Hullo all, I know I haven't been around much, if at all...I am drowning in school work and life I'm afraid, doggie a bit sick / Anyhoo, this is a bit late, but this was a story written for Kreek for her Birthday on October 11, and I thank her for letting me post it, much love to her and hope you are doing well mon amie.

And the World Keeps Turning

March 25, 1943

"Mike! Slow down! Shit, shit, shit!" the man covered his eyes in fear, and thought better of it and used his hands to grasp the dashboard instead. The brown-eyed driver snorted and swerved left sharply, stepping harshly on the pedal.

"I am not going to miss my son being born, Davis."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." The red-headed man muttered in despair, and cast his eyes towards the heaven "Lord, Lord, I promise…"

"Quit it!"

"Quit it he says, you're driving crazier than usual, and we go on ninety miles per hour car chases, another thing-oof!" Davis slammed harshly onto the passenger door and winced as the high speed continued.

"What was the other thing?"

"I'm going to throw up." Davis whined to his dark-haired partner.

"I'll make it up to you."

"That's right; you're going to name your kid after me." Michael Starsky gulped as he remembered the promise made to Davis when he was shot. Davis made sure his 'last words' were:

"Promise me, you'll remember me?"

"Of course, God-I'll name my kid after you, I promise if you promise to hold on."

"Yea? Yea? All right, I'll hold on…but…just for a little bit…"

The little bit was enough, and Davis lived, of course.

And Davis never forgot his partner's promise.

Unfortunately… Davis' first name was Edgar.

Rachel was not going to be happy.

"You know…" Davis started "I think we have just broken about twenty laws." The man turned to look out the window as they finally parked.

"It's a good thing we're the good guys then." Michael hopped out of his car and bounded up the steps of the hospital, hoping he wasn't too late. He wanted to hear the doctor say "Congratulations, it's a…"

Michael's thoughts faltered slightly, what if it was a girl? He'd never thought of that! Edgarina?

A string of panicked curses filled his mind, as he launched himself to the receptionist.

"Hello, hi…I'm Starsky, Michael…ah Starsky, my wife…? She-she came in, ah twenty minutes ago? She's having a baby….my baby! What room?"

The receptionist looked at her logs, and her brow furrowed.

"What was her name again?"

"Oh, Rachel, her name is Rachel."

"Right, Rachel…Star-ski "she pronounced slowly, trying to get it right. This was her first week on the job. "Room 121" she sighed happily as she found the name. The man leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek to which she responded with a rouge blush.

"Thanks."

"Of course, but sir…" the blonde trailed off as she noticed the retreating figure of the man, "You can't go in…" She shook her head and went back to her logs.

-o-O-o-

"Rachel?" a voice whispered. "Rachel?"

"Michael?" A tired shiver came back, "Have you seen our son?"

"Yes, he's beautiful." And he was, he was already turning around, his eyes wide open, trying to take in everything around him. He was definitely special. Michael strode his way over to his wife's side and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Looks just like you, has your eyes."

"Has your nose." She smiled back and closed her eyes, about to fall asleep, when her love gently prodded her. "What?" She was tired, and the question came out more forcefully than intended. Her eyes softened as she noted his frightened look. "What?" she questioned more softly.

"About our son's name…" Michael wasn't ready for this; the baby was born a week early. "I promised Davis I would name our son after him, now Rachel before you say anything—"

"Why it's perfect! Our little David Michael Starsky…" With that settled she closed her eyes and fell into a nap, not allowing her husband to bother her anymore.

Michael was still standing, his head tilted, wondering what in the world just happened. With a tiny shrug, he leant over his wife, kissed her tenderly on her lips, looked up and muttered a thank you before going back to check up on his son.

28 August 1943

"Calm down Mrs. Hutchinson." The doctor clamped his hand over hers forcefully. "It's going to be tough, but it's coming. It's coming,"

"Oh God, oh God…." She wheezed, she didn't know anything could hurt so much! Why hadn't she passed out? She had from lesser pains, this was a different kind…this was… "Oh God!" she screamed, clutching the bed's handles in pain, as if that would ease it somewhat.

"Steady, steady…" The pain had been going on for hours, her baby was stubborn…he just wouldn't come out. "He's coming, come on Mrs. Hutchinson, a little more, you're doing great…"

"There. There. Good. We got him." The relief came quickly, and Marie quickly sank her head into the pillows. There was a bit of scuffling, and a loud wail. Instantly Marie's heart caught as she heard the sound she created. "My baby." She whispered. "My baby, let me see my baby…" Her pain momentarily forgotten as a sense of awe gripped her.

"We're cleaning him up now, Mrs. Hutchinson. He's coming." The new mother watched in eager exhaustion as the doctor wrapped her son up in a light blue blanket. "Here, you go, here's your son." The doctor smiled as he handed the precious treasure over to her, she looked at him with her clear blue eyes and carefully brought her child closer towards her.

"Richard…?" The words slipped out of her mouth, she had forgotten Richard was away. Wasn't his fault, he was just working for a better future for them. The doctor smiled grimly, and lightly patted Marie's hand.

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes; we've got to make sure your boy is all right…I'll leave you two alone for a little bit, be right back"

"Thank you, Thomas…" As the doctor left with another affectionate glance towards the new life, Marie gently stroked her son's head. Her boy had already stopped crying and fallen into a deep slumber.

"You're beautiful…my little Kenneth…." Marie knew that's what she wanted to name her son, after her brother who had died in the war. She knew her son would be just a good a man as he was. She would make sure.

"My little Kenny." She whispered lightly in his ear, and settled a small kiss atop his forehead. She then held his tiny hand in hers, rubbing it gently with her hand, tears rolling down her cheeks, feeling so blessed…so very blessed.

March 25, 1983

"Listen. Hutch, you gotta hold on…" The wound was bad, and Starsky did not like how the blood was quickly flowing out. "Hey, hey what about Linda? Huh? Gunna let her cry tonight, I know you hate to make her cry?"

"S-starsk? Sorry for the lousy birthday…"

"You kidding? Nah, just keep holding on, I know you can. Just like I held on for you, you got to hold on for me."

"I'm-m not going to-going to lie-it hurts."

"Yea, well you keep holding on, you're doing great buddy…" Tears started to flow down the dark-haired partner's cheeks. He was so blessed to have such a guy as a partner, so very blessed, and he couldn't lose him now…not after all the work after Gunther. It was a stray bullet, it wasn't supposed to happen…

"Starsk…you won't forget me right? You'll always remember me, promise? I know you will…promise?"

"Shut up, will you Hutch? You're going to be fine…"

"P-Promise Starsk?"

"Of Course, buddy…you know I will, and you know what? I'll even name our little boy after you…" a small painful chuckle.

"You were going to anyways, bu-u-ddy. Liz is a great gal." Hutch's eyes slowly began to droop, and Starsky quickly began chattering to keep his attention focused.

"Yea well, I won't if you don't hold on, so you better promise to hold on Hutch. It's my birthday for crying out loud!"

"Yea, all right, just for a little bit…." Already Starsky could hear the sirens wailing in the distance, a huge relief was found in his heart. The curly-haired cop gently began rubbing his hand into his partner's making sure he was still there.

"Yea Hutch, a little bit more…"

And that little bit was enough.

And Hutch lived.

Of course.

The End.