dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
I wrote this for Nicky Gabriel. Thank you to Dawn for the beta and for keeping me 'American'.

Gen, and not quite 1,300 words. 'Starsky is looking with his emotions rather than the stark honesty of his camera lens.'

Different Lenses )
dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
Written for the Me and Thee 100 community on Live Journal, to the prompt 'radio'.

“I just can’t smi-ile without you-ooo,” Starsky warbled along with the radio. Hutch was looking at him, the backs of his fingers curved against his mouth, failing to hide a fond smile.

“Barry Manilow, Starsk?”

“Hey, Barry’s okay. He sings a good song,” Starsky said, turning towards his favourite hot-dog stand. “Tuneful.”

“Tinkly,” Hutch rejoined.

“Meaningful,” Starsky said.

“Sappy.” Hutch didn’t sound that loftily elitist, but Starsky was riled by the aspersions cast on his musical appreciation.

“How come ‘I can’t smile without you’ is more sappy than ‘all I want is black bean soup, and you to make it with me’?” Genuine offense skirted Hutch’s face and Starsky offered amends. “You sing a good song, too, I’m not denying it.”

“Very generous of you.”

“Barry’s not so bad. And it’s a true song. ‘I feel sad when you’re sad, feel glad when you’re glad.’” Starsky didn’t sing like a guy on the radio, but he didn’t make dogs howl, either. “Come on,” he cajoled, poking Hutch with his elbow. “You know you want to.”

“I don’t think so,” Hutch said. But Starsky caught him humming later and grinned victoriously before he whistled some bars, just to see Hutch glare.
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, a famous hug from the episode The Fix (The Fix)
Written for the 'vendetta' prompt at Me and Thee 100 on LJ
Read on )
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
I wrote this for Nicol Tyler, who was also my recipient last year. Strange are the ways of picking a name out of a hat, apparently. :0) Thanks to Provence Puss for looking this over, and thanks to Dawn for organising the Secret Santa.

Gen, 3,000 words. For the first time ever, I actually wrote a holiday themed story.
Three Holiday Conversations )
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, a famous hug from the episode The Fix (The Fix)
Written for the spark challenge on the Me and Thee 100 comm on LJ. Gen in the sense that you can't actually prove that it's slash.

Hutch is stone-faced after Marianne, after Kira, aware that it’s all gone wrong somewhere, sharp edges cutting himself and the people around him. But Starsky, steel in his eyes, keeps getting in Hutch’s way. Hutch doesn’t even mean to strike at him, would rather not, and winces every time he sees the sparks fly. Starsky wants to set a fire in him, to warm them both, but all that Hutch can see is how they could burn each other, all the things that might turn to ash, and he keeps his distance, hard as flint. But the sparks still fly....
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, a famous hug from the episode The Fix (The Fix)
I wanted some good quality caps of that scene from The Fix, but had to wait until I laid hands on an external DVD drive to replace the broken one in my laptop. I may have gone a little crazy, so under the cut is not at all friendly to dial up users.

Eleven images from The Fix )
dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
Because of course Starsky and Hutch would make cute My Little Ponies. Or something. Made with General Zoi's Pony Creator on deviantArt
Silly pics under the cut )


May. 25th, 2011 08:52 pm
dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
Written for challenge #110 on the Me and Thee comm on LJ. The prompt was 'sing'.

“Wild thing!” Starsky banged out the beat on the steering wheel. “You make my heart sing!”


“You make everything... groovy!"


Starsky eyed Hutch, who looked kind of green. Their current undercover target had hard-drinking associates.

“Sorry.” The lights turned red, and Starsky brought them to a gentle stop out of pure consideration for the blond grump in the passenger seat. They waited.

“Just do it.”

“What?” Starsky asked innocently.

“You know you want to.” Hutch looked head-achey, but resigned.

“Wild thing, I think I love you,” Starsky sang softly, and let the engine roar as he pulled away.
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
Written for the jeans prompt at the Me and Thee 100 comm on LJ. Gen, mild angst.

Starsky doesn't keep tabs on how often he replaces or repair his clothes, or on whether his drycleaners will miss his custom when he retires. If he cared to count, there's the pair of jeans that Hutch threw up on coming off the heroin. Another pair were ripped to the knee on a chain link fence. There's the pair that Hutch threw in the trash with shaking hands after they were cut off Starsky when Gunther's men shot him.

Starsky's mother told him that cold water gives you a better chance of shifting bloodstains; but that only works on cloth.
dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
I wrote this story for Nicol Tyler for the 2010 Secret Santa in the Starsky & Hutch Me and Thee list community. Thank you to Dawn for the beta work.

Gen, 1024 words, nothing bothersome should be herein. Starsky and Hutch have pizza and deep thoughts at the beach.
The Philosophers )
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
I wrote this for the MeandThee100 comm on Livejournal.

The nearest telephone is downstairs in the apartment of the late Victor Bellamy, so Hutch lifts Starsky with a fireman's carry. He hates Starsky's grunt of pain, but there's no easier way to safely negotiate the stairs.

Bellamy's wife, Bellamy's widow, gazes wide-eyed around the doorway, and Hutch hopes she doesn't start screaming because he doesn't trust himself not to start screaming right along with her. Instead, she sobs with stifled hysteria as Hutch sidles in and lays Starsky down on the crappy sofa.

He phones for ambulances and back-up and whatever's necessary for a dead body shot by a cop's gun. "Guess we have an IA meeting in our future, buddy," he murmurs, gently pushing Starsky's hair back from the sweaty face.

"Look forward to it," Starsky says, so slurred Hutch wouldn't recognise the words if he didn't know Starsky.

Bellamy's wife rocks back and forth on a chair, wailing, and Hutch grits his teeth so he won't yell at her, so he won't stand up and backhand her into silence. He's angry, but he knows who the anger's really for. "He wouldn't have got the drop on me," he protests.

He isn't convincing anyone, least of all himself.
dalegardener: A terrified young woman from the cover of a classic horror comic (Spook Me)
[personal profile] spook_me is a Halloween challenge and I'm so pleased to have written a Starsky and Hutch story for it. The banner is by [personal profile] neevebrody


This story is one of those 'the author chooses not to warn' deals. Please read at your own discretion. 4,700 words, gen, mild horror themes. Besides the story, at the bottom of the page under the cut is the information about my prompt and the two comic book covers that were used as additional prompts this year. I used one of them.

Many thanks are owed to Nico for a general beta, and to Judy and Nico both for ensuring that I didn't embarrass myself in the last section of this story.

Summary: "You son of a bitch!" Starsky crows. The little watering can hits the floor with a plastic clatter. "Hutch,where the hell have you been?"

Cold Hands, Warm Heart )

My prompts )
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
Angel on Livejournal and I were discussing Hutch's cowboy tendencies as displayed in canon, and this bit of writing popped out. Gen. 240 words approx.

Cowboy Dreams

It's a favourite daydream. It has been ever since you were a small boy, and while some of the trimmings change, the basics never do.

There's a big sky above. Sometimes it's a blue so deep and pure that you think it must go on forever, and sometimes it's black, sprinkled with stars that you never see when you look up from city streets. There's a horse, a gentle-natured beast with a big heart, that whinnies to greet you. There's grassland, stretching out as far as your eyes can see, lush green or grain-gold, as the mood takes you.

When you were young you rode that grassland alone, and sometimes you still do, but nowadays you have a companion as often as not. It's Starsky of course, riding a big, mean, bay horse. Both horse and rider have a glint of mischief in their eyes. Sometimes you talk. Sometimes you simply ride, companions in quiet, because if there's one thing that you know, it's that sometimes silence is the only thing that will do.

You suspect that Starsky might laugh if you tried to tell him, especially about his presence in your little dream-world. The two of you whittle jokes and banter with a knowledge of each other as sharp as a Bowie knife, and sometimes the blade slips. So you let your dream out into the real world in small ways - your clothes, your music. Just a whisper of a cowboy dream.
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, a famous hug from the episode The Fix (The Fix)
Drabble, ie 100 words, gen, pgish for adult concepts, I guess. Written for the 'deep' challenge on the MeandThee-100 comm on Live Journal.

Too Deep

A cop is always in too deep with his city, delving worm-like into her innards, hoping that it's the good earth he leaves behind him, and not just more shit. A cop knows the rough places where the garbage lies out in the open, and he knows the shiny places where the rot lies discreet and hidden. A cop can't drive past the blue sparkling ocean without wondering what rests below the surface.

A cop is always in too deep with his city. A man needs something (or someone) to haul him to the surface. Lucky he has Starsky, then.
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, a famous hug from the episode The Fix (The Fix)
As gen as the show, 587 words, a tag to the episode 'Hostages', written for the Me and Thee 1000 comm on LJ to the prompt, 'vulnerable Hutch'.
Lightweight )
dalegardener: Railways tracks between trees (Railway tracks)
The challenge in the Me and Thee 100 comm was Fat Rolly. Someone must have appreciated him, even temporarily. :0)

This beer sure is strong... Not even a 'I love you, Lillian'. It's not like I don't love my big lummox but he ain't much of a talker. Makes me mad. Rolly, he's a solid guy, and I like 'em solid, it's reassurin', and he's got sweet talk. Plus, he's a businessman. It's not classy, but Rolly is enterprising and you gotta respect that.

I feel awful how Rolly got hurt, but a woman appreciates it when her sweetie gets riled like that. Pardon my hiccup. It's not sweet talk, but it's reassurin', and sometimes a girl just needs reassurin'...
dalegardener: Illustration of black and white cats with broken plant pot (Cats)
Written for Me and Thee 1000 on LJ. Gen, 600 words, mild profanity. The guys are doing a stake-out on a dark and stormy night.

Climatically Speaking )
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