Chapter 14 With a big thank you to all my friends for your kind words

The woman came towards him, smiling as if she knew him, and indeed she did seem familiar in some way. How could that be? He'd never been here before and didn't know anyone in the town except Sam and Hutch. He hadn't even met Sam's husband yet – he was away on business.

As she came closer, Starsky got a good look at her. She was petite. No more than 5' tall and had dark brown hair reaching down her back almost to her waist. It blew gently in the warm breeze, stray whisps of it curling around her chin. Her face was heart shaped and open and her eyes burned with green fire, looking out from heavily fringed lids. She had a beautiful smile and she used that on the brunette now as she guilelessly walked right up to him and sat herself down on the ground at his side.

Momentarily stunned, he smiled back, not knowing what else to do. He'd never before seen someone do that. In the city, people were guarded and kept themselves to themselves. He felt he should have been uncomfortable. She had invaded his personal space and he had come here to be alone. But instead, he felt relaxed at her being there, as if familiarity and relaxation radiated from her, touching him and coursing through his body.

'Hello' she said, turning her cats eyes on him, the smile from her lips playing in her eyes too.

'Ah……hello' he said hesitantly. He still felt as if he should know her. As if she was an old friend, but he didn't recognise her. Don't be a fool, how can you, you've no idea who she is.

She continued talking as if he were a long lost friend, and, much as he fought against it, he found he wanted to respond to her in a similar fashion.

'Why are you all alone?' she asked.

'I needed some time to think' he said, wondering why he'd said it. He couldn't explain it, it just seemed so right, as if to ignore her would be the worst thing in the world.

'But I'm here now, so you're not alone any more', she giggled behind her hand. It was a childish gesture, but at the same time held no hint of child in it.

'No. You're here……….. Do I know you?' he asked, deciding prevarication wasn't getting him anywhere.

'Perhaps' she answered cryptically. 'I know you. You need a friend. You look so troubled. Do you want to tell me?'

Starsky's mind said no, he most definitely didn't want to talk to this perfect stranger. He had riled against talking to the hospital psychiatrist and couldn't find the words to tell even Hutch, his closest friend on earth. So why should he tell her? But his lips had a mind of their own and betrayed what his mind was telling him.

'Yeah…..I think'. Shit what had he just said? Pull yourself together Davey. What the fuck are you doing here?

His mind felt confused. He so desperately did want to talk to someone, and this woman had such a beautiful face. She had an air about her. She genuinely wanted to help him, but he couldn't for the life of him think why. It was as if she was sucking the words from his very soul, each one wrung from him, leaving him cleansed.

'My friend is sick' he started, blurting it out as if it had come from a bottle with the stopper pushed off.

'Will he get well?' she asked.

'What? Ah…….. yeah, he'll get well, but it's my fault he's sick'.

'Why?'

'He was too busy looking after me to care for himself and now he's sick. Like I said, it's my fault'. He said it with such bitterness, it stunned him.

'Did you ask him to look after you?' she asked, her hand now playing up and down his arm, brushing past the dark hairs there.

The feeling was disturbing his line of thought. He wasn't concentrating. He was just saying the words as they came to his mind with no thought, no consciousness for what they meant. They were the words from his heart, no double values attached... 'No, he looked after me because he wanted to. Because I needed him. He's my friend and my partner. He's like my brother'.

'Then why is it your fault?' the fingers on his arm continuing playing up and down.

He couldn't think of an answer. Perhaps there wasn't an answer. He could only think of her touch on his arm. It melted everything else away, until all that was left was the tickle as each hair was lightly brushed away, then sprang back to its rightful place and the need to answer her questions with as much innocence and honesty as the spirit in which they were asked.

'I don't know' he gasped, amazed at his own response to this stranger. 'I guess it felt comfortable to think it was my fault. Like, if there was someone to take the blame it would make it alright'. Where the hell did all that come from Davey? Is that what you really think? – Guess so.

Her hand had moved up to the wound on his neck now, and she lightly brushed the stitches, eliciting a deep, throaty growl from the brunette, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

'You need to make peace with yourself' she whispered in his ear, her breath warm and sensuous against his skin. 'You need to give yourself permission to heal. You can't stop all the bad in the world'.

He moved his head towards her, dizzy with a desire for a woman he'd only just met. He never wanted her to stop touching him. It felt so good and right. It felt like it had always been meant to be. He felt a flutter in his groin as the fingers continued their ministrations, dancing lightly across the skin of his neck, sending electric shocks through his body. The fingers stopped their devilish contortions and he whimpered at their loss.

'Oh, God, don't stop', he gasped, opening his eyes.

He saw a black nose and a big brown eye looking at him, as Bobby continued to sniff at his hair. Sitting up in surprise, he looked around for the woman, but she wasn't there. Had he fallen asleep? Oh that's a real good way to start a romance, Davey boy! He looked at his watch – midday. He couldn't have been asleep long, but obviously long enough for her to have got fed up of him and moved on.

He lay back on the grass feeling a blast of emotions. Anger that he'd concentrated so much on his own feelings that she'd left; wonder at the fact that a perfect stranger could have that effect on him (and that he'd let her!) and an odd contentment. His mind seemed a little easier as he thought about the blond back at the cottage. He knew he'd recover from this set back. Sure, it was a bad infection, but he was big and strong and he'd get over it with nothing more than a scar to add to his collection. Starsky suddenly knew Hutch would be fine. He sighed and patted the dog, before getting up and heading back over the top of the hill and down towards the cottage.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Bobby bounded ahead as Starsky made his way back down the hill towards The James House. He watched the little dog busily foraging and sniffing, amused at the air of business that seemed to come from him. He was a little brown and white bundle of energy and for a moment, Starsky was envious of the joie de vivre the little animal had. Then he paused, realising that for the first time in a long time, the complete blackness of his depression had paled from all out blackness to a sort of murky grey. Sure, he felt dismal still, but now there did seem some purpose to life again. He was going to look after Hutch, just as Hutch had looked after him. Not because Hutch asked him, but because he, Starsky, wanted to. It was as simple as that.

As he walked back through the open front door of the cottage, Sam was coming downstairs with a dinner tray. She smiled as she saw him, taking in the slight darkening of the skin on his arms and face.

'Looks like you caught the sun a little' she said. 'Hutch has had a little soup for lunch and a drink. I'm glad you're back. I think he needs the bathroom, but I don't think I could get him there on my own. I have to go into work for a little while. My boss telephoned. We seem to have got ourselves a serial killer on the loose. He's called in all detectives for a briefing. Will you be OK? There's food in the fridge and if you can give Bobby a biscuit, I'll be back as soon as'. She put the tray down on the sink, picked up her car keys and left.

Starsky made his way upstairs and headed towards the back bedroom. Pushing open the door, he saw Hutch propped up on pillows and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

'How ya doin' Blondie?' he asked. 'Sam said you might need the bathroom?'

Hutch was already pushing the sheet back as Starsky was speaking. 'Getting a little urgent there, buddy' he said through clenched teeth.

He paled a little as Starsky helped to get him upright, and as he used his good leg, with Starsky as a human crutch for the other, he hopped his way along the corridor to the bathroom. Hutch managed to do the necessary on his own, whilst the brunette hovered outside, then they repeated the process back to the bedroom. Hutch sat carefully back down on the bed and Starsky helped re-arrange the pillows and sheet. The blond was sweating with the effort, and the smaller man passed him a drink of water. Once he'd got his breath back he looked over at the brunette. Something had changed, but he wasn't sure what.

'Sam said you went out. Did you walk?'

'Starsky seemed a little more relaxed. 'Yeah, there's a path at the side of the house up the hill to a little lake. The views are terrific. I took Bobby'. He didn't mention the woman to Hutch. It was like she was some kind of dream, and Starsky still hadn't come to terms fully with the depth of his reaction to her caresses.

Hutch seemed amused. 'You……..a walk? Thought you'd at least have tried to get the Jensen up there. Take a photo next time. You and countryside without being forced is definitely photograph worthy'.

'It was beautiful. Really peaceful up there. I just had time to think. Ya know, try and get my head straightened out a bit?'

'And did ya?' Hutch asked softly, still feeling a complete bastard for copping out of listening to his partner that morning.

'A little, I think, yeah'. He smiled a shadow of that lopsided, goofy Starsky smile that Hutch loved so much. 'Gonna take a lot more walks, though. I'm gonna be the fittest cop in LA before I get my head in order!'

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rest f the afternoon, Starsky sat with the blond as he dozed. His fever was up again a little and at about 4.00, the District Nurse called by. She was a homely woman of perhaps 50. Solidly built she had a motherly air about her and both men liked her immediately. She fussed over Hutch's leg, and apologised when she cleaned some more crud from the wound, causing him to yelp and sweat again. She re-dressed the wound with a dry dressing, then pronounced that it looked like it was going to be OK. She gave Hutch another antibiotic shot and asked if he wanted more morphine.

'I think I've flown enough for a while' Hutch said, taking instead the packet of pills she handed him. With a promise to call her if they needed anything, she made another appointment for the next day and left the two men alone again. Perhaps 20 minutes later, they heard a car draw up and Sam made her way back into the house, calling upstairs.

'Help me downstairs?' Hutch asked.

His partner looked doubtful. 'Dr Patterson said you shouldn't get tired and shouldn't move too much' he protested, but Hutch was half way out of bed.

'You can help me out to that seat I saw in the garden, and I promise I'll stay put' he grunted. 'It's my vacation too an' I want to see a bit of sunshine, before the rain comes down'.

So the brunette helped Hutch downstairs slowly and out into the sunny evening. Hutch collapsed onto the sun lounger in the garden as Starsky fussed over him with pillows and a cover, making sure he had a glass of water. Hutch was just happy to be outside, feeling the sun on his face. The journey downstairs had been painful, but worth it as he surveyed the country garden. Hollyhocks and Night Scented Stock ran in profusion around the borders, mixed with poppies and mysembrianthemums, creating a riot of colour. There was a large lawn which led down the hill to a wall marking the beginning of cow pasture. An enormous oak stood sentinel at the garden gate and rubbed shoulders with elder, rowan and hawthorne along the hedge. The garden was bisected by a small stream which ran over rocks and stones, a rustic bridge crossing it at it's narrowest point.

The late afternoon had a heavy lethargic feel to it, the sun's rays having lost a little of their power. Laying in a dip, as the house did, it felt cut off from the rest of the world – alone, but not lonely. Bees buzzed lazily around the hollyhocks and red admiral butterflies rested on the poppies.

Hutch felt his partner had turned a corner and wondered what had precipitated it. Whatever it was, he was glad for the brunette. He'd had far too much suffering for one man to cope with.

Later Sam brought out a lasagne she'd cooked and they ate their supper in silence, enjoying the fresh air and warm breeze. She started telling them about the serial murderer she'd had a meeting about. All the victims belonged to a Buddhist temple in the nearby town, and after the first two victims were found, the murderer had now started leaving clues. The first had been a simple statement – Deuteronomy 5:7 'You shall have no other gods before me' and at first the reviewing detective had thought it was a single murder, perpetrated by a Christian zealot. They had started searching churches in the area for any parishioners who were new or who had started behaving oddly. They had got a lead from one of the churches nearby, but the Vicar there was refusing to breach his rules of confidentiality and was having a hard time reconciling his duty with the need to help the police.

Then a new body was discovered. It was the body of a young woman and had been stabbed. The tragedy was that she was pregnant. Next to the body was a clue. It was a page ripped out of a Bible with a passage underlined in red:

Jeremiah 13:25 This is your lot, the portion I have decreed for you," declares the Lord, "because you have forgotten me and trusted in false gods".

'What was the red underlining like?' Hutch asked, fascinated. The pain in his leg temporarily forgotten, he was caught up in the intrigue of the case, even though it wasn't his to solve and he had no jurisdiction anyway.

'It was caked, and looked like blood. The forensic boys are studying it as we speak' Sam explained. 'I'll let you know what he finds. But enough of work. What have you two been doing this afternoon?'

And so the evening went on, comfortable conversation flowing between the three of them, and Sam noticing that Starsky was beginning to join in a little more, his handsome face now more animated and the lost, hurt look diminishing from his eyes.

At about 10.30, the brunette looked at his watch. 'Don't it ever get dark round here?' he asked, stretching and getting up.

'Not really if the weather's sunny'. Sam explained. 'It probably won't go completely dark at all tonight, but the sun will rise about 4.30 tomorrow morning'.

Starsky looked over to his partner, whose chin had dipped onto his chest, eyes closed. He chuckled 'think we'd better get sleeping beauty to bed'. He crossed to the blond and shook his shudder gently. 'Hey, Blintz. Bedtime'. Turning, he quickly strode over to Sam and quickly kissed the top of her head. 'Thanks for everything'.

She looked at him strangely, but said nothing.

Starsky struggled to get the blond to his feet and after much hard work upstairs and ready for bed. Settling into his own bed, Starsky lay back and stared at the ceiling, going over the events of the day. Not a bad day, he thought, his mind drifting back to the woman by the lake. He fell asleep with a little smile on his face.