It was years ago.

I'd just left the apartment I was sharing with a 'conceptual artist'. God only knows what concept he was trying to encapsulate on canvas, the fact remained he ate very little and ingested an unholy amount of recreational drugs. He was always good for the rent though. We had nothing in common; however my kitchen was always clean even if I had to put up with his occasional night terrors.

Anyway.

As I said, I'd just left my apartment. I remember I had entertained a vague notion of hitting the gym and maybe then a bar afterwards. Fairly redundant as whatever fitness or fat burning I'd achieve would be instantly annihilated by the vast amount of beer I was planning to consume, but, I meant well.

I walked the fairly short distance to the gym, distracted by the rain pitter pattering off the ground. I was so engrossed in the raindrops that I walked smack bang into him.

'Hey, watch where you're going kid.'

It was the voice that did it. At once I became both fearful and defiant. I turned my face upwards and met his eyes.

'Funny who you run into in the slums isn't it? What brings you down to my level?'

His pupils dilated and he subtly recoiled. I could see that he was immediately regretting getting involved in this conversation. He was wildly clamouring for an escape from this situation. I had no intention to provide such a salvation.

'How many years has it been, my old friend?'

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. He's not as hard and fit as he once was. In fact his flesh has the appearance and I imagine the texture of uncooked pastry. Pliable. Easy to mould and delicious to destroy. In fact, I am actually taller than him now. Once he was the centre of my universe. I felt the unmistakable tang of vengeance fill my mouth and cloud my senses. I will enjoy this I thought, I will!

'You better be careful Shabba. The slums are dangerous for tourists. Better stick with me. After all, who better to trust than an old friend? Don't you worry, I'll look after you.'

I decided to forgo the gym as I reasoned that the extra poundage I was carrying could come in handy. He seemed so detached from reality, the shock of meeting me was clearly so unexpected it had temporarily robbed him of his senses. All the better for me to capitalise on.

'How about a beer for old time's sake? You always liked beer. I know a great little bar up here. Run by an old bastard most of the time but he has a beautiful assistant. Sadly she's only part time, but man, what legs! She can throw me out any time, so long as I can be pressed against her chest for at least one second.'

He nodded and I began to steer him in the direction of the bar. He's still not uttered one word since he clocked my face and realised who I was. I must admit, I am a little disappointed that he's following me so meekly. I was expecting some sort of chase, a few miles at least. Maybe across a few sectors. Oh well, I guess I shouldn't complain that he's making it easy for me.

We reached the bar and I found us a table. He sat; still catatonic and I went to the bar. The gorgeous girl was serving. Delighted, I stared at her for an impolite amount of time before placing my order of beer, beer and more beer. She took it all in good humour though, I guess with assets her size she must receive a lot of attention. The miniskirt doesn't help matters.

She dumped three tankards overflowing with the house beer on the bar. I paid, tipped and treated her to a lecherous wink, which in all fairness she did not retaliate to by cracking my skull open with a vodka bottle but merely giggled and turned to serve someone else. A class act.

I returned to Shabba who is still as still and shocked as I left him. I am amazed that his mouth hasn't lolled open and he's started drooling. There's always time. I push a tankard towards him and am relieved when he reaches for it and begins to drink.

As I suspected, he can't match my prowess for drinking. I have consumed three tankards by the time that he's finished his first. As the alcohol works its magic on his system, he begins to look less frightened and shy and more menacing. Well he tries. He can't scare me anymore.

I first met Shabba when I was sixteen. I was working in a general store in Sector Two. No one talks about the second sector much. It's no better and no worse than any other sector- except maybe Sector Six and Wall Market. In any case, Sector Two had its fair share of deviants and the poverty stricken. My place of work as I mentioned was a general store, but, only by day. At night it turned into an illegal Sheebeen- a drinking den. We only served whiskey. Regardless, we were always packed. I didn't mind much, the tips were good and I had rent to pay. It was there that I met him.

Naturally being only sixteen, you can bet your ass that I was far too young to be working there but no one seemed to care too much. That was until the Lawkeepers broke down the doors and took us all in for questioning over a suspected double murder that had happened in our bathroom. I was as ignorant as the rest but that didn't stop me being thoroughly questioned. Shabba was assigned to me when it transpired how old or rather how young I actually was. He was pretty young himself at the time and he told me that he was there to protect me. We struck up an instant friendship. We had some sort of mutual connection and I felt instantly drawn to him. Trust me, I know how insane that sounds coming from someone like me, but at the time I was a little less worldly wise and I still believe to this day that we had something special.

When we were eventually released from custody, Shabba insisted on accompanying me home. We walked through the murky streets and laughed and joked as though we'd known each other all our lives. I was young, I was stupid and I had fallen for a Lawkeeper. I'm not saying that I fell in love with him then and there; but I did fall certainly into a deep friendship with the man. When we reached the hovel I was living in, I asked him in but he refused. As he walked away he shouted that he'd see me again soon. I went to sleep that night with the most unusual feeling. It was excitement. Excitement that someone cared enough about me to consider seeing me again.

Weeks went by without any further contact from him. At first I was angry then upset. Finally I just came to accept that as a Lawkeeper, he was bound to say things he didn't mean, if only to keep the peace. I decided to move on. It was at this point that I began experimenting with sex and alcohol. I was pretty and I made more tips that way. I screwed around like a champ but not once did I ever find a connection like the one I had with Shabba.

One night I was walking home from work. It was raining again but I didn't mind. I'd made a small fortune. The army was doing a training exercise in the sector and they'd heard of us. The Sheebeen had been busier than usual and I had made myself some extra cash by being extra friendly with a young grunt that missed his girlfriend. Sometimes being androgynous was a blessing. As I walked home, I discreetly fingered the money in pocket, counting it and making plans on what to spend it on. A new apartment definitely. Perhaps I could start drinking something that wasn't whiskey. A proper meal: meat, veg, the works. I was so lost in my own thoughts, I slammed right into him. I dropped the coins that I was holding. They fell to the ground along with the raindrops, scattered around our feet. He took my chin in his hand and raised my face until I was looking directly into his eyes. Then he kissed me.

It was a taboo relationship from the start. He may have been young but he was still older than me. He knew where I worked and the illegal capacity that I was employed there. By Law, he should've turned me in then and there. Lawkeepers were forbidden to enter into relationships, especially with gutter rats like me. He'd faced some dreadful punishment if we'd been caught. From my point of view, entering into a relationship with a Lawkeeper lost me my job, my home and my independence. But neither of us cared. He left the Lawkeepers and we moved to Wall Market. He started doing security for the Don of the area and I found work in the bar.

We lived happily together for a few months. He'd go out to work and so would I. When we came home we'd tell each other about our day and I'd cook him dinner. We were as content as I'd ever thought we could be. He never mentioned the sacrifices he'd made for me and I never asked. I loved him. He loved me. We were happy…

Until I came home one night and found him in bed with someone else. My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces that even the most skilled glass smith would had a hard time trying to reassemble it. I hauled him out of bed and screamed at him. He was bigger and stronger than me and he just let me rant and rave at him. He just stood there, like a shell. Everything I loved about him was missing. It was like he had been replaced with a clone. He looked like Shabba, but he wasn't. Eventually when I had exhausted myself, I asked the one question that I wanted so badly answered.

'Why?'

He looked at me with eyes full of pity.

'Because, my assignment's over.'

'What?'

But even as I said it, I heard footsteps on the stairs, the crackle of static from radios. Even as the Lawkeepers burst into my living room, I didn't react. I just thought back to the night that Shabba had kissed me in the pouring rain and how he had told me that he loved me. I felt hollow, I felt empty. He had betrayed me and I like the fool I was, I had let him.

One of them tackled me to the ground. I hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, my sanity and my heart fragments rolling about the floor for anyone to step on. Something inside me snapped. Payback would be swift and deadly. They were restraining me. My hands and feet were tied together. The Chief Lawkeeper entered the house and threw me a look of sheer disgust. He walked over to Shabba, whilst someone gagged me. He put a hand on his shoulder, a congratulatory gesture. In his other hand he held a small curved blade.

'You know what must be done.'

Shabba looked at the blade and back at the chief.

'This was never part of the plan sir. This is unnecessary.'

The chief spares me another look.

'Our orders state that he is to be delivered to the Turks. God only knows what they'll teach him. Brand him, so we will always know who to watch for.'

Shabba looks at me. He looks back at his commander. He knows he has no choice. Now I know why they gagged me. He approaches me and takes my head in his hands. So very softly he whispers,

'I'm sorry.'

Then he cuts me.

Back in the present, it looks as though my companion has something to say.

'I never agreed with what they done to you.'

'Actually, it was you who done it to me.'

'You know what I mean.'

'I don't actually, please explain.'

He closes his eyes and downs his beer before replying to my question.

'You asked me that day, why? And I never answered you. At least not fully. I was young and foolish and had my eyes on the top job. One below the chief. The deputy chief. I wanted to make it before the age of twenty five. I was twenty three when I met you and you blew me away. I'd never met anyone like you.'

'Spare me the flattery Shabba.'

'I'm serious. You were so young and beautiful. So funny. You had such a unique outlook on life. I tried not to be attracted to you. I tried so hard but I fell for you almost instantly.'

I nod but say nothing.

'They sent me to watch you. They knew you were working in the Sheebeen illegally. They also knew that you were, somewhat generous with your body if the price was right. You probably won't remember this, but the soldier that you helped the night I met you again was actually quite high up. I think he was a general. In any case, the higher ups were concerned that if word got out that he and you had meddled…well it would be highly embarrassing for the army.'

'Hmm. Go on.'

'There was one guy. I forget his name but he was in our briefing room when I was being assigned to watch you. He said very little. He just said that I wasn't to hurt you and that he wanted you for the programme.'

Ah the programme. A euphemism for training if ever I've heard one. Must've been Tseng. That man is everywhere. Every time I turn over the stones of my past, he slithers out like some sort of snake.

'He also told me one last thing as I left the room. He told me: don't fall in love.'

'Wise words.'

We sit in silence for a moment. Unfortunately, the barmaid comes over and tells us its closing time. We finish our beer quickly and before I know it, we're outside. It's raining again. I have no luck with the weather.

'Where are you staying Shabba?'

'Not far.'

'I'll walk you home.'

'You don't have to.'

'No, I'd like to.'

We fall into step beside each other. It's almost like old times, pounding the streets in the rain.

'Did you make it then?'

'What?' He looks at me quizzically.

'Deputy Chief. Was it worth a promotion? Was it?'

I stop suddenly. I turn to face him. His eyes are filled with sadness, the same sadness I felt when I realised that he had betrayed me and everything we had. He opens his mouth and whispers his answer.

'I never made Chief. I never made Deputy Chief. I stayed where I was. Their promises amounted to nothing but a mountain of shit. I threw away everything that ever mattered to me for a lie. It's haunted me. Every night I go to sleep and I still see your face as I bend over and press the blade at the top of your cheek. I can still hear your muffled screams. I know what they did to you during training and it tears me up inside that I never did anything. It makes me sick that I was so selfish. But I was and nothing I say or do will change that.'

Suddenly he grabs me and roughly pushes me against the wall. He kisses me forcefully. It's a kiss of regret and anguish, flavoured with tears and sorrow. He's still crying when the bullet passes through his stomach and through his spine. He collapses and I catch him in my arms. He raises his hand and strokes my scars under my eyes.

'I'm so sorry Reno. Forgive me. I love you.

He dies in my arms a few moments later. I leave his body where it fell and holster my gun. I brush away the tears on my cheeks and begin to walk home. As I do I remember what Tseng had told him:

Don't Fall In Love.

Good advice Tseng. Good advice.