Hutch In Love

by Seentherain

To complicate issues, Hutch was just so freaking physically gorgeous that he attracted women like flies on a burrito con peanut butter and jelly. Read Starsky In Love first. This story is complete. Thanks to my beloved Hootchie, and Cindy the Glorious Cop, my readers and friends.

STARSKY & HUTCH

Hutch In Love

By: Seentherain aka Jan Schor

October 31, 2023

Disclaimer:

Hutch is 36 years old, and a man. He loves in California in the 1970s. New character Rebecca {Becca) Kaplan is in her mid-20s. She's a woman with both the mental and physical desires of a woman in the 1970s. Sex exists. I have tried to keep it honest and certainly not ugly. If any of the above makes you uncomfortable, please proceed reading with caution

CHAPTER 1

Deep, DEEP inside - Hutch believed in love.

He was a glorious mush ball.

But he tried so very hard to hide it, even from Starsky. That, of course, didn't work. Starsky knew every page of the Book of Hutch and could recite it by heart.

Love was just so… inconvenient. It distracted Hutch. It confused him. It made him feel out of control.

To complicate issues, Hutch was just so freaking physically gorgeous that he attracted women like flies on a burrito con peanut butter and jelly.

How could any sane, sensible man avoid the issue when it was super-glued to him?

They all went after Hutch. Young women, mothers of young women, grandmothers of young women. Also, men (awkward but unavoidable sometimes) dogs, cats, and birds. He was an equal opportunity sex magnet, without even trying.

That corn-colored hair, reflecting the sunlight and inspiring no end of bad poetry. Those Crayola crayon sky blue eyes. Like the Caribbean Sea, on a day when the Caribbean Sea was looking particularly good.

That ridiculous one-thousand-megawatt smile that could melt a glacier. Among other things. People often commented that a happy Hutch was one of the seven natural wonders of the world.

And that body; Oh, that body. His best friend and partner David Starsky called him The Blintz. And that's exactly what Hutch was - six foot one inches of golden, lightly fried skin filled with cream and dusted with sugar. Long and lanky and requiring a few dozen napkins.

Starsky had stood in line twice to get the body fur Hutch didn't have.

But no one, absolutely no one, ever voiced a complaint about that.

Hutch carried a load of baggage from his childhood and teenage years. Those years were unexceptional on the surface but were deceiving. It was such a corny cliche, but the truth was that it was damn hard being the golden boy. People looked at the outside perfection and dismissed anything else. This was one guy, they were inclined to think and whine, that had the world on its string and had no right to complain about anything.

So, Hutch guarded what was inside of him. No one had ever understood really. Except for Starsk.

Hutch had turned his attention towards being a really, really good cop. From days at the police academy onwards he was the poster child, the definitive officer, fast track with a foot barely on the brake.

If he didn't have Starsky, he didn't know what he would do. For every crappy thing in his life, the powers that be had collected all the grief together and given him in exchange one David Michael Starsky. And Hutch felt overcompensated.

Me and Thee. Us. Although Hutch knew that Starsky knew, it embarrassed him a little. This love that had meant far more to Hutch than any other substitute love had ever been. His family? - Hutch never went there if he could help it, physically or mentally. His marriage to Vanessa? Melting Creamsicle goo spattering on his sneakers before he could get a good bite.

He dated a lot. It was so easy - no one ever said no. He had decided long ago that he would practice to become very good at physical sex. Men like him didn't actually have to do that. Women wanted him even if he put out minimal effort. But he prided himself on being more than a pretty body.

Sex felt good - it was sex, after all. Some women were better than others. He liked some of them. He lusted after some of them. He wasn't overly vain but he got a kick out of the way this or that particular beauty looked on his arm.

Hutch didn't talk too much to the women he dated. His conversation was for Starsky. Hutch would walk on a beach at sunset with one of his ladies and never cared if she was enjoying its beauty as he did. He felt bad about that sometimes, but it was as it was.

When Starsky met Sivan Morgenstern, Hutch was ambivalent at first. In her own words, Sivvy was no fashion model or glamour puss. But Hutch could sense a crackle between Starsky and Sivvy that was almost like the electric current Hutch shared with Starsky. Hutch approached the growing relationship cautiously, curiously. Sivvy didn't try to cootchy-coo up to Hutch, or compete with him. This had rarely happened before. Women didn't really understand the friendship, the bond that he and Starsky shared and protected. They wanted to challenge it. But somehow Sivvy didn't.

Sivvy was just there, and she stayed.

Hutch discovered that he liked her. He was actually discovering a couple of new things about Starsky, after all this time, which simultaneously startled him and tickled him.

He had accompanied Starsky to a lingerie store one day, just for kicks. He watched as his curly-haired friend thumbed through panties of various decadence. What caught Hutch's attention was that Starsky inspected several silky concoctions of various hues but studiously avoided any blue ones.

Finally, Hutch poked Starsky in the side and asked him outright, "How come you're ignoring anything in blue?"

Starsky regarded Hutch seriously. "Well, here's a secret I'll share with you, Blintz." He took a deep breath. "Blue panties are sacred."

Hutch exhaled sharply. Starsky was so tight-lipped about himself and Sivvy and sex that Hutch could barely believe his ears.

"Sacred?" he sort of croaked.

Starsky's lapis lazuli eyes actually turned a little dreamy. "Sacred, Blintz."

And he picked up a pair of lilac-colored panties and said, "These'll do for now."

Hutch could feel himself turning red.

One evening, with beers for himself and Starsky and a bottle of Zinfandel for the lady, Hutch found himself in a deep discussion with Sivvy over Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. Hutch hadn't had this sort of debate with anyone since college, much less a female with flashing stained-glass eyes and a very definite opinion about it all.

Starsky benevolently took a seat on the couch, legs up on the coffee table, with a bowl of caramel popcorn that he had no intention of sharing.

It made Hutch a little despondent sometimes. Not because Starsky was in love; he'd never object to anything that made Starsky happy. But because Starsky had shown him what love with the right woman could be like.

The kicker came when Starsky and Sivvy had a baby that they unhesitantly named Kenneth Micah Starsky. Hutch was literally goofy at what he felt for his tiny godson, and unabashedly proud at his role as godfather. At times Starsky virtually had to pry his son from Hutch's arms.

Sivan had taught both Starsky and Hutch how to feed and burp the baby. After that, she almost never had to. Starsky had even made it awake for a couple of middle-of-the-nights.

But Hutch.

"I'm thinking of hiring Hutch as full-time nanny," a weary Sivvy mentioned. "I think he'd even get up for the 4 AM feeding. Maybe even change diapers."

The baby was just starting to be able to focus his eyes, which had deepened to his dad's lapis lazuli. When those eyes zeroed in on Hutch's he could hardly catch a breath.

Sometimes Hutch even pretended that Kenny was his own baby. Now, THAT was embarrassing. Starsky must have known but out of his own kindness never mentioned it, even in fun.

That love that Hutch tried so desperately to keep inside was getting harder and harder to contain.

Together with the feeling that after all this time, it just wasn't going to happen to him.

CHAPTER 2

Approximately one month earlier:

Hutch was jogging in the park. Headphones on. Listening to The Allman Brothers - good, brisk music for a run. Occasionally he'd slow down and check his pager - Sivvy was in her 9th month and about to pop. When that happened, Hutch was determined to be in the midst of the action.

He must have been in a bit of a trance, because he tripped over something - someone - and that someone nearly fell.

Hutch instinctively grabbed, to keep the person - the woman - from falling. He caught an arm and what felt like part of a breast.

Whoops.

He up righted his parcel, who looked somewhat disheveled yet gave him a blinding smile. Damn cute.

She was dressed in shorts and a very loose tee shirt. Dark red hair in a short ponytail, pieces falling from it onto her cheeks. Despite the red hair, barely a freckle - skin like cream from the top of the bottle. And eyes like a storm at sea, grey-blue and thickly lashed.

She said, "Whoof." Very inelegantly.

Hutch, recovering first, was suddenly finding it extremely hard not to laugh.

She looked up a few inches and got a gander at Hutch's face.

"Oh boy," she murmured. "Do I have a concussion?"

"You didn't hit your head," Hutch reassured her.

"I must have. Are you for real?"

"Last time I looked."

"People don't look like you. Outside of princes in fairy tales."

Hutch suddenly felt very glad that he presented himself well from the outside.

"I assure you," he said, "that I'm not a fairy tale."

"Coulda fooled me." The young woman sort of shook herself and stood up straight. Her nose reached Hutch's chest.

Hutch eyeballed her appreciatively. Still as cute with the second and third look. Not at all the typical 'Hutch type'. Hutch tended towards tall, lanky, small-busted blondes. This lady was none of the above. It didn't matter.

"I'm Ken Hutchinson." He extended his hand. "Everyone calls me Hutch."

"I'm Rebecca Kaplan. Everyone calls me Becca."

"Ummm - are you single, Becca?" Nothing like diving headfirst into the pool.

She nodded. "Just. I've been jogging to clear my head from a fractious parting of the ways."

'Fractious'? Nobody that Hutch had ever dated would have even known the word.

"Bad, huh?", he ventured.

"My heart's bent, but not broken. It was a good decision on my part."

"Can I-I- take you out for lunch?"

She looked at him from behind long lashes. "A pity lunch?"

Hutch stared.

"Well," she shrugged. "Anyone seeing the two of us together is going to assume that you're doing me a big favor."

"Oh, come on. That's ridiculous. Are you fishing for compliments?"

"No. Just realistic. I'll bet you have to peel women off you like those new post-it notes they're starting to advertise. I'd have to handcuff you to keep you by my side."

"Ah-by coincidence, I happen to have handcuffs."

She looked startled. "A pervert, to counter those angel looks? I should have known."

"Actually, I'm a cop. A detective."

"Really?"

"Yup. Really."

"Let's see the handcuffs."

"Only if you'll have lunch with me."

"Well, I will, but I sure hope I'm not forgetting any traffic tickets I may have. Are you going to do a check on me afterwards?"

Ah, grinned Hutch to himself. Almost too good to be true.

CHAPTER 3

Of course, Hutch took Becca to The Pits.

Huggy greeted Hutch extravagantly.

"Please don't tell me that this is your cousin, Hutch ma man."

"Huggy, this is Becca. We ran into each other in the park earlier today."

"Literally," Becca put in. "Hello, Huggy. I like your place."

"A woman of good taste. Despite the fact that you're here with Blondie."

Hutch quickly interspersed himself between Becca and Huggy. Huggy received the Hutchinson Finger.

"Back table free, Hug? And shut up."

"At your service, bro." He made a deep bow and took Becca's elbow, guiding her and pulling out one of the chairs.

"What would you like, Becca?" enquired Hutch. "Everything's good. Maybe not for the hips, but it tastes delicious on its way there."

"Can - can we share something? I'm starving, but I don't want to cancel out what little calories I expended on my jog."

"Why don't we just say the hell with it and both order a cheeseburger and fries? Huggy's specialty."

Becca's eyes gleamed. "Oh boy." Then she said, "You have a partner on the police force, I assume?"

"Starsk. David Starsky."

"Tell me about him."

"I can't tell you about him. Starsky is indescribable. I can ATTEMPT to tell you about him, if you have about 10 years to spare."

"Wow. Superman, huh?"

"More."

"You sound a little embarrassed."

"Becca, Starsky is like a twinkling star in a lonely sky. He calls me a mush brain, and where he's concerned there's no doubt about it." Hutch couldn't believe he was saying so much, such personal stuff.

"Wow. I'd love to be Starsky; having someone feel that way about me." Pause. "Is he married?"

"Yes. To a wonderful woman named Sivan. Sivvy. In all this world, he found Sivvy and she found him."

Hutch let his thoughts drift a bit. "She's very, very pregnant. Starting her ninth month. I'm going to be the godfather."

"That's an honor."

"I have to confess; I would have been crushed if they'd've asked anyone else."

"Well, I don't even know them but I can't believe they would have picked anyone else."

"You'll meet them. It's a tricky time for us all, what with the baby so near. They did a special test a few months ago. It's a boy. He's going to be named Kenneth Micah Starsky."

"Kenneth? After you? Wow - another honor."

"They're Jewish. I don't know if you know, but in the Jewish religion you're not supposed to name the baby directly after a relative that's living."

"I know. I'm Jewish."

"You are?"

"Yep. Now don't go saying 'funny, you don't look Jewish.'

"Well, to tell you the truth, you look like a Dublin lass pitching Irish Spring soap."

"So, I've been told. But I assure you I'm a Member of the Tribe."

"That's what Starsky says!" Hutch was delighted. "A MOTT!"

"And I'll bet that you're about as non-Jewish as they come."

"Technically. Sivvy calls me a JIT - a 'Jew in Training'. She and Starsky have taught me a ton of Yiddish words." Pause. "And I'm circumcised. I can't believe I just said that."

"Neither can I."

She leaned back in her chair, looked Hutch smack in the eyes, and sighed.

"So, what's going to happen, Hutch? Friends With Benefits?"

Hutch stared, then said crossly, "Enough of this. You keep groveling for compliments. You know and I, not being a blind half-wit, also know that you're adorable. Friends With Benefits isn't exactly what I have in mind."

"I'm glad you have something in mind in that regard. It would be really embarrassing for me otherwise."

"Uh…why?"

"Because as hungry as I am for a cheeseburger and fries, I'm hungry for something else more. I can't believe I just said that."

Hutch gulped a little. This had happened to him dozens of times before. And yet it felt like it had never happened to him. He squirmed a bit in his chair. This little redhead was seducing him like a seasoned courtesan in a bordello. It was gloriously erotic. She was playing him like a hooked trout.

"My best friend Cindy says that once in her life every woman should go to bed with an absolutely gaspingly gorgeous man," said Becca, moving closer to Hutch. "Just for the experience. She can know that it'll go nowhere, and she won't give a damn."

CHAPTER 4

Later that evening, in Hutch's bed:

"I'm into foreplay, Hutch. Tit for tat. You're not going to lie back like you probably do with your other sex partners, phone it in, and let me do all the work. You're going to give me something to remember you by."

"You can't possibly think I'm going to forget you, mush ball." His endearment for Starsky popped out. Although he certainly wasn't thinking of Starsky at this particular moment.

"No, I don't think you will. Because I'm not just in this for what you can give to me. I'm going to make it very, very, hard for you to forget me."

She kissed him. Hutch, an expert at kisses, leaned into it and accepted her tongue as if it was appending itself to his own. She stopped only to nibble at his lips before plunging inside again. It seemed to go on endlessly. Thank goodness.

Hutch's body was heating up. Action was happening southward. Hutch knew he was large down there. He had been in enough police locker rooms to see that he was bigger than the average guy. Not that he consciously looked, but guys noticed these things out of the corners of their eyes. Hutch usually regarded his 'thingamajig' dispassionately, as he would a good buddy who almost always did its duty well and didn't give him trouble. Never really worried about what the opinions were of the women on the receiving end.

But this time he did. He was as gloriously stiff as a vaulter's pole. Had never previously taken a tape measure to the thing but he instinctively knew now that he was approaching if not surpassing any past record. He kicked off the top sheet and hoped she was getting a good look. When he wanted to, Hutch could be as vain as the next guy. He wanted Becca to really, really like what she saw.

She certainly seemed to. She kicked her own side of the sheet off to display proof that she was very much a natural redhead. She was proud too.

"See?", Hutch said a bit hoarsely. "I told you I was circumcised."

"You did, you did. Here, let me look again."

CHAPTER 5

Three weeks later. Seeing each other virtually every night.

Becca had just levelled Hutch with a verbal punch.

"You want to go out," he repeated her words slowly. "With your friends and another guy?"

"Are you telling me that I shouldn't?"

"I - I can't do that," Hutch mumbled. "Can I?"

"The way things stand this minute - no you can't."

"Do you really want to?" Hutch couldn't meet Becca's eyes.

She did it for him. Her head shot up and her sea blue eyes fiercely met his.

"And what exactly am I going to do, Kenneth Richard Hutchinson, when you wake up one fine day and tell me 'Becca, it's been swell. A blast. But I want my freedom.'

Hutch couldn't believe his ears. "Have-have I given you any reason to think I'd say that?"

"Oh, Hutch. Hutch. You're a free bird. What's gonna tie you down? Who's gonna tie you down? You're a seagull swooping against a blue ocean sky. Look at you."

"And you're basing this on what I look like outside?"

"It's wrong of me. It's absolutely shitty of me. But I'm afraid to care for you too much. More than I already do. There, I've said it. More than I already do. I'm afraid it's going to hurt too much when you leave me."

Wait. Hutch was stunned. 'That's MY line, Becca. I'M the one people leave. I'M the one who's going to get hurt. Can't you see that? Can't you feel that?'

"Why - WHY - do you feel this way about yourself?" he blurted out. "Becca, you're beautiful. Outside and inside." Soapy. Soapy.

Becca shifted her position on the couch, and sighed.

"Well, I always thought that an hour or two with a good shrink wouldn't hurt me. So, you, my darling, are hereby the designated psychiatrist."

She plunged right in.

"I was a cute teenager. I'll admit it. And for a certain window of time my face and body peaked together. And that was the problem."

Hutch was very quiet.

"The thing is that I was friendly with some extremely hormonal girls who were having sex at a very young age. And blatantly so. Hutch, they started at fourteen years old. I could tell you stories that would make your hair literally stand on end."

"And you?" asked Hutch softly.

"Me? I was the resident virgin. Eager and scared at the same time. One day I'd know I was doing the right thing by waiting, the next day I was telling myself that I'd do it with the next guy I met without asking his name first. We girls hung out at the beach. The lifeguards were young, horny, and sniffing all around. But they were sniffing about my girlfriends and just respectful to me. Oh, I could tell they were interested in me. Some of them were - well, here's a horrible word but they were kind of worshipful. But the moves they were making were all on my girlfriends.

One of the guys really had a crush on me - a serious, obvious one - but he was sleeping with one of my best friends. Everyone knew it. And, one day my friend said to him, flat out, "Is it going to be her or me?" And he said, 'It's going to be Becca.'

"Everything went to shit after that. My girlfriend was really hurt. Here he was, thinking that because he'd picked me, I'd fall gratefully into his arms. Me, knowing that I could never be with him because you don't do things like that to your best girlfriends."

She pulled on her lip, reflecting. "One night after that, towards the end of the summer, a bunch of us were in a bar on the boardwalk. All my girlfriends were paired up except for me. And it pissed me off enough that I vented in private to one of the older lifeguards who was there. And do you know what he told me, Hutch? Do you know what he told me? He told me that the problem was that I was the kind of girl that guys wanted to marry. Someday. But right now, all they wanted was to get laid. And they knew that I wouldn't so they didn't."

"Well," said Hutch. "That's kind of…good?"

"Yeah? Do you remember being 20 years old? I'll just bet you were looking for a good girl. You're 36 now and I'll bet you're still just looking for a good girl."

Hutch lapsed into silence again. He knew he didn't have the definitive argument. Even though his heart wanted a good girl, history had proven that his hormones almost always led him to girls considerably south of good.

"The one positive thing I can say about this is that when I finally did lose my virginity - and it was years later - the experience was totally non traumatic. I was thrilled actually. Didn't love the guy but lusted after him. Didn't even tell him I had never gone all the way before.

And just - JUST so you don't think I'm basing the way I am on this one thing, here's something else for you to chew on. Several years later, another good friend of mine broke up with her husband. No more than two days later he shows up at my house and asks me if I'll have sex with him. Two days after he broke up with one of my closest friends! And here's the punch line, Hutch. Wait for it. He tells me that he'd asked my girlfriend if it was okay if he slept with me and she said sure!

There was a pause. Then Hutch said, "Did you?"

He left out 'sleep with him'.

Becca's tone was subdued. "Even 'I' wasn't insecure enough to say yes to that. The pick-up line of the century. 'Hey, I asked my wife and she said it was okay'. I felt like saying to him that his approach was so hot that I couldn't wait to take my panties off. But I didn't have the guts to say that. I just said no."

A bit of mist developed in her blue grey eyes.

"So somehow out of all of this I've always felt like… like I didn't have what it took to really grab a man's interest for the distance… to keep a man; to have his soul and not just his…well, I don't have to spell it out for you. I thought that I was okay looking and a person worth knowing and having but that I was never going to inspire a permanent white-hot passion… And when you feel that way about yourself, it's like a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Well." Hutch suddenly felt a painful thrust in his gut. Vanessa. Jeanie. Gillian. "White hot passions almost always die. I - I never had one that lasted."

She quirked a brow at him. "Women left YOU?"

"I was married once before, Becca. It started out white hot but fizzled totally within a few years. Her decision, in the end." He paused, thinking of Jeanie and Gillian. "And there were a couple of white-hot passions that for one reason or the other, just died. Not good stories."

"It's hard for me to imagine any woman leaving you."

"Well, Hutch muttered a little bitterly. "Start imagining."

Becca reached out and touched his arm.

"I'm not going out with my friends and that guy, Hutch. Not this time."

Hutch looked up.

"Don't worry, Hutch. I'm not putting any strings on you. I know where we are right now. Maybe I'll change my mind next week or next month. But I'm not going out with that other guy tonight."

Hutch didn't notice his own sigh of relief.

CHAPTER 6

Hutch knocked with his elbow on the door of Starsky and Sivvy's apartment.

His hands were filled with a teddy bear and a bag from his favorite neighborhood grocery store. Artichokes lightly fried, hollowed, and stuffed with chive cheese. When Hutch went off his health plan he always did so like a lush on a bender.

He didn't close the door behind him.

A kiss for Sivvy, slap on the back for Starsk, and an immediate grab for Kenny.

"Ummm - guys, I have something to tell you." he said.

Starsky's ears perked up like a corgi's.

Hutch shifted and said, "I have someone outside who I want you guys to meet. Very much."

He pushed the door open and Becca walked in.

Excited yet shy. Looking beautiful. Hutch dropped what he had been carrying and put his arm around her.

"Sivvy, Starsk - this is Rebecca Kaplan. Becca. We've been seeing each other for a couple of months now. Exclusively."

"Hutch!" cried Sivvy. "You rat. You didn't tell us?"

"You had enough on your minds."

Sivvy stepped forward and looked into Becca's eyes. Took her hand.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to meet you," said Sivvy. She almost sounded tearful.

"Me too," replied Becca, looking a little weepy herself.

Starsky said nothing, but reached out to Hutch in a gut-splitting hug. The baby was temporarily squashed between them and voiced his displeasure in a squawk.

Then Starsky gave the same hug to Becca.

"I knew there was somethin' goin' on," Starsky gloated. "I knew it. I have ESP. I'm going to buy a dozen lottery tickets tomorrow."

They all sat down. Hutch wouldn't give up Kenny until Becca said softly, "Sivvy, may I hold him?"

Hutch reluctantly gave up his bundle to Becca, whose arms curved gently and instinctively.

"Bubaleh," she said to the tiny face.

'Darling child', in Yiddish.

"BUBALEH?" Starsky's face shot up with the force of a cannon.

"Did you say 'bubaleh?" gasped Sivvy. "What did Hutch say your last name was - Kaplan? You're a KAPLAN?"

In response Becca began crooning to the baby in her arms.

"Shlof mayn kind, mayn treyst…."

Starsky literally held onto the wall. He could remember his mother singing that Yiddish lullaby to himself and Nicky.

Sivvy sank weakly onto the couch. She could remember her grandmother singing that Yiddish melody while rocking Sivvy in her arms.

"Sleep my child, my comfort…." whispered Sivvy. "Becca, you're Jewish. Oh my God."

CHAPTER 7

The foursome went to the beach on a beautiful Saturday.

Kenny, the fifth wheel, was comfortable in a baby seat. It was his first trip to the ocean.

Hutch put on his shades and prepared to enjoy one of his favorite places on earth.

And it was some view.

Sivvy and Becca both wore bikinis. Sivvy still had about an inch of baby weight to lose on her waist, but her bustline had increased an inch and a half so she still looked like a Pocket Venus on speed.

Hutch adjusted his sunglasses and appraised Becca. She almost looked abashed next to the resplendent Sivvy. Becca's assets, Hutch realized not for the first time, hit one by surprise. Less opulent than Sivvy, but much more than acceptable in their own right.

That Starsky. How he freaking sensed things had always astonished Hutch, but the way Starsk treated Becca was almost uncanny. Somehow, he had determined Becca's insecurity and just wouldn't accept it. Hutch realized, with pleasure and pride, that Starsky seemed to adore Becca. In a flirty but platonic way that would never hurt his wife. Like a twinkling lapis lazuli eyed schoolboy dipping pigtails in the inkwell.

Becca both reveled in it and was a little fearful of it. In his own way, Starsky was as glorious as Hutch, who was of course as smoking hot as a forest fire. Better than every lifeguard who ever underappreciated her. Hutch knew that Becca would rather run into the ocean without a life preserver than do anything that would remotely disturb Sivvy. But Sivvy was intuitive enough to understand what was going on. She did her share of flirting with Hutch himself.

Hutch watched Becca standing with her toes in the waves, focused on some seagulls that were squalling in a sky the color of Hutch's own eyes. She was actually listening to the birds, loving them. Unaware of the appreciative eyes of a couple of young men who had placed their beach blanket nearby. Hutch felt himself on the alert, ready to hop into action if the men got too interested.

The Starsky and Hutch dynamic had shifted since Sivvy and Becca and Kenny had entered the inner sanctum. Nothing but nothing could ever change Me and Thee. Hutch, being Hutch, had deep down been concerned about that. There were many different kinds of love, he knew, but he guarded his special love with Starsky and didn't know what he would have done if that had been threatened. He was as insecure as his Becca was.

But the relationship had stretched and reformed itself into a beautiful variation. Not subtracting from, but multiplying.

Almost before the words, "I'm hungry" came out of Starsky's mouth Becca spun away from the ocean's edge and motored toward the picnic baskets. "You take care of the little baby, "she instructed Sivvy, "and I'll handle the big ones." Both 'big babies' received their beverage of choice - Starsky a root beer and Hutch a bottle of water with sweat beads on it.

Sivvy could tell a naughty joke better than anyone on the planet. As Kenny snarfled contently at his bottle of milk, she said to Becca, "David and I played Sex Olympics last night."

Starsky already had his head in his hands.

"Oooooh?" replied Becca theatrically. "How'd he do?"

"I gave him a 9.9 out of 10."

"Only 9.9?"

"He slipped on the dismount."

A moment before, Hutch had taken a mouthful of water. Sprayed that water all over the place. Had to be pounded on the back by Becca.

'Oh', he thought. 'This was the life'. It was a long time since Hutch had felt that things were…falling into place. Each day - and night - he was becoming more and more aware that he would be actually crushed if Becca left him.

Last evening, he had taken the lead. Had enthusiastically tossed aside Becca's clothes as if he was undressing a Barbie doll. A few days before, he had visited Starsky's lingerie store and decided that black satin tap pants were going to be 'sacred' for him and Becca. She adored them and had them on for around 5 seconds before Hutch left them in a dark puddle on the bedroom floor.

He had scarcely pulled her snuggly kitten of a body on top of him before she shuddered against him. Hutch, that old indifferent Hutch, then lost it - gloriously, spectacularly. Not for the last time that night, for either of them.

Now, on the beach the next day, still sexually surfeited, feeling loved and appreciated from all sides, and with a hummus and pita sandwich in his hand, he found himself thinking seriously about making a very big commitment.

CHAPTER 8

A week later. Becca's thoughts:

It was the end of the month, the 4th month that I had been seeing Hutch.

Time to crack open a new packet of birth control pills and throw out the empty one.

Only there was a problem.

There were two pills left in the old packet.

Two pills that definitely should not have been there.

I looked at them, surprised at how calm I was.

Somehow during the last month, apparently on two separate occasions, I didn't take these pills. These very important pills.

I kind of quickly assessed myself. Physically, I didn't feel any different. But if anything was happening, it would probably be too soon to tell. My girlfriend Susan always swore that she felt the moment of conception as soon as it happened. But I was dubious about that.

I actually felt fine. Physically, as I said.

The mental stuff started around three seconds after I shook those two pills into my hand.

I had a big problem.

IF, that is, I was pregnant.

Several problems, and it was hard to know which one was the worst.

First of all, I wouldn't want to abort a baby. I just wouldn't. I also wouldn't want to have a baby and give it up for adoption. I don't think I could. I have absolutely no negative issue with those women whom for whatever reason chose to or had to give up their babies. I just wouldn't do it myself.

I think I'd be a good single mother. I've always been frugal and a saver. My grandmother has left me a small legacy that I haven't touched yet. Money won't be an issue. I like my job but don't love it. Could easily explore options of working part time or freelance.

The main problem, of course, was Hutch.

How Hutch would react if he found out I was pregnant with his baby was the mystery of the ages.

Actually, come to think of it, it wouldn't be a mystery at all.

Hutch is a very responsible guy.

And I've seen him so many times with little Kenny. How Hutch is so good at being an undercover cop is astonishing, as his guard totally slips down when he's anywhere near his godson. Those sky-blue eyes of his get dreamy and almost misty. I know, I KNOW, he wishes that baby was his own.

To be able to create a baby with Hutch, for Hutch's own, brought tears to my eyes.

But that meant commitment. Hutch's commitment. I could raise a baby alone but if Hutch wanted a part in it, I wouldn't be able to accept it halfway. He'd have to accept, willingly accept, not being a free bird anymore. I'd truly try to give him as much space as I could.

Sivvy does it with Starsky. There's no one more devoted to his wife and child than Starsky, but he needs his time with Hutch and frankly he's never going to be able to not be a flirt with the ladies, even if he'd never take it further than a wink and a grin.

Oh, but my Hutch.

How the hell would Hutch react to this possibility?

He'd swear he'd make a commitment to me. He'd marry me in a heartbeat. I have little doubt that he'd love me and no doubt in this world that he would love our baby.

But I didn't want him just because I could be bearing his child, even though I want to give him a child more than anything. I want it all. I want what Sivvy has with Starsky. Hell, I want what Hutch has with Starsky. That Me and Thee. That Me and Thee.

CHAPTER 9

It was another beautiful Saturday.

Kenny's 6-month birthday.

Definitely called for a celebration.

Starsky and Hutch offered to be babysitters while Sivvy and Becca planned a raid on the local supermarket.

"You do know," warned Sivvy, "that a diaper change may be required before we return."

Starsky grimaced a bit. This was the one part of being a father that he could do without, but he nodded bravely.

"If we gotta, we gotta," he conceded. "I'm gonna check the godfather rulebook. There may be a clause saying that Hutch here legally has to do it."

The two women departed to Sivvy's car, giggling like schoolgirls.

Starsky went to the open window, yelling last minute instructions. "Vodka coolers. Those frozen pigs in blankets."

Hutch pushed Starsky away from the window. "Mint chocolate chip ice cream," he shouted loudly.

The car door slammed. A hand waved out.

Starsky and Hutch grinned at each other. "We are The Men," Starsky pounded his chest and grabbed his son from his bouncy- bouncy toy. "All three of us."

He snuggled down on the couch. Hutch practically sat down on top of him. Between them Kenny was suspended. He had tons of toys but his favorites were his father's riotous brunette curls and his Uncle Hutch's silky blonde strands. He was pulling at them indiscriminately.

"Ouch," said Starsky. "Kid, that hurts." He shifted Kenny closer to Hutch and eased himself off the couch. "I'm gettin' something to drink. You?"

A few minutes later.

"Okay, Blintz. Out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Oh, come on. Don't bullshit a bullshitter. You've got something major spinning in your hamster-wheel brain. You're drinkin' my root beer, pal, and not even noticing it. And ya don't take sips.""

Hutch suddenly realized that he had drunk half of Starsky's soda, which he didn't even like.

"Gordo, this time it's some really heavy stuff."

"And who the hell else is going to hear it and know what to do? I am the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz, buddy. Use me."

He shot the infamous Starsky 'tell, tell', crooked grin into Hutch's eyes.

Hutch chuckled ruefully.

"It's Becca, isn't it?' Starsky's voice suddenly went soft.

"With a capital 'B', Gordo."

"Spill it."

Hutch signed and shifted on the couch. "You can't share this with Sivvy, Starsk. You have to promise. On 'Me and Thee'."

Starsky looked at him. "On 'Me and Thee'", he held out his hand. "Let's have it."

Hutch sighed again.

"Starsk, you know that I could always take or leave the concept of love. The commitment part especially. A person can love but not necessarily commit. "

Starsky nodded but didn't comment.

"I love - loved - my freedom. Probably because nothing hurts as much as caring and then not caring. People - they look at me, from the outside, and they never see me, you know?"

"Your family did a real number on you, kiddo, and then circled around and made sure the damage was done. Real vultures. How you came out of it the good soul you are is hard to believe."

Hutch hung his head. Starsky reached out a hand and caught a blonde strand of silk between his fingers.

"Starsk?"

"Yeah?"

"Last month, Becca thought she may have been pregnant."

Starsky exhaled audibly. 'Ah, and here we go', he thought.

"She wasn't. False alarm. She only told me after she was sure she wasn't."

"And…"

"You'd think my reaction would have been 'whew. Close call. Right?"

"No, I do not think that. I think the opposite of that. I think you were sad."

Hutch leaned into Starsky. "Overwhelmingly sad." His jaw flexed. "Soapy to beat all soap."

"How was Becca during all this?"

"Well, you can guess. You know Becca. She was straining to be casual, like it was just a 'whoopsie'. But her eyes, Starsk. Her eyes."

He hung his head further. "She'd've had that baby for me, Starsk. I know it. She loves me that much. And I love her."

"And…?"

"She thinks I could never survive not being free. She thinks I'd keep my commitment to the baby but that I would leave her."

"You'd never walk out the door if there was a baby involved. If Becca knows anything about you, Blintz, she knows that."

"But - but - she wants ME. Me, Starsk. She doesn't want my commitment if it's just for the baby."

Starsky noticed, his heart constricting a little, that Hutch said 'the baby', not 'a baby'.

"Well," he said, "that's understandable. Even a half-wit like you can see that for whatever strange reason she loves you. We both know how insecure she is - I've been able to see that from the beginning. She must have shared her reasons with you."

"She's carrying around some monsters, Starsk."

"And so, buddy, are you. Now here's the kicker: can you give her the kind of commitment she's looking for? Baby or no baby?"

"I can," Hutch said. "I can. But I don't think she believes me. Look at my track record"

"Sooo - what happens next.?"

"Well. I went searching for something yesterday. Something that for some reason I never included in my safety deposit box at the bank."

Starsky watched as Hutch went to his jacket and pulled a small velvet box from its inner pocket. He held it out and Starsky opened it.

"It's my great grandmother's engagement ring, Starsk."

Hutch continued softly, "I never even dreamed of giving this ring to Vanessa. She would have turned up her nose at it.

I never knew my great grandmother. But sometimes, when I was a young boy walking the fields with grandfather, he'd tell him about her. How tough she was, how beautiful in her own way, how stubborn. How much she loved and was loved.

Grandfather gave the ring to me privately, the last time we were together."

'No one will remember it, Kenny, when my will is read, 'he told me.' Just me and now you. It's not monetarily valuable enough for the others to consider. No one would probably want to buy this diamond. But a diamond is still a diamond, even if no one wants to buy it.'

Now there were tears in the blueness of Hutch's eyes.

"I know grandfather would have wanted me to give it to someone only if, I was sure. Of everything. And, I'm sure."

He looked at Starsky, whose eyes were now also glittering.

"Gordo, if she doesn't take this ring, I think my heart will literally break."

CHAPTER 10

Hutch had asked Starsky for a Me and Thee - not to tell Sivvy about the ring.

But Becca herself told Sivvy, the next day.

Hutch had given Becca his great grandmother's ring the evening before. Becca had asked if she could put it on a chain around her neck, just for that night. Both women now gazed at the gold necklace which Becca pulled free from her blouse. The circlet with the little but perfect diamond shimmered.

Tears pooled in two sets of blue eyes: stained glass and storm-at sea.

"What - what are you going to do?" asked Sivvy.

"Take it off my neck tonight and have Hutch put it on my finger," answered Becca. "THAT finger."

"The Hutchinson Finger?" Despite the drama of the moment, both women started to giggle.

"Well, I actually meant the ring finger on my left hand," clarified Becca. "But it puts an entirely new spin on that Hutchinson Finger phrase, doesn't it?"

"I can't stand it. I'm going to be sitting around all night, dying to call you, and pacing the apartment. David isn't going to know what's going on."

"Well, I know my Hutch and it wouldn't surprise me at all if David will be well aware and pacing the floor too."

Hutch and Becca were on his couch. Very, very silent.

"Hutch?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I'm going to take a leap of faith."

"A - leap of faith?"

"A balls-out leap of faith. Hutch - I'm diving in. I'm throwing my insecurities so far into the ocean that they'll never be retrievable. So far into the sky that the stars will reach out but not be able to catch them."

A tear, and then another, slid down Hutch's face. Whoo boy.

"I'll never be good enough for you, Becca. Never. But I'm ready to spend a lifetime trying."

"I want to put our son or our daughter into your arms, Hutch. Your own baby."

"You're my baby, baby."

Becca sighed. "I've got to be realistic. Those insecurities of mine might pop back sometimes, Hutch, no matter how I try."

"Then we'll take them in hand with my own insecurities, and beat the hell out of them. Together. I love you, Becca. Like I've never loved any woman before"

"Maybe half as much as I love you, Hutch."

"Don't argue with me, please."

"Okay", she sniffled.

"Now, may I please take that ring off the chain and put it where it most definitely belongs?" Hutch's large hand gently held Becca's trembling smaller one.

She smiled and blue-grey Atlantic Ocean eyes met sky blue ones.

"The Hutchinson Finger?"

"No, my dear," answered Hutch firmly. "The wedding finger."

Becca adeptly assisted him in achieving this.

"Lie down with me, little one." Hutch's voice was like caramel on a chocolate sundae.

Becca curled herself into Hutch's silky, comforting body.

He began to croon one of his favorite songs. "Surrender to me, with your heart and soul." His voice a breathy whisper now.

"Say you will. Say you will."

CHAPTER 11

Two weeks later:

The foursome and Kenny: back in their favorite lingerie shop.

Starsky and Hutch were at the checkout counter of the shop, asking the cashier to hold several bundles for them until they were all finished.

Hutch had Kenny in a snuggle sack on his chest.

Starsky squatted down. "We're buyin' Auntie Becca a troo-sew," he sang. He drew out the word. "A troooo-sewwww."

Kenny looked up at his father. "Da," he replied agreeably.

"Money wasted," grumbled Hutch, but he couldn't help smiling. "New black satin tap panties. They'll be on Becca for one minute and off the next."

Starsky waggled his eyebrows at Hutch and gave his best Groucho Marx leer.

"And by the way," Hutch commented. "It's not Sivvy's birthday or your anniversary or a reason to get her a troo-sew, you illiterate mush ball. But I see that you've purchased something too…."

Starsky heaved his shoulders in a mock sob. "Errr - there was a mishap yesterday with the original aqua satin panties."

"A… mishap?"

"Ummm - they sort of ripped. Badly."

"Oh," questioned Hutch innocently. "In the washing machine?"

"No, you turkey, not in the washing machine. And I'm hereby pleading the Fifth Amendment."

That lingerie shop, bless it, had a hidden surprise. A back room. Not everyone knew of it.

Hutch, Starsky, Becca and Sivvy had discovered it with glee.

"Ai yi yi," murmured Starsky reverently.

"Lordy." That was Hutch.

The two young women had already entered and were browsing with delight. They pawed through some very interesting things, while eying their men speculatively.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hutch asked Becca warily. "Like I'm a plate of barbecued short ribs with extra dipping sauce?"

"Why are YOU looking at ME like that?" Starsky asked Sivvy hopefully. "Like I'm a Godzilla-sized burrito with onions and avocado?"

"Observe this, will you?" Sivvy held up a synthetic mat of chest hair. "Someone we know needs this, Becca? I sure don't. I know someone with plenty of this, any time I want to reach out and grab him."

Becca shrugged. "If you like that kind of thing." SHE was holding up an alarmingly large reproduction of a certain male body part. "Someone we know needs THIS, Siv? I sure don't. I know someone with plenty of this, any time I want to reach out and grab him."

Both ladies giggled hysterically. Like hyenas.

Starsky and Hutch smiled benevolently at their women, then at Kenny in his carrier on his godfather's chest, and then at each other.

"Me and…," murmured Hutch. He gestured clinking an imaginary glass.

"Thee" replied Starsky. He clinked Hutch's imaginary glass with one of his own. "Me. Thee. All of us"

Pretty damn perfect, though Hutch with a surge of love. Oh yeah. Pretty damn perfect.

The End

Dedication once again to my beloved Hootchie, and Cindy the Glorious Cop, my readers and friends.