Title: Shades of Black

Author/pseudonym: Creed Cascade

Fandom: Starsky and Hutch

Pairing: Starsky/Hutch

Rating: R

Status: new

Archive: *yes, oh, yes*. Just let me know.

Feedback: creed_cascade@hotmail.com

Other websites: http://insaneasylum.slashfanfiction.com

Disclaimers: We have a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. You don't ask where we get these strange plots starring mysteriously familiar characters, and we won't tell you that I make no money, only deliriously happy satisfaction. Very hush-hush.

Notes: First S/H piece in a long, long time. Blame KimberlyFDR. Be warned perspective changes from 1st person, to 3rd person and back to
1st person.

THIS IS THE FANDOM THAT NEVER ENDS...
IT JUST GOES ON AND ON MY FRIEND...
SOME PEOPLE STARTED WRITING IT, NOT KNOWING WHAT IT WAS,
AND THEY'LL BE STUCK WRITING IF FOREVER JUST BECAUSE,
THIS IS THE FANDOM THAT NEVER ENDS...

Summary: Starsky and Hutch as seen from someone else's eyes.



Shades of Black
By Creed Cascade

Ken Hutchinson was a born protector. A Midwestern white knight who was supposed to become a doctor, settle down with a nice Mrs. Ken Hutchinson and produce a brood of blonde carbon copies. But Ken Hutchinson never really existed except in the mind of his parents.

The white knight only thought of himself as Hutch.

There was a Mrs. Hutchinson, or rather, an ex-Mrs. Hutchinson, but that just went to prove that Hutch couldn't be changed, no matter how much any Mrs. Hutchinson tried.

Hutch isn't even just Hutch anymore. Now he's Starsky and Hutch, part of a matched set. One partner is rarely seen without the other and if they are alone, you always wonder where the other is. It's the kind of relationship married couples strive decades to achieve.

I saw the seeds of that potential planted back at the academy. Not even being separated into different precincts as beat cops could stop fate; not even a wife could stop Hutch from finding Starsky. When Hutch promised until death do us part, he lied to me. When I watch him with Starsky, I know he made that promise to him without ever being asked.

I watched Hutch before I looked him up. I watched my ex-husband with his partner, watching them touch and feeling some small part of me that still loved Hutch howl. The man I had married barely tolerated holding hands in public with me and here he was touching a man. Not the friendly pats most men share, but lingering touches. Sitting so close that if any friend or foe was honest, they would see the connection. People around them are blind either out of loyalty or fear of recognizing something that deep between two men.

What makes me cry now is that Hutch didn't notice me watching them. He had only eyes for Starsky. I could hear every word that night they parked on the beach. The memory is still so real, as if I was watching them again…




Only days ago…

"We could lie on the hood," Hutch suggested, getting out of the car. There were other cars parked near the pier, but no one seemed to be around as the sun set.

"Ha, ha," Starsky said, caressing the pristine hood his car. "You're such a comedian."

"Thought you'd like that one." Hutch pulled off his jacket and laid it down on the sand. "Come over here, Starsk." He sat down on his jacket and leaned against the door of the Torino.

Starsky strutted around the hood and without comment pushed Hutch's back off the car. He tugged out most of Hutch's jacket from under Hutch's ass with his foot and then promptly plunked down minus any of Hutch's natural grace.

"It's nice out here," Starsky commented, shifting closer to Hutch.

"It's California, it's always nice," Hutch snorted. "You should take up a career as a weather girl."

Starsky lapsed into a falsetto, thick with his usual accent, "Today's forecast calls for sun, sun and look, more sun. Why? Because it's all quiet on the western front and settling over the coast…"

"That's a book, Starsk," Hutch laughed and cuffed the back of Starsky's head.

"Ow!" Starsk complained, rubbing his skull. "Mr. Know-It-All reads a book on weather? Next thing you'll be tellin' me someday they'll devote a whole freakin' channel to weather!"

"And you'd probably be all over that," Hutch chuckled and reached out, grabbing Starsky's head, pulling the other man almost into his lap. He prodded and ruffled Starsky hair, then pronounced, "You'll live."

"With a head injury," Starsky huffed, but he hadn't moved from being so close to his partner and laid his head on Hutch's shoulder. His legs were stretched out and he nudged Hutch's leg with his foot until Hutch laid an arm around his partner's shoulders. "That's better," Starsky mumbled.

"You're just happy to use me as a pillow instead of your damn car," Hutch complained good-naturedly, but he was already resting his own head against Starsky's and he sighed heavily.

"Damn straight," Starsky answered back. After a few moments of silence he added, "It was a long day."

"One of the longest," Hutch agreed.

"M' tired," Starsky complained.

Instead of teasing him this time, Hutch just pulled Starsky closer and they shared something in the silence that could never be said in words.

"We'll go back to your place and get some pizza," Hutch said after a while. An easy concession to greasy food and one of Starsky's favourite dishes meant it had been a day that every cop has. One of those days you question the virtue of humanity.

They sat there by the Torino, sitting in the sand and watching the sunset. Just as the last light was disappearing, Hutch leaned down and kissed Starsky. He nudged Starsky's free hand and entwined their fingers.

"It wasn't your fault," Hutch told him.

"I know, but that'd doesn't make it any easier," Starsky answered.

"No, it doesn't." Hutch told him the truth and didn't try to placate his partner. "How about that pizza, babe?"

"Can I get anchovies?" Starsky asked almost child-like, relieving the sombre mood.

"On your half," Hutch told him and manoeuvred so that he got up first. He reached out his hand and helped Starsky up. His arm wrapped around Starsky's waist, he squeezed the other man in a quick hug. They didn't have the car to shield their actions anymore, but Hutch didn't seem to care. "If you're tired, I could drive."

"Now you're diggin' for somethin' that's not gonna happen, Hutch," Starsky snorted and pushed away from Hutch. He took the car keys out his pocket and jingled them in front of Hutch's face. "I'm never too tired for a good ride."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hutch muttered under his breath, but he was smirking and smacked Starsky's ass as he retreated.



Back in Hutch's apartment…

Such a small moment to witness, but oh so telling. When the small moments in those men's lives were filled with such love, devotion, and loyalty, then the life-altering moments wouldn't really test their bond.

I tried to get him back. Even though I saw he was so deeply in love, I wanted what I couldn't have and hated Starsky with every fibre of my being. If I couldn't have Hutch's love, then I could at least have his pity.

A desperate lie was my only hope and it didn't work.

I know that now.

No shades of grey for Starsky's Hutch when it comes to love - only black and white.

So very black without my white knight… knowing he was never mine.

It's getting hard to breath and I know my last thought will be of Hutch.

It hurts… hurts from the bullet… or maybe more knowing that when Hutch dies, his last thought will be of Starsky, not me.



END.