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A Well Deserved Day Off
Opening his eyes blearily to the morning sun, Ken Hutchinson reached out to shut off the alarm clock seconds before it went off. He looked at the solid red numbers that read 9:59 am. It was hardly the crack of dawn but with the shifts they had been working lately, it still seemed like an inhumane hour to be getting out of a nice, comfortable bed. Two straight weeks of 4 pm to midnight shifts, which too often dragged to 2 or 3 am, had been entirely too much. Especially for this time of year. They had barely managed to find enough time to exchange presents and snag a quick brunch in between shifts on Christmas Day. On New Year's Eve as 1980 turned into 1981, they had had just enough time for a brief kiss before being called to the scene of yet another crime. Seemed the criminals didn't care that another year had faded into the past, people just kept carrying on as they always had. Sighing at this thought, he burrowed back under the covers and wrapped his arms once again around his partner's waist, smiling as Starsky reached up to sleepily wrap his hand around Hutch's.
Luckily Hanukkah had fallen early in the month of December that year, or Starsky would have complained even more about the timing of their killer shifts. As if it were possible for him to complain more. Hutch loved his partner dearly but knew that working the holidays with him would be one large pendulum swing in moods between Starsky's enthusiastic joy for the season and frustration at not being able to go out and revel in it all.
Getting up this early had been Hutch's idea. Earlier in the week he had told Starsky in no uncertain terms that the Christmas decorations in both their places and the car, were coming down that day. Starsky had argued for waiting until the 6th, until after the wise men had arrived, but Hutch had a better argument for doing it sooner.
"We are not waiting for three other mythical people to show up to visit a child that you don't even believe in. You're still Jewish, Hanukkah is long gone, and I am beyond done with Christmas. Time to pack it up, so you can torment me with it all again next year."
Starsky had been laughing so hard at that point that he had given in and they had set aside the morning of January 4th to put everything away. It would have been pointless to wait anyway; their next scheduled day off wasn't until the 7th. Which was three long days from then, and they were both so tired and worn out. He looked over at his soundly sleeping partner and reached up to run a hand through the dark curls.
"Something has to give here, babe, and I don't want it to be us," he thought. It wasn't as if they were arguing or fighting, it just seemed as if they had both started to shut down somewhere along the way. They didn't talk as much during the day and when they got home it was hard enough to find the energy to get something to eat and collapse into bed together, let alone do anything else. And Hutch knew that Starsky was missing the "anything else" as much as he was.
"I think we've done our share for now. Let's see if we can't get a well deserved day off."
Sliding out of bed and grabbing his robe, Hutch wandered out into the living room to call their superior. One phone call and two well-told lies later, he was back in bed. Reaching over to give his still sleeping partner a quick kiss on the cheek, he pulled Starsky close and fell into a contented sleep.
"What day it is?" was Dave Starsky's first rational thought as he fought his way though the haze of sleep. "Saturday? No, Sunday. January 4th. Day to take down all the Christmas stuff." He smiled as he felt his partner's arms wrapped around him and thought about the craziness of the past two weeks.
Knowing that he had driven his partner crazy complaining about their situation and the fact that he was missing all the fun of the holidays, Starsky had given in fairly quickly on the matter of the Christmas decorations. Besides which, with Hanukkah having come so early, he had already had an extra week both to enjoy them and to annoy his partner with their presence. And he wasn't too upset with the idea of spending some time alone with Hutch, they had precious little of it to themselves lately. Once the decorations were down maybe they'd have time to...
"Damn. Or not," he thought as he rolled over and looked over his partner's shoulder at the alarm clock. Almost a quarter past 11, and they had to be in by 3 today to finish up the paperwork from the night before. I thought Hutch set that thing before we crashed last night. Looking down at his practically unconscious partner he realized that Hutch most likely had set the alarm and then had enough sense to turn the stupid thing off. Sighing at the thought of having to wake his partner up so they could go through the same routines all over ago, he decided that neither one of them really had the energy to keep going like this.
"Enough's enough, babe. We're bailing out on this one."
Feeling rather proud of himself for having wrangled the day off from Dobey, Starsky sauntered back into the bedroom. Finding his partner awake and sitting up against the headboard, he climbed up on the bed and straddled him.
After a quick kiss, Hutch asked, "Who were you talking to out there?"
"I," Starsky said, leaning in for another kiss, "just got us a day off."
"You did what?"
"Called Dobey and got us the day off. As in not working for a change. The way we've been going, we deserve it. Don't look at me like that, babe, its not like you've never called out before."
Hutch looked down, thinking, That statement is truer than you know, buddy. Still looking down, Hutch said, "Um, Starsk."
"I kinda woke up a while ago and you were still out and I was really wiped and..."
"I did," he replied, finally looking up at his partner.
"Aw Hutch, damn it, we think too much alike for our own good sometimes."
After looking at each other in silence for a few seconds, both men lost control and started laughing hysterically. Starsky fell on top of Hutch and finally landed next to him on the bed. Laying on his back looking at the ceiling Starsky said, "We're dead, aren't we?"
"Yep, very dead," Hutch answered, rolling over on his side and idly running his hand over Starsky's chest and stomach.
"So what did you tell him," Starsky asked.
"That you had eaten something last night that didn't agree with you..."
"Blame it on me, thanks partner."
"Anytime," Hutch replied, smiling. "Anyway, you've got food poisoning and since I ate some of it too..."
"You had to stay home just in case."
"Exactly. And your tall tale was?"
"You caught the flu that's been going around and..."
"You're not feeling too good yourself," Hutch finished.
"This is probably going to be our only day off for the foreseeable future."
Starsky grimaced at that comment, knowing all too well what punishments their superior was probably cooking up for them at that very moment. "If we even have a future once Dobey gets finished with us."
"So, what do you want to do with our day off, Gordo?"
"Oh, I have a few ideas," Starsky said in his sexiest voice, reaching over to pull Hutch on top of him. "Come 'ere, Blondie."