You’re Starsky, I’m Hutch

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Starsky has trouble defining his role in their new relationship.

 

Committed relationship, post-SR, Starsky angst, Hutch angst.

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The struggles of a tiny, solitary ant making its way laboriously through an intricate obstacle course he’d set up on his desk temporarily diverted Dave Starsky’s attention. The motivated insect traveled painstakingly through the maze toward the few pitiful crumbs left on the paper plate from his lunch. Tiring of the arduous toil, the creature scaled the last hurdle and landed blissfully on the dish.

A year had passed since the shooting had sidelined him and though he’d worked diligently to rejoin Hutch, he was still relegated to a desk job and Hutch, who flatly refused to take a permanent partner, alternated between grunt work and filling in for whoever needed a temporary partner. Starsky was beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to get out into the field again, but he tried not to consider that possibility.

Paper shuffling had always been harder on him than it was on his partner. Something in Ken Hutchinson’s complicated genealogical makeup had begotten a love of order and long, meticulous descriptive phrases concerning their cases. To the other member of the team, it was the ultimate form of torture, a punishment for only the most grievous of transgressions. The only way he was able to cope with reports was to make them sound like a Sam Slade crime novel and Captain Dobey invariably tossed them back to him for editing. This kind of busy work was not an ideal situation for either of them. It was only the bond between them that gave them any kind of satisfaction. It was just recently that Starsky had begun to realize that there were also problems in that relationship that needed to be worked on.

`Too bad that orderly nature doesn’t extend to the home front,’ Starsky thought to himself. He seemed to be constantly picking up after his partner and lover and had long since given up carping about it. Work was so mind-numbing that he was glad to have something to do when he got out of the office.

The victory scored by the miniscule bug had ended the negligible entertainment he’d created for himself and the detective turned his attention back to staring at Dobey’s door, willing it to open. The fact that he’d been summarily dismissed from the meeting between his superior officer and his partner bothered him….it disturbed him a lot, if the truth were told and he only hoped that Hutch had a good excuse for his dalliance. Starsky was “bored out of his gourd” and wanted something exciting to happen.

But the moment Hutch sauntered out of Captain Dobey’s office, shit-eating grin plastered on his face, Starsky knew intuitively that things were not about to take a turn for the better. His partner leaned over his desk, spied the ant scurrying away happily with a huge morsel of tuna salad clutched tightly in its mandibles and pushed over a heavy book with the lofty name, `The Aberrant Psychology of the Felonious Perpetrator’ onto the creature, crushing him and his final meal.

“Ants….I hate `em!” He griped, not noticing the baleful glare leveled in his direction. Looking up, he caught the look of reproach. “Oops, friend a yours?” he asked.

“Resourceful little guy.” Starsky responded coolly. “I was thinking of making him my new partner.”

“Get over it, Starsk. Just wait till I tell you what I’ve done for us.” Hutch bubbled enthusiastically.

“Oh yeah? If it was something I was gonna like, you’d have invited me into the inner sanctum with you.”

“I had to convince Dobey that you were depressed and ready to get out and try to commit `suicide by perp,’ so I could get us some time off.”

“You what?” Starsky growled.

“Joke!” Hutch held his hands up in capitulation. “But I did get us a week’s vacation.”

Somewhat mollified, Starsky was still waiting for the catch.

“And…?”

“Well, I thought maybe we’d spend it at Dobey’s cabin, buddy.” Hutch ran his hand over his mouth, attempting to muffle the last three words.

“Oh, no! I can’t believe you’ve even got the guts to say that.” Starsky rose slowly until he was almost nose-to-nose with his partner. “Nyet! Nein! Non! Never! And those are my more positive thoughts.”

“So….you’re open to the idea?” Hutch muttered. “Think of the romantic possibilities.

” He turned all the considerable charm at his disposal on his still mumbling partner.

As much as Starsky loved the way Hutch’s eyes deepened in color, turning almost violet when he was being amorous, he remained unmoved.

“There’s nothing but bunk beds there. How romantic can a guy get with split-level sleepin’ arrangements?”

Hutch planted himself on the desk, as close to his partner as the circumstances would allow. “Aw, c’mon. We can drag a couple mattresses out on the floor in front of the fireplace…”

“That would be the exact same surface where I entertained a very pissed-off snake?” Starsky fell back down into his chair as the vision of his near-fatal brush with the rattler assaulted his memory.

“It didn’t get there by itself.” Hutch sighed. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem this time.”

“And what nightmare do you think has taken over the house across the lake, huh?”

“I already asked and there’s nobody there. It’s up for sale. It’ll be just the two of us.” Hutch made a point of fluttering his eyelashes beguilingly.

“But….”

“Come on, you’re not a virgin anymore, you know.” Hutch grinned.

An unwilling smile crawled up the left side of Starsky’s face. “Not in any way, shape or form, but that doesn’t mean I want to go back there. No TV, no fast-food….very unfriendly natives. Not my idea of fun!”

“I’ll take the VCR and rent every beta tape in the store. Cap’n Dobey says there’s a restaurant in town now….and a movie theater.” Hutch said smugly.

“Currently featuring Ben Hur, no doubt.” Starsky sniped cynically.

Undaunted, Hutch reasoned with his stubborn partner. “I suppose you’d rather stay here and build condos for bugs?” He indicated the clutter on the desk.

“It was a maze.” Starsky shot back defensively. “I was conducting a scientific experiment.”

Hutch wriggled his eyebrows in a parody of the other man’s Groucho leer. “I can think of a few experiments that would be much more interesting.” He darted a quick look around the squad room to make sure they were still alone before working his suddenly shoeless foot up his dark-haired paramour’s calf and thigh, letting it rest in his crotch for just a millisecond.

The promise that shone from those Caribbean-blue eyes….a prelude to long, passion-filled days and nights in Hutch’s arms was Starsky’s undoing and his intuitive partner smiled triumphantly as he closely monitored the cave-in. But one fear had yet to be voiced.

“But….there are bears in those woods….and all kinds of other nasty…” Starsky whined ineffectually.

Hutch leaned close and whispered. “The only bare in those woods is gonna be us, lover.”

Feeling suddenly intolerably warm and flushed, Starsky leaned heavily in his chair and nearly toppled over backward. Hutch nimbly righted him and took the opportunity to murmur, grinning wickedly. “Thought you’d see it my way.” Then he quickly sprinted for the squad room door. “After all, I’ll be doing most of the work.”

His wide-eyed lover was left alone with a big “W?” forming on his lips and a doomed feeling, which, if he could have visualized it, would have closely resembled a circle of ravenous buzzards hovering over his head. With as much dignity as he could muster, he headed for Dobey’s office. A few questions later, he had what he’d suspected. His partner had already committed them to a weeks’ vacation with pay, in return for also re-roofing the captain’s cabin.

Hutch had good reason to be glad his partner was kept busy, as he was able to stay just out of his reach for the rest of the day. Once in the car, though, there was no place left to hide and Starsky was hot, tired, hurting and ticked off, not necessarily in that order.

Hutch allowed the other man to stew in silence and was pleasantly surprised when a relatively mild reproach was the first thing forthcoming.

“Ya coulda asked me.” Starsky sulked.

“I did ask you.”

“After the fact….and I never said yes. Dobey says you promised him we’d do it before you ever left his office.”

Hutch looked chagrined and smiled apologetically. “Maybe….but isn’t part of loving someone wanting to do what’s good for them, whether they like it or not?”

“Okay….that mighta been true a few months’ ago, but I’m doing good now.” Starsky raised his voice, betraying the emotions that he’d tried to hold down most of the afternoon. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“But I thought….I mean, you’re still hurting and I know how damned bored you are. I just….”

“You just know how much I love Pine Lake and thought I’d really enjoy a week of lying around going absolutely nuts, right?” Starsky sighed deeply. “Hutch, I get that you want to make things better for me, but I’m beginning to feel like the new fish in cell block C. I’d like to be a working member of this duo. We’re still considered partners on the job. Why….when we do our thing….does it have to be so different?”

“Our `thing’, Romeo, is a relationship, the most important one in my life. But, I’m getting the feeling maybe you’re not as committed to `it’ as I am.” Hutch sighed, the hurt on his face an almost palpable thing.

Starsky winced. The last thing he wanted was to make Hutch unhappy, but it was time that a few ground rules were drawn out.

After the fiasco with Kira….they’d both experienced strange feelings that had spelled the death of their “picket-fence” fantasies. They’d dealt with their confusion separately, each holding his emotions deep inside and it had created a temporary rift between them. It was beginning to dawn on them that real happiness was only an out-stretched arm away when Starsky was shot, spiraling them each into a very different private hell and postponing the inevitable.

A couple of months after Starsky left the hospital, Hutch knelt before his chair, gathered the other man close and began to murmur words he’d never imagined uttering to another man. Finally….out of things to say…he found the courage to look up into his partner’s face, seeing not revulsion, but love and adoration in the shining midnight-blue eyes.

Neither of them had ever looked back, but they’d also never defined their relationship, falling into a pseudo-marriage, where, in Starsky’s eyes, at least, he’d never achieved co-captain status, but was forced to settle in as first mate. The dark-haired detective was beginning to champ at the bit, and now….the camel’s back had been broken.

Hutch had begun to babble on about fishing and the virtues of outdoor life when the dam burst.

“No way!” Starsky exploded violently, startling his partner into a near miss with an oncoming vehicle.

“Jeezus, Starsky! What the hell brought that on?” Clearly irritated, Hutch fought to regain control of the car. “No way, what?”

Starsky held up his left hand. “Do you see a ring on this finger?”

Hutch eyed the smaller man as though he’d just dropped into the car seat from some distant planet. He was not completely certain what his volatile partner’s beef was, so he remained silent, but the tension in his body and the white knuckles which gripped the steering wheel revealed more than a little anger.

“I’m not married to you, Hutchinson.” Starsky growled heatedly. “Believe me, I care more than I really want to sometimes….I’m more than proud to honor you with everything that I am or have….” Starsky swallowed hard, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing as though he were on the verge of tears. “But I have never made any promises to you that gave you the right to make all my decisions for me….I’m your partner, not your bitch!” He bit the last word off with a vengeance.

Hutch deliberately kept his eyes on the road, jaw muscles working hard, betraying the effort it took for him to stay in control.

“Starsky….I’ve never asked more of you than I thought you were willing to give.” He quickly glanced at the stony profile that was the man he loved and then just as swiftly looked away. “I thought you’d tell me when you needed more from me….or in this case less, I guess. It never occurred to me that you were so unhappy.” Hutch pounded on the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Why couldn’t you have just told me how you were feeling? I’m that unapproachable?”

“Unapproachable?” Starsky laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “You are so….goddamn….dense!” He shook his head hopelessly, disturbing the longer-than-usual curls.

The gesture tugged at Hutch’s heart and a tremor shook him. A long slivery glass shard of dread lanced through him, piercing his body with its harshness.

Panicked, he tried to think of something to say. `I can’t argue that he’s wrong,’ was the first thing that came to his mind. `Isn’t this exactly why I’ve tried so hard to control the relationship? The fear that I was about to lose Starsky….like I lost Vanessa….like I lost Gillian?’

“Okay….okay, I get it.” An icy band constricted his chest as the intensity of his partner’s anger hit him. “We can go home and talk about it….work things out, can’t we?”

“I don’t think so, Hutch. I gotta have some space.” Starsky looked out the window as they pulled up in front of Venice Place . “I’m gonna pack a few things and go to a motel. This is your place.”

“It’s our place, Starsk. Always has been, even when I lived here alone.” Hutch sighed deeply. “I’ll take off for Pine Lake ….you stay here. I promised Dobey….it’s my responsibility.”

The atmosphere in the apartment was strained, so Hutch wasted no time tossing what he needed in a bag, while Starsky sat woodenly on the couch, looking miserable. As the blond carried his suitcase out of the bedroom, his partner got up and walked to his side.

“I’m sorry, I just need time to think. I’m not sayin’ it’s over or anything.” Starsky put his hands on Hutch’s shoulders. “I can’t imagine my life without you, but things have got to change.”

Hutch set his bag down and put his arms around the other man. “I love you more `n anything, Starsk. I guess I’ve been trying to control you and it’s because of my damned insecurity. I’m so afraid of losing you.” He planted a chaste kiss on his lover’s forehead. “I’m really sorry.”

The soft thud of the door closing was the loudest thing Starsky had ever heard.

Not one to enjoy solitude, it didn’t take Starsky long to realize that nothing was going to be resolved by his pacing the floor. He chuckled grimly, the activity reminding him of a hillbilly song. Some of his anger had left with Hutch and he now wanted nothing more than to talk things out with his lover. Cursing himself for a fool, he tried to fill his time with activities that would take his mind off the problem.

After attempting to get involved in a Lakers game, gnawing on a stale slice of pizza and pretending interest in a book, he collapsed on the couch and tried to nap. Instantly, an intense longing for his partner immerged and he began to consider what his life would be like without the love he’d come to know and depend on and he wasn’t happy with it.

“Why the hell didn’t we just hash it out on the spot?” He asked the empty room. `’Cause I’m a moron, like Hutch says.’ He answered his own question.

Knowing that there was something he could do about it, he jumped up, threw some clothes into a duffel bag and headed for the Torino . The landscape was shadowed with dusk and his strength disappeared more quickly these days, so he ended up having to pull over and sleep for awhile. So it was well into mid-morning when he reached the turnoff for Pine Lake .

As he pulled into the yard, he was surprised to find Hank Ward’s big truck in front of the cabin, as well as a beat-up old pickup truck. Hutch’s car wasn’t in sight. Two men were on the roof catching bundles of shingles that were being tossed to them by a stocky, middle-aged man that Starsky recognized. HankWard had been the one man who’d trusted them to save Lizzie Tyce from a group of lunatics when they’d stayed at the cabin the last time, an occasion that Starsky rarely brought to mind and certainly had no desire to repeat. Just the sight of the cabin sent chills down his spine. Why Hutch had wanted to return to the rustic area eluded him. But then, his partner had always been “a little bit country”, while he was a city boy, born and bred.

“Hey, Hank.” He greeted the older man warmly. “How’s it goin’?”

“Dave Starsky.” The man grabbed his hand, grinning. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Sometimes it just takes me a little longer to get where I’m goin’ than it does Hutch.” Starsky smiled at the irony of the statement. “Did he go to town to stock up on bean sprouts?”

Hank Ward looked a little startled. “He stopped by the cabin, and then came on into town.” The big man grinned. “Knocked on my door late last night and asked if I could get my hands on enough shingles and a couple of guys to do the job as soon as possible. Then he left. Said he’d call me later and see what I found out.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Starsky asked, alarmed.

“Actually, he said he was going home….that he had something more important to do.”

A bizarre mixture of relief, love and irritation overwhelmed Starsky.

“Is the cabin open? I need to call him.”

“Yeah, he left the key in case we needed to get in. I haven’t tried it, but I think Harold leaves the phone hooked up all year.”

“I’ll just be a minute.” Starsky headed for the cabin on the run.

Hutch answered on the first ring, proof that he’d been worrying about his missing partner.

“What the hell are you doing there?” Starsky asked with some asperity.

“S-Starsky, I’ve been calling all over, trying to find you.” Hutch stammered out, obviously frustrated.

“Did you try Pine Lake , by any chance?”

“Oh, my god…you didn’t drive all the way up there?”

“Didja ever think of calling and telling me you were changing addresses?”

“I’m sorry,” Hutch sputtered. “I never thought you’d be anywhere but here.”

“Sitting around waiting for you, right?” Starsky knew he was being unreasonable, but had become so defensive that he couldn’t seem to control his antipathy toward what he considered his inferior status. Blasting Hutch seemed to make him feel a little better on some level.

“Stay there, Starsk….I’ll come back up and we’ll work this out.”

“No, YOU STAY THERE! I’m coming home.” Starsky snarled.

“But you shouldn’t get overtired….and you probably haven’t eaten anything…”

“Hu-u-utch.” Starsky’s voice started low and rose in intensity like the growl of an irritated Grizzly and Hutch knew he’d put his foot in his mouth again.

“Okay, I’ll be here.” He said calmly and heard a click as the connection was broken.

Starsky stalked to his car with little more than a cursory goodbye to the men outside and drove straight home without stopping.

He literally burst through the door, surprising Hutch, who was putting the finishing touches on a special dinner. He targeted the blond, never stopping until he had him backed up against the kitchen cupboards. Starsky took the other man’s mouth roughly with his own, firmly incapacitating Hutch and ravishing his lips and tongue until it seemed as though his very soul would be sucked into the violent current that was his partner. Hutch was pushed into the counter, his back beginning to spasm from the manner in which Starsky savagely ground against him. He tried to remain passive, sensing that this was only the other man’s first strike in the battle to regain his independence.

Finally his partner drew back and their eyes met and held for a long moment….Starsky’s fierce and determined and Hutch’s pleading for understanding and love.

“In the bedroom….now!” Starsky barked.

“Ooo-kay.” Hutch turned off the oven and docilely headed for the designated location, his partner on his heels.

Starsky threw himself tiredly down into a chair and looked up at the other man standing there, waiting further instructions.

“Undress for me, Hutch.” He ordered.

Hutch started to slowly unbutton his shirt, determined to make this good for his partner As gracefully as possible, he began to sway and move his hips a little, thinking Starsky would enjoy that, but apparently not.

“I didn’t say to make a big production number out of it, just take `em off!” Starsky reprimanded him.

Unaccustomed to hearing commands from his usually gentle lover, Hutch clenched his teeth. `So that’s the way it’s gonna be, huh?’ He thought, defiantly. But as loudly as his psyche was screaming for him to mutiny, his traitorous cock was telling him how much it
liked this game.

He finished stripping quickly and stood there, feeling somehow humiliated at being naked while his partner was still fully clothed. Starsky let him stand there for long moments, before ordering him up onto the bed, on his hands and knees, where he felt open and vulnerable as he heard the other man quickly shedding his clothes.

There were no preliminaries. Starsky entered him with such force that Hutch nearly toppled over, performed as though he were storming an enemy stronghold and finished spectacularly without once touching his lover other than gripping his hipbones so tightly that the blond couldn’t have moved forward if he’d tried. No effort was forthcoming toward comfort or help with the emotions he was left with, as his lover hurriedly dressed and left the bedroom. Hutch felt used and wondered distractedly if Starsky had left money for his services on the way out.

He dressed and went into the living room where he found Starsky on the couch, sitting dejectedly, the heels of his hands pressed tightly against his eyes. The slight irritation Hutch felt toward him dissipated into thin air.

“Starsk?”

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t seem to figure out my role in this relationship, Hutch.” Starsky looked up at him with weary eyes. “I’m floundering here. I don’t know what to do.”

Hutch sat down beside him. “Hey, I’m willing to do anything it takes. Do you think some kind of therapy would help?”

“Marriage counseling?” Starsky snorted and then his eyes widened. “Wait a minute! The last time I went to the doctor’s office, there was this article about role reversal. That could be the answer.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Hutch chuckled. “Trading places?” Realizing that Starsky was serious, the smile quickly faded off his face. “You’re not kidding?”

“You said you’d try anything.”

“Anything that makes sense. I don’t see how being you for…”

“Two days, Hutch. Give me two days.” Starsky actually seemed excited at the prospect, like a little boy anticipating a new game. “You’re always tellin’ me to walk a mile in somebody else’s shoes. Now here’s your chance to show me that it really works.”

“It’s pretty kinky, but if that’s what you want…” Hutch was less enthusiastic.

“Then it’s settled….tomorrow morning, you’re Starsky, I’m Hutch.”

“I can hardly wait,” Hutch sniped sarcastically.

“Then we can see what it’s like to be in each other’s skin…” Starsky chattered optimistically.

“And I’d much rather be in your….” Hutch tried to finish the sentence for him.

“And no sex of any kind. That’ll just distract us from what we’re trying to do.” Starsky babbled on.

Hutch couldn’t help glaring at him. “Okay, just remember…you asked for this.”

Starsky left to run a couple of errands while Hutch settled in on the couch to watch TV, wondering what the next two days would bring to their relationship and would it help them or drive them further apart.

Hutch was sleeping soundly by the time Starsky got back, so he covered him up and went to bed.

Starsky awoke to the intoxicating smell of bacon frying. Springing out of bed, he pulled on his jeans and hurried to the kitchen.

“Man, that smells good.” Pouring himself a cup of coffee and dousing it liberally with sugar, Starsky flopped down in a chair just as he did every morning.

Hutch set a full plate of bacon and eggs on the table, but across from Starsky.

“Really piques the taste buds, doesn’t it?” He said, with a raised eyebrow. He placed a full glass of murky looking, slightly lumpy gray liquid in front of Starsky. “There you are, a nutritious protein shake.”

“But, Hutch…”

“Uh-uh, you’re Hutch and this is what you’re having for breakfast.”

Starsky stared at his partner for a few seconds. “Somehow I knew this was gonna deteriorate into a `pissing contest.’ This was supposed to be about feelings.”

“Just trying to get into the role, partner.” Hutch grinned, blue eyes twinkling wickedly.

Starsky drained the nasty-looking concoction in one gulp and then quickly tried to kill the taste with too hot coffee and winced as he hurried to the sink to get some water. Then he leaned against the counter and eyed Hutch as he tucked a napkin into his collar and shoveled in the mouth-watering contents of what should have been his breakfast. As the last bite of bacon slid down Hutch’s throat, an evil thought popped into his curly-topped head. As his partner watched, he started ransacking the cupboards.

“Since you’re not having your seaweed stew, maybe you should take one of each of these little beauties.” Starsky produced at least ten bottles of assorted vitamins and minerals that Hutch had unilaterally decided that he needed, since he had refused to join his new lover in the health regimen that he favored. “Oh, and let me see if I can find that Cod Liver Oil you tricked me into taking. Maybe you should have some of that, too.” Starsky dashed into the bathroom, cackling with glee.

Hutch groaned. He was well aware that some of those vitamins were the size of horse pills and, while he’d become accustomed to consuming sea kelp and other rather unsavory-tasting substances, pills were difficult for him to swallow, a fact Starsky was well aware of. It was going to be a very long two days.

After breakfast, they both pitched in to clean the apartment. The day stretched out in front of them like a battlefield strewn with land mines, so they decided to get out of the house.

“Let’s hit Huggy’s. Might as well keep up with what’s goin’ down around Bay City as long as we have all this time to kill.” Starsky suggested.

“We could be in a boat enjoying Pine Lake .” Hutch countered.

“More likely roasting like a cat on a hot tin roof.”

Hutch snorted. “Don’t be so dramatic. They were shingles, not tin.” He opened the door, motioning Starsky politely through.

“Nope, you’re not goin’ out without a jacket, pal.” Starsky warned him. “It’s a little chilly out there.”

“Aw, c’mon, Starsk. You’re not wearing one.”

“I don’t have to…I’m you. You been makin’ me wear a jacket every day for the last year, rain or shine.”

“Okay…point taken.” Hutch rummaged in the closet to locate his well worn and seldom-used Varsity jacket, since he kept his lighter one at work. “This is way too heavy.” He griped.

“Better safe than sorry.” Starsky blissfully chirped a phrase that Hutch remembered saying dozens of times since Starsky’s shooting. Smiling ruefully, he followed his `way too happy’ partner out the door.

Starsky headed for the Torino , but a big hand landed on his shoulder.

“Uh, that’s my car and I don’t want to use it for the next two days.” Hutch pointed to the much-despised LTD, tossing Starsky the keys. “We’ll take yours.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead….” Catching the triumphant look on Hutch’s face, the dark-haired detective bit off the end of the sentence and climbed into the driver’s seat of the old Ford, grumbling to himself.

Hutch chuckled, knowing he’d just scored a major hit.

Huggy had just opened up, so there were few patrons there. Starsky and Hutch took a booth in the corner, sitting slightly further apart from each other than usual. Huggy, observant as always, noticed the gap between them.

“What it is, my constabulary friends? Do I detect a slight chill in the air?” Huggy gestured to the space around him. “I have more than one booth, should you want to sit in solitude.”

With a sidelong glance at his partner, Starsky muttered darkly. “You don’t haveta be a nature freak to know….when you’re in the forest, which birds are gonna crap on ya.”

“Oh, Starsk, get over it.” Hutch chuckled and turned to Huggy. “We’re off this week; I’ll have a vodka….”

“On the rocks with a twist and a splash of gin.” Huggy finished for him.

Hutch studied the bar’s owner quizzically.

“A great bartender never forgets.”

A lop-sided smile materialized on Starsky’s face. “No, I’ll have the vodka on the rocks; my buddy here will have a Virgin Mary.”

“You hate the taste of vodka.” Hutch protested.

“Ah, but you love it.” Starsky returned smugly.

Hutch rolled his eyes heavenward. “You heard the man, Hug. Oh…and bring me the greasiest onion rings you’ve got.”

“Scratch that, Huggy. They’re not good for him.” Starsky waved Huggy away.

“You white folk are just plain weird, you dig?” Huggy quipped as he left to get the drinks.

The blond detective turned to his irritating lover. “You think you’re really cute, don’t you?”

“No, you’re cute, I’m careful.”

Hutch held his long forefinger an inch from the other man’s nose. “You’d better be careful, `cause you’re treading on mighty thin ice, buster.”

“Buster?” Starsky narrowed his eyes and stared at Hutch. “May I remind you that you started this whole Laurel and Hardy routine this morning?”

“It started when you decided to throw a fit about having to take a vacation, which I have a lot of trouble trying to understand.” Hutch growled in an undertone.

“Yeah….well, as long as bears shit in the woods, Pine Lake is off limits, as far as I’m concerned.”

Huggy appeared with their drinks, so the conversation was shelved momentarily, but the bar was beginning to get busy, so the man didn’t linger.

Starsky took one cautious sip of the vodka and cringed. “This needs about a quart of orange juice to make it drinkable.”

“Vodka’s not supposed to have much taste.” Hutch said, conversationally,

“Neither do those who drink it.” Starsky remarked dryly. “Here, you take it…peace offering.” He pushed it over to Hutch. “I’ll drink the tomato juice.”

“You don’t like tomato juice.” Hutch waved Huggy back over to the booth.

“I’d love a beer, Hug.” Starsky conceded. “And bring us both a burger and fries, okay?”

“Now you’re talkin’, my man.” Huggy looked relieved. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d seen the two of you on `Invasion of the Body Snatchers.'”

“It ain’t entirely over yet, Huggy.” Starsky grumbled as the other man left to fill their order. “I wonder which one he means.”

“Which one what?” Hutch asked, hesitantly.

“Which movie…the one in 56 or the one a few years ago? There’s a lot of difference in the two.” Starsky began to warm to his subject. “The only common denominator was the writer, Jack Finney. The first movie starred Dana Wynter and Kevin McCarthy and was a much more accurate adaptation of the novel, while the other one starred Donald Sutherland and Brooke Adams and…”

“It amazes me that you are such a fountain of absolutely useless information, but will pay three thousand dollars of our money for a house that’s wa-a-ay past being ready to be condemned.” Hutch groaned, shaking his head.

“You never have forgiven me for that one, have you?” Starsky asked, grinning widely.

Blue eyes met and held each other in a loving embrace. Instinctively, the distance between them in the booth was bridged.

“I’d forgive you anything, lover, `cept leaving me. Don’t ever do that.” Hutch begged.

“Don’t think I could, if I wanted to.” Starsky returned quickly.

“I’m sorry. I got a little carried away.” Hutch’s warm hand rubbed the other man’s thigh beneath the table. “Just tell me what you want from me, Starsk.”

“Right here?” Starsky questioned. “You think this is the right place to talk about this stuff?”

“I think it’s the perfect place.”

“But Huggy doesn’t know about us. He might guess…” Starsky eyed the almost painfully thin man behind the bar with some alarm.

“Starsk, the man makes a good living from reading other people, in more ways than one.” Hutch smiled reassuringly. “I’d lay you odds that he knew how we felt about each other even before we did.”

“That’s pretty scary.”

“What’s scary?” Huggy set their order down in front of them.

“Starsky…he thinks he’s in love again.” Hutch blurted out, grinning at his awestruck lover.

“I’m not one to be judgmental about a person’s lifestyle, but why don’t you two just get a room?” Huggy said matter-of-factly. “You got my blessing, but I don’t want you to be scarin’ away my more conventional customers, if you get my drift.”

Hutch burst into laughter at the look on Starsky’s face. Huggy was distracted by a loud clatter from the kitchen and departed in a dignified manner to see what was happening in that realm of his domain.

“Shut your mouth, Starsk. I may be tempted to kiss you right here.” Hutch wheezed between fits of giggles.

Blushing violently, Starsky’s eyes widened and his mouth closed with an audible snap, eliciting further cackles from his partner.

Hunger took over and talking ceased for the space of about ten minutes. Huggy returned unsolicited to set a fresh drink in front of each of them and they settled back in the booth, sated and content.

“So, talk to me. Tell me exactly what you expect from me.” Hutch started the conversation again.

Starsky looked quizzically around, but no one seemed to be paying the slightest attention to them.

“I don’t know any better way to explain it to you. I want to belong to you, but I don’t want you to own me.” Starsky made a frustrated gesture with his hands. “It’s like the Fourth of July. I just want my independence back.”

“I do understand. It’s kind of a tall order for me, though.” Hutch stretched out his legs and laid his head on the back of the booth, stealing a glance at the man next to him. “We’ve never talked much about last year. Feel up to it?”

“If it has any bearing on what’s happening now.”

Hutch sat up straight with his arms on the table and nearly lost himself in the dark blue gaze focused intently on him. Sometimes it almost gave him vertigo, the bottomless depths of those eyes.

“Hutch?”

“Maybe it goes way back, Starsk. My folks loved me, but they didn’t pay a lot of attention to me. You know how much I grew to depend on my grandparents, but they were killed in a car accident when I was only thirteen.”

Starsky had no trouble reading the pain in his partner’s eyes and casually laid his arm across the back of the booth. “I know how much that hurt you. I’m really sorry, babe.”

“You know….you amaze me.” Hutch sat back a little, leaning into the arm as much as he could without it being obvious that Starsky was virtually hugging him in public. “You’ve been through things that would level most people and you have this way of letting them wash over you like waves, I guess I should say breakers.” He sighed heavily. “I try to control everything around me. Guess I have a god complex.” A rueful laugh, almost a sob, broke lose from deep inside his chest.

“Hutch, shouldn’t we go home where we can cuddle up and…”

“You said no sex and you’re right. It would just distract us.”
“I wish I’d keep my mouth shut sometimes.” Starsky muttered.

“I’ve wished that on a few occasions, too, but you’re a wise man, my friend.” Hutch whispered. “I’ve never had as much trouble keeping my hands off of any woman I’ve been with as I do you. Never considered myself gay and I still get turned on by a beautiful woman….not that it means anything to me. But you….you’re a habit I’ll never be able to break.”

Starsky felt his face flush again and realized he was totally mesmerized by the words Hutch was speaking to him in public. Not that anyone was watching, but it was an incredible turn on. He sensed these were things Hutch had been holding onto for a long while, so he let him go on uninterrupted.

“After being married to Van, god….what a farce that was! Abby leaving me, and then Gillian, dying….all of it, completely outside of my control. No matter how hard I tried, everything I did to keep a lid on things….nothing worked.”

“Nothing you could’ve done, Hutch, `specially with Gillian.”

“The last straw was you telling me you were in love with that….that she-devil.”

“Also ancient history and not something I even want to talk about.” Starsky grumbled. Thinking about Kira always made him feel as though someone had just thrown a big bucket of ice water on him. But Hutch kept on as though he hadn’t heard him.

“I couldn’t even fathom what got into me. I wasn’t out to hurt you….or maybe I was. I wanted you for myself and it made me mad to see you with her, but I didn’t understand it. I just knew somewhere in my gut, if I couldn’t have you, nobody was going to.” Hutch reached his hand down to hold Starsky’s, which was resting quietly on the seat of the booth. He rubbed his thumb gently across the knuckles.

“But that day….when you got shot….I never in my life felt so out-of-control. There was no way to get to you and when I ran around that car and saw you, all that blood. That’s the moment when I knew, Starsk.” Hutch squeezed the hand he held in his. “That’s exactly when I realized, `this is the one person I can’t live without.'”

“You know I feel the same way.” Starsky murmured.

“When the doctor came out and told us you probably wouldn’t make it through the night, I lost it. I was so fuckin’ angry; there are things that I don’t even remember about all that time you were in a coma.” Hutch rubbed his temples. “I think the blinding fury was all that kept me from total meltdown. You beat the odds, Starsk, but how many more times can you do that?”

“Like you said, `it’s out of your control’. Making sure that I take my vitamins, wear my jacket, eat the right foods, and get plenty of sleep….there are a million things that could kill me….or you, for that matter.” Starsky said softly.

“I know that in my head….but tell it to my heart, the one that almost stopped beating when yours did.”

“I’ve been by your side ever since I met you.” Starsky rubbed the shoulder furthest away from him. “What makes you think I’d let you go now?”

The crystal-blue eyes looked suspiciously bright and Starsky felt helpless, wanting nothing more than to wrap the other man up in his arms and make it all better. The answer came in a simple four-word sentence that could have filled volumes and used up wells of ink to explain Ken Hutchinson.

“Because everyone else has.”

“Oh, baby. I never started this to bring on that kind of hurt.” Starsky turned over the hand holding his in a death grip and massaged it gently. “Let’s just go home and forget all this madness.”

“No, feels good to say it. God knows I’ve been thinking it long enough.”

“What happened last year….all of it….it’s over. Your childhood, painful and unhappy as it may have been….it’s over. Your marriage, your love for Gillian, Hutch….it’s over. Do you think we’d ever be over, even if one of us was gone?”

“Too many great memories. I guess they’d always be there, unless we end up senile.” Hutch smiled slightly at the thought of himself as an old man. “Do you think I’m gonna go bald?”

Starsky chuckled. “Nah, you’ll always be my Blondie. Now, get up and take me home, `cause I’m not drivin’ that wreck anymore.” He produced the keys and passed them to the car’s rightful owner.

“So we’re done with the role reversal experiment?” Hutch questioned.

“I’m not sayin’ I won’t drag it out again if we need a refresher course, but yeah….one day’s all I can handle.” Starsky grinned.

“Promise….I’ll try not to smother you anymore.”

“And I’ll try not to be so irritating….okay?”

“So the ban on sex….is that over, too?” Hutch asked hopefully.

Starsky’s eyes sparkled devilishly. “Whatcha got in mind, Blintz?”

“If you don’t get out of here fast, you’re gonna find out right here, and there’s no way Huggy’s ever going to forgive us.” Hutch grinned and winked at him.

Starsky jumped up so fast, he spilled the remainder of his drink. “I’m there, partner.” He nearly raced out of the bar, while Hutch sauntered after him, stopping to pay Huggy for the meal.

“Consider it a `coming-out party’, Hutch, my friend.” Huggy clapped him on the shoulder. “I’d advise you to get out there. Looks like you got Starsky so primed; he’s liable to run all the way home.”

“You’re wrong there, Hug.” Hutch smiled happily. “I’m Starsky….he’s Hutch. When it comes right down to it, we’re interchangeable.”

Huggy watched him closely as he left; noticing that his shoulders didn’t seem to slump as much and his step seemed a bit lighter than it had been for awhile.

“I’ll be damned. I thought those two would never figure it all out.” He chuckled to himself as he rejoined his newest cocktail waitress behind the bar.

Never the end….