Hetty held her hand out expectantly. Disgruntled, Sam handed over the blood-soaked paper towel he had been pressing to his face and took the fresh one off her. Pinched between two fingers, Hetty disposed of it in a very handy bin. There were already similarly stained paper towels forming a layer inside it. Far too thick a layer. She shook her head. She was going to have to dispose of the contents of this bin as soon as possible. Blood was a biohazard after all. There were procedures to follow. That, and she didn't like any sources of her Agents' DNA just lying about. That was also a hazard.
Sam winced as he scrunched up his nose. He was going to have quite a spectacular bruise across his face. Too bad it wasn't from anything heroic. No, just general boyish idiocy. As usual.
He made a whimpering noise when she dabbed at a spot he missed. Why did facial injuries have to bleed so much?
She eyed the blood staining the front of his top disapprovingly and made a tutting noise. That was definitely going to leave a mark. Sam flashed her a guilty look, knowing what she was thinking.
"So," she finally said. "Would someone like to explain how Mr Hanna ended up with a bloody nose?"
The two partners, partners in crime more like, looked at each other, had a silent conversation and then determinedly looked at anywhere but her.
"Gentlemen."
It was a warning. A soft one but a warning all the same. And they knew it. Now it was just a matter of who broke first.
It was Callen. It was always Callen as he knew exactly where the line was and the consequences of crossing it.
"We might have hit each other."
Hetty still looked unimpressed.
"I can see that, Mr Callen. That is the whole purpose of sparring with a partner. What that doesn't explain why Mr Hanna is currently bleeding."
"I think it's stopped now," Sam pointed out hopefully, making as if to remove the tissue from his face which Hetty stopped.
Hetty was doubtful. There had been no sign of any slow of the flow when she gave him that new tissue.
"My hand slipped," Callen offered by way of explanation.
"G wasn't focusing."
"You were the one supposed to be hitting the focus mitts," Callen retorted. "At least I have good aim."
Sam just glared at him and Hetty sighed. She seemed to do an awful lot of that in this particular part of the building. Especially when Callen and Sam were having some sort of strange face-off over something insignificant.
"Who punches the person they're helping train?" Sam demanded, folding his arms and wincing as his nose moves too much.
"Anyone if they get decked in the shoulder!"
"All you had to do was hold the mitts steady. It's not that hard!"
"Which is what I was doing."
"Nuh uh," Sam shook his head. "You were in a daydream and let them drift."
"All I'm hearing is that you weren't paying attention to where they were situated," Callen argued. "The whole point of this exercise is for you to hit the mitts."
"And I was."
"Until you hit me!"
Hetty had to cover up a laugh at Callen's indignant tone. It was just so amusing to see him get so worked up over something so trivial. Actually, it was also heart-warming that he could bicker like this with someone. It took a great deal of trust on his part and she couldn't help but be somewhat proud of him even if she was a bit peeved with his behaviour. And Mr Hanna's.
"I didn't mean to hit you," Sam told him in exasperation. "And just because I hit you doesn't mean you have to hit me back! You had the mitts! You weren't supposed to do any hitting!"
"I just perceived you as a threat because..." Callen trailed off.
"You were in a daydream and not focusing!" Sam crowed triumphantly.
"I take any shots to my face as a threat!"
"It was your shoulder, not your face."
"Close enough!"
"How is your shoulder close to your face?"
"Come on, Hetty," Callen pointedly ignored his partner and turned to her. "I'm in the right here."
That got Sam all riled up again. "No way!" he protested. "I'm very obviously in the right. I got punched!"
"It's your own fault."
"No, it's yours!"
"I think I've made it quite clear..."
Hetty took this opportunity to pull Sam's hand away from his face and inspect his injury. Blood was still oozing from it. Thankfully, no longer flowing. Nonetheless, she tutted.
"Did you have to aim for his face, Mr Callen?"
He didn't know how to answer her as his mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out. Sam smirked triumphantly at him. Oh, she couldn't let either of them believe they had the upper hand.
"And, you, Mr Hanna, why on earth didn't you dodge?"
"It was instinct!"
"I wasn't expecting to be punched by my partner!"
They both answered at the same time, looking remarkably put out. Completely ridiculous looks for grown men.
"It's the best way to distract someone," Callen continued, obviously hoping to get her own his side.
"Yeah, when we're in the field," Sam stressed. "Not in the Gym!"
Sighing and shaking her head at the two of them, Hetty knew that just one thing had to be done.
"What are you doing, Hetty?" Sam asked in alarm as she walked away from them.
She got to her targets and bent down to retrieve them.
"Hey, we're not done with those!" Sam protested as he realised, she had picked up the mitts.
"I'm afraid you are, gentlemen," she said in an even tone, tucking them under her arm and walking away.
"I haven't had my turn yet," Callen informed her.
"And you're not going to," she said in a slightly scolding matter. "As these," she waved her free hand at them, "are being confiscated."