December 25, 2012

She wakes Christmas morning to an empty bed.

It's not unheard of. Since Jack's return she's barely woken to him beside her. The PTSD is brutal for his sleep patterns. She's used to it. It sucks, but she's used to it.

With a sigh she pulls herself out of bed, throwing off the sheets and blankets. She pads down the hall. He's not in the living room.

"Jack?"

The kitchen is empty too. Her heart leaps to her throat.

No.

Just no.

She starts to get frantic, looks through all the closets – sometimes the enclosed spaces make him feel safe. She can't count the number of times she's found him just standing in the shower – and races around the yard. She can't find him. Can't find him anywhere.

She races back in the bedroom and that's where she finds it. Unassuming, settled gently on his pillow. She can already feel the tears welling up in her throat.

No.

Not again.

Not Jack too.

But sure enough, it's a note.

Kensi,
I can't do this. I'm broken, sweetheart. I can't live a normal life. I can't sleep, I barely eat, I can't stop seeing the enemy in every person I meet, in every sound I hear.
I'm going back to Montana. But Kensi, it's not you. It's never been you. You have been there, every step of the way, every moment, every single step since I got back. And I can't drag you down anymore. Not you.
You've been through so much already and I love you. I love you so much.
And that's why I need to let you go.
I love you, Kensi.

There are tears staining the note when she finishes, her chest is heaving. She can't breathe, she can barely think.

He's gone.

Just like her father.

She sobs, hard and long. She's not sure how long she cries she just knows her eyes are sore and her cheeks itch like crazy from the dried salt water. When she doesn't think she can cry anymore she pulls herself from the bed, the bed they shared, and heads into the bathroom. She scrubs her face until her eyes catch on the diamond on her hand. She hiccups again, can feel the tears she thought she'd cried welling up again. So she tears it off her finger and shoves it in a dresser drawer on the way by.

Then, systematically, she dismantles Christmas.

She doesn't think she'll be celebrating anymore.

They say it takes three weeks to make a habit.

When Kensi wakes on December 25th, stretching in the pool of sunlight spreading over her bed, she thinks that maybe there's some merit in the theory. Three weeks ago, at the beginning of December, Kensi couldn't imagine feeling calm and even content on Christmas Day. But those are exactly the feelings she associates with the warmth threading through her veins. A smile blossoms over her face as she turns her head into her pillow. It's an involuntary action.

Happy.

On Christmas.

It's the darkest holiday for her. It always has been. Other holidays like Thanksgiving are just food holidays, holidays she can spend with the team and not feel the loneliness of not having family. But Christmas – There's just always been too much. Jack's departure and her father's death… It's just different.

But instead, she's smiling. She wants to get up, to start the day. She wants to smile and laugh and stare at her tree. She wants to watch Christmas movies, listen to carols –

"Morning."

And she wants to do it with Callen.

She pushes herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her bedhead. "Morning. How long have you been up?"

"Long enough," he replies, stepping into the room. He's carrying two mugs and she holds her hand out, murmuring her thanks as he slides the ceramic into her grip. Her eyes flutter closed as she takes her first sip.

He's already leaning in as she lowers the mug. She barely manages to place her coffee on the bedside table before his mouth meets hers. Her hand rises to his cheek, brushing over his temple, across the roughness of his buzzed head. She rests it against the back of his head, against his neck, He shifts, presses, and she slides back down to the pillows. His hand support himself by her head – she doesn't even think about where his coffee's gone, she barely has the brain power – while her free arm slides around his waist.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs when the kiss parts naturally.

Her smile is an echo of his, no hidden darkness. It makes her wonder if maybe his Christmas hasn't been so bad either. She doesn't think so, at any rate. He's been with her the whole time, and she's pretty sure he hasn't been faking his smiles. He looks content, like he could just lounge in her bed with her all day.

Eventually, she looks over and murmurs, "Thank you."

"It's just a coffee, Kens."

She rolls her eyes, reaching for her mug again. "I'm not talking about-"

"I know."

She lifts her gaze to his and finds him looking back, enough intensity in those blue eyes to make her body erupt in gooseflesh. He knows exactly what she means.

Still.

"Thank you for Christmas."

"Kens-"

"Callen." She has no idea what it is in her voice that makes him stop but he does, those clear intense blues still fixed on her. "Thank you for Christmas. For celebrating, for sharing. It- It became more than I could have ever expected."

And that's an understatement. She went in to celebrate Christmas, to make it light again. Instead it's more. It's the two of them kissing over cookies, lounging comfortably in her bed, his arms around her while she tries to struggle through the emotions she still associates with the holidays. It's her tree in the living room, the decorations and mistletoe kisses.

"For me too," he tells her softly.

She feels a blush slides up her neck. "It's not just Christmas. It's- It's us."

His hand falls to her thigh and she just barely resists the shiver that drills down her spine at the touch.

"Usually I curl up all day and I don't have a tree or decorations. I barely get out of bed. But this year there's you. And me. And it started with the calendar but we haven't seen it in a while."

"We haven't needed it."

Her smiles is, once again, involuntary. "Yeah."

He smiles too then reaches over to stroke her cheek. "Me too."

Her eyes meet his, focused. "I don't- I don't-"

"I don't want it to end."

"No," she barely manages to breathe, her heart in her throat. They've made leaps and bounds in their relationship and she most definitely doesn't want to let it go either. "It's insane."

"Completely."

"It'll be really stressful."

"Probably."

"We work together."

"Yes."

Thing is though, that doesn't seem to be making a difference in the way he's looking at her. She gets the sense that all of these problems, all of these issues, don't bother him very much at all.

She swallows. "I want to make this work."

"Then let's make it work."

"Yeah?" She can hear the shyness in her voice, feel the butterflies in her stomach.

"Yeah," he affirms, leaning over.

Kensi meets him easy, kissing him back through the grin on her face. It seems to be a permanent fixture on her face but she can't help it. It's her darkest day and yet, it's most certainly becoming a brand new beginning.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

And there you have it folks! Almost an entire year after the first chapter was published I've managed to finish the bloody thing. Just in time too. December first means a whole new Christmas story. And no, before anyone asks, I'm not writing it in NCIS LA again. It's been fun, but bloody painful too.

First and foremost, I owe immeasurable thanks to TwilightPony21. Your unwavering support made this possible when I doubted myself so completely I thought of abandoning the story. I don't have words for how much you've pushed this along, how much your support has meant to me.

Second, to all of you readers out there. You have been terrible and incredibly patient with me. You've let me work at this in my own time, at my own pace and it's turned into this. It made me much happier in my writing and it meant that I am infinitely happier with how this turned out than I could have been. I appreciate it, and I appreciate the way you have stuck with me. You guys make writing worth it, and made battling through this so much better. Especially since this isn't the primary pairing people get out of NCIS LA.

It's been a pleasure.

Keep your eyes out. If I'm lucky, I will be at the very least posting a oneshot over the 2013 holiday season.

Thank you. So much. From the bottom of my heart.