Paco watched as Hutch's fingers lovingly strummed the strings of his guitar. From all outward appearances Hutch seemed like such a refined, peace-loving man. The fact that he was a homicide detective in one of the seediest parts of town seemed an aberration to his gentle persona. The fact that he was successfully paired with a loose cannon of a partner was even more so.
Paco had heard rumors drifting around the department that Starsky and Hutch were strung more tightly together than the strings on a Fender Stratocaster. But he wasn't sure what to believe. As effectively as the two worked as a team, they seemed as different as night and day.
But it was also hard to believe the elegant hands that were creating such beautiful music were the same hands that had pummeled him bloody in the alley before Starsky had pulled him away. Still, here they were relaxing companionably in Hutch's apartment on a Saturday night while Starsky was out wining and dining a sexy model. Apparently all the rumors were just that and it was all in a day's work.
"I have to hand it to you," Hutch said thoughtfully. "You did a great job in helping us solve the Andrea Gutierrez case. You make a good detective."
"I'm flattered, amigo. If I ever decide to switch from immigration to homicide, I'll let you know." Paco leaned back in his chair and lifted his beer bottle to his lips. He was really starting to like this gringo. If he ever did decide to switch departments, he might even consider partnering with him.
"Just one thing, Paco."
"What's that?"
Hutch looked up from his guitar with blue eyes that glittered like ice. The refined, peace-loving man had disappeared and in his place was a deadly stranger.
"Don't ever touch my partner again."
Then the ice melted so quickly back into serene cerulean that Paco wasn't even sure of what he'd seen.
"Another beer?" Hutch asked with a smile.