The Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the department 
Not a creature was stirring, not even a sergeant. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true…

Hutch was slumped over another case report in the nearly deserted squad room. Babcock, the only other person there, was getting ready to leave. He’d said something about a Christmas Eve party and was humming a jovial tune under his breath while gathering his things.

Hutch didn’t mind the solitude; he welcomed it. He had paperwork to finish, and the quiet suited him. The Christmas decorations were enough company, not that he paid them much attention.

When he heard the approaching footsteps—heavy and determined—he didn’t bother to look up. So when Starsky slapped a piece of paper right under his nose, he yelped and jumped like a startled cat. That he kept his chair from toppling over was a small Christmas miracle.

“What the hell, Starsky?”

Hutch looked at his partner, and the expression he saw on Starsky’s face took him by surprise. Blazing eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and a mouth tightened into a thin line. Determination and frustration pulled at Starsky’s features, hiding underneath something Hutch couldn’t grasp. It was right at the tips of his mental fingers, but it kept slithering away. A slippery creature taunting him with its familiarity.

Starsky stabbed the paper on the desk with his index finger. “See a hole, fill a hole.”

“Huh?” Hutch asked with astonishing eloquence.

He lowered his eyes and looked at the medium-sized piece of paper in front of him. It was a sketch of a row of shelves neatly stacked with foodstuffs with the words “SEE A HOLE, FILL A HOLE” printed at the bottom.

He looked back at Starsky. “I don’t understand. What is this? Are you giving me shit for something I did?”

The glint in Starsky’s eyes showed Hutch he should be able to recognize this. He should be able to decipher the elusive meaning behind this strange episode. Starsky turned and walked away.

“See a hole, fill a hole, Hutch!” he called as he walked out the door, leaving a thunderstruck Hutch behind him.

“What…”

A snort drew Hutch back to his surroundings. He’d forgotten Babcock was getting ready to leave right before Starsky arrived. But of course, he’d stayed and watched the entire scene unfold.

“He’s obviously giving you shit for something you didn’t do,” Babcock said, amusement coloring his voice.

“What?” Boy, was he eloquent this Christmas Eve.

“The two of you have been dancing around each other for so long it’s become second nature to let things continue as they are. And Starsky’s fed up with it.”

In a flash, the lights in Hutch’s head lit up like a Christmas tree. The undefined but familiar something hidden in Starsky’s expression was the same thing he’d seen countless times in the mirror. He was grappling with identifying a reflection of the same emotions he kept buried and concealed—emotions ingrained in him like an extra layer of skin. The revelation struck him with the full force of a eureka moment. Memories of shared moments full of unspoken meaning flooded his mind—sunbeams bursting through the clouds to transform the landscape beneath. He slapped his forehead.

“He’s telling me to make a move!”

“Atta boy! Starsky will be proud of you. So am I.”

“I’ll let the mocking slide ‘cause I have more important things to do-”

“Here,” Babcock pressed a slender bottle in Hutch’s hand, “you’ll need this for the important things you have to do. My Christmas present to you. Go get him, Tiger!”

Hutch was already in motion, his heart racing in rhythm with his thoughts. The prospect of amorous confessions, passionate love, and a future with the man who meant the world to him was both exhilarating and terrifying. And he knew he wanted all of it.

Halfway through the room, he remembered his jacket and turned back. With one tug, he pulled it off the chair’s back and knocked the chair down with a resounding crash that reverberated through the air. Ignoring the commotion, Hutch sprinted out the door, calling back, “Thanks, Babs! Merry Christmas!”

“Don’t break the bed!” Babcock’s laugh echoed behind him as he raced through the corridor towards the best Christmas gift he’d ever receive.

Later on, with Starsky cradled in his arms and a brand new life awaiting, he’d question why Babcock had a bottle of lube. Tonight, though, he had many holes to fill, starting with the one in his heart.

“And we all heard the boys exclaim as they turned off the light,
As the scene faded to black and they were hidden from sight, 

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Chapter End Notes: Thank you for reading!