Nell woke up with a start, momentarily disoriented. The room was dark and still, unfamiliar in a way that made her skin prickle. It took her a second to remember—she wasn't in her apartment. She was at Callen's place.
She sighed, shifting under the covers. She'd been exhausted when she first went to bed, but now that she was awake, the quiet felt too quiet. No humming fridge, no faint city noise filtering through her windows. Just silence.
And then—movement.
A chair creaking. Soft footsteps. The rustle of paper.
Curious, she slipped out of bed, padding toward the slightly open door. Peeking into the living room, she found Callen exactly where she should have expected him to be—awake, sitting on the couch, a book in one hand and a glass of something in the other. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the pages with quiet focus.
Sam and Kensi hadn't been messing with her after all.
She smirked to herself, recalling their warning before she left work: He doesn't sleep like a normal person. He'll be up at weird hours. Just roll with it.
They hadn't exaggerated.
She must have moved too much because Callen, without even looking up from his book, said, "You planning on sneaking up on me, or are you just that bad at it?"
Nell huffed, stepping fully into the room. "You're kind of impossible, you know that?"
He finally glanced up, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I've been told."
She crossed her arms. "You could have just said, 'Hey, Nell, couldn't sleep either?'"
Callen smirked, setting the book down. "Could have. Didn't."
Rolling her eyes, she wandered closer, tilting her head to read the book's cover. The Spy Who Came in from the Cold.
Huh," she mused. "Sam and Kensi warned me about your weird sleep schedule, but they didn't say anything about your reading habits."
"Yeah?" Callen asked, leaning back slightly.
"Yeah," Nell said, crossing her arms. "I should've guessed you'd be into old-school espionage novels."
Callen smirked. "What, you thought I spent my sleepless nights bingeing TV dramas?"
"Honestly? I wasn't sure what to expect," Nell admitted. "But I do think Sam and Kensi missed an opportunity. They could've prepared me for all of your quirks."
Callen chuckled, shaking his head. "They probably thought it'd be funnier to let you figure it out yourself."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Nell muttered, shaking her head.
Callen took a sip from his glass, watching her with quiet curiosity. "So, what about you? Why are you up?"
Nell shrugged. "New place. Hard to settle. And too quiet."
Callen raised a brow. "Too quiet?"
"Yeah, no city noise, no creaky pipes… It's weird," she admitted. "Makes it hard to sleep."
He smirked. "Didn't think my house would be the thing to throw you off."
"I've slept in some questionable places," Nell said, perching on the arm of the couch. "This isn't bad, just different."
Callen hummed in amusement, then nodded toward her. "You want something to help you sleep?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You offering me whiskey?"
He shrugged. "I was thinking tea, but whiskey's an option."
She chuckled. "I'll pass."
She glanced at his book. "Mind if I sit for a bit? At least until I get sleepy again."
"Go for it," Callen said easily.
She settled onto the couch beside him, tucking her legs up. They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that felt oddly natural despite the late hour.
For all of Callen's quirks, Nell had to admit—Sam and Kensi had been right. And honestly? She didn't mind.