In Sickness and in Health

Just another scene of euphoric sentimentalism.

Wondering how many more visits would qualify them for frequent flyer miles, Starsky walked down the hospital corridor to the room they said held his partner. The injury itself, a gash on his partner’s left calf from a rusted metal fence, wasn’t serious enough to admit the blond. His reaction to the “new” antibiotic they gave him was however.

The doctor assured Starsky that Hutch was in no danger since they caught the negative reaction in time. They simply wanted to keep him overnight “just in case” because the reaction had happened so quickly and so violently.

He reached the room, 438, and wondered distantly if one of them had spent a night in this room before. He pushed the door open and found his partner, as promised, in the bed asleep.

Starsky pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down. Hutch looked pale, tired.

Starsky softly pushed the long hair off the man’s forehead.

“Hey.” Light blue eyes opened, blinked and cleared.

“Hey yourself. Didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“Didn’t expect to wake up in a hospital room. I don’t remember fading out. What happened?”

“You had a reaction to the antibiotics.”

“Enough to put me here?”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. You stopped breathing for a couple secs.”

“Shit, that means I spend the night.”

“We know the drill better than half the staff.”

Hutch looked across the room to the clock, noting the time. “We missed Babcock’s party, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, well. It’s not like he’s leaving the force. Just the department. Taking that cushy job in Burglary.”

“And you’re here with me. Again.”

“Where else would I be?” He reached to brush another lock out of the light blue eyes, but was stopped by a large hand that grabbed and held his smaller one.

Hutch turned to lie on his side, facing his partner and never releasing the hand. “In sickness and in health, eh?”

Yeah,” Starsky softly laughed. “In good times and in bad it seems.” He stopped, tightened his grip on the other’s hand.

Blue met blue and held. “For richer for poorer?”

“For better for worse.”

They stared at each other, each finding in the other’s gaze all the affirmation they needed. The dark head lowered while the blond head rose to meet its mate.

The kiss was soft, full or promise, a lover’s kiss speaking wordlessly of the deepest of feelings, the deepest of commitments.

“Till death and beyond.”

“Amen partner. Amen.”