AN: Yes, I am still around, and I apologize to any who have been waiting for this chapter. I have been struggling with where to go in this story. Thanks to all who are still interested! As always, I promise it will be finished, no matter how long it takes me.

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Nell tapped her fingers on the table and stared at the wall. "So…this is fun."

She and Callen had been subjected to a lengthy questioning by various agents, and were only together because Callen had vehemently opposed being separated from her. It was an odd situation, with the FBI apparently not afraid enough of his threats to release them, but willing to let them stay together. Nell wondered if it might be professional courtesy, but figured it was more likely someone around here was terrified of Henrietta Lange.

Agent Garner had yet to appear. After not receiving the answers they expected, the last agent had left with the promise that Garner would be with them shortly.

That had been over a half hour ago.

She glanced at Callen who met her gaze and smiled. For some reason, that made her feel immeasurably better.

"They're making us wait, hoping to put us on edge," he said. "Standard interrogation technique."

"Oh really?" She took in his completely relaxed demeanor. "It doesn't seem to be working on you."

"They'll have to do better than this," he leaned closer. "How are you holding up?"

"I was just held captive by a man who I think very much wanted to kill me, and is still out there, furious that he didn't get the chance to do so. It's going to take more than sitting in a room with you to upset me. In fact, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

Callen arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly around at the drab walls and glaring fluorescent overhead lights.

She shrugged. "We've both been in worse places. This is downright homey."

At the reminder, all humor disappeared from the room. "Was it…"

Nell understood what he wanted to ask but couldn't bring himself to say. "It wasn't as bad as you're thinking, I'm sure. I was mostly kept locked in a small bedroom. Aside from being a bit stingy with food at first, and being hit a couple times…" she trailed off, unwilling to say the experience hadn't been terrible, because it had been. Yet when she thought of how much worse she might have had it, she didn't feel she had the right to complain.

"Are you sure you want to talk about this now?" He asked, low, nodding his head toward the viewing glass where they were most assuredly being watched.

"I don't care about them," she said, because she honestly didn't. The FBI were about the lowest priority she had at the moment.

He nodded. "Okay, then I need to ask, did he – did they…" Callen sighed, clearly frustrated with his sudden inability to speak. He was a trained federal agent. He'd never had any problem talking to victims of crimes, even horrific crimes. With Nell, though, he couldn't even manage the words. He had a feeling if she said what he most feared, he might do something he could never come back from, like torturing James Walsh to death without blinking an eye.

Once again she knew what he meant and spared him from having to say it. She wasn't going to hedge around the fact, either, because she never wanted him to have any doubts about exactly what had happened. "I wasn't raped or sexually assaulted, thankfully." She noticed his wince and in that moment, felt more sorry for him than for anything she'd gone through.

She knew, by now, that he'd probably spent most of the time she'd been missing imagining the worst possible scenarios of what she might be going through. And the possibility he might never see her again…she imagined it in the reverse – what she would do if he were missing and she had no idea what happened to him. The imagined terror and fear was almost paralyzing, and she had no doubt it'd be far worse if they were real.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He was staring at his hands but his head shot up at her words. "You're…" he sort of laughed and shook his head. "Nell Jones, you're…" he trailed off again, then shot forward and grabbed her chair, pulling it as close to him as he could. She jumped, startled at his sudden movement, and before she could recover, he took her face in his hands and kissed her, so sudden and sweet that she had barely responded before he let her go.

"Only you would apologize for being abducted."

"I'm sorry that you suffered," she said. "If it had been the other way around, I know I would have."

He shook his head. "God, you're beautiful."

She automatically glanced to the one-way viewing glass in the wall. From this side, she could only see her reflection, and it was decidedly…not beautiful. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, not to mention she'd lost weight she couldn't afford to lose. One side of her face had fading bruises from where she'd been hit. And her hair? Forget it. It scattered every which way around her face and she attempted to smooth it down. Overall, she looked as if…well, as if she'd been held captive for awhile. "Beautiful? I don't think I've showered in four days," she joked.

Callen met her eyes in the mirror. "Despite what you obviously think right now, you are quite gorgeous no matter your state," he said, as she felt a blush rising in her cheeks. "But just now, what I meant was…as a person, you are the most beautiful that I have ever known."

"That's…" she cleared her throat, "that's quite the thing to say. I could say the same about you."

"You could?" He grinned.

As usual, her own answering smile was pretty much automatic in response. She couldn't seem to control herself when it came to him. "Okay, I will say the same about you," she relented, leaning over so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"I wish I could have traded places with you," he said, running his fingers through her hair.

"I don't," she said firmly, as his fingers stilled. "I don't know if I could have gotten through what you did – the waiting, the not knowing. That would have been worse, I think."

He resumed stroking her hair. "You would have been fine," he told her. "You're strong, you always have been. If I had to choose, I'd be where you were in an instant."

"I know you would," she said, tilting her head to look over at him. "That's what makes you a good man."

He touched her head, lightly guiding it back to his shoulder, and then kissed the top of it. "You think I'm better than I am."

"I know exactly who you are," she insisted. "And I don't want to hear one word to the contrary."

"Alright, I give," he said lightly. She half-nodded, satisfied, and they lapsed into silence. He thought she was falling asleep when she spoke again.

"You want to know the worst part of it?"

"Thinking you might die?" He guessed.

"No, it was thinking that everyone I loved was suffering. I couldn't take that."

He moved his hand from her hair in order to wrap his arm around her and hold her tighter.

"And the next worst part wasn't physical – after a certain point, it didn't matter if I didn't get enough food or if I got hit from time to time because of the things I said." She felt him stiffen. "It was being alone. Completely, totally alone, for hours on end, and wondering if that was going to be how my life would end. Alone. I don't think Walsh even intended it, but the psychological part of the whole thing was the most difficult to endure."

Callen waited a minute, simply holding her.

"I know I can't undo what Walsh did," he told her. "I also know that nothing I can do will magically fix it. In fact, nothing will probably ever fix it."

"I didn't ask you to –"

"Shh," he whispered. "Let me finish. I know I can't fix it, but I do know that I can be here for you from now on –"

"Thank you," she whispered.

"In whatever way you need –"

"I know you would," she smiled at him.

"For as long as you live," he added, with slight frustration. She glanced at him in confusion. "You need to let me finish my sentences!" He exclaimed.

"That's – I –" She registered his words and abruptly shut up, staring at him expectantly.

"Now you stop?" He threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'm done."

She knew she had to say something in response to what had pretty much been a declaration of – something – but her mind spun in circles and she couldn't formulate anything.

Agent Garner chose that moment to enter the room, and Nell wondered if he'd been watching them through the one-way mirror waiting for the best time to make an entrance.

"You two look appropriately concerned," he said irritably.

Nell narrowed her eyes at him. "Is there a reason why you've made us wait for so long?"

"Yeah," Garner snapped. "I had to go change into clothes that weren't soaking wet."

Nell made an effort to try and hide her amusement. She knew she wasn't successful by the way Garner glowered at her.

"Why don't we skip right to the point," Garner said, bristling. "Where is James Walsh?"

Nell rubbed her face. "I don't know. I don't know how many times I can tell your agents that, since clearly no one believes me, but it's the truth."

"You insult my intelligence, Ms. Jones," Garner shook his head. "You truly expect us to believe that?"

"Yes, I do," she tried not to yell, "because it's the truth."

"So he keeps you captive for over a week, and gives you the opportunity, numerous times, to contact your team, yet you refuse every time. And once you 'escape' from him," his tone made it clear he didn't believe a word she'd said, "he promptly calls you…merely to taunt you? Do you understand how far-fetched this sounds?"

"Actually, I do," she said, taking a deep breath when Callen took hold of her hand. "Do you really think that your accusations don't suggest anything I haven't questioned about myself over the past week? Like how could I have let my guard down enough to be captured, and how I couldn't find any way to escape, and how – yes – I made the deliberate choice not to engage in the games Walsh tried to get me to play with Callen and the rest of my team?"

She paused, glancing at Callen, who nodded slightly at her in encouragement.

"However," she continued in a stronger tone, "none of that makes me guilty of the imaginary crimes you claim I committed."

"I don't believe you," Garner declared. "And I'm going to prove it."

"Then go ahead!" She countered with exasperation. "We're waiting for your proof."

"Tell me what you know about Walsh," Garner hissed in response.

Instead of responding to the clearly agitated man with yet another truthful answer that he wouldn't believe, she turned her gaze to Callen. "Are you and Sam this irritating when you question people?"

Callen tipped his head and regarded Garner. "I like to think I have more finesse. But yeah, Sam can be this irritating."

"I'm going to tell him you said that."

"Do either of you even care?" Garner fumed. "Despite what you two seem to think, this is not a game."

Nell knew he was capable of it, but it still caused a certain amount of awe in her when Callen's demeanor changed in an instant. All traces of humor vanished from his expression as he turned away from her to focus entirely on the agent in front of them.

"I'm sorry," Callen began, "but do you mean to tell me that tracking down the man who abducted one of my people is a serious matter? A matter which I should be investigating right now, instead of wasting time here with you, while you try to prove a baseless conspiracy theory?"

"Agent Callen –"

"Do you understand that she almost died?" Callen yelled, causing Nell to flinch, not at his tone, but at his words. She didn't exactly want to be reminded.

"Maybe if you allowed me to interview the two of you separately –"

Callen stood, leaning over the table. "I have already granted you tremendous leeway on this matter, not because I wanted to, but because I was ordered to by my superiors. They seem to think inter-agency cooperation is a good thing." His skeptical glance toward Nell told her exactly what he thought of that matter. "What they didn't order me to do is let you subject us to wild accusations that are based entirely on your imagination and no physical evidence whatsoever."

"You have to admit that it's more than suspicious that one of your top intelligence analysts would –"

"Actually, no," Callen interrupted yet again. He was still furious, but managing to keep it under better control. "Nothing she does has ever – would ever – make me suspicious of her true intentions. I know Nell's true intentions, and that is to serve her government and NCIS to the best of her ability. She is on our side, and you trying to paint her as a co-conspirator, or worse, a traitor, is more than unconscionable. In fact, it makes you the traitor."

"You're not exactly impartial, now are you?" Garner sneered, "It's quite obvious to everyone at both the FBI and NCIS that you and Ms. Jones share a personal relationship. Obviously your personal feelings are clouding your judgment."

"Callen," Nell said quickly, standing and crossing to where he'd frozen, glaring daggers at Garner across the room. She needed to stop him before he did something he'd regret. "I don't mind being interviewed alone. I have nothing to hide."

He met her eyes for a long moment. "I know you don't. That's why I can't allow it. If you say the wrong thing, something he'll twist for his own personal motives, something they'll use against you –" he heaved a sigh and lowered his voice. "Don't you see, I can't risk it. I can't risk them taking you away from me – from us. They'll throw you in a cell until they catch Walsh…and what if they never do?"

"You can't really think they'd lock me up without any real evidence," she murmured, looking over at the agent glowering on the other side of the room.

Callen put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know that they would, but I also don't know that they wouldn't. That's why I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Despite herself, she smiled at him. "You're sweet. You know that, right?"

"I'm practical," he corrected, hugging her for the sole reason that he wanted to touch her. She sighed and shut her eyes, almost managing to forget where they were. Until Garner made himself known again.

"This is lovely," the agent said, clapping at them mockingly. "Do you want me to take a picture? You can make it your profile picture online. Better yet, we can use it in the engagement announcement."

Nell shifted away from Callen. "Look, we've been here long enough. Either you can let us go and we'll work together to catch a known killer, or you can try and keep me here without proof I've done anything wrong."

"Do you have any actual evidence?" Callen asked.

Garner pressed his lips together in a tight line and crossed his arms.

"Your threats might work on some, but you know I have a few…connections." She tried not to smile when Callen squeezed her shoulder. "Your threats don't work with me. You can be on the winning side of this thing," she paused, taking in how Garner's expression wavered slightly. "Or you can be on the losing side. It's your choice."

"Isn't she brilliant?" Callen asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He couldn't seem to stop himself from touching her lately, no matter how much he tried. Granted, he didn't try very hard.

"What are you proposing?" Garner asked warily.

"Full cooperation," Nell promised, though she tensed a bit, because she had no authority to offer any such agreement. She turned to Callen, praying he would say something. She hadn't been able to talk it over with him beforehand, but she took it on faith that he'd recognize her plan.

And he did. In that moment, all he could feel for her was admiration, and the thought crossed his mind, for the first time, that he loved this woman. But maybe that was something he'd known for awhile, and just never allowed himself to consciously think about.

Nell had seen their best way out – get Garner to voluntarily release them, or else risk spending hours, maybe days, being asked useless questions while Walsh got further and further away.

"A joint investigation," Callen offered. "Fifty-fifty. You get half the credit when we catch him."

Nell visibly relaxed and Callen leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Have I ever not had your back?"

"I need to talk this over with my people," Garner said as he left, and Nell grinned, because it was as good an agreement as they were going to get from the man.

"Well done," Callen said, as soon as the door had closed behind Garner. "Looks like we'll be getting out of here sooner rather than later."

Nell was fully confident in her capabilities. She knew she was one of the best analysts in their office. She knew how to do her job and do it well, and she took great pride in it. She didn't need compliments and praise to keep her going, but that didn't mean it wasn't appreciated. And when it came from Callen, who simply expected all his agents to be the best, it was even better.

She took a selfish moment to soak up his approval, and then, she stopped seeing herself as part of his team, and him as her boss. She looked at him as Callen, just Callen, the man she now thought she couldn't live without.

"I want to go home," she whispered.

"We're going," he promised. She didn't doubt it.

XXXXXX

James Walsh paced his motel room, pulling at his clothes which were a size too small. But what could you expect when you had limited time, and needed to rob the first vacant house you came across?

Too bad he hadn't been able to stay there for awhile, but when the man who lived there returned home, he'd fled. Not that he had any qualms against killing to secure a safe place to stay, but it was too high risk right now. He couldn't take the chance of someone reporting the man missing when he had every cop and federal agent in the state – and surrounding states – on the hunt for him.

And all because of Nell Jones. If she'd only cooperated and given him what he'd asked so very nicely for, he wouldn't be in this predicament.

The more he paced, the more furious he got. How could someone so insignificant have put such a huge dent in his plans? If he'd known then what he knew now, he'd have simply killed her when he first came across her. Instead, she'd successfully escaped him and put every law enforcement contact within 100 miles on alert.

Before, he'd only been concerned with accessing the technology behind the new nerve agent so he could sell it to the highest bidder. Now, even though that was still a priority (money was money, after all) he had a new top item on his list – Nell Jones. She would pay for what she'd put him through.

And he had the perfect way to get to her.

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