Kensi realized that she had only lost consciousness for a moment or two as she came to and the man was attempting to open the car door and lift her in simultaneously. Well, she wasn't going to make this easy and with that she made her body dead weight before throwing herself forward. That was all it took to throw the man backward.

"Bitch!" he hissed as he toppled to the ground.

The man in the driver's seat of the van realized what was going on and started to get out of the car. Distracted by the newest thug she unholstered her gun and quickly made a move to pick herself up but the konk to the head was still affecting her as her vision blurred and a wave of dizziness washed over the junior field agent. This was a not a time to show weakness because her life could depend on it; and more importantly her pride depended on it.

The thug from the van rushed her sensing a moment of weakness. A quick kick to the groin and the satisfying snap sound his nose made as her elbow connected with it gave her the perfect outlet for her the pent up emotions. Having quickly dismissed the van's driver and sporting what probably was an amazing concussion she had forgotten the man who had clocked her in the first place. He had not forgotten her though as evidenced by the swift quick he administered towards her rib cage. Normally she would have absorbed the blow and given it right back but she was not functioning at peak capacity today. Instead, she went sprawling back towards the ground.

"Bitch, you should have not fought back. You have just made it so much worse for yourself." He said giving her a lecherous smile letting her know exactly the kind of worse he had in mind.

Kenz was saved the trouble of showing this Casanova what she had in mind for him as evidenced by the crashing of Sam and Callen through the door. Both men gave her a precursory once over to make sure she was breathing before tackling the bad guys. She hadn't even noticed the van driver had gotten up. This was not Kensi. This is not how she operates. She prided herself in always being in the center of the action. Damsel in distress was something she disliked in others and despised in herself. A sudden wave of nausea swept through her body once and she let out a groan that was as much about being found weak as it was feeling physically awful.

Sam and Callen quickly deposed of the bad guys and had them tied up. While Callen was calling… she actually didn't know who he was calling, and giving the bad guys glares that told them if they got up they'd be shot, Sam went into what Nate had referred to as "Mama Bear" mode. Even though she was technically "the girl," Sam was an equal opportunist; he smothered them all equally. With that Sam gave her a level 3 worried look. It was a little worse than she was expecting. Callen was the only one ever made it to level 5, but she still had to be looking worse for wear to get a level 3. Was it odd that they had categorized Sam's level of worry? This was something she'd have to take up with Nate, but Sam's frown was increasing and heading towards level 4, and she did not want to be at level 4.

She gave him a smile, a real smile, that she hoped conveyed her appreciation for saving her, for taking out the bad guys, for being an amazing friend. He seemed to understand and he squeezed her shoulder and gave her a grin back as Callen came over to join them.

"Do we need a medic? I have Eric on the line?" he asked looking at Sam.

"I don't know. She doesn't look too hot. I think to be safe."

"She is sitting right here," she replied with a certain amount of venom in her voice.

"Oh, Kensi angry voice level 4. She can't be that bad if she's using the level 4 voice," Callen said still ignoring her. But that was Callen. If he properly acknowledged her, he would be overwhelmed with emotions and probably put a bullet in the thugs' heads. Not having grown up with a family he was fiercely protective of the one had he found at OSP.

"I'm fine. A little banged up, but I'm fine."

Kensi knew how to lie. She in fact lied for a living. She acknowledged some pain, to suggest that she was being truthful, but did not go into details or suggest anything bad. In fact she wasn't that bad. Their skeptical glances suggested that they read right through her bullshit. She stood up triumphantly smiling at them. Then she took a step forward and began to wobble like a toddler taking its first steps and found Sam and Callen had each grabbed an elbow to steady the younger woman.

Damn. This was not good. Callen was a much better damsel in distress than she was. Sam's worried look had now reached level 4 and Callen finally looked her in the eyes.

"What happened? Don't lie to me because I'm going to have Eric pull the tapes," he warned pointing a security camera that had slipped her guard. What was going on?

She gave them an accurate, if brief, recap of what happened from when she and Callen had split.

"There's something going on here, but I think we should get you to an er and get your head looked at," the team's mother bear replied.

The team knew that Kensi hated hospitals. Hated them. She could tolerate visiting her friends in them, but she could not be treated in them. Not long after she started at OSP, a fight with a jihadist had ended with her needing 36 stiches in her leg after a very long and sharp knight had cut through a pair of very sexy and very expensive jeans and into her skin. While the jihadist had made a trip to the hospital's morgue after Kensi Blye got through with him, after arguing that it was just a "flesh wound" Sam threw her over his shoulders and forced her to the emergency room.

In the same respect, the team knew that Sam's time in Iraq and Afghanistan had left him refusing to ever walk into a church again. Callen avoided cases with kids involved. Eric could not shoot a gun, he could not physically cause harm to another person. Nate hated dogs. Hated them after being bit by a rabid dog as a teenager. Hetty would always choose her agents over the job. She would lose her job to save them or protect them, and they knew this and never tested it. The beauty of NCIS OSP was that they knew each other's hang ups and let them slide. Sam was not going to let this go without a fight, and a fight she gave them.

"Seriously. I am fine. I got bumped on the head. I'm a little dizzy. I probably have a concussion, but there isn't anything they can do for me at the hospital. Nothing."

"I agree with Miss Blye," came the disembodied voice of Hetty through the comm link forcing the junior agent to give Sam her best "I told you so" look. "However, Nate will take a look at your when you get back Kensi."

It was Sam's turn to give her an "I told you so" smug look.

"Nate's a psychiatrist," said a confused Callen.

"Yes, I am a psychiatrist. But I still had to go to med school and I still had to go through all my rounds. If you think about it, I'm a head doctor, so I'm still treating her head."

"Mr. Getz, I believe your jokes are better saved for a different audience, perhaps, one that suffers from a hearing deficit?"

That caused the agents to smile. Sometimes she wondered if Nate really lacked a sense of humor or if he made himself the butt of jokes to make his friends smile.

As she walked towards the car, she never realized that G had refused to let go of her elbow as he guided her towards the car. She didn't notice the glance that Sam and Callen shared at the unusual Kensi behavior. She never let them take care of it, even when she needed them. They both instinctively knew that this distractedness was more likely from the loss of Dom than the loss of consciousness. She seemed equally unaware that the LAPD had arrived and Sam was briefing them on what had happened as Callen walked her towards the car.

Kensi Meredith Blye was deep in thought. This day sucked. But it was about over. They'd go debrief. Decide a course for tomorrow. Nate would look at her head. Eric would drive her home and then she'd take a really long hot bubble bath and end her day. That's all she wanted. A bubble bath, because even Kensi Blye needed some pampering occasionally, a very rare occasion, but she still needed it sometimes. Then she could end this awful day. As she got into the backseat, she was still unaware that her day was not in fact close to over and it could achieve a whole new level of "suckiness."