- A little earlier than start of previous chapter-

Callen was awake. It was early. Not exactly an abnormal state for him, considering his sleeping patterns or lack of them. It wasn't usually a problem. He could amuse himself fairly easily; from dismantling toasters to practising Russian to improving his undercover skill by avoiding certain nosey neighbours. Unfortunately, that last one was a lost cause due to a certain Mrs Larson, he doubted even Hetty could get past those beady little eyes. Also, on that note, he needed a new toaster. The last one didn't fit back together right despite there being no parts left over this time but it set individual slices on fire so technically it worked a little too well but he didn't need a fire hazard in here.

He couldn't do any of those things this morning though because he couldn't exactly get up. This was due to a certain Anna Kolchek bring snuggled into him. Which he was definitely not complaining about but Callen didn't want to wake her. She got grumpy and he kind of liked the feel of her against him. It meant he was bored though.

His hands fidgeted with some of her hair that was trailing on the mattress, it was really soft despite it being quite dishevelled. He couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the activities that caused that dishevelledness.

A part splayed out into three parts. That was how many parts you needed for a braid, wasn't it? Called had always wanted to try braiding hair, was that weird?

Could he?

Callen checked that Anna was definitely sleeping. He'd have to be careful; she could be a light sleeper. Her breaths were deep and even. Good.

Carefully pulling her hair from under her, Callen managed to gather most of her hair. After a few attempts because it literally slid out of his hands. He'd have to start off carefully because she'd feel it more at the top of her head. He didn't want to tug too much.

Slowly, with a few false starts, Callen started to braid. It wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, as long as he kept track of what braid last went over. He progressed nicely down her hair, the braid narrowing as he did so. He really made an effort to keep it neat. No point in doing a poor job.

In no time, he was beyond her shoulder blades. Which was a good thing because Anna was shifting slightly, about to wake up. Her head moved slightly just as he started working with really thin strands.

"Don't! I'm nearly finished!" he admonished her as he quickened his hands, he didn't want her ruining this.

Of course, that meant that he had to explain what exactly he was doing to her head but Anna seemed to accept it even if she was a bit dubious about his abilities.

"So, you are practicing on my hair?"

He couldn't help but smirk at her question. For most people that would be asked in an accusing or outraged tone but not Anna. She just sounded curious and maybe a bit impatient.

"Well, I can braid rope," he told her. "How much different can it be?"

"Very," Anna informed him. "I am not into the ship rope look."

"It would look good on you," he said teasingly.

It would, though Callen definitely hadn't seen anyone wearing that style - even in LA. Good thing it wasn't looking like a rope then.

A few seconds passed in silence before Anna piped up, "Are you nearly finished?"

Looked like her leg or something was cramping on her. He'd seen her leg flex from under her.

"Mm hmm," he replied absent-mindedly, wanting to focus on getting this right.

The last bit of the braid was so small and fiddly, he didn't want it unravelling.

There! Done! Success!

"Do you have a hair tie thing?" he asked, feeling a bit anxious as he pinched the end of it.

"Yes," she told him, bending her arm behind her so he could retrieve it from her wrist.

It was bright red. Typical. She always wore something red.

A few twists and it was done, he let the braid fall down her back. Wow, her hair was long.

"Ta da," he said in a deadpan voice, flicking the braid childishly over her shoulder.

He thought she would immediately look at it but she stretched all her limbs and he heard a few what must be satisfying cracks. She must have been stiff.

Finally, she picked herself up and went over to the mirror that Hetty had gifted him. (There was a story involving the North Koreans and the Italian mafia having a poker match with the mirror as forfeit but it still didn't clear up why Hetty had it).

Trying not to fidget as she inspected it in the mirror, Callen watched her take her reflection in. Sunlight glint ed off her hair. There were lots of colours in it.

He couldn't keep his eyes off her hair. He'd done that. It was kind of cool. Callen had been fascinated with braids ever since he first saw Kamran wear her hair in a load of them. They had been so tiny and intricate looking. He had complimented Michelle on them and she'd laughed and told him they were a very basic style. Still looked cool, though. There were so many different looking ones too, depending on the wearer. From the pair of old-fashioned schoolgirl braids to the more complicated updos of the stylish. They never seemed to go out of style.

It had probably been a bit stupid to try it on his partner's (lover's, girlfriend's?) hair without really knowing how to go about doing them. Not that that ever stopped him from trying something. He knew it involved wrapping three strands of hair around each other, what could go wrong?

Thankfully nothing and the end result was really pretty. The white-blonde hair of Anna's looked really sleek in the braid. Something he didn't really see because it was normally down in a satiny curtained or pulled back in a simple ponytail.

"I like it," she pronounced, turning around to smile at him.

A breath Callen didn't even know he had been holding was released. She liked it.

"You do?" he checked.

Anna nodded in response and ran her fingers down it.

"It's great," she reiterated and then smiled slyly at him. "You could go into business with those skills."

"Braiding hair? I don't think simple braids are a viable hairdressing career," he said wryly but feeling proud of himself.

There was something nice about people appreciating what you had done.

"If you knew others... waterfall, French, Dutch, fishtail, four strand. Plenty of options if you want to French, Dutch broaden your horizons."

He gave her a blank look. Those were nouns or nationalities. What did those have to do with braids?

"There's no way any of those are a thing," he said in an unconvincing tone, shaking his head doubtfully. "You're making fun."

Anna raised an eyebrow, "You haven't head of French braids?"

He shook his head.

"Should I?" he shot back.

"Kensi wears her hair in one when she's in the field a lot of times," she pointed out.

Another blank look from Callen. Anna sighed.

"It's the one that looks like it's attached to her head."

"Ohhh," he said as his face dawned in comprehension. "It has a name?"

This time she was the one shaking her head in disbelief.

"It's a good thing you're cute," she told him, stepping over to kiss him on the tip of his nose.

He tried to follow her lips with his eyes but it only made him go cross-eyed. Anna giggled at him and then her stomach growled.

Oh yeah, you were meant to feed your guests. Better get on that.

Callen directed her too the kitchen and listed off his breakfast fare, which really was minimal after he binned the bread. Yeugh. Mould.

Thankfully, Sam hadn't managed to find his most recent purchase of Lucky Charms so they could have that. He really should look into having bacon or something in here. At least Anna found the cereal problem funny.

They had their breakfast together and Callen was feeling very domestic as they split the washing up duties; him washing, her drying.

He watched the braid sway as she wiped the bowls and turned to his cupboards.

"You don't need to keep it in," he told her a bit self-consciously.

Anna just shrugged at him and gently touched the braid.

"I like it, it's really good." Anna replied with a smile.

Callen didn't know whether to believe her or not but Anna rarely said things just to be nice...

"Ok," he nodded a smiled at her.

It was shaping up to be a nice morning.