Night and Day

Chapter Five: Time off... together

Author's Notes: Thank you again for everyone who reviewed, and for those of you who read and didn't review, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.

Black Crystall Draygon: As always, your review made me giggle. I'm glad you like it, and I'm sure my days of writing S&H fanfiction are far from over.

Oni3: Die?? Why would anyone die?! I'm far too protective of my own characters, much less someone else's!! Anyway, thank you so much for your reviews!

Freddie: Thanks! And you won't actually have to bug me too much. I love Starsky, and I love Hutch, and I absolutely adore writing fanfiction.

Blintz: Dude, you rock. I love ya! It makes me all giddy and happy when I know I reduce you to girly sighs and giggles.

And now, the final chapter of Night and Day. Enjoy, and don't panic, I'll be back with something else soon!


"Good job. After that assignment, I think you deserve a few days off."

Starsky stared at Dobey. "Aw, Cap, I thought you liked us."

The black man's face turned purple. "Starsky! Take care of your partner, and I don't wanna see either of you until Friday!"

"Oh, terrific," Starsky muttered. "Just in time to work the weekend."

"Starsky, I could make it Monday, of this week!"

He backed toward the door. "Friday it is, Cap. See ya."

"And don't slam the door!" Dobey yelled. It was too late, and Starsky had already kicked the door shut, making the walls shake.

He stopped by his desk to grab his keys, then headed out the door to the garage, jumping in the Torino. Hutch was still at the hospital, and had almost had to call security to get Starsky to leave. The brunette insisted on staying, until Hutch told him that if he didn't get back to the station and write the report, Dobey would have both their heads. He wanted to see Bunny, too. In the few days he and Hutch had been undercover, he'd grown fond of him, considered him a good friend.

Parking in a space near the door, Starsky whistled as he entered the hospital, headed to Hutch's room first. He was sitting on the side of the bed, trying in vain to tie his shoes. Since his arm was in a sling, and he'd been told he couldn't use it, he was barely dressed.

"Look at you," Starsky commented. "Can't leave you alone for five minutes before you fall apart on me."

Hutch sent him a warning look. "Well, partner, would you care to help an invalid?"

"An invalid, no. You, of course." He approached him, and began to laugh. Hutch's shirt was unbuttoned, his pants were unbuttoned, and he was trying to put his shoes on the wrong feet. "My God, Hutch. You look terrible."

"May I remind you that you are the one with two black eyes, thanks to that punch in the nose, a gash on his forehead, and a split lip?"

"Better than looking like Rosie was attempting to dress herself." Starsky knelt down, switched Hutch's shoes, then tied them. "Now, stand up so I can button you up."

Hutch slid off the bed, let Starsky button his shirt, and only blushed a light pink when he buttoned his pants. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Anytime, babe." Starsky's grin faded, and he pulled Hutch into a hug. "Stop getting hurt," he said. "I don't like it."

Hutch held his partner with his uninjured arm, smiled. "I don't particularly like it, myself."

"Ready to go? We need to go up to the third floor, see Bunny."

Hutch nodded, released his partner, but squeezed his hand. "Then we need to talk."

"All in good time, my friend."

The wounded Bunny was sitting in bed, propped up on pillows, picking at food when they walked in.

His face lit up when he saw them. "Ken! Dave! You guys look terrible."

"Hey, Bunny," Starsky greeted, walking to the bed. "You're lookin' a bit terrible, too. How ya feelin'?"

He shrugged, dropped his fork onto his plate. "Sore. The doctor says I can go home tomorrow."

"That's great!" Starsky told him.

"So you guys are cops, huh?"

Hutch stepped forward, sat on the edge of the bed not occupied by Starsky. "Yeah. We were put in undercover to find out who murdered George."

"And what about me?" Bunny asked. "Am I in trouble?"

"Your record's been wiped clean. You're not on the run anymore," Starsky assured him.

Bunny just nodded once, but his face looked relieved. "Problem is, I don't really have a home anymore, not since the warehouse was shut down."

Starsky looked down. He had felt bad about that since Clinton was arrested. How many others like Bunny were there that had no homes or jobs now?

"Well, Bunny," Hutch piped up. "You're welcome to use my apartment for a while, I'll probably won't be spending too much time there."

Bunny's brown eyes lit up. "Really? Where will you be?"

Hutch grinned. "At his place."

The man looked at the two, and smiled. "Ha! I knew it!"

"Well," Starsky turned blue eyes to Hutch. "It was your fault, ya know."

Bunny stared at him. "How?"

"If you hadn't shown up that day, Hutch never would have kissed me, and we'd never be where we are now."

To the detective's amazement, the bed-ridden man burst into tears. Starsky leaned in quickly, one hand on his back. "Bunny? What's wrong?"

"It's just so, so... beautiful!"

Hutch started laughing, he couldn't help it. Starsky looked at him helplessly, then back to Bunny. "We have you to thank for it, Bunny," he said quietly, kissing the man on the cheek.

"Oh Dave, you are just too cute," Bunny said with a sniff. "I think I'd have to pick you."

"Pick me for what?"

"Pick you to hit on if you two ever break up."

Hutch laughed even harder, and Starsky blushed. Leaning in, he whispered quietly in the man's ear, so low even Hutch couldn't hear it. Bunny burst into laughter, then looked at Hutch. "So, Hutch, since you've been shot, how are you planning on writing?"

The blond rolled his eyes and fixed Starsky with a death glare. He raised his left hand, shook his finger at him. "That's not fair," he said. "I don't have a choice, here."

"I never did," Starsky told him. "It's not like I wanted to be left-handed."

"I'm never gonna live this down, am I?"

Starsky laughed, "Nope," he said. He leaned over and patted Bunny on the back. "Well, pal, we're gonna get goin'. We're hungry, and we have most of the week off. We'll be back tomorrow morning."

"All right, thanks for everything. See you in the morning." Bunny paused, then said, "Have a good night," and waggled his eyebrows.

"Yeah, we will, Bunny," Starsky assured him, giving Hutch a good swat on the backside as they walked out of the room.

The two swung by Hutch's apartment so he could pick up some clothes and water his plants, then they went to Starsky's. Starsky made what he considered a meal fit for a king, and the two ate in relative silence. Hutch hadn't even argued when a heaping beef burrito was set down in front of him, though Starsky had enjoyed watching him try to eat it.

After the food was eaten and the dishes washed, the two threw themselves on the couch to relax for the first time in over week. Starsky turned on the television, and they settled down to watch a movie.

"How's your arm?" he asked.

Hutch looked down at the sling. "Feels okay. Better now that I'm here."

"Yeah, about that," Starsky began. "What exactly is this?"

His partner shrugged. Time to be truthful, he thought. "To be completely honest with you, Gordo, I've known what I was feeling for a long time. But I was happy to just be your best friend, your partner. Then this assignment came along..."

"And messed everything up," Starsky finished for him. "We were always close, Hutch. Anything was wrong, I called you. You are the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep."

"It was to the point where if I didn't see you at least once a day, or talk to you on the phone, I missed the hell out of you." Hutch was staring at the television, but now turned eyes to his partner. "Do you think this will work?"

"Who knows? But I sure as hell think we should try."

Hutch yawned, then groaned. "Pain medication is wearing off, and I'm exhausted."

"Then let's get some much deserved sleep," Starsky suggested. He stood, pulled Hutch to his feet.

They went into the bedroom, and Starsky helped Hutch change, then pulled on his own sweats. After brushing their teeth, they crawled beneath the covers on Starsky's bed, lying on their backs.

"Starsk?"

"Yeah?"

Hutch's left hand found his partner's right, squeezed. "I love you."

"Love you, too, babe. Good night."