Starsky tensed. A big frog crept out of the pond, its green-brown back covered with mud and algae. The more it approached the lying man, the bigger it grew. Starsky tried to draw back, but he wasn’t able to move. Bulging eyes were looking at him, and the frog croaked. “Kiss me!”


“What the heck?” Starsky exclaimed, and watched with horror, as the giant frog hovered over him, clicking its tongue.


 “Kiss me, and I’ll become a prince,” the frog said.


 “You don’t say! Story time is over!” Starsky hissed. In a last attempt, he tried to move away, but it was too late. A slippery tongue snaked out and the frog kissed him. Starsky yelped.


Soft lips closed over his. “You had a nightmare?” Familiar blue eyes looked down at him, and a hand pushed back damp strands off his forehead.


“A frog kissed me.” Starsky shuddered, remembering the dream.


“No, that was me, dummy,” Hutch smiled.


“He promised me to become a prince after I would kiss him.”


“Well, that’s where the frog is right, or do you want to deny that I’m the prince by your side?”


“No,” and Starsky pulled Hutch down and kissed him.




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