Disclaimer: I don't own Starsky and hutch, nor do I own this version of Death which is supposed to at least be Terry Prachett's Discworld Death. I don't own Ingmar Bergman's Seventh Seal, either, though beware, there are some spoilers for the movie here.

Author's note: There was a death in my family rcently, so I took the time from the longer fic I've been writing (still working on it) to write this. One thing, the reference to the mark on Starsky's forehead and the One who put it there come from the fic I'm working on. At some point when i finish it, all will be revealed.


Starsky Enforces His Law

The hospital room was dark and still, only the quiet noises of the machinery and the tortured breathing of the figure on the bed broke the quiet. David Starsky sat next to the bed, holding his partner's hand.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. They had survived so much, poisoning and plague, and Hutch's imprisonment under his crashed car, and more shootings than he cared to think about, most recently Gunther's hit. They had survived all that, how could it come to this, a simple bout of pneumonia? And why did Hutch have pneumonia, anyway? It was Starsky that had been left with only a lung-and-a-half, Starsky who was still fragile and subject to respiratory infections. In fact, Starsky had been in just this situation only a month ago, and he'd survived. But the plague had left Hutch's lungs weak, too, they always forgot about that in the worry about Starsky's, and now it was Hutch who was here, and it was beginning to look as though their luck had run out.

"IT'S ALMOST TIME, YOU KNOW." It was a strange, sepulchral voice.

Starsky looked up, to find himself being watched by a skeletal figure in black robes. He swallowed hard. "You're Death, aren't you?"

The figure nodded once.

"Whadda' you mean 'It's almost time?' I'm not letting you take him... hey, how come I can see you, anyway?" Even at a moment like this, Starsky's eternal curiosity ran away with him.

Death leaned forward and put out one bony finger. Starsky held firm and didn't flinch as it touched him on the forehead. "YOU'VE BEEN MARKED, HERE. THAT LETS YOU SEE ME."

Starsky shrugged. "Oh that? That's just a little something I picked up while I was dead..." His eyes narrowed. "Hey wait a minute. How come I didn't see you when I died?"

"YOU HAD OTHER THINGS ON YOUR MIND. I SAW YOU."

Starsky waved it aside as of no importance. "Well that doesn't matter anyway. I'm not letting you take Hutch."

"I DON'T THINK YOU CAN STOP ME."

"Hey, I know the rules. If I can see you, I can negotiate with you. That's the way it always works."

"WHAT, IN ALL THOSE OLD MOVIES YOU WATCH? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK IT REALLY WORKS THAT WAY?"

"I'm just betting it does. So how about it? You take me and let him go, how about that? I cheated you once by living, you have to want me back, right?" He had been willing to die for Hutch before, this was no different.

"NOT REALLY. I HAVE LEARNED, YOU HUMANS CAN ONLY CHEAT ME FOR SO LONG. EVENTUALLY I WILL COME TO ALL OF YOU. BESIDES, HE ALREADY MADE THAT BARGAIN. YOU CAN'T MAKE IT BACK."

Starsky felt as though all the blood in his body had chilled, as though all his breath had been sucked out. "What do you mean, he already made that bargain? You mean Hutch offered to take my place? When?"

"LAST MONTH, WHEN IT WAS YOU WITH PNEUMONIA."

"How?" Starsky demanded. "You said I could only see you because of this." He touched his forehead. "So how did Hutch see you?"

"HE DIDN'T. BUT HE KNEW I WAS NEAR. HE BEGGED ME TO MAKE THE SWITCH. I FELT IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD. BESIDES, I COULD SEE YOUR FOREHEAD. I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE BETTER NOT TO ANNOY YOUR... PATRON."

"Stupid Blintz, why'd he go and do something like that?" Starsky rubbed his forehead. The One who had given him the mark, a "Decoration for Valor" He had called it, had said it would be a help against things he couldn't see. Somehow this wasn't what Starsky had thought He'd meant. But his mind was working fast now, and he was already looking for ways out.

"All right. So I know this story. Its one of those Greek myths, right? The King is supposed to die, but the Gods allow someone to take his place. But the only one who's willing is his wife. So she agrees, and she starts dying. And the King tried to trade places again, but it's not allowed. Am I right so far?"

"BASICALLY, YES."

"OK, but the story had a happy ending. 'Cause when Death, that's you I guess, came to collect her, some guy was waiting, and wrestled you for her, and won. Right?" Starsky ended triumphantly.

"YES. BUT THE ONE WHO WRESTLED ME WAS HERCULES, AND HE WAS THE SON OF A GOD. ONLY HE COULD HAVE DONE IT. NO MORTAL COULD. I'M SORRY."

Starsky heard what sounded like a real touch of regret in Death's hollow tone, and knew that he was telling the truth. But he wasn't defeated yet. Something was digging at the back of his brain, something from his favorite source of information, the movies.

"OK, so I can't fight you physically. Fair enough. But what about some kind of contest?"

Death's eyes glowed warningly, but Starsky was on a roll. "That foreign movie Hutch took me to see, what was the directors name... Burger? Bergdorf? Bergman, that was it. The Seventh Seal. The knight who played chess with Death." He came up with it triumphantly. Death was shaking his head now, but Starsky wasn't backing down. "I'll play you a game of chess for his life."

Death actually looked non-plussed. "NOT CHESS. PLEASE, NOT CHESS. HOW ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE? LIKE A NICE GAME OF... MONOPOLY?"

Starsky hardened his heart against the very real distress he heard in Death's voice. If the truth were to be told, he would rather play a different game than chess. But not Monopoly. Terry's final gift not withstanding, he still couldn't even beat Hutch at the game, and he suspected Death could cheat better than Hutch could.

"Nope, chess. It's traditional." He stared pugnaciously at the robed figure, and tapped his forehead again, hoping that Death's disinclination to annoy his benefactor would extend to this as well.

Death heaved a sigh. "VERY WELL. I AGREE. CHESS IT IS. WAIT HERE AND I WILL FETCH A CHESS SET."

This time Starsky was paying attention, and he heard the muffled sound of hooves as Death returned. How the big pale colored horse fit in the hospital room, Starsky couldn't understand, but somehow things had gotten very surrealistic, and the edges of the room seemed to fade off in the distance.

Death laid a large chessboard on Hutch's bed table, and pulled up a chair to the other side, so that they were actually playing over Hutch's body. "WHITE OR BLACK?" Death asked.

ooOOoo

They had been playing for some time now, and Starsky was feeling the strain. But he plastered a big irritating smile on his face as he made his next move.

"THAT IS A TOTALLY ILLOGICAL MOVE." Death said in a strangled voice. "I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE PLAY AS ILLOGICALLY AS YOU." He went to make his own move.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Starsky asked helpfully.

Death stopped and looked at the board. "UM. I THINK I DO. ISN'T THIS HOW THE LITTLE HORSES ARE SUPPOSED TO MOVE?"

"Oh, do you have trouble remembering how the ponies hop around too?" Starsky asked brightly. "Hey, lookit my horse. Doesn't it kinda' look like yours?" He pointed to the other side of the room, where Death's mount was placidly standing watching the game. Death turned involuntarily to look. "Hey, it's your turn again." Starsky added.

Death turned his attention back to the board. "So" Starsky broke in cheerily, "What's your horses name?"

Death looked up, distracted. "BINKY" he said in the tone of someone daring you to make something of it.

"Binky?" Starsky gaped. "Binky? Death's horse is named Binky?"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH BINKY AS A NAME?" Death said darkly.

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all." Starsky assured him seriously. Then he ruined it by obviously suppressing a giggle. "Hey, it's your turn again. Oops, I took your building here." He removed Death's remaining rook.

ooOOoo

Time had moved on and they were obviously reaching the endgame. Starsky swallowed, determined not to show Death his nervousness.

"So" he said in the brittle tone of someone forcing conversation, "How'd a nice guy like you get to be Death, anyway? You're much nicer than the character in the movie."

Death looked as puzzled as it was possible for an empty skull to look. "I DID NOT 'BECOME' DEATH, I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN DEATH."

"Well it seems like an odd choice of career, that's all. I mean, with your looks, you'd be a natural in Hollywood. They'd love you in horror films. You coulda' played yourself in the Bergdorf movie."

"DO YOU REALLY THINK SO?" Death asked, sounding intrigued.

"Hey, I know so. Oh, sorry, I took your lady." Starsky added, removing Death's queen.

"I DO NOT SEEM TO HAVE MANY PIECES LEFT." Death said in a puzzled voice. "HOWEVER" he added more cheerfully, "I BELIEVE THIS PUTS YOU IN CHECK." He studied the board, and added dubiously "DOESN'T IT?"

Starsky felt a surge of excitement but suppressed it. Death was falling into the same trap Hutch had when they played chess years before. "Well, yes, it does." he admitted. "But if I move my pointy-headed guy..." He brought his bishop in for the kill.

"OH DEAR." Death murmured. "THAT ONLY LEAVES ME THIS MOVE." He made it.

"Are you certain about that?" Starsky asked calmly.

"AH, WELL... YES, I AM."

Relief rushed over Starsky. He moved his queen in with a flourish. "Check" he said triumphantly. "And mate." He tipped over Death's king.

Death stared blankly at the board. "ARE YOU SURE?" he asked plaintively.

"Absolutely" Starsky gloated. "So Hutch is mine."

"SO HE IS" Death agreed. "FOR NOW. BUT REMEMBER, JUST LIKE THE KNIGHT IN THE MOVIE COULD NOT ULTIMATELY CHEAT ME, SO EVENTUALLY YOU AND HUTCH WILL BOTH BE MINE." Suddenly he sounded totally different than the friendly, slightly befuddled figure Starsky had been playing with. "HOWEVER, AS I SAID, I CAN AFFORD TO WAIT."

"That's OK" Starsky said. "We'll come up with something else next time." He reached out to shake Death's hand.

Death took his hand, then stood up and collected the chess pieces and the set. "I WILL BE SEEING YOU AGAIN, BUT I HOPE FOR BOTH OUR SAKES IT IS NOT TOO SOON." He mounted Binky, and was gone.

Starsky blinked and looked around. Had that been real? "Hey Hutch" he murmured. "I just had the weirdest dream..." He patted his sleeping partners head, the exhausted, slumped down on the chair next to him.

ooOOoo

When the nurse came in an hour later to check her patient's condition, she found his partner fallen asleep with his head on Hutch's pillow. Hutch himself was noticeably better. His fever had broken, and his breathing was easier. The nurse smiled. It looked like another miracle of modern medicine had occurred, and this one would pull through.

As she walked to the door, she felt her foot come down on something hard and round. She reached down and picked it up. A chess pawn? Where, she wondered, had that come from?