Chapter 7

'I'm coming with you.'

'You're gonna stay here and rest.'

Starsky ignored the blond and walked over to his cupboard, taking out his comfortable, worn brown leather jacket. 'Look, I've been in bed for a week. I've rested until I aint got no more rest in me. I'm itchin' to get out. I just want to see someone other than doctors and nurses and…..'

'Are you gettin' fed up of me?'

The brunet grinned. 'You know what I mean.'

'I do' Hutch said, 'But I also know what Elsa said. Starsk, three days ago they were worried you'd survive.'

'But I did and I gotta say, if you ever go through sumthin like that…. Hutch it made me realise that you've got to take life by the horns. It's too short to be sittin' here on my own with dark thoughts. I'll be good, I promise. Just talkin' and sittin'. How much better could it be?'

The blond man looked dubious. 'You're just gonna come for the ride and sit and talk, do I have that right?'

'Uh huh.'

'And you aren't gonna do anythin' stupid?'

Starsky put on his hurt expression. 'Me? Stupid?'

Hutch sighed. 'You're impossible.'

'I know, but I'm cute with it. Here, have an apple.' The smaller man took a fruit from the basket supplied by Vic Monty and threw it to his buddy. Hutch caught it and glared at it.

'I'd choke.'

Starsky took an apple himself and bit into it with obvious relish. 'It's free and it's food. Don't be sore.'

'No! He's not doin' it. He's not goin' near that flake. Over my dead body' Starsky thundered as he bounded out of the chair in Dobey's office and leaned over the desk towards the black man.

'Siddown Starsky.'

'Not until you tell that son-of-a-bitch that my partner don't play bodyguard for anyone. Who the fuck does he think he is? The Queen of England? Hell, I wouldn't even let Hutch be a bullet catcher for her!'

Dobey glared back. 'And since when did you decide what Hutchinson does and doesn't do? Who put you in charge huh?'

'The bullet that did this put me in charge, especially where Vic Monty is concerned' Starsky yelled. He staggered again and angrily shouldered Hutch away as the blond tried to steer him back to his chair.

'Starsk, let's be reasonable about this' Hutch muttered.

'Reasonable? Reasonable? Hutch, you were the one who wanted to rip Monty's head off because of a basket of fruit. Now he wants this? No, no and oh, did I mention? NO.'

Dobey wiped his hanky over his face. He knew this was going to be a difficult call and yet the stakes were high. 'Starsky sit down or I'll call the hospital to have you re-admitted. Just hear me out.'

Starsky glared at both the other men and sat back down. A deep throb of pain had started up in his shoulder and radiated out until it consumed his whole arm, chest and head. Stubbornly he refused to tell anyone just how much he was hurting but he longed for some quiet time to take his pain meds and sleep. 'Fine' he mumbled and sat down, surreptitiously massaging his arm.

Dobey turned to Hutch. 'What are your views? I'm not gonna make ya, but I don't need to spell out what this means.'

Hutch sighed.

When they'd got back to the Metro that afternoon, Dobey had been waiting for them at the door to his office. His eyebrows had risen when he'd seen Starsky in tow and he'd waited patiently whilst the brunet answered the various questions about his wound and his general health. In truth Dobey felt relieved that Starsky had come into the Metro. Just to see the curly haired hellion seemed to make the conversation he was about to have a whole lot easier – or so he had thought. Finally he called a halt to the welcome back parade. 'When you've finally finished disrupting the team…'

Hutch had looked up. 'Oh, yeah. You wanted to see me Cap'n.'

Both men had made their way into Dobey's office and in deference to Starsky's injury, Hutch had allowed his partner the full chair all to himself whilst he'd brought in a wooden chair from outside.

'How's it going Starsky?' Dobey had started.

'I'm good. Doc says I should be back to normal in a few weeks.'

'I didn't expect to see you so soon.'

Starsky grinned. 'I know you miss me.'

Dobey grunted. 'Like toothache' he'd muttered although it was said with good humour. He got down to business, pulled a file out from his drawer and handed it to Hutch.

'I have a job for you.'

'Us?'

The black man had shook his head. 'No, you. Starsky's gonna be out of commission for a while and um…..you've been requested.'

The blond man had looked up in surprise. 'Requested?'

Starsky snorted. 'Hey Blondie! Ya got a fan!'

'Shuddup Starsk' Hutch and Dobey had said together. Whilst Hutch opened the file, Dobey started to look uncomfortable. His discomfort increased as Hutch finally slammed the file shut and flung it back onto the desk.

'Not till hell freezes over' he'd snapped.

'Hutchinson, hear me out, ok?'

Starsky sat up straighter. 'What? What's the file?' he'd asked his partner, feeling suddenly left out.

Hutch had sighed. 'My "fan" wants a bodyguard.'

'You?'

'Why don't you enlighten Detective Starsky?' Hutch had said quietly, looking defiantly at Dobey.

'Will somebody tell me what's going on?' Starsky had asked.

Dobey took a deep breath. 'We know that Vic Monty has been behind almost three quarters of the crime in this area for years and yet we've never been able to nail him, right?'

Starsky nodded, not liking where this was going. Dobey had ploughed on regardless.

'Last night I got a phone call that Monty wanted to talk. I set up a meeting. Couldn't arrest him on the spot coz we have no evidence, right? So we meet and basically Vic Monty, number one crime wave in Bay City was so rattled that Max Durnat was sent to blow him away that he feels the need to turn State's evidence and spill the beans on just about every other flake in the city. This is huge. We could clean up.'

'But?' Starsky had asked suspiciously.

Dobey sighed. 'But it comes with a proviso. Monty is scared, I mean scared shitless. He knows someone is onto him – someone powerful enough to have him blown away and he's willing to do just about anything to save his own skin and make his patch safe again. In his mind that equates to a minimum sentence in minimum security in return for every other major player in Bay City languishing behind bars. He's willing to give me names, jobs, dates. What he wants in return is a bodyguard with him 24/7 until the hearing.'

'And that's me' Hutch snapped.

'You? Why you?' Starsky had asked.

'Hey! Why not me? Ok, scrap that. I don't want the job anyway. Find some other sucker to babysit him.'

Dobey shook his head. 'No can do. Whatever happened that night, it's impressed Vic. He wants the best, which in his mind is Hutch or the deals off.'

It was at that point that Starsky lost his temper.

Starsky sat in the rusty brown LTD staring morosely at the passing crowds. Since leaving Dobey's office, neither man had said very much although both of them had minds that were a whirl with thoughts. For Starsky, the overriding feeling was once again one of uselessness. Hutch going out on a job by himself was something that had never happened before. Sure both men had from time to time taken under cover assignments, but the other had always been there, lurking in the background as back up. This was different. This time Hutch would be there on his own whilst Starsky took enough time to heal. The thoughts of his blond partner putting his life on the line for some no-good, son-of-a-bitch, lying, conniving, murdering bastard put Starsky's teeth on edge and did nothing to stop the thundering headache and the almost intolerable pain in his shoulder.

Hutch drove like an automaton. His own thoughts pretty much mirrored Starsky's although his concerns were not for himself but for the smaller man sitting next to him. He'd see the sweat start to bloom across Starsky's brow back in Dobey's office and he'd seen the narrowing of those deep, deep indigo eyes – Starsky's "tell" that he was in pain. Hutch had expected to be there whilst his partner recovered. He knew from experience that the brunet hated hospital, needles and anything that resembled a drug and he'd been ready to battle Starsky over the whole issue of taking his meds. Now, rather than worrying about guarding Vic Monty day in and day out until the hearing, he was concerned that Starsky wasn't going to look after himself whilst he was away.

The meeting with Dobey had ended with the big black man telling Hutch that he wouldn't order the blond cop to take the assignment but he wanted Hutch to think about it carefully – and think about what an opportunity this was for the Metro to clean up in one fell swoop. He'd given Hutch 12 hours to make his decision and had dismissed the men with orders to take Starsky home and "for gods sake get him some pain meds".

The car drew up outside Ridgeway and both men got out. 'Coffee?' Hutch asked.

'Bourbon' Starsky muttered morosely.

'Uh uh. Not on top of the codeine. Coffee, two pills and bed.'

The brunet wiggled his eyebrows. 'You romantic you! But I don't do bed. Not on a first date. Ok, well maybe I do, but I respect you too much.'

Hutch opened the door to Starsky's apartment and made himself at home setting up the percolator and busying himself in the kitchen. Starsky eased himself down onto the chair and stifled a groan. The pain was getting steadily worse and he slipped his arm out of the sling and started his exercises again. The pain grew worse but he gritted his teeth and pushed himself all the harder. He stopped only when Hutch handed him a glass of milk and two white pills. Starsky took them and glared at him.

'Which are these?'

'The ones that send you to La La land.'

'Don't want 'em.'

Hutch sighed. 'Starsk, you're hurtin' like hell and…..will ya stop exercising your fuckin' arm? It aint gonna get better over night, no matter what you do. You have to give it time. Starsk, please. Just give it a rest huh?'

Reluctantly Starsky stopped but still stared at the pills in his hand. 'How long will they knock me out?'

Hutch shrugged. 'Dunno. Does it matter?'

'It does if I need to be up for work tomorrow.'

'What?'

'You don't think I'm gonna let you take this job with Monty all by yourself?'

The blond stared unbelievingly at his partner. 'You aren't serious. You're jokin', right?'

'No.'

Hutch sank down onto the sofa opposite his buddy. 'Starsk, you came out of hospital this morning. Four days ago I thought I was gonna lose ya. Just over a week ago you were bleedin' to death on the floor of that fuckin' restaurant. What the hell makes you think you're fit enough? Hell, look at ya. No disrespect buddy, but right now you couldn't wrestle a fly off of a burrito, let alone fight off whoever paid Durnat to get to Monty.'

For one awful moment Starsky looked like he was going to weep with frustration. 'I'm not leavin' ya to deal with this on your own. It's too dangerous. It's….'

It's a job and we both know I'm gonna take it.'

'Then I'm gonna….'

Hutch put on his best "angry" face. 'You're gonna take your pills like a good boy, you're gonna go to bed and you're gonna stay there. Elsa said that exercising too much at this point will make things worse, not better. You still need to rest.'

'I need to back you up' Starsky said softly.

'And you will. After you recover. Go. Bed.'

Starsky hauled himself to his feet feeling every one of his 27 years. In truth it had been sheer will and determination that had kept him on his feet thus far. Now, the thought of getting into his own warm, soft bed was so compelling that he no other arguments to offer. Stiffly he made his way into the bedroom and when Hutch checked on him a half an hour later, Starsky was dead to the world.