My dear friends, thank you so much for your wonderful words and reviews. It makes me all fuzzy inside, hehe. So now, without further ado...

Oh - and one other thing. there are some bits of French in the story. To those fluent French speakers out there I apologise in advance. I haven't spoken French for so long I am rusty and it probably makes no sense whatsoever...sorry!

Chapter 2

Starsky scowled around the room. The bar was plain and slightly rough around the edges. There were only men in the bar, apart from the one girl serving. She seemed to stand out from the crowd, not only because of her sex but also because she was pretty in an ordinary kind of way. Starsky admitted that she wasn't striking, or even above average, but in this town of misfits, the girl looked good, with long auburn hair, a sweet heart shaped face and a slight, shapely figure. She wore a white blouse, a pair of fitted denim jeans and no make up, and yet she seemed to shine like a beacon across the room. Hutch kicked Starsky under the table.

'Eyes front soldier.'

'Huh?'

'You were doing that thing.'

Starsky raised his eyebrow. 'Thing? What thing?'

'That thing you do when you see a girl.'

'I didn't do nothin'.'

'Exactly.'

'Huh?'

'It's a double negative Starsk. "Didn't do nothin'" equates to "you did something".'

'A double...? I didn't do nothin' either time...once...the first time... I have no idea what you mean.'

Hutch shook his head. 'I know. I mean don't keep lookin' at the girl, huh?'

'You want me to make eyes at the guys?'

'Somehow I don't think that would be my first choice, no. Just eat the pretzels and let's get outa here.'

The brunet grunted and picked at one of the nibbles. In truth they did nothing to assuage his appetite but at $3.50 for the dish he was damned well gonna eat the lot! Slowly the room relaxed a little and conversation started up again as the rest of the patrons got back to drinking or eating.

The hum of the voices was a constant, cancelling out the noise of the howling wind outside but the atmosphere in the bar was anything but friendly. Even though the two cops were left alone, they had the distinct impression that they were the main topic of conversation.

Pretzels finally finished, Starsky took his time to look around. The table that they'd taken placed the brunet facing the bar whilst Hutch had his back to the majority of the room. As Starsky looked up, he was just in time to see a large man with a gut that overhung his belt swagger up to the bar and slam his hand down on it. The girl looked up and then concentrated once more on the beer she was pouring. Being ignored seemed to anger the man and he took a step towards the girl and said something to her, although over the hum of voices, Starsky couldn't make out what it was. The girl looked at the guy contemptuously and shook her head and the next moment, the huge man had reached over the bar, grabbed the girl by the blouse and hauled her across the sticky wooden bar top. He drew back his hand and slapped the girl hard across the face, the sound of the blow loud enough to make the men in the room stop their talk and look around. Surprisingly, none of them moved a muscle and instead went back to their drinks and talk as though a man beating up on the girl was the most common sight in the world. Only Starsky moved, and the brunet did so quickly, leaving Hutch momentarily stunned. With his back to the action, the blond had not seen what was going on, but he was used to his partner's reactions and a second later he too stood and whirled around, expecting trouble.

Starsky had crossed the room to the bar in two strides and as the big guy at the bar was drawing back his hand for another strike at the girl, he found his hand caught in an iron fist and looked around angrily.

Starsky stared him down. 'Don't do that. It aint gentlemanly.'

'Fuck you mister. Git back to yer city ways and' git outa the bar.'

'Not till you leave her be. Play nice, apologise to the lady and I'll go.'

There was silence in the room, but fortunately no-one moved as Starsky and the big man faced off. 'She aint no lady, she's my daughter an' you got no business interferin' in family ways.'

'I do when you're beatin' up on a girl. You gonna leave her alone?' the brunet asked evenly.

The man seemed to pause for a moment and then, just as Starsky was beginning to relax, he wrenched his hand from Starsky's fist, drew it back and launched a blow at the brunet. Starsky saw it coming and dodged the blow so that the big man's fist ploughed into the solid wood of the bar top, full force. The impact seemed to ricochet up the guy's arm and his eyes bulged in pain as he bent double, nursing the injured hand. Someone at the back of the room laughed and then quickly shut up as the guy straightened and glared at the brunet. For a moment it looked as though a full blown fist fight was about to start and Starsky was not about to back down. Hutch, however was not in the mood for battles. Pushing Starsky out of the way, the blond cop placed himself between his partner and the big guy.

'My partner's right. It's not manners to hit a girl, but I know that daughters can be...um...difficult. My partner here just wanted to make sure the girl was ok. We're leaving now. We don't want any trouble.'

Behind him, Hutch heard a snort and knew Starsky was about to open his mouth and put both feet firmly in it. The blond kicked out behind him, catching Starsky on the shin at the same time as he smiled at the big man at the bar.

'We'll be on our way now. This is us leaving. Right Starsk?'

The brunet didn't answer and Hutch looked around to see that his buddy had taken the girl off to one side and was talking earnestly to her.

Starsky looked at the blossoming bruise on the girls face and very gently traced the red and blue mark with his fingers. 'This isn't the first time is it?' he asked.

The girl looked awkward. 'He's my Pa' she said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.

'But he shouldn't be hitting you. Isn't there anyone you can tell? The Sheriff maybe?'

The girl shook her head. 'He is the Sheriff.'

'Then can't you move out? To a different town maybe. Do you have friends or relatives some other place?'

The girl shook her head. 'Look mister. It's real kind of ya to watch out fer me, but this is just how it is, ok?'

Starsky sighed. 'No, not ok. Look, if there isn't anyone around here who can help, there's a woman I know back home. Me and my buddy over there, we're cops. From California. We don't' have jurisdiction here, but this friend, she runs a woman's shelter. If you ring her, I'm sure she'll have the number of somewhere round here that can help.' Quickly Starsky took one of his cards out of his pocket and scribbled a number on the back. He held it out to the girl who paused, looked around and then took the card shyly.

'Thanks.'

'No problem. Ring her. Ok?' Starsky started to say something else but Hutch caught him by the shoulder and pushed him outside. 'Hey, I wasn't finished!'

'Yeah, you were buddy. Let's just get out, huh?'

'Out? I haven't finished my...' the brunet's words were cut off by the Sheriff and the bar tender walking over.

'I don't want no trouble in my bar.' The bartender started.

'No sir' Hutch muttered.

'Then don't go hittin' on girls huh?' Starsky snapped, his patience worn thin by the attitude of the town and the absence of food.

'Starsk...' Hutch's warning came too late as the bar tender took a step forwards. 'You causin' trouble boy?'

'No, I'm tryin' to stop it, and I'm not your boy.'

'Starsk...' Hutch muttered more urgently.

'We don't like your sort around here' the bartender continued.

'Well that aint no surprise. Gee, you don't exactly welcome folks with open arms. What is it with you people, huh?'

'Are you spoilin' for a fight boy?' the Sheriff chipped in.

'Fight? No. I'd fight back and I don't think that's your style. Is it?' Starsky's anger now bubbled to the surface and behind him Hutch took a firmer hold of his arm.

'Starsky!'

The brunet pulled his arm free just as the Sheriff tried again to strike a blow at him. Starsky ducked but his time the blow caught him on the angle of his chin. It wasn't a painful blow, but it was enough to fuel the brunet's temper and he squared off to the big Sheriff just as the bartender came at him with two other men who'd appeared as if from nowhere. Before Starsky had time even to realise that they were there, the bartender had launched another blow which caught Starsky squarely across the cheek. The two other men grabbed an arm and a leg each and lifted the brunet bodily as the bartender opened the door. As the two men threw Starsky out into the street, the bartender wiped his hands.

'You're barred' he said angrily and slammed the door closed.

The brunet landed in a puddle of mud outside the door. Fortunately, the ground was soft and he rolled onto his side as the rain pelted him with huge drops. Hutch stood just outside the door with his collar turned up against the weather. Starsky got to his feet and wiped ineffectually at his sodden jeans, immediately looking to get back into the bar and even the score.

'What're ya doin'?'

'Where were ya? You're supposed to back me up, partner' Starsky snapped.

'You seemed to have it covered' Hutch muttered mildly.

'Covered? Three onto one isn't exactly great odds.'

'Then don't go pickin' fights with the natives Gordo.'

'Just let me get back in there. I'll show 'em what a city cop can do.'

'Starsk, let it go huh? It's not worth it. We'll be out of here in the morning. Leave it be.'

Starsky grunted. 'Great partner you are. Twenty onto one and you just sit back and watch 'em beat your best friend into pulp. Nice one Hutchinson!'

'You're exaggerating again. You always were a sore loser.'

'It aint my loser that's sore' the brunet replied, rubbing at his butt cheek where he'd landed.'

'You could've landed on your head, then you wouldn't have felt a thing. No sense, no feelin' huh?'

Starsky glared at his partner and Hutch snorted.

'C'mon, let's get out the rain huh?'

Starsky stared sullenly. 'Where?'

'I saw a Seven Eleven back there. What say we buy beers and head back to the motel?'

'No drink in the rooms.'

'Fine, so we drink in the car.' Hutch started to trot off up the road. Starsky seemed to consider the idea. The wind seemed to have doubled in strength and with it the rain. Starsky's temper was still bubbling and his hip hurt where he'd landed. His body wasn't hurt as much as his pride and drinks were definitely needed, but food was needed too. The brunet paused.

'And cookies? Do we get cookies?' Starsky asked as he started to run after his partner.

The following morning the rain had eased back so that it was nothing more than a fine mist hanging from the boughs of the trees and making the green of the wooded areas take on a more muted, grey colour. The sky seemed to blend in with the trees, a lighter shade of grey against the dark shadows and once more the heat was back. With the heat came the damp, cloying smell of the swamp lands. It was almost a prehistoric smell, dank and earthy and it pervaded the small motel room and left the two cops feeling hot and trapped.

With no food for breakfast, Hutch quickly got together the few things they'd brought in from the car with them. Neither man had bothered to undress to get into bed, not wishing to chance the grey creased sheets and now, desperate for a meal, they made their way out and back to the reception shack to check out.

The same woman as yesterday wandered out from the back room, wearing the same skirt and blouse as she had on the previous day. She stood by the cash register looking expectantly and as Hutch handed over the money she glared at him.

'Another $20.'

'Huh? The sign says rooms $10 a night. There's your $10.'

'I said no drinks in the rooms. You got beer. That's another $20.'

'But...' Hutch started to argue.

'"Starsk, let it go huh? It isn't worth it. We'll be out of here in the morning. Leave it be."' Starsky mimicked his partner's voice quietly and earned himself an elbow in the ribs. Hutch looked back at the woman, and started to argue. Starsky sighed.

'See ya outside' he muttered and closed the door quietly behind him.

The woman continued to glare at Hutch who aimed for reasonable but missed and achieved only angry. He started to argue again.

Outside, Starsky climbed into the car and turned the key expecting he throaty roar of the Buick's engine. There was silence and with a curse he tried again, flooring the gas pedal a couple of times to prime the engine. Again nothing happened and with the feeling that rain from the storm had somehow gummed up the works, the brunet got out of the car and popped the hood. Hutch came out of the reception shack a moment later, his pocket lighter by $30 and joined his partner as Starsky bent over the engine.

'Problems?'

'Damned thing won't start.'

'Can you fix it?'

In reply there was a muffled cursing and a general banging of car parts from beneath the hood. Hutch straightened, knowing that getting in his buddy's way would only infuriate the brunet. He looked up, sighed and nudged Starsky in the ribs.

'We have company' the blond said quietly.

'Huh?'

'Starsk...'

Starsky eased himself from under the hood and stood up just as the Sheriff and three other men swaggered up the parking lot towards them. The big man was in full uniform this morning, his shiny badge catching the first glints of the sun burning through the mist. His buff coloured shirt already showed the signs of the heat to come with dark, wet circles at his armpits. A matching line of sweat decorated the front of the shirt which stretched alarmingly over his huge belly. Behind him, a slightly smaller, much younger man with the same buck teeth also wore a Sheriff's department uniform and he was accompanied by two men in jeans and shirts.

As the posse neared the two Californian cops, the Sheriff smiled wolfishly. 'Well, well. We've caught ourselves the culprit boys. Looky here. This is the skinny little runt who raped my daughter Mary Lou last night.'