Chapter Text
Callen wouldn't readily admit it but he really did enjoy it when Hetty reminisced about the "old days" as he liked to tease her about. It was always interesting to hear about the things Hetty got up to as a mere Agent. Had Hetty ever been a mere Agent? Doubtful but even she had to work her way up the ranks. There was always something weird and wonderful involved in her stories like a runaway yak or having to traverse powerlines in some Soviet country before they got turned back on for the day. Oh and then there was that whole incident with a crate of rubber, matches, twelve bottles and a Romanian dictator. That one was always a good story. He would have to get her to tell that one at a team dinner at some point. It always seemed to be things that would put even what his team currently got up to to shame which was impressive.
Of course, it wouldn't do for him to admit to any sort of sentimentality or anything like that, he was supposed to be a lone wolf, not reliant or really trusting of anyone. Except he did trust people. His team. Though he was somewhat loathe to rely on them at times (he was learning though, the team and Hetty were making sure of that and here was only so much you could withstand those combined forces), he had Hetty. He'd had to learn to rely on Hetty. Not thar he had had a lot of choice there. You never had much choice when it came to Hetty. He always wondering just how far in advance she planned because she never seemed surprised at what was going on. Or was it that she just had a really good poker face? He wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be clairvoyant or something. That would be something Hetty was capable of.
Speaking of him and Hetty, the two of them were discussing the fact that certain methods that had to be employed in order to keep yourself and the operation safe. How they'd got onto this topic, he wasn't entirely sure. Hetty had been reminiscing about something outrageous she'd done and it kind of led on from there. He believed that there had been a brief discussion on the uses olive oil could have when handling certain weapons. He wasn't sure how they had come to that particular topic either but whatever.
Hetty was now telling him about a time where she and her team had to fake their own deaths in order to preserve the operation. Hard to pull off well but a doable task. Certainly not the most outrageous thing any of them had done. In fact, he found himself nodding along as she explained her team's decisions leading up to it. Yep, it was all very logical.
"We had to kill ourselves off to keep them off the trail," Hetty explained.
"And it worked, right?" Callen said, knowing that that particualr tactic was made either out of desperation or planned from the start if literally nothing else would work and sounded like both those points were at play here. "You got what you needed?"
"It was only after we died that we truly lived. Or, lived on, rather."
"Gonna have that cross stitched on a cushion or something?" Callen joked.
"Actually, I was thinking more of having it as a wall hanging, far more fetching to the eye."
"Of course, I apologise."
There was a pleasant sort of silence as Hetty sipped her tea and Callen looked suspiciously at his own cup. Look, there was one tea that Hetty had managed to get him to like. One. And this was not it. But for some reason since he had come to like one, Hetty had taken that to mean that she could teach him to like others. He wasn't so convinced, hence the suspicious look at his own cup.
"But yes, I believe there is a mayor in a small town in Croatia that believes me to be dead."
"Well, I doubt that that will ever become a problem."
"You never know, Mr Callen. Especially in our line of work."
She did have a point there. Weird things from their past popped up all the time. At an alarming amount if he thought about it.
"Do you think that I could get away with pretending to be dead?" He wondered.
"Barely anyome knows you exist as it is," she said somewhat disapprovingly.
He shrugged. "Better that way."
"Hmm."
He really hoped that this wasnt going to launch into a discussion about his dating life again. Sure you could talk to Hetty about pretty much anything; from your health, your past to languages you were learning but his dating life? No, that was too weird. That was absolutely where he was drawing the line. She knew that at she still pressed him when there was an opening. Like this conversation.
"It is," he felt like he had to defend himself.
"People will always need people, Mr Callen."
"I have people," he said defensively.
Sure, he could count those people on two hands (hey, it was a whole hand more than he was used to) but still, they were people!
"You do," she agreed. "People who would be extremely displeased if you decided to pretend to be dead," she added sternly.
"Pretty sure Sam would be frantic."
"And that is something I do not wish to deal with. Mr Hanna tends to break things whenever he is frantic and I do not need more messes to clean up than is strictly necessary."
"That and it would be expensive."
"I also dislike wasting money," she agreed.
"If I fake my own death I promise I'll tell Sam."
"Ensure that you do, please."
"Kensi and Deeks would probably be able to figure it out before breaking anything," he added. "Eventually."
Sam would also be able to figure it out himself but he would be destructive and obnoxious first so it would just be better to keep him in the loop.
"I am sure you would give Mr Beale and Miss Jones quite the headache also."
Would he be able to hide himself from the sharp and prying eyes that were tbe meerkats? Probably. He knew how their minds worked. Though there were a terrifying amount of cameras in LA these days. Made it harder to disappear. Not impossible, though.
"Why does it feel like you have already planned for this possibility?" She asked, eyebrow raised.
He shrugged. "You were the one who taught me about how important it was to be prepared for any eventuality."
