NCIS: Los Angeles doesn't belong to me.
So…Good Talk
Callen took his eyes off the road and looked at his partner who was smiling at him. "What?" he asked him.
"Nothing," Sam replied, laughing softly.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Callen asked him.
"How?"
"Like you know something," Callen replied.
"You know why," Sam told him.
"It was just a slip … of the tongue, I meant our team," Callen defended himself, "and besides you know you're always on my team, it's always our team."
"If you say so," Sam said.
"I don't even see what the big deal is anyway," Callen continued, "and you have to agree having her on our team helped us win tonight."
"I know."
They drove on in silence both aware that this was about much more than the basketball game.
"You have to admit it does have some advantages," Sam said.
"What are you talking about?" Callen pretended not to understand what his friend was saying.
"Nell already knows who you are and what you do and she doesn't seem to have a problem with it," Sam said, "so you wouldn't have to lie and keep things from her."
"I know."
"So now you do know?" Sam asked, pretending to be puzzled.
"Shut up, Sam."
"The way I see it," Sam said, "the only real problem you have is convincing her that an old man like you can be suave and charming."
"…"
The End.
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