Suppression

200

Part  eight of the Episodes series. Missing scene from Pariah.

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Starsky backed the car out quickly, with barely a glance in the rearview mirror. His irritation with his partner had been waxing and waning since before he’d left the impromptu party last night, but it was back now in full force and he couldn’t stop himself from throwing Hutch a dirty look.

“That was a pretty rotten thing to do, you know. I can still taste that crap—slimy, metallic. It’s gross, and you tricked me—”

Hutch received his accusation with maddening coolness. “Starsk, I’m not going to feel guilty if your ego took a little hit and that encouraged you to try something healthy to start your day with for a change.”

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Starsky forced himself to count to five before he spoke. The five seconds also allowed him to reject the oh, so compelling desire to pop his partner one right in his perfect face.

“You set me up. You know it and I know it.”

“Well, of course we both know it.” Hutch looked at him like he had grown two heads. “You were right there when Molly came back in–I told her to do that—and gave up the goods. All part of the fun.” Hutch smoothed some hair off his forehead and leaned back against his seat like a man who didn’t have a care in the world. “Fun…but I had a good reason.”

Hutch’s calmness was infuriating. “Care to share your reason?” Starsky asked loudly.

The smile Hutch gave him was kind. “Sure, you had a lot to drink last night and I thought you could use some real nutrition to help knock out any hangover or residual tiredness.”

Considering the fact that he could hold his liquor better than any man in the department—including Hutch—Starsky thought that comment was beneath his dignity to even respond to, and then without meaning to, he did. “If you thought I’d had too much to drink last night—which, by the way, I hadn’t—seems like you wouldn’t have made sure I’d need to drive home instead of staying over.” Starsky tuned his head slightly to catch Hutch’s eye. “I mean, just to be safe.”

That made Hutch leave his reclined position and sit up straight. “What the hell’s that suppose to mean?” he asked, the previous coolness now replaced by obvious anger. “Are you saying I kicked you out and knowingly let you drive yourself home drunk? Is that what you’re saying, ’cause that would be a pretty crappy thing for one partner to do to another. Is that what you think I did?” Hutch paused for a moment and Starsky considered replying, but before he could Hutch said seriously, “Is that really what you’re saying? Do you think I can be that big an asshole?”

The irritated part of Starsky’s brain registered that his low blow had landed where he wanted it to, but his conscience made him back off just a little. “No, I’m not exactly saying that.”

“Then what exactly are you saying, Starsky?”

“I’m saying you were too busy practically getting that girl naked right in front of me to notice if I was in any shape to drive—no matter how much you think I had to drink—and since I didn’t want to watch your performance I went home.”

“Performance?” Hutch asked. “You think I was giving a performance for your benefit? And her name is Molly.”

“Actually, yeah, I do. I think you wanted me to see you gettin’ it on with her. Just like you’ve been making sure I know you’re screwin’ every woman who bats her eyes at you these last few weeks. You used to be a lot more discriminating. Do you even know her last name?”

A quick side-eye glance at Hutch’s face revealed reddish cheeks and blazing eyes. The low blows were continuing to find their mark, and Starsky realized a little too late that they were fifteen minutes from work and this was a dangerous topic. He needed to pull back, even though he wanted to have this conversation, the timing was all wrong. “Okay, look, I probably shouldn’t have—”

“I know her phone number and her flight schedule this week,” Hutch said, and every word was venom-filled. “I don’t have any need to know her last name, but you know that, too, don’t you, Starsky?”

“Hutch, okay—”

“Find a place to pull over and park,” Hutch demanded.

He’d crossed the line that was usually invisible between them and now Starsky was as irritated with himself as he was with Hutch. He tried for a pleasant tone, but it sounded as phony to his ears as he knew it must to Hutch’s. “Listen, we can do this soon—talk it out, like tonight–but we gotta get to work now.”

“Pull over, Starsky! Do it!”

Realizing that Hutch was now in the place where discussion or arguing would get them nowhere, Starsky took the next exit and found a shopping center parking lot to stop in. With great unease running through him he shut the engine off. “I guess you’re going first,” Starsky said, turning in his seat so he could look Hutch in the eye.

“That was a lousy thing to say.” Hutch took in a couple of noisy breaths before his next sentence. “It’s especially lousy when you think about how long and how loudly you—you, Starsky—insisted that I needed friendly, happy, easy-going women in my life. Women to have sex with. Am I right?”

Starsky wished the radio would come to life and demand their presence immediately. He knew his own bad mood had started this, but damn, it had bugged the hell out of him when Hutch had had his hands under Molly’s top and his tongue down her mouth. Why couldn’t he have waited until they were alone? Why did he want–? Starsky let that thought bounce in his brain until he was sure he knew how to answer Hutch’s question.

“You’re right, I wanted all those things but I never said I wanted to watch you having them, did I?” Starsky hoped he sounded like a mature adult and not a jealous teenager. After all, he did want that for Hutch and for himself. Safe, satisfying, society-approved sex with women. Why was Hutch always making it so complicated? Why didn’t he get that it didn’t have to affect what they had between them? Before Hutch could answer his first question, he fired off more. “Do you even know why you wanted me to watch? It wasn’t like you were inviting me to join you for a threesome.”

Starsky could tell that his words had let a lot of the steam out of Hutch’s anger. He waited until Hutch locked eyes with him, and ignored the fact that Hutch’s complexion was still dark pink and Starsky no longer knew the answer to his own question. “You didn’t want that, right?” he asked Hutch softly.

Hutch shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t have sprung that on Molly without talking to her about it first. And I wouldn’t have sprung that on you without knowing in advance… I mean, talking to you, or something. You and me–we don’t even have sex with each other anymore. Why would I consider a threesome?”

The pain in Hutch’s last words was obvious and overwhelming. Starsky felt his pulse start to race.  He had never told Hutch that they wouldn’t have sex again, why did Hutch think that? Sure, it had been a while now, but that was just to get them back in balance. Had the pendulum swung too far in the opposite direction? And God damn it all to hell, why did it feel like he was the only one who was invested in keeping their private life private? Each thought was more complicated than the last and he knew he couldn’t deal with them all right now, not in the car in this stupid parking lot. He concentrated on the one thing he knew he could fix. The thing he had to set right in Hutch’s head. He reached a hand out and let it rest on Hutch’s knee. “You’re wrong about us not having sex anymore.”

Hutch gave him an incredulous look. “I’m wrong, huh? So, what, we’ve been having sex while I’m asleep? Or we’re having imaginary sex? As long as it’s imaginary, can you make my dick an inch longer?”

“Stop being a sarcastic smart ass,” Starsky said calmly. “And your dick is plenty big as it is. Now, want to hear what you’re wrong about?”

Hutch made a grunt of disgust and turned his head toward the window. “Fine, enlighten me.”

Starsky drew in a deep breath. He wanted so badly to get his next words just right. “You and me—we always had this understanding—or I thought we did—where we could get it on once in a while—express that…stuff…between us physically and have a great time doin’ it. Am I right?”

Hutch nodded. “Of course. That was always the deal, until—”

“Until I changed it?” Starsky interrupted and watched as Hutch nodded again. “Hutch, you’re wrong. We changed it. We changed it for a few amazing weeks while you were gettin’ strong again after Forest. A few amazing, wonderful, and very dangerous weeks. We did that together. And neither one of us was paying attention to what anyone else might have been noticing.”

Hutch looked shocked and his cheeks were now milk-white. “Oh, my God. Did someone see…something? Hear something? Did someone say something to you? Who knows, Starsky?”

Starsky saw something close to panic on Hutch’s face and he heard it in his voice. For the first time in a long time, Starsky didn’t feel like he was the only one who cared about keeping them safe. It still mattered to Hutch, too. The relief was sweet, but he had to alleviate Hutch’s worry before he did anything else. “It’s not like that, Hutch, I mean, not what you’re thinking exactly.”

“Would you please tell me exactly what it is, then?” Hutch asked. “Because I now get that something or someone spooked you.”

Complete honesty was his only choice. “It was Huggy. Huggy spooked me.”

Hutch was quiet for a few moments, and Starsky could almost see the answers forming in his partner’s head.

“It was the night we had the party for Anton at my place. The night you took Ginger home with you.” Hutch wasn’t asking, he was stating. “What did Huggy tell you? What does he know?”

“I’m not sure,” Starsky said. “But, yeah, he was hinting he knew something that night, or maybe he was just jumping to the wrong conclusion?”

“You mean the right conclusion,” Hutch said.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Starsky sighed, and rubbed Hutch’s knee with the hand that had been resting on it while they talked. “I…diverted him. At least I think I did. He stopped making pointed comments, but he got me real nervous and I decided right then and there to do something about it. And I’m really sorry I just reacted without figuring out a way to talk to you first.”

Hutch smiled and covered Starsky’s hand with his own. “That’s a lie, Starsk. I know you feel bad about that night—I mean, I know now—but you’re not sorry you didn’t talk to me about what had happened with Huggy. You knew that I wasn’t ready to hear it, or to give up all the…intimacy you and I had been sharing.”

“You figured all that out right now?” Starsky asked, and gave Hutch a smile of his own.

“Guess I did. I can usually read you pretty easily when I don’t have my head shoved up my ass.”

“Hutch, your head isn’t—”

“No, not now it isn’t,” Hutch said. “But it was for a while there. Maybe I wanted a little bit longer to pretend…but, Starsk. I know no one can ever find out about our sexual past. You think the thought of that doesn’t scare the shit out of me, too? Jesus, just imagining what Dobey would say…or my father. No one can ever know about our past. We like girls, we’ll keep going in that direction—”

“That’s the third time you’ve referred to our sex life as something over, in the past,” Starsky said. “I never wanted it to end, I just wanted a cool down period. A chance for you to reengage with the fairer sex—which you’ve done a great job at—but I never wanted us to be over. Do you?”

“God, no,” Hutch said. “I was just trying to go with what I thought you wanted. And, you’re right about the girls I’ve been with, I wanted you to see it with your own eyes. Maybe I wanted you to be jealous. Maybe I’m real sonofabitch.”

“No, you’re not,” Starsky said. “We just got a little tripped up. We needed to have this talk; clear the air, even though we’re going to be late for work.”

“So, we can…see each other again every once in a while?” Hutch asked tentatively.

“I’d like to see you—all of you—tonight, unless you already have a date?”

“No, no date,” Hutch said, and gave Starsky a wink. “I’m free as a bird.”

“Okay, then, I’m gonna be your date and we’re going to make up for some lost time,” Starsky said, and started the car. “Hutch, you know nothing will ever separate us, right?”

“When I’m feeling optimistic,” Hutch said and laughed.

Starsky ignored the laugh. “I’m always optimistic about us. After all, we’ll be best friends until we die,” Starsky said. “Am I right?”

“Of course, you’re right,” Hutch agreed.

“And we’ll be lovers as many times as we can safely pull it off for as long as we both want to be, right?”

“I hope so,” Hutch said a little wistfully. “I really do.”

“Then there’s work and that’s a given,” Starsky said confidently. “We’ll be partners at work—kicking ass and taking names—until we’re old and gray. Right?”

“Right, and I appreciate your thinking I’ll be gray and not bald when we retire.”

This time Starsky joined the laughter and it felt so good. “Won’t matter to me if your head turns as smooth as your butt, I just know we’ll be—”

The radio interrupted Starsky with a loud hiss, before the dispatcher’s voice came through. “All units, all units in the vicinity of Market and 13^th, shots fired, officer down, all units….”

Hutch grabbed the mic at the same time Starsky was peeling out of the parking lot. “Zebra Three, we are responding to shots fired, Market and 13^th. ETA…” Hutch raised his eyebrows at Starsky.

“Two minutes.”

“Our ETA is two minutes,” Hutch said and replaced the mic. “Officer down. It’s gonna be bad.”

“We’ll handle it,” Starsky said, and gave Hutch an encouraging grin as he sped toward their destination.

 

The end.