The NCIS team had wrapped up a long day of operations, and the tension from the mission had loosened its grip on their shoulders as they gathered at a local bar. The night was cool, but the beer garden offered a relaxed atmosphere, and it was a welcome change from the hectic pace they were all used to.
Sam, Kensi, Deeks, Eric, Callen, and Nell were all gathered around a high-top table in the beer garden, enjoying each other's company. The chatter and laughter flowed easily as they swapped war stories and lighthearted banter.
Sam leaned back in his chair, watching the others as they conversed. His eyes lingered on Callen and Nell for a moment, and he couldn't help but notice something subtle but undeniable.
Nell, sitting next to Callen, was visibly trying to keep her composure in the cool evening air. She crossed her arms, rubbing her arms as if to keep warm. Sam watched as Callen, who had been sitting back with his own beer, seemed to notice the chill in the air at the same time.
Without a word, he reached for his jacket draped across the back of his chair, and in one smooth motion, he gently leaned over, placing the jacket over Nell's shoulders. The way he did it was instinctual, as if he'd done it a hundred times before, but it was the care with which he draped it over her that caught Sam's attention.
He nearly groaned aloud. It was so damn obvious now. Sam had been observing Callen and Nell for weeks, picking up on the little things—the subtle glances, the quiet exchanges. But this? This was something different. There was no denying it now.
Nell looked up at Callen, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she adjusted the jacket. "Thanks," she said quietly, her voice carrying a touch of gratitude.
Callen smiled back, a small but genuine smile that only deepened the mystery for Sam. There was something between them, and Sam was pretty damn sure that everyone around the table could see it too.
Sam's eyes narrowed slightly as he set his beer down and stood up. He wasn't one to beat around the bush, and he was more than curious about what the hell was going on between his partner and their tech guru. Callen was his best friend, and Sam had always prided himself on knowing when something was up with him. But this? This was new. And it was starting to get to him.
He casually made his way to the bar, where Callen was waiting. The bar was relatively quiet, the hum of the other patrons a distant background noise to the conversation Sam was about to have.
As Callen stood waiting for the bartender to bring the next set of drinks, Sam stood next to him, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. He grabbed the drink menu, flipping through it idly before leaning over and speaking in a low tone.
"So… what's up with you and Nell?" Sam asked, all but outright calling it.
Callen glanced at him, his face unreadable. For a moment, he didn't answer. He just kept his focus on the bartender, who was busy filling orders.
Sam wasn't letting it go that easily, though. He knew Callen well enough to read the subtle shift in his posture, the way his body tensed ever so slightly. Callen was being evasive, and Sam was having none of it.
"You know I'm not blind right?," Sam continued, leaning in just a bit, his voice dropping lower.
Callen's gaze flicked to Sam briefly before he let out a small, almost nonchalant chuckle. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something else—something Sam couldn't quite place.
Sam raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Really? That's how you're going to play this." He chuckled.
Callen took a deep breath, his focus still on the bartender who had just finished grabbing the drinks Callen had requested. Callen took the bottles and placed them on the counter beside him, finally turning his attention back to Sam.
"I told you, nothing is going on," Callen said, his voice dropping slightly, but still avoiding the direct answer Sam was hoping for.
Sam wasn't buying it. "You're a terrible liar, G," Sam said with a smirk, clapping his friend on the back. "Look, man, if you're not ready to talk about it, that's fine. But I can tell. You and Nell? There's something there. You might not want to admit it yet, but you don't have to hide it from me."
Callen took a sip from his own drink, clearly trying to avoid giving anything away. He set his bottle down with deliberate slowness, his eyes shifting to the side as if searching for the right words.
After a long pause, Callen finally looked up at Sam, his expression thoughtful but still guarded. "There's nothing to talk about," he replied quietly, his gaze shifting away again. The words were familiar—vague, evasive, and designed to shut down any further questioning.
Sam wasn't satisfied, but he let it go, knowing there wasn't much more he could do at the moment.
"You'll have to tell me someday," Sam said as he slapped Callen on the shoulder and turned to head back to the table.
As Sam walked away, he glanced back over his shoulder to where Callen was standing. The look on Callen's face was unreadable, but Sam knew one thing for sure: something was going on with him and Nell, and whether Callen admitted it now or not, it wasn't going to stay a secret for long.