It was Callen's turn to do the lunch run.

The bullpen had reached that late-morning lull where energy dipped and everyone started glancing at the clock—or their stomachs. When the inevitable "So, who's going?" came up, it was Callen who got the collective stare.

With a sigh that was mostly for show, he pushed back his chair and grabbed the notepad from his desk—the one that had become his unofficial lunch order ledger.

"Alright. Let's hear it."

"Burgers," Deeks said without missing a beat, his legs kicked up on his desk like he'd been waiting all day for the moment.

"Grease and guilt," Kensi echoed. "Extra cheese."

"Plain. No sauce," Sam said without glancing up.

Callen nodded as he scribbled each order down with practiced ease, then looked over to the back corner where Nell sat, tucked behind a fortress of screens, keyboards, and cluttered papers. She had her head bent toward whatever report she was cross-checking.

"Nell?"

She glanced up, surprised to find him watching her. She gave a small smile, brushing her fringe from her eyes.

"I'm good. I'll pass."

"You sure?"

"I can't do any more junk food this week," she said, laughing a little under her breath. "I need something green. With vegetables. You know, real food. I'll duck out later."

Callen studied her for a half-second longer than necessary, then gave a small nod and turned toward the door, the notepad still in hand.

But he didn't head straight to the burger place.

xxxxx

When Callen came back, the scent of burgers hit the bullpen like a homing signal, and suddenly everyone had come alive. He dropped the bags down with casual ease, calling out each name like a practiced server.

"Sam—plain, no sauce. You're a mystery."

"Deeks—two patties, three regrets."

"Kensi. Extra cheese, and yes, I remembered the fries."

He handed out everything, then turned without saying anything and crossed to the back of the bullpen. Nell was still at her desk, headphones in now, lips moving as she reviewed something on screen. She didn't notice him at first—until he set a brown paper bag quietly on her desk.

She blinked, tugging her headphones down. "What's this?"

Callen leaned against the desk, the corners of his mouth tugging into an easy smile.

"Don't let Deeks know I take special requests," he said. "Or the lunch run is going to turn into a full time gig."

Before she could answer, he pushed off the desk and walked away, unbothered, like it was nothing.

Nell looked down, puzzled, and carefully opened the bag. Inside was a salad box—bright greens, roasted sweet potato, quinoa, cucumber, even grilled chicken, with a little container of vinaigrette nestled beside it.

It was the exact kind of thing she'd meant to find herself later. And definitely not something you could get at the burger place.

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she glanced up at Callen as he returned to his desk, already unwrapping his burger like it had all been part of the usual routine.

But it wasn't.

He would've had to go somewhere else—somewhere entirely different just for this. A second stop. A longer drive. Maybe he'd gone there first. Maybe he'd doubled back. But the point was, he hadn't said anything. He hadn't made it a thing. He'd just done it.

And he'd done it for her.

Nell smiled softly, as she picked up the little wooden fork. The salad tasted even better than she expected—but not because of the vinaigrette or the fresh veggies. It was the thought behind it. The quiet, understated way he'd gone out of his way—literally—for her.

And the fact that he'd never even asked for thanks.

She glanced at him across the bullpen, already halfway through his burger paying no attention to her like what he'd done was nothing.

But it wasn't nothing.

It meant he'd listened. That he'd thought of her. And maybe—just maybe—it meant something.

She took another bite, her smile lingering. Maybe it was just lunch.

Or maybe it wasn't.