Claddagh

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While solving a series of hospital robberies, Starsky and Hutch discover their love for each other has changed. Takes place post-SR.

 

Special thanks to CC. This is the first story I have ever written. I have always thought the claddagh rings were perfect for the guys.

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Part One

Chapter One

He sat quietly in the booth watching the two men talking by the jukebox. Huggy dropped a few coins in the machine as Hutch threw his head back and laughed at something Huggy had said. Starsky thought how relaxed Hutch looked. It was good to see him smiling and laughing again. The last four months had been stressful and full of many “what if’s.”

What if he had died from the gunshot wounds from Gunther’s hit men? What if he survived but was permanently disabled or had serious brain damage? What if he had not been able to return to work? What if..? So many nights he laid in the hospital bed playing that game til he thought he would go nuts. And if he thought he was going crazy he “knew” Hutch was hanging on by a thread.

“Hutch,” Starsky sighed softly. When did it change? How does one go from feeling so much love for your best friend to being “in love” with him? When did he cross the line? He felt he more or less fell across the line rather than crossed it. He only knew that he loved Hutch with everything he was. That had always been true, only now it was physical as well as emotional.

The jukebox started to play Huggy’s selection and Starsky recognized the song. He softly began to sing the haunting melody as he watched the man he loved head toward the bar to get their drinks.

Sitting here in this chair
waiting for you, oh baby
to see things my way
but not a word do you say
you won’t even look my way

Starsky improvised a little as he sang, interchanging the words to make the song more personal. He never took his eyes off Hutch.

Boy, I’m spending my dime
wasting my time
talking till I’m black and blue
Oh can’t you see?
I wanna get next to you.

A wistful expression crossed Starsky’s face as he hummed along to the song. He was so deep in thought he missed seeing Hutch turn to look at him.

Dreams of you and I go sailing by,
whenever your eyes meet mine,
you’re so fine.
And boy, you make me feel so insecure,
you’re so beautiful and pure,
why must you be unkind?
And tell me I’m not your kind
blowing my mind.

Sadness now replaced the wistful expression. Starsky continued to softly sing, mourning what he knew he could never have.

At the bar, Hutch’s smile faded as he watched the play of emotions cross Starsky’s face. Setting the drinks down, he headed toward the booth. As he got closer, he could hear Starsky singing softly.

Boy, my, my money is low
And I know, that I cant take you
to the fancy places
You might want to go
Still, I wanna get next to you.

Hutch eased in the seat beside his partner. Starsky looked up, his eyes sad and wistful, but quickly turning sheepish as he realized he has been so caught up in the song that he didn’t notice Hutch had sat beside him.

Eyes full of concern, Hutch placed his hand on the nape of Starsky’s neck. Rubbing softly, he asked, “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Hutch. Stop worrying, will ya?” Starsky gently scolded, but he softened the words by leaning into the caress.

“I’m doing better. I haven’t tried to smother you but eight times today, and this is your first week back to active duty.”

“Yeah, but so far we’ve only been on duty today for four hours,” Starsky smirked.

Hutch was saved from commenting by Huggy, who brought their drinks from the bar and the food they had ordered earlier.

Smiling, with a sparkle in his eye, Huggy said, “Go easy on him, bro, he’s trying.” He sat the plates on the table.

“Hey, what’s this?” Starsky eyed the plate of food as if he expected it to attack him at any moment. “I didn’t order green food!” He turned and glared at his partner. “Hutch, you are really pushing it when you start to mess with my lunch.”

“Not me this time, Gordo.”

Two pair of blue eyes looked accusingly at Huggy.

Huggy smiled. “It’s going to take a while for all of us not to smother you some. That’s what you get for scaring the hell out of us. And for your information, this is a Huggy special – chicken salad a la Starsky. Guaranteed to provide energy and revitalization. I even added croutons on the side to help with weight gain.” Huggy frowned at Starsky’s dejected expression. “Don’t complain,” he scolded,” It’s on the house.”

Hutch eyed the salad, “Looks good.”

“I would trade,” Starsky said sadly. “But I am in no mood for pretend burger.” He brightened, “Share your fries?”

“It’s a veggie burger, Starsk, It’s good.” Hutch moved the plate of fries away from Starsky’s reach. ” And stay out of my fries, they’re bad for your heart.”

Huggy went to leave but stopped. Turning back he watched the two men vie for the plate of fries, Hutch still teasing Starsky about his healthy lunch and Starsky still gripping about it. “It’s really nice….” Huggy’s voice faltered. He tried again when two pair of blue eyes gazed up at him. “It’s just. . . really good to see things set right again.” He quickly left the table and headed back to the bar.

“Is it me or did I see Huggy’s eyes tear up?” Starsky said, slightly surprised at the wealth of emotion in Huggy’s _expression.

“No babe, I saw it too,” was Hutch’s soft reply.

 

Chapter Two

Dobey sat at his desk picking up the file he had laid down five minutes ago. Noting the time, he realized he had been shifting the file from hand to desk to hand and back again for over thirty minutes. ‘You have to stop protecting him,’ he scolded himself.

Starsky had been back on full active duty for a week now. Since Starsky’s return it had been unusually slow, yet the few cases that had come by he had assigned to other detectives. Being honest with himself now, he admitted he hadn’t been ready to send his favorite team back in the streets to face a potentially dangerous situation. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Starsky and Hutch would soon see through the farce and call him on it.

Decision made, he pushed himself away from his desk and out of his chair. He went to open his office door.

“Starsky, Hutchinson, my office,” he bellowed. Dobey turned his head quickly, realizing he was ruining his ‘I mean business bellow’ with the smile that was spreading across his face. God, it felt good to be able to say that again.

Starsky got to his feet and followed Hutch to the office. “I haven’t missed that at all,” he muttered.

 

Chapter Three

” I called in the pizza. You turn to pay,” Starsky hollered to the bathroom door.

“My wallets on the bed,” Hutch answered finishing his shower and entering the bedroom. He grabbed the sweat pants and tee shirt he had left on the bed. “Do we have to watch Jaws? That show we watched last night…..” Hutch was quickly interrupted by Starsky.

“My turn to pick what we watch. Last night I had about enough of ‘How to build you own green house in twelve easy steps.’ They had to be kidding, easy for who?”

“It didn’t look too bad.”

“Do not get any ideas.”

Hutch moved in with Starsky when he was discharged from the hospital. He had persuaded Starsky into agreeing with the living arrangement, stating it was silly to waste money paying for two apartments when he was staying with him until he recovered. The plan had been that once Starsky was better, Hutch would get a new place. Problem was, Starsky had been better for a while now and neither man seemed interested in changing their current living status.

Both Starsk, and Hutch felt an almost desperate need to remain together. They hadn’t talked about it, but both seemed to acknowledge it was there and simply accepted it.

With pizza, popcorn, and beer present and the T.V. turned to the latest horror flick, the two men settled on the couch. Sitting close, enjoying each other’s warmth and presence, they relaxed and ate. Starsky, enjoying the movie, Hutch enjoying Starsky.

 

Chapter Four

“Please.” The word was whispered with an almost desperation. Just one word so softly spoken, Starsky was at first unsure what woke him.

“Please don’t leave me, please….” Hutch’s lips were tightly pressed together, the words forcing themselves out.

Starsky’s arm hurt. He tried to move it away from the pain but found it was encased in the iron hard grip of his partner’s hand. Raising his head off the couch, Starsky saw how white and tense Hutch’s face was. He looked as if he was going to scream at any moment, but the only sound he emitted was the barely whispered, “please.”

Starsky knew what the nightmare was about. Ignoring the pain in his arm from his friend’s death grip, he reached with his free hand to stroke the troubled face and brow. He knew from past experience the best way to bring Hutch back to the present was to speak softly to him. Leaning close so that his mouth was almost touching Hutch’s ear, Starsky spoke gently, “I’m here, Babe. Can you hear me?”

“Please,” was the only reply.

“It’s not real Hutch. I’m ok, not for one moment would I ever leave you. I’m here waiting for you. Come back to me. Try babe, I’m right here.”

“Don’t go, please,” Hutch turned his head toward Starsky’s voice, but still remained locked in the nightmare.

“I’d never leave ya, Blondie. Come on, I need you now, come back to me.”

Hutch’s eyes opened and at first he stared through Starsky. But then, the far away desperate look faded and the crystal blue eyes focused on his partner. The death grip eased on Starsky’s arm and Hutch’s body began to relax.

For a long time neither partner spoke. Hutch lay quietly letting his mind accept that this had only been another nightmare. Starsky had not died in his arms that fateful day, but was resting beside him, alive, unhurt and whole.

Starsky continued to stroke his friend’s face, needing to comfort and connect with his mentally exhausted partner. Having dealt with the nightmares over the past four months, he knew Hutch was not ready to discuss what had just happened. Although the dreams were not as frequent as when he was first injured, Starsky knew they were just as horrific. Hutch had described them briefly only once before. He said they always occurred in slow motion and in full technicolor. In the dream, Hutch felt as if he were screaming at the top of his lungs but the only sound to part his lips was a whispered plea for help. No matter how hard he tried to scream, he could not. All around, people ignored them, while he struggled to stop his best friend’s blood from flowing heavily between his fingers.

Deciding his friend was quiet long enough, Starsky whispered a soft, “Hey.”

Sad cornflower blue eyes met his briefly then found an interesting spot on Starsky’s shirt to gaze. A low, “I’m ok, thanks,” was the only reply.

“Not good enough, Blondie,” Starsky thought to himself. He lifted Hutch’s chin, encouraging the beautiful eyes to look at him. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Might help.”

“Not now, Starsk,” Hutch pleaded. “Give me a little more time. I…I’m not ready yet. I promise it’ll be soon, ok?”

Eyes full of love and concern for his friend, Starsky relented. “Ok, not now. But I’m starting to worry a little, I can see it’s wearing you down. Hutch….I’m better now. You don’t have to carry the load alone anymore. I’m here, babe, we can get through this together.

“I know. It’s not that I don’t need you and I want to be able to talk it out. . . but, I just don’t want to think about it anymore right now.” Hutch sighed, “I’m so tired, Starsk.” He tried to look as pitiful as possible in hopes Starsky would let it go for now.

Starsky took pity on his friend. The nightmares did drain Hutch. He was pale and his skin was clammy to the touch.

“Hey, how about a shower, then bed. Sound good?”

“Sounds great, Starsk.”

Emerging from his second shower of the night, Hutch stood at the bathroom door looking unsure of where he should go.

Sitting on the bed, Starsky watched his subdued partner. Teasing a little, he said, “If that’s your idea of a sexy pose, I have a headache,”

Hutch’s eyes grew wide as saucers, then his face lite up in a smile that quickly turned to laughter. Shaking his head, he sat on the opposite side of the bed and looked at Starsky, for once at a loss for words.

“Hop in, Blondie. I promise to be a perfect gentlemen,” Starsky teased, wanting to keep the sparkle in Hutch’s eyes,

“Yeah, but will you respect me in the morning?” Hutch replied. He eased under the cool sheets to rest beside his partner, glad Starsky knew he still needed the physical contact.

Turning out the light, Starsky countered, “You fix breakfast, not only will I respect you, I promise to call ya later too.”

 

Part Two

Loyalty

Chapter Five

The delicious aroma of fresh coffee greeted Starsky and Hutch when they arrived in the department the next morning. Several detectives were gathered around Keith “Papa” Sorenson and Pete Dragone’s desks.

Pete was a transfer from San Francisco and had only been in the department for a few weeks. He was partnered with Papa after Joe Moss, Papa’s previous partner of ten years, took early retirement after being diagnosed with lung cancer.

Papa turned around and spotted Starsky and Hutch as they came in the door. “Hey guys,” he said as he munched on a doughnut.

Starsky noted there were three half eaten boxes of doughnuts on the desk.

“Yum, police food. What’s the occasion?” He asked as he peeked through the doughnuts to grab one with sprinkles. He held one up for Hutch who waved his hand in a ‘that’s ok, no thanks’ motion. Hutch headed toward the coffee, which smelled wonderful.

“Sandy bought doughnuts and gourmet coffee over to welcome my new partner to the department,” Papa replied.

Sandy was Papa’s wife who worked in Dispatch. Papa and Sandy had been married for twenty-five years and had eight kids.

With a head full of snow white hair and twinkling blue eyes, Papa Sorenson looked older than his forty-five years. He was tall and stout with a gentleness combined with an inner strength that made people respond to his fatherly image, hence the nickname, “Papa.” Just about everyone knew Papa. He was well liked and respected by most, if not all of the police department.

Hutch walked over to his partner and handed him a cup of coffee. “This is really good,” he said.

Stasky went to grab another doughnut, but Hutch slapped his hand away. “You’ll spoil your lunch,” He said firmly.

“That’s funny, you don’t look like Ma,” Starsky grumbled.

Dobey’s office door opened and he poked his head out shouting the first, “Starsky, Hutchinson,” bellow of the day.

With one last longing glance at the disappearing pastries, Starsky followed Hutch into Dobey’s office.

“Sit down,” Dobey said around a powdered doughnut.

Starsky and Hutch gapped at their captain. He had an entire box of doughnuts on his desk. “How’d you manage to get your own box?” Starsky whined. He peeked inside to see if there were any sprinkled doughnuts left.

Dobey shook his half eaten doughnut at Starsky. “Those are not for you, Sandy wanted to make sure you guys left some for me, so she gave me my own box.”

“Come on Cap, can’t you part with one?” Starsky gave his best pitiful look. It wasn’t working. Not much could part Dobey from a doughnut.

“First,” Dobey said, ignoring Starsky as he sat at his desk. “Anything new to report on the hospital case?”

“Nothing new,” Hutch replied,” We plan to go to Memorial this morning to talk to the staff.”

“Don’t forget to get the reports from Burglary. It was their case before the nurse was killed.”

“Who were the lead detectives working the case in Burglary?” Hutch asked.

Dobey looked at some papers on his desk before he replied, “Biglow and Peterson.”

“Aw, man!” Starsky groaned. “Not those guys.”

“Maybe Minnie will run over and get them for us,” Hutch mused. He was also not thrilled to have any contact with those two, especially Biglow.

“Minnie is not your private secretary,” Dobey eyed each of his men. “Be professional, you don’t have to work with them, just get the reports.”

“But, Cap, they hate us, especially after that stunt the guys pulled on ’em.”

“I’m thru talking about this, Starsky,” Dobey replied, his patience wearing thin. “Get the reports, end of discussion. Now, on to more unpleasant news.”

“What?” Both partners frowned at Dobey.

“The new Chief of Police thinks it’s a good idea for all detectives in high stress work areas to have annual psychological reviews. . . guess which team is first?”

“Aww. . . you got to be kidding, Cap,” Starsky moaned.

“Why us first?” Hutch questioned, a concerned look on his face.

“The psych Doc,” Dobey addressed his papers again. Finding what he was looking for, he continued, “Her name is Dr. Portia Stanberry. She reviewed all the detective’s files in this department and concluded you two had the most interesting files she had ever seen. I had to assure her that it wasn’t a joke. I also stressed to her that you are my best team. She’s very anxious to meet with you, separately, of course, its all confidential.”

“Suppose we don’t want to meet with her?” Hutch challenged, getting angry.

Starsky glanced at his partner. There was something else in Hutch’s voice, but he was unable to decipher it. Worry….Fear?

“This comes from the Chief, Hutchinson. You don’t have a say. You and Starsky will meet with Dr. Stanberry next Tuesday before your evening shift starts. I have you down for ten A.M. and one P.M. You’re first, Hutchinson.”

Dobey returned to his papers and doughnut. He looked up after a few minutes, surprised to see the partners still in their seats. “Why are you still here?” He asked.

Slowly getting up, both men looked glumly at their Captain. Hutch wanted to say something else, but Starsky shooed him out the door. “Let it go, Hutch, nothing we can say is going to change the fact that we still have to go.”

Starsky quickly headed back to Papa’s desk, hoping there was a doughnut left. He missed seeing the slightly panicked _expression on his partners face.

 

Chapter Six

“Why so glum?” Huggy sat Starsky and Hutch’s lunch on the table.

“We have to pick up some files from Burglary after we leave here,” Starsky replied.

“That’s all? You two look like someone took away your favorite blow up toy,” Huggy teased.

“Up yours, Hug,” Starsky groaned.

“So ya gonna tell the Bear? You got me curious now.” Huggy sat down opposite the partners.

“You remember when Starsky went back on duty?” Hutch waited for Huggy to nod.

“Well, it was two in the afternoon. We didn’t have to be at work til three. Starsky just

had to stop by Rupert Finney’s Jewelry store on Twelfth and Main to show me this watch he wanted. Starsky goes in the store practically every other day looking at that watch.” Hutch was interrupted by Starsky, who huffed,” I do not!”

“Anyway,” Hutch continued, grinning at Starsky. “Rupert knows Starsky pretty well. So we were surprised when we got in the store and Rupert is acting like he’d never seen us before. He’s all proper, calling us ‘Sir’ and showings us around the store. Something wasn’t right.”

Starsky picked up the story. “I looked around trying to figure out what was going on when I saw a pair of boots peeking from under the curtain in the back room. Well, to make a long story short, we had wondered into a robbery in progress. We subdued the suspects. It was pretty easy, actually, considering later we found out they were the ones who were responsible for fifteen jewelry store robberies over the past six months. Burglary wanted them bad, they had gotten so cocky they would leave messages taunting the detectives. Anyway, you can guess they weren’t too happy to discover we had caught them single handed thirty minutes before going to work and on my first official day back. The guys in our department teased them for days. This really pissed of the lead detectives on the case, Biglow and Peterson.” Starsky paused, looking at Hutch.

“The guys in homicide would not let it go, they picked on Biglow and Peterson unmercifully,” Hutch continued. “Nobody likes Biglow and Peterson. Biglow is mean and obnoxious. And Peterson is forever taking up for him. So no one passed up the opportunity to remind them that the case they had worked for six months with almost no leads was solved by the ‘dynamic duo’ on the way to work on their first day back together.”

“Yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t be too popular with those guys,” Huggy agreed.

“It gets worse,” Starsky said. “When Biglow and Peterson came to work a few days after the bust, they had a present on their desk.”

“I’m afraid to ask. . . What?” Huggy leaned on the table curious as to what had been left for the detectives.

“It was a flashlight. Someone had cut out a silhouette of a bat and pasted it to the light in the flashlight. They left a note too. It said, ‘Thought you guys might want a bat signal in case you need the dynamic duo again.'”

Huggy burst out laughing. “Oh, man, I bet you guys are really popular in that department.

“Starsk and I picked up a new case yesterday,” Hutch said, shaking his head and smiling softly. “A couple of hospitals have been robbed over the past few weeks. The robberies were well organized and appeared to be by the same group.”

“What they stealing?” Huggy asked.

IV morphine and demerol mostly, and some sleeping pills.” Hutch replied. “Burglary lost the case to us when the thieves killed a nurse in the last job they pulled.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Huggy looked perplexed.

“Guess who the lead detectives are on the case?” Starsky snickered.

“Uh, oh. . .Biglow and Peterson?” Huggy tried not to laugh, but failed miserably.

“You guessed it,” Hutch replied.

Chapter Seven

“Well, well, well. . . look who decided to grace us with their presence, Homicide’s own Dynamic Duo,” Marion Biglow snorted upon seeing Starsky and Hutch walk in the door of the Burglary Division of the BCPD.

“Yeah, well, we saw the bat signal,” Starsky retorted.

Hutch glared at Starsky, ‘behave,’ his _expression scolded. Starsky gave him his most innocent look.

Marion Biglow was angry. But, he was always mad at something so it was really hard to determine at times just what pissed him off. Unless it was about Starsky and Hutch. Everything about them pissed him off. He was so jealous of them he practically turned into the green-eyed monster at the mere mention of their names. He hated them because they had the best arrest record in the entire Bay City Police Department. They were smart and well liked by fellow cops. They were handsome (although he would never admit it) and most of all, he hated them because the women were crazy about them.

“What they got, I ain’t got?” Biglow asked himself again for probably the hundredth time. He was tall, six feet, one inch, with a shape of a body builder. Thick blonde hair covered his head. He thought he was pretty handsome, but for some reason he had a hard time getting women to date him. And he always lost out to Hutch. Women loved that guy. Biglow felt like the wicked Queen when he looked in his bathroom mirror in the mornings.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall,
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Not you, you blonde wannabe,
Its Hutch all the women see.

Ok, so maybe he wasn’t a true blonde. But try as he might, he couldn’t figure out what Hutch had that he didn’t. Well. . . except maybe a cool nickname, Biglow conceded. He just went by his last name like most cops did. Besides, no one dared to call him Marion. . . except David Starsky, and that’s why he hated him.

Biglow paused a moment in thought and absently watched the two detectives. He was only halfway paying attention to what Hutch was saying, wasn’t anything new anyway, different case, same shit.

He hated how close they were. Starsky and Hutch were tight, everyone knew that, even the bad guys. So tight, people said their names like they were on person – StarskyandHutch.

Biglow had no real friends, his own family could barely stand him. No, no one liked him very much. He frowned, no one except his nerdy, pansy partner, Decker Peterson.

Decker Peterson practically worshiped Biglow. He never questioned anything Biglow did, even when it was flat out wrong. Peterson always made excuses and covered for him. . . Decker got on Biglow’s last nerve.

Biglow glanced over at his partner. Peterson was short and slight with big blue eyes and black hair. He was. . . well. . . pretty. Biglow frowned. He knew about the jokes in the department about them, Decker being his love toy. Decker didn’t help any, always ‘mooning’ over him.

He would have gladly put in a request for a new partner but he knew no one else would put up with his shit. Therefor he was stuck with the pansy.

Oh well, Biglow mentally shrugged. At least Decker was a halfway good detective. And even though he looked like a pansy he was pretty tough, Biglow conceded. Decker was really good at that Kung Fu crap. Their arrest record wasn’t bad either, but it was nothing compared to the dynamic duo.

Bringing himself back to the present, Biglow listened as his nemesis requested the files on the hospital robbery case.

“. . . . And if you just let us have the files we’ll be on our way,” Hutch finished.

“Peterson, get the files for Boy Wonder here, would ya?” Biglow ordered his partner as he took a step closer to Hutch, purposely invading his personal space. “What’s wrong, Hutch? I thought you ‘Wonder Boys’ didn’t need anyone’s help. Might look bad for your reputation, borrowing our work to solve your case,” he sneered.

“I’m just following procedure,” Hutch replied, trying to keep the peace. But he couldn’t help displaying some defiance by refusing to step back away from Biglow. Biglow continued to glare at Hutch, but Hutch met his gaze with his own icy stare, refusing to back down.

Hutch’s eyes remained locked with Biglows as he held out his hand to receive the files. “Thanks, Decker,” he replied.

Unable to maintain the tense contact, Biglow glanced away and stepped back, mad that he could not intimidate Hutch. But, as he turned to leave, a cruel gleam flashed in Biglow’s eyes. There was one thing his nemesis feared. Biglow smiled, realizing he could get some payback for the jewelry bust.

“Heard you guys got the first date with the new department shrink,” he smirked.

“So,” Starsky retorted, following Hutch to the door, “She’s gonna get a crack at everyone.”

“Yeah, but I wonder what she’s gonna think when she finds out Homicide’s ‘Golden Boy’ here almost went psycho after you got shot? I know your department and Captain tried to keep it ‘hush, hush’, but everyone knew he was f’ing nuts. So bad, the guys in his own department were afraid to partner with him. Rumor has it, he’s still bonkers. . . Haven’t parked in the garage yet have ya, Hutch?” Biglow gleefully taunted.

Hutch trembled, his hand falling off the door knob to clench in a fist at his side. “Y-y…you’re lying….N-n-not true,” Hutch whispered. But, Biglow heard the doubt in his voice.

“Bingo!” Biglow thought. ‘I got ya now.’ He leaned close to Hutch. “All it takes is for her to get a bug in her ear and Batman here loses his Boy Wonder to that special ‘bat cave’ at Cabrillo State for a little rest and relaxation. No more dynamic duo,” he teased, patting Hutch’s check in mock sympathy.

Biglow was so thrilled to have rattled Hutch he made the mistake of ignoring Starsky, so he wasn’t prepared for what happened next. While Biglow confronted Hutch, Starsky had quietly eased closer. When Biglow touched Hutch, Starsky moved so fast Biglow never saw him coming. Pushing the larger man away from his partner, Starsky growled, his voice low and dangerous, “We all know you’re a prick, Marion….” He paused when Peterson looked as if he may intervene, but one look at the rage building in Starsky’s eyes prompted Decker to remain passive. Returning his gaze to Biglow, Starsky continued. “But, I didn’t think you were that damn stupid. NEVER, and I do mean never, threaten my partner!”

Biglow’s eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets as he struggled to escape Starsky’s death grip. The smaller man however, refused to let him go. “Just remember that ‘bug’ can fly both ways, you sorry piece of shit,” Starsky retorted. Pushing Biglow away from him, Starsky turned and herded Hutch out the door. Biglow stood shaking in both anger and fear. He was afraid of Starsky and that knowledge nearly sent him into a rage, for he knew now that he was to much of a coward to report Hutch. He was afraid of Starsky’s wraith. Face red, he looked around to see his coworkers smirking at him. Peterson moved to his side, a concerned look on his face. Biglow sneered at him. “Don’t say shit, just get my jacket and lets get the hell out of here before I go off on somebody.”

Outside, Starsky pulled at Hutch’s arm to get his attention. “You’re not gonna let that idiot get to ya, are you?” He asked his friend. Hutch’s eyes still looked troubled, but he replied, “No, I’m ok.”

Starsky studied Hutch, his _expression turning hard as he sensed an uneasiness in his partner. “Look,” he insisted, “Marion is a jealous shit. I don’t want you getting spooked by that crap he was feeding ya. There’s nothing or nobody strong enough to split us up. I won’t let anyone change that.” …And woe be to the fool who tries, Starsky silently vowed.

Somehow, hearing Starsky declare with such fury his refusal to let anything come between them calmed Hutch considerably. Chuckling to himself, he realized he may now be calm, but his partner was bow-string taunt with anger. “Hey,” Hutch said softly. “Thanks for having my back in there.” “No one messes with my partner,” Starsky growled. Hutch batted his eyes and said in his best ‘damsel-in-distress’ voice, “My Hero.” Starsky’s face flamed red as Hutch pulled him close and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Laughing at his partner’s stunned  expression, Hutch headed to the Torino. “Payback for last night,” he said.

 

Part Three

Love

Chapter Eight

Although Starsky thought himself tired when he finally got into the bed, sleep remained elusive.

The little detective in his head refused to go to sleep. They had few leads to the hospital robbery case that ended with the death of a young nurse. He tried to will his brain to give it a rest, but lately his mind and body had decided to go on a rebellion.

His thoughts drifted to his partner. Being around Hutch lately was becoming increasingly distracting. Several times he had come dangerously close to getting caught ‘mooning’ over his best friend. He tried to reign in his raging libido, but unfortunately, telling himself to keep an emotional distance from the object of his affection was not working well. Lust and admiration was screwing with his good intentions, sort of like…Well, now for instance.

Since that last nightmare Hutch had, he’d foregone sleeping on the oversized couch that had been his bed the past four months to sharing the bed with Starsky. Not that he minded, Starsky was in ‘Hutch heaven.’ They always got in the bed being extra careful to remain on ‘their’ side. But, Starsky quickly discovered Hutch was a bed hogger. During the course of the night he would stretch out and end up in the middle of the bed usually sprawled half over Starsky. He would wake up to Hutch’s arm lying over his belly or thighs. Wiggling out from under Hutch was not an option either. The minute he tried to move Hutch would ‘reel him in’ tight to his body. Starsky was not complaining, after all, he really had no desire to escape the embrace. He cherished this time so much he felt he had unintentionally conditioned his mind to wake before the alarm so he could enjoy a little extra snuggle time with the man he loved. It had some drawbacks, Starsky conceded, his lower body reminding him of the morning cold shower ritual he had begun recently. Hutch sighed and snuggled his face closer against Starsky’s neck, his warm breath tickling his ear.

Starsky’s lips ached to kiss Hutch, but his ‘shoulder angel’ tried to reason with him at the damnest times. He had no right physically responding to his straight partner like this. ‘Yeah, but you’re not really gay either are you?’ He asked himself. Truthfully, the thought of any man other than Hutch was a total turnoff. Still, he protested, what gave him the right to touch Hutch in a way that had nothing to do with friendship? He shifted in the bed wrapping Hutch more tightly in his arms. Love, his heart sang loudly, love gives you the right. No longer fighting his internal turmoil, Starsky’s lips gently settled on the mouth of the man he loved more than his own life.

 

Chapter Nine

Hutch knew it was impolite to stare but he couldn’t take his eyes off Pete’s head or to be more specific, the hair that was peeking from under the cap he wore.

“I put the ballistics report on your desk Hutch.” Pete Dragone, Papa Soreson’s new partner said with exaggerated nonchalance.

Hutch was sure it wasn’t green yesterday when he left the department to go home. Today though, Pete’s normally thick blonde hair was a bright lime green. “Pete…” He began, unsure how to broach the subject of the hair in question. He was interrupted by Starsky, who had just returned from the cafeteria with their lunch.

“What the heck happened to you hair, Pete?” Starsky asked.

So much for being subtle,” Hutch thought dryly.

Pete’s face flamed red. “I know, I know. It’s green.” He looked accusingly over at his partner’s desk where several seasoned detectives were trying hard not to laugh.

“What happened?” Hutch asked.

Dale Conner came over and placed his arm around Pete’s shoulder. “We were just having a little fun is all, you know, initiating Pete here into our little family.”

“That’s why he’s got green hair?” Starsky looked confused.

“Naw, that’s how he got green hair. The why is because of his name.” Dale snickered, then frowned as he realized the two detectives did not get the joke. “Come on guys!” He said with a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. “Pete Dragone. Dragon. Think of the movie, “Pete the Dragon” and let’s not forget the song…” He looked over at the other detectives who gleefully bellowed out their rendition of ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’

“We accidentally got a little carried away with the kool-aid mix we added to his shampoo in the locker room,” Dale confessed.

“Kool-aid?” Both Starsky and Hutch echoed. A puzzled _expression mirrored their faces.

“Yeah, remember when Papa’s daughter, Jenny once played a joke on her parents and they thought she dyed her hair purple?” At the detective’s nod Dale continued. “Well, Papa later told us she used grape kool-aid. It came out after a couple of hair washes. So we used it on Pete…But, I think we used a little to much lime kool-aid,” he added regretfully.

“I washed my hair all night,” Pete shrugged, looking dejected. “It’s lighter but still green. My fiancée, Kelly, is fit to be tied.” He glared at Dale. “She’s threatening to cancel the wedding if my hair stays green. If she does, you guys are dead meat.” “Aww…Puff, we meant no harm,” Dale teased. “It was a honest mistake.” Pete’s face fell at the hated nickname. “Come on guys!” He begged. “I’ve had to fight against that nickname my whole life.”

“Maybe you should go by your middle name instead of Pete,” Starsky suggested, trying to be helpful.

“I would have a long time ago. But, I was named after my grandfather. My mom was really close to her dad, he died in a car accident when she was eighteen. She told me she always wanted to name her baby after him if it was a boy. It would break her heart if I no longer wanted to be called ‘Pete’.” Pete shook his head sadly. “Of all the men in the world she could have married, she had to pick one who’s last name is ‘Dragone’.”

“I’m sure you guys will miss Sandy’s treats,” Papa said cheerfully as he walked up to the desk. He had been in Records and had just returned. He had overheard most of the end of the conversation.

“Come again?” Dale looked puzzled.

Papa stood by Pete. “Anyone here calls him ‘Puff’ and Sandy will no longer be bringing her deserts over… EVER,” he ended sternly, looking each detective in the eye. “I would spread the word if I were you,” he added.

All the detectives present immediately looked contrite and quickly promised that the dreaded name ‘Puff’ would never be uttered again.

Captain Dobey, who was standing in his doorway unobserved, overheard the entire conversation. “Now that’s settled, get back to work. Oh, and Dale? My office please,” he said crooking his finger at the detective.

“Uh, Captain, I can explain…” Dale hastily replied as he followed his captain in the office.

“Thanks, Papa.” Pete smiled graciously. “No problem, Pete. That’s what partners do, look out for one another,” Papa replied patting Pete on his back. Starsky and Hutch nodded in agreement.

“Hey, I almost forgot,” Pete said excitedly. “I put an invitation to the wedding in the locker room. I hope you guys can come. Kelly’s family lives here, but my family’s from Nebraska. Only my parents can come. It’s going to look pretty sad on the groom’s side of the pews.”

“Don’t worry, Pete. Hutch and I will be there,” Starsky said grinning, “that is, if you can get your hair color back.”

Papa interjected, “I stopped by Saint Mary’s and caught Jenny on her break. She said it’ll wash out in about a week, just keep washing it often. You got three weeks til the wedding, that’s plenty of time.”

Starsky looked dubious. “If not, he can always shave his head.”

The rest of the day went by pretty slow. With no new leads on the case, Starsky and Hutch spent most of the day reviewing all the information they had attained so far, hoping to find a lead that may have been overlooked. By the time their shift ended both men were weary from sitting so long and reading file after file with no additional leads forthcoming. Frustrated, they were more than eager to go home and unwind. Usually, they rode in to work together, but today they each drove their own cars because Starsky planned to get his oil changed after work. Hutch offered to go by the grocery store, pick up some steaks and start dinner. Agreeing to meet back at the apartment in a couple of hours, they went their separated ways.

 

Chapter Ten

Much to Starsky’s delight, an earlier appointment had cancelled so Merle wasn’t busy and Starsky was in and out in lee than a hour. Grinning, he pulled the Torino out of the garage and headed for Twelfth and Main. He checked his watch, he still had over a hour before he was suppose to meet Hutch. Just enough time to stop by the jewelry store and check on the watch he wanted to buy.

“Dave, Dave, my boy. Come in, come in,” Mr. Finney greeted Starsky enthusiastically. “Come by to see the watch again? Discount still applies for you, you know. For what you did for me there will always be a discount, my friend.”

Starsky smiled. Mr Finney was still determined to show his gratitude for the robbery arrest they made in his store. “That’s really nice of you, Mr Finney, but you don’t have to do that, we were just doing our jobs.”

“Stop it with the ‘Mr Finney’, call me Rupert, I insist.” He guided Starsky over to the watch counter. “Don’t belittle what you did, my boy. Everyday I get up to face another glorious day I am grateful that I still can. Because of you and your partner, my wife is not a widow. Let an old man show his appreciation for your bravery.”

Starsky nodded, knowing he would eventually lose the argument anyway. “Only this one time,” he conceded.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Rupert eagerly agreed. “Now here, here it is. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Starsky reached for the watch Rupert held out when he noticed an open jewelry box on the counter top. Nestled inside the soft black velvet were two of the most unusual rings he ad ever seen. Curious, the watch temporally forgotten, he fingered the intricate design on the bands.

“Ah, yes,” Rupert nodded approvingly. “They are quite unique, are they not?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them,” Starsky whispered, enthralled.

“Those, my boy, are called Irish Claddagh rings. An old custom from my homeland. My brother sent them to me, they arrived today. Eighteen karat white gold, I might add,” Rupert said proudly.

“Custom?”

“Yes, yes, see here?” Rupert picked up one of the rings and Starsky leaned in close to study the symbols that decorated the jewelry. Rupert continued. “The bands are hands holding a heart that wears a crown. There is a special meaning in the ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown, loyalty, and the heart, love.” He took Starsky’s left hand and slid the ring on his finger. “You wear it with the heart facing you…like this. It means you belong to someone.” He smiled, “What do you know, Davey, a perfect fit.”

As he looked at the ring on his finger one thought blazed in Starsky’s heart and burned it’s way to his very soul.

ME AND THEE.

“How much?” He asked. Though he knew it wouldn’t matter. He had to have them.

Mr. Finney’s eyes sparkled knowingly. He understood Detective Starsky’s fascination with the rings. “For you, Davey, same price as the watch.”

Starsky looked up from the counter. “No way, I know they cost a lot more.”

“Not that much more, my boy. And as you pointed out, just this once.”

Smiling and nodding in agreement, Starsky echoed, “Just this once.”

Both rings were the same size and if Mr. Finney thought it odd that Starsky stated he did not need the other ring resized, he made no comment. He did offer to engrave the rings for Starsky and told him they would be ready Monday. Several hundred dollars poorer, but happy, Starsky headed home.

 

Chapter Eleven

Friday evening, the day before their three days off, Hutch sat at his desk staring at the hospital robbery case files. They had combed the streets and went through countless files with a fine tooth comb, but, so far, they had nothing useful to go on. “We don’t have squat,” He muttered, disgusted.

“So what do we know, partner?” Starsky asked, coming from the coffee machine and handing Hutch a cup.

“Three hospitals attacked in eight weeks. All attacks occurring during hospital shift changes-days and evening shifts only. The suspects wear hospital issued housekeeping coveralls, Halloween masks, black boots. They know exactly where to hit, what time and how long. They’re in and out in less than ten minutes. They only steal the hard core meds-demerol, morphine and seconal. No one sees them enter or leave the hospital.”

“Inside job,” Starsky surmised. “Yeah, but from which department? We’ve covered doctors, nurses, housekeeping, secretaries, cafeteria personal-you name it.”

Frustrated, Hutch tossed the most recent file on the desk and picked up his coffee.

“They shot that nurse, but why? Starsky mused. “Reports say she wasn’t resisting, she cooperated fully, but she still was shot. That’s the only time they harmed someone. I got a feeling that if we can figure that out, we may get that break we need.”

Hutch had a theory building and he decided to throw it on the table. “What if…what if she recognized them?”

Starsky nodded in agreement. “Would make sense, they hadn’t harmed anyone before.”

“A lot of good that information does us. She probably knew a lot of people. Twenty-two years old, pretty and popular. Would be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Hutch said despairingly.

“Yeah, but it’s something we haven’t considered before. We could talk to her coworkers again, question her friends. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Starsky paused, shaking his head sadly. “It’s either that or we wait til they strike again and hope they screw up or we catch them in the act.”

Hutch stood up and grabbed his jacket. “We leave no stone unturned. I’ll be damned if we sit here on our ass and wait til they hit another hospital.” Starsky smiled and followed Hutch out the door.

“Now that’s my white knight talking!” He said, swatting his partner on the butt. Starsky’s stomach growled ominously as he slid under the wheel of the Torino. “Hey, while we’re grasping at straws, think we should swing by Huggy’s and see if he has anything for us?”

“Why not? Sounds like you could go for something to eat, too,” Hutch teased, hearing Starsky’s stomach protest his missed lunch.

“We could get it to go,” Starsky pouted.

“Naw, we can sit in. I’m kind of hungry myself,” Hutch admitted.

Fridays were busy at The Pits and today was no exception. With no booths available, Starsky and Hutch settled at the bar and ordered a couple of burgers and fries. By the time Huggy came over, they were almost finished eating.

“Place is jumping today, haven’t sat down since this morning,” Huggy said tiredly as he plopped down beside Starsky and snagged some fries. “What’s up?”

“Got anything for us, Hug?” Hutch asked leaning around Starsky.

“Nadda. Haven’t heard of no one trying to peddle morphine or demerol on the streets. The way I see it, Dude must be caring for his own habit. That or he’s only selling it off to close friends. Either way, nobody’s talking.”

“Thanks, Hug. Keep us posted, ok?” Starsky dropped some bills on the bar as they got up to leave.

“You got it bro,” Huggy replied, heading to a booth to wait on an irate customer. The Torino had just pulled away from the curb when the call came in. It was three-fifteen.

“All units, robbery in progress. Saint Mary’s Hospital. Repeat. Robbery in progress. Suspects are armed and considered dangerous. Saint Mary’s Hospital. Zebra Three please respond.”

Starsky hit the siren and whipped the Torino around in the street one hundred eighty degrees, while Hutch slapped the mars light on the roof and responded to the call. “Zebra Three en route eta ten minutes.” Hutch braced his hands and feet against the door and the floorboards as the Torino tore down the highway.

“All units be advised,” The radio blared. “Two suspects have left Saint Mary’s Hospital and are going northbound in a white and red ambulance. They are armed and have a hostage. I repeat…”

“This keeps getting better and better,” Hutch said sarcastically. Starsky didn’t reply. He had all his attention focused on safely and quickly maneuvering the Torino thru through the afternoon traffic.

“Starsk,” Hutch said tensely. “Check your nine o’clock.”

“I see ’em.”

A white and red ambulance was careening down the highway at breakneck speed, the back doors open, banging back and forth as the vehicle swerved around the traffic. Behind, two black and white cruisers were hot in pursuit. Starsky abruptly geared down and spun the Torino around. Tires squealing, he gunned the engine and headed after the ambulance. Unlike the ambulance, the Torino was built for speed. Add Starsky’s uncanny driving ability and the sports car quickly overcame the police cars to pull up behind the suspects. Hutch tried to get a look inside as the back doors waved in the wind.

“See anything?” Starsky asked tautly, trying to stay close behind the ambulance as it whipped in-between the heavy traffic.

“Duck,” Hutch replied quickly. Starsky risked a quick glance at Hutch.

“You see a duck?” He asked incredulously. Instead of replying, Hutch pushed Starsky’s shoulder hard, causing him to be shoved into the driver’s door. As Hutch hastily dived down into the seat, the front windshield shattered. Temporally losing control, Starsky spun out, the Torino skidding sideways and coming to rest on the side of the road. He watched the ambulance take the off ramp, the two patrol cars close behind. Soon they were out of sight. “Oh, no you don’t,” Starsky muttered as he righted the Torino and headed after them.

Hutch remained low in the seat, his head practically in Starsky’s lap as his stomach protested the car chase vehemently. He said shakily, “Not ‘duck’, DUCK…shotgun,” he added nodding toward the shattered glass.

“Next time just ‘shotgun’ will do…Are you planning on staying down there?” Starsky asked amused.

“Everything is spinning, I’m trying not to lose my cookies.”

“Not in my car!”

“It’s not your car that might get it,” Hutch replied, glaring pointedly at Starsky’s crotch.

Starsky risked taking one hand off the wheel long enough to shove Hutch’s head back toward his seat. Righting himself in his seat, Hutch held on for dear life and prepared for round two.

The Torino quickly crested the top of the ramp, but the ambulance was nowhere in sight. Hutch picked up the mike and phoned in their location. Starsky slowed down as he approached stopped traffic due to a multi-vehicle accident up ahead. He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand as he recognized the two patrol cars and the ambulance among the wreckage. Hutch, still on the mike, reported the accident and requested ambulances and back-up. As they prepared to get out of the car the radio crackled. They both recognized the tearful voice of the dispatcher.

“H-H-Hutch?” Sandy Sorenson’s voice was barely a whisper.

Hutch looked at Starsky as he picked up the mike. “It’s Hutch, Sandy. What’s wrong?”

“They found out the name of the hostage. . .it’s Jenny. . .they got my baby.” Sandy’s voice shook as she begged, “P-P-Please. . . Please. . .don’t let them hurt her.” Grief stricken, she broke down, unable to go on.

Another voice came over the mike, this one they knew as well. “Sorry guys, we just found out.”

“Papa know?” Hutch asked softly

“Yes, he and Pete just left, heading your way.”

Hutch dropped the mike on the seat. They looked at each other for a moment, their eyes cold and hard. No words needed to be said. They knew what they had to do. Shutting the car doors, they left the Torino on the side of the road and moved toward the wreckage.

The two patrolmen were among the disabled vehicles, one resting beside the car, his head bleeding from a small gash over his left eye. The other cop was on the mike requesting paramedics and back up.

Hutch pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to the injured cop. “Were you able to check the ambulance?” He asked.

“Didn’t have to. Saw them get out and head to that building over there.” He pointed to a large warehouse.

His partner limped over. “Help’s on the way,” he said.

“Did they have the hostage with them?” Starsky asked, gazing at the warehouse intensely.

“Yeah, a girl.”

“You guys ok to handle this until help comes?” Hutch nodded toward the growing crowd.

“Yeah, we’re banged up a bit but ok.” He eyed the detectives. “You know you guys should wait for backup,” he warned, knowing they would not take his advice.

Neither detective answered as they unholstered their weapons and headed across the field to the warehouse.

 

Chapter Twelve

When Starsky and Hutch exited the field and approached the parking lot, they heard voices coming from a group of parked cars near the end of the warehouse. As they got closer, they realized the suspects were trying to hot wire a Camaro, but hearing the raised angry retorts the men were saying to each other gave the detectives the impression they were having some difficulty accomplishing their goal.

Other than the suspects and Jenny, Starsky noted the parking lot was deserted; he hoped it would remain that way. In the distance he could hear a multitude of sirens, Starsky brightened, the cavalry was on the way.

Hutch watched the scene beside the Camaro intently. The suspects were not able to get the car started, frustrated, they began waving their guns back and forth, loudly blaming each other for their predicament. The more agitated they became, the more Jenny’s cries and pleas to be released intensified. Terrified, the girl cowered on the ground by the car, her hands covering her ears.

The suspects would soon be cornered and Hutch knew then the violence would escalate, putting Jenny in even more danger. They had to act quickly. “Two minutes,” he said sharply and Starsky nodded. Their eyes met briefly, affirming their plan of action, and in silent agreement they split off – Starsky moving to the right, and Hutch to the left of the group of cars surrounding the gunmen.

Starsky glanced at his watch and crouched low as he peeped around a truck to check Hutch’s position. His partner was inching as close to Jenny as possible while Starsky prepared to distract the suspects. Rising up, but remaining mostly protected by the truck, Starsky shouted, “Police, freeze! Drop your weapons!”

Immediately the suspects fired their guns in his direction. The taller one quickly bent down and grabbed Jenny, pulling her close to his body, using her as a human shield.

Jenny screamed and threw her weight to the side trying to jerk away from the man who held her. Suddenly, a staccato burst of gunfire came from beside her and the arm around her throat went slack. Then from nowhere, a blonde man appeared and urged tensely, “Jenny, quick, give me your hand.”

He called me ‘Jenny,’ her numb mind tried to digest as she ran with the tall man toward a parked bright blue Caddy. Once safely behind the large car she risked a glance as her savior. Shakily, she reached out and touched his arm as he reloaded his weapon. “Hutch?” Recognition dawned, she knew him, he worked with her father.

Hutch quickly reloaded his gun and shot at the remaining gunman who had Starsky pinned behind him, the sounds of sirens became deafening as an army of police cars moved rapidly through the field toward the parking lot.

The lone gunman looked over to the ground where his fallen comrade lay. Panicking, he knew he was surrounded by cops. Desperate to escape, he leaped up from behind the Camaro and fired quickly at both cops.

Jenny screamed as a bullet dislodged the side mirror on the Caddy and hit Hutch in the face. He fell hard, his gun dropping out of his hand and skidding under the car. Hutch moaned and rolled on the ground temporarily disoriented by the blow.

Starsky knew by Jenny’s screams something had gone wrong and he worriedly called out to his partner as he fired off several rounds to keep the gunman pinned behind the Camaro. But without Hutch’s gunfire, the man was able to move through the cars toward Hutch and Jenny despite Starsky’s attempts to keep him away from his partner. Down to his last bullet, Starsky was forced to back off.

Jenny turned to the sounds of the approaching sirens. The first car to reach them stopped less than one hundred feet away. The doors opened and her father quickly rolled out the car. He shielded himself behind the open car door, his gun drawn, prepared to fire. All Jenny thought of was getting to her father. Abandoning the safety of the car, she stood up screaming, “Papa, Papa!”

Hutch, still on the ground, weakly reached out for Jenny, trying to stop her, but she twisted away from his feeble grasp and ran blindly towards her dad.

“No Jenny! Stay down, get down!” Papa yelled. She was in his line of fire, he couldn’t shoot the gunman without risking hitting Jenny. From the passenger side of the police car, the parked cars sheltered the gunman preventing Pete from having a clear shot, but he fired off several rounds anyway, hoping to force the man to seek shelter.

The gunman brought his weapon up, aimed and shot at the girl the same time Starsky carefully aimed and fired his last bullet. Starsky’s aim was true and the man slowly crumbled to the ground. But, sadly, the gunman’s aim was also accurate and his bullet slammed into Jenny’s back propelling her forward to fall at her father’s feet. Papa’s tortured screams echoed throughout the field and the parking lot.

At once, cops were everywhere. They gathered around Papa and the fallen gunman. An ambulance pulled ap and paramedics quickly moved to the injured girl.

Starsky rushed to Hutch, who was swaying on his feet and holding his head. “Hey buddy, you ok?” Worried, he pulled at Hutch’s hand to inspect the small gash on his forehead. Hutch gently pushed Starsky’s hand away. “Yeah, I’m ok, just winded.” Hutch paled as he saw Papa on the ground holding Jenny tightly, refusing to give her over to the paramedics. “Ah no, not Jenny.” Sky blue eyes full of anguish turned to Starsky. “I tried Starsk. . . .I-I tried to stop her.”

“I know buddy. She was scared out of her mind. She just wanted to get to her daddy. It’s not your fault. Gently, he rubbed Hutch’s back, but Starsky’s words offered little comfort to his guilt stricken partner.

 

Chapter Thirteen

Back at Parker Center, Starsky and Hutch finished their reports as they awaited news from captain Dobey on Jenny’s condition. When they last called the hospital two hours ago, she was still in surgery. The room, usually filled with boisterous noises, was eerily subdued as each detective present worried over the fate of their colleague’s daughter. A bullet to the back was very serious and she had been in surgery a long time.

An hour later Captain Dobey wearily entered the department. Bone tired, his troubled eyes offered little comfort to the detectives silent inquiry on Jenny’s condition. Sighing deeply, he offered up what meager information he obtained from the hospital. “She made it out of surgery, but she’d not out of the woods yet.” He say down in an empty chair, “She hasn’t regained consciousness and the doctors won’t know if she’s paralyzed until she wakes up.”

“Shit,” Starsky muttered.

Hutch, eyes downcast, remained silent.

Dobey looked up at Starsky and Hutch. “So who were those guys?”

Sensing Hutch was in no mood to talk, Starsky relayed what they knew about the dead gunmen to their Captain.

“They were paramedics – Billy Goins and Yuri Nash. They transported a man who had been complaining of chest pains from the nursing home to the hospital. After dropping him off, they remained in the hospital, changed into their usual robbery attire, headed down to the recovery room and robbed the med cabinet when the nurses were counting the drugs at shift change. After, they must have returned to where they stashed the stretcher, hid the masks and drugs, changed back into their uniforms, and disposed of the clothes in a laundry bin in one of the locker rooms, as best as we can tell. Back in normal uniforms, they headed to the emergency room to make their exit. People knew them and of course it wasn’t odd to see them in different areas of the hospital. So, no one gave them a second glance as security searched the hospital for the suspects while they waiting for the police to arrive. They planned to exit through the ER, but that’s where the plan went to shit,” Starsky paused for a minute, catching his breath.

Hutch remained quiet, content to let Starsky finish the story. “Anyway,” Starsky continued. “As they entered the ER, a man, brought in for a knife wound and flying high on PCP, went nuts. He managed to get out of his restraints, started tearing up the place and attacking people. He got a hold of the stretcher Goins and Nash were returning to the ambulance and tried to tear it apart. Two Halloween masks and vials of morphine and demerol flew all over the floor from a hiding place inside the mattress of the stretcher. All hell broke loose then. The suspects were able to get away because the nutcase was still acting up in there, but now everyone knew what they did. The rest you know,” Starsky finished. He looked at Dobey. “So far, we don’t know much about Goins or Nash and with both of them dead, we may never get all the answers.

“Any motive?” Dobey asked hopefully.

“Maybe. A few people who worked with Nash said he was a heavy gambler and Goins hinted at using drugs to his girlfriend. We did a through search of their apartments and found a couple of vials of morphine and around six hundred dollars in cash, but not much else.” Starsky shrugged, “That’s about all we got for now.”

Dobey eyed the two detectives closely. “Ok, let it go for now,” he decided. “Leave your reports on my desk. It’s late and you both look like hell. Go on, get out of here. Conner and Sandler can tie up the loose ends.”

Hutch spoke for the first time. “Captain…will you let us know if there’s any change with Jenny?”

“When I know, you’ll know.” Dobey promised. “I know you want to go over there, but the hospital has been swamped with cops all evening and Papa and Sandy are barely holding it together. There’s nothing we can do now but wait,” he ended gently.

“Thanks, Cap,” Starsky replied. He grabbed his jacket and followed his too quiet partner out the door.

Standing by Hutch’s car, the Torino having been towed earlier to Merles, Starsky hesitated getting in. He was dead tired but his adrenaline was still running high. Edgy and troubled, he knew he would be unable to rest; the days horrific events playing over and over in his head. Glancing at Hutch he knew his best friend was in an even worst way. They needed to go somewhere and unwind, and he knew just the place.

“I’m so damn tired, but right now I just want to go to Huggy’s and get shitfaced,” Starsky said dispiritedly.

Hutch nodded sadly. “I’m with you, buddy.”

 

Chapter Fourteen

Huggy parked Hutch’s car in front of Starsky’s apartment. Looking over his shoulder, he watched his wasted friends trying unsuccessfully to climb out of the back of the car. “Works better if you go one at a time,” he said dourly. Shaking his head, he got out and herded the two detectives toward the front door.

“Thanks Hug,” Starsky hiccupped, than belched loudly. “Do we need to give ya a ride home?”

“Starsky, I brought you guys home, remember?”

“Oh yeah, right. Forgot.”

Huggy took the keys from Hutch, who couldn’t seem to hold his hand steady enough to put it in the lock. Huggy opened the door and gently pushed his friends inside. “Home sweet home,” he said. “You two gonna be ok?” He heard a car horn out the door. Anita waved at him to come on. “I gotta go, my ride’s calling.”

Starsky and Hutch grinned at him. “We’re fine, Hug. Feeling no pain,” they said in unison. Sobering some, Hutch added, “Thanks for everything, Hug.”

“No problemo, mi amigos. I’ll call ya manana.” Huggy closed the door behind him on his way out.

“Ok,” Starsky frowned, “Now who’s gonna steer us to the bed room?”

Arms around each other’s waist for support, they managed to maneuver around the furniture in the den without causing too much damage. Flopping on the bed, Starsky moaned, “I’m gonna really regret getting this wasted in the morning.”

Hutch stood by the bed feeling slightly panicked at the wave of despair that threatened to consume him. He thought about Papa and Sandy. They were such a loving couple. They didn’t deserve to be put through this. He had hoped to get drunk enough to forget seeing the tears fall down fall down Papa’s face as he held his daughter in his arms and begged her not to die. It invoked too many painful memories. ‘Too late,’ his mind accused him, ‘Again, you were too late.’

“Oh God, I tried,” he moaned aloud, his voice filled with pain. He looked down at Starsky. He appeared to be almost asleep. Hutch staggered over to Starsky’s side of the bed and leaned over him. “Hey, you sleep?” He blurted, louder than he intended.

“Yep,” came the mumbled reply.

“Starsk?”

One bleary bloodshot blue eye peered up at him from under the arm that was slung over Starsky’s face. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to sleep on my side of the bed tonight. . . would you. . . could you just hold me?” He stammered ,praying Starsky was too drunk to think the request odd.

If he thought it odd, Starsky said nothing. He only held out his arm in an invitation for Hutch to join him.

Fully clothed, both men laid on the bed holding each other. Hutch nuzzled his face on Starsky’s shoulder, immediately feeling better. As he relaxed, sleep quickly began to claim him, but he roused himself enough to ask his friend a favor.

“Starsk?”

“Go to sleep, Hutch,” was the sleepy reply.

” ‘Kay. . . just wanted to remind you not to forget my kiss in the morning,” he said sleepily.

“Huh?” Starsky blinked trying to clear his fuzzy head. Did Hutch just ask him to kiss him?

“My morning kiss, Gordo.” Hutch’s voice was barely a whisper now as sleep claimed him. “Don’t forget, ‘kay?”

“Hutch. . . .you know. . . Hutch?” Wide awake and much more sober than he’d been fifteen minutes ago, Starsky tried to rouse his partner. “Hutch?” He shook Hutch several times, but he was out cold.

For a long time Starsky sat on the side of the bed and watched his love sleep. There was no way he would get any sleep tonight, no matter how much alcohol he had earlier consumed. Hutch knew. His stomach reacted violently to the gut – wrenching panic that worked over him, with his hand over his mouth, he fled, barely making it to the bathroom.

 

Chapter Fifteen

Hutch moaned as he pushed the pillow off his face. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, announcing another sunshiny day. “Is it too much to ask for one overcast rainy day?” He mumbled. He hauled his tired ass out of the bed to relieve his screaming bladder. Emerging from the bathroom, he peered thru puffy eyes and squinted against the light in the room. His head was killing him. He needed to go in the kitchen and get some aspirin, but all he could manage to do was flop back on the bed. He tried to fall back to sleep, but his mind kept wandering back to the events of last night. He had been to wasted to remember everything coherently, but one thing stood out loud and clear.

“Shit,” he muttered, remembering most of his bedtime conversation with Starsky. Starsky wasn’t in the bed, so that meant he had either gotten up early, which mostly likely did not happen, or he had spent all night on the couch analyzing last night’s drunken conversation. Hutch sighed, this wasn’t the way he had planned to start their weekend off.

Over the past few months he had been receiving mixed signals from Starsky. Only in the last couple of weeks did he began to have hope that his suspicions were true, that Starsky was in love with him.

In spite of his raging headache, Hutch practically melted when he thought of the kiss they shared the other night. The lingering doubts he had disappeared once those soft lips tenderly touched his. It had taken all the strength he possessed not to pull Starsky in his arms, profess his undying love, kiss him senseless, then nail him to the bed. Instead, he continued to pretend he was asleep, as he had every night Starsky held and caressed him lovingly.

They were off for the weekend and Hutch had planned to take Starsky to his favorite restaurant. Later, they would go for a romantic moonlight stroll on the beach where he would finally tell his best friend he was in love with him. Hutch frowned. There was no way in hell he was going to ruin the most important night of his life just because he got shit-faced and got a bad case of verbal vomit. ‘Time for damage control,’ he thought as he slowly eased out of the bed and headed to the den.

Just as he suspected, he found Starsky awake and sitting on the couch. He looked hung-over and worn out; it was apparent he hadn’t slept the entire night.

“Hey, buddy, been up long?” Hutch figured the best way to deal with the problem was to pretend he was so smashed last night he didn’t remember much of anything. Besides, it was the best idea he could come up with in such a short notice.

Worried blue eyes met his as Starsky searched his face for any sign of anger or disgust. “Never really got much sleep,” he admitted quietly, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.

“You look like I feel,” Hutch teased, going to the kitchen for some aspirin.

Starsky remained quiet, unsure how to bring up last night’s conversation.

“Hey, who brought us home?” Hutch put on his best ‘poker face’, looking, he hoped, convincingly confused.

“You don’t remember?” Starsky stammered.

“I was so trashed, I can’t remember shit after I laid my head down in the bowl of peanuts on the bar.” He smiled affectionately at his friend. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to fill me in on how many times I made an ass of myself.”

He doesn’t remember, Starsky realized, momentarily shocked. Relieved beyond belief, he quickly reined in his overactive emotions and feigned indifference. He shrugged and replied, “Naw, nothing exciting happened. Huggy brought us home and we put your sorry ass to bed. I ended up in the bathroom most of the night praying to the porcelain god while he reminded me why I don’t like to get drunk.” Starsky winced inwardly, ‘that part at least was true’, he thought.

“You ok? Need some Pepto?” Hutch asked, rummaging through the cabinet.

“Took some earlier. Man, I’m worn out. I’m gonna grab a shower and lay down for a bit.” Starsky stood up and headed for the bathroom.

“Ok, I’ll throw together a late lunch,” Hutch offered.

“Do me a favor,” Starsky begged. “Don’t mention food.”

Hutch watched Starsky until he went into the bathroom and shut the door. He wanted to tell him so badly how he really felt, but he absolutely refused to proclaim his undying love to the most important person in his life hung over and smelling like a brewery. Starsky deserved better than that. ‘I’ve waited this long,’ he thought, ‘I can wait til tonight.’

But, it would be Sunday before Hutch would have a chance to plan his romantic escapade. Starsky’s stomach kept both men in and out of the bathroom the entire day. By that night both partners were exhausted, neither interested in anything more exciting than uninterrupted sleep.

 

Chapter Sixteen

Hutch awoke to the sound of the radio. He yawned and stretched his long limbs lazily while he pondered just how much longer he could lay in the bed before his bladder would seriously start to object. Giving in to his basic needs, he roused himself from the bed and went to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, face washed and teeth brushed, he emerged feeling somewhat more awake. He went to the kitchen where he figured he would find his partner.

Sure enough, Starsky was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bologna and egg sandwich and drinking coffee while he was reading the morning paper. Not looking up he said, “Dobey called. Jenny’s still unconscious, but she’s off the critical list.”

“That’s good to hear, buddy.” Hutch smiled, cheered by the small progress.

“Coffee’s fresh, want me to fix ya something?”

Not feeling very hungry, Hutch declined. “Naw, coffee’s ok for now.” He poured himself a cup, adding sugar. “You really should avoid greasy foods today after last night,” he disapproved, looking pointedly at the sandwich Starsky was eating.

“I’m feeling better. Ya know, old cast iron stomach.” Starsky patted his abdomen for emphasis.

“Remind me again who was moaning over the toilet all night?” Hutch replied dryly.

“Hey, that was all that alcohol we consumed. Now food, on the other hand, I can handle.” Starsky laid the paper aside. Finishing up his sandwich, he put his plate and cup in the sink.

Hutch secretly watched his friend as he moved around the room with ease. He thought how far Starsky had come since the shooting. Pushing away those thoughts for fear he would dredge up painful memories, he walked over to the counter and picked up an apple. Deciding to have a little fun, he leaned against the counter and assumed what he hoped was an irresistibly sexy pose. “Hey,” he said, mainly to get his friend’s attention, “Thanks for picking up some fruit.”

Hutch took a bite of his apple, his tongue darting out to catch the juice in the corner of his mouth. He took another bite, chewed, then slowly ran his tongue over his lips. “Juicy apple,” he said, “It’s good, wanna bite?”

Starsky watched mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off of Hutch’s mouth. “Huh?” Was all he was able to manage to squeak out.

Hutch held out the apple to Starsky. “Apple. Want some?” He repeated.

Starsky tore his eyes from Hutch’s lips and eyed the apple. The thought of placing his lips where is partner’s sweet mouth had just been sent his libido into overdrive. Blushing furiously, he abruptly left the kitchen table, managing to stammer out a quick “Uh. . .I. . I. . . need to . . .um,” he pointed to the bathroom.

Hutch feigned concern. “Stomach again?” He knew what the real problem was.

“Uh Huh,” Starsky fled to the safety of the bathroom.

He missed seeing the evil grin spreading across Hutch’s face at his rapid departure.

Starsky leaned over the sink and cupped his hands under the faucet. The cold water he splashed on his face did little to ease his physical ache for his best friend.

‘He was only eating an apple for Christ’s sake, get a grip,’ he scolded himself.

He turned the water off, dried his face, and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Feeling somewhat more in control, he returned to the kitchen. He found Hutch leaning on the counter top near the sink.

Hutch turned around when he heard Starsky approach. “Stomach any better? He asked.

Jaw slack, Starsky just stared, unable to respond at all.

Hutch was holding a banana in his hand. Slowly, his long fingers pulled down the peeling.

Starsky bolted from the room. Hutch smiled wickedly as he leisurely bit into the fruit.

Back in the bathroom, drying his face off for the second time, Starsky looked at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m pathetic,” he mused. “Completely and utterly pathetic.” He hung his head in shame.

 

Chapter Seventeen

They packed some snacks and drinks and decided to spend the afternoon at the park. Hutch took his guitar and Starsky brought his basketball along in case they felt like going a few rounds. It was a beautiful day and the park was filled with more people than usual. Starsky and Hutch had a wonderful time just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. They even got together with a group of guys and played a friendly game of ball. Four hours later they headed home, tired but happy and content.

After checking on Jenny’s condition, Hutch suggested they eat dinner at Starsky’s favorite Italian restaurant. Surprised, Starsky quickly agreed to the idea before Hutch changed his mind. Hutch, his heart melting at seeing his love so happy, graciously offered Starsky first dibs for the shower. Sensing something was up, but not sure what, Starsky took Hutch up on his offer, grabbed his robe and headed to the bathroom.

While he waited for his turn to shower, Hutch paced back and forth in the den rehearsing what he would say to Starsky later that night. After a while, he realized all he’d managed to do was make himself more nervous, so he turned on the radio and tried to relax. By the time Starsky emerged from the bathroom, Hutch had worked himself into a nervous frenzy. Avoiding Starsky, he quickly entered the bathroom so not to arouse his partner’s suspicions at his odd behavior.

Starsky toweled his hair dry and put on his jeans. One of his favorite songs was playing on the radio and he danced into the den and turned the volume up. He wiggled and gyrated his way in the kitchen and grabbed the mop that rested behind the door. Twirling the mop around and stroking the mop head’s yarn ‘hair’, he sang along with the radio, oblivious to his audience watching by the bedroom door.

In his rush to escape to the bathroom, Hutch forgot to grab his bathrobe and had returned, unnoticed by Starsky, to retrieve it. He caught a glimpse of his partner dancing in the den with his ‘date’ and he abandoned the search for his robe to lean against the bedroom door and enjoy the view. When he thought of all the different ways he dreamed about telling Starsky how he felt, Hutch was surprised to discover that when the fantasy, by some miracle became a reality, he now chose to forgo waiting for that perfect soap opera moment. He watched Starsky dance around the room with his mop ‘date’, somehow managing to look both sexy and totally ridiculous at the same time. Here and now he realized that anywhere he was, as long as Starsky was by his side, was perfect. Decision made, he moved away from the door and ambled over to Starsky. Crossing his arms over his chest and putting a stern look on his face, he coughed and said, “Ahem!”

Caught off guard, Starsky froze, startled to suddenly find Hutch so near him.

Hutch frowned. “First you break your promise, than I catch you half dressed with someone else.”

“Wha…?” Starsky’s mouth opened and closed, but he was so rattled he couldn’t form one coherent sentence.

“I have to warn you, Starsky, I’m a very possessive lover. I hold what’s mine.” Hutch tried to look indignant as he moved closer to his stunned friend and gently removed the mop from his slack grasp. “No more tete-a-tete’s in the kitchen?” He raised one eyebrow and held up the mop for emphasis, then tossed it in the corner of the room.

“Huh?” Starsky continued to stare at Hutch. For once he was at a loss for words.

Hutch moved closer, but he did not touch Starsky, not yet. “Just because you’re standing here nearly naked, looking good enough to eat and my little lust filled mind is all a tither with shameful thoughts, doesn’t mean you get to have your way with me,” Hutch wiggled a finger at him. “This is a partnership, Gordo. I expect you to keep your promise. Now, give me my kiss.”

His face flushed and sapphire eyes wide with disbelief, Starsky squeaked out, “Kiss?”

Hutch gazed in Starsky’s eyes for a minute, his teasing frown slowly disappearing when he looked upon the man who was his entire world. How do you tell someone that they are your universe? Hutch didn’t think a lifetime would be long enough to describe his feelings for this man. But, as he looked at his love, he realized his _expression must have said volumes, because Starsky was smiling and he had the sweetest lovesick look on his face. He wanted Starsky, bad. If it was a sin to love another man than he was damned, for his heart would never accept another. Unable to resist, he gently eased his hand in Starsky’s chocolate curls, smiled and said simply, “I love you, Starsk.”

Hutch lowered his head slowly, letting Starsky know his intent…giving him time to back away. But, Starsky only leaned into the embrace, tilting his head up, eager to receive their first real kiss. His mouth closed over Starsky’s, tentative at first, then growing bolder when he met no resistance. Feeling Starsky respond to the kiss, Hutch closed his eyes and drew Starsky closer in his arms. His fingers caressed the soft curls as his tongue delved deeper, craving the sweet taste of his love.

Starsky shivered in his arms, releasing the softest of moans, small hungry sounds that inflamed Hutch. His own whimpers of pleasure escalated in volume as fire burned in his belly and spread low in his groin, threatening to consume him. Reluctantly, he pulled back and tucked Starsky’s head beneath his chin. Hutch exhaled sharply, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving as he desperately fought for control.

They stayed that way for several minutes, until Starsky pulled away just enough to blink hazily up at him. Looking extremely pleased with himself, he smugly insisted, “Pretty awesome, huh?”

Hutch looked puzzled for a minute, unsure what Starsky was hinting at. Then realization dawned as he remembered a time long ago when he had accused Starsky of not being a good kisser. Chuckling, he nuzzled Starsky’s neck and conceded, “Ah, babe…I had no idea.”

Starsky smiled, pulling away again to look at him. “I love you too, Hutch. I’ve loved you for the longest time,” he said softly.

Hutch gazed deeply in Starsky’s sapphire eyes, the humor fading from his voice when he saw the love reflected there. “Babe…” He tried to speak, but words failed him, so instead he gathered Starsky close to his heart. Shyly, he whispered enticingly against Starsky’s ear his deepest desire. “Make love to me, David.”

For several minutes Starsky didn’t move. He remained very still in Hutch’s embrace trying to grasp the barge of emotions assaulting him at Hutch’s tender request. Love, happiness, excitement, nervousness, and fear filled his mind. But, most of all, desire so painful it burned through his body and soul. Decision made, he pulled away from Hutch and without a word walked across the room. He stopped just inside the bedroom door, paused and turned to look at Hutch.

Silently, he extended his hand.

Joyously, Hutch moved across the room to join his lover.

Later…

Near dawn, Starsky raised himself up off his pillow and bent his head to kiss Hutch’s bare shoulder. “You ok?” He asked tenderly.

“Mmmm”

Starsky smiled at the sated reply as he trailed kisses down Hutch’s back.

Hutch rolled over, slowly opened tired eyes and grinned at Starsky. “You gonna let me get any sleep?”

“Probably not.”

“Good.”

They laid gazing at one another for a while without saying anything, some things not needing to be said. Later, they would talk, but now only one question was asked. “Forever?” Hutch whispered softly.

“No where near long enough, Blondie,” Starsky replied lowering his mouth to his lover’s lips.

Chapter Eighteen

Hutch emerged from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He looked up to see Starsky studying him intently. “What are you doing?” Hutch whispered, blushing at the intense look of desire on Starsky’s face.

“Just looking. God, you’re beautiful, Hutch,” Starsky replied thickly, his eyes heavy lidded with passion as he openly admired Hutch’s chest. “Can I touch you?”

Hutch’s face flamed red. “After last night and this morning, you have to ask?”

Walking over to Hutch, Starsky smiled, looking pleased with himself. Last night’s loving had been sheer nirvana.

Embarrassed, but aroused beyond belief, Hutch said nervously, “Not much to look at.”

Starsky’s hands lightly traveled up Hutch’s smooth, firm chest to rest gently on his hardening nipples. “I disagree,” he said, his voice horse. He leaned forward and captured Hutch’s lips with his own.

Breaking the kiss, Hutch reminded his lover they had plans for the day. “Merles,” he said regretfully.

“Uh huh.” Starsky nuzzled Hutch’s neck.

“He’s waiting for us to pick up your car.”

“Yep.” Starsky nibbled on Hutch’s ear.

“We’re already late.” Hutch moaned, weakening under Starsky’s advances.

“Your fault.” Starsky’s hands were busy stroking Hutch’s back as he trailed kisses down his neck and chest.

“How’s it my fault?”

“You’re too damn delicious.” Starsky dropped to his knees and removed Hutch’s towel.

“Merle’s going to kill us,” Hutch said huskily, giving in to Starsky’s tender assault.

Later……….

Hutch yawned again and shifted slightly in the seat of his car as he pulled into Merle’s autobody shop. He risked a glance over at Starsky, hoping is partner hadn’t seen the motion. But, Starsky suddenly smiled and looked at Hutch knowingly.

“Not a word, Starsk,” Hutch warned, blushing.

“What? I didn’t say anything.” Starsky innocently replied.

Any further conversation ended when Merle approached the car. He was scowling and pointing repeatedly at the watch on his wrist.

“Uh oh. Merle’s not looking happy.” Hutch pointed out.

“I’ll handle Merle.” Starsky got out of the car, shut the door, then poked his head through the opened window. “Meet me at The Pits? I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Hutch teased. “Want me to order for you?”

“Yeah. See ya later, schweetheart.”

Starsky retrieved the Torino, stopped at Finney’s to pick up the rings, then headed to The Pits to meet Hutch.

Hutch entered The Pits, waved at Huggy and sat in a booth in the back of the bar. Huggy walked over carrying two beers. “Hey, Hutch. Starsky coming?” Huggy held up the extra beer.

“Yeah, he should be here soon,” Hutch replied.

Anita came over and Hutch ordered for himself and Starsky. She grinned at Hutch. “My, my. I need to meet the woman who put that look on your face,” she teased.

“What look?” Hutch asked, perplexed.

Anita patted his cheek. “You’re positively glowing.” She laughed and left to place his order.

Hutch blushed, picked up his beer and took a large swallow. When he put the mug back on the table, he noticed Huggy looking at him strangely. “What?”

Huggy was trying not to stare, but he couldn’t help noticing Anita was right. Hutch was…glowing. “I don’t know, man. You look…”

“I look what?” Hutch looked down at himself, unable to figure out what Huggy was talking about.

“You’re glowing.”

“I’M WHAT?!”

“Glowing…you know, like when you see pregnant women…they glow.”

“I’m not pregnant, Hug,” Hutch said irritated.

“I know that,” Huggy soothed. “Just forget it, ok? I didn’t mean nothing by it” He snuck another look at Hutch.

Starsky came up behind Huggy and slid in the booth beside Hutch. “Hey, Hug,” he said, picking up Hutch’s beer. “What’s up?”

“Hey! Here’s your beer, leave mine alone,” Hutch grumbled.

“Your’s taste better.” Starsky winked at his lover. Hutch blushed.

“Hey, Starsky.” Huggy replied to Starsky’s earlier greeting. He had been watching the two detectives playful ribbing with interest. Something about their behavior, although normal for them, was nagging at him. “I was just teasing…” Huggy’s voice faltered. He stared hard at Starsky, then at Hutch.

“What?” Starsky asked, puzzled at Huggy’s odd behavior.

“You two…” Huggy blinked and looked at the partners with disbelief. “You two are getting it on!” He whispered loudly.

“Hey! Keep your voice down,” Starsky scolded.

Hutch stammered, “Hug…w-what are you t-talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Hutch. I KNOW you, both of you.” Hurt, Huggy added softly, “Don’t you trust me?”

Blue eyes met briefly, then both men nodded in agreement. Starsky looked fondly at Huggy. “Yeah, Hug, we trust ya.” He smiled, “What gave us away?”

Huggy shrugged. “Like I said before, I know you.” Teasing a little, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s not that obvious.”

“You ok with it, Hug?” Hutch asked.

“Hey, I’m more than ok with it.” He grinned. “It’s not like any woman could ever separate you two anyway. For the best, if you ask me.”

“Thanks, Hug.” Hutch was relieved that Huggy approved of the relationship. He may not express it often, but Huggy was a good friend, his opinion mattered a lot to them.

Anita brought the food over and refreshed their drinks. When she left, Huggy asked, “So…you gonna fill me in?”

“How much you wanna know?” Starsky teased.

“Not that much,” Huggy blanched.

Laughing, Starsky and Hutch recounted the past few days while eating their dinner.

 

Chapter Nineteen

Papa sat in the uncomfortable chair beside Jenny’s hospital bed watching his daughter closely for any signs of conscious. His wife, Sandy, was sleeping on the cot in the corner of the room. He was so tired, having hardly slept since the shooting. It had taken a sleeping aid to finally get Sandy to lay down.

Everyone in the department had been so helpful. Their other children were staying with Dale Conner and his family. Captain Dobey kept the station updated on Jenny’s condition, thereby keeping Papa and Sandy form being overwhelmed with visitors.

Papa looked around the hospital room. It was filled with cards, stuffed animals and flowers. So much support, it meant a lot to him, made him feel less alone in the too quiet room. He was so tired, he rubbed his eyes and closed them. ‘I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute,’ was his last coherent thought.

Papa woke to feeling a tug on his hair. Disorientated, he lifted his head off the edge of the bed expecting to see Sandy at his side, but she was still asleep on the cot. Who pulled his hair? He looked around for the nurse, but except for Sandy and Jenny, the room was empty.

Jenny. He looked at his daughter and was startled to see her looking at him. She opened her mouth, winced in pain and tried to speak.

“Jenny?” Papa whispered, scared he was still dreaming.

Jenny looked at he father. “Papa?” Her weak voice was barely a whisper. Papa smiled, tears blurring his vision. “Hey, pumpkin,” he said softly. Jenny smiled weakly, then frowned.

“What’s wrong, Jenny?” Papa asked, alarmed.

Jenny grimaced, “Papa…my feet itch.”

“You’re feet?” Papa looked at the end of the bed. The covers over her feet moved. Jenny was wiggling her toes. Papa’s gaze returned to his daughter’s face. “You’re feet itch?” He repeated, smiling.

Jenny slowly nodded, confused at her father’s strange behavior.

Papa threw his head back and laughed loudly, waking his wife. Sandy sat up quickly and stared at her husband. “What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked worriedly.

Papa went to his wife and gathered her in his arms. “Our daughter’s feet itch,” he said, grinning.

“Jenny?” Bewildered, Sandy looked at the hospital bed and saw their daughter watching them. “Oh my God, JENNY!” Sandy rushed to her daughter’s side while her husband went to find the doctor.

 

Chapter Twenty

Starsky and Hutch finished their dinner and Huggy went back to work the bar. Starsky was enjoying a piece of sweet potato pie. Hutch snagged a bite from Starsky’s fork. “Hey! You said you didn’t want any,” Starsky groused.

Hutch grinned. “Changed my mind.”

“I’m glad Huggy knows, it’ll be nice not to have to pretend around out friends,” Starsky mused.

“Starsk…do I look different?” Hutch asked warily.

“Waddya mean?”

Hutch recounted the earlier conversation with Huggy and Anita before Starsky joined him in the bar.

“Glowing, huh?” Starsky teased.

Hutch looked uncomfortable. “Starsk.”

Starsky couldn’t resist tormenting his partner a little. “Well, maybe a little.” He grinned. “Might want to turn down the wattage some, Tinkerbell.”

Hutch glared at Starsky. “Not funny, Gordo. I’m feeling my manhood threatened here.”

Starsky leered. “Nothing wrong with your manhood, schweetheart.”

“Starsk…I’m serious.”

“Ok, ok,” he soothed. Starsky studied Hutch for a moment before answering. “Same old Blintz,” he decided.

Relieved, Hutch visibly relaxed.

“Hutch,” Huggy called from the bar. He held up the phone. “Dobey.”

“Might be about Jenny,” Starsky said, following Hutch to the bar.

“Hutch here, Captain.” He listened intently, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“What?” Starsky asked impatiently, pulling at Hutch’s arm.

Hutch tilted the phone and Starsky leaned in close so he could hear the conversation. “Could you repeat that Captain…Starsky’s listening in,” Hutch asked.

“Yeah. Jenny’s awake. She’s moving her legs. There’s no sign of paralysis. The doctors say she’s going to be fine.” Dobey added, “She asked about you two.”

“Ya think they’re up for some company?” Starsky asked.

“I think they would be disappointed if you didn’t come by,” Dobey replied.

“We’re on our way.”

 

Chapter Twenty One

“Noooooo…Starsky! Starsky!”

Waking abruptly, Starsky sat straight up in the bed and reached to get his gun from the night stand before realizing it was Hutch crying out his name while in the thralls of another nightmare. Sighing, he left his weapon in the drawer and turned to his partner who was violently thrashing in the bed calling his name. “Hutch…Hutch, wake up. It’s ok…Wake up, dammit!” Starsky grabbed Hutch’s shoulders, shaking then non to gently.

Hutch opened his eyes ans stared wildly at Starsky.

“You were dreaming, babe, everything’s ok,” Starsky said gently. He reached out and tenderly stroked the sweat soaked hair off Hutch’s forehead.

The wild look faded from tired blue eyes as Hutch became aware of his surroundings. He noticed Starsky’s worried frown. “I’m ok, buddy…Thanks.” He reached up to caress his love’s cheek.

“Hutch…We need to talk about this.”

“I know.”

“Now,” Starsky said firmly.

Hutch pulled his hand away and reluctantly nodded. “Would ya feel better If we go in the kitchen, turn the light on?” Starsky offered.

“No. This is fine.”

“What’s wrong, babe?” Starsky gently prompted.

“Biglow…he was right, you know, what he said…He was telling the truth.” Hutch spoke so softly Starsky could hardly hear him.

“Hutch…”

“No, Starsk. Dobey did cover for me. I-I thought I was going to lose my mind watching you lie there day after day not able to do anything but wait. I was so afraid I had lost you. Then when y-your heart s-stopped…” Pain filled eyes turned to Starsky. The radiance from the full moon shining through the window was the only light in the dark room, but Starsky had no trouble seeing the tears and pain reflected in Hutch’s eyes.

“Ah, babe, come ‘ere,” Starsky said and gathered his love in his arms.

Feeling those familiar arms once again so full of comforting strength shattered the wall Hutch had built around his turbulent emotions. He broke down and released months of pent up worry and fear. He clung to Starsky, vocalizing his greatest fear, begging him over and over to never leave him.

“Never, Hutch. I’ll never leave you,” Starsky promised. His own voice was thick with emotion, his face wet with tears.

When they managed to calm down some, Starsky leaned over and turned the lamp on. Looking at Hutch, he said dismally, “We are a sight for sore eyes.” Hutch snorted, leaned over Starsky and reached for the box of tissues on the night stand. After wiping his face and blowing his nose, Hutch sat up straighter in the bed and leaned against the headboard. Starsky watched him quietly, giving him time to gather his thoughts.

When Hutch finally spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. “You know I was devastated when Gillian died, but through it all I knew eventually I would be able to deal with the pain of losing her. But, when I had to face the possibility of losing you…really losing you this time…I-I realized at that moment just how much I love and needed you. And I was watching you slip away from me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.” Hutch turned grief stricken eyes upon the man he adored. His voice was stronger now, but still filled with sadness. “I can take anything, Starsk, anything except losing you. It’s the one thing that would destroy me completely. I know it’s wrong of me to ask you to promise me something you can’t control, I know it sounds unreasonable. It’s just…I guess I need to hear it anyway. I need to hear you promise you will never leave me. Stupid, huh?”

“No, love, It’s not stupid. Don’t ever think that. Listen to me,” Starsky picked up Hutch’s hand and held it against his heart. He paused, hesitant to discuss what happened that night he died. It still unnerved him that he remembered some parts of being dead for those few minutes. Being told of an afterlife was a hell of a lot different than actually witnessing a glimpse of it. But, he wanted to reassure Hutch, so that meant dredging up something his mind wanted him desperately to forget. “I could never leave ya, Hutch. We share the same soul. You and I will always be together, in this life and the next.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because…when my heart stopped I…I saw something…something amazing. But, I couldn’t go without you. I REFUSED to leave you, Hutch. I can back to be with you.”

Hutch was humbled by the truth he saw in Starsky’s eyes. He wanted to ask him what he saw, but he instinctively knew his partner didn’t want to discuss it. Instead, he said fervently, “God, how I love you.”

“I love you more,” Starsky responded, leaning over to gently kiss his lover. “Better now?”

“Yeah, I’m getting there. Hutch smiled weakly, “A few more kisses might help.”

Starsky chuckled and spent several minutes thoroughly exploring Hutch’s tonsils. Pulling away, he teased, “So, you gonna stop worrying about the meeting with Dr. Stanberry tomorrow?”

“Can’t pull anything over on you, can I?”

“Nope,” Starsky said smugly.

“I’ll try to worry only a little bit, how’s that?” Hutch said playfully, his dark mood lifting at the familiar banter.

“Well…maybe I had better find something to do to take your mind off the good doc.” Starsky waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Starsk, it’s four am.”

Starsky turned out the light and pounced on Hutch. “Then I’d better make it a ‘quickie’,” he said with mocked seriousness.

 

Chapter Twenty Two

Hutch leaned over and gently kissed Starsky on the cheek. He moved quietly around the room and almost made it to the bedroom door before a sleepy voice from the bed stopped him.

“Hey, where’s my kiss?”

“I kissed you on the cheek a few minutes ago, Gordo.”

Starsky rolled over and grinned at Hutch. “That was my wake up kiss, I’m talking about my good-bye kiss.”

“Starsk, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I don’t want to be late for my meeting with Dr. Stanberry.”

Starsky flopped back down on his back and sighed dramatically. “Just like a man, give ’em your heart and they start to change,” he whined.

Hutch groaned, but he went back to the bed and kissed his lover softly on the lips.

Starsky waited until Hutch made it just past the bedroom door. “Huuutch.”

Sighing, Hutch poked his head back in the room. “What now, Gordo?”

“Ya didn’t tell me you loved me,” he pouted.

Shaking his head, Hutch walked back in the room and sat on the bed. “Come ‘ere you,” he said, gathering his imp in his arms. “I love you.” He kissed Starsky. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “Satisfied?”

Starsky grinned at him. “Yeah.”

Hutch got up and headed to the door. He paused just inside and looked back at his love. Starsky smiled at him.

He got one foot out the door this time.

“Hutch.”

Giving up, Hutch turned around, he was laughing now. “Yes?”

“I love you, too.”

 

Chapter Twenty Three

Hutch sat in Dr. Stanberry’s office and tried hard not to fidget while he waited for his appointment. He kept trying to tell himself that he had nothing to worry about, but then he would hear Biglow’s words taunting him. He knew he had been very close to losing it when Starsky was shot. He only hoped his earlier behavior would not come back to haunt him.

The door opened and Dr. Stanberry entered carrying a tray containing tea, tea cups and sugar. “I apologize for being late, Detective Hutchinson. Would you like some tea? I absolutely abhor coffee.”

“Uh…Yes, please.” Hutch couldn’t help but smile. The dreaded Dr. Stanberry, who’s name had invoked fear in the most seasoned detectives, might have been five feet tall in her stocking feet. Around fifty to fifty-five years old, she looked like someone’s kindly grandmother instead of the new department shrink.

She handed him a cup of tea and placed the sugar within his grasp. Smiling she said. “I must say I am very honored to meet you. Your arrest record is most impressive.”

Hutch nodded, but remained quiet. Dr. Stanberry continued. “I know everyone is worried about these meetings, but I assure you, there really is no cause for alarm. Tell me Detective, having been divorced yourself, you must be aware of the high rate of failed marriages among policemen?”

Hutch nodded again. Dr. Stanberry went on, “And I’m sure you know why. In other high stress jobs, such as a doctor or lawyer, for instance, you can still talk to your spouse about your day. But, how many policemen want to discuss how their day went when the case involves a homicide or worse yet, a child molestation? You keep those emotions to yourself of tell your partner, but you don’t want to discuss it at home. The spouse feels left out. The new Chief of Police is a family man and he wants to develop programs to try to help cops deal with relationships on a healthier level.” She raised an eyebrow and looked knowingly at Hutch. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m here to help, not hurt.”

Feeling a little less threatened, Hutch sat back in his chair and tentatively began to engage in conversation with the doctor.

A hour later, feeling better mentally than he had in a long time, Hutch left Dr. Stanberry’s office and called Starsky from a payphone.

“Starsky.”

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey, yourself. How’d it go?”

“Piece o’ cake.”

“Told ya not to worry.”

“I was worried?”

“Nut.” Starsky chuckled, “Bring me lunch?”

 

Chapter Twenty Three

“Starsky, why are we going to the beach? We’re going to be late for the wedding,” Hutch complained.

“We got plenty of time, Hutch. There’s something I gotta do and I’ve been trying to do it for the past two weeks, but we’ve been too busy and I’m not putting it off any longer.” Starsky parked the Torino near an isolated section of the beach. He got out of the car and waited impatiently for Hutch to join him.

“You want me to come?”

“Naw, I’m standing here waiting for my other lover to join me,” Starsky replied sarcastically.

Curious. Hutch asked, “What’s on the beach that’s so important?”

“Come on and I’ll show ya.”

They walked a ways on the beach until Starsky came to a section he deemed perfect. He stopped and turned to face Hutch. They both were wearing dark suits for the wedding. Starsky thought Hutch never looked more handsome. He didn’t realize he had been standing there for a while just staring at Hutch til his partner spoke.

“Uh, Starsk…why are we here?”

Feeling suddenly shy, Starsky smiled and ducked his head. He hoped Hutch wouldn’t think this was too sappy, but was only doing this once and he wanted to do it right. Shyly, he looked at his partner. “I love you, Hutch.” He reached in his coat pocket and removed the black velvet jewelry box he had carried with him for the past two weeks. Nervously, he opened the box and taking Hutch’s hand he dropped to one knee. “Marry me?”

At first, Hutch stood there dumbstruck, so surprised at Starsky’s proposal he was speechless. But, slowly a smile spread across his face and his eyes filled with unshed tears. He dropped to his knees and pulled Starsky into his arms, holding him tight. “Starsk…oh babe…I love you so much.”

Starsky felt Hutch’s tears wet his cheek. Hugging his love back, he teased, “I take that as a ‘yes’.”

“If only we could,” Hutch replied sadly.

Starsky pulled away and looked at Hutch. “Of course we can. Marriage is the ultimate commitment you make to the one you love, not a piece of paper. He smiled, “Right now, I promise to love you and never leave you, for good or bad, richer or poorer, in this life and the next…for all time.”

Not hesitating, Hutch repeated Starsky’s vows vehemently.

Starsky removed the rings from the jewelry box. “I know they aren’t real wedding bands, but it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to wear those anyway.” He held the rings out for Hutch to see. “These tell how we feel about each other better anyhow.”

Hutch looked at the beautiful rings. “Claddagh rings? Starsk, where did you find them?” He paused a minute, than smiled. “Finney’s.”

“You heard of them before?” Starsky asked surprised.

“Read about them once, but I never saw one.” Hutch picked up a ring and fingered the intricate design. “Friendship, loyalty and love.” He looked inside the band at the engraving printed there. “Me and thee, SandH.” Hutch’s eyes became teary again. “It’s beautiful, Starsk. Besides you, it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“I had the same thing engraved in both rings. Together forever always, like us. Starsky picked up the other ring and placed it on Hutch’s left ring finger. “You wear it with the heart facing toward you, that means you belong to someone-me.” He grinned.

Hutch placed the ring he held on Starsky’s left ring finger, careful to make sure the heart pointed toward Starsky. He kept Starsky’s hand in his and brought it to his lips, where he gently kissed the ring on his love’s finger. “Mine,” he whispered possessively.

There lips came together in a searing kiss that seemed to go on forever. They finally broke apart, laughing and supporting each other as they stood up, wobbling a little from being on their knees for so long. Looking around and making sure they were still alone, they put their arms around each other’s waist and headed back to the Torino.

 

Chapter Twenty Four

“It was so beautiful, wasn’t it beautiful, Hutch?” Minnie sniffed and wiped at her bloodshot eyes.

Hutch offered her his handkerchief. “Yes,” he agreed, “It was very beautiful.” He grinned. “You’ve been crying since the wedding started, Minnie. We’ve been at the reception for almost a hour. You plan on quitting anytime soon?” He teased.

Minnie playfully hit Hutch on his shoulder. “MEN!” She pouted. “I bet you never get emotional at weddings.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Starsky said slyly, coming over to stand beside his partner.

Hutch blushed. “Where did you go off to?” He asked quickly, changing the subject.

“Bathroom.” Starsky smiled wickedly. He did go to the bathroom, but he stopped to use the phone on the way. He had called Huggy to ask him for a huge favor. After a little ribbing, Huggy agreed to take care of the preparations at Starsky’s apartment for Hutch’s surprise.

Minnie turned to Starsky. Smiling, she pointed to the people dancing. “Any chance of getting you on the dance floor?”

“Just try to stop me, schweetheart.” Starsky started to follow Minnie, but he turned back suddenly and looked at his love. “Hey, Blondie, you mind?”

“Naw, knock yourself out,” Hutch replied smiling.

Starsky went to catch up with Minnie, but paused when Hutch called his name. “Hey, Starsk?”

“Yeah?”

“Save the last dance for me,” he whispered.

 

Chapter Twenty Five

Starsky parked the Torino in front of his apartment and left the motor running. “Starsk, I can’t believe you want me to go to the store this time of night for some lube,” Hutch complained.

“Please, Hutch. I forgot to get some. I’d go, but I really have to go to the bathroom…I’ve been holding it for a while,” Starsky pleaded. He did a little wiggle in the seat for emphasis. “Besides, tonight is special…we got married today.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll go.” Hutch sighed, giving in.

“Thanks, babe.” Starsky bounded out of the car and ran convincingly up the stairs. He didn’t really have to go to the bathroom. But he needed some time to change his clothes and check on the surprise he had planned for Hutch. Turning on the light he smiled with satisfaction at Huggy’s transformation of the apartment. Removing his jacket, he quickly went in the bedroom to change. He only had about fifteen or twenty minutes before Hutch returned.

Twenty minutes later…

Figuring Starsky might still be in the bathroom, Hutch used his key to let himself in the apartment. His hand paused at the light switch as he took in the sight before his eyes.

His sneaky partner had been busy. Small white lights decorated the ceiling in the den and white roses in vases graced every corner of the room. The couch was moved closer against the wall, allowing for a small area of empty floor space that was covered with white balloons. Near the kitchen the table was draped with a crisp white linen cloth. On the table were two lit white candles, more flowers, a bottle of wine chilling in a wine bucket and a small white cake. Hutch looked closely, realization dawned on him as he recognized the small pastry was indeed a wedding cake. Two grooms graced the top of the cake-one blonde, the other brunette. He was so amazed at the apartment he didn’t see Starsky standing near the record player.

“Surprised?” Starsky asked softly, his face full of love for his partner.

“Starsk, It’s beautiful…I don’t know what to say. Where…” Whatever else Hutch was going to say faded away as he looked from the decorations to Starsky. Hutch swallowed. He stared at Starsky and was mesmerized by the vision in front of him. Starsky was dressed in a black tuxedo with an obviously expensive looking white silk scarf draped over his shoulders. He was so damn gorgeous Hutch wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and checked to see if he had been drooling. He muttered a low, “Oh, God.”

“Just because we can’t have a wedding day in public doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate our union in private,” Starsky said quietly. “I’ve never been married before. I wanted…” He paused, searching for the right words. “I guess I wanted…” He looked sheepish. “I guess I wanted a wedding day, too.”

Hutch continued to stare at Starsky. Licking his lips, he said hoarsely, “Then you should have worn something else, because the only thing I’m thinking about is our wedding night.”

Starsky blushed at the naked desire he saw in his lover’s face. Shyly, he replied, “Wait til you see the bedroom.”

“No time like the present,” Hutch countered. He began to remove his jacket.

“Hold on, Romeo, I want my solo dance with my groom first,” Starsky demanded. He started the record player and walked over to Hutch, who was watching him with eyes smoldering with need. It was hard for Starsky not to change his mind and head for the bedroom. He gathered Hutch in his arms and looked deep in his crystal blue eyes as he swayed to the beginning of the song. “I love you, Hutch,” he said simply.

“Love you more, babe,” Hutch replied automatically. He gave in to his raging desire and captured Starsky’s lips in a searing kiss.

You can dance
Every dance with the girl who gives you the eye
Let her hold you tight
You can smile
Every smile for the girl who’d like to treat you right
‘Neath the pale moonlight
But don’t forget who’s takin’ you home
And in who’s arms you’re gonna be
Oh, darlin’ save the last dance for me

Breaking the kiss, Hutch starting laughing as he recognized the song playing in the background.

“Hey,” Starsky smiled. “You did say, ‘save the last dance for me.'” Grinning, he removed the lovely scarf and used it to capture Hutch’s neck and pull him back in his arms. The room filled with the melody from the record player as Starsky swept his groom off his feet.

Oh, I know
That the music’s fine like sparklin’ wine
Go and have your fun
Dance and sing
But while we’re apart, don’t give your heart to anyone
And don’t forget who’s takin’ you home
And in who’s arms you’re gonna be
Oh, darlin’, save the last dance for me

Hutch knew he wasn’t much of a dancer, but in Starsky’s arms he forgot about his short comings on the dance floor. Feeling happy and in love, he sang along with the record as he and Starsky twirled and danced around the room amongst the balloons floating on the floor.

You can dance
Go and carry on till the night is gone
And it’s time to go
If she asks
If you’re all alone, can she take you home
You must tell her no
And don’t forget who’s takin’ you home
And in who’s arms you’re gonna be
Oh, darlin’, save the last dance for me

Starsky added his voice to Hutch’s and they sang together while they continued to dance around the room.

And don’t forget who’s takin’ you home
And in who’s arms you’re gonna be
Oh, darlin’, save the last dance for me
Oooo, save the last dance for me

And as the last notes of the song drifted through the room, Starsky effortlessly dipped Hutch and smiled as his love teased, “Nobody dips like Ramon.”

THE END

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Songs:

“I Wanna Get Next To You” by Rolls Royce

“Save the Last Dance For Me” by The Drifters