: Not mine. BtVS belongs to Whedon. NCIS belongs to Bellisario.
When Buffy and Willow stepped out the doors from the customs hall at LAX, they were surprised to see a disgruntled looking man holding a sign with their names on it.
“Did you call for a ride, Wills?” Buffy asked curiously.
“Nope, but maybe Dawn did,” Willow suggested. “I mean, she did have to send the cavalry in after us. Still not sure how she knew where to send them, but it was a good save. I’d have thought she would still trust us to navigate LA, though.”
While they’d been talking, the driver had walked over.
“Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg?” he asked, in a tone that said he already knew the answer. “I’ve been sent to bring you to Dawn.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. The ‘driver’ was suspiciously fit for a driver, with the sort of short hair she’d come to associate with the military, even if he was dressed scruffy casual in a way most of the military boys could never quite pull off.
“Where is she that she couldn’t come herself?” she asked. Damned if she was just going to walk off with Mr. Secret Agent Man without trying to figure out what was going on. Especially not on a Tuesday.
“At an undisclosed location,” the driver snapped with a tinge of sarcasm. “Look, do you want to see your sister or don’t you? Cause I have to tell you, right now, the only thing keeping me from walking out of here is the fact that Kensie will make my life a living hell if I show my face at the office without you.”
“Kensie… I’ve heard that name before. Buffy, wasn’t there a Kensie-“
“At mom’s funeral,” Buffy finished. “Yeah. My cousin. She’s my age, but her dad was in the Marines, so she moved around and we didn’t see her that often. What does Kensie have to do with this?”
The last part was directed at their driver, who she realized she was actually following as he started toward the parking garage.
“You sister came busting into our offices yesterday demanding to talk to her and wanting access to satellite imagery, and then Hetty started telling her stories, and it’s been impossible to separate the three of them since. I was sent to pick you up from the airport.”
“Did that make any sense to you, Wills?” Buffy asked.
“I think I got the Kensie connection,” Willow replied, wrinkling her nose. “But I’m not too clear on who the ‘us’ from ‘our offices’ is, or how Hetty’s connected to all this.”
“You know Hetty?” their driver asked, stopping in surprise. Then he smacked his forehead. “Of course you know Hetty. You probably know Rupert Giles, too. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
Buffy grinned mischievously and linked her arm through his as he started to walk again.
“So, you know you’re in trouble right? Want to at least tell us your name so we know what to put on your tombstone? Cause if Dawn, Kens, and Hetty are all conspiring against you, you’re pretty much doomed.”
“I know,” the driver groaned, popping the trunk on a BMW and reaching for Willow’s suitcase. “And it’s Callen.”
“Nice to meet you, Callen,” Willow told him with a grin. “And unless you want to die sooner than whatever Dawn and Hetty are cooking up for you, don’t let Buffy drive.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Callen muttered. “So, am I allowed to ask what was happening in Bolivia?”
“Ask away, but you’re not getting answers until we get to that ‘undisclosed location’,” Buffy replied.