Sleigh Ride

A sleigh ride at a Christmas Tree Farm. Twenty minute fic challenge to use the words: Pine and Close

I make no apology for it being all fluff.

This close to Hutch, Starsky can feel his warmth. This close to Hutch, bundled beside him on a sleigh ride through a Minnesota Christmas Tree farm, Starsky swears he can feel Hutch’s heart beat.

The bells jingle along to the clop clop of draft horse hooves and the other people on the sleigh are chattering with excitement—young families with children, older couples perhaps remembering their own searches for that perfect tree as they sit back with blankets over their laps.

Jessica, Kissy and Frank’s baby, except she’s three as she keeps telling anyone who looks at her, is between them. Her little face is aglow and Hutch keeps adjusting her scarf so that sometimes all Starsky can see is her eyes.

“No.” Jessica tells him and pushes it back down with one red mitten. “No, Unca Ten.”

“You’re gonna get cold,” Hutch says patiently. The battle has been ongoing since they got out the car.

“I not cold.” Jessica looks up at Starsky and holds her arms out. “Unca Day.”

Starsky grins at her and picks her up. He snuggles her next to his chest and the little space that opens is just enough for Hutch to snuggle close too. Hutch gives a look around, wary, as if someone is going to say something. He scoots over and leans against Starsky, knee touching knee, thigh against thigh, his shoulder tight against Starsky’s, the way it used to be when they were both cops, ready to go into danger.

He doesn’t miss the streets nearly as much as he thought he would. Not after those first months of anger and pain, the first year of working out where he fit in still. And here he is—with Hutch on a sleigh ride in Minnesota in December. He’ll graduate from Jameson in May with his degree in history. They already have their plans for the private investigation business—Hutch has all the paperwork started.

But now—now nothing matters as they get off the sleigh, Starsky handing Jessica to Hutch before he attempts the step—he can still be unsteady at times.

Jessica fights to be put down, kicking at Hutch, stubborn as any Hutchinson Starsky’s ever known, and she walks between them. One red mittened hand in his, the other in Hutch’s. They walk slow, and Jessica points out each tree.

“That one, Unca Ten. That one, Unca Day. Pretty.”

“How about this one, Jessie?” Hutch is crouched down by her, and the light snow dusts the green cap he wears. “This one good, honey?”

Jessica nods emphatically. “I cut.”

“I think that’s a job for Uncle Ten,” Starsky says. He picks her up to keep her out of the way while Hutch uses the saw to fell the tree.

They walk back to the drop off site—Hutch dragging the tree, Jessica holding onto Starsky’s hand.

The tree is loaded on the tractor and they get back on the sleigh. Jessica falls asleep, a limp weight against Starsky’s chest. Hutch takes advantage of the moment and the nearly empty sleigh to sit close.

“Having fun?” he asks.

Starsky looks at him. A snowflake is on Hutch’s eyelash and when he blinks, it melts. Hutch smells of snow and pine needles and everything Starsky has ever wanted.

“Always,” Starsky says and leans back into Hutch’s embrace, into a warmth that settles all the way into his heart.