It was a dark and stormy night. Well, as stormy as Southern California gets in December. It was December 24^th to be exact, and while the weather outside wasn’t exactly frightful, it was rather nippy with a slight breeze off the nearby Pacific.

On the street outside of Venice Place, the last of the Christmas Eve partygoers were heading home and calling out overused holiday greetings to each other. In a few minutes, the doors to Chez Helene would lock for the night and blessed silence would fall over the building. At least, that’s what the lone remaining occupant of the building sincerely hoped. Up in the apartment over the restaurant, that occupant was currently curled up in a ball on his bed, practically every blanket in the house covering him, and he was still cold.

Poking his head out from under the layers of covers, Hutch squinted to bring the bedside clock into focus. Upon seeing it was just after eleven, he relaxed a little. His partner should be arriving soon to fuss over him as he’d been doing every night for the past three days. This was the fourth and hopefully last day of having what Hutch had been referring to as the never-ending flu.

“Twenty-four hours my ass,” he muttered irritably. “Whoever named it that needs to stop by so I can give them a little present.”

Hutch groaned and pulled the blankets over his head again. Damn. It was the night before Christmas and while he had a decorated tree, courtesy of his Jewish, Christmas loving partner, it was completely bare underneath. He’d fully intended to do actual shopping this year, but case after case had left him with no time to go off on his own to do so.

When they finally had gotten a day off, Hutch had begun that morning feeling like he’d died and forgotten to be buried and it went downhill from there. He stayed in bed most of that day, wishing his partner would show up, but steadfastly refused to call him to make the request. After all, he was a grown man, a tough cop, and someone who did not need to be fussed over while sick. So, after a day of trying and failing to keep down water, and not even thinking about food, Hutch had resigned himself to riding it out on his own.

What he hadn’t realized was that while he was sleeping with his head buried under the blankets, Starsky had tried calling multiple times throughout the day to see if Hutch wanted to double date that night. After all of the calls went unanswered, an uneasy feeling had begun to take hold, blossoming into a full-blown panic around sundown. Shortly thereafter, Hutch had been pulled from his cocoon, changed into clean sleepwear, dosed with Tylenol and tucked back into a freshly made bed. Still feeling like crap, he’d drifted off to sleep with a content smile and the warm feeling of being fussed over.

A creaking sound and soft footfalls dragged Hutch from his memories and he glanced at the bedside clock again. Starsky was a little early. While Hutch was out sick, Dobey had assigned the leftover partner a three to eleven shift, telling him the later hours would ensure the quiet Starsky needed to catch up on all of the reports the duo had generated over the previous week. They both suspected ulterior motives behind that as it left Starsky with all of the morning and most of the afternoon to be with his friend and still got him back to Venice in time for a full night’s sleep.

Hutch waited for a few minutes and Starsky didn’t appear. Maybe he hadn’t heard his partner after all. He’d no sooner had the thought when there was another creak from the loose floorboard by the living room window and a soft rustle of paper. Ah, so that was it. Detective Sneaky Starsky was messing around by the Christmas tree. Very quietly, Hutch pushed off the blankets and dragged his aching body from the warm bed. His socked feet made no noise as he carefully crept from the sleeping alcove and peeked around the privacy screen to spy on his friend. Strings of multicolored tree lights cast the room in shadow and it took a moment for Hutch to locate the lone figure that was busily stuffing items into the stockings that had been tacked up on the wall.

Hutch stepped out from behind the screen and crossed over a few steps to stand behind the sofa. “Ha, caught ya,” he laughed, startling his partner into dropping a handful of candy.

As a few jawbreakers bounced across the hardwood floor, the figure turned and Hutch’s eyes went wide. With a speed far exceeding his current physical condition, he spun around and dove for his holster which was hanging from the back of a nearby chair. Rolling to a crouched position, the Magnum securely in his hand, Hutch yelled, “Freeze, Police!” and trained the weapon where the strange man, and not his partner, had been standing just moments before.

Hutch swung his head around, the gun following his movements, as he quickly searched for the intruder. The man was still in the apartment since he hadn’t gone past Hutch to get out the front door and only exit, so where was he? From his vantage point, Hutch could see the whole of his apartment. He turned his head and eyed the greenhouse. Of course. Anyone who came by assumed that was an exit to the rear, but Hutch had blocked that off long ago to make room for more plants. With a feral grin, Hutch came out of his crouch and started to stand, only to duck back down when the doorknob behind him started to turn and the front door opened.

There could have been a lot of things Starsky expected to see when he entered his partner’s home that night, but being met with said partners Magnum pointed at his head was not one of them.

“Shit, Hutch, it’s me!” Starsky called out as he dove to the left and hid behind an end table.

Hutch instantly flicked his wrist so the weapon pointed to the ceiling and took his finger off of the trigger in the same movement. “Damn it, Starsky,” Hutch hissed, his raw throat making the expletive even more gritty than normal. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Hutch lowered the gun as Starsky emerged from his hiding place and stood up, reaching for the lamp beside him. A moment later they were both squinting as bright light flooded the room.

“How did you get back out there?” Hutch demanded, still a bit suspicious that it had been Starsky by the tree.

Starsky looked at the disheveled blond and took a moment to catch his breath. “What do you mean, ‘back out there’?” He asked as his heart resumed a steady rhythm. “I just got here.”

Hutch stared at him, seeing clear confusion and a little bit of concern. “You weren’t just in here fooling around by the Christmas tree?”

Starsky was instantly on alert, his left hand automatically drawing his Beretta as Hutch reasserted his grip on the Magnum. “There was somebody in here?” Starsky lowered his voice as he looked around the room.

Both men looked at the greenhouse then at each other before moving as one toward it. As they got closer, Starsky asked in a hushed whisper if Hutch recognized the man.

“Big guy,” Hutch whispered back as the pair crept closer to the back door. “Red pants, red jacket, red hat.”

Starsky stopped dead in his tracks and straightened up, his gun hand dropping to his side. “What?” He demanded in a loud voice, hoping he’d misheard.

“Shhh!” Hutch hissed, grabbing Starsky’s arm and trying to pull him back down into a smaller target. “We need to get the jump on him.”

Starsky pulled his arm free, jammed the Beretta back in its holster, then grabbed Hutch by the shoulders. “Look at me,” Starsky demanded when Hutch wouldn’t take his eyes off the greenhouse. Two pair of blue eyes met, one full of concern, the other fever-bright and intense. “Tell me again who you saw.”

Hutch hesitated, his brain finally catching up to what he’d said. “Um…big guy with a red hat, jacket, and pants.” He ducked his head and looked down at his weapon.

Starsky let out a huge sigh, somewhere between relief and irritation. “Did this guy have a white beard and a big belly that jiggled like a bowl full of jelly?”

Hutch’s flushed cheeked burned brighter and he refused to look up. “I guess he might have,” Hutch mumbled. “I only saw him for a second.”

Starsky bit the inside of his cheek to suppress the laugh that was trying to force its way out. The urge to mercilessly tease his normally level-headed partner was strong, but his protective nature was stronger. He stood, pulling his partner up with him and getting his first really good look at the man.

“You look terrible,” Starsky announced.

Pale, sweaty, and a little unstable on his feet, Hutch felt what little energy he’d had from the adrenalin rush start to fade. He didn’t resist when he was relieved of his weapon, watching as it was returned to the holster on the chair. Knowing it was a long shot, but unwilling to completely admit he was wrong yet, Hutch made a hesitant request.

“Check the greenhouse, okay, Starsk?”

Starsky turned from restoring the weapon to its home and studied his partner. Dressed in his dark blue BCP Academy sweats and white socks, his sick friend looked like a little boy who had just been told Santa didn’t exist.

With an exaggerated sigh, Starsky once again drew his gun and headed for the greenhouse, stopping Hutch in his tracks with one look as the aforementioned sick man tried to follow. “I’ll check, you stay.”

Unwilling to argue when he was about to get his way, Hutch remained where he was as Starsky quietly made his way to the next room. With a deep breath and one quick look back to make sure Hutch hadn’t followed, Starsky burst through the door of the greenhouse and dropped into a crouch as he quickly looked around. It only took a moment to confirm what he already knew.

“All clear!” He stood and returned his weapon to the holster for what he hoped to be the last time that night.

Hutch came forward and looked in, seeing everything just as he’d left it the last time he was there. Dropping his head down, he stared at his feet for a moment, then gave his friend a sheepish, sidelong look. “Sorry.”

Starsky finally let out the pent up laugh and pulled Hutch into a one-armed hug before leading him back into the apartment.

“Well, you’re a little old to be imagining Santa on Christmas Eve, but I’ll let this go since you are clearly out of your mind or sleepwalking,” Starsky offered. With his right arm still around his best friend, he maneuvered Hutch back to the alcove.

Now that the thrill of the short, almost non-existent chase was over, Hutch was back to freezing and feeing miserable. He stood his friend suppressing a yawn while Starsky yanked the jumbled pile of blankets from the bed and remade it. After making a show of fluffing the pillows, he looked at Hutch and pointed to the bed, the order unmistakable.

As Hutch sank gratefully into the inviting warmth, he opened his mouth to speak, only to have a thermometer shoved into it.

“No talking,” Starsky instructed as he tucked the blankets all around the long body until only a blond head stuck out.

“Um rere ary uh ulled ey un un oo,” Hutch said sincerely around the thermometer.

Starsky stared at him for a moment, his brow knit in concentration as he translated ‘I’m really sorry I pulled my gun on you’.

“Don’t worry about it, Blintz. No way you were gonna shoot me.” Apology offered and accepted. Starsky waited another minute before removing the glass tube and checking the results. “Temp is down to 100 even. I’ll bet you’re normal tomorrow.” He shook it out and set it on the nightstand. “Well, normal for you, anyway.” When no sarcastic response was forthcoming, he looked down to find Hutch sound asleep. Silently cheering that accomplishment, he tiptoed away from the bed.

 

Ten minutes later found Starsky fresh from the shower and making up the couch with the one blanket Hutch hadn’t gotten his hands on. He was about to turn off the light and get to sleep when he suddenly remembered something. With a quick glance toward the alcove where Hutch slept, he hurried to the door and carefully opened it. Reaching out one hand, he snagged the handles of a paper shopping bag and pulled it into the apartment, silently closing and locking the door behind him.

Starsky was rather pleased with his shopping results, even if the time to do it had come at the expense of his partner’s health. The way their schedule had been going, if Hutch hadn’t gotten sick there was no way Starsky would have found the time to get everything done.

Hauling his bag over to the tree, he got down on his knees to arrange his gifts for Hutch and was pulled up short when he got a good look underneath. A dozen or so brightly wrapped packages peeked out from under the branches. Puzzled, Starsky pulled one out and looked at the gift tag, his heart swelling with joy when he spotted his name. Resisting the urge to shake it, he put the present back and started poking around at the others. One by one he liberated the gifts from under the tree, checked the tag, and then put them back exactly as they’d been found. There turned out to be fourteen presents with the majority going to Starsky, then one each for their assorted close friends.

“I knew you had it in you ya big softie,” Starsky mumbled, thinking of his sleeping partner. Now anxious to get to sleep so Christmas morning would come faster, he quickly emptied his own bag of gifts and added them to the pile under the tree.

As he carefully placed the last present he chuckled to himself. The package contained a pocket knife that closely resembled one Hutch had asked for, and was forbidden to have, as a child. In that spirit, Starsky had made the tag out “To: Kenny, From: Santa”.

Pleased with himself, Starsky turned off the lamp beside the couch and settled in to sleep. Thinking about Hutch’s imaginary encounter with Santa, and the gift tag on the pocket knife, Starsky found himself laughing quietly to himself, content in the knowledge that the next morning would bring a big surprise.

As he drifted off to sleep, he missed a chuckle and a soft ‘Ho Ho Ho’ from somewhere outside. A big surprise indeed.

Torino Sleigh by Flamingo

Note: This story is a sequel to Angel in the Snow by Nicky Gabriel.

Long live all the mountains we moved
I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you
I was screaming, long live the look on your face
And bring on all the pretenders,
One day we will be remembered
Taylor Swift, Long Live

Duluth, 1981

Hutch hadn’t felt so happy in months. As Starsky and he were heading back to Hutch’s grandmother’s home after their evening walk it started to snow, and it didn’t take long before they were both covered in a thick layer of fluffy white. At the end they were both freezing – Starsky complaining loudly about the weather – but Hutch was smiling. Inside he felt only a nice, pleasant warmth.

As they walked back, Hutch couldn’t miss seeing how tired Starsky was. Not only had he traveled all night to get to Hutch’s grandmother’s funeral in Minnesota, but he’d also kept Hutch company all during the day without even a moment to rest. No wonder he was exhausted. Hutch knew he should feel guilty about causing his friend so much stress and trouble, but he was too grateful that he didn’t have to be alone right now.

And maybe never again? he thought cheerfully,

While Starsky took a shower, Hutch set the fire in the living room fireplace and then went downstairs to claim that bathroom. Climbing the stairs after a quick visit to his grandmother’s library, he remembered Starsky’s words and reassurance.

Hutch sat on the large and comfortable sofa in the living room and opened a book he’d picked up from Elsa’s table, but Starsky choose that moment to leave the bathroom, already dressed for bed, wearing a dark blue shirt and white shorts.

He leaned against the doorframe and smiled. “I see you’ve found company for tonight,” he said, drying his hair.

Hutch looked up from the book and put it aside on the table, next to a newspaper that his father must have left the day before. “I’m sure you can find something suitable for yourself as well. Elsa has… had an impressive collection here.”

Starsky cast the towel over the chair standing next to the fireplace and slumped next to Hutch. He lifted the book and read the title.

“The Nirads by Elsa Hutchinson.” Starsky looked at the back cover. “Isn’t that your grandmother?” He nodded toward the picture, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes. It’s my Christmas gift,” Hutch explained, the sensation of loss still overwhelming. “I found it downstairs. She didn’t have time to send it to me.”

Starsky reached out and squeezed his wrist gently, rubbing his thumb over the inside of Hutch’s hand. “You never said she was a writer.”

Hutch turned over his hand, so they touched palm to palm and shook his head. “She wasn’t, but Elsa loved telling these stories. Viking tales, dragons, battles, Ragnarok, soulmate warriors. Dad wanted her to put it all on paper for really long time, and I see he finally succeeded.”

Starsky read the summary and pointed at the picture on the back cover. “Who’s that?”

In the picture, Elsa Hutchinson was sitting in an armchair and on the armrest next to her he could see a young man with dark hair.

“It’s Erik Thorn,” Hutch said with a smile. “We went to school together.”

“A friend?”

“Yes, we were friends. He works for the local museum now, and it looks like he was Elsa’s editor. It says that the museum was the publishing house for the story.”

Starsky looked at the picture for a while, but then put the book aside. “Move your butt; you’re taking over the entire couch and I’m tired.”

“How about bed?” Hutch suggested.

“’m not sleepy, just tired.”

Hutch shifted, leaning against the pillow.

“So? What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Starsky asked when he found a comfortable position with his back against Hutch’s chest.

Hutch thought about the answer, because in the last few days so much had happened, he’d lost track of some things. “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.” He put his arm around Starsky and held him close. “So we’ll have dinner with my father and maybe some other relatives. I don’t know who else he invited.”

“I don’t think he invited anybody else.” Starsky turned his head, so he could look at him. “He didn’t know you were going to be here, so he most probably had been invited for dinner himself by some relatives.”

Hutch hadn’t considered this option.

Starsky reached for the local newspaper that was lying on the table when the phone rang.

Hutch picked it up. “Yeah?”

“I see you’re back already?” His father’s voice sounded amused.

Hutch smiled and threaded his fingers into Starsky’s hair – still somewhat wet – and rested his cheek against his head. He wanted to keep this moment forever.

“We had a long walk by the lake,” he admitted, knowing his father could see the lights in the watermill from his bedroom window.

“I thought so.”

“I want to thank you for bringing Starsky here.” Hutch said gratefully. Neither of them could afford the ticket in their current financial situation.

“That’s the least I could do, Ken.”

“It means more than you think,” Hutch whispered, feeling a lump in his throat.

“You don’t know what I think,” Richard said in a low voice.

Hutch sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” There was a pause that didn’t feel uncomfortable though. “Did you talk to Jane?”

“Yes. We met yesterday.”

Starsky put the newspaper away and shifted so he was facing Hutch now, lying on his chest.

“And?” Richard asked curiously.

“We talked about good old times.” Hutch held Starsky’s gaze.

“Are there going to be any new times?” Richard sounded as if he knew the answer.

“Afraid not.” Hutch answered without much regret.

“More proof I’m always right,” Richard confirmed.

“I won’t argue that. Are you working tomorrow?” The hospitals never had holidays.

Starsky rested his head on Hutch’s chest and closed his eyes.

“No.” Richard answered.

“How about breakfast?” Hutch offered. “At seven?”

“Come on, Ken. You’re not going to wake David up at such an ungodly hour?”

Starsky giggled.

“Okay, eight?” Hutch pulled at his hair gently.

“Eight-thirty.”

“I’ll starve until eight-thirty,” Hutch protested. “But okay.”

Starsky nodded approvingly, brushing his cheek over Hutch’s fuzzy shirt.

“Ken, you get up at six every day for your morning run and in California it will be six, so stop complaining.”

“Okay, I’m shutting up.”

“Good night, son.”

“Good night, Dad.”

Hutch put the receiver back and sighed deeply. He knew his back would kill him in the morning but he could stay here for the rest of his life. Trapped in a perfect moment.

“Is it very wrong to feel jealous?” Starsky asked quietly.

“Of what?”

“I miss my Dad.” Starsky moved up and buried his face in the crook of Hutch’s neck.

“Starsk.” Hutch felt as if his heart was breaking. “You can borrow mine anytime you wish,” he whispered.

Knowing Starsky’s aversion to soapy scenes, he expected some flippant comment, but all Starsky said was, “Thank you.” And a moment later with a yawn, “I’m sure I could sleep until noon tomorrow.”

Hutch still didn’t feel guilty about the reason. “I’m not surprised.”

Starsky glanced at his watch and winced incredibly. It was long past midnight.

“What time do you have to be at the reading of the will?” he asked.

Hutch looked at him surprised. “You wanna go?”

Starsky shifted uncomfortably. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“It’s at ten,” Hutch answered quickly. He hadn’t dared hope that Starsky would go with him, but Hutch needed him there more than he was willing to admit. “It’s Christmas Eve, pal,” Hutch explained. “But I’m glad they didn’t want to wait to have the reading until after the holidays.”

“I know.” Starsky reached for the book. “Will you read me one of the stories?”

Hutch laced his fingers into Starsky’s hair, pulling him closer. “Sure I will, babe.”

***

Hutch woke up with Starsky’s head on his shoulder. It was still dark outside and the room was cold, but Starsky was a source of pleasant warmth that soaked deep under Hutch’s skin.

Starsky fell asleep in the middle of a story about the beginning of the world according to the Nirads, but Hutch couldn’t sleep until late after midnight. And when he finally did, he dreamt about fire, dragons and redheaded goddesses. The dream left him with unsettled feelings of forbidding danger; the unfamiliar surroundings didn’t help to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He took a deep breath and tried to shake off the unwanted sensation. Everything was okay, even more than okay, so he shouldn’t worry about a stupid dream.

Starsky must have sensed his anxiety, because he pulled him closer, waking up.

“Did you know that the Hungarian Crown always chooses the king, not the other way around?” Starsky’s voice was still groggy with sleep.

“Huh?” Hutch knew it wasn’t the most eloquent answer, but he would never get used to the way Starsky perceived the world.

Starsky shifted, finding a cozier spot, slipping his arm around Hutch’s chest – his cheek stubble scratching against Hutch’s neck. “In Europe, it was custom that the king chose his own crown or ordered a new one for himself, but not in Hungary. There the crown chose the rightful heir of the throne.”

“And how exactly did that work?” Hutch managed to ask. When he thought how close he had come to losing this man…

“Simply.” Starsky smiled, his eyes still closed. “If somebody wasn’t the rightful heir and he touched the crown, he died. Even the bishops had to wear gloves during the crowning ceremony. It’s like the Tutankhamen curse.”

“Starsky.” Hutch said doubtfully, but only because he was expected to.

“It’s true.” Starsky insisted.

“Why are we talking about dead pharaohs and Hungarian kings on Christmas Eve morning?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Starsky frowned.

Hutch had to admit he didn’t have an answer. “Nothing.”

“Good, because guess what?” Starsky asked with barely hidden excitement and hope. “You can see it here in Duluth.”

“The Hungarian Crown? Where?”

Starsky leaned on his elbow, so he could look at Hutch in the dim light of the guest bedroom. “In the museum. I read it in the newspaper yesterday.”

“You want to go there?” Hutch raised an eyebrow.

“And if I wanted to, so what? They have a special holiday exhibit today.”

“Starsk, when was the last time you went to a museum?” Hutch asked genuinely surprised.

He caught a glimpse of pain in Starsky’s eyes. “When was the last time I could see the Hungarian Crown at one? They’re going to send it back to Hungary next year, so it’s the last chance we have.”

“You really want to go?”

Starsky bit his lip before he answered. “I used to go to the museum with my dad when I was a kid.”

Aww, Starsk.

“You never told me that.”

“You never asked.” Starsky shrugged. “I loved it. I can feel him when I visit those places.”

Hutch moved his hand up Starsky’s back so it rested between his shoulder blades, and rubbed gently, supporting him the only way he knew how. Starsky rarely shared his pain so openly, but when it happened, Hutch always felt unworthy of such trust.

“Did you know that my family once lived in Hungary?” Starsky finally asked, resting his forehead on Hutch’s temple.

“You mentioned it once or twice.”

“Will you go to the museum with me?” Starsky moved his hand over Hutch’s heart.

“You want to spend Christmas Eve in a museum?”

“I want to spend today with you.”

“Okay, but if you start complaining I’ll leave you in the Egyptian section.” Hutch covered Starsky’s hand with his own. “They have real mummies there.”

“You wouldn’t.” Starsky grinned.

Hutch squeezed his hand. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Starsky moved back and brushed aside Hutch’s bangs from his forehead. “There’s also a Norwegian exhibit,” he added.

“I know.” How many times had he visited that section when he still lived here?

“Sure you do. Elsa lived in Norway before she moved here, right?”

“Yes.”

“It will be like a journey to our roots,” Starsky finished and brushed his thumb over Hutch’s upper lip.

Hutch suspected the only reason Starsky suggested he grow a mustache was so he could play with it.

***

After breakfast with Richard, they drove separately to the family lawyer where the reading of Elsa’s last will was scheduled. Hutch wasn’t surprised that his grandmother left him the watermill – considering it was where he’d spent half of his childhood – but it was still a painful morning. And the feeling of some invisible approaching danger hadn’t left Hutch since he woke, so having Starsky there was a balm to his raw nerves. He felt as if he was too happy. Life wasn’t supposed to be this beautiful, and it would be only a matter of time until he lost it all. Forever.

Hutch drove to the museum later – promising his father they would meet him home for dinner.

Starsky insisted on going to the Hungarian exhibition right after they purchased the tickets, explaining that he felt ‘drawn’ to the heritage of his people.

“Starsk, you’ve never even been to Hungary!” Hutch complained, but followed him upstairs to the crown exhibition.

“And after today I won’t have to go,” Starsky concluded with the special logic that always left Hutch speechless.

For Hutch the crown looked like a… crown. Gold, ancient and simplistic. Even the cross on top was slightly crooked. Hutch suspected there was a story about it, but he wasn’t really interested in hearing it.

Starsky on the other hand was grinning with happiness. “Have you ever wondered why we never had any kings here?” he asked when he looked at the crown from all angles and studied the history note next to the display stand.

Hutch blinked, taken aback. “Uh, we have democracy here. You can’t usually have that with a royal family ruling the country.”

“I don’t mean now.” Starsky shrugged. “But in the past. It would be nice to have had at least one king in our history, wouldn’t it?”

“You have many kings in your history, Starsk.”

Starsky looked at him surprised, and his grin changed into a warm smile. “Yeah, I do. How about Norway? Do they have a king there?”

“Yes, they do. His name is Olaf, Olaf the Fifth.”

“Excellent!” Starsky looked at the crown for the last time and nodded toward the door. “Let’s go to the Norwegian section.”

Before they reached the door, however, a dark haired man entered the room. Hutch recognized him immediately and a second later Erik Thorn looked at him disbelievingly.

“Ken?” Erik asked, coming closer.

Hutch smiled back and shook his outstretched hand. “Hi, Erik.”

“Ken! So good to see you here!”

“Well, I couldn’t resist a visit to the museum since I’m here.” Hutch turned toward Starsky to introduce them. “Eric, this is my partner, Dave Starsky. Starsk, meet Erik, an old friend.”

“The one from the book cover?” Starsky asked and shook his hand as well.

“You mean Elsa’s book? Yes, it’s me.” Erik smiled and turned back to Hutch. “I’m sorry about Elsa. She was a lovely lady.” He pointed at the ticket Hutch was holding in his hand. “I see you chose to visit our temporary exhibitions. Good choice.”

“You don’t get to see the Hungarian Crown every day, do you?” Hutch asked amused.

“If you’re done here, how about letting me be your guide in the Scandinavian section?” Erik beamed.

Hutch knew how much Erik loved to talk about history and how much Starsky loved listening to the trivia his old friend would offer, so he nodded. “That would be great!”

They followed him downstairs and without much ado Erik led them to a dais in the middle of the room. The Scandinavian section was more crowded – Hutch even noticed a group of teenagers that looked like they were part of a school trip, though he had no idea what school would be open on Christmas Eve. But maybe it was just an optional trip?

“Have you ever heard the myth about soulmates?” Erik asked when they stopped there.

“The Greek one?” Starsky asked. “About Zeus?”

Hutch sighed, knowing it was only a matter of time before Erik and Starsky would find a common language. He was however more interested in the strange behavior of a couple of teenage girls who were standing next to the podium where two gold bracelets lay. The bracelets were shaped into twin helixes that looked like dragons with wide wings and long tails. The helixes were chained to a rock, but the girls were playing with them and then decided to try them on.

“It’s stupid!” One of them – a blond one – declared and took it off, moving to another artifact.

The other girl, with short brown hair, just frowned and read again the note before she also took it off and followed her friend.

“I remember the story from history classes,” Starsky was saying.

Hutch concentrated on Erik’s words now.

“According to this myth, people were very powerful creatures in the beginning. They had four legs and four arms and two faces.” He pointed at an illustration hanging on a wall behind the podium. “What’s interesting is that they came in all gender configurations.”

Hutch stepped closer and indeed there were three figures – looking ugly and scary – pictured as an example for the tale. Hutch had to admit that the artist had a rather vivid imagination.

“They were very strong and mighty,” Erik continued. “So the gods felt threatened by them, and decided it would be wise to destroy human kind before the humans could destroy them. Zeus however didn’t want his ‘children’ wasted so he found a solution.” They moved toward another picture. “He split them and this weakened them considerably. Now they had just two legs and two arms and one face. They were very unhappy, and kept looking for their other half until they found him or her. When they found their other half, they embraced and wouldn’t let go until they died from hunger, because nothing else was important to them.”

“So they were dying anyway?” Hutch asked slowly, looking at the second painting and felt a strange unease in his chest. As if he were entering very dangerous territory. Again the illustration was expressive and the pain in the faces of the characters was shocking.

“Yes, but that wasn’t what Zeus had in mind when he split them, so he rearranged their anatomy with a little help of another god, and after that when they found each other, they only embraced until they’d satisfied their sexual need,” Erik explained lightly. “And there was another bright side to this version because in a third of the reunions they could procreate so the number of people slowly increased instead of facing extinction.”

Hutch bit his lip, again remembering the dream he had the previous night. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember what it was, because it was related to the darkest time of his life. He took a deep breath, reassuring himself that if he had a soulmate, it was Starsky, so nothing was wrong with his world. And he didn’t believe in soulmates anyway. Right?

“And how about the Scandinavian version?” Starsky asked curiously. “Hutch mentioned yesterday they had one as well.”

“Here.” Erik led them to the opposite wall. “Only one tribe had a myth like that. The Nirads. What is really amazing about them is that they can prove it’s true!”

“How?” Starsky wasn’t interested in the illustration, but Hutch felt cold dread just looking at a dragon with the sharpest claws he had ever seen.

“Here’s the proof!” Eric led them back to the middle of the room.

It took all of Hutch’s willpower to avert his gaze and look at the helixes again.

“Pretty.” Starsky approved. “Is it gold?”

“Mostly.”

They went to the rock on the podium where another couple was trying the bracelets on.

“It was created over seven thousands years ago, and we’re lucky the Norwegian National Museum was so kind to share it with us this year.”

“S-seven thousands years ago?” Hutch asked shocked.

“Yes. In Hungary.”

“Like the crown?” Starsky inquired.

Erik hesitated. “St. Stephen’s? Yes, but the crown is not that old. It was created in the eighth century. However both are kind of ‘magical’! The crown is important in Hungarian history, but these helixes are really special. And easy to… check out.”

Starsky looked skeptical. “Do they work like the crown does? Can you die if you touch them?”

Erik laughed. “On the contrary! You can test it if you wish.”

“I better not.” Starsky kept his distance.

As if determined to prove his words, Eric touched the metal and smiled. “They work differently. In the Nirads’ mythology, human kind was created by dragons and it was the dragons who split them. These helixes will confirm if somebody has a soulmate in their lifetime and even more– they’ll show you who it is.”

Hutch looked at the golden spiral, and now it reminded him of a snake. Danger. Danger. Danger.

“How?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“If we wait for a while, we can see.” Erik put it back and that’s when two teenage boys – part of the school trip obviously – approached the podium.

“Hey, Alex, look, you can touch these here!” One of them – a dark haired boy with freckles – pointed at the helixes.

“These are chained to the rock; no wonder you can touch them.” The other young man in an orange baseball cap was apparently bored to death.

“Wow! It says that if you put it on and then can’t take it off you can keep it!” The dark haired boy exclaimed after he read the note.

“Yeah, right!” Alex was more interested in a nude red haired goddess in one of the illustrations.

“Read it!” He pulled his friend toward the showcase.

They boy read the note and looked around until he spotted Erik, who was wearing a tag on his suit saying he worked for the Museum.

“Really?”

“Really.” Erik nodded encouragingly.

“Come on, put it on!”

Alex was however still suspicious. “What if it’s a trick and I end up chained to this rock?”

“Just do it!” The dark haired boy already had one helix on his wrist. “Can you imagine how much it’s worth?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said, but he reached for the bracelet anyway.

He looked at Erik again, as if gathering his courage and slid his hand into the spiral.

He only managed to have his hand halfway in when the helix was pulled toward the twin one and they joined with an audible click.

“You broke it!” Alex took out his hand quickly and put the bracelet back on the rock. Taking a step back, he looked horrified.

“No, I didn’t! It’s supposed to act like that!” The other one was grinning. “Half of a success is still a success. Not bad at all!”

Alex read the note again and asked, “And now what? Does it mean I’ll have to suffer your presence for the rest of my life? How does this soulmates business work?”

“I don’t know.” The dark haired boy was still smiling when they were heading toward the rest of their group. “But I’m going to find out.”

Hutch approached the rock and took both helixes to his hands, bringing them together.

“Is there a magnet?” Starsky asked; his voice still held a hint of suspicion.

“Nope.” Erik answered.

“He’s right, Starsk. No magnetic field.” Hutch separated the bracelets feeling no attraction between them.

“Scientists have been investigating it for years,” Erik explained. “But none of them have come up with a plausible explanation. Sometimes they attract each other and sometimes they don’t. Nobody knows why, but it’s believed that when soulmates put on the bracelets at the same time, the helixes act like magnets.”

“Is this why they’re chained to the rock?” Starsky pointed to the chain.

“We had a few break-ins, but the legend says it’s not allowed to forbid anyone from putting them on.”

“Or what?” Hutch asked insecurely.

“Or the dragon will come and eat you.”

Starsky laughed, but Hutch again felt the irrational fear – stronger now and reaching every corner of his mind.

“According to the legend,” Erik continued, “the greatest warriors always had a soulmate, and they were allowed to wear the helixes until they died or until the dragons freed them, because they couldn’t take it off. Now we use it as a catchy advertisement for this exhibition, but considering it hasn’t happened for centuries that two real warriors put them on at the same time, the risk of coming by a warrior is low nowadays. Do you want to try?” He pointed toward the spirals.

“No.” Starsky answered before Hutch could react. “Have you ever tried?” he asked Erik instead.

Eric shook his head. “No. I never met any…” He wouldn’t finish, because another museum worker was waving at him from the door. “You’ll have to excuse me. I think I have an important phone call I’ve been waiting for since morning. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, David. And I hope to see you again soon, Ken.”

“Thanks!” Starsky smiled, visibly satisfied with their guided tour.

Erik left and Hutch was looking at the helixes he was still holding in his hands.

“Starsk?” he asked curiously.

“I know the result.” Starsky frowned. “It won’t work for us.”

“Huh?” That was not the answer Hutch expected. “How do you know?”

Starsky tilted his head, as if surprised with the question, but he reached for one of the bracelets and put it on.

Waiting.

Suddenly Hutch didn’t know if he had courage to go on, but Starsky was waiting so he slid his hand into the opening of the twin bracelet.

A second passed, than another and nothing happened.

Hutch felt as if his entire world had just crashed down on him. Starsky took the helix off and touched Hutch’s arm, rubbing it gently up and down.

“No surprise here, huh?” he said simply.

“N-no surprise here?”

“Well, no. You didn’t think we were soulmates? Did you?” Starsky asked, suddenly unsure.

“N-no, of course not.” Hutch shook his head and put the helix away.

“Good.” Starsky stated. “Because my soulmate is dead.”

That’s when it clicked. “Terry?”

“Yes.”

Hutch smiled faintly.

Yeah, no surprise here indeed.

***

Hutch had no idea how he did it, but somehow he survived the Christmas Eve dinner at his father’s home. He knew his dad noticed that something was wrong, but Richard always knew when to comment and when to let it be.

At least for a while longer.

Starsky didn’t say anything when they were walking back to the watermill, but Hutch was sure he also sensed that something was bothering him.

Hutch knew it was stupid and immature, but their visit to the museum left him shattered into pieces. He always thought that the bond he shared with Starsky was special – one of a kind. Unique. And now to discover that Starsky hadn’t even considered the possibility that they could be soulmates…

Well, Hutch didn’t believe in the soulmate business anyway, so why did it hurt so much?

He climbed the stairs to the living room and busied himself with setting the fire in the fireplace. Unfortunately, tonight as he looked into the flames, all he could see were golden dragons, so he decided to go out on the balcony. Outside it was cold and he wouldn’t hear the water running in the bathroom where Starsky was taking a shower. He hoped the frosty air would numb his senses and the pain would lessen.

He held the balustrade and shook his head exasperated. You are pathetic, Hutchinson.

Hutch didn’t mind sharing Starsky with Terry. He loved her as much as Starsky did – it just wasn’t possible not to. But still…

The door behind him opened and he felt a rush of warm air from inside the watermill escaping through the door.

A moment later he felt Starsky’s hand reaching for his own. “Hutch?”

Starsky’s hand was warm, whereas Hutch’s was cold, as frozen as his heart.

Hutch took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound normal. Whatever that meant. “Yeah?”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Hutch shrugged, but didn’t dare take his hand away. Because if they weren’t soulmates, why had Starsky put up with him for so long? And how long it would last? There was no forever in Hutch’s relationships. No matter what Starsky had said the previous night, there was nothing to keep him by Hutch’s side regardless of how much Hutch wanted it.

“I can see something is bothering you, and I think I know what it is,” Starsky whispered. “But I’m freezing; come inside.”

Hutch was glad there was no moon tonight because he wasn’t sure he could face his partner when his heart was broken into pieces. It took him a while to compose himself, but ultimately he followed Starsky inside. He leaned his back against the door once they were there and didn’t move any further.

“It’s what happened in the museum, right?” Starsky sat on the armrest of the sofa.

“Starsk, you don’t have to…”

Starsky didn’t let him finish. “Maybe you will meet your soulmate one day.”

Hutch closed his eyes, reliving the dream from previous night. “I think I already did.” He admitted. Why not? He had nothing to lose anyway.

“Really?”

Hutch sighed and opened his eyes. “Remember what Erik said about the… reunion?”

“Yeah.” Starsky nodded. “I – I think I know what he meant. I believe it’s more than just sex.”

Hutch was sure Starsky must have known. What he had shared with Terry was truly special.

“It was.” Hutch confessed. “Her name was Darla.”

“I don’t remember any Darla.” Starsky raised his eyebrows, almost amused.

“I didn’t tell you about her.” Hutch shrugged. “You had just woken up from the coma when I met her. The doctors told me you were going to live and I – I felt… it was just too much. Somehow I ended up at Huggy’s.”

“You don’t have to tell me…”

“I do, because I didn’t get it until today,” Hutch said fiercely. “She was there. She had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. I’ve never been attracted to redheaded girls, but she was… There was something in her that I couldn’t just put my finger on.” He shook his head, still remembering how helpless he felt that night. “It took me a while before I realized she was a hooker. Yeah, I know, but it didn’t matter. Nothing made sense that night.”

Hutch closed his eyes before the memories almost overwhelmed him. He remembered vividly that as they crossed the threshold of the hotel room, he just let go. Until that night, he’d always saved his most secret dreams and expectations for the moment when he would meet the right woman. The one who would take him as he was, who would become his wife, who would be the mother of his children. By whose side he would grow old. He let go of the part of himself that he’d never shared with anybody. Even with Vanessa.

But with Darla he unleashed all his dreams, wishes and desires. He gave her everything he had – everything he’d ever wanted to share with another human being. And indeed it wasn’t sex – it was an epiphany of making love. Nobody would ever have him like she had. It was a night of worship and prayers. Unheard forever. The first time and the last time he gave everything. Until nothing was left. Until there was only a dark hole in his chest that threatened to swallow not only him, but his entire universe. He gave everything and it… still wasn’t enough.

The night ended, the sun rose and…

Something in him snapped. The hope that had kept him going, that made him try over and over again, no matter how much pain each failure caused, died and there was nobody and nothing that would ever be able to revive it.

He left the hotel room feeling empty, burned out and cold.

And then he entered another room – and the weak smile that welcomed him shattered him with the power of an earthquake. It took only a second for Starsky to change the black hole in Hutch’s heart into a shining Sun that sent its warm light into every corner of his soul. And for the second time that day he broke down, but this time he woke up with certainty that what he cherished the most, he still had.

“You mean the night when you cried yourself to sleep in my hospital bed?” Starsky asked gently, tilting his head.

“Yeah.” Hutch confessed. “Darla, or whatever her name really was, said she was doing a favor for a friend. She didn’t tell me who it was but I – I have a feeling it was Sweet Alice. Only she knew how much… I needed it.”

“You sure it wasn’t somebody else trying to…” Starsky asked concerned.

“No, I don’t think so, and I didn’t pay her anyway.”

“Okay.” Starsky accepted his answer.

But Hutch couldn’t let it be. Not after the dream he’d had. “Starsk, it was like entering a different dimension of sensation.”

Starsky closed his eyes briefly. “I know.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense.” Hutch frowned, still as confused as he was two years ago. “I don’t desire it anymore. Or her.”

Starsky sighed and Hutch couldn’t miss the pain he saw in his eyes. “Hutch, just because somebody is your soulmate, doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your life with them. Thinking like that is just avoiding taking responsibility for your actions.”

Aww, Starsk…

“You heard what the boys said?” Starsky collected himself quickly.

“They were talking a lot.”

“It’s not our destiny to be together,” Starsky clarified.

That’s when Hutch understood, wondering how many times a heart could be broken. No surprise here, either.

“So I’m a second choice?” he asked hoarsely.

Starsky got up in a swift motion and stood in front of him.

“No, Hutch.” He grasped Hutch by his arm. “You are no second choice. You are a choice. And so am I.”

“What?” Hutch blinked, not understanding.

Starsky paused, like he was fighting some internal battle, but then gave in.

“Hutch, you think that the universe is held together by gravity, but it’s not gravity that keeps you next to me. We don’t need any invisible bonds to chain our souls. I prefer to have you by my side free and – and because you want to be here. I don’t love you because some forces of the universe made me this way. Made us this way.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

“Why do you?” It wasn’t even a whisper.

This time it was Starsky who hesitated. As if he wasn’t expecting this question. He lifted his hand and cupped Hutch’s cheek.

“I love you because you have the most beautiful soul in the entire universe,” he said intensely. “You stand by me no matter how badly I screw up. I can be stubborn, unyielding, stupid, cruel… how many times have I hurt you?”

Hutch wanted to object, but Starsky put a finger over his lips.

“You chose me every time you forgave me.” Starsky said firmly. “Because you want to forgive me.”

Hutch shook his head. “Because I need you!”

“No, we can live without each other – we did it for over twenty years. The reason is that being together is better than being alone. And I’m glad that we are not soulmates. I feel more loved, because I know it’s your choice and not something imprinted into our souls before the beginning of the time by forces we don’t know and don’t care about.”

“Starsky.”

“I don’t care about any crowns or bracelets. Legends are good for putting things in perspective, not for living by them in the here and now. I’ve never doubted your love. We’re not perfect, but I don’t want anybody who’s perfect. I want you. You keep me alive. You make me feel things I would never even dream of. You make me live my life to the fullest. I told you that yesterday, and I will say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

Hutch felt tears threatening, but he was determined to keep them at bay. Who was Starsky trying to fool when he insisted he didn’t like soapy scenes?

“Have you ever thought about writing poetry?” Hutch asked instead.

Starsky leaned his forehead against Hutch’s. “I’d even join the ballet if it helped you to believe me.”

Hutch put his arms around him. “I do.”

Starsky waited until Hutch was ready to let him go and then stepped back. “Good, because I think it’s time for your Christmas gift.”

“Starsk.” Hutch rubbed his hands down his face, still feeling a little light on his legs. 

“Your Dad told me your family always celebrated it the European way, so you will get it tonight.” Starsky stabbed his chest with a finger.

“You-you didn’t have to buy me anything.” Hutch protested. Didn’t he just get the best gift he could ever dream of?

“That’s good, because I didn’t buy you anything.”

“You planted a tree in my name?” Hutch raised an eyebrow.

“Nope, I’m not that cruel.” Starsky smiled mischievously. “I was thinking of what you might really want, and I figured it out last night.”

“You did? And what is that?” Now Hutch was really curious.

“Peace.” Starsky declared with satisfied grin.

“Peace?”

“There is always a storm inside you.” Starsky sobered. “Sometimes it’s not as loud and wild as other times, but it’s always there.” He put a hand over Hutch’s chest. “Last night, there was just peace.”

How could it not be, Starsk?

Starsky smiled. “And because I’m quite sure that the reason you let yourself rest was… me, so I’m your Christmas gift.”

Hutch looked at the hand bewildered.

“I know I can’t offer you much in bed,” Starsky continued. “But I never got any impression you were interested in that kind of entertainment with me, so we can figure out something about it later.”

“You are crazy.” Hutch grinned, feeling even better than the day before.

“Well, I can always have a star named after you.” Starsky shrugged playfully.

“I already have a sky full of stars just for myself.” Hutch grasped a handful of his shirt.

“Good.” Starsky patted his hand. “Because I’m kind of broke and I don’t think I could afford anything valuable right now.”

Hutch wondered how many people would ever realize how precious a gift David Starsky was? But it was to Hutch’s benefit that they didn’t.

“Considering my financial status,” Hutch said, “I’m lucky that you are a gift, because otherwise I most certainly could not afford you ever in my life.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m not very expensive to maintain.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Starsky smiled impishly. “If your cash is love, you’ve got enough.”

Hutch let go of his shirt and tried to smoothen the fabric. “What if I want to keep you forever?” he asked quietly.

“I sure hope so.” Starsky covered his hand. “I come with lifetime guarantee.”

THE BEGINNING

The legend about the Hungarian Crown is real, and the crown stayed in the United States after WWII until 1979 when it was sent back to Hungary. I changed the year in my story, so Starsky could see it.

The lobby had the shabby elegance of an aging debutant. Much like herself, Alice thought. The remembrance of what had been and what could be. A Christmas tree, leaning to the left and festooned with faded baubles, provided a hint of holiday cheer.

Alice leaned on the liquor stained bar. It was slow — very few lonely travelers out on a stormy Christmas Eve. Didn’t matter, she’d lost the holiday spirit long ago. Just another day to earn cash, on her back with her legs spread.

The bartender knew her and slid a coke with a splash of rum over, free of charge.

“Ho, ho, ho!”

Alice turned with a glimmer of joy. Her two favorite cops.

“Merry Christmas.” Hutch handed her a small box.

“What’s this?” It’d been a very long time since she’d received a Christmas present.

“What do you get for the girl who has all this?” Starsky winked at her. “Open it.”

Nestled in tissue paper lay a gold heart. Giggles erupted, and she nodded as they joined in the laughter.

“You’ll never be a stereotype, always a friend,” Hutch whispered. “Join us for dinner.”

“Turkey a la Huggy, mincemeat pie,” Starsky added.

“Love to,” she said.

Special thanks to Nicky Gabriel for the screen cap.