Like Water, Like Fire

NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE Like Water, Like Fire A Starsky & Hutch bifictional zine, Like Water, Like Fire is an amateur publication produced by Kassidy, October 2005 Editors: Rae and Kassidy Artist/art director: Sonja and Kassidy Copyrights to individual stories and artwork revert to the authors/artists after October 2006 (one year after initial release). No stories or artwork may be used without permission. A special thanks to my friends Sonja and Rae. I could never have done this zine without your tireless work and encouragement. To my friend Sonja: I will never cease to be amazed at your creativity, your drive, and your support. You are nothing less than stupendous, and you hung in there through all the changes. I’d like to thank all of the authors for their talent, their hard work, and their belief in what I tried to accomplish. If you’d like an author or artist to know how you feel about their work, you can write me at [email protected] and I’ll forward it on. I also want to thank the authors and artist who allowed me to print their works in the “Best of the Net” section. Like Water, Like Fire features new writers, writers who have been with the fandom for years, and writers in between. The stories have no ratings and no warnings, other than the following: the zine is intended for mature audiences only, eighteen and older. There is violence, there is sex, and there is death; there are gen stories and slash. Scenes, episodes, and story arcs from the series have been borrowed and maybe even pummeled. So there you have it. Hope you’ll enjoy it. NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE Like Water, Like Fire My hands in ocean water Salt stinging, old as time You, touching me— Like a long, chilled drink Or a cool shower on a hot night Sound of ripples against the rocks on a beach Or a green waterfall in deep and secret woods Reviving my weary soul. No matter how far I venture You keep me afloat Hold me up Deep as the sea Eternally Me and thee. Light a candle The world glows warm and gold You look at me— Sunlight shimmering on the beach Crackling fire holding back cold night A lantern in the window A spotlight shining on hidden truths Warming the coldest parts of me. No matter how dark the night gets I won’t lose the path Fire and heat guiding Warmth of you is waiting Eternally Me and thee. ——by Verlaine and Kassidy NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE Like Water, Like Fire Table of Contents Merry, Merry..........................................................................................................................................1 The Smallest Sound ...............................................................................................................................5 White Rabbit ........................................................................................................................................21 In the Dying Light................................................................................................................................43 Undercurrents.......................................................................................................................................65 Till the Sun Breaks Down....................................................................................................................77 Lacuna..................................................................................................................................................87 The Mushroom Cloud........................................................................................................................105 Blue Haze...........................................................................................................................................199 CC’s Corner .......................................................................................................................................211 Best of the Net What If ...............................................................................................................................................215 Sweet Revenge...................................................................................................................................219 Broken Glass......................................................................................................................................227 Comes the Flood ................................................................................................................................237 Art by Selena......................................................................................................................................251 NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE Merry, Merry By Verlaine So it’s three days after Christmas, and I’m which comes out to the same thing. Hell, I sittin’ in my office next to the service bay, didn't sell him that piece of crap, no skin off havin’ a Coke and wonderin’ if I needed to call my nose, but still, no man with self-respect in some muscle to get money out of a few should be ridin’ round in something that people who seemed to think that car repairs pathetic. As I watched him haul himself outta should be a public service, when I heard this the driver’s seat, movin’ like my grandaddy’s noise. Like one of them old-time mastodons, daddy, I changed my opinion. The man suited getting sucked down in the tar pits, sounded the car. Hutchinson always was the whitest like. white man I ever saw, but those days even the I raised up to take a look out the window, tan looked off-grey, like somebody slapped a and yep, old mastodon. Or Hutchinson's car, sloppy first coat over the primer. He’d lost near NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE to twenty-five pounds since the day Starsky cane. Even from the office, I could see just went down, and I’d swear you’da needed how much of a job it was. bifocals to see him if he turned sideways. Just bein’ honest, I never believed he’d The hair was the worst. He’d chopped it all make it. Three bullets, infection, pneumonia, off, got one a them whitewall buzz-cuts. Last more infection—and then the day Brother time I seen him, the boy looked like some Dobey called to tell me he’d had the stroke. strung-out grunt. I know why he did it. Some little blood clot somewhere in all that Happened to me when my Lianne got the mess broke loose, and pretty well everythin’ cancer. You don’t have enough time, enough Starsky gained in two months was down the energy, enough attention to waste on things drain, just that fast. That was when Hutchinson that don’t matter. You need it all to do what cut his hair. you have to do to get through the days. Takes Starsky started for the door, Hutchinson too much to wash and brush and blow-dry all one step behind and a li’l to the right. The limp that blondness, so off it comes. was still pretty bad—he had to kinda lift the I watched him circle round the front of the leg partway and then drag it, instead of really car, stretchin' a little in the sun. He walked like takin’ a step—but at least he was on his feet a man who's holdin' a real heavy basketful of and movin’. There was bets down in a lotta bad stuff that'll break if he even twitches. When he places round town that Starsky would never got to the passenger door, he opened it up and walk again. Funny how some people you think leaned in for a few seconds, then stepped back woulda been the happiest to see him check out with both hands in the air. There was a little was also the ones who took the split in his smile on his face and it knocked me out, ’cause favor. Funny, but yeah, I get it. They wouldn’t I hadn't seen the boy smile like that in seven mind puttin’ the man down themselves, but it months. Even the last time he was here, he just just didn’t sit right that some little piece of barely managed to get his lips to curve to be dried blood too small to even see would do the polite, and it took so much work I felt bad, like job. Not on somebody like Dave Starsky. I'd added another glass brick to that basket he I got up and came out the door just before was carryin’. they reached it. “Merry, merry, boys. Lookin’ That smile shoulda told me what was good, there, Starsky.” There was grey in his comin’, but I still felt my breath catch when sideburns and black circles under his eyes and Starsky got outta the car. It was mainly the way he was so thin those usta-be-skin-tight jeans he got out. So slow, so much hard work. He hung off him like an old oil rag, but still I usta bounce, strut—float like Mohammed Ali could say it truthfully, ’cause even though he when he was really workin’ it. Now, left hand looked like somethin’ run off the road by a on the top of the door, first one leg lifted out, bulldozer, he wasn’t lookin’ dead, which those and then the other, and then slowly, slowly, his days was the only standard to go by. body straightened up. A long stop, just “Thanks, Merle. Merry Christmas.” He got balanced there, and then he shuffled away from his right hand up, and I took it to shake. There the car far enough for Hutchinson to shut the wasn’t much strength in the grip, and the door. fingers felt kinda stiff and cold, but it was a They stood there, leanin' together, like two shake. I gave him a pat on the arm too, real trees hit by a storm, and all that was holdin’ careful. I wasn’t sure how good his balance them upright was each other. Hutchinson bent was, and I knew for damn sure if he even his head down, like he was listenin’, and then stumbled, Hutchinson would tear my head off nodded. He stepped back just a little and let and stuff it in the diesel barrel. The old grin Starsky stand by himself, with nothin’ but his was a little lopsided. He sounded pretty good, 2 NOT AUTHORIZED FOR SALE though. L’il slur, but not so bad a stranger a team. You, me, and the tomato. Couldn’t would notice it right off. leave her out for the wrecker, could we?” “Merry Christmas, Merle.” Hutchinson “You hate my car.” gave me a handshake, too. Up close, he looked “It’s your car.” Hutchinson didn’t say a hell of a lot better than last time I saw him. anythin’ else, but I could hear it loud and clear. Still tired, still thin, but more like a honkie than I couldn’t save you, but I could save a zombie, if you take my meanin’.

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