Chapter 6

Hutch smiled as he watched Starsky laughing happily as he watched Rosie Dobey unwrapping the mound of colorfully wrapped presents on the table in front of her. As far as the brunet was concerned the party was a success. He fit in with the other children at the party effortlessly. He was waiting patiently for Edith to serve the ice cream and cake which came after Rosie was done opening her presents.

An hour later, Hutch was tired and ready to go home. Still, he couldn't say no when Rosie begged him to stay just a little bit longer.

"We can stay for a little while." Hutch told her with a smile, kneeling down so that he was on her level as he talked to her. "But then we have to go so Uncle Dave can go home and take a nap. I think you wore him out."

Rosie giggled at the thought of wearing out her Uncle Dave and skipped over to the table where Starsky was eating his second bowl of ice cream. While the three adults went inside for a cup of coffee and to relax, Starsky and Rosie sat at the table examining all of her gifts.

"You sure got some neat stuff." Starsky said, "For a girl that is. Did I tell you that I got a new train?"

"Can I come over and play with it some time?" Rosie asked.

"Sure. You'll have to ask your mom and dad first and I'll have to ask Hutch if it's okay." If Rosie thought there was anything strange about Starsky saying that he had to ask Hutch's permission to have Rosie come over, the little girl didn't mention it. She found a checker board amongst her presents and set it up. It was one game that Starsky could play without his current limitations being noticeable.

Thee games later, Hutch told Starsky that it was time to go home. They said their goodbyes and left the Dobey's home. As they pulled out of the driveway, Starsky waved a final goodbye to Rosie and then said to Hutch, "I like Rosie. She's okay for a girl. And I think she likes me too."

"I know she does, pal." Hutch told him. "You're one of her favorite uncles, remember?"

"How can I be her uncle? We're not related." Starsky said in a puzzled voice. "We don't even look the same. I'm white and she's black." Once more, the simple innocence of a child's logic showed through in his statement.

"She calls you Uncle Dave because she wants to." Hutch tried to explain so that Starsky would understand. "It means she likes you a lot."

"I like her too. A lot." Starsky declared with a happy smile on his face. "So it's okay if she calls me Uncle Dave…even if I'm not really her uncle."

"I'm glad we got that settled." Hutch said with a chuckle. At least Starsky hadn't asked any more pointed questions that put Hutch on the spot.

Hutch settled down to read the newspaper while Starsky got out his new train set and set it up on the living room floor. Soon, he was playing happily and making train sounds as he watched the train race around the track. The ringing of the telephone claimed Hutch's attention. He grabbed the receiver and said, "Hello?"

"Ken? It's Rachel." Starsky's mothers voice said on the other end of the line. "I was just calling to see how David was doing. Is he any better?"

"Uh…not exactly. He's still pretty much the same. Right now he playing with his new train set."

"I can just see him now," Rachel said with chuckle. "He always loved trains. He was heartbroken when he left home and couldn't take the set Michael had bought him with him on the bus. Could I talk to him?"

"Sure." Hutch glanced at his curly haired partner and said, "Hey, buddy…your mom's on the phone."

Starsky's eyes lit up with delight and he jumped to his feet, grabbing the phone from Hutch's hand. "Hi, Ma." He said, "I got a new train set and it's really neat. Huggy bought it for me."

"Good. Are you having a good time with Ken?"

"Yes…but when can I come home? I miss you."

"I know you do, baby. Soon, I promise."

'Okay…" Starsky said with a trace of sadness in his voice.

" Let me talk to Ken again."

"She wants to talk to you again." Starsky said with a pout, handing the phone back to Hutch.

"Ken?" Rachel said.

"I'm here."

"He must be a handful. I know he was when he really was that age. Always asking questions, always wandering off to explore."

"He still does." Hutch told her with a chuckle. He glanced at Starsky who had gone back to playing with his train. "And he really hates to take a bath and get ready for bed."

"Oh, yes…I know." Rachel said, with a laugh. "I hope you're using lots of bubbles. That's the only way I could ever get him to take one without a fuss…at least until he decided he liked girls…"

Hutch laughed heartily. "Right now the only girl he knows is Rosie Dobey and he's decided that she's okay…for a girl."

"I know you're taking good care of him. Just don't let him have his way all the time." Rachel's voice turned serious, "Call me if there's any chance. I love talking to him anytime but I do miss being able to have a normal conversation with him."

"So do I. And I'll call as soon as there's anything to tell you." Hutch promised. He hung up the phone and settled back in his chair to watch Starsky at play. He missed the adult Starsky too and hoped that he would have him back soon.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Hutch asked, his patience wearing thin. He had already suggested reading a book, coloring, and going to the beach but nothing seemed to interest the brunet.

"Can I drive your car?" Starsky asked in a hopeful tone as if he really expected Hutch to agree. Hutch knew that the adult Starsky was an excellent driver, one of the best on the force, but, at the moment, that was a skill Hutch didn't think that he was capable of performing.

"No." Hutch said firmly.

"Can I hold your gun?" He asked, picking an even more farfetched idea.

"No."

"You're mean." Starsky said with a pout. "I don't like you anymore." He stood up from where he'd been sitting on the floor and went into the bedroom, stomping his feet loudly and slamming the door so hard that it rattled the pictures on the wall. A few minutes later, Hutch heard a thumping sound against the wall that separated the bedroom from the living room. Opening the bedroom door, he found Starsky lying on his back on the floor, kicking his feet against the wall.

"You need to stop that right now." Hutch scolded him. "You're scuffing up the wall."

"So? Go away and leave me alone." Starsky grumbled sullenly.

"Not until you stop kicking the wall." Hutch repeated sternly.

Glaring at Hutch angrily, Starsky stopped kicking the wall and turned around so that he could kick the nightstand instead. When he did, the lamp on the stand crashed to the floor and shattered. Without thinking about his actions, Hutch grabbed Starsky's by the arm and pulled him to his feet, delivering a solid swat with the palm of his hand across the seat of the brunet's jeans. Starsky squealed in a combination of shock and outrage. Jerking his arm away from Hutch, he turned to face the big blond and said,

"You can't spank me! You're not my Pop!"

"No, I'm not, but I am going to spank you if you keep acting like a spoilt brat!" Hutch threatened, his patience worn thin from the brunet's antics all morning. "You can stay in your room until you're ready to behave!"

Something hit the door with a solid thud as Hutch pulled it shut behind him. He walked into the kitchen to get some coffee to give himself time to calm down. If Starsky wanted to throw a temper tantrum and act like a brat, then Hutch was going to treat him like one. The only problem was how to reinforce the punishment when the person you're punishing is as almost as big as you are? Mentally, Starsky might be acting like a spoiled child but, physically, he was still an adult male who was just as strong as Hutch was.

Hutch fixed some sandwiches for lunch and then knocked lightly on the bedroom door. "Davey, I made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Do you want one?"

"No." Starsky's sullen, disagreeable voice said through the bedroom door. "Go away! I don't like you anymore! I wanna go home!"

"You are home, pal…" Hutch said under his breath, "You just don't know it."

He turned and went back into the kitchen to eat his own lunch. He knew that, eventually, Starsky's stomach would force him out of the bedroom. Going without food for any long periods of time contributed to the brunet's irritability and foul mood. With his high metabolism, Starsky needed almost constant refueling to maintain his high energy level.

Finally, Hutch heard the bedroom door creak open and a still sulking Starsky crept into the room. Without a word, he grabbed two of the leftover sandwiches from the table and wolfed them down. Glaring at Hutch, he demanded, "I wanna go to the toy store."

"Not today, pal." Hutch said, "It's Sunday. They're closed."

"Don't care!" Starsky said, stomping his foot. "I wanna go! Now!"

"We can't. I told you they're closed today."

"I wanna go! I wanna go!" Starsky yelled, throwing himself down on the floor, kicking and screaming, like a toddler in a full blown tantrum. Tears ran down the brunet's cheeks and his face turned red as he gave way to his anger and frustration. Finally, Hutch had had enough. He grabbed a flailing arm and pulled the brunet to his feet, delivering three solid swats to his squirming backside. Starsky stopped screaming and looked at Hutch in shock. "You hit me!" He said in an accusing tone, his face still slightly flushed.

"And I'll do it again if you don't stop it!" Hutch declared, "You've been acting like a brat all morning!"

"I wanna go home. Why can't I go home?" Starsky whimpered, his eyes flooding with unshed tears. Instinctively, Hutch reached out and grabbed the distraught brunet, pulling him close and stroking his soft curls as Starsky rested his head against Hutch's shoulder, calming and soothing him.

"I know you do, buddy." Hutch whispered, "I know you do. Soon…I promise."

Starsky pulled away from Hutch and stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Hutch sighed softly as he stared at the closed door. He was as frustrated as Starsky at the current circumstances. He wanted his friend back. They were both hurting and trying to make the best out of a bad situation. It had been almost a week and there seemed to be little change in Starsky's condition.