Thanks for the reviews!

Title: Nowhere Man

Rating: M

Warning: Non-consensual sex, rape. G/OCs

Story Details and Full Disclaimer in Chapter 1: My stories are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. This is a work intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

Reviews appreciated and welcomed

Bait, Again

Chapter 12

The plan was too familiar. Part of him loathed the idea of placing himself in harm's way again. Another part of him deserved every ounce of punishment the enemy wished to exact on him. After all, he murdered Serghei in cold-blood with his bare hands.

Due to the discovery of the Baboescu's ability to scan the ear comm links, G and his team had to rely on hand signals and pre-arranged signals and cell phones. He was glad. More punishment G believed he deserved, problems with the teams' communication. With each new problem thrown against the team, he took it on and carried the guilt.

If he had not murdered Livia and Serghei his day would have been filled with much needed sleep and getting to know his father.

In the archive room, G packed his gear into a small duffle bag and afterward slung it over his left shoulder. He stood by his partner waiting for him to finish packing his gear.

"Nothing to do?"

"What?"

"Bored and need to watch me," Sam said.

G sighed. "Nerves, that's all."

He raised his eyes and met his partner's. "Liar."

"Okay, you caught me."

"Guilt, you need to let it go."

"More accurately, self-condemnation."

"Same thing."

G crossed his arms and glared at his partner.

"What? You want me to lie to you?"

"You ready?"

"Aw, it's the bait and switch game," Sam said getting up from the weapons cleaning bench. He zipped up his duffle bag and slung it over his right shoulder. "Did you have a good talk with your father?"

"Sort of."

"And?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

"My name, right, is that all you want to know?"

"It's burning my ears."

G eyed his partner's ears. "Don't look singed to me." He strode toward the exit.

Sam followed him and chuckled. "You are a funny guy."

"You too." G faced him and smirked. "It's an initial."

He shook his head. "Of course it is."

"No, I mean, it is an initial and meant to be that way."

"You are serious?"

"I've no reason to lie to you."

"Your father gives you an initial for your first name and you don't think that's strange."

"It's not my first name."

"The plot thickens."

"Would work if this was a story I'm telling but it's not," G said smirking. "It's his name and he named that way me to protect our identities."

"From the Comescues?"

"Yes." G headed out the exit.

"Wait, let's finish this."

"We need to go."

"You are not getting off that easy," Sam said, grasping his partner's duffle bag and turning him in his direction. "Tell me your first name."

"You probably won't like it."

"Try me."

"Dimitri."

"I like it and it fits you."

"But what?"

"I'm calling you G."

He shook his head. "Why I bother telling you in the first place is beyond me." The corners of his mouth turned upward. "Officially my name is Gregory Dimitri Callen."

"Wait a minute, you just said—"

He strode through the exit. Without looking back at his partner he said, "I wanted to try it on for size."

"I'm going to try you on for size." Sam followed him into the hallway joining the main area of NCIS Headquarters. "You played me so well."

"Like a well worn fountain needing an overhaul," he said, stopping at his desk and loading up his pants pockets with his keys, ID, and wallet.

"Don't push it," he said.

"Are you finally going to find a fountain and drown me in it?"

"Are we starting that again?"

"Did we finish it the last time?"

"You got me."

"And?"

"I owe you one."

"Maybe you'll make good on your promise this time."

"Is that why you arranged to meet them at a spot with a fountain?"

"Precisely." G smirked. "Ready for the preliminaries at the boat house?"

"I like the sound of your name as it rolls off your tongue."

"Right, you haven't even said it."

"To myself about ten times already, Gregory Dimitri Callen."

"Don't wear it out." G smirked.

They strode toward the Challenger.

"Police escort?" G asked, walking out into the courtyard. He scanned the area and down the hill toward the street. "No where in sight."

"Odd."

They both grabbed their weapons and edged along the building until they had a clear visual of the street below.

"Crap, no police escort." G took in a deep breath and released it with a shaky sigh. "But we might have a Baboescu family escort. Who tipped them off?" He kept his voice lowered.

"Maybe they're tracking more than the comm links."

"Plans?" G eyed his partner.

"I'm going to miss that fountain dunk."

"I'll make it up to you, somehow, somewhere, someday."

"You hope."

"I take it that means you are out of options." G pointed to the headquarters' door.

They scrambled back to the door and slipped inside using only hand signals to communicate. Sam told G he would take the upper level. After locking the doors, they each started out on their appointed rounds searching every room for signs of an intruder or intruders.

Thirty minutes later, they reported back to each other without any signs of the Baboescu family.

G wrote on a slip of paper. "Maybe we're not surrounded as we believe."

"New theory." Sam answered him back.

"Make our way to the boat house without using the Challenger."

"Good plan." Sam wrote. "Your car?"

"Let's take a car they never saw before." G crossed the room to Hetty's desk and rummaged through her key sets searching for the one which would fit the bill — the fastest and least likely to be recognized. He held up the keys.

Sam mouthed to him. "She'll kill you."

"If I get a scratch on it." G pocketed the keys and strode toward one of Hetty's prized possessions. "You drive." He mouthed.

Sam shook his head. "Where's a fountain when you need one?" He grinned.

They edged out the side door weapons drawn and readied. Sam crouched low in the bushes and came around to the opposite side of the car. G slinked around to the passenger's side. Sam wedged himself into the Jaguar E-Type XKE. It was not his height but his bulk that caused the most problem for him.

"Next time—"

"If there is one?"

"There better be, you are driving this car."

Finally situated and comfortable in the car, Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. "Now Hetty can rip me a new one." He took off down the driveway toward the street but stopped short of it scanning the road in both directions.

"Looking for—crap!"

"G!" Sam pressed the gas pedal clear to the floor and cut across all four lanes of the street barely missing several cars. He glanced at his partner. "G?"

"Just drive, damn it, drive." He shoved his right hand hard against his lower rib cage.

"You okay?"

"Stop asking me questions and get us there and out of here, fast."

"Do I need to make a detour for the hospital?"

"Don't you dare, keep going, man, don't stop, don't let them catch up to us." G panted and winced. The last thing he wanted to do was look at the wound a bullet made in his side. Yet it was a necessity. G needed to discover the damage it did to him. He lifted his hand and held back the string of profanities he wanted to spew out. It smarted bad, real bad. Not good. G pulled up his shirt and blood poured out of a deep gash in his side. This is the last thing I need right now. The last thing.

"How's it looking?" Sam eyed him.

"Just pay attention to your driving."

"History repeating itself." He smirked.

"Not quite."

"What?" His right eyebrow raised upward.

"No Challenger." G opened his duffle bag and searched the contents for something he could use as a pressure bandage.

"Try mine, first aid kit."

He drew the duffle bag from the behind the seat onto his lap and almost passed out from the action. Broken ribs. Great, no, not great. G unzipped his partner's duffle bag and searched through it.

"Bottom left hand corner."

"That's exact."

"Navy SEALs."

"Yes, thought you were going to say that." He found the first aid kit right where his partner told him it was.

"What do you need?"

"Just drive, damn it, let me do this." G gritted his teeth, the pain had worsened two-fold. He located a bandage roll and pulled off a wad of the rolled gauze big enough to stuff inside the gaping hole in his side. Now he needed to deal with the pain of stuffing the rolled gauze into the wound. G took in a deep breath and released it slow emptying his lungs. He shoved the gauze into the gaping hole and stifled a scream.

"You okay?"

"Why?" G asked breathless close to passing out.

"White as a—"

"Quit it, damn it, I can't focus." He shoved it harder and grabbed the strips of tape he had cut. G plastered his side with strip after strip of tape securing the gauze in the hole. After he finished, G curled up on the seat and panted trying to lessen the waves of pain surging throughout his right side.

"You don't look good."

"How should I look after getting shot?"

"We're going to the hospital."

"No!"

"You better not die on me."

"Didn't happen the first time, and it's not going to happen this time." He tried to slow his breaths. "Just drive, Sam, come on, get us there."

"I'm doing 90 in a 60 mph zone, is that fast enough for you?"

"Did you lose our tail?"

"First thing."

"You mean you couldn't do it before I got shot?" G smirked.

"You and your wicked sense of humor." Sam took the next exit off the freeway and doubled back the way they came.

"Now you are driving in circles."

"Had to lose the tail and prevent them from finding the boat house."

"Smart man."

"Just keep your head down and rest."

"Thanks for the advice doctor." G chuckled even though it hurt like hell.

Sam pulled into the parking lot at the boat house and parked in front of the ramp. He rushed around to the passenger side of the car and helped his partner out of it. "Hetty is going to rip us a both a new one."

"I certainly am gentlemen, what in blazes… Mr. Callen—" Her jaw dropped when she saw his bloodied, sky blue t-shirt. "Get him inside."

Sam helped G into the building and laid him on the couch. "Don't move and I need to see that wound."

"Remember, you only play a doctor." G winced when his partner lifted his t-shirt.

"Lie back and let me look."

"I don't need a doctor."

"You do, Mr. Callen, let your partner take care of you."

"He's not a doctor."

"A nurse maid then." Sam chuckled.

"Damn, don't make me laugh, it hurts." G laid down on his left side.

"What the hell kind of bullet is in here?" Sam asked. "This is going to hurt bad."

"Great, I know what you are going to do, undo what I just fixed."

"It's got to be done, G, ready?" He yanked on the rolled gauze stuffed in the deep gash with tweezers pulling it completely out of the wound.

"Bastard!"

"Easy, man."

"Easy? That felt as if you stuck a red hot poker inside it." G tried to calm his breathing.

"One more nasty bit of pressure." Sam reached into the gash with the long tweezers and pulled out an odd piece of paper rolled up like a scroll.

G spied the paper scroll. "Give it to me."

"Like hell I will." He laid it on the coffee table out his partner's reach.

"It came out me and it belongs to—"

"Stuff it, man!"

Hetty brought over another first aid kit. Sam removed the betadine solution bottle from it.

G's eyes widened when he saw the label on it. "Don't put that crap on me it stings like hell."

"Here it comes." Sam poured it over the wound.

G gritted his teeth and clenched a pillow with both fists. "Do that again and I'll—"

"Once more." He covered the wound in the solution.

"Damn it, that's wicked," he said breathless. "Next time, I'll pour it all over your wound."

"That I've got to see," Sam said, "you are the one getting wounded all the time."

"Great, just great."

Hetty donned a pair of gloves and opened the scrolled paper. Her jaw dropped wide open. She fell into the chair next to the couch.

"Hetty, what is it?"

"They have your father, again."

"What?" G attempted to sit up and Sam pushed him back down on the couch. "Where?"

"NCIS Headquarters."

"Wait a minute, we checked the entire building and no one was there."

"They must've waited until we left," Sam said.

"What did I tell you?" G said. "They want me. I'm the bait, again, and they won't be satisfied until I'm in their custody."

"This time they'll follow through on their plans," Hetty said. "Do you have any idea what those are?"

I do not want to even think about those plans.

"G?"

"I'm not ready to talk about that."

"We don't have much time," Hetty said. "We need to devise a counter stratagem to foil their plan."

"Impossible."

"Come on, G."

"No, I'm serious, there's nothing to combat their plan."

"Mr. Hanna, let us have the room."

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