Disclaimer - Don't own 'em and dang if I don't make money from em.

This story was written over 12 months ago - I just never got around to publishing it and I ound it in my archives. i thought it was probably time it saw the light of day...and I always did like the thoughts of Starsky as a prisoner!

Chapter 1 - Set four months after the events of "Another Chance" and "A Numbers Game" - by this author

The room was grand with a capital G. It was used sometimes as a ballroom but tonight the dance floor had shrunk down in size as large circular tables three deep lined the walls. Each table sat eight guests and each table was swathed in snowy white table cloths with scarlet napkins. The silver cutlery shone dimly in the candle light from the silver candelabras in the centre of each table and the diffuse light from the enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of the room. The room buzzed with the low hum of people enjoying themselves, that quiet buzz as people talk quietly and laugh at someone's joke. And then the band played a fanfare and the crowd quietened expectantly as a man in a black tuxedo with a huge chain of office around his neck took to the stage.

Looking around the room, everyone looked resplendent in their best dress. The women wore cocktail dresses in every colour imaginable whilst the men sat upright in their dinner jackets, crisp white dress shirts and black bow ties. There was an almost palpable air of expensive perfume and aftershave wafting around the high ceilinged room and diamonds and other precious stones caught the atmospheric light, twinkling seductively from the women's ears, necks and fingers.

Two men sat looking distinctly uncomfortable in their tuxedos at one of the tables at the very side of the room. One, a blond, grabbed nervously for a glass of water, almost upsetting it on the table as his girlfriend put a calming hand on his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. The ice blue eyes smiled back at her, although the man looked as though he was going to be physically sick at any moment. The blond looked dashing and debonair in his ensemble, as though he could fit into the millionaire set without too much trouble with his perfectly tied bow tie and crisp pin tucks on his shirt, but his shaking hand and the slight patina of sweat on his upper lip belied the fact that he was more at home in the streets than this hallowed establishment.

Had he followed in his Father's footsteps he would have had to get used to the glitz and glamour of the rich and famous, but the flaxen haired man had long since disappointed the famous Dr Richard Hutchinson by eschewing the world of operating theatres and ward rounds for a life running down the low lives of a certain Californian city.

The second man was running a finger around the too tight collar of his dress shirt and pulling petulantly at his own black bow tie. The dinner suits looked good on both men, their 6' slim and muscular frames showing the cut of the jackets off to perfect advantage but the black suit and white shirt brought out the dark side of the curly haired man sitting like a coiled spring at the table. Not even the twinkle in his devastatingly deep blue eyes could ease the impression of a caged, feral and predatory animal wanting release. There was a dangerous edge to the man, which his own girlfriend found amazingly sexy and she clung to his hand, leaning her body into his as she gave him some much needed moral support. Her hand moved under the dinner table and gave his leg a squeeze. The fact that her hand was distinctly north of decent made Starsky's eyes twinkle even more and he squeaked quietly.

'Careful' he hissed. 'You'll want to keep 'em in good shape for later'. He winked at her and she melted against him, imprisoned by the indigo eyes.

Having said all there was to say about their appearance, anyone mentioning the idea of debonair, or feral and predatory to the two cops in question would have been met by an embarrassed smile a clever one liner and a quick exit. The two men did not like the limelight and had it not been for the insistence of their boss, they would never have attended the civic ceremony. They both gazed up at the party on the stage at the front of the room now with a mixture of amusement and dread and Starsky started to curl the edge of his napkin round as he waited for the dreaded moment.

The deep voice from the microphone came to the end of its rambling speech and Captain Dobey, who was sitting right of centre on the stage opened his eyes and sat up straighter. 'And so ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure……'

'Three times a week and twice on Sundays' Starsky muttered into Hutch's ear as his partner tried to keep a straight face.

'….to award this year's Gallantry Medals for Bravery in the Face of Adversity to Detective Sergeant First Class David Starsky and Detective Sergeant First Class Kenneth Hutchinson. Gentlemen, please come on up' the Mayor called to the two furiously blushing men.

'Have I mentioned recently how much I hate this part of the job?' Hutch whined as they got up from their seats at the large round table and headed towards the Mayor.

'Not as you'd notice. Only a few hundred times in the past day' the brunet grinned as they threaded their way through the chairs and tables to the front of the large room, accompanied by applause and cheers from the crowd.

As they mounted the steps up onto the stage Hutch's control almost snapped. His head had been full of acceptance speeches and the like and he was concentrating on getting this right without falling over his own feet or stammering himself into oblivion. But all serious thoughts were driven from his head as he caught sight of his partner's feet. Starsky might look damned fine in his black suit and white shirt, the colours highlighting his olive toned skin and curly, mahogany hair, but who in their right mind would top the formal ensemble with a pair of blue Adidas running shoes? Hutch shook his head. Why did he mention anyone "in their right mind"? His partner would never fall into that category anyway!

The cops made their way quickly onto the stage, hoping for a quick bow, a wave and then an escape. But the Mayor had other ideas in store and stood between the two men holding onto their arms and beaming as cameras flashed and the crowd continued to applaud.

Finally he raised his hand and there was silence in the room. With great dignity the Chief of Police came forward with two beautiful burr walnut boxes and stood by the side of the nervous and embarrassed detectives as the Mayor opened the first box.

'Ladies and gentlemen, Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky worked together for four months to infiltrate and bring down the notorious Northern Stars Group, leaving them both seriously injured. As you can see today, they have both fortunately made a full recovery which is a testament to their drive and initiative. But more to the point, the group has been disbanded and the prime movers in the cell have been arrested, tried and convicted of serious crimes against Bay City's community'.

He turned to the two men and motioned for Hutch to come forward first.

'Detective Starsky, please accept this medal as a token of the City's appreciation for all you have done' he hung the medal over Hutch's head as the blond bowed slightly to accommodate the Mayor's 5'6" height.

'Um, Hutchinson' Hutch whispered to the Mayor who was still beaming at him.

'What?'

'I'm Hutchinson. He's Starsky'.

'Ah, yes, well! Detective Hutchinson?' he nodded at Starsky who grinned at his partner. He took a step forward.

The Mayor seemed a little confused and lost for words, but covered it well. 'Detective Hutchinson, the same goes for you. The City is honoured to employ two such brave and resilient detectives!'

Both detectives stood for another moment at the side of the Mayor, looking distinctly uncomfortable as they did a quick little bow and then made the quickest getaway they'd ever used to hot foot it down the steps and back to oblivion at their table. Sitting down, they each took off their medals, swapped, and put them into the wooden boxes, closing the lids tight, not to see the light of day again for quite some time. That wasn't their way. While they were two of the best detectives in Bay City, they wanted nothing more than to be back out on the streets, working together. The awards and ceremonies meant very little to them and the medal was just something else that they'd put in a drawer and maybe bring out to show the grandchildren.

'Thank God that's over. Where's the food?' Starsky asked looking around expectantly.

'You mean you can still eat after all that humiliation?' Hutch asked.

'Hey, my Mom always said a little humiliation is good for the soul. Especially when it's accompanied by a four course meal right afterwards. Four courses….four' his partner balled his hands into fists and sighed, then grinned. 'Sorry – the not counting thing is still a work in progress! Look on the bright side, you didn't fall off the stage and you didn't need to go through your acceptance speech'.

'No, but I spent all night getting it ready. And then I didn't get to use it!' the blond whined and then smiled fondly at his partner. In the preceding months both he and Starsky had had to recover from their injuries – Hutch from being shot in the head and Starsky from being tortured to the brink of insanity. Hutch had recently come out of hospital after having a skin graft over the brand the Northern stars had burned into his shoulder. And yet, here was his ebullient partner, still concentrating on the one abiding love of his life – food!

Starsky rolled his eyes heavenwards. 'There's just no pleasing you is there? Just shudup and eat your food like a good little Blondie huh?'

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Early next morning the candy apple red and white striped Ford Gran Torino drew up outside the apartment at Venice Place and a bright and perky Starsky got out, jogged around the front end of the car and took the steps two at a time. He knocked on the door and pushed it open sticking his head around it in case Hutch's girlfriend was still around.

After the ceremony had ended last night, Hutch and Abby, Starsky and Susan had made an evening of it by going to one of the new trendy discos on the Ocean Road out of the city. There, they'd boogied out on the sand under the stars till the early hours and had finally made it home at gone 3:00am. While Susan was due to start work at the hospital at 8:00am and had gone straight home, Abby had the day off and now as Starsky tiptoed into the dim and curtained room, he saw Hutch's bedroom door was still closed and various items of Abby's clothing were strewn across the floor and furniture. The brunet smiled. Lucky sod!

He found his way into the kitchen and set to making freshly brewed coffee, hoping the aroma would wake his partner up. They needed to be out on the street and rolling by 8:30 and it was 7:45 now. With two cups in his hand, he knocked on the bedroom door and shouted.

'Hey rise and shine love birds. Time to go to work!'

Something that sounded like a shoe hit the back of the door and Starsky grinned, rattling the doorknob again before padding back to the sofa and sitting down. He put his feet up on the coffee table and rested back, savouring the fresh coffee as a bleary and sleep tousled blond head appeared round the door.

'What time is it?'

'Time you were up, washed and dressed and enjoying your coffee. C'mon Blintz, bad guys to catch!' Starsky said a little too loudly.

'Keep it down will ya? There's a brass band goin' off in my head an' it's just about to start on the second chorus!' Hutch muttered.

'Serves ya right for sleeping in – if ya got any sleep at all' the brunet wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

'You're all heart, you know that don't ya?' Hutch disappeared back into his bedroom and emerged a moment later with a towel round his hips and headed for the bathroom.

The sounds of showers subsided and Hutch emerged a few minutes later, scrubbed and looking a little less like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. Water dripped from his flaxen bangs onto his bare chest and he had a toothbrush clamped between his teeth.

'Ready?' Starsky asked innocently looking at his watch.

'Do I look like I'm ready' the blond mumbled around the toothbrush. 'Just gimme a minute' He opened the door and looked at his girlfriend's body on the bed. He ducked his head round the door. 'Maybe gimme five' he smiled as Abby's arm snaked up to entice him back to bed.

Within 15 minutes, Hutch was dried and dressed and following his partner down the steps and out into the bright sunlit morning. He groaned and took his dark glasses from his jacket pocket jamming them onto his face as he got into the car and hunkered down in the seat.

'Remind me never again to drink so much champagne' he mumbled as the brunet started the engine and pulled out.

As he started to close his eyes, the radio chirped into life and he reached for it.