Faces
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 02x07 - Anonymous
Author's Notes: My apologies for the slowness of my output. I hope to be a little quicker now. This episode didn't really give me much to go on. Le sigh. I've provided an episode summary at the end for those who may be fuzzy on it. It's been a while since it aired! Many thanks to the ever helpful vegarin, she makes my fic readable. ;)
Callen shakes his head as he makes his way towards wardrobe. He can still hear Deeks pleading with Hetty, practically begging her to let them go out for drinks wearing the nice suits.
To be honest, Callen's kind of glad. He's never liked tuxedos; the bow tie is just a smidgen too tight. It felt even tighter, earlier, when he'd been fighting off one of the terrorists. Funny how adrenaline and exertion did that to a person.
But, he hadn't dared loosen the tie—or removed it—when he was in the field. A little discomfort was nothing compared to what might have happened to him had he lost the black cloth.
A movement catches his eye and he slows as he's passing the bullpen area.
"You coming, G?"
Callen waves his partner off. "In a minute."
He walks towards the downstairs terminals and he finds Nell staring intently at the plasma TV. Except it's off. Callen pauses, brow furrowing in confusion.
"Nell?"
"Holy—!" Nell whirls around, one hand clutching at her chest. "A-Agent Callen! You startled me."
He can't help but smirk. "Sorry." Callen walks towards the young woman, hands in his pockets. He gestures at the TV with his chin. "You know that's off, right?"
"I'm aware," Nell says, giving him an exasperated look.
Callen's smirk turns into a grin. "So what are you looking at?"
Nell's eyes flick to the TV and then to the floor. Curious, he steps forward, glancing at the shiny screen, wondering if there is something to see other than his reflection.
"I was just wondering," Nell begins. She opens her mouth as if to say more, but nothing else comes.
"About?" he prods.
"Those men. The lengths they went through to change their faces."
"I don't follow..."
Nell sighs. "It's hard to explain. I mean, this is Los Angeles. Cosmetic surgeons are a dime a dozen and people change their features on a whim for no reason. These men, they had a reason. It was an insidious one, but it just makes me wonder what drives people to make those kinds of changes to their physical being."
"What can I say, people are strange," Callen muses. "Terrorists are no different just motivated differently."
Nell snorts. "That's one way of putting it."
He steps closer so he's standing right next to her. "But you still haven't answered the question."
"Hmm? Oh. Well." Nell hedges, scratching at the back of her head. "It's silly, but I was thinking about whether or not I could make a decision to change myself so much and, well, what I would change."
At this point, Nell looks back at the TV and pokes at her cheek with a finger.
Callen observes her for a moment and then leans down, his head beside hers, and watches her via their reflection. It takes a moment before she realizes he's staring and she meets his gaze on the TV surface.
"I wouldn't change a thing."
Nell whips her head around to face him, mouth gaping. Callen, watching her reaction via reflection, smirks before turning to face her.
And then he's the one taken by surprise because eye-level is a lot closer than he thought it was. Callen's staring directly into her hazel eyes and for a moment, he forgets, well, everything.
"I, uh, thanks?"
Nell's voice snaps him back to the present and he straightens up, blinking rapidly. He automatically transitions into a nonchalant stance to cover up the awkwardness of the moment. It works. Mostly.
"Nice tuxedo, by the way."
Nell's picking at the fabric of her dress, clearly nervous. Callen tries to give her a reassuring smile, but she's not actually looking at him so that doesn't really work. Clearly, their conversation is quickly heading to no-man's land and Callen doesn't really know how it got there or where it was going in the first place.
"Speaking of, I should get this back to wardrobe before Hetty starts charging me for the loaner."
Callen reaches up to tug at the bow tie, now acutely aware of how snug it is, and frowns. There isn't nearly as much give as there should be. He turns to the TV, trying to see just exactly how he tied it in the first place.
"Erm, something wrong, Agent Callen?"
"Nothing I can't handle. Apparently I did too good of a job tying this bow tie."
Callen's so preoccupied fumbling with the backwards reflection on the screen that he doesn't even notice when Nell steps right up to him until he feels her batting his hands away.
"Here, let me."
Not that he can stop her at that point.
Callen goes utterly still, hands dropping loosely by his sides, and watches with a strange, detached curiosity as Nell attempts to un-knot the fabric. At one point, she tugs him down closer to her level, muttering something about being too short or him too tall—or both—and he can't help but marvel at her stubbornness. He's also mildly concerned for his well-being. Callen's pretty sure she's not going to let a bow tie beat her, no matter the cost.
"Ah ha!"
The pressure around his neck suddenly lessens and Callen feels the tie slip from around his neck. Nell presents it to him with a flourish and a smile.
"Thanks," he says, plucking the bow tie from her hands.
"Anytime," Nell replies. "It's getting late. I'll, uh, see you later, then."
"Good night, Nell."
"Good night."
Callen frowns as he watches her pretty much flee the building. He purses his lips as he looks at his reflection on the plasma TV surface, glances at the unfurled bow tie in his hand, and then in the direction Nell went.
"That was weird."
Nell doesn't slow down until she reaches her car and only does so because she has to actually get in it. Once seated, she doesn't turn the ignition, but instead leans her forehead on the steering wheel, exhaling loudly.
The whole exchange she just had with Callen had been very awkward. For some reason, he seemed to be able to catch her in her unguarded moments when she thinks no one else is around. First it was the balloon thing after Hetty's birthday surprise, then it was her nearly freaking out over those boys burying a girl alive, and then the whole situation with his sort of maybe kind of fake ex-wife.
Nell's not really sure why she left so quickly—okay, practically ran from him, if she's completely honest with herself. They were having a perfectly fine, if a little strange, conversation and then it just disintegrated into something else entirely.
She shakes her head as if it will help clear her thoughts.
"That was really weird."
Determined not to think anymore about it, Nell starts her car and makes her way home. Except she can't quite get rid of the image of a certain special agent in a very well fitting tuxedo from her mind. Nor can she forget the feel of her fingers brushing against his skin as she worked at the bow tie knot. And she can't help but wish she could have held onto the little thrill that jolted through her when they were looking right at each other, faces mere inches apart.
End Part
Episode Summary
A cosmetic surgery nurse, Jillian, knows the new faces of 4 Mogadishu-based terrorists who had extensive facial reconstructive surgery from her husband, the doctor. Her husband and their friend at the State Department, whom she tries to deliver pictures of the men to, are both killed. The terrorists are attempting to kill people on a docked boat, the Queen Mary, with sarin gas. There's an event going on with many political figures and celebrities attending. Things that happen: Kensi beats Sam in simulated knife fighting; Kensi/Deeks go to the Malibu Medi-Spa to find Jillian where Deeks ends up getting pepper sprayed; one of the terrorists jumps off a building rather than being caught; Nell and Eric disagree on how to decipher a string of letters and numbers, eventually figuring it out by their powers combined; the team gets to dress up and attend the party on the ship where they save the day; Hetty makes the guys return their wardrobe when it becomes clear they're headed out to take advantage of how good they look.
