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Disco Fever - Part Five

by

Abigail Crabtree

Starsky found himself glaring at the telephone.  He'd lost count of how many times he'd tried to call Hutch this morning, with no answer.  He probably spent the night with that blonde.  Sort of makes us even.  But if he doesn't answer the damn phone soon, I'm just gonna show up at his place.  I'm not good at holding things in like this.  I want things out in the open.  No matter what the outcome?  Yeah, no matter what the outcome.  Well, maybe not… I don't want to lose him.  I can't even imagine what his reaction will be.  Maybe he'll be so angry, he'll throw me out of his apartment and end our partnership.  Maybe, he'll think I'm joking.  He'll laugh and then the expression on his face will change to one of disbelief and then to one of disgust.

Starsky paced around the kitchen, pausing to refill his coffee cup.  Making a face as he swallowed the strong, bitter brew, he poured what remained in his cup down the drain.  He thought about washing the few dishes in the sink, but couldn't stand still long enough to accomplish that task.  After pacing around the kitchen for a few more minutes, he grabbed the phone once again.  And again there was no answer.  Slamming the phone down, he grabbed his jacket.  I'm going over there.  If he's not home, I'll just wait for him.

Pulling up outside Hutch's apartment twenty minutes later, Starsky was disappointedthat he found no sign of Hutch's beat-up Ford.  Feeling his courage fading, Starsky knew if he didn't get a chance to talk to Hutch soon, he might never have the nerve again.  Part of him wanted to drive away immediately and forget the whole idea of confessing his feelings.  But a larger part of him knew that leaving wasn't the answer.  I'll wait around for a while.  He's bound to show up pretty soon. 

Within minutes, Starsky was impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.  I'm no good at waiting.  Spotting the newspaper that Hutch had tossed into his back seat a few days ago, Starsky leaned over and reached for it.  Paper in hand, he settled back to read the already well read paper.

Hearing Hutch's wreck pulling up behind him, Starsky tossed the paper into the back seat.  A sharp flicker of apprehension swept through him.  It was now or never.  The thought that maybe within a few minutes he would lose his best friend caused a cold, hard knot to form in his stomach.  Would it be worth it?  Guess, I won't know until it's over.  I just know that our relationship has always been based on trust.  I can't not tell him how I'm feeling.

Starsky opened the door of the Torino and slid out of the car in what he hoped was his usual casual manner.  He was feeling anything but casual.  His palms were sweating and he wiped them on his jeans.

"Hey, Starsk.  What's up?"  Hutch stood next to the Torino with an expectant look on his face. 

"Nothing much."  Starsky wasn't sure how to bring up the reason for his unexpected visit.

"Well, I'm glad you're here.  There's something I need to talk to you about."  Hutch ran his hands nervously through his hair. 

Seeing Hutch's uneasiness, Starsky's nerves tensed.  "Hutch, something wrong?"

"Could be.  I'm not sure.  I'm not sure of anything anymore." 

Starsky forgot his own need to talk to Hutch, as his concern for his partner deepened.  "Are you sick?  You look a little pale."

Taking a good look at Hutch, Starsky could see tiny beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.  He truly looked like he was going to be sick at any moment.  "Hutch, let's go inside and sit down, huh?"

"Sure.  No point in standing out here on the sidewalk."

Starsky watched as Hutch turned on his heel and strode stiffly toward the front door of his building. 

Something's wrong.  Something's very wrong.

Starsky followed him through the doorway and up the stairs to Hutch's apartment.  Once inside, Starsky stood waiting for what he could only assume was going to be some kind of devastating news.  His suspicions only increased as he watched Hutch pace nervously around the apartment.

"Hutch, why don't you sit down and just say what you have to say?"  Starsky took a seat on the couch and patted the seat next to him.  "C'mon ."

"I can't sit down."  Hutch stopped his pacing in front of Starsky.  "I'm not even sure I can find the words to tell you what I have to tell you."  Hutch's brow was creased with worry, as he struggled to find just the right words.

"There's nothing we can't say to each other, Hutch.  Just tell me.  Not knowing what's goin' on here is scaring the hell out of me."  Starsky's biggest fear was that Hutch was ill.  Something serious, maybe life threatening.  As his mind jumped from illness to the possibility of their partnership ending for some unknown reason, Starsky felt a shiver of panic.

"You know, I always thought we could tell each other anything, too.  But this, it's just…well it's just not something I thought I would ever have to say to you."  Hutch had wandered to the other side of the room, almost as if wanting to put some distance between them.  "I don't know what to do.  I don't know if this is something I can handle.  I don't want anything to change between us.  Really, I don't.  But I think you have a right to know what's going on with me."

He's sick.  I knew it.  It's serious and I'm gonna have to be strong for him.  Starsky watched as his partner seemed to become more distraught and anxious with each passing moment. 

"It's okay, Hutch.  Just tell me. It'll be okay.  Nothing we can't handle together."  Starsky started to get to his feet, feeling the need to be close to Hutch.  It was obvious that his partner needed him.

Realizing that Starsky was getting to his feet, Hutch put up his hands as if to ward his friend off.  "Starsk, don't.  Please just stay there."  Feeling as if he were running out of time, Hutch took a deep breath, telling himself that he could do this.  Just tell him.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it."  Hutch folded his arms across his chest.  Then feeling as if he might need something to brace himself against, he backed up and leaned against the wall. 

Nodding encouragingly, Starsky licked his lips nervously and waited to hear what he was convinced could only be bad news.

"Damn, I don't know even know where to start."  Hutch wiped a hand across his forehead.  "Okay.  I know you've been thinking I'm having some sort of dating slump.  But the fact is, I just don't feel like dating."

He's sick and that's why he doesn't feel like dating.  I knew it.  Starsky waited quietly, as Hutch took a deep breath.

"And the reason, I haven't felt like it is because…"  Hutch's eyes met Starsky's, wanting to analyze his reaction. But then his eyes shifted away, knowing he couldn't handle the shock, disbelief, and most likely the disgust that would soon be mirrored in his best friend's eyes.

"Starsky, I don't want to date because I'm in love with you."  There it was done; the words were out there.  Hutch wished the floor would just swallow him up.  He couldn't even bring himself to look at his partner now.  The damage was done.

Starsky stared at his partner in utter disbelief.  Had he heard him correctly?  It couldn't be.  "I don't believe this.  Are you serious?"

Hearing Starsky's shocked tone and then seeing the matching look on his face, Hutch knew that his worst fears had been confirmed.  His partner, his best friend, the most important person in his world was repulsed by his true feelings.  The little courage he had managed to muster had rapidly evaporated.  He knew he couldn't handle the disappointment and disgust his partner was apparently feeling.  He couldn't bear to see the loathing in his face or hear the disapproval in his voice.

Trying to maintain at least a small semblance of dignity, and knowing there was nothing he could say in his own defense, Hutch knew he had to get out of the room.  I have to think.  What do I do now?

"I'm sorry, Starsky.  I'm really sorry," Hutch said in a harsh, raw voice.  "Forgive me?  Please?"  Taking a deep, unsteady breath, he turned and was quickly out the door, leaving Starsky listening to the departing footsteps on the stairs.

Starsky stood frozen, almost too stunned to move.  "What the hell just happened here? he wondered aloud in the  empty room.  "For two guys who usually can communicate without words, we somehow really got our wires crossed."

To be continued.