I do not own Starsky & Hutch, nor the characters of Captain Dobey or Huggy Bear, I've just taken them out of my shoe box to play with for a little while. Please don't sue, I dont have any money.

Deliverance

The creature knelt in front of the two men, an exasperated expression on its face, You two cause me endless problems. The voice said.

Hutch lifted his head, his mouth moved but no sound emerged, What? He thought haziliy.

You two. The being shook his head, And what am I supposed to do now? Huh?

But – but we're dead, Hutch swallowed against an already painful throat, Just let us go.

No, nope, doesn't work like that. You're not supposed to die here. You've thrown everything out of synch – do you know how much grief you've caused in Heaven? Paperwork is one thing but there are at least half a dozen different forms that need to be filed. Unexpected death. Death by violence. A Blue slip to allow you to present the Unexpected Death form-

Wait, wait. Hutch would have lifted a hand but he couldn't move, can't you just escort us to Heaven? I mean surely this kind of death is expected. The work my partner and I do- the mention of his partner suddenly made it even harder to breathe. Look, if he dies, I have no reason to live-

We know. And suddenly there were two other Beings next to the first.

Kalaziel, Hutch thought suddenly, managing a slight smile, and then his eyes slid to his left and his mouth suddenly went dry, My Lord. Was all he could manage.

Michael. The Angel said quietly. Greetings, Detective.

With the last of his strength, Hutch managed to gather his thoughts into some semblance of coherence, The job we do – it was always possible that this was going to happen. We died doing our duty, it's expected you know? Can't-can't be helped. Just one of those things.

Not this time, Detective. The angel who'd first appeared to him laid a hand on his leg and he felt a sudden jolt of something and a wave of pain lanced through him, he groaned suddenly and the hand was withdrawn. Forgive me, Detective. I am Marmaroth – I made an amusement before, but what I spoke was truth, you are not meant to die here. Neither of you.

In front of Hutch's astonished gaze, the wings of the three angels unfurled in front of him and suddenly they were revealed in all their glory. He remembered looking up at the three faces and being unable to speak, although if he'd been able to say anything it would have been to plead for the life of his partner. Hands were lifting him, touching him and before he lost consciousness a wave of fire seemed to scour his very soul.

Someone was gently patting his face and he could hear a voice speaking firmly, "Detective, Detective Hutchinson, it's time to wake up now-"

Groaning, he forced open his eyelids to stare up into the face of a dark-haired nurse; brown eyes stared down at him, "There we go, Detective. I'm sorry I had to rouse you but we need to change your dressings."

Dressings he thought hazily, and then thought to look down at himself, bandages covered his chest and most of his upper arm, he looked up at the nurse, "What about my friend?" he croaked.

"Detective Starsky?" she asked gently.

He nodded, suddenly feeling a lump forming in his throat. She gestured to her left and he turned his head to see his partner fast asleep in the second bed, "How is he?" he asked, realising that his voice was very close to breaking.

"He was asking the same thing about you when he awoke this morning," she replied, "now lie still while I unwind these bandages."

He watched half-disinterestedly as his wounds were revealed, three nasty red bullet wounds in his side, and another along his inner arm.

"That one was the most serious," the nurse said, holding his gaze, "you were very lucky, young man."

Hutch nodded absently, trying to think through his piecemeal memory. The nurse gathered together the soiled dressings and smiled down at him, "get some rest, Detective."

As she was about to leave the door opened and Captain Dobey strode into the room. His face lit up when he saw Hutch was awake, "Afternoon, Detective," he said expansively, "how do you feel?"

"Sore, Sir," a rueful smile touched Hutch's lips. "what happened? My memory's a bit fuzzy-"

"You two were damned lucky," Dobey replied, "what were you thinking going after Swanson? And without waiting for backup? You're damned lucky his semi-automatic jammed."

"Sir?" Hutch frowned.

"Apparently when you two burst through the door he fired on you, four bullets injured you, and another four injured Detective Starsky - at which point his gun jammed. When the SWAT Team entered he was frothing at the mouth; still trying to unjam his weapon and cursing the air blue. You were extraordinarily lucky."

"Yes, Sir," Hutch replied, suddenly humbled. "Did we get him?"

"He's cooling his heels in a cell. There was enough evidence in the room behind him to put him away for years." Dobey laid a hand on the blond's arm, "get some rest, Detective. I'll stop by and see you tomorrow."

Hutch nodded and still nodding, slid into sleep. It wasn't as restful as he would have liked, he was dreaming.

He and Starsky were running up the stairs, their guns drawn, just as they broke open the door Swanson opened fire. Hutch gasped, the gun hadn't jammed and a hail of bullets had cut them both down where they stood. He'd regained consciousness slowly, the front of his shirt was wet with blood; Swanson had disappeared, but Starsky was slumped in the corner, the cobalt-blue eyes dull and lifeless. With the last of his remaining strength, Hutch had crawled across to his friend to lay a hand on Starsky's arm.

And he jerked awake, sweating and gasping. A gentle hand took his own and almost without realising it he squeezed it as if it were a lifeline. Gradually his sight cleared and he realised he was looking up into a familiar face, "Kalaziel," he croaked.

"Detective," he said softly, "you were having a nightmare I think."

A soft groan from the other bed interrupted them, and without speaking, Kalaziel moved across to the other bed to take Detective Starsky's hand. Hutch watched as his partner jerked into wakefulness, and watched as the eyes opened and he stared up into the face of this creature, "Christ," he croaked, "Swanson - I-I was dead."

"Yes," the Being replied, "but my colleagues and I intervened."

Starsky managed a faint nod and then the angel had taken the cup from his bedside table and was holding the straw to Starsky's lips, he sucked gratefully and then shook his head, Kalaziel used a towel to wipe the trickle of water that had slipped from the corner of Starsky's mouth. "Thanks," he managed.

"My pleasure," Kalaziel replied, "I came to see how you were both doing."

"We'll be okay," Hutch sighed, "it's just going to take time."

"Yes," a smile touched the angel's lips, "I may be able to help with that. Since you can both recall what really happened I cannot remove those memories; but I can give you the tools to cope with them."

Starsky managed a half-smile, Kalaziel regarded him quietly for a couple of moments and then said, "With your permission, David." Starsky nodded, and Hutch saw him swallow hard. Kalaziel laid a hand on the dark curls and Hutch stared as his partner's eyes rolled back in his head and he sank back into unconsciousness.

The angel remained like that for a couple of minutes and then laid Starsky's hand on the coverlet, he returned to stand beside Hutch's bed, "Will he be all right?" Hutch asked quickly.

"Yes," Kalaziel replied, and spoke again, "with your permission, Detective."

Hutch swallowed hard, "What are you going to do?"

"As I said to your partner," Kalaziel replied, "I shall give you the tools to cope with that event."

"Will we see you again?" Hutch asked, trying to still the tremor in his voice.

"We have marked you both as Warriors of the Light. You will see us again. Are you ready, Detective?"

"No, not really," Hutch admitted, "but if it will help-"

"Such courage," the angel murmured. He took Hutch's hand and almost immediately Hutch felt a wave of peace flowing into him, then Kalaziel gently laid his hand on Hutch's head and said warmly, "It will be all right, Kenneth." And that was the last he heard for the remainder of the night.

It was the ache in his arm and side that woke him, Hutch stirred experimentally and almost instantly realised that wasn't a good idea as a fierce pain shot through him. Groaning he opened his eyes and stared up at the familiar ceiling of a hospital, "Hutch, you awake?" a soft voice asked. He turned his head to see the familiar bright blue eyes of his partner looking across at him, "you all right?"

"I think so," Hutch managed a wry smile, "how you feeling?"

"Sore," Starsky closed his eyes and Hutch thought that he'd fallen asleep again, but the eyes opened and his friend said, "Do you remember-"

"All of it," Hutch replied fiercely, he was about to continue when the door opened and a young nurse entered the room wheeling the drugs trolley, "Good morning, Gentlemen," she said brightly, "and how are we feeling today?"

"Sore," Hutch grumbled.

Starsky laughed softly and moaned as a a streak of pain shot through him, "Christ, Buddy, don't make me laugh."

"Let's get you gentlemen sitting up," the young woman said brightly, "I'm Nurse Eileen Jude, but you can call me Nurse Ellie."

The beds were raised and pillows were stuffed behind both men, then Nurse Ellie presented both men with two little white tablets each and filled up their glasses. "That should ease the worst of the pain," she said brightly, "and then you can both have breakfast."

Both men scowled when she mentioned breakfast, but she merely grinned and wheeled the drug trolley from the room. Breakfast arrived less than two minutes later and both men picked at the meal in front of them.

Nurse Ellie tutted when she returned to find their meal only half-eaten. Both men managed half-hearted smiles before she took the trays and disappeared out the door. Hutch turned to his friend, "How you doing?"

Starsky turned his head and their eyes met, "I'm all right, Blondie. You?"

Hutch shifted experimentally, wincing as stitches pulled, "I'll be okay," he looked across at his friend, "how about you?"

Starsky managed a pained smile, "I'll be okay." He blinked sleepily at his friend, "we were lucky, weren't we partner."

"Yeah, Champ, we were lucky," Hutch replied, watching as his friend slid back into sleep. We were more than lucky, partner, someone up there really, reallylikes us. The rest of the day seemed to pass slowly. Lunchtime came and went although neither man was particularly hungry. Captain Dobey visited that afternoon, Huggy Bear was with him, and bringing to Hutch's joy, a picnic basket.

Starsky was roused and gleefully tucked into a slice of apple pie, Hutch watched him for a couple of moments and then smiled as Huggy presented him with an omelette, "With jalapeño peppers," he said.

"That'll melt your stitches, Buddy," Starsky said, a smile curving the strong lips.

"Oh I hope so," Hutch muttered, his mouth half-full, "I sincerely hope so."

When the picnic basket was half-full and both men satiated and relaxed, Dobey cleared his throat, "Doctor says that you can go home tomorrow, as long as you finish the course of antibiotics; you'll also have to see the 'Shrink'-" he paused.

"Figures," Starsky muttered glumly.

"Yeah, thought as much." Hutch shook his head, "damn silly thing to do."

"Could've lost me my two best officers," Dobey eyed them both thoughtfully. There was something about them, some lightness that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "I'm afraid that I'll also have to put a letter of discipline into each of your files; it was a damn stupid thing you did trying to take Swanson on by yourselves."

Both men regarded one another quietly and then as if some unspoken words had passed between them turned to Captain Dobey and nodded, "Yes, Sir," Starsky replied sombrely.

"It was perhaps – somewhat precipitant," Hutch admitted.

Starsky frowned, "Precipitant?" He queried.

"Hasty," Hutch clarified.

"Yeah, we were," Starsky sighed, "I wanted him so bad I could taste him."

"All of us, Detective," Dobey replied, "but not at the cost of your lives; or putting members of the department in danger."

Both men looked sheepish and nodded, for once silenced. Dobey regarded them sternly and then said, "Right. Behave yourselves and I'll see you tomorrow."

When they were alone Starsky looked across at his friend, "I think we owe our Angels a candle."

"I think that's the understatement of the century," Hutch replied, he looked across at his partner, their eyes meeting and the unspoken words, We are going to talk about this.

"Where do we go from here, Blondie?" Starsky asked softly.

"Where we've always been," Hutch replied, "me and thee. Always."