It had been another long week—case closed, bad guys behind bars, and the team winding down the way they usually did: with a few rounds at their favorite bar.
Sam nursed his second beer, posted up at their usual booth, watching the group chat and laugh like they didn't carry the weight of the world Monday through Friday.
But it wasn't the case chatter that had his attention tonight.
It was them.
All week, Sam had noticed something different between Callen and Nell. A shift. Small things at first—quieter conversations that seemed to stretch a little longer than necessary, the way their eyes lingered when they thought no one was watching, a subtle closeness in how they moved around each other.
And here, tonight, with the music low and the beer cold, it was even more obvious.
They weren't wrapped around each other or sneaking off to a dark corner, but it was there—in the glances, the proximity, the almost magnetic pull between them. The kind of gravity you didn't fight unless you were a damn fool.
Sam watched Callen lean in to say something low to Nell, and she laughed, soft and easy. Her hand brushed his knee as she reached for her drink. Nothing overt. But the air between them? It was different.
Eventually, the night started to wind down. Kensi and Deeks said their goodbyes, Eric followed soon after, and Sam stood to stretch, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.
He turned to Callen. "You good? Need a ride?"
Callen shook his head, a small smile playing on his face as he gave Sam's shoulder a casual pat. "Nah. I'm gonna walk Nell home."
Sam just nodded, even as something settled in his chest.
"Alright," he said, throwing a few bills on the table for the tab. "See you Monday."
He lingered only a minute longer to square up the check, then headed outside.
The street was quieter than usual, the late hour pushing the usual crowd back toward home. And as he stepped onto the sidewalk, Sam caught sight of them just down the block.
Callen and Nell.
Walking side by side, her coat long forgotten in favor of his jacket wrapped around her shoulders.
But it wasn't the jacket that caught Sam's attention. It was their hands—linked casually between them like it had been that way forever.
No hesitation. No masks.
It was subtle, simple, but real.
And that was when Sam knew. Whatever it was between them, whatever lines had once existed, had been crossed.
For good.
He watched them for a beat longer before turning away with a quiet smile.
About damn time.