Dobey sends Starsky & Hutch to Hawaii to transport a prisoner. When they have to deal with Steve McGarrett & Danny Williams from Hawaii 5-0, some unexpected issues crop up. Crossover with the original Hawaii 5-0.
Originally published in the SHareCon 2014 zine.
Monday, December 17, 1979
“I only got one question,” Starsky said quietly, moving his head just enough to look to his side at his partner.
Hutch returned his gaze, a bit warily. “What’s that?”
“How can she be so damn perky after being in this flying cocoon for this long?”
Hutch grinned. “Because it’s her job.”
“Job or no job, I couldn’t be that excited to welcome us to sunny Honolulu after that flight.”
“It was long,” Hutch agreed, as Starsky watched him stretch yet again, to the extent he could while strapped into the narrow United Airlines seat.
“Back?”
“Yeah.”
Starsky lowered his voice: “Well, like I said earlier, I got plans for that back.”
Hutch smiled again, not rising to the bait. “The job, Starsk? You know, the reason we’re here?”
“This isn’t a job,” Starsky argued. “It’s babysitting. I didn’t want to come this damn far for a babysitting job.”
“I’m not sure it’s babysitting,” Hutch countered. “Not with Sanchez. But even so… it’s babysitting that we need — and deserve.”
“Yeah,” Starsky conceded, hearing Hutch’s unspoken reference to what both men steadfastly refused to mention aloud. “Guess it was awfully nice of Dobey to set this up for us.”
“Agreed. And if you want to complain about a long flight, you should have been on the flight I was on with my parents — ”
“You went somewhere with your parents? Willingly?”
Hutch chuckled, speaking a bit louder now that the airplane door was open and the other passengers were talking around them as they gathered their belongings. “It was between college and med school. My father was so proud that he was going to be able to boast about ‘his son the doctor’ at the club that he took all four of us to West Germany for a week.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, well, there was some sort of mechanical problem with the plane that took a while to rectify, so our flight was delayed taking off. So to make amends, the stewardesses gave us free wine all night. Best flight I ever had.”
Starsky frowned. For the job, he’d come to Hawaii. But West Germany — that was one country he’d never visit. Or forgive.
The aisle was clearing out now that the plane’s doors had opened, and slowly the plane emptied out as the passengers gathered their things and disembarked. Everyone did have, Starsky noted, a focused determination to get off the plane as quickly as possible. Indeed, it had been a long flight and he felt a bit off balance as he stood up and they made their way down the flight steps. It wasn’t until he was on the tarmac that he took a moment to look around.
“Hutch,” he said, almost reverently, as he looked up into the cloudless sky. It was a shade of brilliant blue Starsky was sure he’d never seen before. “It’s beautiful.”
Striding along next to him, he could sense Hutch’s total agreement.
“You’re right. We owe Dobey,” Starsky stated. “We’re not even out of the airport yet and I know we owe Dobey.”
“He took Edith here,” Hutch reminded him. “To celebrate her 50th birthday. He said we’d love it. Remember? He warned us we wouldn’t want to come back home.”
“And I didn’t believe him,” Starsky admitted. “I love it back home. But — ”
Hutch seemed to read his mind. “Yeah, it even smells better here. Even at the airport.”
Almost to the building by then, the two men stepped off to the side for a moment.
“Let’s get over to that state police unit, show ‘em the paperwork, and make arrangements to pick up Sanchez tomorrow. The sooner that’s done — ”
“Yeah,” Hutch agreed. “I’m dreaming about the beach here, too.”
They made their way into the airport, down the stairs to the ground level and out to the front of the terminal. The airport was nothing like LAX. Smaller, with an oddly open air construction that seemed to be in stark contrast with the anti-hijacking directives that all the airports back home were adopting. They had no luggage to collect — they were only going to be there overnight, and Hutch was carrying their overnight bag — and in a matter of minutes they were outside looking around them.
“Hey,” Hutch said, gesturing to his right at a stand of garish, gaudy flowers. “You want a lei?”
Before Starsky could even get his wits about him to respond, they were approached. “Aloha,” the taxi-driver greeted them. “Welcome to Hawaii. Taxi? Which hotel?”
Hutch shook his head. “Just a moment.” He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “‘Iolani Palace,” he read off. “The state police.”
“Hawaii Five-O?”
“Yes, thanks,” Hutch confirmed.
Once in the taxi, it was a short trip. “A palace,” Starsky said quietly to Hutch, as the cab was pulling into the circular drive in front of an obviously old but well cared for building. “In the US of A. A palace.”
Hutch shrugged. “Used to be its own country.”
“So did Texas, and there’s no palaces there.”
“Other than Southfork.”
“Ha, ha.”
The taxi driver dropped them off in front of the Palace at the top of the long curved drive, with a friendly admonition to enjoy their time in his beautiful state. They slowly ascended the wide stone staircase and entered the surprisingly cool, spacious building.
“Hawaii Five-O?” Hutch asked a passing woman who was moving with the determined look of an office worker intent on getting home, and she pointed towards a set of stairs that were centered in and dominated the lobby.
“Can you see this staircase back home?” Starsky asked, his voice low. He craned his neck to see around the side of the dark golden, polished wooden steps that almost glowed in the dim light.
“No.” Hutch shook his head. “It’s a masterpiece.”
Once to the top of the steps, it was clear that the office they sought was to the right and they entered, their eyes in tandem finding the secretary.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hutch said, his natural politeness coming to the fore. “Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson. We’re here to see Mr. McGarrett.”
“Certainly,” the trim, efficient woman said, and touched a button on her phone. “Boss? The two detectives from California are here.”
The response thru the phone’s intercom was cool, crisp and immediate: “Send them in.”
They entered through the door behind her, but had to stop, marveling at the sheer size and relaxed comfort of the office. Starsky was uncomfortably aware that all he’d done since landing was gawk, and he promised himself that that would stop.
Both men gathered themselves and strode over to the centerpiece of the room, a large desk which was positioned at an angle in front of two French doors, open to the gentle breeze.
“Steve McGarrett,” the tall man seated there introduced himself, without smiling. He rose with his hand outstretched but did not look welcoming in the least. “And you are?”
As he was shaking hands, Starsky responded with “I’m Starsky.”
“Hutchinson. Call me Hutch.”
Starsky pressed his lips together to hold his peace, watching the man look down his nose at them. He took an instant dislike to McGarrett who was dressed immaculately in a dark suit, red tie, and white shirt. His hair was perfectly combed. He was looking at both Starsky and Hutch as if he’d instantly assessed both men and found them wanting.
‘Damn, and we wore our best slacks too,’ Starsky thought, sarcastically.
“Indeed.” McGarrett punched a button on his phone with far more energy than Starsky felt he had to employ, and bit out a command: “Danno. The Sanchez file.”
Starsky had only been in the office for a few minutes but by now he was already sure of two things and the other one was that was McGarrett would not be a fun individual to work for. He surely pitied the Danno on the other end of the line.
“Steve?” a short, curly headed man said, sticking his head around the door.
McGarrett stuck out his hand without taking his eyes off Starsky and Hutch. Without a word, the man obediently trotted over to the desk, and plopped the file in his boss’ outstretched hand. Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and Hutch arched his eyebrows. Starsky nodded — yes, the guy looked like he was about 25. Well, maybe 32. But he was obviously far younger than McGarrett.
Starsky decided to break the ice then by commenting on something he had noted the moment McGarrett had opened his mouth.
“Bay Ridge.”
McGarrett looked back at him, his expression sharp, but Starsky was placid. Hutch glanced over at him as well, but caught on immediately, as Starsky had known he would. After a moment, he acknowledged Starsky’s comment with a curt, and dismissive: “Queens — Richmond Hill”.
“You’re a long way from home,” Starsky ventured. At second thought, he’d decided he’d been premature to judge. He was working hard now trying to reverse his conclusion that this fellow was a first class, pompous jerk, so he hung in there a moment longer, conscious of the fact that ‘Danno’ was watching him but that McGarrett was looking over the file.
McGarrett didn’t deign to look up. “This is home.”
Starsky sighed just as Hutch spoke up. “What do you need from us now? We need to get a hotel for the night.”
“Yeah, just show us where to sign and what time we have to be where tomorrow.”
******************************************************
Later the next morning, Starsky had just gotten comfortable — he’d had to lay face down on the beach towel for several minutes, solely due to the fact that Hutch had done a thorough job applying suntan lotion to him with the expected results to Starsky’s anatomy — when a shadow blocked the warm late morning sun and the gentle breeze he’d been enjoying shifted.
He didn’t need to look up. He had a sixth sense.
“Marvelous,” Hutch groaned, from his right. “It’s the Boy Wonder.”
Danny shook his head as he squatted down on his haunches next to Starsky. “I’m older than both of you,” he corrected. “At least, according to the information we got.”
“On us?” Starsky asked, in surprise.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“You don’t think we’re gonna release Sanchez to any Tom, Dick, or Harry that shows up, do you?” Danny asked, mildly. “We had to check you out ahead of time.”
“Don’t need a dick from that list,” Hutch said, sourly. “You already have one. Your boss — ”
“We need you in court,” Danny interrupted, and with Danny’s back blocking the sun, Starsky could see and noted the deep frown the other man displayed.
That got his attention. “For what?”
“For Sanchez’ extradition hearing,” Danny explained.
“Now hold on! Wait a darn minute,” Starsky exclaimed. “The deal was — ”
“The deal is off. We need you.” Danny stood up again. “I’ll accompany you back to your hotel room so you can change and then take you over to the courthouse. We have 45 minutes.”
“Shit,” Starsky complained. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Time’s wasting,” Danny warned. He started to reach down for their spare towels.
“Oh, all right,” Hutch said, grumpily. “Hold your damn horses. We’re coming.”
“Just hope it works,” Danny said, gloomily. “He’s got more tricks up his sleeve than — ”
“Works?”
“Shakes Sanchez out of his statement that he’s never been in California.”
“Oh, it will,” Starsky said, resignedly, standing and collecting his towel. “He takes one look at Hutch and he’ll fold like a cheap card table.”
Danny smiled a little at that and the three men headed back up the beach.
“You sure dress fancy for the beach,” Starsky needled as they trudged through the sand. “I’d hate to see you go all native on us.”
“Yeah,” Hutch chimed in. “What do you do for relaxation, take off the tie?”
Danny took a deep breath. “Steve likes his team to be in suits. So, we’re in suits.”
“In Hawaii, no less,” Hutch mocked.
“Yes, in Hawaii, no less,” Danny snapped back. “We don’t all wear grass skirts. In fact, we’ve got all the latest new-fangled contraptions here. Tailors. Leather shoes. Indoor plumbing, even — with flush toilets.”
That chastened both of the detectives from Southern California, and they completed their walk across the bright sand in silence. As they entered the hotel’s open plan lobby, Danny waved to an older man who was relaxing on a settee, reading a newspaper.
“Hullo, Danny,” the man said, looking up. He eyed Starsky and Hutch. “Is everything ok?”
Danny nodded. “These are friends of mine from the mainland. I just came by to say hi, since they’re visiting.”
The man nodded and Danny punched the button for the elevator.
“Hotel detective?” Starsky asked. He hadn’t even registered that when they’d walked out to the beach, but clearly he was.
Danny nodded.
“I’m surprised you need them,” Hutch offered carefully, in a conciliatory tone.
“Tourists,” Danny stated, as he waved both Starsky and Hutch to enter the elevator before him.
“Tourists?”
“Yeah, somehow on the plane ride over here, they all lose their common sense and ability to know when to say when. And men, in particular, frequently forget they’re married.”
There wasn’t anything to say to that, and in a few minutes they were standing outside their hotel room door. With a resigned look at Starsky, Hutch fished out his key from the shallow pocket in his trucks and inserted it in the lock.
Starsky wasn’t worried — they’d carefully messed up the other bed so as not to shock the chambermaid — so he certainly wasn’t worried about this island cop seeing anything that would give the man a second thought.
******************************************************
“I don’t know,” Starsky said, extremely dubiously. “We –”
Danny interrupted him. “Please. It would be my pleasure. Put a capstone on Five-O’s dealings with Sanchez.”
Starsky still hesitated, conscious of his instinctive, understandable dislike of McGarrett, which he knew Hutch completely shared. Williams was okay, really, but his boss… if it weren’t for the fact that McGarrett was included in the invitation, it would be a different story, but given that he clearly was…. “I don’t think — ”
“You two can ride with me,” Danny decreed. “Steve can follow in his car.”
Starsky shrugged, abandoning his concern. A beer, even while McGarrett was in the same zip code, sounded great and he knew Hutch would never say no to a beer. Or three.
They’d wasted the entire afternoon in court, but in the end, Sanchez and his attorney had run out of tricks and Hutch’s clear, convincing, and obviously truthful testimony had run out the clock. Tomorrow evening — all the flights back to California left in the late afternoon, and Dobey had wisely insisted on open return tickets — Sanchez was going to be sitting between them on a plane back to answer to the rape charges. If it were up to Starsky, he’d open the cabin door half way home and push Sanchez out over the Pacific, but that wasn’t the way the game was played. And he still tried to play the game.
Hutch was like thunder in the back seat for the entire trip to Williams’ condo, but Starsky expected that. Sanchez did make one’s skin crawl and any amount of time with McGarrett was that many minutes too long. He was counting on the beer to help Hutch unwind.
“Wow,” Hutch said, unthawing a bit as Danny opened the door to his apartment. French doors, which Starsky and Hutch were learning were ubiquitous at least to this corner of Hawaii, were open, and the darkening blue sky was a beautiful backdrop to the soft browns and maize colors of Danny’s small living room. “This is nice.”
“I like it,” Danny said, simply. Steve, who had indeed driven by himself and had been stalking along silently behind them since arriving, pushed past and immediately disappeared down the short hall to the left. Starsky imagined that the only things that could be down the hall were the bathroom and a bedroom. The condo was very small.
“Don’t mind him,” Danny said, looking at both men in turn. “Sanchez really got to him.”
“But I was right,” Starsky said, deciding that he’d seen enough of McGarrett to be comfortable ignoring him, never minding what Williams said or didn’t say. “He wilted like a cheap flower when Hutch walked in.”
“He did, indeed,” Danny agreed. “Tried to rally, but — ”
“Can’t wait to get him back home,” Hutch vowed. “He’ll never see daylight again. Unless it’s in a prison yard.”
“Yeah,” Starsky added. “And they love child rapists inside. He’s not in for a very peaceful stay courtesy of Governor Brown and the California taxpayer.”
The three men were quiet for a bit, then Hutch spoke up. “You play?” he asked Danny, having spied a guitar in the corner.
Danny laughed, as he headed for the couch. “No. That’s Steve’s. He’s pretty good — he can twist his fingers and make all those fancy thing-ys”.
“Chords?”
“Yeah, those.”
“May I?”
“Sure,” Danny said. “Help yourself.”
“Oh, no,” Starsky moaned. “Now it will be fifteen minutes of plucking and picking and humming and — ”
“Tuning?” Danny asked.
“You can’t play an untuned instrument,” Hutch protested, already reaching for the polished wood of the guitar’s neck, his eyes on what was truly a beautiful guitar. Starsky could sense how much Hutch wanted to try it out, even as he was wondering why McGarrett was keeping his guitar at Williams’ condo.
“I know,” Starsky protested. “Believe me, I know. I play too! It’s just I can tune a guitar a little more efficiently…”
Danny smiled. “Well, Steve has to tune it, too, when he plays.”
“Lucky you!”
“We can go out on the lanai,” Danny invited Starsky with another smile, but as he was speaking the telephone rang.
Danny moved to answer it at once, saying, “Williams. Oh, hi, Benny.”
In a matter of moments, his demeanor completely changed; like air whooshing out from a balloon, Starsky thought.
“No.” Danny shook his head. “No, but thanks. I’ll find him, I’ll tell him.” Danny nodded. “Yeah, and those two cops from the mainland too.”
With a thud, Williams hung up the phone and stood, lost in thought.
After a second, when he didn’t say anything, Hutch asked, quietly. “What?”
Danny shook his head. “Sanchez.”
“What about Sanchez?” Starsky asked, his voice also quiet. He expected to hear that the attorney — who had been excellent — had figured out a way to countermand the judge’s extraction order.
Williams shook his head. “Dead.”
“Dead!” But Hutch was talking to no one, as Danny had immediately disappeared down the hall. Then both Starsky and Hutch heard an explosive “No!”
Hutch looked at Starsky. “Dead!”
“Shit,” Starsky exclaimed. He looked at Hutch in dismay. “This ended up being a wasted trip — ”
“Coupled with dealing with Dick Tracy and his puppy,” Hutch finished for him, equally upset.
Starsky had opened his mouth to respond, but just then McGarrett came barreling out of the back. Danny was reasoning with him. “Let Doc do the autopsy,” he was saying. “What good are you going to do down there except aggravate Dann? It’s his department, let him handle it.”
“I’m going down there!”
Starsky waited for the man to go charging out the front door to the condo as quickly as he’d come in, but he was in for a surprise.
“No!”
This was from Williams and was every bit as loud as McGarrett’s earlier “no” had been.
Hutch arched his eyebrows at Starsky.
“I wanted that guy brought to justice,” McGarrett snarled, pounding his fist into his hand but not moving to leave.
“I know,” Danny said, quietly but firmly, looking at McGarrett intently. “So did we all,” he added, with a move that encompassed Starsky and Hutch. He then turned to the two men. “Steve still believes in truth, justice, and the American way. Letting the bad guys commit suicide isn’t part of that.”
It could have been a snide comment, but it was clear Danny was serious.
Starsky honored that confidence and the spirit in which it was shared by nodding and agreeing: “So does Hutch.”
“No,” Hutch countered. “I believe in the Golden Rule.”
“Yeah,” Starsky said, bitterly. “He who’s got the gold, makes the rules. How do ya think Sanchez evaded justice for as long as he did?”
“He won now,” Hutch said, flatly.
Starsky shook his head. “No. He lost. He’ll get his now, that’s for sure.”
Danny looked at Starsky. “Yes. Yes, he will.”
McGarrett was ignoring them, but he’d seemed to deflate some of his anger while they’d been talking. “Sorry, gentlemen,” he said. “HPD obviously needs training in how to run its lock up.”
Hutch shook his head. “It happens. No matter what measures you take, it happens.”
A long silence descended on the four men.
“I think we’ll be — ”
“Please,” Danny said. “Stay.”
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other. Hutch shrugged.
“Would you like that beer now?”
“Whatever you’re having,” Hutch answered. “But, yeah.”
“That means a beer,” McGarrett said, after a moment. This was the first non-police matter statement he’d made to either Starsky or Hutch and they looked at each other in surprise just as Hutch was responding, “Sounds good.”
Williams scurried off to the kitchen and after a few moments, three beers were opened and passed around as the four men sat down in Danny’s living room.
“Steve doesn’t drink.”
“Oh.” Starsky and Hutch looked at each other again.
“He’s not really human,” Hutch whispered, very softly and Starsky had to bite back a chuckle, but just as Hutch was speaking, he realized that McGarrett was actually all too human.
He’d put it completely together by the time the four men were seated in the small room. He and Hutch had been careful to select the two chairs that were at a safe distance from each other, but the two other men were on the couch and as Starsky watched, Steve looked at both Starsky and Hutch in turn, and then deliberately lifted his arm and placed it around Danny’s shoulders.
Hutch had gotten it, too. There was truly a long silence as each couple tried to get the measure of the other. Starsky and Hutch blinked first.
“How did you know? Hutch asked, quietly.
Steve and Danny looked at each other and then back at them. “You definitely get credit for trying. But you didn’t think of everything.”
Starsky shrugged, even though he wasn’t at all pleased. “I was worried about the chambermaid. Didn’t think we’d have a cop in there as well.”
“So what was it?” Hutch insisted.
“The nightstand,” Danny admitted after a moment. “All the personal items were on the center and left side nightstands. If you’d really spent the night in different beds, they would have been on the center nightstand only. Probably. After that, it was just watching how you interact with each other. Even though we knew Starsky had been badly — ”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hutch said quickly.
“I just put two and two together,” Danny said, after a swift glance at Hutch.
“Danno is an excellent detective,” Steve added at once, with a soft ring of pride under his words.
“Oh,” Hutch said, deflated. He looked at Steve and Danny. “You’re one up on us. The penny just now dropped for both of us.”
Danny nodded. “We’ve had a lot of practice. And this is our home. We know how to act here. If we were in California, out of our normal routine, you may have figured us out first.”
Starsky doubted that. He couldn’t imagine willingly spending time with McGarrett and he still pitied Williams. On the other hand, he could practically sense the stress slipping away from Williams as they sat there. He realized that McGarrett probably only really relaxed, only really allowed himself to be himself, around Williams. Maybe that explained things. Maybe the man was really not an ass. Maybe.
“How long?” Hutch asked, perhaps imprudently. “And why?”
“The long is the easy part,” Steve came back with right away. “Not long enough.”
“As for the why, why indeed?” Danny asked. “When you can define it, please let me know.”
Starsky was not enjoying this conversation. With time and effort, he’d come to a measure of peace with the fact that he was a man in love with another man and he was going to spend the rest of his days with Hutch. That whole thing with Gunther had gone a long way in cementing that decision, and he was very happy. They were very happy.
But he wasn’t interested in true confessions with anyone other than Hutch about this, and McGarrett was the last man he wanted to talk to about anything in this arena.
Danny perhaps felt the same way about the direction of the conversation, because he drained his beer in one or two swallows and stood up. “Been a long day, fellows,” he said. “How about I drive you back to your hotel?”
******************************************************
“Ready to go home?”
Hutch nodded, but didn’t look over at Starsky.
Starsky wasn’t a fan of flying, so he held his tongue until they were aloft and he judged that they’d at least make it out of Hawaiian airspace in one piece. Even then, he kept quiet; not so much because he wanted to, but because he was so tired. Ever since that… time… he got so tired, so easily, and this trip had been exhausting in more ways than one.
He must have dozed off because when he next looked around him, the debris from the drink service he’d never noticed being served was still on the various tray tables. Hutch picked up a glass from his table. “I got you a Coke,” he offered, handing Starsky the drink.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t think we’ll be going back there,” Hutch offered.
“No,” Starsky said, carefully taking a sip from the plastic glass. It was a little too full. “But still… ”
“Still what?”
“It was an interesting trip.”
“Illuminating, even,” Hutch admitted. He continued: “I thought Williams was a good guy. He has his hands full.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t envy him.”
Starsky shook his head. “No, me neither.”
Hutch was quiet for a while. “Any regrets?”
Starsky shook his head again. “Not a one.”
Hutch took a deep breath. “Want to take a couple of days’ vacation when we get home?”
Starsky paused, really giving the question some thought. Then he nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
He drained the rest of his soda and started to drop his tray table to rest the empty glass, but Hutch took it from him and put it on his own table.
Starsky rested his head back on the headrest and tried to find some peace with everything. Closing his eyes, he hoped to sleep again. “Don’t wake me up until the pilot announced our approach to LAX,” he told his partner, and he wasn’t kidding. “I can’t get home fast enough.”
Hutch nodded in response as he was shaking out one of the small cheap blue blankets that the airline offered. Starsky realized he must’ve gotten it from a stewardess when he’d been dozing. Hutch was spreading it over their laps cross-ways, even though the fabric barely cleared their laps.
“I’m not cold,” Starsky told Hutch.
“Neither am I,” Hutch responded, as he snaked his hand under the blanket and grasped Starsky’s hand, holding it in a firm, gentle grip.
Starsky smiled, and finally relaxed. The peace he’d been searching for had instead found him.
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