but hear it this way; eric/nell (ncis: la)
Title: but hear it this way
Author: duchessofavalon
Fandom: NCIS: Los Angeles
Characters: Eric Beale, Nell Jones
Rating: PGish
Summary: '...yeah, Nate's in her head.'
Nell Jones rarely forgets things. She is always the person to find if you need a detail recalled, be it the location of a case file or the color of the shirt a suspect happened to be wearing on a particular day. She’s been asked fairly often since starting at OSP, in fact, if she has an eidetic memory.
She doesn’t want to know. She likes the enjoyment of remembering tiny details without the pressure of the label.
If someone asks her anything about their latest case, though, they’ll be (as her uncle Randy back home likes to say) shit out of luck. The entire thing is still a giant blur to her as she drops off a stack of files as high as her arm is long on Hetty’s desk.
It’s all Eric’s fault.
No. Damn it. This has nothing to do with Eric. It’s Nate’s fault. Nate’s. Not everything comes back to Eric, God. She doesn’t spend all of her time thinking about him and she doesn’t have a thing for him and she was most definitely not flirting with Nate for his benefit!
…...yeah, Nate’s definitely in her head.
Damn him.
:::
They’re at Eric’s when she cracks. He’d taken her hint on the way to the parking lot and asked if she was up for a movie night, and after she’d been so obvious she was hardly going to tell him ‘no’.
It’s no different than any other night she’s gone over to the tiny studio apartment that he only keeps because it’s right in front of a parking lot that’s right in front of the beach in Venice, and that’s his favorite place to surf, and apparently not having to do anything but walk out his door, down the stairs, and across a parking lot to get to the waves in the morning is ‘like, the best thing ever, and why would I leave this place when the rent is so good and the ocean is right there, Nell?’
Even though it means that to watch Star Wars they have to sit on his bed because Eric doesn't actually have any furniture that isn't said bed and a rickety thing that could maybe have been called a breakfast table in a past life that now houses his computer, leaving him only a tiny space to actually use as a table.
The first time she’d asked him about his lack of furniture, Eric had just looked at her strangely and told her had somewhere to eat, something to sleep on, and something to sit on while playing his games, and what else did he really need?
Men.
She’d just let it go after that, sensing that there was less point in continuing that conversation than there was continuing the one about him moving out of this place that (as her mother likes to say) isn’t big enough to cuss a cat in.
And today she’s definitely not going to bring it up because not only are they sitting on his bed (which she’s actually totally used to by now) watching Star Wars, they’re like...cuddling? Except not really, Nell just sort of ended up leaning on him somehow midway into A New Hope and he hadn’t complained and by the time Obi-Wan sacrifices himself and becomes part of the Force his arm is around Nell’s shoulders and she’s all comfortable and her biggest dilemma right now is not actually their physical proximity, but who is going to have to get up to put in Empire Strikes Back (because she’s not going home tonight without watching that two-hour homage to how amazing Han Solo is).
Going with the theme that this is all someone else’s fault, Nell decides that Eric’s lack of complaints and nice comfy arm (that is far more muscle-y than it seems at first glance) around her are entirely at fault when she says,
“So Nate thinks I have a thing for you.”
There’s a long beat of silence (during which Nell is frantically trying to recall if there is something in the room she can beat herself to death with, because apparently the word vomit from earlier in the day is not gone).
“Huh. And why would he think that?”
Nell is wondering the very same thing. And given the slight hint of smugness that she can hear in Eric’s tone (that makes her want to beat him too), they’re both wondering it sarcastically. She lifts her head from his shoulder to peer up at him, though, and her scowl deepens when she sees he’s grinning at her.
“Eric!”
“Ow! Seriously? Liver shot?”
“I can’t reach your kidneys laying like this.”
She shoves away from him, flopping onto her back with a huff and staring at his ceiling. Huh. She’s never had reason to notice before, but it’s decorated with those glow-in-the-dark stars little kids usually have.
Nell waits till Eric’s slid down to his back beside her to open her big mouth again.
“Was I really that obvious?”
“Nah. It was mostly wishful thinking on my part. Till I heard Nate accusing you of having a thing for me earlier.”
She can practically feel the smirk this time, and reaches over to pop him again. He manages to catch her hand, though, and flips it, lacing their fingers together and holding them out.
“See? Doesn’t look half bad, huh?”
Nell tries to examine their joined hands objectively and finds that she can’t do much more than grin.
“We missed the end of the movie. Can’t see them blowing up the Death Star from here,” she tells him in lieu of actually answering.
“Then stop hiding from me and get up. And you’re putting in ESB, I got the popcorn.”
Nell sighs long-sufferingly and makes a great show of sitting up and settling back into the mass amounts of pillows (which she never misses an opportunity to tease him for) for a moment before shoving up off the bed to change the DVD.
Neither of them comment on it, teasingly or otherwise, when Eric’s hand finds hers again when she sits back down.
Author: duchessofavalon
Fandom: NCIS: Los Angeles
Characters: Eric Beale, Nell Jones
Rating: PGish
Summary: '...yeah, Nate's in her head.'
Nell Jones rarely forgets things. She is always the person to find if you need a detail recalled, be it the location of a case file or the color of the shirt a suspect happened to be wearing on a particular day. She’s been asked fairly often since starting at OSP, in fact, if she has an eidetic memory.
She doesn’t want to know. She likes the enjoyment of remembering tiny details without the pressure of the label.
If someone asks her anything about their latest case, though, they’ll be (as her uncle Randy back home likes to say) shit out of luck. The entire thing is still a giant blur to her as she drops off a stack of files as high as her arm is long on Hetty’s desk.
It’s all Eric’s fault.
No. Damn it. This has nothing to do with Eric. It’s Nate’s fault. Nate’s. Not everything comes back to Eric, God. She doesn’t spend all of her time thinking about him and she doesn’t have a thing for him and she was most definitely not flirting with Nate for his benefit!
…...yeah, Nate’s definitely in her head.
Damn him.
:::
They’re at Eric’s when she cracks. He’d taken her hint on the way to the parking lot and asked if she was up for a movie night, and after she’d been so obvious she was hardly going to tell him ‘no’.
It’s no different than any other night she’s gone over to the tiny studio apartment that he only keeps because it’s right in front of a parking lot that’s right in front of the beach in Venice, and that’s his favorite place to surf, and apparently not having to do anything but walk out his door, down the stairs, and across a parking lot to get to the waves in the morning is ‘like, the best thing ever, and why would I leave this place when the rent is so good and the ocean is right there, Nell?’
Even though it means that to watch Star Wars they have to sit on his bed because Eric doesn't actually have any furniture that isn't said bed and a rickety thing that could maybe have been called a breakfast table in a past life that now houses his computer, leaving him only a tiny space to actually use as a table.
The first time she’d asked him about his lack of furniture, Eric had just looked at her strangely and told her had somewhere to eat, something to sleep on, and something to sit on while playing his games, and what else did he really need?
Men.
She’d just let it go after that, sensing that there was less point in continuing that conversation than there was continuing the one about him moving out of this place that (as her mother likes to say) isn’t big enough to cuss a cat in.
And today she’s definitely not going to bring it up because not only are they sitting on his bed (which she’s actually totally used to by now) watching Star Wars, they’re like...cuddling? Except not really, Nell just sort of ended up leaning on him somehow midway into A New Hope and he hadn’t complained and by the time Obi-Wan sacrifices himself and becomes part of the Force his arm is around Nell’s shoulders and she’s all comfortable and her biggest dilemma right now is not actually their physical proximity, but who is going to have to get up to put in Empire Strikes Back (because she’s not going home tonight without watching that two-hour homage to how amazing Han Solo is).
Going with the theme that this is all someone else’s fault, Nell decides that Eric’s lack of complaints and nice comfy arm (that is far more muscle-y than it seems at first glance) around her are entirely at fault when she says,
“So Nate thinks I have a thing for you.”
There’s a long beat of silence (during which Nell is frantically trying to recall if there is something in the room she can beat herself to death with, because apparently the word vomit from earlier in the day is not gone).
“Huh. And why would he think that?”
Nell is wondering the very same thing. And given the slight hint of smugness that she can hear in Eric’s tone (that makes her want to beat him too), they’re both wondering it sarcastically. She lifts her head from his shoulder to peer up at him, though, and her scowl deepens when she sees he’s grinning at her.
“Eric!”
“Ow! Seriously? Liver shot?”
“I can’t reach your kidneys laying like this.”
She shoves away from him, flopping onto her back with a huff and staring at his ceiling. Huh. She’s never had reason to notice before, but it’s decorated with those glow-in-the-dark stars little kids usually have.
Nell waits till Eric’s slid down to his back beside her to open her big mouth again.
“Was I really that obvious?”
“Nah. It was mostly wishful thinking on my part. Till I heard Nate accusing you of having a thing for me earlier.”
She can practically feel the smirk this time, and reaches over to pop him again. He manages to catch her hand, though, and flips it, lacing their fingers together and holding them out.
“See? Doesn’t look half bad, huh?”
Nell tries to examine their joined hands objectively and finds that she can’t do much more than grin.
“We missed the end of the movie. Can’t see them blowing up the Death Star from here,” she tells him in lieu of actually answering.
“Then stop hiding from me and get up. And you’re putting in ESB, I got the popcorn.”
Nell sighs long-sufferingly and makes a great show of sitting up and settling back into the mass amounts of pillows (which she never misses an opportunity to tease him for) for a moment before shoving up off the bed to change the DVD.
Neither of them comment on it, teasingly or otherwise, when Eric’s hand finds hers again when she sits back down.