AN: Thank you to all reviewers, and everyone else who has added this to their alerts, your feedback is very motivating! If this chapter had a title, it'd be along the lines of "yes, they actually do have jobs that they have to get to, at some point."
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Callen's first meeting with Salvatore Donatacci occurred four days later on a beautiful Saturday evening. He'd arranged a dinner with Salvatore and his wife Maria at their Italian restaurant, Bella's, to outline his proposal. If it were a few years earlier, Nell would have resented being at work on the weekend, but she was used to it by now. Besides, she wouldn't have actually wanted to be anywhere other than watching over her team when they needed her.
Since the meeting was preliminary, and Callen intended to work out the terms of their arrangement with Donatacci, Kensi wasn't supposed to accompany him. The risk for tonight was low. Taking advantage of that, Granger had asked Kensi to assist him with some mysterious operation no one was supposed to ask questions about (which basically meant it was a typical Granger operation). Apparently their time in Afghanistan had led to Granger feeling Kensi was his go-to agent; she didn't feel the same, but she accepted it, since it was her job. At least this time she had made him swear he wouldn't take her out of the country again.
Kensi's absence was only the first of many things to go wrong.
While Callen went over last minute details with Eric and Hetty, Deeks decided it was a perfect time to try on the designer clothing Hetty usually wouldn't let him touch.
"Be honest, how handsome does this make me look?" Deeks had asked each time he tried on yet another new suit and admired himself in the mirror. Nell hadn't thought anything of it, because it was Deeks, and he was usually doing something ridiculous (or as he called it: "part of his charm").
"Are you doing anything to help us, or are you happy to put on your one-person fashion show?" Nell asked.
He buttoned his third jacket of the night and turned in a circle. "I rock designer suits better than Callen does! You can't deny it, Nell. Don't even try."
"This is me not trying," she said, though it was more that she was trying not to laugh.
"This could have been all yours," he said, winking at her in the mirror. "We would have been magic together. Bet you're regretting your choices now, huh?"
"Aw, that's sweet. Too bad you don't love me."
Deeks placed his hand over his heart and staggered over to her. "That hurts, Nell. I love you deeply."
"I love you, too," she told him seriously. "Let me rephrase what I meant: you're not in love with me."
"Who needs a marriage based on that?" Deeks teased.
Nell knew he meant it rhetorically; she answered anyways. "Me. And you."
"You drive a hard line, Nell. I guess I have to concede." He kissed her hand and went back to the mirror.
"What are you conceding?" Callen asked, as he came down the stairs.
"Why Nell and I aren't a good match," Deeks informed him, and couldn't resist sending a sly glance Nell's way. "Love-wise, that is."
"Oh really?" Callen sounded intrigued by the topic. "You mean aside from the obvious?"
"The obvious being that I'm a catch?" Deeks played with a tie around his collar, and Nell wondered if he knew what he was doing.
Callen glanced between them and appeared to seriously think it over. "Actually, I could see it. Endless days where you two could have bonded over…what's your favorite topic, Deeks? How amazing Kensi is?"
"I don't…what are…that's nothing to do with this conversation," he muttered, ripping the tie off and throwing it back into the endless racks of clothing.
Callen would have gone on, but Nell shook her head in a silent signal to leave him alone, and he acquiesced. He noticed his suit jacket wasn't draped over the chair where he'd left it. "Deeks."
The tone must have conveyed the question, as Deeks hastily took off the jacket he was wearing. It was the one from Callen's chair, he was sure. Well, 95%. "I was getting it ready for you by pre-wearing it."
Callen shot him a strange look and put on the jacket. Nell pulled on the lapels to straighten it out. She also unnecessarily adjusted the tie. Maybe she was stalling for a little more time. Could anyone blame her? The feeling from a few days before hadn't gone away – it had only gotten worse with time.
Deeks gave him a thumbs up. "Everyone who lays eyes on you will know that you are a man of means. A man who gets what he wants. A man who –"
"I got it," Callen interrupted. He appreciated the pep talk, and knew Deeks would go on forever if given half the chance. Everyone seemed on edge tonight. Sam had left earlier to get to the restaurant first, and he'd been unnaturally irritable, a sign he wasn't entirely comfortable with their operation. Callen mentally brushed all his thoughts aside in order to focus, and then literally had to brush Deeks aside in order to stand in front of the mirror.
Nell stepped up beside him, taking his arm and surveying their reflection. "You look good," she told him.
"I have eyes," he informed her, achieving his intention of making her smile.
"Never one to pass up an opportunity for complimenting yourself, right?" She didn't actually mind.
"Nope. Though I have to admit," he tilted his head at their reflection, "you make me look better."
She blushed slightly, a hard-wired response she'd never been able to fully control. Deeks took the opportunity to insert himself between them and throw an arm around each of their shoulders. "That's a given, am I right? The lovely Nell elevates all of us. The only thing that could make this picture more gorgeous? Me in the middle."
Callen couldn't get mad at him, because Nell was laughing, and that far eclipsed any irritation he might have felt at the other man. He knew she had misgivings about their plan and didn't know how else to reassure her. He could tell her a thousand times that everything would be fine, but he knew she wouldn't truly relax until this particular operation was behind them. They'd had an associate of Donatacci's previous money launderer vouch for Callen (under duress), but that didn't mean anything if someone suspected Callen of not being who he claimed to be.
Deeks disappeared into the racks and came back with at least a dozen ties. "Are you sure you want to go with that tie?" He asked Callen, trying to be helpful. "What about one that brings out your eyes a bit more?" He started holding up ties next to Callen's face.
Callen pushed him away as Nell watched them worriedly. "The one he's wearing is fine. I think." She truly didn't know anymore.
"My impression tonight matters," Callen reminded them, and then took a moment to scrutinize his tie. Damn it, Deeks. He finally grabbed a different tie and threw the rest back at Deeks. "Happy now?"
"I'm trying to keep you alive," Deeks told him gravely.
Nell ignored him. "Donatacci would be a fool to turn you down." She helped Callen knot the new tie. "I mean, in truth he'd be a fool to accept since you're actually an undercover agent, but…" she trailed off. "You know what I mean." She reached up to adjust his tie again.
"I do," he said, placing his hands over hers. "Nell, I think it's as straight as it's going to get."
"Yeah," she acknowledged. "Probably. Just…come back safe, okay?"
"I always do," he promised. He let her continue adjusting his tie for another thirty seconds anyways. "Nell."
She nodded at his implied statement (he'd always been able to convey so much while saying so little). "Okay. Go." She pushed him away and went upstairs with Deeks to join Eric in Ops. Any other decision would probably have involved trailing after him in some sort of breach of protocol that would get her in serious trouble. She hated worrying, since she knew how useless it was, and she hated it even more when said worrying would be scrutinized for reasons she couldn't control.
They'd been sure they had every base covered. This was also the point where Nell shifted the blame to Callen, because she couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed that the most important item wasn't with him: the flash drive that contained all the documents needed to help him prove that he and his wife were capable of doing what he claimed – launder money.
It was a half hour later, when Callen was already seated in the restaurant, that he noticed the flash drive was inexplicably missing. Maria Donatacci had been keeping him company until her husband could join them. When a problem in the kitchen caused her to excuse herself, he called Eric, who switched him to intercom so everyone could hear Callen explain that he'd checked every pocket and also had Sam check the car, but it was nowhere to be found.
"That's impossible," Eric said. "Where would it have gone?"
"I don't know, Eric. That's why I'm calling." Callen sounded somewhat amused, as if this were funny. "I put it in my jacket and then I went to talk with you and Hetty, and when I came back, Deeks…"
At that moment, it was as if everyone had the same realization.
Nell swiveled her head to face their liaison. "Did you give him back the right jacket?"
"I'm sure I did," he sounded affronted, then stopped to think. "I mean…I'm reasonably sure."
"Reasonably?" Nell was sure her gaze must have signaled imminent death, as Deeks said he'd go check and ran out of Ops faster than she'd ever seen him flee.
Hetty entered the room and Eric quickly filled her in. Deeks was back in a matter of minutes, holding the flash drive. "Sorry, Callen. My bad. I take full blame for this one."
"Deeks gave you the wrong jacket." Eric summarized for Callen what their lead agent had already suspected.
Deeks recognized that Nell was probably moments away from strangling him at this turn of events. "Don't kill me," he begged, backing away from her. He spotted their boss lurking in the corner of the room. "Hetty –"
"You best look elsewhere for saving, Mr. Deeks."
"Callen, help me!" He yelled.
"He's not going to save you," Nell warned.
"You're on your own for this one, Deeks," Callen confirmed.
He sure had that right. Deeks looked between Hetty and Nell, not knowing who he'd rather be further away from. "I'm going to…hang out in the back of the room."
"Thanks, that helps me," Callen said, unintentionally breaking the tension, and Nell tried to focus on how they could fix this.
"I spent hours making that drive," Eric told everyone, indignantly.
"It took you 38 minutes, I was with you," Nell reminded him. "And yes, that's a compliment, and it's beside the point. Can you send the documents to his phone?"
Eric shrugged. "I could, but it will take a while. And it'd seem strange for Callen to bring information that way, since it would mean handing over his phone for an indeterminate time. I don't have to remind you that anything that appears strange is basically a license for them to say 'let's shoot this guy in the back alley in case he's a fed'."
Nell was sure she stopped breathing at that line – so sure that she had no idea how she spoke her next word. "What?"
Eric hastily backtracked. "Not that they'd do that. I'm only throwing out hypotheticals, here."
"Your hypotheticals are not reassuring, Eric." Callen was starting to sound as exasperated as Nell felt.
"We'll bring it to you," Hetty told him. "However, Agent Blye is unavailable."
"Have my assistant bring it to me," Callen said. "That'd be you, Nell."
She kept her face carefully blank, though it didn't matter since he couldn't see her. "Your assistant."
"My lovely assistant?" It was almost as if he thought the addition of the compliment would make her less reluctant.
"Wouldn't it be better for Deeks to go?" Eric asked. He was always looking for any excuse to keep Nell out of the field.
"I don't know that I'd call him lovely," Callen quipped. "Nell, go get dressed."
"You'll pay for this later," she swore.
"Don't I always? Why are you still in the room?"
Oh yeah, he was definitely paying for it later. She left while thinking up payback scenarios in her head.
Eric tried again to get Deeks to go in Nell's place, and Hetty interrupted. "Mr. Deeks can't go due to his personal history with the Donatacci family."
"I forgot Eric missed that hilarious story," Callen said. "Someone fill him in, I have to go."
He hung up and Deeks shrugged at Eric's obvious curiosity. "It's nothing big, I have a history with them from when I worked with the LAPD. Let's say they never want to see me again."
"Did you put some of them in jail?"
"Nothing so noble, Mr. Beale," Hetty said, and Deeks was forced to once again explain why every member of the Donatacci family hated him.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Nell rummaged through the racks of clothing with increasing dread.
Hetty had abandoned Ops to help Nell prepare and reassure her that everything would be fine.
To her credit, Hetty tried to make the entire plan sound as optimistic as she could. "It will only take a few minutes. Remember two things – you're his assistant, and you're bringing him the flash drive he left at the office." Hetty grabbed a dress from a rack and threw it at her, not even pausing as she moved on to handbags. Nell dropped the orange and yellow striped dress as if it were on fire (who did the shopping around here, Deeks?) and rummaged around for something – anything – conservative.
She didn't want to dress up too much, though she felt that Callen's assistant would at least make herself presentable if she were going to a high-end restaurant, even if it was just to give him something he'd forgotten. She found a black dress and held it up in question. Deeks had made his way downstairs and nodded in approval. Then he made a quip about making sure to check that she had the flash drive with her before she left. She debated strangling him with the dress, but the fabric was too nice to ruin it that way. She thought she felt some polyester back there…
Too bad time was of the essence, which meant she had to cut her murder fantasies short. Eric came dashing down the stairs and stopped in front of them, slightly out of breath. He hated that he even had to participate in this – as far as he was concerned, Nell did not belong in the field. However, he had a job to do, and he'd never refuse it because of his personal objections. He handed Nell a license. "I made this for you. Not that I think you'll need it, but better safe than sorry."
Nell glanced at it – 'Nell Black'. "Cute," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Callen's last name at the moment was 'White'.
"Kind of poetic, how you two found each other, don't you think?" Eric smirked. "Black and White, working together to right the injustices of a world that is never black and white, but all too often shades of gray…" he stared off into space until she cleared her throat. "I didn't create a backstory for you, that license is just a precaution. If it comes down to it, I can make one if we really need to…"
"Don't worry about it. No one will even see it," she reassured him, dropping the ID into a plain handbag Hetty had procured from God knows where, and why was it designer?
"This is crazy," she said, holding up the Louis Vuitton bag. "He does not pay me this well."
"It's on the lower-end," Hetty waved her off. "And he does pay you that well. At least, if he's a criminal half as good as he claims."
"Fine," Nell relented. "I'm not responsible for any scuffs, stains, or other damage."
"Oh yes, you are," Hetty said, then sighed when Nell went and changed the purse for a much cheaper one.
Nell started pinning her hair back into a simple knot, since she was pressed for time. "Are you sure I'm the best choice?" She asked (of everyone in general). "Deeks wouldn't have to go in the restaurant, maybe it's safer for Callen to come outside for a minute and Deeks can slip him the flash drive. If he dresses the part they'd probably look right past him. He could be a waiter, I mean look at him! Or what about having Callen meet Sam outside?"
Deeks smiled at her. "Thanks for the compliment, Nell, though I think it might look suspicious if Callen goes to meet some guy outside. Plus, I don't think I'd fit in with the wait staff, even if I do clean up quite nicely."
"Look at his hair," Eric interrupted. "No respectable restaurant would let a guy who looks like he lives in the back alley wait tables for their extravagantly rich customers."
This, obviously, instigated a fight between Eric and Deeks over which one of them could best impersonate a server at an upscale restaurant. Nell let them waste valuable time as she grabbed some low heels and then went to the changing room to get ready.
"Alright," she announced as she emerged, causing Deeks and Eric to freeze in the middle of their argument over which shoe brand had the most sophisticated, yet comfortable, footwear for servers.
"You look incredible," Eric breathed.
"Definitely," Deeks agreed. "I said it before and I'll say it again – Callen is one lucky man. I can see why he hired you as his assistant. Not that looks are all you have to offer," he hastily added.
"Thank you," Nell told them, somewhat uncomfortable with the praise.
"I'll be outside Bella's the whole time with Sam," Deeks said solemnly, which made her feel better.
"I know," she patted his arm and then turned to Hetty. "Are you sure about this?"
"I have confidence in you," Hetty reassured her.
"Confidence is not what I'm thinking about." Nell knew she was second-guessing too much; she couldn't help it. "I don't want this to cause problems. Will it?"
Everyone recognized the way Hetty stealthily avoided Nell's concern. "I think I've proven over time that my judgment in certain situations supersedes the occasionally arcane rules of NCIS."
"So that's a no, it's not the best idea," Nell nodded. "Just confirming it, for posterity."
Eric wondered if there was any last ditch way to get Nell out of going into the field. Chances were everything would be fine, though there was always the possibility that things could go sideways, especially when you were dealing with people who were involved in organized crime. Plus, Nell hadn't had any real preparation for it. "Hetty, maybe we should come up with a few more contingency plans in case something goes wrong. What if someone starts asking Nell questions she can't answer? What if –"
"Not enough time." Hetty sent him an inscrutable look. "We have a small window here. Remember, they're meeting for dinner. That means at dinnertime, Mr. Beale, not midnight. Unless we want to raise untoward suspicion about why Mr. Callen does not have the proof he promised to bring, we have to go now."
Eric's shoulders slumped. "I don't want to put Nell in unnecessary danger."
Nell ignored the resentment at being talked about as if she weren't in the room. "I appreciate the concern, Eric. However, do you really think I'm in danger if I go to Bella's? Where Callen is? For two minutes?" The emphasis meant, of course, that she was probably safer anywhere Callen was, even if she was surrounded by criminals. Besides, she wasn't one to shy away from danger because she was afraid. It didn't matter what she felt – she would hide it or ignore it to the best of her ability, and do what they asked of her so that Callen could reel in their mark. Their operation was on the line and she intended to do whatever she could to make sure it didn't derail.
Eric knew Nell was right, and he trusted her. He had to accept that it wasn't up to him, and he also had to admit that it had been apparent to him for some time that she was almost as excellent in the field as Kensi, if given the chance. Whether Nell knew (or believed) that was up for debate.
"You have to go." Hetty acted as the word of final authority. She shot Nell an arch look. "Remember you're his employee. Pretend you like him, and you'll be golden."
"I don't know, that might be hard," Nell remarked, somewhat dryly.
Deeks guided her toward the exit. "Do what I do: when in doubt, don't second guess yourself, or change your course of action – forge straight ahead with passion and commitment. Those two things will get you through."
"Mr. Deeks," Hetty yelled after them, "stop giving 'advice'."
Their ride to Bella's consisted mostly of Deeks apologizing repeatedly to her about placing her and Callen in this situation, and it took some time to convince him to forget about it. Rehashing it didn't help anything, and if she had to be honest, they'd all made mistakes, even her. Why hadn't she asked Callen if he had the flash drive? Why hadn't Eric, or Hetty? At this point, it didn't matter what they'd done (or failed to do), what mattered was fixing it. Besides, she knew it'd be a topic of their debriefing after this was over. Granger would have a field day with it, for sure. She was already preparing her "It's not what goes wrong, it's how we fix it" speech in her head.
Deeks sensed her sinking mood and tried to cheer her up by going on about his 'good old days' back on the force and how he loved 'taking down mobsters'. Nell admirably kept her skepticism in check, though if she believed half the stories he told, he could have run the Organized Crime division of the FBI by himself.
When they pulled up to the restaurant, she grasped his hand in a gesture of silent thanks. "I'll be okay," she said, though she didn't know if it was to reassure herself, or him.
"It's practically over already," he remarked. He was going around the corner to team up with Sam and stay out of sight.
Nell took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Any last suggestions?"
"Be yourself. You're reasonably likeable when you want to be." That earned him a smile. "Don't overthink it."
She nodded at him before exiting the car, and she knew she should have every reason to believe things would go fine. When was Hetty ever wrong in the calls she made? The woman seemed to have an almost omniscient view of the world. If Hetty said it would be fine, then it would be fine.
However, as she walked toward the restaurant, she had a stray thought about her track record. For someone who rarely went into the field on missions, she'd been in danger for a significant portion of that time. How many times had she almost been murdered? She had a strange habit of finding herself left alone with psychopaths. She could only hope this time would be different.
She repeated it to herself, almost like a mantra: nothing would go wrong…or rather, nothing more would go wrong than had already gone wrong.
Yeah, she knew it was a futile thought before she stepped through the front doors.
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