Just One Bite

919

Starsky & Hutch go on vacation, to avoid Halloween.

This was a fun story for Halloween, inspired by The Vampire episode. Mild language, vampires.

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Starsky hated Halloween – even more than a full moon. The streets were always filled with kooks and kids, generally causing havoc. This year, Starsky made sure that he and Hutch had three days off, and they decided to head for the bright lights of Las Vegas.

Starsky sat with his feet on the dash of Hutch’s car and glanced over at his partner. Starsky had planned to drive, but some idiot crashed into his car, and Merle was out of town. He’d left his car in the police garage for repair, so Hutch insisted they take his beater. Starsky had wanted to rent a decent car for the drive, but Hutch won the argument, citing the expense of a rental.

“Hutch, do you know…?”

Keeping his eyes on the Friday afternoon traffic on the freeway, Hutch cut Starsky off in mid-sentence. “Oh, Starsk, not more useless information from that book of yours.”

“I was going to say, do you know how appreciative I am that you agreed to Las Vegas, instead of the camping trip you wanted,” Starsky snapped. Whose idea had it been to leave right after their shift, when they were both tired and stressed?

“You feeling okay, Starsk?” Hutch glanced away from the road, giving Starsky a questioning look. “Appreciative is not a word you normally use.”

“Hutch, why’d you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me feel inferior.” Starsky didn’t wait for an answer. He closed his eyes. Some vacation this is going to be.

*****************

“Damn car.”

Hutch’s angry voice jolted Starsky awake.

“What’s wrong?” Starsky sat up straight in his seat. “What we stopped for? Are we here?” He looked around him, expecting to see desert and empty road. Instead, he saw a dirt track and trees.

“Engine died,” Hutch answered, thumping the steering wheel.

Starsky grinned, “Should have listened to me. Said we needed to rent a car.”

“Shut up, Starsky,” Hutch climbed out of the car, his footsteps sending up small clouds of dusty earth as he walked around the front of the car and popped the hood.

Starsky sighed and got out of the car. “What you doing, Hutch?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m finding out why she stopped,” answered Hutch, irritably. He fumbled around in the engine.

“You know nothing about mechanics, buddy.”

Starsky jumped back as Hutch swung his fist in Starsky’s direction.

“Back off, Starsk. I’ll fix it. I know what I’m doing.”

Starsky held his hands up. “Okay, okay.”

Hutch continued fiddling with the various tubes, spark plugs and whatever else he could find to tighten up.

“Hutch, where are we?” yelled Starsky. “This isn’t the road to Vegas.”

“Ow.” Hutch walked around to the side of the car, holding the top of his head. “Starsky, don’t yell like that. You made me jump and I banged my head. Man, that hurts.”

“Hutch, where are we?” Starsky repeated, just in case Hutch hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Shortcut.”

“Sho-shortcut? Hutch, there are no short cuts to Las Vegas. Just one long road. Where are we?” demanded Starsky. He was starting to get really pissed at Hutch. He was tired, hungry and needed the bathroom.

“Detour. Something I wanted to show you.” Hutch grinned with a smug expression.

“Show me what? We are in the middle of nowhere,” Starsky hissed through gritted teeth. “What can you possibly have to show me?” He wished that they were still in Bay City, working. Hutch was acting worse than the kooks Starsky was trying to get away from.

“This, Starsk. I wanted to show you this.” Hutch waved his arms around him. “I’ve found a little motel where we can be comfortable, but still enjoy the big outdoors. Booked a room for tonight and tomorrow, we head to Las Vegas.” Hutch looked very pleased with himself.

“And where is this motel? I see nothing but trees.” Starsky was just about ready to punch Hutch. Now he knew why Hutch had given in so easily. Hutch had planned it all in advance, even getting hotel reservations.

“Um. We haven’t passed it, so I guess it’s in that direction,” said Hutch, pointing to the dirt track ahead of them.

“You mean, you don’t know where the motel is?” Starsky asked incredulously. He looked around again, hoping to find that the motel had miraculously appeared among the trees.

“Yeah, I know where it is. The guy on the phone said take the Furnace Creek road and we can’t miss it. Come on, get the bags. It can’t be far away.”

“You expect me to walk?” spluttered Starsky. That was the last straw.

“What else are we going to do, buddy?” Hutch smiled apologetically.

Starsky kicked the left back wheel. “Bloody useless car.” He hopped around, holding his foot. Good move, Starsky. You never learn that these sneakers are no good for kicking things.

“Hey, Starsk. That’s my car you’re kicking. Quit it.” Hutch opened the trunk and grabbed their bags, thrusting Starsky’s into his arms.

Starsky glared at him. Is Hutch serious? He strands us in the middle of nowhere, and then shouts at me for kicking his heap of a car.

Hutch slammed the trunk shut. “Come on, Starsk. We can phone a tow truck from there.”

“We can phone a tow truck from there,” mimicked Starsky. “Wouldn’t need one if you’d listened to me and rented a decent car. But, oh no, WE had to use your car. You can carry this.” Starsky dropped his bag on Hutch’s foot and set off in the direction Hutch had pointed.

He didn’t care whether Hutch was following or not. Right now, he just wanted to put some space between himself and Hutch. Hutch was so impossibly annoying at times. But Starsky knew he wouldn’t stay mad at Hutch for long, he never could. He quickened his pace, muttering things that he would like to do to Hutch right at this very moment. None of them were very nice.

Starsky kept his eyes on the ground. The semi-darkness and the uneven dirt track made walking quite hazardous. At least the almost full moon lit the path enough to see a short way ahead.

Starsky was aware of footsteps hurrying behind him. Heavy panting reached his ears and he grinned. Carrying the bags was slowing Hutch down and tiring him out by the sound of things. Starsky knew that under normal circumstances, Hutch would have overtaken him without the weight of their bags to hinder his progress.

“Starsk!!”

Starsky ignored the gasped word.

“Starsk, slow down.”

“Why?” snapped Starsky.

“Because you’ve missed the motel, buddy,” panted Hutch.

Starsky spun round. “What?”

Hutch dropped the bags and pointed his right index finger.

Starsky looked in the direction that Hutch was indicating.

He had been so incensed and intent on keeping in front of Hutch that he had stomped ahead without watching his surroundings. Starsky couldn’t believe that he had missed the big white buildings to his left. A huge purple neon sign flashed ‘Creek Motel’. Between the trees, a small driveway led to a large parking lot and several one story structures. Half a dozen pick-up trucks filled most of the spaces. A ‘No Vacancies’ sign swung from the right gatepost.

Hutch grinned. “Popular place. Lucky I booked in advance.” He bent over and picked up the bags. “Come on, Starsk. Let’s check in and then we can get something to eat. You must be starving.”

Starsky’s stomach rumbled. “Not really.” He wasn’t letting Hutch off that easily. He was still angry, and having Hutch point out that he had walked past their destination didn’t help his mood. He followed Hutch’s happy swagger, and ground his teeth when Hutch started to whistle. A cheerful Hutch wasn’t something Starsky wanted right now.

The attendant sitting at the motel desk glanced up when the door opened.

“Hello, my good man. I have two rooms booked for Kenneth Hutchinson and David Starsky,” Hutch said, flashing his best smile at the surly looking guy.

Starsky noted that the man’s name badge read Dylan.

Dylan checked the register. “Only got one room reserved under the name of Hutchinson. Twin beds.”

Hutch spluttered, “I booked two rooms a week ago. I was told we would have separate rooms.”

Starsky wondered what Hutch’s problem was. They’d shared a room before. Several times in fact.

Dylan sighed. “We’re fully booked. Do you want the room or not?”

“We’ll take it,” said Starsky. He put a hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Come on, Hutch. I’m tired and hungry. What’s your problem?”

Hutch tensed under Starsky’s touch. “My problem is I booked two rooms.” Hutch straightened to his full height.

Dylan pushed himself to a stand, topping Hutch by a good six inches.

Starsky could feel the testosterone flooding the room. His own anger dispelled at the scene unfolding before him. He squeezed Hutch’s shoulder, hoping that he could convey his silent message to his partner and avert the face off. “We’ll take the room. Come on, Hutch. Let’s get settled and then find someplace to eat.”

Hutch quietly turned and walked out of the lobby.

Dylan handed Starsky a key. “Room 5, turn left out the door.” As an afterthought, he added, “There’s a Halloween party in the diner behind this building. Food, music, beer.”

Starsky took the key. “Thanks. Where’s the nearest service station? Our car broke down a mile back.”

“Bout ten miles away. You can call them in the morning. Number’s pinned on the wall, by the phone.” Dylan pointed over to the public phone in the corner of the lobby.

Starsky opened the door and walked straight into Hutch, who was standing in the parking lot, his fists clenched tightly around the handles of their bags. His face was white with anger.

Starsky pushed Hutch in the direction of their room. “We can call a tow truck in the morning. Don’t know where we’re gonna eat. There’s a damn Halloween party in the diner.” He unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch.

Hutch walked into the room and threw the bags on the floor. “See you later. I’m going for a walk.”

Hutch left Starsky standing outside the room open-mouthed. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll figure something out on my own, huh?” said Starsky to thin air. He went inside and lay down on the bed nearest to the door. This was turning out to be the vacation from hell. What was with Hutch? His moods were switching quicker than the neon sign outside.

Hunger and tiredness fought for Starsky’s attention. He wanted to eat, but couldn’t face the party in the diner. He was trying to get away from Halloween, not embrace it. Yawning, Starsky sat up, determined to stay awake until Hutch came back. He just couldn’t go to sleep without finding out what was eating Hutch.

*****************

The sound of the bedroom door crashing open woke Starsky with a start. He grabbed wildly at the side of the bed so that he didn’t fall onto the floor. “What the hell?”

Hutch staggered in and collapsed on the empty bed.

His stomach was churning, Starsky sat up, livid. He was sure he’d been under attack. Visions of kidnappers, gunmen and robbers, all flashed through his mind. Adding to the adrenaline rush, he felt sick from hunger. “Hutch, you scared me half to death. What you playing at, buddy?”

“Tired,” Hutch slurred. He turned his back on Starsky, pulling the blankets over his head, still fully clothed.

“Me too. Tired and hungry!” shouted Starsky. He looked at his watch. “Where you been? It’s nearly four am.” More than a little annoyed, he’d been worried about Hutch. But obviously Hutch hadn’t been worried about Starsky.

“Dunno. Walking, drinking. So tired. Leave me alone,” Hutch demanded, his voice muffled by the blankets.

Starsky’s anger rose. “Okay, buddy. I’ll leave you alone.” He turned his back on Hutch and huddled down under his own blankets. Hutch had some nerve. Staying out most of the night, coming in drunk and demanding to be left alone. Well, two could play at that game.

Starsky closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He tossed and turned, drifting in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. Finally, he gave up and looked at his watch. The room was bathed in the weak early morning sunlight that filtered through the thin curtains. He groaned, “8:10.” Swinging his legs around, he got up and stretched, shuffling stiffly to the bathroom to get showered and dressed.

Walking back into the bedroom, he said, “Hutch, I’m going to call for a tow truck. Are you coming for breakfast?”

Hutch lay still, totally buried in his blankets. He didn’t answer.

Starsky waited, looking at the cocooned lump in the bed. Was Hutch even breathing? He lay his hand on the highest bump. He felt a weak but steady rise and fall. “Hutch, buddy, you okay?”

Hutch gave a quiet moan. “Go ‘way,” the mass answered.

“Okay, if that’s how you want it. See you later?” Starsky strutted out of the room. This wasn’t like Hutch. However, Starsky was eager to get to Las Vegas, and figured that he would deal with whatever was eating Hutch later.

He walked into the motel lobby. Turning to his right, he stopped abruptly. The public phone was smashed on the floor. He looked over at Dylan, standing behind the desk. “What happened?” Starsky gestured at the mangled box at his feet.

“Guest went crazy last night, wrecked the joint. Night Manager said it was a big blond guy. Sounds like your pal,” replied Dylan. “Not many blonds around these parts.”

“Doubt it, we’re cops. Hutch wouldn’t destroy public property. Can I use your phone?” Starsky wasn’t convinced that Dylan had the wrong man. Any other time, he would have been sure, but Hutch had been acting weird ever since they’d arrived at this place. Hutch never got staggering drunk or slurred his words, and he wouldn’t go to bed fully clothed.

“No can do. He damaged that, too. I’m gonna have to drive into town later and get someone down here to repair the phones. You wanna hitch a ride?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Damn, Las Vegas seemed like a million miles away and it was obvious that Starsky wasn’t going anywhere soon. “What time does the diner open?”

“Open now. I’m heading out at eleven.”

“I’ll be back then.” Starsky jogged out of the lobby and around the building to the diner.

*****************

After he had eaten, Starsky headed back to the room.

He found Hutch exactly where he had left him. It looked like Hutch hadn’t moved at all. Starsky nudged his partner.

“Hutch, you okay?” How many times had he asked this? Maybe he should just let Hutch sleep. He would have one hell of a hangover when he woke up.

A strange sound emanated from the mound.

“Hutch, was that you?” Starsky was starting to get worried. Something wasn’t right. This felt wrong. How on earth had Hutch found out about this place? Starsky didn’t recognize the area at all. He didn’t even know how far away from Bay City they were. If only he hadn’t fallen asleep in the car. He realized that Dylan hadn’t even told him the name of the nearest town.

Starsky looked at his watch. It was only ten am, another hour before Dylan was leaving for town.

Starsky lay on his bed and closed his eyes. He felt really tired. His restless night was catching up with him. He shouldn’t fall asleep. Someone had to get the car fixed. He yawned.

Starsky woke with a start. The room was in semi-darkness. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to focus on his watch. The face was blurry, and he couldn’t make out the time. Sitting up, he noticed that the other bed was empty. Totally empty. No Hutch, no blankets.

“Hutch. Hutch, where are you?” he bellowed.

Starsky focussed on his watch again. Damn, it was past eight o’clock, he’d slept all day. Why hadn’t Dylan knocked when he left?

“Hutch, where are you, buddy?” He would kill Hutch if he’d gone walk about again.

Starsky felt the urgent need to pee and ran into the bathroom. He didn’t notice that there was someone in the bathtub until after he had relieved himself. He could just see Hutch’s blond hair peeking out from beneath the blankets.

“Hutch, what the hell are you doing in the bathtub?” Starsky bent over and grabbed the corner of the top blanket.

A loud hissing sound stopped him mid-pull.

“Don’t. Too light. Go away,” snarled the person under the covers.

Starsky was shocked. The venom in the voice cut deep into his soul. It didn’t sound anything like Hutch.

“Hutch, is that you?” Starsky knew it was a stupid question. Of course it was Hutch. There was something very wrong here.

“What’s wrong, Hutch? Are you sick? Maybe I should get a doctor.” Starsky probed under the blanket and touched icy skin. Skin so cold that he pulled his hand away, his fingers chilled to the bone with just one fleeting touch.

“Starsk, go away, please.”

Starsky had never heard Hutch sound so pleading. Those mood swings again. Angry one minute, passive the next. What’s happening here?

“Hutch, you need help. You’re so cold.” How could Hutch be that cold? He was submerged in blankets and still fully clothed. The room was warm.

A death white hand reached out of the tub and grabbed Starsky’s.

Starsky jumped back, pulling his hand away. Hutch’s skin was almost translucent. What the hell had happened to him? Scared, Starsky backed up against the closed door, fumbling for the handle.

Hutch stood up and threw off the blankets. Clumsily, he stepped out of the bathtub and stumbled toward Starsky.

Starsky swallowed. Dear God. Hutch looked like death. His eyes were scary. They were still blue, not the usual friendly sky blue, but a cold, steely blue. There was something hypnotic in Hutch’s glassy eyes and Starsky felt himself being drawn deep inside the frozen pool of his partner’s stare.

Hutch smiled. “Hey, buddy, you okay? You look scared. It’s just me, Hutch.”

Starsky frantically tried to open the door. Why won’t the damned door open? He stared at Hutch’s vampire teeth. Shit, Hutch was a vampire. How, when, why?

“You are right, Starsky. I need help. But not a doctor. You.”

Hutch pinned Starsky up against the door and pushed his face into Starsky’s.

Starsky could feel Hutch’s breath on his neck. Not warm like it should be, but a cold icy blast. He struggled and found he couldn’t move. Hutch had always been stronger than he was, but Hutch seemed bigger, even stronger, than Starsky remembered.

“Wh-what can I do? You need a doctor, buddy. Let me get one for you.” Starsky said in a shaky voice, trying to reason with Hutch.

Hutch leered at him. “No doctor. I need you. I need your blood to make me warm, to make me better.” His mouth moved closer to Starsky’s throat.

Starsky struggled harder. “No, Hutch. Don’t do this, please.” Starsky’s biggest fear was vampires. Ever since that freak ballet teacher had tried to bite him, he’d had nightmares. But Hutch had always saved him. Now that Hutch was the vampire, there was no-one to save Starsky.

“Come on, Starsk. Just one bite. That’s all I need,” pleaded Hutch. His eyes locked on Starsky’s.

Starsky could feel himself weakening, giving in. He never could refuse Hutch anything.

“Just one bite, just one bite.” Hutch’s voice echoed in Starsky’s head. “Come on, Starsk.”

*****************

“Come on, Starsk, wake up. We’re here, buddy.”

“Huh?” Starsky jolted awake. He shrank back from Hutch’s touch.

“You okay, Starsk?”

Starsky looked into Hutch’s smiling face and then at his surroundings. The neon lights surrounding the car stabbed at his eyes. He blinked, drinking in the sight and sounds of the Las Vegas strip.

“Yeah, fine. Must have been dreaming. How long did I sleep?” He watched Hutch, still not sure what the hell was going on.

“All the way, buddy. You must have been tired. Didn’t even wake up when I shook you to take over the driving so I could get some shut eye. You were out of it,” Hutch smirked.

He noted how tired and pale Hutch looked. Maybe he hadn’t been dreaming. Hutch could have drunk his blood, turned him into a vampire, then driven them to Las Vegas while Starsky was transforming.

Starsky touched his neck. It felt okay. Hutch didn’t have vampire teeth any more. Then he remembered that he had read somewhere that vampire’s could retract their teeth until they needed them. He laughed.

Get a grip, Starsky. Don’t be silly, of course neither of them were vampires. He’d just had another nightmare.

That’s all.

THE END