Kiss It Goodbye
Kiss It Goodbye
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Kiss It Goodbye By Mystic Whim
“So, you guys were on stakeout for the past three weeks?” the voluptuous waitress inquired as she leaned suggestively over the table with Hutch’s drink. “I wondered where you two went. Thought maybe you found a new bar to hang out at.” “Yeah,” Hutch grumbled, as he happily took in the view of her ample cleavage. “Three long weeks locked up in the same hotel room with this guy, and he’s not even a good kisser,” he joked. “Now that I’d like to see for myself,” the barmaid giggled, casting a wink at Starsky. She was rewarded with a sparkling grin from the kisser in question before she left to serve other tables. Starsky’s grin faded the instant she was gone. “Whaddya tellin’ her that for?” he demanded. “I kiss just fine, thank you very much. Never had a complaint yet.” Hutch gave him a condescending smile as he reveled in the other’s irritation. “Suuuure, not to your face.” Starsky smacked his beer glass on the table. “I don’t know where you get these ideas from, pal. This isn’t the first time you’ve hassled me about my kissing skills. I’ll have you know I’m a damn good kisser.” “Yeah, I’ll bet,” Hutch razzed. “Probably good in bed, too.” He rolled his eyes for good measure. The dark look on his friend’s face only served to amuse him further. “I’ll take your word for it. But I’ll bet you ten bucks the waitress gives me her phone number.” “Her name is Kelly, and if she gives you her phone number, then the two of you deserve each other,” Starsky groused. By the end of the evening, Hutch was waving the prized phone number in Starsky’s face, but in his enthusiasm to win the girl’s number, he failed to notice that the other man was no longer in pursuit of the same reward. His accomplishment soon lost its appeal when he realized that Starsky seemed angry. “Starsk, you’re not mad, are you?” “I’m just tired. I’m gonna head home,” the other man muttered. “Hey, I didn’t know she meant anything to you.” He slid the paper over to his friend. “I won’t call her if you’re interested.” Starsky downed the last of his beer and roughly shoved the paper back to Hutch. “Keep it.” He got up and headed for the door. “Starsky…” Hutch called after him. “Swing by and pick me up on your way in tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.
~*~
The following morning, Starsky’s mood had not improved, and he remained surly the rest of the day. Hutch brought up Kelly at one point, sure that his friend’s interest in the girl was behind his funk, but he was readily dismissed. “I’m not interested in her, Hutch. Go out with her, if ya wanna.” Baffled, Hutch shrugged off his friend’s moodiness and took him at his word.
~*~
Yet the mood lingered. After a few days, Hutch was getting exasperated. Starsky was definitely not himself. He was quiet, crabby and distant. Ready to get to the bottom of the matter, he decided to confront his partner that night. They were not scheduled to work for the next three days, and both men should have been in good spirits. He picked up a twelve pack and a large ‘kitchen sink’ pizza, and showed up on Starsky’s doorstep. “Pino said he’s calling this his Starsky Special now,” Hutch needled, waving the aromatic box under his friend’s nose. Rising to the bait, Starsky gladly took the box and the beverages. The two made short work of the food, and were making a hearty dent in the beer. Finally, they were joking and getting along better than they had for the past few days. Neither man was drunk, but the good food, good company and cold beer had them both in much better spirits. “You still sore at me about Kelly?” Hutch asked. Starsky looked frustrated and shook his head. “Never was.” “Bullshit.” “I’m serious, Hutch. I never was.” He took another swig of his beer and raised his glass. “I’ll drink to ya both when I’m best man at your wedding.” Hutch snorted. “That’s a long shot.” Determined not to get side tracked, he tried again. “Why were you pissed at me, then?” Starsky had grown serious. He looked down at his beer as if the label held some important message for him. “It’s nothing.” “Come on, Starsk,” Hutch coaxed, “you’ve been pissy for the last three days. Must be something.” Sighing heavily, Starsky admitted, “It ticks me off when you tell people I’m a lousy kisser.” Laughing, Hutch looked at Starsky. The look on his friend’s face shut him up quickly. “You’re not serious?” Starsky got up and walked to the kitchen. “Tol’ ya it was nothin’,” he mumbled under his breath. Hutch jumped up and followed his friend into the kitchen. “This really bothers you?” Starsky faced him. “Yeah, it really bothers me. I don’t like it.” “I tease you about stuff like that all the time. Why is this bugging you so much?” “’Cause you believe it.” Starsky faced him defiantly. “You mean it.” Unable to completely deny the accusation, Hutch tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sure you kiss just fine, Starsky. You shouldn’t let this get to you.” “Don’t patronize me, Hutch.” “Come on! This is ridiculous…” Hutch regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. Starsky rounded on him, anger blazing in his eyes. “I happen to be a good kisser! You’re making fun of something you know nothin’ about! I take pride in how I romance my partners. I’m good at it. And I can prove it.” “Okay, okay!” Hutch held his hands up in conciliation. “I believe you.” “Don’t tell me you believe me when you don’t! You think you’re a better kisser than me.” Hutch could no longer suppress his grin. “Well, it’d be hard to beat perfection here, Gordo.” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, glowing with pride. Hands on his hips, head cocked to one side, Starsky asked, “What makes you think I’m not as good as you?” “I think my reputation speaks for itself,” he replied cockily. “The only thing your reputation says to me is that you’re full of shit.” “Okay then, big shot,” Hutch challenged, “how do you propose proving it? You want to call some gal in here to rate our kisses? I don’t know about you, but any girl that’d be willing to do that is not one I’m likely to give a lot of credibility to.” “Or she’d be biased,” Starsky agreed. Lost in thought for a moment, a naughty smile broke across Starsky’s face. Just witnessing the grin on his friend’s face caused Hutch to smile, too. “What? You think of something?” “Why don’t I just kiss you?” Starsky suggested, his eyes dancing mischievously. “I trust you. You may be a conceited bastard, but you’re an honest one. If I kiss good, you’d admit it, wouldn’t ya?” Hutch laughed, and considered the question. “Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’d be honest with you.” Then he shook his head. “But you’d never do it.” He took his beer and returned to the living room, taking his seat on the couch. Starsky followed, and stood before him. “Why not?” “You’d never kiss a man,” Hutch shrugged. The grin was back. “I’d kiss you.” Hutch looked affronted. “What’sa matter, Hutchinson? Think I haven’t got the balls to kiss you?” Hutch reached over and placed his drink on the coffee table. He opened his arms wide, leaning back against the couch and looked to Starsky with glowing blue eyes. “Okay, Starsk. Gimme all ya got.” He really didn’t believe Starsky would go though with it. To his surprise, Starsky grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. He caressed Hutch’s cheek, letting his hand drift into the soft blond hair, and pulled him closer to kiss him. Just before their lips touched, Hutch started to chuckle. “Go ahead and laugh now, Hutch.” Starsky whispered the words against his partner’s lips, his breath gently caressing Hutch’s mouth. (kiss) “I’m gonna steal (kiss) your laughter (kiss) with my kisses.” (kiss) His kisses were light and tender at first, warm and teasing, and they did exactly as promised. Hutch soon forgot his nervous laughter, and began to respond to the affection being shown him. He noted the clean, warm, musky scent of Starsky, the smell of familiarity and comfort. He felt the strength and tenderness in the hands caressing his face and his body. He closed his eyes and felt his face sprinkled with little kisses, his cheek lovingly stroked. Starsky’s actions were soft and disarming, harmlessly chasing away the awkwardness he felt. Hutch sighed peacefully, and the sound encouraged Starsky to become a bit bolder. He slid his nose ever so lightly against Hutch’s ear, so lightly that it tickled, just before he repeated the action with his tongue. Hutch felt a flush of goose bumps cascade down his flesh, sparked by the hot, wet tongue dipping into and teasing at his ear. The breath against his ear was changing the hot wetness to a cool chill, focusing his attention, delighting his senses. He turned his head to say something, to stop Starsky from continuing, but when he turned, Starsky captured his lips again, silencing him with a kiss. Finally their tongues met, dancing against each other, one moment competing, one moment caressing, constantly moving and feeling and expressing. Hutch’s hands closed tighter on Starsky; unconsciously gripping him firmly, fully lured into their encounter now, a willing and enthusiastic participant. Sensing his surrender, Starsky responded with passion. He deepened his kisses, held Hutch tighter in his embrace. No longer did he hold back, but gave of himself fully. Hutch responded in kind. No longer able to keep his hands still, he roamed his hands across Starsky’s body, feeling the flesh heat beneath his touch, running his thumb across the firm muscles that defined Starsky’s arms and shoulders, feeling the soft curls graze his fingertips, enjoying the long stroke down his partner’s graceful back. Stepping closer into Hutch, Starsky pressed their bodies firmly together, an unbroken connection from thighs to chests. Hutch wrapped his arms tightly around Starsky, lost in the heat of their bodies and the intensity of their kisses. When Starsky shifted slightly, his erection collided with Hutch’s, sending a shock of pleasure through them both. Hutch gasped, a pleasured sound escaping his lips, and his whole body shook with an excited tremor. Pulling back slightly, Starsky eased his intense hold on his partner. Hutch let his head fall back with a shaky breath, eyes closed, face cast heavenward. “Starsky…” he began breathlessly. He needed to end this now. Upon hearing Hutch call out his name in what he thought was desire, Starsky dropped to his knees and reached for Hutch’s waistband to unfasten his jeans. The actions set off alarms in Hutch, who grasped Starsky by the wrists and shouted, “Starsky, no!” He yanked Starsky to his feet, drawing back an arm in preparation to strike his friend in anger. Confused by the look he saw on Starsky’s face, his initial anger fizzled somewhat and he let his arm drop. “Damn it! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He shoved Starsky roughly away from him. Starsky stumbled backwards and tripped over the table leg, falling to the floor. He did not rise, nor did he meet Hutch’s furious stare. He watched his partner grab his jacket and flee the apartment, violently slamming the door as he left. Hutch got into his car and slammed that door as well. He dragged shaky hands over his face, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Just as he turned the ignition, Starsky slid into the passenger side and shut his door. “Get out of my car!” “No.” “Starsky!” “Look, Hutch, I’m sorry. I got carried away…” “Carried away?! Is that what you call it?!” He shook his head in disbelief.. “No. This whole night has been carried away. The kissing was carried away. But this! This goes way beyond carried away, pal. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were about to give me a blow job in there, weren’t you?” “Yeah,” Starsky admitted quietly. “What the hell’s the matter with you?! Are you really that vain? You have to seduce me to prove yourself?” “It’s not like that, Hutch—” “’Cause let me tell you buddy,” Hutch continued, ignoring the interruption, “you don’t have to go that far! You were right, all right! I take it back; you’re good. You’re a good kisser; you’re good at seduction! Feel better? Damn! I can’t believe you!” “Hutch!” “Don’t ever pull that crap on me again, buddy boy, or next time I really will deck you! I should have! I should have knocked you on your goddamned ass.” “This wasn’t about proving myself…” Starsky began quietly. “Then what the fuck is going on, Starsky? Explain this to me!” A moment of silence lapsed before Starsky continued. “I got carried away because I’m attracted to ya. That’s what this is all about.” “What?!” “When you insulted my kissing in the bar, it bothered me. I didn’t want you thinking of me like that. I couldn’t handle that the one person I wanted thought I was a lousy kisser, thought I was lousy in bed. I can handle that you don’t want me ‘cause I’m a guy, but I couldn’t handle you making fun of my bedroom skills. It wasn’t my vanity that was hurt, it was just me.” “What the hell do you mean you’re attracted to me? You trying to tell me you’re gay?” “Not gay. Bi.” “What?” “Bi. Bisexual. AC/DC. I like guys and dolls…” “I know what the hell it means!” Hutch roared. He tried to absorb this new information, but his mind was racing. He tried to understand. “How long have you felt this way about me?” Starsky sighed. “Nineteen-seventy-one.” Hutch’s jaw dropped. He stared at him in shock. “You’ve been attracted to me since 1971?” My God, we were kids, we were in the Academy, I was married… All this time? “No,” came the soft reply. “I’ve been in love with you since 1971. I’ve been attracted to you since I met you.” “Oh for…!” Hutch dropped his face into his hands. He shook his head in denial. “This can’t be happening. This doesn’t even make sense! What about that whole thing with John Blaine, huh? What was that? An act?” “Whaddya mean?” “Come on, Starsk! You acted all freaked out to find out he was gay. You were upset!” “I wasn’t upset he was gay! I was upset he lied to me, never told me. All these years I had no one I could talk to about how I felt, no one who would accept me. Here he was, gay the whole time, and I never knew! It would have been nice to have someone to be open with, to accept me. And here he was in front of me the whole time, and he hid it! Plus, I was upset he lied to Maggie. That was just wrong. She was his wife…” “Will you listen to yourself?” Hutch demanded. “You’re upset that he lied to everyone close to him. That you would have accepted him if he had opened up, but he never gave you the chance. That lying and covering up was wrong! You fucking hypocrite!” Starsky fell silent. His head dropped and closed his eyes to the onslaught of Hutch’s words. “You’ve got some nerve criticizing Johnny when you did exactly the same thing! You’ve lied to me since the day I met you! You never gave me a chance to accept you! You decided upfront I never would, and you lied. You’re right, Starsky, it’s wrong! I don’t even know you! I don’t know who the hell you are! And how the hell do you expect me to trust you now?!” Slowly, Starsky raised his head and looked into Hutch’s blazing eyes. His own eyes were shining, burning with a wetness he refused to allow. He was crushed. He couldn’t deny Hutch’s accusations, and he knew first hand how it felt to find out your friend had deceived you. It was too late to fix now, the damage had already been done, the trust destroyed. Starsky whispered a choked, “I’m sorry,” and got out of the car. Hutch tore out of the parking lot, leaving a shattered friend behind.
~*~
A few nights later, the night before the pair was to return to work, Hutch tried to call Starsky. He had calmed down considerably since their falling out, and wanted to talk to him and smooth things over. While he was still angry at being lied to, he did understand the fear that spawned the lie, and he could forgive that. He could even forgive Starsky’s lustful advances, knowing that in his ignorance, Hutch himself did nothing to discourage it and may have encouraged it. However, his friend was not answering his phone. He drove over to Starsky’s apartment, but the Torino was not there. He would probably have to wait to talk to him after they got to work.
~*~
But his partner did not show up at work. As soon as he arrived, Hutch discovered that Starsky had opted to take an unscheduled leave of absence. Dobey was angry as well as mystified, and turned to Hutch for an explanation. Hutch claimed to know nothing about it, and slipped off as soon as he was able, to try to find his partner. The familiar Torino was still not in its usual parking spot, but Hutch was not deterred. This time, he opted to use his spare key to the apartment when his knocks went unanswered. When he opened the door, he froze in his tracks. Starsky’s apartment was completely empty. Hutch was paralyzed with shock and confusion. Trying to shake off his initial reaction, he aimlessly wandered around the apartment, seeking some kind of clue as to what had become of his partner. There were no notes, no clues, nothing. It was as if Starsky had never been here. This had happened to him once before, when Van had left him. But Van had left a note, a closure, a finality that he could wrap his brain around. Starsky had just disappeared, leaving an empty hole. Gathering his wits as best he could, he left the empty apartment and went directly to The Pits. Huggy greeted him with a friendly smile. “Hey, Hutch! What’s happening? Where’s your other half?” Hutch’s face dropped at the question’s implication. “Huggy, have you seen Starsky?” Huggy frowned and shook his head. “No, man. Haven’t seen ‘im since you two were in here last week, droolin’ all over Kelly. Somethin’ wrong?” Disappointed, Hutch sank onto a barstool. “He’s gone, Hug.” “Gone? Whatcha mean ‘gone’?” “We had a fight, a few days ago. I went over to talk to him just now, and his apartment is empty, cleaned out. He left a message with Dobey saying he was taking a leave of absence.” Huggy’s eyes opened wide. “He just moved out?” When Hutch nodded mutely, he raised one eyebrow and observed, “Musta been some fight.” Hutch slammed his hand against the bar. “Shit!” He jumped up and started for the exit. Before he left, he turned to Huggy with flashing eyes and raised an index finger, instructing, “Huggy, if he comes in here, keep him here. I don’t care if you have to tackle him and tie him to a goddamn chair, just do it. Then call me!” “Will do, kemosabe,” Huggy nodded.
~*~
Hutch called every friend he could think of, trying to find out what had happened to his partner. No one seemed to know anything about his disappearance, or if they did, they weren’t letting on. He even tried Starsky’s aunt and uncle, but neither had heard from him in quite some time. The landlord at Starsky’s apartment did not have a forwarding address. Hutch checked with the post office and was told that his mail was being forwarded to a post office box, but they refused to give the location without a proper warrant. After some persuasion, they did finally reveal that the post office box was in New York City. A neighbor of Starsky’s was able to give Hutch the name of the moving company that had taken away his furniture. They told him that everything had been boxed up and shipped to an address just outside of New York. Finally Hutch broke down and tried calling Starsky’s mother. “Hello?” “Rachel? This is Ken Hutchinson.” “Hutch? Oh, dear, is everything all right?” she asked in alarm. “Yes, yes, Rachel. Everything’s fine. I’m trying to find Dave, though. Have you heard from him?” There was a telling pause, and then she replied, “Yes, Ken, I’ve heard from David.” “Rachel? Is he there? Can I speak to him?” “I’m sorry, honey. He isn’t here. He’s fine, though. You needn’t worry about him.” “I need to speak to him, Rachel. Please. It’s imperative that I speak to him right away.” “I can’t tell you where he is, Ken. He asked me not to.” “Is he in New York?” Silence. “Rachel, this is urgent. Please.” “Honey, I couldn’t betray David’s confidence. I can’t tell you. I’m very sorry.” “Do you… I mean… Has he… Do you know why he left Bay City?” “He didn’t say, Ken. I deduced it had something to do with you when he told me he didn’t want me to tell you where he was, but I have no idea what happened.” “I see. Well, when you hear from him, will you please ask him to call me?” “I’ll give him the message, Ken. Take care, honey.”
~*~
Rachel hung up the phone, and felt her son’s strong arm wrap around her. “Thanks, Ma,” Starsky said as he kissed her cheek. He hung his house key on the hook on the wall. “Did you hear all that?” she inquired. “No, I don’t think so. I came in when you were telling him you’d never betray my confidence.” “He’s very upset, dear. He says he must talk with you, that it’s urgent.” “Thanks, Ma. Message received.” Rachel crossed her arms and frowned at her son. “Are you going to call him?” “Don’t wanna talk about it.” He turned on his heel and left the kitchen. “You’re as stubborn as your father,” she said under her breath.
~*~
Hutch was on the next plane to New York. Armed with the address from the moving company, he decided to confront his partner in person. He rented a car at the airport and got directions from the information desk. After a long drive in terrible traffic, he finally pulled up to the address he was given, tired but hopeful. The house was small and rather run down, in a neighborhood that had seen its prime long before he was born. He couldn’t imagine Starsky in this place, but it was apparent that the address was correct. He went to the front door and rang the doorbell. He was surprised to see Nick Starsky answer the door. “Hutchinson! What the hell are you doin’ here?” “Hello, Nick. I’m looking for your brother. His moving company said this is where they delivered his furniture.” “Well, he ain’t here.” “Is he living here with you?” “No, man, he ain’t livin’ here. He sold me his furniture when he left California. Said he wouldn’t be needing it. He told me to pack up what I didn’t need and put it in storage.” “Do you mind if I come in and look around?” Hutch asked as he barged past the younger man into his house. “Hell, no! Make yourself at home!” Nick shot back sarcastically. Hutch found many of Starsky’s belongings scattered throughout the home, but none of them seemed to be of much personal significance; mostly furniture. There was a box sitting in the middle of the floor, looking like it was about to be sealed up. On top of a bunch of wrapped items was a framed photograph of himself and Starsky, taken on Starsky’s last birthday. It appeared Nick had been truthful; he was packing up Starsky’s belongings that he didn’t have use for, and putting them into storage. Hutch pulled the photo from the box and stared at it, his fingers running along the beaded edge of the pewter frame in a sort of caress. “I told ya he ain’t here,” Nick grumbled as he threw himself onto his couch. “Uh, yeah… I’m sorry, Nick. I really thought he’d be here. I need to find him.” “Yeah, well, he don’t wanna be found by you,” Nick retorted with a sneer. Knowing he would get no assistance from this man, Hutch sighed and went to put the photo back into its box. He paused and turned to Nick. “If you don’t have any use for this, do you mind if I take it?” “Keep it,” Nick replied. “Dave ain’t gonna want it, either.” Hutch tucked the frame under his arm and walked out.
~*~
After making the long drive back to the city, Hutch got a room for the night. He had wanted to see Rachel before leaving, but it was too late in the evening by the time he got back. Deciding to visit in the morning before his flight, he sought refuge in his hotel room, worn out and despondent from his lack of success. Sleep was elusive, so he pulled out the hotel stationery, and began to write his friend a letter. He poured his heart out onto the pages, telling Starsky everything that he had been unable to say in person. Getting it all out of his system was cathartic, as well as exhausting, and after it was finished he collapsed onto the bed in a deep sleep.
~*~
In the morning, Hutch arrived at Rachel Starsky’s home. He sat with her for nearly two hours before he was forced to leave to catch his return flight. She gave him no further information than she had earlier, but she treated him with great kindness and sympathy, assuring him that Starsky was safe. Before leaving, Hutch pulled out the letter he had written the night before. He had addressed it to Starsky’s old address, hoping that the mail would be forwarded to wherever he was now. Instead of mailing it, he asked Rachel if she would mind forwarding the letter herself. She agreed to do so, putting his mind at ease. He got into his rental car and headed for the airport to make the return flight back alone.
~*~
A week after his return from New York, Hutch came home to find his letter to Starsky in his mailbox. The address had been crossed off, and in Starsky’s handwriting it said RETURN TO SENDER in bold red letters. It had never been opened.
~*~
That same evening, Hutch was called into Dobey’s office. When he sat down across from his boss, the man slid a piece of paper across the desk for him to read. Hutch’s heart sank as he read Starsky’s letter of resignation. Without a word, Hutch walked out of Dobey’s office, not returning for nearly a week.
~*~
Hutch finally returned to Metro, this time throwing himself into work with a vengeance. He worked long, hard hours, and took any overtime that was offered. To Dobey’s great surprise, Hutch put up no argument when he suggested assigning Hutch a new partner. The blond-haired man simply seemed resigned to the permanence of the situation. After putting a great deal of thought into it, Dobey decided on a new transfer that was coming in from San Francisco. His name was Mark Nelson, and he was coming in with an incredible record. He graduated at the top of his class from the academy, and had numerous commendations awarded to him since then. Married, with a young daughter, he was ambitious and sharp. He appeared to be a good match for Dobey’s star detective. After meeting with the man, Dobey was very impressed. Mark was outgoing and intelligent, and under any other circumstances, would be someone that he could picture Hutch getting along with quite easily. Now all Dobey had to do was sell the decision to Hutch.
~*~
Mark Nelson walked into Parker Center early on a Monday morning. Captain Dobey spotted him the moment he walked through the squadroom, and greeted him. “Nelson! Get yourself a cup of coffee, son, then see me in my office.” “Yes, sir!” Mark replied happily and set his duffel bag down beside Dobey’s office. He walked past Hutch, who was busy typing up a report, and proceeded to pour his coffee. Curious, Hutch eyed the newcomer. The man was tall, with thick, wavy blond hair and sharp blue eyes. He looked more like a lifeguard than a police officer, but he carried himself with confidence and a certain presence. Hutch knew there was more to this man than met the eye, and he was intrigued. He wondered why the officer was here to see Dobey. A commotion in the room caught Mark’s attention. A young woman had been escorted in, apparently an assault victim, and he watched her interact with the detectives with an intense interest. Suddenly he deposited his coffee on the table and hurried into Dobey’s office. “Captain, could we postpone this meeting?” he asked quickly. “Something wrong, Nelson?” “No, sir. I mean, maybe, sir. There’s a victim out here asking for help, and I think I can help her.” “By all means, Detective,” Dobey nodded. Mark thanked his new captain and hurried from his office. Curious, Dobey got up and looked out his doorway to see what was happening in his squadroom. The new detective went up to the victim and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up to him with fearful eyes, badly blackened from her recent assault. He gestured with his hands, speaking to her in sign language, and her face flooded with relief. She had been wrapped in a blanket, but was still shaking terribly. Quickly, she spoke to the man in sign. “This woman needs a doctor,” he said to the detectives with her, concern written all over his face. “She’s been sexually assaulted.” “We took her to the hospital,” one detective responded. “She refused to get out of the car! We didn’t know what else to do with her, so we brought her here. We gave her a pen and paper, but all she would write is a phone number. We called, but can’t get any answer.” Mark continued to speak with her in sign language at length. Finally he laid a gentle hand upon hers, and stood to confront the other officers. “She has been raped and beaten, and the man tried to kill her. She fought back. I think she’s a victim of the Parkside Rapist that’s been attacking and killing girls for the past five weeks. I heard about it on the news. The perp hit her with something long and metal. He wore a mask over his face, but she was able to pull it off. She can identify the guy.” The other two detectives’ eyes widened. “She wants to give a description. Do you think you can bring in a sketch artist? And maybe a stenographer to take down her statement?” The two men scurried off to bring in the needed artist and stenographer. After signing something to the woman, Nelson returned to fetch the duffel bag he had set down outside of Dobey’s office. Returning to the woman, he pulled a sweatshirt from his bag. Very gently, he eased the shirt’s opening over her head. She gave him a grateful smile, and wrapped the blanket over the shirt, allowing her to slip her arms into the sleeves beneath the modesty of the covering blanket. Once the shirt was in place, she gave Mark a thankful hug. When she pulled away, he took a look at one of her hands. It was swollen and looked painful, perhaps broken. Captain Dobey approached them. Mark looked up and asked, “Captain, is it okay if I take this woman to the hospital when she’s done here? She’s terrified of doctors. She says they never tell her what’s happening. After being raped, she’s even more afraid of being examined, especially since they won’t explain to her what they’re doing. She says she’ll go, if I come with her to act as a translator. It’s just until they contact her brother, sir. She gave the officers his number, but they haven’t been able to reach him.” “Okay, Nelson. You do that,” Dobey replied. “We’ll talk after you get back.” He started to head back to his office, taking note of Hutch who was intently watching the new detective. Hutch got up and approached Dobey, heading him off before he entered his office. He cocked a thumb in Mark’s direction and quietly asked, “Who is that, Captain?” “That’s Mark Nelson. He’s a new transfer from San Francisco.” “Good record?” Dobey smiled. “Almost as good as yours.” “Has he been assigned a partner yet?” “No, not yet.” “I’ll take him,” Hutch announced. When Dobey cocked an eyebrow at him, he smiled. “If that’s okay with you,” he added. “I’ll see what I can do,” Dobey smiled. He entered his office with a lively step, patting himself on the back for picking the right man to be partnered with Hutch. Hutch approached his new partner, bringing him the coffee he had earlier left on the table, plus a cup for the young woman he was helping. “Thanks,” Mark nodded. Hutch saw that the young man was gently cradling the girl’s injured hand in his own. He picked up the phone. “Minnie? Yeah, it’s me. Fine, thanks. Listen, can you get Doc Sanderson to come in here? We have an assault victim, and we want to try and make her as comfortable as possible until we can get her to a hospital. Oh, and ask her to bring some ice packs, too, okay? Yeah, bandages, antiseptic, stuff like that. Great. Thanks, Minnie. I owe you one.” Mark smiled. “Thanks. I think her hand’s broken.” He released her hand and spoke to her again, telling her of the doctor and the ice packs that were on their way. The woman signed back to him in response. Mark laughed. “What did she say?” Hutch asked. “She said she must be a lucky girl to have two handsome blond men to take care of her.” Soon, Doctor Sanderson arrived and bandaged the girl’s bleeding wounds, then applied ice to her hand and the black eye that had started to swell. The stenographer came in next to take her statement, and the sketch artist came up with a portrait based on the girl’s very detailed description. Everyone moved quickly in an attempt to get the girl to medical attention as soon as possible. When everything had been completed, Dobey appeared again, bellowing “Burns, Traynor, my office! Nelson! You and your partner get that girl to the hospital. Franklin, I want your reports on my desk within the hour!” “Captain?” Mark asked. “What partner?” Dobey looked at Mark in amusement. “Didn’t he tell you? Hutchinson has officially requested you as a partner. It’s been approved. Carry on.” He disappeared into his office as quickly as he had appeared. The entire squadroom fell silent as all eyes turned to Mark. Mark stood up, bewildered. He turned to Hutch, intending to ask him who this Hutchinson fellow was, only to find Hutch smiling and extending his hand. “I’m your new partner, Mark. Ken Hutchinson. Call me Hutch.” Mark smiled. “Nice to meet you, Hutch.”
~*~
It was nearly three months later when Captain Dobey placed the call to Rachel Starsky. “Hello?” “Hello, may I speak to Mrs. Rachel Starsky please? This is Captain Harold Dobey of the Bay City Police Department.” “Harold? This is Rachel.” “Rachel, I’m sorry to call so late. I am trying to find Dave. Do you have a number where he can be reached? It’s an emergency.” “Emergency? Harold, what’s happened?” “It’s not good news, I’m afraid. Ken Hutchinson has been shot. I need to find Dave immediately.” Rachel gasped and put a hand to her mouth, as sudden tears came to her eyes. “Oh, no! Is he…?” “He’s alive, Rachel, but it’s not good. Do you know how I can find Dave?” At Rachel’s outcry, Starsky came to his mother’s side. “Ma? What’s wrong?” Rachel turned to her son and placed the receiver in his hand. She sank into a nearby chair and covered her face with her hands as she softly cried. Confused, Starsky picked up the phone and said, “Hello? This is Dave Starsky. Can I help you?” “Dave! This is Captain Dobey.” “Captain! Is something wrong?” “It’s Hutch, Dave. He’s been shot.” Starsky swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “How bad?” “He’s in surgery right now. It doesn’t look good, Dave. I think you’d better get back here.” “I’m on my way, Cap’n.”
~*~
The plane touched down in Bay City the following morning. Dobey had a black and white standing by at the airport to provide Starsky with an escort to the hospital. Starsky marched into the hospital flanked by the two uniformed officers, straight to the ICU. The staff cleared away as if he had been a visiting dignitary flanked by Secret Service. He spotted Dobey in the ICU waiting room and approached him with determination. “Cap’n. How’s Hutch?” “Dave, I’m glad you’re here. He came out of surgery last night, but wasn’t doing as well as expected. Then this morning, he went into respiratory failure. They rushed him back into surgery again. Doctors think his lung collapsed, that he blew a hole in his lung after the first operation. He’s due out any minute.” “How did it happen, Cap’n? Where the hell was his partner?” “Hutch stepped in front of a civilian and took a hit meant for her, Starsky! There was nothing his partner could have done. His partner may have saved his life, Dave. Hutch wasn’t breathing, and Nelson gave him CPR.” “Sorry, Cap’n,” Starsky’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I’m lookin’ for somebody to blame, somebody to take it out on.” “Nelson’s a good cop, Starsky. I wouldn’t have put Hutch with just anybody. Nobody could’ve prevented this. Not even you.” He patted Starsky on the back sympathetically. Mark Nelson walked in just then, carrying two cups of coffee, one of which he passed to Dobey. He looked worn, the stress of the last two days taking their toll. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with a flannel shirt over it. There were still massive bloodstains on his clothing since he had not left the hospital since the shooting. “Starsky, this is Mark Nelson, Hutch’s partner,” Dobey explained. “Mark, Dave Starsky.” Starsky turned to Mark with intense eyes. He shook Nelson’s hand with both of his own, his left hand gripping the other man’s forearm. “Nelson. I hear I owe you thanks. Cap’n here tells me you probably saved Hutch’s life. Thank you.” “Thanks, Starsky. It’s good to meet you.” Nelson looked down at his sleeve that Starsky was gripping and realized he was still wearing his bloodied clothes. “Please forgive me, I haven’t had a chance to change and get cleaned up yet.” Starsky stared at the blood on Mark’s clothes and the reality of the situation hit him hard. “No problem,” he managed to say. “I know how it is.” He felt himself grow pale. Dobey saw Starsky’s distress and interrupted. “Dave, have a seat here.” He pulled out a chair for him. Starsky sank into it looking rather wobbly. Mark sat across from him. “Hutch was asking for you last night,” he informed Starsky. “When he came out of surgery, he was saying your name.” Starsky raised his head and looked at Mark with hope. “What did he say?” “He just kept asking for you, that he needed you. I told him the captain had already called and you were coming. He relaxed after that, and fell back to sleep.” A scrubs-clad man came into the room and all three men jumped to their feet. “Captain Dobey?” the doctor asked. “I’m Dr. Mohiuddin, Ken’s pulmonologist. Ken came through surgery well. He has what’s called a traumatic pneumothorax . We found a tear in his lung that occurred after his previous surgery. The tear has been repaired and his lung has been re-inflated. He is doing well right now, and should be out of recovery shortly. I checked over the area to see that the first surgery is healing properly, and it seems to be doing well. There had been a lot of blood loss from the gunshot wound to his chest, but the transfusion he received earlier has helped to bring his oxygen levels up. All his vitals are stable at this time. You’ll be able to see him once he is in ICU, but we’ll have to ask that you keep your visits brief. We’ll be keeping a close watch through the night. We have to watch the lung for a day or two, and we’ll do x-rays every morning to assess that the patch I put in is holding. After three or four days, I’ll pull the chest tube and see if it stays inflated.” All three men thanked the doctor and he left the waiting room. As soon as he was gone, Starsky stood and said, “I’m going to see him.” He started to walk out. “Starsky,” Mark stopped him with a hand on his arm, “they won’t let you in there. You might as well wait with us.” Starsky stared at Mark’s hand until it was removed. “I’m going to see him,” he emphatically repeated. He was gone before Mark could reply, heading for the nearest nurses station to find out where Hutch was.
~*~
Two nurses were manning the desk in the recovery wing. Starsky came purposely through the double swinging doors, determination written all over him. One of the nurses nudged the other and said, “Check this out. Where’s he think he’s going?” Her supervisor looked up. “Oh, my God. That’s David Starsky!” She watched the man walk directly into cubicle 7A. Kate picked up a file folder from the desk and flipped it open. “Seven-A. That’s Kenneth Hutchinson.” She dropped Hutch’s folder back onto the desk. “Aren’t you gonna tell him to leave?” Marcy laughed and shook her head. “Me and what army?” she mumbled. “Kate, David Starsky could tell the Grim Reaper himself to stick it up his ass. He’s sure as hell is not gonna listen to me.” She set the file folder aside. “Keep an eye on Hutchinson’s vitals. As long as they remain stable, I’m not going to do anything.” She eyed Kate pointedly. “You didn’t see him. As far as you’re concerned, the man is completely invisible. I’ll take responsibility. Understood?” Kate nodded. “Are they friends of yours?” Marcy looked off thoughtfully. “David Starsky was a former patient. A very memorable former patient.”
~*~
Starsky stepped quietly into the area where Hutch lay. Hutch was still unconscious, not yet having woken from the anesthesia. He looked pale to Starsky, and almost fragile. The monitors were beeping a melody familiar to Starsky as he let his eyes drift over the tangle of IVs and tape, blinking lights and dancing numerals. A nasal cannula lay across Hutch’s face, quietly providing him with oxygen. There were wide bandages wrapped around Hutch’s chest, and a frightening-looking tube was attached to his side, running underneath his bed. A soft bubbling hiss came from the suction pump beneath the bed, reminding Starsky of the dangers still lurking. He intently watched Hutch’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, as if he could will it to continue so smoothly. Walking up to the edge of the bed, he reached out and touched his friend’s hand. The warmth of the hand comforted him, reminded him that Hutch was alive, that there was hope. Wrapping Hutch’s hand in both of his own, Starsky spoke to his sleeping friend. “Hutch, it’s me, Starsky. I’m here, buddy. I don’t suppose you really wanted to see me here, but I had to come. I had to make sure you were okay, that they’re taking good care of you.” He squeezed Hutch’s hand lightly, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “I love ya, Hutch. You gotta be okay.” He hooked a stool leg with his foot and rolled it up to the bed. Sitting beside his friend, he lay his head down on the bed, never letting go of Hutch’s hand. Exhaustion took over, and he quickly fell asleep. A short time later, Hutch began to stir. Opening his eyes, he struggled against the drugs to understand where he was. He felt Starsky’s presence before he could see the man, and he instantly felt relief. Soon he could focus on the head of dark curls beside him. “Starsk?” he whispered. “Starsky?” The ache in his chest kept him from speaking louder. Starsky lifted his head in alarm. He glanced around the room, trying to discern what had woken him. As his gaze fell on Hutch’s face, he realized the clear blue eyes were looking back at him. “Hutch?” Hutch gave a weak smile. “Starsk. You…came.” “Sure, I came, buddy. Had to make sure you were okay.” “Starsk…stay.” He flinched in pain from the effort to speak. “I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Starsky assured him. “I’m here as long as you want me here, ‘kay?” “Stay…please.” “Shh, Blintz. I’m here. You rest. I gotcha covered.” Hutch closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep, his friend holding vigil in sleep beside him.
~*~
“Dave? Wake up, Dave. Mr. Starsky?” Gentle hands shook Starsky’s shoulders, pulling him from sleep. “Hutch?” he blurted, snapping awake. “He’s fine,” the woman said softly. “I need you to get up. We’re moving Ken into a room in ICU now. And I need to draw some blood for the CBC test.” Starsky looked at the woman who had awakened him. “I know you,” he stated. “Mary?” “Marcy,” she smiled. “Yes, I was one of your nurses when you stayed with us.” He grinned. “Yeah, you made me a root beer float. No, wait. A black cow.” Marcy giggled. “You remembered. I’m flattered.” She proceeded to check Hutch’s monitors and IVs. “How’s he been? I see his vitals have improved since you arrived.” “He woke up for a minute, then went back to sleep,” Starsky informed her. “Did he seem coherent to you?” “Yeah, he seemed fine. Just tired. Is he gonna be okay?” “They’ll keep a close eye on him for the next 24 hours or so. They’ll know more at that point. So far, everything looks good, though.” She finished prepping her patient for transport to the ICU. “We’re going to move him in a moment. Why don’t you go get yourself a cup of coffee? By the time you’re done, he should be ready for visitors.” A weak voice from the bed called, “Starsky?” Starsky rushed back to Hutch’s side. “Right here, pal.” “You’re here. Thought I dreamed…” Starsky hurried to assure his former partner, seeing his painful struggle to speak. “No, I’m here, Hutch. You still want me here?” “Stay, Starsk.” “They’re going to move you to a new room, buddy. You go on, and I’ll meet you there, ‘kay? I’m not leavin’. Just gonna go talk to Dobey and Nelson.” “Starsk?” “Yeah, I’m here.” “Check…glove compartment.” “What do you need, Hutch? You want me to get something from your car?” “Glove compartment,” he repeated. “What do you need, buddy?” “Read it.” “Okay, Hutch. You rest. I’ll check out your glove compartment, okay?” Hutch closed his eyes and relaxed. “Was he making sense to you?” Marcy inquired. “I don’t know yet, but I’m gonna find out,” Starsky replied. Starsky left Hutch’s room and returned to the waiting room where Dobey and Mark were sitting and worrying. Mark leapt to his feet when he saw Starsky return. “How’s Hutch? Did you see him?” “Yeah,” Starsky nodded. “He’s doing okay. They said his vital signs are improving.” Dobey and Mark looked visibly relieved. Dobey asked, “When are they going to put him in a room?” “They’re moving him to ICU now,” Starsky replied. He turned to Mark, “Is Hutch’s car here?” “Yeah, I drove it here after the shooting. Why?” “Hutch asked me to get something from it.” Mark handed Starsky the keys, then waved him over to the window. He pointed down to the parking lot. “Third light pole from the end, second row.” “I see it,” Starsky nodded. He went to do as his friend had asked.
~*~
Opening the glove compartment, Starsky instantly found what Hutch had referred to. There were two envelopes inside. One contained an airline ticket to New York for the following week. “He was coming after me,” Starsky realized aloud. The other envelope was the one that Hutch had left with his mother. Starsky had sent it back unopened, and Hutch had saved it for him. He opened the letter and read it, sitting alone in the front seat of Hutch’s car.
~*~
Dobey looked up when Starsky returned to the waiting room, and noticed a much more subdued man. There was something about Starsky’s eyes that made his captain wonder if he’d been crying, yet he did not seem as troubled as he had previously. There was serenity in Starsky, as if he knew something about Hutch that the rest of them hadn’t been privy to. “Starsky, have you heard anything more on Hutch?” Dobey asked. Starsky shook his head. “No, Cap’n. I was just at his car.” “Did you find what you were looking for?” Mark asked. “Did Hutch need something?” Starsky looked at Mark and nodded. “I found it. It was…personal. It’s been handled.” A nurse appeared at the door, instantly capturing the attention of the three men present. “Are you the friends of Ken Hutchinson?” she inquired. At their nods, she continued. “He may see visitors now, but only one at a time. He has been repeatedly asking for someone named Starsky. Is that one of you?” “That’s me,” Starsky announced, stepping forward. “Follow me, please.” She led him to the room in ICU, and he stepped in alone to find Hutch wide-awake, lying in a slightly elevated bed. “Heard you’ve been askin’ for me,” he grinned. “Starsk,” Hutch greeted quietly, his voice still raspy from the effects of surgery. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” “Told ya I wouldn’t go anywhere.” “Did you read it?” “Yeah,” Starsky nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I shoulda read it the first time I saw it. Guess I was being a jerk.” “A real ass,” Hutch agreed. Starsky laughed, and then grew serious. “Ya know, you didn’t need to say all that. I never did stop bein’ your friend. Just thought I fucked everything up. You said you didn’t know me, couldn’t trust me. I thought it was over, that I blew it.” “I was angry. I’m not angry anymore.” “Well, don’t worry about all that now,” Starsky ordered. “You just worry about getting well. We’ll straighten the rest out later, ‘kay?” He reached out and squeezed Hutch’s arm. “Ya know, you scared the hell out of me with this shit.” “Starsky.” Hutch stared at him intently. Their eyes met, and Hutch’s softened as he looked upon his friend, staring right through him, communicating with his eyes what he had left unspoken. Tears came to Starsky’s eyes, and he choked out a sob before he could stop it. Swiping at his eyes, he tried to laugh off his sudden burst of emotion. “Damn, they must use a ton of disinfectant in this place, huh? Burns my eyes.” “Starsk.” Unable to meet his friend’s eyes, Starsky took a deep breath. He could feel Hutch’s stare penetrate him, and he knew he would have to face it again. Reluctantly, he met the other’s eyes once more, struggling to hang on to his last bit of control and not break down. A lone tear streaked down his cheek. In a shaky voice, he confessed, “I was afraid I’d lost ya.” “I know.” “I want ‘em to promise me you’ll be okay, but all they’ll say is you’re stable.” Starsky was trying to swallow the stubborn lump in his throat, keep the tears in check. “I want promises.” “I’ll promise you.” Hutch’s hand found Starsky’s and held it tight. “Knowin’ you, you’d lie to me, just to keep me from bawlin’ all over your bed.” “I hate wet sheets,” Hutch agreed. Starsky laughed, but his eyes were still pained. Hutch tugged at his hand and proposed, “Kiss me, Starsk.” Starsky’s head shot up. He chuckled as he asked, “What?” “Kiss me.” “Just what kinda drugs they got you on, anyway?” “Kiss me, Starsk.” He grinned. “You know you want to.” “Ha!” “Come here and kiss me.” He watched Starsky shake his head and look away. In a serious and quiet voice, Hutch said, “I’ve been there. I’ve been on the outside of that window looking in. I listened to them talk about you like death was inevitable. I wanted promises. I wanted miracles. I wanted to reach out and touch you and know that you were alive.” Starsky looked at him, his heart breaking. “Kiss me, Starsk.” Starsky needed no further prompting. He bent down and lovingly kissed his friend. It was long and slow and gentle, tenderly reaffirming life and hope. The two were so lost in the kiss, they never heard Mark enter the room, nor quietly slip out again.
~*~
Returning to the waiting room, Starsky was greeted by Mark and Dobey, both concerned about how Hutch was doing. Mark had insisted that his boss be able to see Hutch next, but Starsky told them that Hutch had asked to see Mark. Anxious to see his partner, Mark hurried off to visit, promising to be brief. Dobey was worried about Starsky. He looked completely exhausted. He tried to convince the younger man to come home with him and have Edith cook him a nice meal, but Starsky refused, offering to take him up on a rain check when Hutch was out of the woods. Mark returned, allowing Dobey a chance to visit. While Dobey was with Hutch, Mark asked Starsky for a ride home, which would leave Hutch’s car and apartment at Starsky’s disposal, per his former partner’s orders. Nelson said that Hutch had given strict instructions that he was to go home and get some rest, and to force Starsky to do the same.
~*~
During the drive to Mark’s home, the two men had a chance to chat. “Mark, I’m sorry you haven’t had much time with Hutch. It’s just, well, me and Hutch go way back…” “Don’t worry about it, Starsky. The way I see it, you’re Hutch’s family. He needs you around more than me right now. I just wanted to see him and be sure he’s okay, and I got to do that. There’ll be plenty of time to visit him when he’s feeling better.” Starsky smiled inwardly. He liked that he and Hutch were seen as family. “Thanks. It’s real important to him that you’re there, too.” “The captain said you flew in from New York. Are you in police work out there?” “Yeah, NYPD,” Starsky confirmed. “Same precinct my old man worked at when I was a kid.” “Do you like it there?” Starsky thought about it for a moment. “New York is nice; I grew up there. But to tell you the truth, Bay City is more like home to me.” “Do you have family in New York?” “Yeah, lots of family. I’m living at my mom’s temporarily. My brother and me have been working on her house, fixing it up in our free time. New roof, couple coats of paint, some new insulation, and stuff like that. We’re about finished now, and it’s time I moved on.” He added with a grin, “Before I get on Ma’s nerves too bad.” “Have you thought about returning to Bay City?” “I don’t know. It would depend on a lot of things…” Starsky replied evasively. “I’d have to find a job, for one thing.” Mark smiled. “With your reputation and your record, I highly doubt you’d have any trouble finding work in this town.” They pulled up in front of Mark’s house. “Say, Starsky, why don’t you come on in and my wife will fix you something to eat?” Starsky shook his head. “No thanks, Mark. Maybe another time. I just want to grab a shower and some shuteye. I’m really beat.” “Another time, then,” he nodded in understanding. “I’ll see you at the hospital around eight.” As Starsky drove to Hutch’s place, he thought about moving back to Bay City. After the way he had left, he wasn’t sure if Dobey would want to hire him back on. Even if Dobey did want him back, would he want to come back to Metro without Hutch as his partner? Hutch would never just drop Mark; he was too loyal for that. The two were close; Starsky could see that Hutch and Mark weren’t just partners, but friends as well. Coming back to Metro wouldn’t be the same without Hutch at his side. Would he still want to? He mulled over the questions in his head as stepped through the door to Venice Place. It felt good to be there. The earthy aroma of Hutch’s plants wrapped around him, surrounding him with the familiarity of this place and the memories it held. He headed straight for the bed and dropped on it, his tired body aching for sleep. Burying his face in the pillow, he inhaled Hutch’s smell, and it triggered an emotional response. Cocooned in the warmth of his friend’s bed, surrounded by reminders of their history together, watched over by the leafy companions, Starsky found release for the emotions that had been bubbling so close to the surface.
~*~
Starsky awoke to the early dawn sunshine streaming in the bedroom window. His sleep had been sound and dreamless, leaving him feeling renewed. He sat up in the bed, trying to collect himself, and looked to the alarm clock to check the time. It was still very early, but he grabbed the telephone and called the hospital to check on Hutch’s condition. The nurse assured him that Hutch’s condition remained stable, and he was doing well. Relieved, he replaced the phone on the nightstand, accidentally knocking over a picture placed beside the receiver. Starsky picked up the framed photo and smiled. It was the picture of him and Hutch from his last birthday party. As he tenderly caressed the beaded edge of the pewter frame, he wondered how this photo had ended up in Hutch’s possession. Carefully he replaced the picture on the nightstand, pleased that Hutch would keep it in such a place. “I miss you, too, buddy,” he whispered to the photo. After a long, hot shower, he dressed and got himself a cup of coffee. He knew he should eat something, but food didn’t interest him, so he just made some peanut butter toast to tide him over. Noticing that Hutch’s plants looked a little droopy, he pulled a watering can from beneath the kitchen sink and began to water all of the plants. It was still quite early when he finished caring for the greenery, yet he couldn’t wait any longer. He headed out for the hospital.
~*~
Hutch was awake when he arrived, and looked considerably better than he had the night before. His color was greatly improved, and he was more animated and alert than he had been after surgery. The nurse happily announced that his blood pressure and heart rate were normal, and his oxygen level was excellent; all signs that his condition was improving. Before long, the doctor came in to examine Hutch and proclaimed to a delighted Starsky that Hutch was considered stable, and would likely be moved out of intensive care in a few days. They shared the good news with Mark and Dobey when they arrived, and in celebration, Mark insisted on buying Starsky breakfast in the cafeteria, much to the relief of the patient. The night before, Hutch had asked Mark to keep an eye on his friend and make sure he was sleeping and eating, and Mark followed through on his promise. While Dobey visited with Hutch, the other two men enjoyed a hearty and happy breakfast.
~*~
Later that day, Dobey finally convinced Starsky to come home with him for dinner. Edith went all out, preparing a feast for them, fully aware of Starsky’s fondness for her special pot roast and her homemade apple pie. No one needed to twist his arm to get him to accept seconds, and he sat back after the meal with a satisfied smile and congratulated her on a spectacular meal. “Edith, you outdid yourself. That was pure heaven.” “Thank you, Dave,” she beamed. “I expect you to join us for all your meals while you are in town. In fact, I insist.” “Oh, no, Edith,” Starsky declined. “I couldn’t put you out like that. Besides, I may be around for a long time, and I sure don’t wanna wear out my welcome.” “How long do you plan on staying?” Dobey inquired. “I’m staying as long as Hutch needs me. I’ll take care of him once he gets out. After that… I don’t know. I’m just gonna play it by ear.” “You mean you might stay? Move back to Bay City?” Edith declared happily. Starsky smiled. “I’m thinking about it,” he confessed. “It would depend on a lot of things…” Dobey quickly interrupted. “If it’s a job you need, you know you always have one with me.” Starsky’s smile broadened. “Actually, Cap’n, I was plannin’ on talking to you about that. I felt bad about leavin’ you high and dry before with no notice. I wasn’t sure you’d look too kindly on me returning.” “You never mind that, son. I know you must’ve had a pretty good reason for doing what you did. I don’t care about how you left. I’d just be thrilled to have you back. You don’t think I’d let some other precinct captain snatch you up, do you? Now I just gotta figure out what to do about Nelson…” “Just leave it, Cap. Hutch wouldn’t go for you breakin’ up him and his partner just ‘cause I decide to come back.” “Well, we’ve got lots of time yet,” he mused. “Maybe something will come up in the meantime…”
~*~
While Hutch was in the hospital, Mark was temporarily partnered with Joan Meredith, whose previous partner had just quit the police force due to persistent medical problems with his knee. The pair got along famously together. They visited Hutch frequently, bringing him little toys and such to cheer him up during his recovery. Joan playfully teased Hutch, “Did I do something to piss off Dobey? How come he keeps saddling me with your cast off partners every time you get shot?” Hutch laughed heartily. “Now wait a minute,” Starsky comically pouted, hands on hips. “You were saddled with me?” “Yes, sweetie,” Joan cooed, patting him on the arm. “But, masochist that I am, I loved every minute of it.” She placated him with a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, I offered to be your partner if Hutch ever got shot again, didn’t I? It’s not my fault you went and quit before I got the chance.” Starsky bowed dramatically, taking her hand in his. “I was fool to throw away such a wonderful chance, schweetheart.” He smiled flirtatiously as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it with flair. She smiled and winked at him. “It’s probably lucky for me you did.”
~*~
A few weeks later, Mark submitted a request to Dobey to make his temporary partnership with Joan Meredith a permanent one. Dobey broke the news to Hutch, who was quite shocked. “Captain, did he tell you why?” Dobey shook his head. “I asked him, and he only said he thought this would be for the best.” “I don’t understand! Why would he do this? And why wouldn’t he discuss it with me first?” “You’d have to ask him that yourself.” Starsky remained silent on the issue, but was thrilled at Mark’s decision. Hutch felt a guilty relief, for he truly wanted Starsky back as his partner. Mark had turned out to be a good partner as well as a fine friend, and Hutch had intended on remaining partnered with Mark when he returned to duty. This sudden change of heart was baffling since Mark wasn’t even aware that Starsky had been offered his old job back; that bit of news had been kept just between Starsky, Hutch and Dobey. When Mark showed up to visit later in the day, Starsky excused himself to allow the men time to talk privately. Hutch got right to the point. “Mark, Captain Dobey tells me you requested a new partner.” Mark nodded. “Yes. Yes, I did.” “I don’t understand. I thought we had a good partnership. If there was something wrong, you could have come to me…” “No, Hutch,” Mark shook his head. “It was nothing like that. You’ve been a great partner. The best. I really hate to lose you.” “Then why did you do this?” “Because I know Starsky will come back to Metro.” “Starsky has nothing to do with this,” Hutch protested. “Hutch, I know you two had a remarkable partnership. I don’t want to stand between you. It’s best for the department if I walk away.” “We had a good partnership, too,” Hutch pointed out. “I had no intention of splitting us up.” “Your partnership was unique,” Mark countered. “I know I don’t have that special bond with you that he does. And Hutch, I know why you two have such a special bond.” “What do you mean?” “I know you and Starsky are lovers.” Startled, Hutch opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and looked away, unsure of what to say. Mark continued, “You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to tell anyone your secret, not even Joan. My wife knows, but she won’t say anything. You know, I’m happy for you both, and I’m glad you got back together. I want to be a friend to you and to Starsky, and this is one way I can be there for you.” Hutch was dumbfounded. “You did this for me? For us?” Mark nodded. “But what… I-I mean, why… How…?” Laughing, Mark replied, “I saw you. When I came in your room that day that Starsky arrived, I saw the two of you kissing. Then I understood why he had left so abruptly before; it all made sense. You must have had some kind of falling out. I knew you two still loved each other. It’s written all over your faces.” Hutch smiled and looked away, embarrassed. “I knew if I told you what I wanted to do, you’d stop me. So I just put in a formal request to the captain.” Hutch looked at his former partner with a shy grin. “Thanks, Mark. You’re a good friend.”
~*~
Starsky laughed heartily when Hutch told him of Mark’s assumptions. “So what did he say when you straightened him out?” “I didn’t straighten him out.” “Whaddya mean, you didn’t straighten him out? You didn’t tell him the truth?” Hutch watched Starsky for a moment. “I’m not so sure what the truth is, anymore.” “Whaddya talkin’ about, Hutch?” “I just don’t think he needed straightening out. I’m not so sure he’s wrong.” “You’re losing me here, buddy. Mark thinks we’re lovers! How much more wrong can he be? Aren’t you gonna tell him you’re straight?” “Starsky, I don’t know what the hell I am, anymore.” “Aw, come on, Hutch. Kissing me a coupla times don’t make you any less straight.” “We need to talk about that first night we kissed, Starsk.” Starsky instantly became wary. “No. No, we don’t. Let’s not poke a sleeping bear, ‘kay, Hutch? I swear, it’s never gonna happen again. Let’s just leave it at that.” “But, Starsky, what if I want it to happen again? What if I don’t want to stop you like I did the last time? What if I want to give you what you wanted to give me?” “Whoa! Slow down a second, here! What the hell are you talking about?!” “You scared me that night. Scared the living hell out of me. Not because of what you did, but because of how you made me feel. I wanted you. I wasn’t prepared to face that. I didn’t want to believe I was capable of feeling this way about another guy. It’s why I got so angry. And I still don’t understand it.” “That doesn’t mean anything, Hutch! I was all over you and you responded to that. That doesn’t mean you’re attracted to men.” “No, not to men. To one man. One person. Just you.” Starsky smiled. Hutch continued, “And that wasn’t the first time I felt something for you; attraction, jealousy, desire. But I’ve always been able to explain it away, or deny it completely. At least until that night. I’ve wondered what it would be like to make love to you. I’ve bristled seeing you openly affectionate with a woman. I’ve gotten aroused just watching the way you move…” “Hutch…” “I think you picked up on it, sensed it. You’ve always been able to read me. Like that night. You only planned on kissing me, but you took things further than you intended. Why?” Starsky looked at his hands. “I thought you wanted more, that you were enjoying what was happening.” “You know me better than anyone. How come you believe you were so wrong about me then? And how come you still think that way?” Starsky looked up, studying Hutch’s face. “So, what do you want to do about it?” Hutch shook his head. “I don’t know. I want to pursue this, but it still scares me. All my life I’ve been certain of who I was and what I was, and now it seems like everything is up in the air.” Shrugging, Starsky said simply, “Then we do nothing. You aren’t ready. Maybe you never will be.” Hutch reached out and gently caressed Starsky’s face. “I don’t want to do nothing.” His expression was filled with longing. Starsky looked at Hutch, love and adoration shining in his eyes. “Then we wait. We wait until you’re feeling better, and until you’re more sure of yourself. We’re not rushing into anything here. Okay?” The look nearly stole Hutch’s breath away. He had never had Starsky look upon him with such naked rapture in his eyes. “I’d do just about anything to keep that look in your eyes,” he said softly. “I love you, you know that?” Starsky sat back and crossed his arms, giving his friend a huge grin. “Yeah. I know.”
The End |
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