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, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
Written for Me and Thee 100 on LJ, to the prompt 'crossover'.

One of a Kind

Starsky held up the business card he’d discovered down the side of the couch. “Joe Rossi, Los Angeles Tribune,” he declaimed, before asking in more gentle tones, “Getting offers from the big boys after Gunther, blintz?”

Hutch leaned across Starsky’s body to take the card and tear it into confetti. “A high-class establishment paper like the Tribune doesn’t make ‘offers’. What it does is send pushy reporters to your front door demanding your contribution to the story of the century.”

Starsky settled more comfortably into the crook of Hutch’s arm. “Story of the century, huh?”

“They got their exclusive without me. I figured that Rossi looked ambitious enough to dig out his story on his own, and I was right.” Hutch stretched out his legs, and tightened the arm around Starsky’s shoulders, before saying quietly “I might have informally contacted him once or twice about side issues. I like the Tribune’s editorial stance.”

Starsky raised one eyebrow. “Informally as in anonymously? Does Huggy have competition?”

Hutch looked as embarrassed as Starsky had even seen him. “Huggy is one of a kind. And so are you.” He kissed Starsky’s temple, and Starsky smiled.

“Always knew there was something to recommend me.”
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: Lantern-style streetlight against pale sky (Default)
This was written for the S&H Big Bang. Many thanks to Flamingo and [livejournal.com profile] dipslikeramon for organising and to Kat/[livejournal.com profile] sc_fossil for beta.

There is beautiful (and bandwidth demanding) artwork under the cut by Sonja, aka [livejournal.com profile] zebra_three. I am delighted that she picked my project to illustrate.

A Gaslight Friendship, 24,700 words. This story is suitable for older teen and adult readers because of scenes of violence and sex. Starsky/Hutch, past Hutch/Jack Mitchell. Alternate universe. Oh, yeah, and I took a stab at the omniscient viewpoint here. There are a few thoughts on writing the story at the end of the entry.

In early Victorian London, Dr Kenneth Hutchinson meets David Starsky, an actor. A close friendship soon develops, but Starsky is unsure what to make of Hutch's friend, Jack Mitchell, and the disturbing events that follow his arrival.

A Gaslight Friendship )
dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
Written for the cuffs challenge on Me and Thee 100 on LJ. Sexual references but nothing explicit. Even when Vanessa wins, she doesn't.
Drabble under the cut )
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, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
Written for the 'sex' prompt on Me and Thee 100 on Livejournal.
Word Power )
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 )
dalegardener: Starsky and Hutch, smiling, monochrome pic (Starsky and Hutch)
I wrote this for the episode discussions on the Love of Me and Thee List on Yahoo Groups.

Deadly Imposter )
dalegardener: (Starsky and Hutch 2)
This is just two old guys in love having breakfast together, but I suspect that readers may not necessarily like me at the end of it.

1300 words, future-fic, mild slash implied

The Important Things )


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)
I wrote this for the Me and Thee 100 comm on Livejournal, for the one hundredth prompt celebrations, to the prompt of jealousy.


Ollie's round glass eyes seem to stare accusingly; or maybe Hutch is imagining the clear-eyed, perceptive gaze of his former owner.

'Hey,' he thinks. 'How things turned out is not my fault.' "Not my fault," he says to the darkened room, but not too loudly.

Beside him, Starsky mutters, only half awake. "Babe?"

"Go to sleep. We have a busy day at the office tomorrow."

Starsky chuckles, a sleepy burble. Hutch turns his back on Ollie, and lays his arm across Starsky's waist. Sure, he'd have learned to share. But he can't help feeling glad that he doesn't have to.
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)
The ep opens with sirens sounding and armed guards scrambling at a federal penitentiary. Nearby two men wait in a car until they hear someone banging on the grate of a drain, and one of them helps another man in prison blues emerge. He is urgently demanding they get out of there and the car drives off.
I continue )
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