Title: Explanations

Author: Susan Proto

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch, of course!

Pairing: Starsky and Hutch

Rating: PG-13 for language

Status: New/Complete

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Absolutely! It's gratefully accepted at: STPteach@aol.com

Critique: Accolades, yes! <G> Constructive thoughts, yes! Flames, no!

(One of these days I'll get these all connected...<sigh>)

Disclaimers: No, they still don't belong to me. Starsky & Hutch, as well as Dobey, belong to Spelling/Goldberg productions, David Soul, Paul Michael Glaser, and Bernie Hamilton.

Summary: "Hutch looked at him and retorted, 'Yeah, right. C'mon, Starsk - where's the 'ho-ho-ho'? Where's the Santa hat?' Where's your smile, he thought to himself."

Classification: StarskyAngst ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Explanations

By Susan Proto

December 25th

Hutch sat in the car, drumming his fingers, and bracing himself for the onslaught of Christmas cheer that he knew was coming on this holiday morning. Once again, as kind of a gift to their fellow officers with families, Hutch and Starsky had volunteered to work the holiday week with the promise of a week off during a less hectic time of year.

So, still feeling an obvious impatience with his partner's delayed appearance, Hutch's fingers moved toward the steering wheel to honk his horn; to hell with the fact that it was only 7:13, Christmas morning.

A door slammed and Starsky's appearance saved the beauty sleep of nearby neighbors, but there was something about the man that disturbed Hutch.

Starsky slipped quietly into the passenger seat and then said,

"Thanks for picking me up. The Torino was making that funny sound again, but with this being Christmas day and all, I knew Merle wouldn't be around to look at it. I'll get it checked out tomorrow."

"What's going on?" Hutch asked curiously.

"Nothing." He said it quickly. Too quickly.

Hutch looked at him and retorted, "Yeah, right. C'mon, Starsk - where's the 'ho-ho-ho'? Where's the Santa hat?" Where's your smile, he thought to himself.

"Not now, Hutch." He said it quietly, but his voice was rough.

"Hey, buddy? This is Hutch, remember? What's got you upset?"

Starsky turned away and simply shook his head. He knew that if his partner pursued that line of questioning he was going to lose it for sure. He was determined for that not to happen.

Hutch decided to bide his time. When Starsky was ready to talk, he would. Of course, he realized with a wry smile, once that happened he probably wouldn't be able to get the man to shut up.

A little while later they arrived at the station. As they were getting out of the car, Starsky called out, "Hutch?"

"Yeah, Starsky?"

"When we get our week off, maybe we should ask the captain for a few extra days."

"Yeah?"

Starsky nodded.

Hutch remained quiet and waited for his partner to elaborate.

"It's been a while, ya know, since I've been back to New York."

"Starsky?" Hutch said anxiously as he kept in mind Starsky's apparent dark mood. "Is everything all right? Your mom - ?"

"Ma's fine," Starsky replied quickly. "Really, Hutch. She's fine." And then added quietly under his breath, "Spoke with her this morning,"

He looked up at his partner and said, clearly, "I haven't seen her in a while. Just thought it would be a good idea. You come with me, okay? Then, if ya want, I'll come with you and be the buffer between you and your folks, okay?"

"My folks? You want to go to Minnesota?" Hutch was confused. He wondered to himself, what the hell was bringing this all on?

"No - I mean, yeah. What I mean is, I want _you_ to go to Minnesota, to see your folks. I know that's not exactly your favorite pastime, so I figured if I went with you, it might make it more palatable, ya know?"

"Oh. Gee, Starsk, I don't know…"

"Ya should go see your parents."

"Are you sure your mom's okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." At Hutch's skeptical expression, Starsky reassured him, "She really is okay." When Hutch nodded his acceptance of that, Starsky quickly said, "So we'll go? We'll go see Ma and then your folks?"

Hutch had no idea as to what the hell had gotten into his partner, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. For now, he realized that it was important to Starsky that he made the commitment right then and there, so he did. "Yeah, Starsky, we'll go see our folks."

The sigh of relief and the first, albeit slight, smile on Starsky's face that morning told Hutch he'd done the right thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was blissfully quiet all morning. Apparently even the two-bit hoods decided to take Christmas morning off, so Starsky and Hutch took the opportunity to catch up on the dreaded paper work and give Captain Dobey another Christmas gift, all of their overdue reports.

When they'd finished the last of them, they knocked on the Captain's door.

"Come in," he barked.

"Hey, Cap. Got something for you," said Hutch as he proffered the multiple reports.

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

"Reports. Lots and lots of reports," answered Hutch, again, as Starsky remained quietly standing to the side.

"Humph!" Dobey grunted, "'bout time!" The captain finally looked up from the multitude of paperwork and quickly glanced at the pair standing before him. Something wasn't right, though he wasn't able to put his finger on it until he looked directly at his officers.

"You feeling okay, Detective?" he asked Starsky in his usual, direct manner.

Starsky startled ever so slightly; his mind was elsewhere, so he wasn't expecting the cap to address him. When he recovered he said, simply, "Yes, Captain, I feel fine."

Which of course is when Dobey, typically a gruff sort with an extremely large soft spot for the two detectives standing in his office, knew something was wrong. David Starsky never answered a direct question with a direct answer. He made jokes; he deflected; he ignored you, but he never actually answered you. Dobey glanced over at Hutchinson, who gave a slight shrug. Dobey nodded at the blonde's acknowledgment that he knew something was up but didn't have any more of an understanding of what the hell was going on than the captain had.

"Okay, you two. It's quiet for now. Go take your lunch, and bring me back something halfway decent to eat. And not from the damn cafeteria, you hear me? Go out and get something decent," and then he looked pointedly at Hutch. "And if it takes you all afternoon to find me something decent to eat, you take it. You understand?"

Hutch clearly understood, so he nodded and pointed to the door. Starsky left the office but before Hutch followed suit, he turned, smiled and said, "Thanks, Cap."

"Find out what's eating him, Hutchinson. I can't have my best detectives in anything but top form, right?"

"Right, Cap."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There weren't too many places opened for business on Christmas day. They saw a couple of Chinese restaurants, but Starsky said he wasn't in the mood. Finally, they settled on the corner diner; it wasn't much of a step above the cafeteria food, but if nothing else it would be served in abundance.

The two men settled into a corner booth at the back of the restaurant. The waitress brought over menus and a couple of glasses of water. "Know what you want?"

"Give us a minute, okay?" Hutch asked.

"Sure. Anything to drink while you're looking?"

"Yeah, a coke," answered Hutch.

"Make it two," said Starsky.

The waitress nodded and went to retrieve the sodas.

"I think I'll have a burger," said Hutch. "How 'bout you?"

"Not very hungry."

"C'mon, Starsky, it's not often the captain tells us to go out for lunch. Let's take advantage of it, okay?"

Starsky shrugged.

The waitress returned with their drinks and said, "You want to know the specials?"

Hutch replied with an enthusiastic, "Sure."

"Well, the soup of the day is Chicken Noodle, the entrees are lamb chops or eggplant parmesan, and they both come with the soup or a salad, and a vegetable or spaghetti."

"Hey, the lamb chops sound good, Starsk."

"Eggplant," he countered. "I'll take the eggplant, with the spaghetti. You want the salad, Hutch?" At his partner's nod, Starsky added, "And the salad."

The waitress said thanks and left to place their order.

The partners sat and chatted idly while they waited for their food, though it was more of Hutch chatting and Starsky nodding or shaking his head every now and then. Hutch was ready to blow when their waitress made an appearance with their food. "Thanks," said Hutch, grateful that he now had a diversion from sullen partner.

He reached for the salad and asked, "Starsk, you want some of this?"

Starsky shook his head and said, "Nah, too healthy for my tastes."

Hutch looked up with a surprised expression. He wondered, was that a joke, Detective Starsky? He smiled to himself; Starsky was starting to loosen up, and Hutch knew it was only a matter of time before the dam opened up.

"This don't smell too bad," said Starsky, as he picked up his fork to pick up a piece of eggplant.

"Good. Enjoy."

Starsky took a bite. "Don't taste too bad either." Hutch nodded as he ate his salad.

A few minutes passed when the dam began to crack.

"Ever wonder why a nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn gets so into celebrating the Christmas season?"

Hutch stopped eating and laid his fork down. "Well, now that you mention it, the question did cross my mind a time or two."

Starsky smiled. He put his fork down as well, thought a moment or two, and then began.

"We didn't live in the typical Jewish neighborhood, ya know?"

"No?"

"Nah. Dad couldn't afford any of the houses on Long Island or Queens on his cop's salary. Even the Flatbush section of Brooklyn was out of our league. Drove Grandma Esther crazy in more ways than one, apparently."

"Crazy? Why would it drive your grandmother crazy?"

Starsky laughed. "C'mon, Hutch, surely you've heard the Jewish Mother's Creedo, 'My son, the doctor,' right? How often have you heard a Jewish mother brag, 'My son, the cop'?" Starsky laughed a bit at that. "No matter what Grandma Esther did or said, she couldn't get Pop to change his mind. She tried real hard to guilt him into changing jobs after I was born. Ma told me Grandma really rode Pop hard, but he stood firm. It was something he'd wanted to do all his life; he was born to be a police officer."

Hutch smiled. Like father, like son, he thought to himself.

"So she'd begged him to at least move into a better neighborhood, but he refused to do that either," continued Starsky, "'cause Dad decided he wanted to live in the same neighborhood as his beat. He just figured it would make it that much easier to be a good cop if he knew the neighborhood and the neighbors knew him. He was right, ya know. The neighborhood loved him, Hutch. They felt like they had their own personal cop, twenty-four hours a day." Starsky smiled a bit at the memory of dad.

"Anyway, so I wasn't exactly exposed to a whole lotta Jewish culture, ya know? I mean, we were observant of the holidays, but we never kept kosher or anything like that. We observed the big holidays, like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Passover was a biggie in our house, too, and of course Hanukah. We kids never let Ma and Pop forget Hanukah."

"So, how did you start celebrating Christmas?" asked Hutch curiously.

"Auntie Mac," he responded softly, but in a tone that spoke of it being the most obvious answer in the world.

"Auntie Mac?"

"Yeah, Maria Maciarola," he explained, in a voice that was almost reverent. "She always said God had a real sense of humor when He made her fall in love with a man whose last name was a mouthful like Maciarola. Mr. Mac died almost a year earlier from cancer, and she ended up having to move, because she couldn't afford the apartment she'd been living in. So, when I was around eight, she moved into the apartment next door to ours. She had two kids, George and Karen, around the same ages as Nick and me."

"You guys become friends?" asked Hutch.

"Friends wasn't the word for it. Ma kind of adopted Auntie Mac and the kids, and she did the same for us. It got to a point where we were always at each other's apartments. No matter what the holiday or celebration, we were together. We used to love it when they came to our Passover seders; George and Karen would ask all of the questions that Nicky and I were too embarrassed to ask. You know, us being Jewish and all, we figured we were supposed to know the answers already, though how was anyone's guess since we didn't go to Hebrew school, or anything.

"Anyway," continued Starsky, "they'd ask the questions and Dad was pretty good at knowing the answers. I think he'd always known that Nicky and I hadn't had a clue either, so he'd make sure that we were listening real carefully, too."

"Sounds like you all got along real well."

"Yeah, we did. When Auntie Mac decided she had to get a full-time job, Ma said she'd be home for George and Karen after school. And she never took no money for babysitting either, no matter how many times Auntie Mac offered. Even when one of her kids was sick, Ma would just have them come over and stay on the couch in our place. Ma just kept saying she was gonna be home for her own two hoodlums, what was a couple of more to deal with?"

Starsky smiled at that particular memory. He remembered his mom used to call him her very own 'Dillinger' after the famous outlaw, what with all of the innocent trouble he'd get himself into. Of course it had never occurred to her that one day she'd have to worry that he really would fall prey to the streets.

"So, the only way Auntie Mac could figure out how to repay Ma was by feeding us. All the time. Whenever she'd make a tray of lasagna or eggplant for her family, there was always an extra one in the oven for us. And when Christmas time came, we were never wanting for cookies or chocolate Santas, that's for sure. But the best was Christmas Eve, 'cause we'd all go over to Auntie Mac's apartment and she'd serve this real traditional fish meal with the lasagna and eggplant appetizers and God, Hutch -! We'd eat ourselves silly. Then, after dinner, we'd help decorate the tree. She always said she needed Nicky and me to help with the decorations for the top of the tree 'cause we were taller than George and Karen and of course Auntie Mac was about five foot nothing, ya know?"

Hutch had to smile at this. No, of course he hadn't known, but he did now. The memories were pouring out of his friend's mouth, and the dam was about ready to flood. He couldn't help but wonder where this was all going to lead.

"Sounds like Aunite Mac's real good people, Starsk."

"Yeah. She was a real good support for Ma when Pop was - was killed, ya know? She'd been there and knew the pitfalls and stuff with insurance and bills and what needed to be done. But she was there for her when Ma just needed a shoulder to cry on, too. Auntie Mac really came through for Ma when she needed her."

Starsky was pensive for a minute or two. He picked up his fork and played with the melted cheese a bit, but didn't bring any of it to his mouth. He replaced the fork on the table.

"Her kids did real good, too, Hutch."

"Oh? How so?"

"Karen's a kindergarten teacher in Manhattan and George, well, George is the answer to my Grandma Esther's dream. He's a doctor at Mount Sinai."

"No kidding?"

"No kidding. Ma always said that somehow God must have mixed up their babies, though we always knew she was kidding. But I tell ya, Ma's just as proud of George and Karen as Auntie Mac."

"I bet she is. She has good reason to be; she apparently helped raise 'em. Then again, Auntie Mac has good reason to feel proud of the kid she helped raise too, doncha think?" Hutch looked at his partner pointedly.

Starsky knew what Hutch meant. It was at that moment the floodgates chose to open and Starsky's eyes welled up.

"Starsk? What is it?"

"Ma called this morning," he said in a voice that was barely a whisper. "Auntie Mac passed away a few days ago and she'd gone to her funeral yesterday. She didn't want to tell me because she knew how hard it was for me to get time off, and George and Karen didn't want me to worry or nothing. I should have been there, Hutch. I owed Auntie Mac that much. I should have been there."

There it was. The woman who opened his eyes to the joys of the holiday season passed away without his being able to say goodbye. No wonder celebrations were the last thing on his mind.

"I'm sorry. She sounds like she was someone I would have wanted to know."

"Yeah, Hutch. She would have loved you, too, ya know?"

They both smiled at that. Yeah. Love me, love my partner. They really were a matched set, weren't they?

"Listen, Starsk, I'm not a Catholic, but I don't see why we couldn't go to St. Mary's and maybe go light a candle for Auntie Mac. Maybe we could ask the priest to say a prayer for her, or something."

Starsky nodded at that. "Thanks, Hutch. Yeah, I think I'd like to do that. Um -." His hesitation was obvious, and Hutch knew that what he wanted to say was not going to be easy for his friend.

"What is it, buddy?"

"I don't know if it's even allowed…" he said softly.

"If what's allowed?" prompted Hutch.

"I want to go to Temple and say Kaddish for Auntie Mac."

"Didn't you once tell me that the word death was never even mentioned in that prayer? You said that the Kaddish was more of a prayer for the living than for the dead, right?"

"Right." Starsky visibly relaxed. "Right. Would you come with me?"

"Of course." Hutch picked up a french fry, which by now had turned cold and limp. He put it in his mouth anyway and chewed. He was thinking and finally said, "After we go to the church and the temple, we'll talk to Dobey about those extra days off, okay?"

Starsky smiled. The tears still glistened in his eyes, but the Starsky smile had returned. "Thanks, Hutch."

"Merry Christmas, Starsk."

"Merry Christmas, Hutch."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And a very happy and healthy holiday season to you all.