Missing Scene Showcase

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Enjoy missing scenes from previous episodes.

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Healing Motions
by Candy Apple

 

(A Missing Scene taking place before Ep501, “The Best Thing”)

Art by Shrift

SHSVS Missing Scene Showcase

 

 

Hutch leaned against the wall and braced himself for the pain to come. It would sear through the shoulder and chest, pulling muscles until they protested, sending red hot pokers of sensation through an already pain-wracked body. He felt tears threaten, burning at his already tired eyes.

“We’re not progressing here, Mr. Starsky. You need to work with me a little,” the young blonde woman said, her tone sounding calculatingly gentle. The expression on her face was one of bored frustration. The stifled moan that came from Starsky as he struggled to raise his arm to the level she felt it should go could have just as easily been wrenched from the pit of Hutch’s own soul. With the bed in a flat position and Starsky on his back, today’s project was getting his arm as far up as possible, the ultimate goal being for him to raise it above his head.

Just butt out, Hutchinson. You wanted to stay here and watch this, so now you’re just going to have to get used to seeing him in pain. It’s part of the healing. Hutch ran his hand over his face and found his palm came away damp with cold sweat.

“Okay, that’s good. You’re doing great. Now, just a little bit more,” she encouraged, starting to put a bit of pressure on Starsky’s left arm to move it farther upward. His eyes were closed, and Hutch watched a single tear leak out from beneath the dark lashes.

“I…can’t….”

“I know it hurts, but the doctor said you’re ready to start working more aggressively on regaining your motion and strength. He wouldn’t advise that if it weren’t safe. You can do it.”

Easy for you to say, lady. You haven’t had three bullets rip through your flesh and chew up your muscles and your bones and your tissues. Hutch did his best not to move forward, not to go to his partner. Starsky had to make progress, and with that progress would come pain. That was inevitable.

“No more,” Starsky said, and despite his weakness and the pain he was in, there was a note of decisiveness in the voice that flooded Hutch with relief. What’re you relieved about? It’s not you lying there in agony…but, God, I feel every pull on those incisions as if they were my own…. Well, at least the torture session is over for today.

“Just a bit more. We’re almost there,” the therapist said, her voice holding more than a little impatience, as if she were dealing with a whining child.

“That’s enough,” Hutch spoke up, and found himself at Starsky’s bedside before he even realized he’d moved. When the therapist didn’t release Starsky’s arm fast enough for his taste, he grasped her wrist in one large hand and pulled her hand away from his partner, while supporting the downward motion of Starsky’s arm with his other hand. “If he says ‘no more,’ no more.”

“Mr. Hutchinson, if your partner hopes to regain the normal use of his limbs, he’s going to have to move them. And moving them is going to hurt. If you’re going to stay in the room and watch his therapy, you’re going to have to understand that.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Hutch looked back down at Starsky, whose eyes were still closed, lashes damp. His hand found and held onto Hutch’s tightly.

“Let me help you understand something, lady. This man has been through hell and he’s in a lot of pain. There’s nothing he wants more than to get better again and to get back to normal. He’s endured pain in his life you can’t even imagine. Do you know this is the third time he’s been shot in the line of duty? If he says he can’t take it anymore, then he can’t, and if you had one ounce of compassion or concern for your patients, you’d know that without being told.”

“What I know is what the doctor has instructed me to do. And I don’t recall hearing where you got your medical degree,” she shot back, gathering up her chart and the two small rubber balls she’d brought for Starsky to squeeze. “I take my orders from Mr. Starsky’s doctor, not his police associates.”

Hutch gently disengaged his hand from Starsky’s and followed her across the room.

“I’m more than his ‘police associate.’ I’m listed on his hospital records as his next of kin. I have his power of attorney when he’s unable to speak for himself. And I’m giving you an instruction you better listen to. You stay out of this room and away from my partner. If you touch him–if you so much as come near this room again–I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

“You’ll have me arrested for doing my job? I should like to see you try that,” she said, tucking her pen in the pocket of her lab coat.

“Don’t push me. I mean it. You stay away from my partner. You have no business working with patients. You don’t keep pushing someone when they’re afraid and their muscles tense up. The doctor approved him working on raising his arms–not doing resistance exercises with you pushing one way and him pushing the other! You could seriously re–injure him trying to force his arm beyond the range he can endure. That’s what you were doing, isn’t it? Not supporting his arm, but pushing it–and then continuing to push it even when he clearly couldn’t take it anymore and started trying to resist it?” Hutch demanded, and he saw a momentary flash of guilt cross the woman’s features. “You’re a disgrace to your profession and this isn’t the last you’ve heard of this.”

“Of all the…!” She stormed toward the door. “I don’t have to take this kind of abuse!”

“Neither does my partner.” Hutch watched her stride out the door and slam it angrily behind her.

“Hutch?” The soft voice from behind him made Hutch turn suddenly to look back at the bed. Starsky was looking at him now, a distressed expression on his face. “I’m really doin’ lousy, huh?”

“You’re doing fine, buddy. Your therapist was a jerk, that’s all.” Hutch moved closer to the bed. “How’s the pain?”

“Call for back-up, will ya?” Starsky joked weakly, holding up the buzzer that would summon a nurse. Hutch had to smile at that, despite the fact he was putting in a call for more pain medication. A moment later, a nurse walked into the room, and Hutch smiled with relief when he saw it was Gretchen. The older woman had taken a sort of motherly liking to Starsky, and she had a compassionate attitude toward his constant companion who could, at times, get under the nurses’ feet.

“Could he have something for pain? The therapy session was pretty rough on him,” Hutch said.

“I think so.” She consulted Starsky’s chart. “He’s due for his medication in about fifteen minutes, so I’ll bring it in a little early,” Gretchen said, smiling pleasantly. “Getting started on therapy is always a big adjustment, but it’ll get easier,” she added, smiling at Starsky. “You’re doing much more on your own than you were a few days ago. It just takes time,” she said, heading for the door.

“I also need to talk to the doctor sometime this afternoon, if he’s around.”

“He should be stopping by to check on David when he does his final rounds.” She looked at her watch. “I’d say a couple hours from now.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” Starsky said quietly. When Hutch turned back to look at him, he managed a smile. “Not the therapist’s fault I’m a basket case.”

“Starsky, you’re not a basket case. She had no business forcing you.” Hutch picked up the control that determined the position of the bed. “You want to raise up a little?” At Starsky’s tight nod, he raised the upper half of the bed so Starsky was no longer flat on his back. He walked into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cool water, then returned to sit on the side of Starsky’s bed. “Close your eyes and try to relax, okay?” Hutch gently bathed Starsky’s face, removing the fine sheen of cold sweat that was brought about by the painful therapy session. He paused in his ministrations when he saw a fresh tear leaking out of one closed eye. “Pain bad?”

“I’m sick of it,” Starsky managed, swallowing audibly. “I don’t wanna hurt anymore.”

“I know.” Hutch shifted positions so he sat with his back against the upper part of the partially raised mattress, and eased Starsky closer, managing to get his arms around him in the process.

“I just want it to stop,” Starsky muttered, his breath hitched with tears. Hutch imagined the crying hurt, too.

“Hurting is part of healing, buddy. Hurting means you’re alive.” Hutch choked on his own encouragements, and he didn’t have the heart to keep up the pep talk anymore. “I know it hurts, babe. It’s not fair and I wish I could take it for you so you could go to sleep and rest easy without it.” He stroked Starsky’s hair. “It’ll get better, I promise.” He rested his head against Starsky’s and held him as firmly as he dared.

“I couldn’t do it, Hutch. I tried. I…it pulled and the pain was really bad.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Starsk. She had the technique of a lady wrestler.”

“I shoulda been able to do that much,” Starsky said miserably.

“When it hurt, you tensed up and tried to fight the motion, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, like I said, I shoulda–”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You had a very natural reaction to the pain. The doctor okay’d you moving your arms to a certain extent, but he didn’t approve resistance exercises. That’s what it turned into when you wanted to stop and she kept pushing. She was doing it wrong. Not you.”

“You mean you weren’t just mad at her because the therapy hurt?”

“No, there was a little more to it than that.” Hutch smiled, carefully rubbing Starsky’s back, making sure his hand was clear of putting pressure on the healing exit wounds. “You did just fine. I know some of your therapy’s going to hurt. No getting around that. But I also know what she was doing was wrong.”

“Then I didn’t mess up?” Starsky asked, his voice holding a trace of hopefulness.

“She messed up, not you.” Hutch was relieved to see Gretchen arrive with the little cup containing Starsky’s pain medication. She handed it to Hutch and left the room with a smile and no further comment. “The good-time pills are here, buddy.” Hutch rattled the two small pills in the paper cup. Starsky snorted a little laugh, then tensed a bit at the pain it caused. After he’d swallowed them with a few gulps of water, he rested quietly against Hutch for a few minutes, then broke the silence.

“Could we try it?”

“Try what?”

“You said it hurt because I was tensing up. I’m real relaxed now. Maybe I could do it.”

“I don’t know, Starsk…I don’t want to get you hurting again.”

“Please?” Starsky moved away and treated Hutch to his best hound dog eyes.

“Okay.” Hutch smiled and shook his head, moving to sit facing Starsky instead of next to him. “Let’s lower the bed a little so you’re flatter again.” Hutch did just that, and then took a gentle hold of the arm that had been the source of so much pain. “I’m going to support your arm just to take some of the pull away, okay? You do the moving yourself.”

“Okay. I’m not real fast.”

“No stopwatch running, partner. Take your time.” Hutch watched, sorely tempted to tell Starsky not to push himself, wishing his partner would be content to just take a nap before dinner and let the pain meds do their magic.

To his surprise, Starsky’s arm moved up to the point it had with the therapist, and then, just a bit farther.

“Let’s let it back down, buddy, you’re doin’ great,” Hutch encouraged, guiding Starsky’s arm back down to the bed. The other man was a little out of breath and had obviously felt pain in the motion, but he’d managed it.

“I did okay?”

“You made it farther than you did a few minutes ago with the Marquis de Sade.” Hutch smiled and Starsky returned it, managing to avoid an actual laugh this time.

“I’m not afraid when you do it.” Starsky’s face lit up as he seized the idea fully. “Maybe you could do my therapy.”

“I wish I could, but I don’t know enough to do it. I’m not qualified, and I could end up hurting you by mistake.”

“You wouldn’t do that. Besides, that girl was supposed t’be qualified and she hurt me worse than you ever would’ve. This isn’t all that hard, Hutch. Just pullin’ my arms up and down.”

“I’m sure your full therapy regimen will be a little more complex than that,” Hutch said, chuckling at Starsky’s summation.

“Okay, so some’a the stuff you can’t do, but you could do some of it,” Starsky argued, giving Hutch the full benefit of his pleading expression and beseeching eyes.

“Tell you what. I’ll do whatever parts I can learn how to do, and I’ll stick around for your sessions–at least until you feel like you can handle ’em without back-up,” Hutch added, grinning. Starsky smiled back, more brightly than Hutch had seen since before the shooting.

“Okay.” Starsky yawned widely. “Oh, man, those pills knock me out.”

“Don’t fight it, buddy. Get some sleep. I’ll run down to the cafeteria and get a bite to eat.”

“Get me some chocolate ice cream, okay?” Starsky asked as Hutch slowly lowered the upper part of the bed until it was only slightly raised. He turned off the light and drew the drapes.

“Chocolate ice cream? I better clear it with Gretchen.”

“Who do you think brought me some last night after you left?”

“Chocolate ice cream it is, then,” Hutch agreed, smiling and patting Starsky’s shoulder before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Gretchen was at the nurses’ station, talking on the phone, making notes on a chart. Hutch waited until she’d finished. A stout woman with gray curly hair and a pleasant manner, she always seemed to be in a good mood–even when the hours were long and the work tedious.

“He asked for chocolate ice cream–there’s no problem with that, is there?” Hutch asked her. “He said you got him some last night, but I didn’t know he could have ice cream.”

“Just a little scoop, and I cleared it with his doctor. He was having a lot of pain last night after you left, so I thought it would distract him.” She smiled. “Sometimes I think you work better on him than the pain pills. He never complains until after you go home.”

“Maybe I should stick around–”

“You have to sleep sometime and we do sedate him at night, so that’s your best time to go. Besides, you usually come back about three in the morning anyway, don’t you?” she asked, tidying up some papers on the desk, not noticing Hutch’s stunned expression until she looked up to see why he’d fallen silent. “Oh, honey, don’t tell me you thought I didn’t know? Just don’t let one of the doctors catch you, because if they do, I’m pleading the Fifth,” she joked, tapping him on the shoulder with the file she was holding. “Go have dinner. He’ll sleep a while now, and he’ll be looking for his ice cream when he wakes up.” With that, she turned and walked toward another patient’s room.

Completely disillusioned with his inability to slip in unnoticed in the small hours of the morning, Hutch trudged down to the cafeteria for his dinner, which he didn’t want to think about too much. He imagined he’d consumed more sodium, fat and preservatives in the last two weeks to last him a lifetime. As he stood in line in the cafeteria, pulling somewhat unappetizing selections off the shelf to add to his tray, he had to smile at Gretchen’s words. Sometimes I think you work better on him than the pain pills.

That thought made all the late nights, back pain from sleeping in chairs, and rubber cafeteria meals fade into insignificance. Hutch could hardly contain his smile, even in the face of Memorial Hospital’s Tuesday night tuna surprise dinner special.

 

 

Quiet Night In
by Candy Apple

(A missing scene “tag” for Ep501, “The Best Thing,”)

Art by Virginia Sky

SHSVS Missing Scene Showcase

 

 

It was a little cool and a bit cloudy, the kind of day that disappoints most beach-goers. To Starsky, it seemed perfect. The private stretch of beach beneath the bluff where they had shared their first kiss the night before was peaceful and quiet except for the sound of the waves and the occasional cry of a seagull. They’d taken their time traveling down the long flight of wooden steps that led to the beach from the bluff, and Hutch had outlined in no uncertain terms just how slowly they’d make the return ascent, and how many pauses for rest would be taken. Walking along the shore with Hutch, hand-in-hand, Starsky felt as if he could scale that configuration of rock and grass without benefit of stairs.

The fine blond hair was doing its usual dance with the breeze, the light blue shirt Hutch wore loose over his jeans billowing a little as they walked. The long legs ended in rolled up jeans and bare feet that left their marks in the moist sand. Starsky had also just pulled on his jeans and thrown on a shirt, rolling up his own jeans into cuffs so they could meander out close to where the ocean kissed the sand.

This precious day was a gift. They were bound to face a lot of hardships and obstacles once the real world intruded on the magic that had grown between them out here, but for now, they were still safely wrapped in this fantasy, with nothing to distract them from loving each other and savoring each other’s company. There was no reason not to hold hands, and no reason not to make love right there on the beach. Starsky fervently hoped Hutch would be willing to do just that.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Hutch said, smiling as he looked at Starsky, who smiled back. He couldn’t remember seeing Hutch this relaxed in weeks.

“Just thinking about lovin’ you,” Starsky answered honestly. “Thinking I was glad you showed up here last night.”

“We’ll have to send Anita some flowers.”

“Or leave her a decent tip for a change,” Starsky quipped, and Hutch chuckled, but it was a little hollow. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“You went to a lot of trouble to be sure I couldn’t find you.”

“I just needed time to think, that’s all. I knew I’d take one look at you and not be able to go through with calling it quits. So I figured I had to be on my own to think things through.”

“Just don’t take off on me again, Starsk. If things are rough, or I screw up, or something happens and we hurt each other…just don’t…run away.”

“This wasn’t about running away. I didn’t leave because I was mad at you for something.”

“I know that. But you left to solve something that was between us, and I don’t want to be left out of those decisions.”

“That’s fair.” Starsky sighed. “Leaving wasn’t exactly the right move, but stayin’ didn’t seem to be working out so great, either. I knew I’d never have the guts to tell you to your face what I wrote in the letter. I knew it would hurt too much and I couldn’t do it.”

“I just want you to get one thing straight,” Hutch said, stopping and turning to face Starsky. “I want you. Only you.” Hutch smiled softly, taking a hold of Starsky’s free hand so he held both tightly. “I think it’s always really only been you.”

“I wanna do something real special for you, Blondie.” Starsky moved in for a long kiss, then pulled back, grinning.

“We left a blanket back there by the steps,” Hutch inclined his head in that direction.

“Guess we don’t wanna get sand in any bad places,” Starsky conceded, smiling mischievously as they walked hand-in-hand back to the spot where they’d left their little stash of supplies.

Hutch spread out the blanket while Starsky peeked under the lid of the picnic basket Hutch had packed. He could see there was wine and cheese in there, but he wasn’t very interested in food at the moment. When Hutch reached toward him, he half expected the lid to be slapped down, since he’d been snooping into the goodies his partner had somewhat surreptitiously assembled, most likely to surprise Starsky. Instead, the hand cradled his chin and pressed upward gently until their eyes met.

“I love you so much, babe. I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Hutch managed, his eyes bright with moisture. “I…I’m just…I’m glad you’re here,” he repeated, and Starsky understood what he’d been thinking. Wishing he could erase the memories of their close call from his lover’s mind to free him of the pain and the torment and the lingering fear those memories brought with them, Starsky pulled him into a tight embrace.

It felt good to have the strength to do so many things again, but mostly, it felt good to hug Hutch back. All the times Hutch had held him, hugged him, soothed him, lifted him…all Starsky could do then was hold on weakly and absorb that love and strength. Now he could give it back–he could hold Hutch, and he could share his strength. Hutch had been so solicitous and attentive throughout Starsky’s recovery, and he’d taken each setback so hard…it was as if he’d been willing his very life force into Starsky, and had sapped himself of much of his own strength in the process.

“I’m here, Hutch. I’m fine and I’m here. I’m never gonna leave you again.” Starsky knew it was an impossible promise to make, but at that moment, he meant it with all his heart. Even death had taken a back seat to the love and connection he felt with Hutch. Huggy had been a bit unnerved by the fact that as Hutch slammed through the doors and ran down the hospital corridor, Starsky’s heart had lurched back to life, just when the doctor was about to pronounce him dead. He’d relayed that story with some uneasy joking about timing being everything. Starsky knew timing had little to do with it–it was love. Love so powerful it wouldn’t let him go even when his body tried.

“If you try, I’ll hunt you down like a dog,” Hutch responded, his voice a little shaky but holding definite humor. “I know who you know, what you know and how you know it, and there ain’t no way around that,” he added, pulling back as Starsky started laughing, hearing the echo of his own words from their last ill-fated game of hide-and-seek.

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want a way around it,” Starsky said, pressing a soft kiss against Hutch’s lips, “ever.”

They fell back together on the blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms, kisses deepening. Starsky could feel Hutch’s arousal under the denim, the warm firmness of it against his exploring hand sending shivers down his spine. Hutch was big, and he was powerful…he wasn’t small and fragile and soft like a woman. They were equals in every way…at least, Starsky hoped they would be again someday. Still, held here in Hutch’s arms, exchanging breath-stealing kisses, feeling the urgency and the passion of his partner directed at him, Starsky knew the ultimate performance of his healed body in a gym wasn’t what made him precious to this man. All he had to do to be precious and necessary to Hutch was to simply exist.

He unbuttoned Hutch’s jeans and pulled the zipper down carefully, breaking the embrace to slide one hand protectively under the metal teeth. Since their walk on the beach had followed a long morning of nude lovemaking among the pillows in the living room, all they’d done was grab the handiest clothing to cover themselves to go down to the beach. Underwear had seemed an unnecessary inconvenience. He smiled as he heard a breathy sigh from Hutch as the rigid cock sprang free. It was warm and silky and hard in Starsky’s hand, and he pumped it gently.

“C’mere, babe. Let me–”

“Shh,” Starsky interrupted. “This is just for you, darlin’. Because I love ya so much.” Starsky smiled then, and Hutch returned it, putting his arm up behind him and resting his head on it, watching Starsky and lifting his hips as Starsky worked the tight jeans down the long, sturdy legs and then tossed them aside. Starsky felt the uncomfortable tightness of his own jeans now, but ignored it. He wanted to approach this act with the single-minded concentration it deserved.

“Starsk, what…?” Hutch sounded stunned as Starsky wrapped one hand around the base of the impressive cock and engulfed the head of it in his mouth. He hoped what he lacked in experience and technique, he could make up for with love and enthusiasm. He’d never thought there could be anything positive about sucking another man’s cock, and before he could let all the doubts and fears and introspection freeze him from making love to Hutch the way he wanted to, he just…jumped in.

As Hutch moaned with a sound that was almost a desperate whimper of pleasure, the world became very small, and all the negative things society, cops, relatives, politicians, religious elders or shocked friends might think of this act didn’t exist. The only thing that existed was the vulnerable and yet powerful part of Hutch that Starsky held captive, wrapped in his hand and entrapped in his mouth. Smooth, firm and salty at the tip, there was no moment of horror to overcome, no terrible sense of diminishing manhood, just the hard column of flesh in his mouth, at his mercy…one more part of Hutch over which he had the frightening power to hurt or love. One more part of himself, along with his heart and his will to live, that Hutch was entrusting to him.

He sucked gently at first, knowing what he liked to feel but having no idea how the person on the giving end would accomplish that. He ran his tongue along the underside, and when Hutch grunted a bit uncomfortably, realized he’d forgotten to keep his teeth completely off the sensitive skin. He drew back and kissed it in apology, then took Hutch into his mouth again and, careful to keep his teeth from scraping, started sucking. He increased the intensity, and when Hutch gasped and moaned in pleasure, he knew he was doing something right. He angled his head so he could run his tongue along the slit, tasting the fluid beginning to emerge there. He used his other hand to gently cup and roll the heavy balls.

“Starsk…oh, babe…God, it’s good. So good,” Hutch encouraged breathlessly. If Starsky had dared smile, he would have. He wanted badly to move his hand and swallow Hutch whole, but he knew he’d never manage it, probably hurt his mouth and throat in the process, and then Hutch would be so consumed with guilt that it would ruin everything. So, despite his temptation, he kept his hand gently in place, more to control himself than Hutch.

Soon, he felt Hutch try to pull back, and Starsky knew what that meant. He reached up with his free hand and laced his fingers with Hutch’s, holding on tightly. Stay right where you are, you beautiful blond. I’m not finished with you yet.

When Hutch came, he let out a cry of Starsky’s name that was accompanied by the cry of seagulls and the motion of waves on the water. Bitter fluid flooded Starsky’s mouth, and he did his best to take it all, though he lost a bit and coughed a little as he tried to keep up with the swallowing. Still, he refused to release the softening cock until it had given him all it had. Until it had shared with him all of Hutch that it would surrender. He kissed the tender flesh gently, and licked the escaped fluid off his lips. Hutch reached down and grasped his shoulders then, pulling upward until Starsky lay against him, and they kissed, deeply.

“I don’t know what to say,” Hutch admitted in a whisper. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.” Hutch smiled, that sweet, sappy, goofy smile that spread over those beautiful features when Hutch was head-over-heels in love. Only this time, it was directed at Starsky. His heart swelled at that thought, and he kissed Hutch again.

“We’re amazing.” He ran his fingertips over Hutch’s strong, perfect features, and smiled when his hand was caught and kissed thoroughly, fingers, palm and back.

“Somebody’s getting sick of waiting,” Hutch teased, slipping a hand down to gently squeeze the bulge in Starsky’s jeans. Starsky couldn’t help but groan against Hutch’s neck. Just getting his pants open would be a joy in itself. Anything Hutch did to him beyond that would be heaven. He was so achingly hard now that the motion of Hutch’s hands on the button and zipper of the jeans was nearly enough to finish him. He eagerly lifted his hips so Hutch could get the restrictive jeans out of their way.

Though he knew it shouldn’t matter so much, he was overjoyed when Hutch left his shirt just as it was. They were probably both a sight out there on the beach, loose shirts still in place, naked from the waist down, but for just this moment in time, Starsky knew he didn’t look any different to his partner than he ever had. The evidence of Gunther’s hit was hidden from view, as was the unmarred perfection of the expanse of Hutch’s chest and belly. No comparisons…. Starsky knew it wasn’t Hutch making comparisons. In his head, he knew. In his heart, he still wanted to hide behind a shirt.

“Feeling okay, buddy?” Hutch asked, looking concerned now.

“Fine. Feeling great. Got a feeling I’m gonna feel even better in a minute,” Starsky teased, reaching up to push some flyaway hair off Hutch’s face. “Sometimes I just get to lookin’ at you and forget about everything else.”

“When I look at you, there isn’t anything else, because you’re already everything,” Hutch said sincerely, his voice shaking just a little. He moved in for a kiss then, before moving down between Starsky’s parted thighs.

“You don’t have to do it because I did it,” Starsky said, worried that Hutch felt a need to show his willingness to “repay” what Starsky had done.

“I want to do it. I probably won’t be much good at it–”

“My technique wouldn’t’a won any medals either, babe,” Starsky responded with a chuckle.

“Got us to the finish line, didn’t it?”

“Yours will, too, Blintz. Just make love to me. Whatever you do’s gonna be great ’cause it’s you doin’ it.”

Hutch smiled at that, and moved down to nuzzle the warm skin just below Starsky’s navel, pushing the shirt out of the way. He kissed a path down to the dark curls at the base of the rigid shaft, and wrapped one of those large, warm hands around it, pumping gently. Starsky groaned and thrust into the familiar hand, and expected Hutch would either take him in his mouth or finish him this way. Instead, he felt a touch that was maddeningly light and heart-breakingly gentle at the same time. Those full lips were kissing the head of his cock. Then they were sliding down its length, sucking Starsky’s cock into the wet heat until the lips bumped into the fingers of the hand still holding the base.

“Watch the teeth, babe,” Starsky cautioned gently, feeling only a little accidental scrape. Whatever Hutch did with his mouth then, he covered the offending teeth and began to suck harder, his tongue swirling around the head. Cursing the fact he didn’t quite have the flexibility and stamina yet to hold himself up and watch longer, Starsky relaxed back on the blanket, closing his eyes and soaking up the wonderful sensations, letting go freely with his moans of pleasure, wanting Hutch to know how much he was loving this.

Hutch’s hand was gently squeezing and massaging his balls now, teasing the sensitive skin behind them. As Hutch ventured to move his hand from the base of the long cock in his mouth, Starsky did his best not to thrust upward too hard into the virgin mouth that surrounded him. Hutch’s hand found his and laced their fingers.

“Hutch…love you…I’m gonna….” Starsky felt his body stiffening and arching, glad the hand he wasn’t holding was on his hip now, helping moderate the instinct to thrust. As he came, he shouted Hutch’s name, squeezing the hand laced with his, loving that Hutch was doing his somewhat clumsy best to drink him down. Neither of them had perfected his technique yet, but Starsky sighed as he relaxed, thinking of how wonderful it would be to keep trying.

“Rest, babe. I’m right here,” Hutch was whispering in his ear, and Starsky knew he was drifting. It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him, and he was falling asleep.

“That was….” Starsky managed to pull Hutch in for a long kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too, buddy. Let your body rest. We’ve been giving it a real workout today,” Hutch said gently, a smile in his voice as he gathered Starsky close in his arms and pulled up a corner of the blanket to cover their naked lower halves.

 

 

It was cooler when Starsky opened his eyes. There was still no sunshine, so it was hard to figure just what time of day it was. He was still in Hutch’s arms and not eager to relinquish the comfortable position. Finally, he looked up and saw two beautiful blue eyes looking back down at him, filled with more love than it seemed any one human deserved.

“Hey,” Hutch said quietly, smiling. “Have a good sleep?”

“Yeah. How long was I out?”

“I don’t know,” Hutch said, shrugging and smiling brightly. Another joyful, semi-sappy Hutchinson I’m-so-in-love-I-can’t-see-straight smile. Starsky figured he could never tell Hutch how much those smiles meant to him, so he settled for kissing the little hollow at the base of Hutch’s throat.

“I’m crazy about you, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know. Feeling’s mutual. You want to put some pants on and have a little wine?”

“What, there’s a dress code?” Starsky asked, sliding a hand around to squeeze one large, firm buttock. “I’m not gonna pour the wine in my pants, so what do I need ’em for?”

“You want to sit here on our bare asses and drink wine?”

“Why not?” Starsky asked simply, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He took in a deep breath of the fresh ocean air. “Wish we never had to go home.”

“Me, too, buddy. This is like paradise.” Hutch sat up next to him now, reaching for their picnic basket. He handed Starsky a glass, took one for himself and then pulled out the wine. “It was cold when I took it out of the fridge, but it’s probably a little tepid by now.”

“Isn’t that the stuff you said we couldn’t afford?”

“So? We’ll pinch our pennies for a few weeks.” Hutch worked the corkscrew with the panache of an expert, popping the cork smoothly before filling Starsky’s glass.

“You got any food in there?” Starsky lifted the lid on the picnic basket with his finger.

“Our host had quite an assortment of gourmet cheeses. I made a list of what we took so we can tell Huggy to get us a bill.”

“Something tells me our ‘host’ can afford it. Part’a me still wants to know what this guy does for a living.”

“Really?” Hutch smiled, raising an eyebrow as he unloaded a couple of containers that held neatly cubed pieces of the cheeses.

“Maybe not.”

“We should toast or something,” Hutch said, holding up his glass, still smiling. Starsky was trying to remember the last time he’d seen Hutch smile so much.

“How about just drinking to loving each other as much as we can, as long as we can…every way we can think of,” Starsky added, flexing his eyebrows wickedly. Hutch laughed with him, and they clinked glasses before taking their first drink of wine.

“Try this,” Hutch said, holding up a cube of cheese. Starsky grinned and took it in his mouth, sucking and licking at the fingers that held it before moving away again. Starsky mirrored the gesture, amazed at how hot it could be just to have Hutch sucking his finger. With Hutch, even his fingers felt like erogenous zones. Every part of him felt treasured.

“Wish we’d’a brought the guitar down with us,” Starsky said, thinking how much he’d love to hear Hutch’s soft voice singing him something–anything. Even the latest insurance commercial jingle.

“I’ll do what I can without the guitar, if you want,” Hutch offered, almost shyly.

“All I really wanna hear is your voice, babe.” Starsky moved closer and Hutch pulled him close, one arm around him while he still held his wine with the other hand. Though he rested his head against Hutch’s shoulder, Starsky could still sip his own drink.

Tonight, tonight let’s not go anywhere,
Let’s turn the latch on the door,
And if the phone should ring,
Then let’s just let it,
The way we have before.

And let’s have a quiet night in,
Together by the fireside.
We can talk without anyone else
Around to hear…

Hutch tightened his hold, and his hand slipped into Starsky’s hair. He turned his head and kissed Starsky’s forehead, then rested his head against Starsky’s.

Every night it seems the music plays,
Voices talk too loud,
I seem to lose you in the crowd
‘Til it’s time to go.

Starsky closed his eyes and listened to that sweet, light voice caressing him almost as lovingly as the physical caresses they’d shared earlier. Sometimes he marveled that someone as beautiful and talented as Hutch could possibly have found happiness in his world, working a gritty, dangerous job, and loving another man who was a far cry from perfect when he could have his choice of curvaceous beauties.

So tonight, tonight, let’s not see anyone,
If the party’s on, we’re not free,
I hardly see you now more than a minute,
So just this once for me,

Let’s have a quiet night in,
Together by the fireside.
We can dance in the candlelight
Just as well alone.

Taking the words as a promise of things to come for the evening, Starsky smiled and thought about slow dancing in the candlelight, kissing by the fireside, falling asleep in each other’s arms. The thought of how close they’d come to not having this chilled him, but not enough to dispel the warm glow of the love he felt inside.

It’s time for a heart to heart,
Before I’m left behind you…

Starsky heard almost a raw pain in the voice on those words, and he kissed Hutch’s neck. I’m so sorry I hurt you, darlin’. I’ll never leave you. Probably couldn’t have left you this time, even if I’d followed through on trying.

Don’t they say every night at a party
Soon wears thin?
Let’s have a quiet night in,
We can dance in the candlelight
Just as well alone.

Let’s have a quiet night home
Together, just this time.

Hutch ended his song by kissing his biggest fan gently on the lips.

“That was beautiful,” Starsky said quietly. “You should’a been famous, not–”

“If I’d been a famous singer, I wouldn’t have you. Don’t wish that on me.” Hutch was silent a moment, then the hand in his hair flexed gently. “Besides, you’re my best audience. You don’t even notice when I hit a flat note.”

“You don’t hit flat notes,” Starsky protested, sitting up.

“Like I was saying,” Hutch responded, laughing softly. He reached over and cupped Starsky’s cheek in one large hand.

“Loving you doesn’t make me tone deaf.” Starsky covered the hand with his own. “I still say you’ve got a voice like…like…like a cool breeze on a summer day.” Starsky felt even that was inadequate, but it was the closest he could come to capturing the beauty of the sound in words.

“M-maybe we ought to go up to the house and get comfortable, huh?” Hutch asked, his voice a bit strained. The little stutter and slight flush that spread over his fair complexion told Starsky that his compliment had touched and moved his partner deeply.

“Okay. It’s gettin’ chilly out here.”

“It was your idea to sit here with no pants on,” Hutch reminded, laughing as he got up and pulled on his jeans. Starsky followed suit, laughing a little, too.

“It wasn’t such a bad idea, was it? Not like we can sit around on the beach at home with no pants on.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Hutch said, shaking his head. “All set to start the trek? Now remember, we’re taking it slow with lots of breaks to rest,” Hutch added as they approached the long flight of wooden steps. Only the picnic basket in one hand and the supporting hand under the elbow he seemed to think Starsky needed for the ascent kept him from adding emphasis with a wag of his finger.

“Yes, Doctor,” Starsky teased as they started up the first few steps. Breaking Hutch’s contact with his elbow and putting his arm firmly around his lover’s waist, Starsky smiled when Hutch’s arm came up around his shoulders. “Let’s get up to the house so we can get started on our quiet night in.”

 

 

Stress Relief
by Lucy

(Missing Scene from Ep502, “A Time to Hurt, a Time to Heal”)

Art by Shar

SHSVS Missing Scene Showcase

 

 

Dobey looked out into the main detective area of the squadroom, seeing Starsky and Hutch huddled at one desk with Lizzie and Arturo at the other. The four had done a great job and brought in a solid bust, but as his eyes raked over them he was struck with how exhausted Starsky and Hutch looked. Starsky, he could understand, he wasn’t back to work one hundred percent yet, but Hutchinson looked even worse.

“Good job, all of you. When your reports are on my desk, take off and add Monday to make it a long weekend.” Dobey continued over the chorus of thank-yous to say, “Starsky, I want to see you in my office when you’re finished.” With that parting shot and the silence it wrought, the big man went back into his office and quietly shut the door.

Starsky looked up to meet Hutch’s eyes briefly, then with a shrug and almost his customary smoothness, he rose from his chair and went to knock on Dobey’s office door.

“Come in,” Dobey called from inside.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Starsky asked as he hesitantly entered the room.

“Sit down,” Dobey said as he closed the file he was reading and folded his beefy hands over it. “That was a great sting you all carried out today. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Starsky answered truthfully.

“I see on the black-and-white’s report that things got a little physical there for a while. Are you really okay?”

“Yes, really. I didn’t take any punches, if that’s what you need to know. I’m okay.”

“What about your partner?” Dobey asked, pinning Starsky with a look that said plainly not to bother with any bullshit.

“He’s…he’s gonna be okay. He’s been pushing himself, you know that. Taking care of me, then coming back to work and still taking care of me. It’ll be better now that I’m back at work, too. He just needs a little time to really relax, a few days of downtime….”

“See that he gets it,” Dobey interrupted. “I’ve done everything short of making it an order for him to talk to someone. I’m trying my damndest to keep a thing like that out of his file. He needs to be as whole and fit for duty as you do. You, I’m happy to say, I’m no longer worried about. But, Starsky, I can’t say the same for that partner of yours. He’s looking worse every time I see him. You have a week. Take it. I’m giving that time to both of you. Maybe he’ll talk to you, or you can convince him to talk to someone else. But see if you can’t get him to accept the help he needs. If not, you’ll be coming back to full duty paired with someone else until he gets his head together.” Dobey opened his file and began reading again, indicating the meeting was over and the subject matter not up for further debate.

“Captain, you can’t do that….” Starsky stood to lean over his boss, both hands flat on the desk.

“I can, and I will, if I have to.” Dobey looked up quickly then back to the papers in front of him. “Get your report finished and get out of here. I’ll see you both in a week.”

Starsky stood for just a second, his mind spinning with the need to say something else, his heart pounding. You can’t split us up, it would kill both of us, he thought, and wanted to scream, but said instead, “Yes, Captain.” He turned and left the room.

“What’d Dobey want?” Lizzie asked when Starsky was again standing at the desks.

“Just wanted to make sure I’d followed orders and hadn’t overdone anything,” Starsky said.

“He been taking classes at the Hutchinson school for mother hens?” Arturo joked, then sobered instantly when he saw neither Starsky nor Hutch had shared in the joke. Flores looked between the two men and reached for the papers Hutch held in his hand. “I’ll finish these. You guys get out of here. See ya later.”

“Right, Tuesday,” Hutch answered. “Have a great weekend, everybody.” Hutch pulled his jacket off the back of the chair and moved toward the door, holding it open as Starsky passed in front of him.

“I’m beat, you hungry?” Hutch asked.

“Yeah. You head home and I’ll swing by the deli and pick up some stuff and meet you there. Okay?”

“You got it,” Hutch agreed easily, then hesitated. “Want me to come with you?”

“No, just give me a ten so I won’t have to go by the bank.”

Hutch opened his wallet and passed off several bills. “Here, use whatever you need. See you at my place.”

Starsky watched for a moment as Hutch trudged out to the street where he’d parked his car. For a flash, he felt a brief second of fear-driven irritation. If I can park in the garage so the car isn’t hot as hell, why can’t you? He took a deep breath and let it out, feeling a new sense of determination. He stopped at the phonebooth to make a call before hitting the store.

“Hey, man. How’s it going? Look, I need a favor. You remember that beach house you set up for me a while back? Yeah, that’s the one. Can you make a call and see if it’s available now? Yeah, like right now. I need to use it again. No I’m fine…I just need to get a certain partner of mine out and away from everything for a few days. He needs to wind down, you know? That’s a good place to do it. Yeah…thanks, Hug. We need it real bad. Thanks. I’ll give you a call in thirty minutes or so, when I get to the store. Will that give you time enough to reach your friend?” Starsky smiled, “Yeah, I know you said he was still out of town, but check for sure, okay? Thanks.” Starsky slowly hung up the phone, thinking about the beach house and their night in front of the fireplace. “This should do the trick if anything will,” Starsky muttered to himself as he walked off with a soft and tuneless whistle.

 

 

Starsky pushed the grocery cart quickly up and down the aisles, getting what he felt would be needed for the night’s dinner and a few days at the beach house. He stopped at the pay phone at the end of the fresh vegetable counters and dialed a number. “Hey, you got good news for me?” he asked. “Great, thanks, Hug. I’ll be there in less than twenty for the key. You bet. Thanks again.”

Taking the side trip to The Pits then back to his own place to grab a few clothes, caused Starsky to pull up in front of Venice Place almost two hours later than he’d expected. Please just have gotten home, taken a shower and then a nap, don’t be pacing the floor, Hutch, Starsky silently hoped as he climbed the stairs, leaving everything in the car.

Starsky quietly entered the apartment and saw Hutch stretched out on the couch, a towel from the shower across his lap and one arm thrown over his eyes. Perfect!

Starsky stepped silently to the couch and dropped to his knees, then leaned over to place butterfly-light kisses on Hutch’s belly and chest, working his way up to his neck, nuzzling under the elbow to get to Hutch’s mouth, just as it was curving into a sleepy smile.

“Hey, ’bout time you got here. I’m starved. You have to go kill the cow to get the meat?”

“I got more than that, babe. Go get dressed–something easy–and toss in a bathing suit and a coupl’a pairs of shorts and some t-shirts. I’m taking you away from all of this.”

“What?” Hutch opened his eyes wide. “Starsky, I’m beat. I don’t want to go out tonight….”

“Not just tonight, gorgeous, the whole weekend and into next week. I’ve got the key to the beach house, and we’re going to go and unwind and relax.” Starsky smiled with a wag of his eyebrows and a nod of his head that Hutch should get up and start moving.

“What do you mean into next week? We have to be at work Tuesday,” Hutch said as he sat up.

“No…Lizzie and Flores have to be at work Tuesday. We have all next week off. Dobey’s little welcome back present,” Starsky smiled broader and jingled the keys to spur Hutch on.

“He did what?” Hutch stopped his trek toward the sleeping alcove to turn and stare. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he likes my face,” Starsky answered, not meeting Hutch’s eyes. “Come on, will you? I’ve got food in the car that’s been there for a coupl’a hours. Let’s go.”

Hutch took slightly longer than usual to take in Starsky’s words before turning to get dressed and throw a few things in a gym bag.

 

 

The trip to the beach house went quickly, the delay of earlier long enough to miss the normal commute crunch. Starsky parked the car with a great sigh and turned to his lover.

“Just you and me, in a great house and nothing to do but enjoy it…and each other.” Starsky ran his hand through the soft silky strands of Hutch’s hair, drinking in the feel of it. The look he saw shining back at him was a good indication of how much better Hutch looked since his nap.

Two trips each from the car to the house, and everything was inside. Some frenzied unpacking of the perishable groceries into the fridge was all they took time for. Starsky pushed the refrigerator door shut after the last item had been placed in there and took Hutch’s hand, leading the way out the sliding glass doors to the deck. The stars were winking out gradually as the darkness began to win over the glow of the city lights. The three-quarter moon floated lazily over the view of the ocean below them, casting silvery shadows on the whitecaps of the small waves in the distance and a phosphorescent light show on the breakers as they rushed to shore. Turning Hutch so the moonlight bathed his face, Starsky captured it between his hands and gently kissed each eyelid, then nose and finally falling to rest his lips against Hutch’s full ones, already parted and waiting for him.

“I love the way you look at night, in the moonlight. What it does to your hair and your skin, it’s magic. That’s what you are to me…a magic man….” Starsky spoke the last words against Hutch’s mouth, then slipped his tongue inside to take the earlier soft kisses to a new height. His passion was accepted and returned, each man crushing the other to him as if driven by the need to mold into one body, one soul.

Hutch leaned back, the first to break the contact. He raised his hand to brush back Starsky’s hair where the sea breeze pushed it forward, and clutching his fingers in a handful, let out a shuddering breath. “If I’m magic, you’re the wizard, all dark and beautiful mystery. Like a gypsy…God, how I love you.”

Hutch brought his mouth to Starsky’s again, and they began kissing each other breathless. Starsky’s hands reached to pull up the knit shirt Hutch was wearing and toss it to the deck chair close at hand. He began kissing down the long neck of his lover, tonguing over the mole on the right side, then following that path past collarbone to chest. With each kiss to that smooth chest, Starsky pushed Hutch back a little farther until the back of his lover’s long legs hit the cushion of the double lounge and he sat down abruptly, the arms around Starsky’s waist causing him to follow. Hutch’s hands tugged his t-shirt out of his jeans, and Starsky let his head fall back at the feelings created by Hutch’s hot hands as they raked through the hair on his chest. Hutch’s long fingers made quick work of the snap fastening of his jeans and eased the zipper down to free Starsky’s hard cock. Hutch’s low, throaty chuckle telling Starsky of his lover’s appreciation that Starsky hadn’t bothered with briefs. Starsky reached to pull at the athletic shorts Hutch wore, pulling them and the elastic of his jockey shorts down in one, swift movement, freeing his cock as well.

Starsky looked down between their bodies at the two cocks jutting upward in the moonlight. the sight of Hutch, as he wrapped his long fingered hands around both of them and began to slowly pump, was almost his undoing. Starsky rested both of his hands against Hutch’s shoulders, his knees clutched tightly around the other man’s outer thighs. Both men’s breaths were coming faster, intermingled with groans and moans of pleasure as Hutch’s hands stroked firmer and faster. Starsky dug his fingers into the tense muscles of Hutch’s biceps, as he urged him on with licks and nips to Hutch’s throat. “Oh, God, babe, yes–just like that. You feel so good, so hot.” Starsky was bucking his own hips in tandem with Hutch’s strokes; a fast glance down showed moonlight glistening off the wetness of each head.

“So close, almost…almost….” Hutch breathed then stiffened and shot. Starsky felt the hot cum spurt against his belly and wash over Hutch’s hand to slick his own shaft, and he added his essence to the mix with a shout. He dove at Hutch’s mouth, taking it in a fierce kiss, still moaning his completion. Finally, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Hutch’s shoulder as they dragged in great lungfuls of air.

Starsky slid off to the side, lying back on the lounge, drawing Hutch back with him. “I love you, more than my own life,” Starsky said, softly kissing Hutch’s damp hair.

“I love you, too.”

“We made it….” Starsky breathed against Hutch’s hair and felt his boneless sprawl begin to stiffen.

“Yeah, it was great….” Hutch offered uncertainly.

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Starsky whispered.

Hutch tightened his grip around Starsky’s waist but stayed silent.

“Do you think we’re any closer because of the sex?” Starsky asked softly.

“I…I don’t know….”

“I’ve always loved ya, blondie. I’d have always stepped in front of a bullet to keep you safe. I never needed this to give me that kind of love.”

“Me neither.” Hutch kissed at the patch of hairy skin nearest his lips. “It doesn’t feel like it’s the love that’s different, just the expression of it. It’s like now I really don’t need anybody else for anything. You’re all there is.” Hutch sighed loudly before continuing. “Maybe it just seems like there’s that much more to lose now…more than there was before.”

“Yeah, I guess you could look at it like that.”

“How do you see it, Gordo?” Hutch teased, his body becoming loose and relaxed against Starsky’s

“That everything we have is gravy, way far over and above. My grandmother used to say, dance like there’s no one watching. You ever hear that?”

“What?” Hutch laughed. “No, what did she mean?”

“You know how some people are always saying everything will fall in line–after I get married, or after I get that new car, or after a kid comes along, or after the kids are out of the house. No matter where they are in life, there’s always something stopping them from finding joy in where they are.”

“What are you trying to tell me?” Hutch asked seriously.

“That we are the lucky ones; we already know that none of the rest of anything matters. We’ve both seen a glimpse of what it would be like without the other. So as long as we’re together, we’ve got all we need.”

“So we can dance like there’s no one watching, huh?” Hutch asked.

“Yeah.” Starsky leaned down stretching his neck to reach Hutch’s lips and gently press his own to them. He leaned back, tightening his arms around his lover as they lay there in the cooling moonlit air. “And that’s a good thing.”

“What?” Hutch asked around a yawn.

“The ‘no one watching’ part,” Starsky answered, his voice singing with a suppressed smile. “Especially the way you dance.”

The quiet night was split by the sound of laughter–healing, loving laughter.

 

 

Comfort Food
by Lucy

(A Missing Scene from Ep507-Ep508, “Echoes of the Past”)

Art by Shar

SHSVS Missing Scene Showcase

 

 

Hutch set the platter on the table and lit the candles, the steam from the pot roast and vegetables rising to warm his face. The Paul Muni Special; how many times had he made this over the years? It had come to be the standard comfort food…Hutch’s way of putting a band aid on the owie. He’d done it the first time almost eight years ago, when a case had been hard and Starsky had struggled with the death of a relationship and a friend. Hutch had done it a lot since then. He thought back to another time–years ago, after that child abuse case had been so heartbreaking for both of them. The one they’d so recently finished bringing all that back, too. Then, just a few months before, when Starsky had gotten another emotional blow: the school for the developmentally disabled where Terry taught was being closed, and the students there relocated to a newer and bigger building. The reason for tonight’s dinner was just as tender and equally needing of Hutch’s TLC. They’d just returned from vacation where Starsky had learned way more than he’d ever wanted about his father’s life and death. He had the answers he so desperately needed, but at one hell of a price. So Hutch did what he did best at times like these. He waited alone at his place for Starsky to come over after taking his suitcases home to unpack and do laundry, knowing that was easily translated to, “I need a little time alone, babe.”

The phone call to say Starsky was on his way had come not long before, giving Hutch just enough time to dish everything up and light the candles.

The door opened and he turned, blowing out the match. Starsky stood for a moment, his eyes fixed on the table, then rising to meet Hutch’s own. “Hey, that smell….” Starsky inhaled, closing his eyes in pleasure as he breathed in and out then walked slowly toward the table. He reached out his arms and engulfed Hutch in a hug, resting his face against Hutch’s shoulder. “You always know just what I need…don’t you?” Starsky kissed the soft, freshly shaved cheek near his lips and leaned back slightly. “And what do you need?” he asked, eyes full and loving.

“Just you, like always,” Hutch answered, leaning into the kiss. “Sit down, everything’s ready.”

They ate slowly and in more silence than anything, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Not needing to share at the moment, the proximity enough, the talking would come later.

“That was great, thanks.” Starsky broke the quiet first. “If you’d have asked me on the way over here, I’d have said I wasn’t hungry. I guess two helpings of everything made a liar outta me, huh?”

Hutch smiled softly and leaned over for a gravy-flavored kiss. “You never can resist the Paul Muni Special.”

“And you always know just when I need it. Thanks for going back east with me. I hate like hell that you got hurt while we were nosing around, but honest to God, Hutch, I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there.”

“You’ve been there for me, too, babe. We don’t need to keep score,” Hutch answered softly as he began to clear the table.

“Do you ever stop and think about it?” Starsky asked.

“Think about what?” Hutch responded, making another trip from the table to the sink.

“How many people we have to say good-bye to in one lifetime?” Starsky said, drawing circles on the table in the ring of condensation left by the glass Hutch had taken.

“Babe….” Hutch started, wanting to deflect the subject matter.

“I think about it sometimes. You know, remember times I had to…like with my dad…with Helen, or Terry.” He looked up and met Hutch’s eyes calmly.

“Sometimes it’s hard…but you know you’ll get through it. You’re not happy, like when Helen died, but you keep going. Then there are the other times when it hurts so bad it doesn’t seem like you’ll survive it either, you know?”

“Like Terry or your dad?” Hutch asked, hoping he was on the same wavelength.

“Yeah. It hurts so bad, ya can’t help but get mad about it. That just makes it worse. Then you feel guilty about being mad at someone you loved who isn’t there anymore.”

“Then I guess we better be really careful so neither of us gets killed and pisses off the other.” Hutch tried to make a joke out of an increasingly uncomfortable topic of conversation.

Starsky looked up again with a snap, rising out of the slouch he’d assumed at the table. “I wasn’t talking about you and me….”

“Good,” Hutch answered with a gentle ruffle of Starsky’s curls.

“I love you so much, I know how that would go down.” Starsky slowly stood and pulled Hutch into his arms. “The second after your heart beats its last, mine will stop, too,” Starsky whispered against Hutch’s neck.

Hutch closed his arms around Starsky to hug back tightly. It might feel like that’s the way it would be, but trust me…it doesn’t happen that way. Your heart will keep right on beating, just like mine did. I couldn’t understand why at the time either, but it did.

“You don’t believe me do you?” Starsky challenged.

“Babe….”

“Hey, who’s the one who already tried it, huh? Who’s the expert here?”

“Starsky, don’t kid around….”

“I’m not kidding. I died, that’s a fact. We’ve both had to come to grips with that. I didn’t stay dead, that’s the kicker. Why do you think that was? Huh?”

“Starsky…” Hutch began to pull away. “Please…”

“Because when I got to that light at the end of the tunnel or whatever it was, you weren’t there with me. It didn’t matter who was; do you hear what I’m saying? It didn’t matter that there seemed to be nice things over there waiting…whoever it was, standing there…I knew it wasn’t you. So I couldn’t go, it was that simple.” Starsky let Hutch pull further away, then reached to cup both hands around his face and hold it.

“Me and Thee, Hutch. It’s been that way for so long now, I can hardly remember a time when it wasn’t. And that’s the way it’s going to stay. I don’t have any doubts and I don’t want you to, either.”

“So when we go, we’ll go out together, like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, huh?”

“Damn right. Me and Thee–it’s stronger than anything. It always has been.” Starsky sealed his opinion with a soft and gentle kiss.

Oh, babe, you almost make me believe…Hutch thought as he melted against that mouth.

 

 

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