Starsky wondered if Hutch would really like his birthday present.

“Is it big or small?” Hutch looked around.

“It’s small, and if you come near the hiding place, I say “hot”. Otherwise, it’s “cold”. Start your search.”

Hutch played along, looking under the coffee table.

“Cold.”

He neared the window.

“Cold.”

Hutch went to the front door.

“Cold.”

“What about here?” Hutch removed the books from the shelf.

“Cold.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hutch growled, coming in Starsky’s direction.

“Hot.”

Hutch took the next step.

“Hot.”

When inches apart, Starsky whispered, “Hotter.”

Their lips met, and Hutch smiled. “Gotcha!”

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