Starsky & Hutch
June 29th, 2018 SHFAFF Prompt - (perspective of one of the inanimate objects on the show i.e. the Piggy Bank, or one of the other critters found sitting on the filing cabinet…)
Two of a kind…
Two sleeping bodies lay in two separate hospital beds. One was blond the other a brunet. Only the sound of their breaths invaded the stark white and pale blue hospital room. The occasional overhead intercom interjected softly.
Despite the large bandage on his head, David Starsky appeared intact. His partner, Ken Hutchinson sported a sling on his left arm and a bruised chin. The men were sedated and resting peacefully. Well, they were, but Gordy was restless.
"Hoochie? Hey are ya awake?" The voice came from Starsky's bed. "H-e-l-l-o?" The annoyance present in his voice. He lay motionless and awaited a response from his counterpart. The distinct sound of a groan came from Hutch's bed followed by a cough, and yawn. The blond who inhabited the bed lay motionless.
"I'm awake now, Gordy. What do you want?" The tired and slightly grouchy voice responded.
"How long are these two going to sleep? I'm hot, itchy and bored out of my mind." A tone of irritation glazed his words.
Starsky flinched and turned over to his side.
"Oh, here we go again. If it weren't for you and the Blond, we wouldn't be here, Hoochie. I'm getting closa-phobic." The fear and anguish spilled through his words.
A loud snort and cough came from Hutch as he turned his head and licked his lips.
"I believe you mean claustrophobic, Gordy." He cleared his throat. "As far as who was at fault, Starsky took a right instead of the intended left and crashed into Captain Dobey's car." He groaned loudly.
The blond startled slightly and opened his eyes. He gently touched his injured arm. "Did you say something, Starsk?" His voice was a sleepy slur as his eyes closed and he fell back to asleep.
"Would ya keep it down?" Agitation bit the air. "Despite what we did, Hoochie, it all began when you two wanted to chase that brunette with the well proportioned assets." The voice elevated with anger.
The brunet kicked his feet and lifted his head slightly and propped the pillow to elevate it. "Blintz would ya keep it down, I'm trying to sleep." He growled and resumed his state of sleep. His nose twitched.
A chuckle came from Hutch's bed. "She was a beauty, Gordy. The blond and I, we gave a well deserved standing ovation." He said admirably. "How were we supposed to know she moonlighted as bank robber?" He snapped.
"I can barely breathe. " A long groan followed along with a gasp. "Maybe ya should have been thinkin' with more than one head?" The anger spilled into his words. "Would ya turn, David Starsky?"
The sleepy brunet rolled onto his back, pursed his lips, and continued to sleep.
"I can breathe!" He gasped with a sigh of relief. "We get no respect, Hoochie. They think all we, you, and me ever do is hang around and need an occasional scratch. A little support isn't too much to ask for, is it? We got feelin's too. What kind a name is brass or dingle berries, hell, I even heard them call us marbles and googles." His voice quivered. "I'm sorry. By the way, I saw her use her knee on ya, are you okay?" The worry stained his question.
Silence hung in the wake of a response. "It was a close call, Buddy. She missed." He took a deep breath. The blond shuffled his feet in the bed. "I suppose I should be asking you the same. I'm sorry, Gordy. I may be wrong, but I think we both need to release, you know…get it off our chest. Perhaps hang out in the open breeze." A tone of sentiment held the air. "Gordy, I'll talk to Hutch about better support. Perhaps he can inform Starsky. Those black Captain Marvel briefs have got to go."
Once again silence hung in the air. "Hoochie?" He called out the name with affection and softness. "Like always…we and us. We are quite a foursome."
Hutch groaned and turned his head. "Like always, Me…" The words slipped past dry sleep-lacquered lips.
Starsky opened his eyes and blinked several times. He turned his head and smiled. "And thee, partner."
The End