Upon their return to headquarters, Sam bee-lined for the bamboo armchair and newspaper, while Callen took off his boots and plunked down on the leather sofa. He was tired to the bone and the only thing he wanted was to lie down and take a long winter's nap. He hoped his partner wasn't planning to have an extended conversation on his medical condition as he was in no mood for it. Thinking tactical diversion, Callen threw a well-deserved complement, hoping to side track Sam just enough so he could fall asleep. "Nice job, Special Agent Hanna."
While Sam basked in the glow of the words of praise, Callen settled deeper into the couch and closed his eyes with a contented sigh. Peace and quiet descended upon lounge. Suddenly the large screen monitor in the corner of the room flashed to life with a close up picture of the irresistible and irrepressible Henrietta Lange.
"Mr. Hanna! What are you doing?" demanded the loud and somewhat strident voice of the operations manager. Sam bolted upright in his chair like an errant parishioner caught sleeping in church. "Mr. Hanna," the voice rang out impatiently for a second time. "This is not the time for daydreaming. You were given a directive by the EMT and I expect you to carry it out with all the attention to detail you do with any mission."
'Oh damn,' thought the groggy Callen who kept his eyes firmly shut. The omnipotent Hetty had somehow found out what the quack medic said. This did not bode well for his plans of a nice long siesta.
"For shame Mr. Hanna, letting Mr. Callen bamboozle you with same fancy words of praise so you would leave him alone to sleep. "
Since she had done it so many times in the past, Sam didn't even question how Hetty could have over-heard what Callen had said earlier; he just accepted it. He glared over at his partner who appeared to be fast asleep on the couch.
"I want the 24-hour watch carried out on Mr. Callen per the Doctor's orders," Hetty continued breaking Sam contemplations.
Sam swore he saw G flinch on the couch.
Hetty continued, "You will have the first watch since you are already in position. Mr. Beale, will you stop slinking behind that column."
Eric sheepishly walked in. "Sorry Sam, she made me switch her down here."
"I heard that Mr. Beale. You shall have the second watch. Kensi will do third shift and yours truly will take the final leg when I return from Washington. I have already called Kensi and apprised her of the situation. Are you gentleman clear on the mission at hand?"
Sam and Eric nodded wordlessly.
"Good. Now I suggest you go find your charge before he gets too far."
Sam and Eric quickly glanced over at the couch only to discover it was empty.
"And Mr. Hanna, you might want to think about the use of handcuffs." Hetty said with the slightest of smirks. The screen went blank and silence settled over the room.
"This isn't going to be easy is it," Eric stated plaintively.
"Nope," Sam concurred rising from the chair. "And Hetty might be right about the handcuffs."
"Really? You would actually handcuff Callen to like a pipe or something?"
"If the 'mission' calls for it. Come on. Lets' find him before he gets too far. If he gets out of this building we are toast."
The men headed off in opposite directions to search the building. Callen, who had only moved a few feet away behind an arch decided to go back and 'hide' on the couch. The building wasn't very big and he knew wherever he hid they would eventually find him. Therefore, he decided to hide in the last place they would look, the place they started. If he was lucky, he might catch a few minutes of sleep before the torture began.
NCISLA-NCISLA-NCISLA-NCISLA-NCISLA-NCISLA-NCISLA
Having turned headquarters inside out without finding Callen, Eric and Sam met back in the bullpen to discuss their next move.
"OK," Eric rambled. "We'll go check the tapes of the outside surveillance cameras. If Callen left the building, he was caught on camera. There is no way in or out of here that is not monitored. Then we will track his GPS. He probably still has his phone on him. Of course," Eric rattled on, "if he ditched his phone that could be a problem. Knowing Callen, he is smart and he would get rid of the phone ASAP so that probably is not a good way to go."
Sam thought he heard a faint noise coming from the lounge. Peering over Eric's shoulder, he spotted the source of the sound: his partner snoring peacefully on the brown leather sofa.
"Damn," Sam swore.
"No, no Sam," Eric blathered. "Don't worry. The cameras will work. No sweat. Well OK there might be a little work involved 'cause Callen does know how to disappear if he wants and he probably could avoid cameras, but hey, didn't you say he was hurt or something? So maybe he is not thinking clearly and…"
"Eric, forget it."
"I tell you this will work Sam. We just have too…"
"Eric," Sam said strongly. "Shut up and turn around."
Puzzled and a little hurt by Sam's dismissive tone, Eric reluctantly did as he was instructed and saw Callen sleeping on the couch.
"Oh," Eric said flatly. "Maybe we won't need the cameras after all."
"No, perhaps not," Sam agreed. "Get up G," he growled as he walked over to poke the prone man on the couch.
"Go to hell," came the muffled reply.
Eric took a few steps away from what he judged was soon to become a war zone.
"I'm going to ask you one more time nicely G…get up."
Eric could not hear Callen's reply, but judging by the expression on Sam's face it was not the appropriate response. Eric felt like a moth drawn to a flame, dying to see how this was going to play out, yet not really wanting to be close enough that he was caught in the crossfire. Involuntarily, he took another step… backwards.
"Now listen here G. Hetty has given me a direct order and you know what, I am not in the mood to disobey her and get myself a new one ripped over your sorry hide. If it comes down to deciding who is scarier, Hetty, or you, I'm sorry but Hetty wins. Now sit up or I am going to drag you up by the scruff of your neck."
Callen lay there debating how far he could push his partner. Sam was sounding serious with mild undertones of stress building in his voice. G decided he probably should not press his luck any further so with a grunt, he rolled over and slowly sat up.
Eric let out a loud sigh of relief, which earned him a sharp glance of disapproval from Sam and Callen.
"Ah right. Well I'm just going to…since it is not my turn…like go upstairs for now… until it is my turn to babysit," Eric prattled earning him a scarier glare from Callen. "I didn't mean babysit in the true sense of the word. You know but like… Ah I think I'll leave now." The techie ran up the stairs like the wind.
Callen switch his gaze from the retreating back of Eric to Sam. "I'm up," he said petulantly. "Are you happy?"
Sam grunted. Both fellows glared at each other in a battle of wills before Sam finally broke the silence. "Are you going to behave?"
"Behave?" Callen echoed back innocently.
"Yes. Behave. Stay awake. Not cause problems. Not be a pain in my butt for the next," Sam consulted his watch, "12 hours."
"Need to brush up on your math skills there pal," Callen said putting his feet back up on the couch "Your watch ends in 6 hours."
"How stupid do you think I am G?" Sam snorted. "No way am I turning you over to Eric. No telling where you would get off too and that would traumatize the kid." Sam saw a flicker of resentment in Callen's eyes for having his next move already countered.
"It is you and me for the next 12 hours and then the hand off to Kensi. I know she can keep you in place. And then of course the final leg with Hetty," he said with a broad smile.
"You don't have to be so damn cheerful about it," Callen grumbled.
Sam couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he walked over to the couch and swatted G's feet back onto the floor. Callen grunted but made no move to reposition his feet again. Satisfied, Sam crossed back to the armchair. "Ok, what shall we do?" he asked as he sat down.
Callen settled back into the cushions, arms across his chest defiantly. "You're the tour director on this ride. You tell me."
"Would you like to read the newspaper?"
"No. I have a headache."
"OK, how about paperwork. I'm sure you have some to catch up on."
"HeadACHE."
"Well what about food. I am starving."
"Nausea. "
"But I'm hungry," Sam insisted.
Callen stared Sam straight in the eye. "You so much as eat a cracker in front of me and I promise you I will vomit all…over…you!"
"Well you should drink; your are probably dehydrated"
"Sure. Beer. Cold."
"Water," Sam returned pushing out of the chair heading towards the kitchen.
"Sam," Callen whined.
"OK. I'm a good sport. I'll find some nice ginger ale. That is soothing. My mother always gave me ginger ale when I did not feel well."
"You're not my mother," G grumbled.
"You didn't have a mother. You were raised by wolves," Sam shot back.
"Oh nice. Kick me when I am down, anything else you'd like to add to hurt my feelings some more." Callen quizzed.
"No. I'm good," Sam replied walking out of sight.
Callen sat on the couch thinking forget this crap. He was so out of here. He started to get to his feet when a wave of dizziness dropped him right back down. Before he could get his wits about him to make a second attempt, Sam came back in the room bearing a glass of ginger ale.
Sam walked over and placed the glass on the side table near the couch. Reaching into his back pocket he swiftly removed a pair of handcuffs and chained Callen's right wrist to the metal scrollwork behind the couch. It was over before Callen could blink.
When it dawned on him what his partner had just done, Callen was stunned. "I can't believe you did this!" he said shaking the handcuff and rattling the ironwork.
"I told you not to go anywhere and you didn't listen."
"I didn't go anywhere."
"Yeah, but you tried. It is not my fault you did not succeed," Sam finished as he sauntered back to his armchair.
Callen shook the handcuff again. "This is so not comfortable. And you cuffed my right hand. How am I supposed to drink the soda? I'm right-handed."
"Adapt."
"What if I have to go to the bathroom? And don't you dare tell me to adapt. Are you going to keep me chained here all night?"
"Only 'til Kensi gets here. Then it is her problem how to contain you. "
"What did I ever do to you," Callen sulked.
"Now that would be one way to kill the next," Sam checked his watch, "11 hours and 15 minutes. Listing all the ways, you have wronged me. Shall we do it chronologically or alphabetically?"
Looking defeated, Callen sank back on the couch.
Sam features and tone soften. "We are concerned for you G."
Callen's eyes softened, trying to accept but having a hard time pushing past all those years of being a non-entity and the associated walls he built to protect himself. With a fair degree of sincerity he softly replied, "Thanks."