Dis: I own nothing, and make no profit from this.

Tag: post episode 1x22

G was starting to understand how Sam must have felt after watching him gunned-down.

The white fury that burned in his chest constantly, that threatened to ignite at any moment and would explode behind his eyes at the slightest of things. It was as if his emotions had been soaked in butane. Worst was that he knew he wasn't alone. The rapidly spreading wild fires of California couldn't hold a candle to fiery rage that burned inside of his team.

It was awkward to say the least, him feeling the need to approach Nate and ask, but it had been eating away at him for the better part of the week and this morning, just like the bad word plays in his head he couldn't shake it.

"How long is this going to last?" He asked Nate with no pretense or introduction. He'd almost expected the man to spit coffee all over his precious comic book.

G was wrong. It wasn't a comic book inside of the folder, it was a resume. That white fury flared causing G to tilt his head and narrow his piercing blue eyes at the conspicuous green folder.

"I think it has about come to a head." Nate said.

"Were they like this when I was –"he didn't say it, he didn't have to. His hand extended for the folder and Nate handed it over as if had actually asked for it.

"Yes. Before you ask; would you have wanted me to tell you? And no, it never goes away. Not completely." Nate said standing and walking towards the coffee pot. It was then that he noticed the doc was moving with all the grace of an ostrich with arthritis.

He shook his head wondering if the bad puns and word plays were part of this or simply some coping mechanism he had picked up from Kensi.

"Oh and Hetty wants her file back before you meet with the Director." Nate said before, and only God knew how, chugging half the cup of scolding coffee.

"The Director?" G asked and instinctively spun around to face Hetty

"In twenty-five Mr. Callen." She smiled, one of those very pleased with herself smiles, "And feel free to discuss the resume of Mr. Beal's much needed and over due assistant with him."

Oh yeah, Hetty was pleased with herself on that one. He just moved on with his morning and to the next observation that had been bugging him, and undoubtedly the Doc too. He was gonna pay for this later.

"Nate, we haven't done lunch for awhile, Taco Via?" he tossed out as they both watched Sam settle into his desk and check his e-mail. After all it was only nine-forty-one. No big deal for a former seal whom was never late for anything.

"One work for you? " Nate responded, a new, now blue, file in his hand.

"Sure, you can tell me all about your new workout routine." G teased.

AN: I wrote this a long time ago (Jan 10th to be exact), I think at first it was ment to be a songfic loosly based around The Wallflowers' "One Headlight"

I'm sure no explination will be needed for as to why characters feel the way they do. I find that I am quite happy with this one the way it is.