A few weeks had passed since Callen had accidentally pulled Nell into his undercover scheme. Life at NCIS had settled back into its usual rhythm—or as close to normal as things ever got. But tonight, Callen found himself back in Hetty's office, the scent of her ever-present tea filling the air as she watched him over the rim of her cup.

"She certainly made an impression," Hetty mused, setting the delicate china down with a soft clink.

Callen leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, gaze flicking toward the bullpen where Nell sat, absorbed in her work. "Yeah," he admitted. "Our guy last time took notice of her. She was smart, quick on her feet. Didn't hesitate."

Hetty arched a knowing brow. "And you trust her to do it again?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here," Callen said without missing a beat.

Hetty's lips curled into something suspiciously close to amusement. "How refreshingly direct."

They both glanced through the glass again. Nell was lost in concentration, fingers flying over her keyboard, oblivious to the conversation happening about her.

Callen turned back. "She's got the skills, the instincts. And—most importantly—our new target already recognises Claire."

Hetty hummed, thoughtful. "It's a gamble."

Callen smirked. "That's kind of our thing, isn't it?"

Hetty's eyes twinkled. "Then it sounds like you'd better go make your case."

Callen pushed off the bookshelf, turning toward the door. He hesitated for half a second. "This isn't an official recruitment, right? She gets to decide."

Hetty took a sip of tea, her expression unreadable. "Of course."

That was good enough for him.

Callen approached Nell's desk with the kind of casual confidence that usually got him into trouble. Hands in his pockets, an easy smirk playing on his lips.

She didn't notice him at first, still deep in her work.

"You busy?"

Nell glanced up, eyes sharp with focus. "Unless you need something urgent, Callen, I'd like to finish this before Kensi hunts me down."

He smirked. "I've got a proposition for you."

That got her attention. She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. "If this involves me hacking into something morally questionable, I'll need a really good reason."

"No hacking." He paused. "Yet."

Nell arched a brow. "That 'yet' is doing a lot of work."

Callen chuckled. "It's about Dexter Hughes."

She tilted her head slightly. "You need me to step in again?"

He nodded, lowering his voice just enough to make her lean in. "My previous target, Vargas, wasn't the only person in that bar. Someone else was watching. And they already met Claire."

Nell exhaled slowly, rolling her pen between her fingers. "And let me guess—you need her to make an encore performance."

Callen shrugged. "It's your call. But last time, you made it look easy."

Nell studied him, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head—assessing, analyzing, weighing her options. Then her gaze flicked toward Hetty's office, and the pieces fell into place.

Finally, she tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "If I say yes, do I at least get hazard pay?"

Callen smirked back. "I'll buy you the good coffee again."

Nell pretended to think it over. "That is tempting."

"Final offer." He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something just above a whisper. "With extra whipped cream."

She rolled her eyes but grabbed her tablet and stood. "You drive a hard bargain, Callen."

He grinned. "That's kind of my thing."

As they walked toward the briefing room, Hetty watched from her office, shaking her head with a small, knowing smile.

This was going to be very interesting.