A Secret Safe - NCIS: LA - G
Title: A Secret Safe...
Author: anamuan
Fandom/Pairing: NCIS: LA / Hanna/Callen (is there a namesquish for this?)
Rating: PG G. Such a G fic.
Word Count: 722
Warnings: Some spoilers for ep 15: The Bank Job. Horrible pun for a title.
"What else?" G presses, after Sam lists the contents--or most of the contents, anyway--of his hidden safe.
"What do you mean, 'What else?'?"
"That was way too easy." Sam laughs at G's response. "And that's your 'I'm hiding something' laugh." Sam stops laughing.
Sam throws out the Michael Jackson glove as a decoy. He'd kept the information back on purpose, because he knew he'd need it. G can always tell when he's dodging. The glove is real, and is actually in Sam's safe--but it's also just ridiculous enough a prized possession (in G's opinion, not Sam's), that he'll catch on it, and hopefully, not realize that the list still wasn't exactly complete.
G's not really a hoarder, see. He moved around too much as a kid, bouncing between foster homes, to build that habit. Physical objects, they get lost, or broken, or taken from you. Left behind accidentally. Stolen. Physical objects don't last, so you can't keep your precious memories stored in them. He keeps everything in his head. He doesn't keep stuff.
Sure enough, G does.
"One of those white gloves?" he asks. Then follows up with, "The one with the sequins?" He keeps coming back to it all day, throughout the entirety of their latest case. One of the things that makes G a good cop is his persistence. That's also one of the things that makes G a god damn annoying partner.
By the end of the day, G drops the glove thing in favour of the Lakers tickets. Either way, he's dropped the idea of what else may or may not be in Sam's safe. Nothing like a tatty old T-shirt of G's he was planning on throwing away. It's stretched thin, and spattered with paint spots from the third-to-last time G moved and decided lime green walls weren't actually something he could live with. There are a bunch of tiny but jagged holes along the hem where G had a run in with a thorn bush during a run, and there is no way the shirt would ever, ever fit Sam, so he has even less reason for it coming into his possession than it would otherwise.
It also happened to be Sam's favourite shirt on G for at least four years, and just because G decided that it had seen its best days and he could get a new shirt to serve the same functions didn't mean Sam was really ok with it finding its way onto a scrap heap somewhere. And so the retired tee found its way to the inside of Sam's safe, folded neatly underneath the signed football. If pressed on the issue, Sam would be forced to admit that he might trade the sequins for the old t-shirt if it came down to it, but since G doesn't know about the tee, Sam won't have to.
The case ends well, and with a little bit of help from the LAPD, with satisfyingly little genuine bloodshed. To celebrate, they pounce on Hetty when she gets back to her office, working in concert to get just a little bit more of her enigmatic past out of her. It's not really that she's unwilling to talk about her life, so much as it's necessary to ask the right questions. They really do make a good team.
They leave Hetty's office together, steps matching up companionably as they start for the door. "So, uh, I have this safe at home," Sam says.
"GSA class 6. That's fireproof, under the fake floor boards in the den," G replies. That memory is another reason he makes such a good investigator.
"Yeah. Keep a few things under lock and key. Like tickets to the Lakers/Knicks game tonight." Sam says it casually, but he knows G will pick up on the significance of the statement.
G looks at him in surprise. "I thought those were spoken for."
"I wanted to see how you handled the Michael Jackson glove situation," Sam tells him.
"With the sequins."
"Yeah," confirms Sam.
"And?" G queries.
Sam claps him once on the back. "And I am cutting you a break. Again." Like he'd ever had any intention of taking anyone else.
"I like you cutting me a break."
"Be nice and I'll even let you wear the glove."
"Gonna take a pass on that one..."
Author: anamuan
Fandom/Pairing: NCIS: LA / Hanna/Callen (is there a namesquish for this?)
Rating: PG G. Such a G fic.
Word Count: 722
Warnings: Some spoilers for ep 15: The Bank Job. Horrible pun for a title.
"What else?" G presses, after Sam lists the contents--or most of the contents, anyway--of his hidden safe.
"What do you mean, 'What else?'?"
"That was way too easy." Sam laughs at G's response. "And that's your 'I'm hiding something' laugh." Sam stops laughing.
Sam throws out the Michael Jackson glove as a decoy. He'd kept the information back on purpose, because he knew he'd need it. G can always tell when he's dodging. The glove is real, and is actually in Sam's safe--but it's also just ridiculous enough a prized possession (in G's opinion, not Sam's), that he'll catch on it, and hopefully, not realize that the list still wasn't exactly complete.
G's not really a hoarder, see. He moved around too much as a kid, bouncing between foster homes, to build that habit. Physical objects, they get lost, or broken, or taken from you. Left behind accidentally. Stolen. Physical objects don't last, so you can't keep your precious memories stored in them. He keeps everything in his head. He doesn't keep stuff.
Sure enough, G does.
"One of those white gloves?" he asks. Then follows up with, "The one with the sequins?" He keeps coming back to it all day, throughout the entirety of their latest case. One of the things that makes G a good cop is his persistence. That's also one of the things that makes G a god damn annoying partner.
By the end of the day, G drops the glove thing in favour of the Lakers tickets. Either way, he's dropped the idea of what else may or may not be in Sam's safe. Nothing like a tatty old T-shirt of G's he was planning on throwing away. It's stretched thin, and spattered with paint spots from the third-to-last time G moved and decided lime green walls weren't actually something he could live with. There are a bunch of tiny but jagged holes along the hem where G had a run in with a thorn bush during a run, and there is no way the shirt would ever, ever fit Sam, so he has even less reason for it coming into his possession than it would otherwise.
It also happened to be Sam's favourite shirt on G for at least four years, and just because G decided that it had seen its best days and he could get a new shirt to serve the same functions didn't mean Sam was really ok with it finding its way onto a scrap heap somewhere. And so the retired tee found its way to the inside of Sam's safe, folded neatly underneath the signed football. If pressed on the issue, Sam would be forced to admit that he might trade the sequins for the old t-shirt if it came down to it, but since G doesn't know about the tee, Sam won't have to.
The case ends well, and with a little bit of help from the LAPD, with satisfyingly little genuine bloodshed. To celebrate, they pounce on Hetty when she gets back to her office, working in concert to get just a little bit more of her enigmatic past out of her. It's not really that she's unwilling to talk about her life, so much as it's necessary to ask the right questions. They really do make a good team.
They leave Hetty's office together, steps matching up companionably as they start for the door. "So, uh, I have this safe at home," Sam says.
"GSA class 6. That's fireproof, under the fake floor boards in the den," G replies. That memory is another reason he makes such a good investigator.
"Yeah. Keep a few things under lock and key. Like tickets to the Lakers/Knicks game tonight." Sam says it casually, but he knows G will pick up on the significance of the statement.
G looks at him in surprise. "I thought those were spoken for."
"I wanted to see how you handled the Michael Jackson glove situation," Sam tells him.
"With the sequins."
"Yeah," confirms Sam.
"And?" G queries.
Sam claps him once on the back. "And I am cutting you a break. Again." Like he'd ever had any intention of taking anyone else.
"I like you cutting me a break."
"Be nice and I'll even let you wear the glove."
"Gonna take a pass on that one..."