Disclaimer: I don't own CBS or any of the characters and I mean no disrespect to the Network, the show, or its writers.

This takes place shortly after "Brimstone," so there are spoilers. Sorry!

I seem to be writing these Sam\Kensi stories in a series, from "Alarmed" to "Collateral Damage" to "Only If You Tell Me To." You don't have to read all of them first--but I kind of hope you will . . .

Here's part one of my first try at a holiday story. Please tell me if you'd like to read more.

***

From his comfortable position on the bed, Sam watched Kensi move around the room. He thought she was even more beautiful in one of his old t-shirts, toothbrush stuck in her mouth as she rummaged in a bureau drawer, than in the fancy lingerie she wore for him more often than a man had a right to hope. He'd never tell her that, though--he still liked the lingerie.

As she disappeared into the bathroom to get rid of the toothbrush, he wondered how many men had seen her like this, natural, relaxed, open. And that led to another question . . . one he wasn't sure he had the right to ask . . .

She reappeared, looking like a teenager in the shirt that hung almost to her knees, and climbed into bed, yawning hugely and cuddling into his side. He put his arm around her and yawned in sympathy. It was late and the excellent Scotch they'd shared with Hetty and Callen tonight had been generously shared. Sam didn't mind at all that they were too tired for anything but sleeping, not if he could hold her in his arms all night. A different kind of making love, he thought.

"What a case," said Kensi. "A real emotional rollercoaster for everyone."

"Yeah," he said. "You all right?"

"Fine. Glad to be home." She tilted her head for a kiss and he obliged. She made a happy noise, kissed him again, and snuggled back down.

"Kensi? Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," she said, through another yawn.

"Was it true, what you told Hastings King?" he asked. "About your fiancé?"

She moved to prop her chin on his bare chest and looked at him. "Yes and no," she said. "I did have a Marine fiancé and he was sent overseas, but he's still alive, as far as I know." Her tone made it clear that she didn't much care.

"And you don't want to talk about it."

She moved her shoulders. "There's not much to say, except it's never a good idea to see someone just because your Dad approves of him."

"You're saying your Dad wouldn't have approved of me?"

"No, I'm saying that isn't the only reason I'm with you." She reached over and patted his cheek. "Aside from the fact that you're sleeping with his daughter, Dad would like you just fine."

"You sure? I'm not a Marine."

"Yeah, but I've always had a thing for SEALs."

"Really?"

"Yep. Slept with one for years."

"Oh, yeah? Your Dad know about that?"

"Sure. He introduced us." She grinned. "His name was Sergeant Chubbikins."

He raised an eyebrow. "Sergeant Chubbikins?"

"Hey, I was five."

"That's a relief." He rolled over, set the alarm, snapped off the lamp, and rolled back. She settled onto his shoulder. "Christmas party tomorrow," he said. "Unless someone gets himself killed or kidnapped."

"I know. I'm wearing that red dress you like."

He smiled. "Is that my present?"

"No. Your present is what I won't be wearing under it."

His eyes widened. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Then you'll have to save me a dance. In fact, save all the dances for me. Please," he added. "For the sake of my blood pressure."

"That won't look suspicious or anything."

"Okay . . . one dance with everyone. Except maybe Callen. Thank God Renko's in New Mexico." When she didn't laugh, or punch him, he looked down to see if she'd fallen asleep.

She was still awake. And frowning.

"Kensi?" He tried to guess what was bothering her. "You did good today," he tried.

"King wouldn't believe me about Olin. I lied to him before, so he wouldn't believe me."

"You delayed Olin until we got there, and you took him down without killing him or blowing us to kingdom come" He kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl."

She sighed and sat up. "Sam . . . "

He held up his hands in self-defense. "Sorry--that's my woman? Lover? Junior Field Agent?"

She shook her head and looked at him with worried eyes. "Sam . . . I don't know if I can handle all the deception anymore."

He sat up, too, leaning against the headboard. "You do what you have to, Kens. If lying to good people saves lives, then—"

"No, I'm good with that—most of the time I'm good with that," she said. "I'm not talking about lying on the job. Just . . . at work."

"About us," he said, finally understanding.

"About us." She sighed. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? I mean, I know you've met my friends, and I've met yours. But we're still lying to the team . . . "

He reached for her and drew her back to lean against him. "You realize we're the worst kept secret in the OPS," he said. "Callen can keep his mouth shut--when he wants to--but you know Renko can't. And a little bird told me that Eric won $50 off Nate in the "are they or aren't they" sweepstakes."

"A little bird?" She stiffened. "Sweepstakes?"

"Dom. He won $25. He also asked me to tell you that he has the upmost respect for you as someone who could break every bone in his body twice even without the battering ram in your trunk." He chuckled. "In apology, he made you a copy of the video of Nate trying to explain why an expert in psychological analysis, with full dossiers on both of us, didn't have a clue."

She snorted, and he felt her relax, though not completely. "Hetty knows," she said.

"Odds are she does."

"But we're still an . . . official secret," she said. "Don't ask, don't tell."

"Not quite," he said. He waited for her to say something, but she didn't. "Are you that unhappy, Kensi?"

She shook her head, her soft hair rubbing against his chest. "No. Yes--I'm not unhappy with us. I love you--so much. And I know you love me." She laced her fingers through his and squeezed. "But I can't come near you at work without worrying if I'm being too obvious, I can't hand you a file without making sure your fingers don't brush mine . . . I can't even bring you a coffee when I know you're tired." She sighed. "Being with you is worth it, but it's tough, sometimes, you know?"

"You love me," he said, closing his eyes and smiling

"You know I do."

"Yeah. But I like hearing it."

"I like saying it." She sighed. "I wish I could say it more often."

"Me, too." He hesitated. "Maybe for Christmas."

"Sure," she said. "Maybe for Christmas."

He leaned over and she met him halfway. "I love you, Kensi," he said, and made absolutely sure she knew that he meant every word.

***

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