"A really companionable and indispensable dog is an accident of nature. You can't get it by breeding for it, and you can't buy it with money. It just happens along."
-E B White
"…Ooh, you make my motor run, my motor run, got it comin' off o' the line, Sharona…"
Starsky shifted the Torino to park and turned off the ignition. He got out, cast a sad look to Hutch's old-dog of a vehicle and shook his head, then jogged up the steps of Venice Place. "A man and his car is suppose to be a beautiful thing," Starsky muttered as he made his way to his partner's apartment.
His camera bounced against his chest as he climbed the stairs. They were going to be staying in the Topanga State Park and Starsky had heard of the breath-taking views the mountain provided. If this trip was suppose to be relaxing, then Starsky would unleash a little artistic imagination and see exactly what kind of images he could capture.
"M-m-m-my Sharona…" Starsky came to a stop in front of Hutch's apartment door, purposely singing the song that Hutch found so irritating just loud enough to carry through the closed door. "Knock knock," he called, retrieving the spare key and letting himself into his partner's apartment.
Starsky stopped in his tracks, his feet frozen to the carpet's seam in the doorway. "Hutch?" he called into the still apartment. Something was not right, and Starsky's hand hovered over his gun.
There was no sound in the apartment and Starsky took a step forward, his blue eyes scanning the room for a sign of life. A feeling was burning in his gut, brought on by the unnatural quietness of the apartment. The camping supplies were in a neat pile by the door, encouraging Starsky that his partner had at least made it that far, and the dark-haired detective stepped further into the room. There was no way that Hutch would have simply 'forgotten' about their vacation, so the fact that the blonde was no where to be seen deeply unsettled Starsky.
"Hey Hutch," he called a little louder as he moved to the bedroom.
There was a grumbling so low that at first, Starsky thought it was thunder. He looked into the bedroom, hand on his gun, and relaxed when he found his partner sleeping peacefully on the bed but was overrun with a whole new fear as the shaggy brown dog curled it's lips at Starsky's intrusion.
"Hey, easy there boy," Starsky found himself murmuring. His hand had also appeared before him in an appeasing gesture as he attempted to calm the aggressive animal laying at Hutch's side.
A feeling of déjà vu crept over Starsky as the dog trained it's cold gaze on him. "Uh, Hutch," he called, pitching his voice to the unconscious form on the bed. "Now would be a really great time to wake up and call off your dog…"
Starsky must have sounded a little more fearful than he intended to, for Hutch jumped as if electrocuted and scrambled to right himself amongst the tangled sheets. "Starsk…" the voice was rough, still sleep-laden as he swallowed and blinked furiously. "What are you doing here?"
The dog, surprised by it's bedmate's quick action, moved to lay with it's front half draped over Hutch's lap. It's ears were pinned flat against the sides of it's head as it squinted up at the blond detective.
Starsky found himself pointing at the now-sane animal and his bare-chested partner. "That…animal was growling at me!"
Hutch relaxed, letting his shoulders sag as he rubbed his eyes. "Starsky you scared me half to death. Probably the dog too. Don't you know you're not suppose to sneak up on a sleeping dog?"
Starsky was still standing in the bedroom doorway and decided that it might be safer to stay here. "Let sleeping dog's lie, right? I know Hutch, and I wasn't trying to sneak up on anyone! I wasn't expecting the dog to be here at all, seeing how you told me you were getting rid of him last night." Then he remembered why he was here in the first place. "Do you know what time it is?"
Hutch glanced at the clock by the head of the bed. "Damn it," he cursed under he breath. He steadied the dog as he pulled himself out from under it, then began grabbing pieces of an outfit. "Will you feed him while I get a shower?"
Starsky looked uncertainly at the dog. It seemed harmless enough now. "Uh, I guess."
"Thanks buddy. Give me ten minutes."
With that, Starsky was left alone in his best friend's bedroom with a dog he didn't trust.
"Well, you heard him, let's go." Starsky turned but kept his eyes on the dog, waiting for it to make a move to follow.
It didn't.
"Come on, let's go," Starsky tried again, making his movements more exaggerated.
The dog remained where it was, perched at the foot of the bed, eyes soft and ears perked in interest. Then it whined.
"Aw come on," Starsky pleaded. "Don't cry. I'll get you some really good dog kibble, alright? How's that sound?"
The dog snorted and cocked it's head. It cast an uncertain glance to the closed bathroom door and the steam that seeped out from under it.
"Fine, stay there you mangy mutt," Starsky huffed and turned his back to the confused animal, intent on getting a breakfast of is own.
The muffled thump of four skinny legs hitting the floor sounded behind him and Starsky grinned. "That's more like it," he muttered, leading the dog to the kitchen.
He snatched the small, five pound bag of dog food from the counter and searched the cupboards for a bowl. They had stopped by an open-late convenience store last night, per Hutch's insistence that no, dogs can not eat pizza, and purchased the animal's food.
After pulling down three bowls, Starsky filled one bowl with the brown nuggets and set it on the floor, taking the other bowls to the small kitchen table. "Eat up, mutt," he said, encouraging the wary dog as he grabbed the milk from Hutch's refrigerator. "You're too damn skinny, you know. Winter's commin' and you got a lot of fillin' in to do between now and then."
Starsky grabbed 'his' box of Lucky Charms from it's hiding place behind Hutch's horse feed. He set down with his breakfast, pouring the cereal into one of the empty bowls and the milk into a glass. The dog approached it's bowl wearily, keeping an eye and ear turned towards the brunette as it sniffed the food.
"It's not poison, I swear," Starsky said in exasperation. As the dog began to eat, Starsky set about his task of separating the pink, yellow, orange, green, and blue dehydrated marshmallows from the plain frosted oat shapes. It was a painstaking operation, but the results were well worth the wait.
When the bowl in front of him was nothing more than pure sugar, Starsky added the milk and checked the dog's progress. To his surprise, it was sitting at his side, nose on the table and watery eyes the color of dead leaves studying his movements. The dog food was gone and the bowl licked clean.
"You are fast," he noted and the dog blinked. "Too bad Hutch can't keep you or we may have some serious pig-out contests."
"Did you find the dog food?" Hutch asked, breaking the gentle bond Starsky was beginning to feel.
"Uh, yeah, he wolfed it down. Didn't you feed him last night?" Starsky watched as the dog left his side and rejoined the blond.
"Of course I did Starsky," Hutch replied, giving his head a final rub with the towel. He tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair, and Starsky looked at it for a few moments, reminding himself that this was not his living space and Hutch could 'decorate' however he saw fit.
"Here, I got you breakfast too," Starsky said finally, giving the bowl full of 'boring' Lucky Charms a push towards the space opposite him. He paused as Hutch thanked him and sat down, then asked, "What are you gonna do with the dog? You're not taking it with us camping, are you?"
Although Hutch kept his head down, Starsky could see his partner's blue eyes light up. "We might have to bring him Starsk, he can't stay here."
Starsky took another bite of his marshmallow-soup and suggested, "You could take him to the pound, where he belongs."
"Come on, you know what happens to scrawny mutts like him. He wouldn't even have a chance of being adopted."
"I don't think that's true, Hutch, I used to date a girl that worked-"
"Starsky no. I don't want to send him to a strange place to live the rest of his life behind bars."
Starsky watched Hutch take another spoonful of the cereal, his eyes unfocused and the furrow between his brows deepening in thought. "Why?" Starsky asked softly.
"Why what." It wasn't a question because Hutch already knew the answer.
"Why is this bothering you so much?" Starsky asked, raising his voice. Across the table, the dog's ears perked up.
"I just feel sorry for him Starsk," Hutch replied, letting his free hand rest on the dog's head. "He's all alone, his only friend has died, nobody cares what happens to him. Don't we all feel a little like that sometimes?"
Starsky was quiet then, his gaze studying body language of his best friend, trying to figure out what had brought all this on. Hutch was born and raised in Duluth, Minnesota, fifteen hundred miles and a grotesquely different life style away. Perhaps the shaggy stray reminded Hutch of his own awkwardness when he had been uprooted from his easy-going country life and pitched into the hustle and bustle of California. Had his partner really been in that much emotional pain? Starsky may never know, because Hutch was private like that, but Starsky would do everything in his power to keep that kind of hurt from ever touching his friend again. Even if it meant putting up with a stinking, growling, hairy mess of a dog.
Hutch looked down into his bowl of cereal and suddenly became very still. "What is this?"
Starsky physically shook himself from his reverie and looked at the cereal. "It's cereal."
Hutch's head remained lowered but his gaze turned towards Starsky's bowl. His eyes closed. "Please tell me you didn't."
Starsky thought about how best to reply. He picked up his bowl of liquid tooth-decay and held it out. "Want some?"
There was a soft clink as the spoon hit the bowl and Hutch was out of his seat and dumping the cereal into the trash.
"You know, a little sugar won't hurt ya."
"Just hurry up Starsky, we were suppose to be on the road half an hour ago."
Starsky watched as Hutch moved around the apartment, checking for last-minute provisions and testing the soil of his potted plants for dampness. The dog stayed on step behind throughout all of Hutch's movements, though the blond never acknowledged the presence. It was almost as if the dog already felt it belonged here. As Starsky slurped down the last of his breakfast, Hutch came to a satisfied stop by the pile of camping gear.
"Done?" he asked skeptically as Starsky joined him.
"Hey, that was the last decent breakfast I'll get till Monday!" Starsky defended, grabbing one of the backpacks and half of the tent.
Hutch grabbed what was left and led Starsky into the hallway, maneuvering the awkward tent through the doorway. "Don't come crying to me when your arteries clog," he said, wincing as Starsky kicked the door shut behind them. The dog scrambled to get out of their way.
"My arteries are coated with Teflon."
The two men stumbled through the apartment building's door and stepped into the too-bright morning sunlight, wincing. Hutch made a noise that could have been a grunt or a chuckle. "Teflon," he echoed, shaking his head with amusement.
Once the Torino was successfully loaded down, the detectives took one more look around the street in front of Venice Place Apartments, silently bidding their farewells to the familiar sights and sounds and taking one last opportunity to try and remember any forgotten supplies. Apparently satisfied, Hutch whistled sharply to the dog, who was lifting his leg on a rose bush planted strategically in front of the electric meters.
The dog turned sharply and followed Hutch's cue to jump into the Torino's back seat, or rather, what was left of the back seat aside from the backpacks. Starsky glared at Hutch.
"It's bad enough when you throw trash back there, now I'll have to clean up dog slime too."
The two friends got in the car and the engine roared to life. "Slime just wipes right off of leather, Stark. Trust me."
Starsky huffed as he pushed the car into the flow of traffic. "I do trust you. It's the dog I don't trust."
"Come on, he's not that bad. I saw you talking to him this morning."
"Yeah, oddly enough, he may be the first Hutchison that doesn't mock me."
Hutch fell silent at that and Starsky regretted the sagacious remark. 'Great way to start the weekend,' Starsky grumbled in his head. "Hutch, I didn't mean that…"
"I know," came the quick, but earnest response. There was a pause, as if he might say something more, but Hutch said again, "I know."
The rest of the drive was in lighter spirits. Hutch's spirit seemed to raise with each mile that passed under the Torino's tires. It was a sight that warmed Starsky and made the canine nose in his ear a little less cold. They had each learned long ago that a little discomfort was well worth it if the end result benefited the other. Sacrifices were made. Life moved on.
Starsky wiped the dog snot out of his ear and eyed Hutch. They had grown closer than brothers during the time they had known each other. Neither of them had ever uttered the words before an audience, but the death of one partner would surely lead to the slow destruction of the other. They complimented each other, played off each other, lived through each other and neither Starsky nor Hutch would trade that for the world. Starsky knew what they had was special, running just as deep as any roots of marriage and stronger than the bond of blood.
'Opposites most definitely attract,' he supposed, sparing a final glance at the lean blonde glowing with carefully concealed excitement.
He guided the car around a turn, easing the heavy Torino onto a gravel road. Starsky tried not to think about the dust that was billowing up from the gravel's disturbance, clinging to his beautifully polished car. What was that about sacrifices?
"Great, we didn't loose it," Hutch announced as the campsite came into view.
"Yeah, great," Starsky replied with a roll of his eyes.
"Lighten up Starsk, it'll be great. No noise, no crime, no paperwork…"
Starsky parked the car. "No taco stands, no candy machines…"
Hutch laughed and got out of the car. "Quit your belly-achin' and help me pitch the tent."
Starsky snorted and looked at Hutch, watching as the innocent blond pulled the tent out of the car's back seat. The dog was investigating a bush a few feet away.
"Whatever you say Hutch, whatever you say."
Half an hour and one very frustrated Brooklyn-bred detective later, the canvas tent was standing.
"That blasted thing should come with a warning or instructions or something," Starsky complained, plopping himself down on one of many railroad ties that outlined their campsite.
Hutch stood back and placed his hands on his hips, breathing deeply. "It wasn't that hard, Starsk, didn't you ever play with Legos when you were a kid?"
"Yeah except I was always Godzilla and I wrecked the little Lego towns."
Hutch looked at his partner thoughtfully. "That's really sad Starsky."
Starsky grinned evilly but in his head, chewed on the thought that while Starsky spent his childhood running with other children, his Hutch had most likely spent his in his room, playing with his own toys in solitude. Starsky's heart turned heavy and hard so he stood to dispel the feeling. "Is this the part where we scavenge for firewood?"
"Yeah," Hutch replied quietly, his face upturned to the clear sky. "I think it's going to rain later."
Starsky looked up, searching the vast blue sky for the telltale hint that whispered to his friend. "How do you know?"
Hutch's head came down and his gaze settled on the dog as it lay on the ground, chewing a stick. "Just a feeling," he replied nonchalantly. He smiled at the dog and the animal pinned back it's ears, wagged it's tail, then sprang to it's feet and hurried to the blond detective, dropping the mutilated stick as his feet.
"How do you do that?" Starsky asked as they moved into the forest. He watched Hutch toss the stick in front of them, sending the dog bounding through the leaves and fallen timber.
"What?"
"Talk to him."
Hutch smiled to himself, as if he were flattered by the comment, and held his hand out when the dog came leaping back. "Practice, Starsk," he replied. "I didn't live on a farm, you know, but we had plenty of horses and a few dogs. Horses are a nobleman's animal," he added with a hint of distaste, implying that maybe the horses were just his parent's means of flaunting wealth. "Duluth might be a small town, but I usually didn't see very many people, when I was little."
Starsky straightened himself after grabbing a suitable piece of firewood. He kept quiet, smiling to himself when the dog once again crashed through the shrubbery in chase of it's stick. He had a feeling that Hutch's homebody childhood was not of his choosing.
"The animals become your friends," Hutch continued as they continued along the narrow dirt path. "It's more about them teaching you their language then you talking to them. They whisper, when the world is quiet enough. You only have to listen."
Starsky thought about it, not really understanding but trying to look thoughtful for Hutch's sake. Hutch was not one to share emotions easily. Perhaps it was the solitude of the woods and the closeness of their friendship that eased the memories down from his mind and through his voice.
"Starsky?"
"Yeah Hutch."
"Cheer up."
Starsky smiled and took a deep breath, remembering his task at hand. They each had a few pieces of brittle wood in their arms when a darkness caught his attention. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a dark opening in the side of a steep mountain.
"Looks like a cave," Hutch replied, and Starsky was a little disappointed at the lack of sarcasm that should have laced his friend's response.
"Well let's go," Starsky said, veering off the trail and stomping through the overgrowth of shrubbery.
"Starsky, we can't just go traipsing through there like eleven year-olds. It'll be dark in a while and besides, the clouds-"
"Traipsing?" Starsky echoed, spinning to look at Hutch incredulously. "That's malapropism Hutch. We do not traipse. We investigate."
"Mala-what?" Hutch repeated, as Starsky started towards the cave again. "Starsky, have you been reading the dictionary again?"
Starsky waved for Hutch to follow as he came to a stop at the cave's entrance. "Come on Hutch, don't make me investigate all by myself."
Starsky knew that Hutch would be staring at the dog now, wanting the animal to second the notion that yes, Starsky was a little kid in a grown man's body. Starsky waited, inching his way into the shadows of the stone cave until finally, Hutch began stomping through the vegetation. Starsky smiled.
"…don't know why I go along with you and your harebrained ideas…" Hutch mumbled, stopping at Starsky's side. The dog joined them.
Starsky grinned and rested an arm on Hutch's shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun." They stared into the cool darkness. "Trust me."
"Do you remember what happened last time I trusted you?" Hutch huffed. "I wound up with a black eye and you couldn't show your face in Huggy's for a month."
Starsky thought about that. "Well, don't count that time. Besides, that wasn't all my fault."
Hutch glared at him and Starsky felt a shiver. He blamed it on the shadows carried from the cave's draft. The dog whined.
"Well I'm going in."
Hutch sighed. "We don't even have any light, how are we going to see anything-"
Starsky pulled the little Mag-Lite from his back pocket and turned it on, piercing the darkness. Long shadows scattered onto the walls of the cave like cockroaches running from the light. He started in, stepping attentively over the loose soil floor. The cave wasn't that wide, maybe the size of his bedroom but burrowing deep into the side of the mountain. A chill crawled up the leg of his jeans and wriggled over his body, causing him to shudder and the light to quiver.
"You're not scared are you?" Hutch asked, and the sarcasm was back in his voice.
"No I'm not scared," Starsky denied, taking another, more deliberate step forward. The sunlight was not even so bold as to travel this far into the cave. Starsky searched the dirt floor for animal tracks, or more specifically, bear tracks.
"Come on, it's not like there's going to be a wanted criminal around the corner," Hutch goaded, taking the flashlight from Starsky and moving past the brunet into the cave.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Starsky murmured. Bad guys, he could deal with. Large animals with canine teeth and a taste for fresh meat, he could not. The dog trotted after Hutch, hitting Starsky on the leg with it's tail as it went past.
"How would you know," Starsky spoke louder, hesitantly moving fast to keep up with his determined partner. "I didn't think there were caves in Duluth. There's certainly not anything else interesting out there."
"Oh and I suppose as a boy, you spent most of your time wandering the complex caves of New York?"
Starsky walked past a pile of something dark and slick, then hurried to catch up with Hutch. "Do you think there's any animals in here?"
"Just you, Starsk."
"Well aren't you just full of 'em today."
"I try."
Starsky stepped delicately, his eyes glued to the ground for clues of an animal's presence. "Shouldn't we have those dorky-looking helmets on or something?" he asked, then yelped when he ran into Hutch. "What-" Hutch stood still, but not tense, so Starsky let his worry abate a little as he looked at what had his partner so transfixed.
The cave opened up before them, creating a massive stone room with a ceiling that must have arced in excess of 30 feet. Nature had been kind enough to bless the cave with a natural skylight that filtered in sunlight from the outside world. Ugly stalagmites and stalactites grew out of the stone, the knobby fingers contradicting where the other was pointing. The cave itself was made of jagged rock, suggesting that the cave had been created rock by rock instead of being carved hollow like a jack-o-lantern. The air was musty and thick. Starsky briefly wondered what happened to the last being that had breathed the stagnant atmosphere.
"Sure is an ugly cave, isn't it?"
Starsky's voice echoed through the subterrane and floated out the skylight. Hutch's shoulder's slumped.
"You always make the most of the moment, Starsky."
Starsky moved to stand underneath the hole in the cave's ceiling. "I try." The sun wasn't as bright as is had been when the left the campsite. Maybe Hutch was right about the rain.
"Hey- what are you doing?"
Starsky dropped his gaze and blinked the green tint from his eyes as he looked to Hutch. The dog had it's jaws clamped solidly on the loose fabric of Hutch's sleeve and was not-so-gently tugging the blond back in the direction they had come from. The beam from the flashlight ricocheted off the cave's broken walls.
"What's he doing?" Starsky asked as Hutch fought fruitlessly with the insistent mutt.
"How should I know?" Hutch snapped, yanking his sleeve out of the dog's grasp with an audible rip.
"Leave it to you to get the crazy one," Starsky teased. "Sure you don't wanna dump him off at the pound?" Starsky wandered over to the closest rock wall. Maybe he could find an Indian painting. At least then this outing would be exciting.
There was a novel sound in Hutch's voice when he replied, "I-I think we should go."
Starsky's blood ran cold. "What's wrong?"
Honest to God fear lit in Hutch's eyes as their gazes locked. The dog sat unmoving at Hutch's side, it's eyes cold and demonic. "I don't know, I just got this feeling that-"
Hutch never finished his sentence. The ground began to tremble as if the earth let loose a sneeze from it's very core. Rock fell from the ceiling and thudded to the ground with enough impact to cause their own tremors rippling across the ground. Dust billowed up from the floor, effectively choking Starsky and blotting out the sunlight. There was nowhere to take cover. Starsky pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and ducked, cringing as a large stalactite severed from the ceiling and crashed to the ground, breaking in half upon the sudden impact. 'Earthquake!' his mind screamed- or maybe it had been out loud- as he lost his footing and fell to the dirt. He could barley make out Hutch's form on the other side of the cave, sitting against the wall with his head on his knees in an effort to protect himself. All around them boulders fell, stirring up the dirt so that the air was so thick you could hold it in your hand. Cracking stone and a rumble deeper than any roll of thunder reached a climax in his ears. He wanted to get to his partner, his body ached to, but crossing the cave now would prove fatal.
The last thing Starsky remembered was a piercing cry ringing above the chaos of destruction, then his world imploded with choking blackness.