Feedback: Always welcome, but remember to do unto others as you would like them to do unto you…This is a learning and growing process, no one here claims to be perfect, or a professional, so don't treat us like one…
Disclaimer: I do not own Starsky and Hutch ('cause if I did, I would find better things for them to do.)
Author's Notes: This one is a trio of collaboration, between me and two other extremely amazing people! They are very close to me, (not to mention extremely talented!), and I hope they are close to all of you too… (And the crowd goes wild as the scene begins…)
Head Games
CHAPTER 2
It was pretty busy for a Thursday night at Huggy's, and Hutch felt fortunate to find the back booth that they usually sat at, unoccupied. Starsky slid wearily into the booth, looking around the place once he got settled. Hutch took the opposite side and eyed his partner.
"Tired?" Hutch asked, his soft voice never failed to soothe the brunet and lift his spirits, and Starsky gave his partner one of his patented grins.
"A bit," the dark haired detective said, "You know how it is . . . surveillance can be a bitch sometimes, especially when it revolves around this case. Man Hutch, I feel like I haven't been here for a while now."
"Well we haven't . . . been too busy with this arms shipment case . . . Sander's organization is pretty tight and has never been cracked before." Hutch said.
"Yeah, and it doesn't help having that arrogant bastard, Novak, breathin' down our necks all the time. Did'ja get how he tried to blame me for losin' that guy?"
"After what you said today, Dobey knows that Novak's not a team player, but he's right Starsk, we're gonna need help with this one . . . this case might be bigger than either of us can handle alone and after what happened to Cano, we need to move with caution."
"Yeah . . . well I'd work with anyone else except Novak. I just don't trust him Hutch." Starsky said, as his eyes shifted to the tall black proprietor who sauntered over to their booth, a dishrag thrown carelessly over his shoulder.
"Well looky hea . . . if it ain't the dynamic duo come waltzin' into my humble abode after doin' a disappearin' act for weeks on end." the skinny black man said loudly, a huge smile plastered on his dark face, "What brings Batman and Robin out on a Thursday night at that?"
"Beer," Starsky said smiling, his dark blue eyes twinkling with fondness for his long-time friend, "And just so we're clear on this . . . I'm Batman."
"And burgers," Hutch added, "His treat." The tall blond chuckled as he pointed his finger across the way to his sputtering partner, "Batman always treats Robin."
Huggy smiled widely, "No need to get your super undies all tangled up Starsky, it's on the house. I'll be right back with your beer and then maybe we can "catch up" if you know what I mean . . ."
The Bear turned back to the bar, leaving Starsky staring at Hutch, as they silently tried to decipher Huggy's cryptic message.
"What do you make of that?" Hutch asked his curly haired friend, who shrugged in return.
"Dunno . . . guess he'll tell us when he returns." Starsky said, his cobalt eyes sweeping the room again, widening suddenly, then scrunching in exasperation, "Shit! Of all the gall, that jackass followed us in here!"
Hutch turned to look at the door and saw Novak making his way over to their table. The tall blond looked back at his disgruntled partner and rolled his eyes. Hutch could feel the irritation for the older cop come creeping back as he remembered the racist jib he thought he heard Novak murmur in Dobey's office. Racial slurs were one thing that both he, and Starsky, would never put up with.
His mind raced back to the day Jackson was shot in the alley, and he had to hold Starsky back from hitting that punk rookie again after he made a racist remark against an eye witness for being black. Novak had better be careful about making those kinds of slurs around the dark haired detective.
"Enjoying the evening boys?" Novak sneered, "I would think that since we're partners now, you would have had the decency to invite me along."
"Yeah? Well I don't see Lyons taggin' along," Starsky said sarcastically, "Don't tell me that he's finally wised up and requested a transfer to get away from you."
The tall blond snorted softly, earning a huge grin from the brunet. Hutch looked up at Novak who stood with his fists clenched as he glared down at Starsky malevolently.
"Look Novak," Hutch said, "It's late, we've all had a long day, and we're tired. You and Starsky here need some time away from each other . . . tomorrow will come soon enough. So if I were you, I'd either find another table . . ."
"Or go find another bar . . ." Starsky threw in, "There's a lot across town I hear . . .you can make new friends over there, although it might be pretty hard with your poor social skills . . ." the brunet snickered at his own joke, watching as Novak's face turned a bright red.
"Yeah? Well had I known you would choose this slummy joint to hang out at, I might have thought twice about coming here . . ."
"Now what did I hea? You callin' my place slummy?" Huggy said indignantly, placing the foamy mugs of beer on the old varnished table. The tall black man turned to Hutch, "Either your taste in friends has changed over these few weeks, or . . ."
"Should've known a nigger was running this joint . . . the place reeks of black eyed peas and grits." Novak sneered disdainfully, eyeing the bright florescent colors of the outfit Huggy wore.
Before Hutch could hold him back, Starsky lunged and grabbed Novak by the front of his shirt, slugging the man in his face, for the slur against his friend, sending Novak sprawling on the floor, the pleasant hum and stir of the place going suddenly silent at the ruckus.
Hutch jumped up and grabbed his angry partner before he could do anymore damage to the older cop. "If I were you," he told Novak, who was slowly getting up, "I would get my ass out of here."
"And if I were you," Huggy added, "I would never come back, because this "nigger" reserves the right to serve who the hell he chooses, and it ain't gonna be your white ass, not this evening or ever . . . ya dig? Now get the hell out!" The flamboyant dark man, stood with one hand on his hip, the other hand raised, a long slender finger pointing the direction to the door, which Novak slowly slunk out of, but not before saying, "I'll remember this Starsky . . . "
"It's okay ladies and gents," Huggy soothed his customers, "Just go back and enjoy what you were doin' before we were all so rudely interrupted." The soft whisperings soon grew into a gentle humming buzz, as everyone went about their business, sipping beer, eating and socializing with their companions. Huggy slid into the booth next to Hutch.
"Sorry Hug," Starsky said glumly, "Didn't know that asshole was followin' us."
"And who might that asshole be?" Huggy inquired, large dark eyes glanced across the table to this curly haired friend.
"He's a second class dick." Starsky grouched, much to the amusement of the other two who chuckled at that comment.
"He's a detective like us," Hutch said soberly, "Dobey assigned him and his partner to work with us on the case we're on."
"I see," the Bear said knowingly, "And would this case be dealing with an arms shipment and be somehow attached to an organization run by Sanders?"
Starsky looked quickly across the table at Hutch, then turned to eye his lanky, black friend, "Whatta ya got Hug?"
"What I got is a message that was delivered just before you boys arrived." The Bear handed the note to Hutch, who quickly began reading it, but Huggy continued on softly, dark eyes focused on cobalt blue, "It says that the big man wants to meet with the two of ya, tomorrow night, 8:00 pm at the docks. Nobody is to know of this, ya dig?"
"What does he want?" Starsky asked.
"Doesn't say," Hutch replied, handing the note over to the brunet, who read it quickly and raised bemused dark blue eyes to his friend's pale ones.
"Whatta ya think?" Starsky said softly, "A set-up?"
"Nah," Huggy said softly, "If the man wanted you two dead, you'd be smelling dirt by now. . . I think he wants to talk . . . about what . . . your guess is as good as mine.'
"It says nobody except us is to know about this or the deal is off." Hutch said, raising the mug to his lips to take a sip.
"And he would know . . . a big man like that would know how to plant bugs all over the place . . . and he knows how to exterminate 'em too."
"I say we meet," Starsky said softly, "Might help us crack this case sooner than we think."
"If we meet him, we'll be alone in this . . ." Hutch warned, his senses telling him they were making a mistake.
"We're not alone Hutch," Starsky smiled, "We got good old Hug here, and if we don't come back tomorrow evening, he's gonna make a quick phone call to Dobey . . ."
To Be Continued
