The next few days are intense and exhausting. Nell starts to wonder if actually having been on the mission was harder than dealing with the aftermath.

The debriefing is long and painful. The mandatory psychological evaluation and counseling sessions are alternately frustrating and embarrassing, but ultimately helpful.

She's physically tired and mentally drained, but she knows she just has to get through it and life will get back to normal. But there's one thing about the whole process that gets to her: paperwork.

"That's it," she mutters after the seventh nearly identical form she has to fill out. "I'm going to create a more efficient, electronic way to do this."

"Many have tried, all have failed," Callen quips, dropping into a chair next to her and handing her a mug of tea. "It wouldn't be paperwork if there was no paper."

"This is supposed to be a paperless world."

"The world is supposed to be a lot of things," he muses, picking up a newspaper and flipping to the crossword puzzle. "But I still don't have a jet pack."

Nell sighs in frustration, resisting the urge to crumple the next form up into a tiny ball and throwing it somewhere.

"How come you don't have to do this?"

Callen shrugs. "I finished mine. But ours are much shorter than yours. You were on mission for weeks."

Nell makes a face.

"Just a few more pages and you're free," Callen encourages. "Then you can get back to the normal life you had before."

Nell's quiet for a moment before she speaks. "Will it...ever be normal again?"

Callen flips the paper down so he can look her in the eye. "As normal as it ever gets around here."

"You know what I mean."

Callen regards her for a moment longer. "Yes and no. This will be an experience you'll probably never forget and it will likely change the way you see the world from now on. But that is the new normal."

"I guess so," she says, feeling uncertain.

"Do you regret doing it?"

And it's that question that really makes her think. If she's truly honest with herself, she's not.

"No. I'm not. It's...unfortunate what happened and I know it just as easily could have been me in the explosion, but if I had to do it over again, knowing what I do now, I'd like to think I'd still do it."

Callen smiles at her and covers her hand with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

If she thinks about it, Nell realizes that her relationship with Callen has shifted into a more comfortable place. It isn't stagnant or stalled, but it's as if they know each other well enough now to not be apprehensive about discovering new things about each other and themselves.

She still has flashbacks, but Callen's been through this more times than she wished he had and his experiences allow him to help her work through them when they happen.

She still goes out on missions, too, but definitely more in a support staff role than anything else.

Training is also on-going and now Nell understands the importance of tactical application. Well, as much as they can accomplish in a simulated environment, that is.

But the part Nell likes the most is when things happen and Callen seems to open up a little more, share more of himself with her. It's usually just after a mission and she starts to think it's become part of his transitioning process.

The next time Callen gets thrown out of a moving car-he's actually thrown out this time, he didn't jump out-Nell's there to deal with the aftermath. During the mission, in Ops, Eric gives her a sideways glance when it happens. Nell doesn't really react, just sighs heavily.

Of course, Callen doesn't go to Medical ("Scrapes and bruises, that's all.") which she completely understands so Nell finds him crashed out on the lounge couch later that afternoon. His eyes are open, so she knows he's awake. Nell squats down near his head and stares at him.

Callen blinks.

Nell pokes him in the arm.

He moves only his eyes to look at her.

"No lecture?"

"Wouldn't help," she smiles. "I'll let Sam waste his breath."

"Smart woman."

She lays a hand on his arm. "Come on."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I'm taking you home."

"Trying to take advantage of a wounded man?"

"In your dreams," Nell smirks. "I like to think of it as taking measures to protect my investments."

"So, I'm an investment, now?"

"A hot commodity."

"Really."

"Only for me," she amends before he gets too cocky.

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm. Lack of interest from other markets."

"Ouch," he sighs, mocking a stab to the heart.

"Come on," Nell repeats, tugging on his sleeve. "Let's go home."

Gingerly, Callen levers himself off the couch and, with Nell's help, manages to get upright without too much grimacing.

The ride to Callen's place is quiet and, thankfully, smooth. Sometimes, their alone time is like this and Nell is actually kind of grateful. With Callen, she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence. The space between them is filled with just, well, them. It's comfortable.

Callen manages to get out of the car without too much groaning, but Nell can't help but bite her lip and scrunch up her face in concern.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Then Callen does this thing she sees him do from time to time. First, he looks at her with a smirk, the kind he gives Sam when he's being a mother hen. But the smirk stops just before it completes, as if Callen catches himself and realizes what he's doing. His expression turns more sincere, and Nell's breath catches just that little bit.

This is the Callen she's falling more and more in love with.

This is the Callen she wants to spend more time with.

Because these moments are the only times Callen doesn't have to play a part or be someone with a made up life.

Sometimes, Nell thinks he's just as surprised as she is when they share these kinds of moments together. She feels like the luckiest girl in the world to be able to be part of his life.

"Okay, so maybe it hurts a little more than it used to," he admits.

Nell grins.

"Maybe I'm getting too old for this," Callen sighs.

"Nah," Nell says as she walks around the car and takes his arm. "But maybe you're getting too old to get thrown out of moving vehicles."

As soon as they enter his house, Callen heads straight for the master bedroom and flops, face first, on the bed. He feels Nell climb up beside him.

"Where does it hurt?" she asks.

"Where doesn't it?"

And then he's in heaven because she straddles his hips and starts gently massaging his sore muscles.

Callen's eyes are hooded, unfocused on anything in particular as Nell makes him whole again and he thinks, not for the first time, that he could get used to this. In fact, he has gotten used to it in the months they've been together.

His eyes start to roam around the room and they settle on the few pieces of hers that she's left on numerous visits. A cardigan for the cool nights. A casual sun dress for the days. A change of clothes or three. He knows she has a toothbrush in the bathroom.

They're little things, and they're few, but Callen realizes he wants them to be more significant.

He exhales slowly and with it goes a tension Callen hadn't even realized he was carrying. He realizes that although Nell's becoming more and more a part of his life, he's still a little apprehensive, still unconsciously aware of the consequences of breaking rule number 12.

Callen also realizes he's absolutely not sorry for breaking it.

"I think you should move in," he says casually.

Nell pauses for a moment, then resumes her ministrations.

"Hmm, I don't know..."

Callen frowns. Was he pushing it with her? "What, you don't want to?"

"Oh, I do," she says, and now he can hear the smile in her voice.

"Then what's the problem?"

She drops down beside him and looks him in the eye.

"As much as I love your Spartan lifestyle, I'm going to have to insist on more furniture," she says, face serious for all of a second before she breaks into a grin. "And, no, you can't return it."

Callen groans and flips over onto his back. "Sam told you about that, huh?"

"Of course he did. He's the first person I went to with questions after I came back from Venezuela and discovered you'd bought a bed. We discussed the fact that you might have been replaced with a clone or we'd missed an actual miracle."

Callen eyes Nell suspiciously.

"I'm beginning to think it's a bad idea to let you hang out with Sam."

"It's not like you can stop me; we work together," she reasons.

"True, but if you lived here, then I could at least supervise on your off time."

"So," Nell drawls, "I'll move in so you can make sure Sam and I don't gang up on you too much."

"And you get...furniture."

Nell eyes him. "This is the weirdest deal ever."

"I think," Callen responds, pulling her to him, "that we've already established our relationship as being anything but normal."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Nell replies with a grin.

Callen has no additional remark, so he kisses her instead.

The End