The kiss was for the operation. They needed to look like they belonged on the moonlight beach. Their cover couldn't be blown as they followed a suspect with his fiancée. Or so she told herself.
She deluded herself with the idea that it was all part of the plan. After all they had been told not to compromise their cover by any means necessary.
There was no doubt that they were both good actors. Amazingly talented at disguising themselves as anyone. Anytime. Any place. Which is why she supposed they were handpicked for the mission. However, the problem was when she stared into his eyes then kissed him she wasn't acting. At least not in the fake sense. She was acting out her feelings of the romantic persuasion for him as couples do but it wasn't untrue.
This was going to cause her trouble as she could still feel the way his lips danced with hers. When they came up for air, they could just make out the suspect leaving the beach. No time to talk. Not that there was anything to talk about. This was only for the mission. Only for the op. Only going to cause her insanity.
While trailing him they took careful pictures showing him leaving a certain package for at a certain sailor's po box. They had the evidence. Now to report back to base, finish the paperwork, and get out of there. Not that she ran from her problems. Marines didn't do that. They faced their problems head on. The only problem was the dilemma was in her head. He was it and she didn't know how to remove the memory of his hands in her hair, his lips on hers, and the prickles of his chin hair rubbing against her.
The ride in the car was silent. It was probably a good thing for she was lost in thought. Option one: Ignore the kiss. Move on. Act like the professional you are. Option two: Act awkward around your friend. Option one was winning at this rate. But oh if only there was an alternative.
She handed in her paperwork to Hettie, hung the sun dress she was wearing up, said goodbye to Sam and Nate. Then she walked outside looking around for the man who made her crazy, G Callen.
Part of her wanted to avoid him for she knew nothing good would come of this. Part of her wanted to stay and find out. Walking out of the office she scanned the area for a sign of some sort. It got her no where. So she continued decided to walk to her apartment instead of drive. She needed to clear her head and didn't want to kill anyone if she spaced out.
When she reached her apartment her mind was still cluttered and completely befuddled. She had just settled down on the couch with a cup of iced tea when a knock reached her ears. Sighing she rose really hoping it wasn't Mrs. Johnson who wanted her to make a scrapbook of her cats. She really gave the "crazy cat lady" a run for her money. Peeking through the eyehole she saw it was Callen. Cherry flavored pop tarts with gumdrop buttons this was going to be as awkward as a kid with a lisp giving an oral report.
Opening the door she saw he had changed out of his op clothes into his more casual ones. She always loved the look of jeans on guys but on him it made her mouth go dry.
G Callen looked at his favorite agent, his girl as he called her to Sam, Kenz, took a deep breathe and then said, "Hey."
"Hey G." Kensi said, opening the door wider and moving so he could come in. "What's up?"
Closing the door she turned and stared at him. Of course it was not that hard when there was less than a foot between them. It would take her a second to move over to him and press her lips to his.
Bliss. Euphoria. Rapture. All in one moment. She didn't know who started it, couldn't remember if they spoke all she could think of was that G Callen's lips were incredibly talented. Just like he was. She didn't know where this would go but her lips were urging to find out.