By the time they got back to Callen's place, the sky had darkened, and the cool evening air carried the scent of the ocean. Callen unlocked the door, stepping aside to let Nell in, watching as she set her shopping bag on the counter with an easy familiarity.
He hadn't expected her to adapt so quickly to his space. Most people—hell, even some of his closest friends—felt out of place in his sparsely furnished home. But Nell? She didn't seem bothered by it at all.
"So, risotto?" he asked, shrugging off his jacket.
Nell nodded, already pulling ingredients out of the bag. "Yep. Mushroom and parmesan. It's one of my favorites."
Callen leaned on the counter, arms crossed. "You sure you know what you're doing?"
She shot him an unimpressed look. "Yes, Callen, I know how to cook. Unlike some people."
He smirked, pushing off the counter. "Alright, I'm helping."
Nell arched a brow. "Helping or getting in my way?"
"Guess we'll find out," he said, rolling up his sleeves.
To his surprise, they fell into an easy rhythm. She took control of the stove, moving around his kitchen as if she'd been there a hundred times before—grabbing a pan, setting up the chopping board, heating the broth. He found himself enjoying watching her, the way she hummed under her breath as she stirred the rice, her movements efficient and confident.
She barely even had to ask where things were. That was the real kicker.
"You sure you haven't secretly been here before?" he asked, handing her the wooden spoon when she reached for it.
She chuckled. "I just have a good sense of kitchens. Besides, yours isn't exactly cluttered with excess utensils."
He huffed a laugh. "Fair point."
She gestured toward the cheese. "Grate that for me?"
He did as asked, passing her the parmesan once he was done. She stirred it in, and soon enough, the rich aroma of butter, mushrooms, and cheese filled the air. Callen had to admit—this was far better than anything he would've managed on his own.
When it was ready, they set their plates at the small dining table. Callen wasn't used to eating meals at the table with company, but with Nell, it felt… nice.
Comfortable.
As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly—work, a few jokes about Deeks' antics, an argument about whether or not he should invest in a proper coffee maker. Callen found himself genuinely enjoying the moment, realizing just how much he liked having Nell around.
Not just at work. Not just in the field.
But here.
In his space.
At his table.
With him.
It was a strange thought, one he wasn't quite sure how to process. But for now, he pushed it aside and simply enjoyed the evening.