Starsky Fills In

96

Starsky babysits for Rosie Dobey, until disaster befalls.

 

Written for the 2023 SHareCon Zine.

---

Starsky was not the first person Edith Dobey thought of to ask to fill in when Rosie’s regular babysitter couldn’t take her for the day. But Captain Dobey had to work, Cal, who was old enough to watch Rosie normally, was away at a Scout Jamboree, and Edith had to go out for an important meeting with her church group. The church ladies themselves were normally her first fall back to ask for babysitting help, but obviously they were all occupied, too.

Rosie, being nine now, was almost, but just not quite, old enough to be left alone. Starsky was almost, but just not quite, healed enough from Gunther’s hit to go back to work, and was getting bored being left alone all day while Hutch was gone. It seemed like a perfect match. So Starsky, who had recently been medically cleared to drive again, pulled up in the Torino, also recently restored, and hopped out.

Edith met him at the door. “Thank you so much, dear, for this. I don’t know what else I would have done. And Rosie loves being with you so much.”

“And I love being with Rosie,” Starsky said. Catching sight of her he added, “Hey, where’s my girl?”

Rosie ran up and gave him a hug. “Hi Uncle Dave! Wanna have a tea party?”

“Sure Schweetheart! I’d love to!”

Rosie ran to get her tea set, and Edith filled Starsky in on what he needed to know, finishing up with, “If anything happens, you won’t be able to get hold of me, because the church hall telephone has been out of order for days. But of course you can call Harold.”

“We won’t have any problems. Will we Rosie?” he said as Rosie came skipping back up.

“No, I know just what to do whatever happens! Daddy taught me everything!” Rosie said proudly. “Come on, Uncle Dave. I have the tea things all ready!”

So Starsky hugged Edith goodbye and went off to the living room, where Rosie had carefully arranged a small china tea set on her little table, brought out from her bedroom, and set out her teddy bear and one of her dolls in two of the chairs.

Starsky squeezed himself into one of the unoccupied chairs. It was a tight fit. “Pour me a cup of your best, darlin’” he said.

Rosie giggled and poured milk from the teapot.

“Here you go Uncle Dave, and would you pass Teddy’s cup?” Starsky solemnly passed the bear’s cup to her, and she poured for him too. “Cream and sugar?”

“Yes please,” Starsky said in a growly voice, answering for the teddy bear.

Rosie giggled again. “And you, Mrs. Chrissy,” she said to the doll. “Would you like a cup?”

“Oh yes, thank you very much,” Starsky answered in a high squeaky voice.

This time Rosie laughed out loud. “And would you like a tea biscuit?” she asked, putting a ladyfinger cookie on Mrs. Chrissy’s plate.

“Hey, can I have one too, Rosie?” Starsky asked, in the growly teddy bear voice. “And me too?” he added in his own voice.

“Of course, Uncle Dave. Here you go. And we have to help Teddy and Mrs. Chrissy eat theirs too.”

There was silence for a few minutes as the two ate their cookies and drank their milk from the little cups.

“To be a real tea party, we should be gossiping about the other ladies who aren’t here,” Rosie declared. “That’s what my mamma’s friends do when they’re here for a party.”

“Who should we gossip about? Your Uncle Ken?”

Rosie nodded. “Yup.”

“OK. Well how about this? He made meatloaf for dinner last night, and you know what? He overcooked it so bad we had to go out for dinner!”

Rosie laughed, then nodded solemnly. “I thought Uncle Ken was a good cook.”

“Usually he is, but he got distracted.” What Starsky didn’t say was what had distracted Hutch, but that was nothing for a child’s ears. “But we had a nice dinner at a great little Italian place. So it worked out good in the end.”

“Well my mommy and daddy went out for dinner last week,” Rosie said. “And Cal and I stayed alone.”

“That must have been fun,” Starsky said solemnly.

“Oh yes. We played checkers and watched TV. But it was only for a couple of hours, and they didn’t stay late.”

They gossiped some more, and drank their “tea” and ate the cookies, and Starsky made Rosie laugh a few more times with interjections from Teddy and Mrs. Chrissy.

Finally, they finished, and Starsky started to get up to help Rosie put things away.

That was when disaster struck.

Wedged into the little child’s chair, he got stuck getting out. Half standing, half crouched, he lurched forward, caught his foot on the rug, pitched down with his head against the table, and landed on the floor.

“Uncle Dave!” Rosie screamed. “Are you all right?”

Starsky grunted groggily. His nose gushed blood, and a gash on his forehead oozed too. Rosie stood in indecision for a few moments, then ran for the bathroom. She came back with a towel.

Starsky was still lying on the ground bleeding and moaning softly. Rosie wadded up the towel and pressed it to the bleeding gash. She pinched the lower end of the towel over his bloody nose. “Here Uncle Dave, hold this to your head and squeeze your nose.”

Starsky tried to respond, but he felt in a daze. “’M OK Rose…” he tried to say, but it came out as a croak. He writhed on the ground, struggling vainly to get to his feet, which were tangled in the chair and table legs.

Crying a little, but resolute, Rosie reached for the telephone. “Wha’ doin…?” Starsky slurred. Rosie dialed.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The 911 service was something new that Peter Whitelaw had pushed for once he was elected. Most of California didn’t have it yet, though some areas had had it a few years.

“Uncle Dave fell and hit his head on the table and there’s blood everywhere!” Rosie cried. “And he can’t talk right and he can’t get up!”

“What’s your address, honey?” the 911 operator asked, and Rosie shakily gave the information.

“We’ll get an ambulance there in a few minutes. You can try to stop the bleeding by holding something against it.”

“I got a towel,” Rosie said. “And pressed it to his forehead. He’s holding it now.”

“That’s great, sweetie. That’s just perfect.” The 911 operator asked some more questions to make sure Starsky was conscious and breathing and stayed talking to Rosie.

True to the operator’s word, it was less than ten minutes later when an ambulance arrived outside the house, lights flashing and siren blaring. Rosie ran to the door and let the EMTs in.

Soon they had the bleeding stopped and the gash on Starsky’s head bandaged.

“I don’t think you need stitches,” the EMT said. “It’s not as serious as it looks. Head wounds always bleed badly.” He examined Starsky and said he didn’t seem to be concussed.

On finding out who Rosie’s parents were, the EMTs contacted Captain Dobey and told him what had happened. It only took a few more minutes for the captain to arrive, followed by a panicked Hutch.

Rosie hugged her father in great relief. “I did just what you told me to do if there was ever an emergency, Daddy. I called 911 just like you said to do.”

“You did just right, honey,” Dobey said. “I’m proud of you.”

“Starsky, babe, what happened?” Hutch demanded. Starsky was by then seated on the living room couch, bandaged up. Hutch sat down beside him and put his arm around him.

“Tripped over m’own feet,” Starsky mumbled. “’M OK now. Rosie was a trooper.”

“She did exactly right.” The EMT nodded approvingly.

“You’re going to have two black eyes from hitting your nose like that,” Hutch said severely. “Thank you, Rosie, for taking care of him. At least one of you has some common sense.” He gave Rosie a hug.

“I like taking care of people,” Rosie said seriously. “I want to be a doctor when I grow up, like Junior’s friend Dr. Sammie. But this was scary. There was so much blood, I wanted to run away, but I didn’t. And I only cried a little.”

“You were a hero, Rosie,” Hutch agreed.

“OK, Mr. Starsky,” the EMT said, “You should be all right now.” He gave Starsky directions for taking care of the wound. “Put an ice pack on your head now, until it feels better. If you feel worse, go to the hospital and have it checked out, but I think you’ll be fine in a few days.”

“I’ll take him home and take care of him,” Hutch promised.

“Keep the head wound dry and no alcohol for 24 hours,” the EMT added.

Just then Edith got home. Seeing the ambulance and Captain Dobey’s car there, she ran in, terrified. “What happened?” she cried out as she came through the door.

They were quick to reassure her that everyone was all right. Edith hugged Rosie hard, then hugged Starsky as well. “And thank you gentlemen too,” she added to the EMTs.

The EMTs made their farewells and left. Edith looked around at the group.

“Well, since everybody is here, you might as well stay for dinner,” she said. “There’s plenty, I made it earlier, it just has to be heated up.” She glanced at the mess on the floor and sighed. “Harold, dear, can you clean this up while I get dinner ready? I’m afraid that rug is a total loss, but I’ve been wanting a new one anyway.”

They loaned Starsky a clean shirt of Captain Dobey’s so he could strip off the bloodstained one and gave him an ice pack for his head.

Soon a delicious meal was prepared, and Starsky found it in him to eat his fill. Then Hutch fulfilled his promise to the EMTs and took him home to the small house they were sharing while Starsky recovered.

“OK Starsk. What really happened?” he asked when they got in.

“I told you, I tripped over m’own feet,” Starsky replied flatly.

“I don’t believe that. You’re too smooth and light on your feet. What aren’t you telling me?”

“OK, OK,” Starsky admitted with some embarrassment. “My ass got caught in that little chair of Rosie’s, and I got stuck.”

Hutch laughed. “I knew it!”

“Well you don’t need to make a big thing out of it.”

“Your ass is a big thing.”

“You sayin’ I got a fat ass?” Starsky said indignantly.

“I’m saying you have a perfect ass, just right.” Hutch replied, and he hugged Starsky to him, fitting his hands to the curves of his buttocks, holding him close, and punctuating his words with a deep kiss. “I love your ass. I love you!”

“Mmmm… That’s more like it.” Starsky murmured. He leaned into Hutch and let his hands drift down his back, pulling him in tightly.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Hutch suggested. “I might need to check you out and make sure that the chair didn’t do any damage. The EMTs didn’t examine that.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Starsky replied with a chuckle. “You never know what you might find.”

In the bedroom, Hutch helped Starsky undress, carefully pulling Captain Dobey’s tee shirt over the bandage on his head and easing down his jeans.

“Hmmm. Everything looks good,” he declared, after studying Starsky’s bottom and running his hands gently over the curves. He planted a kiss on one side.

Instantly, Starsky was hard. Hutch eased him down onto the bed and straddled him.

“Hey no fair! You should be naked too!” Starsky objected.

“We’ll get to that… later,” Hutch admonished. “Now you let me take care of you.” He kissed a line down Starsky’s chest, ignoring the slowly fading scars from Gunther’s hit. When he reached Starsky’s waist, he took his erection and balls in both hands and began stroking him.

Starsky moaned and thrust wildly into Hutch’s cupped hands. Hutch took him in his mouth and began sucking and licking him, running his tongue up and down the shaft, alternating with sucking the head and tasting the salty pre-cum.

“Oh that’s so good,” Starsky gasped. “You’re so good at this, Babe.” He wrapped his hands around Hutch’s head, holding him tight and pulling him closer.

With one hand Hutch held Starsky’s penis, with the other, he fondled his balls, all the while keeping his mouth working. Starsky whimpered and writhed, then jerked convulsively, his hips rising off the bed as he came with a yell and a gasp and finally collapsed down again, spent and relaxed.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said, starting to sit up and reach for Hutch.

Hutch gently pushed him back down. “I can wait, Starsk. You shouldn’t be doing anything so active with a head injury.”

“I’m fine, Hutch.” Starsky objected. “No dizziness, no nausea, even my head doesn’t hurt any more. The guy said it was OK. I’ll take it easy, no wild acrobatics this time.”

Hutch sighed. “All right, but nothing too strenuous. I’ll undress myself, too.”

“Aw Hutch…” Starsky whined, but Hutch was adamant.

“You stay there and relax. I’ll be right with you.” He fiddled with the alarm clock by the side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Starsky asked suspiciously.

“Setting an alarm for three hours from now. You’re supposed to wake a head injury up during the night.”

“Oh no! Hutch, no!” Starsky said in dismay. “I hate being woken up like that! And the EMT didn’t say to do it!”

“I don’t care what the EMT did or didn’t say, I’m doing what my grandmother told me to do when I was a boy. Better being woken up every three hours for one night than not waking up at all,” Hutch said sternly. He put the clock down and started opening his shirt.

“I guess so…” Starsky muttered, knowing that nothing would change Hutch’s mind. “Hey! If you’re not going to let me undress you myself, at least make getting undressed sexy!”

Hutch stopped what he was doing and smiled. “OK, Babe, how’s this?”

Slowly he unbuttoned his shirt, doing it as a strip-tease. “Should have some stripper music going, really,” he murmured.

Obligingly, Starsky began to hum something provocative. Hutch laughed, but went on in time to the beat, opening his shirt, pulling it out from his pants waistband and easing it off. Then he started unzipping his pants, slow and sultry.

“Oh yeah, take it off!” Starsky urged, then went on with the music.

Slowly Hutch worked the brown corduroys down his long legs, making it take a long time. He tossed them aside and did a little flirtatious dancing as he started to work his underwear off.

Lastly went shoes and socks. Then, finally naked and erect, to Starsky’s cheers, he slid into the bed with him.

“Now what do you want to do?” Hutch murmured huskily.

“This,” Starsky replied, holding Hutch close and kissing him passionately. For some time they kissed and cuddled, Starsky working his hands down Hutch’s back to his ass and pulling him tightly to him, side by side, facing each other.

Then Starsky, still lying on his side, moved his hands around to Hutch’s front and began stroking him, starting with his chest and working down to his engorged cock, rubbing and squeezing gently.

“Oh yeah, that’s good,” Hutch gasped.

“It’s going to get better,” Starsky chuckled and positioned his head beside Hutch’s groin. He delicately licked the tip of his cock, then ran his tongue over first the head and then the whole long length.

Hutch sighed deeply in satisfaction and then moaned as Starsky took his whole shaft into his mouth, running his tongue along it and sucking hard. Starsky played with Hutch’s balls while he sucked, and it didn’t take very long before Hutch came, shuddering and gasping, deep in Starsky’s mouth. “Oh God, yes!” he cried as he came, his hips arching and thrusting. Then he collapsed and lay back panting.

Starsky pulled himself up even with Hutch and grinned at him. “How’d you like that, my big beautiful blond?” he asked.

Hutch put his arms around Starsky and pulled him close again. “That was wonderful.”

“I could use something to drink,” Starsky said. “I know I can’t have alcohol, but how about a root beer?” He smiled ingratiatingly.

“The EMT said to keep hydrated.” Hutch agreed, nodding. “I’ll see what we have.” He slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen.

Soon he came back with a cold bottle of root beer, and, getting into bed, handed it to Starsky. Starsky drank it in a few gulps and handed the bottle back to Hutch, who put it beside the bed.

“Now lights out,” Hutch said. “Remember we have to wake up again in three hours.”

Starsky fell asleep quickly. Hutch remained awake longer, cuddled up to Starsky and listening to his gentle breathing, but eventually he drifted off too. In three hours, the alarm went off, waking them both, and Hutch, after making sure Starsky was lucid, set it again. Starsky complained, but soon was asleep once more.

And so it went for the night, Hutch making sure Starsky woke each time, and then setting the alarm again, until the morning came.

When it came to the final time the alarm was set, Hutch woke up a bit before it went off. Being careful not to disturb Starsky as he disentangled himself from him, he sat up in bed. Starsky was sound asleep, peacefully curled on his side, breathing softly.

The sun shone brightly in through the windows, and Hutch could hear the morning concert of birds singing. Careful to avoid the bandage on his head, he gently ran his hand through Starsky’s hair, traced the line of his lips with his finger, and caressed his cheek, feeling the beard stubble already growing there, waiting to be shaved.

Just then the alarm went off. Hutch cursed and reached over to silence it, but it was too late. Starsky’s eyes flickered open. “What are you doing, Hutch?” he muttered sleepily.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Hutch said brightly. “Time to rise and shine!”

“How can you be so damn cheerful after being woken up all night?” Starsky grumbled.

Hutch bent down and pressed a kiss on Starsky’s pout. “It’s a beautiful day and you’re alive and well. What more could I ask for? Now, how do you feel?” he added, his tone changing to one of worry. “You should let me change your bandage.”

Starsky sighed. “I feel fine, Hutch, no problem, honest. The bandage doesn’t need changing. It didn’t get wet or messed up. Stop fussing.”

Hutch looked away. “When Dobey told me in the squadroom yesterday that there had been an accident and you were hurt, I thought the worst. Even when he said you were fine, I was afraid.”

“Well it was just a banged head and a bloody nose. Nothing more. And Rosie knew just what to do.” Starsky turned Hutch to him and gave him a firm kiss. “Now you need to get going to work. You’ll be late.”

“I’m not going to work, I told Dobey yesterday. I’m staying here with you.”

“You don’t need to do that, Hutch. I told you, I’m fine! I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t need to. I know you can. But I want to, Starsk. Because I love you, and I was afraid I lost you.”

Starsky smiled. “ I love you too, Babe. And I promise, I’m not going anywhere. Cause it’s ‘me and thee,’ forever.”