Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: LA or its characters…

Author's Note: There doesn't seem to be a lot of Nell/Callen fics in the love-hate genre, which is sort of odd, considering it is a staple of romance stories because tension is hot. Thus I was inspired to share this.

(I know I should be working on Exposed, but if you write, you'll understand that inspiration isn't linear or focused. Aka, my mind wandered and I let it. )

There was a disturbing rumble emerging from his chest, and G. Callen recognized the growl that was insisting to be released. He didn't feel much like fighting it down, for the instigator of the response was but a few yards before him and heading away in the opposite direction. The evil little pixie had not seen him. And if she had, she likely would be walking at a faster pace than her oblivious one. He highly doubted she would stop to greet him and have a brief pointless palaver.

Small talk was definitely not on his mind, either.

The senior field agent of NCIS' Office of Special Projects caught the petite woman up with a few purposeful strides, grabbing her bicep and spinning her to face him. Nell Jones had an incredulous, surprised look on her face at the interruption, her lips parted as if she had barely prevented herself from screaming at the sudden seizure of her person.

"You filed the report," Callen said. His voice was sharp, angry. And he did nothing to temper it. He was angry. It was one thing to be at odds with the intelligence analyst. It was another for her to go behind his back and betray him like she did. Callen did not handle betrayal well, especially from one of the few people in the entirety of his life he had actually trusted.

"Without even consulting me first."

Nell's shocked expression turned indignant.

"I did not," she said. Her normally gentle tone took on the biting edge he'd come to know rather well over the past couple of days. Her hazel eyes flashed as they locked with his. God damn her! Callen just wanted to grab her by the arms and shake some sense into the foolish, stubborn young woman.

"I had to file a progress update, since the senior agent is refusing to sign off on the final report."

Callen really did growl. Semantics. Semantics and Sarcasm. He may have not liked her in the very beginning when she first arrived, with her constant interruptions and the fact that he had to adapt to another person on his team, an unknown factor. But he had adapted, had begun to like Nell Jones. To trust her. They got along fine. Perhaps because she was so very socially easy-going, and not necessarily a compliant push-over, but willing to accommodate others, such as a surly, broken, moody senior agent. And while she was undeniably prone to wit with an edge of sarcasm, she had never been hostilely sardonic towards him before. Well, up to a few days ago, when they'd been assigned to create a report analyzing and outlining a plan for infiltrating a certain terrorist network. Rather quickly, they ran into The Disagreement. Callen knew he was right. And Nell Jones most apparently thought she was right, too. They'd been feuding and fuming ever since. He wouldn't give. The life of an agent depended upon their recommendation, and possibly thousands of others that could be saved by the undercover operation. Her refusal to budge had at first surprised and even intrigued him a little.

Now it only frustrated him to the point of insanity.


When had he pushed her up against the wall?

He was never good at expressing himself, and the extra sparring with Sam was just not releasing all of the tension his tiff with Nell was generating. The young woman looked a little frightened, but a lot more pissed off at being handled as she was. The challenge in her eyes stirred him up and he found that he just couldn't step back and walk away right that moment like he should. Besides, since sense and reason hadn't worked so far, maybe intimidation could. A low tactic to use on someone who was a friend. But at the moment, he couldn't think of Nell Jones as anything besides the enemy in this little war.

"Nell, why don't you just trust me, that I'm right?" he asked, looming in the way he'd cultivated over the years for use on suspects.

Her jaw jutted out assertively, and she said, "Why don't you trust me, that I'm right?"

He growled again as an additional wave of frustration washed over him. He'd never seen Nell so passionately vindictive and rebellious to authority, his authority. Every word she spoke to him on the matter, every fiery look, was a challenge to him. And he just couldn't stand it. She was driving him completely mad.

Perhaps insanity was why G. Callen did something so entirely unexpected that it even took he himself by surprise.

He kissed Nell Jones.

It was the most aggressive kiss he'd ever initiated and at first Nell froze entirely beneath him, as he ran his tongue over her lips and nipped at the soft, sensitive flesh with his teeth. And then she relented, but somehow without yielding to him. Rather she kissed him back just as aggressively as he had attacked her, hands reaching up and circling around his neck, pulling him down to her, granting her better access to his mouth. His own hands found her waist, and pulled her tight against him. Relatively quickly, for he seemed to not have the coherence to stand and kiss the young woman at the same time, they both went staggering back against the wall. His larger body crushed her into the unyielding surface, but he felt no desire to withdraw. The feel of her, the taste of her, was far too overwhelming.

Finally, they were forced to break apart when the brief sharp breaths they managed to steal amongst the fervent kissing were no longer providing enough oxygen to their brains. Callen stepped back, breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the flushed young woman standing before him. She was nearly panting for air, her pale skin a deep shade of pink, her lips red and swollen from his mouth's assault upon them. Her hazel eyes were the largest, roundest he'd ever seen, filled with what could only be described as 'shock'. She looked like nothing more than a fluffy woodland animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Before he could say a word, before he could even catch her, Nell Jones bolted. She literally sprinted down the hall, away from the man she'd just made out with rather heavily.

G. Callen took a couple steps forward, and rested his forehead against the solid, cold wall. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on slowing his heart rate to normal.

What the hell had just happened?

A/N: Will they resolve their little tiff?