crack_van | Home Front by Rosemary (NC-17)

Fandom: STARSKY & HUTCH
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Length: A bit more than 21.100 words
Author on LJ:

tiranog
Author Website: Listed by author name at The Starsky and Hutch Archive
Why this must be read: This story happens after Gunther's shooting. Starsky is working again and things are at ease between them.
Until Hutch got some really bad news from home, and in a very Starsky-like way he's suddenly VERY aware about his feelings for Hutch.
This story show us Hutch's background story, it introduce to us his parents and one of his oldest friends, and let's us know how his childhood must have been in there.
We see Starsky's shock at all these discoveries, and his outraged answer to Mrs Hutchinson cold dismiss of his son.
So, yes: hurt!Hutch, protective!Starsky, first time, great characterization, stunning dialogs... I believe that's all :)
Except, of course, for a little taste to the story itself:

"Jeff always did believe in doing things in a big way," Hutch smiled.
"Pity you didn't take his example." Mrs. Hutchinson joined the conversation. "How have you been, Jeff? It's been some time."
"Fine, ma'am," the muscle man beamed. "You certainly are looking pretty today."
"Why, thank you. You always did have lovely manners. How is business going?"
"Just great. We're having an end of year clearance sale right now."
"Are you still working at your father's car lot?" Though voiced innocently enough, there was a nuance to Mrs. Hutchinson's question that set Starsky's teeth on edge. Hutch's eyes narrowed in response.
Michaels' grin, conversely, became even broader. The implied slight then seemed all the more vicious for its intended victim's ignorance. "Yes, ma'am. Pop's thinking of retiring, but he's been thinking of retiring since I quit school."
"I see. Haven't you ever thought of..."
"Excuse me, Mother," Hutch interrupted, taking Michael's arm. "Isn't that Jimbo, over by the door, Jeff?"
"Damn, would you believe it? I haven't seen him for almost as long as I haven't seen you. Let's go give him a rousing welcome. What do you say, Kenny?"
"Sure. How 'bout it, Starsk?"
"I'll catch up. You two go ahead."
Hutch's questioning gaze searched his face. A brief nod and he turned to escort Michaels away.
The big man paused and looked at Hutch's mother. "Oh, ma'am. I nearly forgot. I'm heartily sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do..."
"No, thank you, Jeff."
Once the two blonds had gone to greet their arriving friend, Starsky turned to his partner's mother. "That wasn't particularly kind, Mrs. Hutchinson," he observed without rancor.
The plastic smile twisted her lips again. "Jeff Michaels was never particularly bright, Mr. Starsky."
"He seemed nice enough. Hutch certainly seems to like him."
"My son has always had abysmal taste in friends."
Score one to Mrs. Hutchinson. Starsky let the implied insult pass, responding to the words at surface value. "If you mean that Hutch never chooses his friends for their IQ's or their tax bracket, then you're right. Most mothers would be proud of such a son."
"Most mothers are content to have their sons sell used cars. I had higher hopes for Kenneth, although even what that poor half-wit, Michaels, does would be respectable when compared to what he's doing now."
"Lady, you are really something." Starsky's patience snapped. "What do you know about what Hutch does for a living?"
"His name is Kenneth," Mrs. Hutchinson corrected.
"Have you any idea of the number of lives your son has saved? Does that even matter to someone like you?"
"I'm sure Kenneth is good at what he does, but we didn't raise our son to..."
"I don't know who raised him to be what he is, but it sure wasn't you. For your information, Hutch isn't just good at what he does. He's the best. He's been decorated for heroism more times than I can count. Even if he wasn't a cop, even if he sold cars, dug ditches or cleaned sewers for a living, you'd still have reason to be proud of him."
"You're hardly an objective observer, Mr. Starsky, being in the same class as him yourself. You'd have to believe what Kenneth does acceptable, as it justifies your own existence."
"You're wrong about both things. I don't need anyone to justify what I am or what I do, lady. Not even Hutch."
"And what was the other thing I was wrong about?" Mrs. Hutchinson paused, seeming no more than amused by his ire.
"Huh?"
"If by that noise you mean 'what,' earlier you said I was wrong about both things. What was the other thing?"
Starsky felt his cheeks warm, not because he was uncomfortable with her correcting his grammar, but because he'd thought the other self-evident. "You said Hutch and me were in the same class. We're not. I'm a street cop, one of the best maybe, but just a street cop. Hutch could be anything if he didn't want to be a cop: a doctor, a lawyer, a physicist, anything."
"Then you do agree with me, after all, Mr. Starsky?" Hutch's mother demanded victoriously.
"No. You treat him like a failure because his idea of what matters doesn't match yours. What he does isn't prestigious as what he could've done in the eyes of people like you, but prestige wasn't why your son became a cop. He's taken on a dirty job that nine outta ten people are too sane to get stuck with. He's been shot, knifed, beaten up, drugged, kidnapped and even spat on in the line of duty. His job's cost him more girls and friendships than a man should have to lose. The one thing he should have is the support of his family. Haven't you ever thought about what your son might be feeling? How your attitude hurts him?" As Starsky was drawing breath to continue his carefully subdued tirade, two hands settled on his shoulders from behind.
"Forget it, babe. You're wasting your breath."
Starsky turned to gape at his partner. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough. Mother, just to set the record straight, you were both wrong. I'm the one who's outclassed in this partnership. You about ready to go, Starsk? Or do you want to put the heavy gloves back on and go another round?"

So, now, go, read, and tell Rosemary how amazing her story is!
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