The smell of fresh espresso clung to the morning air, curling around the clatter of mugs and the soft chatter of early risers. A line had formed at the counter of the small coffee shop nestled just a few blocks from the office, the kind of place that knew its regulars by name and their orders by heart.

Nell stood third in line, half-zipped into her coat, her eyes fixed on her phone. Her brow furrowed in quiet concentration as she thumbed through her inbox, firing off quick responses to pre-dawn emails. The hum of the shop faded beneath the noise of incoming updates and flagged reports. She didn't notice the man who stepped in behind her, silent and smiling.

Callen leaned in, just close enough for his breath to brush her ear.

"You know you're not technically on the clock yet, right?"

Nell jolted, nearly dropping her phone. She whirled around, eyes wide with startled recognition.

"Callen! Seriously?"

He grinned, unrepentant. "What can I say? You make it too easy."

She placed a hand over her chest, exhaling a laugh as her pulse settled. "I was in the middle of a briefing summary. You can't just sneak up on people like that."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her phone. "Briefing summaries belong at HQ. Not in line for caffeine. This is sacred time."

"Says the guy who literally just snuck up behind me like a spy."

"Former spy," he corrected. "Now I just haunt coffee shops, waiting to ambush workaholics before 7 a.m."

She gave him a dry look, but her smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You know, some of us actually prep before stepping into the office."

"And some of us believe in the power of showing up late with confidence."

She snorted softly and turned back toward the counter, still scrolling, though a bit less frantically now.

Callen stepped up beside her, voice casual. "So... what's it gonna be? Triple espresso? Chai with an unpronounceable milk substitute?"

Nell didn't look up. "Flat white. Almond milk. Extra shot."

He smirked. "Called it."

"I'm predictable now?"

"Comforting," he said. "Like a mission that doesn't end in a foot chase."

She shot him a sideways glance. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I'm saying it like it's... nice."

As they reached the front of the line, Nell stepped forward to order, but Callen casually slipped in front of her.

"Two," he said to the barista. "Flat white with almond milk, extra shot—and a black coffee for me."

Before Nell could protest, he'd already handed over his card.

"Callen—"

He turned to her with that infuriatingly calm smirk. "Don't make a scene. You can cover the next tactical takedown instead."

She narrowed her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. "This doesn't mean I owe you."

"Too late. I'm already adding it to your tab."

Nell shook her head, lips twitching into a reluctant smile as they moved to the side to wait for their drinks. The noise of the shop swelled around them, but in the space between their words, everything else seemed to fade.

It wasn't a mission. It wasn't work.

Just coffee.

And something a little more than routine.