Chapter Three

The hands on the clock said ten p.m. and official visiting hours had been over for a good two hours but Starsky and Hutch had been so engrossed in their chess games and conversation that they had hardly noticed the time passing. Carrying a cardboard box in her hands, Mac paused outside the door, listening to the happy banter and smiled to herself. It sounded like Tom had done it again: got an emotionally defensive patient to open up and begin some of the mental and emotional healing that was clearly needed. Now it was time to see if she could get Detective Hutchinson to go home and get some rest. She hoped the present she was bringing would help. She turned the handle on the door and stepped in.

"So how did the chess game go?" she asked.

"Great," said Starsky and "Terrible," said Hutch at exactly the same time.

"Hey, at least you won one game!" Starsky protested.

Hutch huffed. "Yeah, I suppose that game wasn't too bad."

"Well, I hate to break up your party but visiting hours are over and Detective Hutchinson needs to go home," Mac said, sounding strict but this effect was softened by the smile on her lips.

"He's promised to go tonight," Starsky informed her, "And you should call him "Ken". We're all friends after all."

"I'm right here Starsk. I can speak for myself," Hutch reminded him.

"I know you're here buddy, but it's time you weren't."

"Okay, okay, I get the hint." Hutch stood up and put his college style jacket back on. "Anything else you need before I go? Anything you want me to bring in for you tomorrow?"

"Well, if you're offering, maybe a decent meatball sandwich."

Mac groaned. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that!"

Hutch hovered and Mac could see he was hesitating, fighting a wave of rising anxiety.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I've got something for you Dave." She opened the cardboard box she was holding and pulled out a telephone. "I managed to sneak this out of housekeeping. If I'd told them who it was for they would have taken it back. They're not going to forgive you anytime soon for the mess made by the sprinklers in your old room!"

Starsky and Hutch had the grace to look shame-faced. Mac plugged the phone into a wall socket and placed it on Starsky's bedside table.

"Thanks Mac. That's great. I can ring my Mom from here on Friday. Hutch won't have to wheel me down the corridor."

Mac reached into the box and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Hutch. "And that's for you Ken. It's the extension number for this room so you can call Dave when you get home tonight and check up on him in the morning."

"Thanks," Hutch said softly. "That's really kind of you."

"Well, it's the best way to get rid of you. Stop you cluttering up my department and getting in the way of my nurses," Mac said gruffly but she wasn't fooling either of them. "Well, I'll say good night Dave. I'm going off shift now but I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night Mac, and thanks again."

After she'd left the room, Hutch carefully folded the piece of paper she had given him and placed it in his pocket. Wordlessly, he held out his hand to Starsky who took it and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Call me when you get home buddy. I'll be right here waiting."

Hutch nodded and headed to the door, pausing to take one last look at his friend who smiled encouragingly and gave him a thumbs-up. Hutch nodded again and grabbed the door handle, heading quickly through the door before he could think about changing his mind.

As he approached the elevator, he could see Mac hovering. She gave him a smile and offered tentatively, "I thought I'd walk you out, if you want."

Hutch nodded silently, not sure he could trust himself to speak. The doors opened and they stepped inside. Mac pressed the button for the ground floor and the lift began to move. They made the ride in silence. When they reached the ground floor, the two of them headed down the long beige coloured corridor that led to the front exit and the car parks.

Mac said, "He's in safe hands, you know. He'll still be there when you get home and when you wake up in the morning."

Hutch paused a few yards from the exit and turned towards Mac. "I know that up here," he said tapping the side of his head. "It's just the rest of me is taking a while to catch up."

Mac touched his arm gently. "I know but it will get easier Ken, I promise. Just take a little time to start looking after yourself now. Dave's got lots of people looking after him. You can ease up a little."

"Thanks Nurse MacKenzie. You've been very kind."

"If I'm going to call you Ken, you'd better call me Laura," she observed. "Now head on home and call that partner of yours as soon as you get in or he'll be worrying you've crashed on the way. He's just as bad a worrier as you are, you know."

Hutch smiled at her observation. "Yes ma'am. I'll do that. See you tomorrow?"

"I'm sure you will. I'm heading off to the staff car park, which is this way," she informed him as she indicating a door over to the right, "So I'll say good night Ken."

"Good night Laura," Hutch said. Then he took a deep breath and headed out of the hospital to go home for the night for the first time in months.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Starsky had just put the phone down from talking to his buddy. Hutch had stayed on the line for twenty minutes, seeking reassurance that Starsky would be all right without him. Starsky shook his head, a wry smile crossing his face. "He's a worse worrier than me!" he thought, "But at least he's gone home and hopefully will get some proper sleep tonight."

Starsky took a sip of the hot chocolate he'd persuaded the on-call nurse to bring him and settled back against his pillows. He looked at the pad of paper that Tom had left with him earlier. Maybe now was a good time to start on that list. He pulled it over onto his lap and picked up a pencil from his bedside table. He tapped the wooden covered writing tool against his teeth a few times and then started chewing the end while he thought about what he wanted to write down. How to start? Tom had said 'just write and see what comes out of your fingers'.

All right let's see how this goes. He wrote the title "Things that need to change" and "My goals for the future" and underlined both. Then he went over them a few times with his pencil so that they stood out on the page. Hmm, what next. 'Just write and see what comes out of your fingers', he reminded himself.

He started writing:

Tom says I should make a list of what I really want. Some sort of psycho mumbo jumbo but I'm going to try! Don't know if it will do any good but maybe it will make things clearer in my mind. Here goes.

Half an hour later, he found the pad was filled with seven changes he wanted to make and six goals he wanted to achieve. He felt a strange mixture of elation and exhaustion. He re-read what he'd written and smiled at the first entry - Change one: Get Hutch to sleep and go home. Next to it, he wrote 'Achieved'.

"That's a good start," he said out loud then he carefully tore the paper from the pad and placed it inside the comic he was currently reading. Yawning, he put the pad and pencil back on the bedside table and re-arranged his pillows. He turned off the lamp and settled down to sleep, feeling calmer and more hopeful about the future than he had for a long, long time.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch had to admit that Tom, the Chaplain, must be doing something right. Starsky had had three sessions with the man and his mood seemed to have improved a little each time they had met. Starsky seemed to be trying to be more patient with the pace of his recovery now and more hopeful that he would eventually get back to where he wanted to be. In turn, this was making Hutch feel more optimistic than he had felt in a long time.

The improvement in Starsky's overall mood however hadn't stopped him from occasionally having an outburst of frustration mostly brought on by boredom. A bored Starsky had always been a problem: now the problem was a hundred times worse. There were only so many chess games, rounds of monopoly or even pinochle that they could play to keep Starsky entertained. However, tonight, he hoped he could do something about the boredom by getting Starsky's mind working.

There was also the fact that Starsky had only seen the inside of the hospital for the long weeks of recuperation and he was, not surprisingly, going stir crazy. Hutch was determined to talk to one of the doctors, or maybe Laura, to see if he could arrange a little trip out for his friend as soon as possible.

Even though he knew it would make him late to see Starsky, he went and tracked Laura down and asked her if she thought he would be allowed to take Starsky out of the hospital for a few hours in the next couple of days. She promised to ask the doctor on call and let him know as soon as she could. Hutch thanked her and headed to Starsky's room.

"Hey buddy, you're late!" Starsky greeted him as he walked into the room. "How was your day?"

"Okay. How was yours?"

The reply was dripping with sarcasm: "T'riffic. Never better: only two pints of blood taken today by the bloodsuckers; only failed three physio tasks; had boiled beef for lunch, yum; and no visitors to disturb my scintillating afternoon of reading, sleeping and staring at the ceiling."

Hutch ignored the rant. He took off his jacket and gun and hung them on the back of the chair before settling himself on the seat. When he spoke, he proceeded as if Starsky hadn't spoken: "So do you feel up to talking a little shop?"

Starsky's countenance immediately lightened. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think I could do with your help. Nobody does gut instinct like you partner."

Starsky sat up a little straighter, saying, "Okay partner, fill me in."

Hutch proceed to tell him about two cold cases he'd been reviewing: one had taken place a year and a half ago, the murder of an accountant as he was getting out of his car to collect some dry cleaning; the other had taken place just under three years ago, the poisoning of a bricklayer at a bar he regularly frequented.

"And you think there's a connection?" Starsky asked.

Hutch rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not sure. There's something there. I feel it."

"Even though the MO is different?"

"Yeah."

"Did they have any acquaintances in common, any gym memberships, that sort of thing?"

"No. Completely different walks of life."

"Family?"

"James Bartholomew, the accountant, was married with three children: one at Bay City High School, the others go to their local middle school. Eddie Dunn, the bricklayer, was separated with joint custody of one kid," Hutch reported.

"Their wives don't know each other?"

"Not as far as I can see from the notes made by the previous detectives."

"Where does Dunn's kid go to school?"

"Bay City High School."

Starsky leaned forward. "And that's the thin thread that makes you think the cases might be related?"

"Yeah. It's pretty thin, isn't it?" Hutch admitted.

"Buddy, I'd back your instincts any time…You know you should go to the High School and see if those kids take any of the same classes?"

"That's a good idea Starsk. Thanks. I'll pop over there as soon as I can."

"Wish I could go with you," Starsky said wistfully.

"I know buddy. If I could take you with me, I would…but I am hoping I can get you out of the hospital for a few hours this week."

"Really?" Starsky looked so excited that Hutch wished he hadn't told him in case he couldn't get permission.

"Just waiting for a doctor to sign off on it."

"Oh." Starsky wrinkled his face. "Do you think they will let me out?"

"Don't see why they shouldn't partner. You're practically back to normal."

Just then the door opened and Mac came in. She smiled at Hutch and informed him that the doctor on call had said he thought it would be fine.

"There are some ground rules though."

"I'll do whatever the doctor wants," Starsky was quick to say. "It would just be great to get out of here for a while."

Mac counted off on her fingers. "One: four hours maximum. Two: no public enclosed spaces where you could pick up an infection. Your immune system is still low. Three: No burritos."

"That's just cruel!" Starsky wailed. "Did the doc really say that?"

"He didn't," Mac said, "but I'm saying it because I know you. At least another week before you can try eating anything like that Dave."

Starsky grumbled under his breath.

"Hey buddy," Hutch patted his arm. "At least you're being allowed out…Want me to come and get you tomorrow afternoon?"

Starsky nodded and the look he gave Hutch was so grateful, Hutch felt a lump in his throat. His voice was husky when he inquired, "Where'd you like to go buddy? I'll take you anywhere you want."

Starsky answered with no hesitation: "The beach…our usual spot babe."

Hutch grinned at him. "Our usual spot at the beach sounds good. Real good."

Both men leaned back, still smiling at each other and Mac felt like she was intruding on a private moment so slipped quietly out of the room.

A moment later, Starsky noticed her absence, "Where did Mac go? We didn't thank her for getting the doc to sign off on my outing."

"Not sure buddy, but I'll make sure I thank her before I go home," Hutch assured him.

Starsky nodded with a contented sigh and started thinking about what flavour ice cream he was going to get Hutch to buy him tomorrow. The anticipation of it almost had him drooling.