Certain Mendacity

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“I gotta stop getting stuck on a cheap date with you!”

They both laughed while giving each other quite the look. It was starting to feel this way, on a date, always together, since the shooting, the recovery, and now the return to the force. But it felt good, to always be in the same space, it was just natural. They didn’t need anyone else.

But that didn’t mean a pretty girl didn’t turn their heads. It was just that there never seemed to be two ladies both interested at the same time, and who wanted to separate and leave the other one alone?

“Certain mendacity” can sometimes be inevitable, especially when their relationship is the target…

---

 

 

Certain Mendacity

By Vedette Ciel

 

Chapter 1

 

April, 1979

“Want me to try again, Mama?”

Mrs. Dodd put the wooden spoon down. The spaghetti would have to be heated again, which was irritating. “Yes, Bobby. Try to get your older sister down here.”

Bobby couldn’t wait to run up the stairs and go pound on her door. The whole house was always at her beck and call every time she visited, and that pissed him off.

“Come on, Princess Crazy! Ma said!”

Kimberly Rachel popped open the door with a sneer. “Well, who asked her? Just eat already, I’ll get there.” She never did care for the pandering her mother did. It was all to control her, as far as she was concerned. This was her last visit home between apartments, that was for sure.

Bobby shook his head. “She ain’t gonna like your attitude. Every time you come here, you just fight everybody.” He couldn’t wait until she saved enough money or found herself a new dude. Then she’d be packed by nightfall, and he could stop sleeping on the day couch. He wanted his room back.

She followed him down, but not until she slammed the door just to make her point. She didn’t need them, she didn’t need anybody. But using them to save some dough so she could get what she really wanted was no skin off her nose. At least not yet, she smirked to herself.

~~*~~

August, 1980

Starsky was a few minutes behind Hutch when it came to his first sip of beer. He’d sent him in to secure a table. “Had to park a block away. You’re getting pretty popular these days, Hug.”

Huggy smiled sinisterly. “It’s that new open mike night on Tuesday. Now the whole town has tasted my grub, so this is one busy hub!”

Starsky snickered, “a few poets know it! I should submit mine!”

Hutch wiped at his face. “A limerick doth not do, buddy. They’ll throw tomatoes.”

Starsky raised an eyebrow, “Are you taking shots at my wheels again? Remember I’m driving you home.”

Hutch shook his head jovially. “I gotta stop getting stuck on a cheap date with you!”

They both laughed at his joke, while giving each other quite the look. It was starting to feel this way, like they were on a date, always together, since the shooting, the recovery, and now the return to the force. But it felt good, to always be in the same space, it was just natural. They didn’t need anyone else.

Yet that didn’t mean a pretty girl didn’t turn their heads. It was just that there never seemed to be two ladies interested at the same time, and who between them wanted to separate and leave the other one alone?

Hutch wondered about Starsky’s interest in that open mike. “You really have some stuff you wrote, Starsk?”

Starsky smiled, happy he asked sincerely. “I used to wax a little, I still write some things down. Was pretty good in creative writing.”

Hutch gave that sweet smile. “Yeah? Well maybe sometime, you’d share some? Seriously, I’m impressed, Starsk.”

Starsky couldn’t help wipe his palm against Hutch’s wrist. “You know, years ago, you woulda laughed at me. But now I see you do care, to know things like that.”

Hutch’s eyes were full of affection. “Oh, Starsk. I always cared, about everything you are.”

Starsky lowered his head almost embarrassed. But he smiled his brightest grin.

~~*~~

Mid August, 1980

The bus stopped right in front of the station. She got out, quickly crossing the street.

With a cold and calculated look, she stared at the large building. It hadn’t changed one iota, she thought, still stoic, the god dammed place.

She walked up the front stairs and let herself in, briskly and quickly finding the information desk. “I’m looking for a cop, a Ken Hutchinson. Is he available?”

The receptionist took her insistence in stride. “May I ask your name, Ma’am? And to what is this referring?”

The long haired brunette looked at the name tag quickly, “No you may not, Officer Barrows. I just want to know if he’s available.”

Barrows gave her a disgusted but weary eye. It was a long day already. “I’ll inquire for you.” Barrows took to the phone.

But it wasn’t going to be necessary. A well-involved  Hutch walked into the hall with Dobey, moving his hands, describing the size or location of something. She stared at the svelte body, the bright, shining hair, the blue blazing eyes. It was a shock how good he looked. He was beautiful, always beautiful.

He turned towards her, his eyes used to circling a room, as he listened to Dobey. It appeared he looked directly at her, but recognized nothing.

She let him take a good, long look. She flashed him a smile just to make sure. He simply nodded in politeness. He didn’t appear to recognize her, that was clear. She turned quickly and headed towards the door. She had got what she came for, he didn’t know who she was. Perfect, she grinned, that’s all she needed. For now.

~~*~~

Days later

Starsky tussled the pizza box, with a brown bag teetered on the top of it, and a six pack of beer under his armpit. He sauntered along, but wasn’t sure he’d make the door, especially if someone was coming in.

Sure enough, someone was. He stopped on his toes before he tumbled food first into the cutest little redhead. “Whoops! Sorry, Miss!” he offered.

She grabbed at his box, so he could save the slipping bottles from his side. “Glad I was here! Wow, you have a load! Big party?”

Starsky, “Nah, just me and a good buddy.”

She smiled her prettiest, “a hungry one, I hope. You guys always dine alone together?”

Starsky couldn’t help himself, it was programmed into his veins to flirt, “only when us single guys don’t have a pretty date!”

She shied a bit seeing him look right through her. “Is that a pizza pick up line?”

Starsky winked. “No, truly I’m loyal to the first promise of the night. Can’t disappoint a friend.” He offered quickly, “But I do have tomorrow night.”

She cocked her head, her frilly doo bobbing with it. “I see. So that’s the pick up line.”

Starsky smiled. “Is it working?”

“On a two name basis, maybe. I’m Charlene. But you can call me Charlie. Like the perfume, my favorite.”

“Charlie? That’s an interesting nickname. I’m David. Like Goliath.” With that, it was all she could do not to look down at the front of his tight jeans.

They both chuckled instead, as she brought his box to the nearest table to exchange phone numbers.

~~*~~

Hutch turned the corner of the Venice Place building and headed back towards his door. He was proud of the fact that he got himself up earlier this Thursday, and got a good two mile jog in. Usually by mid week, he’d start making excuses why he couldn’t get to it these days.

He slowed to a walking gate as he passed Chez Helene’s new venture, the little tables with two seats each, placed in front of her shop for her customers. As he passed the only one occupied, the brunette called out sweetly, “Kenneth Hutchinson?”

He stopped and turned in reflex, “Yes, that is me.”

She stood to greet him with a letter. “Hi, I think this is yours. I received it in my mail by accident, I guess, stuck between bills. I’m renting a room right near, on Broadway.”

Hutch looked down at the letter. It looked like his phone bill. “Why, thank you, I–”

“I thought if I came over and dropped it off, but then the lady who runs this coffee shop said you always ran in the morning and maybe I could catch you, then she told me what you looked like–” She paused to gather herself. “My name’s Meredith. If you don’t mind my asking, do you jog every day?”

Hutch quickly felt sweatier, slightly embarrassed at his appearance. “Well, I, uh, I try to…”

“You just seem in such fine shape, I also try to jog, a few times a week anyway. I was wondering, you wouldn’t mind maybe, now and then, having a partner? Show me around the best route down this end?”

Hutch never could resist a girl who took care of herself, “well, uh, sure, I guess I–”

“Can I buy you a coffee this morning? A quick one? Then we can talk.” She smiled with sparkling fresh eyes and tilted her brown head of hair ever so slightly.

It enamored him immediately, but he didn’t know why. Something in the past…

He nodded, politely, no longer even thinking about his jogging clothes. Helene came out, almost on cue with an additional cup, saucer and pot. “Morning, Hutch. Nice to see you out here at my tables.”

Hutch sheepishly sat down, “Yes, Helene. Nice to see you.” It was a funny exchange considering she was his landlord.

Within a few minutes, Meredith was chatting up how she liked the nuance down here in the beach area, and how she was looking forward to interesting summer events, like a wine tasting at the Silver Suite  of the Broadway Hotel.  She asked him if he liked that sort of thing. His eyes shone brightly as he affirmed his passion for it.

Wine tasting events were something Hutch wished he could do more often. He missed the days his family not only attended them, but his father organized them. Once he moved from Duluth, it was a lost art when it came to this area. He never could get Starsky to go to such a thing, he would have been teased even if he suggested it. He was flattered this girl saw him as a man who’d appreciate such a cultured event, considering his present appearance.

Placing her cup back on the table, Meridith offered, “I know we just met, but would you mind escorting me to it? It would only be about an hour, next Saturday afternoon.”

A few sips later and he found himself talking up a storm about what his father taught him about wine. Within ten minutes, he’d found a gorgeous, cultured young woman that seemed to come out of nowhere.

~~*~~

Thursday Night

Hutch may give the airs of a connoisseur, but when the pizza was from Angelo’s Pizza Haven, who got the last slice was a fight to the finish. At least he retained his composure by chewing with his mouth closed.

With a generous crust pile in his cheeks, Starsky continued, “Anyway, there she was. What a looker. Smiling with the prettiest teeth. Oh, man, I haven’t seen one like her since I don’t know when!”

Hutch nodded, putting his eyes up. Since last week was his bet. “So you’re sure you want to take her out Friday?”

“Sure, why not? Unless of course, you know, it would cramp our weekend style…”

Hutch teased, “What, of beer and pool at Huggy’s dark and dank? I can skip a day. Besides, I’m still thinking…”

“About that brunette that gave you back your mail?” Starsky teased back, “I mean, who does that?”

Hutch smirked with his mind on the girl. “Well, now, we don’t ask Cupid how he arranges blind dates, now do we?”

“Yeah? Well, he’s hasn’t been very dependable these days.”

Hutch elbowed him for some fries. “Don’t temp the Fates, buddy.”

“Whatsa Fate? I thought he was a musing fairy or something.”

Hutch spit out the last two mushed fries and his beer, sending Starsky for more napkins.

~~*~~

That same night

She buckled below him, frustratingly taking his stunted thrusts with wilder abandon than he was used to in a woman. Higher, faster, she gripped herself, slippery on the high percale sheets, pushing him to step it up, as the jittery, noisy fan that tried to cool the room left a lot to be desired.

She’d forgotten nothing about her training days, and at this moment, it more than came in handy. Arching her back violently, she flipped herself and him in a harnessed grip, surprising the big lug, not losing a stroke nor the clamp her lower body had on his ample erection.

She needed the air of the fan on her wet back as she rammed herself deep upon him, doing all the work from up top, but she didn’t care, not about him or his wants or his abilities, just the high she needed, as violent and ferocious as she could make it, screeching her grunts like a mad feline, wanting it all before he’d do what they all do and finish first on her. So she pounded viciously, malicious in her wiles, thinking about nothing but her rabid libido, get it done, get it out, make it so meanly rich, escalating….continually she raised her body and fell twisting, screwing upon the jerk until that cocky rush hit—here it is–

He barely had any control, when her muscle spasms emptied him. A second later she lifted off, both from him and the bed and stood full front to the fan, letting the air be the tender aftermath touching her, not him. Never them. In a half hour, she’d send this one packing, like every other stranger she picked up just to feed her addiction for cold, heartless sex, they were all just fools with the tool she craved only until she got it.

This guy figured it out fast, it took no time until he was in the bathroom with the water running. She took herself to the bedroom mirror, enjoying a private grin with it as she gave her breasts a quick tweak. She was getting older, therefore it wasn’t as much fun anymore, but she found a way to make it good, even with a lousy lay. They were all lousy lays. No one could keep up with the fact that she could do what she wants with whoever whenever. She’d hung on to that all these years, that was all she had to keep.

The water stopped. She’d send him out as soon as he was done, for she got it good enough to keep herself from being tempted by what she had to do, at least for the next few days. The power over dumb men was her sword, and she was looking forward to taking her deserved slice out of them.

~~*~~

Chapter Two

 

Friday night

It had been an hour of dancing, dawdling, and talking between fast songs. Starsky had enjoyed his quick bite with Charlie, appreciating she didn’t expect a fancy night of dining. She’d told him by phone she wasn’t much for that sort of first date, that she was the active type, and she was looking forward to trying a disco club she heard about six miles out of town.

Driving made Starsky happy anyway, in fact almost everything Charlie brought up made him feel like he was dating an old friend. She was so much like him, fun-loving, easy going, free. She wasn’t making any demands or getting into any long talks like a lot of girls do. She wasn’t trying to figure him out like husband material. He definitely would have went cold on that subject.

For since the shooting, he already felt settled down, with a guy that loved him until the end. He’d had a great deal of dire moments, that he only could have allowed Hutch to see him recover through. Hutch was his anchor, and even tonight, he kept sliding between forgetting how much he was enjoying himself and how uncomfortable he felt leaving Hutch home alone.

But most peculiar was that Charlie didn’t ask any questions. When he brought up Hutch, she just listened and smiled like a painting, she let him go on and on with his bragging, and his tales of his partner. She didn’t vie for attention or ask him why he always talked about him. At least not yet.

The sexy slow song ended, he wouldn’t dance to those. A new group of fast dances began. Charlie popped in her seat, “The Electric Slide! I love that one! Do you know it?”

“Actually, I don’t. I always skip it because Hutch…” and there he went again starting a Hutch sentence. He didn’t mind doing it all night just to test her, but the truth was it came out of him like part of his heartbeat.

“You even dance with Hutch?” she asked with raised brows.

There, it was out, she was starting to break. Starsky approached it jokingly. “I taught him to dance, whatta you talking about?” He laughed pretty loud. “No, seriously, I taught him some dances because I have had lessons formally, and he had to learn to waltz once, when we were undercover.”

Charlie loosely added, “Well, for work, I suppose. But I don’t have to ask if you’re…you know…like that.”

Starsky’s insides felt like they were about to explode. No one asked that, flip or otherwise and got an answer. Especially on a first date. He stared at her, making sure she got very uncomfortable. “I don’t answer questions like that, no matter who asks.”

She stiffened in her seat, but she wasn’t amused. She put on the act she needed. “Oh, I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean to pry…it’s not like it’s unheard of in the sexual revolution to experiment, I mean, it’s hip and everything, it’s just that with your jobs, I…” She put on a little pookie pout to look stupid.

The problem is it worked. “Hey, that’s alright, I didn’t mean to sound upset. Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” He took her hand in his to reconcile, “I do find you very attractive if that’s what you wanted to know. Now come on, why don’t you give me a hand at learning how to slide on that dance floor?”

She threw herself forward as he got up and cuddled up to him, “Oh that sounds peachy!” They snuggled as they walked right into the center of the dance.

~~*~~

Saturday afternoon and evening

“This Bordeaux is native to California, sir, and is definitive for its rich woody tones. Would you care to sample?”

Hutch took his glass and swirled it, allowing the aromatics to rise to his educated nose. He tasted it and approved with a smile and a nod.

“Did you like that one, Ken?” Meredith stood looking up to him, fascinated at his appraisals.

Hutch walked her in a graceful waltz around the oak floored ballroom as he spoke of which wines were the most to his taste. She delicately escorted him, with her glass in her hand, while she cupped her other arm around his raised elbow.

They were having a lovely time, one he had not experienced since the days he was with his wife. Those early days he and Vanessa had shared many of their interests that had been forged in their higher upbringing. He had lost most of that, to some extent gladly, when he shed his life in Duluth for California, but there were times and things that he missed.

This classy lady reminded him so of the years that had passed. He found her long dark hair another reminder of the things he had loved, when he accidentally had tipped his head slightly across it several times this afternoon. But it didn’t smell like the scent he now adored, the smell of sandalwood shampoo combined with the essence of the partner he now loved. They were just friends, he and Starsky, but they were so much more it defied description. It was certain that no other being had such serenity to secure his soul to but him. Strangely, even when it came to what he used to notice about women, like long silky hair, it just seemed rather plastic by comparison to Starsky’s illustrious curls.

Meredith leaned her curved waist against the iron rail of the second floor hotel terrace. “I’m so glad you came to share this with me, Ken. I do hope we can find other opportunities to get together.” She placed her traveling fingers across his sleeve, rising them sideways seductively all the way to his mouth.

He stopped her advance rather abruptly, pulling her fingers away with a definite grip. “Meredith…” he quietly said.

She widened her eyes and smiled brightly, “Now please don’t tell me you’re engaged or taken, are you? It would be just my luck.”

He dropped his head slightly as his grin was giving him away of sorts. “Yes, I am, well, it’s not, I mean no, I’m not engaged but…”

She touched his elbow again, just to encourage, “so it’s no but it’s yes somehow?”

Hutch pulled away and straightened a little, all tongue tied, “I am involved quite intensely with my work, and my partner, I told you I’m a detective…”

She couldn’t wait to test him, “So you mean you work more than you go out, so you’re practically engaged to your partner.”

Hutch focused his eyes and looked at her more intently. There was something about that voice, a certain intonation that puzzled him why he knew it, but she wasn’t anyone he could have met, she just moved here…

She continued by turning away from him, looking over the rail, “Sounds like maybe you have feelings for this woman…” Hutch had not revealed either Starsky’s name or his gender.

“My partner is male. My work partner.”

She pinched her lips visibly. “I see. And you don’t want people to know you’re together because you’re cops.”

Hutch lost his composure now. “Starsky and I are not gay. We just are deeply involved in each other’s lives.”

She pushed her luck. It was a trademark. “Sounds exclusive.”

Hutch twirled her close a little too quick. “Look, lady, I didn’t come here for a ration.”

She pulled away quickly, without a missed step, her eyes fierce for a moment, until she collected her act. She put both hands on his sleeves, with the glass between her fingers in one hand. “I’m sorry, oh please forgive me, I didn’t mean to be upsetting. It’s just that I find you so fascinating, so attractive, I should have assumed being so beautiful you had to be taken…” She rubbed her cheek on his sleeve too.

He didn’t do well as she lost some of her strength to him, it was always his weakness to protect, and so he embraced her gently to soothe. “I’m sorry also. It just that we’ve been through a lot, Starsky almost died in the line of duty, and I can’t not take that seriously. We went through so much.”

She pulled away to see his handsome face. “Of course, I understand. It was rude of me, I apologize again. I can’t imagine the pain you went through, and I wouldn’t want to impose of your feelings. I’d love to meet him someday, he sounds like a hero.”

Hutch softened as he saw her sincerity. “Believe me he is. He really is.”

She nodded and delicately pulled away, taking her place again looking over the rail, adjacent to him where he couldn’t see her face or interpret how she grated her teeth into her jaw.

~~*~~

Saturday night

The door shut as quietly as he could muster, but it made no difference. Somehow he knew Starsky was here somewhere.

Sure enough out of the shadows of the terrace came his partner yawning. “Did you have a good time?”

Hutch put his keys down on the piano. “What are you doing in there? Or here?”

“I told you I’d come over later. I thought you’d be here, that this vino thingy was over before dark.”

Hutch sighed at the words used to put down anything cultured. “It was.”

Starsky eyes twinkled. “So, did you have a good time?”

Hutch walked up to the couch, taking off his tweed sport coat. “Yes, actually I did.”

“And was she nice? Wonderful? Luscious?”

Hutch raised his eyes. “Those are my choices? I’ll take nice, I guess.”

Starsky came over and pinched his bottom. “Just nice, huh?”

Hutch smacked his hand immediately. “Knock it off.”

Starsky grabbed for that hand and caught it with a strong grip. He liked finding any way to prove he was tougher than nails. He wanted Hutch to always know they were equal again.

But Hutch wasn’t in the mood, instead he gripped the other hand, and within a half minute, they were wrestling standing up, pushing and pulling, until Hutch rushed him to the wall, with Starsky’s hands above him glued to it.

Starsky stood there, stiff, wondering what the hell happened. His thought got interrupted by Hutch’s complete collapse, dropping both their hands to Starsky’s shoulders, and then drooping his head onto his chest, like the times so long ago that he needed him the most.

Starsky sensed it immediately, they never needed words for this. He embraced his head, sliding his hands into his hair.

But Hutch crumpled in further, his arms limp on his sides, saying weakly, “Hold me, Starsk.”

Starsky didn’t hesitate and slid his arms across the swooped back and caressed him. Hutch reciprocated putting his arms around his waist.

Starsky uttered in his neck, “You okay? Something happen?”

Hutch nuzzled so hungry. Why hadn’t this happened before, again, enough? “I’m scared, Starsk.”

Starsky rubbed his back lovingly. The few times they’d crumbled, it was for serious, serious moments. This didn’t fit, but it was a bewitching luxury nonetheless. “Tell me, babe.”

The sound of the pet name soothed him more, telling him how right this is. “I haven’t been with anyone else for awhile, not like with you.”

Starsky understood, he had felt funny too last night. “You mean letting someone else in close.”

Hutch nodded. “Yes, and I don’t want to.” He raised his head and searched those eyes quietly for a moment. “Not like this. Not this close.”

Starsky wiped at his fluffed up hairs, overlooking his features. “I know. It bothered me yesterday, too. But at the same time, it was nice. She was nice, right?”

Hutch raised his eyes a little. He reengaged looking at those eyes that gave away a slight glee. “Okay, she was nice.”

Starsky took him now by the shoulders. “Then it’s okay then.”

Hutch dropped his head again, muttering, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Starsky petted the arms once more, as Hutch stood on his own. “We’re just out of practice, that’s all. We’ll get back on the horse. Or the bike. Or the camel. We remember how to hump.” Starsky snickered.

Hutch bristled as he shared the laugh. That wasn’t what he’d meant. But it was funny anyway.

~~*~~

Kimberly Rachel took another dab of the cold cream and spread it across the worst of the scars. With her makeup off it was always more evident that the left side had not healed as nicely, and that the tuck was ridged.

That last doctor had been an idiot. After she’d left Montgomery fiddle faddle… whatever his last name was, her free ride had run out, and she had to fend for herself in the world of plastic surgery. But at least the six months she’d put up with the limp noodle she had most of the work done.

Her mother had to give her a lecture with every procedural improvement. Why do you want to change your whole appearance, she kept asking, you were pretty enough before. But she didn’t understand. The things she wanted she had to change everything to get. After being shamed at her job, she had no choice but to start over. They had caught her seducing a witness, sent her for counseling, gave her a bunch of advice about sexual addiction. She didn’t believe in that stuff.

Her skin was ready for the evening cream she patted on amply. There’s nothing abnormal about casual partners and experimenting. In men, it was called sowing your wild oats. Why is it in women, it was considered being a harlot? She noticed only the dames sitting around with books and buns on their head came to those conclusions. The pretty, able ones were at the bar drinking pre-paid martinis if they weren’t shaking their booty, taking their pick off the beach in broad daylight.

No, she knew better. The world was changing and women were getting their own. She wasn’t going to end up a female eunuch or a Stetford wife like her college gal friends. She was going to live it up and enjoy the ride. Because whenever she did feel anything, and came up with a decent arrangement, someone always found a way to screw it up. She wasn’t going to get embarrassed again, or taken for granted, so help her Goddess.

~~*~~

Chapter 3

 

One week later

“Who unplugged my coffeepot again?” Dobey was miffed for the third time today at the practical joke that he wasn’t finding too funny. His wife had gave him the little portable three cup and those in the squad room had already made fun of its size compared to the standard one. Dobey barked at the first head he saw through the door, “Hutchinson!”

Hutch strolled over quickly, with a cup in his own hand, “Yes, Cap’n?”

“I’m assuming there’s more fresh coffee in the pot out there?”

Hutch looked down realizing what he had in his hands, “Uh, yes, there is.”

“Well, would you mind?” Dobey inquired, as he held out his mug.

“Uh, no sir, right away.” Hutch knew he’d better cover for Simmons that was the last one to unplug the little machine.

He had to squeeze by Starsky, whose outstretched legs took half the corner as he mooned on the phone for the second time today. Hutch kicked at his knee as he went by, shaking his head, mouthing mutely, “Charlie again?”

Starsky nodded with pride. They had called each other every day all week, and were having a grand time flirting away.

Hutch came back and pointed that finger, “You’d better get off that phone buddy, this isn’t high school.”

Starsky wrapped it up not to piss Hutch off. “Okay, what’s up?”

Hutch tapped his pencil. “Really. Talk about a crush.”

“What crush? Come on, nah.” Starsky was grinning like a beet.

“Well who is it, you or her?”

Starsky leaned his cheek on his wrist. “Don’t know yet.”

Hutch got up and got his coat. “We’re done here, you know. I’m just waiting for you.”

Starsky popped out of his chair, suddenly aware of the time. “Oh. Right. Weekend.”

Hutch was out the door briskly with Starsky following fast. Starsky caught up to him, “Hey, you’re not upset with me, are you?”

Hutch didn’t say a word until he got in the car. He sighed heavily when he closed the door.

Starsky put his hand on his, almost desperately. He was glad Hutch let it stay there. “I don’t know, Starsk. You’ve been talking with her all week, and now you’re going out this Saturday.”

“So? So why don’t you call Meredith? You said she called you twice yesterday.”

“I know. I just, I’m just not ready to drive in the fast lane, okay? And I’m not a phone person like you.”

Starsky smiled, “Hey, the reason I talk to Charlie on the phone is because it’s more comfortable than having her in front of me.”

“What do you mean?”

Starsky leaned over and said it so softly, “because, truly, the person I love to spend time with the most is right here.”

Hutch blushed a little. If it didn’t mean so much that he said that, he wouldn’t have. He looked into Starsky deep blue eyes. He saw it. It was the truth for both of them.

He grabbed at the hand still above his. “Starsk. I miss our dates. Not dates, but you know.”

Starsky squeezed that hand. Why did it always feel so true, so good? “Yeah. Me too. But we gotta take what comes, right? We finally got a couple of ladies that matter a little. We should try to run it through, right? If it doesn’t work, well, here we are. We haven’t lost anything.”

Hutch nodded quietly. “I guess you’re right. But this Meredith, she’s, I don’t know, a little too special.”

“What does that mean?”

Hutch looked out the window, figuring like he does. “Well, she’s into the exact things I am into. Like she knows me. Like she just programmed herself to fit. And she has this, I don’t know, this little tuck up of the chin sometimes that I seem to remember someone else doing.”

Starsky found this curious. “Like who?”

Hutch pinched his lips. “I don’t know, maybe Van. Maybe Abby.”

“You can’t remember the difference?”

Hutch wiped at his face. “Sick, isn’t it. I can’t remember anyone anymore, not outside of you.”

Starsky balked as he took his hand away, “what are you talking about? You’re just flighty.”

Hutch touched his shoulder, saying a little sternly, “no, I am not. I’m just tuned into you. The way you tilt your head, or put you chin in, or– yeah, see what you just did, how you just slumped.”

Starsky stiffened realizing he did just that.

“Starsk, I know what you say when you move, I know what you mean. I read your–what do they say, body language– everything you do, I feel. I know it. I’m not going to get in tune like that with someone else now.”

Starsky licked his lips and bit them a little. “You’re right, Hutch, I do know what you mean. But…girls.”

Hutch bristled, “Okay, okay. Girls. Yeah, getting back to girls. Guess you can’t question a lucky break for us has beens.”

Starsky turned on the engine. “Speak for yourself, Pops!”

Hutch whacked his arm. He already knew they were heading over to Huggy’s just by how Starsky winked at him. And he welcomed every minute he had for the two of them to be alone.

~~*~~

Saturday night

Starsky parked the car in a visitor’s spot farther away from the main door of the large hotel. Charlie’s room-to-let was on the third floor, so he’d left her by the main door to go in prior to him. He wasn’t that excited to see where she lived, but she’d insisted after their early night of dancing. When he came up, he knocked on her door and she answered with the phone in her hand.

“Oh, yes, I think I can do that. I’m so glad you called,” she said formally to the handset, as she waved him to come in.

Starsky took to the chaise by the couch and waited. “I’ll return a call to you tomorrow to give you a time, okay? That will be swell….okay, and thank you for calling. Bye now.”

She put the phone down with a regal smile on her face.

“Someone you know well?” Starsky didn’t know why he asked. It just seem to blurt out.

“Oh, just a possible job offer. Someone I’d really like to work with.”

“You never did say what you do, Charlie.”

“Yes, I did. I told you after my severance package ran out, I’d go back to being a personal assistant again, to a client or two.”

“Sounds like specific work.”

“Oh, it is, but I have an old client base, people around who want me for specific errands. It’s just a service, but people need it.”

She wanted the subject changed quickly. “Hey, I made some ice cream. I have this ice cream maker…” In a matter of minutes, she had filled  big bowls, one for each of them. Starsky took it, surprised how dark chocolate it was. He ate it happily and quickly, while Charlie put on some music then came back to sit beside him nibbling hers.

She came back and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Seeing his was done, she handed hers to him. “You can finish mine if you’d like. I’m not that hungry.”

For some reason, the more he ate, the more wanted. It made him feel a little giddy. “Is there liquor in this?”

“Oh just a little. Rum for taste. And a little vodka. You know, flavoring.” She didn’t mention the THC oil she had added, that had an even stronger potency than its origin in marijuana.

Starsky started giggling. “Now, you should have told me, you know I’m bananas about chocolate.” He snuggled a little closer to her as he continued eating.

Charlie spooned him the rest, as she leaned close enough to replace the spoon with her mouth.

Starsky took to the warm sensual lips touching his cold ones. But he tried to push them away a little, needing to speak first. He whispered, “Hey…hey, what’s going on?”

She rubbed her nose against his and said, “You’ll see. Just relax.”

Charlie put the bowl down and pushed his head back on the couch, that felt like a heavy load of all of a sudden, with a little spin to the room. He closed his eyes almost sleepily, it felt too good now not to, as her fingers trailed his shirt. Her warm touch was lowering, lowering to his waist, delicately playing with his belt, opening… he felt like he was at a beach, and it was time to take off his jeans and drop them, because he had his bathing suit on…

The light of the room was flickering a bit, in the corners of his eyes, as he blinked them closed tighter. There was a far away feeling of hands on his knees as she slithered down and widened his legs, and put herself on the floor in front of him, massaging his thighs and inner legs. Again moving her fingers, she  let them travel, minutes passing, up to his heavy sacs and rise, giving a small petting stroke to his hardness that she had watched all night tight in his crotch on the dance floor. She had waited for this, and now was getting him to lift up some, almost involuntarily, coaxing with her hands for him to let her take the cloth down to his knees so she could expose him and gaze upon his gorgeous erection, arched high and proud. She gave all ten fingers to the task of gently running her nails across it, higher up until she raised herself erect on her knees to feel under his shirt, his waist, his muscles, scrape across his chest hair, before she’d take his swollen head with her lips…

But when Starsky felt the hand coming higher upon him, when she grazed his left nipple, suddenly he woke up, staring in a shock at a white ceiling, sensing he had been touched in a place that felt foreign of touch. Alarmed like having been hit by a hot poker, he arched and stood, as his pants fell away to the floor. He looked down and went to retrieve them, tipping to the left more than he thought he would and tripped forward, a bit dizzy, almost on top of her, but Charlie was fast and she moved away slightly shocked but laughing.

“What are you doing? Don’t hike those back up! You’re hard!”

Starsky didn’t like her voice, her tone, her antics. “Charlie, leave me alone!”

She reached for him, still on her knees, “oh come on, you liked it! You’re turning me on, too!”

Starsky felt the dizziness, the lights too bright, and where was the door, it was a swimming, moving door somewhere on the left. He walked towards it anyway, mumbling, “No, I didn’t! I wasn’t…you’re making this happen, not me.”

She got up and grabbed his left arm, “hey, you’re not just gonna leave me dry, are you? Come on, we were having a good time.”

He pulled away easily, she let him. Starsky tied his pants, leaving the fly open, he just wanted to see if his keys were in his left pocket, they didn’t seem to be, so he went to his coat that felt like it was closer than it was on the chair by the door. He stated, “No, I, look, I’m sorry, I’m just not ready.” He found the keys. He grabbed the coat, pressing it to his chest, almost rubbing it on the chest, trying to stop feeling the memory of that strange painful tingle in his left nipple.

She just stood there, not happy one bit. She hadn’t planned for this outcome and she was miffed. But she had to play coy. “Okay, I’m sorry, maybe next time? When you feel a little more comfortable? I just thought it’s something I could do for you, seeing you’ve been alone a while.”

He startled at that. “I never told you it’d been a while. What are you talking about?”

She kept her cool as always, “I just knew I guess, from our talks. How you were on the phone.”

Starsky wasn’t sure how she could figure that, but maybe he had been transparent. “Well, even so, I like being the one in charge, okay? Not like that.”

She came a little closer, but his eyes told her to stop where she was. “Okay. I didn’t mean to offend. Can we talk on the phone more then?”

He nodded to the floor. The floor spun. It seemed to be getting worse not better. He had to agree to anything to get out of there. “Yeah, yes, okay.”

She offered a tree branch. “I call you, the day after tomorrow, okay? I’ll give you a day. It’ll be okay.”

He held on to the wall a bit with one hand. He was near the door. That’s all he wanted was the door. “Okay, see ya, Charlie.” He grabbed for the handle because anything he was saying seemed to sound weird and funny, goodbye Charlie, indeed. He took his strength and got out the door, the building and fought like mad to remember where his car was, but luckily her color under the street lights pointed her out. Thank God, he thought. I gotta get home. I gotta get to Hutch.

~~*~~

Fifteen minutes later

Hutch picked up on the first ring. “Hutch? Are you home?”

Hutch wrinkled his brow. “Of course I’m home, you’re calling me.”

“Well, I’m not home, Hutch. I’m trying to get you.”

Hutch didn’t like the sound of this. “Starsky where are you? You alright?”

“I’m at a phone booth, at Hudson and Third.” The sign was right over his head.

Hutch was standing stiff. “Starsky, you know where that is.”

“Come get me, Hutch. Get me home.”

Hutch thought immediately he was drunk. But he was doing a good job not sounding like it. “I’ll be right there, don’t move.”

Hutch was on the scene in eleven minutes. He ran up to Starsky sitting in the passenger seat of the Torino. He took to the driver’s side immediately. “You okay?” Hutch padded his arms and shoulder, checked his forehead, a crazy reaction like he was looking for a fever on a child.

Starsky nodded giggling. “Yep. Just got lost.”

Hutch slumped his back on the seat. He’s drunk, he thought. Well, at least he’d called. He started the car, heading for Starsky’s apartment.

When they got there, Starsky looked steady enough to get himself in without help. Hutch followed anyway. Starsky sauntered in first but didn’t turn on the lights. Before Hutch went two feet past the door, Starsky grabbed both his arms and led him two steps to the wall.

Hutch was used to silliness like this and held his hands on his forearms, Starsky doing the same. “Okay, what kind did you drink?”

Starsky shook his head giggling. “I had a beer or two. Uh, I had a whiskey sour at the club. No, two. Then I guess I had some rum. For flavoring. And vodka.”

Hutch grimaced. He couldn’t see enough in the dark. “Oh, boy. You know how you get with rum, Starsk. And mixing types. How much?”

Starsky mumbled. “Not much. Just for flavoring.” He giggled again.

Hutch went to pull away, he had to get some coffee started. But Starsky squeezed his forearms hard. “No! Don’t go.” And pulled him an inch from his face.

Hutch could see the light in his eyes, from the dim glow of the night light in the hallway. At this distance, Starsky looked okay, and he didn’t smell like he’d drank very much.

Then in a second’s hiccup, Starsky took Hutch’s cheeks and leaned in for a kiss, a wet and wonderful kiss, with mouth locked, pushed, then pulled away quickly, making a smacking noise heard around the world.

Hutch yanked away. “What are you doing?”

Starsky grabbed him again, coaxing gently. “Kiss me, Hutch. Kiss me back.” He did it again, he did. This time his tongue lunged into Hutch’s open mouth that was trying to say no to, to this ridiculous notion, this, this delicious coaxing, this, Hutch was losing a battle he didn’t know he was in. All of a sudden these lips, far from frail or narrow, these tender, full figured lips were the perfect portion…

Sinking, Hutch bent his head for a better sweet contortion as his tongue abandoned its need for words and instead craved the tip of Starsky’s asking, demanding one. It was sugared with a hint of chocolate, and a taste of rum, and his tongue continued to desire it until Starsky’s gentle release left no sound this time, just a wisp of magic. Then gone.

Hutch stood there numb. Tongue numb. What happened here? Starsky took Hutch’s two hands in his. He was full of demands now. He needed to know something real bad. “Take your hands and touch my chest, Hutch.” Starsky placed Hutch’s hands there mechanically. Hutch didn’t move them, just stood, a mannequin. Starsky pulled on his own shirt buttons, opening it. He moved Hutch’s hands to his breastplate, then smoothed them across to cover each breast holding his hands above them.

Starsky lowered his head. “Feels good, Hutch.”

Hutch found his shaky voice. “Starsk, what–”

“It feels safe, Hutch. Please do it. Just for a minute.”

Hutch did was he was told, Starsky was talking to his soul, and his soul wouldn’t let him go without anything, not even the smallest need.

Starsky could tell Hutch knew him. The nipples didn’t hurt or send a jolt. “She–she tried to touch me there. And I, I couldn’t let her—”

Now the situation fell into place. Hutch understood. He tried to pull away a little, but Starsky begged with his eyes.

They fell into an embrace. They had to. There was nowhere to go but close, and yet, as the kiss that overpowered both of them distanced in time from the embrace, it all was the same somehow, a desperate attempt to hold on, Hutch thought, that’s what it was. Something that the alcohol brought on to get reassured that everything was okay to go forward, that’s all it was, Hutch concluded again.

Starsky appeared unsteady and shaky all of a sudden, like he was fighting small shivers. Hutch pulled him forward and gripped his hand, coaxing him with small sentences that he’d help him to bed.

It didn’t take long for Starsky to just about pass out on top of the covers once he got there. Hutch sighed and got to undressing him from the formal clothes he didn’t wear too often. But when he got to the pants, he saw the open fly.

He stopped a minute and stood up, looking at him. So he had gone through with it, bedding this Charlie. He was just all mixed up about the scars, because it was his first time, and it probably was shocking or uncomfortable, the skin was taut in places, the nerve endings scrambled. With a new person that didn’t know him, that hadn’t rubbed lotion there or helped him bathe, they wouldn’t know how to handle the area.

Hutch finished his task, getting him down to his shorts, and covered by the quilt. Starsky was definitely out.

Hutch walked to the doorway, then looked back. The moonlight on his face through the window, it lit up those lips. Those wonderful lips. Hutch touched his own for a minute, suddenly lonely. He walked back to the bed. He had to, he just had to. He bent down, and made the contact again, very tender, very chaste. It wasn’t enough. It was too good.

He lifted. Waited. He did it again, this time running his tongue against the inner rim. That wasn’t chocolate. That was Starsky. And it was too beautiful for words, or to ever taste again.

He straightened himself and walked out, not daring another look into the moonlit face, into a place he couldn’t go.

~~*~~

Chapter 4

 

Starsky woke scratching his stomach. Looking at his clock, he quickly registered it was way past ten. Good thing it was a Sunday, or he would have been late for work.

He looked around the room to get his eyes to focus. How he’d gotten here escaped his memory, until he lifted his head and saw his clothes, organized and folded. Hutch. He had taken him home, with the Torino, and put him to bed. He got up quickly because he’d hoped he would find him occupying the couch waiting for him, but the trip to the living room concluded he wasn’t.

He looked outside and there was his own car. Hutch probably took a taxi home, it was standard procedure when these things happened. But as Starsky sat on the couch and chased the cobwebs from his brain, he wondered how he had gotten so off kilter. He’d been with Charlie all night dancing, took her home, had some ice cream with her, and then…he looked down at his briefs. He was sticky. Ut oh. Had they?

He sat down and thought it out. Of course not, she had tried to get into his pants and then he felt her hands all over him, too fast, too ticklish, he had gotten up and left. He remembered calling Hutch to come get him for some crazy reason. Then he had gotten to bed with Hutch’s help. He closed his eyes, leaning onto the back of the couch. In the middle of the night, he’d had a wet dream, a really good one he recalled. Thinking of his partner, tan, fit, running towards him on the sand, all that strength and health he had… that thought didn’t seem right, but he didn’t have any other recollection of what set him off.

Throughout the recovery, he had occasionally woken up in this condition. He had told Hutch about it, and then the doctors, who had told him it was a normal reaction when the body was coming back. He was after all incredibly fit before being gunned down, and sexually active. Still, he felt like a high school kid when it happened.

As he stared out into the room, the night before came back to him. He had talked to Hutch about what it felt like to be with Charlie, how she touched him and it felt strange to have her hands on his chest, right after– Oh, God. Right after he kissed Hutch! He grabbed at his briefs. What was he doing? He stood up quickly and looked at the wall, the wall he’d had leaned against, cradling that chin in his hands, so desirably pulling him in…

He went to the phone and seized it, beginning to dial. As quickly as it started to ring, he hung up the phone. What was he going to say? What was he thinking? He sat back down at the edge of the couch in a daze. And then the phone rang under his hands. He had no choice but to pick it up. “Hello?”

Hutch sounded nervous. “Did you just call me and hang up?’

Starsky felt his hands were sweaty. “Yeah. I got cut off I think. Why?”

Hutch could tell he just got up. “Are you alright, did you sleep okay?”

Starsky didn’t know where to start. “Yeah, a little headache, but I’m alright.”

Hutch could tell he’d have to do all the work. “You want me to come over? Talk?”

Starsky stood. “Uh, no, no come, I mean you don’t have to come over. I’m still not all together yet. Need to shower and stuff. We can talk this way.”

Hutch felt a chill down his back. “I see. Well, what happened last night?”

“You mean on the date. We went dancing, Charlie and me, and we went to her place after that.”

“I gathered that. I meant afterwards. You seemed a little off last night.”

Starsky was really sweating. “I know, and I’m sorry about that. Too much to drink, I guess.”

“Starsk, you didn’t even know where you were when I went to get you. And you definitely were strange last night.”

“I had some trouble with her advances, that’s all. It’s been so long, and it felt like she was attacking me.”

“She was what?”

Starsky tried again, “Not attacking, just pushy. But she knows what I like though, she went right for it.”

Hutch kept his curiosity in check. “Well, that’s nice, right? To use your words?”

Starsky had gotten this far without giving up anything, and Hutch hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe he could just brush it off for now. “I guess so.”

Hutch still wanted to know so much more. “And what about what happened when I brought you back, you wanted me to touch you, to…”

Starsky got nervous, “Yeah, I know, okay, I was messed up, that’s all I remember, can you leave it at that? I won’t do it again, I’ll be more careful. Guess I’m just nervous on a date still. Other than that, it meant nothing.” He slapped himself on the head with the back of his hand the minute he said it. It was wrong and he knew it.

Hutch was immediately hurt. “Is that right? Okay, fine. Fine. Well, I hope you had a good time fucking her, Starsk, then having me to play with after.”

Starsky’s breath caught, “I didn’t fu– I didn’t–”

Hutch couldn’t believe he could kiss him that way and not feel anything. “Okay, buddy. Whatever you call it. I gotta go.” Hutch hung up the phone. He couldn’t talk anymore right now. He’d been up all morning with what happened last night on his mind, not really knowing what to do about it, but not hating it either.

Hutch lifted the phone again leaving it off the hook so Starsky couldn’t call back. He had to go another route, he had thought about it all morning also. He picked up the piece of paper, pressed on the button to get a tone again and dialed. “Hello, Meredith?”

~~*~~

Meredith opened the door of the country club suite when she heard the gentle knock. “Well hello, Ken, come right in. Let me get your coat.”

Hutch looked around. “A very nice place you have here, nice location.” She’d asked him to a new place it seemed, no longer on Broadway. It looked rented with furnishings.

He could see the candles on the coffee table burning and the well garnished hors d’œuvres.

She led him in. “I made a light buffet style, that way we could talk.” He nodded gracefully.

She settled him in with a bottle of distinctive local wine, talking about what she’d learned from him at the wine tasting. She could tell, however, he had something on his mind.

“You seem troubled, Ken. Problems at work?”

He sighed. He’d have to let her in, he had no choice. There was nowhere else to go. “Just my partner. He’s dating someone and he’s having some trouble getting back on the horse as they say.”

“Is that what he told you?”

Hutch reflected. “It’s difficult to rekindle everything you had and you were after a life trauma like he had. He’s unsteady, I think, when he’s not around me. Of course, I can’t see what he does when he’s not with me. All I know is how he is in my presence. We’re so used to each other.” He let out a breath and told the truth. “Maybe too much.”

Meredith patted his leg as she reached for the little shrimps to put on his small plate. “Maybe you need to lose yourself in your own interests for awhile, and let him find his way without you.” She used two fingers to tenderly touch his earlobe, “and maybe you have to concern yourself about your needs, too.”

Hutch looked at her from the side and pondered what she said. He didn’t like hearing it, he felt defensive, he really didn’t want to talk about what Starsky did with Charlie, but what Starsky did with him. That, however, was off limits. But that voice again, the one that knew him, or reminded him of someone knowing him, it was there. It felt comforting in a strange way.

The woman in her had him somewhat perplexed. He watched her eat a cracker, the way her tongue took the bottom of it before she bit into it, and suddenly, last night’s kiss infected his whole mind. He wanted to be kissed again, like when Starsky had asked him to kiss, how he just let that tongue get into his mouth before he really clamped on…

This time it would be more what he was used to. He put the plate down swiftly and used his fingers to push the rest of that cracker in that tiny, lipsticked pout. She turned to him, and quickly swallowed, with little chance to consider a recovery, or a word, as he leaned her down towards a couch pillow and ravished her mouth with his, inflamed, under siege, impassioned. She succumbed easily, giving as well as she was getting, letting herself be opened to his will, letting him fondle her arms, and then lift her, to brush his large hands across her silky blouse, pulling on the bra strap.

He raised her up in his arms, still kissing the side of her mouth, her cheek and her ear. So he was willing after all, and ready on the spot, how she liked it, the way she recollected, reminiscent of the best man she’d ever had. She slid her fingers through his hair in response and he pulled away, just to look down at her. His infected mind pleaded with the mechanism of the moment, reminding. Starsk. Starsky had done that to his hair, with much better hands, but she would do, she’d have to do, anything to strike Starsky out of his mind before he’d go crazy.

She pushed her lips to his ear and said, “I know what you want, and I can give it all. Come with me.” She pulled away, stood up and tugged on his wrist seductively. The bedroom was ready, and the aphrodisiac in the oysters and on the shrimp probably had helped a little. He’d feel it soon, yes, and it would feel even better that it already does.

~~*~~

With only a glass and a half of wine in him, he still found himself as turned on as he’d ever felt in years. This body, prim and proper in silk and wool, when uncovered was a man’s delight, supple and firm, feminine yet forceful, wondrous but wicked. He was all over her, sensing and fondling as he hadn’t in so long, he’d forgotten the carnal pleasure even, it had stopped mattering when Starsky’s life was in the balance. He had cared about healing and vital body parts more than caressing and sexual body parts. Until last night, he hadn’t given a second thought to this kind of tactile pleasure.

Until now. And now he couldn’t stop wanting, to desire it and fondle it, to have his hands all over, much more than the need to bury his hardness into it. She tried several times to get him to engage, she opened her legs wide and pressed herself against him, but he was still resisting, spending way too much time buried between her breasts, heaving loud sighs, and she was getting tired of his need to rub his face against her skin.

He stayed away from her face and her hair, he couldn’t control his swirling thoughts, like they were traveling when he tried to concentrate, her long hairdo lacked curls, her thin lips not to his taste, and where was that chocolate, that Starskyesque tinge? In just the last twenty minutes, he felt more fervid, more power, craving hard muscle beside him and across him, but it wasn’t there, and to be reminded that her face wasn’t what he couldn’t stop thinking about was not what he needed.

“Darling…” she said to the top of his head, “you can play with me first if that’s what you like.” She tried to push his head lower, making him kiss his way down to her waist and then further if that’s what was on his mind.

But it wasn’t, and within a few more minutes, she was sure of it. He was acting fuzzy and slow. She’d had enough already, she didn’t like to wait, she wanted him but wasn’t in love with him, she didn’t have to put up with his hesitations.

She turned him away from her, to her side, and turned him on his back. He kept his eyes closed, with a tender smirk on his face. He was floating and she knew it.

She widened his legs and set herself between them, her knees against his. She leaned down and said in his ear, “I know what you like. You’re just like me. I’ll show you I remember.”

His mind was playing tricks on him, that he was making happen. Starsk, show me you remember. Tell me it meant something. Because I think it did. I wish it did.

A rush of warmth collided with his center, wet soft pulling, a heated mouth, an experienced tongue, that surrounded and suckled and fed on him. He heard his own voice attempting to be heard, moans he couldn’t help losing to the room, trying to hold back the name that went with the image in his mind, and then he felt it– probing deep, two fingers entering him, seeking and pushing so slippery, until that place, that bolt of current, he screamed out because he hadn’t felt this, not since, not since, oh God, he was losing any chance to stop a torrid rush of himself pouring out. This girl, who was she, that she should know this, she should do it like this, she was his partner, no, he barely knew her, but he knew her, where was his partner, the thought of him close, his desire, her aggressive insistence, he was lost in the dual sensation, and her talent, the onslaught of her, it had been so long, ahh, ahhhh….everything was coming to a head, he cried it out being drained of all sense…. It was so good…. “Starsk!”

His back arched, lifted off the bed in his lustful epiphany. He barely noticed as she took herself away, furious that she’d heard that word, until she grabbed his chin and whipped it to one side, spitting vehemently what she hadn’t swallowed onto the floor.

She left him, spent and useless, looking on his closed eyes with disgust, but now she knew, she knew for sure. He had lied to her, he was a gay, she knew it now like she knew it then. He’d come here to prove some crazy thing, when upset with his real flame. And now he’d pay. She’d make sure of it.

~~*~~

Chapter 5

 

After waking at one in the morning, Hutch revived himself enough to gather his clothes and go into the living room of Meredith’s suite, to find she wasn’t even there. He couldn’t understand that at all, that he would just be left alone in someone’s apartment. All taken apart as he was, shirt all wrinkled, pants crumpled, hair a muss, he was actually glad whatever message she was sending suited him. He left immediately.

He felt a little fuzzy brained, but he knew well enough to fight off the headache and get somewhere he really needed to go. Something was wrong, very wrong, with everything that had gone on in the last two weeks. He was sick at heart, flustered and tired, and that was just the surface. His stomach churned with acid. His back felt overstretched by the sex. He slapped his head as he drove. The sex. He leaned his elbow on the wheel. It shouldn’t have happened liked that. It shouldn’t have happened at all.

He had only one panicked answer, and that was to question everything. She was just a stranger, a girl he met. He had done this before, met a woman, liked her, enjoyed her. And she felt familiar, of his taste. But then again, even a blind one night stand could have felt more romantic. Nothing made sense.

He certainly hadn’t pleased her, he knew that. That wasn’t like him. Then again, was he the one that had been selfish? No, he hadn’t ask for what she did. He didn’t mean to feel that with her. Now he felt guilty he had, maybe only as a reaction to what he knew Starsky had felt with his girl. But why was he trying to keep the score even? Did he actually feel jealous of Starsky’s ability to date?

This thinking was scrambled and making him lose track of his driving. He needed to get out of this car. But first he had to get himself where he belonged, what called him like a magnetic force. He had to get to his partner.

~~*~~

It was very late, the lights were out, but he had to go in. Starsky would understand. Even if he was mad, he would prefer to know where he was and who he was with. He’d let him be angry if he had to be, but he’d show himself and take it where it landed.

He used his key and walked in gently. He called out softly in the hall, not daring to shock him in his bedroom. “Starsk? It’s me.”

He heard him get up in a fit. “Hutch?” Starsky met him in hurried steps, hitting the light switch on the hallway wall. Hutch stood there all frumpled. Starsky took one look and was frustrated with worry. “Where the hell have you been?” Starsky eyed him up and down, “and why do you look like shit?”

Hutch’s shoulders sank. He’d screwed up, he really had. He turned away and muttered, “It’s a long sick story and I’m not happy about it.” He walked himself to the couch and dropped like dead weight.

Starsky wasn’t ready to take pity. “I called you back like twenty times. I went over. You weren’t there. I waited. I checked with Huggy. I even called the station. Why the fuck did you—”

“ALRIGHT! I hear you!” He lowered his voice in forfeit, “You’re right, I fucked up.”

Starsky leaned on the chair diagonal to the couch. Hutch did look awful. Starsky was immediately scared. He sat down, asking with a quieter voice, “What happened?”

Hutch was loaded for bear inside himself. “I wish I knew. I wish I knew what the hell’s been going on since weeks ago. Since we met these two –chicks!”

Sitting, Starsky began the interrogation. “You were with Meredith.”

Hutch looked at him painfully, rubbing his hands on his thighs the way he did when he was nervous. “Yeah, she said she was going to call today anyways. And I needed to be with someone. Someone to talk to. So I was with her. Or I should say, she was with me.” Starsky put his chin on his knuckles, leaning his elbow on his knee. He watched Hutch for a second. Hutch felt scrutinized. “What?”

Starsky leaned back. “I think you need to tell me what happened in great detail, Hutch. Not to pry but to understand.”

Hutch put his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. “It’s late. And I don’t know if I can say it all right now. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

Starsky got rigid. “So I’m supposed to just accept you’ve been gone for thirteen hours on some mystery tour…”

Hutch stood up. “I just don’t want to talk about Meredith!”

Starsky stood too. “But you want me to tell you what happened on my dates when I get home!”

Hutch fumed. “Why, why are we fighting?”

“I’m not fighting, I just want to get to the truth!”

Hutch suddenly felt the sting, “Oh, the truth! Like the truth about that kiss you landed on me! You didn’t want to talk about that!”

Starsky reeled, “So that’s why you left me high and dry and took off, to punish me and go bed that girl!”

“I didn’t bed her, you bastard!”

Starsky was on a physical edge now. He slapped the outside of Hutch’s arm like an Italian. “So, what’dya call this, huh? Ruffled chic?”

Hutch pushed his shoulder, “Screw off! Don’t touch me or I’ll—”

“You’ll what, floor me? Try it, buddy, I’m ready, I can take you, don’t worry!” Starsky lunged towards him, his nose flaring, pissed.

Hutch backed away quickly, his hands up, “NO! No, Starsk! Stop!!” Starsky did stop, hearing that command voice. Hutch begged sincerely. “I don’t want this. Not us. Please.” Hutch looked down on the floor, “I just want to straighten things out, clear up the problem…”

Starsky’s face filled with pain, hearing that word “us.” “Then just clear up the problem.”

Hutch felt nervous, and started tucking in his shirt on one side….tucking in his…. He looked up with vengeance. His mind was struck by a horrid memory. He gasped, “Oh, God!” He reached for Starsky’s forearms, almost tripping to him. “Oh, God, no Starsk!”

Starsky came forward to catch the grip, both hands, forearm to forearm. He barely opened his mouth, “What is it?”

Hutch looked panicked and wet with fear. “It’s Kira.” Hutch looked away in shock.

Starsky gripped him harder to pull his eyes back. “What are you talking about? Kira? The Kira?”

Hutch pulled away, wringing his hands. His mind blazed when he started tucking in his shirt, along with the words “clear up the problem,” like that awful day when Starsky looked at him with that angry pain, that disgust, like he just did, and the punches that Hutch took in the gut that he’d never forget…

Starsky watched him pace away a few steps. Hutch’s demeanor had changed so rapidly. “Hutch? What do you mean to bring up Kira for?”

Hutch turned sharply to face him. “Because it’s her! Meredith is…” Hutch eyes turned inward, “wait…she could be…” Hutch felt his lungs catch and grabbed the front of his own shirt.

Starsky came forward. “You’d better sit down. You haven’t gotten any sleep.” He lead him to the couch and sat next to him, keeping his hand on his arm, slightly fondling it.

Hutch looked at Starsky, speaking quickly. “Tell me what she looks like.”

“I never met her.”

“No, no Charlie. Is she short? Brunette?”

Starsky still wasn’t following, but he knew Hutch was onto something. “No, she’s a redhead, slightly auburn. Above the shoulder, wavy. About five five.”

Hutch added, “Meredith’s a brunette, long hair, like my wife. But she’s about the same height as Charlie. Brown eyes.”

Starsky continued, “Charlie’s are like emerald green.”

“But that could be contacts.”

Starsky pulled back a little, “So what are you saying? That they’re the same person? How can that be?”

“You said she lived off Hudson. At that rent to let place.”

Starsky nodded. “Is that where you went?”

“No, Meredith is at a country club condo, but she just rented it. Or maybe it could be someone else’s place she’s borrowing.”

Starsky was starting to gather facts like his profession brought on naturally. “That seems a little far fetched, Hutch.”

Hutch touched Starsky’s arm for assurance. “Is it? Hear me out. This girl meets you at Angelo’s, just happens to practically run you over. Then another girl, just a day later, happens to have my phone bill and meets me at Helene’s. And each date, we’ve always gone on a different night, leaving one of us home alone. And we never get calls at the same time.”

“But Hutch, that’s all possible even with two girls. Maybe…what about what she looks like naked?”

Hutch rested his back on the pillow. “Well, you’d know more than I do buddy. I didn’t exactly sleep with mine.”

“I didn’t either. I told you that. You didn’t believe me.”

Hutch touched his wrist. “Tell me if you touched her, her breasts. The size.”

Starsky shook his head slowly. “I never touched her breasts. I had some ice cream with her. It started making me feel woozy, and I asked her if there was liquor in it. She said rum and vodka, for flavoring. Then my head started to spin. I laid it back on the couch closing my eyes and the next thing I knew she had my pants down and she was gonna, you know, but just before she put her mouth there, she ran her hand up my chest with those nails and I jumped up and told her to stop.”

He thought about Meredith. Her nails were plain and flush, cut low. Hutch wasn’t going to mince words. “So you didn’t even barely touch her.”

Starsky kept his eyes on Hutch, assuring the facts. “No. She kissed me once, I kissed back a little. That’s all. But I’d say from looking she was about a C cup.”

Hutch shook his head. “Meredith is smaller than that. A lot smaller.” He sat up a little, a sharp pain in his forehead made him grab his brow.

Starsky wiped at the side of Hutch’s face. “Hey, you want some aspirin? Water?”

Hutch turned slightly and took that hand in his. He wasn’t going to let it go, and gave a look deep into Starsky’s eyes to be sure he knew. “Starsk, there’s something going on here, I just know it. The way this Meredith acted with me tonight, I felt… I felt something I know only she….Kira knew. Her and my wife. And Van is gone. It’s gotta be her. Whether there’s one girl or two I don’t know, but there’s something definitely wrong. And…” Hutch put his other hand on Starsky’s and tightened his grip, “and it would kill me if it did anything to hurt us again.” Hutch let go and put both of his hands on his own face completely covering it. “God, please don’t let anything happen to how we feel about each other.”

Starsky felt his own heart crack. This hurt somehow, he could feel it crushing Hutch. He put his arms around him, as wide and as much as he could. He leaned in and squeezed lovingly, saying softly, “No, never again, never letting women separate us, make us doubt each other.”

Hutch leaned into the embrace, feeling the only relief he’d felt for days. “Then why does it happen? Why do we fight the minute there’s girls between us?”

Starsky sincerely answered, “I don’t know yet. But it’s true, after all these years, it seems to be what always happens.”

Hutch started to rock a little in Starsky’s arms. “Starsk, I’m exhausted.”

Starsky began caressing him with his open fingers. What he’d say next, there was no choice, his heart was screaming it. “Let’s go to bed, Hutch.”

But Hutch wasn’t ready to be separated. “I don’t want to lay on the couch yet.”

Starsky squeezed him, adding a little to the rocking. His lips found his earlobe and he gave it a little peck. He whispered, “I don’t want you on the couch either. I want you close to me, on the other side of the bed.”

Hutch lifted his face, near in shock. “What?”

Starsky smiled slightly but stayed serious, “You heard me. Come share the bed with me. Like you did a few times when I was really ill. Let’s be together, in trust and safe. Please, I couldn’t stand it any other way.”

Hutch’s eyes watered looking into that face. That face he loved so much, that held him in kind, respected and revered. He closed his eyes to keep a tear from escaping. God, he was so tired.

Starsky helped him up. “You can have the bathroom, I’ll get you some sweats and a T-shirt. Get you out of this wrinkled frump.”

Hutch let Starsky lead him, still attached with an arm around him, forgetting everything else for the moment. He didn’t care about anything else, as long as he was here, attended by the only soul he trusted and loved.

~~*~~

Chapter 6

 

Starsky woke first, and grabbed the bathroom. He looked into his face, shaving quickly. He dreaded waking up his partner that had to go to the same place he was going, the office, with less than five hours sleep and some major unsorted mess between them. Hutch looked terrible.

The few minutes free they had between problems and chases all day they shared rather quiet in the car. Hutch was frustrated most of the day with everything, short tempered from exhaustion and obviously paranoid. Starsky just bounced his way through it, laying low and not saying much. He just churned internally thinking about Hutch’s one person theory. To him, it didn’t make a lot of sense.

In early afternoon, they were called back to the station for paperwork. Starsky could see Hutch’s energy was almost gone.

By two o’clock, Starsky came clean with Dobey about the little coffee pot. He apologized they were running a joke on him and took the blame for the whole department. Dobey held a smirk on his face because he knew better. “You don’t think I ran up the line like you bunch of clowns and made my Captain nuts? I know it ain’t all you. So why do I get the feeling your confession is going to cost me something?”

Starsky went to shut the door and came back to the desk. “Did you ever hear of déjà vu, Cap’n?”

Dobey leaned back in his chair. This better be good. “Go on.”

“Hutch and I have been dating these girls.”

Dobey gave him a tired look. “I’m not a therapist or a preacher, son.”

Starsky put his hand up in a plea. “If someone was running a scam on us, Cap’n, let’s say an ex-perp, what would it take, say for two different people to be one person?” Starsky paced a little. “See, Hutch thinks these girls, who showed up at almost the same time, that we didn’t pick ourselves, they just found us, could be the same person.” He upped his eyebrows, his way of asking sincerely for advice.

Dobey could see he was serious. “That takes some doing. Disguises, planning, and money.”

Starsky nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. But it’s possible, right? We’ve been talking about the here and when about it. And if we consider it further, we have to think about why more than how.”

Dobey put his head on his chin. “Does Hutch know you’re telling me this?”

“Not yet, but I’ll tell him. The reason I’m letting you know is Hutch is pretty bad off, tired, worn out. We both could use some time to figure this out. I can’t say more now, but we might even know who this is, and if we do, it could involve our jobs.”

Dobey considered, “You remember at the Academy the course on perpetrators and psychopaths. Over ninety percent are men.”

“But there are some women, especially if they’ve been scorned.” Starsky shrugged.

Dobey nodded. “Okay, take tomorrow. Keep me posted. If you figure this to be any kind of retaliation against either of you for some case you ran, we have to know. Start processing leads. We can’t let what happened with Gunther’s ring start all over again, or even it to be a arm of that situation that didn’t get wiped out.”

Starsky shook his head. “No, that’s not what or who we think this might be.”

Dobey was ready to get back to what he was working on. “Keep me posted. Either way.”

“Yes, sir.” Starsky prepared to leave.

Dobey added on his way out, “And leave my coffee pot alone of I’ll tell Edith on you.” Starsky had to giggle under his breath at that.

~~*~~

By the time the day ended, having brought some food from Hug’s to eat at home, the car just seemed to drive itself right to Starsky’s place. Hutch hadn’t uttered a word, until Starsky parked the Torino a block away in the back of the convenience store on the side street near his house. Starsky locked it up, and they began to walk. He’d done this before, when he didn’t want people to know he was home. He gave a nod to the owner’s wife that saw him drive in through the window. She knew they were cops and like a good citizen she’d watch the car for him from their upper apartment if he left it there for the night.

Hutch helped carry the food and walked along. He murmured under his breath. “You’re on high alert, huh?”

Starsky nodded to the ground, answering, “when it comes to you and me, you bet. We got a lot to figure out. And Meredith knows where you live.”

They walked quickly, and got to his place fast. Inside, Hutch was about to turn on the lamp, on the end table by the couch. Starsky gripped his wrist and shook his head no. Hutch quickly said, “but it’ll be night soon.”

Starsky kept his two fingers around that wrist as he tugged gently towards the bedroom. “Do you think I care about that? I don’t have a problem trusting you with me in the dark, partner.”

Hutch scurried to follow, happy to hear that word “partner.” He’d love to hear it ten more times in the next hour. He wanted that security, knowing they were. He craved it like air.

Starsky took off his holster and put it and the gun by his bed table. Hutch did the same on the other side. He’d never seen Starsky keep it in the bedroom. Looking at each other’s faces, they were as serious as they were glum. They both knew there was a lot to sort through.

Starsky padded Hutch’s side of the bed to encourage him. This would be his place now. They could protect each other this way, figure things out in whispers. They could share their plans in private. And maybe they could tell the truth from the deceptions.

Hutch was still tentative as he took his place fully clothed on top of the bedspread. He said nervously, “so you’re not home.”

Starsky was cold and determined that no one was going to interrupt them now. “Nope. Not until we figure this out. We’re incommunicado with everyone.”

Hutch swallowed. It actually made him feel good Starsky was setting the stage. “Saw you went to talk to Dobey.”

Starsky clamped his hands together, laying on his back. “Yes, I asked him for tomorrow. He gave it to us.”

Hutch gave a long, loud sigh. “Thanks, Starsk.” He needed that break. “But you had to tell him something.”

“I told him we have a problem. Someone doing some abnormal things. And I asked him for his opinion that one person might be posing as two. He said it would take disguises, planning and money. I can see that’s just for starters.”

Hutch knew exactly where Starsky was going. “Because it would take a certain psychopathology, and a pretty menacing motive.”

“That’s right. The question is what would she want? To go through all this? If it’s even Kira. Because she sure looks different.”

“It is her. I know it.” Hutch turned to look at Starsky. “You have to believe me, it has to be.”

Starsky turned to Hutch’s asking face. “I do believe you. That Meredith is. But first let’s talk about how we can tell that Charlie and Meredith could be the same person. All we got is identical height.”

Hutch had this on his mind all day. “Outside appearance, she can change clothes, style of clothes, meet at different places, have different accents, take on different characters like an actress. She makes sure she doesn’t leave messages for us with the other so we can’t sense any similarity in voice. She wears contacts, wigs, and she pads her bra with one of us. The one she doesn’t undress with. And she meets us with separate methods. To me, that all can be done by one person.”

Starsky added the facts in his mental list. “But you know, Hutch, that could be the set up of a psycho perp that doesn’t know us. A stalker. But I have to ask now, how could it be Kira? How did that occur to you? Because I didn’t sense that, not yet.”

“Not even in the way she danced, or moved her body? Her waistline or hips? Did she say anything that sounded familiar?”

Starsky searched his mind. “The one thing that bugged me is she said I had I’d been alone awhile. I never told her that. But she said I gave her that impression. I let it go at the time.” Starsky paused. “As for her body, she seems to have changed a little. Fuller. But yeah, years ago, I’d been with her before…I hate now to call it making love…guess I have to admit this….about nine times. Back then when….” Starsky cleared his throat audibly. They’d never talked about this, they wouldn’t have dared then. It was too raw between them. “When I slept with her, it was the same every time. Missionary position. Only once I let her…blow me. But it didn’t happen this time, she never got her mouth on me. So I didn’t sense any familiarity. Hutch, truth is, this time she never took off her clothes with me yet. She just messed with me, I told you that.”

Hutch nodded. He patted Starsky on the shoulder for a second. “I appreciate your candor, I know this dredges up a lot.”

Starsky gave his hip a little pat. “Hutch, we never did talk about all that stuff back then. We certainly didn’t compare notes who did what with her. I was furious, then. I’m sorry now, but…”

Hutch turned to Starsky, “don’t, it’s okay. It was a long time ago. And we both know this wouldn’t be coming up if we didn’t have a suspicion we have her in our sights. And she’s not just playing around. Because she would have had to get numerous face jobs to pull this off.”

Starsky shuddered. “That’s heavy. She’d have to want to get to us real bad. I didn’t even see the connection. Her cheeks, lips, eyes are different.”

Hutch stared out above at Starsky’s canopy. “Well, I’m sure she didn’t go through all that to give us a clue. It is amazing what they can do. They got implants now. They definitely added something to that chin. And her teeth are redone. But that’s what got me a few times, the way she ticked than chin up, like she used to do. That’s what I was saying at first, about how she reminds me of someone. She must have picked that long brown wig for me. Because of Vanessa. That threw me off easily, I never even thought blond. That’s all outside appearance, though. But still, once in a while, that voice, the inflection…”

Starsky considered what Hutch said. “But last night you were sure of something that she did, more than that stuff, right?”

Hutch knew the question was asked carefully because it was loaded. “You’ve been honest with me, Starsk, and now I want to be, too. It was something she did sexually.” Hutch put his arm across his own eyes, he needed the dark. “Years ago, when I took her home that first night, we talked about sex. What she likes, what I like. She was always pretty candid. She asked me what positions I like, what I used to do with my wife. She said it was all to figure out how to have recreational sex.”

Starsky gripped the bedspread. “Nice. I didn’t figure out then she was playing me. We never had talks like that. Then again, she probably knew I wasn’t the type to talk about it. The few hurried times we had together while on the case, I just took over if you know what I mean. She didn’t question much, she just jumped right in. She made me feel sometimes she knew a lot more about sex than I did, but she never said it. I wanted to prove myself so bad to her in the end that I just pounced into it, all passion, every time we had a night.”

Hutch took his arm away from his head and put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder. “Starsk, it’s okay. I think she had many, many partners before us. She was playing me, too. But I told her some things, that Vanessa and I used to do. We were married some years, Starsky. We were open with each other, we thought we’d be forever. We experimented with…with positions and props. I have to tell you this, okay?”

“Go on. I’m not a nun, just Jewish.”

Hutch laughed at that. But he settled quickly, by taking Starsky’s hand and entwining his fingers. Starsky squeezed back in encouragement. It was getting dark now, and that helped.

“From the start, Van wanted to try everything. We did it standing up, or with her upside down, even in a public park in daylight under a trestle just a few trees away from a picnic. She even got us into a swinger’s group for awhile. I never took on any other woman, but she wanted to try two men. So I let her have another guy one time, with me inside her the normal way. But then things changed fast after that.”

Starsky wouldn’t dare move, but Hutch took his hand away. He let him. “Then she started buying props. She bought dildos, vibrators. She had me watch her, then asked me to participate using them to please her. And then, then she started using them on me.” Hutch sighed. “It was getting to the end of the relationship, because everything was starting to be cold and mechanical. But it was also the only way we communicated anymore. She liked forcing me to take her bossiness. She got into light bondage, using my handcuffs. She wanted me to start wearing anal plugs and all that…”  Starsky started squirming. “I’m sorry. I’m grossing you out.”

Starsky patted his hip again. “No, you’re not. We’ve seen a lot in our careers. Remember that wife beating case? Or the Tibbets and Pearson case? The cults? It’s just that I can’t believe she was so different in public. In front of me.”

“People can be deceiving, Starsk. But I have to admit something. There was part of that experimentation that I liked. Some I did for her, but some of it was for me. And with Kira, we’d talked about some of that.”

Starsky let out a breath. “So something happened last night. Between you.”

Hutch wiped at his temples, keeping his eyes closed. “I went over there because I thought you’d slept with Charlie. I guess I just needed my own…date. I got there and she had some food ready for us. We talked about wine. We drank some. And then, I just started to feel like I wanted to kiss her, like I was getting all hot. I did have some oysters, and you know what they do.”

Starsky chuckled, “Yeah, but I could never stand those wiggly things.”

“But there was something else, like I started to feel…” He was searching for the word, then said, “high.” Hutch sat up on his elbows. “Wait a minute.” He sat up on the bed at the edge, with his feet on the floor. “She put something in that food. Or the wine! I felt…like I’d had a toke, Starsk. Like in college the few times I tried it!”

Starsky sat up too, and sat Indian style. “You mean, that’s why I couldn’t get myself to remember where I drove? Why I couldn’t stop the spinning feeling? I thought it was all that rum and stuff in the ice cream.”

Hutch turned towards him, almost pitch dark but they could see the shine in their eyes. “You can only put so much booze in a recipe, Starsk, maybe a few ounces in the whole batch.”

Starsky hit his head with his hand. “Fuck, she drugged us. Just enough to feel–”

Hutch spat it out, “horny.” Hutch put his hand up to explain, “see, between not having gotten any for over a year, and her advances, the booze we did drink, that stuff, and acting like we had something to prove on a date–”

Starsky wiped at his face, “you’re saying we walked right into her trap like two stupid squirrels in a walnut store.”

Hutch couldn’t even laugh. “Pretty much.”

They both sat there stunned. Starsky wondered, “what was it?”

Hutch knew. “THC derivative. From the plant. Probably oil. You can cook with it, add it to food. It’s like baking a batch of brownies. Makes you mellow and tired more than high. But it makes you hungry. And hot for sex. It don’t take much to be potent. Especially for people who never use it, that first time can be a surprise.”

Starsky smacked his hands together. “Hutch, that has to prove that was her. Two people wouldn’t use the same modality.”

Hutch stood and started to pace. “There’s something else.” He’d have to just say it. “I did kiss her. She was pulling me to the bed in a matter of minutes. She said she could give me what I want. Like she knew what that was. I never heard a girl say that on a first time. She took her clothes off, she was completely nude. I was, too. But it was dark, no lights. I was on top of her, but I couldn’t kiss her anymore, I just put my head on her breasts. She’s like she was, Starsk. Small breasted. She tried to push me to go down on her, but I kept feeling like I was floating. Then she said, ‘I know what you like. You’re just like me. I’ll show you I remember.’ ”

Hutch stopped pacing and sat on the bed’s edge. “Then, she flipped me over and she got on top. She put her mouth on my penis. Except with me, she got me off. Like a rocket.”

Starsky didn’t know what to say. This was difficult, to have to admit all this. But he had to encourage. “You didn’t know, Hutch.”

Hutch cleared his throat painfully. His voice got low as he rubbed at his temples again, with his back to Starsky still sitting up. “There’s more. She got me so wild because she put her fingers in my anus. Like she did years ago. Because I had told her that is what I liked that Van did. Only she could have known how to do it exactly like that, how to move and which…” he gulped, “which fingers.”

The room got dead quiet. Starsky ever so gently reached for a shoulder with his hand. Hutch actually welcomed the touch by leaning back. “It was exactly, exactly the same. She knew, Starsk. It’s her.”

Starsky blew air out of his mouth. There was no mincing words. “We’re in trouble, Hutch.”

~~*~~

Chapter 7

 

“Thanks, Mitchell. You’re paid in full.” Kimberly Rachel got off the phone with a smirk on her face. It was on her face often. An old friend of Montgomery’s, this aged old man was a pushover, lending her the country club place for at least another week. She’d procured her “clients” well, getting favors for her favors. As long as she put out what they wanted, which was something fast and easy that wouldn’t muff up their clothes too much and the wife would never do for them.

Thinking about those wives, the memory came back of being in that place right after Ken, her old lover, left her with little but a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn’t going to be shunned again, like with Starsky the night before. She’d had time to catch two drinks and pick up a needy dick in a bar and get hers at Charlie’s place.

Face it, men were easy. Orgasms were fairly easy. But getting over that gorgeous blond that she’d pined for continually for months after he walked away hanging across someone else’s leather jacket was something else.

Meeting him after starting to date Starsky turned out to be problematic at first, seeing she was already having her cake with his partner. How did she know they were so close, such pals, before she decided she wanted to eat Hutch too? She did love them both at the same time, in her own way. Love, as in love to have them in the sack.

For she loved how Starsky’s body was nothing but heat and muscle. He was a turn on standing still. Too bad he wanted to make everything get serious. She’d bumped into that type over and over. Love me forever, let me own you. That was a big forget it. But she could play along anytime with Starsky, with that bod bent over and manhandling her.

Then Hutch had to come along, all chiseled and hunky. She could see right through his thin pants he was into boxers, the way he hung loose like a horse. But he was special for another reason. She could really get him to confess his sexual experiences. And he’d tried a lot of variants. That’s what she wanted to know about, and experience herself. He wasn’t trying to marry her, he was trying to light up some lonely nights. And he wasn’t afraid to give it to her good.

Especially when it came to the incensed competition between the two men when they all served on the same case. A dance hall, drinks, close waltzing, dress up, that moment had it all, and she was the focus; she could have them both in one day with just a little work. It was exciting because it was forbidden. It was a rush because it was satisfying. And it fed her ego like nothing else because she was the one.

That day was an example, when he came over to lay it on the line. He was so insistent, to keep Starsky considered. She still had Starsky’s love in her body, and there he was, not unwilling to add his seed, almost desperately. That session Hutch left no stone unturned, giving it to her relentlessly, filling her numerous times every way and place there was. He fucked her to the ultimate. She never had it like that, before or since.

Wasn’t it her luck that those two had to go ruin it with a schoolyard duel. She had to kick them both out. Then she decided, she was going to choose Hutch. He’d keep it fun, he’d give it to her backwards and forwards. He knew how to play, and wouldn’t bring her gifts and rings.

But they came with a plan of their own, and it was the one thing she wouldn’t do: let them be in charge, two against one. She didn’t even have time to absorb it, obviously they had discussed it amongst themselves, and they were comfortable with it. Unless it was all a ruse. Unless they were together all along. It didn’t make sense to think that, the way they fought over her initially, but if she did take them both, they might eventually want each other to watch, and then even swap her out completely. That wouldn’t work. She wasn’t into threesomes. And she couldn’t watch two men doing it without her, they’d never come back from that once they had it. Not the way they felt about each other. It would just be a matter of time and she’d be yesterday’s pop tart.

No, men were better stupid. Something to ride hot and fast. These two had caused her so much emotional struggle she went into a spiral after their run. That’s what got her into trouble at her job, and eventually took her down. It was all their fault, the two of them, right from the beginning. Because of who they were.

~~*~~

Starsky handed Hutch the mustard and Hutch took it mutely. They’d gotten up to eat the soup and sandwiches they had Huggy pack up for them. All talked out for a minute, they just ate apart, one at the table, one on the coffee table, trying to get their bearings.

“Wanna another soda, Hutch?” Starsky offered. He didn’t even bother to get an answer, he just set it down. Hutch took it and drank half of it with one swig. It had been a tough session, talking all that out. He was glad that part is over with.

After Starsky crinkled his wax papered remains, he walked over to the bamboo chaise. They had a candle on, that was all. It was all they could take after all that talk.

Hutch wiped at his own face. He leaned back on the couch. “God, I’m exhausted.”

“I am too,” Starsky admitted. “I’m up for a shower and bed. You?”

Hutch nodded. “Sure, I’ll go after you. Then I’ll settle here on the–”

The phone rang. They both jumped like two nervous rabbits. They stared at each other as it kept ringing.

Starsky walked over to it. “Well, should I?”

“As long as she doesn’t know where you live, I guess. What else can we do?” Hutch offered.

Starsky picked up the phone. It was Huggy. “Huggy. Thank God, it’s you.”

Huggy laughed, “What were you expecting, Whistler’s Mother?”

Starsky sat down with the long cord next to Hutch. “No, just on a bad one, Hug. Laying low.”

“Well then, I just wanted to offer an olive branch. It’s called breakfast and din din that I’ll bring over and drop at your doorstep tomorrow A.M., since you told me you’re going undercover.”

Starsky leaned the handset so Hutch could listen. “Yeah, I did hint at that. At least for a day, Huggy. Hutch and I have to set up a strategy of some sort. I appreciate you providing the grub.”

“Well, that’s only the half of it. Seems there’s a pretty little miss is down here on the mike as we speak.”

Starsky froze. Huggy had told him he’d expanded the open mike to Monday night as well as Tuesday because of the popularity. Hutch felt his stomach want to hurl up his food.

“You mean Charlie?” It was a silly question since Huggy hadn’t met her, but Starsky had told him about her in general.

“Don’t know who she is, but this chick came in here asking for you ten minutes after you walked out tonight. You want me to tell her to call you?”

Starsky barked, “God, no, no Hug! I mean, we’re having some issues. Don’t tell her anything, you hear me?”

Huggy was insulted. “Okay, lighten up. I keep it cool. I’m on your side, bro.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. Look, can you make sure she stays? I’m gonna drive over, okay? But I don’t want her to know I’m going to be there. I just want to take a look at her from the kitchen, you got it?”

Huggy was confused but he trusted them. “Okay, whatever you say. I’ll hold her on account of ogling.”

Starsky let out a breath. “Thanks. I’ll be right over.” He hung up the phone.

Hutch looked white as a ghost in winter. Starsky touched his arm. “Hutch, this is our chance. We’ll I.D. her from the kitchen window. She’ll never see us if the lights are on her up there.

Hutch turned to him, still rigid. “I feel sick.”

Starsky put his arm around him. “You’re going to be alright. You’re with me. We’re going to figure this out. Get a hold of yourself. This is the first step, a positive I.D.”

Hutch shuttered, his spine stiff as a stick. But he knew Starsky was right, so he nodded and stood.

~~*~~

Kimberly Rachel took her turn quickly at the mike.  Her eyes were all for an Italian type she’d taken a drink with at the bar, a thespian sort that enjoyed radical poetry. She’d made sure Starsky or Hutch were nowhere to be found, checking for cars before she came in, and asking for them directly. Huggy didn’t recognize her from the past either. This is what she wanted to know.

But when the opportunity came to pick up a perspective toy for the night, she figured why not. She took her place at the corner mike ready to pipe her favorite E.R.A. movement poem.

“Here’s a work I admire by a gal called Moe Hegan:

Equal and Right

The take of a man
Is to take of a woman
What’s hers and his alike
But not for her to take upon her own
I relieve myself of this crown
Elate that relation is circumspect
When desire is its output, and possession, outcome
Fortitude, this face, or chest you constantly stare
Rub, or clink with teeth
My life your teat, to steal and cleave
As my mind and intellect drown in your choices
But, oh, you must hear the voices
No longer sweet, to lull your from the sea
For we are free, as times are turning
Disgusting you as our bras are burning
As our minds work in conjunction
Not concubines that function only as your mistresses
In containment, or society trophies to serve your tea
We ride in numbers, and fight as surrogates
For our solidarity, in this movement
We are hearts, not harlots, thoughts more than toys
We are made equal, not less than men, boys,
Our vaginas belong to us, and its pleasure also
For man replaced is called a dildo.
As women make what we choose to take.”

“You tell ’em, sister!” yelled a drunk patron. She nodded quickly and scooted away from the stage. She looked for her potential Italian, but he had left quickly after the third stanza. Slightly riled, she threw it up to men not having a sense of humor. The bar no longer appealed to her, she’d hunt elsewhere for tonight, and find another potential down the street.

Starsky raced to the back door, almost out of the car while it was still moving. Hutch took his time shutting his door. As Starsky entered the kitchen, Huggy put up his hands, “I think she slipped past me, bro, I don’t see her now.”

Starsky rushed by him anyway, and peeked through the doorway he opened a sliver. Nothing. He took a bold step and went right in. But she was not among the crowd.

As he turned back into the kitchen, Huggy apologized again. “She managed to scare half the patrons with quite the ditty about women power or something.”

Starsky was flustered and barely listening. “What?”

“Something about I am woman roaring.”

Starsky bobbed around Huggy, “What’d she look like?”

Huggy gave him a grimace. “A fox.”

Starsky shook his head impatiently. “No, no, her hair. What color was her hair? How long?”

Huggy answered, “Dirty blond. Shoulder.”

Starsky wiped his forehead. Could have been anyone. Suddenly, he looked around. “Where’s Hutch?”

Huggy pointed to the back door. “He never came in, is he out there?”

Starsky ramped up and ran out. He saw Hutch at the corner of the building by the trash bins. He was crouched, holding on to the edge.

Starsky practically flew the twenty steps and fell to his knees. Hutch had vomited, and looked pale as paste.

“Hutch! Hutch…” He grabbed his elbow tenderly to steady him.

Hutch looked up. He gave Starsky a tormented look, rasping, “I just saw a blond Meredith…”

Starsky helped pull his partner up. “Come on, I’ll get us home.”

~~*~~

Chapter 8

 

Starsky told Huggy quickly he had to take Hutch back home, he’d been sick. Starsky took the Torino, and backed out of the alley. Huggy shook his head as they left. Whatever was going on with those two didn’t make sense to him.

Once at Starsky’s, Hutch went in and took to a kitchen chair with his hands in his hair, looking woozy. Starsky started a bath, lit a few candles and came back, eying him sideways as he got him some drinking water. “You alright?”

Hutch nodded tiredly. “I guess. We only learned one thing. She likes wigs.”

“Yeah, I guess she does. Except we still don’t know which one she is, or both, or who.”

Hutch wiped at his eyes, trying to straighten up. “so how the hell are we going to do that?”

They both looked at each other quietly. Starsky anted up, “You know how. One of us has to date her again.”

Hutch put his head in his hands. “Oh, God.”

Starsky pulled on his forearm to get him to engage. “Look, she doesn’t know anything yet. I’d agreed to see her again and left it at that. And I don’t know what she tried to make happen with you guys, but you definitely have unfinished business.”

Hutch shook his head, “and it’s definitely business I don’t want to finish.”

Starsky snickered a little. “Hey, cheer up, will ya? I’ll volunteer, okay?”

Suddenly Hutch realized that would put his partner in harm’s way. “Now, wait a minute…”

Starsky sat taller, “Now don’t go white knight on me. Listen to what I’m saying. She thinks she has me fooled, you, I’m not sure why she dropped you a hint you’d eventually figure out. I can do this. I can tell her I want to talk, that I liked what happened but I wasn’t ready. She’ll let me in, don’t worry. I haven’t lost my touch.”

Hutch stood up and went to get more water. He kept his back to him as Starsky continued.

Starsky was in cop mode now. “We can find a way to distract her. You can call exactly thirty minutes after I get there. I know she gave you the number to the other place, but you can disguise your voice, tell her your scheduling carpet service. That’s one way to know its her. And I’ll see if I can find her I.D. anywhere, get her full name on something. She looked like she lived in this place, she had a desk with paperwork there.”

Hutch didn’t turn, he just looked out of the window. “And how are you going to get out of there?”

“We’ll have Minnie or somebody call from the station. I’ll tell her I had to give them the number, she’d understand how that is. I’ll make some excuse and get out of there.”

Hutch lowered his head.

“What’s the matter? We’ve done this stuff before. Undercover.”

Hutch shivered. He didn’t know why he felt like he’d been poisoned by a spider but everything about her now was just bringing back what he never wanted to think about.

Starsky stood, taking three steps to Hutch. He put his hand on his shoulder. “Hutch. I can’t read what’s upsetting you.”

Hutch kept his head down, muttering very low. “I don’t want her touching you.”

Starsky barely heard it. “What? I won’t touch her, don’t worry.”

Hutch lifted his head and turned. He was adamant now. “I don’t want HER touching YOU!”

Starsky backed up a step. What was this? He couldn’t understand the sensitivity. “What are you saying?”

Hutch flapped his arms enough to push Starsky back. “Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? We’re standing right here, right in the same place when you told me–you told me you loved her!”

Starsky didn’t mean to rustle up anything, but he patted his sleeves a little, “Babe…”

“No, don’t do that! Don’t you do that!” Hutch ripped himself from the spot and walked into the living room before he turned to face where he had been, with Starsky still there dumbfounded. “I couldn’t take it when I knew you loved her, and she had the nerve to make you think she loved you back. And then like you said, I waltzed right over there after you told me, to try to ‘clear up the problem,’ except I didn’t even know what the problem was, other than the fact that I didn’t want you two to happen!”

Starsky took two steps towards him, slowly, “Hutch, that was another time, another situation…”

Hutch put his hand in the air, to keep him farther in their distance. “Don’t. No. It’s the same people, Starsk. The same people. And we still don’t know what she’s doing, if this isn’t…isn’t some sort of to be continued, some sort of payback, or a crazy fantasy she’s living out. Why does she want to bed us, huh, partner? She went after both of us, just like she did before. But all I know is she practically broke us. Because she lured me into it, saying she loved me too, and I…I just couldn’t stand that you’d been there…and she had…she had what I want.” Hutch stopped, gulping his words, exhausted.

Starsky came over slowly, but stood a foot away. He wanted to be gentle about what he was going to say. “Hutch, I don’t mean to be indelicate but she wasn’t what you want for a woman, she was too…”

Hutch blew up. “Well, of course, she wasn’t what I want. I wanted you, not her!” The room suddenly felt thick. Hutch closed his eyes and dropped his head, shocked by his own realization, saying softly, “I wanted all of you.”

Starsky stood frozen. That’s what happened? All the way back then? He couldn’t comprehend what Hutch was feeling even still, and why this was all coming back.

Hutch looked up into Starsky’s eyes, sullen, sad, totally disarmed. And he looked into a blank face, a face he could tell was asking to explain. But he had nothing left, because he hadn’t processed it himself. He shook his head to the floor, and moving slowly, he walked away towards the bath he knew was for him, and unceremoniously shut the door without a sound.

Starsky took a shower in the second bathroom and went directly to the bedroom. Tossing it after this long day, he sat against his backboard and thought.

That night, helping Kira put up that plate, with her legs wrapped around his neck, feeling the pulse and warmth of her against him, then losing balance and landing on the floor cushions, they’d had an intimate talk he thought had meant something…

“You’re still mad about last night aren’t you?”

Starsky poked at the fire. “No, I got over the possessive stage years ago. I figure after eight years on the street you learn to take things as they come.”

“Oh, so you’re a realist now.”

Trying to be casual and forgiving, he waxed, “I figure you come into this life alone, you go out it alone, and in between you just try to experience everything as it comes, expect nothing, don’t take anything too seriously.”

Kira nodded, disbelieving.

“Seriously.”

Kira still looked at him sideways. “If I believed that for one moment, you think I’d be here with you right now, right now, really?”

He found her alluring, no matter what she said, caught in her presence, “Why are you here?”

“Because behind that silly smoke screen of yours, behind that tough talking hard boiled armor you put up for the rest of the world, I see something else.”

Starsky snorted, “Like what?”

“Like a heart that so filled with love it just lights up this entire room.”

Those next moments, lost in her kisses, he poured himself into her like a man possessed. He closed his eyes, for it felt sour now. What he had hoped, despite his proclamation he could take things as they come, that she’d say it, lost below his body, caught in his thrusts, that she loved him, beyond anything else, and she wanted his heart, her fill of his love, his light. The cold memory spat that she never did say it, never did lose control quite at that level, and by the end of that night, they lay spent but quiet, on opposite sides of the bed.

Starsky came back to present time when he heard Hutch punching a pillow in the living room. He sat wondering why he hadn’t come in here. They had an understanding, he thought.

He couldn’t let this happen, Hutch and him need to talk, if they were going to be one team, one…heart.

Hutch lay with his face to the couch back. His eyes were closed tight, but he was tense. It startled him when he heard the voice. “She never loved me, Hutch. She never told me she did.”

Hutch turned his body to listen. It was enough for Starsky to go on.

“I shouldn’t have made it look like we loved each other. I know I said she hadn’t said it in so many words. Truthfully all she did was allow me to bed her down.”

Hutch stayed on his back with his arm covering his eyes.

Starsky walked a few steps. “In other words, I sorta lied.”

Hutch wanted to give him a break, “Maybe you loved her. Maybe you really thought she loved you.”

Starsky came back towards Hutch. “No, what I’m saying is whatever happened after that, when you went there, was my fault. I know that now. I sent you right over there, in my own way, to set things straight. And all I did was set us up, with my jealousy and all, my going on about her being my girl, when she was never mine. She was yours.”

Hutch sat up straight, not sure if he was agitated or admonished. “She wasn’t mine! She was playing with us! You and me, me against you. Whoever she could get a piece out of. She didn’t care what happened to us, if our friendship went to hell!” Hutch whipped his head down, “I hate all this coming up! Damn it! And now you’re playing the martyr.”

Starsky raised his voice some, “What, so it’s better that you’re the martyr? I just want to talk it out, get it straight, so we both know everything. I didn’t talk about it much then, though you told me she said she loved me too, when you asked her, and then after that spiel about loving two people at the same time, she asked you how you feel, and you said–”

“Full of you.” Hutch sunk his head in his hands.

Starsky nodded. “Yeah.”

Hutch dropped his hands on his lap. “But I wasn’t. I was full of what you had given her. I wanted us back, and she had you, inside her. I just kept thinking, I wanted what was mine back. I…” Hutch got up, now he was pacing, to the door, He turned, “I wanted you so bad I almost tore that woman in half trying to get you out.” He looked at the ceiling and snorted. “And you know what she said after? That it was the best rough sex of her life, that she couldn’t replace me.”

Starsky accepted the realization she never said that about their sessions. But he wanted to be sure of something else. Starsky walked over slowly. “About me and you, at the time, you meant as friends.”

Hutch turned to him, but a foot away. “I meant as everything.” Hutch’s face looked pained. “But I didn’t know it then, we were on that case, things were crazy, then we had to make it look to her like we chose each other over her, teasing her, make her believe we were already an item…and then, the next terrible case.” Hutch lowered his head, fiddling with his hands, “it almost took you from me.”

Starsky came closer, and hugged him tight, for he wouldn’t let that conversation start. “Hey, I’m right here.”

Hutch folded into those arms. “Everything’s confusing right now.”

Starsky held him tight. “What can I do, babe? We gotta get you on solid ground. I can’t do this without you.”

Hutch pulled away to look into that face. “I’m afraid of what’s going on. I need to know nothing’s going to separate us, maybe if she hadn’t played us, maybe if you never got shot, we would have found that–”

“Maybe we could have been closer.” Starsky saw it now, what tortured Hutch.

Hutch held his breath. He could see in Starsky’s eyes now Starsky understood.

Starsky took Hutch by the hand. “Come with me. It’s late.” He pulled on Hutch to follow him from candle to candle, while he blew them out. In the pitch dark, Hutch was led to the bedroom, no questions asked.

~~*~~

Chapter 9

 

Hutch settled quickly in the bed. He had no choice because Starsky tucked a blanket around him as he crawled in.

Hutch watched Starsky puffing his pillow and lie sideways towards him.  Starsky had a little peppy smile on his face. Hutch tucked in his chin discriminatingly, “What are you doing?”

Starsky gave him a slightly amused look. “Looking at your lips.”

Hutch felt scrutinized. “Why?”

“Listen, I’m going to kiss you. Then you’re going to kiss me. Then we’re going to kiss each other.”

Hutch wasn’t ready for the turn abouts Starsky could easily create. “Another one of your experiments, Starsk?”  What made things more difficult was Hutch still harbored resentment Starsky hadn’t talked about that night days ago.

Starsky winced, “Hey, you want to blow this mood, or what?”

But Hutch didn’t feel much mood. Where was the romance? “Forget it, Starsk, we can’t bring back what might have been that we don’t even know would have been. Especially if it’s just to prove we can go undercover on another case.”

Starsky turned on his back. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

Hutch stayed where he was, looking at his body language closing up on him. “I guess what I need most of all is to know why you kissed me the last time you did.”

Starsky was honest. “I was on that stuff she gave me.”

Hutch snorted unhappily. “Well, thanks. That makes me feel better. And here I was I thought maybe… maybe you meant it.”

Starsky closed his eyes. He let out sincerely, “I did.”

Hutch felt his own blood rush out of his knees. Good thing he was lying down.

Starsky turned towards him and placed an extremely warm hand on his forearm. “And I’m glad I was on whatever it was. Because I got a chance to get close enough to you to try something I wanted to do time and time again, and never could approach.”

Hutch closed his eyes still afraid to ask the obvious. So he asked something else. “So why do you want to try again, the way you just approached it, like this was a test for a part you’re playing?’

Starsky turned his face to him, “because this time it’s the real me and I’m just as nervous as you are. So I thought if you allow me to kiss you, then I’ll allow you to kiss me the same, without response, and then, if we feel it’s passable, we’ll try together.” Starsky’s eyes were completely authentic.

It threw Hutch off again, how much his partner knew him, that if he needed an explanation, and time to talk, he provided it, that is, after he had acerbated his true self with the first way he said it. Starsky was always Starsky.

But that thought combined with the haunting memory of that night, drew out of Hutch a nervous nod, as he tried to express, “then I…I’d like to learn about this real me … Maybe….”

Hutch’s broken words, his quivering lips, this close, this vulnerable, Starsky grabbed that chin, pawed at that cheek and covered whatever words were trying to get out of that buttery, wet space that Starsky flooded with his hungry tongue, battling for what was found, what he knew they lost, somewhere caught in time and people, in designs others had on them.

Starsky felt the warmth and willingness, as he wiped the hair away that was falling from the side of Hutch’s face, and hunkered down even deeper, when he realized Hutch was opening up to him, and circling his tongue with a lifetime’s desire. Turning their heads and necks, they enjoyed an embrace caressing each other’s hair, until Hutch suddenly pulled them apart and nuzzled his brow against Starsky’s chest, shaking.

“I’m…I’m scared, Starsk, scared to do this, it’s all bottled up in me somewhere, and it’s about to burst out too fast…I want to tell you everything and then nothing, the past and the future, it’s all wrapped in together….”

“It’s okay, Hutch, let me hold you, you’re shaking.” Starsky covered Hutch’s head with a protective arm and he pulled him tighter to him with the other.

Hutch smiled into the worn T-shirt that smelled so good. “I think we skipped over the first two and went right to the third one.”

Starsky rubbed his chin on Hutch’s hair, “I think they were there somewhere, but if we missed it, we’ll try again in the morning, okay?”

Unable to want anything but the safety of this man, Hutch snuggled, burying his head, heading straight to sleep as his response.

~~*~~

Morning came quickly and despite their day off that Starsky had secured, they both woke early. Starsky’s trip to the bathroom while Hutch still dozed was all the time he had before Huggy was at the door. Huggy didn’t have time to do more than drop off the food that he’d promised, and rush back to his club to clean it from last night’s rowdy crowd. But it was enough to wake Hutch, who got dressed and joined Starsky in the kitchen.

Hutch pawed through the bags and chose some breakfast items. “We’re being spoiled I see.”

Starsky put the stew and sandwiches that were meant for later in the fridge. “More like checked up on. He should have been a case worker, he missed his calling.”

Hutch sat heavily as he realized they had a case alright. “So, what’s the plan, Starsk? Think we should tell Dobey about our real suspicions?”

“We should, but I want more first. You know what he’s going to say. Even if we do suspect we’re being targeted or stalked, they aren’t going to be able to arrest someone that hasn’t done anything yet. So we have to catch her red-handed.”

“Well, first we have to have proof it’s her.”

Starsky got up to get a root beer for himself, and orange juice for Hutch. “Yes, and that’s where we start our plan. Then once we make a positive I.D., we have to figure out what or who of us she wants.”

Hutch put his food down, and leaned back. “I think she wants me.”

Starsky laughed heartily, “Well, aren’t we sure of ourselves.”

Hutch put his hand on his partner’s arm, “Starsky, remember when Dobey pulled us in that time, after the case we worked with Kira, about two weeks later? Remember his asking round about if which one had ‘fraternized with her’ during the case?”

“Yeah, and we got a kick out of running him in circles trying to figure out that it was both of us.”

Hutch added, “Yes, and then he told us we’d better not make our dating the same woman personal again.”

Starsky got up to pick up the plates. “Yeah, I remember.”

Hutch was gratified to see Starsky was matter-of-fact about those days now. He walked himself over to the couch, keeping his voice loud enough for Starsky to overhear. “About a week later, I had to go see Dr. Weston.”

Starsky walked in wiping his hands on a cloth. “One of the shrinks?”

“Yeah, one that had a specialty in addictions.”

Starsky sat on the couch puzzled. “Did Dobey send you for… what, did he think you were on something?”

“No, not for me. He told me I had to go see her just to talk. And he told me I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you. And since not much happened, I kept it that way. You and I were still on slightly shaky ground.”

Starsky was willing to accept that. “Okay. So what was it about?”

She asked me if I had had a relationship with Kira. I said yes. She asked how long it was before we… got together. Then she wanted me to speak freely about what kind of sexual event we had. I felt like I was being coaxed to tell her the truth, and for some reason, it was my way to get the whole thing off my mind, after how it upset our partnership. So I told her everything, in confidence of course.”

Starsky wondered, “about us fighting over her?”

Hutch nodded, “only some of that. I told her she’s been with you first, and that it caused some friction between us. But I did tell her about how Kira and I had very rough sex, and how much Kira egged it on.”

Starsky didn’t understand, “You mean…that day?”

“Yes, that one.” He took a needed breath. “Starsk, once we did it once, she kept starting to bring you up, telling me how you touch her and some of what you say, and I, I wanted her to stop talking about it, but she used her hands to show me what you did, and whispered asking if that made me hot, or jealous. The more edgy I got, the more she got into it, she wanted me to pretend to… to make love like you were there, watching us, or with us, in the bed with us. She was making me crazy, Starsk…I couldn’t hold back… it’s like she was trying to prove that I wanted you…right there…. And somehow I wanted to prove it… she made me want so bad…” Hutch dropped his head in his hands. “She’s all over the place inside my head again, Jesus, what kind of game is going on that we just keep coming back to this?”

Starsky came close enough to touch knees. “Hey, it’s okay.” Starsky moved one of those hands and moved his chin to look at him, “come over here and give me that kiss you owe me. I won’t move.”

Hutch was taken aback. “What? How can you bring that up now?” Damn, Starsky was a tease.

Starsky touched his lip with his finger. “Because I want you in the here and now with me. You were trying to tell me something about what you think having told this shrink all this back then has to do with Kira being after you, right?”

Hutch woke up to the minute. He gave Starsky a peck on the cheek. “You’re right.”

Starsky touched his cheek muttering, “‘cept I’d hoped it would be to the right of that.”

Hutch gave him a quick smirk. “What I was going to say is… I think Dr. Weston was trying to figure out if Kira had a sexual addiction. Because she explained to me that some people have that. She explained what it is, and that she was clearing up if I had any issues with it. I left there somehow knowing that wasn’t about me.”

Starsky took in the information. “Humph. I just heard around the station she had left Central for greener pastures. I thought she went to law school or something.”

“I remember that being said. But I never cared too much to figure out where she had ended up. Until now.”

Starsky looked at Hutch the same time Hutch looked at him. “You think she was forced out? Because she had a pattern of sleeping with people she worked with?”

“If it was a problem, yeah. They may have wanted her to follow a recovery plan or something like that.”

Starsky contemplated the whole line of thinking. “Or she could have been fired. They close records like that. We can’t find that out.”

Hutch sighed. “I think her behavior, changing her identity, her face, and then coming back to see us is some kind of pathological sorta thing, don’t you? She’s got to be angry about something.”

“Or just plain sick.” Starsky pulled on Hutch’s shoulder, “Come on, I want to get some paper and plan this out.” He pulled Hutch towards the kitchen table.

Hutch sat down. “So you have a few ideas.”

“You bet. Let’s run them through. Then you add the finishing touches. I think we can use tonight to our advantage if we start now.”

~~*~~

Starsky put the phone back on the hook. He looked up to Hutch standing two feet away by the fridge. “It’s on. She said I could go over to see her at 7:30 tonight.”

Hutch blew air out of his mouth audibly. “So she bought that you were willing to try again.”

Starsky smirked. “She thinks she got me all horny for her.”

Hutch turned away quickly, then froze, wishing he hadn’t done that.

Starsky was no fool. He walked over and touched his back, rubbing it with one hand. “I’m doing this like a job, you know that.”

Hutch raised his head to the ceiling, closing his eyes. He lowered it saying, “I know. I just can’t wait to get this over with. Because what I really want to do is play basketball.”

Starsky made the half circle to face him. “We haven’t played that for awhile.”

Hutch smiled slightly as he looked into that child-like face. Starsky loved to play anything. “That’s what I’m saying. I’d like to play that, and some pool, and even watch you wash and wax that car.”

Starsky burst out laughing. “Okay, I’ll go get the thermometer. You’re coming down with something.”

Hutch grabbed Starsky’s arm, gripping it quite strongly. “I want you. As my friend. Doing guy things again. And then, I want to come back here, all worn out, sweaty, and fight over who gets the shower first. And then…” Hutch pulled Starsky close and plastered his lips with a fiery mouth. When he let go, he put his mouth on his earlobe, still wet. “then I want try my hand at sharing other guy things.”

Hutch pulled away and grabbed him by the shoulders, “but let’s get this over with first. Go make yourself pretty for your date.”

Starsky pointed to Hutch’s chest as he walked away, “and you call Minnie to get her to call forty minutes after I get there. That’s all the time I’ll need.”

~~*~~

Chapter 10

 

Kimberly Rae picked up the clothing from the bureau and placed it across the bed. Adjusting it accordingly, she was doing a fine job of looking like she was “in the process of moving for a few weeks,” and doing it in a “bit of a rush.”

Dave Starsky had called earlier in the day, and she had plenty of time to set up what she wanted him to know. She was somewhat curious why he hadn’t figured her out by now, but she bet her chances that he hadn’t. But knowing what she knew about Hutch recently from their brief sexual encounter, she was sure they had time to put their minds together by now and come up with something.

Of course, she was still convinced she had the upper hand. She didn’t mean to slip up with Hutch, telling him she’ll “show him” she “remembers,” but she had to assume he may have interpreted it meant something. It went to show how bad she still had it for him loosing her composure like that. But what about him? He didn’t exactly not come hard, full in her mouth. That’s if he could even think after she quickly went down on him. She smirked to herself doubting he could, as she bitterly still desired him, despite his outburst of his partner’s name that ruined everything.

Since then, in the time she had between seeing either of them, she had enjoyed the stimulation of disguising herself and boldly overtaking their local turf. She had skateboarded by Venice one afternoon, and kept a vigil on Starsky’s house with a taxi ride twice. They must have been working extra hours, because it appeared they were nowhere, but that didn’t worry her. She knew one of them would eventually call back.

As she placed more boxes on the sofa, she made sure there wasn’t a place to find a seat in the room. In a few minutes, the dark, sexy spitfire of the team would show up and light up her libido from the minute he stood in the open door, something she actually did like about him. She knew he’d return to right what had happened. He always had a penchant for justice and good that way, always a sweetheart. She hated that about him as much as she admired it, for he was a good catch as a steady, if you wanted plenty of good-time, fun loving and powerful, frequent sex. The man had an endless tank of endurance. But it was that sappy need for holding hands and basking in eyelash-batting that made her squirm. She wanted raunchiness and debauchery that only power and control could bring, and she didn’t want to share that with a warm-hearted type. Besides, he always called her “Honey.”

Further, if he was getting any from his proposed lover, she knew that they would have had to have progressed to where she couldn’t win any favors. She tried for many a day to get their copulating out of her mind, those two men hot and at it, milking each other’s talents for all they were worth. With Hutch’s desires, and Starsky’s capabilities, if they really opened up to each other, they were too sophisticated by now to even think about. There was no room for her in that arrangement, one she had already rejected long ago.

She also did not disregard one extremely important fact, they were very, very good cops. Her career never was what she wanted it to be, and she was often passed up because of her small frame and too-good looks. Who had ever wanted to go undercover as a vice decoy every week? She resented not being allowed to use her cleverness because her womanly wiles were needed instead. It was partly the fault of these two, as male cops, that she never got where she wanted to go. It was simply because they were part of the established brotherhood to start, if not for their additional sins against her personally. But now, she had worked out her strengths and weaknesses, and knew she had found a way to get past their combined savvy. The key was to only handle one at a time.

She heard the steps on the stairs and could not mistake Starsky’s optimistic whistle. She mussed up her hair on one side to look disheveled, and picked up the two boxes and balanced them erratically, right on cue.

Starsky was caught off guard immediately, with the door wide open and the room all a mess. “Whoa! Don’t drop that, Honey, I got it!”

She giggled a little, warming up into her act and let them drop in his arms, already with one point on her side, as his chauvinistic chivalry kicked right in. “Oh, thank you, just turn around, they’re going down the hall!” She picked up a lighter box and egged him forward.

Starsky kept turning sideways wondering where he was heading. “Which, what, where’s all this going?”

“Right there, that third door, it’s wide open. Just plop it anywhere. Don’t worry, the cats are in the bedroom.”

“Cats? You have cats?” Starsky looked around at the very similar room with a lot of different items but generally comparable furniture.

Charlie laughed. “Not my cats. I’m kitty-sitting for two weeks!” she made a half circle around the room, “I figured why not stay over more of the time, my friend said she’d appreciate it so they don’t tear up her upholstery.”

Starsky had already lost the whole reason he was present. “Oh…well I didn’t mean to disturb you today.” He started formulating how he would find what he needed now, wondering if her desk was already packed at the other end.

“Oh, I hope it’s okay, it won’t take me long and then we can sit and have some Sangria I made for us.” She waltzed to the counter and opened up the fridge.

Starsky wasn’t going to fall for that. “Uh, no, that’s okay, fruits have been giving me a sour stomach lately.”

Charlie gave him a squinted look, “You mean you don’t want a drink of some kind?”

“I’ll take a beer if you got it.” He’d watch her carefully when she served it, grabbing it if it was a can quickly so he could open it himself.

“I have some at the other place. Mind moving a few more?”

“No, not at all,” Starsky added.

At the original apartment, Starsky was given direction and within twenty minutes they had brought over quite a pile. “Are you completely moving out of your place?” He was still looking for names on boxes or paperwork with his roving eyes.

Charlie shrugged. “Well, there’s no sense in staying in this one and paying rent for weeks. It’s rent to let and they’re all furnished anyway. I can just let another later. Trying to save money, you know.”

Starsky didn’t totally believe that. Still, he’d have to go along. Noting the time, the call Hutch and he had planned to come from the station was due in less than ten minutes.

But Charlie had a plan for him, too. “Can you bring this to the bathroom over there? It’s toiletries. Be careful they don’t spill, some are sticky.”

Starsky went along. It would only take him a minute. As he brought the box in and put it on the small counter, suddenly he had an idea. There might be prescriptions in this room, with her name on it.

As Charlie went about collecting more to place in a box at her apartment, she was right by the kitchen phone when it rang. She grabbed the headset in half a ring. “Hello?”

Minnie was right on time. “This is the Metro Police Department, ma’am, we’re looking for a Detective Starsky, is he available?”

“No, he stepped out. I can have him call in a few minutes from now.” She said her goodbye briskly and hung up.

Still in the other apartment, quickly Starsky rustled through the box. The lotion was sticky and he had to get a tissue to wipe it off his hands. Then he tried the cabinet. Except for a vial prescribed to a “Purrette” of ear lice medicine, he found nothing there. His last resort was a small make up bag. As he rummaged through it, he found something. A circular case of birth control pills with the name and prescription number on the inside lid. It read, “Kimberly Rae Dodd.” This confirmed it. It was Kira.

Charlie had to set her plan in action soon. He was up to something, having created a decoy exit plan. She wasted no time heading to the other apartment. She had to corner him there.

As he heard her coming, he set the make up bag back where it had been, and came out of the bathroom. “Was that a phone?” he asked, even though he hadn’t heard one.

“No, not here. Hey, can you get that box open, and take out that blender? It goes in the kitchen.”

“Sure,” Starsky said, turning his back on her.

That’s all the time she needed, as she lunged forward like a tiger and stuck a needle in the back of his neck.

~~*~~

Hutch picked up the phone as soon as he heard it. Having been asked to stay at Starsky’s, he was waiting for a patch from the Torino through the station. Instead, it was Minnie.

“I made the call as you guys asked, but he hasn’t called back. The woman said she’d get him and have him call.”

Hutch thought out the possibilities, not particularly happy. “Hmm. Okay. Maybe he’s delayed. I’m sure he’s attempting to step towards the exit. Let’s give him another ten minutes? Then can you try again?”

“Sure, Hutch. And I’ll call you right back and let you know.”

“I appreciate it, Minnie. We owe you.”

Hutch closed the line. Starsky, where are you? Hutch’s hands began to sweat thinking out plan B. They didn’t have a plan B. Starsky was a big boy, he could take her easily, and he could get himself out of there as smooth as silk, with what he wanted. Hutch saw him play the best shark and have him come back with the whole set of teeth on a cushion, gift wrapped. He had every confidence in him.

So maybe he was schmoozing out a finish, maybe even getting in a grudge…well, a grudge kiss better be all. Of course it was all. I trust you, partner. I trust you, babe. Hutch even smiled at the thought, because that was going to be the last time Starsky would want to get close to a female after Hutch was done with him. He had better remember what it tastes like, because that’s his last dish of that morsel. He hoped she tasted like day old tuna on wrinkled lips.

But then Hutch remembered about tuna. They had teeth too, once. Suddenly he had a bad taste in his own mouth. Something’s wrong.

~~*~~

Chapter 11

 

A little scratching at the door came directly after he heard a mew. Since when did a cat he didn’t know try to get into his apartment? He fed a stray from time to time but he didn’t realize he was making a name for himself in the neighborhood. He tried to turn but sleeping was too comfortable, though his head felt like there was a train running through it. The cat would have to wait, he needed more sleep.

Kira walked in cautiously, looking around, and finding Starsky humming to himself fussing over a plant. She wandered to the kitchen to join him, throwing the newspaper she had found on his porch straight into the sink.

Kira smiled when he turned to her. “Morning.”

Starsky seemed glad to see her, but a little bit nervous. “Want some coffee?”

“Oh, yeah, umm…”

Starsky pointed to the shelf, “grab a cup.” As Kira wiped the dust off the cup’s rim, Starsky poured, saying,”It’s kinda strong.”

Kira took a sip. Strong was an understatement. She spit it out as Starsky turned his back. “It’s like the inside of a tennis shoe,” she attempted to joke.

Starsky grabbed the paper and went to sit on the stool. “Well, it’ll wake you up…”

“…if it doesn’t kill you first.” Kira rubbed her hands as she leaned against the counter. “Well, look I just thought we could work out whatever kind of a problem…”

Starsky fuddled with the newspaper, “Oh…” He folded his arms, “Well, there’s no problem, not anymore…”

Kira added quickly, “well there was yesterday.”

Starsky admitted it. “Well, I was jealous.”

“You were jealous.” Kira agreed with a little laugh, “you’re not jealous anymore.”

Starsky lowered his eyes and back. “No.”

Kira wondered. “How come?”

Starsky was sincere. “I had to deal with how Hutch and I feel about each other.”

Curious. “Oh…how’s that?”

Starsky said it clear. “I love him.”

Kira abruptly uttered, “You what?”

“I love him”  Starsky kept his arms crossed.

Suddenly, Kira turned her face. Biting her lip, she turned back, “He loves you, huh?”

Starsky said it again. “Yeah.”

“He told you that?”

“Well, not in so many words, but…” Starsky reached to touch her sleeve, “you know what I mean…”

Kira suddenly felt too affected to stay. “Well, look, I got some work to catch up on, I’ll talk to you later.” She practically bolted out of the apartment, barely hearing when Starsky added, “thanks for dropping by.”

Starsky stayed sitting for a few minutes. His mind wasn’t on Kira anymore, but on his love for Hutch. As soon as he could, he’d give him a call and thank him again for last night. Starsky felt safer now, knowing they’d had that talk, that made it clear there was something to build on for the future. He wiped at his hair, and thought about the kisses Hutch gave, the lips that were so willing that tugged at his heart, making his mouth as dry as if  a scarf  had sucked all the moisture out, a silk scarf that…his teeth couldn’t come together because the scarf…he bit into…where am I? What is this place?

Starsky moved his head a little trying to get his eyes to open. Why did his head hurt so bad? As he attempted to writhe and contort, it became obvious he was in some sort of trouble. He hands were caught on something, something metal, and one leg was, wait, he was tied somehow. Now his eyes opened painfully out of pure fear. He looked up to a stained ceiling and then to his hands above him, he was caught, on some sort of lattice wall frame, tied to the two by four that held it, both hands in what appeared to be his own handcuffs. As he tried to twist in any direction he could go, he realized his feet were bound together by a rope, and his mouth had a half bitten silk scarf tied across it.

This was crazy. How had he gotten here, what was this place? He couldn’t imagine the last thing he did, was he at someone’s house? Then he heard that sound again. A scratch and a mew. That cat. Suddenly he almost took his own back out as his spine stiffened and pulled on his shoulder blades. Kira. Kira did something to his neck, stuck, yes, jabbed him with a needle. All he knew is the floor came to greet him after that.

He looked up at how his arms were hanging, which only woke the rest of his body up quickly, making everything hurt. He had to assess the damage. Both hands tied with handcuffs. And his legs together bound by a rope. He tried to pull his feet apart, there was some give. Maybe if he used his thigh muscles, he could pull and push apart a few inches at a time and loosen the poorly tied knot.

But as he leaned his head back for a minute, something else finally registered. There was an uncomfortable pull in his groin, as if he was pinched. He looked down. His pants were loose, the loop over the steel button unhooked. The zipper was down, and his briefs were cut at the waistline, like they had been hacked by scissors. There was light in the room, so he could see it plain. His penis was exposed.

This brought on an innate panic. As he moved attempting to get his ankles free, the cats continued with their own attempt to get free. So Kira hadn’t made that up, but Starsky couldn’t think past getting himself out of this physically first. He looked around a few seconds and assessed he was probably alone, there was no other sound but for the animals.

He took a rest for a moment. He had to think this out more strategically. He looked up at the wall that he was tied to. It was a simple room divider in this cheap place. He used both arms to torque it. The lattice work moved easily. As he looked up to the false ceiling, he realized the two by four the small chain and cuffs were wrapped around was only pressed on to the ceiling, not through it. The only place it was secured was on the floor with nails and two small brackets. He kept lurching his arms, using his back muscles and soon it was apparent that the false wall could be ripped down, if he worked it long enough.

He took another rest. He wanted to think as much as he wanted to get free. Why did she knock him out? And for how long? He looked for a clock. On the wall there was one. 12:30. Twelve thirty what? He looked around. Outside the window it was dark. Oh God, no. 12:30PM. He had been on a mission, on a case. He spotted the blender. His head cleared immediately. He was helping Kira move, and a call from the station was supposed to come in for him ten minutes after eight. But the call never came. He started rattling the lattice furiously, wanting, trying to fight his way out. He made a horrible groan out of frustration, using whatever spit he had left to try to yell for help. He knocked his own head against this stupid, junky wall.

Oh, God, Hutch. What has she done?

~~*~~

Hutch put the phone down. It was his third and final call to Minnie, he’d look like a fool asking again. He sat stiffly on high alert with no reasoning to go with it.

It was almost 9:00PM. He could go over there, but then he wouldn’t be here to get Starsky’s call. Struggling to consider the options again one more time, he paced. The phone ringing caught him off guard half way across the room.

He jumped and grabbed it quick. “Starsky?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the voice returned.

Hutch could barely remember what to call her. “Meredith?”

“You know who it is. We can cut to the chase now, big boy.”

Hutch turned to ice. “Kira, where’s my partner?”

“Aren’t we all partners? In bed and out? Or have you forgotten how good it gets when we turn out our fantasies between each other’s sheets and legs?”

Hutch was furious, but he suspected that’s what she wanted him to be. “I want an answer. Tell me where Starsky is.”

Kira would enjoy torturing him. She had all the power now. “Oh, he’s tied up right now. He can’t talk to you.”

Hutch could feel his blood pressure shoot to the moon. “You get him on this phone now.”

Kira laughed. “You’ll have to come to us. But I’m warning you. If I see anyone else, or you make any calls, tell anyone, you’ll be sorry. We’ve got business you don’t want to spread around, all of us.”

Hutch didn’t have a choice. “I don’t know where you are. I don’t even know who the hell you’re trying to be right now.”

“You know how to get to Meredith’s. Come alone. I’ll be watching out the windows, Hutch. No tricks. Oh, and bring a night bag. We’ll have a pajama party.”

Hutch was furious. “What makes you think I won’t call the cops?”

Kira breathed into the phone. “Because you won’t find Starsky if you do. Just come to the main door. Use the buzzer and I’ll let you in. Then I’ll come get you.”

Hutch took one more shot. “He’d better be okay.”

If he wanted to play, she’d play. “He’s pretty good. I already had him, he’s all unzipped. He’s fine.  But two’s better. Just waiting for you.”

Hutch hissed. “Don’t move. I’m leaving.” He hung up.

Flustered, he grabbed for his shoulder holster, that dropped to the floor. He rushed to put it on, as he considered where he could find a writing instrument. Pencil, right on the end table. He ripped a reply card out of the TV Guide and wrote profusely, “9PM Meredith’s.”

He grabbed the door handle and bolted. Starsky, hang on.

~~*~~

Kira watched at the far end of the condominium’s hallway where there was an excellent view of the private drive to the building. She looked closely as Hutch walked towards the front of the building. His car would have to be parked on the street someplace, probably in one of the alleys at this time of night. All the street parking was taken by now, by tenants of the lesser housing up and down the avenue. Vehicles without a permit were never allowed past the closed security gate at this time of night.

His blond locks shone in the floodlights as he swiftly headed to the front. Kira heard the buzzer in the corner suite, having left the door open. He pressed it twice, impatient.

Standing at the panel, Hutch still surveyed the parking lot looking for the Torino. Maybe Starsky had been forced to park it out back. He heard Kira, “Yes?”

“It’s me. Hutch.”

“‘Kay. Come on up.”

Hutch grabbed the handle and rushed in. He headed to Suite 219.

But when he arrived, Kira was at the other end of the hall. She watched him knock before she called out. “It’s this one.”

Hutch walked over to her fast. “What are you doing?,” he said coldly.

She pushed the door open and signaled him with her hand to enter as she stayed in the hall. He walked by her immediately, calling, “Starsky?”

It was the last word he’d say for awhile once the needle hit his shoulder blade.

~~*~~

Stepping out of the shower, Kira took the fancy towel with the gold braid to wipe her back, breasts and arms, as she waltzed into the master bedroom. He looked pretty under the dimmed light, that multi-colored fair hair was heavenly.

She’d worked hard to drag him on to the bed and lay him out like that. His dead weight was double hers. Luckily, she’d learned from those police academy courses ways it could be done in an emergency, it just took a little time and sweat.

Dressing in her most revealing teddy, she smiled at herself in the vanity mirror. It was nice having her old style back, the poofy curly blond bob, he commented once how lovely it was. For tonight he’d never notice, he’d be out for at least five to six hours, but this was her time to enjoy the fantasy that he would.

Shutting the last lamp as she took her place beside him, she made sure the cuffs were secure against the brass headboard. She could snuggle up under his arm and pretend he had his around her. She had shed his coat and pants, shoes, socks and shirts, but his boxers she liked right where they were. She could unwrap him the rest when he wakes up.

She settled beside his silky skin, envying his complexion. He seemed to do better than her when it came to staying youthful, her skin was always dry. She stroked the strong arms, the slender waist and took no time lifting the elastic, moving her hand across his beautiful, massive shaft. She could hardly contain his potential even when he was flaccid, but she would enjoy the power of “manhandling” him in his sleep. Maybe these two had found a way to stay satisfied with each other since they manipulated her to believe they were never together, but she almost knew now by just touching him like this that it had all been a game. The fagots that they were wouldn’t bother her now, because she’d get the last laugh. She’d made sure she’d be the last, as soon as she sucked the last out of Hutch, once he comes to.

~~*~~

Chapter 12

 

The room was quiet. The sound of his own breathing was barely audible, Hutch hadn’t budged or twitched, but his mind was a racing misery…

Kira’s exit from Starsky’s couldn’t come fast enough. Driving as quick as she can get away with, she just had to get there. She had to know.

“Uh, one second…” Hutch answered the door. “Be with you in a minute.”

Kira waltzed in, whispering hi.

Hutch wondered, “Why the long face so early in the morning?”

Kira was nervous, “I…I gotta ask you a question.” How was she going to ask this?

“Okay,” Hutch encouraged, giving a little peck on the cheek.

Kira was confused. “I just don’t figure it. I don’t figure you.”

“What?”

“Hutch, do you love Starsky?”

Hutch had no choice. Maybe he could trust her. But either way, he couldn’t hide it either. “Yes.”

Kira couldn’t believe it, “Well, I guess for a change he was right.” She gave him a nasty stare. “I’ll see you around.”

“I love you too, Kira.”

She stopped cold, “What?”

What indeed. What was he doing? Trying to cover, Hutch guessed thinking to himself. It wasn’t a good idea declaring his love for Starsky, almost saying they were…even though he wanted to be…exclusive. But that would mean they had to admit they were…gay. That’s how Kira would take it. So like a nervous fool, he repeated, “I love you, too.”

Kira was angry. “What are you doing? What kind of game are you playing?”

Hutch panicked. “It’s no game. I love you both.”

“Well, how is that possible? We’re…we’re really different if you haven’t noticed!”

“Because you’re two entirely different human beings, I love you both of you in a different way. Is that so terrible?”

Kira didn’t get it, “You know, I’m trying to compute this right now but I just can’t add it up…”

Hutch embellished, “Kira, have you ever made love to more than one person in one week? Really, the truth…have you?”

Kira bent her head, “Yes, on occasion to more than one man in one–“

“And you really cared, you really liked them–“

“What?”

Hutch continued, “I mean really cared for them–“

Kira was flustered, raising her voice,” I don’t make love to a man unless I really like them, okay?” What was this? “I feel like I’m being tested for some new sex survey or something– will you tell me what’s going on because I’m having a hard time handling it.”

Hutch had to stick his point, “Well, like you, I love two people at the same time.”

Kira stammered, “Now I’m not quite that liberated, you know what? When I get down to the nitty gritty, down to what love is, I’m really old fashioned about that, I’m a one woman, one man kind of girl.”

“So you want me to choose between you and Starsky, is that it?”

Kira thought quickly. “Yes…yes.”

Hutch went in for the kill. “Oh, I see. And if I become your one man does that mean that it’s a commitment until death-do-us-part, is that it?”

Kira wasn’t comfortable at all. “I’m not talking about that, I’m, I’m…that’s not what I have in mind.”

Hutch answered, “Exactly. Me neither. You see, dear Kira, you want your cake but you’re afraid to eat it.”

Kira stopped her next thought mid breath. “Well I gotta give you this much, you really know how to confuse a girl.”

Hutch walked over to her. “Look, Kira, when I make that one to one commitment, I will be the most loyal being on this planet, but that doesn’t mean we can’t share something until then…” Hutch touched her hands, gathering them together. “Okay?”

Kira was still confused. But he had been with— “Wait a second. We got some things to work out.”

Hutch was ready for her. “Look, life’s a lot simpler than you’d like to admit to…”

Kira worried, “But what about Starsky, we got him to consider.”

“We already have.” Hutch touched her chin. “How do you feel?”

Kira considered her options. “Full of you.”

She went in for a kiss, and Hutch took it, tender, then tempting. He was going to have his cake and eat it, too. Why not? What Starsky didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. After all, he’d understand. A score’s a score. What’s a little hanky panky between friends? He’d slept with Starsky, but he never said he loved him, not yet anyway…

Hutch felt her pull his body across the bed. He had to admit she was really manhandling him, as funny as that sounded, dragging him, like he was dead weight. The sheets felt rough, like his body had been run across a rug, and then his pants pulled off, stiffly. Everything seemed against what he wanted, he had Starsky to consider, what was he doing, throwing it all away on this woman? Maybe he did care more for Starsky. Why wasn’t he here, where was Starsky, he was supposed to make that call to him, he’d called Minnie, he was so certain Starsky loved him, Starsky, Starsky I feel heavy, I can’t move, I can’t open my eyes, Starsky, help me…where are you, I need you, I–

His voice punched out of him, “Starsky!”

Kira raised her head. Damn it, is that all this man can say in bed, that infernal name? “Guess again, Hutch. Seems you’re good at crying out, but you ain’t so good at giving it.”

Hutch’s eyes painfully opened wide. A ceiling, and a sharp ache in his shoulders hit his senses. He looked above his head quickly. He was caught, tied, handcuffed to the bed board. He pulled frantically, a panicked reaction, kept pulling, pulling, he had to–

Kira slapped him as hard as she could on the face. “Stop it! Just stop it!”

The slap did stop him, shocking him to look at her. He gave her the dirtiest look he could manage. “Let me go,” he sneered.

Kira sat up on her knees. “Oh, no. That won’t work. Anymore than calling for that boy toy partner fuck of yours.”

Hutch still wasn’t centered. What the hell was she talking about? “Starsky’s not–”

“The hell he isn’t. You think I couldn’t figure it out, could you? You thought you’d take Detective Kira for a ride, another hole to put it in, another quickie cover. I should have seen it, the way you two fought over me, it was all a big game.”

Hutch tried to figure what she was saying. Staring at her, he couldn’t even see the same person. She’s changed her look, and her voice pattern so much, however she had achieved it, it was like listening to a script coming out of a different actress. It wasn’t sinking in.

But he had to get some facts, some station as to where he was, and what she wanted. “What’s this about, Kira? What do you want?”

Kira laughed heartily. “Okay, so now you care. You bastard. How about wanting this? She pinched his nipple, twisting it. He recoiled into the mattress. It occurred to him suddenly she had his legs tied also, one to each bedpost at the bottom of the bed, but with rope that had some give, maybe three-four inches.

“What’s the matter, not romantic enough? What does Starsky do, fondle, lick? Like a girl? Don’t tell me you don’t ask for it rough. I know all about you. You told me yourself what the wife did that you liked.” She grabbed for his testicles and pulled them just enough to make him jump. “Gets the ol’ juices flowing, doesn’t it?” She laughed again.

Hutch didn’t know what to do. His mind raced. He had to catch his panic, and siphon it, or she’d have too much control. He had to get this back in the past, where somehow the key to all this was. “I…I don’t understand what you think I did, back then, when we were together.”

She got off the bed, “Ha! Together! You were never mine and I was never yours and you know that! Your muscular partner, now he wanted all that. Remember? Cuddles and coos all over me. You and me, we were looking for a little fun, some experimentation, comparing notes, getting hot and getting in on.”

Hutch watched her circle the bed, almost pacing, giving him some kind of wanton look that would never work, but he dared not entice either her wrath or her want. Stay neutral. “Kira, that was a long time ago.”

Kira gave her head a bob as she looked into the mirror, like she wasn’t listening. “Like my doo, Hutch? You always said you liked it.”

Hutch didn’t know which way to answer. Better not answer. But he didn’t take his eyes off her.

Kira turned and she fluffed her teddy, and pulled the skinny straps down to her biceps. “You always liked doing it with clothes on, too, that’s why I kept your pretty boxers on.” She looked down at his endowed loins. She bit her lip and licked it. “Let’s see if I drop my panties, and you drop yours….” She started to lean her knee on the bed, reaching for the waistband.

Hutch’s reaction was automatic. “Kira. Don’t.”

But she did. She exposed him, staring at him like meat. “Oh, say it again, Hutch, while I mount you. I know you like to play the victim when you’re on the bottom.”

Hutch stiffened all over. And that was the problem. All over.

She straddled him easily. “Ooh, see? Works every time.” Spreading her underwear to one leg’s side, she rubbed herself directly upon him. “Mmm, that’s the right kind, don’t you think? Like it was then?”

Hutch tried using his arms to pull himself up. But scrunching himself closer to the headboard only made it worse. Now he was more trapped. “Get off me.”

Kira began to undulate with longer strokes. She reached for the oil she had on the vanity, quickly oozing it plentifully between them.

Hutch tried to twist and push himself to one side. This unbalanced her a little from the top of him, but it only made everything more slippery, as his body was betraying his desire. He didn’t want this desire, it was making him feel sick.

“That’s it, writhe around. It’ll make it feel so much better.”

Hutch bit the inside of his lip. Damn it. Everything he did he just helped her. He had to use something else. His thoughts, his words. Something.

Kira was hardly started in her need. She was just teasing him at this point. “Like it, Hutch? Being my lover again?”

Hutch had to start playing smart. Either give in or make her mad. But he didn’t want to give in. And he didn’t care if she got mad, at least not right away.

“I was never your lover. You said it yourself. I was just using you.”

Kira rubbed oil on his nipples, smiling. “Yeah, well, I got you where I want you now, and I’m going to show you how much better it can be, using you or me or not.”

Hutch bounced up, enough to cause her some pain. He had to fight back with his mouth. “You got nothing. I’ve been with so much better you can’t compete.”

She pinched his nipples enough to hurt him. But Hutch wanted that. The pain would help stop the blood flow somewhere else. “Well I’ve been told I’m the best. I hear it all the time. I’m up to twenty positions that can make a man crazy.”

Hutch was gaining on his mind body connection now. “You can’t best my lover, schweetheart.”

Kira stopped moving, her eyes lit with a second’s twitch. Hutch caught the fissure. Starsky, that was her trigger. And she knew that’s who he’d meant.

He went in for another blow. “Your dirty little hands wherever you put them will never get you what you want. You can’t have what I’ve committed to someone else, no matter how you try to confuse it.”

Kira was not happy. “Oh yeah? Does he do this to you, huh?” She reached down to grab his testicles, slightly twisting. “Is that what you like?”

He bit his own lip. Damn it, damn it. But that took care of it. She couldn’t take him now.

She felt the difference. She pulled up from over him. Then she enclosed her fist around his penis and really pulled on him.

It sent Hutch curling his spine up, his back felt like he was caught by a viper. But he held on, gritting his teeth in his mouth.

She let go of him, as he fell back hard, panting. This wasn’t going to get her anywhere now. She looked down at his manhood and sneered. “I can’t even tell if that’s what you want or not. Guess you’re not used to being the whore.” She grabbed his chin and pulled it hard to her side of the bed she stood by. “That’s all you are now, man whore, a bottom fag boy.” She turned around, huffing. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you, not even tonight.”

Hutch thought he’d won a small victory. He adjusted himself lower on the bed.

But when she turned, it was as if she had changed time zones. “I should have known not to play with you two pussies. I thought it’d be fun, but you had it out for me, didn’t you? Take down the girl cop. She’s easy, wants it anyway. Keep your reputations as swinging singles, while you played house and I.A. didn’t suspect a thing. Just use ol’ Kira, she’s Vice’s best decoy. The blond bombshell everybody wants.”

Hutch had to wind her down. He had to talk quickly. “That’s not true. Starsky cared about you, he said he loved you. And I know him. I know he meant it.”

She grabbed her own hair and pulled on it from both sides. She let out a blood curdling scream. “I don’t want to hear that name again! You both—ARRRGH–you both keep bringing each other up! This is how you did it! This is how you made me lose my job…my career, you two ratted me out!”

Hutch’s spine felt jolted. “What? What are you talking about?”

Kira dropped her fists but kept them blood tight against her sides. “You think I’m a damn fool? I was a good cop! So I slept with you two detectives on that case! That was personal! You didn’t have to tell my bosses!”

Hutch reacted forgetting what he had told Starsky. “We didn’t tell any boss that!  Why would we?”

“To save each other’s asses that you each fuck from the fire! From I.A.!”

Hutch lifted his head to implore his point, “Kira, Starsky said nothing. To anyone. I was asked to go talk to the department shrink. It was confidential. I really believed that.”

Kira shifted her leg, putting her knee on the bed next to his waist, making sure she pinched his side with her weight. Hutch flinched. “Who leaves anything confidential when you’re asked to go talk? You had no right to tell her about the three of us. It just added to the case they wanted to build. Because I slept with that witness. Stupid jerks said I had an addiction to sex.”

Hutch asked without thinking. “What witness?”

Kira pulled off the bed and swirled, keeping her back to him, flailing her arms, “some little shit on a case I wanted to close! So I slept with him to get him to admit he had done it!”

Hutch followed somewhat. “That had to be after…”

Kira turned sideways, “Of course it was after! At Central! It was that or be put on another Vice case! How long did they expect me to strut around shaking my ass for perps? I wanted to win, I wanted to move up! How did I know the stupid jerk had a great lawyer and would tell the whole world what happened!”

Hutch couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s not the way, Kira.”

Her eyes turned to fire as she faced him fully now. “Don’t tell me what to do! Look at you, tied up, who’s in control now? Who’s got you exposed now? You think I’m going to let you get away with this? Keep your job over mine? I have every right to expose you two fags, because I know!”

Hutch pulled on the handcuffs, disengaging from her face. They hurt.

But Kira took it as an urgency. “Oh, no you don’t. You won’t get out of this. Because I’ve got one even better. You men, you think you can have the cake, then the frosting, then the whole police party with balloons and whistles. It’s a damn boy’s club, talking about who’s gonna have me in the locker room, then giving me that snide chick treatment in the squad room. And you two! No, not after what you did to take away my life, to make me have to totally re-invent myself, from my insides to my outsides. It hurt, Hutch! The surgeries! And it cost money! Money I had to go make serving the likes of old geezers that don’t last fifteen minutes!”

She grabbed a good bunch of his long hair, putting her face way too close to his. He jerked away as best he could, making it worse. She looked like she almost had fangs, the pain made his eyes bulge. “You and your precious Starsky, you’re just like all the others. Why should you have all the fun getting fucked? Getting it on? Does he always do you, with all that prowess, or do you get some top time? Well no more, big boy, no more. ‘Cause I’m going to fix that you never have the goods your man wants! That’ll take care of both of you, with one lop!”

She pushed on his face with her palm as she let his hair go, stomping out of the room.

Hutch was dizzy, his head spiked with pain from the hair pulling. What was happening? How long had it been so far? He couldn’t focus. Where’d she go? What did she just say? Jesus, no. She’d come back. Any minute. She’d come back.

~~*~~

Chapter 13

 

The cats had given up. Maybe they were listening instead to the sound of the creaking. It had a rhythm to it, a groan, small and low. Starsky rolled on one rear cheek, then the other, keeping his glutes tight. With his hands hung above him, he took rests, as his shoulders burned with every jolt to either side, trying to de-leverage the nails on the bracketed base of this false wall’s two by four.

He stopped to take a larger breath. All he could do is toggle between the work and watching the second hand on the clock. He’d tried to call for help, but the now drenched silk scarf in his mouth prevented the larger amount of air intake for the yell he really needed. But for every five minutes used, he spoke the only word that mattered to keep him company. He inhaled and said it as loud as he could so his ears could be filled with it, “Hutch.”

He had passed getting frantic twenty minutes ago. It was ten past one A.M.,  and he was on a roll now. One nail had lifted, though crookedly a good two inches. If it was a four inch nail, he had a ways to go.

He’d gotten his legs apart about seven inches before the rope knots got too tight. Able to grip the edge of his sneaker soles into the carpet, he used that distance to apply more torque to his effort. Then as he rocked more violently, his foot slipped, and he almost twisted his shoulder blade fully. The sharp pain woke up his ferocity. Something came to him.

If he could twist all the way around, he’d have the ability to scrunch and put his legs on the wooden post and really give it a push with his quads. He’d have to stand the strain in his torso and lats, but it could be done. He decided to try it before he put too much science into it, and flipped himself on the edges of his arches. With one swoop, his legs were on the lattice wall. Close enough. A quick push with both ankles and the wall staples let go. It freed him to get his feet in front of the two by four and hall ass. He kicked and kicked with all his muscular ability and slammed that seven foot piece of wood right out of its brackets, with one of the nails flying across the floor. He was free.

Quick to get to his knees, the board was diagonal in front of him, nearly laying down. He crawled and used the wood to get himself up, rushing to the door. He could get to his mouth with his cuffed hands and rip apart the scarf that kept him from speaking. With one more look at the clock, it was 1:21AM. He opened the door, arched one end of the wood out sideways and then the other, hobbling like a man in leg irons within the seven inches he could muster in small steps.

He started yelling, “Help! Policeman needs assistance. Open your doors, emergency!” A pre-teen girl opened the door three apartments down. The minute she saw him, sweaty, handcuffed, dragging a two by four, the sight was bad enough. But then she screamed, “Mommy, there’s a man out here with his pants down! He’s showing his wee!”

Starsky looked down in horror. His exposed groin, he’d forgotten. He dragged the board closer and attempted to cover up with his cuffed hands. “Get you mother, I’ve been kidnapped, I’m a policeman, honey! Trust me!”

Another door opened way down the hall behind him. He turned around. “Sir, police. Kidnap victim. Call Metro Division, emergency, 555-2200. Ask for Captain Dobey. Tell them Detective Starsky. Hurry!”

The man nodded in surprise and went back inside to call.

Starsky heard the girl’s mother fearfully speak, but he didn’t turn around. “What’s going on? What are you doing to my daughter?”

Starsky turned his head towards her, but kept his back to her still. “Ma’am, Detective Starsky, Metro. This is an emergency. I’m sorry, I’ve been drugged, kidnapped. Partially undressed. Will you help me? I can’t get out of these cuffs.”

The woman told her daughter to go inside. She closed the door. She approached gingerly, on one side, until she saw his underwear cut, his penis exposed. She looked at him shocked but quiet.

Starsky gave her a painful stare. “Please, I’m sorry. They did this to me. My badge, it’s in my coat pocket if you want to see it.”

She saw more fully now the underwear had been torn. She stood before him, looking down, and gently pulled his jeans together, buttoning the top, then carefully attempted to zip him, having to slightly adjust him so his pubic hair and loins didn’t get caught in the zipper edges.

She looked up at him when done. Starsky was close to tears. “Thank you. I apologize, really, about your child.”

She nodded with a tender smile. “It’s okay.”

The man returned. “They’re on their way.”

~~*~~

Dobey arrived on this one himself. He had to know what was happening. With a black and white and two officers, a set of handcuff keys separated Starsky from his ripped out wood. The woman had already cut his ankle ropes with scissors.

Dobey was informed quickly about Starsky’s ordeal. In the Torino with him, Starsky insisted on rushing to his own house. He implored his biggest fear is that Kira had tricked Hutch into looking for him, and explained as fast as he could her clever rouse of two apartment locations, two “different lives and identities” and how she was capable with deception and drugs to overtake them separately. He believed she’d use the same motis operandi on Hutch.

Rushing into his place, it took him seconds to find Hutch’s scribbled note. “Meredith’s 9PM.”

“Damn it!” Starsky barked. “She’s got him, Captain, this is what she wanted, she’d been after him all along.”

Dobey asked how long it would take to get there and for him to keep explaining. Miraculously, Starsky could drive the highest speed possible and keep filling him in about Kira’s madness.

Taking a corner almost throwing Dobey full force across the passenger door, he made his rebel yell, “Hang on, Hutch, we’re coming!”

~~*~~

Kira had been gone ten minutes, which seemed tortuously long. In the kitchen, she took her time getting a vial of THC oil out of the freezer. She looked for the stronger mixture of Rohypnol, known as a roofie, in a darker vial. She only had few pill’s worth, but it would do the trick. It would stimulate sex easier and make Hutch very open. She quickly warmed it up to a loose liquid under a hot tap. She thought it fair and clever of herself to give him a choice how he wanted things to go.

A quickly gulped glass of wine laced with a little for herself, she walked into the bedroom already feeling warm and fuzzier. She overlooked him, with his face towards the inside wall, his eyes closed, his lips pressed together with fear. He was still beautiful, like she remembered him. If he’d only cooperate, they could bring back what they had that night, his body was capable.

He turned when he heard her sigh in almost a happiness with herself. He met her smiling face with a cold stare. She popped out a small chuckle. “I have a surprise for you, my dear Hutch.” She sauntered in all hips and roses, with her hands behind her back. “Pick a hand.”

Hutch studied her quickly. What trick was this? “Kira, I won’t play, whatever this is.”

“Oh really? Well let me show you then. You can go the easy way, or the hard way.” She revealed her hands accordingly. One had the vial. One had the longest, sharpest ginsu knife he’d ever seen in his life.

Hutch lifted his arms to his elbows, almost sitting up. He hitched a breath, trying not to react.

“Let’s see,” she said as she placed both items on the vanity. She picked up the knife, and ran her eyes and hand along it’s sharp edge voluptuously, “this is the quick way to your cooperation…” She then put it back down and picked up the vial, “but this way, you get to enjoy a little session first. What do you say, love, think you can get up for it? It might wager me to decide if you’re worth keeping intact if I can see how it performs at full mast.” She laughed heartily.

Hutch remembered something suddenly. Cooperation, he had always said to Starsky, was the one method that led to a longer survival. Right now all he had to wager was what she wanted for what he wanted, which was the most time possible. Starsky was somewhere looking for him, he had to be. Did he dare ask her now what she did to him? He didn’t have time to decide if he should, before she came over in a rush, with the vial snapped open, grabbing the side of his mouth with her nails, and emptying the entire ounce in his mouth.

He tried to turn to choke it out, it was miserably warm, but she let the vial drop empty, as she pinched his mouth with her hands and as hard as she could, while she used her elbow to almost completely close his nostrils. He wasn’t going to have a choice, even though he struggled, he needed air and he’d have to swallow as he coughed, the liquid taking over.

She let him go, ripping away from him, as he sucked every inch of air he could muster for the next three breaths. He could already feel a tingle, and a dizzy dimming effect. She leaned against him, pressing on his chest with her hands, almost keeping him from taking larger breaths, as she rained kisses on his sternum, then straddled him again, now dropping her teddy to reveal her chest, rubbing it against him. “You might as well enjoy it, lover, it’s going to happen either way.” She licked and bit in little circles over his chest and waist, continuing to lower herself for her mouth to meet his crown.

Hutch’s head was a river, somehow beginning to forget where he was. Her hair was tickling him, he felt the skimming of curls, his eyes falling closed, dirty colored curls, titillating curls, dark curls, sweet scented Starsky curls.

Hutch ran a tongue across his teeth, feeling them almost polished by the green tasting oil. His tongue wanted more to do, as he felt a tongue wanting him. He remembered the basketball game they were supposed to play, who won he wondered, now that they decided to play one on one, oh, he was being consumed, his center was swelling, bouncing and taking him away.

His throat carelessly released a pleasurable sound. She lifted her head hoping he’d do it again. “That’s it, tell me how good it feels, as you harden for me. Tell me what you want, I’ll do more.”

His erection was thickening as he felt that head of hair. “More. Yes. Starsky, more.”

She popped up ripping her mouth off immediately. She grabbed his neck, making his eyes open wide. “Do you have a death wish? You want Starsky dead?”

Hutch could only focus for a few seconds. The room was awash. “Starsky’s alive!” He knew now. That’s all he wanted to know.

She lifted herself off him, seeing him helpless in full height. She grabbed his chin harshly and spoke sinisterly, “Of course he’s alive. I want him to see what he lost. What you both lost. You won’t get to use it on him again.”

Hutch felt so dizzy. “Starsk, no….”

She looked at his eyes that were rolling, looking for the ceiling and the walls. He didn’t seem to be paying her much attention. It made her furious. Why was he so affected so quickly, why can’t anything go right?  “All you care about is your boy toy. So be it. So say goodbye, Hutch, if you don’t want to use it on me. It’s you’re last chance to see it in action. She grabbed his penis and began to pump it wildly with one hand. She reached for the knife with the other.

~~*~~

The wooden bar at security in front of Meredith’s building was no match for a Striped Tomato with a 484 running full bore. Starsky screeched the Torino to a stop with a jolt, rushing out of her door, over her hood, and halfway up the stairs before Dobey had time to stand up out of her passenger side and hail the two black and whites to her left. In minutes, the younger officers ran up Starsky’s way, and were at Apartment 219. Pounding at the door, Officer Shaw broke the lock with his nightstick. His partner Bickford stepped inside with Starsky, and in ten seconds they knew it was empty.

Dobey arrived barking, “Well, Starsky?”

Starsky still had his gun perched high supported by his other hand on his elbow. “He’s here. I know he is. He’s–” Starsky’s thoughts were lightning. Kira’s m.o. “Start canvassing this floor. She’s got him here, just like she did with me!”

The officers rushed out, starting to yell and pound on doors. A man came out of one. Bickford interrogated quickly. “A blond woman, do you have–”

The man pointed to the door further down. “There was one there today. Don’t know her.”

Starsky was already there. He shot the lock. The door opened, with his shoulder. He raced in, Dobey behind, past the couch, weaving door to–

Starsky saw the sight. Hutch handcuffed. Kira straddled across him. The knife in her right hand. Hutch’s penis in her left.

He dropped his gun and lurched with all his power, hands out, leaping completely across the bed. Flying off the ground, in mid-air slamming across her, ripping her off the bed, tumbling into a somersault with her underneath him, onto the floor, sliding in a giant ball of legs and arms, smeared across the far wall, with the knife forcibly knocked free and flung under an arm chair.

Dobey approached two steps into the room, with three officers crowded behind him, almost slamming into his back. But the quick sight of Hutch dazed, naked, bound in all his glory, at the height of a humbling male erection made him take a step back, with Shaw shuffled face first against his wide stance. Dobey moved only to grab the officer and push him to Starsky’s aid. Shaw rushed over, not looking anyway.

Starsky pulled a screaming but dumbfounded Kira up with all his fury. “You crazy bitch! Take her!” He pounded her little frame right into Shaw, who now had his partner on the other side. “Get her outta here!”

Starsky turned to see Hutch. What the– Dobey looked on frozen, yelling, “do what he says, and shackle her up good! Squad car!” Dobey hailed all three officers from the room.

Starsky ripped off his coat immediately, and threw it over Hutch’s waist and legs. He knelt down to touch his face, weakly trying to center where he would put his fingers, like he had when he found his partner under his car after two days of looking for him. But this was worse, so much worse.

He fondled his chin and sideburns gently. “Hutch? Hutch, you okay? It’s me, Starsk.”

Hutch was fading in and out of a pleasant but creepy haze. He looked into those eyes he thought he knew, he believed he knew. “Starsky? Are you okay?”

Starsky slid his arms totally around him, not caring if Dobey saw. “I’m here, Hutch, we’re alright. It’s gonna be alright. Oh, God.”

Dobey searched his pockets. Handcuff keys. He took them almost reverently and tapped Starsky arm with his hand. “Here, son. I’ll send for an ambulance. Take care of him.”

Starsky raised himself and his eyes to Dobey, taking the keys politely. “Thanks, Cap.”

Dobey turned away, feeling his face tighten. He left the room to hunt for a phone and to keep his men from seeing the pain on his face for his two favorites.

Starsky took to separating Hutch from his bonds of handcuffs and rope. He rubbed each appendage with tenderness and pride.

Hutch swayed his head back and forth watching him. “Starsk, she tried to…she said…”

Starsky came back and sat beside him, as Hutch pulled into a fetal position across Starsky’s legs. Starsky covered him more with his coat, as his back and behind curled into Starsky’s safety. “Shh…not now. Don’t talk. Just know I’m here. I’m here.”

Hutch muttered, his face against the side of his partner’s waist, begging to cleave. “Don’t let go.” Starsky enveloped his back, stroking it lovingly, squeezing him, rubbing his head.

Starsky bent his head down, curling closer, whispering, “You bet, babe. I’m here.”

~~*~~

Chapter 14

 

Dobey leaned on the phone table in the posh apartment’s living room. “Very good. And I want a crime lab team here, but only in the morning. I’ll secure that this floor is taped off for that. Thanks.” Dobey hung up the phone.

As quiet as it was in the other room, the Captain wasn’t that comfortable going in to update his two detectives. They’ve been through the ordeal of their lives. Again.

He approached clearing his throat to give them an obvious warning. He turned the corner. Starsky had changed positions, sitting fully with his back against the headboard, with Hutch now covered by a blanket, curled in a ball beside him, his head leaning on Starsky’s lap, apparently still under some kind of influence that was not his fault.

Starsky looked up when Dobey came in. The Captain spoke softly. “Ambulance will be here soon. I’m going down to check on the prisoner, and have them sent through the proper channels. I want this done by the book, this was attempted murder of two police officers.” He didn’t dare to say “her” so he used “them,” assuming after having heard Starsky’s information of so many personalities, they were dealing with an amalgamation of terror.

Starsky nodded, then petted the blond head, as Hutch attempted to raise it. Starsky cooed, “Stay. It’s okay.”

Dobey lowered his voice to a whisper. “How is he?”

Starsky looked seriously at Dobey and shook his head slowly, piercing his lips. “He’s not going to want the ambulance, Cap.”

Dobey sighed. They always did this, tried to solve so much by themselves. But he didn’t blame them for not liking the hospital. They spent too much time there in their combined lives. And the process of dealing with a potential rape victim, who was an officer, may prove to be too much.

Starsky gave him a pleading look. He’d seen it many times before. Dobey knew he wouldn’t leave Hutch’s side to have a private conversation, not when he was found like this, embarrassed, mortified, out of control by a hallucinogenic drug that had now taken hold more fully. There was a lot at stake having his detective evaluated like this.

Dobey knew it was his call. What wasn’t recorded maybe wouldn’t hurt. But he also wanted the case to stick, and without the proper warrants and evidence already destroyed in the evening’s urgency, the situation would be highly based on circumstantial evidence or witness testifying. And Starsky’s colorful police reports.

Dobey came closer to the bed. “Okay. If you can let them look, at least confirm he’s been given what’s in the vial we found, why don’t we let it go at that if you think he’s not injured in any way. There’s no need to go through a full evaluation at the hospital tonight.”

Starsky had already checked Hutch’s body for bruises or any obvious abuse or broken bones. Starsky stroked Hutch’s cheek.  He had been nicked and scraped in the groin near his right leg, but it was a surface cut. They’d keep that to themselves. Starsky consoled, wanting him to decide. “Hutch? Is that better this way? I’ll take you home, take good care of you.”

Hutch nodded repeatedly. “Take me home, Starsk. Please.” He was still too mortified to speak directly to his superior.

Starsky looked up and spoke to both of them. “Okay, you got it. Just a little while longer and we’ll go,  I’ll take good care of you.” The brunette’s eyes had watery wells as he showed his face to the Captain.

Dobey gave Starsky’s shoulder a pat and prepared to leave. He knew if Hutch was well, that’s what he would have done for his partner. But Dobey did it for himself, too.

~~*~~

As the ambulance arrived, the paramedic was informed by Dobey what he wanted done. As they headed up, he approached the police car Kira was still in and looked in the window.

He would have never recognized her. There was not one iota of resemblance to the woman he remembered as a police officer, except for the size of her frame give or take twenty pounds. She was covered in an officer’s coat, due to being half undressed, looking furious and hostile. He shook his head in disgust and walked over to Officer Shaw and gave instructions on what to book her for. He wanted her kept in lock up, no medical evaluation until he was satisfied they had her processed. If she could do what she had done, he wasn’t going to let her cop a plea, so to speak, as easy as that. She knew how the system worked. He didn’t want her manipultaing it.

Dobey would stay in charge of the scene until morning’s light began to appear. He helped escort Hutch from the building once he came down dressed in what was left of his clothes, but wearing Starsky’s jacket. Starsky made sure to have the Torino driven to the back door of the apartment complex. He never wanted Hutch to have to look at that woman again.

~~*~~

Starsky led Hutch up the few steps to his Ridgeway apartment, as Hutch had implored he wanted to go back there, not Venice. The minute Hutch entered, he sighed loudly. Starsky shut the door behind them, thinking he knew exactly how his partner felt. Thank goodness they were home.

Hutch turned and put his arms on Starsky’s forearms. “I feel so dizzy, still, but you, oh Starsk, you look so good.”

Starsky smiled sadly. Cocking his head, he said, “You’re still feeling it, I reckon.”

Hutch grew serious. “No, no, I mean it. I’m just so glad she didn’t do anything to you. I was so worried– Starsk, we have so much to talk about.”

Starsky pulled him into the room, “I know. But not all at once. We need to get you settled. We have time for that much later.” Starsky was very concerned Hutch needed to sleep this off a little before they compared notes.

Starsky left Hutch on the couch as he prepared the bathroom for a bath. When Hutch heard the water he called out. “Starsky…I…”

Starsky came back. Hutch looked so wiped. “I…I don’t think I can take a bath, I want a shower.”

“I’m not sure you can stand up, buddy.”

Hutch lifted his hand a little, then rubbed his weak legs. “A shower, Starsk. You help me.”

Starsky came over and helped him walk, letting him lean on him. “Okay. Come on.”

Hutch undressed in the corner with his face to the wall. The thought of being naked made him feel so vulnerable. Then he snapped his own head back, he had to get over this. He didn’t want to think about that, it was over.

Hutch stepped into the shower a little unbalanced. He leaned his side on the wall. Starsky peeked in to check, the curtain still open. That’s what Hutch needed, contact with his face. “Starsky. Can you…can you be in here with me?”

Starsky looked into those pained eyes and understood. Hutch didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to be with the person he trusted. Starsky wouldn’t deny him anything now. They both had almost “bought it.” They were lucky to be back all in one piece.

Starsky started unbuttoning his shirt, never taking his eyes off Hutch. After everything that had happened, there was nothing he had to hide and nothing he couldn’t reveal. Dropping his pants, Hutch saw the ripped underwear fall. He almost jumped out of the shower towards him. “Starsky! Oh, no, no. Did she–”

Starsky came forward with as much momentum, to keep Hutch from falling, and they met in a clutch, almost under the warm stream of water. Hutch fully embraced Starsky violently and gasped, “Oh, God, what happened? What did she try to do to you? To us?” Hutch was near collapsed with fear.

Starsky kept them both standing, holding Hutch tightly. He grabbed at Hutch’s neck and implored, “Shh, hey, I’m alright, everything’s alright.” Starsky gathered the wet ends of Hutch’s hair in a bunch behind his neck. He stroked his long back with his wet hands and turned him sideways into the stream.

The water felt wonderful, cleansing, like it would wash away some of the incidents they both had endured alone, but as well encased them, into a waterfall of safety, luxurious and freeing, washing away from their skin the sweat of their terrors, the hands someone else had put upon them, the smells and sensations of bodies, a body, that didn’t belong upon them.

Instead, as Starsky turned them in the stream, adjusting the Waterpik shower head to a more rain like effect, the downpour saturated and purged, softening their agitation, purifying their outside shell. Starsky took the bar of soap and began to slide it across Hutch’s shoulders and back lovingly, washing him as he would a terrified animal, gently, daintily, with awe and respect. Hutch crumbled into the veneration, captivated by the scent of Starsky’s sandalwood, so familiar and enticing, feeling a dream had come true, he was safe, he was rejuvenated, he was rescued, he was loved…

Still under the influence of the drug, the relaxed and savored aura of being with Starsky combined with Hutch’s partial lack of control over his body, and within a minute, a raging erection emerged, just as Starsky’s hand and soap came very close to the area.

There was no denying what was happening.

Hutch looked into Starsky’s surprised face. “I, I can’t help it, Starsk. I…”

But Starsky was done with apologies. He dropped the soap immediately, letting it fall onto the drain, as he pressed his mouth, and his groin onto his partner, kissing those nervous lips with conviction, while he undulated his own hardness against Hutch’s.

Hutch wanted this so much. He grabbed at Starsky’s shoulder for strength as they both circled in the stream of water, enjoying the erotic dance between their wet skin, their manly affectations and their curious tongues.

The rapid build up of released tensions and unprecedented pleasure took over their senses. All that had been caused, the attempt to date again, the desire to find closeness with some one else, the tension between them, the competition, the anger and fury of their arguments, the past revelations and disclosed secrets, all was falling away, rinsing off them, as the purity and honesty of their love emerged like a fountain between them, always having innerly been there.

Starsky gathered both their hands together and guided Hutch lovingly to touch his center, hardening to match his partner’s. The sheer shock of the joy that it caused made them both unsteady, wherein Hutch had to use his other hand to brace the wall.

Hutch pulled Starsky against the wall with his asking mouth, never letting the kiss they started end. Within minutes the rising tide of their need for each other escalated beyond what they ever knew in their lives. Together, they rocked and fondled their maleness, cooled only by the water’s tepidity. They had each other’s clean skin at this most sensitive of places touching, pleading, grasping with conviction and fondness at the same time, hankering for the tactile delectation. They murmured little sounds in each other’s throat, heightening with hardly trying, when all but a blaze hit their minds, hearts and matter, spraying and sharing their selves with each other, one after the other, at a height of teeming ecstasy they could never have known with anyone else. Hutch’s legs nearly collapsed by the bliss it wrung out of him, as he slid, moaning and wasted, having Starsky’s name in his mouth, spent from the monstrous pleasure of the high of his life, as Starsky absorbed his own ferocious escalation. Neither could say a word.

Starsky held him close, lovingly, wiping his face by his ear, soothing his overwhelmed partner even though he had experienced his own massive sodden joy. They were drowned in emotion and exhaustion, wrung out by all they had faced that was so ugly and sinister, replaced by this profound submergence.

Gingerly, Starsky stepped out for a towel and affectionately wiped at Hutch’s face and neck, while he helped keep him upright, putting his arms around him to take him to the bedroom. With Hutch by the bed, Starsky swabbed at his arms and legs, getting most of the droplets, before accidentally wiping at the cut area by the crease of his right leg. Hutch pulled away and flinched. “Ouch, oh!” He fell back onto the bed.

Starsky gathered him, while looking down checking the sensitive wound. The whole terrible situation came rushing back. “Hutch, you’re cut. And it’s bleeding.” Starsky dabbed a little at the blood spot with his finger.

Hutch put his hand on Starsky’s. “I’m okay. Just a flesh wound. The knife got me a little when you…”

Starsky fell onto the bed by his partner’s side. “Oh, no. I did this. I shouldn’t have jumped—”

Hutch put his arms around him quickly. “No, no Starsk, look at me.” Starsky’s eyes looked horrified. Hutch touched his hair, slid his fingers down to his cheek. “You saved me.”

Starsky shivered. “I could have… Hutch–” He thought about what a slip of that knife could have done.

Hutch took Starsky’s hand from the side of his leg and placed it on his penis. “No, Starsky. We’re okay.” Hutch even smiled for the first time, he seemed to be coming back to himself. “Besides, I don’t think I would ever see you fly over me in the air like that. Like Superman. I’ll never forget it.”

It was the only part Starsky would ever want to remember, the power he had to save him this time. After Hutch had done so much for him in the last year. He felt invincible in that second, and maybe when they got more comfortable with talking, he’d tell Hutch how physically beautiful he thought he was, where Starsky’s hand was being held now. He was so happy they were both equally male. That really mattered now in even a better way than it always had.

They stared at each other, deeply, and searched each other’s faces. Then Hutch moved in for a reverent, tender kiss. He pressed Starsky’s hand against him tighter, whispering, “I’m yours. Forever.”

Starsky dislodged himself to surround his arms around Hutch completely. “Oh, Hutch! I never even would have cared about that! I just want you, all of you, forever too!”

They held each other for what seemed like hours, through a half night and full day, after crawling under the blankets, half resting, half discussing, half shaking, half loving. They’d say it all, they’d tell all that had happened and they’d experience everything, swearing against anything ever taking them apart ever again. And they’d found what was never lost at all, what was always there in plenitude, and they would continue to make it more.

 

~~FINIS~~