Thine Eagle Home

***********************************

Thine eagle home
Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come.

When the Lamp Is Shattered by Percy Bysshe Shelley
*************************************************************

'I think we must've missed the exit.  Check the map again.'

'Yes, sir...  Nope.  We have a few miles to go yet.  Relax.'

'I don't relax when I drive, Hutch. You know that. More coffee.'

'Coming up.  But, Starsky, we're only going a short distance down the coast, not all the way to Tierra del Fuego.  You're acting like we're on safari into darkest Africa.'

'You're right, we aren't.  We're on safari into darkest Southern California.  Way more dangerous.  Way.'  Starsky took a big gulp of his coffee, as if they might not have such luxuries in Port Justine.

'Starsky, listen.  If you don't want to do this, we won't do this.'

'Who said I didn't want to do this?  Look, Hutch!  Is that the exit up ahead?'

'Yeah, I think so.'

'Don't just think so.  Check the damned map.'

'Dammit, Starsky.  Next time I drive, and you check the damned map. Why didn't you let me drive, in the first damned place?'

'Because I wanted to drive.  Is that the exit?'

'Yeah.' said Hutch.  'It's the damned exit.'

'See?  That wasn't so hard, was it?'  Starsky turned the Torino into the off ramp.  'Finally,' he said. 'We're almost half-way to the Baja.'

Hutch sighed, and gazed out his window at the passing scenery.  If Starsky was this hyper only one hour out of LA, what was their life going to be like, if they were so reckless as to actually move to Port Justine?  He wished -- and not for the first time -- that he'd never broached the subject.  But, if he hadn't given Mayor Blake's offer a chance, thoughts of lost opportunities would be niggling at the edges of his mind for the rest of his life.  The most likely scenario, was that the whole set-up would be wrong for them both.  They'd make polite noises, and leave.  Don't call us, we'll call you.  Then, he could put the whole thing out of his mind forever.

Of course, once he considered that option, other possibilities flooded his mind.  A beautiful slice of heaven on earth.  A place where he and Starsky could live together openly, with everyone knowing they were lovers and accepting it.  His family, and Starsky's family, coming for Christmas and Hanukkah. Something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.  Ridiculous, he thought. I don't even like Christmas.  And this was Southern California, not Rockwell Country.

'What's'a'matter, Babe?'

'Huh?  Oh.  Nothing important, Starsky.  Just... my mind is full of garbage, these days.'

'Oh, yeah?  As opposed to other days?'  Starsky turned to give him a quick, loving smile.  'What kinda garbage?' he asked.

'Nothing important, like I said.  I'd like... it would be nice if....'

'You'd like this job offer to work out.  I know.  You'd like me to like this town, to be happy there.  I know.  What's wrong with all that?  Why call it garbage?'

'Because....'

'Because you think it can never happen?  But, Hutch, you have to make it happen.  If you want something bad enough, you can't sit back and wait for it to happen.'

'Starsky, I can't make it happen.  Either you like the town or you don't.  I can't make you like it.'

'No.  You can't make me like it.  But you can ask me to try, and you did.  Now, it's up to me.  Oh, wow!  Hutch. Look at that.  Isn't that pretty?'

The town was pretty.  Port Justine was hidden away in a little, sheltering cove.  High upon a bluff, an old Spanish mission gazed down on a beach that Norman Rockwell might have painted, if he'd lived there and been so inclined. As they drove closer, they could spy lovely Spanish villas, English cottages, and American bungalows scattered along the quiet streets.  It seemed that eclecticism was the order of the day. He refrained from asking Starsky what he thought.

'So, Babe?  What'd'ya think?' asked Starsky, who had no such inhibitions.

'Um...  This isn't LA, Starsky.'

'No.  It's not.  It'll take some getting used to, Darlin'.  I'm not going to kid you, there.  But I'll manage.  I can commute, like I keep tellin' you.  We aren't that far away from LA.'

************************

'I guess this must seem like thousands of miles from LA, to you guys.'

'Uh....'  said Hutch.

'Not really, Mayor Blake,' said Starsky.  'Maybe... hundreds of miles.  How's that?'

'Well, Mr. Starsky, we are rather sheltered here, from the troubles of the big city.  Or we were, until a few years ago.  Urbanization is beginning to creep up on us.  I suppose we should have expected it, and planned for it.'

They were walking about the gently sloping streets.  Hutch saw no signs of trouble.  Everything was neat and clean.  The lovely homes looked freshly painted.  Perhaps too freshly painted, he thought.

As if he had read Hutch's mind, the mayor commented, 'So far, we've been able to fix most of the trouble with a few coats of paint, and a little repair work.  So far.'

'So far?' said Hutch.  'Are you expecting worse?'

'Expecting?  No.  Dreading is more the term I'd use.  I'm caught in a bind, gentlemen.  The citizens of Port Justine want something done about the growing violence, yet they don't want anyone taking away their rights and freedoms.  They don't like the idea of having a real police department, yet they want real police protection, from real police officers.  They can't have it both ways, as I keep telling them.'

'No,' said Hutch.

'You see, having a police department must seem like giving in to them.  Admitting we're not exactly a nice, quiet town any longer.'

'Seems like a nice, quiet town to me, Mayor Blake.  What's been going on, exactly?'

'Well, let me give you a little potted history of Port Justine.  It started out as a mission town.  You must have noticed the Mission, when you drove in. The sheriff used to live up there, for a while, before he resigned.  It's sitting empty, right now.  Anyway, after the mission closed down, the artists and musicians moved in.  They like their parties, and occasionally their orgies.  We don't interfere, and everyone gets along.  They're not partial to violence.  They don't go around defacing property.  Unless you consider modern music violent, and modern art a defacement of property.  It's all a matter of opinion, I would say.'

'So, who is causing the problems?' asked Hutch.

The mayor opened his mouth to explain, then stopped dead in the street, and held up a hand.  'Listen,' he said.

Off in the distance, they could hear the roar of motorcycles.  The bikes were coming closer.  They rounded the corner, and swept past in tight formation.  The riders wore leather vests.  Their insignia -- a death's head, with golden wings -- was disturbingly familiar.  In case anyone was in any doubt, the club name was written in large red letters on a white background.

'Well, for a start,' said Mayor Blake.

'Hells Angels Forever,' said Hutch.

'Nice bikes,' said Starsky.

*****************************

'Okay, this scenario is shaping up into Support Your Local Sheriff.'   They were in one of the back rooms of what Mayor Blake grandly referred to as Police Headquarters.  There was a front office, an office for the Chief of Police, a large central room with cubicles for the staff, and a couple of holding cells for the bad guys in the rear of the building.  That was about it.

'Support Your Local Police Chief,' Starsky corrected.

Hutch studied Starsky's face.  'You approve of this?' he asked.

'Approve?  You want my approval?'

'I want your opinion.  I need to know.  Starsk, I can't take this job if you're not happy here.  If you're unhappy, if we start to fight....'

'We fight all the time -- or we used to.  We'll probably fight here, if we're lucky.  So what?'

'If you... if you get tired of this place....'

'And decide to move back to LA?  Without any warning?  Without giving you a chance to find a new job, first?  Who d'ya think I am?  Some cheap floozy, who's gonna cut and run when the going gets tough?  Whatever else is between us, we're still best friends, aren't we?'

'Yes, of course.  Of course you wouldn't do that to me.'  Hutch pulled Starsky close, for a quick hug.

'This is a big step for us both, Hutch.  But it's not, what do you call it? Irrevocable? It can be revoked, if it doesn't work out.  You resign, we move back to LA, or on to San Francisco, or New York, or anywhere we like.  You're a good cop, you can get another job.  I'm gonna write scripts.  Jordan read one of my attempts.  She says it needs work, but all scripts do in their first stages.  We're working on it, and it might get filmed.'

'Ah.  You didn't tell me that.'

'I was saving that bit of news, for a moment like this.  You want the job, you take the job.  We'll work it out as we go along.'

'Okay.  Thanks, Starsk.'

'Don't mention it.'

'I like it here,' said Hutch.

'So do I,' Starsky told him.  'And I'm not just saying that.  If I really hated it, I'd tell you.'

'Think we can handle Hells Angels?'

'Babe, we can handle Hell's Army.'


***************************

'I'll take the job,' said Hutch.

'Great!  Great!' said the mayor.

'I can start next month.  Sorry it can't be sooner, but we have a lot of arrangements to make.'

'Including a place to live,' Starsky pointed out.

'Yes...' said Hutch, slowly.  'You said the sheriff used to live in the old mission.  What's that like?'

'Not in too bad shape, considering,' said the mayor.  'It's owned by one of the original families around here.  The Diegos.  Senora Diego manages the property.  You thinking of renting it?'

'I might,' said Hutch.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Starsky's wince, and decided to go on teasing him.  'If Senora Diego would agree to rent it to us.'

'She might even sell it,' said the mayor.  'She's getting on in years, and isn't too happy about the changes around here.  Last time we talked, she told me she was thinking of moving back to San Diego.'


*****************

Senora Diego may have been getting on in years, but she was certainly spry enough.  She also seemed to have kept her appreciation for handsome men intact, judging by the looks she was giving Hutch, as they rattled away in Spanish.  Her English was perfect, but Hutch just had to show off, thought Starsky. He'd been outrageous about it, bowing over her hand as he greeted her, making some remark that the flowers in her garden should be ashamed to show their faces around her.  At least that's what Starsky thought he'd said.  He'd have to check with Hutch later, to make sure the compliments hadn't gone any further into absurdity.

'Mr. Starsky!'

'Huh?  Oh, sorry Senora Diego.  Were you speaking to me?'

'I was indeed, young man. I was offering to sell the Mission to your friend.'

'Ah.  Well, we'd have to see the place first, Senora.'

'Of course, of course.  I'll have my gardener take you around the property....'

Property?  Property?  There was a property?  Starsky hoped she wasn't referring to the entire bluff on which the Mission stood.  That would set them back a bit.  

'.... my lawyer, if you like...'

Senora Diego had her own lawyer?  Starsky wondered if Huggy had a cousin or two in the law business.  He and Hutch knew their share of lawyers, but not the sort they'd want handling their financial affairs.

'... my banker...'

She had her own banker.  Starsky was sure Huggy wasn't related to any bankers.  Maybe Hutch's family.... Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hutch glancing at him out of the corner of his own eye.  On Hutch's face, was an expression he hadn't seen in a long time.  Since the day he got shot, as a matter of fact.  It was the expression that said Hutch wanted to see how far he could go.  How far he could push Starsky, before Starsky pushed back.

Starsky suffered what he could only describe as a sudden revelation.  When he and Hutch became lovers, it had driven them apart almost as much as it had brought them closer together.  They'd been friends for so long, and the patterns of their intimacy had been set long ago.  Now, they were a little out of step.  Their friendship had changed, their intimacy had changed.  No wonder Hutch didn't know what to trust about it all.

'Starsk?  You okay?'

'Yeah, Hutch.  I'm fine.'

'Ready to go, then?'

'Sure,' said Starsky.  'Let's go check out this dump.'

'Dump, Mr. Starsky?  I can assure you that the Mission is no dump.  It's in very good shape, and quite an impressive example of its genre.'

'If you say so, Senora.  But I'm not easily impressed.'

'I can see that, Mr. Starsky.... Isidoro?'

'Senora?'  The servant came forward, and bowed.

What century is this, Starsky wondered.

'Call Salbatore.  I want the car -- the newer one, whatever it is.'

'The Ferrari, Senora?' asked the servant, helpfully.

'Si, si.  The Ferrari.  We're going for a drive, up to the Mission.'

'Certainly, Senora.'

The servant bowed again, and hurried off.

'Sorry, Senora,' said Starsky.  'That doesn't impress me, either.'

Senora Diego clicked her tongue, and stalked away to get her coat.

'Starsky!'  Hutch looked severe.  He pulled Starsky to one side.  'That was rude,' he said.

'What was rude?'

'Calling the mission a dump.'

'Oh.'  Starsky hung his head, and looked up at Hutch under his eyelashes.  He studied the effect this had on his lover for a moment.  'Guess I better go and apologize to the Senora.   But if you really want to buy this Mission place, maybe I should go on being unimpressed?  Or she'll jack up the price.'

'Well, okay.  But try not to be so rude.'

'I'll try,' said Starsky.  'But it's gonna be difficult.'

**************************

'You're doin' what?  You're movin' where?'

'Hutch and me are moving to Port Justine.'

'Oh!  Port Justine.'  Huggy sniffed.  'Never heard of it,'  he said.

'You have now.  Hutch is the new Chief of Police.'

'Port Justine has a Police Department?'

'They do now.  It's a nice little town, Huggy.'

'I'm sure it is.  You'll go crazy in a month, Starsky.  Wait!  What am I saying?  You must already be crazy, to be even considerin' this.  Movin' to some little village out in the wilds?  Out of all contact with civilization?  Who will you talk to, when Hutch is at work?  What will you do all day? What if you get sick?'

'They have a doctor in town, Huggy.  Phone lines, too.  Electricity.  TV.  See -- I can sit around all day, watchin' soap operas and eatin' chocolates.  Get fat.'

'Amazing.  Wonders never cease.  Maybe it'll take two months, before you're certifiably insane.'

'You don't have much faith in me, do you?'

'I know you, Starsky.  Small town boy you ain't.  Why are you doin' this?  For Hutch?'

'I love him.  I'd die for him.'

'Dying is one thing.  Moving to Port Justine?  That's cruel and unusual punishment.  How can he ask that of you?'

'Huggy, Huggy.  Hutch isn't asking it of me.  I am.  Gimme another beer, will you?  Thanks.  Listen, don't say things like that to Hutch, okay?  He's feeling guilty enough.  And it's not necessary.  I'm a big boy.  I can take care of myself.  And no one pushes me around.'

'I know, but....'

'If I didn't want to move to Port Justine with Hutch, I wouldn't be doing it.'

'Do you?  Do you really want to move to Port Justine?'

'I want to move there with Hutch.  Hutch has been having a hard time lately.  He thinks he might find happiness there.'

'Is that what you think, Starsky?'

'I think he'll find happiness here, Huggy.'  Starsky patted his own chest, over his heart.  'But it doesn't matter where you live, it matters who you live with.  So I can put up with Port Justine.  I have the Torino.  I can commute.'

'Well, drop by once in a while.  Give me regular updates.'

'Yeah.  And you come visit us.'

'In Port Justine?'  Huggy looked alarmed at the suggestion.

'It's only just down the coast, Huggy.  You ever been out of LA?'

'Yeah, I have. Didn't care for it much.'

'There's a whole world out there,' said Starsky, waving his hands around illustratively.   'Los Angeles ain't the centre of the universe.'

'If you say so.'  Huggy Bear regarded Starsky in solemn silence, and shook his head.  'You'll always find a refuge here, man.  Take care of yourself, hear?'

'Thanks, Huggy.  I appreciate your concern, even if I don't need it.  Thanks for the beer.  See you later.'

'See you later, Starsky.'  Huggy watched him walk out the door of  The Pits, as if he were going off to war, never to return.

******************************

'How'd Dobey take the news, Babe?'

'Not so good,' said Hutch.  'He ranted and raved for an hour, but I think he's accepted that it's a fait accompli.  A done deal.'

'He's jealous,' said Starsky.  'You're a Police Chief now, and he's only a Captain.'

Hutch laughed.  Starsky was prouder of Hutch's new rank than Hutch was himself.  'I haven't assumed my duties yet,' he reminded Starsky.  'I'm the Police Chief Elect, until next month.'

'Okay,' said Starsky, not sounding convinced.  'So, you handed in your resignation.  When's your last day?'

'Two weeks today.  I have to clear up cases, do paper work.  Stuff like that.  Then, I'm all yours for a couple of weeks, until I start the new job.'

'Yeah.  Well, you're all mine forever anyway.  But, what do you want to do with all that free time?  Besides finish packing, planning our move, and planning how you're gonna clean up Port Justine?  I'm gonna insist on something right up front, Hutch.  You are taking a few days to relax and have fun.  Go swimming, go surfing, lie around on the beach.  Read.  Do nothing at all.'

'Make love?' asked Hutch, teasingly.

'Of course!' said Starsky, sounding shocked that Hutch should question the possibility.  'Every night.'

'You'll wear me out in a week.  But, what about telling our families?  Is that still on the agenda?'

'I got it all planned out.  Now I have definite dates, I can buy the plane tickets, like I promised.  We'll go to New York first, talk to my Mom, and Nick if he's around.  Then, we'll swing by your family on our way back to California.  How's that?  Meet with your approval?  Or would you rather do it the other way around?'

'Whatever you like, Starsky.  You want to tell your Mom first, that's what we'll do.  What about Dobey?  Still think we should tell him?'

'After your last day.  We'll invite him for dinner, or out to lunch or something.  You don't need more tension at work right now.'

'Yes, Mum.'  Starsky was in full mother hen mode, but he was enjoying it, so Hutch let him have his fun.  He deserved it.

'How exactly do you want to handle this?' he asked.  'Should we just come right out and tell them?'

'Yeah.  I think we should just come right out and tell them.  Like we were any other couple.  We got nothing to be ashamed of.'

'I know,' said Hutch.  'But that's not how the world sees it.'

'I know how the world sees it,' said Starsky.  He sounded grim.

'You still haven't told me about Viet Nam.  About Spike's friend, and what happened.'

'I don't know if I want to.  Spike shouldn't have told you about my part in that at all.'

'Why not?  Do you think there's anything I could learn about you that would change the way I see you?'

'No,' said Starsky.  'There isn't.  That's not why I never told you.  I wanted to forget that time.  All that hatred and violence.  The ugliness.  I didn't see myself as gay, or even bisexual.  It was just because women weren't available that much, out on patrol.  What happened with Spike and Roy scared me.  I thought, I can't live like this.  I don't need to.  I like women just fine.  All I have to do, is forget about my feelings for men.  Put it out of my mind.  I guess I was a coward.'

'You?  Never.'

'I was.  I never admitted how much I loved you, until it was almost too late.'

'Lots of people are like that, Starsky.'

'Yeah,' said Starsky.  'Cowards.'  He leaned forward and kissed Hutch on the mouth.  Long and deep.  The taste of Hutch was always shocking.  His mouth was full and soft.  His lips resisted Starsky's mouth for a long moment, then surrendered.  It was thrilling that such a strong man should surrender so completely.  No one had ever surrendered to Starsky so completely.

He sat back and studied Hutch for a moment, in silence.  'You are the best thing in my life,' he said, at last.  'The best, the most beautiful, the most important.  I didn't want people to smear us with their ugly hatred.  To diminish our friendship into something cheap and vile.'

'They can only do that if we let them,' said Hutch.  'If they turn their hatred on us, they only diminish themselves.  We're strong enough to survive.'

'Yes,' said Starsky.  He kissed Hutch again.  'I think we're stronger now, than we were before.  Don't you?  We're different, but stronger.  Not weaker.'

Hutch made a soft, assenting sound, and put his hand behind Starsky's head to draw him down for another kiss.  'Do you think we're different?' he asked.

'Yes,' said Starsky, after yet another long kiss.  'Different.  We've changed, but in a good way.'

'How?' asked Hutch.  'How have we changed?'

Starsky considered this question, as he kissed Hutch again.  He considered it as he began to unbutton Hutch's shirt.  He considered it as he gazed at Hutch's chest.  Hutch wasn't a woman.  He had a strong, hard chest, with a soft scattering of blond hair.  Starsky remembered the last woman he'd made love with.  Her body had been soft and round. Her breasts had filled his hands.  By taking Hutch as a lover, had he deprived himself of something important?

'There's nothing between us now,' he said.  'I mean, nothing separating us.  No lies.'

'No pretence,' said Hutch.

'We know each other as we really are.  We know that no one, no man, no woman, no one alive can come between us.  I know myself better than I did before.  And there's something else.'

'Yes?' asked Hutch.

'You won't laugh?'

'Of course not.'

'Promise?'

'What, Starsky?  What?'

'Okay.  I have your seed inside me,' Starsky whispered.  'I feel sometimes, like I have a part of you growing inside me.  Part of your soul.'

'Why would I laugh about that?' asked Hutch.

Starsky looked deep into his lover's eyes.  His lover's soul.  'Yeah,' he said.  'Why would you laugh?'

'Let me give you more of me,' Hutch begged him.  'Take all you want.'

'All of you,' said Starsky, as if he were dying of thirst.  He unzipped Hutch's pants, and his lover's cock rose up, a long column of dark red flesh.  It filled his hands, warm and vital.  

No. By taking Hutch as a lover, he had lost nothing.

He bent and kissed that most intimate part of Hutch's body.  He felt as if he were committing a sacred act of worship.

'Don't you want me naked?' Hutch asked.

'Not yet.  In a little while.  I want to drink you down, first.  Then unwrap you.'

'Ah.'  Hutch lay back, smiling, surrendering.  'You always have to do things your own way.  Backwards, sometimes.'

'Shh,' said Starsky.  He swallowed Hutch's cock, in its entirety, and then Hutch could say nothing coherent for a long time.

**********************

'Here you go, Cap.  The last cases, all written up.  My successor has a clean slate.  Who is he, anyway?  Do you know?'

'She, Hutch.  She.  Detective Susan Lim. Now promoted to Lieutenant Susan Lim. She's Chinese-American.  There's been a lot of criticism that the LAPD doesn't promote women and minorities as often as it should.  So, they decided to remedy the situation, this time around.'

'Ah, I see.  And what situation did they think they were remedying last time around?'

'I beg your pardon?  What's that mean?'

'Nothing, Captain.  Nothing at all.  You still having lunch with Starsky and me tomorrow?'

'Of course, Hutch.  Edith and I want you to come to dinner before you leave, too.'

'Well, we'd like that.  But we do have a tight schedule, the next few weeks.  We're flying to New York to talk to Starsky's Mum, then to Minnesota to see my parents.  Maybe even Indiana to see my sister.  After that, we have the move to Port Justine.'

'Why all the family visits?' asked Captain Dobey.

Hutch said nothing, rather pointedly.  

'Sorry, son,' Dobey amended, after a moment of this silence.  'Of course it's none of my business.'

'No problem, Captain.  Just something important Starsky and I need to discuss with our families that's all.'

'Well, families are important.'  The Captain looked a bit bewildered, nevertheless.

'Yes,' said Hutch.  'That's what Starsky and I think.  It remains to be seen if they feel as strongly about it as we do.'

'Hutchinson, you know I get the feeling you're talking in riddles, here.'

'Sorry, Captain.  I've got a lot on my mind.  My work is done, so I better head out.  See you tomorrow?'

'Sure, Hutch.  You know, I will miss you.  You and Starsky gave me more headaches than all my other men and women combined.  But it was worth it all.  You were a great team.'

'Oh, we still are,' said Hutch, with a smile.  'That will never change.'

It was true, thought Hutch as he drove home.  What Starsky said was true, as well. They had changed -- they were stronger.  Whatever happened, they could handle it.  And what Spike said was true, damn his eyes.  Starsky was alive.  They were still a team.  They were starting a new life, in a new place.

He felt a shiver of excitement fill him for the first time in many years.  His new job had its dangers.  The situation with Starsky still held its own dangers.  But the possibilities were endless.  He must think about the possibilities.  Plan how to make them come true.  He couldn't ignore the dangers, but he could plan how to work around them.

Hutch pulled over to the side of the road a few blocks from home, and settled in for a long think.

He had never been good at relationships.  His relationship with Starsky was the best and happiest in his whole life, and that had been the case even before they started sleeping together.  Starsky enjoyed city life.  He would never give it up for anyone but Hutch.  The fact that he'd agreed to move to Port Justine proved his love as nothing else could have done.  I must return that love in kind, Hutch thought. I must.  I can't let Starsky's love be stronger than my own.  How can I prove mine is as strong?  Give him something he's always wanted, even if it causes me pain?  But he'd already told Starsky he could have a girl friend, and Hutch wouldn't interfere or complain.  What more could he do?  Pick up a couple of girls on the way home, and set up an foursome?

No.  Somehow, he didn't think that was what Starsky had always wanted.

Hutch started the Mercedes again, and turned the radio on, without thinking.  It was tuned to a country music station, for some reason, and Johnny Cash was singing.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line....

Okay.  Now why was everyone lecturing him, these days?  Even Johnny Cash!   But he could do that.  He could keep a close watch on his heart, and keep his eyes wide open, and eventually, the opportunity would come, and he'd know, and he'd give Starsky what he'd always wanted, and prove his love was as strong as Starsky's.

Or even stronger.

*************************

'It's been a long time,' said Starsky, staring out the plane window.

Hutch frowned, and glanced at his watch.   'Not that long,' he said.  'Let's see.  It's five AM.  No, wait.  I forgot to turn my watch ahead.  It's eight AM, in this time zone.  But we left LA five hours ago.  That was midnight, LA time.  Those head winds really slowed us down.  We left for the airport about ten PM.  It was about an hour before that...'

'Hutch?  Hutch?  What the hell are you talkin' about?'

'... so it's been eight hours, by my calculations,' Hutch finished, triumphantly.

'Hutch?  What's been eight hours?'

'Since we made love.  Isn't that what you meant?  About it being a long time?'

'No, Dummy. That's not what I meant.  I don't think about sex all the time, you know.'

'Could'a fooled me.'

'I was talking about the last time I saw New York.  How long ago was that, you remember?'

'Three years, four months.'

'Ah.  You're right...  Looks like we're circling the city again.  Maybe the pilot isn't sure where we are.  Maybe I should go tell him I recognize the place. It's New York, for sure.'

'That's reassuring, but I think the pilot knows that already.'

'If you say so.  And I don't think about sex all the time.'

'I saw the way you looked at that stewardess.'

'Yeah, well, she was looking back.  But it means nothing.'

'It means she's heard all about you from what's'ername.'

'What's'ername?'

'Cindy or Vicky or whoever she was.  You know?  That stewardess we both....'

'Hutch?  Where is this conversation going?'

'Um....'

'Derail it.  Now.'

'Starsky....'

'Pull off its wings.  Shoot it and put it out of its misery.'

'Okay.  I hear you.'

'Good,' said Starsky.

'Sheesh,'  said Hutch.

'It's been a long time since I saw New York, Hutch,' Starsky said, brightly.  'It'll be good to see Mom again.'

'I hope so,' said Hutch.

'Yes.  It will.  Whatever happens, Hutch.'

'I know. We'll deal.'

'We will.  And no recriminations.  Is that the right word?'

'It is.'

Hutch grabbed Starsky's hand, and squeezed.  No recriminations.  Not between them.  On the other hand, if Starsky's mother or brother hurt him, he'd recriminate them -- up one side and down the other.

The plane began its descent, down onto the tarmac of LaGuardia Airport.  Hutch released the breath he'd been holding.  They were in New York.  In a few hours, they'd be talking to Starsky's mother.  There was no turning back.

Starsky squeezed his hand in return, and murmured, 'Dobey will come around.'

**********************

Manhattan was claustrophobic.  Far more so than LA.  The claustrophobia always seemed a bit ominous to Hutch, as if it portended a great disaster.  Starsky was in his element, of course.  He'd flagged down a taxi, and snapped out the address of their hotel in his best New Yorker accent.

'And don't take the scenic route!' he'd added.  "I'm on to that.'

The hotel had been a bone of contention between them.  Starsky insisted they were staying at the Howard Johnson Plaza, and he was paying for it.

'New York is my home town, and I'm your host.  When we get to Duluth, it's your turn.'

Yeah, right, thought Hutch.  What was Starsky up to, anyway? They were partners in life, now.  It was their money, all the time.  Not Starsky's money in New York, and his in Duluth.

'You look like you have a headache, Babe.'

'I think it was the air pressure from the cabin.  And I didn't sleep much last night.  We're not going to see your Mom right away, are we?  I think I need a nap first, soon as we get to the hotel.'

'Yeah, Hutch.  Have a nap first.'

******************************

'Two king-size beds.  What do we need with two king-size beds?'

'So I can have a nap?'

'I know.  Let's push them together and have an Emperor-size bed.  Then, you can take a nap.  How's that?'

Starsky didn't wait for his answer.  He was already pushing the beds together, rearranging the covers.  The huge new bed looked inviting, but far too large for one person.

'That looks too big for one person,' said Starsky.  'Want company?'


***********************

When Hutch woke up, his headache was gone.  He glanced at his watch, and discovered he'd slept for several hours.  He'd actually had a nap, he realized.  Starsky had cuddled up against him, and he'd fallen asleep, almost instantly.  Now, the bed was empty.

Hutch sat up, and looked around.  On the table beside the bed, were a glass of water and two aspirin.  A scrawled note on the hotel stationery read:  Gone to pick up rental car.  Ordered a late breakfast.  Better have shower. You smell sweaty.  I don't mind, but Mom might.  S

S thought of everything.  At the foot of the bed, were clean clothes.  The clothes he'd worn on the plane had disappeared.

Hutch was in the shower.  The curtain slid back, and S climbed in to join him.

'Want a quick blowjob?'  asked S, with a leer.

'No.  What would give you that idea?' asked Hutch.

S looked him up and down.  'This part of you seems interested,' he said.  He fell to his knees and took Hutch's cock in his mouth.

'Do you really want to do this, right before going to visit your mother?' Hutch asked.

Starsky looked up at him, from his position on the shower floor.  His eyes were dancing with mischief.  He hummed something in answer.

Hutch reached out and tangled his fingers in Starsky's curls.  'You're a naughty boy,' he tried to say, but something was wrong with his tongue, and the sounds he made were senseless.  Starsky reached up, and slid a finger between Hutch's buttocks, and all rational thought became impossible.

********************

'How's your headache now?' Starsky asked, as they drove to his mother's apartment.

'Gone,' said Hutch.  'It was gone when I woke up, and your ministrations erased the last traces of it.'

'My ministrations?  Yeah, I ministered to you.  On my knees, like in a temple or something.  I felt... righteous.'

'Why?'  Hutch asked, in sudden irrepressible curiosity.

'Hutch.  You question everything.  You're like a two year old.  Why is the sky blue, Daddy?  Why do I have to put away my toys, Daddy?'

'Are we there yet, Daddy?'

'If you don't behave, I'll give you a good spanking when we get home.'

Hutch imagined Starsky spanking him.  He looked hurriedly out the car window, hoping Starsky hadn't noticed his blush, but there wasn't much the guy ever missed.  Not about Hutch, at least.

'I only meant that in fun,' said Starsky, primly.

Hutch grunted.

'I know you're really macho, and all that.  I'd never suggest....'

'Shut the fuck up, Starsky.'

Starsky laughed.  'I'd never suggest you were less than a man, just because I fuck you.  Is that what you think about me?'

'No!' Hutch exclaimed, in horror.

'It's always one thing or another, Hutch.  Dammit, why do you doubt me so much?'

Hutch tried to answer, as he had many times before.  'I can't help it,' he said, at last.  'I don't doubt you, it's just... There's something strong in you, stronger than anything in me, stronger than most people I've known.  I know you could walk away from me, live without me, have a happy life without me.  I'm not so sure about myself.  I need to know what you see in me, what you think I give to you, so I can go on giving it.'

'What do I see in you?'  Starsky asked, slowly.  'I see someone who has a lot to give, and the need to give it.  And you've never really had the chance, have you?  You can give me everything you got, and I won't play nasty games with it.  I swear, Hutch.   Look.  Here we are.  It's now or never.  You still wanna come out to our families?'

'Of course!'

'Okay.  Just checking.'

It was one thing, thought Hutch as they rode up in the elevator, to say you wanted to come out, wanted to end all the lies.  It was another to actually tell your mother you were gay, or bisexual, and in a relationship with another man.  What could you say?  Could you say something like...

'Mom?  Hutch and I have something to tell you.  You see, we discovered we love each other, and that's why we're living together.'

'David?' said Mrs. Starsky.  'What do you mean, love each other?'

'Mom, Hutch and me are more than friends now.  More like... like married people.  I guess that makes us gay.  Sort of.'

Rachel Starsky sat staring at her son, her face blank.  'Gay?' she asked, in horrified tones, as if Starsky had told her they were cannibals.  No.  Hutch doubted even that revelation would cause her to turn such a shade of pale green.  'Gay?' she asked again, her voice shaking.  'Are you sure?  You can't be sure, David. You're young and confused.  You've had girl friends.  You almost got married once or twice, remember?'

'They died, or moved away.  Hutch is still here, so I decided he'd do instead... Ma.  I'm in my thirties.  I'm not confused.  I'm gay.  It's not the same thing.'

'Of course it is!' said Rachel, angrily.  'You can't be gay.  You're my son.  I won't allow it.'

'I'm not asking your permission.  I'm old enough to live my own life.'

'Then live it...  live your own life…  not like one of those...  like on TV... wearing dresses?  You're a man.  Don't you want a wife and a family?  What about children?'

'Children?' said Starsky.  'Yeah, I want children.  I think I'm still going to want children.  Now I'm not a cop any longer, I might even have them.'

'How can you if you're living that lifestyle?  With another man?  How can he give you children?'

Starsky looked as if he were considering the matter seriously.  'Yeah,' he said at last.  'It's a problem, but we'll work it out.  Maybe we'll meet a lesbian who wants kids.'

'A lesbian?' asked Rachel, sounding even more horrified, if such a thing were possible.

'A Jewish lesbian, so we won't have to argue about what religion we'll raise the kid in.  See, Ma.  Nothing to worry about.'

'A Jewish lesbian,' said Rachel, faintly.  'I need a drink.'

*******************

'That went well,' said Starsky, back in their hotel room.

'You think?' asked Hutch.

'Sure.  She's still talking to us.'

'And talking and talking and talking.'

'Yeah.  Now I've got a headache,' said Starsky.

'Want a cuddle?' asked Hutch.  'Or a blowjob?'

'Hmmm,' said Starsky.  'How about one of each?'

*****************************

'You know,' said Hutch.  'Your mother was right about one thing.  I can't give you children.'

'Yeah, well.  I can't give you children, either.  No one's perfect.'

'I don't particularly want children, Starsky.  But I know you do.  Were you serious, by the way?'

'I'm always serious,' said Starsky.

'You're never serious.  But were you serious about the babies?  The Jewish lesbian?  Do we even know such a creature?'

'Nah, but I'm sure there's at least one around, somewhere.  Maybe we could advertise?'

'How would that work?' asked Hutch.  'I mean, how would you....'

'God, Hutch.  I don't know. I haven't sat down and planned it all out.  If she has no objections to having sex with a man, I guess we could do it the usual way.  Or we could use artificial whatever-it's-called.'

'Insemination.'

'Gesundheit.  How do you do that, exactly? Is there some special procedure, with the, you know, the semen?'

'I think you just produce the semen, and give it to the woman, and she... puts it inside her, and if it's the right time, she conceives the baby.'

'Oh,' said Starsky.  And then, 'Puts it inside her?'

'The semen, Starsky.   The semen.'

'You like saying that word, don't you?'

********************

'Could you live here?' asked Hutch, as they walked around downtown Manhattan.  'Could anyone?'

'Thousands of people do,' Starsky pointed out.

'Do they, Starsk?  Are they really living?'

'Come on, Hutch. They seem alive enough to me.'

'Alive, yes.  They're alive.  But are they really living?  That's what I'm asking. I'm serious, Starsky.  New York is an exciting place to visit, but I'm starting to feel like a rat investigating a new maze it's just been stuck in.  Wondering what's expected of me, and what's at the end of the maze.  A piece of cheese?  Or a lethal injection so they can remove my brain and see what effect running the maze had on it?'

Starsky spluttered with laughter.  'You're cheerful,' he said.  'Hutch?  What's really botherin' you?'

'Hmm,' said Hutch.  He looked around.  'There's no palm trees,' he announced.

'Palm trees?  Palm trees?  In New York?  You nuts, or something?'

'You asked what was botherin' me, and that's it.'

'No, it's not.  You're worried about tonight.'

'Not worried,' said Hutch.  'I'm... concerned.  I don't think you should be there alone.  Why'd you agree?'

'Told you why.  Mom wants to get this off her chest.  She thinks Nick and Uncle Abe can talk me out of it.  They can't.  You know that, Hutch.  But she won't rest until she tries.  She'll go on and on, nagging at me.  Once she faces the facts, she'll start getting over it.'

'You think?'

'I think. I know.  And I understand how she feels.  I can see it from her point of view.  You and I can't have children. Together, I mean.  Most men in this world don't have sex with other men.  There will always be people who hate us because we sleep together. There's lots of reasons for us to split up, and only one reason to stay together.  But it's the only reason to do anything worth doing -- because of wanting to do it.  Needing to do it.  Because you can't do anything else.'

'You mean, because of love, Starsky.'

'Yeah, yeah. Don't go all mushy on me.  Yuck.'

'Okay.  I won't get mushy.  But call me when you get to your Mom's place, and I'll time your visit.  How long you figure this'll take?'

'One hour.  Tops.  That's all the time I'm giving them.'

'One hour.  Call me after one hour to announce you're leaving.  If I don't hear from you, or you don't get back to our hotel in a reasonable time, I'm going in after you.  And I won't be mushy.  I'll be homicidal.  I'll come in with guns blazing.'

'Gotcha.  But what do you think they can do to me?'

'I've heard stories. You've got your gun, right?'

'Of course.'

'Take it with you, Starsk.'

***********************

'Hi, Ma.  What's cooking?'

'I made your favourite, David.  The Paul Muni special.'

'Oh, yeah.  Hi, Nick.  Uncle Abe.  How you doing?'

Nick said nothing.

'Sit down, David,' said Uncle Abe.

'In a minute,' said Starsky.  'Maybe.  If I feel like it.  Can I use your phone, Ma?'

'Of course, dear.'

'Ah,' said Starsky as he dialled the hotel.  'Now I'm your 'dear', again.  Hang on...  Hutch!  I'm at Mom's place.  Yeah, they're here too, looking grim.  They got one hour to be grim around me, then I'm leavin' them to it.  See you later.  Me too.  Bye.'  He grinned at the others.  'That was Hutch,' he said.  He took off his leather jacket, and turned to look out the window, showing them his back, with its leather holster.

'You still carry a gun?' asked Uncle Abe.

'I have a license,' said Starsky.  'And New York can be dangerous.'

'So you haven't turned into a woman out of bed, as well as in?' said Nick.

'I haven't turned into a woman at all,' said Starsky.  'Who told you that?'

'Mom says you and Hutch... She says....'

'I assume she told you we were living together.'

'Like married people, you said.'

'That's what I told her,' said Starsky.  'Those were my very words.'

'So you admit it?' asked Nick.

'Admit it?  Like I was some kinda perp?' Starsky snorted.  'No.  I don't admit it.  I told her... we told her about us, so she'd know.  Know what Hutch is to me, now.  More than he was before, even.  He was my best friend.  He still is. But now, he's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.  He is my life. That's what I told her.'

'And that's it?  Nothing else?' asked Nick.  'Mom, why don't you go in the kitchen?  Let Uncle Abe and me speak to David alone.'

'Man to man?' asked Starsky, with a laugh.

'That's what you need, son,' said Uncle Abe.  'A man to explain things to you.  Go on, Rachel.  Nick and I are going to give David the fatherly talk he needs.'

Rachel Starsky sighed, but she went to the kitchen, and closed the door.

Starsky checked his watch.  'You got 45 minutes,' he said.  'Give it your best shot.'

'What happened to you?' asked Nick.  'You're supposed to be my big brother, not my little sister.'

'Yeah.  You didn't appreciate me as your big brother.  Like having a little sister better?'

'It's not funny.'

'Sorry.  I thought it was.'

'You still haven't explained what happened.  You might not be a good brother, but at least you were a man.  What are you now?'

'You asking me, Nick?  Or tellin' me?  You keep saying you want to talk, so talk.  But don't ask me questions, if you won't listen to my answers.'

'But you aren't giving us answers, David,' said Uncle Abe.  'We want to know what happened to you, what changed you, and you keep brushing us off.'

'Nothing changed me,' said Starsky.

'Of course something changed you,' said Nick, rather loudly.

'Don't shout, Nicky,'  their mother interjected from the kitchen doorway.  'There's no need for that.'

'Sorry, Ma.  But he's not co-operating.'

'I am an unco-operative perp,' said Starsky.  'I have been trained by plenty of stellar examples.'

'David,' said Uncle Abe.  'Why won't you sit down and really talk with us?  What are you afraid of?  What do you think we're going to do to you?'

'Do to me?  Nothing.  Hutch told me stories about families who put their gay children into insane asylums, and made them take shock treatments.  Doesn't much happen anymore, he says.  Well, it's not gonna happen to me at all.'

'Shock treatment?' asked Rachel Starsky.  'Would that work?  Of course we wouldn't make you take it, but if the psychiatrist recommended it, you'd take it, wouldn't you?  If it cured you?'

'Psychiatrist?  What psychiatrist?' asked Starsky.

'I asked around,' said Uncle Abe.  'There are good psychiatrists who deal with these problems.  They say they can cure it, if they catch it soon enough.  You haven't been homosexual long, have you?'

'None of your business.'

'It is our business, David.  We want to help you. But how can we help you if you don't help yourself?'

Starsky laughed.  'Oh, I have helped myself,' he said.  'And I intend to go on helping myself.  I don't need your assistance to do that.'

'What are you talking about, Davey?' asked Nick.  He eyed their mother nervously, as she continued to stand in the kitchen doorway.  'Ma?  Please go back in the kitchen,' he said.  'I haven't finished what I want to say to David.'

Their mother sighed, and rolled her eyes.  'I suppose you want to talk about sex,' she said.  'And you think I know nothing about it.'

'Well....' said Nick.

Rachel Starsky snorted in a rather unladylike way.

'We do want to talk to you about sex, David,' said Uncle Abe.  'That's what this is all about, isn't it?  You having sex with that man?'

'Yeah, how can you do that, Davey?' asked Nick.  'Sucking some guy's dick.  Sorry, Ma.  But that's what those perverts do.  Letting him put his dick inside you, Davey?  The idea makes me sick.'

'Don't worry, Nick,' said Starsky.  'I'm sure the idea of having sex with you would make Hutch sick, too.  And he's not 'some guy'.  He's Hutch. Other than informing you of that, I'm not discussing my sex life with you -- and certainly not Hutch's sex life.  You got the wrong idea, if you think that.  We came here to tell you we were married, and spending the rest of our lives together, because we love each other.'

'And you expect us to be happy for you?' asked Uncle Abe.

'No,' said Starsky.  'I didn't expect that.  I've been a cop for years.  I know what people are like, what they're capable of.  That kind of generosity is pretty rare.  Why should you make an effort to be better than the common run of humanity, just because you're my family?'

'That's unfair, David,' said his mother.

'Is it?  Is it Ma?'

'Yes.  It is unfair.  We are your family.  We love you.  We're worried about you.'

'Being worried about me is one thing.  Talking about psychiatrists and shock treatments, and how my sex life makes you sick is something else.  Psychiatrists and shock treatments are out of the question, and I'm not discussing my sex life.  If you have anything else to say, say it now.  I'm leaving in a few minutes.'

'No!  No, don't leave, David.  Stay for supper.'

'I can't, Ma.  I promised Hutch I wouldn't stay longer than an hour.  I gave him my word.'

'And he's more important than we are?' asked Rachel, bitterly.

'Yeah.  He is.  That's what I've been tryin' to tell you.  That's what I came here to say.  Look, Ma.  Here's our new address.  It's in this little town called Port Justine.'

'You're leaving LA?' asked Nick.

'Hutch is the new Police Chief,' said Starsky, proudly.

'I wonder what they'd say, if they found out he was a faggot?' asked Nick.

'Nicky!' said Rachel Starsky.  'How dare you use that sort of language.  I've heard about enough.'

'Sorry, Ma. But it's true.  It's what he is.  What Davey is now.  He's not your white haired little boy anymore.  Not now that Ken Hutchinson turned him queer. Get used to it.  He's sucking Hutchinson's dick.'

'Hutch told them he was gay, when they called him about the job,' said Starsky.  'They don't care.  They just want a good police chief, and that's Hutch.  And I was never any sort of white haired boy, Nicky,' he added.  'If you hafta talk about sex, fine.  Hutch didn't turn me queer.  He wasn't the first man I had sex with.  So you can all forget about psychiatrists getting at me before it's too late.  It's already way too late.'

'David?' said Rachel Starsky, shakily.  'Don't say that.  Don't say it's too late.'

'Sorry, Ma.  It is.  Take this card.  It's got my new address on it.  Here.  This is a picture of Port Justine.  It's a pretty town, isn't it?  That's our new house.    Keep the pictures, Mom.  And when you have all those nightmare visions of me living some wicked, degraded life, take them out, and look at them.'

Rachel Starsky looked down at the pictures Starsky put in her hands.  She stared.  'That's a small town,' she said.  'A village.  You're moving to a village?'

'I suppose it is a village, compared to New York, and LA,' Starsky allowed.

'And this is your new house?'

'Yeah.  It's an old mission.  It hasn't been used as a mission for decades, now.  But it still has the bell tower, and the old bell in it.'

'Why would you want to live there?' asked his mother.  'Because of that man?  He asked you to do that?'

'No.  He didn't ask me. I offered.  Hutch needs to get out of LA.'

'So?  Let him leave.  You don't have to go with him.'

Starsky took his mother's hands in his own.  'Yeah, Ma.  I do have to go with him.  And I have to go back to him, now.  I need to borrow your phone one more time.'  He dropped her hands, and turned to pick up the phone.

She knocked the receiver from his hands.  'No,' she said.  'You're not calling him from this house.'

Starsky stared at her.  She was white and shaking.  He bent and picked up the receiver, and put it back in the cradle.  'Fine,' he said, gently.  'If you have to be so childish about it, I'll call him from the phone booth on the corner.  We're leaving on the plane in the morning.  I'll give you a call before we go.'   He kissed her cheek, lightly.  'Take care of yourself, Ma,' he said.

'You're just leaving?' asked Uncle Abe.  'Your mother is all upset.'

'She'll get over it,' said Starsky.  'She's a grown woman.  She's been living alone for years, managing to deal with the harsh realities of life.  She can deal with this harsh reality.  And so can you.'

Starsky could hear his mother calling to him, as he hurried down the hall, but he ignored her.  If she had really wanted to discuss his relationship with Hutch, and had tried to listen to him, that would be different, he thought.  But all those accusations were too much to take.  He was no child, to sit there humbly and be browbeaten.  

Fortunately, the phone booth was empty.  'Hey, Babe,' he said. 'I'm safe and sound.  Out of the apartment, and on my way home.  Back to the hotel, I mean. But that's home, cause you're there. You okay, Hutch?'

'Yeah.  Yeah, I'm okay.  You sound like you're in a phone booth.'

'I am.  No big deal.  Gotta go.  I see a taxi.  I'll be back in a few minutes.'

'Okay,' said Hutch.  'Go grab that taxi.'

Starsky hung up, and glanced up at his mother's apartment building.  He thought he could see her, looking out the window.  She can deal with it, he thought.  She'll come around.  Like Dobey.  Dobey will get over it.  He'll realize we're the same people we were before we started sleeping together, and he'll get over it.

And if he doesn't, we'll make new friends.  In Port Justine, of all places. God, Hutch.  What I do for you.

**************************

The phone rang.  Hutch opened one eye -- the eye that wasn't buried in Starsky's dark curls.

'You wanna get that?' he asked.

'Mmph,' said Starsky.

'It's on your side of the bed,' Hutch pointed out.

'Mmph.'

'Okay, okay.  Lazy bum.'

Starsky twisted around in Hutch's arms, and glared at him.  'That's not what you said about my bum last night,' he said.  He pulled the pillow out from under Hutch's head, and covered his own face with it.  He snored, elaborately.

The phone went on ringing.  Hutch reached across Starsky's body, and lifted the receiver.  'Hello?' he said.

There was a moment of silence.  

'Mr. Hutchinson, may I speak to my son?' the caller asked.

'Of course, Mrs. Starsky.  Just a moment.'  Hutch pulled the pillow from Starsky's face.  'It's your mother,' he said.

Starsky groaned, and took the phone.  'Where you going?' he asked, as Hutch started to slide out of bed.

'The bathroom,' said Hutch.

'Coward!' said Starsky.  'Ma?  Hi, Ma.  Yeah.  Yeah.  Yeah, I know.  I know, Ma.  Because I thought we talked long enough, Ma.  That's why.  What more did you have to say?  Anything new and interesting?  That's not interesting, and it certainly isn't news to me.... Yeah?  Well, that's news to me, and a pretty interesting point of view.   But I gotta tell you, Ma.  Only someone who doesn't know us very well would think I moved in with Hutch 'cause he was easier to get along with than a woman….  Any woman you care to name, Ma.  You wanna hear some stories?'

Hutch closed the bathroom door, and started the shower.  A few minutes later, Starsky joined him.

'Your Mom finished talking?' asked Hutch.

'Nah.  But I am,' said Starsky, as he fell to his knees.  'It's not polite to talk with your mouth full.'

'We have a plane to catch in a few hours.'

'We'll catch the plane,' said Starsky.  'I'm a fast worker.'

************************

'You think maybe you were a bit hard on your Mom?' asked Hutch.

Starsky stared out the plane window, as New York disappeared below them.  'Yeah. A bit.  Maybe.  I think.  I dunno.  It's difficult, Hutch.  How much should you let people put you down?  How far do you let them go, while you sit there, smiling? How many times should you let them insult the person you love?  No matter who they are, how much do you let them think they can run your life?  I've been thinking.  If she took up with another woman -- or even a man I didn't like -- I'd probably be upset, yeah. But not so upset I'd start talking about psychiatrists and shock treatments.'

'Shock treatments?' Hutch shuddered.  'You didn't tell me about that last night.'

'I had better things to do with my mouth,' said Starsky. He turned and looked at Hutch.  'I was upset when I found out John Blaine was running around on his wife, with another man.  It destroyed the whole picture I had of him.  It shook me up, you know?'

'I know,' said Hutch.

'I said things, things I knew deep down were wrong. But I'd never have suggested he was insane. Did you think... did I hurt you, when I said those things, when I said it wasn't right?  Did you feel like I was judging you?  I'd never had said them, if I'd known.'

Hutch thought for a moment.  'I was a little hurt, yeah,' he said at last.  'But I got over it.'

'Did you?,' asked Starsky.   'Or did you wait longer to tell me the truth, because of what I said?  I was hanging on to my version of reality, the one where I was totally straight, and loved you like a brother.'

Hutch smiled.  'There was nothing wrong with that version of reality,' he said.  'I was happy.'

'No you weren't,' said Starsky, firmly.  'You like this version way better.'

'Yeah.  Okay.  I like this version better.'

'Way better,' Starsky insisted.

'Way better.  I like showering in this version of reality way better.'

'Good,' said Starsky.  'They have showers in Duluth?'

'Last time I was there, yeah,' said Hutch.  'But last time I was there, you weren't one of the fixtures.'

'Fixtures?' asked Starsky.  'Am I one of the fixtures, now? I'm not sure I'd like to be a fixture in your shower.  I'd start to rust, sooner or later.  Probably sooner, at this rate. But how about being a fixture in your life?'

'That's what you are,' said Hutch.

'Good,' said Starsky, again.  He went back to staring out the window, but he was smiling now.

**************************

'When was the last time you were here in Minnesota?' asked Starsky, looking out their hotel room window, onto the streets of Duluth.

'Two years, eight months,' said Hutch.

'I've never been in Minnesota,' said Starsky.  'I never wanted to be in Minnesota.'

'I know,' said Hutch.  'And now I have to confess.  This whole coming-out-to-our-families deal was a plot to get you here.  How long have we known each other?'

'Too long,' said Starsky.

'And you never wanted to visit my home state?'

'No.  I have my own confession to make.  I don't love you after all.  Ouch!  Okay, okay.  I surrender.  I still like you a little bit.  Honest, Hutch. I do.  Just don't abandon me out in the wilderness... What'd'ya mean, what wilderness?  Look at these tourist brochures.  Over three thousand acres of parkland -- another name for wilderness -- right here in Duluth.  Only two and a half hours to drive to the Canadian border.  That's all Canada is -- wilderness.'

'You ever been there?'

'No.  And I think I'll stay here in civilization, thanks.'

Hutch laughed.  'Canada's quite civilized.  They even speak English.'

'Really?  I thought they spoke French.'

'Only in Quebec...  Never mind.  We don't have time to explore Canada this time.'

'Good.  Look at the size of the lake.'  Starsky waved another tourist brochure under Hutch's nose.

'Superior,' said Hutch.

'Yeah, Superior,' said Starsky.  'Enough water to cover all of North America three feet deep.  What if they let the lake out of its bed?  We'd have to spend the rest of our lives in hip waders.  And the waves can go over twenty feet high in a storm.'

'I know, Starsk.  I grew up here.'

'Amazing you survived.'

'If you can live on the shores of the Pacific Ocean, you'll survive two days in Duluth.  And if you behave, I'll push the beds together tonight.'

'Promise?' Starsky asked.  His eyes twinkled as he surveyed the two king-size beds.

'If you're good,' said Hutch.

'Even when I'm bad, I'm good,' said Starsky.

***************************

'You seem pretty relaxed,' Starsky observed, as they drove to the Hutchinson residence.

'I am that,' Hutch allowed.  'The worst is over.'

Starsky stroked Hutch's thigh.  'My family is the worst?' he asked.

'No, no.  I didn't mean it that way.  I guess I was just more worried about you getting hurt, especially when they insisted on talking to you alone.  But it wasn't so bad, was it?'

'No.  I think showing them my gun helped.'

'Starsky!  You didn't tell me about that.  Don't you think you over-reacted?'

'Hey!  You were the one told me to take my gun.'

'I know. I told you to take your gun, not use it.  I wasn't worried about your Mom.  She's upset, but she'll get over it.  Nick, on the other hand...'  Hutch watched the road ahead carefully for a few minutes.  'I've heard stories,' he said at last.

'So you told me,' said Starsky.  'What sort of stories?'

'Oh, you know.  The usual sort of thing.  If two men have sex with each other, they lose all human rights.  Or they used to. Or in many people's eyes, they cease to be human.  Things are better than they were, here and there.  But even in places where it's legal for us to have sex, that doesn't mean our families couldn't have us committed, or that we couldn't be fired from our jobs with impunity.  Or that we couldn't be killed like dogs in the street.'

'I know all that, Hutch.  We've talked about it before.'

'I know you know all that, Starsk.  It's just a good thing to keep in mind.'

'You're not worried about your family doing anything like that, are you?'

'No.  Not in a million years.  That would go against everything they believe in.  It's still going to be a bit of a shock to them.  And I'm still not sure what to say.'

'Tell them I'm your partner,' said Starsky.  'That we're sharing our lives and working together to make the world a better place.'

'Keep talking like that,' said Hutch.  'They'll adopt you.  Wanna be a Hutchinson?'

'Aren't I already?' asked Starsky.

The front door of the Hutchinson residence opened as they drove up.  A tall, blonde woman ran out, laughing.

'Ken!  Kenny!  What took you so long?'

'Judith?  You're here?'

'Yeah, I'm Judith. And I'm here.  Hi, David.  Where's your luggage?  Back at the hotel?  What hotel?  What's the matter with you guys?  Mom!  Dad!' she shouted.  'These idiots think they're staying at a hotel.'

'Judy....'

'Well, you are idiots.  Why spend money on hotel rooms, when there's lots of room here?'

'We had our reasons,' said Hutch.

'There's no reason for spending money unnecessarily, Kenny.  It's unreasonable.'

'Thus speaketh the accountant.'

'Don't make it sound like a dirty word,' said Judith.   'I'm good at what I do.'

'Cooking the books?'

'Saving people's money,' said Judith.

Brother and sister eyed each other, and laughed.  This was an old argument, and not a heated one.  Judith pulled Hutch inside the door, as if he might attempt to escape.  Starsky followed.  Mr. and Mrs.  Hutchinson were waiting.  Hutch's mother kissed her son.  His father gave him a hug.  Then, they kissed and hugged Starsky.

'We'll go help you bring your luggage here, after dinner,' Mr. Hutchinson announced.

'Now, Dad.  Don't start,' Hutch said.

'Start?  Start what?  It's silly to stay at a hotel, like Judith said.  It's cheaper here.  Your mother only charges a dollar an hour for room service.'

'Jim!' said Hutch's mother.  'Fifty cents an hour is plenty.  They're family.'

'Exactly.  So why are they in a hotel?  What will the neighbours think?'

'We're only here two days, Dad.'

'Yes.  You can put up with us for two days, can't you?  We hardly ever get to see you these days.  You never call.  You never write.'

'Dad.  Enough with the poor neglected parents act,' said Hutch.

'So don't neglect us.  We'll pick up your luggage after dinner, and you can have your old room.  Unless you want the guest room.  It's bigger.'

Hutch sighed as they all walked down the hall to the family room.  His sister came up behind and patted him on the back.  'Yeah, Bro,' she said.  'The guest room is big enough for both of you.  Unless you want two bedrooms.  Do you?'

Mrs. Hutchinson turned and looked at Starsky with a smile.  'You can have two bedrooms if you need them,' she said, echoing Judith.  'Do you?'

'Uh.  No.  I don't think so.  Do we, Hutch?'

Hutch looked as bewildered as Starsky felt, for a moment.  Then, he looked suspicious.  He turned to glare at his sister, his mother, and his father in turn.  'What is this?' he demanded.

'I'm sorry, Ken,' said his mother.  'Did we misunderstand the situation?'

'Nope,' Starsky jumped in.  'We do only need one bedroom.'

Everyone smiled again.

'That's what we thought, ' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'Come on, dear.  Tell us all about it.'  She led the way into the family room.  

Starsky and Hutch waited out in the hall for a moment, alone.

'It looks like they're way ahead of us,' said Starsky.

'I shoulda known,' Hutch replied, glumly.  'When I first called to tell them we were moving in together, they must have figured it out.  This is gonna be awful.'

'Why?  They don't seem upset, or angry.  They seem understanding.'

'That's just it, Starsky. They're so fucking understanding.  There's nothing worse than a family that understands you.'

'If you say so.  You're so weird, Hutch. If it's any comfort to you, sometimes I don't understand you.  How's that? Feel better?'

*******************************

They all sat down, and stared at each other.  Starsky thought the Hutchinsons were communicating without talking out loud.  He and Hutch had done that often enough that he knew how it worked. As with all forms of communication, a lot of it had to do with being on the same wavelength, and with having a shared language, and shared experiences.

Starsky knew Hutch loved his family, and they loved him.  But always there had been a coolness, a distance between them.  A cool distance, not hostility or anger. Perhaps Hutch had simply grown away from them -- a normal thing, perhaps.  And yet, Starsky felt there was more to it.  Something he had never been told about.  And he had never asked, because everyone was entitled to family secrets.  Even Hutch.

After a time of this speaking silence, Hutch got to his feet, and walked about the elegant room, studying the pictures on the wall.  'These are new,' he said, looking at his mother, and waving his hand at a group of framed photos.  'They're good, too.  You and Starsky should have a talk.  He's interested in photography.'

Starsky got up to join Hutch.  'You took these?' he asked Mrs. Hutchinson.  They were good.  Landscapes, mostly.

'Yes,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'They're just snapshots, but....'

'No, no.  They're not just snapshots.  They're photographs.  Hang on.  I took some great photographs of Hutch at the beach in Port Justine.  I left them in my jacket in the car.  Be right back.'

'Starsk?  Where are you going?' Hutch protested.  But Starsky ignored him.  Let them be alone for a few minutes, and maybe they'd start talking out loud.

There was something deep there, he thought, as he rifled through his jacket pockets for the photos.  Something deep, and perhaps painful.   Something that Hutch and his family had glossed over.  But now, the news that he and Hutch were lovers had ripped off that cool, glossy surface.  What was underneath?  Not anger or rejection, that was clear enough.  Tenderness, he thought.  Remorse of some kind.  Guilt?  Why guilt?  Will they tell me, he wondered, if I go back into that room?  Will they explain, or will the glossy surface be back, polished by loving hands?  Will the places and names be changed to protect the innocent?

Hutch was sitting by his mother on the sofa, when Starsky got back to the room.  He looked up, and smiled, waving Starsky over to sit beside them.  Starsky took the seat on Mrs. Hutchinson's other hand.  He opened the package of loose photographs and began to spread them out on the coffee table.

Hutch was walking along the beach, splashing in the surf, laughing, threatening to grab Starsky and throw him in the ocean.  He'd splashed water on the lens at one point, just as Starsky had snapped the picture.  The droplets of water had created an interesting variation on Starsky's constant subject -- Hutch.

'He's very photogenic,' he explained to Hutch's mother.

She smiled at him, with justifiable motherly pride.  'I know,' she said.  'He looks much healthier than he did a year ago.  You've been taking good care of him.'

'I'm trying. Hutch keeps telling me I shouldn't be doing it, but I know he likes it.  And he takes good care of me, too.'

'That's what he's been needing all his life, whatever he says,' Mrs. Hutchinson pointed out.

'Are you two going to sit and discuss my attributes all evening?' asked Hutch, with mock grumpiness.

'Why not?' asked Mrs. Hutchinson.  'I never....' She stopped, colouring a little.

'You never really had the chance before, because Vanessa wasn't that sort of daughter-in-law?  Starsky isn't a daughter-in-law at all, but he loves gossiping  about me.  You'll get along great.'

Starsky tried to look offended, but couldn't quite manage the feat.

'And I can't help wondering why you're not more surprised,' Hutch said.  'About us, I mean.'

'Surprised?  Why should we be surprised?' Mr. Hutchinson wondered.

'Yeah, Bro,' said Judith.  'First you tell us you and David are moving in together.  Then, you tell us you're coming to talk to us in person, about something important.  We may not be big, hot detectives, like you guys.  But Dad's a lawyer, Mom's a psychiatrist, and I'm an accountant.  I think between the three of us, we can put two and two together.'

'You think we're big, hot detectives?' asked Starsky.

'The biggest and the hottest,' said Judith.  'And we're proud of you, whatever you may think.'  She looked at Hutch, pointedly.

'I never thought...' Hutch began.  'I never... I know I said things I shouldn't have.  But....'

'Everyone does that,' said his father.  'I did, too.  And you know I'm sorry.  I told you that, as soon as I understood.'

Hutch got to his feet, and began to pace about the room.  'I do know you were sorry,' he said.  'And so was I.  But, in a way, I almost wished you weren't.  That we could have had a big fight, and you'd thrown me out of the family, and....  and I could have blamed you for what I felt.'

'You wanted a target for your anger,' said his mother.  'Someone close by, and easy to strike out at.'

'Damn,' said Hutch.  'You see what I mean, Starsk?  Imagine growing up with a lawyer and a shrink as parents.'  But he was laughing.  He sat back down beside his mother.

'Did we analyse your every word, dear?' asked Mrs. Hutchinson.  'Because we never intended to do so.'

'No,' said Hutch, patting her hand.  'No, you didn't do that.'

'Good,' said Mr. Hutchinson.  'God knows we weren't perfect parents, but....'

'Who is?' asked Starsky.

'Your parents didn't do so bad a job on you, did they?' asked Hutch's mother.

'Well, I like to think they did okay with me,' Starsky admitted.  'My brother, on the other hand...'

There was a moment of silence in the room, that rang like one of those Chinese gongs.

'Nick is a handful,' Starsky said quickly.  'You can't blame anyone, though.  Not any one person.  That's too easy.  I've seen so many crooks who had loving parents.  And abusive parents can raise great kids. Who can tell?'

'Oh, that's so true,' said Mrs. Hutchinson, turning to Starsky with her warm smile.  'That's just the thing, David.  Children often turn out so different from the way you try to raise them.  The parents are liberal, and their children are conservative.  Or vice versa.'

'The parents are human rights activists, and one of their children is a little neo-nazi storm trooper,' said Hutch.

No one laughed.

'If you mean Bobbie...' Mr. Hutchinson began.

'Who else could I mean, Dad?' asked Hutch.

Again with the silence, thought Starsky.  Enough.

'I know your brother was rather wild,' he said.  'But what does that have to do with....'

'With the price of tea in China, Starsk?  One or two things, as it turns out.  I didn't exactly tell you everything about Bobbie.'

No kidding, thought Starsky.

'And I should tell you, now that you're a member of the family.'  Hutch got up and began to pace, again.  'It's not easy, because, well, because it's not easy.'

'Family crises never are,'  Starsky pointed out.  'You told me that Bobbie ran with a gang, and the gang killed someone.  They never spent any time in jail for it, not even a day.'

'Because of their lawyers,' said Mr. Hutchinson.  'I was one of those lawyers.  I believed that jail would only turn them into hardened criminals.'

'Which they weren't already, Dad?  They were murderers.  How much more hardened can you get?  I'm sorry.  I know this happened a long time ago.  And I've forgiven you.'

'Have you?' asked Mr. Hutchinson.

'Yes,' said Hutch.  'I'm still angry, but not at you.  I'm angry at society because gay men are seen as less than human, as acceptable targets.  Even if you and the other lawyers hadn't gotten those kids off, how much time would they have served?  I bet when they got home from being questioned at the police station, their parents patted them on the back for ridding the world of a queer.'

'We didn't do that with Bobbie, Ken,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.

'No, you didn't.  You sent him to a psychiatrist.  He talked over his anger and frustration at being raised in a left-wing, bleeding-heart-liberal family.  He moved to Texas, where men are men, and being a fag is still practically a hanging offence.  He fits in real well, and he's a contributing member of society.  But he's still a murderer.'

More silence.

Starsky cleared his throat.  'And why didn't you tell me all this before today?' he asked.  'What did you think I'd do?'  His voice sounded bewildered in his own ears.

'I told you most of it, Starsk,' said Hutch.  'But I couldn't tell you all.  It was too... close, I guess.  Too personal.'

'Why?' asked Starsky again.  Then, he thought he knew the answer.  'Because you knew the victim?  The man they killed?'

'The boy, Starsk,' said Hutch, gently.  'I knew him.  He was my boyfriend, I guess.  Though we never really used that word about each other.'

Now Mrs. Hutchinson cleared her throat.  She almost sounded as if she were going to cry.  'We didn't know,' she said.  'Ken didn't tell us until long after.  We didn't even know he knew the boy.  So we didn't understand why he was so angry when Bobbie didn't go to jail.  If we'd known...  Excuse me, I need to check on dinner.'

'I'll help,' Starsky offered.  'No, really.  I'll help.  Peel potatoes, or something.  You guys talk,' he tossed over his shoulder.  'Whew!' he added, as he closed the kitchen door.

Mrs. Hutchinson was wiping her eyes.  'Family talks,' she said.  'Sometimes they can get rather emotional.'

'Really heavy, yeah,' said Starsky.  'Don't psychiatrists have special inside knowledge about how to deal with that sort of thing?'

'When it comes to other people's families,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'When it comes to our own, we're all neophytes.'

**************************

'Mmm.  Mrs. Hutchinson, you are a good cook,' said Starsky, finally putting down his fork.

'Thanks, dear.  Hope you like apple pie and ice cream, because that's what we're having for dessert.'

'I love apple pie and ice cream,' said Starsky.

'Did you leave room for it?' asked Hutch.

'I always have room for apple pie,' said Starsky.  'Here, Mom.  Let me help you with the dishes.'

'Mom?' asked Mrs. Hutchinson, and Starsky blushed a little.

'Well,' he said.  'You told me I was one of the family, now.'

'He's just mad at his own mother,' said Hutch.

'Am not.  Tried calling her from the hotel room, to tell her I love her, but there wasn't any answer.  Maybe she's out talking to her Rabbi.  Planning my rehabilitation.  I'll try again after dessert.'

'Is your mother really upset?' asked Mrs. Hutchinson, as they carried the dishes into the kitchen.

'Depends what you mean by upset,' said Starsky.  'Wow!  Cool dishwasher,' he added.  'I want one of those for our kitchen.  Hutch loves the place, but I gotta tell you -- it's straight out of the Middle Ages.  And I mean that literally.  The kitchen is a horror story.  A wood burning stove, if you can believe it.  At least there's a proper bathroom, because I wouldn't use an outhouse even for Hutch. But I'm putting my foot down about the kitchen.  If I'm gonna live there, it's renovation time.'

'Will the owner agree?'

'If she knows what's good for her,' said Starsky.  'It's not like people are beating down her door to rent it.  And she is hoping to sell, eventually.'

'Would you buy it?'  asked Mrs. Hutchinson.

'Yeah.  If Hutch wants to.'

'What about what you want?'

'Hey!  Quit talking like a shrink.  My Mom wanted me to see a shrink.  It's why I walked out on her.  No offence, but I don't need therapy.'

'Sorry. Force of habit,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.

'I know all about those things.  I still think and act like a cop. Or so Hutch tells me.  And I didn't mean to lawyer up on you -- evading the question.  It's just...'  Starsky put his last few dishes into the dishwasher and closed the door.  He turned to look Mrs. Hutchinson in the eye.  'Everyone seems to think I'm doing this against my will, or something.  Like I was teenager so in love he can't do nothing but what his lover wants. I went into this thing with Hutch with my eyes wide open.  I'm not crazy in love with him -- no more than I've ever been.  I've known Hutch -- Ken -- forever.  I know all his thoughts and his weaknesses and his strengths and his needs and his wishes and his fears.  And I know my own.  I'm doin' this because I love him, yeah.  But I know what I'm doing.  Hutch needs this.  He deserves some happiness.'

Mrs. Hutchinson digested this in silence for a while, as she got the pie out of the fridge, and the ice cream out of the freezer.  'You were the one who nearly died last year,' she said.

'I did.  Nearly died.  I survived.  I'm fine. That's why.  That's why Hutch deserves some happiness.'

'You don't think my son is fine?'  asked Mrs. Hutchinson.

'I think he will be fine.  If I have anything to say about it.  And I do.  Like you said, he looks better than he did a year ago.'

'Thanks to you,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'What did you do to him, anyway?'

Starsky chuckled.

'Now, now,' said Hutch's mother.  'No dirty jokes.'

'Who me?  Nah. Never.  And I don't think it's that.  Not just sex.  You can get sex anywhere.  Hutch can, at least.  He's so beautiful.  Women fall all over themselves, offering him their bods.  Gorgeous women.  Then they leave.'

'Why is that?  Do you know?'

Starsky stared at the apple pie, for a moment, as if he found the patterns on the pie crust fascinating.  He wondered about the ethics of this conversation.  This was Hutch's mother, after all. Should he be discussing Hutch's sex life with her, while Hutch sat in the other room, oblivious?  On the other hand, all things being considered, perhaps Hutch's mother should know this much...

'I don't think Hutch really wanted any of them to stay,' he said.

*************

They were sitting by the fire in the den, finishing off the last bites of pie.  Judith groaned, and loosened the snaps on her jeans, quite unselfconsciously.

'Now I know why I don't eat like this all the time,' she said.

'You can afford it,' said Starsky.  'I think you're too skinny.'

'Gee, thanks!'

'Don't mention it.'

'Mom!  David's teasing me,' said Judith.  'Make him stop.'

'How about if we go pick up your luggage, son?' asked Mr. Hutchinson.  'Unless you really don't want to stay here tonight?'

Hutch looked down at Starsky, who was sitting at his feet, his head resting against Hutch's knees.  'How about it?' he asked.  'You wanna stay here?'

'Sure,' said Starsky.  'It's better than any hotel room.  And there's a fireplace in the guest room.  I checked.'

Hutch chuckled, imagining making love with Starsky before the fire.  'Okay.  That settles it. The guest room.  Let's go get our stuff.'

He started to his feet, just as the doorbell rang.

'Who's that?' said Mrs. Hutchinson.

'I have no idea, sweetheart,' said her husband.  'How about if I go and see?'

Mrs. Hutchinson clicked her tongue.   'Men!' she said.  'Always so literal.   That was what we in psychiatry call a rhetorical question.'

They all trailed up the stairs behind Mr. Hutchinson.

'Yeah, Mom,' said Hutch.  'Lawyers know nothing about rhetoric.'

Mr. Hutchinson opened the front door.  'Yes?' he said, politely, to their visitor.  'May I help you?'

'Mr. Hutchinson?' asked a woman's voice, a voice Starsky and Hutch recognized.  'Is my son here?'

Damn, thought Starsky.  Of all the rotten, lousy timing.... He glanced quickly at Hutch.  Hutch was pale.  The relaxed and happy look of someone surrounded by people who loved and accepted him was gone.  Damn.

Mr Hutchinson opened the door wide.  'Of course, Mrs. Starsky,' he said.  'Please come in.'

Starsky strode forward, and hugged his mother.  'Mom!' he said.  'You shouldn't have come all this way.  No, really.  You shouldn't have.'  He turned back and smiled at Hutch.  'Why don't you and Dad go get our luggage, and check us out,' he suggested.  'You don't need me for that, do you?  I'll take Mom for a walk.  There's a park just down the street.  Noticed it as we were driving up.'

'Yeah.  Okay,' said Hutch.  But he looked worried.  'Good evening, Mrs. Starsky,' he added.

Mrs. Starsky managed a nod.

Starsky patted Hutch on the back as he walked past him on his way to the car.  He whispered in Hutch's ear, 'I'll be fine.  I can handle my Mom.  If you like, I can take my gun.'

Hutch grinned a little.  'I don't think that'll be necessary,' he said.  He and his dad climbed into the family station wagon, and drove off.

'C'mon, Mom,' said Starsky.  'Let's check out that park.'

'What's the matter, David?' his mother asked, as they strolled down the tree-lined street.  'You ashamed to invite me in your friend's home?'

'No.  Not normally I wouldn't be, anyway.  If I knew what you were up to, I wouldn't be.  What are you up to, Mom?'

'Up to?  I'm not up to anything.  I wanted to talk to you, that's all.  You left in a hurry last night.  Never even ate your dinner.'

'I didn't have much appetite, after the big lecture and all the talk about therapy.  I had enough of that.  Look, Ma.  I know you're upset….'

'Do you? You think you know how upset I am? You have no idea.'

'I do.  I have some idea.  A whole lot of idea, in fact.  And when Hutch and I get settled in our new home and I have the time, I'll call you on the phone and we'll talk about this again.  But I don't have the time right now.'

'You don't have the time?  You don't have the time to talk to your mother?'  She sounded outraged.

'I have the time to talk to you, Ma.  We can talk about the weather.  About your flight to Duluth.  About the Mets.  Anything you like.  But not this. The subject is closed for now.'

'Then why did you tell me in the first place?' she asked.

'Because Hutch and I decided to come out to our families,' he said.  

'Hutch, Hutch, Hutch.  Is he all you care about?' she asked.

'I guess it must seem that way to you right now,' said Starsky.  'He's the most important thing in my life.  He always has been.  It didn't bother you before.'

'It's different now,' she said.  'You made it dirty, or something.  Horrible.  Wicked.  Why couldn't you have just left things the way they were?  Why did you have to....'
 
It was almost completely dark, and a bit chilly.  The moon was rising.  A full moon. They sat on a park bench, and his mother slumped down, looking defeated.

'Why do you have to see it as wickedness?' asked Starsky.  'Do you really think sex is dirty?'

'Between two men, yes.'

'Why?' Starsky asked, again.

'Why?  Because, because... How do you do it, anyway?  How can two men... I don't understand,' she wailed, at last.

'Mom.'  Starsky took her hands in his.  'You don't have to understand.  You don't have to know what we do in bed.  I'm sorry the idea upsets you.  Just put that out of your mind.  Do you always go around thinking about what other people do in bed?  Did it upset you when I had girl friends, and we slept together?'

'No.  But they were women.  You see!' she added triumphantly.  'You had girl friends.  You're not gay.  You can give this up, if you try.'

'I don't want to give it up,' said Starsky.

'But... but if you had girl friends, if you're not gay... I mean, you don't feel for Hutch what you felt for those women.  Do you really want to spend the rest of your life sleeping with a man?  What about, what about desire?  What about, well -- what about lust?'

'What about it?' asked Starsky.

'Well, you don't want Hutch, that way.  Not really. You can't.'

'Mom.  I want Hutch.  Okay?  I do want him.'

She stared at him, her dark eyes shining, reflecting the moonlight.  'Are you trying to tell me, David Starsky,' she said, earnestly.  'Are you trying to tell me that you feel for Hutch what other men feel for their women? What you've felt for women in the past?  Are you trying to tell me it's the same?'

Oh no, thought Starsky.  You won't persuade me to be so disloyal.  Lust?  No, perhaps not.  Perhaps there was no overwhelming lust, on his part at least.  When Hutch walked into the room, he didn't feel the lust he felt when he saw a beautiful woman.  That was true enough.  But that was also something personal and private.  Something he would never, even under the threat of torture and death, admit to anyone.  Not to his mother, not to his rabbi, and certainly not to Hutch.

Lust was nice, he thought.  It was also a piss-poor basis for a relationship.

'I'm telling you it's the same, Mom,' he said.

'I don't believe you,' she said.

'That's your privilege,' he answered.

************************


His father had been driving for some time, Hutch noted.  Far longer than it should have taken to get to the hotel by the most direct route.  Hutch cleared his throat, but Mr. Hutchinson said nothing.

'Taking the scenic route are we, Dad?' he asked, finally.

'Yes,' his father said.

Hutch stared out the window for a few minutes.  'Everything looks the same to me,' he said.  'But it's nice to see it again.'

'That's good,' said his father.

Hutch smiled.  James Hutchinson was not normally so taciturn.  He remembered long drives with his parents.  His mom and dad in the front seat, debating.  Politics, religion, and ethics.  Art, music, and dance.  History.  Philosophy.  Literature.  Hutch in the back seat with his brother and sister.  At first he hadn't understood more than ten percent of what his parents were saying.  But later, he discovered a lot of it had sunk in.  He still could not figure out why so much of it had managed to pass Bobbie by, or if it truly had.  Did Bobbie simply decide to rebel against everything his parents stood for, and believed in?  Or did he sincerely believe all those things he said?  God only knew.

'Thanks for being so understanding, Dad,' Hutch said.

'You're welcome,' said his father.  'But there wasn't all that much to understand.  We talked it over years ago.  We understood then.'

'I know,' said Hutch.  'But still....'

They had talked it over, years ago.  Hutch had finally broken down, and told them why he rarely visited.  Why he couldn't stand to be in the same room with his brother.

'When he attacked Alan, he attacked me too,' he told them.

'Of course, dear,' his mother answered.  'When someone is killed in such a violent act, we're all diminished.'

'That's not exactly what I meant, Mom.  I meant, that Alan and I would be the same, in Bobbie's eyes.  We had sex together.  Bobbie and his friends might have killed me, just as well as Alan.'   He waited for an explosion that never came.  He should have known.  His parents meant everything they said about human rights.   Their belief was soul deep, and not mere lip service.

'Do you think you might be gay?' his father had asked, after they'd all cried, and begged each other's forgiveness.

'I'm not sure,' Hutch admitted.  'No, really.  I'm not sure.  I've read books on the subject.  Not much that I've read seems to apply to me.  I told you I liked being with Alan.  But I like having sex with girls, too.  And I wasn't in love with Alan.  Isn't that the important thing?  That's what I read.  That you're gay, if you can only love someone of your own sex. I think I might be able to fall in love with a woman.'

'I don't know what the important thing is,' his mother admitted.  'I know that's what they say -- whoever 'they' are. Is there really some kind of litmus test?  Some way to prove if someone is gay?  Maybe it's different for everyone.  If you're not sure, then wait and see.  Time will tell.'

His parents said all the right things.  They told him that sexual orientation wasn't a black and white issue.  They told him that just because he had sex with one or two males, that didn't mean he was gay for life. They told him that they would love him and support him whatever he decided.

What they didn't tell him -- what they couldn't tell him -- was what he longed to hear.  That love between two men could be beautiful.  That it could be a force for good in the world.  They couldn't tell him how to have a relationship with another man.  How could they?  They knew nothing about it.  As sympathetic as they were, they were straight.  They could tell him about the laws, and how they might affect him.  They could tell him about the latest psychological research on homosexuality.  But they couldn't tell him what loving another man would feel like, in the depths of his soul.

'Starsky and I talked to his mother for hours the other day,'  Hutch told his father.

'Ah!  Yes.'

'She loves Starsky.  But I'm afraid she's going to hurt him.  I don't want him to suffer because of me.'

'Of course not.'

'She kept asking us -- she's probably asking him again at this very minute -- why we had to have sex. Why couldn't we just go on as friends?  How do you answer a question like that?'

'I don't know, son.  It's really no one else's business but your own.'

'I know.  And with anyone else, that's what I'd have answered.  But she's his mother.  And she is suffering, I can see that.  She wants the best for Starsky, and she doesn't think I can give him that.  Who can blame her?'

'Do you think you can't give him the best?' asked his father.  'Isn't that for Starsky to say.'

Hutch laughed.  He'd forgotten what it was like, living with a lawyer.  'I want to give him everything,' he answered.  'And he wants to give me everything.  Sometimes we work together well.  Other times we bump into each other, get in each other's way.  I think it has to do with the fact he's left handed, and I'm right handed, so we come at things from a different angle.  Take this thing over the police chief job.  He insisted I accept the job.  He says he can live in Port Justine.  I know better, Dad.'

'Are you sure about that?   You could be wrong.'

'No.  I'm not wrong.  He'll be a basket case in a month.  But he's going to make me happy if it kills us both.'

'I hope it doesn't,' said his father.  'And I think you'll both survive.  You've been through worse, haven't you?'

'Oh, yes.  Much worse,' said Hutch.  'But that's in the past, now.  We still have to face the future.'

'It's easier to face the future with someone you love,' said his father.  'Someone who loves you back, and who is ready to fight your battles with you.  Isn't that giving someone the best?  If you can do that for Starsky, what does it matter what gender you are?'

'Now I know why I wanted to tell you everything,' said Hutch.  'I guess I was hoping Mrs. Starsky would be the same.  That she'd understand.'

His father pulled up in front of the hotel.  'Let's pick up your bags, and get you settled into that guest room,' he said.  'If Starsky's hurting when we get back, I'm sure you'll think of the right things to say to him, once you're alone.'


***************************

The sofa bounced, waking Hutch from his doze.  Starsky bounced once or twice more, as if to ensure Hutch was awake.

'You awake?' he asked, rather unnecessarily.

'Yeah, yeah.  You get your mom settled for the night?'

'I guess.  She's not exactly happy, but that's her fault.  She coulda stayed home, but she didn't.  She coulda taken a hotel room, but she didn't.  She's got no right to complain, but she does.  I'm tired of her, right now.'

'She loves you.  She's worried about you.'

'Yeah.  You're such a monster.  God only knows what you're doing to me, when we're alone.  What you watching?'

'Watching?  Oh.  I was watching the news, but I drifted off -- good grief!  That's Victor Mature, isn't it?  Wearing animal skins?  What's this?'

'It's One Million BC, that's what it is,' Starsky announced.

'No.  It can't be.  Where's Raquel Welch?'

'It's the earlier version,' said Starsky.  'From the 1940s, or something, wasn't it?'

'I have no idea,'  Hutch admitted.  He watched the movie for a few minutes, in horrified amusement.   'Good grief!' he said, again.  'And I thought the Raquel Welch version was bad enough.'  A lizard, impersonating a dinosaur and doing a very bad job of it -- which wasn't the poor lizard's fault, since lizards aren't famous for their acting abilities -- was pelted with rocks and stupidly stood there until the rocks killed it.  No wonder the dinosaurs died out, he thought.  Though that happened long before One Million BC.  Long before.

'This version makes me miss Raquel Welch,' said Starsky.

'I didn't know you even knew her,' said Hutch.

'Ah!  There's lots of things you don't know about me, Hutchinson.'

'Like what?'

'Like… I have you all figured out,' he said, triumphantly.

'You do?' asked Hutch.  'I've lost all my mystery, have I?'

'Hmm,' said Starsky.  'I wouldn't go that far.'

'Well, if you have me all figured out, then I'm not mysterious.'

Starsky studied him, with first one eye, then the other, then both.  'Nah.  I guess not,' he declared.  'I guess you're not mysterious.  But, I think you want to be unhappy.'

'No I don't,' said Hutch.  'But I don't want you to be unhappy, either.'

'Then quit fighting me,' said Starsky.  'Because that makes me unhappy.  I'm too old, Hutch.  I can't ask my mommy if it's okay to have sex.  It's not up to her to pick my mate for me.'

'Of course not,' said Hutch.

'But. There's always a 'but' in your tone of voice when we talk about this.  It left for a while.  Now it's back.  You remember when we met?'

'Yeah.  Of course I do,' said Hutch, a bit startled by the change of topic.

'I do, too.  I was attracted to you, but we were in the Police Academy.  Hardly an safe environment, for two guys to get it on.  So, it wasn't a good idea to act on that attraction, physically.  And I liked you.  A lot.  It didn't seem worth endangering such a good friendship and partnership, just for a night or two of sex.'

'Yeah.  I know what you mean,' said Hutch.  'It wasn't that powerful an attraction.'

'Nah.  You don't know what I mean, at all,' said Starsky.  'It was a very powerful attraction.  So powerful, it was worth letting it grow.  Worth waiting for the right moment, when we wouldn't be in such danger when we gave in to it.  You know how you can feel an instant lust for someone, and you give in to that lust, and then, it just all drains away, and there's nothing left?   It was worth not risking that.  What we have, Hutch, it won't go away.  It won't.  It's had time to grow.  It comes from here.'  Starsky patted his chest, over his heart.  'Not here.' He patted Hutch's crotch.  'That doesn't make it weaker, less important.  It makes it stronger.  More important.  So important that I even put up with all this nonsense from you.'

'I know, Babe,' said Hutch.  'I'm sorry.  I'm not... I don't mean to denigrate what you feel for me.'

'Then don't,' said Starsky.  He pushed Hutch back, into the cushions, and straddled his body.

'Starsky?' asked Hutch, feeling more than a little worried.  They were in the den.  Someone might come walking in.

'Shh.  It's okay,' said Starsky.  'Everyone's in bed.  I checked.'

On the TV,  the Rock Tribe, and the Shell Tribe were celebrating their liberation from the pathetic lizards... er, dinosaurs, and their new found harmony. Caveman Victor Mature and his Cavewoman co-star -- whatever her name was, she was no Raquel Welch -- walked off happily into the sunset with their little Cavebaby.  Typical Hollywood happy ending, thought Hutch.  But then, the hero had to kill a few monsters to earn it.

***************************

'Pass the toast, will you Kenny?'

'Mmm?  Oh, sorry.  Here you go, Judith.'

'Sheesh.  You're half asleep. What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing, Sis.  I'm fine.  Getting old, I guess.  It's harder to wake up in the morning.'

Judith laughed.  'Sure, Old Man,' she said.  'How about your partner?  Is he awake yet?'

'He was still snoring away when I got up,' said Hutch.

'He snores, does he?  How can you stand sleeping with him?'

'There are compensations,' said Hutch.

'Compensations?  What sort of compensations?' Judith asked, mischievously.

'Never mind.... Well.  Speak of the devil.'

Starsky came in, rubbing his eyes sleepily.  'Mornin',' he mumbled.

'Good morning, David,' said Judith, brightly.  She looked him up and down.  'I guess there are compensations, brother, if he looks that good before he's awake and properly dressed.'

'Huh?  Starsky?  He's never awake and properly dressed,'  Hutch averred.

Starsky gave him a mock offended look.  Then,  'What's that you're eating?' he asked.  'Snail guts and frog tails?'

'Nah.  I'm saving that for lunch.  This is just yoghurt and granola.'

'Yuck!'

'Here.  Try some.'  Hutch dipped his fingers in the yoghurt and held them out to Starsky.

'Hutch,'  said Starsky. 'Behave.'

'Lick it off my fingers,' said Hutch.  'Go on.  Try it.'

'Uh, guys,' said Judith.  'I'm sitting right here.'  She covered her eyes with her hands, but peeked through her fingers anyway.

'So?  It's just yoghurt,' said Starsky.  'Even if it is all white and creamy.'  He grabbed Hutch's hand and licked it clean.

They heard a gasp from the kitchen doorway.  Mrs. Starsky stood there, pale and shaking.

'Uh, Mom,' said Starsky.  'Have some coffee?'

'No, thanks,' she answered.  'Not in this house.'

'It's quite good, actually,' said Judith.  'Fresh ground Colombian.'

'I'm sure it is, but I have to be going.  Thanks for putting me up last night.  Goodbye.'  She turned and walked away, heading for the front door.

'I'll go talk to her,' said Starsky.

'No.  Let me,' said Hutch.

'I can....'

Hutch put his fingers over Starsky's mouth, lightly.  'Shh,' he said.  'You can, but you shouldn't have to.  Besides, it's not really you she's mad at.  It's me.'

'Oh, she's plenty mad at me,' said Starsky.

Hutch followed Mrs. Starsky out the front door, and caught up with her on the corner.  'Are you walking to the airport?' he asked.  'You should have had that coffee before you started.  Breakfast, too.  And that was rude, by the way.'

'How dare you lecture me about my manners?  After that display you put on in the kitchen.'

'That display wasn't for your benefit.  We didn't even know you were there.'

'Really?  Then for whose benefit was it?'

'We were having fun,' said Hutch.  'That's all.  It was just yoghurt.'

'You were flaunting yourselves.  Putting on a show.  Pretending.'

'Pretending?  Pretending what, Mrs. Starsky?' asked Hutch.

'Pretending to do the things that boys and girls, men and women do,' said Starsky's mother.   'When they're in love.'

'We are in love,' said Hutch.

Mrs. Starsky looked at him pityingly.  'Maybe you believe that,' she said.  'Maybe you think you're in love, but you don't even know what love is.  You're pathetic.'

'Is this how you talked to David?' asked Hutch.  'Did you say these things to him last night?'

'I tried to wake him up.  I tried to show him what his life would be like.  I love my son.'

'I love him, too,' said Hutch.  'Whatever you think.'

'Then stop this.  Stop dragging him through the gutter, before it's too late.  If you're capable of any human feelings, you'll let go of him.  I suppose he's grateful to you, because you took care of him when he was shot...'

'When you couldn't even bother to fly out to see him,' said Hutch.

'...But he doesn't owe you his soul,' said Mrs. Starsky.

'That's for him to decide, not you,' said Hutch.  He glanced back at the house.  Starsky was standing in the window, watching them.  Hutch couldn't see his face clearly, but something in his stance told him Starsky was worried.  'Why do you think he's so stupid, that he doesn't know his own heart?  Do you really think I could force him into a relationship he didn't want?'

'It's the only explanation for this,' said Mrs. Starsky, waving her hands, expansively.

'No,' said Hutch.  'It's not the only explanation.  There's another. At least one other.  Starsky loves me, and he wants this.'

'I can't accept that,' said Starsky's mother.  'I'll never accept it.'

'Never is a long time,' said Hutch.  'You're dooming yourself to a long time being unhappy.'  He started back for the house.  'I'll call you a cab, if you like,' he tossed over his shoulder.  'And maybe you should grab your coat, before you leave?'

'Don't patronize me, Mr. Hutchinson.  You're so superior, aren't you?  You must be happy, now.  Destroying my family.  Destroying all families. All civilization.  Do you hate your mother? Your parents?  Is that it?'

'Hate my mother?  Hate my mother!'  Hutch couldn't help laughing.  'I love my mother.  And my father.  And my sister.'

The front door opened.  Starsky stood on the front step, regarding them with dubious eyes.  'Mom?' he said.  'What are you doing?  Wasn't last night enough for you?'

'What am I doing?' said Mrs. Starsky, turning on her son.   'The question is, what are you doing?  Why are you punishing me like this?'

'I'm not punishing you, Ma,' said Starsky, wearily.  'When Hutch and I got together, you were the last person on my mind.'

***************************************

'It should be just over that little hill,' said Hutch.  'If I remember right.'

'Little hill?  Looks more like a mountain, to me.  Sure there aren't any bears around?'

'I'm sure,  Starsky.  At least, I never saw any when I was a kid.  I came here a lot, hoping to see wild animals. Lions and tigers and bears. This was my favourite spot.  Hope they haven't paved it over.'

'Why would they?  Out here in the Wilds of Duluth?'

'The Wilds of Duluth.  Cute.  And you're sure you don't mind, that....'

'That you used to meet your boyfriend here?  Nah.  I'm honoured you want me to see it.'

They climbed the hill, and started down the other side toward a little copse of trees.  A tiny stream meandered through the copse, and formed a miniature pool.  It was amazing, thought Starsky, that the developers hadn't bulldozed it, hauled in tons of gravel, and concrete to build a dozen enormous condos, and then named the housing development Forest Glade....  He stopped mid thought.  My God, he continued, on another tack.  I'm starting to think like Hutch.  Maybe his semen is affecting my mind.

'It looks just the same,' said Hutch, in an awed voice.  'Smaller than I remember, but otherwise....'

They sat on a rock overlooking the pool.

'I came here, after Alan died, and thought of drowning myself in the pond, but it wasn't deep enough, and besides, I'm too good a swimmer. And I didn't really want to die.'

'Thank God,' said Starsky.

'I didn't really want to die,' said Hutch, again.  'I wanted everything to be right again.  I wanted Alan to be alive, and my parents to be my heroes again.'

'I know that feeling,' said Starsky.  'All those feelings.'

'Yeah,' said Hutch.  'I'm sorry, Starsky.'

'If you say you're sorry one more time, we're gonna have our first fight.'

Hutch laughed, bitterly.  'I'll risk it,' he said.  'I really am sorry.  Sorry that your Mom is mad at you.  Sorry that I've given you so much grief.'

'It is not your fault.  It is not your fault.  This is a recording. It is not....'

'But it is, Starsk.'

'No.  It's not.  Hutch, you can't live without causing unhappiness to someone or something.  No one can.  No matter what we do, or don't do, someone will be hurt.  If you want to break up with me, I'm the one who'll be feeling pain.'

'I don't want to break up with you,' said Hutch.  'I've never wanted that.  Even when I was really angry at you, I couldn't bear the idea of never seeing you again.  And I'm not apologizing for loving you.  I realized something today, when your mother was talking to me.  I must have seemed as, well, as patronizing to you as she is.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Yeah.  And I didn't mean it that way.  You know your own heart, Starsk.  Beyond a doubt.  But I think I've always been haunted by Alan.  His ghost follows me around, maybe, rattling its chains, reminding me that life is short, and nothing lasts, and when things go wrong, and you're hurting the most, the people who are supposed to love you will betray you.'

'Hutch.  Your parents.  They didn't know.  They didn't.'  Starsky stopped, because what was the use?  Hutch had been a boy at the time.  An adolescent. Vulnerable, and emotional, like most adolescents.  In love.   Starsky was sure of that, whatever Hutch said himself.  If the object of his affections had been a girl, and she had been murdered so violently, Hutch wouldn't have had to hide his grief, and everyone would have been sympathetic.  Instead....

Starsky pulled Hutch into his arms.  'I wish I'd been there,' he said.  'If I'd been your friend, you could have told me everything.'

'Could I?  Are you sure?  Are you sure you wouldn't have turned on me, like Bobbie did?'

'I'm sure,' said Starsky.  'C'mon.  Tell me everything, like it just happened.'

'You thinking of starting a new career as a therapist?'

'Nah.  I'd never have the patience.  Sit there all day, listening to people whine and moan?  But I can listen to you talk.  Never get tired of it.'

'Ah,' said Hutch.  'I'll remind you of that, years from now, when we're old, and you tell me to stifle it.'

'Never,' said Starsky.  'I'm no Archie Bunker.  Now, spill it, Hutchinson.  Quit stalling.  Pour out your guts to me, Babe.'

'You're right, Starsk.  You'd never make a therapist.'

'Hutch.'

'Okay, okay.  Guts, coming up.'

**************************

'Did you have a nice walk, David?' asked Mrs. Hutchinson.

'Yeah, Ken showed me all his favourite places around town.'  Starsky sprawled on the couch, giving an exaggerated portrayal of someone worn out by doing the Duluth Tour.

'That's good,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.

'Uh, my Mom?' asked Starsky, hesitantly.  'She make it to the airport okay?'

'As far as I know, dear.'

'That's good.  I'm sorry she was rather unappreciative of your hospitality...  No, really.  I must apologize.   She's not usually like that.  She's so old-fashioned and polite most of the time.'

'People do lose their manners, when they feel threatened.'

'Threatened?  Who was threatening her?'

'We all were, I guess, in her own mind.  Her whole map of the world suddenly became obsolete.'

'Yeah, but maps have a way of doing that, Mrs. Hutchinson.  You just draw a new one.  You can't insist your old one is still valid, when it obviously isn't.  Like with Hutch and me.  Our lives have changed a lot, over the years.  I can't be his partner on the force no more, and I think he was a little bit upset when I told him that.'

'You think?' asked Hutch, but he smiled.

'Yeah, just a little bit upset.  But you didn't stomp off and refuse to listen to me.  Even when we fight, you still listen to what I say. You argue with me, but you listen.  My Mom's just shutting me out.  She's right, and I'm wrong.  I guess that makes her feel safe, whatever it does to me.  But she'll come around, and if she doesn't, well, it's her loss.  She's not the first mother who isn't happy about her son's choice of marital partner.'

'Marital partner?' asked Hutch.  He looked a bit shocked.  'Was that by way of a proposal?'

'Well, I guess.  I thought we were already married. We got the house and the new dishes.  What more do we need?'

'How romantic,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.

'Starsky can't stand all that mushy stuff,' said Hutch.

Starsky bounced up off the couch, and flung himself on his knees in front of Hutch's chair.  'You must have noticed that my feelings for you have grown over the years,' he said.  'And I cannot live without you.  Will you do me the inest... inestima... very great honour of marrying me, Kenneth Hutchinson?  There!  That enough for you?'

'Now, there's an offer I can't refuse,' said Hutch.

**************************

'I was a wild kid, I guess,' said Starsky.  'But I've settled down.  I always wanted to really settle down.  Have a home.  A family.  I never wanted to stay a bachelor.  Hutch... Ken tried marriage, and didn't like it.  You know about that, of course.'

'You think he'll like it with you better?' asked Judith.

Starsky glanced at the door to the family room, to see if Hutch was listening, but he was still in the kitchen cooking dinner with his father.  'I think so,' he said.  'We're already married, to tell the truth.  Have been for years.  All that's missing is a couple of kids of our own.   But they won't be that easy to come by.'

'Well, no,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'You can't pick them up at the corner store.'

'And so you shouldn't,' said Starsky.  'You should have to earn your children, I think.  Some people take them for granted.  They get married and have kids, just because everyone does, and it's expected of them.  They don't value their children.  Their uniqueness.  Their souls.  See, when Ken and me have kids, we'll value them.  We're gonna have to work for it, more than most people do.'

'How are you planning on having these children?' asked Mrs. Hutchinson.

'Well, I was teasing my Mom, when we were still on speaking terms, that I was going to find a Jewish lesbian who wanted a kid.  But I'm not sure I know any.  Yet.  I suppose we could advertise.  Then we'd have to work out some kind of deal, I guess.  A contract or something.  If she's a stranger, she'll probably want money.   Then, all kinds of problems might crop up. What if she changes her mind, and doesn't want to share once the baby's born?  What if she won't allow Ken any legal rights, because he's not the baby's biological father?  What if she takes the kid and runs off somewhere we can't find her?  There's so much stuff we have to plan for, think about.  Like I said, it's not going to be easy.  But it'll be worth it.  I know that.'

'You can ask Ken's dad for help on the legal aspects,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'Contracts aren't foolproof, but they're better than nothing.'

'Yeah.  That'd be good,' said Starsky, brightening considerably.  'When we were renting our house in Port Justine, I suggested we ask you guys about it, but Hutch said you knew nothing about real estate.'

'Now, that's not true,' said Judith.  'Ken was just being contrary.  I've even sold real estate.  So there!'

Starsky laughed.  'You two are the most competitive brother and sister I've ever known,' he said.

'It's mostly in fun,' said Judith.  'Mostly.  Even when we were children, we always tried to best each other.  Be the one to get the better grades, or the best summer job.  But I do love him.  I do want him to be happy.  And now, I feel like I have another brand new brother.'

'And you don't have to compete with me,' said Starsky. 'Do you... do you ever see Bobbie?'

'Occasionally,' said Judith.  'Very occasionally.  I saw him last year.  Briefly.  He came to see Mom and Dad over a family matter. And I got called in to deal with something.'

She didn't elaborate, and Starsky had the feeling the meeting had not been exactly friendly.  'I don't get along all that well with my own brother,' he said.  'So I know how you feel. And right now, Nick and me aren't on speaking terms, any more than my Mom and me.  I don't intend to allow the situation to continue, but I think we need to cool down before we can talk again.'

'I think your mother will come around,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.  'I didn't get the feeling she's the unforgiving type.'

'No,' said Starsky.  'No she's not. She thinks she can argue me out of this.  She thinks if she comes up with just the right argument that I'll see the error of my ways.  But there is no error.'

'You're sure of that, aren't you?' asked Judith.

'Oh, yeah.  I'm sure.'

'I'm asking for a specific reason.  There's something I've been turning over in my mind.'

'Oh, yeah?' asked Starsky.

Judith looked serious.  'Yeah,' she said.  'This is important.  Do you and Ken seriously intend to make a permanent home together?  Do you seriously want children?'

'Yes. I do.  I know Hutch does.  We're serious types.'

'Starsky!' said Hutch from the doorway.  'Watch your mouth.  You don't have a serious bone in your body.'

'I do so,' said Starsky.  'I can show you....'

'Now, now.  Not in front of my mother.  What's this all about, anyway.'

'Ken.  I'm glad you showed up. Just in time.  I was about to make your pal here a little proposition.'

'If there's anything David loves, it's propositions,' said Hutch.  'What is this one composed of?'

'Well, David said you were looking for a Jewish lesbian.'

'He's looking for a Jewish lesbian,' said Hutch.   'I'm just looking for a drink.'  He went to the bar, and poured himself a beer.  'Go on with the proposition,' he added.  'Don't mind me.'

'I won't,' said Judith.  'David said you were looking for a Jewish lesbian to bear his children.'

'Some hope,' Hutch commented.

'Ken, will you let me finish?  Now, I'm not Jewish.  Nor am I a lesbian.  I can, however, bear children.  And I've been wanting to have a baby, while I'm still young.  I don't want to get married, though.  Guess I'm like Ken, in that regard.'

'What... what are you suggesting, Judith?' asked Starsky.  He didn't know whether to trust his own ears.

'I'm suggesting I can have your baby for you...   Well, why not?  Ken, stop laughing.  I'm healthy.  Sane.  Intelligent.  Gorgeous...'

'Humble,'  said Hutch.

'Available for free.  One of the family.  The baby will be your niece or nephew, and David's son or daughter.  I won't take off into the wild blue yonder with the kid.'

'You're serious, aren't you?' said Starsky.

'I'm the serious type,' said Judith.

*****************************************

Papers, notes and lists littered the dinner table, along with dishes and half eaten food.  Hutch's parents had left them to it, about an hour ago.  They each had their lists.  Pros and cons. Bad and good.  Should they or shouldn't they?

'Can anyone think of any more negatives, here?' asked Judith.  'We don't want surprises.  Not the bad kind, anyway.  I don't want to be nine months pregnant, and discover you've changed your minds.'

'I won't change my mind, Judy.  I swear,' said Starsky.  'But the final word here belongs to you and Hutch.  You, because you're the one who has to carry the baby, and go through all that labour stuff.  I'm glad it's you, by the way.  I'd make a lousy woman.  And Hutch, because you're her brother.  I mean, if you have crummy feelings about this, it's no good.'

'Crummy feelings, Starsk?'

'Yeah.  You know. Crummy.  If this feels too close, too personal, if you'd rather it was a stranger, instead of your sister, then just say so.'

'No.  I don't think so.  It's funny, but I don't think so.  It feels right, somehow.'

'You mean you don't feel jealous?' asked Judith.

'Should I?' asked Hutch.

'No.  I like David, but I'm not in love with him.  I don't want to get married.  I don't know if I could ever fall in love, and spend the rest of my life with anyone.  And I don't think David's in love with me, either.  So, it doesn't matter one way or the other to me.  If you think we should use artificial insemination, that's okay.  Or we could just have sex.  What do you think?'

'Well, that's up to you guys, isn't it?' said Hutch.  'The idea doesn't bother me.  Artificial insemination feels, well, artificial.  To my mind.'

Starsky took his hand.  He looked into his eyes.  'Are you sure, Hutch?' he asked.

'I'm sure,' Hutch answered.

Starsky glanced at Judith.  'Give us a few minutes alone,' he said.  'We'll get back to you.  C'mon, Tough Guy.'  He dragged Hutch from his chair, and tugged him out the door.  It was late, and the moon was rising.  He held Hutch's hand, and they walked to the park where he and his mother had talked the night before.  This seems to be the place for emotional conversations, thought Starsky.

'I'm fine about it, Starsky,' Hutch told him, again.  'I've been thinking about it, ever since Judy... as long as you don't....'

'Long as I don't fall in love with her, and leave you?  I won't.  I'm not in love with her.  She's a beautiful woman.  She's a lot like you.  Funny and kind.  There's sweetness there, under everything, like there is in you.'

'Sweetness?' asked Hutch, with mock affront.

'Yeah, Tough Guy.  Sweetness.  Anyway, I like her, but I'm not in love with her.  I'm not gonna to lie awake all night, thinking about her.  I'm not gonna be grief stricken if you don't like this plan.  But I think it's ideal.  I don't think we're gonna get any better offers, Hutch.'

'No.  Maybe not.  But there are dangers involved.'

'Of course there's dangers.  There's always dangers.  There'd be dangers if we hired some stranger.'

'Yeah.  It might be the best thing, if everyone got married in the normal way, in order to have children.  But how many parents do that, and abuse their children?  Or they get divorced, and fight over the children.  And one of them gets custody, and the other kidnaps the children and leaves the country.'

'Yeah.  We've known cases like that, haven't we?  See, if we're prepared, if we're not doing this expecting it all to be a bed of roses, then it might work out.'

'Your mom, Starsky.  She might be more accepting if...'

'That's what I'm thinking, too,' said Starsky.  'If I give her a grandchild, and it's your kin too.'

'Yeah.   So, go with it.  And don't do all that messy stuff with turkey basters, unless Judy has some objection to sleeping with you.'

'Sleeping with me?' said Starsky.  'I'm not sure about that.  Sex is one thing.  Sleeping with her -- that's another.'

'Why?' asked Hutch.  'There something wrong with her? She got girl germs, or something?'

'Nah. Cut that out. Sleeping together -- that's for you and me.  Always, okay?  Told you before, you come first.  I don't want you to be in any doubt.  If you're ever in any doubt, you tell me.'

'Okay,' said Hutch.  'If you say so.'

'I say so.'  Starsky pulled him into a bear hug.  He could feel Hutch shaking, just a little. Yes, thought Starsky.  This was a scary thing.  If he had sex with Judith, even just to make a baby, it was still infidelity.  He was never unfaithful to his lovers.  But Hutch was a different case.  A difficult case.  No matter how long they were together, there would always be that niggling fear that Starsky would meet a woman, fall in love, and break up with him.  Always.  Unless Starsky laid that ghost to rest.  And the fact was, Starsky wanted children.  It wouldn't be fair, if he gave up that need.

'I'm gonna go talk to Judy now, okay?  Just talk, about practical stuff.  When we're gonna try it.  Stuff like that.  If she really doesn't mind crawling between the sheets with me.  Why don't you go talk to your mom?'

'My therapist, you mean.'

'Yeah.  That's what I mean.  We're all gonna need therapists, before this baby shows up.  Poor kid.  Doesn't know what he's in for.'

'Or she, Starsky.  What if it's a girl?'

'A daughter?  Omigod.  Sixteen years from now.  When she starts dating.  Gotta keep up my practice on the shooting range.  Any guy comes sniffing around her, I'll fill him fulla lead.'

************************

'David and Judith are discussing it,' said Hutch, to his mother.

'Ah.' she said, looking amused.  'It?'

'Yeah.  It.  You know?  It.  Having sex.'

'Young people today!  We had nothin' like this when I was young.'

'Like this?  A guy having sex with his male lover's sister to make babies?  I suppose not, though you never know.'  Hutch stretched out on the couch in his mother's office, folded his hands behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling.  'Starsky suggested I talk to you,' he added.  'You available?'

'Always.  Though I'm not sure about the ethics here.'

'Me neither, Mom.  But I just want to talk, not be psychoanalysed.  They want me to have the final word on whether or not they have sex, or use artificial insemination.  I'm trying to picture discussing this with a priest or a rabbi.  Most of them would tell me they were both deadly sins, and there wasn't much to choose between them.'

'Is that what you think?' asked his mother.

'No.  Like I told them, I think artificial insemination is messy, and artificial, and kind of gross. I can see where it might be necessary, under certain circumstances. But unless it were really necessary, I don't see the point.  So I tossed the ball back into their court.  They're the ones who have to do it, after all.  Maybe they don't want to do it.  Have sex, I mean.  In that case, fine.'

'But maybe they also don't want to hurt you?  Would it hurt you?  Are you going to resent them, for being unfaithful to you?'

'No.  How could I do that, if they're asking my permission first?  That's not what I'm worried about.'  He waited for his mother to ask what he was worried about.

'Okay,' she said.  'I'll bite.  What are you worried about?'

'Starsky's not really gay,' said Hutch.

'No?  But he's living with you.  Sleeping with you.  I assumed that he....'

'He makes love to me.  Yes.  It's very nice.  Very nice.  But I know he prefers women.  He's attracted to women's bodies.  If he has sex with a woman -- any woman, not just my sister -- he'll realize what he's been missing.  You see?'

'If he were missing something, wouldn't he already know it?'

'Yes.  Of course.  I... I've been the one holding back.  I've been the one telling him that I'd understand if he decided to end this.  He keeps saying I'm wrong.  That he's happy.  That he knows his own heart.  And he's right.  He does.  But there's always that fear in the back of my mind.'

'I think everyone feels that way.  It's hard to trust another person completely.  Maybe we're not meant to.  If we think we own someone, we start taking them for granted.'

'I don't take Starsky for granted.  Trust me.  And this is a great opportunity.  For us both.  Starsky wants children.  I want to give Starsky what he's always wanted, and here's my chance, so I said to go ahead.  But, in a situation like this, anything I do has its dangers.  If I tried to hold Starsky back, he'd get tired of me all the sooner.  He'd resent me.  But if I give him his freedom....'

'He might discover what he's been missing all this time?' his mother continued.

'Yes.  There is no perfect solution.'  Hutch got up and walked around his mother's home office, checking out the diplomas and degrees.  Her books, and pictures.  Some of them were new.  Some were old friends.  He took down a few books, and opened them here and there.  One of them turned out to be a psychiatry text book.  He glanced through it, and smiled evilly.  

"Homosexuality is a severe psychopathological condition," he read out loud.   "Its function is to ward off the dread of castration, fragmentation, separation anxieties and other conflicts....  The task of the analyst is to spoil the perverse gratification so that the homosexual might progress along the road to heterosexual functioning."

'Ken,' said his mother.

'It's a wonder you even speak to me, let alone allow me to sleep under your roof,' said Hutch.  'Don't you worry I'll murder you in your bed?  Ah.  There's more.  "Our male patients did not have good relationships with their fathers. They feared them, and reported excessive fears of injury during childhood. And, while most of them were still terribly dependent on their mothers, down deep, they feared them, too. By extension, they ended up fearing and avoiding all women. But we can free these men, men who must have sex with men, and turn them around so they can love women."  Huh?  Somehow the logic in that statement eludes me.'

'I don't get it myself, I must admit,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.

'Whew!  I thought it was my severe psychopathology and my dread of castration that prevented me from understanding how not having a good relationship with your father leads you to hate your mother, and by extension, all women, thus forcing you to have sex with men.  Would having a bad relationship with your mother turn you into a heterosexual?  Why don't you offer that theory for consideration at the next APA meeting?'  He read on. "The homosexual act is not a sexual one.  It is based on the denial of real sexuality and the acting out symbolically through sex of a need for love.... The homosexual has usually eroticized his need so that he appears to be highly sexed. Bereft of his sexual fix, his lover, he is like an addict without his connection; without his lover, he is in the pain that is always there but which is drained off sexually. But sex is not his goal -- love is."  Huh?  Isn't love what everyone needs and wants?  Is there something wrong with wanting love?'

'Not that I'm aware of.'

'That's good, because I thought I'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.  But all is not lost: "While I can minimize neither the hard work and resoluteness required of the psychoanalyst in treating this serious disorder, nor the courage and endurance required of the patient, a successful resolution brings reward fully commensurate with their labors.  I have found that homosexual habits that have persisted for years have faded away in the face of reality."  That's a relief.  Where do I sign up?'

'Most psychiatrists don't believe that any longer.  And Sigmund Freud himself didn't believe it.'

'I know.  I'm sorry.  I know you don't believe those things.  But I have to wonder why some people do.  What does it benefit them?  Why spend your life making such hateful and contumelious statements about people who haven't done you any harm, and whose only crime is to need love?'

'It gives you the feeling of power, which is nice,' said Mrs. Hutchinson.   'If you tell people they're sick, and need therapy, they'll pay you lots of money to cure them, and eventually you'll be able to afford an expensive home, and vacations on the Riviera. And that's even nicer.'

'Why don't you offer that theory for consideration at the next APA meeting?  And don't worry.  Starsky and I will come along as your bodyguards.'

***************************

'This was my room, when I was a kid,' Judith told Starsky.  'Make yourself at home.'  She sat on the edge of her bed.

Starsky walked around the room, checking out the bookcases, the shabby old record player, and the stacks of dusty old LPs. 'You were into the Beatles,' he observed.

'The Beatles.  Paul McCartney.  Yeah,' said Judith.

'I liked George,' said Starsky.

'Not John?' Judith asked.

'No.  Why'd you think that?'

'I don't know.  You seem more of the John type.'

'Nah.  I liked George.'

'Okay, okay.'  Judith laughed.  'George.  He's the mystic one.  Still into meditating.'

'Mmm,' said Starsky.  'Like Ken.  Like Hutch was, before he got off track a little.'

'You're worried about him,' Judith noted.

'Yeah,' said Starsky.  'Aren't you?'

'Should I be?  He seems fine to me, compared to what he was a year ago.'

'He is, compared to a year ago.  But that's not saying much.  See, I wouldn't talk about this to anyone else.  But, if we do have a baby together, we're gonna be part of each other's lives for many years to come. Hutch told me to say anything I felt was necessary.'

'And what are you trying to say?  That there's something seriously wrong with my brother?'

'No.  Not at all.  Nothin' that bad.  But, it's complicated, 'cause, see, Hutch and me, we've always had this weird relationship.  Like brothers, but deeper.  Almost like lovers, but not quite.  We walked a very fine line, and we never discussed it.  I think each of us believed we were the one who wanted more, but sometimes we suspected the other did too.  Then we went over that line.  Hutch thinks I did it to be nice to him.  I'd never have sex with anyone, just to be nice to them.  What does he think I am?  Some kinda sexual welcome wagon?'

'Uh....' said Judith.  She got to her feet, as if planning to escape all these intimate revelations.

'Siddown,' said Starsky.

Then, 'Sorry,' they both said, in unison.

'I didn't mean to bark at you,' said Starsky, after a moment.  'That wasn't very gentlemanly of me. Hutch and me, we're a bit rough with each other.  But with women, I'm not usually such a jerk.'

'We aren't in the usual sort of situation a man and a woman find themselves in,' said Judith.  'It's not fair of me to start something like this, and then, when the shit hits the fan, try and escape before it splatters me.  That was cowardly.'

'Nah.  It was natural.  This isn't your usual man-woman thing, that's for sure.  And I gotta confess -- even if it ruins my macho image -- it's been a while since I've been with a woman.'

'Of course.  Since you got together with my brother.'

'No.  Before that, Judy.'

'Oh!  Since the shooting?'

'No.  Before that.  See, I think Hutch and me were starting to realize, even before the shooting, as you put it.  We were both sleeping with the same woman, and we had a big fight. She was the last woman I had sex with.'

'Kinky,' said Judith.

'Yeah.  Tell me about it.  Still want into this cosy little family circle?'

'I'm not scared.  A little embarrassed, but I'll get over it.  I told you, I have no interest in marriage, but I've slept around a bit.  So, don't expect me to be shocked by anything you reveal to me.  My brother Bobbie?  He's married, yeah.  My sister-in-law puts on this sweet, submissive little wifey act around him -- and around other men.  If you ever meet her, watch out!  But around other women, she's a total bitch.  So, as a family, we have nothing much to brag about.  Except for Mom and Dad.  As far as I know, they're happily married.'

'Hutch and me are happily married.  Or we would be, if I could cure him of his doubts.  Do you have any objections to sex with me?'

'Huh?'  said Judith.  'After telling me all this, you're still suggesting we have real sex?'

'Yeah.  I am.  If you don't like my reasons just say so.'

'Okay,' said Judith.  'What are your reasons.'

'Hutch thinks that if I touch a woman, my natural heterosexual lusts will take over, and I won't want him any more. Like, I'll suddenly discover he's a guy, with a dick.  Nothin' I say can convince him otherwise.'

'So, you want to demonstrate the falsity of his theory?'

'Well, yeah.  I hope you're not offended.'

'I don't really have the right to be offended, do I?  I offered my eggs to be fertilized by your sperm, after all.'

'Well, I wasn't offended, either,' said Starsky.

'That's good.  So, what do you want to do?'

'I don't want anyone to get hurt, for a start,' said Starsky.  'But that's probably a doomed hope.'

'I don't want anyone to get hurt, either,' said Judith.  'Not you, not me, and certainly not my brother.  I wouldn't hurt him for the world, and if I thought he'd be hurt and jealous by our sleeping together....'

'Having sex,' said Starsky.  'I hope this won't seem rude, but I don't want to sleep with you.  You're a very nice woman, but....'

'But we're not lovers.  I understand.  You don't want to be too intimate.'

'I want to show Hutch he has nothing to fear.  Can you accept that?  If it's too much, if it makes you feel abused, say so now, before it's too late.'

Judith got up, and walked over to the window.  She pulled back the curtains.  The moon was full, and shining brightly.  The light reflected off the pool in the back yard.  Starsky waited, politely.

'No.  I don't feel abused,' she said.  'The less romantic we are, the better.'

'Good,' said Starsky.  'You're quite a lady.  So, if we're in agreement on that much, what about the rest?  When do you want to start trying?  What about after you get pregnant? Where are you going to live? We should discuss a few little things like that.'

Judith laughed and turned back from the window, seeming relieved.  'I'll tell you what,' she said.  'Why don't I travel back to California with you?  Check out Port Justine.  See how you and Ken and I all get along on our own.  Give Ken more of a chance to see if he'll be upset by our association.  Then I'm sure the right moment will come along.'

'Fair enough,' said Starsky.

Judith came to him, and held out her hand.  He shook it solemnly, then kissed her cheek.  'Good night,' he said.

'Good night,'  she answered.  'Give my love to Ken.'

'I will,' said Starsky.  'And I'll give him my own love.'

'Do that,' said Judith.  'If I ever meet a man who loves me as much as you love Ken, I might change my mind about marriage.'

***************************

'C'mon in,' said Mr. Hutchinson.  'I've already had your partners in crime parade through here.'

'Oh, yeah?' asked Hutch.  'Do you think this is a crime?'  But he was smiling. 'I don't,'  he added.  'But it does have the potential for disaster.'

'What domestic enterprise doesn't?' asked his father.  'When I first started out in law, I worked in a firm that handled a lot of divorce and child custody cases.  It was a revelation, I can tell you.  All those nice people from wealthy homes -- educated, church-going, fine upstanding citizens.  Tearing at each other like wild animals.  Fighting over money, cars, furniture, and their children.  In that order. Now, I just had Judy, and your Mr. Starsky in here.  Both of them worried about each other, and about you.'

'Yeah, well, we haven't got to the divorce part yet.  We haven't even had the wedding.'

'You want one?'

'One what?  A wedding, or a divorce?  I've had them both, and I didn't care for either.  I'm happy the way we are.  But I'm hoping that some kind of contract can be drawn up so that Judy's and David's rights are protected, and so there are no misunderstandings.  Just in case.'

'What about your rights?' asked his father.

'What about them?' asked Hutch in his turn.  'I'm not worried about my rights.  Why should I be?  It's David and Judy who are making the baby.  It's Judy who has to carry it for nine months, then give birth.  But, without being married to Judy, David's rights might be a bit chancy.  Where do I come in?'

'Well, Starsky says you're his partner.  He wants you to have the same rights as him, with his children.  Like a second father.  Judith agrees.  She likes the idea of her baby having two fathers.  She was in here talking about geese, or something.'

'Geese?' asked Hutch, mystified.

'Geese.  Apparently, on occasion, two male geese will form a permanent pair bond.  Rather than being ostracized, they can be quite powerful in goose society.  Since they can't have little goslings of their own, sometimes one or both of them will mate with a female, and they all raise the babies.  All three of them.  The female is happy, because her babies have two fathers to protect them.  They get the best feeding grounds.  They're better protected from predators. So, more of them survive.'

'Well, well. Imagine that.  Why don't all geese do the same, since it makes so much sense?'

'I guess there aren't enough gay geese to go around,' his father answered.

'Too bad, said Hutch.  'How many kids is Judy planning on having with Starsky, anyway? I hope not a whole flock.'

'Just one, I think.  Maybe two.'

'Or three?  Or four?  God, Dad.'

'You have reservations?' asked Mr. Hutchinson.  'You should share them with David and Judy, shouldn't you?'

'Not reservations,  no.  I'm scared.  I told them that, don't worry.  Aren't all prospective parents scared?'

'Yes.  I was.  When your mother told me she was pregnant with you, I almost passed out.  And our situation was a little less complicated than yours.  Just tell me what your concerns are, and I'll try to deal with them in this contract we're drawing up.  I suggested you all get another lawyer, outside the family.  But they wouldn't hear of it.'

'Neither will I,' said Hutch.  'I couldn't discuss this with a stranger.  Imagine trying to explain about the geese.'

*******************

Starsky was sprawled on their bed, wearing nothing but a very brief pair of red nylon underpants.  His arms were folded under his head, and he was staring at the ceiling.

'What are you thinking about?' Hutch asked.

'There are tiny cracks in the ceiling,' said Starsky.

'I'll tell Mom,' said Hutch.  'She'll get her trowel, and plaster it over.'

'Not your dad?' asked Starsky.

'Dad?  Nah.  He likes to garden, though.'

'That's where you get it from, then.'

'I guess.  You know, Starsky, if you want to be a daddy, you should start wearing boxers.  That tight underwear cuts down on male fertility.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.  See, those briefs lift your cock and balls up really high, and they get overheated.'

'Yeah.  Do they ever.'

'And heat kills off the sperm.'

'Oops.'

'And looser trousers help, too.  No more tight jeans.'

'Hutch!'

'If you want to be a daddy....'

'Okay, okay.  Any more advice?'

'Eat lots of healthy food.  Take your vitamins.  Get lots of fresh air.'

'It's a plot, isn't it?'

'If it is, it's your plot.  This is your idea, remember?'

'I know, I know.  Hoist on my own... whatever.'

'Petard.  And one more thing.  We should stop having sex, so that your.... oof.  Starsky.  Watch it.  That hurt.'

'Good.  Now let's get something straight.  So to speak.  We are not going to stop having sex.  Not ever.  Hear me?'

'I hear you.  Everyone in the house can probably hear you.  Starsk, it's just a temporary measure, to help build up the sperm count.'

'Hutchinson, I have lots of sperm.  Tons of sperm. Billions and billions of sperm.  I can drench you in it, and still have plenty left to make little babies.  Okay?'

'Okay.  Whatever you say.  You're a medical miracle.  I should report you to the Guinness Book of Records.'

'You do that...   Sorry, Hutch.  Did I really hurt you?'

'Nah.  I'm not some wimpy fairy.  I can be macho too, you know.'

'Yeah.  I know.  And I can be a real asshole, can't I?  I snarled at your sister earlier tonight.  Wanna beat me up? Listen, Hutch.  Don't push me away, okay?'

'I wasn't, Starsk.  Really.  I was telling you the truth.  If you abstain from sex for a few days, your sperm count goes up.  That's all.'

'If I abstain from sex with you for a few days, my balls will turn blue and fall off.  Like from gangrene, you know?  Then I won't have any sperm.'

'Tell me another one,' said Hutch.  He patted Starsky's groin, and felt it swell under his hand.  'That old line won't fool anyone these days.  Not even a twelve year old virgin Okie from Muskogee.'

'Hutch, there ain't no such animal.  I tell you what.  I'll take all the vitamins you want, and eat the most horrible health food drinks you can mix up.  I'll get pants so loose, no one will notice I'm a guy.  Okay?  But we go on having sex, unless it looks like there's a real problem with my sperm count.  How's that?'

Starsky looked adorably uncertain, thought Hutch.  He hid his own smile, while he solemnly considered Starsky's proposal.  'That sounds good to me,' he said at last.  'Hang on.'  He got up and searched through his half-unpacked suitcase.  Deep inside one of the side pockets, he'd tucked a bottle of multi-vitamins. 'Here,' he said.  'You can start now.'  He handed Starsky a vitamin.

Starsky stared at it like it might contain arsenic, but obediently took it.  He gulped it down with a swallow of lukewarm coffee from a cup on the bedside table.  'What about you?' he asked.  'You're the one who's so hot on vitamins.'

'Okay,' said Hutch.  He took the coffee cup from Starsky's hand, and popped a vitamin in his own mouth.

'Well,' said Starsky.  'I feel healthier already.  Let's check out my sperm count.'

***********************

'You,' said Starsky.  'You just lie there and look blond and beautiful.'

'And think of England?' asked Hutch.

'England?  Why would you...?  Nah.  You won't be thinking of anything but my cock, if I do it right.'

'Starsk?  I don't know if this is a good idea...  No, really.  We're not in our own place.'

'Excuses, excuses.'

'But you know, sometimes I'm noisy.'

'I'm counting on it.'

'Starsk.'

'Okay, okay.  I'll put my hand over your mouth, how's that?'

'Bill M 609.293,' said Hutch.

'What?'

 'Sodomy.  It's illegal in this state. Quit laughing.  I'm serious. We could get a year. Oh, and by the way, the law also prohibits sex between humans and birds.'

'Check out my back, Hutch.  Do you see any wings?'

Before last night, Hutch had never had any form of sex with another person under this roof.  It wasn't that he thought it was sinful in any way.  He just felt a bit embarrassed somehow, as if his parents might walk in at any moment.  Which was stupid.  Why was his head in this bizarre, childish space, as if he'd never grown up, never moved away from home and fucked dozens of people of both genders, without guilt most of the time?  There must be a part of us, he thought, that always stays a child.  Time to grow up.

He pulled Starsky's head down, and kissed his mouth, passionately.  He dug his nails into Starsky's back and shoulders, feeling the strong muscles sliding under the skin.  He twined his legs around Starsky's waist, offering, in a blatant invitation, to commit the terrible crime of sodomy.

'Go on,' he whispered.   'Fuck me.'

He could feel Starsky parting his flesh with his fingers, then with his cock.  It was exquisite pleasure and exquisite agony at the same time.  There was a perfect trust, and also a perfect terror, as if Starsky might destroy him, erase his consciousness of himself, all the knowledge buried deep in his soul, and leave him with nothing.  It was a kind of death, and a rebirth.  All that, and the most simple, delicious animal pleasure.  He'd never felt this pleasure with anyone else.  No one else had made him yearn to feel their pulse beating there at the centre of his own gut.  No other lover had made him feel their pleasure as if it were his own pleasure, and made him cry out at the moment of their orgasm as if it were his own orgasm, and then, in a supreme act of will, made him come himself, purely from the joy of his lover's release, and then cry out again with the ecstasy of their joining.

Oh, dear.

'You forgot,' he whispered to Starsky, when he caught his breath.

'Fuggod whad?' asked Starsky.

'Never mind,' said Hutch, grinning at Starsky's expression of dazed bewilderment.  'I'm sure they were all asleep, anyway.  Were.'

*******************

His sister had not been asleep.  Hutch knew that the moment he entered the kitchen.  Judy was sitting at the table, reading the morning paper, and drinking coffee.  She looked up, smiled, said, 'Good morning!', smiled again, looked back down at the paper and took a sip of coffee.  That was it.  But Hutch knew.

Oh, well, he thought. Now she knows we have sex.  'Are Mom and Dad out?' he asked.

'Yeah.  Mom's gone to her office, to see a few clients, as she calls them.  She only works in the morning, now.  Dad's in court, this morning.  They should both be back by the afternoon.  When were you and David planning on going home?'

'I've still got over a week before I have to start my new job.  We were thinking of going to Indiana to see you, but now we don't have to.  So, we might stay here one more day, unless Mom and Dad want to kick us out.'

'No. Don't think they'll do that.  I think they loving having you here.'

'Oh, yeah?' asked Hutch, looking at Judy pointedly.

'Oh, yeah.  It's nice to see you so relaxed and happy.  I think David is way better for you than what's'ername ever was.'

'Vanessa,' said Hutch.  'She came to a sad end.'

'Yes.  Sad.  But I can't really say I mourned her all that much.'

'You're a hard, cruel woman, Judith.'

'Maybe.  I think I'm just practical.  I'm capable of deep feelings, but not for everyone.  I'm not going to waste grief on someone I didn't know very well, and didn't much care for.  There's no profit in it.'

'You can't tot up everything like numbers on a balance sheet.'

'Why not?  A balance sheet creates balance.  If the numbers don't add up, there's something wrong.  It's the same in life.  If your life feels out of balance, maybe there's something wrong.  If it feels balanced, you must be doing it right.'

Hutch closed his eyes, and considered if his life felt in balance.  For so long, it hadn't.  He'd grown used to compensating, he thought.  It was almost as if he'd grown a crutch, or a third leg, just to keep himself on his feet.  He didn't need that crutch any longer.  Perhaps he could risk striking out on this adventure, without predicting disaster ahead of time just in case it struck.

'Did Starsky tell you, I'm thinking of coming out to California with you?'

'No.  Guess he forgot that as well,' said Hutch.

'As well?'

'Never mind.  Are you thinking of moving to California?  Tired of Indiana?'

'I only settled there because I got a good job offer right after I graduated from Indiana U.  Lately, I've been feeling a bit bored.  That's not why I want children, as a way to fight boredom, don't worry.  I'm serious about wanting kids.  But I figure, if I'm bored, there's something missing in my life.'

'Do you want to live in Port Justine?' asked Hutch.

'Only if you guys want me that close.  We'll have to discuss that seriously.  The baby will be mine, and David's, and yours.  He'll need us all.  If you're going to see the baby regularly....'

'Then, you'll have to live close by, yes.  But it's a small town.  What if you get bored there, too?'

'I'm sure I can find something to do.  Maybe I could start an accounting firm in Port Justine?  But I don't want to live in your pockets.  Make you feel crowded.'

'I won't feel that way.  Don't think David will, either.'

'Don't think I will either what?' Starsky mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen, almost in a video replay of yesterday morning.

'Come for your yoghurt?' Hutch asked.

'Does that help raise your sperm count, too?'  asked Starsky.

'Oh, you guys are just too weird,' said Judy, laughing wryly.

'Maybe what you need to balance your life, is more weirdness,' Hutch pointed out.  'And Starsky's an unlimited source of that.'

'Listen who's talking,' said Starsky, licking the yoghurt off Hutch's fingers.


***************************

'So, if you guys are staying another day, what do you plan on doing?' asked Judith.

'Well, I should go shopping,' said Starsky.  'For paternity clothes.'

Hutch choked on his coffee.

'Paternity clothes?' asked Judith.  'What in the world are those?'

'Hutch tells me that I have to wear baggy pants and underwear, if I want to be a daddy.  I think he doesn't want me to look sexy, so no one else will want me.'

'Starsky, you wouldn't be any less sexy, if you wore sackcloth and ashes,' Hutch declared.

'Thanks, Hutch.  At least, I think that was a compliment.  Do you think that was a compliment, Judy?'

'I'm not getting involved.  Not between you two,' said Judith.

'Not getting involved?  You are involved.' said Starsky.  'It's too late, to not get involved.  C'mon.  Let's finish our breakfast, then go looking for clothes that make me look fat.  I'm gonna buy Hutch boxers too.  Just to be mean.'

'Me?  I'm not wearing boxers.  No way!'

'Okay.  If you don't wear boxers, I don't wear boxers.'

'That wasn't the deal,' said Hutch.

'It is now,' said Starsky.  'If I'm gonna be flipping and flopping around in pants that make me look like some old derelict, so are you.'

'Oh, come on, guys,' said Judith.  'I'm sure we can do better than that. You don't have to look old, or derelict.  I'm sure we can, well, compromise?'

'Compromise?' asked Starsky.  'With Hutch? You nuts or something?  It's his way or the highway.'

***********************

'This stuff is out of Noah's Ark, Hutch,' Starsky protested.   'Even my grandfather wouldn't wear it.'

'Sure he would.  How do you think he got to be your grandfather? Besides, you don't have to advertise what you've got any longer, remember?  I know all about your assets.  And Judy doesn't care about them.  She just wants your sperm.'

'Hutch, I'm tellin' ya.  If you're not careful, I'll take my assets, and my sperm, and find someone that appreciates them.'

'Uh, guys?' said Judith.

They turned on her in unison.  'Yeah?  What?'

'Um.  We're in public.'

The department store was busy, and noisy, and no one was paying them any attention. 'Look around,' said Hutch.   'We could plot a murder here, and no one would overhear us, long as we keep our voices down.'

'That's just it,' said Judith.  'You weren't keeping your voices down.'

'That's Hutch's fault,' Starsky declared.  He stomped off to the dressing room, but Hutch thought he was grinning rather broadly.

'Are you sure you want a closer association with us, Judy?' asked Hutch.

Judith laughed.  'I'm sure,' she said.  'You can squabble with each other all you like.'

'You mean because then we'll be less likely to abuse you?  That wouldn't happen anyway.  David's not the abusive type.'

'No.  I can tell that.  The idea never occurred to me.  Why would it occur to you?'

'I suppose because a lot of people would assume you were vulnerable, and being exploited by us.  That it would be better for you to marry the father of your child.'

Judith snorted, rather indelicately.  'And how many wives and mothers are abused?' she asked. 'Being married doesn't make you less vulnerable, it makes you more so.  I'm not afraid of being abandoned, or of my baby being abused.  When I realized that I wanted a child, but still didn't want to get married, I started doing research.'

'Ah, yes.  The geese.  Dad told me.'

'Geese.  Yes.  And some interesting human adaptations of family dynamics.  In matrilineal societies, it's the mother's brother who acts as the legal father of her children. For example, among the Minangkabau, in Sumatra, the biological father doesn't have any real rights.  Only the mother and her brother.  You see?  Our family patterns aren't the only possible ones.'

'You really have studied the subject, haven't you?' asked Hutch.  'So, you're happy with this plan?'

'I am. Are you?'

Hutch watched the shoppers bustling around for a few moments.  'I'm becoming happy with it,' he said, at last.  He lowered his voice even more.  'This isn't exactly the best place to have such a personal conversation, but....'

'Why not?' asked Judy.  'Maybe this is less emotionally threatening, because we're not in an intimate space?'

'I didn't want Starsky to be deprived of something he wanted because of our relationship.'

'Children?'

'Among other things, yes.  And now, he won't be deprived.  So I feel more secure.'

'You should feel that way,' said Judith.  'I'm no threat.  I wouldn't dream of trying to take him away from you.  And, just for the record, I don't think it could be done.'

'Maybe not,' said Hutch.

Starsky came bustling out of the dressing room.  He stomped over to Hutch, and turned around several times, inviting his approval.  'Well?' he said.  'Whad'a'ya think?'

Hutch studied Starsky's clothes with great care.  The pants were looser than Starsky was accustomed to wearing, but they certainly didn't make him look like a derelict.  He looked a bit like a sexy, young professor.  All he needed was a jacket with suede patches on the sleeves, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. 'Actually, you look very grown up and dignified,' said Hutch.

'Grown up?  Dignified?'  Starsky looked at him with mock affront.

'Yeah.  Like a man.  A real, grown up man.'

'Like, you mean, someone you can depend on?  Someone who might make a good father?'

'Yeah.  That's what I mean.  Part of what I mean.'  Hutch lowered his voice.  'And trust me,' he said.  'You're still sexy.'

Starsky beamed.  'Okay then,' he said.  'I'll take this stuff.  Now, let's go find you something that'll make you look like a police chief.  You can't get away with wearing jeans and leather jackets all the time, you know.'

'It's a plot,' said Hutch.

'Well, if it is, it's your plot,' said Starsky.  'You started all this, remember?'

'Hoist on my own petard.'

'Exactly.'


***************************

'Mom, they argued the whole time we were out.  The whole time, I tell you.  It drove me nuts.  Until I realized that was the effect they were after, I mean.  Men!  They're like kids.'

'And you're just discovering that, dear?'

'No.  Of course not.  But you gotta understand.  These guys are professionals.  And they were deliberately overdoing it, just to get to me.'

Hutch leaned in the doorway to the kitchen.  He'd arrived in time to overhear this snippet of conversation, and to hear Starsky say, into the phone, 'Thanks, Jordan.  That's great.  Yeah, we'll be home in a couple of days, tops.  See you then.'  He hung up.  'Woohoo!' he said.

'What's up, Starsk?' Hutch asked him.

Starsky turned, caught sight of him in the doorway, and whistled.  'What did I tell ya?  You look like a million bucks.  Doesn't he, Judy?'

Judy turned to look him over, too.  'Yeah,' she said.  'At least that suit makes you look like a grownup, even if you don't act like one.'

'I look like a Mafia don,' said Hutch.  'Or a lawyer.'  He heard a chuckle behind him.  'Sorry, Dad,' he added.

His father clapped him on the back.  'No problem, Son,' he said.  'I went sailing in shark infested waters last year.  The boat capsized, but the sharks left me alone, out of professional courtesy.'

'Oh, yeah?' said Hutch.  'What have you done now?  Never mind.  That can wait.  What did Jordan have to say for herself, Starsk?'

'They're buying one of my scripts.  For sure.  And maybe another one, if I make a few changes.'

'That's terrific, Starsk.'

Hutch held out his arms, and Starsky flung himself into them.  They hugged, and then, before Hutch knew what was happening, Starsky kissed him full on the lips.  It was the first time they'd ever kissed in front of other people, and Hutch felt himself colouring a little.  He also felt an incredible joy.  All those people who would accuse them of flaunting themselves if they should kiss in public, had no idea, he thought.  There was a great happiness in not having to hide, or pretend.  Happiness, and a feeling of pride, and wholeness.  Everyone was entitled to that.

Starsky was talking excitedly about his script, and when he thought they might film it.  It was based somewhat on a case that he and Hutch had worked on, he said, but of course he'd made a lot of changes, in order to protect the identities of the people involved.

'Lisa is such a nice girl,' said Starsky.  'We don't want anyone to be able to identify her.  But we want the public to know how rape victims are treated.  As if they were the criminals.  I'm gonna make sure that's the way the story is told.  They won't get away with anything sensationalized.  I know!  I'm gonna take you all out to dinner, to celebrate.  Look, Hutch is already dressed up, and he made me buy new clothes too.  Let's give them a test run.  What's a good local restaurant?'

'Do you like Italian?' asked Mr. Hutchinson.

*******************

'Okay, Dad,' said Hutch, as they sat around the restaurant table, happily consuming huge plates of pasta, and garlic bread.  'Now I want to know what put that shark-like grin on your face earlier.'

'Shark-like grin?  What shark-like grin.'

'Quit with the innocent act.  It's fooling no one.  Like I said, what have you been up to?'

'Well, for a start, I called your friend, Michael Armstrong.'

'Spike?' asked Starsky, dropping his fork with surprise.  'What did you call him for?'

'Ken asked me to look into something.  I called Mr. Armstrong, to find out if he wanted me to help him out.  He said, he couldn't afford me.  I told him, this is pro bono, for a friend.  He told me he was no charity case.   Things went on like that for a while.'

'Sounds like Spike,' said Starsky.

'Yeah,' said Hutch.  'It does.'

'I asked him if he really wanted the rights of gay partners to languish in the middle ages forever.  I told him I owed my son a favour, besides.  He said, well, in that case.'

'So you're going ahead, Dad?'

'I am.  I've already fired the first salvo.'

'What?  What first salvo?  What have you been up to Hutch?' asked Starsky, plaintively.

Mr. Hutchinson answered for Hutch. 'Ken asked me to try and get Michael Armstrong the right to see his friend, his partner,' he said.

'Roy?  Do you think you can really get past his family?  Did Spike tell you what they tried to do?  What they did?'

'He said they were harder to fight than the Cong, yes.'

'Spike went to see them, to beg them to let him see Roy just once.  Roy's brother called him a nigger faggot, and told him to go fu... fly a kite.  Sorry, Mrs. Hutchinson.'

'My dear boy, I've heard worse,' she said with a wry smile.

'So have I,' Judith added.

'Yes, I'm sure,' said Starsky.  'But my mother raised me to be polite, when I'm at the dinner table with ladies.  Anyway.  The local sheriff showed up at Spike's motel room.  He told him to leave town, unless he wanted to end up in jail.  Said some things about how queers got what they deserved, in his jail cells.  Spike's brakes failed, on his way out of town, and if he wasn't such a brilliant driver -- almost as good as me -- he'd be dead now.  It was no accident, Spike said.  And I believe him.'

'Well,' said Mr. Hutchinson.  'He didn't have me on his side then.  I've got friends of my own.  Our tactics are a little classier than the sheriff's, but the effect is the same.'

'What was your opening salvo, Dad?' asked Hutch.

'I called the family home.  Asked to speak to Mr. Lee.  He spoke to me in rather more gentlemanly tones than Roy's brother used with Spike, but the general tenor of the conversation was approximately the same.  I am an interfering old busybody, and I should find better things to do with my time, he told me.  I informed him, that if my client were not allowed to see his friend, we'd go public with the whole story.  He asked me if the Minnesota State Bar Association knew I was mentally incompetent.  I told him they'd been trying to have me disbarred for years, but my friends in Washington DC kept me on the rolls. He asked me, since when did Satan reside in Washington DC?  I said, since he left Georgia to escape the Lee family.'

'Dad.  I hope you taped this charming phone conversation, for posterity.'

'Of course,' said Mr. Hutchinson, examining his nails, carefully.  'I'm sending a copy to Satan. He'll be very interested, I'm sure.  In the meantime, when you see Spike, ask him how far he's willing to go to win this fight.  Whatever happens, it might not have a happy ending.  What if Roy doesn't want to see him?  What if he can't even remember his own name, let alone Michael Armstrong's?  It's been years since they last saw each other.'

Starsky leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice, but his tone was firm.  'Spike loved Roy, and Roy loved him back.  I saw that for myself,' he said.  'And it wouldn't matter how many years I was separated from Hutch, or even if he was a vegetable, I'd want to see him.  Spike only left, because he was convinced he'd never get past the heavies on his own.  Figured he'd be no use to Roy if he ended up dangling from a tree branch.  But I know he's never forgotten, never really given up hope.'

'Then I'll go ahead for now.  Start laying the groundwork.  You talk to your friend.  Ask him exactly what he wants.  Does he just want to see Roy, talk to him, or does he want more?'

'More?' asked Starsky.  'You mean you'd be prepared to fight for more, if Spike wanted it?'

'I'll go as far as my client asks me to,' said Mr. Hutchinson.  'That doesn't mean I'll win, but I'll do my damnedest.'

'Dad, if you can't win Spike and Roy their legal rights, no one can,' said Hutch.

*********************

It was chilly in the garden, but he didn't need to be warm to meditate.  What he needed was to be himself, and that was something he hadn't truly been for some time.  He sat cross-legged on a bench, and opened himself to the universe.  Show me myself, he said, for I have forgotten who I am.  Who am I, when I'm not me?

At first, he closed his eyes and tried to look within, but something called to him from the vastness of space and time.  He opened his eyes, and looked up into the night sky.  He remembered reading somewhere, that when one looks into the darkness of the heavens, one is looking back in time.  We are surrounded by the past, he thought, but we can only see it at night.   The future looks bright, shining in the sun, but truly it is shrouded in darkness.

How long had it been, he wondered, since he'd meditated?  Why had he stopped?  Because of the past, lurking in the darkness?  Or was it fear of the bright, shiny future?  He remembered telling himself that he was too stressed and tired to meditate, but that was nonsense.  One should not have to be at peace to meditate.  Meditation was intended to bring peace.

He thought back, now, to the last time he tried to find this peace.  He'd planned to meditate on love, the vast love of the Creator for Creation.  His own love for Starsky had welled up from the depths of his being.  But it hadn't brought him peace.  Images flooded his mind.  Starsky in pain, dying.  Starsky finding the love of his life and leaving the force -- leaving him.  Hutch could not have said which scenario brought him the most pain.

Tentatively, Hutch opened his mind once more to all those fears and sorrows.  As a spider might do, he reached out tentacles to touch each strand of his life.  His distant past as a child.  His more recent past as a street cop.  His present life.  Several possible futures.  For a time, the web had been shaky, he remembered.  But now, it seemed to be more solidly anchored.

'Hey,' said a soft voice.  'You asleep out here in the cold?'

'No.  I was meditating.'

'Oh.  I'm sorry, Hutch.  I didn't think.'

'That's okay.  I haven't done it for so long.  Why would you remember?  Here.  Sit down beside me.'

'You sure?'  Starsky asked.

'I'm sure,' said Hutch.  'I didn't get very far,' he added.  'But the next time, I think it will be more successful.'

'That's good,' said Starsky.  'You know, I was worried about you.  You were looking kinda goofy.'

'Goofy?' asked Hutch.

'Yeah.  Kinda the way you look when you're in love.'

'Starsk?  I am in love,' said Hutch.

'Oh?' Starsky asked.  'Who with?'

Hutch had to laugh at the jealous expression on his face, and the chilly tone in his voice.  'That should be "with whom",' he said.  And he bent to kiss Starsky's mouth.  'So.  I look goofy, do I?'

'Yeah, but I can put up with it.'

'That's a relief,' said Hutch.  'I was wondering how you've been putting up with me lately.'

'Well, I can come up with a few punishments of my own,' said Starsky.

'Like what?' asked Hutch.

'Knock knock.'

'Starsky?'

'Knock. Knock.'

'Okay.  Who's there?'

'Banana.'

'Banana who?' asked Hutch, with a deep sigh.

'Knock knock.'

'Who's there?'

'Banana.'

'Banana who?'  

There were only two courses of action, here.  Go along with Starsky, or get out of town.

'Knock knock.'

'Who's there?'

'Orange.'

'Starsky!'

'Nope. Orange.'

'Orange who?'  asked Hutch, in long-suffering tones.

'Orange you glad I didn't say banana?'  Starsky looked down at Hutch's groin, pointedly.

'Yeah.  I am.  Does it really look like a banana?'

'Not really.  They are kinda funny looking though.'

'Oh?  You think my cock's funny looking?  Boy, you're full of compliments tonight.'

'Well, they are, aren't they?  Cocks, I mean.  All of them.  Even mine.'

'I guess,' said Hutch, amused by Starsky's attempts to assuage Hutch's supposed hurt feelings.  'Why do you want it, then?'

'Because it's yours.  Because I want you. Think about it, Hutch.  I'd want you, no matter what you looked like.'  He started chuckling again.  'Spike told me this terrible joke,' he said.

'Yeah?  Worse than your usual terrible jokes?'

'A guy goes to have surgery to make his penis bigger.'

'Now, why would he do that, do you suppose?'

'All guys want bigger cocks.  Anyway, the doctor attaches a baby elephant's trunk to his groin.'

'What?  The poor baby elephant.  That's sick.'

'Yeah.  So, now he's got a bigger cock. He's feeling, well, cocky.  He asks a beautiful woman out for dinner.  The evening's going great.  He's got high hopes, you know.  And then, suddenly, his new cock comes snaking out of his pants, up on to the table, and snatches a hard roll off of his plate.  It disappears back into his pants.  The lady looks surprised, but she doesn't say anything.  A few minutes later, it happens again.  This time, she says something.  'My God!  I've never seen anything like that trick. Could you do it again?' she asks.  "Well, yeah," says the guy.  "I could.  But I don't think my ass can take another hard roll." '

'What a wimp,' said Hutch.

Starsky laughed.  'Tough Guy,' he said.

'You better fucking believe it,' said Hutch.

****************************

'Wow!' said Judy.

'Like it, huh?'

'Yeah, Kenny.  I like it.  Needs some work to make it homey, though.'

'Hutch and me will get around to that, I'm sure,' said Starsky.  'When we got the time.'

'It's a nice little piece of real estate,' Judy added.

'Little?  We got the whole top of the cliff.  Way over there.  Way over there.  And there, and there.'  Starsky pointed energetically in every direction.

'The whole nine yards,' said Hutch.  'Nine hundred yards, rather.  Starsky won't go near the edge.'

'Don't need to go near the edge. I like it right down the middle.'

Hutch frowned.  Judy and Spike howled with laughter.  That was as it should be, thought Starsky.  

'Whad'y'a think, Spike?' he asked, as they all piled out of Hutch's Mercedes.  'You been thinking about Hutch's offer?'

'Yeah.  I been thinking about it.  It's got its merits, as an offer.  Not sure I like this small town stuff.  But still….'

'I know. I'm not much for small towns myself.  But this particular small town has its compensations.'

'It's not bad,' Spike admitted.  'And Hutch is right.  If the thing with Roy's family ever gets to a court case, which I doubt, it'll look better if I have a regular job.  A cop, not a private eye.  With a fixed address, not a drifter.'

'You're right.  It will look better.'  They were walking toward the Mission.  Hutch had his arm around Judy, and they had their heads together.  Plotting, thought Starsky.  I'm doomed.  

'What're you grinnin' about, Starsky?' asked Spike. Then he laughed, ruefully.  'What aren't you grinnin' about?  Look at them.  Two long, cool drinks of water.  I envy you, even if one of them is a woman.  She's gorgeous.'

'Yeah.  A gorgeous schemer.  Like Hutch.  They're a matched set.  I'm doomed.'

'I'll send you a sympathy card,' said Spike.

Hutch opened the front door of the Mission, and they all walked inside.

'Oh.  My.  God,' said Judy.  'Look at this place!  This room.  Those windows.  That staircase.  I love it.  I envy you guys.  Wow!'

'Hey!  Why envy us?' said Hutch.  'If you like it so much, why not move in with us?'

Judy turned, her eyes wide.  'You're serious,' she said.  'You are serious.'

'I'm serious,' said Hutch.  'I told you this morning, if you like the idea, I'm agreeable.  It's more convenient, after all. What about you, Starsk?'

'I'm… I'm not sure,' said Starsky.  'Don't get me wrong.  It's not that I think….'

Hutch looked at his face, and laughed.  'I've shocked you,' he said.  'Didn't know that was possible.'

'Not shocked,' said Starsky.  'It's just… well, I'll be living with you both.  I mean…. Okay.  I'm shocked.'

Judy laughed, delighted.  'There's lots of room here,' she said.  'We can be at opposite ends of the house.  You'll be living with Ken, and you can come and visit me once in a while.  Until I'm pregnant, I mean.  I don't expect any more than that.  And it needn't be a permanent arrangement.  But Ken's right.  It's convenient.'

Starsky threw up his hands.  'Okay.  Okay.  You guys win.  I'm doomed.'

Judy flung herself at him, and kissed him on both cheeks.  'Thanks, David.  I won't be any trouble, I promise.  I'll leave you guys alone now, so you can make disparaging comments about interfering women.  Gonna go check out the rooms upstairs.'  She ran off, chuckling to herself.

'She's something else,' said Spike.  


*************************************


'Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present our new Chief of Police, Kenneth Hutchinson.'

The City Hall Meeting Room was filled with concerned citizens of Port Justine.  The assembled multitudes clapped politely as Hutch strode to the podium. He looked beautiful in his new suit, thought Starsky, as he clapped twice as loud and twice as long as everyone else.  

'Thank you for the applause,' said Hutch, smiling down at Starsky.  'But I haven't done anything to earn it yet,' he said to the rest of the room

A few chuckles.  A elderly lady stood up.  'That's right, Chief,' she said.  'And you look a bit young for the job.  I'm Sarah Verne.  Just what is it you intend to do to earn your keep?'

Hutch smiled.  'I'm not all that young,' he said.  'And I've been a detective on the streets of Los Angeles for years.'

'Why give it up to come here?' asked Sarah Verne.

'Why?  Because I've been a detective on the streets of Los Angeles for years.  My partner got shot, and he can't work as a cop any longer.  We decided it was time for a change.  The mayor tells me you've had some problems here recently, and you're looking for a change, too.  Let's look together, and help each other.  I have plans to set up the new police department here, and they don't involve any attacks on your civil rights.  We'll be the Port Justine Police Department, not the Gestapo.  Several members of the old Sheriff's department have been taken on, and I've hired one new detective already.  His name's Michael Armstrong.  Stand up, Mike!'

Spike stood up, smiled, nodded, sat down again.  

'We're looking for several new members, and I'm not averse to hiring people from Port Justine.  We're offering training.  We need office staff, too.'

A young woman stood up.  'My name is Lizzie Reynolds. Are you hiring women police officers?' she asked.

'Yes,' said Hutch.  'We're an equal opportunity employer.  Bring your resume to the front office in the morning.  Any more questions?'

There was a moment of silence.  Then an elderly gentleman stood up.  'I'm George Keynes,' he said.  'We've heard rumours.'

'Rumours?' asked Hutch.  'Rumours about what?'

'Rumours that you're gay,' said Keynes.

'That's not a rumour,' said Hutch.  'It's true.  I am gay.'

A long silence.  

'Is that why you left LA?' asked Keynes.

'Nope.  I left LA for the reasons I stated.  My being gay had nothing to do with it, and has nothing to do with how I do my job.  If you have concerns about how I do my job, ask me anything you want, and I'll answer.  If you have concerns about my being gay, ask me anything you want, and I'll see if I can answer.  But my private life is my own.'

'The only concern I have, is if you're interested in boys,' said Keynes.  

'No,' said Hutch.  'I'm not.  I'm in a steady relationship with another man, and he's the only person I'm interested in.'

'Your partner?' asked Keynes.  'That's what the rumours say.'

'That's right,' said Hutch.  'David Starsky.  He's here with me now.'

Starsky stood up, smiled and nodded, just like Spike.  Sat down again. Just like Spike.

'Fair enough,' said Keynes.  'You seem like an honest man, not hiding anything.  That's better than someone pretending to be normal, and running after little boys in secret.'

There was a murmur of consent all over the room.

'We had a minister here, in the Baptist church,' Sarah Verne spoke up. 'He was married. Had two kids.  Was always talking about sin, and how the homosexuals were going to Hell.  Anita Bryant was a saint, to hear him.  And all the time, he was molesting little boys in the choir stalls.'

'You won't have that problem with me,' said Hutch.  'I'm not hiding anything, like Mr. Keynes said.  But my life with David Starsky is private.  It's our business, and no one else's.'

'Fair enough,' said Sarah Verne.

*****************************

'Whew!' said Starsky.  'That wasn't as bad as I thought it might be for a moment there.  When that old guy got up and asked about the rumours, my heart was in my mouth.  But it seems we have the elders of the tribe on our side.'

'Yeah,' said Hutch.  'My head hurts.'

'Poor baby,' said Starsky.  'We're over the worst now.  Why don't you have a nap?  You've been working your butt off for the last week, with the move, and setting up the department.  Let Spike hold down the fort for tonight.'

'Sounds good,' said Hutch.  'I'll have a nap. Why don't you go try making babies with Judy?'

'Hutch!'

'Quit being so shy about it.  Judy told me her temperature was just right.  I can manage without you for a few hours.  I promise, Starsky.  I'm not worried.'

'Okay.  If you say so.  Baby making time.'

'Go get 'em, Tiger,' said Hutch.  

If only it were that easy, thought Starsky, as he ambled down the hallway to Judy's rooms.  Hutch and his sister were certain it would all work out, but it was Starsky who was in the middle.  It was Starsky who had the most power to hurt the ones he cared about.  And there were so many ways he could do just that. The responsibility was daunting.

Judy was in her bedroom, bustling about emptying suitcases.  Frilly, feminine underwear and negligees were draped over every available surface.  Starsky had almost forgotten what bras and panties looked like.  It was a nostalgic experience, he thought.  

Judy looked up at his chuckle, and blushed.  'Oh, hi,' she said.  'Sorry about the mess.  I guess I'm nesting.'

'Nesting.  Yes.  I could come back, but Hutch said you told him….'

'Told him my temperature was just right.  That sounds so clinical.  Like we're a chemistry experiment, or something.'

'I don't think of you as a chemistry experiment,' said Starsky.  'Or a baby making machine.'  He sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by Judy's silky underwear and nightgowns.  'When I said I didn't want to start a romance, I didn't mean I wanted this to be mechanical, and cold.  I'm not in love with you, and I can't ever be in love with you.  I love your brother.'

'I know,' said Judy.  'I love him, too.'

'What I can give you, is friendship and respect.  And the kind of love a man should have for the woman who's the mother of his children.  If that's okay with you.'

'It's more than okay,' said Judy.  'Let me make more room here.'  She tossed the frilly things onto a chair. She was blushing again.  

'You're a beautiful woman, and most men would envy what you're offering me.  Don't ever think I'll treat that lightly.'

'I won't think that,' said Judy.  'Do you want me to get undressed?'

'It's the usual way people have sex,' said Starsky.  'But if you feel uncomfortable….'

'No, no. Not uncomfortable.  I've just never done it quite this way before.  You know, to get pregnant.  I was always trying to avoid it.'

'Me too,' said Starsky.  'So we're both virgins, in that way.  Here.  I'll get naked first.  You give me the once over.  See if you approve.'  He stood up, and pulled off his clothes, tossing them on the chair with Judy's underwear.  He turned around, letting Judy have a good look.  'Well,' he said.  'What do you think?'

'I think my brother's a lucky man,' she said.  

She undid her blouse, revealing lovely breasts.  Her golden hair tumbled over her naked shoulders.  She looked both like Hutch, and unlike him.  If there had been any hint of an obvious attempt to seduce him, Starsky might have been angry.  He might have changed his mind.  But the genuine hint of shyness and innocence in her demeanor roused all his protective instincts.  Judy was like her brother.  The real thing.  Now I have two people to love and protect, thought Starsky.  I'm the lucky man.

He opened his arms, and she came to him.  He picked her up -- something he could barely do with Hutch in an emergency -- and laid her down upon her bed.  He covered her protectively with his body, as if to shelter her from a storm.  

'Don't worry,' he said.  'It will be all right.'

****************************

Hutch wasn't in their new, shared bedroom.  Starsky found him sitting in the courtyard, looking out over the lights of the little town below.  He put his arms around Hutch from behind, and leaned against his strong back.  'Did you have enough sleep?' he whispered.  'Headache gone?'

'Yes.  I just needed some fresh air,' said Hutch.  'You okay?'

'I'm fine.  Judy's fine.  She's having a nap, now.  I love you.'

'That's good,' said Hutch.

'I love Judy, too.  Not like I love you, but….'

'That's good,' said Hutch, again.  'One thing that troubled me about your plans to have a child, was the thought of the mother being a stranger to us.  Someone you didn't even really like.  The idea is so cold, and mechanical.  Children need parents who love each other.'

'Judy and I care about each other, Hutch.  Everything went well between us. I wanted you to know that.  But you have nothing to worry about.  And don't say "that's good" again.  Come on.  Let's go to bed.'

Hutch chuckled.  'Haven't you just had enough?' he asked.

'Probably,' Starsky admitted.  'But I can still make you happy.  You're the person I'm going to be living with the rest of my life, so I gotta keep you happy.'

'Am I?' asked Hutch, turning to look into his eyes.  'The rest of your life?'

'Yeah, Dummy.  The rest of my life.  Forever.  Whichever comes first.'

He pulled Hutch's head down, and pressed his open mouth against his lover's.  Hutch gasped a little and clung to him tightly.  

Starsky could feel his own desire stirring.  His cock wasn't capable of cooperating this soon after having a workout, but the need was still there.  Nothing had changed.  

'You see?' he whispered.  'We're good.  We're safe.  And in a while, you'll have a new little niece or nephew to love.  A Starsky and a Hutchinson, all rolled up in one.  So, you can relax now.'

'My God!' said Hutch.  'It just hit me.  A Starsky and a Hutchinson, in one poor little baby.  Will it have your looks, and Judy's brains?  Or the other way around?  Which is worse?'

'The worst would be if it had your looks and brains,' said Starsky.  'Come on.  Let's get some sleep.  Once the baby comes, who knows how much time we'll have for it.'

'You have to make the baby first,' Hutch pointed out, as they went inside.

'Yeah, but we got a good start on that,' said Starsky.  'Judy's temperature was just right.'  

'Now it's up to the little sperm, making a run for the egg,' said Hutch.  

He was laughing, and Starsky was both surprised and relieved to see that he looked quite happy about the idea.

The sky hadn't fallen, or any tears yet, either.  Not many, at least.

So far, all was well.

*** The End ***

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