John Doyle, Tara (The Wardrobe Coordinator), and the yet to be named temporary support staff assistant are original characters, any other character appearing are the creation of Shane Brennan and/or their respective owners.
Chapter Seven
Nell Jones was embarrassed and she was tired of being so. She would have to figure a way around the pesky emotion. After she had left the boat shed and returned to the Operation of Special Projects Headquarters, she found the nearest restroom with the intent to splash cold water on her face, but once she saw her reflection, she was mortified, another emotion she was tired of. She wondered how many people she had passed, she estimated that it had to be a little more than a dozen, whom did not say a word about the reddening of her jaw and neck. She had faint bite marks along her jawline, up and down the side of her neck and right on her pulse point. As she gingerly touched the love bites, she could hear Deeks' voice in her head asking her which Twilight dude had gotten to her.
She snorted as she tried to compare Callen to any of the fictional Vampires and found that there was no comparison. She giggled as she thought of Callen sparkling with glitter. The only thing that sparkled, glittered on him was his blue eyes, but mostly those pierced, smouldered, or glared. Quickly she sobered, when a newly appointed temporary support staff assistant from the team Renko now called home, entered and did a double take at Nell's reflection. Nell blushed, but forced a smile as her reflection met eye contact with the woman.
"Miss Lange," The woman stated nasally, "Will not be happy that you were doing the hanky panky on company time."
"I'm sure that Hetty," Nell retorted, the reddening of her cheeks now from anger instead of embarrassment, "Will be okay with my recent activities as I have done nothing wrong."
"I highly doubt that." The woman snarled. "One thing I can't stand is a bitch who kisses ass to get to the top. The only thing worse is a slut who sleeps her way there. Unfortunately, it looks like you are of both sort."
"Excuse me?" Nell sputtered.
"You heard me." The woman retorted. "The only way Miss Lange would be okay or not care about your trip to the broom closet would be if you kissed her ass frequently or the person who made those Hickeys was her pride and joy. I've been here a week and already know that Agent Callen is her favorite."
Nell narrowed her eyes and jutted her chin out. She resolutely stated, "Miss-I've-been here-a-week, your attitude absolutely sucks, and if you'd like to stick around here at OSP, it seriously needs an adjustment, because you and that sour attitude can and will be replaced. Attitudes like that don't, can't last long."
"Ooh, I'm shaking in my boots." The woman sarcastically admitted as she rolled her eyes. She flipped her long hair behind her shoulder, before changing her tone to pityingly. "Honey, your young and might not know, so let me tell you something, kiss asses and sluts are replaceable, because there will always be another behind you, vying for that place in the boss's pocket or the favorite's bed."
Nell blinked and resisted the urge to smack her, which surprised Nell, because she always had preferred to settle disagreements with words, with intelligent debate, not physical satisfaction of forceful attacks. She tightened her lips, clenched her fists, quickly walked away, and left the restroom. She walked briskly toward the wardrobe department; she hoped she would be able to finagle a sweater or something for cover, because if she encountered another opinionated person who commented on her love bites, she would become irate. She could not; she refused to continue the day with the evidence of her encounter with Callen, on showcase for everyone to see, make unjust judgments, and for her to explain. How did one explain something when you did not understand what you were supposed to explain? She highly doubted she could talk her way around it without revealing more than she would like.
She paused to an abrupt stop as she saw Deeks standing just outside of the wardrobe department craning his neck and looking around it. She braced herself for his comments, his jokes, because that was what he did. He made awkward moments bearable, deadly situations seem like amateur pranks gone wrong, and unpredictable outcomes seem foreseeable. She would take whatever comment he slew at her, because at the end of the day, she knew that Deeks was her friend, one of her best, and would never intentionally hurt her. However, her bracing was for naught, because when she approached him, she was pleasantly surprised when Deeks did not verbally acknowledge the love bites. Perplexed she watched him glance at her neck before his gaze landed back on her eyes, but he refrained from commenting on them.
He smiled and greeted her, "Uh, hello."
She narrowed her eyes at his suspicious change of personality, as she replied, "Hmm, hello."
"If you're waiting, um, if you need Tara, it might be a while." Deeks stumbled over the sentence, as he really wanted to say something about what he had witnessed, the evidence of that, but knew better than to say it. Sam had laid into him, after Sam and Kensi had pulled him out of Ops. He scratched the back of his neck, one of his tells of when he felt awkward or uncomfortable. "She and Kensi are in the fitting room measuring for something for the upcoming Op, they were whispering in that way you women do when you don't want us men to know what it is you're talking about."
Nell nodded and turned to walk away, but stopped when she heard Deeks continue speaking.
"Nell Bell," He paused, wondering the best way to word his attempt to help her. "If you're cold," He said as the decibels of his voice varied from high to low back to high. "There's a windbreaker jacket I use after work when I run, when it's too late to surf, in my gym bag beside my desk. I promise it's clean." He made a hand motion toward the bullpen. "It's in the main zipper slot; you can get it out and wear it the rest of the day. You know, 'because it's cold and all."
She smiled and walked over to him. He was sweet for not calling her out, making some ridiculous statement about it being cold; when in actuality it was hotter than what is considered normal for the time of year. She appreciated that kindness. "Thank you, Marty. You don't know how much I appreciate it." She hugged him and whispered against his chest. "You've no idea how much I need a friend right now."
He hugged her back and replied, "You're welcome." He waited until she walked away; entering the bullpen, effectively out of earshot, before he whispered. "Oh, I know how and why."
Meanwhile now in the bullpen, Nell found Deeks' gym bag, and unzipped the main slot. She carefully picked up the silver iPod that rested on top of the bright blue jacket. She placed the iPod underneath the jacket before she pulled the jacket out. Obviously, it would be several sizes too big, but would work. Once she had the jacket on, which covered most of her dress; she zipped it up, and maneuvered the flip up collar so that it finished hiding the marks on her neck. She would have to suffer through the odd looks of wearing the jacket, and the scandalous looks at her jawline. The jacket smelled clean, fresh, ocean water, and very much like Deeks. The smell reminded her of when you visited a place you love, but not as frequently as you'd like.
She walked toward the staircase that lead to Ops and paused when she heard Hetty call out her name.
"Miss Jones," Hetty said, "A word if you would?"
"Yes ma'am," Nell stepped down and followed Hetty to her office. Nell sat down, placed her hands in her lap, and winced at the movement. Her wrist was beginning to bother her more. If it persisted after Hetty had dismissed her, she would go check to see if Eric needed her assistance, if he did, she would help him then go to medical. She was certain that it was not broken or severely sprained, as Callen had given her the okay to start work. If it had been either injury, he would have immediately sent her to medical.
"Tea?" Hetty asked not looking at Nell as she spoke which signalled to Nell that something was not right, as Hetty always acknowledged her.
"Yes, ma'am." Nell replied even though she did not want anything to drink, she had learned shortly after joining the team, that one did not refuse tea from Hetty, however politely the refusal. Nell silently sat for several seconds as she watched Hetty prepare the tea. "Have I done something wrong?"
The questioned made Hetty briefly glance at her, though she did not respond. Hetty finished preparing the tea and placed the beautifully designed antique English Rose teacup and platter in front of Nell, before finally taking a seat behind her desk. Hetty sipped on tea before cradling the fragile cup in her hands. She watched Nell and considered her wording. "Have you anything to confess?"
Nell brought her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down before answered, "Nothing to confess at this time."
Several minutes passed with neither speaking. They each sipped on their Tea. Someone not familiar with what had occurred in Ops during their briefing, would claim that the two was sharing a cup of tea, enjoying the serenity of such an activity, yet that was not what occurred. Thoughts ran rampant in Nell's psyche as she waited the bombshell to drop. However, Hetty and she mutually respected the other, and preferred the other's company, Nell knew that there was a reason why Hetty wanted to speak to her alone, or else she would have addressed her during the briefing.
"Miss Jones," Hetty finally broke the silence. She felt a sense of déjà vu, had she not had a similar conversation with Miss Blye and Detective Deeks weeks ago? "When two people go undercover in an assignment such as the one you will enter with Mister Callen, emotions run high, one gets caught in the moment of an alias without thought of the consequences of what will happen after the mission is over, how those moments can change a partnership, a relationship forever."
Nell quietly listened as she swallowed or bit her bottom lip at certain parts.
"Miss Jones," Hetty sighed as she folded her hands and placed them in her lap. "For once I am at a loss for words. I know what the message is that I would like to convey, and quite frankly is needed, but am uncertain how to proceed."
Nell stared expectantly, before she stated. "Whatever it is, I will be able to handle it."
"Very well," Hetty stated, impressed with the younger woman, "What are you intentions concerning Mister Callen?"
Nell blinked. Perhaps she had spoken too soon, could she handle the question?
"Well?" Hetty prompted. "You had better have the clearest of intentions for him, as he does not trust, care, or love lightly." Hetty paused, "Dear, I beg you not to come to offence, but do not play any sort of game with him. He is not a boy to be strung along until you decide what you would want from him. He is a forty-two year old man who has seen far too much for several lifetimes, let alone the only one he has." Hetty paused. The look of horror, shame, and embarrassment was transparent upon Nell's features. Hetty repeated her earlier question. "What are your intentions?
"I," Nell paused, as she was now for a loss of words. She sighed sadly, before she answered truthfully. "I don't know. I know that I care for him, but my intentions, I do not. I don't know what his are."
Hetty pursed her lips before she stated, "I highly implore you to have come to a conclusion before whatever is occurring between you and Mister Callen goes any further, regardless of not knowing his intent." Hetty paused, "Whatever may be occurring or whatever you conclude should, had best not compromise this assignment, as the simplest of screw ups could get you both killed. Whatever you feel or may feel for Mister Callen needs to be resolved today, and if it is not, which I highly doubt that it shall not; it needs to wait until after the mission is over and the two of you back here safe. Do you understand me, Miss Jones?"
Nell nodded as she recognized the wisdom of Hetty's statements, "Yes, ma'am."
Hetty continued. "Miss Jones, it is quite alright to have a crush on someone, but to fall in love is a different matter. Crushes come and go, but once you open your heart to that deep unconditional love, you will open yourself up for attack, for the possibility that the one you love does not love you back, or perhaps does love you, but not in the same way."
"Are you suggesting for me to ignore whatever it is that I may or may not feel?" Nell asked, confused and on the verge of outrage that someone she highly respected may have suggested to ignore any feelings she held.
"No, not at all," Hetty replied, before correcting herself, "Try as you might, please ignore it during the mission. However, I feel the unrelenting need to tell you," Hetty paused, her voice cracked just ever so, "Miss Jones, please whatever you do, do not make the same mistake that I made when I was close to your age."
"Mistake?" Nell asked disconcerted at the vulnerability Hetty was displaying. "You don't make mistakes."
"Nell," Hetty blinked back tears she had thought to be forever dry. She had cried her tears and found a way to move on, but sometimes, times like this it took her back as if it had just occurred. "I've never told anyone this,"
"Hetty, you don't have," Nell started, but silence with one look from Hetty.
"Yes, indeed I must," Hetty declared, she smiled at the memory of her first love, then frowned as she remembered how that love ended. "I learned entirely too late that love is always worth the fight. Please, learn from my mistake."
Which left Nell with questions, she did not know the answers to.
Who had Hetty loved and lost due to her not fighting for it?
Yet the most significant, most personal complexing question she now held was, how did the girl who ignored the boys she liked, become the woman who fought for the man she loved?
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