For Keeps - Angel
by elfin
Leaning on the dark, rusting railings, Robbie looked out across the mud
flats. It was a dull morning, just before dawn. As dull as
it had been the morning local police had found Michael Jardine’s body
washed up here.
If he closed his eyes he could still hear Stuart’s words in his head, outside Innis’ apartment.
“There was a call… from Langbank.”
The awful grief in his tone and the terrible fear in Jackie’s response.
“Stuart, what is it?”
His mobile was chirping away merrily to itself in his jacket pocket.
He ignored it, needing to be alone with Michael for a while.
Being here was so much more painful than going to his grave. But
on the anniversary of his lover’s death last year he’d come back for
only the second time, walked across the flats and laid a dozen
long-stemmed red roses where Michael’s body had been discovered.
He’d stood here then, in the place they knew Kennedy had surprised
Michael, bashing in the base of his skull before tipping him over into
the Clyde. He’d tried to imagine what had been going through
Michael’s mind that day, tried to read the thoughts of his dead lover.
Looking out over the flats, tears blurring his vision, he let the awful
memories slowly get replaced by better ones, warmer ones. The day
before his life had been torn apart.
His beautiful lover, blond hair
dishevelled, white shirt over light blue jeans, standing in the hall,
shouting at him and at Stuart, as desperate to be involved as Robbie
and Jackie were to keep him away.
“I’m coming with you!”
“Mike! You can’t go!
Burke wants your badge, you’re suspended!” Seeing the expression
on his lover’s face, Robbie turned to Stuart. “Get out of here!”
“Sir….”
“Go!”
Stuart inadvertently slammed
Michael’s front door as he left the house. Robbie glanced after
him for a moment, then turned back to the other man. Michael
wasn’t happy.
“We should be out there!”
“Mike, for God’s sake! Liam
Kennedy’s out there and he’s gunning for you! Just leave this to
the others, will you?” He took a single, deep breath.
“Please.”
His hand was flat on Michael’s chest,
holding him back from doing anything they’d both regret. Burke
didn’t want to see Jardine right now. He was furious as
hell. He needed time to calm down then he needed to listen to
reason.
“Rob, this is ludicrous! I didn’t hide that file, I discarded it!”
“I know that, Mike.”
“Kennedy’s in jail!”
“No, he’s not! The prison got it wrong. He’s out. He’s after revenge, Innis and you.”
Thinking he’d made his point, Robbie
relaxed his hand. Immediately, Michael moved forward. And
in response, Robbie pushed back hard.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Mike!”
Michael fell back against the wall, head cracking on the doorframe of the front room.
Robbie went with him, fingers still
spread over the white cotton of his shirt. He closed the gap,
ready to start shouting, whatever it took to keep Michael off the
streets until the lunatic who was after him was caught.
The next thing he knew, he was being kissed.
Surprise overrode shock. Sharp arousal overrode surprise. And then he was kissing back.
When they broke apart, Michael had
one hand wrapped in Robbie’s tie, the other gripping his right
shoulder. Robbie’s hand was still on Michael’s chest. The
other was pressed against the doorframe just above the blond head.
“I love you. I am not letting you go.”
“Rob….”
“Have you any idea how Jackie and I
would feel if anything – anything! – happened to you?” Finally
Michael stopped answering back. Relieved, Robbie closed the gap
between them again and covered his lover’s mouth with his own, tongue
sweeping Michael’s lips.
Tears streamed from Robbie’s eyes and not for the first time he wished Kennedy had taken him instead of Michael.
~
Jackie knocked on the black wood door, aware of the time. Gone
midnight, all but the roughest pubs in Glasgow closed, the clubs too
loud and the bars too quiet.
She and Robbie hadn’t been great company for one another in recent weeks but she couldn’t face another night alone.
After what felt like forever Robbie opened the door. Jackie
looked at him, sighing with sorrow when she saw his tired eyes reddened
and filled with tears.
A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels hung from his fingers.
Without a word he let the door swing open and padded back into the
lounge, leaving her to let herself in and close the door behind her.
They barely spoke a word.
She followed him into the lounge and put her arms around him, tilting
her face up to his, inviting the kiss. Dropping the bottle to the
glass table, he bent to meet her mouth, closing his eyes and letting
his brain take a walk as he let her lead him into the bedroom.
The phone woke them just before dawn. In the huge bed that had
been big enough for the three of them to sleep comfortably, they were
lying either side of it, hands joined in the centre.
Jackie was awake in a second and she watched as Robbie - not even
opening his eyes – reached out one arm and took two attempts to find
the offending phone. She remembered him, one morning, clearing
the low cabinet of everything except the phone and a cheaply framed
photo of the three of them. Both things were still there.
“Ross.”
“Burke. We’re off up north, and if you’ve any idea where Jackie is, we need her too.”
~
Fenmore
Three days of living in the pub, working in the village and breathing
the fresh, farm air had Burke, Jackie and Robbie all on edge, although
it was for different reasons. The first chance Jackie had at
escape back to Glasgow – albeit just for an afternoon – she jumped at.
On the third night, after her return from the refreshing madness of
Glasgow, Jackie found herself once again in the bar ordering a large
Gin and Tonic and watching her boss stare down a pint of heavy ale.
She caught his eye, offered to buy him another and wasn’t surprised by the shake of his head.
At Burke’s silent invitation, she took the stool next to him. “Where are Robbie and Stuart?”
Burke shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Robbie’s
probably chatting up….” He stopped, glanced at her then took a
long drink. “Don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on, if you want the
truth.”
She sighed softly to herself, agreeing, and polished off half the G&T.
“It’s this place,” Matt continued, “it’s so… claustrophobic. Everything seems just slightly out of perspective.”
Deciding it would be easier to listen to his problems than think about
her own, she said, “You’re getting too close to this one.” His
only response was a grunt. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Burke shook his head slowly, an emphatic ‘no’.
Jackie frowned, shrugged, caught the barman’s eye and ordered a second G&T – a double.
She’d almost finished it and was contemplating going to bed when Burke turned on his stool.
“Jackie, can I ask a personal question?”
She didn’t even think. “Sure.”
“What was going on between you, and Robbie… and Mike Jardine?”
Their years together had conditioned an automatic answer to the
question but hearing Michael’s name spoken aloud by someone other than
herself or Robbie brought forth the inevitable tears.
Suddenly having it all brought to the forefront of her mind when she’d so carefully stored it all away was shockingly painful.
But the almost programmed response still remained and without
hesitation she looked at him through blurred eyes and with a slightly
puzzled expression. “We were friends. What makes you ask?”
Burke regarded her sadly, wondering if to drop this particular line of
questioning. But he’d come this far and the pain wasn’t about to
get any easier if it was still this raw after all this time.
“I know he left his house and car to you and Robbie. I know the
three of you took a holiday together in the south of France.”
He watched more tears slide from her eyes and regretted asking, wishing
he’d just let it all lie, dead and buried. Literally.
But he wanted to know. So often over the last two years he’d
found himself watching the two of them and wondering what it must have
been like between them, what could possibly have brought and held them
together. In more intoxicated moments he’d wondered about other
things, more physical things.
Jardine had been one lucky bastard in life, he’d concluded.
Although men didn’t do anything for him when it came to the bedroom,
the fierce loyalty Robbie had exhibited at the start and the loyalty he
still showed whenever Jardine’s name came up was very attractive.
He recalled Jackie’s state for weeks after the funeral. She’d
shattered, grieving, and at the time he hadn’t been able to understand
why. Jardine had been her friend, sure, they’d worked together
for a long time. He’d been her boss too and she’d obviously
respected and loved him.
But she’d put him in mind of a grieving widow, in fact he’d accused her
of it one afternoon. He’d simply been unable to cope with the
strength of her grief.
He regretted that too, now he suspected that her emotions had been
closer to those of a bereaved wife. What he hadn’t realised until
a little later was that there’d been a husband, a man also grieving for
his dead lover.
Robbie had been far less obvious, erupting into violence when pushed
but never breaking down – at least not in public. Burke had
assumed that was simply how the man was and had, on occasions, even
used it to his own advantage.
“Sorry. Jackie. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
But she shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “No. It’s okay. Just give me a minute.”
~
Robbie leaned on the wooden fence surrounding the pub car park.
The night had swallowed the farms in the fields beyond and there was no
moon to pick them out of the darkness. He could see nothing but
the thoughts in his own head and they were disturbing enough.
He and Jackie hadn’t talked about the night they’d spent
together. Although not the first by far, it had been the first
time they’d made love since Michael’s death and he didn’t know how to
feel about it.
He loved Jackie, he always had. And before their relationship had
deepened he’d lusted after her for a time. But what had been
between he and Michael had blown away everything else. It had
slowly overwhelmed him until there had started to come times when he
felt as if he was drowning in his feelings for the other man.
Brushing his finger over Michael’s signet ring that he wore now on the
ring finger of his left hand, he wondered as he had so often before
about leaving, starting again somewhere away from Glasgow, away from
Scotland, away from every memory he gave a damn about.
How long could he bury himself in his work? How long could he and
Jackie go on looking at one another and seeing what was so obviously
missing now?
“I miss him too.”
Robbie’s head snapped up and he glanced at Stuart standing next to him at the fence.
“Who?” The pointless question came out harsher than Robbie wanted
it to but he didn’t want to talk about this. He never did.
“Michael. He’s been on your mind ever since we got here.”
Robbie smiled a private smile. “He’s always on my mind,” he confessed quietly.
A couple of seconds ticked passed. Robbie felt a soothing hand
rubbing his back, squeezing his shoulder. He appreciated Stuart’s
understanding. More than anyone else, Stuart knew what he’d lost
when Michael had been murdered.
Since the night he and Jackie had told Stuart about the three of them,
his friendship with him had flourished, and with it their
partnership. They made a good team now, one almost ridiculed by
Burke’s insistence that they share a room at the pub.
The hand that had been at his shoulder followed a firm path down his
arm, moving under his elbow and along until warm fingers touched his
wrist. In silent consent, Robbie opened his hand and Stuart
linked their fingers.
Robbie grazed his thumb across the back of Stuart’s hand and in a flash
of recall he imagined Michael standing beside him. It was a
memory so vivid that for a moment he could smell his lover’s clean
scent. He could feel the strength of him at his shoulder, see the
blond silk of his hair out of the corner of one eye.
He started, shocked, meaning to pull away, meaning to apologise.
But Stuart held on and looking directly at him said, “It’s all
right. You’d do anything to be with him again and for now, no one
is going to touch you like he did.”
Robbie got the feeling Stuart wasn’t speaking physical contact.
He stared, listening to his own psyche speaking in Stuart’s gentle
Scottish tones.
“All men like the company of other men, it’s just to what degree.
Unfortunately in today’s society, people need labels. So I’m gay
– queer – whatever. You’re bi-sexual bordering on straight until
the right man comes along. And along he came. For a time
you’d have happily told the world you were gay because you were in
love. You had Michael.”
A single tear escaped Robbie’s eye but he left it, catching it with his tongue as it touched his lips.
“That bastard Kennedy took him away from you and you couldn’t rant and
rave at the injustice and the world because no one knew you had the
right. Jackie did. And that wasn’t fair. You could
only grieve in private, behind closed doors as if it was wrong to feel
the way you did, as if everything the two of you shared was wrong.”
He squeezed Robbie’s fingers. “It wasn’t wrong. And it’s
all right to want to see him so desperately it’s all you can think
about when someone else touches you.”
As far as invitations went, it was one of the more oblique ones Robbie
had heard. But it was there nonetheless. And a part of him
just wanted to accept it without thinking too hard about what it meant.
~
“Michael and Robbie got together first. But there’d been something between Michael and I for years.”
Burke shook his head, amazed and impressed. “They asked you to join them?”
“In so many words. Robbie ducked out then, I don’t think he ever
wrapped his head around Michael and I not wanting to marry. But
Michael wouldn’t let him go. We just started to spend all our
free time together, fitting one another in around the hours we
worked. Sometimes it was just Michael and I, sometimes just he
and Robbie. Mostly it was the three of us. We fell in love,
all of us, with each other.”
“And no one ever knew?”
“No one. We never needed anyone to know. We had each other
and we had the job – there never was much time for anything else.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? When Michael was murdered?”
Jackie looked at him quizzically. “We had no idea what your
reaction would have been. Robbie could have easily been booted
out of the force. He’s worked long and hard to make people
believe this act of his – the womanising smoothie who never has much
luck with the ladies. When Michael was alive, if it had all come
out… we talked about it, decided we didn’t care. If it came to
it, we’d resign.”
She took a long drink, sucking on an ice cube. “How did you know about Robbie?”
Burke shrugged. “I’ll come clean, I asked some questions outside
the force. I found out about Michael’s will.”
He’d thought she’d be angry but she just smiled.
“Policeman through and through.”
“Believe me, I thought the answer was just that you and Michael were
having an affair. Robbie was a complete surprise I can tell you.”
Jackie smiled. “He always has been.”
~
“Close your eyes,” Stuart murmured. Dark eyes watched him from
inches away. “Be with Michael for a while. You need
to.”
Robbie nodded once and did as he was told.
They lay face to face in the dark guestroom, naked on Robbie’s
bed. Neither of them were kidding themselves that this was
anything more than offered and accepted comfort. Stuart was
touched that Robbie had watched him all the while they’d jerked one
another off. He’d expected the grieving man to close his eyes and
imagine another man’s hand on his dick, another man’s dick wrapped in
his own fist.
A different man.
A dead man.
Stuart shifted off the bed and climbed into the other one, under the
cold sheets. At the time of Michael’s death he’d been as angry at
the injustice as the rest of his colleagues. But he couldn’t
imagine losing a lover, someone who shared his every waking moment, and
being unable to let loose the grief, the rage at having a life so dear
snatched from him.
He remembered Jackie’s passionate words to him the day before they’d discovered Michael’s body –
“Michael Jardine would walk over glass for you.”
Jardine would have done anything for anyone who worked with him.
But for Robbie and Jackie, he’d have died. His murder had no
meaning and that had been the hardest thing.
He’d never forget the phone call he’d taken at Maryhill that morning.
“DC Fraiser.”
“Hello, son. I was wanting to
speak to DCI Burke.” Something about the address had put Stuart
immediately on edge. Bad news hiding behind false familiarity.
“I’m sorry, he’s out at the moment. Who is this?”
“DI Marsden, Langbank. Is there
anyone more senior around there? I don’t mean to offend but I
need to speak to someone who works with DCI Jardine.”
Stuart smiled, letting it come through in his voice. “I’m on Jardine’s team. Can I take a message?”
A pause a sigh. “Aye, I suppose you can. But it’s not a happy one. What’s your first name, DC Fraiser?”
Odd question. “Stuart, Sir.”
“Well, Stuart, I’m afraid we found a
man’s body early this morning, on the flats when the tide went
out. One of my lads identified him as DCI Michael Jardine.”
Feeling suddenly cold, Stuart tried to remember to breathe. Then he tried to remember protocol.
But he couldn’t.
“Stuart?”
“I’m here.” How he wished he wasn’t. “I don’t… are you sure?”
“We’ve yet to make a formal
identification but he still had his wallet and warrant card on him. I’m
sorry. It looks like he might have drowned.”
A thousand questions vied for attention in Stuart’s brain but he couldn’t find his voice.
“I think you should get your team over here,” DI Marsden carried on gently.
At that moment, thoughts of Jackie pushed his own churning emotions aside. “Yes, Sir.”
The journey to Innis’ apartment was
the worst of his life. He had no idea how to tell Jackie and
Robbie. And when it came to it, when he came face to face with
them, his tears choked him.
If he’d known he was telling Michael’s two lovers that morning, he wasn’t sure he could have said the words.
At that moment he felt a love for Robbie so strong he reached across,
his fingers hovering over the other man’s. He’d never considered
sleeping with his superior before tonight but Robbie had looked so sad
standing by the fence.
He fell asleep with his arm crossing the divide between the two beds and his mind privately wondering what Robbie was imagining.
Every memory of Michael brought with it the sharp pain of his
loss. But none more than the vivid recall that haunted Robbie’s
thoughts when he was on the brink of sleep.
Soft faded denim cupping the tight ass he lusted after.
Thick, white cotton shirt hugging the smooth, slim body he loved so damned much.
Crossing his own kitchen to wrap his
arms around Michael’s waist from behind, to place a trail of tiny
kisses up the long, shaped neck to the close cropped hairs at the base
of the scalp. Closing his eyes he breathed in the apple scent of
Michael’s shampoo in the shot-silk hair.
“Whatcha making?”
Deftly he moved one hand down and back up under the soft shirt to find hot skin.
“Ginger and chocolate sauce for
Jackie’s ice cream.” Robbie glanced around. “She’s in the
garden soaking up the sun.”
“Ummm….” Robbie imagined her lying there. “Did you put sun tan lotion on her yet?”
Michael turned his head, blue eyes dancing. “All over.”
“You’re a tease, Mike, anyone ever tell you?”
Stirring the slowly simmering pan
with one hand, Michael linked the fingers of his other with
Robbie’s. He didn’t speak, but inch by inch he moved their hands
downward until his lover’s palm was pressed against his crotch.
“Subtle,” Rob chuckled softly, tracing the outline of Michael’s rising erection through the soft denim.
“Just proving I’m not a tease.”
He switched off the gas and moved the pan to the back ring. Then
he turned, leaning back carefully, still in the circle of Robbie’s
arms. “I always follow through.”
~
“Why aren’t you two together?” Burke asked after a long silence punctuated only by Jackie ordering another drink.
She looked into the bubbles of her tonic. “We constantly remind
one another of Michael. And that hurts more than either of us can
bare.”
“So you’re gonna throw away what you had? Just like that?”
He shook his head. “That’s wrong, Jackie. It means that
bastard Kennedy won.”
Jackie turned to him, biting her lip to stop her from screaming.
“He did win! He broke us when he killed Michael. I can’t
tell you what he took.” Tears bloomed in her eyes once
again. “You can’t imagine how happy we were, how incredible it is
being loved and loving two people at once. Two people who mean
more to one another than life.” She looked away. “I
couldn’t hope to ever be everything to Robbie. He knows what it’s
like to have everything and he knows what it’s like to lose it.”
For a time Burke considered his drink as if the answers lay at the
bottom of the glass. But he’d long since allayed that notion.
“What about you?” he asked finally. “Could he be everything to you?”
She took a deep breath. “No one could ever replace Michael, not
even Robbie. But… he’s gone. He’s dead. And I love
Robbie.” She couldn’t believe how difficult it was to say, as if
she was betraying Michael’s memory, what he’d been to her and to Rob.
“Speak to him, at least?” Burke was saying now. “Can’t have all three of us moping around here, can we?”
~
Robbie smiled in his sleep.
“…I think… you’re the most amazing thing… to ever happen to me.”
Can’t have been an easy thing to say,
on reflection, with your lover’s tongue in your ass. But Robbie
was touched, nonetheless. He made slow strokes of his hands over
the round globes of Michael’s buttocks and pressed his fingers into the
dip at the small of the back.
“Not to say…” his words were
punctuated by a low moan around the time Robbie pressed as deep as he
could go and curled his tongue, “…Jackie isn’t too.”
Robbie rolled his eyes. During the
time they’d been together, both he and Jackie had discovered that the
only way to shut Michael up was to give him better options, other
things to do with his mouth. Naturally it wasn’t overly difficult
to come up with things. Especially not when his gorgeous blond
settled between his legs practically begging.
Extracting his tongue, touching a
chaste kiss to the relaxed ring of muscle, Robbie moved sensuously up
Michael’s body, positioning himself and sliding inside with no
resistance.
Michael arched up, unable to do much
more than ride out the waves of pleasure that pulsed through his body
as Rob fucked him slowly.
Robbie ran his hand along Michael’s
arm, pushing his fingers between those of his lover. He felt the
sharp squeeze of his lover’s fingers in counterpoint to the tight heat
of his body. Tipping his head forward he licked a salty trail
along the curve of Michael’s spine and lightly bit the sweaty skin at
the base of his skull.
“God, Mike… I love this. I love you.”
Michael dropped his head forward,
inviting more kisses along his neck, his shoulders, in his hair.
Robbie couldn’t get enough of the immediacy of this man, the pure
sensuality when he was aroused. He loved the way he moved, the
way he tasted, the way he felt.
He kept up the sedate rhythm, feeling
every movement of his own and Michael’s bodies sliding together.
The very first time they’d done this he’d climaxed almost as soon as he
was sheathed, the sensations overloading his system. Michael
hadn’t fared any better and Robbie would never forget feeling his
lover’s semen inside him and his lover’s forehead against his back,
Michael shaking his head, utterly embarrassed.
But practice made perfect and this was pure heaven.
He felt Michael start to push himself
up on one elbow, knew he was trying to move things along and eased him
back to the bed, tutting with the breath he had left.
Over the moan of protest, he murmured into his lover’s ear, “Let me. Please.”
Michael turned his head, met his eyes
and nodded again, quickly, acquiescing. Robbie smiled and carried
on at the pace he’d set, long thrusts in and out, driving himself and
Michael agonisingly slowly to climax.
Sliding from Michael’s back, Robbie
collapsed onto his side, watching as his lover turned over to face
him. Struck for a moment by the emotion shining in the blue eyes,
he reached up to stroke damp hair from Michael’s forehead and found
three words on the tip of his tongue.
He licked suddenly dry lips as
Michael took his hand and pressed his mouth to the palm, never looking
away from Robbie’s steady gaze. He nodded once, as if reading the
other man’s mind, then snuggled down and tucked himself under his
lover’s chin.
Robbie held him, closing his eyes, breathing in the scent of them. The scent of sex….
He woke with a start and the first thing he saw was Stuart asleep on the other bed, arm hanging down off the mattress.
Swearing softly to himself, he slid out of bed and pulled on his jeans
and a crumpled sweater, closing the bedroom door behind him with a
gentle click.
For a few long seconds he stood in the dark hall, listening to the
sounds of the sleeping pub. Then he padded down the narrow, steep
staircase.
Jackie was still at the bar. Although the barman had long since
gone to bed, he’d left her alone with a double G&T. She
looked up as Robbie stepped into the dimly lit room.
“Hey.”
He took the stool beside her, folded his arms on the bar and settling his head down on them, facing her.
“Hi.”
She tried not to sound like a bored housewife when she asked, “Where did you get to?”
He closed his eyes and groaned softly. “I can’t keep doing this,
Jackie,” he told her, answering a question she hadn’t asked.
“Doing what? Sleeping with every blond floozy….”
Raising his head he stared at her. “I’ve slept with one person
since Mike was killed. One. That was tonight.” He
hesitated. “And I don’t think he’d appreciate being called a
‘blond floozy’.”
Jackie heard the ferocity of his tone, the pain still so raw in his voice even after two years. And the word, “he?”
Robbie shook his head, defeated. “I love you, Jackie. I
know you love me. Why the hell would I turn to other women?”
Staring back, she let the anger dissipate and took another sip of her drink. “Who was ‘he’?” she asked quietly.
He laid his head back down on his arms. “Stuart.”
“Stuart?!” For a moment no other words came to mind. Then, “How?”
He smiled. “You of all people….”
“I meant, how the hell did you talk him into bed?”
“Why am I always the bad guy? The seducer? For the record, he came on to me.”
“Really?”
“Really!” He sighed, closing his eyes for a second, seeing Michael’s smiling face.
Jackie looked thoughtfully into her drink. “This is getting a wee
bit incestuous, Robbie,” she pointed out, a note of amusement in her
voice.
“He didn’t do it because he fancies me. He did it… because he
cares for me. And he misses Mike. Just not quite as much as
we do.”
She swallowed against the sudden swell of emotion. Her tears
didn’t surprise her any more, but these did. When they started to
fall into her drink she pushed it aside and turned.
Robbie moved, putting his arms around her and holding her tight, crying
right along with her. His soft weeping became wracking
sobs. He hoped Stuart could forgive him for tonight.
He hoped Jackie could forgive him for the last two years.
“We have to let him go,” Jackie muttered through her tears into his shoulder.
He shook his head. “I can’t, Jackie.” And still he held her, like this would be the last time.
It was a frightening thought.
She pulled back, wiped her eyes with a sad smile and finished her drink in one long mouthful.
“There’s a double bed in my room,” she told him. “I’m not
saying….” Pausing, she took a deep, steadying breath.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. We need to talk and we will. I promise. I’m just… going to get some fresh air and go back to bed.”
She nodded. “Stuart.”
“It’s nothing, Jackie. Just a hand job between friends.”
Reaching for her hand he squeezed it. “I love you. There
isn’t anyone else, how can there ever be now?”
Nodding, she squeezed back.
“Good night, Jackie.”
~
He sat in the silent bar for half an hour before going outside.
He hoped the night would be a quiet one in Fenmore and briefly felt
sorry for the frightened and the arrogant members of this
community. How were they to know that the investigating team was
as screwed up as what was happening to this town?
Returning to the place at the fence where Stuart had found him hours ago, Robbie leaned into the darkness.
This place was the worst place they could be. Glasgow with all
its noise, its chaos and distractions, its computers and science and
crime, kept both he and Jackie too busy to think. Out here they
were alone with their memories and it was a bad thing.
Lifting his elbows on to the fence he rubbed his face with his hands.
“You’re goin’a be all right, Rob.”
Head snapping around, he looked into the big blue eyes of his dead lover. “Mike….”
“I told you not to mourn.”
Everything was right; the tender tone, the way Michael’s head was
cocked to one side inquisitively, the gaze that made him the only
person in the whole world right then.
“How can I not?”
“If it helps, Rob, I’m here with you. I never left you.”
He remembered the poem. “I know, you’re just around the
corner.” Michael’s head tipped the other way and a smile touched
his lips.
“I am. I still love you and
Jackie with my whole heart. I’ll never stop loving you.
Seeing you tearing one another apart… it hurts, Rob.”
Robbie wanted to look away. He really was losing it.
Instead he took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to stop it becoming
a painful sob. “Oh God, Mike….”
“It’s all right. You’re all right.”
He would have sworn then to a hand on his shoulder. More tears started in his eyes and he suddenly hated this town.
“Hey.”
Robbie watched his lover’s smile soften into sympathy and understanding.
“I want you to be happy.”
He shook his head, drinking in the beautiful sight of his lover,
recognising only that for a few precious minutes he didn’t feel so
alone. “Not without you, Mike.”
“Of course you can. You’ve got Jackie to help you. Let her.”
Tears ran over his cheeks and a couple of seconds later he was being
held, Michael’s arms strong around him, fingers stroking through his
hair. He hung on, letting out every emotion that had been dredged
up by this place.
“I love you.”
Lifting his head from his arms he blinked the tears from his eyes and
looked up. The heavy clouds had cleared slightly, letting the
light from the moon peek through. Taking a deep breath Robbie
smiled sadly.
“I love you too, Mike.”
~
Glasgow
Jackie dropped onto her sofa, relieved to be back in the city.
Fenmore had been a nightmare; walking on eggshells with Robbie and
Burke, facing off the angry farmers who hadn’t wanted them there.
Only Stuart had seemed remotely happy.
She’d worried about awkwardness between he and Robbie after their night
together but she needn’t have. Nothing had changed on the
outside. Whatever was happening between them – and she doubted
anything was – it was definitely private.
Rolling her head along the back of the sofa she smiled at the photo she
kept on the small table under the window. The three of them in a
pile on the rug in Michael’s lounge – their fourth attempt at using the
timer on her new camera.
She was about to reach for the frame when the doorbell rang.
Never a peaceful moment, but then that’s what she loved about
Glasgow. Pulling herself from the sofa she crossed her apartment
and opened the door.
“Hi.”
“Robbie.” Smiling, she let the door swing open and watched him as
he stepped into her home. She realised then how far they’d
drifted apart. This had once been their home, one of their homes.
Closing the door, locking it, she followed him back through into the lounge.
He stopped by the window, swooping down to pick up the photo that had
caught her attention just before he’d arrived. Looking at it, he
let the happy memory touch a smile to his lips.
“Do you remember us taking this?”
She moved to stand just behind his shoulder, cheek against his arm, feeling closer to him then than they’d been in months.
“Aye, how could I forget?”
Beer in one hand, manual for Jackie’s
new digital camera in the other, Robbie stepped from the kitchen into
the hall and glanced at the front door.
“Where is he?” he asked the house of its rightful owner.
Jackie answered for it, disembodied
voice coming from the lounge. “He said he wanted to drop in to
Mackie’s on his way home.” Mackie - the man whose lover had been
murdered two weeks ago and had sparked the round-the-clock manhunt that
had finally resulted in the arrest of a serial killer newly arrived
from London. “He’s been stressed.”
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Aye, don’t I know about it.”
The last fortnight had been a
constant circle of bickering, sniping, yelling and apologising.
Not at Jackie of course, she always had the sense to stay out of
Michael’s way at such times. But Robbie was the opposite, needing
to be close when his boss and lover just wanted to be left alone.
He knew he pushed it too far sometimes, practically begging Michael one
night to talk to him.
He loved the man desperately and
sometimes his feelings had to be shored up behind the wall of silence
for too long. When the damn burst, it almost certainly was going
to end in a verbal fight that had the other officers running for cover.
“You need to learn to leave him be
when he’s working that hard,” Jackie told him, matter-of-factly, as if
it was the most obvious thing in the world to her.
“What, and let him work himself up to
a heart attack? Not a chance. If a screamin’ row in the
incident room is what it takes to get him to stop for a couple of
hours, there’ll be a lot more of ‘em.” He looked back at the door
as it opened and Michael stepped into his own home.
Blue eyes were regarding him curiously.
“Will there now?” Michael asked him
softly, closing the door and leaning back on it. He threw his tie
and jacket onto the stairs, gazing steadily along the hall at Robbie.
“Mike….”
They started towards one another,
closing the gap, meeting just up from the lounge door. With a
gentle smile, Michael reached his arms around his lover and hugged him.
Relieved, Robbie returned the
embrace, standing for a second or two with their foreheads together
before Michael moved in closer and dropped his head to Robbie’s
shoulder.
“I know why you do it, and let’s leave it at that, okay?”
Rob nodded.
Michael changed out of his suit,
fetched himself a cold glass of lemonade and joined the other two in
the lounge. They were still trying to work out the instructions
for the camera they’d given Jackie for her birthday almost three weeks
ago.
“Budge up.” Dropping to the sofa between them, wriggling until they made room, Michael took the booklet from Robbie.
“It’s because it’s written in
English,” Jackie griped, deliberately putting one leg over Michael’s
and leaning into his shoulder.
Robbie made room gladly. Last
time, Michael had simply sat on his lap. He’d trimmed up over the
years but he was still a fully grown man and for some reason he seemed
heavier when he wasn’t poised over Rob’s eager dick.
They waited patiently while their
lover read the ‘How To Take A Photograph’ section. And finally
Michael took the camera from Jackie.
“So what do you want a photo of?”
She looked at him as if he was asking the obvious. “What do you think?”
With Robbie next to him on the rug
and Jackie lying over his back, Michael reached out and clicked the
timer button. After a count of five, the flash went off and the
picture was taken.
Now they knew how to use it, they set it to automatic and just let it take a series of photos.
Half an hour later, they’d almost forgotten it was there.
Jackie had the whole set saved on her computer, backed up on a CD she’d
copied for both men. For a time, until Michael had found it,
Robbie had used one of the later ones as a background for his personal
laptop.
“Do you dream about him?”
She nodded, sliding one arm around his waist. “Sometimes there
are weeks when I can sleep straight through, night after night.
And then I have the weeks when I’ll wake up every couple of hours with
his name on my lips, his face in my mind and the memory of his touch so
vivid it takes me a few minutes to remember he’s dead.” She
looked from the photo to Robbie’s face. “You do too, don’t you?”
He nodded. “All the time. Asleep… and awake.”
She imagined him thinking she’d tell him he was nuts.
“After Jim died, Michael used to tell me that he could feel him
sometimes. Just… a touch to his hair, a brush over his
shoulder. It reassured him, he said.”
Another nod as he put the photo frame back. “I saw him,” he
whispered, “in Fenmore. I… held him and it felt so real.”
Turning, he took her hands in his own.
She led them to the sofa, urged him down next to her. And they
sat, hand in hand, closer than the night before Fenmore, the night
they’d slept together. For a long time, neither of them spoke.
And then Jackie took a long, deep breath. “Rob, I’m well aware I
can’t be what he was to you. But I don’t want to lose you
too. I know you’re thinking about leaving. If we sell both
houses, with the money from Michael’s place we could get away. If
you want me with you.”
Again, he let his eyes linger on the photo, on their smiles,
remembering their happiness. Sometimes it felt like these photos
of the three of them were of complete strangers, taken a million years
ago, and sometimes it felt like yesterday.
“I thought it would be the best thing. I thought… it wouldn’t
hurt so much if I every little thing….” Sighing, he shook his
head. “But I’m not so sure now. I don’t know if leaving
here would be leaving him. Maybe I need all the reminders.
I just don’t know.” He squeezed her hand and shifted on the sofa
to face her. “I’ve spoken to Burke, I’m taking some time
off. Nothing serious, just a couple of weeks. I’ve booked a
flight to Barcelona tomorrow morning.”
For a moment she stared at him. And then she smiled. “It’ll do you good.”
“I’m sorry….”
“Don’t be.”
“I’m not leaving you. Even if it works out and I don’t spend
three weeks moping around the city I’ll be back. And when I am,
we can talk about what you want to do and what I want to do.”
“Does Burke know why you’re going?”
“Aye, I think so. I think he’s been suspicious of us for a while.”
She didn’t mention their conversation in the bar. What was the point?
“Send me a postcard?”
She saw him out later. His flight was early, he said, and he needed to pack.
At the door, he kissed her. “Give my love to Mike, when you go?”
She nodded but added, “He’s not there, you know, in that grave. He’s always with us.”
Robbie smiled and stepped into the hall. “Think he’ll like Spain?”
It took her by surprise and she laughed. She couldn’t remember
doing that in a very long time. “No. I think he’ll detest
it.”
fin - for now
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