AN: I'm still having so much fun with this story and I truly appreciate all the feedback!
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"Nell!" Deeks shouted, for the third time.
She ignored him. For the third time.
"Don't make me come looking for you," he yelled, as she groaned and reluctantly rolled off her bed. She made her way to the hallway, automatically looking over the balcony railing. No one was down below in the foyer, or anywhere else in sight, for that matter.
"Nell, stop ignoring –" Deeks appeared in the doorway of his room and paused when he spotted her. "There you are. Didn't you hear me calling?"
"Of course I did. Couldn't you tell by the way I didn't respond?"
He brandished a playing card at her threateningly (or as threatening as a card could be). "Why was this in the pocket of my evening robe?"
"You have an evening robe?" Sam asked, their voices having drawn him into the hallway. "Deeks, you're not 85, why do you continually act like you are?"
"You think this is bad?" Kensi asked, as she came down the hallway. "He has four different kinds of robes."
Sam frowned at him. "Why do you… Know what, never mind. I just realized I don't actually care about the answer." He returned to his room without waiting for a response.
"Why does everyone think it's weird?" Deeks complained.
"Because it is weird," Nell told him succinctly, "and what do you mean by 'everyone'? Do you often go around telling people about all your robes?"
"You'd be surprised," Kensi said, and then seemed to think about it. "Or, considering that you've known him as long as I have, maybe you wouldn't."
Deeks acted like they weren't discussing his odd tendencies as he turned back to Nell. "I have one for morning, one for evening, one for after showering, and one for when I need something more…sensual." He winked at Nell. "That last one's for special occasions."
"Oh, how lucky are the women in your life," Nell said, as Kensi tried to hide her laughter by going into his (their?) room.
"You know it, Nell." Deeks sent her what she presumed was supposed to be a knowing look. "I can see the wheels turning in your head as you realize exactly what you missed out on over here."
"You're referring to yourself, right?"
He ignored her joke. "I have to say, I'm glad that you've moved on."
"Have I?" she asked, archly.
He wouldn't be baited. "Where's your other half right now? It's strange for me to see you without him."
"Maybe I want to spend time with you…alone." She pressed her hands onto the railing and leaned forward. "I just can't get enough of that robe."
"You think you're funny?" Deeks tossed the playing card across the balcony to her, but it fell much too short and they both watched it flutter to a stop on the staircase down below.
Nell considered his lack of reaction to what she'd done in his room. "Wait, are you only mad about that one card?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Deeks," Kensi's voice rang out, "why are there playing cards all over the place? Is this some kind of joke?"
His eyes didn't leave Nell as he demanded, "How many?"
Nell shrugged, going for innocent. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
Kensi returned to the doorway, hands full of playing cards. "They're everywhere!" she exclaimed, promptly tossing them all into the air before spinning around and reentering the bedroom.
Deeks stood unmoving as the cards fluttered to the floor around his feet. "Nell, do you have any idea how long it's going to take Kensi to clean all of this up? Five, six minutes, at least!"
"I'm not your maid," Kensi called loudly.
"It wasn't me," Nell tried.
Deeks pointed at her. "Don't you dare say it was ghosts."
"I wasn't going to," she lied, inwardly cursing, because that was her go-to excuse this weekend. For everything. "Uh...it was Callen."
"I can hear you," Callen yelled from his room. "And you're a liar."
Nell found his interruption patently unfair. "You're not even out here!" she shouted. "Therefore, you're not a part of this conversation."
Callen instantly appeared in his own doorway. "What's that about not being out here?"
"That wasn't an invitation," she complained.
"Well, well, well." Deeks was smirking at them. "Callen isn't defending you, Nell…I never thought I'd see the day."
"Am I allowed to talk now?" Callen asked, sardonically. "You know, since I'm out in the hall."
Seriously, how was she supposed to stay irritated with him when he just…amused her so much?
"Deeks, it wasn't me who put the cards in your room," Callen continued, easily selling her out. "It was Nell. I watched her do it."
Oh right, that was how she stayed irritated.
"Callen didn't stop me," Nell quickly pointed out, wondering if that counted as any sort of defense. "That makes him equally as culpable. Forget being a witness – he was basically an accomplice!" Yeah, she liked that last description much better.
"How so?" Deeks asked, rightly skeptical.
Nell thought back, considering. Mostly, Callen had stood in the doorway and made (what he considered witty) comments about how Deeks would react upon finding over 100 cards in random places around his room. That in itself wasn't so bad, but…
"He gave me suggestions! Like inside the pillowcases."
"I said no such thing," Callen protested.
Kensi returned to the hallway and wordlessly shook out one of the pillows. A half dozen cards fell out of the case and she turned on her heel and retreated.
"Fine, so I suggested a few places," Callen relented. "I had to help her. I mean, her suggestions weren't half as clever as mine."
"Why is there a playing card in every one of my socks?" Kensi yelled.
"You're welcome," Callen called.
"By the way," Nell told Deeks, slowly, "you might want to check your car before driving home."
"Nelllll," Deeks sounded much too close to whining.
"Just think of it this way – every card you find is a reminder of how much I love you."
"I've never heard a worse excuse for trying to get out of the consequences of a prank," Deeks informed her, though he was clearly holding back a smile.
"Is it working?"
Deeks actually started laughing as he came over to put his arm around her shoulders in a sideways hug. "Alright, Nell. You're forgiven." He sobered immediately upon turning to Callen. "You, though – watch yourself."
"I'm somehow the bad guy now?" Callen threw his hands up in exasperation. "How is that fair?"
"Why didn't you stop her?" Deeks asked, in lieu of an answer.
Callen expected Nell to protest that, but all she did was watch him with the same questioning look that was on Deeks' face. "I don't know, Deeks. Maybe I have better things to do than police this team."
"Since when!" Deeks accused.
Callen wondered how Nell had flipped things around so quickly that Deeks had instantly forgiven her – and now, reminiscent of the card game earlier, it was once again his fault for something she'd done. "I didn't want to be pushed out a window," he finally told Deeks.
"That's not even close to what I said," Nell insisted – she'd actually told Callen that if he even tried to stop her or alert Deeks too soon, she'd lock him in the basement so he could get a taste of what she'd gone through the night before. But even so, it wasn't like her threat had forced him to give her suggestions on where to hide the cards.
(Deeks might have been quick to accuse Callen of taking Nell's side, but Callen wondered if the detective ever noticed that he was equally as guilty of always backing Nell.)
"You're her boss," Deeks was arguing. "You could have told her she'd be disciplined for harassing her colleagues. It's been over five years – you should be able to control her by now!"
Callen had a half-second to smugly think that Deeks had gone too far before Nell spoke and shattered his expectations completely.
"Yeah, Callen," she said, affecting a tone of (incredibly fake, to Callen's mind) innocence. "You should be able to control me. By now."
"I would love to see the day someone controls you," Callen said, and when Nell couldn't help breaking out into a grin at that, Deeks finally seemed to get a clue.
"Wait, Jones, you're playing me?" Deeks quickly stepped away from her. "Once again, I've been betrayed!"
"It's not my fault you make it so easy," she told him.
Deeks just shook his head at her. "I'll leave you to deal with this traitor, Callen," he sniped, retreating to his room and kicking the door shut behind him.
"If you could please refrain from slamming the doors," Davis scolded, appearing in the hallway on the other side of the balcony as if he'd come from thin air. Nell had to twist away from him so that he wouldn't see her laughing at his chastisement. (She was just glad Sam wasn't there to accuse him of using secret passageways.)
Deeks must have heard Davis, since he reopened his bedroom door. "I'm so sorry, I'll tell Kensi not to slam the door anymore."
"You'll what?!" Kensi shouted.
"She doesn't know her own strength," Deeks added, as Davis glowered at him. He slowly shut his bedroom door without a sound, so as to avoid incurring more of the other man's wrath.
Davis continued on around the balcony, stopping next to Callen and Nell. (That couldn't be a good sign.) He stared at them a little too long before speaking. "I got a call from the owners today. I've been told to inform you that what happened last night will never happen again, you have our complete assurance. And I'm…personally apologizing." The words obviously pained him.
Nell was about to thank him when, to her surprise, Callen spoke first. "You can tell them that we don't know if that's good enough."
Davis seemed at a loss – and for the first time that Nell had seen, somewhat nervous. "We, uh…again…I apologize for it."
"Really," Nell said, "it's fine. I'm fine."
"What if you weren't?" Callen insisted, turning to her. "What if you'd been stuck in the basement all night? What if no one had noticed you were missing?" His voice was rising. "What if something happened to you?"
"Nothing did," she tried to remind him, but he wasn't really listening to her.
"That's not good enough!" Callen bit out, turning back to Davis. "It's – it's not enough."
"We can probably comp you for the weekend?" Davis suggested. "All of you?"
The conversation only seemed to make Callen angrier the longer it went on. "Oh yeah, that makes up for the danger that your negligence put her in. Money solves everything!"
"Well, it usually does," Davis said, a bit sharply. Nell was becoming more and more convinced that they were the most despised group of guests he'd ever had – and they'd only been there for around 27 hours. (What a record to hold.)
And that was when it occurred to her that technically, they'd only been there for a day. Maybe she had to reevaluate some things. It certainly felt like a year…
"Davis, you can go," Nell told him, and he seized the chance to quickly leave, despite Callen's continued protests.
With the other man gone, Callen spun to face her. "Nell, what are you doing?"
She took a step closer to him. "I'm trying to get you to understand that I'm okay. And that you're not actually angry at Davis."
"Yes," he said, bitterly, "I am angry at him."
"Okay, you are," she relented, "but that's not what you're really upset about. You're upset that I might have been hurt."
"I'm not upset, Nell." He took a breath and looked at her like he was willing her to understand. "I'm furious."
She took another step and looked up at him – if she got any closer, they'd be touching. "Not everything is your responsibility, Callen."
"Yes, it is. You are. You all are."
"I understand that, but if what happened to me had happened to Sam or Deeks or even Kensi, would you be a fraction this upset? Or would you be laughing it off with them?"
The look on his face was answer enough and Nell's heart sank. "You see me as…weaker than them. Not as able to –"
"No," he interrupted. "No, Nell. Never."
"Then what is it?"
"It's different. You're different!"
"Why?" she persisted.
How do you not know why? he wanted to scream at her. And maybe, he thought, he should just tell her, because it was getting more and more difficult to –
"Hey guys," Deeks interrupted, opening his door and peering out cautiously before coming into the hall again. "Is Davis gone?"
"Yeah, he's gone," Nell said, before turning back to Callen. "Don't think we're done here."
"We might never be done," he warned, as she shot him a questioning look, trying to decide where on the scale of serious vs. teasing that line had fallen.
"Not done with what?" Deeks interrupted, glancing between them.
"Harassing you, Deeks," she said, flippantly.
"I'm going to get back at you for this," Deeks warned, flinging another handful of cards in her direction, in case she forgot what he was referring to.
"It's late and I'm tired," Nell informed him. "Save your complaints for the morning."
"The sun's barely gone down," Callen said, eyeing her. "I think you should see a doctor when we get home. There's something wrong with you."
"So many things," Deeks agreed, smugly, like he thought Callen had made a hilarious joke.
"Don't worry," Nell told them, "I made an appointment with a therapist just to deal with this weekend."
"Can you bring some of our co-workers?" Callen asked, nodding toward Deeks.
"I don't need a therapist," Deeks insisted, as his teammates tried not to laugh.
"He needs a lot more than that," Kensi called from the bedroom.
"That, right there?" Deeks tipped his head toward his room. "That's called deflection and she's a pro at it."
He went back to his room and they could hear him bickering with Kensi all the while. No sooner had he gone inside than Eric emerged from his own room, right next door, eyes wild and expression borderline distraught.
He instantly narrowed his focus on Callen and Nell, face paler than normal – and he was usually white enough to literally pass as a ghost. "I'm glad you're out here," he told them. "I wanted to let you know, before I mysteriously die in the night, that this house is haunted."
He vanished back into his room as Nell and Callen exchanged a concerned look. They followed him, reaching his room in seconds and coming to a halt the moment they stepped inside. It looked like all the others on their floor, except it was a mirror image of the rooms on the opposite side of the balcony. The décor was a mixture of gold, silver, and green, and Nell thought the colors cast an eerie glow around the whole room. Eric was standing near the foot of the bed, staring at a painting above the headboard.
"What is it?" Nell asked, cautiously. Nothing seemed out of place or overly concerning at first glance.
"My room is different than it was earlier," Eric told them, without looking over, and Nell got the sense that he was second-guessing even mentioning it in the first place.
"How so?" Callen asked, doing a quick survey of the room.
"I thought things felt off when I came upstairs earlier, and it just hit me why." Eric pointed at the portrait at the head of his bed. "That wasn't there earlier. I mean, there was a picture, but it was a landscape, not that creepy guy whose eyes follow me around the room."
"One of the staff must have switched the paintings," Callen told him. "Maybe it's a clue. Or maybe it's meant to heighten your sense of unease?"
"Yeah, well, mission accomplished!" Eric snapped, starting to pace.
"Or…maybe they switched the paintings out because they do that occasionally," Nell offered, going with the least sinister explanation possible. "They regularly have a cleaning crew here; I bet they clean the paintings, too."
Even as she spoke, Nell wasn't sure how much she believed her own words, but at least Eric seemed to buy it, since he'd calmed a little – he was no longer pacing, at least.
"You're probably right," Eric said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.
"You're letting Deeks' stories from earlier get to you," Callen told him. "You know he's insane. Ignore everything that comes out of his mouth and you'll have a much easier weekend."
"I heard that," Deeks said, popping up in the doorway behind them like, well, an insane person.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Eric gasped, pressing a hand to his heart.
"Sorry, Beale," Deeks said, dismissively. "You gotta be more prepared, than that. If I can scare you by showing up unexpectedly, what are you gonna do when the staff pull out all the stops? Look what they already did to Nell last night!"
Nell shifted uncomfortably and when Callen brushed his hand against hers she smiled at him in gratitude. "What happened to me was an accident," she assured Eric.
"Or so they claim," Deeks said, ominously. "I don't trust the staff, but consider if they are telling the truth…it'd almost be worse because that'd mean the house definitely is haunted. In fact, we should get a better answer to that later - 3 am, to be specific."
Nell knew it was probably a bad idea to ask, but she couldn't help her curiosity. "What happens at 3 am?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday," he said, as if that were answer enough. When she stared at him blankly, he asked, "Didn't you interview Gretchen?"
Nell shook her head – she hadn't gotten to all the interviews that day. "What'd she say?"
"I shouldn't be sharing this considering you ruined Kensi's night by making her gather over a hundred playing cards…"
Callen knew the quickest method to get Deeks to talk was to act like he didn't care. "Fine, we'll go back to our rooms, then," he said, moving toward the door.
Deeks stepped into his path. "I think it's my duty to tell you – I mean, so you can be prepared." He looked over at Nell. "Both of you."
"I think it's going to be 3 am by the time you get around to the point," Callen sighed.
"When Blackwell's wife died, he sank into a deep depression," Deeks began. "Exactly one week after she was found in the upstairs bathtub, he set up a séance to try and contact her. You see, he didn't appreciate her when she was alive. He tossed her and her love aside, chasing younger, prettier women. But none of them ever really mattered to him the way that she did. It wasn't until she was gone that he realized she was the only woman he truly loved, and the only one who'd truly loved him. Every affair he'd had were with women who were only interested in what he could do for them, what gifts he could buy them – but Lydia, she'd loved him without expectation. So in his overwhelming grief after her death, he told his staff he wanted to speak with his wife again. One last time."
"That's so sad," Nell murmured.
Callen leaned down to her. "Don't be too sympathetic. It's probably made up for the game."
"Not from what I heard," Deeks said. "According to Gretchen, it actually happened. At first, Blackwell couldn't successfully contact his deceased wife. But he kept trying and trying. Finally, after nearly two weeks of attempting to get through to her, he managed to do so. She told him in fury that she didn't care how remorseful he was about the way he'd ignored her when she was alive – it was too little, too late, and he was going to pay for the callous way he'd treated her."
"That's…kind of horrifying," Eric muttered.
"After that night," Deeks continued, "Blackwell stopped doing the séances, but Lydia never went away. Gretchen told me that her spirit is trapped in this house, unable to rest. The staff is sure she's trying to get revenge on her husband. She comes back at 3 am every Saturday morning – the precise time she died – and haunts the house until sunrise."
"Still?" Eric asked, as if he could reason his way out of what Deeks was saying. "Blackwell is long dead, so you'd think his wife would be at rest by now."
"You'd think," Deeks repeated. "But I have it on good authority that she's still here, haunting not only the house but the guests within."
"I didn't want to hear any of that," Eric complained. "Now get out, all of you. I'm barricading my door until morning. Don't expect to see me until the sun's up again!"
They left his room and from the tell-tale scraping they heard, Nell figured he really was moving furniture in front of his door.
Callen was clearly unimpressed with what Deeks had told them, since he announced: "You're crazy. I'm going to bed."
"Don't be so dismissive," Deeks warned him. "And keep in mind that whether or not this is part of the game, there might be strange things happening in the middle of the night." He paused, thoughtfully. "So try not to shoot me – or anyone else – if you catch us wandering the halls."
"I'll try to be careful," Callen said, sarcastically. "Though if I see your face peering out from behind a corner, I don't know how well I'll be able to restrain myself."
"So funny," Deeks admonished, turning to Nell. "See what the rest of us have to deal with?"
"He's not going to shoot you," she promised, as they started back down the hall.
They hadn't made it more than a few steps when Deeks held out his arm to stop them and hissed, "Do you hear that?"
Nell waited, hearing the faint strains of music from far off.
"No," Callen intoned, and even as he spoke, the music seemed to grow louder. "We're deaf."
"Shhhhh," the other man hissed, holding his finger up to his lips. "I want to know where it's coming from."
Deeks slowly crept down the hall, disappearing around a corner. Callen pressed a hand to Nell's arm and they followed their teammate by mutual, unspoken agreement. When they rounded the same corner, Deeks was staring up one of the sets of stairs that led to the third floor.
"It's definitely coming from up there," he said. "Who wants to investigate?"
"You can take this one," Nell told him.
"No, it's fine," Deeks said, moving back. "You can go first. I don't want to steal all the excitement of this weekend from you."
They started arguing over who should go up first and Callen heaved a sigh. "Am I the only adult here?"
They both looked at him and then at each other.
"You're right," Deeks told him. "You should go!"
"Yeah, Callen," Nell smiled at him, mockingly. "You're clearly the adult here."
"My schedule for the night's kind of full," Callen tried, but they'd both taken up stances behind him and it was clear he'd have to fight his way past them to escape; it was probably more trouble than it was worth.
"Well?" Deeks gestured to the stairs.
"Alright," Callen said, abruptly grabbing Nell and pushing her up the stairs ahead of him.
"Hey, wait, I don't want to be on the front line!" she protested, but she was laughing as she tried to stop their progress, and he nearly tripped over her when she came to a determined halt on one of the steps in the middle of the staircase.
"Should have thought of that before," Callen said, into her ear. "If I have to suffer, so do you."
"That hardly seems fair," she argued.
"I've got your back, you two, don't worry," Deeks called after them, as they both turned to see he was still at the bottom of the staircase.
"We're so reassured, Deeks," Callen told him. "You're a real hero."
Nell was laughing hard enough that she didn't protest when Callen took her hand and pulled her with him to the top of the staircase. Once Deeks saw that they'd made it up there alive, he slowly trailed them to the third floor.
The music had gotten louder as they ascended the stairs, and now the song was distinctive enough that they all easily recognized it. It was coming from behind one of the locked bedrooms on the third floor.
"This is a joke," Callen said. "There's no other explanation."
Deeks was nodding enthusiastically. "'Hotel California'. I have to say, if nothing else, their game plan this weekend has been on point."
Nell started humming along without realizing it. When she felt Callen's eyes on her she stopped, self-conscious. "What?"
"You're a traitor," he announced.
"It's catchy!" she protested.
"Don't blame her, Callen." Deeks was in the midst of picking the lock on the bedroom door. "The Eagles have gotten the best of many of us."
He got the door unlocked and when it swung open, they all cringed at the music which was painfully loud now that they were so close to the source. It was annoying enough that Deeks didn't hesitate to enter the room, reaching the old-fashioned record player in a few strides and turning the volume down.
"You're not even going to turn it off?" Callen asked.
"I like it," Deeks grinned. "It sets the mood."
Callen supposed he should have expected as much. "Oh, now you're all about the mood? After you were too afraid to come upstairs? Okay then."
"It's called being cautious," Deeks said, snidely.
"In other words, you'd rather send your teammates to their possible deaths than risk yourself."
"And if you had perished on those super creepy stairs, I would have been truly sad," Deeks told them. "But I also would have appreciated that your sacrifice meant that I lived."
Nell was lingering in the doorway, smiling to herself at their exchange (and mostly Callen's exasperation at it). She took a step into the room, instantly freezing when she did so. A palpable feeling of dread washed over her and she gripped the edges of the doorframe – whether to stop herself from entering the room or to prevent herself from fleeing altogether, she couldn't say.
She hovered there, half-in, half-out, and watched Callen and Deeks wander around the room, acting as if everything was normal. And everything was normal – at least to them. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary bedroom, similar to the ones downstairs, though perhaps 2/3 the size and more sparsely furnished, maybe because it was supposed to be a more economical room? Or maybe because the staff had moved some stuff out during the renovations? In fact, the furniture was arranged oddly, a queen bed pushed into a corner with a dresser and armchair right up next it, which made accessing the bed a little inconvenient. Across the room was a bureau and a desk situated under a large window that looked out onto the backyard.
Nell attributed her unease to a quirk of her mind, a simple consequence of being in a place she knew she wasn't supposed to go – a place that was decidedly off-limits (the lock on the door had proven that). It also seemed to be a place where people hadn't been in a long time, judging by the way Deeks blew some dust off the top of the desk. If they'd been renovating this room, it hadn't been touched in months. (Apparently the cleaning crew didn't bother trying to access the locked rooms.)
Despite all her rational arguments about why the room felt odd, she couldn't shake the horrible feeling that had settled in her. It was eerily similar to how she'd felt when she stepped through the front door yesterday. And it was much too close to how she'd felt when she was trapped in the basement.
That was when Callen glanced over at her, clearly surprised to find her still in the doorway.
He looked from her face to her hands, which were holding onto the frame so tightly her knuckles were turning white. He was back at her side in a second. "What is it?"
She forced herself to let go of the frame. "This room. This place. It doesn't feel…strange to you?"
"Should it?" he asked, cautiously.
"I don't know, maybe it's a draft. This room, it's just…" She stopped talking, rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill – but there wasn't one and they both knew it.
"What?" he prodded.
"Wrong," she whispered. "It feels wrong."
"I'm with Nell," Deeks said, agreeably, though he didn't seem to notice the extent of her discomfort as he flipped through a stack of records. "It's like they've manufactured the whole experience to scare us as thoroughly as possible."
"Well," she told him, shortly, "it's working."
"Come on, Nell," Deeks urged, "just power through. Remember that it's all fake. Unless you're admitting the possibility that it's not?"
Nell would have replied, except she heard footsteps coming down the hall and turned to greet whoever it was – but there was no one there. It must have been her imagination running away again.
She turned back to the room and not a moment later she felt someone walk behind her in the hallway, slight movement of air brushing against the back of her neck, stirring her hair. She spun around, almost angrily, and stepped out to look in both directions, but no one was there.
A hand on her shoulder had her twisting away, instinctively lashing out to try and hurt whoever it was – but it was Callen and he easily blocked her. To his credit, he pushed her away from him instead of putting her in a hold that would have only caused her further panic. It took Nell a moment to realize what had happened.
"While I'm impressed," Callen said, "what if that wasn't me, but Deeks? You could have really injured him."
"Thanks, Callen," Deeks said, dryly.
"Maybe people shouldn't sneak up on me," Nell said, annoyed, though she suspected Callen knew her irritation was only because of how shaken she was.
"You knew Deeks and I were right here," Callen pointed out. "Who else would have touched you?"
"I don't know. I thought I heard someone…" She checked the hallway in both directions again, but it was as empty as it had been the first time around.
"I don't care what you said earlier, you're not okay," Callen insisted, as she pushed him back into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.
Even if there was something off with the room, it was better than being out in the hallway…with ghosts. "I'm fine," she lied, "but let's just leave the door shut for now."
"Good idea, Nell," Deeks nodded at her. "We don't want Davis to come wandering up here and kick us out. Not when I'm sure there are clues to be found."
Callen clearly wasn't thrilled at Nell's actions. "If we get locked in here, I'm sending Deeks out the window for help," he threatened.
"We're three stories up!" Deeks protested.
Callen shrugged. "That's your problem, not mine."
Oddly enough, their familiar bickering helped Nell feel better and she forcefully shoved aside her worry about the room and whatever had (or hadn't?) happened in the hallway. From the way Callen was looking at her, she could tell he was still concerned, but he obviously didn't want to start grilling her in front of Deeks. She appreciated that – she'd have to tell him so later.
She ran her hands over her face, trying to stave off a sudden wave of tiredness. Or more accurately…exhaustion. She hadn't slept much last night and she'd been pushing herself non-stop all day. The bed in the corner seemed pretty tempting and it was nicely made even if the bedding itself looked like it was from the 80's: garishly large flowers in bright pastels were splashed all over the comforter.
She didn't look at Callen, trying to avoid his worry, and went over to the bed, pressing her hands on it cautiously. When it didn't collapse, she carefully climbed onto it and laid down with a sigh, shutting her eyes. "You guys have got this, right?" she asked.
"Yeah, don't worry yourself," Callen told her, voice only slightly mocking. "We don't need your help. Why don't you take a nap?"
"Don't mind if I do," she said, brushing her hands over the bedding. She wondered about whoever had last slept in that bed. Had it been a few months? A few years? Who was the last person, or couple, to stay in this room?
Her thoughts drifted further, wondering whose room it had been when Blackwell was alive. She knew that they weren't in the part of the third floor that was the newer construction, which meant this room had existed since the home had been built. Had one of his family members stayed here? Or had it been a servant's quarters or a guest room?
And why was she so tired all of a sudden? She'd been dragging a little this afternoon, but she was used to forcing her way through difficult situations for long hours, sometimes working a couple days straight if necessary. But one night of poor sleep and she thought she might pass out?
Maybe she was getting sick. Or maybe the stress was getting to her.
"You falling asleep on us?" Callen asked, sitting down beside her. She couldn't be sure, but he seemed hesitant to ask the question, almost like he was reluctant to disturb her.
"What? No, I'm wide awake," she insisted, though she didn't open her eyes.
"You look wide awake."
She cracked an eye open. "I am."
"Mmhmm," he said, skeptically. "We haven't found anything."
"Typical – you two can't get anything done without me."
Callen leaned over her, grinning. "Is that so?"
"Don't challenge me," she warned, even as she couldn't help smiling up at him.
"This is a waste of time!" Deeks complained, as Callen and Nell looked over at him. "There's nothing here."
"They wouldn't have set this up without a purpose," Nell argued.
"So you'd think," he grumbled. "Maybe it was meant as a distraction? To throw us off our game?" In his disappointment, he seemed to have forgotten his alternative theory about the building actually being haunted.
"There's probably something here we're missing," Callen suggested, as Deeks examined another empty desk drawer and then shoved it back in, annoyed.
"Good luck to you finding it then. I'm going downstairs," he said, sulking as he left the room.
Nell shut her eyes again. She wasn't sure, but she could have been lying there for a minute or an hour – time seemed suddenly…inconsequential.
It was Callen who eventually snapped her out of her half-asleep state by pushing on her feet so she'd pull them up and he could lie down at the foot of the bed. "Guess that leaves the two of us?"
"What else is new?" she asked. Lately everything seemed to leave the two of them together – or was it that they always chose to be where the other one was?
"How's it going?" Granger asked, suddenly, from the doorway.
"Make that the three of us," Nell whispered, unable to keep the amusement from her voice.
"Figures," Callen sighed, sitting up.
"'Hotel California', huh?" Granger asked. "Talk about a throwback. This song came out forty years ago."
Callen opened his mouth, no doubt to make some kind of ill-advised age pun, but Nell lightly kicked him and he said nothing in favor of glaring at her.
"What is it, Agent Callen?" Granger was distinctly amused, having seen what she did. "Looked like you wanted to say something."
"As a matter of fact –"
"He didn't, sir," Nell said loudly to ensure she drowned out whatever Callen might say.
"We've been searching the room," Callen said, sparing a glance at Nell before looking over to their boss. "We haven't found any clues, though."
"I'm sure you didn't if your definition of 'searching' is lounging around," Granger said, acerbically.
"Hey, I spent half the day with you. And Deeks!" Callen reminded him. He laid back down on the bed, this time beside Nell. "That was more than enough torture for one day."
"Believe me, we feel the same," Granger assured him.
"You can tell us, sir," Nell lowered her voice, conspiratorially. "The staff set up this room, right?"
"If they did, they didn't tell me about it," the assistant director claimed.
"He sounds serious," Callen said (as if Granger couldn't hear him), "which means he's probably lying."
"Or telling the truth," Nell offered.
They both nodded at each other and looked over at their boss again.
"Alright, I'm out of here," Granger said, exasperated, as he surveyed his two agents. "I can tell you two are hard at work – far be it from me to bother you."
"I was laying down first," Nell defended herself. "Callen chose to join me after the fact."
"I hope they never charged guests for this room," Callen said. "This bed is horrible."
"Even with me as company?" she teased. "Surely that should upgrade it from like a 5 to an 8."
"Oh yeah, you two have your priorities straight," Granger told them. "And since I apparently don't scare you into even pretending to work anymore, I'm off to go harass whoever else on your team I can find."
"I recommend Deeks," Callen said, as Granger was on his way out the door. "Remind him he can check out any time he wants, but he can never leave."
Granger was laughing as he left and once they couldn't hear him anymore, Nell let her eyes shut again. It wasn't long before she felt herself drifting off. She tried to fight it, but it seemed impossible.
Too impossible.
She struggled to open her eyes, to sit up, to do anything, but she couldn't move. It felt like she had sleep paralysis and the possibilities slammed into her unrelentingly: What if she couldn't force herself to get up, what if Callen thought she'd fallen asleep, what if he left her there –
"Hey," Callen said, from beside her, and it was like his voice was the catalyst she needed to snap out of whatever was happening to her – she shot up on the bed so fast that her whole body hurt from the sudden movement. She didn't have to say anything, blinking back tears as she turned and threw her arms around him. She had no way to explain the sheer panic and fear she'd just felt.
From the way he hugged her back without question, though, she knew he could sense it.
She had no idea what to tell him. The best she could manage was, "I don't like this room."
"Then by all means," he said, getting off the bed and pulling her along with him, "let's leave it."
XXXXXX