Thanks for all the support, everybody. I definitely hope I can do this story justice. Thanks for reading!

-I-

"No!" The scream ripped from Kensi's throat before she could stop it, and she bolted upright in bed, bathed in sweat. Her heart was racing, and she could feel the blood pounding in her ears.

The sleepy figure next to her shifted slightly. "Are you okay, baby?" he whispered groggily.

Kensi didn't answer for a moment, as she tried to let her breathing return to normal. She felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind, and she leaned back against his chest. "Yes," she finally answered.

He kissed her neck softly and ran his hands up and down her arms. "You're shaking," he said worriedly.

"I—I had a nightmare," Kensi explained. "But I'm fine now."

"Kensi, these nightmares have been going on for a while…"

"I know," she said. "I'm fine. Really."

He studied her for a moment, but didn't say anything more. He kissed her temple and then gently eased her back against the pillows. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled the blankets over them.

Kensi buried her face in his chest, hiding the fear in her eyes from him. The nightmare had been so real, so vivid. Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers over the unblemished, bronzed skin of his chest, the smooth, perfect muscles rippling underneath her touch. It didn't seem to calm her nerves, though, as she knew it wasn't him. No, the man in her nightmare was clearly scarred with five ugly gunshot wounds. And he lay on the ground, broken and bleeding, his eyes sunken in pain…and his cry of death echoing against the walls.

Kensi slept restlessly for the remainder of the night, and when she awoke, she was surprised to find the bed empty beside her. The light of dawn was just barely starting to creep in the window, so she didn't know where he could have gone so early.

"Javier?" she called.

"Right here, sweetheart," his voice came from the other room. He entered the bedroom, carrying a tray of Belgian waffles with fresh strawberries and cream, with one red rose as a centerpiece.

"I know you hate flowers," he said, "but this is a special occasion."

Kensi raised an eyebrow. "What's the occasion?" she asked bluntly.

He set the tray down on the nightstand and settled on the bed next to her. "The occasion is … I'm in love with you."

Javier took her hand and squeezed it gently. He drew her close for a tender kiss, and then he whispered, "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

He pulled a small black jewelry box out of his pocket. Kensi gasped.

Javier opened the box and held it out to her. The diamond shimmered in the morning sunlight. And in a quiet whisper, he asked, "Kensi, ever since you came back into my life, all of my feelings for you have returned. I love you, and I always have…will you marry me?"

Kensi's mouth fell open in shock. She glanced back and forth from the jewelry box to Javier's eyes, unsure of what to say. She saw such hope in his eyes, such love for her, and it made her heart pound uncontrollably.

"Yes," she answered softly.

Javier smiled. He slipped the diamond onto her left ring finger and kissed her hand. "I love you," he repeated softly, moving his lips to cover hers. "I never stopped loving you. And I want you by my side forever, as my beautiful wife."

Gently, he pushed her back against the pillows, tugging at her camisole and fully intending to start the honeymoon early. But his romantic intentions were rudely interrupted as Kensi's cell phone rang.

"Don't answer it," Javier whispered, his lips moving down her neck.

Kensi laughed softly and wiggled out of his grasp. She picked up her phone. "Kensi."

"He's after me!" came the strangled cry over the phone. "Please, Agent Blye, ayúdame!"

Kensi quickly pushed Javier away and sat up. "Miguel? Where are you?"

The voice on the other end was huffing and puffing. "I…I can't talk...he's coming for me!"

"Miguel!" Kensi heard multiple bursts of rapid gunfire and then the roar of a car and then…

Silence.

It was a quiet, peaceful morning at the NCIS Office of Special Projects in Los Angeles, California. Nate sat in the empty chair next to Callen's desk, reveling in the silence and absently stirring his cup of coffee when he suddenly heard some loud squabbling coming from down the hall. Sam and Callen are at it again, he thought.

"Do you even look at the clock?" Sam asked in a clearly annoyed tone.

"No," Callen admitted.

"Could you try doing that some time?"

The two men entered the bullpen, and Nate rolled his eyes. Sam and Callen always gave each other a hard time, but lately it seemed like they had been at each other's throats more than usual. "What are you two arguing about now?" Nate asked.

"Nothing," Callen replied.

"Something's wrong with G," Sam said.

"Me? You're the one carrying on about the clock."

"He tells me he's gonna pick me up at nine," Sam explained. "Then he shows up at eight thirty."

"First you complain that I'm always late," Callen argued, "Now you complain that I'm too early." He shot his partner a nasty glare.

"Plus he's grumpier than usual," Sam told Nate.

"Well, then, this isn't gonna cheer you up," Eric called from above.

The three of them looked up. Eric pointed towards the ops room.

Nate sighed and headed for the stairs, while Sam and Callen lagged behind. Sam was still giving his partner a suspicious eye.

"I'm fine," Callen insisted.

Sam gave him a skeptical look, and Callen returned it with an annoyed one.

"I just…haven't been sleeping all that well."

"You never sleep all that well," Sam pointed out.

"Sam, I'm fine. The case, please."

The expression on Sam's face was still doubtful, but he didn't push any further, and he obediently headed up the stairs to the ops room.

Callen moved to follow but turned to take a quick look down at the bullpen. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw her silhouette next to his desk, but her ghost immediately faded before his eyes. He could not deny that the nightmares were getting worse. Every night, she died in his arms, her blood seeping through his clothes and staining his hands. The flames from the fire engulfed her, and he could never get there in time. He could never save her…

Callen shook his head as if to clear his mind, and then he quickly turned and continued up the stairs.

"Miguel de Santiago," Eric announced. "Former U.S. Marine sergeant shot late last night in an alley downtown." Eric clicked a few buttons, and the video popped up on the screen. "Security cameras caught him walking outside on the street talking on his cell phone..."

"He's looking around," Nate observed. "Not walking in a straight line, keeps checking over his shoulder. He knows he's being followed."

The man on screen slipped into a dark alley between two tall buildings, mumbling something incoherent on his phone and glancing around worriedly. Out of nowhere, a black car with dark tinted windows sped into the alley after him, and even the NCIS team flinched as the gunshots violently riddled his body. He crumpled to the ground, and the car disappeared out of sight.

"No plates," Sam muttered. "Eric, can you find it on any other traffic cams?"

Eric sighed. "I tried. Nothing. It's like a ghost car."

"Trace the guy's cell phone?" Sam asked. "Who was he talking to?"

"Tried that, too. The signal is blocked." Eric fiddled with some buttons on his keyboard. "I can't get through. It's blocked by...NCIS?"

Sam gave him a look. "You're blocking his cell phone?"

"It's not me," Eric said innocently. He clicked some more buttons. "There's got to be something…why would we block this guy's cell phone?"

"And his military records," Nate added from the other side of the room. He had just tried to pull up Miguel's profile, and he had run into the same problem. "Access denied," he muttered in disbelief. "All I can see is that he was recently released from prison and went back to Spain." Nate looked up, slightly puzzled. "So what is he doing in Los Angeles?"

Callen had been oddly quiet, and he was studying the screen with his eyes narrowed. "Running," he finally said.

"From what?" Sam asked.

Callen nodded. "Let's go find out." He turned to Nate and Eric. "You two, dig deeper…find out who this guy is. Eric, get me those cell phone records." Callen turned sharply towards the door and almost tripped over a little lady who had come up behind him.

Hetty held up her hands in a defensive stopping motion. "Be careful, Mr. Callen," she warned.

She gave him a funny look, and Callen raised an eyebrow. He seemed to know that she meant more than just watching where he was going. But he must have investigated thousands of crime scenes that Nate had analyzed at a much higher risk level...why was Hetty choosing this one to caution him? He didn't think much of it, though, and he headed for the door. "I'm always careful," he called over his shoulder.

Nate waited until Callen and Sam had left, and then he turned to Hetty. "You're worried about him," he said. It was a statement rather than a question.

Hetty nodded.

"More than usual."

Hetty nodded again solemnly. "This one gives me a very bad feeling..."

On their way to the crime scene, Callen and Sam assumed their usual positions in Sam's sleek black Challenger. However, as Callen stared out the passenger side's window, he remained unusually quiet, and finally Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"All right, what's really going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"G, I'm your partner. I know when something is up with you."

"Then you also know that I'm not gonna talk about it."

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled up to the side of the curb. "G..."

But Callen was already out of the car. "We're here," he announced. "This conversation is over."

Sam and Callen quickly made their way towards the commotion. They could see the lights from LAPD squad cars still flashing, and yellow crime scene tape outlined the entire alley. The entrance was guarded by a young woman in a dark blue LAPD uniform. She looked at the new arrivals warily as Callen and Sam approached her.

"NCIS," Callen said, flashing his badge.

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't let you through," she said meekly.

"We're NCIS," Callen argued.

"NCIS is already here," she explained.

Callen gave Sam a puzzled look. Then he shrugged and started to push his way past the young woman. "NCIS is already here?" he repeated. "Whose team?" he muttered as an afterthought, not expecting any response.

"Mine."

That voice stopped Callen in his tracks. He whirled around and found himself staring into two captivating, multicolored eyes that he never thought he would see again.