AN: Just wanted to drop in for a minute and say thank you to anyone who has left a review! I'm so glad you're all enjoying this story as much as I am, and I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much!

Chapter 10

Things were slowly returning to normal.

Nell had been cleared for duty, though she knew Callen thought she wasn't ready. Lucky for her, it was ultimately up to Granger and Hetty, and they both decided that they couldn't keep her away from NCIS forever. She had almost cried with relief when she sat at her desk for the first time in almost a month; her hands stroked lovingly over her keyboard as she waited for the computer to boot up, and even Eric's incessant questioning of her mental and physical health was music to her ears.

She had missed this place - these people - fiercely.

Callen was...well, he pretended to be unchanged by their abduction, but everyone who knew him could tell that was far from the truth. He tried to play it off by saying that he was just taking his job seriously, but sometimes when they were all up in Ops he stood so close to Nell that she felt claustrophobic, and he seemed to be able to find a myriad of reasons to be close to her. She appreciated it, she really did, but it was unnecessary. NCIS headquarters was one of the places she knew she was safe; it was like a second home to her.

She considered bringing it up to him, but every time she started to think about it all she could remember was when she admitted her feelings to him, and she instantly decided against it. She was still embarrassed about that, but thankfully he was a professional and never mentioned it, and she was grateful for that. She had meant what she said about not wanting to ruin their friendship, and he seemed to have agreed with that sentiment and was willing to pretend it had never happened.

The others - Sam and Deeks and Kensi - were all equally ready to put the last month's events in the past, and she loved them all for it. They were willing to listen if she needed to talk, but they refused to treat her like some fragile china doll that would crack at the smallest joke. She wished she could say the same for Eric, but she knew that he lacked the training and experiences of the others, and he only wanted to make sure she was okay. She understood his actions, she really did. He cared about her, and he had his own way of showing it.

Footsteps sounded on the floor behind her, and both she and Eric turned around to see Granger striding purposely toward them.

"Sir," Nell greeted him, and he nodded once to acknowledge her.

"Jones." He looked to Eric. "Beale."

"What's up?" Not the most professionally-worded question, but Nell knew he didn't mind. After so long around Callen's team, Owen Granger was beginning to loosen up.

A little.

"A case just came across my desk this morning." As more footsteps rang out from the metal staircase leading to Ops, he added, "The team's already on their way up."

She nodded and swiveled around, then gained remote access to Granger's desktop and searched for the case. There was an entry marked with today's date, so she punched a few keys to bring up the information just as Callen and the others made their way into the room. As expected, Callen came to stand to her left, and she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. At least he had quit putting his hand on the back of her chair. Maybe by the end of the week he would back up a few feet.

Granger waited until everyone was inside before he explained, "Daughter of a Navy captain was found dead in a motel a few miles outside LA."

As he spoke, Nell brought up the pictures and fought against a wave of nausea. The woman was around her age and height, lying on the floor with her torso in the bathroom and her lower half in the bedroom. Her skimpy silver cocktail dress was bloodied, and her once-lovely face was covered in cuts and bruises. Her black clutch had obviously been dumped out, and Nell could see a tube of lipstick that matched the shade the woman was wearing, as well as a ticket stub and a few other personal items spilled across the carpet. About three feet from her body, half under the bathroom vanity lay a wig - the cheap kind people bought to go with a Halloween costume - and it wasn't so much the length that got to Nell as the color. It was the same shade of red as her own, cut into a short 1920's style bob.

Beside her, Callen stiffened, and she knew he had noticed it as well. She didn't mind when he brushed his hand across her shoulder this time. Heck, if she could she would have jumped into his arms and buried her face against him, but as it was she merely steeled herself and brought up the woman's driver's license.

"Her name's Julie Paget, 27 years old," Nell put in, her voice soft. As she watched Eric bend over his keyboard and start researching each aspect of the case, she cleared her throat and added, "Lived in LA and worked as a cocktail server in a bar downtown."

"Preliminary exam says she died of asphyxiation," the assistant director put in, "but so far we have no suspects."

"Witnesses?" Sam asked.

Granger shook his head. "None so far. This motel isn't exactly in the classiest part of town, if you know what I mean. Most people are interested in keeping their anonymity, and no one wants to face retaliation for ratting someone else out."

"Great," Deeks grumbled. "What about drugs? Anything stolen from the victim?"

"Toxicology's not back yet. Local PD said nothing looked to be missing. Still had her purse, house keys, and a fairly large amount of money on her."

"So what's the theory?" Callen asked. "Retaliation against her father? Kidnapping gone bad?"

"Not quite. We think someone did attempt to kidnap her, not because of who her father is, but for human trafficking. Selling American women into prostitution in other countries." He tapped Nell's shoulder, and she nearly jumped in her seat before bringing up the information she knew he was asking her for. "We've got intel from a few sources overseas that there's a ring operating under the guise of a charity organization called 'World Path'..."

Eric took up the narrative next. "PATH is actually an acronym for 'Partnership against Trafficking of Humans."

"Of course," Callen put in. "What better way to go undetected than to pretend to work against the very crime you're commiting?"

Eric nodded. As he brought up their website, he went on. "To date, they've led a mission into over a dozen countries, 'rescuing' -" he mimed air quotes "- women from brothels and such and bringing them to the US for a better life."

"Lemme guess," Deeks grumbled, frowning deeply, "Working for a pimp-slash-drug dealer."

"That's the theory," Eric agreed.

"How haven't they been caught yet?" Callen asked. "Someone's gotta have connected the dots."

"Their CEO is well-connected, and so far anyone who's come forward has been discredited."

"Or died," Eric said. "Unsurprisingly, of drug overdoses."

The looks traded around the room said that no one believed that none of those that had died had done so by their own hand.

"What about surveillance cameras?" Kensi asked. "There's got be security footage somewhere. Her workplace, maybe?"

"We'll start looking," Nell told her.

"Someone had to see her leave after her shift," Deeks said. "Kensi and I will go talk to her coworkers."

Granger nodded. "Callen and Sam, go check out the crime scene."

"I think we should have a word with her father, too," Callen suggested, but before Granger could reply another voice spoke from the doorway.

"Leave that to me, Mr. Callen."

Everyone turned to see Hetty entering Ops, a slight frown on her face. She only stopped once she was in the middle of the room, and Nell smiled. Even at her height, she instantly managed to become the center of attention.

Callen's frown mirrored hers. "Hetty," he began, but she held up a hand.

"Time is of the essence, Mr. Callen. There are other women in danger here, and there is no telling what might happen to them if we do not find them soon."

He clenched his jaw, but relented. The look he gave both bosses, however, clearly conveyed his frustration with them. He did not appreciate Granger springing this case on them, especially with Nell in the room. She'd been through enough lately, and despite her protests that she was fine and ready to work, he could see how affected she was by the whole thing.

"Let's go, G," Sam said, and he nodded and followed his partner from the room. Kensi and Deeks soon left as well, and both Hetty and Granger similarly disappeared with little more than a murmured goodbye.

Nell looked over at Eric and noticed the strange expression on his face. "What?" She asked with a frown.

"Nothing."

"Good." She turned back to her computer and continued typing.

"It's just..."

She sighed and tipped her head back. Swiveling to face him again, she said, "Look, I know what you're gonna say, and I'm fine. This is our job. If I couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have come back."

"I know, but you've been through a lot. It's gotta be hard seeing all this."

"It's not easy," she agreed. "But I need to get back to work doing what I'm good at, afraid or not."

He regarded her from behind his glasses, then slowly nodded. Blowing out a breath, he said, "I see your point. But if this gets too much for you, let me know and I'll take over."

Her smile was as genuine as his concern. "Deal."

Callen and Sam walked into the hotel room, stopping just inside the door. The local cops had long since finished up, though the crime scene tape was still wrapped across the open door frame. The body was gone, taken by the coroner to do an autopsy, but the pool of blood the victim had lay in was still there, drying to a dark rusty-brown on the worn carpet.

Callen looked around at the drab room, at the threadbare curtains holding back the morning sun. The paint on the walls was far from the clean white it had once been, and the whole room smelled of cigarette smoke and something else that he did not care to investigate further. He wrinkled his nose and debated breathing through his nose for only a moment before vetoing the idea. He was already feeling sick enough smelling it; tasting it would definitely be much worse.

Sam noticed the look on his face and allowed a smile to flit across his lips. "You okay over there?"

"Fine," Callen told him as he crouched down to get a closer look at the blood. "Sam, look at this."

His partner came over and stood beside him, and Callen pointed to the edge of the pool nearest the door. It had been slightly smeared, as if someone had stepped there. "That look like a shoe print to you?"

"Could be," Sam said. "We should get a photo."

Callen had already reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tried holding it at a few different angles before he found one that would give the clearest image, then snapped a picture and sent it to Eric. He then dialed Eric's number, and after only one ring the analyst picked up.

"Eric," Callen greeted him. "I sent you a pic of what looks like a shoe print. It's kinda light, but there might be a tread there."

"Sure thing," Eric replied. "I'll call you back if I get anything."

Callen hung up without saying goodbye and put his phone away. Standing up, he put his hands on his hips and did another visual survey of the room. He was acutely aware that Sam was watching him, but he pretended not to notice.

"G."

He moved to walk toward the bathroom, but Sam blocked his path. Callen huffed, but stood still and stared at him. "What?"

"What's going on?"

He played dumb. "Nothing. Everything's fine. Well, except there was a murder here that we're supposed to be investigating..."

Sam shook his head. "Something's bothering you."

"A lot about this bothers me, Sam. Someone tried to kidnap this woman and basically sell her into slavery. And when that didn't work and she fought back or tried to escape, they killed her."

"Not about the case," Sam sighed. "Well, not directly."

Callen inhaled deeply. He considered lying some more, but he knew Sam would see through him. They had been partners for a long time, and Sam had been there for him too many times to count. He didn't deserve anything but the truth.

"I'm still pissed at Granger," he finally admitted. "He didn't have to involve Nell in this. Not after..." He trailed off, unable to put words to his thoughts.

"You don't think she should've seen this," Sam said as he fit the pieces together, and Callen nodded. "It's too close to what she - what you both - went through."

"She's not ready, Sam."

"She thinks she is."

"But she's not!" Callen argued. "I'm still not okay, and I didn't even..." his eyes widened in horror as he realized he'd almost disclosed something he had no business revealing. Looking away guiltily, he said, "I don't know how she's even functioning."

"She has us," Sam replied simply. "Look, Nell's stronger than you're giving her credit for. She knows what she can handle."

"But..."

Sam shook his head. "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she thinks the same about you? That maybe she worries about how you're doing? Because that's where we all are right now."

"I don't..."

"We're all worried about you. You're the lead agent, here. You keep us all together, make sure we're all where we need to be, professionally and otherwise. And if you're not a hundred percent, we all suffer."

Callen stared at his best friend, the man he considered his brother. He was right, and they both knew it.

"You two went through some twisted, messed-up bullshit," Sam went on, "and I'm not gonna tell you that I understand how you're feeling or that you should deal with it and move on. I saw your face when you came out of that warehouse, and I'll be honest with you, it scared me. For the first time, I wasn't sure you were gonna be the same. And maybe you aren't, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe Nell's changed, too. But you need to stop being afraid of that."

Callen swallowed thickly. "I can't help it, Sam. She was...I was responsible for her and I let her down."

Sam's dark brown eyes rolled heavenward for only a moment. "You didn't. What happened, happened to both of you. Neither of you were able to control the situation." He walked toward the window and looked out onto the street below, commiting everything to memory for later reflection. "She told me you were considering desk-duty."

Callen shrugged. "I was...weighing my options at the time."

"And now?"

"She was right; I can't be stuck behind a desk, be the one sending you guys out on dangerous missions."

"You'd go nuts," Sam said, and Callen nodded.

"Pretty much."

"So, no more thinking about quitting?"

"What, and leave you without a partner?" Callen asked with a smirk. "Never."

TBC...