Spilling the Beans

By zeilfanaat

Rating: K+/PG

Warnings: The topic of Sam's coulrophobia, fear of clowns, is explored here, though there are no vivid scenes featuring clowns. This is mostly about the effects of coulrophobia and ways to deal with it. Still, if this is a trigger for you, stay safe, and don't read. Feel free to contact me if you have questions.

Also talks a bit about being buried alive, though it's nothing that wasn't shown in the episode. Still, if you're worried, ask away.

Disclaimer: NCIS: Los Angeles does not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended. This is purely for satisfying my own curiosity.

Spoilers: 2x05 Little Angels; and a little bit regarding the make-up of Sam's family.

Summary: Just how did the topic of Sam's coulrophobia come up in the first place? How did the car ride back from Commander Rehme's house go after Sam more or less told Rehme they'd stay on the case? Missing scenes from 2x05, mostly car conversations and thoughts.

A/N: The quotes in italics are from the episode.

And thanks to LostForeverInHisEyes for looking this over for me, helping me brainstorm when I got stuck, and generally helping me to make this better. (It also got a lot longer in the process.)

Started: February 2021 Finished: March 2022


Something was up.

Callen was running a little late, having taken his time to finish his chess match against himself, despite having heard Sam's Challenger arrive. It wasn't like they would be late for work, and Callen was in the mood to get on Sam's nerves for a bit. Sam hated to be kept waiting.

Yet, there he was, leaning against the black car, feigning patience as he sipped from a paper cup. Callen's eyes narrowed briefly on the logo, before turning to lock the door. Then, smirk in place, he walked up to his partner.

"Where's mine?" he said, by way of greeting. Sam's eye twitched in disapproval, which Callen took as a win and a hint that the wait had gotten to Sam more than he allowed to show.

"Good morning to you too, G." The former SEAL's voice was deceptively chipper.

"Good morning," Callen allowed. "Where's mine?"

"Who says I got coffee for you too?" Sam countered, pushing himself away from the door so he could open it while Callen walked around to stow his bag in the back.

Callen shrugged. "The coffee cup."

He watched as Sam's eyes briefly flickered down to the cup he was holding, then saw the realisation dawn. That… was a surprise. Not a conscious decision then, which prompted a spark of worry to take root. He walked over to the passenger side, then raised his eyebrow and waited.

"Just get in the car," Sam replied in resignation. He looked down at the coffee cup with a glare, though whether it was aimed at the contents or at how easily he'd given himself away, Callen wasn't sure. Probably both. He waited for another few moments, but when Sam put the cup to his lips and took a large gulp of the coffee which resulted in a wince, he opened the door and sat down in the passenger's seat. Fair enough. They could pretend. Callen happened to be fairly good at that after all.

While Sam settled in his seat, Callen happily took the coffee cup he'd known would be waiting for him from its holder. Taking a careful sip – the lid had done a good job of keeping the beverage warm – he gave Sam a smug look. A half-hearted glare was his response.

"You could say 'thank you', you know," Sam said disapprovingly, putting his own cup in the second holder.

"I could," Callen agreed, pointedly taking another sip. At Sam's expectant look, he made a motion at the road in front of them. "Well, what are you waiting for? We don't want to be late."

"Right. Let's go." The eyeroll was expected.

The smile was not. Or rather, the conscious effort it took. Because Callen hadn't missed how the mutinous muscle at Sam's jaw had jumped when the corners of his mouth had curved upward. Just because Callen had decided to play along didn't mean his mind wasn't simultaneously analysing Sam's body language. It was practically second nature.

As the engine smoothly rumbled to life and the car started rolling forward, Callen habitually let his eyes glance over his neighbourhood, looking for small deviances from people's usual routines. Nothing noteworthy. Just his partner's reluctance to fess up to whatever was on his mind.

It couldn't be too serious, or Sam would have come out with it by now. Clearly Sam wanted something from him, and it wasn't something as simple as wanting to leave work an hour early. It might be something as devious as trying to get Callen to convince Hetty to let Sam leave work an hour early though. In that case, the coffee wasn't a bad start, but it wouldn't cover it by far. Callen supposed he could be nice and just wait him out. Except, he was feeling light-hearted, and it was always fun to see how far he could push his partner's limits before he gave in.

He took another sip of his coffee, appreciating the caffeine boost, absently noting they hadn't picked up a tail so far either.

Well, he'd given him a heads-up and several opportunities now; the ball was in Sam's court. In the meantime, Callen was going to simply indulge in his own mood.

"You know, if you'd picked me up before going for coffee, I could have picked up breakfast at the same time."

The lines on Sam's forehead deepened. "You haven't had breakfast yet?"

He had.

"Not the point. Just saying, logistically, this could have been done more efficiently."

If the groan was anything to go by, Callen's self-appointed mission to make a nuisance of himself was already well on its way. And he had barely even started...

It wasn't unusual for Callen to break their companionable silence and initiate their car conversations. A wide range of interest coupled with minimal sleep left him with plenty of curious hypotheses to ponder and discuss with his partner. It used to annoy Sam, who would complain about how it distracted Callen from doing his job. Proving him wrong had been fun. Nowadays, the former SEAL didn't hesitate to join in, no doubt explaining them away as 'good mental exercises', never mind that he obviously enjoyed the ensuing banter just as much as Callen did. They kept each other sharp.

Today however, as the car drew nearer to their destination, Sam's responses were falling short of his usual standard. His heart just didn't seem to be in it. Callen might have mourned the loss of his rare light-hearted mood - getting under someone's skin just wasn't as satisfying when the other party was distracted - but concern easily washed that away. Quite frankly, it just made him reassess his previous conclusion on the seriousness of the situation, and made the worry sprout leaves. Which may have been why Callen was starting to angle for things where his partner usually drew the line, hoping to push him into sharing whatever was on his mind.

However, when Sam agreed to take Callen's car for cases today with minimum complaints or conditions, Callen decided enough was enough. They were close to the office now, and aside from his concern, he'd rather know ahead of time if what was occupying Sam's mind would affect his ability to focus on a potential case. Time for a change in tactics. Letting his eyes casually wander past the rearview mirror, confirming that there was still no outside threat, he turned his head to the left and fixed his gaze on his partner.

Straight to the point it was.

"So, what do you want?"


The hands on the steering wheel tightened before Sam caught himself and made a conscious effort to loosen his grip. "What are you talking about? Nobody said anything about wanting anything," Sam countered with a frown, pointedly not looking towards his right, because he already knew what he'd see. The change in tone from playful to intense was enough to know that those blue eyes were currently laser focused on him. He could practically hear the countdown enter its last minute.

Callen scoffed. "Oh, come on, I've been pushing your buttons practically non-stop, and you have hardly pushed back. You've given in on things I usually have to bargain for. And," There was a brief pause. From the corner of his eye, Sam could see him raising the object that had effectively kicked off the countdown. "You don't like this coffee place. You, my friend, have been trying to butter me up since you left your house." The words were spoken in a teasing manner, but there was a hint of worry beneath which his partner wasn't even trying to hide.

Sam sighed, acknowledging that the coffee cup would have been a dead give-away to his eagle-eyed partner. In fact, he probably should have just come out with it the moment Callen had let him know he was onto him. If he had, he wouldn't have had to suffer through Callen's unnerving behaviour and inane observations. Well, maybe. Sometimes Callen was just in that mood, and today seemed to be one of them.

Sam had just been too hung up on trying to casually bring up the problem without giving an indication that there was one. Too late now.

In his mind's eye he could see the digits reaching its inevitable end.

"Fine." He sighed, first tilting his head one way then the other to try and release some of the tension that had settled in his shoulders ever since this morning. "Got any plans for Saturday?"

He didn't really expect Callen to give a straight answer; especially not since the other man knew something was up. He wasn't disappointed.

"Why?" There was no sign of suspicion in his tone, just curiosity, but that didn't mean anything. Callen was always examining motives. Still, perhaps he could still get away with the simple request. He really should have just gone with that from the start. Stupid, irrational fear.

"Can you take the kids to the circus on Saturday?" Surely, Callen wouldn't mind. He'd probably enjoy the experience.

"Why?" Just a hint of suspicion now. He had to act fast.

"We promised the kids they could go to the circus Saturday afternoon – it's the last weekend it's in the area. Michelle was going to take them, but she got a phone call this morning that a friend from high school passed away. Funeral is on Saturday."

"I'm sorry," Callen said with sympathy, all joking now cast aside.

Sam nodded. "Thanks. They hadn't seen each other in a while, but they were good friends." He felt a surge of guilt, using the tragic circumstances to divert G's attention in order to convince him to take the kids, but it was the truth. He would have told him regardless, because Michelle and Callen had become friends in their own right, and Callen would want to know.

"So why aren't you taking them?" Callen asked, looking at Sam with a gauging expression. Sometimes Sam hated that his partner was so good at his job. This was a perfectly normal request - 'can you take my kids to the circus on Saturday?' - and it only required a simple yes or no response. Instead, Callen's radar had gone off and was asking questions Sam didn't want to answer. Why had he subconsciously gone and bought that sorry excuse for coffee? It was as good as a flashing neon sign. Luckily, they'd arrived at the mission, so Sam had a good excuse not to look in Callen's direction as he answered while navigating the necessary turns to arrive at the entrance.

"I have plans." A response which, on second thought, he really should have prepared a little better. And he called himself an undercover agent.

"What plans?" Callen insisted as Sam parked the Challenger in its usual spot. To be fair, Sam had had plans… he'd planned to invite Callen over to watch a game while Michelle took the kids to the circus. But those plans obviously were no longer viable. And now that he'd turned the engine off, there was no reason to avoid Callen's gaze.

"Just, plans," he said tersely. Maybe if he said it firmly enough, Callen would back off. That usually worked. Callen had plenty of things he didn't want to talk about either. And if it was clear that Sam didn't want to talk about something, he'd respect that.

Callen looked at him for what felt like eternity during which Sam reminded himself to just keep breathing. Then the other man nodded briefly. "Okay." There was another moment, before he added, "So, Saturday afternoon, huh? I'll pick them up sometime after lunch then." Taking his nearly finished coffee, he stepped out of the car.

Sam stayed seated.

He was off the hook! He couldn't believe it. Had it really been as simple as that?

The pent-up fear that had dominated his thoughts and actions far more than Sam liked to admit found an outlet when Sam took a deep breath, then released it. Leaning his head back against the car seat, he closed his eyes as mixed feelings flooded through him. Relief, because Callen had agreed - without pressing for the real reason - to take his kids to the circus, which meant he didn't have to. He didn't have to!

But there was also a measure of guilt. Yes, Callen had backed off. However, he knew his partner. Despite backing off, Callen would continue to worry about him, probably keeping a closer eye on him. And that really wasn't necessary. It wasn't that big a deal after all.

There was another uncomfortable thought trying to push to the front, calling him a liar about it not being that big a deal. Trying to point out how much the thought of going to the circus had affected him. At just how far he was going to avoid– Well, it didn't matter now. Taking the telling coffee cup with him, he got out and joined Callen at the back of the car to get his bags.

"Thanks." He meant it.

"No problem," Callen said lightly. "It's been a while since I went to the circus."

Sam appreciated Callen's effort to lighten the mood and made an effort to restart their banter – something he hadn't really contributed to on the drive over.

"You'll probably feel right at home. In fact,your yearbook probably says you were most likely to join the circus." It wasn't his best comeback, but hopefully it conveyed that his head was back in the game.

Callen considered. "I don't remember ever having a yearbook." Sam inwardly winced, regretting his comment, but Callen didn't seem affected. In fact, a grin appeared on his face. "I don't think I would have minded if it had said that."

Relieved, Sam shook his head at the way his partner's mind worked sometimes.

"I almost did." Callen added casually.

Sam paused. Were they still talking about the same thing? "You what?" Best to make sure.

"The circus. I hung around one for a while as a kid." He shrugged. "Pickpocket's paradise." Callen started to walk to the entrance of the building.

"You will not teach my kids how to pickpocket," Sam replied, even while adding this titbit of information to what he knew about his partner's past. The circus bit, not so much the pickpocketing part, because that had come up before. In fact, thinking about it, Sam wondered whether that had been the real reason Callen had hung around the circus. If he'd been a kid at the time, he'd probably run away from a foster home, and had been living on the streets. Streets that weren't exactly safe for a child. A familiar ache settled in his chest as he realised that a young G. Callen had probably figured out it was safer and less conspicuous to hang out with the circus crowd than it was to wander the streets alone.

"No promises," Callen said, dragging Sam back to the present, turning for a moment to give Sam an innocent smile.

He'd really been given an out. Callen had agreed to take Aiden and Kam to the circus, hadn't pressed for details despite the flimsy excuse Sam had offered, and had even volunteered a detail from his own past to distract Sam from what was bothering him. He wouldn't bring up Sam's 'plans' again, unless he felt it was necessary.

More than ever, Sam felt he owed his partner an explanation. It would come out at some point. Besides, it would show those wayward thoughts that it really wasn't that big a deal. (Not that he needed to convince himself of course.) It was nothing. Lots of people had phobias. Definitely not worth the worry he'd caused his partner. Who cared if other people knew.

"G."

Callen stopped just short of opening the door and looked at him.

"I…there are no other plans."

There was no surprise, nor had Sam expected there to be. His partner didn't say anything, just nodded in easy acceptance and waited, leaving it up to Sam whether or not to give an explanation or not.

"Look, it's just…" He looked up for a moment, then admitted, "I have coulrophobia." There, he'd said it. See, no big deal.

Callen blinked. "Fear of clowns?"

Huh, imagine that, he'd surprised his partner after all. He could almost see the puzzle pieces click together as Callen reframed this morning's events in light of Sam's coulrophobia. Next, his posture relaxed, worry lines ebbed away from his face, and the carefree glint in his eyes that had been swallowed up by concern now re-emerged. It loosened something inside Sam as well, and he felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders relax in response. He'd made the right call in telling his partner.

"Yes," Sam confirmed, shrugging in a dismissive manner. "I just don't want to spoil the kids' fun by being a bit on edge the whole afternoon."

Callen hummed in agreement, and as far as Sam was concerned, the topic was now closed, and they could go in. He motioned for Callen to open the door. When his partner didn't move, he rolled his eyes, pushed past, and let them in. He could tell from the look on Callen's face that he wouldn't just let this go without comment. It was a new piece of information, and his partner's innate curiosity meant he would be looking at it from all angles.

"Coulrophobia," Callen said slowly, following Sam inside. "I mean, that really exists?"

Sam would definitely have to endure some teasing, but it was okay. It was. Besides, as much as Callen might be poking fun at him, he would still be there on Saturday, and Sam was still coasting on the wave of relief that had brought. And if there was still a small, insistent thought at the back of his mind involving a river in Egypt, he ignored it. It could drown in there for all he cared. He was off the hook!


Something was up. Again. Or still? Callen thought the issue about him taking Sam's kids to the circus was over and dealt with after Sam had confessed his dislike, no, his fear, for clowns. He'd seemed alright though after they'd entered the building. Perhaps not thrilled about being teased, but he'd readily jumped aboard teasing Kensi about her chaetophobia. He'd seemed alright too when they drove out to Commander Rehme's house to look for the missing officer. Sure, he'd grouched a little about not taking the Challenger, but he only had himself to blame for that. And Sam complaining about Callen driving was nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet, when the commander had asked them just now to stay on the case, Sam had jumped right over Callen to say they would do what they could. That hardly happened. Sure, Callen didn't stand on his position of being the team leader and was pragmatic enough to know when to let someone with better qualifications take a leading position for specific operations. But Sam didn't overrule Callen in public. If Sam thought Callen was making a wrong decision, he'd talk to him in private. He could have done that. He could have taken Callen aside, explained his reasoning, given him something to convince Callen to stay onboard. He hadn't, and Callen feared it was because Sam didn't have a better reason than, 'because that's what I'm gonna do'.

Of course, Callen understood that Sam was sympathetic towards Rehme. The shared Naval background was something that Sam was prone to base his first impression on, although it didn't usually raise its head unless it involved SEALs. Something about that brother-in-arms thing. Still, that didn't seem to be the underlying reason here.

He glanced over at the passenger seat as he drove the car back to the office. Tension radiated off Sam's posture, muscles coiled, ready to spring into action. It was controlled, but it was there, and it was enough to have sparked Callen's own body into alertness. Years of working together, reading and trusting each other's body language and responding to it, ensured his body also automatically prepared for danger. Except, there was no current threat. He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel to allow his muscles to fall back to its usual level of alertness.

The tension had increased when they watched the video of Amanda being buried. He'd thought nothing of it then, because the video was disturbing enough on its own to invoke that response in all of them. But something had triggered Sam at that moment.

It could be that it involved a child. Those cases tended to hit harder anyway, and Sam was a father as well, drawing another parallel between him and the Naval officer. They'd had other cases involving kids though, and some they stayed on and some they handed over. Callen didn't like having to make the decision to hand over a case, especially a case like this. But he would do it if needed, if he thought the other agency had a better chance of solving the case. Or if having two agencies on one case would interrupt the efficiency of the case being solved or could even prevent a life being saved. He had made those decisions in the past. None of them had involved Sam undermining him. And that's essentially what he'd done. Rehme wouldn't trust Callen to look out for his daughter, not anymore, questioning Callen's decisions and instinctively looking at Sam for a second opinion. And Callen didn't blame the commander for that; he was just worried for his child. But it still crippled the investigation if Callen were to give instructions that needed to be followed immediately or exactly, and the commander were to hesitate or hold back due to a distrust that could have been prevented.

Better to have Sam be Rehme's point of contact. Which, Callen knew, was a decision he probably would have made anyway due to the natural rapport between the two men. He just disliked being forced into it. Still, it was done. Time to move forward.

"If we stay on this case–" Callen started, immediately interrupted by his partner.

"I am staying on this case. I don't know about the rest of you," Sam countered with force, the glare he sent Callen's way just shy of being belligerent.

Unimpressed, Callen sent his partner a look, but Sam pointedly turned to look out the front window.

"If we stay on this case - which, by the way, you still have to convince Hetty of, and you had better come up with a better reason than 'because I am'," he pointed out, his own annoyance briefly shining through, noting Sam's stubborn set of the jaw, "you'll be the one keeping Rehme informed, because he's sure not going to trust me anymore."

That got a flinch. Good. Sam worked his jaw loose before his head turned in Callen's direction, eyes roving over the radio, the gearbox. It was clear Sam realised the implications of his action. Sam was the military man out of the two of them; he knew the importance of the chain of command. There was no need to spell it out to him anymore than Callen had already done. When Sam finally met his eyes and gave him a brief nod, that was all the apology Callen needed, and he gave a nod back in acceptance.

That was settled. It still didn't explain why Sam briefly went off the rails, but at least he seemed to have his head back in the game. Sam turned back to look ahead, leaving Callen still wondering about the underlying reason of why this case in particular got to his partner.

Callen's mind flashed back to the moment earlier that morning when he'd pointed out the coffee cup. The surprise in Sam's eyes as he realised that he'd gone out of his way to get this particular brand, indicated to Callen that there was more behind that story. Because, sure, his partner may have preferred to keep his motives for not wanting to go to the circus hidden, preferred to bribe his partner with not-particularly good coffee. And the coffee wasn't that good; Callen would readily admit that was true to anyone but his partner. The quality of the coffee was not why he supported that café. It was just fun to make Sam assume it was.

So, sure, if Sam had wanted to avoid Callen teasing him about something, Callen could understand him trying to manipulate him into things. However, usually, Sam would own up when Callen pointed out he'd seen through his machinations. Just get the request over with so they could move on. This morning, he'd fretted the entire drive to work, even after Callen had let him know he was on to him. And it hadn't been a conscious choice to take the bribing route. Thinking back, Callen had the discomforting thought that it had been more a choice of desperation.

It wasn't the coulrophobia itself that had Sam on tenterhooks before he even picked Callen up. Well, Callen supposed it could be; he didn't actually know how serious this fear of clowns was, and phobias tended to make people do strange things. Still, the way Sam had talked about the coulrophobia later on, didn't stroke with his actions earlier. So, not the coulrophobia itself perhaps, but related.

His eyes narrowed in thought even as he kept his eyes on the traffic. Could whatever it had been that had Sam on edge this morning, be related to whatever it was that had him starting to obsess over this case? No. He discarded the thought as soon as it appeared. Callen still didn't know what the underlying reason was for Sam's nerves that morning, but it had nothing to do with this case. He would, however, still do some research. It may not be related to now, but whatever it was, it was important.

That still didn't help him figure out what had Sam on edge now. Unfortunately, Callen had to conclude he wouldn't figure it out just yet. He may have a knack for putting a picture together with just a few pieces of the puzzle, but in this case, he was missing a crucial piece.

He would simply have to keep a close eye on his partner.

He wondered if Hetty would let the team continue on this case. There was enough there that they could probably swing it so they'd at least stay involved, even if the FBI was in charge. But he'd let Sam take it up with Hetty. If nothing else, it would be another pair of eyes evaluating whether the team, whether Sam, should be on this case. And if Hetty didn't agree to staying involved… Well, at least Callen had plenty of leave accrued. Because he knew this was one case Sam was not going to leave alone. So, neither was Callen.


Sam stormed over from Hetty's desk, barking out orders to Kensi and Deeks about meeting them up in Ops and to gather all the leads they had regarding the case. He didn't miss the surprised looks they gave him. As far as they'd been aware, the case had been handed over to the FBI. He ignored them though, much like he ignored the way their eyes quickly cut to Callen for confirmation. Sam was already reaching for his phone to tell Nell and Eric to start doing their part, so he didn't see Callen's response, but he trusted his partner to back him up. And he must have, because Kensi and Deeks were quickly heading upstairs. Once Sam finished his brief call to Ops, he reached into his bag, fingers easily finding the dog tags that had been in that particular compartment for years. He pushed them into his pocket. When he straightened back up, Callen stood before him.

"Found a better reason?" Callen's eyes were piercing as he asked for the motivation he'd given Hetty to convince her.

Sam jutted up his jaw for a moment. "Risk of blackmail."

They both knew it wasn't the real reason. Hetty had known it wasn't the real reason. Of the three, only his partner was completely in the dark about his real reasons. Sam hadn't told Hetty either, but he was sure she knew. And it wasn't that Sam didn't trust Callen enough to tell him; it just… Well, he wasn't going to waste time when there was a girl out there running out of air.

And Callen didn't push. He just nodded and motioned for Sam to precede him upstairs. The burning need to do something that had taken hold of Sam appreciated the free reign to hurry up the stairs, knowing he would have felt held back had Callen gone first, even if the other man wasn't slow. Instead, he was free to charge ahead, with Callen right at his back.

It did more than he would care to admit. It gave him a modicum of peace, knowing his partner and the entire team was on the case, and if he overlooked something - which he wasn't going to! - his teammates would pick up on it.

They might think he was a bit intense, but Sam didn't care. There was a girl buried alive and he knew exactly what that felt like. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, but especially not a young girl whose biggest worry should be the fight she'd had with her father over some boy.

They were going to find her though. He'd make sure they did.


He had the missing piece. And it was a dark one.

Callen watched as Sam stormed out ahead of him, ducking under the crime scene tape, his target standing next to Deeks. Behind them, the crime scene analysts were processing carcasses of dead animals.

Having read the summary on the mission Sam had undertaken in Bosnia, back as a SEAL, it certainly explained why this case had triggered him. As he had concluded earlier, it hadn't been connected to the coulrophobia, even though Callen was convinced there was still something to be uncovered and dealt with there. But it had nothing to do with this case.

The summary did what summaries were supposed to do though, and even the details that were covered, hid much of the horrors of the experience behind clean, black letters on an unblemished, clear background. Still, some experiences couldn't be concealed entirely, no matter how simple or complicated the words. There just was no gentle way to say 'buried alive'. And 'one survivor' still implied the other man had not made it. You didn't need a vivid imagination to understand the inhumanity of that experience.

Suddenly, Callen had an inkling of just what Sam had taken out of his bag earlier and put in his pocket.

He was glad Hetty had allowed them to stay involved. Glad he'd given each of his team members an encouraging or confirming nod whenever they looked to him to check: 'Should we do this? Is Sam okay? Have you got this?'

It was intense though. Callen trusted his partner to know his limits even as he was on edge. And while those times tended to be the ones where Sam was least approachable, Callen still kept an extra sharp eye out, ready to dodge in and pull him back. It wasn't called 'edge' for nothing, and Callen had no interest in seeing his partner slip and fall.

He watched as Sam dragged Lucas off for a quiet one-on-one conversation. Looking briefly at Deeks, he wondered if he too would give him a questioning look. He didn't, and he wondered what Deeks saw. Whether he was analysing Sam's actions from a lawyer's perspective or not. After all, this was pretty close to the edge, and it hasn't been that long yet since Deeks joined the team full time. Somehow though, Callen felt reassured by another pair of eyes looking at Sam. Another pair of hands to catch in case of a slip.

The thought occurred to him that if the circus could leave out the clowns, Sam probably would appreciate the tightrope act.

He watched as Sam pushed Lucas back their way.

The balancing act continued.


It was over.

Muscles unclenched, releasing the tension they'd harboured. Sam could admit it, now that he was sitting down, now that Amanda was safe, and he was waiting for Callen to wrap things up at the summer camp: he'd been on edge all day. The coulrophobia hadn't helped, setting him off to a bad start. And while he had been able to push away the annoying feeling that he was avoiding something, the left-over anxiety had been an easy springboard for the remembered fear of being buried alive, and the recognisable worry of a parent fearing for their child.

Never mind the moments where the urgent feeling of 'it's taking too long!' had easily mixed with the desperation surrounding Bryan's death, and the more recent experience where he'd held his bleeding partner in his arms and waited for the ambulance. Those moments where he felt so helpless, unable to do more when so much more was needed.

But it was all over now. Callen had made it despite the odds, Amanda was safe, and while he had saved more than one person after Bryan had saved him, the circumstances surrounding Amanda's horrible experience had Sam finally feeling he'd fulfilled Bryan's dying wish. "I save you, you save someone else."

It had been why he had given Amanda Bryan's dog tags. It would hopefully help her, give her some comfort, and it allowed him to move on from that experience as well. That final step he hadn't known he needed. It felt liberating.

He'd worry about whatever it was he was avoiding tomorrow or some other day. Maybe Saturday, when the kids were out with Callen. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

"Ready to go?"

Sam looked up to his side where Callen stood, apparently finished.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." He pulled himself up from where he'd been reclining against a tree. As he started walking to the Challenger, looking forward to the drive now that the pressure was off, he suddenly realised Callen was not following immediately. He turned back to find Callen contemplating the place he'd just vacated.

"Coming?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Callen looked up, eyes unreadable. "Coming."

Sam shrugged it off. His partner had put up with enough from him today. Sam could cut him some slack as well.


As Callen returned from the interrogation of Stefan and Evan Maragos, he allowed his thoughts to return to this morning. He'd had a little time to kill while waiting for the Maragos boys to be prepared for interrogation, what with them being underage, so he'd decided to do some research on coulrophobia. He'd discovered it might actually be a little more serious than he'd initially thought.

There was some research indicating how the exaggerated features of a clown hid their intentions, and that for some people, this was the crux of their fear. It made him wonder why he hadn't developed a fear of clowns himself, but then, he had learnt from an early age to look at more than just someone's features to determine their intentions. A smile didn't need to be painted on someone's face just to be false, nor did a smile equate good actions.

It didn't necessarily explain Sam's coulrophobia, but it did make him realise Sam might need some help if it had a debilitating effect on his life. From what he'd witnessed, that might just be the case, even if the way Sam had gone along with the conversation hadn't necessarily indicated that.

Maybe if Callen just asked him, without joking, how bad it was, he might find out what was really behind it.

He arrived at the office, so he pushed the thoughts back in his mind. He'd just see when there was an opportunity and keep an eye on Sam in the meantime.


"Mr. Hanna? Mr. Callen?"

They could hear Hetty's voice echo through the building as they made their escape. As soon as they had left the premises in the Challenger, they looked at each other in relief, bright-eyed at having managed the escape from their observant boss.

Callen shook his head. "It never ceases to amaze me how you can lug all that body mass around so quietly," he teased.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's called training, G. I'm surprised you managed to get away from Hetty without her noticing. You were standing right beside her."

"Experience," Callen replied with a grin.

"Yeah, well, sneaking away from criminals is one thing, sneaking away from Hetty another," Sam replied good-naturedly, then shifted in his seat, missing the slight upward curl of the corner of Callen's mouth. "I can't believe I didn't notice the poison oak," he grumbled.

"We could always go back for the calamine," Callen offered, pulling his cell phone out. "Or I can ask Hetty to come to your place."

"Put that phone away. We are not going back for the calamine," Sam replied firmly, then added with a shudder, "I don't want Hetty anywhere near me with that glove." He frowned when his partner did not put the phone back in his pocket. "You're not texting Hetty, are you?"

"Guess you weren't the only one trying to 'butter someone up' today," Callen said with a grin. "And no, not texting Hetty."

"You 'butter' be shutting up now, or I won't invite you for dinner on Saturday," Sam groused. Callen chuckled.

"That's okay," he said, unperturbed. "The kids and I can eat something while we're at the circus. They don't get cotton candy much, do they?"

"You are not going to stuff my kids full of junk food and then drop them off to leave me with two kids on a sugar high," he said forcefully, sending his partner a warning glare. Callen just raised one eyebrow, and Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine, you're invited for dinner on Saturday."

Callen looked down at his phone again, tapping a few buttons, then let it rest back against his leg, face down. Content, Callen relaxed back in his seat. "Thank you, I accept."

They drove for a few moments in silence when Sam spoke up. "You know, I really do appreciate you taking the kids on Saturday."

Callen hummed as if in thought and then turned his focus his eyes on his partner. "So how bad is it really? The coulrophobia?" he asked.

Sam sighed. He didn't really want to talk about this; the day had been intense enough. But the honest concern in Callen's voice and eyes had him give in. "It's okay." He gave his partner a self-deprecating smile as he referred to Callen's comment in the bullpen that morning. "I probably won't freeze up on some terrorists popping on a red nose."

There was a moment of silence. Then: "I'm sorry."

Sam blinked at his partner's words and looked briefly to his right.

"For making a joke out of it," Callen clarified.

Sam considered making a joke right then, but when he looked at the passenger seat, he found no mocking spark in his partner's eyes, just a steady, supportive look. Sam appreciated that more than he would ever say out loud, and it prompted him to nod instead and to go on and admit, "It's gotten a bit worse though."

His eyes were on the traffic, but he knew Callen was aware of how much Sam hated to admit to this weakness. "I thought I'd gotten it under control," he continued, and it suddenly hit him just how much it bugged him. The flat of his hand hit the top of the steering wheel; not too hard, just enough to vent some frustration. "I had it under control." His jaw clenched and unclenched. "And then this morning…" He shook his head. "This morning I panicked and bought some disgusting coffee that you like for some reason, to try and convince you to go so I wouldn't have to face a bunch of clowns…"

The fact that he'd only become aware of the subconscious manipulation attempt when Callen had pointed out the coffee brand, was a glaring sign. He may have had it under control, but now it was painfully obvious the phobia had managed to sink its claws back into Sam's psyche without Sam even being aware of it.

"How did you deal with it before?" Callen asked, curious, thoughtful.

Sam's nose twitched up for a moment as he recalled his previous methods. "Mostly exposure, and desensitisation." He didn't like revisiting the memories of the early efforts though. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, then to his partner, catching the slight narrowing of his eyes, before turning back to keep an eye on the traffic ahead.

"Professional help?" Callen asked non-judgmentally.

"The Colonel sure thought he was." The bitter words escaped before Sam could consider holding on to them. They stopped to wait for a traffic light, and Sam resisted the urge to scratch at his butt, fingers briefly curling tighter around the wheel. He looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then gave a slow nod. "Probably made it worse." One scary movie had him develop a mild phobia for clowns, but the Colonel had wanted to nip it in the bud. "Dragged me to all the circuses in the state, rented probably all clown movies there were at the time…" He scoffed. "Even had a clown pop up at a birthday party." Party had been over after that. "Never been so glad we were moving to a different base soon after."

The light turned green, and traffic started moving again.

"So, that didn't work…" Callen concluded after a few moments of silence, prompting Sam to continue.

"Went to a school counsellor; we worked on desensitisation." He nodded. "It helped." A smile played at the edges of his mouth at a memory. "She started wearing parts of a clown costume during sessions. Once she painted her nose red but forgot to bring something to take it off." He chuckled. "She ended up smudging it out enough to make it look like she had a bad cold, and when I was leaving, another teacher saw her and told her she'd best take the rest of the day off." He remembered she'd nodded and said she might just do that, then winked at him once the teacher's back was turned.

Callen nodded. "Glad it helped," he said sincerely.

Sam replied with a soft hum, mind turning back to this morning. It had been a long time since he'd had a reaction quite that strong.

As if reading his mind, Callen asked, "So what brought it back?"

"I guess it's been a while since I was confronted with a clown - present company excluded of course," he added with a grin. Callen rolled his eyes at him but waited. "And then a couple of weeks ago one of Kam's friends had a birthday party. Went to pick her up, clown popped up out of nowhere…" He shook his head. "Guess it just brought back the wrong memory." He huffed. "And then of course Kam wanted to go visit the circus her classmates were talking about…"

"And you couldn't say no, because she's your little girl," Callen agreed.

This time it was Sam rolling his eyes. "I honestly didn't think it affected me as much as it obviously did." He spread out his fingers in defence and shook his head. "I didn't panic though when that clown was suddenly in my face! I, you know, almost grabbed him in a headlock for invading my space. Stopped myself in time. No one there even noticed."

"Didn't punch him?" Callen teased. "Throw him on the ground?"

"Nope. I'm not like some people when they get woken up suddenly."

"You want me to sleep more, yet you wake me up when I sleep," Callen countered unapologetically. "Besides, only punched you for that once."

"Yeah, 'cause I learnt to move out of the way," Sam grumbled good-naturedly.

"You don't even approach anymore," Callen corrected with a scoff. "You just have the kids start throwing wet washcloths at my face when I'm staying on your sofa."

Sam smirked. "Good target practice." He shifted a little in his seat again, exclaiming, "Ugh, I hate poison oak." They drove on in silence for a few moments.

"Would you have panicked as well if it had been just you going to the circus?" Callen asked suddenly. Taken aback, Sam frowned in confusion at his partner.

"I wouldn't have panicked because there wouldn't have been an issue; I wouldn't go to the circus by myself," he replied, impatience colouring his words, still disliking the fact that he hadn't been in control of his emotions.

"Humour me," Callen replied steadily. Sam huffed but gave it some honest thought. His gut still clenched a little at the thought of going to a circus and having more than one person with painted faces pop up unexpectedly around him. He could imagine his response; the increased heartbeat, the shortness of breath, the…the breathing exercise he would do to counter these responses…the way he'd be able to not freak out at seeing multiple clowns… Huh. That… that was okay. Acceptable. He frowned, coming back to the question: why the panic?

Callen, obviously seeing the confusion, prompted, "What if Aiden and Kam were there as well?"

Sam wanted to respond that it would change nothing, because he'd still keep his fear under control. Except… he imagined Aiden and Kam witnessing his reactions. No. That– No.

His foot eased off on the accelerator a fraction as his thoughts were slamming on the brakes. Frustration and embarrassment at his own reactions had him quickly press back onto the gas, but he knew Callen had noticed.

"Is it the fear of the clowns that has you worried, or the fear of how your possible reaction might affect the kids?" Callen asked after a few moments of silence.

"Does it matter?" Sam growled, shifting in his seat at the parallel discomfort of his itching backside and the conversation.

"It helps determine the best way to overcome the fear," Callen simply stated. Sam scoffed, but Callen didn't let that deter him. "You just said, 'no one noticed'. When you were picking up Kam." He had, hadn't he. He'd been very aware of how the kids and the other parents had been looking at him. He promptly recalled the reactions of his friends, back when he'd freaked out at his own birthday party. The humiliation. The way people had looked at him differently. How he'd looked at himself differently. The disappointment on the Colonel's face.

"Aiden and Kam won't think any less of you if they know about your coulrophobia," Callen said with quiet conviction, having made the intuitive jump even without Sam letting him know his thoughts.

Automatically, Sam went to refute that. Except… he thought back to his own father, how he had considered fear to be a weakness, how it had shaped him and his ways of dealing with fears. Sam had realised that, later on, and had decided that that's not how he wanted his kids to grow up. How he wanted to deal with their fears. It's not how he and Michelle were raising the children.

"I just don't want to spoil their afternoon. Or make them scared of clowns too," Sam reluctantly admitted.

"Look, Sam, you just said you didn't knock out the clown when you picked up Kam. You think you'd be okay if it would just be you having to face a bunch of clowns," Callen listed before he went on to make his point. "You're scared they'll witness a panic attack when really, the most they'll see is you facing your fear and being able to handle it."

Sam snorted. "You going to quote Mandela now?" he asked, even as he allowed the thoughts to sink in.

"Was going for Roosevelt actually," Callen countered with a smirk. "You know, that 'something is more important' bit."

"You read too much," Sam grumbled. Despite that, he had to admit he had a point. He already felt often enough that he missed out on his kids' lives. Was he really going to let this coulrophobia rob him of a chance to spend an afternoon with his children?

They drove on for a bit longer in silence before Callen suggested, "Want to go together, the four of us?"

Sam could say no, and Callen would leave it at that, take the kids and join him afterwards. But… Sam didn't want to give in to this phobia either. Especially considering there was no indication that he would freak out like he had all those years ago. And with Callen there as well…

"You could step outside if you do need a break."

That would work. Like Callen had pointed out, it was unlikely Sam would be having a strong reaction to clowns; especially knowing ahead of time they would be there. And it wouldn't be the end of the world if his kids were to notice their father being a little on edge. He'd rather they notice that and know he was still okay despite this fear, than have them realise he was avoiding something because of the fear. It was okay to have fears. It was not okay to have them dictate his life.

And in the unlikely event that he did freak out, Callen would keep an eye on the kids.

His head bobbed up and down as he made a decision. "Okay." He accepted the mental gauntlet the phobia had thrown down. The decision to go to the circus together settled more firmly in his shoulders as he pushed them back. "Yes." He nodded, turning to look at Callen, seeing the steady support in the single returning nod. Then he noticed the slight upward quirk of the corner of his mouth, and mentally braced for impact.

"I could always start wearing a red nose during our commute this week. You know, get you used to it."

"You will do no such thing," Sam said firmly. He took another look at his partner, and the spark in his eyes from this morning had returned. "You're not," he reiterated, even as his own mouth started to curve up at seeing that light-heartedness return. It echoed in his own body. The niggling thought at the back of his mind had been silenced now that the underlying issue had been dragged out into the open, and for the first time today, Sam felt truly at ease. Well, aside from that other itch…

"Hmm," Callen returned non-committedly, looking outside, hands toying with his phone. Suddenly he straightened. "Hold on, park here for a second."

"What are you going to the store for? Did you run out of beer?" Sam asked, even as he found a parking spot not far from the store's entrance. A brief thought had him adding, "If you buy a red nose, you're walking home!"

"I'll be right back," Callen replied without responding to Sam's questions or the threat. Sam rolled his eyes but resigned himself to waiting.

He forced his hands to stay on the steering wheel. Scratching wouldn't help. He started to grumble under his breath about how he should just leave his partner there. He could do his shopping on his own time. Not that he actually would leave, but it felt good to grouse about it.

Just then his partner returned, and a bottle of calamine landed in Sam's lap. At Sam's questioning look, he shrugged and held up his phone. "Asked Michelle if you had any at home, she said no. Told her we'd pick some up."

At this, Sam rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Thanks." He tucked the bottle in the door's side pocket for now, then put one of his hands back on the wheel, the other on the gearshift.

Callen shrugged. "I just don't want to see you scratching your butt all day tomorrow. It's distracting."

"I was not–" Sam started to protest, then noticed Callen's pointed look at Sam's clenched fingers. He changed tack, starting the engine again, exclaiming, "I am not distracting! You think I'm distracting? You don't have to sit next to Deeks every day."

As they continued their banter, Sam revelled in the feeling of relief. His day hadn't started out great, and it hadn't improved with the case. But they had found Amanda, alive. They'd caught the culprits. Callen now knew of his coulrophobia, he knew about Bryan, and Sam's fear of losing his partner. But as it turned out, that wasn't a bad thing. He might even go so far as to admit - to himself - that it probably was a good thing Callen knew.

Callen might get on his nerves at times, but the man had his back, always.

"You know, I don't think that coffee is all that great either," Callen suddenly said. It almost had Sam slamming on the brakes again.

"You, what?!"

The End


A/N: Honestly not sure if Callen will end up telling Sam he supports that café despite the unspectacular quality of coffee because the café tends to offer small jobs for foster kids, knowing they might be moved at a short notice… But if he does, I'm sure Sam will on occasion still buy Callen a coffee from there. And maybe even endure one himself as well.

A/N2: The two quotes Sam and Callen are referring to are:

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." - Nelson Mandela (1994)

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear." - Franklin D. Roosevelt (1930)

And just because we're on the subject, here's one extra:

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear." - Mark Twain (1894)

A/N3: And then I read on Chris O'Donnell's IMDB profile: "Voted 'Most Likely to Run Off and Join the Circus' by his class at Loyola Academy." Which I hadn't been aware of when I wrote that part.