A bouquet of roses and lots of thanks to Solo and SHaron for all their help scanning and proofing these classic stories of Constance Collins! This story originally appeared in the zine The Fix #13. 

Comments about this story can be sent to: VenicePlaceAngel@aol.com

I. O. U.
Constance Collins

"Asshole," Starsky muttered, slamming the door behind him as he entered the room.

Colby looked up. "You talking about me?" he asked mildly.

"Not you. Hutchinson."

Colby went back to his book. "Don't talk about our roommate like that. I'd have to call you out to defend his honor, and that'd ruin a perfectly serviceable friendship."

Starsky wandered around the room, putting away his clean laundry, mumbling to himself. 

Finally Colby put down his book. "If you're talking to me, you'll have to speak up, and if you're talking to yourself, I wish you'd hold it down."

"Sorry."

"I don't mean to be nosy, but what the hell's got you so pissed off, anyhow?"

"That damn arrogant asshole we've got for a roommate."

"Again? Now what?"

Clean socks in his hand, Starsky sat down on the edge of Colby's bed. "You won't believe what he did."

Colby'd heard that he-didn't-know-how-many times before from both his roommates in reference to each other, which often made him wonder why they spent so much of their time together. "Yeah, so, what'd he do?"

"Okay, you know I finally got him to agree to go to that terrific Chinese pizza place I found?"

"Yeah, so? What'd he do, stand you up again?"

"No, we went last night, and we split a shrimp and chicken pizza, and when we went to pay the tab I realized I didn't have my wallet with me."

"What'd he do, leave you there to wash dishes?"

"No, he paid the bill."

Colby wasn't getting it. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, that part's okay. Then, on the way home, he put five dollars worth of gas in my car, 'cause I was nearly on empty, an' he doesn't believe that even on empty there's still a quarter of a gallon in the tank."

Colby had heard this before, too, many times, including the one time they had run out of gas and Hutch had had to walk to the next service station -- four miles each way -- but he kept quiet about it. "And now he's bugging you about it, wants the money back right away?"

"No! Now he won't let me pay him back!"

There was a silence while Colby digested this. "So?"

"So? I was taking him out to dinner -- it was supposed to be my treat."

"So? It'll be your treat next time." Again, Colby resumed his reading.

Starsky shook his head. "I'm not gonna let him get away with this. I'm gonna make him take that money back."

"You know something, Starsky? You're weird."

The argument between them went on day after day. First Starsky slipped the money into Hutch's wallet in the middle of the night. It was under his pillow the next morning. Then he put it into Hutch's pants pocket; he found it in his own pocket the next day. Back it went into the wallet; it was returned to his own wallet. And when they weren't playing hot potato with the money, they were bickering about it. Colby observed it all, first with an amused, if confused, detachment, then with a progressively sarcastic irritation.

"Starsk, for the last time, just forget it. I don't want your money."

"But --"

"I know, it was supposed to be your treat. How many times do I have to hear this? Just keep your money, you can save it up and buy me a nice birthday present."

"You're my pal, Hutch. Can't you just do this one thing for me?" Starsky pleaded.

Hutch sighed. "Starsky, you're nuts. It's not a king's ransom or anything -- why won't you just forget it?"

Colby had had enough. "I cannot believe that for the last week the two of you haven't had a single topic of conversation other than -- how much money is it?"

They responded simultaneously. "Nine dollars and seventy-one cents."

"A stupid nine dollars and seventy-one cents. It it'll straighten things out between the two of you, why don't you just make it an even ten and give me the money? "

For a moment Starsky and Hutch stared at him as if he was talking gibberish, then Starsky picked up their argument where they'd left off.

"I owe you this money -- I don't like the feeling of owing anybody anything, even you." 

Hutch couldn't completely hide a smug smile. 

"Yeah, and you know that and you like it and and that's why you won't let me pay you back! Dammit, Hutchinson, that's dirty pool --"

"That's it," Colby picked up his tray. "I don't care what you do with the money, but I'm not eating lunch with you two again until you've found something else to argue about."

***

And suddenly it stopped. From what Colby could deduce from Hutch's continued self-satisfied attitude and a certain sulkiness about Starsky, that Hutchinson had won this particular battle. Colby found it surprising that Starsky would give up -- stupid, Quixotic battles seemed exactly suited to a certain aspect of his character; it was the one thing he and Hutch had in common.

***

"Hey, Hutch?"

Hutch sighed, untwisted himself from the singularly uncomfortable position he'd ended up in the back seat of the Torino, and sat up. He leaned over the seat, near Starsky's ear.

"Yeah, Starsk?"

"How long we been partners?"

"Did you wake me up to ask me that?"

"No."

"Seven years. Why'd you wake me up?"

"And we've been friends for --"

"Over ten years. What's the matter, I forget our anniversary, or something?"

"You don't send me flowers any more."

The silly, dolorous tone of his voice made Hutch laugh. "There'll be a dozen red roses on your desk in the morning, if you let me get some sleep. It's your turn to watch and mine to sleep, remember?"

"You remember Ping Pi's Pizza Palace?"

Hutch frowned. "Did we bust them last year --"

"No, we went there ten years ago." 

"Is that the place I got food poisoning?"

"No, it's the place where you had to pay the bill because I forgot my wallet."

Hutch frowned, trying to remember. Then it came to him. "Back in the Academy? When you kept trying to hide money in my clothes to pay me back?"

"Uh-huh. "

"You still sore about that?"

"Nope, not for a long time."

"You just woke me up to remind me?"

Starsky shifted around in the seat so he was facing Hutch. "No, I woke you up because I wanted to give you something."

Hutch sighed again. Generally, Starsky's presents were nothing to wake up for. Starsky dug something out of his pocket and handed it over the seat to Hutch.

"Here you go. Your money -- with interest."

Hutch took the bankbook from Starsky, looking it over curiously. It was an old one; he hadn't seen one like it in years. His name was on the inside. There was one deposit -- nine dollars and seventy-one cents, then each month the interest was painstakingly added in. After ten years, the amount was absolutely astonishing.

"Starsk ..."

His partner was grinning at him. "You could use it to put a down payment on a decent car. Anyhow, now it's my turn to sleep."