Bend, Not Break

Anna leaves and Hutch tries something new.

April, 2007.

Anna Akhanatova had gone. Starsky, by now used to dealing with a heartbroken partner, which was just about every time Hutch gave up Starsky for a woman, fed Hutch a dinner of vegetarian pizza and beer, chased it with two shots of whiskey, stripped him to his underwear and tumbled him into bed to sleep it off.

Then next day Hutch awoke with a hangover and Starsky fed him eggs and orange juice, mentally preparing himself for the couple of weeks it would take for Hutch to stop moping and come back to Starsky’s bed.

He always did.

But the weeks grew longer and Hutch quite often had mysterious places to be, without his partner. Starsky grew concerned, but Hutch wouldn’t talk about it. Worries of headshrinkers filled Starsky’s imagination, and one afternoon followed Hutch to see where he went.

By the time he got through two red traffic lights that separated the Torino from the squash, he managed to find the car parked on the street. No sign of Hutch, however, and too many artsy-fartsy type businesses around to make it seem like Starsky had just ‘been in the neighborhood’ if he were to seek his partner out in one of them.

Later that night, after a lonely dinner and an unsatisfying movie on tv, he took himself to Hutch’s without calling first, hoping to catch him home so they could talk.

Knocking once, he let himself in, in time to see Hutch bolt off the floor and into the bedroom.

Was that…?

“Hutch?”

“Get out of here, Starsk!”

“Hutch, are you wearing…tights?”

“Get. Out.”

“Not until you tell me…are those BALLET slippers?”

Hutch glared at him, then appeared to give up.

“Yes. Yes, it is. I was going to surprise you!”

Starsky stared at him. “You succeeded.”

“No! Not with this…well, yes…but no! Ah, hell.”

“Hutch, what is going on?”

Hutch sighed. “Look, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to go through with it…but…I’ve been taking some ballet lessons.”

Starsky sat heavily on the bed. “Why?”

Hutch mumbled something Starsky couldn’t understand, looking away from him and at the floor.

“Come again?”

“I wanted to be more flexible!”

“Flexible…for what?”

Hutch sighed. “Anna…Anna was able to do some…pretty remarkable things…in bed…and I…I wanted to…”

“Hutch, you get any redder and I think you’ll explode. Wanted to WHAT?”

“Iwantedtoshowyousomenewmovesinbedtosaythankyoufortakingcareofmeallthetime!”

Starsky stared some more. “What?”

Hutch glared back. “You know you sound like a duck when you say that?”

“What?”

“Like that. Never mind.”

Starsky blew out a breath. “Ok, blintz. From the beginning.”

Hutch dropped to his knees and crawled to where Starsky sat on the edge of the bed. “How about I show you instead.”

“Oh. OH! Uhh…ok…Damn, Hutch. How do you… how are you DOING that?”

“Flexibility.”

“Got any of those slippers in my size?”

~end

Chapter End Notes:

This is an off the cuff, unbetaed and not likely to be, silly humor piece. You see, Rae was sick, and while trying to say “ballots,” she said “ballets” and that took the conversation to a whole new place…and I ended up with this. It may have helped that I wrote this between laughing out loud at the show “Thank God You’re Here!”