Author's Notes: Thanks for sticking with me, I know things were confusing for a while. If you haven't done so already, please reread the earlier chapters, as signifigant changes have been made. I hope you all are having as much fun as I am.

"They're called wattles."

"Wattles? Those little floppy things under the chicken's head are called wattles?" Starsky snorted. "Who thought of that word, Colonel Sanders?"

"Who?"

Starsky blinked, then shook his head. "Never mind. What's next on the list?"

Luke took the empty bucket from Starsky and pointed towards a small, wooden building next to the barn. "I guess you could gather the eggs. Me and Bo hafta rub this liniment on Maudine. We'll be in the barn if you need us, there's a basket right inside the door."

Starsky eyed the chicken coop wearily. "So I just reach in and take the eggs? They don't bite, do they?"

Luke laughed and glanced at Bo. "Just push 'em aside and be quick. They'll move."

Starsky looked between the cousins, trying to find any sort of unspoken information. Finding nothing but two smiling hillbillies, Starsky agreed. "Okay."

Starsky pushed open the wooden door slowly, wincing when the hinges squeaked. He ducked inside.

The smell of bird dung assaulted his nose and Starsky waved a hand in front of his face. The chickens nearest him fluttered around a bit, obviously unaccustomed to the motion. The low hum of clucking chickens filled the air, making the coop feel even smaller than it already was.

"Alright ladies," Starsky mumbled, grabbing the wicker basket next to him. "I'm here to steal your babies, and I don't want any fussing from any of you, got it?"

The hens clucked contentedly.

Starsky began with the first chicken, reaching out and pushing her away with the back of his hand. Feathers beat his hand as she fluttered aside. "Pardon me," Starsky said, making a face as he reached into the mass of straw and twigs, snatching two light-brown colored eggs. As soon as his hand was clear, the hen reclaimed her space.

"Well that was easy," Starsky said, gently placing the eggs in his basket. He took another step and repeated the process with the next chicken.

Soon, Starsky had gathered the eggs from all the nests on the lower roosts. The only row left was the top roost, the one that was nearly level with his head. Now fluent in his egg gathering skills, Starsky reached up and confidently gathered the eggs from the nest on the end. The chicken clucked excitedly as she jumped aside and a few small feathers rained down, sticking in Starsky's curly hair. He shook his head quickly, still leaving one stubborn feather deep within his curls, and stepped to the side.

Starsky reached up, his arm tense in expectation of a nested hen, and was a little surprised when his hand met only air. Where was the hen that built a nest here? Starsky shrugged- maybe they were finally learning to move out of the way. He reached inside the nest, feeling blindly with his hand.

Instead of grasping the smooth warmth of a fragile eggshell, Starsky's fingers closed around something firm and scaly. "What the…" Starsky grabbed the foreign object and pulled it down from the roost.

A long, thick black snake writhed in his hand and Starsky dropped the creature as if he'd been bitten. His heart was suddenly thumping painfully in his throat and Starsky stumbled backwards in to the wall of roosts behind him. His hand was on his gun before he knew it and Starsky was pointing the weapon at the creature, though with his hand trembling like it was, he was more likely to shoot a chicken than the snake.

Unconcerned, the snake slithered out of sight.

The chickens he'd bumped into clucked loudly and flapped their wings in annoyance. Unable to vocalize an apology for all the deep breaths he was drawing, Starsky quickly holstered his gun and fled the chicken coop.

After depositing the basket of eggs on the ground, Starsky ran to the barn. "Hey," he panted, causing an old brown mare to start and shy away from Luke, "There's a… snake… in the chicken coop!" He bent forwards to place his hands on his knees, still numb from the heavy adrenaline burst.

Luke straightened from rubbing the horse's leg and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Well you didn't kill it, did you? They're good to keep the varmints away."

"Kill it?" Starsky repeated incredulously, "It was about to bite me! I was holding it in my hand!" He held his trembling hand out before him to illustrate, still feeling the warm body in his grasp.

"What color was it?"

"Black, I think," Starsky replied. The image was burned in his mind, even though he had only held the creature for a second.

"Well it wouldn't have hurt much," Luke grinned, holding onto the horse's halter. "Just woulda swelled up a little. Those snakes squeeze their pray to death."

Starsky got his breath, finally feeling the adrenaline leave his system. He chose not to respond to Luke's comment as all sorts of horrible images flashed through his mind. "Well, I got all the eggs. Are we done yet?"

"Don't suppose you know how to milk a goat?" Luke questioned.

"Now that's where I draw the line!" Starsky exclaimed, moving further inside the barn. "Call me a 'city boy' all you want, but I am not pulling on any udders!"

Luke laughed and turned towards the horse. "All right city boy, you've helped enough. Help me put Maudine in her stall and we'll see if Bo's done."

Starsky moved forward cautiously, just now noticing how large the horse really was. The old mare clip-clopped slowly and obediently under Luke's guidance, her heavy hooves thumping deeply against the barn's dirt floor as she walked. The horse's shoulders were of equal height to Luke's shoulders, and her large brown head was the length of Luke's torso. In all, the animal was enormous.

Unsure of what to do, Starsky merely trailed along behind- at a distance, because he did know that much about horses- and waited for Luke to guide the animal into it's stall.

Something in the corner caught his attention. Starsky turned, and approached what looked like a bow leaning against the barn wall.

"What's this?" he called to Luke, who was out of view within the horse's stall. Starsky reached out and picked up the weapon, running a finger down the taught string. It was a bow alright.

Luke emerged from the stall, wiping his hands on his jeans before closing the stall door. He came over next to Starsky and pointed to a quiver of arrows. "That there's a compound bow. You into archery?"

Starsky shook his head and patted his side, or more specifically, the Smith and Wesson under his clothing. "Nope. In my line of work, bullets are better."

"Well me and Bo can't have guns with the probation and all. We had to find another way to keep meat on the table."

Starsky remained respectfully silent for a heartbeat, then asked, "So, you any good with this thing?"

Luke smirked. "You any good with that?" he nodded, indicating the gun.

Starsky smiled. "You realize you're talking to a trained police officer, right?"

Luke fiddled with bow's upper limb and his smirk grew into a grin. "Whadda ya say we have a little contest?"

"I say lemme get my partner and we'll show you hillbillies how it's done in the big city."

o0O0o

Starsky entered the living room and found his partner sitting on the floor with his bare back to the chair that Daisy was occupying. Her long legs were on either side of Hutch as she leaned forward, gently rubbing a cream onto the lesser of Hutch's burns. His partner looked… happy.

"All right, break it up," Starsky interrupted, enjoying watching the two jerk apart. "While you've been in here getting pampered, I've been out doing manly things, like breaking wild stallions."

"Starsky, the only horses you've handled are under your car's hood," Hutch sighed, grabbing his shirt from the floor beside him.

"Now Starsky, you're lyin' like a no-legged dog," Daisy chided. "We ain't got any stallions 'round here!"

Starsky's eyes narrowed as he thought about that one.

"Hutch, come on, Luke and I have a little competition going over who's the better marksmen." Starsky moved back as Hutch pushed himself to his feet. "It's me and you against Bo and Luke, you up for it?"

"But Bo and Luke can't shoot guns," Daisy interrupted. "How are they gonna compete with you?"

Starsky smiled as he glanced between her and Hutch. "They'll be using bows and arrows." His heart was beating fast already.

A laugh bubbled up from Hutch. "They know we're trained in firearms, right?"

Daisy looked indignant. "That may be so mister, but you've never seen Bo and Luke use them bows! Why they can nail a fly to a tree while bein' chased by Rosco!"

Hutch carefully pulled his shirt over his head, then ran a hand through his hair. "Well then, this should be pretty interesting."

Hutch followed Starsky outside, wincing a little in the bright sunlight as his eyes adjusted. The temperature was perfect- not too hot and not too cold, and the sun felt good on his skin. There were no traffic noises, no sirens, no pollutants… Hutch decided that when he was old and gray, he wanted to retire to the country.

A distance away, the cousins were setting up bales of straw as targets. Large, multi-colored circles on white paper covered the front of the bales. The straw was carefully positioned in front of an open field, so stray projectiles would be rendered harmless. Apparently satisfied that everything was lined up straight, Bo and Luke walked back towards the house.

"All right gentlemen, we each take a target. Three shots each. Uncle Jesse is the judge. Agreed?"

Hutch looked across the distance at the target, about 100 feet away.

Easy.

"Agreed," Starsky said, pulling out his gun and needlessly checking it over. It was in perfect condition; it always was. He glanced at Hutch and smiled, confidence showing clearly within his eyes.

Uncle Jesse stepped off the porch, joining the group as the screen door banged shut behind him. "What in tarnation is going on out here?" he asked, stomping over to where the men were lining up.

"Uncle Jesse, you're just in time to watch me and Luke teach these boys a lesson," Bo said, removing an arrow from where it was attached to the bow.

Starsky snorted and Hutch rolled his eyes.

"Teach 'em a lesson in what?" Uncle Jesse quipped before his gaze moved ahead to the targets. "Oh, I see."

Luke spoke up. "Now Uncle Jesse, you've got to be the judge, okay? Tell us who hits the closest bull's-eye."

"Well now, my eyes ain't as sharp as they used to be, but I reckon between me and Daisy was can do that fors ya."

"Daisy, you call it," Luke said as he strung an arrow.

Hutch heard his partner mumbling, "You guys are gonna regret this…"and couldn't keep from smiling himself. Seriously now. Did the Dukes really think they had a chance?

Daisy moved to the end of the line, facing the men as they aimed their respective weapons. "Ready…" she started, and Hutch straightened his arms in front of him.

"Aim…"

Hutch tightened his grip and narrowed his eyes, focusing all his energy towards the center yellow circle.

"Fire!"

Hutch pulled the trigger almost simultaneously with Starsky, and the gunfire cracked through the air. The gun recoiled with familiarity and Hutch was barely aware of the arrows silently striking the targets to his left. He quickly aimed again and fired two more shots into the straw, causing the paper to jerk upon the bullet's impact. A second later, the last two arrows plunged into the yellow circles and all fell silent.

The men looked at each other with pride shining brightly in their eyes.

"That's how we do it in the big city," Starsky gloated, blowing on the muzzle of his gun for show.

Bo glared at him. "Don't put the cart before the horse."

"All right now," Uncle Jesse interrupted. "Let's see what we gots."

Uncle Jesse led the group out to the targets and Hutch saw that all of the arrows had impressively hit the center target. Uncle Jesse moved down the line of straw bales, scrutinizing each and making small affirmative noises as he did so. First was Bo's, then Luke's, then Starsky's and then lastly Hutch's. Daisy was at his side and the two were talking quietly between each other, their backs to the shooters.

Luke was leaning on his bow as Uncle Jesse bent over to examine the bullet holes in Hutch's target. "You guys are pretty good," Luke commented, nodding at Starsky's target.

"Yeah, we get lots of practice on criminals," Starsky quipped, holstering his gun.

"Starsky," Hutch admonished, holstering his own gun. "Shooting is a last resort," he said, hoping to ease the worried looks he was receiving.

"Aw, it don't matter anyways," Bo said, "Everyone knows me and Luke are the best in Hazzard."

Starsky quickly shot back, "Well we're the best in Bay City, and our city is bigger than yours."

"This is tougher than a rattlesnake's hide," Uncle Jesse said, standing upright. He seemed oblivious to the verbal sparring that had been taking place behind him. "You boys all done hit the target so perfect, I'd have say it's a tie."

"Now wait a minute Uncle Jesse, are you sure?" Bo questioned, moving closer to examine Starsky's target.

"Course I'm sure, I'm the judge, ain't I?"

It was said with such finality that even Hutch knew better than to argue.

As Bo reached out to touch the holes in Starsky's target, Hutch admired the cousin's perfect aim with the arrows. Sure enough, the arrows were clustered together, all the points buried in the same spot deep within the centermost portion of the target. Hutch was impressed. These country boys had talent after all.

"I call it a draw too," Hutch announced, glancing at the seemingly heart-broken Starsky. "Sorry partner."

"Yeah well, I bet with a little practice we could do that." Starsky grumbled, flicking the end of one of Bo's arrows. The length of it wavered back and forth, and Starsky sighed, then looked into Hutch's eyes.

"That's the spirit," Hutch replied with a smile. Starsky tended to be overly competitive about certain things, and he was glad the brunet wasn't too upset with the outcome of this game.

"Hey, you think Dobey will mind if we start carrying bows and arrows?"

Hutch groaned and followed the others towards the farmhouse.

"What? Think about it, they're a lot cheaper, certainly quieter, just as dangerous… we could start a revolution! Hutch? Where you going? Hutch!"

o0O0o

"Ooh, we got 'em now, Flash!" Sheriff Rosco giggled from his hiding place behind a thick forsythia bush. Peering intently through a large set of binoculars, Rosco watched as the Duke family plus those two strangers from last night entered the farmhouse. He set down his binoculars and wrapped one arm around the mournful basset hound at his side. "Boss is gonna be happier than a hound with a bone when I tell him what those Duke boys are up to now!"

Flash barked once, because it always seemed to make her owner happy, then lay her head down and tried to go back to sleep.