I don't own Starsky and Hutch, and I'm not making any money on this. Any library administration portrayed in this story is fictional and not intended to portray any real library.
A piece of pure self-indulgent wish-fulfilment. Slash, strong language, no sex.
No librarians were harmed in the writing of this story.
A Day in the Life, 1993
"You're going to the inner circle of hell for writing this, Mom."
-the author's daughter-
"I'm very sorry, sir, that you didn't find what you were looking for..."
Mary Sue Booker, the chief librarian of this small local branch of the Bay City Library system, strove to keep her voice calm and firm, but inside her stomach churned. I can handle this she thought desperately. She pulled herself up to her full 5' 3" height.
"Damn right I didn't find what I was looking for!" the hostile patron snarled. Alcohol fumes rolled off him. He was obviously seriously drunk, swaying and slurring. "You stupid morons never have anything I'm looking for."
"I'm sorry" Mary Sue said shakily. This confrontation was rapidly veering out of control. "I told you, this is a small neighborhood branch, but if you want me to, the catalog shows they have it at one of the larger branches downtown, and I can put it on reserve for you and have it brought here." She had made the same offer at least twice already during this miserable encounter.
"And it'll take you a whole damn week for it to get here you said" the drunk snarled. "I told you, I need it sooner than that."
"Then you can go and pick it up yourself." Mary Sue fought to keep herself polite and calm. Please, please, let him go and be someone else's problem.
"I'm not going to waste my time going over there." The man's voice had risen to the level of unrestrained yelling now, and the situation had started to attract the attention of the other patrons.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to lower your voice." Where was that useless guard? Probably hiding her fat rump in the bathroom. Of course, the guard contract went to the lowest bidder, so the guards were all underpaid, and not about to stick their necks out. Mary Sue couldn't even blame them. Minimum wage wasn't enough to risk your life for.
"I'm not going to lower my goddamn voice" the drunk shouted, shoving his face aggressively towards hers. Lord, his breath reeks.
"Sir, if you can't lower your voice, I'm going to have to ask you to leave,"
"I'm not fucking leaving. This is a public building and I pay my taxes."
"But we have rules, and you are violating them." Desperate now, but don't show it, don't let him see you're afraid.
"I don't give a fuck about your rules" the man growled. He leaned farther over the reference desk. Mary Sue pressed back against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another patron, the curly dark haired older man who'd been browsing the science fiction section, watching the confrontation intently.
"Sir, you have to leave now" Mary Sue said as firmly as she could.
"I'm not leaving until I'm damn well ready to." A leer came over the drunk's contorted features. "'N when I do, maybe I'll wait for you in the parking lot, cutie."
Oh God. Would he? Things like that did happen. Mr. Chin had been beaten up outside his branch that time, and Ms Brown was assaulted in her own office.
"The lady told you to leave." Another voice, with a heavy New York accent, broke in mildly.
It was the curly-haired browser. Now he stood calmly next to the drunk, but with a wary tension in his solid form.
The drunk turned to face this new annoyance. Mary Sue tried to motion the new man away. This confrontation was getting scarily close to the physical, and she couldn't risk getting a member of the public involved. But he ignored her gestures.
Miserably she wished the damn library administration had been willing to spring for an extension on the desk here, so she could call 911, but the nearest phone was all the way over at the circulation desk across the room.
"You mind your own damn business" the drunk roared. Without warning he swung wildly at the older man. Mary Sue mewled in horror.
The action went faster than she her eyes could follow. The curly-haired man easily intercepted the punch, there was a rapid series of blows, and the next thing she knew, the drunk was lying dazed and semi-conscious on the floor, staring up at the older man who was holding oh my God! a very large gun in his left hand. And, Mary Sue saw with relief, something else in his right hand. A badge. Thank heavens!
"Congratulations, asshole, you just assaulted a police officer" he said in something like satisfaction.
Mary Sue watched, stunned, as he slid the badge back into the pocket of his jeans (very nicely filled jeans, she couldn't help noticing) and produced from somewhere a set of handcuffs.
"You have the right to remain silent..." The police officer ran through the Miranda warning. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to borrow your phone, M'am" he added, as he efficiently cuffed the dazed prisoner to the leg of the reference desk.
Mutely she led him to the circulation desk. "Dial 9 for an outside line" she squeaked.
The policeman dialed. Mary Sue took the opportunity to study her savior. Mmmmm... nice. Tall. About 50, dark brunet starting to go gray, but still in good shape. Amazing blue eyes.
"This is Detective Starsky" he said when the call connected. "I'm at the Maple Street branch of the library, and there was an incident. Can you send over a black-and-white?"
There was a pause. "No, no problem now. Nothing serious. Drunk 'n disorderly, public nuisance, assault, maybe I'll think of a few more things before they get here. Thanks!"
He hung up and turned back to Mary Sue. "Hi, we haven't really been introduced yet. Dave Starsky. My partner and I just moved into the neighborhood." He grinned brilliantly and stuck out his hand.
"Mary Sue Booker" Mary Sue said, taking his hand. Partner she thought. Darn. All the best ones are already taken. But maybe he just meant partner on the police force? "I'm the branch librarian here. I can't thank you enough for helping out." She managed a shaky laugh. "It was getting pretty scary."
"Ms Booker?" Jim Taylor, her assistant, had timidly crept up behind them. "Do you want me to take the desk for awhile?"
Mary Sue looked over at the reference desk, where the handcuffed prisoner was slowly beginning to regain awareness, and considered.
"I think we should wait until the police get him out of here" she decided. "Oh crap!" she added. "I'll have to fill out an incident report."
By the time the uniformed officers arrived to write a report and take the prisoner away, she was ready with her own paperwork. After everything was done, she watched Detective Starsky walk the prisoner and his escorts to the door and have a few final words with his fellow officers.
Suddenly, as he turned back to her, a tall blond man rushed through the door, stumbling to a stop when he saw Detective Starsky.
"Starsk? Everything OK?" the blond said, worry evident in his tone. "I saw the black-and-while pull away."
Detective Starsky made an airy gesture. "Everything's under control, Hutch. I was just doing your job and saving a damsel in distress, is all." He gave another one of the brilliant, crooked grins. "Come 'n meet our local librarian, Ms. Booker."
"Call me Mary Sue" Mary Sue put in, sizing up the newcomer. Even taller than Detective Starsky, about the same age, mustache, and a pair of blue eyes equally as amazing.
"This is my partner, Lieutenant Ken Hutchinson." Starsky said, placing evident proud emphasis on the rank. For a moment hope flared in Mary Sue's heart. He had meant partner in the police sense after all! But then the two men exchanged a glance, and she realized it was a lost cause. Yup, the best ones are always already taken.
Still, she mused after they'd left and the remainder of the day wore on, they were very decorative. And having them around might end up being very helpful to library discipline. None of the other patrons, even the normally rowdy teenagers, seemed inclined to cause trouble for the rest of the day.
And she realized with happy anticipation, Detective Starsky did have to come back, in three weeks, to return his books.