As Starsky headed towards consciousness, he became aware of a man's voice talking close by. Somewhat confused, he started to get up, feeling anxious: thinking that someone had broken into his home but then he remembered that he had company staying. He listened and realised that Hutchinson was talking on the telephone. He tried not to listen as he lay back down for a moment. He wondered why he wasn't more cautious about a complete stranger being in his home. For some inexplicable reason, he knew that he was getting a good vibe off Hutchinson and didn't feel he had anything to worry about having the man staying with him. He got out of bed and pulled back the curtains. It looked like it was still sunny but the breeze coming in through the slightly open window was chilly. The brunet went to use the john and then got dressed.

When he came out of the bedroom, Hutchinson looked slightly anxious and said, "I-I hope you don't mind me using your phone. I-I'll pay for the call."

Starsky waved his hand. "Nah, don't worry about it."

"I-I just rang work…No-one's there on a Saturday but I left a message. I told them I'm not w-well and won't be in until the middle of the week," Hutchinson explained. "That'll give me a chance to try and figure out what I'm going to do…w-where I'm going to live."

Starsky poured himself a glass of milk.

"Good idea…So what does your wife usually do on a Saturday afternoon?"

Hutchinson looked flustered. "W-What? Why do you want to know?"

"Just thought, if she's likely to be out, maybe I could help you retrieve anything you want from your house and bring it here so ya got your stuff with ya."

The blond swallowed. "I-I…That's…I…"

Starsky rescued him. "So will she be out now? Want to do it now? Get it over with?"

"Y-yes, she should be out…Maybe I should ring and check?" Hutchinson suggested nervously.

Starsky waved his hand towards the phone. "Be my guest."

He watched as the tall blond reached for the phone with a shaking hand and dialled the number. When it connected, he let it ring for a good minute before replacing the receiver with a sigh of relief. "Looks like she's out."

"Good, let's go now then."

"Thanks."

Starsky patted his arm as he walked past. "No problem, buddy. Come on, we'll get your stuff first and then maybe buy some lunch on the way back."

He walked to the closet near the front door and grabbed his brown leather jacket. He pulled a light windcheater out and offered it to Hutchinson. "You might need this. The wind's cold out there."

"Thanks." Hutchinson took the proffered jacket and put it on. Then he looked worried, "Oh, my keys! I don't know what happened to them."

Starsky walked over to a small pot on his bookcase. "These came out of your jacket when we were at the beach. They the ones you need?"

"Yes, thanks." Hutchinson took the keys gratefully and stuffed them in his pocket.

"No problem."

Starsky locked the front door behind them and the two men walked out and down the steps towards the road and a red and white car parked next to the sidewalk.

"That's your car?" Hutchinson asked with surprise as Starsky walked over to the Torino and unlocked the door.

"Yes, she's a beauty, ain't she?" Starsky said proudly.

"Yes, very nice," Hutchinson answered without conviction.

As he climbed in the driver's seat, Starsky observed: "You must have been out of it yesterday if ya didn't notice her on the way back from the beach."

Hutchinson walked round and got in the passenger side. "That reminds me: I suppose I'd better go collect my car too…I left it at the beach…If you don't mind taking me there, Dave."

"That's no problem," Starsky said as he turned the key in the ignition. "Actually, I prefer being called Starsky, if it's okay with you."

"S-Sorry," Hutchinson stammered.

Starsky instantly felt sorry for correcting him. Someone had done a real number on this guy. His ego was about as fragile as a broken eggshell. "Hey, call me whatever you like. I don't really mind, buddy."

Hutchinson looked out of the window as they drove along. Every so often he gave Starsky directions and finally they pulled up outside a glass and steel apartment building.

"Want me to come in with you?"

Hutchinson swallowed nervously. "Y-Yes…if you don't mind."

"Nah, that's fine. I can help ya carry your cases."

Hutchinson looked at him gratefully then led the way into the building. He nodded politely at the doorman as they entered and walked over to the elevator, pressing the call button. Once they were inside he pressed the button for floor three. Starsky kept a surreptitious eye on him and noticed a nervous twitch in his cheek. When the elevator door opened, the two men walked down the corridor to door number 303. The blond took his key out of his pocket and then opened the door with a shaking hand.

Once inside, he called out tentatively, "V-Vanessa? Are you here?"

He seemed relieved when there was no answer.

Starsky looked around the place. It was sterile, devoid of any human touches. There were large paintings on the walls, no doubt worth a lot but not to Starsky's taste. They looked like the sort of thing people collected to make a statement not to give them pleasure. Hutchinson walked across the living room and into the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe doors and dragged two suitcases out from the back. After he placed them on the bed and opened them, he started pulling items of clothing out of a chest of drawers on the right of the room and filling up the first case. He took two suits out of the wardrobe and folded them carefully ito the other suitcase. He left the other five suits hanging. He found a pair of dark jeans and an old college jacket on a shelf and put those in his case as well. Then he closed both cases and did the latches up.

"That it for in here?" Starsky asked. "What about the bathroom?"

Hutchinson nodded and went and collected his toothbrush and shaving kit then he placed them in a zip up bag he pulled from another drawer. "That's it."

Starsky picked up one case and Hutchinson picked up the other. They walked through the living room and put the bags down near the front door.

"I just want to get a couple of other things," Hutchinson said.

"No problem, I'll wait here."

Hutchinson opened a narrow cupboard door and pulled out a vacuum cleaner. He reached in behind it and dragged out a battered old guitar case then replaced the cleaning equipment. He placed the guitar lovingly next to his case and headed into the kitchen. He came back carrying a blender and a very healthy looking spider-plant. Starsky couldn't help smiling at the weird choice of essential items Hutchinson wanted to take with him.

"What?" the blond asked.

"Nothing…That it?"

At that moment, they heard a key turning in the lock and Hutchinson's face went ashen. The door opened. A dark haired woman stepped into the room, stopping suddenly with a look of surprise on her face. She was beautiful but in a cold sort of way and Starsky took an instant dislike to her. She looked from one man to the other and at the cases on the floor in front of them.

"What's going on here?"

Hutchinson was silent, frozen in place, so Starsky answered for him.

"H-Ken's moving out."

"What do you mean moving out? And who the hell are you?"

"I'm a friend and Ken doesn't want to be here anymore."

Vanessa took a step closer to Ken and laid her hand on his arm. "Don't be ridiculous, darling. You are not going anywhere. We're married and you belong here with me."

She encircled her silent husband's wrist with her long well-manicured fingers. Starsky could see the grip was tight enough to leave marks. He stepped physically between the two of them and hissed, "Take your hand off him!"

Vanessa just laughed. "Or what?"

Starsky pulled himself up to his full height and took a step towards her, invading her personal space, forcing her to move backwards and let go of Hutchinson's wrist.

"We're leaving," he said firmly. "Why don't you go on into the living room and leave us to get out of here without a scene?"

Vanessa thought about side-stepping the dark-haired man in front of her and taking control of the situation and her husband but she could see the brunet was watching her like a hawk and knew he wasn't going to let her get close to Ken, if he could prevent it. She shrugged.

"Ken, darling, you're not really going with this person are you? What will I tell my parents? What will your parents think? What will your work think? What about our friends?"

Starsky took another step towards her. "Lady, he's going and you need to stop talking and back off."

Vanessa laughed again, a brittle, piercing sound. "He'll be back. He hasn't got the guts to cut himself off from everyone and everything he knows."

Vanessa blew a mock kiss towards her husband and headed towards the kitchen.

Starsky put the cases in the hall and then handed Hutchinson his guitar case, which he managed to take once he'd re-organised his belongings so that he had his arm clutching his blender against his chest and his plant held by the tip of his fingers. He still seemed frozen to the spot so Starsky patted his shoulder gently.

"Go down to the car, buddy. I'll follow with the cases."

Once Hutchinson was safely moving towards the elevator, Starsky turned round and saw Vanessa glaring at him from the kitchen doorway.

"He'll be back," she stated, sure of herself.

"No, he won't and you're never going to lay a hand on him again."

"We'll see."

Starsky turned his back to her, grabbed the cases and headed off to catch up with Hutchinson.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Both men were silent as Starsky drove them away from the apartment building. Hutchinson was lost somewhere in his own miserable thoughts, still clutching his spider plant in trembling hands, as if it was the only thing he had in the world that he cared about.

Starsky was filled with disgust. He found himself hating Vanessa and he'd only just met her. What would living with her day in day out have been like? Having someone say your name in that venomous tone? God, she was a bitch with a capital b and dangerous from what Starsky had seen. That she had the power to make a grown man feel that suicide was the only way out of a toxic relationship was frightening. Starsky blew out a breath of disgust and wondered what on earth he could say to make Hutchinson feel better. He decided he would take Hutchinson to his favourite drinking spot to get something to eat. The place was called 'The Pits' and was owned by a friend of Starsky's. When the car stopped, Hutchinson looked up.

"Interesting name," he remarked.

Starsky smiled, pleased to see there was glimmer of humour surfacing in the withdrawn man.

"Don't let the name bother you. The food's okay."

As they walked into the bar, the proprietor called across to them: "Hey, Starsky, my man. What's happening in the world of personal transportation?"

"This and that, Huggy!" Starsky shouted across the chattering customers. "All right if we sit in the booth at the back?"

"No need to ask my friend. Be my guest. I'll be right with you," the dark skinned man waved a hand in the general direction of the enclosed seating.

Starsky made his way to his favourite booth and sat down. As Hutchinson slipped in beside him, his eyes swept the room, taking in the mixture of clientele. He and Starsky were probably the most worthy looking citizens there. It wasn't the sort of place he would normally have ever gone to so he was surprised at how right it felt. It felt like a relaxed place to hang out with nothing expected from him. Not the sort of place he was usually dragged to by work colleagues or Vanessa.

Starsky handed him a menu. "What d'ya like the look of?"

Hutchinson cast a brief look over it. "I guess the chicken salad looks okay."

Starsky wrinkled his nose but refrained from comment. Huggy delivered a tray of food to a table in the middle of the room and then made his way to their booth. Hutchinson blinked slightly at the three piece flared suit in a garish orange and green that the owner was wearing.

"So who do we have here?"

Starsky made the introductions: "Huggy, this is my new pal, Ken Hutchinson…K-Hutch for short."

There was no way Starsky was ever going to call him Ken again, after hearing how Vanessa had used the name like a weapon. Hutchinson blinked in surprise but didn't correct Starsky.

"H-Hi, nice to meet you Huggy."

"Glad to meet you too, Hutch. Any friend of my man, Starsky, is a friend of mine. Now what'll you have to eat, gentlemen?"

Starsky replied, "Hutch here says he'd like the chicken salad and I'll have the spicy meatball sandwich."

"And to drink?"

Starsky hesitated: given Hutch's state earlier in the day it might be a good idea if he stayed clear of alcohol for a bit. "I'll have an orange juice. What about you, Hutch? Ya like orange juice?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine," the blond said quietly.

Huggy looked surprise but didn't comment when he saw the 'leave it' look on Starsky's face. As the thin, flamboyantly dressed man walked towards the kitchen to place their order, Starsky turned to the subdued man beside him. "How ya doing, buddy?"

Hutch shrugged, looking uncomfortable. Starsky waited, trying to give his new friend time to open up. Hutch became aware that Starsky was looking at him expectantly and shifted in his seat.

"I-I want to thank you for your h-help back at the apartment."

"No problem…How long has it been…like that?"

Hutch looked down at his hands, which Starsky noticed were still trembling. When he answered it was in a whisper: "A while…a long while…I don't remember when it got so bad…I don't remember when I gave up trying…to defend…"

Starsky risked laying a hand on Hutch's shoulder as he stated: "Well, you're out of it now, buddy. You don't have to put up with her crap ever again."

Hutch looked up at him, eyes swimming with grateful tears. "Thanks."

A waitress appeared with their orange juices, giving both men a chance to pull back from the emotional moment. Hutch's hands shook slightly as he picked up his glass. Starsky pretended not to notice and started telling Hutch about some of his fares and the crazy stories he'd heard over the last year. By the time their food came, Hutch was looking a lot calmer and his hands were steady.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

As they came out of 'The Pits', Starsky asked, "Have ya had enough for today, buddy? Do ya want to collect your car or leave it till tomorrow?"

"I'd better get it today," Hutch said. "I think I parked it in one of those free at weekends only zones. I don't remember…I was a bit out of it."

Starsky unlocked the door of his much loved red and white car and climbed in. He pulled up the lock on Hutch's side and allowed the blond to settle in the passenger seat with his spider plant carefully placed back on his lap before he started the engine.

"Okay, we'll collect your car after I stop off at the market for some supplies. Don't think I've got much food in for a guest who likes salad." The tone he used was gently teasing but Starsky could instantly feel a defensive wall shoot up around Hutch.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I don't want to cause any trouble," he stammered.

"Hey, no trouble at all. Ya just need to tell me what ya like to eat. Me, I'd live on pizza if I could."

Starsky felt Hutch relax at his words and was secretly pleased when the blond commented, "Pizza and meatball sandwiches are going to shorten your life expectancy, you know."

Starsky grinned at him. "Hey, life's short, ya might as well enjoy what ya eat, I say."

Hutch smiled back. "You are what you eat and if you eat right you'll live a long life, that's what I think."

"Well, buddy, we'd better make a deal: ya can choose what we eat for dinner tonight but I'll choose dessert. Okay?"

"It's a deal," Hutch agreed.

A few minutes later, Starsky pulled the car up into a parking space near the market. He led the way and Hutch followed close behind. Starsky went straight for the meat counter, choosing some pastrami for sandwiches when he was on shift and meatballs for tomorrow night. Hutch chose a chicken and offered to make a roast that evening. He then persuaded Starsky to enter the produce aisle and choose some vegetables for dinner. Hutch also picked up some salad, coleslaw and something he told Starsky was goat's milk.

Starsky started to get the idea that Hutch was a definitely a healthy eating freak, especially when they split up and met up again at the till. Starsky had gathered apple pie and cream, Hutch was carrying something that purported to be kelp, whatever that was, and a jar of molasses. Suddenly looking very anxious, Hutch looked for his wallet and then remembered he'd left it in the glove compartment of his car. Starsky spotted the panic and realised the reason for it.

"Hey, I've got this, buddy. Your turn next time."

Hutch let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and nodded gratefully at Starsky. They packed the goods into brown paper bags together and carried them out to the car, where they slipped them into the trunk next to Hutch's cases.

Starsky kept up a flow of chatter as they drove the last couple of miles to the beach. He could feel Hutch's tension rising as they neared their destination. He wondered how being reminded of what he had tried to do was going to affect Hutch, especially so soon after the attempt. As they arrived on the beach road, Hutch silently pointed to his car, a beige Ford that was few years old. Starsky pulled over next to it and got out to walk with Hutch to collect his car.

Hutch unlocked the car and slipped into the driver's seat and Starsky walked round to the other side. As Hutch recovered his wallet from the glove compartment, Starsky looked through the passenger window and noticed the sleeping pill packets and collection of empty beer bottles on the floor. That explains a lot about this morning, he thought. Without a word, he opened the door and collected all of the items up and dumped them in the nearest bin.

When he returned, Starsky opened the car windows to let out the smell of stale beer. He looked at Hutch, checking he looked okay to drive.

"Okay, Hutch. You remember the way to my place or do ya want to follow me?"

"I'll follow you," Hutch said.

Starsky grinned at him as he shut the door and said through the open window, "I'll try to keep to the speed limit."

He was pleased to see Hutch shake his head and smile in response. So far he was handling being back at the beach okay. If Starsky could keep his mind from brooding, hopefully they would get through the rest of the day without too much emotional upheaval.

TBC