DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the Starsky and Hutch franchise. THe following is for entertainment only.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is in memory of two important people in my life. Without them, I would not have the courage to explore my dreams.

To My Mother Dorothy: She died in 2009. SHe always believed in me.

To My Husband Ron: He died in 2004. He taught me to believe in myself.

Their spirits are captured in this story: My mother inspired the charater you'll meet later, Gladys Delight Hawkins.

Ron was the inspiration for the homeless boy Ronnie. He's tougher than you think!

Chapter One

AN UNEASY ALLIANCE

Like most cities, Bay City had an area of town that was in disrepair and forgotten about. This block of buildings consisted of abandoned stores and condemned apartment buildings. What once had been single family homes were now among the other dilapidated structures. The owners couldn't be found so the whole area had just been ignored rather than torn down.

For a young boy on his own, one particular place had become his refuge. He'd taken up residence in a garage behind the houses. The garage had once held at least three cars. There wasn't a door any more, since it had been removed and the metal had been sold for scrap.

The inside was decorated with a sagging couch that at one time was green and black striped. Several chairs in equal condition were scattered about. A warped book case held playing cards, tools and even a couple of books. The place was full of cob webs and dust. There wasn't much light since the buildings that surrounded it blocked out most of the sun.

Ronnie Stanton called this area home. Today he felt very lonely and almost wished he could go home. Instead, he took out a watch from an inside pocket of his jacket. This was his prized possession, the only thing he had that had belonged to his dad. He barely remembered his mother. She walked out when he was still just a kid. Dad was left to do the best he could with three children. Ronnie had another brother and a sister, both older than himself. His sister was fifteen when she ran away. They found out later that she was pregnant and eventually married the baby's father. They never saw her again. His brother Dylan had joined the army to escape. He didn't seem to care that he went to Viet Nam. They eventually heard that he had died there. Ronnie still remembered the military dude who came to the door, handed them Dylan's personal stuff and gave them a flag. From that day on his dad drank constantly. He never went to work, didn't cook or clean. By then, Ronnie had decided to run away. There was nothing for him at home, no one cared about him. He was small for his age and school had always been tough. He was picked on and the teachers never gave him any slack because of the lack of parental support.

So one night after his dad had passed out from his routine of booze, Ronnie made a decision. He took Dylan's lighter that had been returned to them and his dad's watch, stuffed clothes and money into a knap sack and walked out the door. He tried calling his dad once, but the phone had been disconnected. It wouldn't surprise him if his dad was dead.

He often wondered what it would be like to have someone who cared about him. Someday, he'd have a real family again.

He got up from the beaten up couch and paced the floor. He was restless and suddenly, his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet today.

He thought he'd try the warehouse mission today. He'd heard they were having meatloaf, which was a favorite of his.

The soup kitchen was run by nuns who wore dark colors but not the outfits Ronnie expected them to wear.

Slowly, he made his way to the food line. He kept his head down as he grabbed a tray. He slid along the line, grabbing anything that was offered. The woman, who served him the meatloaf, nodded her head and smiled.

"Bless you child." She offered the kind words but Ronnie didn't look at her. Moving on down the line, he took a helping of the little round potatoes and broccoli. Then he was given two pieces of thick bread and for desert, a piece of apple pie. He made his way through the crowded room, picking a table that wasn't as filled as all the others.

No sooner did he find a place, than an older man with a long white beard sat next to him. The man hunched forward, concentrating on his food, almost like he was afraid someone would take it from him if he didn't eat it fast enough. Then another man, very dirty and smelly, sat on the other side of Ronnie. The man had a hacking cough and wiped his mouth with his hand. He wiped his hand on his shirt, then without using the plastic utensils that sat in a cup in the middle of the table, began to eat.

Ronnie tried to ignore both men, preferring to eat in silence. Pretty soon, both men could be heard grunting in pleasure while eating the meal and had forgotten about everything but what was in front of them.

Ronnie's eyes darted around the table, noticing a plate with more bread. He reached across and grabbed two pieces and stuffed them in his pockets. His eyes searched the room, making sure no one saw him take the bread.

The meatloaf was pretty good. It was filling and Ronnie was glad to have had at least this one meal for the day. He wasn't sure when he would eat again so scraps he could pick up now, he'd save for later.

He stood up to leave and as he did so, a woman in dark clothing came to him as he made his way to the aisle.

It was the same woman who had offered him a blessing in the food line. Ronnie really wanted to get away but she stood in front of him, not giving him a chance to escape.

"I just wanted you to know that you are welcome here any time young man. God is looking out for you." She smiled at him and then moved to another table.

He shook his head and then began to leave. But something caught his attention. At another table, there was a plate with vegetables and potatoes left over but no one sat in front of the plate. No one was eating and there wasn't anyone near by. He slid over and emptied the plate into his pockets. The stuff might be cold and a little squished by the time he got them home, but it would still be good.

Then as he got near the exit, he saw a table in the corner. There was a large bowl over flowing with fruit. This was something he didn't get very often and his mouth watered as he saw the apples and oranges. He glanced around, seeing that again, no one seemed to be paying him any attention. He looked closer; wanting to make sure the nun who had spoken to him wasn't near by either. He rushed over, grabbed apples and oranges and stuffed them into the inside pockets of his coat. Quickly he ran out the door, never looking back. If he had, he would have seen the nun, Sister Barbara, standing at the door, watching. She made the sign of the cross and said a silent prayer for the boy who was in such a hurry.