Chameleon
David Starsky was bored. He lay on his couch eating his favourite chocolate ice cream, and fretting over his enforced medical leave. He was desperate to be back at work, even if it were only desk duty.
He had made a fast recovery, after being shot in the warehouse by that scum O'Connor, and was convinced that much of that was due to Hutch. His partner had, as promised, taken care of him on release from the hospital. Hutch had more or less moved in, encouraging him in his physical therapy, cooking for him, taking him drives, keeping him company. Starsky marvelled at Hutch's patience despite all the moans and complaints he threw at the blond. He was grateful for his friend's support, which had made his life tolerable and even fun at times these last weeks. He couldn't figure out though why Hutch continued to be with him daily instead of going out and having a good time.
Could it still be guilt over the way the Hutchinsons had treated Starsky? Surely it had all been resolved hadn't it? Yet Hutch was prone to guilt trips.
The ring of the phone startled him from his musings and he picked up the receiver. "Starsky," he said.
"How're you feeling Starsky?" Dobey's voice, gentler than usual, asked.
"Much better, Captain," Starsky replied, pleased to hear the concern from his boss. "I got my medical assessment next week. Hope they pass me fit for work."
"I hope so too, Starsky. That partner of yours is driving everyone nuts."
Starsky frowned. He hadn't expected that! " Whaddya mean Captain? He seemed fine this morning. Is he okay?"
There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the phone. "I had to reprimand him this afternoon over an incident in the squad room. It's not just today, Starsky, it's been ever since he went back on duty after you were shot. He's moody and snapping at everyone. No matter who I give him as a temporary partner, he ticks them off big time."
Starsky sat up, worry creasing his brow. For Dobey to call him like this meant that the problems were
serious. "Why didn't anyone tell me, before? The guys who visited me, you…"
"Didn't want to worry you, son. But today things went too far. If it goes on like this, I'll need to consider disciplinary action."
Starsky swallowed hard. This was too much to take in! Hutch was the most professional cop, the smartest guy, Starsky had ever known. It seemed inconceivable that he would behave in such a manner. "Please, Captain, let me talk to him, see what I can do."
"That's why I called you," Dobey said. "I don't want what is potentially one of my best teams finished before they can start."
"Yes sir. Thanks for calling me. I'm gonna come in tomorrow for a while, see what's goin' down."
"Good idea, Starsky, but you take care of yourself. Don't want you to have a relapse."
"I'll be fine, Captain," he assured.
Starsky replaced the receiver then sat back and stared at the ceiling. What was going on and why? Had he been so involved with his own recovery that he hadn't seen, or worse, had ignored his partner's problems?
What kind of buddy am I, he asked himself.
Time passed slowly but finally he heard the key, he had given Hutch, in the lock and the door opened.
Hutch staggered in, laden with bags of food. "Hi Starsk, how're you tonight? I got all the ingredients for your favourite pasta, and I got donuts and more ice cream. Hungry?"
Starsky stood up and looked Hutch over. His friend looked weary under that front of forced cheerfulness. "Hi. I'm okay. You?"
"Fine."
Starsky followed him to the kitchen, watching as he unpacked the food. "You don't have to do this, y'know. I'm a lot better now."
Hutch looked up at him and Starsky noted the dark circles under the blond's strained blue eyes. "I know, buddy, but I want to. Promised your mom I'd look after you, and there's no way I'm gonna risk that lady's wrath."
Starsky nodded. "That's wise but Hutch, after dinner can we talk?"
"What about?" Hutch asked as he busied himself preparing the food.
"Just stuff," Starsky murmured, unsure how to approach the subject.
"Sure," Hutch replied. "So what did you do today?"
"Aunt Rosie was here most of the afternoon. She brought me some of her infamous chicken soup." He pulled a face. "She still feels guilty that she and Uncle Al were on vacation when I got shot."
Hutch chuckled. "So I guess you want me to get rid of the soup."
Starsky smiled. "Yeah, I won't tell her."
A while later, as they ate, Starsky watched him, clearly seeing now that something was wrong with his partner. He cursed himself for being so selfish as to not notice before. "So what happened at the precinct today?" He hoped his question sounded casual.
The blond shrugged. "Nothing special. Mostly paperwork on the Zebrowski case."
"Were you out on patrol?"
"Yeah. A quiet shift."
"How's the new partner doing?"
Hutch flushed slightly and looked away. "That jerk's my ex-partner now."
That was enough for Starsky. There was a serious problem and he aimed to get to the root of it. He'd force it out of Hutch if he had to. "Okay, grab us some beers and let's talk."
He stood up, made his way over to the couch and waited for his partner to join him. Hutch handed over a bottle of coke then sat down on a chair facing him. Starsky grimaced but didn't complain. Due to the medication he was taking, he wasn't allowed alcohol yet and Hutch would never let him break that rule. They drank in silence for a few minutes, Starsky watching his friend and noting the other's depression and restrained anger.
"What's goin on, Hutch?" Starsky asked. "Tell me, maybe I can help."
"It's nothing," Hutch replied, a little too quickly.
"Aw, c,mon, buddy, there's somethin' wrong. I was blind for a while but I see it now. Your problems are my problems. Me and thee, remember?"
"It's nothing," the blond replied.
"Hutch, don't lie to me!" Starsky demanded, angered now. He could deal with most things but not with Hutch lying to him.
Hutch gave a start, bowed his head then seemed to resign himself to the inevitable. "Been thinking about it. My problem is…me and thee. Us. I find it difficult working with anyone else but you now. Other guys drive me nuts!"
"I thought I drove you nuts?" Starsky said, a little gentler, glad that his buddy was trying to explain now.
Hutch glanced up with a small smile. "You do, but that's different. We're friends. I know we've been partners for only a short time but we slipped into such a groove that other cops are like some alien species to me."
"Gee, I'm flattered, but Hutch, you should be able to cope with temporary partners for a while. There's more isn't there? C'mon out with it." Starsky studied his friend; positive he was on the right track.
Hutch rubbed his face with his hands. "Are you interrogating me?"
"If that's the way to get you talking."
"It's the rumours." Hutch flushed again.
"What rumours?"
"About us!"
"What about us?" Starsky asked, confused.
Hutch stood up and began to pace. "That we're more than buddies, that I've m… moved in with you, that we're… gay."
Starsky frowned and shook his head. Shit. Stupid shmucks are always looking for gossip. He controlled his own annoyance, relieved that it was nothing worse, and soothed, "C'mon, Hutch, you shouldn't let that bother you."
"You knew about it?" Hutch accused.
"No, but hey there's always rumours like that goin' about when guys work together. You shoulda heard the stuff that went on in my army unit! The names change but the stupid stories persist. You gotta learn to ignore it."
"Ignore it! To insinuate that our friendship… It just sickens me, that's all. Two guys can't be close without accusations? It stinks!"
"I know it does. I don't like it either but we just have to get on with the job like the rumours don't exist and it'll pass."
"Guess so," Hutch murmured, obviously not convinced.
Realising how difficult this was for his partner, Starsky tried to reason with him. "Look Hutch, I don't care what anyone says. We are who we are and we act how we act. We shouldn't have to behave in any way that ain't natural to us. They're just gonna have to accept us the way we are."
Hutch sighed and sat down beside Starsky. "In a perfect world yes but in the macho environment of the precinct?"
"Screw them," Starsky declared.
Suddenly Hutch's shoulders began to shake and a loud guffaw escaped him. Starsky seeing the funny side of his outburst began to laugh in earnest. After two solid minutes of hilarity, both men quietened and looked at one another.
"Okay, Hutch, give me names."
Hutch frowned, "Who?"
"The guys who're spreading the rumours."
"Why, what you gonna do?"
"I don't know yet but I got a right to know."
"Morton's the worst, my ex-temporary partner," Hutch sneered. "What a prick!"
"Okay what happened today?" Starsky asked
ooo
Hutch released a deep sigh, suddenly feeling better now that this was out in the open. Morton was an older man, who had failed to gain promotion. Embittered by seeing so many younger guys overtake him; he resented the new breed of detectives like Starsky and Hutch. Since being partnered with Hutch, he had tried to take charge but had found his decisions being questioned at every turn. Hutch, who was still greatly relieved that his unique relationship with Starsky was intact, found it increasingly difficult to stomach Morton's arrogance. The tension between them was glaringly obvious to everyone around them.
Lately he had heard whisperings in the corridors; odd glances, sniggering and Morton always seemed to be in the middle of it. All of Hutch's worst characteristics, moodiness, a deadly sarcasm, and aggression, were coming out to play, and this was causing more antagonism between them, which had flared up today in the squad room.
After a long and vitriolic argument and, knowing he was now getting the worst of it, Morton yelled, " Missing your partner, huh? Well it takes all types don't it?"
"What do you friggin' mean by that?" Hutch demanded.
"Well, I bet you ain't getting' any while Starsky's recovering from his wound are ya? But at least you get to live with him. Playin' Florence Nightingale are ya, fag?" Morton snarled. "Jew-lover, are ya? He smirked over at the now, silent watching officers then looking at Hutch, began a vicious anti-Semitic tirade.
"Enough, Morton," one of men tried to stop him. "You've gone too far."
Infuriated, Hutch stalked over and slammed the shocked Morton against the wall, staring down at him from his imposing height. He wasn't going to let any more foul-mouthed bigots spout hatred towards his friend. "No good bastard. Shut your filthy mouth," he snarled, pressing his arm against the other man's throat, careless of the pressure he was using. "My partner took a bullet for me! I owe him my life. It's my responsibility to make sure he recovers."
"Hutch, Hutch. You're choking him!" Hands forced him away. "Relax, Hutch." He staggered back and was shoved into a chair. Pushing them off he jumped to his feet but was held back by two straining detectives and slammed back onto the desk.
"He's dead meat if he ever comes near me or my partner again," Hutch warned his voice cold as ice, but his rage boiling over. "You hear that, you freakin' bigot?"
"What's goin' on here?" Dobey stormed into the room. "What're you men doing?"
"He attacked me, Captain," Morton gasped, doubling over, and holding his throat.
"He deserved it," Hutch glared at his temporary partner, hating him with fierce intensity.
"Hutchinson, go into my office. Now."
Dragging himself to his feet, Hutch obeyed and stood there waiting. He was in trouble, but he couldn't care less. He was still seething at the man's bigoted words, and angry over many things, not the least being the recent phone call to his parents. Blanking that particular thorn from his mind he concentrated on getting his emotions in check.
Dobey walked in, looked at him for a long moment, then sat on the edge of his desk. "I don't care what the provocation was, Hutchinson. I won't allow my officers to brawl in the precinct."
"So I gotta let me and my partner be maligned? Do I let some bigot bad mouth Starsky? Does the department tolerate racism now?" Hutch yelled, as his fragile control burst.
"Hutchinson!" Dobey glared at him. "Any more brawling and I'll be forced into an official disciplinary action."
Hutch gave a start at that threat. His record was clean. A reprimand could harm his career. "Sorry, sir. It won't happen again." He looked down, unable to meet Dobey's eyes, trying to control his surging emotions but it was difficult.
"Okay. As from now, Morton is no longer your partner. Now go and clear that mound of paperwork out there 'til your shift ends."
"Yes, sir. Thank you." A weight lifted from Hutch's shoulders at that reprieve.
"I know you're finding it difficult but you gotta hang in there." Dobey's voice had gentled.
Hutch chewed at his lip, at those compassionate words, and forced his anger down. "Yes, sir."
"How is Starsky?"
Hutch released a deep breath grateful, that Dobey wasn't hauling him over the coals and for his insight. "He's driving me crazy with his demands for ice cream and donuts and cookies so guess he's making good progress. Needs to get back to work but not quite ready."
"Starsky's just a big kid at heart," Dobey commented.
"Yeah." Hutch broke into a smile, his fury cooling as he remembered Starsky shovelling a full tub of ice cream away last night. Just the thought of his partner calmed him down.
As he walked towards the door, Dobey's voice stopped him. "It used to be worse, Hutchinson."
Hutch stopped and turned around. "Sir?"
Dobey sighed. "When I was your age, it wasn't easy for a black cop to get promoted. Things have improved but Starsky, being the only Jewish detective in this precinct, is a prime candidate for the bigots. I know he can take care of himself, and that's something you gotta remember too, but you can be sure I won't tolerate racism here."
Hutch had never thought how difficult it must have been for Dobey to make captain if racism was endemic in the police force. His admiration for his boss increased. "I understand, Captain. Thank you," he said, then left the room.
Morton was sitting at Starsky's desk, rubbing at his neck. Although angered at seeing him there, Hutch ignored him, sat on his own chair and put a piece of paper into his typewriter.
"MORTON, get in here." Dobey's yell sounded through the squadroom.
Startled, the other detective jumped up.
ooo
"So Dobey chewed him out?" Starsky asked.
"Yeah, guess so." Hutch bit at his lip. "I really lost it when Morton… It was sickening."
"Hey I heard worse in the army." Starsky interrupted. "I learned not to let it bother me. After a while, it wasn't an issue no more."
"But my parents… you reacted so badly."
"Yeah, cos they were your parents and then when I thought you were just as bad I kinda freaked out."
"I understand. I'd hate it if you didn't stick up for me." Hutch sighed.
"Hutch, you can't let a shmuck like Morton get to ya."
Hutch looked at his friend, seeing only sympathy in his eyes. When he had first met Starsky at the academy, he had thought him over-bearing, aggressive, like the Mortons of this world. He couldn't have been further from the truth. Well, okay, Starsky was those things when they were called for, but there was a boyish exuberance, a joy de vivre, an endearingly naivety, an honesty that drew Hutch to him. Starsky was a perfect balance to Hutch's more introspective and serious nature. At the Academy, particularly after Colby's departure, they had helped one another, Hutch emerging top academically, whilst Starsky beat him soundly at the practical courses like shooting, combat training and driving.
"Usually I don't, it's just…" Normally articulate, Hutch struggled to find the words. "Jeez, Starsky, our friendship is so great. It's special. After what's gone down it gets me so mad when a jerk like Morton mouths off like that."
"It's jealousy, Hutch." Starsky grinned.
"Jealousy?" Hutch repeated, confused.
"Cos we're so tight. You're right when you say our friendship's special."
Hutch chuckled, "That's for sure. Hey talking with you helps, y'know." It was true. Somehow his partner was able to put things into perspective for him with just with a few words or by his very presence.
"That's cos I'm the perfect balance for you," Starsky stated.
Hutch shivered a little. Had Starsky read his mind? Their relationship was getting spookier by the minute. A warm arm snaked round his shoulders and he looked at his friend now sitting very close to him.
"I'm okay," he said.
"You okay?" Starsky asked at the same time.
They stared at one another and started to chuckle. "This is getting scary," Hutch commented.
"It's some kinda ESP," Starsky decided.
"Aw c,mon, buddy, you don't believe in ESP do you?" Hutch asked, yet he had read some journals on the current experiments in the ability and, even to the sceptic in him, it rang true when he thought of the weird connection he and Starsky shared.
"Why not?" Starsky asked. "We've seen it in action and it can only get better."
"Starsk, you're too gullible," Hutch chided, knowing that Starsky believed in all kinds of weird and wonderful things. His rational mind dismissed his earlier thoughts as flights of fancy. Experiments could be rigged. Starsky's apparent ability to see his thoughts, mere coincidence. Or more likely that his friend, a keen observer, had read his body language.
"Hey, I like that."
"What?" Hutch frowned, not understanding.
"Meant to tell you before. When you call me Starsk. It's kinda nice."
Hutch shrugged. "Okay, chump." Secretly though he was delighted at finding a diminutive he could use the way that Starsky had with his name. Everyone called him Hutch now but it was Starsky who had begun it.
Starsky shifted uncomfortably and moved his arm from Hutch's shoulder. The wound still pained him slightly and that annoyed him. It would eventually not trouble him but the area was still tender and would take a while longer to fully heal.
Hutch's face grew pale with concern. "Hey buddy, are you okay?"
"Just a twitch." Starsky clasped his hands loosely on his lap. "I'm all right. Listen Blondie, I'm real grateful for all you've done but you gotta pick up your own life again. Those lovely ladies you date are gonna be missing you."
"I don't want to leave you while you're still in pain."
What a worrier his blond friend was. Starsky had never known anyone like him. "I can handle it, Hutch. I want you to go home to your place and relax. I'll be fine, I promise."
Hutch turned to look at him and Starsky could almost feel his emotion. "I… Uh.. will if you want me to but…"
"But what, buddy? What's wrong?" Starsky grew concerned. Was Hutch really over the ordeal his parents had put him through, despite apologies and their apparent acceptance of their partnership? Then there was the situation at work. Hutch was usually fairly laid back but defending Starsky and their relationship had tipped him over the edge and Morton had got scalded. Serve him right, Starsky thought. I sure am a lucky guy to have Blondie as my partner.
"Shit! I feel such a fool but Starsk I miss you when I'm out there on the street. I'm out of synch. Can't explain it! Jeez, that sounds wacky!"
Starsky felt his throat close up. Hutch was admitting dependence on him and that was quite a responsibility. "I miss you too, Hutch, but you can't put your life on hold for me. It ain't fair. Anyway I'll be back soon."
Hutch flushed. "I sound so stupid, like I'm a kid or something."
"Hey, we're best buds. You can say anything to me and it won't leave this room," Starsky reassured.
"I know, you told me that in the hospital. I'm still getting used to it all." Hutch shifted about.
He's uncomfortable, Starsky thought, and drew away to the far side of the couch. He sometimes forgot to keep out of another's personal space. It was okay with family or girlfriends but other guys felt threatened by it. In fact he had put it to good use when interrogating suspects.
"Hey where…?"
"Just giving you some space. Don't mean to crowd ya." Starsky sighed, and drew a hand across his face. He was itching to get back out on the streets yet knew he was not quite able. He wanted a return to their first week as partners, before the parents, before the shooting, before all the shit had gone down.
"You d.don't need to move away," Hutch stuttered.
Starsky stared over at him. His partner only stuttered when upset or confused. What was wrong? "I thought…" he began. Did his moving away disturb Hutch? With a grin he slid back to his former place. "It don't bother you," he stated.
"What?"
"Sitting next to me."
"Why should it?"
Starsky shrugged. "Thought it did. Sorry."
"You're confusing me, Starsky. I haven't a clue what you're talking about."
"As long as we're relaxed around one another then that's all that matters. Now go home, and get yourself some action. At least one of us should." Starsky grimaced.
Hutch laughed at him.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. Vicki and Angela, y'know those cute cousins I dated last month, both understand, and they know once I'm fit there'll be no stoppin' me. Look out ladies, here I am! David Starsky, love machine."
"You're incorrigible, Starsk."
"Yeah, whatever, but I mean what I say. I needed looking after when I got outta hospital but you can ease off now. You gotta stop feeling guilty over everything that went down." Hutch reddened and Starsky knew he had hit pay dirt but, just as he been beginning to suspect, there was something more. He could sense it. "Okay, give. What else happened?"
There was a long silence, and Starsky could see the struggle going on in his friend's eyes. C'mon Hutch, you can tell me, he encouraged silently.
"I decided to call my parents, Tuesday night. You were asleep," Hutch explained, hesitantly. "We talked for a few minutes… and I was waiting for them to ask about you."
"Why should they, Hutch? I'm nothing to them."
"Unfortunately, you're right." Hutch swallowed. "But, I thought after everything…I'm such a fool, deluded more like it. People don't change. I challenged them about why they hadn't said a word about you and d'you know what my father replied? ' Mr Starsky is of no concern to us.' I coulda hit him right then." Hutch had gone paler, his hands clenched into fists in his lap.
"I'm sorry, buddy. I don't wanna be the cause of any trouble between you and your folks." Starsky chewed at his lip, upset that Hutch was so distressed.
"It's not your fault, Starsk. Don't ever think it is," Hutch said. "Everything they said or did was just a lie, a cover. I don't know how I didn't see through them!"
"I coulda sworn they were genuine."
"Genuine! My parents are experts in keeping up pretences. I should've realised."
"But why would they do that, Hutch? Makes no sense!"
Hutch turned to face him. "Who knows, Starsk. Maybe it was just an elaborate game. Maybe it was some sick joke. Perhaps at the time they meant their apologies but when they got home thought twice about it all and decided that it never happened. They mustn't lose face at the country club."
His knuckles were white with pressure and Starsky gripped them, murmuring, "Hey, buddy, relax, breathe, it's gonna be okay." He hated how the Hutchinsons could do this to his normally confident friend.
Hutch took a deep breath and unclenched his hands. Starsky, concerned about the strain he saw in his friend's eyes, didn't let go. At this moment he detested the Hutchinsons not only for now, but how they had treated their son as a child. Hutch had told him something about it. Left to the care of nannies and house staff, the young boy had not seen a great deal of his busy parents. His childhood had only been made bearable by the arrival of his sister, to whom he had become close, and by his maternal grandparents whom he visited at every opportunity. He had, though, been expected to fit into the life his parents had planned for him and when he had given up medical school and left for Bay City with his new wife, Vanessa, in tow, they had been furious. Then after a chance meeting with a veteran cop, Luke Huntley, had developed into a friendship a sudden new career path had been chosen that horrified his parents and Vanessa.
Starsky's own childhood had been different. Until his father's death, it had been happy, warm and loving. After that it had been a nightmare of grief and rage. Unable to cope with a son, who was out of control, Rachel Starsky had opted for an extreme solution, sending her beloved child to live with her brother-in-law Al and his wife in Bay City, three thousand miles away. At first he had resented the decision but in retrospect Starsky realised that he had needed a firm hand and had forgiven his mother. Al was a tough, no nonsense businessman and had been an ideal father substitute. He and Rosie had showered their nephew with care and affection. Adding to that was their neighbour John Blaine, a street cop, who had taken him under his wing and instilled in him a respect for the law and reminded him in many ways of his late father.
ooo
"I shouldn't let them get to me, but they just make me so mad," Hutch admitted, trying to restrain his anger.
"I know, but you gotta let it go. If you don't it's gonna eat you up inside."
"You're right but it's not easy." Hutch took a deep breath.
"But you can't let it eat you up, cos who'd take care of me when I'm sick?" Starsky looked at him; all wide blue eyes and innocence.
Hutch grinned at his partner's little boy act, and could not restrain the sudden laughter bubbling up inside him. "I brood too much, I know that, but you're always able to snap me out of it."
"What're partners for, buddy?" Starsky smiled with real affection.
Hutch felt that a weight had been lifted from him. How Starsky was able to do this for him, he couldn't figure but his friend had a magic ability to lift his spirits and soothe his troubles. And, he realised with delight that he was able to reciprocate. He knew his presence through these weeks of recovery had been invaluable to Starsky and was proud of that. They were good for one another. They always had been since becoming friends during the academy days but now, as partners, more than ever it was obvious that they had bonded on a level that was way beyond anything either had known before.
Now, they were sitting together and he would never be relaxed around any other man like this. He grinned a little, wondering what his father, or Morton would make of the scene. The hell with them, he thought, settling comfortably against the back of the couch. Well if you can't choose your family, you can choose your friends.
Starsky sat back and although only their shoulders touched now, Hutch felt pleasant warmth in their unspoken camaraderie. He eased his head to the side, only slightly startled to see Starsky turn to him. They were always doing that now, so attuned, always aware of the other's movements, mirroring one another.
"You know Dobey's gonna have a fit when he sees how long your hair's grown," Hutch said, eyeing the bushy, unruly curls.
"I ain't in uniform no more, I can let my hair grow if I want," Starsky said.
"Yeah, but that's ridiculous!" Secretly a little jealous of the amount of hair Starsky had, Hutch could not help but goad just a little. With his considerable charm, infectious smile, deep blue eyes, the bounce in his walk, his dark, curly hair, Starsky could get any girl he wanted. He seemed to ooze a natural sex appeal that all the guys in the precinct envied and all the women responded to. Hutch had seen the toughest old broads melt under Starsky's attention.
"You're just jealous," Starsky stated. "The ladies love these curls of mine."
He reads me like a book! Hutch thought. "Yeah, yeah," he said aloud.
Starsky laughed and slid down a little, the side of his head resting against Hutch's shoulder. "Y'know, Blondie, if you don't go home I'm gonna nap right here."
Hutch smiled down at the mop of curls; all his protective instincts coming to the fore. "That's fine with me. I'm tired too."
"Gee, we gonna sleep together?" Starsky looked up at him, his eyes twinkling. "What would Morton say about that?"
"He can go screw himself," Hutch answered.
Starsky snorted with laughter then settled his head more comfortably and closed his eyes.
ooo
Next day at the precinct, where Hutch was busy doing routine paper work, the memory of last night with Starsky returned to keep him amused. They both had dozed for an hour or so before Hutch had finally made his way home. His cottage seemed so quiet after being with his partner so much and with mixed feelings Hutch had settled in and gone to bed.
Morton was still around but steered clear of him. Hutch was only too glad he had been allowed to go solo today but he knew it wouldn't last and he would need to make an effort with whoever he was given to work with. Dobey was fast running out of partners for him.
The time passed slowly but he made steady inroads into the pile of reports and soon became engrossed until something intruded into his consciousness. He looked up to see Starsky entering the room. "Hey, buddy, what're you doin' here?" he asked, pleasantly surprised.
"Just droppin' by on my way back from the therapist." He sat on the chair, Hutch pulled out for him, and smiled up at him.
Apart from Morton, the other cops in the room crowded round him and for a few minutes as inquiries and good wishes were exchanged, Hutch stood back and watched, delighted to see his partner back in his rightful place. As the men drifted away, Hutch poured a mug of coffee for his friend and handed it to him.
Starsky thanked him with a nod, then glanced over to where Morton was sitting with his back to him. "Hey Mort, ain't you gonna ask how this wounded guy here is feeling?"
Morton stiffened but didn't reply.
Hutch frowned, wondering what his friend was up to now. He almost spoke then decided against it, waiting to see what would happen.
Starsky sipped at his coffee. "A guy might think that a brother cop didn't give a shit."
The silence in the room was palpable and Hutch knew that everyone was listening. He glanced up to see Dobey standing in the doorway.
Morton turned around. "So howya doin' Starsky?" he asked, his enquiry sounding forced.
"I'm not happy, Mort. You ain't been treatin' my partner right," Starsky said in the voice he normally used for dangerous felons.
"Starsky," Hutch warned, recognising that tone. He shivered a little remembering when it had been directed at him not that long ago. He knew also that he should be annoyed with his partner for fighting his battles for him but somehow it felt good and right. It was their battle. It was Me and Thee in action, and he would do the same himself if the situation were reversed.
Morton swallowed, as if recognising the danger he was in. He glanced around at his fellow officers, at Dobey then, as if realising he'd get no help from them, he tried to bluster, "Aw Starsky, we had some disagreements that's all."
"With my partner! With Mr College boy Hutch who's all polite and respectful to everyone? Hell, he even called me sir at first!" Starsky stared at the other man.
Hutch could not help but grin at that. Others snickered and looked at each other.
"Y'know how it is, clash of personalities." Morton sniffed, and shifted some papers on his desk.
"Well I ain't got no problem with him. We get on just fine, don't we Hutch?" He looked up at Hutch and winked; all traces of menace gone.
Hutch knew Starsky was trying to goad Morton into uttering some more innuendo. "Sure we do, buddy." With sudden inspiration, Hutch took the cup from a surprised Starsky's hand and sipped some coffee, trying not to wince at the amount of sugar in it.
Morton looked as if he was trying to control what he was about to say. "That's… great, Starsky," he finally said, a look of distaste on his face as he looked at the cup in Hutch's hand.
"It sure is," Hutch chipped in, delighted at the man's reaction. "Who'd take a bullet for you, Morton?"
Starsky grinned, looked up at him in perfect understanding now, then, held out his hand for the cup and drank the rest of the coffee.
Moments later, Starsky's manner changed and became menacing again. "Y'see Morton, my partner and me, we're close, real close, ya dig? You insult him, you insult me. I ain't no nice guy from Minnesota. Grew up on the streets of New York, fought in the jungles of Vietnam. That makes me a guy you don't wanna cross. You get what I'm saying?"
Morton paled, and his mouth opened and closed a few times. He resembled, much to Hutch's amazement, a fish stuck on a hook. "Sure, Starsky."
"Yeah, make sure you do." He stared at the other man with piercing intensity, clearly making him uncomfortable.
Morton shifted in his seat and seemed at a loss for words.
"You men no work to do?" Dobey's voice cut in.
Hutch exchanged a glance with Starsky and was about to sit down when they were summoned into the captain's office. His partner's distinctive swagger was back in action, Hutch noted, no doubt for Morton's benefit, but as they entered the office Starsky flashed him a brilliant smile. Hutch marvelled at his chameleon partner; things sure were never dull around him.
"What was all that about?" Dobey demanded, once the door was shut.
"Captain?" Starsky questioned, all innocent now, as he looked over at the older man.
Dobey stared at him for a long moment then shook his head. "You drive me crazy, Starsky. This place has been quiet without you and I'm not saying that's a bad thing."
"Aw, Captain, you've hurt my feelings," he said, looking at Dobey with puppy dog eyes.
Hutch tried to control his amusement, as Dobey almost didn't hold it together. "Go home and rest until you're cleared for work, d'you hear?" he snapped. "And get a hair cut."
"Yes, sir," Starsky replied, all obedient and docile now, but he glanced at Hutch, his eyes twinkling.
Hutch cleared his throat, finding it more and more difficult not to laugh. What was he going to do with his mercurial partner?
"And you, Hutchinson, take him home. Be here early tomorrow. I'm partnering you with Mackenzie. He knows about it and is kinda jittery but it better work out this time."
Hutch breathed a sigh of relief. Mackenzie was a good guy, a new detective, and they got on fairly well. "Yes, sir. C'mon Starsk, let's go."
Both returned to the squad room. As Hutch grabbed his jacket, sandy- haired Eric Mackenzie moved over to them and muttered, "You're one scary, dude, Starsky."
"Little ol'me!" Starsky exclaimed.
"Yeah, little ol'you, buddy," Hutch commented.
"Morton almost pissed his pants," Mackenzie said with a chuckle.
"What can I say?" Starsky replied, "I have this effect on people."
"He deserved it, " Mackenzie said. "Thinks he's better than us, cos he's been here longer."
"Think you can do better with my partner here?" Starsky asked.
"Think I'll have to, Starsky," Mackenzie said, with a grin. "I wouldn't wanna get on your wrong side."
"That's wise," Starsky replied. "You treat him right but don't let him take you to any of his health food places and don't let him feed you desecrated liver or wheatgerm. Makes you wanna puke."
Hutch shook his head in disbelief. "It's desiccated liver! C'mon, Starsky," he said, taking his friend's arm and hauling him away, but gently.
ooo
He and Mackenzie had worked together for two days. The stakeout was tedious. The hours spent in the car with the other detective dragged. They had talked a while: but had few shared interests. Yet what did he and Starsky have in common? Hutch wondered. Very little that he could see yet they were always comfortable with one another, never got bored with each other, and Starsky's constant stream of chatter and jokes were so addictive that he missed them.
Jeez, get a grip! He told himself. Chatter and jokes! Surely that wasn't all his friend came up with. No, he's a fine detective and he's interesting to talk to, we banter and have some laughs. I like to educate him on things but sometimes I wonder if half the time he's knows more than he lets on.
"Hutch," Mackenzie's voice intruded on his reverie. "Someone arriving."
Hutch watched the black Chevy parking across the road. "It's Landers and his boys. We need back-up."
As Mackenzie called it in, Hutch kept his eyes on the men now entering the building. Four of them, armed to the teeth and there were more inside for the meet.
"ETA three minutes," Mackenzie said.
Hutch glanced at him. Let's go. He opened the car door.
"Where you going?"
Hutch shook himself. Hadn't he spoken? "Let's go," he said. "Wait for them by the door."
Mackenzie nodded and followed. They drew their guns and ran across the road, except Mackenzie went towards the same side of the door as he did. Irritated, Hutch motioned him away. When back up arrived in the form of Morton, his new partner Williams and two uniform cops, Hutch groaned. Before Morton could start, he gave a few terse instructions and indicating that Mackenzie should come with him, the others go round to the other side, he opened the door with caution and moved in.
As they went deeper into the building, Hutch felt curiously alone. He couldn't judge where Mackenzie was and that bothered him. In the past with previous partners, he had been the junior member and had followed instructions, now though it was quite different. He and his partner had to make joint decisions and with Starsky there was already a shorthand and, sometimes, silent communication between them that was very effective. It had worked even when they had been at odds with one another. Also he could usually sense where Starsky was
He looked around for Mackenzie. The other man seemed nervous and uncertain so Hutch knew he needed to take the lead. He signalled that they should go into a large room where the deal was going down. Hiding behind some boxes, Hutch peered over the top to see the other two detectives sneaking in from a door at the far end.
Okay, he said to himself. Take a deep breath.
"Police. Freeze," Morton's voice rang out.
"Shit!" Hutch murmured, angry that the other man had called it. Being back up, Morton had no right. It was his and Mackenzie's call but there was nothing to do but go with it. The ensuing gun battle lasted for an unbearably long time. Is it ever going to end? Hutch, wondered, then on suddenly seeing a dark shape loom up on his left, swung around aiming his Magnum. Mackenzie's terrified face stared at him, and he eased his finger off the trigger and dragged his partner to the ground.
"Why'd you sneak up on me?" he snarled. " Nearly shot you."
"Trying to get closer," Mackenzie wheezed as a sudden eerie silence fell in the room.
"Okay, they're all down," Morton said. "Cuff them."
Hutch stood up; his gun still aimed. "Wait," he said.
Morton sneered. "Why Hutchinson? Too scared to do a man's job? Need Starsky to hold your hand?"
Hutch didn't reply as his concentration was on the downed men. His instincts were tingling and then he saw the reason why. One of the perp's hands was easing towards a gun lying nearby. Hutch fired and the other gun went flying. The cops in the room, all jumped back in surprise.
"No, Morton, just being cautious. I wasn't gonna let our boy here kill one of us. Even a moron like you."
Morton stood with mouth open.
"Now we cuff them," Hutch said.
Hutch crouched down beside the man who had reached for the gun and shook his head. "You didn't think you'd get away with killing a cop did you?" He looked up at the still silent Morton. "I said cuff them."
ooo
As they sat on the couch in Hutch's cottage that night, Starsky listened to the story. "Well done, partner," he praised.
"But I coulda killed Mackenzie! I didn't know where he was."
Hutch wiped the sweat from his forehead, and Starsky knew that he needed to convince his friend that he was blameless. "Stop with the guilt trip already. These things happen. You didn't kill him and you stopped another cop getting hurt."
"Yeah but…"
"Yeah, but, nothin'. You did a good job today and you put Morton in his place too." Starsky watched his words sink in. For such a smart guy sometimes his buddy acted like the stereotypical dumb blond. Or maybe he just got insecure at times. No wonder with parents like he had.
Hutch sighed. "You mean it?"
"Yeah I mean it, so don't worry about it no more. As for Mackenzie, you'll get used to working with him."
"But I don't want to, Starsk. I want you back with me." Hutch ran his fingers through his hair. "How pathetic am I?"
Touched by that admission, Starsky rubbed at his face and tried to formulate the right reply. "Hey, what can I say! I know I'm the perfect partner but you gotta get used to Mackenzie, and stay safe, til I'm cleared for active duty. It won't be long now."
Hutch smiled, nodded and retreated into silence.
Starsky watched him, seeing the emotion play across his features and sympathising. He placed a hand at the back of the blond's neck and rubbed gently. They had been friends for years but since the academy had seen less of one another than they had wanted, due to being assigned to different precincts. Also Hutch's difficult marriage had taken most of the blond's time after work. But they had tried to touch base on at least a monthly basis. When, though, had they become so important to one another? Was it since becoming partners? Or had the problems caused by the parents and the shooting cause them to draw even closer to one another. They had closed ranks; that was for sure. Starsky recalled the buddies he had made in the army and in the police force and none of them came close to what he and Hutch shared. He had never held such intense feeling for any other friend and examining that he came to the conclusion that he loved his buddy like family. In fact he felt closer to Hutch than he did to Nick, his brother.
"Is this normal, Starsk?" Hutch suddenly asked.
"Huh!" Starsky murmured, slightly thrown that Hutch had also been thinking about their relationship.
Hutch looked over at him, troubled.
"You mean us," Starsky said, seeing the question in his eyes, and sad his partner had become insecure despite having been fine with everything the other day.
Hutch nodded. "We're so physical with one another. I've never been like this with a guy before. Oh, a handshake but that's it. I don't see other guys acting the way we do."
"You're always gonna find something to agonise over, aint ya, Blondie?" Starsky sighed. Hutch thought too much, that was one of his faults. "Listen, I ain't lusting after your beautiful body and you ain't after mine. Right?"
Hutch broke out into a big smile. "I prefer my dates a little less hirsute," he said, looking at the hairy chest peeking out from Starsky's open shirt.
"What kinda word is that?" Starsky asked with a grin.
"Hairy, Starsk. It means hairy," Hutch replied with an exaggerated sigh.
"Okay then. So what ya worryin' about? It's normal for us to be the way we are. I don't see why we gotta hide it. Hey, I don't see Nick that often but when we do, we're all over each other. Sure I kissed him last time we said goodbye."
"Hey you don't need to go that far!" Hutch spluttered and laughed, before suddenly becoming serious. "Guess it's the different ways we've been raised. I was the perfect little rich kid, blond, cute and clever in his expensive clothes. But don't ever show him affection or allow him to show any. Don't let him romp in the dirt or mix with the wrong sort. Make sure he took his responsibilities to the family seriously and excelled at everything. Go to the right schools, into the right profession, marry the right woman, have two perfect children…"
Starsky was shocked at how deep Hutch's bitterness ran. "You sure picked the wrong sort with me, buddy," he joked, in an attempt to lighten things.
Hutch's response more than surprised him as the blond grabbed his arms and shook him. "Don't ever say that, Starsky. Don't ever put yourself down like that, d'you hear?"
Starsky winced as his healing wound reacted to the other's force.
Hutch immediately released him. "Sorry," he whispered. "Sorry."
Starsky took a deep breath. All he needed was another Hutch guilt trip. "Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Just a twinge, is all. I ain't made of glass."
Hutch studied him and his tension suddenly seemed to lift. "Y'know something, buddy? I've decided I don't care what anyone thinks. If we want to hug each other at the precinct then we will."
Starsky raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah!"
"Yeah."
"Okay," Starsky replied, with a wink. This was more like the confident partner he knew lived underneath the often-troubled blond.
Hutch chuckled and, putting his arm around Starsky, he pulled him close. "To hell with confused masculinity and all that shit."
Starsky made himself comfortable. "You're confused?" he asked.
"I thought I was but guess I'm not. This is great," Hutch replied, squeezing Starsky's arm.
"Sure is. Hey are we gonna watch the game?"
"If you want. Hey, how do go from tough cop to little boy, buddy? The other day I thought Dobey was gonna lose it when you turned on the 'how can you be nasty to a cutesy little kid like me' act."
Starsky shrugged but laughed at Hutch's words. "I guess I'm just irresistible!" he exclaimed.
"You're a chameleon, Starsk."
"A what!" Starsky knew what the word meant but Hutch liked to get into his 'know it all' mode so he played along.
"A chameleon. It's a lizard that…"
"You comparin' me to a lizard?" Starsky sat up, pretending outrage. " Of all the…"
"No, no, didn't mean it that way," Hutch said, all in a rush.
Starsky stood up and began pacing. "Some buddy you are."
Hutch got to his feet, and his concern was clear. "It changes colour so the term chameleon applied to a person means someone who's changeable and adaptable. I wasn't putting you down, I swear."
Feeling guilty about upsetting his friend, Starsky allowed a small grin to emerge. "I know, I was just…"
"Dirtball, you knew all along!" Hutch stated, his eyes blazing now.
"Uh, yeah. Just yankin' your chain." Starsky took a few steps back, a little worried, as Hutch moved towards him. "Hey, injured buddy here. You wouldn't do anything you'd regret would ya?"
Hutch stopped in his tracks. "You sure know what buttons to push, Starsk."
Starsky smiled widely, confident now that Hutch wouldn't try and get back at him. "Who me?"
"Just wait til you're better. You're going to pay."
"Oh no I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"I'm not."
" You are."
"Not."
Suddenly, Hutch burst out laughing. "Jeez, Starsk, you're making me act like a kid!"
"Do ya good."
Hutch flopped back down on the couch. "I know, buddy, I know."
Now that was an admission from his too serious partner, that Starsky found gratifying. Settling down beside him, he stretched out his legs. "So, did you get laid, yet?" he asked with a smirk.
"Starsky!" Hutch exclaimed, sitting up.
God, how he loved teasing Hutch. Due to that still uptight and sometimes puritanical nature, his partner had no defences against it. "Just askin'," he remarked.
"You can ask."
"You can tell me."
"Starsky, are we gonna watch the game?"
"C'mon, Hutch, you can tell me." Starsky wheedled.
"Well you remember Sue?"
"Oh yeah the blonde stewardess with the…"
"Yep that's the one. We had dinner last night…"
"And what happened." Starsky watched his partner intently, waiting for all the gory details.
"Then I took her to the airport for her flight to Europe."
"Gee that ain't very exciting." Starsky settled back on the couch. "If I ain't getting' any, the least you can do is get some and tell me about it."
"Who says I didn't get some!" Hutch said, with a mischievous grin.
ooo
Having been forced to take cabs or waiting to be driven by Hutch, Starsky had missed his independence. Now driving home from work, he was glad to be back in his Torino again. Still on desk duty, he was impatient to be back on the streets with Hutch. Mackenzie was an okay guy, and Hutch had settled into working with him, but Starsky didn't trust anyone but himself to watch his partner's back.
It won't be long now, he reassured himself as he listened to the chatter of the police radio. Another week or two and…
His thoughts came to a sudden standstill as a panicked voice called, "This is Zebra three. We need assistance. Under Fire. Outnumbered. An ambulance. …"
The street Mackenzie stammered out, registered with Starsky and he immediately abandoned his plans for home and headed for that location. Mackenzie calling for an ambulance could mean Hutch was injured.
He picked up the mike. "Control, this is Starsky. Patch me through to Mackenzie."
"Starsky, you're not..."
"I said patch me through," Starsky snarled. Hutch was in danger, and some stupid dispatcher was trying to stop him?
"Starsky, this is Dobey. You are not cleared for this. We'll handle it."
"Captain, I don't give a shit. Is my partner hurt?"
There was a moment's silence then Dobey replied, "Details are sketchy at the moment. Patrol cars will be there any minute now."
"So will I," Starsky said.
"Okay but keep back, d'you hear?"
"Yes, sir," Starsky said, but, under the circumstances, he had no intention of keeping that promise.
Reaching the scene, Starsky, keeping low, scrambled out of the car. He ran over to where three black and whites half -circled Hutch's old Ford. Mackenzie was backed up against it, his gun held between two hands, but where was Hutch? Sporadic fire from the building kept all the officers sheltering by their cars but Starsky couldn't see any signs of his partner.
"Where is Hutch?" he asked the senior uniformed officer.
"Inside. That's all I know."
Starsky swore softly, glanced down the street as an ambulance pulled up, then taking his gun out, crawled over to Mackenzie. The other man was shaking and his face was very pale. Startled to see Starsky, he chewed at his lip.
"What happened? Where is he?" Starsky demanded.
"Don't know. He went inside. I heard a cry then a thud."
"Why weren't you with him?" Starsky snarled. "You're meant to watch his back."
"They started firing. Had to run for cover," Mackenzie explained.
"So you left him alone!" Starsky exclaimed, his worry for Hutch increasing with each moment.
"Had no choice, Starsky."
"There's always a choice." He turned to the uniforms. "Cover me, guys. I'm gonna get to my partner."
"Are you crazy, Starsky?" Mackenzie grabbed his sleeve. "You don't know what's in there."
"Then I'm gonna find out. Cover me. I don't want to catch another bullet."
At his nod all the officers started firing at the building, and, in a sloping run, Starsky made it to the doorway Hutch had gone through. His beretta thrust in front of him, he went into the stealth mode he had learned so well in the army. It was quiet, except for the gun battle raging outside, and his every sense was alert. He flattened himself against the wall, both hands clutching his gun, and looked down the dank corridor. Alarm spread through him on seeing a human bundle at the bottom of the stairs. It was Hutch, his blond hair streaked with dust, unconscious, in a tangle of limbs, his gun a few feet away.
Slowly making his way to his partner's side, Starsky scooped up the Magnum. He looked up the stairs but seeing no one, knelt by his friend. Heart in his mouth he called, "Hutch, can you hear me?" He touched the pulse point on the other's neck and was relieved to find it beating strongly. "Hutch, buddy, wake up. Gotta get out of here."
He stiffened on hearing a sudden noise from upstairs. He had to get his partner out of harm's way. "Hutch, c'mon. I can't carry ya." He struggled to lift Hutch up against him and grasped him round the chest. "C'mon, Blondie. Injured partner here. I need you to help me."
There was a soft moan from the blond. "Starsk…."
"Yeah, it's Starsky. Now c'mon. Move."
In response, Hutch attempted to do as he'd been asked and with an ungainly shuffle, both of them managed to move away from the bottom of the stairs. Starsky leaned against the wall; Hutch propped up against him. His still healing wound throbbed with the effort but he ignored it for they were still vulnerable, and he needed his wits about him. The open doorway seemed like miles away and Starsky knew that he could not get Hutch there by himself. All he could do was wait until rescue came. In the meantime though he had two guns and enough bullets to defend them.
ooo
Hutch tried to open his eyes but it was too difficult. At Starsky's demand he had forced himself to move but it had been too much of an effort, and he had collapsed against the solid weight that was his partner. Starsky! No. His mind must be playing tricks. How could Starsky be here? He was on his way home by now. It must be Mackenzie with him. Yet, Hutch knew, despite how improbable, that Starsky was here.
He was suddenly pushed to the ground. Shots were fired. He fought for awareness. C'mon, you got to know what's going down. His eyelids opened and through blurred vision saw blue-jeaned legs immediately in front of him. Starsky! No one else in the department wore crummy jeans like his buddy. He blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing a bit, and peering round the side of his partner's body saw two men hitting the ground.
"Starsky," he whispered his voice weak.
"Don't move," his partner warned.
Hutch sighed and obeyed. He hated being so helpless but could do little else. He had to have concussion or something for he could hardly function, his head ached badly and he felt nauseousAnger though was theoverwhelming emotion, especially at himself. Dammit, I need to do something. He's still not fit. I need to protect him. There could be more perps on the way down
There was a sudden commotion from the doorway as a group of cops entered. The cavalry had arrived. Knowing that Starsky would be safe now from further attack, Hutch relaxed and watched blearily as two teams passed him on their way to the stairs.
"Starsky, I told you to stay back," Dobey hissed.
"And let my partner get killed? No way!"
Hutch looked up as Starsky stroked the hair out of his eyes. He tried to convey his thanks and Starsky smiled a little and nodded.
"Get the paramedics and protection for them in here," Dobey ordered.
In minutes Hutch was being attended to, but he shut out all the activity going on around him and kept looking over at his partner, now moved out of the paramedics' way but kneeling there as close as he could get. He saved my life again, Hutch realised. Those guys would've killed me for sure.
Then he saw Mackenzie crouching down beside Starsky and there was a heated exchange. He pitied Mackenzie. When Starsky got angry, it was fierce. Moments later, Hutch was bustled into an ambulance and they were on their way. "My partner," he tried to say, but the paramedic told him to relax and he reluctantly complied.
At the hospital and after what seemed an interminable time and amount of examinations and tests, the doctor pronounced his verdict. "Detective Hutchinson, you were very lucky. You have a concussion, some nasty bruises, a sprained ankle but that's all."
Hutch breathed a sigh of relief. "Can I go home?"
"No, I want you to stay in overnight for observation. If all's well you can leave tomorrow."
Hutch bit back his disappointment but realising that he had, indeed, been fortunate, he didn't complain. "Is my partner out there? Detective Starsky?"
The doctor smiled. "Yes, he's very impatient. I'll send him in while we arrange a room for you."
Hutch relaxed at that, suddenly realising how wired he had been. "Thanks, doctor."
A minute later, a curly head peeked around the door. "Hey buddy, how you feeling?"
Hutch smiled as his partner entered the room. "Okay, I guess, thanks to you."
"So what happened? How'd you end up at the bottom of those stairs?"
Hutch knew he was flushing with embarrassment, but he recounted what had happened. "Stairs must have been rotted, my foot went through, my ankle twisted, lost my balance and next thing I knew I was falling. After that, nothing 'til you appeared."
Starsky shook his head. "What a klutz you are! I tore into Mackenzie for not following you. He should've been there."
"I thought he was behind me. Guess he couldn't."
"I would've, no matter how much fire I was under." Starsky looked down and studied his sneakers. "Jeez Hutch, you coulda been killed today."
"I know it but you got there and you took out the bad guys. Thanks, buddy."
"What've I hadn't heard, turned the radio off maybe, or been at home already." Starsky glanced up at him and there was anger and fear in his eyes.
"Starsk why?" Hutch held out his arm. "I'm grateful you were there but you're not 100 fit yet!"
Starsky shrugged. "I don't trust anyone else to watch your back and, as today shows, with good reason. I just knew I had to be there."
Hutch lowered his arm then studied him, wondering why he was standing so far away, his body slightly hunched. Then it hit him. "Oh god, you've hurt yourself. You weren't ready for a gun battle or a concussed partner. You gotta let the doctor look at you. Please buddy."
Starsky hung his head. "I did. I'm gonna be okay. Just hurts a bit."
"Starsky," Hutch said, his voice breaking with pain and a touch of shame at being the cause of his partner's relapse.
Finally, Starsky came over to his side. "Don't you start. I've had a lecture from Dobey already."
"I'll bet," Hutch replied. "Thanks, buddy." He held out his hand, palm up, grateful for this friend who looked out for him. "You saving me is getting to be a habit."
Starsky smiled and clasped the other man's hand. "You can return the favor sometime."
"I will, believe me I will." Hutch knew he had never said a truer word. He would go through hellfire for his unique partner and be privileged to do so.
The door opened and Dobey walked in. Starsky released his hand but looked at the captain defiantly.
"How're you doin' Hutch?" Dobey asked.
"I'm okay, thanks to my partner here." Hutch was going to defend Starsky's actions to Dobey and anyone else if he had to.
Dobey glanced over at Starsky's face, then at Hutch's. "I've been in the force a lot of years. Some teams work together adequately, others never work, and a few, like you boys, have a special partnership. It was a damn fool thing you did, Starsky, but it was brave and you very likely saved your partner's life. I commend you for that." He shook his head. "You're gonna give me grey hairs. I can tell. Okay, Hutch, take the leave you need. By the time you're back, I'd guess your partner here'll be about ready to go out on the streets. Keep me informed of your progress." He walked to the door, turning before he opened it. "And Starsky, take a few days off to recover from your over-exertion today. Oh and one other thing..."
"Yes, Captain?"
"How many times have I told you. Get your hair cut!"
Both men stared at Dobey's retreating back then smiled at one another. "He's got a soft spot for you, Starsk," Hutch informed his partner.
"Who Dobey? That's nuts."
"Is it?" Hutch replied but didn't pursue the point. Starsky might act naïve but was as sharp as anyone Hutch had ever met. In fact he still under-estimated his partner at times so what chance did the rest of the world have?
A nurse entered. "Your room is ready, Detective Hutchinson. We'll transfer you there shortly. Oh, your partner asked me to say he's outside."
Hutch saw Starsky bristle at the nurse's words. "Uh send him in, please." He nodded reassuringly to his friend and saw his tension ease a little.
ooo
Starsky was still furious at Mackenzie for letting Hutch down but it was a slow simmer now, in deference to Hutch's wishes that he cool it. The other man walked in, hesitated when he saw Starsky, and almost meekly walked over to the bed. As they talked, Starsky remained quiet, leaning up against the wall but listening to every word. Mackenzie seemed genuine in his apologies and concern but Starsky couldn't forgive him.
Mackenzie kept glancing at him but Starsky remained silent and just stared back. Let him stew, incompetent jerk!
"Starsk," Hutch called, "Get that look off your face. Mack didn't mean any harm. It went down badly that's all."
He gave a start. Hutch could see right through him but the big lug was just too soft! Hadn't he realised how Mackenzie's non-action had been a risk, a big risk, to his life? He shrugged and studied his feet. He couldn't forget that his partner might not have been here…. He shivered.
"Listen Starsky, I let him down, I know that," Mackenzie admitted. "Bullets were flying all around me. I ran for cover, was too scared to follow Hutch. I wasn't in the army like you. I…" he trailed off and looked at the wall.
"The army got nothin' to do with it. You were meant to watch your partner's back and you failed," Starsky accused.
"Starsk, it happens. It wasn't deliberate," Hutch tried to intervene.
"I admire you, Starsky," Mackenzie said, "You went in there even though you weren't fully fit. You probably saved his life. That kind of heroism ain't in me."
"Heroism! It wasn't heroism. It was looking out for my partner!" Starsky almost spat out.
Mackenzie backed away. "I was right when I said you were one scary dude. I'm sorry I failed you both." He nodded at Hutch and left the room.
"It was heroism," Hutch said, his eyes intent on Starsky.
"You'd do the same for me," Starsky muttered, embarrassed now.
"Yeah, I would, buddy."
Knowing those words to be true, Starsky went over to him. "Me and Thee, pal."
Hutch smiled and clasped his arm. "Me and Thee, buddy."
"I was scared, Hutch," Starsky admitted, knowing he could say anything to this man. "When I knew you were in there, when I saw you layin' there."
"I know, Starsk. I was too, 'til I realised you were there with me. Doesn't feel right, not working with you out there, doesn't feel safe on the streets."
Feeling awkward all of a sudden, and afraid they were heading for a soapy scene, Starsky covered it by starting to joke, "Guess, you're a one partner kinda guy."
"Guess so," Hutch laughed. "Well at least you know I'll be faithful."
"You'd better be," Starsky retorted. "I get real jealous."
"So I've noticed!" Hutch exclaimed, with a grin.
As they bantered, Starsky felt normality had returned to his day and that everything was going to work out fine from now on. They would both be back out on the streets soon as a partnership and, with their remarkable teamwork, would make a real difference. He was looking forward to that with every fibre of his being.
Epilogue
Hutch strummed his guitar. It had been great being back on the streets with his partner today and although he was tired, it was a good feeling. Dobey had been generous and hadn't pushed them back out until both of them were considered fit and able to work together. Their boss was a decent man and for that Hutch was grateful. He had heard some rumours about Dobey's partner getting killed years ago and guessed that was why the captain was so understanding. Hutch wondered if he and Starsky reminded Dobey of his years as part of a detective team.
The phone rang and he picked it up surprised to find his father on the other end.
"Kenneth, are you all right? Your sister told us you'd been hurt."
Hutch wondered why he even cared but answered anyway. "I'm okay now."
"I see," he replied. "What were your symptoms."
"Dad, it doesn't matter now. I told you I was all right."
"Why did Detective Starsky not protect you?" his father demanded. " Is he not as perfect as you like to believe, Kenneth?"
A wave of pure fury swept through his veins at those words. "I was with a temporary partner," he enunciated in a cold voice. "I'd probably be dead if Starsky, despite not being recovered, heard the call on the radio and rushed to rescue me. He put two bullets in the guys who would likely have blown me away. Lucky my buddy is an ex-military sharpshooter isn't it, Dad?"
There was silence.
"Still hard to take that in, eh, Dad? Gone back to your nice safe life where you can forget about your week in Bay City. Can't tell your country club friends about your son's partner can you? Doesn't fit the stereotype you all like to believe in."
"Kenneth, I called because your mother and I were concerned about you."
"Were you? Well thanks for that anyway." Hutch said, knowing his sarcasm was showing. He wondered why his relationship with his parents was so difficult.
"We wish you'd give up such a dangerous job, Kenneth. It's obvious that you're not suited for it. It's not too late for you to return to medical school.""
"Not suited for it!" Hutch fumed. "Are you sure you want me to leave because of the danger, Dad? Isn't it more like you want your son to follow in your footsteps?"
"Kenneth, why do you have to be so stubborn? You were always such an amenable child."
"I grew up, Dad," he replied weary now. "Despite it being a tough job I love being a cop. I feel like I'm making a difference."
"So you put your life on the line each day because you love the job? It doesn't make sense."
Hutch knew his father would never understand but tried to explain anyway. "It's what I was meant to do, Dad. I wasn't cut out to be a doctor. As a cop I have the satisfaction of taking scum off the streets, protecting the public, seeing justice done. With my partner at my side, I'm safe as I can be. He'll make sure of that."
"Well don't come running home if it all goes wrong," his father suddenly snapped.
"Oh I won't be doing that, Dad, you can be sure of it. Goodbye." Angrily, Hutch slammed the phone down and sat back, his earlier contentment gone. Shit! Why does he always do this to me?
As he sat and brooded over the phone call, Hutch grew more and more depressed. Why couldn't he have had normal, loving parents? Why had he and his sister been expected to be perfect little specimens? To be seen and not heard, dutiful little clones of their mother and father? He had escaped but he worried about Karen, five years younger than him and being pressured into marriage with a man from the 'right' social class.
There was a knock on the door. It was getting late and, not expecting anyone, for a moment he wondered who it was. Then he knew. Who else would it be? He opened the door to see Starsky there, a pizza in one hand, and with a big grin on his face.
"Starsky delivery service, sir," his partner said, as he breezed into the cottage. "Just the way you ordered, or would have ordered if you'd ordered. Whatever." With a flourish he placed the pizza box on the table, opened it, and looked expectantly at him.
Hutch's gloom began to dissipate as his partner's exuberance seeped into him. "How'd you know I was just in the mood for pizza?" he asked.
Starsky tapped his head. "I just knew. Spooky ain't it?"
"Sure is, buddy." Hutch picked up a slice and munched it. Starsky could sense a lot of things about him, and there was a real exhilaration in knowing he was understood like that.
Starsky turned a chair around and sat astride it. "You okay?" he asked after a few moments.
Hutch smiled and nodded, "Yeah I am now, buddy."
"What happened?"
"Aw my dad called. We had an argument." Hutch sighed and sat down. Starsky was as perceptive as ever.
Starsky reached over and squeezed his arm. "Wanna talk about it?"
"Later."
"Okay," Starsky said, nonchalantly picking up some pizza.
Hutch settled back in his chair. "Glad you're here, buddy," he said.
In companionable silence they finished the pizza between them.
The end.
