The room was very quiet, only the sounds of quiet exhalations echoing around the white walls. Those walls were hung with eastern banners, bamboo with black lettering on them spelling out peace, tranquility, self knowledge and love. The blond man on the front row sat quietly in the lotus position, head up, hands resting on the points of his knees with finger and thumb together and his eyes closed. He was intent on his breathing, feeling the air fill his lungs and then slowly releasing it with a deep breath out through his mouth. Om Mani Padme Hum. The Tibetan Buddhist prayer mantra invoked the powerful benevolent attention and blessings of Chenrezig, the embodiment of compassion and Ken Hutchinson concentrated on the words.

The class had been a long one, focusing on tantric exercises that had left him feeling tired but so relaxed he could hardly contemplate getting up. The blond focused on the voice of the instructor as the man talked the class through the last of the warm downs for the evening. Although the yoga and Tai Chi class had been meant to be quiet and reflective, Hutch's white yoga outfit of loose linen top and drawstring pants was damp with sweat showing how intent the blond had been on his workout.

Along with the other 8 people in the class Hutch finally opened his eyes and looked around at the others. He chuckled as he thought of what his partner would say if Starsky were watching him now. The brunet was never one for spirituality and he could just hear that soft spoken New York voice mocking him gently.

"Hutch you don't need to sit in a class with people closing their eyes and hummin' and chantin' to feel relaxed. Why doncha just come to Huggy's, get a couple beers. We could get pizza, Nadia, Cassy...you'll feel more relaxed after Cassy than all this crap."

Relaxed Hutch cleared his mind again conscious he had a goofy grin on his face. He concentrated on watching the instructor go through his final exercise and at the end of it sat for a few moments of quiet reflection. It was always the same at the end of the class. The instructor would count slowly back from ten and at the end, each person would get up in their own time and head out to the changing rooms.

Feeling the final motes of tension draining from his shoulders Hutch gracefully stood up, bowed to the instructor who bowed back and walked over to the side of the room where his bag lay on the floor. He looked out of the window trying to catch sight of the striped tomato, waiting to see if Starsky was there. Coming up empty he decided he had time for a shower, walked back to the locker room and gathered his stuff. He stripped, wrapped the towel round his neck, entered a convenient stall and stood for a few moments under the hot water. Soaping himself, he looked down at his body. Not bad for a guy in his mid thirties. He'd had a rocky patch where he'd eaten and drunk more than he should. He'd given up running and had allowed his hair to grow long and his moustache to hide his mouth. Fighting with his best friend over a woman would do that to a guy, but they'd made up and then there had been the most horrific time of Hutch's life – the shooting of his partner. After that – after the months of healing for both of them, Hutch came out of the experience a stronger, more determined individual and once again he took control of his life, exercised, dieted and regained his "boy next door" good looks. Snickering at his vanity, Hutch shook his flaxen bangs to get rid of excess water, wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped back into the changing room. The rest of the group had gone back home without showering, but the blond was due to go on duty and needed to freshen up. He expected the changing rooms to be empty and was surprised therefore when he saw the instructor standing by the door as though waiting for him.

'You were pretty good in there tonight. You look like you really know how to handle yourself' the tall blond haired man said in a slight Swedish accent.

'You're not so bad yourself but I guess that's why you're the instructor and I'm the pupil. Um, Ken….Ken Hutchinson.' They shook hands and both laughed self consciously. Nigel eyed the blond up and down. Hutch was acutely aware that he was wearing nothing but a towel and the instructor – what was his name? Nick….no Nigel – roved his eyes over Hutch's water beaded chest and further down to the long, tanned legs. The gaze was not the casual glance usually associated with locker rooms and it made Hutch feel very awkward and more than a little uncomfortable.

'Are you um…by yourself Ken? I mean I didn't see you come here with anyone. I was just wondering if you wanted to um..well I don't usually ask but maybe you'd like to go for a dr...'

The words hung in the air as Nigel saw a tall, curly haired man come into the room and stop as he eyed Hutch in a towel talking to Nigel. Starsky heard the invitation, saw the hungry look in the instructor's eyes, grinned, walked up behind the blond quietly and planted a slap on Hutch's ass.

'Hey there sweetheart. How was class?' Hutch turned quickly looking at Starsky as if he had 2 heads.

The brunet seemed oblivious and continued. 'I was waiting outside. Thought I'd come in and see what was taking ya so long.' The brunet eyed Nigel appraisingly and put his hand out. 'I'm Dave. Dave Starsky, Hut…Ken's partner.'

Nigel extended his hand feeling Starskys firm handshake.

'Um..Nigel. Ken's instructor. I was just asking Ken if he wanted to go for a drink but I had no idea that you ..I mean the two of you....

Starsky grinned and draped his arm round Hutch's shoulder. The blond yelped and almost danced away from the brunet. Starsky didn't seem to notice and carried on regardless. 'Yeah well Kenny and I have been together for a couple years, aint that right honey? Starsky extended his hand to Hutch's waist caressing the still damp flesh.

The blond was more then mortified. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a death threat to all brunets. He was gonna kill Starsky, slowly and painfully but Starsky was continuing headlong, his usual playfulness now being given full rein. 'You um ready to get out of here Kenny babe?' Starsky's hand moved to the back of Hutch's neck to massage beneath the soaking wet bangs playfully.

Angrily Hutch batted the curly haired cop's hand away and in doing so "accidentally" ploughed his elbow into Starsky's midriff. The brunet gave a surprise humph and a strangled wheeze as he took a step backwards. Nigel watched the performance as if watching the two men at their foreplay. There was a startled look in his eye as though he were asking himself how he could have got it so wrong. Confused, he looked away.

'Well it was a pleasure to meet you Dave and um….Ken, hope to see you tomorrow. Don't forget that "Greeting the Dawn" move and um don't forget to practice.' He walked out of the lockers room leaving Hutch feeling faintly sorry for the guy. He rounded on his partner.

'Starsk, what the… I can't believe you did that! What the hell was that all about huh?' Hutch was more then pissed and he overbalanced putting his pants on, hit the wall, corrected himself and glared at Starsky for some type of answer.

The brunet was grinning from ear to ear, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and one ankle resting over the other. He had his head on one side in that quizzical look he often adopted and he raised his eyebrow at his buddy.

'Well if you haven't noticed partner, I think Mr. Yoga boy there has the hots for ya.' Hutch's glare turned to a look of downright disbelief.

'Are you kidding me? I mean, he wanted a, a dddrink. A drink Starsky, not a night of sex!' Despite his words though, Hutch looked over his shoulder as though checking Nigel was nowhere in sight. Happy that the coast was clear tying he finished tying his shoelace, hustled into his holster and finger combed his hair into some kind of shape. Still muttering under his breath he finished shouldered into his jacket and pushed past the unapologetic brunet.

'Come on mushbrain, let's get out of here.'

Starsky sighed walking with Hutch back to his car contritely. Maybe he had gone over the top, but the look on Nigel and Hutch's faces had been worth it. There was always something vaguely innocent about the blond – not dumb or stupid, but sometimes the world came as a shock to Hutch, especially when it came to relationships. They got into the car in silence and Starsky waited while Hutch threw the remains of his flask of power shake onto the back seat amongst all the other junk there. Amused, the curly haired man sat with his arms folded as Hutch fumbled with the ignition keys and tried to turn on the engine. It coughed, revved, coughed and died.

'You flooded it' the brunet advised sagely.

'I know that!'

'Try pressin' the gas a few times. Pump it up.'

'What are you, the driving instructor?' Hutch snapped.

'Why, does he have the hots for you too?'

'Starsk, so help me I'll….' The car roared into life, cutting off the death threat and the blond pulled out into the traffic in front of a large pickup. It blared its horn and Hutch gave it two fingers.

'Temper temper! Hutch let me ask you somethin...'

'What?'

'You've been coming here for what..3 weeks? Now I'd like to ask, what do you do for a livin'?'

'What's this all about? I'm not in the mood.'

'I gathered that, but just answer the question' Starsky asked mildly.

'Fine. I'm a cop.'

'No, no, not just any cop, you're a Detective.'

'I'm also pissed at you. What's your point?'

'I'm coming to it. You being a detective and all you um..well you cant seem to tell that he was putting the moves on you.'

'Starsky not everyone is looking for a hop in the sack..and no..its been 2 weeks and he's a nice guy.'

'Nice as in….'

'Fuck you Starsky! I mean he's a nice guy…period. I mean what am I gonna do now? Every time I walk in there he's gonna think you and I are um..'

'Partners?' Starsky was fighting hard to keep his face straight and losing the battle. 'Oh my God Blondie! You mean to tell me, Hutch, that you cant even say it? You can't can ya? I'm crushed you know that. Here I was, bumblin' along thinkin' all this time you wanted to get in my pants...' the car swerved as Hutch punched his earstwhile partner non too gently on the arm.

'Man, Starsk you've done some pranks before but this tops 'em all.'

'What can I say? I'm on a roll.' Starsky took the microphone signing him and Hutch in as Hutch drove on with a tautness to his jaw. 'How ya doing Millie?' Starsky asked.

'Not bad for the end of my shift. Zebra three logged as rolling. Have a good night fellas' she said as Starsky put the mic down. Looking at Hutch he saw the set of his jaw and the white knuckles holding the steering wheel. He was evidently pissed.

'Hutch why the hell are you so mad? I mean if you think of it I saved your ass.'

'Would ya stop mentioning my ass?'

'Why? Am I getting' to ya? Better me than Nige.'

'Starsky, I don't want to talk about it.' Hutch turned the corner fast, spinning the wheel though his hands and sending Starsky almost on his lap. The brunet couldn't help but use Hutch's leg to get him self back up. Hutch gave him a look from the side.

'What?' Starsky asked almost as if he was the one to feel sorry for.

'Don't give me "what" Starsk. What you did back there was wrong.'

'It was a joke buddy, nuthin more. Are you gonna be talking about this all night coz if I didn't know better I think you felt bad about your yoga boy.' Starsky was pushing it, he knew. It was like he was cutting his nose off to spite his face. They both hated working nights and tonight was no better then any other night this week. The job they were on was boring in the extreme. They had to watch the activity of the ware house on 4th Street and that meant hours together in the car in the dark and the quiet with nothing else to do but talk or play the inevitable game of I Spy. Adding a pissed blond to the scenario was masochistic in the extreme.

Hutch sighed deeply. A night with a bored Starsky meant the brunet would be talking all night and that was something he was already dreading . He was already more than angry about what had happened and couldn't face a full eight hours of Starsky jokes, whining and the inevitable discussion about what made a guy want to get into another guy's pants. The blond gritted his teeth. Calm down Hutchy. Just cool it. Do what the yoga man said and breathe. He took an experimental breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, imagining his anger being blown out with the air. It did no good apart from making him feel slightly light headed and he gave up with a mental shrug.

Hutch pulled up behind the building turning the motor off.

'You want the first hour Starsk..or no?

'Whatever you want Blondie doesn't matter' Starsky said affably.

'Fine.' Hutch worked his way to the back of the car, scooped all the detritus onto the floor and wriggled trying to get more comfortable. He led down and cushioned his head on last months copy of The Art of Yoga. Starsky took the front seat, placed his feet up on the dash board with his ankles crossed, folded his arms and fixed his eyes on the building.

'Hey' Hutch, you got that playboy magazine from last month back there? There was a chick in there with the biggest.....' Hutch heaved himself up and started to look through all the junk he'd accumulated. Angrily he moved the stuff around cursing under his breath.

'Here' he gave Starsky the magazine. The brunet took it and started looking at the pictures. 'Man Hutch, this is her. Did you see this chick? Look at those…..assets. What a body!'

'Starsk you know it wouldn't hurt to read a article in there instead of just looking at the pictures once in a while You never know, you just might pick something, some little tip to make Nadia's night?'

The brunet feigned hurt. 'Hey I read the articles, but sometimes ya know I don't wanna think, I just feel like lookin'.'

'That's your problem Starsk you never think.'

Starsky put his magazine down. 'Oh come on Hutch, spill it. You're really mad aren't ya? I keep tellin' ya it was a joke.'

Hutch gritted his teeth. 'I'm not mad I just want some quiet tonight. Okay? Can we just sit here and just do our job with out any complaining? Can you just do that tonight, huh?'

Starsky shuffled the magazine page ...'Fine' you want quiet ..you got it.'

Relieved the blond settled down again. He just wanted to lie back and rest and much as he hated to admit it he really was mad but at the same time he actually felt a bit guilty for treating Starsky like that. He knew how Starsky could be, well, Starsky. The brunet had always been like a little kid at heart but sometimes he just went too far and now Hutch had to figure out how he was gonna walk into Nigel's class next week and act as if he were not gay. It was like that old adage. If someone in your gang is accused of steeling sweets, it's so hard to try to look innocent even if it wasn't you. Hutch also knew by the end of the night Starsky would be paying for breakfast , buying drinks….you name it. Hutch knew Starsky had a guilt side to him to and my god was he gonna play to it. This time he was gonna let Starsky ride it out, let him sweat. He caused this situation so he'd pay – big time. With that happy thought swimming around his head, Hutch closed his eyes finally and tried to sleep.

Be quiet Starsk, don't be a jerk Starsk. Damnit! Starsky decided to be silent – in his own way. He sat with his magazine turning the pages louder then he needed and whistling under his breath at each new photograph. He hated when Hutch was mad at him. So maybe he did go over board with Nigel but it was a joke. He also hated sitting in the car doing nothing and more then that he hated silence. Guilt heaped up on him though. - he would give Hutch what he wanted and then after their shift take his buddy out for a big breakfast. That would get the blond, he knew Hutch and his damned healthy habits and he knew Hutch would have to break down soon. Hutch and sulking didn't go together.

Hours passed but to Starsky it seemed like more like days. The silence was unbearable. Hutch was snoring softly and guilt ridden as he was Starsky didn't have the heart to wake him and take the other half of the night in the back seat. He decided to let Hutch sleep through the whole shift. Maybe that's what Hutch needed. Maybe he'd had a bad night with Cassy. Maybe….