Chapter 20 – eight days later

Hutch drove over to Starskys' apartment with foreboding. Each day since he'd taken Ramsey from his penthouse suite and to the Nevada border, he'd come by for his partner to find the brunet morose and uncommunicative. Starsky was hurting, he knew that, and not just in a physical way. Hell, Hutch was hurting too and what the blond really wanted to do was to have a long, quiet and uninterrupted heart to heart talk with his buddy. Each time he proposed it though, he was met by a blank stare, a shrug of tightly clenched shoulders or a curt shake of a curly head.

For Hutch, the nights were the worst. That was the time he missed his partner the most, when they'd finished work and, once upon a time, would have driven to the Pits for a beer and to catch up on the local gossip with Huggy. Or maybe call for a pizza and take it back to their apartments, talking about the happenings of the day. Companionship was the cornerstone of their relationship and right now, companionship was the last thing Starsky seemed to want.

While the blond tried to keep his mind occupied with work, however, his partner had other, less wholesome ploys for distracting himself and now, as Hutch drew his car to a stop outside Starsky's house, he saw that once again, the curtains were still closed and Starsky wasn't ready for work. 'Aww Starsk. What're ya doin' to yourself buddy?' he muttered as he got out and walked tiredly up the steps to knock on the front door. Time there was, and not too long ago, when knocking would have been undreamed of, but with the way Starsky had been since…… Hutch sighed and hammered once again on the dumb wood before cracking the door open and walked inside the darkened apartment.

As he stepped inside, the blond saw the bedroom door standing ajar and he was just about to call out to his partner to get a wriggle on when he brought himself up short, listening.

'Oh baby, yeah….Oh my god! Ohmygod, ohmygod, yeah, do that again honey. Harder, do it harder.' Starsky's sex husky voice echoed around the abandoned living room and a moment later he heard a feminine giggle and a rough shout as his buddy's climax became obvious.

Moments later, a naked girl slunk from the bedroom, winked at Hutch and unhurriedly walked to the bathroom. A second later the shower started and as Hutch sat down on the sofa and waited, a rumple faced and disheveled brunet appeared at the door of his bedroom, scratching at his chest and stretching luxuriously.

Starsky scowled at the flaxen haired cop and then checked out the clock on his kitchen wall. 'You're early' he grunted.

'Oh, I dunno. I was just in time to catch the final act' Hutch replied quietly.

'Ya can get three to five for that kinda thing.'

'Well here's the thing Starsk old man. Either shut your bedroom door, or make sure your fuck-of-the-night is gone before it's time to get ready for work.'

'Or we could just meet up at the Metro. That way ya wouldn't need to get all embarrassed would ya?' Starsky snapped, heading for the kitchen. He opened his fridge and removed a can of Cola and a donut.

The sounds from the bathroom ceased and a moment later, the girl re-emerged, now scrubbed and dressed, with her hair slicked back from her face. She shimmied over to the brunet, planted a kiss on his forehead and smiled at Hutch.

'I've left the number pinned to your bathroom mirror' she said in a sultry voice. 'Call anytime honeybun.' Picking up her purse, she tottered on impossibly high heels to the door, turned, blew a kiss across the room and stepped outside, leaving an atmosphere inside the apartment so thick it could be cut with a knife. Starsky grinned after her and took another mouthful of donut. 'You're just grouchy 'coz you're jealous' he mumbled through the crumbs.

'Jealous? Of that? Oh c'mon Starsk! She's the….what? Third, fourth this week. I bet ya don't even know her name.'

I do too know her name. That was… was… what the hell does it matter what her name was anyway?'

'Well maybe she left that pinned to your bathroom mirror too' Hutch grunted angrily. He sighed and looked down at his hands. 'I'm sorry Starsk. I'm just….just worried for ya.'

'No, you aint Hutch. You want to control me. You want everythin' to be right in "Hutchworld" just to make it easier for ya.'

'I want to help ya buddy' the blond said quietly.

'Sure. You can help me. By shuttin' the fuck up about it. If I want a girl I'll have a girl' Starsky yelled angrily.

'What? A different one every night?'

'Yeah, and three of 'em on Sundays. What's your point Hutch? Are ya jealous or sumthin? Why does it matter to ya?'

'It matters coz I can see you're hurtin' and I want to help. I need to talk about what went on. We need to talk..can't you see that? We haven't said a word about it since… since that night. Please Starsk, ya gotta see that' Hutch pleaded.

'No I can't. As I see it, what's done is done, and there aint no goin' back. Now, you can either make yourself a coffee an' wait for me, or get your ass downtown, an' I'll see ya there.'

'Listen to yourself Starsk. That isn't you. I just…'

'I know. Ya just want to make sure I'm ok. Well ask yourself this Hutch. Do you want to make sure I'm ok for me, or for you?' Starsky said tiredly.

'Huh?'

'Do you want to make sure I'm ok so that you're sure I'm ok? Or do you want to make sure I'm ok so that you can feel better about yourself?' the brunet said slowly.

'To make me feel better?' What the hell is that supposed to mean?' Hutch asked, genuine confusion on his face.

'Yeah, that's just as I thought. I'm gonna take a shower. If you're gone when I get out, I'll see you at work. And Hutchinson, if I'm late, it's my concern ok?' Starsky stalked stiff backed into his bathroom and slammed the door shut with such a resounding crash that the pots on the draining board in the kitchen rattled in sympathy.

The blond lowered his head to his hands and took a deep breath. What was he supposed to do now? Simply walk out of the apartment and hope that this was forgotten? Well that was as likely as a pork pie being eaten at a Jewish wedding. What had been brewing for days was never gonna just go away, he knew that. But there again, if he stayed and waited for Starsky to finish getting ready, did he really want to be trapped in the car with the furious brunet for any longer than was absolutely necessary?

Maybe there was some sense to the convoluted statement Starsky had made. Did he want Starsky to tell him that he was ok just so that he, Hutch would feel better? Or did he genuinely have a concern for the curly haired cop's welfare? Things were so muddled in his mind that right there and then he didn't know what to think, or how t act. All Hutch knew was that he wanted someone – some fairy with a magic wand – to come along and make everything better. To somehow wind back the clock to before Gina Bianchi, before Ian Ramsey and before videos had ever been invented.

With a troubled mind, Hutch got to his feet, and started to walk to the bathroom door to knock on it and tell Starsky he was going. But as he put his hand up he suddenly realised it was futile. What was he bothering for? Starsky didn't want him round and it crossed his mind that he ought to get in there early and speak to Dobey. After over ten years, during which time he though he'd found a partner for life, Hutch had come to the pressured conclusion that maybe he should start to work with someone else.

With a heavy heart, the blond set off for town, driving automatically as his mind went over the conversation he wanted to have with his Captain. Pulling into the parking lot, he got out, walked into the familiar stone clad building and walked wearily up the steps, walking along the corridor to Dobey's office. He knocked on the door and snickered at himself. It seemed like it was a day for knocking. He heard the gruff "come in" and pushed the door open. The black man looked up.

'Hutchinson? Where's Starsky? Is he sick?'

'No, he's fine Cap'n. I um…. I just wanted to um….. well, while he…Starsk…he isn't here I um…'

Dobey put his pen down, sat back in his chair and observed the uncomfortable blond quietly. It was rare that Hutch's stammer was quite so pronounced as today and the Captain knew there must be something important bothering his man. He waited patiently as Hutch looked down at his hands and played with a loose thread on the button on his jacket.

'I needed to t ttalk to you. Tttto…. Before…um.'

'Are you ok Hutch? Has something happened?'

'What? Like what?' Hutch asked a little too loudly.

'I dunno. I was just wondering. You seem…..anxious' Dobey offered.

'Anxious? Um….no…yeah….well um. No I'm not anxious I just wanted to come an' talk about me an' Sta….'

'Starsky' Dobey said over Hutch's head. Behind him, the blond could hear the door to the squad room open.

'Cap'n' the brunet said carefully 'Hutch.'

'Hutchinson was just…. What did you want Hutch?' Dobey asked, turning his attention back to the blond.

At this side, Starsky sat down quietly, not on the arm of the chair as he usually did, but on the other chair in the room. 'Yeah, Hutch. What did ya want to talk to the Captain about huh?' there was a challenge in the voice and defiance shining in the indigo eyes as his partner fixed him with a stare. With no warmth in those eyes, Hutch flinched inwardly.

'I was just um… I was um….dunno. Doesn't matter now. It's fine, it's fine' Hutch finished lamely, looking pleadingly at his captain.

'Ok, well, while you're both here, I need your paperwork bringing up to date. I want your expenses forms in order, added up and on my desk by four o'clock and I need the files on the Suzuki and the Walker cases too. I don't what up with you both, but you're way behind. Clear? On my desk by four o'clock?' Dobey sat back and waited for the explosion and the endless list of excuses from the brunet and his partner. Instead, however, both cops nodded meekly, got up from their seats and headed out. The captain sighed. He knew something was wrong, but what, and how to put it right, he was struggling with. The two cops had worked together so long that he could only trust in their closeness to see them through. With a troubled shake of his head, Dobey picked up his pen and went back to his file as outside two cops, one flaxen blond and one chocolate dark sat opposite each other and wordlessly started their own work.