Author's Note: I really hope I didn't make our boys too mushy in this chapter…I was in kind of a mushy mood when I wrote it. :/ Anyway; is response to some questions I was asked: I am planning an Eric/Nell reaction, a group reaction, and Hetty's observations –where we will see some different one-on-one reactions I didn't want to give a full chapter to. I hope you guys are still enjoying the story, and reviews are my lifeblood! :)

Sam leaned casually against the wall watching Callen clean his gun with vicious force. Callen didn't even look up when Sam entered, just sat his gun down on the table and leaned into his fists on the table top.

"She knows I hate that. She knows how much I hate that." Callen growled, slamming a hand down flat. Sam didn't respond immediately, and Callen continued. "Why does she play with my head like that? How does she play with my head like that?" Callen seemed to calm down as he considered that. "Every time. I know what she is trying to get out of me, I try not to let it slip, and yet she still gets it out of me!"

Sam finally walked over to his partner. "You know…showing emotion every now and then doesn't make you lose any authority with us. You could do it more often."

Callen shot an icy glare at Sam. "That isn't why I don't talk and you know it."

"Yeah, I know it." Sam couldn't resist teasing him. "After all, I know everything about you."

"Not everything." Callen corrected sharply, but a smile played across his face. "But what you do know apparently frustrates you." He added, and Sam caught a slight hurt in his voice.

Sam laughed in surprise. "Were you really offended by me saying that?"

"No." Callen snapped, and Sam laughed again. "Yes, you were."

Callen just looked at Sam piercingly. "Well, you meant it."

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, you frustrate me. But only because you refuse to take care of yourself. You do a great job of keeping everyone else safe, you need to-"

Callen held up a hand. "How many times do I have to say 'you are my partner, not my mother.'?"

Sam chuckled. "Thank God."

Callen frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Could you imagine if I was your mother? I'd go grey before my time."

"You don't have any hair!" Callen protested good-naturedly. "You shave yourself bald!"

"Why do you think that is?" Sam said pointedly, but teasingly. "Hanging around you, it would just fall out on its own."

"Am I that bad?" Callen seemed honestly concerned.

Sam nodded. "You have no idea. Do you know how stressful it is to have a partner who keeps trying to be a lone wolf?"

Callen turned away and started field stripping his gun again. "Lone wolves protect the pack." There was a strange tone in his voice.

Sam cocked his head. "What?"

"Lone wolves draw hunters and predators away from the pack. They are too dangerous themselves to be a part of the pack, but they still protect it in a roundabout way." Callen explained, surveying his spotless weapon.

"That's bull and you know it." Sam said reprovingly. "Lone wolves are selfish; they refuse to see that the pack defends itself best when all the members work together. If the lone wolf could see that pulling back actually hurts the pack, I would hope he would stop it." Sam stopped for breath. "And if that is what is going on in that hard head of yours, you can forget it. We don't need protecting from anything, least of all from you." He stopped. "Are you laughing?"

Callen finally stopped trying to hold in his mirth. "Sam…" He gasped out between peals of laughter. "You sure know how to beat a metaphor to death." He finally stopped laughing enough to look calm. His shoulders were still shaking slightly. "I had no idea you felt so…strongly against wolves."

"Not wolves. Lone wolves." Sam held up a finger. "There is a difference." He frowned. "Do you really feel like I come after you with a battering ram?"

Callen looked embarrassed. "Sometimes, yeah." He shrugged. "But I guess that's part of being partners, right? Dragging the deepest, darkest secrets out of each other all the time? Even when it hurts?"

Sam didn't know how to respond to that. "I only do it because-"

"You care, I know." Callen shrugged again and turned away.

Callen and Sam fell into silence while Sam started cleaning his own gun. Callen walked to the gun rack and seemed to be counting the guns. Seemingly satisfied, he moved on to the next one. Sam finally spoke quietly.

"G, I'll try to give you more space, okay? No promises, but I'll try." He turned his gun over, but his eyes were not on the firearm.

Callen answered. "And I'll try to take better care of myself." He turned around and smiled.

Sam prompted him. "And be less of a lone wolf?"

"Well, like you said. No promises." Callen grinned and ducked as Sam threw a rag at him. He howled theatrically. "I always thought we needed a mascot."

"I show you mascot." Sam threatened, but was interrupted by his cell phone beeping. "It's Eric. Says he wants us up in the operations center. Something important."

"Another case?" Callen said, eyes lighting up.

Sam shrugged, and fell into perfect step with his partner as they headed to the com room. He didn't know what his life would have been like without Callen as his partner-infuriating though he may be-but he was thankful he never had to find out.