Title: Dangerous Liaisons
Rating: PG-13 for language and bits of violence
Category: Drama, AU
Genre: Slash
Pairing: G/Sam
Summary: A mistake from his past forces Callen to turn to his team for help. But will they want to?
Spoilers: None that come to mind. This is an AU and takes places prior to the backdoor pilot.
Disclaimer: NCIS, NCIS LA, and the characters therein do not belong to me, and no amount of wishing seems able to change that.
Warning: Discussion of depression and suicide but nothing graphic or detailed.
A/N: I've played fast and loose with a few things here, most notably geography, technology and the timelines of the two shows. Also, I probably murdered criminal procedure but good. But this, all 30,000+ words of it, is more about the characters than the plot so hopefully you can forgive. There is a lot of talking and thinking in this story. Also, even though it's G/Sam, the MCs are really G and Nate.
A/N 2: Please note that this story takes place prior to last season. Gibbs is in Mexico, Dom is not around, Sheperd is Director, and Macy will pop in. I'm probably a little off with Hetty being around, but the show doesn't seem able to make up its mind about when she came into the picture anyway. G says three years, Hetty calls Macy her predecessor, whatever...
-7-
G spent the next two days trying to avoid both Sam and Nate—easier said than done on Nate's count, and all too easy on Sam's. He couldn't blame his partner for not wanting to end up with a black eye to go along with his bruised jaw.
More difficult to avoid than even Nate, and that was saying something, were the looks from Kensi and Eric. Both of them seemed to be giving him a wide berth, accompanied on all accounts by pitying expressions. It made him want to jump out a window—a thought he kept firmly inside his own head, lest Nate get any ideas.
"Addressed to Special Agent Callen. My, he really is enjoying this, contacting you here."
Callen accepted the plain white envelope from Hetty. "He knows we're trying to catch him."
"Are you?"
He looked down at her, startled. "Of course I am."
"You know he won't keep silent once you do."
"I know."
Hetty looked troubled, though she held his gaze. "If there is anything any of us can do—"
Callen shook his head. "I brought this on myself and, for what it's worth, it's worth the consequences. I'm just sorry it's come to this." His stomach twisted. "None of you should have to deal with it."
"In a time of crisis, personal or national, family and friends bond together in support of each other. While I admit your colleagues are in a somewhat precarious situation given the likely nature of your transgressions—and please forgive me if I'm mistaken—"
He couldn't be sure—he was rarely sure of anything where Hetty was concerned—but he thought she was alluding to the fact that one of them, most likely Sam, would be arresting him when all was said and done. "You aren't." No point in lying; he'd already told Sam as much anyway.
"As I was saying, the situation is unfortunate but even were that not the case, we would still be dealing with it. Like it or not, Mr. Callen, you've found a family here. And you'd probably serve yourself better by welcoming the help than pushing it away."
"It's better for them if they don't get involved."
f"You're involved. They're involved." She patted him on the arm before leaving him alone. He watched her go for a moment before retreating to his own desk to open the letter.
Special Agent Callen:
Leave the disk in the top locker, third from the left, in the men's locker room at Equinox Fitness on Wilshire by thirteen hundred hours, but no later than noon, on Thursday. You'll hear from me again once I've verified the data is accurate.
Sam was right, which meant they had to catch this guy when he went to get the disk. As soon as he found out it was faked, any chance of controlling the situation would go out the window.
He was screwed either way, but he didn't really want to make a public spectacle of himself if he could avoid it. If this son of a bitch wanted to contact the President, fine. He just didn't want to see it on the evening news.
He found Eric hammering away at his keyboard upstairs, headphones on and music so loud G could hear it from across the room. Eric almost jumped out of his skin when G tapped him on the shoulder. "See what you can do for surveillance." He left the note with Eric and went to find Sam to tell him what was going on.
G found his partner beating the hell out of a heavy bag in the weight room. He hung in the doorway for a second, trying to hold onto his composure. Sweat dripped down the back of Sam's neck to his already soaked t-shirt. He danced around the bag, sharp blows making it swing wildly away and back towards him, almost like an opponent lunging in to strike. G could hold his own even before he met Sam, and his partner had taught him a thing or two in their time working together, but he didn't have anything on him.
"You gonna stand there and check out my ass all day or get your hands dirty?"
G started, his pulse starting to race at Sam's jab, unintentionally so close to the mark it hurt. He should have been glad Sam was making an effort at normalizing things between them but it was all he could do to keep the cringing to the inside. "Eric's trying to set up surveillance for the drop. Tomorrow at noon."
Sam headed toward him, sweat-drenched shirt clinging to his chest. G leaned against the doorframe, trying to appear nonchalant. He wasn't kidding anyone; he'd been wound tighter than a spring since the guy had first made contact and Sam's presence wasn't helping matters.
Especially not like this.
"Where?"
"Equinox on Wilshire."
"Locker room?" Sam grabbed his towel from the floor and slung it around his neck, holding tightly to both ends. He still kept an uncomfortable distance between them, for which G was actually grateful this time, but at least he was looking directly at him instead of anywhere and everywhere else.
"Yeah."
"They're not gonna let us put in cameras."
"Eric'll work something out to satisfy them. I'm gonna head there, after this, to check the place out."
"You do that."
G waited for the reminder to wear a vest but it didn't come. "Thought I'd let you know."
"Thanks." Sam worked his jaw, twice opening his mouth like he planned to say something only to close it again in silence. Finally he did speak. "You're my partner, G. Never left me cold like this."
G took a step back as Sam moved toward him. "It's for your own good."
"Let me worry about my own good."
He needed to get out of there. "You can't save everybody, Sam. Least of all me."
"Maybe if you'd let me."
"Sam, I would love to. I wish you could." He looked past his partner to the still-swaying bag. He wished to God there was a way out of this, some way that wouldn't end with Sam looking at him like he did the people they arrested in every day, but there wasn't. "You can't." He turned to go but Sam caught up to him before he could round the corner. Sam jerked him back around, all but pinning him to the wall, and G fought the urge to fight him off.
"Whatever you did, G, you're my partner. Let me know when you remember what that means." Sam released him and G didn't take the time to try to decipher the look he saw in Sam's eyes before he took off down the corridor as fast as he could without actually running.
