Hi All,

Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope to continue to entertain you with this story for a few more chapters.

Lightning Ch#7

Starsky led the dog to the steps to his second floor apartment. The dog stopped and looked up the steps. It sighed heavily and began to painfully climb the steps. Starsky was tempted to pick the dog up and carry it, but was worried about what the vet had said. It could turn on him. A big dog like that could do a lot of damage. Hell, that dog already had done a lot of damage. Hutch was in the hospital because of that damn dog.

The dog let out a little yelp as it moved up another step. Its head drooped and it panted a bit. Then it turned its large narrow head back towards him and gave him a sad look as if to apologize for making the sound.

Starsky broke eye contact "Just a few more steps, you can do it…" he trailed off and watched the dog stiffly move up another step "I don't know why I'm encouraging you. You're the one who's been causing all kinds of trouble lately. First my partner, then some folks down in the Kingston district and finally Rosie-" Starsky broke off as the expression on the dog's face changed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hutch wanted to know what the dog had done to his body. He wanted to ask Starsky what had happened in that alley. But first, he had to figure out how to communicate with Starsky. He looked back towards the steps and continued to slowly and painfully make his way up the rest of the steps and then limped towards Starsky's door.

Starsky stopped and dug for his keys, upon finding them, he opened his door and the dog limped into the room. When they were both inside, he shut the door. "Stay here, I gotta… why am I talkin' to a dog like it can understand me?" Starsky shook his head at his foolishness. He went to the kitchen and removed his supplies from the bag. He put several items away and left out the ones he thought he might need. A wave of exhaustion swept over him and yawning, he wiped a hand down his face.

Hutch watched as Starsky leaned on his hands the table, shoulders tense, with his head bowed. He looked as exhausted as Hutch felt. He followed the urge to go to the brunet's side and limped over to the table. "Hey buddy, tell me what's wrong… besides everything" He nudged at his friend.

"Stay away from me." Starsky whispered quietly "You've done enough damage in my life right now and if it weren't for my promising Rosie, you would be in dog heaven right now" He moved away from the dog.

For the life of him, Starsky couldn't figure out why he had made such a foolish promise to Rosie. The dog was dangerous. Why was he even taking such a chance on this dog? It had attacked him. Okay, its owner had sicced it on him. It had been doing what it had been told to. Hutch had been injured, but to be perfectly honest with himself, the lightning was the cause, though the dog had contributed. If the dog hadn't leapt for him, Hutch wouldn't have been forced to jump to intercept the dog. It was still a dangerous dog. Maybe Rosie couldn't see that, after all she was just a little girl with a vivid imagination, thinking that the dog was Hutch 'under covers' yep, a very vivid imagination.

He was being too soft. Of course he couldn't shoot the dog in front of her, no child needed to see that. First he made a foolish promise that he was honor bound to keep, then he took the dog to the vet, paid a large bill and now it was in his home. He had brought home a drug dealer's dog, what next? The drug dealers them selves? Yep, he was way too soft. Hutch would pick on him about this forever, if he found out about it.

A thought occurred to him and Starsky briefly glanced at the dog "You had better be house broken"

The dog chuffed at him and gave him a disgusted look as if to say 'I'm insulted'

Now he was acting like Rosie. Acting like the dog could understand him. Ridiculous. He stared at the ceiling for several long moments. He should probably lock the dog in the bathroom for the night so he could sleep without worrying about getting his throat torn out while he was sleeping.

What if he had to pee? He could just imagine accidentally stumbling over the dog as he headed to the can for an early morning whiz. It could be tragic and painful. Despite it being rather thin for its size, it was still a very big and powerful dog. I really need my head examined for this. I really do. What was I thinking?

Hutch could smell fear rolling off Starsky. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He was frightened too. He was in a dog's body and he didn't know how he had gotten there and he sure as hell didn't know how or IF, he would be able to get back into his body.

"I'm scared too, Starsk… I-I've never been more frightened and… and… you're scared of me. Please don't be… I can't take it… Both of us scared… me in a big, fierce looking dog and you with your Berretta… coupla big chickens, that's what we are Starsk"

Hutch padded slowly over to Starsky's side "I need you… I need you to t-touch me and tell me it'll be okay" He tried to lean against Starsky's leg, but Starsky moved away and walked around the table, keeping some distance and heavy furniture between them. Hutch understood, but it still hurt. He slowly sank to the floor and lay there. It was a far less threatening pose and he was just too tired and disheartened to go any further for the moment.

Starsky looked at the items on the table; there was medicine for the dog, notes and information from the vet, as well as a muzzle that the vet had loaned him. He stared at the muzzle for a long time. He should put it on the dog. That way he wouldn't have to worry about it biting him. His stomach rumbled and he realized that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

He looked at the dog. It lay on the floor, head on paws, eyes on him. He didn't really know about dogs. He had never had one, nor had anyone in his immediate family. Was it normal for a dog to look a human in the eyes like this dog kept doing to him? It didn't really matter in the long run, he wasn't keeping the damn thing long enough to find out. His stomach rumbled again. He went to the phone and dialed his favorite pizza place.

While he waited for the pizza to arrive, he read the vet's notes. The notes consisted of wound care; behaviors to watch for and some basic dog care instructions. He picked up the two dog bowls he had bought and washed them. While in the store he had debated on whether to buy them or not but he just could see feeding the dog out of his bowls and then using for himself again. He shuddered at the though. Yuck. It wouldn't matter how many times he might clean the bowl, they would never be clean enough. So he had wasted more money on the bowls. As he dried the bowls, he looked at the dog, which of course was looking at him. Creepy. It was just creepy the way that it kept staring at him.

"Well, what do you want? Dry dog food or canned? I'm not supposed to give you too much at first. You are to get many small meals over the course of several hours. The note from the vet says that you might get diarrhea and an upset stomach from a too rapid change in diet." He opened one can and dumped half of it in the bowl. He opened the dry food and put a handful of that into the bowl and mixed them together. He put the bowl next to the dog. "Here, eat. And quit starin' at me, creepy dog" He muttered as he shoved the bowl towards the dog's face with his foot.

"I'm not eating that" Hutch sat up slowly; he thought dog food smelled bad as a human. It smelled worse with his improved sense of smell. How could dogs eat that stuff? He had to think of a way to communicate with Starsky. He thought about using items from the trash, but there were two problems with that. The first being that his neat-freak friend would have a fit if he rummaged through the trash and the second being that he could smell the fresh plastic of the trash bag, meaning that Starsky had dumped his trash for the day. The receptacle was empty.

Hutch looked at the dog food. If Starsky hadn't mashed the dry and wet food together, he could have used the kibbles to spell words out. Wait! He maybe he could use Morse code. Barking was out, too noisy. He tried scratching it out with his paw. All that got him was squirted with water from a water pistol.

"Hey, that vet was right. Works pretty good. Doesn't hurt the dog but it gets the point across" Starsky smiled as he lowered his watery weapon. "Bad dog"

"If I ever get back in my body, I'll 'bad dog' you" Hutch shook the water from his pelt "Here, do some cleaning and leave me alone. I gotta think" Hutch moved away from the smelly dog food and lay down once more.

"Hey! Don't do that! Aw man, you got water all over the cupboard doors… what is that smell?" He moved into the kitchen area and sniffed again "Not the dog food… smells more like -sniff- garbage"

"Who's the dog now, Fido?" Hutch watched as Starsky followed the smell, right to him "Crap, it's me, isn't it?"

"Yuck dog, you smell like garbage, must be because I got you wet. I can't have you stinking up the place" Starsky stood a few feet from the dog. It was gonna need a bath. He looked over at the table. He would have to get the muzzle on the dog to bathe it. Terrific.

Just then his doorbell rang. Pizza! He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. Starsky paid the kid and moved to his couch and put the box on the coffee table. The dog wandered over and looked expectantly at him.

"No, this is people food, your food is over there" Starsky pointed "the vet said not to spoil you with human food and that when you got hungry enough, you would eat it"

"I would much rather eat at any one of your horrible little restaurants then eat dog food… I can't believe I just said that. Good thing you didn't hear that" Hutch looked longingly at the pizza. It smelled really good, even if it did have anchovies on half of it.

"Hey! Quit drooling on the carpet! Get outta here, eat your own food" Starsky waved his pizza-free hand at it "Get!"

"I don't drool" Hutch thought, well not unless a petite little blonde was 'on the menu' as it were. "Hey Starsk, don't you usually have a beer with your pizza… That's it!" Hutch limped into the kitchen and after a few tries, got the refrigerator door open. "Ahhh, beer!" Hutch grabbed a bottle and closed the door.

"Hey dog, whaddya don' in there?" Starsky craned his neck to see what the source of the noise was. He was shocked to see the dog with a bottle of beer in its mouth. "What the…" The dog limped over to the coffee table and turned its head and gently set the bottle on the table.

"I brought you a beer, the least that you could do is let me have a slice of pizza" Hutch thought smugly.

Starsky stared at the dog, than at the beer, than back at the dog "Ummm… Fido, you forgot the bottle opener" The dog rolled its eyes at him and limped back into the kitchen and with a stifled yip of pain, it stood on its hind legs and got the bottle opener off the kitchen counter. It limped back over to the couch and dropped the opener next to the bottle. Starsky just stared, open-mouthed at the dog, totally at a loss for words.

"Call me Fido again and I'm gonna pee on your couch. Now, how 'bout a slice of pizza?" Hutch looked at the pie. It smelled even better than he could ever remember.

"That's amazing! Who would have though that a miserable drug dealer like 'Machete' Mike could train a dog to do all that? Wow! Simply amazing!" Starsky shook his head. "I wonder if there is a way I could sell you to the circus or something… who would I call?" Starsky munched away, staring off across the room, plots and schemes dashing around his head. He might be able to use the dog to get a little side money… and chicks! He could 'wow' the ladies with a pooch that did tricks. He smiled; ladies just loved that sort of stuff.

If Hutch could have slapped himself on the forehead right now, he would have. Better yet, slapping his friend upside the head right now would be even more satisfying. He knew that look on Starsky's face. It was his 'I've got an idea for the ladies' look. Typical Starsky, if he wasn't thinking with his stomach, he was thinking with his-

"Here's some crust" Starsky flipped the bread at the dog. It hit the dog in the head and bounced off and landed on the floor. The dog gave him a very dirty look and exposed its right fang at him. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm not even suppose to give ya human food"

"Most of the food you eat isn't made for human consumption" Hutch looked at the crust and then back at the brunet "And I'm NOT picking that up. You threw it, you can pick it up" He shuffled away a few feet and lay down. "I'm not gonna 'fetch' anymore beer either. My fetching days are over" He was out of ideas. If he fetched more items, Starsk would just think that he was a well-trained dog. Not a human trapped in a dog's body that was trying to communicate with him. His head started to pound with pain. For just a few seconds there, he thought he was getting through to his friend. Failure hurt.

Starsky looked at the dog laying just a few feet away. If he didn't know better, he could swear that he had just hurt its feelings. He shook his head at his foolishness. Maybe the dog didn't like crust. Those were some neat tricks though. Smart dog. He drank the beer and munched his way halfway through the pizza. He had bought the large size and he had ordered it with so that one side had his favorites on it and the other side had Hutch's favorites. He swallowed hard. For just a few minutes he had managed to forget his friend was in the hospital. How could he forget that?

He called Huggy at the hospital and found that, as he had expected, there was no change in Hutch's condition. While he was on the phone, the dog wandered over to him. When he hung up, the dog put a paw on his knee. He lifted the paw gently off of his knee "No dog, I don't want to 'shake hands' right now." He got up, got the pizza and empty bottle and put them away. The pizza went into the fridge, bottle in the case, to be returned for a refund.

Tired, but not tired enough to sleep, he wiped the cupboards down and washed the bottle opener. It had dog slobber on it. The animal lay there, watching him putter about. When there was nothing else to clean, he picked up the muzzle and keeping it behind his back, he walked over to the dog. "Hey there… dog, I've got a cookie for you" He waved the milk bone slowly.

"What are you up too Starsk?" Every line on his friend's body told him that Starsky was about to do something that was making him very nervous. It was making Hutch nervous too, but he held still, he didn't want to scare his friend any more then he was already.

In a flash, Starsky slipped the muzzle on and secured it behind the dog's head. He backed away from the dog, unsure what its reaction would be. It did nothing. Nothing but stare at him with its huge brown eyes, eyes that seemed to say 'how could you?'

"Sorry dog, but you reek. I can't have that smell in my apartment, so you're gettin' a bath and I can't take the chance that you'll bite me" The dog slunk off to the bathroom, head down "I'm sorry, okay? I just… am apologizing to a dog. Guess I'm more tired than I thought" He followed the dog to the bathroom "Hey, how did you know where to… go…? You are one creepy dog"

The dog looked back at him for a moment and then it ambled in to the bathroom. When Starsky walked in, the dog was sitting in the tub, with its back turned to him. "Look I…" 'Am not going to apologize to a dog… again' Starsky finished the thought silently.

He gave the dog a bath. It didn't move, it didn't growl, it didn't even look at him. Well, it did look at him once when he got too close to the dog's 'equipment' That look clearly said 'touch those and I will rip your throat out' Starsky held his hands out and away from the dog "Got it. You can wash those yourself…" The dog rolled its eyes and looked away once more.

Starsky toweled the dog as dry as he could. He let the dog out of the room and it limped back to the couch and climbed up "Hey, no! Bad dog! Off the couch, you're still a little damp… I don't want the cushions to smell like wet dog" The dog slowly got off the couch and gave him another sad look. Starsky threw his hands up in exasperation.

Hutch was disheartened. It really sucked being a dog. What was even worse was now he was a dog with a muzzle on. He pawed at it. It was on tight. He wondered if Starsky was going to leave it on all night. He hoped not, but he had a feeling that it would be. He sighed heavily. It sounded like a long whine. He didn't care.

He put his head on his paws and closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he was aware of was a soft sniffle. He raised his head. Starsky was sitting on the couch with his face buried in his hands.

Hutch slowly stood up. His muscles ached even more now. 'Well, I should count myself lucky that I'm only sore and not dead' He gritted his teeth and limped over to Starsky. "What's wrong buddy?" Hutch could feel the sorrow rolling off the brunet in waves. He put his paw on his friend's knee "Care to tell me what's wrong?"

Starsky felt the paw on his leg and lifted his head slightly. The dog had such an expression of sadness in its eyes. He patted the dark head. Then he ran his fingers over the dog's ears. It felt nice. He put his hands on either side of its face and looked into the dark eyes. The dog seemed to share his sadness. Impossible… Still, he knew guys in the K-9 division that would swear their dogs knew when they were upset. He had seen one of the K-9 officer's break down into tears when his K-9 partner was killed.

He was beginning to see why people would talk to dogs. This dog seemed to be listening to everything he said. Like it cared about what he said or how he felt. Normally, he only felt that way around Hutch. But after the lightning strike, Hutch was different... changed some how. He felt a tear slide down his face. He shouldn't cry, men don't cry. Bullshit. He felt like crying, there was no one to see him do it. No one but a dog and the dog would never tell.

Hutch saw the tear and he could smell it. He pushed his head further into Starsky's hands. He wanted to cry too. He didn't know if he would be stuck like this forever. The brunet rubbed his head then traced his long ears with his fingers, only to return them to his head. It felt good. Hutch leaned in for more.

Starsky skimmed his fingers around the bone structure of the dog's large head. The fur was soft and smelled good. There was a faint 'doggy' smell still, but what the hell, it was a dog, and it should have such an odor. His fingers smoothed over its head again and this time he felt the straps from the muzzle. He didn't give it any thought. He loosened the buckles and removed the muzzle and threw it away. It landed somewhere across the room. The dog nuzzled nearer and licked a tear off his cheek.

That did it. Starsky couldn't hold back anymore and wrapped his arms around the dog and sobbed. He had had to hold himself together over the last two days. He couldn't do it for one more second. The dog crawled half way onto his lap and buried its face in his neck. Starsky completely let go. It was something he rarely did and only in the presence of his best friend.

But Hutch wasn't here. He was in the hospital. Starsky gently pushed the dog's head away from his neck. It looked into his eyes and he looked into its. There wasn't anything about this dog that he should like. He shouldn't trust it. But, somehow he did. And why he did, didn't seem important right now. It seemed as sad as he was. It needed to be hugged, just like he did. It seemed to be hurting, just as he hurt. Perhaps it was missing its master, just as he was missing his best friend. It felt good to hold the big dog in his arms. And so he did.

xxxx

Rosie awoke to the sound of the phone ringing in her parents' bedroom. She listened to her daddy talk quietly on the phone. She heard her mama whisper to daddy and ask what was wrong. She felt cold when she heard her daddy say "His cover was blown"

Did that mean Uncle Ken no longer had covers? Poor Uncle Ken. He must be cold with out his covers. "C'mon Southpaw" She picked up the teddy bear that Uncle Dave had given her for her birthday. She dressed in her blue jeans and put on a sweater and grabbed her hooded sweat jacket, she wondered why it was called a 'sweat jacket', she had never seen it sweat. She shook her head and then grabbed Southpaw and tip-toed down the steps and out into the garage. She then climbed in the back seat of daddy's car.

"Shhh! Be very quiet, Southpaw… we don't want Daddy to know we're here. We gots to go see Uncle Ken, he losted his covers, they gots blowed away from him. He must be so cold" Rosie silenced herself when she heard her daddy walk into the garage. She put a finger to her lips to warn Southpaw to be quiet.

She felt the car dip as her daddy got inside. She knew she could get into trouble for this, but she was so worried about Uncle Ken. He had kepted her from getting runned over by a car and he had gotten more hurted saving her. And now poor Uncle Ken losted his covers, she just couldn't wait until morning. She had to see him tonight.

TBC