Truly it had been a deep sleep, for if Nadine had been even the slightest bit conscious, she would have awoken to the abnormal sound: the door unlocking. As frightening as the near-death experience had been last night, the emotional outlet had also worn her out past the point of realizing someone was in her room. Instead she slumbered on top of the comforter, her legs covered, and her left hand hanging off the bed.

By the time that awareness had started to edge her consciousness, whispering that she wasn't alone, a few minutes had passed. Just as her eyes started to open, the person moved. Her hand, the one that held a scar and the magic that began all of this, raised when the person took her wrist. The touch startled her awake completely, though her ability to think was far more sluggish to awaken.

She made to punch whoever was before her, whoever held her, when that hand became immobile as well. Warmth and a bit of fur brushed over her hand, her wrist, and her fingertips. "Monkey Fist." She spoke as she became fully aware of the situation. Or, rather, she tried to speak. What came out was a croak of a frog.

Nevertheless it did not alter the person before her. It was indeed Monkey Fist and he wore a taunting grin. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue, Miss Burnier?" There was a new scent, something on his breath. What was it, so familiar but so different? It wasn't necessarily bad, but it certainly wasn't…hm. Then she realized what it was. Bourbon. Hard to believe since it was early in the morning, but she was certain of the smell. How much had he had to drink and how much of his behavior was influenced from it?

Nadine scowled and tried to speak again. When it became obvious that she couldn't, be it from a parched throat or bruised tissue, or both, she responded maturely with a middle finger. At his chuckle, she wondered why he was still holding her wrists. She took in the scene quickly. He stood against the bed, his thighs meeting the mattress, while he held her up, leaving her in kneeling position.

"Ever the charmer." He mused dryly. "Enough of that, good morning to you as well. I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here."

It dawned on her suddenly that this was the first time he had been in her room. Well, 'her' room. Her cell. Aside from the plethora of ways she could manipulate the two words, it didn't change the fact that Monkey Fist had never been in this room that she slept in, especially when she had been sleeping. Not to her knowledge at least.

Nadine tried to pull away but found the monkey master's grip like concrete. "I spent half the night considering what to do. That is, to gain what is rightfully mine that is. I thought to myself," his voice became airy, "if there are no answers of intellect in the many books or lore, even in its original found location…then what could be done?" She tried once more in vain to be free, but he didn't even acknowledge it. "Then I thought, why, this is of fairly old magic…surely it would require an…old fashion way of regaining it."

This caught Nadine's attention. Her skin prickled with needles of weariness, of fear. What was he implying exactly? Whatever it was coupled with the bloodshot look in his eyes, she didn't like it. He wasn't quite the raving lunatic, not yet, but she was certain he wasn't sober. Same difference, in a sense.

"You see, in the olden days, far, far ago…they thought that magic was in the blood, just as illness was. Evil spirits, combined, tsk. Fools." He shook his head slightly before releasing her right hand, slipping his own into his pocket. "The way to get rid of anything unpleasant in the body – or desired – was to…bleed them." Nadine felt queasy at the thought. "And seeing as how you gained the power by a nick from Zarzarak's hand…"

A gleam of a knife caught from the corner of her eye. Her stomach dropped and she felt the blood leave her face. With a choked shout, she shut her eyes and her fist. The air seemed to change in a flash as well – literally. Something bright flashed, darted across the room until it connected with the blade. Whatever it was traveled down the blade, through the handle, and…

"Ouch!" Monkey Fist cried out, dropping the knife and her arm. When his gaze moved from the fallen weapon, to his throbbing red hand, it settled finally on Nadine. She looked up at him cautiously watching how his expression went from pain to annoyance to awe to fury. He growled, closing his right hand to hide the injury – a burn of sorts. Perhaps if he had been a bit more intoxicated or simply childish, he would have stomped his feet and shouted a temper tantrum. Luckily he did neither.

Nadine pushed away from him, only stopping when she stood on the other side of the bed on wobbly legs. She glanced at his right hand, then at her left. Now they were even in marks. Even if she could have spoken the words, she wouldn't have.

"You little…" Monkey Fist's half-utter growl brought her back to the moment. "You are trying my patience, girl."

What could she say? No, literally, what could she say? Her throat protested, was on fire actually from the scream she had forced out, and even then she had no idea how to react. All she knew was that the knife was still on the ground. He could pick it up with his foot – his monkey hand or whatever – and try again.

Perhaps it was the look of terror on her face, as it had been the night before, or maybe Monkey Fist just felt like he needed ice on his injury. Whatever it was, he sighed sharply and started to leave. Nadine didn't dare move. At the doorway, he paused to look at her. Their gazes met, lingered, before he broke away first. With a scowl, he shut the door.

What a hell of a wakeup call.

Three days passed. Monkey Fist hadn't visited since. Shego had begrudgingly taken her meals to her room. That was it. It was actually rather unnerving after the first day of relief. What was Monkey Fist planning? Was he at all, assuming he was sober? By dinner on the third day, Shego had slipped her a magazine.

The sun started to sink. Her empty plates rest on the tray near the door. Nadine sat on the window's ledge, the window open just enough to let some fresh air in. Her eyes skimmed the articles. It was calm, her mind that was. For a moment, she felt as though she could forget where she was, what was going on…

Click.

The door unlocked. Nadine, thinking it was Shego to pick up her tray – seriously, how much was the green woman getting paid for that? – spoke without glancing up, "Thanks again for the magazine, Shego, I…"

There wasn't the familiar green in the corner of her eye. No, it wasn't even blue. It was black. She looked up and flinched, standing quickly. Had she not been holding the magazine, she would have reached up to brush her fingertips over her neck. The bruise remained, a pale blue rather than the vivid dark from the morning after, but didn't bother her as much now when she spoke.

"Monkey Fist." Nevertheless, the name left her in a hushed tone.

The man remained where he was near the open door. At first Nadine thought it was his way of trying to make her feel comfortable, whatever that word meant anymore. What she thought secondly, however, was that he looked rather…sheepish.

"Miss Burnier." He greeted in a cool tone. "A magazine, you say? I thought you might be tired of reading." It sounded almost awkward.

"It's about the latest fashion which, incidentally, has nothing to do with monkeys." Her tone was a bit clipped.

Monkey Fist either didn't notice or didn't care. He shifted slightly on his feet. It was then that Nadine realized he had his hands behind his back. They stared at each other for another long moment, taking one another in.

What had he been doing the past three days? According to an offhand comment from Shego, he had indeed had a tantrum. Nadine was sure that his study or his room was probably trashed still. What did he want now? Her blood? She almost laughed.

"What do you want?"

"I was hoping you…"

They spoke at the same time. They went quiet at the same time. When Nadine shifted, crossing her arms over her body, she noted that he hadn't moved. Finally he sighed. "Miss Burnier, I wish to apologize." This was unexpected! It must have shown in both her silence and her face, for he looked away. "I have behaved absolutely ghastly to you, in ways that are unforgivable."

Nadine's eyes widened. When she took in the man's words, she questioned honestly, "Do you mean, the kidnapping or…the…?"

His jaw tensed, she could see it from across the room. There was a sort of fury in his gaze that had nothing to do with her. "It was a lowly thing to do, no better than scum, to mark your flesh in such a way." He paused. "And…the knife…I should have presented the idea…better."

Presented the idea better? Presented the idea that he wanted to cut her hand once more…in a more suitable way? The absurdity of the statement coupled with the boredom of being locked up for three days made her break a bit. Nadine snorted. The snort turned into a chuckle, then a full out laugh. It was only when she was holding her side cracking up did she realize how…light, how lovely she felt then.

When she finally calmed to a weak giggle, wiping away the tears from her eyes, she jumped to see Monkey Fist had moved. He stood just half a foot away, concerned and his hand half-raised. Nadine swallowed and stood tall once more, unsure of how to react.

Catching her slight jolt, he explained quick, "I thought your fit of laughing would cause you to fall out of the window." Her bright, nervous eyes dimmed a bit in understanding. Pushing his luck a bit, he leaned forward to grasp the window, closing it with a click, a lock least someone were to fly out or fall.

Nadine shivered. She could catch the scent of old books, musk, and his own scent. She wasn't sure what to say, couldn't even trust her own voice if she did. Instead she nodded. Her gaze flickered to his chest. Her breathing matched his after a moment.

"Can I see Zarzarak's hand?" The words tumbled from her mouth without restraint. It was so sudden and strong that it startled even Nadine. It ruined whatever sort of peace had taken over them. Whatever comfortable moment they shared was gone, thankfully to Nadine. She didn't need her mind to wonder…

"Why?" Monkey Fist raised a brow, suspicious.

The spell from before was definitely broken. Nadine responded coolly, "Having been trapped in here for three days, I've had plenty of time to think. And," she swallowed before looking away from his gaze. There was only a moment's hesitation before she slowly reached out for his left arm. Her fingertips brushed against his arm, traveling down.

The unexpected touch drew a sharp exhale from Monkey Fist. He let his arm move from behind his back, guided by the feather-like touch of Nadine as she moved down his arm to his wrist. It also enticed something of a chill to travel through his limbs. His lips remained parted as her fingers finally wrapped around his wrist and raised his hand up.

Then she paused. Their palms were so close to being pressed together, his right hand and her left hand, to lace their fingers together. Nadine switched her movement then, turning his hand so that his injured, though healing, palm faced up, resting on top of her scarred one.

Their eyes lowered. The mark on his palm was long and straight, the knife handle. It was still red and slightly raised, a blister from heat. Curious.

"I may have a theory of how to transfer the power." Nadine didn't dare speak above a whisper. This, this moment right now…this was one spell she didn't want to break. She was in control of it, at least of herself.

It took several heartbeats before Monkey Fist became animated once more, Nadine's words sinking in. When it did, his eyes widened and raised to meet hers. For the first time in weeks, his smile was one of true excitement like that of a child at Christmas. "Truly?!" He did not detect any malice in her expression. "Of course, so long as it doesn't involve harming or running it?"

Nadine gave a soft scoff, unaware of how she nearly mirrored his smile. "I would never harm or destroy a piece of history."

He nodded, obviously all too eager to let her test out her theory. It was only when he pulled away did she realize that his hand had remained in hers for so long. "Come along then, Miss Burnier." It went without saying that she wouldn't try to escape.

Monkey Fist's excitement was contagious. Nadine couldn't help but grin and feely giddy. Their walk through the halls felt longer than what it was. When they paused at a door, Monkey Fist opened it to reveal…a bed. Nadine blinked, stopping at the doorway as he went into what was probably a closet. It occurred to her then that this was his room.

Nadine's face turned a soft pink.

When he returned, he held a familiar sight. It was indeed Zarzarak's hand curled in a fist and slightly, ah, less mummified than before. Nadine blinked and looked at it closely as he held it. It was clear by his wide grin that he wanted to know what her theory was, but seemed polite enough to let her alone.

Nadine bit her lower lip as she looked it over. Her heart was pounding as time passed. She was so close, so very close to leaving if this was right. All she needed to do was…

Swallowing thickly, Nadine carefully reached out. She took the hand in her right hand. It was a fist, something she had been hoping against. Perhaps if she could open it somehow…she frowned. She wrapped her left hand around it, willing it, encouraging it with quiet pleas to open.

Time passed. Monkey Fist's smile slowly fell as Nadine's hope turned to despair. The hand refused to obey. After she tried to pry it open with sheer force, and failed miserably, she scowled. The mummified hand may have been thrown in frustration had Monkey Fist not taken it gently from her, placing it on a nearby table.

"God damn it!" Nadine almost shouted, startled when her own voice sounded choked up. It wasn't from the bruise of his previous anger, but the tears that had been forming every time she failed. "I thought…I thought," Nadine struggled with the words, but Monkey Fist didn't interrupt. "I thought I had it! The fucking sorcerer, he was friends with the monkey and…I thought maybe they had…a sign of friendship is, is handshake or something like that! I thought since the power had been transferred all in his hand that, that he would…that it took…it isn't fair!" She shouted as she covered her face. "I was so close to going home, I thought if I could just…fucking hell." She gave into the tears of disappointment at last.

Monkey Fist had to admit quietly that there was some level of brilliance in that. If the sorcerer had given away his power to his friend, it made sense that it would be in either a spell or some friendly manner. What use would it be, especially when it was to be secret from the villagers, to draw blood from his friend?

Against his better judgement, Monkey Fist raised his arms, offering. Nadine understood in her mess of emotions what he was offering. She stepped forward and buried her face into his chest as she cried, her arms wrapped around him. Her heart jumped when his arms were gingerly placed around her. In the midst of her tears, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of something towards him.

Nadine wasn't sure how long they stayed that way. She didn't even care how wrong this was, to draw comfort from the touch from her kidnapper, from the man who had hurt her. Even if he apologized for it, she shouldn't have felt herself become calm in his arms.

And yet here she was doing exactly that.

She shouldn't be letting her mind wander, focusing on his scent, his warmth, his heartbeat. She shouldn't be thinking about how she didn't want to pull away, how sad it was that they could never be. She shouldn't be thinking about what he might taste like, feel like deep inside her, sound like when they both reached competition.

And yet here she was doing exactly that.

Her cries had subsided. Now they were just holding each other in silence. His heartbeat, her breathing.

Nadine slowly raised her head to look at him, pulling away just enough to do so. He looked at her with clear eyes. His attention had not been on the hand the entire time, but on her, on…them. For another moment, they simply stared at each other.

What was there to say? That was a brilliant idea, but it didn't pan out, too bad? Looks like you're stuck here? Can I go home? Give up already? Should we try the virgin sacrifice again?

A small voice whispered in the back of her mind to just give in, to say fuck it, to do as she pleased. If she was going to be stuck here anyway, what was the point in protesting anymore? Or, at least, for now? Her gaze shifted from his to his lips.

Fuck it.

Nadine leaned forward and raised herself on her toes. Monkey Fist caught what she was doing, evident by the tightening grip around her waist. Their eyelids lowered in unison. Their lips pressed together. The kiss lingered, still for a moment, before they closed the space between them. It changed to a passionate kiss within moments.

And just like that, quick as it happened, they pulled apart. Nadine raised her hand to her lips, touching the grin she wore. Then her heart sunk a bit. Monkey Fist seemed to be on similar thought process. Nadine stepped away out of his grasp and out of his room.

"Good night…Monkey Fist." Nadine had to force the words from her throat though they burned. His name, his title. A space between them. Nothing could happen between them no matter how much she or he wanted.

And he knew that. "Good night…Miss Burnier." If he had spoken her first name, she may have gone weak and caved in. Luckily he did not, thankfully he did not. He knew what might happen if he did.

Then with some strange, though not awkward, level of trust, he shut his bedroom door. Nadine, with an odd sense of confusion and resignation, walked back to her room. When she shut the door, she threw herself onto the bed.

As she drifted off to sleep, there was no click of the lock this time.