A/N: complete cop-out, there was too much time between reading the prompt and sitting down to write, as a result I didn't feel like writing the whole investigation of the possibly haunted house that I had imagined, so when the wizard of oz quote popped into my head I just started writing the end of the visit which I hadn't even thought of. Cliff's notes of what I should've written: they entered an abandoned house that is rumored to be haunted looking for a missing marine, and stumbled across a fully furnished and warmly lit room at the top floor, occupied by what appears to be a ghost

Such a monumental cop-out, I actually feel bad about it

Prompt: Visiting a haunted house

Tony pulled the front door closed behind him, relishing the sudden warmth of a particularly bright October sun. "Huh." He chewed on his bottom lip. "That was, um,..." Ziva seemed unusually quiet standing next to him, staring into nothingness. "Click your heels, Dorothy."

She met his gaze, and took a deep breath. "Old buildings often have toxic mold."

"And gas leaks," he chimed in. "They can make people hallucinate the wildest things."

Her gaze momentarily drifted. With knit brows, she cautiously asked, "The exact same thing?"

Despite the uneasiness in his gut, he mustered enough bravado to confidently say, "Sure, I think there's a French word for it." His mind still reeling, he blurted out the first French sounding words that came to mind. "Ménage à trois?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow. "Unless you are planning on having a threesome with a ghost, the word you are looking for is folie à deux."

They stood in silence, eyes locked, for what felt like an eternity, trying to grasp what they had witnessed. A car horn broke the spell.

"So, what do we write in our reports?" Ziva looked at him expectantly.

Tony lifted his shoulders, and shook his head minutely. "No sign of the missing marine, possible gas leak."

She inhaled slowly, and nodded.

As they walked over to their car, Ziva looked back at the house. A warm, yellow light shimmered through one of the top floor windows. She gasped, and stopped walking, unable to look away.

"Ziva?"

His voice was tentative, but managed to draw her attention. She watched his eyes drift to the top floor, then focus back on her, a questioning look on his face. Ziva frowned at his lack of reaction, and looked up again, the window now appearing cold and dark, like the rest of the house.

"You okay?"

She nodded, and pursed her lips. "There is no place like home, right?"