Nice to be Hutch

900

A series of four drabbles, tag to “Gillian.”

 

With thanks to Vedette_Ciel, Granderobino, and the folks over at LJ me_and_thee_100 comm for their inspiration and encouragement.

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“You had Huggy check her out.” Hutch raised a stricken face, and Starsky felt guilt tear at him. “He told me you were gonna buy her off. Send her packing back East.” His voice was raw with hurt and pain. “How much did it take, huh, Starsk? What was her price for turning that trick?”

Starsky shook his head. “She wouldn’t take the money. She really loved you, buddy.”

“I wish I could believe that.” Hutch said tiredly. “Why’d you do it?”

“‘Cause I love you too, Hutch. You do believe that, don’t you?” Starsky pleaded.

Hutch wouldn’t answer him.

***********

After Hutch left, Starsky stared up at the ceiling, hearing Gillian’s words over and over:

“You love him too, don’t you?… Wouldn’t it be nice to be Hutch? In one lifetime you have two people love you so much.”

It hit him then, all of a sudden, how much he loved Hutch. How he loved Hutch. He tried to reject it, to put it out of his thoughts, but the burgeoning realization took root like an insidious weed, firmly and swiftly entrenching itself in his mind and in his heart. In his soul.

Oh, no. What am I gonna do?

***********

“He’ll get over it, Starsky. Give it time. Hutch knows you didn’t do it to hurt him,” said Huggy.

It took a minute for Starsky to finally notice the beer. He glanced up, his eyes red, and he nodded slowly. As he raised the mug to his lips, he muttered something almost too low for Huggy to hear.

Almost.

Huggy’s world shifted. Then the pieces came together and settled into a familiar picture, but one seen in a new light.

“Starsky? Shit, when—”

“Just now. Or since forever. Fuck, I don’t know. Tell me, how do I get over this?”

***********

“Dammit, Huggy. Why the hell did you hafta tell him about Gillian?” Despair amplified by alcohol made his words sting.

“C’mon, one thing ain’t got nothin’ to do with t’other,” Huggy protested.

“Maybe not, but it’s got everything to do with what happens next. Or, what doesn’t happen.”

Confused, Huggy asked, “What do you mean? You’re gonna tell him, right?”

An ugly laugh. “Sure. I get his dream girl killed, then I tell him I’m in love with him?” Starsky leaned in menacingly, but Huggy heard the veiled desperation.

“This time, you keep your trap shut. Hutch can never know.”