Nell Jones had trouble fitting in. Fact.
It wasn't that she tried to annoy everyone, frustrate them or cut them off mid sentence, hell the first time she did it to Callen the whole Ops room had practically froze, the air so tense it could cut like a knife through butter. It was just who she was.
He knew about fitting in. He had to do it daily with the terrorists and Russian mobsters, tricking them into befriending him and allowing him close, lulling them into a sense of security around his alias. It was an art, an art that in all honesty, he believed Nell Jones lacked.
On her very first day, she had stolen Eric's whistle, much to the techie's dismay and horror. In her following week, she cut Hetty off mid sentence, twice, replaced Sam's fusion cassette tapes with her own and taken full control of the Ops centre and the plasma computer screens. Needless to say, Eric was not amused.
However, he had to admit that he understood where the intelligence analyst stood. Unlike his hundreds of confident, outgoing aliases, G Callen did not know where he stood in life. He had lived in 37 foster homes since he was 5, never staying in some for more than a few days. Even his name was a persistent reminder of his lack of acceptance. G Callen, the man who didn't know who he was, or where he came from. He was the lone wolf of the pack, his inability to trust often leading him to stray from his team. Needless to say, he had never really felt, nor cared that wasn't really accepted anywhere. He had his team, Sam, Kensi, Eric and on a good day, Deeks, and for him, that was enough.
And perhaps that was why he took an interest in the pixie haircut girl. A single common thread, a small point of overlap that he could relate to. Acceptance.
"Hey Nell," Callen strode confidently into the blue hued Ops center, the sound of shouted curses and Deeks' triumphant laugh silencing as the automatic doors shut behind him. He found the intelligence analyst sitting at her computer pod in the empty room, typing away in silence.
" Is there something I can help you with Agent Callen?" she turned in her swivel chair to face him, a smile covering her face at the sign of company.
" Deeks' is down in the bullpen canoodling all our support staff out of their money with his stupid card game" Callen answered, a ghost of a smile hinting on his face, " Grab your x-ray camera."
So basically this will be a short series of drabbles on the magic that is Nallen, each chapter coinciding with a letter of the alphabet :D