Category: Safe for Work

Hutch glanced up as his husband-to-be emerged from the bedroom knotting his tie. “Hey, why are you all dressed up? We’re going to Huggy’s.”

“Yes, and he said there were people he wanted us to meet before the wedding. I’ve put out some clothes for you.”

“Seriously? You want me in a suit?”

“You look spectacular in a suit, and you know you do.”

Hutch stood up reluctantly, then pounced on Starsky and pulled him close for a kiss. “Do we have to go? Couldn’t we…?”

Starsky returned the kiss, then pulled away. “We do. And anyway, aren’t you curious? Huggy wanting to meet us right out in the suburbs?”

“I’m more curious about… oh, all right! I’ll get changed! This had better not be some glorified burrito joint, though.”

Hutch thought he heard Starsky mutter “a guy can hope” and grinned as he reluctantly went to change, emerging ten minutes later in a pearl grey suit, white shirt and blue silk tie, still grumbling, but simultaneously preening a little under Starsky’s admiring gaze.

“I want us to make a good impression. I think whoever we’re meeting is important to Hug. Come on — we still have to find this place! Can you grab those presents? The red ones by the tree.”

Half an hour later, they were driving slowly down a tree lined road, with neat front lawns and sparkling Christmas trees in every window, but no sign of any sort of restaurant, burrito joint or otherwise.

“You must have got the address wrong,” Hutch said. “There’s number 92, but it’s a house…”

“Well, that’s what he said. Maybe we’re meeting there then going on to the restaurant? Oh, come on! Stop being a grump — it’s Christmas!”

Hutch pinned on a smile, and they rang the doorbell. As it chimed, the door was flung open, and Huggy greeted them, arms outstretched. A Huggy practically unrecognizable in chinos, a blue Ralph Lauren button down and tassel loafers. His visitors stared — speechless.

“My two main men! Welcome! Come and have some champagne. Nothing but the best for the grooms-to-be!”

Looking at each other in bafflement, Starsky and Hutch followed their friend into a cozy L-shaped living room. There was a big Christmas tree in the window, and rising from a brown velour couch, a smiling woman with a baby in her arms. Huggy went to take the baby and she came forward, arms outstretched. The little boy clinging to her skirt was overcome with shyness and went to sit on the floor with a grinning Labrador.

“It’s so lovely to meet you at last! James has told me so much about you — and we’re so excited for your wedding! Shall I call you Ken and Dave or Starsky and Hutch?”

“The two gaping codfish would be more appropriate!” Huggy said. “My dear, may I present the individuals who have been referred to, although obviously not tonight, as Bay City’s finest? Starsky, Hutch — my wife, Mariella. This is baby Clara, and the individual hiding behind Honey is Joseph. He’ll come round in a few minutes. I hope I can say the same about you two!”

Mariella laughed. “I think they’ve had a shock, James. I’ll get the champagne and give you three a chance to recover.”

She beckoned to the boy and the dog and shooed them out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Starsky and Hutch simultaneously collapsed onto the sofa.

“Huggy — how long has this been going on?” Starsky asked.

“Eight years in January. Coincidentally, we will share an anniversary, which you might find useful. I never forget.”

“‘James?'”

“I just can’t….”

“How on earth did you…?”

“We had no idea….”

“Why…?”

Huggy grinned at his two friends, silenced at last. “Undercover work is not the sole preserve of the white man. Ah, and here comes the champagne.”

Part 1 is here

Suddenly, Hutch awakened — the lights had come on in the store and he could hear voices. He wished he could stretch, but he was still trapped in the stiff body of the nutcracker. He wished he could have a cup of coffee — but that wasn’t likely either. The disappointment was nearly overwhelming.

Then he heard a voice. “Hutch, you awake yet?”

The relief that washed through him at hearing that beloved voice was incalculable. “Starsk? Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Good. Glad to hear your voice.” Starsky sounded relieved too.

“We’re still… under the spell or whatever it is,” Hutch said ruefully.

Starsky seemed to hesitate before responding. “Yeah, we are. But at least nothing’ got worse overnight.”

Only Starsky could take something terrible and still make Hutch feel better. “You’re right, babe. You always see the bright side.” Continue reading “December 9th: A Michael’s Miracle Part 2 by April Valentine”

Author Note:  For Gale Lorden

Hutch didn’t actually open his eyes, he could just suddenly see. One minute, he’d been at a weird Christmas party that Starsky had dragged him to and the next… no, that wasn’t quite right.

Yes, Starsky had dragged him to a Christmas party full of weird people neither of them knew, with smoke in the air and macabre decorations, like trees that were black and ornaments that looked like they were dripping blood…

Hutch shuddered. Or he tried to. What was this? He felt like he couldn’t move. Anyway, one minute, Starsky had been teasing him about the mistletoe, pulling Hutch to stand under it, about to plant a kiss on his lips, and the next there was just nothingness — dead silence, blackness, chilling cold and then the whistle of a high wind —

and then this — this wherever he was. It was no longer dark and thank goodness the wind had stopped, but Hutch was slowly realizing that he literally couldn’t move. Continue reading “December 8th: A Michael’s Miracle Part 1 by April Valentine”