{"id":269,"date":"2017-06-21T05:04:25","date_gmt":"2017-06-21T05:04:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/?p=269"},"modified":"2017-06-21T05:04:25","modified_gmt":"2017-06-21T05:04:25","slug":"june-21st-settling-the-score-by-m-butterfly","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/?p=269","title":{"rendered":"June 21st- Settling the Score by m. butterfly"},"content":{"rendered":"

Thursday, March 2, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The goalie was a prick. Gorgeous, but still a prick.<\/span><\/p>\n

Okay. Maybe Dave Starsky was being a bit harsh. He\u2019d met Kenny What\u2019s-His-Name only a few hours ago, along with the rest of the team. But he\u2019d bet his left nut that the big blond barnacle was going to make it tough for him to get much one-on-one time with the target.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky squared his shoulders and approached the bench where the two men were chatting intimately\u2014something they\u2019d been doing all evening.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, fellas. Hate to interrupt, but I\u2019m supposed to work on Sam in\u2014\u201d Starsky checked his iPad. \u201c\u2014 well, right now, actually.\u201d He hoped he looked more apologetic than he felt. \u201cUh, you are<\/em> Sam, right?\u201d he asked the dark-haired nearly-naked man while doing his best to ignore the fair-haired nearly-naked one.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sam Miller, the Los Angeles Blades’ left winger\u2014and, more importantly, the only son of drug lord Jackson Miller\u2014arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. \u201cYou\u2019ve got a good memory.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Oh, if Sammy boy only knew…<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cBetter than mine, obviously, um\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDave.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRight. Dave.\u201d He gave Starsky a thorough once-over and appeared to approve of what was inside the tight white t-shirt and even tighter white jeans. \u201cDave, the hot new trainer. I\u2019ll try to remember that, Dave.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky accepted the compliment with a wolfish grin, and noticed that Kenny\u2019s pretty smile was in danger of sliding off his pretty face. \u201cSam, if you want to shower and change first, I can take, uh\u2014\u201d He consulted his iPad again. \u201c\u2014 Paul Martinez now, if he\u2019s available.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Why don\u2019t you do that, Dave?\u201d Although Kenny\u2019s demeanor was cool and composed, his blazing blue eyes gave him away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller patted his teammate\u2019s thigh. \u201cMy shoulder needs some TLC, and I shouldn\u2019t put it off.\u201d He got to his feet and adjusted the towel around his slim waist. \u201cI\u2019m good to go like this,\u201d he told Starsky. \u201cUnless you want <\/em>me to put my clothes on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would I want you to do that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller winked at him, then addressed the goalie. \u201cSee you Sunday, Kenny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

So. Maybe they weren\u2019t boyfriends after all. Maybe just fuck buddies. Maybe nothing but close friends. And maybe that would make Starsky\u2019s goal\u2014convincing Miller to turn against his old man\u2014a little easier to achieve.<\/span><\/p>\n

All six-foot-something of Kenny stood\u2014slowly. \u201cSure, Sam,\u201d he drawled, one hand lazily scratching an impressive six-pack. \u201cI guess we can grab that drink some other time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller tapped the side of his head with two fingers. \u201cGeez. Yeah. Shitty memory, right? Next week for sure.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSounds good.\u201d Give Kenny kudos for trying to sound chill. With a parting glance at Starsky that was anything but pleasant, he stormed off toward the showers.<\/span><\/p>\n

Oh, my. He had one fine ass under that towel.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky gave his own ass a mental kick. What was he thinking? It had been too long since he\u2019d gotten laid. Or even had a date. Didn\u2019t matter. This was the job, and he couldn\u2019t let anything\u2014or anyone\u2014prevent him from getting it done. Besides, Kenny only had eyes for Sam Miller. That much was clear.<\/span><\/p>\n

As Starsky held the door for Miller, he took in his new surroundings once more. It was quite the place: the total opposite of the frozen-in-the-\u201950s locker room of the Bay City Police Department, which likely had never been and would never be occupied by this many fine specimens of the male form. The Los Angeles Blades\u2014the first openly gay ice hockey team in the U.S.\u2014practiced here twice a week.<\/span><\/p>\n

He reflected how grateful he was that, as the team\u2019s trainer, he didn\u2019t have to be a good skater. Or even know how to skate. Several successful undercover stints with the BCPD and, before that, two tours of Afghanistan as a combat medic had made Starsky the natural choice for this assignment. He was more than certain that being an out-and-proud cop sealed the deal.<\/span><\/p>\n

The fates had been more than generous to him on his first day with the Blades. In moments, it would be just him and Miller in the PT room.<\/span><\/p>\n

And time to start putting his theory to the test.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you get hurt, anyway?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTripped over my own goalie\u2019s stick and landed hard. Hurt my pride worse than my shoulder.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSpeaking of goalies,\u201d Starsky said, standing behind the seated Miller, \u201cI hope I didn\u2019t get you in trouble with your boyfriend back there.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller tensed under Starsky\u2019s hands. \u201cKenny\u2019s not my boyfriend.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Okay. He\u2019s cute, though.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot bad for an unemployed librarian from Minnesota. Jesus\u2014Minnesota.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky gently repositioned Miller\u2019s right arm, then grabbed what he needed from his cart. \u201cOkay, that\u2019s enough stretching for today. Now I\u2019m going to do some cold laser therapy on you. A few minutes\u2019 worth ought to do it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever. So, what about you, Dave? Seeing anyone?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWho, me?\u201d Starsky sputtered. \u201cNah.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not? You\u2019re cute, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d Starsky said, holding the laser in place above Miller\u2019s injured shoulder. \u201cBut when it comes to relationships, I\u2019m a loser with a capital L. Keep nice and still, okay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Miller resumed looking straight ahead. \u201cI\u2019m just surprised.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnyone can have bad luck. Maybe not quite as bad as mine, though.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWant to bet?\u201d Miller mumbled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI missed that. What did you say?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d Miller sat silently for a couple of beats. \u201cC\u2019mon, Dave. I know I just met you, but you seem like you\u2019ve got a lot to offer a guy. So, what\u2019s your deal?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was a good thing that Starsky was still out of Miller\u2019s line of sight. He could feel an inappropriate smirk coming on, and it took some effort to prevent the satisfaction he was feeling from spilling over into his voice. \u201cForget I said anything. I\u2019m here to solve your problems\u2014not burden you with mine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHoney, my sore shoulder is the least of my fucking problems. Spill.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky took a deep breath. \u201cI had\u2026 I had a terrible experience with my first boyfriend, and I guess I\u2019ve never gotten over it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPoor baby. What did he do that was so awful? Cheat on you? Dis your wardrobe?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Nothing like that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what happened?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI shouldn\u2019t be talking to you about this. It\u2019s\u2014unprofessional.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m the one who asked, so relax. I\u2019m not going to tell anyone.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. It\u2019s really personal, and I just met you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThey say that talking to a stranger is easier than talking to someone you know. Or some such bullshit. Might do you some good. So, go on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky counted silently to three. \u201cMy father was the one who\u2014\u201d He swallowed. \u201c\u2014was the problem. He caught me and boyfriend fooling around.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOuch. When was this?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA lifetime ago. When I was seventeen. Jeff and I didn\u2019t get the chance to be alone much, so we skipped final period one day and went to my house. I thought we\u2019d have the place to ourselves for at least an hour. But my dad\u2014he came home from work early, for some reason. I don\u2019t remember why. Anyway, we didn\u2019t hear anything until my bedroom door flew open.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t lock it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt didn\u2019t have a lock.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d Miller prompted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd he started whaling on me.\u201d Starsky sighed. \u201cJeff tried to pull him off, but that just made things worse. I was terrified that he\u2019d also get a beating, so I told him to get the hell out of there. And he did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJesus,\u201d Miller said softly. \u201cThen what?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI tried to fight back, but the old man was too strong. Too angry. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. I had a concussion and a broken jaw. And lots of bruises.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A fine sheen of sweat was now visible along the base of Miller\u2019s neck. \u201cDid your father serve any time for it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou kidding? He told the cops that I must have gotten into a fight after school, made it home, and then passed out. I was lucky he found me, he said.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou told them he was lying, right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUhn-uhn. That would\u2019ve made life even tougher for my mom and my little brother. And who\u2019d take my word over his, anyway?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTell me you didn\u2019t go back home\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFor a while. I had no money and nowhere else to go. It wasn\u2019t easy, but I kept my nose clean and stayed out of the fucking bastard\u2019s way as much as I could. As soon as I turned eighteen, I enlisted. Haven\u2019t seen him since.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Jeff?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhile I was recovering, he\u2014\u201d He cleared his throat. \u201cHe killed himself. Took a bunch of sleeping pills, I heard.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJesus.\u201d Again, softly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. He was always scared shitless that his parents would find out he was gay. We both were.\u201d Starsky cleared his throat. \u201cWhat about you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller began clenching and unclenching his left fist. \u201cMy mom knew all along, so when I turned 16, she encouraged me to come out to my father. He was shocked at first, but then he seemed to be okay with it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re one of the lucky ones.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller made a non-committal grunt.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSeriously,\u201d Starsky pressed. \u201cYour father\u2019s not a monster, like mine. I know that Jeff committed suicide, but I\u2019ll always blame my dad for it. He might as well have killed him himself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller was perspiring heavily, which made Starsky practically shiver. If what he\u2019d learned from some friends and reliable sources in L.A.\u2019s gay community was true, Miller was still grieving for the love of his life. Someone named Joey. The apparently happy couple had been a fixture of West Hollywood\u2019s most popular bars and clubs for quite some time. Then, more than a year ago, they stopped showing up. Several months later, Miller started coming back every Friday night\u2014alone\u2014but always left with a different guy, each one bearing more than a passing resemblance to Joey: tall, blue-eyed, and blond.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d Starsky asked. \u201cJust another minute to go\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller wiped at his forehead with the back of his left hand. \u201cYeah. Fine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes! Stop trying to change the subject. You said you have bad luck with, and I quote, relationships. Plural. Did all<\/em> your boyfriends kill themselves?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ah. Starsky had hit an emotional sore spot. \u201cNo. No, of course not. It\u2019s just that I keep going for guys who remind me of Jeff. And when they turn out to be nothing like him, things go south fairly quickly.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you\u2019re just afraid to fall in love again.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. You ever been in love?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what happened?\u201d Starsky prodded.<\/span><\/p>\n

Miller sat there like a Greek statue.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour story couldn\u2019t be worse than mine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The stony silence continued.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat could be worse than\u2014?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Three loud, quick raps on the closed door startled both men.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUh, Dave?\u201d the culprit called out. \u201cIt\u2019s Paul Martinez. Your 9:45. I don\u2019t mean to sound pushy or anything, but I\u2019ve got a hot date tonight, so\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJust finishing up here, Paul.\u201d Starsky shut off the laser and traded it for a towel from the equipment cart. \u201cBe right with you.\u201d He wiped Miller down before draping the towel around his shoulders and giving them a brief squeeze. \u201cAll set, Sam. Just do those exercises I showed you, okay? Twice a day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Sure. I think I should have another treatment. Maybe after the game.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood idea. Let me book that right now.\u201d He checked his iPad. \u201cOkay. You\u2019ll be my third. Is that all right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d Was it just Starsky\u2019s imagination or was Miller paler than he was when the appointment started? \u201cUh, Dave?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky stopped entering data and looked across the room at Miller, who stood clutching the doorknob. \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026 Nothing. See you Sunday.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Then Martinez charged into the room like the bull in heat that he was, and Starsky had to put all thoughts of his next encounter with Miller on hold.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Friday, March 3, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The day started with a text that anyone snooping through his messages would have deemed perfectly innocent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNeed to see you. My place. 1 hour.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was from \u201cHarold.\u201d As in Captain Harold Dobey. As in his boss.<\/span><\/p>\n

Shit. He had somewhere to be at noon: the clinic where he was also working as part of his cover.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky doubted he was being watched by any of Jackson Miller\u2019s people, but he wasn\u2019t taking anything for granted\u2014not when the stakes were so high. He traveled via the most byzantine route imaginable to Bay City PD headquarters and parked his motorcycle two blocks away.<\/span><\/p>\n

There wasn\u2019t much action in the bullpen, which suited him just fine. He wasn\u2019t in the mood for small talk. Bypassing the coffee station, he strode into Dobey\u2019s office at 9:55 a.m.<\/span><\/p>\n

Damn. Five large Styrofoam cups and a box of donuts were front and center on the captain\u2019s desk.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Morning, Cap\u2019n.\u201d He helped himself to a coffee, set his bike helmet on one of the two mismatched chairs, settled into the other, and made himself comfortable. \u201cWho else is coming to this little party?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Dobey shook a meaty finger at his detective. \u201cGet your damned feet off my desk, and put that damned helmet somewhere it won\u2019t be in the way. Assistant Commissioner Johnson and two members of the DEA will be here any minute.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAw, not the feds!\u201d Starsky stomped over to the nearest filing cabinet and banged his helmet down. \u201cYou know what\u2019s going to happen, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do I look like: a damned fortune teller?\u201d Dobey patted his belly. \u201cCalm down and eat the last chocolate glazed before I do. I\u2019ve already had two, and I promised Edith I wouldn\u2019t have more than three of these things a day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky shook his head. \u201cMy stomach\u2019s been in knots since I got your text. So just tell me: am I done with Miller?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe only thing I know is that the DEA also wants to get the kid to rat out his father.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, they\u2019re going to replace me with one of their men?\u201d Starsky\u2019s fist hit the desk hard enough to make the donuts nearly jump out of their box. \u201cThat\u2019s just great.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTemper, temper, Detective Starsky.\u201d Assistant Commissioner George Johnson moved awfully quietly for someone his size. \u201cLet\u2019s wait to hear what our friends at the Drug Enforcement Agency have to say before you start destroying the furniture.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSorry. Sir.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you are.\u201d Johnson selected one of the cups of coffee before seating himself. \u201cGood morning, Captain.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Morning, sir. Did you want to fill Starsky in on the rest?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Johnson made sure he had Starsky\u2019s full attention. \u201cHas the Captain told you that the DEA already has a man on the inside?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky shot to his feet. \u201cWhat? For how long? Who is it? One of the players? I would\u2019ve been able to\u2014\u201d His eyebrows separated and threatened to disappear into his hairline. \u201cWait a minute\u2026 Son of a bitch!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The three men turned their heads in unison as a uniformed officer cleared her throat in the doorway. \u201cCaptain Dobey, your guests are here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The two exquisitely dressed strangers had barely crossed the threshold of Dobey\u2019s office when one of them\u2014a tall blond\u2014froze. \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI knew it!\u201d Starsky yelled back.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve already met, of course,\u201d Johnson said calmly, \u201cbut you have me at a disadvantage, Special Agent\u2026?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHutchinson. Ken Hutchinson.\u201d His composure somewhat recovered, he pushed past Starsky to shake the Assistant Commissioner\u2019s hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

Johnson then greeted Hutchinson\u2019s supervisor, Special Agent Gabi Novak, before introducing Novak to his people.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHave a seat, everyone,\u201d Dobey directed at Hutchinson and Novak just as Starsky was about to reclaim his spot.<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe Johnson didn\u2019t mind standing, but Starsky sure did\u2014especially in his own house\u2014so he planted his right butt cheek on the arm of his chair. The one Hutchinson had appropriated. His antics earned him a sharp look from Dobey that he chose to ignore.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll start,\u201d said Novak, brushing invisible lint off the sleeve of her designer suit jacket. \u201cThe DEA and your department came up with the same plan\u2014although we thought of it first, of course\u2014to bring Jackson Miller to justice. Hutch has made excellent progress earning Sam Miller\u2019s trust, so it\u2019s just a matter of time before\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know I\u2019m just a lowly police officer,\u201d Starsky snapped, \u201cbut I\u2019ve only had one interaction with Miller Junior and I need just one or two more to get him to tell me that his dad either killed his boyfriend or had one of his goons do it. How long has Kenny had?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s Hutch.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? Whatever,\u201d Starsky said with a wave of his hand. \u201cAnd what\u2019s he got to show for it? Besides a decent goals-against average, I mean.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutchinson twisted in his seat and glared up at Starsky. \u201cI was this close\u2014\u201d He held his right thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. \u201c\u2014 to having him spill his guts about his old man. But then you just had to show up and interfere\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cInterfere?\u201d Starsky\u2019s face was burning. \u201cHis appointment was booked before I came on board, so don\u2019t go and blame me for following the fucking PT schedule.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStarsky!\u201d Dobey bellowed. \u201cLanguage!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I made more headway in one day,\u201d Starsky continued, now standing toe to toe with Hutchinson, \u201cthan you did in however long you\u2019ve been trying to\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Johnson managed to wedge himself between the sparring partners, placing a paw flat against each man\u2019s chest to separate them. \u201cThat\u2019s enough, boys. Take your corners.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

With one last death stare apiece, they retreated to opposite sides of the crowded room, Starsky leaning against the wall as though it too had slighted him, while Hutch dropped heavily into his chair.<\/span><\/p>\n

Novak, now tapping her fingernails on the arm of her chair, spoke directly to Johnson. \u201cAs I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Special Agent Hutchinson is perfectly capable of finishing this assignment without any so-called help from Detective Starsky.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, really?” Starsky sneered. \u201cAnd how would it look if I just disappeared after only one day with the team? Don\u2019t you think that would look suspicious?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe has a point,\u201d Dobey chimed in. \u201cThe last thing we want to do is spook the target.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGabi.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

All eyes turned to Johnson.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt took this department a great deal of effort to convince the Blades to allow Detective Starsky to join their staff, and to find somewhere where he could work as a physical therapist the rest of the time.\u201d He held up a hand before Novak could get a word in. \u201cAnd I appreciate what you and your colleagues went through to find Special Agent Hutchinson a spot on the team.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou damn well should,\u201d Hutchinson muttered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo why don\u2019t we just combine forces and let this play out a little longer?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSeems like a ridiculous waste of resources, George,\u201d Novak scowled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSeems like you\u2019d rather make a pissing contest out of this instead of giving a shit about what matters, which is putting Jackson Miller away, in case you\u2019d forgotten,\u201d Starsky said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStarsky! Don\u2019t make me warn you a third time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cC\u2019mon, Cap\u2019n! You know I\u2019m right about this arrogant piece of\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutchinson rolled his eyes. \u201cAre you always this diplomatic?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, shut up, Kenny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutchinson was on his feet again, waving a finger in Starsky\u2019s face. \u201cYou\u2019re the one with the big mouth, pal.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Novak also rose. \u201cForget it, Hutch. You can\u2019t work with a Neanderthal like this. We\u2019re leaving.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure Starsky and Hutchinson can put their personal feelings aside to get the job done,\u201d said Johnson. \u201cDon\u2019t make any rash decisions, Gabi. Talk it over with your people. It makes sense to collaborate. But don\u2019t take too long. The Blades\u2019 game is two days from now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFine. I\u2019ll be in touch,\u201d Novak said. \u201cBut don\u2019t expect any miracles.\u201d With a brief nod to Johnson and Dobey, she left the meeting with Hutchinson in her wake.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSee ya, Kenny,\u201d Starsky called out.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot if I can help it, asshole,\u201d Hutchinson shot back.<\/span><\/p>\n

Christ. Starsky had been right from the start: the guy was a prick.<\/span><\/p>\n

Friday, March 3, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The call came shortly after Starsky got home from a busy day at the clinic. He was surprised when Dobey told him he was still on the case\u2014and shocked to learn that Hutchinson wanted to meet with him to compare notes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNow?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou got something better to do?\u201d Dobey barked.<\/span><\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t, but that wasn\u2019t something a single gay man liked to admit on a Friday night. \u201cWhere, Cap\u2019n?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe Culver Hotel. Velvet Lounge. Second floor. And try to stay out of trouble.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky wolfed down the rest of his dinner, flossed and brushed his teeth, showered quickly, and shaved. But figuring out what to wear took longer than it should have. By the time he left the apartment\u2014dressed in faded Levi\u2019s and a long-sleeved tee-shirt that fit him like a coat of sky blue paint\u2014his bed was covered with a rainbow of discarded clothing.<\/span><\/p>\n

He sped toward Culver City feeling strangely giddy, telling himself he was merely excited about Hutchinson\u2019s choice of where to meet. Starsky loved classic films, and the Culver Hotel had played a big part in a whole bunch of them. John Wayne had once owned it, and stars from movies like Gone With the Wind<\/em> and The Wizard of Oz<\/em> had stayed there. Today it was what they called a \u201cboutique hotel\u201d\u2014the kind of place you\u2019d hardly run into Sam Miller. Not when West Hollywood was teaming with clubs full of available men.<\/span><\/p>\n

When Starsky arrived at the Velvet Lounge, he knew immediately why Hutchinson had picked it over the hotel lobby bar. Between the dim lighting and all the secluded corners, it took him several minutes to find the DEA agent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d Starsky slipped off his black leather jacket and draped it over the back of the upholstered chair across from Hutchinson\u2019s. \u201cDon\u2019t let me forget this,\u201d he said, placing his helmet under the table.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, Hutchinson\u2019s golden beauty rivalled that of any matinee idol, past or present. \u201cWhat\u2019s your ride?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHuh? Oh. Kawasaki Ninja. But I usually drive a \u201975 Gran Torino. Fully restored. Cherry red with a white racing strip and mag wheels. But a bit too flashy for this assignment, so my mechanic is babysitting for me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Just when it looked as though Hutchinson was going to respond to Starsky\u2019s mindless babbling, a server with a Marlene Dietrich vibe materialized.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWelcome to the Velvet Lounge. My name is Vivian. What can I get for you, sir?\u201d she asked Starsky.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBeer, I guess.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutchinson reached over and tapped Starsky lightly on the wrist. \u201cI\u2019m buying.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIn that case, I\u2019ll have whatever he\u2019s having.\u201d Starsky indicated the crystal tumbler Hutchinson was toying with.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cScotch. Neat.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd expensive?\u201d Starsky asked brightly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Vivian nodded. \u201cWould you like another, sir?\u201d she asked Hutchinson.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

God, Hutchinson was something else. His shirt was dark and clingy, open at the neck, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had forearms to die for.<\/span><\/p>\n

They waited quietly, awkwardly, for their drinks. Starsky was grateful that their server proved to be fast and competent, because there was something he really needed to say to Hutchinson. Without an audience.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAbout this morning\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI need to apologize\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They both stopped in mid sentence.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou first,\u201d they said, again at the same time.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutchinson held up a hand. \u201cAfter you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Oh, boy. Starsky manned up and met Hutchinson\u2019s eyes. \u201cI should never have got up in your face like that and acted like a jerk. It\u2019s just that\u2014that Novak woman got on my last nerve and I\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, it\u2019s okay. I get it. She\u2019s usually not that condescending, but she\u2019s always competitive. Gabi wants to win this case. Badly. And sometimes her combative attitude is contagious. I never should\u2019ve called you an asshole or accused you of messing up my plans with Miller.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Relieved, Starsky raised his Scotch. \u201cCan we start over, Special Agent Hutchinson?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTo new beginnings, Detective Starsky,\u201d he said, raising his own glass and clinking it against Starsky\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t suppose you usually go by Kenny. So, is it Ken? Or Kenneth?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He grimaced. \u201cIt\u2019s Hutch. And what do you prefer? Dave? David? Davey?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMy friends call me Starsky.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch smiled, triggering long-dormant butterflies in Starsky\u2019s stomach to take wing. \u201cOkay, Starsky. Why don\u2019t you tell me what approach you\u2019re using with Miller?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

By the time Starsky finished, he and Hutch were into another round of drinks.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow much of what you told him about yourself is true?\u201d Hutch asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMost. I was born and raised in Brooklyn, I do have a younger brother, I did move to California after my last tour of Afghanistan, and I studied physical therapy. But I had a happy childhood, I enlisted after college, and admitting I was gay didn\u2019t change my relationship with anyone in my family, including my dad.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, no suicidal boyfriends?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNone that I know of. What about your story? It\u2019s obvious you\u2019ve played hockey before. And you look like you could be from Minnesota. But I\u2019m guessing you were never a librarian.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou guessed right.\u201d Hutch sipped at his Scotch. \u201cNever a librarian, but I spent the first 18 years of my life in Duluth. And, as I told Miller, the way my parents\u2014especially my father\u2014reacted when I came out was why I decided to pursue a higher education as far from home as I could get.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know it\u2019s none of my business, but how did you manage that? It sounds like your family wasn\u2019t much help as far as supporting you was concerned.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou got that right. But I was extremely lucky because my paternal grandmother always had a soft spot for me. Nanna June offered to foot the bill for my tuition and subsidize my off-campus apartment. I joined the DEA not long after graduation. Within three years, I\u2019d saved enough to pay my grandmother back every dime she\u2019d lent me. But she refused to take it. And when she died a few years later, she left me\u2014well, let\u2019s say it was enough to cause a lot of resentment. My family has basically disowned me.\u201d Hutch chuckled, shaking his head. \u201cSorry. I should be talking to you about Miller instead of boring you with the minutiae of my life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not boring me. In fact, you can tell me anything you want to about Hutch\u2014the English major?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUh, no. My degree is in law enforcement.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou wanted to be a cop ever since you were a kid?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPretty much. When did you decide to change careers?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot long after I moved to California. For the first few months, I lived with a family I\u2019d known back in Brooklyn. The husband, John, was one of New York\u2019s finest, but he moved here because of something to do with his wife\u2019s health. Anyway, when he saw I wasn\u2019t making much money from doing PT seven days a week, he encouraged me to consider a different line of work.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

This wasn\u2019t a date. Starsky was well aware of that. But it sure didn\u2019t feel like work. Still, he thought he should get back on track. \u201cUh, you were going to tell me more about our mutual friend Sam.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnother round, gentlemen?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure. Why not?\u201d Hutch didn\u2019t bother to check with Starsky, who hadn\u2019t heard their server arrive. Nor had he realized they\u2019d finished their drinks. It was unusual for him to get this distracted while on the job.<\/span><\/p>\n

Once Vivian had slipped away, Hutch scratched his head. \u201cWhere were we? Oh, yeah. Miller and I have something in common: wealthy, controlling fathers whom we despise, albeit for completely different reasons. So I made sure he knew that right from the start.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky nodded, his admiration for Hutch increasing by the minute.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I was positive he\u2019d be drawn to me because I fit the description of the missing-and-presumed-dead Joey. Sure enough, I caught Miller checking me out the first day I met him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe guy\u2019s got taste. Gotta give him that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch shrugged adorably. \u201cWhat he\u2019s got is a type. But thanks. Anyway, I let him know I was on to him. Then he sat down beside me\u2014we were in the locker room after practice\u2014and I thought, \u2018Here we go. He\u2019s going to hit on me.\u2019 Instead, he told me what a shame it was that we\u2019re teammates because he only has sex with strangers. People he never wants to see again.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCharming. And not at all what I was expecting.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMe, neither. I had to throw my playbook out the window. I told him I was okay with that because I\u2019d just been dumped by my long-time cheating dick of a partner and wasn\u2019t interested in dating anyone or having a fuck buddy. I spent the next week keeping mostly to myself, all quiet sighs and sad puppy dog eyes. Then, after the second game, he came up to me and said he knew what it\u2019s like to have a broken heart, and he\u2019d just like someone who\u2019s not always thinking with his little head to talk to. So we talk.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHas he said anything, uh, interesting about his scumbag father?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOne time, when I asked Sam what he did for a living, he said that even though he was \u2018technically\u2019\u2014\u201d Hutch used air quotes. \u201c\u2014part of the family business, he didn\u2019t see his parents anymore.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDid he say why?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he learned the hard way that his father wasn\u2019t the person he thought he was. When I asked him for details, he said he wasn\u2019t ready to talk about it. I\u2019m thinking that going out for a few drinks, just the two of us, will loosen him up a bit.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It occurred to Starsky that maybe Hutch\u2019s current goal was to loosen him<\/em> up. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.<\/span><\/p>\n

He was once more caught off guard by Vivian\u2019s stealthy return to their table, and made a mental note to start paying less attention to Hutch and more to his surroundings. But he was finding that increasingly difficult to do as the night wore on. Later, he wouldn\u2019t be able to say exactly how long they talked for. He just knew that the topic of Miller kept getting pushed off to the side.<\/span><\/p>\n

And he knew he\u2019d had enough to drink. More than enough. When Vivian swung by again, he held his hands up in surrender. \u201cDo you serve coffee here? I don\u2019t think I can drive for a while. Not like this.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA whole pot of espresso wouldn\u2019t help either one of us, Starsk,\u201d Hutch said with a slight slur.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky thought about the last time a man had called him that, and the butterflies he\u2019d felt earlier started migrating somewhere south of his stomach.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut don\u2019t worry,\u201d Hutch continued while he settled the check. \u201cThis place has a much better option for customers who have too much to drink. I\u2019ll be right back. Don\u2019t go anywhere, \u2019kay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

No chance of that happening.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just when Starsky thought he\u2019d been ditched, Hutch returned carrying a small white bag. With a flourish, he held up his other hand and displayed something else that was made of plastic.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Starsky blinked a couple of times to be sure what he was looking at was indeed a hotel key card.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou coming?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet. I thought I\u2019d wait \u2019til we get to the room.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch laughed. \u201cSexy, smart, and<\/em> funny. If you can cook, too, I might just have to marry you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWithout even knowing what I\u2019m like in bed?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch waggled the key card. \u201cWant to show me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen grab your helmet and jacket, Mrs. Hutchinson, and follow me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The stairs were closer than the elevator, making the decision to walk an easy one. They climbed energetically, side by side. As they neared their floor, Starsky\u2019s elbow gently nudged Hutch in the side. \u201cAny chance there\u2019s condoms and lube in that bag?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Fraid not. Just run-of-the-mill toiletries. The front desk has no imagination when it comes to emergency supplies.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They were all over each other before their room door shut behind them, and it didn\u2019t take them long to figure out that undressing each other wasn\u2019t as efficient as shedding their own clothes. Once they were both naked, they feasted on each other\u2019s mouth, each other\u2019s bodies.<\/span><\/p>\n

Much later, spent and drifting off, Starsky hoped like hell that he wasn\u2019t having a booze-induced dream in the back of a cab on his way home.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Saturday, March 4, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHutch. Hutch. HUTCH.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re snoring.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAm not. \u2019Time is it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky cracked open one eye and peered at the bedside clock, finding it a struggle to bring the red digital numbers into focus. \u201cOh, shit.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got to be at work in less than two hours.\u201d He flicked on the light and began rummaging around for his clothes. \u201cIf I leave now I might be able to make it on time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? Two hours is plenty of\u2014Oh, wait. You don\u2019t need to go home first.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky stopped in mid rummage. \u201cOf course I do. I have to shave and get changed.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you don\u2019t. You put on fresh clothes last night, correct?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, yeah.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPut down that sock and come here.\u201d Hutch reached up and pulled his obedient slave down for a long, probing kiss. \u201cHardly any stubble, which means you also shaved before you went out.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was clear that Hutch had, too.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d Hutch continued, \u201chave breakfast with me and go to work from here. You can jump in the shower while I order room service.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky straddled Hutch\u2019s thighs and cupped his face in his hands. \u201cHere\u2019s a better idea. Why don\u2019t we both jump in the shower? Then <\/em>you can order room service.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

They left the Culver together, Hutch reasoning it\u2019d be no fun to be there alone.<\/span><\/p>\n

As much as having to go to work made Starsky want to punch something, he couldn\u2019t stop grinning like an idiot. The lot where Hutch had parked his car was in the opposite direction of where Starsky\u2019s bike was, but Hutch said he had nothing better to do and wouldn\u2019t mind going with Starsky to check out the Ninja.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStarsk? Uh, I think we need to talk more about what we\u2019re going to do tomorrow. About Miller, I mean.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019ve you got in mind?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch rubbed his hands on the front of his tight black jeans. \u201cIf you\u2019re free tonight, would you\u2014would you like to come over to my place? I could feed you. Put a couple of steaks on the grill. Do you like steak?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI love steak.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah? That\u2019s great. Really great. Uh, there may be some alcohol involved so, if you want, you know, you could bring an overnight bag. If you want.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Had they really just met a few days ago? Things were moving fast. Crazy fast.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnything else I should bring?\u201d Starsky asked. \u201cWine? Dessert? Astroglide?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch laughed, which erased the cute little wrinkle that had developed between his beautiful blue eyes. \u201cNo, I\u2019m good. Give me your phone.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Their hands did more than simply brush during the exchange, and Starsky seriously considered blowing off his shift at the clinic.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHere\u2019s my number,\u201d Hutch said as he worked Starsky\u2019s cell. \u201cWhat time do you finish today?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFive.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch handed back the phone. \u201cOkay. Text me when you\u2019re ready to come over and I\u2019ll text you back my address.\u201d And, with a quick, sweet kiss, he was gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky figured he was either the luckiest guy on the planet. Or the biggest fool. He\u2019d soon find out which.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Sunday, March 5, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you do when you\u2019re not healing me and my teammates?\u201d Miller asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI work at a sports injury clinic,\u201d Starsky said. \u201cIn West Hollywood.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have a business card?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure do.\u201d When Starsky went under cover, he didn\u2019t fool around. \u201cI\u2019ll give you one when we\u2019re finished.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The appointment was coming to an end, and, up to this point, the main topic of the post-game conversation had been the Blades\u2019 easy win over one of their biggest rivals, the Warriors. Miller was justifiably proud of his contributions: a goal and two assists.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky, on the other hand, had been disappointed that things hadn\u2019t picked up where they\u2019d left off the last time. But now that Miller had re-opened the door\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about you, Sam? What do you do besides play hockey?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI work out. I go to bars and clubs. I watch TV. I read.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, no job?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIn name only. Daddy dearest put me on the payroll after I finished college, but my history degree wasn\u2019t the best prerequisite for any of his business interests. Still, I hung around until\u2014until he did something utterly unforgiveable.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky shut off the laser. \u201cWhat did he do?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNothing anyone can prove. Ever heard of Jackson Miller?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUh, the guy who\u2019s always in the news for donating big bucks to children’s hospitals and animal shelters and places like that? That\u2019s your father?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s him. And stop being so fucking polite. You know damn well that he\u2019s also the guy who\u2019s always in the news for being accused of committing all sorts of horrible crimes\u2014but never getting caught.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWow. I don\u2019t know what to say. You don\u2019t deserve a father like that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I do. Maybe I don\u2019t. It is what it is. Now, if we\u2019re done here, the boys are waiting for me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u201d But Starsky knew what was coming.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going out for drinks and dinner. It\u2019s what we do after a win. Or a loss. You should come. Maybe you\u2019ll hit it off with one of the players and your luck will change.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky couldn\u2019t help himself. \u201cActually, I think it already has.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh my god!\u201d Miller removed the towel from around his neck and flicked it playfully at Starsky\u2019s mid-section. \u201cYou like someone on the team!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky snatched the pseudo-weapon away from Miller and tossed it into the hamper. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you do! You\u2019re blushing! C\u2019mon\u2014tell me who it is. I know how to keep a secret.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ah, that he did.<\/span><\/p>\n

And so did Starsky. \u201cIt\u2019s a guy I know from my other job.\u201d Sticking to the truth as much possible made working undercover somewhat safer. \u201cWe hooked up the last couple of nights and I think\u2014well, I\u2019m not interested in meeting anyone else at the moment.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, I get that. Are you seeing him again tonight?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYup.\u201d In his dreams. Over breakfast that morning, he\u2019d told Hutch he\u2019d be staying away from the post-game activities. The reason given was to let Hutch continue getting closer to Miller, free of any distractions. What Starsky had kept to himself was that he didn\u2019t want to spend a night sitting at the same table as Hutch, making small talk with other guys. Besides, he had two days\u2019 worth of redacted reports to write up.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood for you, Dave.\u201d Miller slapped him on the back jovially. \u201cYou can celebrate with the team some other time. Have fun tonight with your new man. And don\u2019t forget to give me one of your cards. I might need to see you between the next two practices.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Starsky was tapping away at his keyboard when his phone pinged with a text. It was from Hutch.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you wearing?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky chuckled to himself. \u201cWhere r u?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe john at the sports bar near the rink. We\u2019re staying for dinner.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was nearly 7:30. Starsky had finished eating more than an hour ago. \u201cWho?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFive including our boy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSorry.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay. I might learn something.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood luck.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. When do you work tomorrow?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c8 to 4.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAny plans for the evening?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Starsky\u2019s grin widened.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCome for dinner.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cU could come here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure. When?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s 6?\u201d That would give Starsky time to get groceries and put a decent meal together.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPerfect. Text me your address.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cK.\u201d He was keying at record speed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. What should I bring?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe usual.\u201d He was counting on Hutch figuring that out on his own.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. Have a good night.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cU 2.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI love that band.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky sent his last text\u2014a smiley face emoji\u2014and goddamn if he didn\u2019t feel like he was 18 again.<\/span><\/p>\n

And, with the energy of a teenager, he started getting his apartment ready for his first house guest in a very long time.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Wednesday, March 8, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis is crazy.\u201d Starsky said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch kissed Starsky\u2019s head absently. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt hasn\u2019t even been a week.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

“I know.”<\/span><\/p>\n

They were relaxing in Hutch\u2019s soaker tub, Starsky in front, his back pressed against Hutch\u2019s chest. \u201cI feel like I\u2019ve known you forever,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMe, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s not normal.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know. But what do you want to do about it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky twisted his body so he could meet Hutch\u2019s eyes. \u201cI dunno. Just keep going and see what happens, I guess.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t look so happy about it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShit.\u201d Starsky wiggled around until sat facing Hutch, planting his feet on either side of Hutch\u2019s hips. \u201cI am<\/em> happy, dummy. But I\u2019m scared, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch sighed noisily. \u201cSo am I. I\u2019ve never\u2014I\u2019m not used to\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. I know. Speed of light, huh?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSomething like that.\u201d Hutch pulled him close and kissed him, taking his sweet time. \u201cOh, I really like you, Starsk. Even if you are <\/em>turning into a prune.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLike you\u2019re not.\u201d Starsky climbed out of the tub, wrapped himself in a super-sized towel, and held another open for Hutch. \u201cC\u2019mon. I have to work in the morning, and you\u2019ve got a big day ahead of you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo last-minute appointment for Miller this time?\u201d Hutch let Starsky enfold him in cozy terrycloth.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNope. Unless he\u2019s hurt himself since seeing me at the clinic this afternoon, he\u2019s all yours after practice tomorrow.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know. I\u2019m just giving you a hard time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKeep squirming against me like that and it\u2019s not the only hard thing you\u2019ll be giving me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch freed a hand to do some exploring. \u201cUh, too late.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a bad influence on me. Or a good one. I can\u2019t decide which.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure you can.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, maybe.\u201d Starsky kissed Hutch soundly. \u201cI hope things go great for you with Miller. Twenty-four hours from now, you could have the case all wrapped up.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf not, you\u2019ll have a chance with him soon.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLooks that way. I guess my dead boyfriend story\u2019s working, huh?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch led Starsky by the hand into his bedroom. \u201cWhat you\u2019ve accomplished in a week took me more than a month.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRight place, right time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Right man for the job.\u201d He got into bed, pulling Starsky in after him. \u201cNow let me show you my appreciation for your multitude of talents.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUh, Hutch?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch stopped nibbling on Starsky\u2019s earlobe. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d Absolutely nothing. \u201cI just\u2014I really like you, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI should hope so.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Then Starsky shut up before he said anything stupid, and let Hutch have his way with him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Sunday, March 12, 2017<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky only had a couple of appointments following the Blades\u2019 game, which was another decisive win over the Jackalopes. Better yet, \u201cKenny\u201d had a shutout, and most of the team was going out to celebrate.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not Starsky, though. He wanted to give Hutch and Miller as much time together as possible, without distracting either one. Hutch had managed to get Miller to talk a bit about Joey the other night, when just the two of them went out after practice. Sam had even gone so far as to imply that his father was responsible for Joey\u2019s disappearance. Now all Hutch had to do was convince him to take his revenge. And that was looking entirely possible.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou joining us, Dave?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky held the door for defenseman Frank Capelli, and walked out with him to the rink\u2019s parking lot. \u201cNot tonight, Frank. Maybe next time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStill seeing the same guy?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYup.\u201d He sure was. In fact, that guy was just a few yards away. He was talking with Miller, who was stuffing his hockey bag into the trunk of his Lexus convertible.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHave fun, sweetie.\u201d Capelli blew Starsky an exaggerated kiss, laughed, and made a beeline for the sports bar where everyone was meeting.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. You, too.\u201d Starsky put on his helmet and took his time starting up his motorcycle so he could observe Hutch for a few moments longer, on the sly. Oh, he had it bad.<\/span><\/p>\n

He was just about to drive off when a black limo with dark tinted windows pulled up beside where Hutch and Miller were standing. Three men jumped out, and Starsky recognized one of them: Jackson Miller.<\/span><\/p>\n

What the hell?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky couldn\u2019t hear a thing, but he didn\u2019t need to. After father and son exchanged a couple of angry-looking words, Miller Senior\u2019s goons stepped behind Hutch and Miller Junior. And Hutch\u2019s body language told Starsky that the goons were armed. In an instant, Hutch and Sam were forced into the limo, which then peeled out of the parking lot.<\/span><\/p>\n

With Starsky following at a safe distance.<\/span><\/p>\n

He was two car lengths\u2019 behind when the limo came to a red light. Hoping for the longest red light in history, Starsky pulled out his phone and started texting. Calling dispatch or 911 while on a motorcycle in the middle of traffic wasn\u2019t going to work, so he had to improvise.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHutch n SM kidnappd by JM and 2 man guns hurry,\u201d his first text message to Dobey read.<\/span><\/p>\n

For the second, he carefully keyed in the limo\u2019s details, including license plate, current location, and the direction it was traveling. And pressed send. That was all he had time to do before the light turned green.<\/span><\/p>\n

Unfortunately, that was it for red lights. Starsky cursed each green light, then cursed again (only worse) when the Miller-mobile hit the freeway. It was now far too dangerous to check his phone to see if Dobey had received his message. He fought to stay cool and focused because, if he didn\u2019t, Hutch wasn\u2019t going to live to see another day.<\/span><\/p>\n

When the limo finally exited the freeway, Starsky knew where it was headed because he\u2019d done his research. Jackson Miller had recently purchased a parcel of land that once included a private airport, and announced he was planning to build a state-of-the-art rehab facility there. Therefore, it was possible that some of the people who bought drugs from him could end up paying him to help them get off whatever shit he got them hooked on in the first place. Talk about double dipping!<\/span><\/p>\n

At this point, the traffic was starting to thin out, so Starsky pulled into the first parking lot he saw to avoid being spotted. Besides, he needed to call Dobey to tell him about the limo\u2019s destination.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky was back on the road a few minutes later, and arrived at the abandoned airfield sooner than he\u2019d expected. He was relieved to see that the limo was parked between the small, ramshackle office and what was left of the hangar. Better yet, there were no other vehicles to be seen on the property. So, unless the limo had dropped additional henchmen off earlier in the day, the cavalry would only have to deal with three bad guys. Keeping out of sight, he called Dobey to report his findings.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStarsky, you\u2019re not armed. Stay where you are. Help is on the way and I don\u2019t want you getting killed.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t do that, Cap\u2019n. This whole thing has execution written all over it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStarsky! Don\u2019t you\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGotta go. Tell them to hurry.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

After muting his phone, Starsky left his bike in front of the huge real estate sign so that the Ninja was visible from the road only. Staying low, he dashed over to the side of the closest building\u2014the office\u2014and hunkered down. This was the place, all right. Miller must have been confident that no one else was in earshot because he was making no effort to keep his voice down. Starsky had no trouble hearing every word he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014an idiot. How could any kid of mine turn out to be such a moron?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLeave him alone.\u201d That was Hutch. Thank god he was alive\u2014and conscious. \u201cHe\u2019s nothing like you, which makes him a decent human being.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Kenny,” Sam said. “I have a few choice words for him, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Jackson Miller laughed, and it was ugly. \u201cKenny, huh? You couldn\u2019t come up with anything better than that, Special Agent Ken<\/em> Hutchinson?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d Sam asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour new friend here is a narc.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s with the DEA.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re wrong. Tell him he\u2019s wrong, Kenny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Where was that damned backup? Starsky was trying not to lose it.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Sam. I guess your father\u2019s been keeping a closer eye on you than we thought.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJesus Christ! You were just using me to get to him<\/em>!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course he was, you little shit,” Jackson snapped. “And you had no clue.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo how did you find out about me?” Hutch asked. “For curiosity\u2019s sake.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Keep him talking, Hutch. Keep stalling.<\/em> It was Starsky\u2019s mantra.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not very smart, but you were right about me keeping an eye on sonny boy. My associates noticed that you spent a lot of time talking with him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Poor Sam. Seemed like he was always being watched, even in parking lots.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut they didn\u2019t think it was a problem\u2014until you went out on your little date, that is. They followed you home and then to where you work. Between the dark car, the dark suit, and the dark shades, you couldn\u2019t have looked any more like a G-man if you\u2019d tried. Very careless, Agent Hutchinson.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou fucking bastard!” Sam yelled. “You had me totally fooled. I really thought you gave a shit about Joey and me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI do, Sam. I\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFor God\u2019s sake!” Jackson snapped. “Your stupid Joey\u2019s been dead for how long and you\u2019re still crying over him?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo he is<\/em> dead!\u201d The anguish in Sam\u2019s voice was heartbreaking. \u201cWhy did you kill him? What did he ever do to you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cListen, you dumb kid. I know you were planning on ripping me off and running away with him. When you drink, when you\u2019re finished having sex, you talk too much. You told him things you shouldn\u2019t have. Things about the business. Things about me<\/em>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2014?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour condo\u2014the one I pay for\u2014has been bugged since the day you moved in. I know every disgusting detail of your life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou sick son of a bitch!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

There was the sound of skin striking skin, followed by a cry of pain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been wanting to do that for years, but I promised your mother I wouldn\u2019t hurt you. Or let you get hurt. But no more promises. Not after you let yourself get conned like this. You\u2019re nothing but trouble, and I\u2019m done putting up with you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re going to kill your own son?\u201d Hutch asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

There was another slapping noise, and Hutch\u2014it was definitely Hutch\u2014grunted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere r they\u201d Starsky texted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not going to kill him. Louie is. And he\u2019s going to take care of you, too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Starsky scanned the area for something to use as a weapon. An old hammer. A big rock. Anything.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t cry, son. You and Joey will soon be together. Forever.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky found what he needed and picked it up. Perfect. Next, he grabbed a medium-sized stone with the other hand, then crept to the back of the building to check things out. Good. There wasn\u2019t a single a window, or even a big hole in the wall, so the only way in or out had to be the front door. This was going to work. It had to.<\/span><\/p>\n

His confidence growing, he took careful aim and tossed the stone to a point just past where he\u2019d been spying earlier.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTo show you what a good father I am, I\u2019ll even let them bury you\u2014What was that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cProbably just a rat or something.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky didn\u2019t recognize the voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOne of you go look. Now!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky held his breath and readied his makeshift weapon. Sure enough, he heard the door squeak open, then saw a shadow coming his way. As soon as the tip of a black shoe was visible, he stepped around the corner and swung the two-by-four as hard as he could. Caught squarely in the face, the gunman dropped to the ground. There was no time to tie him up\u2014and nothing to tie him up with\u2014but Starsky was satisfied that the board, which had two rusty nails sticking out it, had done the trick. Big time.<\/span><\/p>\n

Stuffing the discarded gun into the back waistband of his jeans, he dragged the body around the corner and waited for his next victim.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLouie! What\u2019s going on out there? Louie!\u201d Jackson called.<\/span><\/p>\n

After a period of silence that felt like a century to Starsky, the door opened again\u2014slowly, this time. Miller\u2019s other minion was trying to be quiet. Aw, how cute. Once Starsky was sure the guy was within striking range, he sprang from his hiding place and fired three quick shots. He was able to snatch the revolver before the bloodied corpse hit the dirt, and was bounding through the office door within seconds, a gun in each hand, half expecting to be greeted with a hail of bullets.<\/span><\/p>\n

But Jackson Miller\u2014and only Jackson Miller\u2014was just standing there, arms in the air. \u201cDon\u2019t shoot! I don\u2019t have a weapon. I never carry one. By the way, my lawyer\u2019s going to eat you for breakfast.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShut up and put hands on your head. Do it now or I\u2019ll blow your fucking head off!\u201d Staying out of Miller\u2019s reach, Starsky kept both guns trained on the asshole but risked a quick look around the room. \u201cHutch! Sam!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The two men were both bound tightly to old wooden chairs, bleeding from the mouth. Nothing too serious, apparently. It pissed Starsky off anyway.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re fine,\u201d Hutch said. \u201cYou look like a cowboy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky couldn\u2019t suppress a small smile. \u201cKinda feel like one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThese ropes hurt. You gonna untie us anytime soon, Butch Cassidy?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYup. In a sec, Sundance. But first, I need to send a text. I wouldn\u2019t want the good guys to rush in and shoot us to pieces.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The words had barely left his mouth when a small tide of men and women in dark suits and uniforms began pouring through the open door\u2014with weapons raised. Luckily for Starsky, one of the peace officers was Gabi Novak, who recognized him immediately.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTook you long enough,\u201d Starsky told her as Miller was seized and cuffed none too gently.<\/span><\/p>\n

She ignored him and strode over to Hutch. \u201cYou okay?\u201d she asked while working to free him from the chair he was bound to.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOnly because of Starsky.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell happened?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He shook his hands to bring back the circulation. \u201cWe need to talk about this. Later,\u201d he said tersely, turning his back to her. \u201cWalk away, Gabi. Now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

As much as Starsky wanted to be with Hutch, he realized that no one was tending to Sam, who hadn\u2019t made a peep since his father hit him. \u201cHow\u2019re you doing, buddy?\u201d He knew it was a ridiculous question. Sam\u2019s face was as pale as death and streaked with tears.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sam finally spoke. \u201cSo you\u2019re a cop, too, huh? Is your name really Dave? Are you even gay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes to all three. But I\u2019m sorry\u2014truly sorry\u2014that just about everything else was a lie, Sam. Hutch and I only wanted to help you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Released from his ropes, Sam stood and started rubbing his wrists.<\/span><\/p>\n

Once Starsky was certain that Sam wasn\u2019t going to keel over, he walked up to Hutch. \u201cYour lip is bleeding.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll live.\u201d He held onto Starsky\u2019s arms, and he was shaking slightly. \u201cThanks, Starsk. You\u2019re a one-man army, you know that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, go on. I mean it. Go on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOuch! Don\u2019t make me laugh. It stings.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

There was nothing that Starsky wanted to do more than kiss that injured lip and take Hutch into his arms. Wouldn\u2019t that curl Novak\u2019s hair?<\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly, someone cried out, and when Starsky and Hutch turned toward the commotion, Sam Miller was pulling a gun out of a uniformed officer\u2019s holster. And pointing it at his father.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis is for Joey!\u201d he yelled. And fired. He got one shot off before he was tackled to the ground by Novak, but one shot was all he needed.<\/span><\/p>\n

A small red circle bloomed in the center of Jackson Miller\u2019s high forehead. He fell where he stood, dead eyes open wide.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch clutched at Starsky\u2019s jacket. \u201cOh my god!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky opened his mouth, but the words wouldn\u2019t come. He squeezed Hutch\u2019s arm and exhaled loudly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sam was pulled to his feet, handcuffed, and dragged away, all the while repeating \u201cit was for Joey\u201d in a soft, calm voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

The adrenaline no longer coursing through his body, Starsky would have collapsed if Hutch hadn\u2019t been holding onto him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey. Hey! Are you<\/em> all right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Although the office was mostly empty now, and the few stragglers didn\u2019t seem to be paying attention to them, Starsky spoke quietly. \u201cYeah. Fine. It just hit me how close I came to losing you. And it\u2019s really freaking me out.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch drew him in tight, not quite hugging him. \u201cIf you think you\u2019re getting rid of me that easily, you\u2019re sadly mistaken, my friend.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHutch! Starsky!\u201d Novak bellowed, all business and buzzkill. \u201cThe paramedics want to see you both. Stat. Then we\u2019ll take you downtown for processing and debriefing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo much for going home and crawling into bed,\u201d Starsky whispered into Hutch\u2019s ear.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch wrapped his arm firmly around Starsky\u2019s shoulders. \u201cYeah. It\u2019s going to be a long night. And not in a good way. Rain check?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRain check.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It wound up taking hours upon hours to answer all the questions and sign all the forms and schedule a series of PTSD assessments. But just minutes after Hutch got home, Starsky knocked on his door.<\/span><\/p>\n

And it didn\u2019t just rain. It poured.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

May 19, 2018<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re doing great, babe,\u201d Hutch said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t let go!\u201d Starsky said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t,\u201d Hutch reassured him. \u201cI won\u2019t. I\u2019ll never let go of you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI bet you say that to all the boys you teach how to ice skate.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOnly the sexy ones.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky figured that poor Hutch was probably going to have bruises on the arm Starsky was holding onto like an angry pit bull. He loved him all the more for not complaining about it, and loosened his grip. Somewhat.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf I ever get good at this, it doesn\u2019t mean I\u2019m going to play hockey.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not why I\u2019m teaching you. I just like doing this together.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSkating around the rink a zillion times.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYup. It\u2019s fun.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re weird, Hutch. You know that, right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNext time, we take it up a notch and do this holding hands.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? I don\u2019t think I\u2019ll be ready for that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure you will. You\u2019re better than you think you are. Want to pick up the pace a little?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d Starsky would have stopped\u2014if he knew how. Which he didn\u2019t, unless it involved ending up on his ass. \u201cOnly if you want to be running the show by yourself on Monday, on account of me being in the hospital. Or dead.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch started skating faster anyway. \u201cRelax, drama queen. I\u2019m not going to maim or kill you. Not here, anyway.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHa, ha, ha. Maybe we should be opening a comedy club instead.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s try the private security route first. The comedy club can be our backup plan.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

God. Starsky still couldn\u2019t believe it. In just two days, he and Hutch were starting their own business. Two days! Their dream of working together\u2014of being partners in everything\u2014was coming true.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch had resigned from the DEA shortly after the Miller mess, appalled by the lack of support he\u2019d received and concerned that he wouldn\u2019t survive another undercover operation. And because he didn\u2019t need a big paycheck, due to his late grandmother\u2019s generosity, he would have been perfectly happy to be part of the BCPD. But the force had rules forbidding domestic partners\u2014straight or gay\u2014to be work partners. And there was no way in hell he and Starsky were going to lie about their relationship.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the end, Starsky put in a few more months in Bay City, helping out with plain clothes assignments, while Hutch researched the shit out of their employment options until he found one they both felt good about. And they were going to start doing it in 48 hours.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky was scared to death. He was thrilled beyond measure. He was happier than he\u2019d ever been.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo you miss playing?\u201d he asked Hutch.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch patted Starsky\u2019s arm. \u201cYeah, I do. But September will be here in no time and I\u2019ll be back in the crease.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad the team made you an offer when the original goalie moved away.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMe, too.\u201d Hutch squeezed Starsky\u2019s hand. \u201cYou\u2019re thinking about Sam Miller, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you\u2014? Never mind. Yeah. Every time I think of the Blades, I think of Sam.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s going to be okay, Starsk. Not the same as when Joey was alive, but okay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe did the world a huge favor. He shouldn\u2019t have to serve any time for that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure he won\u2019t. His mother hired the best defense team in the country. And he\u2019s got us and his doctors to testify on his behalf. All we can do is wait until the case goes to trial and hope for the best.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI hate waiting.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cReally? I hadn\u2019t noticed that about you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky snorted. \u201cThat\u2019s because you\u2019re not very observant.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you are?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cObviously.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re so clever, Sherlock, why don\u2019t you tell me how long we\u2019ve been skating like this?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSkating like what?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch raised his right hand, which was attached to Starsky\u2019s left one, and offered up a smug little smile. \u201cI told you: you\u2019re better than you think.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd\u2014and you\u2019re one sneaky little\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCareful, Starsk. There are children present.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Including a certain big blond one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStill love me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStill going to watch me play next season?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He did, of course.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because that\u2019s the kind of thing good husbands do.<\/span><\/p>\n

THE END<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Thursday, March 2, 2017 The goalie was a prick. Gorgeous, but still a prick. Okay. Maybe Dave Starsky was being a bit harsh. He\u2019d met Kenny What\u2019s-His-Name only a few hours ago, along with the rest of the team. But … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,12],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-269","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-slash"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/269","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=269"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/269\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":273,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/269\/revisions\/273"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=269"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=269"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=269"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}