Chapter Nine
Callen realized that angering Nell so close to the start of the Op was a bad idea, simply put he had been a jerk to her, but he could not resist the temptation. He enjoyed how her hazel eyes ignited in anger, how her body language became tense as if readying to strike even though she was not prone to violence, and how she pursed her lips; those lips would be the death of him. If he were ever to become a victim of the Kiss of Death urban myth, he wanted her lips to be the one that administrated that final blow. Normally he was not a man who enjoyed public displays of affection, putting up with those moments for aliases and cases sake, with Kensi, and before that Tracy Keller and Kristen Donahue. Although, where it concerned Nell, he did not care who saw him subtly declare his feelings, though to those who knew him, would realize that nothing about those declarations were subtle.
His eyes sparkled in amusement as they followed a furious Nell across the bullpen and up the staircase that would lead to the Ops Command Center. He smirked at her controlled rage, imagining that rage exploding later when they were alone. He had to admire and respect her control, because he highly doubted he could have stayed so calm, if it was she needling him. Place him in any sort of fight that was physical, violent, guns blazing, he would be in control of every movement, every word, but place him in an emotional or sensual argument with someone he cared about, he was doomed. He should have listened to Nate, years ago when the Psychologist had attempted an initiation to help him overcome the little known weakness.
Hetty cleared her throat to bring his attention back to her instead of the now vacant spot on the staircase.
Slowly, he brought his eyes from Nell's retreating figure to Hetty.
He was not sure how Hetty did it, but she had narrowed her eyes at him as she simultaneously arched an eyebrow and frowned at him.
"Mr. Callen, we have several topics to discuss," Hetty stated in a gravelly voice just above a whisper.
He winced as he gripped the back of the chair that Nell had moments ago vacated. Each time, he could remember, Hetty using that sort of tone with him, it always ended with him feeling as if he had been fleeced or a piece of himself left exposed, sometimes both, nevertheless he hated both feelings.
She continued in the same tone and he highly expected her to do so for the rest of the conversation. It was her way of psyching him out, as Sam would claim. "Do sit, would you like a cup of tea, Mister Callen?"
"Not particularly." As he warily sat, he replied, even though she had begun to make him one. He knew he would have to pretend to drink it. Normally, he enjoyed tea with Hetty, but this tea was not a tea, but an obscure interrogation. He realized it and she knew that he realized it. She enjoyed the niceties of interrogation, debate, which had disappeared over time. There were times, that he, too, enjoyed it, but this was one of the times where he preferred to get the hell out of Hetty's Office.
She placed his tea in front of him and fixed herself another one. He observed her quietly and contemplated on what could have been said between Hetty and Nell, before he had arrived.
"What were you and Nell talking about?" Callen asked, as he took a sip of the tea, quickly darting his tongue out to run over his top lip where the tea had left a trail.
"Mr. Callen." Hetty answered in her normal tone of voice, paused just shy of a moment, and continued. "You."
"Me?" He asked. "Why?"
"I asked her a question that I will ask you," She paused. "With a modification, of course."
"That question and modification, would be?" He prompted.
She took a small sip of the tea before she asked, "What are your intentions with Miss Jones?"
He placed the fragile teacup on the just as fragile platter and went to stand, but paused when he heard Hetty use the gravelly voice from earlier, the one he despised.
"You may be able to run from it in your mind and perhaps even your heart, Mr. Callen, but you will not and do not have that luxury in day to day life for the unforeseeable future." She stated. "You must confront whatever it is head on, or at the least, make it clear that whatever it is, will be addressed after the Op has been finished. As you so eloquently said earlier in the attempt to cancel the Op before it had started, you and Miss Jones may be deep cover for months. She is a brilliant Analyst with a bright future, but she is currently inexperienced and untried at being a Field Agent. She will be both your partner and student. She will rely on you more than any of your past partners ever had to."
"You're worried, too." He stated in realization.
"Too?" She repeated, asking for clarification.
"I'm," He paused and cleared his throat. "I'm worried that I won't be able to protect her."
"Hogwash!" She exclaimed. "That is the worst attitude to have! It is a self-fulfilling prophecy that is boxing not only you and Miss Jones, but also this team. Pardon my frankness, but you need to man up, stop feeling defeated before you have started either race whether it be the case or the fledging relationship that neither you or Miss Jones will act upon until after the Op, that Mister Callen was not rhetoric. You will not initiate, encourage, or allow anything to happen between you and Miss Jones until the Op is successfully completed." She paused, before stressing the question. "Do you understand me?"
"Hetty, do you not realize the nature of the Op?" Callen asked growing irritated at how Hetty felt the need to meddle in his personal affairs, not once, but several times. Since the conversation had started, she had directly warned him three times not to start anything with Nell until after the Op, and he had a hunch that she had warned Nell several times as well. Rationally, he understood why she did it, because if he or Nell let their personal feelings get in the middle of the case, they could both make a mistake and get each other killed.
"Do not patronize me, Mister Callen." Hetty retorted. "I under," She blinked when she realized that he had interrupted her.
"I would appreciate if you would extend that same courtesy to Nell and me." He interrupted, his blue eyes darkening in anger. "I am not an amateur. You, of all people, should realize what I have done, what I have been through. You know what the CIA really does, what it isn't, and what is fabricated for the public and even part of our Government to know. You know what happens when Black Ops go wrong. You know, that I," He paused, close to choking on his anger, his emotions. "Would never intentionally put anyone in danger, but specifically a woman, I hate that Nell is being subjected to this ridiculous witch hunt; Kensi would have sufficed with either Sam, or me, Mike even, or hell Deeks would have been okay, because I'm sure that he could have been aged, and Kensi de-aged somehow. Nell should have never been considered for this, regardless of the cockamamie profile of an eighteen-year-old being ideal."
"I agree." She interjected. "I spoke to Leon about it, about how I was uncertain of Miss Jones' ability to carry out the mission, but Leon has faith in her, as do I."
"Vance is completely oblivious to what goes on here at OSP. As soon as he appointed Granger, Assistant Director, and assigned him here in Los Angeles, Vance lost access to most, if not all, intel concerning this office." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired face. It was not lunch yet, and he already felt emotionally exhausted. "This was Granger's idea, Hetty, you cannot try to persuade me to think different, because I know. It was in the way he stood, the way he talked, the way he looked at Nell. He has something planned and it's not good."
"Mister Callen, although, I agree that Granger does not have the best intentions of this team at heart, I highly doubt that he has something nefarious planned for either you or Miss Jones, or anyone else in this office, for that matter. He is far too intelligent to orchestrate and execute such a plan."
"Hetty, every mission, intelligent men, and women fall due to their cockiness and belief that they are invisible, that they are above the law. Granger is no different," Callen paused as he reconsidered what he said. "I take that back, Granger is different, because he has his position to hide behind. Let me tell you, that when this Op is over, Granger and I, will settle whatever the hell he has against me, because I am tired, I am through with him screwing this team, this office over, and putting the people that I care about in the direct line of fire." His blue eyes darkened and his pupils dilated in fury. "It pissed me off what he did to Kensi, extorting her father's memory, placing her in danger, but I knew that although it hurt her, she could handle it, and if she couldn't her partner could, if Deeks couldn't the team as a whole would." He paused again, shaking his head, clearing his throat. "It pains me to admit it, but I can't say that I know Nell will be able to handle this mission, because I have doubts, not some ridiculous self-prophecy that your sprouted earlier, but serious doubts about whether I will be able to handle it." He paused and raised both of his hands in placation as if that would make Hetty forgive him for not allowing her to talk, as she had attempted to disagree. "Will Nell and I get the mission done? Absolutely, I just have doubts on how we're going to get to the end of it, how we're going to get through unscathed."
"Mister Callen, I hear you, and understand your frustration and even some of your doubts; however we must place our faith in Miss Jones. She knows basic defense, she is an adequate shot albeit in ideal circumstances, and she is able to think on her feet, all of those qualities could protect her from an easy threat, but we both realize from our respective experiences, Mister Callen, that there is and will be nothing easy about this Op. If we build upon what she already knows, perhaps our faith in her will become stronger, because she will become stronger."
"We don't have time to build on what she knows." He growled in frustration.
"No, not enough time, but we do have a little." She replied, before started firing question after question, not allowing enough time for him to answer. "You told Marty that Miss Jones was not entering that club until he and Miss Blye checked it out, did you not? Was he not supposed to acquire an invitation for Friday night? Does this not mean that Miss Jones has until, the very least, Friday to learn as much as she can?" She paused, as a look of pure mischief crossed her eyes. "I believe that I have solved one of your problems, the cause of one your doubts."
He arched an eyebrow as if to say 'really.'
"Are you worried that you will not protect Miss Jones, because you will not be able to be in two places at once, that you fear that you will have to choose between her safety and the success of the mission? That if it came down to it, you would choose Miss Jones, over the mission, over your own life."
"Get out of my head, Nate." He answered sarcastically, because she had hit too close to the matter at hand.
Hetty smirked, "My dear, in my day, we didn't have Operational Psychologists, we had to be our own, and often to each other." She paused. "I digress, and assume that you'll be Mister Carl for the unforeseeable future."
"Yes." He answered stiffly; annoyed that she had been able to hit one of his exposed nerves.
She ignored his annoyance as she propositioned, "The wife of a very rich, influential businessman with shady dealings, such of Mister Carl's caliber would, perhaps not cause suspicion, if she had a bodyguard."
"Bodyguard?" Callen repeated, warming up to the idea, before he realized that Deeks and Kensi would be a couple at the club, and that Sam would be somewhere on the staff of the same club. There was no one left on the west coast that he trusted on such an assignment of protecting someone he cared for. "Who do you have in mind?"
However, he mistakenly forgot that there was indeed one man in the Los Angeles area that he had trusted for years, actually just as long as he had trusted Sam. He had forgotten, because the man was no longer on his team, but on a different team, a team that had a bullpen on the other side of the large building.
Mike Renko.
Thank y'all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, reviews, and constructive criticism. I appreciate all of 'em. I apologize for the wait that occurred between Chapters 7 and 8. If you would like to, you can friend me on facebook, in order to follow the behind the scenes progress of my stories, chat about the stories, the Nallen ship, or anything else really. My facebook URL is (without the spaces) http : www . facebook fan fic author bren gail