CHAPTER SIX
Things were just getting warmed up between Hutch and the leggy brunette stewardess when they were distracted by the ringing of the telephone.
"Let it ring, baby…" Sandy cooed, nuzzling the side of his neck suggestively as her hands fumbled with his belt.
"I have to answer it," Hutch reminded her. "It could be work." He reached out a long arm and grabbed the receiver.
Sandy sighed and leaned back against the sofa with a pout. She had a feeling her plans for the evening were about to be interrupted
"This better be important," Hutch growled into the phone.
"Hutch? It's Huggy," the familiar voice drawled in his ear. "You might want to come and get Curly. He's in no condition to drive, if you catch my drift."
"How long has he been there?" Hutch asked, concern for his wayward partner cooling his ardor.
"About three hours, and Anita said he's been drinking the hard stuff for the last two. I just got here myself or I would have called you sooner."
"Don't let him go anywhere. I'm on my way."
"Don't worry. I got his keys, he ain't going anywhere," Huggy told him with a chuckle. "He handed 'em over like a good boy as soon as he saw me."
Hutch smiled faintly as he hung up the phone. He was grateful for a friend like Huggy. Both men knew that the black bartender would watch out for them if they had too much to drink. That was one of the reasons they usually did their drinking at The Pits.
"I have to go." he apologized to Sandy, as he pushed himself to his feet, quickly buttoning the front of his shirt. He pulled some loose bills out of his pocket and handed them to her. "There's the money for a cab. Just make sure and lock the door when you leave."
"Gee, thanks," Sandy said sarcastically, her dissatisfaction with the evening obvious in the tone of her voice.
Ignoring her, Hutch grabbed his jacket and slipped it on, digging his keys out of his jeans as he headed out the door. He was relieved when his temperamental clunker started on the first try. Usually he had to coax the engine to get it to turn over, especially when it was cold.
Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling up in front of the Pits. As he climbed out of his car, he saw Starsky's car parked in the alley beside the bar. He also saw a couple leaning against the brick wall of the building, locked in a passionate embrace. The big blonde immediately recognized the headful of dark curls and the lean, muscular build of his partner. As he turned in that direction, he also recognized the woman who was rubbing up against him suggestively. Her name was Chrissy and she was one of the local hookers.
"Hey, buddy," Hutch said quietly, as he stepped up behind his friend and reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing out here?"
"Hey!" Chrissy protested the interruption. "Why don't you mind your own business? Unless you wanna pay extra for a threesome."
"Hey, Hutch!" Starsky said with a drunken grin, as he looked over his shoulder. "What are you doing here?"
"Huggy called me to give you a ride home."
"Don't wanna go home," Starsky declared with a pout. He turned his attention back to the woman he had backed up against the wall. He leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck. "Wanna stay here and have some fun for a change…"
Hutch sighed and dug a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket. He slipped it down the front of Chrissy's blouse. "Split," he ordered "I got it from here."
Chrissy untangled herself from Starsky's amorous embrace and straightened her clothes. "Fucking fags…" she muttered under her breath as she turned and strolled away, "Couldn't get it up for a real woman even if they tried."
Ignoring the hooker's sarcastic remark, Hutch took Starsky's arm and guided him back into the bar. The brunet balked, still pouting at his partner. "Your timing sucks, Blondie…" he slurred as he stumbled, leaning heavily against Hutch until he recovered his balance "I was just about to get me some."
"What you were just about to get was relieved of whatever money you have left," Hutch told him dryly as he steered him into the main part of the bar. Huggy was busy tending bar, but when he saw the two detectives he nodded at one of his waitresses to take over. When she relieved him of his duties, he walked over to Hutch and said, "Man, am I glad to see you. He is wasted." He ran his gaze over Starsky who was leaning against Hutch with his eyes half closed. Hutch had his arm wrapped tightly around the brunet's waist to keep him on his feet.
"I found him out back with Chrissy," Hutch said. "I told her to split."
"Shit," Huggy said with a scowl. "I saw her in here and ran her out. I don't need the likes of her hanging around and bothering my customers." He looked at the big blond apologetically. "Curly must have slipped outside while I was busy."
"No harm done," Hutch said with a thin smile. "Thanks for calling me. I'm gonna take him back to my place so he can sleep it off."
"You gonna call his ball and chain and let her know where he is?" Huggy said with a snort.
"No, I doubt if she'd even give a fuck," Hutch said sourly. "She's probably the reason he's in this condition anyway."
"Man, that bitch really has him fucked up," Huggy said with a shake of his head.
"Tell me about it," Hutch said grimly. "Thanks again for calling. Keep an eye on his car. We'll pick it up tomorrow."
"You know I will," Huggy said with a grin. "I let anything happen to his 'baby' and he'll have my hide." The tall, thin black man watched as Hutch helped Starsky through the crowd and out the front door. Sighing heavily, he returned to his duties behind the bar.
Hutch managed to get Starsky into the front seat before the brunet passed out entirely. Closing the door gently, he crossed to the driver's side and slid in beneath the wheel. Starsky was slumped in the seat, his head resting against the glass on the passenger's side, snoring softly. Hutch put the key in the ignition and coaxed the engine to life. With a heavy sigh, he headed back towards his own apartment.
When he reached Venice Place, he managed to arouse the intoxicated brunet enough to get him out of the car and across the sidewalk to the entrance of the enclosed stairway that led to Hutch's upstairs apartment. Realizing that Starsky was too drunk to manage the steps on his own, Hutch lifted him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and started up the steps.
"Hey," Starsky complained in a slurred voice, one hand reaching down to clutch at Hutch's belt tightly. "Why's everything upside down?"
"Because you're upside down, mushbrain," Hutch said as he laboriously climbed the steps, grunting under Starsky's added weight. Reaching the landing, he managed to unlock his apartment door and get inside, before unceremoniously dumping Starsky on the sofa with a groan.
"Ohhhhh," Starsky said with a groan of his own, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "Why's the room spinning so fast?"
"Because you're wasted, that's why." Hutch grumbled as he went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Behind him, he heard Starsky scramble to his feet, followed by the slamming of the bathroom door. Through the thin wooden panel he heard the unmistakable sound of retching. With a smirk on his lips, Hutch finished making the coffee, and then went to check on his inebriated friend.
He found Starsky sprawled on the floor with his back against the tub and his legs stretched out in front of him. The sour smell of vomit hung in the air. Hutch grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cold water. Kneeling beside his friend, he gently bathed the smaller man's face and neck with the wet cloth.
"How ya doing?" he asked quietly as he tended to his friend with loving care.
"Ohhh, Hu'sh…" Starsky moaned pitifully. "I don't feel so good…"
"I wonder why," Hutch snorted, as he tossed the washrag in the general direction of the hamper.
Gripping the brunet under the arms, he rose to his feet, pulling Starsky up with him. Starsky's face blanched and he swayed unsteadily as Hutch slipped one arm around his waist and helped him back into the living room. Easing him down onto the sofa, Hutch went into the kitchen to pour him a cup of hot, strong coffee. Opening one of the cabinets, he took out a bottle of aspirin and popped the top, shaking four of the white tablets out into the palm of his hand. Filling a glass with water, he carefully carried the water and the coffee back over to the sofa, sitting his burden down on the coffee table.
"Take these," he instructed Starsky, handing him the aspirins and the water. "Then you can have some coffee…if you think you can keep it down."
Starsky took the pills and put them in his mouth, taking a long swallow of the water to wash them down. He still looked a bit green, but better then he did before. Hutch sat down on the sofa beside him and handed him the cup of coffee. "Careful, it's hot," he warned him as Starsky gently wrapped his fingers around the cup.
Hutch eyed his friend with a practiced eye. "What happened this time?" he asked in a concerned voice. Starsky rarely drank anything stronger than beer, and when he did, there was usually a reason. Not that Jessica didn't give him a reason to drink.
"Same old shit," Starsky mumbled, as he took a cautious sip of the coffee. He made a face at the bitter taste and set the cup back down on the coffee table. "She's still on my case about moving back to New York. I just had to get out of there, ya know?"
"I'll get some blankets and pillows," Hutch said. "Why don't you lie down and sleep it off? We can talk more in the morning."
He pushed himself to his feet and went into his bedroom to get the extra bedding. By the time he returned, Starsky was already lying face down on the sofa, sleeping soundly. With a fond smile, Hutch eased a pillow under his head and covered him with the blanket. With a yawn of his own, he headed back to his own bed to get a few hours sleep.