SquidgeWorld Archive

Sometimes the Winds Are Gentle
By Elizabeth MacIntosh

It was the need for a cigarette that woke him. The light coming in through the window had been enough of an irritant to begin the process, but the need for a cigarette, followed immediately by the urge to piss, finally completed the procedure.

At first he tried to pull himself from the bed without waking the woman beside him, but then gave up, pushed the sheet away from his sticky body and headed for the toilet. When he returned, he grabbed the half-empty package of cigarettes and lit his first of the morning. God, they tasted terrible this early. He pulled in the first drag and couldn't stop the cough that choked from his lungs.

"Baby, you shouldn't smoke so much."

"Gonna be my doctor now?" He inhaled once more, then put out the cigarette and leaned over to clamp his teeth around her waiting nipple.

"God, Ken! Aren't you ever satisfied?"

"Never," he mumbled, his mouth too full to say more.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she forced his head to remain at her breast. In fact, she pulled him closer and he bit harder until she moaned and he pulled her legs apart. "I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll never forget me."

Her only answer was her legs as they clamped around his back, pulling him in.

*********

How could February be this hot? Why didn't he leave this place and go somewhere that actually had a season other than "hot"? Ken Hutchinson straightened his tie and ran the comb through his thinning hair once more. Why didn't he do a lot of things? How had he managed to end up like this? Fifty-six years old and all he had to show for it was the title of Police Commissioner, three disintegrated marriages and four kids, all of whom still needed his support in a monetary sense if not a physical sense.

He slid behind the wheel of his Lexus and headed for work. Traffic was a nightmare, but then that was no different than usual. So what the hell was the matter? He had felt something nagging ever since last night. Brenda was beautiful. She had been uninhibited in their lovemaking. So she was younger than he was. What did that matter? All the beautiful women were younger than he was now. Well, maybe that much younger was stretching it, but when he dated Heidi, they made love morning and night for a month. Heidi had only been twenty-five and he had kept her satisfied. Brenda was good for at least another couple of weeks.

His office was stuffy. The air conditioner was on the blink again, and the secretarial staff was bitching about the new computer virus that had gotten into the hard drives of the entire system. There was the latest freak still running loose in the downtown section and the cops on the beat couldn't seem to tell their asses from third base when it came to rounding up any clues as to who the guy was. By mid-morning, Commissioner Ken Hutchinson needed a break.

To make matters even worse, there was a thunderstorm building. He could feel it in the air the moment he stepped outside the building and lit another cigarette. Waves of heat rippled from the parking lot as he headed for his car and the sky darkened its original smoggy brightness to a dull gray.

And that odd feeling of something building, ready to explode, persisted. Something was waiting to happen and he didn't know what it was or where to look for it. Not like in the old days. There had been a time when his feelings were the only thing that had kept him alive. His intuition had very often made the difference between life and death. His feelings and his partner...

Impatiently he started his car and pulled into the nonstop traffic. Punching in numbers on his cell phone, he told the office he would be gone for the rest of the afternoon and to cancel any further appointments. Something he didn't do very often. Still too responsible for his own good. Then he tossed the phone into the seat beside him and let the traffic pull and push him wherever it wanted.

There were times when he wasn't even sure where he was. It was all familiar, but it seemed like an eternity since he had seen any of the landmarks. In the old days, he had known this city like the back of his hand. He had known every twist and turn, every bump and rut that the road had to offer. Now it all seemed like a dream. It all seemed ages ago, in a different time, a different life. Everything had changed.

He turned on the air conditioner full blast and kept going. It just seemed right to give up and let whatever was bothering him take over for now. The clouds grew and the wind began to pick up. Ken Hutchinson felt like his emotions had been caught in the powerful pull of a tornado. Without even paying attention, he pulled into a nearly empty parking lot and turned off the engine. Then he realized where he was.

Home of Peace
Established 1855
Current Location Since 1902

It was a cemetery. And it was familiar. He had been here before, but not for a very long time. He suddenly noticed that he had already opened the door to the car, and the breeze that seemed to be driving the sun behind the dark clouds suddenly sent a chill up his spine. God! What was he doing here?
The odd feeling, that premonition of something building, was stronger. It was pulling him unmercifully now. Without a backward glance, he left the car and began to walk. Overhead a brief flash of lightning was followed by a soft rumble of thunder. "Fool!" he berated himself. "You're going to get struck by lightning and they'll find your body fried in a Jewish cemetery a million miles from where you're supposed to be. What are you doing, Hutchinson?" But he kept walking.

He lost track of the parking lot. He lost track of the walkway. The clouds seemed to gather and the sun disappeared completely. The glorious morning had turned into the gloom of near night. And the feeling that had started this entire escapade had reached a peak that was nearly intolerable. If something didn't happen soon, he felt like he would scream.

And then he saw what had been drawing him inescapably since last night. Ahead, off to the left of the walkway, was a man leaning over a grave silently placing a single red rose on the stone. His heart stopped. He felt it. One moment the organ had been pounding frantically, trying to keep pace with the building apprehension. And then suddenly, there was no beat at all. No breath. No blood moved. Life froze. His heart refused to move.

"Starsky? Is that you?" His stomach took a nose?dive which left him feeling dizzy and nauseous.

The head jerked up...curls still there after all these years. A little grayer, a little shorter, but the curls were still there. God! He was wearing jeans and a blue t- shirt. Oh, God! Oh, shit! This can't be happening! I can't survive this.

"Hutch! I didn't want you to find me."

The world exploded.

After all these years, the pain he had so carefully tucked away deep inside his soul seemed ready to cascade out and engulf him. All the carefully concealed feelings exploded into reality with nothing more than the simple sound of this man's voice.

"Damn you! You've been gone for twenty years! Just left! One day we're talking about what we're going to do with our lives after Gunther, and the next day you're telling me that you're leaving and you won't be back! And now you're telling me you didn't want me to find you? Damn you, David Starsky! Goddamn you!" He began to cough, suddenly unable to catch his breath.

He didn't know when he had started crying but the tears seemed to pour down his face. Another snap of lightning was followed by a sharper burst of thunder. The noise jolted him into action. It took only two long steps to come face-to-face with Starsky. He grabbed the front of the t-shirt and pulled the man into his arms. And the sobs from both drowned out the thunder that followed the next flash of lightning.

*********

They sat on a stone bench in a grotto protected from the lightning. The rain was pouring down now, and lightning flashes lit the sky. They were both soaked. Starsky's t-shirt was clinging to his body. Hutch had shed his suit jacket and draped it around Starsky's shoulders. Somehow he couldn't seem to drop the hand he had clasped after releasing his partner from that first embrace. After the anger, and then the tears, he could only hold Starsky close to him until the lightning had driven them to take shelter in the tiny grotto close to Terri's grave.

But Starsky had not been so controlled. Usually in tight hold of his emotions, he continued even now to sob. Gently, Hutch put his other arm around the shaking shoulders and pulled Starsky closer. They sat silently listening to the thunder until the tears finally started to slow.

"Why did you come back?" Hutch finally asked.

"Twenty-five years." Somehow that made sense. It was as if they were one again, even after all the time apart. Two parts of one whole. One always knew what the other was thinking. There was no need to ask any more questions but Starsky continued.

"She's been dead for twenty-five years. I felt like I had to come." He took a deep breath. "I found out a few years ago from her sister that she was pregnant when she died. She was carrying our baby, Hutch. No one ever told me cause I guess the whole family kinda held me responsible for her death. But I just keep thinkin', maybe...maybe if she'd stayed in that hospital. Maybe if I'd insisted...God, Hutch! I don't even know if our kid was a boy or a girl." Tears threatened again, and Starsky stopped to take another trembling breath.

"She was my wife, even if we never did do the synagogue thing. She and the baby were my family, just like you, so I had to come back...just to remember..." He stopped again and clasped his hands tightly in his lap in front of him. He raised his face skyward and the wind blew in rain to add to the tears. And..." he added hesitantly. "And...I missed ya, Hutch. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't stay away any longer. Things happen in life...makes ya realize just how fragile it all really is. I missed ya, and I just had to see ya again."

Reaching over, Hutch blotted the moisture from Starsky's face with a handkerchief he had pulled from the breast pocket of his coat. "I missed you too, buddy."

"How did you know that I'd be here?" Starsky asked, looking down at his clasped hands again.

"I knew something was going to happen since sometime last night. I realize now I could feel you. "

"My plane landed around seven."

"Yeah." It was not a question.
"I should have known you'd be waiting..."

"Yeah. Come on, we're going to my place. We can talk some more when we get there."

"There's a lot to say."

"Yeah."

The rain had slowed and they left the shelter of the grotto. Starsky stopped only for a moment at Terri's grave. He knelt and gently laid his hand on the stone where her name was engraved. Hutch looked away for a moment, then knelt beside his partner. "Come on, buddy. Let's go to my place. Then we can talk."

Not saying a word but giving a slow nod, Starsky rose to follow Hutch to the parking lot.

*********

Brenda was there, but Hutch asked her to leave without a thought. She was not offended and even seemed to be grateful for the release. As she walked toward the door she gently stroked his crotch and proposed to return later to collect her things. Hutch dismissed her without much interest in the implied offer.

He closed the door and turned to stare at his partner. Older, yes...but then they both were. His hair was definitely shorter and starting to gray, but still thick with curls even though he had them smoothed down now. He might have put on a few pounds, but not many. His body was still muscled and the wrinkles that were around his eyes seemed to come from experience and not age. Somehow though, it was the eyes that gave him away. Windows to the soul. The eyes always told the tale, and Hutch lowered his in an attempt at self-protection.

"Starsk, you're still soaked. I'll get you some sweats. At least let me get your things dry. The bathroom is that direction. Get out of those wet things and I'll get them dried out for you."

That same old crooked smile lit the familiar face. Starsky pulled the soggy t-shirt over his head. Hutch's eyes froze on the scars, still visible on both his chest and back, silent reminders of the suffering that his partner had survived so long ago. They were no longer red and angry the way they had been the last time he had seen Starsky. Now they were faded, muted, a part of the body that bore them.

Hutch made a quick trip to the bedroom and dug into the dresser drawer for the new pair of sweats that he had just bought. Returning, he tapped on the bathroom door and handed them inside to Starsky.

Suddenly left alone, Hutch felt a jolt of panic. He bolted to the refrigerator and checked to make sure there was beer. On his way, he shed his shoes to be rid of the soft squishing sound they made. By the time he returned to the living room, Starsky had reappeared and held out the sopping jeans and shirt.

"Sit down," Hutch began. Then, realizing it sounded like an order, "Please. I'll get a beer."

Still clutching the wet clothes in one hand, he returned to the kitchen and pulled out the six- pack. Now carrying both the wet clothes and the beer, he returned to Starsky and offered him the soggy clothes instead of the beer. Again the crooked smile. "Hutch, stop. I'm not going anywhere. Calm down."

His face turned pink and he set the six-pack on the coffee table.

"Sorry. I guess you don't need these wet things."

Returning to the kitchen, he dropped the clothes in the sink and added his ruined coat. He'd think about the growing pile later. Making another stop in the bedroom, he grabbed another jogging suit that lay across the dresser and shed the rest of his own wet attire. Without conscious thought he pulled on the jogging suit and returned to the kitchen, dropping his things into the sodden pile of clothing in the sink. Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he returned to the living room.

Starsky was sipping his beer, taking in the room. On Hutch's return he looked up and smiled again. "This somehow doesn't seem like the 'you' I remember. I don't even see your old guitar around anywhere."

Hutch glanced around. Modern, crisp, efficient. The "right" decor for a police Commissioner.

"It's been a long time. A lot's changed."

The dark curls nodded slowly. "I guess so."

"You heard Dobey died a few years ago?"

"Yeah. I went to the funeral." Hutch wasn't surprised to hear that He had been too busy to attend. It had happened right after he had been elected to the job of Commissioner and he had been unable to make the trip to Florida where the Dobeys had retired. There had been too much responsibility here for him to just take off and leave. But he had known that Starsky would be there. Starsky always kept up on what was happening to those he left behind.

In a sudden, clear picture of his own life, Hutch realized that he could never have kept those ties. Everything he had done in the last twenty years had been an attempt to hide the pain which this man's leaving had caused him. That part of his life had died a sudden, tragic death in order for his own continued survival.
"Edith is doin' good. She's in a retirement home, still in Florida. She seems to like it down there. Says it's nice and warm and the home makes her feel like it's safer than what she had to deal with around here. It was pretty hard on her after the cap'n died, but Rosie and her husband had her staying with them for a while and that sorta helped some."

"Little Rosie's married?" Hutch was surprised. Somehow, in his mind, Rosie and Cal were still Dobey's little kids. Funny how things never seem to change when you place them far enough out of sight.

"Yeah! And she's even got a brand new little girl. Named her Constance Marie. They call her Connie. She's as cute as a button! And Rosie's husband is a lawyer. One of the good guys, too."

"Sounds like you see a lot of them."

"I write to Rosie some. Use the computer a lot. And I try to visit Edith in the home at least once a year."

"What's Cal up to?"

"You didn't know? He's studying to be a doctor. Goin' to some school here in California. I thought maybe you were keepin' up with him. Sounds like both of the cap'n's kids have made good lives for themselves. He would have been proud."

"Yeah."

The silence seemed to close in for a moment, and Starsky reached for another beer from the pack on the coffee table. Hutch lit a cigarette and went for an ashtray. When he returned, Starsky looked up and asked, "How's Huggy?"

"Huggy?"

"Yeah, Huggy."

Another name he had tried to push away into a place where the pain of memory would never resurface. "Oh, God! Huggy. Yeah. I haven't thought about him in years. Good ol' Huggy. Damn! The last time I heard anything about him, he was heading off to some island in the Caribbean to work for one of his relatives doing God knows what."

"And?"

"And? And, what? That's all I know. He just sorta...dropped out of sight. I can't keep up with everyone in my life I ever knew!"

Hutch began to feel uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. His life was involved. His life was complicated. His job kept him busy. He didn't have time to keep up with every snitch or kid of a former boss who he had ever come in contact with, did he? And the memories where better left buried where they could not arouse the hurt which went with them.

Starsky eyed him for a moment. "How are you, Hutch?"

The question seemed rhetorical. If Starsky knew so much about Huggy, and had even kept up with Dobey's children, he had to know about the things which had happened in Hutch's life.

A feeling of panic suddenly gripped Hutch. Why was this man doing this to him? He had laid the pain to rest long ago, hadn't he? It was hidden somewhere deep inside, no longer able to hurt like it once had. Why was Starsky trying to bring all the pain to the surface again?

In a sudden rush of words, Hutch began to try and rebuild the walls that he had used for protection this last twenty years.

"Me? Hey, I'm great." He raised his arm to indicate the house. "Nice place to live. A good job. I'm the Police Commissioner, you know. Can have a woman whenever I want one. And a young woman, too. Had a couple more wives since you left..." The words "since you left" hung in the air threatening, but he tried not to pause and pushed on. "Got four kids, too. Kathy, Janet, Peggy and Tina. Course, they all live with their moms. All I do is pay for the little scamps. But I do get to see them now and then."

Hutch finished his cigarette and stamped it out. Then immediately reached for another.

"You had a son, too." Another statement of fact.

Hutch physically jerked back, taking the cigarettes with him. This was another memory that Starsky had no right to exhume. And this time the pain was too powerful for him to even begin to face.

"How did you know?" In his effort to hide the pain, he realized that irritation was creeping into his voice. Since Starsky had left, he had tried to completely close off that part of his life. Without Starsky beside him, life had become a worthless piece of tinsel, much like the kind a person would hang on a tree at Christmas. There was a lot of sparkle and glitter, but not much substance. Once there had been the hope that, if he could forget Starsky and everyone he had known at that time, the pain of loss would not be so great. Now, seeing Starsky in front of him, he knew it hadn't worked.

"I knew. I knew everything that happened to you. Did you think I wouldn't?" Starsky closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "Tell me about your son, Hutch."

Hutch continued to smoke. He turned his back to Starsky and blew the smoke towards the ceiling. How could he tell this man about his son? All the girls looked like him, blond and blue-eyed. But his son had looked like his mother. He could still see the dark curls that surrounded the child's face.

Hutch took another drag on the cigarette and then extinguished it, too.

"He was the youngest. Got hit by a truck when he was just three. DOA. After that, Jennifer and I split. Too much blame. Too much guilt. Neither one of us could handle it..." Hutch paused to light another cigarette.

The words seemed to jerk out in a effort to hide the pain which speaking them had caused. Hutch was silent for a moment, trying desperately to get some control over the shaking which threatened to make his voice break. Then he continued. "His name was David."

"I'm sorry. I should have come. But I thought it would only cause more problems."

Hutch's eyes suddenly flashed and stabbed Starsky with poorly concealed fury. "You could go to Dobey's funeral, but not one for my son?"

Starsky closed his eyes once more, unable to bear the accusation. Starsky's head bowed and in a voice no louder than a breathe, Hutch heard him whisper, "Oh, God! Was I wrong? All these years, and was I wrong, even from the beginning?" The mumbled words ended with the sound of a sob. Then louder he said, "I didn't think you would want me." Starsky's hand covered his as he reached for another cigarette.

"It's a little late now don't you think, buddy?" Hutch emphasized the last word. "It seems like you've been really good at making decisions for other people!"

Then unable to hold back the anger and hurt any longer, Hutch pushed the pack of beer away and sat down in front of his former partner. There was no room for both of their knees, and Hutch forced his to separate those of his friend and find a place in the space between them. Struggling to remain calm, refusing to meet the blue eyes, he took a deep breath and began.

"Why?" That was as good a place to start as any. He knew Starsky would understand the question.

For the first time since they had seen each other, Starsky couldn't look at his face. Both sets of blue eyes focused on the two pair of knees in front of them.

"Why did you leave me?" The voice was barely a whisper.

"I had to, Hutch." Starsky's words brought a gasp from Hutch. "Please, let me finish. I knew someday I'd have to pay for what I did then, and I've thought long and hard about how I would ever be able to explain myself.

"You've got to remember what sort of shape I was in then, Hutch. We both knew I wasn't gonna be able to go back on the street. After what those bastards did to me, I was lucky to be able to stand up. Hell, I counted it a great day if I could make it to the toilet to piss without somebody helpin' me. And I wasn't stupid either. I could see what it was doin' to you."

Hutch watched Starsky's eyes as he spoke. Even after all these years, they still remained the windows to his soul. What were the emotions that seemed to flash through so quickly? They might easily have been lost, but Hutch was finally beginning to reconnect with this man who he had loved with all his heart. Some of what he read in those eyes was the remembrance of the physical pain which that time had brought, but there was more. Much more. Was there guilt under that carefully drawn mask? Emotional pain was becoming more and more evident also, but the thing which surprised Hutch the most was the dawning realization by Starsky that something had gone very wrong in the way things were supposed to have turned out for Hutch.

"You were killin' yourself. Takin' care of me all night and goin' back out on the street during the day. And you kept tellin' Dobey that you didn't want another partner. Kept insisting I'd be back in no time, when we both knew it wasn't gonna happen."

Hutch watched as Starsky took a deep, shaky breath and raised the beer to his lips again. After swallowing, he finally raised his eyes from their joined knees and took yet another breath.

"I was holdin' you back. I was killin' ya, babe. You had so much potential and I knew that you'd never go ahead and do the things that you needed to do with your life if I stayed."

The lighter blue eyes suddenly met azure blue ones. Hutch suddenly felt satisfaction at the physical shock which he could see fire through Starsky's body. It seemed to affect him like a jolt of electricity, so powerful that the body jerked against the back of the couch. Do you finally see what you've done? Did it take you this long to finally figure it out?

Hutch's voice came out low and ominous. "You left me because you thought you were holding me back? How could you do that to me? What did you think you were giving me? Life without you? What the hell good has that been?"

Starsky silently focused his gaze on the ceiling above and bit down hard on his lower lip. With his head tipped back, he sat silently fighting the tears that threatened. It was a losing battle, and slowly they worked their way from the corners of his eyes and began to trickle back toward his ears.

Hutch watched the shimmering path of the tears. Deep in his throat, he felt an ache building, begging to be released. When was the last time he cried? When his son had died, and before that, when Starsky had left. Now here Starsky was, the man who had caused him to bury all the pain and live the charade of the life that he had now. He should revel in these tears. He should be able to take some delight in seeing this man suffer for what he had done. But somehow, he could not do it. The ache continued to build.

"Hutch, stop and look at yourself. Look at your life. Do you see what you have? You're not so blinded by hurt that you can't see how much your life means. You must see all the good that you've been able to do without me. If I had stayed and ever been able to go back out on the street again, we would both have probably ended up getting blown away in some stupid shoot-out. Without me, you've been able to make some sort of difference in the way things are. Your life has been worthy and everyone has benefited from the things you've done."

The ache in his throat was slowly been replaced by a building fury. Before he could even think, the words escaped. "Worthy? My life? Worthy? A job that I keep just for the money and prestige? A life that doesn't even have someone to share it with? I think your little self-sacrifice might have backfired here, buddy. Something seems to have gone amiss with all your well-laid plans!"

Hutch crushed out this cigarette, but this time he failed to reach for another. The anger had built to a point he never would have expected. There was no way he could stop the words now.

"Two important words in that nice little speech, pal. 'Without me'. What gave you the right to choose? Couldn't you see that without you, I really didn't care what happened? Starsk, when you left, you took away the only person in my life I've ever really cared about. Didn't you know..." He stopped. Don't go there. Don't do this. There's no going back if you keep going in the direction you're heading, Hutchinson. But he could no more stop what he had to say than he could stop the sun from rising in the East. "Didn't you know that I loved you?"

The answering sob caught in Starsky's throat. "Oh, God, Hutch. I knew, but that's why I had to do it. I was more dead than alive then. I knew but I just couldn't take advantage of it any longer. You were killin' yourself! I couldn't watch ya do that any longer and know it was because of me."

"Goddamn you! You had no right!" Hutch was off the coffee table and began to pace erratically. "You had no right! You took away the only reason I had for living and you never even bothered to explain. You took away my life and left me with nothing but an empty shell!" The words had escaped before he even knew they were coming.

Starsky leaned forward and dropped his face into his hands which lay in his lap. Sobs wracked his body, making it shake as if he were still wearing the cold, wet clothing he had on when he had first arrived. Outside, the rain began to pound against the windows again and the wind whipped the manicured shrubs around the front of the house.

"Hutch, I've gotta go. This was a mistake. I should never have come back." His voice caught in his throat. "I should have left things like they were..." He jerked to his feet, searching for the keys to the rental car he had borrowed for the trip to the cemetery.

"NO!" The words exploded across the room. "You will not leave me again. You're going to stay here and you're not leaving this room until things are straightened out between us. For twenty years, the memory of you has made my life a living hell. I've been through two more marriages since you so calmly walked away. Both failed because I couldn't love those women the way I loved you. I've had five kids. Good kids. Perfect in every way...except I could never give them the love I had for you. And the one I named after you was taken away from me, too. By God, you're staying right here until this thing gets worked out, or...I swear I'll kill you where you stand. Or maybe I'll just make it easy for you and I'll eat the bullet myself!"

Even after all the years in an office job, Hutch still had never been able to break the habit of wearing his gun. It still slid from the holster in one slick move, and Hutch now stared at it with an interest born of desperation. Seemingly fascinated by its feel, he automatically flipped off the safety.

"Oh, God, Hutch, no! Please, don't do this. God, please..." Starsky was at his side. "Please don't. If you do, I swear I'll use it again before your body hits the floor...We'll die together, babe. If that's the way you want it, we'll go together. Me and thee, babe. It always has been...always will be. Me and thee."

"And you couldn't remember that twenty years ago? Where the hell was the 'me and thee' then?" Without realizing exactly what he was doing, Hutch waved the gun wildly. In the same moment as the next flash of lightning, Starsky grabbed for the moving weapon. Taken by surprise, Hutch lost his grip and the gun fell heavily to the floor sending a stray bullet flying errantly through the far wall. The crack of thunder and the explosion of the gun echoed through the room at the same moment. Without thinking, Hutch grabbed Starsky in his arms and pulled his face close to nestle against his neck, one hand protectively covering the dark curls.

"Oh God, Starsk! Are you okay?"

He felt the nod from the curly head but heard no reply to the question. Pulling back only slightly, the two now stood face-to-face with Hutch's arms wrapped securely around Starsky's trembling body. The two pairs of blue eyes met. Hutch could feel Starsky's warm breath brush his lips. They were so close that each man's heartbeat could be felt by the other.

Gently, and with the softest of sighs, Hutch leaned down a fraction and lightly pulled Starsky's next breath into his mouth. He felt a tremble, but he remained still and waited for the following breath. When it came, he touched the lips from which it had escaped and managed to catch most of it, too. But there was no more waiting for the next breath. Strong arms suddenly enfolded him and his lips were parted as the sweet questing tongue, tasting mostly of beer and Starsky, plunged into his mouth.

The two bodies melted together, each trying in any way possible to absorb more of the other. Their breathing stopped. Time seemed to be on hold. Outside the rain slowed to a subdued patter, and the wind gentled to caress the dripping trees.

"Don't leave me. God, Starsk...please. Never leave me again. Without you, I'll die. Please stay. You can live here with me. Please, don't go away again."

His hands slid down from their clutch around Starsky's upper back and wormed their way under the sweatshirt he wore. The feel of his naked back sent tiny shocks of electricity all the way from the palms of his hands to his groin. He touched every inch of the back. He felt the old scars, now a part of the man he had loved for years. Their kiss had broken, and Starsky threw back his head, eyes still closed. Hutch's mouth found his bare throat and latched on, tasting, sucking, inhaling, feeling every inch of the soft skin that was there.

"Hutch. Think! I can't stay with you. You have a job, a position in the community. You have responsibilities. I can't stay."

"Damn the job and damn the responsibilities! Ever since you left, all my life has amounted to is some sort of responsibility that I'm supposed to carry out for others. God, Starsk...it's time for me now. Life doesn't last forever. I'm tired of living it for everyone else. Screw everyone else. I've finally gotten back the only thing I've ever wanted from life, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna give it up. From now on, it's 'me and thee' babe. Screw the rest of the world. Just 'me and thee'."

Starsky seemed to melt into Hutch's embrace. "God, I love you so much, Hutch. Me and thee. Okay, we'll try it. Me and thee..."

Outside the wind softly swayed the trees and the moon finally broke from behind the thinning clouds. The droplets from the damp foliage fell to the ground and the gentle wind slowly began to dry the rain that still clung to the leaves.