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The next morning, there were whoops of laughter escaping from the greenhouse of Hutch’s apartment where the two detectives were entertaining their lady friends. Joyce was dressed in casual clothes for a change, and was sitting next to Starsky, who was in his usual blue jeans and favorite black shirt. Hutch, also dressed casually, had his arms linked around Maxine’s, thoroughly enjoying her company.

Joyce put a hand on Starsky’s thigh and tapped her fingers on his chest with the other. She seemed to have something on her mind. "David, I have been wanting to ask you a question."

"What’s that?" Starsky asked, playing with a ring on her little finger.

"Promise you won’t take this the wrong way."


"I’m not complainin’, mind you. I just gotta know. This black, white thing, are the two of you for real?"

Starsky thought for a moment. "Well, see, it’s like this. Hutch and I believe that love is blind, and so are we."

Everyone started to laugh.

"That’s color blind, Starsk, colorblind." Hutch corrected him.

"Yeah, that’s it." He acknowledged, a little embarrassed.

Maxine piped in. "So what we’ve got right here, isn’t this part of what the whole Civil Rights movement and Martin Luther King’s speech was all about?"

"What? Us creating our own little United Nation’s panel?" Hutch smiled at her, "That’s one way of looking at it," he said, kissing her hand.

"Well, if that’s the case, we’d better get started with negotiations." Starsky suggested with a leer. "We wouldn’t want to waste any time just sittin’ around, now would we?" He then placed a long, lingering kiss on Joyce’s lips.

Hutch and Maxine watched them for a second. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait for us!" he urged them.

With that, Hutch wrapped his arms around Maxine, and they kissed too, both couples making their own personal statement about what it might be like to live in a truly colorblind world.




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