They had started like they had for the past several Tuesdays. Up the sidewalk, through the woods, across the school yard and into the park.
Somewhere along the way, however, they had diverged and now kept to one of the nature walking trails, the moon guiding their way.
Their pace, had also slowed considerably and now they strolled instead of running.
She occasionally would edge into his personal space, bump his shoulder with her own.
He would occasionally drop behind, find a pine-cone, and lob it at her ass.
She knew each time what was gong to happen. And the majority of the time, she would wave a hand behind her, flinging the cone away before it made contact.
But once or twice, she allowed herself to be hit, turning and – feigning indignation – pouncing on the laughing Tony.
They'd chase each other for a few steps, he would allow her to catch him, and she'd find some way to torment him for a few moments before they both chuckled and resumed their stroll.
"I would go running every Tuesday on the ship," he supplied, out of the blue.
She merely nodded.
Tony shrugged. "It felt right. Keeping tradition."
She nodded again. "I went several times when I was in Tel-Aviv, as well. It was a nice way to break up my week."
"Our movie selection stunk, though," he added. "The Naked Gun is not my idea of a good film. And seeing it every other week for a month – let's just say that I missed our movie nights."
Ziva snickered, knowing his passion for classic films lead to an extreme distaste for poorly done spoofs. "I did, as well, Tony," she admitted.
They strolled a few more steps before he spoke again. "Thanks for Bogart, the other night. You are a fantastic date, Ms. David."
Her eyes widened slightly as his use of the word 'date.' But she smiled and nodded, hoping the moonlight hid her slight blush. "I had a good time, too. We should do it again soon, yes?"
A delighted chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Next Tuesday?"
"No," she replied. "I have plans on Tuesday."
"Oh." There was little he could do to hide the hurt and surprise in his voice. He tried to throw on his jovial tone and lightly bumped her shoulder with his. "Who's the lucky guy?"
"For Tuesday?" her voice was serious, yet coy. "Tuesday, my best friend and I have plans. We go running. It is the highlight of my week."
He blinked.
Ziva continued. "But I believe I am free on Friday."
She watched his face, noting his expressions change as he processed her words.
"Friday it is."