Ziva progressively raised her head as her new red Nationals baseball cap slid further and further down her forehead. She couldn't fix it, as her hands were currently full. "Why did we pay eight dollars apiece for beer when there is a case you left in my refrigerator?"

"Sixteen, since we both got two. Besides, I bought this round." Tony grinned, tipping the bill of his matching cap upwards with one plastic cup, leaving a trace of foam along the edge. "I think this is our row. It's too bad that more people don't come to the park, but when you can walk in off the street and get seats this good…" He plopped down in a seat, sloshing beer over the rims of both cups. "Whoops."

She carefully set her own full cups down and was finally able to push her cap out of her eyes. "Why did you insist we buy these hats?"

"So everyone will know we're DC people!"

"I had my NCIS hat in the car."

"Not the same. Besides, you'd look like a dork wearing an NCIS hat at a ballgame. That sounds like something McGeek would do." He suddenly grabbed her hat off her head and began to bend the brim.

"What are you doing? That is brand new."

"Yeah, which is why you have to roll the brim. You can't just leave it flat like you were. Consider this lesson number one about being a baseball fan – you gotta fit in." He pushed the cap back onto her head. "There, much better."

She took it off and rearranged her hair before replacing it. She had to admit, whatever he had done had made it more comfortable. "Are these even the correct hats? Everyone else seems to have blue ones with a 'C' on them."

He glanced around. "Yeah, Cubs fans. They travel well."

"So the Nationals are playing the Cubs today?"

"Yup. Just fair warning – watch out for any drunken Chicago people as we get toward the later innings."

"How will I know they are from Chicago?"

"The Cubs fans, Ziva. Try to keep up. Not that they're any worse than other rabid fans, just keep an eye out if Chicago's down, since they're mainly here to see the Nats lose."

"They are going to lose?"

"No…maybe. I don't know. That's why they play the game."

"Oh." She decided to forget about the apparent politics of being a baseball fan and focus on the game, but it had not yet started. She frowned as she noticed the only man currently stretching on the field did not have what she would have called a professional athlete's physique. "At least we will have an excellent view when the game begins."

"Don't be so impatient. Just soak up the atmosphere." He held out a bag. "Have some peanuts."

"Thank you." The shell cracked between her fingers with a satisfying crunch. "What am I supposed to…"

"You're at a ballgame!" He swatted at her hand, causing her to drop the shell with the peanut still inside. "Toss 'em on the ground! That's baseball fan lesson number two."

She reached down and picked the shell out of one of her beers. "So the goal is to be as rude as possible?"

"Only where trash is involved, which includes trash talking. Say whatever you want when the other team is at bat. Just, y'know, watch out for…well, not that they'll be able to do anything to you, but…I forgot where I was going with this. I hope the vendors start coming by soon. I could use a hot dog."

"After all that bacon you had this morning?"

"That was hours ago!" He dropped a handful of peanut shells, narrowly avoiding her other beer. "Besides, it's Independence Day. Hot dogs are practically the law."

She wanted to ask if they were kosher, but as Tony had just managed to flag down a vendor, she held her tongue. One hot dog wouldn't kill her. She considered reevaluating that stance after the second bite. After washing it down with a long swig of beer, she asked, "Why are these so popular?"

"They're…well, these aren't, but usually they're damn good. Next time I'll take you to Camden Yards and we'll get Boog's BBQ."

She finished off her hot dog by hiding it under her seat amid the peanut shells. "This game has not even started and you are already planning to go to another?"

"Well, not today." He didn't move his arm from the back of her seat when she leaned back. "But I've got a good feeling about this one."

Ziva leaned heavily on Tony's arm as they crossed 1st toward the Navy Yard. He'd insisted on making very good friends with the beer vendor in their section and she hadn't realized what was happening until it was a little too late. It was the fault of the hot dog she could still feel sitting heavily in her stomach, she was sure of it. And her hand hurt.

"Whoo!" Tony took of his cap and waved it over his head at a large group of fellow fans they passed on the sidewalk. They cheered when he held up the large chunk of splintered wood he had been toting since they left their seats at the game. He turned back toward her, cap now askew on his head. "Ziva, wave to the people!"

She reluctantly complied and they cheered even louder. "I do not see what the big deal is."

"Uh, you caught the head of a shattered bat in your bare hand! Now while it's true that you did it to preserve the national treasure that is my face, it's still pretty damn impressive."

"Just a reflex," she said with a shrug, swaying slightly.

He grabbed her hand and raised it over their heads as he displayed the broken bat to another group of passing fans to draw another round of cheers. "See how popular you are? Bet you make SportsCenter."

She groaned quietly and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other.

He continued to wave at people with the piece of wood. "I tell ya, nothing beats a walk-off, except maybe catching a chuck of bat. Whattya wanna do next? Head over and see what's happening on the Mall?"

"Tony, I think I need to sit down and…" Oh, God. The Mall was blocks away. Why did he even want to go there? Was it something related to being a baseball fan? Lesson eighty-eight? If you caught a bat you had to show as many people as possible? She suddenly saw an unoccupied bench and made a lunge toward it. "I just want to sit down for a bit."

"Hey, that's fine. No need to yank my shoulder from the socket." He sat beside her and stretched his feet out. "Aaaah."

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. She just needed a few minutes to relax and collect her thoughts. A few minutes and she would be…just…fine…

"Hey, Ziva? Ziva!"

"Hm?"

"Are we just gonna sit on this bench all night?"

"We just sat down."

"Yeah, fifteen minutes ago. You were falling asleep on me."

"I was not."

"Please. There's been a steady stream of people walking past me and the bat and I've been going on about the best baseball movies since you put your head down. I figured out you weren't listening when I did my 'luckiest man on the face of the earth' speech and…" He reached over to push her hair behind her ear. "Well, next ballgame we'll just have to watch your drinking."

"I am not drunk. I am just tired."

"Aw, you gonna be able to stay up for the fireworks, sleepyhead? Will I have to carry you back to the car?"

"I told you, I am not…"

"Hey, me neither, but I'm definitely buzzed, so that limits our options."

She would have characterized the feeling as fuzzed rather than buzzed, but saw no point in arguing. "Options?"

"We can't go anywhere that requires driving, at least not for a couple hours and I spent all my cab fare on ballpark food. If you wanna go nap under your desk until it's time for the fireworks…I figured we can watch them from the roof at the office and we can't have you falling through the skylight, so…"

She looked over her shoulder and realized that he wasn't just babbling; they were sitting right outside the Navy Yard. The thought of curling up in a safe place for a few hours was tempting, but… "I do not want anyone in the office to think…anything."

"Fat chance." He smirked. "We could go grab some dinner."

"I do not want to think about food right now."

"Yeah, I'm kinda full, too. Ugh, definitely rethinking the funnel cake. Man, it was so good, though."

Ziva yawned and stretched her arms over her head. She was about to see how standing up felt. "What time is it?"

"Just before five."

Standing went well. She took a tentative step, then another. This could work. "Where shall we go?"

"Not for cocktails, I'm guessing."

"The weather is nice. We could walk around for a bit."

Tony pushed himself off the bench and sauntered over to where she was standing. "Says the woman who was ready to pass out on a bench on the sidewalk a few minutes ago."

"How about coffee, then?"

"Now you're talking sense. Coffee, then dinner, then fireworks." He saluted her with the bat. "But we have to go somewhere where my bat won't be considered a threat."