Disclaimers: This story was written for entertainment purposes only, and is not meant to infringe on any rights held by any holders of rights to Starsky & Hutch. The characters, of course, are not mine.

Summary: This is a tag to the tag from Little Girl Lost. After the guys left Kiko's, they dropped by Starsky's Aunt Rosie's and Uncle Al's. Starsky's still a little miffed about his Christmas present, and Hutch is a little moody.

Comments about this story can be sent to: mariodee94@yahoo.com

The Christmas Tree

By

Marlene S

   "So, what's going on with you two?" Starsky's aunt asked as she took the last pan of cookies out of the oven. She was all decked out in red sweater with green Christmas trees and white snowmen on it.

   Starsky looked startled for a minute, but hid it quickly. "Nothin'," he managed around a mouthful of cookie, as he reached for another one, warm from the oven.

   Aunt Rosie gently smacked his hand, "Save room for your dinner."

   "Plenty of room," Starsky said, grinning and patting his stomach.

   "That's for sure," she said poking a finger in his side.

   "Hey," he said with a pretend expression of outrage.

   "And don't tell me 'Nothin', Davey," she added, touching his arm so he had to look her in the eye. "I know you well enough after all these years to know when somethin's bothering you. You haven't said more than two words to him since you got here."

   Starsky knew better than to argue with her when she had that look in her eye. Instead, he just looked away and didn't say anything.

   "Besides the two of you are usually practically joined at the hip and today you seem more like opposite ends of a magnet. You're avoiding him, hiding out in here with me while he's out there with your uncle and the rest of the gang."

   "I'm in here because this is where the food is," Starsky interrupted, trying to make another joke.

   She scowled at him and continued. "Plus, he keeps lookin' at you like . . . he feels guilty or . . . well, I'm not sure, but there's definitely something going on. What is it?"

   "It's no big deal really." Starsky finally admitted. "We'll work it out."

   "I'm sure that's true, but it might help to talk about it."

   Starsky looked uneasy as he put down the cookie and paced to the door, pretending to look out at the back yard.

   "What did he do, Davey?"

   Starsky smiled a little at his aunt's persistence. She had always been like that. When he was a teen-ager and in trouble more often than not, she would just keep pushing until she got answers. Truthful answers. She always knew when he was lying or just evading the issue. She never gave up until she found out what she needed to know so she could help him solve his problem.

   He should know by now that resistance was useless.

   "He got me a tree for Christmas." The words sounded strange when he said them out loud.

   "A tree?"

   "Yeah," Starsky said, turning to face her again. "According to the certificate, a tree has been planted in my name in West Side Park," he quoted. "Near the horseshoe pits," he added sarcastically.

   "Oh, I see," Aunt Rosie said. The puzzled look disappeared from her face, and she returned her attention to putting the cookies on a large tray. There were cookies on the tray already, so you wouldn't know that Santa's smiling face was underneath them.

   The kitchen was silent for a few minutes. Finally, Starsky said, "He got me a tree, do you believe that?"

   "Yes, I heard you the first time. Doesn't seem like grounds for the silent treatment to me."

   Starsky just looked at her, exasperated. "You don't think there's anything wrong with that?"

   "Sounds like a nice gift to me."

   "A nice gift?" Starsky shook his head and turned back to stare out the back door again. "You don't get it," he mumbled.

   "Then explain it to me."

   "He didn't do it 'cause it was a nice gift."

   "Why did he do it then? You think he meant it as some kind of gag gift?"

   "No, . . . I don't know . . ." Starsky turned around again. "You gotta know, Hutch. Said he had to keep 'his principles', not give in to the 'euphoric sentamentalism' of the season, as he puts it."

   Aunt Rosie smiled as she put the cookie sheet in the sink and began retrieving the rest of the food from the refrigerator. "Euphoric sentamentalism?" That sounds like Hutch, she thought.

   "Yeah, that's his new expression for what he calls people's fake emotions at Christmas time. He might think it's fake, but I don't. What's wrong with a little Christmas spirit? What's wrong with being nice to other people for a change? What's wrong with a little Christmas music? And buyin' stuff for people ya care about?"

   "Nothing," she agreed. She had finished with the food and was eyeing the table to see if she'd forgotten anything. "Nothing at all."

   Satisfied with the table, Aunt Rosie turned to open the door to the living room, and called out to whomever was interested, "Dinner's ready."

   "He just did it to prove a point," Starsky added, popping an olive into his mouth.

   "You're sure of that?" Aunt Rose asked, as she turned around to face her nephew.

   Starsky started to answer her, but before he could speak she added. "Davey, did you even see the tree yet?"

   He didn't have time to respond before the crowd descended on the food.

~~~~~~~~~~

   Starsky took his overflowing plate to the living room and purposefully headed directly toward the sofa where Hutch was sitting. There were other places to sit: several folding chairs, two recliners, even the opposite end of the sofa, but Starsky sat down right next to his partner. In fact, his leg was touching Hutch's.

   Hutch looked startled for a minute, but then quickly became engrossed in the exciting Head and Shoulders commercial on TV. He didn't move away or anything though.

   "Aren't ya gonna get somethin' to eat?"

   Hutch turned toward him a little too quickly and the stutter was barely noticeable, but Starsky caught it. "I I. . . uh, I'm not very hungry really. Maybe in a little while."

   "Ya didn't eat at Kiko's either," Starsky pointed out.

   Hutch just looked back at the TV and shrugged.

   "It's really good," Starsky muttered around a mouthful of turkey and dressing.

   "Yeah, it smells good."

   "Nothin' better than Christmas dinner at Aunt Rosie's."

   "Yeah," Hutch said, a bit wistfully.

   Starsky glanced at his friend, but Hutch's expression was unreadable at the moment.

   Uncle Al joined them in the living room then and the conversation turned to other things.

~~~~~~~~~~

   The trip from Kiko's to Aunt Rosie's had been a completely silent one, and the trip home was almost as bad. Starsky tried a couple times to start a conversation, and Hutch made appropriate responses, but chit-chat was difficult when there were bigger things on both their minds.

   Finally, Starsky turned on the radio and "Jingle Bells" broke the silence. He didn't sing along though or even hum. No sense in startin' somethin' else, he thought.

   Actually, for a change, Hutch didn't look like he minded the Christmas music.

   When the Torino finally pulled up in front of Venice Place, Hutch hesitated before opening the door. "Uh, Starsk," he began while looking down at his hand on the door handle. His voice was quiet, hesitant. "Can ya come up for a minute? I've got some eggnog."

   That little piece of information was a bit of a surprise. What the hell is Hutch doin' with eggnog?

   "I, uh," Starsky hated to do this, but he had to. "I got somethin' I gotta do, Hutch." Damn, that sounds like a blow-off. "Uh, I mean, how 'bout if I come back in a little while."

   Hutch started to glance up, but his eyes didn't quite meet Starsky's. "Yeah, sure," he said opening the door. "See ya later." It was obvious he didn't really think he'd be seeing Starsky later.

   The door was shut before Starsky could say anything else. He shrugged a little and hesitated a minute, but then he put the Torino back in drive and headed toward West Side Park.

   Hutch climbed the steps more slowly than usual and opened the door to the dark, empty apartment. He dropped his jacket on the chair, and touched the little Christmas tree gently as he walked by. Guess I should turn the lights on, he thought.

   But he didn't. Instead, he headed for the kitchen.

   He opened the refrigerator door and stood there, staring inside. He looked at the eggnog for a minute and sighed. Then he started to grab a beer, but decided against that too. He finally closed the door without getting anything. His stomach growled as if to remind him that he hadn't eaten very much. The only reason he'd eaten at all was because Starsky's aunt had fixed him a plate, put it in front of him, and stated in no uncertain terms that it would be extremely impolite of him not to eat. He didn't feel much like eating though – then or now.

   He went to the greenhouse, sat on the little couch by the window, and laid back looking out at the stars, pretty much like he had on a previous night.

   He had never felt so helpless as he did that night, listening to Molly crying, those heartbreaking sobs. He had no idea what to do for her.

   He got up then and went into the bedroom and dug around in the bottom of the closet until he found what he was looking for. A box wrapped up in Santa Claus paper with a big red bow. It was the toy Starsky really wanted for Christmas – what he should've given him in the first place. He had bought it two months ago, wrapped it, and hid in the closet where Starsky'd never find it. That is, just in case he was snooping, and Starsky had been known to do that.

   Hutch puffed up the bow a little. Still a little flat, but it would do. Probably won't have time to see the wrapping before he tears into it. Hutch smiled affectionately at that thought. Then he frowned a little at the gift in his hand as he thought, Please don't grow up, Starsk. No matter how much I complain.

   He flipped the light switch in the bedroom on his way out, so it was dark again in the apartment except for the dim light over the stove in the kitchen.

   After finding an extension cord in a drawer in the kitchen, he went into the living room and plugged in the little tree Starsky had brought over. He placed the wrapped package under it and plopped into the armchair to stare at the tiny muti-colored lights.

~~~~~~~~~~

   "Hey, what are you doin' sittin' here it the dark?"

   Hutch jumped up, startled at the sound of Starsky's voice. "I didn't even hear you come in."

   "You were a million miles away," Starsky's expression was concerned.

   A million years maybe, Hutch thought, but out loud he said, "You came back?" with a pleased smile, putting a hand on his partner's arm as if to confirm his presence.

   "I said I would, didn't I?" Starsky reminded him softly.

   "Yeah."

   Their eyes met for a minute, clear affection in both pairs of blue eyes, silent understanding.

   Starsky was the first to look away. "Hey, where's the eggnog?" He asked, pulling a paper sack from inside his jacket. "I brought a little somethin' to spice it up." He wiggled his eyebrows at Hutch.

   "The fridge, Gordo, where do you think," Hutch answered with a smirk, but squeezed Starsky's arm a little to take the sting out of the words.

   Starsky smiled at him and headed to the kitchen. He found what he was lookin' for, and was back in no time with two glasses of spiked eggnog.

   "Here hold these," he said, handing both glasses to Hutch.

   Hutch held the glasses and watched his partner fiddle with the radio, passing up Rudolph and Frosty the Snowman and finally settling on a station playing I'll Be Home for Christmas.

   Starsky then retrieved one glass from Hutch and took a big swallow, immediately regretting it.

   "Whew, good stuff," he managed, after hitting himself on the chest to stop the coughing.

   Hutch just laughed and cautiously tasted his own drink. He made a face, but Starsky just shrugged and moved toward the tree in the living room.

   "You plugged the lights in," he noted as he plopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.

   "Yeah," Hutch said, following his friend. He sat back down in the armchair where he was sitting when Starsky came in.

   They were both quiet for a few minutes, while Hutch was trying to find a way to explain his Christmas gift, and Starsky was just looking at the tree.

   Finally, Hutch started, "Uh, Starsk, I just . . ."

   "I went to see the tree," Starsky interrupted.

   Hutch just stared at him. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out.

   After a minute, Starsky looked up at him and repeated, "I went to see the tree. The one that was 'planted in my name.' " As if he really needed to clarify which tree.

   "You did?" Hutch said after regaining his voice.

   Starsky looked away again. "Yeah, it was nice . . ."

   "It's a pretty tree, Starsk." Hutch's excited words came out too quickly, excitedly rambling. "It's just a little evergreen, but it'll get a lot bigger. They have it set up so you can put lights on it, if you want to and there's a plaque with . . . "

   ". . . with my name on it and everything." Starsky finished, grinning at Hutch's enthusiasm.

   "Yeah," Hutch breathed.

   Starsky's grin faded just a little and became a reflective smile instead. "You put lights on it," he said quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

   "How long do trees live, Hutch?"

   Hutch smiled, and felt the guilty weight lift off his shoulders at last. He gets it, he thought. He understands.

   "Just about forever, Starsk," he finally answered around the lump in his throat.

   Starsky thought the look on Hutch's face was worth a million bucks – no, scratch that – a million packages wrapped up with bows.

   He sat up. Speaking of packages, he had just noticed the one by the tree.

   "Who's this for?"

   Hutch smiled again, and shook his head. Didn't think it'd be so long before you'd notice that, Buddy, he thought. "It's for you."

   "You already gave me a present."

   "But that's the one you really wanted."

   Starsky picked up the box and shook it a little, but he already knew what was inside. The caboose for his train set. He set the package back down. "Not anymore," he said and looked over at Hutch. "I've already got what I wanted, Babe."

   All of a sudden, it very warm in the apartment and Hutch could almost hear the fire crackling and smell the cookies baking. Later, he'd make Starsky open the present anyway, but for now, he just smiled at his friend and was silently thankful for a long overdue "real Christmas."

   Starsky scooted over on the couch closer to Hutch's chair, so his knee was touching Hutch's. He raised his glass in a toast. "Merry Christmas, Partner," he said softly.

   Hutch raised his own glass to touch his partner's and echoed, "Merry Christmas, Starsk."

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams.
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams.    

THE END