Disclaimer: Don't own them, won't break them, make no money from them etc etc

A/N: Apologies for this...I really shouldn't be allowed to write when I can't sleep, it does weird things to the plot.

As the plane flew over the ocean, powering its way back towards DC, Gibbs once again felt the sensation of eyes boring into the side of his head. Sighing, he turned to face his ex-Senior Field Agent.

"Something I can help you with DiNozzo?"

Unlike the previous 20 times Gibbs had felt him staring; Tony didn't turn away or lower his gaze. Instead, their eyes locked.

"Just checking you're still here Boss."

Gibbs must have looked puzzled as Tony continued.

"Can't believe you're actually here…I really did miss you."

Gibbs looked over to where both their prisoner and Ziva were fast asleep, verifying the fact that they didn't have an audience for the conversation he was sure was about to happen. Satisfied they were essentially alone, he turned back to Tony.

"I missed you too Tony."

The soft admission was so quiet that it was almost lost in the sound of the engines. Tony's sharp hearing picked it up however, and a shy smile spread across his face.

"Really?"

"Really."

That seemed to satisfy Tony for the moment, as he went back to doing whatever he was doing when he wasn't staring at Gibbs. Gibbs in turn went back to staring out of the window into the featureless night sky, retreating into his own mind.

It had been a long four months for them all, there was no denying that. He hadn't realised how much he relied on Tony in his daily life until he was no longer around. Gibbs sighed to himself, he hated when his brain supplied him with nothing more than clichés…Shannon was always the one with the flair for original thought. Feeling a warm weight pressing against his side, he dragged himself from his musings and returned to his immediate surroundings. When they had boarded the plane, Tony had made it clear that he was going to occupy the seat next to his boss, shooting daggers at Ziva so that she relented and took the guard position beside the prisoner. Now it appeared that Tony intended to capitalize on his position while he had the opportunity.

"Hey Boss?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask."

Gibbs could feel Tony's hesitation where their bodies were in contact.

"Am I being punished?"

The unspoken question, Gibbs' brain helpfully supplied, was "Are you punishing me?" Gibbs sighed once more. An abstract thought floated past that he was beginning to sound like he'd sprung a leak. He turned to look Tony directly in the eye.

"No Tony, I'm not punishing you. It was not your fault, OK?"

Once again, Tony was relieved that Gibbs could read between the lines of his innocuous question to get at what he was really asking. Looking Gibbs in the eye, Tony was relieved to see he was telling the truth.

"And before you ask, no I'm not forgiving you because there's nothing to forgive."

Tony seemed to think about this for a moment, scrutinising Gibbs closely. He was apparently satisfied with what he saw and nodded slightly.

"OK Boss."

Feeling slightly surprised that Tony hadn't needed his usual amount of soul searching to reach his conclusion; Gibbs once more turned his attention to the night sky. His musing was once more interrupted by his neighbour, this time wriggling in his seat in a vain attempt to get comfortable.

"Would you sit still Tony?"

"Sorry Boss"

The wriggling, although more subtle, didn't stop. Gibbs sighed again, this time in exasperation. He flipped up the arm rest between the two seats.

"C'mere."

"I…what?"

"Anything to get you to sit still so I can get some sleep."

Tony looked at him incredulously, not quite believing what was being offered. Gibbs just raised one eyebrow.

"Before I get any older Tony."

"On it Boss."

Tony dived under his boss's arm and rested his head on the nearest shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of Gibbs' arm come around him. Whilst not a common occurrence, this certainly was not the first time they'd wound up in this position, though usually a near death experience had befallen one or both of them for it to arise. Tony buried his nose in the crook of Gibbs' neck and inhaled. He hadn't meant to do it, but it was only now that he realised just how much comfort he took from the familiar scent.

"Are you sniffing me DiNozzo?"

The tone was mild, slightly amused.

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"No."

"Then yes, I was. Sorry Boss, won't happen again."

Tony could practically hear Gibbs rolling his eyes.

As Tony slept, Gibbs brain once more turned itself to the task of coming up with as many clichés as it could to describe the current situation, much to the annoyance of its human. Having Tony so close, and still so trusting, was making Gibbs feel warmth seeping through his veins for the first time in months. He hadn't realised quite how numbed he'd become since his team had been forcibly separated. From the snippets of conversation he'd overheard between Tony and Ziva, not to mention the video conference where McGee and Tony had…gained unlawful access to the files they needed, he could tell his Senior Field Agent was in a pretty bad way. For the second time in his life, he'd had his family taken away from him. His brain took this opportunity to begin to draw parallels between the two men. Both from disjoined families, neither with contact to any remaining relatives, both spending way too much time working…Gibbs told his brain to shut up and instead focused on the sleeping body now snoring gently into his ear. The now-familiar sensation of eyes boring into his skull made him look over to where Ziva was now awake. And staring. Gibbs gave her what he assumed was his normal glare, however it wasn't as effective as he'd hoped as Ziva got out of her seat and approached.

"Is he OK?"

Genuine concern in her voice dissolved Gibbs' intended bark in the back of his throat.

"He will be."

Tony gave a slight shiver and pushed himself deeper into the shoulder he was leaning on. Ziva reached for Gibbs coat, laying folded on the floor, and laid it over the sleeping agent in a rare display of tender compassion.

"I too have missed him."

That was all the explanation Gibbs was getting as she made her way back to the prisoner.

Tony was having a wonderful dream that Gibbs and Ziva had come to rescue him from a dragon. He was slightly uncomfortable at the damsel-in-distress role he seemed to have cast himself in, however the feeling of being saved from certain death acted as a counterpoint so he didn't mind that much. The long, flowing dress he was wearing concerned him more as the colour was not one he thought especially flattering. Gibbs hadn't seemed to notice it as he'd swooped down, aided by Ziva's strong wing beats (Ziva had wings? How'd she find clothes to fit?), and swept Tony into his arms, the three of them flying away from the dragon who suddenly seemed unable to fly. Tony felt safe, the familiar scent of wood shavings and coffee surrounding him completely. The previously smooth flight to freedom suddenly became bumpy, like he was being shaken. Wow, turbulence…who knew mythical winged Mossad agents were affected. The shaking got worse, loosening the last grips of the dream and bumping him fully awake. He opened his eyes to find himself looking directly into an amused pair of shining blues he knew so well.

"I'm sorry about the dress…"

So maybe the last bits of the dream were clinging on determinedly. Gibbs laughed out loud, to the consternation of his sleepy partner.

"Some dream you were having, Ziva with wings? Seriously?"

Tony shook himself awake and glared at his laughing Boss.

"You should have seen the dress I was wearing…that's the last time I sleep after you get me a coffee, damned thing's hallucinogenic…"

"Sit up Sleeping Beauty, we're about to land."

It was only then he noticed he was leaning almost fully on Gibbs, who still had an arm resting loosely around his waist. Reluctantly Tony manoeuvred himself upright and back fully into his own seat. Gibbs retrieved his arm, leaning close to Tony.

"For the record, just because you needed rescuing doesn't make you a damsel, no matter how pretty your dress is."

He smiled softly, and in his second paternal moment of the flight tucked his coat back around his pseudo-son, pausing briefly to stoke Tony's hair before settling back into his seat in preparation for the landing.

As a warm weight once again settled itself against his side Gibbs vowed that no matter what Vance said, he'd find a way to keep DiNozzo by his side, dress or no dress.