"Seven letters-- Willis's first direction," she muttered, staring at the crossword puzzle in front over.
Tuesday night.
She'd already gone for her run. It was decidedly uneventful and unfulfilling. She'd come home, done her requisite sit ups and stretched to cool down.
She'd taken a shower. Washed her hair. Shaved her legs. Painted her toenails- one of her few female indulgences.
And now she sat in her pajamas on the sofa doing an incredibly frustrating crossword puzzle.
Last Tuesday, she sharpened her knife.
The Tuesday before that, she had gone with Abby to the local Tattoo Parlor and held the younger woman's hand as she added to her tattoo collection with a lovely spider on her hip.
She had managed to leave the parlor ink-free, despite Abby's valiant attempts to convince her to get a small decoration in a discrete location.
It had been ... tempting. But not something she'd do on a whim.
This Tuesday was crossword Tuesday. And she was incredibly bored.
The knock on her door startled her, but that didn't stop her from practically leaping across the room to open the door to any distraction fate might have sent her way.
Her eyes widened. "Tony."
"It's Tuesday," he said simply.
She glanced him up and down quickly, taking in his running attire.
"It is," she agreed, stepping back so he could come inside.
They hadn't been running since before he was shipped off for several months- before Jeanne.
And he showed up, dressed to go for a run, and expected her to be sitting around in her running shoes just waiting for him to appear?
It was infuriating, really.
But she refused to show it.
Ziva closed the door behind him and watched as he bounced on the tips of his toes for a second, loosening his muscles.
"I have already been running tonight, Tony," she said simply.
"Oh," his body language said more than his words ever could have. "Of course you have." He stopped bouncing and flitted his eyes to the walls, the tv, anywhere but to her.
She looked down and took a breath.
"Sit," she ordered, sharply, pointing to the sofa.
She turned and headed to her bedroom, grabbing a pair of jogging shorts and a sports-bra, knowing that repairing her friendship was worth far more than a few extra pieces of laundry and a second shower that night.
She changed quickly and tugged on her favorite shoes. She walked back to the living room, pulling her hair into a ponytail as she did so.
"But I have no doubt that I can still beat you even though I have already done 5 miles today," she said, leaning over the back of the couch and whispering in his ear.
He closed his eyes, the feeling of her whisper on his ear almost too much for him.
"I would expect no less from you, my crazy little ninja chick. Ten miles is nothing for a highly trained Mossad agent," he teased, turning his head slightly towards her, their lips only inches apart.
"I will even give you a head start," she grinned a feral, predatory grin and laughed as he shot off the sofa like a rocket and out the door.
The crossword puzzle will wait, she mused. Tonight is Tuesday.