Chapter Five

Nell Jones was scared. She was scared that she would compromise the mission, and above all else, she was scared that her inadequacy would kill her friends, her family, her Callen, herself…wait, she paused and stopped walking across the way to the boat shed. Callen was not hers, she berated herself for becoming possessive of something that was not hers; someone she thought would never be hers. She flinched and inaudibly gasped as she felt a burning sensation on the small of her back.

"Let's go, move it." Callen muttered as he steered her into action with one hand and the other sending a quick text message before he placed his cellphone back in its holster on his hip.

She started walking briskly in the attempt to get away from him, get away from the touch of his hand gently on the small of her back. Her attempts failed as he matched whatever speed she tried. She sucked her upper lip in her mouth, nibbled upon it as she steeled her resolve. She would not act like the inexperienced girl that he had accused her of being when he had been speaking to Hetty. Of course, he had meant inexperienced in the field, but her swooning at a gentle touch would give her crush away. She did not need any more ammunition against her as she already felt mortified by what had occurred after she had fell, and more so during the briefing. Her skin crawled as she remembered parts of it.

She pursed her lips, slowly bringing her upper lip out of her mouth. Oblivious to Callen watching her from the corner of his eye, she missed the look of lust that crossed his face as she nibbled on her upper lip, and as she released it. Her thoughts were on the what-ifs and what-could-happen. She would never forgive herself, if something that she did, or something that she could have prevented, happened to her family, her friends, or anyone else, for that matter. She had chosen to use her analytical skills and high intelligence in law enforcement, because she had wanted to help protect and save people, she was not an action sort of girl, she preferred behind the scenes; she helped the people who saved people. She was okay with being the girl behind the curtain. She was not okay with an entire mission relying upon her. Of course, frequently, a case's Intel was her responsibility, and Intel was a major part of a case, but the Intel happened behind the scenes, as she preferred, and not out in the field, the spotlight.

She was going from backstage to center stage in a blink of an eye. She was terrified that she was going to do something wrong. She was embarrassed that she was paired with Callen; a man, who she highly respected, admired thoroughly, and if she were honest, a man who she was completely attracted to, and a little bit in love with. When it came down to their acting as a couple, being intimate for show, she feared she was going to embarrass them both, she just knew she would. He had been adamant about them not being believable, which she mistook as horror that it was expected of him to 'pretend' that he was with her. She feared she would overact or come on too strong, which would reveal what she would prefer hidden. Guys like G. Callen did not go for girls like her; she had learned her lesson in College and had no desire to relearn.

When she entered, the boat shed, she was relieved that someone was there to bear witness to whatever Callen decided to say or do. Perhaps if there was a witness, he would be more generous of her feelings, but then again had there not been witnesses in the Command Center? The entire team had been there. That twenty minutes had been one of the most embarrassing she had ever encountered.

Agent Mike Renko greeted them with a nod of his head and a wave of his hand while he reclined on the sofa as he perused a paper file. "Callen. Nell."

"Hi, Mike!" Nell stated exuberantly and entirely too cheerful. Callen recognized what she was doing; trying to get away from him. She was skittish. Before Callen could stop her, she half ran and half skipped toward an unsuspecting Renko whom realized something was not right with the Intelligence Analyst.

He stood just before she made it to the couch. She tackled him with a hug, clinging onto him for dear life, as if this would be the last time she would see him, as if he was some sort of lifeline. He loosely hugged her back, as he was afraid of what Callen would do if he touched her for too long. The glare Mike received from Callen would have been amusing if it had not been directed at him. G. Callen was pissed, annoyed, and most surprising jealous. Mike smiled at the irony as he remembered his time with the team when he was a rookie agent, when Callen had been his training agent. Whenever the team went on outings, the women were always attracted to Callen, who mostly did not give them a second look.

Nell continued to ramble onward, bringing Mike out of the nostalgia of a time long since gone, "I'm so glad that you are here, uh," She faltered, "I mean you're back from your Op. It's so good to see you. I missed you around the office. Glad to see you! You're back! I missed you."

Mike looked over her head to Callen. Mike arched his eyebrow and glanced downward to the top of Nell's head, whose cheek was pressed against his chest. He gave Callen 'Is she for real?' look. Now he understood why Callen had texted him to let him know that he would need the boat shed. The hustle and bustle of the OSP would further distract her. Callen shook his head in disbelief as he took ahold of her waist, strongly pulling her away from Mike, toward then down the hall, and into an interrogation room.

She yelped in surprise as he released her. She could not believe it; however gentle as it was, he had manhandled her. He slammed the door closed behind him. He stood in front of the door to prevent her from escaping, as if she had a chance.

"Callen…" Nell started to speak, but thought better of it, worried that she was the cause of the anger in his eyes and body language. She did not understand why he had ordered her here to the boat shed, when all he did was staring at her with his arms crossed barring the only exit. He could have done this at the command center, she'd prefer if he had, because there would be a witness, an ally in Eric. She trusted Callen, knew that he would not hurt her, but she also knew that sometimes he had a short temper, and snapped. She did not want to be the first woman who was not a suspect he did so on.

He stared at her as he struggled for control over his emotions. This was a bad idea. The Op would be compromised before it had even begun. If he could not think straight now, there was no way in hell he'd be able to in the field. They had to come to an understanding about the mission, because there was not any way around it. If they had to stay in this room for the entire day, he would ensure that it happened.

"Callen, please say something." She fidgeted. He did not reply, but watched her as she paced around the table and wrung her hands. She hissed when she placed her hurt wrist in an angle that hurt. He sighed, took a step forward, and she froze.

"Stop it." He ordered as he had enough of her terror of him. He was not a monster. He would not hurt her.

"Stop what?" She squeaked.

"Being afraid." He answered as he continued to walk towards her.

"I think I have a right to be afraid." She retorted as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Not of me." He replied as he stopped in front of her, entering her personal space, leaving two inches between them. He caressed her jawline and her breathing sped up, her heart skipped a beat, her mouth slightly fell open. "Never of me."

"Callen?" She whispered, swallowed, and then looked into his piercing blue eyes as she searched for an answer to a question that she did not know she could ask. The heat of his gaze floored her. She mistook the heat for anger and took a step back. He grabbed ahold of her unharmed wrist and pulled her against him. "Callen, what? No..." She was having déjà vu, this reminded her of something that happened when she was in college, and she would not let him humiliate her as she had been a few years ago, by a different man. "You're angry at me, please don't do this. You don't have to prove a point." She shuddered as he settled his hands upon her hips before slowly sliding them up her torso back down to her hips then repeated the actions. She had to get ahold of this situation, take control of it. "I get it. If you remember, I agreed with your assessment. No one is going to believe," She gasped as she felt the promise of his thumbs just below the undersides of her breasts. She bit her lip as he trailed his fingers down her abdomen around to her back. Her breath hitched as he teasingly trailed his fingers against the line of the zipper of her dress. "Callen, no one's going to believe that you'd go for a nerd, girl like me, you don't have to prove it. I wouldn't…"

At first, the feel of his lips against hers was startling, as she had not expected him truly to go that far to prove his point; that they were incompatible. The truth hit her as sparks of anticipation and pleasure shot over her nerve endings; however, unlikely their compatibility of a long-term relationship as the mission would masquerade; they were compatible with this, the kissing, and the physical part of their supposed relationship. There had been no doubt in her mind before this toe curling kiss, but the kiss verified what she already knew; that she was hopelessly attracted to him. As she mistakenly believed, he kissed her to prove their incompatibility; she sought out to prove to him that they were physically compatible. She may regret her forthcoming actions, but she would regret it more if she let this moment pass without trying. It hurt to know, to hear that he would never see her as she wanted him to see her, but if she could have a few stolen moments; nights with him, then that would have to be enough even if it were under the guise of an alias. She would have her memories and her regrets, but she would not have the daunting what-ifs.

She placed her hands on either side of his neck and tugged him down, mindful of her hurt wrist, further to her level. Although in three-inch heels, she was still four inches shorter than he was. She deepened the kiss, bringing his bottom lip between hers, rolling, and nibbling it. He groaned and placed his left hand on the right side of her face, threading the tips of his fingers through her hair. He trailed his right hand down her back to the small of it. He brought her flush against him. She moaned as he closed his lips around her upper lip and suckled. They tortured the other with nips and grazes of teeth. When she slid her hands from either side of his neck to his face, she tried again to pull him downward, she gasped and giggled as she felt him pick her up and sat her on the table. Closer now, without her having to straining upward, and him leaning downward, they freely kissed the other without any obstruction.

He deepened the kiss, bringing his other hand to the other side of her face, threading the tips of those fingers in her hair as the other one had. He gently cradled her face in his hands, but just as tenderly as the hold on her face, he kissed her hard, fusing their mouths closer together in the age-old rhythm of catch and release. Teeth grinded against teeth as lips fought the other for dominance. What was meant be a way to prove to the other that it could work between them…in the mission, quickly had turned into a heated, desperate power struggle that neither wanted to forfeit. Shaky breaths and moans met each movement, each power play. She scooted closer to the edge of the table, bringing him in between her knees, her inner thighs resting against his outer ones. She hooked her ankles around his legs bringing him as close to her as she could in the position that they were in. Her dress had ridden slightly up her hips, but still it covered her secrets, yet revealing two or so inches of pale skin above her Band-Aid® clad knees. Tongues slid across and around the other, searching, probing for pleasure, for power. Unbeknownst to them, they had an audience through the surveillance feed that she had forgotten and he had not cared about. Their audience was shocked, and one that was utterly distressed to the point of embarrassing himself and the others.

Her head was swimming in her lust for him. Never in her most secret dreams had she dreamed of this, the reality of it, effectively blowing away any dream that her subconscious had created, forgotten, or held in a place in her psyche, called denial. She groaned in protest when he pulled his lips away from hers. She mewled in pleasure as his lips found her jawline before he trailed open mouth kisses down the column of her neck. He paid extra attention to both her collarbone and her pulse point, as she made the most delicious sounds deep within her throat as he kissed, suckled, and nipped the once pale, now pink, almost reddening skin. Surely as his eyes were blue, she would have bite marks, and the beginning of a stubble burn, but he did not care. He was marking her as his…he abruptly pulled away as that thought crossed his mind. This had not been his intention, his complete intention when he had ordered her here. He had wanted them to talk, for him to ease any fears that she had, and he had known that it would lead to a kiss or two to prove to her that he hadn't meant what he had said, but those kisses he had planned was nothing like what had happened. He needed space to think. He needed time to process the fact that she wanted him. When someone thought that they could not have something, had settled for not having it, only to eventually, out of nowhere, get that something, it was an adjustment that could not within a few minutes, be attuned with reality.

Both stunned at the amount of power and passion behind their exchange, neither spoke as they struggled to regain control of their breathing. He placed his forehead upon hers, his nose nuzzled hers, and he promised quietly as he held eye contact, "I'll take care of you, Nell. I'll keep you safe."

"I know." She whispered as she quickly and uncertainly pecked him on the lips. He caressed her jaw before pulling away and kissing her on the cheek. She closed her eyes and successfully fought the tears that threatened to fall. She was still hurt from his earlier comments and was now confused at his mixed signals. She now knew that he was attracted to her, but his actions now revoked his actions from moments ago.

Both had realized to different degrees, that they had forgotten the original purpose of their first kiss halfway through the second. No matter how close the mission, their aliases would come to what they wanted in their lives as G. Callen and Nell Jones, they knew to varying degrees that whatever was occurring between them, physical or more, had to wait until after the mission.

However, out of instinct the lines of reality will blur.

Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favorites, reviews, and constructive criticism.