{"id":458,"date":"2014-12-21T06:07:31","date_gmt":"2014-12-21T06:07:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/?p=458"},"modified":"2022-02-06T23:36:51","modified_gmt":"2022-02-06T23:36:51","slug":"december-21st-in-his-fathers-image-by-dawnwind","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/?p=458","title":{"rendered":"December 21st- In His Father’s Image by Dawnwind"},"content":{"rendered":"

Right click and save to download the story in epub format.<\/span><\/a><\/strong>
\n Right click and save to download the story in pdf format.<\/span><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Looking through the anteroom window, Starsky didn\u2019t have to guess the identity of the man standing in the hospital hallway. He\u2019d seen photos way back when, could have picked the man out of a crowd despite never having met him.<\/p>\n

Same blond hair, although streaked with silver and very thin at the crown. Same long legs, broad shoulders, and strong patrician nose.<\/p>\n

Gunner Magnus Hutchinson, Hutch\u2019s dad.<\/p>\n

Starsky removed his isolation garb more slowly than usual, considering the implications of Hutchinson\u2019s arrival. Did Hutch know? What did this rare visit mean? How had he heard about Hutch\u2019s illness?<\/p>\n

Starsky felt all at odds with nothing more specific to do to help Hutch. Callendar’s blood was ready to be synthesized into the serum that should save the lives of all the patients. But, according to Judith, it would take more than twenty-four hours\u2014possibly as much as forty-eight\u2014to make. Thinking back to the urgent, desperate rush to find Callendar, Starsky had assumed that once Callendar was in the hospital and the medical staff siphoned off his blood, Hutch and the other patients would be set.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d thought it would be instantaneous. When he’d been told about the delay, the pit of his stomach had dropped into his shoes and still hadn\u2019t climbed back into its normal position. Yet, even without the magic elixir, Hutch seemed to have rallied. Judith and the other CDC guy were optimistic that Hutch might be\u2014in a way\u2014similar to Callendar, with some sort of natural immunity to fight off the virus. Maybe from all that rabbit food and jogging he did, who knows? For now, Hutch was still critically ill, with a high fever and congested lungs. The sound of his coughing was like sandpaper against wood, grating and horrible.<\/p>\n

Sitting beside Hutch\u2019s bed, even while he slept, had given Starsky a measure of peace. Hutch hadn\u2019t coughed, and the lines of pain and fatigue on his forehead had smoothed out. Unlike poor Ritchie, Hutch had avoided the ignominy of needing a ventilator to aid his breathing.<\/p>\n

Satisfied that Hutch was, if not recovering, at least vaguely within the boundaries of what the medical staff termed \u201cstable,\u201d Starsky had decided to go home for some much needed sleep. He hadn\u2019t been home in days\u2014sleep was a forgotten memory.<\/p>\n

Until he\u2019d seen Gunnar Hutchinson. Should he speak to the older man? Introduce himself? Or leave him be?<\/p>\n

Starsky was never exactly sure what relationship Hutch had with his father. As far as he knew, there were no regular phone calls or communication. Hutch had told him precious little about his family. Gunnar had cheated\u2014apparently repeatedly\u2014on Hutch\u2019s mother and they\u2019d divorced before Hutch was in high school. The divorce had been difficult for Hutch and his sister Karen to deal with, and a rift had opened between father and son that had never closed.<\/p>\n

Starsky thought back on the few conversations he and Hutch had had about their parents. Those early gab fests over a pitcher of beer when they were both in the academy and the late night patrol car cruising when they were still in uniform and didn\u2019t know each other very well. Before they could simply while away an entire night talking about nothing and everything, just content to be together. He recalled Hutch\u2019s reticence to mention his father, his guarded reactions to even the most neutral of questions, such as, had his dad taught him to play baseball?<\/p>\n

For Hutch to have called his father today meant that he had enough residual love to go to Gunner in a crisis. He clearly knew the man\u2019s phone number, at the very least.<\/p>\n

And birthday cards were sent to and from. Starsky recalled Hutch picking one out last January. Gunner was a New Year\u2019s baby; had apparently been in the newspaper as Duluth\u2019s first birth of the year in 1918. Needless to say, Hutch had mailed the card out late, what with them working both December thirty-first and January first.<\/p>\n

But it was the thought that counted, right?<\/p>\n

Starsky almost laughed as he stuffed his yellow paper gown and gloves into a trash bin. He could see Hutch\u2019s earnest and slightly worried face as clear as day. They\u2019d gone into the overwhelming Hallmark store, brimming with cards of every sort, to buy a single one. It had taken Hutch half an hour to find the right card. Starsky had held his tongue, curious about why there was suddenly a need to buy the parental unit a birthday card, and yet not willing to poke at Hutch\u2019s fragile link to his father.<\/p>\n

The man would have been\u2014Starsky paused at the door of the ante room, watching Hutchinson talk with the doctor assigned to Hutch for the night\u2014sixty at his last birthday. Could it be that Hutch, yearning to live a long and fruitful life, had realized he had less time to make it up with his father now that the man was getting older?<\/p>\n

That Starsky could understand. He couldn\u2019t conceive of life without his Ma, although she drove him batty on a regular basis. He\u2019d give almost anything to have had more time with his long-deceased father. Pavel Starsky had been a strict disciplinarian, quick to dole out the strap and a night without dinner. Still, he had been Dad.<\/p>\n

Decision made, Starsky washed his hands and walked into the hall. \u201cMr. Hutchinson?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutchinson turned from the window into Hutch\u2019s room. \u201cStarsky, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you do,\u201d Starsky said formally, putting out his hand. No surprise that Hutchinson\u2019s was firm and no nonsense, someone used to being in charge. \u201cWhen did you get here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA couple hours ago. Kenny called me\u2026\u201d He trailed off, biting his lips as a flicker of sadness and pain crossed his face. \u201cHe was afraid he was dying and wanted to\u2026\u201d He lifted a hand in mute resignation to a higher power. \u201cSo I booked the first flight. It\u2019s not long, from here to Portland.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGlad you came,\u201d Starsky said honestly. It was eerie seeing Hutch\u2019s mannerisms, his facial expressions on another man. \u201cCan I buy you some bad coffee or a grilled cheese sandwich? The cafeteria ruins just about any other food, but they can make a decent grilled cheese.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutchinson smiled tiredly. \u201cThat sounds\u2026edible.\u201d He glanced back into the isolation room, the fear and pain back in his eyes. \u201cHow is Ken doing? I saw you in there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you go in and visit him?\u201d Starsky asked. \u201cDoes he know you\u2019re here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got all garbed up briefly, but he was asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s holding his own,\u201d Starsky said, staring in at Hutch, willing him the strength to survive and beat this foe. Hutch had his head turned away and the plastic oxygen tent was misted so it was difficult to make out his features, but it was enough to prove that he was still breathing. Starsky inhaled gratefully. \u201cThe doctors are working on this cure thing, with blood from the one guy who recovered\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe man who came forward? There was an article in the newspaper.\u201d<\/p>\n

After the impassioned plea on television, the BCPD and the hospital\u2019s public relations departments had decided to come up with an explanation on why and how Callendar was involved. Instead of the truth\u2014an assassin basically forced, with added guilt, to give his blood for the good of the afflicted\u2014the newspapers had been fed a story about an altruistic man touched by Ritchie\u2019s mother\u2019s plea and Starsky\u2019s passion.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was a little more complicated than that,\u201d Starsky admitted, reluctantly leaving Hutch\u2019s proximity for the walk to the elevators. \u201cHutch is tough, he can beat this bas\u2014virus.\u201d Who knew what Mr. H thought of bad language? Starsky wouldn\u2019t have been able to sit for a week if he\u2019d said that word in front of his own dad.<\/p>\n

At five minutes to seven pm, the cafeteria was almost empty, the staff ready to close up. The main entrees, pallid chicken in muddy gravy and spaghetti with an orangish sauce, were completely unappetizing. Starsky ordered two grilled cheese while Hutchinson got coffees and limp lettuce salads.<\/p>\n

It felt right, almost comforting, to glance over and see the blond head bent over the salad bar. Starsky was surprised to realize that he was glad the older man was here. Someone else to help shoulder the\u2014what should he call it? Not grief, \u2018cause Hutch wasn\u2019t dead. More like the waiting, the patience\u2014something Starsky had never been good at on the best of days. Having Mr. H here, even for a short time, felt like having Hutch watching his back on a stake-out. Was that why Hutch had called him?<\/p>\n

\u201cAmerican cheese and processed non-butter product, but you are correct, not a bad sandwich,\u201d Hutchinson said after his first bite.<\/p>\n

Starsky chuckled for the first time in what felt like days. \u201cYou sound like your son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMore and more, I realize that he and I are very much alike.\u201d Hutchinson took a pensive drink of coffee, looking at Starsky over the rim of his cup. \u201cI know you have questions\u2014go ahead. If nothing else happens tonight, at least we can get to know one another.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky felt his eyebrows rise. That was a new one, a transparent Hutchinson. Hutch tended to keep his secrets close to the vest, even occasionally hiding things Starsky would have been better off knowing about, such as a mobster-connected girlfriend. \u201cHutch never talks about you. His mother maybe once or twice a year, but you never.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutchinson nodded somberly. \u201cHe has reasons\u2014some of them my stipulations, some of them his own\u2026misgivings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what?\u201d Starsky said far too bluntly, but he was too tired to be polite. He\u2019d already used up all the social niceties he had to spare.<\/p>\n

Hutchinson didn\u2019t reply at first, but the battle of emotions was evident on his face. He was weary, too, and he hadn\u2019t been here at the beginning of the viral war.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m gay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Not expecting that answer, Starsky rocked back in his chair, almost falling. He grabbed the edge of the Formica table. Of all the secrets he\u2019d imagined in the Hutchinson family over the years, this was not one of them. \u201cAnd here I thought you just had a bastard kid,\u201d he joked, realizing belatedly that the word had popped out this time.<\/p>\n

He smiled ruefully. \u201cThat, too. Ken and I avoid that subject.\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019d thrown out every one of Starsky\u2019s preconceived ideas. It was almost enough to keep Starsky off his food, but he took a couple of bites of grilled cheese to recover. Now that Starsky thought about it, the last time he could recall Hutch mentioning either of his parents was his disappointment that his mother wouldn\u2019t see his edited scene in Steve Hanson\u2019s cowboy movie.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks for the honesty,\u201d Starsky said finally. \u201cWhy now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it all right if I start at the beginning?\u201d Hutchinson played with his salad, rolling a cherry tomato around with his fork. \u201cSuch as it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo \u2018head.\u201d Starsky stirred two packs of sugar into his coffee, intrigued in spite of himself. Or maybe it was just something to get his mind off Hutch\u2019s terrible struggle, if only for a moment. \u201cI know you and Mrs. H were divorced when Hutch was twelve, and he doesn\u2019t forgive that kinda thing easily.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve very astute. He\u2019s told me a lot about you, that you see through people easily.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nice to hear he\u2019d gotten a good report to the old man. Starsky glanced at the ceiling, sending Hutch healing vibes one floor up. There were no actual thoughts of Hutch\u2019s demise. Not now, not ever. Starsky would never be able to survive that blow.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou and his mom had to get married?\u201d he guessed. He was fishing, like he did with a suspect, bits of facts gleaned from various discussions that gelled into a hypothesis. Hutch had never said anything specific, but Starsky did know when Hutch\u2019s parents got married. The date had been stamped on the bottom of the single photo Hutch owned of the wedding: Louise in a tailored gray suit holding a spray of roses, Gunnar in his Air Force dress uniform, married January 27, 1945. Seven months before Hutch was born.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are a good detective.\u201d Hutchinson nodded, rubbing his chest absently, just as Hutch did when he was thinking. \u201cYes, Louise and I had dated before I went to the South Pacific. Soon after, she was in the family way and I took a liberty in Hawaii for us to get married. My son was born. After the war, I worked for an oil company. We had a second, a daughter Karen, but I didn\u2019t have much time with Kenny or Karen as children. Mostly trips to the zoo or at Christmas. I was sent abroad frequently, and I\u2026\u201d He ate the tomato and a couple pieces of lettuce before shoving the salad away. \u201cI dabbled. A great deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou had affairs?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMany,\u201d he confessed with a frown, eyes far away, recalling all the indiscretions. \u201cMy daughter Sophia\u2019s mother lives in Italy. But more and more, over the years, I began to meet with men.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo Hutch was going to be opposite you in every single way,\u201d he surmised, watching Hutchinson absorb the slight. The man straightened his shoulders, as if he had to march forward in spite of his son\u2019s resentment. \u201cBe a cop instead of selling what I bet Hutch considers something that damages the\u2026\u201d How would Hutch have said it? \u201cThe ecology.\u201d<\/p>\n

And yet, he had copied Gunnar right down the line, Starsky thought privately. Luckily had divorced Van before they had children, but slept with every woman he could find\u2014no men that Starsky was aware of. Even so, ever since John Blaine\u2019s death, Starsky had mulled over comments Hutch had made.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know him very well.\u201d Hutchinson smiled sadly. \u201cI wish I knew him half as much, but even once Ken made contact, he\u2019s kept me at arm\u2019s length.\u201d He took a last sip of coffee. \u201cUntil today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen did you two start talking again?\u201d Starsky asked.<\/p>\n

Hutchinson tapped a finger on the table as if calculating the time. \u201cRoughly two years ago? You were in the hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky held in the second shock of the evening. That long ago? A rush of unrighteous fury ran through him. Why didn\u2019t you tell me sooner?<\/em> He had no reason to be angry at Hutch, no reason at all except he\u2019d thought they were mostly past hiding important facts from each other.<\/p>\n

He wanted to give Hutch a shake. Would have, if his partner weren\u2019t so sick. Two years ago? This was November. In December of \u201975, he\u2019d been shot in an Italian restaurant. \u201cYeah, Hutch got me through a really rough night\u2014I wouldn\u2019t be here if it weren\u2019t for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me.\u201d Hutchinson piled his used dishes on the tray and waited while Starsky added his to the stack. \u201cMaybe talking on the phone freed us both to be something other than father and son, I don\u2019t know, but that night, for the first time in probably our whole lives, we opened up and talked. For hours\u2014while you were in surgery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d No wonder Starsky didn\u2019t have a clue about the change of heart. He barely recalled that rainy night. Except that he still harbored a strange phobia for linguini with clams, which was too bad because he\u2019d previously liked the meal. His strongest memories were of lying in the back office of Giovanni\u2019s<\/em>, Hutch\u2019s arms around him, holding him close, whispering in his ear.<\/p>\n

Shivers went up his spine.<\/p>\n

\u201cStarsky?\u201d Hutchinson asked with concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothin\u2019.\u201d Starsky swiped a hand through the air, dispelling the sudden strange emotion that clenched at his heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen Ken called me this morning, he asked me to tell you something\u2026\u201d He ducked his head for a moment, clearly considering what he was about to say. \u201cWhich was why I was really glad to see you here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what?\u201d Starsky asked. He wanted to get back to the third floor and check on Hutch\u2019s progress. It had only been half an hour, tops, since they left, but he had an urgent need to see Hutch, to touch his face\u2014palm to his forehead, feeling for a fever, that was all.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn my own case, it took far, far too long for me to see what\u2014or should I say who was right beside me all the time.\u201d Hutchinson paused, pulling his wallet out of a jacket pocket.<\/p>\n

Starsky felt confused. What the heck was the guy going on about? He should be polite, this was Hutch\u2019s dad, after all, but he could barely sit still. \u201cMaybe we could talk on the way back upstairs?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCertainly.\u201d Hutchinson fingered his wallet as he stood but didn\u2019t put it back into his pocket. \u201cKen told me about your friend, John Blaine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe died just over a month ago,\u201d Starsky confirmed, feeling on firmer ground. The conversation had come full circle, back to being gay. The heartache of John\u2019s\u2014not dishonesty so much as lack of trust\u2014still hurt. He\u2019d considered John a second father; now he saw that fathers had mysteries all their own. \u201cHe had a secret lover. I didn\u2019t know, never suspected a thing. Some detective I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDetectives would be the most likely to know how to hide a dangerous truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky and Hutchinson walked outside the cafeteria, heading down the hallway. Hutchinson\u2019s thoughtful expression was so like Hutch\u2019s Starsky almost felt like his best friend was right beside him\u2014and made him doubly want to be with Hutch again.<\/p>\n

\u201cDangerous?\u201d Starsky repeated, poking at the elevator call button. He wasn\u2019t sure he wanted to continue this discussion. \u201cWho are we talking about here? John or you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBoth, any man who\u2014\u201c Hutchinson waited until the elevator doors opened, disgorging a nurse pushing a woman and her newborn baby in a wheelchair. When he and Starsky were the only passengers, Hutchinson spoke again. \u201c\u2014loves another man. Ken told me his feelings about you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait a goddamn minute,\u201d Starsky snarled, smashing the stop button to halt the elevator in mid-ascent. \u201cAre you saying Hutch is gay?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutchinson opened his mouth but Starsky rushed in before a syllable came out. \u201cHe ain\u2019t just like you, he likes women!\u201d But his own private musings mocked him. Hutch\u2019s haunted looks during the investigation into Blaine\u2019s death, the question about two men who spent seventy-five percent of their time together. Starsky felt sucker punched.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me to tell you that he loves you.\u201d The words hung there between them, truly dangerous in their own right. \u201cIn case he didn\u2019t get the chance.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutchinson reached over and released the elevator from stasis. There was an abrupt lurch that knocked Starsky into the wall behind him. He steadied himself, breathing roughly through his nose as the car continued upward.<\/p>\n

What did this all mean? Why did his heart clench and yet beat faster in what felt like joyous hope while his belly spasmed in fear?<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2014\u201d He bit his lip as the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. The truth would set him free, yet how far could he go? He looked into Hutchinson\u2019s blue eyes, such familiar eyes, just like his son\u2019s. Older, more jaded, but serene and understanding. \u201cHow did you accept it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat my son loves another man?\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky shook his head, staring down the hall, instinctively seeking Hutch, needing him. \u201cHow did you accept that you could\u2014\u201d he choked, summoning strength, \u201c\u2014make love to a guy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was surprisingly easy.\u201d He smiled, finally flipping open the billfold he\u2019d been holding for the last few minutes. \u201cThis is Rick.\u201d The photo showed a slender, balding man with a thick mustache and the smile of a guy who\u2019d won the lottery. He had his hand on Gunnar Hutchinson\u2019s shoulder. They looked like a married couple. \u201cHe wasn\u2019t any more sure about a\u2014how should I say it? A switch in his life view.\u201d Hutchinson touched the photo fondly before closing the wallet. \u201cWe\u2019d worked together for years. Flown to Algeria, Rome, and Alaska together, discussing pipelines, oil prices, and then one day, his hand brushed mine. It was like catching fire.\u201d<\/p>\n

Exactly how it felt every single time Starsky’s arm grazed Hutch\u2019s as they walked, or when he patted his partner\u2019s belly before going into a crime scene. \u201cYeah,\u201d he whispered. \u201cI know how it feels.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutchinson guided Starsky into the anteroom, going past the viewing window so quickly Starsky had no time to look in at Hutch. His head and heart ached in a synchronous beat.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you ever read the Kinsey Report?\u201d Hutchinson asked, bending down to get the scratchy paper gowns out of a drawer in the cart.<\/p>\n

Starsky\u2019s cheeks flamed. What did this guy take him for, a pervert? Just because\u2014maybe, probably, definitely\u2014he\u2019d thought about Hutch as other than a pal. \u201cNo,\u201d he replied stiffly.<\/p>\n

\u201cMany men have it in us to be attracted to\u2026 other men,\u201d Hutchinson explained, his touch gentle as he placed the gown, rubber gloves, and mask into Starsky\u2019s hands. \u201cSociety has scared us into thinking this is wrong. But I can attest it has brought more love and joy into my life than any other thing on earth besides my son and daughters.\u201d He smiled, happiness radiating from his face. \u201cRick is who I was meant to be with. You\u2019ve tried women. Ken told me about Helen and Terry. Now take the leap.\u201d He gestured to the isolation room.<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s room.<\/em><\/p>\n

Starsky couldn\u2019t get the paper gown on fast enough. It ripped, from neckline to hem. \u201cDamn!\u201d he exploded, wadding the thing into a ball.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d Hutchinson started to say more when a knock at the door interrupted him.<\/p>\n

\u201cDavid?\u201d Dr. Judith Kaufman poked her head around, glancing at Starsky and then at Hutchinson in surprise. \u201cYou must be Ken\u2019s father,\u201d she said, smoothing her wildly curly hair. Clearly exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes, she was still stunning. \u201cI\u2019m Dr. Kaufman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I arrived earlier,\u201d Hutchinson said, shaking Judith\u2019s hand. \u201cI spoke with Dr\u2026? He was a resident, working the late shift.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDr. Oliver. I\u2019ve been looking for you, David,\u201d she said, beaming. \u201cIt\u2019s finished.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe serum? So quickly?\u201d Starsky\u2019s hands shook as he smoothed out a second yellow gown. His mouth went dry. This would all be over soon.<\/p>\n

Please, God.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s experimental, but at this point, it\u2019s all we have.\u201d Judith nodded, curls flopping over her forehead. She pushed them away. \u201cWe\u2019ve triaged the patients\u2014placed them into categories, if you will, on severity of symptoms, strain on immune systems\u2014\u201d She looked between the two of them, obviously seeing their glazed expressions. \u201cAnyway, the initial batch is tiny, but the lab is synthesizing more as quickly as humanly possible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo Hutch is getting a shot, right?\u201d Starsky demanded.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe nurse\u2014\u201d Judith gestured like a game show host as a dark-haired nurse came through the door carrying a syringe full of pale yellow liquid. \u201cHere she is. Vicki will inject the serum into Ken\u2019s IV and we\u2019ll know if it is working in a few hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow will you know?\u201d Hutchinson asked anxiously, watching Vicki efficiently don the yellow gown and mask.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe’ll draw a CBC,\u201d Vicki answered. She slipped on the rubber gloves before going into the isolation room, syringe in hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cKen\u2019s immune system has been working better than many of the patients,\u201d Judith said, tracking Vicki as she walked over to Hutch\u2019s bed.<\/p>\n

Starsky turned to look through the window, scrutinizing Hutch\u2019s every movement. He shifted in bed as Vicki pulled aside the plastic curtain. She leaned over Hutch, apparently talking to him. Starsky\u2019s heart lurched, jealousy at that sweet scene flushing through his system. He yearned to be in there with his Hutch.<\/p>\n

I love him.<\/em><\/p>\n

So basic, really. Nothing to be frightened of, because the love had been there from the first, hiding in plain sight. Every time they\u2019d ever spoken at the same time, read each other\u2019s thoughts with a glance, calmed with just a touch from the other\u2019s hand, there had been love. He simply hadn\u2019t recognized it as romantic love; had been conditioned not to. That had changed, all because of Hutch\u2019s father.<\/p>\n

\u201cEarlier complete blood counts showed a left shift, which means he had a proliferation of immature white blood cells going out to fight the infection,\u201d Judith said rapidly. \u201cThis shows that his body is mounting an offensive. The serum should support his body, give him the antibodies that Callendar produced, to fight off the virus and the secondary pneumonia.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe has pneumonia?\u201d Hutchinson asked.<\/p>\n

Starsky wasn\u2019t listening any longer. He shoved both arms into the isolation gown, not bothering to tie the sash in the back. Knotting the strings of the mask behind his head, he was still working his fingers into the gloves when he pushed through to the inner sanctum. Somehow, just being this much closer reduced the clamor in his head, decreased his heart rate, and left him slightly dizzy.<\/p>\n

Hutch was going to live.<\/em><\/p>\n

They had a chance.<\/p>\n

Expecting to die, Hutch had told his father that he loved Starsky.<\/p>\n

It was all too much to take in at one time. Starsky stopped, inches from the bed, waiting while Vicki finished her chores. He hadn\u2019t managed to see her injecting the serum into Hutch\u2019s IV tubing, but the used syringe was on the bedside table.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s he doing?\u201d Starsky asked, not really looking at Vicki.<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s eyes were open, staring at Starsky with naked longing.<\/p>\n

How had he never recognized that familiar expression for what it was? He\u2019d been blind.<\/p>\n

\u201cTemperature\u2019s slightly lower,\u201d Vicki said, tucking Hutch\u2019s urinary catheter out of sight under the edge of the blanket. \u201cAnd here I thought I could raise any man\u2019s temperature with a flutter of eyelashes.\u201d She winked saucily at Hutch. \u201cYou have ten minutes, Mr. Starsky, but I see there are other people waiting to come in. Don\u2019t tire him out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWouldn\u2019t dream of it, schweetheart,\u201d he drawled in his best Bogey. Once upon a time, her brown eyes might have raised his temp, but she had nothing on a blintz with sweaty blond hair, a pale, drawn face, and big, broad hands clutching the blanket.<\/p>\n

Vicki went back into the anteroom, striping off her isolation garb. Starsky watched her speak to Judith and they both left, probably to give the serum to other lucky patients. He pushed past the plastic curtain and sat on the bedside chair, unable to say a word. He didn\u2019t know where to begin.<\/p>\n

\u201cH-hey,\u201d Hutch whispered hoarsely, his fingers moving restlessly over the edge of the blanket.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, yourself.\u201d Starsky caught his hand, marveling that he was holding Hutch\u2019s hand and really, really wanting to do more\u2014maybe kiss? Would Hutch like that? \u201cI met your father. Knew it was him the minute I saw him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2014\u201d Hutch coughed, long, ragged and painful, his whole body spasming with the need to breathe and expel mucus at the same time.<\/p>\n

It took a moment for him to be able to speak, but Starsky was patient. For once in his life, he could wait\u2014forever, if he had to. He was content to simply be, holding Hutch\u2019s hand, listening to the harsh rasp of his breathing. Hutch was alive, and that was all that counted.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told you?\u201d Hutch asked finally, the simple question using up all his air. His nostrils flared as he inhaled greedily.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did.\u201d Starsky smiled, even though the mask covered his mouth. Hutch would know he was happy. \u201cI want to hear it from you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s lips twitched up into a weary grin and there were tears in his eyes. \u201cAlways gotta\u2026have the evidence, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know me,\u201d Starsky said softly, his heart full to overflowing. Hutch was his man. For now, for always. \u201cA trained detective.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI love you,\u201d Hutch whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cI love you, too,\u201d Starsky replied, every cell in his being rejoicing. \u201cEven if you do want to live to be 148.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch chuckled silently, holding tight to Starsky\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to ask,\u201d Starsky continued, scooting the chair closer to the bed. He\u2019d have gotten in, but it was a really narrow mattress. \u201cWhat\u2019s this thing you have with Dr. Judith?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMake you jealous\u2026\u201d Hutch\u2019s smile was nowhere near full strength, but it was still the most beautiful thing Starsky had ever seen. \u201cWorked, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a chance, buster.\u201d Starsky gently stroked Hutch\u2019s cheek, not to check his temperature at all. Hutch still radiated heat, but his skin didn\u2019t feel as hot as earlier in the day. Could that serum work that fast or was his temperature lower by happenstance? \u201cShe looks like my sister with all those curls.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGot me the serum f-first, didn\u2019t it?\u201d Hutch\u2019s voice was giving out. He clung to Starsky a moment longer before relaxing his grip. \u201cLemme thank my dad\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a nice guy. Should have invited him over for dinner years ago.\u201d Starsky glanced over his shoulder at Hutchinson. The older man was pretending to peruse Hutch\u2019s chart. Starsky didn\u2019t believe for a moment that he was reading the medicalese; he was attempting to give them privacy. \u201cGive him time to suit up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSuits me,\u201d Hutch breathed out with a hint of a smile. \u201cYou stay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat nurse\u2019ll kill me if I wear you out. You and me got lots of time to talk when you feel better.\u201d The urge to kiss Hutch was back but Starsky wanted their first lip-plant to be skin to skin. No face mask.<\/p>\n

It took every ounce of willpower to back away from Hutch and go through the door into the anteroom. \u201cHe\u2019s waiting for you,\u201d Starsky said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look different,\u201d Hutchinson said wryly. \u201cMade some decisions, did you? Heard some truths?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t get a swelled head.\u201d Starsky snapped the rubber gloves off his fingers. \u201cYou just opened my eyes to what was right in front of me.\u201d A truth that while exhilarating, was still terrifying. How could he and Hutch make this work?<\/p>\n

Hutchinson nodded, donning his gear. He had an inner peace that belied his strong, reserved exterior. Starsky would not have seen it if he wasn\u2019t looking or known the man\u2019s history. Was it really that easy?<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not what you expected, eh?\u201d Hutchinson asked with a twinkle in his blue eyes, as if, like his son, he could read Starsky\u2019s thoughts. \u201cYou\u2019ll get used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He slipped inside the isolation room leaving Starsky feeling off-center and giddy at the same time. He watched hungrily as Hutchinson approached his son. How long had it been since they were actually face-to-face? Hutch looked wary as his father came to the bed, and he coughed weakly. But when Hutchinson leaned down, taking his big tough son in his arms, Hutch broke into tears.<\/p>\n

\"th\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The next few days seemed to go by in a flash. Hutch rallied after the serum and his temperature normalized within twenty-four hours. He would need a full two-week course of antibiotics to clear the opportunistic bacteria in his lungs, but he was recovering far more quickly than many of the plague patients. Starsky came to visit as often as possible, dividing his time between Metro and the hospital, with nothing left for a social life.<\/p>\n

He truly didn\u2019t care. Hutch was<\/em> his social life; discos be damned. He reveled in Hutch\u2019s improvement. Each step took them closer to Hutch getting sprung from the hospital and giving them a chance to work out these new feelings between them.<\/p>\n

Starsky walked onto the fourth floor, remembering the brief alone time they\u2019d had the night before. Hutch had finally been moved out of isolation and into a small, semi-private room. There were so many recovering plague patients that they had to share rooms. No more medical staff constantly monitoring Hutch\u2019s every breath and peering through the window at him. Even with another man coughing and snoring behind the dividing curtain, there had been the illusion of privacy….<\/p>\n

Hutch had taken Starsky\u2019s hand the moment he’d walked in, as if there were magnets on their palms and they couldn\u2019t be separated. After a whole day apart, Starsky sometimes felt like he\u2019d lost a piece of himself. Being with Hutch, touching him, was the only thing that completed him. So far, they hadn\u2019t done anything else\u2014no kissing, or even full body hugging. <\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHutch,\u201d Starsky whispered, drinking in his fluffy blond hair\u2014the nurse had given him a bath\u2014and his clear blue eyes. \u201cYou\u2019re driving me crazy here. One kiss won\u2019t hurt.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if I\u2019m contagious?\u201d Hutch countered, attempting to keep a modicum of distance between them. \u201cStarsk, we made rules, now we stick to them. No physical\u2026\u201d He glanced down at their joined hands. \u201cOkay, no whadda you call it?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSecond or third base?\u201d Starsky pursed his lips like a fish. \u201cNuzzling, canoodling?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you need an old jalopy and a porkpie hat to canoodle?\u201d Hutch had tried to catch his breath, coughing slightly, but he\u2019d been grinning, clearly enjoying the banter….<\/em><\/p>\n

As he walked the hospital halls, caught up in his memories, Starsky smacked into Gunnar Hutchinson.<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t realize we needed a traffic light here in the hallway,\u201d Hutchinson joked, putting out a hand to steady Starsky. \u201cYou were miles away.\u201d There was an even taller man with him at the nurse\u2019s station.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was a good trip.\u201d Starsky laughed at his own joke, moving out of the way of the medical staff grabbing charts from a rack on the desk. \u201cI haven\u2019t seen you in a few days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI distracted him,\u201d the man with the luxurious mustache said, patting Gunnar on the shoulder. \u201cRick Jackson.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, the famous other man,\u201d Starsky said, shaking hands. He nodded to Hutchinson. \u201cYou introduced him to Hutch?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKen told me to stop hovering, so\u2014\u201d Hutchinson started, rolling his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWith his temper returning, I\u2019ll bet he didn\u2019t use his indoor voice, either,\u201d Starsky snorted. Hutch\u2019s ire with everything from the breathing treatments to his insistence that he could walk to the toilet and piss on his own without a damned catheter, thank you very much, were legendary. Starsky\u2019d heard the nurses gossiping about him in the halls.<\/p>\n

\u201cWith time on my hands, Rick came down and we spent the weekend in Malibu,\u201d Hutchinson explained, giving his partner a fond smile. \u201cAnd then the obligatory meeting with the family.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I play my cards right, I might get to meet daughters Karen and Sophia next,\u201d Rick laughed. \u201cI\u2019ve always wanted to visit Duluth and Rome.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOne\u2019s cold, the other\u2019s cultural,\u201d Starsky quipped although he hadn\u2019t been to either city. He looked down the hall toward Hutch\u2019s room. Judith Kaufman was going inside with a clipboard in hand. Was she giving Hutch good news or bad? \u201cTake your pick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted to stay until Ken was out of the hospital, but I can\u2019t take off anymore time from work,\u201d Hutchinson said. \u201cWe\u2019re leaving on a flight to Portland in two hours.\u201d He brushed his fingers across Rick\u2019s plaid flannel shirt. Barely there contact, still manly and acceptable in public.<\/p>\n

Starsky had often done the same to Hutch, long before he considered Hutch in a romantic light. Just the sight gladdened his heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry to see you go so soon.\u201d He\u2019d liked getting to know Hutchinson\u2014and now Jackson. He\u2019d have loved to spend time picking their brains. How did they manage to stay a couple when there were so many strikes against two men in love? It was one thing in theory, but completely another on the streets, when he and Hutch would have to deal with their colleagues on the force and\u2014\u201cHutch\u2019ll be taking some sick time, maybe he could come your way?\u201d he said as a preamble.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019d be great!\u201d Rick said enthusiastically. \u201cWe could show him around, Gun. All the hot spots.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRick likes bars and nightclubs,\u201d Hutchinson said, in mock consternation. \u201cI\u2019m sure if Kenny\u2014\u201d he shook Starsky\u2019s hand in goodbye, \u201c\u2014and David came up, we could find something more\u2026\u201d He glanced between Rick and Starsky with amusement. \u201cCultural to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m all for Rick\u2019s suggestion,\u201d Starsky said, waving them to the elevator. So Rick was more like him, and Hutch more like his father than he\u2019d probably ever want to admit \u201cHave a good trip.\u201d<\/p>\n

It felt good to have mentors in this new stage of their lives. Knowing Hutch\u2019s father, seeing the way resemblance, mannerisms, and even sexual preference had been handed down from parent to son was a revelation. Did he have his own father\u2019s movements and interests? At least he could ask his mother.<\/p>\n

He almost ran down the hallway to Hutch\u2019s room. Judith came out beaming, her cheeks bright pink.<\/p>\n

\u201cDavid!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cI\u2019ll let Ken tell you the news.\u201d Judith put a finger to her lips, clearly delighted. She hurried off with a flip of dark curls.<\/p>\n

Poking his head into the room, Starsky noticed that the bed next to Hutch\u2019s was empty. He\u2019d been in a hospital often enough to know that patients were moved to other rooms at what seemed to be nurses\u2019 whim. Good, he and Hutch could really be alone now.<\/p>\n

Hutch was sitting up in bed with a decidedly smug expression. \u201cHey!\u201d he greeted cheerfully, shucking off his hospital gown to pull on a pair of jeans.<\/p>\n

Starsky enjoyed the distraction of Hutch\u2019s naked chest for half a moment. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJudith kissed me and said that I\u2019m\u2014\u201d Hutch said, zipping up the fly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou kissed her before me?\u201d Starsky asked all in a rush, stunned. What the hell?<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s sudden silence told him more than words could have. He picked his pale blue shirt with the embroidered guitar off the bed, sliding his arms into the sleeves. \u201cShe kissed me<\/em>,\u201d Hutch said in a tight, controlled voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch stood up far more quickly than Starsky had expected he could after such a long illness, using those two extra inches in height to intimidate. \u201cClose the damned door,\u201d he ordered, wrapping all five fingers around Starsky\u2019s arm in a crushing grip, not an ounce of lingering weakness.<\/p>\n

Startled, Starsky kicked back with one leg to swing the door shut, jerking his arm to escape Hutch\u2019s grasp. Hutch shoved Starsky up against the closed door, kissing him rough enough to knock their teeth together. Starsky\u2019s breath caught on an exhale. He was dizzy and so hard his groin throbbed.<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s lungs sold him out. He had to break the seal of their mouths, panting as if he\u2019d run a marathon. Starsky pulled him close, both arms around that big, solid body, amazed how huge Hutch felt in a clench. His sudden envy had evaporated completely with the full proof of Hutch\u2019s love. If the kiss hadn\u2019t provided enough evidence, the iron rod tenting Hutch\u2019s jeans and ramming itself uselessly into Starsky\u2019s hipbone settled the case.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been wanting to do that for weeks,\u201d Hutch rasped, letting Starsky lead him back to bed. \u201cShe was happy that I got better, that all the plague patients are recovering.\u201d He gazed at Starsky with a goofy grin. \u201cI love you.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky gently ran his fingers through Hutch\u2019s hair, smoothing it back into place. \u201cI love you,\u201d he replied, certain in his love but not how to work out these new feelings. \u201cYou\u2019re always flirting with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch shrugged. \u201cShe\u2019s a woman; I\u2019m a guy. Flirting\u2019s expected, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen did you ever go along with the crowd?\u201d Starsky asked wearily. How could they make what they\u2019d found between them work if they couldn\u2019t even get past social conventions. \u201cWe haven\u2019t even had any time to be together.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch took Starsky\u2019s hand between both of his, holding it reverently. \u201cThe question inside me has finally been answered after all these years, but\u2014\u201d He glanced at the door, a decision made. \u201cCan we talk about this in the car?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the car?\u201d Starsky asked stupidly, too many emotions broiling in his brain.<\/p>\n

\u201cSurprise!\u201d Hutch chuckled self-consciously, acknowledging the subject change. He buttoned his shirt like a man on a mission. \u201cI didn\u2019t tell you. Judith was here to give me my get out of jail card.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s terrific!\u201d Now there was news to be excited about. Except, for some perverse reason, Starsky felt scared. \u201cIs she sure? Did she do any tests? I mean, what happens if you\u2026if you\u2019re still sick?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStarsk,\u201d Hutch said, picking up release forms from the bedside table. He grabbed his tan leather jacket in the other hand and headed out the door. \u201cAll signed and approved. Let\u2019s go!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe car\u2019s in the parking lot.\u201d Starsky followed, his heart bursting and he wasn\u2019t exactly sure of the reason. Why wasn\u2019t this easy? They were in love\u2014there should be angels with bows and arrows flying around them, not this sensation that they were standing on the deck of a ship during a hurricane.<\/p>\n

\"th\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Hutch inhaled as he looked out the windshield of the Torino. Breathing still occasionally made his lungs ache, but each breath was precious, something to be savored. For the first time in seventeen days, he felt like he was home again. Funny that a car would be the place he\u2019d missed the most. A car he wanted to repaint. But this rolling red and white Coke can meant normalcy, life, and most of all, Starsky.<\/p>\n

Starsky.<\/em><\/p>\n

He glanced at his partner\u2019s profile. Starsky was navigating the big car out of the hospital parking lot with single-minded determination. He didn\u2019t glance at Hutch once.<\/p>\n

In spite of that\u2014Starsky knew Hutch\u2019s innermost feelings. He hadn\u2019t run away or turned Hutch into some Anita Bryant group for sexual perversions. Starsky loved him! That admission was the main reason Hutch had survived, he was sure of it. His father\u2019s support and love had healed other internal wounds.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d loved Starsky silently for years, through more than one disastrous hook-up or affair with various women. Starsky was his soulmate, his intended.<\/p>\n

\u201cDrive up Mulholland, would you?\u201d Hutch asked quietly, pointing at the sign for the famous road.<\/p>\n

Starsky\u2019s lips twitched and his eyes slid in Hutch\u2019s direction. \u201cYou want to make out?\u201d he asked sarcastically, turning off Sepulveda onto Mulholland Drive.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want someplace private to talk, just the two of us, away from phones or well-meaning drop-in visitors,\u201d Hutch replied, watching the eucalyptus trees flash by as they climbed steadily up the steep roadway. Between houses, the hillside was dry, grass brittle as kindling. Southern California needed a good winter rain to renew and refresh. He knew the feeling.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhadda think the rent would be on a place like that?\u201d Starsky asked idly, driving by an elaborate wrought iron gate. The house wasn\u2019t even visible behind a huge privacy wall. \u201cThink a movie star lives there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch was comforted by Starsky\u2019s emerging chatter. That meant they were back on square one. The trick was to pass go\u2014without collecting two hundred dollars\u2014and find their way. They were making their own path.<\/p>\n

Eventually, Starsky bumped the Torino off the pavement and onto a dirt overlook. The entire valley was spread out below them: the Hollywood Bowl, the letters spelling out Hollywood on a hillside to the east, and even the familiar brick towers guarding the entrance to the police academy.<\/p>\n

Hutch didn\u2019t look at any of the famous sights; he turned in his seat to gaze at his partner. The man he loved. Starsky was clearly tired, had probably lived on too much coffee and donuts and not enough healthy fare. Hutch knew the intense pressure of having a partner in the hospital: the jumble of fear and worry when he had to be on the job, unable to sit with his sick friend.<\/p>\n

He reached over, brushing his hand through Starsky\u2019s halo of thick, soft curls. Starsky\u2019s hair spiraled out in a dozen directions, defying the BCPD rules about length. That was Starsky, going his own way. Hutch couldn\u2019t imagine not walking shoulder to shoulder with him. This love could make or break them.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou need a haircut,\u201d he said softly. Simply an opening gambit. He had to approach the subject that stood like an elephant between them carefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo not.\u201d Starsky didn\u2019t move away from the caress, however much he jutted out a stubborn chin. \u201cStart talking. You\u2019re the one that wanted to go to Lover\u2019s Lane to chat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch trailed his hand down Starsky\u2019s shoulder and back into his own lap. He needed distance to get it all out. \u201cYou asked when I\u2019d followed the crowd\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky nodded, his expression wary, waiting to judge.<\/p>\n

Hutch swallowed. \u201cI thought that\u2019s what it would take to fit in, that tagging along with the popular crowd would change the uncertainty I felt.\u201d He shrugged, recalling high school, even early college when the sole fact that his parents were divorced had been a strike against him. He\u2019d walled off the unmanly urges that had him sneaking peeks at Jack Mitchell in the locker room instead of Lisa Lundgrin. \u201cI kept looking for something that would make me…happy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky shifted in his seat, pulling his leg up until his knee was jammed against the gear shift in between the seats, almost touching Hutch\u2019s bent knee. He was listening, his eyes riveted on Hutch.<\/p>\n

Stifling the cough that rumbled in his lungs, Hutch continued, \u201cI married Van; I did what the guidance counselor, my grandfather\u2014told me to do. Study, get a good career, and settle down. Nothing filled the ache. I kept looking for something that made me feel good about myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

He frowned, inpatient with himself. This was even more difficult than he\u2019d expected and the fatigue left over from the plague was starting to eat at his willpower. He wanted to sleep, but he needed this resolved first. Whether or not he and Starsky went forward as a couple, he couldn\u2019t rest until things were okay between them.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot even sure why anymore, I chucked studying law for the police academy. Being a cop seemed like it would matter, like it would be giving back\u2014to the universe, to\u2026me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky smiled. \u201cI remember orientation day at the academy. You were such a blond farm boy, those big feet getting in my way.\u201d He tapped Hutch\u2019s boot, leaving his hand there as if he needed the contact. \u201cI couldn\u2019t take my eyes off you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMeeting you,\u201d Hutch said, covering Starsky\u2019s hand with his own. Was the best day of my life.<\/em> \u201cBeing with you felt good, but that\u2019s not the way it was supposed to be, right? Another guy wasn\u2019t supposed to fulfill me the way a good woman would, a family, all that crap\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Starsky rubbed his thumb against Hutch\u2019s palm. \u201cWhen I talked to your dad, I\u2026\u201d He wet his bottom lip, emotions flitting across his face. \u201cYou and me, Hutch, we\u2019re like something I never expected, and until I met your dad, I would never\u2019ve acknowledged that you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the one person I love unconditionally,\u201d Hutch whispered. \u201cAbby, Gillian\u2014they were all wonderful in their own way, even Van, but they weren\u2019t you.\u201d He blinked, refusing the tears pricking his eyes and the back of his throat. Just a side effect of the virus, that\u2019s all.<\/em> \u201cEvery time one of them left, I went back to you until\u2026I opened my eyes, and recognized that you were the one who completed me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn, Hutch,\u201d Starsky ground out.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re my everything, nourishing my soul.\u201d Hutch flipped their joined hands, pulling Starsky\u2019s hand to him. He kissed Starsky\u2019s knuckles.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis ain\u2019t gonna be easy, is it?\u201d Starsky asked sadly. \u201cWe still have to act like regular guys in the eyes of our friends, cops at work\u2014Judith.\u201d<\/p>\n

“By the way… Judith’s leaving in two days, soon as the last of the patients are released.” Hutch could drown in Starsky’s blue eyes. He basically already had. \u201cBesides…when did impossible odds ever stop us?\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky grinned, one of his brilliant, crooked ones where his face radiated joy. \u201cNever. C\u2019mere.\u201d He jerked Hutch forward, kissing him as if releasing every ounce of love he\u2019d been storing up.<\/p>\n

Hutch was swooning when they came out of the clench. \u201cWho\u2019s Judith?\u201d he joked, surrendering to the cough finally. It ripped through his lungs but didn\u2019t shatter him the way coughing had only a few days earlier.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s my boy,\u201d Starsky said fondly, running a finger over Hutch\u2019s bottom lip. \u201cYou fought back and you won, Captain Marvel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI had a super hero in my corner.\u201d Hutch pressed a kiss against Starsky\u2019s thumb. This all felt so new, he wasn\u2019t quite sure where to begin. It wasn\u2019t anything like the relationships he\u2019d had with women. He and Starsky had such a primal connection. There would be hurdles ahead, but they would go over them together.<\/p>\n

A yawn that morphed into a cough definitely spoiled the moment.<\/p>\n

Starsky regarded him fondly. \u201cYou need to be in bed. With soup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou going to feed me?\u201d Hutch asked hopefully. That sounded nice. Better than nice. It sounded wonderful. Especially after over two weeks on hospital fare.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll do better than that.\u201d Starsky started the car, backing up to drive down the steep curves of Mulholland once again. \u201cBecause you\u2019ve been sick, I\u2019ll get takeout from that new organic rabbit food place you like so much. They must have soup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFarm Picked?\u201d Hutch asked with delight, rubbing his aching chest. No peanut butter burritos or greasy pepperoni pizza? Starsky really did love him. \u201cI wish my father could have stayed around longer. We could have shown him Bay City, maybe had dinner at Farm Picked\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s going a bit too far.\u201d Starsky made a particularly gruesome face and stuck his tongue out at Hutch. \u201cI liked your dad. And I figured, since you got sick leave coming\u2026I haven\u2019t used a vacation day in over a year. Portland\u2019s s\u2019pposed to be a nice place to visit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want to visit my parent\u2014\u201d Hutch paused, considering his words. He\u2019d never really thought about it but if Rick was his father\u2019s\u2026spouse? That made him Hutch\u2019s stepfather. That was something else he had to get used to. The brief meeting in his hospital room an hour ago had left an impression of a nice guy. They had spoken on the phone a time or two when Rick answered Hutch’s calls. \u201cYou want to visit my parents on the first date?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI figured the two of them could give us some pointers.\u201d He winked with a wicked gleam in his eye. \u201cAnd if we get past the first date, maybe you\u2019d take me to the prom, Kenny.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNever call me that.\u201d Hutch stabbed his long forefinger almost into Starsky\u2019s nose. \u201cLove only goes so far, buster.\u201d They had all the time in the world to perfect what was between them, as long as love was at the foundation.<\/p>\n

FIN<\/p>\n

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

Right click and save to download the story in epub format. Right click and save to download the story in pdf format. Looking through the anteroom window, Starsky didn\u2019t have to guess the identity of the man standing in the … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-458","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-slash"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=458"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":606,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions\/606"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=458"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=458"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2014\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=458"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}