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‘He was free to say or do whatever he wanted … and the one person who he yearned to love, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death and beyond was the one person he couldn’t. The one person who made him really believe in true love for the first time in his deprived existence, in the everlasting… -
“Hutch? I wanna play a game, Hutch.” Author’s notes: Dialogue fic! An experiment to see how far I could take a conversation between Starsky and Hutch and tell a story through their words alone, so to speak. The song I listened to while writing this is Debussy’s Clair de lune. Lovely piano piece! “Hutch? I wanna play a game, Hutch.”… -
‘So there’s this big box of things that Starsky keeps in their wardrobe in the master bedroom. It’s a stainless steel, fire-resistant box with this gold-and-silver padlock and an etching of a galloping, long-maned stallion on its flat cover and Hutch ought to know, he’d bought the damn thing himself at the Long Beach Antique Market in 1985.’ This… -
Hutch stares at Starsky, at his best friend in the whole world, at the man whom he’s been in love with for what seems like forever. He wants Starsky to touch him. Of course he does … but how can Starsky do that if Starsky isn’t here anymore? Author’s notes: The track I listened to while writing this story is ‘Care Package’ from… -
“I love you, Starsky … you know that … you know that, right?” Starsky doesn’t say anything, at all. I admit it, I wrote this just so I could have a Starsky AND Hutch major hurt/comfort fic under my belt. Also, I challenged myself to write each and every part of the story with exactly 300 words, no more, no less.… -
‘It has been almost six months since Starsky’s reinstatement as a BCPD homicide detective, and Hutch is no longer sure how long he can endure this extra-tetchy, morose, antagonistic version of his partner who seems to find a perverse delight in pissing him off for no reason whatsoever. Like Starsky can’t stand his physical presence. Like Starsky wants to drive…