Hello there! I'm so sorry this update took a little longer - I really struggled with the revising of this chapter. I rewrote it many times and considered splitting it into two chapters but then decided that it really needed to be one for the full effect. But now I think it is finally finished! And I know you are all curious about Kensi, so this chapter does include more details about her and Callen. Thanks again for reading, and please do leave a review to let me know what you think!
-II-
"Brandon Stewart, youngest son of a prominent industrial CEO, recently engaged to his long-time girlfriend, Marissa Roberts."
Callen looked up from the file he was reading and studied his reflection in the mirror. "You think I oughta wear a tie?"
"Hmmm...you're disillusioned. Your father wears a tie."
Callen spun around in surprise. "Hetty, we're hitting the high rollers here. I thought we were going for formal."
"Formal can be done without a tie, Mr. Callen." As if to prove her point, she finished buttoning his cufflinks and yanked him down to her level to straighten his collar. "Lest you return it with a blood stain and neglect to tell me about it," she added disdainfully.
"Hetty, I'm offended."
"Tough."
She stepped back to examine her handsome agent, dressed in a sleek black suit, with a crisp white shirt slightly open at the collar, without a tie. She nodded approvingly.
"Your lady awaits, Mr. Callen," she said. "Be a gentleman tonight, would you?"
Callen rolled his eyes at her suggestive tone. "Hetty, it's just an op."
"Mmmm." Hetty sounded thoughtful. "Sometimes it's hard to tell."
~*~o~*~
For something that was just an op, Hetty had certainly gone to great lengths to ensure that it would be an impressive one. Even Callen and Kensi were surprised as their white stretch limo pulled up to one of the most expensive restaurants in Los Angeles. Sliding gracefully off the leather seat, Kensi attached herself possessively to Callen's arm, following as the maître d' showed them to a private table illuminated by soft, romantic candlelight.
With the two of them dressed in elegant formal attire, looking every bit the rich, attractive, newly engaged couple they were portraying, anyone would have bought the act that Callen and Kensi were putting on. If it weren't for the button cameras in their clothes, the surveillance equipment that Eric was monitoring, and the lines of communication in their ears, the two of them might have bought it, too.
"He's here," Kensi suddenly hissed under her breath.
As their guest approached the table, Callen instantly shifted into his undercover persona. He quickly stood and politely greeted a tall, gruff-looking U.S. Marine lieutenant.
"Brandon Stewart," he said, extending his hand. "And my beautiful fiancée, Marissa Roberts."
Kensi provided a dazzling smile right on cue.
"Good evening, Mr. Stewart, Ms. Roberts," the lieutenant said. "I believe I have an attractive business proposition for you."
~*~o~*~
"Didn't think he would fall for that," Kensi admitted later that night.
"U.S. Marine lieutenant looking for kickbacks from a billion-dollar corporation," Callen said, shaking his head. "Thought he could make a deal with the boss's son and his fiancée."
"Guess he thought he wouldn't get caught."
"He might have been rethinking that when you socked him in the jaw tonight."
Callen gave her a cheeky smile, and Kensi found herself uncharacteristically blushing at his somewhat twisted compliment.
"Nice work, Kenz," he added softly.
She smiled shyly in response, the blush slowly spreading through the rest of her body. Her heart skipped a beat as he took a step closer, and she wondered if Callen could also feel the heat radiating between them.
She was completely unprepared for the sparks that exploded inside of her as his lips softly brushed against hers. His mouth was warm and tender, and she could feel her knees go weak as she melted into him. When he pulled back after a moment, both of them remained frozen, staring at each other breathlessly, wondering what exactly had just happened.
Kensi found her voice first. "Callen," she breathed, "the op is over."
He brought his hand to her cheek, and his eyes locked on hers. "Sometimes it's hard to tell," he whispered.
And when his lips descended on hers again, Kensi was more than willing to let him take her breath away.
~*~o~*~
As the ocean waves crashed upon the shore below the pier, the lone figure sitting on the sand slowly touched a finger to his lips. After all this time, he swore he could still taste her. He could still feel her soft kisses trailing down his neck, and he could remember the pleasurable sensation of her body pressed against his.
He had no idea when that line between undercover and reality had started to blur. He had never even seen it coming. But maybe he and Kensi had spent so long working together – and dating each other undercover – that falling in love with each other was simply the next natural step.
He closed his eyes as he felt a familiar stabbing pain in his chest. The anger that had consumed him after Kensi died had been unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He had been blindly hellbent on tracking down whoever had ordered the hit on her, and after multiple incidents of reckless, unauthorized violence, Hetty had furiously yanked him from the case.
She told him there was someone else he had to live for now.
Maybe she had known all along.
Callen was quickly torn from his thoughts as he heard familiar footsteps approaching.
"Six years," he said without turning around.
"Six years," repeated the familiar voice behind him.
Callen sighed angrily. "How did they find her, Hetty?" he demanded. "We hid her so well."
Hetty bowed her head almost ashamedly. For once, the little lady had no answer for him.
Six years ago, she had been fully responsible for hiding Callen and Kensi's daughter from the Russian agents. On the day when they had ambushed her team, there was a good reason why they thought Kensi's baby had died with her. No one should have survived that car crash. But as Kensi had rapidly slipped away from them, even Hetty could not explain the miracle that had allowed her daughter to survive.
As the premature child was pulled from her dying mother, Callen had made his decision. With a heavy heart, Hetty had devised a backstopping so deep that the little girl's lineage could never be traced back to Callen or Kensi. She had found a new home. She had found new parents. She had meddled with the birth certificate. And she had probably taken other questionable action along the way, too.
But it had been a necessity. After Kensi's death, Hetty had watched her team of agents crumble around her. She hadn't replaced Agent Blye, knowing that no replacement would have been accepted, and she had taken a lot of heat for that decision from Director Vance. But after she had watched her Navy SEAL beat the hell out of the punching bag upstairs, her LAPD liaison mope around like a lost puppy, and her special agent in charge tear apart Los Angeles in furious vengeance, Hetty knew that she had made the right decision.
~*~o~*~
"Go home, Mr. Callen," Hetty commanded.
Callen shook his head. "Nothing left for me there."
Hetty watched sadly as Callen gulped a shot of liquor and swallowed hard, letting the liquid burn his throat on the way down.
"This is what they wanted," Hetty pointed out. "They wanted you to suffer."
"I'm not suffering," Callen replied.
Hetty raised an eyebrow.
"To suffer, you have to feel something—"
"And you don't feel anything anymore," Hetty finished. She nodded in understanding. "Mr. Callen, you know that it is when my agents stop feeling that I begin to worry."
Callen didn't reply. With a blank expression in his eyes, he placed an empty glass on his desk and picked up the bottle to pour. He looked at Hetty expectantly.
"Oh, hell." Hetty sighed. "Better make it a double."
~*~o~*~
Hetty quickly pulled herself from the memories and studied Callen carefully. "You've been waiting for this for a long time," she said softly.
"Six years." Callen looked over at the little lady, and she could see the pleading in his eyes. "Hetty, if you take me off this case again..."
She held up her hand to silence him. She wasn't going to argue anymore. With a heavy sigh, Hetty nodded her head in surrender. "Sam and Deeks are already there," she said simply.
Callen cocked his head in surprise, and he almost seemed to hesitate. He looked at Hetty questioningly.
"We're throwing protocol out the proverbial damn window," she explained. "Because Mr. Callen..." Her voice grew soft. "Your daughter needs you."
"No place like home," Deeks commented as he and Sam pulled into the driveway of Breanna's house.
Breanna grinned as she hopped out of the car and skipped up the stone walkway. Her house did indeed have a cozy, inviting appearance. It was a soft pastel color, clean and well-kept, with several flower boxes adorning a pretty bay window.
"Breanna?" a voice called from inside.
"Mommy!"
As the little girl ran to the front door, a short, plump blond woman rushed out and enveloped Breanna in a big hug. "Oh, Breanna, where have you been? I was so worried when the school said they couldn't find you. I just got off the phone with them—"
"I was with Sam and Deeks," Breanna explained innocently.
At that point, the woman suddenly noticed the two agents following her daughter.
Sam nodded politely. "Special Agent Sam Hanna, Detective Marty Deeks, we're with NCIS."
"Um, Elizabeth Johnson," the woman said in surprise. "What's going on?"
"Honey, is that Breanna?"
Elizabeth turned at the voice calling from inside the house. "Outside, Michael," she said.
Her husband stepped out of the house, and Breanna bounded into his arms.
"Hey, sweetheart, where have you been?"
"With Sam and Deeks!" Breanna repeated.
Michael looked at his wife worriedly. "Honey, what's wrong? Who are these people?"
"NCIS."
Sam nodded. "Mr. and Mrs. Johnson," he said, "we'd like to ask you a few questions about some men who were seen near your house yesterday. You and Breanna may be in danger—"
Sam suddenly stopped. He didn't like the familiar ominous feeling that was creeping up the back of his neck. He eyed the street warily as a single black car coasted up to the curb near the house and multiple other cars pulled up behind it. His uneasiness quickly turned to alarm as several men in dark sunglasses and trenchcoats emerged from each vehicle.
"We got company."
"You gotta be kidding me," Deeks muttered next to him. "Again?"
"Inside!" Sam yelled.
Before they could even blink, he and Deeks shoved Breanna and her parents inside the house, knocking them to the ground as the first round of bullets sprayed through the bay window. He heard Breanna's mother scream as the glass shattered and colorful flower petals catapulted through the air.
Heavy footsteps rushed into the house, and Sam quickly flipped himself over towards the doorway and fired across the room. Deeks slid across the hardwood floor, firing from another tough angle on the ground. The two of them together were fast and accurate, and their bullets took several of their attackers by surprise, their weapons clattering to the floor before their lifeless bodies followed.
"Sam, behind you!"
Sam had managed to scramble to his feet, and he barely heard Deeks' warning before a pair of strong arms wrapped around his throat. He angrily slammed his assailant into the wall and thrust an elbow into his face. The man stumbled backwards and didn't have time to recover before Sam delivered a fatal round of shots to his heart.
"Deeks, get down!"
Another round of fire came blasting through the front window, and Sam dove for cover behind an old recliner, as Deeks slid under the coffee table just in time. Elizabeth and Michael remained huddled behind the couch, and Sam held Breanna tightly behind the chair.
"Where are they coming from?" Deeks yelled.
"Don't know...got any ideas?"
"Actually I was hoping you'd have some!"
Sam and Deeks suddenly heard another car door slam outside. Shots blasted against the hood of the car, and there was some muffled yelling and then another violent round of gunfire.
"More of them?" Deeks groaned.
"Gonna have to take 'em through the front door," Sam hissed.
"You want to open the front door?"
"I got you covered."
"Me? Don't you think a former Navy SEAL would be a better choice—"
"Just do it, Deeks!"
Taking a deep breath, Deeks scrambled out from underneath the coffee table and quickly crawled to the front door.
Sam rose from behind the chair and aimed his gun. He looked over at Deeks, mouthing the countdown.
One. Deeks nodded.
Two. He reached for the doorknob.
Three. The door swung open.
A dark figure stood in the entrance, Sam's gun aimed at him, his gun aimed at Sam, their fingers hovering over the triggers.
Both of them lowered their weapons simultaneously.
"Nice of you to drop in," Sam muttered.
"Thought you'd be happier to see me." Callen gave his partner a sly smile as he stepped over the threshold.
"We had it under control."
"Who? You and Deeks? Yeah, I could tell—"
Callen suddenly broke off as his gaze fell upon Breanna peeking out from behind the chair. He felt his breath catch in his throat, and the little girl seemed equally stunned as her icy blue eyes met their own reflection. Even Sam felt his heart constrict as he saw father and daughter side-by-side for the first time.
"Breanna," he said softly. "This is—"
"Callen."
Sam shot Callen a questioning look, but his partner refused to meet his eyes.
"Just Callen."
"G—"
But Sam didn't get a chance to argue. Another armed man stepped up in front of the house and cocked his gun.
Callen didn't even blink. He whirled around in the doorway and fired. The bullet slammed into the man's shoulder, and he collapsed to the ground with a loud shriek.
Both Sam and Callen rushed forward, their weapons drawn. The man lay convulsing on the driveway, his teeth clenched in pain, his other hand clutching his bleeding shoulder.
"You'll live," Sam told him, roughly wrenching the man's arms behind his back and slapping handcuffs on him.
"You think he'll be in a condition to talk?" Callen asked.
"Hope so…since the rest of them aren't in a condition to breathe."
Just then, another shot rang out from inside the house.
"Drop the weapon!" Deeks yelled.
With their suspect secure, Callen and Sam bolted back into the living room to find the LAPD cop facing off against another masked man. The two of them drew their weapons and swiftly moved into position at Deeks' side.
"He came out of nowhere, Callen," Deeks explained quickly. "Didn't see him."
Michael lay unconscious on the floor, and the man was holding Elizabeth hostage, his arm tightly clamped around her throat, his gun held to the side of her head. The woman whimpered in fear, her entire body trembling as the man roughly jerked her backwards.
"Let her go," Sam threatened in a low voice.
"Where is the girl?" the man demanded. When he received no response, he growled angrily. "Do you want me to kill her mother?" he asked. An evil, knowing smile spread across his lips as he looked directly at Callen. "Again?"
"No!"
They were all startled to hear Breanna's cry from behind the chair. Without hesitation, the little girl launched herself onto the man's shoulders, clawing at him furiously. He laughed and easily swung Breanna to the side with one arm, grabbing her around the waist instead. She pounded on his ribcage, kicking her legs and squirming against him, but she was no match for a full-grown man who held her fast.
The man glanced back at the three agents with a satisfied smirk. "We will be waiting for you, Agent Callen," he said. He suddenly released his grip from around Elizabeth's neck, shoving her to the floor, and he hoisted Breanna into his arms, pulling a small, round object from his pocket.
"Get down!" Sam yelled.
The masked man thrust the hissing smoke bomb into the middle of the room, and Callen took his only opportunity for a clear shot. He fired off a rapid round of bullets as the grenade exploded, releasing several blasts of thick black smoke into the air. Callen hit the ground as the smoke engulfed him, and he heard his shots ricochet harmlessly off the wall. He swore he could also hear the masked man laughing evilly as he and Breanna disappeared behind the dark, foggy cloud.
"Stay here!" Callen yelled at Sam and Deeks.
Coughing hard and wiping the tears from his eyes, Callen blindly felt his way through the smoky house. His lungs were already burning from the lack of oxygen, and he stumbled hard as his fingers grasped for the doorknob, yanking the door open.
By the time he emerged on the street, the man was gone. By the time Sam appeared at his side, Callen had lowered his gun and was simply staring into the distance.
"G?" Sam could not understand why his partner hadn't taken the car and picked up the chase.
"That's what he wants," Callen said. "He wants me to chase him."
"And?"
"And we're not gonna do it that way."
Callen turned abruptly and strode back into the house. Sam followed.
"LAPD is on their way," Deeks reported. "Paramedics, too."
Callen nodded. The air in the living room was still a little hazy, but most of the smoke had cleared surprisingly quickly. He saw that Michael was now sitting upright on the couch, holding his head.
"You okay, sir?"
"I'm fine," Michael said bravely, although he looked quite shaken up. "The guy caught me completely by surprise."
"What is going on?" Elizabeth demanded. "Who are these people?"
"Russian secret operatives," Callen replied calmly.
"Russian what? Who—what could they possibly want with Breanna?"
Elizabeth's voice was panic-stricken, and her eyes were watering dangerously. When she suddenly burst into tears, Michael quickly wrapped his arms around her in comfort. "Oh, Michael, why couldn't she just have stayed hidden behind the chair?" she sobbed.
"Elizabeth, she was trying to save you," Michael murmured softly. "She heard the man's threat and thought she could stop him."
"She's always been that way," Elizabeth explained tearfully. "She doesn't think before she acts. She's fearless. Goes off and does these dangerous things all on her own."
Sam leaned slightly closer to Callen. "Wonder where she gets that," he said, only loud enough for his partner to hear.
Callen ignored him. "Did you recognize any of them?" he asked.
"No," Michael said. "We've never seen them before."
"Why do they even want her?" Elizabeth asked again, her voice bordering on hysterics now. "She's just a little girl."
"They won't hurt her," Callen insisted. "She's too valuable to them."
"How can you be so sure?" Elizabeth argued. "Oh, God, we have to do something."
"We'll find her. LAPD will be here for you in a few minutes."
"You can't just ask us to sit here!"
"I'm not asking," Callen growled.
Elizabeth shot him a deadly look. "Obviously you don't know what it's like to have a daughter, Agent Callen."
Callen's jaw tightened. "No," he said coldly. "No, I don't."