"Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart," Callen teased, smirking at her over his shoulder. It was nice, having her in his flat. It felt easy, felt normal. Felt right.
"Well, I'm glad he has a good home," Morag said, rising fluidly from her crouched position and dusting her hands on her shorts. "Cal, I just needed to get that Moreau book on Turkish runes. I'm working on a paper, and--"
"Not interested," Callen interrupted, holding up a hand. "It's on the shelf over there." At Morag's vaguely miffed expression, he just chuckled and sauntered back into the kitchen.