NCIS: Los Angeles

Hey.

Hey!

Mr. Prius!

Hey, I need to talk to you.

Roll down your window, homes.

I know you can hear me, man.

Nothing?

Seriously?

I look that scary to you?

Oh, man.

I'm such a jerk.

No Deeks, huh?

No, no Deeks.

We finished our workout half an hour ago,

and he's still getting ready.

Don't ask.

Where's Sam?

Still hitting the heavy bag.

Don't ask.

All right.

It's kind of nice.

It's peaceful, quiet.

Even a little Zen.

What?

There's nothing Zen about your desk.

What do you have against my desk?

Let's see.

I feel you, I hear you.

Sorry.

Kensi? Yeah.

You have a problem.

I don't have a problem.

Do you prefer sickness?

No. Disease?

Okay, I will work on it.

And I promise I will keep to my side of the line.

Well, I decided to get you... a gift.

Scrubbed House, Scrubbed Soul?

You think I need a self-help book?

No. No, you are way beyond self-help.

You need professional assistance.

Oh, that's absurd.

No, that is a New York Times Best Seller.

Millions of people can't be wrong.

Oh, come on.

This whole mess...

is about depression.

I am not depressed.

The book says...

that you need to surround yourself

with things that inspire happiness.

Okay.

Okay, I got your number.

I know what this is about.

Your pathological obsession with clutter?

No, not at all, this is about your issues.

Mine? Yes.

Really?

Callen, you're no more organized than I am.

You just don't have any stuff.

My stuff symbolizes that which you lack.

That's why you can't commit to a serious relationship.

Really?

Mm-hmm.

Oh. Okay.

Uh, what about Joelle?

I'm sorry, is that serious?

No, I didn't think so.

Yeah, 'cause you couldn't commit to a coffee mug.

Wow.

Well, at least you're not defensive about it.

Defe...?

Wait a minute, did Deeks put you up to this?

Even Deeks doesn't take 30 minutes to dry his hair.

Oh, oh...

I'm-I'm going to declutter his nose from his face.

Nope, not defensive at all.

Just posted an alternate version of that on YouTube.

12 hits and counting.

Sounded like a... saxophone.

Callen...

thank you so much.

Um, there's a case up in Ops.

Uh, Sam and Deeks are already up there.

I'll play you in.

One, two, three, hey!

That inspires happiness.

One dead body and one coma victim

from a car accident this morning.

Pedro Gomez killed Lucas Belridge, a CPA,

when Gomez plowed his delivery truck into Belridge's Prius.

What did LAPD find on the truck?

Uh, pastries.

Mostly muffins.

Pedro Gomez was also an undocumented worker,

but that's not why you're here this morning.

Isn't that across the street

from the naval recruitment center?

Surprisingly observant, but also not why you're here.

You're here because LAPD found this note

in Belridge's Prius.

"Luck Mon bod roll dean."

And "96 sky."

Please tell me we have more than just this to go on.

It's the phonetic spelling of Luqman Badr Al Din.

Oh, boy.

One of the LAPD officers to respond to the scene

was also a former Marine and linguistic specialist.

Before he was discharged,

he helped the CIA identify Badr Al Din.

What, so somebody just looked him up online?

Oh, no, this guy's name's been suppressed.

Even the CIA didn't know who he was until a few months ago.

And yet here we are.

If it wasn't the press and it wasn't a mole,

it seems Badr Al Din may have friends in Los Angeles.

We need to find out how Belridge figures into this,

talk to his family and friends, gather some Intel.

His wife's already waiting in the boatshed.

Right, that's us. On it.

Is that car in the impound yard?

Uh, yeah, I'll let LAPD know you're coming.

Chin up, you two.

Think of where we'd be if Gomez had been a better driver.

Thank you. Thanks, Tim.

Mrs. Belridge.

I'm NCIS Agent Blye.

This is my partner, LAPD Detective Deeks.

We're so sorry for your loss.

Can I get you anything?

You want any coffee or tea or...?

Tissues.

I already went through everything you had.

Of course.

Do you know why you're here?

Lucas isn't a terrorist.

Listen, I know this is all happening very fast,

um...

but we got to ask you some questions.

Is that okay?

Mm.

Did you notice any changes with Lucas recently?

What kind of changes?

Was he doing things he normally doesn't do

or saying things he normally doesn't say?

Lucas thought he was getting a big promotion at work,

and instead he got fired.

And when did that happen?

Two months ago.

He was a wreck.

Depressed and unhappy.

He never wanted to have sex.

I'm sorry, am I allowed to say that?

If you think it's important, yeah.

It's okay.

Um, do you know why he was fired?

Because he didn't want to cheat on me.

Um... his boss,

Stephanie, kept making advances,

and when Lucas said no, she fired him.

Mrs. Belridge, is there something you're not telling us?

He was spending nights out.

He'd say he was playing poker or basketball

and not to wait up, but then he'd be gone all night long.

Is this his handwriting?

No.

You're sure?

Lucas's handwriting was so messy,

you couldn't read it.

Does this mean he's not a terrorist?

We're trying to figure that out.

Checked that one in already.

Number 5993 is ready.

Number 5993 is ready. Hey, guys.

Self-help book's a pretty bold move for a gift.

Do you know how many times I've showed up in the morning

to find Kensi's trash all over my side of the line?

But it's still not a gift.

I paid cash for something, I gave that something to Kensi.

That is a gift.

Yeah, it's a gift, all right, for you.

You don't care about inspiring happiness,

you only care about Kensi respecting the line.

Is that such a crime?

I don't know if it's a crime, but it's a pretty lousy gift.

The book wasn't even my idea, all right?

Deeks suggested it.

Oh, now you're gonna pin it on Deeks.

G, you're better than this.

You know what, it's the last time I help anyone.

No, technically, you were only helping yourself.

Now, this is a gift.

I don't want to think about how many resources the CIA spent

learning Badr Al Din's identity.

I'm guessing a lot.

Yeah, a whole lot.

But this could deliver him right to our door.

I've got nothing back here.

Interesting.

One, two...