Me and Thee

146

At four in the morning, Hutch has to deal with an agitated Starsky with an unbelievable story.

 

First published in the Starsky and Hutch AU (alternate universe) themed zine, Timeless 1, in 2003.

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Hutch opened his eyes, wide awake from the moment the first knock had landed on his door. He didn’t move, because he’d recognized the voice, which was shouting his name. Whatever Starsky wanted, it wasn’t a matter of real urgency—more like Starsky getting an idea and being unable to sleep, so he’d come over to share.

At four o’clock in the morning.

Hutch groaned, and pushed himself out of bed. No matter how stupid the idea was, Starsky wasn’t going to go away until Hutch answered the door, let him in, and listened for a couple hours. He staggered out of the bedroom, telling himself that at the first sign of idiocy, he was going back to bed and he’d talk Starsky out of it in the morning. The real morning, after the sun was up.

He opened the front door, and glared. “What?”

“Hutch! You’re awake!” Starsky’s eyes were wild. He was wide-awake, practically bouncing. His clothes were a mess; the same clothes he’d been wearing yesterday, in fact. Hutch woke up a little more.

“Have you been awake all night?”

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

Hutch blinked, and stepped backwards. “Of course. Starsk, what’s going on?” he asked as Starsky moved past him. He expected his partner to sit down, but after pausing beside the couch Starsky suddenly veered away and began pacing.

“Starsk,” he said again, trying to catch his partner’s attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Wrong? Hutch—I’m having the weirdest fucking night.” He focused on Hutch for only a moment, before his gaze darted away. His hands were moving almost constantly, into his jacket pockets then out again, reaching to grab something then stopping before he picked anything up.

“So, tell me about it.” Hutch was still determined to go right back to bed if the explanation turned out to be silly enough.

“I was heading home last night and my car blew a tire.” Still pacing, Starsky began his story complete with extravagant gestures as he waved his arms. “I was only a couple blocks from home, so I just hoofed it. Figured I’d go back in the morning to change the tire. As I was walking past the alleyway, I saw a girl. Musta been 18 years old—short, Indian, like from India. Wearing this fancy, embroidered jacket and really tight jeans.”

When Starsky paused, Hutch grinned and interjected, “And you realized you still like girls?”

Starsky glared at him. “No. I mean, yes, but no. Will you listen to me?”

“I’m listening, Starsk. But talk faster.”

“She killed somebody.”

That surprised him. “And?” he asked, all business.

“And I’ve never seen anything like it, Hutch. Well, I’ve seen it in the movies. Bruce Lee, only this was an Indian chick instead of an Asian guy. Same moves though—all these high kicks and martial arts moves…. I’m tellin’ ya, it was something!”

“I’m glad you were impressed,” Hutch said, dryly.

“Yeah! And then she pulls out this… I dunno. Something. Stabbed him right in the heart. Not a knife, before you ask. Unless it was a wooden one.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because the body disappeared.” Starsky was back to pacing, now.

“Excuse me?” Hutch wondered if he should make Starsky sit down and focus, or if that would only make his story stranger.

“Poof! Just like that!” Starsky made a motion with his hands, as though describing an explosion.

“What does that have to do with it? You could have called me from the station, at least.”

“Hutch, you’re not listening. I didn’t arrest her—”

“What?” Hutch couldn’t believe it. “Why not? She run away? Was there someone with her? Did you get her description out—”

“No! She was alone. She walked off like nothing happened. Hutch—the body disappeared. Vanished, into thin air.” Starsky was looking at him, earnestly. Waiting for Hutch to call him crazy.

Hutch was seriously thinking about doing so. “Into thin air,” he repeated, waiting for the punch line.

“Yep. So I followed her. She ended up at this warehouse where there were more. A lot more. Didn’t look like she was expecting that many, but she didn’t back down.”

Hutch was almost afraid to ask. But whatever Starsky was up to, ignoring him wouldn’t make him be quiet. “More what?”

“Vampires.”

“She led you to a bunch of vampires,” Hutch repeated.

“Technically, I think they’re called a nest of vampires.”

Hutch sighed. “Starsky, if you were going to stay up all night drinking, why didn’t you call me? I could have used a couple beers myself.”

“I’m not drunk! I can prove they’re real.”

It was hard to tell just how serious Starsky was. Normally Starsky didn’t pull these sorts of jokes on him—at four o’clock in the morning. Unless he really was drunk, or had to get revenge on Hutch for something. But Hutch hadn’t done anything to him that Starsky hadn’t already got him back for.

“You can prove they’re real? Vampires are real?”

“I can.” Starsky was staring at him intensely.

“How?”

“I can show you one.”

“Show me one. Starsk, how can you show me one? I thought they turned to dust, vanished into thin air. Or did your friend leave you one for evidence? Got him locked up in your trunk?” Tomorrow morning—after Starsky had slept this off—Hutch was going to enjoy needling him. Possibly for weeks. Or years.

“She didn’t kill them all,” Starsky said, and his tone changed. “She killed plenty of them—turned ’em into dust. Kept fighting no matter how many came at her. I thought…. Tried to help, but regular bullets don’t do much for vampires.” His voice went flat. “They got her. Broke her neck.”

It was hard not to react to that tone. But as serious as Starsky was taking all this, Hutch knew it was impossible. He decided he should have stayed in bed. “So… what? You gonna show me where they sleep? We can take garlic and crosses, and stake them in their coffins.” Hutch could remember staying up late with Starsky to watch Dracula. Apparently, they’d done so one too many times.

“Not exactly,” Starsky shook his head and his mood changed again. He smiled, all cheer again. “I thought I’d introduce you.”

“Intro—” was as far as he got, before Starsky had moved forward and grabbed him. Moved so fast Hutch hadn’t had time to react.

The last thing he heard was “Me and thee, babe.” Then there was nothing but pain.

the end