So. It begins. I've always been an SG-1 fanfic writer but...well, NCIS: LA had to happen eventually. What better way then to combine them? Please bear with me, as I am extremely busy and this happens (as in...writing) mostly when my brain hurts too much from homework. This chapter happened because I had some 5-hour energy way too late at night. So, without further ado...(besides the obligitory "I don't own these shows" bit)...

When Callen walked into the office on Monday morning, his faithful partner was attempting to read the newspaper- and obviously failing. His grin and head shake indicated activity at Kensi's desk. "What are you doing?" he addressed his question to the odd pair sitting across the way, elbows on the table, arm-wrestling. Deeks was loosing, from the look on his face.

"What does it look like?" came the reply from the current underdog.

"Stay out of this, Callen!" Kensi put up her other hand, as if to block the chuckle escaping their team leader's lips.

He chuckled anyway. "What'd he do?" he asked Sam.

"Told her there was no way she had a full range of motion in her arms wearing that shirt."

G cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, studying his junior agent's starched button-up shirt. "Looks like she's doing fine to me."

Sam nodded and shook his head again, turning back to his paper.

A shrill whistle interrupted the morning festivities.

Seeing a weakness in her opponent's distraction, Kensi plunged her partner's hand into the top of her desk. She raised both in victory, stood up, and followed the whistle without so much as a word.

"Ow! Kensi! That hurt! Seriously, what did my hand just hit? Is that-is that a tack! Oh man, I think I need to get to a hospital- I could get tetanus! Kensi!"

She turned dramatically from the stairs. "Don't be such a baby, Deeks."

He shook his hand as he followed the rest of the team upstairs. "Seriously, did you guys see that?"

"Good morning, all." Hetty greeted her team from the front of the dimly-blue lit ops center. "This is proving to be an interesting day already. Let me introduce you to an old friend, Dr. Daniel Jackson."

A rather average-looking man in a tweed suit waved awkwardly from Nell's side. G couldn't shake the feeling that this man belonged in front of a freshman history course at a major university. "An old friend from where, Hetty?"

She fixed him with her beady-eyed gaze. "Oh, just an Air Force project in Colorado. It's extremely classified." She smiled at Dr. Jackson grandly. "He's here to brief you."

"Actually, I'm going to have to have you sign this first," he produced a stack of papers from his satchel. "They're non-disclosure agreements. I'm sorry I can't tell you more beforehand, but this is a very, very highly classified project. Ms. Lange only knows about it because we needed information from her a couple of years ago. That, and the General trusts her."

G flipped through the pages of the stack he had been handed and clicked his pen to sign. "What do we have to do with the Air Force?"

"Well, actually, we have Marines on base. Technically it's an Air Force project, but it's a Marine that brings me here." Seeing that the agreements were all signed and being handed into a nice piled on the table, he nodded to Eric, who brought up several pictures of a crime scene. The Marine in the picture had obviously been beaten severely and stuffed into what looked like a storage closet in a bunker. "This is Col. Brian Williams, USMC, and old friend. Despite our different callings in life, we both shared an interest in language and culture- he was the C.O. of a new joint-nation team- we've been trying to include the Russians in our little project for years now unsuccessfully, and now we had a chance. Brian was fluent in Russian, and actually grew up in Moscow, where his father ran tours for an American travel agency. He was a great Marine and a good friend."

Jackson's gaze drifted to his shoes as he crossed his arms and pushed up his glasses, somehow simultaneously.

"So, why are we on this case?" G asked his boss, trying not to be too insensitive to the obviously grieving man at the head of the briefing.

"Because, Mr. Callen, the suspects are Russian military! This is not a simple murder- an American Marine was murdered inside a tightly-locked up base and the primary suspects are foreign military personnel! Why wouldn't we be on the case?"

He nodded and addressed Jackson, "We're going to have to know the details. What was he working on? The teams you've mentioned, what do they do? And who are your suspects?"

Dr. Jackson nodded. "I'm going to have to start at the beginning and just explain the program as quickly as I can. That's why I had you sign the agreement- we're going on site, and I need to know you will keep this under wraps. National security, and all."

Callen nodded. "We got a flight to catch?"

Jackson smiled. "In a matter of speaking." He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket, "Ready, Sam?"

They all listened as a woman's voice crackled back, "We're in position now. I'll wait for your signal."

Jackson handed them each a wrist-band. "Just hold on to this and don't freak out. I'll warn you, this is going to be quite a trip, but you won't believe me if we don't do it this way."

Callen looked at Sam and Deeks looked at Kensi. They took the wristbands and began strapping them on, looking expectantly at Hetty. She looked back, unperturbed. "I will be remaining here, with Mr. Beale and Miss Jones, of course. Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Actually, Ms. Lange, we've improved things since you visited- and I'd like to take your techs with us for the initial briefing, if I might. I don't want to have to explain this twice." Jackson pleaded, extending wristbands to the techs in question. Eric and Nell waited on Hetty's nod to take them. She looked thoughtfully at Dr. Jackson, then said, "Certainly. But please send them back down when you can. Mr. Beale, do what you can to link our ops center to their own, will you? Thank you."

Dr. Jackson handed her a wristband, which she waved off. "I will still remain here, Dr. Jackson. Someone has to keep the fort. You may send me the video of their reactions later."

He smiled gently. "I'll do what I can, but the General is pretty picky about information leaving the base." She nodded and waved at the group of them. "Away with you!"

Jackson spoke into the walkie-talkie again. "Alright Sam. We're ready in three, two…"

A blinding light enveloped the team, and they disappeared, leaving Hetty quite alone. She grunted and walked out the swishing automatic doors. "I think I'll have some tea while it's quiet here," she muttered to herself.