A/N: Sorry it took me so long to do the next upload. Life kinda took over and I wasn't able to write as much as I thought. Let me know how you like this chapter!

That afternoon, Rachael tacked up Jet with her western saddle. If she was going exploring, she wanted to be able to mount from the ground. She double checked her supplies: water, snacks, emergency kit, extra lead rope… It all seems to be here. She tied a lead rope around Jet's neck and slipped his bridle on over his halter.

She didn't expect the agents to drop in for a lesson. She figured they would all be pretty sore. Just in case though, she wrote a note on the small magnetic whiteboard she had gotten earlier that day, telling the agents she was busy and unable to give them a lesson. With all that done, she led Jet out and mounted up.

As she approached the woods, Rachael checked her cell phone. No signal. Typical, Rachael snorted. Her carrier didn't have good signal in the mountains, and apparently she was close enough to be in the dead zone. She put her cell phone away, picked up her reins, and walked into the woods without looking back.

At first, there was nothing exciting. A rarely used trail wound through the normal looking woods. Granted, there was a scattering of California Redwoods, but that was the extent of exciting. Then the trail branched. Rachael stopped Jet and thought for a moment. One trail continued straight, two headed to her left, and two to her right. She gave Jet his head. He took the second left.

She picked up a trot and trotted down the path. Something flashed in the bushes to her right. Rachael halted Jet and wheeled him around to take a better look. It was a raccoon trap.

"What is a raccoon trap doing here?" Rachael wondered. She had barely got her question out when she heard a gunshot an Jet bolted. Rachael was thrown back in the saddle, but somehow managed to hold on to her reins. I'm glad I rode in a western saddle, she thought wryly as she gathered her reins and slowed Jet down. She managed to pull him up before the fork and turned him around. She patted his neck a little to calm him.

"Who's there?" She spat. No one shot at her horse! "Who's there?" she called again when she got no response. No shadows moved, no leaves rustled, no footsteps either in front or behind. Shen urged Jet up the path. They passed the raccoon trap without incident. No shouts, no yells, no more gunshots. Rachael continued down the path her horse had chosen.

A little later on, it forked again. That time, Rachael chose. They went right. She had thought she heard a stream over there. Before long, they came upon a well moving, but relatively small, stream. It was only 2 feet wide. Rachael slid off and slipped Jet's bridle off so he could drink. She also had some water. Hers though came from her Nalgene. Once she had finished, she put her Nalgene back and looked around. There weren't any good camping sites on this side of the river. She looked across. There might be a good spot over there. She slipped Jet's bridle back on, mounted, and crossed the river.

They found a trail on the far bank and followed it. Before long it led into a clearing, one that looked big enough for a camper with a horse. Rachael dismounted again and led Jet around on foot. The ground was firm, not soft, which led her to believe that the clearing wasn't in the stream's flood zone. She didn't see anything that suggested that anything lived there or had been there recently. No bones, no shot gun shells, no foot or paw prints. It was perfect.

"Well, Jet," Rachael said as she swung back on. "I think we found our camping spot. Now to see how far away it is from the barn." She then followed the trail she had found on the far side of the clearing during her exploration. It wound deeper into the woods, leading her on in her adventure.

Callen sat back in his chair. He was at his desk in the bull pen. He had nothing to do, so he came in to catch up on the endless amounts of paperwork. Now he was all caught up, and it was only 2 in the afternoon. He had no reason to go home, but no reason to stay either.

He looked over at Hetty's office. Surprised, he sat up and looked again. When had she gotten here? How had he not heard her? Callen shrugged and sat back again. He was used to Hetty's stealth. Something like this ceased to bother him for more than a few seconds now. He wanted to go talk to her, but it was difficult to walk. He's lucky he made it from his car to the door of OPS. All five steps it was.

He looked at Hetty's office again. She was gone. Where did she go?

"Hello, Mr. Callen," Hetty said suddenly from behind him. Callen nearly jumped out of his skin, and then sunk back with a groan. "My, My. Aren't we a bit sore today?" she tsked with a smile. "Now, where you perhaps looking for me a moment ago?"

Callen turned his chair so he could look at Hetty. "As a matter of fact, I was," he said, a little edge in his voice. He hated it when she hid things from him. And these lessons, he had no doubt, were heading toward such a thing. "I was—"

Callen's question got cut short by a whistle from upstairs. Eric.

"We have a case!" Eric yelled as he turned around and went back into the computer room. Callen groaned and looked at Hetty.

"We'll finish this conversation later," she said. "Right now I believe that you need to get your sore ass up there. Callen groaned, heaved himself out of his chair, and limped up the stairs.

Callen limped into the computer room. "What do you have, Eric?"

"Well, there was a—Whoa!" Eric broke off, surprised. "What happened?" He asked, shocked.

"Horseback riding," Callen dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand. "Now, what do you have?"

Eric looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he held his tongue. "Right," he said, and then briefed Callen.

"And the others?" Callen asked when Eric was done. The rest of his team was still absent.

"Not going to be able to help. Sam and Kensi are out of town, and Deeks can't move. Since this is low priority, Hetty figured you could handle it on your own." Eric's eyes narrowed as he looked at Callen, who was leaning heavily on the table-like computer in the middle of the room. "What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing," Callen said shortly. "So it's just me?"

"Yes," Eric answered.

"Okay. Send me the address. I'll call when I have something."

Later that evening, Rachael sponged down her horse after their adventure. The rest of it had been uneventful, though they had found several more clearings that they could use for camping. One of them had been super secluded, but it looked to be popular with the wildlife. There were prints all over it.

All of a sudden, Jet shook, getting Rachael soaking wet. She gasped, and then gave Jet a side-long glance. Shaking her head and laughing, she finished sponging him and gave him his dinner. While he ate, she cleaned up from their adventure. When she was putting away her saddle, she saw a scratch that hadn't been there before. It went across the left portion of the back flap. It was a bullet scratch.

No wonder Jet bolted! Rachael thought, incensed again. She resolved to tell Hetty. As soon as possible. Still seething, she finished up, put Jet out, and then bolted up the stairs to write that note to Hetty.