Fic: Dangerous Liaisons, part 4
Title: Dangerous Liaisons
Author: jaded_reality
Rating: PG-13 for language and bits of violence
Category: Drama, AU
Genre: Slash
Pairing: G/Sam
Summary: A mistake from his past forces Callen to turn to his team for help. But will they want to?
Spoilers: None that come to mind. This is an AU and takes places prior to the backdoor pilot.
Disclaimer: NCIS, NCIS LA, and the characters therein do not belong to me, and no amount of wishing seems able to change that.
Warning: Discussion of depression and suicide but nothing graphic or detailed.
A/N: I’ve played fast and loose with a few things here, most notably geography, technology and the timelines of the two shows. Also, I probably murdered criminal procedure but good. But this, all 30,000+ words of it, is more about the characters than the plot so hopefully you can forgive. There is a lot of talking and thinking in this story. Also, even though it’s G/Sam, the MCs are really G and Nate.
A/N 2: Sorry for the delay... couldn't get on a computer where LJ wasn't blocked... stupid work.
-4-
Callen had left the vest out, hanging on the back of his chair. After he’d told them the blackmailer was watching him today, Sam had made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t leaving the building for anything remotely connected to this case without a vest. Kensi and Eric had backed him up, and Hetty had put the final nail in the coffin. Nate had just watched their interaction. He hadn’t decided how he felt about Sam’s refusal to let Callen carry a gun. He understood the reason for it, and he couldn’t deny it was probably the best way to approach this.
It certainly wasn’t doing any good for Callen’s state of mind, though, and that was Nate’s primary concern at the moment.
He kept his mouth shut as they gathered around the table. Callen sat down first and Sam parked himself neither next to nor across from his partner. “So we know he was in the immediate vicinity of Sunset this afternoon,” Callen started, and Eric spoke up before he could say anything more.
“Which makes not a shred of sense since the trace put him in Washington.”
“State?” Sam asked, and Eric shook his head.
“District. He’s gotta have something rigged up bouncing signals around. Still trying to back trace it but I don’t think we’re gonna get anywhere on this go-round. Get him next time.”
During the exchange, Callen never took his eyes off his partner, who never once looked in his direction. He considered it a bad sign that Sam was more interested in looking in Nate’s own direction than at Callen.
Something in Callen’s body language bothered him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d taken Sam’s refusal to let him carry a gun to heart. It was a trust issue, and trust was of paramount importance. It always was in law enforcement. Partners needed to trust each other, and Sam and Callen always had. They couldn’t do what they did without an obscene amount of trust, and that trust hadn’t come easy-especially for Callen. Sam’s words, no matter the intent behind them, had conveyed a lack of trust that Callen wouldn’t easily put out of his mind.
He couldn’t say that Callen seemed devastated; Callen wasn’t given enough to extremes of emotion for Nate to ever apply that word to him. He’d been hurt, though; even Callen wasn’t immune to that.
Eric slid something toward Callen; Nate had to lean forward to see that it was a thumb drive. “This is a mockup, faked files. Enough detail that unless he knows something about Breakwater, he shouldn’t be able to tell it’s not the real deal. At least, until he puts it to the test.”
“If he’s good enough to get evidence on Callen-enough evidence that he thinks he’d have Callen over a barrel-he’s gonna have a way to make sure Callen’s not screwing him over.” Sam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. At the other end of the table Callen rocked back in his chair, a little stunned. Even Nate was surprised.
Sam rarely, if ever, used Callen’s last name in the group like this. In the field, or with the higher-ups, maybe. But not like this.
Eric leaned back in his chair, arms folded, frowning. “Short of giving him what he’s really looking for, and I’m pretty sure that the reason Callen even brought us into this is because he’s kind of trying to avoid doing that, there’s no way I can give him something that’ll pass muster if this guy has actual information.”
“Fantastic.” Sam slid his chair back, scowling. “Well I guess there’s nothing else we can do until Callen gets his further instructions. Let’s call it a day.”
He was gone before anyone had a chance to speak. Kensi and Eric stood silently, Kensi patting Callen on the shoulder lightly before she went to grab her gear. Eric shot an irritated look after Sam and then disappeared up the stairs. Hetty was still just staying out of it all.
It wasn’t like her, but it wasn’t a bad idea.
Palming the thumb drive, Callen finally hauled himself to his feet. Nate gave him about a minute’s head start before following.
Callen approached Sam quietly, his soft footfalls barely enough to announce his approach. Sam didn’t turn around and Nate hung back, not wanting to interrupt.
“You want me to resign? That it?”
Sam did turn at Callen’s words, really looking at him for the first time in a day. “That’s bullshit, Callen.”
“Just tell me, Sam. Whatever you want.”
“I want to known what the hell you did that this guy has dirt on you.”
Callen shook his head, keeping his eyes on Sam as he tossed the thumb drive up and down. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Then we’re done here.” Sam moved to step around him and Callen went to block him, dropping the drive in the process. They both bent and reached for it at the same time and Callen recoiled as their hands touched. Sam straightened, the wayward object in his hands, and gave his partner a questioning look. Callen snatched the drive from him and wheeled around without another word. Nate watched Sam stare after Callen for a moment before disappearing himself. It’d been a long day and he had some thinking to do.
#
“When you gonna tell me what this is all about?”
“Never.” G turned away from the chair and headed for the door, currently blocked by Sam’s forbidding-on the best of days-figure.
Yesterday sure as hell hadn’t been a good day and today wasn’t looking so hot either.
“Better for you not to know, Sam.” Maybe if he could make Sam realize it wasn’t his own ass he was trying to protect, he’d back off. He was going down either way at this point; it was only a matter of time. DiNozzo too, maybe. He didn’t want to add Sam to that list. He stopped nearly chest to chest with Sam, who apparently wasn’t as willing to let G keep his secrets this time as he had in the past.
“You know me better than that, Callen.”
G flinched, and cursed at himself inwardly over his reaction. The last thing he needed was to let Sam see how much he was affecting him. He might not be able to control his reactions completely, but he could-and would-keep Sam from piecing it together. “I thought so, too.” He moved to slip by his partner but Sam put an arm up to block the doorway.
“Not so fast.”
G clenched his jaw and stepped back, halfway tempted to tell Sam what he wanted to know; at least then Sam would let him out of the room. He might never speak to him again, but… He shook it off. “You’re the one who wants to protect the team, Sam. I’m trying to do the same thing.”
Sam shook his head. “Nothing wrong with letting other people look out for you, Callen.”
He flinched again and balled his right hand into a fist. Sam’s choice of what to call him shouldn’t hit him so hard; it shouldn’t have affected him at all and it drove him insane that it did.
Sam drove him insane and that wasn’t remotely okay.
“I look out for myself just fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that. S’why you’re getting calls from a blackmailer. Like being a traitor might be better than whatever he’s got on you already.”
G flexed and clenched his fist again. “We both know how this ends, Sam. This isn’t someone holding an affair over me.” Not that certain of his liaisons in the past wouldn’t be fodder for blackmail, but… “You don’t need to end up in prison with me.”
“I’ve got your back. You oughta know that by now.”
“Thought I did.” G flattened his sweaty palm against his jeans. “Move.”
“Not until you tell me what you did and what evidence he has.” Sam widened his stance and crossed his arms.
G turned away and made a show of checking the room for other routes of escape. There was a window he might have been able to fit through-maybe-but Sam would kill him if he tried it, as tempting as the idea of escape at all costs was. “Move it, Sam.”
“Not happening.”
G spun back around, both fists and his jaw clenched. “You don’t need to protect me.”
“Somebody needs to.”
“One more time, Sam.” G almost closed the distance between them, the close proximity not cutting through the angry haze around his brain. “I’m not telling you so get the hell out of the way.”
Sam inched forward until his elbows bumped against G’s chest. “Not. Happening.”
Next thing G knew, Sam was no longer in the doorway and his fist hurt like a mother fucker. His partner stood back against the wall opposite him, a hand over his jaw, his eyes wide. G opened his mouth to apologize but words wouldn’t come. He slipped out the now open doorway, eyes on the floor, leaving Sam behind.