Spoilers: Post-"Sweet Revenge", set several weeks after "Something So Right." Second in this series, which I'm calling "Negotiations and Love Songs" - I expect it to go four or five stories altogether. Or, that's the plan, anyway. Best-laid plans, and all. I planned one series to end after the third story and eventually ended it only after a year and a half and twenty-one stories had passed. . .

Reggie

   Huggy's voice carried clear across the length of the bar. "Why, if it isn't Detective Hutchinson," he said. "And where, oh where is your better half on this fine evening?"

   Hutch eyed him warily, and drew himself up, with as much dignity as he could muster, to his full height. "I brought all of my halves in with me, Huggy," he said, slurring only half of the words. "Get me a beer, would you?"

   "I do so only against my better judgment," Huggy replied, as he poured the beer and gave it to Hutch. "But considering you are one of my more regular customers - and I use the term loosely - I will oblige you." He wiped down the bar and leaned over close to Hutch. "Drinking alone?"

   "Me 'n some of the guys went out after work," Hutch said. "You know these young guys, though; they can't keep up."

   "And your partner?"

   Hutch frowned. "He went home a couple hours ago."

   "You know of whom I am speaking," Huggy said, patiently. When Hutch gave him a confused look, Huggy spelled it out. "I'm sure you remember the blue-eyed, curly-haired white dude you spend nearly all your time with? Starsky, I believe, is his name."

   "Oh, him," Hutch said, then snorted. "It's a school night."

   "Ah, yes, I almost forgot, tomorrow's the big day. I trust you'll do me the favor of delivering this token to your partner, right?" Huggy slid a small wrapped package over to Hutch. "I would have given it to him in person, but the opportunity didn't present itself."

   "What is it?" Hutch asked, lifting it up.

   "Do you see your name on that card? No. It's a good luck present for Starsky on his first day of school, so leave it alone."

   Hutch saluted him drunkenly, and pocketed the present. He then turned around and surveyed the almost-empty bar. There was only one other customer at a table, and Anna, a new waitress, was filing her nails at the other end of the bar. "Quiet night?"

   "Au contraire. The night itself was busy, but if you will consult your watch, you'll realize that it is now morning, and all the normal people have gone home to bed."

   "It can't be."

   "But it is," Huggy said. "It happens every day at just about this time."

   Startled, Hutch took out his watch and blearily looked at it. "It's almost one o'clock," he said. "I'll be damned."

   "Undoubtedly," Huggy agreed. "And seeing as I am about to close the place down, can I call you a cab before I throw you out?"

   Hutch shook his head. "Not necessary," he said, taking out the contents of his pocket in search of his wallet.

   Huggy promptly relieved him of the wallet and a set of familiar car keys. "Very necessary," he said. "Starsky would never forgive me if anything happened to his car."

   Hutch just grimaced at him. "So I can't leave it here," he said, trying unsuccessfully to swipe the keys away.

   "I have the ideal solution," Huggy said, "I will drive you and the car to Starsky's, and you will pay for my cab ride home." He retrieved several bills from the wallet and handed it back, but kept the car keys. "Anna, baby, will you close up tonight?"

   "What about Dean Martin over there?" she asked, nodding at the only other customer, who was nearly asleep in his beer.

   "Call him a cab. I'll take care of this drunk, and you can take care of the doors. And you can have tomorrow night off for your trouble."

   She perked up at that. "It's a deal, boss."

   Huggy walked around the bar and put an arm around Hutch, helping him to his feet. "Come on, Hutch. Time for all the big, bad police detectives to be in bed." He groaned under the weight. "I'm going to have to ask Starsky how he manages to haul your sorry behind around by himself," he muttered under his breath.

   Hutch wasn't paying attention. "What?"

   "Nothing, nothing."

   "Huggy?"

   "Yes?"

   "You're a good friend, you know that?"

   Huggy rolled his eyes. "Oh, I know."

   "You may be my best friend in the whole world." He planted a wet, sloppy kiss on Huggy's cheek, causing them both to sway wildly. "I love you."

   "Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, Hutch," Huggy said, trying to get them through the door. He was glad to see that the Torino was parked right out front, and seemed to be in one piece. "Is that the reason for this uncharacteristic mid-week spree? You had a fight with Starsky?"

   "Oh, he's not my friend," Hutch said, solemnly. "He's my partner." He frowned. "No, wait, he isn't that, either. What is he again?"

   "If you don't know, I'm sure I can't tell you," Huggy said. "Better wait and ask him, when you get home." He managed to get the door open and deposited Hutch in the passenger seat, where he slid liquidly in.

   "That's a good idea," Hutch said, "I'll do that." He yawned broadly, slumped over in the seat, and promptly fell asleep.

   "Wonderful," Huggy said.

********

   Yesterday it was my birthday
   I hung one more year on the line
   I should be depressed
   My life's a mess
   But I'm having a good time
   I've been loving and loving and loving
   I'm exhausted from loving so well
   I should go to bed
   But a voice in my head
   Says "Ah, what the hell"

********

   Starsky yawned as he opened the door. "Yeah, I'm comin', I'm comin'," he said, and caught Hutch just before he hit the floor. "What the - ?"

   "He's all yours," Huggy informed him, and tossed over the keys to the Torino, which Starsky caught in his free hand. "Might I suggest you consider getting your friend here a leash?"

   "I'll keep that suggestion in mind," Starsky chuckled.

   "Well, I wish I could say it was my pleasure, but I promised my dear old grandma that I'd give up lying this year for Lent," Huggy said. "You want some help getting him into bed?"

   "Nah, I can take it from here."

   "Suit yourself." Huggy bent over to better facilitate his words to Hutch. "Good-night, Hutch."

   "'Night," Hutch said, then giggled. "D'you know you're upside down?"

   "I was not aware of that, no," Huggy said, and shook his head at Starsky, saying, "Have fun," to him before he left.

   "Thanks, Hug," Starsky said, and kicked the door closed. "Upsy-daisy, big boy. On your feet."

   "'M on my feet," Hutch giggled. He was nearly doubled over on the floor, his head almost touching the carpet, but he was indeed on his feet.

   "Get technical on me, why don't you?" Starsky grumbled. "Come on, blondie, give me some help, here."

   Hutch's version of 'help' consisted of grabbing on to Starsky's robe, pulling it halfway off in the attempt to straighten himself up. When gravity overcame them and they both slid to the floor, he started to giggle again.

   "Hutch!" Starsky complained, but he couldn't stay angry as Hutch raised mirthful red-rimmed eyes at him. "Oh, come on," he pleaded, trying not to laugh himself. "I've got to get some sleep so I can go to class tomorrow. You don't want me to get in trouble for skippin' my first day."

   "Thought you were asleep already," Hutch yawned.

   "I was. Not for long enough, though. Unless you help, I'm leavin' you here all night," he threatened.

   "No, you won't," Hutch said, and grabbed him around the waist, resting his head on Starsky's lap. "'S comfortable here."

   "No, you don't. Come on." With great difficulty, Starsky managed to get to his feet, and Hutch nearly to his, and then dragged him to the bed. He was panting with exhaustion by the time he got there, but he finally managed it, pushing Hutch over onto his back, where he bounced a couple of times. He then stripped Hutch of his holster, his shoes, and his jeans, before dropping his own robe and climbing back into bed. "Go to sleep," he said, and turned over on his side, facing the wall.

   Starsky was nearly asleep himself when he felt a pair of hands steal around his stomach. They were followed in quick succession by a chest pressed up against his back, and a mouth that latched onto his neck. "Oh, babe," Starsky groaned.

   Unfortunately, Hutch took that as encouragement, which it was not intended to be. He sucked harder on Starsky's neck, and started to pinch one of his nipples.

   With no small amount of difficulty, Starsky managed to turn around in the strong embrace.

   "Hi," Hutch grinned at him, moving in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

   Starsky suffered the kiss, but pushed him away firmly. "I thought we agreed we weren't gonna do this sort of thing for the first time when one of us was drinking, remember?"

   Hutch paused in mid-kiss, his lips still pursed. "How'd you know I was drinking?" he asked, finally.

   Starsky laughed out loud, but recovered himself and said, with a straight face and only the barest twinkle in his eye, "Just call it the result of years of practice in deductive reasoning," he said. "Besides that, you're stinkin'."

   "Am not."

   "Oh, but you are, babe. I could get out the dictionary and under the word 'drunk' would be a big ole picture of your pretty mug." He kissed Hutch on the nose. "Now, go to sleep. I gotta feelin' you wouldn't be any good to me in this condition, anyway."

   "Would, too," Hutch protested, but his eyes were closed and Starsky could tell he was nearly asleep.

   "Yeah," Starsky said, and closed his eyes with a yawn. "Sure you would."

********

   Paranoia strikes deep in the heartland
   But I think it's all overdone
   Exaggerating this, exaggerating that
   They don't have no fun
   I don't believe what I read in the papers
   They're just out to capture my dime
   I ain't worrying and I ain't scurrying
   I'm having a good time

********

   The world was a painful place when Hutch opened his eyes the next morning - or, rather, several hours later that same morning. He groaned as the sunlight hit him, burying his enormous, violently throbbing head under a pillow.

   "Good morning," Starsky's voice called out gaily. Hutch couldn't decide if he was always this chipper - and loud - in the morning, or if it was a special 'treat' just for him. "Coffee?"

   "Only if you promise to drown me in it."

   "Come on, get up," Starsky laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was clad in a damp towel and holding a cup of coffee. "You've got to go to work - unless you want me to call Dobey and tell him you're sick."

   "No, no," Hutch said. "Just give me a minute."

   "That's about all you have, babe," Starsky said. "It's almost eight."

   "Damn," Hutch groaned, and cautiously removed the pillow, taking the coffee cup out of Starsky's hand as he did so. He only managed a mouthful before hastily thrusting the cup back at Starsky and making a quick dash for the bathroom.

   He heaved everything he'd eaten in the past six months, then gargled with mouthwash three times. Only then did he feel moderately human enough to attempt to leave the room.

   Starsky was standing outside with a glass of tomato juice and two aspirin.

   "I'll deny it if you repeat this to anyone," Hutch said, taking the juice and the pills from him, "but you are a god."

   "That's what I keep tellin' ya," Starsky laughed. "You sure you're okay to go to work?"

   "I think everyone's going to look just the same as me," Hutch said. "We all over-indulged, just a little."

   "Including the Cap'n?"

   "Especially him. I seem to remember something about a certain song on the jukebox and our fearless leader developing Disco Fever."

   Starsky snorted. "Everything happens after I leave."

   Hutch looked stricken by the words. "I called you. You could have come with us - "

   Starsky shrugged. "Wouldn't have been the same. Besides, I've got to be in school in less than an hour, and I would not want to start my first day feelin' the way you look."

   "No, you wouldn't." Hutch grabbed him and nuzzled his neck. "Good morning."

   "You always this frisky when we can't do anything about it?" Hutch frowned at him, and Starsky grinned even more broadly. "Don't tell me you don't remember last night, Romeo."

   Hutch groaned. "What did I do?"

   "All night? That you'll have to ask the Cap'n - and Huggy. God only knows what you did to the unsuspecting patrons of The Pits. Here? You made a couple of passes, but I managed to evade your ample charms."

   "I'm sorry, Starsk."

   "Don't worry about it. It was kind of sweet." Starsky dropped his towel and dug through the dresser for clean socks and underwear; Hutch sat back down on the bed and watched him get dressed. Over the past few weeks since he'd moved in, it had become easier and easier to be loose and comfortable like this, even though they'd yet to make the 'big step', so to speak, past necking and just sleeping together to what Starsky referred to as 'really sleepin' together.' They were still easing into the idea of being in love, as opposed to just loving each other, and neither wanted - or felt a real need - to rush it. "You didn't tell me about the party. Whose bright idea was it to go out on a Tuesday night, anyway?"

   "Thomas's mother," Hutch said. "That's when she decided to give birth to him."

   "Oh, I didn't know it was a birthday party."

   "Yeah. It was just supposed to be one drink, and then - " Hutch shrugged, as if at a loss as to explain how things had gotten out of hand from there. "I told you about him, right?"

   "Yeah, I think so. He's the - what did you call him again? The prodigy?"

   "Prodigal," Hutch corrected him. "The by-the-book, wet-behind-the-ears, brand new baby boy in Homicide. Two weeks on the job. I just didn't realize how brand new he was until last night."

   "Whaddya mean?"

   "Starsk, he turned twenty-four yesterday."

   That made Starsky turn around with a whistle, still only half dressed. "That's young," he said, finally.

   "He's a child. I've owned cars older than he is."

   "I can vouch for that," Starsky said with a laugh, and resumed getting dressed. "So, was that the reason for the 'celebration' you had last night?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "I can't remember the last time you even went out for a drink with any of the guys from work, Hutch. It was way before I got shot. And Dobey, too - it's practically unheard of, these days."

   Hutch shrugged. "It isn't the same."

   "Things change," Starsky said. "You know that. Hell, we both know that, after this last year." He sat down on the bed. "To tell you the truth, I was kinda glad that you went. I don't want this to be your whole world, you know? I mean, these guys are the ones who keep you safe, an' it's better when the relationship is more than just working hours all the time."

   Hutch traced one of the scars on his still-bare chest, and brushed his lips over it. The 'holy trinity', as Starsky jokingly referred to the collection of scars he'd accumulated, thanks to Gunther, although they were only the most recent in a long career.

   "Oh, babe," Starsky whimpered. "You keep doin' that, and I'll flunk out before I ever get started."

   "No," Hutch said, pushing Starsky away. "Get dressed. You're not flunking because of me."

   "Yeah," Starsky groaned. "I think I can probably manage to do it on my own."

   "Stop it." Hutch grabbed towels and headed for the bathroom, then came back out. "I almost forgot. Huggy sent you a present last night. What did I do with it?"

   "A present?" Starsky perked up. "What is it?"

   "He wouldn't tell me," Hutch said. "If I can find it, then we'll both know." He found the slightly crumpled package in his jacket pocket. "Here."

   Starsky wasted no time ripping away the wrapping paper, and then started to laugh. "Cool!" He held up the present for Hutch to see.

   "What is it?"

   "It's a pencil case, dummy. A Superman pencil case." Starsky's face suddenly darkened. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

   Hutch raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "It's just a coincidence, I'm sure."

   "Yeah, well - " He brightened up. "I forgot to get one of these! This is great."

   Hutch laughed at his renewed enthusiasm. "Now, how can you possibly flunk out when you're carrying a Superman pencil case?"

   "It just don't seem possible," Starsky agreed. "You need a ride in to work?"

   "Nah. Thomas's driving this morning - and every morning, until my new transmission is installed. He's supposed to pick me up."

   Starsky's mouth dropped open. "He's your new partner?"

   Hutch nodded his head. "Yeah. Apparently Dobey thought it was a good idea to team up the fossil and the fetus."

   "You ain't a fossil, Hutch."

   "With you gone, and Ramsey retired, I'm the oldest person in the department, except for the Captain. Every time I see Thomas's face, I feel like his grandfather. I should be giving him hard candy and wiping the snot away from his nose, not taking him out on murder cases."

   Starsky chuckled. "It is a good idea to pair you two up. Everything I taught you, you can teach him."

   "He got carded at the bar last night."

   "So did you, the first time we went out for a drink after work," Starsky reminded him. "You got carded practically up until the time you decided to grow that soup-strainer you call a mustache." He nodded at their twin reflections in the mirror over the dresser. "Look at the two of us - you've got a partner young enough to be - "

   "Watch it, Starsky," Hutch growled.

   "Your younger brother," Starsky soothed. "Unless you started procreatin' real young. An' I'm starting college today with a bunch of eighteen-year-old kids who are young enough to call me dad." He laughed. "Who the hell are we tryin' to kid?"

   Hutch had to laugh, as well. "Beats me." A horn sounded outside, and he jumped up. "Damn! I haven't even had a shower yet. Trust him to be early today."

   "I'll tell him to come in and have some coffee. He probably needs it, even if it don't show on the baby-face." Starsky gathered up the books and supplies he'd gotten together last night - with the new addition of Huggy's present - and said, "Wish me luck."

   "You don't need it," Hutch said. You've got brains and guts. That's all you need to do anything you put your mind to."

   Starsky's smile was pure sunshine. "Aw, Hutch," he said, unable to say more, so he just hugged him, books and all. "Well, I guess I'm ready to go. I'll see you tonight." He crossed over to the door.

   "Uh, Starsk?"

   "Yeah?"

   "There might be one other thing that you need, to go along with the brains and the guts."

   "What's that?"

   Hutch pointed. "Shoes."

   Starsky looked down at his stockinged feet. "Oh, yeah," he said, sheepishly, and Hutch laughed all the way into the bathroom. Starsky was still tying up his sneakers when the car's horn blasted again. "Kids," he muttered, headed out the door. "Okay, okay, we heard ya already - "

********

   Maybe I'm laughing my way to disaster
   Maybe my race has been run
   Maybe I'm blind to the fate of mankind
   But what can be done
   So god bless the goods we was given
   And god bless the U. S. of A.
   And god bless the standard of livin'
   Let's keep it that way
   And we'll all have a good time

THE END

The sequel to this story is Hearts and Bones