December 18, 2012

It's Christmas again.

The beautiful season. She's seen the Washington snow on the news, heard of the massive snowstorm that has all but suffocated Montana – and thought of picking up the phone – and even the temperatures in LA have dropped significantly. Then there's the lights, the garlands, the wreaths, the music.

Christmas.

Kensi kind of wishes it would go away.

She knows she's not that girl. She's a girl that loves the holiday season, adores it, even. It's a love handed down and nurtured by her now-deceased father and reawaken by her now-runaway ex-fiancé.

Ex.

It hurts.

It broke her, if she's honest. To be grateful to have her solider home for Christmas only to have him disappear for Christmas morning had been too much. Instead of celebrating she'd torn down every decoration and packed away every present.

She hasn't touched those boxes in a year. She's refused, even though they'd come with her to the new apartment. There's nothing for Christmas out at her house.

Unfortunately for her, the NCIS Office of Special Projects celebrates. Or, well, decorates. It's been making Kensi nauseous since the 'holiday season' began. But she's new and fresh and knows there's no one in the world who has less of a say in the office decorating scheme right now.

She shares her tiny little cubicle of an office with two other, more senior agents. They're both there, bickering good-naturedly when she steps in.

"Come on, man. You've got to come."

"Nuh uh, no way. I don't do families."

Kensi's pretty sure she's never seen ex-SEAL special agent Sam Hanna pout. She's also pretty sure the man's damn close to doing just that. Or begging. Either would be disturbing, she thinks. "You're my partner. You're supposed to have my back."

"And I do. In the field," Callen responds. "Every day."

"So it's just another op," Sam retorts. "Partners."

"Take Kens."

Kensi's head comes up at that. It's a long-abhorred nickname that Callen insists on. She's given up verbally expressing her displeasure but offers him a glare that could kill. She turns to give Sam a smile.

"Take Kensi to what?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Yes, let's take the young, pretty very new agent to the first actually Christmas dinner with my girlfriend."

Kensi's eyebrow climbs her forehead.

"We were both working last year," Sam explains quickly and vaguely. They have a strict no-ask policy around personal lives. "She wants to do Christmas dinner our way this year."

Ah. A milestone. Kensi can understand Sam's vehemence. "Who have you invited?"

"Her friends. One of my SEAL buddies."

Not many on his side. Since she's known Sam a while she can guess at where this is going. Their job can be isolationist by nature, but that's not going to help Sam show his girlfriend that work doesn't take over his life. By inviting work friends, but logic is a different story.

"Plenty of people," Callen pipes up. "No need to put in the extra effort of adding one more."

"She's planning for an army."

"It's just dinner," Kensi agrees. "You eat, play nice, then go home."

"And I know you don't have plans for Christmas Eve," Sam adds.

Callen looks to Kensi, then back to Sam. "Alright, we'll both be there."

"Wait, what?" That definitely hadn't been the plan. She doesn't do Christmas.

"Do you have plans?" Callen asks with a raised eyebrow.

She's in a corner. She knows it. "Well, no, but-"

"Then it's settled."

Kensi's mouth opens and closes. He's her boss and all, direct orders and this twisted need to please so they'll keep her at NCIS – and yes she knows how that sounds, thanks therapy – but Christmas. Between that and the relief that is actually all over Sam's face, her mouth snaps shut.

Except that night she goes home and has a nightmare. Jack and her dad, dinner at Sam's. There's blood and pain and another reason to hate Christmas. She wakes in the middle of a panic attack, tears streaking down her face and lungs unable to expand.

She shares a surveillance van with Sam that afternoon and makes up a story about an aunt in San Diego.

She's grateful when Sam doesn't ask.


He's never really let himself consider Kensi as a woman he could date.

It's not the age thing. With everything he's learned about her, everything she's been through, she's wise beyond her years and when they're in the field, she certainly never seems like her age. And it's not that she's not beautiful because he's never been blind. So besides the fact that he has never really thought about dating in general – he's an undercover federal agent, not stupid – there's no reason to think of Kensi as a viable romantic interest.

Except that she's Kensi.

They work together. She carries a gun. She could kick his ass. He's got baggage he does not need to foist on her and, if he's bluntly honest, any romantic interest in her had been pushed even further aside with the arrival of Detective Deeks.

He flicks his fingers over the wooden star he's made a special stop for. Things are different. Now, she is a romantic interest. There can't be a doubt. Sure, it's a no pressure romantic interest, but it is a romantic interest. He shouldn't. They shouldn't.

But they are.

And he's here.

A casual invitation after shift. She had to stay late, to finish up some paperwork, and he'd been itching to hit the gym. She'd merely mentioned her tree needed decorating. He'd thought immediately of the ornament that had been today's advent calendar gift, and told her to text him when she was off. He's late now, kind of, but when she yells that the door's open, he figures she doesn't much care.

He does kind of care that she is actually surrounded when he steps in. It's more than a bit daunting.

"I know," she says, and that's another thing. She'd been reading him like a book for years, anticipating before he has to say it. "It's chaos. Does this mean I'm forgiven for leaving the door open?"

His eyes narrow. After Deeks' shooting, they've all become more vigilant. He's opening his mouth to scold her when she lifts the ugliest looking macaroni-made ornament he's ever seen. Instead of asking her what the hell she'd been doing leaving the door open, he says, "What the hell is that?"

She flips it over with a frown. "I made it when I was four."

He finally pushes her front door shut and moves farther into the room. "You have the stuff you made as a kid?"

"Yeah," she shrugs, reaching into a box beside her. She pulls another out, this one a glittery ball of what he thinks might be painted marshmallows. "Jack had his own, so I haven't seen these in years. My dad kept everything."

Callen settles on the floor with her, reaching into the box. Together, they unwrap more than simple Christmas balls. There are nutcrackers, and puppies with antlers; stars and angels and even a photo frame with tiny Kensi at, apparently, age six.

In another box, there's a whole other time capsule. These though, are matching ornaments. Balls and elegant icicles, gauzy angels and sparkling stars. This is a theme tree, an older tree. He feels Kensi lean over his shoulder.

"That was my tree with Jack," she confirms, the words murmured in his ear. "His parents rotated through three different theme trees, so it was what he was used to."

He holds out one of the angels. "It's your tree. Do the honours?"

Because the intimacy and emotion rolling off of her makes her feel things. Not that he doesn't want to feel them, it's just – God. Complicated.

He reaches into his pocket and rubs his fingers over the star. It reminds him of the decision he'd made climbing the rock wall earlier in the evening, ten feet above the gym floor. A decision that will move them another step forward.

. . . . .

They come across them about half way through unwrapping the ornaments. An entire box of still-wrapped gifts. It actually makes him stop dead. They've created a pretty solid rhythm. He's been unwrapping the decorations while she's been finding the perfect branches.

"Kens?"

She looks up, humming stopping abruptly. Her eyes land on the box. "Oh."

She sounds surprised and she drops down beside him on her knees. She lifts the first gift almost reverently in her hands, running her fingers over the trailing ribbons. Callen waits. He's patient. He can be absolutely still and he can definitely wait her out.

Sure enough, she blows out a breath. It's heavy enough that he says, "You don't-"

But there's determination in her eyes when she raises them to his. He knows that face. She flips the gift over in her hands, then again.

"Jack's family was in Montana," she begins, shifting to settle herself more comfortably on the floor. "We tried to go every year. He was always big on family."

She sucks in a breath. "When we got back, when the PTSD settled in, his mom and I agreed that maybe a plane wasn't the best plan. You know, confined spaces, unpredictable attacks and-" She shakes her head.

"The drive to Montana is too far, I wasn't going to be able to get the time off, it was chaotic… And all of Jack's doctors were here. It just did not makes sense. So they were going to come down around New Years'."

Callen feels her skin beneath his palm, realizes he's reached out for her. She drops a hand to squeeze his.

"Something was off. I knew it. I knew it when we went to bed. The next morning I woke up to a note on Jack's pillow and an empty apartment."

She's got tears in her eyes. He can see them and the brave way she holds them back. And maybe, he realizes, this is why he's been drawn to her from the beginning, why all of this emotion and intimacy has come out over the last eighteen days.

She has been through so much. So very much. She's strong, she's resilient, she has faith and heart and hope. There's darkness, sure, but it's not overshadowed. Sometimes, he is, and he finds himself unable to dwell on it when she's around.

"He said he just couldn't do it anymore. He hated that he was bringing me down, holding me back." She sucks in a shaky breath, weaving her fingers with his on her thigh. "I packed everything into boxes that Christmas Day and I haven't looked at them since."

"Which is explains why you have two sets of ornaments."

She smiles, just a little. He watches her, the way she bites at her lip, the nerves in her twitching fingers; so much emotion so close to the surface. He takes his biggest leap of faith.

Pulling his hand gently from hers, he reaches into his pocket. He's never been good with words, but he is good with actions and he can feel her eyes on him as he stands. There's no pattern to the tree. The ornaments are clumped all over the place. He reaches out for an empty branch.

"Callen?"

He offers her one of his odd, crooked smiles. "New memories, right?"

He sees the moment the significance sinks in.

Christmas.

Real Christmas.

Not the advent calendar, or some shared traditions but Christmas Day. His ornaments mixed with hers on a tree they picked out together.

A new Christmas morning.

Kensi bites her lip. Then, setting the present aside, heads for her own calendar. She hangs her identical star on the same branch, then wraps an arm around his waist, splaying her hand on his hip.

"New memories," she agrees against his jaw.

He tugs her in, looking at the absolute mess of a tree. Then he looks over at the box of gifts. "What about the old ones?"

There's a moment, then she grins. "I have the perfect place for them."

An hour later, she shoves him out the door with an address he doesn't recognize typed into his phone. Eleven in the morning, she'd said. Time to get rid of some old memories.

He can get behind that.


Ugh! I hate everythinggggg.

Okay. So, down to not so many. Which makes me happy. And I promise to try and do better with the quality of these things. It's a weird place to be in the story where you know where you want to end up but getting there, one day at a time, becomes if not repetitive than really boring. I'm hoping you guys feel like the chapters are moving the story forward. Cause it's kind of one of the major things that's bugging me about the last handful of chapters.

As always, my eternal gratification to all of you readers, and even more, if it's possible, to those of you who also review. The interest is enough to keep me pushing, this story specifically.

ERRORS ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE AND I MAKE THEM SO LEAVE THEM THAT WAY CAUSE I'M HUMAN KAY THANKS BYE!