64
A drabble set after the Gunther shooting. Starsky and Hutch reflect.
Starsky sat down at the table opposite Hutch. “You know, Hutch, I’m startin’ ta’ think I’ve been doing this Christmas thing all wrong.”
Hutch looked up from the bills he was doing. “What do you mean?”
“Always asking what you’re getting me. I think I’m doing it wrong.”
Hutch smiled. “So what do you think you should be doing instead?”
“I think I should be worrying about what I’m getting you.”
Hutch shook his head. “You don’t need to get me anything, Starsk. You already gave me the best present possible,” he said quietly.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You lived.”
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