December 17th- A Merry Little Christmas by Mvernet

Scroll past the image at the end of the story to see the author’s note. 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
It may be your last
Next year we may all be living in the past

Christmas time in Bay City was a study in contradictions. Jolly bell-ringing Santas in red, short sleeve shirts basked on the sunlit corners of the bustling city. They could be seen taking a break in the shade with a cold can of soda instead of stomping off snowy boots and warming up to a steamy hot chocolate. Snowmen made of Styrofoam graced the front store windows of pricey boutiques instead of decorating the Currier and Ives perfect yards of merry families. Palm trees swayed in the seasonal heat while Christmas firs and spruces for sale, sprayed with fake snow from a can, huddled in the corners of steamy parking lots.

Hutch shivered from the air conditioning and snuggled into his flannel overshirt as he lounged in his favorite booth at Huggy’s. He raised his empty glass of vodka and tonic, twist of lime, high in the air. Hutch blinked twice as the twinkling Christmas lights that decorated the bar reflected in his glass.

“It looks like a glass of Christmas rainbows, Starsk. You’d like that. If you were here… but you’re not.”

Huggy put down his bar towel, waved off his waitress and took charge. “I’ll take care of Blondie tonight, Brooke baby. Looks like he’s goin’ for the record.”

“Sure thing, Huggy. What’s wrong with him anyway? Woman troubles?” The pretty, young waitress was new and found it odd that Huggy Bear had such a soft spot for the pitiful blond cop who always drank alone in a booth for two.

“Boy has partner troubles. As in he lost his partner and he’s in big trouble.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She lifted a hand to her mouth, truly embarrassed. “You mean his cop partner died?”

“Worse. He moved to New York.”

Huggy plastered on a smile and slid into the empty side of the booth across from Hutch. “Hey, my brother. ‘Tis the season. Shouldn’t you be out shopping? Only seven days till old San-tee Claus makes his appearance.”

Hutch looked at his friend with inebriated disgust. “Huggy, you know I hate the com… commer… commercialism of Christmas. I give the Dobeys a gift certificate to Edith’s favorite restaurant and take the kids to a movie. You, I pay our, I mean my tab and share some expensive champagne. I don’t dooooo shopping.”

“What about somethin’ for our man Starsky?”

Hutch leaned forward, his trembling hand clutching his empty glass hard enough to make the spent lime section quiver. “Starsky doesn’t need me in his new life. And I don’t blame him. What happened to him… and then not being able to be my partner on the streets any more — that finished what Gunther’s bullets started. Why should he want to remember his life with me? It brought him nothing but pain and anguish.”

Huggy placed a hand on his friend’s to steady it. “Come on, Hutch. That ain’t true and you know it. When Curly got the word his momma fell and broke her arm, it just made sense to him to start over fresh in New York. You know he was guilty as hell about you putting your life on hold and playin’ nursemaid to him. He wanted to give you your life back.”

Hutch took the glass and threw it against the wall. “I have no life without him! I miss him, Hug. I miss him.” Hutch rested his head on the tabletop drawing his arms in to hide his emotions. Silently, light tremors shook his shoulders.

Huggy looked around at the stunned customers and his wide-eyed waitress. He waved his hand. “Everything’s fine, folks. Just a little holiday blues. Brooke, clean that up, please. Watch yourself with the glass, babygirl.”

Brooke scurried away keeping herself out of the firing range of the drunk cop.

Huggy turned back and ruffled the blond head. “I know, Hutch. I know you miss him. I miss him too. I’ll be right back with some coffee and a sandwich. I need to sober you up. I ain’t sendin’ you home like this, babe, I got a rep to keep up.”

Hutch sat up and stretched out his long legs. He ran his hand over his face, masterfully clearing away any traces of tears and gave Huggy a watery smile. “Okay, thanks, pal.”

Huggy busied himself with the Mr. Coffee behind the bar. He glanced up as a warm blast of December air came in through the door followed by Detective C.J. Simmons who was red in the face, his hands at his side balled into fists. Huggy muttered an, “Uh, oh.” He knew Simmons as a likable jerk with a big mouth and a bigger heart. Without the calming influence of his shorter partner, Detective Herb Babcock, he was trouble waiting to happen.

Huggy watched as his insight payed off. Simmons spotted Hutch almost immediately. He grabbed Hutch by his shirt, dragged him out of the safety of his booth and smashed him against the wall. Hutch didn’t fight back.

Simmons was spitting his words into Hutch’s face. “I take a few days off to visit my dad in Tucson and Babs gets shot? You were supposed to watch his back. Not the other way around. Just help him do some interviews. Maybe follow up a few leads. I told you to keep my partner safe, didn’t I? DIDN”T I? Did you think I was just blowin’ smoke up your ass?”

Hutch took a deep breath and tried to sound sober. “Listen, C.J., I get it. I do. Your partner gets… gets… injured and you want to see heads roll. Herb saved my life. I… I know it. I never meant for him to be in that position. It should have been me that was shot. The doc said it was just a head g-graze. No skull fracture. I stayed with him the whole time, I swear. I…I made sure he stayed awake and got everything he ne-needed. This morning when he was released I told him he could stay with me at my place, but his sister insisted…”

Huggy came up behind Simmons and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look, bro. I’m sorry Babcock got hurt. But you know in your heart of hearts our blond brother would never endanger your partner. You just got back in town? You must be tired. How about I get you a Huggy special and some coffee on the house? You just gotta lay off Hutch, ’cause I don’t think I got any cops left to call.”

Simmons mouth twitched and he deflated. He let Hutch go with a shove towards the booth. “Tell me what happened, Hutch. I’ve been driving all day and I still have to drive out to Lawndale to see Babs at his sister’s place.” He turned to Huggy and added contritely, ”I’ll have a bite before I go. Thanks, Huggy.”

Simmons sat opposite Hutch and folded his arms. “Tell me.”

Thankfully, Brooke arrived with two coffees, a metal creamer, and a hesitant smile.

Hutch smiled up at her, added some sugar to his coffee and stirred it. He gave Simmons a quick look and sighed. “We were on our way back to the station when we got the call. A two-eleven goin’ down at Greenwood Liquor on Sixth. We were right there so we took it. I told Herb to call for backup and stay put. That I would handle it. I went in the front. The perp was about seventeen, strung out, and holding one of those new Glocks. It looked like a plastic toy in his hands. He was shaking.”

Simmons frowned. “Did you ID yourself? Did you have your weapon out?”

Hutch shook his head and stared into space as if seeing the frightened boy again. “No, no… I… he was just a kid. I thought I could maybe talk him down. He was aiming right at my heart. If he fired, I’d be dead. Three shots to the chest…” Hutch’s voice wandered off with his mind reliving the horrific sight of his own partner being gunned down.

Simmons raised his eyebrows, not liking what he was seeing on Hutch’s face. All anger drained out of him and he felt suddenly cold. He grasped at his steaming coffee cup and shared a concerned glance with Huggy. “You wanted that boy to shoot you, didn’t you, Hutch? Babs came in and tackled the guy, My partner got hit instead of you. If Babs hadn’t come in when he did, I’d be gettin’ out my black suit for your funeral. Isn’t that right, Hutch?”

Hutch hung his head and nodded. The only sign he was still breathing was the small movement as his thumb rubbed slowly against the warmth of his mug.

Huggy came up quietly with a Huggy Special and a turkey with sprouts on rye. He stood and listened, chills running up and down his spine. Huggy put the plates of food in front of the two cops, knowing eating was the last thing on their minds.

Simmons shook his head. “Hutch, look at me!” he demanded. Hutch lifted his eyes and both friends were taken back by the emptiness there. “Hutch, you have to get help. We’ll keep this little mishap between the two of us for now. I gotta talk to Babs about how we should handle it. But you have to promise me, Hutch. Don’t take my partner out with you again. I can’t lose him, ya know? I know for a fact that no one will mourn me when I go… except maybe for Babs. But Herb Babcock, he makes a difference in this damn world. I’ll do anything to protect him including asking for your badge.”

Hutch said quietly, “I understand. And I promise, C.J.”

Simmons stood and made his way out of the booth. He eyed his sandwich.

Huggy smiled. “I’ll wrap that up for you.”

Simmons smiled back. “Thanks.” He turned to Hutch and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hutch, I’m sorry I came on so strong. I care about you too, buddy. Things get too much, you call me day or night. Okay?”

Hutch smiled. “Sure, C.J. I know. Thanks.”

After Simmons left. Huggy slid back into the booth. “I’m gonna call Starsky,” Huggy said bluntly.

“No! Huggy I can handle this. Starsky calls me every Tuesday at eight and that’s the way I want it. I won’t allow you to get him upset!”

Huggy grew angry at Hutch’s attitude. ”What do you think Starsky will do if he calls one Tuesday night to find you’ve committed suicide by strung–out doper?”

“Nothing. He’ll do nothing. Because he’ll never know!”

“You can’t keep him in the dark about this. You need him like macaroni needs cheese and he needs you just as bad. Why didn’t you just go with him to New York?”

“He. Never. Asked. Me!” Hutch cried as he stumbled out of the booth and stormed out the door.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Pop that champagne cork
Next year we may all be living in New York

Starsky was surrounded by Starskys and it felt good. There were also quite a few Goldblums and a small tribe of Cohens. Among the younger married cousins, it was a true New York melting pot of various ethnic last names. But to Starsky’s mind, one name belonging to a tall blond Viking was glaringly missing. Hutchinson.

Starsky popped the cork on the champagne. He was playing bartender and butler for his mother as she nursed her broken arm. The clan was celebrating the first night of Hanukkah and the engagement of a young Goldblum and a Chang adding yet another name to the Starsky family United Nations. Starsky’s cheek was sore from all the squeezing it was getting from his elderly aunts.

He glanced at the phone. It was Friday and his weekly call to his partner was days away. He had promised himself to give Hutch plenty of space to start a new life. Hutch was probably studying for his lieutenant’s exam coming up in January. It was a cinch he’d make it without the worry of taking care of his burnt out, disabled partner.

“Oh, God, I miss him,” he sighed quietly. The noise and laughter of the party only made his chest ache from more than slowly healing bullet wounds.

“You missing your Golden Goyim, boychik?” Ruth Starsky became the quintessential Jewish Mother after a few cocktails.

Starsky chuckled as his mother hugged him as best she could with her arm in a sling. “You know I love that blond beauty like a son. So why is it he isn’t here again?”

“Ma, I told you a million times. Hutch had to get on with his life. He was stuck to me like Elmers. I couldn’t sneeze at home without him callin’ me up from the station to say ‘gesundheit.’ It wasn’t right, him givin’ up everything for me. And he wasn’t ever gonna leave me.”

Ruth pushed Starsky gently down into a kitchen chair and sat across from him. “When you were first shot, Davey, Ken called me. That boy told me my son had almost died. He told me what I needed to know, told me he’d make all arrangements, would pay for everything if Nicky and I wanted to come to California. His voice was strong and caring, just what I needed after my shock. Nick was with me that night and he spoke to Ken for a while then he gave the phone back to me to say goodbye. You know what he said to me, Davey?”

Starsky shook his head and swallowed the lump caught in his throat.

“He said, ‘I’m so sorry, Ruth, that it wasn’t me. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him from all this pain. I wish they had shot me and saved all of us this suffering.’”

“Oh, Ma. No.” Starsky reached out across the table and took his mother’s hand in his.

“Yes. I swear on your father’s grave. Then I said, ‘Shame on you, Ken, for wishing such a thing. My son loves you and I love you, and I would never want you to take his place on earth or in heaven. What is done is done and we need to be strong for our Davey.’ I heard that big tough cop start to cry and I soothed him like a child till he stopped. That boy loves you with all his heart and he should be here while you both work out what to do next. What good are partners who are a continent apart?”

“Ma. Hutch doesn’t need to be shackled to someone who can barely walk to the corner without a puff of medicine.”

“And who are you, big shot, to make a decision like that for him? What exactly did he say when you asked him to come live with us?”

Starsky traced the designs on the enamel–topped table like he did when he was a boy and knew the wrath of Ruth was coming soon. “I never asked him to come with me.”

“What?” The petite woman had quite a loud voice when enraged by what she thought was stupidity. Several of the aunts leaned in to find out what was going on.

“Ma. I thought it was best. A clean break, ya know?”

“David Michael Starsky. You broke his heart!”

The aunts began to cluck like a flock of fancy-feathered hens, their whispers as loud as the silver bells on the city street corners.

“What did Davey do?”

“I think he broke someone’s heart.”

“Yes. That nice partner of David’s? The big blond one.”

“That sweet boy who helped Ruth get this brownstone after Nicky got sent to jail?”

“That’s the one. Ken, like the doll.”

“He was a doll. Told me all about where he grew up when he was here that one weekend, ummm. Duluth, Iowa, I think, well, someplace out west anyway.”

“I didn’t know our Davey was gay.”

“You didn’t get a chance to meet Ken. He’d turn anyone.”

“He bought Ruth this brownstone?”

“Oh! Yes. It happened when my Horace called Rose and then Rose told Davey that Ruth’s new landlord was giving her hassles and that a gang had taken over her old neighborhood. We wanted Ruth to move out here to Brooklyn to be near us and my Horace found this brownstone. We’re just round the corner on Avenue M, you know. David’s partner Ken Hutchinson made it happen two weeks later. Horace said he must have paid cash to close the deal so fast and everything is in David’s name, not his own.”

“I love gay men. So supportive.”

“My grandson, Petey, is gay and proud. Maybe Davey could set him up with a nice boy. Does Ken have a brother?”

Ruth suddenly banged her good hand on the table. “What a bunch of old biddies. Everybody out of the kitchen. I need to talk to my son!”

The aunts were not offended, knowing all boys needed a good talkin’ to now and then to keep them on the right path. The flock moved on to the buffet set out in the dining room.

Starsky closed his eyes momentarily and wished not for the first time that he could hear the soothing tones of his partner’s beautiful voice. When Hutch strummed his guitar softly singing Christmas carols for only him, he imagined he could hear the angels join in. Instead of angels, he tried to tune out the rapid fire, in your face, loudness of his she-devil of a mother on a rant.

Ruth banged on the table again, making the snowmen salt and pepper shakers quake with fear. “David! How could you? You never even asked him? That young man thinks you make the sun shine and the stars twinkle. He loves you and you love him. When are you going to admit that to yourself and claim your prize?”

“Ma! You don’t understand. Hutch ain’t no prize to be won. He’s my best buddy, my partner. He’s more a brother to me than Nicky ever was. That’s why I gotta do what’s right by him.”

“I don’t understand? I understand plenty. When you were shot and Nicky and I arrived in California, Ken took charge. He had a talk with Nicky, God bless him. Tried to straighten your brother out for your sake. Nicky behaved for quite a while after that talk, even though Nicky ended up in trouble again and got sent to jail. I think whatever they talked about might have saved his life. You were so sick with a fever after you were shot, I’m not even sure you knew I was there with you. Your Ken looked after me like I was a queen. That boy never left your side except for cop business or takin’ care of me and Nicky. He told me he loved you more than life. He told me you were his life. I saw the truth in his eyes, David. That boy loves you and wants you desperately.”

“Ma!”

“Don’t ‘Ma’ me! I know a thing or two about love. It can hit ya like a sun shower or a hurricane, but either way, you can’t escape gettin’ wet. You and Ken definitely have a hurricane kind of love, devastating, leavin’ wreckage in its wake. But the thing about hurricanes is after all that blowin’, the sun eventually comes out and the world is changed, the air is fresh and purified. Time to take Ken in from the storm, son.”

Starsky ran a hand over his face. He knew his Ma was right. He was kidding himself thinking he could get over his deep feelings for Hutch. Feelings he never thought he would act upon. Hutch was a part of his very soul and he had made a big mistake. Wherever he needed to go, he needed his partner by his side.

Starsky smiled and took his mother’s hand and gently squeezed her small arthritic fingers. “When’d ya get so smart, Ma?”

“You just noticed this now?” She pinched her handsome son’s cheek.

No good times like the olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were dear to us
Will be near to us no more

Hutch walked for two miles in the warm December evening after he stormed out of Huggy’s. His muzzy mind took in the sounds and sights of Christmas in Bay City. His senses were assaulted by the bustling crowd and the multi-colored lights. He watched an elf with pointy ears and green tights light up a cigarette as he leaned against the red brick wall of a department store. The seven vodka and tonics he had made him clumsier than usual. He didn’t respond to the people he jostled as they cursed at him when their holiday packages fell to the grimy sidewalk. After a while, he sobered up enough to figure out where he was and where he wanted to go. Hutch waved wildly as he hailed a cab.

Hutch sat at his old desk at Metro, where he had sat across from Starsky for so many years. The squad room was empty and dimly lit by the emergency lights in the deserted hall. A new team of rookie detectives now claimed the face-to-face partner desks, while Hutch was delegated to the lone one near the window. The rest of the squad looked at it as a place of honor and respect. Hutch could only see a place where he didn’t quite belong any more. How could anyone be at the top of his game when he only had half a heart?

He placed his gun, shield, and letter of resignation on the newbie’s blotter. He held back a sigh as he examined the framed photos displayed proudly on the edge of the desk. The guy was married, with two kids and a dog. He looked about sixteen and made Hutch feel like a has-been cop, worn down to the bone by the streets. The kind of cop Starsky and Hutch had sworn never to become. Hutch smiled at the empty chair across from him, memories like a slide show playing in his mind. Starsky’s expressive face starred in every one.

Hey! Hutch! Wanna go see The Rocky Horror Picture Show? We could dress up and squirt people with water pistols. You’d like that. It’s obnoxious.

Hey! Hutch! Lend me ten bucks will ya? My pet rock needs a partner. I’ll name him after you. You have similar qualities.

Hey! Hutch! When we get too old for the streets, let’s start a business together. You got the smarts; I’ve got the talent. We could make somethin’ beautiful happen.

Hey! Hutch! Lookie! I got some ping-pong paddles and a ball. Wanna play me? I’ll make it worth your while.

Hutch leaned back in his chair battling with the tears threatening to fall. He closed his eyes and spoke softly, his words echoing around the quiet room. “Ahhh, Starsk. I can’t do this anymore. Why does love hurt so damn much?”

Hutch picked up his Magnum. It felt like an old friend in his shaking hand. “Happy Holidays.” Hutch didn’t expect the weapon to return the sentiment.

But at least we all will be together
If the Lord allows
From now on, we’ll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Starsky picked up the extension in his mother’s room to try to get some privacy. As soon as his Uncle Horace had said, “David, it’s for you. A cop from Bay City,” Starsky’s heart raced up to his throat. He could tell something was wrong. He picked up the old black rotary and jumped on the bed.

He said breathlessly into the receiver, “Starsky, here.”

“Starsky! Great to hear your voice, buddy. This is Herb Babcock. Happy Holidays!”

“Same to you, Herb! Sorry about the noise. My ahhh, family is having a little get together for Hanukkah. It’s kinda nice to hear a Californian accent. Imagine a whole house full of Starskys.”

“Hey! You want to give me nightmares?“

“How’s C.J.?”

“He’s great, Starsky. He’s here actually. I’m at my sister’s house. He’s a bit of an overprotective brother-hen at the moment. I had a little… scuffle on the job. Two-eleven in progress. Kid with a new gun. I almost ended up with a permanent part in my hair.”

“Jeez, Herb! You got shot? How bad? You said you’re at your sister’s?”

“It was just a scratch, Starsky. Honest. I’m good, thanks.”

“Is something wrong, Herb? Why’d ya call me if ya got old Simmons there? Do ya need somethin’? Can I do anything for you guys?”

“Well, here’s the thing, Starsky. C.J. wasn’t with me when I got shot. Hutch was.”

“What? Oh, no. God, Herb! Was he hurt?”

“No! No, no, Starsky. He wasn’t hurt. But…”

“But?”

“He was reckless, buddy. Too reckless for me to just let it go. Since you left, he’s been like a zombie. Just going through the motions till it’s time to hit the bar. I’m sorry to tell you this, but I think he wanted that kid to shoot him. If I hadn’t jumped the kid, he would have been dead. I think he needs to get off the streets for a while. And I think that suggestion would be better coming from you.”

“God, Herb. Thanks for telling me. Are you gonna report him?”

“I wanted to give you a chance to talk to him first. I’ll do whatever you say, Starsky. Just let me know.”

“Sure, Herb. I’m glad you’re okay. Give that big lug of a partner of yours a Christmas hug for me, huh?”

“Good idea. Maybe that will calm him down. I’m about ready to cuff him to the Christmas tree and head out to Huggy’s for a cold one. C.J. said Hutch was at Huggy’s place earlier drowning his sorrows. Maybe you can catch him there.”

“Thanks, Herb. Take care.”

“Bye, Starsky. Happy Hanukkah.”

Starsky flicked the cradle button till he heard a dial tone, then carefully dialed Huggy’s number. His lengthy conversation with his worried pal, Huggy, just reaffirmed what Babcock had suggested. Hutch was in deep trouble. Starsky couldn’t wait till the morning to catch Hutch at home. Hutch needed him now. Starsky dialed the airport.

Uncle Horace dropped Starsky off at the Kennedy airport departure area and wished him Godspeed. He shook his head at the impetuousness of youth. But Ruth had okayed her son’s sudden departure so Horace was more than willing to give a ride to his hero nephew.

Starsky waved his uncle off and headed inside. He was on standby for a flight to Bay City, the holiday rush making it impossible to get a reserved seat. He prayed he wouldn’t be too late and that Hutch would be safe till he got to him. Got to him and had a long overdue discussion. It was going to be a long, long night.

It was after midnight and Starsky was stretching his legs. His injuries didn’t bother him that much anymore, but hours at an airport lounge waiting to be allowed on a flight had taken its toll on his body. He was drawn to a small bagel place by the aroma of coffee and cinnamon raisin bagels. As he left the store juggling his duffel bag and culinary delights, his droopy eyes closed for just a second as he savored that first sip of fresh, roasted coffee. He almost scalded a tall man who bumped into him while making a beeline for the taxi stand.

“Whoa, there. cowboy. Or you’re gonna be buyin’ me another breakfast.”

“Starsky?”

“Hutch?”

The partners stared at each other speechless for a moment. Then Hutch shook his head and gave Starsky a hug, as Starsky chuckled and tried not to drop his bagel or spill his coffee on his Blond Blintz. He felt the soft hint of a kiss against his ear.

Starsky hugged back as best he could. “Hutch what are you doin’ here? I was just about to board a plane for Bay City and come lookin’ for you!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You dumb Blondie. I’ve been worried sick. Nobody knew for sure where you were. Don’t tell me you just got off a plane comin’ to see me!”

“Well, yeah, Starsk. Is… is that okay? I just… I couldn’t… I… Wait. You were coming to see me? Why?”

Starsky took a good look at his best friend. He had lost weight and was paler than pale with dark circles under his eyes. His eyes had that dull grey color they got when Hutch was sick or depressed. Starsky felt his heart clench in his chest. What was wrong with his Hutch?

“Hutch. Let’s go sit in the passenger lounge for your flight. It’s deserted just now.”

“Okay, Starsk.”

Hutch walked in front of Starsky, head down and shoulders slumped. The overnight bag slung on his shoulder made it seem like he was carrying the weight of the world. Babcock’s warning that Hutch was like a zombie popped into Starsky’s head. Hutch settled into a plastic seat fastened securely to a metal bar. Starsky picked a seat next to Hutch with a table attached and lay down his burdens.

“Ya want coffee and a bagel? I’ll buy.” Hutch shook his head; a nervous smile flitted across his lips. Starsky noted it and asked, “Did ya eat on the plane?”

“Not hungry, Starsky.”

Starsky shook his head and blew into the little hole in the lid of his paper cup making a whistling sound. He sipped his brew while watching Hutch twitch with nerves. Starsky felt again the need to reach his partner. He placed a hand on Hutch’s knee and was surprised when he jumped. “Hutch, babe. Why are you here?”

Hutch shrugged. “I… I was… I… I needed to… get away for a while. You know how much I ‘love’ the holidays. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’ll stay at a hotel…”

“Heeey, Hutch. Take it easy. I’m over the moon that you’re here!” Starsky chuckled, “We almost missed each other; must be a Christmas airport miracle or somethin’”

Hutch took a deep breath and a puzzled frown settled on his face. “Or somethin’. You were heading to Bay City, Starsk? To see me? Why?”

Starsky blew lightly on his coffee again, then offered it to Hutch. Hutch took the cup and sipped automatically. He smiled realizing what he had done.

“Hutch, Babcock called me last night and I called Huggy lookin’ for you. I gotta tell ya, Blondie. Your friends are worried about you.”

Hutch sighed and leaned forward in the immovable seat. He hung his head for a moment. Then hit Starsky with a glance of stormy blue eyes. “My friends? What about my best friend? Why this sudden… interest, Starsk? What do you care if your old has-been of a partner is letting his inner demons run wild on the street? What do you care if I’m hurting so bad I… Shit, I never should have come. Just go home to your family, Starsk. The holidays are for family, anyway. There is no merry Christmas for a cynical, beaten down, ex-cop who makes Scrooge look like a happy Christmas elf.”

Hutch stood and began walking backwards, pushing at the air with his hands.

Starsky was on his feet in a New York second. He grabbed at Hutch’s arms to stop his momentum. “Whoa, there, partner! What is all this crap? Where do you get this ‘I don’t care about you,’ malarkey?”

Hutch stilled, his mouth forming a snarl. “Look where we are. Your home. Your city. Three thousand miles away from your past life. Three thousand miles away from me.” Hutch grasped Starsky’s arms desperately. His voice wavered with emotion. “Why, Starsk? Why didn’t you ask me to come with you? Don’t you know I would have followed you anywhere? How… how could you have left me behind?”

Starsky’s heart broke as he looked at the shattered man before him. Guilt and fear warred for top position in his mind. He had made a tragic mistake and Hutch had paid dearly for it. He kicked his own ass mentally. He did this to his friend and he would make it right.

“Listen to me, babe. I was wrong. I was so wrong. I thought you’d be betta off without me draggin’ you down. I wanted you to go on and become a lieutenant, maybe captain someday. Find somebody special, settle down. I never meant to… Hey! Wait a sec. Did you say ex-cop before?”

Hutch pulled away from Starsky’s grasp. He let a small smirk travel across his lips and nodded. “Last night, I left my badge and my resignation on my old desk.”

“Aww, Hutch, I’m so sorry you went through all this alone. Is it because Babcock was shot?”

Hutch glanced up but couldn’t hold Starsky’s intense gaze. “It was a lot of things, Starsk. I wrote my reasons out on my resignation. It was like I was summing up my reason for existence with four lines in a little black box on a form. When I signed it, my existence seemed meaningless.”

Starsky felt a chill as if a window had been opened on a frosty winter’s day. He tried to deny the desperation in Hutch’s tone, but couldn’t. He knew his partner too well. Starsky cautiously came closer and began slowly rubbing Hutch’s shoulders. Hutch seemed to deflate under his touch.

“Hutch, you didn’t mention handin’ in your gun…”

“That’s because I wasn’t done with it. I took it on a nice walk down by my old canal house. Remember the whitewashed wooden bridge near my place?”

“Sure, babe. I remember. We used to go there and talk about the future while we fed the ducks Huggy’s stale rolls.” Starsky moved closer and took Hutch’s hands in his.

“Well, I sat on the edge of the bridge with my gun in my hand and thought about reasons to keep living. I ticked off a few in my head. Family? I don’t really have that. Career? What good was I if I kept getting my partners shot? Love? That’s what saved me after all. I tried but I couldn’t deny that I had love. There was one person in the whole world that I loved more than life itself. That was you, Starsk. I dropped my Magnum into the canal and headed for the airport. I love you, Starsk. And I had to let you know.”

Starsky pulled Hutch close and gently pressed the blond head against his shoulder. He ran his fingers through the silk and Hutch sighed, finally at peace. “I love you, too, you big blond dummy. I never meant to hurt you, Hutch. You’ll be okay now? You’ll come home with me and we’ll work things out?”

Hutch nodded.

Starsky pushed them apart just enough to look into Hutch’s eyes. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Hutch. Don’t ever let it get that bad again without telling me.”

Again Hutch nodded. “Don’t ever leave me again, Starsk.”

The answer to that plea was a kiss. Starsky and Hutch, friends and partners, stood in the middle of a busy airport a few days before Christmas, oblivious to the hustle and bustle. They kissed as families reunited with noisy greetings and boisterous laughter. They kissed as social activists handed out leaflets of hope for mankind. They kissed as a lone saxophone player bobbed his instrument in thanks for harried traveler’s spare change hurriedly tossed into his fedora. A plaintive melody filled the air with Christmas magic.

So have yourself a merry little Christmas, now.

Author’s Note:

A Merry Little Christmas– A Christmas Carol for Betas Everywhere

I was searching for a Christmas song that I thought would fit Starsky and Hutch. I love old musicals and I thought of this little gem, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. A bittersweet number that would fit Hutch’s humbug attitude and Starsky’s reasonably merry one. So of course, I had to research the song. Reading the lyrics, I was puzzled because the words were different from the WW11 version that I knew and loved.

The original lyrics were written by Hugh Martin for the Judy Garland film Meet Me In St. Louis. The basic story line was that Judy was one of the children of an early 1900’s St. Louis banker who had been asked to move to New York. It meant a big promotion, but also meant uprooting his happy family just when the World’s Fair was coming to St. Louis. The song taken out of context was such a downer (although it fit the movie perfectly) that Judy Garland asked Martin to re-write it because it was too depressing. Judy’s version is still bittersweet, and was adopted by the soldiers fighting in WW11. There wasn’t a dry eye in the entire USO each time it was performed.

In 1957, Frank Sinatra asked Martin to “Jolly it up a little,” so Frank could put it on his album A Jolly Little Christmas — an offer Martin couldn’t refuse. This version is the one played on the radio most of the time.

But poor Martin couldn’t just retire and gather his royalties in peace. In 2001, he was asked by a gospel singer to change the lyrics to include the mention of the Lord instead of “if the fates allow.”

The irony not lost on him, Martin approved the change saying that was the way he originally penned it anyway. Thankfully, no one ever asked him to change the hauntingly beautiful music he composed.

Reading the totally depressing version of this song and the image of Judy Garland as the mother of all betas put a holiday smile on my face. We’ve all been there with our own writing. Thank the fates and the Lord for our beautiful betas!

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas- Original lyrics by Hugh Martin as written for the movie, Meet Me In St. Louis

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
It may be your last
Next year we may all be living in the past

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Pop that champagne cork
Next year we may all be living in New York

No good times like the olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were dear to us
Will be near to us no more

 But at least we all will be together
If the Lord allows
From now on, we’ll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now