Three years since I last lay eyes on him. I let him walk away. Of course I regretted it every day since. There's not a day goes by when I don't think of him and what might have been. Even now I'm thinking about him and I'm supposed to be working. I hate paper work anyways; I prefer field work any day of the week. That's something we had in common, we both loved to be out there doing what we do best. It just happened to be that what I do best is stopping him do what he does best. I think I'm confusing you now. I'm a member of the Special Forces team. He's… a criminal to put it lightly. The son of the greatest drug lord of all time, of course he had to be a great criminal. I, on the other hand, am the son of the greatest Special Forces member ever. Quite the match we were.

The first time we met we had each other in a deadlock. He had his gun pointing at my head; I had my knife to his throat since I'd emptied my magazine on his cronies. You're probably wondering how I got the knife to his neck while he had a gun? I caught him off guard. It was a simple piece of luck, well until he'd put the gun to my head. Truthfully I could have slit his throat in the time it took him to get the gun to my head, but I didn't, I couldn't, and neither could he pull the trigger. We called each other's bluff and ended up with a truce, weapons piled on the floor between us in a locked room. I remember the first thing he did after we'd dropped the weapons was to look me up and down with an appreciative eye. Then he opened his mouth and told me 'You're damn gorgeous. How about you swap sides and we can have a bit of fun together?' We argued after that, pissing each other off greatly. Then he grabbed me and kissed me roughly. And there it was; my taste of the dark side. I'll admit I melted into his touch. I could always stand my ground against him in anything nonsexual, but when it came to his caressing touch, I melted. It actually really pissed me off, but I don't care now, if only I could be in his arms again.

I broke that first kiss between us when I was startled by the door being rammed. We stared at each other for several moments. That was when I realised that he had set me up. Just as well my partner knew me well. I swear she was a psychic, and she would do anything for me. We were comfortable with each other even with the open knowledge that she was really into me. Unlucky for her that I don't swing that way. But that day she proved to be the best partner I could ever have, not to mention the only one who could deal with me. It was a really cool matrix style moment then. I ran for the window, dived through it after throwing the glass paperweight through it and landed on the helicopter where she was waiting with a friend of mine who just happened to be able to fly a 'copter.

Actually it didn't happen like that, the window had been open and I climbed out and onto the helicopter since I was closest to the window. Still, I escaped a building by helicopter; that I'm proud of.

That was my first encounter with him. Little did I realise that there was many more to come, each more heated than the one before it. It was on one such occasion that we had our first truly sexual encounter. I'd cornered him in some deserted warehouse where he'd been doing a deal. We'd beat the crap out of each other for sure, so much so that we were ready to collapse. So when he tackled me we both fell to the floor, him on top of me. He'd totally winded me so when I gained my sense of mind I realised the uncompromising situation I was in. The passion started from there. It was rough, 'I hate you, you hate me, we really want to fuck each other' sex. He'd actually described it as that later on when we became more intimate. I have to admit that it did fucking hurt, he was really big and technically it was my first time. But it was intense and something I'd never experienced before. We submitted to our feelings after that. We'd meet up at a swanky hotel - it wasn't like we couldn't afford it - and fuck each other senseless to be truthful.

I found that he was truly dominant, but I would never be truly submissive. He did bring out a submissive streak in me sometimes though, other times he'd just tie me down and have his way with me. It all depended on how I acted and I found it pleasing either way. Well except for that one time he kidnapped me and held me for ransom. That just pissed me off. We knew it would never last anyways. In time I became less submissive, he'd beat me for it, I'd get him back later on when I caught him for something or other. It was a vicious circle. It became too much, and the chief started on my back about how I always seemed to corner him but never capture him. My partner knew about us by then. She'd frowned on it obviously, but she really had it bad for me and agreed to cover for me. But when the chief started on my back I knew the game couldn't go on much longer.

He took me away for the weekend that same week. He took me to his father's lakeside villa where he went all out and showed me his other side, the sweet, sensitive side, the vulnerable, never seen before and never to be seen again side. He laid himself bare for me and that's when I realised I loved him. Somewhere in the midst of out trysts I had truly fallen for him.

During our time together at the villa he also told me that his father had ordered him out of the country for his safety. He told me he didn't want to go, there were so many reasons for this, but I told him he had to or else I would have to turn him in and then he would have nothing to live for. So he left the next week, walked right out of my life.

I laugh about the huge stir I caused that day every time I think about it. We went to the airport on the report that he was leaving the country. There the rest of the team was 'magically' delayed so that I could run ahead and say goodbye. That I did with the most intense kiss I have ever had. Then he turned and left without a word, his retreating back the last glimpse I had of him. The team found me in a messed up state once they managed to get through. They thought it was because he'd got away, and in a sense it was, but not for the same reasons they thought. That was the last time I ever saw him.

So here I am now sitting reminiscing about him like a love-sick teenage girl, wondering where he is, what he's doing and if he's thinking about me. I'm quite happy in my little quiet reverie until the phone rings, startling me. My partner answers it, giving me time to fully remove my mind from its own confines. She then turns to me, telling me that there's a bomb scare downtown, at a local warehouse. It's an empty warehouse; I know this because it's the very same one that we first fucked in. We rush there in our usual recklessness. I can feel my heart racing at the thought of returning there. We're not briefed until we arrive there, even then there's not much of a briefing except that there's enough explosives in the building to send it sky high, a suicide bomber and apparently a hostage. That's when Mr high and mighty drug lord appears inquiring as to his son's safety. My heart stops as I realised HE is involved in this somehow. Without waiting for command, disobeying every order I receive, I head into the building, gun in hand. No one dares follow me into the building, there are serious risks involved in that. Once inside the empty building I give myself a few moments to allow my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The place is deserted, so I guess that they're in the offices on the second floor. I slowly make my way there but as I peak into the room I can't believe my eyes. HE's tied and blindfolded on the floor and standing above him is none other that my helicopter flying friend, kicking him violently. I can't wait any longer. I burst through the door, gun pointed at my friends, or should I say ex-friend's, head.

"What the fuck is going on?" I shout loudly into the small room.

"Ahh, my dearest friend, I was hoping you'd join us. I'm just punishing the bane of your existence." He replies as if there is absolutely nothing wrong with what he's doing.

"You don't understand…" I start.

"Oh I understand alright." He replied venomously. "This little fucker here's been fucking you over." He turns and kicks him again.

"Stop it!" I shout at him desperately. But he doesn't stop, just turns his face to me, a maniacal look in his eyes as he holds up the detonator, ready to press it. I act on instinct and shoot him in the arm, knocking it out of his hand. This delays him but he's somehow picking the detonator up with his other hand. I don't hesitate as I pull the trigger, embedding a bullet into his skull. I'm a skilled and trained Special Forces member of course I know how to handle these situations carefully, not. I'm not too bothered that I just shot my friend; he obviously wasn't who I thought he was.

I turn to HIM and run to him to untie him. Before I reach him however I feel a crunch under my foot and before I realise what's happening there's explosions going on below me and I'm falling, he is too, and I still can't reach him. I think I'm out cold for a few moments before I regain control of my body. I'm in pain, I know that, there's burning pain coming from somewhere but I don't care, for some reason my mind is set on finding him. And find him I do. The sight is enough to make me want to empty my stomach. He's impaled on some metal pole, passing straight from his lower back to his stomach, crimson liquid seeping and pooling around him. I call out his name and his head turns searching for me. I crawl over to him ignoring the excruciating pain in my leg and pull off the blindfold, looking deep into his enchanting blue eyes. They were once so full of life, yet now they're dulling already. I see a glimmer of hope, light in those eyes as he realises that I'm there. His nickname for me, Keiko, is the first word out of his mouth. He never used my real name, always called me Keiko. I feel the sting indicating tears but don't realise as they begin to stream down my face. This can't be happening.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He exclaims in anguish, his suffering evident in his tone. "I was scared I was going to die and never see your beautiful face again, scared that I wouldn't get to…" He trailed off suddenly uncertain.

"I've missed you so much." I tell him in earnest as I caress his face with my hand, stroke his soft raven coloured hair. There's blood on my hand. I don't know where from and I don't particularly care at this moment in time.

"Keiko…" He starts; his voice is fading now, dwindling like his life. He starts to cough and it terrifies me that it's blood that he coughs up. "Keiko, I… I need to tell you this now. If I don't I'll not get to tell you… I… I love you, my sweet Keiko." I physically feel my heart skip a beat at the words I longed to hear and reply. He continues before I can reply though. "I love you with all of my heart…" He pauses for breath. "…and I wish I'd told you sooner… told you in a different setting… But I can't because I won't have a different setting after this… I love you." My vision is blurred now, but it doesn't matter, I know his face by memory, and this way I won't be able to see what's really happened to him, see his pain.

"I love you too." I reply to him. "I love you so much it hurts, it hurt when you left and it hurts now. There's not a day gone by where I haven't thought of you, please, don't leave me again." I know that my voice portrays my feelings all too well. "Well if you stay here with me I won't do…" He replies, his breathing becoming more laboured. "There's a delay system on the bombs, only half of them set off before, the other half will be going off soon. But…" He trails off again, coughing; it's killing me to see him like this. But if his words are true then at least I won't have to live long. "…Please I want you to get out of here, to save yourself." He implores of me, resuming where he left off.

"No. I refuse to leave you. If you're going to die, then I'm going with you, I won't let you out of my sight, not now I have you with me again." I tell him, great, heaving sobs now taking over my body. I can see his eyes begging me to leave, even with their dulling.

"Well if you're not going to leave me… kiss me." He instructs me in his usual dominant manner, but it lacks the authority with his diminishing life. I still follow his orders, leaning down to caress his lips with mine. We share a kiss so passionate that I swear, had it been any other circumstance, would have been orgasmic. The tears are still pouring from my now closed eyes and raining down onto his face, washing away the smeared blood left there by my hand. I refuse to pull away to breathe, even as I hear the beeping indicating the imminence of our impending death. Instead I deepen the kiss before almost pulling away so that our lips barely touch. I open my eyes and stare down into his blue orbs as he too opens his eyes. We share one last look that says everything as the beeping rapidly increases before the sounds of explosions fill my ears. They seem so far away but I feel the pain rip through me, emotional as well as physical. And then there's no more feeling, no more being, just blissful nothingness, the way it should be in the end.