disclaimer: all characters and other familiar references belong to the writers and creators of NCIS: Los Angeles.

A/N: Takes place during "War Cries" episode from season 5. Seasons 4 5 always give me serious Nallen vibes, but this episode especially. Enjoy!

He knew she was okay. The first words out of her mouth had been to ask about the suspect. She'd hit her head, and might have a few bruises, but there didn't seem to be any signs of a concussion. She'd essentially just had the wind knocked out of her. Once she'd had a minute to catch her breath, she'd sat up on her own and accepted the hand he offered to help her up. She'd insisted she go back to Ops, that there was still work to be done, and he'd relented after the EMTs gave her a quick once over and agreed she didn't need further medical attention.

But there'd been a few moments there when he didn't know she was okay. He sent her the text to let her know Brown was dangerous, but never received a reply. As the team rushed to the boat shed, dozens of scenarios went through his head; none of them good. He knew Nell was good at her job, but up until a few moments ago, they hadn't thought Brown was a threat, so she probably wasn't treating him as one. And this wasn't some computer geek - this guy was trained military and twice her size. If he got the drop on her it wouldn't be pretty. When he entered the boat shed and heard sounds of a struggle coming from the interrogation room, he was torn between panic and relief. Because a struggle meant she was alive, but he didn't know what they'd find behind that door. The other man had said Brown was a psycho.

Sam beat him through the door and tackled Brown. Which was fine by him, because it meant he could focus on making sure Nell was okay. Which she was.

But since they'd left the boat shed, he couldn't get those worst case scenarios out of his head. He needed to see again with his own two eyes that she was really okay. Not to mention her mental and emotional state. A fight like that when you weren't used to it could be traumatic.

So when he saw her walking out of Ops later that evening, he gently took her by the elbow, ushered her into an alcove and wrapped his arms around her. "Are you sure you're alright?" he whispered into her hair.

"I was until you started suffocating me just now."

"Sorry." He loosened his arms a bit and took a half step back, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek. "I just..."

"I know." She brought her hand up over his. "But I'm okay, really."

He searched her eyes and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. She looked normal. Strong.

He nodded. "Can I give you a ride home? No one will think anything of it, considering..." He gestured to the bandage on her forehead.

"You've got that dinner with Sam and Michelle."

"We'll reschedule."

"Don't be ridiculous. You said it seemed like a big deal to him."

"But..."

"You're going."

He sighed. There was no use arguing with her. "I'll come by later then?"

"That would be nice, yes."

He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her forehead before wrapping her in another warm embrace. "And you'll call if you need anything?"

He felt her nod against his chest.

"Alright. I'll see you tonight then" He released her, stepping out of the alcove and heading downstairs, where he was accosted by Hetty with his wardrobe for the evening.

Author's note: Thanks for reading! (Reviews always appreciated!) I'm leaving this as a one-shot for now, but not marking it as "complete." I have some ideas about what a next chapter or two could look like, but am not sure about where a longer story could go. If inspiration strikes or this story gets a lot of positive reviews I may continue adding to this.