Fifteen years is a long time (2)

Note: after writing Fifteen years is a long time, Rae asked me how Hutch would react - seeing Jeanie, learning that Starsky kept her from seeing him. Food for thought, food for more writing. So here's the second part of this story.

"CAN I HAVE SOME QUIET HERE?!" Hutch stormed out of his office, his characteristic piercing look synonymous for his annoyance, sharp and icy.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant." Young Parker called over the racket in the station, where several women were all shouting and screaming and trying to claw at each other. "Got ourselves some drunken women here and this lady seems to... OUCH! AUW! Lady, I'm gonna. Ooww!" The woman Parker had pointed to, slapped him over the head with her purse, her example instantly followed by another angry-faced woman next to her, who also started screaming and tried to bury her nails in Parker's face.

The blond man sped to the women, pulled Parker backwards by his collar and bellowed, "ENOUGH!" He rose to his full length, immediately pressing the stamp of his presence on the people in the small room.

A silence descended.

"Now," Hutch said, his tone that of a tired, but patient father to his children, "one at the time. Take a seat, ladies. Parker, you start here. Robbins, take the right table." Quickly he divided the tasks at hand between the two officers, when his eye caught a fair-haired woman who stood furthest away. He could've sworn she kept her face down so he wouldn't spot her, but he did recognise her instantly.

Jeanie. Jeanie. Jeanie Walton.

Parker and Robbins set themselves at taking statements and didn't notice how their lieutenant walked past the women, and made his way over to one in particular.

"Please step into my office, ma'am," he said formally. Without a word she rose and walked behind the lieutenant to his office. He closed the door behind her.

"Jeanie." Hutch let out the air he'd been holding.

"Hutch."

They stood an arm length apart, assessed each other as if they were trying to read each other's mind. Then, as if on command, they embraced each other.

"Hello Jeanie," Hutch whispered in her hair.

"Hello Hutch." Jeanie wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips close to his.

"What are you doing here? You with that lot?" He asked, opening up the space between them by taking a small step back.

"Not really. One of them hit my car, I got kind of dragged along in that circus. Before I knew it, the officer brought them here and I had to come too. Get an official statement for Avis, I reckon."

Hutch looked at her. Jeanie was still a stunning beauty. Huggy would certainly call her a 'Foxy Lady', Hutch thought.

"You look good, Hutch," Jeanie said. She left her hands on his arms, not wanting to let go of him.

"So do you."

She saw a framed photograph on Hutch's desk and nodded. "Is that your wife?"

"Yes."

"Your daughters?"

"Yep. The whole family." Hutch carefully freed himself from her hands and gestured to a chair. "Won't you sit down?"

Jeanie didn't hear him or didn't listen. She walked over to the photo and picked it up. Her eyes grew intense as she scrutinised the woman and the girls on the picture. The woman was a slender brunette, with thick, shoulder long curly hair and lively brown eyes, a laugh that seemed to split her face into two, with regular teeth to complete that smile. There was so much light in her face that Jeanie realised that Luce was the only appropriate name for the woman in the photo. Three girls, looking the perfect mixture of the blond Hutch and the dark Luce, surrounded their mother with the same big smiles and waved at the photographer - Hutch, most likely. The photo was taken outside, somewhere near sea, giving it its special atmosphere.

A picture of happier times.

"I'm sorry she died," Jeanie said suddenly.

Hutch froze. His shoulders tensed and a sudden cramp flashed in his stomach.

"How do you know that?" His voice was now quiet, nearly reluctant.

"David told me," Jeanie answered softly. She didn't let go of the photo and didn't take her eyes off of it.

"Dav-you mean Starsk?"

"Yes. Starsky. We met yesterday."

"You did?" Then why didn't he tell me that?

"Yes. By accident, like you and me today. We weren't supposed to meet. This... this wasn't meant to happen."

Hutch didn't answer right away and apparently that opened the door for Jeanie to start talking.

"Hutch - I asked him not to tell you I was in town. I didn't want to force you to think about that. that period. I begged of him not to put you through it again. You shouldn't be exposed to ... to all of. all of that again." She swallowed. Her eyes flashed from the photo to Hutch and back to the smiling people in the picture. Hutch saw the lines around her eyes that weren't there when they'd been a couple, fifteen years ago.

Jeanie talked and talked, like a runaway train, rattling on, nearly frantically, trying to find... what? Peace of mind? Consolation? Absolution? Forgiveness? To Hutch, the words that Jeanie uttered turned into a goo of undefined syllables. His mind took another road.

Do you know how a trip feels, Jeanie? Have you got any idea what height it leads you too, how wonderful, beautiful, fantastic and great the world is when that fluid hits the artery? Huh? Do you? Do you know how great the escape is that that white stuff offers? Will you ever understand that? Will you ever understand that it's not the hurt that keeps people hooked, but it is the immense, vast feeling of floating in peace that keeps them coming back? The forgetfulness? The sun that shines brighter, the flowers that smell sweeter, the chocolate that's more tasty, the music that is only perfect in that state?

It isn't until it's too late that you know how much you need that feeling. It isn't until you're addicted to what it does to your body that you realise it's beyond repair.

Hutch stood up.

"Jeanie, you better go. There's no future for us. I don't blame you for what happened - you were just as much a victim as I was. But that's in the past - I've moved on."

"Hutch, won't you give me a chance? An opportunity to let you see I acted out of love? I went with Forest, didn't I? He let you go, didn't he?"

"Out of love?"

Out of love? Luce - she loved me. Michaela, Roseanne and Mariel, they love me. Starsky, he loves me. Unconditionally. Dragged me through the nightmares. And Huggy. And the Cap and his wife and their kids, and their kids too. They've never hidden their true selves from me.

Did you know Jeanie, that I stood with my hands on the needle when Luce died? Did you? Did you know that the syringe was *that* close to the artery in my arm? Who was there to help me? Starsk. Huggy. The girls.

"He didn't let me go, Jeanie. He ordered his men to kill me but I managed to escape. With the help of friends I pulled through."

Suddenly, in an unexpected rage, Jeanie smacked the framed photograph against the side of Hutch's desk. The glass broke and the sound cracked through the room, as the shards clattered on the parquet floor.

"I LOVED you, for God's sake!"

Hutch stepped over to her and took the remains of the frame from her hands. Carefully he put the photo on the desk. "Please go." He squatted down and cautiously picked up the broken glass.

"Hutch, I'm. sorry." Jeanie tried again. Her voice was hollow now, silently screaming for acknowledgment.

"Please go." Calmly, Hutch repeated himself.

As the door fell shut behind Jeanie, Hutch picked up the receiver and dialled Starsky's number.

"Lieutenant Starsky."

"Starsk - "

"Heya, buddy!"

"Jeanie was here."

For three seconds it was dead still.

"Stay put, Hutch. I'll be right over."

"Starsk - why didn't you tell me?"

"Ah buddy - I'm sorry. I tried to shield you from her. She's no good for you, Hutch." The voice carried a tone of guilt. "She came to the station?"

"Yes."

"She knew you worked there."

She knew you worked there. Hutch saw the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle suddenly falling into place. Jeanie had waited for the right moment to come in. She hadn't been involved in that clutter of drunk women. And it dawned on him. It wasn't Jeanie who had tried to avoid meeting him, it had been Starsky. His buddy had tried to protect him, spare him the unavoidable pain.

"Starsk?"

"Hm?"

"Let's go out and grab a beer. Huggy's got some Dutch brew that seems to be pretty good."

"Hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

"I am?"

"Roseanne's got her school play this evening and you promised Michaela to come and watch the softball game. The beer'll have to wait."

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

Starsky. oh buddy... How could I ever think. What was I. You're my salvation. It's in the small things that. that's what makes friendship. Luce baby, don't you ever worry about me. Starsk here to watch me.

"I'll see you here in fifteen minutes, Gordo."

A laugh, light, relieved. "I'll be over when I'm done here."

A click ended their conversation. Thanks buddy. I owe you big time. You keep me sane.

It wasn't until Hutch put the receiver down that he allowed for his hands to shake. The wild swirling images in his mind came to a rest, soothed by the voice of his best friend. He sat down and squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to get his erratic heart beat and sweaty hands under control.

Fifteen years. So long ago. But still - as if it happened only yesterday.

Fifteen years is a long time. But then again, it's as rapid as the blink of an eye, isn't it?

The End

Elsa, September 200