Author's Note: Thank you to all who have kept up with this story. It seems every update I intend to make takes longer than I originally planned. I still promise all readers that every story I write will be finished. Thank you to all who have read and appreciated this story, whether you have reviewed or not.
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The ice water hit her like a gunshot (and she felt confident using that phrase, now that she actually knew the harsh reality of a bullet wound). Her lungs froze in the process of giving her air, and she tried valiantly to breathe something that wasn't liquid. She surged upwards in panicked terror, dragging in air before she inevitably crashed under the water again. She pulled at the ties holding her hands together, but they held firm.
She kicked violently, more than she needed to get to the surface again, expending energy she couldn't afford to waste. She reached out, latching onto the only thing nearby, which happened to be Walsh – and didn't her day keep getting worse?
"Get off me!" He sputtered, flailing wildly, and almost managed to dislodge her, but she was able to get her arms around his neck and hold on. As a result, he kept sinking under the water, a fact which panicked her each time since it meant she could be drawn under, too. She couldn't risk letting go, though.
Above his yelling and the two of them struggling in the water, she heard shouts and gunfire from above them on the dock. The drop hadn't been that far, only a few feet, and she thought if she could get over to the edge of the dock, she could grab hold and maybe pull herself up. Walsh apparently had the same idea, since he was not only struggling to escape her, but to get to the dock himself.
She pulled him in the opposite direction as well as she could, figuring that once he got a foothold, his first order of business would be to drown her.
They struggled for what felt like ages, but must have only been a few minutes, because if it had been much longer she knew they'd both have gone under from exhaustion.
"Nell! Move away so I can shoot him!"
She blinked the water out of her eyes to see Deeks at the edge of the pier, gun trained on them as he hesitated (and he damn well better, because if he shot her, she just might shoot him back once she got the chance).
"Yeah, good idea!" She choked out, inhaling some water for the effort. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Are you being sarcastic with me right now?" Deeks asked, incredulous. "You're right, you've got this under control, I'll just wait up here until –"
Walsh managed to aim in the general direction of Deeks and fire his gun. It missed by a significant distance.
"Whoa, man, you could have hit me!"
Walsh didn't dignify that with a response, though he did choose that moment to try another tactic and took a deep breath, submerging himself in a last ditch attempt to shake off Nell.
It worked, because she tried her damndest to stay afloat when he disappeared. She managed, with her last bit of energy, to cross the few remaining feet to the dock's edge, as Deeks scanned the water uneasily, waiting for Walsh to reemerge; he didn't.
"Don't help me out or anything," she gasped, clinging to a slightly warped board and feeling as if she'd never get enough air again.
He didn't get a chance to respond, because Callen stepped up next to him. "Hey, Nell," he said brightly, dropping to his knees and reaching a hand down for her. "You picked a hell of a time to go for a swim."
She didn't curse him out solely because it would have taken too much oxygen.
He pulled her up and she pushed with her feet against the boards, which sent her surging forward and she toppled onto him at the edge of the dock, causing him to fall. She coughed for a few minutes, trying to get all the water out of her lungs and restore her breathing to normal.
She was soaking wet, and cold, which meant he now must feel the same, since she was on top of him. He didn't stay a word, merely rubbed her back lightly and waited for her to regain herself.
"Jesus, Callen." She finally managed, once she could take a breath without feeling like her lungs were going to seize up on her. "Where were you? I was waiting for you to jump in the water and rescue me."
"I was a little preoccupied," he admitted, "…shooting people." He glanced around, and she followed his gaze. A few of Walsh's men lay around the dock with various injuries, along with others she didn't recognize (the mysterious drug traffickers?).
He sat up, bringing her with him, which meant she was sprawled rather ungraciously in his lap – not that she cared. She had other things to think about, like how she kept narrowly avoiding death, and how she had a pretty good streak going, and how luck only lasted so long.
She glanced up at Callen, and then over to where Deeks, Kensi, and Sam hovered nearby, and thought luck might have nothing to do with it.
She barely noticed when he took a pocketknife to cut the bindings around her wrists, rubbing them for a minute. They were a little red, but there was no lasting damage. Not physically, anyway; just another nightmare to add to her already growing count.
"I would have jumped in," he said, when it became clear she wasn't going to speak, "but they had me pinned down for a minute. I thought it'd be more prudent to stay alive long enough to get to you."
She looked up at him and though his tone was light, she caught the fear and regret in his words. She had no doubt that if he thought he could have gotten to her safely, he would have.
She smiled, which seemed to reassure him.
"If you want," he added, "I can toss you back in. We can have another go at it."
"Jerk," she muttered, struggling to stand. He realized her intentions and held her down, or rather, against him. His arms wrapped around her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe again, but she'd rather pass out than ask him to let go. She didn't imagine the tremor she felt in him, and she opened her mouth to speak, but lost the ability when he pressed his face into the side of her neck, his breath shaky and uneven.
All she could do was hold onto him in return, and she jerked in surprise when she realized her own arms were trembling, too.
"I thought you were dead," he murmured into her skin. "I saw you go over and I thought…you were gone."
"Takes more than a nighttime dip in the ocean to kill me, Agent Callen." She addressed him formally, slightly teasing. She wanted to make him laugh again. If he laughed, that meant he was okay.
He didn't laugh. "Are you okay?" His voice was low, unintentionally echoing her thoughts about him.
He must not know that the only way she would be okay was if he were okay. "How are you?" She asked, in lieu of answering his question, leaning back so she could really look at him.
He shook his head slowly. "Not that good."
She smiled again, tremulously, to try and fight the tears pricking at her eyes. "Yeah, I got that."
They met each other's eyes, for how long she didn't know, until Deeks cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt…"
Flashing blue lights illuminated the docks. Local police had arrived without either of them noticing. They both stood, spell broken, and if Nell had to lean slightly against Callen, neither of them mentioned it.
Kensi brought both of them blankets and told them the paramedics wanted to see Nell. She declined, and could tell Callen wanted to argue.
"In a minute," she relented, and noticed some of the tension left him at her words.
"Hey Nell," Deeks rubbed at the back of his neck, as if unsure of the wisdom in continuing. "It was hard to tell from where I was standing, but…did you stab him?"
She laughed, entirely against her will. "Yeah, with a pen."
"Where did you come up with that idea?" Deeks asked, impressed.
"Improvisation?" She tried.
"A pen?" Kensi interrupted, incredulous.
"It was the only thing I had on hand," Nell shrugged. "It didn't go that well." At their blank looks, she amended. "It was ball point."
"Should have used a fountain pen," Deeks said, helpfully.
She assessed him with fond exasperation. "I'll remember that next time."
"I'm just saying," he started, as Kensi pulled him none too gently away, and Nell sent her a silent prayer of thanks.
"Teams have spread out up and down the docks," Sam said, approaching them. "Divers are heading out to search for any sign of Walsh. Nothing yet."
Callen nodded. "I figured as much. I don't think he's going to be found until he wants to be found."
Nell shivered a little and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
Callen stepped closer and tucked some wayward strands of hair behind her ear, and she felt warmer. "He's not going to get to you again."
She recognized his words as both a promise to her and a threat to Walsh. "I know," she said, without a hint of wavering, "this time I'll be ready."
From his look, she knew that wasn't the answer he'd expected, but when he smiled slowly at her, she knew he approved.
"Where did you..." he gestured somewhere behind them, (and she knew he was indicating the previous events, not the way Deeks was irritating his former LAPD co-workers by exaggerating his own importance in the stand-off) "…learn that? Have you been taking self-defense classes or something?"
"No, just late night cable," she admitted. "Kill Bill has been running for the past month. It didn't look that hard."
"The way Uma Thurman successively offs each one of her rivals in that movie 'didn't look that hard'?" He could barely get the words out with a straight face.
She grinned, maybe her first real grin since before she'd been abducted. "No, it didn't look hard," she ducked her head, before adding, "but apparently it was hard."
He abruptly pulled her into another hug, and she felt a surge of affection, which she suspected was mirrored in him.
"Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "Thank you, thank you, thank –"
"For?" She cut him off.
"Saving yourself."
"It didn't work out quite how I imagined," she admitted, unable to tear her eyes away from the water. Walsh had escaped, despite her best efforts. "I wanted to kill him," she said quietly.
"I wish you had."
She shook her head. "No, Callen. I wanted him to die. I wanted to feel him die at my own hands. What does that make me?"
He didn't answer.
"Someone who could willingly commit murder?" She asked, reminded of how lost she'd been after she'd been shot, how angry and hurt she'd felt. How it made her different from the person she'd been before. And now… "What does this make me? Who does this make me?"
A half dozen thoughts floated through his mind. He couldn't adequately categorize what he thought of her. There were too many words, it was too much for him to process. She was determined, furious, beautiful. She was one of the most brilliant people he'd ever met. She had an unerring sense of justice and fairness. She'd protect others no matter the cost, even to herself. More than anything else…
"You are the person you've always been," he said vehemently. "You've simply never realized, before, the depths within you, the things of which you are capable, that which you can accomplish with enough provocation. You are unlike anyone I have ever known."
She automatically started to shake her head, in denial of something he'd said, or everything, and he cut her off. "Nell, don't you dare argue the fact that you are extraordinary."
She blinked, her face warming, and was grateful the darkness hid her blush. Before she could respond, he was continuing.
"I'm sorry," he said haltingly. "You don't know how sorry, that I had to…pretend that…"
It took her a moment to realize that he was referring to how he had feigned disinterest in her well-being, acting as if he didn't care about her. She knew why he did it, that he was looking for the best way out, for everyone. That didn't mean it hadn't hurt, but then, she knew it was supposed to.
He took her silence as condemnation. "If there had been any other way –"
"You don't have to," she said, forgiving him with those words, for something he'd had no choice over. "Have enough faith in me to believe that I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt me."
Her eyes widened fractionally when he leaned in to kiss her, and it was as if he never had before (and maybe, if she correctly interpreted the emotions he was trying to convey, he hadn't). He claimed her, his touch searing, causing her to shiver at the newly perceived coldness she felt everywhere that wasn't touching him.
Despite everything they'd been through, and all they'd experienced before now, this still surprised her – that she stirred such emotions in him, that he could feel –
Because she was just Nell, just…
She swallowed those feelings as best she could, trying to banish the self-doubt, the fear that she'd never be good enough for someone like him. She cast it aside, and focused on the present, and melted, completely, and maybe she would have been embarrassed at any other time, but she didn't have it in her. Not in this moment, tonight, with him. She was thrilled to be alive, and equally thrilled that he was safe, too. She pressed back into him as eagerly as he met her, sighing into his mouth, trying to tell him (in case he had somehow missed it) that she forgave him for everything, and always would.
She had no choice when it came to him, and that terrified a part of her – the part still concerned with self-preservation.
They were interrupted by a uniform before they could get too carried away. "Agent Garner wants to speak with you, ma'am," he told Nell, and she had no idea who that was, but she didn't care.
Callen leaned back, framing her face with his hands. "Are you okay?" He asked, again.
She took time to truly consider his question, examining him as carefully as he studied her. He was alright, now, she knew that much. She felt it. And that meant… "I am," she swore. "I'm actually okay."
After the past few weeks, she had no idea how in the world that was true, but it was. She strongly suspected that it mostly had to do with the man in front of her.
And wasn't that something.
Nell allowed a small smile to grace her lips, and when Callen kissed it away, she didn't mind.
She was riding a post-adrenaline rush, high on the fact that she'd gotten away, and lived, and so had everyone she cared about, and she also had a very strong suspicion that she might be in love. When Callen brought her over to one of the waiting ambulances, she didn't protest.
He left her with a lingering kiss and went to talk to Sam. Kensi came a few minutes later to check on her.
She reassured her she was going to be fine, and that she was well on her way to recovery. It had been twenty minutes, maybe, since she'd been pulled from the water. Her clothes were starting to dry in the most uncomfortable way.
Kensi's phone rang, and Nell barely paid any attention when she answered, instead indulging in one of her new favorite pastimes, which was scanning the area for Callen. She found him thirty feet away, deep in conversation with Sam and some local law enforcement officers.
"Who is this?" Kensi asked sharply, breaking into Nell's haze of contentment. "I will not put her on the phone!"
Nell held out her hand, indicating that Kensi should follow the order. They both knew who it was.
Kensi looked about to protest, before sighing and handing over the phone, recognizing any clues Nell could get might help them find Walsh.
Nell held the phone to her ear, hesitating for a moment. "Yes?" She finally managed.
"This isn't over," Walsh said. He didn't sound angry, or frustrated, or like he wanted to kill her where she stood, which somehow made his words all the more intimidating. Rage was easy to understand, but cold, calculated threats were much harder to accept. It made her think he'd just as easily murder her as he might order a cup of coffee in the morning.
"I never thought it was over," she whispered to Walsh. She heard the minute sounds of breathing on the other end of the phone before the connection was cut.
She shook her head, wondering if Walsh honestly thought he was able to scare her at this point. He unsettled her, sure, but scared her? She had passed that point days ago. Now the only thing she felt was…numbness.
It kind of worried her, actually.
She gave Kensi her phone back, ignoring the look on the other woman's face that said she was dying to know what Walsh had said but was holding herself back out of respect for the night Nell had just gone through. Kensi wouldn't wait long though, and once she told the others…forget it. She'd be attacked with questions from every direction. She'd never escape.
That meant Nell had to get out of there as quickly as possible. She was honestly ready to throw in the towel on the whole night – the whole week – no, make it the whole month.
Kensi was still watching her. "I'm just going to…" Nell nodded in Callen's direction and Kensi smiled in understanding. Nell started to walk in his direction, glancing back a few times until Kensi had turned away, and then quickly darted to the left between several emergency vehicles. If she had a choice, she'd actually be going to speak with Callen, but she wasn't looking forward to his questions any more than the rest of her team's.
Was it asking too much for a night to herself after everything she'd gone through?
Tomorrow, she swore. Tomorrow she'd sit down with whoever wanted to speak with her, and she'd tell them everything she could. Right now, all she wanted was some time alone. Kind of ironic, actually, considering that in the past week, she'd spent 99% of the time by herself and all she'd wanted, then, was someone else with her.
Why was it that now, the only thing she wanted was to get away from everyone else?
Her escape was cut short by two people stepping abruptly into her path, a man and woman, both dressed way too formally for hanging around a pier at 3:17 in the morning. She knew before they spoke that they were agents, though she couldn't tell from which agency (weren't they all the same, when you got right down to it?)
"Nell Jones?" The man asked, as if he might be mistaken about her identity; as if there were a dozen women strolling around the docks who were on the relatively short side and had red hair and were wrapped up in hypothermia blankets.
"No, she's actually over there," Nell pointed at Kensi.
The man frowned, obviously unamused. "Ms. Jones," he said sternly, as if this were school and he could lecture her into obedience.
"If you know who I am, then why are you asking?" She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, wishing it could make her invisible.
She watched the man and woman exchange glances for a moment before the woman sighed. "We need to ask you some questions," the woman said, sounding reluctant. She must have lost their silent exchange.
"Who are you?" Nell asked.
Another exchange of glances. "We're with the FBI," the man told her, neglecting to mention his name.
"Agent Garner, then?" She asked, noting his blink of surprise that indicated she was right on the mark.
"If you'd come with us," he continued, neither confirming nor denying her statement, which meant he had to be Garner.
Oh hell no. She knew enough about shadowy government figures to not willingly jump into a car with one of them.
"Sorry, but I have plans tonight. Maybe another time?"
She turned to head back toward her team, but the woman quickly stepped in front of her. "It's a matter of national security."
Nell bit back the urge to scream. "Everything's a matter of national security these days. As you can tell, I've had a tough night. I'm not up for an all-night interrogation at some undisclosed facility."
"That's quite dramatic, Ms. Jones," the man said. "Though inaccurate."
Nell ignored him and searched frantically for someone who could help her. Callen was directly in her line of vision and she waved at him, but Deeks was distracting him. In fact, it looked as if Deeks were reenacting some part of the gunfight that had taken place while she was in the water. Of course. As a result, neither man noticed her frantic waving.
"Please, Ms. Jones," the woman tried, taking hold of her arm and starting to steer her toward an SUV.
"How do I know you are who you say?" Nell demanded, then turned to the man. "Garner?" She placed as much emphasis on the name as she could, solely to let him know that she knew who he was.
He sighed, and glanced at his partner, and Nell wanted to rip their eyes out, because she was becoming really exasperated with those silent looks. "Ms. Jones," he began, stepping forward, and making the wrong move of placing a hand on her arm.
She reacted immediately in self-defense, wrenching herself away, which caused him to automatically grab for her. It only spurred her on more, and she lashed out violently, pushing as hard as she could against his hold. He lurched away from her attack in sheer reflex, and unfortunately for him, he was also closer to the edge of the pier than he realized. He wheeled almost comically backwards before falling into the water.
His partner abandoned Nell to rush to the dock's edge, frantically searching the water.
"Jesus, Nell!" Deeks yelled from behind her. She spun to see him behind her, along with Callen, Kensi, Sam, and a half dozen other emergency services personnel who had seen the commotion. "Did you just push Agent Garner into the water?"
"Um…you know that guy?" She asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach that hadn't been there moments before.
"Yeah, he's FBI, the agent in charge of the special task force that's tracking James Walsh," Deeks said, though he wasn't paying her much attention. He was too riveted on Garner's partner and two other men who were helping the water-logged agent out of the water.
"I…didn't know," she said sheepishly, wincing as Garner staggered to his feet at the edge of the pier, trying in vain to ring out his suit jacket. "That's not good."
Kensi appeared at her side. "You pushed Garner off the pier?" She couldn't hide her laughter. "Way to go, Nell!" She held up her hand for a high five, which Nell ignored. When Kensi spotted Garner glaring at the two of them as if he wanted to burn them alive, she slowly lowered her hand and started to back away, "I mean…you've got this, Nell."
"Traitor!" Nell hissed at her. She grabbed Deeks' arm, since he was closest. "You might never hear from me again," she told him gravely.
"Don't be dramatic," Deeks laughed, patting her hand, though he kept looking at Garner warily.
"I'm going to be shipped to Guantanamo," Nell wailed, as Garner made his way over to her.
"No you won't. I mean, probably not. Maybe. Send a postcard," Deeks wrenched himself free from her death grasp before she could react and backed up, leaving her to Garner's mercy. They were all traitors, then.
"Ms. Jones," Garner's voice was pure steel as he tried to keep his composure despite the fact that his clothes were dripping water onto the dock. "Let's try this again – you will accompany us back to headquarters to answer questions about James Walsh. That is not an option. If you come willingly, I might consider not filing assault charges against you for that little stunt you just pulled."
Nell winced, because she did feel bad about what she'd done, but in her defense, he was being a jerk about bringing her in. He didn't have to treat her like a criminal, just because she'd spent so much time with Walsh, and…her eyes snapped up to meet Garner's, and she realized in that moment that he actually suspected her of working with Walsh. All regret about what she'd done to him vanished in an instant.
Her feelings must have shown on her face, because his expression hardened even further. "Get in the car," he ordered, "or do I have to handcuff you?"
She opened her mouth to tell him he could try when someone beat her to it.
"I'd like to see that," Callen said calmly from somewhere behind her. She had to literally use all of her willpower to stay rooted to her spot and not turn to latch onto him in a show of horrifyingly weak gratitude.
"Did you see what she did?" Garner yelled, stepping forward and reaching a hand out to Nell. He froze when Callen stepped closer, his entire demeanor screaming that he wanted to kill someone, and if he had to settle for an FBI agent, so be it.
"Touch her," he suggested, voice dropping ominously, "I want to see you try."
Nell shivered at his words, and to his credit, Garner knew a real threat when he faced one. He had no doubt that even if the law were on his side, he'd suffer dearly for laying a finger upon the woman in front of him. Reason was his only course of action. "She just pushed me off the pier!" He argued, once he'd gathered himself.
"Did she?" Callen shrugged. "That's funny, because I saw you accidentally slip and fall."
"Yeah," Kensi chimed in, "so did I."
"Me too," Deeks added.
Garner veritably fumed, clenching his hands into fists. "What is wrong with you people? We're trying to apprehend the man who abducted one of your people, yet you only want to stand in our way."
"Not in your way," Callen corrected, "but between you and one of our own."
Nell felt his words wash through her and felt immensely comforted, even though she knew her team was just protecting her as they would any one of their own. That didn't make her less grateful, or less proud to be a part of them. "Sorry Agent Garner," she tried, "it was an accident."
"An accident?" He yelled, moving toward her and stopping only when his partner placed her hand on his arm. It didn't serve to restrain him, but seemed to remind him of who he was, and where he was, and the predicament they were all in. Unfortunately, it did little to curb his anger or indignation. "I could file charges against you for this!"
"Do it," Callen said calmly. "I'll gladly end your career."
"Spare me, Callen," Garner scoffed. "We both know you don't have the power to do that."
"Try me," Callen answered. "And I'll find it." For you, went unspoken.
Garner hesitated, apparently weighing how likely it was that Callen intended to follow through with his threat. He looked back and forth between Callen and Nell. The way Callen looked at the younger woman…it convinced him Callen would follow through on his threats, no matter the cost. There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he was around her, that told him she was not someone he wanted to screw with – not unless he wanted to deal with Callen, too. And he'd heard enough stories about the man to not want to deal with him (he'd survived being shot a half dozen times, for god's sake).
That didn't mean that he couldn't bluff with the best of them. "Agent Jones," he ordered, "let's go."
Nell didn't know whether to agree or not. She glanced over at Callen who nodded slightly at her.
"We'll both go," Callen informed Garner.
"I don't think so," Garner argued. "This is an FBI investigation, Agent Callen. We don't need NCIS screwing things up."
Nell bristled at his words, and Callen stepped up behind her. He paused, debating on the wisdom of his next move, before wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She automatically reached up to hold onto him. He didn't care anymore if others knew what he felt for her – in fact, he wanted them to know. "Let me rephrase," Callen told the FBI agent, relishing how Nell relaxed against him, "either I go with her, or she doesn't go at all."
Garner hesitated, as his suspicions about the two of them were confirmed. He recognized Callen's silent actions and the meaning behind them, and debated the best way to proceed. His partner elbowed him in the side, and he turned to glare at her, then sighed when her look told him this was the best they were going to get. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth, no doubt furious at Callen's conditions, but recognizing that arguing was futile.
Garner gestured toward his SUV and Callen shook his head. "I don't think so. We'll follow you." He led Nell over to his car. She followed Callen willingly, but judging by the look on Garner's face, she didn't know if she'd consider it a victory. In fact, she thought it just might work against her.
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