Disclaimer: I don't own Starsky or Hutch or the Torino. Shame really, but
that's how life is. I do however own the right to complain if anyone tells
me I have no write to right this. That I will have to fight people over
Special Thanks to: My own partner Selena Thomas. If it weren't for her I would not be writing this. She is my inspiration and muse and one hell of a talented writer herself. If you deny that Sel I'll have to hit you with a stick I found in my cupboard.
Lost without
Cars flew by one after the other as Ken Hutchinson stared out the window of the Torino, his elbow resting on the half opened window. The day was so hot and the fresh air that blew through his hair was refreshing, but it did nothing to raise his trampled spirits.
"I must be losing my touch," Hutch said blandly to his partner. "With my luck with woman recently, something must be wrong" Dave Starsky looked briefly over at Hutch, while his fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel.
"I was meaning to ask how last night went, but now I'm afraid to" Hutch snorted.
"She stood me up. I waited at that restaurant for over an hour and she never showed"
"Maybe she was sick, she had a family emergency..."
"Or maybe she set me up" Hutch added with a gruff sigh.
"Or that" Starsky threw his friend another look, but accompanied with a lopsided smile. "One experience, that doesn't mean your losing your touch, just means you need to pick your women better." Hutch shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the cars that flew by.
"You remember Katy Stevens, that girl I dated a few years back," Starsky nodded. "I got a phone call from her the other day, she's coming back to town for a few days and wanted to know if I was free. After last night I figured I could meet her tonight, but just after lunch I got a call. She can't make it, her mother's ill," Hutch sighed. He ran a hand through his blonde locks and stared out at nothing.
Starsky hated to see his partner like this, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would cheer him up. He concentrated on driving for a while until he came up with the solution.
"Hey, how about this," He said with a smile "You come back to my place after work and I'll cook you a meal, something healthy and completely bland, how's that sound?"
Hutch frowned over at his friend, but it wasn't long before it turned into a smile.
"Under normal circumstances that offer would be...tempting, but I have a joint of meet that was meant to be cooked tonight and one way or another I am cooking it, so why don't you come over after work and I'll cook us a meal" Starsky smiled at the thought. Even though Hutch was big into health food there were times when he could surprise Starsky with 'normal food'
"It's a date, but if you don't call me the next day I'm taking your number out of my Rolodex" Hutch rolled his eyes, but his smile remained.
The joint of meat looked lonely on its tray, surrounded by nothing by gravy. Hutch sprinkled a few spices on top and added a few herbs, which gave the joint a dressed up look. Ready for a night in the oven.
Hutch checked the preheated oven and once satisfied with the temperature, slide the tray on to the right shelf and shut the door.
Hutch liked cooking, there was something about preparing a meal that satisfied him. When he cooked it gave him to think over his day, work out the high points and the low points. Think over any cases he and Starsky were working on. And whether he could find any clues that he my have missed at the time. Most of the time though after he was done daydreaming he would either hum or sing to himself.
He moved away from the oven to open the fridge and take out a beer. He took a few sips and washed the liquid around his mouth a few times. It was that moment when he realised something was missing, he just couldn't think what. He took another sip of his beer and leaned against the counter. He had the joint of meet, the vegetables and even some ice cream for desert, but among those things were was something missing. He raised his bottle of beer up his lips for another sip when it suddenly hit him. 'Wine' He thought. The last time he had cooked a joint he had soaked it in wine and if his memory was correct it had been delightful.
Hutch gave his cupboards a good going over, but he couldn't find so much as a drop of wine, either colour. He sighed and leaned back against the counter. He could pop down to the corner shop to pick up a bottle, but that would mean leaving the oven on and that was dangerous. He considered not added any wine, but his taste buds rebelled against him, demanding that he go get some. He sighed and decided that leaving the oven on for a few minutes while he popped out was not a big problem. He had left the oven on before when he'd gone to see a neighbour.
Upon making his decision Hutch checked the joint of meat to see if it was cooking well and once satisfied that it was he searched the living room for his coat. As he put it on he thought about leaving a note for Starsky but he really didn't plan on being long and decided against it. He switched off his lights and left.
TBC
Special Thanks to: My own partner Selena Thomas. If it weren't for her I would not be writing this. She is my inspiration and muse and one hell of a talented writer herself. If you deny that Sel I'll have to hit you with a stick I found in my cupboard.
Lost without
Cars flew by one after the other as Ken Hutchinson stared out the window of the Torino, his elbow resting on the half opened window. The day was so hot and the fresh air that blew through his hair was refreshing, but it did nothing to raise his trampled spirits.
"I must be losing my touch," Hutch said blandly to his partner. "With my luck with woman recently, something must be wrong" Dave Starsky looked briefly over at Hutch, while his fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel.
"I was meaning to ask how last night went, but now I'm afraid to" Hutch snorted.
"She stood me up. I waited at that restaurant for over an hour and she never showed"
"Maybe she was sick, she had a family emergency..."
"Or maybe she set me up" Hutch added with a gruff sigh.
"Or that" Starsky threw his friend another look, but accompanied with a lopsided smile. "One experience, that doesn't mean your losing your touch, just means you need to pick your women better." Hutch shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the cars that flew by.
"You remember Katy Stevens, that girl I dated a few years back," Starsky nodded. "I got a phone call from her the other day, she's coming back to town for a few days and wanted to know if I was free. After last night I figured I could meet her tonight, but just after lunch I got a call. She can't make it, her mother's ill," Hutch sighed. He ran a hand through his blonde locks and stared out at nothing.
Starsky hated to see his partner like this, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would cheer him up. He concentrated on driving for a while until he came up with the solution.
"Hey, how about this," He said with a smile "You come back to my place after work and I'll cook you a meal, something healthy and completely bland, how's that sound?"
Hutch frowned over at his friend, but it wasn't long before it turned into a smile.
"Under normal circumstances that offer would be...tempting, but I have a joint of meet that was meant to be cooked tonight and one way or another I am cooking it, so why don't you come over after work and I'll cook us a meal" Starsky smiled at the thought. Even though Hutch was big into health food there were times when he could surprise Starsky with 'normal food'
"It's a date, but if you don't call me the next day I'm taking your number out of my Rolodex" Hutch rolled his eyes, but his smile remained.
The joint of meat looked lonely on its tray, surrounded by nothing by gravy. Hutch sprinkled a few spices on top and added a few herbs, which gave the joint a dressed up look. Ready for a night in the oven.
Hutch checked the preheated oven and once satisfied with the temperature, slide the tray on to the right shelf and shut the door.
Hutch liked cooking, there was something about preparing a meal that satisfied him. When he cooked it gave him to think over his day, work out the high points and the low points. Think over any cases he and Starsky were working on. And whether he could find any clues that he my have missed at the time. Most of the time though after he was done daydreaming he would either hum or sing to himself.
He moved away from the oven to open the fridge and take out a beer. He took a few sips and washed the liquid around his mouth a few times. It was that moment when he realised something was missing, he just couldn't think what. He took another sip of his beer and leaned against the counter. He had the joint of meet, the vegetables and even some ice cream for desert, but among those things were was something missing. He raised his bottle of beer up his lips for another sip when it suddenly hit him. 'Wine' He thought. The last time he had cooked a joint he had soaked it in wine and if his memory was correct it had been delightful.
Hutch gave his cupboards a good going over, but he couldn't find so much as a drop of wine, either colour. He sighed and leaned back against the counter. He could pop down to the corner shop to pick up a bottle, but that would mean leaving the oven on and that was dangerous. He considered not added any wine, but his taste buds rebelled against him, demanding that he go get some. He sighed and decided that leaving the oven on for a few minutes while he popped out was not a big problem. He had left the oven on before when he'd gone to see a neighbour.
Upon making his decision Hutch checked the joint of meat to see if it was cooking well and once satisfied that it was he searched the living room for his coat. As he put it on he thought about leaving a note for Starsky but he really didn't plan on being long and decided against it. He switched off his lights and left.
TBC
