December 23rd- A Bay City Christmas Carol by m. butterfly

Author’s Note: for przed, who did the first beta and provided the title; and Flamingo and Cyanne, who still talk to me even though I’m a last-minute pain in the butt. Merry Christmas and love to you all!

“Move, Ebeneezer.” Starsky stood and frowned down at Hutch.

“I’m moving already! Hold your damned horses.” Hutch slid out of the booth so that Starsky could get out without trampling him to death.

“It’s not my horses that need holding,” Starsky mumbled as he charged toward the men’s room.

Hutch settled back into his spot on the padded bench. “What?” he asked the man seated across from him. It was late – very late – and the end of an unbearably long day. They were the only people left at The Pits, which had served its last paying customer nearly an hour ago.

Huggy shook his head slowly. “Do you really hate Christmas that much, or is it just an act you put on to drive Starsky crazy?”

Hutch smiled and took a sip of beer. “As much as I love getting him riled up, the answer is yes. I really hate Christmas that much.”

“Why? And don’t give me all that ‘crass commercialism, religious hypocrisy’ bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. But I’ll admit there are other reasons.”

“Such as?”

Hutch stifled a yawn. “You’re not seeing anyone in particular at the moment, correct?”

“Although it’s hard to believe,” Huggy gave a little toss of his head, “I’m currently on the market.”

“So you know what it’s like. Every time you turn on the TV, or read a paper or a magazine, all you see are ads with loving couples and families and other happy people doing Christmas stuff together. It’s bad enough being alone this time of year, so I don’t appreciate the world rubbing my face in it.”

“You? Alone? You gotta be kidding me.”

“I wake up alone, I go to sleep alone.” Hutch drained the last of his beer. “The times in between don’t count.”

Huggy sat back and folded his bony arms across his bony chest. “I don’t believe this. You do know that denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Here comes your partner, otherwise known as the reason why you’re wallowing in self pity. Let’s ask him.”

Hutch’s face turned crimson. “No!” He was struggling to keep his voice down. “No. Leave him out of this.”

“Leave who out of what?” Starsky asked. He used his hip to nudge Hutch, then plunked himself down and pushed himself into place, forcing Hutch to move into Starsky’s original spot.

Despite the warning glare from Hutch, Huggy clasped his hands together on the table in front of him and leaned toward Starsky. “Blondie here is having a case of the holidays blues.”

“Nah.” Starsky elbowed Hutch playfully in the ribs. “He just hates Christmas.”

“That’s what he says, but he don’t fool me.”

“Huggy,” Hutch growled.

Starsky’s eyes traveled from Huggy to Hutch and back to Huggy again. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. I just want to get out of here.”

But Starsky wasn’t budging. “Uh-uh. I need to know what’s wrong. Hutch? You won’t even look at me, babe.”

Hutch squeezed his eyes and shuddered. “Starsk, please…” He grabbed Starsky’s beer, finished it off in a couple of noisy gulps, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Can we go now?”

“Not until someone tells me why you’re acting so weird all of a sudden.” He poked Hutch again. “You were fine – grumpy as usual, but fine – when I went to the bathroom. What did you say to him, Hug?”

“I merely let him know that I know he’s got a thing for a certain guy – and should own up to it.”

Starsky chuckled, but eyes held no mirth. “I think you’re confused, Hug. Me and Hutch like girls.”

“Yeah, but you and Hutch love each other,” Huggy said. “You’re just too blind or too stupid to see it. Or both. So, me pointing it out to you is my Christmas-slash-Hannukah present. You’re welcome.”

Hutch ran his hand over his face – and left it there. “Goddammit,” he muttered into his palm.

While Starsky just sat there with his mouth hanging open, Huggy dug something out of the front pocket of his jeans and placed it on the table. “Here. This is the spare key to the front door. Make sure you turn off the lights and lock up when you leave.” He rose and gave each of them a long, stern look. “And if you’re gonna have sex tonight, have it anywhere but here.”

“Huggy!” Even in the dim light, Hutch’s face was now visibly red.

Huggy ignored him and started his trek to the exit. “You two oblivious idiots have a lot to talk about. Good night – and good luck.”

“You can’t leave now!” Hutch called after him. “Not after stirring up this – all this…”

But, apparently, he could. And he did.

The bar was uncomfortably quiet with Huggy gone.

Hutch finally broke the silence. “Guess he was half right, huh?”

“Huh?” Starsky shifted is body so he could address Hutch – Hutch’s profile, at least. “Half right?”

“About me. But he was way off base about you.”

Without hesitation, Starsky put his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “One of us must be more tired than I thought because you’re not making sense.”

Hutch sighed but continued to stare straight ahead. “You’re always cheerful, especially this time of year. So, logically, that means you’re okay about being alone. And that you’re perfectly fine with us just being friends.”

“You big, dumb, beautiful blond.” Starsky’s hand slid down Hutch’s tense arm to his wrist and squeezed gently. “Think about it. We spend most of the time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day together, whether we’re seeing someone or not. And my favorite holidays are the ones when it’s just the two of us. Even if you are an old grouch bag and give me crappy presents – or no presents. Nobody in their right mind is happy about being alone, but I’m always happy when I’m with you. And maybe I’ve always been secretly hopeful that we’d become more than just friends one day.”

“So you’re saying–”

“That Huggy’s a pretty observant guy. And I think he could be right about you and me.”

Hutch finally turned to face Starsky, his posture a little straighter. “So now what?”

“Let’s get some sleep, okay? We can talk about this tomorrow, when we’re not so beat.”

Hutch nodded and followed Starsky out of the booth.

“By the way,” Starsky said as he shut off the lights, “there might be something you’re not supposed to see on the dining room table, so no peeking when we get home.”

Hutch stopped walking. “Are we – Am I staying with you tonight?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I know, but this time it’s different. Or could it be. Or–”

“Look. We’re both exhausted, and my place is closer than yours. I’m just being practical.”

That earned some raised eyebrows.

Starsky prodded Hutch out onto the sidewalk so he could lock up. “So, you gonna stand there until the sun comes up, or get in the car?”

“I hope you have the energy to get us home in one piece.”

“I do.” Starsky made a small show of opening the passenger side door. “Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?”

But once Starsky was behind the wheel, he didn’t seem in a hurry to actually drive the Torino anywhere.

“Starsk?” Hutch tapped Starsky’s elbow. “You getting cold feet?”

Starsky’s head whipped to the right. “No. Of course not.” He scooted over and took Hutch’s face in his hands. “I just – I want to try something before we hit the road.” He tilted his head and kissed Hutch – softly at first, then more soundly when Hutch kissed him back.

“Wow,” Hutch whispered, his forehead resting against Starsky’s.

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “We’ll probably just pass out the second we lie down, but I think you should sleep in my bed. With me. If that’s okay with you.”

“It is. More than okay.”

Starsky gave Hutch a quick peck on the lips before letting him go, sliding back to his side, and starting the car. “You know what we need to do tomorrow?”

Hutch reached out and rested his palm atop Starsky’s thigh. “I can think of several things. But what have you got in mind?”

“Besides that.” Starsky was grinning broadly. “We should get something for Huggy. You know. To thank him.”

“That’s a great idea, partner, even though there’s nothing we could get to thank him enough.”

“How about a really nice card that says, ‘We didn’t have sex in your bar’?”

Hutch howled. “I wish I’d thought of that. Love it!”

“Do you think you might love Christmas now?”

“I might hate it a bit less. But at least I love you.”

“Yeah. At least I love you, too.”