But it was a trick and the clock struck twelve...

The C-130 rocketed off the runway and quickly left the dusty, blazing heat of Dubai for the chilled temperatures of the upper atmosphere. For the first time in two months, Anthony DiNozzo could breathe easily. He leaned his head back against the cargo pallet behind him and cast a glance at the people surrounding him. Gibbs was still covered in sand and dirt and Tony could have sworn the aged agent nodded before closing his eyes and descending into sleep. McGee was passed out on the bench across from him, falling fast asleep before the plane even took off. Apparently the desert heat didn't suit him.

And then there was Ziva.

Ziva, Ziva, Ziva... He shook his head in thought. Why did he come? For once he doubted the drive - the red tint that clouded his vision - that it was the right decision. That it was the right thing to do.

Couldn't live without you, I guess.

Tony closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair as those words racked around in his brain. Saleem's drug had pulled it out of it. It had done its worst. Not since Jeanne had he... He shook his head. He didn't want her to know - at least, not under these circumstances. He didn't want her to find out while she was nearly hating him for rescuing her, when she didn't want a white knight to ride in and save the day.

That doesn't mean she didn't need a white knight. Tony held back a curse as the unbidden thought came upon him. He looked across the bulkhead where she lay in a pile of blankets against a cargo pallet. Her eyes were closed, but the rapid and rising falling of her chest indicated that she was far from asleep. Tony closed his eyes and looked away, trying not to imagine the thoughts coursing through her mind, rather focusing on the city they just departed.

Dubai.

There was some mysterious draw, as if by an unseen desert god, that made the city so popular, so prosperous. Oil was in Abu Dhabi, the commerce in the other city states, and yet Dubai was the city that everyone knew. After the raid in Somalia, the team went back to Dubai, where their ride home was awaiting them. No on spoke. Silence was their mantra.

Tony noted how McGee had a glazed look in his eye and moved with a slight limp. Apparently their intended capture had a larger impact on him than he could have foreseen. Gibbs - a man of few words to begin with - hardly spoke, directing his team with gestures and looks. Tony got the feeling that, if anyone wanted to say something, they would. But that was just the thing: there was nothing to be said.

And yet, Tony was struck with the feeling of wanting to say something. Of words wanting to come from his mouth and explain his actions in months past and make amends for the months lost. And yet nothing came out. There was nothing to be said.

Dubai was a time of silence and even now on the plane, the silence followed him.

He settled back into the cargo pallet behind him and shut his eyes, begging the drone of the engines to drown out his thoughts.

Well next time, build your house brick by boring brick, or the wolf's gonna blow it down.

A/N:

sorry for the delay in publishing. due to extenuating circumstances surrounding the writing of this story, its being put on hold indefinitely. we may or may not come back to finish it, but before we closed it for now, we thought you readers deserved the last section we written.

So thank you so much wonderful readers! We hope you enjoyed this wonderful ride :) and maybe you'll join us again someday if we ever decide to finish this thing off.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts

-jessisparks & redhandedjill