Aftershock

1.1K

The confrontation after Kira.

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“Hello?” Hutch answered the phone with urgency in his voice.

“Hutch? It’s Huggy. He’s here.”

“Oh, Hug. Thanks. I’ll be right there. Don’t let him leave, huh?”

“Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere.”

Hutch hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch. He felt for the keys in the pocket and took them out as he slammed the door to his apartment. He ran down the steps and out into the dark night. Jumping into his car and starting it almost all in one move, he barely got the door shut before he threw it in drive and headed toward The Pits.

When he arrived, about five minutes later, his heart sank, as he didn’t see the red Torino outside of the bar. “Damn,” he whispered, thinking his partner had left. He parked the car and got out anyway, hoping Huggy would at least know where Starsky had gone.

Huggy met him at the door. “Hey, Hutch. He’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Oh, God, he’s still here, right?” Huggy nodded. “I didn’t see his car. I thought maybe he figured out I was coming and left.”

“He didn’t drive his car here, man. I don’t know how he got here. He’s not real coherent, that’s for sure. I think he hit quite a few bars before he showed up on my doorstep.” Huggy opened the door a little further for Hutch, and the tall blond stepped inside. He scanned the restaurant for his friend, and found him slumped over a table in the back corner, apparently passed out.

Hutch moved quietly toward the dark-headed form and felt a lump grow in his throat. As he approached the table, he muttered under his breath, “Aww, Starsk.”

Starsky lifted his head from the table and bleary eyes blinked at the approaching man. He couldn’t quite focus on who was coming close to him and thought for an instant it might be the white light he’d heard so much about. Surely anyone who felt as bad as he did couldn’t live much longer.

The approaching form finally reached the table and Starsky looked up. Blinking, the all-too-familiar face came into focus momentarily, and Starsky dropped his head back down on the table.

“Uhhh, ‘Utch, ‘s only you.”

“Yeah, it’s me, buddy. I’m gonna take you home.” Hutch sat down in a chair at the table and touched his partner’s hand lightly.

A mumble that sounded something like “I don’t want to go home,” escaped from beneath the slumped-over mess on the table.

“Come on, buddy, let’s go.” Hutch reached under Starsky’s head and lifted him by the chin. Starsky looked up at him blankly.

“I don’ wanna go wit you. Mean-you’re mean.”

“Starsk,” Hutch began, but then changed his mind. No point arguing with him right now. He couldn’t possibly fight Hutch in this condition; it was just going to be a matter of lugging the limp form out of the restaurant and into the car.

He sat Starsky up completely in the chair, steadying him with his right hand and slipping his left arm under Starsky’s. Slowly he lifted him out of the chair. He considered picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder, but thought better of it.

“Can you walk a little, Starsk?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“All right then.” Hutch began the long trip across the floor, dragging Starsky most of the way. Starsky was able to move one foot in front of the other, but his whole weight was leaning on Hutch.

“Don’ wanna go. Wanna stay here. Huggy’s my friend. You’re not my friend anymore.”

“Oh, Starsk.” Hutch stopped momentarily and looked down at his partner.

“Hey, Starsky,” Huggy said as he held the door open for the two of them. “You be good for Hutch. He’s gonna take care of you now.”

“No.”

“Yes,” Hutch answered as he continued dragging him out the door.

“You got it OK?” Huggy asked.

“Yeah, Hug. Thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“OK, Blondie. Just take care of him. Got a feeling he’s got a hard day ahead of him tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

Hutch dragged Starsky to the car and steadied him against the rear passenger’s door as he opened the front door for him. He guided Starsky into the seat and closed the door. Starsky slumped over sideways and his head landed in the driver’s seat.

Hutch opened the driver’s door and lifted the curly head enough so that he could slide in behind the wheel. He positioned Starsky so that he was leaning on his shoulder and began the drive back to his apartment.

“No,” Starsky kept muttering into Hutch’s shoulder as they drove. “No.”

Hutch didn’t say anything. He stared blankly out into the dark city streets, glancing down occasionally at his partner.

Finally, they pulled up in front of Venice Place. Hutch debated bringing Starsky to his own apartment, but thought he’d stand a better chance of talking to him at his place, especially considering Starsky had no mode of transportation and couldn’t kick him out of his own apartment.

Hutch parallel parked his car in his usual space. “We’re here, Starsk. You OK?”

“Nmph,” was the only answer.

“Gotta climb some steps, buddy. You ready?’

“Nmmmph.”

“That’s what I thought. Come on.” Hutch pushed Starsky all the way over so he was leaning against the passenger’s door. He got out of the car and walked around to Starsky’s side. He took a deep breath and looked at his sleeping partner for a moment. ‘Oh, God, Starsk, I’m sorry,’ he thought to himself as he carefully opened the door a crack, sticking his hand in first to steady Starsky so he didn’t fall out onto the pavement.

Hutch opened the door all the way and crouched down to help Starsky out of the car. The air hit the darker man’s face and he opened his eyes completely. Looking around, he finally focused on Hutch.

“What are you gonna do to me now?” he asked.

“I’m going to take you upstairs and put you to bed.”

“Oh, no, you’re not. I’m gonna go home without you. I don’t want you. You’re mean.”

“Starsk…”

“Shut up, Hutch-just shut…”

Apparently being coherent for even 10 seconds was too much of a strain for Starsky in his drunken state as his head rolled forward and he appeared to pass out again.

“Starsk?” Hutch lifted his partner’s head. “Oh, terrific.”

Hutch reached in and grabbed Starsky by the legs, steadying his upper torso with his other hand. He swung his legs around and decided the only way he was going to get upstairs was to just sling the lifeless form over his shoulder. He leaned in the car and placed his shoulder against Starsky’s middle, wrapping his left arm around his back. Gently he lifted his partner out of the car and kicked the door shut with his foot.

Starsky didn’t move as Hutch carried him across the sidewalk and opened the door to his apartment building. Hutch walked through the doorway and shut the door. He stood in the entryway for a minute and eyed the flight of stairs he was going to have to carry Starsky’s limp body up. He knew he had to do it and silently prayed for strength.

Just then Starsky came to for a moment. “Oh, God,” he mumbled. “The world’s upside down.”

Hutch let out a little laugh at Starsky’s observation and started the climb up the steps.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“The world is upside down.” The impact of what his partner said stopped Hutch cold.

The world was indeed upside down at the moment.

“I know, buddy. But we’re gonna fix it,” he answered and continued climbing the steps.

“Oh, good.”

Hutch finally reached the top of the steps and opened his apartment door, remembering he hadn’t thought to lock it when he left in such a hurry. He carried Starsky over to his couch and gently laid him down. Hutch removed Starsky’s blue sneakers and unbuckled his belt and pants. He then lifted him up a little in order to take off his brown leather jacket. Once the jacket was off, he unbuttoned a few buttons on Starsky’s shirt so the collar wouldn’t choke him during the night.

“Oh, God,” Starsky groaned. “Oooh.”

“Hey,” Hutch asked, “you gonna be sick?”

“You know what you need to do?”

“What, pal?”

“Slow this room down. It’s going way too fast.”

Hutch laughed a little. “I’ll see what I can do, partner.”

“Hutch?” Starsky opened his eyes completely and watched as Hutch sat down on the edge of the couch next to him.

“What is it, Starsk?”

“Got a question to ask ya.”

“Hmm?” Hutch reached over and brushed a dark curl out of his partner’s eyes.

“Why?” Starsky asked as he tried to follow Hutch’s hand with his eyes.

“Why wha…” Hutch began, but then realized what Starsky was talking about. He knew the conversation was going to have to come sooner or later, but felt it should wait until Starsky was sober.

“Come on, pal,” Hutch said, “we’ll talk about it later, OK? Just try to go to sleep now. You don’t look too good.”

“Don’t feel too good.”

“You’ll feel better in the morning. Let me get you some water and aspirin.”

“Hmm-mmm,” Starsky shook his head as he reached up to take Hutch’s hand off his forehead. “I’m going home.”

“And just how do you think you’re going home, huh? I’m certainly not taking you, and you can’t drive in this condition. Do you even know where your car is?” Hutch grabbed the hand that was swatting at him.

Starsky tried to pull his hand from Hutch’s grasp, but the impact of what his partner had just asked hit him suddenly and he stopped, allowing the blond to tighten his grip on his arm. He stared blankly at Hutch.

“Do you?” Hutch asked.

“My car?”

“Yes, buddy, your car. Do you know where it is?”

“Oh, terrific,” Starsky said and closed his eyes again, “now I’ve even lost my damn car.”

“Don’t worry,” Hutch said as he let go of Starsky’s arm and patted him on the shoulder, “we’ll find it. You’ll remember where it is tomorrow. I’m going to get you some aspirin.”

Hutch began to rise from the couch, but was stopped by Starsky’s grip on his sleeve. He sat back down, noticing the violet-blue eyes were once again open and looking at him.

“Starsk, you OK?”

“Sick-gonna be sick.”

“Oh, boy. OK.” Hutch said as he stood up quickly, looking around for something to give Starsky to throw up in. “Just hang on, OK?”

“Oh, God,” Starsky moaned as he tried to sit himself up.

After a quick scan of the room and finding nothing that would do, Hutch helped Starsky up and began lugging him to the bathroom. “Just hang on, buddy, OK, please?” he pleaded.

“Hurry.”

“We’re hurrying. Hang on, hang on.”

Hutch managed to drag his partner across the living room to the bathroom door and nudged it open with his shoulder. He pulled Starsky in the bathroom and over to the toilet bowl. Starsky immediately dropped to his knees and began to heave everything he had on his stomach into the flush. Hutch dropped down next to him and rubbed Starsky’s back as he retched violently. “It’s OK, it’s OK,” he repeated until finally Starsky was still with his head leaning against the edge of the toilet seat.

“You done?” Hutch asked as he reached up to flush the toilet.

“No,” Starsky mumbled and began to retch again. He practically placed his entire head inside the toilet bowl until his face completely disappeared and all Hutch could see was his curly dark hair. Hutch tried to pull him back a little, afraid he’d get caught in the swirling water.

“Leave me alone,” Starsky’s weak and muffled voice pleaded from inside the toilet bowl.

“Starsk…”

“I mean it, Hutch. Just please leave me alone. I’ll be all right-not that you care, ” Starsky added before he heaved more of the contents of his stomach into the flush.

“Oh, Starsk…”

“Get out now!” Starsky yelled between convulsions. “I don’t want you watching me puke, thinking you’re comforting me, just because you feel guilty!”

“Starsk…”

“Dammit, Hutch, please!”

“OK, OK. I’ll be right out in the living room if you need me.”

Hutch stood up and looked down at his friend. He reached over and lightly touched Starsky on the shoulder. Starsky shrugged his hand off and continued to heave. Hutch turned around and pulled the bathroom door not quite completely closed as he stepped out of the room. He slowly walked over to the couch, looking back as he heard Starsky moan. He stopped and stared at the door, running his hand through his hair.

‘Oh, God, Starsk, how did we get here?’ he thought to himself as he flopped down on the couch. ‘How did I let this happen?’

Listening to the sounds of his suffering partner in the other room, the events of the last few weeks began to unravel in his head. It all started when SHE came into their lives. Starsky and Hutch were both taken with her almost immediately, but Starsky beat Hutch to the punch and asked her out first. She accepted and the two began dating on a fairly regular basis. Hutch was content at first to let her go, but then they started working on the dance-hall murders together and the innocent flirting began. He thought it was innocent anyway, until he realized he was really attracted to her, and she seemed to be just as attracted to him. Only problem was she seemed to be equally as attracted to Starsky.

‘What’s a Starsky?’ the words echoed in his head. ‘A Starsky is the best-goddamned friend you’ve ever had in your life, Hutchinson, that’s what a Starsky is. You’re really a piece of work, you know that?’

Hutch curled his knees up on the couch, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He rubbed his eyes, hoping he could rub the guilt away, but the moaning and coughing coming from the other room made it impossible. ‘I deserve to feel guilty,’ he thought. ‘He never would have done anything like that to me-never! God, he confided in me, told me he thought he loved her, and what did I do? Went immediately over to her apartment and slept with her. Jesus, if he never speaks to me again, how can I blame him?’

“What am I gonna do,” he asked himself out loud. He opened his eyes and turned his head back to the bathroom. The noise had stopped.

“Starsk?” he called out.

No answer.

“Starsk?” He sat up.

“Stay out there. I’m all right–asshole,” the last word was faint and muffled, but Hutch heard it just the same. It brought a small smile to his lips. If anyone deserved to be called an asshole, it was him. He was the king of the assholes and he knew it.

“You’re gonna fix this, that’s what you’re gonna do,” he said to himself as he got up from the couch.

He walked over to the bathroom door and stood, listening. He could hear his partner muttering unintelligible comments to himself. All he could make out was an occasional “Oh, God.” Then, finally, he heard, “Maybe I’ll just die right here on his bathroom floor. That would teach him.”

With that, Hutch gently pushed open the bathroom door and looked down at his partner, who was in a sitting position on the floor, quietly rummaging through the cabinet under the sink. Unaware he was being watched, he pulled out a towel, closed the cabinet door and held on to the edge of the sink as he pulled himself up to his knees. He leaned his head against the cool edge of the sink and blindly reached for the cold-water faucet. Finding it, he turned on the water and let it run over his index finger for a few seconds. Satisfied that it was cold enough, he slowly lifted his head and leaned closer to the faucet.

Hutch stood silently as he watched the curly head lower itself partway into the sink. He stepped forward as Starsky lost his balance and almost fell over when he let go of the sink in an attempt to gather up some of the cool water with his hands.

“Hey, buddy, let me help you,” Hutch said softly as he dropped to his knees and placed a hand on Starsky’s back, fully expecting it to be shrugged off. When it wasn’t, he pulled the dark, limp form of his best friend to his chest.

Surprisingly, Starsky allowed himself to be drawn in and cradled. Hutch reached over and turned off the faucet, then gathered Starsky in both arms and sat back on his haunches. He looked down at his partner and realized he had passed out again, explaining the lack of resistance.

Hutch removed the towel that had fallen into his friend’s lap and folded it into a bunch. He laid it on the floor and gently moved Starsky’s body into a position so that he was lying on his side. He held onto the lifeless head and scooted the wadded-up towel underneath it.

Crawling over Starsky, Hutch turned the water faucet back on and opened the medicine cabinet that hung over the sink. He removed a plastic cup from one of the shelves and rinsed it out, then filled it with cold water. As he turned the faucet off, he leaned down and ran his empty hand through Starsky’s hair.

“Starsk?” he whispered. “Hey, Starsky, come on, pal. Wake up for a minute.”

Starsky’s eyes fluttered a little and a slight groan escaped from his throat. Hutch could smell the sourness of having been sick on his breath.

“Come on, buddy, let’s rinse out your mouth, huh? You’ll feel better.”

Starsky opened his eyes completely as Hutch placed the cup of water on the edge of the sink and began to help him sit up. Starsky remained silent as Hutch helped him to his knees and steadied him in front of the sink. He placed the cup of water to Starsky’s lips.

“Drink a little.”

Starsky took a small sip of the water, swirled it around in his mouth and spit it out in the sink.

“Want some more?” Hutch asked.

“Hm-mmm,” was the only answer.

“Better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Are you done in here?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Can you make it back to the couch?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Let me help you?” Hutch smiled a little as he asked the question.

Starsky looked up at Hutch and slowly nodded his head. With that, Hutch put his hands under Starsky’s arms and lifted him to his feet. Starsky swaggered a little, but seemed to be moving more of his own volition. Hutch still kept one hand on his back to steady him. They made their way to the couch and Starsky sat down hard.

“OK?” Hutch asked, sitting next to him.

Starsky stared at Hutch for a moment, blinking his eyes in an attempt to focus. He said nothing, and laid his head back against the corner of the couch. Hutch gently placed his hand on Starsky’s forearm and lowered his head, staring at his feet. He felt like he should say something, but didn’t want to further upset his partner. Yet he didn’t feel ready to leave him alone.

“Hutch?” Starsky finally broke the silence with his weak voice. He kept his eyes closed and his head remained leaning against the couch.

Hutch looked up and sat back, keeping his hand on Starsky. “Huh?”

“Why?”

“Starsk, later.”

“No, Hutch, now. Just tell me why.” Starsky’s voice was flat and without emotion.

“I don’t know.”

“Not much of an answer.”

“I know.” Hutch took his hand away from Starsky and ran it through his hair. “I just don’t know what else to tell you about why. I’m so sorry.”

Starsky opened his eyes and lifted his head a little. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Well, that’s rich. You’re sorry. And I’m just supposed to forget the whole thing happened with a lousy ‘I’m sorry?'”

Hutch sighed and stared at the ceiling. “No. Starsk, I…”

“You what?”

Hutch sat back on the couch and looked at Starsky. “I don’t think we should talk about this right now. I think we should wait until you feel better.”

“Well, here’s a revelation for ya, bright boy,” Starsky said as he lifted himself up from his slouching position. “I ain’t gonna feel better until we talk about this. You’re the one who dragged me here. I was perfectly content to never speak to you again. Now that you’re holding me prisoner here, might as well get it all out in the open, don’t ya think?”

Hutch shook his head and snorted. “Great. All of a sudden you’re making sense. You always did sober up too quickly.”

“Yeah, well, coughing up all your internal organs will do that to ya. Tell me why.”

“Starsk, I told you I don’t know why! And I mean it! I don’t know why. I-I was confused. I…”

“That stinks, Hutch.”

“Starsk, listen to me…”

“Oh, I’m listening, all right enough.”

“I never meant to hurt you. You’ve got to believe that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. She was-she was-oh, God, I don’t even know what she was. She just…”

“Are you trying to blame what you did on her?”

“Well, do you think she didn’t play a part in all this? Do you think she was completely innocent? You think she didn’t know what she was doing?”

“Frankly, Hutch, I don’t give a rat’s ass about her right now. I’ll deal with her later. I want to know how you, old buddy, old pal, could do this. I want to know what you were thinking. Hell, Hutch, I just want you to make sense of this whole mess for me. Because I certainly can’t.”

“Starsky, she…”

“Not she-you!”

“I…” The blond began, then stopped, staring at his feet.

“Go on.” Starsky nodded his head once.

“I screwed up.”

Starsky let out a silent laugh and shook his head. “Jesus, is that all I’m gonna get from you, hmm? You screwed up? You certainly did, Hutchinson. You screwed up in a big way. All these years…” Starsky’s voice suddenly broke.

“Oh, Starsk…” Hutch breathed and looked Starsky directly in the eye.

Starsky looked away from Hutch and swallowed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now.” He began to lift himself off the couch.

“Starsk…” Hutch repeated, louder this time, and grabbed Starsky’s arm.

“Don’t,” Starsky shrugged the hand off his arm and tried to stand. “I’m calling a cab. I’m going home.”

“Dammit, Starsky, look at me! You’re not going home, not until we get this straightened out.” Hutch stood up as well and once again grabbed Starsky by the arm, harder this time. Starsky swaggered a little and awkwardly sat back down on the couch, Hutch steadying him with his hand. He glared up at Hutch and reached for the phone on the end table. Hutch was able to grab the phone before Starsky could reach it. He held it above Starsky’s head as his partner’s unsteady hands reached out for it.

“I’ll rip it right out of the wall, Starsky, I swear I will,” Hutch said as he yanked on the cord.

Starsky gritted his teeth and stared angrily at the determined blond. “Fine,” he said, as he sat back on the couch. “Everything’s always gotta be your way, doesn’t it?”

Satisfied that Starsky had given up, Hutch slammed the phone back down on the end table and sat on the coffee table across from his partner. “Look, you want answers, all right, I’ll try to give you answers. But you’ve got to listen to me. Do you think you can just shut up for a few minutes and listen to me?”

“Well, if you’d say something instead of…”

“Can you shut up?”

“I…”

“Now?”

“You…”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Starsky, shut up!” Hutch yelled. He balled his hands into fists and raised them up to his lips, scrunching his eyes shut. He sat like that for a few moments, silent, then opened his eyes. “Just give me a few minutes, OK?”

Starsky let out a breath through his nose and glanced up at the ceiling, saying nothing.

“OK?” Hutch repeated.

“You told me to shut up, so I’m shutting up,” Starsky answered, shaking his head mockingly, still staring at the ceiling.

“OK,” Hutch sighed and scooted forward, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. “I told you I don’t know why, and that’s the absolute truth. I don’t know why. I wasn’t thinking. I guess I just thought it was like it always is with us when we’re competing for a girl. I don’t know why I didn’t see how serious it was for you. I swear, Starsk, if I had have known you felt the way you did…”

Suddenly the ceiling wasn’t quite so interesting to Starsky, who jerked his head in Hutch’s direction and stared him straight in the eye. “But you did know. I told you! And you went right over and hopped in the sack with her anyway!”

“Starsk, do you think that’s the first time I slept with her?”

Starsky was silent for a moment, blinking, and then finally muttered, “What are you talking about?”

Hutch maintained the direct eye contact. “That night that I stayed at her house-the night you were supposed to go over there. She and I had sex that night.”

Starsky’s eyes narrowed questioningly. “What?”

Hutch tilted his head a little and raised his eyebrows. “She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

“No, she didn’t,” he answered flatly. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Oh, come on, Starsk!” Hutch raised his voice again. “Why wouldn’t you believe that? Why would I lie at this point? You’ve apparently already decided that I’m the most horrible creature on the face of the earth, that I did this all just to hurt you. So why should I lie at this point? ”

“So you’re saying that you had sex with her before I did?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Well-so-I–why didn’t you tell me that before?”

Hutch shrugged and lifted his hands, palms up. “When? Huh? When was I supposed to tell you? If you remember correctly, the minute I got back that morning, you were all over my case with your ‘rules of the assignment’ tirade. You pissed me off; I wasn’t going to tell you anything!”

It was Starsky’s turn to raise his voice. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you dare blame this on me. This one’s all yours, Blondie. Even if you did sleep with her that night, I was the one who was supposed to guard her! You weren’t even supposed to be there.”

“I know that. And I’m not blaming you. I’m just trying to make you see that she’s not 100 percent innocent in this whole thing. How do you think I felt when you told me that you’d slept with her, huh? And that she told you she loved you.”

“I never said she told me she loved me. I told you I thought I loved her.”

“Oh, Starsk, that’s just splitting hairs, and you know it. You implied that she loved you. I swear, Starsky, I just went over there to see if it was true. I wanted-I needed to hear it from her. Up until that point, it was just a game to me; just a little competition for her. But then you said you loved her and that she loved you…”

“I didn’t…”

“Shut up, Starsk, and let me finish.” Hutch stood up from the coffee table and turned away from the couch. “You’ve got the biggest goddamn mouth. Why am I even bothering? You’re just going to argue with me, no matter what I say.”

Starsky shakily rose from the couch and spun Hutch around by the arm. “Hey, now wait just a lovely little minute here. Don’t you start getting pissy with me, buddy boy. I’m not the one…”

Suddenly the room began to spin and Starsky closed his eyes and clutched Hutch’s arm tighter. Hutch placed both hands on Starsky’s elbows and lowered them both back on to the couch, his left knee touching Starsky’s right.

“Starsky, I’m sorry. Listen to me-just listen to me. That’s all I want.”

“Well, go ahead then,” the words were muffled as Starsky ran his left hand over his face.

“Are you really listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“Then look at me.”

“Hutch…”

“Jut look at me.”

Starsky removed his hand from his face and in an exaggerated move, turned his head toward Hutch, causing a pain to shoot through his head. He closed his eyes again and gasped, then opened them again, looking wearily at his partner.

“All right. I’m lookin’ at ya,” he said.

Hutch nodded and tried not to chuckle at his friend’s obvious discomfort. “OK. I swear, after I found out that she’d slept with you and that you thought you loved her-Starsky, I swear I just went over there to find out from her what happened. I didn’t want to tell you that I’d already slept with her. Not then. Can you believe I was afraid of hurting you?”

Starsky chuffed and rolled his eyes.

Pretending he didn’t notice, Hutch continued. “So I went over there just to-and, I swear, I don’t know what happened. She started laying down all this shit about being in love with both of us and why shouldn’t she be able to have us both. God, Starsk, looking back, I know it was just crap. It made sense to me at the time, I guess. I just-like I said, I wasn’t thinking. I told her we had to consider you, but then she started-I don’t know, the next thing I know, I’m just too far-gone to stop it. Then, after it was over, I knew it was a mistake. And then you showed up, and-well, you just got so mad, you wouldn’t listen to anything! And so then I got mad, too, and…”

Starsky interrupted, “Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

“Can I talk now?”

“Yes.”

“You know, I want to believe you, Hutch.”

“You don’t believe me, though, do you?”

“No-yes. I don’t know, Hutch.”

“Starsky…”

Starsky gestured with his hand for Hutch to be quiet, then looked away. “All right. Look, I’m gonna just lay it on the line here. You hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry anymore.”

“If I had have known that she really meant that much to you…”

Sighing heavily, Starsky turned his head back toward Hutch. “Hutch, for God’s sake. Don’t you see? It’s not about her anymore. It’s about you. It’s about me. It’s about us. I’ll get over her. Hell, I am over her. I didn’t really love her, I see that now. I thought I did, but…”

Starsky shook his head and glanced away again. “Ah, shit, Hutch, I don’t know how to explain it. She was the first girl I saw on a steady basis in a long while, since-well, since-since Terry. You know that.”

Hutch closed his eyes and whispered, “Oh, God.”

Starsky continued looking away and Hutch wasn’t sure if he was still speaking to him or to himself. “And I-I just thought-I needed-I guess the point is that I was wrong about my feelings toward her. Maybe I did love her in a way, but it wasn’t real love, not like…”

“You don’t have to say anything else, Starsk. I understand.”

“Do you?” Starsky asked and looked down at his hands that he had unknowingly folded in his lap.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you do.” Starsky shook his head, still looking down. “I don’t think you see what’s really happened here. I didn’t just lose a girlfriend. I would’ve lost her anyway eventually.” He swallowed hard. “I lost you.”

“You haven’t lost me.”

“Haven’t I?”

“God, no, Starsky. We can get through this.”

“Can we?”

Hutch sat back on the couch so that now their entire upper legs were touching, his arm slung around the back of the couch. He leaned forward and lowered his head as well, trying to make eye contact. “Of course we can, if you’d just think about it for a minute. She played us.”

Starsky nodded. “Yeah, she did. I see that.” He glanced over at Hutch, then away again. “But, Hutch, I never thought anyone could ever do that to us. I thought what you and me had was stronger than that. You were the one person who I thought I could trust completely. And now-now that’s not true anymore. You hurt me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You keep saying that. But that don’t change the fact that you did.”

Hutch moved his hand from the back of the couch and rested his chin on it, staring at the bathroom door. His voice was low and shaky. “Are you saying that you can never forgive me? Is that what you’re saying?”

Starsky took in a deep breath and shook his head. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’ll just have to see, I guess.”

“Are you even willing to try?”

“It’s not going to be easy, you know.”

“I know.”

“All these years…” Starsky’s voice once again trailed off.

Feeling a slight tremor from the body next to him, Hutch took his hand away from his chin and placed it on Starsky’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say anymore. I understand. I know that what I did hurt you and that right now you don’t think you can trust me.” He leaned his head in closer to Starsky’s and spoke in a low tone directly into his ear. “I don’t know how, but I swear to God, I’ll make this up to you, buddy. I’ll prove to you that you can still trust me. I’ll never let anything like this happen again. What you and I have is too important to me. You believe that, don’t you?”

Starsky moved his head away slightly and continued looking down. “Like I said, I want to, Hutch. Right now there’s nothing I want more. But the wound is still too fresh. You’ve just gotta give me time.”

Hutch once again moved his head close to Starsky’s, actually resting his forehead in the dark curls. He whispered, “All the time you need, pal. All the time you need.”

The two remained sitting on the couch in that position for a few moments, Hutch grateful that Starsky had allowed the contact. It gave him hope that things could possibly return to normal-eventually.

Starsky finally broke the silence and lifted his head, leaning it against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, “God, I feel like shit.”

Moving his own head to the back of the couch, but keeping his hand on Starsky’s shoulder, Hutch chuckled a little. “Well, you don’t look much better.”

“Thanks.”

“How much did you drink tonight anyway?” Hutch asked as he turned his head toward his partner.

“I don’t know. A lot.”

“No kidding. You’re not gonna be sick again, are you?”

Starsky opened his eyes and looked at Hutch. “Are you nuts? There’s nothing left on my stomach.”

“You’re gonna have one killer headache, you know that.”

“Already do.”

The two smiled slightly at each other, bringing even more hope to Hutch. He sat up, taking his hand from Starsky’s shoulder. “You know, I tried to find you after the whole thing at the dance hall was over tonight. I looked everywhere for you. Where did you go?”

“I went to the station, then I went home.”

“You went to the station? I asked everyone there if they’d seen you; no one had.”

Starsky lifted his head from the couch and shook it. “I didn’t go inside. I drove there, and, I don’t know, I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car. I parked in the garage and stared at the building for a while. Then I saw you and Kira go in, and I didn’t feel like facing either one of you at that point, so I left. I figured you two could handle the reports. I went home.”

“I see. So how did you end up shit-faced at Huggy’s?”

“Well, I didn’t say I stayed home. I went there and just sorta sat on my couch staring at nothing. Then I didn’t feel like being alone, so I called a cab.” All of a sudden Starsky sat bolt upright and looked at Hutch, eyes wide. “Hutch, I called a cab!”

Hutch sat up as well. “Yeah? So?

“No, don’t you see? I called a cab! My car-my car’s at home!”

Hutch rolled his eyes and smiled. “Oh, yeah. Well, there’s one mystery solved.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Some detective I am. In all the searching I did for you, I didn’t think to drive by your apartment. It never occurred to me you’d just go home.”

Starsky sat back against the couch, the look of relief still on his face. “Yeah, well, you know me too well, I guess.”

“I guess.”

“Where did you look for me?”

Hutch stood up and began gathering Starsky’s shoes and jacket from the floor. “Well, like I said, I asked around the station, I called Huggy–he hadn’t seen you–I even drove by Kira’s thinking that maybe-well, then I came here, hoping this is where you’d be. I called Huggy again. But he still hadn’t seen you. I did try to call your apartment, but you didn’t answer.”

“Wasn’t there,” Starsky said and then raised an eyebrow at Hutch. “What made you think I’d go to her place?”

Hutch shrugged and hung Starsky’s jacket over his closet door. “I don’t know, Starsk. I was just worried about you. You didn’t say a word when you left the dance place.” He tossed the blue Adidas in a corner. “You just disappeared.”

“Yeah, sorry. Shoulda hung around to help clear things up, I guess. Anything exciting happen?”

Hutch leaned over the back of the couch, his head level with Starsky’s. “Nope. Ambulance came for Joey; backup units showed up and took care of the rest of it. Kira and I went back to the station and finished up the reports.”

“Uh-huh,” Starsky lowered his head and began playing with a button on his shirt. “So, uh, how did you leave things with her?”

“I didn’t say a word to her and she didn’t say anything to me, except to compare a few notes on the case. Oh, she did ask me what happened to you. I think she was worried, too.”

Starsky looked up from his shirt and over at Hutch. “Oh, baloney on rye. She doesn’t care about me. I think she’s mad as hell at both of us.”

“You’re probably right,” Hutch smiled. “But then who cares, huh?”

“Really,” Starsky attempted to smile as well, but it fell flat. He looked down and began fidgeting with his button again.

“Are you gonna be OK?”

“Yeah,” Starsky breathed. “Yeah, I guess so.” He leaned his head back and looked up at Hutch. “Still got those aspirin?”

Hutch patted Starsky’s head and straightened. “Yep. I’ll get them for you. I’ll get you a T-shirt, too, and some sweat pants, if you want.”

“OK.” Starsky kept his head leaning against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Hutch went into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards until he found the aspirin bottle he was looking for. He got a glass of water and walked back out to the living room, extending the aspirin and water to Starsky.

“Thanks,” Starsky said, as he lifted his head from the couch and took the aspirin and water from Hutch. He popped the aspirin into his mouth and took a long drink of water. When he was done, he handed the glass back to Hutch, who placed it on the coffee table.

“T-shirt and sweats,” Hutch said as he walked toward the bedroom. Starsky watched the blond walk away and disappear in the other room.

“Hutch,” he called out.

“Hmm?” Hutch’s reply was barely audible over the sounds of opening and closing drawers.

“I’m sorry, too, you know.”

The blond head popped around the corner. “For what?”

“For being so jealous that I just got mad and didn’t talk to you about it. None of this woulda happened if we hadn’t have both been so stubborn and hada just talked to each other. Ya think?”

Hutch leaned his right side against the doorway. “Probably, Starsk. It’s all in the past. We’re just gonna have to fix it. I feel a little better now. Do you?”

“If you mean mentally, yeah, I guess I do. Physically, now that’s another subject.”

Hutch smiled and went back into the bedroom. “Yeah, well, that’s your own doing, dummy. I’m not going to take the blame for that.” He re-emerged from the room with a pile of clothes, sheets, a blanket and a pillow. He tossed the pile on the unoccupied end of the couch. “You know better.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just never mind, huh?” Starsky took the clothes off the top of the pile and stood up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, then go to sleep.” He headed for the bathroom.

Hutch watched him wobble a little. “Need help?” he asked.

Starsky glanced over his left shoulder at Hutch and waggled his eyebrows. “That a proposition?”

A pillow was thrown at the closing bathroom door. “You’re gross!” Hutch yelled.

The bathroom door opened a crack and the dark head peeked out just a tad. “Yeah, well, you should be so lucky.” The door closed again. “I’m fine, Hutch. Just go ahead and go to bed yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sighing, Hutch made up the couch for Starsky. He walked over to the bathroom door and picked up the pillow. “Night, Starsk,” he called out and threw the pillow on the couch.

“Night,” Starsky answered from inside the bathroom.

Hutch stood in the middle of his living room for a few moments, then glanced up at the ceiling. ‘Thank you,’ he silently mouthed and looked back at the bathroom door. He then walked toward his bedroom, knowing he’d sleep better tonight than he had in weeks.

* * * * *

The ringing of the phone startled him, and he sat bolt upright on the couch, the blanket that was covering him falling to the floor. The phone rang again and a searing pain shot through his head. His entire faced scrunched and he grabbed the top of his head. A third ring caused him to fall back, grabbing at the pillow he’d been lying on and pulling it over his aching head. Finally after another half-ring, he heard Hutch’s muffled voice from the bedroom croak out sleepily, “Hello?”

Starsky removed the pillow from over his head and opened his eyes slightly. The sunlight streaming in from the window was more than his aching eyes could bear, and he immediately scrunched them shut again. “Jesus,” he breathed, and crossed his arms atop his forehead. He lay still for a few moments and tried to hear what Hutch was saying into the phone.

“Yeah, I found him,” he heard him say. “Yeah, yeah, he’s OK. Don’t worry about him.” Starsky wondered who he was talking to. Dobey? Probably not; Dobey would just chew him out when he got to work this afternoon. Huggy? No, Huggy knew Hutch had found him. That left only one person-Kira. He wondered what time it was, and tried to focus on his watch. Deciding it was too much effort for his poor eyes, he gave up and closed them again.

“I don’t know about that,” he heard Hutch say. “All right. All right. When?” Another pause. “I’m working this afternoon and tonight. I won’t be off until 9.” More silence and Starsky rubbed his eyes with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. “OK,” he heard Hutch finally say. “I’ll see you then. Yeah. Bye.”

Starsky lay still on the couch and had almost drifted back to sleep when he heard Hutch padding his way into the living room. He kept his eyes closed as Hutch sat down on the coffee table across from him.

“You awake, Starsk?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Starsky mumbled, moving his hand from his face and laying it across his nauseated stomach.

“How do you feel?”

“How do you think?” Starsky grumbled.

“Probably about as bad as you look,” Hutch said and picked the blanket up off the floor.

“So?” Starsky asked.

“So what?” Hutch answered and began folding the blanket.

“What’d she want?” Starsky turned his head toward Hutch, his eyes still shut.

“She wants to talk to me.”

“Lucky you.”

Hutch snorted. “Yeah. I’m supposed to meet her tonight at Huggy’s after work, around 9:30.”

“What are you gonna tell her?”

“That I think she needs to find herself another toy.”

Starsky opened his eyes, blinked, groaned and shut them again. After a few seconds of silence, he opened them and looked wearily at Hutch. “You know, Hutch, if you want to date her…”

“Oh, my God,” Hutch yelled, causing his partner to hiss in pain. Hutch winced himself. “Sorry. Starsk, I thought we had this settled,” he said, lowering his voice.

“Well, we do, but if you’re having second thoughts…”

“I’m not having second thoughts, Starsk! Jeez, are you still drunk?”

Starsky shook his head slightly and grimaced. He turned away from Hutch and buried his head further in the pillow. “OK, OK. Sorry I brought it up.”

Hutch began folding the blanket again. “Well, if she wants to talk, then I’m gonna talk to her. I don’t think she’s going to like what I have to say.” When he got no reaction from Starsky he threw the folded blanket on the floor and touched Starsky on the arm. Starsky turned his gaze back at his partner.

“What?”

“You believe me, don’t you? I mean, that I don’t want anything to do with her.”

Starsky stared at Hutch for a moment, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I believe ya. Go. Tell her off. Tell her off for me while you’re at it.”

“You got it, buddy,” Hutch said. He picked up the blanket and rose from the coffee table. Slinging the blanket over the back of the couch, he said, “I’m gonna take a shower now. You need anything?”

“A coroner’s wagon.”

Hutch smiled and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

When he came out, he found Starsky dressed and sitting on the end of the couch, his sunglasses shielding his delicate eyes.

“What are you doing?” Hutch asked, toweling his damp hair.

“I’m gonna call a cab and go home, take a shower and get changed for work.”

“Well, let me dry my hair and I’ll drive you. Just give me a minute.”

“No, no,” Starsky said and blindly reached for the phone. “It’s OK, Hutch. It’ll be quicker to call a cab. Maybe I can grab a little more shut-eye once I get cleaned up and don’t smell like a brewery.” He turned toward the phone on the end table and picked up the receiver.

“You sure?”

“Yep.” Starsky thought for a minute, then began slowly dialing the numbers.

“You all right?”

“Will be.” Starsky said as he placed the receiver up to his ear.

Hutch smiled and went into the bedroom. He got dressed and began making his bed. He heard the cab pull up to Venice Place and honk its horn. “Cab’s here, Starsk,” he called out. He heard Starsky get up off the couch and open the door without saying anything.

“Starsk?”

“Yeah?”

“See ya later, partner,” he stood silent, waiting for Starsky’s reaction.

“Yeah, see ya,” was the only answer he got, then heard the door shut and his friend’s footsteps going down the steps.

Hutch was going over last night’s report one last time before handing it in to Dobey, when he heard the squad room door open. He looked up to see his partner, showered, shaved and wearing a different outfit. The sunglasses still remained, however.

“You’re late,” he said and lowered his eyes back to the report.

“Good reason for that,” Starsky answered as he grabbed the chair from his desk, turned it around and sat straddling it, his arms slung over the back.

“Oh, yeah?” Hutch asked.

“Yep. Guess who called just as I was about to leave?”

“Let me guess.”

“You got it, Charlie.” Starsky said and reached back to the coffee pot. “Damn,” he muttered as he noticed it was empty.

“Here,” Hutch said, and slid his coffee cup across the desk.

“Thanks,” Starsky said and lifted the cup to his lips.

“So?” Hutch asked.

“So?” Starsky took a sip from the cup and swallowed. “She wants to meet me at Huggy’s, around 9:30.”

“Imagine,” Hutch said dryly and closed the report’s folder.

“Yeah. You know something, Hutch? I think she’s enjoying this. I think this is just one great big game to her.”

“Noooo,” Hutch answered sarcastically. “You don’t say?”

“Mm-hmm.” Starsky answered and took another drink from the cup. “Know what else?”

“What?”

“I think we should play along.”

Hutch raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, see, the way I figure it,” he lowered his sunglasses down the tip of his nose, “she just wants to see us fight again. I think she gets off on it. But I think that we ought to call her bluff. I mean, if she wants both of us, we should give her both of us.”

“Are you saying…”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Starsky pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and took another sip of coffee. “What do you say, Blondie? Ever been involved in a ménage a trois?”

“Well, you know me. I’m always up for new and exciting things,” he answered, shaking his head and smiling.

“Yeah, well, let’s hope she’s not,” Starsky said and laughed. “I mean, hey, I’m all for a threesome, but I’d rather not have to stare at your sorry white ass while I’m doing it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of watching your hairy ass, either, Gordo.”

“My ass is not hairy.”

“It is, too.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen it, chump. It’s hairy.”

“You can kiss my hairy ass, Hutchinson.”

“Well, you can kiss my sorry white ass, Starsky.”

“I’ll kick your sorry white ass.”

“Well, I’ll kick your hairy ass.” Hutch stared at his partner from across the desk and could tell, despite the sunglasses, that Starsky was looking back at him. They both smiled at the same time and broke out into laughter, Starsky wincing at the pounding in his head.

“Stop it,” he begged, laughing harder. “Oh, God, that hurts.”

Hutch snorted and took the coffee cup from Starsky’s hand. He was trying to control his giggling and take a sip when Captain Dobey’s office door opened.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the captain said gruffly. “Something funny out here? And what’s with the sunglasses, Starsky?”

Starsky shrugged and hugged his stomach, choking on his own laughter. Hutch finally managed to gain control and took a sip from the shared coffee cup.

“Afternoon, Cap,” he said.

“Hmmph,” Dobey growled. “I want to see you both in my office–now.”

The partners got up and followed their captain into his office.

Dobey sat behind his desk as Starsky flopped down in the chair across from him, propping his feet up on the edge of the desk. Hutch sat on the arm of Starsky’s chair, coffee cup in one hand, report in the other.

“Well,” Dobey smiled, “looks like things are back to normal for you two, huh?”

“Looks like it,” Starsky mumbled and removed his feet from the desktop at the wave of his captain’s hand.

“Yep,” Hutch agreed and smiled. “Looks like it indeed.”

THE END