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"Zebra 3 to Control. Come in, please."
"Control. Go ahead Zebra 3."
"Be advised to cross-check the description of the suspects against...uh," Hutch felt his lips twitch, unbidden, "any and all seafaring men."
It earned him a look from the seat next to him, as he knew it would.
"Come again, Zebra 3?"
As Hutch opened his mouth to respond, Starsky wrapped his fingers around the hand holding the mike, and deftly brought it up to his lips.
"Have to forgive Hutch, Control, his funny bone just got hit." He squeezed down on the fingers beneath his, watching the sudden facial gymnastics it brought out in his partner.
"What Sherlock here meant to say was to check the description against anyone who might be a sailor, navy or otherwise." He paused and smiled at his partner, whose hand was still held -- too firmly, judging by Hutch's writhings -- under his on the mike.
"Anything you want to add here?" He squeezed again for good measure and then, much to Hutch's relief, eased off.
"Roger that, Zebra 3. Over and out."
"Ten four." Starsky dropped the mike back and calmly looked over at Hutch, who was now shaking the feeling back into his left hand.
"Not nice, Starsk."
"Yeah, well," grinned Starsky equitably, "don't make fun when my stomach's this empty."
Hutch stopped shaking his hand. Starsky's tone was sunny enough, and nothing in his profile seemed out of place. But Hutch was aware that he still occasionally tripped over Starsky's lines of tolerance. He looked out the windshield. Starsky appeared in no hurry to leave.
"Have you know, Starsk, Hemingway was considered a man among men."
"He was, huh?" Starsky fought the urge to smile. The dig hadn't actually bothered him, he was simply contemplating what he wanted to eat. Still, it was worth getting some mileage out of, especially since Hutch's desire to make amends for coming across as superior was really kind of endearing.
"Yeah," Hutch, oblivious, began to warm to his subject. "He drank like a fish, fished like his life depended on it, had women that you and I can only dream of -- and still found time to write some of the greatest books in the English language. You know, this one time, they say-"
Twisting the keys in the ignition, Starsky smiled and let Hutch's enthusiasm wash out the point of it all in the first place. Nothing wrong with a little passion for the good things in life. He had his watches, he could let Hutch have his brains.
******