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crack_van2011-03-04 10:17 am
nancys-soul.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2011-03-04 10:17 am
Entry tags:
Tucked Away, by Sue David (Gen PG)
Fandom:STARSKY and HUTCH
Pairing:None
Length:long
Author on LJ:unknown
Author Website:http://starskyhutcharchive.com/stories.php?genre=gen&authid=36
Why this must be read:
This is a sad story about something bad that happened to Hutch when he was young. He wasn't molested or anything like that, but it was so traumatic that he has suppressed it deep inside of himself and he doesn't remember until he is on a call with Starsky. In this story Starsky is so loving and loyal and protective. It is a really good read.
Starsky and Hutch had been drawing unpleasant cases all week. They started off with a drowning victim who had been in the ocean for several days. The rest of the week slid downhill from there. This was the last day of the workweek for them and they had already put in 55 hours each. They were tired and their nerves were a little frayed. Thank God they had a few days off coming.
The two men were seated at a coffee shop. Hutch was finishing at least his tenth cup of the day, Starsky nursing his fifth. The passable lunch they had shared had been cleared away and they were deep in conversation about the lack of interesting cases, the state of their respective love lives, what teams were likely to make it to the playoffs, and any other number of fascinating topics.
Starsky noticed Hutch's hands were starting to shake just a little. "Enough caffeine for you, buddy."
"Why?"
"Your hands are starting to shake. If you have to pull that canon of yours I don't want you accidentally shooting me--or your own foot." He smiled slyly.
"Dirtball." Hutch knew he was right, though.
Since their lunch break was over they paid the bill and headed back out to the car. The day was warm so Hutch shrugged off his letterman's jacket and tossed it into the back of the Torino. They cruised around their beat for another hour when they got a report of a dead body, probable suicide. Starsky pointed the Torino in the right direction. He hated the suicides. Wonder how this one did it?
When they pulled up to the front of a small house, a uniformed officer led them inside to talk to the next-of-kin. She was a nice looking lady of about 40 and she was sobbing uncontrollably. The victim was her 17-year-old son Jason. His mother told the officers her son was in his room, first door on the left at the top of the stairs. Hutch left Starsky and the other officer to talk with the mother while he went upstairs to the boy's bedroom. As he walked up the stairs, he started to break out in a cold sweat. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You're right, Starsk. Gotta drink less coffee.
Tucked Away
Pairing:None
Length:long
Author on LJ:unknown
Author Website:http://starskyhutcharchive.com/stories.php?genre=gen&authid=36
Why this must be read:
This is a sad story about something bad that happened to Hutch when he was young. He wasn't molested or anything like that, but it was so traumatic that he has suppressed it deep inside of himself and he doesn't remember until he is on a call with Starsky. In this story Starsky is so loving and loyal and protective. It is a really good read.
Starsky and Hutch had been drawing unpleasant cases all week. They started off with a drowning victim who had been in the ocean for several days. The rest of the week slid downhill from there. This was the last day of the workweek for them and they had already put in 55 hours each. They were tired and their nerves were a little frayed. Thank God they had a few days off coming.
The two men were seated at a coffee shop. Hutch was finishing at least his tenth cup of the day, Starsky nursing his fifth. The passable lunch they had shared had been cleared away and they were deep in conversation about the lack of interesting cases, the state of their respective love lives, what teams were likely to make it to the playoffs, and any other number of fascinating topics.
Starsky noticed Hutch's hands were starting to shake just a little. "Enough caffeine for you, buddy."
"Why?"
"Your hands are starting to shake. If you have to pull that canon of yours I don't want you accidentally shooting me--or your own foot." He smiled slyly.
"Dirtball." Hutch knew he was right, though.
Since their lunch break was over they paid the bill and headed back out to the car. The day was warm so Hutch shrugged off his letterman's jacket and tossed it into the back of the Torino. They cruised around their beat for another hour when they got a report of a dead body, probable suicide. Starsky pointed the Torino in the right direction. He hated the suicides. Wonder how this one did it?
When they pulled up to the front of a small house, a uniformed officer led them inside to talk to the next-of-kin. She was a nice looking lady of about 40 and she was sobbing uncontrollably. The victim was her 17-year-old son Jason. His mother told the officers her son was in his room, first door on the left at the top of the stairs. Hutch left Starsky and the other officer to talk with the mother while he went upstairs to the boy's bedroom. As he walked up the stairs, he started to break out in a cold sweat. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You're right, Starsk. Gotta drink less coffee.
Tucked Away