Ozzie and Harriet

On the way to work, although something’s changed.

Neither one of them knew that this vacation would change their lives. It was just another week off, perfectly natural to spend it together. The drive home was only about eight hours but they did it in two days because by unspoken agreement, they couldn’t stand to be away from each other’s bodies that long. It was a combination unknown to each of them: tremendous strength, unexpected softness, the loss of control, and the only way they let all that happen was the total willingness to trust unconditionally. In most ways, the act was a foregone conclusion, but it still was almost overwhelming.

So waking up Monday morning, knowing it was time to go back to a world that wouldn’t accept their new love, was a little uneasy at first. To share a shower? Didn’t you buy any peanut butter? How am I supposed to go a whole day without kissing you? But they worked it out. Until they opened the door to leave. Then, suddenly, Starsky shut it hard and turned to face his partner.

“One of the strongest memories I have of my dad is when he would kiss my ma goodbye every morning.”

Hutch cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“No matter what, he always kissed her at the front door before he left. Even when he was late, he made it a point to kiss her goodbye. It was like … you never know …”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, c’mere Blondie,” Starsky said as he leaned toward his lover. “Hmmm.”

By unspoken agreement, the kiss was not passionate, but fit the situation perfectly.

Separating, Hutch said, “I just have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Who’s Ozzie and who’s Harriet?”