Chapter Seventeen

As Nell entered the main area of wardrobe, she considered what Deeks had said. Perhaps he had been right about Callen being out of her league. How would she know when he was being Callen and when he was being his alias? She was discouraged not only about Callen, but that the woman who had been so cruel to her was now her temporary replacement. She was angry. As she walked further into the main area of the wardrobe department, she saw Mike standing on a square six-inch platform while Tara took his measurements.

"You can look Nell," Mike grinned, his bright white teeth shining and his blue eyes twinkled in mischief, "I'm devilishly handsome, I know."

Tara snorted and muttered something about him being a devil. Nell arched an eyebrow amused with him. Perhaps she should give him a chance, offer a truce as Deeks had suggested. They would be working closely together for who knows when. He would be her bodyguard, so she was going to be stuck with him every second of the day. Only getting relief from him at night when she was with Callen, in bed with Callen. She shook her head as if that physical motion would erase the mental image of what her thoughts had caused.

She silently told herself, "Focus, Nell. Focus on Mike. Mike was a great acquaintance before this and he will be a great friend during and after this. After all, he is the only one that is not coddling you; even Hetty is trying to protect you. He'd be a great ally. He is funny. He can't be all bad, because the others are friends with him."

The irony that her bodyguard was the only one not trying to protect her was not lost on her. Perhaps she could learn more about Callen through Mike. She knew that Mike would never betray Callen's confidence, but the little things, the details that made G. Callen, G. Callen, were things that she did not know, Mike did. She felt as if she had a better chance at pumping Mike for answers than Sam. She adored Sam, she respected him, but she respectfully feared him, too. Not physically fear, although no one would blame her for it, if she did, but she feared him more on a mental, emotional level. Sam was the closest person to Callen who had been in his life consistently whereas Mike had entered and exited several times due to assignments and transfers. Sam's opinion of her meant a lot to her, because she felt that Sam had the power to alter Callen's opinion of her.

Mike grinned at the distant look Nell gave him, as if she was thinking hard about something. He continued to joke, "You aren't used to such good lucks around here. It's okay, get your fill." He held his arms outward to the side, palms upward as if he was on display for everyone to look at, he added, in a high-pitched girlish voice as placed his left hand on his hip, and made a Z in the air in front of him with his right index finger, "Remember you can look, but you can't touch."

She laughed. He reminded her of Deeks, although a darker, perhaps more dangerous Deeks. More dangerous, because she knew Deeks, trusted Deeks, and neither could be said about how she felt about Mike. Sure, she trusted that Mike was efficient at his job, but anything more than that was unknown. They had never really interacted enough to get to know the other; not to mention that they had gotten off on the wrong foot earlier.

He smiled genuinely at her laugh.

The ice was broken.

Tara shook her head at his antics as she looked up at him, rolled the tape measure, and placed it in her pocket, "Measurements are finished," She told him before she looked at Nell, "Nell, you are beautiful. Is that the dress you've chosen for tomorrow?"

Before Nell could answer, Mike spoke up, "It's your decision, Nell, but I'd save it for Thursday when we go to the one beside Doyle's."

"We?" Nell asked confused.

"Yeah," Mike answered, "Starting tomorrow, where you or Callen go, Sam and I go, no matter how menial or safe it seems."

"Oh," Nell stated, not realizing that they would tag along to a house showing, but it made sense. Appearances would be everything. "Why this dress? I look like a tootsie roll. How is a tootsie roll sexy? No offence, Tara, it's a beautiful dress, it looked better on the hanger, but yeah, I think it makes me look like a tootsie roll."

Mike smirked and playfully said, "You're the tastiest looking tootsie roll I've seen." Her eyes bulged at his audacity. He rolled his eyes, "Joke, Nell, joke, though you are stunning."

Tara shook her head and went to the back of the wardrobe area to start taking out the hem of some of the suits he would wear. Mike jumped down from the stool and walked over to Nell. He whispered close to her ear so that only she could hear, "Callen loves tootsie rolls, but he prefers the kind he has to work at to get to. He gets bored when they are easy to devour," He paused dramatically before he added in an innocent tone, "Tootsie roll pops, of course."

However, Nell understood the message that Mike had wanted to convey, and it was not about the suckers Callen preferred on stakeouts.

She took a step backward and he did the same. She extended her right hand and said, "Truce?" She paused, "I can't promise that you won't make me mad and I can't promise that I won't irritate you, but for the sake of Callen and the mission, I think we can set aside whatever differences of opinion we have." She paused as he took her offered hand, she added, "And I can't promise you that I won't hurt him, but I can and will promise that I will try not to. And, I'll try to be nicer to you."

"Truce," He agreed. He shook her hand and said, "That's all I ask, Nell, try not to hurt him, because he'll do everything in his power to not hurt you."

Nell nodded, walked away, and went back to the fitting room that she had used earlier.

As soon as she entered the fitting room, she locked the door behind her. She slipped off the high heels and shimmied out of the form fitting deep brown dress. She tried on the three other dresses, one aqua blue the same cut as the deep brown, one pristine white A-line dress with pretty embroidered lace sleeves, and one emerald green strapless evening gown with a corset cinched waist. She decided that she would wear the white dress tomorrow and as Mike suggested, save the brown one for Thursday. She loved the aqua blue color of the similar dress, but she could not place the reasoning behind her preference. The aqua blue she would save for a special occasion much as she would the evening gown. Just as she put on the dress she had worn to work, there was a knock on the door, and the doorknob jiggled, but did not turn. She had learned her lesson, however she, also, knew that a locked door was nothing for any of the Agents and even some of the support staff that inhabited the office.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a minute. Unmoving, she stared at it as if in a trance.

"Open the door," Callen said, his voice penetrating the door.

"Don't wanna," Nell replied childishly as she put her shoes on.

The doorknob turned and he slipped into the room. The door closed silently, but she saw him enter, she half expected it. "Callen," She sighed deeply, chastising him as if he was an impetuous child, "Stop showing off your ability to pick a lock."

He shrugged, "If you had opened the door, I wouldn't have had to." He paused, trailed his blue eyes from her hazel down to her feet back to her eyes, "This dress is pretty, but it doesn't show off your sexuality as well as the other."

She groaned in frustration and narrowed her eyes. From the time they had said hello this morning, he had overwhelmed her and she was not prepared to relinquish control over to him. "Callen," She sighed as she resolutely walked to a chair in the corner near the mirrored wall and sat. "You can't keep on doing this," She lightly hugged her midsection as she started to understand why Hetty had warned her not to start anything with him before or during the Op. Nell could not focus and was becoming both upset and scared at how much she was allowing him to affect her. In one breath, she rambled, her tone of voice alternating between normal and high pitched, "I can't keep doing this. It's too much, too soon. I'm not some woman you can flash a sexy grin at, flirt shamelessly with, and attempt to seduce so that I'll fall at your feet and hand you control. I'm not wired that way. I need control, Callen, and when," She paused. She groaned in embarrassment as she glanced at Callen whom was watching her carefully as if she would bolt from the chair and attempt to leave. "And when, gah," She grumbled in frustration.

He walked over to where she was seating, bent his knees, and hunkered down so that they were eye-level, his forearms rested on his denim clad thighs as he clasped his hands together near his knees. He said, "Nell, talk to me. We need to clear the air before in the morning. The Op starts tomorrow with the house showing. We have suspicion that the Realtor is on Doyle's payroll. She shows the house next to him to very few people and when she looked at 'our' financials that was the first house she suggested."

Nell looked up at the ceiling; of course, he wanted to talk about the case, when she was trying to reveal one of her flaws, a flaw that could be fatal. She was a control freak going under cover with no experience that was supposed to play the part of a submissive trophy wife to a man she in reality loved with all her heart, yet the man was only a friend, a colleague, her temporary field partner. She was screwed. "No, you know what," She changed her mind she could not do this, she could not communicate her deepest fears when he was one of them. She feared he would take the control she craved away from her. He was a dominant personality, an Alpha Male; taking control was as easy as breathing. "I'm sorry, I'm just having a meltdown. Ignore me."

"No, I'm not going to ignore you." He retorted. "Especially with what you said, we have to clear the air about any misgivings that you have. I'm sorry that you feel as if the case is too much, too soon, but really, Nell, we don't have the luxury of time for you to get on board and have the proper training of a field agent." She flinched at his honesty, but she was grateful that he was no longer handling her with kid gloves. "I have faith that you can handle it. I am truly sorry that you're being subjected to this sort of case. If I understand your 'meltdown' correctly, you feel as if I'm coming on too strong, right?"

She was silent. She was completely mortified. She was trying to make him understand that it was hard for her to relinquish control to him, even to want to relinquish control to him, was hard, but he spoke about the case. She was going to strangle him and she told him so, "If you keep talking about the frackin' case, I'm going to strangle you."

He blinked surprised by her threat and what she said, "Then what is causing your meltdown? If not the case?"

Her mouth dropped open to form a perfect O. She had thought that she could not become more mortified or embarrassed, but she had and more. She closed her mouth and eyed the door over Callen's shoulder. She had to leave; she could no longer be in such a small space with him. She went to stand, but he stood, blocking her. She felt as if Mike had been wrong about Callen doing everything in his power to not hurt her, because he already was, or rather she corrected herself, that was untrue, because this hurt, this mortification was on her, not Callen. She had misinterpreted Callen's behavior and intentions toward her. She was ashamed of herself for not realizing that Callen had already slipped into his alias. She bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to determine when he had. Her jaw clenched, she raised her head proudly even though she wanted to cower, and she resolutely stared at Callen's shoulder

"Nell," He prompted. The anger and fear in her eyes and in the set of her body language touched his heart and he sighed in understanding, or rather what he thought he understood. Her emotions were all over the place, not even she knew what she was feeling, or thinking, so he was unable to correctly read her. "Come here," He hugged her. She was stiff and unresponsive. "I'm sorry," He apologized.

The trace of hurt in his apology hurt her.

She bit her lip as she loosely, awkwardly hugged him back to try to let him know that she was there for him, but in actuality, how much was she able to be there for him, when she was the cause of his pain? And he, her pain? Not for the first time in the past several minutes, she understood that Hetty had been right. It was best for them to wait until after the mission, but the realization was too late, because whatever it was between, they had started, and if Nell was honest, it had started before the undercover assignment.

She rested her head against his chest. His lips tilted upward in a small, relieved smile at the minor contact. He was uncertain what had caused her to react to him this way, to have this meltdown, to change her mind about them, because earlier she had been fine. His eyes narrowed, as he formed a hypothesis, and he decided that another talk with Mike was due. However, his hypothesis was wrong, her reaction had nothing to do with Mike, but another blue eyed man, himself.

He sighed, "I'll back off. I didn't realize that you don't want to act on our attraction." She lifted her head from his chest and glanced up at him. Her brow furrowed, he continued, "I can see that now. But, we have to put on a show once we slip into our aliases."

She blinked and her brow furrowed more. He was confusing her about talk of the case then their attraction and once they slipped into their aliases. She thought that he had already slipped into his. Had she been mistaken? She hoped so, but she allowed him to continue without interruption.

"I don't know what to tell you," He said regretfully, "To make the case less awkward. Forcing yourself to do intimate acts, even as innocent as kissing someone for the sake of an alias, or a case is one part, practically the only part, of going undercover that I don't enjoy. I don't know how you or how a woman would feel in that situation," As he talked, she stepped back away from, his mixed signals was confusing her and to be honest it pissed her off. She turned away from and busied herself with the dresses that Tara had given her. She smoothed out invisible wrinkles and picked imaginary lint off of the beautiful, flawless, clean dresses. "Maybe you can talk to Kensi about how to get into the mentality, how to block the awkwardness, disgust, fear; whatever it is that is making you uncomfortable with me." He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just know that I'll take care of you and that anything that happens between us won't be judged during or after," He cleared his throat, "You won't be judged by me or the others."

His sentiment was nice and she appreciated his reassurance, but she knew that it was a lie, a well-meaning lie that he might think is a truth. Knowing Callen, he probably believed that they could cut through some red tape, take some shortcuts, find some loopholes and disguise some of what they knew would happen. But she knew better, she was normally the one that executed those shortcuts, loopholes, and hid information within information. She knew that if someone looked hard enough, no matter how much something was hidden, that anything and everything that happened during the duration of the Operation could and would be found. Officially, what was to happen should be in their case reports, not to mention any audio or video obtained would be logged, no matter what was on it. A part of her was grateful for Deeks for pointing it out, for reminding her about the electronic logging, but most of her wanted to revert back to being distracted, being oblivious. Not for the first time since she had heard of the assignment, she believed that there would be permanent repercussions from this particular case. However, she now worried whether she would be able to handle those repercussions.

Their careers, reputations, and so much more would be on the line if it was revealed that Carlton "Carl" and Eleanor "Nell" Grayson were only aliases on paper, that throughout the execution of those aliases, the aliases had been stripped down to the point where G. Callen and Nell Jones were easily distinguishable.

Owen Granger was banking on them to make a mistake.

A fatal mistake.

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