Title: Riches
Author: Keri T
Type: Gen
Summary: Hutch shops for dinner.
Format: Story
Category: Thanksgiving
Rating: G
Size: 5K
Date Added: 2009-01-25
Riches
by Keri T
"Where are we?" Starsky mumbled, his voice so distorted by sleep that the words would have been unrecognizable to anyone but his partner.
Hutch killed the Torino's headlights, which had become obscured by the florescent glow coming from the glass walls of the convenience store. He rested a hand briefly on Starsky's shoulder, then turned off the engine. "Go back to sleep, Starsk. I just need to make a quick pit stop."
Starsky turned his head, resting one side of his face against the leather seat. The brief hitch to his chin was the only indication he'd heard the words. Then, "Last time I let you drive my car if I don't even get to know where we are."
Hutch smiled, pausing on his way out of the car to feed the insatiable part of himself that couldn't look long enough, hard enough, or often enough at his breathing, healthy partner. The opportunities to do that now that Starsky was back with him on the streets and no longer in his care were too few, so he indulged in the moment. Thinking back on the last four weeks since Starsky's reinstatement, he realized that the man had been almost a blur of activity, with he himself the one lagging behind. Starsky hadn't eased into his return -- he'd embraced it, celebrated it, and found a satisfaction in the work that had been lacking in both of them for too long before... before...
Not now. Not tonight. Tonight's only for celebrating.
His peaceful mood restored, Hutch made his way inside the 7-11 determined to find the things he needed. The small store was empty of customers, with only one clerk behind the counter. A quick glance up the first aisle revealed shelves full of empty space. The second aisle was as sparsely stocked.
"Excuse me?" Hutch called out to the bored-looking, very young clerk. "It looks like you were cleaned out of cranberry sauce, do you have any in the back?"
"Sorry, sir, all our stock is on the shelves." The kid went back to leafing through a car magazine.
"Okay, thanks, anyway." Unperturbed, Hutch bent low to scan the shelves again. Behind a small stack of canned soup, he found one dented can of cranberry sauce.
Now we're in business, he thought happily. The find extinguished his last feeling of regret over not having made the time to get to a real grocery store sometime during the long work-week they'd had. Where there is cranberry sauce, there's a holiday meal. Now for some mashed potatoes.
Within five minutes, Hutch had searched every inch of the store, and gleaned all its last treasures. His arms were full of packages of instant mashed potatoes, canned gravy, canned corn, refrigerated pop-up rolls, a jug of wine with a screw-top cap, and the cranberry sauce. He dumped it all on the check-out counter and said to the clerk with a smile, "I still need something for dessert."
"We have a good selection of cupcakes and Ding Dongs. Or you could go with candy bars if you want to keep it simple," the boy offered helpfully.
"Hmmm, sounds tempting..." Hutch was trying to keep his grin restrained to a smile. "...but I was thinking of pie."
"We have individually wrapped Hostess fruit pies," the clerk said. "Both cherry and lemon."
"Perfect! Why don't you start ringing me up while I grab the dessert?" Hutch spoke over his shoulder, quickly grabbing both flavors of pie and bringing them back to the counter. Within moments, he was checked out and on his way back to the car, his thoughts filled with making a Thanksgiving dinner for his best friend -- on the Thanksgiving in which the word "thanks" couldn't do justice to the gratitude he felt.
The object of his gratitude stirred sleepily when Hutch slid inside the car and set the sack at his feet, then issued a jaw-cracking yawn and sat up a little. Taking note of his surroundings, Starsky asked hopefully, "Did you get us chili? I could go for a bowl of chili tonight."
Hutch frowned as he started the car. "Chili? No, I didn't get us chili. It's Thanksgiving, Starsk. Maybe not by much, but we still have a couple of hours of Thanksgiving left, and I'm going to make us a Thanksgiving dinner."
"You're jokin' me."
"No, I'm not. I've got it all in there." Hutch pointed to the sack.
"I can't believe it," Starsky said, bending over to get a look in the bag. "Thanksgiving dinner? The real thing?"
"Pretty close to the real thing, and I even got two kinds of pie."
"I never knew 7-11 carried turkeys," Starsky commented before closing his eyes again.
Hutch gulped. Turkey. Oh, no. He thought frantically for a few seconds, but could come up with no ideas on where to get a turkey at 10:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving night.
"Hey, Starsk?"
"Hm?" the sleepy voice answered.
"You like tuna, right?"
Two blue eyes opened wide, staring at Hutch as he smiled and headed the car for home.
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