A/N I am so sorry this has taken so long and thanks for sticking with me guys! There'll be another couple of chapters after this one. I know where I'm going with this... it's just taking me a while to get there! But we're winding up for the big finale now! :D

Chapter 12 Pairing Up

Tim had never moved so carefully. He concentrated on one part of his body at a time, ensuring he stayed in complete control of the location of his limbs. The secret was not to rush, which was difficult, as he was desperate to get to Mike. Sarah lay fast asleep beside him and he was delicately inched his way out from under her. He slipped out of the bed, soundlessly pulled on his clothes and crept over to the wall of keys, searching along with his fingers until he found the one numbered nineteen. Mike's cell.

After Tim had given Sarah what she wanted, he had persuaded her to let Mike go back to his cell. Tim had watched, dry-mouthed with anxiety, as he was led away on the screen. At least while Mike had been there, he could see that he was all right. But he had no idea where that cell was, which would have made rescuing Mike from it pretty difficult. His influence over Sarah stemmed from the fact that she was clearly besotted with him, and genuinely seemed to believe that he loved her again. She had told him over and over how much she desired him and how amazing the sex had been. A tiny, fleeting satisfaction had presented itself to him at the knowledge that he could outperform Duane in bed, even though he was both a zombie and an unwilling participant. Tim had displayed impressive acting skills, convincing Sarah that he had enjoyed having sex with her, and more importantly, that he could be trusted. She trusted him to such an extent that she had even given a radio message to her guards that he was allowed to walk about the mansion freely, as he was her pet. Tim had repressed the indignant anger he felt at being referred to as such, as the command to leave him alone was far too precious to endanger. Sarah had eventually fallen into a contented sleep beside him and, under the circumstances, he could hardly have hoped for a better outcome. After stealing the key to Mike's cell, Tim walked out of her room as if he owned the place. When guards approached him, he only had to give his number and they allowed him to pass unhindered.

Daisy, meanwhile, had spent a mostly sleepless night in Tim's bed after he was taken, drowning in the scent of him everywhere. She got up frequently to check on the potion, which smelled slightly less vile the longer it boiled, and waited for sunrise. When eventually the morning came, she contacted James and he came to meet her at the flat.

"Hello, Daisy." He was as polite as ever, but looked tired as he took off his coat and hung it on the back of the door.

"Hi. Thanks for coming round. I could hardly sleep a wink last night. How about you?"

"It was rather difficult, yes. It's the waiting around. I hate not knowing he's alright."

Daisy nodded her understanding and they looked at each other for a moment.

"I'm sure he's fine." James nodded back, clearly unable to reply without losing control of his emotions. "D'you fancy a cup of tea?" She asked. He managed a small smile in response and nodded again. "Have a seat." Daisy turned her back and busied herself making the tea, giving James time to compose himself again. By the time she turned around and handed him a steaming mug, he smiled properly back at her.

"Thank you."

Daisy found herself unexpectedly taking charge then. The day was spent talking about their friends and repeatedly reciting the spell. James was a fantastic support, helping her learn the words, but insisted he would not be able to remember them himself. He quailed at the idea of being responsible for such a vital part of the rescue. She was surprised to discover this lack of self confidence, as the initial impression James gave was one of calm assurance. With her writer's command of the English language, it was not the spell that worried Daisy in any case, it was the potion. It bubbled away throughout the day, as they had agreed to leave it as long as possible due to the foul ingredients. She was convinced it had the potential to make Tim and Mike very ill, and was sure irony would enjoy saving them from a zombie curse whilst simultaneously giving them some deadly disease only contractable from eating bat excrement. Of course, no doctor would be able to diagnose or treat such an illness, on account of it not having been discovered yet, on account of no one being previously daft or desperate enough to eat bat poo. Daisy had explained all this in a barely comprehensible babble to James, who had gently suggested that perhaps she was over thinking because she was nervous and worried about her boyfriend (his words) and his best friend. Apparently far more composed on this issue than he had been about the spell, James had given her a hug and talked calmly to her. He was very calming, actually. And very nice to look at. Not that she looked unduly, of course, being in love with Tim. They exchanged comfort and reassurance in this way, and drank endless cups of tea, as time dripped, painfully slowly, down the clock.

Darkness had fallen outside as Tim weaved his way around the corridors of the mansion, adopting various stories regarding where he was going when questioned, until he eventually found the sort of heavy wooden door that could only lead to an underground system of dungeons and torture chambers. He had nicked a baseball cap from one of the guards without them noticing, and pulled it down to conceal his zombie eyes, which were a bit of a giveaway. When all this was over and he was fully human again, something of which he had no doubt now things were going so well, he would secretly miss those zombie eyes. They were insanely cool, if he was honest. He had glimpsed himself in the mirror in Sarah's bathroom and, without being too narcissistic, he could see why she was obsessed with him. Forcing such egotistical thoughts to the back of his easily distracted brain (it seemed he was impossibly vain as a zombie) he pushed the large door. It swung open to with a stereotypically spooky creaking sound. Tim almost laughed, the place was so over the top, it was completely ridiculous. The corridor behind the door sloped downwards, obviously heading underground into the network of cells hidden from view at the surface. Intermittent illumination was provided by wooden stakes set alight and resting in fittings on the walls, actual flaming torches, leading him to wonder again at Duane's lack of imagination. He lifted one out of its housing and carried it with him. It would make an excellent weapon, should the need arise. Somewhat disappointingly for Tim, it did not. He advanced quickly down the corridor completely unchallenged. He moved swiftly, knowing he had an hour and a half to free Mike from his cell, and get the two of them plus Henry to the meeting point with Daisy. He was confident that was sufficient time, but not if he dawdled about. He searched along the network of tunnels, chuckling again to himself at the inappropriately helpful signs on the walls explaining the locations of all the cells. Following the instructions to find cells fifteen to twenty, he hurried past the numbered cell doors until he reached nineteen.

"Mike!" He hissed through the door, hoping to gain only his attention. There was a silence. Tim leaned close to the door and listened. Then he heard it. A deep rumbling, grumbling noise. Shit. Mike was snoring. Tim groaned, knowing how difficult it was to rouse a sleeping Mike at the best of times, let alone a zombie version. He inserted the key and unlocked the door, checking up and down the corridor one last time before entering the cell.