Several hours later, Gibbs was shocked into abrupt consciousness by an ear-splitting squeal that made his toes curl and his teeth grind together. A symphony of sharp clicks and squeaks followed, echoing throughout the Warehouse. Cries of surprise and alarm could be heard from the Residents, the unfamiliar noise fraying their already sensitive nerves. Within seconds, Gibbs' boots were on and he rushed to investigate the source of the offending cacophony. As he left the Apartment, he noticed that Ziva was not with him, and her boots were missing.

Gibbs made his way through the maze of Apartments, and a few moments later, something other than discord began pouring from the long dormant speaker system mounted on the walls. A tiny spark lit his memory, and he realized it was a song he vaguely recognized. It was music. Gibbs quickly reached the Gathering place, and found Ziva and Abby standing on the right side of the empty space, close to the west wall. They were motionless, staring in wonder at a large black metal box from which cords and cables ran to the wall and disappeared.

Residents were starting to gather, and Gibbs held back, waiting to see how they would react to the Warehouse's newest upgrade. He saw astonishment, confusion, and apprehension, but any concern those reactions elicited was obliterated by the shift of movement where Abby and Ziva were standing. Gibbs' eyes returned to the women, and immediately noticed the beaming smile of triumph that now graced Abby's face. She was clearly proud, and justly so. Gibbs realized then that her pet project was now an official success; she had found a way to harness some form of electricity.

Ziva had closed her eyes, a content smile spreading across her lips as she listened to the notes of the song that was emanating from the speakers. Slowly at first, then with greater deliberation, her foot began to tap, following the heavy beat of the music. As if responding to her enthusiasm, the music began to crescendo— if Gibbs recalled the song correctly, it was about to launch into its first chorus. The beat intensified, and as Gibbs watched, Ziva began to sway. Then, just as the echoing vocals started burst into the chorus, Ziva surprised Gibbs by launching into motion.

She began to dance—not sensuously, as he knew she could, but rather with a carefree air that seemed to be contagious. Abby offered no resistance when Ziva grasped her hands and pulled her to the center of the Gathering place.

With a swift twist, Ziva sent them both into a playful twirl. They spun away from each, and then danced their way back towards each other, playing off each other's movements. They both followed the beat as it thumped through the Warehouse, and broad grins betrayed their joy as they bobbed to the music. Gibbs found himself grinning as well as he continued to watch them.

Abby's movements were characteristically… Abby. Choppy and bouncy, with plenty of head banging. For a moment, Gibbs could see her back in her lab at NCIS, listening to her hair-splitting death-razor-metal-whatever music she liked to listen to. But then he blinked, and the scene was gone, replaced by an equally beautiful scene in the present. The hi-tech lab instruments, the computers, the pristine lab tables, all of that was gone, but her grin was still there, and it was a welcome sight.

Ziva, on the other hand, was showing her exotic roots. Her moves were more graceful than Abby's as she swayed to the beat, and her hips moved effortlessly—up and forward and back, up and forward and back… Gibbs almost lost himself in the smooth shifting of her hips in the subtle pattern of a cha-cha. It was barely there, but it created a stark contrast between the two women's styles.

Then, as vocals began to merge with the electronic instruments, Ziva and Abby shared a look, then a nod, before moving to opposite sides of the crowd that had formed around them. They each grasped the hands of the first person they reached, and pulled them into the center with them. Gibbs did not recall the names of the two men who had fallen victim, but after a few awkward moments of surprised stumbling and standing uncertainly in front of the two dancing women, they succumbed to the growing excitement. Within moments they were bobbing and stepping as well, moving with the women as they danced.

Ziva's partner seemed to have a sudden burst of confidence, as he took the initiative and pulled her in close before spinning the Israeli out. Ziva went with it, allowing herself to spin back to the ring of spectators, where she selected another hapless victim. Her abandoned partner found his own victim, pulling a young woman in to dance. Abby and her partner saw this latest development, and quickly followed suit. Soon, the entire Gathering place was filled with happy cheers and shouts as dancing bodies pressed together in harmony.

Gibbs was content to stand back and watch, happily observing the impromptu celebration. It was amazing; the effect the music had on the Residents was incredible. How long had it been, he wondered, since they had heard music? Since they had been able to let go like this, and simply exist in the moment? Over a year now, he figured. Closer to a year and half. The concept of music hadn't even crossed his mind—only Abby would have thought to reintroduce music in a place like this. A grin appeared on his lips as he caught a glimpse of his scientist dancing with a smiling McGee.

Movement on the fringe of Gibbs' peripheral vision caught his attention, and he turned to see Ziva approaching. A mischievous grin graced her own lips, and her eyes twinkled as she took his hand and pulled him into the milling bodies. Once they were in the thick of it, Ziva drew to a halt, but her body continued to move, never once losing the pulse of the beat. She swayed around him, silently enticing him to join her. Suddenly, Gibbs was all too aware of his age, and felt foolish as he stood steadfast in front of her.

"I don't dance," he informed her, remaining still as a rock. Ziva's eyebrows rose skeptically for a moment before she tilted her head knowingly.

"I find that difficult to believe," she responded casually, brushing against him.

"I don't dance," he repeated, this time with more finality. At first, Ziva's smile remained where it was, but then her brow furrowed as she realized he was being truthful. She regarded him for a moment, and he knew that she was debating whether or not to confront him about it right then and there. Finally coming to a decision, her features relaxed into a mask of indifference. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Very well," she said with the slightest wrinkle of her nose. "I am sure I can find someone less inhibited who is willing to dance with me." Without waiting for him to reply, she turned to disappear into the crowd. But before she could take another step, Gibbs' hand darted out and snagged her hip. He pulled her backwards until she pressed against his front. As she continued to dance against him, Gibbs found himself responding, his own hips mimicking her movements. Ziva craned her neck to look back at him, but instead of seeing the mild surprise he expected, Gibbs found a triumphant smirk being sent his way.

"Hah," she said. "I knew you had it in you." She leaned farther back until she could murmur in his ear. "Yet another of Gibbs' infamous rules proves itself valid."

"And which rule did you just put to the test?"

"Rule #3," she recited dutifully. "Never believe what you are told—always double check."

"So you were just double-checking then, huh?"

"Yes, and I called your bluff, yes?"

"Yeah," Gibbs replied. "I guess you did." The easy conversation helped dissolve his reservations, and he began to relax as Ziva's warmth worked its magic on him. He began to let his body take over, and as soon as his mind quieted, his movements became smoother, and more natural. Soon, he too was able to feel the pulse of the beat. Slowly Gibbs let himself forget, for just a moment, everything. He let worries about the Bloods, the medical supplies, and the coming summer heat bleed away. He allowed himself to forget that they were in a warehouse on the docks, that they had become drifters, that their lives had been turned upside down by the Incident.

He was able to believe, for just a moment, that there were not 60-plus Residents relying on them for Survival. He was able to believe, for just a moment, that there was only the two of them.

That the Voice and the Shadow did not exist.

That there was only Jethro and Ziva.

Husband and wife.

A/N: Another note at the end! Yay! Just kidding. I only put this here so that I didn't give anything away. Just some background on this chapter: I know it doesn't really flow with the mood of the earlier chapters, but I was listening to a song the other day while writing an earlier chapter, and I began to think about what would happen if music was reintroduced, and our intrepid team was allowed to let their hair down and have some fun? This is what it resulted in. When I typed it up, I realized how foolish it seemed in comparison to the darkness of the other chapters, and was *this* close to deleting the whole thing. But then I realized that there was an important development tacked onto the very end. And then the entire chapter was justified, and I simply couldn't leave it out. Else the rest of the story lost some of its impact. You'll see.

Don't worry, things pick up in the next chapter. Some action, some more dialogue, less setting the scene... you know, the stuff you've been waiting ever so patiently for. I hope you enjoyed this little piece of apocalyptic fluff. It was a you-know-what to write (this final product is drastically different from the draft), but I think it was worth it. And just so you know, the song I was listening to, and the song I imagined them dancing to is called "I'm Free" by Kenny Loggins. Its on the soundtrack to Footloose, the movie. Call me a dork for listening to soundtracks, but hey, who doesn't like some 80s music every now and then. And the lyrics really fit this scene, I think, and the world they now live in. I think you can probably find a video of it somewhere on youtube...