Author's Note: 2...
Friday morning, Callen showed up for work alone since the Doctor, but more likely Michelle, insisted Sam stay overnight in the hospital for observation. Then Hetty, again most likely at Michelle's insistence, had stood down Sam. He could return Monday, if and only if, Michelle deemed Sam was fit to come back to work. While this all amused Callen, if also served as a reminder as to why he stayed single.
Friday turned out to be a paperwork day at the office and the Senior Agent in Charge swore he would never catch up. Every time he thought he had finally reached the bottom of his inbox or his last email, more flooded or their Operations Manager insisted the rules changed and a new form was required. There was a part of Callen that thought Hetty was making up all these new rules and regulations as a form of punishment, or sadistic pleasure, but to date, he'd been unable to catch her; every time he called her out, she showed him the rule, regulation, guidance or memorandum for record.
Callen snuck up to the Ops Center for a few minutes to talk to Nell in afternoon, when 'the ninja assassin' glided into the bullpen in full stealth mode and nearly made poor Eric wet his pants for being caught with an Oreo in Ops. To his credit, Eric did not rat out Callen or Nell who had also been munching on cookies but were quicker in making their damning evidence disappear. After frightening Eric into getting a vacuum to clean up the imaginary cookie crumbs, Hetty turned her attend to Callen. "A word, Mr. Callen. In my office, please."
"Sure Hetty," he agreed amicably, following her out of Ops, down the stairs and into her den. Once there, she started to brew a pot of tea while Callen took up residence in the wicker chair on the far side of her desk. It was obvious no communications were going to be conducted until the tea was ready, so he sat back, crossed his legs and patiently waited. When the tea was done, Hetty set one fine-boned china tea cup and saucer on her desk. She filled it to the rim, set the pot back down, then excused herself. She went off across the open space to the kitchen. Shortly, she returned with a small, plastic, single serving, screwed top container of skim milk and set it in front of Callen. She proceeded to take her seat, pick up her tea, blow across the top then finally take a sip.
Callen sat there with a bemused expression on his face, as Hetty peered at her agent across the top of her tea cup. "Am I wrong in assuming you'd rather have milk to wash down those Oreo's in your pocket, then tea?"
Callen knew busted when he heard it. With a grin, he took the lid off the milk and took a healthy swig before reaching in his shirt pocket and pulling out four Oreos, two which he kept and two which he handed to his boss.
"About time. For a moment I thought you weren't going to share," she declared as she took one of the cookies, twisted the lid off and licked at the creamy white icing with a delicate pink tongue.
Callen's eyes narrowed slightly which wasn't missed by his uber observant boss. "What? You don't twist them open to eat them?"
"Actually, no, I don't."
Hetty shook her head in disbelieve. "You aren't a dunker are you Mr. Callen!" she said with loathing.
"Yep. Wanna lend me a tea cup to pour this milk in?" He held up the half empty carton and gave it a little shake.
Hetty's hand remained firmly wrapped around her tea cup as if guarding it. "Heaven forbid no! If you must eat your cookies in that barbaric fashion, go get a recycled paper cup."
"Too much work." The agent took a bite from one of his cookies then slugged some milk with the mouthful. "This works," he mumbled with a mouthful of cookies and milk. When he was done, he brushed a few crumbs off the front of his blue shirt on to Hetty's rug which earned him the evil eye , which he chose to ignore. "So what do you want to talk about Hetty? I assume this wasn't just so you could steal my Oreos."
"Well," she said innocently, "I was looking for a little nosh to have with my afternoon tea..." Callen rolled his eyes. "But I also wanted to ask how things are going."
Going on instant alert, Callen uncrossed his legs, as he studied his boss because she never just 'wondered'; there was always an ulterior motive. "Do you have a specific thing in mind or just general things?"
She took another sip of her tea. "Is there a specific thing I should be asking about?" she countered.
"Sam is recovering nicely. I talked to him today," Callen offered.
Hetty hmmed. "Yes. Michelle gave me a call."
"You women all stick together," Callen accused his boss.
Hetty gave him a slight frown. "Was that a sexist remark, Mr. Callen?"
Giving her his best choir-boy face he replied, "It wasn't meant to be. Did you take it as one? It was just an observation."
"Perhaps an observation better kept to one's self in the future," she gently chided.
"Noted." Callen settled back deeper in the chair and recrossed his legs to wait her out. After what felt like an eternity, he broke; otherwise he had the feeling they would still be sitting here come Monday morning and he actually had a few plans for the weekend. "Something else?" he reluctantly inquired.
"I don't think you answered my first question yet, Mr. Callen. If you hope to catch the first quarter of the game, down at your favorite guilty pleasure bar on the strip, you'd better start talking. Happy hour and half-price appetizers don't last forever."
Damn the woman knew everything. Sighing in frustration he pleaded, "Give me a hint Hetty."
Moving her nearly empty teacup to the side, she leaned forward on her desk. "From what I hear, you displayed remarkable marksmanship yesterday. Probably the only reason your partner is still alive."
"I'm a good shot Hetty. You know that," he said quietly.
"True. An excellent shot if the truth be told, but it seems to me recently, oh say the last month or so, your aim has been a little off."
Callen's eyes grew cold. "Are you referring to Alex Fryman?"
"Am I? Is there something you neglected to mention to me connected to that case?" Hetty could see she struck a nerve in her agent by the way he cocked his jaw. "Let's stop beating around the bush shall we? Have the tremors gone away?"
His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. She knew. "Sam told you?"
"Mr. Callen, no one told me, especially not you're loyal, if slightly misguided partner in crime. Don't you think you should have told me? I thought we had a more honest relationship than this," she stated, disappointment coloring her voice.
Callen let go of all his anger and his head drooped in shame. "I should have. I was wrong. Where do we go from here?"
"Well, you might be happy to hear that I received a call from Assistant Director Granger. You have been cleared of any wrong doing in the Alex Fryman shooting."
Callen's head shot up and his eyes sought out hers to see if she was telling the truth, a habit he found hard to break since when he was growing up everyone had lied to him; the tiniest piece of low self-esteem still lurked in his soul and probably would forever.
"However," Hetty admonished, wagging a slightly crooked finger at her lead agent, "if I ever catch you in the field medically unsound, endangering your team, well let's say you'll be riding a desk for the rest of your life, if I let you live. Am I making myself clear Agent Callen?"
Callen nodded his head sincerely. "Crystal." Pausing for a moment, Callen ran his hand over his mouth and chin which he did when distressed. "I still don't know, what I meant to do that night, in the tunnels, about Alex."
"And you never will. You can't resurrect the past," she said wisely. "I hope I never have to make a decision like you did, Mr. Callen and I hope you never have to again."
Slowly nodding his head in concurrence, he rose and walked back to the bullpen. Hetty quietly sighed to herself. Another scar had just been carved on his psyche. It made her think of the lyrics from a song, 'How many times can I break till I shatter'.