Home Is Where the Hutch Is
by Allie
1.
Hutch climbed into the Torino and pulled the door shut behind him.
"You okay, partner?" He cast Starsky a searching glance.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Starsky drummed his fingers on the wheel. He pulled his car away from the curb. A driver behind him honked. "Yeah, hold your horses!" Starsky shouted, glowering.
Hutch held onto the car door to counteract Starsky's restless speed. "You sure you're okay?" he asked with the ghost of humor.
"Would you shut up?" growled Starsky.
Hutch raised his hands innocently. "Easy, partner. I was just worried, because, you know—"
"What?" snapped Starsky, turning to glare at him.
"Nicky called. He said you're not taking his calls."
"Well. So what? So I don't want to talk to him right now. Big deal. Quit worrying. He shouldn't be callin' you," he finished in a grouchy undertone. His fingers were drumming again on the wheel.
"I agree he shouldn't be calling me. I was really worried. But hey, if something affects you, it affects me too, so spill it, Starsk. What's wrong now?"
"'Now?' Excuse me? Are you saying there's always something wrong, huh, Hutch? Who was it that agreed to come with you to see your parents for Christmas—"
"Starsk Starsk Starsk." Hutch held up his hands, gesturing placatingly. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I'm grateful! I just meant—your brother. Even when he does something really awful you're always there for him. So what's wrong, now, that you won't even talk to him?"
"First of all, it's none of your business. But I know that's not going to stop you. Second of all, since you just have to be nosy, it's about you, okay?"
"M-me?" Hutch blinked at his partner. "What are you talking about, Starsk?"
Starsky took a deep breath and let it out. "He's sayin' I shouldn't go to your parents' with you for Christmas."
"Wh— How is that any business of his?" Hutch blinked harder.
"It isn't. But he thinks it is." Starsky spoke in a flat voice. "He wants me to come home for Christmas. To New York. To see Ma and him and his new girlfriend."
Hutch's brows rose. "He has a girlfriend? Sounds serious, if he wants her to meet the family."
Starsky shrugged, one shoulder higher than the other.
Hutch reached over, put a hand on that shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. "Starsk, it's okay. I'll tackle my parents myself. I don't have to—you don't— You go ahead and be with your family."
Starsky shook his head, mouth set stubbornly. "Nope. I can't Hutch. It's too late now."
Hutch removed his hand and stared at his friend in perplexity. "Why is it too late?"
"Because he made it about—about more than just Christmas. He tried to use—what'sit…emotional blackmail…bully me into going. We got into a huge fight. He said I shouldn't be doing stuff with you, I should drop everything and go when he calls because he's my brother, not you."
Hutch swallowed. "Starsk, it's okay. He's right. I mean, not that you have to do what he wants—but, you know, it's okay if you decide to. I don't need—" He couldn't finish that sentence. "I'll be fine."
Starsky's jaw tightened. "Well, I won't because I'm not going. I told him you've been more of a brother to me than he ever has and…" Starsky's voice cracked. He stopped talking abruptly and cleared his throat.
Hutch looked up and stared at him in amazement. "I have?"
Starsky nodded, his eyes hot and damp. "Yeah Hutch, 'course you are. You know that, don't you?" He turned to glance at his friend enquiringly.
Hutch's throat bobbed. He reached over and squeezed Starsky's arm, hard.
2.
"I hate flying," Starsky grumbled. He leaned against the window and peered moodily at the runway.
"It's not too late to change your mind and stay home," said Hutch.
"Yes it is. Besides, if I stay home and Nicky finds out, I'll never hear the end of it. I have to go with you after that fight."
Hutch gave him a 'look,' and Starsky grinned to show he didn't really mean it. He thumped his fist down on Hutch's leg. "So, you're going to show me all the old haunts?"
"Starsk, we're going to see my parents, say hello to my sister and her husband, endure a couple of meals and get the hell out of there. Yes, if we can get away for an hour or so, I'd love to show you my old haunts." His brow furrowed a bit. "The places where—"
Silence. Pregnant pause.
"The places where you and Jack used to hang out," finished Starsky gently.
"Yeah," admitted Hutch in a quiet voice. His big hands squeezed the armrests.
Starsky noticed and covered one of Hutch's hands with his own, giving it a squeeze and a little jostle. "It'll be okay, partner. I know you love your folks, and you'll be glad you've seen them. And we don't have to go anywhere that reminds you of Jack if you're not ready." He smiled at Hutch, all traces of his annoyance gone with kindness and concern for his friend.
"I—I—thanks, Starsk, but that's not it. At least, not most of it. I do love my family, but at Christmas—well, it's crazy, Starsk. One hour and you'll want to tear your hair out. Oh, they mean well enough—of course they mean well enough! But if I have to hear one more question about when I'm going to be a police captain, and when I'm going to marry and give them more grandkids…"
Starsky laughed, a rough, warm sound. "Oh, the torture, Hutch! Look, you'll do fine. I'll field the questions, huh? Okay, partner?" He tried to look into Hutch's face and finally Hutch looked up and met his gaze ruefully, a furrow between his brows. "It'll be fine, I promise. I'll tell 'em you're already a captain."
"You wha—" Hutch almost choked.
"I'll tell 'em you're already a captain," Starsky repeated. "And that you got married in Vegas. She's an airline pilot and a Native American, and you're both gonna have some beautiful brown babies to show them next year." He smiled a cheerful, innocent smile.
"You!" Hutch threw a packet of airline peanuts at him.
Starsky laughed and ducked and met Hutch's fierce grin with his own. "Don't give me that look. You can't get into a tickle war on an airplane."
"Oh yeah? Is that in the rules?" Hutch grinned broadly and leaned towards him.
Starsky leaned back till his dark curls brushed the window. "Uh huh. New FAA guidelines, Hutch.
A few minutes later he asked innocently, "So is naming her Pocahontas too much? Just so you know, I was your best man. We gotta get our stories straight."
"Oh yeah? So why isn't she coming with us, Starsk? Answer that one." Hutch pointed a triumphant finger at him.
"Hutch. Because she has flight duty, of course!"
Hutch laughed long and loud, and Starsky told him that might be against FAA regulations as well.
3.
"Let me see. Your tie straight?" Starsky turned Hutch around and peered at his partner, putting his hands on Hutch's arms in a gesture at once restraining and encouraging. "Aw, you look great, Hutch. Your hair's even neat. Just wipe that frown off your face."
"I can't help it, S-Starsk. I haven't seen them in ages, and—"
"Hey. Partner. They're your family. They love you. So stop worrying. You'll have a great time. And I'm right there. I'll keep you from saying anything dumb."
"I wish you would. I tried to tell them about my—my time in front of the microphone singing 'Lovin' Arms' last time I was home and that didn't work."
"Just blame me it didn't lead to a singin' contract. I interrupted you, remember?" He gave his partner a swat on the back and steered him towards the house down the lane.
They'd walked the last mile from the airport after the rental car broke down. Once Starsky had stopped cussing out the crappy car, he'd walked along cheerfully enough. Hutch had been brooding too hard to take much notice of the car's breakdown. Now they neared the Hutchinson house and Hutch seemed even more nervous.
"You can do it. You're my hero," said Starsky.
Hutch cast him a frown. "Starsk, don't tease me now. I'm—"
"I'm not teasing. Come on!" He tugged on Hutch's sleeve, smiling, and the two of them started up the path to the big, red brick house. "I think it's gonna snow…"
"It usually does here this time of year," said Hutch dourly.
"Yeah? Well not back home it doesn't, and I don't want to get caught in it."
"Why not? You'll look great with snow stuck to your hair." He swiped at Starsky's curls, breaking out into a smile for the first time since the plane had landed.
Starsky stuck a tongue out at him. "Better watch it, Hutch. If it snows enough, I'll make a snow angel outta you."
"Huh?" Hutch blinked, pausing mid-step.
"I'll make a snow angel outta you. All I gotta do it knock you down, rub your arms and legs in the snow and then run like hell before you catch me."
"Starsky, that doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, well it sounded better in my head."
They climbed the porch. "Everything's just the same," said Hutch in a quiet voice, looking at a porch swing. It was painted white. It swayed in the breeze, its chains quietly creaking. "Just the same." He squeezed Starsky's arm, tightly.
"It's real nice, Hutch," said Starsky comfortingly. "Ready? Here we are. C'mon, one, two, three…"
He took Hutch's hand, and together they pressed the doorbell.
Ding dong.
4.
"So. That went well, don't you think, Hutch?"
"Yeah. At least I didn't drink too much eggnog and throw up."
Starsky cast him a reproachful glare. "It was stronger than I realized, okay?"
They sat on the plane next to each other, waiting for takeoff. This time Hutch had the window seat. Their knees were touching. Hutch reached over and put a hand on Starsky's thigh, giving him a little squeeze.
"Everybody was sorry you felt sick. They think you're a lightweight, won't let you near the stuff next year."
"There's not going to be any next year."
Taking no notice, Hutch continued almost shyly. "With you there, I only stuttered a little bit. I didn't knock anything over. I didn't get into any stupid debates or try to defend myself for not rising through the ranks faster, either."
He cast Starsky a grateful look, eyes sparkling. "But I swear, if you'd mouthed 'Pocahontas' across the room at me one more time…"
Starsky laughed. "Made you relax, didn't it?"
Hutch gave him a pat. He sighed heavily. "I almost wish we'd stayed longer."
"You did?" Starsky sat up straight, staring at him. "Me too! I wanted to see more of the town than you got to show me! Hey, Hutch, we could—" He gestured up towards the plane's exit.
Hutch grasped his wrist and pulled him gently back. "No, Starsk. We're taking off any minute. It's too late for a refund, I'm sure…and I don't want to lose the money for tickets…all the way to New York."
"Hutch." Starsky gaped at him. "You—you didn't."
Hutch nodded slowly, smiling sheepishly. "I don't want you fighting with your family because of me. And there's still time this holiday to swing by and see them if we keep it short."
"Hutch, all that money."
Hutch shrugged embarrassedly. "Don't say I never get you anything good for Christmas now."
Starsky slumped down in his seat in very poor posture frowning, almost pouting. "Well, we'll see how it goes, first. If this is the worst Christmas ever..."
"I'll be there," reminded Hutch. "And if things get tense, I can tell them all about your promotion to captain and the lovely Pacific Islander skydiver you're engaged to."
"You…!" Starsky lunged at him, grinning fiercely, trying not to laugh.
They never did find out if roughhousing on a plane was against the FAA guidelines. Hutch surrendered too soon.