Overheated
July had been hot. The first few days of August were proving to be even hotter. Hutch wiped futilely at his already sweaty brow and sighed. It wasn't even eight yet and the temperature was soaring.
"I feel like my brain's melted," he moaned out loud.
Next to him, Starsky nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, it looks like it's gonna be a hot one today."
"Going to be—it already is!"
Hutch wound down the window to try to let some air move around the car. The breeze coming in was already warm and did nothing to cool him. He sighed again and leaned his head against the door frame, closing his eyes. Starsky glanced over at him.
"Hutch? You got a headache?"
"Yeah. I took some Tylenol but it hasn't kicked in yet. I'll be okay in a while. I just wish it wasn't so hot."
"Oh." Starsky wondered how to cheer his over-heated partner up. "Only two-and-a-bit weeks to our vacation. Just think of those cool forests up in the mountains. We'll get there, kick off our shoes and do nothing. You'll be as cool as you please."
Hutch smiled a little, eyes still closed. He murmured, "Can't wait."
The radio sprang to life, calling the pair of them to investigate a 1-87 reported in a dumpster in an alleyway behind Morlock Street. Starsky grimaced. A dead body on a hot day was even worse than a dead body at any other time of year. As Hutch quietly responded to Dispatch, Starsky turned the car towards the other end of their patch and picked up a little speed—but only a little, he was acutely aware that Hutch had closed his eyes again and his forehead was furrowed with pain. He hoped for Hutch's sake the call-out wouldn't take long to deal with. As much as he usually teased his partner about his inability to cope with heat, he could see that Hutch was really struggling today.
Fortunately, the investigation didn't take that long. Even so, by the time they'd processed the scene and got back into the Torino, Hutch was sporting a bright red face.
"You all right, buddy? Only you look like a broiled-"
"-Lobster. I know!" Hutch interrupted tetchily. "I always go beet-red when I get really hot. It's embarrassing!" He flopped back in the passenger seat, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. "I wish your car had air conditioning!"
Starsky bit back the retort, "Well, maybe if you'd spent more on your own car, it would have air conditioning," and instead said, "Well, let's head back to the office and do the paperwork. It's cooler there."
Hutch nodded gratefully.
The radio sprang to life again and Hutch groaned. It appeared it was going to be a long, hot and busy day.
/\/\/\/\/\
By the time they finally made it back to the squad room, it was gone two. They'd managed to eat half of their quick-stop lunch and drink half a coffee before the radio had interrupted, demanding their attention again. As they sat typing up their reports, Starsky kept an eye on Hutch. His partner had taken off his thin cotton shirt (that he used to cover his gun when they were out) and was now sitting in just a white t-shirt. Starsky thought he still looked as if the oppressive heat was bothering him but at least he appeared to have stopped sweating so much, which he guessed was a good thing. His partner seemed to be typing at half his normal speed and his brow was still furrowed. This time with concentration as if he was having trouble thinking what to write.
Absentmindedly, Hutch reached for the cup of water beside his typewriter. It was empty. He sighed as he stood up and then took one step forwards.
Starsky had never seen anything like it before: one minute Hutch was on his feet, the next he was falling backwards like a tree that had been felled in the forest. His head narrowly missed the corner of the next detective's desk.
"Hutch!"
Starsky was on the floor beside his partner in a second. Dobey came running into the squad room.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"I don't know, Cap. He just went down. He's been complaining all day of being too hot and having a headache. That's all I know."
Starsky checked his partner was breathing all right, which he was. He checked his pulse. Hutch's heart was beating fine but his skin felt hot under Starsky's fingers. Starsky lightly tapped his cheek, trying to wake his partner up.
"Hey Hutch, come on, buddy. Wake up."
There was no response.
"His skin feels hot, really hot," Starsky observed.
"Call for an ambulance," Dobey told one of the other detectives in the squad room. He pulled a large, clean handkerchief from his jacket pocket and held it under the tap of the water cooler. When it was sufficiently wet, he handed it to Starsky.
"I think we better try and keep him as cool as we can until the ambulance gets here. Someone bring the fan in from my room and plug it in. Let's see if we can make it less hot in here."
Detective Smith hurried to get the fan and plugged it in to the socket nearest to where Hutch lay. Instantly, the air seemed a little cooler. Starsky patted the wet cloth over Hutch's face and then laid it across his forehead, hoping that would help.
After a few minutes, they heard the siren of the ambulance as it arrived and only moments later, the two-man crew was being shown into the room. Starsky moved out of the way so they could check Hutch out. He answered their questions and watched as they worked. He was horrified to see that, when one of them pinched the skin on Hutch's forearm, it stayed sticking up for some seconds before slowly returning into place.
"Why's his skin doing that?" Starsky asked.
"It means he's dehydrated," one man answered. "Has he drunk anything today?"
Starsky tried to remember. "A cup of water when we got back here. Half a cup of coffee at lunch. Before that I don't know."
The man, who'd asked, nodded as he and his fellow crew member carefully placed Hutch onto a stretcher and began to lift him up. "We'll get him started on saline in the ambulance and they'll be able to fix him up at the hospital."
Starsky looked at Dobey. Before he could ask, Dobey waved at him. "Go. Ring me later and let me know how he's doing. I'll join you in a couple of hours."
Starsky nodded and hurried out after the ambulance crew and his unconscious partner.
/\/\/\/\/\
The next day, Starsky called around a couple of hours after his shift ended mainly to see how Hutch was doing but also to tell him something. He'd had a busy day organising a surprise for his partner and he hoped he was up to it. As he walked in, he called out, "Hey buddy. How are ya feeling?"
Hutch was sitting on the couch, reading. Starsky was pleased to see a jug and glass of water set on the coffee table next to his partner's bare feet. He was in green shorts and a white t-shirt and looked considerably better than when Starsky had finally left him last night.
The hospital had released Hutch late last evening, forgoing an overnight stay, on the proviso that Starsky would stay with him that evening and make sure he drank plenty of fluids and didn't over-exert himself. Within a few minutes of the first saline drip, Hutch had begun to come around, indicating that, although he was dehydrated, it wasn't at a life-threatening stage. After a few hours of treatment, his skin was back to its normal colour and elasticity so the doctor at the hospital was happy to release him. Dobey had also told him to take the day off and take the weekend to recover fully and it seemed as if Hutch was doing just that.
"Much better."
All the windows were open and a nice breeze was wafting through the apartment. Starsky, who'd had a busy and hot day, was glad of the change of temperature.
"You look hot," observed Hutch. "You want something cold to drink?"
"Yeah but I'll get it," Starsky responded as Hutch went to get up. He quickly collected a cold root beer from the fridge and then walked over to the closest chair and flopped on it. "I been doing a little organising, buddy," Starsky said. "Do you feel up to a late drive tonight?"
"What? Why?"
"'Cause if you feel up to it, partner, I've managed to find a cabin that's free this weekend. I thought we could have a mini vacation before our proper one. Get you up in those mountains and keep you nice and cool. It's supposed to be high nineties this weekend and I'd like to get you away from here if I can."
Hutch shook his head with affection. "I'm sorry I gave you a scare, Starsk, but I'm all right now."
Starsky looked disappointed. "You don't want to go?"
"Not if it's going to cost you a fortune, no."
Starsky waved the objection away with his hand. "The cabin belongs to Arnold in accounting. He's not using it this weekend and it's only two hours away. He said I could have it for free if I gave him a hand tuning up his station wagon next weekend. Seemed more than a fair trade. So what do you say?"
"What about food?"
"Car's packed with bottled water for the journey. I got pasta, tinned tomatoes and beer. We can stop at a deli on the way out of town and get cold stuff and salad. Got my chill box ready. All you need to do is pack for two nights."
Hutch stood up and smiled down at his partner.
"Sounds great. I've already watered my plants today so they should be all right for the weekend. If you don't mind closing all the windows except the one in the greenhouse, I'll go pack."
Starsky stood up and nodded at his partner.
"Jump to it. Let's get on the road."
As Hutch passed by his partner, he patted his stomach. "Thanks, Starsk. It sounds like just what I need."
Starsky grinned with pleasure and hurried to walk around the apartment closing the windows. Hopefully, a weekend away from the heat and noise of Bay City would be the full cure for his easily over-heated partner.
It was true that Hutch's sudden collapse had scared him. He didn't think he would be able to get the image of him looking like a felled tree out of his mind for a while to come and he was certainly never going to let him go without water again on a hot day. Hopefully, they had both learned a valuable lesson and yesterday would never be repeated.
When Hutch was ready, the two of them walked outside to Starsky's car and climbed in. The air was still shimmering with heat even though the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky. Before they set off, Starsky reached in the back and handed Hutch a flask.
"What's this?"
"Iced water. I know it's hot out here but once we get out of the city, it will start to cool down. That should keep you cool till we get up into the mountains."
Hutch huffed a chuckle. "Thanks. I really, really scared you, didn't I?!"
Starsky started the Torino's engine and headed towards the direction of the interstate.
"Yeah, maybe a bit. Don't do it again, okay?"
"Okay, buddy," Hutch said, as he placed a hand on Starsky's shoulder using touch as usual to reassure his partner. "I promise to drink a gallon of water every day from now on!"
"Maybe not that much. You might float away," Starsky said. "How about half a gallon, starting now?"
Hutch snorted. "Only if you're happy to stop for a restroom every ten minutes! We won't make it to the cabin before morning at that rate!"
Both chuckling, they began to relax as they thought about leaving the hot and dusty streets of Bay City behind them and heading towards the mountains for some well deserved and much needed R and R.