Out

246

Starsky and Hutch are in a committed relationship but Hutch wants more. Will a ghost from Starsky’s past take everything away?

 

Originally published in the Hidden Secrets, Broken Hearts zine in 2004. Art by Maureen B. Photo manip by Bliss.

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He closed his eyes and felt the tight hot channel grip him as he plunged slowly in to the hilt. Strong legs grappled at the back of his sweaty thighs as if trying to pull him in even deeper. He threw his head back, wiping sweat soaked hair out of his eyes as he pounded on. He gritted his teeth in a Herculean effort to block out the words coming from the body beneath him. Shut up; please… just don‘t say anything… But Ken Hutchinson couldn’t block out the sounds or the smells or the feel of the soft and willing body beneath him. The female body…the babe of the week. Nice girl, he thought with a certain distance. Not her fault she isn‘t a hairy, hard-muscled, slightly scared, very male partner. Not her fault at all. At that moment the total wrongness of this situation hit him and he felt sickened.

“I can’t do this…And…ah…Mandy…” Whatever the hell your name is. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry…” Hutch stopped stroking and felt his penis begin to soften as he pushed with his arms and removed himself from her body.

“Wh…what? What’s wrong…Hey! Where are you going? What’s the matter?” the young woman pushed her blonde hair out of her face and struggled to sit up, face flushed as realization that their tryst was over slowly dawned on her.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I have to go.” Hutch backed awkwardly off the bed and reached unsteadily around on the floor for his pants.

“What! What happened…you got married since the last time I saw you or something and you suddenly feel guilty?”

“No…” You don‘t know how close you are to the truth. “I think it’s the Mexican we had for dinner coming back on me. I’ve got to go. I’m really sorry.” Hutch staggered slightly as he hopped on one foot and then the other, threading his legs into his pants and trying to pull them up quickly at the same time.

“Can I get you something? I think there’s some Alka-Seltzer in the bathroom. Maybe if you lie down for a few minutes…”

“I just need to get home…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, right.” Wrapping the sheet around her body she got up as far as her knees to pout in his general direction.

Hutch grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it without bothering with his shirt. Snatching his holster off the edge of the couch where he’d slung it, he all but ran out of the door continuing down the walkway to his car parked at the curb.

He drove through the streets in light traffic, parking the car in front of Venice Place and sitting alone in the dark. His mind tumbled with a kaleidoscope of mental pictures and confused feelings. Giving his head an angry shake he got out of the car. Hutch briefly looked up at the darkened windows before taking a cursory glance around searching for a red car that was strikingly absent. With a sad sigh he locked his car and trudged up the stairs. He entered the darkened apartment and leaned against the door as his body’s weight slowly closed it. Hanging his holster over the bathroom door he pulled off his jacket and threw it in the general direction of the couch.

Like a man in a dream-state, Hutch plodded out to the greenhouse. He stopped to look at his plants, touching a leaf here, a blossom there. “I couldn’t do it,” Hutch spoke to a neglected looking spinney fern. “I just can’t stand the pretense anymore. I can’t fake it… can’t keep up the sham. I don’t want to be with any of them. It isn’t them… they’re okay. I…just can’…can’t pretend anymore. I don’t want to be with any woman.

Starsky’s it for me…I’ve told him that. He knows how I feel. I love him. He says he loves me…” Hutch moved on to a Christmas cactus. “He says he loves me. I believe him. So why the hell is he out with some chick, balling his brains out to give credence to a lie we’re both forced to live with? I can’t do it anymore.” Hutch pulled off a dead leaf on a climbing geranium with a vicious snap. “I’m not going to do it anymore.” Crushing the dead leaf in his fist Hutch moved back inside. Taking a beer out of the refrigerator, he settled on the couch to wait for his lover to come home.

* * *

Hutch was startled out of a light doze he wasn’t aware he’d fallen into by the clamoring of sneakered feet up the stairs. The door opened with Starsky’s normal flourish. “Hey, babe! Whatcha doing still up?” Starsky asked as he took a beer out of the refrigerator and joined Hutch on the couch.

“I thought we needed to talk,” Hutch answered, his eyes following Starsky as he settled himself.

“Uh oh…one of those talks?” Starsky asked taking a long drink from the beer.

“What do you mean by those talks?” Hutch asked feeling irritation wash over him.

“The ones you only want to have when your date was a bust,” Starsky replied with a smirk.

“I can’t do this anymore, Starsk,” Hutch began.

“Do what?”

“Go out with women, fuck around and pretend that I’m something I’m not.”

“Hutch,” Starsky began with exaggerated patience. “We’ve had this talk a hundred times. You know if we’re going to live together it’s going to raise some red flags. By keeping up the parade of pretty ladies it’ll take the heat off.”

“Why do we care? You moved in with me when you were recuperating after Gunther’s hit. Yeah, it was a work-comp injury, but getting no pay but state disability wouldn’t pay the bills. It made sense to share a place. Nobody asked any questions.”

“Yeah, and now that I’m back to regular duty, you think the world might wonder why I’m still living here?” Starsky challenged.

“Because you haven’t caught up financially yet, as far as they’re concerned. But how closely are they looking, anyway? Do you really think they still notice? I think as long as we’re discreet at work and don’t draw any attention to ourselves, we’ll be fine. We don’t need to keep up the charade of dating women just to satisfy those assholes.”

“Hutch…if they find out we’re lovers, they will: (a) fire us as the worse case scenario, or (b) split us up as partners, and for me… that’s the worse case of all.” Starsky finished his beer and turned on the couch to face Hutch.

“I don’t want to have to deal with either of those two things, but I don’t think it’s a sure bet that’s what would happen. We just act like we always have at work, and what we do in the privacy of our own home is none of their fucking business.”

“But Hutch, if we’re fucking, they’ll make it their business. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. As long as we’ve got ladies that can be called on to say we’re dating and that the dates are not purely platonic, they can’t claim we’re queer. Any flack they hit us with won’t stick at all.”

“I don’t agree and I’m not going to do it anymore. I don’t want to be intimate with anyone else. It makes me sick, plus I don’t like using the women. It isn’t honest, and that’s not who I am. If I’m not enough for you and you feel like you’ve still got to do the horizontal mambo with every blonde you meet, then we have a whole different problem.” Hutch fixed Starsky with an unblinking look.

“Where the hell is that coming from, Blondie? You telling me you’re doubting how I feel about you?” Starsky leaned closer. “Or are you just feeling sour-grapes because your date was a bust and mine was a rocket ride?”

Hutch tried to school his features against reacting to Starsky’s comment but knew he was failing miserably when Starsky’s eyes lit up.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous. You didn’t score and you’re pissed at me because I did. Maybe you just should have taken my advice about which stewardess to go home with. You probably wouldn’t have come home with blue balls and a bad attitude.” Starsky got up from the couch to get another beer.

Hutch watched his partner swagger to the kitchen and back, his eyes unable to resist the spectacular show of Starsky’s ass in his tight jeans.

“Allison was hot, and loud enough that the manager got some complaints and had to call the room to tell us to keep it down.” Starsky’s face shone with pride as he handed Hutch the beer he’d brought him.

“Stop it!” Hutch snapped.

“She has this neat trick she did with her hips when I was taking her from behind…”

“I said stop it!” Hutch yelled as he jumped up to pace. “I don’t want to hear any details about your time tonight, or any other night. I can’t stand the thought of you touching anyone else, or being touched by them. I don’t see how you can say you love me and still be with someone else and apparently like it. I feel like I’m kidding myself when I try it. Maybe that’s not the only thing I’m kidding myself about.”

“Hutch…” Starsky set down his beer and stood up to block Hutch’s path, opening his arms to embrace him. Hutch took a step back, not moving into the offered comfort. “They don’t mean anything, babe. You know that. I love you. I always will. I wish we didn’t have to play games about it, but it’s a fact. We do, and there ain’t no getting around that. At least not now, maybe someday. But I’m selfish enough to want you and the job, too. I worked damn hard to get it back and it’s important to me. Not more important than you, but a close second. If we ball some foxy lady that’s a friend and willing, who’s it hurt? It keeps our cover and we still have each other. It doesn’t have anything to do with who I really love. It’s just sex.”

Starsky stood close to Hutch, running his long fingered hands up and down Hutch’s arms. “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’ll show you how much I love you. Things will look better after that,” Starsky let his hand run down the length of Hutch’s right arm to end with a grasp of his hand. Intertwining their fingers he gently tugged Hutch toward the sleeping alcove.

“You think that’s the answer to everything? Fuck the problem away?” Hutch jerked his hand free. “You think I want to make love with you when you’ve just left some bimbo’s bed? I can smell her on you. Get away from me.”

“Hutch, come on, babe. You’re letting something stupid make you crazy. It doesn’t matter how many girls I fuck for show. I don’t make love to anybody but you. Don’t you know that?” Starsky moved in closer, reaching out once more.

“No, I don’t know that. I can’t quite make the distinction that I should feel special when you stick your dick into me minutes after you’ve stuck it into somebody else. I’m not good at sharing, Starsk. I thought I could do it, but I can’t.” Hutch pulled away again feeling a heavy weight settle around his heart as he did so. “I’m going to bed. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to talk about. We’re so far off being on the same page with this I can’t believe it.” Hutch shook his head and moved away sadly.

“Hutch…don’t be that way. Come on, babe…” Starsky followed behind him.

“Leave it alone!” Hutch replied sharply. “We don’t see eye to eye on this and I don’t think we ever will. Just drop it. You do what you have to do. I already told you how I feel. I’m not playing that game again. If you still plan to, then I’ll have to live with it…as long as I can.”

Starsky’s step faltered. “As long as you can…? What the hell’s that supposed to mean? You giving me an ultimatum hidden in that, buddy? You’re not going to do what I think we need to do in order to keep us protected, but if I do, then I’m the bad guy? I’m trying to keep us safe. What part of that don’t you get? I’m not just talking about our jobs and our partnership here. You know what can happen.

Remember Murphy a couple years ago? The 14th precinct guys found out he was queer and weren’t too quick about giving him back-up. He wound up damn near bleeding to death in a Wedgwood alley waiting for response to his officer down.”

“I can’t see that happening, we’re too careful,” Hutch answered stubbornly.

“You’re too important to me to take the chance,” Starsky answered, fixing Hutch with an unwavering stare.

“I’m going to bed,” Hutch whispered, breaking away from deep blue eyes that bore into him.

Starsky walked away without a word and headed for the shower. Hutch undressed and crawled between the sheets as he listened to the thrumming water. In a matter of moments after the water stopped he felt the bed dip as Starsky joined him. Hutch could feel the warm moist air surrounding Starsky’s body as he edged close. He could smell the fragrance of soap and sandalwood as Starsky spooned up behind him.

Hutch felt Starsky’s hands slippery with lotion draw across his shoulders, his partner’s long fingers digging strongly into his knotted muscles. “Starsky…I meant what I said…”

“I’m not trying anything, babe. I just want to make you feel good. I want you to relax. Jeez, your muscles are like knotted ropes. Just let me help you…”

Hutch reluctantly rolled onto his stomach, letting Starsky’s hands work the tension out of his neck and shoulders. He sighed into his pillow as he felt Starsky’s hands rub further down his back, thumbs raking over the corded muscles there, easing away the pain and stiffness. The hands skimmed down over his buttocks, the touch strong and sure, not sexual, not enticing. The strong strokes rubbed along his thighs, then down his calves to his ankles and feet. The motion of Starsky’s hands was rhythmic…soothing, becoming hypnotic and he felt himself yielding to the spell. Starsky’s fingers kneaded the soles of both feet before moving up his ankles again.

Hutch’s eyes were getting heavy and he felt himself drifting softly, as Starsky’s stroke became feather light touches. The whispery touch traced up the back of his thighs, drifting toward the inside of each leg, followed by the touch of Starsky’s lips as butterfly kisses followed his fingers. Hutch’s legs moved apart involuntarily and he bit his lip to stifle the groan threatening to escape as he felt his own erection begin to harden. Unable to stop himself he pressed his groin against the bed as Starsky’s fingers tickled between his thighs, his thumbs rubbing softly over Hutch’s scrotum, then up and down the crack between Hutch’s buttocks.

Starsky’s lips followed the teasing fingers and Hutch did groan aloud as he lifted his ass higher in search of more of the soft touches and wet kisses. Starsky drew his tongue up Hutch’s perineum, stopping to draw a small wet and warm circle around Hutch’s center.

“I love you, Blintz. There’s nobody else for me. Even dying couldn’t keep me away. What more can I do to show you, huh?”

Hutch closed his eyes, feeling his erection continue to grow from the intimate touch as his heart melted at the words. With a groan that bordered on a sob, Hutch rolled over grabbing Starsky’s shoulders and pulling him up to stretch full length on top of him. He eagerly accepted the familiar warmth and solid weight. Blindly seeking Starsky’s mouth he crushed their lips together, his tongue demanding entry into Starsky’s mouth. Starsky reached between their bodies with one lotion-slick hand and rubbed their straining cocks together.

“I want you, babe. I want you so bad,” Starsky breathed, begging permission against Hutch’s lips. Silently, Hutch spread his long legs and Starsky dove back to kiss him once more. His hunger and need were clearly expressed in the frantic tongue probing Hutch’s mouth, teeth nipping at his lips and sucking Hutch’s tongue strongly into his mouth. Hutch lost himself in the passionate haze of Starsky’s kiss, the fire in his gut consuming him. Hutch raised his hips to press against Starsky’s body, desperate for tighter contact, but Starsky was raising up too and Hutch felt his legs raised followed by the blunt pressure of Starsky’s dick against his anus.

“Yes. Oh God, yes…” Hutch bent his knees and pressed his feet flat against the bed, bearing down to help his own impalement. Starsky slowly pressed forward with a moan until he was fully buried in Hutch’s body. Starsky lifted his upper body on his arms and drove in deeper. Hutch could feel his lover’s muscles tremble. He ran his hands over Starsky’s shoulders and down his sweaty back, each hand palming a rounded buttock and pressing them closer.

“Move, babe. Move, now, do it. Come on…” Hutch pleaded as his own hips began the stroking he needed more than his next breath. And it began, slowly at first as Starsky pulled almost free to slide back in balls deep. Each stroke glided over Hutch’s prostate, filling him with a shower of electric shocks. The strokes became shorter and faster, the force stronger, as both of them raced toward their completion. Hutch’s hands grabbed Starsky’s ass hard enough to leave bruises and he ground Starsky’s body in as far as he could take him and down against where his own cock was trapped between their bodies.

“No…not yet, I want it to last…! I can’t stop it…I’m commmmmiiiinnnngggg,” Hutch screamed as his orgasm ripped through him. Starsky’s yell joined his as Hutch’s ass clamped spasmodically around Starsky’s cock dragging Starsky’s orgasm out to spurt deeply inside him.

Starsky fell onto Hutch’s body like a house of cards, his chest heaving in an effort to draw in air. “I love you, love you so damn much, more than anything…”

It took Hutch a moment to hear above the roaring of the blood in his ears and realize Starsky was whispering against his chest. With great effort he brought his limp arms up to wrap around his lover. Rubbing slow circles across Starsky’s back, Hutch pressed a kiss into the damp curls.

“I know you do. I love you, too. More than anything,” Hutch answered when he could catch enough air.

With a groan Starsky softened and pulled out, nestling against Hutch’s side, one arm and one leg draped possessively over Hutch’s body.

Hutch drew him closer, hearing Starsky’s breathing flatten to a soft snore. He wanted to try and talk again, but Starsky would hardly be receptive now and sleep was pulling his own brain under. With a sigh he gave up fighting it and slept too.

* * *

Hutch rolled over searching for Starsky’s warmth only to find that side of the bed cold and empty. He listened intently for sounds of his lover in the bathroom or elsewhere in the apartment. There was no sound but there was the faint smell of coffee and Hutch rolled out of bed and followed his nose. With a frown at the glowing numbers on the bedside clock which read 0610, he finally found the dark head of his lover sticking out over the spindly fronds of an elephant palm.

“What are you doing awake so early and out here?” Hutch asked.

“I woke up a couple of hours ago, I…I just couldn’t go back to sleep.” Starsky ducked his head and couldn’t hold Hutch’s eyes.

“What’s the real reason?” Hutch asked, stooping down to catch Starsky’s eye and hold it.

“You woke me up talking in your sleep. I guess you were dreaming…”

“I don’t remember dreaming anything. I’m sorry I woke you up, buddy. You should have nudged me to turn over or something.”

“You were crying in your sleep.”

“What?” Hutch searched his memory but came up empty.

“Revisiting our hassle of before we went to bed from what I could make out of your mumbling.” Starsky finished his coffee and stood to move back into the kitchen and refill his cup.

Hutch watched in stunned silence before following into the kitchen and grabbing a cup to kill the pot. “I…I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember any dream, I swear…”

“That’s okay. I believe you. It’s not like I think you did it to slam me with a guilt trip on purpose.” Starsky blew into his cup before taking a sip.

“Starsky…” Hutch began, wanting to choose his words carefully. “I can’t help the way I feel. What we had last night was incredible. It was beautiful, you know? I can’t handle the thought that anyone else touches you like that.” Hutch moved closer to his partner, actively invading his space. He lowered his head to take a quick coffee-flavored kiss. “We’ll take it one day at a time. It’ll work out. We’ll make it work.”

“Yeah. We will,” Starsky promised, meeting Hutch’s eyes in all seriousness.

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” Hutch said. “Make another pot of coffee, will ya’?”

“Sure. We got anything decent to make for breakfast?” Starsky turned to look into the open refrigerator. “How long have these eggs been in here?” Starsky called after Hutch’s retreating steps.

“Crack one and see if it smells funny,” Hutch answered with a chuckle as he closed the bathroom door.

* * *

The fragile truce continued through breakfast and during the drive into Metro. The detectives settled at their desks, trying to complete the reports left over from the previous day. Before they were finished with their first cup of coffee, Dobey came out of his office.

“Hutchinson, come in my office, please,” Dobey said. “Starsky, you can come, too.”

Both men exchanged glances before following the directive and entering their captain’s office.

“What’s up, Cap’n?” Starsky asked as he sprawled into a chair.

“Here’s a plane ticket, Hutchinson. They need you to go to Sacramento to testify before the grand jury.”

“Sacramento?” Starsky questioned.

“Gierson’s there and they’re trying him for two counts of murder one. The charges we have here are going to be added to Sacramento’s package. They need your testimony. It should be a slam dunk, fly up and do a turn around. You should be back late tonight.” Dobey pushed over a file with the plane ticket on top.

“Who’s Gierson?” Starsky asked, peeking at the file in Hutch’s hand.

“He’s a pimp that I busted before you came back to full duty. He was a little heavy-handed in his management style and one of his prostitutes died after he’d beaten her.”

“Sounds like a real prince,” Starsky remarked.

“Yeah. I’ll be glad to add to his grief. Anything that will pile on more time in the joint.” Hutch glanced at the plane ‘ticket and felt his eyes widen. “Shit! I’ve got less than two hours to get to the airport.”

“Well, hell, it isn’t far from here even with traffic,” Dobey defended himself. “It’s not like you’ve got to go home and pack.”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Let’s go partner.”

Both men went back to their desks. Hutch reached for several reports and scrawled his signature on the bottom of each.

“Dobey’s going to want these done pretty quick. I’ve started them, you fill in the rest and turn them in. I signed off on all three of them, so we should be good until tomorrow if I’m really back that quick.”

“Isn’t that what Dobey said he expected?”

“Yeah, but we’re dealing with lawyers…”

“Right, maybe you want to stop and grab a couple of things at K-Mart on the way to the airport?” Starsky asked.

“Probably not a bad idea,” Hutch answered as they snatched their jackets off the backs of their chairs and headed out.

* * *

Sitting in the car in the K-Mart parking lot, Hutch arranged his few purchases in the small canvas bag he used for Vinnie’s gym. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” Hutch offered, knowing Starsky would easily translate what he said into what he meant.

“I’ll miss you, too, babe,” Starsky said, reaching across the seat to squeeze Hutch’s thigh. “Call me when you know what time your flight gets in tonight and I’ll pick you up.”

“If it’s late I can get a cab home…”

“Don’t be stupid. Give me a call, I’ll be there.” Starsky smiled broadly at Hutch and gave his eyebrows a slight wag before he started the Torino. “You can make it worth my while when we get home.”

Hutch laughed and leaned over to ruffle Starsky’s curls. The ride to the airport passed comfortably. Hutch was not looking forward to the separation but was glad that it would only be a very short one. He expected Starsky felt the same way.

Hutch got out of the car at the departure curb, and leaned back into the open window after closing the door. “Be careful today, hot shot.” Hutch let his love shine in the smile he sent his lover. “Love you,” he said softly as he straightened and moved away from the car, hearing Starsky’s voice call “You too, Blondie.”

* * *

Hutch stepped down from the witness stand wiping his damp palms on his pant legs. It had been easy testimony in spite of his inherent nervousness. His information was more of a formality as he represented just one of the many “stacked” charges being litigated, but the proceedings before his had run long and the judge had called an end to the day’s activities before the defense attorney had been able to cross-examine. Which left Hutch obligated to return for court the next day.

So now it was shortly before five P.M. and he was hungry, irritated and in need of a hotel room for the night. The District Attorney had been very apologetic and had been kind enough to point Hutch in the direction of one of the nicer downtown hotels, and made the call to see that his room and any amenities were put on the D.A.’s tab. So by 6:30, Hutch was in a comfortable room, a hot bath running and room service on the way.

As he eased his body into the hot water he let out a satisfied sigh, allowing the steaming water to wash away the tension of the day and the very slight residual ache leftover from Starsky’s loving the night before. With a smile at the memory and a twitch of interest at his groin, he made a mental note to call his lover when he got out of the tub. The knock on the door roused him from the comfortable doze he’d been able to drop into. He just barely rescued the rolled towel wedged behind his neck as he sat up to open the drain and snatch on the robe hanging behind the door to let in the room service delivery.

He ate propped up on pillows in the large king-sized bed and watched the local news and weather, not surprised that much of the news program featured coverage of the capital crime trial he was currently involved in. Washing down the last of his meal with an excellent cup of coffee, he reached for the phone and dialed the familiar number. After ten rings he gave up. “Where the hell are you, buddy?” Hutch placed the meal tray outside of his door and stretched out on the bed to see what, if anything, was interesting on TV.

The next thing he was aware of was nature’s call telling him his bladder was bursting. With a glance at the clock informing him it was after 2:00 A.M., he got up, took care of business, then burrowed back under the thick covers, stopping only long enough to call the front desk and leave a time for his wake-up call. He was back in dreamland as soon as he closed his eyes.

When the phone awakened him the next morning he jumped out of bed to hit the shower and then the restaurant downstairs.

While Hutch waited for his breakfast order he went to a hotel phone and tried calling Starsky again, but got the same result as i the night before. “Well, I guess something came up and you worked really late and you’ve already gone in this morning.” An uneasy niggle itched at the back of his mind but he worked to dismiss it.  “I’m not going to turn into a distrusting, suspicious lover,” he muttered to himself when he saw breakfast arrive at his table. Smiling at the waitress as he returned to the table, he sat down to eat, cleaning his plate with gusto.

* * *

He stepped off the plane, thrilled to have been called to the stand first thing after court convened, allowing him fly back to LA just before lunch. He’d stopped long enough to call Metro and leave a message with the dispatcher concerning the time of his flight and was looking forward to seeing the curly head of his lover at the gate as he disembarked. He was completely unprepared for the cold hand of fear that gripped his guts when he saw the large frame of his Captain at the gate instead. He quickened his pace and when the two men were close, Hutch searched the face of his Captain and what he saw there did nothing to calm him.

“What happened?’ Hutch asked, his voice miraculously normal-sounding despite the desert dry of his constricted throat.

“Hutch…” Dobey shook his head and turned slightly away, walking in the direction of the exit. “Come on, I’ll tell you on the way.”

“The way where?” Hutch demanded as he fell in step with the big man.

“The hospital…” Dobey said. His voice held the unmistakable timbre of tightly reined-in anger.

Hutch’s steps faltered and he felt as if he’d just been sucker-punched. Please, God, not again. He reached out to grasp the suited sleeve of his Captain. “H…h…h…how bad?”

“He was assaulted leaving Huggy’s last night. He got worked over pretty good. There was some internal bleeding and they admitted him to watch it. He didn’t want to go back to surgery again… God knows I don’t blame him, hell, he just got well. From what sense I could make from the doctor’s medical-talk…the Ultrasound showed some hazy stuff that was likely blood, but there didn’t seem to be any active bleeding, so they went with the wait and see, at least for now.”

“Do you know who did it, or why?” Hutch asked feeling dizzy as he held tightly to the hope that Starsky hadn’t put himself at greater risk by refusing surgery right away.

“I put Chandler and Diggers on it. They’re good men. I’ve got them following up a few things. The guy didn’t wait around to be arrested.”

“Guy?” Hutch queried. “There was only one?”

“According to Starsky, yes.”

Hutch pondered that, wondering who the hell could have taken his partner alone and done the kind of damage Dobey was describing. Hutch was still running possibilities in his head when they piled into Dobey’s car and pulled away from the airport.

In slightly over thirty minutes they were at the hospital and Hutch let his eyes scan up the tall building. Damn, I thought we were done with all this for a while. He took a steadying breath and fell into step with Dobey as they entered the lobby and walked into the elevator.

Dobey keyed the button for the fifth floor and Hutch’s tension decreased a notch. At least he’s not in ICU, he thought thankfully.

“He’s in 516,” Dobey said as the elevator stopped, “it’s right across from the nurses station and I put a guard on him, just in case this is more than some random thing.”

“Thanks,” Hutch answered over his shoulder, hurrying his steps toward the room.

Hutch pushed open the door with a nod at Williams, the officer at the door. The room’s blinds were drawn making the inside dim and foreboding. Starsky lay with his back to the door, an IV dripping slowly into his right arm and as Hutch approached Starsky turned his head.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stay out of trouble while I was gone. Don’t you ever listen?” Hutch teased as he moved to sit  gently on the edge of the bed.

Starsky rolled over onto his back, the motion unnaturally stiff. His face was bruised, and his lower lip split, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Hutch had envisioned on the trip from the airport, making him wonder if most of the blows had been to his lover’s body. Hitting him where he’s most vulnerable? His mind searched for a possible motive as it conjured up the face of James Gunther’s hate as the old man was led out of the courtroom to spend a very long time behind bars.

“I guess you need to take me with you next time. Obviously, I can’t be trusted,” Starsky replied, his voice sounding tired.

Hutch ran his hand over Starsky’s arm giving it an affectionate squeeze. “You doing okay? Have you seen the doctor yet this morning?”

“Yeah, I’m stiff and sore, a little colorful in places, but the Ultrasound they did a little while ago didn’t show I was leaking inside from anywhere. They’ll cut me loose this afternoon if I don’t do anything weird like giving them back their lunch.”

Starsky fumbled at the edge of the bed for the mechanism to raise the head, sighing as it obviously changed his position to one of greater comfort.

The door whooshed open and Hutch turned to see Dobey enter and move to the foot of the bed.

“Thanks for picking my partner up for me, Captain,” Starsky said with a lopsided grin that ended with a grimace as his fingers came up to gingerly touch his swollen lip.

“Well, he’s on his own to get home. I’ve got to get back to the office. Some of us have work to do,” Dobey said with false gruffness. “Take care, Dave. Give me a call if you do get discharged this afternoon.” Dobey patted Hutch’s back as he turned and started for the door.

“Don’t worry, Cap’n, we’ve get it covered,” Hutch said. “I talked to Huggy and he’s expecting a call when they spring me. He can get Hutch and me home. He feels so rotten this happened outside of his place, letting him help a little might take away the look on his face like somebody ran over his puppy.” Starsky gave a small salute as Dobey went through the door, then shifted slightly so his leg came into contact with Hutch’s hip where it rested on the bed without being noticeable. Hutch soaked up the warmth of the touch, impatiently wishing the door would finish closing so he could touch the way he wanted to…the way he needed to.

“Did you get a look at who it was?” Hutch queried with a grateful sigh hearing the door snick shut.

“Yeah, sort of. I…I know who it looked like when I saw them inside the bar, it’s just that’s not what they looked like when they were waiting in the alley.”

“What?” Hutch asked, shaking his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Starsky looked down, his cheeks slightly darkened. “I thought it was a woman,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“Inside The Pits. A foxy lady started coming on to me and I put some moves on her. She gave me her phone number and left with that look…you know, the one they give you when they really want you to come with them and they’ll wait outside? And then when I got outside, this guy started pounding on me…only…well, I think it was that woman.”

Hutch felt his lips thin as his mouth was drawn downward in a frown. “You were hitting on some chick, who turned out to be a transvestite who beat the crap out of you when you hit the alley,” Hutch summarized.

Starsky looked totally embarrassed.

“Must have been in good shape to take you down all alone,” Hutch countered, reaching gently for Starsky’s hand.

“She…ah, he kicked me in the gut and I went down like I’d been pole-axed,” Starsky admitted softly, unable to meet Hutch’s gaze. “I didn’t know if it had really hurt me or I was just scared shitless that it had. Everything else after that was purely defensive moves.”

“I still don’t get why, do you? Did he say anything?”

“Yeah, that was the weird part. He kept screaming in my face that it wasn’t fair. I couldn’t have it all. I tell ya’, Hutch, I got no clue what the hell he was talking about.”

“Had you ever seen him before?”

“Not that I know of.” Starsky smiled ruefully, “And I think I’d have noticed. She was really something…” Starsky’s cheek darkened with his embarrassment again. “I guess you must be I thinking, serves me right, huh?”

All the ire Hutch had been feeling blew away like dust on the wind. “I might not like the idea of you making the pass, but I’d have never wanted anything like this to happen to you. I don’t get off on seeing you hurt. I’ve spent enough hours with you, in a room like this one, to last a lifetime.”

“Yeah, I know. That was a cheap shot. You didn’t deserve that. I just… I just feel like such a chump! One solid shot and I went down like a cheap erector set,” Starsky said sourly.

“It’s the first time you’ve taken any full body contact. Of course it would scare you. Hell, if I had been there, it would have scared me, too.”

“We’ve got to hit Vinnie’s, maybe go a few rounds a couple times a week so I can work through this. I ain’t never had a glass jaw, I don’t want to have a glass gut either.”

“We will. I promise,” Hutch offered as his own gut twisted at the thought of being the one to throw the punches at Starsky’s vulnerable belly.

Starsky’s hand reached out to Hutch’s where it rested on the bed. Their fingers entwined familiarly. “I want to go home, Hutch. The doctor said I could go. Sweet-talk the nurses into hurrying up the discharge, will ya?” Starsky smiled, a world of promise in his dark blue eyes and Hutch was lost.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he answered, giving Starsky’ hand a last squeeze prior to dropping it and standing.

Before he’d even made it out of the room the door opened and a nurse walked in carrying a clipboard. “Are you ready to get out of here?” she asked brightly.

“Honey, you musta read my mind. I sure am,” Starsky answered with a bad Bogey imitation.

“Comes with the diploma, all of us can do it. Didn’t you know that?” she passed her clipboard to Starsky, producing a pen out of her pocket. “Sign here and I’ll turn you over to your friend there.”

“Thanks.” Starsky quickly scrawled across the paper like he expected her to change her mind. “I know Huggy said he’d come, but I think it would be quicker just to call a cab,” Starsky addressed Hutch as the nurse took the papers and left.

Starsky threw back the sheets and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. “My clothes are here somewhere…”

Hutch began searching in the drawers and closet until he finally found a plastic bag with the clothes in question. “Here you go,” he said as he offered the bag’s contents, then reached around to untie the back of Starsky’s gown. His eyes took in the bruises on Starsky’s torso, a few dangerously close to the incisional scar that ran the midline of his partner’s body.

By the time Hutch had helped Starsky dress, the door opened and the cheerful nurse from before stood with a wheelchair, waiting. With one arm resting guardingly across his middle in a pose that Hutch was instantly suspicious of, Starsky moved cautiously from bed to chair and sat down with a soft grunt.

“Don’t think it hasn’t been fun, sweetheart…” Starsky hammed it up for his willing audience of one.

“Take care, and if you have any questions, or if you start feeling ill, let your doctor know immediately. Remember the signs the doctor warned you to look for…? Go on, recite them back to me.”

“I’m to call him and come back immediately if I start having abdominal pain, nausea or vomiting when I get home,” Starsky dutifully recited.

“Or, dizziness when you first wake up or after you’ve been sitting or lying down.” She looked at Hutch and waited until he nodded his understanding. “Okay, off we go then.”

“I’ll go on down to the lobby and call for a cab,” Hutch said as he held the door open for the nurse wheeling Starsky.

“Don’t leave without me, “Starsky teased.

“Not a chance…you’re springing for the cab,” Hutch smiled his reply as he turned away to take the stairs down rather than waiting for the busy elevator.

* * *

Once they arrived at the apartment they shared and the taxi had driven away, Hutch slipped his arm around his partner and assumed some of his weight as they walked to the door. At the entrance was the small overnight bag that Hutch had purchased for his trip. Hutch reached down to pick it up when Starsky stopped him.

“Easy, buddy. Check it out first.”

“I left it in Dobey’s car. He probably dropped it off on his way back to the station.”

“Humor me, okay?”

Hutch kneeled down and ran his hands gently and carefully down the sides of the bag. With exaggerated slowness he pulled the zipper on the bag down, opening it. “Nothing but my dirty underwear and socks. Happy?” Hutch zipped the bag closed and stood, urging Starsky in through the front door.

“Yeah, I’m happy, smart ass. So forgive me for not wanting to see your teeth blown across the street.” Starsky moved inside as rapidly as his bruises would allow.

Hutch followed him in and locked the door behind him, dropping the small case on the floor as he did. “Want me to grab some pillows and make you a nest on the couch in front of the tv?”

Starsky stood in the center of the room, looking a little undecided. When he finally turned to Hutch, his face was the picture of misery. “I’m scared, Hutch…”

Hutch crossed to his partner in an instant, all hints of earlier teasing abandoned. “Hey, we’re home, you’re safe. I’d never let anything happen to you, if I could help it.”

“I know that. It isn’t here and now I’m scared of.

Hutch…what if you’d been with me in that alley? What if we were trying to take a couple of wise guys down and I got a kick in the gut and folded when you needed me to hang in and take my guy out and back you up. What the hell kind of back up am I gonna be? I’d be curled up in a ball trying to keep from taking any hits and that’d leave you hung out to dry. I could get you killed. How am I gonna live with that?” Starsky asked miserably.

“You could never hang me out to dry, babe. I have no doubts about that. You’ll always do whatever it takes to back me up and keep us both safe. You’ve only been back a few weeks, you’re bound to be a little skittish. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Hutch enveloped Starsky in his arms, gently drawing Starsky against him, shaken by his normally confident partner’s sudden self-doubt.

“I’d die before I put you at risk. I swear…”

“I know you would. You’ve proven that more than once, partner. Don’t beat yourself up over this, babe. You’ve got enough real bruises to heal from without taking on anymore.” Hutch drew back taking Starsky’s shoulders in his large hands. “Let me get you comfortable on the couch and I’ll fix us something to eat. Deal? You’ve got to be hungry since you escaped out of that place before the noon serving of mystery meat.”

Starsky smiled at the joke and let himself be drawn to the couch, seemingly comforted by Hutch’s fussing almost as much as it was a comfort to Hutch himself to fuss.

By the time the food was ready Starsky was dozing. Hutch stopped pouring the soup to look at his lover. The mood was broken when the phone rang. Hutch snatched it up mid-ring, trying to catch it before it woke his sleeping partner.

“Hutchinson,” Hutch spoke softly, moving as close to the greenhouse door as the phone cord would allow.

“We’ve got a lead,” Dobey’s voice told him. “When I got back to work Huggy’s waitress, Anita had dropped off a present. It seems she remembered the person in question was wearing a particular shade of lipstick. She found two glasses she thought were the same color when she went in to clean up this morning. So she wrapped them up in newspapers and dropped them off. Forensics was able to lift several really clear prints from them.”

“Have you gotten an ID back yet?” Hutch asked, fearing to hope.

“Carlton Anderson. Career Army until three years ago. Decorated Viet Nam veteran. Seems he got caught in a personally compromising position with a junior officer.” Dobey hesitated and Hutch jumped in.

“A male junior officer?”

“Apparently.”

“And?” Hutch prompted.

“It earned him a court martial. According to what we could find out, the junior officer intimated that he’d been coerced by Anderson’s rank and was not a totally willing participant.” Dobey sighed and Hutch could hear the creaking of his chair in protest as the big man must have changed positions before continuing, “According to the VA he was hospitalized during the court martial for a suicide attempt.”

“Sounds like he was unstable, at least then.”

“Maybe.”

“Unless he was gay all along and just got careless,” Hutch finished with a covert glance at his still sleeping lover.

“We got an address. Chandler and Diggers followed up on it. There was no one home. They presented the search warrant to the landlord and checked out the place. They found an outfit that sounds like what Starsky said the girl he followed out of The Pits was wearing. It had a few rips in it and some bloodstains. They bagged it and it’s being checked now. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Has an assault warrant been issued?”

“In the works right now. The APB had already gone out as armed and dangerous. The descriptions are for Anderson in male or female attire. But if he isn’t home, I’m not comfortable thinking he’s split and everything will be okay. You guys watch yourselves.”

“Do we have a photo of Anderson from the Army?” Hutch asked.

“Yes, and I’ve got a police artist doing a drawing of it adding female attributes so we have an idea of what to watch for however he may be walking around,” Dobey said.

“When you get the pictures and they start circulating, could you have a cruiser in our vicinity drop a couple by? Starsky’s asleep right now and I don’t want to leave him alone to come down to get them. His doctor still wants him watched pretty closely.”

“Sure, that’s no problem, I’ll get them to you. You stay put. There will be some extra cruising around your place as a precaution anyway.”

“You don’t think this is a personal thing, do you?” Hutch asked. “I mean, no reason for Starsky to be targeted other than just an opportunistic random thing…”

“I don’t know, and won’t until Starsky sees both the pictures and can maybe remember something specific…or unless you recognize the guy. It could be someone after Starsky for something personal, but they could just as easily be after you and using your partner to get you out in the open.” Dobey paused and let out a huge sigh. “Let’s not forget this could have been a paid hit and the assault and battery only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Yeah, I had already thought of that. It’s just this cross-dressing thing that has me confused. Why go to all the trouble?”

“Maybe that’s the very kind of trouble they want to stir up.”

Hutch could hear muffled voices in the background, but was  unable to hear clearly enough to discern anything.

“I’ll keep you posted, and you stay sharp. Call for back up if you even think there’s the slightest hint of a problem. Is that clear, Detective?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. We’ll stay low and just hang out here the rest of today and through the weekend. Starsky has to see the doctor on Monday to find out when he’s cleared to come back to work. Unless you need me, I was going to ask for that day off…”

“Call me after he sees the doctor. I’ll decide if I need you in or not,” Dobey ordered.

“You got it. ‘Bye, Captain, and thanks again.”

Hutch turned away from the open back door and walked into the kitchen to hang up the phone. When he looked to his lover his saw Starsky was awake. Large liquid blue eyes locked on his. “That was Dobey,” Hutch explained.

“Did he have something?”

“Anita found a couple of glasses with lipstick like your girl was wearing. They got an ID from the prints on one of them.”

“Who?” Starsky struggled to sit up, his arm again going protectively around his middle.

“Carlton Anderson,” Hutch reported. “The name mean anything to you?”

Starsky thought for several seconds, shaking his head. “Dobey’s sending over some sketches, maybe that’ll help. How’s vegetable soup and grilled cheese sound?”

“Like my mother,” Starsky replied with a slow smile.

* * *

It was several hours later when a half-hearted game of chess was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hutch rose smoothly to his feet, sliding his Magnum out of the holster where it hung on a coat tree by the front door. “Who is it?”

“Diggers,” came the reply as Hutch stooped down to look out the peephole. With a nod of recognition he opened the door.

“Here are the sketches of the suspect.” Diggers held out several copies, which Hutch took and passed off a set to Starsky, who was sitting up on the couch carefully so as not to disturb the chess pieces on the coffee table. “Hi, Starsky, how ya doin’?”

“A little sore and a lot embarrassed,” Starsky answered truthfully.

“Well, don’t be. He probably could have taken any of us. Green Beret, black belt in more than one style of martial arts. From reading his military record, he probably could have killed you with the first blow.”

“If you’re trying to cheer me up, you’re falling a little flat, buddy.” Starsky’s grin softened his admonishment. He rifled through the pages until he came to a blow-up of the suspect’s military ID.

Hutch heard Starsky’s sharp intake of a breath and gave his partner his complete attention. “What? You recognize the guy?”

“Yeah, seeing him like this, I do.”

“You’ve seen him before? As a man or a woman?” Hutch asked.

“As a man, for thirteen months,” Starsky answered tightly.

“Huh?” Diggers questioned as he stepped closer to look over Starsky’s shoulder.

“He was my commanding officer in Nam,” Starsky answered.

“No shit?” Diggers exclaimed.

“No shit!” Starsky agreed. “Anderson’s such a common last name, it didn’t register. If I ever even knew what the “C” stood for. I… I don’t think so.”

“Did you know he was in town?” Hutch asked.

Starsky shook his head as he continued to stare at the photo. He looked at Hutch, confusion obvious on his face. He stood slowly and walked past Hutch and Diggers to go toward the bathroom. Hutch followed with his eyes until he heard the quiet close of the door.

“Ah… thanks for bringing these by. I’ll talk to him later and see what he can remember that will help. If we come up with anything we’ll give you a call.”

“Right. I’ve got some other leads to follow up on. If my partner and I turn up anything, we’ll give you a ring.”

“Good, thanks.” Hutch turned to show Diggers to the door and, as the big man took a step through, Hutch stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m glad you and Chandler have this case. Thanks again.”

“No sweat…” Diggers glanced toward the back of the house. “I’m sorry it turned out to be somebody he knew, you know? It makes it rough.”

“Yeah, I know…” Hutch gave Diggers forearm a final pat as he left and Hutch closed and locked the door. “I’m sorry, too.”

Hutch went back to the couch and sat down heavily, his eyes roaming over the chess pieces on the board, but his mind a million miles away from the game. After a short time he felt a warm hand settle on the back of his neck and massage the tension away just a little.

“Go ahead and ask…” Starsky invited as he sat down next to Hutch.

“We went out with girls just the other night to keep up the sham. Why did you need to go out again?” Hutch avoided Starsky’s gaze, knowing how clearly the pain in his own heart would now be mirrored on his face.

“I was trying to take advantage of you being gone. You were so upset about the other night, I thought I’d pick up some chick in a public place and spare you the grief of knowing about it.”

“You doing it behind my back now?” Hutch asked, the thought alone enough to make the pain in his chest worsen.

“No! No, I’m not doing nothing behind your back…I just didn’t want to rub your nose in it either.”

“You’ll excuse me if I’m having trouble understanding the difference,” Hutch replied tightly.

“We can’t come out!” Starsky exploded, the hand that had been massaging his neck jerked away as if burned. “Why can’t you accept that?”

“Because I don’t want to have my life and who I love be something that slinks around in the dark like it’s dirty.” Hutch turned to look fully at his partner.

You’re not being realistic. It can’t be any other way, not with us being cops and living in LA.” Starsky’s voice had that strident tone to it that spoke of the stubborn streak that was sometimes unbending.

Hutch stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower. I don’t want to argue with you. It’s seems like that’s all we’ve done lately.”

“It could have just as easily been you that got beat up. Have you thought of that?” Starsky asked at Hutch’s retreating back.

“What?” Hutch halted and turned. “You think I would have tried a pick up at Huggy’s and got cold-cocked?”

“It makes sense now. I’ll bet you a month’s pay he overheard me and Huggy talking about us and the things I was worried about. All that stuff he was yelling while he was hitting me. He was gay, Hutch. Even when I knew him. I guess Uncle Sam finally noticed and threw him out.” Starsky advanced slowly, his voice  becoming harder. “He was a good soldier. The ones of us who made it home, owe him for the privilege. He was a good man. The Army was everything to him. He loved it. It isn’t fair that what he did in the privacy of his own quarters or on leave should have cost him everything. But it did, and it looks like he went a little nuts under the pressure of it. I don’t want to see that happen to us. I don’t want to see us lose everything and wind up hating each other because of it. Then we’d have nothing at all.”

Starsky moved a little closer, his hand a little hesitant as it reached out to touch Hutch’s chest. “If we have to stay in the I closet until the day we retire, I don’t care, as long as we’re still together. I know you don’t want to feel like you’re hiding something beautiful and important. I’d shout out how much I love you from the roof of Parker Center if I didn’t know it would get us fired or killed. But it will, and that’s a fact. Hutch, it doesn’t have to be the only fact we live with. I love you and I need to know you believe that no matter what.” Starsky’s eyes met his own and searched the depths. Hutch could only wonder what his lover saw reflected there.

“I’m trying to, I swear to God. I’m trying. I know you love me, that’s easy…it’s the no matter what that I’m struggling with.” Hutch broke away from those deep blue eyes and resumed his trek to the shower.

Hutch let the hot water fall on his back and leaned his arm against the cool tile. His mind seemed as fragmented as the water drops that splattered in all directions. His stomach churned and the food he’d eaten earlier sat like a lead ball in his middle.

Is Starsky right? He pondered his partner’s seeming surety against his own confusion. Is the job that important? He knew it was to Starsky. His partner had gone through the rigors of hell to get back on the streets. If not cops, then what? It had been so long since he’d considered anything else; he couldn’t think of any alternatives. Would anything less be just a compromise that Starsky would grow to resent after a time? Would it really be the blow our relationship couldn’t recover from? How is that any different than how I feel about the games and the lies and the women? Hutch turned to let the water run over his face, suddenly feeling too depressed to think about any of it anymore.

* * *

Saturday morning dawned with the sun getting a slow start in burning off a thick marine layer. As Hutch rolled over and out of bed he gave the fog a nod of welcome…it fit his mood. Starsky mumbled a little at the jostling of the bed, then snuggled more deeply under the covers and was still. Hutch plodded softly to the kitchen to start coffee. With a glance at the clock he called the station. When the watch commander answered, Hutch took the phone as far away from the hall leading to the bedroom as he could make the cord stretch. “Is Diggers in, please? This is Detective Hutchinson.”

“I’ll connect you. How’s your partner? Is he doing okay?”

“Yeah. He’s sore, but he’ll be fine. Thanks for asking, Kelly.”

Hutch waited for a few moments and then was connected.

“Homicide, Diggers.”

“Hey, good morning. I took a chance you might be in today. Have you gotten a current address for Anderson?”

“Yeah. We’re going to pay Mr. Anderson a little visit this morning and hope to catch him home this time. Want to come along, don’t’cha?” Diggers teased.

“You bet, but I’m not sure I’d trust myself. I know you’ll do everything by the book. Give us a call if you connect and bring him in. Sore and slow moving or not, my partner would be there with bells on for a line-up ID.”

“I’ll give you a call one way or the other. If he isn’t there, then you need to know so you guys can watch yourselves. Take care.” The line went dead and Hutch slowly walked back to the kitchen wall and hung up as well.

When he turned he was surprised to see a sleep-tousled Starsky standing where the hall and kitchen joined.

“They got him?” Starsky asked, his voice ominously flat.

“Not yet. They have an address to check out. He wasn’t home when they went by yesterday. Diggers said he’d call if it paid off.”

“They won’t be able to take him in unless he’s willing to go.”

“Come on, Starsk. You make this guy sound like some sort of superman.”

“We used to call him “Spooky” behind his back. I swear the guy had eyes in the back of his head. He never missed a thing. He could move through the bush like a whisper…never even bend a leaf.”

“Starsky…I know you’ve got a history with this guy. Obviously you had a lot of respect for him as your commanding officer…but he assaulted you. It was unprovoked and vicious. Given what you’re healing from inside, he almost hurt you badly enough to send you back to surgery. He could have killed you, for God’s sake! When they pick him up he’ll be charged with assaulting a police officer and attempted murder… you aren’t thinking about softening that, I hope.”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking. I…I just…I just keep seeing his face, so full of pain and hate. I remember the man he was. That man…didn’t deserve to end up this way.”

“Maybe this will get him the help he needs, huh? Is it a little easier if you think of it along those lines?” Hutch asked, wanting to do whatever he could to erase the look of sadness on his lover’s face.

Starsky didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he just turned without comment and walked to the bathroom. Hutch heard the sound of the shower starting and with a sigh returned to his earlier attempt at starting the coffee.

Hutch waited a few minutes after he heard the shower stop, then took his cup and one for his partner into the bedroom.

Starsky was wrapped in a towel that rode loose and dangerously low on his slim hips. He was bending over the dresser drawer in search of underwear as Hutch entered. Setting Starsky’s cup on the dresser in front of him, he nuzzled into Starsky’s wet neck, inhaling deeply. “Ah…” Hutch let his breath out. “That’s my favorite fragrance…wet Starsky,” Hutch murmured appreciatively against the warmth of his lover’s skin.

“You’re a goof,” Starsky replied, but looked pleased at the compliment none the less.

“How are the aches and pains?” Hutch asked as his eyes raked over Starsky’s colorful torso.

“Better since the hot water hit ’em.” Starsky dropped the towel and shinnied into his tiny briefs. After he’d arranged himself he straightened and smiled softly at Hutch. “Look, I’m sorry about before… this just has me rattled a little, I guess. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s okay. I guess I know how you must feel. I remember I wasn’t the clearest thinker when we were in Vegas and met up with Jack. Old loyalties are sacred cows.” Hutch paused to be sure Starsky accepted the sincerity of his comment.

“Hey, what do you say to going out for breakfast? IHOP’s got that all-you-can-eat thing going. I’m starved,” Hutch suggested and was glad to see Starsky give him a real smile at the prospect.

“You buying?” Starsky asked as he reached into the closet for a clean pair of jeans and a shirt.

“Sure. Give me five minutes to jump in the shower,” Hutch answered, leaning over to give Starsky a quick kiss.

* * *

They drove the Torino to IHOP and managed to get inside and seated before a very large family arrived, which Hutch observed pretty much bottlenecked everyone else’s service for the better part of a half-hour. They gave the waitress their order and waited for the food. Hutch did what he did best, Starsky-watched.

“What?” Starsky finally broke the silence.

“Wha…what?” Hutch replied.

“You’ve been staring at me as if any second I’m gonna disappear.”

“Just enjoying the view, babe,” Hutch answered truthfully. “I… I ah…couldn’t help but notice…” Hutch’s inner voice was screaming at him to stop and not ruin a pretty nice morning, so far.

“Notice what?” Starsky questioned.

“You didn’t…d…d…didn’t flirt with the waitress,” Hutch reluctantly confessed.

“Is that what has you wired?” Starsky shook his head, then chuckled. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Oh-oh.” Hutch interrupted. “Owl” he exclaimed as he felt Starsky’s sharp kick to his shins under the table

“That’s what you get, smart-ass. No, I meant in the hospital and at home…about fidelity and being in or out?” Starsky looked furtively around the busy restaurant. “I…I’m not ashamed of you or us, and I don’t want to do anything that cheapens what we have.”

Hutch felt his heart swell and he let all the love he had in his heart be visible on his face.

“No more pretending. I won’t go out with anybody anymore,” Starsky finished hurriedly.

Hutch’s smile became so wide it threatened to split his face. “You’re sure…?”

“Hell, yes. You’re more than I can handle, who am I kidding?” Starsky reached across the table and gave Hutch’s hand a squeeze.

“What about work or IA?”

“We’ll be careful, just like we always have been. As for IA? Well, let’s take it as it comes.” Starsky’s mouth twisted in a smile. “No pun intended.”

“Like hell…” Hutch added with a smile of his own.

“I mean it. I guess it took me a little while to see that you’re the most important thing in my life. I had to get my head straight on it not being about the job or me. And while I was doing that, it suddenly hit me that you really did think I was voting for the smoke screen because I wasn’t really committed.” Starsky looked up then, holding Hutch’s eyes with such intensity it took his breath away.

“There are a lot of things we can’t be sure of in this life. I already know the ’til death do us part stuff doesn’t necessarily stick,” Hutch began, choosing his words carefully. “And given our line of work, there are no guarantees about finishing the shift still breathing. But I knew I was sure about what I felt for you. It feels as solid as the ground I walk on…like gravity. Once I faced it for what it was, there was no getting away from it.” Hutch looked down at his napkin.

“But you didn’t feel that sure of me?” Starsky asked softly, with no censure in the tone.

“You died, babe. I already had a little taste of what going on without you might be like. I think that made a difference somehow. Maybe I didn’t think you saw me necessarily in quite the same way.”

Starsky’s eyebrows rose at that and he reached for Hutch’s hand again and held on. “You’re as necessary as my next heartbeat,” Starsky said solemnly. “I don’t know if you put that in the same category as gravity, but believe me when I tell you…I ain’t going anywhere. I’m in it for the long haul. As long as you’ll have me.” Starsky brought the hand he held up to his lips and kissed it. “Is that solid enough for you?”

“Yes. That’s solid enough.”

Their orders arrived and they ate, enjoying the food as they shared soft whispers and smiles. The sexual promise charged the atmosphere more with every bite.

Passing on seconds, Hutch tossed some money on the table for a tip and extended his hand to help Starsky stand, his first steps a little stiff from sitting in one place for so long. The long loving looks continued even as they stopped at the counter to pay their check on the way out.

* * *

They drove home, Hutch navigating the Torino easily in the light mid-morning traffic while Starsky tuned the radio from its usual oldies station to one that played nothing but dedications and love songs. Holding hands to the sweet music for the  remainder of the ride filled the car with a tangible peace.

They arrived home and entered, arms around each other as they crossed the threshold. As the front door closed, Hutch took Starsky into his arms and kissed him. Their mouths melted to each other, tongues caressing unhurriedly in a dance that spoke of timeless love more than passion of the here and now.

The sound of a round being chambered froze both men as experience easily registered the warning. Hutch turned, placing his body in front of his lover’s protectively as he reached for his Magnum.

“Don’t,” the disembodied voice called from the dimness of the living room. “You’d be dead before you could clear the holster.”

The click of the table lamp bathed the room in a soft light clearly illuminating the intruder. A man a few years older than they were sat still as a stone in the overstuffed living room chair. He wore the dress uniform of an Army officer, the front of the jacket heavy with campaign ribbons and medals.

Starsky stepped slightly to the side, bringing his body to a rigid stance of attention. “Captain Anderson,” Starsky said.

“Major…”the man interrupted. “It was Major Anderson when they threw me away like I was outdated C-rations,” Anderson said bitterly.

“I was sorry to hear that, Sir,” Starsky offered sincerely.

“What are you doing here, Anderson?” Hutch asked.

“I wanted to be sure Starsky was okay. I didn’t realize you’d been hurt previously until I read the write-up in the Times about your mugging. I came to apologize to you. I was wrong to do that. I was never really angry at you.”

“You could have killed him,” Hutch said hotly.

“No…” Anderson answered with a small smile. “If I had been trying to kill him, he’d have been dead with the first blow. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Sir. With the first blow.”

“Who are you angry at then?” Hutch asked, his tone less threatening.

“None of your business. It was personal and it’s been taken care of.”

“What do you mean?” Starsky asked. “What have you done, Major?”

“Need to know, Sergeant. And you don’t need to know.”

“Then why are you here? You could have checked on Starsky’s condition with a phone call. Why break in here to see?” Hutch edged closer to the chair, trying to angle his body in front of Starsky’s.

“I’m not a coward. I wanted to see him…face him to say I was sorry…to let him ream me a new one if he wanted to. I deserve it.”

“What did I do to set you off that night? If it was personal, and you’re telling me now that wasn’t the case. Why did you lose it?”

“I overheard you talking to the skinny black man,” Anderson addressed Starsky. “Talking about your partner to him.” Anderson looked down to his lap, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in his dress pants. “You were complaining that he wanted to stop hiding your relationship. I heard you say that…and I just…I was so envious of you at that moment, I could have killed you to have what you were complaining about. What I could never have and you were too stupid to appreciate.” Anderson stood and walked slowly about the room. He paused at intervals to look at items, books on the shelf, photos, and knickknacks. “You two lived here long?” he asked.

“Since right after Starsky was shot. I sold my apartment and bought this larger one,” Hutch answered.

“I gave up my place to come here out of the hospital. It made sense financially,” Starsky paused, then continued, “And it made sense personally, too. We’ve been here ever since.”

“Yes, I can see where that would seem very natural, you being partners and all.” Anderson moved back in front of the side chair and carefully sat down. “Probably no one even considered looking for any other reason why you two were living together…no reason at all, especially if you were still dating ladies to keep up the smokescreen. Very smart. I should have thought of that.” Anderson sighed, sounding almost regretful.

“What happened, Major?” Starsky asked.

“I was always very careful. Never approached anyone. You know that. I waited for them to approach me. I never fraternized with non-coms no matter how interested. Then… on leave in Guam, I met… I met someone different. Someone special. His name was Kevin, and he was from Florida. A pilot,” Anderson’s face broke into a soft smile at the memory. “We had a great time in Guam, and if I’d been smart, I’d have let it go at that. But I…”

“Fell in love,” Hutch finished for him.

“Yeah, and Uncle Sam takes a dim view of that. I was so high on being with him, I got careless. Some of the wrong people began to suspect and it didn’t take long for them to get more than enough incriminating evidence against us. He was a junior officer and CID approached him first. His father was a retired full bird. Kevin was carrying on the grand tradition and couldn’t risk his old man’s wrath, I guess. He…he accused me of coercing him into the sexual liaison. Gave testimony that it was not what he wanted to do but felt forced by a superior officer and unable to say no.” Anderson stood quickly from his chair and paced sharply between his chair and the window.

“God, he made me sound like a rapist,” Anderson continued. “He made what we had so sordid…when it had been so beautiful.” Anderson sighed and his shoulders slumped a bit. “He got off with a transfer and a reprimand, and I…I…” Anderson stopped as if unable to vocalize it.

“You got a one-way ticket home in disgrace,” Starsky finished for him.

Anderson turned and gave Starsky a humorless grin. “Loving him cost me everything. My career, my pension, my reputation… you’d think I’d have never wanted to see him again, wouldn’t you?” Anderson’s smile gave way to a mirthless snort. “But no, I had it bad and I kept track of him. He took a job as a pilot with the airlines. I found out he was based out of LAX so I came out here. I’ve run into him a few times, but he never even acknowledged me. It’s like I didn’t exist. He’d pass me in a restaurant or in a bar and act as if he didn’t even know who I was.”

Anderson went to stand at the window. “I couldn’t take it anymore so I started dressing in drag when I’d go out cruising to find him. He didn’t even recognize me. We even danced a few times at this one club.” Anderson turned to face the two detectives.  “Isn’t that pathetic?”

Anderson turned back to the window without waiting for an answer. “God, how much lower could I sink? I finally couldn’t stand it anymore. I went to his apartment and confronted him. I needed him to know what loving him had cost me. But you see, that was only part of it. I needed him to know I was willing to pay the price if he’d just be with me again.”

Anderson straightened and turned slowly to face Starsky. “He laughed at me. Told me I was an elongated one-night stand during hard times. He said now that he was back in the world he didn’t need to swing that way anymore.” Anderson’s face twisted with the pain of the remembered conversation. “The fucker had the balls to tell me he was straight and I had to get over him. He wasn’t interested.”

Anderson’s voice rose as he relived the rage he’d felt at I that moment. “He had taken everything that was important to me and now he wasn’t interested?” Anderson screamed, both fists tightly clenched. “I lost it…totally lost it. I hit him. He went down like a rock. Never did meet a fly-boy who could fight worth a damn. He went down but I kept hitting him. I didn’t stop until his face was just as big a useless mess as my whole life had turned into. Then I left.

I went home and took a shower and changed clothes. I heard about a mysterious assault on the news, a brutal killing…probably the work of a psycho.” Anderson stood very still, drawing himself up to his full height, making him a shade taller than Hutch. “I killed him. I knew he was dead when I left his apartment. I didn’t need the news to tell me.” Anderson’s voice broke. “I loved him, but I killed him. He took my life, so I took his. It was only fair, wasn’t it? They fragged officers in the bush for a lot less. It’s simple there, black and white, like war. Things back in the world are all mixed up shades of gray. Nothing’s simple.”

“When did you kill him, Major?” Starsky asked softly as he moved closer.

Anderson looked up sharply, his gaze a little confused. “That night. I went home and cleaned up, got dressed and went to The Pits for a couple of drinks. I was sitting at the table just down from the booth you were in. I’d seen both of you in there before. I recognized you, Sergeant, right away and you…” Anderson turned to Hutch. “You reminded me so much of Kevin, all that blond hair and tan skin…”

The major turned back to Starsky. “When I heard you talking I knew who you meant, and I couldn’t let you get away with having what I wanted so desperately.” Anderson straightened his uniform jacket before continuing. “I had no right to butt in, but I was so angry and I’d killed him…so you see I lost again, and you had it all and didn’t even know it. Or if you did, you didn’t appreciate what you had.”

“You’re wrong, major,” Hutch said. “He knows what we have. We both do. Believe me, and we appreciate it.”

“What are you going to do now, Sir?” Starsky asked, placing himself between the military man and the path to the front door.

“I’m leaving. I’ve said what I came for. I needed to set the record straight. Now I’ve got one more thing to take care of and I’m finished.”

“What’s that?” Hutch asked as he stepped into place forming the third angle of a triangle between the three men.

Anderson looked from one man to the other, then gave a short laugh. “Oh, I think you know. Don’t get any ideas about stopping me, either of you. I made my bed, so to speak, now I’ll lay in it for a very long time. What’s one more disgrace, huh? After what I’ve already been through, taking my own life is almost anticlimactic. Tragic war hero and all that. It won’t give the newspapers much or for very long, but maybe a small story on the back page of the local section, don’t you think?”

“You don’t have to do that, Major. You can get some help.”

“Oh, please. I’ve been dead since I walked out of that military court six years ago. Today will only be a formality.” Anderson took a step forward, then halted as neither of the two detectives gave way.

“I don’t want to hurt either of you, and I’m sure you’d rather I not blow my brains out all over your new carpet. So get out of the way and forget I was here.”

“You’ve confessed to a murder; you know we can’t do that,” Hutch said, his hand sliding closer to his Magnum.

“So you’ll shoot me? Is that meant to be a deterrent to a suicidal man? Don’t insult my intelligence. If you draw your weapon, I’ll draw mine, but it won’t be you I’ll shoot…it’ll be your partner. Now, does that change things?” Anderson’s hand slipped inside his jacket and pulled out an automatic, which he pointed at Starsky’s chest.

“Put the gun down, Sir. You came here to apologize for hurting me, you won’t shoot me now,” Starsky said stepping closer.

“Starsky, stay back,” Hutch warned holding his Magnum rock steady in Anderson’s direction.

Anderson swung his gun to aim at Hutch. “Maybe I was thinking of shooting the wrong one. Maybe you’ll be inclined to appreciate the lover you have if he’s put in peril, hmmm?” Anderson taunted Starsky.

“Don’t!” Starsky said sharply. “What we have and how we handle it is none of your business. Take your finger off that trigger.”

“You’d both be willing to take the hit for the other, wouldn’t you? Amazing. I didn’t think that level of sacrificial love really existed. You restore my faith in fairy tales, if you’ll pardon the pun.” Anderson looked slowly between the two men. “I really am done here. You should have let me walk out. I warned you about the carpet. Remember that.”

Anderson drew his gun quickly up to his throat and pulled the trigger. The concussion of the blast threw his head back, a bright spray of blood erupting from the gaping hole where his neck used to be. The uniformed body crumpled like a rag doll to the floor, dead before the body fully reclined there.

Starsky dashed forward, falling to his knees on the floor. “Damn you! Why’d you have to do it like this?”

“I guess he really felt like he had nothing to live for. What would you have wanted for him? Spending the rest of his life in prison or some nut house?” Hutch asked, tugging at Starsky’s arm to raise him from the floor.

“No, no, he’d have hated that worse than dying…” Starsky tore his eyes away from the gory body. “Hutch,” he said reaching out to hold Hutch’s upper arms in a tight grip. “I do appreciate you. I swear to God I do. I love what we have together, and I don’t want to…”

“Sshhhh. You told me already. I believed you then. I get it now, honest. I know we have to be discreet, but the fact that you’re willing to stop with the pretense is enough for now. I mean that.” Hutch turned Starsky’s face away as he started to look at his ex-commander once more. “Don’t look anymore. He’s not us and we’re not going to wind up like he did. Don’t internalize his tragedy. What we have is a hell of a lot more solid than that. He loved the wrong person, and I’m sorry it worked out for him the way it did. But we’ve had years to fall in love, not a year-long tour of duty in hell like he had. It is possible…for us…it’ll work, we’ll make it work.”

“You saying we can have it all?” Starsky asked, allowing his gaze to be diverted.

“Yeah, we can…” Hutch lowered his head and let his lips meet Starsky’s wanting to take away the bone deep pain that Hutch felt radiated from his lover. “We already do have it all, babe. All I’ll ever want.”

“Me, too.” Starsky replied against Hutch’s lips. When they broke apart Starsky went to the phone to call in the suicide.

Hutch took the Mexican blanket off the back of the couch and draped it respectfully over the dead officer’s body. All the plans he’d had for his lover’s body would have to wait through the tedious hours of a crime scene’s investigation. But at least they had the time…together…in or out…they had the rest of their lives.