Water Cycle

952

Hutch thinks they need it. Starsky doesn’t. Turns out, they’re both right.

 

Written for the LJ me_and_thee_100 drabble comm, challenge 59 – water. Older boys.

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And just why do we need a waterfall?” Starsky asked.

“Fountain,” Hutch corrected. “A miniature Zen water fountain.”

“Whatever. Why do we need—”

“It’s soothing, that’s why.” Hutch plugged it in. Water bubbled out of the hidden pump, flowed around the rock and bamboo arrangement, then fell in a shower of drops into the reservoir below.

“How soothing is it if it makes me want to take a leak every ten minutes?”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “What are you, five years old?”

“No, I’m 65, and much as I hate to admit it, that problem’s worse now than when I was five.”

Hutch snickered. “Thinking of hanging up your spurs already, partner?”

“Hell, no,” Starsky retorted, “But I don’t want ’em rusting, either.”

Hutch pulled Starsky in. “C’mon, just try it,” he wheedled. “Clear your mind and listen. Focus.”

Starsky closed his eyes and focused. He focused on the arms around him. The steady heartbeat against his back. The warm, even breaths.

This—this was his Zen, his center, his peace. It flowed from Hutch to him, and back again: their own water cycle.

Hutch could have his fountain. As long as Starsky had Hutch, he’d never run dry.