Snapshots of a Love Affair

by Olivia Sutton

part 8

Twelve years later, Jeff and Marty are 38

Jeff Randall got up from his desk at Randall and Hopkirk Security Services, and walked over to his partner, Marty Hopkirk. Standing behind him, Jeff lightly put his hands on Marty's shoulders, then bent and kissed his neck.

"Hey, what was that for?" Asked Marty, "Not that I mind," he added, smiling and relaxing under his partner's hands.

Jeff stopped squeezing Marty's shoulders and stepped back a bit, but kept his hands touching Marty, Do you realise that it's been twenty-two years, Marty? We've been together for twenty-two years? That's longer than a lot of marriages.

Marty nodded, And I still love you, Jeff.

I know. I love you as well, Marty. But it just hit me today, strongly, that it's been a long, long time.

Jeff? Asked Marty, waves of insecurity flooding to the surface, waves that he knew Jeff would feel, Jeff, we're partners, you don't want to... to leave, do you?

NO! No, Marty, I'd never leave you. Actually, it was the opposite that occurred to me. Marty, if I ever lost you, I don't know what I would do. You are everything to me, Marty, everything! My partner, my lover, my business partner, my best mate - Jeff's thoughts broke off, and waves of Jeff's fear and sadness hit Marty.

"Come here, Jeff," Marty ordered.

Jeff obeyed silently, moving to Marty's reach.

Marty took Jeff in his arms, and cuddled him close. Jeff leaned his head on Marty's shoulder, Jeff, listen. Please, listen, Jeff. I love you, and I'd never willingly leave you. Never, Jeff. But if something did happen...

NO! protested Jeff.

Marty stroked Jeff's hair with his hand, LISTEN to me Jeff, if something did happen to me, I'd want you to be happy. I'd...Jeff, if something happened, if I died or something, you would need to go on. You'd have to. And I'd want you to be happy, even if that meant taking another lover, Jeff. I MEAN IT - if I died, don't... don't Marty sent an image to Jeff, of Jeff unconscious on the bed after his overdose, and felt his understanding, don't follow me. Survive!

Jeff nodded, I don't know why I'm so maudlin, today, Marty. It was just a feeling, I had, and... and I didn't know how to handle it. The idea of something happening to you, scares me more than the thought of my own death.

Jeff?

Sorry, Marty.

Jeff, are you all right? Really, all right? What are you on about, Jeff?

I don't know! I'm sorry, Marty. Jeff flooded Marty with feelings of love, friendship and trust, then continued, I can't explain it. But I promise you, Marty, that I will be all right.

Marty sent Jeff an image of a large, blinking, cartoon question mark.

Jeff smiled, then turned his head and kissed Marty's lips lightly, then deepened the kiss, I'm okay, now. I love you.

Marty returned Jeff's kiss, That's all right, Jeff. Anytime. Though a client should be here soon, and I think, seeing us like this might not give him a professional impression. Marty paused, then added, Or he might think we're in a whole other profession, entirely.

Marty!

Jeff, I'm sorry. Are you all right?

Jeff stood and broke their contact, both physical and mental, returning to his own desk, "I'm all right, Marty."

"I hope so, Jeff," Marty answered, then he settled in at his desk, waiting for their client, Gordon Stylus, to arrive.

Stylus hired Jeff and Marty to watch and protect his wife, and the two were soon at a party at the Stylus household. Marty found Annette and stayed close to her, whilst Jeff followed Gordon and watched him. Both had experience as bodyguards, so the case wasn't that unusual. Marty followed Annette into the main room of the party, watching her as she moved around the room, a strong drink in her hand. Marty began to worry as he watched Annette getting more and more drunk, then starting arguments with anyone she came across. Then Gordon entered the room.

"Oh, there you are! My wonderful husband!" Shouted Annette, sarcastically.

Gordon turned towards Annette, "You're drunk!"

"And why not? Forget it Gordon, I've had enough. I'm leaving, and I'm taking everything, Gordon. The house, the cars, your money, and MY art! You were penniless when we met, and you'll be penniless again. But you're used to that, aren't you?" screamed Annette.

"This isn't the time or place, Annette!" yelled back Gordon, then he pulled a gun from his trousers, "Now shut up or I will make you shut up!" The crowd in the room started to scream and run off. Marty looked from Gordon to Annette, then put himself between Annette and Gordon's gun.

"Put it away, Gordon! Now!" he yelled.

Jeff entered the room and saw the tableau. He ran to Marty, pushing him aside, and putting himself between Marty and Gordon's weapon. There was a sharp sound of a gun firing.

Marty turned back towards Jeff, from his crouched position on the floor where he'd been pushed. His heart leapt in his mouth as he saw Jeff lying on the floor, his chest covered in blood.

"NO!" Screamed Marty, "Oh, god, no!" He moved to his lover, taking Jeff in his arms. "Somebody call an ambulance! NOW!" Marty looked at one of the party guests, "Now!"

Jeff lay against Marty's legs, and Marty held him, his hands covering the wound in his chest, "You'll be all right, you have to be all right."

Marty, I'm sorry. I couldn't let him kill you, though.

Jeff? Listen, you are NOT going to leave me, Jeff. Please.

I don't think I have a choice about that, Marty. I'm dying, I can feel it.

You're not. You're just scared because you've been shot. It's all right, Jeff.

No! Marty... Marty, I don't want to upset you, but I'm... I am dying, Marty. Now listen to me. What you said, what you told me, this morning, when I was upset. I feel the same way.

What?

Don't follow me, Marty! I MEAN IT. I love you and I won't have you killing yourself because of me! You're going to have to be strong, and go on. And take another lover, Marty, it will help.

No, Jeff. You're not dying and...

FACE IT, Marty! I am. God, it doesn't even hurt anymore, I'm dying. Goodbye, Marty, I love you! I love you, I...

I love you, Jeff! Thought Marty, then shook as he felt a snap. He'd been pushed out of Jeff's mind. Marty looked around, he was still in the Stylus household, surrounded by party guests. Jeff lay in his arms, and Marty realised he could no longer feel a pulse where his hands covered the wound. More tears flooded down his face, then he bent and gently kissed Jeff's forehead, and then his lips, not caring one bit what anyone who saw them thought. The medics finally arrived, pushing Marty out of the way, but Marty knew that everything they did would be useless. He knew Jeff was gone.

Marty turned, his expression grim, and his eyes filled with desolation, then he stalked over to Gordon, "What the hell did you do it for? Why the hell even hire us if you wanted to kill your damn wife!" Marty pushed Stylus.

"I...I didn't... I didn't mean to..." Stylus shuddered under Marty's wrath, dropping the gun.

"Damn it! He was everything to me. Everything! And you destroyed him!"

"I was aiming for my wife! And you!"

Marty shuddered, "And why is that?"

"Crisby! Kenneth Crisby! You shouldn't have taken his wife's case! Shouldn't have taken the pictures! So we made an arrangement. He'd kill Annette - and I'd kill you. Well, I was supposed to kill both of you! Annette jumped the gun on the whole thing!"

Marty grabbed Gordon's shoulders and shook him, then hit him, knocking him down. He bent, picking up the gun, then turned around, returning to Jeff's body. The EMTs were placing him on a trolley, ready to take him into the ambulance. Hoping against hope, Marty looked up at the paramedic and said, "How is he?"

"We managed to re-start his heart, but his condition is critical."

Marty shook and hope filled his thoughts, "You... you managed to... he's alive?"

The paramedic lightly touched Marty's arm, "He's alive. Barely. But he needs surgery and blood, immediately."

Marty nodded, "I'm going with him to hospital!"

"Of course, sir."

Marty stood in a waiting area at the hospital. He shirt was covered with Jeff's blood, as was his jacket in his hands, which were still stained, even though he had wiped them on the jacket. Marty collapsed into a chair and closed his eyes. Please be all right, Jeff, please, he thought, as he sat and waited.

Sometime later, a doctor approached. Marty stood.

"Are you here about Jeff Randall?" asked the doctor.

Marty approached him, nodding, "Yes. I'm Marty Hopkirk. Jeff's my partner." Marty looked at the doctor, "My lover, doctor."

The doctor put a hand on Marty's arm, "Come with me, we should speak in private."

Marty looked at the doctor and ice water filled his veins, shakily he said, "No, it's all right. Tell me. Please, just tell me how he is."

The doctor looked at Marty with sympathy. Marty saw the look in the doctor's eyes, and felt his world starting to crash around him, "No!"

The doctor nodded, then said, "I'm sorry, but Jeff Randall died. We did everything we could, but..."

The blood rushed to Marty ears and he heard no more, then his legs gave out and he fell towards the doctor before him. The doctor grabbed Marty, lowering him into a chair, and knelt; next to him. "I am sorry, sir. Were you together long?"

Marty looked at the doctor with tears in his eyes, "What? Yeah, twenty-two years. Since we were sixteen," Marty showed the doctor his ring, "We've been committed partners for twelve years. And we'd known each other practically our whole lives."

The doctor nodded, "The hospital has bereavement counsellors sir, you should see one. It's important for your health."

"What does my health matter? Not without Jeff, does it matter." Marty closed his eyes, "Leave me alone, please."

The doctor nodded, and left. Marty sat in the hospital waiting room, his world shattered to pieces around him, sobbing.

The next few weeks were a blur to Marty. He made funeral arrangements, spoke to Jeff's relatives, contacted friends and business associates. Even during the funeral, he only felt numb and shocked, as he went through the motions, doing what was expected. Inside he wondered how he'd ever get though it, but the details of dealing with everything were enough to keep at least the surface of his mind occupied. Finally, it was over, the funeral, everything. The relatives left, the friends melted away, and Marty returned to the office. He straightened and took care of files, bills, and papers, putting confidential files in the safe, and organising and taking care of everything else in the office. He even washed the coffee cups and glasses that piled up on the desks, or near the coffeemaker, and put them away. Then he left the office, locking the office door, for what he thought was the last time.

That night, at sunset, Marty took the gun that he'd taken away from Gordon Stylus, and went to Jeff's grave. He knelt next to the grave, his hand on the grave stone. "Jeff, I'm sorry. I know you wanted me to go on, I know you want me to live, but I can't, Jeff. I can't do it anymore. Not alone." Marty took Stylus's gun, the gun that had taken his lover's life, and checked it calmly, then he placed the barrel in his mouth.

"No! Marty, don't! Please, stop, Marty!"

Marty opened his eyes, taking the gun from his mouth, "Jeff?"

Jeff stood before him, in sparkling white clothes, looking perfectly all right. "Marty, don't do it. Please don't! You don't understand what..."

Marty stared at Jeff blinking, thinking, I have lost it!, then he said, "You're alive? But how, Jeff?"

Jeff looked at Marty, "Of course not. I'm dead. I died in your arms, Marty. I'm a ghost, and I'm here because... because I can't let you do this," Jeff smiled, grimly, "Saving your life is starting to become a habit. But god, I do love you."

Marty looked at him, "I'll be with you, shortly, Jeff," then he put the gun in his mouth again, and closed his eyes.

"NO! No! Don't. If you pull that trigger, Marty, you'll never be with me again. We will never see each other again, and there is nothing I can do about it. Please, put the gun away, Marty."

Marty opened his eyes again, the gun in his mouth, Do you mean that?

YES! It's out of my control, and I shouldn't have told you that, but I'm here, as a ghost, and I will be with you forever if you drop that damn gun, and live, Marty. But if you pull the trigger, then that is that, we will never see each other again. Never, Marty. I love you, for god's sake, don't!

Marty pulled the gun from his mouth, and set it on the ground. "It is you, then, Jeff, isn't it? Your thoughts feel the same. It is you."

Jeff nodded. "Yes, Marty, it is."

Oh, Jeff - I've been going through hell, you know. The only thing that kept me together was the thought of joining you.

I know.

I love you.

I know that, too, Marty. And I love you. I did, I will, forever.

So what now?

"First, you get rid of that thing. Destroy it, somehow. Then... then I think we go back to doing what we were doing before. You go back to working as a detective, and I'll still be your partner."

Marty looked at Jeff, quizzically, "You're not only here for this one time, then? I mean, I won't do it now, Jeff, but..."

"I will stay here, as a ghost, with you, until you die, Marty. And that won't be for a long while, I think."

"Yah, it won't be. If you are going to be with me, even like this, it will be something. We're together, in some way."

Jeff nodded, and thought, Why is it always a gun, Marty? I've often wondered that, why not tablets? Like I did, that time I thought you had left me.

Because if I was going to kill myself, Jeff, I damn well wasn't going to survive it.

God, Marty. You think about things like that? You have...thought... about things like that?

Jeff, when the monster was hurting me, I thought about death every night. When he raped me, I made the decision to do it. To commit suicide, Jeff.

I stopped you.

Yes.

I just stopped you, again, even though I'm dead.

Yes, Jeff.

God, Marty. I knew there was darkness in your soul. But god, Marty.

Jeff, listen, I'll be all right. I will. You stopped me again, Jeff. And I believe what you said, I do. I will go on, if you are at my side. Even as a... what are you?

A ghost, Marty. I'm a ghost. But I still love you.

I love you, too.

Marty stood, and walked out of the graveyard, alive, with his partner, Jeff at his side, though Jeff was no longer alive.

THE END