Chapter 15 A bit of an adult theme going on here. Jusy a bit of fun. Be warned!

The night was quiet, Starsky opened his eyes and looked around the room wondering what had woken him. It wasn't dark, as Sam had said. Instead there was a dusky twilight in the room, neither dark nor fully light. It sapped the colours and left him in a monochrome world. Nothing there. Nothing at all. He turned over on his side, turned the pillow over to enjoy the coolness of the underside and settled himself back down again. Taking a deep breath, he tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't. He thought he heard something from the garden and got out of bed to look out of the window to the grass below. He couldn't see anything there either, but just as he was pulling the curtains together again, he thought he saw the figure of a woman ducking behind the garden wall.

He ran from his bedroom and down the stairs, taking them two at a time and pulled open the front door. He stared out into the moonlit garden, looking around. Barefoot, he padded over the grass to look over the garden wall, but still he could find no trace of any intruder. Why could he not shake the feeling that it was the same woman he had met by the lake the previous day? Shaking his head, he went back indoors, passing the little terrier asleep in his bed. Funny, the dog didn't bark, either.

Morning came and Starsky dragged himself out of bed and round into the next room to see if Hutch needed anything. The blond was awake and Sam had already got him a cup of tea.

'Hey, Gordo, you sleep OK?' Hutch asked, noting that his partner looked a little less ragged round the edges.

'Yeah, I did. It must be all this fresh air! How are you this morning?'

'Legs fine, not too much pain. I'm gonna get up after breakfast. Looks like it's gonna be another good day' Hutch said, stretching his arms above his head and smiling.

Starsky made a decision and said. 'Stay put till I get back. I'm gonna take the dog a walk, then I'll be back to ya'.

Hutch was aghast. 'Two walks in two days? And no one to force ya? he said. 'I think you've got a secret assignation up there buddy' he laughed.

For a moment, the brunette wondered how on earth Hutch knew, then realised that was just his guilty mind at work. Plastering a hurt look on his face he responded 'She's not your type. An she doesn't go for cripples!' he ducked as Hutch threw a pair of balled up socks at him and set off down the stairs.

Dressed in a tee shirt, his cut off jeans shorts and his Adidas tennis shoes, he whistled for Bobby and together they set off back up the hill. Starsky had dreamed about the woman on and off all night, unable to forget the electrifying feel of her hands on his body. It seemed that each time she touched him, she cancelled out one of the blows that Ross had struck, wiping away the bruises and scars from his body. He couldn't make his mind up what it was about her that attracted him so much. Certainly she had an innocent quality to her, but it was more than that. It felt as thought she was his soul mate and even though after Ross, he had silently vowed that he would never get involved with another woman, for her, he might break that promise to himself.

The morning was fresh but warm and the cool air on his bare legs felt good, the long grass on the path tickling his bare skin. The dog was, as usual, full of energy, and now that the brunette knew where he was going, he made a reasonable pace up the hill and onto the plateau at the top. Still suffering a little with his cracked ribs, he panted slightly as he crested the hill, but didn't stop, wanting to get to the lake. He wanted to see if the woman was there again, although he knew logically there was no possibility.

As Bobby ran on ahead, Starsky meandered down the gentle slope and chose a spot near to where he had stopped yesterday. The woodland to his left held shadows dark in contrast with the bright green of the meadow and the slight susurration of the wind through the leaves lulled him. He sat on the ground and waited, but all he could sense was the quiet of the countryside, the bleat of some sheep a way away and the birdsong. The heron still stood on its island in the middle of the water, wings folded, seemingly mocking him. What the fuck as he doing anyway? How on earth could he expect to meet the same woman? She was probably busy cooking her husband's breakfast, or doing the washing. She certainly wouldn't be up here this early in the morning. He closed his eyes, just, for a moment, enjoying the peace. He lay down on the grass and idly let the short blades run between his fingers.

Then he heard the song. The same voice he heard yesterday. He sat up, and there she was again, dipping her bare toes in the water. Where did she come from? He hadn't seen her walking up to the lake. She turned to him and waved and he had that odd deja vue feeling. He waved back and she came towards him, that same open smile on her face.

'Hello' she said as she sat by his side

'Hello again' he responded.

'Are you alone?'

'Not any more' he laughed as she used the same line as yesterday.

'You're still sad. Do you want to tell me?'

God, she was so direct. So beguiling. What was it about her that attracted him? He'd never be so fast with anyone else, but with this stranger, he had the urge to spill his innermost secrets. And what's more she wanted to listen and she seemed to make the ache go away.

'Lie back' she said, pushing him backwards onto the grass, her voice velvety smooth. 'Relax and tell me'. She was running her hand up is leg, from ankle to knee, and he felt that same disjointedness, easing thoughts from his crowded mind. Her hand stopped at the scar on his right leg, and she circled it with her fingers. 'What's this?'

He tried to get his brain into gear and swallowed hard. 'Ah….gunshot wound, trying to escape a blazing barn'. His voice had taken on a husky quality, as if he had woken from a peaceful sleep. God her fingers felt so good.

The fingers moved up a little, always feather light in their touch, dancing across his sun warmed skin like a breeze. 'And this?' she rubbed another scar on his thigh.

He strangled down a moan. 'Knife, when I was in 'Nam'.

Her hands were at his tee shirt now, pulling at it and moving it up his chest. Without realising he'd done it, he'd helped her to pull it over his head, and he lay back letting the grass tickle his naked back. She was lying at the side of him now, propped on her elbow, playing her hands over the dark fur of his chest, making him growl low in his throat. The fingers continued their progression north and they stopped again at his left shoulder.

Without her asking he volunteered 'gunshot at an Italian restaurant'.

'So many wounds, so much pain' she whispered into his ear, low and seductive. 'And what of the rest?' her hands caressed his neck near the stitches and moved to the fading bruises across his chest and side. She leaned over and kissed the yellowing bruise over his eye as he sighed deeply.

The world was out of focus, all that existed at that moment was the woman next to him and her magic hands. Wherever she touched, his skin felt light and whole.

Summoning all his energy he muttered 'my girlfriend did them'.

'Why?'

'I don't know. She was sick and she couldn't help it'.

'Why didn't you stop her?'

Now that was the sixty four thousand dollar question, wasn't it? 'I deserved it'. Knowing he really meant it.

'Are you a bad man?'

'No, course not', his voice rose a little.

The fingers redoubled their efforts on his chest, chasing each other through the forest of hair, sending all but the most immediate thoughts away, tingles coursing though his body and into his groin. Small pleasurable electric shocks.

'Then why did you deserve it?'

'Terry died because of me'.

'I know. But did you kill her?'

'Hey, how do you know?' he asked, trying to sit up. She pushed him back down and brought her fingers up to his temples, massaging in little circles that sent shock waves through his body. Suddenly it didn't matter how she knew, only that he had to answer her.

'A man killed her to make me hurt. I didn't kill her'. There, he'd said it. I didn't kill Terry.

'Then why let others hurt you as well. Do you like it?'

'No, it hurts too much'. He gasped

'But only you can take that pain away' she whispered it in his ear, the breath from each word entering him and cleaning their way through his body. She let her hands stray down his chest, reaching beneath the waistband of his shorts.

'I don't want to hurt any more' he panted, his breathing now ragged with passion and the realisation that his salvation was in his own hands.

'Then let it go and give yourself permission to live again' she said.

Her hand was now at his groin, running her fingers through the bush of wiry hair at the base of his manhood. She took hold of him and the shock of her cool hands on that most sensitive of places left him groaning with desire. He pushed his hips up towards her as he felt her start to massage him with firm strokes up and down. He'd never experienced anything like the touch of this woman's hand and within two minutes, his body exploded in an earth shattering orgasm which left him breathless and boneless. Totally spent, he lay for a moment, savouring every feeling in his body, his breath ragged in his throat as he felt himself coming down from the peak of desire.

At last, he opened his eyes, searching her cats eyes out, so that he could hold her and make sweet tender love to her, giving her as much pleasure as she had given him.

She was gone.

Starsky looked frantically round. How could she just vanish? That was way too weird. But there was no sign of her anywhere. He stood shakily, the sexual energy taking its toll on his body. There was nothing to be seen but grass, hills, water and the little terrier dog, lying panting in the sun.

'You saw her didn't you?' Starsky asked the dog. Bobby stared back at him, ears pricked and head on one side.

'OK, I've officially lost it' the brunette said out loud, to anyone who would listen. 'I'm having sex with a woman who isn't there, I've asked a dog a question expecting an answer, and now I'm talking to myself'. He chuckled out loud, hearing his own voice echo across the moorland, carried away by the wind.

Starting to walk back down the hill he realised he felt better, lighter, brighter, as though a cloud had been lifted from his mind. How could one woman do all that for him in two short talks and some pretty amazing handling, when he'd been suffering for months with his demons? He didn't know whether it was the talk, or the sex – both were incredible – but he was damn well going to find out who this woman was, one way or the other.