Never Pull a Rabbit Out Of a Hat

Hutch paced the length of the exam room. He stopped briefly when he reached the wall to glance over at his partner before turning around and resuming his pacing.

Starsky was sat on an exam bed with his shirt off and a young, dark haired female doctor standing in front of him, pulling a blood pressure cuff off his arm. Starsky kept his eyes on the Doctor’s actions, choosing to ignore his pissed off lover. Oh, he knew Hutch was pissed and he knew why.

“Well, your blood pressure is normal as are the rest of your vitals so I’m going to say confidently that you didn’t reinjure anything internally, just a few external stitches.”

Starsky was relieved to hear the news. He’d only been out of the hospital a week, the stay curtsy of a bullet in the back during a hostage situation at an Italian restaurant. He’d been staying with Hutch while he recovered which was a good pretence for the two to spend some…intimate time together. Though kissing and a little groping was all Starsky could handle currently. Neither he expected to get anytime soon.

“How’s the arm?” the doctor asked, gently taking the limb and moving it a little.

“A lot better. I can make a fist now.” He demonstrated by curling is fingers into a weakly clenched ball.

“Excellent.” While the doctor was impressed, Hutch just gave a snort and continued pacing.

“Well, let’s get this wound restitched and get you on your way before your friend wares a hole in the floor.”

Hutch stopped his pacing to glare at the lady. But instead of continuing, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

The doctor pulled a roll away table across the bed and directed Starsky to lean over it after placing a pillow on it to rest his left arm on. She then collected together all the instruments she needed before pealing back the blood soaked bandage on Starsky’s back. She wiped away some of the blood with an antiseptic cloth that made Starsky’s flinch and then picked up a hypodermic.

“Right, first I’m going to numb the area with some Lidocaine. It’ll sting a little, I’m afraid.”

“Not my first rodeo, Sweetheart,” Starsky informed her, keeping his eyes away from Hutch. “Do your worst.”

The doctor injected the numbing agent, which did make Starsky wince and waited until it had taken affect before she began stitching the wound.

Normally, Hutch would be by Starsky’s side, not necessarily holding his hand, but being a supportive presence. Maybe with a hand on his knee, or some other comforting gesture like that, but not this time. Hutch stayed where he was against the wall. His eyes would flicker over to his partner’s now and again, but mainly stayed looking over his head.

Starsky, however, refused to stay silent and tried to make idle chit chat with the doctor, who was more than happy to talk about her family and her ambitions for the future. Hutch ignored them both.

“Okay, all done,” the doctor said as she taped down a fresh, clean patch of gauze over the freshly stitched up wound. “You can get dressed now. Need any help?” She glanced at Hutch as she said it.

“No, I’m sure I’ll manage.” Starsky didn’t look at Hutch, but noticed him push himself away from the wall.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to that and be back in a few minutes.” Once the doctor left, Starsky and Hutch finally locked eyes.

“All right, say it,” Starsky said. “You’re itching to, I know, so just say it.”

“I told you. I told you many times.” Hutch slowly made his way over to Starsky. “I told you that would pop your stitches. Did you listen? No, of course not…”

“Hutch, I’ve been left handed all my life. It’s hard to adjust to using my right hand. I didn’t think, I just acted.”

“I understand it’s difficult and I sympathise, but I warned you…”

“I’ve been bored the last week sitting around watching TV. I needed a distraction. Just a bit of fun.”

“Why didn’t you just stick to the card tricks? Why did you have to try pulling a rabbit out of a hat? For Christ sake, you yanked the damn thing out!”

“It got stuck,” Starsky said lamely. It had started off with just a couple of card tricks. His physical therapist said it was a good idea for both training his right arm and for strengthen up his weak left hand. Then he’d moved on to trying actual magic tricks. Mainly finding coins behind Hutch’s ear and pulling flowers from inside his sling. Hutch had warned him that some of the tricks could be more strenuous, but Starsky had just laughed while jamming a cuddly rabbit into a top hat.

“Look, it was just a couple of stitches, nothing worse. I don’t know why you’re so upset…”

“Upset?” Hutch placed his hands on the edge of the exam. “Do I have to remind you that that bullet was inches away from permanently damaging your left arm or worse paralysing you? What if you had pulled something internal or…” Hutch lowered his head. biting his lip. He didn’t like to think about what could had happened. How bad things could have gotten.

Feeling bad, Starsky tentatively reached out and laid a hand on Hutch’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t realise.” He squeezed Hutch’s shoulder. “No more rabbit tricks, I promise.”

Hutch looked back up. His lip twitched a little. “Look, just be a little more aware of what you’re doing.”

“Okay, hey, how about this. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll give up the magic tricks entirely if you’ll do something for me.”

Hutch stood up straight. “What’s that?”

“Be my straight man.”

“Uh…” Hutch was momentarily speechless. “I am…I mean, I…what?”

“I was going to put on a magic show for Theresa and her boyfriend for when they come to visit next week. But Sammy has been telling me some pretty good jokes so instead I want to put on a comedy show and I want you to be my comedy partner. What do you say?”

“Oh, right, so no magic tricks, just comedy?” Hutch confirmed.

“We’ll make them laugh,” Starsky said, imitating Donald O’Connor.

“If it gets you away from the magic, fine, I’ll do it.”

“Great. Now can you help me get dressed. I need to ring Sammy for more material.”

Hutch rollwed his eyes, smiled and helped Starsky put his shirt on, careful of the new stitches. Starsky was so co-operative he even let Hutch do up the buttons and kept perfectly still while Hutch set his left arm back in the sling.

“Hey Hutch. Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” Hutch said with a sigh.

“Ivana.”

“Ivana who?”

“Ivana kiss you.”

“Starsk, that’s a terrible joke.”

Starsky smiled seductively. “Who said I was joking?”