"If we were to make out."
"If we were to make out, what?"
"No, I was correcting your grammar—"
"—so you’d say it again."
"Say what again?"
“'If we were to make out.'”
A philosophical discussion with Jeremy prompts Casey to consider the nature of his relationship with Dan.
Starsky discovers how much Hutch likes cowboys.
They construct things together — crazy schemes, hypotheses, the still. They defuse things together — bombs, situations, arguments. They throw things — parties, tantrums, grenades into fields and away from camp. They play poker, they play checkers with gin shots, they play golf by the minefield, they play house — here, I made you a nice cup of tea.
That was the thing with Starsky. Hutch might sneak in the occasional “I love you” under cover of a “but” thrown in for insurance. Starsky never said it. But if you looked for it, if you could keep your eyes and your heart open to it, his actions spoke for him. Right now his actions were yelling.
Hawkeye, blinking, found himself on the back foot — not a position he was familiar with. More than that, he was at a loss for words and somewhat breathless. This was venturing into new territory between them. Virgin soil, so to speak. He decided it best to take a conversational leaf out of Trapper’s book and keep it simple.
Trapper opens his big mouth.