They strode passed the bar with a synchronized lift of their chins and nod of their heads which he understood to mean both “Hi Hug.” and “Coupla beers, please.” Then they wove their way to the back booth.

Starsky and Hutch had a way of carrying their weariness with a certain dignity, as if the necessity of it was taken for granted, just part of ( Read more... )

Hutch closed his magazine and placed it on the stair beside him. He squinted up at the springtime sun beaming down bright and hot on Starsky’s driveway and slipped out of his flannel shirt. The tee shirt underneath was damp with sweat. He wished he was wearing cut-offs like Starsky was. He would have had he known he’d be waiting this long.

“How much ( Read more... )

Hutch woke early and eased himself up, leaning his back against the headboard. Dawn peeking around the corners of the window shade gave the bedroom just enough light to see the outline of Starsky asleep next to him, his chest rising and falling with silent breathing so hard won Hutch never took it for granted.

Recovery had led to intimacy, then ( Read more... )

Hutch left Dobey behind on the hillside and got in the Torino, slamming the door shut harder than necessary but needing some sort of physical outlet and in the absence of anything to push or punch, the door would have to do.

He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and fingered the leather of Starsky’s badge wallet before pulling away in a cloud ( Read more... )

This is another little mini story in answer to Prompt Fic: Week 14  LJ S&H Community   http://starsky-hutch.livejournal.com/1472015.html?view=10209551#t10209551Read more... )

This is just a little mini story in answer to Prompt Fic: Week 14   LJ S&H community   http://starsky-hutch.livejournal.com/1472015.html

This is in answer to prompt:  Hutch's mom + Starsky's mom; comparing notes
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( short little story here )

Hutch finished cuffing Santa and turned him around. He leaned him up against the Torino and told Starsky to read him his rights.

“Awe, c’mon Hutch. We can’t arrest Santa on Christmas Eve,” Starsky whined.

“Starsk, first of all this is not Santa. It’s a guy in a red suit and fake beard. And second, he’s drunk. And third there’s complaints about him.” ( Read more... )

Hutch returned to his desk and received exactly the the look he’d expected Starsky to give him. It was becoming harder and harder to find excuses to get away and Starsky was becoming more and more suspicious. No, that wasn’t the word, because Starsky trusted him. More like worried. Starsky deserved an explanation, but Hutch still couldn’t explain ( Read more... )

i just posted a new story called TIEMPO ( Read more... )