"Relax, Jeff. We'll get out of here."
"I only wish I believed you." Spender paced the length of the cell, then spun to face the man lounging on the narrow cot. "How could you be so stupid, Alex?"
"You heard what he said to me."
"Yeah and I heard him apologise too." Spender fingered the tear and dirt on his green-striped shirt, his favourite shirt, his lucky shirt, that he had worn today. Not lucky enough, apparently.
"Words were spoken, they can't be taken back." Rolling over, Krycek braced his boots on the wall.
Resting his head on the bars that divided them from the outside world, Spender sighed. "If you want to fight, then fight, but I'm never going to forgive you for getting me involved in this."
"Noted for the future."
Before he realised what he was doing, Spender had crossed the cell and pinned Krycek to the cot, hands dangerously close to his neck. "There will be no future if we're stuck here all night."
Surprise and something almost like fear flitted across Krycek's face. "Trust me, Jeff. Any time now."
Just then, just as Spender's breathing began to turn to angry heaves, just as his fingers began to curl perilously in Krycek's collar, a policeman came to the cell door.
"The guy's not pressing charges." Keys jangled as he turned the lock. "You're free to go."
Spender forced himself to let go and stood, then, automatically, gave Krycek a hand up. "You were right. How did you know?"
"Do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side," Krycek said and they left to go line up at the theatre.
FINIS
I hate it