Hello there! I honestly didn't expect to be writing again quite so soon, but here I am. There have been a lot of ideas floating around in my head, and I've just been having some trouble making them come out on paper. I think this is finally starting to resemble a story, though, so please bear with me as I try to hammer it out. I hope you like it, and please review if you have a minute. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!


4:18 AM. Kensi Blye lay in bed, staring at the bright red numbers on her alarm clock. She had been watching the minutes tick by for some time now, and she was still wide awake. She sighed and rolled over restlessly, crumpling the edge of her lavender comforter in her fists. She didn't know why she couldn't sleep. It had been a tough week with triple homicides, multiple crime scene investigations, and round-the-clock undercover surveillance. There had also been certain other physical activities that had kept her awake late into the night. She was tired, and she should have been sound asleep, but for some reason, she couldn't shake a very uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

As she rolled over again, Kensi finally gave up. She pushed back her comforter and let it fall softly onto the other side of the bed. She didn't want to keep tossing and turning, so she reached for her robe and quietly padded over to the window.

It had been a clear night in Los Angeles, and the first colors of the sunrise were just starting to swirl along the skyline. The shift from night to day cast shadowy silhouettes against the buildings, and Kensi could hear the dull roar of traffic on the road already.

She remained by the window for some time, just thinking and watching the city wake up outside her window. It would be time to head to work soon. Suddenly, she felt a chilly breeze against her skin, and she shivered and pulled her robe tighter around herself. It was an odd feeling on what promised to be a sunny, mild morning, and she knew that it stemmed from the strange anxiety inside of her.

Completely lost in her thoughts, Kensi jumped as the sharp ring of a cell phone cut through the early morning silence.

"Callen," she heard him answer groggily. There was a pause, and then, "All right, I'm coming."

Callen clicked the phone off and buried his head under the pillow.

Kensi smiled. She knew it was Sam, telling him not to be late picking him up for work. "You better get moving," she said with a grin.

She heard the muffled groan from underneath the pillow, and then with greatly exaggerated effort, Callen flung back the comforter and stood up. "Sam needs to be more patient."

Kensi moved away from the windowsill, walking over to the other side of the bed and stopping in front of him. "Maybe his partner needs to be more on time," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Callen rubbed a hand over his sleepy eyes and blinked. "You're real funny," he muttered.

"Yeah?" Kensi challenged, taking a step closer.

"Yeah," he whispered, capturing her lips with his.

The sensation of Callen's kiss would never cease to amaze Kensi. Somehow his lips could wash away all of her fears and uneasy feelings. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss and held him close. For some reason, she didn't want to let him go this morning. But when they finally broke apart, she motioned toward the clock on the nightstand. "You're going to be late," she pointed out.

Callen rolled his eyes, and Kensi couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face as he pulled on his clothes and headed out the door.

With her mind still reeling from his kiss, Kensi vaguely registered the sound of her phone ringing this time. Certain that it was Sam calling to ask for a ride when Callen got stuck in traffic, she answered it. "Kensi," she said.

"Hola, querida."

It was definitely not Sam.