Did You Hear the One…?

Words can hurt. Sharing helps.

Leaning back in the passenger side of the undercover car, Hutch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The salty air off the ocean was pleasantly warm, without the acid tang of smog tinting it. At least on this stakeout the bad guy had the good taste to hole up in an apartment just blocks from the beach, on the expensive side of town.

What a day to be stuck inside! What I need is a long weekend, a lady to share it with, and a long stretch of beach to ourselves. Heck, at this point, I’d take any one of the three.

Sitting in a car, waiting for a suspect to make a move, was never very easy. Hutch always had to fight the urge to get out and scout the area, to walk the streets rather than sit still and watch. Beautiful days, like today, where spring had taken hold and the temperature was still pleasant, made sitting and waiting even harder than usual.

Opening one eye, he looked over at Starsky, who was leaning against the door on the driver’s side. Starsky was dressed in his usual; blue jeans, a dark blue T-shirt and a lighter blue shirt buttoned just enough at the bottom to help hide his holster.

The wind wafting through their open windows was having a field day with Starsky’s hair, blowing handfuls of the chocolate colored strands this way and that. Lately Starsky had taken great care to work out the natural curls he’d been born with, to conform with the current style. Hutch found he missed them more than he wanted to admit. But this morning Starsky must have been rushed or distracted, as a there were thumb-sized curls revealed here and there by the wild breeze, making him look like a wild, tousled, gypsy boy, fresh from some grand adventure.

Normally, Hutch would have smile at the scene, but Starsky didn’t look very relaxed. He’d been quiet all morning, smiling superficially at the appropriate times, but the good mood never quite reached his eyes.

The two of them hadn’t talked much during the day. They’d just listened to the calls coming in over the police radio, kept their eyes on the suspect’s apartment and let the world pass them by. They sometimes had days like that, when there wasn’t any real need to make conversation. Today had been different, with Starsky seeming on the verge of saying something at any moment. The whole day had gone by, and still Hutch found himself waiting.

We’ll be off shift in an hour, and he hasn’t said what the problem is. Maybe I should just ask him? We’ve got the whole evening to work it out, if he needs it.

Hutch picked up the magazine he had finished hours ago, rolled it up into a tube and leaned over. He whacked Starsky’s leg just hard enough to make a loud cracking sound. He put on his evilest grin and waited for the reaction.

“What was that for?!” Starsky asked, startled into sitting up straight in his seat. He looked more amused than concerned. “I didn’t do anything!”

“I’m bored.” Hutch shrugged. “You’re ignoring me. That makes you a good target. Care to tell me what’s going on, so I’ll have something to fill my day with?”

“What do you mean?” Starsky shrugged and leaned back into his corner, shaking a finger at Hutch. “I don’t have anything going on. You’re the one who’s being abusive.”

“Oh, no! I knew it!” Hutch sighed loudly, watching Starsky out of the corner of his eye. “It’s me, isn’t it? You’re going to divorce me for partner abuse!” Hutch put his hand over his heart, going for a look of overdone devastation. “You’ve outgrown me and are looking for the words to break it to me, even now. You’ve found another, and–”

“Oh, stop it.” Starsky made a face and chuckled. “Your acting is horrible unless you’re undercover. I get the point. It’s just…”

“Ah, come on, Starsk,” Hutch said at the pause. “You’ve had all day to mull it over, and it doesn’t seem to be working. Why don’t you spill it? They say misery loves company.”

Starsky was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, try this on for size. Why do Polish police cars have stripes on the side?”

Hutch was surprised, wondering what the point was. Neither one of them had ever cared for jokes based on people’s races or disabilities, and Hutch himself could easily go the rest of his life and never hear another blonde joke. “I don’t know. Why?”

“So they can find the handles.”

“Ouch,” Hutch said, wincing. “So, who told you that one, and are they still living?”

“No one told me, just overheard it.” Starsky’s face fell, and his voice grew soft. “Heard a lot of things I shouldn’t have. You know what your parents tell you about eavesdropping when you’re a kid. It’s liable to bite you in the ass.”

“Guess it wasn’t anything good, huh?”

“It seems I don’t look ‘white bread’ enough for some people. I look too Jewish to be taken seriously as a boyfriend, but am good for a buck or two on a date. You know how us Jews are with money. We’ve got it to spend when we want to. And with a last name that ends in a ‘Y’, well… just my luck to have a Polish sounding name.” Starsky gave Hutch a weak smile.

Hutch could feel the anger crawl up his spine, as it always did when someone picked on Starsky. With the ‘boyfriend’ comment, he was afraid that he knew who was causing Starsky’s distress. “What’s going on, Starsk?”

Starsky shrugged. “Before our stakeout today I ran down to R&I to see if I could catch up with Sarah. Wanted to see where she wanted to go out to eat tonight. I was kinda hopin’ I could talk her into something a little less expensive than the last few places she picked out. Hard to keep up with her on a cop’s budget.

“Anyway, I saw she was busy in the office, so I made a pit stop first. You know how old that part of the building is. Well, I was in the john and some of the ladies were making a pit stop as well. Guess they didn’t realize that there is a vent high on the wall, opening to both the rest rooms, or that I was within hearing range.” Starsky’s voice almost drifted too low to hear. “Sarah thought that joke was real funny when she told it. So did the other ladies she was with.”

Sarah Cumberland, the new head of R&I, was a beautiful woman who had turned the head of many a man in the station. Well educated, and from a family that swam in old money, she seemed to take every opportunity to point out those facts to anyone she met. What, at first, had been a friendly competition between him and Starsky to get the fair lady’s attention, had led to uncomfortable feelings on Hutch’s part when she and Starsky had started to date seriously, just a few weeks ago.

Damn, I knew I didn’t like her, Hutch thought, feeling a little guilty. She’s a looker, no doubt about that, but she reminded me too much of Van and her snobby friends. Why I even wanted to get together with her, I’ll never know. I should have gone with my gut, and warned him off. But what if he’d only thought it was sour grapes on my part? Guess I should have taken that chance.

“Maybe she wasn’t thinking of you, Starsk. You know, people tell those kinds of jokes all the time and don’t mean anything by them. She wouldn’t be the only one in the world with bad taste in humor.”

“Sure, and lots of other people have big stripes down the sides of their car. And that was just the start of the hilarity,” Starsky said, cheeks growing faintly red. He kept his eyes on the crowd outside. “She went on to brag how she’s just using me to make some hotshot lawyer in the DA’s office jealous. Guess she’s been flirting pretty heavily with him while we’ve been dating. Her ‘White Knight’ is supposed to come and save her from dating beneath her station.”

Hutch bit his tongue, not wanting to interrupt Starsky nor put him in a position of defending a lady he had really liked until this morning. He could tell that Starsky was still working through his emotions, and putting the lady down wasn’t going to help him untangle his feelings any faster.

Starsky turned and looked him then, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, as if he could see Hutch’s anger and understood it. His voice took on a haughty tone as he reached out and ruffled Hutch’s hair. “After all, everyone knows that WASP’s and Polish Jews don’t mix. Utterly ridiculous.”

“Damn right. It’s just not natural.” Hutch swatted Starsky’s hand away and tried to smile, glad to see that Starsky was dealing with the unpleasant situation with a bit of humor. That was always a good sign, and was something Hutch could play along with.

Brushing the hair out of his face, Hutch shifted closer to Starsky, laying his arm along the back of the car seat. He grabbed a handful of dark, rowdy curls at the nape of Starsky’s neck and gave them a tug. “Something like that happens, it would be the end of the world as we know it. Can you imagine what kind effect that kind of odd couple would have on society?”

“Yeah, get rid of prejudice and stereo-types all over the world. Wouldn’t that be a damn shame?” Starsky chuckled, and elbowed Hutch gently. “But it’s okay, Hutch. Nothing that meeting her after the stakeout, and letting her know I’m no longer interested, won’t cure. Thousands of fish in the sea. Time I found one that likes my kind of bait.”

Sitting as the conversation had left them, Hutch could tell Starsky felt better for sharing. He was in a bad situation, no doubt about that, but Hutch knew that he would break it off with Sarah and the wound to his ego would heal. And knowing Starsky as well as he did, Hutch knew he’d find a way to do it with enough grace and dignity to give the lady a glimpse at the person she was losing.

And may she regret it to the end of her days. She’s a damn fool if she can’t see the type of man she was putting down. If she only knew, if only everyone knew, they’d be falling all over themselves to be where I am today.

The street crowd flowed by them, unconcerned with the two men who were watching them from the unremarkable car. The locals were beautiful people, living in a beautiful area, but Hutch knew how superficial that was. After all, they were staking out a man who liked to sell drugs to kids. Money could buy beauty on the outside, like that piece of scum could buy a condo in an area like this, but what did that mean, in the long run?

It’s the total package, not the pretty presentation. If only more people could see that.

As a gust whipped through the car once again, Starsky’s hair went on another wild dance.

This time, Hutch watched from the corner of his eye, and smiled.