He watches as Kensi puts a little more makeup on the dead guy's forehead. She looks determined - as if she's convinced this isn't an awful, doomed-to-fail plan.
Damn it.
He sighs. "Okay."
"Okay?" Kensi looks up, hopeful.
Ugh, she's adorable. She's adorable and he's a sucker and there's no way this doesn't end in total humiliation.
"Yes, okay."
She grins.
"But you're buying me a new shirt."
"I am buying you a new shirt." She nods as a grin spreads across her face. "Or taking it to the dry cleaners - whichever is cheaper."
"Up the cost of the dry cleaners by the price of exactly one exorcism."
She just gives him a look.
"I don't like dead people."
She puts the cap on the powder, having apparently completed her task. The guy still looks dead to Deeks, but it's possible he's being influenced by the smell.
"Well, he's not going to like you very much after this, either." She wedges her hand under the corpse's back. "Help me sit him up."
There is not enough latex in the world to adequately cover him. The gloves aren't even a good start.
She sighs at his hesitation. "You've touched dead people before."
"Not while they're all corpsey and blue!"
"He's not blue, he's," she glances at the foundation bottle, reading the label, "golden beige."
"His nipples aren't."
She looks scandalized. "Don't violate his privacy like that!"
"It's not this guy who's being violated," he grouses, sliding his fingers behind an elbow and pulling.
The body lurches forward and Kensi catches it, holding it upright. "Shirt."
This is really happening. "Now that I've basically had an opportunity to snuggle up with ol' deady over here, I think he actually might fit in yours."
She glares. "Shirt, Deeks."
He throws in a dramatic sigh for effect and yanks his tee up over his head.
She nods at the body. "Put it on."
He slips the black cotton over a mop of brown hair and says a silent goodbye to his favorite shirt. There's no way he's wearing it again without the image of it looped around a slit throat popping into his mind.
They thread stiff arms through perfectly broken-in sleeves and lay him back down. The shirt doesn't flatter this guy like it does Deeks. Black definitely isn't his color. Such a waste.
Kensi grabs a chair and rolls it over. "Okay, let's just kind of drag him onto it."
He nods toward the wheels. "'Cause that won't end in disaster."
"Okay, grab the top end and I'll grab the bottom."
"You'll grab my what?"
"Just do it, Deeks."
He's following her instructions when he realizes their critical error.
He lets go instantly, dropping the dead guy's upper body back down onto the metal table. "Oh my god, no. No, no, no."
Kensi's looking at him, cadaver feet wrapped under her elbows. "What the hell, Deeks?"
"That," he steps back, pointing to the body and then pointing to his bare chest, "touched this."
"So?"
"We already covered this, Kens! You can't wash off ghost!"
"Here." She drops the feet and yanks the sheet down, tossing it in his direction. "Cover yourself up."
Deeks slams his eyes shut and tosses the sheet right back. "Oh my god, Kensi, this is not a porno!"
"Couldn't tell by the way you're dressed, Apollo."
He is so done telling her things. Forever.
He stuffs his hands under the armpits and tries not to inhale.
"Next time," he says as they ease the body onto the chair, "you are getting undressed. I don't care if the guy is three-hundred pounds. We'll drape your shirt around his chest and do some strategic cropping."
"Yeah, okay, next time we reanimate a corpse in order to trick a bad guy I'm on the hook for wardrobe."
"When you say it like that, I'm sort of concerned you expect we might reanimate corpses for some other purpose."
"What if we've seen all the good movies and it's too late for dinner?"
"Phew!" He lets out an exaggerated breath. "I'm pretty confident that'll never happen given your natural inclination toward food."
She rolls her eyes, but he's pretty sure he saw her grin at the last comment.
Deeks futzes with the guy's head and tries to prop it upright while having as little contact as possible. "Does this look like a natural angle?"
"Sure."
He snaps a few photos and sends them to Eric. They look awful and he's pretty sure he could do better if he plays a bit with the lighting, but he's also pretty sure death cooties are seeping into his skin and he's ready for this job to be over.
He shoves his phone into his pocket and watches Kensi drop Rose's makeup back into her desk drawer.
Deeks shakes his head. "You're a horrible person."
"I would have used mine, but I don't have it with me."
"Just like you would use your shirt but you have boobs and I don't."
"Exactly."
"How fortunate for you."
"What can I say?" Her eyes dart down to his bare chest. "It's my lucky day."
Okay, super bad time to get turned on. "You realize we have to undress him and put him back now, right?"
She shrugs and smiles. "I'll just keep thinking of you riding shotgun topless all the way back to the boathouse. It'll get me through."
"Oh no," he shakes his head, reaching for the hem of his - the dead guy's - shirt, "I'm grabbing a jacket from your go bag."
"No way I'm letting you wear my stuff. You're practically dripping ghost. I won't want that shit all over my gear."
He stands beside her, mentally willing away the death cooties without much success and looking at a naked corpse sitting in a chair.
"That's good enough, right?"
She looks over at him. "Yup."
"Shower?"
"Immediately."
"You going to scrub the ghost off me, right?"
She starts toward the door. "Only if you scrub it off me first."