AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Title: Office of Special Projects

Rating: T

Story Premise: What if Office of Special Projects has a dual meaning? It does for Sam and G as well as Eric and Nell.

Category: Humor/Angst Short Story

WARNINGS: None

DISCLAIMER: NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

My stories are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. This is a work intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA. I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

Reviews appreciated and welcomed.

Office of Special Projects

Late on a Saturday night, Sam and G set up the equipment in the OPS Center.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" G asked for the fifth time that night.

Sam sighed. "You've got no sense humor?"

"I didn't say that." G got defensive again.

"Then what's the problem?"

G helped Sam hardwire in the new equipment. "Nothing."

"You think Hetty will get angry."

"N0."

"Then what?"

G sighed this time. "Payback is a bitch."

"Yeah, so?"

"If he finds out we did this, there will be payback."

Sam stopped hardwiring in the equipment and glanced over at his partner.

"What?" G stared back at him.

"And you can't handle payback from him?" He chuckled.

"Okay, I know it makes me sound as if I'm a wuss."

"A wuss?" Sam snickered. "Try yellow-bellied."

G dropped his tools and slumped into one of the chairs where Eric and Nell usually sat. "You're calling me a coward?"

"Well, if you can't handle his wrath you've got serious problems."

"He could reprogram my computer or…"

"Or what?"

"Something worse."

"He's not usually the plotting type."

"He's got help now with her on board."

"True."

He sighed. "Last time we pulled a stunt on him, she wasn't there to help him." G remembered back to the time they pulled a practical joke on this team member. Sam and he laughed hard and their sides ached for days afterward. "He could reprogram the Mercedes's onboard computer."

"Now you're beginning to make him sound as if he's James Bond working as a tech," Sam said, sniggering.

"You may think this is funny."

"It is." He sat in the other chair. "You are the top undercover agent and you are worried about a little payback from him." Sam turned the chair back to his project.

G faced the unit again and worked with his partner to finish their special project. Who would have thought the Office of Special Projects could have a dual meaning. "Who taught you how to do this stuff?"

"Yeah, I know and now we're turning the tables on him."

"Well, one thing for sure, I can't wait to see the videos."

"Now, you are talking, G, see there's something to look forward to with our special project."

Sam and G finished their hardwire and relaxed in the two chairs.

"What if he already planned his special project and we don't know about it?" G said.

"Such as?"

"My mind can think of bad scenarios."

"Well, tell your mind not to worry."

"What?" G glanced at him sideways.

"You can be a worrisome guy."

G gave his partner a soft punch in the biceps. "Thanks for reminding me."

"We'd better get out of here before the cleaning crew arrives."

Sam and G gathered their tools and equipment and stashed them in their cases. They checked the OPS Center one last time and left.

#NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA #NCIS:LA

The team was called to a special meeting in the OPS Center at noon on Monday. Hetty stood by the HD video screen waiting for her team to assemble.

Sam and G took up their positions, leaning against the light table in the room's center. Both had smirks on their faces, which they kept hidden behind pretending to scratch their day old beards and mustaches.

Kensi and Deeks entered the OPS Center last and took up their positions behind the light table.

Eric and Nell were no shows.

"We have a problem," Hetty said, beginning her monologue, "someone has interfered with the video projection devices in OPS, causing them to broadcast Mr. Beale's private residence onto the video screens. He arrived here early yesterday morning to finish a project for me and discovered that he was not able to view anything on the HD video screen except himself taking a shower that morning. And today, everything which occurred in his apartment over the course of Sunday ended up on the video screen. Would either of you gentlemen know who is responsible for these shenanigans?"

Sam and G attempted to keep straight faces.

"No," G said, keeping his words few to avoid laughing out loud.

"Mr. Hanna?"

"No," he said, keeping it short too.

"Apparently, whomever is responsible hardwired the equipment into the OPS Center's video system and it is remotely controlled." Hetty sighed and interlocked her hands at the small of her back. "Whomever has stooped into this skylarking triviality needs to come forward and make their apologies to Mr. Beale. That will be all." She flipped on her heels and exited the OPS Center.

As soon as the doors closed, Sam and G bent over laughing, close to hysterical.

Kensi and Deeks stared at them.

"I never thought I'd see the day that you two played a practical joke on Eric," Deeks said.

"We've done it every year on April Fool's Day." Sam straightened and turned around to face Kensi and Deeks.

"You'd think Hetty would've known by now that it was coming again," G said, resting his aching body on the light table. His stomach and sides ached from the roaring laughter he and his partner experienced on Sunday and earlier this morning. They watched from the comfort of G's house and saw Eric's jaw drop upon seeing himself on the video screen stark ass naked.

"I think she knew it was you two," Kensi said. "If you'll notice she didn't address her words to Deeks and me."

"That's true," Sam sighed, "and she knows we'll do it again."

"No ops?" G asked.

"I think the ops is you two making your apologies and removing the equipment."

Sam and G sighed one after another.

"Apology first," G said. "I suppose Eric is at home."

"Yeah, recovering from our practical joke," Sam said.

They strode toward the doors and exited the OPS Center. In the bullpen, they gathered their personal items and headed toward Sam's car.

"Well, did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yeah, it was worth every moment," G said, "and no payback, that's what I'm enjoying."

"Me too."

They climbed into the Challenger and put on their seat belts.

Sam started the engine, revved it once, and backed down the driveway.

"What are we planning to do next year?" G said.

"I'll think of something, I always do." After he turned onto the main thoroughfare, Sam adjusted the radio to his favorite jazz station. Show tunes blasted through the speakers, jarring his nerves. "Bastard! I hate show tunes. I'm gonna kill him." He changed the channel to his other favorite jazz station. Nothing but pure static. "He's a dead man. No apology." Sam turned the Challenger back toward headquarters. "Let's take your car."

"You never suggest that."

"I am now and don't push it, man." He parked the Challenger and they both strode toward G's Mercedes near the front of the building.

Both men turned the corner and their jaws dropped. The Mercedes now sported a new look, neon pink with neon lime green polkadots.

"He's screwed." G climbed into the driver's side. Before he closed the door he switched the key to accessory and tuned in his favorite radio station. The jarring sound of improvisational jazz blared through the speakers. No sound control. "He's royally screwed. What did I tell you, Sam? Payback is a bitch."

I hoped you enjoyed my April Fools' Day short story.