GRIEF
Disclaimer: NCISLA characters belong to Shane Brennan. All original characters and this story are mine.
A/N: A small one shot in memory of Motsie of Atlantis. How death affects those left behind. And I know he would have enjoyed reading this one shot of Nell and Callen.
Grief. It must be the reason for it. Ever since she'd heard the news, Nell Jones had been in the foulest of moods. She thought she was doing okay. Picking up the pieces of her life and carried on. But she was wrong. Because nothing had gone right since he'd died.
Nate Getz had been her friend for longer than the rest of the team. She'd worked with him in an elite team, while she researched the South American country, Venezuela and its so called pro-American politician, Gutierrez. But Nell knew the lies behind Gutierrez's words, masking his hatred for the U.S. And if elected, he would become a high security threat for their country.
Nell was one of the agency's best analysts, which is why Henrietta Lange had employed her on her team at OSP. But by the time she'd arrived at OSP, Nate had been in demand by other departments within NCIS, and by other agencies. She was pleased for him of course, but she missed him. He'd bring out a smile on her lips whenever he returned to the mission. And although his visits became fewer as time went on, they still managed to keep in touch. Except for those two months he'd gone so deep undercover, they all thought he'd gone rogue after he'd kidnapped Callen. That day Nate appeared on the security cameras, when a disguised weapon transport truck had been hijacked, had shocked her to the core. She found it hard to believe he'd gotten himself in too deep, that he'd flipped and turned bad.
Nell tried to shake the memories from her mind. A lone tear spilled down her cheek, betraying the strong facade that she really was okay. Because the truth was, she was far from it. This was their Nate. He was their comfort, a release for the agents when things went wrong. He'd be the one whom Hetty would call in for her agents to talk to, when a case went bad. But when they didn't think it could get any worse, Nate kidnapped Callen.
She shuddered at the memory of when Sam called it in. Thankfully, the team were able to rescue Callen and Nate before it was too late, and that Nate hadn't gone off the reservation. He still was one of them, needing the team to help him.
Was. Past tense. Now he joined the list of men and women before him who'd died in the line of duty. Dom, Macy, Renko and Hunter, just to name a few. But the list for her boss was much longer than Nell's. Yet, Nell struggled to deal with this particular loss. There were so many things she hadn't told him. How much he meant to her. How he brightened her life and how she looked forward to his emails.
She felt his death hard, like the tiled floor of the mission. It was almost impenetrable. Almost.
A gentle hand gripped her shoulders, turning her around to face them. Her eyes lifted and she hitched her breath from the surprise of their contact. Up until this moment, no one had dared go near her due to her loathsome mood, since they'd heard the news a week earlier.
"Nell. I'm worried about you. We all are."
She stared at the cerulean orbs, pondering what to say. That she was really okay, and they, he, had nothing to worry about?
"I'm fine," she lied. Why did lying come so easily to her? This was the sort of behaviour she'd expect from the man before her, if they were in the reverse position.
He raised his brow at her. That look told her she'd failed to convince him. He knew too much about people's behaviours, not to notice what was really going on underneath the layers of her complex nature. Damn him for noticing. Just the near presence, his hands resting on her shoulders like they were, had her body shudder.
"You're cold. Where's your cardigan?" Callen's eyes scanned her ground floor work station for the green cardigan he usually saw her wearing.
She always kept it on, sitting still at the computer in this old building brought a chill to her back. But how could she tell him that she couldn't wear it? That every time she put it on, the tears flowed, because it reminded her of Nate. He'd surprised her with it for her birthday one year, the only one he'd actually been in town for the occasion, since she'd moved to Los Angeles. He'd taken her out on the town to celebrate. Her gut clenched tight, another wave of tears threatened to spill.
"I left it at home," she admitted, her voice quavered.
He knitted his brows together, showing no indication of letting her go.
"That's where you should be. You need time to grieve. He was a good friend to all of us, but I know you've known him longer than you've known the rest of the team."
Nell closed her eyes for a moment, to gather her inner strength to push the emotions that threaten to overwhelm her, away. When she opened her eyes, she looked through the fog of tears.
Callen drew her in close to comfort her. "I miss him too. He made this place brighter, even after the bad cases and none of us wanted to talk. He had his way to get us to open up."
Nell sniffed onto his blue shirt, taking the comfort from his warm body. He smelled of something masculine, a hint of leather? she wondered. Her nose was slightly blocked, so she wasn't certain, but all she knew was at that precise moment, she didn't want him to let her go.
"He was funny." Nell lifted her head and stared her hazel eyes back up at him. "He had this great sense of humour that made me laugh all the time. Even in the emails he sent me. He always found something funny to say, even if I could read between the lines that he'd had a bad day."
A smirk formed on Callen's lips. "Yes he was. Do you remember when he came back to pose as Hetty's son at the funeral parlour?"
A chuckle escaped Nell's throat. "Who would ever believe that Nate could be Hetty's son, he was so tall."
"Yes he was. But Nate enjoyed the role just the same."
"He also enjoyed trying to get you to open up. Get you to capitulate and talk to him. You were his greatest challenge."
Callen's lips curved upwards, "was I now?"
Nell nodded. "Yes you were, and you know it too." She poked him in the chest.
"He also worried a lot about you too. Especially after what he did to you." She nibbled on her bottom lip, unsure if she had crossed a boundary, talking to him about that case when Nate kidnapped him.
"Nate knew I could handle whatever he needed to do to me. He knew what I've been though, more than anyone, well, except for Hetty." Callen swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. His own emotions slipping out unawares. He'd come to comfort Nell. Clearly she was struggling with the loss of Nate. They all were struggling, but he had more experience of locking the pain away, to deal with it at a time when no one was around.
"He was like a big brother," Nell admitted. "And good friend. I miss him so much."
"Yes, he was." Callen pulled her in for another hug and gently kissed her on the top of her head.
A quiver flashed through Nell's body from the close contact and his warm breath on her head. Did he just kiss her? She blushed, and was glad she had her face buried in his chest. But then she stepped back like a lightning bolt, worrying Callen even more.
"Nell, what's wrong?" He studied her closely, looking for signs of what had caused her to react in such a way.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry on your shirt." She kept her eyes on the wet fabric, that clung to his chest. But images of what his chest was like under that shirt had her body rise in temperature. She was losing it. Grief had brought her lust for a colleague and friend. She couldn't be around him any further, the feeling she felt must be confusion from him comforting her from her grief.
"Nell!" Callen grabbed her arm and held her there, unmovable near her work station. Thankfully, the other members of Callen's team appeared to be out somewhere. Was it home time already?
"Let me take you home. I don't think you should be alone."
Nell shook her head. "No." She couldn't allow him. She shouldn't be alone with him. He of all people. What would Nate say about these feelings now? That her wild imagination was working overtime?
"I'm not allowing you to say no to me, Nell. You need a friend and so do I."
Her eyes lifted to his, she studied him thoughtfully. Yes, he was telling her the truth. It wasn't just her that needed the comfort, so did he. She nodded. "Okay."
Although she agreed, she was surprised when he grabbed her hand and led her out the back way to his Mercedes, past the water fountain. He unlocked the vehicle and opened the door for her. Why was Callen being such a gentleman?
She thanked him and slipped inside, she felt like a princess in a carriage. The interior of the Mercedes was much larger than that of her Mini Cooper. Neither of them talked on the drive, both of them lost in their thoughts, thinking about Nate. She was so lost in thought when Callen pulled up outside her apartment, she was surprised they'd arrived so soon. She climbed out before he could run around and open the door for her. She wasn't used to this from him. He was only a colleague and friend.
"It's okay," he tried to soothe her. He noticed the nervous energy radiate from off her. He took her hand again and gently squeezed it, before leading her towards the building.
A fire burned within her, her nerves quivered, like fireflies. She fumbled with the keys, berating herself for being so stupid. Then Callen's warm hand, rough from firing a weapon so often, and from manual work she was certain he did to occupy his sleepless nights, wrapped around hers.
"I'll do it." She relented and allowed him to take control. How did he stay so calm in all of this? What they were going to do would change everything. Brought together through that common need for comfort, to console each other in their grief.
He let her inside first, then locked the door behind him. He scanned her neat apartment, he wasn't surprised over the myriad of mixed matched colours and fabrics, dotted around the room. She'd made her own quirky taste a home, and Callen yearned for it. Such a contrast to his barren house, that was more a shell than a home. He might now have furniture in the place, but it lacked the colour and comfort this place gave him. An inner peace that provided something deeply buried inside his memory.
His eyes widened at recognition. He knew why she felt so right in his arms, and why he'd felt the attraction towards her for so long. She reminded him of the good in his early years. His own mother had decorated their Constanta home in similar fashion. Instantly he pulled her towards him and lifted her chin.
"I'll never hurt you, Nell."
Her eyes were deep with desire, the same Callen felt simmering inside his gut. Ever so softly, his calloused thumb ghosted over her skin, sending shivers down her spine. He studied her angles and curves like a map, embedded inside his memory of her, to take with him when he left. Not that he wanted to leave, but he didn't want to place any pressure on Nell if this was all she wanted from him.
He was taunting her. A moan escaped deep inside her throat. Then he captured her lips with his, before his mind became like a fog. Everything but her vanished away, and she consumed his every thought.
His touch was like magic, wiping the pain, her grief away, even if for a brief moment in time. She gave just as she received from him. Their bodies intermingled on the deep blue rug beneath them. The fire that ignited between them, provided that comfort they both craved.
Content, Nell laid snuggled beside Callen and fell asleep. This time her dreams were of happy memories and of the man who laid beside her, slightly snoring. A light smile edged her lips, wondering what Nate would make of this.
The End.