DINNER FOR TWO

Hutch treats Starsky to a long overdue dinner. Missing Scene from Sweet Revenge.

Beta Read by ProvencePuss

David Starsky stepped out of the shower and carefully reached for the towel hanging over the rack to dry off. A sharp pull in his upper left chest cautioned him to move slowly. It had been less than four months since he had been gunned down in the Police parking garage, the victim of an assassination attempt. He had suffered four gunshot wounds to his torso. Massive damage the doctors had said. The various specialists assigned to his care considered him a medical miracle. His heart had even stopped beating twice, once during the surgery to save his life when he arrived at the hospital, and once in the Intensive Care Unit a little over twenty-four hours later. The second time, his heart started beating the minute his partner, Ken Hutchinson, burst through the doors that led into the intensive care like an avenging angel. The doctor trying to shock his heart back into beating had been ready to give up and pronounce him dead. All and all, he was damn lucky to be alive.

Starsky had stopped trying to analyze the unique relationship between Hutch and himself. It just was what it was. That was all that mattered to him. Closer than brothers, some people swore they were two halves of the same soul sharing two separate bodies.

Their lives had become so intertwined over the years that sometimes Starsky wasn’t sure where he stopped and Hutch began. He had no doubt that he would never have survived if it hadn’t been for Hutch’s loving care and support.

He had only been out of the hospital for a little over a month and still couldn’t do very much for himself. Hutch had taken a leave of absence from the police force to move in with him and become his fulltime caretaker. Starsky really hated the loss of his independence and his current state of vulnerability. He knew that he would never have been able to tolerate anyone else but Hutch caring for him so intimately during his recovery. Until a few days ago, Hutch had to help him do everything, including taking a shower and going to the bathroom. Thankfully, he had finally regained enough strength that the doctor had given him permission to do a few, more personal things, on his own. But he was still dependent on Hutch for so much. Every day Hutch changed his bandages, helped him get dressed and undressed, helped with most of his personal hygiene, cooked his meals, and made sure he got to his various appointments.

When he had finished drying off, Starsky wrapped the towel snuggly around his waist and went into his bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he called out, “Hey, Hutch! I’m done!”

The bedroom door swung open and his big blond partner came into the room, smiling brightly. “Great. Let’s get you dressed. I got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Starsky said enthusiastically sounding like a kid on Christmas morning. He smiled his trademark crooked smile, one of the few genuine smiles Hutch had seen since the shooting. Anyone who knew the brunet, knew that he loved presents and surprises. There was a childlike side to Starsky that very few people, other than Hutch, were ever privileged enough to see. It was a trait that Hutch found particularly endearing, a characteristic that Starsky never seemed to lose no matter what life threw at him.

Gently slipping his arms underneath the brunet’s armpits, Hutch helped Starsky to his feet. Starsky placed his hands on Hutch’s shoulders to help balance himself as Hutch helped him into his black cotton briefs and a pair of loose fitting jeans. Starsky’s surgical incisions were still too tender for him to wear the tight fitting jeans that clung to him like a second skin that he usually wore. Easing him back down onto the bed, Hutch picked up the light blue tee shirt and slid it over Starsky’s left arm first. Starsky had only minimal use of that arm because of the damage that had been done to that shoulder. Unfortunately, since his left hand was also his dominant hand that also limited what he could do for himself. With infinite care, Hutch stretched the shirt so it fit over Starsky’s head and then helped him slip his right arm through the sleeve. He smoothed down the shirt and then knelt down to put on Starsky’s socks and his trademark Adidas running shoes. Stepping back, he viewed Starsky with a critical eye, making sure he looked presentable.

“So?” Starsky said with a soft chuckle “Do I pass inspection, Mom?”

“Yes, son.” Hutch deadpanned with a straight face. They shared a laugh as Hutch helped Starsky back to his feet, slipping a secure arm around his waist as they walked towards the living room. Starsky’s eyes lit up in surprise when he saw the transformation of the living room had gone through while he was in the shower. Hutch had moved the sofa against the far wall and sat the living room table in the middle of the room.

It was covered with a white linen tablecloth and two places were set with fine china and crystal. Two white candles sitting in the middle of the table were lit, the flames flickering softly in the dimmed overhead lighting. Hutch helped Starsky sit down in one of the plush overstuffed chairs with the curved backs and padded arms.

Starsky giggled when a mutual friend, Huggy Bear, a tall thin man who owned a local bar and grill that the two detectives frequented, came out of the tiny kitchen. He was dressed in a starched white apron with an elaborate chef’s hat perched on his head. Instead of his usual flamboyant attire, he was dressed in neatly pressed black slacks and a white shirt.

“Okay…what gives?” Starsky asked trying to hold back his laughter.

Hutch sat down in the seat across from him and reached out to clasp Starsky’s right hand tightly. Leaning forward, he looked deeply into the brunet’s sapphire eyes with a fond smile on his lips. “I still owe you a three course meal. Remember?” the blond said softly. The smile faded from his lips. “I know this isn’t exactly what we had planned but it’s the best I could come up for now.”

“Awww, Hutch…” Starsky said, having trouble speaking past the sudden lump that rose in his throat. The day he had been shot, he and Hutch had played a game of ping pong in the squad room with the winner getting a three course meal at a restaurant of his choice. Starsky had won that bet and they had been teasing each other about Starsky’s various choices for his free meal when the shooting occurred. Starsky ducked his head but not before Hutch saw the glint of a tear in his eye.

“I talked to the doctor and he gave his okay for you to go off your diet just for tonight…as long as none of the food was too spicy and you didn’t overdo.” Hutch told him smugly. Since the shooting, Starsky had continued to have problems with his digestion system. Some foods he could tolerate but others he could not, especially the spicy foods he loved so much. And sometimes, whatever he ate came right back up no matter how careful they were. He had lost almost thirty pounds since the shooting, leaving him gaunt and haggard looking. Slowly, he was putting the weight back on, tempted by Hutch’s imaginative creations designed to be both nutritious and fattening.

“Including a small glass of wine for the gentlemen.” Huggy said, filling each wine glass with white wine. Staying in his role, Huggy slipped back into the kitchen, returning with two soup bowls which he sat in front of each of his friends with a flourish. The first course of their shared meal was a bowl of mushroom soup with a garnish of parsley on top. The servings were smaller than usual to compensate for Starsky’s decreased appetite.

“Hutch, this is great.” Starsky said sincerely as he took a tentative bite of the soup. His voice cracked on the sentiment, touched deeply by Hutch’s gesture. He blinked back the sudden tears that sprang to his eyes. Since the shooting, his emotions had been on a constant roller coaster, always dangerously close to the surface. Any other time it would have been a source of embarrassment for the brunet but he consoled himself with the knowledge that Hutch understood.

“Hey, buddy…if anybody deserves this…and more…you do.” Hutch said, his eyes shining with happiness at being able to share this moment with his best friend. They finished their soup in silence. Huggy immediately cleared away the dishes and served the main course. Maine Lobster tails with New York Strips. Starsky’s meat had already been cut up into bite sized pieces and the lobster meat scooped out of the shell to compensate for his limited use of his left hand. The meal also included a baked potato with sour cream and chives, and peas in a light cream sauce.

Everything was cooked to perfection, the meat so tender it almost melted in Starsky’s mouth. He knew that he was truly blessed to have friends like Hutch and Huggy looking after him. He ate his meal with pleasure, pleased with himself when he was able to finish everything without feeling nauseated. For desert, Hutch had chosen Chocolate Mousse with whipped cream. By the time the meal was finished, Starsky’s eyes were growing heavy, both from the heartier than usual meal and exhaustion.

“Come on, sleeping beauty.” Hutch said with a chuckle “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Aww, Hutch…” Starsky whined “Can’t I stay up for a little bit longer?”

“And fall asleep on the sofa? No way. Come on. It’s time for your meds anyway.”

Starsky sighed and allowed Hutch to help him to his feet, the mention of his numerous nighttime meds sobering him up instantly. For just a few minutes anyway, he had been able to forget his invalid condition and feel normal again. He knew that eventually things would get better but until then, tonight would be night to remember.

THE END