Starsky was used to waiting for Hutch with his long walks. He had hung up the phone from Huggy and Dobey, after having to wait fifteen minutes for Dobey to return his call. He glanced at the clock, and noticed it was close to an hour since Hutch left. He frowned. An uneasy feeling stirred in him and he decided to give Hutch five more minutes. Walking in the snow would take longer, he rationalized, and Hutch tended to become lost in thought. Starsky knew the walk would relax his tense partner and Hutch would be able to reason better with a clear head.

Starsky, feeling a few butterflies as well as rumbling in his stomach, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. Then another. "Time's up, Blondie." He marched over to the couch and picked up Hutch's golden leather jacket. He couldn't get it to zip over his bulky blue sweater and cursed. Yeah, Hutch would give him hell about his diet and his thicker middle. "Well, not everyone can be a Nordic golden boy like you, Blondie." He grabbed his blue wool scarf and Hutch's blue cap and changed from his blue tennis shoes to black boots. He went out the front door and promptly tripped down the steps, landing face first in the snow. Cursing, he righted himself and shook the snow off like a dog slinging water. The weather temperature had dropped and Starsky could see his frozen breath. "I'm not playing Gerda to your Kai," he grunted. He shuffled to Mickey's car, starting it and letting it run for a minute before taking off. His lights on bright, he could not see anything moving in the long driveway. Checking for boot tracks, he turned left, going slow. Tire tracks going both ways were in the snow. He could see Hutch's boot marks stop a couple of miles down the road. "He must have turned back here," Starsky muttered to himself. "There where is he?" The worry increased and Starsky forced himself to drive slowly. He could see the boot marks for another mile. Conscious of the drops on either side of the road, he drove at a snail's pace. At one point the boot marks ended with signs of a car swerving. "No, no!" Starsky yelled, slamming the brakes and jerking the car into park, then jumping out. "Hutch!" he called, heart pounding. If the car had hit Hutch, where could he be?

He shuddered at his looked down the steep drop on the left side. The flashlight beams only captured the white snow. Cursing, he shone the light in front of him. About fifteen feet away, in a mound of snow, he caught sight of a black glove sticking out. "Oh, God, Hutch," he said as he scampered to the mound. The glove was attached to the blond, who was mostly hidden by the snow. Starsky quickly uncovered his partner and checked for a pulse. He found one, but Hutch was unconscious and Starsky didn't know how badly he was hurt. He did a quick exam and concluded he couldn't leave Hutch in the cold. He ran back to the car, opened the passenger side door and then dragged Hutch to the door. "I still say you don't weigh much less than I do," he scolded his unresponsive partner, "despite all that health junk you call food." Straining, he was able to get Hutch inside the car, shut the door and ran to the driver's seat. "Hang on, Hutch, I'll have you warm in no time." He drove as fast as possible to the house and struggled to carry Hutch in the house. "You get your exercise walking and I get mine dragging your sorry butt around."

He put Hutch in front of the fireplace after brushing off as much snow as possible and grabbing a couple of blankets to cover his friend. Then he rushed to the phone, dialing first the police, then Joshua.

"Starsky?" Joshua answered.

"Joshua, Hutch was apparently hit by a car. He's unconscious and I don't know how bad he is hurt. I got him to Ingrid's home. The police said there was a major pileup on the highway, and all the ambulances are tied up. How soon can you get here?"

"I was going to check on Mickey, but I'll be there as soon as I can. Try not to move Ken and warm him up the best you can," Joshua was crisp and professional, despite the worry in his voice.

"Here that, Hutch, help is on the way." Starsky rambled. He stoked the fire, yanked off Hutch's jacket and gloves, and checked his friend.

Hutch's face was almost as pale and as cold as the snow. Starsky patted his friend's cheeks. "Come on, Blondie. Open those pretty blues for me."

Starsky decided to remove the wet jeans and boots and socks from Hutch. He tugged and finally got the boots and socks off but struggled trying to remove the wet jeans. Finally, he grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting. "We both know this is how they do it in the hospital, buddy, and I'll buy you another pair."

Hutch's legs felt as cold as the outside wind. Starsky covered his legs with the blankets, then ran to grab some more and throw them in the dryer to heat. For the first time he realized he also had wet jeans, and stripped his boots, socks and jeans off, pulling on a pair of sweats and wool socks. He divested himself of Hutch's leather jacket which had protected him from the snow. His blue sweater was still dry. Freezing, he left the dryer to make some hot coffee, checking back on his partner every few minutes. He had found some sweatpants and woolen socks and managed to get them on Hutch. He got the warmed sheets out of the dryer, pulling the others off and wrapped them around Hutch while drinking the hot coffee and putting the other blankets in the dryer to warm.

"C'mon, partner," he pleaded. "I've got hot coffee to warm you up on the inside. I'll even put together one of those disgusting health shakes you love. It isn't just anyone I would do that for. I'll give up donuts if you just open your eyes. Please, Blondie. You're scaring me."

"Cccold," Hutch mumbled, shivering despite the warm blankets.

"That's it, that's it, I'm here, you're safe, I'll take good care of you like always."

"Ssooo cold." Hutch began to thrash. "Hhhelp me, Starsk. Car."

"I'm here, I'll help, let me get those warmed blankets out," and Starsky ran back to the dryer and pulled the other two out he had put in. He grabbed two pillows from the bedroom and crawled under the blankets. Hutch's body still felt cold to touch. Starsky pulled Hutch close. "I've got you, you're safe, we'll get you all warmed up. Joshua will be here shortly, and he'll know exactly what to do. Never can leave you alone for a minute, you'll find some way to get yourself in a situation and cost me one of my nine lives." He kept rambling, hoping the sound of his voice and his touch would help calm his agitated partner. "We'll figure this out, don't you worry. Ain't nothing we can't solve together. Still checking for a Wilson."

"Williams," Hutch murmured.

"No, Hutch, she said Wilson." Starsky reassured his cold friend. "Williams can sound like Wilson especially if someone is having a hard time talking, or someone is in shock like Mickey must be . . ." Starsky trailed off. "Damn. Williams. Jed wasn't talking about anyone in the Duluth PD. He meant Russell Williams in our PD. The one we kept checking on but haven't come up with anything. Damn."

TBC