Tony inhaled deeply. Ahhh. He really did love this time of year. The decorations, traditions, movies and not to mention the delicious coffee. Delicious, delicious coffee. Mmmm. Whoever thought of putting cinnamon into coffee was a genius.

Okay, granted, it was cinnamon flavoured syrup but still. It tasted absolutely amazing in his morning coffee. Just the sort of zing he needed; you know what he meant? Well, not too much of a zing. He had done that before, asked for a bit (okay, a lot) too much syrup in his half-asleep daze and that had been one way to wake up that morning. Not the most pleasant but definitely one way to wake up. He was pretty sure that that particular mixture had burnt a strip off his tongue. It was still feeling a bit tender. Warm coffee didn't really help that but hey, it was cinnamon coffee and worth all the discomfort.

"One for you," he passed his partner her flavoured tea.

He supposed cinnamon tea was good too. It didn't hold a candle to his coffee but whatever. It was the second day of this case and needed more conventional methods of warming up, it was still freezing outside. Actually, he was pretty sure it was getting colder. The bonfire from yesterday having burnt out. Which was a shame but they had collected all the evidence they could from around said bonfire yesterday, using it as an excuse to stay close to the heat. So, what if they moved a bit slower than usual? They just wanted to be careful, you know. Not mess anything up. And stay nice and warm while they were at it.

Speaking of staying warm, Ziva revelled in the warmth of her tea cup before she did anything with it, taking advantage of its capabilities to heat her hands for a brief moment before the need for caffeine kicked in.

"Mmm," she hummed, taking a long sip.

"Good?"

"Definitely. I do not understand why this is not year-round."

Tony shook his head, smiling. "Not everyone has your cinnamon addiction."

"It is not an addiction, Tony. It is just my favourite flavour."

"Addiction."

She narrowed her eyes at him which would usually make him snap his mouth shut but there was too big an opportunity to have fun here.

"It is not!"

"Ziva, Ziva, Ziva," he said patronisingly, shaking his head at her. "The first step to overcoming a problem is admitting that you have a problem."

"Which I do not have."

"Oh, but you do. And I am here to help you with it."

How he was supposed to help he wasn't sure. Forcibly removing cinnamon from Ziva was definitely not a good idea if a person valued their life (and he did). Not that he was really being serious here. He was pretty sure she didn't have an addiction (could you really have a diagnosed addiction to cinnamon?) but she certainly loved it more than anyone he knew and that was enough for him to tease her about it.

"I do not need help!"

"This is progress, you're admitting you have a problem," he said encouragingly.

Oh, he knew that he was risking getting her tea flung all over him but, like he said before, he was having way too much fun.

"I do not have a problem. I just happen to like cinnamon."

"Obsess over it," Tony coughed.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy the things that I like?" She asked, pointedly ignoring his little interruption.

"Of course, you are. What kind of question is that? Of course, unless you like murdering people then I'm pretty sure that people frown on you enjoying that."

"Tony!" She said in exasperation.

"Ziva, you always have everything cinnamon you possibly can have in your flat." He said, rolling his eyes and started counting off his fingers. "Cake, bread, syrup, tea, coffee, butter, sticks - which are just weird by the way, how can you just munch on them like that? And then there the cinnamon rolls, honey - I didn't know you couldn't ever get that, cereal - which doesn't make than bran cereal taste better by the way, candles, cookies, porridge and I even saw you chew away on cinnamon gum. Come on! How were you not breathing fire when you had that? Oh, you have cinnamon as a spice to add to whatever you please too."

What do you know, he ran out of fingers. And she really did have all of that. Maybe not always at the same time but most of it! See? If that wasn't a cinnamon addiction, he didn't know what was.

That earned him a huff from her.

"I'm just surprised you haven't got cinnamon ice cream," he continued.

She perked up at that. "You can get cinnamon ice cream?"

He gave her a look.

"It is not a problem!" She insisted.

"Uh huh."

"Cinnamon is warming!" She said triumphantly as they left the hotel. "Which makes it the perfect thing to counteract the cold weather. So, it is not a problem to have it all the time. It is smart!"

He rolled his eyes at her. Technically she was right. Technically.

"I wouldn't go as far to say that it's smart..."

"Are you not warmer now than before your drink?" She demanded.

"Well, yes-"

"Then it worked!"

"I'm warm because it's a hot drink," he argued. "Which keeps you warm."

"And so does cinnamon," she nodded. "So, combining that with a hot drink is the best thing you can do to warm yourself up."

"Sure, Sweetcheeks, whatever you say."

"It is also very good to throw into someone's face if you want to get away quickly. It burns, you see."

That made him stop and stare at her, blocking the pavement, much to the annoyance of pedestrians.

"I'm pretty sure that's chemical warfare, Ziva."

She shrugged, unconcerned. "It works."

What sort of situation did she have to be in that she had to resort to cinnamon as a weapon?

"You don't have any of it on you right now, do you?" He asked anxiously.