I'll Eat it Later
Starsky parked and climbed out, eagerly moving to the open the trunk of his car and collect the picnic basket that Edith had filled with all sorts of goodies. Hutch climbed out more slowly but was no less eager to enjoy the anticipated picnic. He made himself useful by collecting the checkered rug and the pack of root beers. He couldn't have alcohol with the medication he was on and Starsky was being supportive for the time being.
They trekked across the grass until they found the perfect spot: no words were exchanged, they just knew when they'd found a place acceptable to both of them.
Hutch placed the blanket down and watched as Starsky knelt and unpacked the basket.
"Sit down, Blintz, you need to conserve your energy."
"In a minute."
Hutch stood and absorbed the view, the scent of freshly cut grass, the feel of the sunshine on his face. As Starsky sat back on his heels, Hutch reached out one hand to use Starsky's shoulder as a resting post while his other hand pulled first one shoe off and then the other, quickly followed by two brown socks.
His feet released from their prisons, he stepped onto the grass and wiggled his toes.
"What are ya doing?" Starsky asked.
"Feeling the grass."
"You're weird."
Undeterred, Hutch said, "Take your shoes off, Gordo. The grass feels nice."
"No, thank you."
"Didn't you ever walk bare foot on grass as a kid?"
"In Brooklyn?"
"Oh." Hutch stood still, swaying in time to the rhythm of the breeze.
"Come on, sit down now," Starsky said, a little anxiety edging his voice. "You're not supposed to do too much too soon."
"Standing for a minute is hardly too much too soon," Hutch retorted but the slight hint of grey that washed over his face belied his assertion.
Starsky knew how stubborn his partner could be if pressed so he wisely kept quiet. Instead, he pulled a sandwich from the basket and asked, "Chicken or ham?"
"Ham."
Starsky waited for Hutch to sit but his partner stayed standing, still wiggling his toes.
"You gonna sit to eat your sandwich?"
Hutch looked at him thoughtfully and then said, "I'll sit if you take your shoes off and feel the grass with your toes."
"What is this? Third grade? This some kind of weird dare or something?" Starsky wondered.
"Just try it," Hutch coaxed.
And because Starsky would do anything for his partner in gratitude that he survived a plague that so many others had succumbed to, he started pulling off his blue sneakers.
"If I go barefoot, you'll sit down to eat, that's the deal?" Starsky asked.
"Sure, fine, it's a deal."
"Okay."
Starsky pulled off his white socks and then hopped up, wiggling his toes on the soft grass.
"It tickles but it's kinda nice," he conceded.
"See. Told you."
"Yeah, yeah. Now sit down and have your sandwich."
The two of them settled on the rug and Starsky proffered a ham sandwich. Hutch waved it away.
"I'll eat it later. I just want to absorb the sun and the peace and quiet for a while."
He closed his eyes and turned his face upwards. Starsky smiled softly to see his partner's colour returning. He knew Hutch's strength was coming back too. It wouldn't be long before he'd be back to normal.
Starsky reached for a chicken sandwich and began to eat. Hutch opened one eye and peered at him.
"What?"
"You eat loud."
Starsky rolled his eyes and carried on eating. After a minute, he echoed incredulously, "Eat loud? What does that even mean, Blintz? What did they put in those meds?"
Hutch sighed and opened his other eye.
"Pass me that sandwich, Gordo. Might as well eat now. It's too loud around here to do anything else."
Starsky shook his head again and muttered under his breath, "Yep, you are one weird guy, Kenneth Hutchinson."
Hutch, whose ears were still working perfectly fine, said, "Takes one to know one, David Michael Starsky."
"Hey, I didn't use your middle name! Why'd you use mine?!"
Hutch rolled his eyes but couldn't help grinning at his ridiculous partner. Soon they were both laughing as they teased each other. Life was getting back to normal already.
