For story notes, please see chapter 1. No really. Please.

. . . . .

December 2, 2012

"Come on, Kens. It'll be fun!"

Kensi stares at Jack and the bill he's holding out for her. "No. I won't do it. That's stupid. There's a Salvation Army kettle at the corner, I'll just go-"

"No." Jack's firm as he steers her away from the corner she's talking about, leaning his chin against her shoulder. "The idea is that it has to be a secret and it has to be a stranger."

She huffs. "It's a ridiculous idea. And what if they think I'm trying to pick their pockets?"

"You? Pick pockets? And get caught?" he murmurs and Kensi feels the smile tilt her mouth regardless. She's a sneaky thing, always has been. He wraps his arms around her from behind, hugging him to his chest. "It's Christmas, Kens. Spirit of giving."

She sighs. She's still not sure how he can convince her to do anything he asks. She's stubborn, so very stubborn. Her father used to tell her she was the most stubborn female he'd ever met. But she's an absolute softie for the man currently snuggling into her neck. She laughs as his stubble tickles at her skin. "Fine, fine! Just… stop."

He grins and she rolls her eyes. He loves the effect he can have on her with a brush of his fingers. It drives her nuts.

They wander for over an hours, wherever their feet take them. Kensi's got the bill wadded up in her pocket. She sticks her fingers in every once in a while, rubbing against a corner and not really caring that she's probably wiped off more germs than a quarantine unit. Her heart is beating wildly in her chest as she takes in the people. She's had a few ideas, but none of them have felt right. If she's going to get into the spirit of giving, then she's going to do it right.

She appreciates it, really. Jack knows about her father, knows about her Christmas traditions and despite the fact that they've been together for two Christmases now, he doesn't push her into more than she's ready for. He's letting her take her time, letting her make the tradition her own despite the fact that she can all but feel the anxiousness coming off him in waves. He's nervous, she realizes, and she's not sure why. Maybe because he's scared she won't be able to do it – yeah right, she's just picky, that's all – or maybe he's just nervous that she doesn't like the idea – which is stupid, she's head over heels for the idea because it reminds her of the giving back her father drilled into her head – but it's starting to skate along her nerves.

She sighs. "It has to be perfect," she says to him, even as she looks around the crowded street. "The right person, the right time, the right situation."

He's watching the way her eyes dart around to all the people, and reaches for the hand not constantly fingering the dirty bill in her pocket. She can feel some of the anxiety wash away, some of his nerves settle. "Okay."

"If I wanted easy, I could have put it in that kettle," she mumbles, squeezing his hand as she keeps looking.

Then she finds it.

Well, she finds her.

There's a woman sitting on a park bench, watching the children play, looking both anxious and exhausted. Her clothes are neat and clean, but definitely not the designer brands Kensi often sees around LA. They're well-worn, well-loved. As she watches, the woman calls out towards two children wrestling in the dirt. Something about the woman's posture draws Kensi in and she knows she's found her recipient.

"Her," she says quietly to Jack. "She's a mother of two."

Jack takes the scene in quickly, then looks back to her. "Well?"

"Patience," she murmurs. "It has to be right."

He huffs, but she can feel the way he vibrates at her shoulder. He's excited, and she can feel it welling up in her too. The woman takes a boy's hand in each of her own and they set off, walking slowly because both boys get distracted here and there. Eventually, they stop across the street from a shelter for battered women. Kensi's breath catches and she feels Jack reach for her hip. The idea hits her in a split second and she turns to press a hard kiss to his mouth.

"Catch me if you can."

She's off, dodging between people, but her eyes on that woman. The boys want to cross the street, but she's making them wait, double and triple checking both that the street is clear of cars and, Kensi can see, that it's otherwise safe. She doesn't know if the woman's ashamed of the fact that she's in a shelter or if she's looking for the individual that's put her there, but it gives Kensi the right opening.

She bumps into the woman, as gently as she can to keep the little family from tumbling out into the street. Her aim is swift and true and she manages to slip the bill into the woman's jacket pocket as she stops to quickly apologize. When she glances up, Jack's gained on her, so she grins and squeals like a happy child, taking off again. She lets him catch her a few steps away though, lets the woman see that this isn't an assailant chasing his victim as Jack's arms wrap tightly around her waist, lifting her into the air as she giggles.

It's all crashing down on her, the thrill of giving away, the idea that she's found the perfect little family to donate it to, and the pride that not only did she really do it secretly, but that her father would be proud of her and Jack.

Jack puts her back on her feet, spinning her and pressing his mouth to hers. She lifts on her toes to kiss him back, pouring all of the joy into their kiss. They're both breathless when they pull away, but she's beaming.

"Can we do it again?"


Kensi had taken her advent calendar home. She's glad for it, as she sit staring at the door for December 2nd, a day off. She doesn't want to have to cart herself into the office just to see what's behind door number two and she most certainly doesn't want to fall behind. That's more of a Deeks thing, and she has a goal.

She'd thought about it last night, long after she'd finished dinner with Callen and headed home. It was time, she decided, to write new memories. Really write new memories. It was time to, well, rediscover the Christmas season. There were so many things she missed doing, so many things that held memories too painful to dredge up.

Not this year, and the resolve solidifies again as she stares at door number two. This year she's going to make time for all those things she misses. She's not going to wait for Deeks to invite her to the shelter he volunteers at. She's going to smile when the barista at Starbucks hands her a Christmas cup. She's not going to shy away from the lights or wreaths. Maybe she'll even think about putting up some of her own.

She's reaching for door two when her phone rings. She groans. She'd been looking forward to the time off. She wants to just open her advent calendar in the quiet of her apartment and puzzle over Hetty's clue away from Deeks' judging eyes. She loves her partner dearly, but some things a girl just needs to do in her own way. But it's not Deeks' name on her caller display.

"Callen?"

"Have you opened the window?"

She blinks. Callen calls for cases. Callen calls for updates or lunch orders. Callen doesn't call over something like advent calendars. She finds her face heating up, worried that maybe her awe and memories had shone through despite how closely she holds so much of herself. "About to."

He huffs and she almost laughs, because he sounds uncharacteristically childish. Sure, Callen throws himself into whatever is asked of him, but an advent calendar presented to him by their Operations Manager? Kensi definitely expects more resistance than childish frustration. "It doesn't make sense."

Oh. Well. Maybe she needs to take it back.

She wedges the phone between her shoulder and her ear, reaching out to slide a nail in the cardboard window. She pries it open carefully to find a fifty-dollar bill wedged in the little box. There's no note. She wants to say something about the gift of giving, because she doesn't really think Hetty wanted them to keep the money.

"We're supposed to give it away," she blurts out, unsure of where the words even come from.

"What?"

"It's the spirit of giving," she says and unknowingly, her voice has softened as she looks at the simple bill. She's got a handful in her wallet but something about looking at that bill has her heart filling. She has an idea. An idea of a million years ago, almost a different lifetime to her. But she's making new memories, good memories and she feels the giddy excitement well up inside her. She's never given this much away, but she can feel the warmth suffusing her body, the challenge welling up.

She doesn't realize she's already standing until she reaches for her jacket. LA's not cold, by any means, but for someone who has lived in the city a while, a jacket is necessary for December's cooler temperatures.

"The spirit of giving." He sounds incredibly skeptical and she almost laughs.

"I'm coming to get you," she says, and it's all impulse. But she's giddy and excited. She remembers the thrill of sneaking money into pockets and kettles, ensuring no one knew it was donated, or no one knew she'd done it. She hasn't done it years and she wonders briefly if her skills as an agent will be a help or a hindrance this time. "I have a plan."

"That scares me."

She rolls her eyes, grinning brightly. She can't help it. She's excited. She likes the idea of sharing the tradition with Callen, of making it her own in this little way. And in the process, honouring both Jack and the memories she holds in her heart.

. . . . .

He's at OSP, which isn't a surprise. Neither are the calendars on Deeks and Sam's desks. Callen's call makes her wonder if they're the only ones about to take this calendar challenge seriously. He's still staring at the fifty-dollar bill, but he looks up as she swings around the gate. That looks is back in his eyes again as he looks at her, all glee and pent up excitement.

"Well?" she asks, almost bouncing on her toes. "Are you coming?"

Callen can't remember the last time he's seen Kensi so excited. She, like him, is rather indifferent to the upcoming holiday and the mood they share is generally much more subdued. But a man would have to be dead to miss the way the excitement lights up her face, and would have to be much stronger than he, if they wanted to resist that invitation.

So he pushes himself up, taking the bill from the calendar with him. He tucks it into his pocket as he falls into step with her. "So what's this plan?"

"In a minute," she says, excitement turning to mystery.

He remembers, belatedly, that he hates Kensi's driving and pulls himself gingerly from the passengers seat when she parks. There's nothing particularly descript about the area of Los Angeles she's chosen, but that doesn't deter Kensi's bouncing mood. On the contrary, either she spots something immediately or this is exactly what she's looking for because the excitement doesn't diminish one iota.

"After my dad died," she starts, eyes darting around the street, as she turns left out of the parking lot. They're on foot now, weaving through the general pedestrian traffic. "And I had Jack, he'd always try and cheer me up around the holidays."

Callen knows the feeling. Well, kind of. At least the one he's pretty sure she's referring to. A few of his foster families had celebrated with a massive Christmas season, but the ones that didn't coloured his entire outlook on the season.

"One year, he created this jar. I wasn't sure what it was, but we each put money into it. I figured it was going to end up being some sort of trip or something. Turns out, we saved for a year and one day in December, he pulled all of the bills and coins out. We'd saved so much. He changed it all to whole bills and gave me one. I had to give it to someone who needed it, without anyone knowing."

The idea she's been speaking of since he called is starting to formulate in his brain now, but he lets her go on. Kensi talking so freely about Jack, let alone the holidays, is not something to be interrupted.

"The only one I can really remember is the first one. I waited and waited and waited. It had to be perfect. I had the bill in my pocket and Jack was getting impatient at my back, and then I saw this woman, two boys, and we followed them back to a women's shelter." She turns to him now, her eyes alight and fierce. He doesn't know why she's sharing all this or what has cracked her shell enough that she's just told him that story, but he keeps his mouth shut, still unwilling to break the spell. "I could feel the adrenaline, the nerves, but I'd had practice at picking pockets and this is just the reverse. It felt so good afterwards. And we kept doing it until we'd run out of money from that jar."

He waits for another moment to see if there's more to the story. When she doesn't go on, he says, "And you think that's what Hetty wants us to do?"

"Not that elaborate," she admits. "But."

He gets it. They could just put it in a kettle and be on their way, maybe find the closest children's charity and make a donation. But that's quick and easy and Callen senses that Kensi's got something deeper at work here. While he may find the idea tedious and a waste of time, it's not like he would have been doing anything better back in OSP headquarters. "Lead on."

She looks at him, surprised and maybe touched he thinks. "Really?"

"Really," he agrees. Part of him figures there's nothing he can lose, and Kensi's excitement is surprisingly infectious. "Pick your first victim."

It's amazing to see the focus Kensi regularly employs in her work focused on a non-work-related task. He doesn't spend much time with the team outside of the office – Sam excluded, of course – and he's not familiar with the glee shining on Kensi's face. It makes her look impossibly young, like the damage of the world doesn't affect her. He knows better, of course, because they're all damaged and they all have their fair share of betrayals and heartbreaks, but it's worth something to see most of that drain away from Kensi's frame.

If he's honest, she's the one he worries about most. It's not that she can't take care of herself because he's seen her worm her way out of impossible situations, but about the aftermath. They all take pieces of the job home with them and he worries that maybe Kensi takes more than most. It's why she and Deeks fit so well as partners. The detective is brighter, happier, wouldn't drag Kensi down the way he and Sam can.

So he watches her, feels the excitement and the spirit of the game infuse him from where her elbow casually and periodically brushes against his.

"Well?" she asks after a while, turning her head to the side to regard him. "When are you going to step up, Callen?"

"I'm waiting for you."

She grins, a childish glee sparkling in her eyes. "I gave mine away twenty minutes ago."

And he'd missed it? What the hell had he been doing? He finds himself blinking in surprise, impressed that she's managed to give away her bill without giving herself away too. Sometimes, her skills absolutely terrify him.

Then he sees the kid. Can't be more than maybe twelve, hiding in an alcove. He knows what that means, even if he doesn't know if that's the kid's home. Kensi slows beside him and he's not sure if it's because she's seen the kid too or if she knows he has. His soft-spot for foster children is difficult to miss.

He plays this game all the time and she does too, so she barely flinches when he flashes her a grin and takes her hand. She'll play along, like she always does, though she looks just as giddy at the idea as he feels. The little alcove the kid's picked is the front door to a convenience store and he takes advantage, pulling Kensi with him. She barely blinks as she reaches for the door, giving him enough time to find a way to slip the money gently and carefully into the kid's jacket.

She's right, he realizes as he watches her browse the aisles. It feels good. It feels more than good. There's adrenaline pumping through his system, glee warring with the triumph of a skill well-used. Ten minutes later, she's offering him chips from the bag she'd finally chosen as they continue to wander down the street.

"So?"

She's nervous and it's kind of funny. "Hell of an adventure for my second day with this advent calendar stuff."

But Kensi's known him long enough to know how to read between the lines and she grins, going back to that excitement that had him positive she'd be literally bouncing any second. "Stick with me," she says smugly. "I'm a pro."

He grins back.


I'm behind already. Sigh. Tomorrow is Catch Up Day, assuming my throat stops screaming at me. Well, no. It'll be a Catch Up day, because being behind this early is just disturbing. I hate it. But there were things conspiring against me.

Hilariously, it's Kensi I'm worried is OOC here. But you guys are usually pretty good at calling me out when I do stuff like that.

Thank you for reviews! And new ones too! People I'd never seen before. It makes me so happy!