DISCLAIMER: No, I do not own any character from Leverage/NCIS LA. Just having some fun with them for just a little bit.

A/N: Hi there! Just so you know, this is a continuation of my last story, "On the Other Side of Fear Lies Freedom"... that was a crossover of NCIS LA and NCIS... this time G. Callen is touching base with the characters of Leverage. The title is based on the platform they use in naming the Leverage episodes. I do hope you take time to read and review. If you haven't read the previous story, I hope you take the time to do that now... I love hearing from you. Okay, I will stand aside and let you get started. To say I am nervous is an understatement. Read... Review...


"Sometimes, you find yourself in the middle of nowhere,

And sometimes, in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself."

He was tired. It seemed he was always tired anymore. He left L.A., D.C., NCIS, Blackguard… everything because he was tired. Tired of going non-stop. Tired of the constant stress. Tired of the games, the lies, the secrets. Tired of pretending and of feeling angry, disappointed, frustrated and just tired of letting everyone down.

He was pretty much able to compartmentalize most of it, but the anger followed him. He hadn't missed this particular part of himself when he was settled in at OSP; the ever present paranoia of needing to constantly be on alert, always watchful and wary… trusting no one. He'd lived that life from the age of five to the point he agreed to lead Hetty's team. Even then it took more than a few years to truly trust them. When things went south and he was forced to leave the OSP, it was waiting for him like an old familiar friend. He never stayed in one place long, trusted no one, checked and rechecked information… He knew every exit and every escape route before entering a building. He carried himself with an intensity that kept everyone at a distance. He never started a fight he couldn't finish… and there were fights. The anger that burned in his gut demanded release and fighting gave him that. Blackguard offered him that release once… without it… the pain just ate away at him until it finally boiled over on some unsuspecting fool, not that they didn't deserve it. Still, he wasn't as in control in those moments. Days like that, he really missed Ziva. She wasn't afraid to pull her gun in order to gain his attention. He wondered at times if she'd ever really pull the trigger. He was fairly certain she would if the situation called for it.

Now he was just tired of traveling. He'd been on the move constantly over the last few months. He'd been everywhere yet tended to return to the coast lines… near the water. The one thing that always calmed his spirit was the beach.

He'd agreed to Alexandra's request and had stayed with her for about two weeks while he recovered and regained his strength. He enjoyed getting to know his sister and nephew. It was hard at first but she was patient and Jake was persistent.

Once he left there he just drove with no real destination in mind. He did check in with Gibbs from time to time to let him know he was alive and well. He had made him promise.

At one point he had asked Ziva to join him but she declined. As it turned out, she'd finally realized what he'd known all along, she loved Tony. He couldn't say he understood the attraction. The guy drove him nuts. He was a good agent, just annoying, much in the way Deeks could be. Despite that, he knew that both Tony and Deeks would be good for Ziva and Kensi. They'd take care of the women and keep them safe. He chuckled at the fact that truth be told… knowing both women the way he did, they didn't really need protecting and they could knock both men on their butts if push came to shove. But he knew they would protect their hearts at all cost to keep them from being hurt and that was just as important to Callen as anything else. They deserved to be cherished.

When he left LA he knew only one thing for sure… he had no clue what he wanted anymore. He had no one he truly trusted anymore. Gibbs would always be there but he was too close to everyone involved. Then there was the information that Granger and left him. He had no clue yet what he was going to do with that. He needed time to process it and then figure out how to find the rest of the missing information so he could begin to know how to approach these individuals involved… and he WOULD approach them. He needed time to clear his head of all that had happened and regroup.

Now after all this time, he was still no closer to knowing what he wanted. Gibbs had told him Vance was pushing for an answer and Blackguard was calling him with jobs. Neither acted as a motivator. Aside from the occasional call from Kamran or Aiden, he'd not heard from anyone in L.A. Not that they'd been able to find him. Eric knew better than to even look.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he exited the cab he'd taken.

He stopped in front of the pub, "McRory's Place". It sounded like a good place to lose himself for a while. The constant traveling was wearing thin. Though he was in good shape, he wasn't as young anymore and the old injuries ached. He was fairly sure that no one would look for him in Boston, Massachusetts.

He ordered a beer and took a look around. It was nice. He was surprised by the soft hum of the place. There wasn't a lot of racket, of course, it wasn't the weekend either. Still he appreciated the quiet solitude it offered.

He took a swig of his beer and let his thoughts wander as he absent mindedly picked at the label on the bottle.

The peace and quiet was short lived, however. The door swung open on an argument.

"Damn it, Hardison! You pull that again and I'll hit you so hard your ancestors will hurt!" Eliot growled.

"I don't know what you're so upset about." Hardison replied as they all gathered at a table. Callen took notice that the waitress had delivered a tray of various drinks without even asking, though he put little more thought into it.

His mind was drawn back to the bullpen where there had been similar conversations. Bantering between partners, shared torment of one LAPD liaison and then the battles over the last donut ending with only one obvious outcome. Callen missed those days. Ignorance really was bliss, he reckoned.

His thoughts sobered as he remembered those days. He figured there was much more that had changed in his absence. Suddenly the peace of a moment prior was gone, leaving him with an old familiar feeling… his near constant companions… anger and frustration. He was so caught up in his thoughts he was taken off guard when someone laid their hand on his shoulder. Instinct took over and what came next ended every conversation in the room. Callen grabbed the intruder's arm and pulling them into the bar then throwing an elbow backwards into his ribs before spinning off his stool throwing them back, his gun pulled, safety off, finger on the trigger before he realized he recognized the man in front of him.

"Long time no see, Callen." Eliot grinned.

"You trying to get yourself killed, Spencer?" Callen growled as he holstered his gun.

"As if" Eliot replied with a smirk his hand extended.

Callen's eyes narrowed, "as if" debating the challenge, all the while returning one smirk for another. He grasped the offered hand, allowing himself to be pulled into a brotherly hug though Eliot Spencer was quick to notice how he tensed up. He knew all too well the fight or flight response."

"How've you been, Eliot?" Callen asked.

"Better than you from what I heard. Thought you were dead there for a while. You still with Blackguard?" Eliot asked, grabbing his beer from the table and joining Callen at the bar. He ignored the questioning looks coming from Nate and the others.

Callen didn't look up but resumed picking at the bottle's label as he answered, "Mmmmm Not sure."

"Something happen?" Eliot asked before taking a drink.

"Life happened." Callen said nonchalantly.

"Understood… Well, I'm glad to see you in one piece there, Ghost."

"You too, 'Rook'," Callen said raising his bottle in toast, "Thanks for having my back."

"Meh, I owed you one…" Eliot said.

"Just one?" Callen asked with a chuckle, "So what's with your groupies?" motioning behind them with his head.

"Oh, them? I don't know… they're friends?"

"You askin' me or tellin' me?" Callen threw back.

"Ch… It's complicated." He grumbled.

"No, it's not" Callen glanced sideways, "Didn't figure you for working with a team anyway."

Eliot turned to look at Callen who did little to acknowledge him, "No clue what you're talking about." Eliot said, glancing over his shoulder as Nate eyed the other man carefully and Hardison tapped away on his laptop.

"Don't play me, Spencer." Callen said. When Eliot's only reply was a growl, Callen chuckled and he forged ahead. Turning to face the people in question, "You think I didn't know what you were up to when I put you on my team?"

"Damn it, Callen", he growled.

"Eliot? Is everything okay?" Sofie called out.

Callen flashed a rare grin at Eliot, "So, they don't know about your extracurricular activities?" he stated.

"No, not normally… They worry too much." Eliot replied.

"Let me get this straight, your job on this team is to put your life on the line to keep them safe. No back up… yet they worry about you going on a mission with a highly trained group of fellow assassins?" Callen chuckled.

"Yeah, shut up", he grumbled.

Amused by the similarities their lives contained in regards to their teams… once upon a time, "I get it, trust me. Just be careful you don't lose your edge in the process, Spencer." Callen said looking down to the floor before bringing his sights back up as Eliot answered.

"Didn't seem to hurt you any working with the OSP", Eliot tossed back.

"That's where you're wrong. Your team trusts your training and ability despite their concerns. Mine, not so much. Hetty was so afraid of something happening to me that she refused to let me do what needed done. They took issue with me doing anything on my own… Lone Wolf tendencies." Callen shook his head, "Bathrooms?"

Eliot pointed him in the right direction before returning to his team.

"So, who's that, Eliot," Sofie asked.

"Name's Callen. I've worked with him off and on over the years," he answered.

"Well, his name ain't Callen, I will tell you that," Hardison stated, "Plus, I ran facial rec. and found nothing. It's like this guy doesn't even exist!" he finished as he threw his hands up in frustration.

Eliot smirked, "that's because he doesn't exist… outside government walls. No he's definitely Callen. He's what's known as a legend… a Ghost."