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“Any big weekend plans, Tony?” McGee asked, already shutting down his computer for the day.
Tony shrugged from his spot at Gibbs’ old desk. It had taken some getting used to, to look up at McGee and find him in the spot he once occupied. The Probie’s desk had another probie in it these days. She was a little uptight, but that was the norm for a probie anyway, so nobody really minded all that much.
“Not really,” he answered, studiously keeping his eyes focused on his monitor. “You?”
“Got a new computer coming in for my gaming setup,” he said, looking far more excited about that than anyone really needed to be.
Tony feigned an interested smile. “Sounds like a blast,” he said, his sarcasm going unnoticed by the younger agent. “Well, get out of here, before I give you more paperwork.”
“Copy that, boss,” McGee said, collecting his bags.
Boss. Still had a nice ring to it.
“Have a good weekend.”
“You too, McGoo,” Tony responded.
As soon as he was gone, Tony began closing up shop at his desk, powering off his computer and flicking the desk lamp off. Playing the part of the one in charge was exhausting. He missed the days when he could skimp on paperwork and be the first to leave in the evening. Now he was usually the last one here, and it was seriously cutting into his free time after work.
Oh well. Couldn’t really complain when, for the past few months, he’d consistently had pretty solid weekend plans, no matter what he told McGee.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder, whistling a nameless tune to the empty bullpen.
No big weekend plans, indeed.
-.-.-
It took a few weeks for him to realize that his weekly movie nights with Ziva had taken the place of the dates he went on with women he barely knew the names of. It took a few more weeks for him to realize he was perfectly okay with that.
Picking up a DVD from Blockbuster and a six-pack of beers was infinitely cheaper than dropping copious amounts of cash on fancy dinner-dates once a week. Not to mention it required less effort. The times he just went over to be subjected to piano lessons were an even better bargain. No cost, and free piano lessons to boot. Ziva had made a good case that it was a skill he’d be able to show off to woo women, if he got good enough. Now how come he hadn’t thought of that?
This weekend, though, was different. Instead of showing up at 19:00 on the dot like he did almost every Saturday (barring a case that demanded their attention), he was at her door at 04:00, knocking quietly so as not to wake her neighbors.
“Hey, you ready?” he asked as soon as she opened the door. With one hand, she held the door open for him. With the other, she held her hair back in a ponytail.
“I cannot find a hair tie,” she said in frustration, gesturing wildly with her free hand as he entered. “My arm is all pringly.”
Tony rolled his eyes and maneuvered toward her couch, bending to check beneath it. “The word you’re looking for is either ‘tingly’ or ‘prickly,’ and I sincerely hope you packed better snacks than Pringles, because I don’t think those are going to sustain us for very long out there.”
It was a good thing her dominant hand was otherwise occupied, or else he suspected he’d have been smacked in the arm by now.
“Just help me find one,” she demanded, annoyance levels reaching impressive heights for this early in the morning.
Tony sat up on the floor, a satisfied, triumphant smile on his face as he plucked the elusive rubber band from beneath her coffee table. She made a grab for it, but he pulled it back just before she could touch it. Come on, he had to have a little fun with it first, right?
“Ah, ah, ah. What’s the magic word?” he asked in a singsong voice, holding it tauntingly just out of reach. The scathing glare he got in return was just what he was looking for.
“If you do not give it to me, I will push you off a cliff and claim it was an accident,” she threatened. And, given that she very well could accomplish such a feat today, he thought it best to end the game here and cut his losses.
“Here you go,” he said, flicking it off his finger like a slingshot and aiming for her face. She blinked, scrunching up her nose in preparation for the blow, and shot him an unamused look as she picked it up off the ground.
“You are on thin ice,” she warned, pointing at him seriously before securing her hair into a nice strong ponytail on the back of her head.
“Ice? In this heat?” he joked. He couldn’t even get a smile in response, but then he hadn’t really been expecting one. By now, he knew his antics amused her, even if she didn’t show it. It was all part of an unspoken understanding they’d developed.
Hard to believe it hadn’t even been a year yet since she’d officially joined the team. After Gibbs left, their rapport had only strengthened. She had been supportive in his new role as team leader, and offered valuable insight into what he could be doing differently—feedback which was usually shared at their movie nights over boxes of takeout. She was… a friend, as crazy as that was to think about. A year ago she was this crazy woman who crashed into their lives like a blazing meteorite, but now, he spent weekend nights laughing hysterically at Monty Python or playing the world’s worst rendition of Für Elise with her.
“Now, I am ready,” she said grabbing a brightly colored hiking pack and settling it over her shoulders.
“Maps?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Trail snacks?”
“Yes.”
“Birdwatcher’s Guide to Maryland?”
She shot him a look.
“I’m kidding, that’s only if we were taking McGee.”
“Do you want to make it before sunrise or not, Tony?” she asked, shutting off the lights in her kitchen and living room.
He chuckled, tossing his keys from one hand to another. “You’re the one we’re waiting on, Zee-vah.”
She groaned, rolling her eyes severely as she walked toward the door.
“Oh, shut up.”
-.-.-
The drive to Cunningham Falls State Park was only about an hour and a half, but with the lack of traffic at this ungodly hour, Tony managed to shave off 15 minutes from their expected arrival time. Ziva complained that she could have made it in an hour, prompting Tony to remind her that she couldn’t push him off a cliff if they died in a fiery car crash before they even reached the hiking trail.
It was still dark when they parked near the visitors’ center, although the horizon line was tinged just slightly lighter blue than the rest of the sky around it. Tony estimated they had about a half hour before the sun really began to come up, just enough time to get to the top of Chimney Rock and enjoy the vista.
He’d lived in the greater D.C. metro for close to a decade, and yet he’d never been here. Granted, he wasn’t typically one for hiking, but he liked to think he was pretty well acquainted with the area. More often than not, his forays into state parks came with crime scene processing equipment and a body bag. This was a nice change.
Stepping out of the car, Tony made his way to the trunk, pulling out his own backpack and a water bottle from the cooler. He double checked that his flashlight was working, just in case the trail was a little too dark to navigate, and then closed the trunk.
“Shall we?” he asked, and Ziva tilted her head in agreement, her almost imperceptible smile speaking volumes.
They followed the signs pointing them toward the orange trail, and began their ascent, carefully stepping over jagged rocks and exposed tree roots, obstacles that were barely visible in the dim light. Ziva dexterously traversed them all, having to stop several times to wait for Tony to catch up.
“Did you not have to pass agility tests when you were a police officer, Tony?” she teased on one such occasion, sitting on a particularly large boulder and sipping from her canteen while she waited.
The week before had been rainy, a nice reprieve from the oppressive summer heat, but it made finding solid footholds a little more difficult. He found himself slipping if he wasn’t careful, wondering if maybe he should have chosen a pair of shoes with a little better traction.
“You’ve seen me jump a fence chasing a bad guy, right?” he asked, just as his foot slipped again on a slick stone.
She laughed and hopped off the boulder, continuing her path upward.
“Maybe you are just getting old,” she called back, and his jaw dropped open, simultaneously offended and desperately trying to keep the smile off his face. She was younger than him, true, but she also had some kind of ninja training that would have outpaced him even if they were both in the prime of their youth. He followed after, picking up the pace as best as he could.
A few times, they had to stop and double-check the map, when the trail thinned out and it wasn’t exactly clear where to go next. He knew they were getting close when the next stretch of their hike involved climbing up into a crevice of large rocks and boulders, a task which demanded all his attention in the still-dim early morning light. Each movement required careful calculation, examining the rocky surface for adequate handholds and footholds to hoist himself further up the mountain.
Eventually, the slope evened out again, resembling the dirt trail they had first started up. It led them right to a unique rock formation, massive outcroppings of quartzite overlooking what promised to be an incredible vista.
“Right on time, what did I tell you?” Tony said, wiping his dirty palms on his pants. Just ahead of them, the sun was beginning to peek above the Blue Ridge Mountains, pastel brushstrokes of pink and yellow painting the sky. “Come on.”
He headed toward the formation called Chimney Rock, careful to steer clear of the steep ledge. The rock itself was huge, and would require some strategy to surmount if he was here by himself. Luckily, he had a partner with him.
“You first,” he said, bending his knees and cupping his hands low in front of him. Instead of protesting that she could do it herself, Ziva simply placed a hand on his shoulder and one foot in his hands, allowing him to assist her in climbing to the flat surface of the rock. One she established her position, she reached down, countering his weight with her own and helping him reach the top.
The hard, uneven surface dug painfully into his knees, but the view was worth it.
Dense fog pooled like lakes in the valleys between the ancient, worn mountain peaks. Despite the brutal summer, the recent rainfall had the foliage looking a little livelier than it probably had a few weeks ago. Miles and miles of verdant forest stretched before them and below them, sleepy with the last dredges of nightfall.
It wouldn’t be long before the sun scorched away any lingering mist, drying up the dew that coated the rich vegetation. But for now, they could enjoy the slight breeze that was just cool enough to be appreciated.
Tony sat back with a groan, his legs thankful for the much-needed break. He took a swig from his water bottle and took it all in, the sunrise, the trees, the mist.
“Your country is beautiful,” Ziva said, sitting beside him.
He supposed it was. Sometimes it was easy to forget all the picturesque places you could go see when you were so used to digging around in alleyways or chasing down suspects behind a grimy gas station. It hardly seemed like the same world as the one Ziva was intently taking in, the wind blowing back the curls that had escaped her ponytail around her face.
He cocked his head, looking at the view from a different angle. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
They sat a few moments more, just watching as the light refracted off the thin strips of clouds in the sky, shifting colors like a kaleidoscope. Eventually, Ziva set her bag down and pulled out some Ziplock bags of trail mix and some Gatorade, passing Tony his share of the snacks.
“You know, Camp David is just a few miles Northwest of here,” Tony said, pointing over his left shoulder.
“You ever been there?” Ziva asked, tossing a few peanuts into her mouth.
Tony glanced at her. “Me? Nah. Kate did, though. Once.”
The presidential retreat in Maryland had its own team of Secret Service agents, whereas Kate had been assigned to Air Force One. It was rare that she was asked to fill in outside her area of duty.
“She told me she talked to an agent there who had worked for Bush senior back in ’91. Was there when Arnold Schwarzenegger came for a visit and went sledding with the president. The First Lady wound up breaking her leg.”
Ziva chuckled, shaking her head. “I bet that was a sight to behold.”
“I’m sure it was.”
Once they finished munching on their snacks, Ziva helped Tony to his feet, and then came the process of getting back down from where they were sitting. Tony eyed the ledge warily, restraining himself from pulling his partner back by the straps of her backpack when she dangled her feet daringly over the cliff face.
Rather than take the same trail back, they decided to continue on, looping past another rock formation called Wolf Rock before returning to the visitors’ center. By the time they arrived back at their car, it was time for an early lunch.
Tony retrieved the sandwiches he had packed from the trunk of his car, and restocked their water. Ziva found a picnic table not far from the parking lot, and they settled down in the shade, a brief reprieve from the already oppressive heat.
“This is nice,” Tony commented between mouthfuls of ham on rye. “Getting some fresh air.”
“I thought you were more of an indoor person,” Ziva teased. “Why the sudden change?”
Tony shrugged, glancing around at their surroundings with a contemplative expression. “I don’t know. Makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?”
She smirked, and took a bite of her own sandwich.
The rest of their break was filled with idle chatter, comments on Agent Lee’s progress, McGee’s supposed big plans for the weekend. They steered clear of mentioning their former boss, who was probably rolling out of bed right about now on some sunny beach in Mexico, drinking Coronas or the juice from a coconut for breakfast.
“You still up for the second hike?” Tony asked as they returned to the car to retrieve their bags.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I think you are the one we need to be worried about,” she said, glancing skeptically at his shoes. “Next time, buy a pair of real hiking boots.”
He sighed in annoyance, locking the car behind them and pocketing the keys.
“I have some, they just got a hole in them the last time I wore them to a crime scene.”
“And you thought inadequate traction was better than having a hole in your shoe?” she asked, openly passing judgement on his choices with the shake of her head. “Yeesh, and to think, they made you our leader.”
He rolled his eyes, trotting behind her toward the yellow trail that would lead to the falls. This one was much less strenuous, paved with gravel and relatively flat. In no time at all, they reached a wooden boardwalk that overlooked the rocky slope, which was flowing with fresh mountain water.
It was lucky it had rained, Tony thought. The cascading waterfall would have likely been dried up if they’d come the week before, but perhaps that’s why there were so few people here besides them. They’d picked a good day for this, after all. Good weather, even if it was heating up to be another blazing day.
“Wow,” Tony said, taking it in. “Listen to that. Who needs an expensive spa day when you can go listen to the real thing?”
The rushing sound of water got louder the closer they got to the base of the falls. In some spots, it trickled into smaller pools where erosion had dug a hole into the porous rock.
“Are we just going to stand here and look at it?” Ziva asked, glancing at him appraisingly.
That kicked him into gear, and he grinned before stepping over puddles of water toward the rocky hill. Ziva was right beside him as they climbed up the slope.
“You know, technically the guidebook says you’re not supposed to climb the falls,” Tony pointed out casually, casting a knowing look at his partner.
Like that would stop her. Neither of them was particularly well-known for following the rules.
Out here, away from the shade of the tree coverage, the afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, and Tony quickly felt sweat beginning to drip down his back. He wiped his brow, his hair sticking up at odd angles from the moisture.
“Ugh,” he complained, pausing and sitting down on one of the levels somewhere in the middle.
“Giving up so soon?” Ziva asked, amused by his suffering. She could have told him not to wear a black t-shirt, even if it was made of quick-dry, breathable fabric.
“This is far enough,” he said, groaning as he removed his troublesome shoes without explanation.
Ziva hopped back down to the level he was on, watching him with interest.
“What are you doing?” she asked, recoiling as his sweaty socks came off next. She just knew if they’d been in an enclosed space, she’d have been able to smell the stench from where she stood. She could practically feel her nostrils burning.
He crawled to his right, sighing in relief as he reached the stream of water running downhill, basking in its cool flow. He eased himself onto his back, finding a relatively smooth spot to lay down and allow the water to cascade around him. His shirt was instantly soaked, as were his shorts.
Still, she imagined the flowing water must feel good in his hair, and on his skin.
“You know you want to,” Tony singsonged, somehow reading her mind even with his eyes closed in peaceful relaxation.
She huffed, though the sound held no real animosity. After a moment longer of indecision, she knelt to remove her own boots, taking the time to unlace them unlike her partner had. He scooted over wordlessly to make room for her, and the tension in her overworked muscles eased almost instantaneously as she sat down.
“Mmm,” she hummed, appreciating the cool water running over her neck.
“Good, right?”
“Shut up, Tony.”
-.-.-
Back at the car, Ziva removed her tank top, wringing it free of water while standing in nothing but her sports bra and shorts. Tony had taken his shirt off halfway through their hike back, so he supposed it was fair game. It had probably dried out to an acceptable level by now, but he gave it another squeeze just to be safe.
“This was a good idea, Tony,” Ziva said, putting her arms back through the arm holes and pulling the shirt back on. “Although maybe next time, we should think twice about going in the middle of the summer.”
Tony watched as the last glimpse of olive skin on her torso disappeared beneath the damp fabric of her tank top, and purposely redirected his gaze elsewhere before she caught him staring. “I don’t know. Seemed like the perfect day for it to me,” he said nonchalantly.
The car seats were scalding hot from the sun when they slid into the vehicle. Tony had the air conditioner blasting before he could even shut the door behind him, though it would be a few minutes before the cycling air made any kind of difference.
“Thanks for coming, Ziva,” he said, the words a brief departure from the teasing he’d leveled on her all day.
She turned to meet his eyes, assessing him for what? he didn’t know. Evidently, he passed her test, because her lips pulled back in a smile, and she gave a curt nod.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
The ride back was silent for the most part. Anything that could have been said had already been voiced somewhere in the middle of the forest, their conversation running as dry as Cunningham Falls probably would be in another week or two.
But there would always be something more to be said between them eventually. That’s just the way it was.
“I was thinking about signing up for the Marine Corps Marathon in October,” Ziva said, digging some specks of dirt out from underneath her fingernail.
Tony glanced over at her before focusing back on the road, clearing his throat.
“I’ve never run a marathon before.”
He kept his tone conversational. Casual. But what she said, or rather—implied—made him realize something, and it gave him pause.
Since when were they making plans together months in advance? How had that happened? He didn’t even do that with McGee, and he’d known the man for a couple years now.
It was just movie nights. It was just piano lessons. It was just a day trip to the forest for some scenic views. And maybe they’d train for a marathon together, but that was it.
It was good to have hobbies, right? He needed them now more than ever, with everything he had on his plate at work.
This was good. There was no way to look at the nice day he’d just had and find something wrong with it. There just wasn’t.
He pushed any further thoughts about it out of his mind, focusing instead on Ziva’s explanation about training regimens and past recordholders for the race.
Somehow, in the last several months, she’d become a vital part of his life. A support system. A confidante. And with Gibbs gone—retired, absent, out to pasture— he could find no fault in himself for that.