rae1112- I thought the cold remark would be nice. I didn't feel like having them reveal their feelings just yet, though I could have done it then. And I think this chapter, and the next, will be the real climax. I won't say any more though!

Im perfectly imperfect- I didn't mean the joke, I meant can I borrow the chunk of wood to hit Woody with. (hits Woody again and gives chunk of wood back) I've never been much of a G/J fan. he's too much like a father in my opinion. though I guess one could argue that Nigel is too much like a brother. Lol. Oh well. G/J is way better than W/J! Woody is too much of a jerk!

Mac3- Yes, scenes like that are very fun to write for some reason.

pryrmtns- lol. Woody shall always be a jerk.

KittyDoggyLover- Yes, what he did was very rude, to say the least. My dad doesn't agree, and it bugs the crap out of me!

Orlando-crazy- Lol. Thank you.

This is one of the chapters that I couldn't wait to write. (Climax's are fun!) Enjoy!

The Basement

Chapter 7: Precious Time

- Nigel -

I knew that I would never forget the moment when I found her. The icy cold of her skin, the weakness of her voice, the desperation in which she clung to me, would all stay burned in my memory for however much longer I lived. It was a scar. I don't know how long we sat there. Neither of us had watches so we could never tell what time of day it was. We would sleep when we were tired, wake up again minutes to hours later, always in the black and the cold. I learned what it must be like to be blind. There was no escape from the darkness, and I felt oddly trapped.

"Jordan," I said quietly, preparing myself for what I was about to tell her, for I had not yet revealed my secret love for her. "Love?"

"Yes?" she whispered back. I took a breath.

"There's something I need to say. Something that should have been said a long, long time ago, that I promised myself that I would tell you if I saw you again." Good God, this was difficult. Jordan ran her hand across my cheek.

"You don't need to tell me," she said softly. "I already know." This shocked me so much that I could neither say nor do anything for a few seconds.

When I regained my voice I said, "You know?"

"Yes," she replied, "and it took me this long to figure it out. We've been friends for what, ten years? It took me that long to realize it." She seemed almost in tears. "But I realized something else as well," she continued, "before I knew how you felt about me. I realized how I feel about you." My heart skipped a beat as she brought her face close to mine.

"I love you," she whispered. I found that I had stopped breathing and quickly started again. We sat there for a moment.

Then I said, "You do?"

"Yes," she said. "And I'm sorry. I've not only neglected you, but also taken advantage of you. You'd do anything for me. I used that far too often. And I never realized, not until now…oh God, I'm so sorry Nigel. So sorry…" She was crying again, and I pulled her closer to me.

"Love," I said soothingly, coming out of my shocked state. "Love, please, don't cry. It's alright Jordan. It's always been alright. Don't cry." I felt her move her head and could tell that she was looking at me, or as close as she could come in the dark. Slowly we moved towards each other until our lips touched. I suddenly found myself kissing her deeply, and Jordan kissing just as deeply in return. I was in shock again. I had dreamed of this moment for over ten years, and finally it came as I never thought it would. We continued our kiss for awhile, both of us reluctant to end it. Eventually we pulled away from each other. I was smiling and could tell that she was doing the same. I didn't know how much time we had left to live, but I knew that it would at least be the happiest time of my life. Because now I had Jordan.

- Jordan -

Time passed considerably easier now that Nigel and I were together. I started to figure that Mitchell's plan for murder was simply to let me starve to death in the dark and the cold. Nigel would probably suffer the same fate. Well, at least it wasn't nearly as painful as I had imagined, and it meant that there was more, not much, but more, of a chance that we would be rescued. It also meant that if it came to it, as it most likely would, I would probably die before Nigel. This was a good thing; I didn't want to have to watch him die. It would be too much. I still felt guilty that he was here.

There was no way to know exactly how much time had passed, yet it must have been days. Both of us were starved and weak, for neither of us had had anything to eat since McDonalds. I didn't know how much longer we would last. Nigel's large coat, or rather, coats, helped a bit, but it wasn't enough to keep the bitter cold at bay, and we were almost constantly shivering. We never moved from our spot in the corner, trying to conserve as much body heat as possible. Even so, I knew I was likely to pass out soon, possibly within a couple of hours. I realized that I would never see Nigel's face again, for my eyes hadn't adjusted much to the darkness.

Yet just as this thought crossed my mind, the door opened and light flooded in. I blinked and squinted, not used to the brightness. When I was able to see again, I saw Mitchell coming down the stairs. I took opportunity to look at Nigel, to see his face, to look into his eyes, for the first time in days. His hair was frizzy and out of place and he looked distinctly unshaven. I knew that I couldn't look much better, but I didn't care. When Mitchell reached us, I saw he was carrying two plates of bread and cups of water.

He set these down in front of us, and said gruffly, "Here. Enjoy it while you can."

"So you're not starving us to death," I said with as much strength as I could muster. Mitchell smiled.

"You wish," he said in a voice of pure evil. "I have a much more painful death planned for you Dr. Cavanaugh." I felt Nigel tighten his arms around me slightly. Great, I thought. We were back to the torturous murder again.

"As for you Dr. Townsend," Mitchell continued, "you're simply an intruder in all of this, and will not have to endure such a painful death as Dr. Cavanaugh. Yet you will still suffer. You will be hung." I felt Nigel stiffen slightly. He took a deep breath.

"When?" he asked weakly. Mitchell grinned the evil grin that I had come to hate so quickly.

"Tomorrow," he said calmly. It was my turn to tighten my arms around Nigel.

Tomorrow?

"And when exactly is tomorrow?" Nigel asked determinedly.

"Oh, of course," said Mitchell. "I'd forgotten that you lose sense of time down here. Let me put it this way: you have about eight hours left to live Townsend. Enjoy it." He turned abruptly and left the basement. Nigel and I took one last look into each other's eyes before we were plunged into blackness once more.

"Nigel," I whispered breathlessly. "Oh God, Nigel…" He tightened his arms around me again.

"Shh," he said soothingly as I began to cry again, my face against his chest. "It's alright Jordan." But it wasn't alright. Eight hours. He had only eight hours left to live. Eight hours for us to be together. I hadn't been planning on living after Nigel's death. I had thought that I would be gone before then. But now I would see him suffer. I would stand there and watch him die.

I had been hoping that he would be there for me, his strong arms there to comfort me through my own death. I had hoped that the last thing I heard would be his voice, the last thing I felt, his warmth. But no, the last thing I heard would probably be my own screams or Mitchell's insane laugh as he tortured me, my last feeling, blinding pain. And now my shivers were not purely from the cold anymore, but also from fear. I buried my head further into Nigel's chest as he rubbed my back with one of his hands.

Eight hours…

The time, which seemed to snail by before, was suddenly going at double speed. I fell asleep at one point, which I regretted after waking up several hours later. Time was too precious. Nigel and I spent his last few hours talking, comforting each other mainly. I cried more than once as the clock ticked slowly towards the end of Nigel's life. He didn't seem remotely afraid, seeming more concerned about me than him. This didn't change even as we saw the door open and Mitchell coming downstairs with, to my horror, a length of thick rope and a small stool. I tightened my grip on Nigel, and he did the same for me. It just couldn't be time yet. It just couldn't be over…

"I hope you've enjoyed the last few hours of your life Dr. Townsend," Mitchell said with yet another evil grin, and a wave of pure loathing washed over me. I watched, terrified as he tied the rope to one of the support beams and beckoned Nigel over. I felt him give me one last short squeeze before he stood and walked slowly and calmly to where his own death lay. I stood up as well as Mitchell tied the rope tightly around Nigel's neck, who was standing on the stool. Then Mitchell took a step back.

"Last words?" he said gleefully. My eyes were brimmed with tears as I stepped forwards and took Nigel's hands in mine, each of us clinging tightly to the other's.

"Nigel," I whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"No," he said, "it's not your fault. I didn't have to come for you."

"But you did," I insisted. "You did come. And now…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Jordan," he said soothingly. I looked into his eyes as more tears cascaded down my face. "Listen to me. I would rather die now than live on and never have been able to see you again, to never know how you felt about me."

"I love you," I said shakily, unable to keep the grief from my voice. Mitchell chuckled, but we ignored him.

"I love you too Jordan," Nigel said. "More than anything." He scooted back a bit on his stool and I stepped in the space that he had cleared, pushing myself up on one foot. He reached up and gently brushed some of the tears off of my face. For a moment, we simply looked into each other's eyes. Then our lips came together in a passionate, almost desperate, kiss. We held it for as long as we could, until Mitchell finally pulled me roughly away.

I turned to him and said, "Let me hold his hand." To my surprise, Mitchell nodded.

"I don't care. It's you who I want to suffer Cavanaugh. However," his evil grin made a reappearance, "you will kick the stool." I felt my whole body freeze, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. I was numb, paralyzed, shocked. Mitchell laughed as he saw my eyes widen in horror. He pointed his gun at me.

"Now." I turned towards Nigel, who gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

"It's alright love," he said. Tears were rolling down his face as well as mine now. I turned and looked almost desperately at Mitchell, who simply jerked his gun in a way that told me he wanted me to get a move on. Nigel gave my hand another squeeze. I looked back at him, my vision blurred with bitter tears, and he gave a nod. I paused for one last desperate moment, staring into his eyes, then I put one foot against the rim of the stool.

"I'm sorry," I said, and shoved it away.

How's that for a cliffhanger? Lol. Sorry for the overabundance of Jordan. Review and I'll update soon!