I smoked quietly as I savored the cool night air, looking over my shoulder from time to time out of habit. Leaning over the stone balustrade of the bridge, I stared down at the dark waters of the river flowing beneath my feet. It was a beautiful night, and I felt at home in the concealing darkness. Who knows, maybe it's because I had a lot of things to hide.

Before I even heard the footsteps, I sensed his approach. Any minute now, I told myself. Exhaling slowly, I tried to calm my rapidly pounding pulse.

"Glad you could make it," I said, turning around to find him hovering inches from me. His dark brown eyes shone faintly. Even in the unflattering jaundiced light of the street lamps, he looked good. He was wearing a thin white T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, but it didn't matter. He could have been wearing a bloody garbage sack and I would still have been drooling all over myself like a moron. Shit, I get moony like a fucking schoolgirl every time he's around. It's enough to make a man sick.

A few strands of his longish brown hair fell into his eyes, and he casually brushed them away.

"Never could sneak up on you," he said, grinning. He wrapped his arms around me in an embrace so tight I wondered if he had already guessed my answer. I reveled in the moment though, memorizing every sensation from the scent of his shampoo to the feel of his hands on my back. I wanted it to last forever; but time, like the river beneath us, was flowing faster than I could paddle. We were being swept downstream in a raging torrent of events that would eventually smash us to bits against the jagged rocks of fate.

Before my imagination could find even more depressing things to compare my situation to, I stepped back, breaking our contact.

"So," he began conversationally, pulling the journal out of his pocket. He brandished it slightly. "What's your answer?"

"I can't," I told him flatly.

I detected the almost inaudible sound of his breath hitching in his throat.

"After all that, you're telling me you're going to stay?" he growled in frustration, his hands gripping the stone railing so hard that I was afraid he would break it.

"It's not that simple. Geese needs me, especially now after this whole Bogard fiasco," I replied, carefully avoiding the real issues.

"How can you still defend him? Lily was right, you know! He's just using you. You don't owe him anything!" he whispered, his hands gesturing to punctuate his words.

It was eerie the way he had negated almost word for word everything Geese had said.

"You don't understand, Jack!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down so we wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. "Even if that was true, he thinks I owe him! Do you think for one bleedin' moment that he'd just let me walk away? You think I won't end up just like Lily?"

"What are you telling me? You tellin' me you're afraid of him? You?"

"Don't make me out to be some kind of bloody coward!" I snarled. "You don't know what he's capable of. I've been there, and I've seen it! He'll send someone, someone just like me, to track us down. We'll never be safe, no matter where we go. Do you really want to live the rest of your life looking over your fucking shoulder?"

His forehead creased in a frown.

"The world's a lot bigger than you think it is. Just because he rules South Town doesn't mean he can find you anywhere. I start the Korean circuit next week…come on, Billy, come with me. You'll like Korea; it's beautiful this time of year," he cajoled, slipping his hands beneath the straps of my overalls to stroke my back gently.

I looked away from his pleading eyes, full of a fervent love that was in stark contrast with Geese's lack thereof. I didn't want to hurt him, but it didn't seem like I had much of a choice.

"It's not about that anyway. I just don't want to go."

I could feel the taut muscles under his skin bunching and flexing as he grabbed me roughly.

"You gonna fuckin' lie to me, Billy Kane?" he spat, anger shattering his usual equanimity.

His reaction was surprising, to say the least. Jack never cursed. In fact, he didn't act much like any other fighter I'd ever met. Most guys were loud, cocky, and arrogant. A lot of them were stupid, brash, or just plain mean. But Jack was none of those things; he was always quiet, his movements reserved and deliberate. His touch was warm and firm, not exactly gentle, but not like Geese, either. In Jack's dark eyes you could see a quick wit and sardonic humor, as if he thought everything was funny. No, I'd never seen Jack angry. Even inside the ring, his composure never slipped. So to see him so pissed off was disturbing, to say the least.

I frowned.

"What difference is the truth going to make? You're just going to want to fight it, and you can't fuckin' fight this, al'right? You're just going to have to accept that this is the way it is."

"I'm not going to just accept anything! There has to be something we can do." he stated with a certainty that I found not only naïve but foolish as well.

"Don't you get it yet? There doesn't 'have to be' anything." My exasperation was evident as I leaned on the bridge railing, staring out at the dark waters of the rushing river. As hard as I thought this was going to be, it was, in reality, a thousand times harder. Why couldn't he just give it up? I couldn't really be worth all this trouble.

Jack sighed.

"Dammit, Billy, don't you ever wonder what it would have been like if you'd run away that day?"

I snorted.

"Of course." Only every fucking day since it happened. Maybe not consciously, but the thought was always there, in the back of my mind. Why hadn't I done anything? Why'd I just sit there and take it? And the answers would come - because I was too stupid, too weak, too afraid - and they were worse than the questions.

"Well, now's your chance. You're not a little kid anymore, Billy. You're not powerless."

The problem was, it still felt like I was.

He was about to speak again when he fell silent at the approach of footsteps. We tried to act casual, breaking out cigarettes and smoking them as slowly as possible. The bloke was almost past us when he paused, turning around to stare at us in the dim lighting.

"What you starin' at, mate?" I asked, allowing a hard edge of violence to creep into my voice that usually scares most people off.

"You…" the stranger rasped.

I blinked, my mind searching quickly to put a name to that familiar voice. My hand reached reflexively for my weapon, my feet already sliding into an offensive stance. Beside me, I felt Jack tense.

The stranger suddenly stepped into the light, and my eye caught the long sweep of yellow hair in the same instant he charged.

"I'll kill you!" Bogard screamed as he leapt at me.

I had just enough time to dodge as the force of the blow smashed the stone balustrade behind me. Even as I rolled he was coming at me again, his fists flying in a steady stream of powerful attacks. Already having been defeated by his younger brother earlier in the day, I was in no condition to fight him. The most I could do was dodge his flurry of kicks and punches, and even then I wasn't faring too well.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jack move, his lithe form dancing lightening-quick just at the edge of my field of vision.

"Jack, NO!" I shouted, but too late. Terry's power wave flung him into the air, landing him several feet away.

Bogard came at me again, rage fueling his every move. I guess I couldn't blame him, but I wasn't about to lie down and just take it.

"Stop! Wait!" My mind whirled…what could I say to make him stop? I suddenly seized on something.

"Lily! I loved her too, Bogard!" I shouted, even as a glancing blow knocked me to the ground.

He paused then, standing over me with a murderous gleam in his eye.

"What did you say?" he snarled.

"Lily…I loved her too, mate. She was right…about Geese, about everything. I just wished I'd figured that out before it was too late. But at least she's free now…at least she finally got the escape she wanted." I talked rapidly, words rushing out of me so fast I barely had time to think about what I was saying. Deep down I knew that if he chose to kill me, there was little to nothing that I could do about it. Keeping him talking was the only defense I had.

"What do you know about how she felt?" he gritted, eyes glittering with grief, hatred, vengeance.

"A damn sight more than you do! Who do you think bleedin' raised her, mate? Don't you think I miss her too?"

"You're nothing but a cold-hearted son of a bitch. If you cared about her so much, how could you let her die?"

"I wasn't there…you were. How could /you/ let her die?" I spat.

He glowered at me speechlessly.

"You got your revenge, Bogard. What the hell do you want from me?" I tried to stand, but he pressed one sneakered foot to my chest.

"You stay right there," he growled. "For what you did to Master Tung…I want you dead, that's what I want!"

"Wait." Jack said softly. I hadn't even noticed him, but he was now standing next to me, ready to fend off the blond fighter if he made any more sudden moves in my direction.

Terry squinted in the gloom.

"I know you. You're Jack Lee, the former Taekwondo champion, and winner of the European title two years in a row. I saw you fight at the tournament."

Jack chuckled.

"Gee, I didn't think the great Terry Bogard followed my career."

"I could hardly fail to notice," Bogard replied amiably.

I coughed, afraid they'd forgotten about me in light of their mutual ego stroking. Fighters!

Bogard's eyes narrowed at me, and he ground his heel into my chest. I coughed for real this time, and tasted the familiar tang of bloody phlegm. Shit.

"What're you doing hanging around with this piece of trash?" He stomped on me again, I assume just for spite.

I saw Jack's jaw clench, but he restrained himself. Reaching down slowly, his eyes never leaving Bogard's face, he took my hand. Getting the hint, Terry removed his foot, and Jack promptly hauled me to my feet. I coughed and spat over the side of the bridge, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

Jack stared hard at Terry, his eyes were sharp black points that knifed into the blond fighter.

"Billy doesn't work for Geese anymore. He's coming with me, to Korea."

My mouth opened and closed, but no protests could escape. That little shit!

Bogard eyed me sharply.

"Is that true?"

I hesitated.

"Yeah," I mumbled finally. Hell, what else could I say?

The American fighter nodded and crossed his arms.

"So…you were telling the truth. But after what happened to Lily, I doubt Geese'll let you go that easily."

I shrugged.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing."

"So?"

"So what?"

Jack coughed.

"I hate to interrupt your little pissing contest, but I have an idea that just might work. That is, if Terry will agree to it."

Bogard frowned.

"That depends."

Jack nodded, then held his hand out to me, palm up.

"Give me your bo."

I shook my head, taking a step back away from him.

"Why?"

"You'll see," he answered enigmatically.

He stepped closer to me, and I tensed. I didn't want to fight him, but I'd die before I let anyone take my weapon.

He sighed, placing his hand on mine, which was still gripping the bo like a bloody lifeline.

"Please, Billy. Trust me?"

Goddammit, how could he ask me that? He knows I can't just do it. After so many years of bullshit, how could I? But then I looked up at him, and I saw that bloody look in his eyes, that one that makes me want to do anything for him. Fuck.

Slowly, reluctantly, I handed it to him.

Unexpectedly, I felt an immeasurable loss as I parted with it, as if a piece of me was being cut away. It was, of course, just a stupid stick, nothing but a little wood and varnish. But still.

Jack, though shorter than Terry by several inches, stared straight and hard into the blond man's eyes.

"I'm asking you to help us. Please, give us the chance that Lily never had."

Terry frowned at Jack, then glowered hatefully at me. He seemed to be thinking awfully hard. I wondered if maybe his head would explode. Finally, he responded.

"All right. What do you want me to do?"

Jack grinned, his smile striking me to the core, warming me from the inside out. Damn, when did I become such a sappy bitch?

"Deliver this to Geese's men," he said, handing my precious bo over to the American.

His smile must have affected Terry too, because he nodded, understanding instantly what he was being asked to do.

"Thank you," Jack said, bowing slightly before turning around and walking a few feet off, to give us some privacy.

I fidgeted uncomfortably, shoving my hands into my pockets. What was I supposed to say to him? I still hated him with a burning intensity fueled by years of Geese's brainwashing. Just because you take a splinter out, doesn't mean the pain disappears instantly. But like it or not, he was saving my life. I felt a surge of resentment…I didn't want to owe this man, the way I owed Geese. The thought of being indebted, no, enslaved to yet another person set my teeth on edge. Ironically, in my experience, freedom most often comes with the price of slavery.

As if sensing my thoughts, he spoke first.

"You took care of Lily, loved her and raised her when no one else would. She must have gotten her capacity for love and compassion from someone, and it certainly wasn't Geese. So…" He stuck his hand out to me. "Let's just call it even."

I looked up into his eyes and saw the distinct absence of that contempt that I was used to seeing on people's faces…people who always thought they were better than me. For a second, I simply didn't know what to do. It was so shocking only because it was so unexpected. I reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly.

"Even," I repeated.

He nodded.

"Ok!" he said, turning around and walking back the way he had come. Just like that, I was free.

I turned around to find Jack waiting for me.

He reached for me, but I hesitated.

"You sure you really want to do this?"

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Would I be standing here if I didn't?"

"Well mayb-"

He yanked me into a long kiss…one that fuckin' melted the rubber on my shoes. Pressed against him, I felt a hard lump in his jeans. Fishing around in his pants, I pulled my journal out of his pocket.

"What should we do with this?" I asked, leafing through it to find pages upon pages of my shameful chicken scratching.

He took it from me and held it contemplatively for a moment before pitching it over the side of the bridge.

"You won't need it where we're going."

I still wasn't convinced; people like me don't get happily-ever-afters. But, I guess if he was willing to try, then I was too. I suddenly remembered something I had written, what seemed like ages ago. I guess if the truth is what you make of it, then so is the future.