Hi. I like the banter/relationship between Percy and LaSalle, but I'm probably in the minority when I say it's not time for them to connect on the show. I feel like it hasn't been earned. The writers still have some work to do. They aren't at a point (for me) that their connection seems necessary, urgent, undeniable. I'm a girl who loves a good slow burn. But in the meantime, there's always fan fiction. This will be a collection of one-shots. I'm open to prompts but remember patience is a virtue. Actually, I'm just a professional procrastinator.

It was Sonja's first night of solitude in the new apartment since she and Gregorio moved in. There were endless housewarming parties that were mostly an excuse to drink and dance. When you chased the bad guys and dodged bullets you needed a release. But today she wasn't in the mood to party, at home or a bar. She didn't even have it in her to pretend. Her relaxation this evening would be in the form of mindless television, preferably one of those baking competitions. It took everything she had to convince Gregorio she was okay and simply in need of a quiet night in. Tough job when dealing with a bad ass former FBI profiler. Gregorio never let up and unfortunately her latest interest involved Sonja's love life. Gregorio was convinced her desire to close herself from society, an overstatement if Sonja ever heard one, was due to LaSalle.

"Finally," she said as she sat on the couch with a beer and a small bowl of kale chips. Just as she reached for the television remote there was a knock on the door. "Spoke too soon," she muttered as she headed for the door. Unexpected guests were on her list of dislikes. She looked through the peephole and on the other side was LaSalle.

She took a step back, her eyes darted around wondering what to do. For a moment, she considered pretending she wasn't there but that wasn't the mature thing to do. Since joining the team she had grown a lot, and LaSalle was profound in that growth, which included facing her shit. She didn't want to backslide. She was overtaken by that initial gut reaction of excitement and dread when you lay eyes on that complicated guy who couldn't be put in a single box like friend or co-worker, platonic or not.

She took a deep breath and looked down at her clothes before opening the door. She didn't speak. Didn't smile. Didn't motion him in. Gregorio was right. Her detached behavior the last couple of days was about him. When her mind wasn't focused on their case, it drifted to him. What he did. How she felt as a result.

He stood there looking shy and cocky, a combination that made no sense but perfectly encapsulated Christopher LaSalle, her partner and friend who somehow managed to become something more, something that scared her. The entire team was close but she and LaSalle had a deeper, different bond. Or, at least they did. They clicked from the moment they met because they both loved to dish out the quips and because she was notorious for inserting herself in someone's business when they seemed lost. And Christopher LaSalle was one lost soul when she met him. A bipolar brother accused of murder and not long after a dead girlfriend. All she wanted was for him to be what she wasn't — okay — and that set them on the collision course of tension they currently lived.

"Everyone was wondering about you. Where you were. I told them you were probably making some of those smelly vegan snacks," he said in that thick Alabama accent that made him adorable and funny. It also lulled people into underestimating him. A dangerous miscalculation.

"Didn't feel like hanging out." She remained at the door, blocking his entrance.

"You gonna let me in?"

"You gonna ask?"

"Percy," he said before briefly looking down the hall, maybe regretting his decision to come over.

It was usually hard to resist that puppy dog expression he pulled on her. His goofball antics kept her the most carefree she had been in a long time. Though right now, she wasn't feeling amused. Despite her hesitation, she stepped aside and let him in.

"Got another one of those?" He nodded toward the beer in her hand.

She rolled her eyes and handed it to him. "Here. Meet me out on the balcony."

He laughed as he walked off.

When she joined him with three beers, two for her and another for him, he was sitting on the wicker couch. It was a hot night and the air heavy. Not a breeze to give reprieve from the humidity. They didn't speak, letting the music down below fill the void and prolong the start of a topic that always unnerved her. She leaned over the railing ad marveled at such a magical city that was full of music; it was 24/7. In restaurants, bars, street corners, and now it was the "thing that did something for them."

"The place looks even bigger without so many people," he said.

She grunted and shook her head. He wasn't here for small talk and though she wasn't interested in why he showed up at her place, small talk was even more insufferable.

"Percy, can we talk?"

She spun around and leaned against the railing. She sipped from her beer as she watched him.

"I messed up."

Her eyebrows raised. "Really? How so?"

"Gregorio already chewed me out. Let me tell ya, New York definitely got your back."

When Gregorio entered their lives as an FBI agent gathering information on them due to a mole investigation, they butted heads even though they worked damn well together. But since joining NCIS, she was fast becoming one of the truest friends Sonja ever had. The infraction that put him in Gregorio's cross hairs was him walking in the office making sure Sonja heard his phone conversation with who was surely the latest woman he had been entertaining.

"About?" She feigned ignorance.

"The call," he said softly like a guilty child.

That call was an embarrassing moment for her. Not only because he did it, but Gregorio saw right through it as well. He made her look like some poor fool chasing a guy who wasn't interested. Both those things were untrue; she wasn't chasing and he had an interest.

"I wasn't upset because of the conversation. I was...am angry because you went out of your way to make sure I heard so I would feel bad."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?" She asked with more bite than she planned.

"Feel bad about the girl?"

Girl. He always referred to women as girls when they didn't mean anything more than crawfish and beers at some dive bar. When he didn't think about them in his life beyond the moment he was with them.

"Come on, LaSalle." He was smarter than that and if he wanted to have this conversation it was going to be real, straight no chaser. Not some placating bullshit. "That is what was you were going for, wasn't it?"

"Sorry, Percy. That wasn't my intention. I'd never want to hurt you."

She joined him on the couch. Her body positioned toward him. A leg tucked beneath her. Her arm propped on the back of the couch. Resting her head on her hand. She stared at him, finding it hard to believe he didn't know what he was doing and how it would play out.

"What?"

"What hurts the most is that, when it's all said and done, that was your intention. How could it be anything else? You wanted to make me feel bad and I thought we were better than that. How could you do that? Things got uncomfortable so you treat me like some random?" She shook her head. "Hella disrespectful."

"I was trying to save us. Trying to end something before it started for both our sake."

"You already said it couldn't happen and I agreed because that's what I've always believed since we had that non-moment moment."

After a particularly tough case, one in which she was seconds from death, he was feeling particularly overprotective and when she wasn't receptive, he pulled her into a hug that sent her reeling. It was something she didn't know she needed until it happened. She felt a certain safety and calm as if she finally released a breath she didn't know she had been holding when she was in his arms. He held her tight and before she knew it she was doing the same. They pulled out of the hug but remained in each other's arms, faces so close. And then she saw it, how the look on his face shifted. How his eyes traveled from her eyes to her mouth. For a moment she was tempted to give in to the desire but she pulled away and practically ran out of the office, afraid to look back. Afraid of what she'd see. Afraid she wouldn't resist a second time.

"First, it was definitely a moment, and maybe, I don't know, I guess I was trying to remind myself."

"Then you talk to me. Don't play a game with me. Don't give me the cold shoulder. We're supposed to be friends no matter what, LaSalle. What you pulled? That's not having my back."

"You're right."

She looked at him, studying him. She never met a man equally, if not more, complicated as herself. Since that hug they had numerous awkward moments but six weeks ago she was feeling particularly emotional herself after being jailed on perjury charges and he was there for her, fought for her and she thought she was showing her appreciation as she struggled to tell him just how much his support meant to her but he saw more. Maybe he was right, maybe she would have said something she would have regretted had he not stopped her.

"Were you jealous?"

She rolled her eyes.

"My mama will tell you your eyes gonna get stuck in your head with all that eye-rolling."

"You got me meeting your mama now?"

He laughed. She finished off her beer as she stared at the lights on the bridge. He was watching her. Even if she couldn't tell by her peripheral vision, she could feel his stare. It was deep. Penetrating.

"So?" He broke the silence.

"What?" She turned her head to face him but she didn't look in his eyes, she focused on his left ear.

"Were you jealous? I answered that question once. Only fair you do the same." He gave a small smile.

She held her head down in defeat and nodded her head. "A little. What good does it do us to know this about each other?"

"Honesty is always the best policy, right?"

She shook her head. "I don't agree."

He smiled. "Know where we stand. Maybe be a bit more considerate of how certain things about our lives makes the other feel. I'll go first. I'm gon' try, but the thought of sitting at Pride's bar and chit chatting and laughing with some guy you're dating and pretending it's all cool doesn't sound fun. At least not yet."

"Ditto."

"So this can't happen, right?"

Was that a question or a declaration. If she was being her most honest, she was apprehensive not against. If there was a such a distinction. She'd take the slightest in semantics right now. But admitting something like that to him or anyone would make her feel exposed. She already felt that way finally admitting it to herself. If he knew she was unsure she would feel like she had no control and she always needed to control any moment.

"Yes, Christopher. I agree. It would be messy." She looked up to the sky. "We're not insurance adjusters working in cubicles."

It would be a fatal blow to the team they worked so hard to keep together through FBI investigations and corrupt local politicians threatening to kick them out of New Orleans.

He chuckled then became somber. "This job takes an almost singular focus. It's hard enough being worried about everyone on the team. Can't imagine worrying about the woman I love."

Her breath caught. "That's what this would turn into? Love?" She cringed hearing her voice; she sounded almost child-like.

"You'd risk everything — our friendship and the team — for something less?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. Maybe in another life if we didn't work together. But now that I've got you as my partner, I never want to lose that. This team we have is something special. It don't come around often."

After years as an undercover ATF agent, setting her own rules and not thinking about others, it was a hard adjustment giving her trust to others. But just like LaSalle, this team meant everything to her. She looked down and ran her finger over the opening of the bottle. Her hair fell down and shielded her from his view, but not for long as he brushed her hair back. When he didn't remove his hand she smiled and shook her head.

"Mixed messages, Christopher."

"I ain't say this was going to be easy. Just necessary."

She frowned, not out of anger but confusion, something she felt often when it came to all things Christopher LaSalle. He sent her emotions into a tailspin. They danced this dance a few times. Alternating who did the leading. In a matter of seconds they always managed to go back and forth in words and actions regarding their feelings and what was best. She stood, needing to put distance between them.

"Never done easy. Not in my life," she said with a sigh.

Especially her love life. So complicated, she opted to not have one for a long time. It was LaSalle who helped her open up so she could truly be part of the team. That also made her more open to living a full life, which meant romance, but it wasn't supposed to be him she contemplated having that with.

"Despite what you said, I know you believe in being honest if not just plain blunt," he said as he walked over to her. "So can we both work on telling each other what's going on in our heads? Because you treating me like the enemy was no fun for me either."

She nodded. "Sorry, Country Mouse."

"We good now?" He asked.

"Yeah."

They were about to hug but opted for a safer display of affection, a fist bump.

"I'm gonna get going. See you tomorrow." He drained the last of his beer and handed her the bottle.

She took it and shook her head. "See ya."

She remained on the balcony, staring at the night as he closed the apartment door behind him. She wasn't sure how long this peace treaty would last. They may have apologized for being asses but that didn't change the fact that there was something between them.