Monday morning
Boss is back from vacation and talking to me, again, the way she does, and I'm trying - and so far failing - to send
iuliamentis's mom an email assuring her that
daveamongus is not one of the X number of Marines mentioned in this morning's headlines, but who wants to think about any of that?
This weekend, while cut off from my own computer (and watching a lot of TV to keep myself distracted) I wrote a tiny little snippet of Starsky & Hutch for
iuliamentis, who agreed to share.
Out of nowhere, three hours into possibly their most boring stakeout to date, Starsky said, "I'm thinking I should start working out."
Hutch continued staring at the house for a few seconds, until he actually heard what Starsky had said. "You what?"
"I should start working out, don't you think? I mean, you're always saying--"
Hutch shifted sideways on his seat to face his partner, just as Starsky leaned forward and propped his chin on the wheel, taking up where Hutch was leaving off in staring out at the house. "Starsky, I never say."
Starsky rolled his eyes, "Maybe not out loud, Hutch, but I ain't *blind*."
Hutch scooted closer, reaching out automatically into the shadow of Starsky's body, his hand landing on his partner's stomach. He could feel body hear through the t-shirt, the familiar slight curve pressing against the palm of his hand, and he probably should have wondered when there came to be so many odd spots on his partner's body that fit his hand this way, but he didn't, because that would mean thinking about it. Instead he said, "Aw, Starsk," and then nothing else, because Starsky turned to look at him, and their eyes met and held, and it was one of those weird moments they kept having more and more often lately where they both just *stopped* and words failed. He pressed his fingers a little against the slight softness of Starsky's stomach, felt him breathing maybe a little fast, and heard himself say, from a long way off, in a jokey tone that he couldn't quite believe was coming out of his mouth right now, "Come on, don't, you'll make me jealous."
And Starsky's mouth somehow twisted into the right kind of smile, just like Hutch had somehow said the right thing, and Starsky said, "Well, we can't have that." Hutch felt Starsky's words, his breath, under his hand, and smiled back, and then he knew he had to pull his hand away, and a minute after that, he actually did.
He patted Starsky's cheek, to take away the cold feeling in his hand when he moved it, and said, "Yeah, don't ever change, okay?" And then Hutch slid back to his side of the car, and kept his hands curled in his lap as he turned his head to look out the windshield at their target.
Starsky sat back too, staring forward again, and after a minute he chuckled a little, and said, "Yeah, Hutch, we won't ever change." Hutch nodded, but he knew they were lying. They both knew, and knew it so well it was the same as telling the truth, between them. They were like a car out of control, racing downhill, headed for something, and whatever it was - a safe stop or an explosion that took out dozens of innocent bystanders - it was going to be one hell of a change.
This weekend, while cut off from my own computer (and watching a lot of TV to keep myself distracted) I wrote a tiny little snippet of Starsky & Hutch for
Out of nowhere, three hours into possibly their most boring stakeout to date, Starsky said, "I'm thinking I should start working out."
Hutch continued staring at the house for a few seconds, until he actually heard what Starsky had said. "You what?"
"I should start working out, don't you think? I mean, you're always saying--"
Hutch shifted sideways on his seat to face his partner, just as Starsky leaned forward and propped his chin on the wheel, taking up where Hutch was leaving off in staring out at the house. "Starsky, I never say."
Starsky rolled his eyes, "Maybe not out loud, Hutch, but I ain't *blind*."
Hutch scooted closer, reaching out automatically into the shadow of Starsky's body, his hand landing on his partner's stomach. He could feel body hear through the t-shirt, the familiar slight curve pressing against the palm of his hand, and he probably should have wondered when there came to be so many odd spots on his partner's body that fit his hand this way, but he didn't, because that would mean thinking about it. Instead he said, "Aw, Starsk," and then nothing else, because Starsky turned to look at him, and their eyes met and held, and it was one of those weird moments they kept having more and more often lately where they both just *stopped* and words failed. He pressed his fingers a little against the slight softness of Starsky's stomach, felt him breathing maybe a little fast, and heard himself say, from a long way off, in a jokey tone that he couldn't quite believe was coming out of his mouth right now, "Come on, don't, you'll make me jealous."
And Starsky's mouth somehow twisted into the right kind of smile, just like Hutch had somehow said the right thing, and Starsky said, "Well, we can't have that." Hutch felt Starsky's words, his breath, under his hand, and smiled back, and then he knew he had to pull his hand away, and a minute after that, he actually did.
He patted Starsky's cheek, to take away the cold feeling in his hand when he moved it, and said, "Yeah, don't ever change, okay?" And then Hutch slid back to his side of the car, and kept his hands curled in his lap as he turned his head to look out the windshield at their target.
Starsky sat back too, staring forward again, and after a minute he chuckled a little, and said, "Yeah, Hutch, we won't ever change." Hutch nodded, but he knew they were lying. They both knew, and knew it so well it was the same as telling the truth, between them. They were like a car out of control, racing downhill, headed for something, and whatever it was - a safe stop or an explosion that took out dozens of innocent bystanders - it was going to be one hell of a change.
