This story has been a labour of love for me. i've had the idea for a long time, burning into my soul and I've finally had the courage to write it. I hope you like it as much as I've loved writing it.

Disclaimer: I don't own the guys, but I like to damage them a little!

Feedback: Cherished, sought and always taken to heart! Remember - its only a hobby!

--------22nd December--------

'Can this car actually set off without the tyres squealing Starsk?'

The curly haired detective floored the gas pedal and set off in pursuit of Henry Mears, Bay City's latest drug runner, the big striped tomato side slipping and fishtailing down the road as the siren wailed and the red mars light shone malevolently at the rapidly disappearing felon. Starsky deftly corrected the under and over steer as the blue Pontiac in front ran a red light, other cars screeching to a halt to let the red car through behind. A man pulled his girlfriend ut of the way of the Pontiac at the last minute, falling over her in the middle of the road

'Shit, did you see that? Son of a……just let me at 'em' Starsky cursed as he nursed his Torino through the mess of stationary cars at the intersection.

'Starsky for Gods sake, we need to catch him' Hutch yelled over the top of the sounds of the tortured engine.

'What the hell d'ya think I'm doin' Blintz, hold on' he executed another U turn and set off up the entrance road onto the freeway.

Hutch hung on to the passenger grab and braced his long legs against the dashboard. 'No, I meant we need to be alive to catch him. You're gonna get us killed if ya don't slow…no, you'll never make it' the strangled cry came as the brunette aimed his car for a miniscule gap between two cars going at about 50 miles per hour.

'Starsk! Slow down, we'll never get…..we'll never….oh shit!' the blond closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable impact, but it never came. Instead there was a banshee yell from his partner as the Torino threaded its way through the traffic.

'Jeez Starsk! I didn't think we'd make that. For Gods sake, I want to live to see my old age. It's not worth killing us for. He's a drug runner, not a mass murderer. We'll get him next time'.

But the brunette had the bit between his teeth and was once again hitting the gas pedal, hiking the speed up until the needle on the gauge touched 80. The Pontiac in front showed no signs of slowing, but now Starsky was closing the gap and Henry Mears could see him in his rear view mirror, the curly head pointing forward in concentration, the blond head at the side. Ducking off the freeway at the next intersection, the bright red car followed the drug dealer along a rough road and up towards the hills behind the city. The tyres of both cars kicked up dust on the tight corners and both were forced to reduce their breakneck speed marginally, but the two detectives knew the area like the back of their hand and the curly haired cop used their knowledge to his advantage now as he inexorably closed the gap between the two cars.

'Hang a right up ahead' Hutch shouted as the turning came up quickly.

'Got it' Starsky grunted as he pulled the wheel around and set off again following the rising dust trail down the track. The tyres rattled and bumped over the exposed rocks on the little used track and Hutch chuckled to himself at the barely suppressed gasps and groans from his partner.

'Hey you wanted the chase' he yelled at the scowling driver.

'My poor car! Listen, she's cryin' Hutch. Ya can hear her yelpin' over the rocks. Oh my poor girl!'

At that moment they went over a particularly big rock and the wheel was pulled from Starsky's hands. He grabbed for it and righted the car sending it slewing across the track, but the Pontiac had fared even worse and as the dust settled they could see it on its side in a ditch at the side of the road.

The brunette pulled up sharply, the striped tomato slewing sideways and catapulting Hutch forward. He brought himself up short about an inch from the windshield and grunted as he pushed himself back. Starsky was already out of the car and had his gun drawn. He was squatting down by the side of the driver's door, checking the clip and slipping a bullet into the pipe. He thumbed off the safety and ducked up, looking through the open window at his blond partner.

'Cover me' he hissed as he set off down the road towards the stalled blue car.

Hutch unholstered his own Colt and got quickly out of the car, leaning against the wing of the car and sighting down the length of his arm as he saw his partner approach the Pontiac. He had a moment's clear sight and then the driver was pushing the door open. Starsky saw the movement and stopped, crouching down low as he saw the man draw his own weapon. As the shot rang out, he flung himself into the ditch at the side of the road, rolling over and landing with a bone crunching thud on his back. He gasped, the breath knocked from his body.

Back on the road, Hutch ran forward as the driver got out of his car and bolted for the open countryside. The man was fast on his feet, but the blonde's boots kicked up the dust as his muscular legs powered him after the drug dealer. He sprinted down the track and jumped over the broad ditch, running up the hillside, the breath whistling in his throat. The hillside was steep and the sun hot and Hutch struggled to keep up with the fleeing man, eventually being forced to stop as his vision threatened to leave him, bright sparkles playing around the periphery of his sight. He dropped to his knees in exhaustion, his head hanging down between his arms as he propped himself up, fighting to recover his breath and stopping his legs from trembling. A wave of acute nausea washed over him and with a groan he deposited his breakfast onto the toasted grass at his side, pushing himself away and swallowing down the bitter taste in his mouth.

Moments later, Starsky skidded to a halt at his side.

'Where's the bad guy?' he said, looking around him.

With a shaky arm, Hutch pointed up the hill. 'He went thataway' he gasped, heaving enormous lungfulls of air.

The brunette sprinted off in pursuit of Mears leaving his partner to recover his breath and curse at the flu he'd just recovered from. He waited for a quarter of an hour, slowly letting his breathing and heart rate return to normal and vowing that he'd drag himself back to the gym the next day or die trying. He longed for some cool water to wash away the foul taste in his mouth and shakily, he wiped away the beads of cold sweat that had formed across the bridge of his nose and forehead. Starsky was always better then him at a sprint, but he had always been able to outdistance the brunette in a long chase. But these last couple of days he'd not been able to shake the exhaustion that had left him in bed by 9:00pm each evening and struggling to get up at 7:00am the next morning. Damned Asian flu! He'd been laid low in bed for a week with the chills, fevers and dry hacking cough and had taken another two weeks t get over it. Or he thought he'd gotten over it. Obviously not!

He stood slowly as he saw his partner coming back over the crest of the hill with Mears clutched by the collar of his jacket, his hands cuffed behind his back. Starsky walked down the hill, pausing just long enough to check Hutch was ok before marching his prisoner back to the Torino and pushing him into the back seat.

Hutch limped down the hill behind the brunette and leaned heavily against the car, trying to make it look casual as Starsky did the business with Mears. The drug dealer was whining like a girl as he sat back on the black leather upholstery.

'You got the wrong guy, cop. I don't deserve this! I provide a public service! My customers need me' he mumbled as Starsky pushed him back in the seat.

'If you can't do the time, don't do the crime' he chimed, grinning and looking pleased with himself as he got into the drivers side, and stowed his Smith and Wesson. He watched as Hutch lowered himself into the passenger seat and under cover of the engine asked in a quiet voice 'Are you ok Blintz?'

'Yeah, why?' Hutch replied a little too defensively. He caught himself and then smiled reluctantly. 'It's that damned flu. I can't seem to shake it. I'm just tired. Let's get back to the metro and get this goon processed.

'Yeah, well you were pretty sick there for a while. Just take it easy. D'ya want me to drop you at home before I take Mears in. Maybe ya just need a pick me up huh? I could get Aunt Rosie to send you some of her chicken soup…..or maybe not, but her wonton are to die for. But I can make you some authentic Jewish chicken soup. I got the reci……Hutch? Oh shit, not in the car' he pulled over t the side of the road, and the blind opened the door just in time to deposit more breakfast on the roadside verge.

Starsky rubbed at his partner's back, the man in the back of the car temporarily forgotten in his concern for the flaxen haired cop. Hutch was pale and shaking and a low groan escaped his lips as he sat back up, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

'Oh shit!...haven't felt so sick to my stomach since that last burrito you bought for me from Vinny's' he panted, easing his long legs back into the car. Starsky ran his hand over his partner's forehead.

'Ya seem cool enough. No fever. Maybe you need to get checked out huh? I could take you over to the Doc's. Maybe ya need antibiotics or somethin'.

Hutch rested his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes to stop the world spinning. 'I'll be fine. M'just tired I guess. Don't need to go to the doctors. And anyway, we got our annual physicals tomorrow. I can only face so much poking and prodding. I just need to sleep'.

'Well that's settled it. I'm dropping you at home. I can process him' he flicked his head at Mears 'and then I'll call round later t'check on ya'.

The blond smiled. 'Starsk I'm tired. I'm not dying! Lets just get down to the Metro, do the business then, if you want, you can mother hen me all you like'.

'Did anyone ever tell ya you're a stubborn son of a bitch?' the brunette asked good naturedly as he pulled the car back out into traffic and headed back down town.

'What? Me? Stubborn?' Hutch asked with a straight face. 'Lil' ole me? Nah. You know me Starsk. I'm just a pussy cat'. He chuckled at the "hurumph" from the seat next to him and settled back into the seat, closing his eyes. Within minutes he was asleep, his head lolling slightly to the side.

Starsky slowed down the speed of the car and took the corners more carefully than usual, concern showing on his handsome face as he cast sideways glances at his sleeping partner. He'd never seen the blond so wiped out from an illness. Although the doctor had told him that the flu was a virulent form and that it could take weeks to fully recover. But it was a month ago, and he'd have thought that a usually healthy guy like his partner would have been able to shake off even a nasty flu in that time.

It crossed his mind to ignore his friend's wishes and just take him home, but decided against it. It was one thing to have a tired partner, but he couldn't cope with a seriously pissed Hutch. And that's what he'd have if he ignored what the blond wanted. So he carried on into the city centre and pulled up outside the big stone building in his usual parking place. He leaned over and nudged the shoulder next to him.

'Hutch?'

Hutch screwed his nose up and rolled his head away, so Starsky tried again.

'Hey, Blondie. Wakey wakey! Time to go do some work huh?'

The ice blue eyes cracked open and Hutch stared blearily at the world. He felt worse now than he had before he'd gone to sleep and he dry wiped his hand over his face, taking a deep breath.

'Sorry Starsk. Musta nodded off'. He got out of the car and stamped his foot on the pavement absently trying to get rid of the pins and needles in his toes. Great! Tied, sick and then ya had to sit funny and give yourself a dead foot! He followed the brunette into the building, ignoring the red and white bearded Santa on the sidewalk and bringing up the rear as Starsky escorted Mears up to the interview rooms.

Three hours later, statement completed and paperwork more or less done, they emerged into the darkening evening.

'Home now?' Starsky asked.

'Home now' Hutch agreed, his body longing for his bed and for once even looking forward to his partner looking after him. He was tired, his stomach was empty and the pins and needles in his right foot had now been joined by pins and needles in his left. His day was just getting better and better!