Chapter 23

Hutch escaped from the electric atmosphere of the office as soon as possible after the four o'clock deadline had passed. Throughout the day, the two partners had worked mostly silently on their files, exchanging the odd comment, or pausing to clarify a point or two on their files. Lunch came and went and was marked by a cup of coffee and a solitary green salad as Starsky got his jacket and stalked out to buy his customary burrito without even asking if Hutch wanted to walk with him. Hutch sighed and tried to ignore the raised eyebrows of the other guys in the squad room. For the most part, the two were inseparable, and the joke went that if you kicked one of them, the other would limp. To see the two cops so patently at odds provoked dark looks and it was only a matter of time before awkward questions started to be asked.

The blond rubbed absently at the nagging pain over his right temple as he drove. The headache had come on more or less the minute he'd gotten into work and had grown steadily more persistent all day. Now it chewed at his nerves, worrying them like a terrier dog worried a bone and Hutch longed for a cool drink and a lie down in his darkened bedroom.

With a sigh, he pulled up outside Venice Place, switched off his engine and staggered up the steps to his apartment. He opened the door and was immediately greeted by the smell of cooking coming from his kitchen. Alice was still in residence and she was paying for her keep by cooking and cleaning and generally making herself indispensable. She looked up and smiled as the flaxen haired cop walked in.

'Hiya Suga. How's your day been?' she asked as she got a beer from the fridge, expertly took off the crown cap and brought it through to Hutch. The cop threw his jacket onto a chair, pulled off his holster and flopped down on his sofa. Head back and eyes closed.

'Oh my! Has it been such a bad day?' Alice asked quietly.

'I've had better' Hutch mumbled, wishing he could just go to sleep and skip the next year or so completely. He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder and then shuffled round so that the woman had access to the top of his back, rotating his neck luxuriously as Alice dug her talented thumbs into the knots in his muscles.

'Handsome Hutch you are tense, with a capital T Suga. C'mere, let me get you led down an' I can take care of that for ya' she said softly and tugged at his hand.

'No, s'ok honey. You don't need to….'

'Aww c'mon Hutch. I'm not gonna bite ya know' she wheedled and smiled happily as Hutch struggled to stand up and followed obediently as she led him into the bedroom. Silently, she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders pushing him down until the cop was led face down on his bed. Hutch felt the mattress dip at the side of him and then a weight grinding his hips into the bed as Alice straddled his body and sat on his butt. The woman leant forward and a moment later, her hands were back on his shoulders, rubbing, kneading and pushing at the tense muscles and the knotted ligaments

For a while Hutch allowed himself the luxury of not thinking. Instead he concentrated on the wonderful feelings Alice was eliciting from him. Feelings of being special; of being cared for; of being cosseted. Hutch was usually the care giver. The blond was generally the one who ran round, usually after his partner, trying to make sure that everything was ok. Right now, he relinquished that responsibility for a while and allowed Alice to look after him as she silently worked her magic on his body.

'How's that feel Suga?' the blond woman asked softly as he felt some of the tension leave the cop's shoulders. 'Better?'

'Yeah, much.'

'Ya wanna talk honey? I'm good at keepin' secrets an' I think you look like a man that needs to spill some, right now.'

Tension started to return to bunched muscles in Hutch's back and Alice redoubled her efforts. 'Is it about Starsky?' she asked quietly.

'Kinda.'

'Has he upset ya, or made ya mad some way?' she asked again.

'No…yeah…no, he….'

'Has something happened between the two of ya?'

'Yeah, something happened' Hutch heard himself say. It was as though the dam of his emotions finally broke and the blond had found someone in whom he could confide. Alice wouldn't judge him, or use his story against him. Instead she'd be the listening ear he needed, and who could keep secrets better than a call girl?

Above him, Alice waited, knowing Hutch had a story he needed to tell and preparing herself to listen, and comfort where necessary.

Without moving, the flaxen haired cop started to explain. He told Alice about Gina Bianchi and Ian Ramsey. He mentioned how Ramsey had treated Starsky like shit and how somehow, the investigation into Alice's attackers had morphed into chasing Ramsey down. For good measure he added in his hurt that Sarah had gone, feeling the need to unburden himself of everything that had been building up inside of him in these past couple of months. He culminated the story with the shocking events that had taken place during that night eight days ago and as he finished the explanation of how he'd been forced to violate his partner, he felt his face wet with tears, although he had no recollection of them starting to flow.

He felt Alice slip off his body and she led at the side of him, running her hand through his hair gently and wiping away his tears with her thumb as she smiled at him.

'Such a lot of hurt for one man to deal with' she murmured. 'Why didn't ya tell me before instead of keeping it all bottled up inside ya?'

'Coz I've never been used to havin' anyone to tell before' he whispered shyly. 'You're good for me Alice, but I feel like I'm usin' ya, an' that's not right.'

'Well you aint the first man honey, an' you won't be the last. But you're different. You don't use me Hutch, you allow me to be part of your world an' that kinda makes me feel special, like I'm a real human bein' instead of some commodity that's been bought for an hour or so. I'm glad ya feel ya can talk to me.'

Hutch snorted. 'Talk, yeah. Talk is simple enough. But it doesn't cure anythin' does it? I still have the problem with Starsk, an' I still don't know what to do.'

'But you say he's distant and he won't talk to ya about what went on?'

Hutch sighed. 'That's about the size of it.'

'And that's not freakin' out in a quiet way?' Alice asked quietly. 'Seems to me like maybe Starsky has his own figurin' to do. Maybe he's done the figurin' already an' now he's tryin' to come to terms with the answers.'

The blond looked up sharply. 'Alice honey, I was forced to fuck my partner. What sort of answers does he need?'

'That's for him to decide honey. In the meantime, all you can do is hang in there and ride with him. Sooner or later, something's gonna give.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sooner or later, something did give and in a dramatic, nerve shattering way. Hutch slept easily that night, feeling boneless and limp after Alice's ministrations. The woman soothed away some of his fears, and as they talked, he drifted into a deep and restful sleep, waking up the next morning feeling that he was once again ready to face the world in general and Starsky in particular.

They'd no sooner logged on as rolling, however, when they had a call to a robbery in progress at a gas station only four blocks from the brunet's house and so, with mars light flashing and the two tones blaring, Starsky turned his Torino in that direction and drove hell for leather over to the scene.

Quelling the lights and sirens, the curly haired cop pulled to a stop half a block away from the gas station. He and Hutch could both see the gunman clearly from where they sat. He was dressed in black, with a black hood over his head and he wielded a Lee Enfield type rifle in one hand and a cotton bag of money in the other. On the forecourt of the garage, Ocean Five was currently pinned down by gunfire and as Hutch looked through his binoculars, he could see Mike Jones was down and bleeding.

'What d'ya wanna do Starsk? Jones is down and Chun is hemmed in by that flake. We should take it sof…. Starsk?...STARSKY' Hutch yelled as his partner got calmly out of the car and trotted towards the garage, calmly secreting his Smith and Wessen down the back of his jeans and covering it with his jacket. With a muttered curse, Hutch got out of the car and followed cautiously.

Starsky walked towards the man wielding the gun, as though he hadn't seen the weapon, and as the brunet started to make for the store front, the perp yelled at him.

'Hey, Bozo. Get the fuck down.'

Starsky turned slowly, feigning surprise and looked the gunman in the eye.

'Hey man, I just wanted a packet of smokes. Won't be a ….oh my god, is that a rifle?'

'You better fuckin' believe it. I said get down.'

'Why?' Starsky asked calmly. 'Ya gonna shoot me?'

Confronted by the curly haired man who seemed either extraordinarily brave or just plain nuts, the robber's rifle wavered slightly.

'Who the hell d'ya think you are, man? Ya think you're so special that I aint gonna shoot ya?'

'I think you'd be crazy to try.' The brunet said smoothly, taking a couple of steps closer to the gunman. From his distance, Hutch felt his knees go weak. What the hell was his partner playing at? It was as though he was asking to be shot!

'Crazy huh?' the robber muttered 'How'd'ya figure that?'

Starsky reached very slowly into his pocket and pulled out his shield. 'BCPD. That's how I figure it. Shootin' a cop will buy you life punk. Now drop the gun.' He took another step forward and the gunman raised his weapon, cocked it and put a slug into the dirt a foot from Starsky's left sneaker. The bullet kicked up dust and chippings that stung at the brunet's legs, and yet still he continued as though the shot had never happened, taking one quiet step at a time towards the robber.

The man was now dithering with indecision. He could handle screaming and shouting. Guns he could deal with. But this slow, calm, advancing cop was not something he'd included in his game plans.

Starsky was close enough now for the man to see the colour of his piercing blue eyes and yet the brunet still didn't slow. Across the street, Hutch closed his eyes, feeling powerless to do anything, and instead bracing himself for the shot that would surely take his partner out.

The gunman was getting desperate now and had his gun leveled at the advancing cop, aiming right between Starsky's eyes.

'You don't wanna do this' Starsky said softly.

'You don't know what the hell I want pig!' the gunman responded, his rifle waving threateningly.

'I know you're hurtin' about sumthin, an' I know I can get people to help.'

'You don't know shit! Stay back…. Just back of man' the robber yelled desperately.

One more step.

The curly haired cop held out his hand. 'Gimme the gun.'

'Fuck off.'

'Just gimme the gun an' we can talk about this' Starsky persisted, taking another step so that the muzzle of the rifle was now resting squarely in the middle of his chest. He could feel its hollow barrel and he leaned into it, almost as though he were taunting the guy to pull the trigger.

'No…I….You have no idea.'

'Yeah, I do. Everyone hurts, ya just need to have the courage to talk about it. I can help ya. Just gimme the gun huh?'

Starsky stared into the holes of the mask, challenging the fearful eyes that glared back at him. There was one more second of indecision and then, with a yell of fury, the gunman thrust the gun into Starsky's chest, let go and dropped to his knees.

Quick as a flash, the brunet grabbed the robber's wrists, twisting them backwards and pinning them behind the gunman's back with his cuffs. He looked up as Hutch sprinted across the street and Chun came out from behind the car he used as a shelter. Handing the flake over to Chun, the brunet seemed stunned when Hutch grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him around the corner to where there were no people.

'Just what the hell was all that about?' Hutch yelled into Starsky's face.

'What? I got the job done. What's your problem?'

'Got the…. Starsk he could've killed ya. That's the problem. What the fuck were you thinkin' of?'

'Nuthin. He didn't kill me, so everythin's cool' the brunet said with infuriating calmness.

'No, Starsky. Everythin' is not cool. I almost lost ya once, I don't wanna do that again. I can't do that again, so I don't take kindly to you playin' fast an' loose with your life' Hutch snapped, his face red with anger.

Starsky snorted. 'That's your problem aint it Hutch? It's all you. You almost lost me. You can't bear that again. You don't like me doin' what I do. You fucked me…..'

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Starsky could hardly look at the hurt and pain that washed over his partner's face as Hutch dropped his hands from Starsky's shoulders.

'Say that again, coz I hope I misheard ya.'

The apology hovered on the tip of the brunet's tongue. It would be the work of a second to let it out, and to gather up the hurting blond into his arms and comfort him. Starsky's fingers twitched at his side, longing to run through Hutch's flaxen bangs, and yet still he resisted. Hardening his heart, the curly haired cop turned away. The sable haired cop bunched his shoulders and turned away, walking quickly to the sanctuary of his Torino, leaving Hutch to watch him go.

The blond's heart broke.

So that was it. He'd heard it properly now. Starsky was behaving like this because he hated Hutch for what had happened that night, and yet still his partner refused to talk to him about it.