SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR ME
by MioneAlterEgo

DISCLAIMER: Statistically, I have a better chance of dying in an elevator accident than ever owning these characters.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, y'all, this is what happens when I write under the influence of estrogen and coconut rum. Not gonna lie, it's pretty darn fluffy. (Insert quote from Despicable Me here.) But I had the song stuck in my head for two days and it just sort of morphed into this. And besides, after the way we all got our hearts RIPPED OUT OF OUR CHESTS AND STOMPED UPON in the season finale, I figured a little sweet-and-happy couldn't hurt.

My eternal gratitude, as always, to Mel (imahistorian) and Angela (Angela6257) for their feedback, guidance, and wonderful friendship. Truly, they are wise in the ways of the FanFic Force. Plus, they're just all-around awesome people for putting up with me in the first place. Ha!

Hope you all enjoy this bit off sweetness and fluff. Let me know what you think!

The colored lights and the music drifting out to the deck from inside the bar set a festive scene, and as a cool breeze off the ocean carried the sound of Nell's laughter toward him Callen had the passing thought that they couldn't have ordered a more perfect night.

The dancing hadn't been his idea. At all. In fact, he placed the blame almost entirely on Kensi. But Nell had been so enthusiastic about the novelty of the idea, something they'd never done before, that he'd found it hard to say no. And he was glad he hadn't. Nell wasn't the most skilled dancer on the floor but neither was she the worst, and the beaming grin on her face and the delight in her voice carrying across the dance floor were more than worth the trouble. He didn't often get to see her so happy, so carefree, and dancing was not such a high price to pay for such a lovely reward.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her attempting to lead Eric in something that resembled a swing step. Eric looked vaguely terrified, but Nell was smiling and poking his arm; eventually, he cracked a smile and relaxed into the steps. By the time the song was done he looked like he might even have enjoyed himself a little. The next song began—a number with a quick, Latin beat—and Callen watched with no small degree of curiosity as Deeks cut in.

He was surprised, however, to note that Deeks' dance moves had improved somewhat since the ill-fated waltz lesson in the OSP gym so many months ago. Perhaps he and Kensi had been practicing. Callen filed that thought away for further investigation at a later date and watched Nell's feet carefully. When he was finally satisfied that the other man's over-large Converse sneakers wouldn't trample Nell's much smaller blue vintage heels, Callen relaxed a bit. Deeks seemed more interested in making Nell laugh than in dancing anyhow; he'd spin her, dance for two or three beats, spin her again, and repeat the pattern until Callen could see Nell's shoulders shaking with laughter and could spot the pink in her cheeks even in the dim light of the tiki torches.

"Care to dance? You know, since both of our partners have abandoned us." The amusement in Kensi's tone belied any irritation her words might have suggested. Callen rose from his seat.

"Depends. Are you going to try to lead?"

"Do I need to?" she grinned.

Callen chuckled and took Kensi's hand as she pulled him onto the dance floor. Ten years ago, he realized, before he or Kensi had come to work for OSP, he might have been hitting on her if they'd met in a bar or night club. After all, what red-blooded American male would NOT try to make a pass at the leggy brunette with the wicked smile? And yet, he noted that both he and Kensi spent more time looking at Nell and Deeks than at one another. They exchanged a smile of acknowledgement, and when the song ended it didn't seem at all awkward to pull her into a warm hug.

"Are you having a good time?" Kensi asked.

"I am, yeah. But even if I wasn't, Nell is having fun. It's her party, so as long as she's happy…"

Kensi beamed. "That was really sweet, G."

"Yeah, well, don't tell anyone," he snorted, giving Kensi's hand a squeeze as she pulled away and headed back toward her own partner. Callen glanced up just in time to see Deeks setting Nell back down on her feet after an enthusiastic hug of their own, and he saw Nell give Deeks a quick peck on the cheek before she stepped back to greet her next partner.

The song changed to a slow number, and Callen watched an older man with salt and pepper hair, glasses, and a sad smile cut in. Nell's expression shifted as she stepped into the older man's arms.

She was still smiling, but it had melted into something softer, almost wistful. The singer's voice carried out through the open windows and across the floor as the strains of a slow, jazzy rendition of "The Way You Look Tonight" filled the air. As they danced Callen could see the man mouthing the words to the song and for a moment he thought he saw the glassy sheen of tears forming in Nell's eyes as she rested her head against the man's chest. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as they shifted in place, more a moving hug than an actual dance.

"Mr. Callen."

Callen turned at the sound of Hetty's voice, silently accepting the drink she offered as he waited for her to continue.

"No dancing tonight?"

"I danced a few earlier. Just enjoying the view for now."

Hetty's eyes followed Callen's gaze to the man dancing with Nell. "A girl's relationship with her father is a remarkable thing. Mothers, too, but daughters forever hold a special place in their fathers' hearts."

"She's pretty close to both of them. It's good they were able to come on such short notice."

"I'm sure there's nowhere else they'd rather be." They sat quietly for a moment, sipping their drinks and watching the handful of dancers on the floor before Hetty broke the silence again. "Have you spoken to them?"

"Yeah, we talked for a while earlier. I don't think they like me very much."

"They've hardly had a chance to get to know you. There are a lot of things they do not know about their daughter and therefore cannot truly understand. But you are important to Nell. And, when they see that she is every bit as important to you, I'm quite certain they'll warm up quickly enough."

"You'd think today would've been a pretty good indication."

"Give them time, Mr. Callen," Hetty soothed. "They'll come around."

The music floated and shifted and changed as the hour grew later and later. Group dance songs segued into up-tempo club numbers, which slowly melted into slow dances and jazz standards. Callen looked on as Nell danced with Deeks again, and with Sam, and one more with her father, and he shook his head and bit back laughter when Eric and Nell took turns leading the Cupid Shuffle and the Electric Slide. Callen danced one with Hetty (who, unsurprisingly, had no qualms about leading or correcting his technique) and one with Nell's mother, Nancy, who seemed pleased he'd asked. By the time he spotted Kensi, Deeks, Sam, Eric, and Nell making their way toward him en masse the DJ's voice was carrying across the patio.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this will be our last song of the night. Better make it a good one!"

"Last chance, Nell," Sam warned. "It's not too late to escape. I can hold him down, you can run. Deeks and Kensi will cover you…"

Nell laughed and shook her head as Callen pulled her into his arms. "Thanks, Sam, but I think I can handle it from here."

"You sure?" Deeks countered. "I bet I'm a better dancer than Callen. Bet Sam is, too. And Eric. And the bartender."

"Hey!"

"Guys, I'm positive," Nell laughed. "I promised him. This one is ours."

The others wandered back to the small seating area, tired, happy, and content to let Nell and Callen dance the last song on their own. The two were practically hanging on one another—Nell's arms draped over Callen's shoulders, his hands at the small of her back pulling her closer, foreheads touching, lips a breath apart, completely lost in one another as they moved to the playful, cheery rhythm of the song.

"They're so freaking cute," Kensi sighed.

"They're disgusting," Deeks snorted. "Who dances like that?"

"This from the guy who couldn't keep his hands off my ass during the last Sinatra song? Besides, I think they have a right."

"They can at least get a room or something."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that's on the agenda, too…"

On the dance floor, Callen brought his lips down to Nell's ear. "You look incredible tonight."

Nell tugged at the lapel of Callen's jacket. "Thanks. You don't look half bad yourself. Suits are a good look on you."

"White is a good look on you. It's going to look even better off of you though."

"Agent Callen, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to get me to go to bed with you," she murmured slyly.

"Always knew you were the brains of the relationship," he chuckled, nuzzling her neck. "It's getting pretty late. You ready to get out of here?"

A faint blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. "We probably should start saying our goodbyes at least. Don't want to miss our flight."

They didn't have to go far when the song ended. Nell and Callen found themselves surrounded by their teammates and family; hugs, kisses, handshakes and well-wishes were exchanged freely, along with one or two unbidden tears in unsuspecting eyes, as the group made their way to the parking lot. After many false starts (including a stop to remove the fifteen sets of handcuffs left dangling from the rear bumper of Callen's Mercedes) the two were finally on their way, making the short drive to the airport in relative silence, a welcome respite after the noise and sensory overload of the party they'd just left. Despite the butterflies in her stomach, Nell leaned her head against the headrest of the seat, finally able to relax as she focused on the feeling of Callen's thumb sliding back and forth across the back of her hand.

The line to check in for their red-eye flight was short, and Nell smiled as she recognized the quiet, tinny music being piped in over the speaker system.

"Hey," she whispered. "It's our song—the last one we danced to at the party."

Callen listened for a moment, but just as he began to recognize the music the desk agent called them forward.

"Checking in?"

"Yes," Nell answered. "The 12:30 flight to La Guardia."

"And the name on the reservation?"

"Callen," she breathed. "G and Nell Callen." She felt him squeeze her hand under the ticket counter, and she closed her eyes for just a moment, committing the moment to memory as the song reached her ears once again…

"But don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're gonna be, so darling, save the last dance for me."