If I Can't Have You

Chapter 9

He hadn't been able to get to sleep. Of course he hadn't. The phone call that he had unconsciously been waiting for the past few days had finally come and now it was over the relief that he had thought it would have brought him was no relief at all.

The expectation that some tangible form of communication with his partner would erase all the uncertainty and worry he harbored about this assignment was far from met.

If anything the call and the sound of Starsky's voice …the words that he said…and the words that he didn't say, had all made him feel less certain, and even more worried about this assignment.

More worried about Starsky being partnered undercover with Ryan.

For five days he had waited for Starsky to call him. He knew that he would no doubt hear word through Dobey or Dobson about how the case was shaping up but on a personal level he was not sure when Starsky could or would make contact with him. Inside to outside or outside to inside contact or communication was strictly discouraged during an undercover job. Bugging of telephones and residences was becoming commonplace. Even though the roles that Ryan and Starsky had taken on in this case, as low tier runners, did not attract that much attention from the higher levels on the business side of the criminal pyramid, there was nonetheless a risk in any form of contact which compromised a cop's undercover identity.

Despite all of this, the rules, the policy, Hutch knew that if it was at all possible, he would eventually hear from his partner. It was just the way that their partnership worked.

It was just the way that their friendship worked.

And so the call came in eventually and Hutch had tried to hear everything that his partner was not saying to him because that was the important part of the conversation and Hutch could sense that as soon as he heard Starsky's slightly slurred, flat voice on the end of the line.

It was not just the concrete signs that all was not well – Starsky drinking during a big case when he was by himself, being out at a bar by himself in a middle of an undercover case – those in themselves were red lights to Hutch.

No, it was more the rhythm of his partner's words, the hollowness and greyness where there was usual substance and brightness. The low flame where there was usually crackle and flame.

Starsky was not an easy character to beat down mentally. Of the two of them Hutch knew his partner's strength was fierce and resolute.

But tonight even in the brief exchange they shared – Hutch could hear and feel that his friend felt displaced and uncertain.

What concerned him the most was that even though his partner had tried to make him believe that his flat mood was all down to the assignment, Hutch did not for a minute believe that was the situation at all.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

Tuesday

The Warehouse

He was not sure how but somehow he had gotten through the last two days.

When Starsky took stock of himself and his current situation he appreciated at least two discernible things about that personal stock-take.

One - he was still alive and in one piece. This despite the fact that he had had several more runs with Nick. Nick must have been losing interest in him as a new man to toy with and to provoke because the jobs had been relatively smooth transactions and not peppered with the type of wildly histrionic behaviour Nick had previously displayed during the first two days.

So being in one piece was good and being alive was even better. Starsky just hoped Nick kept taking his meds or whatever it was that was keeping him on a more even keel.

The second part of his personal inventory was that he and Ryan were managing to keep out of each other's way even though they were of course still sharing the small confines of the room.

The morning after Starsky had gone to the bar and spoke to Hutch, Ryan was not communicative and left Starsky to himself as both men prepared for the day ahead with their respective running partners.

That evening a group of the guys all got together and shared some beers and food in one of the empty rooms in the back of the warehouse. There were a few of them bunking there like Ryan and Starsky and now that they had been working alongside each other for a few days, the step to socializing was natural. Not that it was anything more than a handful of guys, beers and a portable TV in the background where a game played – but it was a small symbolism of unity.

These were the parts of undercover work that Starsky always found the most difficult. When he needed to take the step from simply being an individual in a particular role to being a member of an identifiable group. For him it was always tinged with a certain amount of guilt, because now he was not just doing his job by posing as another character in order to gain access to information or to effect change in a system – now he was impacting on people's lives.

Some of those people could be totally innocent of the corruption he was trying to stem. He didn't like to think too much about what inevitable chain reaction his role in being undercover could ultimately cause – and what that chain reaction might do to hurt or damage innocent people.

As he looked about that small room in the warehouse that night and listened to the men joke and share stories, he was divided now.

Between being a cop and a human being.

Sure these guys were petty criminals – some not even so petty. Not when you considered the bigger picture of what effects the drugs they were pedaling were having on society.

But at the end of the day they were merely couriers – albeit couriers of illicit goods – who had found work in order to bring in money. Money that Starsky knew for some of them at least, would be sustaining families, their kids, their mothers – whoever.

There was no easy black and white here and if he thought too much about it, he started to lose all objectivity.

So the days here in this operation were passing and somehow the grinding monotony of being holed up in the room with Ryan had been broken by these small opportunities to be outside of that restricted atmosphere. These times were also used to try to gather as much useful information on the organization as possible and to hone in on the details of the new load that was coming in on Wednesday night.

Ryan was on the other side of the room sharing a beer with Luke the guy he also did his runs with and Starsky was hoping that Luke would once again be divesting himself of some inside information such as he had done the day he had told them about the shipment.

Starsky was listening to one of the older men now sharing a story about an incident that occurred on one of the runs that afternoon. As he lifted his head to laugh at a comment made by the man, he caught sight of Ryan.

He was sitting silently, just staring directly at Starsky – watching him in that intrusive way now that Starsky was almost used to. He did not even appear to be listening to the other guy talking to him and Starsky wondered what the others would make of his behavior. Thankfully a cursory sweep of the room told him that most of them were oblivious of Ryan's penetrative gaze.

Unfortunately Nick, his own runner partner was uncharacteristically more intuitive than the other men – maybe because he had a stronger connection to Starsky.

He turned as he caught Nick at his side, a sly look on his face and his eyes narrowed as he spoke now to Starsky.

"Hey man, don't look like your friend there is feeling too kindly toward you. You two have a falling out? Better watch your self there Davey, he's gotta mean look about him and I think that look is meant for you."

Of all the men in the room that Starsky could have done without noticing Ryan, it was Nick. It was interesting that Nick had totally misconstrued Ryan's look.

He was only half joking now when he fobbed Nick off.

"Nah. No beef between us. He loves me."

Christ ain't that the truth?

All at once he felt acutely uncomfortable. This was a new behavior by Ryan – normally reserving this intense visual appraisal of him for when they were in private or no one else was aware of his actions.

Starsky just had to stand to walk away to break the intensity of the gaze he felt was almost burning into his face.

As he pulled another beer out of the small fridge he couldn't help but think that what Ryan was doing now, in front of the other men, was intentionally done to affect him in exactly the way it had done.

Ryan was becoming progressively inappropriate and overt with his surveillance of Starsky.

Starsky felt concerned at the realization that Ryan's degenerative behavior had begun to escalate.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

Another night passed in their shared accommodation. Tuesday night was another hurdle surpassed – or so it seemed to Starsky.

It was late by the time they left the other men and Starsky welcomed the feeling of fatigue and the dulling effects of the beers that had been consumed over the past hours. Once they both retired for the evening Starsky involved himself with a magazine and only used monosyllabic responses to Ryan's attempts at any conversation.

How long he could go on like this he was not sure.

Ryan seemed to have infinite tolerance for the awkward moments caused by his withdrawal from him and the drawn out silences and pregnant pauses that hung in the claustrophobic air of the small room.

In contrast, Starsky found ever moment almost painful.

Starsky had the sense that although Ryan had backed off physically from him, he had intensified his psychological tactics. Starsky was becoming overly jumpy and hypersensitive to living in proximity to such continued intense examination from another person.

It was, he was beginning to think, almost as unbearable as being held under gunpoint by some crazed trigger-happy thug. Even at its very worst scenario, the gun would explode, the bullet impacting and awarding some sort of finality and a sense of closure. But in contrast there seemed no end point, no such finality to this wracking drawn out mental game Ryan was playing with him.

Starsky now had a whole new level of respect for the term psychological torture.

An hour or so after they had turned out the light, Starsky lay as he did every night since Ryan went for him, facing the other man's bed. He needed this one small self-defensive tactic – to keep Ryan under direct visual surveillance. He hated to admit it even to himself, but he was now almost afraid to go to sleep.

Only a couple of more days. You can do this. Only a couple of more days. All finished. Back home. Keep it together.

As sleep took him and his was finally given the reprieve that he needed – to let go of the taut wire of stress, he had one final thought.

Please let this be over soon.

And if for some reason this operation was not wound up in the next two days – well he had already made the decision – he was pulling out.

Either way he would leave.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

In the end, Starsky did not have to wait much longer.

Ryan's ultimate actions took the decision away from him.

The metaphorical gun, which he had trained on Starsky, was fired. The finality that Starsky had wished for arrived.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Wednesday

Ryan's runner partner walked toward them as Starsky and Nick climbed out of the car. They had just returned from their last job that morning. Most of the men had started early and clocked up several jobs before midday. Kalzo had wanted everything cleaned up before the next big arrival of goods early on Thursday morning.

It was to be all hands on deck for the load that was coming in and so all men were expected to have their jobs finished and be ready for directions the next day.

Luke, Ryan's partner was friendly as he approached the other two runners.

"Hey seeing as we have all finished for the day, how about we get out of here for a few hours and go catch some beers and a game or two of pool. Need to chill out for a while. You two in?"

Nick was in a good mood today and readily accepted for both he and Starsky.

"Sure Man! Where's Ryan? He coming too?"

"Yeah he's waiting in the car. Lets quit this place for a while. Kalzo's fine with us splitting for the afternoon – just as long as we are all here after midnight."

So it was decided. At least Starsky thought it freed him up from a potentially long afternoon in the room with Ryan alone. He had planned on just going back to the sleeping quarters and crashing, for he certainly felt sleep deprived, but it would not be good to say no to Luke and Nick.

He locked up the car and walked off with the other two men to where Ryan was waiting in his car.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

Several drinks in, two pool games later and the afternoon passing, the four men had all begun to unwind from the morning activity of the dirty business of working as a runner for a drug ring.

Here was another time where Starsky had to remind himself who and what he was, and what exactly he was doing in this situation.

It was so easy to be caught up in the fabric of a false identity that within no time it became second nature to think like his undercover persona and not himself. As he went for the shot and lined up his pool cue he told himself that he was a cop and this was part of the job. He was not Dave the runner who needed to chill out from the harsh realities of his lifestyle, and these men were not his real co-workers but in fact the very men he had been sent in to put the finger on and ultimately arrest.

He placed the shot with alacrity and happily cheered for himself as the ball shot into the pocket. Looking up to smile at the others he forgot for a moment that vital piece of information – I am a cop. I will be taking these men in.

No, he was not going to think about it. Just for a while he was going to play this game, drink his beer and stay in this time frame. Reality could wait just a bit longer. And so too, he thought could the reality of going back to his lodgings with Ryan.

As he smiled up at Luke who was raucously cheering his shot, he caught Ryan's eyes. Once more he had Starsky in his sights and his eyes lingered on his face and then purposely, slowly, and so obviously moved away and down to Starsky's ass.

He gave that tight little smile that Starsky had in fact come to hate. Only days before Starsky had accepted that this was just a trait of the man he had been partnered with – nothing more than that. Just a characteristic sort of smile.

Now, that same small smile, made Starsky feel sick to the bottom of his stomach.

Starsky threw the cue down.

"Be back – gotta visit the john."

As he walked away he knew without looking that a pair of dark eyes would be burning into his back.

Get me outta here!

In the bathroom he stared at the dirty-yellowed tiles as he peed.

Never had a job felt so hard to do. Never had he wanted out so badly before.

He was zipping himself back up when he sensed movement behind him. Even before he turned he knew he would be there. Just standing, hip against the entrance wall, taking in the view of Starsky and what he had just put back in his pants.

Starsky moved over to the basin.

"You know what Ryan – you are really starting to piss me off big time."

"Oh?"

"Just back off will ya'. This is almost over. Almost in the bag. Don't push this anymore than you already have."

Ryan kicked the bathroom door closed behind him and advanced toward Starsky who stood facing him with his back against the mirrored bank of basins.

"But that's the problem Starsk. It is almost over and I am running out of time."

Starsky tried to read what was in those black eyes but before he got the chance Ryan's bulk was on him.

He lunged at Starsky and pushed him bodily against the corner of the room, his big muscled arms circling Starsky's chest and his whole body pushing into him, forcing Starsky's head back. He lifted one big meaty arm now and brought his hand up to pull at Starsky's curls pulling his head roughly back.

Ryan's face was suddenly pressed into his and in one violent motion he thrust his tongue into Starsky's shocked and open mouth.

Starsky's struggled and pulled against him but the grip that Ryan had on him was like a vice.

Jesus this guy is strong!

Ryan's other hand left Starsky's chest now and found its way down to his crotch. He squeezed hard and rubbed his hand roughly over the bulge in Starsky's tight jeans.

"Oh fuck I want you Starsky. I want you so much. Always have, ever since that night in the showers at the academy. You were waiting for me weren't you? You wanted me too. But I never – got the chance. Not then…have the chance now".

He kept running his tongue over Starsky's face and gasping out the words.

"I 've had to wait all this time to touch you – can't wait any longer – oh my God Starsky!"

Starsky was beyond panicked. He had never known strength like this and he had never know this sort of fear. He had experienced pain many times before in his life, pain and fear of that pain, but never this sort of fear.

A fear of not having any control over something he did not even undertand.

Why is he doing this? Why is he doing this to me?

He struggled and pushed, kicked with his legs and bucked but the combination of Ryan's physical size and the strength borne out of lust driven mania, was unstoppable.

He couldn't even get words out as Ryan had pushed his face so tightly against his own and was holding his head in such a brutal grip that he was beginning to think that the flesh would start to tear off his bones. Ryan's long slim fingers were surprisingly strong and they dug into Starsky's skin now like rods of steel.

Starsky was yelling at Ryan but it was as though Ryan was in another zone.

Whereas a few seconds earlier Starsky was terrified that someone would crash into the bathroom and discover them – now he almost wanted the door to open – he would welcome someone walking in on them. The situation had escalated so quickly to a situation totally out of his control. He wanted this over and now.

"You fuckin' fuckin' …..get off me … I can't … please….RYAN! STOP!"

Starsky's lip and tongue were bleeding now where he had ground his own teeth into his tender flesh as he had fought against this animal.

By this point Ryan had Starsky's fly open and was cupping his hand brutally around the limp cock and balls that his fingers had sought out and clutched onto with urgent movements.

Starsky thought he heard himself sob as he tried again to cry out and push Ryan's hand away from his crotch.

How could this be happening? Oh My GOD!

For one second he stopped struggling and let his body go limp.

Ryan relaxed his hold and pressure in the next second – an automatic response to Starsky's relaxed tone.

In that moment Starsky made his move.

He brought his fist up and rammed in hard under the bigger man's chin and then followed with a plow into his lower guts.

Ryan collapsed back and fell to his knees. He had been so unprepared for the attack. He was breathing like he had run a marathon and his face was sheen of sweat. Coughing and spitting he dragged his hand up and across his bleeding mouth.

Starsky wanted to slide down the wall, crawl into a ball and shake for an hour, but he kept upright and kept his vigil. Once he had enough strength in his legs he quickly skirted around Ryan and put himself between the door and Ryan now – out of the corner he had been trapped in a few moments earlier.

"You ….you…you are mad Ryan. You are fuckin' insane. " He could barely get the words out his voice was so weak and his throat burning from Ryan's vice like grip.

Starsky kept his arm extended as he pointed at Ryan's face, the other man still on his knees catching his ragged breath.

"This – you have gone too far Ryan. I, I can't do this with you – this job – you are making it too dangerous now for both of us."

Ryan was standing up now and smoothing his long black hair back off his sweating face, his eyes dark and yet bright at the same time.

Devil's eyes Starsky thought.

'What are you talking about. It's going down tomorrow." He looked quickly at the closed door and lowered his voice now.

"That is my freakin' point you asshole. You are puttin' our lives at risk here. "

"I just want you to enjoy what we can have together – tonight, we can be together tonight. It is our last chance."

This man is really mad.

This man is sad.

"Ryan listen to me good. We will never be together, not now, not tonight, not ever. When this job is done – I will make sure that you never get the opportunity to work with me again."

He moved backwards unconsciously closer toward the door.

"You need to think carefully about what you have done here with me now. You are a cop and no cop can work like this. You are endangering your own life and every other partner' s life you ever work with if this is how you are going to act."

"Are you threatening my career Starsky? Because you don't want to be my lover? You think you can take my job away from me huh?"

"Ryan you will do all of that by yourself. It is only a matter of time."

He turned completely now and pulled the door open.

"Keep the fuck away from me till this is over and then I will make sure you never get near me again."