In Starsky's opinion, Hutch was back at work too soon. It was only two weeks since he'd been shot in the shoulder. The doctor had signed Hutch off for another week, but the detective had been restless and wanted to get back to work. Dobey (after much arguing) had been persuaded to let Hutch come back in. He had insisted his injured detective only did desk duty, but Starsky could see that even that was too much. Hutch was both exhausted and uncomfortable by the end of his first day.

And today, Hutch actually looked worse not better but Starsky didn't comment on it. His friend was being pig-headed and liable to react angrily if Starsky tried to mother-hen him, claiming he was perfectly all right. Yeah, right, in a pig's eye!

So instead, when Starsky wasn't out on call with two other detectives, he brought Hutch coffees, grabbed him food from the cafeteria to save his partner having to make the trip himself and even brought him a brown bag of grapes and apples, which he picked up at a little market he passed by on the way back into the squad room. Hutch thanked him more or less politely in between grimaces of pain.

Towards end of shift, Starsky came back and paused just outside the empty squad room – empty except for his partner - and noted the way his friend was slumped in his chair and leaning awkwardly to one side as if he couldn't get comfortable. He sighed. Then he made a big noise about coming through the doors, giving Hutch time to sit upright and pretend to be pain free.

What was it with his partner and letting himself admit when he was hurting? Actually, maybe they were both guilty of doing that. Have a cold or a pulled muscle, they both moaned and tried to get people to feel sorry for them. Get shot and it was back to work – a 'business as usual, the bad guys can't stop me attitude' being relentlessly exhibited.

Stupid really. Starsky figured it was time they both rethought the way they handled next level injuries.

"Hey pal, you ready to go home? I am. It's been a long day."

"Hmm…at least you've been outside the office." Hutch shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I've been bored out of my brains here. How long do you reckon Dobey's going to keep me on desk duty?"

Starsky bit back his first response, which was to tell Hutch he didn't think he should be in work at all. Instead he said, "Soon partner, I'm sure, but he can't really go against medical advice, can he?"

"Humph," was the disgruntled reaction.

"So let's get out of here. Want me to take you straight home? Or do you want a break from being stuck inside all day?"

Hutch's face brightened considerably. "A walk would be good."

Starsky nodded. "Okay. Where d'ya wanna stretch your legs? Beach or park?"

As Hutch stood up carefully and eased his sore shoulder into his jacket, he considered the question. "Park, I think."

Starsky nodded. "Okay, park it is. Let's go."

Hutch slowly walked out of the squad room, trying to hide the small hisses of pain as a result of jostling his shoulder with every step. Starsky sighed and followed him at a discreet distance.

Once there were at the park, Starsky made sure they headed along the path that he knew had lots of benches dotted along it. After a few short minutes, he managed to persuade his partner that it was time for a rest and ice cream. Barely protesting, Hutch gingerly lowered himself onto the bench and, as soon as Starsky was out of earshot, sighed with audible relief. One-handed he managed to pull a strip of Tylenol out of his pocket, pop two pills from the packet and chomp them down dry before Starsky came back. He wished he had some water but it was too late to ask Starsky to get him some.

A couple of minutes later, he was surprised but pleased to see his partner walk back, juggling two vanilla ice creams and a bottle of water.

"Here, figured you might need this to wash down your pills."

"How did you-?"

"-Telepathy!"

Hutch swigged the water gratefully and then took the proffered ice cream. The two of them licked their frozen desserts in companionable silence and people-watched for a while as families came and went through the park.

When Starsky was nearly finished, he asked, "Hutch? Don't you think it's about time to admit that we feel pain?!

"I'm not in pain. What are you talking about?"

Starsky sighed. "You are in pain and it's okay to say you are. Pain is good and it's the body's way of letting you know it needs to heal or that you're doing too much." Hutch started to protest but Starsky interrupted. "I'm talking to both of us here. At what point did we decide that it's okay to moan our heads off about the common cold but it's not okay to say it hurts when we've been shot? I mean, think about it, that's crazy! Even for us!"

Hutch finished his ice cream and threw the remains of the cone and napkin into the nearby trash can. He almost shrugged but remembered just in time. He sighed instead.

"What do you want me to say, Starsky?"

"I want you to stop pretending you're okay when you're not and tell me you're in pain if you are…I promise to do the same. No more of this tough as nails crap. Okay?"

Hutch looked away and then turned back. "Okay."

"And?" Starsky prompted.

"And my shoulder is killing me, it's been getting steadily worse all day…Maybe I should have stayed at home another day."

"Finally! I could have told ya that this morning! Wanna go home?"

"Yes."

Starsky nodded and offered his friend a gentle hand to pull him to his feet. "Hopefully, those pills will kick in soon. Want me to make you dinner tonight? Then I'll leave you to rest."

"That would be good. Thanks, Starsk."

"No problem and, pal, stay at home tomorrow if you don't feel any better. Okay? I will survive one day without you."

Hutch grimaced. "You're bound to get yourself into all sorts of trouble if I'm not there!…but I promise I'll stay home if I don't feel any better."

"Great!" Starsky said enthusiastically and, momentarily forgetting what ailed his partner, he slapped him on the shoulder.

"Ouch!"

"Oops, sorry!"

Through gritted teeth, Hutch muttered, "With friends like you…"

"I said I was sorry! I'll make it up to you, I promise! I'll cook you a great dinner."

"Great? It had better be spectacular!"