No Ordinary Love - G.Callen NCIS L.A

Chapter 54

Christmas morning came and Grisha sneaked out of bed early to prepare breakfast. He hadn't felt this excited for Christmas morning in... ever. And he couldn't wait to show Dee his gift. So, half an hour later, he walked up the few steps to their bedroom, carefully balancing a tray with fruit, tea and toast. Setting it on the bedside table, he carefully sank down next to her on the bed, not really wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber. Pushing hair out of her face, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Dee?"

Oh, he got that she wasn't awake yet. She had, together with Jess, worked on prepping Christmas dinner late into last night. But he was ready to open presents. He tried again. "Dee? Time to wake up, Christmas morning has arrived..."

It made her stir, and she leisurely stretched limbs and blinked her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven thirty."

She grinned and turned her head to him, fully opening her eyes now. "That is really early on a Christmas morning, Grisha."

"I know." He pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I'm not asking you to get out of bed, yet. I've brought you breakfast."

"In bed? You spoil me."

"That's my job."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Dee pushed herself to a sitting position and yawned. "Okay, I'm up."

Grisha pulled the tray closer and handed her tea. "Fruit first? Or toast?"

"Toast, please, when it's still warm. Have you brought marmalade?"

"No, but I'll go get it." In under a minute he was back and settled next to her. "Are you excited?"

"For Christmas? Always." Her smile grew wider as she looked at him. "I don't have to ask you, do I? You're always up early, but this is weekend early, even for you."

"I know." He popped a piece of fruit into his mouth. "First time that I'm excited for Christmas morning in ever. Sorry."

Taking a bite of her toast, she shook her head. "Don't be. It's great to see you so excited."

They finished breakfast in relative silence, Dee trying to wake up after a rather short night. When the food had been gone, and she was slowly sipping a cup of tea, he returned with her present. "I know we said we weren't going to do presents this year, but there is something that I want to give you anyway."

Surprise etched her fact as she took the roll from him. "You don't think you've given me enough, this past year?" Slowly, she untied the ribbon and unrolled the documents, scanning through them. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at him. "You didn't."

"I did." It sounded calmer than he felt.

"You've handed in your resignation? Why?"

"Because it's time."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. "Why?" she asked again. "I know you told me that you were going to be done with it, at some point... But, this is..."

"Earlier than you expected?"

"Yeah."

"Well..." He shifted his position. "That last case where Nell got hurt put some things in perspective for me. I've been doing this for twenty years, Dee, and I'm getting older. If we're going to do this whole marriage and kids thing, you deserve to have me home at a decent hour and not worry about me returning hurt, if at all."

"That's not all."

Didn't he know it. "It's time somebody else takes responsibility for the safety of the world. I've done it long enough. Garrison is here, Hetty is settling down, retiring, I just want the responsibility for my family. Besides, as you know, Marty and Kensi are getting out as well. It'll be good for the Team of Special Operations to start anew. They'll have Sam's experience to follow. It just won't be my responsibility anymore."

Studying him, she tilted her head. "And you're good with that?"

"I'm perfectly happy with that. No more looking over our shoulders, we won't have to update the alarm system every three months, we get to live a quiet, peaceful life. At least until the Deekses ask us to baby sit."

Dee chuckled. "Have you thought about what you want to do?"

"Not yet. I'll help you get Indulge back on its feet, plan a wedding, then we'll see."

"You're going to plan our wedding?"

"Why not?" he shrugged. "Once we finally settle on a date, when there's surely something to plan."

"I want that in paper, somewhere. I'll just hand it over to you, and just worry about my dress and show up."

Pulling her close, he snickered. "Done."

Leaning in, she pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth. "Thank you," she murmured. "I bet letting go of your job was not easy."

"Honestly, it's one of the easiest decisions I've ever made," he confessed. "It's not effective immediately: I've given Hetty time to find a new team leader before I disappear, and she retires as well."

"You're all going to have a different life."

"We are."

"So maybe my present was perfect timing after all." Reaching over, she handed him a rectangle box, which, as he took it from her, felt heavier than he had expected.

He stuck his tongue out. "We weren't going to do presents."

"You were the first one to break that rule," she pointed out. "Open it."

It was a mason jar filled with post it notes. There was no label. Frowning, he looked up at her. "Are you going to keep me guessing?"

"Take one."

Screwing the top off, he took a post it. "The Getty Center."

"Have you ever been?" she asked.

"No," he had to admit. "Then again, I've never had the time to plan tourist, so there are a lot of things I haven't seen."

"Then it's a good thing that I've filled this jar with touristy date ideas. The Getty, Knott's Berry Farm, the Queen Mary, the Zoo... We're going to do all dumb touristy things as soon as you're allowed out in the open."

It already had him excited. "I like that."

Later that night, after dinner, Garrison took him aside. "Grisha, there is one final thing I want to give you."

Grisha set his beer aside on the bar, brows knit in confusion. "We weren't doing presents."

Garrison waved him off. "We weren't. I know that. But you've given me the house this last year, and you've allowed me to be here, to be part of your life... I've kept this in a safe place, but I feel that you should have it."

Taking the present from his father, Grisha carefully tore the paper off. When the actual present came in sight, he closed his eyes, not prepared for the onslaught of emotions. "Where... What..."

Garrison swallowed. "This is the last surviving picture of the four of us," he softly said in Russian. "It's the only one I could save. I would've given it to you this afternoon, but it was not ready." He paused. "She would be so proud of you, Grisha. I am so proud of you. Merry Christmas."

The tears he wanted to swallow came anyway as he trailed the photo with his fingers. "You don't know what this means to me," he choked. His eyes found his fiancée without effort, and his hand reached for her as she approached, concern imprinted on her beautiful features.

"What is it?" she whispered. Silently, he showed her and immediately, her face softened. "Oh..."

Grisha handed her the picture and wrapped his father in a tight hug. "спасибо папе. спасибо папе."