Obsession

There it was, the object of his desire, it just sat there laid out on the counter as if in offering to him.

There it was, the object of his desire; it just sat there, laid out on the counter as if in offering to him. It was so close, all he had to do was reach out and touch. What harm would it be to touch it? What harm could come from just a look? He had some money, sure it was for something else, and he didn’t need it, but he wanted it.

It was a want so bad it hurt, but he made a promise to his partner, and he couldn’t break that promise. Or could he? His hand hovered over it as his heart and mind fought over the right choice. His heart screamed of hurt at broken promises while his mind argued his partner would never have to know; it would be easy to keep it a secret. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“No harm no foul,” he mumbled to himself, glancing over his shoulder at his partner across the room where he was interviewing another witness. As if sensing the man’s struggle, his partner looked up and their eyes met. The other’s glance was piercing, and went straight to his soul, exposing his every thought.

Nervously, the man looked away, turning his back on the eyes that could read him like a book, but he could still feel the other’s scrutiny.

He knows the man’s thoughts as his eyes studied the one thing he wanted most in the entire world at that moment.

His hands twitched and a glean of sweat broke out across his brow, and he reached out for it. The mantra, “What he doesn’t know,” keeping pace with his beating heart.

“What are you doing?”

His partner’s voice startled the man and he quickly pulled his hand back, thrusting it into his pocket as he whirled around effectively blocking the item from view.

“What do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me like that?” The man tried to keep his voice steady with a hint of anger, but failed. He knew he had been made.

His partner didn’t waver. “I asked, what you are doing?”

The man shrugged. “Nothing.”

His partner studied him some more, then simply nodded gently, nudging the man aside so he could see what his friend was hiding.

Upon seeing it and the money laid out next to it, the partner sighed and shook his head, then met the man’s eyes, a hint of amusement in his own eyes. “Starsk, you promised; no more watches till after your birthday.”

“Aw c’mon, Hutch; it’s just one watch. What will it hurt, huh? Huh?” Starsky asked as he followed his partner’s laughing figure out of the jewelry store where they had been investigating yet another smash-and-grab robbery.

“A promise is a promise, buddy, and a bet is a bet. Three months without buying a single new watch,” Hutch said over the roof of his partner’s red Torino, satisfied that he had bought the right watch for his friend’s birthday, which was now just a week away.