Disclaimer: they're not mine, no money is made.

Writer's Block

Chapter 1

The first thing that made Starsky realize Hutch was up to something was the fact that he carried a little red book with him, wrote something in it now and then and put it in his pocket without saying a word.

The second thing that made him wonder what Hutch was doing, was the fact that his partner kept mumbling things Starsky didn't understand.

But the main reason for Starsky's suspicion was the fact that Hutch seemed to live in another world sometimes and Starsky didn't like that one bit.

"Something wrong, partner?" he asked on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, while they were driving their beat, "You hardly said a word all week."

"Huh?" Hutch answered, "Wait a second Starsk, I'm thinking."

"I can see that, but why don't you let me in on the secret. I'm beginning to feel a little lonely here."

"Huh?" Hutch said again, still in thought.

"Hello! Are you there? Anybody home?"

"Shh," Hutch hissed, "Be quiet, I'm trying to figure something out."

"What?" Starsky snapped, finally getting angry, "What are you figuring out and why don't I know about it?"

Hutch sighed. "It has nothing to do with you. It's something I'm working on."

"Huuutch! If you don't talk to me now I'm gonna have to kill you and tell everybody you drove me mad and I'll plead insanity at the trial and they'll understand why I did it when I tell them you …"

"Starsky!" Hutch yelled, "Breathe!"

" Didn't talk to me for a week." Starsky finished his sentence.

"Are you done?"

"I'm done, but you're not. Start talking to me or…"

"I know, you'll have to kill me and so on."

"Right," Starsky nodded with satisfaction, "I see that the message came through. Now, are you gonna tell me what you're doing or do I have to torture you?"

"You torture me every day with your never ending stories about anything you can think of, so that won't work."

"I could think of something else to force you to tell me what you're doing?"

"I'm sure you can, but all I do is my job."

"Is that so? So, not listening to your partner, the one you work with and mumbling and writing down magic words in a red book is your job?"

"Yeah…well…no but you know what I mean. Stop hassling me about nothing."

Starsky yanked the steering wheel to the right and stopped the car, the right front- wheel on the curb.

"I'm gonna have to throw you out, Hutchinson. It's that or kill you."

"Oh come on Starsk, how're you gonna explain that to Dobey, uh?"

"The same way as I'd have to explain why I killed you, you made me do it!"

"But I didn't do anything." Hutch said exasperated.

"That's why I'm throwing you out of my car. You're not doing anything except annoying me and writing down things without telling me what."

"But Starsk, they're private notes. It's none of your business."

"Since when is something important to you none of my business?"

"I don't know, always I guess."

"That's news to me buddy, I always thought we didn't have secrets."

"Of course we have secrets. I'm sure you have secrets I don't know about."

Starsky said nothing but drove the car away from the curb. Hutch sighed in relief and leaned back in the car seat.

"You know," Starsky said, peering through the window, "there's always a chance I could help you out."

I should have known, he never gives up.

"No, you can't Starsk."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it's…um…oh boy, I'd better tell you I guess."

"I knew you'd come to your senses."

"That's not how I'd say it. I'd say I have no sense at all."

"Of course you have, you're a sensible guy. I should know, I've known you for years now."

"How many years have we known each other Starsk?" Hutch tried to sidetrack Starsky.

"Is this important for the stuff you're writing down?"

"Could be."

"We need a break." Starsky said, "So we can talk about this properly."

"We're in the middle of a shift, we can't just take a break."

"Of course we can. Besides, I think I need to ask Huggy about Donovan."

"Donovan? What do you need to know about that slime ball?"

"Where he is for instance."

"We already asked Hug about him."

"Have to keep up to date with him. You never know what he found out."

"He'd call us when there's news."

"Maybe his phone's out of order."

"Starsky, don't be ridiculous."

"Always be prepared Hutch, never take things for granted." Starsky lectured, "What if there's real hot news and his phone is out of order. What if we catch the weasel because we checked on Hug and found out that he's mugged and lying half dead in The Pits, waiting for us to tell us where Donovan is but…."

"I get it, I get it! Okay, The Pits it is then."

"See? You're a sensible guy. I knew you'd see it my way."

"Yeah, yeah."

Starsky parked the car in the alley behind The Pits and turned to Hutch, "We're here."

Hutch rolled his eyes, "I can see that, moron."

"Come on; let's see if Hug has something to tell us."

"Can't you go and look if he's all right?" Hutch tried, but he didn't have a chance.

"No, we have to go together; I might need back-up."

"But it's raining." Hutch tried again.

"So what, you're not made of sugar, are you? Get out the damn car and hurry, will you."

"Did anybody ever tell you you're a pain in the ass sometimes?"

"Sure they did. Now, come on."

"Okay, hold your horses."

"The horses are on hold but I'm not. I need a drink."

"We're on duty," Hutch muttered, getting out of the car.

"Then I need coffee, suits me fine."

They entered the kitchen and walked right through to the bar, where Huggy sat at a table reading the newspaper.

"Hey, my two heroes. What brings you here this early, my friends?"

"An appetite for coffee and a quiet table." Starsky answered, looking around.

Huggy stood up and waved his arm through the air, "As you see, gents, there are some empty tables."

The bar was empty and Starsky grinned. "Would you bring us two coffees and the Huggy special? You too, Hutch?"

"No, coffee is fine."

"We'll be sitting over there Hug." Starsky pointed at a table at the back of the bar.

"Nice to let me know where I can find you, Starsk. I'd never find you if you hadn't."

"Any time Hug, any time."

Hutch followed Starsky to the table reluctantly. I could turn around and run…

"Forget it Hutch, we're gonna talk, so don't you even try to escape."

"What are you? A mind reader?"

"No, but it's what I would try if you forced me to tell a secret."

They sat down and Hutch felt more anxious by the minute. "It seems that Hug is fine Starsk, can't we just go and finish our shift?"

"No, I just ordered a Huggy special and I intend to eat that. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

Well, it must be that Japanese…Oh shit, let's not get over that again, wouldn't want Hug get involved in a shooting."

Hutch blanched at the memory of that night, not so very long ago, "I don't want to get involved in a shooting either."

"No, I'm sure you won't. So, what's with the red book uh?"

"What red book?" was the almost automatic given answer.

Starsky sighed and let his head rest against the wall behind him. He looked up at the ceiling and said, "The red book you've kept with you for a week now and where you keep writing stuff in. That red book."

"Oh, you mean this red book?" Hutch held up a little, red notebook and opened it.

"Can I see it?"

"No, it's mine and it's private."

"What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine." Starsky said, holding out his hand.

"So the Torino is mine too uh?"

"No, she's not! You don't even like her."

"But you just said…"

"Forget what I said. Since when do you listen to what I say?"

"Can we go on with this after we had our coffee?" Hutch desperately asked, afraid that Starsky would go on and on and that he'd have to explain to Huggy what this was all about.

"Okay." Starsky shrugged, "Ah, here's my Huggy special. Come here delicious burger."

For a moment Hutch hoped he'd forget all about red books but inwardly he shook his head; Starsky wouldn't forget anything and certainly not the mysterious red book.

Almost disgusted he watched his friend eating the enormous hamburger with all the trimmings and some more.

"Don't think I'll look after you when your stomach gives up on you." He warned, "How can you eat that after the lunch you ate?"

Starsky chewed, swallowed and said, "I thought we'd agreed on not talking about lunch?"

Hutch held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, but don't forget I warned you."

"You want some?" Starsky offered, but Hutch was sure he wouldn't be able to swallow down a single bite and shook his head, "No thanks."

"Nervous?" Starsky asked, a smile in his eyes.

"No, why should I be nervous?"

"Maybe because you're about to reveal that big secret of yours?"

"It's not a secret Starsk, it's more…um…it's more something I always wanted to do and now…well, now seemed the right time somehow."

Starsky had finished his Huggy special and looked at Hutch expectantly, "Tell me, I promise I won't laugh."

Hutch picked up his coffee cup, took a sip and blurted out, his eyes closed, "I'm going to write a book and I'm making notes, that's what I'm writing down all the time, notes."

"Wow," Starsky was speechless for once and looked at Hutch with clear admiration on his face.

"You're gonna write a book?"

"Well, I'm gonna try."

"What's it about?"

"I thought I'd write a crime novel. At least, that's something familiar."

"Wow," said Starsky again, "Is it almost finished?"

"Not yet, such things take time."

"When did you start?"

"Last week." Hutch mumbled.

"Last year?"

"No, last week."

"Oh."

There was a silence and Hutch waited for the inevitable question.

"You need help?"

"Don't think so."

"I could do some research for you."

"Starsky, I can do my own research."

"Yeah, but when I do that for you, you can use your valuable time writing the book. Tell me what you need to know. Do you write about real crimes? The ones we investigated?"

"No, that would be unethical."

"Why?"

"Because you can't write a book about people without having their permission."

"But you can make it an auto-biography."

"I don't feel the need to write about my own life."

"Why not? The adventures of two undercover cops. Sounds great to me."

"You're not going to be in the book Starsk and that's final."

"I'm not? But I'm your best friend and your partner. Why won't I be in the book?"

"Because it's not about me or you."

"Too bad. I bet it would have been a best-seller."

"That's the difference between me and you Starsk, you'd write a book, if you could," Hutch smirked, "to make money and fame but I write for the sake of writing. The art of writing is so beautiful when you use the right words in the right…how do you call that…"

"You really have a way with words Hutch, for a writer."

"I need to be in the right mood to write. I can't write over a cup of coffee in a bar."

"What's wrong with my coffee?" Huggy asked from behind Hutch.

Hutch hung his head, "Nothing, there's nothing wrong with your coffee Hug."

"Hutch is writing a book Hug, and I'm not in it."

Hutch scowled at Starsky and gave him the Hutchinson finger. "You are so dead, Starsky!"

"Hey, my man, you're writing a book? You're gonna mention this particular establishment in it? That would bring me so many more customers."

"You two are such philistines, " Hutch fumed, "I'm out of here." He practically jumped from his chair and left the bar without looking back.

"I got the car keys," Starsky grinned, "He'll cool down in a minute."

Huggy took Hutch's chair and sat down. "Is he really writing a book?"

"Sure is. And I'm gonna help him with the research."

"Way to go Starsky! You're gonna be famous."

"Yep and rich. Now I'm gonna see what our writer is doing. Can't let the artist catch a cold now, can I?"

"Keep the man warm and feed him enough to let the inspiration flow."

"You can count on it Hug. See ya."

"See ya Starsky."