Happy Birthday, Hutch (S&H fic - gen - short)
I wrote this story for Bee's birthday. It's not very long.
~1100 words
Happy Birthday, Hutch
by Allie
"Hey! Apologize to the man! It's his birthday." Starsky gave the criminal a push towards the Torino, scowling.
"Hey, sorry man," said the drug dealer. "But everybody's gotta make a living!"
"Oh yeah? Not like that, wise guy." Starsky pushed him into the back seat and glanced at his partner, brows tightening in concern. "Y'all right there, Hutch?"
"Fine." Hutch bit the word off, scowling and trying not to rub his side. The man had gotten a good blow in before Starsky dragged him off and cuffed him.
Catching a drug dealer while taking a punch on his birthday wasn't the best celebration ever. Then again, it was better than not catching the man and letting him push his wares on the kids that walked to and from school past this corner.
"Hey." Starsky glanced over at him again as they drove to the station to book the man. "We're gonna have a great birthday meal, y'hear?"
"Starsk, would you stop? I told you, I don't want to celebrate-"
"Well, I want to celebrate! I'm glad you're still here, partner." He gave Hutch a quick grin.
Hutch's cheeks heated. "Thanks, but-" He didn't like being reminded of getting older. And he didn't want a fuss. Except for when he did. "You don't have to get me anything."
"Don't worry. I didn't."
"Oh."
"Just a meal, Hutch." He reached over and put a hand on Hutch's thigh, giving it a reassuring pat. "You gotta have a meal."
Hutch grimaced at the thought of the restaurant Starsky would probably pick for him. Somewhere with world famous, heartburn-inducing chili dogs no doubt. And donuts for dessert.
#
"Huuuutch. Would you come on?" Starsky kicked his chair back under the desk and stood over Hutch, leaning forward, palms on the desk they shared, bent forward and watching Hutch.
"I'm just-" He cursed as his finger slipped and he glared at the typing mistake he'd just made. "You gotta give me a second here, Starsk!" He looked up and frowned at his partner, at Starsky's impatient, appealing expression.
"Okay, okay." He straightened and raised his hands. "It's just the reservations…"
"What, do we have to change or something?" He snorted at the thought. They were probably too well-dressed for Starsky's choice of restaurant! Briefly he considered the thought of them having to go home to change into rattier clothing-jeans with holes in them, maybe.
Paint clothes and tattered t-shirts.
Starsky's gaze narrowed, and he looked tough the way only he could, all street-smart and sassy curls. He crossed his arms. "What, you don't think I know any nice restaurants, Hutchinson?"
"Uh…no?" Hutch smiled up at his partner, the teasing look he knew would irritate and charm Starsky equally.
"Well, I do! So hurry up!" He strode past the desk with cocky steps, giving Hutch a swat on the shoulder as he passed, and then rustling his partner's messy blond hair. "And you gotta comb that mop too, Detective!"
He tried to straighten his hair with his fingers, frowning after Starsky. "Mop?! Look who's talking!"
#
"You know what the best thing about this restaurant is gonna be, Hutch?"
Starsky stood in front of his partner, a little smile curving his face into a happy look, touching his eyes and making him look younger, almost like a kid. Some days, Hutch envied that, with his receding hair line and feeling of getting older and more cynical every day. He wished he could defy age the way Starsky did. Age really was just a number to Starsky.
"What's the best thing?" asked Hutch, holding his hands still at his sides and smiling a little as Starsky fixed his tie for him. He could've done it himself. But it was nice that Starsky wanted him to look good, nice that he was taking such care.
They both wore black suits and black ties. As if it really was a fancy restaurant. For once, Hutch didn't mind dressing up. It might just mean he wouldn't have to eat a hotdog slathered in mouth-burning chili. Even Starsky wouldn't dress up to go to a chili-dog restaurant, would he?
Would he?
"The best thing is I can bring Louise!" He grinned so much his whole body seemed to vibrate with it. "There." He stood back, eying his handiwork with satisfaction. "You look great, Hutchinson. Definitely not your age."
"Th-thanks. But what's this about Louise?" He stared at his partner. Starsky really liked his guinea pig, but taking her to a restaurant? That was a bit much!
Starsky shrugged broadly. "She likes lettuce and crap. And we're goin' to a lettuce-and-crap restaurant." He gave Hutch a big wink. "See? You think I don't notice what you like. I do!"
"Wha-" Hutch gaped. "You mean a health food place?" Had a new one opened up near here? Maybe he hadn't been paying attention….
"Yep. Bet you thought I was gonna make you eat hamburgers on your birthday, huh?"
"Chili dogs."
"Mm. That sounds good." He licked his lips. "But nope, just salads and stuff today, for my birthday boy." He gave him a big wink.
Hutch grimaced. "Ugh. Don't call me that! It reminds me of being
ten years old!"
"Are you kiddin'? That's the best age to have a birthday! You're not too old for toys, or so young you end up cryin' before the ice cream gets dished!"
Hutch laughed in spite of himself at the thought of Starsky as a little curly-headed rascal, getting upset on his birthday and not calming down till his parents gave him ice cream. "I bet you were wild when you were little, probably didn't want to sit still for a minute."
Starsky nodded proudly. "Yep. I got into everything! I bet you did too."
Hutch grimaced. "I always had to wear my best clothes-the itchy ones."
Starsky drew back a little, eyes widening, smile deserting his face. "Hey." He laid a hand on Hutch's chest, giving a gentle and reassuring pat. "If you don't want to go out, it's okay. Or you can change into something more comfortable. I don't mind."
Hutch smiled. "Ha. No. I don't mind. I just get sad on my birthday sometimes, thinking about getting older, you know." He shrugged, and then put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "C'mon, let's go to that restaurant!"
"All right! But first, we gotta stop and get Louise. She's gonna love it." He bounded from the apartment with a big grin on his face.
"Er… You were joking about Louise. Weren't you, Starsk? Starsk!" He hurried after his partner, grabbing his jacket on the way.
The end