A/N: This chapter isn't big on action. It's mostly dialogue, but it's all necessary, I assure you. I hate starting stories, because you have to lay the groundwork. That's why I prefer one-shots, just jump right in headfirst…

Chapter 2: Alibis and Misjudging Eyes

Deeks is sitting on the curb when Kensi finally pulls up. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, her eyes tired like she hadn't had enough sleep either. Deeks watches as she gives him a once over, her eyes narrowing at the obvious signs of a hangover—the smell of stale alcohol and vomit, the same clothes being worn two days in a row, and a painful pinched frown.

"Nice glasses," she says as way of a greeting, clearly not wanting to start off with 'why's there a body in your trunk?'

Deeks rubs his hand along the back of his neck as he looks down, hiding his smile. He grunts as he stands, pressing the release button on his keychain, the trunk opening with an audible pop. Kensi takes a step back, her nose scrunching up as she peers inside from the new distance.

"Do you know who he is?" she asks, using her phone to snap a quick picture of the body. She turns away as Deeks lowers the lid enough to keep passers-by from seeing but not enough to lock the trunk again.

"No clue," he tells her. He's a little surprised she beat the cops. Even though he had called her first, LAPD normally wouldn't take this long to respond to a report of a dead body. "Found him like that."

Before Kensi can ask anything more, the sound of a single siren blip cuts her off, the tires of the unmarked police car crunching over the gravel and trash on the side of the road. A man Deeks doesn't recognize climbs out of the car and begins to make his way towards them.

"Detective Richard Ryan," he says, extending his hand in a greeting. Deeks returns the gesture, trying his best not to look hungover.

"Detective Marty Deeks, this is my partner Special Agent Kensi Blye," he tells the Detective, jerking his head in Kensi's direction. Kensi shakes Detective Ryan's hand and smiles at his look of confusion.

"I'm with NCIS," she explains, knowing he had gotten caught up on the 'Special Agent' part. "Deeks is our liaison with your department."

Deeks lets her do to talking, both knowing his breath is anything but friendly. Detective Ryan nods, his eyes widening in realization.

"So you're that Marty Deeks," he says, reaching into his pocket for a pair of gloves. "Heard about you."

"Not sure if that's a good thing or not," Deeks half jokes, accepting the piece of gum Kensi discreetly passes to him.

Detective Ryan just laughs, not really clarifying whether or not it is actually good or bad. He lifts the lid to the trunk, making a face of disgust similar to the one Kensi had made moments before. The body isn't decomposed, but it still gives off a fairly strong smell.

"You run the plates yet?" Ryan asks, careful not to touch the body until the coroner arrives.

Deeks scratches the back of his head, his other hand resting on his hip as he answers the Detective's question. "Not really any need."

Ryan looks up, confused frown in place. "And why's that?"

"Because it's my car," Deeks says on a heavy exhale, his other hand falling from the back of his head to rest on his hip.

Ryan chews on his upper lip for a moment, his eyes looking back and forth from Kensi to Deeks, trying to see if they're playing him for a fool. When it becomes clear that Deeks is telling the truth, Ryan blinks slowly and shakes his head, his gloved hand pointing to the red Chevy.

"You're telling me you found a body in the back of your car?"

Deeks nods his head once. "Yep."

"Any idea on the dead guy's ID?" Ryan asks, tilting his head.

"Nope," Deeks answers, hating the situation more and more with each passing question. Ryan lets out a deep sigh, his cheeks puffing with the effort.

"Detective Deeks…you gotta work with me here," Ryan says, shifting his weight to lean on one leg. "This ain't looking good."

"I know," Deeks admits, his eyes still hidden behind Nell's glasses. All three heads turn as a police cruiser pulls up, two uniformed cops climbing out as the coroner's van arrives immediately after.

"Rope off the perimeter," Ryan orders, his hands gesturing to the area immediately around the parked car. Deeks clears his throat, shaking his head as he begins to speak up.

"Not here," he says, stopping the uniformed cops. "The car was parked at Murphy's Pub all night. Just down the street." Deeks points to the bar in the distance, his stance shifting uncomfortably as Detective Ryan studies him with a new level of scrutiny.

Eyes still on Deeks, Ryan turns his head in the direction of the cops. "Secure the parking lot, and find out who all was working last night. I want any security footage they got."

"Yes, sir," the first cop says before walking back to the cruiser. Ryan gestures to the sidewalk, getting Deeks and Kensi out of the way and out of earshot as the coroner and his assistant begin to examine the body.

"Alright, time to cut the crap," Ryan whispers harshly, his eyes cutting to the still-near coroner before looking at Deeks. "Anyone with one good eye can tell you're hungover from hell and back. Now, I need to know everything that you know."

Pretenses aside, Deeks pushes the sunglasses up to rest on the top of his head, his red-rimmed eyes squinting as he meets Ryan's. In an even, hard voice, Deeks tells him what he knows.

"Last night, I went to Murphy's, had a little too much to drink, and couldn't drive home. I had to leave my car here."

"What time did you get to the bar?" Ryan asks, his notepad and pen out.

Deeks closes his eyes as he tries to remember what time he left work. "Right after work," he says as an answer, no specific numbers coming to mind.

Ryan looks up from the paper, frowning. "Which would be around…?"

"Midnight," Kensi supplies, her own frown taking on a worried edge as she listens to her partner's story.

Ryan cuts his eyes to Kensi for a hard moment before letting them drop back to his notepad. "And what time did you leave?"

"No idea," Deeks admits quickly, his hands making their way to his pockets.

"None at all?" Ryan asks, his tone and expression making it clear Deeks isn't helping the situation. "Just give me a ballpark range?"

"Sometime after two AM," Deeks guesses, remembering Nell saying she had gotten a call after two. "But that's all I got."

Ryan writes the time down, and looks back up at Deeks. Deeks wants to hit the guy when he recognizes the look of doubt, the one all detectives get when they don't believe a witness's story.

"Where'd you go last night?" Ryan asks, doubtful look still in place.

Deeks forces himself not to shift uncomfortably as he realizes just how much worse the situation's about to get. "I staid with a friend," he mutters, purposefully not looking Kensi's way.

Ryan obviously senses Deeks' sudden discomfort, because his eyes flick to Kensi before falling back to Deeks. "Do you know this friend's name?"

Deeks inhales through his nose, his head tilting back a little as he realizes any embarrassment from last night is about to become public record. "Nell Jones."

Deeks doesn't look at Kensi, but judging by the way Ryan's eyes dart back and forth between her and Deeks, Deeks is willing to bet her surprise had shown on her face. Making a mental note to sort out any misunderstandings on the ride home, Deeks continues giving what he's beginning to realize is his alibi.

"She picked me up, you'll have to ask her what time, and I spent the rest of the night at her place." He says it quickly, hushed, even though he knows Kensi can hear. God, it sounds bad when voiced out loud and out of context. "She dropped me off so I could get my car a little before noon. I called it in right after I discovered the body."

Deeks is already reaching for his phone as he brings up Nell's number, letting Detective Ryan copy it down on his little notepad when one of the uniformed police officer's walks up, letting Ryan know the bartender is on her way.

Ryan thanks the officer and then turns his attention back to Deeks. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Deeks gives him a tight-lipped smile and shakes his head, returning the sunglasses to their proper position. "Not really."

Ryan closes the notepad and taps his pen on the cover. "We'll get a crime scene unit out here, check everything over." He puts the notepad away, reaching into his pocket for a small, white card. "We'll call you when we learn anything. And I expect you to call me if you remember anything."

"Will do," Deeks says, taking the offered card.

Ryan looks to the car, watching as the coroner and his helper remove the body from the trunk. "I don't have to remind you to stay in town, right? You know the drill?"

Deeks doesn't hide his contempt at being treated as a suspect. "No, you don't. You know, me being a detective too and all."

Ryan nods, his discomfort with the situation obvious. "Go home, Detective. Sleep it off," he says, before turning and walking to talk to the coroner, leaving Kensi and Deeks standing on the sidewalk.

Deeks rubs his forehead, his headache having increased exponentially over the last half-hour.

"So, I'm guessing you're gonna need a ride," Kensi says, breaking the silence. Deeks lets a derogatory laugh slip out as he nods, finally turning to face his partner.

"Yeah, if you don't mind." He bites his lip as she pulls her keys from her pocket, her false everything-is-fine smile in place. He can tell immediately that she's pissed.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Deeks slides into the booth, his forehead immediately falling into his hands. "Why couldn't I just go home?" he asks for the second time. He had been more than a little surprised when Kensi decided to drive right by his apartment building, not even bothering to slow down.

"Because you need protein," Kensi tells him, her answer the same as the first time he asked.

Deeks looks up, letting his palms move to his cheeks so they can still support his head. "What I need is to go back to sleep," he whines as a waitress comes over with two laminated menus. Kensi holds her hand up, stopping the waitress from putting the menus down.

"We already know what we want," she says with a friendly voice and an even friendlier smile. "I want an order of your cheesy home fries and he'll have one hangover special."

The waitress looks at Deeks slumped in the booth before returning Kensi's friendly smile.
"Cheesy potatoes and one hangover special coming right up."

"Hangover special?" Deeks asks as the waitress walks away.

"Trust me," Kensi tells him as she leans back in her seat, her arms folded across her chest as she tightens her jaw, studying him again. Deeks cringes a little, looking at his phone before setting it on the table.

"Okay, why are you angry?" he finally asks, leaning back and mirroring her pose. He's still wearing the sunglasses, perfectly content to ignore the looks he's receiving from the diner's other patrons.

"I'm not angry," Kensi says, her tone saying otherwise. When Deeks arches a disbelieving brow, she shrugs and starts playing with the rolled up fork and knife resting on the table. "I just don't know why you didn't call me last night."

Deeks actually laughs then, the act causing the throb in his head to spike. "Seriously?" he asks once the throb diminishes back to a manageable state. "You're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," she quickly defends, leaning forward and pointing the rolled silverware at him. "I was just…confused. I'm you're partner, yet you call Nell. I know she's a friend, but—"

"I didn't call Nell," he interjects, lowering his head so he can look at her over the glasses. "The bartender did."

Kensi lets the hand holding the knife and fork drop to the table as she leans back a little, her brow creased. "What?"

Deeks takes off Nell's glasses and sets them next to his phone. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes as he tries to explain the situation without sounding like an out of control frat-boy.

"I didn't call Nell," he repeats quietly, aware of the waitress bringing over a tray of drinks. He waits until she's given them their glasses of water and orange juice before continuing. "I'm guessing they had to cut me off and the bartender called the last number dialed on my phone."

He picks up the orange juice and takes a large sip, happy to have something other than gum, whiskey, and vomit flavoring his mouth. When he sets the glass down, he finds Kensi staring at him, the crease in her brow deeper than he's ever seen it. "What?" he asks, thoroughly confused.

"You guess they had to cut you off?" she asks incredulously, obviously not liking what she's just heard.

Deeks wraps his fingers around the glass of orange juice, wiping away the condensation. "I don't really remember," he admits, keeping his voice low so the people in the neighboring booths won't hear.

Kensi presses her fingers to her temples as though she's trying to ward off a headache. Deeks keeps quiet, feeling very much like a child who is about to be scolded. When Kensi lowers her hands, the look on her face tells Deeks that his feeling had been correct.

"Deeks, what do you remember?"

Already having had to answer that question once before when Nell had asked it, Deeks doesn't even have to think about the answer. He does, however, hate having to admit it out loud. He pushes his orange juice to the side, and lays his forehead on the chipped tabletop. "I remember leaving work and thinking about going to get a drink," he confesses, his voice muffled from his new position.

He can hear Kensi tapping her nails on the table as she thinks, the sound reverberating into his skull. "But you remember actually going to the bar, right?" she asks, her tone hopeful.

Deeks simply rolls his head side to side in a negative gesture, keeping his head on the table.

"Deeks, there was a body found in your car, and now you're telling me that you can't remember the last twelve hours," she whispers harshly, and Deeks can tell from the sound of her voice that she's leaning in towards him.

He looks up, his chin hovering an inch above the table as he answers. "Kensi, I know it looks bad, okay? But seriously? Do you really think I'd kill a guy and stuff him in my trunk?"

"Of course I don't," she quickly assures him. "But you're a cop. You know how this looks. Detective Ryan knows how this looks."

Deeks rolls his eyes at the mention of Detective Ryan. "What do you want me to say, Kens? I normally don't drink that much. I can't really defend what I don't remember." His rising blood pressure causing his headache to worsen, Deeks lets his forehead find the table again, perfectly happy to stay there until he dies.

He hears Kensi's nails bouncing on the tabletop again, and he wants to smile, because he swears he can hear her thinking.

"Just don't tell Ryan that you blacked out," Kensi whispers after a few tense seconds.

"Don't worry," Deeks tells her, the thought having already crossed his mind. After all, he isn't a complete idiot. "And can you please stop tapping the table?"

The tapping immediately stops, and he expects to hear a 'sorry', or maybe even a smart-aleck comeback. Instead, he hears a peppy, much to happy voice warn Kensi. "Watch out, Hun. The plate's hot."

Deeks lifts his head and the waitress sets a plate down in front of him as well as another glass of orange juice. "One hangover special," she announces with a knowing smile. "I suggest you start with the toast."

"Thanks," Deeks mumbles as he studies the plate before him. For some reason, he had half expected a bizarre concoction of raw eggs and tomato juice, something an old roommate had sworn by. However, much to his delight, the eggs before him are cooked, scrambled if anyone wants to get specific. Two slices of watermelon, two triangles of wheat toast, and one banana sit to the side of the large mound of eggs, completing the 'Hangover Special'.

"This is the hangover special?" Deeks asks, picking up a fork and shoveling the eggs around on his plate.

"Protein, potassium, magnesium," Kensi begins to list as she twirls a large glob of cheese around her fork. "Everything your body needs and then some after a night of poor judgment."

"Are we speaking from experience Miss Blye?" Deeks asks around a small mouthful of eggs, pleasantly surprised when his stomach doesn't immediate revolt against the new addition.

"Uh-huh," Kensi answers distractedly, causing Deeks to look up from his plate. He frowns when he sees Kensi's attention is focused on her phone.

He finishes off the first glass of orange juice before asking, "Who are you calling?"

"No one," she says, her fingers darting about the screen. "I'm sending Eric the picture of the body. Maybe he can figure out an ID through Facial Rec."

Deeks reaches across the table and snatches her phone out of her hands. "Don't do that!"

"Why not?" she asks angrily, her hand already held out expectantly, wanting him to return her phone.

"Because," Deeks begins to explain, deleting the half finished text. "It's supposed to be our day off, and it's not an NCIS case."

"The body was found in your car," Kensi says slowly, enunciating each word like he's incapable of understanding English.

"Yes, Kensi. That has been established," he deadpans. Still keeping her phone out of her reach, he holds up three fingers. "We know exactly three things about the dead man. One, he is dead," he says, lowering one of his fingers.

Ignoring Kensi's death-glare, he continues to count. "Two, he was found in my car. Three," he says bringing down his last finger, "he smelled really bad, even for a dead guy."

He sets her phone down on the seat beside him, and resumes eating.

"You're kidding me right?" Kensi asks, her cheese-drenched potatoes apparently forgotten. "You're seriously going to sit there and act like nothing's happened? Like a detective isn't out there right now confirming your alibi?"

Deeks puts his fork down and sighs heavily. "Kensi, we both know I didn't have anything to do with whatever happened. Most likely, the killer needed somewhere to stash the body, and my abandoned car was the best option."

He picks up a piece of watermelon, savoring the sweetness as he continues to explain why he isn't worried. "Ryan'll check everything out, he'll confirm my alibi, watch the security footage, and see that I had nothing to do with it."

"But it was your car," Kensi points out, not happy with Deeks' explanation. "Why aren't you working on the investigation?"

"Because I do undercover work," Deeks says with an air of pride, borderline lecturing. "Detective Richard Ryan is a Homicide Detective. He investigates when dead bodies are found."

"We investigate homicides all the time," Kensi says, her voice taking on a 'know-it-all' kind of vibe.

"Yeah, well NCIS is a little more well-rounded," Deeks counters, pushing his still full plate away. "LAPD likes to specialize. They tend to get upset when other departments start to stray."

Kensi nods, showing she understands. She picks up her fork and resumes eating, but Deeks can tell she still isn't happy. Two bites in, she drops her fork again.

"But you are going to go see what Ryan's found out, right?"

Any other time, Deeks would have laughed at his partner's insistence. "Kensi, I'm not about to walk into the precinct looking like this," he says, gesturing to his bloodshot eyes. "But yeah, I am. Give me a few hours sleep, a shower, and then we can go check out what Ryan's learned."

"We?" Kensi asks with a smile.

"Well, I'm kinda going to need a ride," Deeks points out. "Dead guy, remember?"

Kensi laughs and dives back into her food. Fork held at her mouth, she pauses. "You might want to move the shower to the front of the list," she suggests.

"You saying I stink?" Deeks asks, feigning offense.

Kensi shrugs. "I just think some of John Doe's fishy smell attached to you."

Deeks frowns and smells his shirt, a scent half fabric softener, half rotted ocean assaults his sinuses. "I was kinda hoping I was only imagining that."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Deeks isn't really sure how long he's been sleeping, but he knows it hasn't been nearly long enough. He's in bed, freshly showered, and in clean clothes. Nell had called before they left the diner, her voice worried, wanting to know why a homicide detective was calling her, asking her questions about Deeks. Deeks had given the phone to Kensi as he made his way to the bathroom to watch the hangover special make it's second appearance.

Kensi had driven him home not long after that, telling him she was going to stick around until he slept off his hangover. He had left her in his living room, her feet propped on the coffee table, Monty snuggled next to her as Deeks went to shower.

Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, Deeks can see that he hasn't even been asleep for two hours yet, meaning something had woken him up, because he sure as hell hadn't done so on his own.

The sound of voices echoing down the hallway catches his attention, both sounding familiar, but only one welcomed. Deeks unwillingly slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of jeans. There's a short knock on his bedroom door before Kensi's peeking her head in, that worry line in place as she makes her way into the room.

"Detective Ryan is here," she informs him, grabbing a t-shirt off the foot of the bed and tossing it to him.

"What's he want?" Deeks asks, pulling the shirt over his head, a little relieved to see that the nausea's cleared away, even if the headache's decided to stick around.

Kensi crosses her arms and cocks a hip, clearly not happy. "To talk to you."

When Deeks nods and begins to make his way to the door, Kensi steps in front of him, her hand rising to push on his chest, stopping him from going further. "He wants to talk to you down at the station," she clarifies.

Deeks stares for a moment, his brain catching up with what that actually implies. He closes his eyes and sighs before casting a longing look to his rumpled bed, vowing to never drink again.

TBC…

A/N: I know I said I'd probably update once every two days, but I finished this sooner than I expected. Feel free to let me know if you think I should spend more time working on a chapter before I post. I'm aiming for quality, people…I don't want to post something and it feel rushed.