The shopping mall had proven to be a waste of over three hours of Sam and Callen's precious time. The multi-story car park could house up to three thousand cars and two hundred motorbikes. On that particular day it was three quarters full and the CCTV cameras were out of order; they had been for three days. Sam and Callen had manually scoured the ten floors and found forty bikes that matched the year, manufacturer and colour of the one seen at Joelle's house. Each bike had a licence plate though and all the details were passed to Eric to cross refer with the owner.

"Well that was fun," Callen said sarcastically as he climbed into the Challenger.

"Yeah, more leads to follow up once Eric has completed his checks," Sam replied.

He started the engine and drove out of the car park and onto the busy street. The two sat in silence for a while; Callen stared out of the passenger window while Sam concentrated on the rush-hour traffic.

"So what are you going to tell Joelle?" Sam asked directly.

"I have no idea," Callen replied honestly, continuing to gaze out of the window.

"Do you really believe Janvier knows all about her?"

"Yes Sam I do," Callen turned to face his partner. "Janvier told me he knows where I live, where I work and who I care about. He will keep his word and destroy everything around me until he can kill me."

"He's already failed to kill me," Sam replied to keep a positive perspective.

"But you're a SEAL and a trained NCIS Agent. Joelle is a kindergarten teacher. Nell is an Analyst with basic field training and Eric is a Tech Operator who hates guns unless it's a video game. Deeks has already been targeted by proxy and he's still suffering."

"Deeks is OK. He's come through OK," Sam repeated as though to reassure himself.

"Deeks is not OK, even less so now Kensi's gone," Callen's pessimism prevailed. "He's being Deeks, covering his pain with jokes. I'll bet you anything he still has nightmares."

"Is that why you don't sleep?" Sam asked with a quick glance at his partner.

Callen pursed his lips and remained silent. His insomnia was due to a variety of reasons; although most of them probably stemmed from one type of emotional and physical trauma or another.

"Let's see if the Wonder Twins have found anything further," Callen removed his cell from his jacket pocket and dialled Ops.

Five minutes later and the two agents were shaking their heads in despair. The multitude of leads from the car park had evaporated. Every single bike and owner had been accounted for and each had a watertight alibi. Whittling down and tracing the known associates from Janvier's fellow inmates Skinner and Sanchez was proving a time-consuming and frustrating activity, with little luck so far. And CCTV footage of Callen's would-be shooter had returned zero results. It was as though the shooter had disappeared in to thin air. LAPD had been drafted in to conduct searches of the neighbouring homes and gardens. But again, the results had been negative.

A further ten minutes sitting in the late afternoon traffic saw the pair receive a dismissive phone call from Hetty. Nell and Eric were staying on for another hour, but she advised Sam and Callen to go home, get some rest and return to the mission at 06:00 hours the next day.

"You gonna call Joelle?" Sam asked as he pulled up outside Callen's house.

Callen sighed thinking Sam was more concerned about his what...girlfriend? Lover? Female friend?...than he was about what this was doing to Callen himself. He thought that Sam of all people would be a little more tuned in to him.

Instead of replying, Callen invited Sam in for a beer. It was an offer that Sam rejected instantly, citing a need to get home as his daughter had a dance show. Failure to attend would incur the wrath of Michelle, which was not a risk he was willing to take. Callen had nodded his head in silent understanding – at least that was the lie his eyes told. Inside he wanted to scream that he needed company, advice, someone to joke with and annoy; anything to avoid thinking about the day, about Janvier and about Joelle. He might enjoy his own company but right now he felt very much alone.

Sam revved the Challenger's engine and waved a hand in Callen's direction as he drove away. Callen responded in kind, holding his hand up to say 'see you later'. He unlocked his front door and walked to the solitary chair in the living room, easing himself down and resting his head back. He stared at the ceiling, quickly lost in thought.

The 'it's not you it's me,' 'my work is stopping me from committing to us,' and the 'I'm sorry but this was only a bit of fun, I enjoy my freedom' lines were running through Callen's mind. It would be easier all round if he just ended his relationship with Joelle; there'd be less long term heart ache for both of them.

He'd broken up with women before without too much of an issue but this was different. He actually enjoyed Joelle's company; she was smart, funny, attractive and sexy – but most importantly there was no pressure from her to commit to anything more than they currently had; whatever that may be. Sure, they'd gone out to dinner, spent a few evenings together – even a few nights – but they were relaxed and casual. Joelle enjoyed being single as much as he did which made lying to her about why he was breaking off their 'non-relationship' even more difficult.

In addition to the words, he considered the methods. Text; no chance, Sam would carry out his threat to demonstrate how to murder him using his exceptionally strong legs. The same went for email. That left calling her, which was easier than a face to face explanation. Damn, Callen thought, the only real option he had was to see her, look her in the eyes and lie. Break any and all attachments. Give Janvier no reason to target anyone that wasn't an agent. At least his team had a chance to protect themselves - Joelle or any woman he became involved with was an innocent. Callen again seriously doubted that he was destined to ever settle down and have a family.

Keeping people at arm's length kept them safe and protected him from being hurt. It was his mantra and it had served him well for most of his life. Those that had crept under his radar had only caused him pain. Tracey Keller was the prime example, and five years later Kirstin Donnelly had completed him, in his most comfortable undercover role yet. He had readily admitted to himself that he'd been the one to cause her pain but he had suffered as well. He regretted the web of deceit he had spun and had so desperately wished her son was his. It had taken all his courage just to ask her who the father was and the answer had been like a kick in the guts. No, Callen thought, he was never meant to have a family. His whole upbringing and career screamed that to him. Callen closed his eyes and sighed loudly. Decision made, he opened his eyes and stood up. Grabbing his cell he speed-dialled Joelle to arrange his final date with her.

The next morning Sam arrived early to hit the gym and work out a few of the creases he'd acquired from an awkward night's sleep. He climbed the stairs and came to a halt as he saw Callen asleep on the bench press. Sam approached quietly and stood in front of him. Even in his sleep Callen looked troubled. This latest psychological battle with Janvier was tiring him out. Hell it was tiring them all out. Sam went to move to the lockers when he heard a clinking noise. His foot connected with several beer bottles which had been carefully placed by the legs of the bench press. Callen opened his eyes a slither and remained horizontal.

"Will you be quiet, I'm trying to get some shut eye," he said through the fog of sleep.

"Looks more like you're sleeping off a hangover," Sam retorted. "What's wrong with sleeping on your own floor or in Joelle's bed?"

Callen quickly moved into a sitting position, the sudden motion causing his head to spin a little. He carefully placed his head in his hands. He'd had more than the few beers the remaining bottles suggested and he exhaled slowly to steady himself.

"Just leave it Sam," he said quietly, easing himself gently in to a standing position opposite his partner.

"Kicked you out did she?" Sam had a smile on his face although he was concerned about the state in which he had found Callen and he looked at him in curiosity. Something had happened, but he hadn't heard from either Michelle or Joelle that there was trouble in paradise.

"I said leave it," Callen raised his voice and took a pace forward, squaring up to Sam.

The two stood face to face in silence before Sam looked away, giving Callen the opportunity to turn his back on his partner and walk towards the showers. Sam watched Callen walk away; his shoulders hung low and his gait was slightly unsteady. He had seen Callen block him out before and it was always for personal reasons. He pulled out his cell and sent a quick text to Michelle. From Callen's reaction to his light-hearted question about Joelle, he would lay money that she was the reason he'd drank himself to sleep in the gym. Sam bent down and picked up the empty bottles, quietly placing them in the trash before Hetty found them. He grabbed a can of deodorant from his bag and sprayed it liberally to mask the lingering smell of stale alcohol before reluctantly starting his work out.

Forty minutes later the team were gathered in the ops centre, summarising the activities and results of the previous day's investigations. The chemical analysis on the dart which had been shot at Callen revealed nothing. The dart had not been dipped in any poison or laced with any drugs. Video footage, audio clips from Janvier's calls and lists of Sanchez & Skinner's associates were swept onto the main screen. Short lists were made and addresses sent to Sam and Callen's smart phones. Nell and Deeks were also paired for the day to ensure more suspects could be targeted. Before the pairs embarked on day two of the case, the safety of the immediate team had to be comprehensively reviewed, and Hetty had requested Eric monitor the location of Joelle.

At the mention of her name, Sam gave a sly glance in Callen's direction. The younger man continued to concentrate on the screen in front of him and Sam noticed that all traces of his earlier hangover had disappeared. His eyes were now a bright vibrant blue in the artificial light of the operations centre. He seemed alert and keen to get out on to the streets of LA. The only difference in his behaviour was the lack of eye contact between them.

Without looking at his friends and colleagues, Callen commented that Joelle had planned to take a week long break and would be heading north to San Francisco to stay with her mother. Her cell phone's GPS locater placed her at LAX and a check on the internal flight manifests had her on the midday flight.

Sam and Callen had two suspects on their list for the morning. They were both connected to Janvier's fellow inmate Bobby Skinner, and lived within a five mile radius of Compton. The drive in the early morning sun should have been relaxing, but both men felt the tension between them.

"So what's going on G?" Sam stopped at a red light and turned to face Callen.

"Nothing's going on," Callen responded, meeting Sam's stare.

"No, if nothing was going on I wouldn't have found you sleeping off last night's alcohol in the gym,"

"It was a tough day, that was all," Callen shrugged.

"We've had tougher," Sam persisted.

"I had a few beers and realised I wouldn't be safe to drive home,"

"But I left you at home yesterday evening. Where did you go?"

"I went out for some food and thought I'd go back to ops and work the case some more," Callen was being somewhat economical with the truth but it sounded plausible.

"Huh," Sam replied. He was not convinced that Callen was telling the truth. Michelle had not managed to get hold of Joelle and Sam only had his gut instinct to go on. Well that and the fact he knew damn well when his partner was holding out on him.

The lights changed and Sam pulled away in to the increasingly heavy rush hour traffic. They rolled along at a snail's pace in silence for several minutes. Sam glanced across at Callen again, who was scrolling through his cell. They weren't going anywhere so he finally gave in.

"Ok, what happened last night with Joelle," Sam asked directly.

Callen looked up suddenly, for a split second his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly. Bingo, Sam thought. He'd hit the nail on the head and Callen had briefly looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, before he schooled his face into an impassive expression.

"Nothing happened,"

"You'd better tell me now. I'll only find out later, you know that G,"

Callen was not going to have this conversation with Sam. He knew Sam would soon find out he ditched Joelle but at least she was on her way to safety. After driving round the streets for several hours the previous night Callen had eventually returned to ops and reviewed Janvier's connections. One name had stood out; Skinner's associate Clint Patterson. Callen had come across him several times in his past life, once in his late teens and again about twelve years ago. The case was becoming more and more personal but there was nothing official that connected Callen and Patterson, however it risked past secrets being revealed...

Turning his thoughts back to his current predicament, Callen considered his options with Sam; ignore, lie or ditch him. Ignoring Sam would be problematic as they had two suspects to find and interrogate. Lying? Well Sam usually saw straight through Callen's lie. Callen closed his eyes for a second. Ditching Sam was the only option to save him from facing the truth and maybe save the lives of his team.

"Look Sam, there's a diner about a mile along. Can we stop there and grab a bite? I'm feeling a bit..." Callen felt a little guilty as he played on the nurturing side of Sam's character. "...I just need something to line my stomach."

Sam looked over at Callen, who admittedly seemed rather pale. Maybe this was the first step in encouraging him to open up. "Sure G," He responded, hoping that a bit of breakfast would sort his partner out. Much though he loved Callen like a brother, if he threw up in his precious Challenger, Sam would rip his head off in an instance.

A mile down the road a strip of shops materialised on the right; an old fifties style diner took residence at the far corner. The light blue paint was flaking and the windows needed a scrub; perfectly in keeping with the unkempt look of the neighbouring properties. The pair walked in and quickly occupied a corner booth, giving them equal coverage of the front entrance and rear exit to the restrooms. Their positioning was more from force of habit than from any sense of risk; they were the only two patrons at a time when the diner should have been heaving.

Sam ordered two coffees from the waitress and leaned back on to the thin plastic covered cushion.

"You really know where all the classiest joints are,"

"Years of exploring the city," Callen retorted. He pulled out his cell and started fiddling with it, twisting it round and round in his hands.

"G, stop that. You're getting just the same as Deeks, unable to sit still without playing with something,"

"I am nothing like Deeks," Callen said indignantly.

"Yeah, come to think of it, he's mad, you're just plain crazy," Sam smiled affectionately, believing he had correctly summarised the personalities of his two male teammates.

Callen raised his eyebrows but remained silent. He deliberately placed his phone in front of him and refrained from drumming his fingers on the table.

"I need the restroom," Callen stood and walked to the back of the diner. Looking over his shoulder he raised his voice. "Can you order me some eggs and bacon?"

Sam's smile widened and he shook his head. If his errant partner didn't end up dying in the line of duty, his heart and arteries would just give up with the amount of junk food he consumed.

Five minutes later and Sam found himself drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. A little drum beat to accompany the tune that was running through his head. He again looked towards the restrooms and a frown creased his brow. Maybe G was sicker than he was letting on, Sam thought. He signalled to the waitress to wait as he went to see what was keeping him. The door at the rear opened into a small foyer with male and female restrooms to the right. Sam entered the men's and knocked on the single cubicle which was shut.

"G, you OK?" Sam knocked several more times and a sinking feeling came over him. The outcome was going to be bad whichever way, he thought. Either Callen had collapsed or he had given him the slip. Sam placed his shoulder against the door and leaned away before moving forward with all his weight. The lock easily gave way and the door swung open to reveal an empty cubicle. Sam quickly moved back to the foyer and tried the handle that led to the diner's back yard. The unlocked door opened on to an expanse of concrete that housed several parked vehicles. An alley way led to the backstreets beyond and Sam stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips. If they were lucky Callen may have been caught on camera exiting the diner but after that...

He returned to the table and grabbed Callen's smart phone, mad at himself for not having read the signs. He peeled off a few bills to cover the coffee and left the diner. Callen was off the grid and once again he was left to deliver the bad news to Hetty.

A/N - thank you all for your reviews and comments so far, they are all appreciated. Remember there's a prize for reviewing as well as writing, so please continue to review & comment on my story AND all the other entries, thanks.

And yes, there is more Callen to come, no romance & some action! But I doubt this will be before the weekend...