Hey there! This is actually just a short little adventure fluff, because I´m right in the middle of a huuuuge dark h/c-story, and I needed some relaxation.
Writer´s vacation, so to speak.
That´s what this is. There´s a little h/c in this one too, though, and I guess a slight language warning should be announced here. Nothing really horribly bad, though. Don´t worry.
Disclaimers are as usual, I don´t own the cute ones, but only the weirdos. Well, someone has to own them too, huh?
Have fun!!! (Feedback would--of course--be appriciated. *whistle innocently*)
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EERIE, CALIFORNIA
by wuemsel
"No."
"Aw, come on, Starsk, hmmmm? It´s gonna be..."
"Don´t you DARE say fun, Hutch!" Dave Starsky interrupted his partner sharply, his finger raised in a Hutch-like manner, while he glared at him over the piles of paper on his desk.
"...a valuable experience," Ken Hutchinson finished his sentence unimpressed.
"I bet," Starsky muttered and shoved a bunch of files across his desk until they landed on his partner´s.
Hutch frowned at that, and opened his mouth to protest, but was kept from it by his friend´s further statements.
"Sleeping in bear poop and dying of some gross mosquito disease that has you walking around with big green splotches or whatever surely would be SUCH a valuable experience. Unfortunately, I have other plans."
"Yeah, like writing your reports," Hutch replied with a sweet grin and shoved the pile of papers back to Starsky´s desk, so that it crashed into another one and landed heavily in Starsky´s lap.
Returning the grin Hutch presented him with a dirty look, the curly haired detective lifted the paper off himself and let it fall back onto Hutch´s desk with a force that sent the blond jerking away from his desk.
"Wrong, Blondie," he stated while he sat down again, brushing imaginary dust off his faded jeans. "Try lying at the beach the whole day long, slurping daiquiris out of pineapples while watching the latest swimsuit fashions stroll by and wait-"
"Yeah," Hutch interrupted him dryly. "With special emphasis on WAITING."
"This is not the way to talk me into the wilderness, partner," Starsky lectured him, unimpressed, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. "Uh uh."
Hutch snorted. A short silence passed, Hutch eyed the pile on his desk, contemplating about shoving it back again, but finally picked up the first file and opened it, fully aware of the secret glance he achieved for that.
"So," he asked matter-of-factly, looking down at the file without reading a single word, "you want to spend the first free week we´ve had in month at home, that it?"
"No, that´s not it," Starsky replied. He too had placed a file in front of him, but hadn´t even opened it, before looking at his partner again, a wide grin on his face. "I´m gonna spend the first free week we´ve had in month in Miami."
"Oh yeah?" Hutch asked, raising his brows in mock interest.
"Yep."
"To do what? Play hide and seek with the alligators?" the blond asked sweetly.
Starsky tilted his head to one side, the grin growing even more. "You´re not scaring me," he sang.
Hutch stared at him and suddenly sighed in frustration, throwing the pen he´d held back onto the unseen file. "Oh come on! Miami?! What´s in Miami, anyway?!"
"Soon? Me," Starsky answered, and after a second of watching his friend´s disgusted _expression, he raised his hands in agitation. "Hutch, I don´t want to pay our yearly visit to Gentle Ben and Khaa the Snake this week! We´ve had a lot of stress lately and all I wanna do is relax!"
"So do I."
"No," Starsky shook his head fiercely. "What YOU want is to drag me into another one of those green hells with rattlesnakes and baked squirrel for dinner and rain and bugs and spiders and boring tours through a boring forest and NO TV and NO fun! What you call relaxation is what they used to torture supposed witches in the medieval ages. They dragged them out into some forlorn green place and left them there to live with the beasts or die."
Hutch stared at him with mockingly wide eyes. "Have you been reading those magazines again, buddy? Didn´t I tell you to not belie-"
"I want sun and a beach and a REAL bed," Starsky cut him off agitatedly. He picked up the file on his desk and sent it flying to the one on Hutch´s for pure emphasis. "And nothing you´ll do or say will change my plans for this week. I deserve this week off, Hutch. And I deserve to spend it in civilization!"
The blond eyed him with surprised concern that wasn´t quite honest. "Wow, you really need this time off, you know that, buddy? You´re as tense as a rubber band."
Starsky narrowed his eyes, looking right through the worry that was forced to shine in otherwise twinkling light blue seas.
"Hm-mm," he muttered, unconvinced.
Hutch sighed, knowing that tactic wasn´t going to be a success. "Staaaarsk," he whined. "You live in California, for Christ´s Sake, you have sunshine 24-7 and you went to the beach just yesterday!"
"Investigating a crime scene beach is NOT what I meant," Starsky shot back. "I meant a REAL beach."
"I live next to a real beach! You´re there every day. You don´t need a beach, you need some time away from all this stress and-"
"I need Miami!"
"-and the roaring of the city. I bet some fresh air would do you good. You´re really not looking so well, d´you know that?" Bending over a little, Hutch examined his friend´s face more closely. "I´m serious here, buddy. Those drawn lines around the nose and the strained _expression... The calming serenity of a silent lake could wipe all that away in a day. Just think of the quietness and peacefulness of the woods," he added enthusiastically and closed his eyes for emphasis. "Hm? Don´t you feel the urge to just run out of here and-"
"You bet I do," Starsky´s dry voice interrupted him.
The words appearing like a slap to his face, Hutch´s head fell onto his desk, hidden from Starsky´s view behind the pile of paper between them.
"I want to go camping," a pathetic little voice reached the dark man´s ears, and he sighed at the unwanted sympathy that swept through him at that. Forcing himself to look at the file in front of him, he ignored it.
After a short while, Hutch lifted his head again, presenting his partner with his best sick-puppy-look he only used in absolute emergencies.
"I wanna go camping," he repeated.
"I´m NOT listening."
"I need to go camping this week."
"I don´t hear nothin´."
"Starskyyyy."
The curly head finally snapped up. "What d´you want from me?!" the detective half whined, half yelled.
Hutch smiled like a little boy.
"No!" Starsky shook his head desperately. "No, no, no, no, no! I´m going to Miami and that´s that! Why don´t you go camping by yourself? Why do you always have to drag me there with you?"
"It´s dangerous to go camping alone," Hutch said as if Starsky had just asked the dumbest of questions.
"Ahaaaaaa! See?! DANGEROUS. You said it yourself. It´s dangerous to go camping!"
"Alone," Hutch added unimpressed.
Starsky winked. "It´s dangerous no matter what. Whenever we go camping something happens. And usually not to you, I might add. It´s always me who gets bitten or stung or who catches a cold or has to sleep on the anthill. And at least at half of our camping trips we ran into trouble, because you alwayspick the ONE forest where there´s a nest of serial killers on the loose or somethin´. But not this time. Uh uh. I´m not going to give in this time."
Hutch looked at him, pursing his lower lip.
Starsky frowned for a brief second. He hadn´t known theblond´s eyes could get THAT wide, but he pulled himself together quickly and forced a stern look into his deep blue eyes.
"No."
Hutch´s lip started quivering.
Starsky rolled his eyes. 'And he always tells everyone I´m the child of this duo...Jeez!'
"NO! How `bout a compromise?" he suggested.
Hutch frowned questioningly.
"You come with me to Miami and I allow you to pitch your tent in the room."
Not changing his tactics, Hutch swallowed the reply that came to his mind and turned to staring his partner to the ground again. He´d only recently discovered that though he´d tried that thelittle-boy-lost-look before--as said, on emergencies--but that its effect had improved drastically after his near-death experience with the plague...
"Stop that!" Starsky ordered desperately, hiding his face in his hands."I´m going to fly to Miami, and no God damn puppy look is gonna change that! I´m NOT going camping! I´m not. I will not give in!"
****
"I can´t BELIEVE I´m doing this."
At the devastated statement from his right, Hutch turned to present his driving partner with a wide, happy grin.
"And stop grinning like that, will ya? Or you can walk to Neverneverland."
Hutch maintained his position just for a few seconds longer, bathing in his victory, then looked at the road again. "We could´ve taken my car, you know."
"The last time we took your car it broke down on the way to the hospital and I almost died. I´m not taking any chances this time."
Hutch rolled his eyes. Now that he had what he´d wanted, he had to face what came along with the triumph...
"Starsk, people don´t die of squirrel bites. You were just panicking. `Sides, I´m here to look out for you, right?"
"You were there then too and all YOU did was laugh!"
"Buddy, you were bitten by a SQUIRREL!" Hutch defended himself, already giggling at the memory. "Because you tried to steel its food," he added, laughing now.
Shooting his partner a dirty look, Starsky growled. "ITS food, `course.That was my candy bar. Even the damn animals don´t like to eat what´s out here. You´re the only one who actually wants to be here. I bet if I´d offer any shitty little animal out here a ticket to Miami, I could get a ten years supply of nuts."
Hutch, still chuckling, patted Starsky´s shoulder sympathetically. "I really *giggle* appreciate your coming with me, you know."
"Bla, bla, bla..."
The blond smiled, somehow enjoying the familiar grumpiness next to him that belonged to camping trips. When he´d taken Starsky along with him for the first time, he´d been annoyed at his friend´s openly displayed displeasure and disapproval of nature.
But over the years it had somehow changed into a vacation tradition that Starsky would moan and whine and grumble throughout the whole drive and the first day, but eventually would enjoy their stay as much as Hutch, if not even more. Seeing how his friend could enjoy the beauty of nature or the sight of animals in their natural environment with a childlike wonder he himself had lost when reaching adulthood sometimes left Hutch a little jealous, though most of the time, he used the smaller man´s enthusiasm to find it inside himself too.
That was the real reason he didn´t want to go camping alone, but always together with his easily fascinated partner. It helped him to find the kid hidden somewhere in his own heart.
"Hey," Starsky´s voice brought him back to the here and now. "Blondie."
"Yeah?"
"Last stop before Bug Paradise."
Following the dark man´s outstretched finger, Hutch saw a small diner and a gas station next to it on the side of the road. Straight ahead the forest they were heading to was already announced on a big, colorful sign.
"You want to stop there?" he asked, frowning. "What for? We´re almost there."
"You are going to buy me a hamburger in there," Starsky said in a voice that made disagreeing impossible. "You owe me more, but I´ll come back to that when we´re home again."
"You´re so gracious," Hutch commented dryly.
"I know. Don´t thank me just now, though."
"I won´t. Don´t worry."
Decision made, Starsky pulled over at the parking place next to the diner. That was the first mistake he made on that trip.
****
The diner wasn´t very well visited, but since the actual camping season hadn´t really started yet, and even during that time only few people chose that particular forest, that wasn´t surprising.
The two detectives sat down at a table and ordered their meals. While waiting for them, they both occupied themselves with studying their surroundings--Hutch the outside, Starsky the inside.
While the blond stared longingly at the big trees that seemingly had no space between them, Starsky read the menu a dozen times, and wondered what the few people that sat hunched over their coffee and eggs did for a living. There´d been no trucks outside the diner, so they had to have some other jobs that brought them to places like this.
'Poor guys,' the curly haired detective thought, the sympathy evident on his face without him being aware of it.
"Hey, buddy, you okay?"
"Huh?" Starsky made, turning to glance questioningly at Hutch. "D´you say somethin´?"
"Yeah, you alright?" Hutch asked, all worry gone from his eyes, though, at the assuring sight of Starsky blinking as if waking from a dream.
"Am I alright? I´m a mile and a half from Fort Ant! What kind of a question is that? D´you WANT to bug me with this or what?!"
A contented grin crossed Hutch´s lips. "Thought so."
Grumbling a little more, Starsky looked over his shoulder at the elderly waitress who now brought them their food. His mood improved a little at that.
Hutch didn´t eat anything, only slurped his coffee, one of his long outstretched legs shaking a little at his eagerness to get going again.
Starsky rolled his eyes. "You know, you can start walking any time you want, blintz. I´ll collect you when I´m done here."
Hutch made a 'very funny'-face and snatched a chip from his partner´s plate.
Only so he´d be done sooner, Starsky assumed, amused despite himself.
"For someone who normally downs half a cow with one gulp, you´re pretty slow today," the blond mumbled, reaching for another chip, only to have his hand swatted away.
"You noticed, huh?" Starsky teased.
Before Hutch could come up with an appropriate reply, a tall young man suddenly appeared next to their table, looking at them with wide, brown eyes. He was no more than a kid actually, barely twenty, his boyish features making him look even younger. He wore a flannel shirt that stretched over his muscular chest, and all in all gave the impression of a very young woodcutter.
The detectives raised their brows at him questioningly.
"Hi," the kid said with a shy wave of his right hand. The gesture looked almost ridiculous, not fitting for a bulky guy like him.
Before either Starsky or Hutch could answer, the kid asked, "That car out there yours? The one that looks like a Coke?"
Hutch´s head snapped sharply forward again, his eyes were not twinkling, more overflowing with mischief and amusement, focused on his partner.
Starsky´s face fell slightly. The cloud that had covered his blue eyes ever since he´d been talked into camping again, darkened even more.
"That, my young friend," he started in a voice so quiet Hutch´s suppressed giggles could be heard over it, "is a 1976 Ford Torino, and it is candy apple red with a snow white stripe on it that has absolutely NO resemblance to any soft drink´s outfit whatsoever."
The kid blinked in confusion, then looked at the blond for help.
Hutch smiled friendly. "Yep," he said, "the Coke´s his."
At the dirty glare he received for his helpfulness, he grinned at the young man, ignoring his partner.
"Oh," the guy smiled. "That´s a great car. I like it."
"Oh yeah? Maybe you shouldn´t insult it th-"
"You do?" Hutch cut his friend´s mumbles off. "Funny. You look rather smart."
The kid blinked again, then grinned. "Yeah, I´m smart."
A short pause followed, the detectives exchanged a quick glance. Suddenly, Starsky´s eating reached its normal speed again, while Hutch smiled at the kid who obviously had no intention of moving anytime soon.
"Uh, are you from here...uhm...?" Hutch asked, raising his brows.
"Yeah," the kid answered, either not understanding the unasked question or not wanting to answer it.
"And what d´you do...kid?" Hutch asked, deciding that he didn´t want to know the guy´s name, anyway. A glance out of the corner of his eye told him they were halfway out of there.
"I really like your car," the kid told Starsky instead of a reply.
"Mfanks," the detective said, chewing the last bite of his hamburger.
"Can I...Could I take a closer look at it?" the nameless young man asked with an enthusiastic childlike sparkle in his eyes that made Hutch smile unconsciously. "It´s just...You know, there ain´t many people coming here and all, and, honest, sir, your car´s the coolest thing I´ve ever seen."
"Oh. Is that so?" Starsky beamed, all irritation wiped off his face and being replaced by a full-hearted Starsky Special Grin.
The kid nodded fiercely.
"Well..."
Hutch rolled his eyes, mumbling the words that followed beneath the hand he placed his chin on.
"You know, Hutch, this fine young man seems to have taste. If not potential."
The blond nodded in mock agreement, but remained silent.
"It´s a good thing when kids are interested in anything these days," the smaller man continued in a somewhat poor oldtimer-voice.
"Sure is," Hutch muttered.
"Well, come on, kid, I´ll give you the grand tour, while my buddy here pays our bill. Right, Hutch?"
"Uhm..." Hutch started, but Starsky had already shoved the much taller young man outside the diner. Looking after the pair eagerly approaching the Torino, the blond sighed. "Right."
He then stood and made the short way over to the bar to pay for Starsky´s lunch and his coffee, when suddenly a familiar sound reached his ears.
A sound he hadn´t quite expected to hear.
"What the...?!"
But when he whirled around on his heels, all he could see through the large window was the dust wave the Torino had sent infiltrating the air when shooting onto the street with full speed.
A frown crawled over Hutch´s forehead as he still stood where he´d turned around, gaping. The Torino, the kid and his partner where nowhere in sight. The dust slowly settled on a Starsky-less ground.
"Uhm...D-did anyone just see th..." the dumbfounded detective started to ask, addressing the handful of other guests, but hushed when he noticed his words met by obviously deaf ears.
"Hello? Folks?"
"What d´you want, mister?" the elderly waitress asked from behind the bar, annoyed.
Hutch turned to meet her gaze, agitation quickly pushing away the initial shock. "Did you see what happened outside?"
"Outside where?"
Hutch stared at her blankly. "Outside there!" he finally replied in a half-yell, pointing a long finger at the window behind him. "My friend just walked out there with one of your customers and they drove off. You stood here all the time, so-did you see what happened?"
She frowned at him disapprovingly. "Well, seems to me like you know what happened. What´re you wasting my time for? Are you leaving now? That´s five thir-"
"I can´t leave, I got no car!"
"That´s your problem, Blondie, not mine. Fife thir-"
"Lady, are you pulling my leg or something, cause it´s not funny." He glanced around the room almost frantically, none of the men had moved an inch. They didn´t even chew or drank. They just sat there.
"Are those guys stuffed?!" he asked in frustration, and quickly continued before she could respond. "D´you know the guy who talked to us over there? Tall kid, brown hair, wore a-"
"Oh," she muttered and nodded slowly as if he´d just now switched to a language she spoke. "Now I get it. Tiny Tim." She laughed, shaking her head. "You talked to Tiny Tim, didn´t you? You´re one of the two guys with that car."
Hutch stared at her, wondering if they had an integration program out there for the mentally bewildered. "Yes," he finally said very slowly. "Yes, that´s right, I´m one of the two guys with the car that´s not out there anymore. Neither is the other guy of the two with the car. So, please, would you tell me what the fu...what´s going on here?" he concluded with a sweet smile.
"You talked to Tiny Tim," she answered matter-of-factly and shrugged. "You shoulda known better. Five thir-"
"We shoulda known WHAT? Who is Tiny Tim?"
"You talked to him."
For about a split second Hutch thought about drawing his gun, but settled for a deep, calming breath and a friendly smile. "As you may have noticed, Miss, I´m not from here. So plea-"
"You´re not?" she frowned, then arched her lips to a light smile. "See, I thought I´d never seen you two before. Where you from?"
"Bay City. Listen, lady, please, I need help here. Who is this guy? He comes here often? D´you have any idea why he might...steel a car?"
'Or a cop?'
"Oh, no," she winked, laughing amusedly. "Tiny Tim doesn´t steel. He borrows cars. He likes them."
"Borrows," Hutch repeated tonelessly.
"Yes. He´s crazy about cars, but see, he ain´t got no driver´s license. They wouldn´t let him have one because he´s...you know."
Hutch nodded in slow motion. "A-and what does he do with the cars?"
She shrugged again. "Drives around for a few hours. Nothing bad. He´s a good kid. Lives in the village here. We all do. We all like Tiny Tim. He´s a good worker. You´re not gonna call the cops now or somethin´, are you?" she asked, suddenly worried. "He really means no harm, honest. Just wants to drive. He told me about your car, but I thought what with it being Friday today, he wouldn´t do it. Well, guess I was wrong."
Deciding to let the Friday-comment go by unquestioned, Hutch sighed, pinching the back of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "You sure he´ll come back?"
"Oh yeah. Don´t worry, honey. He´s a good driver."
"Uh huh. And what about my friend?"
She frowned. "What d´you mean?"
"Since he´s not outside I guess my friend is with Tiny Tim," Hutch replied, his momentary relief vanishing fast when he saw the frown on her face deepen.
"Oh."
"What d´you mean 'oh'?" the blond asked, placing his hands on the bar to lean in closer. "H-he won´t...do anything to Starsky, right? Right? You said he was harmless."
"He is," she hurried to assure him. "He is. Most of the time."
"MOST OF THE TIME?!"
"I-I mean he...Gee, he never TOOK someone with him, you know. He just borrows cars. Most people don´t even notice. They stay here long enough or they understand when I explain. He doesn´t do it that often, just...every time strangers stop by."
At Hutch´s widening eyes, she added, "Maybe your friend agreed to accompany Tiny Tim. He likes company. Maybe he ask-"
"Maybe he freaked out! Maybe you should have told us that the kid´s a goddamn looney toon!"
"Hey, don´t blame me, honey. How was I to know your frie-"
"Partner," Hutch interrupted her, fumbling at the pocket of his jacket to produce his badge. "Partner. We´re cops. See? Your Tiny Tim just 'borrowed' a police car and probably kidnapped a police officer."
"Kidna...Tiny Tim´d never KIDNAP anyone! Your partner must have scared him or something!" she yelled angrily. "Why can´t you guys just leave the poor kid alone?"
"Why can´t w...HE STOLE OUR CAR! And God knows what he did to Stars...H-hey, he...he wouldn´t hurt Starsky, when noticing he´s a cop, would he?"
There was a short pause Hutch didn´t like.
"Would he?"
"N-no, probably not," she replied, blinking up at the blond. "He never took anyone with him before. And surely never a cop." Another pause occurred. "I don´t know what he´d do if he finds out. Maybe he´d get scared."
Hutch felt all color draining from his face. He swallowed dryly. "And when he´s scared?"
Her brows arched in sympathy. "Well, he IS kinda strong and he doesn´t really know that. I mean..."
Looking away from his panicked look, she added halfheartedly, "But as long as your partner doesn´t provoke him, I´m sure he´s no danger to him at all."
"Oh `triffic," Hutch mumbled, his head falling into his hands on the bar.
****
Starsky shook his head to clear it when he felt more alert and up to accomplishing that task without passing out again.
It was then he saw the road out of the front window, racing by with incredible speed, and the shocked, scared _expression on the young features next to him.
He had no clear memory of how he´d ended up on the passenger seat with a lump on his head, but was determined to find out.
"What the hell´s going on here?!" he demanded, shifting his body to a more upright position. He contemplated about trying to gain control over the wheel, but at that speed it would have been a verystupid move.
"You´re a cop," the kid said, glancing at him.
"Right," Starsky answered, irritated. "A pissed cop. And... Will you keep your eyes on the road!"
"Oh." With quick reflexes, the kid steered the car back to the street before it would have rammed into a tree at the side of the road.
"Jeez," Starsky breathed.
"Sorry," came a mumbled apology from the young man.
"For what, nearly killing us both or kidnapping me?"
The kid actually seemed to think about that, then looked at the detective again. "You´re a cop," he said. "Why´re you a cop? Damn it!"
"Uhm..." Starsky began confused, but the young man wasn´t done yet. With one hand he grabbed the front of the smaller man´s shirt and held him in a death grip.
"Your car doesn´t look like a police car! How should I´ve known you're a cop?!"
"Y-ya could have *cough* asked," Starsky choked out, grasping wearily at the strong, large hands holding him. "Hey...kid...d´you mind...?"
The kid grumbled, but finally let go of Starsky, pushing him roughly back into the seat.
"Damn," he muttered again, hitting the wheel with one hand. "Now you´ll arrest me like you did with my dad, right? Right?!"
"Listen, kid, I don´t know who your father is. You know, actually, I´m not really a cop here," he explained like he would to a child. "I can´t arrest anyone in this county. Well, not as a cop, that is. See, nothing will happen. So why don´t you just turn around and drive back? You don´t really want-"
"I can´t go back!" the kid yelled so loudly the detective visibly shrank away from him. "They always told me not to get in trouble with the cops. Because of what happened to my dad. A-and I never..." Frustrated, he reached out for Starsky again, but he flinched away successfully.
"Your car doesn´t look like a police car! It´s all your fault!!!"
Starsky could tell the young man was about to lose it. There were tears glittering in the big, brown eyes, and he could barely contain his rage about the unfairness of what was happening to him any longer.
"Hey," the detective said in the most calming tone he could muster, "listen to me. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. As long as you stop the car right now, turn around and drive back to the diner."
The young man shook his head fiercely.
"No one will arrest you, I swear. It´s all gonna okay. Just turn around and-"
"Shut up!"
Starsky flinched back again. The whole situation was starting to frighten him. It was obvious the kid hadn´t meant any harm when Starsky had shown him the Torino´s interior, but somehow he must have noticed that the curly haired man was a cop.
That was probably when he´d freaked out and knocked him out. He´d probably been just too scared, too confused to shove the detective out of the car then.
'Yeah, or maybe he REALLY dislikes cops...' Starsky thought dreadfully, and gulped, his eyes wandering up to the furious face carefully, as if even a fast look could enrage his captor further.
"Kid, hey, I´m n-"
"Stop calling me kid! I ain´t no kid anymore! I know what´s going on! You just want to sweet talk me back and then-"
"No! I want nothing of the kind. I want..." 'Out of here. Alive.' "Ahm, what´s your name?"
"Tim."
"Tim. Turn the car around."
Tim looked over at the detective who forced a wide, encouraging smile on his face, raising his brows.
Normally, Starsky´s smile was irresistible. Honest. Open. Trustworthy.
But Tim was beyond believing with fear. So he grabbed Starsky´s shirt again, before the smaller man could back away.
"I´m not falling for this! I may be stupid, but I ain´t THAT stupid."
"Didn´t say you wer-"
The rest of the choked words were interrupted by a sharp shove. The curly head hit the passenger door with a sickening thud, and the detective went limp in Tim´s grip.
Brown eyes widened under arched brows. "Uh...Cop? H-hey," he shook the still form roughly, but got no response. "Hey, wake up. I-I didn´t mean it. Cop? Sir? Officer?"
Starsky didn´t wake up.
Tim gulped and let go off him. The boneless body fell slack back in the seat, Starsky´s head lolling to one side to rest against the door. A think line of blood slowly made its way down from somewhere in the thick hair down his cheek.
"Uh uh," Tim muttered, and without a second thought pulled over to a small road leading into the dark forest.
****
It had started to rain hours ago.
Thick, heavy drops crashed against the window glass like insects.
Hutch checked his watch for the hundredth time, seeing he´d managed to sit still for two minutes, then turned around on the bar stool to look at Wendy, the elderly waitress.
"Wendy, please. It´s been three hours now," he pleaded.
She glanced at him from where she dried a glass, but quickly tore her eyes away from the _expression on his face.
After having tried everything from ranting to yelling to threatening to begging, the blond had finally settled for the same tactics that had gotten him and his partner into this mess--staring Wendy into the ground with the The Look.
Since he had no car, and no authority to just confiscate one, he was forced to remain where he was unless he got help from the other customers.
Which he didn´t. Though some of them had finally moved on several occasions, not one of them had listened to his pleas for help. The only time he´d been met by actual awareness of his presence was when he´d been disarmed by one of the woodcutters after the other few had diplomatically exclaimed they´d beat him to a pulp, if he wouldn´t hand over his gun.
Being the understanding man he was, Hutch had obeyed instantly.
Ever since then, he sat on the bar chair, trying to get Wendy to let him use the phone. But she wouldn´t allow him to call the theft in. Instead she kept on assuring him Tiny Tim would return soon, together with a completely unharmed Starsky. The whole thing, she said, would be something to laugh about when they both returned to the city. Right?
Besides, to make it up to him, the coffee was on the house.
When she´d announced that with a warm, gracious smile, Hutch had truly been grateful for having been disarmed before--he might have done something very regrettable...
****
"Wendy--you don´t really think he´ll come back, do you? It´s been three and a half hours. Please, let me call this in."
Even though Wendy didn´t look up at the blond, she could feel his worried blue eyes on her as if he was holding her.
"He´ll come," she muttered and flinched, when he suddenly yelled at her, having reached the end of his patience.
"When?!"
"He´s..." She sighed, and finally met his eyes. "Tiny Tim is scared of cops."
"What does that mean?"
"He´s a good boy," she said desperately. "Sure, he gets into trouble at times. He´ll always be a teen. He´s-"
"What d´you mean 'he´s scared of cops'?! Did he have trouble with the police? He´s into somethin´? What?!"
Her gaze dropped. "His father was. Into something, I mean. He was a trapper. Out there," she pointed at the nearby forest. "And one day a hiker got caught in one of the traps. It was, I don´t know, september. October maybe."
"He got caught?" Hutch asked quietly. "So what--he died?"
Wendy nodded. "Daniel, Tim´s father, was sentenced for homicide."
She peeked up at the detective again, her words rushing when she saw his eyes widen in terror. "B-but Tim´s a good kid, honest, he´s just-"
"You knew that all along, and you didn´t tell me?! I don´t believe you! Give me the phone, Wendy. Now!"
"You don´t understand-"
"Give. Me. The. Phone," Hutch said, stressing each word, as he slowly rose to his feet, as if he´d reach out and grab the woman every second.
A heavy hand on his shoulder suddenly held him in place.
"Sit down, officer," one of the woodcutter said in a toneless voice and pushed the smaller man back onto the stool for emphasis.
Hutch stretched his neck to look up into the man´s face. "Hey-"
"No one threatens Wendy," the man said.
"I didn´t threa-"
A rough grip on the front of his shirt silenced the blond painfully.
"And no one arrests Tiny Tim."
"I-I d-don..." Hutch tried to explain, but the words wouldn´t come out. He choked at the too strong hold.
"Will," Wendy said, brushing her small hand against the woodcutter´s large paw on Hutch´s throat. "Let him go."
"So that he can go and arrest our Tiny Tim?"
"I-I won´t..." Hutch croaked.
"He´ll sit tight until Tim comes back with his partner, right, Blondie?" Wendy asked sweetly, all guilt wiped off her face.
Hutch shot her an angry look, but nodded as much as he could against the man´s hand.
"Okay," the woodcutter said and let go of the blond, who, despite himself, slid from the stool to the ground, panting and rubbing his sore throat.
"And no more of this arrest-talk, you hear me? It makes us lose our appetite, right boys?"
A few mumbles were the answer, and the woodcutter nodded contentedly, then strolled over to his place and sat down to once more freeze to stone.
Hutch looked after him with unbelieving eyes. He sincerely hoped Tiny Tim had not been raised and educated by those guys.
'Starsk´s gonna kill me,' he thought and sighed. 'Why us? Why always us?!'
****
He was cold. That was the very first thing his mind informed him about.
Cold, wet, and his head hurt like hell.
Besides, he found it extremely hard to open his eyes against something heavy falling down on his face in a steady rhythm.
It was only when he slowly rolled onto his side with an agonized groan, that he became aware of rain pouring down on him.
Thick, heavy drops that felt like small blows.
Hiding his face in the crook of his arm, he shook his head ever so slightly to clear it, but found that to be the dumbest thing he could have done.
Nausea hit him like a punch to his middle, and his lunch--the fateful lunch that had started it all--decided to make a reappearance, before he even had the chance to scramble to his knees.
"Oh, uhm, sorry," he muttered wearily when the heaves finally stopped and he saw he´d been sick over an anthill.
As if attacking, a few ants crawled over to him and boarded his nose. Quickly rising from the mud, he wiped the insects away and came to a sitting position, much too fast for his damaged feeling of balance.
Blackness edged its forward inside his vision, and he squeezed his eyes shut, moaning, not really registering he was keeling over his side until he landed in a large puddle with a splash.
Coughing out water, he sat up again, but this time steadied himself with his fingers clawed into the muddy ground.
"Why do I always have to sleep on the anthill?" he sighed in a whisper and coughed a little more brown water out, fighting against reappearing nausea.
A sudden sharp pain in his head, obviously from the coughing, brought his hand up to his temple, and he rolled his eyes when he found the side of his head sticky with half-dried blood crusted on his hair and cheek.
"Think of the peacefulness of the forest, Starsky," he imitated his partner´s voice. "Gna, gna, gna. The serenity of the lake, Starsky. Bla, bla. No turkeys with guns, Starsky, gna, gna. Just you and the sun, Starsky. So help me, Hutch, if I ever get outta here, I´m gonna..."
His voice trickled off when his gaze suddenly focused on the puddle he sat in. Something peeked out at one edge. Something he knew pretty well, but that was not, absolutely not, meant to be seen like that.
"What the..."
His foot. His left bare foot. As if for assurance, he wriggled his toes slightly, then frantically lifted his right foot to check on it too.
The particularly dumb action left him falling on his back in the puddle again, and he hit the water in frustration.
"That lousy little skunk stole my SHOES!!!" he told the ants and now raised both legs in the air to stare at his muddy, wet feet. "I don´t believe this!"
The pain in his head pushed aside by his fury, he now noticed he didn´t have his jacket on anymore, either.
He had no jacket, no shoes and was soaked through.
"I´m gonna kill that kid. Right after I killed Hutch."
****
It hadn´t taken Starsky long to realize that his initial plan of finding his way out of the forest--following his nose--wasn´tgoing to get him anywhere except maybe even deeper into the labyrinth of trees.
Yet, he had no way of telling where he was, how far away from the road.
The rain still fell heavily, when he finally slumped against a branch, exhausted, and slid down until he sat on the ground, his head leaned back against the crusty branch.
He was soaked and cold, he shivered uncontrollably and his feet were almost numb, the only feeling radiatingfrom them coming from the many small cuts and scratches his way through the woods had inflicted on them.
Softly singing "It never rains in southern California" under his breath, he stared up at what he could see of the quickly darkening sky through the thick large blanket of leaves way up over his head.
Night was falling soon, and he had spent enough time with Hutch to know that the dangers a wild forest bore in the daytime was nothing compared to what spread at night.
If not a way back to the road, he had to find shelter, and fast.
Fear gnawing inside his aching head, he pushed himself up to his feet, but only made it the half way, before collapsing again. The stabbing in his head had reached an unbearable level, and he cradled his head in his hands for a few moments, willing his vision to clear.
When he looked up again, he sighed deeply and settled against the tree, gently grabbing his left foot to give it a gingerly inspection.
"Beauty of nature, gna, gna, gna," he muttered sarcastically while he wiped careful fingers over the deep, crusted cuts on his sole. "Very beautiful."
Since there was nothing he could do about his feet, he fell back against his tree in frustration.
"Oookay," he said loudly to himself, "what would Nature Boy do if he was stuck in the enchanted Water Woods with no shoes? Probably take mine," he shrugged dryly and wiped a hand over his face. It was a useless gesture, his skin was so wet he didn´t seem to recall what it felt like to be dry.
Tired, he rested his eyes for a moment that grew longer, until he forced himself to fight the exhaustion that already started to betray his senses, making him believe he wasn´t so cold anymore, but actually warm and comfy sitting there in the mud.
Moaning at the pain in his head as he stood up, he steadied himself against the tree with both hands for a second, then slowly stumbled on, looking for a safe place for the night.
His legs felt wobbly, and he knew he wouldn´t be able to remain on his feet much longer. The moon had already risen, and the high leaves twinkled at the edges in the dim light breaking through beginning darkness.
Starsky stopped briefly to look up at the nature show, the hairs on his neck rising despite himself.
He could almost hear his partner´s enthusiastic voice in his ears. "Look at this, Starsk? Isn´t that beautiful?!"
'Try scary," Starsky thought and forced himself to walk on, avoiding to look up at the moon again. He remembered a film he´d once seen, where a man had been lost in a forest, much like this one, and then bitten by a werewolf.
He quickened his steps to a half run and only stopped when he heard a tiny cracking sound beneath his bare feet.
The second he would have had to step out of the trap´s center was wasted with a dread-filled frown.
"Uh UUUUHHHHHH!!!"
The world suddenly spun around for a second that felt like an eternity. He was thrown into the air by the net-trap´s snap, then fell back into the thick material of the net, bounced off it again and finally came to a rest in the still whipping net, so crouched his knees hit against his nose with painful force each time the net swung back to place.
Almost screaming in startled fear, he interlaced his scrambling fingers in the thick rope of the net, stretching his neck backwards to hold his head up and away from his forcefully drawn up legs.
Even before the swinging trap-net finally stopped swinging violently, he could feel the ropes biting into his back, scratching against the soaked material of his shirt.
His ears were ringing, his head felt like it would burst any moment, and now that his mind had cleared enough to present him with the realization that he´d stepped into a trap, his eyes widened in fury.
The exhaustion, cold, hunger, simply everything, fell into place at once.
"FUCK!!!" he yelled, struggling against the biting hold, but of course only resulted in getting swung around in the air again. He only stopped, though, when his stomach started protesting, and lay his head back, panting.
"I´m gonna kill him!" he exclaimed loudly, not really knowing nor caring whom he actually meant.
A small bird landed on the thick branch that held the trap and peeked down at him with curious eyes.
"What´re you staring at?!" Starsky yelled at the animal, but didn´t impress it much. It moved a little closer and bent its head down even more as if inspecting the helpless man.
"Hey! You take ONE shit at me, sport, and you´re gonna regret it! Better belie- Ah!"
A very sudden violent jerk interrupted his threat.
He looked around wildly and noticed the net had loweredimmensely. He was still a few feet above the ground, but not as high as before.
"Oh no," he moaned. "No, no, no."
Feebly grabbing the ropes harder as if that could prevent the whole thing from falling down, he squeezed his eyes shut as another jerk followed.
"What I´d ever doooo?" he whined and peeked up fearfully, seeing the bird still sitting in its place.
"Get off of there," he joked halfheartedly, and the bird obeyed, flying over to sit down on the ropes over his belly.
Starsky rolled his eyes. "Oh that´s great. Hello there."
The net jerked again, the branch gave an audible crack.
"Uh, hey, you better get off of me. I don´t want no bird mush on my shir-"
The bird seemingly jumped into the air and flapped its wings frantically the second the branch broke and Starsky fell with a startled cry down to the ground.
****
When the moon had risen to its full beauty, the rain stopped as if out of admiration or respect.
Drops of moisture glittered on the concrete outsideand twinkled on the glass of the window.
Hutch had drank more coffee than he´d had since high school exams, his hands trembled uncomfortably when he lifted them to wipe over his tired features.
They were still all together in the room, not one of the woodcutters had left at the end of the day.
The worried sick detective sarcastically wondered if maybe they all lived there, in the diner. Of course he assumed they stayed to assure Wendy´s safety, and then actually, he was beyond caring. It´d been almost six hours now that he´d last seen Tiny Tim, the Torino and, most important, Starsky, and by now there was only alien abduction left for him to imagine as a possible reason for Tim´s not coming back.
Everything else, from an accident to a precisely schemed murder had already taken place in his concern-induced fantasies.
He was just about to check his watch in an exaggerated gesture again--something he´d started to do a while ago because it drove Wendy crazy--when for the second time that day he heard an unexpected, yet familiar sound.
Squealing brakes outside the diner.
A quiet tension flowed the room, the few men turned their heads by inches to look at the door out of the corners of their eyes.
Wendy stopped drying a glass and stared ahead, when the sound of the door being opened reached Hutch´s ears.
Steps followed, then the soft brushing of jeans against leather.
"Wendy, I-I want a beer, please," Tiny Tim´s voice shattered the silence like a stone crashing a window, but the kid didn´t seem to notice.
His nervousness, the audible shock and disturbance in his voice wasn´t lost on Hutch, who had been the only one to not turn around to look at the young man entering, but had just searched Wendy´s face for assurance.
Tiny Tim had returned.
Alone.
"Sure, Tiny Tim," Wendy answered the kid´s request in a whisper so soft Hutch wondered if anyone except him had been able to hear it, anyway.
He glanced to his side where the woodcutter sat, trying to figure out their what was going through their heads.
Would they hinder him from even approaching the kid, thereby clearing his path out? Or maybe not even let him get to him?
But then he could clearly see that the fact that Tim hadn´t brought his cop passenger back with him as well as his obvious distress had the men worried.
Somehow they all loved the kid, as Hutch had found out, felt responsible for him, but even so he´d never really grow up, he wasn´t a real kid anymore, either, and they knew that.
They knew he could screw up. And now they feared he might have done just that. Big time.
When he saw a few gazes slowly wander over to him, Hutch made his decision and slowly stood up, not wanting to draw the kid´s attention to himself, and strolled over to the table at the window, where Tim sat and stared out of the window at the neatly parked Torino outside.
"Excuse me," the blond said in a friendly, yet clear voice when he´d reached the table and came to a halt in front of the the bench Tim sat on.
The kid frowned at the sound of his voice and turned his head. It took his eyes a split second to reach saucer-size.
"Uh-"
"I just wondered," Hutch continued, his head tilted to one side in sarcastic mock interest. "Is that car out there yours? You know, the one that looks like a Coke?"
Without another thought, Tim jumped on the table and ran over it to the door, his speed admirable, but no match for Hutch.
The detective merely had to whirl around to grab the back of Tim´s jacket and shove him into the still closed door.
"I-I brought it back, didn´t I?!" Tim exclaimed in clear fear.
If he hadn´t been on a month´s supply of caffeine and worried crazy, Hutch would had laughed out loud at that.
"Yeah, you did, but didn´t your forget something?!"
"Uh ... Like wha-"
"Like my PARTNER, you little skunk!" Hutch yelled and whirled Tim around so that he was facing him with his back against the door.
The other guests were watching in agreement. They felt protective over Tiny Tim, and for exactly that reason they completely understood the blond detective´s reaction.
"I-I didn´t hurt him, I swear," Tim said pleadingly. He was a little taller than Hutch, but somehow it appeared as if he was looking up at him. He also outweighed him, style="BACKGROUND-CO and in a fight,
Hutch probably would have been no match for him, but the fury burning in the older man´s eyes was enough for the kid to be scared.
Hutch eyed him closely, his eyes narrowed to slits. "If you´re lying," he finally said in an ice cold whisper, "you´re gonna be sorry. Got that?"
Tim nodded quickly.
"`Kay. Where is he?"
"In the forest."
Hutch closed his eyes briefly, obviously having to restrain himself from simply lashing out at the younger man. "What´s he doing in the forest, Tim? Hm?"
"I-I-I s-saw his badge wh-when he showed me the car, and I knew he was a cop, and-"
"And you didn´t leave it then?!" the tall, broad man whose strong hands Hutch´s throat had met earlier, barked from across the room. "Jeez, Tim! Whassamatter with you?!"
"I didn´t think, I-"
"Do you ever?" Wendy sighed.
"It was like I couldn´t get away an-" Tim started to explain why he´d freaked out, but Hutch interrupted him sharply.
"The only thing I want to know from you is where you left my partner!"
At his intense glare, Tim´s gaze dropped.
"I-I...He..." he stammered, until Hutch´s patience simply ended and he once more shoved him against the door.
"Where?!"
"Th-there´s a place in the forest where I used to hide fr-from my dad when I was a kid. There. I left him there."
Hutch frowned. "IN the forest? Not near the road?!"
Tim shrugged. "It´s twenty minutes walk or so."
"Okay. Just let me get this straight--you and my unharmed, uninjured, unHURT partner WALKED through the woods for twenty minutes and then you turned around and walked back to HIS car alone. And he did NOT follow you?!"
"Uhm...Yeah," Tim smiled wearily. He paled a little and even shrank back when Hutch clutched the front of his shirt, then turned to look at the small crowd
"Can I hit him? Please?"
"Okay, okay," Tim hurried to say, raising his hands. "I somehow sorta kinda knocked him...out."
Hutch gazed back at him. "Somehow sorta kinda knocked him out hard enough to leave blood on your shirt?"
Following the blond´s glance down to a few red spots on the white material, Tim nodded sadly.
"Yeah," he said with a wry grimace. "I guess."
"You gue..." Hutch started to yell, but pulled himself together, drawing in a deep breath, before turning Tim and opening the door to shove him outside. "Okay, kid, you and me will go collect my partner now. You´ll show me the way, and when we´ve found him, we´re gonna get you a cozy little cell where-"
"You can´t arrest me!" the kid exclaimed in a panic.
"Watch me."
Still busy dragging Tim along with him to the Torino, Hutch didn´t notice the crowd of woodcutters following them.
They gathered together a little distance to the car when the blond opened the passenger door to force Tim into it, but stopped in mid-motion at the sight that met him.
"Aw, you gotta be KIDDING!" he exclaimed, letting go off the struggling young man to pick up one of Starsky´s blue running shoes that lay there together with his jacket.
Tiny Tim shrank under the detective´s furious glance until his nickname apparently fit him.
"I didn´t...didn´t want him to come after me if he wo-woke up...I mean..."
"You left a man in the forest IN THE POURING RAIN with no jacket and no SHOES?! What´re you, NUTS?!"
Tim looked wildly from Hutch to his "family" who rolled their eyes at his stupidity.
"I didn´t think! I was in panic. I think I..."
"So help me, I´m gonna..." Hutch started, throwing the shoe back onto the seat, while he made a step towards the kid who was backing away fearfully, until one of the woodcutters, Hutch´s special friend, stepped between him and the detective.
"I think you better go find your partner now, officer. It´s gonna be a cold night."
The rage on Hutch´s face was quickly replaced by disbelief. "Wha-"
"Like I said, we don´t allow anyone to arrest Tiny Tim. He may be stupid, but he belongs to the family. Besides, he regrets what he´s done. Right, Tim?"
Tim nodded fiercely.
"Well, apologize to the officer."
"Sorry," Tim said with a smile.
"Sor..." Hutch felt like hyperventilating. "Sorry?! Sorry my ass! You stole a police car, kidnapped a police officer, knocked him out, left him in a dangerous situation, STOLE HIS SHOES, and now you expect it to be all forgiven and forgotten with a simple SORRY?! What is this, kindergarten?!"
Though the tall man hadn´t moved an inch, Hutch stepped forward for emphasis, unable to contain his rage any longer, so that he followed Tim in a half circle around the unimpressed woodcutter.
"I´m not only going to arrest you, but when I´ve found my partner, I´ll leave you two alone--in a soundproof interrogation room!"
"Officer," the woodcutter finally interrupted Hutch´s rambling and reached out to grab his arm, "we understand how you feel, and I assure you the little idiot will be punished. But not by you nor anyone but us. We don´t allow Tiny Tim to be arrested."
"Bu-"
"You can leave now and find your partner, or you can stay here with us."
Hutch stared at the man, unable to find the words.
"Promise you won´t come back for Tiny Tim, and we´ll let you go."
"Wha..." A desperate laugh escaped the blond´s lips. "Are you nuts?! I´m no-"
"Yes," the woodcutter said. "I guess we are. So--what shall it be, officer?"
Hutch swallowed dryly, his eyes locked with the older one´s.
"How do I get to this place of your youth, kid?" he finally asked in defeat, his gaze never leaving the woodcutter´s who nodded contentedly at his words.
"Tim," he barked, "tell the man where his partner is and then get the hell inside."
"Hey," Hutch called after him, when he turned towards the others again, "what about my gun?"
"What about it?"
"Uh...nothing," he winced, sighing in frustration. "Nothing."
A sudden tugging at his sleeve drew his attention back to Tiny Tim who stood next to him now. "Shall I draw you a map?"
Hutch stared at him. "Yes. Please."
TBC
Writer´s vacation, so to speak.
That´s what this is. There´s a little h/c in this one too, though, and I guess a slight language warning should be announced here. Nothing really horribly bad, though. Don´t worry.
Disclaimers are as usual, I don´t own the cute ones, but only the weirdos. Well, someone has to own them too, huh?
Have fun!!! (Feedback would--of course--be appriciated. *whistle innocently*)
_________________________________________________________________
EERIE, CALIFORNIA
by wuemsel
"No."
"Aw, come on, Starsk, hmmmm? It´s gonna be..."
"Don´t you DARE say fun, Hutch!" Dave Starsky interrupted his partner sharply, his finger raised in a Hutch-like manner, while he glared at him over the piles of paper on his desk.
"...a valuable experience," Ken Hutchinson finished his sentence unimpressed.
"I bet," Starsky muttered and shoved a bunch of files across his desk until they landed on his partner´s.
Hutch frowned at that, and opened his mouth to protest, but was kept from it by his friend´s further statements.
"Sleeping in bear poop and dying of some gross mosquito disease that has you walking around with big green splotches or whatever surely would be SUCH a valuable experience. Unfortunately, I have other plans."
"Yeah, like writing your reports," Hutch replied with a sweet grin and shoved the pile of papers back to Starsky´s desk, so that it crashed into another one and landed heavily in Starsky´s lap.
Returning the grin Hutch presented him with a dirty look, the curly haired detective lifted the paper off himself and let it fall back onto Hutch´s desk with a force that sent the blond jerking away from his desk.
"Wrong, Blondie," he stated while he sat down again, brushing imaginary dust off his faded jeans. "Try lying at the beach the whole day long, slurping daiquiris out of pineapples while watching the latest swimsuit fashions stroll by and wait-"
"Yeah," Hutch interrupted him dryly. "With special emphasis on WAITING."
"This is not the way to talk me into the wilderness, partner," Starsky lectured him, unimpressed, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. "Uh uh."
Hutch snorted. A short silence passed, Hutch eyed the pile on his desk, contemplating about shoving it back again, but finally picked up the first file and opened it, fully aware of the secret glance he achieved for that.
"So," he asked matter-of-factly, looking down at the file without reading a single word, "you want to spend the first free week we´ve had in month at home, that it?"
"No, that´s not it," Starsky replied. He too had placed a file in front of him, but hadn´t even opened it, before looking at his partner again, a wide grin on his face. "I´m gonna spend the first free week we´ve had in month in Miami."
"Oh yeah?" Hutch asked, raising his brows in mock interest.
"Yep."
"To do what? Play hide and seek with the alligators?" the blond asked sweetly.
Starsky tilted his head to one side, the grin growing even more. "You´re not scaring me," he sang.
Hutch stared at him and suddenly sighed in frustration, throwing the pen he´d held back onto the unseen file. "Oh come on! Miami?! What´s in Miami, anyway?!"
"Soon? Me," Starsky answered, and after a second of watching his friend´s disgusted _expression, he raised his hands in agitation. "Hutch, I don´t want to pay our yearly visit to Gentle Ben and Khaa the Snake this week! We´ve had a lot of stress lately and all I wanna do is relax!"
"So do I."
"No," Starsky shook his head fiercely. "What YOU want is to drag me into another one of those green hells with rattlesnakes and baked squirrel for dinner and rain and bugs and spiders and boring tours through a boring forest and NO TV and NO fun! What you call relaxation is what they used to torture supposed witches in the medieval ages. They dragged them out into some forlorn green place and left them there to live with the beasts or die."
Hutch stared at him with mockingly wide eyes. "Have you been reading those magazines again, buddy? Didn´t I tell you to not belie-"
"I want sun and a beach and a REAL bed," Starsky cut him off agitatedly. He picked up the file on his desk and sent it flying to the one on Hutch´s for pure emphasis. "And nothing you´ll do or say will change my plans for this week. I deserve this week off, Hutch. And I deserve to spend it in civilization!"
The blond eyed him with surprised concern that wasn´t quite honest. "Wow, you really need this time off, you know that, buddy? You´re as tense as a rubber band."
Starsky narrowed his eyes, looking right through the worry that was forced to shine in otherwise twinkling light blue seas.
"Hm-mm," he muttered, unconvinced.
Hutch sighed, knowing that tactic wasn´t going to be a success. "Staaaarsk," he whined. "You live in California, for Christ´s Sake, you have sunshine 24-7 and you went to the beach just yesterday!"
"Investigating a crime scene beach is NOT what I meant," Starsky shot back. "I meant a REAL beach."
"I live next to a real beach! You´re there every day. You don´t need a beach, you need some time away from all this stress and-"
"I need Miami!"
"-and the roaring of the city. I bet some fresh air would do you good. You´re really not looking so well, d´you know that?" Bending over a little, Hutch examined his friend´s face more closely. "I´m serious here, buddy. Those drawn lines around the nose and the strained _expression... The calming serenity of a silent lake could wipe all that away in a day. Just think of the quietness and peacefulness of the woods," he added enthusiastically and closed his eyes for emphasis. "Hm? Don´t you feel the urge to just run out of here and-"
"You bet I do," Starsky´s dry voice interrupted him.
The words appearing like a slap to his face, Hutch´s head fell onto his desk, hidden from Starsky´s view behind the pile of paper between them.
"I want to go camping," a pathetic little voice reached the dark man´s ears, and he sighed at the unwanted sympathy that swept through him at that. Forcing himself to look at the file in front of him, he ignored it.
After a short while, Hutch lifted his head again, presenting his partner with his best sick-puppy-look he only used in absolute emergencies.
"I wanna go camping," he repeated.
"I´m NOT listening."
"I need to go camping this week."
"I don´t hear nothin´."
"Starskyyyy."
The curly head finally snapped up. "What d´you want from me?!" the detective half whined, half yelled.
Hutch smiled like a little boy.
"No!" Starsky shook his head desperately. "No, no, no, no, no! I´m going to Miami and that´s that! Why don´t you go camping by yourself? Why do you always have to drag me there with you?"
"It´s dangerous to go camping alone," Hutch said as if Starsky had just asked the dumbest of questions.
"Ahaaaaaa! See?! DANGEROUS. You said it yourself. It´s dangerous to go camping!"
"Alone," Hutch added unimpressed.
Starsky winked. "It´s dangerous no matter what. Whenever we go camping something happens. And usually not to you, I might add. It´s always me who gets bitten or stung or who catches a cold or has to sleep on the anthill. And at least at half of our camping trips we ran into trouble, because you alwayspick the ONE forest where there´s a nest of serial killers on the loose or somethin´. But not this time. Uh uh. I´m not going to give in this time."
Hutch looked at him, pursing his lower lip.
Starsky frowned for a brief second. He hadn´t known theblond´s eyes could get THAT wide, but he pulled himself together quickly and forced a stern look into his deep blue eyes.
"No."
Hutch´s lip started quivering.
Starsky rolled his eyes. 'And he always tells everyone I´m the child of this duo...Jeez!'
"NO! How `bout a compromise?" he suggested.
Hutch frowned questioningly.
"You come with me to Miami and I allow you to pitch your tent in the room."
Not changing his tactics, Hutch swallowed the reply that came to his mind and turned to staring his partner to the ground again. He´d only recently discovered that though he´d tried that thelittle-boy-lost-look before--as said, on emergencies--but that its effect had improved drastically after his near-death experience with the plague...
"Stop that!" Starsky ordered desperately, hiding his face in his hands."I´m going to fly to Miami, and no God damn puppy look is gonna change that! I´m NOT going camping! I´m not. I will not give in!"
****
"I can´t BELIEVE I´m doing this."
At the devastated statement from his right, Hutch turned to present his driving partner with a wide, happy grin.
"And stop grinning like that, will ya? Or you can walk to Neverneverland."
Hutch maintained his position just for a few seconds longer, bathing in his victory, then looked at the road again. "We could´ve taken my car, you know."
"The last time we took your car it broke down on the way to the hospital and I almost died. I´m not taking any chances this time."
Hutch rolled his eyes. Now that he had what he´d wanted, he had to face what came along with the triumph...
"Starsk, people don´t die of squirrel bites. You were just panicking. `Sides, I´m here to look out for you, right?"
"You were there then too and all YOU did was laugh!"
"Buddy, you were bitten by a SQUIRREL!" Hutch defended himself, already giggling at the memory. "Because you tried to steel its food," he added, laughing now.
Shooting his partner a dirty look, Starsky growled. "ITS food, `course.That was my candy bar. Even the damn animals don´t like to eat what´s out here. You´re the only one who actually wants to be here. I bet if I´d offer any shitty little animal out here a ticket to Miami, I could get a ten years supply of nuts."
Hutch, still chuckling, patted Starsky´s shoulder sympathetically. "I really *giggle* appreciate your coming with me, you know."
"Bla, bla, bla..."
The blond smiled, somehow enjoying the familiar grumpiness next to him that belonged to camping trips. When he´d taken Starsky along with him for the first time, he´d been annoyed at his friend´s openly displayed displeasure and disapproval of nature.
But over the years it had somehow changed into a vacation tradition that Starsky would moan and whine and grumble throughout the whole drive and the first day, but eventually would enjoy their stay as much as Hutch, if not even more. Seeing how his friend could enjoy the beauty of nature or the sight of animals in their natural environment with a childlike wonder he himself had lost when reaching adulthood sometimes left Hutch a little jealous, though most of the time, he used the smaller man´s enthusiasm to find it inside himself too.
That was the real reason he didn´t want to go camping alone, but always together with his easily fascinated partner. It helped him to find the kid hidden somewhere in his own heart.
"Hey," Starsky´s voice brought him back to the here and now. "Blondie."
"Yeah?"
"Last stop before Bug Paradise."
Following the dark man´s outstretched finger, Hutch saw a small diner and a gas station next to it on the side of the road. Straight ahead the forest they were heading to was already announced on a big, colorful sign.
"You want to stop there?" he asked, frowning. "What for? We´re almost there."
"You are going to buy me a hamburger in there," Starsky said in a voice that made disagreeing impossible. "You owe me more, but I´ll come back to that when we´re home again."
"You´re so gracious," Hutch commented dryly.
"I know. Don´t thank me just now, though."
"I won´t. Don´t worry."
Decision made, Starsky pulled over at the parking place next to the diner. That was the first mistake he made on that trip.
****
The diner wasn´t very well visited, but since the actual camping season hadn´t really started yet, and even during that time only few people chose that particular forest, that wasn´t surprising.
The two detectives sat down at a table and ordered their meals. While waiting for them, they both occupied themselves with studying their surroundings--Hutch the outside, Starsky the inside.
While the blond stared longingly at the big trees that seemingly had no space between them, Starsky read the menu a dozen times, and wondered what the few people that sat hunched over their coffee and eggs did for a living. There´d been no trucks outside the diner, so they had to have some other jobs that brought them to places like this.
'Poor guys,' the curly haired detective thought, the sympathy evident on his face without him being aware of it.
"Hey, buddy, you okay?"
"Huh?" Starsky made, turning to glance questioningly at Hutch. "D´you say somethin´?"
"Yeah, you alright?" Hutch asked, all worry gone from his eyes, though, at the assuring sight of Starsky blinking as if waking from a dream.
"Am I alright? I´m a mile and a half from Fort Ant! What kind of a question is that? D´you WANT to bug me with this or what?!"
A contented grin crossed Hutch´s lips. "Thought so."
Grumbling a little more, Starsky looked over his shoulder at the elderly waitress who now brought them their food. His mood improved a little at that.
Hutch didn´t eat anything, only slurped his coffee, one of his long outstretched legs shaking a little at his eagerness to get going again.
Starsky rolled his eyes. "You know, you can start walking any time you want, blintz. I´ll collect you when I´m done here."
Hutch made a 'very funny'-face and snatched a chip from his partner´s plate.
Only so he´d be done sooner, Starsky assumed, amused despite himself.
"For someone who normally downs half a cow with one gulp, you´re pretty slow today," the blond mumbled, reaching for another chip, only to have his hand swatted away.
"You noticed, huh?" Starsky teased.
Before Hutch could come up with an appropriate reply, a tall young man suddenly appeared next to their table, looking at them with wide, brown eyes. He was no more than a kid actually, barely twenty, his boyish features making him look even younger. He wore a flannel shirt that stretched over his muscular chest, and all in all gave the impression of a very young woodcutter.
The detectives raised their brows at him questioningly.
"Hi," the kid said with a shy wave of his right hand. The gesture looked almost ridiculous, not fitting for a bulky guy like him.
Before either Starsky or Hutch could answer, the kid asked, "That car out there yours? The one that looks like a Coke?"
Hutch´s head snapped sharply forward again, his eyes were not twinkling, more overflowing with mischief and amusement, focused on his partner.
Starsky´s face fell slightly. The cloud that had covered his blue eyes ever since he´d been talked into camping again, darkened even more.
"That, my young friend," he started in a voice so quiet Hutch´s suppressed giggles could be heard over it, "is a 1976 Ford Torino, and it is candy apple red with a snow white stripe on it that has absolutely NO resemblance to any soft drink´s outfit whatsoever."
The kid blinked in confusion, then looked at the blond for help.
Hutch smiled friendly. "Yep," he said, "the Coke´s his."
At the dirty glare he received for his helpfulness, he grinned at the young man, ignoring his partner.
"Oh," the guy smiled. "That´s a great car. I like it."
"Oh yeah? Maybe you shouldn´t insult it th-"
"You do?" Hutch cut his friend´s mumbles off. "Funny. You look rather smart."
The kid blinked again, then grinned. "Yeah, I´m smart."
A short pause followed, the detectives exchanged a quick glance. Suddenly, Starsky´s eating reached its normal speed again, while Hutch smiled at the kid who obviously had no intention of moving anytime soon.
"Uh, are you from here...uhm...?" Hutch asked, raising his brows.
"Yeah," the kid answered, either not understanding the unasked question or not wanting to answer it.
"And what d´you do...kid?" Hutch asked, deciding that he didn´t want to know the guy´s name, anyway. A glance out of the corner of his eye told him they were halfway out of there.
"I really like your car," the kid told Starsky instead of a reply.
"Mfanks," the detective said, chewing the last bite of his hamburger.
"Can I...Could I take a closer look at it?" the nameless young man asked with an enthusiastic childlike sparkle in his eyes that made Hutch smile unconsciously. "It´s just...You know, there ain´t many people coming here and all, and, honest, sir, your car´s the coolest thing I´ve ever seen."
"Oh. Is that so?" Starsky beamed, all irritation wiped off his face and being replaced by a full-hearted Starsky Special Grin.
The kid nodded fiercely.
"Well..."
Hutch rolled his eyes, mumbling the words that followed beneath the hand he placed his chin on.
"You know, Hutch, this fine young man seems to have taste. If not potential."
The blond nodded in mock agreement, but remained silent.
"It´s a good thing when kids are interested in anything these days," the smaller man continued in a somewhat poor oldtimer-voice.
"Sure is," Hutch muttered.
"Well, come on, kid, I´ll give you the grand tour, while my buddy here pays our bill. Right, Hutch?"
"Uhm..." Hutch started, but Starsky had already shoved the much taller young man outside the diner. Looking after the pair eagerly approaching the Torino, the blond sighed. "Right."
He then stood and made the short way over to the bar to pay for Starsky´s lunch and his coffee, when suddenly a familiar sound reached his ears.
A sound he hadn´t quite expected to hear.
"What the...?!"
But when he whirled around on his heels, all he could see through the large window was the dust wave the Torino had sent infiltrating the air when shooting onto the street with full speed.
A frown crawled over Hutch´s forehead as he still stood where he´d turned around, gaping. The Torino, the kid and his partner where nowhere in sight. The dust slowly settled on a Starsky-less ground.
"Uhm...D-did anyone just see th..." the dumbfounded detective started to ask, addressing the handful of other guests, but hushed when he noticed his words met by obviously deaf ears.
"Hello? Folks?"
"What d´you want, mister?" the elderly waitress asked from behind the bar, annoyed.
Hutch turned to meet her gaze, agitation quickly pushing away the initial shock. "Did you see what happened outside?"
"Outside where?"
Hutch stared at her blankly. "Outside there!" he finally replied in a half-yell, pointing a long finger at the window behind him. "My friend just walked out there with one of your customers and they drove off. You stood here all the time, so-did you see what happened?"
She frowned at him disapprovingly. "Well, seems to me like you know what happened. What´re you wasting my time for? Are you leaving now? That´s five thir-"
"I can´t leave, I got no car!"
"That´s your problem, Blondie, not mine. Fife thir-"
"Lady, are you pulling my leg or something, cause it´s not funny." He glanced around the room almost frantically, none of the men had moved an inch. They didn´t even chew or drank. They just sat there.
"Are those guys stuffed?!" he asked in frustration, and quickly continued before she could respond. "D´you know the guy who talked to us over there? Tall kid, brown hair, wore a-"
"Oh," she muttered and nodded slowly as if he´d just now switched to a language she spoke. "Now I get it. Tiny Tim." She laughed, shaking her head. "You talked to Tiny Tim, didn´t you? You´re one of the two guys with that car."
Hutch stared at her, wondering if they had an integration program out there for the mentally bewildered. "Yes," he finally said very slowly. "Yes, that´s right, I´m one of the two guys with the car that´s not out there anymore. Neither is the other guy of the two with the car. So, please, would you tell me what the fu...what´s going on here?" he concluded with a sweet smile.
"You talked to Tiny Tim," she answered matter-of-factly and shrugged. "You shoulda known better. Five thir-"
"We shoulda known WHAT? Who is Tiny Tim?"
"You talked to him."
For about a split second Hutch thought about drawing his gun, but settled for a deep, calming breath and a friendly smile. "As you may have noticed, Miss, I´m not from here. So plea-"
"You´re not?" she frowned, then arched her lips to a light smile. "See, I thought I´d never seen you two before. Where you from?"
"Bay City. Listen, lady, please, I need help here. Who is this guy? He comes here often? D´you have any idea why he might...steel a car?"
'Or a cop?'
"Oh, no," she winked, laughing amusedly. "Tiny Tim doesn´t steel. He borrows cars. He likes them."
"Borrows," Hutch repeated tonelessly.
"Yes. He´s crazy about cars, but see, he ain´t got no driver´s license. They wouldn´t let him have one because he´s...you know."
Hutch nodded in slow motion. "A-and what does he do with the cars?"
She shrugged again. "Drives around for a few hours. Nothing bad. He´s a good kid. Lives in the village here. We all do. We all like Tiny Tim. He´s a good worker. You´re not gonna call the cops now or somethin´, are you?" she asked, suddenly worried. "He really means no harm, honest. Just wants to drive. He told me about your car, but I thought what with it being Friday today, he wouldn´t do it. Well, guess I was wrong."
Deciding to let the Friday-comment go by unquestioned, Hutch sighed, pinching the back of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "You sure he´ll come back?"
"Oh yeah. Don´t worry, honey. He´s a good driver."
"Uh huh. And what about my friend?"
She frowned. "What d´you mean?"
"Since he´s not outside I guess my friend is with Tiny Tim," Hutch replied, his momentary relief vanishing fast when he saw the frown on her face deepen.
"Oh."
"What d´you mean 'oh'?" the blond asked, placing his hands on the bar to lean in closer. "H-he won´t...do anything to Starsky, right? Right? You said he was harmless."
"He is," she hurried to assure him. "He is. Most of the time."
"MOST OF THE TIME?!"
"I-I mean he...Gee, he never TOOK someone with him, you know. He just borrows cars. Most people don´t even notice. They stay here long enough or they understand when I explain. He doesn´t do it that often, just...every time strangers stop by."
At Hutch´s widening eyes, she added, "Maybe your friend agreed to accompany Tiny Tim. He likes company. Maybe he ask-"
"Maybe he freaked out! Maybe you should have told us that the kid´s a goddamn looney toon!"
"Hey, don´t blame me, honey. How was I to know your frie-"
"Partner," Hutch interrupted her, fumbling at the pocket of his jacket to produce his badge. "Partner. We´re cops. See? Your Tiny Tim just 'borrowed' a police car and probably kidnapped a police officer."
"Kidna...Tiny Tim´d never KIDNAP anyone! Your partner must have scared him or something!" she yelled angrily. "Why can´t you guys just leave the poor kid alone?"
"Why can´t w...HE STOLE OUR CAR! And God knows what he did to Stars...H-hey, he...he wouldn´t hurt Starsky, when noticing he´s a cop, would he?"
There was a short pause Hutch didn´t like.
"Would he?"
"N-no, probably not," she replied, blinking up at the blond. "He never took anyone with him before. And surely never a cop." Another pause occurred. "I don´t know what he´d do if he finds out. Maybe he´d get scared."
Hutch felt all color draining from his face. He swallowed dryly. "And when he´s scared?"
Her brows arched in sympathy. "Well, he IS kinda strong and he doesn´t really know that. I mean..."
Looking away from his panicked look, she added halfheartedly, "But as long as your partner doesn´t provoke him, I´m sure he´s no danger to him at all."
"Oh `triffic," Hutch mumbled, his head falling into his hands on the bar.
****
Starsky shook his head to clear it when he felt more alert and up to accomplishing that task without passing out again.
It was then he saw the road out of the front window, racing by with incredible speed, and the shocked, scared _expression on the young features next to him.
He had no clear memory of how he´d ended up on the passenger seat with a lump on his head, but was determined to find out.
"What the hell´s going on here?!" he demanded, shifting his body to a more upright position. He contemplated about trying to gain control over the wheel, but at that speed it would have been a verystupid move.
"You´re a cop," the kid said, glancing at him.
"Right," Starsky answered, irritated. "A pissed cop. And... Will you keep your eyes on the road!"
"Oh." With quick reflexes, the kid steered the car back to the street before it would have rammed into a tree at the side of the road.
"Jeez," Starsky breathed.
"Sorry," came a mumbled apology from the young man.
"For what, nearly killing us both or kidnapping me?"
The kid actually seemed to think about that, then looked at the detective again. "You´re a cop," he said. "Why´re you a cop? Damn it!"
"Uhm..." Starsky began confused, but the young man wasn´t done yet. With one hand he grabbed the front of the smaller man´s shirt and held him in a death grip.
"Your car doesn´t look like a police car! How should I´ve known you're a cop?!"
"Y-ya could have *cough* asked," Starsky choked out, grasping wearily at the strong, large hands holding him. "Hey...kid...d´you mind...?"
The kid grumbled, but finally let go of Starsky, pushing him roughly back into the seat.
"Damn," he muttered again, hitting the wheel with one hand. "Now you´ll arrest me like you did with my dad, right? Right?!"
"Listen, kid, I don´t know who your father is. You know, actually, I´m not really a cop here," he explained like he would to a child. "I can´t arrest anyone in this county. Well, not as a cop, that is. See, nothing will happen. So why don´t you just turn around and drive back? You don´t really want-"
"I can´t go back!" the kid yelled so loudly the detective visibly shrank away from him. "They always told me not to get in trouble with the cops. Because of what happened to my dad. A-and I never..." Frustrated, he reached out for Starsky again, but he flinched away successfully.
"Your car doesn´t look like a police car! It´s all your fault!!!"
Starsky could tell the young man was about to lose it. There were tears glittering in the big, brown eyes, and he could barely contain his rage about the unfairness of what was happening to him any longer.
"Hey," the detective said in the most calming tone he could muster, "listen to me. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. As long as you stop the car right now, turn around and drive back to the diner."
The young man shook his head fiercely.
"No one will arrest you, I swear. It´s all gonna okay. Just turn around and-"
"Shut up!"
Starsky flinched back again. The whole situation was starting to frighten him. It was obvious the kid hadn´t meant any harm when Starsky had shown him the Torino´s interior, but somehow he must have noticed that the curly haired man was a cop.
That was probably when he´d freaked out and knocked him out. He´d probably been just too scared, too confused to shove the detective out of the car then.
'Yeah, or maybe he REALLY dislikes cops...' Starsky thought dreadfully, and gulped, his eyes wandering up to the furious face carefully, as if even a fast look could enrage his captor further.
"Kid, hey, I´m n-"
"Stop calling me kid! I ain´t no kid anymore! I know what´s going on! You just want to sweet talk me back and then-"
"No! I want nothing of the kind. I want..." 'Out of here. Alive.' "Ahm, what´s your name?"
"Tim."
"Tim. Turn the car around."
Tim looked over at the detective who forced a wide, encouraging smile on his face, raising his brows.
Normally, Starsky´s smile was irresistible. Honest. Open. Trustworthy.
But Tim was beyond believing with fear. So he grabbed Starsky´s shirt again, before the smaller man could back away.
"I´m not falling for this! I may be stupid, but I ain´t THAT stupid."
"Didn´t say you wer-"
The rest of the choked words were interrupted by a sharp shove. The curly head hit the passenger door with a sickening thud, and the detective went limp in Tim´s grip.
Brown eyes widened under arched brows. "Uh...Cop? H-hey," he shook the still form roughly, but got no response. "Hey, wake up. I-I didn´t mean it. Cop? Sir? Officer?"
Starsky didn´t wake up.
Tim gulped and let go off him. The boneless body fell slack back in the seat, Starsky´s head lolling to one side to rest against the door. A think line of blood slowly made its way down from somewhere in the thick hair down his cheek.
"Uh uh," Tim muttered, and without a second thought pulled over to a small road leading into the dark forest.
****
It had started to rain hours ago.
Thick, heavy drops crashed against the window glass like insects.
Hutch checked his watch for the hundredth time, seeing he´d managed to sit still for two minutes, then turned around on the bar stool to look at Wendy, the elderly waitress.
"Wendy, please. It´s been three hours now," he pleaded.
She glanced at him from where she dried a glass, but quickly tore her eyes away from the _expression on his face.
After having tried everything from ranting to yelling to threatening to begging, the blond had finally settled for the same tactics that had gotten him and his partner into this mess--staring Wendy into the ground with the The Look.
Since he had no car, and no authority to just confiscate one, he was forced to remain where he was unless he got help from the other customers.
Which he didn´t. Though some of them had finally moved on several occasions, not one of them had listened to his pleas for help. The only time he´d been met by actual awareness of his presence was when he´d been disarmed by one of the woodcutters after the other few had diplomatically exclaimed they´d beat him to a pulp, if he wouldn´t hand over his gun.
Being the understanding man he was, Hutch had obeyed instantly.
Ever since then, he sat on the bar chair, trying to get Wendy to let him use the phone. But she wouldn´t allow him to call the theft in. Instead she kept on assuring him Tiny Tim would return soon, together with a completely unharmed Starsky. The whole thing, she said, would be something to laugh about when they both returned to the city. Right?
Besides, to make it up to him, the coffee was on the house.
When she´d announced that with a warm, gracious smile, Hutch had truly been grateful for having been disarmed before--he might have done something very regrettable...
****
"Wendy--you don´t really think he´ll come back, do you? It´s been three and a half hours. Please, let me call this in."
Even though Wendy didn´t look up at the blond, she could feel his worried blue eyes on her as if he was holding her.
"He´ll come," she muttered and flinched, when he suddenly yelled at her, having reached the end of his patience.
"When?!"
"He´s..." She sighed, and finally met his eyes. "Tiny Tim is scared of cops."
"What does that mean?"
"He´s a good boy," she said desperately. "Sure, he gets into trouble at times. He´ll always be a teen. He´s-"
"What d´you mean 'he´s scared of cops'?! Did he have trouble with the police? He´s into somethin´? What?!"
Her gaze dropped. "His father was. Into something, I mean. He was a trapper. Out there," she pointed at the nearby forest. "And one day a hiker got caught in one of the traps. It was, I don´t know, september. October maybe."
"He got caught?" Hutch asked quietly. "So what--he died?"
Wendy nodded. "Daniel, Tim´s father, was sentenced for homicide."
She peeked up at the detective again, her words rushing when she saw his eyes widen in terror. "B-but Tim´s a good kid, honest, he´s just-"
"You knew that all along, and you didn´t tell me?! I don´t believe you! Give me the phone, Wendy. Now!"
"You don´t understand-"
"Give. Me. The. Phone," Hutch said, stressing each word, as he slowly rose to his feet, as if he´d reach out and grab the woman every second.
A heavy hand on his shoulder suddenly held him in place.
"Sit down, officer," one of the woodcutter said in a toneless voice and pushed the smaller man back onto the stool for emphasis.
Hutch stretched his neck to look up into the man´s face. "Hey-"
"No one threatens Wendy," the man said.
"I didn´t threa-"
A rough grip on the front of his shirt silenced the blond painfully.
"And no one arrests Tiny Tim."
"I-I d-don..." Hutch tried to explain, but the words wouldn´t come out. He choked at the too strong hold.
"Will," Wendy said, brushing her small hand against the woodcutter´s large paw on Hutch´s throat. "Let him go."
"So that he can go and arrest our Tiny Tim?"
"I-I won´t..." Hutch croaked.
"He´ll sit tight until Tim comes back with his partner, right, Blondie?" Wendy asked sweetly, all guilt wiped off her face.
Hutch shot her an angry look, but nodded as much as he could against the man´s hand.
"Okay," the woodcutter said and let go of the blond, who, despite himself, slid from the stool to the ground, panting and rubbing his sore throat.
"And no more of this arrest-talk, you hear me? It makes us lose our appetite, right boys?"
A few mumbles were the answer, and the woodcutter nodded contentedly, then strolled over to his place and sat down to once more freeze to stone.
Hutch looked after him with unbelieving eyes. He sincerely hoped Tiny Tim had not been raised and educated by those guys.
'Starsk´s gonna kill me,' he thought and sighed. 'Why us? Why always us?!'
****
He was cold. That was the very first thing his mind informed him about.
Cold, wet, and his head hurt like hell.
Besides, he found it extremely hard to open his eyes against something heavy falling down on his face in a steady rhythm.
It was only when he slowly rolled onto his side with an agonized groan, that he became aware of rain pouring down on him.
Thick, heavy drops that felt like small blows.
Hiding his face in the crook of his arm, he shook his head ever so slightly to clear it, but found that to be the dumbest thing he could have done.
Nausea hit him like a punch to his middle, and his lunch--the fateful lunch that had started it all--decided to make a reappearance, before he even had the chance to scramble to his knees.
"Oh, uhm, sorry," he muttered wearily when the heaves finally stopped and he saw he´d been sick over an anthill.
As if attacking, a few ants crawled over to him and boarded his nose. Quickly rising from the mud, he wiped the insects away and came to a sitting position, much too fast for his damaged feeling of balance.
Blackness edged its forward inside his vision, and he squeezed his eyes shut, moaning, not really registering he was keeling over his side until he landed in a large puddle with a splash.
Coughing out water, he sat up again, but this time steadied himself with his fingers clawed into the muddy ground.
"Why do I always have to sleep on the anthill?" he sighed in a whisper and coughed a little more brown water out, fighting against reappearing nausea.
A sudden sharp pain in his head, obviously from the coughing, brought his hand up to his temple, and he rolled his eyes when he found the side of his head sticky with half-dried blood crusted on his hair and cheek.
"Think of the peacefulness of the forest, Starsky," he imitated his partner´s voice. "Gna, gna, gna. The serenity of the lake, Starsky. Bla, bla. No turkeys with guns, Starsky, gna, gna. Just you and the sun, Starsky. So help me, Hutch, if I ever get outta here, I´m gonna..."
His voice trickled off when his gaze suddenly focused on the puddle he sat in. Something peeked out at one edge. Something he knew pretty well, but that was not, absolutely not, meant to be seen like that.
"What the..."
His foot. His left bare foot. As if for assurance, he wriggled his toes slightly, then frantically lifted his right foot to check on it too.
The particularly dumb action left him falling on his back in the puddle again, and he hit the water in frustration.
"That lousy little skunk stole my SHOES!!!" he told the ants and now raised both legs in the air to stare at his muddy, wet feet. "I don´t believe this!"
The pain in his head pushed aside by his fury, he now noticed he didn´t have his jacket on anymore, either.
He had no jacket, no shoes and was soaked through.
"I´m gonna kill that kid. Right after I killed Hutch."
****
It hadn´t taken Starsky long to realize that his initial plan of finding his way out of the forest--following his nose--wasn´tgoing to get him anywhere except maybe even deeper into the labyrinth of trees.
Yet, he had no way of telling where he was, how far away from the road.
The rain still fell heavily, when he finally slumped against a branch, exhausted, and slid down until he sat on the ground, his head leaned back against the crusty branch.
He was soaked and cold, he shivered uncontrollably and his feet were almost numb, the only feeling radiatingfrom them coming from the many small cuts and scratches his way through the woods had inflicted on them.
Softly singing "It never rains in southern California" under his breath, he stared up at what he could see of the quickly darkening sky through the thick large blanket of leaves way up over his head.
Night was falling soon, and he had spent enough time with Hutch to know that the dangers a wild forest bore in the daytime was nothing compared to what spread at night.
If not a way back to the road, he had to find shelter, and fast.
Fear gnawing inside his aching head, he pushed himself up to his feet, but only made it the half way, before collapsing again. The stabbing in his head had reached an unbearable level, and he cradled his head in his hands for a few moments, willing his vision to clear.
When he looked up again, he sighed deeply and settled against the tree, gently grabbing his left foot to give it a gingerly inspection.
"Beauty of nature, gna, gna, gna," he muttered sarcastically while he wiped careful fingers over the deep, crusted cuts on his sole. "Very beautiful."
Since there was nothing he could do about his feet, he fell back against his tree in frustration.
"Oookay," he said loudly to himself, "what would Nature Boy do if he was stuck in the enchanted Water Woods with no shoes? Probably take mine," he shrugged dryly and wiped a hand over his face. It was a useless gesture, his skin was so wet he didn´t seem to recall what it felt like to be dry.
Tired, he rested his eyes for a moment that grew longer, until he forced himself to fight the exhaustion that already started to betray his senses, making him believe he wasn´t so cold anymore, but actually warm and comfy sitting there in the mud.
Moaning at the pain in his head as he stood up, he steadied himself against the tree with both hands for a second, then slowly stumbled on, looking for a safe place for the night.
His legs felt wobbly, and he knew he wouldn´t be able to remain on his feet much longer. The moon had already risen, and the high leaves twinkled at the edges in the dim light breaking through beginning darkness.
Starsky stopped briefly to look up at the nature show, the hairs on his neck rising despite himself.
He could almost hear his partner´s enthusiastic voice in his ears. "Look at this, Starsk? Isn´t that beautiful?!"
'Try scary," Starsky thought and forced himself to walk on, avoiding to look up at the moon again. He remembered a film he´d once seen, where a man had been lost in a forest, much like this one, and then bitten by a werewolf.
He quickened his steps to a half run and only stopped when he heard a tiny cracking sound beneath his bare feet.
The second he would have had to step out of the trap´s center was wasted with a dread-filled frown.
"Uh UUUUHHHHHH!!!"
The world suddenly spun around for a second that felt like an eternity. He was thrown into the air by the net-trap´s snap, then fell back into the thick material of the net, bounced off it again and finally came to a rest in the still whipping net, so crouched his knees hit against his nose with painful force each time the net swung back to place.
Almost screaming in startled fear, he interlaced his scrambling fingers in the thick rope of the net, stretching his neck backwards to hold his head up and away from his forcefully drawn up legs.
Even before the swinging trap-net finally stopped swinging violently, he could feel the ropes biting into his back, scratching against the soaked material of his shirt.
His ears were ringing, his head felt like it would burst any moment, and now that his mind had cleared enough to present him with the realization that he´d stepped into a trap, his eyes widened in fury.
The exhaustion, cold, hunger, simply everything, fell into place at once.
"FUCK!!!" he yelled, struggling against the biting hold, but of course only resulted in getting swung around in the air again. He only stopped, though, when his stomach started protesting, and lay his head back, panting.
"I´m gonna kill him!" he exclaimed loudly, not really knowing nor caring whom he actually meant.
A small bird landed on the thick branch that held the trap and peeked down at him with curious eyes.
"What´re you staring at?!" Starsky yelled at the animal, but didn´t impress it much. It moved a little closer and bent its head down even more as if inspecting the helpless man.
"Hey! You take ONE shit at me, sport, and you´re gonna regret it! Better belie- Ah!"
A very sudden violent jerk interrupted his threat.
He looked around wildly and noticed the net had loweredimmensely. He was still a few feet above the ground, but not as high as before.
"Oh no," he moaned. "No, no, no."
Feebly grabbing the ropes harder as if that could prevent the whole thing from falling down, he squeezed his eyes shut as another jerk followed.
"What I´d ever doooo?" he whined and peeked up fearfully, seeing the bird still sitting in its place.
"Get off of there," he joked halfheartedly, and the bird obeyed, flying over to sit down on the ropes over his belly.
Starsky rolled his eyes. "Oh that´s great. Hello there."
The net jerked again, the branch gave an audible crack.
"Uh, hey, you better get off of me. I don´t want no bird mush on my shir-"
The bird seemingly jumped into the air and flapped its wings frantically the second the branch broke and Starsky fell with a startled cry down to the ground.
****
When the moon had risen to its full beauty, the rain stopped as if out of admiration or respect.
Drops of moisture glittered on the concrete outsideand twinkled on the glass of the window.
Hutch had drank more coffee than he´d had since high school exams, his hands trembled uncomfortably when he lifted them to wipe over his tired features.
They were still all together in the room, not one of the woodcutters had left at the end of the day.
The worried sick detective sarcastically wondered if maybe they all lived there, in the diner. Of course he assumed they stayed to assure Wendy´s safety, and then actually, he was beyond caring. It´d been almost six hours now that he´d last seen Tiny Tim, the Torino and, most important, Starsky, and by now there was only alien abduction left for him to imagine as a possible reason for Tim´s not coming back.
Everything else, from an accident to a precisely schemed murder had already taken place in his concern-induced fantasies.
He was just about to check his watch in an exaggerated gesture again--something he´d started to do a while ago because it drove Wendy crazy--when for the second time that day he heard an unexpected, yet familiar sound.
Squealing brakes outside the diner.
A quiet tension flowed the room, the few men turned their heads by inches to look at the door out of the corners of their eyes.
Wendy stopped drying a glass and stared ahead, when the sound of the door being opened reached Hutch´s ears.
Steps followed, then the soft brushing of jeans against leather.
"Wendy, I-I want a beer, please," Tiny Tim´s voice shattered the silence like a stone crashing a window, but the kid didn´t seem to notice.
His nervousness, the audible shock and disturbance in his voice wasn´t lost on Hutch, who had been the only one to not turn around to look at the young man entering, but had just searched Wendy´s face for assurance.
Tiny Tim had returned.
Alone.
"Sure, Tiny Tim," Wendy answered the kid´s request in a whisper so soft Hutch wondered if anyone except him had been able to hear it, anyway.
He glanced to his side where the woodcutter sat, trying to figure out their what was going through their heads.
Would they hinder him from even approaching the kid, thereby clearing his path out? Or maybe not even let him get to him?
But then he could clearly see that the fact that Tim hadn´t brought his cop passenger back with him as well as his obvious distress had the men worried.
Somehow they all loved the kid, as Hutch had found out, felt responsible for him, but even so he´d never really grow up, he wasn´t a real kid anymore, either, and they knew that.
They knew he could screw up. And now they feared he might have done just that. Big time.
When he saw a few gazes slowly wander over to him, Hutch made his decision and slowly stood up, not wanting to draw the kid´s attention to himself, and strolled over to the table at the window, where Tim sat and stared out of the window at the neatly parked Torino outside.
"Excuse me," the blond said in a friendly, yet clear voice when he´d reached the table and came to a halt in front of the the bench Tim sat on.
The kid frowned at the sound of his voice and turned his head. It took his eyes a split second to reach saucer-size.
"Uh-"
"I just wondered," Hutch continued, his head tilted to one side in sarcastic mock interest. "Is that car out there yours? You know, the one that looks like a Coke?"
Without another thought, Tim jumped on the table and ran over it to the door, his speed admirable, but no match for Hutch.
The detective merely had to whirl around to grab the back of Tim´s jacket and shove him into the still closed door.
"I-I brought it back, didn´t I?!" Tim exclaimed in clear fear.
If he hadn´t been on a month´s supply of caffeine and worried crazy, Hutch would had laughed out loud at that.
"Yeah, you did, but didn´t your forget something?!"
"Uh ... Like wha-"
"Like my PARTNER, you little skunk!" Hutch yelled and whirled Tim around so that he was facing him with his back against the door.
The other guests were watching in agreement. They felt protective over Tiny Tim, and for exactly that reason they completely understood the blond detective´s reaction.
"I-I didn´t hurt him, I swear," Tim said pleadingly. He was a little taller than Hutch, but somehow it appeared as if he was looking up at him. He also outweighed him, style="BACKGROUND-CO and in a fight,
Hutch probably would have been no match for him, but the fury burning in the older man´s eyes was enough for the kid to be scared.
Hutch eyed him closely, his eyes narrowed to slits. "If you´re lying," he finally said in an ice cold whisper, "you´re gonna be sorry. Got that?"
Tim nodded quickly.
"`Kay. Where is he?"
"In the forest."
Hutch closed his eyes briefly, obviously having to restrain himself from simply lashing out at the younger man. "What´s he doing in the forest, Tim? Hm?"
"I-I-I s-saw his badge wh-when he showed me the car, and I knew he was a cop, and-"
"And you didn´t leave it then?!" the tall, broad man whose strong hands Hutch´s throat had met earlier, barked from across the room. "Jeez, Tim! Whassamatter with you?!"
"I didn´t think, I-"
"Do you ever?" Wendy sighed.
"It was like I couldn´t get away an-" Tim started to explain why he´d freaked out, but Hutch interrupted him sharply.
"The only thing I want to know from you is where you left my partner!"
At his intense glare, Tim´s gaze dropped.
"I-I...He..." he stammered, until Hutch´s patience simply ended and he once more shoved him against the door.
"Where?!"
"Th-there´s a place in the forest where I used to hide fr-from my dad when I was a kid. There. I left him there."
Hutch frowned. "IN the forest? Not near the road?!"
Tim shrugged. "It´s twenty minutes walk or so."
"Okay. Just let me get this straight--you and my unharmed, uninjured, unHURT partner WALKED through the woods for twenty minutes and then you turned around and walked back to HIS car alone. And he did NOT follow you?!"
"Uhm...Yeah," Tim smiled wearily. He paled a little and even shrank back when Hutch clutched the front of his shirt, then turned to look at the small crowd
"Can I hit him? Please?"
"Okay, okay," Tim hurried to say, raising his hands. "I somehow sorta kinda knocked him...out."
Hutch gazed back at him. "Somehow sorta kinda knocked him out hard enough to leave blood on your shirt?"
Following the blond´s glance down to a few red spots on the white material, Tim nodded sadly.
"Yeah," he said with a wry grimace. "I guess."
"You gue..." Hutch started to yell, but pulled himself together, drawing in a deep breath, before turning Tim and opening the door to shove him outside. "Okay, kid, you and me will go collect my partner now. You´ll show me the way, and when we´ve found him, we´re gonna get you a cozy little cell where-"
"You can´t arrest me!" the kid exclaimed in a panic.
"Watch me."
Still busy dragging Tim along with him to the Torino, Hutch didn´t notice the crowd of woodcutters following them.
They gathered together a little distance to the car when the blond opened the passenger door to force Tim into it, but stopped in mid-motion at the sight that met him.
"Aw, you gotta be KIDDING!" he exclaimed, letting go off the struggling young man to pick up one of Starsky´s blue running shoes that lay there together with his jacket.
Tiny Tim shrank under the detective´s furious glance until his nickname apparently fit him.
"I didn´t...didn´t want him to come after me if he wo-woke up...I mean..."
"You left a man in the forest IN THE POURING RAIN with no jacket and no SHOES?! What´re you, NUTS?!"
Tim looked wildly from Hutch to his "family" who rolled their eyes at his stupidity.
"I didn´t think! I was in panic. I think I..."
"So help me, I´m gonna..." Hutch started, throwing the shoe back onto the seat, while he made a step towards the kid who was backing away fearfully, until one of the woodcutters, Hutch´s special friend, stepped between him and the detective.
"I think you better go find your partner now, officer. It´s gonna be a cold night."
The rage on Hutch´s face was quickly replaced by disbelief. "Wha-"
"Like I said, we don´t allow anyone to arrest Tiny Tim. He may be stupid, but he belongs to the family. Besides, he regrets what he´s done. Right, Tim?"
Tim nodded fiercely.
"Well, apologize to the officer."
"Sorry," Tim said with a smile.
"Sor..." Hutch felt like hyperventilating. "Sorry?! Sorry my ass! You stole a police car, kidnapped a police officer, knocked him out, left him in a dangerous situation, STOLE HIS SHOES, and now you expect it to be all forgiven and forgotten with a simple SORRY?! What is this, kindergarten?!"
Though the tall man hadn´t moved an inch, Hutch stepped forward for emphasis, unable to contain his rage any longer, so that he followed Tim in a half circle around the unimpressed woodcutter.
"I´m not only going to arrest you, but when I´ve found my partner, I´ll leave you two alone--in a soundproof interrogation room!"
"Officer," the woodcutter finally interrupted Hutch´s rambling and reached out to grab his arm, "we understand how you feel, and I assure you the little idiot will be punished. But not by you nor anyone but us. We don´t allow Tiny Tim to be arrested."
"Bu-"
"You can leave now and find your partner, or you can stay here with us."
Hutch stared at the man, unable to find the words.
"Promise you won´t come back for Tiny Tim, and we´ll let you go."
"Wha..." A desperate laugh escaped the blond´s lips. "Are you nuts?! I´m no-"
"Yes," the woodcutter said. "I guess we are. So--what shall it be, officer?"
Hutch swallowed dryly, his eyes locked with the older one´s.
"How do I get to this place of your youth, kid?" he finally asked in defeat, his gaze never leaving the woodcutter´s who nodded contentedly at his words.
"Tim," he barked, "tell the man where his partner is and then get the hell inside."
"Hey," Hutch called after him, when he turned towards the others again, "what about my gun?"
"What about it?"
"Uh...nothing," he winced, sighing in frustration. "Nothing."
A sudden tugging at his sleeve drew his attention back to Tiny Tim who stood next to him now. "Shall I draw you a map?"
Hutch stared at him. "Yes. Please."
TBC