December 4, 2012
Kensi wakes to soft butterfly kisses across her cheeks, her forehead, her closed eyelids. She groans and rolls from her side to her back.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
Her eyes flutter open to find Jack grinning down at her. "What time is it?"
"Early," he replies, ducking his head to pepper kisses across her neck and exposed shoulders. She squirms. "I brought you a present."
If it's as early as Kensi's pretty sure it is – Jack isn't known for sleeping in – she does not want to be awake yet, even for presents. And not even for the tempting way Jack's mouth is pressing against her skin. So instead of sitting up in excitement, she threads a hand through his hair and settles back into the pillows. "Presents can wait." He presses his tongue to her collarbone and despite the pick up of her pulse, Kensi groans. "So can that. I'm sleeping."
"You're wasting the day."
Her eyes open and she takes his face in her hands now, tugging him up until she looks him in the eye. "If I roll over and that clock says anything before eight, you're sleeping on the couch."
Jack catches her head, delving his fingers into her hair to hold her steady. "Mm, better not look at that clock then," he says and kisses her.
God, she's so weak. She gives in, like he knew she would, kissing him just as fiercely. His hands are roaming and hers aren't still either until they break the kiss, gasping for air.
"What do you have against sleep?" she manages to pant breathlessly.
"Nothing," he answers as he nuzzles her neck. "There are just so many other, better, things to do."
"Like what?" she finds herself asking. "And where's my present?"
"Demanding." But he's smiling, propping himself on one elbow to reach for her bedside table. He returns with a mug, setting it gently on her sternum. The heat hits her first and she gasps, surprised at the heat in comparison to the cool air of the apartment. The smell hits her next and she groans.
"Hot chocolate? Again? Can't you just bring me coffee like a normal person?"
"You drink too much coffee."
She glares. "You'll switch that for coffee if you know what's good for you."
The cup disappears from her chest. When he returns, it's without a mug and his hands slide down her arms. He's got her wrists before she realizes what he's doing and it's too late to fight back. He yanks them above her head, pinning her to the bed before she can fight back.
"Jack!"
An hour later, the hot chocolate's more like chocolate milk, but Kensi's not feeling quite as hostile anyway. They're sitting up in bed, her head against his shoulder when she's not sipping from the mug, enjoying the time together before the chaos of the day starts.
Though she'll never tell him, Kensi doesn't really have anything against these types of early mornings.
When Kensi had looked behind door number four, she'd almost laughed to herself. Hot chocolate is not often necessary with the LA climate. But now, after a very long day, as she walks through the bullpen, having ruined another one of Hetty's outfits by giving it an accidental dunking, she's rethinking her opinion.
"Shut up, all of you," she growls as she yanks her hair into a messy bun. She'd pulled the pins out in the car and tucked them safely into the outfit's little clutch. "When you guys are tossed in a freezing fountain in satin and heels, then you can laugh. Until then, shut up."
She knows they're all still sniggering. She'd seen herself in the rearview, she knows she looks more like a drowned rat than anything else, but they got the collar so while she's pissed, cranky and cold, there is a fission of pleasure that skates through her body when she thinks about it.
"Another casualty of war, Miss Blye?"
She sighs and offers Hetty a tiny smile. "I'm sorry Hetty."
The operations manager offers her a little smile and there's something in her eyes that puts Kensi's back up. It's not a trust thing, but the look in Hetty's eyes in one that tells Kensi Hetty knows something and she has a plan. "Better the dress than you, my dear."
It's a bit of a dismissal and Kensi takes full advantage, padding across the stones of the hacienda to the 'costume department'. Her clothes are still there and she changes into them swiftly. They're not much warmer and she yearns for the single pair of flannel pajamas she's kept at home. But there's paperwork and debrief, so she can't go home just yet.
When she returns to the bullpen, however, Callen is the only one left.
"Hetty's sending us home. Everything can wait until morning."
Kensi blinks, even though she's cheering internally. She's going to put Hetty's little gift for the day to good use, curl up in those flannel pajamas and think warm thoughts. At least, that's her plan until she's all packed up and ready to go while Callen's still sitting in his chair, bent over a file.
"I thought Hetty kicked us out?"
"I've got other work."
She can't say she likes that. With Callen's confession still remarkably fresh in her mind, considering, and his agreement to share the advent calendar with her floating through her exhausted mind, she has a different idea. "I'm taking my hot chocolate home. The one from the advent calendar."
He looks up at that, a little wary and, if she's reading him right, a little excited. "Oh?"
She smiles, a little self-deprecatingly. "That water was freezing."
There's a split second where sympathy darts across his face before it's back to that cocky half-smile. "You make a good drowned rat."
She just barely resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "Coming?"
"What?"
"The calendar, Callen. Hot chocolate. Coming?"
He's genuinely surprised by the invitation. Shocked enough, she thinks, to just roll with it. So she reaches over, closing the file in front of him and going as far as to open the door on his advent calendar for him. She tugs the little package out and waves it in front of his face, never more thankful for how comfortable they all are with each other.
"Or I can have it all myself."
The way he snatches the bag from her makes her jump. He's actually cradling it to his chest and it makes her blink. It's hot chocolate, not the Hope Diamond. Still, she beams at him and waits while he grabs his bag from beneath his desk. He gives her a wide birth and she laughs at the way he keeps the chocolate away from her. It's the most childish she's ever seen him, but she can't deny that she likes it. It's a different side of Callen and she wonders if it's the season that brings it out.
Now that he's celebrating of course.
She hasn't really told him the entirety of her plan. He doesn't know that she wants new happy memories of Christmas. He doesn't know how much she plans on taking Hetty's words about a break and a happy time of year to heart. And he most certainly doesn't know that his story about looking up at the lights of the tree had solidified a new decision in her mind. She's had good Christmases, lots of them. But not Callen. And she figures if she's making new memories for herself, it doesn't hurt to make them for someone else too.
It might take a little convincing, but Kensi doesn't really care. She's always liked challenges. Though, considering the way he's still eyeing her warily, his hot chocolate powder as far from her as he can get it, she's not sure it'll take as much as she'd thought. It makes her grin, her body warming at the delight coursing through her.
Maybe she really won't need that hot chocolate after all.
She makes it anyway, with Callen hovering at the edge of the tile that separates her little kitchen from the carpet of the rest of her apartment. It's shockingly nerve-wracking, probably because she knows the last time he was here, she was off trying to find her father's killer. And the place was a mess. She doesn't really remember that time fondly, even if it did end up giving her and her mother a reason to reconcile.
"Hot chocolate was Jack's thing," she finds herself revealing into the silence. She can't stand it when silence mixes with nerves. It's the one thing that can make her ramble like an idiot. She feels the words all crowding in her throat, even though she knows it's Callen, so Jack's off limits, because she doesn't share this stuff. There was that one time, but that's extenuating circumstances.
But she cannot help herself. The silence is killing her. "He'd make it in the morning and it looks like coffee. I used to get so mad at him when he'd hand me a mug of hot chocolate instead of coffee." She laughs a little to herself as she decides both mugs are ready and hands one over to him. "We're not even really in a climate that means hot chocolate is a good treat on a cold day. It's never really that cold."
He's watching her intently, almost too intently, and if her nerves hadn't tipped her head long into rambling, the look on his face would. She has this thing where she can't stand strong under people who mean something to her. She bites her cheek – rather hard – as she faces him in the doorway to her kitchen. He's not moving, so she's just standing there, holding the mug, watching him absently move the spoon around in his. It's really making her antsy now. So much so that she's opening her mouth without realizing it.
His hand clamps down on her wrist and her mouth literally snaps shut. He's just looking at her, watching her, but there's something significant there. Something's happening. She feels it.
"Christmas means something to me," she finds herself saying, a little against her will. He does this to her and she doesn't understand it. He has a way with her where she just talks. Deeks tricks her into saying things, Sam just stares, but Callen… She's never figured it out.
He doesn't reply, just keeps watching her, like he's putting two and two together to get four when she's not really sure what adding is. It's a feeling that drives her nuts most days, but because of that significant Thing spread across his face, she doesn't feel as irritated. She's wary, she's a bit guarded because he can make her spill all her secrets, but she's not angry.
He breaks the moment and whatever significance has built, by stepping away and heading into the living room. He plops to her couch. "TV?"
She finds herself stuttering out a yes and almost stumbling over her own feet to the couch. She doesn't know what happened, but she does know one very important thing.
She wants it to happen again.
Soon.
And next time, she'll get answers.
I AM SO FAR BEHIND! It's breaking my heart a little bit. I have been this far behind before and managed to catch up, but it feels like every free day I have gets shangaied by illness. I had the migraine from hell today and finishing this was a battle. I'm hoping now that I have the "gift" for each day (well, minus three, but they're the 20s, so they don't count right now) set out, it'll be easier to work my way through it. It's been a very long time since I built Kensi/Callen slowly and it's taking patience and a hell of a lot of hope to do it.
As it stands, they don't feel right in this one. It's probably because a lot of this one is personal and outside the job and I'm banking on the season and the set up of Kensi's goal for the next 20 days being enough of an explanation as to why they're acting the way they are. I'm thinking I'll have to write a chapter from Callen's POV though. They've all been Kensi's. Could be fun on the memory front.
OH! Right, that too. I meant to add that. So, the beginning of each chapter is Kensi's memory. An old good (well, the last one may not have been "good" per se, but it falls under that for me. When I'm more coherent maybe I'll try and explain) memory of Kensi's past Christmases. Or, well, past experience with whatever is happening in the chapter.
I love you guys for being patient and encouraging. Seriously. It's the greatest thing I could have asked for with how much trouble this is giving me. The reviews are lights in my days, and each of you that reviews and has left me with your traditions, I love you more than I can write down. Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
