Down A Dark Road
"You're cleared, Ken," Dobey said as he pulled Hutch's gun and badge from his desk drawer. Starsky watched Hutch take them from their superior but saw no expression on his partner's face.
"This is good news, Hutch," Starsky said, forcing a smile. Hutch nodded silently and left Dobey's office. Starsky watched him go then looked back at Dobey who simply shook his head.
Both men had seen Ken Hutchinson sink into a dark place since his ex-wife, Vanessa, had been murdered making him the prime suspect. This latest investigation by IA was exactly what Hutch didn't need. While subduing a suspect, the man had suddenly died in the back of Starsky's Torino and Dryden, Simonetti and the rest of IA was out for blood – Hutch's blood. But an autopsy showing a burst aneurism and plenty of witnesses saying Hutch had not used excessive force were all that was needed to wrap up the case in only two days.
Starsky closed Dobey's door behind him as he went back into the squad room. Hutch was shuffling through files on his desk apparently wanting to act as if the last few days hadn't happened. Ordinarily, Starsky would be glad his partner was ready to put something that distasteful behind him but now…now it was just another set of emotions that Hutch was going to stuff down inside.
Starsky sat down at his desk and watched his best friend. He had used all his tricks to get Hutch to open up and work through what was taking him down that dark road. Starsky had even discussed it with Dobey but since nothing had affected Hutch's work, there was no reason to order Hutch to see the department shrink. When Starsky had suggested it on his own, Hutch blew up and didn't call Starsky that following weekend. Unless there was a lady involved, the two of them rarely missed seeing each other on at least one of their days off. Of course, once Hutch saw Starsky, he apologized for getting mad at him and things returned to near normal. But Starsky could tell it was all an act and continued to worry about Hutch.
Starsky picked up a pencil and doodled on a scrap of paper until Hutch noticed. "What are you doing, Starsk?"
Starsky dropped the pencil. "Nuthin'."
"Well, that's very obvious." Hutch split the stack of files he had and handed four or five across the desk. "Here. Make yourself useful."
"What say we go to The Pits tonight to celebrate," Starsky asked in an upbeat voice.
Hutch continued to flip through the file then looked up, confused. "Celebrate?"
"Yeah, celebrate." Starsky watched Hutch's distracted gaze slide back to the papers on the desk. "You know, about you being cleared by IA." He chuckled but knew it sounded forced.
"Oh that," Hutch replied. He flipped through a few more pages then closed the file. "No thanks. I'm just going to go home tonight."
"Come on, Hutch. It's Friday night for pete's sake."
Hutch picked up the next file then changed his mind and dropped it back in the stack. He looked up at the wall clock. "I'm beat."
"How can you be beat? You were suspended up until twenty minutes ago." Starsky had meant it to be a joke just like they always did but the angry look on Hutch's face told him it wasn't taken that way. "Hey, I'm sorry. I know you've been worked up about things. I just thought a good meal and a few brews would do you good."
The anger on Hutch's face immediately fell away but no other expression replaced it. Just the blank hollow-eyed look that Starsky had seen so of much lately he was beginning to forget what the true Hutch looked like. Starsky gave up and stood up abruptly. "I'll see you Monday." He quickly walked out of the squad room, letting the double doors sway closed behind him. By the time he reached the parking lot, his anger had dissipated just like Hutch's had. He leaned a hip against the side of his car and let out a sigh. After a minute, he looked behind him. He hadn't expected Hutch to come after him but he had hoped. Getting in the Torino, Starsky headed home.
~ S&H ~
On Sunday morning, Starsky got up early and drove over to Hutch's place to try to catch him before he left for his morning run. He was disappointed to see the old Ford was gone. Starsky drove down to the beach and looked around, thinking perhaps his partner needed a change of scenery for his jog. Not finding Hutch there, he headed back to Venice Place to wait for him.
Taking the key from the lintel, Starsky let himself in. He headed into the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on then strolled into the bathroom. Starsky started whistling as he went to the sink to wash his hands but stopped suddenly when he noticed something odd. Hutch's toothbrush was gone from the cup on the shelf near the sink. Starsky wiped his hands quickly and opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. Hutch's razor and shaving cream were also gone.
Dropping the towel, he rushed over to Hutch's sleeping area to check the closet when he noticed the envelope on the bed with the word 'Starsky' scrawled across it in blue ink. Starsky's guts dropped to his feet as he reached for the letter.
I need to get away, Starsk. I hope you understand. I'll be back when I get my head screwed on straight. Hutch.
Starsky stared at the short note then flipped it over as if there might be more. A 'just kidding, see you tomorrow' would have been the only thing that would have helped. He dropped the note. It floated down past the edge of the bed and landed at his feet. Starsky opened the closet and saw the space where Hutch's favorite shirts and his few pairs of khakis had once hung. He stumbled back and basically fell onto the edge of the bed. He wasn't sure how long he sat there staring at Hutch's words lying at his feet. After taking in a deep breath, Starsky pushed himself up and headed out of the apartment without looking back. He slammed the door and locked it, placing the key back in its hiding spot. He almost fell on the stairs as he took them two at a time, suddenly needing to get away from the building. He jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life, and spun it around in a u-turn in the middle of the street full of church goers and families. When a horn sounded loudly to his left, Starsky flipped them off without even looking at them. Smoke poured out from the tires as he sped off.
Once he reached his own apartment, Starsky changed his clothes into sweats and running shoes. He stepped out the front door then turned back and picked up the phone, hastily dialing Dobey's home number. Before he had a chance to try to control his emotions in case one of the other Dobeys answered, his Captain picked up the phone.
"Cap'n, it's Starsky. Sorry to bother you at home but…"
"Everything okay, Starsky?" Dobey's voice was gruff yet Starsky could still hear the concern in his tone.
"No. Hutch is gone."
"Gone? Gone where?"
"I don't know but his clothes and personal items aren't at his place and he left a note…for me. Something about getting his head screwed on straight."
"What in Sam Hill did he go and do that for?"
"I don't know. Look, I just thought you needed to know. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Are you going to try to track him down?"
Starsky shook his head at the receiver. "No. If this is what he needs to do, I shouldn't try to stop him. Hopefully he just went home to his folks."
"Do you think he'll let you know where he is?"
"I sure hope so."
"Well, okay then. I'll see you at the station tomorrow."
Starsky hung up, leaving his hand resting on the receiver for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should go after Hutch or at least try to track him by his credit card or call his parents. This was new territory for the friendship.
The phone rang under his hand and he jumped. "Hutch?"
"Sorry, no." It was Dobey again.
"What's up, Cap'n?"
"I thought you should know, right after I hung up with you, I got a call from the desk Sergeant at Metro. It seems Hutchinson dropped off his badge and gun there."
Starsky pushed himself up straight. "When?"
"Sometime around eight last night."
"Last night?" Starsky clench his hand into a fist.
"Yes. Apparently he gave them a line about me expecting it so they didn't want to disturb me until this morning," Dobey growled.
Starsky slumped against the wall again. By now Hutch could be on a plane or have driven clean out of the state. Deciding he would think it out on his run, Starsky said goodbye to Dobey, locked up his apartment and left.
During his run, Starsky's mind drifted back to their last case before IA got ahold of Hutch. Hector Salidas had killed a girl in cold blood. Hutch had been angry about something that Starsky couldn't understand. When Starsky had asked him what was wrong he had replied, "Hunting down a wounded felon. That's lousy."
Starsky rounded the path near the Little League field then stopped at the water fountain and took a drink. He leaned against the chain link fence and stared up at the sun shining through the trees at the edge of the field. He never did get to ask Hutch what he meant by that. Laura had shown up and Hutch has bristled at the sight of her. She was one of the few women Hutch had allowed himself to get close to but Laura didn't like being with someone who couldn't talk about his work and that sometimes didn't come home on time. They broke up after only a month or so.
"Vanessa," Starsky mumbled to himself. "She was so much like Vanessa. Knew just how to push your buttons, Buddy." Starsky pushed off the fence and began to jog again. After Salidas was killed in Laura's aunt's house, Hutch made a go at wooing Laura back but she wasn't interested. Starsky saw his best friend retreat from the world even more.
~ S&H ~
Three weeks later
"Starsky, ya got that report I need?" Bill Collins called across the room.
Starsky pecked out the final word on the typewriter then pulled the paper from the machine. "Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on."
"Yeah, do us all a favor, Billy," someone quipped and the room erupted in laughter. Starsky snorted a laugh without looking up.
Minnie came over and dropped a stack of files on Hutch's empty desk. "Here's some more for you to add to those statistics Captain Dobey wants." Starsky picked up a pencil and erased a stray mark on the report he had just finished. He put the pencil between his teeth as he skimmed the report. Minnie tapped her fingers on the desk. "Starsky?"
"Huh?"
"The statistics?"
"Yeah, yeah," he replied around the pencil.
Minnie reached over and pulled it from his mouth making Starsky look up, startled. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that was bad for your teeth?"
Starsky snatched the pencil back and dropped it on the desk. "Thanks, Minnie. I appreciate it." He went back to re-reading the report.
Minnie slid past him as she mumbled, "Sure you do."
Starsky got up and handed the report over to Collins just as Babcock headed toward the door. "You coming with us, Starsky?
"Yeah, let me grab my jacket," Starsky answered as Dobey's door opened.
"Can I see you for a minute, Starsky?" It was more of a statement than a question so Starsky waved Simmons and Babcock off.
"Next time."
"Sure, Starsky," Babcock said as he followed his partner out of the squad room.
"Shut the door," Dobey said as Starsky came into the office.
"Everything okay, Cap'n?" Starsky sat down, still very much aware of the empty seat beside him.
"Yes. You've been doing a great job these last few weeks. Those statistics are really helping out. You are being noticed up top."
"Ya mean being noticed for something good for once?" Starsky joked.
Dobey chuckled. "Something like that. But you can't remain without a partner much longer." Dobey watched Starsky shift uncomfortably. "It is only because of the benefit of the work you've taken on that the powers that be haven't been pressuring me to get you a new partner.
Starsky's eyes dropped to the floor. "It's only been a few weeks."
"It will be a month on Monday." Dobey saw Starsky wince and he felt bad. "Just know it is inevitable. I need you back on the streets, not riding a desk." He saw Starsky look up and open his mouth. "I know you've been working with the other teams." Starsky clapped his mouth shut. "Don't try to play me, Starsky." He took a deep breath then continued in a kinder tone. "Still no word from him?"
"No."
"And you don't want to check his credit cards or call his parents?" Dobey asked, knowing they had run through this before.
Starsky sighed. "On the off chance he didn't go to Minnesota…"
"You don't want to spook them, I know."
Starsky once again stared at a spot on the floor. "He knows my number," he said softly.
Dobey picked up a pencil and scratched the side of his head with the eraser end. "I just hope he's okay." Starsky nodded in agreement. "You don't think he'd do something foolish, do you?" He couldn't see Starsky's face but Dobey was sure he saw the shoulder muscles under the man's shirt tense.
Starsky slowly shook his head. "I don't know." His voice was just above a whisper. "I thought I knew Hutch but those last few months…"
"You know that I could take it upon myself to find him?" Starsky nodded at the question but didn't look up. "Dave…" Starsky finally looked up at the use of his given name. "Do you want me to?"
Starsky leaned back in the chair, letting out a tense breath. He looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know. No."
"I'm also getting pressure from up top about filling his position if we don't hear from him."
"I…I realize that."
"Well…that's all then," Dobey said as he pulled some papers out of his inbox. Starsky got up to leave. "And, Dave," Starsky slowly turned toward his superior officer. "If you need someone to talk to. You know, off the record…er, as a friend…"
Starsky gave a pallid smile. "Thanks, Cap'n."
Starsky went back to his desk and sank down in the chair. His eyes avoided the empty seat across the desk just as he had done for weeks. He had tried to go on with his life without his best friend and partner but it had been impossible. A big part of him was hurt. The rest was angry. And all of him was worried. He looked around the room seeing that it was empty. The quiet times were the worst for him. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and quickly left the room.
Starsky drove the streets, trying to pay attention to what was going on around him, looking for something amiss, someone breaking the law. But the unoccupied seat to his right took his attention away. A horn sounded beside him and he corrected the Torino, waving his apologies to the other driver. It was then that he realize where he was. Just a block away from Hutch's apartment. He swallowed hard. He hadn't been there since he'd found the note except to drive by the first week to see if Hutch was truly gone. As Venice Place came into view, Starsky banged his fist on the steering wheel. "Get a grip, Starsky," he said aloud. He pulled into a space just vacated by a red and black Camaro and put the car in park as he looked up at the staircase leading to Hutch's place. In his mind's eye, he saw the blond bounding down the stairs. He blinked and only the empty staircase remained.
Starsky took a deep breath then shut down the engine. He got out of the car and walked around onto the sidewalk as he fiddled mindlessly with his car key. Leaning back against the fender of his car, Starsky looked up at the building. After considering what to do for a minute, he pushed off the car and headed up the stairs. Starsky unlocked the door and stepped inside. The apartment was full of stale air and dust. He looked around and saw all of Hutch's beloved plants were wilted and brown. A pang of guilt shot through him but he brushed it aside quickly. "Ya never asked me to take care of the place," he said angrily. Slowly he walked over to the sleeping area and looked down at the floor. Hutch's note laid just where it had fallen. The closet door hung partially opened and the empty hangers made Starsky's stomach clench the same as it had the first time he had found it that way.
"What the hell am I doing here?" he mumbled. He quickly left the apartment, locking it and storing the key on the lintel. He rushed down the stairs and was on his way out of the neighborhood a moment later.
~ S&H ~
"Long time no see, stranger," Huggy said later that night. Starsky came to the bar and sat down wearily. "You look beat. You just gettin' off work now?"
"Yeah," Starsky replied as he rubbed his tired eyes. When he opened them, there was a beer in front of him. He smiled over at Huggy. "Thanks."
"De nada. Let me get you something to eat." Huggy disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later to find Starsky finishing the beer he had just serve him. He took the glass and refilled it. "Food will be out in a minute." Starsky nodded and took a sip of the fresh beer. Huggy studied his friend for a minute. "Any word?"
Starsky looked up sharply. "I wish people would just quit asking me that." His eyes flashed.
Huggy put up his hands in defense. "Sorry, sorry."
Starsky relaxed. "I'm sorry, Hug. It's just that…"
When Starsky didn't finish his thought, Huggy just nodded his head. "I know. And I know it hurts."
Starsky scoffed then sneered. "Yeah," he said as he took another drink. "It'll fade."
"You're not giving up."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Starsky asked. "He obviously doesn't give a shit."
The cook came from the kitchen with a plate of food. Huggy took it from him, thanking him. He then placed it down in front of Starsky who just stared at it unseeing.
"He does."
Starsky mindlessly picked up his forked and poked at the meatloaf in front of him. "He does what?" He asked as he rested a cheek against his fist and continued to poke at the food.
"Give a shit."
Starsky snorted then took a bite of potatoes. "Whatever."
"Look, I know you don't have to be told this – or maybe you do – but your partner has been through a lot and his needing to get some space and work it out has nothing to do with you."
Starsky had moved onto the green beans. "Gee, Huggy, you should write greetin' cards. I'm all warm and fuzzy inside."
"What I mean is, it doesn't take away from what you and he have."
"And what's that?" Starsky asked around a mouthful of meatloaf.
"A great friendship. A friendship that has always amazed me. Do you know how rare that is?"
Starsky dropped his fork onto the plate with a loud clang and picked up his beer. "Yeah, well, a month ago I would have agreed." He put down the beer. "Well, maybe not then. Four months ago. Hell, I don't know." He pushed the plate away. "We always got through the bullshit together. This time…"
Huggy nodded sadly. "I know you tried to get through to him. He didn't know what was wrong enough to be able to let you help."
Starsky rubbed his hands over his face then downed the rest of his beer. He sat quietly shaking his head in exasperation. "I did try, Huggy. I did."
"He appreciated it."
Starsky looked up at the barkeep. "How do you know?"
"Because he told me. He said you had tried to get him to see a shrink – I found out when I told him the same thing."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The two friends sat in silence for a few minutes. "He's a stubborn son of a bee, isn't he?" Starsky asked.
Huggy chuckled. "That he is. You want another beer?"
"No, thanks." Starsky pulled out his wallet and dropped the money next to his beer glass.
Huggy picked it up. "Maybe I should go into the psychiatrist business." He shook his head and grinned. "'Cause this business sure isn't very lucrative."
"You'd be good at it, too, Hug," Starsky said as he slid off the stool.
"Why don't you hang around a while longer, Starsky? The place will start hopping soon. Relax, play some pool."
Starsky looked around the familiar bar, his eyes skimmed past the booth where he and Hutch always sat. "No. Not tonight."
"Don't be a stranger," Huggy said sadly.
Starsky simply nodded and headed out into the street.
He started home but passed his street. He drove around aimlessly for another hour before ending up at the beach. A van full of teenagers was just pulling away, their speakers blasting 'Carry on Wayward Son.' Pulling over to the side of the road, Starsky watched the moon reflect in the waves crashing onto the beach. Only one dark car was left in the lot. Probably two love birds going for a romantic stroll, he thought then huffed. Must be nice. Starsky jammed the car into reverse and then spun it around to head back to his apartment.
Once there, he stripped off his coat and tossed it on the wicker chair followed by his holster and gun. He grabbed a beer and popped off the cap. He threw it at the trash but missed. He ignored it and went back into the living room. The light glared in his eyes so he shut off the lamp closest to the couch and sat down. He took a long swallow from the beer bottle and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he stared into the darkness. He kicked off his tennis shoes and put his feet up on the coffee table. A knock came from his front door and he jumped. He looked at his watch, tilting it toward the light coming in from the kitchen.
"Who the hell could that be?" Starsky slammed his beer on the coffee table and got up. He pulled open the door. "What?"
"I'm sorry." Starsky stumbled back from the shadowy figure. It stepped closer to him and repeated. "I'm sorry."
Starsky reached over for the light switch and fumbled for it before snapping it on. It was Hutch. A few pounds heavier, a mustache covering his upper lip, but it was Hutch.
"I should have contacted you. I know you're mad. I don't blame you."
Starsky had to grab onto a wall to steady himself. He felt like he had just walked into a stage play in the middle of an act. "Hutch, what are you talking about? What…where?"
"Starsky, I don't blame you if you throw me out this door right now but please don't shut me out."
Starsky finally steadied himself enough to respond. "Shut you out? Shut you out? You took off a month ago, for God's sake."
"Just don't run off this time."
Starsky backed up into the living room. His stomach tightened in a knot. Had his best friend lost his mind? Is that what this had been about? "Hutch, sit down."
A small smile appeared on Hutch's drawn face. "Do you mean it?"
Starsky put his hands to his temples in frustration. "What do you mean? You walk in here after being gone that long and you don't think I'm going to talk to you about it?" His voice was rising and he took a deep breath knowing he was going to wake his neighbors if he didn't pull it together. He watched Hutch move to the couch and sit down. He briefly thought about offering him a beer but after all this time had passed, it seemed a ludicrous gesture – as if nothing had changed. No, Hutch wasn't going to get anything until they talked this out.
"When you took off before, I figured you would never speak to me again."
Starsky came over and sat down on the coffee table. He spoke gently. "Hutch, what are you talking about?"
"Outside The Pits and then again at the beach."
"What?" Starsky looked down, his mind racing. He looked back up. "You were at The Pits?"
"Yes, well – outside. I called to you but you sped off."
"Hutch, I didn't see you. I didn't hear you!"
Hutch leaned forward. "You didn't?" Starsky shook his head. "What about when you saw me on the beach a little while ago?"
Starsky stood up and walked around the coffee table. "What the hell are you talking about? You weren't at the beach."
Hutch rubbed his hands on his thighs nervously. "Yes, I was. I was coming up to my car when you pulled in. Didn't you see me?"
Starsky started pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "Hutch, you weren't at the beach. There was only one car there."
"Yes, my Camaro."
Starsky stopped pacing and faced Hutch. The dark car at the beach. Black and red, just like the car in front of Venice Place. "I went to your apartment today, no one has been there in weeks." The muscles in Starsky's neck were so tense, he felt they were going to snap any minute.
"I went by. I didn't go in. I wanted to find you first. But not at the station."
"About 2 o'clock?"
"Yes, that's about when I was there."
"I was there. I saw…" Starsky quickly walked to the door and looked down at the parking lot below. "That car," he said, pointing down at a red and black Camaro.
"Yes, that's my car," Hutch said, joining him.
Starsky swung around, "No, it's not. Or did the old Ford finally kick the bucket?"
Hutch stood dumbfounded, not sure what to say then his eyes opened widely. "Starsky, have you spoken to Merle since I left?"
"Merle the Earl?" Hutch nodded. "No, why?"
Hutch walked back toward the couch and sat down slowly. "Starsky, I traded in the Galaxie 500 for that Camaro. I thought you knew."
Starsky sat down in the chair by the couch. He felt like the puzzle pieces that had scattered when he opened his front door were finally falling back in place. "When did you get back?"
"This morning," Hutch said contritely.
"So, you were just pulling away from your place when I pulled up."
"I guess so. And when I thought you took off when I called you – that didn't really happen?" Hutch asked. Starsky shook his head. "And you didn't see me on the beach?"
"No."
"Interesting."
"How so?"
"In a city this size, we ended up at the same place three times."
"That we know of."
"True," Hutch replied. He leaned back, not sure what else to say for a moment. "I figured you were pissed at me for taking off."
"Just because what you thought happened today didn't happen doesn't mean I'm not pissed."
"It was a mistake, Starsky. I thought I could work things out."
"Alone." Starsky's voice was just a breath and Hutch nodded solemnly.
They sat in silence for a long time, neither one of them moving until Starsky broke the stillness.
"Say something."
Hutch looked up from the hem of his shirt where he was playing with a loose thread.
"Say something, Hutch."
Hutch's mouth opened and worked for a minute but then closed. He shook his head back and forth slowly.
"I don't want to give up on you," Starsky said. He watched as Hutch's eyes gleamed with unshed tears.
"I don't want you to," he finally choked out.
Starsky looked down and noticed a cast on Hutch's wrist. He looked up angrily. "What happened to you?"
Hutch looked up confused then saw where Starsky was looking. He held up the cast. "Oh, I was hiking and lost my footing."
"Hiking? Alone?" Starsky asked with more resentment in his voice than he could control. Hutch nodded. "What…what if you couldn't…" Starsky stood up and moved away turning his back to the man he had until recently shared everything with.
"I'm sorry."
They were back to that. Starsky spun around. "I would have gone with you. You know all you had to do was ask and I'd have packed a bag…" Starsky couldn't stand to see the pain in Hutch's eyes and turned away again. He was hurt – him – not just Hutch. He couldn't just get over this and welcome the wayward son home. He heard Hutch shift on the couch behind him. "Don't say you're sorry anymore."
"I won't," the wavering voice came from behind him and Starsky clamped his eyes shut and tried to push away the need to let Hutch off the hook. After a few minutes he went back and sat down. Hutch didn't meet his eyes but stared across the dimly lit room.
"What now?" Starsky asked, cautiously.
Hutch glanced briefly at him then looked away again. He shook his head. "I'm not sure. But I want help, Starsk."
Starsky again clenched his eyes shut at the abbreviation of his name. He'd missed it so much. He looked over at his best friend. "Then I'm here for you, Buddy."
The tears pooled in Hutch's eyes broke free and streamed down his face. Starsky went into the kitchen and got two beers and a box of tissues and placed them on the table in front of Hutch who stood up and took hold of his forearm before Starsky could move away.
Starsky felt his knees wobble. He gritted his teeth to tamp down the emotion but the walls were crumbling. He reached over and put his hand on top of Hutch's. "Don't…don't ever do that again, Hutch."
Hutch shook his head fervently, the blond hair swaying. "I won't. I promise, I won't."
"Who you gonna count on out there?" Tears began to slide from Starsky's eyes.
"The same people we always count on. Me and Thee."
Starsky pulled Hutch into an embrace. "Welcome home. I killed all your plants."
Hutch laughed into Starsky's shoulder. "We're even 'cause I keyed your car when I got here."
Starsky pushed Hutch away. "You did what?!"
"I'm kidding," Hutch said as he continued to laugh through his tears. Starsky joined him.
~ S&H ~
A week later Starsky came out of his apartment to wait for Hutch to pick him up for work. His jaw dropped as the old filthy Galaxie 500 pulled up next to him. Hutch jumped out, the horn blaring as he opened the door. "Look, Starsky. Merle never sold my car. He even let me trade the Camaro back." Hutch grinned.
Starsky groaned. "How much did he give you for the nice car?"
"Even trade."
"But you paid three thousand for that Camaro!" Starsky yelled. Hutch nodded happily and got back into the car.
"Come on, we're going to be late."
Starsky yanked open the rusty door, made a face and got it. "I think you should up your psych visits to twice a week, partner. You're certifiable."
Hutch shrugged. "Maybe. I'm just glad to have my car back."
Starsky finally managed to get the car door shut just as Hutch backed out of the parking lot. "Yep, certifiable." They drove along for a few minutes and Starsky studied Hutch. He was definitely looking better and the light in his eyes had returned once they talked things out that first night. There was a long road in front of him – in front of them both – but Starsky was ready to help his best friend traverse whatever came their way.
"What are you wearing, Hutch?"
Hutch looked down at the blue and gold shirt. "What? It's just a shirt."
"A bowling shirt?"
"No…look, you obviously wouldn't understand," Hutch said glancing at Starsky's worn jeans and navy blue nylon jacket. "You wouldn't know good taste if it bit you in the butt."
"Yeah, right."
"Oo, snappy comeback."
"Give me a break, I'm outta practice."
Hutch stopped at a traffic light and looked over to see his partner's face lit up in a huge lopsided grin. "Well, we'll have to work on that, won't we?" With a smile, he continued on down the road.
The End