Hello there! It's been a while! I've had a lot of Callen/Kensi ideas floating around in my head, but I just haven't had much time to write them down. So I'm going to attempt to do that now. I don't think this story will be nearly as long or as involved as my other ones...I guess you could call it more of a random collection of short, semi-related Callen/Kensi scenes. I hope you still like it, though, and please do leave a review if you have a minute. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
-I-
An old-fashioned clock sitting atop a Los Angeles skyscraper struck midnight as two figures hurried down a dark alley across the street. The city lights illuminated much of the area around them, but somehow they both managed to stay hidden in the shadows, their footsteps almost silent as they crept along the empty passage. At the end of the alley, they came upon a back door that didn't appear to have been used in some time. The male figure easily jimmied the lock and motioned inside.
"Where are we going?" the other figure, clearly female, asked worriedly. "Are you sure we should be here?"
"Of course," he whispered. "I've been here before. It's not a five-star hotel, but it's perfectly safe." He smiled reassuringly. "And it's empty, and quiet, and it's late at night..." He took a step inside, leading his girlfriend by the hand and closing the door behind them. "We're all alone, baby…what better way to celebrate our one month anniversary?"
"Mmmm, I like your style," she murmured. She gasped as he pulled her tightly against him, capturing her lips in a steamy kiss. His lips traveled down her neck, and she closed her eyes as he slowly, seductively kissed his way back up alongside her ear. His hands slipped under the hem of her blouse, brushing the silky skin underneath, and just as he was about to proceed with removing her clothes completely...
"Michael Cameron!"
"Wha—?" The lights in the room flashed just once, and Michael whirled around, momentarily blinded by the brightness. He recovered quickly, though, as the room receded into darkness again, and he moved in front of his girlfriend to protect her from the intruder. He whipped out a gun from his belt and pushed her further behind him. "Stay back, baby."
"Mr. Cameron, we got a little score to settle."
"Yeah? Who are you?"
"Somebody you don't want to mess with."
Michael heard his girlfriend scream as she saw the dark silhouette take a step forward in the shadows. Frightened, she stumbled backwards, and her second scream was muffled as she felt a hand clamp down over her mouth from behind. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms against her sides and yanking her out of Michael's reach.
"If you want to keep this pretty little thing alive, I'd recommend putting the gun down."
Michael spun around at the sound of a second voice, squinting to see his girlfriend's attacker in the dark. But he could only see her eyes wide with fear and the shiny barrel of a gun pressed hard against her throat.
"So Mr. Cameron," came the first voice impatiently. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. My buddy there has got your girl. What's it gonna be?"
Michael actually seemed to ponder the question for a moment. His fingers twitched nervously on the trigger of his weapon, and he glanced over at his girlfriend. An uneasy silence fell over the room, and time almost seemed to come to a standstill.
And then he turned and fled.
The second man released his grip on the girl and let out an exasperated sigh. "Told you he'd run," he grumbled.
"I know, I know, I hate when they run," the other voice said.
Both men turned to the girl. "You okay?" the one who had held her captive asked.
"Yeah," she muttered, dusting herself off. She looked down the corridor where Michael had disappeared. "Men always run," she said bitterly. "Especially on the special occasions."
He shrugged. "Would have thought you'd be used to it by now."
She glared at him. "You're real funny," she snapped.
"What's the occasion?" the other man asked.
"One month anniversary," she explained.
He grinned. "Guess that means you made it to a second date."
"Are you two finished?" the other one asked impatiently. "Could we get on with this?"
Both of them nodded in response.
"Let's do it."
Michael knew that the interior design of this particular building featured a complicated labyrinth of empty rooms and corridors. It was private and perfect for a romantic encounter with his girlfriend, but not quite as accommodating for an easy escape. Grateful that he was somewhat familiar with the layout, Michael darted in and out of the hallways in a zigzag pattern, running swiftly but silently, trying to keep his composure.
At last, he slowed his steps and leaned against a wall to catch his breath. Thinking that he had put enough distance between himself and these two strange men, he wiped the sweat from his brow and gulped a fresh supply of oxygen into his burning lungs.
He didn't know who they were or what they wanted. He somewhat regretted leaving his girlfriend in their hands, but he quickly brushed off the feeling. She was probably as good as dead...those men didn't look like they would leave any loose ends. And after all, her death had been his ultimate goal anyway.
Michael couldn't help but let out a low, evil laugh at that thought. But the laugh immediately died in his throat when he heard a gun cock behind him and a soft, sinister voice in his ear. "Drop your weapon."
Michael froze. He could feel his heart pounding as the gun just barely grazed the back of his neck. He took a deep breath, spun around, and forcefully struck the weapon with the heel of his hand. The redirection of his assailant's aim gave him just enough time to flee down the corridor, barely a split second ahead of the bullets that were fired after him.
He cringed as a shot ricocheted off the wall above his head, and he could hear the furious footsteps in pursuit. Quickly, he turned his head to glance behind him, and in that fleeting moment of distraction, the second man launched himself out of a side corridor, tackling Michael to the ground.
"Stay down! Don't move!"
Michael groaned as he fell hard on his side, and he felt his arms pinned tightly against the floor. But he was not about to surrender without a fight. Gritting his teeth, he flipped himself over and lunged for his attacker's throat. He received a fist to the jaw in return, and with a burst of adrenaline from the pain, he landed a satisfying punch to the other man's stomach.
But just as that man faltered slightly, the other one stepped in. Michael was already breathing heavily with exertion, and he could taste the blood on his split, swollen lip. Two against one was almost certainly a lost battle. As he was violently wrestled to the ground, Michael realized that these two men were skilled fighters. They were extremely sharp and completely in sync with each other. They worked together sort of like...
"Cops!" he hissed under his breath.
"We're not cops," came the gruff response.
"Oh, yeah?" Michael challenged. "Then who are you?"
The bigger, more muscled figure twisted Michael's arms behind his back, causing him to yelp in pain. "Special Agent Hanna."
The other man let one more stinging punch connect squarely with Michael's jaw before he answered. "Special Agent Callen."
Michael shrugged and pretended to yawn, trying not to wince at the sharp throbbing in his mouth. "Not impressed," he said.
"Yeah? How's this for impressive?"
The two men roughly hauled him to his feet again and spun him around to meet a third figure. As he stared down the barrel of a gun wielded by his girlfriend, Michael could not contain his surprise. "Baby—" he whispered.
"Special Agent Blye," she spat. "NCIS. Get down on the ground and don't move."
"You set me up," he said accusingly.
"Yeah, we did...you got a problem with that?"
Michael started to lean forward, as if to drop to his knees, but then his lips curved into a wicked grin. With a mighty roar of anger and frustration, he wrenched his arms free and delivered a nasty elbow strike to both Sam and Callen's faces. He yanked his gun from its holster, aiming it directly at Callen's head.
But he never had the chance to fire.
A rapid round of bullets slammed into Michael's heart, and he fell backwards, convulsing violently and sputtering in agony, as thick pools of his blood spilled onto the floor. His face turned ghostly pale, his eyes glazed over, and with one last choking breath, his body finally became still. A narrow stream of blood trickled out from the corner of his mouth.
Callen saw the hot smoke sizzling from Kensi's weapon, and his eyes met hers in silent thanks. There was something about the way he looked at her in that moment, and Kensi could feel herself uncharacteristically blushing under his gaze. She quickly turned away and knelt to examine the lifeless body. She laid her fingers against Michael's neck to check his pulse and almost involuntarily shuddered.
"One more down," she said.
"And who knows how many left," Callen muttered.
"Ringleader's not gonna be happy when he finds out his right hand man is dead." Sam looked down at the bloody body of Michael Cameron. "Thought he was gonna take you out, G," he admitted. Then he grinned at Kensi. "Luckily his 'girlfriend' had a little anniversary surprise for him."
"Bullet through the heart." Callen smiled and nodded at Kensi approvingly. "That's our girl."