THE EMPEROR…Write about a stern patriarch

Granger carefully maintained his emotionless facade; he would never admit - even to himself - how difficult it had become. He used to be so good at it, the best even. Probably only being second to Henrietta. Now, he found it difficult to keep his mouth straight and his eyes from twinkling. It was ridiculous, inconceivable and downright annoying. He, Owen Granger, was the ultimate lone wolf and he was being bested by one measly team. And it was Henrietta's team of all things. The entire notion was ridiculous.

He found himself finding this teams antics intriguing, amusing even. Sam with his blunt, yet loyal personality, Deeks' inane chatter that frustratingly wasn't always inane, Callen's rather odd yet sarcastic behaviour and Blues forthright teasing. Honestly, he was even growing fond of their two Meerkats.

As he got to know them more, he found himself concealing more frequent grins and eye rolls. They had made him lose control.

He collided with Henrietta, both of them stumbling. See! They even made him less aware of his surroundings. He had completely forgotten that he had been walking.

"Apologies," he said stiffly, picking up one of her files.

"No harm done, Owen," she replied warmly, dusting herself up. "What has you all in a tizzy."

He gave her a look. Owen Granger did not get himself 'all in tizzy'. He'd never demean himself to that level.

"Deeks!" came the sharp shout of Blye, interrupting the two.

Deeks suddenly ran past them a grin on his face. He came to a skidding stop as soon as his brain registered who exactly he had just sprinted past. It was quite amusing how quickly his face shifted from happy to stunned to horrified too sheepish.

"Deeks, I swear if you-" Blye threatened, in close pursuit.

She too came to a screeching thought thanks to a combination of Deeks' 'cease and desist' hand gestures and the looks on his and Henrietta's faces. His schooled into stern disapproval and hers into amusement.

"Hetty! Assistant Director," she said rather feebly after a gulp (from fear or just gasping for air, Owen wasn't sure).

"Miss Blye, is there a reason that you are breaking one of my cardinal rules about running in this building?" Henrietta asked pleasantly with an undercurrent of steel.

Owen snorted sorry to himself; Deeks gave him a curious look. Dammit, not soft enough. Henrietta was like a High School Principal with this team if their current and rumoured actions were to account for anything. What did that make him? Her secretary? He scrunched up his nose in displeasure of that correlation. Assistant would be better, Board of Education even more so but he was kidding himself if he thought that anyone could manage Henrietta Lange. Pity Washington hadn't figured that out yet. Deeks was still giving him a curious look out of the corner of his eye so he hurriedly focused back at the exchange at hand.

"Deeks broke it first?" Blye tattled.

Make that Elementary School.

"Because I was in fear for my personal safety," Deeks retorted.

Maybe Kindergarten, a very verbal Kindergarten.

Henrietta raised her hands like a conductor and their bickering fell away. It was amazing how she did that. His glare didn't even work on them anymore. They just gave him guilty but remorseless grins in response. He wasn't sore about that. Nope, not at all.

"Nevertheless, you were still running and you shall now return to your desks. You both have a stack of paperwork that I now want completed by end of today," she lectured.

"But-" Deeks protested.

Hetty looked at him.

"I can make it for three instead if you'd prefer?" she told him quite seriously.

Blye covered Deeks' mouth with her hand and a pointed glare before replying pleasantly, "No thank you, Hetty. Well, get right on them."

And with that she nodded at him with a polite "Sir," and dragged her partner along behind her to their desks.

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Callen teased with a smirk playing about on his face.

Sam snickered alongside his partner.

"I can arrange for you two to be as well," Hetty called over to them blandly but they all knew the threat was real.

Callen and Sam exchanged panicked looks.

"No need, Hetty," Sam assured her. "We're good."

"Oh, really?" Henrietta asked archly.

Callen nodded vigorously, "Uh huh, in fact, Sam here was just about to demonstrate a, uh, different sort of tackle to me."

"He was?" Henrietta asked, amused.

"I was?" Sam demanded before realising what his partner was doing and also nodded, "Yes, I was."

"Hm."

Callen tugged at Sam so they could quickly escape to the gym.

"We'll see you later, Hetty. Got training to do and all. Will take a few hours to get down."

Sam nodded again and they both tried to make a quick departure. Owen made sure that he looked disapproving not matter how amused he actually felt. Of course, with Henrietta Lange at the helm, escape was impossible.

"Then you'll have no problem demonstrating and being demonstrated on for the rest of the team tomorrow, boys," she called after them.

"Yes, Hetty," they both replied glumly, knowing that they hadn't got away with anything.

Owen suspected that they still preferred that over paperwork. Hell, even he would. At least when you're sparring there's a clear end, when the other guy is on the floor. Paperwork had no such thing.

"Sounds like they're in for a painful time," Owen commented.

He was curious what type of tackle they'd come up with in the next few hours and what Henrietta would make them do if they didn't. Probably extremely unpleasant.

Maybe he'd give them a few tips and hints from some of the obscure martial arts he knew. He'd remove a few forms of his own from Blye's and Deeks' stacks. They'd still have to complete their punishment but there was no point in his stuff taking up their time just yet.

"There's no harm in admitting that you are fond of them, Owen," Henrietta said in a voice that would be considered soft to anyone bit him, he detected that smugness in her tone. It was and he was sticking to it.

He looked at her impassive. Fondness was a bit of a stretch.

"You can't fool me, Owen Granger," Henrietta chided. "You are fond of this ragtag family of ours."

"Yours," he contradicted, he didn't do family.

Or did he?

"Ours," she corrected firmly.

"The great Matriarch, Henrietta Lange is sharing her role?" Owen mocked but there was no spite in it.

"Every great family needs a Patriarch too," she said with a smile.

Owen tilted his head to one side and looked at her thoughtfully. It was odd, this feeling of belonging somewhere again. Emotions warred within him.

"You've gone soft, Henrietta, " he said airily over his shoulder as he walked away from her, a small smile curving his lips.

An indignant splutter followed him. The smile changed to a smirk.

Maybe he could get used to all of this.