For Ea

Spring Cleaning

By Amberle

"Hutch. Hutch. Hutch, wake up."

"Grummm, g'way, Starsk."

"Wake up, Hutch. It's Saturday!"

"Eve' more of a reason for you to g'way." Hutch burrowed farther under the covers until only the top of his head was showing.

"It's Saturday, March 28th, Hutch, and you promised." Starsky pulled the comforter and its accompanying sheet down to his partner's ankles.

"I didn't promise to get up," Hutch glanced at the clock, "at 7 a.m.!" He threw Starsky a half amazed, half annoyed look. "Are you out of your mind?" He reached down and tried to tug the bed covers away from him. "I'm going back to sleep, Starsk!"

Starsky grinned and yanked back hard; the quilt and sheet came off the bed, the mattress nearly lifting off the box spring as the covers slid out from underneath the mattress. "Your ass is mine today, Hutch." He began bundling the heavy covers into his arms. "And the sooner we get started, the sooner we finish. Now get up!"

Hutch swung his legs off the bed and slid his feet into his slippers. "Do I at least get breakfast first?"

"Yes, you get breakfast. I even made your green goop for you." He turned around, threw the blanket and sheet into the hamper and then turned back around again. Hutch was still sitting on the bed. "Move your ass, Blondie!"

Hutched glared at him, but rose to his feet. He crossed the room and exited into the hallway, muttering about the pain he wanted to inflict on bossy partners.

Starsky smiled as he watched Hutch leave the room. He then stripped the rest of the bed, picked the hamper up, and went downstairs to the laundry room set just off to the side of the kitchen.

As Starsky tossed the laundry into the washing machine, he felt a little stab of guilt for making Hutch do this on his day off, but then he quickly sent the feeling scurrying away. It was his birthday present, after all.

______________________________________

"You are, without any doubt, the best birthday present, ever." Starsky pressed several kisses to the back of Hutch's neck before he flopped down on the bed beside Hutch with a contented sigh.

"Oh, but there's more to this present than just me, babe." Hutch lifted himself up on one elbow to hover over his partner. His fingers tangled in Starsky's hair as he bent down to kiss him.

"More?"

"Yes, more. So do you want the rest of your present?"

"Are you kidding? Lay it on me, Blondie!"

Hutch laughed at his choice of words. "Okay, then." He kissed Starsky's forehead. "We have Saturday off." He kissed both of his partner's eyes. "I will do anything you want to do on Saturday." He kissed Starsky's mouth.

Starsky pulled back from him. "Anything?"

"Yes, anything."

"Are you sure about that, Hutch? Maybe you better think about it first…"

"I said anything, didn't I? I mean anything!"

Starsky crooked his little pinky between them. "Pinky swear?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Starsk!" Hutch rolled his eyes. "Okay, pinky swear." Hutch wrapped his little finger around Starsky's pinky. "I, Kenneth Richard Hutchinson, promise to do anything David Michael Starsky wants to do on Saturday, March 28th." He brought their entwined fingers up to his mouth and kissed them. "There. Satisfied now?"

"More than satisfied." Starsky kissed Hutch.

They lay together quietly as Hutch played with Starsky's hair, twirling and untwirling the curls between his fingers. "So do you know what you want us to do on Saturday? Or do you want to think about it?"

"No, I know what I want us to do."

"So what is it?"

Starsky stretched upwards to whisper in Hutch's ear.

Hutch closed his eyes and groaned loudly.

______________________________________

Starsky grabbed Hutch's breakfast plate from him and put it in the sink.

"You know, Starsk, maybe we should hire someone…"

Starsky cut him off. "Nope, nothing doing, pal. You promised to do anything today, and this is my anything. You want to be an Indian giver, then, and take my birthday present back?"

"No, of course not, but…"

"No buts allowed, Blondie." Starsky turned and slapped a pair of yellow latex gloves into Hutch's hands. "You get to do the bathroom first." He placed a hand on Hutch's back and shoved him toward the small room. "Cleaning stuff is under the sink."

"Oh, joy."

+ + + + +

Two and a half hours later, Starsky gave a final, satisfied swipe to the gleaming kitchen counter. Both the livingroom and the kitchen had been thoroughly re-organized, cleaned, dusted, and vacuumed. He threw the rag in his hand over his shoulder, opened one cabinet, took out an orange plastic tie from a box, tied up the garbage bag in the corner, and then carried the heavy plastic bag outside to the garbage can at the side of the house.

He glanced down at his watch when he re-entered the house. "Record time! Damn, you're good."

It then occurred to him that he hadn't heard Hutch in a long time. He knew that Hutch couldn't have taken all this time just cleaning the bathroom. Scowling slightly, he opened the bathroom door, but then found himself smiling. Hutch had done a thorough job. All of the tile was shining brightly, the tub and sink scoured clean, the shower curtain and liner replaced with the brand new ones he had bought only yesterday, and even the drippy faucet had been repaired. He closed the door behind him.

He frowned a few moments later after he opened the door to the den. Hutch was not there, and it was fairly obvious to him that Hutch hadn't even begun to clean it. There was a layer of dust everywhere and the books precariously piled on the bookcases hadn't been moved. Music charts and pieces of paper with Hutch's scribbled song lyrics were strewn all over the desk, mixed up together with several receipts.

"Hutch!"

No answer. That meant his partner could only be in one place. Starsky went out the back door and crossed over their yard to the small greenhouse that Hutch had built for his beloved plants. Just as he suspected, Hutch was there, a small water bottle in his hand, spritzing one of his gigantic ferns.

"Nice way to keep your promise, Hutchinson."

Hutch swung around, his expression changing from schooled innocence to guilty chagrin.

"Hey, Starsk. Umm, plants, you know, needed watering."

"Yeah, well, they're probably drowned by now, considering you've been watering them this long."

"Ah, come on, Starsk…"

"You promised, Hutch! The den should have been done by now!"

"It's not like it's going anywhere."

Starsky crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at him. "Do you need a reminder of what happens when you break promises, Hutchinson?"

Hutch raised placating hands. "Okay, okay. I'll go do the den."

Starsky waited for Hutch to walk back into the house before he followed him inside.

Hutch turned to him. "You know what, Starsk, I'm getting hungry…"

"You know, if this is the way you give me my birthday present, maybe I don't…"

"Geez, Starsk, I just said I was hungry!"

"You're also stalling." Starsky pointed at the open den door. "Den. Now."

Hutch's shoulders slumped in protest, but he went into the den. Starsky watched him from the doorway as he began to sift through the papers on the desk.

"Look, I'm going to clean up in here, okay? I don't need a babysitter!" Hutch picked up all of the music charts and began to put them in order.

"You'll need this." Starsky took the rag from his shoulder and threw it at his partner. The cloth hit Hutch in the middle of his chest and then dropped down to the desk. A tiny cloud of dust drifted upward.

Hutch sneezed as Starsky closed the door behind him.

Starsky went upstairs to clean the guest bedroom and his dark room, but not much needed to be done in either room. As he unplugged the vacuum and then it dragged into their bedroom, he wondered why Hutch never simply grasped the fact that if you just did a little cleaning everyday that you wouldn't need to do a massive cleaning job later on.

Starsky dusted and vacuumed their bedroom before he made up the bed. He then turned his attention to the closet, taking out the clothes he intended to throw out or cut up for rags. Almost all of his clothing hung neatly on hangers, but most of Hutch's clothes were on the floor. "Damn it, Hutch. It takes just as long to hang stuff up as it does just to drop it anywhere." He bent down to pick up Hutch's clothes, noticing that some of the clothing was stuff Hutch had promised to get rid of. He put the clothing Hutch intended to keep on hangers and then stuffed rest of them in a garbage bag.

As he was tying the bag closed, he heard a loud, crashing sound from downstairs, followed by Hutch's voice.

"Ah, shit!"

Starsky dropped the bag and bolted down the stairs into the den. Hutch was sitting on the floor in the midst of a tumbled pile of books, one hand pressed against the right side of his head. Starsky glanced at the bookshelf. The top two shelves were completely bare.

He knelt down in front of his partner. "You okay, Hutch?"

"Are you nuts? Of course, I'm not okay! I just got beaned by two tons of books!"

Starsky pulled Hutch's hand away from his head. He inspected the area, softly pushing the hair away. He found a small bump. "You'll live."

"Thanks for the sympathy, Starsk." Hutch rubbed his head again.

Starsky stood up and smirked down at him. "And whose books were stacked so badly that you got beaned with them, Blondie?"

Hutch muttered something. Starsky pretended not to hear.

"Whose?"

"Mine, okay! Point taken!"

Starsky smiled in satisfaction before he bent down slightly and helped Hutch to his feet. "Come on, I'll help clean them up. Then I'll make lunch." He bent over and picked up some of the books and slid them on the shelves.

+ + + + +

"So what do you want this afternoon? Garage or gutters?" Starsky asked as his put the last of the plates away in the cupboard.

Hutch shook his head. "Oh, no, buddy boy. I agreed to clean the den cause it was my mess in there." He pointed his finger at his partner. "The garage is your mess, so it's all yours."

Starsky bent down and opened the sink cabinet door and pulled out a pair of working gloves. "Gutters for you, then." He laid the gloves in Hutch's palm.

+ + + + +

Starsky went back upstairs to their bedroom. He stuffed one more item in the garbage bag before he took it outside to dump it into a can. As he turned toward the garage, Hutch passed him, carrying the extension ladder on one shoulder. Starsky smiled at him. Hutch didn't smile back.

An hour later, Starsky left the garage. There were a few oil stains on his shirt and on his hands. He didn't see Hutch or the ladder, so he just assumed that Hutch was cleaning out the gutters on the other side of the house.

Starsky went back inside the house and straight into the bathroom to wash his hands.

"Starsky!"

Starsky dropped the hand towel to the floor at the terror-filled shout and sprinted up the stairs.

"Starsky, help!"

Starsky swerved into the guest bedroom. He could see the bottom half of Hutch's body dangling outside the window. He shoved the window open. As he reached out to grab Hutch, he glanced down quickly and saw the ladder splayed out on the lawn. Starsky wrapped one arm about Hutch's thighs. He could hear Hutch's panicked breathing. "Hold on tight, Hutch! I've got you!" He tightened his grip. "You need to swing up and in a little more, Hutch!" His grasp tightened further as Hutch swung his legs upward. Using his other arm, he pulled Hutch's legs in through the window. "I've got you, Hutch. Easy now. I've got you."

Hutch slid down to the floor in a spineless heap, his breathing gasping and harsh. "Thanks."

"Are you okay, babe?" Starsky tilted Hutch's face upward so he could see his eyes.

Hutch nodded. "Next year," he pulled in a deep breath, "could you please pick a birthday present that's a little less harmful to my health?"

Starsky kissed his forehead. "I promise. How about we go swimming naked in the Everglades with some gators?"

Hutch grinned. "Much better."

Starsky pulled back from him. "I'm sorry, Hutch. I know how much you hate cleaning. I shouldn't have made you promise to do this."

"It was your birthday present to pick, Starsk." Hutch slid his fingers down Starsky's cheek. "I just wanted to show you that I'd be willing to do anything for you, babe."

"I've always known that." Starsky brushed Hutch's hair away from his face. He stood up and then reached down to pull Hutch to his feet. "I promise to never ask for this kind of birthday present again. Okay?"

"Okay."

Starsky slipped his arms around Hutch's waist. "There's just one more cleaning job left to do for today, though."

Hutch groaned and pulled away. "I think I'm all cleaned out."

Starsky grabbed Hutch's hand. "Don't worry. This is one cleaning job you won't mind." He brought Hutch's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Come take a shower with me?"

Hutch grinned at him. "Now that's the one cleaning job I'll gladly do."