Chapter 4

'Come on honey. You need to take these. Ken…..Hutch honey. I need you to wake up.' Sue looked down at the sleeping man sorrowfully. Hutch had been semi awake for some time now, but he refused to open his eyes and acknowledge that she was there. Instead his lips worked as though he were speaking although no sound came out other than occasionally he'd rasp "Starsky" softly, as though to himself.

Sue smoothed her hand over the cop's golden toned forehead and was rewarded briefly with a flash of crystal blue eyes from beneath snowy lashes. She smiled down. 'The doctor gave you these, honey. He said you should take them for a while. They'll make you feel easier.' She handed him three small white tablets and reluctantly but obediently, the blond took them and swallowed them down with the glass of water she held out for him.

'What time is it?' Hutch asked, trying to peer at his bedside clock.

'Time you got some rest. Sleep, that's what you need. I'll be right here' Sue said gently. 'You've had a big shock and soon you need to start making decisions, but rest for now huh?'

Hutch rested his head on the pillow with a sigh. 'I still can't believe it. He's gone. We never even got to say goodbye properly. We were just gonna see each other at work like always. Oh God! Starsk….' Hutch closed his eyes, his forehead creasing in pain as he remembered his partner. Life would never be the same again and right now, if someone had offered him a way out, Hutch would have taken it, because he didn't feel that life was worth continuing, even with his wonderful girlfriend at his side.

The blond had been daydreaming about his partner. In his dreams, Starsky was alive and well. They were at the beach, swimming in the surf. The power of the waves testing each man's strength to the limit as they dived through each cresting breaker, swimming strongly through to the other side to emerge with a shake of their head as water droplets sprayed from chocolate curls and flaxen bangs. The daydream was a recurrent one, but it always ended the same way. At the end of each perfect wave, Starsky would turn to his partner with an intense look on his face and reach out a hand, whispering 'Hutch, come get me Hutch' as the tide pulled him away. And each time, Hutch would watch from the shallows as the smaller man was swept out to sea.

The blond closed his eyes, feeling the effects of the three Valium tablets start to pull at his consciousness. On the one hand, he wanted to embrace the oblivion he knew the medication would bring. But on the other hand, he felt he should experience every tiny little bit of hurt. Guilt washed over him. He was alive and Starsky was dead. Starsky had left him to struggle on in the world.

As he closed his eyes, he started to dream again of the beach. It was a hot day, the sand sun-warmed underfoot and the sunlight sparkling off the water. The beach was deserted, their tartan rug being the only oasis of colour in the acres of golden sand. They'd had lunch and a beer and had dozed through the heat of the day and now, hot and sticky, the water called to them, tempting them to take that first refreshing step. Starsky, in his usual ebullient fashion ran into the waves, straightening out his lithe body into a shallow dive through the breaker as it started to foam against the shore. Hutch hung back, watching the power of his partner's body forging through the white water, but as the wave died down, hissing towards the shore, the brunet seemed unable to regain his feet. Starsky turned back to Hutch, his hand outstretched, beseeching his buddy to save him, but another wave crested, obscuring Hutch's view for a few seconds and when it died down, Starsky was further out, shouting his name. 'Hutch, come get me Hutch'.

The blond tried to swim out to save his partner, but the waves turned instantly and infuriatingly from sparkling blue water to molasses. It clung to him, impeding his movements and snatching at his arms and legs so that he couldn't move. As he forced his head up, he saw Starsky's body being swept out to sea. 'Hutch, come get me Hutch…..' the cry floated to him on the air and he let out a sob as he plunged once again into the black depths, his strength leaving him as his buddy was swept away from him.

Hutch's head tossed restlessly on the pillow. 'Starsk….. Starsky, wait……Staaaarsk' he moaned.

Beside him, Sue tried to soothe him, but the flaxen haired cop was lost in his own world of pain and memories and drugs and eventually, the woman gave up her struggle to quieten her man and gently got up from the side of the bed. Knowing that he would be asleep for some time, Sue went into the kitchen, made a drink of herbal tea, adding to it one or two ingredients from her purse. She left a cupful of it on Hutch's bedside and with a final check on the blond, slowly slipped out, back to her job down town.

OOoOoOoOoOoOo

Starsky too was dreaming, although his dreams were mostly painful. After the woman had left him alone on the floor, he'd come to slowly and had tried to shuffle his way to a corner of the room, somehow feeling that he would be safer with a wall at his back. With his arms tied behind him, he managed to snake his way across the floor, being brought up painfully short by the twine still tied around the centre of his body. Starsky had given a small whimper of helplessness before sucking in a deep breath and trying to occupy his mind with other matters to stop the tide of panic welling up from his toes.

The brunet was confused, He had no idea who had taken him, or why, or indeed, where he was. All he knew for sure was that the minute he'd been plucked from his bed, his world had been a miasma of pain and he dearly wanted it to stop. Things had been so ordinary the night before. He'd had a reasonably good day at work, he and Hutch had celebrated getting a major lead on a guy supplying dope to college kids, but nothing out of the ordinary.

In his periods of consciousness, Starsky went over in his mind who he and Hutch had come into contact with, of later, but no-one of any note came to mind. Homicide had been quiet and they'd been helping out the narcotics guys with some old cases that needed closing. There was no-one of any influence that they'd put away and no syndicates that would pay to have one of Bay City's cops taken out of the way.

His mind came up blank and as the pains continued to argue with him and his arms ached from their enforced position behind his back, the brunet drifted back into an uncomfortable and restless sleep. In the cool of his prison room, his naked body shivered, goose bumps rising over the olive toned flesh.

The one thing he felt more than anxious about was that she'd said that Hutch thought he was dead. The woman actually crowed about it, seeming to know the connection that he and Hutch shared; the uncommon bond they had between them. The snippet of information hit Starsky on two levels. First, he could only imagine how Hutch must have been feeling. Did the blond have any idea how his partner was meant to have "died"? How would he react and…..oh my God. Hutch would tell Starsky's Mom and Nicky and…. Shit!

On another level, Starsky also panicked because if he was hurt, or injured, in trouble or missing, it was always the flaxen haired cop who could be relied upon to find him. Starsky went back in his mind over the times when he'd woken to find Hutch's concerned face smiling down at him and he moaned softly. 'Hutch….god damn the woman….Hutch! Hutch, come get me huh?'

The brunet must have drifted off into sleep again because he didn't hear the door to his cell open. The woman no longer wore the shoes that click clicked across the floor and Starsky's first indication that anyone was with him was when a bucket of ice water was thrown over his semi naked body. The shock brought him instantly awake causing him to jerk against the twine anchoring him to the floor and he gasped, the cold water soaking into the blindfold still tied round his eyes and setting up instant neuralgia.

'Wakey wakey' the woman's voice said. 'Did you have a nice sleep Davey?'

Starsky shook his head to get rid of the excess water and gasped at the unexpected deluge.

'Yeah, sure. Dreamin' of you sweetheart' Starsky grunted, trying to use his elbow to lever himself into a sitting position. He managed, panting with his exertions. He'd been captive for almost 20 hours and so far he'd had neither food nor drink. His mouth felt dry, his tongue a lump of sandpaper in his mouth and he licked appreciatively at the cold water running down the sides of his face. He felt something between his legs and flinched away as the woman nudged at his still naked cock with the toe of her shoe.

'Still not pleased to see me?' she taunted. 'And your reputation as a bit of a stallion falls at the first hurdle.'

'I don't get off on bein' trussed up like a Thanksgivin' turkey' Starsky snapped. 'I told ya. Let me up, let me outa here an' we can discuss terms. Hutch….' The word was out of his mouth before he'd had time to think and it was rewarded with a small, feminine giggle.

'Hutch won't be doing anything. Hutch thinks you're dead remember? It was so emotional reading about it in the newspaper today.'

There was the sound of paper rattling and then the woman cleared her throat.

'The Bay City Police Department today mourns the loss of one of their finest. Sergeant David Starsky was the latest victim of the wildfires sweeping the area when his body was found inside the wreckage of his burnt out house. The apartment at 2000 Ridgeway was the only house on that street consumed by the flames before fire fighters managed to bring the blaze under control.

Sergeant Starsky is survived by his Mother Rachel and Brother Nicholas who live in New York State. His partner, Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson was unavailable for comment and is being comforted by friends.

The funeral has been postponed until an inquest takes place.'

Starsky struggled against his bonds, trying manfully to get to his feet despite his restraints as the anger welled up inside him. 'Noooo, For Gods sake, let me up. Let me up. I'll fuckin' kill ya, you evil bitch. What's this all about? Huh? Tell me that. Why can't I see ya? Why won't ya take this fuckin' blindfold off so that I can look ya in the eyes, so that I know who you are, coz ya know I'm gonna get outa this an' track ya down for as long as ya live. Why don't ya let me see who you are? Huh?'

'But you do know me Davey. I'm the woman who's gonna put an end to the great Starsky and Hutch partnership once and for all.'

The admission brought the brunet up short. There was something familiar about her voice, but the broad Alabama accent was unfamiliar. He didn't know anyone from that part of the country, although the tone of the woman's voice nagged at him and her name seemed to be on the tip of his tongue.

'Why?' he asked.

'Because you ruined my life, that's why. Because you ruined everything I could have had.'

'I don't understand. Take the blindfold off an' let me see ya. Explain it to me. Explain to me why you're doin' this.'

Starsky hissed as he felt fingers trailing down the side of his face. He pulled his head back, trying to peer under the margin of his blindfold to get a glimpse of her. The woman saw his attempt and pushed his head sideways with the same fingers that a moment ago had caressed his skin so gently.

'Naughty! No peeking, otherwise you'll spoil the surprise.'

'I don't want a surprise. I just wanna see you eye to eye' the brunet gasped. 'Or are ya scared I'll think you're butt ugly or sumthin' he taunted.

'I don't care what you think I look like. But you aren't gonna see me till I'm good and ready. And then I want to see the horror on your face when you realise.'

Fingers worked on the centre of his body now and Starsky could feel her untying the twine that still circled his core and he hissed softly as the returning circulation set up a fierce burning. He felt her stand, although he didn't hear any footsteps, but as the door closed softly behind the woman, leaving Starsky alone in his room again he yelled after her.

'For God's sake….let me out!'