Disclaimer: Written for entertainment only – not meant to infringe on rights held to Starsky & Hutch.
Song Credit: Take It Easy written by J. Browne and G. Frey W.B. Music Corp. ASCAP (from Eagles: Their Greatest Hits, c.1976, Elektra / Asylum / Nonesuch Records.)
Sequel to Heart to Heart at Huggy’s by Marlene S.
Comments about this story can be sent to: mariodee94@yahoo.com

Takin’ It Easy

by

Marlene S

   Captain Dobey had been worried about Starsky and Hutchinson. The two were not just his detectives – they were more like family. He had tossed and turned so much last night, Edith had finally wanted to know what was bothering him. So he told her about Starsky’s request for a different partner, the incident in his office yesterday, and the events leading up to it.

   She patted his arm as he talked and smiled a little when he finished. "Don’t worry, dear. I’ll bet by tomorrow, they’ll have made up already." Her words were contradicted somewhat by a sadness in her eyes, but talking to her always made him feel better and he had slept a little better after that.

   So when they met him in his office first thing in the morning to let him know they wanted to remain partners, the captain was very relieved and pleased that he would not be splitting up one of his best teams. He tried not to let them know that though. Instead, he made a big deal out of ripping up Starsky’s request form. Then he gave them another lecture about acting like children and ended with a gruff, "Now get out there and do your jobs. . . and be professional, or I’ll split you up."

   He somewhat regretted the last few words when he saw the look on Hutchinson’s face, but Starsky just grabbed his partner by the arm and hustled him out of the room with a mumbled, "Yes, sir."

   The captain shook his head after they left. What am I going to do with those two? Over the years, they had caused him more worry and headaches and gray hair than most of his other officers combined. He worried about all his people, now and then, like they were his children. But these two were different somehow. In the beginning, they had been so young and determined. Not ambitious, not just trying to make the bust. No, they were trying to make a difference. So they bent the rules a little sometimes – part of what gave him the headaches and gray hair. But they really cared, and they managed to make other people care too. And somehow, along the way, they had managed to find a place in his heart. Maybe I’m getting soft, he wondered.

   Starsky and Hutchinson were both strong, intelligent, good cops on their own, but it was their partnership that made them really successful. And either of them would be the first to acknowledge that. They were very different from each other, but so in sync. A perfect example of the true teamwork that comes from combining strengths and taking advantage of differences to give them an edge.

   Yes, he was very happy that partnership was still intact.

   He couldn’t believe they would even consider splitting up, and he especially couldn’t believe the reason behind it. Sounded like some silly soap opera. Maybe the stress of the job is getting to them, he thought. When the dancehall murders started, he’d had to call them in on their weekend off, which meant they had been on duty for two weeks straight. Not to mention all that went down before that in the past few months – Hell, the past few years. Maybe they could use some time off. Wonder how I could do that without looking like a softie?

~~~~~~~~~~

   Hutch finished typing the report he was writing and pulled the paper from the typewriter. Since they didn’t have any pressing cases at the moment, they had spent the morning working on paperwork. Should make Dobey a happy man, Hutch thought with a smile. Even though the captain hadn’t seemed inclined to keep them on desk duty as he had threatened yesterday, he would probably be thrilled if they actually finished their backlog of reports for a change.

   Last night, he and Starsky had separated each going to his own place after their long talk at Huggy’s, after that kiss . . .

   Hutch shook his head and looked around to see if anyone had noticed he was daydreaming. Relieved to see that no one was paying any attention to him, he stared at the paper in the typewriter, not really seeing it.

   It was as though by some unspoken agreement, they had decided to take it slowly, and that was fine with Hutch. Maybe it was a little strange to want to go slowly, after being together so long. But this was a whole new situation now, a little scary, and much too important to mess up. He had already come close to wrecking their friendship, and he didn’t want to take any chances by rushing things. Slow and easy. That’s the way it should be.

   He went back to typing his report.

   It was late last night when Hutch got home, but he’d had a pretty good night’s sleep . . . considering. He wondered if Starsky had slept okay too. They hadn’t talked about last night at all, but his dark-haired partner seemed to be in a good mood today, cracking silly jokes here and there in between complaining about the paperwork. Actually, between the jokes and the funny voices, he had Hutch laughing so much, it was surprising they had managed to get so much work done. It felt good though. Comfortable.

   Starsky had left a little while ago to go get some lunch, after a very loud growl from his stomach let them know it was close to noon.

   "Sometimes I think you do that on purpose, Starsk." Hutch was trying to sound disgusted, but he couldn’t keep from smiling.

   Starsky just grinned back. "Nobody can make their stomach growl, Hutch. It just knows when it’s hungry, that’s all," he said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "C’mon, let’s go," he prompted when Hutch didn’t seem to be moving.

   "Why don’t you go pick us up something. I’ll buy."

   Starsky’s grin disappeared and his eyebrows went up. "You’ll buy?!"

   "Yeah, just get me something from wherever you’re going."

   "You’ll buy and I get to pick the place," Starsky’s eyebrows had all but disappeared under his dark curly hair and his mouth was hanging open. He finally decided not to question a good thing, and left quickly before Hutch could change his mind.

   Now Hutch was wondering if that had been a very good suggestion. God only knew what he’d end up with for lunch. Well, I’m not all that hungry anyway.

   Hutch re-read the report and signed it. After putting it on the "finished" stack, he went downstairs to use the men’s room.

~~~~~~~~~~

   Starsky had just come back to the station, and was in the hall trying to get a soda out of the machine without putting any money into it. As he turned back toward the squad room, he saw Hutch coming up the stairs. He was about to ask him if he had any change, but the look of fear on his partner’s face stopped him short. Starsky felt his own stomach turn rock hard with dread. He turned to see what Hutch was looking at.

   Kira. Oh, is that all. The rock almost instantly dissolved from his stomach. Starsky didn’t think she had seen either of them yet. What’s he so afraid of? Starsky wondered, as he moved quickly toward his partner. When he was standing directly in front of Hutch, hands on Hutch’s arms, a big crooked grin spread slowly over his face as his dark blue eyes sought Hutch’s. The fear on Hutch’s face diminished somewhat and his expression relaxed a little. Finally, he blushed and managed an embarrassed smile himself.

   Starsky made an almost invisible motion. Follow me. It was as clear to Hutch as if he had said it out loud. They started toward the squad room without a word. Starsky was walking a little in front of his partner and to his side.

   As they passed Kira, Starsky said very nonchalantly with a nod of his head, "Sergeant Clark," and he kept walking.

   Hutch followed closely, hands in his pockets, not even looking at Kira. He didn’t trust his voice, and he really didn’t want to look at her. Instead, he casually greeted the uniformed officer at the desk on the opposite side of the corridor and pretended he didn’t see her. Starsky opened the door for him and as it closed behind them, Hutch breathed an audible sigh of relief. When he sat down heavily at his desk, Starsky was grinning at him again.

   "What?"

   "You didn’t see her face, did ya?"

   "No, I didn’t want to look at her."

   "You shoulda. It was all I could do, not to laugh out loud," he said plopping down into his own chair, facing Hutch across the desk. "She’s probably out there picking her jaw up off the floor," he said with the smug grin still on his face. "And you, since when are you afraid of a . . . a girl?"

   Hutch couldn’t help but smile with his best friend grinning at him, but he didn’t have an answer for Starsky's question. He wasn’t sure why, but when he saw Kira in the hall, he’d felt almost paralyzed for an instant. Maybe he was just subconsciously connecting her with the idea of losing his partner.

   After a minute or so, Hutch asked quietly, "You think she was surprised?"

   Starsky didn't seem to notice that Hutch had avoided the question. He was busy digging in the lunch bags. He shrugged, "She looked surprised."

   "Why?"

   Starsky hesitated then and looked at his blond partner, shaking his head as though he didn’t understand the question.

   "Why should she be surprised?" Hutch clarified. "We didn’t do anything . . . out of the ordinary."

   "Maybe she thought we’d be mad at her or something."

   "Or mad at each other . . ." Hutch said quietly. After a pause, he added, "Maybe she didn’t expect to see us together."

   Starsky had been looking at him with a thoughtful expression. "You sayin’ she planned it that way."

   I guess it’s possible she just heard about what happened yesterday, he thought. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, he shook his head and said, "No, . . . I don’t know . . ."

   Starsky hesitated another minute and then shrugged. "Doesn’t matter, really. If that’s what she expected, she was wrong." He went back to digging in the lunch bag, retrieving a veggie sandwich ala Huggy Bear for Hutch and a Starsky special for himself. Remembering the sodas, he asked, "Got any change, partner?"

   Hutch just shook his head, smiled, and handed over the quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~

   After lunch, they kept working on paperwork. A long discussion about monster movies had now become a debate over whether or not King Kong and Godzilla were "classics." Of course, Starsky thought they were and Hutch just thought he was crazy. A few other people, including Minnie, got involved in the discussion, until Dobey stuck his head out of the office to see what all the commotion was about.

   "Just a friendly little conversation, Cap’n," Starsky claimed with his usual charm.

   The captain wasn’t buying it though. "What are you two doing anyway?" Dobey was surprised to see them obviously working on reports.

   "Just finishing up our paperwork, Captain," Hutch said in his most polite voice. "I was just about to bring these into you," he added, picking up a stack of papers and handing them over the desk to Dobey. The look on the big man’s face was worth spending the whole day on reports.

   Totally at a loss for words, Dobey just took the stack, turned around, and went back into his office. Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and burst out laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~

   It was late afternoon when Hutch pulled his last report out of the typewriter, just as Starsky threw a paper airplane at Minnie. She was leaning over a nearby desk talking to one of the uniformed officers, but she turned and gave him a dirty look. Starsky twitched his eyebrows at her. "Jus’ seein’ if you were awake, schweetheart," he said in his best Bogart voice. She just shook her head at him, but she was smiling.

   Hutch punched him lightly on the shoulder, "Here, sign this, Bogey, so we can get outta here." After Starsky signed it and Hutch disappeared into Dobey’s office with the rest of the reports, Starsky folded up another airplane and threw it at Gabe on the other side of the room. Gabe didn’t find it amusing.

   Starsky had their desks cleared off and their jackets in hand when Hutch came out of the office. "What’s the matter?" he asked his stunned-looking partner.

   "You’ll never believe this," Hutch said, taking his jacket from Starsky.

   "What?"

   Hutch was shaking his head and walking toward the door.

   "Will ya tell me already?" Catching up to him, Starsky put a hand on his arm, and Hutch turned back to face him.

   "He gave us two days off. Plus the weekend."

   Starsky just looked at him, speechless for a minute. "We got four days off?"

   "Yeah, he said since all our reports are finished and we had to work last weekend . . ."

   "C’mon, Hutch," Starsky said, with disbelief, "Don’t joke around like that."

   "I’m not joking, Starsk," Hutch said, seeming to snap out of it finally. He took Starsky’s arm and moved him toward the door. "Let’s get outta here before he changes his mind."

~~~~~~~~~~

   "Let’s go by Huggy’s and get a beer," Starsky suggested as they were walking through the parking lot.

   "Okay."

   "Wanna ride with me?" They had driven to work separately that morning, so both cars were there.

   "Well, . . . I don’t know . . ." Hutch pretended to hesitate, but he was just joking. No sense in taking two cars. Besides he’d rather ride with Starsky. "Maybe . . . if you promise not to drive like someone who got his license by mail order."

   Starsky just gave him a dirty look, "Just get in the car, Blondie, before I handcuff ya and throw ya in the trunk."

   "Yeah, yeah, promises, promises," Hutch said smirking a little. "All talk and no action."

   Starsky had to smile at that. So, you wanna see some action, huh, Buddy. His dark blue eyes had a mischievous gleam, but he didn’t say any more as he dug out his keys and they headed off toward Huggy’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

   They were both quiet on the short drive to the Pits, each lost in his own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence though, and they were both thinking about the same thing – Four days off. While Hutch was wondering what had come over Dobey, Starsky was planning. By the time they arrived at Huggy’s, he had it all lined out.

   "Hey, dudes," Huggy greeted them warmly when they came in. "I’d say ‘Look what the cat drug in,’ but ya’all are actually lookin’ pretty good for a change. The big guy must be takin’ it easy on ya."

   Starsky and Hutch exchanged a look.

   "Can we get a coupla beers, Hug?" Starsky asked.

   "Sure, comin’ right up, man."

   "Wanna shoot a game?" Starsky asked, but he was already moving toward the pool table.

   Hutch hesitated a minute then followed. "Okay, Starsk, but no bets." No bets, no stupid game playing, no competitions is what he really meant. Just a friendly game. "Okay?"

   Starsky gave him a puzzled look. "Okay," he agreed as he racked the balls.

   Hutch got one in on the break, but missed his next shot. He watched as Starsky walked around the table deciding on a shot, and finally called a bank shot. He made it and leaned over the table for his next shot. It was sort of a reach for him, but it made for a nice view of faded blue jeans over that tight butt.

   Hutch’s was leaning back up against the bar. Damn, he’s got a nice ass. The thought caught him a little off guard. Even though he’d occasionally had similar thoughts in the past, now it seemed different somehow. Like he had permission or something. He knew he was probably blushing when Huggy set the beer down, so it was a good thing his back was to the bar.

   The nine ball went easily into the corner pocket.

   "You lettin’ him win again, Blondie?"

   "Well, you know how it is, Huggy," Hutch joked. "Gotta keep up his self-esteem."

   Starsky chalked his stick and gave them both a dirty look before examining the table for his next shot.

   "By the way, Blondie," Huggy said too quietly for Starsky to hear. "I don’t take too kindly to friends a mine leavin’ all that green stuff layin’ around, if ya know what I mean?"

   Hutch turned toward Huggy and his cool blue eyes met the warm brown ones. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Huggy," he said in his most sincere tone.

   "Fifty bucks, is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, man," Huggy said, not buying the innocent act. "Don’t do it again."

   Hutch was saved from a response, when Starsky knocked in two balls at a time, and came over to the bar with a smug grin. "Like to see either of you bozos do that?" he said and then took a healthy drink of his beer.

   "Lucky shot is all," Huggy said with a shrug.

   "Lucky?!" Starsky was indignant. "I had that shot all lined out. Off the rail, two balls in, . . . you saw it, didn’t ya, Hutch . . . it was a good shot . . ."

   It was a great shot, and Hutch and Huggy both knew it. They just smiled at the ranting Starsky.

~~~~~~~~~~

   After a few hours of shooting pool and shooting the breeze with Huggy, the bar began to get busy. It was Friday night, and it wasn’t long before the place was packed. They had given up the pool table awhile ago and were now sitting at the bar, working on a couple more beers.

   Starsky was talking to a pretty little blonde next to him, who was giggling and blushing. Hutch was feeling a little buzzed. He wasn’t paying attention to what Starsky was saying, but he was listening to the sound of his voice. It was husky and seductive, which was distracting enough, but that in addition to the fact that Starsky’s thigh was pressed close against his, made Hutch wonder just whom Starsky was trying to seduce, the girl or his partner. Everyone was pretty much packed together at the bar, so it wasn’t really odd that he’d be sitting that close. But Starsky, who had never learned to sit still, was fidgeting off and on, leaning over closer to the girl occasionally, or reaching over the bar trying to pull something on Huggy, and even with all that, his leg remained glued to Hutch’s.

   Hutch was startled out of his thoughts by a warm hand on his arm. He turned a little to look over his shoulder into a beautiful pair of green eyes, attached to a beautiful body standing behind him.

   "Could you do me a favor, Honey?" she asked in sultry voice, tucking her long auburn hair behind her ear and then pushing a five dollar bill into his hand. "I can’t seem to get the bartender’s attention, would you order me a gin and tonic?"

   "Uh, . . . sure," Hutch managed to say through his haze. He waved toward Huggy, who nodded back almost imperceptibly. "He’ll be here in a minute," he said to the dark redhead.

   She smiled, and squeezed his arm where her hand was still resting. "Name’s Josey. What’s yours, handsome?"

   "Hutch . . ." he started to answer her, and paused realizing that Starsky’s leg had just moved, a definite movement. He glanced toward Starsky and their eyes met just for an instant. But that was long enough for Hutch to know the gesture wasn’t an accident and his partner wasn’t all that interested in the little blonde on the other side of him.

   Huggy appeared, and Hutch turned to order a gin and tonic for the lady. Then he turned back to Josey again. She was giving him a puzzled look.

   "Uh, Ken Hutchinson," he said in answer to her previous question, trying to talk over the noise in the bar. "Most of my friends call me Hutch."

   "Hutch, that’s cute." She smiled at him and reached over him to take the drink and her change from Huggy. As she leaned back, she squeezed his arm again. "Thanks, Hutch," she said in his ear.

   "No problem."

   "Wanna give me a call sometime?" Her hand was still on his arm, her face close, sultry voice in his ear.

   "Uh . . ." Hutch suddenly felt uncomfortable with her proximity and leaned back away, but couldn’t go very far. The movement did bring him even closer to Starsky, which felt reassuring somehow. "No thanks," he said finally. "I’m seeing someone right now."

   Even though he couldn’t see it, he somehow knew that Starsky was smirking behind him.

   "Oh, lucky someone," Josey said a little disappointed but still smiling. Hutch didn’t see Starsky's smirk turn into a frown – those words and Josey's voice reminded him of Kira.

   "You, betcha, schweetheart," he said into Hutch’s other ear. Hutch felt the heat rise to his face. In fact, he felt warm all over all of a sudden.

   Hutch pretended to watch Josey move away from the bar and disappear into the crowd, so Starsky wouldn’t see the silly smile on his face.

   Starsky put an arm over his shoulders, and Hutch tried to compose his face before turning toward his partner.

   "Whadda ya say we get outta here, Hutch?" Starsky said softly, and Hutch thought he how much he’d like to disappear into the sapphire eyes, gazing at him so intensely.

   "Yeah," he mumbled in response and started to get up. Suddenly, he felt a little dizzy. He stumbled, but Starsky caught his arm and steadied him.

   "Hey, you okay?"

   "Uh, yeah," Hutch said. The dizziness had only lasted a second, but he was still really warm.

   "You didn’t have that many, did ya?"

   "No, I don’t think so. Just a little warm in here. I need some air."

   Starsky left some money on the bar, waved at Huggy, who barely had time to wave back, and managed to maneuver his partner through the crowd and out of the bar.

   "That’s better," Hutch said, almost as soon as he was standing in the street, with the cool night air in his face. He really did feel better.

   "You sure?" Starsky asked with a supportive hand still on Hutch’s arm.

   "Yeah, I’m fine now," Hutch said with a reassuring smile.

   Starsky gave him a concerned look, but let go of his arm to unlock the passenger door of the Torino.

   When they were both in, Starsky started her up and asked, "Wanna go pick up your car?"

   "Not really, it’ll be okay where it is."

   Just as well, Starsky thought, not sure Hutch should be driving. Hell, maybe I shouldn’t be driving either. He’d only had about four beers spaced out over about seven hours. He didn’t think Hutch had anymore than that either. Besides they’d both had dinner at Huggy’s too, so they weren’t drinking on an empty stomach.

   Starsky headed in the direction of Venice Place.

   "What do you wanna do tomorrow?" Hutch asked after a few minutes.

   "Whadda you wanna do?"

   Hutch shrugged, "Hell if I know, but we’ve got four days, we should do something."

   "Well, then it’s a good thing I already got it all figured out." No need to worry your pretty blond head about it, Starsky thought mischievously.

   Hutch had a wary look. "Oh, yeah?"

   "Yeah."

   "So, what are we doing?"

   "Whatsamatta, don’t ya trust me?"

   "Of course, I trust you," Hutch turned away to look out the window, and added quietly, "with my life."

   Starsky just smiled a little. "But vacation plans, that’s a different story, huh?"

   Normally, Hutch would have said that himself at least jokingly, but for some reason, he wasn’t even thinking it right now. He didn’t feel the least bit uneasy about Starsky making plans for their time off.

   After a minute or so, Hutch turned away from the passenger window. He didn’t look at Starsky – he was facing forward. He said clearly, "Whatever you wanna do, I’m in."

   Starsky’s eyebrows went up at that, and his mouth dropped open. He’d expected an argument, or at least, to have to explain what he had in mind, but Hutch had just given him carte blanche. "Really?!"

   Hutch turned to him then. "Yeah, really." After a minute though, he couldn’t help but add, "I just hope I don’t regret it," but he was smiling when he said it.

   "Oh, you won’t regret it. Just wait and see, it’s gonna be great . . . I got it all figured out . . ."

   Hutch was still smiling, hardly listening to what Starsky was saying, just appreciating the sound of his voice which was filled with all the enthusiasm of a six-year old on his way to Disneyland.

~~~~~~~~~~

   Hutch was sitting on the steps in front of his apartment watching the sun come up. He was a little early. Starsky would probably be late, so it may have made more sense to wait inside, but Hutch was feeling anxious and had to get some air. Besides the sunrise was beautiful this time of year, and it gave him some time to think . . .

   He had expected Starsky to stay over last night, but instead, he had remained in the car when Hutch opened the door and got out.

   When he realized Starsky wasn’t getting out, he leaned down, resting his arms inside the still-open passenger window, and asked, "You comin’ up?"

   "Uh, no," Starsky had answered a bit reluctantly, his eyes avoiding those of his partner. "I’m pickin’ you up early tomorrow. We better get some sleep."

   Starsky was holding his breath, expecting Hutch to try to persuade him. He knew it wouldn’t take much to talk him into staying, but if he did, things might go too fast. He wanted to take it slow, take his partner away somewhere – just the two of them. We’ve waited this long, Babe. We can wait another day, he thought.

   "Oh, yeah. How early?"

   Starsky breathed a relieved sigh and turned toward Hutch.

   "Five-thirty."

   "Five-thirty?!"

   "Yeah, what’s wrong with that."

   "You really gonna be up at five-thirty on a Saturday morning, Starsk?"

   Starsky had frowned a little at the question, then said, "Okay, how about six then?"

   Hutch just shook his head, but the look of disbelief on his face disappeared quickly when Starsky leaned over, wove his fingers into Hutch’s blond hair, pulled his head toward him, and placed a firm kiss on his lips. It all happened very quickly, the kiss sending shivers through every nerve in his body, so Hutch was left with a sort of a dazed expression instead.

   "See ya tomorrow," Starsky added, as he let go of Hutch, and put the car in gear.

~~~~~~~~~~

   It was 5:54 am, when the Torino pulled up in front of Hutch’s apartment. Starsky looked a little sleepy still, never too much for early mornings, but he seemed happy. "Hey," he greeted as Hutch threw his stuff in the back seat and climbed in.

   "Hey, yourself," Hutch said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. He impulsively reached over and ruffled the dark curly hair. "Good morning."

   "Yeah, it sure is," Starsky muttered, with a smug little smile, and started the car.

   "You’re early," Hutch observed.

   "Yeah, then why were you waitin’ outside?"

   Hutch just shrugged and rolled down the window, trying to hide the smile on his face.

   Starsky started to pull away, but then stopped again, turning around to look in the back seat. "Hey, you didn’t bring your guitar."

   "No, do you want me to?"

   "Yeah," Starsky said, with a concerned expression, like he thought Hutch might say ‘no.’

   "Be right back," Hutch said and got out of the car to go get the guitar.

   When he returned, Starsky dropped a bag of bagels in his lap, and pulled a thermos of coffee from the seat behind him.

   "What, no donuts, Starsk?" Hutch asked after looking in the bag.

   Starsky just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whaddya think . . . this is just your vacation? Of course, I got donuts," he said, holding up another bag.

   "Sorry, stupid question, huh?" Hutch managed to say with a mouth full of bagel.

   "You got it," Starsky said, as he started the car again and they were on their way.

~~~~~~~~~~

   They’d been out of the city for a couple hours and were driving north on the coastal highway. Hutch still didn’t know where they were going, but he didn’t really care either. He’d been lost in the ocean view and in thought for awhile now.

   Starsky had been fairly quiet too except for humming – a little off-key – with the radio here and there. Normally, that would be driving Hutch up a wall by now, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to bother him. Nothing could bother him today.

   An Eagles song was playing on the radio.

   Take it Easy. Take it Easy.~
   Don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.
   Lighten up while you still can.
   Don’t even try to understand.
   Just find a place to make your stand,
   And Take it Easy.

   "Remember the first trip we took together, Starsk?"

   Starsky glanced sideways at him but didn’t really take his eyes off the windy road. He shook his head a little.

   "Remember, right after we graduated from the Academy, when we went to Santa Monica for the weekend. You picked me up on your motorcycle."

   "Oh, yeah," Starsky said, smiling nostalgically at the memory.

   Hutch smiled too. "I thought Vanessa was gonna have a cow?"

   "Yeah, she wasn’t too wild about the idea, was she? But then again, if I remember right, neither were you." Starsky pointed out still smiling.

   "I was okay with it."

   "Yeah, right."

   "Well, I didn’t trust your driving – even back then."

   Starsky just snorted in response. He wondered why Hutch had thought about that particular trip. He couldn’t know they were headed for a similar beach house now. Well, maybe he could – just that psychic thing they had sometimes.

   "So where are we going anyway?"

   Starsky smiled. It probably wasn’t psychic exactly. More just a matter of spending so much time together. But it is kinda weird sometimes, he thought.

   "You really wanna know, or you wanna be surprised?"

   Hutch shrugged a little distractedly. "I don’t know." He was staring out the window at the ocean again, thinking how it would feel to be riding behind Starsky on a motorcycle right now, pressed up against him, speeding down this windy road, watching the ocean go by. After a while, he remembered the question and answered, "Surprise me, I guess."

~~~~~~~~~~

   The rest of the trip passed comfortably, a little conversation, a little music on the radio, a beautiful view. They stopped for lunch at a little restaurant that Starsky swore had the best burritos he’d ever had. Hutch didn’t complain, but he didn’t eat much either. At least the place had an ocean view.

   It was about two in the afternoon when Starsky pulled up to a little cottage on the beach. It was blue with white shutters and trim, and some palm trees in the front. There was a deck off the back, then about 50 feet of beach and the ocean. There weren’t any other houses in sight.

   "Here we are," Starsky announced happily.

   But Hutch was already getting out of the car, stretching his long legs, and looking the place over.

   Starsky got out too and looked over the roof of the Torino at Hutch. "So, whadda ya think?"

   Hutch looked away from the cottage and smiled. "It’s perfect."

   Starsky grinned back.

~~~~~~~~~~

   Starsky took the steps two at a time, knocked on the door, and a slender red-headed guy about their age had opened the door and was already shaking Starsky’s hand by the time Hutch caught up to him.

   "Hey, how you guys doin’ today? Have any trouble findin’ it?"

   "Nah, it was easy."

   The guy moved aside to let them come in, handing Starsky the key at the same time. "Name’s Matt."

   "Dave Starsky," Starsky said, letting go of Matt’s hand and moving aside for Hutch to come in.

   Matt put his hand out toward Hutch and smiled.

   "Ken Hutchinson," Hutch said, shaking the offered hand and returning the easy smile.

   Matt was dressed in a tie-dyed T-shirt that was a little too big for him, white shorts, and sandals. He had freckles, big brown eyes, and dimples. All of which made him look younger than he probably was. Hutch liked him right away.

   "Well, we’re glad to have ya here. You should have everything you need, but if ya don’t, just give us a call. Number’s by the phone." He said motioning toward the kitchen. You could just about see the whole place from where they were standing.

   "Jason and I just live a half-mile or so down the beach from here," Matt added.

   Jason and I? Hutch wondered.

   After Matt had Starsky fill out a registration card and took the check, he seemed ready to leave. "Well, that should do it. Like I said, if you need anything, just give us a call."

   "Hey, are there any good places to hang out around here," Starsky asked.

   "Bars, you mean?"

   "Yeah."

   "Well, there’s a mixed place . . . It's about a mile north, right on the highway. They have a big dance floor. Good music. Usually a lot of people there on Saturday night. It’s called Pinky’s."

   "Mixed?" Hutch asked, but he was really wondering why in the world Starsky wanted to know about bars, when they had a half-mile of beach all to themselves.

   "Yeah," Matt turned toward Hutch. He looked like a puppy with those innocent brown eyes. "But it’s cool, man. Only a few straight people hang out there."

   Well, that answers one question anyway. Hutch thought.

   Starsky looked a little embarrassed, but Matt didn’t seem to notice as he continued, "Jason really likes the place. He's really into music."

~~~~~~~~~~

   The cottage was small, but nice. One huge bedroom with a king-sized bed and big picture window facing the beach, a little sitting room with a comfortable sofa and a TV, a little kitchen, and a bathroom. Everything was very clean and bright. The rooms were all painted in pastel colors. The bedroom was sort of an ocean blue, the bathroom mint green, the living room peach, and the kitchen yellow.

   The kitchen had white appliances and a white tile floor. The rest of the floors were hardwood. There was a big blue shag rug in the living room, and some throw rugs in the bedroom and bathroom.

   All the decorative touches had a beach theme. Tropical fish on the curtains in the kitchen, seashells on the shower curtain and towels in the bathroom, dolphins on the bedspread, and a picture in the living room of two people walking arm-in-arm along the beach looking out at a fishing boat. It was hard to tell for sure, but Hutch thought it was two guys in the picture.

   "How did you find this place, Starsk?"

   "Jason is Huggy’s cousin."

   Hutch snorted, "Man, how many ‘cousins’ can one person have anyway?"

   Starsky answered him with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~~

   After they unloaded the car, they headed for the beach, where they spent the rest of the afternoon. They splashed around in the waves, had a brief but intense wrestling match in the water, and then played Frisbee for awhile.

   Starsky was now crashed on a beach towel in the sand. Hutch was sitting next to him, mesmerized by the sound and motion of the waves against the shore. One lone seagull was standing near the water just a few feet from them. It took off finally with a lonely cry and headed out over the ocean.

   Hutch was thinking about Matt and Jason, living on the beach, no pressure, nobody to answer to. I’m probably idealizing it. It couldn’t be easy to live openly gay – even in a place like this. Downright impossible if you’re a cop. And everybody has somebody to answer to.

   If Starsky could hear his thoughts, he’d probably say something like, "We’re not gay, Hutch."

   But what else do you call it when you love your best friend, so much you can’t stand the thought of losing him – even to the point of sleeping with his girlfriend. Well, that wasn’t really the reason he’d done it. He didn’t plan it that way anyway. Let’s see, if I sleep with Kira, that’s sure to break them up, and then I get him back all to myself.

   No, that’s not how it happened. He liked Kira. He wanted to sleep with her. To say he’d had any other reasons was just an excuse. And there was no excuse for what he’d done. He was just lucky Starsky had forgiven him, but it wasn’t as easy to forgive himself.

   Anyway, if he had really thought it out, he would have realized how close he could come to losing Starsky forever and he never would have done it.

   That was his worst fear – losing Starsky. It had really hit him when he saw the piece of paper in Dobey’s hand – Request for Reassignment – with Starsky’s signature at the bottom. He shivered then just thinking about, even though it was about eighty degrees, and he was sitting in the sun. He hadn’t fully realized the fear until that moment in Dobey’s office.

   He leaned over and started rubbing Starsky’s back. The dark head shifted and Starsky moaned a little, but he didn’t wake up. Anyway, that was over, and somehow they’d made it through.

   Hutch had felt great yesterday and today on the way here, like everything had suddenly all fallen into place. That was a good feeling, especially when things had just seemed to be getting more and more out of control this past year.

   But as good as everything seemed, Hutch felt uneasy now. He felt like something terrible was just around the corner. He couldn’t explain it, but it was there, like a rock in his stomach. Sort of like when Gillian had talked about being surrounded by balloons, and wondering which one was going to pop first.

   Hutch mentally shook himself. "None of ‘em," he had told her. He repeated his words, but to himself this time. "None of ‘em."

   "That’d be nice." He could almost hear her say it.

   But he’d been wrong that time. They had popped . . . all at the same time.

   This feeling was like those he’d had at times before . . . usually when they were about to get shot at. But Starsky didn’t seem to be feeling it. So, why am I?

   He was still rubbing Starsky’s back and staring at the waves.

   He wanted to quit. Throw the damn badges into the ocean for good this time. But Starsky would never go for it, and he couldn’t quit without him. That’d be worse, not knowing what was happening, not being there to protect him.

   Another seagull landed right next to him then and stood there looking at him with a concerned expression, almost as though it was answering him. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.

   The sun was starting to dip and the sky was turning beautiful colors – orange, red, and purple. He let his mind drift in meditation and after awhile, the rock in his stomach had dissolved, leaving him with just a vague sense of uneasiness. He lay back in the sand next to his best friend.

   The seagull was still there, but it flew away after he fell asleep, listening to the ocean, his hand resting on Starsky’s back.

~~~~~~~~~~

   Starsky shifted a little and rolled over, feeling Hutch’s hand slide off his back as he moved. He blinked his eyes sleepily and looked at Hutch sleeping next to him. He was lying on his side, facing Starsky, his too-long blond hair falling in his face.

   Starsky propped himself up on his elbow and reached over to push the hair back off Hutch’s forehead. Soft as silk, he thought. He never wanted to stop touching it. The sky blue eyes opened slowly, blinked a couple times, then stayed open.

   "Hey," Starsky said softly, smiling.

   Hutch smiled back without moving. "Hey, yourself."

   "You have any idea how beautiful you are?"

   Do you have any idea how full of it you are? Hutch thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he just shook his head and closed his eyes in contentment. Starsky’s hand on his forehead felt good. He didn’t want to argue with that.

   "You are beautiful!" Starsky insisted, his blue eyes sparking.

   "Yeah, well, you’re a charmer," Hutch said rolling over onto his back.

   Starsky smiled and his own blue eyes softened. "Yeah, I am," he said with pride. Then he leaned over and kissed Hutch gently on the forehead.

   "Mmmm," Hutch breathed, but didn’t open his eyes.

   Starsky moved a little and kissed him with just a little more force on his lips.

   "Mmm Hmm." Hutch smiled and opened his eyes to look at his partner, who was smiling that smug little smile of his. So Hutch reached up and pulled the curly head down to him, kissing him until they had to stop to breathe. The smugness disappeared, and only a sort of dazed look was left on Starsky’s face.

   "We keep this up and we won’t be able to go dancing," Starsky said, a little breathlessly.

   "Dancing?!"

   "Yeah, I thought we’d go try out Pinky’s." Starsky pushed himself up and sat cross-legged next to Hutch.

   Hutch’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair as he pushed himself up out of the sand as well. "Starsky, that’s a gay bar."

   "Mixed," Starsky countered, then shrugged. "So?"

   Hutch just kept staring at him without answering.

   "If I wanna dance wi’ you, it would havta be at a gay bar." When Hutch still didn’t speak, Starsky added, "C’mon, Hutch. We’re far enough away from the city. No one will see us."

   "I don’t care about that."

   It was Starsky’s turn to be surprised. "You don’t?"

   The sincere sky blue eyes met his dark blue ones. "No, Starsk, I don’t," he said firmly. Then as an afterthought, he added, "What’s the worst that could happen?"

   Starsky shrugged, "We could get fired."

   And that would be bad why? Hutch wondered.

   "So, do you wanna go or not?" Starsky asked with a little pout.

   "Yeah, I do." Hutch said as he got up and picked up his towel. He grabbed the Frisbee too and started toward the house.

   A slightly dazed, but happy Starsky picked up his own towel and followed his partner.

~~~~~~~~~~

   Hutch got to the house first and beat Starsky to the bathroom. He locked the bathroom door, smiling but ignoring Starsky when he banged on it and called him a cheater.

   After he showered, he came out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around him.

   "Your turn, Starsk."

   No answer.

   The place wasn’t that big, and Hutch could see most of it from where he was standing. But he didn’t see his partner anywhere. That uneasy feeling was coming back.

   "Starsky . . ." He called, fear creeping into his voice, as he moved into the bedroom. Deciding Starsky must have gone outside, Hutch was just starting to turn around to go look when he was jumped from behind and pushed face down into the bed.

   "Gotcha!"

   He realized then – a little too late – that Starsky had been hiding behind the bedroom door.

   Hutch had one arm pinned underneath him on the bed, and couldn’t move the other arm because of the way Starsky was laying on top of him. "C’mon, Starsk, let me up." He thought he’d try reason first, especially since there didn’t seem to be any other alternative at the moment.

   "Say you’re sorry."

   "For what?" Hutch asked exasperatedly into the sheet.

   "For taking the shower first."

   "Hey, I can’t help you’re slow."

   "Say you’re sorry," Starsky said with a menacing tone.

   "C’mon, Starsk . . ."

   "Say you're soorrryyy . . ." drawing out the last word like a kid making a challenge.

   "No way," Hutch said stubbornly, his voice muffled a little in the bed.

   "Okay, then," Starsky said, kissing his neck just behind his ear. "I'll just have to . . ." he continued kissing down the side of Hutch's neck. "teach you a lesson." He kissed around the back of his neck, which was now covered with goose bumps. "Just have to show you . . ." Hutch was moaning in the covers trying to move without success. Starsky's soft lips had reached the other side of his neck and were just behind his other ear now. "who's boss around here."

   "Okay . . ." Hutch managed.

   "Okay what?" Starsky asked distractedly in between continuing the kisses down Hutch's spine.

   Hutch shivered again. "Okay, you can be boss."

   Starsky placed one last kiss on the back of the blond head, and rolled off his partner onto his back, beside Hutch. "Yeah, as if you have any say in it at all." He was smirking, and Hutch wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. The only problem was he was perfectly content right where he was.

   "Guess, I better get ready if I'm gonna take you dancin'," Starsky said.

   Hutch turned over on his side to face his friend. He reached out to twist a dark brown curl in his fingers. "We don't have to go anywhere, Starsk."

   "I know that."

   Hutch brushed two fingers along the side of Starsky's face. Starsky closed his eyes. Hutch moved closer and pressed his lips against Starsky's, bringing a groan from his partner. Starsky's arms came up around him then, the fingers of one hand were tracing lightly down Hutch's spine, those of the other hand combed through the fine blond hair. His lips pressed firmly against Hutch's as he returned the kiss.

   "Hey, babe," Starsky's said when they both reluctantly stopped to breathe.

   "Yeah, Starsk," Hutch said, his fingers in Starsky's hair again, a look of wonder in his blue eyes.

   "I really wanna go dancin'."

   Hutch raised his eyebrows as their eyes met. He looked a little surprised for a minute, then he smiled a soft, gentle smile that made Starsky feel so warm inside he thought he might melt right into the bed. Hutch's words were just as soft and gentle as the smile, "Okay, buddy, let's go dancing."

~~~~~~~~~~

   "Guess Matt wasn't kiddin' bout Saturday night."

   The place wasn't packed, but there were quite a few people there. The Beach Boys were singing through a speaker somewhere.

   "He was right about some other things too," Hutch observed.

   Starsky followed Hutch's gaze to two guys dancing. They were a little too close for the fast song playing. Several women were dancing together as well, although they weren't as obviously "together" as the guys looked. A few straight couples were dancing or sharing a table, but they seemed to be in the minority.

   "Yeah," Starsky finally said noncommittally.

   "Wan’ a beer?"

   "Okay."

   Hutch started toward the bar to the far side of the place, when he was pulled back rather abruptly by his partner.

   "What are you doing?"

   "Sorry," Starsky said a little sheepishly. " I just . . .uh, could you . . .uh . . ." He took a deep breath and started over. "Just stay close, Hutch, okay?"

   Hutch snorted a little laugh and shook his head. "Don’t worry, buddy. Your all mine," he said, taking Starsky by the arm and pushing him gently in the direction of the bar.

   They found a couple empty stools and parked themselves at the bar, studying the people around them. The place was sort of eclectic in its decoration. A lot of beach stuff mixed up with beer steins on the shelves. Red and white checkered tablecloths made it look a little like an Italian restaurant. The waiters and waitresses were all wearing shorts, T-shirts, and sandals, but the bartender had on a black tux.

   "What can I getcha?" the bartender asked shortly after they sat down. The bar itself was mahogany wood. The real thing, as far as Hutch could tell. And somehow the rather petite, tuxedoed figure, with dusty blond hair and big brown eyes, didn't seem at all out of place behind it.

   "Beer," they both answered at the same time and then turned to look at each other. Hutch raising his eyebrows, and Starsky grinning back.

   "Draft okay?" the bartender said with a friendly smile.

   "Yeah," Starsky said, and Hutch just nodded.

   As he watched the bartender reach for the glasses above the bar, Hutch realized, with a little embarrassment, that she was a girl. Funny, she didn't look at all like a guy, now that he looked again, but something about the tux and the boyish haircut had given him the wrong impression at first. Maybe that and some kind of stereotypical notion about what a gay guy should look like – or a lesbian for that matter. The trouble with stereotypes was they seldom panned out. Hutch would have expected better of himself. He and Starsky certainly didn’t fit any stereotypes. At least, he didn’t think so.

   "Never seen you guys in here before," the bartender was saying as she set the beer in front of them.

   "We're staying down the coast a little way. Rented a beach house for the weekend." Hutch explained.

   A pretty young woman with long, dark hair and equally long legs took that moment to settle herself on a barstool two places down from Starsky, and the bartender turned her attention to the new customer.

   Starsky took a long drink of his beer, glanced over in Hutch's direction, then ducked his head a little to look around at the bartender and the new arrival. He took another drink of the beer and glanced at Hutch again. Finally, he swiveled around on the stool, rubbing his hands on his thighs as his eyes traveled over the people dancing and talking around them.

   He's nervous, Hutch thought with a little smile, taking the opportunity, now that Starsky's attention was elsewhere, to check out his partner. Starsky was wearing jeans as usual, but they were brand new, dark blue, as tight-fitting as ever. The dark red, button shirt was a little dressy for him, but still casual. It was a beautiful color for him, accentuating his tan skin and those errant chocolate curls on his head and chest.

   Hutch wondered if Starsky was just nervous because they were in a gay bar, or if he was nervous about the new aspect of their relationship. Hutch was sometimes tongue-tied and shy around certain women, but he'd never seen that from Starsky. He would never have told him so, but he often admired Starsky's confident, easy charm, when it came to women. Somehow, the thought that his street-wise, cocky partner might be nervous around him, made Hutch feel special all of a sudden. He reached over and put his hand on the dark blue jeans.

   Starsky jumped just slightly, startled out of his thoughts. He looked at Hutch, who smiled that soft smile again, making him feel like all his bones just turned to rubber. Starsky smiled back and covered Hutch's hand on his thigh, with his own hand. He hoped he could trust his voice.

   "So you wanna dance, schweetheart," he said quietly, wiggling his eyebrows.

   Starsky's dark blue eyes had caught the light of the turning ball hung over the dance floor, and they were sparkling like stars. Hutch's eyes were bright too.

   "That depends."

   "On what?" Starsky asked in a surprised tone. His smile was gone, and he looked a little disappointed. "You said you wanted to earlier."

   "Promise you won't dip me?"

   Starsky relaxed again and snorted a little laugh. "What? Ya didn't like it the first time?"

   "Well, it caught me a little off-guard, but I didn't say I didn't like it . . . exactly."

   "So you did like it then," Starsky pushed.

   "I didn't hate it." Hutch admitted and paused a second looking away from Starsky to the people dancing, his hand was still on Starsky's leg. "Didn't go anywhere with it though," he mumbled.

   "What?"

   "After you dipped me, while you were still holding me . . . like that . . . I was . . . Well, like I said, you caught me off-guard, and I'm holding on to you, and you're the only thing keeping me from falling on the floor, and it just felt so . . . I don't know. I guess I could say unnerving because I did wonder, just for a second, if you'd drop me or something, just to be funny. My stomach felt . . . funny, but I don't think I was afraid of falling."

   Hutch was still looking out into the bar.

   Starsky was studying his partner’s face intently, but he didn't say anything. He could almost hear his own heart beating against his ribs.

   After a pause, Hutch continued. "But you had this look on your face I'd never seen before. At least, not when you were looking at me." Hutch's voice was getting husky. "I thought you were gonna kiss me."

   "I almost did."

   "I think I wanted you to."

   "Yeah?"

   Hutch turned back to face him then, and repeated softly, "Yeah."

   Starsky didn't say anything as their eyes met.

   "Why didn't you?"

   "I dunno," Starsky admitted. "I don't really know what made me do it in the first place. Maybe got caught up in the Ramon act a little too much. Then after I did it, I was myself again, and I really wanted to kiss you, but ya had some kind of a scared look on your face, and I just chickened out."

   The whole incident had lasted only a few minutes, but they both remembered it vividly. Obviously, it'd been sort of defining moment.

   They never really talked about it after that.

   We realized it even then, Hutch thought, but didn't do anything about it. What took us so long? He wondered.

   "I guess we were both just scared of what could happen," Starsky observed, almost as though he had heard Hutch's unspoken question.

   "It would've been a big risk," Hutch agreed. Take a chance on losing the most important person in your life, if he didn't feel the same way or if it didn't work out. It just wasn't an option. Some things are more important than others. But now they didn’t have to choose – they had both.

   Starsky finally broke the silence as he slid off the stool to stand close to his still-seated partner. "C'mon, partner, let's dance," he said with his hand on Hutch's arm.

   Hutch smiled and allowed his friend to lead him to the dance floor.

~~~~~~~~~~

   They spent the next few hours alternating dancing for awhile, then drinking a little beer, and then dancing again. During one break in the action, Starsky had ordered a disgusting looking cheeseburger with the works, and Hutch had nabbed some of his fries.

   The dancing was wonderful. It felt a little awkward at first, but they'd quickly fallen naturally into sync.

   Hutch didn't consider himself a very good dancer. Somehow his long arms and legs didn't seem to go where they were supposed to, and he usually just felt clumsy. But with the right partner, he sometimes danced pretty well. Kathy, the stewardess he and Starsky had both dated casually for awhile, around the time Diana Harmon showed up, was a terrific dancer. He'd always felt pretty good dancing with her.

   But with Starsky it was even better. They were used to moving in step with each other. Working together without a word was often vital. Dancing with Starsky almost made him feel graceful. It was hard to say who was leading, they were just moving together.

   The dark red of Starsky’s shirt made a striking contrast, pressed up against Hutch’s white one. Hutch’s sort of glowed in the dark as they danced. Hutch realized all of sudden that they were dancing to the same Eagles song that had been on the radio that afternoon.

   C’mon baby, don’t say maybe.
   I’ve gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.
   We may lose and we may win,
   But we will never be here again,
   So open up, I’m climbin’ in.
   So Take it Easy.   

   The beer, the music, the atmosphere, and their close physical proximity to each other were an intoxicating and arousing combination. Hutch had been in a semi-hard state for most of the evening. It wasn’t really an uncomfortable feeling. In the past few months, Hutch had become pretty good at squelching or ignoring this "problem" when it happened. So now, even though it wasn't a problem anymore, there wasn't an edge or an urgency about his desire. It was just sort of a warm, expectant feeling.

   He wondered if his partner was okay though. Those jeans were awfully tight.

   "Hey, Hutch," Starsky's voice was husky in his ear, interrupting his thoughts.

   "Yeah?" Hutch moved back a little so he could look at him, but they continued moving slowly to the music.

   "Let's get outta here, huh?"

~~~~~~~~~~

   The lights were out, but the moonlight, reflected from the ocean, was bright in the room.

   Hutch was stretched out on the bed, laying on his back, one hand in Starsky's hair, the other roaming exploringly down his arm. Starsky's leg was wrapped around his thigh and he was laying mostly on top of his partner, admiring how the moonlight made Hutch's hair shine like spun gold.

   Clothes were strewn here and there from the door of the little beach cottage through the living room and into the bedroom . . .

   Starsky had unlocked the door when they got back to the house and then stepped back, extending his arm in a chivalrous gesture, to let Hutch go in first. Starsky moved up behind him, took his arm, and gently turned Hutch toward him. Then he ceremoniously dipped him just as he had a few years ago.

   Hutch, of course, was not expecting it, but he also wasn't complaining. Well, he didn't really have a chance to complain, because Starsky lips were quickly pressed firmly against his. Hutch just held on and enjoyed the ride.

   They'd undressed each other on the way to the bedroom, kissing and touching and loving each other on the way. Hutch slowly sat on the bed, pulling Starsky down and on top of him. Hands and lips still explored each other. Hutch's fingers were massaging Starsky's tight ass. Starsky's were kneading Hutch's shoulders and moving down his arms as well, and their lips were locked together.

   "Hutch . . ." Starsky breathed the name almost reverently.

   The well-matched bodies lay tight against each other, dark on light, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Their lips seemed to need each other, and they were kissing again. Starsky was moving his hips in a rhythmic motion, pressing their hard, but happy cocks even more closely together, rubbing them against each other.

   "Starsk," Hutch groaned. He was helpless to move very much, but his fingers were still squeezing Starsky's butt and pushing it up against himself in that same pumping motion.

   It didn't take long – they were both very ready. Starsky came first, making wonderful noises as he melted against his partner. Hutch came just seconds after, moaning and repeating his partner's name over and over, "Starsk . . ." His hands relaxed on the firm cheeks and then rubbed gently upward and pressed Starsky closer in a tight embrace.

   Neither had the energy or desire to move for a long time . . .

   But now the moonlight was dancing in Hutch's hair, and Starsky couldn't stop watching it with wonder. The same moonlight was sparkling in Starsky's eyes and holding Hutch captive. They couldn't stop touching each other, exploring every inch of familiar yet new territory.

   "That was beautiful, Starsk."

   "Yeah."

   "I never came like that before."

   Starsky smiled a little. "Pressed up against another guy, you mean?"

   "You know what I mean, Gordo," Hutch said, with a world of affection in his voice.

   "Yeah, I know what ya mean."

   Hutch was still watching the light dancing in Starsky's eyes, but his own eyelids were becoming very heavy.

   "I love you, Starsk" Hutch whispered.

   Starsky reluctantly stopped wondering over Hutch's hair and looked into the barely open sky blue eyes instead. "Yeah, I know."

   Hutch was nearly asleep. Starsky pushed a stray piece of spun gold off his forehead and kissed him there tenderly. "I love you too, Babe," he whispered back. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep too, with his arm draped over his partner. Moonlight reflected from the ocean was shining in on the two of them.

~~~~~~~~~

   Well, I’ve been runnin’ down the road
   Tryin’ to loosen my load
   Got a world of trouble on my mind.
   Lookin’ for a lover who won’t blow my cover,
   Sooo hard to find.
   Take it Easy. Take it Easy.
   Don’t let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy.
   C’mon baby, don’t say maybe.
   I’ve gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.
   Oh, we gotta Take it Easy.
   We oughta Take it Easy.

THE END