Nina Has a Way of Getting to Ya

Hutch watches over Starsky as he recovers from the poisoning by the Professor.

Written for a prompt using record player, soothe/soothing and A Coffin for Starsky.

The soothing sounds of Nina Simone emanated from the record player and floated through the apartment. Starsky was dozing on the sofa, while Hutch was cooking dinner in the kitchen. Usually Starsky played records that were more upbeat, like his favourite Fats Domino, but with his depleted energy levels Nina fit the bill nicely for something relaxing.

Hutch placed the roasting tin in the middle of the oven and checked the time. Twenty minutes more then it should be ready. He walked through to join Starsky in the living room. When he saw that his friend had his eyes closed and appeared to be sleeping, he sat down quietly on the white, peacock chair.

He leant back, relaxing against the throw pillows and turned his head so he could see the rise and fall of Starsky’s chest and drink in the relaxed look on his face.

Who would have known that watching someone nap could be so reassuring? But it was, especially to the anxious blond. Given that two days ago Starsky had been in agony and struggling to breathe, Hutch couldn’t contain the relief he felt at his partner’s miracle cure and recovery. Thank goodness that he had managed to get the poison from the Professor so an antidote could be made. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. A tear slipped from the corner of one eye and Hutch wiped it away hastily.

“Nina has a way of getting to ya, doesn’t she?” Starsky said quietly.

Hutch swallowed before saying, “Yes, she sure does.”

Starsky slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at his best friend. His look said everything that needed saying. The nod Hutch gave him in return just underlined it.

“Something smells good.”

Hutch looked pleased. “It’s almost ready. You want to eat at the table or where you are?”

Starsky considered then said, “At the table. Help me up.”

Hutch came to his partner’s side as Starsky swing his legs off the couch. He held out a hand and, once it was clasped, heaved his friend to his feet then steadied him. Starsky was still a little wobbly so Hutch slipped an arm around him and steered him towards the kitchen and a seat.

“Thanks.”

Hutch collected cutlery, condiments and napkins and passed them to Starsky to put out on the table. Then he warmed some bread while he started serving up the meal. Once they were both seated at the table with a root beer in hand, Hutch proposed a toast.

“To you, Starsk. For saving my life. For still being here.”

Starsky shook his head slightly. “No, to you, Hutch. For saving my life and for always being there when I need ya.”

They looked at each other and smiled.

“How about to me and thee?” Hutch suggested.

Starsky nodded. “To me and thee.”

They clinked bottles.

As they ate, the sounds of Nina’s voice, the sharing of the tasty meal and the silence of deep friendship soothed away the last lingering fears and worries leaving behind only gratitude and peace.