Hutch vs Starsky

Kira looked from Hutch to Starsky and back again, realizing what they were proposing. She shook her head then watched as the partners turned and walked out of the bar, arm in arm.

Once out of sight, Hutch quickly slipped his arm off Starsky's shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he saw Starsky look at him but Hutch couldn't turn to face him. Sticking his hands into his jacket pockets, Hutch looked down at the ground. "I'll see you at work Monday morning." He turned to leave.

"Hutch, wait."

"Good night, Starsky." Hutch quickly got into the Ford and headed home.

Once inside, he went to the refrigerator and took out a beer. He stared at it, put it back and reached for the bottle of whiskey in the cabinet. Pouring a glass, he sat down on the couch and stared at nothing.

How could I have done that to Starsky? How could I have gone to Kira's and let her seduce me after he said he was in love with her? Hell, even before that I was after her knowing they were dating. He took a swig of the dark liquid and winced as it burned down his throat. He had every right to go after me like that. In all their years together, one had never hit the other. Hutch rubbed his eyes as he realized that was not true. He had laid Starsky out that day Gillian was killed. Hutch's stomach turned. He was raw with grief back then and there was never a need for an apology.

Hutch downed the rest of the whiskey and slammed the glass down on the coffee table. Losing my best friend over a woman. No, that was too nice a label for Kira. She was a manipulative bitch and Hutch hated her for what she'd done. Maybe she could love two people, maybe she did love them both…but she knew she was playing with fire. She toyed with them both and he hated her.

Hutch poured another glass and downed it all in one gulp. The liquor and the self hatred boiled in his gut and he gagged. Putting the back of his hand on his lips, he swallowed hard to keep it down. Not going to waste good whiskey. Hutch's mind flashed back to the dance club and the image of Kira crawling to Joey's side. She patted the killer's hair and whispered soothingly in his ear as if he was the one who had been wronged. Hutch thought about how he felt when he watched Starsky catch the grenade. For a moment he thought he was going to lose the man who was closer to him than a brother. Hutch's hand wrapped around the glass tightly, then he stood up and hurled it across the room, just missing the window. He watched it hit the wall, exploding into shards. Disappointed that he didn't feel any release, he picked up the half-empty bottle and raised it over his head. He stood frozen in the spot, his mind racing for a moment, his heart beating hard. Hutch gradually deflated and his arm came down. He put the bottle on the table and sagged back onto the couch. He sat there in silence, listening to the wall clock tick as his eyes scanned the glass fragments sprinkled across the floor and on the window sill. His eyes eventually trailed up the wall and he studied the chip in the wall board that he could just make out in the dim light. He picked up the bottled and tipped it into his mouth then slammed it back down on the table.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, listening to the sounds of the street outside. He put the bottle to his lips again, drank, then sighed and placed it back on the table. Pushing himself up from the sofa, Hutch swayed a bit, straightened and made his way to the kitchen. He fumbled around in the pantry for a moment then pulled out a broom and a dustpan. When he walked back into the living room, he was startled to find Starsky standing in the doorway, Hutch's door key in his hand.

"Sorry, I knocked but you must not have heard me."

Hutch looked over at the glass shards, embarrassed. "What…what are you doing here?"

"I came to see if you were all right."

"Me?" Hutch looked up in shock. His eyes briefly met Starsky's then he glanced away. He moved to sweep up the glass and stooped down near the window.

"Yeah, you," Starsky said, his voice gentle. "You were pretty quiet when we left The Pits." Hutch busied himself sweeping up the glass. He picked up a plant and noticed glass in the dirt, he picked out the pieces and dropped them into the dustpan. "Hutch?" When Hutch didn't answer, Starsky reached out to rest his hand on his shoulder. Hutch pulled away, losing his balance. He fell onto his backside, putting his right hand down to catch himself. Starsky heard the sharp intake of breath from his partner as Hutch looked at his palm. "What happened? Did you cut yourself?" Starsky reached for Hutch's hand.

Pulling his hand into his chest, Hutch snapped, "I'm fine."

"Let me see."

"Starsky, stop it!" Hutch stood up quickly, leaving the dustpan and broom on the floor. He swayed and then steadied. Starsky took a step back and crossed his arms across his chest and silently watched his friend which annoyed Hutch. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh."

Hutch stormed passed Starsky and headed to the bathroom to rinse the blood from his hand. Starsky trailed after him which irritated him even more. The water stung the wounds. Hutch clenched his teeth to keep from reacting.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Starsky's calm voice came from behind him.

Hutch grabbed a hand towel from the rack, quickly wrapped it around his hand and turned to face Starsky. "How can you do that?" he asked angrily.

"Do what?" Starsky asked, honestly confused.

"Be so damnable calm!" Hutch pushed past Starsky and went into the kitchen for a new glass. He sat down in the middle of the sofa and poured a drink.

Starsky watched him then pulled a beer from the refrigerator. "Don't mind if I do, thanks." He sauntered into the living room and leaned against the doorway post as he opened his beer and took a drink. Hutch was slumped against the couch cushions, nursing his drink and his hand. "Don't get blood on that sofa. The owner is a bit of a fussbudget and he won't be too happy when he sobers up and sees it."

Hutch slammed the glass down and wrapped the towel tighter around his bleeding hand. Starsky hesitated then moved toward the couch. He stood close for a moment then flopped down next to Hutch, making the cushions bounce. Hutch glowered and Starsky smirked.

"Let me see," Starsky said softly. Hutch pulled his hand closer to his chest, not looking up. He heard Starsky sigh. Hutch closed his eyes. He felt Starsky take his hand. Hutch resisted then finally relented, not opening his eyes.

Starsky unwrapped the towel and studied the cuts. "You've got some glass embedded in here." He got up and headed into the bathroom.

Hutch opened his eyes and looked at his hand through watery eyes. Should have stuck with the beer, he thought with a belch. Starsky returned with a clean towel, some tweezers and other items. He laid them on the table, spread the towel on his lap and then took Hutch's hand and laid it on the towel, palm up. Hutch watched Starsky work, occasionally wincing as a piece of glass was removed. Starsky mumbled an 'I'm sorry' each time. Hutch began to feel himself relax despite the discomfort.

"I'm sorry, Starsky."

"For what?" Starsky asked, not looking up from his task.

Hutch felt himself tense but forced himself to relax. How could he get angry at his best friend for being what he was: kindhearted.

Hutch didn't answer. Starsky glanced up from his task and studied Hutch's face before going back to what he was doing. "S'okay."

Hutch pulled his hand away. "No. It is not okay."

Starsky grabbed Hutch's hand and reached for the peroxide and a cotton ball. "If I say it is okay, it's okay."

"What I did was wrong. Horribly wrong."

Starsky dabbed at the wounds. "You got caught up in the moment. Coulda happened to anyone."

"Don't you brush this off. Don't act like this is nothing."

Starsky dropped the cotton balls and let go of Hutch's hand. "Look, you apologized. I accept your apology. End of story."

"How can you just let this go?!"

"How can you not?!"

"Starsky!"

"What?!"

"You have to be furious at me!"

Starsky grabbed the towel off his lap and tossed it onto the table as he got up. "I slammed you up against a wall, Hutch. I hit you! I wanted to punch your lights out!"

"You should have!"

Starsky opened up his mouth to speak but clapped it shut. He turned away, running a hand through his hair then turned back. Hutch saw a look of unspeakable sadness in Starsky's eyes. "Hutch, you're my best friend and I wanted to hurt you." Starsky's voice was shaking.

Hutch looked at him in amazement then rose from the couch, putting his one good hand on his friend's shoulder. He smiled. "You are upset at yourself." It was a simple statement, spoken in awe. Starsky nodded sadly. Hutch felt tears spring to his eyes. Starsky saw and pulled him into a hug. They held on tight to each other for a moment then laughed nervously as they broke the embrace.

"You big stupid lug. Did you think I wouldn't love ya anymore?"

"Well…yeah."

Starsky burst out laughing and pulled Hutch to him again, slapping him on the back.

Hutch sat back down, shaking his head. "You're amazing." Starsky went back to tending to Hutch's hand, a silly smile on his face. It was true, David Starsky was amazing. Not for the first time, Hutch marveled that he was able to be partnered with him and thankful to have him in his life.

"Let's never go through anything like that again," Hutch said as he watched Starsky bandage his wounds.

"Not over a woman, that's for sure," Starsky scoffed.

"Unless, she's got legs that won't quit," Hutch kidded. Starsky looked up from his work to glare at his friend. "Or those blue eyes that you just want to…"

"Hutch…"

"What?"

"Quit while you are ahead." He assessed his work on Hutch's hand. "There. I think you'll live."

Hutch studied the bandages. "Thanks, Starsk."

"You're welcome."

Both men knew the simple words meant so much more. Hutch put the cap back on the whiskey and put it away. Whataya say we head over to Huggy's for dinner?

"Hey, that sounds like a good idea. We were kind of obnoxious when we were there earlier. He'll be glad to see we kissed and made up."

Hutch snorted a laugh. "I think you'll have to drive. You mind?"

"Nah, I don't mind at all."

The friends locked up the apartment and climbed into the Torino. Hutch relaxed into his seat, thankful the friendship was still intact and nothing would tear them apart. Little did he know that just a week later, something more than a conniving woman would almost take Starsky from him.

The End