Sorry, I know this is a little late for Christmas, but I couldn't finish it in time, then felt the need to tweek it a bit more. Hope you still enjoy it. Usual disclaimers. Don't own the guys, wish I did. Written for pure Christamstime entertainment and a few smiles.

"O' Christmas Tree"

Starsky sat slumped on his living room couch, a sour look on his face as he spoke into the phone. "I don't need a babysitter, Hutch."

"I know, just humor me, okay?" his partner replied. "You're not quite up to a solo act yet, Gordo. Huggy will be over later with a hot meal. I expect you to actually eat it, and not just push it around on the plate. Did you take your pills?"

"Yes, Mom."

"What about your rescue inhaler? You have it nearby in case you need it?"

"Quite worrying, Hutch…gonna be fine," he said. Despite his best effort, his words still came out breathy, his recovering lungs still having trouble forcing enough air out to make a full sentence. "Just gonna sit right here…on this damn couch…and stare at the four walls…of my not decorated apartment," he brooded.

His partner on the other end of the line could hear the frustration in his voice and the underlying depression. "I'm sorry, Starsk. You know I hoped to be back by now, but the case is taking longer than expected."

"I know, ain't your fault…just bad timing. Sides, it's more important ta me…for you to make sure Gunther doesn't get off on some damn legal loophole."

"Isn't going to happen buddy."

"You get a flight yet?"

"I'm working on it. You know how it is with the holiday rush, though, and the weather isn't helping either. May not be able to get anything until tomorrow evening."

"But, Hutch, that's Christmas already!"

"I know. I'm sorry, Starsk. I really am."

"This sucks!"

"I know. In the mean time, I want you to stay inside! It's still cold and wet and raining down there."

"Aw, Hutch, been inside for four days now…going nuts...What good is getting' out of the hospital if I can't even poke my head outside!"

"Listen, Gordo, you don't need to be out in that kind of weather."

"But the tree, Hutch…" Starsky whined.

"No Starsky. You just got out of the hospital with pneumonia, dummy!"

"But it's almost Christmas!"

"No, Starsk, absolutely not!" Hutch quipped. "The last thing your lungs need right now is for you to go traipsing around a muddy Christmas tree lot alone in the rain looking for a damn tree."

"Aw, Hutch…."

"I mean it, Gordo! Promise me."

"Promise you what?"

Hutch sighed exacerbatedly through the connection. "Promise me that as soon as I hang up you're NOT going to go traipsing off to a Christmas tree lot alone in the rain looking for a damn tree."

"What am I, a kid?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

Starsky muttered something under his breath Hutch couldn't quite make out.

"Starsky, promise me," Hutch said.

There was a heavy silence as Starsky brooded and Hutch worried.

"Either that or I call Dobey and have him and Edith pick you up and bring you back to their house."

"Fine," Starsky said grudgingly. "I promise I won't go out in the rain alone to a Christmas tree lot. Happy now?"

"No. But it'll have to do until I can get home."

Starsky heard some garbled conversation on the other end, and Hutch saying something like he'd be right there. "Look, buddy. I-I gotta go. I'll call you later if I get a flight, okay?"

"Okay. Hey, Hutch?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I-I'm sorry you're stuck up there," Starsky said sincerely, hating the idea Hutch had to spend Christmas Eve stuck in an airport. "I miss ya." It was hard to keep the sadnesss out of his voice.

There was a small silence. "I miss you too, Gordo," Hutch replied softly and Starsky could almost feel his partner's long fingers trying to reach out to him through the connection. "I'll be back as soon as I can, babe, and we'll celebrate Christmas then, just the two of us, like we planned."

"Okay."

"In the meantime, stay dry and warm. Bye, buddy."

"Bye, Hutch."

The line went dead a second later. Starsky replaced the receiver with a long sigh, slumping further into the couch and feeling even more depressed than ever.

Tomorrow would be Christmas. He'd been so excited to be discharged from the hospital with thoughts of being able to spend the holidays at home, sharing them with Hutch.

This year they had planned to decorate Starsky's apartment, get a tree, do the whole holiday thing, but the sudden and unexpected trip up to San Francisco had thwarted their plans. Hutch had been the first to object, but the D.A.'s office up north had insisted, telling him his presence was imperative to the case they had been building against Gunther for many long months.

They promised it would only be a quick trip, just a day, two at the most, to tie up some last loose ends. Neither partner was especially happy, but neither wanted to see the bastard get away with what he had done to Starsky.

Beyond that, Hutch wasn't at all keen on the idea of leaving Starsky alone right now either, especially after he had just gotten discharged from hospital following a bout of pneumonia.

Since Gunther's attack, Starsky's road to recovery was proving to be a long and arduous journey. Not only did he have to battle the physical pain and limitations caused by the three bullets that had hit him directly in the chest, tearing through bone and muscle, but also a damaged lung which was taking a lot longer to recover from than Starsky hoped. Even after months of therapy, he still became short of breath easily and his lung was susceptible to infection. With his immunity still low, Starsky had caught a cold, which unfortunately had developed into pneumonia requiring a two week hospital stay at Memorial.

He'd been discharged only four days ago with a list of oral medications and a rescue inhaler and strict instructions to take it easy and to stay out of the damp weather.

Hutch hadn't even gotten him inside his apartment before it started raining. And now, four days later, the cold Northern front had yet abated.

With Hutch out of town until Christmas at least and still stuck in his empty apartment alone, Starsky brooded miserably. He still had a slow time getting around, got short of breath easily, and wasn't allowed to drive. All and all he was thoroughly depressed.

He sat on the couch and brooded for the better part of an hour listening to Christmas carols on the radio. When "Deck the Halls" played, it was like everyone was suddenly mocking him as he looked around his bare, empty apartment. No decorations! No lights! No tree! No presents! No Hutch...the last thought the most depressing of all.

After waking from the coma it had been just a struggle to breath and to get through each pain filled day. Some days he didn't think his battered, torn up body could make it another hour, but Hutch had been his anchor, the one and only person that made it bearable, gave him hope.

"Come on buddy, just hang in there," he remembered Hutch saying one particular bad day.

"Tryin'...just hurts so damn much, Hutch."

"I know, buddy. I know. And I know you're scared, but you can't give up. You've gotten this far and before you know it you'll be home for Christmas, driving me crazy singing Christmas carols again, pestering me about what present I'm going to get you." Hutch had held his hand, offering him his strength, his comfort. "You get yourself better, Starsk, and I'll even let you drag me with you to find a tree this year."

Starsky had snickered weakly. "Wanna real one," he had mumbled through glazed, pain filled eyes. "Full of lights. And you and me together..."

"You got it buddy, just hang on to that. We'll have a Christmas buddy, just the way you want it this year."

It had been their plan...

A knock on the door followed by a familiar voice brought Starsky out of his depressing thoughts. It took him a few minutes to squirm up off the couch and slowly make it to the door. When he opened it, despite his mood, he couldn't help but grin at Huggy who stood wearing a bright paisley green & red Santa hat.

"Heya, Starsk. I bring tidyings of joy."

Starsky let him in. Huggy shrugged out of his wet overcoat and Starsky noticed Huggy's colorful festive vest over the long silk green shirt he wore matched the hat. About his neck, Huggy also had a dozen or so long colorful ribbons draped like scarves.

"Ya look like a wrapped Christmas present," Starsky said.

"And I got a lovely chocolate brown lady who gets to open me later tonight," Huggy grinned widely. He lifted one of the ribbons which had bells attached to the ends, jingling them. "You like?"

"On you, the looks fits."

"I'm not sure if that's meant to be a compliment or an insult, but Happy Holidays anyway, my brother. Brought you some chow."

Starsky sighed all over again. "Thanks, Huggy, but I'm not very hungry."

"What'sa matter, Curly?"

Starsky pouted. "Aw, Hutch is still stuck up in San Francisco. Says he won't be able to get back until tomorrow sometime. Which means it'll be too late to even get a tree now." Starsky eyed the black man. "Unless…"

Huggy cocked his head to one side. "Unless what?"

"You could take me."

"Take you where?" he asked suspiciously.

"To get a tree of course," Starsky told him.

The black man's eyes widened. "Are you nuts?"

"Aw…come on, Hug. It won't take too long. We could be back in no time."

"No way! It's friggin ass cold and wet out there."

"Please, Hug. It's almost Christmas and I'm going nuts here. You know how depressing it is to stare at my four bare walls this time of year?"

"The only thing I know is Hutch will skin me alive if I take you out in this weather, so just forget it."

"Fine, I'll drive myself."

"No way on that idea too! I know for a fact, you're NOT allowed to drive yet either."

Starsky pouted, then thought.

"Well, I guess, that's that then."

Huggy eyed Starsky suspiciously, not knowing the curly headed man to give up quit so easily. "What are you up too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't give me that. I can see the wheels turning in there."

"I'm just agreeing with you. I don't want you to get into trouble with Hutch, and I can't drive myself…so."

Starsky made his way over to a side table and picked up a phone book and started flipping through the pages.

"What are you doing?" Huggy asked.

Starsky, shrugged, keeping his back deliberately to Huggy. "Well, if I can't drive and you won't take me, guess I'll just call a cab."

"A cab?"

"Sure, why not?"

He waited then heard Huggy curse.

Finding the number, he picked up the phone.

"You're not serious about this?"

Starsky shrugged. "I want a tree."

Huggy snatched the phone out of his hand. "No way! No way in hell, Curly!"

Starsky clamped his mouth stubbornly down. He crossed his arms. "I'll just wait until you leave, Huggy, then call."

Huggy's brows descended into an angry thin line. His index finger came up, which remarkably resembled Hutch's when he was really pissed. "Curly, this, this is… blackmail and you know it!"

The corners of Starsky's mouth lifted slightly. "Come on, Huggy. It won't take long. I promise. I want to have a tree and some decorations up before Hutch gets back."

"Hutch doesn't even like Christmas."

"But this year's different. It's a celebration. A few months ago, no one, not even the doctors thought I'd be around to celebrate another Christmas. Come on, Hug, please!"

Huggy firmly tried to stand his ground, but it was very difficult as giant blue indigo eyes pleaded like a little boy. Huggy, who hadn't seen a real smile or even much enthusiasm for anything in his curly haired friend in the months since Gunther's attack, found his resolve wavering.

"All right! All right!" He finally said and received a huge smile from the curly haired man. "On one condition. You're gonna eat first, take your meds, dress warm and we make this quick! AND my name doesn't come into the conversation when Hutch comes back ready to kill you."

Starsky smiled. "That's five conditions, but you gotta deal!"

Excitedly he asked Huggy to retrieve his box of Christmas decorations and lights from the top shelf of his closet since he still couldn't reach very far above his head without a lot of pain.

Huggy set the box on the couch. While Huggy fixed lunch, Starsky opened the box, sifting through it and pulled out a couple of stockings. One for him, one for Hutch. He smiled, suddenly feeling warm and happy.

For the first time in a long time, Hutch had been happy, excited about Christmas, and this year, Starsky wanted to make it special for him, for both of them.

He moved slowly across the room and hung them carefully over his small fireplace, then added a few more decorations. Even this little effort left him breathless, but it didn't curb his enthusiasm.

He coughed several times in the process, the sound guttural, like a wheezing seal, making Huggy frown. "You okay, Curly?"

Starsky nodded, trying to curb the cough. He finished decorating and headed for the hall closet to retrieve his jacket. "Come on. Let's go get the tree now!"

Huggy shook his head. "Na-ah. Not until you eat."

Starsky grumbled.

"Aw, Hug."

"A deals, a deal."

Starsky sighed, but didn't argue. He really wasn't very hungry. As a matter of fact, since the shooting, most days his appetite was iffy at best. It was one of the things that bugged Hutch the most since he still hadn't regained much of his lost weight, despite his partner's attempts to fatten him up. But between the damage done to his stomach and all the meds he was still on, most foods still upset his stomach easily, and what he did eat, more than half the time it just came back up later. But he knew Huggy wouldn't take him unless he ate, so Starsky sat down at the table and forced himself to eat. Luckily it was something mild, hot chicken noodle soup and a roll of bread. He only managed to eat half of it with a few bites of the bread though before he had to push it away.

Afterwards, he dutifully took his meds and only then would Huggy finally agree to take him after noting the rain had finally seemed to be letting up.

A half hour later Starsky was bundled up in his favorite long sleeve red shirt with a long sleeve knitted sweater over that, a jacket and scarf, and even a wool beanie hat as he sat in the passenger seat of Huggy's Lincoln as the black man drove him across town to the Christmas tree lot.

As Starsky sat, he tried really hard not to feel guilty about going behind Hutch's back.

Technically, Starsy tried to convince himself, he wasn't really breaking his promise to Hutch, just bending it a bit. He'd promised Hutch he wouldn't go traipsing through a Christmas tree lot alone, and he wasn't. Huggy was with him. The rain had let up for a brief time, so, also technically, he wasn't walking around in the rain either.

He just wanted a real tree. It was always his favorite thing about Christmas. It was tradition. It was normal and he desperately wanted his life back the way it was.

Once they reached their destination, Huggy parked then came around to the passenger side of the car to help his friend out, but Starsky was able to climb out slowly, under his own steam. However, the cold brisk breeze that greeted them, caught them both unexpectedly, almost ripping the umbrella out of Huggy's hand and making Starsky shiver uncontrollably despite his layers of clothing.

Starsky started coughing as the brisk air hit his lungs. Huggy frowned as he tried to catch his breath. "Curly, this is damn crazy! I'm takin' you home."

"No. Hug. Please…It won't take long, I promise."

The black man rolled his eyes as he continued to frown. Hutch was gonna kill him! He just knew it!

One of the employees saw them and came over. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. I want a tree," Starsky said excitedly. "A big, fat one, really full."

"Well, I'll see what we can find. This late, most of our really big ones have already been sold though."

Seeing Starsky standing and shivering again in the cold, Huggy handed him the umbrella and lifted the first tree he could get a hold of off a nearby stack. "This one will be fine, Starsky."

Starsky looked at it, frowning. "It's gotta a big bald spot in the middle."

Huggy looked at it. He turned it around. "There. Now you can't even see it."

Starsky shook his head.

Huggy grumbled, grabbed the one next to it. "What about this one?"

Starsky frowned and stubbornly shook his head again. "That one's only four feet tall!...I want'a big tree!"

Huggy felt the drizzling rain starting again, hitting his face. He grabbed a third one. "Here. How about this one?"

"That thing?"

"What's wrong with it? It's big."

"Yeah, but look at it. It looks like a string bean. How can you call that a Christmas tree?" the brunet argued.

"Starsky. It cold and wet and raining again. Hutch is gonna kill us both if you stay out here much longer."

"Please, Huggy. Just a little longer," he begged.

"I've got a few still tied up, in back," the young man working the lot said. "Hang on, I'll go bring them up."

A few minutes later the young man had dragged three more trees over, cut the ties, picked them up and fluffed them out. Starsky eyed each one carefully. The first one had another bald patch on it that he didn't like. The second one, the branches were longer on one side than the other side, giving it a lopsided appearance. The third had a funny top to it. He shook his head to all three.

By now the wind was picking up. A sudden gust nearly blew Starsky over when it caught the umbrella and ripped it out of his hand. Cold rain splattered onto his bare face.

Huggy took one look at the rain running down Starsky's face and threw him a threatening look. Starsky quickly decided to take the third tree before Huggy dragged him back to the car.

Stasky was practically shoved into the passenger seat while Huggy took care of the transaction. The young worker and Huggy struggled to tie the tree down onto the roof of the car in the wind and the rain, stringing the ties through the interior of the car and back over the top, before slamming the doors shut. It was a bit of a challenge but at last, Huggy climbed into the car.

Almost soaked himself, he was about ready to chew Starsky's ass out but was stopped by the big boyish Cheshire grin plastered all over the brunet's face.

"Thanks, Hug!"

"You are going to soooo owe me for this," Huggy muttered instead.

"I know." Starsky put his hand on Huggy's shoulder and squeezed his friend, happy and looking forward to spending the rest of the day decorating his tree, waiting to surprise Hutch.

It was slow going on the return trip back. Even with the wipers at full speed, the rain continued to douse the windshield in sheets and gusts of wind shook the car.

Starsky started coughing again and then let out a couple of sneezes. Huggy threw a worried look and turned up the heat.

They had gotten three quarters of the way back to Ridgeway when another gust of wind blasted across the lanes of traffic. Suddenly a car swerved into Huggy's lane making the black man jerk his wheel sharply to the right to avoid getting hit.

Immediately the back end of the Lincoln started to fishtail as it lost traction on the wet pavement, jostling Starsky about in the passenger seat. Huggy frantically tried to straighten the car out, barely missing a head on collision with a truck as the car swerved into the opposing lane of traffic.

Suddenly they heard a snap and a ping as the corded ties holding the tree in place snapped.

A screech of tires followed, just as Huggy managed to get the car under control and bring it to an abrupt stop.

He looked over at Starsky who was gripping his left shoulder.

"Damn! Starsky, you okay?"

Starsky nodded, gritting his teeth. "Just jarred it a bit."

It was then Starsky noticed the corded ties hanging down the side of the passenger window. Slowly he rolled down the window and poked his head outside.

His mouth suddenly gapped open. "MY TREE!"

The Christmas tree, ripped off the roof in the wind, was now lying in the opposing lane of traffic. Suddenly both heard a blast of a horn and then in horror, Starksy watched as a huge semi truck zoomed passed, grinding the tree beneath its eighteen wheels.

Starsky looked over at the splintered remains in absolute dumbfounded shock. Eyes wide open, mouth still gaped open, he repeated forlornly. "My tree…."

Huggy watched the splintered remains blow across the road with another gust of wind. "Oh, man. That's just sad," he said.

"Damn, now we gotta go back and get another one!" Starsky muttered.

Huggy turned to look at him like his was nuts. "NO WAY, Curly! The only thing we're doing now is going home!"

"But Huggy, my tree!"

"Tree be damned! We almost got killed, if you didn't notice!"

"Please, Huggy!...It's almost Christmas," Starsky wheezed.

"Absolutely not!"

"Aw, Hug…" He tried to turn in the seat and winced from his sore shoulder.

"Don't 'aw, Hug' me!" Huggy snapped, furious. "Man, I knew this was a bad idea, just knew it! And I still let you talk me into it." The black man gripped the steering wheel. "Hutch is soooo going to kill me!"

Starsky coughed and pouted all the way back to Ridgeway, refusing to acknowledge he was feeling pretty miserable.

Once back, Huggy had to help him out of the car. The rain was coming down in buckets, and the wind blew the cold water up into their faces. By the time Huggy got Starsky back up the stairs and into his apartment, they were both soaked and Starsky's cough was sounding like a barking seal again.

Huggy stripped him out of his jacket and herded him to the bedroom, turning on the hot water in the shower.

By now, Starsky was cold, wet, tired, shivering and in pain.

While Starsky took a shower, Huggy went about making some hot tea and toweling himself off.

Fifteen minutes later, Starsky was back out, dressed in sweats with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He sat dejectedly down on the couch, wincing at his jarred shoulder.

"You okay, Curly?"

"Yeah," Starsky replied, sighing miserably. "Sorry, Hug."

"Hey, it's okay. Made you some hot tea." He handed Starsky the mug. "What else can I get you? I think it's still a little too early for more pain pills."

"Heating pad," Starsky said.

Huggy found the pad and plugged it in. Starsky put it up against is aching shoulder.

Next to him on the couch, his box of Christmas tree ornaments still sat, mocking him. Starsky let out a depressing sigh, sniffed as he nose ran. Huggy handed him a tissue, then felt his head.

"You're hot."

"I just got out of a hot shower," he groused in a raspy voice.

The black man bit his lip, not liking how Starsky sounded either. "I'm taking your temperature."

"I'm fine, Huggy. Geez, you sound like, Hutch!"

"Yeah, well, if you're sick again, we're both in deep shit, you know that!"

He went to the bathroom and got the thermometer, shoving it into Starsky's mouth just as the phone rang.

It was Hutch.

"Huggy? That you? Where's Starsky?" He demanded. "Everything okay?" He sounded very worried.

Huggy's eyes widened. "Hutch."

At the mention of his partner's name, Starsky swiveled his head.

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine. W-why do you ask?"

"Because, I've been trying to call for the last hour and a half and couldn't get a hold of anyone," Hutch snapped.

"Oh, uh…well, that was probably because, uh, Starsky was taking a nap."

"Oh? Well, is he awake now?"

"Awake now?" Huggy repeated.

Starsky shook head, not daring to talk to Hutch at the moment, knowing his partner had only to hear his voice to know something wasn't right.

"Uh, well, uh actually, he's still asleep. Guess he was pretty tired."

Huggy started to sweat when he heard a thick, tangible silence on the other end, feeling like Hutch could see him right through the telephone line.

"Uh, you want me to wake him up?" Huggy said quickly.

"Uh, no. It's okay. Um, it's just that it looks like the weather isn't going to let up anytime soon and the flight I hoped to come back on just got cancelled, so it looks like I'm going to be stuck here."

"Oh, man. That's a bummer. Sorry, Hutch. Piss poor way to have to spend Christmas Eve."

"I know. Look, can you make sure Starsky takes his antibiotic at seven tonight. I forgot to tell him that before when I called earlier. He needs to eat a little food with it or it will chew up his stomach later, just nothing with dairy in it for two hours before or after."

"Sure. I'll make sure."

"Thanks, Hug. Tell him I called, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." Huggy hung up just as Starsky starting coughing again, the thermometer shooting out of his mouth.

Huggy picked it up off the floor and read it. It was 99. 4. Just a little high, but luckily not a fever.

"What did Hutch have'ta say?" Starsky asked.

Huggy relayed the message.

Starsky's shoulders slumped even more, not knowing which made him feel worse, the idea of Hutch being stuck at the airport alone on Christmas Eve, or himself.

Huggy stayed for a couple more hours and made sure Starsky took his antibiotic with some applesauce.

The rain continued and finally his depression started to win out and he told Huggy he was just going to go to bed.

"Hey, Curly, you gonna be okay alone?"

"Yeah, Huggy. I'm fine, thanks."

"Maybe I should cancel my date."

"On Christmas Eve? No way. Someone here's gotta have some fun."

"You sure?"

Starsky nodded. "I'm okay, Huggy. Just bummed is all."

"Okay. Take care, Curly."

Starsky nodded and Huggy left.

Now alone, Starsky let out a deep depressing sigh, took his pain meds, plopped down on the couch and an hour and a half into "It's a Wonderful Life," fell asleep.

Sometime later something tickled Starsky's nose.

He snorted.

A few seconds later it was tickled again. Sleepily he tried to brush the irritant away, then rubbed his nose, mumbling in is sleep.

When his nose was tickled a third time, he woke up.

As he opened his sleepy eyes he found himself staring, to his great surprise, at a small lit and decorated Christmas tree sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

He cocked his head to the side, perplexed and confused, wondering if he was dreaming.

It was then he heard a soft familiar voice above him.

"Merry Christmas, Starsk."

He tipped his head back to see Hutch leaning over the couch, smiling down at him.

His eyes widened. "Hutch? Am I dreamin'?"

"No, buddy, you're not dreaming."

Starsky quickly sat up, wincing slightly, as Hutch came around and sat down next to him. He felt the familiar solid warmth of his partner's shoulder touching his, the long gentle fingers settling on his thigh.

"But, how? Thought ya wouldn't be able to get here till tomorrow sometime."

"I managed to snag a last minute standby."

Starsky eyes were drawn back to the lit tree. "And ya brought me a Christmas tree!"

"What every Jewish guy needs," Hutch chuckled. "I'm sorry it's not very big, buddy. I know how much you really wanted one this year, but by the time I got back into town, most of the lots were already closed. I'm afraid they didn't have much left, only small ones." His face fell a bit. "By the time I got this one in and out of the cab and up here through the wind and the rain…well it's pretty beaten up."

Starsky gazed at the little pathetic tree with its sagging branches, leaning percariously to one side and his eyes suddenly got all watery. That Hutch had done that for him, knowing how much he really wanted a real Christmas tree made him feel all warm and loved inside. But more importantly, Hutch was here! Here for Christmas! Here to share it all with him. Starsky looked at the little tree again and in his heart it was suddenly ten feet tall.

"It's the most beautiful tree in the world, Hutch! Thanks!"

Hutch smiled, white teeth flashing, the blond face turning youthfully boyish in response to Starsky's joy.

Starsky gazed at his partner, his best friend, his other half and his face fell momentarily as a thought popped into his head. "Aw, Hutch. I didn't get you a present yet! I'm sorry."

Hutch shook his head. "Don't you know, Starsky. You've already given me the best present I could ever get."

"What's that?"

Hutch's eyes soften, glittering in the radiant light. "You, buddy, just you." He took Starksy's hand in his, interlacing their fingers together, squeezing gently. "You survived, Starsk. That's all I ever want and need for Christmas. Just me and thee, together."

Starsky's smile went all the way up to his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Hutch."

"Merry Christmas, buddy."

***The End***

(Merry Christmas everyone from bluespiritgal)