Rating/Warnings: R (for cursing, violence, and adult themes – the content is about on par with what would be in an episode except for the cursing). General show spoilers through season 2, but departs from the canon timeline before the season 2 finale.

Betas: vegarin and fringedweller - you guys are rockstars 3

Summary: Callen helps Nell out of a dangerous situation which leads to the support staff being trained to protect themselves. Along the way, Nell and Callen grow close and she helps him learn to be himself.

Author's notes: I've never written fic for NCIS: LA so, I figured, why not do a big bang for it as my first! The fandom is tiny, so if you are a fan and you read this, I do hope you like it. The pairing is definitely non-traditional. I'm not sure why I thought of it…I think I just thought it'd be interesting if Nell and Callen interacted more and it just exploded from there. All specifics about Nell Jones, Venezuela, and all things military are made up. Also, I apologize for the title. I'm bad at thinking up good ones.

Written for the LJ het-bigbang 2011 challenge.

She really should know better.

Nell might be the new girl, but she's also an intelligence analyst. She observes things...analyzes them. Intelligently.

She really, really should know better.

True, she came on after Dom's unfortunate departure, but she'd read the report. Then there was the most recent incident with Deeks. Not to mention Eric's first foray into field work and almost ending up, well, frelted. Nell should be fully aware of potential consequences when caught off guard. Yet somehow she doesn't know better than to leave work well after dark and on foot, no less?

Since their group is special operations, their accommodations are nice but by no means in the best part of town or a very noticeable part of town. The building is "condemned," after all.

And, of course, her car chose that morning to have its alternator die so it was in the shop and she had to take public transportation. The closest bus stop is 3 blocks away, but she isn't going to use the same stop she arrived on.

"Damned research," Nell mutters. Hetty had given her some subjects to look into and, not surprisingly, she'd gotten buried in it and lost track of the time.

She has her day bag clutched close to her, in front, and she's walking quickly but (she hopes) confidently. The bus stop she's aiming for is just shy of a mile away and the last bus will be there in about 20 minutes.

"Should have called a cab," she chastises herself.

Nell almost doesn't hear the footsteps behind her, but when she does, it takes all her willpower not to speed up. That would definitely result in a chase, one she'd probably lose. She's small and lithe, but panic has a funny way of being self-defeating.

The second set of footsteps, though, that's a different matter entirely.

Nell keeps her breathing even, strains her hearing to determine how close her followers are. There's no way she's going to turn around. She looks ahead and curses mentally. There's a whole block in darkness, the streetlamp having blown out or been broken. She tries to think fast, but her options are running out. Her mental map of the area is full of dead ends or turns to even less populated areas. Readjusting the strap on her bag, Nell steadies her breathing. So far, the people behind her are keeping about the same distance as before. Maybe they're just out for a walk...

Nell hears the unmistakable sound of metal sliding on metal. Probably a knife.

Shit.

As her feet hit the edge of the darkened block, Nell takes a deep breath and makes a run for it.

She hears a muffled curse behind her and then her followers are running, too.

Of course, the fates seemed to be in a bad mood that day. The path she is on is uneven, so Nell doesn't feel like her feet are finding enough purchase to really get up to speed. And then there's the loose piece of pavement that comes out of nowhere that trips her up, causing her to lose her momentum.

She doesn't fall, but it's enough to let her assailants catch up to her. One of them grabs her left wrist. Nell's self-defense training kicks in and she's able to twist out of the grasp. But then they grab her on both upper arms and lift her feet right off the ground. Nell fights the urge to pull away mindlessly. Most likely she'd end up hurting herself, but mainly she doesn't want to waste precious time and energy on such futile movements.

But there's that panic thing again.

Nell doesn't do "out of control." She knows she has control issues and in the back of her mind she's filing away this incident as yet another reason why. Not being in control gets you in trouble. And she's in trouble.

"Hey, girlie," one of the men hisses at her. "You play nice and we won't hurt you."

"Too much," the other one growls.

Nell freezes. Somehow, hearing their voices makes the stark reality of her situation that much more real.

"That's better," the first one says.

And then she reacts. Nell strikes out with a foot, catching one man in the gut. She starts to fall when the man does and she kicks again, landing a blow to the other man's knee, but he doesn't let go, so when he falls over she goes with him. Nell can feel the shock of hitting the pavement all the way up her body when her knee hits the ground, hard.

"Why you little-"

She doesn't hear the rest of it as the first man backhands her so hard across the face she falls backwards a good five feet.

"This is it," Nell thinks to herself as she struggles to regain her senses. "These men are going to assault me and then who knows what."

But the inevitable doesn't come. She's vaguely aware of a scuffle, but her mind processes it as the two men regrouping.

Slowly, Nell pushes herself up to a sitting position. Her vision is still swimming a little and her ears ring from when one of the men hit her. She can barely make out a third figure, which is difficult enough in the dim lighting but even more so with the pain. It seems like the newcomer is beating the crap out of the other two. Part of her mind cheers, the other fervently hopes this stranger is a Good Samaritan and not a vicious rival.

It's over almost as quickly as it had started and her two attackers lie in groaning heaps on the ground. The third man straightens up and slowly approaches her. She still can't make him out in the virtually non-existent lighting.

"Nell?"

Her breath comes out in a rush-she didn't realize she'd been holding it in.

A noise escapes her lips, it sounds oddly like a whimper. She means to respond with a question of her own: "Callen?" But it ends up coming out something like: "Hrhghhrhg?"

He offers her his hand and gently pulls her up, moving her into a more lighted area. Nell is immensely happy to see him, but the expression on his face makes her cringe a little. Callen keeps his emotions buried deep, but for an instant Nell's pretty sure she sees rage. She really hopes it isn't directed at her for being so dumb.

She blinks and then the normal Callen mask is in place.

Callen touches her face gently with a finger, directing her to move her head so he can see her and assess the damage.

Nell tastes blood, so she figures her lip is split. The whole left side of her face stings, too, from where one of the men struck her. Her right side aches from when she fell.

"Are you okay?" he asks, eyes flitting over her face, visually assessing the rest of her.

"I...think so," she manages. Definitely a busted lip. "Why...how...how did you find me?"

"I went back to the office just after you left," he says, still looking her over. "I always check who the last person to leave was and noticed you'd armed the door just a couple minutes before I got there."

"Okay," Nell responds, still dazed.

Callen gently turns her back in the direction she'd come, avoiding the men still lying on the ground.

"We're not far. It'll be easier to look at your injuries at the office," he explains.

"Uh huh." Nell's pretty much on auto-pilot at this point, wondering if she might be in shock.

"Anyway, I remembered Eric saying your car was in the shop so I figured I'd see how far you'd gotten and offer you a ride since it was so late."

"Oh."

Feeling starts to come back to her face and it hurts. And so does her right ankle. Nell starts to limp.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just banged up a bit."

Nell tries to scrunch up her face but it hurts too much. Did she just slur?

Callen makes a noise as if he doesn't believe her.

"I saw you got in a couple pretty good kicks, but you got clocked hard."

She doesn't even bother to make a sound. The vibration of her feet hitting the ground rattles her teeth. Nell wonders idly if maybe some are loose.

Callen puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her and she does. She looks up at him, but doesn't have the strength to ask him what's going on.

Nell doesn't-can't-protest when Callen effortlessly picks her up in his arms, holding her close.

They don't speak as Callen makes his way back to the compound, which suits Nell fine. She couldn't have had a conversation even if she wanted to, so she focuses on blocking the pain with varying degrees of success.

She's given up holding her head straight and is practically snuggled against Callen, his chin just at the top of her head, when he arrives at the office. He sets her on her feet to key the door open, but picks her up again and carries her to the lounge couch. He catches her eye and she acknowledges she's okay for the moment with a slight nod of the head, which, miraculously, doesn't cause her any pain.

Nell watches, almost detached from herself, as Callen walks away, presumably to the first aid kit. She focuses on not moving.

As the minutes tick by, Nell starts to relax. Callen returns, first aid kit in one hand, a mug of tea in the other. He pulls the coffee table closer to her and sits on it, facing her. Their knees are almost touching and Nell thinks she can feel the heat from his body.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, opening the first aid kit.

"Better," she replies. "It doesn't hurt to breathe."

Callen smiles and she thinks, not for the first time, that he's quite attractive.

He scoots forward even further and now his knees are not only touching hers but caging them. Callen reaches towards her and grasps her chin lightly and tilts her head slightly. He's looking right into her eyes and Nell isn't sure what he's looking for but she kind of hopes he never finds it so she can keep swimming in the depths of his blue eyes.

"Well, I don't think you have a concussion," he muses, finally looking away.

Nell isn't so sure, given the way her thoughts are going. This isn't how she normally acts, but then this isn't really a normal kind of night.

"But be sure to tell me if you feel dizzy or nauseous," he continues while he digs through the first aid kit.

"Okay."

"This, however, is probably going to sting," Callen announces, producing a cotton swab and antiseptic. "Do you want to do this or I?"

"Um, I don't-ow." Clearly, it still hurts to move her mouth.

"Right," Callen responds, then moves to sit beside her on the couch.

And then he's right there. Right next to her. His leg is right up against hers and he has a hand on the back of her neck, holding her head still.

Nell does feel a little lightheaded, but she's pretty sure it doesn't have anything to do with getting hit on the head.

She flinches when the antiseptic hits her split lip, but his hand on her head makes it impossible to move far.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I'll try to be quick."

As Callen works, Nell observes and analyzes. He is intent on what he's doing, seeming not to care that he's practically on top of her. And Nell realizes this is just another assignment. Callen has always been protective of his people and it makes sense that she's part of that group since she and Eric provide valuable support, just not in the line of fire.

Nell's thoughts begin to clear as her brain starts functioning normally and the shock of the night's events starts to fade. She resists the urge to actually shake her head, knowing it will likely bring on a fresh wave of pain.

"Here," Callen says, handing her the mug of tea and two aspirin. "You'll probably have a wicked headache later, but this should help."

"Thanks," she says, smiling slightly. She can feel the tug of the broken skin on her lip. Nell takes a moment to figure out how to drink the tea without further injuring her lip and eventually settles on a method that mostly works.

"And you'll need this." Callen hands her a cold pack and she carefully places it on her jaw, simultaneously gasping in shock and sighing in relief at the cold against her battered skin.

"Now," he says, pulling out a bandage wrap. "I'll take a look at your ankle."

"Okay," she says, not resisting when he picks up her right foot, cradling it in his lap.

Callen's fingers are warm and gentle. Nell tries not to think about it, which is difficult, given the circumstances. But his touch is also methodical, clinical, and his examination of her foot and ankle is quick.

"Well, there's no swelling, so you probably just tweaked it. I'll wrap it up so you'll have some stability."

Nell says nothing, watching Callen wrap her foot with efficiency. He gives her a reassuring smile when he's done, patting her ankle, and gently setting it back down on the floor. She sips her tea as Callen re-packs the kit and returns it to its rightful place.

"Thank you," she says when he returns. "I don't want to think about what might have happened if you hadn't shown up."

He shrugs and sits on the coffee table in front of her again. "You would have done the same if you'd had the opportunity."

Nell looks away, then, suddenly ashamed. "Somehow, I don't think you would have gotten into the same kind of situation."

He says nothing, but she won't look at him. His knee nudges hers.

"Hey."

Nell looks at him and is surprised to see compassion, not disappointment, in his eyes.

"Things happen," he says. "You can't always predict how everything will go down and you can't always prepare for everything."

Logically, she knows what he's saying. She looks down at the mug in her hand.

"Nell," he says, leaning forward and looking up into her eyes. "What happened tonight wasn't your fault. It could have happened to any of us."

"I...understand what you're saying," she responds, holding his gaze. "I just..."

"Think you could have done more?" Callen finishes, smiling softly. "You know what? What happened tonight has revealed another deficiency in our training regimen, I think."

Nell frowns in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I've read your file. Unlike Eric, you've had firearms training and hand-to-hand combat, right?"

She nods.

"That's good, but it's just training. Just because you know the moves, doesn't mean you know how to use them in a real fight."

"But I'm not a field agent."

Callen shakes his head dismissively. "Doesn't matter. The support group-you and Eric, for example-are just as important. Without you, we're blind and lacking information."

She doesn't say anything, still processing his words.

"You've been out with us a couple times when you've had to," Callen continues. "Can you imagine what might've happened if you'd been taken during one of our cases?"

"But I'm just an intelligence analyst...oh."

He nods, smirking slightly. "Exactly. And a good one. All the things you know...that Eric knows...in the wrong hands, it could be extremely dangerous."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Talk to Hetty," he answers.

He seems to come to some sort of mental conclusion and then stands. "Ready to go? You should get some rest. I'll drive you."

"Yeah, I think so," Nell replies, standing slowly. She tries out her aching ankle gingerly and flexes her foot a few times.

"Good?" Callen asks.

"Nothing a hot soak and some rest won't solve."

Nell takes it slow, stopping by the kitchen area to drop off her mug before meeting up with Callen at the entrance. He keys in the code to arm the alarm and shuts the operations center down for the night.

Callen watches from his car as Nell slowly makes her way to her apartment. He'd debated walking her to her door, but by the time they'd arrived, he could tell she was feeling self-conscious and likely would have perceived his presence as hovering. So, he watches and then waits a full five minutes in the parking lot before heading home. His mind is racing and he's a little surprised at how angry he is at the thugs who attacked Nell.

As he pulls out of the complex, he speed dials Sam.

"Hey, I need you to look into something for me."

"What's up?"

"Nell got jumped tonight."

"What? Is—"

"I took care of it," Callen interrupts.

Sam's silent for a long moment. "What do you need?"

"I'm more concerned about who these jerks are. I don't want to involve Eric, yet."

"Understandable. Send me what you have, I'll get on it."

Callen ends the call and forwards a few items from his phone to Sam.

He's waiting for her outside her apartment building the next morning.

"What are you doing here?" she blurts out.

Callen is leaning casually against his car. "Good morning to you, too," he says with a grin.

"Sorry, good morning," Nell replies, ducking her head in embarrassment. "I just wasn't expecting you."

He shrugs and pushes off the car to walk closer to her. "I figured since your car was in the shop I'd give you a lift."

"And check up on me?" her tone is more abrupt than she intends.

Callen's eyebrows rise slightly. "You just come out and say what's on your mind, don't you?"

"I'm working on it."

He shakes his head. "Don't. It's refreshing. And, yes, to check up on you."

Callen hooks a finger under her chin again and examines her face. He grimaces when he sees the bruising on her chin.

"Ouch, that looks painful," he murmurs.

"I'm sure you've had worse."

"Maybe. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

Nell considers the statement and nods in agreement. Truth be told, it hurt so much she couldn't even apply what little makeup she sometimes wore to cover it up.

"Nell? Is everything all right?" a neighbor calls as she walks up the sidewalk. She eyes Callen suspiciously when she sees Nell's bruises. "Who's this?"

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Miller," Nell says, trying to placate the older woman. "This is one of my colleagues."

"Callen," he introduces, offering a hand and flashing one of his dazzling smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Are you one of Miss Jones's neighbors?"

"Yes," Mrs. Miller replies, not quite sure what to make of Callen. "I live two doors down." She turns back to Nell, "What happened, dear?"

"I had a run-in with some would-be muggers," Nell admits, knowing full well the older woman will worry but also knowing it'll be worse if she doesn't say anything. "Callen happened to come by at just the right time and helped me out."

Mrs. Miller's attitude towards Callen instantly changes. "Well! It's nice to know there are still decent people in this world," she replies, giving Callen an approving look. "Thank you for taking care of our Nell, here."

"It was my pleasure," Callen replies.

"You two have a nice day," Mrs. Miller calls as she makes her way back to her apartment, giving Nell a significant look with her eyes flicking towards Callen.

"And you, ma'am."

Nell sighs softly.

"What was that look all about?" Callen asks.

Damn. "Oh, you saw that?"

He just looks at her.

"Of course you did." Nell blows out a breath. "Let's just say she's been trying to set me up with every available man within about a 3 mile radius ever since I moved in."

"And I'm an available man?" he smirks.

Nell stares. "Worse."

"Worse?"

"Since you saved me, she probably thinks you're my knight in shining armor, now."

Nell swats at Callen's arm when he starts to grin. He side steps and chuckles.

"My Lady," he mocks, opening the passenger side door for her.

Nell sighs heavily and gets in.

When they walk into the office, Nell's surprised to find a small audience waiting for her.

Deeks and Sam are doing their over-protective big brother thing. Kensi's hanging back, but Nell can see the concern on her face. Eric is bouncing in his flip flops and looks like he wants to hug her.

"What'd you find out?" Callen asks Sam.

Nell looks at him in confusion.

"Ordinary thugs," Sam said.

Callen nods and Nell notices a tiny bit of tension has left him.

"Are you okay?" Eric finally asks, rushing forward and stopping right in front of her.

"Yeah, just sore," she says. "What thugs?" she directs at Callen.

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna were following up on the identities of your attackers, Miss Jones."

Hetty appears around the edge of the gathering, hands behind her back. She walks up to Nell and studies her face. Hetty's features are stuck on "disdain" as her eyes follow the length of the bruising.

"In case they targeted me specifically?" she asks slowly.

"There was a chance they could have been hired to snatch you for interrogation, like we discussed," Callen adds.

"Ah," Nell replies. She's not sure if she feels better about that or not. "But they weren't."

"Nope," Sam supplies. "Just regular street thugs. They have extensive records: petty theft, armed robbery, muggings...you know the type."

"In any case," Hetty announces, "this situation has brought to light an even more urgent need to revamp our training regimen-even for our support staff."

"What did you have in mind?" Sam asks.

"It's quite simple, really. I propose the addition of at least one tactical training session to accompany each practical training session," Hetty explains.

"Well, what's the difference?" Eric asks, clearly confused.

Both Hetty and Callen look at Nell. Deeks opens his mouth to speak, but Kensi elbows him to stay quiet.

"That would be exactly what happened to me," Nell says. "I've had some training, but it's just...by the book training. I've had firearms training, but only on the range with a stationary paper target. I've had hand-to-hand combat training, but only with specific forms and scenarios. I have the tools, but none of it came close to what I needed to handle getting jumped."

Callen's hand on her shoulder surprises her and Nell realizes she's wrapped her arms around herself. She forces herself to relax.

"Precisely," Hetty says. "Tactical training for support personnel will have a slightly different focus than what our active field agents have."

"How so?" Deeks pipes up.

"We hire the best and brightest for our support personnel, thus, their area of expertise is not offense," Hetty explains.

"You want to train them to be able to get out of a situation quickly," Sam interjects.

"Indeed, Mr. Hanna."

Eric purses his lips and tilts his head in thought. "That makes sense. When does this new training begin?"

"Immediately," Hetty says, pinning him with her gaze. "Mr. Hanna, would you kindly give Mr. Beale his first training session in hand-to-hand combat? Since Mr. Beale has had virtually no self-defense training, you'll have to combine practical and tactical material."

Eric's face pales, which is a feat given he is already quite pale despite his ocean surfing habits.

"With pleasure," Sam says with glee. "Come on, Eric." He claps a hand heavily on Eric's shoulder, literally making the other man stagger.

"What about me?" Nell asks, watching her partner glumly leave the room.

"You, Miss Jones, will begin your training a little later in the week," Hetty says. "Given your current injuries, I feel it would be best to let you recover for at least a couple more days."

Nell nods.

"But, you will be properly prepared, my dear," Hetty says, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "I am so sorry this happened to you."

"Hetty, there's no way you could have known," Nell pleads.

"Nevertheless, I am responsible for each and every employee here and to know that we have not done what was needed to ensure your safety is inexcusable."

Nell merely nods, knowing she can't change the other woman's mind.

"Now, while Mr. Beale is-"

"Getting his ass kicked?" Callen helpfully supplies.

"I was going to say learning, Mr. Callen," Hetty glares. "While Mr. Beale is otherwise occupied, I think it'd be a good idea for you to cover his station, Miss Jones."

"Will do," Nell answers, heading upstairs.

"Mr. Callen, a word, if you will." Hetty turns and heads to her office area.

Callen stays where he's standing for a moment longer as he watches Nell make her way upstairs. It's clear her ankle is still bothering her, but he knows it takes time to recover from injuries of any sort, no matter the severity. He also knows Nell's a capable woman. He'd seen how she fought against the men. She's quick and she's trained, but she hasn't been trained to fight.

"Mr. Callen?" Hetty calls.

"On my way, Hetty."

He strides over to Hetty's open office space and sits in a chair in front of her desk. They regard each other in silence for a moment.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Hetty finally asks.

"I think it's better than letting them fend for themselves."

Hetty nods. "How was she, after?"

"Nell? As well as could be expected," Callen responds, settling deeper into the chair. "She actually did pretty well. The guy who hit her really hit her hard. I'm surprised she stayed conscious."

"Mr. Callen, please don't break my furniture."

Callen looks at his hands, surprised to find his knuckles white as he grips the arm rests on the chair.

"Sorry," he murmurs, crossing his arms instead.

"Perhaps you should redirect your feelings on the subject towards establishing a training program for our support staff, specifically for Miss Jones."

Callen's eyebrow goes up. "You want me to supervise her training?"

"Weren't you going to anyway?"

Point.

"I'll start her off with Kensi."

"Because she's a woman."

Callen shrugs. "Nell can benefit from information from all of us. But, yes, Kensi can offer particular insight of interest. And I think the support staff should train and spar amongst themselves, too. It'll give them a chance to see what it's like facing off against similar kinds of people."

"A good plan," Hetty agrees. "I'll inform Director Vance, as well, should the need arise to implement a course like this at other NCIS facilities."

Eric stumbles into Ops an hour later, noticeably limping. Nell arches an eyebrow at him but opts not to speak when Eric puts a hand up.

He eases down into his chair and sighs in contentment. Moments pass.

"Who knew you could inflict so much pain with one finger?"

"I hope you took notes," Nell quips with a smile.

Eric swivels and looks back at her. "Oh, I did. And video. Sam made sure I tried everything he taught me several times. He even let me try them on him."

"And?"

He turns away. "Let's just say I'll be reviewing the video in the privacy of my own home."

"That bad, huh?"

Eric gives her a sardonic look. "Do you have to ask?"

Nell gives him a sympathetic smile. "So…do you think this is a good idea?"

Eric sighs, winces, and settles into a more comfortable position.

"I…think so," he replies. "I mean, I get it, Sam's a former SEAL, so he's obviously going to have way better skills than I ever will. And, given what…happened…precautions are necessary. This is just going to, well…"

"Suck for a while?" Nell finishes.

"Yeah," Eric agrees, tentatively stretching.

Nell nods and she reflects on everything that's happened in such a short period of time. She still hasn't gotten over the sheer helplessness she felt last night.

She isn't a field agent, but Nell has had some weapons and hand-to-hand combat training. NCIS support staff aren't required to, but it seemed like a good idea, especially since she's had to do some intelligence gathering and forensics on some of the weapons confiscated during a case. A working knowledge of the tools used in criminal investigations seemed practical. The hand-to-hand training did, too, given some of the unsavory sorts of people who end up being found at the end of a case.

But, Nell is in the business of information gathering... sensitive information gathering. And she's good at it. Nell is one of the best when it comes to gathering information, dissecting it, analyzing it, and extracting crucial pieces of information from it. It's one of the reasons she's part of NCIS's special operations group.

She'd been recruited by the CIA and the NSA, but opted not to take those opportunities. Instead, she went to the Office of Naval Intelligence and spent a few years becoming an expert on South American issues. The Navy was part of her family. Her father had been in the Navy, and his father before him. And, while ONI and NCIS are civilian organizations, the subjects they often dealt with kind of reminded her of home, but in a tangential sort of way.

The point, though, is that she isn't an agent, and while she made an effort to learn skills utilized more by field agents, clearly it wasn't enough.

The main terminal beeps, bringing her back to the moment. Files start popping up on her display.

"But, I'll worry about that later," Eric muses, reading the bulletin. "We've got a new case."

The next several days are business as usual as the field agents are occupied with the latest case. Deeks has the pleasure of going undercover as a street bum again, but with the added humiliation of having to actually sleep in a pile of garbage. Kensi still won't let him ride with her. Sam gets to body check Callen into a wall to gain the trust of their suspect-Callen's still wincing. But, after a successful wrap up, the team falls into a new routine of training amongst all the staff.

It's a week after the attack before Nell's turn is up. Kensi comes to her near the end of the day and, surprisingly, takes her out for a walk and not towards the gym.

"So, how does this work?" Nell asks.

"Well, I figured I'd find out what you know already and we'd go from there. You're a little different from the rest of the support staff," Kensi says. "You seem to have a little more training."

Nell shrugs. "I don't really advocate the use of weapons or fighting, but it's not like I can control the kinds of people I interact with, especially in our line of business. It seemed like a good idea to know how to use the tools, even if I don't really utilize them."

Kensi mulls over the information for a moment. "That's a very practical line of thinking. Has your point of view changed at all since…"

"Since I was attacked?" Nell asks. "Well, I know now that what I do know isn't enough. But…"

"But?" Kensi encourages.

"How far do you go?"

"Ah," Kensi says, stopping at a bench and gesturing for Nell to sit. "That's an important question."

"That night, Callen told me that you can't always prepare for everything," Nell starts. "But I can't help but think that I should have been able to do more…that if I'd gone a little further with training I could have dealt with it. If Callen hadn't been there…"

Silence falls between the two women.

Kensi breaks it first. "He's right, you know. You can't prepare for everything. We're caught off guard all the time, human nature makes it impossible for us to know every possible move."

"You guys seem to do pretty well," Nell observes, kicking the ground with her foot.

Kensi smiles and catches Nell's eye. "This is why we have tactical field training. We're exposed to combat situations all the time, so it becomes second nature to us. But it never happens the same way twice, so there's no procedure to follow. It's very easy for something to go wrong and it almost always does. At least a little."

"So how do you make tactical training effective for those of us who aren't exposed to combat situations very often, if at all?"

"I think," Kensi begins, rising and moving back towards the office, "we're supposed to arm you guys with a couple key pointers and some actual instruction and application. Like Hetty said, your goal is to get away, not stay and fight."

Nell nods. "So what do we do first? I kind of expected us to start off in the gym, not go for a walk."

Kensi smiles, a little mischief in her eyes. "Oh, we'll get to the gym in a minute, but like I said, I wanted to know what you knew and I didn't really mean training. Fighting is different for women. Most likely, your opponents will be men. I'm going to teach you how to use that to your advantage."

"My advantage?"

"Absolutely," Kensi says. She eyes Nell critically. "You're small, but I bet you're fast. Most men are very uncomfortable fighting a woman. They either think we're weak or, if they know better, don't want their pride hurt if we kick their asses."

Nell snickers.

"It's true! Deeks hates it when I one-up him when we spar. Sam used to pout a whole lot more when we fought."

"And Callen?"

Kensi lets out a laugh. "Let's just say there was a point where I didn't have to buy my own beer for a long, long time."

Nell laughs with her, then asks, "So, what will we do first?"

"Well, I think I want to do a little small group training. Callen asked me to make sure to spend some time with all the female support staff and offer my insights on appropriate tactics for you guys. Some of that we can do one-on-one, but small groups will help, I think."

"Sounds reasonable. Do we start today?"

"Yep. A couple of the other women should be waiting for us when we get back."

After some consideration, Kensi decides to start training with groups of 3-4 women at a time. It's mostly hand-to-hand, close quarters combat, because it's unfortunately the most common assault a woman alone on the street will likely face. She teaches them the quickest, most effective way to break a hold on an assailant, emphasizing that they can't worry about hitting them too hard. Of course, when she has them practice on each other, she's there to make sure they don't actually hurt each other and to utilize plenty of padding when necessary.

"Remember," she coaches. "Whether it's a man or another woman coming at you, either way they're trying to hurt you and you don't want that. You can't pop them in the face, say you're sorry, and then help them up. And this isn't like the movies where you're going for the world's longest fight scene. The faster you can get them down and out of the picture, the faster you can get away to safety."

Someone snickers from the doorway and Kensi turns to see Deeks, casually leaning against the frame, a couple other guys peeking in around him.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, slowly turning to face the man. This isn't the first time Deeks and the others have shown up at the training room. And this isn't the first time she's had to forcibly throw them out.

The third time she has to, she's more than a little pissed off.

Deeks at least seems to have enough of a sense of self-preservation not to say anything in public and he's careful not to be within striking range whenever possible. But he does slip comments to her in private. Kensi's always been able to ignore his banter and teasing before, but somehow this is different.

After she breaks her second coffee mug, Callen takes her aside. They stand in a little alcove on the second floor. Kensi is pacing. Fast. Callen's leaning against the wall, a picture of serenity.

"I know, I know," she starts, wanting to hold off on the lecture she thinks is coming. "I shouldn't let him get to me. It's just...really hard to concentrate when Deeks is making stupid suggestive remarks. Things like, 'You can practice your moves on me anytime'."

Callen tries not to smirk, but fails. Kensi smacks him on the arm. But the lecture doesn't come.

"Kens, why don't you let him?"

"What? And let him have the satisfaction?"

"I was thinking more to give the women a chance to kick some ass," he says with a smile before pushing off from the wall and turning to leave. "Or is that 'an ass'? In any case, I think getting beat up by a woman, in front of other women, will go a long way to adjusting Deeks's attitude, don't you?"

He hears her cackling for a long, long while.

At the next group session with the women and Kensi, Deeks and a couple of the support staff men are hanging outside the training room door as usual. Kensi approaches them and Deeks gives her his most charming, suggestive smile.

He takes a step back and his smile falters just a little when she smirks in return.

"Hi, guys!" Kensi greets.

Way. Too. Happily.

Before any of them can react, she grabs them-Deeks by the front of his shirt-and forces them into the training room, slamming the door behind them.

"Kens? Hey, come on," Deeks says. There's a look of mild concern on his face. The other two guys are hiding behind him, eyeing the other women warily.

"I think we need to introduce some variety into our training." Kensi asks, "What do you think, ladies?"

Sounds of assent come from the women as well as vigorous head nods. Nell's in the group, too, and Kensi smiles broadly when she sees the smaller woman turn to the side and cover her mouth with her hand.

A voice comes from the doorway: "Sounds like a great plan."

Kensi spins around, clearly surprised to see Callen. She hadn't heard the door open.

"Part of the goal of this training is to give everyone the opportunity to learn and be exposed to as many different situations we can safely provide," Callen explains, addressing the whole room.

The guys are visibly disappointed. Clearly they'd hoped Callen would save them.

"I'm sure Agent Blye has more than adequately prepared you to demonstrate your skills on each other," he continues.

"Absolutely," she confirms.

"The show's all yours," he nods. "What's first?"

Kensi smiles, again, and it's clear Callen is struggling not to laugh.

"More like, who," she answers, staring right at Deeks. "We always start with an overview before breaking off into group exercises."

Deeks starts backing away again, but this time the other two men propel him forward. He spends the next several minutes mostly on the mat as Kensi takes him down repeatedly.

"Now, obviously, your opponents aren't going to just stand there and let you assault them," Kensi explains. "Just remember, the most important thing is not to panic."

Half a beat later, Deeks has Kensi in a choke hold. They grapple for several moments and just when it looks like Deeks is going to win the round, Kensi uses her smaller size, speed, and flexibility to out maneuver him and Deeks goes down one more time.

"Okay," Deeks breathes. "I have to admit, that was good."

"Thanks," Kensi says, helping him off the mat with a smile.

"So," she continues, clapping her hands together. "Have at it, ladies!"

The women turn to look at Callen and the other men. Kensi swears she hears squeals of glee from some of them. She starts to feel a little apprehensive. Maybe her demonstration with Deeks was a little bit too enthusiastic...

"Callen, why don't you take Nell?" Kensi instructs.

"Sure," he answers.

Kensi blows a breath out, happy to know she won't have to worry about at least one pair. Now, she just has to make sure the other women don't rip apart the rest of the guys.

"Uh, don't worry," she says to the rest of the group. "Deeks and I will be supervising to make sure no one gets hurt."

There's at least one sigh of disappointment.

Callen gestures at Nell and they wander off to the far side of the gym so they have room to work.

"So, I haven't had a chance to ask," he begins. "How is the training going for you?"

"Uh, good," she says, looking up at him earnestly. "Kensi's taught us a lot of useful things. I can only hope I can remember it all for when it's needed."

Callen smiles. "Practice makes perfect. Now you know why we're sparring all the time."

"So...what first?"

"Kensi's been teaching you how to break out of holds?"

Nell nods.

"Then we'll start with that."

They spend a few minutes working through the basics. Callen's hold on Nell is never very strong, but she's still too timid.

"Well, you understand the basics, but you really need to apply it more," he says. "Let's try it again, but this time I won't give in so easily."

And, true to his word, Callen keeps his hold on Nell and she isn't able to do much about it.

"Use a little more force," he instructs, his voice low.

He's surprised when she stops moving. And then Callen takes note of their position. His lips are right by her ear and he's pretty sure the edge of his mouth grazed her earlobe when he spoke. He's so close to her, Nell's short hair is tickling his face and he can smell the fragrance of her shampoo. It's something mildly floral.

Slightly alarmed at just how intimate their position is, Callen backs off a tiny bit, moving his head to the side. That movement seems to spur Nell into action and she does as she's told, yanking and pushing in the way Kensi taught her and with a noticeable upwards change in force. Callen allows himself to be pulled off balance and falls to the mat.

"You got me." He smiles up at her, propping himself up on an elbow.

Nell seems surprised she's still standing and he's not and then the most amazing look crosses her features and Callen forgets to breathe for a few beats.

It isn't the look of desire or lust or any of the normal kinds of things that catches a man's attention. It isn't even the look of fear or anger that fighting situations often bring out. Instead it's something much more powerful and, unfortunately, rare that it literally takes his breath away.

It is the look of empowerment.

Callen realizes it's the lack of confidence in her own abilities that's making Nell hold back. And this moment is the first-of many, he hopes-when she realizes she is capable of more than intelligence gathering and analysis.

He picks himself off the mat and faces her. "Again?"

"Yes."

The reply comes quickly and Callen forces himself not to laugh. He's glad, really, that she's eager to learn and apply what she knows to practical situations.

He changes his hold for the next try. Now, he has one arm around her waist, the other is across her shoulders. Her arms are pinned inside the cage he's made.

"This is an unconventional hold," he explains. "It's weaker, because I don't have a grip on myself to hold you in place, but until you can work out how to exploit the weakness, it's pretty effective."

"So-"

Nell's words are cut off by Kensi asking for the room's attention. She has Deeks in a strange position and clearly she wants to share.

Callen stands up, loosening his arms, and they both turn to watch the demonstration.

It takes several seconds for Callen to realize he still has his hands on her. In fact, it isn't until Nell leans back into him that he notices at all. His right hand is on her hip, his left casually draped across her shoulder. It just feels right.

But they both jump when her back touches his chest, and then they're standing a good two feet apart.

Callen doesn't think anyone notices, but Kensi throws an inquiring eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and she drops it, continuing her demonstration.

The rest of the training session goes without much excitement. They switch partners, so Callen doesn't have an opportunity to train anymore with Nell, but the thing-the whatever-that happened between them makes him distracted. The upside is all the other women get a chance to take Callen down, but their triumph doesn't make him feel the same way Nell's did. It's that thought, plus his mind replaying earlier events, that keeps him distracted and, thus, in various positions on the mat throughout the training session.

It's a vicious cycle that, frankly, has Callen quite bewildered by the end of the class. He's still on the ground when the students depart and he sees Deeks's face peering down at him.

"You all right, there, buddy?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You...don't look fine."

Callen arches an eyebrow.

"You're still on the floor."

"I like it here."

Kensi's face enters his field of view, opposite from Deeks. "Is it just me or were you going easy on them?"

"Who, me?"

Kensi and Deeks share a look and, not for the first time, Callen mentally calls bullshit on their not having a "thing."

"You definitely weren't at the top of your game," Kensi observes.

Callen rolls his eyes and sits up. "I like to think of it as fostering an environment of learning. It wouldn't be good for them to be discouraged all the time."

"Since when do you boost agent morale?" Deeks asks.

"They're not agents," Callen points out.

Deeks ponders the point and nods his head in agreement.

Callen turns to Kensi. "Good class, Kens. You've done a good job."

"Thanks," she answers, genuinely appreciative. "And thanks for convincing me to let the men participate. I think it was good for them to learn to fight against each other. I mean, I told Nell a few weeks back that most men aren't comfortable fighting a woman. It's only fair we give the men a chance to experience it."

"Yeah," Callen grunts as he gets himself up off the floor. His knees have never been the same since he passed the mid-30s mark. Not that being thrown out of moving cars has helped, either. Or being tossed about by students in training. "I think we need more padding, though."

Nell watches Callen, Kensi, and Deeks exit the training room as she's packing up for the night. The class was more interesting than others since they added the men.

But that thing with Callen-what was that? She could have sworn his lips grazed her ear and his voice, barely a whisper, made her react in an entirely unexpected way. True, the whole point of the exercise was for him to hold her, but at one point it seemed a little more personal. Intimate, even.

And then later, Nell isn't sure what had possessed her to actually lean into him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do at the time. Clearly, she hadn't been thinking straight because, in retrospect, it really was the most insane thing to do.

Except she'd be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed it at least a tiny bit.

And he hadn't called her out on her behavior. In fact, she's pretty sure Callen was just as surprised as she was when it happened. So, she watches him for a moment, but Callen never looks her way.

Nell frowns slightly, and then shakes her head to clear her thoughts. "Get a grip, Nell."

Determined not to think of the incident anymore, she gathers her belongings and leaves the compound for the night. Her subconscious, though, has other ideas. The more she tries not to think about Callen, the more he's just everywhere.

As she's driving home, she keeps thinking up imaginary conversations she'd have with him. She double takes every time she sees a lone guy walking down the street with his approximate physical characteristics.

Nell groans aloud as she pulls up to her apartment complex. She knows what this is and a feeling of mild dread settles in her stomach.

She's got a thing for Special Agent G. Callen.

This presents a problem. Several, in fact. Like she'd told Eric before, her tendency is to ignore the object of her affection. That was easier to do in school or her previous position when she was on the periphery and could watch, and yearn, from afar.

But here, in OSP, she's one of the main support staff. She can't avoid interacting with the field agents, much less the lead special agent.

Then there's the fact the field agents are training up the support staff because of her. It's only natural for Nell to be of special interest to them. And, of course, since Callen had been the one to see the instigating incident first hand, no doubt he was especially interested in her progress.

All in all, the situation doesn't lend itself to allowing Nell to ignore, and be ignored by, Callen.

She sighs. She doesn't want to deal with this, if only because she's happy at NCIS and doesn't want to risk doing anything to jeopardize her position or make it become unpleasant.

Besides, the few times she'd broken her silence when it came to guys she'd taken an interest to in the past hadn't gone well. She'd had a couple other relationships, albeit very short lived and not serious at all, but those fizzled out quickly.

Nell takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, willing all the anxiety and silliness in her head to go with it.

"I can do this," she murmurs to herself. "I can go back to keeping my feelings completely professional."

Except, of course, that she totally can't.