Author:  Rebelcat 

Rating: PG, for implied stuff kiddies aren't supposed to know about (but often do, darn them!)

Category: Double drabble.

Disclaimer: They ain't mine.

Thanks To:  EH, who gave it a quick scrub.

Episode:  The Specialist

Dedicated to:  ~e, who once posted this line (which I'm taking utterly out of context):  "For me, having Starsky and Hutch sharing a bubble bath, is gay."  Except, of course, when it isn't.  Thank you for the teeny wee and somewhat soggy plot bunny!

Mr. Bubbles





“Hey, Starsk . . . ?”


He didn’t answer.  He was almost entirely underwater, only the tip of his nose and a damp mop of curly hair showing above the surface.  His eyes were closed and though I couldn’t see it, I’m sure he had a disgustingly contented smile hidden under the bubbles.


I kicked his leg and after a moment he reluctantly emerged, dripping water and foam.


“What?” he snapped.  “I’m relaxin’!”


“What do you think’s taking her so long?”


“She said she had a surprise for us . . .”  His voice trailed off uncertainly.


“Move over,” I said.  I pulled my leg out from where it was trapped beneath his thigh and then used the top of his head to steady myself as I climbed out of the bath.


“She ditched us!”


I was seriously pissed.  And cold.


Starsky stayed in the water where it was warm, looking around the bathroom.


I could understand the first time - Sally wanted to prove that she was as tough as any other cop by throwing us around her livingroom.


But this time she was just being a tease.


“Hey, Hutch . . .?”


“What?” I snapped.  This was all his fault.  Him and his threesome fantasies . . .


“Where are our clothes?”