"I can't believe you're actually going in," Sam told him incredulously.

He had watched Callen put his shoes on, double check that everything was in his bag, push the remnants of yet another toaster out of the way (so when he came home that evening there would be space for whatever take-out he ordered) and take a final swig of his coffee. The coffee that had done absolutely nothing to perk him up or anything. It was probably a defective brand or something. Or maybe he accidentally bought decaf. He shuddered at the thought. No, that definitely wasn't decaf.

"What's so hard to believe about it? I am an Agent, after all. Which, funnily enough, means that in have to go into work."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know that, G. That normally sick Agents don't go into work. They stay home and get better."

"Which is a good idea for sick Agents. Of which I am not one of."

"G."

"I can't just not go in," Callen replied, grabbing his jacket and looking back at him. "You ready?"

"Of course, you can. You just tell Hetty that you're sick and you don't go to work. It's that easy."

"If I was actually sick."

"Which you are."

"I'm not."

"Just tell Hetty, you'll be fine."

"I'm not telling Hetty that I'm sick because I'm not sick."

Of course, this was rather pointless because it was followed immediately by a rather impressive set of sneezes. Five, to be exact. Loud ones too. Callen discovered just how sensitive his ears were today. Which was very sensitive became those sneezes had hurt them. He wanted to rub his ears but obviously he couldn't because that would just be giving Sam more ammo. Which that man definitely didn't need.

Not that it mattered anyway because Callen wasn't going to listen to him and just do what he wanted. But the less that Sam fussed the better. He still found it hilarious that the ex-SEAL was the mother hen of the group. So, he did the logical thing (in his mind, anyway) and didn't mention be sensitive ears. They could only be useful on the job, wouldn't they?

"You are sick."

"Look, are we getting in the car or not?" Callen asked, avoiding what Sam just said.

"Get in," Sam grumbled, looking thoroughly exasperated with him.

Callen gave him a smile, "Don't mind if I do."

He then swallowed heavily to stop himself from coughing because he was pretty sure that Sam would shove him out of the car if he did.

"I'll be the one to tell Hetty," Sam threatened as he started driving.

"No, you won't."

Callen, despite feeling crappy, felt confident about that. His confidence in that little fact was actually physically visible. Sam wouldn't actually tell Hetty anything that Callen didn't want him to. Didn't stop him from threatening it though. It never did.

"No throwing up in my car or I'm dumping you in the ocean," he threatened instead.

"I'm not sick!"

[xxxxxx]

He knew that Sam's bluff about Hetty was just that, a bluff. He wasn't going to tell her. It didn't stop him giving him pointed looks, mind you. Callen just ignored them.

Though, Sam didn't have to tell Hetty anything for her to know something. She was like that. But she wasn't going to know about this because he was fine and there was nothing for her to know. Nothing. More sneezes escaped him making Sam look at him in askance. Maybe He should keep his distance from her today anyway. It wouldn't hurt.

That was surprisingly easy to do considering Hetty seemed to be tied up in other things. Literally, a phone cord was wrapped around her at one point as she flipped between phones. Something was going wrong somewhere and she wasn't happy about it.

"You need to go home," Sam hissed as he walked past them. "You look like death."

"You flatter me."

Sam did not look amused.

"I'm fine."

"You aren't. Go home."

"No."

That got him a glare. He was not going home. Not before he had to. Which meant when the work day was over. Like normal. No sooner. Unless he got injured or something but he really didn't want that to happen either because injuries usually meant hospitals and he hated hospitals. More than having a cold, actually.

"Anyway, I can't exactly not be in the office this week, you know that," Callen reminded him, sniffling. "What with bigwigs from the DoD coming in."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that they'll be fine with you not being there because you're sick."

"It will look like I'm avoiding them."

"We all want to avoid them."

Callen almost snorted at that. Almost. That was true, not of them exactly gelled with the politics of this job. Oh, they could do it, if necessary, but none of them enjoyed it.

"But that doesn't mean we actually do it."

"Which you wouldn't be."

"I'm pretty sure that me going home would be avoiding them."

"It's not avoiding them of you go home sick. That's called taking a sick day, G."

"Which I don't need to take."

"You do."

"I don't."

His fever said otherwise but Sam didn't need to know about that. Sam didn't need to know about a lot of things today. And he only figured out he had a fever now because he had that weird sticky feeling he always got when he had a fever. The being randomly hot and then cold was a big giveaway as well. Again, Sam did not need to know this.

"I'm team lead. I'm not leaving you lot to the wolves," he said instead, trying to divert his partner's attention.

"You do realise that were fully capable of looking after ourselves."

Callen just raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I am, at least." Sam amended. "But I can corral Kensi and Deeks. Also, you're the one who can't look after himself."

"I can look after myself perfectly fine."

"Really? You're really going to use that line. Today?"

Callen raised an eyebrow. "And why not? I'm fine, after all."

The strangled noise that Sam made at that comment was oddly satisfying to hear.