A one shot. Written quickly, not reviewed. All mistakes are embarrassingly mine. All the characters and their flaws are Shane Brennan's (and what greatly flawed characters they are).


Callen watched Sam pull away in his black Dodge Challenger and shook his head slightly. A smile teased the edge of his mouth as he realised how similar Sam the SEAL was to his American muscle car. Both looked hard and unforgiving; not to be messed with. Callen gave the car and his partner one last glance before he lost sight of it. He turned with a sigh and walked up the path to his front door, pulling the keys from his jeans pocket and unlocking the door. He stepped in to the cool dark interior and pressed the switch. Artificial light slowly brightened the living space.

At least the new environmentally friendly bulbs took a few minutes to warm up, Callen thought, glad he was not immediately dazzled by a glaring high wattage light, illuminating his stark reception room. He had still not furnished his house; sure there was his easy chair, carefully situated near the fireplace with a coffee table the other side, piled high with a variety of foreign newspapers, books and a precariously placed chess board. The other side of the fireplace was a floor standing lamp, much more forgiving than the room's main light. At least it provided shadows so the room looked cosier than it actually was.

Callen placed his bag on the floor near the window and walked through to the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge door and grabbed a beer, twisting the bottle top off and leaving it carefully on the side. He took a long swig and leaned back against the kitchen work top, thinking about the day's case and how it was a day of surprises. Firstly, Sam dealt on the stock market. Well that was news to him but apparently not to Granger. Ok so they didn't share everything. Callen mentally checked himself. Ok, he didn't share everything with Sam but his partner however, was more of an open book. He pressed the cool bottle against his face and closed his eyes, recalling some of the conversations he and Sam had had over recent months. He opened his eyes suddenly, remembering a chat they'd had about Hetty; that Sam and Hetty conversed about gardening, investment strategies and woodworking. At the time he'd thought nothing of it but now...maybe he really didn't know Sam as well as he thought. And maybe Sam was right; the two of them really did have nothing in common. After all, their conversations were rarely conversations but banter. Sam would say something and he would rip his partner to shreds, tease him incessantly. He would say something – and if Sam was lucky, he would allow his partner to get one up on him – but only sometimes.

He'd really felt taken aback when Sam admitted they had nothing in common. And later it seemed that Sam was deliberately avoiding the thought that they had any shared interests. Whatever Callen had said, Sam stated he liked the opposite. And every answer Sam gave was true. By the middle of the case Sam was started to grate on him and for a moment he had been thankful that Sam wanted to be there when they found Kamal, especially as Callen had wanted to stay in the boatshed and continue his interrogation. That was until he realised Kensi had stitched him up with Deeks. Callen smiled and took another sip of beer. Deeks. The only time they'd partnered up before, they'd been all about the case but today, Callen just wanted to shut him out – or up – and work alone. It'd been a while since he'd thought like that. Working alone used to suit him; no one to rely on, no one to let him down and no one for him to disappoint.

Callen grabbed another beer from the fridge and headed back to the living room. He switched on the floor lamp and flicked off the main light, relishing in the change of atmosphere created by the shadows cast across the room. He placed the new bottle on the floor besides his chair and leaned back, stretching out his legs. The more examples Sam had found of them having nothing in common, the more difficult he had felt in pursuing the fact. It'd been chipping away at him all day. How could they be partners and best friends – no, in Sam's words 'brothers' – when they shared nothing in common? Did Sam even realise how much this had been starting to hurt him? Hetty had finally pulled something out of the bag when she had suddenly exclaimed "Monet" as he left that evening. So the one thing Hetty realised they had in common, was that they both appreciated Monet's art. Callen drank the remainder of his first beer and balanced the bottle on top of the precariously balanced chess board.

"Monet," he said out loud. It just sounded wrong. Maybe Sam was preparing him for a change. Maybe Sam was adopting one of Callen's tactics; pushing people away when you might need them the most. He wondered if that was another reason why they'd embarked on a brief partner-swap. Sam had just had enough of him. Callen did admit to himself that his main mission in life – outside of each individual case and operation – was to wind Sam up as much as he could. Was it really possible that he had achieved his aim and had pushed Sam in to preferring to work with Kensi or even Deeks.

Callen's thoughts turned to Deeks. Ever since they'd shared their torture experience, Sam and Deeks' relationship had changed. There was now mutual respect and understanding. A closeness between them that Callen occasionally observed with a slight pang of jealousy. Yes, he thought, that was it. That was why he'd been determined to prove to Sam they had something in common. He was jealous that Sam and Granger had clearly formed a bond behind his back. As a team they'd always disliked Granger; they distrusted him and was sure that he had a hidden agenda to destroy their team. The logical part of Callen's mind jumped in with the reminder that for the number of times Callen had blatantly disobeyed and been insubordinate to the Assistant Director, not once had he been punished. Callen smirked as he leaned down to reach for his second bottle of beer and thought that he must try harder to wind him up. The smile faded as he recalled Sam's words that he was acting like Sam was cheating on him with Granger. In a way it was true and it mirrored the way he sometimes felt about Sam and Deeks. He twisted the bottle top off and threw it hard in to the corner of the room. There was no bin and the metal cap pinged as it bounced several times before finding its resting place in a dark corner.

He wound Sam up because of the attention Sam gave him. It made him feel wanted and cared for. Callen had attended enough therapy sessions and read enough books to fully understand his own actions. And he also realised that Deeks acted the fool for exactly the same reason. Maybe he should partner with Deeks, he thought. He could wind Deeks up, and Deeks would wind him up...on second thoughts, maybe not. It would probably end in a fist fight. Callen took a long drag from his beer and shook his head. He was sure Sam had not realised how affected he was by their earlier conversation, and he was also sure that tomorrow, they would carry on as they always did. Perhaps Sam was right, perhaps not. Callen sat bolt upright in his chair and realised he'd wallowed in self pity for long enough. For eight years they had been partners. If they had nothing in common it must be the case that opposites attract. Whatever it was they had between them, it worked, and nothing and no one was going to change that.