Reggie

   The alley behind the bar was dark and deserted; Hutch cut both his headlights and engine just after he entered and coasted the car to an easy stop. After a moment, he stepped silently out of the car, listening for any unexpected movement around him. It was after hours, and it wasn't likely that anyone had seen him pull up, but you could never be sure when a dark alley might sprout unwelcome eyes. He was happy that the last tune-up of his car had turned out so well; the thing ran almost noiselessly now, when it had to.

   The back entrance of the bar was unlocked, as it had been when he'd checked it out earlier that afternoon. He knew the layout of the entire place from earlier visits, and the inside information served him well as he eased the door open and caught a glimmer of light from down the hallway. There were one or two voices talking, but they were too far away for him to hear what they said; he'd expected more people to be there, but it didn't really matter - it would probably work out better this way, allow him to get a better jump on the 'party.' He shut the door behind him without a noise and slipped his gun from its holster. Taking a deep breath, he crept down the hallway, towards the main room of the establishment.

   It was the expected set-up he'd been tipped off about: a single light shone on the table, where cards, chips, and empty beer bottles littered the surface. A jukebox played softly, helping further to muffle the sound of his approach. In the middle of the table lay the payoff: a pile of mingled green bills and silver, speaking of the game he'd 'interrupted.' There were five chairs around the table, two of them empty; two men, one black, one white with dark hair, sat talking, with their backs to Hutch. He paused in his movement, thinking of Dobey and Thomas' reactions when they found out he'd come here alone, then dismissed the thought and lowered his gun. The opportunity to get the jump on these guys was simply too great to pass up.

   "Freeze!" he yelled, as the men jumped in startled reaction in front of him. "Police!"

********

********

   "Jesus Christ!" yelled the dark-haired man, when he spotted Hutch. "What the hell is going on?"

   "Now, why don't we all just chill out, fellas?" the black man cut in, trying to diffuse the situation.

   Just at that moment, two other men came into the room from the kitchen, one reaching for his weapon, the other holding a plate of food; Hutch whirled to face them. It was a stand-off for only a second, until Hutch slowly lowered his gun, and started to laugh. "You should see the looks on your faces," he managed, in between snorts of laughter. "It's priceless."

   "Hutchinson," Dobey bellowed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

   "That's what I want to know," Starsky sputtered, lowering his hands and easing back down into his chair. "Besides tryin' to give me a heart attack."

   "Just doing my job," Hutch said, still doubled over and now panting with laughter. "I heard a rumour that there was a game going on here tonight, so I thought I'd come on in and bust up an obviously illegal gambling ring, Cap."

   "I could have shot you," Dobey roared.

   "Nah, you wouldn't have," Hutch said. "You're too careful about discharging your weapon. You didn't even draw it."

   "But I did," Mike Thomas muttered, re-holstering his gun.

   "With you, I would have ducked," Hutch said, pointing at his partner. "I didn't know you'd be here tonight. I thought you had a hot date with a redhead."

   "Ginger cut out on me - she had to go home and wash her hair," Mike said.

   "Yeah, yeah," Hutch said. "That's the third time this month, isn't it?"

   "Sounds like someone needs to start dating some bald women," Huggy said.

   The men all laughed at Mike's nonplused reaction to that suggestion. "Funny, Hug, very funny," he finally said.

   "You know bald women?" Starsky asked him.

   Huggy just shrugged. "I think under the circumstances, the next round will be on our funny friend, Detective Hutchinson. All in favour?" Four hands went up, and Huggy walked to the bar and poured the beers. The other men settled in for another hand of poker.

   "Thought you were working tonight," Hutch said, sitting down backwards in a chair and poking Starsky in the ribs.

   "I hit the jackpot on my last fare," Starsky said, sorting his cards. "Took this little old lady to the airport and helped her with her bags, and she tipped me fifty bucks on a five-dollar fare. So I cut out early for the night - it's a good thing, too. I'm up fifteen bucks on these bums. Where've you been?"

   "Talking to ADA Carson about my testimony for the Johnson case," Hutch said, taking off his jacket. "We had a working dinner, courtesy of the city."

   "How is Linda, anyway?" Mike asked his partner, slyly.

   "Who's Linda?" Starsky asked, frowning over his cards.

   "Linda Carson," Dobey supplied. "New young go-getter in the DA's office, fresh out of law school. Has a little bit of a crush on Hutch, here, wouldn't you say, Mike?"

   "Oh, more than a little crush, Captain," Mike agreed. "Ante up."

   The men all pitched in their money.

   "Is that the blonde you were talkin' about before?" Huggy asked Mike. "The 36-24-36?" He mimed an hourglass figure with his hands.

   "That's her," Mike said. "I'm in for five."

   Dobey put down his cards. "Too rich for my blood."

   "I'll go for five, and raise you five," Starsky said, trying to pointedly ignore the conversation between Mike and Huggy.

   Huggy whistled and put in his ten. "Gives you a whole new respect for the law, doesn't it?"

   "Oh, yeah."

   "Are you guys playing or yapping?" Starsky grumbled.

   Mike started to laugh. "Call. Three ladies."

   "Dammit," Huggy said, throwing down his cards. "Two pair's been my best hand all night."

   "And a flush for Mr. Lucky," Starsky crowed, scooping up the pot.

   "You ought to be careful over there, Starsky. You know what they say about being lucky at cards, don't you?" Huggy asked, winking at Mike.

   "Isn't that unlucky at love?" Mike added, innocently.

   "Okay, okay, will you two just quit the comedy routine and deal me in?" Hutch finally protested.

   "Just as soon as you show me some green, I would be more than happy to oblige," Huggy said, shuffling the cards as Hutch took out his wallet.

********

********

   They played a few more hands, and then Hutch started to fidget in his chair. He took up the cards that Mike dealt him, and then threw them down on the table. He studied Starsky's profile for a while, then said, casually, "Expense accounts aren't what they used to be - I'm still hungry. You got anything to eat in this place, Hug?"

   "Unless my staff has gotten even more larcenous than I know them to be, there's bound to be something in the kitchen," Huggy shrugged. "Help yourself. Just don't eat me out of house and bar."

   "Okay." Hutch stood up. "You hungry, Starsk?"

   "Nah." Everyone looked at him in surprise. "What?" Starsky said, defensively. "I'm not always hungry." Everyone looked away.

   "Anyone else? Captain?"

   "I could force down something," Dobey said.

   "Mike?"

   "Yeah, that'd be good, partner."

   "Hug?"

   "Bring me some of whatever Starsky isn't having," Huggy said.

   "You want to give me a hand in the kitchen?" Hutch asked Starsky.

   "I got a good hand," Starsky demurred. Hutch looked at him, expectantly. "What?" Hutch just continued to stand there, pointedly looking at him. "Okay, okay," Starsky said, putting down his cards. "I fold. Gotta give you guys a chance to win one hand tonight, I guess."

   The two of them walked into the kitchen. "What's the big - " Starsky said, before he was pinned against the wall by Hutch, who captured and devoured his mouth eagerly.

   "Mm," Hutch growled, when he let Starsky go.

   "And here I thought you were hungry for food."

   "I've been wanting to do that since I got here," Hutch said, stealing another kiss.

   "Well, why didn't you just say something?" Starsky asked him, wiping his mouth.

   "Oh, yeah," Hutch rolled his eyes. "'Excuse me, Captain, Mike, Hug, but I've got to take Starsky here into the kitchen, throw him down on the counter, and ravish him.' That'd go over real well."

   Starsky grinned. "I'd've liked it, and it's not like they don't already know about us, after all this time. I'm sure they have an idea what we do in the privacy of our home, and anywhere else we can get away with it."

   "I prefer not to think about what our friends think about our sex life, thanks." Hutch nuzzled Starsky's neck, but Starsky nimbly stepped away from him.

   "You're a prude, and they're definitely going to know what we're doin' if we take an hour in here and I come out with a hickey and rumpled clothes. What is there to eat, anyway? I'm hungry." He swatted away Hutch's wandering hands, that were currently trying to pull his shirt out of his jeans. "Come on, be good. We've got to get food, remember? Save dessert for later."

   "Promise?"

   "Yeah." Starsky went and opened the fridge. "Pickled eggs, pickled onions, pickled pig's feet? Ah, there's ham and roast beef in here. You see any bread anywhere?"

   "Uh-huh." Hutch opened up a loaf and rummaged around for knives while Starsky brought the cold cuts and condiments from the fridge. "Starsk, about Linda - "

   "'Linda,'" Starsky snorted. "Funny how, before tonight, she was always 'ADA Carson.' No mention of the 36-24-36, either - or even the fact that she was a she. Don't you find that funny?"

   "I just - didn't think it was important," Hutch said, weakly.

   "Uh-huh," Starsky nodded, cutting through a finished sandwich.

   "I mean, it wasn't like I was planning on bringing her home for dinner - "

   "Uh-unh."

   "Look, I thought you might get - " Hutch trailed off, shrugging.

   "What?" Starsky asked, with a grin. "Jealous?"

   "Well," Hutch paused. "Yeah."

   "Should I be?" Starsky asked, pointing the knife at him.

   "Well, she's asked me out, once or twice - "

   "You ever go out with her?" Starsky started to assemble another sandwich.

   Hutch was piling the food on plates. "No. All of our meetings have been strictly business."

   "You ever planning on going out with her?"

   "No, of course not."

   "So why," Starsky asked, slicing through the final sandwich, "would I be jealous?"

   "I dunno."

   "Uh-huh," Starsky said, knowingly.

   "What's that supposed to mean?"

   "Oh, I dunno. I just gotta idea maybe you wanted me to be jealous."

   "I - no! No way. Why would I want you to be jealous?" Hutch seemed honestly perplexed by Starsky's accusation.

   "I can't imagine." Starsky picked up one plate of food, and used his hip to push the kitchen door open. "Don't forget the pickles."

********

********

   "I trust you got it out of your system?" Huggy asked Hutch, when he and Starsky had brought the food out and sat down again.

   "What?"

   "Your need for physical contact of the private sort," Huggy said.

   Starsky gave Hutch a triumphant look. "I told you," he said, just as Hutch protested, "I don't know what you're talking about, Hug."

   Huggy rolled his eyes. "You've been looking at Starsky all night like you're Captain Dobey here and your friend is an all-you-can-eat buffet. I'm afraid to think of what you might have done to my pristine kitchen."

   "Hey," Dobey protested, around a mouthful of sandwich.

   "Do you doubt the veracity of my words?" Huggy asked him. "The phrasing could have been better, granted, but not the truth inherent within. You, Detective Hutchinson, have it bad."

   "It's true," Mike agreed. "You're the poster boy for domesticity around the station." He leaned over conspiratorially to Starsky and added, "You should see it when Linda Carson flirts with him at work. He gets all pink and flustered, and - "

   "Hey!" Hutch said, putting his hand over Mike's mouth. "Since when did this turn into 'pick on Hutch' night, anyway?"

   "Since some damn fool burst in here waving a gun around," Dobey said. "And as much as I'm enjoying this conversation, gentlemen, I've got to get home, before my better half calls out an APB on me."

   "It's been a pleasure taking your money, Cap," Starsky said, sunnily, making a neat pile of his winnings.

   "Yeah," Dobey agreed, gruffly. "We'll have to do it again, soon. Oh, and if Edith asks either of you," he added, to Hutch and Mike, "I only lost five bucks tonight."

   "Yes, Captain," Mike said. Hutch just nodded, knowingly. "She won't hear anything from me, Cap."

   "Keep that in mind." Dobey took his leave of the bar.

   "Well, I think I've had enough of subsidizing your college experience, Starsky," Huggy said, throwing in his cards. "What do you say we wrap this up and you guys get out of my bar?"

   "Fine with me, Hug," Mike said, cramming the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. He grabbed another and stuffed the rest of his cash into his pocket. "You driving tomorrow?" he asked Hutch.

   "Yeah. I'll pick you up at eight."

   "See you then." He, too, took his leave of the bar.

   "Looks like just you and me, buddy," Starsky said to Hutch.

   "You can't win any of my money."

   "Why not?"

   "What's mine is yours, remember? It would be redundant."

   "Oh, yeah," Starsky nodded. "And community property laws hold in California."

   "Please don't take this the wrong way, but will you two please get the hell out?" Huggy asked.

   "You want the rest of this food, Hug?"

   "Far be it for me to deprive you of your midnight snack, Starsky. Take it with you. It's not like I'll be able to sell this stuff. Who puts sauerkraut and pickled onions on a sandwich?"

   "It's a classic."

   "Fine, a classic, wonderful. Just take it and go."

   "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of us," Hutch said. "What do you think,

   Starsk?"

   "I think you're right, Hutch," Starsky agreed, pocketing his winnings and piling the food on to a plate to take with him. "What gives, Hug?"

   "Nothing gives. It's been a long day, I am tired, and I want to go to bed, okay?" Huggy shooed the men towards the back door.

   Just at that moment, the front door opened, and a long-legged redhead walked into the bar. "Huggy, baby? You here?"

   Starsky and Hutch looked at each other, then at Huggy, simultaneously mouthing 'Huggy baby?' at him. Huggy gave them both a grimace and a shove towards the door and turned his attention to the woman in the bar. Starsky, juggling the food, followed Hutch, who was holding the door, out the back.

   "No wonder he wanted to get rid of us," Starsky said, once they were settled in Hutch's car.

   "Yeah, and Mike, too."

   "Why Mike?"

   "I'm not entirely sure, but I'm almost certain that redhead that just walked in was Ginger."

   "Mike's Ginger?"

   "One and the same."

   Starsky's mouth fell open, and he hit Hutch on the arm.

   "Ow!" Hutch yelled. "What was that for?"

   "He's your partner! Didn't you tell him not to bring his women around The Pits?"

   "He's a kid," Hutch shrugged, starting the engine. "He'll learn, in time."

   "Well, one thing's for certain."

   "What's that?"

   "She washed her hair really nice."

   "Yeah," Hutch agreed, pulling out of the alley. "And maybe Mike should date more bald women."

********

********

   Hutch walked into the kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not going to eat all that tonight."

   "'Course not. Some of it's for lunch tomorrow." Starsky finished the sandwich he'd been eating and put the rest into the refrigerator. "You lock the back door?"

   "Uh-huh."

   "Let's go to bed, then."

   Starsky went into the bathroom, and Hutch wandered around the rest of the house, turning off lights. He was in bed when Starsky came in, stripped to his underwear, and crawled in the other side. He kissed Hutch for a long time.

   "Why would I want you to be jealous, anyway?"

   Starsky narrowed his eyes. "That's what you're thinking about after I kiss you like that? I must be losing my touch."

   "Uh-unh. I've been thinking about it since you said it," Hutch corrected him.

   "Well, stop. I'm hungry, now, and I want to have my way with you and still have enough time to get my beauty sleep." Starsky straddled Hutch's lap and leaned forward, kissing him again.

   "It just doesn't make sense," Hutch gasped, when Starsky moved from his mouth to his neck, nibbling. "I mean - "

   "Look," Starsky said, in a long-suffering voice, "all I meant was that maybe you wanted me to know that you're still attractive. To other people, I mean. It's been - what, almost two years since either one of us has been with anyone else? It's normal to wonder if you've still 'got it.'"

   "But I don't wonder," Hutch said, smugly, running his hands possessively up Starsky's back. "I know what I've got."

   "With me, you know. With other people?" Starsky shrugged. "It might not be so obvious what a stud you still are." He leaned in for another kiss. "Besides, it isn't like nobody's ever flirted with me since we've been together - "

   Hutch had him turned over on his back on the bed and pinned down before he could finish his sentence. "Who, exactly?"

   "Who what?"

   "Has been flirting with you?"

   Starsky grinned. "Oh, all sorts of people - at school, at work - "

   "Female people or male people?"

   Starsky shrugged. "I don't remember."

   "It better be female people," Hutch warned him. "I can compete with female people. I'm not fighting some eighteen-year-old pretty-boy college kid over you."

   "Afraid you'd get your ass kicked?"

   "I'd be too busy kicking your ass. If you'd rather have a boy than a man after all this time - "

   "No females, no boys, no other men. Just you, babe," Starsky promised, kissing Hutch on the nose. "You know, you're really cute when you're jealous."

   "Shut up."

   "I've been trying to shut up for twenty minutes, and shut you up, too, baby blue. You've got a nearly-naked, very willing man in your bed, and all you want to do with me is pick a fight." Starsky's eyes narrowed. "You're making me think I should have taken Miss Taylor up on her offer this afternoon to fly to Aruba with her and be her kept boy."

   "Miss Taylor?"

   Starsky nodded. "My fifty-dollar tipper. I tell you, she was smitten with me, Hutch."

   "Uh-huh. So why didn't you go?"

   "She was also eighty-two. But I bet even at that age she'd know what to do with me in this condition."

   "I know exactly what to do with you," Hutch retorted, and turned him over to demonstrate. Yanking Starsky's underwear down and off, he gave a sharp smack to one of the exposed buttocks.

   "Ouch! What's the big idea?"

   "That's for flirting with all those mysterious 'people'."

   "I didn't flirt with them," Starsky protested. "They flirted with me."

   "Oh, I see. Did that hurt?" Hutch grinned broadly. "Sorry."

   "And why don't I believe you, hmm?" Starsky attempted to wriggle out of Hutch's grasp, but found it impossible; one arm was twisted behind his back and he was pinned to the bed. He eventually gave up struggling and asked, "Could you possibly let me go?"

   "I don't think so. I like you like this - naked and at my mercy." Hutch bent his head and licked the red mark on Starsky's buttock. Starsky immediately started to wriggle again. "Still want me to let you go?"

   "You do, and you're sleeping on the couch for a week."

   "Might get a little crowded, but we've done it before."

   "Alone."

   "Ah. Well, in that case - " Hutch turned Starsky back over and kissed him. "I'm sorry." He slid a knee in between Starsky's thighs and started to rub his cock with it. "How can I make it up to you?"

   Starsky's eyes drifted closed, and his body moved rhythmically against Hutch's gentle rubbing. "Mmm. Give me a minute an' I'll think of somethin'."

   "Okay." Hutch stopped his knee's movements, and prepared to get out of the bed. "I'll just go get a sandwich - "

   Starsky, pushed to the edge, wrestled him onto his back and straddled him. "No more teasing, babe."

   "Out of the two of us, I'm the tease? I don't think so."

   "You'd be wrong. And shut up." Starsky kissed him, reaching between their tightly-pressed bodies to grasp Hutch's cock.

   "Ask anyone," Hutch managed to gasp, arching up against the contact of Starsky's hand.

   "Shut up," Starsky repeated again. He licked his palm and began to stroke Hutch, slowly.

   "Is - oh, god - moaning allowed?"

   "Only if you can't help it. I could give you something to put in your mouth if you don't think you can control yourself."

   "Promises, promises."

   "Only you, baby blue," Starsky sighed, "could make me so crazy I don't know whether to strangle you or fuck you into the mattress, you know that?"

   "Why not split the difference, and I'll fuck you into the mattress?" Hutch grinned.

   "Agh! That's it, I give up." Starsky fell on his back. "You win. I'm going to sleep."

   "Either you're losing your touch, or I'm getting better with age." Hutch once again resumed his intimate explorations of Starsky's body.

   "Or, I've finally figured out how to get what I really want," Starsky said, tucking his hands behind his head, prepared to watch the man he loved enough to strangle with his bare hands drive him completely out of his mind.

THE END

The sequel to this story is St. Judy's Comet