A CODE TO LIVE BY
by MioneAlterEgo
DISCLAIMER: What part of "no" don't you understand?
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks as always to Mel (aka imahistorian) for her expert guidance, for being the best cheering section ever, and for never judging me when I abuse the caps lock key in text messages because I'm fangirling too hard. Thanks also to EVERYONE who has read, reviewed, alerted, and favorited. I continue to be humbled by the amazing response! This week's installment was fun to write, so I hope you have fun reading it. Enjoy!
STRESS MANAGEMENT
When the power flickered and then clicked off completely, plunging the entire Mission into darkness for the second time that morning, the barely-muffled screams of rage from the Ops center could be heard in the next zip code.
"SON OF A—"
"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? IS THIS REAL LIFE?"
"And where the hell are the EFFING BACK-UP GENERATORS?"
Downstairs in the bullpen, four agents pulled out their cell phones for light and glanced anxiously across their desks at one another in the bluish glow. Eventually, Deeks broke the silence with a nervous whisper.
"Good God, was that Nell?"
Kensi nodded morosely. "She and Eric are both pretty strung-out. They've been transferring and backing-up secure files for days, trying to get them stored on the new server. The problem is, the files are huge and they're taking forever to load. So every time the power cuts out…"
"They have to start over again," Sam sighed. "Great timing for rolling black-outs."
At that moment a loud click was heard, the overhead lights flicked once, and the power died again. Two primal screams and a sound strangely like that of a heavy object being hurled against a wall were heard from upstairs.
This time Deeks shook his head in amazement. "How can someone so tiny make that much noise? She's always so quiet."
"Not always," Callen chuckled. Upon realizing the room had gone completely silent around him, he glanced up from his paperwork. His teammates stared back at him in various states of disbelief and discomfort. "What?"
"I so didn't need to know that."
"Yeah, me either," Kensi grumbled.
"Over-share, G."
"What?"
"Come on, man. She's like our little sister," Sam clarified.
"Yeah, none of us want to think about you two…" Deeks trailed off, made a vague gesture between Callen's desk and Ops, and gave an exaggerated shudder of disgust.
"Wait a second, you actually thought I was talking about—"
"Please don't finish that sentence," Kensi begged.
Callen snorted and shook his head. "You guys have filthy minds. I wouldn't tell you about that even if you asked."
"Well, none of us did," Deeks interjected. "And we never will. EVER. So can we please change the subject?"
Callen laughed loudly as the lights snapped back on and a fresh stream of swear-words drifted downstairs.
The previous weekend…
"Faster! FASTER! NO, NOT THAT WAY, YOU IDIOT! How can you-? AAAAHHH!"
Nell collapsed backwards onto her sofa, nearly overturning the bowl of popcorn sitting between them. Callen bit back a laugh and shifted his body to face her. He'd never figured Nell for a sports nut, much less the type to completely lose her cool over a football game (especially in the regular season).
"You know they can't hear you, right?"
"Can it, Mister," she growled. "I've seen you and Sam watching the Lakers, remember?"
He held his hands up in front of him in a gesture of surrender. She grumbled something under her breath before settling back against him and flicking a couple of puffs of popcorn into her mouth. Callen chuckled quietly.
"What are you laughing at?" she groused.
"You," he replied.
She cut him an unamused glare.
"I just never figured you for a football fan, much less a very vocal one."
"I grew up with brothers," she shrugged. "It was learn to love football, or watch nothing at all for a significant part of the year."
When her team's wide receiver finally barreled into the end zone three plays later, she popped up off the couch with a shout of victory.
"YES! THANK YOU! It's about time! WOOO!"
The wall behind the T.V. rattled, and a muffled "Hey!" could be heard from the apartment next door.
"Sorry, Mr. Yang," Nell called. She sheepishly sat back down on the sofa. "I'll try to keep it down."
Her promise of quiet lasted through exactly one commercial break until the opposing team managed to run back an 80-yard punt return and score, once again stealing the lead. Nell screamed a word Callen had never before heard her use and Mr. Yang from next door pounded on the adjoining wall.
It was going to be a long game. Good thing Callen had something entertaining to watch.