AN: There's a gap in canon between Tin Soldiers and Empty Quiver, so that's where this happens.

Chapter 3

G frowned as he shaved his stubble before the sun had finished rising. Without it, he looked several years younger, not nearly as battered as he was in reality. But CHP officers were clean-cut, even if they were taking kickbacks from dirtbags to be a "taxi service." He and Sam needed to make this case a priority, figure out what the Pendleton connection was.

He texted Sam that he'd meet him at the office, then headed in. G was the first one into the operations center. He didn't have much time before he had to meet Sam, and he needed to talk to Hetty first.

She wasn't at her desk, so he went over to the coffee space, where he found her pouring water into her flowered teapot.

"Mr. Callen." She didn't turn away from her morning ritual. "You don't usually precede Mr. Hanna into the office."

"Nell was just doing what I asked her to yesterday, Hetty. You can't punish her for that. I'm as much her boss as you are."

Hetty set the teapot down and turned to face him, her dark eyes looking up at him. "Quite the contrary, Mr. Callen. On both counts. I do not intend to, as you put it, punish Miss Jones for her actions yesterday. A member of this team needed help and she provided it, as is her responsibility."

G felt the tension in his shoulders ease a bit at Hetty's words. "Wait, you said on both counts." He narrowed his gaze, tried to read her face.

"You are not Miss Jones' supervisor, I am. I do her annual performance evaluation. You are a coworker, and one who has occasion to request her assistance from time to time. But neither I nor NCIS consider you her supervisor." She looked up at him without blinking.

G knew Hetty — there was definitely another meaning there. This was Hetty — there were probably six or seven other meanings in there. She was many things, but straightforward was rarely a word he'd use to describe her.

"So...?" He hoped she'd finish his sentence for him.

She smiled and turned back to the counter, setting everything on her tea tray and lifting it down. The operations manager turned to face him, moving smoothly enough that the china didn't even rattle on the tray. "I meant what I said yesterday, Mr. Callen, about my one wish for you. Far be it from me to stand in the way of your first steps in that direction."

As she walked away, her pace careful, G stared after her. He wanted to demand answers, but Hetty wouldn't give them. And if he didn't get moving, Sam would demand them from him and he wasn't sure he knew what to tell the big guy.

He pulled his bag from the locker and headed into the locker room to change. As he walked out, boots and uniform still not quite familiar, he was in the space between him and his legend, the brief moments each day he felt like no skin quite fit him. He was just getting into mindset of the corrupt highway patrol officer he'd been playing for six months when he saw Nell walk into the gym, her bag slung across her body. She smiled at him and suddenly he was back to being G again. They exchanged greetings and he forced himself to head over to the armory where he was meeting Sam.

As he walked, he thought back about what Hetty had said.

"That little-" He cut himself off before she could catch him.

"G?" Sam looked up from where he was cleaning his gun.

"Nothing."

"Yeah?" He caught G's gaze, and G couldn't look away.

"Just something Hetty said." G rolled his eyes.

"She's a smart lady." Sam grinned.

"Yeah, and she knows that too well." G checked to make sure his fake badge was in place and his uniform was ready to go. "Sorry about yesterday."

"We got it taken care of, G." Sam looked down at his gun as he wiped it down. "I'm glad Nell had your back."

"Yeah. She... Yeah." G wasn't going to go there, not yet. He was going to make sure this was straight in his head first because even if Hetty was right that it wasn't against regs, it was a step he didn't want to take unless he was sure. Maybe after they got this case finished.