Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles or the characters. I'm just borrowing them. I make no money from this.

Author Note: This story just doesn't want to end. I thought it was going to be over two chapters ago but I keep getting ideas, such as with this chapter. Originally the furniture shopping was going to be part of this chapter but I found a great father/daughter bonding moment and it got pushed back to the next chapter. I have a great ending in mind but I need the interaction between Callen and Callie to reach a certain point to get there. So I have no idea how much longer this story will be.

Callen pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. Removing his seatbelt he turned to look at Callie, wondering what to do now. He didn't really want to wake her. He could carry her inside but he had no place to lay her down, except the floor. Even his bedroll was currently rolled up in the corner.

His dilemma solved itself as Callie chose that moment to stir. Shifting in her seat, she lifted one hand to rub at her eyes before looking around. "We here?" she asked.

"Yeah, this is my place." He watched as she glanced at the house, studying it.

"Looks nice," she said, opening the car door and climbing out. She stretched, wincing a little as the movement pulled at her bruises.

Callen took the opportunity to grab her bags from the trunk. "I thought we would drop your things off and then go out to eat for a late lunch before we go furniture shopping."

Callie glanced at him. "You don't have to do that," she told him as he led her to the door. "I can sleep on the couch or something."

"Actually, you can't," he started to say as he unlocked the door.

"Why not? It can't be that uncomfortable and I'm small enough that I can't be too big for it," she pointed out. It was at that moment that they entered the building and she got her first look at the inside. Her eyes widened as she stopped in her tracks. "You've been robbed," she said dazedly.

Callen quickly glanced around but nothing appeared to be disturbed. "No I wasn't."

Callie turned to look at him as he put her bags down against the wall. "You just moved in and your stuff hasn't arrived yet?"

He shook his head. "Been living here almost two years."

"The furniture's not invisible or anything, right?"

"Nope."

Callie's eyes swept over the nearly empty room once more, taking in the chair and lamp with a small pile of books beside them. "You're not one of those monks that think possessions are bad, are you?"

Callen couldn't help but laugh. "No, I'm definitely not a monk." He sighed as she continued to stand there with a confused look on her face. "You can see why we need to go shopping."

She turned to look at him. "The whole house is like this? Then where do you sleep?" she wondered.

"I've got a bedroll. Look, I know this seems strange but I've never really been big on owning stuff. I've spent most of my life shuffling from one place to another, living out of a bag or two, and I've become accustomed to not owning much," he explained.

Callie's face became thoughtful at his explanation. She guessed it made sense. "But then why did you buy a house? Why not just rent a small room or something?"

"Hetty," he said as if it explained everything. But she just looked at him in confusion. "I did just that, for the longest time. But living like that, I found myself constantly moving, never staying in one place for long. Hetty decided I needed to plant some roots, arranged for me to buy this house."

Callie decided to leave the fact that his boss was that involved in his personal life alone for the moment. She was more curious about something else. "So why this house?" There had to be a reason for him to buy this specific house. "I mean, you could always just sell it and move if you didn't want to be here. So what keeps you here?"

Callen ran his hand over his head, not really wanting to explain. But he knew that she deserved to know. Just as he was attempting to learn about her she also deserved to know who he was. "Come with me." He led her to her his room and opened the closet door.

"You liked the closet space?" she asked blankly as she glanced at his clothes hanging up inside it. She watched as he fingered something on the door and her gaze went to it. G. Callen '83. She studied the words carved into the door. "Well since I sincerely doubt you're over 80 years old, I guess that means you lived here before?"

Callen nodded. Sitting down against the wall, he gestured for her to join him.

She did, leaning into his side and sighing as he draped his arm over her shoulder.

"Yeah. You see, I grew up in foster care, I stayed here when I was 14. The family was really good to me, it was the longest I'd been in one place."

Callie turned to look at him. "How long?" she asked quietly.

"Three months."

She stared at him in shock. If that was the longest he'd stayed in one place then- "You weren't kidding when you said you moved around a lot."

"37 different foster homes."

"W-what about your family?"

"Dead. They died a long time ago."

Tears formed in her eyes. "I'm sorry." She hadn't meant to make him relive any bad memories.

"Not your fault," he told, squeezing her slightly. "Why don't I show you your room?" At her nod he rose and helped her to her feet. He led her to what used to be Alina's room.

Callie glanced around the room before looking at him again. She studied the look on his face as he was obviously lost in memories. "It's nice," she told him before asking, "who used to live here?"

Callen shook his head as he regarded her. She was definitely perceptive. "The Rostoffs, the family that I stayed here with, had a little girl named Alina. She's the one who taught me Russian. I called her моя младшая сестра."

"Little sister," she murmured softly. "Something happened to her?"

He sighed. "She was killed a few years ago. I bought the house not long after that."

"I'm sorry." She didn't know what else to say. So she wrapped her arms around him, trying to be there for him as he had been there for her today.

Callen smiled as he returned the embrace. After a long moment he took a step back. "We should get going if we want to get to the furniture store before they close. Besides, I'm starving and you must be as well since I doubt that doughnut was enough to fill you."

She shrugged but let him lead her out of the room and to the front door. She glanced again at the nearly empty front room, shaking her head. She'd never seen anyone with so few belongings. As she passed the doorway her eyes landed on the plant and a small box sitting on the mantle. She wondered what the story was behind them. She glanced at her father. Maybe she'd ask him later.

A short while later they found themselves seated at a diner, looking at a menu. "Anything look good to you?" Callen asked.

"I'm not really hungry," Callie told him as she put the menu aside.

He sighed. "I know, but you have to eat something or you're going to make yourself sick." He glanced at the menu. "How about this? I'll order the combo platter for two and we'll share it, okay? You just eat what you can. Anything we don't finish we'll have them pack up for us for later."

"Okay."

The waitress came and he placed their order. He studied the teenager carefully as they waited for the food. "So, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. All I know is that you're fourteen, apparently too brave for your own good, you like dogs, and you speak Gaelic and Russian."

"And Spanish," she added, a small smile on her face after his recitation. "Latin too, though I'm not fluent. I learned those in school."

"Well I knew you could curse in Spanish, after you laid into Granger. I doubt that was learned in the classroom."

Her smile widened. "You'd be surprised. I can also curse in Japanese, Italian and Mandarin." At his surprised look she laughed. "My school is very diverse. I would spend recess learning various insults and curses from students who spoke different languages."

"Why?" Callen was definitely curious. He thanked the waitress as she delivered their food. A smile formed on his face as he watched Callie absently pick up a cheeseburger slider and take a bite while she explained.

"Well other than the fact that I want to be able to really insult someone if they piss me off, I also want to know if I'm being insulted. There's also the fact that you can't learn all of the little things about a language in the classroom. You have to interact with native speakers, pick up their slang. Trading insults is a good way to do that."

He knew all of this of course, but he was surprised that she did. "You must be really good at picking up languages." Something she had probably inherited from him.

She blushed slightly. "I guess, I just like to be able to understand what people around me are saying."

"Nothing wrong with that. So, what's your favorite subject in school?" He decided to keep her talking. It seemed to be helping her with her appetite. He studied her intently as she spoke, learning about her from what she said and didn't say. Her expressions as she mentioned a subject she liked such as English literature, or one she didn't, like math. Slowly he was putting together a picture of just who his daughter was.

"So school's out now, right?" He asked, remembering Sam mentioning something about that the other day.

"Yep, summer vacation. Mom and I would normally make plans to take a trip somewhere, she liked to travel." And then her demeanor changed as she slumped in her seat, pushing the rest of the platter toward him. "I'm full, you can have the rest."

Callen mentally berated himself for bringing the subject up. It had just seemed like the next logical thing to say. He sighed as he looked at the remaining food. At least she had eaten something. "I'm done too," he told her, motioning for the waitress. "Can we get the rest of this boxed up? Thank you." He watched Callie as she picked at a crack in the table. Reaching out he placed his hand over hers. "I know it hurts, I wish there was something I could do to make it better."

She lifted her eyes to meet his and gave him a watery smile as she turned her hand over and squeezed his hand lightly. "You're already doing it. I don't think I would have gotten through today without you."

"I'm here for you, for as long as you need me. I'm not going anywhere." He watched as she took a deep breath and wiped her face with a napkin. The waitress returned with their packed food and he thanked her. Standing up, he left the money for the food and a generous tip with the bill, then reached down to help Callie to her feet. "Come on, we've got some furniture to buy."

She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "A brand new experience for you, I'm sure. Are you sure you're up to the challenge?"

He grinned down at her, glad to see her spark re-emerging. "And you must have had plenty of experience from the sounds of it. I guess I'll just have to trust you not to steer me wrong." Draping his arm over her shoulders he led her back to the car.