A/N: This was intended to be a one shot, but due to the many requests for a second chapter and the resulting feeling of euphoria I felt at people actually reading and enjoying my story, I had no choice but to cave. I know it's been a while since the first chapter, but seeing as how I didn't plan on this being more than a one shot, I didn't know where else to go with it. I'm not going to lie, I struggled with this, but I sincerely hope it doesn't disappoint.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed or added this to their favorites. It's like a writer's cure for almost anything. I want to thank SilverSentinal21 for pointing out the fact that Eric's eyes are green, not blue. I apologize, and I tried to account for that in this chapter. (But for the record, Eric Christian Olsen thought Barrett Foa's eyes were blue, so it's not too far of a stretch to assume that Deeks would, too.)

BTB, italics are flashbacks.


The distinct feeling of someone roughly moving his feet causes him to wake up. It's darker than it was before, moonlight creeping through the window mixes with the soft lights of the lamps stationed along the wall creating a warm and comfortable glow around the large, open room.

Looking towards his feet for the source of the movement, Deeks notices Nell. She had attempted to lie down on her end of the couch instead of sitting up, and had unknowingly pushed her feet beneath his blanket in order to keep her toes warm.

He lets his head fall back against the pillow as he listens for any sound that would let him know whether or not they're alone. Other than the sounds of the air conditioner shutting off and Nell's steady breathing, Deeks only hears silence.

He has no idea what time it is, but he's certain it can't be too late. The team wouldn't have left him and Nell on the couch all night, someone would have woken them up to take them home—at least he thinks they would. As he reaches for the phone in his pocket, he can tell the pain meds he had taken earlier are still working, dulling the pain in his ribs to a near, tolerable throb instead of the sharp stab he had been met with the last time he moved.

He blinks at the brightness of the phone's screen, squinting to read that it's just after nine o'clock. He closes his eyes again, thinking about trying to go back to sleep, when he's suddenly aware of an uncomfortable pressure in his lower abdomen. Frowning, he opens his eyes again, glancing once more at Nell's sleeping form as he tries thinking of a way to get off the couch without waking her or causing himself too much pain.

Placing his good arm on the back of the couch, he slowly pulls himself up, stopping when the pain in his ribcage returns to the sharp stabbing variety. He briefly considers remaining on the couch, holding it until someone else comes by, but a quick reminder of how embarrassed he'd be if he ended up peeing his pants forces him to move.

Bending his legs slowly so the sudden movement won't wake his fellow couch potato, Deeks exhales through gritted teeth as he swings them over the side of the couch. He counts to ten, preparing himself for the pain he knows is about to come.

Despite the preparation and his stern insistence not to make a sound, a painful grunt fills the silence, shortly followed by a tired "damn it." It takes a moment for the vertigo to pass, before he can open his eyes and the room not tilt. He looks back to the couch, smiling when he notices that Nell hadn't moved. The deep and steady movement of her chest coupled with her slightly parted mouth tells Deeks that her meds are still in full force.

Feet clad only in a pair of worn socks, he slowly and steadily makes his way towards the bathroom. The quiet, darkness gives the building an eerie feeling, only exaggerated by the fact that he's alone. Reaching the bathroom, he cringes as he pushes his shoulder against the door, pulling at stitches and pushing against strained ribs. By the time he makes it to the urinal, he's about ready to sit down again. The entire ordeal is awkward and difficult due to the fact that he only has one useful hand.

Feeling better, he takes the time to ease the waist of his pants down enough for him to see the bandage covering his hip. He hadn't seen the gash when he was first admitted to the hospital, having spent the time focusing on the resetting of the bone in his arm and worrying about Nell.

Now, as he pulls at the tape holding the gauze in place, he swallows back the nausea he feels in response to seeing the red, swollen mess that used to be his hip. The gash is several inches long. Dark black knots are threaded the entire length of the wound, puckering the skin at even intervals. What Deeks hopes is antibiotic, gives the entire thing a gooey, wet look.

He gingerly presses down on the tape, securing the bandage back over the wound before pulling his pants back in place. The waistband rubs against the bruises decorating the left side of his body. The many marks are darker than he remembers, time having given them the opportunity to grow and blossom.

He looks in the mirror, wrinkling his nose in response to his appearance. His hair is parted funny, the curls dried in place by the blood and iodine used to clean the gashes in his head before stitching and stapling them closed. Reaching his hand up, he lets the pads of his fingers trace over the staples, wishing he could see what they looked like. He knows he couldn't hold a mirror high enough above his head to see the wound without hurting his ribs. Turning his head sideways, he notices yellow streaks of iodine running from his hairline down to his collar. The inside of his ear is caked in dried, brown blood.

"Well, aren't you a pretty mess," he mutters into the silence, repeating the nurse's earlier words.

"I think I can hear her frowning from here," he says, watching as Kensi continues walking back and forth near the nurse's station, her phone pressed to her ear as her hand covers the other, attempting to block out the loud noises echoing around the emergency room.

When Kensi angrily pulls her phone away, growling in frustration as she pushes more buttons, Nell quietly turns to Deeks. "I don't think that's frowning you're hearing."

Deeks smiles at her through the bars on their gurneys. She's sitting up, and he watches as the nurse continues to mold Nell's cast, constantly shaping it to form around her tiny wrist. Nurse David had quickly finished wrapping Deeks's arm in a cast, before moving on to Nell.

Nell simply rolls her eyes when a pretty brunette walks to Deeks's side, a light southern accent exclaiming, "Well, aren't you a pretty mess," as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves, "I'm Ashley, the nurse practitioner, and I'm gonna patch you up Mr.-"

"Marty. You can call me Marty."

"Well, Marty, I'm gonna start with your head before moving to your hip. Is that okay?" she asks, eliciting an all-too sincere smile from Deeks.

"That's fine, Ashley," he answers, and Nell doesn't have to see her face to know that Nurse Ashley is smiling in return.

The stitches along the side of his scalp aren't as bad as he had thought they would be. The blue sheet lying over his head blocks most of his view, leaving him with nothing to do but listen to Nell carry on a conversation with the two nurses. The staples freak him out a little, more than he'll ever admit out loud. He doesn't feel it, but the sound and the knowledge that someone is actually stapling your head back together is enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Nell patiently waits for the nurse to finish patching up Deeks' head. He's a little upset to see that she's still wearing the clothes she had arrived in, while he had been stripped down to nothing and haphazardly wrapped in a revealing hospital gown. The fact that he is halfway lying on his side only exacerbates his feeling of being over-exposed.

As Nurse Ashley finishes cleaning the area around his stitches, she moves to close the curtain between him and Nell. Thankfully, she leaves a small gap so Nell can see Deeks' face, offering him a small, encouraging smile. He grimaces when he feels the cool air hit his exposed backside, shortly followed by a cold dampness as his caretaker sterilizes the area. He can't help the slight hiss that escapes him when Nurse Ashley injects something into the wound, insuring that he won't feel the stitches. "Are you okay?" Deeks looks over to see Nell's concerned face as she watches him react to Nurse Ashley's administrations.

"Yeah, she was a lot cuter when she wasn't stabbing me in the side," he quips, earning another eye roll from Nell.

"You do know I can hear you, right?" Nell hears Ashley ask from behind the curtain.

"He knows," Nell promises with a smile to match Deeks'.

Deeks shakes the memory away, and turns to begin the long trek back to his makeshift bed, silently hoping that Nell hasn't decided to take over the entire couch. Without the urgency provided by a full bladder pushing him to move forward, he finds the pain caused by movement to be more noticeable than it was on the way to the bathroom. Halfway back, he's forced to lean against the wall, allowing a wide archway to support his weight as he catches his breath and prepares to finish the pitiful journey.


Nell isn't sure what woke her up. All she knows is that she was suddenly aware of her surroundings, not remembering making the transition from 'asleep' to 'awake'. She had been dreaming one moment, and the next she realized she was looking at the ceiling, studying a small water spot near the wall, contemplating on whether or not Hetty knew it was there.

She tentatively moves her tongue against the roof of her mouth, hating the dry, thick feeling caused by the action. Cotton mouth. Adequately named, seeing how she feels as though she's tried to chew through a wad of cotton balls.

Looking around, she takes in her surroundings, feeling a slow assault of memory as the last twenty-four hours makes themselves remembered, mostly in the form of a dull pain radiating in her frontal lobe. She stretches her legs out, only just noticing the extra legroom on the couch. A quick glance to the side of the couch confirms that he couldn't have gotten too far, not unless he decided to venture across Los Angeles barefoot.

She lets her eyes trail from the sight of his boots, to look for any sign as to where he could have gone.

"I swear I could kick his stubborn ass. I should, you know. I should just pick up where that damn truck left off…" Nell keeps quiet as Kensi vents her frustration with her partner as she works to untie the last of Deeks' laces, removing his boots, and dropping them on the floor beside the couch.

As Kensi stands to push stray strands of hair out of her flushed face, Nell turns her attention back to the man in question currently passed out on the couch, the effects of his pain medication finally showing through. Despite the obvious pain radiating from behind his blue, glassy stare, Deeks had maintained that he was fine, working overtime to hide any true discomfort for fear that Kensi would coerce Sam into tossing him in a fireman's carry and dragging him back to the hospital.

When Hetty had forced Deeks onto the couch, banishing him from any part of the office aside from the couch or the bathroom, Nell had felt a combination of relief and guilt. Relief that he wouldn't be getting hurt any more, and would finally get the rest he was convinced he didn't need. Guilt that she was the reason he was hurt and now sidelined.

Both feelings instantly vanished the moment Hetty turned her gaze on Nell, informing her that she too was confined to the limited spaces. Stalking down the stairs, she wanted to channel some of that ire that Kensi seemed to possess when dealing with an unmanageable Deeks. If he had just stayed at the hospital, or even had gone home, she wouldn't be stuck on babysitting duty. However, as soon as she caught sight of him sitting at his desk, purposefully avoiding the couch, she let the inner quest for revenge die in transit.

He was completely oblivious to the fact that she was walking down the stairs. His eyes were trained on the stapler sitting near the overflowing in-box, and his jaw was clenched tightly, causing the muscle in his cheek to twitch.

His posture was radiating anger, and his eyes were clouded with something akin to sadness. A tough combination, made even scarier by the state of his clothes and the dark stains coating the side of his neck and head.

Kensi and Hetty were worried, and while Hetty tried using logic and authority to handle her feelings, Kensi relied on fury to help her deal with the fact that Deeks had been hurt and refused to listen to anything the doctors had said. The moment Kensi had left for the pharmacy, openly cursing Deeks' stubbornness, Nell had made a vow to figure out why everyone Hetty decided to employ looks at either anger or humor as appropriate outlets for all emotions, save happiness.

Walking forward and sitting in Sam's empty chair, Nell thought that then was as good a time as any to begin.

With a soft clearing of her throat, Deeks' attention was drawn from the stapler to look at Nell's questioning eyes. "What?" he asked, causing Nell to quirk one eyebrow. She's almost certain no one's ever accused Deeks of being a man of few words, but leave it to Hetty to toss that in the air. His voice had sounded tired, and his eyes showed a hint of embarrassment.

"I've been exiled, too." She had smiled, feeling a little awkward with a Deeks that wasn't smarting off, wasn't trying to lighten the mood. But not one to disappoint, he let the corner of his mouth rise into a crooked grin, "I thought the rules said only one could be voted off the island at a time."

"Well, with one Henrietta Lange as our chief, I feel she could sink the whole island if she saw fit, rules be damned."

Deeks had shaken his head, letting it fall back only to regret the movement as he frowned in pain. "You know what" he asked, not really stopping to see if she was listening.

He simply smiled, not one full of mirth, but one fueled by self-deprecation. "I don't think I've been called stupid so many times in such a short time frame since I was fourteen."

Nell hadn't known what to say, and was surprised to see Deeks letting his guard down in front of her. She expected it for Kensi, but definitely not her. Then again, she hadn't expected him to push her out of the way of an oncoming vehicle either.

"They didn't mean it like that," she had assured him. The entire team, save for her and Eric, had stated in one way or another how 'stupid' and 'idiotic' his leaving the hospital had been. When upstairs, he had waved it away, quickly offering a comeback to Sam, Callen, and Kensi's sharp retorts. But sitting next to him in the nearly empty bullpen, she could see that it was all for show. "They're just worried. The doctors said you need rest."

"I remember them saying the same for you."

"Yes, but they wanted you to rest in the hospital. They told me to go home." When he slanted his eyes to meet hers, she had shrugged her shoulders. "I spend more time here than my apartment, so in a way this is like home."

"I call bull," he said, a hint of his former smile shining through as he tilted his head.

Before she had a chance to defend herself, Kensi had walked through the door, brandishing two, small white bags and quickly handing them off to Hetty who had somehow appeared out of nowhere.

"Mr. Deeks, that doesn't look like the couch." Hetty reached in one of the bags and extracted a large, orange pill bottle. "You need to rest."

"Careful, Hetty. It almost sounds like you care," he teased as he accepted the large pill the older woman placed in his hand.

"I do care, Mr. Deeks," she had said, catching his eye and causing Nell to kick him under the table. Part of her hoping Hetty had heard his sheltered admission.

Before she knew it, he was laid out on the couch oblivious to Kensi's mumblings as she worked his boots off his feet.

She waits until Kensi leaves, following Sam and Callen towards the parking lot before she allows herself to sit down. She's a little surprised when Hetty walks towards her, two blankets folded in her arms. "Ms. Jones, it probably wouldn't hurt for you to get some rest as well."

"I guess I'm still a little wired," she lies, already feeling the effects of her own medicine pulling her to sleep. She smiles when Hetty gives her that look, the one that always makes Deeks whisper, "Resistance is futile." Hetty knowingly smiles and hands Nell one of the blankets before moving to lay the other over Deeks' relaxed form.

"Watch him for us, Ms. Jones, and get some rest. I think both of you have had enough excitement for the day." And with that, Hetty made her way back upstairs to monitor what was left of her team.

Now, lying on the same couch hours later, Nell begins to wonder where Deeks could have run off. She's contemplating reaching for her phone and calling him, too tired to actually get up and go search, when she hears the sound of doors straining on their hinges and ruffling of clothes as someone shuffles closer.

He rounds the corner, one hand rubbing at the back of his aching neck, and Nell can literally see the walls go up as he takes in the fact that she's awake. One minute, he's aching and sluggish, and the next he has that smile, the one she's almost certain causes Kensi to overlook many indiscretions on his part, even if she won't admit it.

"You think Hetty will let me use her Segway now?" he asks, as he takes his place on his end of the couch. He doesn't hide the hiss of pain, and even moves to wrap his good arm around his ribcage. Nell knows that Deeks isn't above complaining, trying to milk injuries for all they're worth, but usually the injuries aren't that severe. And when they are, he waits until they're almost healed before he starts his bellyaching, as Sam had put it. Deeks likes being in control, at least as much as he's allowed. Complaining and laughing about injuries is just one of his many ways of holding on to that control. Nell's not expecting anything different this time around.

"Where'd you go?" She tried to rearrange the blanket to cover up her toes, and hides her surprise when Deeks reaches over and pulls the blanket down to hide her feet.

"I had to pee like a pregnant woman," he says letting his head rest on the back of the couch. "Do you realize how far away the bathroom is from this couch? We need to petition Hetty to build one right over there." He gestures to the corner near the overused coffee machine. "You know, for us invalids."

Nell simply rolls her eyes, looking once more at the quiet room. She frowns when she realizes she hasn't spent this much time with Deeks since she met him, definitely not alone. Despite the somewhat morbid circumstances forcing them together, she finds that she enjoys his company, liking the friendly banter that's set the pace since meeting again in the ER after the somewhat tense ambulance ride.

She forces the memory out of her mind as Deeks looks towards her, pointing upstairs. "Have you heard any signs of life?"

Nell shakes her head and looks towards the empty stairs. "No, but Hetty's probably up there. I know Eric is." When Deeks smiles and takes an intake of breath, preparing to say something, she quickly points a finger at him, one eyebrow rising threateningly. "If you say 'that's nine', I swear I'll kick you in your stitches."

Deeks' smile only widens as he raises both hands in defense but tilts his head. "Kick me in my stitches, huh? That almost sounds as kinky as 'punching me in my bullet hole.'" When Nell lets her arm fall and frowns in confusion Deeks just shakes his head, "Never mind. Just a friendly threat from our resident Amazon. Long story."

He moves to push himself up further on the couch and inadvertently brushes his stitched side against the armrest, causing his face to scrunch in pain. Nell can't stop the memory from flashing through her mind this time, the look on his face being identical to the one he had worn while waiting for the ambulance.

She isn't sure what happened. One second she's walking to her car, feeling relief that the hard part was over, and the next she's lying on the ground, black dots dancing in her peripheral while a sharp pain radiates throughout her arm.

She remembers a lot of noise. Yelling, gunfire, glass, and something that made her think of the time her mom drove the station wagon into the neighbor's trashcans. Now, she's fighting a ringing, an honest to god bell ringing in her ears as she turns to look for the source of the sounds.

She sees Kensi standing next to the white SUV, gun pointed at the slumped form of the driver. She watches as Kensi quickly checks for a pulse before abandoning the man and putting her gun away before moving to the prone form lying on the ground dangerously close to the truck's front tire.

Nell's moving faster than she thought possible considering the poorly executed acrobatic move Deeks had just helped her perform. She's aware that Kensi's talking to her, but she can't really take in what she's saying. All her abused brain can process is the fact that Deeks is lying on the ground bleeding next to a very large truck with a Detective shaped dent in the windshield.

Holding her arm tightly against her chest, ignoring the instinctual fight or flight mojo that's telling her to get off her ass, Nell reaches out towards his side, raising the hem of his shirt up to reveal a large gash along his hip. Pulling the shirt back down to cover the gash, she bites her lip and applies pressure to the wound. She feels a lump lodge in her throat, threatening to choke her when the pain her administrations are inflicting causes him to arch his back, his face contorting in pain.

Kensi's still there, her hands on either side of his neck, talking to him, yelling for Sam and Callen to hurry. Nell isn't aware that the other agents have arrived until Sam's wrapping his arm around her waist, helping her to stand as he ushers her out of Callen's way.

She manages to pull it together enough to answer Sam's questions, but she still can't keep her eyes away from the mess lying five feet from her. When she hears the tell-tale signs that Deeks is okay, the tail-end of an inappropriate joke making its way to her despite the noise of the approaching ambulance's sirens, Nell allows herself to take stock of her own condition, an act that she instantly regrets.

Though the black dots are no longer dancing in the corners of her eyes, the intense throbbing taking place along her frontal lobe tells her she definitely hit her head. She's hoping that's the reason her emotions are going haywire. She's been in dangerous situations before, gone undercover, been caught in the middle of a fire fight, but for some reason, she's finding it difficult to calm her nerves and quell the shaking that's decided to take over her body.

She knows for a fact that at least one wrist is broken, the swelling and deep coloring being a dead give away. The sound of Deeks crying out in pain, his face scrunching up yet again causes her to end the injury inventory. She watches in silence as the paramedics load him onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. She doesn't resist as Sam helps her stand from her sitting position on the curb and practically lifts her into the ambulance thanks to her two injured arms.

The ride is spent with the paramedic asking them questions, alternating his attention between Deeks and Nell. As the paramedic begins asking Deeks a serious of random questions, trying to determine his mental status, Nell lets her mind drift back to the moments before the crash.

She remembers walking by Kensi, making sure not to give any indication that she knew the woman or to show any reaction when she began to follow her at a safe distance. She remembers hearing Eric's voice telling Deeks that she was almost to the parking lot. She remembers seeing Deeks, casually leaning against Kensi's car, looking like anything other than a man waiting to escort a 'borrowed' hard drive back to a secret government operating facility.

Her mind never gets a chance to recall the moment she heard Eric screaming to look out, because the paramedic places a tentative hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Sorry, what?" she asks, looking at both pairs of concerned eyes staring at her.

"Are you okay?" Deeks asks her with an intense look of scrutiny, as though he's trying to look for any sign of brain damage.

"I'm fine, Deeks," she intends to say, as her mind unintentionally replays Eric screaming for them to look out. She looks away as Deeks shares a worried look with the paramedic. She barely hears the man ask her friend, "Who's Eric?"

Deeks' snapping fingers pulls her from the memory. He's staring at her with the same intense study he had in the ambulance, and she realizes she probably does appear to be a little addled. "Sorry, I was thinking about something."

There's no smart comment, no crude joke. He casts a quick glance to the bruise on her forehead before simply nodding his head, showing her he understands, which she's extremely grateful for. The last thing she wants is to have to admit she may have called him Eric while in the ambulance. She's a little embarrassed to admit to herself that she may have been thinking about him more than usual, and being called out on it is not fun. She can still remember the teasing Deeks had started hours earlier concerning her seemingly constant mentioning of Eric.

"Your weakness for blond haired, blue-eyed surfers with…wait a minute. Nell, you have a thing for me don't ya?" he teases, pushing her knee with his foot.

"Exactly how hard did you hit your head, Deeks?"

"I'm just messing with ya…You don't have room for other guys, your mind's too preoccupied with, uhm…uh what's his name, the guy upstairs."

The fact that he seems determined to make her admit any feelings she may or may not have for her fellow tech is not one of the things she's growing to like about the man.

It had taken every ounce of self-restraint not to point out that Eric's eyes are green, not blue. That would have just added more fuel to the fire, along with taking Deeks' count into the double digits.

"Well, I'm thinking one of us should probably go up there and ask them about getting us something to eat," he says around a yawn. "And maybe, you know, asking where the hell everybody's at."

"Kensi's got honey buns in her desk," Nell offers, glancing around to double check that Kensi isn't actually within earshot.

"How do you know that?" he asks, already moving to stand and make his way to the desk.

"I gave them to her." She leans down and picks up her phone, quickly sending a text to Eric asking if everything's going okay. "They were going out of date and I knew I wouldn't eat them all before they went bad."

"So you give my partner stale honey buns?" he asks around a mouthful of the supposedly stale pastry. "That's very considerate of you."

"She didn't seem to mind," she defends taking one of the offered honey buns.

He eases himself back onto the couch, trying to avoid hitting the armrest. "So you're saying you wouldn't be offended if someone gave you a bad cupcake?"

"You ever hear of 'it's the thought that counts' Deeks?" she asks, pulling the wrapper away from the sticky honey bun.

"Yeah, when I was in middle school and my teachers would ask if I did my homework, I would tell them, 'No, but I thought about it.' They would tell me that it didn't count, and I would tell them, 'But I thought it was the thought that counts.' They didn't seem to think it was that funny."

Nell can't help laughing as she imagines a very grown up Deeks having the same argument with Hetty over expense reports. She's about to ask what the teachers had said when her phone lights up, alerting her to a text. "Eric says everyone should be back any minute. Hetty's on the phone with the D.A. wrapping everything up."

"Already? How long did we sleep?"

Nell shrugs her shoulders and works on finishing her honey bun. "Not long enough. I'm willing to sleep for another twelve hours or so."

Deeks smiles, "I'm sure Eric would be willing to help you with that," he teases. At the wide-eyed look of embarrassment, Deeks hurriedly raises his hand in apology. "Sorry, too much?"

"Little bit."

"Gotcha. I'll just step back over the proverbially line, and work on getting my foot out of my mouth."

"That'll be hard seeing how your head's stuck up your ass." Sam's laughing voice takes any real bite out of the comment, but Nell still looks to Deeks to see if it affected him. She relaxes when Deeks reaches out a hand for Sam to help him up.

"You been staring at my hiney, Sam? I always thought you were more of a legs kind of guy."

"Watch it, Deeks. Crash test dummy or not, I'll still push you back on your 'hiney'."

"Ah, promises, promises," Deeks says as he awkwardly moves away from the couch.

Callen drops a large stack of papers on his desk, eyeing them with the same enthusiasm as one would a sink full of dirty dishes before turning his attention to his three colleagues positioned beneath the small awning covering the sitting area.

"So, you had all the fun without me, huh?" Deeks asks, smiling at the look of irritation still evident on Callen's face.

Callen smiles, casting Sam a calculating grin. "Hell yeah, living it up while we can," he retorts. Letting his smile drop slightly as he sees the darkened bruises on both Deeks and Nell's faces he asks, "Seriously though, how you doing?"

"I feel about as good as I look," Deeks answers, prompting Nell to ask, "That bad?"

Sam and Callen both laugh as Deeks places his hand over his heart feigning mock hurt. "That wounds me, Nell. Wounds me. I thought you were my new best friend. We were getting along so well."

Nell smiles, reaching one arm over her head as she straightens her legs in a deep stretch. "It was probably the drugs," she jokes, surprising herself by winking at him as she settles back in beneath the blanket, "but I kind of had fun. You know, for the conscious parts."

"It was definitely the drugs, because that has not been my experience," Kensi states as she joins the others, pulling her keys out of her pocket. "I usually can't wait for him to fall asleep in the car." Kensi's harsh words fool nobody as she gives her partner a once over, visually insuring that he's okay. She turns her attention back to Nell, smiling as she says, "Maybe we'll get lucky, and he'll be out before we leave the parking lot."

"So you're still planning on driving us home? For a minute there, I thought you forgot about us, Partner."

"Oh, Deeks. I could never forget you," Kensi says as she lays her handing lovingly on Deeks's shoulder, her wide smile alluding to sincerity. "You're like one of those annoying jingles you hear on cheap commercials."

"Ha, ha" Deeks snorts, rolling his eyes as he looks at Nell. "I forgive you. She doesn't deserve fresh honey buns."

Nell tries to hide her smile by reaching for Deeks' boots as Kensi recognizes the empty pastry box lying on the couch. "You ate my honey buns?!"

"Chill, Kens. I'll buy you some more."

"That's what you said when you ate the last brownie."

Nell doesn't even try to hide the laugh as Deeks responds with, "Hey, it's the thought that counts."

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