"Well, here we are," Officer Rick announces, as if this is the first time I've ever been here. It's my house, man – I know what it looks like.

Stepping out of the front seat, he comes around back and slowly opens the door for me before ordering me to stand up. The ride was ridiculously long (a good three and a half hours at least with all of the traffic), so my legs feel a bit numb as I stand up and stretch out my body. Ahh… the sweet smell of fresh air! You've got no idea how stuffy it was in the back seat.

"Lee, we've gotta… you know," he reminds me sheepishly, even though I'm now a free man. "It's just procedure, man. Should be the last time."

Huffing out an exhausted sigh, I hold my arms out to the side as he pats me down; what he'd be searching for I have no idea. It's not as if I'd be able to grab a knife or a gun anywhere, not after just having come out of Georgia State Penitentiary. But Rick's a good man, so I'm not quite as offended as I would've been with someone else.

That doesn't mean that I won't call him out for it, though.

"You really think I've got something on me, Rick? I've been sitting in the car with you the whole time."

"Hell… just be thankful it's me doing this and not Shane… I had to pull some strings just to get him not to come."

"Yeah, he didn't like me too much, did he?" I comment, shaking my head. I swear, Shane Walsh has to be one of the angriest cops that I've ever met. He wouldn't beat you up or anything, but he sure had one hell of a temper.

Doing the last of his checks, Rick gives a satisfied nod and walks with me into the house. "Nice place," he compliments, looking around inside.

"Heh, if you call a layer of dust nice, then yeah, it's beautiful," I reply sarcastically, wiping my finger over the dining room table. It's been quite a while since I've set foot in this place.

"Well," he starts, putting his hands on his hips, "I guess this is it, then. Remember – you don't go outside the city for a month, understand? That means no big vacations over to Mexico or any of that shit. If you need anything, give me a call on my cell or my home phone. Lori will let me know if you do… probably."

Both of us chuckle a little bit as I shake his hand, grateful for all he's done. I make a mental note to get him a gift basket or something later after my home sentence is up.

"Thanks, Rick. Really, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well I know you're a good man inside, Lee. Just try to stay out of trouble, would ya?"

…

Crouching down in the front yard, I wipe the sweat off my brow as the hot, summer sun beats down upon me. I don't usually do much gardening, but I figure that I might as well give it a shot now that I'm back. It's just me turning over a new leaf – literally and figuratively.

I missed this neighbourhood. Everyone was always so friendly and pleasant to be around, even though after news hit of my jail sentence they probably figured I was a threat to their safety. But so far there haven't been any attacks on my house, no death threats from angry mothers or any racial slurs.

Maybe they just all moved away.

Hearing the small dinging noise of a child's bicycle, I smirk at how little has changed around here. I live in a pretty safe neighbourhood, without any real violence around except for one unfortunate incident involving a state senator…

No it wasn't me! Don't get any funny ideas!

"You're back!" I hear a small voice call from behind me, and sitting on her bicycle is none other than Clementine. She looks incredibly cute with her purple bike helmet and matching bike, plus the fact that she still never takes her hat off even while riding that thing. Add to the fact that she's always got a smile on her face, and it really makes me wish that I had pushed more to have kids. Maybe it would've brought Donna and I closer together…

"Hey there, Clem," I sigh sadly, "Good to see you, kiddo. But umm… are your parents… alright with you talking to me? I mean, after everything that's happened?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't they be?" she asks inquisitively, cocking her head to the side. "They don't think you did the thing that you went to jail for. Plus, you're my friend! I wanted to see how you were doing."

It makes me incredibly happy to know that she and her family still care about me, but the truth of the matter is that although I didn't do everything they accused me of, I still wasn't totally guilt-free.

But I don't need to trouble a twelve year old with that kind of stuff.

"So I guess you're all done school now, huh?" I ask, wiping some of the dirt off of my gloves.

"Yep! I'm on summer vacation – it gets kind of boring though. Most of my friends went on holidays, so I'm just going to the park to find something to do."

"Ahh, I see. Well, when you talk to your parents again, tell them I said…"

Cutting myself off, I sigh heavily as my old friend's beaten-up pickup truck comes rolling into the driveway… I need to get inside as quickly as possible.

"Hi Kenny!" Clementine beams, getting a nod from the old fisherman as he steps out of the truck.

As soon as I wave goodbye to Clementine, I drop the gardening tools and start to head up to the front door, ignoring Kenny's attempts to stop me.

"Come on, man! Don't be like that!" he complains, rushing up behind me, "I just wanted to stop by and say hello!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I whisper harshly, turning around. "I rotted in jail for two fucking years for you, just so you could keep your damn family life going! And you're just dropping by to say hi? Go to hell, man."

"Look, I know what it seems like, but it ain't like that! Really! This whole thing was my fault, I know. And I don't think there's much I can do to make it up to you. But… I don't see the harm in trying to start."

"Kenny, do you even know what would've happened that day at the police station if I'd told them you were involved?" I ask angrily, folding my arms across my chest. "We would've both sat in jail for a year, and gotten enough fines that we'd end up having to resort back to stealing again! And then we would've gotten into even bigger shit! I put my ass on the line for you, Kenny, and you just waltz back into my life as if nothing had ever happened!"

"I know that, which is why I want to try and right all the wrongs," he explains, looking rather guilty about the whole thing. "Look… I owe you my life for what you did for me, saving my skin and all. But that shouldn't mean that we just stop being best friends! Let me try to make it up to you, at least!"

Biting my lip, I consider my options. I can either try to repair this damaged, crumbled and ridiculous friendship, or I can tell him to fuck off and leave him out of my life permanently.

…of course, knowing Kenny, he'd just keep calling my house until I'm forced to disconnect the phone line, so…

"Ugh… fine, come in," I tell him, beckoning him over my shoulder as I yank off the gardening gloves and toss them carelessly on the porch. They're probably the least valuable thing I possess, so I'm not worried about anybody taking them.

Besides, who ever heard of somebody stealing from the thief himself?

Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself here. Let me take you back to how this whole thing started, and why I was tossed into prison in the first place.

Kenny and I were the best of friends… we were a couple of blood brothers, even though we weren't technically related in any way. We met each other as teenagers when Kenny moved here to Georgia from his home in Fort Lauderdale.

Anyway, as youths, we got into all sorts of crazy shenanigans. We'd get completely shit faced every other weekend, pull pranks (on guys that were much bigger than us, and much more willing to react forcefully… don't ask), and just cause a whole lot of mischief around the high school.

But nothing gave us more of a thrill than theft and robberies – those were our bread and butter crimes.

At first, I was really pissed at Kenny for doing it. He thought that he was such a bad ass when he stole a bunch of chocolate bars from a convenience store without getting caught… and then it was the packs of gum… and then money from the cash register.

Somehow, he managed to convince me to try my luck. It was at a grocery store; Kenny waited for me outside and said that if I came back empty-handed, I was either a giant wussy or too stupid to do it. So when I came back out with about forty dollars' worth in cash, I told Kenny to go stick it somewhere. That's when our crime spree truly began.

By the time we turned twenty-two years of age, we both started to realize that we could potentially do this as a sort of job. We moved into an apartment together in downtown Atlanta, on one of the most expensive blocks in the city. I was at UGA, which is where I would one day teach history, while Kenny was practicing to be a commercial fisherman. And how did we pay for our luxurious lives in urban Atlanta? Well, it wasn't due to our part-time jobs as Subway and McDonald's – those were more for spending money than anything else. No, our income came almost entirely from stealing cash from unsuspecting shop owners, as well as selling off stolen merchandise to underground markets.

The only time either of us got caught (before the bust two years ago) was when Kenny decided to get piss drunk one night and try his luck with a really bitchy ex-Marine named Larry. I knew his daughter, Lilly, from a couple of parties that I went to back in the day, but I haven't had any contact with her over the last two years obviously. Anyways, Larry Caul was a big, strong brute of a man, and when he noticed Kenny stumble in and try to take a fucking box of Oreos… let's just say that a black eye and a night at the police station weren't the worst things that could've happened to him.

It wasn't until about three and a half years ago that we started going for the big kahunas: stolen vehicles. We were a couple of cocky, bold crooks that thought we were almost entirely invincible, and that we could do anything that we set our minds to. Hey, if the teachers and parents that told us that didn't want us stealing stuff, then maybe they should've changed their wording on things!

We started off relatively slowly at first – one vehicle could set you up for quite a lot of cash for a pretty long period of time, depending on the buyer. Kenny always had an eye for pickup trucks, as growing up his Dad always had one sitting around the driveway. As for myself, I was more of a car guy – nothing too fancy, and ones that were easier to break into.

I should've figured that they'd upgrade the locks on the newer versions of the cars…

The job went horribly. I was supposed to meet Kenny at the drop-off with a 2008 Honda Civic, but I never made it out of the parking lot. Somebody spotted me; knocked me over the head out cold with some kind of blunt object. The next thing I knew I was sitting in a dark police interrogation room, not unlike the ones you'd see on TV. The only light in there was some lamp they had projected directly at my face.

That's when fucking Shane Walsh came in to talk to me… God, I can't stand him. I'm pretty sure if it was still allowed, he would just toss all of the prisoners off a cliff so that the jail cells could be freed up…

This is how it went down: I was getting charged with at least four accounts of grand theft auto, since they somehow found out about some of the other stolen vehicles that I'd "recovered". He told me that I was facing a prison sentence no matter what, but that it'd be reduced to just one year if I told them about my accomplice.

Basically, I had to rat out my best friend. The one phone call I was allowed (confidential, as far as I was aware), I made to him. This is how it went…

"Ken… you there, man?"

"Yeah, dude! Did you go to get a fucking ice cream cone or something?! The client bailed on you! We just lost like 20K for that thing!"

"Kenny…"

"We're in deep shit here, man. I figure that we'll just try again next week, but you need to be prepared! We can't half-ass anything this – "

"KENNY!" I interrupted, looking side to side in case anyone was listening in. Luckily, it seemed that I was alone. "…I'm busted."

"…what?"

"You heard me."

"God damn it… Jesus, Lee! What are they booking you for?" he asked, sounding terrified of the repercussions.

Sighing heavily, I pause a moment before answering him. "Grand theft auto…" I told him, looking out the window at the free, happy people outside. Just knowing that I wouldn't be able to join them made me sick. "…they want me to bring my partner down, too."

For one split second, I thought that the line had gone dead and that he bolted out of the area. Thankfully, though, he didn't. Best friends don't bail on each other like that.

"Fucking hell…" he finally said, no doubt going over what this all would mean for him.

I started thinking about what would happen for Kenny, too.

How would Katjaa cope without having her husband around to help look after things? It certainly would've been a heck of a lot harder than usual, that was for sure. I couldn't take Duck's father away from him at that age… I wouldn't. Kenny had a hell of a lot more to lose than I did.

So, making up my mind right then and there, I hung up the phone and accepted the full indictment. I was going to rot in prison for two years.

And I did – this is the first time in two years that I've seen Kenny, and he has the audacity to try and pull this shit on me? Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt, but still… after all that time, a part of me wanted to just get away from the so called "New Man" that was Kenny. He claims that he's cleaned up his act somewhat, though his relationship with Katjaa is somewhat of a strained one right now. Better than my relationship – that ended a long time ago.

Listening to Kenny ramble on about his life as we sit at my dinner table, I try to look at the positive side. I too can change; start fresh, and make a new life for myself. Hell, maybe I can try and take up a new hobby – gardening was actually pretty relaxing for me, surprisingly enough.

But I'm not ready for the most out of the blue, completely crazy idea that my old friend throws at me next.

"So, what do you think about joining the police force?"

AN: Hey guys! So, yeah, school's starting up for me, so the updates won't be nearly as regular as they were for my other stories. Nevertheless, I'm going to try my best for this one, and hopefully I can think of some good ideas that you guys will like. And yeah, I know, ex-criminals don't make the best cops, but I thought it'd be good for some laughs so I'm sticking to my guns on this one. Anyway, please drop a review and I'll try to write some more when I get the time! Thanks!