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“When does the sun set again?” Astarion asked. He was leaning his head against his hand, his elbow propped on the window of the car. Outside, the rolling country landscape moved by slowly and lazily. Astarion’s boredom had been slowly mounting for the last hour with nothing to look at except corn fields and the occasional cow.
“I think about seven thirty,” Gale answered, “Give or take a few minutes.”
Astarion made a noncommittal noise and glanced down at the clock on the car’s dashboard. They had about half an hour, then. “Do you think we’ll make it there with any light left?”
“We should. GPS says we’re almost there,” Gale replied.
And indeed, it was only about ten minutes later that they were pulling into the driveway of the old Victorian-era farmhouse. It had been renovated with an addition some time in the 1960s and it was pretty obvious where the old part of the house started and ended, wooden siding suddenly turning to brick. The yard was overgrown and paint was visibly peeling away from the wooden porch.
Astarion exited the car with a groan, feeling his back crack in several places as he stretched it out. He peered up at the windows of the top floor but couldn’t see inside past the drawn curtains. He helped Gale carry their gear inside and scrunched his nose when they entered, the musty smell of the house hitting him all at once.
“Would it kill the current owner to clean in here?” he quipped as they walked through the door. “Pun fully intended.” Gale shot him a look and they entered the living room just to the side of the entryway. The decor was dated and it was clear that no one had lived at the property in years by the thin layer of dust on most of the surfaces.
“It adds to the spooky appeal, I guess,” Gale replied. He sat their main paranormal equipment bag on the coffee table and began to carefully unpack, laying their various investigative tools out neatly on the scratched wood. Astarion shrugged and began to set up their camera equipment and ring light. When all was said and done the sun had indeed begun to set, throwing harsh rays of light through the windows that illuminated the faded wallpaper with a golden glow. They positioned themselves on the couch and Gale pressed the button on their camera remote to start filming.
“Welcome back, folks,” Gale said, a wide smile on his face, “Today we have the absolute privilege of investigating a never-before-seen property!”
“That’s right,” Astarion added, leaning forward to dramatically add, “Which means if there is evidence to be found here, you all will be the first to know!”
They went on to explain the history of the property. It had been owned by the same family for generations, lived in by the working members of the adjacent farm. The current owner had inherited it when his mother Greta Atwood died a few years ago. He had not sold it, choosing instead to keep it for sentimental reasons. Recently, however, he had noticed strange activity in the house that appeared paranormal in nature and had decided to call in investigators to get to the bottom of it. Gale and Astarion had been invited to stay in the house overnight and had access to the full property.
“So we are here to find out,” Gale continued, “Are the spirits of generations of family members still here, trapped within the walls? Or is it all a hoax?” He hit the button to turn the camera back off and tilted his head to one side to crack it. “You ready to start?” he asked, and Astarion nodded.
They started their usual process—a quick tour of the house, showing the various rooms and explaining the occurrences that the owner had reported in each. Astarion carried their camera while Gale did most of the talking, content to listen to him recite the information. He was much better at that sort of memorization than Astarion was. Then they decided to begin their first session to begin to gather evidence, choosing the dining room to start. They set their camera up on the tripod and brought out an EMF reader and a voice recorder.
“Is there anyone with us in the room right now?” Astarion asked. They waited a few seconds and nothing happened.
“If anyone is here, could you please make a noise for us?” Gale added. Again, no noise. “You can talk to us, or you can get close to this little black box here,” he continued, pointing to the EMF reader, “and it will make a beeping noise.”
Nothing.
“Well this room was a bust,” Astarion said after about twenty minutes of trying. “You want to go ahead and eat dinner before we continue?”
Gale nodded. “Might as well. It always seems like the best evidence comes later at night anyway. It’ll be good to pass some time.” He began to walk towards the kitchen and pointed back in the direction of the living room. “Would you mind grabbing the cooler?”
“Sure,” Astarion replied, already walking to fetch it. The living room was noticeably colder than it had been earlier when he entered, but he chalked that up to the sun now being fully set. Still, it sent a small shiver through him. As he bent to pick the cooler up from the floor he thought he heard Gale say something behind him. He turned to ask him to repeat it but was surprised when nothing was there.
Weird.
Astarion brought the cooler into the kitchen and set it down on the table. “Hey did you say something when I was in the other room?” Astarion asked. Gale raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Hmm, well…hopefully that’s a good sign, then. Means there might actually be entities here.”
“Hopefully,” Gale echoed as he pulled a sandwich from the cooler.
They sat and ate, chatting about nothing in particular. It was an uneventful meal, which Astarion had to admit was slightly disappointing. He was hoping there might be some sudden rush of evidence they could pick their camera up for…or maybe that Gale would make more eye contact with him over their sandwiches. But alas.
When they were done, Astarion volunteered to clean up while Gale set their gear up in the next room. He collected their trash into a bag and was happy to find that the water was still turned on in the house so he could wash his hands in the kitchen sink afterward. As he did so, he looked out the picture window above the sink at the back yard. It was pitch black outside now. There was a solitary porch light turned on but the illumination did not stretch very far. He could make out a lone tree a few dozen feet away from the house that was throwing a rather creepy shadow over the unkempt grass. A sudden rush of wind caused the branches to sway and rustle, and it looked almost for a moment like the shadows took on the shape of a person.
Astarion did not get scared easily, which was good, since this would have been a terrible career choice for him otherwise. But then again it was hard to really get scared when the only “evidence” they ever seemed to find were soft scratchy sounds on voice recorders that sounded vaguely like human voices or the rare photo of some mist in the corner of a room. He had never actually seen a ghost before. Still, he was not immune to being freaked out, and he turned from the window quickly to go find Gale.
Gale, who had, apparently, seen several ghosts before, although his personal sightings were all from when he was a child and his memory of them was fuzzy. Still, Astarion was jealous. He really wanted to see a ghost at least once. He had always been interested in anything to do with the paranormal or the creepy, even going through an awkward wannabe-goth phase as a teenager that made him cringe to think about now. To be fair, he still dressed in a way that some might label as “alternative”, but thankfully he spent way less time in Hot Topic now.
Gale, on the other hand, was a prime example of what Astarion would call a “nerd”. He had always been into science and empirical evidence and had gotten into investigating as a way to try to explain what he had experienced as a child. He was the one who knew all about their equipment and always seemed to have another gadget for them to try on an investigation. Seeing how passionate he was about ghost hunting always made Astarion smile.
They had met in college at a Halloween party. Astarion had been dressed as a vampire and Gale as a wizard and they had started a conversation about their favorite fantasy shows. They were fast friends after that and decided to make the paranormal YouTube channel together as a leap of faith after graduation. It had taken off rather quickly and now they were able to travel the country and ghost hunt together as their full-time profession.
It was wonderful.
Astarion walked into the living room to see Gale had set their investigation equipment and camera back up in front of the couch. They had already been here earlier to film the intro, but the house was not very big (even with the 1960s addition) so it was inevitable that they would need to film in some rooms more than once.
“I really thought we would have more evidence by now,” Gale muttered as he fiddled with their Ovilus device. “I mean I know we only really investigated one room so far but we’ve been here over an hour at this point and nothing has happened.”
“Who knows,” Astarion replied as he flopped back onto the couch, “maybe the fish just aren’t biting today.”
“Ha,” Gale laughed softly, “ghost fish.”
Astarion rolled his eyes. What a dork.
Once they were settled Gale hit the remote and smiled at the camera. “We’re back in the living room,” he started, “and we decided to pull out one of y’alls favorite devices…the Ovilus!” Gale held the thing up to show the black and red box to the camera, “For those that don’t know, this handy little thing reads micro-fluctuations in the environment around it and translates that data into words.”
He flicked the switch on the side to turn it on and set it down in front of them on the coffee table.
“Is anyone here?” Astarion asked.
No answer.
“Can you tell us anything about yourself?” Gale asked.
No answer.
Gale made a small frustrated noise and Astarion looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He was shifting slightly back and forth in his seat and Astarion could tell he was getting annoyed. If they managed to gather zero evidence here it meant no video…which meant that this entire trip was a waste.
“Is there anything you want to tell us?” Astarion asked. It was not a question they normally asked—at least not as an opener—but the situation was getting desperate.
There was a short pause, and then suddenly the small light on the front of the box lit up green and it said, in the strange robotic voice that it had, “Boys.”
Gale sat up straighter and leaned forward. “Yes! We are boys.”
Astarion couldn’t help his small smile in response to Gale’s enthusiasm.
There were a few beats of silence, and then the box very distinctly said “Bedroom.”
“Are you in the bedroom?” Astarion asked. As if in answer there was a sudden thud from somewhere above them on the second floor. Gale gasped and twisted to look up at the ceiling. Another thud, louder than the first, seemed to come from the same location.
“Well it looks like the entity has moved upstairs!” Gale said to the camera, “So let’s head up there right now.”
Astarion leaned forward to grab the camera as Gale did the same. In doing so he brushed Gale’s hand with his own and Gale pulled his arm back sharply. Astarion frowned at the movement but quickly reset his expression, remembering they were filming.
“I have it,” he said as he pulled the camera from the tripod. Gale nodded jerkily and stood. Astarion gestured towards the stairs. “After you.”
Gale began to walk up and, without turning around, said “I hope you’re hurrying back there.”
“Never thought you’d be in such a rush to get me to a bedroom, Dekarios” Astarion quipped. Gale tripped slightly on the stairs and threw an odd look over his shoulder at Astarion.
“What?”
Astarion held up the hand not holding the camera in the air up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, it was just a joke.”
If he were being honest, he did find Gale attractive. He had ever since the Halloween party when he saw Gale in those stupid bright purple wizard robes. But beyond just liking the way he looked—his dark hair and thick eyelashes and sad puppy eyes—Astarion had also always liked his personality. He was kind, smart, and witty, and he was extremely passionate about his interests in a way that made Astarion want to sit and listen to him talk for hours.
But Gale was clearly not attracted to him. He had never indicated he was in any way, at least. Not that Astarion had asked, but…it was fine. Astarion very much enjoyed their friendship and had resigned himself for a while now that this was all they would ever be. It did not stop him from making the occasional flirtatious joke, though, just to watch Gale get flustered.
They made it to the master bedroom and immediately began asking more questions. Astarion brought out the EMF reader again and set it at the foot of the bed on top of the dusty quilt.
“Are you here? Can you say something else?” Gale asked. He was still holding the Ovilus and almost the second he was done asking the question it lit up and said “Bone”.
“Bone?” Astarion said, “What, like…a skeleton maybe?”
“I have no idea,” Gale said, “I doubt there are somehow bones in the walls…but maybe there—”
There was a small tapping noise like footsteps in the corner of the room. Astarion jumped and swung the camera over but nothing was there. Then the EMF reader began to light up, showing that there had been a spike of electromagnetic activity on the bed.
“This is great,” Gale whispered. He was looking around the room rapidly, rocking back and forth on his feet with what was obviously nervous energy. “If you are there can you make that light go on again?” he asked, pointing to the EMF. Sure enough, a few seconds later it turned on again. Gale gasped and turned towards the camera.
“Guys, this is the highest number of intelligent responses we have ever gotten so close together,” he said, “this property really is special.”
And then several things happened one after the other.
The EMF meter on the bed began to beep louder and faster than Astarion had ever heard it beep before. A sudden chill washed over the room, like the temperature had dropped at least a few degrees. And, most shockingly, the alarm clock that was sitting on the nightstand was suddenly flung across the room, hitting the wall behind Gale’s shoulder.
Both men screamed.
And then they were running from the room and down the hall.
“What the fuck was that!” Astarion yelled as they ran down the stairs.
“I don’t know!” Gale yelled back. As they approached the front door Astarion grabbed at Gale’s arm to stop him from running any further and Gale whipped around with a scream.
“It’s just me,” Astarion panted, holding both hands in the air, “But we can’t leave. I am not going outside right now. There is this really creepy tree, and the fields…that’s some Children of the Corn shit out there. No way.”
Gale looked between him and the door a few times frantically before taking a big breath and nodding. “Okay, but I am not going back upstairs either. That was insane. I have never seen anything—”
And then there was another noise, this time from beside them in the living room.
And they were running again.
For some reason, in his panicked state, Astarion felt like being in a smaller space would feel safer. Like pulling the covers up over yourself to prevent the monsters from getting you. As they ran through the kitchen he spotted the door to what he assumed was the pantry and ripped it open to find that it was a walk-in. Perfect.
“In here!” he whispered, his voice high and strained. Gale turned around and nodded before rushing in after him. Astarion closed the door and they were plunged into total darkness. They made no movements for a few moments, waiting with baited breath for any more noises.
“Is there a light switch?” Gale whispered after a while. Astarion felt around next to the door and found one, but when he flipped it nothing happened.
“Must be burned out,” he whispered back. Gale swore under his breath. “Here, I can give us some light,” Astarion continued. He brought his phone out from his pocket and turned on his flashlight. It was the best they had; in their hasty escape they hadn’t grabbed any of their equipment from the room, including any better sources of light.
Gale winced as the sudden light hit his face and Astarion looked around. The pantry had been emptied of food but there were still a few old appliances still sitting on the top shelves. Astarion placed his phone face down on one of the empty shelves so the flashlight was pointing up and lighting the room as well as it could. “You okay?” he asked softly.
Gale did not respond right away. He was breathing heavily and Astarion could see that his pupils were blown wide. Neither of those things were surprising, necessarily—they had just been running for what felt like their lives and the lighting was low, but…he wasn’t sure. It seemed like there was something else going on.
“Gale?” he whispered.
Gale looked up at him and blinked a few times. His tongue darted out to lick at his lips and Astarion couldn’t help staring at its path. “That was exhilarating,” he eventually responded.
“I would call it terrifying,” Astarion replied.
“Yes, well, I, uh…” Gale started, and then was silent for a moment. Astarion took a concerned step forward towards him.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, “You don’t seem well.”
“This might be an awkward question,” Gale continued, ignoring Astarion’s inquiry, “So bear with me.”
Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“When you get scared, do you, uh…” and then Gale said a few more words, but he mumbled them in such a low voice that Astarion could not make them out. He took another few steps forward, now skirting the edge of an acceptable personal space range.
“What did you say?” he asked. Gale cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes.
“Does fear…well, exhilaration, really. Does it ever have…other…effects on you?” Gale asked. Astarion tilted his head in question.
“Like what?” he asked, “If you need to find the bathroom and you’re scared to go alone, I’m okay walking you there.”
“No!” Gale replied, his voice oddly sharp, “Sorry, that came out harsh. But no. That’s not what I meant. I…uh…”
Astarion took another step forward, bringing his hands up to hold Gale’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Gale. Ask what you want to ask,” he murmured. The man was starting to worry him. He had never seen Gale this discomposed before.
Gale swallowed a few times and Astarion could see the contours of this throat flexing. He leaned forward slightly, subconsciously drawn in by the sight. Gale looked back up and met his eyes.
“Does it…”
He was still breathing heavily, and Astarion could feel how quickly his pulse was beating beneath his hands.
“...ever turn you on?”
Astarion’s eyes flew wide.
“What?”
Gale frowned and took a step backward, breaking the contact with Astarion. He turned away to face the back of the small room, giving Astarion a profile view of him. He was blushing, the red color of his face barely visible but still unmistakable in the low light.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “that was a stupid thing to ask.”
Astarion blinked a few times, processing what Gale had just said. He suddenly put two and two together—the heavily breathing, the dilated pupils…Gale was turned on from being afraid.
“Gale…” Astarion whispered. He closed the distance between them again and reached up to place a hand gently on the side of Gale’s neck.
“Forget I said anything,” Gale said, his voice tense. Astarion shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he replied, “It makes sense, I guess. Adrenaline has multiple effects on the body. Including…y’know. This.”
Gale briefly scrunched his face in what looked like embarrassment and shook his head. “You don’t have to be so nice about it. That was objectively a weird thing for me to say.”
Astarion huffed a quiet laugh. He extended the thumb from the hand holding Gale’s neck and ran it along his cheek. Gale sucked in a small breath and met his eyes.
“I wasn’t just saying that to be nice,” Astarion murmured. He leaned forward slightly, bringing their faces closer together. He had never been this close to Gale before and he could feel something in his lower belly begin to stir.
“Then…” Gale paused and visibly swallowed again. “Why…why did you say it?”
Astarion smirked. “Well, you’re my friend,” he said. He glanced down at Gale's mouth to see that the man’s lips had parted. “and maybe…maybe I’d like to help you.”
Gale tilted his head, whether in question or to move their lips that much closer together was unclear. “Help me with what?” he whispered.
“This,” Astarion purred as he brought his other hand up to palm at the front of Gale’s pants.
“Fuck,” Gale breathed.
And then they were kissing, wasting no time licking into each other's mouths. Gale’s hand came up to tangle in Astarion’s hair and his own hands flew to Gale’s hips. They closed all distance between their bodies and then Astarion was pushing Gale back against the wall of the pantry, pressing himself into the man.
From somewhere above them there was a soft bump and Astarion felt Gale sharply inhale against his lips. They froze for a moment, listening, and then Gale was rutting against his thigh where Astarion had it pushed between his legs.
“You really do get turned on by that,” he gasped as he pulled back, “how long has that been going on?”
“It’s never happened before,” Gale replied, leaning forward to kiss along Astarion’s jaw, “I guess I’ve never been this scared before.”
Astarion started to make a small noise of acknowledgement but it was quickly turned into a groan when Gale reached down to grab at his ass. He pulled back just enough to tug at the button and zipper of his jeans. Gale did so as well and then they were half-naked together in the relative dark. Looking down, the shadow of his own body mostly obscured Gale’s crotch from him and he decided that would simply not do, so he promptly dropped to his knees to pull the man’s leaking cock into his mouth.
“Ah—Ah—” Gale gasped.
Astarion wasn’t sure if he was trying to say his name or simply make sounds of pleasure, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he was pulling those noises from his friend, the man he had been attracted to for so long, sent a shock of electricity straight to his groin. Gale’s fingers came down to tangle themselves in Astarion’s curls and he groaned at the pressure on his scalp. He worked the shaft with an increasingly slick hand while he sucked at the head, ripping the most delicious noises from the man above him. Then, another noise like a high-pitched creaking came from somewhere in the house.
“Shit.”
Gale’s hips stuttered and Astarion could feel his cock throb against his tongue. He looked up at Gale through his eyelashes to find that Gale had thrown his head back against the wall, arcing his neck in a way that meant Astarion could see every gasp, every swallow, every twitch of his skin. He had the sudden urge to see more of his skin, and stood to rip at the front of Gale’s button-down shirt.
“Get this off,” he rasped.
“Shouldn’t we keep at least some clothes on?” Gale replied, “We’re at someone’s house.”
Astarion laughed, desperately horny for this absolute dork of a man, and shook his head. “I think from that perspective we’re rather too far gone at this point,” he replied. Gale seemed to agree after a brief moment of thought and was soon tugging at Astarion’s shirt to pull it over his head. When they were finally both bare Astarion raked his eyes up down Gale’s soft body. He ran his fingers through the dark hair on Gale’s chest with one hand and reached down to grip a handful of his thigh with the other.
Gale made a soft noise and grabbed at Astarion’s shoulders. “I’m sorry if I’m not…well…”
Astarion raised his eyebrows. “Gale Dekarios, were you about to apologize for the way you look?” he asked. Gale shrugged slightly, a small blush returning to his face. Astarion pulled him into a bruising kiss and pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, “You are gorgeous.”
Gale nodded, their noses rubbing together from the action. Astarion pushed him back against the wall again, determined to show the man how attracted to him he really was. He shifted his hips to line their cocks alongside each other and tilted his head down so he spit onto his hand. As he wrapped his fingers around both of them Gale let out a breathy moan and Astarion chased the noise with his tongue.
They frotted against each other for a few minutes, panting into each other’s mouths, before another sudden noise brought them back to the moment. It was a thud, soft but distinct, and it sounded much closer than any of the other noises had since they had been in the pantry. Gale let out a ragged moan in response and Astarion increased the pace of his hands. He had lost all ability to be scared now, so absorbed by the man in front of him.
And then he could feel Gale start to tense.
“Shit, Ast–Astarion, I—” Gale was mumbling, a string of filthy noises leaving his mouth with the rhythm of Astarion’s hand. He let loose another string of spit onto their cocks, rewetting them for the final push.
“Cum for me,” Astarion said, tilting his head to whisper it directly into Gale’s ear. Then Gale went still, nearly making no noise as he came thick ropes across Astarion’s knuckles. He kept pumping their cocks until he felt Gale start to go slack, and it was only another moment before he could feel his own release begin to build, the added slickness of Gale’s cum feeling so good as he used it to stroke just himself.
“Are you going to…” Gale panted. Astarion nodded frantically. “Then c—”
He didn’t even get the word out before Astarion was coming, his muscles releasing in a wave of pleasure. His cum joined Gale’s across his hand and their stomachs. Gale held him through it, swaying with him while he spasmed, and continued to hold him after while he gradually caught his breath. Once his body had calmed he pressed his forehead against Gale’s, their faces close but not otherwise touching, and let out a small laugh.
“Well that was interesting,” he murmured, a smile pulling at his lips. Gale was the one to roll his eyes this time.
“I’ll say,” he replied.
They spent the night in the pantry sitting on the floor and talking, occasionally falling silent for a moment when they heard another odd noise. Eventually they saw a crack of sunlight start to peek out from under the door and Astarion opened it cautiously.
The kitchen looked entirely normal, albeit pretty dusty, and Astarion felt a rush of relief that the house had not somehow transformed overnight into some sort of terrifying haunted mansion. They gathered their things quickly, rushing together in and out of the master bedroom as quickly as possible to grab their dropped camera and equipment. They left the alarm clock where it sat on the floor next to the wall, not daring to touch it.
Astarion breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sat down in the car. He looked up at the top floor windows and noticed the curtains in one had been pulled halfway open. Weird—he distinctly remembered them being closed the night before, and neither of them had touched them. He thought he saw a flash of something behind in the glass, like a person looking down at them, but if there was anything there it disappeared as quickly as it came.
Then Gale was getting into the car and he shook his head, refocusing on the road as they began to pull away from the house.
“You know we won’t be able to salvage a video from that,” he said as they began to drive back through the countryside. Gale shrugged. He kept his head pointed forward towards the road but he sent Astarion a small sideways glance.
“It’s okay,” he replied with a smile, “This one was just for us.”
Bonus Ghost POV
Goodness, those two boys were idiots.
It was obvious to Greta Atwood from the moment that they walked into her home that they liked each other. They were simply too blind to see it, and she decided that she would make it her mission to get them to notice their mutual affection before the night was out—it was not as if she had much else better to do in her undead life.
She had resisted the urge to play with their silly “equipment” at first in hopes of getting them to focus on each other, but they remained absolutely obtuse and she ultimately had been forced to use a heavier hand. She thought at first that guiding them up to the bedroom with a few well-timed bumps and words might do the trick, but they were still too focused on trying to talk to her instead of each other. So she was forced to indicate what she thought they might do…but she had to pick the phrasing delicately.
She had thought carefully about what word she could say into the strange little communication device to get her point across. “Sex” seemed a bit too forward, and she distinctly recalled a confusing conversation she had had with her grandson before she died where he had explained that sex and gender were different things. She didn’t want these two men who were clearly LTG…LGTQ…GTBA…ohhhh whatever that acronym was (Greta had never been good with mnemonics, but she tried!). Whatever. She didn’t want them to get confused by her meaning of the word.
And she could never bring herself to swear, even in death, so using a word like “f**k” was out of the question. Her ghostly form shuddered at the thought. So she had settled on a word she had heard her granddaughter use once to describe the carnal act—“bone”—but the boys had misinterpreted that too! Maybe the vernacular of the youth had changed too much in the few years since she died.
She also tried patting the coverlet near their strange little black box to make it light up, and when they continued to ignore the rather obvious large piece of furniture in the room (the bed), she accidentally lost her temper and slammed the clock off the nightstand in frustration. It was not her finest moment if she were being honest, but strangely that action seemed to do the trick.
Oh, they ran through the house making a great old ruckus, but then when they decided to hide in her pantry it wasn’t long before she could tell they had finally gotten to…ah…"know" each other. She had left them alone at that point, of course—she might be a creeper (as in ghost), but she was not a creep!
She hoped she hadn’t distracted them too much with her little bumps here and there after that. She had tried to be quiet, but she was just too used to floating around her house willy-nilly without a care for the noise she was making. Eventually they came out of the pantry and it was clear they had found their love for one another. She watched them from her upstairs window as they left, satisfied that even in death she had done some good for the world.