Not That Sick
When Starsky started coughing at his desk on Monday afternoon, Hutch decided his partner was trying to set the scene for taking a day off work on either Friday or the following Monday. He figured that one of Starsky's air hostess friends was going to be in town for the weekend and Starsky was hoping to add a day onto his time off.
The reason that Hutch even considered this uncharitable thought was because only three weeks ago, Starsky had pretended that he wasn't fully recovered from the poisoning by Professor Jennings. On that first day back at work, symptoms had been faked to try to wangle a week's vacation from Dobey for a special holiday deal put together by Huggy. So understandably, Hutch was less than sympathetic as Starsky intermittently coughed his way through Monday and again during Tuesday.
On Wednesday, Starsky complained of a headache and said that he thought he might be coming down with a cold. Hutch passed him some Tylenol and a box of tissues. He kept half an eye on his partner for the rest of the day, still not sure whether he was being conned or not.
Thursday morning, he waited for Starsky to arrive. He was late, but that was not that unusual. When Starsky finally turned up, he used the horn to get Hutch's attention rather than coming in. Hutch bit back an angry reprimand for his partner's tardiness as he looked him over and decided his skin tone wasn't right.
"And are those beads of sweat appearing?" he thought. Out loud, he asked, "Hey, are you feeling okay?"
Starsky coughed and shook his head as he pulled the car out into the light stream of traffic heading towards the city centre.
After a moment, Starsky quietly admitted, "Feel kinda rough, actually."
"Why didn't you call in sick?" Hutch asked, all annoyance and suspicion now overwhelmed by concern.
"Think I've used all my sick leave up. 'Sides it's just a cold. I'm taking stuff for it. I even bought some oranges on the way home last night. I had two for breakfast. The Tylenol will kick in soon."
Before they got to the precinct, they were radioed with a job and the day was underway. Hutch kept a close eye on his partner. As the morning went on, he could see that his energy levels were depleting rapidly.
When lunchtime arrived, Starsky halfheartedly ate the burrito he'd ordered and left most of it untouched. Hutch reached for the radio mic.
"Mildred, Zebra Three here. Show us off duty. Starsky's not well. I'm going to get him checked out."
Starsky raised an eyebrow as Mildred acknowledged the call.
"Hey Hutch, I ain't that sick."
Hutch shook his head as he said, "I think you should get checked out by Dr Franklin. It's not that long since you fully recovered from the poisoning. What if this is more than a cold?"
Starsky smiled reassuringly. "I think you're overreacting, but maybe I could do with going home and resting...I am tired."
"Humour me. You're not hungry, which is unheard of, you've got no energy, you've been coughing, you've had a headache and I'm sure you sound a bit raspy. Dr Franklin will know if these symptoms are a sign of something more dangerous."
Starsky frowned, about to argue, then sighed as the memory of last month's poisoning and the difficulty he had had breathing returned to mind.
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe you're right...just to be on the safe side."
"Want me to drive?"
"I ain't that sick!"
They both chuckled.
Starsky drove to the hospital and parked up then the two of them went in and asked to see Dr Franklin, explaining the circumstances and the doctor's specialist knowledge. They were told to take a seat in the waiting room.
Less than half an hour later, Starsky was called into an examination room. Dr Franklin smiled when he saw him.
"It's good to see you, Detective Starsky."
"You too, Doc...I guess...You know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean. What seems to be the trouble?"
"It's probably nothing, just a cold, but Hutch thought I ought to get checked out."
"Well, you let me be the judge of that. There's no reason to expect a flare up of symptoms from that poison but it may have left you a little susceptible to some respiratory problems."
Dr Franklin proceeded to run various tests, ordered an x-ray and then sent him back to the waiting room.
"Well?" Hutch demanded.
Starsky shrugged. "Don't know yet. Waiting for results."
Hutch went and got them both coffee. When Dr Franklin returned and called Starsky through to an examination room, Hutch went with him. Dr Franklin was unphased, expecting nothing less than full support from the detective for his partner. He could see the anxiety hiding beneath the surface of Hutchinson's face.
"Nothing to panic over," he said quickly, then went on: "But it was good you came in. Detective Starsky you have the beginnings of pneumonia but antibiotics and plenty of fluids and rest and you will be better in no time."
Both detectives looked relieved.
"Thanks Doc."
"You're welcome and it's good to see you otherwise looking so well. I've sent the scrip through to the hospital pharmacy. You can go collect the antibiotics and get started on them right away."
As they stood, Hutch frowned slightly. He asked, "If I'd brought him in yesterday, would it have been better."
"Not necessarily," Dr Franklin replied. "The pneumonia might not have been showing so clearly. It is really in the very early stages. Goodbye Detectives." With a smile, he added, "Hope not to see you for a good long while!"
As they left the room, Starsky asked, "What was that about?"
"What?"
"Your question and the sigh of guilty relief."
Hutch rubbed a hand over his face.
"It's just...earlier in the week, I thought you might be faking so you could get some time off. I'm sorry for thinking that."
Starsky grinned ruefully. "You had reason to. Hey, look, I wouldn't have come in if you hadn't made me then I might have gotten really sick. You did good, partner."
Hutch nodded. The two of them went and collected the pills and the headed out to the Torino.
"Want me to drive, Gordo?"
"Still not that sick, Blintz!"