Colorado Springs

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“We have…to remember…to breath sooner. You’re a dangerous man, David Starsky.”

 

This story was originally published in the zine, Venice Place Chronicles IV.

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“Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ve never been to Colorado. Have you been to Colorado?” Starsky asked his partner, barely containing his excitement as he and Hutch waited to board the plane.

“No, I haven’t. But I think the conference is going to keep us pretty busy. We’re not going to have much time to enjoy the place,” Hutch answered, staring at the boarding pass, and conveniently avoiding eye contact with his other half.

Starsky knew his partner hadn’t intended to sound so contrary, but the thought of all that beauty going to waste was ruining Hutch’s normally generous and pleasant springtime mood. Well, except for that one particular Spring two years ago, Hutch usually was beaming like the sun in the spring. Starsky had been unable to convince Hutch that they would find any time for fun on this trip. As always, Hutch knew better and had spent the better part of the last few weeks working himself into the doldrums about the constraints of the conference schedule.

“Hey, we’ll be done by five each day. That’ll leave us at least two hours of daylight for exploring. Don’t you worry, we’ll be getting some nature in, my nature lover.” Starsky raised his eyebrows in a lecherous attempt to tease his partner, and hopefully lighten the bad mood of his blond counterpart. The effort wasn’t wasted, as Hutch, despite himself, let out a snorty laugh.

Hutch lowered his voice, and in a mock-stern tone, replied, “Will you watch what you say? Someone could overhear.”

“Hutch,” Starsky began in his most indulgent manner, “I think the whole world already knows you’re a nature lover.” Starsky was grateful to finally hear the kidding tone from his partner. This mood that Hutch had sustained for over a week leading up to the departure date was wearing Starsky out. He wasn’t in the frame of mind for all the negativity Hutch had oozed recently, and secretly hoped for Dobey to pull the plug on the approval to attend the meeting about psychology and the law. The constant griping about the trip only managed to give Starsky a headache that lasted just about the entire week.

His tenor a little more serious this time, Hutch answered, “You know what I mean.” Hutch knew he’d been overreacting lately. He also knew that Starsky’s patience had been tested to its fullest, yet his partner hadn’t once berated him for the bad disposition he’d recently displayed. If Hutch had really given the whole thing much thought before this moment just prior to boarding, he would have realized that just the scenery on the drive between the meeting facility and the hotel would probably be enough to put him in a much better frame of mind.

As was usual when they were forced to attend one of these meetings, Starsky put on his researcher’s cap and spent endless hours at the library delving into the area. This time, he discovered that Colorado Springs was loaded with many things that Hutch loved; he also knew it was unlikely that his partner would be truly satisfied with any amount of the limited free time they might get to enjoy them. Pike’s Peak, including a cog railroad ride to the 14,110 foot summit, the Garden of the Gods Park, the Manitou cliff dwellings, not to mention driving around and just experiencing the surrounding beauty – ever since Starsky brought all of his research over, Hutch had wished that the conference was being held in downtown Bay City. He may not have said that to his partner, but he had taken an almost joyous, albeit disturbing amusement in making sure Starsky felt his pain.

Feeling guilty about that behavior and not wanting to spoil Starsky’s trip, Hutch made an immediate decision: he would buck up and at least start acting like he was enjoying himself. Besides, any time alone with Starsky away from Bay City always gave them a chance to be more open in showing their affection for one another. Obviously that wouldn’t happen at the conference site, but they had found a small, intimate motel on the other side of town. And their evenings were for themselves, with no real chance of running into people they knew. A golden opportunity, considering the relatively young, transformed aspects of their relationship.

“Okay, Blondie, I’ll keep the innuendo to a minimum, if that’ll make you happy.” Starsky would have promised the blond anything to achieve this new, contented Hutch. He was surprised by the turnabout, but as they were headed to cowboy country he decided he wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth.

“Thanks, buddy. I promise, starting right now, that I’m going to have fun.” Hutch gave Starsky the smile that he had been waiting for all week.

“Look, we’re gettin’ there early today. We should be able to get the cliff dwellings in. Just about everything else we wanna see we can do when the sessions end each day.” Starsky leaned in close to his partner, as if offering a secret. “Then, a nice, not-too-late dinner each night, and then….” Starsky left Hutch to finish the thought as he led his partner onto the plane.

~*~*~

“Wow. This is cool, ain’t it Hutch?” The pair walked through the last chamber, finishing up their tour of the ancient homes of the Anasazi people. Starsky oohed and aahed all the way through, and provided a running commentary along the way. The time at the library hadn’t been wasted: Starsky was able to provide expert knowledge about the Anasazi culture, theories on why many of these dwellings, including the more famous Mesa Verde cliff dwellings farther southwest in Colorado, were abandoned only a short one hundred years after they were built. Starsky continued to display his encyclopedic knowledge of the area, the culture and the reasons for their “disappearance” from the region.

But Starsky was not immune to his partner during his ramblings: Hutch had remained eerily silent through most of the tour. He knew Hutch was experiencing, in his own quiet and thoughtful way, what it must have been like to live this life all those hundreds of years ago. And knowing Hutch as well as he did, Starsky was sure his partner was also thinking about how and why these industrious and noble people abandoned their homes, lost their land, their culture.

Starsky exited first and waited for Hutch to follow him out of the chamber, knowing that he would need to give Hutch some time to recover from his experience at the cliff dwellings. He was certain that before the night was through his partner would want to talk about that experience.

By the time they’d finished their tour of the Manitou Cliff Dwellings and checked into their hotel, Starsky was starving. Hutch picked up the phone.

“What’re you doin’? You’re not ordering room service, are ya? I was hoping we’d get some nice, juicy Colorado steaks. Ooh, or buffalo!”

“Starsk, you need to relax. You’re acting like you just worked a day on the streets instead of enjoying a relaxing walk through ancient ruins.” Hutch sat on the bed cross-legged, as though preparing for a pow-wow. “We’re not in Bay City anymore, Dorothy.” Hutch grinned as he waited for the front desk to pick up.

Starsky grinned back. “Very funny.”

“Hello, yourself,” Hutch said into the telephone. “Do you have a recommendation for dinner? Some place with good steaks, preferably quiet.” Starsky watched as Hutch’s expression changed while the clerk explained the various choices. Starsky could read his partner well after so many years. This time he was able to read when Hutch’s expression meant the clerk had offered a boring restaurant chain, or when the option suggested piqued the interest of the beautiful man before him.

“That sounds perfect. Do you have directions?” Again, Starsky enjoyed the animated conversation and reactions his partner was providing: as enjoyable a view to Starsky as any mountain vista.

“Great. We’ll be down to pick them up. Thanks.”

“Flirt,” Starsky said, grinning widely at his partner as he leaned back precariously in the one chair that adorned their small yet comfortable room.

“What?” Hutch responded in his most innocent manner.

“You know what I mean, Blintz. Don’t bother tryin’ to deny it.” Starsky swiftly and easily let the chair down from the precarious position.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Starsk. I was just being a good listener. Practicing for tomorrow’s session.”

“Yeah, and I just won a million bucks. Come on.” Starsky grabbed for Hutch’s hand. Hutch put his hand out in return, as though the move had been choreographed, and as perfectly as any Balanchine dance move, helped his partner off the queen-sized bed.

As they approached the front desk, Starsky noticed Hutch slow down, and then he put his finger up to his lips as though to keep the clerk from saying anything. Starsky smiled at that…his Hutch had a secret.

“So, where we goin’?” Starsky asked, knowing he was in for a pleasant dose of dodging from his partner.

“You’ll find out.”

Starsky leaned against the counter, and with the charm on full throttle, asked, “Tell me, um,” he paused to check out the young woman’s nametag, “Sherry, where is this big, blond blintz taking me for dinner?”

Sherry giggled at the nickname, and then slyly replied, “I’ll never tell.”

Hutch was pleased with the clerk going along with him in keeping the dinner plans secret and reached over for Sherry’s hand, giving it a gentlemanly kiss. “Thank you, Sherry.”

A smaller shy giggle, and Sherry answered, “You’re welcome, Mr. Hutchinson. You and Mr. Starsky have a nice evening.

“Oh, we will, Sherry,” Hutch replied as he pushed Starsky to the automated sliding glass exit door.

“How come I can’t know where we’re goin’?” Starsky pouted.

“Starsk, haven’t you heard that a little mystery is good for a relationship?”

“Oh, okay, I’ll buy that,” Starsky cheerily agreed. He tossed the keys to Hutch, who proceeded to steer the car south from their hotel and then west, directly towards Pike’s Peak.

“Beautiful, huh?” Starsky asked, relaxed and enjoying the leisurely drive and the comfortable breeze flowing through the windows.

Hutch was minding his driving, but it would have been impossible for him to miss the glorious beauty of Pike’s Peak. The late April date allowed for particularly pretty views, the lower regions of Pike’s Peak greening up nicely, while the higher elevations projected an alpine image, the white caps glistening with the setting sun.

“It is. When we get a chance to drive up the mountain, or take that cog train if it’s open, we probably won’t be able to go all the way to the top.”

That’s okay, Blondie. I betcha there’ll still be some great views.”

“Yep,” was Hutch’s only reply, and Starsky let the sustained silence envelope them in its serenity.

“Hey, Manitou Springs! We passed through there on the way to the cliff dwellings today. Is that where our restaurant is?” Starsky asked, hopeful for a clue from his scheming friend.

“Could be.” Hutch made a right off the highway, and then a left onto El Paso Boulevard. Starsky decided to quit trying to find out where they were going. After many years of working with, playing with, and always loving his partner, he’d certainly learned when he couldn’t break through that Hutchinson stubbornness. This was one of those times.

“Hey, that sign back there said take a right for Garden of the Gods Park. At least we know where it is now,” Starsky commented.

“That’s good. We can head straight over tomorrow, visit the trading post before it closes, and then spend some time in the park. Don’t forget your camera.”

“I won’t. Shoulda brought it tonight. We’ve seen some great views of Pike’s Peak on our way to wherever it is we’re goin’.”

“You’ll get more chances. Ah, here we are.” Hutch stopped fast, almost passing the Craftwood Inn nestled high on a slope, one of the many large hills and mounts that made up the foothills that were the stepping stones to Pike’s Peak.

“Huh, a lodge nestled in the foothills. You romantic, you,” Starsky said, smiling warmly at his partner. He noticed Hutch instantly turn red. He loved how Hutch, despite all other successful attempts to keep his feelings private, and risk someone guessing his true feelings, couldn’t hide the blushing. That beacon of love from his partner made Starsky feel warm all over.

“Your promise didn’t last long. Get out of the car, Starsk.” Shit. Starsky had almost crossed the line on the innuendo thing back when they boarded the plane when he’d mentioned the romantic evenings they would share. He really did it this time, Starsky thought. Was Hutch really mad at him? Nobody was around; it was getting on toward dusk. Had he blown their romantic evening together?

As he came around the back of the car, Starsky was surprised to find Hutch pull him close and kiss him deeply. They had parked in the bottom lot, which was empty save for their car, most of the diners having taken spots on the upper level for the easier walk. Starsky returned the kiss, the tension of what he might have ruined slipping from his thoughts as the romantic in both of them was clearly established well before the first taste of wine.

Hutch relinquished his hold on Starsky’s lips, reluctantly ending the sweet passion his partner so willingly returned. He pulled Starsky’s head close and whispered, “I was playing with you. I’m sorry.” Starsky loved that this man knew him so well, his body language, his moods, when his emotions were at the breaking point. When to say just the right thing to make everything better. Starsky gave Hutch a quick, loving hug and said, “Let’s eat.”

They headed leisurely up the drive, enjoying the views of the foothills and the birdsong all around, the sweet memory of the kiss setting the tone for the rest of their first evening in this beautiful part of the country. Suddenly, Starsky stopped short, with Hutch almost knocking him down. Hutch’s forward, upward climb was halted by Starsky’s body; it took all of his skillful balance to not topple his partner and keep himself from falling down the steep, hard, blacktopped driveway.

“Hey, Hutch, what’s this? This is a great looking plant.”

Hutch shook his head at his partner, the wonder in Starsky’s voice explaining why he’d been so oblivious to the collision, then answered, “It’s a yucca plant.”

“A yucca plant? Sounds like somethin’ the Three Stooges made up.” Starsky laughed.

Hutch shook his head and smiled. “Yeah, you would think that. Yucca. Y-U-C-C-A. They’re pretty common out here. I’ve seen some grow as much as five feet tall. This one’s big.” Starsky could see that Hutch was happily in his element.

“Do they have these back in California?” Starsky asked, glad to see Hutch so relaxed.

“They were mainly a plant of the plains for centuries, but they’ve been cultivated for garden use. They’re probably available most everywhere now.”

“I knew you’d know what it was.” Again, the blushing. This was too easy, Starsky thought, as they made their way into the restaurant.

Their hostess seated them and their waiter, Rob, brought water and took their wine order, leaving them both to marvel over the menu.

“Hutch, look at this! They serve caribou, and elk, wild boar, all kinds of wild game. Buffalo! Blondie, this is great.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Hutch returned, blushing, a bashful smile lighting his fair features.

“Babe, you’re gonna have to stop that. You’re blushing all over the map tonight. People are gonna talk if you act like that at home.”

“I know. I don’t know. I feel…I feel like I’ve been given a week’s pass to do what I want, to feel what I want, to act the way I want. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sure, I understand, but I guess I’m a little surprised. Why the change? I had to practically drag you here. Dobey did have to order you to go. Why the change in tune, not that I don’t prefer this melody.”

Hutch laughed at the metaphor, then began his explanation much more somberly. “I think that seeing the cliff dwellings, knowing that a civilization was just lost like that. I think it brought into focus for me how little time we really have on this earth, whether it’s a culture like the Anasazi or one individual, like me…and you. It just reinforces why you and me, together, is so right. If watching you almost get killed wasn’t proof enough, visiting the cliff dwellings and learning about the Anasazi really brought it home. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so. Going to visit the remnants of their culture, it was a little sad. But I think it also sanctioned the way we’ve chosen to live our lives. Hutch, finally realizing our love was the most naturally beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me. You know that, dontcha?” Starsky reached across the table and squeezed Hutch’s hand, the inn providing the intimate atmosphere they both yearned for outside their homes and so rarely found.

Hutch felt the intense love in Starsky’s face begin to swirl in the candlelight of the room, the tears he was trying desperately to keep in check winning this time. He lowered his head and closed his eyes tightly, taking in the beauty, the truth, of Starsky’s words. “For me too, buddy. But Starsk, our freedom to express our love only extends so far – it certainly doesn’t extend to Bay City when we go back.”

“Not completely, no.” Starsky eased his touch, knowing that the closeness wasn’t helping his partner control his emotions. “I think today taught us both that surviving isn’t always easy. Wasn’t the first time we’ve seen it, huh? For us, we have a chance to make our lives what we want them to be. So maybe we can’t be open about it in public, but we have each other, we have our homes, our bedrooms, where we can work on what we have, be creative about ways to make it better and better, to make it last forever. I think our goal is not to let our environment or our enemies dictate how we live our lives and show our love. But we need, at least for a little while longer, we need to stay resilient, be adaptable, in order to give ourselves the chance that the Anasazi couldn’t manage to give themselves.”

Hutch wondered if love could increase with each passing second. He felt it could at moments like this. But he decided that the serious conversation needed to come to an end. He didn’t want the mood to be like this for too long. Hutch had plans for later that required a more festive demeanor from his partner.

So with tongue in cheek, Hutch said, “And we have a hotel room, too.” They both laughed at that, and became ever more impatient for Rob to return to take their order.

“Um, Hutch, what are you going to eat here?” Starsky being Starsky, he had completely ignored the yucca and cactus salad and the vegetarian entrée on the menu.

“I’ll manage, Starsk. Do you want to try the appetizer sampler?”

Starsky looked slightly confused and then asked, “You’ll eat that?” The appetizer included tantalizingly described offerings of ostrich, buffalo and wild game quesadillas.

“Starsky, I eat hamburgers. I eat those disgusting tacos you like so much, why wouldn’t I eat this?”

“Okay, okay. Let’s get the appetizer.”

Starsky looked around uncomfortably. Hutch, observing the oft seen behavior, said, “Starsk, maybe you ought to get that bladder problem of yours looked at.”

Hutch’s joking smile prevented Starsky from getting mad at his partner. “You’re just a big joke factory today, aren’t you Hutchinson?”

“I try. Um, it’s behind the white wall back there.” Hutch pointed to the wall behind Starsky’s back.

“How’d you…never mind. Order for us, okay? I’ll have the wild boar special.”

“Hurry back.” The slightly nervous nature of the curiously innocent comment almost stopped Starsky in his tracks. On his way passed his partner, Starsky pressed his hand firmly on Hutch’s shoulder, hoping the gesture would calm the blond’s worry. Hutch would forever worry about him going to the restroom, there was no denying it, there was no getting around it, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Hutch did indeed order the vegetarian entrée on the menu. Both enjoyed the fine wine and dining, despite the deep hole it would put in their pockets. Without hesitation, they passed on the coffee and dessert in favor of more satisfying delectations back at the hotel.

“Oh, Hutch, I ate way too much,” Starsky moaned, rubbing at his slightly distended belly. “I can hardly move,” he added, perched on the dresser before one of the two beds in their motel room.

“That’s okay, babe. You don’t have to do much moving. Tonight. I’ll take care of everything tonight.” Hutch edged closer to Starsky and took over the tummy rubbing, eliciting a satisfied groan from his partner. “Why don’t you get out of those clothes and lie down on the bed? You must be uncomfortable in those jeans after all that food, Gordo.” Hutch kept up the easy massage on Starsky’s belly as his other hand sought more tempting regions below the beautiful, yet slightly swollen stomach.

Although Hutch directed Starsky to remove his clothes, he failed to release his lover from his grasp. The belly rubbing continued, as did the delicious fondling of Starsky’s groin through the tight denim. “Hutch, I…”

“I know.” And he did. Just as Starsky felt his grip on reality quaver, Hutch suddenly took his hand away from the hot groin and then roughly pulled his partner into a tight, loving hold, kissing him passionately, madly.

Starsky, his arousal both eased by the removal of the golden hand of his partner and enhanced by the delightful lips now enveloping is own, kissed back. Both men moaned with the excitement of two people in love. Starsky, now managing some magic of his own, worked his hands down Hutch’s slim waist, then down the firm thighs, his hands landing on his partner’s wondrously perfect ass, squeezing it with each attempt to match Hutch’s at first sweet, searching kisses that had suddenly changed to a fevered search for the farthest regions of the brunet’s beautiful mouth.

Hutch again started an easy massage of his lover’s stomach, moving his hands down Starsky’s waist and up his back, working the t-shirt out of the jeans, desiring the touch of skin over cotton.

Their passion for each other was a miracle. It was impossible for either man to have foreseen this change in their relationship just two years prior. Two years. Their lives had been turned upside down in that period of time. Starsky’s near fatal injuries, followed by the agony of his recovery, yet during that time finding their feelings for one another no longer satisfied by the brotherly love that had sustained them throughout the years of their partnership and friendship.

The realization of that passion was not something they were prepared for, although the year between the shooting and the consummation of their love was certainly loaded with unmistakable hints, not the least of which was finally recognizing that their love never really was brotherly after all. It had always been much, much more than that.

That year of recovery and renewal saw them together, always, unless Hutch was working. Hutch’s dedication to his friend’s recovery and reinstatement was unstinting, and through that devotion they found their lives had taken on new meaning for one another. During that time, though Starsky had recovered well from the bullets and the surgeries and the physical therapies, and other therapies, the stress had left one lingering problem: impotence. The doctors had assured him that this was a normal and expected reaction to the trauma he had been through. The doctor also assured him that it was temporary.

That problem was of little consequence to Starsky though, as he had only realized in therapy after the shooting, his interest in women had already begun the downward turn. Therapy also helped him to the understanding of just how deep and meaningful his bond with Hutch really was. Once he and Hutch both made that leap of faith, their future became instantly clear.

Their intimacy was impossible to ignore, their passion something that a near-death experience allowed further exploration of. The consummation of that passion, that love, when it finally happened, left them stunned, mostly a stunning disbelief that they had not previously realized the perfect-ness of them. Together. The sex, at first, was frenzied, though limited, the ultimate consummation coming over a month after their first time. But far more important than the sexual nature of their relationship was the now certain knowledge of their forever love affair. Their hearts, minds and bodies were committed to the other. Forever.

“Hutch,” Starsky gasped, trying to gain his partner’s attention. “Hutch.”

“Mmm,” Hutch barely managed in reply.

“Jeans…Jesus…gotta,” Starsky tried as Hutch continued robbing him of his ability to speak. “Hutch…need to…need you.” Starsky was only able to get out short utterances, fighting Hutch’s talented tongue each time for a word or a breath.

“Let me help,” Hutch finally said, giving them both a chance for some much needed oxygen.

They worked feverishly to remove the unwanted clothing, Hutch pushing his partner back toward the bed and making easy inroads in disrobing his overly clothed lover. The kissing resumed, Hutch masterfully continuing to ravish Starsky’s swollen lips as he ripped the bedspread back, finally easing his lover onto the bed.

“Ready…when you are…babe.” Starsky was happy to allow Hutch to take the lead this night. Their lovemaking was something they each found continuous joy and wonder in, and were still finding new and exciting ways to please each other. But sometimes, this night being one of those times, they would remember back to their first time, the simple pleasures of those first, affectionate, tentative, incredible moments of love. The first time acting on those feelings that had become so different, yet somehow the same, confusing, yet wonderful, frightening but oh so perfectly right.

Of course, the reenactment of that amazing night was always a little different: more impassioned, if that was possible, certainly more experienced. That experience made the lovemaking different, but the simplicity of what they would do together that night made the expectation that much more exhilarating.

Hutch made his move, redirecting the kissing from Starsky’s mouth and moving, painstakingly slowing in Starsky’s judgment, to other parts of his lover’s lean body. A slight nibble on the ear, followed by slow and easy light kisses at the nape of Starsky’s neck, led to concentrated efforts over Starsky’s muscled and now glistening chest.

Here, Hutch slowed even further his southbound movement to spend extra time, sucking his partner’s nipples while using his tongue in clever and tantalizing ways. Starsky’s excited breathing and moans of pleasure encouraging him, Hutch spent lingering, selfish moments around that glorious chest, licking his way between the two nubs, feeling them firm up at his teasing touch.

The sucking continued, though Hutch made known his immediate intent as Starsky felt his penis in Hutch’s warm and gentle hand. Hutch slowly massaged the organ, yet he was still not through with his partner’s upper torso. Starsky began to feel the beautiful torture of his partner’s split decision – to stay or to proceed – Hutch choosing both options and driving his lover crazy.

Starsky was now more than ready for that mouth to work a new angle. Hutch, sensing his partner’s pending explosion, made haste to do just that.

“Easy, easy,” Hutch said to his lover, finally releasing the firm, obviously tender nipples, headed up for another deeply sweet and sustained exploration of Starsky’s delicious mouth before changing his bearing and heading down to explore that other angle.

Hutch eased down the bed, stopping along the way to enjoy the taste of his lover’s stomach, his hips and thighs, then finally moving to his El Dorado. Hutch took the firm, weeping penis in his mouth. Starsky writhed at the first sensation; he doubted he would ever get used to the thrill of their lovemaking. It surprised him each time they made love, and he marveled that through all of the years of their partnership and friendship that there might not have been this wonderful part of their relationship explored. No discovery in their lives had ever been so sweet.

The mouth that had done such incredible work on Starsky’s upper body now worked its magic in a different place. “Ah, Hutch, love you so much…don’t wanna let go.”

“I’m still here, lover,” Hutch assured, pausing briefly in his determined efforts to please his partner, the man who was his heart and soul.

Starsky reluctantly let go of the beautiful blond’s back to allow Hutch to begin what Starsky had been waiting so patiently for. As Hutch continued the intense licking, he also provided his partner with near ecstasy with the soft squeezing of Starsky’s testicles.

“Aaah, God, Hutch!” Starsky bucked suddenly, the twin stimulants almost doing him in.

No response was expected from his other half, Hutch still preoccupied with the occupation of his mouth by Starsky’s enormous erection. Hutch kneaded the balls now with the same, slow rhythm as the licking, knowing from Starsky’s increased breathing and only barely restrained thrusting that he was surely making his partner’s head spin with pleasure.

The beauty of that first feeling of Hutch’s mouth on his throbbing organ turned to fantastic torture as the gifted tongue slowly licked the length of Starsky’s penis, starting with a feather light touch at the tip, with long, strong and deep attacks up and down the extension.

Starsky was prepared, and knew the end of this incredible journey was near, as Hutch started sucking sweetly, nipping carefully at the tip. Hutch, too, was readying for the finale, preparing to take in the wonderful uniqueness of his lover.

The end came as it always did, an extraordinary exaltation of their love.

Hutch made his way back up to his partner’s side.

“You okay?” Hutch asked, concerned that Starsky was breathing so heavily, more heavily than normal after making love. It was labored breathing, really, and eerily reminiscent of some painful times during Starsky’s recovery.

“Yeah. I think…the altitude’s…gettin’…to me.” Starsky’s return to full active duty happened about a year before, but he had been warned by his doctors about certain severe conditions where his body might not react the same as it had prior to the shooting.

“Breathe, babe,” Hutch coached, the concern evident in his voice and his face. “Take easy, long breaths.” Hutch watched as Starsky struggled to get a good breath. “Here, let me sit you up, it’ll help.” Hutch helped his ailing partner, propping a pillow between his legs and pulling Starsky up against his chest.

“Can’t…believe this…Shit!”

“It’s okay, buddy. Take it easy.”

Starsky’s head was resting against the pillow, taking gulps of breath, as Hutch held one hand tight against his partner’s chest, while lightly running his fingers through Starsky’s head of curls with the other. The soothing action seemed to have the calming, restorative effect Hutch had hoped it would. Starsky’s breathing finally seemed to be reasonably normal.

It was a disconcerting five minutes for both of them.

“Better?” Hutch asked, feeling the tension ease out of his partner as Starsky’s body became more lax in his lap with the easier breathing.

“Mm hmm. Sorry ’bout that.”

“Ssh,” Hutch said, kissing the curly head in front of him, the loving hold still firm about his partner. “It’s been a long day. How about we hit the sack?”

Starsky was already half asleep. Hutch received no response and proceeded to ease out from under his soon to be snoring lover. He laid on his side, pulling Starsky into a tight cocoon, both men face-to-face, Hutch laying light kisses on his partner’s slightly damp forehead.

“Your turn t’morrow,” Starsky slurred as he nuzzled his head deep into the crook of his partner’s neck.

“We’ll see,” Hutch lovingly replied. He kissed Starsky’s now perfectly positioned ear before closing his eyes. He spent long, quiet minutes listening to his partner’s breathing until, satisfied, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

~*~*~

Hutch woke to hear the shower running, a little disappointed that Starsky hadn’t waited for him. Hutch recognized that his partner might be feeling embarrassed about what happened the previous night. They liked to share the giving and receiving of their gifts of love. Hutch understood why his partner might feel that way when his post-Gunther body failed on duty or in front of strangers, but Starsky’s reaction always bothered him when it was just them.

“‘Mornin’, Blondie,” Starsky said as he continued toweling his hair. He leaned down to Hutch and they shared a long, sweet, too passionate for that-time-of-the-morning kiss. “Sorry about last night.”

“Starsk, you said that all ready. Last night was fine. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

Starsky was clearly not interested in pursuing this discussion. “Hop in the shower. We should have time for a quick breakfast before we have to be at the conference center.”

The instructor was fast approaching Starsky’s limit for needing a break, and Hutch was at the ready to nudge his partner lest he begin snoring. The information that was provided in the first morning session had been dull – most cops with common sense would have already mastered the methods covered that morning in relation to dealing with suspects. Hutch realized they were in for some elementary sessions the next few days. He also realized that Dobey had been misinformed about the advanced nature of the conference.

There was little to be done about that now, so Hutch decided to make the most of it and gather as much information as possible to bring back for the department. The material could definitely be used in some of the training at the academy, and probably for a refresher course for some cops he knew who couldn’t manage a decent word for any suspect, whether they proved to be guilty or innocent.

Besides, if he told Dobey now that the material was basically a “Dealing with Suspects 101” class, their captain would surely demand that they check out and head back to Bay City, thereby ruining the chance for Hutch and his partner to enjoy some quiet time together. What Dobey didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The instructor called for a break, and Starsky stood up, and stretching, said, “Finally,” through a wide open yawn. He leaned over and whispered to his partner, “Man, I could use a nap. This instructor is booooring.”

Hutch agreed. “And what he’s presenting, it’s pretty obvious. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll end early today.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty simple stuff, really. His pace ain’t bad, but it’s all old hat, ya know?”

“I can’t see him going much past four today.” Hutch answered.

“From your mouth to God’s ears, babe. I’m gonna hit the john. Meet ya outside.”

“You bet. I’ll grab you a coffee. I think you need it, sleepyhead.”

“Maybe some uppers would be better,” Starsky cracked, the fatigue in his voice not at all hidden from Hutch. Hutch watched as his partner headed to the men’s room, worry again making an unwelcome appearance.

The morning dragged on for the two men. They participated in the workshops like the good detectives they were, hiding their utter boredom fairly well. Lunch was average, at best, and Starsky noted that Hutch was going to have to come up with something really special later for dinner – not that he expected anything to top the incredible dinner they had enjoyed the previous evening. But something had to be done to wipe all remembrance of that bland lunch from their memory.

“I don’t know, buddy. I think it’s your turn to pick. I know you researched the thing most near and dear to your heart: food.”

“I’m hurt, Hutch. Food isn’t the thing most near and dear to me. But now that you mention it, yeah, I did a little research on some of the native cuisine. But I didn’t find the Craftwood Inn. You did.”

“You just don’t remember seeing it during all your hard work at the library. Probably crossed it off the list right away because of the price. We can’t afford a place like that every night,” noted the blond, despite how much Hutch wanted to take his partner back to the hidden treasure in the foothills.

“I know. Hey, there’s gotta be a good place for a pizza. Every town has pizza that it’s known for.”

Hutch stared at his partner, wondering what it was about someone who could enjoy the gourmet offerings of the Craftwood one night, but still have a passion for pizza and enchiladas the very next day.

“Okay. Works for me. Pizza will be fast, which means we can get a lot more sight-seeing in tonight.”

“And other pursuits.” Starsky looked slightly embarrassed, the image of last night’s misstep fleeting through his mind. Before he or Hutch could say anything about that reaction, Starsky’s stomach growled. They both laughed at the loud gurgling. “I may need a candy bar to tide me over til dinner. That lunch was barely palatable.” The look of disdain on his face made Hutch laugh.

“We’ll go on a search and destroy mission at the break for a candy bar.”

“We may need to split up to get the job done faster.” They headed back to the meeting room for another few tedious hours.

~*~*~

“That was awful. I don’t think I’ve ever learned less in my life.” Starsky complained as they exited the car at the trading post at Garden of the Gods Park.

“You fell asleep, Starsk. That’s understandable.”

“I’m gonna have a bruise, ya know. Did ya have to kick so hard?” Starsky feigned a limp, the pretend injury from Hutch constantly knocking the outer part of his lower left leg really was tender despite the joking.

“You snored. I had to do whatever I could to make you stop. It worked.”

“You couldn’t have just shoved my arm or somethin’?”

“I did. It didn’t work.”

“Hm. Must have been tired. Or BORED.” The certainty of the real reason for his sleepiness clear in Starsky’s mind, despite Hutch’s belief that his partner was denying how tired he really was.

Hutch smiled an indulgent smile and followed his partner into the store. The partners perused the aisles, finding some truly beautiful things: a couple of blankets that Hutch really liked, and a clay pot that Starsky could add to his collection. The assorted pots he had begun to collect as a lark on the Acapulco cruise they worked undercover several years ago had expanded to include pottery from a number of different countries now. It was a lovely collection that Hutch admired greatly. Starsky’s eye for beautiful things was far more impressive than many people realized. Hutch looked forward to the day when they could enjoy a home together, their beautiful things conjoined the same as their souls already were.

“Are you gettin’ anything, Hutch?” Starsky asked hopefully, his partner’s purchase a hopeful sign that Starsky’s eyeing of the swirl-designed teal green and orangey-peach pot was not in vain.

Hutch laughed at his partner. “Starsk, you don’t have to ask my permission to buy anything. You’re a big, boy. Even have your own bank account.”

Starsky gave him a dirty look. “You know what I mean. We’re tryin’ to save for a house. I didn’t want you to think I was wastin’ money, that’s all.”

Hutch smiled and said, “That pot wouldn’t be a waste, Starsk. It’s beautiful.”

“What pot?” Starsky asked, trying to pretend that he didn’t have his eyes on it the whole time.

“I’m not blind.” Not about the pot, anyway. “I saw you walk passed it a couple of times. Go ahead and get it.” Hutch wasn’t blind about when his partner really wanted something. That would be hard to miss. Starsky projected his feelings like a movie at a drive in theatre when he really wanted something. He was a pretty open book in many ways. There were still parts of his earlier life that he only shared with Hutch, but since adulthood Starsky had prided himself on being open and honest with most people, unless he was trying to catch a criminal. Then all bets were off.

Hutch thought about what life would be like if he really was blind and had never seen Starsky with his eyes, only experienced him with his other senses. Even if he was blind, Hutch thought, he would still love this man. Starsky’s beauty went well beyond mere physical features.

Hutch must have daydreamed for longer than he thought, because consciousness awoke to his partner irritatingly snapping his fingers in front of his eyes.

“Cut it out,” Hutch replied, noting that the pot was now in Starsky’s left hand.

“Fine. Stop fallin’ asleep on me in broad daylight.”

“Buy the pot, Starsk. It’ll be a nice addition to your collection.”

“Are you going to get one of those blankets?”

“Yeah, I think I am. It’s kind of bulky, though. I think I’ll see if they’ll send it back for me. What about you?”

“Nah, I think I’ll take mine with. It’s not that big, and I’d feel better about it if I didn’t have this vision of the box showin’ up sounding like Godzilla had stomped on it. If I keep my eye on it, it might remain one beautiful piece of art instead of bits of art.”

“Godzilla? Not Rodan?”

“Whoever.”

“Okay. Your choice.” They quickly finalized their purchases, securing Starsky’s in the trunk of the car.

“Where should we start, nature-boy?” Starsky asked.

“Well, based on your research, we could start back a ways at the Balanced Rock. Or we can just drive ’til we see someplace we find interesting.”

“Let’s go back to Balanced Rock later, just before we leave. I think the light will be really neat there in about an hour or so.”

“You got it, buddy.” They hopped in the car and drove a short distance to a parking area.

“Hey, look there.” Hutch pointed down a path, between two towering monoliths. “I think there’s a meadow down there between those two spires.” Hutch jumped out of the car, excited about the views down in the miniature valley.

Starsky took great pleasure in following his partner down the path. It was a beautiful spring evening, the warm seventy-five degree temperature of the daytime lingering through the early evening hours approaching dusk. It was a perfect night for photography, for sure. But it was really a perfect night for Hutch.

Hutch was an outdoorsman, there was no doubt. Living in southern California, and becoming a detective had put a bit of a damper on his opportunities to enjoy the outdoors. Yes, the Bay City climate allowed for spending more time out of doors for more of the year than many other parts of the country. But Starsky knew his partner yearned for more time in real wilderness, not just outside. Starsky had never been a huge fan of some of the activities Hutch enjoyed so much: hiking, fishing, relaxing in a secluded cabin. Starsky could see how much this trip had relaxed Hutch and he vowed to himself, but really to Hutch, that when they returned to Bay City they would start taking some weekends to get away to experience nature. And enjoy one another away from questioning eyes.

“Look at that bird,” Hutch whispered to his partner, who barely heard the directive from his soft-spoken partner. “Look at him just sitting there on that rock.”

Hutch continued to watch in amazement at the dark gray-blue bird with the much darker, long tail feathers. “What do you suppose that bird is? Starsk?” Hutch asked his partner, and, getting no response, turned to find Starsky a few yards back, taking the camera down from just taking a shot of something.

“What’d you get? Did you get the bird?” Hutch curiously asked.

“Sorta.”

“Sorta. What’s that mean?”

“You’ll find out when I get it developed.

“Now who’s keeping secrets,” Hutch asked, looking back to find the bird had flown away. Slight regret mixed with peaceful satisfaction washed over Hutch’s face.

“You wouldn’t want me any other way, admit it, Blintz.” Starsky walked toward his partner, flinging the camera easily to his left, the strap secure around his neck, and pulled Hutch into an affectionate hug. “Come on, admit it,” he implored, a smile as large as the Grand Canyon lighting his handsome face.

Hutch had already scanned the area, which he suspected his partner had done as well. He returned the hug and took Starsky’s lips in a fevered kiss, as long and breathtaking as the mountain vistas surrounding them. Starsky was happy to return the favor, their tongues waging a wild battle for superiority, neither willing, for long, hot, unquenchable moments, to give in to the other.

They finally released each others lips, together, both panting for breath in the high Colorado Springs altitude.

“Wow, don’t do that,” Hutch struggled, gulping for a good taste of much needed air.

“Me?” Starsky asked, also looking for some of that clean Colorado air. “You…started it.”

“Next time,” Hutch began again, still breathing heavily, “We have…to remember…to breath sooner. You’re a dangerous man, David Starsky.”

“And that’s news to you, lover-boy?” Starsky smiled, his breathing, like his partner’s, back to a normal level.

“Guess not. I just have to remember that you could be dangerous to my health in high altitudes.” Hutch smiled and then gave Starsky a deep, sweet, ‘that’s enough for now or I’m in big trouble’ kiss.

Starsky let Hutch back away from this kiss and said, “Hey, let’s head through that pass and see what’s to see on the other side.”

They continued to enjoy the pretty evening as the sun began to set around them. The large, red, sandstone monoliths that sprinkled the park were a dramatic backdrop for the smaller boulders, plant life and wildlife that entertained the two during their almost two hours wandering the park’s beauty. The setting sun provided some amazing color to go along with the natural beauty of the park, which on its own would be a spectacular place, but the splendor was made even more breathtaking by the splendid Pike’s Peak in the distance.

A tired but happy Starsky and Hutch headed to their car for the drive back to Balanced Rock where they would use the last of Starsky’s current roll of film, and then head for a pizza and a few beers before retiring to the motel for the evening. Starsky noticed two women getting out of their cars and said, “Kind late to be starting a walk, ain’t it?” the worry and suspicion filtering into his voice.

“Maybe. They seem to know the place. Their car has Colorado tags, they’re probably locals. Something wrong?”

“Nah, I guess not. You’re right, they know what they’re doing. Let’s get some food, Hutch.”

Starsky didn’t look convinced by his own words, and Hutch, knowing his partner would worry about it the rest of the night, said, “Look, why don’t we hang out here for a bit, make sure nobody follows them. Will that make you feel better?”

Starsky laughed, and then said, “You know me too well. Yeah, do ya mind?”

Hutch put his arm out and squeezed Starsky’s shoulder, the warmth and affection that Starsky had relied on now for so many years coming through with that one touch. It was a simple gesture, but it said so much, it comforted so deep. Starsky felt the tension in his neck begin to melt away at the moment of that tender contact.

“Of course we’ll stay. It’s nice sitting here watching the sunset. It’ll be dark pretty fast with these large boulders and the mountain casting shadows. Might be able to get in some good necking while we wait.”

“With who?” Starsky kidded.

“I don’t know. Thought maybe this tall, dark, curly-headed thing I’ve had my eye on might be interested.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s not that kinda guy.” Starsky teased again, buttoning his shirt up tight to his neck.

“Oh. I guess I could have misread the signals, but I don’t think so. They were awful powerful. This guy seemed to know what he wanted.” Hutch scooted across the bench seat of the rental car, jamming his partner up against the passenger-side door. He reached over with his left hand and undid the buttons Starsky had just finished doing up.

“Well, I…I don’t know, Mr. Hutchinson. I suppose it would be okay to try…what are we going to try exactly?” Starsky asked, Hutch’s tongue now licking his neck, his mouth applying feather-light kisses from the back of Starsky’s left ear, down his neck and across his chest.

“A little of this,” Hutch said, biting firmly but teasingly at his lover’s ear, “and maybe some of this,” Hutch continued, taking his tongue deeply into Starsky’s ear, “and definitely some of this.” Hutch trailed his tongue from the ear, slowly tasting and kissing his way to the luscious lips of his partner, Hutch’s tongue working its way into the closed, jokingly chaste lips of his lover.

“I don…,” Starsky began, but was unable to finish now that the mouth of the beautiful blond in his lap had made itself comfortable over and in his own.

Until this point, Starsky was happy to play along, but the teasing from his partner was threatening to cause more trouble in that car than he thought either of them willing to deal with. The parking lot was a public lot, and there were some cars still parked there, hikers and walkers would be returning to those vehicles shortly. Even with the darkening skies, the reds and the pinks in the western sky allowed just enough light to see inside the cars, if anyone cared to try.

Starsky pulled away from his lover’s hold and said, “Hutch, we should wait. We’re on stakeout, remember?”

Hutch kissed the lips again, and then again worked his way up and down the neck. “Don’t wanna stop. Love you too much.”

Starsky let Hutch continue a little longer. He didn’t want to stop, either. Hutch’s lips tantalized every time, whenever, and wherever they probed Starsky’s willing body. Who in their right mind would want to stop that?

But Starsky’s worry was two-fold now: he worried about peering eyes, but he also worried about his ability to control his slowly growing erection. He knew they wouldn’t be able to finish what they started here; he just needed to convince his talented partner that it would be better to hold that thought, so to speak, until they had more private surroundings and more freedom to express what Hutch had thus far so eloquently articulated.

Starsky’s vision was turning fuzzy with delight at what his clever partner was doing to his neck, but they focused just enough just in time to see the two girls heading back from their walk.

“Hutch,” Starsky started, pushing back from his partner, pushing away apparently the only way to get the attention of his distracted and distracting partner.

“What?” Hutch asked, the look of disappointment on his face enough to start Starsky laughing. He held up on the laugh, though, and tilted his head to the right, indicating to his partner that he should take a look for himself.

Hutch scanned the view to the right and saw the girls heading back from their walk and toward their car. “Ah, so we can go now, right?”

“You could give a person whiplash, ya know that?” Starsky asked, amazed at how quickly his partner had forgotten the object of his desires and, in just seconds, had the car started and moving out of the park.

“I’ve got incentive to get out of here, despite the beauty surrounding us, get some food in you, and then get you home.” The lost boy look on Starsky face now set Hutch to laughing. “Paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they buddy?” The smile didn’t remain far from Hutch’s face for the rest of the night.

~*~*~

“Jeez, I can’t believe we’re back here,” Starsky said, the whine beginning to grate on Hutch’s nerves. Ever since they rolled out of each other’s arms that morning, Starsky had complained about going back to the conference for more of the boring instructor’s boring material. This time Hutch was pretty sure he wouldn’t wake Starsky up should he fall asleep in class.

“Mm,” was the blond’s only reply, hoping that, like a fever, if he starved the beast of any nourishment, it would just go away. No such luck.

“How could Dobey make us go to this thing? Does he really think so little of us? Does he think we’re rookies?” Starsky asked, indignant.

Hutch continued to disregard his partner. His only hope of succeeding in ignoring Starsky was if the class started on time. The fact that he was obviously trying to read the newspaper, while at the same time avoid responding to Starsky’s complaints, seemed completely lost on Starsky.

“Hutch, did ya hear me? Hutch?” He reached over and pulled the newspaper away from Hutch’s eyes.

“Do you mind?” Hutch asked.

“Well. Yeah. I asked you a question.” The look of confusion on Starsky’s face almost too cute for Hutch to ignore. But like a new puppy, Starsky couldn’t get all the attention all of the time: Hutch wouldn’t want to spoil him…at least not that way. He’d have a monster on his hands if he let Starsky continue like this.

“And I was reading the paper.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothin’ in the paper.”

“Starsky, how would you know that?”

“I dunno. If there was somethin’ important it would have been on the front page.” He pulled the front page out from the bottom of Hutch’s messy stack of newsprint. “See, nothin’ important. The big headline is ‘Last Day for Mayors to Register’. Can’t be a very big news day if the lead story is the last day for would-be mayors to register as candidates.”

Hutch knew he’d been found out. He folded up the paper, slowly, deliberately, waiting impatiently for the instructor to begin the class. He couldn’t believe it – he actually wanted this terrible class to start again. His partner was actually driving him insane.

The instructor walked in. “Okay, let’s get started.” Hutch looked up, thanking whoever wanted to take credit for the good fortune of the instructor’s timing. Then he looked toward his partner. The look on that face was priceless. You could tell Starsky wasn’t working undercover at that moment. The look of disdain was there for all to see. And his body language said the rest, as he pulled the chair out, the metal legs screeching along the linoleum floor, plopping his body hard into it, his legs splayed under the desk, the rest of his body one huge slouch, as ready as he would ever be to start another day of “let’s see who can stay awake’.”

“Only eight hours ’til five o’clock, Starsk,” Hutch commented. The look he received from Starsky was usually reserved for criminals, or IA. Hutch snorted softly, which earned him another scowl from his partner.

“Let the games begin,” Starsky said dejectedly.

~*~*~

“Wow, the pace has really picked up today. Do you think somebody said somethin’?” Starsky asked, much more chipper than he appeared during the previous day’s session.

“Could be.”

“It’s almost time for our afternoon break. Can’t believe how today just flew by.”

Hutch leaned over, and in a voice so hushed only Starsky could hear, said “Could be that rain dance you did this morning in the shower. You had some mighty mean moves in there. Can’t imagine why any god would deny you anything after that performance.”

“Would ya like a repeat presentation tonight, Blondie?” Starsky asked, their heads almost touching during the suggestive conversation.

“Do you think you’re up for it?”

“I think that could be arranged.”

The day that had flown by for both of them suddenly felt like it was stuck in molasses. The anticipation of events later that evening, and the excitement of maybe getting out earlier than expected made the next couple of hours drag in comparison to the morning and early afternoon.

But luck was in their favor that day, as the instructor finished up his presentation at four o’clock sharp. Starsky and Hutch took advantage of the early finish, and headed out quickly to drive up the Pike’s Peak highway.

It was another beautiful day in Colorado Springs, the afternoon temperatures for the second day in a row topping out in the mid-seventies. The clearest day of the three days they had been in Colorado, they were looking forward to the slow ascent of one of the highest roads in the world, anticipating great views along the way. They knew they wouldn’t be able to drive all the way to the summit, or probably even halfway due to recent snowfall, but they decided they would do what they could, if only to get some nice vistas for Starsky to photograph.

“Let’s stop at the Manitou Springs depot.”

“Why do you want to stop there? There’s no trains this late, we already checked, for the twentieth time.” Hutch asked, knowing the answer but wanting the forever child in Starsky to admit it out loud.

“Wasn’t twenty times, Hutch,” Starsky countered sadly.

“So what’s to see?” Hutch asked again, dangling the bait once again.

“Well, because there’s…because I…because it’s historic.”

“Because it’s historic? What’s historic about it?”

Starsky knew that he’d been caught this time. He did remember reading in passing about the depot, and why it might have been historic. But he, like most kids his age or younger, or older he hoped, loved the trains themselves. The depot was nice, and important, he knew, but he really wanted to see the train cars.

Unexpectedly caught without an answer, Starsky laughed, slightly embarrassed, and put his head down, and then looked over at his partner, mischief written all over him. Hutch shook his head. He would indulge the child in Starsky every time if it was the guarantee it seemed in coaxing that look from his partner more often.

They pulled into the depot at about five-thirty, parked the car and headed over to the ticket window. Starsky had convinced Hutch that they might be sending a train up that night, and wouldn’t it be a shame if they did and he and Hutch were right there and didn’t know about it. Hutch realized that in his current frame of mind Starsky could be a very dangerous man…he could talk Hutch into just about anything at just the right moment. Hutch shivered at the thought.

“You cold, Blondie?” Starsky asked, looking at his partner with concern. “Want me to go back to the car and get your jacket?”

“I’m not cold, buddy. Let’s see what the crowd’s all about.”

As they were parking the car, Starsky and Hutch noticed a small crowd gathered down near the tracks. There was no train there, but it looked like about fifteen people were hanging around waiting for one. Could Starsky have been right about the unscheduled voyage up the mountain?

Starsky reached the crowd first and asked, “What’s goin’ on?”

A park ranger standing nearby answered, “New train’s going on a test ride. Everybody’s waiting to get a glimpse of her.”

“New, huh?” the curly-headed man-child asked excitedly.

“Yep. All tuned up and polished and ready for a trial run. They do a couple of dry runs before doing a week’s worth of test runs, and then if there’s no complication she’ll be added to the rotation at the beginning of the month.” The park ranger seemed well versed in the goings on at the railway.

“So, no passengers tonight, huh?” Starsky asked, no real hope in his tone of voice.

“Nope. Sorry.”

“We were hoping for a ride, too, son,” an older man said, hugging his wife.

“Yeah, my partner and me, we knew the schedule, but figured we’d give it a try by stopping by anyway.” Starsky said to the man.

“We’re visiting from Tucson, staying with our daughter. We left a little later than we should have from her place outside of Denver and just missed the last afternoon train.” The older lady noted, finding a sympathetic ear in Starsky.

“The trains are on a limited schedule until later in the season,” Starsky responded wistfully.

“Did you come far?” the woman asked. Hutch watched with interest as Starsky continued the conversation with the older couple.

“We’ve been here since Sunday, but my partner over there,” he said, pointing to Hutch, who waved hello to the couple, “he and I have been in a meeting all week. It’s a shame to waste such nice weather inside.”

“Oh, it’s been great here for our entire trip,” the man said. “I’m Herb Anderson,” he said, offering his hand to Starsky, who shook it warmly. “This is my wife, Ellen.”

“Glad to meet you both. I’m Dave Starsky, and that big blond over there is my partner, Ken Hutchinson.” Hutch jumped from his seated position on a nearby rail to shake their hands. “We’re here for a police convention. We’re detectives from California.”

“Really? How interesting. You must be having a time of it with the altitude. You’re at sea level out there, aren’t you?” Herb asked. “Ellen and I have learned from experience to take it easy while visiting the mountains. We’re about at the same level here as in Denver. They don’t call it the Mile High City for nothin’. It’s okay. Just gotta ease yourself in to being active.”

“Guess so,” was all Starsky said, looking toward his partner, who threw him a loving wink.

“Ranger Dave here says it should just be a few more minutes before the new car comes out. We’ll stay here until they bring her out, and then we’re heading up the mountain. Ellen here has packed up a nice picnic dinner.” Herb reached for his wife and kissed her gently on the forehead.

“Oh, stop showin’ off, Herb,” she laughed, Starsky and Hutch watching with pleasure the older couple enjoying one another. Their eyes met and they found each other smiling a knowing smile. They could see themselves that happy at seventy.

“Here, sweetie, get a picture of me with these two California cops. It’s okay if I call ya cops, right?” Herb asked, only mildly concerned that he may have made a faux pas.

“As my partner has been known to say, “You can call me anything you like, just don’t call me late for dinner,” Hutch jokingly replied, leaving his partner looking nothing less than the poor, abused member of the duo. Herb and Ellen laughed, both at Hutch’s remark and Starsky’s reaction to it.

Ellen placed her overflowing canvas tote bag on the ground and started to focus the camera when from out of a group of teenagers standing just a few feet away, a teenager darter over, pushed Ellen to the ground, grabbed the tote and dashed up the tracks.

Herb ran to his wife’s side, far more concerned for her well being than for anything that might be of importance in the tote bag. Ellen was yelling, though, for her husband to get the bag.

“Herb, all our money’s in that bag. You have to get the bag,” Ellen cried. She held her left hand gingerly in her right, the hand buffering her fall to the hard pavement, and possibly breaking with the effort.

Starsky, realizing what had happened, started up the tracks as well.

“Starsky, don’t,” was all Hutch got out, but he knew any attempts to call his partner back now would be in vein. “Ranger Dave,” Hutch pleaded as he headed for the tracks as well.

“Right on it, Detective,” he replied as Hutch tore up the tracks in an attempt to catch up with the suspect and his partner.

“Station two, this is Depot station, do you read?” Ranger Dave said into his walkie-talkie.

“Yeah, Depot Station. What can I do ya for, Davie?”

“Bill, I need you to be on the look out for a guy with a tote bag and two guys chasing him. The guy with the tote stole it from a lady down here at the depot, and the two guys are off duty cops from California.”

“Okee dokee. We’ll grab ‘im, Davie.”

“Bill, you’ll want to have the O2 handy. I don’t know about our thief, but those cops are gonna need a lungful, or two, of the good stuff once they finish this little jog.” Ranger Dave was grateful for the assist, but he knew that what the two sea-level detectives were doing at that moment would cost them. He was far less concerned about the perpetrator, although it was an equal opportunity oxygen tank the Park Service provided.

Just about a half an hour later, Ranger Bill drove into the depot parking lot, positioning his vehicle in the fire zone in front of the ticket booth. Starsky and Hutch got out of the Jeep, while the purse-snatcher stayed in the back seat, handcuffed.

“Everybody okay?” Ranger Dave asked, out of concern for the two heroes. Ranger Bill had called back saying that Starsky and Hutch had captured the bad guy, tote in hand. A few whiffs each of pure oxygen and the two detectives seemed little worse for the wear, although the dark haired one gave Bill a bit of a fright at first. His fears were soon assuaged by the calming effect the blond one had on his darker partner. Both detectives were fine, though. Tired, but fine.

“Fine,” Starsky said, as he walked up to Ellen, tote bag in hand. Ellen shortened the journey, running to Starsky and giving him what he was sure was the biggest hug west of the Mississippi, save for the hugs of his own partner, of course. Ellen squeezed hard, her stifled cries all that Starsky could hear just then. He held her tight, then let go and said, “Your bag, ma’am.”

“Stop, that,” Ellen said, slapping Starsky playfully in the chest. As grateful as she was that Starsky had returned her bag, she had to check to make sure everything was in order. Quickly satisfied by her brief inspection, Ellen looked first to Starsky, and then to Hutch.

“How can I ever thank you?” she asked, her husband, equally grateful, now tight at her side.

“No thanks necessary. It was our pleasure to help.” Hutch looked at Starsky as he replied to Ellen’s query. His partner was dead on his feet, the days at high altitude, combined with today’s over-exertion, had done its job in wiping out his normally energetic partner, even post-Gunther. But that didn’t stop Starsky from exuding the same level of charm, despite his tired state.

“Can we buy you boys dinner? It’s the least we can do to thank you for what you’ve done. We’re carrying around too much cash, I realize that now. You saved the rest of this trip for us, gents. You’ve got to let us do something for you.” The couple was so nice, Herb’s offer tempting, to a degree, but all they really wanted was the verbal thank you that night. Their plans for the evening now changed drastically from what they had been just an hour earlier.

“Nah, thanks, Herb. We appreciate the offer. But I think we’re gonna call it a night.” Hutch said, not really offering a reason why.

“Are you sure?” Ellen asked Starsky. She was obviously smitten with him, Hutch noted, hoping that Starsky’s will held out and he would not cave to the nice older lady’s entreaty.

“Thanks for the offer. But tonight’s our last night here, we’ve got some packing to do, and tomorrow will be a long day for us, and we’re a little tired from our jog earlier, so we’re gonna say thanks for the offer.” Starsky shook Herb’s hand, and then leaned down to give Ellen a kiss. “Traveler’s checks, he whispered loudly in her ear. “Tomorrow, okay?” He asked, eyebrows rising, looking for acknowledgement from his newly found friend.

“Yes, first thing in the morning.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, dear.”

Hutch shook hands with Herb and the park rangers, kissed Ellen goodbye and the two detectives headed in the opposite direction than they’d planned at the beginning of their evening.

Starsky sat quietly in the passenger seat, an occasional large breath sucking in oxygen in the thin air.

“You okay, babe,” Hutch asked, putting his hand on his partner’s thigh as he continued the short drive to their motel.

“Fine. I’m fine, Hutch.” Hutch knew he wasn’t exactly fine, but he would be.

Hutch pulled the car up in front of a small local grocery and said, “You wanna come in, help me pick out some stuff to eat?”

Starsky’s eyes were droopy, his demeanor projected little desire to move from his comfortable position in the passenger’s seat.

“Why don’t you stay here and guard the fort?” Hutch said, smiling at the sleepy love of his life seated next to him.

“Sounds…like…a plan,” Starsky yawned.

Hutch smiled as he watched Starsky close his eyes. His partner would be asleep before Hutch set foot inside the grocery. He hurried out of the car, made quick work of picking up some goodies for dinner, and was swiftly back in the car and driving them back to the comfort of their motel.

Within ten minutes they were parked in front of their room. Hutch put his hand on his partner’s neck, starting a slow massage to try to ease Starsky into wakefulness. It seemed to work, as Starsky began a quiet moan, his eyes beginning to open slowly.

“Wake up, buddy. We’re back at the motel,” Hutch said. Starsky began to blink his eyes, waking from what appeared to Hutch to be a sound, peaceful slumber.

“How long have I been out?”

“Not long. Time to go inside and get comfortable. You hungry?” Hutch asked, a little concerned about his partner’s sluggishness. They both started out of the car.

“I could eat,” Starsky replied, perking up at the possible delights hidden in the grocery bags Hutch retrieved from the back seat. Hutch shook his head, pleased that the thought of food seemed to pick Starsky out of zombie world.

“Good. ‘Cause I’ve got food.” They entered the motel and began emptying the bags onto the small all-purpose table in their room. This room had become a comfortable place for them, despite its shortcomings in size. It was nicely decorated, had a magnificent view of Pike’s Peak, and was very affordable. And it had provided all the privacy they wanted for their special evenings together. They would both miss the place.

“Ow, that’s hot! What’s in there?” Starsky asked, the closed container preventing any aromas from making it to Starsky highly tuned nose.

“Chili. They had a nice take-out section in that little store. You have chili, with some onions and cheese. I’ve got vegetable soup. There’s a couple of sandwiches, some chips, root beer for you, and Coke for me. Even a little surprise for later.” Hutch provided no more detail, which was just fine with Starsky; he had learned that surprises from Hutch were usually worth the wait.

“C’n’t b’lieve how h’ngry I ws,” Starsky said as he took a large bite from half of a roast beef sandwich.

“It’s about seven forty-five. We had lunch at noon. I’m surprised your stomach didn’t start growling and start an avalanche up high on the peak.”

“V’ry funny,” Starsky chewed on, taking a large mouthful of chili before he’d even finished the last bits of the roast beef in his mouth.

“You might want to slow down a little there, buddy. Don’t want to have to do the Heimlich on you.”

“Worry about your own food,” Starsky finally said, this time sans food in his mouth. His mother would be horrified, he thought. “I can take care of myself. I’ve eaten without help since I was five.”

“All by yourself since you were five, huh?” Hutch asked, smiling wryly at his partner.

“Well, I guess I wasn’t cutting my meat when I was five. But definitely seven.”

“Definitely,” Hutch agreed, still smiling warmly.

“Wha’s the s’prise?” Starsky asked again through a mouthful of potato chips.

“Later. You relax and finish eating. I’m gonna start packing.”

“I c’n help,” Starsky countered, scrambling to get up from his comfortable spot on the bed while he set his drink and plate down on the bedside table.

“Sit. It won’t take me long. Just sit there and look pretty,” Hutch winked at his partner as he rose to begin putting everything away that they wouldn’t need for tomorrow.

“That’s easy,” Starsky grinned back.

By the time Hutch had finished the packing, the humming that he had provided for the task had put his lover back on the edge of sleep. That wouldn’t do, not yet, Hutch thought.

A short time later, Hutch sat on the edge of the bed, leaned down over his partner, his right hand taking the soft curls on Starsky’s head and fondling them, his left hand starting to unbutton the shirt on Starsky’s handsome, lean body.

“I’m going to undress you now,” he whispered into the curl-covered ear.

“Mmmm,” Starsky replied, obviously still awake, awake enough to enjoy the breath of his blond on his ear, to take pleasure in the possibilities such an offer could lead to. Starsky opened his eyes and saw that Hutch had already removed his own clothes, displaying the adored fair skin, the smooth chest, the beginnings of an erection that would normally start Starsky moving with great pleasure, and little effort. Starsky gradually started to rise, to help remove the clothes himself in an effort to move things along.

“Nope. Just stay there, beautiful man. Keep your eyes closed,” Hutch whispered, his expression softer with each word spoken. “Just relax. Fall asleep, if you want.” Hutch knew that his partner would not fall asleep yet, but he wanted Starsky to remain relaxed as he prepared his partner for what was to come. Hutch didn’t have any real plan other than to give Starsky some light stimulation to keep him relaxed in order for him to have the deep, sound sleep his body was clearly yearning for from these last days in the mountains. The satisfaction they would both receive would be something different for them, a remembrance of wonderful times spent in this beautiful spot in the shadow of Pike’s Peak.

Starsky relaxed deep into the bedding, allowing his partner the erotic pleasure of undressing him. Starsky’s relaxation was all encompassing, Hutch noticing very little give as he removed the briefs that usually took great effort to remove by this time in their preparations for having sex. But Hutch was not planning sex for this evening. Hutch was planning to make love to his lover, and to continue to make love to him as he fell into a restful slumber.

The deep breathing of his partner was Hutch’s signal to reach for the surprise he’d picked up at the store. He hoped that the sweetness would not shock his partner awake when he went in deeply into Starsky’s mouth with the whipped cream in his own. After all, Starsky didn’t like to go to sleep without his dessert.

Hutch shot a large dollop of whipped cream into his mouth and leaned in to place his mouth near his partner’s. “Open up, lover,” he whispered as he trailed some of the tasty cream over Starsky’s face while waiting for the sleepy one to comply. He would pick up on that trail later.

Starsky opened his mouth as directed, and Hutch inserted his tongue into the expectant mouth, first darting in and out to allow Starsky to adjust to the idea of something other than the flavor of Hutch in his mouth.

Starsky’s reaction to Hutch’s request showed the blond that sleep was not far off for his lover: Starsky was far more exhausted from that day’s efforts than he would ever be willing to show were he fully awake. But in this state, Hutch found incredibly pliable lips willing to allow Hutch entrance, and giving Hutch the freedom to do with them as he pleased. Hutch took full advantage, pushing more of the cream into his lover’s mouth, watching with delight as the wondrous lips licked the cream, a crooked, sleepy smile coming to Starsky’s face. Hutch filled up a few times as he continued the easy, sweet investigation of his partner’s mouth while Starsky eagerly allowed the exploration, enjoying the unusual sweetness combined with the flavor that was distinctly Hutch.

Hutch took a final taste of the whipped cream, sure that this would be the last of Starsky’s conscious ability to return even a little of the caressing of his mouth. Surprisingly, he found his partner reaching a hand toward his own erection. Starsky had remained peacefully relaxed through the entire process while Hutch’s erection grew with each delicious taste he stole from his tired, but willing partner.

His mind suddenly reeling from the slight touch, Hutch calmed himself as much as he could and allowed his partner to fondle his penis, hoping that a soon to be sleeping Starsky didn’t suddenly begin dreaming that he needed to grab a tight hold of a weapon to fight off some bad guys.

His partner was clearly not thinking of such desperate thoughts as Hutch found that a sleepy Starsky had a most gentle touch, and the pleasure he found in letting his partner continue the slow yet firm stroking was everything he needed to ease that most private part.

Hutch, now lying down next to his partner to prepare for the orgasm soon to happen, kissed his partner’s neck and forehead, and noticed that the stroking was easing – Starsky was quickly succumbing to the much-needed sleep. The timing of Starsky finishing and Hutch coming was just one more manifestation of their one-ness. Hutch jerked his completion into the lax yet appropriately position hand of his lover, the slowing release now making way for Hutch’s own exhaustion.

Hutch relaxed up close to his lover, now face to face in preparation for sleep. He eased his head onto his pillow, and pulled Starsky up close to him, kissing the curls dangling over the slumbering face.

“Nice?” Starsky asked, conscious concern for pleasing his partner, even in sleep, taking precedence over Starsky’s far more basic need for rest.

“Nice, babe. You didn’t have to do that.” Hutch gently kissed the lips now facing him, Starsky’s face angelic, his eyelids winning the battle to stay closed.

“Did,” Starsky slurred, fighting the tremendous drowsiness Hutch knew he was feeling.

“Go to sleep, babe,” Hutch said, another long, lingering kiss to the forehead of his affectionate charge a sign that he, too, was ready for rest.

“Good trip,” Starsky finished, sleep finally winning out.

Hutch smiled, pressing his forehead up against that of the warm, loving man that he so adored. And despite his misgivings at the beginning of the trip, said, “Great trip.”

The End.