Badou gets a note asking how much he cares about Haine. He thinks for a bit and can only come up with three reasons why he ever would:

1. Haine pays more rent than Badou.
2. As a result of 1, Badou has more money to buy cigarettes (not that he had much money to begin with, but).
3. As a result of 2, Badou is happier.

A little, he writes back.

Good, is the reply he gets. Come or he'll die.

Badou weighs his options. The trouble of finding someone willing to pay his rent, he concludes, is more than he can really afford.

He sighs, loads a gun, and goes.

-

Haine doesn't get a note, just a picture. It's of Badou, tied up and bored-looking, and Haine first thinks it's some kind of sick joke. He throws the picture away and doesn't think of it.

Two weeks later he gets a phone call. The oil-slick tones of Giovanni's voice slides across the distance.

"We have your partner," he says.

"Yes," Haine replies flatly, not even bothering to make it a question.

"Come," Giovanni says, and hangs up the phone before Haine can refuse him properly.

Haine writes it off as another disturbance of his otherwise orderly life. He ignores the next note he gets in the mail.

He gets another phone call, this time slightly more hysterical (not that Giovanni ever quite sounded sane, but, well), four days later.

"He came for you," Giovanni says almost accusingly, voice rising to a shriek.

"I'm not in charge of what he does," Haine replies listlessly.

"He asked for you," Giovanni says, voice quieter and calmer.

"No, he didn't," Haine answers.

He hangs up.

-

Haine has to kill at least thirty men before he gets to Badou.

"What a waste of my time," he informs Badou.

"I thought you were the genius," Badou groans. "Can't believe you came."

"What, are you waiting to die?" Stares at Badou, eyebrow raised. "Didn't think you were that stupid."

A harsh, quiet laugh – Haine thinks maybe this confinement wasn't so bad if it taught Badou some self-control. "I can take care of myself, Haine."

"Which explains why you're here."

Badou shrugs. "Tell yourself that, Haine."

Haine hears a click behind him.

He turns around to see Giovanni, smile angelic.

-

"So, Haine," Badou begins conversationally. "You believe in God?" Stares up the barrel of Giovanni's rather formidable gun. Haine can tell – if a bullet from a gun like that hit him, even he won't be recovering for a long, long time. Badou tilts his head back, breathes in the gun smoke like the cigarettes he inhales.

"Mm. Not really."

"Ah, really," Badou muses. "Maybe that's why you're so gloomy. Apparently finding God can be really uplifting, or something." A pause as he examines Giovanni, then Haine, with a critical eye. "Hey, give me a smoke?"

Haine tosses a whole pack at Badou. Giovanni's gun remains locked on Badou. "Knock yourself out."

Haine hears Angelica's voice even now, hears her whispers in Giovanni's ear. Shoot him and I'll love you. Do it, Giovanni. Shoot him. Kill him. Haine sees the hands she has wrapped around Giovanni's throat.

"Thanks." Badou brings a cigarette to his lips, inhales as if death by nicotine is an art. "So." He turns to Giovanni, smile growing long and thin like cruelty. "You gonna shoot me or what?"