Introduction:
A few months ago, I was cleaning out an old barn and came across a box with old school papers. My heart skipped a beat, wondering if this contained a treasure I was afraid had been lost. I opened the box and there, in almost pristine condition was the very first Starsky & Hutch FanFic story I had written…in 1977…thirty-nine years ago…when I was sixteen years old… first in longhand and then typed on a typewriter!
It's my pleasure to share this with you. With the exception of a changing a few small things, cleaning up the punctuation and some timing issues (big, special thanks for Sandy for that), I tried to keep the story as true to my sixteen year old self as possible. The names in the dedication are high school friends who also loved the guys and gave me great encouragement as I worked on the story (along with my really cool English teacher).
And, in this special world of Starsky & Hutch, it's amazing how some things just fall into place for a reason. About a year ago, when I got back into the fandom world of Starsky & Hutch, I met a wonderfully sweet lady named Wanda thru a Facebook group. Over time, we have become best friends – never met face to face – but talk daily. We are both Starsky/Paul girls and know, that one day, we will meet him.
Wanda my sweet friend – one time you said you wanted a love story with you and Starsky. A story that will have you two living happily ever after. Well, here is your story darling, your happily ever after love story. Enjoy my friend – Happy, Happy Birthday! Hugs and love to you – Belle! J!
For the Love of Starsky
June 8, 1977
Arlene Corbett
To: Sandra, Jane, Elaine, Theresa, Debbie, Donna, and others too numerous to mention, any my family for waiting so patiently so long for me to finish this story. Thanks.
To Detective David Starsky the ringing in his ears was one of the most horrible sounds in the world. It meant seven o'clock, time to get up. After he cut the clock off, he rolled over on his back. David Starsky was a good looking guy in his late twenties. His brown, curly hair fell limp over his face as he got up. His body was the kind that made girls swoon, he also had the most beautiful pair of blue eyes, at least some girls thought so. You might say he was the kind of guy a mother would want her daughter to bring home to marry. Finally, deciding it was time to move, Starsky headed for the shower, shedding what clothes he had on along the way. Fifteen minutes later he emerged, water glistening on his tanned, leanly muscled body. He walked over to the dresser and put on a pair of faded jeans (Levi's of course), a faded and much worn t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes. Walking to the den of his apartment, he glanced at the wall clock. Realizing he did not have much time to eat, he ran to the kitchen. Looking around, he grabbed a doughnut and glass of root beer and ran out the door.
Starsky pulled up fifteen minutes later in the parking lot of Vinnie's Gym, parking the car beside the only other one in the lot. A brown Ford that looked las if it had been through two world wars. There was a tremendous contrast between these two cars. Starsky's Torino was candy apple red, with a white stripe that was a foot wide and ran across the roof from side to side, just forward of the rear window, down the sides, and then forward to tapered points at the head. The only decoration of the Ford was a contoured round dent on the roof of the car. Starsky chuckled as he remembered how that dent got there.
As he entered the gym, the owner of the brown Ford was coming out of the shower. Detective Kenneth Hutchinson was also in his late twenties, with the same build as Starsky. But, there, the resemblance ended. Hutch, as he was called, was about two inches taller, blond hair and a more gentlemanly air about him. He was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, with brown corduroy pants and boots, all topped off with a tan blazer.
Starsky smiled, thinking of the things they had been through together: poison, heroin, getting shot. He cared a great deal for this blond blintz – more than even his own flesh and blood brother.
"Hi," said Starsky, "you about through beating up your body?"
"Hi," Hutch said, and added with an indignant air, "And I am not beating my body up, I'm keeping it in shape."
"All right, all right, whatever you say," said Starsky.
"Had breakfast yet?" asked Hutch.
"Yeah, I had a doughnut and a root beer on the way over," Starsky answered, walking over to a set of barbells.
"Starsky, you are going to rot your stomach out with that food! It's a wonder you are not dead now!" Hutch said as he poured a green liquid from his thermos bottle.
"Well, I'd rather die of malnutrition that drink that horrible looking stuff. It's a wonder you are not dead from poison!" Starsky said as he tried to lift a barbell, then jumped out of its way when he dropped it loudly on the floor.
"You are impossible," Hutch said shaking his head as he cleaned out his Thermos.
"No," said Starsky, gently stepping over the barbells, "You are impossible, I'm incaragable – at least that's what Dobey said yesterday."
"That's 'incorrigible' Starsky," Hutch said shaking his head. It was always amazing to Hutch how Starsky could come up with his own language – that made sense!
"Come on incorrigible, let's go," Hutch said, grabbing Starsky by his shirt and heading toward the door. "Who drives today?"
"I'm driving," Starsky said, shaking loose from Hutch and heading to the driver's side of the Torino. "My reputation gets ruined more and more every time I get into that pile of junk you call a car!"
Giving Starsky a face, Hutch climbed into the Torino and checked things out. They had numerous things in the car that they needed. A rack under the seat held the red light that was put on top of the car. Tear gas canisters, shotguns, and other things were also checked out. Hutch called Parker Center and logged them in just as Starsky pulled out into the street.
Wanda Peterson was a young girl who had just recently come to the town of Bay City. She was about 25 years old with brownish blond hair and big brown eyes. At this moment though, she was witnessing a scene that would change the rest of her life, being the eye-witness to the murder of a man. She started to slip away, but the murderer saw her. Wanda ran like the devil was at her heels, and he was.
"Hutch," said Starsky, "you have to understand that health food is not my bag. We don't mix. If I want to eat junk food, that's my right, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right, but...hey Starsky! Watch out!" Hutch yelled.
Starsky saw her, but too late. By the time he had screeched the car to a stop, he heard her body hit the car. For a second all was quiet. It was as if time itself had stopped. Then, realizing what he had done, Starsky said quietly, "Oh My God." He shot out of the Torino and ran to the front of the car and knelt beside her. He felt for the pulse, it was weak, but still there, in the background, he could vaguely hear Hutch calling for an ambulance.
"The ambulance is on the way Starsk!" Hutch said. Hutch could tell that she was going into shock. "Starsky, do you have any blankets in the trunk of your car?"
"Oh, no why?" Starsky asked in a daze.
"She's going into shock, we need keep her warm." Hutch explained.
"Here, use my sweater, it's in the back seat of the car." Starsky said. The scream of the ambulance could be heard and it was getting louder. By the time it arrived, Hutch had succeeded in getting the crowd back a safe distance.
All the while this was going on another bystander watched with amusement, an evil sort of smile on his face. "She won't bother me anymore," he thought, "good riddance to her." And he walked off into the shadows.
At the hospital, Starsky paced the floor nervously. "What's taking them so long?" he asked.
"Starsk, if you quit pacing, it won't seem so long. Sit down and relax."
Starsky looked at Hutch and smiled. "Good ole Hutch, always calm and patient when I need him the most, couldn't ask for a better or more beautiful friend," Starsky thought. He walked over to the window and looked out. But, he wasn't looking at what was going on outside, he was looking in the sky and going back in time, back to a time when Hutch stood up to two guns to protect Starsky when he had been shot, back when they were racing against time to find an antidote for the poison that was running through his body. Back to a time when they laughed and cried together. Back to a time of "Me and Thee" when there was no one else to trust, only themselves.
"Starsky, Starsky," Hutch said, laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently. "Captain Dobey wants to talk to us, it's about the girl."
"What? Oh, yeah, where is he?" asked Starsky fully back to this day and time.
"He's over there, waiting for us" said Hutch, jerking his head to the direction of the waiting room. "He has some information on the girl."
Captain Dobey was a large black man, almost six feet tall. He was in his late forties and weighing about 225 pounds. He had a reputation of being a very nasty guy at times, but he had a good heart, Starsky and Hutch knew that and they respected him greatly.
"We found out who the girl was, is, I mean," he corrected himself quickly when he saw the look on Starsky's face. "Her name is Wanda Peterson, age 24. She went to college for about two years, then quit, because she had some kind of trouble. She was majoring in nursing. She hasn't been back to school for a couple of years, guess she's trying to straighten things out."
"What kind of trouble did she have?" Starsky asked.
"We couldn't find that out, not many people know, but one thing's for sure, it's not police trouble. She has a clean record."
Just then, the doctor came into the room. He walked over to the small group of men, anxious and worried.
"Doc, how is she?" Starsky asked anxiously.
"She has a few bruises, a mild concussion, and…" he trailed off trying to find the right words.
"And what Doctor?" asked Starsky, imagining all sorts of things.
"Don't get me wrong, with therapy she should be able to…"
"Therapy?! Did you say therapy?" asked Starsky. "What do you mean therapy, therapy for what?" he asked anxiously.
"She's paralyzed from her waist down," he said quietly. There was dead silence for a few seconds. "When your car hit her, the impact sprained her back and there is excessive swelling. She's going to have to wear a back brace for a while, but like I said, with therapy, she should be walking in a month or so."
"Paralyzed!" whispered Starsky, not hearing a word the doctor had said. "Paralyzed, oh God Hutch, what have I done!" he cried, turning to face Hutch, "what have I done!"