*******
I'm so tired but I can't sleep
 Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
  It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
   We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard
 
*******.
 
Starsky hung up the phone.  Hutch sounded tired.  Well, he was pretty tired himself but still feeling too wound up to go to
sleep, no matter what he'd told his partner.  Deciding that maybe he'd read for awhile, he turned off most of the lights in
the room, leaving only the light by the couch on.  He'd been reading a new novel he'd bought at the bookstore a few days
before, but wasn't sure if he really liked it or not.  Picking it up from the coffee table, he stretched out on the couch and
started to read.  The next thing he knew the phone was ringing beside his ear.
 
Almost falling off the couch trying to catch it before whomever was on the other end hung up, Starsky grabbed the
receiver only to hear silence then a click.  "Damn wrong numbers."  He muttered.  Sitting up he looked at his watch and
was surprised to see it was past midnight.  Shaking his head at himself for falling asleep like that, he headed for the
bedroom.  In the back of his mind, he was aware of the quiet, how dark it seemed in the apartment with only the one light
on.  But the front of his mind was thinking about maybe taking a little snack to bed with him, then decided he was really
too tired to enjoy it.  He had almost reached his bedroom door when a banging noise outside caught his attention.
Changing directions, he realized he'd forgotten to close the deck door that he'd left ajar to let in some air.  He was glad
he still had the blue pullover on, the spring night air was definitely cool.
 
Remembering that there had been a car stolen from Mr. Ferguson down the street earlier in the week, he stepped out
onto the deck to check on the noise.  It was too dark below to see much, <damn, that light must have burnt out again.> he
decided to go down and investigate.  After all, he sure didn't want his car stolen, especially with all the police equipment
inside.  The paperwork alone would keep him off the street for at least two days, to say nothing about losing his precious
Torino.
 
Grabbing up his gun and keys, Starsky opened the outside door as quietly as he could.  The landing was dark too, which
surprised him a bit.  He was sure he'd just changed that bulb last week.  <God, it's dark out here.  Can't see a damn
thing.  I wonder if I can get a refund on those lightbulbs?>  Gun in one hand, he felt his way down the stairs.  He paused
for a moment, listening.  Whatever the sound was, it had stopped.  He walked around the Torino, checking things out and
had just circled round to the back when a figure stepped out of the shadows.  Starsky lifted the gun a fraction, but relaxed
when he recognized the uniform the man was wearing, then the face.  He couldn't remember the name, but he knew he'd
seen him around the station.  Starsky tucked the gun into his waistband and leaned against his car's back fender.
 
"Hi, Sergeant Starsky."  His fellow officer said, smiling a big smile.  Starsky smiled back and was about to ask him what he
was doing there when the man stopped inches away.  "How's your partner?"  The question and the sudden impact on the
side of his head were simultaneous.  Trying to remain conscious, Starsky found himself on his knees.  He tried to reach
for his gun but a hand batted his away.  "Now, now, Sergeant, none of that.  I'll just take care of this and we'll need your
keys too."  The hand patted his pockets and, finding his keys, reached in his front pocket, and pulled them out.  Starsky
shook his head, hoping to clear it, and instantly regretted it.  Feeling himself start to fall forward, he grabbed for the
Torino's bumper and held on.
 
He attempted to track the other man's movements, but the blinding pain in his head made coherent thought impossible.
He thought he heard the trunk open, then some other sounds as things were moved around inside.  Suddenly the hands
were back, pulling at his arms.  He struggled; trying to resist as handcuffs shackled his wrists.  Dragged to his feet,
nausea further disoriented him when pushed to one side, he felt himself falling.  His head hit something hard and he
almost blacked-out completely.  Realizing he was in the Torino's trunk, he fought to stay awake, but the darkness was
winning.  His last clear thought was of Hutch.  And how his dying would hurt his partner.  He said good-bye to him in his
mind, fully expecting that he was about to die.
 
*****
 
Starsky had grown quiet, seemingly drained by his reliving the kidnapping.  Hutch held him, his own heart beating much
too fast.  For a time, they both sat quietly gathering strength from each other.  Starsky was the first to break the silence.
 
"I still don't remember much after that.  I think I remember being dragged up some stairs where there were other people
around, but I couldn't seem to get any words out to ask for help.  Everything was all fuzzy and the walls kept fading in and
out.  It's hard to describe."  He sighed and turned his head slightly so that his cheek lay against Hutch's chest.  Hutch
instinctively pulled him a little closer, trying to share his warmth with his still shaking partner.  "The next thing I remember
is being tied to that bed, not being able to move.  He used handcuffs to hold me.  The bed was one of those old
fashioned ones with the metal rails, you know the kind."  Hutch nodded against his head.  "He put them through the railing
and I couldn't move more than a few inches either way.  It was worse when he tied my legs down, too."
 
This time it was Hutch who sighed.  It hurt to think of his partner trussed up like some animal, unable even to turn over.
Drugged, neglected, and obviously beaten at times, it was no wonder that his mind had tried to shield him from the
memory of those weeks.  It was especially sad that it had also hidden the one thing that might have given him comfort.
Hutch's love for him.
 
Wanting nothing more than to draw all that pain and sorrow from Starsky, he laid his cheek on top of his partner's head.
Turned his face just enough that he could place a tiny kiss on top of the shorn curls.  Starsky sighed at the touch, the
sigh having a different registry this time.  Not one of grief and pain, but one of contentment.
 
Starsky worked one arm loose from the enveloping blanket and laid it on Hutch's thigh, his thumb working a small trail
back and forth.  He bent his head a bit and watched that thumb.  "I know he was shooting me up with something.  The first
time I was aware enough to notice, I panicked.  I thought it was heroin or something.  All I could think of was what Forest's
men did to you and that I'd sooner die than go through that again.  Or put you through it.  Then I realized it was some
kind of sedative 'cause I sure didn't get any high out of it.  I think he knew exactly what he was doing with that stuff.  The
times I can remember, I was just conscious enough to know what was going on, but not enough to do anything."  He
shifted again, his hand stilling.  Starsky lifted his head a bit but didn't pull away from his comfortable spot on Hutch's
chest.
 
"I do remember waking up once.  He kept me blindfolded and gagged when he wasn't around.  He was pretty good about
timing the doses so he was there when I woke up.  Anyway, this time he wasn't.  I couldn't see, couldn't move, and could
hardly breathe because of that stupid gag.  I lay there for a long time, thinking about things.  About us."
 
Starsky was quiet for a few minutes.  Hutch could feel him breathing, calmer now, and that thumb had started up its
movement again.  He wondered if things would ever be the same for his partner again.  What he had gone through was
prisoner of war stuff, torture, and deprivation, near starvation.  He knew of men that had come back from Nam broken,
minds ruined forever.  He'd never seen Starsky so vulnerable, so quiet.  Even after Terry's death, in the depths of his
grief for her, he'd been strong.  Now it was as if something intrinsic to Starsky's personality was gone, stripped away by
his experience, leaving a gaping wound where it used to be.  He fervently hoped he would be able to find that something
and help Starsky reclaim it.  For Starsky's sake, but also for his own, because he was afraid what was missing was the
thing that made them, *them*.  The 'me and thee' of their lives together.
 
Starsky sat up, leaving his hand on Hutch's thigh.  Looking into his friend's eyes he smiled, a thin, sad little smile, but a
smile nonetheless.  "The one thing that kept me going, the first while anyway, was knowing that you'd be out there looking
for me.  I hated to think about what you were going through, but at least I could count on you not giving up.  It was only at
the end, after he kept telling me that you'd stopped, that I gave up.  I think that if he hadn't of moved me, put me into that
mental hospital, I would have died, simply from that."
 
"Starsky, I never gave up.  I promise you.  I knew that you were out there somewhere and I was going to find you if it took
the rest of my life."  The pain in his voice prompted Starsky to raise his hand from Hutch's thigh to his face.  Hold the palm
of his hand against the pale cheek for a moment then let it return to its original place.
 
"I know that, now.  But then, I was so sick from the drugs, so cold, and tired, that I couldn't think straight anymore.  I think
that my memory was already shutting down.  I was finding it harder and harder to remember things.  The few times I was
anywhere near lucid, I'd try to remember good things, hopeful things, to keep me sane, but I couldn't.  Then one time, not
long before I was moved, I couldn't remember your voice.  I couldn't hear you in my mind.  All I could hear was his voice,
saying ugly things about you.  About us.  I felt like I was going insane and I wanted to.  Just so everything would stop
hurting.  Because if I couldn't remember you, us, what good was it?"
 
Starsky was almost crying.  Hutch hated seeing him like this.  Starsky never cried, it just wasn't in him.  This person who
was falling apart in front of him wasn't his strong, resourceful partner.  If someone gave him half a chance, he would have
gleefully brought Gibbons back from the dead, just so he could kill him all over again.  Only this time it wouldn't be a quick
bullet from another officer's gun.  It would be his bare hands.
 
Hutch reached down and picked up the hand on his thigh.  Holding it against his heart, he looked Starsky in the eyes.
"Starsky, I'm here.  You're here.  It's all over.  That man is dead and whatever he did to you, said to you, is past.  I'm not
going anywhere and I'm not going to let you go anywhere either.  You’re my partner, my best friend, the person I love the
most in the whole world.  Whatever memories he took away, I'll help you find.  I promise you that."
 
Starsky looked at those clasped hands against Hutch's chest, then down at the ones still held against his.  "I remember
this hand," he whispered.  "This hand in mine.  Your skin against mine.  Warm.  Strong.  Holding me."  He squeezed the
one against his chest.  "That's one of the final things I did remember, before I forgot everything.  You holding me.  It was
the one thing I wished for more than even being free.  To have you hold me one more time before I died.  It would even
have made dying easier, just to have you to hold on to."
 
He threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling.  "God, Hutch, you have no idea how much I hated that man.  The way
he taunted me about us.  Said horrible nasty things.  He'd go on and on about how his father had been a real cop and we
were fouling the very air he had breathed because of what we are.  That we didn't deserve to be cops, that we should be
kicked out of the force.  How, after he killed me, he was going to reveal the truth about you and me so that you'd be
forced out in shame.  That he'd take away everything from you to make you pay.  Your job, your dignity, your lover.
Although I still can't figure out how he found out about us."
 
Starsky stopped speaking when he heard Hutch gasp.  Pulling his eyes from his focal point on the ceiling, he looked into
the astonished face of his partner.  Surprised to see Hutch sitting, staring at him with his mouth hanging open in scare.
 
***
 
Hutch was in shock.  Starsky's final words, 'how he found out about us.' said in the same sentence as 'lover' floored him.
The way Starsky looked at him, he knew that he was as bewildered by Hutch's reaction as he was by Starsky's stating that
they were lovers.
 
"Hutch?  What's wrong?  What did I say?"  Starsky leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
 
"We, uh, I mean."  <Oh God.>  Starsk, what makes you?  Starsky, we're not lovers."  There.  He said it.  Even though for
one brief moment he was sorely tempted to allow the lie to exist.
 
Starsky's face went blank.  He looked down at the two pairs of clasped hands, then back into Hutch's eyes.  Slowly
shaking his head 'no' he pulled both of his hands free, almost tumbling himself over the arm of the couch with the force of
it.  "No, Hutch.  Why are you saying that?  We have to be.  It's the one thing I remembered.  Last night, when you came
into the bedroom.  I saw you standing there with the light behind you and I thought, I thought.  Oh God."  Starsky threw off
the blanket and hurled himself from the couch to start pacing the floor.
 
Hutch watched as he worked his way from the bedroom door to the kitchen and back.  He walked staring at the floor,
muttering and shaking his head.  Hutch was afraid that his denial had pushed Starsky over that final cliff edge.  Rising, he
moved to intercept Starsky on his way back from the direction of the kitchen.  Starsky didn't see him until he was almost
on top of him.  Stopping short, he threw his head up to reveal grief-stricken eyes.  Eyes that also looked panicked.
 
"Why are you lying to me, Hutch?  I remember us together.  It's all I thought about those last couple of days before
everything shut down.  I love you, damn it!  Why do you want to deny it now?  I thought you loved me, too."  He turned
away, his body folding in on itself in utter rejection.  Hutch grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn back.
 
"I'm not lying, Starsk.  We've never been lovers.  Your mind must have put things that Gibbons said together and planted
the suggestion."  Starsky's eyes searched his face, visibly trying to believe.  "Starsky."  Starsky turned his head away,
closing his eyes.  Hutch took hold of his chin and forced his head to turn back, but he stubbornly kept his eyes shut.
"Starsky, listen to me.  I do love you.  I told you that you're the most important person in the world to me.  That's the truth.
I love you.  We've just never been lovers."
 
Eyes still closed, Starsky whispered, "Why, then, do I remember it otherwise?  Why do I want you so bad I can taste it?  Is
it all a lie, then?  Don't I really love you?"  He finally opened his eyes.  Stared into Hutch's.  "Is everything I think I
remember, about us, about our lives, all lies?  Am I totally crazy?  Answer me that, damn you."
 
Hutch dropped both his hands, the one on Starsky's shoulder and the one on his chin.  Now it was his turn to look away,
anywhere but at his friend's anguished face.  "No, Starsky, you're not crazy.  And not everything you remember is a lie.
You and I.  It's complicated Starsk.  We've been so close for so long, through so much together, I think the lines have
blurred.  Maybe, deep down in your subconscious, you've been thinking about us being that way with each other.  And,
well, maybe so have I."  He could feel Starsky's stare, but he couldn't bring himself to face it.
 
Suddenly it hurt to be this close to Starsky; he needed some space between them.  Moving away, trying to ignore the
hand that half raised to stop him, he went towards the front door.  He knew that Starsky was still standing rooted to the
spot halfway between the kitchen and the bedroom.  Watching him go.  Hutch stopped with his hand on the doorknob,
hoping to hear Starsky tell him not to leave.  Dreading it.  But no call came, not a sound from behind him.  He pulled the
door open and left.  Not looking back.
 
*****
 
Within half an hour, Huggy was at Starsky's door.  To be more exact, inside his living room.  Starsky was lying on his side
on the couch, covered with the blanket.  Trying to control his shaking.  He wasn't sure whether he was actually cold or
whether it was a reaction to Hutch's leaving.  Either way, he felt more miserable than since he woke in the mental
hospital.  Deserted, lonely, scared to death.
 
When the key turned in the lock, he couldn't bring himself to look to see if it really was Hutch.  He didn't know if he cared.
He listened to the rapid footfalls approaching and flinched when a cool palm touched his forehead.
 
"God, Starsky, what's going on?"  It took Starsky a moment to place the voice.  Huggy was here, his friend.  Maybe the
only friend he had left.
 
"Nothing, Huggy, nothing at all."  He peered up at Huggy through slitted eyes.  "What are you doing here?"
 
"Got this call from Hutch that you needed me.  That's all he said, 'Huggy, Starsky needs you.'  Then hung up.  Why isn't
he here?  I didn't think he'd be able to stay away from you for more than five minutes at a time."  Huggy crouched down in
front of Starsky so he wouldn't have to strain his neck to look at him.
 
"I said something to him that he couldn't deal with.  So he left."  Starsky sighed.  "It doesn’t matter, Huggy.  It doesn’t
matter at all."  He rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes.  "I don't want to talk about it.  I don't think I can."
 
"Starsky, you're my friend.  Anything you tell me is between us.  Has been that way for a very long time.  Now come on
man, tell the Bear what the hell's going on."  Huggy laid his hand on Starsky's arm, trying to convey his sincerity.
 
Starsky knew that Huggy meant what he was saying.  He could remember that much.  That Huggy was a true friend to
both him and Hutch.  That he'd gone out on a limb for them many times over the years.  That if he couldn't trust Huggy to
understand then there was really no one else.  Especially about this.  He sat up, huddling under the blanket.  Pulled his
knees up and wrapped his arms around them.  Looked Huggy in the eye and just said it.
 
"I remembered that Hutch and I are lovers."  Waited for a reaction.  All he got was a raised eyebrow.  "Apparently I was
wrong."  The other eyebrow went up.  Starsky was starting to get a little angry at Huggy's stoic take on what to him was an
earth shattering confession.  "Well, aren’t you going to say anything?  I just told you that I was under the impression that
me and my partner were lovers and you sit looking like I told you the sky was blue.  Come on, Huggy, aren't you a little bit
shocked?"
 
Huggy smiled that enigmatic smile of his.  "Starsky, I don't know if you and Hutch were, are or ever will be, lovers.  But the
idea doesn’t surprise nor shock me.  I've seen the way you two act towards each other, maybe more than anyone else
has.  It's obvious to me; anyway, that you guys love each other far more than just as friends.  If you are lovers, great, go
for it.  If you aren't, then maybe you should be.  I know it would make you happy.  It would make Hutch happy.  Isn't that
what's important?  Not what I or anyone else thinks.  But you still haven't told me why Hutch left you alone."
 
By this time Huggy was sitting on the couch, leaning against the opposite arm, watching his friend's face reflect his
thoughts.
 
Starsky put his head down on his upraised knees, and rolling his head back and forth tried to answer.  "I don't really
know, Hug.  Last night, after you guys left and I was alone here I got kinda freaked out.  I guess my subconscious was
associating the way the apartment was last night to the night I was kidnapped.  By the time Hutch got back I was a total
mess, laying on the bed, scared to death.  When he walked into the room, I thought for a moment it was that man, ah,
Gibbons.  But then I saw that it was Hutch and something just clicked.  I knew who he was and remembered, well I thought
I remembered, everything about us.  Him and me, us as partners, friends.  Our lives together all these years.  It was such
a relief, you have no idea.  Not that I remembered everything else, just him."
 
He sighed again, then lifted his head.  Looking straight ahead, he smiled forlornly.  "I asked him to sleep in the bed with
me because I didn't want to be alone.  And he did.  Some stuff happened, nothing sexual, but it was nice.  Anyway, I woke
up once towards morning, and he was holding me, wrapped around me like he was afraid I'd disappear again.  It felt so
right, like we'd been doing that for years.  I have these memories of us together, you know, and the way he held me, it just
added to that."
 
Starsky pulled the blanket a little closer, leaning back to look at Huggy.  "This morning he got up before I did and when I
found him out on the deck I could tell he had a hard on.  And the way he was smiling, I naturally figured he was thinking
about us.  But he never did anything, never said anything about us.  So I figure he's holding back until I'm better,
remember more."
 
Huggy nodded.  "Sounds like Hutch.  He's always putting others, especially you, before his own needs.  One of his
biggest faults, sometimes."
 
Starsky smiled.  "Yeah, I thought I remembered that.  So I just let him have his way but I keep flirting with him, hoping he'll
get the point.  Which he didn't.  Then we're in the kitchen, talking about what we're going to do today when he mentions
the Torino and the whole thing about the kidnapping comes rushing back."  He shivered.  "I won't go into all that.  I still
feel sick when I think about it.  But I was telling him some of the things Gibbons said to me, and I told him that Gibbons
planned to kill me, then expose Hutch and his relationship with me.  His lover.  And I said something about wondering how
he found out."
 
"Oh Starsky.  If you haven't been, it's no wonder he flipped."  Huggy shook his head.
 
"Yeah, I guess.  Anyway, I accused him of lying to me about our having been lovers.  About his loving me.  I told him I
wanted him.  Then he said that he did love me.  But that it was just my subconscious inventing all this because maybe
deep down it's something I'd been thinking about."  Starsky laid his head back down on his knees.  "Then he said that
maybe he'd been thinking about it too.  That's when he left.  Didn't say a word to me.  Just went out the door.  What am I
going to do Huggy?  Even if I get my memory back, the damage is done.  He's never going to want to be around me
again."  Huggy was startled to hear Starsky whimper.
 
"God, if this is the way it's going to be, why didn't I die back there?  It would have been so much easier."
 
*****
 
Huggy sat back and thought for a moment, trying to figure a way out.  His friends, the people he trusted most in the world,
were hurting and it looked like it was going to be up to him to fix things.  He would never care if these two were doing it or
not.  It really wasn't any of his business.  Plus, it made no difference to him if they were.  He loved them both for who they
were, just as they loved him.  For the good, kind hearts within.  Nothing else mattered.
 
"Starsky, listen to me.  Hutch loves you.  I know that and I know how much.  You didn't see him when you were missing.
He was a total mess.  Didn't eat, didn't sleep.  Hell, he didn't even change his clothes unless I told him too.  There was a
period when I was afraid to leave him alone.  All he thought about was you, finding you.  Then we were led to this body
that we thought was you.  Even had your clothes on.  I've never seen Hutch like that.  I was afraid for him, Starsk.  If it
wasn't for the fact he was determined to find the guy who nabbed you, I think he might have killed himself.  I really do.
Then after we found out it wasn't you, he got better for awhile, until he, and Dobey figured out that it was Gibbons.  Then
Gibbons got killed and we didn't know if we'd ever find you.  I made sure he wasn't out of my sight or Dobey's for a
minute."
 
Huggy laid his hand on Starsky's bent shoulder.  "You don't act like that about someone who's *only* your friend, Starsk.
You act that way about someone you love.  Someone who means more than life itself.  Someone you're *in love* with."
Starsky turned his head so he could see Huggy's face.  "That big blond idiot loves you, Starsky and I think that scares
him now.  Here you are in the flesh; so to speak, stating that you love him and that you believe the two of you are lovers.
That's got to be a shock, even if it's what he wants.  And I think it is."
 
Starsky lifted his head, hope a small flame in his eyes.  "So what do I do now, Huggy?  I don't even know where he's gone,
or if he'll be back.  What the hell do I do?"
 
"What do you do, my man?  You go looking for him.  And ol' Huggy Bear knows just where to look.  C'mon, get up.  You
and me are going on a Hutch hunt.
 
*****
 
Hutch sat in the cold lonely remnants of his private little jungle.  He smiled grimly to himself.  That's what Starsky always
called it, his jungle.  <God, Starsky.  What do I do now?  Do I love you the way you think I do?  Can I?  All this time and I
never knew you felt that way.  Hell, I didn't know I did.>
 
He toyed with a leaf on the dracaena that Starsky had given him, one of the few plants to survive the force of his grief.
<What do I call that, Starsk?  A tantrum?  Break-down?  Or me simply wanting something I never knew I wanted until it
was taken away.>
 
Looking up through the little skylight he and Starsky had installed, he wondered what was to become of him now.  In the
space of three weeks, his whole world was gone.  Picked up, shaken, and tossed to the ground to lie shattered at his
feet.  The image that he held of himself was gone, and nothing seemed to have replaced it.  Here he sat, a man in love
with his best friend, another man.  And apparently, that man loved him in return.  If this is what he had dreamed about
why was it so hard to accept now?  Had it just been a fantasy, something that he had clung to because the alternative
was too frightening?  That it was easier to crave a lover than fear the death of his friend.
 
The crash of his front door opening interrupted his circling thoughts.  Startled out of his lethargy, he jumped to his feet,
wishing he hadn't left his gun by the door.  Deciding that a strong offense was better than a strong defense, he charged
out of the greenhouse only to stop short when he saw whom the intruders were.
 
There stood the object of his dilemma and Huggy Bear.  A very irate Huggy Bear.  Starsky stood slightly to one side of
Huggy, looking as if he wished he could be anywhere but here.  Huggy glared at Hutch, then at Starsky, finally poking the
latter with a long finger.
 
"Well, you just goin' stand there or are you goin' talk to him?  Tell him what you told me.  If he's half as smart as he thinks
he is, he'll know what to do."
 
"I, uh.  I can't Huggy.  He doesn’t feel that way about me.  How the hell can I spill my guts to him and expect everything to
be all right again.  It just isn't going to happen."  Starsky turned bleak eyes at Hutch requesting something.  A sign, a
gesture, something to give him hope.
 
Huggy turned on Hutch.  "Well, Blondie.  What have you got to say for yourself?  You run away from your partner.
Someone you profess to love.  Who loves you, you idiot.  He's here now, wanting you.  Say something, damn it."
 
Hutch couldn't find his voice.  The fear of change, of nothing ever being the same again had stolen it.  He could only
stand and blink at the two in front of him.
 
Once again, Huggy glared at one then the other.  Waiting for one of them to make a move.  Finally, totally exasperated
he exploded.  "Oh, for God's sake!  I've never seen two stupider white men in my life."
 
Hutch had never seen Huggy angry before.  Upset; mad as hell, yes.  But the level of this anger was so deep that he took
a step back, afraid of him for the first time since he'd known the man.
 
Grabbing Starsky by the arm, Huggy hauled the startled man behind him.  Advanced on Hutch like an avenging angel.
Hutch kept backing away until he ran into the dining table.  Huggy thrust Starsky at him hard enough to make him
stumble.  Hutch instinctively reached out to keep him from falling and found himself with him in his arms.
 
The two of them stared at each other in shock.  Then something in Starsky's eyes shifted and a soft smile lit his face.
"Hey, buddy."
 
For a moment Hutch resisted, then an answering smile found his lips.  "Hey, yourself."
 
The two of them didn't notice the door closing behind the satisfied Huggy.  Didn't notice much of anything except each
other.  Starsky circled Hutch's waist with his arms; Hutch pulled him a little closer.  Starsky laid his cheek against Hutch's
chest, against his heart.  Hutch turned his head a bit so he could lay his own cheek on top of his partner's head.  They
stood arms around each other content for the moment to be together.
 
*******
Remember the good times that we had?
 I let them slip away from us when things got bad
  How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun
   Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one
 
*******
 
The sunlight streaming through the kitchen window was warm on his back.  The body clasped in his arms was even
warmer.  Hutch sighed.  God alone knew how much he wanted this person.  The one being in the entire world who knew
all his virtues and all his faults and loved him in spite and maybe because of them.  The one person he knew he couldn't
live without.  The only person he loved.
 
Hating to break the spell that held the two of them, he knew they couldn't stand like this forever.  Pulling back a bit, he
looked into the blue eyes of his partner.
 
"I think you and I have to talk, Starsk."
 
Starsky closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to gaze unafraid into Hutch's.  "Yeah, I guess so."  Releasing
Hutch from his encircling arms, he pulled out one of the chairs from under the table.  Turned it around and sat on it
backwards, arms leaning on the back.  Hutch couldn't help but smile at this typical Starsky pose.
 
Pulling out the chair next to it, Hutch sat down.  Close enough to touch, but not touching.  Starsky rested his chin on his
crossed arms and gazed at him expectantly.  Hutch reddened a bit under that scrutiny, not sure where to start.
 
Starsky took pity on him.  "You want that I go first, Hutch?"
 
Hutch looked down at his hands on the table.  His right was fiddling with a bottle cap he'd left there an eon ago.  His left
was lying flat, halfway across the table to Starsky, as if it had a mind of its own.  Reaching for what would make him
complete.  He nodded, suddenly unable to look into those clear blue eyes that saw more than they should.
 
"Okay.  First off, I'm sorry."  Starsky raised his hand when Hutch started to object.  "Yeah, I know, but hear me out.  I'm
sorry that my mind is so wonky that it's making me think things that aren’t true.  Like you and me being lovers."  Starsky
had the grace to look embarrassed.  "I guess you were right when you said it was my subconscious planting memories
because it was something that I'd been thinking about deep down."  He moved so that his forehead was lying on his arms,
not looking at Hutch.  "I don't know when it happened, exactly.  I mean, I've always loved you, you know that.  Even if I
never came out and said it.  But I guess it all changed after Terry died.  I realized that, while I loved her and would have
been very happy being married to her, it was you I couldn't live without.  God, Hutch, if anything ever happened to you, I'd
die.  Simple as that."  He sighed and raised his head.
 
"Like you said, somewhere the lines got blurred.  I stopped thinking of you as just my friend and started thinking of you as
my life.  When I thought I was goin' die, all I thought about was how much I'd miss you.  I wasn't afraid of dying for me, but
for you.  I couldn't bear the thought of you being alone.  I guess in amongst that fear, the desire was born.  And being
doped up all the time it knocked down some of the walls I'd built up around that thought and made it real for me."
 
Starsky unfolded his arms and reached out to grasp Hutch's questing hand.  "After you walked out, I got thinking more
about my so called memories and realized that they weren't real.  The more I thought about them, the fainter they got until
what my stupid twisted memory based them on came clear.  The time I was poisoned and you held me in that alley.  After
Terry died and you spent all your free time with me, keeping an eye on me.  Lots of others.  All things that my mind took
and added to."  He squeezed Hutch's hand a little tighter.  "But you know what Hutch?  Those memories of us together?
Even if they weren't accurate, they sure were beautiful."
 
Hutch looked up to stare into Starsky's eyes, seeking the truth of what he'd said.  Finding an entire world stretching deep
into that intense dark blue.  A world that desired him to come in and live.  At that moment, he felt as if he'd never
breathed before.
 
Starsky pulled his eyes away from the contact.  Looked down at their hands folded together on the tabletop.  "I know that
this whole idea is strange to you.  Hell, it's strange to me too.  I'll understand if you don't want what we have now to
change.  If all you ever want is this, I can live with that."  He looked back up at Hutch.  "The only thing I really want in this
life is to be your friend and you mine.  If nothing else ever happens between us, as long as we stay together, I'll be
happy.  Like I said, you're my life and if the only way I can keep you is to keep it platonic, then that's the way it'll have to
be.  Because without you, there isn't any life left.  There isn't any me left."
 
Hutch was surprised, if not shocked; to see tears in Starsky's eyes.  <I don't know what I've done to deserve his loving me
like this God, but thank you.>
 
"Starsky, I'm the one who should be apologizing.  I've been so stupid.  It wasn't until you were gone that I realized just how
much I love you too.  It took almost losing you forever for me to understand.  What we've always had together is special.
So special that I think I started to take it all for granted."  He swallowed, surprised to find his throat dry.  Still looking into
those blue eyes that once he feared he'd never see again, he tried to continue.  "Gibbons wanted to make me suffer for
his father's death.  For some reason, he always held me responsible, but that's not important now.  He killed at least two
men that looked enough like you that we would think at first that they were you.  The second one he buried up in
Topanga Canyon Park.  Even dressed the body in your clothes.  It was almost twenty-four hours before we knew it wasn't
you."  He swallowed again, this time his throat was tight from the unshed tears that memory brought.
 
Grasping Starsky's hand tighter as if he needed the reassurance he was really there, he continued.  "Starsk, those were
the longest twenty-four hours of my life.  I never really let myself believe that you were dead, but...  Oh, God, Starsk, it
hurt so much to think I'd never see you again.  Never hear one of your dumb jokes; see that stupid grin of yours.  Never
touch you.  I guess that's when I realized that, if I had it all to do over again, I'd want us to be as close as possible, in
every way possible."
 
He had to move, even if it meant letting go of the hand that had become a reprieve from the loneliness in his soul.
Pushing the chair back, he went to the sink to get a drink of water.  Glass in hand he stood staring out the window, back
to Starsky.  "I love you so damn much, it scares me.  I've never felt this way before about anyone or anything.  I never
wanted you to know.  I was too afraid you'd hate me for it.  After you came back, you were so lost, so, I don't know, not
you I guess, that I just couldn't bring myself to tell you.  I was afraid of losing you all over again."  He took a sip from his
glass.  "When you said that about us being lovers, it really threw me.  Not because it wasn't something I wanted but
because I wanted it.  God, Starsky, you have no idea how tempted I was to let you go on thinking that.  But I was too
afraid that once you got all your memories back you'd hate me for using you.  Because that's what it would have been.
Me using you for my own pleasure.  It would have been next door to rape and there's no way in hell I could have done
that to you."
 
He put the glass down before he dropped it.  His hands were suddenly without any strength.  His voice dropped almost to
a whisper.  "I don't know what to do, Starsk.  I'm so afraid that if we pursue this, it'll destroy us both.  Whatever it is that
makes us *us* will be gone and there'll be nothing left to take its place.  I don't think I could live with that, with losing you.
Not again.  Not forever."
 
So consumed by his doubt, Hutch didn't hear Starsky get off the chair and come to him.  It wasn't until that warm hand
once more placed itself on his back that he was aware of Starsky's closeness.  Turning to face him, he felt hope in the
smile on his partner's face.
 
"Hutch, nothing is ever going to change the way we are.  If we do or we don't, it won't make any difference.  The only thing
that could ever change us is us.  If we allow it.  And I for one don't plan on allowing it.  If you don't want to, to, well, to have
sex with me, that's fine.  But I want you to know that I do.  I want to make love with you, to you, for you.  For the rest of my
life.  But I sure ain't goin' to expect you to.  If you can't, you can't.  That's the way it'll be.  I can live with that.  The only
thing I can't live with is being without you as my friend.  I can wait.  I can wait forever if that's what you want.  As long as
you stay with me."  Starsky dropped his hand and walked out into the living room, Hutch watching him.
 
Hutch couldn't help but think of that morning, waking up with Starsky in his arms.  The feelings rushed back that he
experienced then.  The contentment, the peace, the desire.  Most especially the desire.  Suddenly he understood
everything that his partner was trying to tell him.  And realized that he felt exactly the same way.  He wanted to spend the
rest of his life loving this person who even now was willing to give him an out.
 
Starsky had stopped by the piano.  Pushed the keyboard cover up and was, almost silently, picking out the melody to
some song.  It took Hutch a minute to realize it was the one from the sheet music on the stand.  'How Can I Tell You'.  The
words echoed in his heart.
 
                                       I need to know you,
                                need to feel my arms around you,
                                    feel my arms around you,
                                    like a sea around a shore
                                   Each night and day I pray,
                                  in hope that I might find you,
                                 in hope that I might find you,
                                  because hearts can do no more
                                           do no more
 
Suddenly he knew what he had to do.  What his entire life, the life that began the day he'd met this man, he'd been
waiting to do.  The journey across the space between them was short, but had taken a lifetime to start.
Arriving, he placed his right hand on Starsky's right shoulder and leaned up against him for a moment, gathering
strength.  Starsky's hand stilled on the keyboard, then lifted to pull Hutch's hand across his chest.  They stood silently for
a space.  Then Hutch turned Starsky towards him, freeing his hand to lay it against Starsky's cheek.  Then lifted the other
hand to the other cheek.  Holding the face he knew better than his own between his two long-fingered hands.  Blue eyes
staring into blue eyes.  Searching for permission for what he was about to do.
 
The first kiss was tentative.  But lightening struck, the electricity streaming through both bodies transforming them.
Gasping in shock, they pulled away, then reached for each other again.  The second kiss was more assured, but no less
radiant.  Lips against lips, parting in hunger.  Drowning in each other.  Entire centuries passed by; whole worlds were
born, lived, and died before they could bear to part from each other.
 
Wondering if he remembered how to breathe, Hutch looked once again into those dark blue eyes to find the other half of
his soul staring back at him.  A crooked smile drifted across Starsky's face, echoing the one on his own.  Starsky's hand
reached up to trace Hutch's lips with his thumb.  "Wow.  Never would have guessed it would be like that."  His voice a
whisper, full of awe.  "To think it took us all this time to find out."
 
Hutch could feel the blush those words created rise up in his cheeks.  Starsky smiled a consoling smile and pulled Hutch's
head back for one more kiss.  This one was shorter, but sweeter for all of that.  Starsky's hand drifted down Hutch's back,
creating little tingles in its wake.  It came to rest somewhere in the vicinity of his hip, pulling them closer together.  Hutch's
hands made a journey of their own, one to the back of Starsky's head, supporting them as they explored each other's
mouths with their tongues.  His other hand also marked a trail of it's own down Starsky's back to reach a similar
destination.

They broke apart, gasping.  Neither sure whether from desire or lack of air.  Stood a hand's breadth apart and tried to
regain some semblance of control.  Starsky was the first to speak; his breath coming in short gulps as if he'd been
running a marathon.  "So, what do we do now?"
 
"Hey, you were the one with all the memories of us together.  You tell me."
 
"Nah, I'd rather show you."
 
Somehow they made it to Hutch's bedroom, undressed each other, and found the bed.  They had a bad couple of
minutes when Starsky tried to take off his sweater and couldn't bend his arm far enough.  Hutch stripped it from him in
one swift move and captured Starsky's lips when they appeared.  They toppled to the bed together, holding each other
as if they were afraid they'd wake up and it would all have been a beautiful dream.
 
Time flowed like water, like lava.  They came together in body, mind, and soul.  Their spirits rejoiced in what they
discovered in their communion.  That their bodies were a perfect match.  That what had seemed an unnatural concept
was in reality as natural as their hearts beating, their lungs breathing or souls loving.  It was forever.  It was over far too
soon.
 
Laying together afterwards, arms and legs entwined, they tried to make sense out of what had just occurred.  To come to
terms.
 
Starsky lay with Hutch's head on his shoulder, one hand rested on his stomach holding one of Hutch's hands.  The other
caressing Hutch's golden hair.  Hutch was lying partially on his side, one leg looped over one of his partner's.  His free
hand tracing the whorls in the hair on Starsky's chest.  Both of them quite content to just hang onto each other.
 
Hutch lifted up on one elbow so he could look into Starsky's eyes.  It made him smile to remember a similar position just
the evening before.  How naïve he had been.  How much he'd learned in the short space of less than a day.  He lowered
his head to plant a brief kiss on those lips he'd once only dreamed about kissing.
 
"What'cha thinking about, Hutch?  What's the smile for?"  Starsky stretched a bit, looking even more like a lazy cat than
usual.
 
"Thinking that this was something we should have done long ago.  That I never thought that I could love you more than I
already did.  That your eyes are the most incredible blue."  He laughed when Starsky squirmed at the last comment.
"That I never realized that I could feel this way about anyone.  That you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen both
inside and out.  And that I love you.  How's that for thinking?"
 
"I think, my dear Hutch, that you think entirely too much.  Now me, I know that I love you.  Always have, always will.  That
this is just a different way of showing you how much.  And that you're just a bit crazy, but that's one of the things I love
about ya, so I'm not going to worry about it."  He lifted Hutch's hand to his lips, gave it a tiny kiss, then licked the palm,
laughing when Hutch gasped.  "But one thing I do think is that I need to go to sleep for a bit.  That I want to sleep here in
your arms, wake up in your arms and keep repeating that for the rest of my life.  If you're agreeable.
 
All thinking stopped as Hutch showed Starsky how agreeable he was.  And then they drifted off to sleep to begin the cycle
that Starsky had proposed.
*******
 
Almost a month had passed since Starsky's return.  He finally saw his doctor who gave him a clean bill of health and
megadoses of vitamins, which Hutch found highly amusing.  Most of his memory was back except for parts of those three
weeks of captivity.  Hutch secretly thought that a blessing.  From what little Starsky did remember, Hutch knew he'd been
to hell and back and there was no reason for him to relive it.  The occasional nightmare that left him shaking in Hutch's
arms was bad enough.  They didn't need any more.
 
Hutch had Starsky's Torino thoroughly cleaned before he got it back.  The upholstery on the front seat came fairly clean
but they had to replace the carpet in the trunk.  Starsky still had trouble going into the trunk to retrieve anything.  But he
kidded himself through it, pretending it didn't matter.  He may have fooled most people, but not Hutch.
 
Starsky mourned the loss of his blue sweater, more because it really belonged to Hutch than anything else.  Except for
the pain it had caused his partner because it was on the body from the park.  The body that Gibbons tormented Hutch
with.  The body that was the real Michael Swartz.  Hutch, Starsky, Huggy, and Captain Dobey made sure that he received
a decent burial.  They all chipped in on a small headstone.  The partners went to the cemetery one Saturday and placed
flowers on the grave.  Hutch was so grateful he wasn't doing the same for his partner that he had a hard time letting
Starsky out of his sight for the rest of the day.  That night, after making slow, gentle love, they had fallen asleep in each
others arms and not let go until morning.
 
The only person who knew of the partners' expanded relationship was Huggy, and he would never say anything.  If Dobey
guessed, he never said anything either.  The partners were careful to conduct their lives as close to what was normal
before the abduction as they could.  They were well aware of the consequences if their secret leaked out to the wrong
people.
 
For the first week after Starsky was home, they stayed together at his place.  No one would have thought anything
unusual in that as Starsky was still weak from his ordeal and everyone knew Hutch was taking care of him.  The day
Starsky reported back to active duty, Hutch went home to his suddenly excruciatingly lonely apartment and Starsky
stayed in his.  They would stay at one or the other two or three times a week, just like before.  Only, instead of one of
them sleeping on the couch, they shared a bed.  And themselves.
 
One night, as they lay close together in Starsky's bed, Hutch was massaging his partner's shoulders.  The strain on
Starsky's bound arms had caused the old wound in his left shoulder to bother him again and Hutch's massages were the
only thing that seemed to help.  Hutch's hands rubbed up into Starsky's hairline.  His hair was growing back, his curls
almost as long as they were before Gibbons.  Hutch loved petting Starsky's hair.  He had missed those chocolate brown
curls and was most pleased that they were coming back so nicely.  Dropping a kiss on top of Starsky's head, he rubbed
his cheek against the soft hair and sighed.
 
"Starsk?"
 
"Hmm?"  Starsky was almost asleep, soothed by both the massage and his partner's presence.
 
"Starsk, do me a favor, will you?"
 
"Sure, Hutch, anything."
 
"Don't ever cut your hair anywhere near as short as this again.  Not that you don't look incredibly cute with it short, but I
like it long.  Promise me.  Okay?"
 
"Kay.  I'll let it grow until Dobey starts yelling.  Now will you shut up, turn off that light, and come here."
 
Hutch laughed and did as he was told.  And Starsky kept his promise and didn't cut his hair until Dobey starting yelling.
Which took a very long time.
 
*******
 
I Will Remember You
 
(Music and Lyrics by Sarah McLachlan, Seamus Egan, and Dave Merenda)
Originally featured on the motion picture soundtrack "The Brothers
McMullen" (Unforscene, 1995)
 
        I will remember you
        Will you remember me?
        Don't let your life pass you by
        Weep not for the memories
 
        Remember the good times that we had?
        I let them slip away from us when things got bad
        How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun
        Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one
 
        I will remember you
        Will you remember me?
        Don't let your life pass you by
        Weep not for the memories
 
        I'm so tired but I can't sleep
        Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
        It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
        We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard
 
        But I will remember you
        Will you remember me?
        Don't let your life pass you by
        Weep not for the memories
 
        I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose
        Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
        Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
        You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light
 
        And I will remember you
        Will you remember me?
        Don't let your life pass you by
        Weep not for the memories
 
        And I will remember you
        Will you remember me?
        Don't let your life pass you by
        Weep not for the memories
        Weep not for the memories
 
*******
(Music and Lyrics by Cat Stevens.  From the LP 'Teaser and the Firecat"
How Can I Tell You
How can I tell you that I love you, I love you
but I can't think of right words to say
I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you
I'm always thinking of you, but my words
just blow away, just blow away
 
It always ends up to one thing, honey
and I can't think of right words to say
Wherever I am girl, I'm always walking with you
I'm always walking with you, but I look and you're not there
Whoever I'm with, I'm always, always talking to you
I'm always talking to you, and I'm sad that
you can't hear, sad that you can't hear
 
It always ends up to one thing, honey,
when I look and you're not there
 
I need to know you, need to feel my arms around you
feel my arms around you, like a sea around a shore
and -- each night and day I pray, in hope
that I might find you, in hope that I might
find you, because heart's can do no more
It always ends up to one thing honey, still I kneel upon the floor
How can I tell you that I love you, I love you
but I can't think of right words to say
I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you
I'm always thinking of you....
 
It always ends up to one thing honey
and I can't think of right words to say
 
 
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