A/N: I had gotten stuck at a roadblock in terms of writing for this fandom. So, to fix it, I re-read a lot of my other shorter stories and watched a lot of reruns. I decided that I am still in love with the idea of Nell and Deeks having a big brother/sister relationship and after reading Bumper Cars again, I thought, why not do another one shot. However, when I got to what I thought was the end of the one shot, my brain exploded and I came up with an idea for another case fic.

If you've read any of my stories in the past, you know I tend to focus around Deeks. Always have, more than likely always will. Can't help it. I am a Densi fan, and while there will be hints alluding to Densi, I'd like to keep this story semi-canon (creative licensing not-withstanding). Also, if you're familiar with my work, I tend to put characters through the ringer and thoroughly enjoy whumping 'em good. After last week's episode, I've decided that Nell and Callen will be featured a little at one time or another in this story. I like kick-ass Nell.

As always, the story is already outlined, and I plan to update at least every two days (three at the most, should nothing unfortunate happen). I'm sincerely hoping I can write this story in less than ten chapters. Haven't done it yet, but there's a first for everything…

I'm going to go ahead and say there's a LANGUAGE WARNING, just in case. I'm not seeing anything specific, but when I get in one of my moods, the writing takes off and I occasionally find a four-letter word or one of their close cousins hiding out here and there.

Also, I'm pissed I never found out what was in the box…

Chapter 1: Have a Bad Day, It's on the House

It's the annoying little jingle that wakes him up, his eyes squeezing shut as the morning sun shines through the opened curtains. Smacking his lips a few times just for good measure, he rubs his face against the pillow, frowning when the jingling returns, followed by a sharp pressure on the side of his cheek.

Opening his eyes slowly, recognizing the familiar feel of a hangover, Deeks stares at the small coffee table, his pounding brain spinning as he tries to figure out where the hell he is. Lifting his head, only to regret the action when the blasted jingle returns, he realizes he's on a couch. A small couch. The kind of small that means his legs are hanging over the armrest, his fingers brushing the ground. Raising his arm, he touches his cheek feeling a small indentation, one not caused by the wrinkled pillowcase.

Slowly, very slowly, Deeks sits up, his long legs sliding off the armrest to rest on the floor. Looking at the pillow he had just been lying on, Deeks finds a green shoe, the end curled, a small bell hanging by a few threads resting on the end of the curl. Bingo, he's found the friggin' jingle. He's pretty sure if he were to look in a mirror, the small indentation on his cheek would look a lot like the side of the shoe's bell.

Dropping the shoe back on the too small couch, Deeks rests his elbows on his knees, his hands rising to massage his throbbing head, only stopping when his fingers find more than a serious case of bed-head. Confusion growing by the minute, Deeks pulls the hat from his head, frown in full force as he studies it, his mind trying to remember if he had dressed up like one of the seven dwarves the night before.

He tosses the hat next to the shoe, a little surprised to hear the green ball on the hat jingle as well. His hand rises, absently scratching at his shoulder, drawing attention to the fact that he's shirtless. He looks around the small living room, noting how clean it is, how organized. He spots his boots at the foot of the couch, his phone, keys, and badge on the coffee table. No shirt.

"You're awake," a quiet voice observes, causing Deeks to jump in surprise, his shins clashing against the edge of the coffee table, shaking his keys and phone.

"Sonuvabitch," Deeks mutters, grabbing his head as he squints his eyes, trying to make sense of what he's seeing, his racing heart beating like a base drum in his ears.

Nell simply leans on the doorway, a large cup of coffee in her hands, her brow arched high in amusement. "Sorry," she says with a smile. "I was starting to think you were gonna sleep all day."

Deeks feels his jaw drop a little. He knows he probably looks like an idiot. In truth, he kinda feels like one. "Uh, Nell?"

"Hmm?" She answers as she sips her coffee.

"Where am I?" he asks, his voice sounding like gravel, his throat feeling like broken glass, his tongue tasting…well, nasty is one word that comes to mind.

Nell doesn't look surprised in the least hearing his question. Blowing at the steam rising from her cup, the rim held just under her chin, she answers. "My place."

Deeks nods slowly, his eyes darting around, seeing the little bits of personality that scream 'Nell Jones' decorating the small living room. "And uh…okay."

"Okay?" Nell lets her cup drop a few inches, the amusement still in place.

"Yeah?" Deeks says, not really sure if it's meant to be a question or an answer. He has no memory of the night before, no idea why he would be in Nell's apartment wearing a freaking green and red hat and no shirt. He's a little scared to ask, especially since the gargantuan headache tells him alcohol was involved. Lots of alcohol.

Nell turns without a word, walking through the little doorway, leaving Deeks in his confusion. He hears the distinctive sound of a fridge opening and closing, a small rattle, and a squeak of a door hinge. A few seconds later, Nell's coming back, her coffee in one hand, a bottle of water and Tylenol in the other.

"Here," she says quietly, mindful of his hangover as she hands him the water and pain reliever. Deeks accepts them gratefully, downing half the water in one large gulp before even trying to open the Tylenol.

Nell resumes her spot in the doorway, her shoulder leaning on the frame, seemingly content waiting for Deeks to make the next move. He pops a few pills and then finishes off the rest of the water, the liquid sloshing on his stomach, forcing his eyes to close from the nausea.

"Nell?" he asks once he's certain the water's not about to come back up.

"Yeah?"

"Why am…what happened?" he asks, looking up to search her face for an answer. Nell simply turns her head slightly, her eyebrows rising in innocence.

"What do you remember?" she asks in place of an answer. Deeks closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he prepares to use his brain. He thinks back to the day before, to the case they had worked, to the busload of victims that had been nothing more than collateral in a gang war. He remembers the anger and depression he had felt leaving work, the way his numb mind had worked on autopilot as it drove to the bar, instinctively searching for oblivion. Looks like he found it.

"I remember going to a bar," he finally says after a few long moments. He looks up, a little surprised to see a small worry line present at the point of Nell's furrowed brow.

"And…?" she prompts, obviously wanting him to remember more.

"And then I woke up dressed like a semi-nude Disney dwarf," Deeks finishes, gesturing to the hat still resting on the pillow.

"Elf, actually," Nell corrects, her smile returning. "You found my costume last night while I was cleaning up." She gives him a tight-lipped smile, obviously remembering something funny that he's more than forgotten.

"Elf, right," he says, rubbing his palms on his jean-clad knees, nervously swallowing as he feels his stomach begin to churn, his hangover gearing up to kick his ass. He looks up, scared to open his mouth, but desperately needing to speak.

Nell, recognizing the signs, quickly points down the hallway. "Bathroom's that way." Deeks wastes no time, hurriedly jumping from the couch, leaping over the small coffee table, and running in sock-clad feet towards the bathroom. He manages to drop to his knees in front of the toilet before emptying his stomach of anything and, from the looks of it, everything he's consumed since finding the bar.

As soon as the muscles quit contracting, the heaving slowing, he leans his head against his forearm, letting them both rest against the seat of the toilet, thoughts of hygiene far gone as he takes a moment to truly appreciate the misery in which he currently finds himself.

He doesn't look up when he feels Nell enter the small bathroom. He simply accepts the new water bottle she presses against his bare shoulder. Eyes still closed, he twists the lid, rinsing out his mouth as Nell wets a washcloth in the sink.

"Thanks," he manages to mumble as he closes the toilet lid and reaches to flush. She gives him another soft smile as he leans his back against her bathtub, the cool porcelain causing him to flinch as it touches his skin.

"You okay?" she asks, that worry line back in place. Deeks nods once, not wanting to risk any movement that might be more involved. He wipes his mouth with the washcloth, mentally upgrading the taste in his mouth to something more appropriate than nasty.

"Nell, what happened last night?" he finally blurts out, to hell with awkward and embarrassing.

Nell purses her lips and looks to the side, her head bobbing a little, almost like she'd been waiting for him to ask.

"I'm not sure of the whole story," she begins, hopping up onto the edge of the bathroom's counter, her back hunched as she leans forward, her palms resting on the counter as her toes dangle a few feet above Deeks' outstretched legs. "But a little after two in the morning, I get a call from your phone, asking me to come pick you up."

When Deeks' only response is a deep frown, his confusion evident even through the pain of a hangover, Nell continues. "Apparently, you decided to self-medicate and got too hammered to drive home. Bartender took your keys and called me."

"Why you?" he asks, generally curious. Nell shrugs, her expression showing she had been just as surprised as he is now.

"She probably just went to the last number dialed," she guesses, referring to the bartender who had woken her up. "Anyway, I showed up, loaded you in the car and brought you here."

"Why not just drop me off at my place? It wasn't far from the bar." Deeks forces himself to meet her eyes. If he didn't feel like an idiot before, he does now. Idiot multiplied by ass squared.

Nell hunches her shoulders a little more. "You weren't really…in a condition to be left alone." She lets her smile turn sad. "Yesterday was kinda bad for all of us," she says, making it perfectly clear she doesn't judge him for getting smashed.

Deeks leans his head back and drapes the wet washcloth over his eyes. "I'd have been fine," he tells her, although the fact that he has no memory speaks to the contrary.

"Well, that and I doubt I could have gotten you up your stairs," she admits, her tone a little light. Deeks keeps his eyes closed, but he can hear her smile.

"That'd been a sight." He tries to imagine Nell dragging his drunken form up the stairs to his apartment, his elderly neighbor Mrs. Nolan trying to help by grabbing his feet.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nell asks slowly, drawing each word out in uncertainty.

"'Bout what?" Deeks asks, feigning ignorance.

"About yesterday. The people on the bus." She straightens her shoulders a little, clasping her hands in her lap as she waits for his answer. Twenty-two people had been killed, men, women, and children. Everyone had taken it hard, everyone had reacted badly, professionalism be damned.

"I don't really wanna talk about it," he drawls, sitting up and lifting the toilet lid again, his stomach revolting a second time around. Nell looks away, but stays were she is. When it's clear there isn't anything left in his stomach, Deeks resumes his position of misery, head on forearm, both against the rim of the bowl. "What I do want to talk about is my missing shirt."

Nell snorts as she attempts to hide her laughter, her hand rising to cover her mouth. She looks at Deeks apologetically as she bites her lower lip. "It's in the dryer," she tells him. "I had to wash it."

"God, tell me I didn't throw up on myself," Deeks pleads, his voice echoing in the toilet bowl.

"No," Nell promises, her feet slowly starting to kick back and forth, her heels bouncing on the cabinet door beneath her sink. "You spilt milk all over it."

"Milk?" Deeks asks, rolling his head on his arm to look at her.

"I gave you a PB&J to soak up some of the alcohol," she explains. "You said you couldn't eat peanut butter without milk."

Just the mention of food, the mere thought of peanut butter coating his tongue sends his gag reflex into overdrive. Having already emptied his stomach, Deeks grips the edges of the toilet bowl, dry heaves causing his muscles to painfully contract, his head threatening to explode.

"Sorry," Nell whispers again, and Deeks flinches when he realizes she's standing right beside him. He looks up, thankful when she has a fresh washcloth waiting for him, the bottle of Tylenol resting on the counter, his half-drank bottle of water held in her hand.

Embarrassment building at the thought of being so drunk he can't remember what bar he'd gone to, even more so at the thought of Nell of all people having to clean him up after he spilled milk all over himself, Deeks takes the washcloth and offers a small, self-deprecating smile.

"Any chance we can keep all this between you and me?" he asks with a short laugh, his eyes focusing anywhere but on her.

"I won't tell if you won't," she answers, her voice so sincere, it forces Deeks to look up in surprise. Her smile is still sad, but he can tell it's not from pity. It's because she understands, and though he still feels like an idiot multiplied by an ass squared, he swears in that moment to be eternally grateful to the small woman before him.

"Thanks, Nell."

"You're welcome, Deeks."

A few minutes, one clean shirt, and another go with the toilet later, Deeks and Nell walk outside. It's close to lunchtime, the sun high in the sky—a spotlight to highlight Deeks' stumbling path to Nell's car.

Stopping in front of the mini-cooper, Deeks lets one eyebrow find its way towards his hairline as he looks to Nell.

"What?" she asks, confused.

Deeks looks down at himself and then at the small car. "I don't think I'm gonna fit in there."

Nell laughs and pulls her door open, sliding into the car as she raises her voice for him to hear. "You fit fine last night."

Not having any memory to dispute her claim, Deeks opens the door and prepares to fold himself inside, pleasantly surprised to find that he does, in fact, have enough room. Content for the moment, he pushes a borrowed pair of sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and folds his jacket up as a pillow, leaning against the passenger door as Nell starts the engine.

"D'you pick me up at Murphy's?" he asks, arms folded across his chest, looking every bit as hungover as he feels. If he had the will power to open his eyes, he'd see the look of concern cross Nell's face as she casts a sideways glance in his direction.

"Yeah," she tells him, clearing her throat and adjusting her grip on the steering wheel. Traffic is light for a Friday morning, everyone having already made it to work. Had Hetty not given them the day off, allowing them a day to deal with the complete failure from the day before, Nell and Deeks would be at work as well, planted behind a desk, catching up on paperwork. "Deeks?"

Deeks cracks one eye open, turning his head to look at Nell when he hears her hesitant tone. "Yeah?"

Nell taps her thumb on the steering wheel, her lips pursing to the side as she thinks of how to word what she wants to say. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to someone, because-"

"Nell," he interrupts softly, not wanting to be mean, "I promise, I'm fine. Hetty's already talked to me, she talked to us all."

"Deeks, you drank so much you don't remember what bar you went to." Nell goes for blunt, wanting to make sure he understands how worried she had been seeing him the night before.

Deeks shifts in his seat, the jacket/pillow slipping down the door. "I'm fine," he whispers, just loud enough for her to hear. He worries his tongue across his lower lip, trying his best to ignore his headache. "I normally don't drink that much," he admits, "I just…I guess I just got a little emotional, and needed to forget. That's all."

Nell inhales slowly through her nose, her jaw tight as she listens to his quiet confession. She swallows once, clearing her throat again before speaking. "Promise you'll call someone next time," she pleads, taking her eyes off the road to look at him. "It can me if you don't want the others to know, it can be someone else…I don't care, just…don't do that again."

She quickly brings her attention back to the road, suddenly not wanting to see how he responds to her friendly intentions.

Deeks straightens in his seat, letting the jacket fall the rest of the way. "I promise," he says quietly, feeling his face flush a little from both embarrassment and her obvious concern.

The rest of the drive is silent, Nell focusing on the road while Deeks attempts to massage his throbbing brain, his fingers rubbing his temples.

The parking lot at Murphy's Pub is deserted except for Deeks' car parked in the corner of the lot.

"You good to get home?" Nell asks as Deeks climbs out. He rests his hand on the roof of her car and bends to look into her window.

"Yeah, it's just a couple of blocks," he tells her, crooked smile in place. He squints his eyes as he hands her back her sunglasses, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, a nervous habit he's not really aware of. "Thanks again, Nell, for-" he trails off, gesturing to the bar and what had undoubtedly been an embarrassing situation, if only he could remember.

"No problem," she assures him, pushing the offered sunglasses back at him. "Keep 'em," she says, shifting the car back into gear. "You can give them back Monday."

Deeks just smiles a full smile as he puts them back in place, happy for the reprieve from the glaring sun. "See ya Monday," he tells her, thumping his hand on the roof of her car before standing straight.

"See ya Monday," she agrees, slowly pulling away, leaving Deeks alone in the parking lot. Figuring the sooner he gets his ass into gear, the sooner he can get home and get to bed, Deeks begins to move his feet in the direction of his car.

Opening the driver's door, he's hit with a stifling heat and a smell he can't quiet place, both forcing him to back away as he fights the urge to vomit yet again. Breathing through his mouth, he climbs into the car and quickly rolls the windows down as he looks around the interior, trying to find the source of the smell. It reminds him of something, like rotten food and bad fish combined, not something that should be roasting in a sun-baked car.

Deciding his head hurts too much to deal with it at the moment, he cranks the car and pulls it out of the parking lot, easing it onto the road and in the direction of his apartment. Usually, he avoids the potholes on the street leading away from the bar. Usually, he isn't trying to drive with a killer headache. Too tired to care, he allows the car to drive right into the small hole in the pavement, the result causing his car to bounce roughly as he tries to steer it straight.

It's the thump that causes him to slow down. A heavy thump, muffled and coming from the trunk. Turning around to look, as though he could actually see through the back seat into the trunk, Deeks hits another pothole, resulting in yet another heavy thump.

Hangover or not, curiosity wins as he pulls the car onto the side of the road. Waiting until the line of cars behind him has passed, he opens his door and walks to the back of the car, popping the trunk.

He doesn't even notice the smell anymore—strange considering he's found its source. All he can focus on is the sight of the body crumpled over his tire iron and gym bag, the face frozen in a look of surprise, blood matting the greasy hair at the temple.

Deeks simply closes the trunk, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel his headache worsening. So much for a day to recover.

TBC…

A/N: I told you, my brain just exploded.