The Fridge Wars
Part One: Hutch's Fridge
Hutch came through to the kitchen to find his partner already in there, fridge door open, just staring into the appliance.
"Starsky, what are you doing?"
"Why isn't there anything to eat in this fridge?"
"What do you mean nothing to eat? There's plenty!" Hutch protested.
"Like what?"
"Eggs?"
"Ain't got time to do eggs."
"Carrots?"
"For breakfast?"
"Plain yoghurt. There are bananas to go with it."
Starsky reached in and pulled the yoghurt out. He looked at it and recoiled then showed it to Hutch.
"I ain't eating that and neither are you! Look at the mold (mould), Blintz!"
"Ah yes, better buy some more today."
"So basically you got nutthin' for breakfast," Starsky stated, sounding aggrieved.
"I have an idea," Hutch said.
"Yes?"
"Why don't you keep your own fridge stocked up instead of moaning about mine?"
Starsky looked nonplussed. "Where's the fun in that?"
Hutch rolled his eyes.
"We'd better get going so we can buy breakfast sandwiches on the way," Starsky said.
Hutch went to reach for a banana but Starsky batted it out of his fingers.
"Nope, no time for bananas. Come on, let's go!"
He dragged his reluctant partner towards the door and watched as the blond put on his holster, gun and jacket. Satisfied, Starsky opened the door and headed down the stairs.
Hutch hesitated, about-turned, dashed to the kitchen for a banana and an orange and then hurried to catch up with his non-stop junk-food loving friend.
Part Two: Hutch's Fridge: Revisited
Hutch came to with a start, senses alert. He listened. Someone was in his apartment.
Even as he calculated how to get to his gun, he heard a very quiet, slightly off-key whistling and relaxed. It was Starsky - although who knew why his partner was at his place before seven a.m. It was unheard of!
Maybe something was wrong, but the cheerful whistling didn't seem to fit with that theory. Hutch swung his legs out of bed and headed towards the kitchen.
He was just in time to see his partner, placing a frying pan on the stove and pouring in a little oil.
Before Hutch could say anything, Starsky said brightly, "Morning partner!"
"Morning. What are you doing here so early?"
"Fixing us breakfast. I figured you wouldn't want to get a breakfast burrito again and I know you didn't have time to shop last night so I went out early this morning and got the fixings for a great breakfast."
Hutch peered over his partner's shoulder at the assorted food items now littering his counter top: bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, jar of maple syrup.
"Glad you got some veggies included," Hutch observed.
"Just for you, Blintz. Now make yourself useful. You can make the pancakes while I do the rest."
"Can I get a shower first?"
"No, I'm hungry."
Hutch knew there was no point arguing: a hungry Starsky couldn't be reasoned with. He went to get some milk from the fridge and stopped dead, appalled at the sight that greeted him.
"Gordo, what are all these meats doing here?"
"That's for my breakfast tomorrow. You never have any salami in, Blintz. I thought I'd bring my own."
Hutch sighed. "You could always eat at your house."
Starsky just looked at him.
"Or not."
Hutch decided it was too early in the day for an argument. He made the pancakes and the two of them settled down to eat an enormous breakfast that would hopefully see them through the morning ahead. The case that had come in just before end of shift yesterday had necessitated a late night and now an early morning start.
As the two of them ate, Hutch thought about the day ahead. He would be glad when the case was over. Even happier once the weekend arrived.
Starsky spoke, finishing Hutch's thought, "Yeah, me too, can't wait to kick back and relax."
Hutch didn't even blink at his silent thoughts forming part of a conversation that was now external. It happened so often, they were both used to it now.
Hutch finished his last mouthful of pancake and then pushed back from the table, saying, "I suppose I'd better get ready for work."
Starsky hopped up and filled the sink with soapy water.
"Leave everything soaking in the sink, I'll clean it up later," Hutch offered.
Starsky nodded and poured himself another coffee but, as soon as he heard Hutch turn the shower on, he started scrubbing plates and pans and placing them on the drying rack. He couldn't stand coming home to a messy kitchen himself and he knew Hutch would probably be too tired to tackle the dirty dishes tonight.
By the time, Hutch was dressed the kitchen was spotless. He thanked Starsky and went to get his jacket on. He paused before they went out of the door and said, "We won't need any lunch today after that breakfast but I know what you'll be having tomorrow, Gordo."
"Oh, what's that?"
"Salami sandwiches. I don't want that stuff stinking out my fridge for longer than absolutely necessary."
Starsky punched his partner on the arm, saying, "You don't know what you're missing!"
"Oh, I think I do!"
The two of them bantered back and forth all the way to the car and all the way into the precinct. Anyone listening in might have thought they didn't have a care in the world but anyone who knew them well would know that the joking and jibes were just their way of staving off the grim reality of their job.
Once they were at their desks and opening the file they had begun writing up last night, they would be deadly serious and professional. Both of them were grateful that, as well as trusting each other fully to have each other's back, they also understood the value of humour as a release valve for the stresses and strains of a job that was sometimes difficult to handle.
Part Three: Starsky's Fridge
Starsky showered leisurely and then got dressed in shorts and t-shirt, ready for a relaxing morning of reading the paper and washing his car before picking up his partner to go to the ball game. After the week they'd had, hot dogs and a sporting distraction seemed just the thing.
He strolled through to the kitchen, happily anticipating the cup of coffee and pastrami sandwich he planned to have. After pouring the freshly brewed mug of coffee and taking a sip, he opened the fridge door and did a double take. Where there should have been a plate of pastrami, there was now a tub filled with carrots, lettuce, radishes, celery and other vegetables he couldn't even identify. There were also tubs of cottage cheese and natural yoghurt and two punnets of freshly picked raspberries and strawberries. Sticking out of one punnet was a folded note.
Starsky grabbed it and read: Thought I'd stock you up with some decent food. I'll be round for a snack before we go to the game. See you later!
Starsky closed his eyes in disgust and fake yelled, "Huuuuutch! Where's my pastrami?!"
Part Four: Fridge Wars continued.
It had been a couple of days and Hutch had fully expected some petty retaliation by his partner but so far his fridge remained safe. He finished breakfast and waited for Starsky, who arrived a few minutes later, almost on time.
As they were about to leave, Starsky said, "Hey partner, where's that blue shirt of mine that I had to leave here to dry out after that rainstorm?"
"Do you need it right now? We're running late."
"Yeah, I need it for tonight. Got a date with Mindy from that deli we went to. She liked my blue shirt."
"So she won't go out with you if you don't wear blue!" Hutch challenged.
"Nah, but I want to make a good impression."
"Oh for...fine."
Hutch went off to his bedroom then came back barely a minute later when he remembered he'd hung the shirt in the cupboard near the front door. He handed it to Starsky, who thanked him, and then they headed off.
/\/\/\/\
Starsky gave Hutch a toothy grin as he waved him off. Hutch could hear him whistling with joy as he drove away, presumably looking forward to his date. Hutch was looking forward to a quiet evening of taking care of his plants, reading the novel he'd started last weekend and maybe adding a few notes to the song he'd begun penning on Monday night.
He took off his jacket and hung it up, along with his gun, then he went to get a glass of milk and a piece of fruit. He opened the fridge, grabbed the carton of milk, sniffed the contents and then poured it into a tall glass. He took a long sip and sighed contentedly. He replaced the carton in the fridge and then turned towards his fruit bowl.
"Starsssskyyyy!"
Where there should have been bananas, oranges, nectarines and grapes, there was instead a bag of glazed donuts!
Hutch didn't find the fruit until three hours later when he went to sit at the piano and hit the first key.
"Starsssskyyyy!"