Work Text:
December 20, 1981
“Who was that?” Hutch asked as he tried with marginal success to clean up the powdered sugar that had glued itself to the kitchen counter.
“Huggy.” Starsky answered. “He’s got two people out with the flu and can’t make it tonight. Says he’ll see us later in the week, maybe bring over a Christmas breakfast to share.”
“Poor Hug. Let’s hope his staff doesn’t have another New Year’s flu -- Hey!” Hutch shooed Starsky away from the jelly donuts. “Those are for later. Can’t you wait?”
“Quality check.” Starsky grinned. “Can’t serve substandard paczki to our guests.” He swallowed the last of the treat and offered a jam smeared finger to his partner. “You did a great job with these, babe. Wanna taste?”
Hutch ignored the finger and pulled Starsky in for a kiss. “Not bad.” He kissed him again. “I think I prefer getting my sugar this way.” He gave him another kiss, followed with a light slap on the ass. “Go get showered, babe. The Ramoses will be here soon, so you need to start the latkes.”
As he watched that backside - now with a nicely placed powdered sugar handprint - disappear into the bedroom, Hutch sighed. Tonight was the culmination of nearly eight months of keeping a secret from Starsky and he was second guessing his plan. This could revive a year old pain for the man he loved and maybe he should have just left it alone. Starsky had. Why didn’t he do the same? Telling himself it was too late to back out now, he went back to deglazing the formica, but in his mind it was last year.
********
December 12, 1980
Hutch had found Starsky in the kitchen, wadding up a newspaper and stuffing it into a cardboard box. “Is that my Christmas present? Should I close my eyes?” he joked.
But there was none of the carol humming or cookie munching that usually accompanied Starsky’s holiday wrapping jobs. Starsky just kept his attention on whatever was in the box. Hutch knew that determined focus. It meant Starsky was trying to deal with some strong emotions. He moved behind his partner and put an arm around his waist, feeling the tension in Starsky’s frame. “Starsk, what’s going on?”
“Nothing… just.. packing this up to ship to Ma.”
Hutch peered into the box and saw the freshly polished menorah nestled in wads of paper.
“Why?”
“We were talking about Hanukkah. She said she’d thought about it and since it’s a family heirloom that Nicky should have it, so it could still get passed down to the next Starsky generation.”
Hutch was stunned. He knew Perla wasn’t happy with their relationship, but to take back the menorah? When a hostile mob had set fire to the synagogue, Starsky’s great-grandfather had defied man and flames to rescue it and the Torah. The Torah had been used to start a new congregation in a new land, but the menorah had stayed in the family, passed from father to first-born son. A legacy of bravery and dedication that his partner had lived every day on the streets.
“Oh, babe.” Hutch pulled him closer, pressing a kiss into the curls.
“No, she’s right. It’s the only heirloom the Starsky family’s got and it should be passed down. And since I’m not going to give her a grandson, Nick should have it. He’s doing great now. Ma thinks he’s going to propose to Candace soon, so it should go to him.”
As much as Hutch wanted to vent his opinion of Perla’s passive-aggressive tactics, he kept it to himself. He gave Starsky another hug. “I’m sorry, babe. I know what it represents, what it means to you. I never thought--”
“Hutch, don’t.” Starsky shook his head. “You didn’t cause this, so don’t start apologizing. To me, Ma asking for this back means she’s accepting that we’re real.” He paused, drew a deep breath and Hutch could feel Starsky letting go of the hurt his mother had caused, moving past it and getting on with life. Then Starsky turned in his arms to give him a quick kiss before adding, “Besides, you’re loads more fun to light up than a menorah. And it’s not like I’m giving up my car!”
Hutch went along with the change of subject, giving Starsky’s ass a smack. “Thanks. Nice to know I’m so highly prized.”
“Mmm.” Starsky wiggled against him. “Do that again.”
Hutch obliged, and Starsky started maneuvering them towards the bedroom. “Tell you what, you can show me all the ways you’re more fun than my car and maybe I’ll revise your ranking.”
Later, as Hutch was on the edge of sleep, Starsky quietly, almost to himself, said. “It’s not like I’m that religious or anything.”
“We can always buy a menorah. I know it won’t be a replacement, but we’ll have one of our own to use, if you want to.”
“Yeah… yeah, I guess so.”
“We can talk about it tomorrow. Go to sleep, babe.”
Starsky replied with an affectionate sounding mumble and then a light snore. Hutch whispered, “Thank you for choosing us,” into a curl-covered ear before falling asleep in Starsky’s arms.
But the discussion didn’t happen. The next day the DA’s office hired them to help secure convictions on four heavy cases. They barely had time for Christmas dinner with the Ramos family and a drink with Huggy at New Year’s, so it was February before Hutch noticed it. The empty spot on the desk. He’d been searching for the Super Glue to fix a basil pot when he realized they hadn’t replaced the menorah or even rearranged things to fill in the spot. It was like Starsky was waiting for it to come back.
He was almost on the phone, calling Nicky, before he stopped himself. Starsky had made a choice and had chosen Me and Thee. Getting involved could derail Starsky’s fragile detente with his family. After what his parents had done when told he and Starsky were in love and now partners in everyway, Hutch couldn’t - wouldn’t - try reconnecting with his own family. Starsky had respected his decision and stayed out of the mess. Hutch would give him the same respect.
He could go to one of the Judaica stores and buy a new one, but a mass-manufactured piece just felt wrong - unworthy. Hutch decided he’d talk to Starsky just one more time before dropping the subject and went back to his basil rescue. As he reached for a new pot, he stopped, stared at the ring on his right hand and got an idea.
*********
December 20, 1981
Hutch had showered, dressed and was slipping on his shoes when he heard their anemic excuse for a doorbell. Starsky yelled, “Get the door, Blintz. I’m creating masterpieces here!”
Kiko, Molly and Maria Ramos were welcomed in. They spent a few moments trying to arrange things without making Starsky suspicious, but his “You guys are awfully quiet. What’s going on out there?” proved them wrong.
“Those hash browns smell amazing. When do we eat?” Molly dashed into the kitchen to keep Starsky distracted while Kiko helped his mom unpack the surprise.
“I’ll have you know that these are not hash browns, they’re latkes-- Hey! Those are for later!”
With Starsky busy, Hutch quickly finished the setup for candle lighting and said, “She’s right, they smell delicious, so bring them out and let’s eat.”
Molly appeared, carrying the tray of toppings and licking jam off her upper lip. As Starsky tried to follow her, Hutch stepped in front of him. “Whats’a’matter, Blondie? You got a sudden nostalgia for your traffic cop days? Let me by, this is hot,” Starsky wisecracked.
Hutch waited until he had Starsky’s full attention. “I love you, David Starsky.” He whispered and was rewarded with a beaming smile, “and I--I hope you like your Hanukkah gift. It’s from all of us.” Taking the platter from him, he stepped aside so Starsky could see his present.
Hutch watched the dark brows draw together as Starsky processed what he was seeing. An exquisitely crafted menorah sat on their table. Shaped like a tree, its roots were separate dark copper and pale silver strands which reached toward each other to create the trunk. As they moved up, the two metals entwined together, parted here and there, then came together, parted and merged again. Some lines ended in scars or spiked away as broken branches; there, the contrasting metal would wrap itself around the injury before returning to the trunk, bringing its partner back with it. Nine branches formed the top, eight with a furled leaf candle holder and finishing with a copper squirrel holding the shamash.
Mrs. Ramos broke the silence, “David, it is okay? Did I make a mistake? Rabbi Cahana said--”
“Maria, you made this?!”
“Si--yes, Ken drew designs for me to follow and I went to the rabbi, just to be sure it was... Kosher?”
“It’s perfect. It’s beautiful, just like you.” He gathered her up into a hug. “Thank you! You’re an incredible artist, and probably a little bit of a saint to put up with my partner during all that.”
She smiled. “While he sketched out his ideas, Ken would talk about the life you’ve had together. The stories were ilumina--” she paused for a second, searching for the right word. “Inspiring! Work and fun. The good and bad. Together. This is how I got the idea for la asociacion, ah, the partnering of the metals. Stronger together, strong for each other.”
Starsky looked back over his shoulder at his partner. “That’s my Hutch. He can bring light to dark places.” Shining indigo eyes told Hutch everything that Starsky couldn’t find the words for.
Kiko broke the spell. “Rabbi Cahana said it was a piece of art and asked if she’d create one for their temple!”
Hutch handed out the yarmulkes and bobby pins. “The rabbi is right, Maria,” he said as she deferred the cap in favor of her own lace shawl. “This is art. They waste your talent having you just doing jewelry repair. If you ever want to open your own place, you’ll have our support.”
Starsky secured his own yarmulke, then helped Molly and Kiko with theirs before turning to assist Hutch. Done, he cradled Hutch’s face in his hands, gave him a gentle kiss and a raspy heartfelt “Thank you.” After a quiet moment between them, Starsky turned back to their guests.
“Alright, let’s set stuff on fire!” He struck a match to light the shamash. “Hanukkah isn’t really a major holiday for Jews. But it commemorates bravery and resilience in the face of overwhelming odds and having faith that miracles can happen. It’s also about coming together, taking pride in our history and traditions and celebrating that with family and friends. I…” Starsky’s voice choked off, but he cleared his throat and continued on, strong and upbeat. “I can say that I understand that now more than ever. Thank you for being here with us tonight.”
He reached for Hutch’s hand and together they lit the first candle.