(A/N): Welcome to my CSI/ NCIS fanfic. It's my first crime show fanfic, so be nice  Aspects of characters' pasts are totally ficticious and of my own imagination, so don't berate me if you somehow know everything about a certain character, and realize that I got a name of his/her college wrong or something like that. In other words, I will be keeping true to the character's personalities and such, but other things like family history or background I may fabricate in order to make my story work.

Characters do not belong to me, they belong to their respective producers, directors ect.

Melissa (Warrick's wife) does belong to me…but I don't really care if you use her for whatever reason would want to… I don't even need her that much anyway…lol

I've decided to change the person Warrick is to marry for a few reasons. I do know that in the show, he is married to a nurse named Tina. However, that is about the extent of my knowledge of her. Therefore I have decided to just introduce an original character, so that if I feel the need to expand her character, I can do it without being abused by diehard CSI fans if I get something wrong. I doubt Warrick's wife will play a major role in the story, but just in case…

Introduction: 3 college buddies, separated by work, are reunited when one of them is preparing to get married. That of course means…bachelor party. However, when the groom to be wakes up the next morning with a dead stripper in his bed, and his co-workers and fiancée begin to doubt his innocence, it is up to the unwavering friendship of his two buddies to clear his name.

Warrick Brown woke up with a mind numbing pain in his head.

"I am never…ever…drinking again" he said to himself.

He knew he wasn't kidding anybody though. He had said that countless of times, after waking up the next morning from a big night out with his buddy Nick. Each time, the promise was kept for about a week at most. However, this time, the pain in his head was severe enough to actually consider it. He lay in bed with his eyes closed, trying to recall what actually happened the night before. The bachelor party.

As the pain began to subside at a snail's pace, he went through the past few weeks in his mind. He had proposed to his girlfriend of three months, at an Italian restaurant. He couldn't remember the name of the place, but particulars weren't that important to him at this point in time. He would have to remember later, or Melissa would probably slap him. Obviously, she had said yes, succumbing to his boyish good looks and his dazzling charm.

They had planned the typical Las Vegas wedding, a small affair with only a handful of closest friends and family at a church along The Strip. But before the wedding could take place, there had to be a bachelor party. The first person he needed to call, was his college buddy Anthony DiNozzo. Not that he didn't trust his other best friend, Nick Stokes, with organizing the thing, it's just that Tony was the king of parties. You needed to blow off some steam, get totally wasted and possibly laid, you called Tony. Nick was more conservative. A little shy, but still faired well with the ladies.

"It has to be the damn accent…" Warrick thought to himself with a smile. Together, the three of them had developed a close friendship over the few years they spent together in college.

Warrick was the only one of the three from Las Vegas. His father was a no show from the moment he was born and his mother died not too long after. He was raised by his strict, but loving grandmother. Not a privileged kid, He had to balance school and work as a teenager. When he graduated from high school, he had thought about skipping college and going straight to work. However, his grandmother objected, saying "You ain't gonna grow up to be a bum you hear me son. You go to college. I can look after myself." So reluctantly, he packed his things, and took up a baseball scholarship at Fresno State in California. While playing baseball there, he completed his degree in criminalistics.

While staying in California, he roomed with Nick Stokes. A quiet-at-first, but friendly guy from Dallas. They became good friends, sharing a love for science and beer. Nick was 'blessed' with rich parents, who paid for his education at Fresno, but that didn't bother Warrick in the least. Nick was always helping him out, giving him lifts to places in his car, and even paying for a return trip to Vegas when his grandmother got sick. The two of them also formed a close bond with Anthony DiNozzo.

Tony was a guy they had met in block party one night. The two of them were working their way through their second beer, when they noticed Tony. He was talking very animatedly to a bunch of college co-eds who seemed to be hanging on to his every word. Later that night, as Nick and Warrick were about to leave in a cab, Tony chased them down and pleaded them to take him with them. He was totally drunk, and on the verge of passing out, so they reluctantly obliged, Nick's morals prevailing over Warrick's street sense. Tony did pass out on the way back to campus, so Nick and Warrick dragged him into their dorm, and let him sleep it out on their floor. The next morning, he told them some story about a girlfriend wanting to kick his ass cause she found out he was two timing her at the party…while she was there.

Like Nick, Tony had rich parents as well. Well actually, he had a rich father. Although, the wealth amassed by his father was done so through illegal avenues. In other words, his father was a mobster in New York. He wanted Tony to join the family business, but when Tony declared his dislike for his father's life of crime and his willingness to go to college, his father cut him off. So Tony moved away from his family and attended Fresno on a football scholarship. Warrick liked Tony's love for life and he could always count on him to lighten the mood when he was feeling down. The three of them became inseparable during their college years.

Eventually, after a lot of hard work, and a hell of a lot of drinking, the three of them graduated. Upon graduation Warrick decided to move back to Las Vegas to take care of his ailing grandmother, who was approaching the final days of her life. Nick decided to come with him, and take up a job as a CSI level 1 in Las Vegas. Two months would pass before Warrick's beloved grandmother would pass away. He then joined Nick as a CSI level one. Tony remained in California, moving closer to the city and enrolling in the LAPD. He would spend a few months there, before transferring to Baltimore and to homicide. He spent two years in Baltimore, before moving to the nation's capital and joining NCIS.

It was now five years since college, and Warrick found himself in the very familiar position of not being a hundred percent of his surroundings. Eventually, he decided it was time to open his eyes and face the music. The sunlight nearly blinded him, causing his eyes to be added to the list of body parts which were experiencing a throbbing pain. He squinted them to allow them to adjust. Eventually, they stopped hurting and he gave them a quick rub. Good news…he was in his house. He was lying on his side, looking straight at his bathroom door. More good news…he had his boxers and his t shirt on. He sat up on the side of his bed, and immediately regretted it. He was feeling dizzy so he sat there for a minute. Once the dizziness subsided, he stood up gingerly, and walked into the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he turned on the cold water and gave his face a splash. The icy water gave him a jolt, nullifying the pain in his head and the sick feeling in his stomach. He turned the water off, and raised his head to look at himself in the mirror. What he saw almost gave him a heart attack. Outside the bathroom, laying on the bed behind him, was a half naked woman.

"Oh…my…god…" he muttered. "Please god no…"

"It can't be…" he thought to himself as he stood, frozen, his eyes transfixed to the reflection of the peacefully sleeping figure lying on his bed. Flashes of last night raced in and out of his head, in no particular order.

"Think dammit!" he said to himself. "Ok…were there any strippers last night? Yes, of course they were. Tony would have never forgotten the strippers." He thought to himself. "Was she one of them? He couldn't remember…no…he couldn't tell. He couldn't see her properly." He turned around to look at her. She seemed to be laying very still. "God…what the hell happened last night?" he racked his brain. He remembered getting a lap dance from one of the strippers, but she was a redhead. The woman lying in his bed was blonde. After that, he couldn't remember much. He was too drunk. "Damn you Tony! Did he do this? Did he set me up?" Warrick pondered.

"Ok, ok…think Warrick. Just wake her up, and get her out of here." He would get the details out of Tony later. He approached the bed cautiously, as if she would pop up and scare the crap out of him. "Excuse me…miss…" he whispered tentatively. She still wasn't budging. She was lying sort of on her back, except her head was turned away from him. Quite an awkward way of sleeping. Warrick continued his slow approach to the bed. She had a bra on, and the blanket went up to her waist, so nothing was exposed, but Warrick still felt a sense of shame as he began to get very close to her. "What would she say?" He was now within arms length of her. "Excuse me…" Warrick said as he shook her arm gently. Still, she remained fast asleep. "Maam…maam…you need to wake…" Warrick's last words got caught in his throat along with the taste of bile. As he had shaken her more vigorously, her head flopped around so that she was facing him. Warrick stood paralyzed with fear as he stared at her blood covered face.

"Oh…dear god…" the words crept out of his mouth almost without him noticing. Staring back at him, were a set of brown eyes, wide open, along with a third eye, smack bang in the middle of her forehead. Blood had gushed out from the nickel sized bullet hole in her head, onto her face and on the bed. Warrick took a few steps back. He felt the bile rising from his stomach, up into his throat. It was all too much. Whether it was the excess consumption of alcohol from the night before, or the grizzly sight of the bloodied up stripper, or a combination of both, it didn't really matter. Warrick spun around, lunged for the bathroom sink, and vomited.

(A/N): I know a lot of that chapter was flashbacks, but I had to establish background for the characters somehow. The rest of my story will be more action/suspense oriented so don't fret. Tell me what you guys think so far though.