20-Minute Challenge #5
Fall Leaves
Nearly twenty years in sunny California and Starsky still missed Fall in New York. The nip in the air that revived him after the drowsy heat of summer. The leaves that caused Central Park to burst into flame.
He knew Hutch missed Duluth's changing seasons, too - nature boy that he was. He still used every opportunity to drag his city-bred partner out into the fresh air, no matter that spring morphed into summer then fall with homogenous regularity year after year. Even after all this time, it still seemed odd to be fishing from the pier in October. But here they were, courtesy of Hutch's enthusiasm and the fact that it was Starsky's turn to acquiesce.
Starsky could do without the gaudy lures they wrapped on the hooks ("Now I know why they call them hookers," he'd guffawed), the tedious hours spent waiting for a bite ("more boring than a stakeout") and worst of all, pulling a slimy, squirming fish off the hook once he'd finally reeled one in ("remind me not to order the fish-n-chips at Huggy's. I'll stick with a good old hamburger").
"How'd the two of us wind up here, anyway?" Starsky gave a little tug on his pole that had sat motionless for the better part of an hour, then stretched his palms out behind him to brace himself against the wooden dock. He knew he wouldn't be leaving that afternoon without a splinter or two.
"Fate, I guess." Hutch pushed his hat back on his head and scanned the surface of the water for any activity lurking underneath. It was instinctive that he understood Starsky wasn't referring to the pier.
Starsky looked up at Hutch, so obviously content and relaxed after another week from hell. Yeah, give Hutch fresh air and an open sky, and he was happy. A far cry from the energy Starsky seemed to crave - fostered in the east coast of his youth. But crazy as it sounded, Starsky felt more at home here than anywhere else. Because here was where Hutch was. And he wasn't about to leave.