Disclaimer: This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders to the rights of Starsky and Hutch.
Warning: "The Chosen" is a paranormal/supernatural dark tale and contains some sexual content, foul language, and hurt scenes that may be offensive to some readers. If this is not your cup of tea, then please refrain from sipping. I truly do not want to offend anyone and it is never my intentions to do so. Please consider yourself warned.
A/N: A big mahalo (thank you) goes out to the readers who cared enough to review. It is always nice to have others come along for the ride and your warm words of encouragement meant a lot!
Love and light . . . Shawne 'til Dawn.
~The Chosen~
~ Chapter Two ~
Starsky was the first to recover from Mari's surprise visit and memory had served him well if the big smile on his face was any indication of it. Twinkling blue orbs roamed up and down the small-framed woman who quickly stood before him. "Remember you?" the dark haired cop frowned, his eyes narrowing as he eyed the woman. "Nope, can't seem to place you. You know her, Hutch? Saw her mug shot somewhere before?" the brunet scowled.
Hutch frowned and tilted his head to the side, sky blue eyes perused the woman who smiled shyly and self-consciously tucked a silky, black tendril behind her ear. "Hmmm," Hutch said squinting, rubbing the contours of his chin between his thumb and index finger. "Can't say I know her, buddy. Maybe we arrested her for skipping town a few years ago."
"Or maybe we busted her for breaking her promise and not calling home more often!" Starsky playfully scolded, which made Mari laugh and then blush even more.
Dobey snorted and then grinned. "Alright boys, stop harassing her. It's no wonder Mari stayed away so long with you both harping on her all the time."
"I've missed you too, guys." Mari said, dimples appearing in both cheeks as she flung her slender arms first around the curly haired brunet, then around the tall, handsome blonde. Stepping away from Hutch's embrace Mari laughed, her almond shaped eyes shimmering in happiness. "It's been a long time!" Though she kept a smile on her face, Mari wondered at the sudden prickling energy she felt when she hugged the dark haired detective.
"And you're beautiful, like always." Hutch said, his voice rich with fond emotion for the young woman who blushed even more.
Starsky grinned and eased his aching body into one of the seats fronting the captain's desk, "Well you're back now and it's about time you decided to slum with us for awhile, kid. We missed ya!"
"So what've you been doing with yourself, Mari?" Hutch asked as he steered Mari back into the seat she vacated. "I mean, we haven't heard from you in . . ."
"Three years." Mari finished. "It's been three years since I spoke with any of you. I'm sorry it's been so long, but . . ."
"But you're here now." Dobey interjected. "And that's all that matters right?" The hefty black man raised a thick black brow as he eyed his men from across the expanse of his desk. "We're proud of you Mari, for what you've accomplished since leaving Bay City."
"Yeah, heard you're workin' with the Feds now." Starsky said, a playful smirk tweaking the corner of his mouth. "Big time FBI agent, huh?"
"Yup." Mari said smiling, "Finally got a job and a place to call home now."
"You must be busy," Hutch said. "How do you like working for the Federal Bureau?"
"It's good. Tiring sometimes, but good." Mari replied.
"So you've been busy then," Starsky asked, sharp blue eyes reading the weariness in Mari's face.
Mari sighed. "Yeah, been working a case that we haven't been quite able to piece together. It's been a while since I've been able to just sit and relax like this. Just got in from New Orleans today."
"New Orleans, huh? Hutch chimed in. "Heard a lot of scary stuff goes on down there—voodoo, witchcraft, sacrificial rituals . . ." The tall blond detective surreptitiously eyed his suddenly quiet partner and grinned knowing the brunet was sometimes superstitious and frightened of the unknown, but his smile soon disappeared as he saw his partner subtly wince and change his position on the hard seat. Lines of concern etched Hutch's forehead as he nonchalantly watched his partner from the corner of his eye.
"Yeah," Mari agreed. "In fact, we were called down there to investigate a possible homicide. They found a man in bed. His corpse was shriveled and dried up, as if all the liquid had somehow been removed from his body." Mari watched Starsky closely as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering for the umpteenth time why David's photo was found at the scene of a crime on Bourbon Street of all places.
She titled her head as she silently pondered over the sudden dark energy she had felt emanating from David when she first hugged him. Her senses were on high alert and she could feel herself worrying about the brunet. For a brief moment she stared at Starsky and shuddered as a vision of writhing bodies glistening with sweat rocked together in passion; straining for the pleasurable release that only an orgasm could bring . . .
At the sudden quiet in the office, Mari snapped back into the here and now and realized that she was still staring at the dark haired detective. Trying to inconspicuously get control over her breathing, she blushed again feeling everyone's eyes upon her. She dropped her own eyes to her hands that were clenched tightly together on her lap. "I'm sorry," Mari said shaking her head, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "I d-don't think I was even at liberty to disclose what I just shared about the case."
"Don't worry," Captain Dobey said gruffly. "That information won't get passed this office." His men quickly nodded in agreement.
"Thanks," Mari smiled, lifting her eyes once more to look at the men in the room. "I know I can trust my family." Her smile slowly faded as she took in the frown on the brunet's face. "What's wrong, David?" she asked.
Starsky shook his head, only to regret the jarring motion as it increased the pounding tempo in his head. "I don't know. Seems like I remember a similar case to yours right here in Bay City." The brunet looked at his partner. "Remember Hutch? The farmer . . . um . . .what's his name? That guy was found in a motel room all shriveled up and dehydrated just like the guy you found, Mari. Remember Hutch? It wasn't our case, but they were talking about it for days. Seemed like the guy was almost mummified or somethin', making him look way older than he really was."
Hutch snapped his fingers. "Yeah, I remember now. John Beam . . . uh . . . no, not Beam," Hutch said looking up at the ceiling as he searched his memory. "It was John Ba . . .."
"Barnes! John Barnes!" Starsky interjected excitedly.
"Yeah, Barnes," Hutch agreed. "And he was a rancher, not a farmer. Owned a 20 acre spread north from here, and he raised cows I think."
"Yeah, that's right!" Starsky said. "His death was never solved, if I remember right. No one could explain what caused it either."
"Well, we could call down to records and have them dredge up the file on that case," Dobey added, looking at Mari. "Who knows, maybe you can take a look at it and see if it might be tied into the case you're working on now."
Mari shrugged. "Won't hurt to look it over, I guess." The Asian woman glanced up at Starsky as he stood while Dobey reached for the phone to make the call down to R & I for the record.
"Okay then," the brunet said, smiling down at Mari. "I'll go pick up the files and be right back."
"Thanks, David," Mari said, as the detective made his way to the door and turned the knob. She studied the way he stiffly walked and wondered once again if something was wrong with Starsky. She rubbed her arms inconspicuously, trying to rid the goosebumps that suddenly rose on her skin as she thought of her vision. Was she seeing the last sexual moments of the man in New Orleans? Sometimes Mari cursed her "gift", wishing there was a more definite answer than the vague flashes of insight she often received from the fickle universe.
"Wait a minute, Starsk," Hutch called out. "I'll go get that file. You can go get Mari a cup of coffee or something." The tall blond detective quickly stood, but stopped in mid stride as his partner waved him back.
"Nah," Starsky said, "You go get Mari some coffee. I gotta use the 'can' anyway. Be right back with that file."
Hutch frowned as the door closed and he turned to look at Mari, seeing the same concern reflected in her dark, almond shaped eyes.
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"Well, well . . . look who finally has the balls to show up!" The well-stacked brunette smirked from behind the counter in Records. Her dark red nails looked like drops of blood as she ran her hand along the base of her neck, only to drag it lower to blatantly caress the swell of her voluptuous cleavage that peeked out from the gaping vee of her unbuttoned uniform top.
"Hey, Sammy," the curly haired detective nodded in the direction of the woman standing before him, his bright blue gaze following the blazing trail of fiery red nails as they lingered near the creamy peaks of her breasts. Catching himself, Starsky quickly looked up to familiar green eyes that narrowed as Samantha glared at him.
"You got the file that Dobey wanted?" Starsky asked politely, immediately regretting his decision to come for the folder himself. He could sense the animosity radiating out from his former girlfriend and it made him feel suddenly tired and unwilling to create an ugly scene. It had been a while since the brunet saw Samantha and it made his heart ache with a longing he'd thought he'd buried. Starsky smiled and winked, hoping it would ease the tension that arced through the room. "Ya think I can have it anytime soon, Sam? You know how the Captain gets if he has to wait."
The records clerk turned to reach over and grab a manila file folder sitting at the top of a stack of other folders on her cluttered desk. Samantha flippantly held the file in one hand and then sneered and leaned forward, propping the bottom of her chin upon the back of her other hand, her elbow resting on the countertop that stood between them. The policewoman's eyes blazed as they raked over the handsome brunet. "Yeah?" the brunette snapped. "Well I hope Dobey kicks your fucking sweet ass darling, because you aren't leaving until you hear what I have to say."
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Hutch tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator, only to suddenly turn and take the stairs instead. He could feel himself worrying and silently berated himself for over-reacting, even as his feet flew down the concrete steps in his haste to get to the department that Samantha Elliot worked in.
Opening the door to the stairwell, Hutch let it close softly behind him and made his way over to R & I, stopping just behind the partially opened door to eavesdrop as he heard his partner's familiar voice.
"Look, Sammy," Starsky said with a sigh. "I think we've been down this road before. There ain't no reason to re-hash everything. Just give me the folder and I'll leave."
"Leave and go back to your lover boy?" Samantha mocked, her lips lifting in a sneer that marred her pretty features. "Don't think I haven't heard the whispers and the jokes about you and your pretty partner, Starsky. You made me the laughing stock of this department, pretending to be out on surveillance every night while you were fucking Hutch's ass instead. Do you think I'm stupid? Don't you think I hear the rumors about you two?" The brunette raised her voice angrily. "You're a prick, you know that? I mean, what did you expect me to do, huh? These past three months you've been hiding behind your partner's skirts, sending him down here whenever you need a stinking file instead of facing the music yourself. And now you waltz in here like nothing's happened, and you expect me to carry on like everything is normal?"
"Sam," Starsky growled softly, turning to see if Charlie Collins, another cop who worked with Samantha, was listening in on their conversation. "Calm down!" Starsky whispered, simultaneously nodding and smiling at Charlie who looked over his shoulder at the couple, then shrugged and continued working on his report.
"Calm down?" Samantha snapped, her already shrill voice raising an octave to scream incessantly at the dark haired detective. "You have your fucking nerve to tell me to calm down, you bastard!"
"Sammy, listen to me," Starsky sighed. "I don't know what happened . . . what went wrong. All I know is that you weren't happy. You were angry with me all the time and you wanted out. I just gave you what you wanted . . ."
"Oh, so you want me to believe that you're the martyr now, is that right?" the brunette shouted, not allowing the man to finish his sentence. "Is that how you're playing it to keep your precious image safe? I would have more respect for you if you just admitted to being gay and that you fuck Hutch every . . ."
Starsky reached over the counter and grabbed the brunette's wrist, "Calm down, Sam!" he said, his voice a firm, but quiet rasp. "You don't even know what you're talking about. You need to . . .
"Fuck you!"
The slap came out of nowhere, whipping Starsky's head to the side from the force of the blow. The sharp sound of flesh upon flesh caused Hutch to finally make his presence known as he angrily stood in the doorway.
Green fire fused to smoldering sapphire as Starsky turned to look at the brunette. "Don't you ever touch me again, you asshole!" Samantha hissed, rubbing her wrist after she yanked it away. "You lost that right 3 months ago!"
"Samantha . . ." Starsky began again as Hutch came to stand beside him.
"What the hell is going on?" Hutch asked, a frown making the groove between his brows deepen.
The buxom woman turned her glare upon the fair-haired detective and sneered derisively. "Oh, here we go. Now your white knight has arrived to rescue you, princess," Samantha mocked. "What's wrong Ken? David gone too long for your liking?" The brunette glanced down at her wristwatch. "Oh my god, he's only been here five minutes and you can't wait to come sniffing around looking for his fine ass! You two make me sick! You should get a room!"
The intense glare from pale blue eyes made the woman look away and though Hutch bristled in anger, he forced himself to soften his gaze as he turned to look at his partner. "You got the file buddy? Dobey's waiting." The blond detective snatched the forgotten folder from the countertop and handed it to Starsky who silently shook his head and left without saying anything else to the furious woman.
Hutch angrily watched as his partner left the room, making sure that Starsky was out of earshot before he blasted the bitch who bristled before him. The blond detective turned his icy blue gaze upon the offensive brunette. "You broke up with him because you think there's something going on between him and me?" Hutch snorted derisively. "You're an idiot, Sammy, and I for one am glad you lost my partner because you certainly don't deserve a good man like Starsky!"
Samantha Elliot felt the color drain from her face as the tall blond turned to leave, but Hutch quickly looked over his shoulder at the older man who stood to the side of the counter. "What's that, Charlie? You said something?"
Charlie Collins turned to look at Hutch, a sneer curling his upper lip. "Yeah, I said you're a fucking faggot, Hutchinson. Sammy here, can do way better than your gay partner. You young cops, you think you're God's gift to the world and I think that you . . ."
Charlie swallowed hard as he suddenly found himself slammed to the wall, the large fist that crumpled the crisp starch of his uniform made the older man cringe. Icy blue eyes froze the blood in Charlie's veins and he gulped as the full blaze of the golden sun scorched his soul.
Hutch leaned in close to whisper into the shell of the shorter man's ear. "Don't think that I don't know how rumors get spread around here, Charlie. It just goes to show you how stupid Elliot is to listen to you. Maybe that's why the both of you can't get that promotion you've been itching for, leaving you both to rot down here in the dungeon with nothing but stink moldy files to keep you busy all day."
Hutch let the older man go abruptly, letting him fall to the floor only to pick him up by the collar and gallantly dust him off. "Now, I think," Hutch said softly as he hovered over the shorter man, making a show of dusting Charlie's uniform. "That you and your pathetic cafeteria cronies should shut your dirty mouths before I shut it for you. Do you understand, Charlie? Nod if you do." Hutch said with a threatening smile as Charlie Collins nodded vigorously.
"Good boy, Charlie!" Hutch grinned, chucking the older cop under his wobbly chin and settling him back on his feet. Turning to glance once more at the beautiful brunette, Hutch shook his head sadly. "Too bad, Elliot. It's really your loss. No one would have loved you more or have been more faithful to you than Starsky! You know, it's really ironic, Sam, that you would lose someone as great as Dave just because you listened to rumors created by jealous idiots. I give my partner so much credit. He's not one to listen to idle gossip. In fact, he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, until proven wrong. It must just break his heart to realize that you really are a stupid bitch, Elliot, especially since he never listened to the rumors floating around here about your gullible and malicious personality, giving you the chance you wanted, only to have you blow it away with your moronic, petty jealousies. Go figure." The tall blond shrugged, and then dusting his hands as if what he touched were filth, Hutch saluted both record clerks and walked out of the room in search of his partner.
The handsome blond detective found his dark haired counterpart in the men's restroom on the second floor. Starsky stood with two hands pressed against the tiled wall; his dark, curly head hanging down between his arms, the manila folder all but forgotten on the edge of the sink.
Hutch frowned as he heard his partner breathing hard, almost like he was winded from walking up the short flight of stairs. It irritated the blond detective to no extent to realize that Starsky had conveniently forgotten to tell him the real reason of Samantha Elliot's break up. To think that his partner's relationship ended indirectly because of him, and that Starksy would keep it from him pissed Hutch off royally.
The brunet quickly stood to his full height when his partner entered the restroom, though he refused to make eye contact. Instead, Starsky walked over to the other sink and turned the faucet on, cupping his hands to splash water on his face.
"You mind telling me what Samantha was talking about back there, buddy?" Hutch asked firmly, eyeing his partner's flushed cheeks.
"It's nuthin', Hutch. Jus' drop it!" Starsky said. Though it was spoken softly, anger tinged the edges of his words; a concealed warning that made the blond pause before he angrily continued his tirade.
"No. Don't brush me off. You tell me now, Starsk. What the hell's going on?" Hutch pushed, pale blue eyes flashing silver.
"I said to drop it, Hutch!" Starsky snapped, turning angrily to face his partner, only to clutch the side of the sink as a wave of dizziness overcame him. The dark haired detective closed his eyes, breathing hard. His long dark lashes looking like smudges against his suddenly pale cheeks.
Concern instantly replaced any residual anger the blond felt just moments ago as he quickly reached out to steady the brunet. "Hey, you okay, Starsk?" Hutch asked, after giving his partner a moment to just get his breathing under control. "You gonna hurl?"
Eyes still closed, Starsky swallowed hard and then shook his head. "Nah. 'M okay. Just turned too fast, I guess." Starsky opened his eyes slowly then sheepishly looked up at his partner who still held his biceps. "Guess I'm more tired than I thought, huh?" Dark blue eyes, both weary and sad, connected with Hutch's and the tall blond swallowed hard at the pain reflected in the familiar sapphire depths.
The dark haired detective slowly straightened his knees, locking them in place as he stood to his full height once more and Hutch cautiously let him go, once the blond made sure that Starsky was steady on his feet.
Starsky snorted self-consciously and lifted the file from the sink's edge. "We better get this to Dobey before he splits his gut bellowing for us to hurry it up."
Hutch frowned, concern evident in the baby blue color of his orbs. "You sure you okay, Starsk? This is the second dizzy spell you had today."
"Hey," Starsky grinned, as he patted his longtime friend on the back. "'M fine. Jus' need to take a nap or somethin'. Let's hurry and get this back to Mari and then maybe I'll have time to take a . . ."
"They left," Hutch interjected. "The Captain took Mari to her hotel room at the Plaza to get her settled in. Dobey said she looked tired and should get some rest before the party tonight. He knew she just flew in from New Orleans." Hutch said. "Anyway, we're all going to meet tonight at Huggy's. We'll give it to her then."
"Yeah?" Starsky said, dark brows rising in question. "Dobey was okay with that?"
Hutch shrugged. "Guess so. He didn't say anything about it. In any case, the Captain and his family will be there too."
Starsky grinned and wiped his face with a paper towel. Squashing the cheap paper with one hand, the brunet tossed it into the trash receptacle. "Okay then," he said, tucking the manila folder under his arm, as he made his way to the door. "Let's get a move on it. Maybe if we leave now, I can catch a few winks before picking you up tonight."
"Sure, buddy," Hutch said, deftly pulling the file out from under Starsky's arm as he walked through the door his partner held open. "I'll hold on to this then, since you'll probably forget it in your haste."
"Huh?" Starsky queried.
Hutch chuckled, "You know how you're always late, Gordo. Can't have you forgetting the file as you rush around like a chicken without your head." Hutch paused as he again gave his partner the once over, "Man, Starsk, you really look like shit. Maybe you should just skip tonight."
"What? And miss all the food?" Starsky grumbled good-naturedly, glad that the subject of his former girlfriend was dropped by the wayside. "I don't think so, buddy. Not when the food and drinks are free."
The tall blond snorted and placed his free arm over his friend's shoulder. Hutch smiled, knowing Starsky thought he had cleverly evaded their discussion about Samantha Elliot, but the tall blond detective would wisely let it go for now; knowing that he'd bring it up again in the near future. Right now, his first concern was for his partner's health and welfare. Starsky looked bone weary and though he tried to hide it, Hutch knew his partner was in pain, not only physically, but emotionally as well. The soft-hearted blond pushed down the anger he felt as he thought about Samantha Elliot's callous treatment of his longtime friend.
"Gotta stop with the mother-henning, Hutchinson," Starsky said tiredly with a smile in his voice, as if sensing his partner's thoughts. " Can't have you hovering over every breath I take tonight, buddy."
Hutch laughed as he followed his partner out of the restroom, knowing Starsky was reading his mind once again. They were so in tuned to each other. Often able to sense each other's thoughts or finish each other's sentences. It was their special connection that probably saved their lives out on the streets every day as they took risks that no other cops would dare to do.
"Yeah?" Hutch said grinning, as he walked beside the brunet. "Just make sure you brush your teeth then before you pick me up. Who's gonna take care of you if I faint from your bad breath?"
"Funny. Very funny, Blondie," the dark haired cop wearily smirked then continued, "Hey, did anyone ever tell you that you missed your calling?" Starsky asked, sapphire eyes twinkling mischievously. At Hutch's silent frown, the curly haired cop playfully went on. "Your calling . . . you missed it, Hutch. You should have been a comedian, not a cop!"
"Meathead!" Hutch said with affection, locking his arm around his partner's head, rubbing the palm of his other hand vigorously over Starsky's dark, sable curls.
The two detectives, one light and the other dark, walked down the corridor snorting and jostling each other with their shoulders, enjoying their own company, oblivious to the open stares and derogatory whispers of the other department employees.
To be continued . . .