By: Karen B.
Summary: Just a little snippet done in Starsky's pov.
I handed him my keys, then watched him drive away, taking with him a huge part of my life.
Saying goodbye wasn't easy. I'll never forget the first time we met. How I stood in awe of the power and connection we had. We'd been through a lot together. Shared joy. Shared the good times, the laughter, the fear and the grief. We shared long cold nights and quiet mornings. We'd been the butt of a lot of jokes, and the envy of strangers. We understood one another, that understanding helped me work through a lot of problems in my life.
I pictured one of our best days together. Taking a pleasure drive along an easy stretch of road near the shoreline. It was a sunny day. And the view of the ocean was clear. There was no traffic. No blood. No guts. No fear. No where to go. We just drove, not in any hurry to get anywhere. Me singing along to the radio with the warm California wind in my hair.
I didn't think it would be this hard to let go. In the years that whirl winded by I'd forgotten one very important fact. Nothing ever stays the same. So what do you do when it comes time to say goodbye?
I felt a comforting hand come to my shoulder, and I brushed away a tear from my eye. "I'm sorry, Starsk," Hutch said in that soft tone of his that always calmed my heart
"It's just a car, Hutch," I said, watching the tow truck haul away what had nearly been a fifteen year relationship. "Couldn't expect it too last forever." I reasoned.
Deep down I knew the Torino was more than chrome, steel, glass, and leather. We were kindred sprits.
How many times had she gotten me where I needed to go, as fast as I needed to get there? How many times did she cover my ass taking the bullets that should have taken me? Even when she couldn't cover my ass, she cradled my head safely in the rim of her tire.
It's ridiculous to think of a car in human terms, but as illogical as that is, I did think of her that way. I wondered what would happen to her now? Without me to care for her. I was going to miss the hell out of that car. The purr of the powerful engine. The smooth way she'd turn over every damn morning come rain or hell. Mostly, I was going to miss the way I'd shut her off after a long day's work. Shut myself off too, and just sit for a minute in silence, enjoying the way my hands felt on the steering wheel.
The tow truck turned the corner and the Torino fishtailed one last time, just for me. Guess that was her way of saying goodbye, and good luck.
"Come on, Gordo, I'll buy you a beer." Hutch let go of the grip he hand on my shoulder.
I turned to look at him. Sadly, one day we too would have to say goodbye. But not today. I stood silently a moment. For everything that car meant to me, this man standing at my side meant so much more.
"Thank you, Hutch."
How little those words seemed. It's not enough, but to Hutch it was.
He nodded. "Are you ready, Starsk?"
I cast one last glance down the street. "You got it, Blondie." I smiled, turning, and putting a hand on his shoulder. Side by side we walked back toward home.
Hutch always thought the Torino was nothing more than a sardine can, but he knew how I felt, and he understood. He understands it all. That's what best friends are for.
I looked across at my partner.
You know… the things you love are always with you. And in the end, we never really say goodbye.
If I knew nothing else, believing that, was enough.