Starsky sat with his feet on the desk sipping at his coffee, as he flipped through the file with his free hand. It was a slow case with no leads (and actually quite boring as far as Starsky was concerned). Things had been going slow for weeks and the dark haired detective was restless wishing that since there was nothing to really do that he and his partner could have time off, but of course that wasn't about to happen. He wondered where Hutch was thinking that would take away his boredom - he had no idea that the figure entering the squad would put an end to his boredom for quite some time and would have him wishing things had remained peaceful and quiet.

Richie Barker entered the Squad Room with the confident swagger of someone who knew where he was going. He spotted the person he'd come to see immediately and sauntered over. "You know, it's the blue sneakers on the desk that give you away from across the room," he quipped once he was standing behind Detective Starsky.

Starsky's feet dropped off the desk and fell heavily to the floor. He sat straight up so quickly that he almost spilled what was left of his coffee on himself. He set the cup and the file on the desk (again almost spilling the coffee). He turned his head slightly and just looked at the man for a moment as though he couldn't believe who was standing there, then he grinned broadly and jumped to his feet. "Richie ... "

"Hey Davey! How ya doin'?" he said, his grin broadening to match Starsky's own.

"Can't complain." Starsky said, not complain about Richie calling him 'Davey'. "I never thought I'd see your ugly mug again, what brings you back here?"

Richie shrugged. "I didn't much care for San Francisco. I got the chance to come back here and took it." He looked at him almost shyly for a moment. "I was hoping you might be in the market for a partner."

"Sorry, haven't been in that market for some time." Starsky said, though there was no regret in his voice.

"Oh? They sent you a replacement after I went, did they?" Richie said, obviously trying to cover his disappointment. "Anyone I know?"

"Doubt it. Though it was someone I knew." Starsky said.

Richie raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? How's that? Bust him once?" he joked.

Starsky laughed. "Went through the academy with him ..." Starsky paused for a moment, he had told Richie about Hutch on at least one occasion though as he recalled at the time he may have called Hutch a rich snob since it had been during those years they had been apart. "Hutchinson."

Richie thought about it for a second. "Hutchinson...I think you told me about him. Rich boy who ran off to Beverly Hills with his fancy wife?"

"Yeah, that'd be him."

"How're you getting along? I thought the wife hated your guts."

"She did ... hates his guts too." Starsky said. "Hutch and me get along just great." Starsky told him not expanding on just how close he and Hutch were, after all it wasn't something that could be explained to anyone else.

"Ah. So I take it they separated."

"Yeah." Starsky said, not feeling like going into any real details about Hutch's failed marriage (even though he was glad that the marriage had failed). "How about you? You still searching for the next ex Mrs. Barker?"

Richie smiled self-consciously. "Found her already. I guess all your old friends come running back to you when their marriages fail, huh? There must be a compliment in there someplace."

"I guess." Starsky said, slightly annoyed by the comment, as it struck an old ‘wound’, but quickly shrugged it off.

"Look, that comment may have been a little uncal..." Rich started, but was cut off when Hutch burst through the door and strolled up.

"Hey Starsk, you're not going to *believe* what..." he stopped, noticing Richie standing with Starsky. "Oh, sorry," he said, looking from Richie to Starsky for an introduction of some sort.

Starsky turned slightly and grinned at his partner. "Hey, Hutch this here's my old partner Richie Barker. Richie this here's my new partner Hutch."

Richie reached out and shook Hutch's hand. "Hey, Hutch. I've heard a lot about you."

Hutch smiled, but something in the man's tone bothered him slightly. There was something underneath the comment. "Nice to meet you," Hutch replied.

Starsky was relieved that Richie hadn't said exactly what he heard it was a road he didn't want to travel down again. "Richie here's lookin’ for a new partner." Starsky explained to Hutch.

"Ah," Hutch said. "Anyone in mind?" he asked innocently.

Richie glanced at Starsky. "I don't exactly know who's available at the moment. I guess I need to chat with the Captain. I just got into town and I figured I'd come talk to Davey first." He shrugged. "Beats talking to the Captain."

Hutch smiled, but it was slightly strained. "Yeah, most of the time," he joked, though this Richie was increasingly rubbing him the wrong way.

"I'm sure Dobey'd love to hear you say that." Starsky teased his partner. "After you talk to Dobey the three of us should go out for beers at Huggy Bear’s."

"Sounds great," Richie said. "I'll see you in a bit, then." He turned and knocked on Dobey's door. They heard the Captain's gruff "Come in!" and Richie disappeared into the office, closing the door behind himself.

Hutch turned to Starsky. "So that's Richie Barker. I hear he's a good cop."

"Yeah, he's one hell of a good cop and hell of a good partner." Starsky said, thinking about some of the cases he and Richie had worked on they had made a good team (though nowhere as near as good as Starsky and Hutch).

Hutch nodded and sat down at his desk. "Did he come to see you to talk about old times, or was he recruiting?" he asked casually, though he knew he wasn't fooling Starsky. Dave Starsky knew him too well to be fooled.

"Trying to recruit." Starsky said, seeing no reason in denying that it made no difference since he wasn't about to be recruited. "But, like I told him I already got a partner."

Hutch looked up at him. "Okay," he said quietly, letting Starsky know that he was satisfied with that answer. There was no further need for discussion. "So do you want to hear why I'm so late?"

"Of course, Blintz, and it better be good."

Hutch smiled. "You're never going to believe it. I was driving in to work, just like any other day, and then I turned the corner onto Hillgrove Road and there's this..."

Just then Richie came out of Dobey's office. "Well, that's one thing taken care of. What say we go eat, fellas? I'm starved!"

Starsky gave Hutch a look that said he expected to hear the rest later, and stood up. "Yeah well that makes two of us."

Hutch stood up slowly and followed Barker and Starsky out of the Squad Room.

Starsky paused and glanced over his shoulder, having sensed that Hutch wasn't very close behind. "Hurry it up would ya, slowpoke." when Hutch didn't make any move to rush to catch up, Starsky walked backwards, with quite a show of pretending to run back and slung an arm around his partner's shoulders, the friendly contact was not something he displayed with Richie.

"What's your hurry?" Hutch joked. "It's not like we've got anything to do at work." Hutch was unusually self-conscious on their walk down to the garage. He was embarrassed that he felt threatened by Barker's presence at all, much less that he was being so damn *obvious* about it. He could kick himself. What did he have to be so insecure about? He didn't miss the somewhat dirty look that crossed Barker's face when Starsky ran back to walk with him.

"I'm starvin' that's what my hurry is." Starsky said. "So, who'd Dobey assign you with or is he gonna spring it on you later? I think he likes doing that ..."

"Actually he says he's got an odd-number right now. He's waiting for another transfer to come through. He doesn't know how long that's going to take. For the time-being I'm on my own," Richie answered.

"Yeah that happens at times. I was on my own for awhile after you left ... partly because I didn't get along well with others."

"Something about him not playing nice," Hutch said. He caught a look of mock-indignation from Starsky. "Well that's what I heard," he shrugged with exaggerated innocence.

"Yeah ... and who did you hear it from?" Starsky said, in mock confrontational voice, almost seeming to forget that Richie was there for a moment.

"I believe it was something the captain mentioned before he stuck us together. It was something like 'Sorry to do this to you Hutchinson, this guy you're getting doesn't play nice, but we have utmost confidence in your ability to knock him into line.'"

Starsky scoffed at Hutch's joke. "At least you got a better deal then what I got stuck with ... but being as there is tender ears around .." he motioned to Richie with a nod of his head. "I won't go into what I got stuck with."

Hutch laughed. "Just get in the car!" he said, as they approached Starsky's red and white Torino.

"See, Richie, I *told* you that I get a *good* *fast* car one day." Starsky said boastfully.

"It's, uh... *something*, Davey," he said, looking it over. "And didn't I tell you you'd get carried away when you did?"

Starsky just grinned brightly, he was used to be teasing about his car, Hutch always teased him about it - in good fun. "Hey, I didn't get as carried away as you said I would."

"I don't know about that," Richie commented in mock-dubiousness, then held the passenger door open for Hutch to get in the back seat. Hutch looked at him a second, then climbed in. He didn't want to be childish about this. The guy was an old friend of Starsky's, it was perfectly reasonable that he wanted to sit with him and talk to him - they had a lot to catch up on. The thought didn't make Hutch feel any better, but he said nothing and tried not look like it bothered him.

Starsky didn't even notice Hutch's reluctance to sit in the back, after all if he had been concerned he could've called 'shotgun'. "It's not that bad ... geez everyone's a critic." Starsky said in mock hurt that neither *partner* liked his car.

They found a table near the back of the room in Huggy Bear’s, a restaurant owned by their friend and sometime informant Huggy Bear. Huggy sauntered up to the table. "Let me guess, gentlemen: A beer, a beer and... a beer?"

"You must be psychic, Hug." Starsky replied for all of them. "Why not just make it a pitcher though."

"Will do," Huggy said. "Be right back."

"So, blondie, why were you so late this morning? And it better be a better story then that junk heap wouldn't start." Starsky said grinning at his partner.

Hutch smirked. "It must have started - when I stopped telling the story, I was turning the corner, remember?"

"So, then it died. That would be a nice story. It died and you decided to actual buy a *decent* car."

Hutch rolled his eyes. "You want to know what happened, or do you want to make smart-ass comments?" he joked.

Starsky seemed to debate both options carefully for a minute. "I want to hear your *excuse*." Starsky teased, though is voice showed genuine interest.

"Alright," Hutch said. "Well, I came around the corner, and suddenly the first thing I see is this upside-down shopping cart in the middle of the road! So I hit the brakes and stopped just short of hitting the thing. I got out of the car, and the first thing I noticed was the soda cans. There were *hundreds* of soda cans *all* over the road. Then I see this bag lady sitting on the curb. And it was starting to make sense. So I sat down and she told me that she was crossing the street when some hotrod came ripping around the corner and sent her cart flying. She'd been collecting those soda cans for *months*.

They were her meal-ticket, y'know? So I offered to help her collect them back up. It took us an hour and a half. Then I got her to the other side of the street where she was going when it all started." He paused and noticed the slightly incredulous look on his audience's faces. "That's the honest truth," he said.

"Coming from anyone else I wouldn't believe that story." Starsky said seriously, he glanced at Richie. "You see, my partner tends to be the white knight." Starsky explained, his voice wasn't teasing or criticizing but instead he said the words

with pride.

Richie nodded. "He certainly sounds like one. The kind of man who picks up his Good Samaritan points before breakfast." Richie smiled, but there was still something under his tone that Hutch didn't like.

"It wasn't that big a deal," Hutch said, shrugging it off.

The beer finally arrived and the three detectives started to drink before continuing with their conversation.

"At least it's a slow day so I'll forgive ya for being so late." Starsky grinned. "Besides I didn't even really notice that you weren't there." he teased.

Hutch forced a smile. "Yeah, well, you had a... distraction," he said, glancing at Barker.

"Yeah, a good distraction." Starsky said with a huge grin. "It's always nice to see an old, long lost friend."

Richie grinned. "Yeah, it's been a long time. How long have you two been together now, anyway?" he asked casually.

"Three years ... five very long years." Starsky answered, partly joking.

"Wow, three years. That's a long time, Davey," Richie said. "You must work well together."

"Yeah, we do. We're the best." Starsky said boastfully. "Almost as good a team as we made." Starsky said, though he was only joking - he felt his partnership with Hutch was perfection it was solid *me and thee* something he never had with anyone he worked with.

Hutch was watching his beer go around and around the bottom of his glass as he absently whirled his glass around. Rationally, he knew Starsky was only joking - they joked like this all the time - but the conversation was making him uncomfortable. He felt stupid for feeling that way, but he couldn't help it. Starsky was joking, but Richie's comments had a malevolence to them that Starsky wasn't picking up on. "Are we going to order?" he asked a little more sharply than he wanted to. 'Good, Hutchinson,' he thought. 'Lovely gift of subtlety you have there - Richie will never pick up on how effective his remarks have been. Dumb-ass,' he chided himself.

"Oh, yeah, guess we should." Starsky said, he glanced at Richie. "You really should try Huggy's burgers. There great and thick ..." he over exaggerated the size with his fingers to show Richie the size. "And just dripping with *goodness*."

"Um, Starsk?" Hutch said lightly, "I think that's called 'grease'."

"Yeah, so?" Starsky questioned. "It's better that that slop you drink in the morning and call a protein shake ..."

"That *slop* is entirely nutritious. There's not a single thing in it that your body can't use. Half the crap *you* usually eat isn't *life-sustaining, Starsk. Technically, it can't even be called 'food'."

"It's better then desiccated liver and butterfly bones." Starsky said, he looked at Richie. "Hutch here's a total health food nut." he explained.

"For all the good it does me," Hutch added. "Ever try to get anything that has any nutritional value at all on the fly?"

"I keep telling ya that you need to change your eating habits, babe." Starsky said with a grin. "Ya know, Rich, he complains about my eating habits ... and yet I am the obviously the one in better shape."

Hutch raised his eyebrows in mock indigence. "Oh really? And how would you like to defend that argument, Officer?" he asked in a lawyerly tone.

Starsky grinned. "Solid muscle ..." he explained patting his stomach, he reached over and patted Hutch's stomach. "Not so solid flab."

Hutch smiled ruefully. "Flab?"

"Yup, complete with love handles." he added and tickled, Hutch's side knowing that his partner was ticklish.

Hutch jerked back when he was tickled, and cleared his throat. "Try to control yourself, Starsky," he said, mock-scolding him now. "This is a public place."

"Hard when your blue eyes flash so lovely when you’re ticked off." Starsky said in a mock flirting tone, then quickly sat back as though he embarrassed himself by his mock flirting with Hutch in front of Richie.

Richie watched the proceedings with a sort of curious interest. The rapport between Starsky and Hutchinson was quite a bit different than the one *he'd* had with Starsky. Though perhaps that was due to the fact that Hutchinson was about Starsky's age, and Barker was a good 5 years older. "Well, Davey, if you recommend the burger, I guess I'll have to try the burger," he said with a smile.

"Well it's nice that at least *someone* takes my suggestions serious."

"Poor man's been gone too long," Hutch said with a pleasant smile for Barker. "Doesn't know what he's getting himself into." The expression that crossed Barker's face at Hutch's comment satisfied him a good deal more than it should have. Why was he behaving like this? He felt like a jealous wife. It was *stupid*. Starsky already told him, straight out, that he had no intentions of changing partners.

"Surprised you actually came back here after our last case." Starsky commented casually.

Rich looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"It was a hell of a case, it was the main reason you wanted to move away to 'Frisco."

"Yeah, well... turned out they had nasty cases there, too," Richie said, sort of quietly.

"At least right now things are quiet. Nice and boring case ... no life and death situations."

"What *are* you guys working on that's so... unheavy?" Richie asked.

"Simple case ..." Starsky said and begin to tell Richie all the details of his and Hutch's current case.

Hutch resumed the study of his beer. There was no reason *not* to tell Barker about their case. He was on the team now. But Hutch still didn't like it. "Look," he said. "You can read the files when we get back to the precinct. Why mix business and pleasure, huh?"

Richie looked at him. "A crime is a crime. It needs to be solved. I mean, I'm assuming you still have time for that in your busy day of lunching and picking up garbage for the homeless of the city?"

"We do a lot of work." Starsky said, defending them both as though Richie had been referring to both of them and not just Hutch. "Last week we busted a drug ring that was selling drugs at one of the high schools."

Rich looked at Starsky. "Oh yeah? That's great! Those guys are the worst kind of scum," he said. "How did you get them?"

"Hutch went in as a substitute teacher, he did most the dirty work." Starsky said.

"Yeah, I would call dealing with teenagers 'dirty work'. And what did you do?"

"Once we got our first lead, to know the drugs were coming in with the cafeteria food … I got myself a job "delivering". Turns out it was the principal doing the selling. Brings a whole new meaning to going to the principal's office."

"I'll say," Richie agreed. "Nice bust, guys! Very *nice*."

"It all went smooth no near fatalities." Starsky said, shooting Hutch a grin 'near fatalities' seemed to be something that happened to them often but they always beat the odds. "'Specially since it's my turn."

"Yeah, and I'm *holding* you to that," Hutch joked, both of them knowing that if it came down to it, either of them would jump infront of a bullet for the other.

Starsky grinned and turned back to Richie. "Enough talk about work. Tell me what've you been up to?"

Richie shrugged. "Not much. Work. Marriage. Divorce." He sighed. "That pretty much sums things up."

"How long you been divorced?" Starsky asked, the reoccurring thought of Richie's comment of how his friends always returned after a failed marriage entered his mind for a fleeting moment.

"Well, we separated about 7 months ago. We filed about 3 months ago. It hasn't finished going through yet... so I guess *technically* I'm *not* divorced," he said with a weak smile.

"Gee, now why does all this seem so familiar." Starsky thought glancing at Hutch for a moment. "So, that makes what two ... three ... twelve?" he teased

Rich grinned. "Only 2 *actual* marriages! Third time's a charm, I'd say." He paused as if thinking something over. "It doesn't count if you break off the engagement *before* the ceremony, right?"

Starsky laughed. "Nah, that's a freebie."

Huggy wandered over. "Did you guys want any actual food, or are we going to enjoy the old liquid lunch today?"

"Yeah 2 burger specials and 1 of Hutch's usual." Starsky said ordering for all of them.

"Right," Huggy said, and headed back towards the back.

"So you guys come here a lot," Richie said. "You have a 'usual'."

"*He's* a friend of *yours*? Where have you been hanging out since I left, Davey?"

"I knew Huggy from when I first came to LA ... just fell outta touch for a while." Starsky said. "Don't really hang out anywhere different then I did before ... well except here of course."

"Mmmm," Richie mused. "You've become a creature of habit. Well, that's probably the rich boy's influence." He turned to Hutch. "Isn't conformity what boarding school is all about?"

Hutch coloured slightly, but controlled his temper. "I wouldn't know," he said.

"Yeah, well I imagine it is Hutch's influence." Starsky said his tone was firm, and reflected that he thought it was a good thing. "I wouldn't call it conformity - more just comfortablity."

Hutch just looked at Starsky. What had he told Richie about him? He must have told him *something*. How else would Richie know that his family had money? Hutch got up. I have to make a phone call," he said and left the table. The pay phone was on the wall near the men's room. Hutch stopped in front of the phone, debated picking it up even though he really had nobody to call, then decided against it and ducked into the bathroom.

Starsky cursed under his breath, knowing he really only had himself to blame. Debating going after Hutch to talk or letting his blonde partner blow off some steam first. He knew Hutch wasn't making a phone call without even having to look.

Starsky looked at Richie. "Look ... I know what I said before ... but things are different with Hutch now. Well more so just the fact that I see it different now. A lot of stuff was going on back then ..."

Richie looked at him. "I was just joking, Davey. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't realize it was a sore spot with him. Sorry."

"Rather sore spot for both of us." Starsky said quietly and leaned back in his chair. "Don't worry about it, if he's gonna be mad at anyone he'll be mad at me." he gave a half hearted smile as though he was joking - though he was actually slightly concerned about Hutch's anger towards him for things he had told Richie in the past.

Richie smiled. "Don't worry too much about that," he reassured Starsky, though not for the reasons he knew Starsky would take him to mean.

Hutch splashed water on his face, and let it run down his nose and cheeks as he leaned on the sink. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and watched the water dropping into the sink as it dripped off his face. He felt acutely embarrassed. He

*wanted* to go back out there and sit down like nothing had happened, but he was seriously doubting his ability to go back out there at *all*. Were they out there laughing at his clumsy retreat right now? Possibly. He didn't know if Starsky had spoken of him back when he and Barker were partners or more recently. It didn't seem to matter much at the moment. It hadn't really been a factor in Barker's use of the information to humiliate him.

Starsky glanced at his watch. "Maybe I should go check on him."

"Yeah, tell him I'll try not to step on his delicate sensibilities so much in the future," Richie said dismissively.

Starsky grinned and got to his feet and strode into the washroom. He noticed Hutch leaning against the sink, feeling like a louse for the things he'd said in the past that led to Richie's nasty teasing, he had grown accustomed to it while they were partners and had practically forget about Barker's darker humour. "How ya doing, partner?"

"Fine," Hutch mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Just peachy, obviously."

"I know Richie can have a nasty sense of humour when it comes to joking, but that's all it is." Starsky explained, he paused a moment as though to collect his thoughts. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Hutch turned to him. "Can I ask you just one thing? *One* little question? What the hell did you tell him about me? Because I don't know a damn thing about him!"

"Hutch, it was a long time ago ... all I ever said was about how you and moved to Beverly Hills with Van ... because that was the *lifestyle* she wanted ... and at the time I thought *you* wanted *that* ... so I said some things I shouldn'tve but ... damnit Hutch I … needed *someone* to talk to..."

Hutch sat down on the floor and held up his hands to stop Starsky's explanation. "Just... it's okay. I'm not angry, Starsk. I'm just..." He swallowed uneasily. "I'm embarrassed. He embarrassed me and I compounded it by running away."

"What's there to be embarrassed about?" Starsky asked, as though not following Hutch's brand of logic.

Hutch looked at him in disbelief. "Starsky, this entire lunch has been a circus of oneupmanship and I *folded*."

Starsky looked confused. "What are you talking about? Most of this lunch has been talking about cases."

"Most of this lunch has been him trying to make me look bad," Hutch said forcefully. "He got me with one where it hurt when I wasn't expecting it and I ran. I can't go out there again, Starsk. If I have to go and sit at that table with him I'll die of shame. I'll *die* of *shame*!"

"Trying to make you look bad? Starsky questioned. "Why in the hell would he want to do that? What possible motive would he have to do, and just *who* was he trying to make you look bad too, there was only the three of us at that table."

Hutch rolled his eyes before shutting them and leaning his head back against the wall. "Nevermind," he said quietly. "Just go on back before he thinks we *both* fell in. I'll be out in a minute."

Starsky debated it for a moment, he stepped closer to Hutch and squeezed his shoulder before going back out to rejoin Richie. Hutch opened his eyes to see Starsky leave. Then he pulled himself to his feet, washed his hands and face, patted them dry with a handful of papertowels, then slowly walked out of the bathroom.

Starsky and Barker were sitting with their backs to the bathrooms. When he spotted them, they were talking about something. Laughing. Hutch took a deep breath and walked around the table to his seat. Rich looked him over.

"Feel better?"

Their food was sitting on the table, brought sometime while he was in the can. Hutch picked up a french fry. "Much, thank you," he said without enthusiasm as he studiously dipped his fry in some gravy from his hot roast beef sandwich.

Starsky seemed to study Hutch's face for a moment, then seeming to accept Hutch's answer grinned. Hutch didn't end up eating much. He hardly touched the sandwich at all, just sort of picked at the fries. He didn't talk much for the rest of the meal either. Starsky didn't question it, though Hutch thought he caught a curious glance or two. Richie seemed as happy as a pig in shit. He would, Hutch thought miserably. The rode back to the precinct in Starsky's Torino and dropped Barker off at the requisitions department on their way upstairs.

"Hutch?" Starsky questioned quietly as though testing the waters to start a conversation with his partner.

"Yeah?" Hutch answered as they made their way down the hall towards the Squad Room.

"Anything I did say to him before is in the past. We’ve been though this a few years ago ... it was a long time ago. Doesn't even seem like it ever happened anymore, ya know what I mean?"

"I know. I understand. Don't worry about it," Hutch assured him. That wasn't what was upsetting him anymore. He'd gotten over that. But how could he tell Starsky what was really eating him? Well, I think your ex-partner is trying to steal you from me. How stupid would that sound? "I've already forgotten it," he added.

Starsky grinned, a very broad grin, obviously relieved to hear that Hutch wasn't still upset by what had been said not only today but also in the past. "So, then what's upsetting you? Worried about not being able to find a hot date for the weekend?" he asked teasingly.

Hutch smiled faintly. "I don't have any problems in that department, thank you." His expression regained its graveness and he shrugged sullenly. "I guess I just don't appreciate your friend's sense of humour. I think he was a little too familiar to somebody he just met. I think he took a few too many liberties for someone who was addressing a friend of a friend who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. There are things you can joke about with friends, Starsk, that you don't joke about with strangers."

"I guess maybe he felt he could because you were my friend … ain't there a saying about my friend's friend being my friend?"

"Yeah, it goes with the one about my friend's enemy being my enemy," Hutch said, trying not to be too pointed about it.

"Well, Richie is a friend and not an enemy. You'll get used to him. I did."

Hutch nodded. "I'll take your word for it."

Starsky pulled some change out of his pocket (more exactly a couple nickel and few pennies) frowning at how little he had, not nearly enough to buy a candy bar. "You got some change?"

Hutch reached into his pocket and, wordlessly as always, handed Starsky a quarter.

"Thanks." Starsky said with grin, as he jogged off towards the candy machine - hungry despite the fact he had just eaten lunch.

Hutch watched him go and waited for him to return before going into the Squad Room. He picked up some papers from his desk. "I don't supposed any possible breaks in this case materialized on our desks while we were gone," he mused as he shuffled through them.

"Nope. Every one of our cases stood still without your illustrious presence here." Starsky teased

"Well, that's good to know. I'd hate to think I was superfluous to the process," Hutch deadpanned.

"Though since you are here and there's no breaks ...."

Hutch gave him The Look. "Starsky?"

"What?" Starsky questioned with a look of complete innocence on his face.

"Shut up." Hutch said with mock-seriousness.

"You see what I put up with?" Starsky questioned Richie, who had just came up behind Hutch, in mock exasperation.

Richie smiled. "Yeah, well, his type are used to ordering us working-class boys around," Richie cracked.

Hutch rolled his eyes, but was determined not to let any hurt or frustration he felt regarding Barker show on his face. He turned his attention to his paperwork. It was probably overdue anyway. They never paid it much attention.

Starsky shrugged. "Never does him much good." Starsky grinned. "Besides I have him well trained most the time." he teased.

"Yeah," Hutch said, "it's just that peeing in the box part I can't get the hang of."

Starsky laughed, though Richie seemed unamuzed. "Did, Dobey assign ya to any case or he just letting you loaf around?" he asked his former partner.

"Actually," Richie said, "he told me to loaf around you two until he finds me a partner. He figured with all the non-solving happening in this case, one more brain wouldn't hurt matters. In fact, he said it would bring you up to one and a half... but I think he was joking," Richie said with a smile.

"Well, then, partner ..." Starsky grabbed a file off the desk and handed it to Richie. "Instow upon us all your wisdom."

Richie flipped through the file for a bit, pausing to read things here and there more thoroughly. Finally he closed the file, placed it on Starsky's desk and said "In my professional opinion, I would have to say that this case is on the outskirts of

nowhere and heading towards the middle real fast."

"Well thank you for the insight," Hutch said a little testily. He was smarting a bit from Starsky's reference to Richie as 'partner', though he was trying (sort of) not to show it. "Anymore pearls of wisdom? We've been looking for someone to stand around stating the obvious for us."

"I don't know why Dobey assigned us to this case … other then maybe payback." Starsky said, sounding quiet serious.

Hutch didn't answer. It had crossed his mind. They'd made a mistake on their last case that made the D.A. decide not to take it to court. That consequence chagrined them as much as it had Dobey and Dobey knew it, but Hutch couldn't help thinking that maybe this case was to teach them a lesson.

"Ya know Dobey is a great one at payback, still." Starsky said to Richie, with a slight smile that seemed to tell of something that happened years ago when he and Richie had been partners. "Though, since I'm his favourite it must always be against my partner."

Both Richie and Hutch gave him a look, then glanced at each other. Hutch looked away, but Richie held his gaze on Hutch. "I see you haven't managed to shake him of his delusions of grandeur either. I guess it's one of those character flaws that his friends just have to accept."

"I don't know if I like this idea of Dobey's ... not with the two of you teaming up on me." Starsky pouted. "Bad enough having to deal with one partner ... but two ... a man can only stand so much ya know."

"I'm sure the situation will be resolved shortly enough," Richie said confidently. Hutch looked at him. There it was again - that tone he didn't like. Rich caught his look. "What? Don't agree?"

"No, I'm sure things will work out," Hutch said dully, then turned back to his work.

"Things always work out. Well, most the time they do ..."

Hutch looked up at Starsky and held his gaze for what seemed like a long time. He was almost scared to let it go.

Starsky just gave his friend a lopsided grin, one that seemed reserved for Hutch. "Guess we shouldn't complain too much about the case, it is nice to be able to relax for once."

Hutch felt anything but relaxed. Richie upset him, and he was even more upset by the fact that Richie upset him. But he smiled. "Good point," he said. "I was worrying I'd forgotten how."

"That's your problem, Blintz, you worry too much." Starsky explained, a though he were a professional psychiatrist.

Finally their shift ended and the three men headed to Starsky's place for pizza and beers.

Richie looked around the apartment and nodded approvingly. "I like it, Davey. Much better than that dump you *used* to live in." he teased. Hutch ignored him and wandered over to the fridge to get a beer, then sat down at the table with it.

"Yeah, well not only did I get myself a *better* car, I got myself a *better* place to live."

"Did they give you a raise since they put you with Mr. Uptown over there?" he said, nodding towards Hutch.

"No, couldn't get lucky enough to get a raise. Juts saved up my nickel and dimes ... and borrowed some money, for the car." Starsky said, obviously not intending to tell from who he borrowed the money.

"Must be nice to have a rich partner," Richie commented, not needing Starsky to tell him where he'd gotten it. "Nice that you're generous, though," he said to Hutch. Hutch just looked at him, then at Starsky.

Starsky shot Hutch a smile. "It's very *nice* ... the car is great, it woulda taken me forever to save up enough." Starsky's eyes seemed to shine brightly as he talked about his beloved car.

Hutch shook his head and smiled to himself. That look on his partner's face was precisely *why* he'd given him the money. Starsky had vowed to pay it back, but Hutch didn't really care one way or the other. The car, which to Hutch looked like a parade float from Mars, made the man so damn *happy*.

Starsky grabbed two beers from the fridge, and gave one to Richie before settling down on the couch, as they waited for the pizzas to arrive. Starsky couldn't help but smile it felt good to have two friends there with him, he was happy that the three of them would be working together for a while, figuring that it wouldn't take long before Hutch and Richie became good friends.

There was a knock on the door and Richie got up to get it. "This is on me, fellas. For your hospitality," he added, then pulled open the door. He paid the pizza man, and carried the pizzas over to the kitchen table and set them down.

Starsky hungrily grabbed a huge slice of the pizza, the one that had nearly everything except the kitchen sink and Hutch's 'healthy' toppings.

Richie picked up a piece of pizza, then smiled thoughtfully. "Hey, Davey, remember that time we busted that pizza delivery boy for drug dealing?" He turned to Hutch. "There was this kid that was covering his drug deliveries using his pizza delivery job. It was pretty classic, huh Davey?"

Starsky laughed. "He was doing okay until he started mixing up the deliveries. Nothing like delivering a well *topped* pizza to the wrong address ... to a person that just happens to be a cop."

"Yeah, the only thing I didn't like was how the plastic bags get stuck in your teeth," Richie joked.

"Yeah that would be a problem. He definitely wasn't one of your brighter criminals." Starsky laughed. "It's definitely a crime to have toppings like that ... just like it should be a crime with certain other toppings." Starsky said, reaching over to pick a topping off of the slice of pizza Hutch was holding. "Serious crime."

Hutch snatched the tomato from Starsky and put it defiantly back on his pizza.

"Maybe not, but he looked like a *genius* next to that armed robber who tried to run away with the whole cash register under his coat when the damn thing wouldn't open!" Richie said.

"Yeah and tried to act casual about it." Starsky laughed. "He tired to act insulted, that we'd offended him when he had a serious weight problem ... "

"Then he tried to walk away normally and it slipped out of his hand and crashed to the ground. Broke his toe..." Richie was laughing along with Starsky.

"We definitely handled a lot of cases with some real stupid criminals. Like that couple that robbed the bank and tried to say it was just a *loan* ... after all the teller *gave* them the money."

"And that guy who killed his wife and put her body in the freezer trying to claim that he'd been looking for her and that she must have *fallen* in."

They discussed several other cases, laughing as the reminisced about the more funny cases.

Hutch glanced at the now cold left-over pizza and looked at his watch. He stood up. "I have to go," he said nonchalantly. "See you tomorrow." He headed for the door, picking up his jacket on the way. He had caught Richie's triumphant smile as he passed him going into the living room, but ignored it.

"See ya, Hutch." Starsky said, feeling a little bad for having excluded Hutch from the conversation, but decided that if Hutch wanted to be a part of it he could've brought up any number of their past cases.

Hutch stopped and turned to look at Starsky. "Bye," he said flatly, then hurried out the door. As it shut he could hear Richie saying something, though he couldn't make out what. They both laughed. He stepped out of the building and got as far as the curb where Starsky's Torino was parked. He looked at it a minute, then shook his head and stepped around it to look for a cab to hail.

Starsky leaned back against the couch, glancing again at the door as if it would open and Hutch would come back - just like with what happened at the restaurant.

"What are you doing?" Richie asked.

Starsky shrugged slightly, it was hard to put into words. "Just seeing if he was gonna change his mind."

"He seems to favour the early exit, doesn't he? You don't think he's awfully touchy?"

"Hutch is just ... Hutch." Starsky tried to explain but couldn't find the word beyond that to explain his best friend.

"Davey, I know you like him and, as much as you don't want to hear it, you tend to be a little blind to the faults of people that you're close to. I know I've really only just met him, but I've noticed that Hutch tends to get a little... involved in things. That could be dangerous to you, Davey."

"How could that be dangerous?" Starsky asked increndously, there was almost a hint of anger in his voice.

"Davey, someone who's very emotionally involved isn't thinking straight rationally. Now, I'm sure he's fond of you - you have to be friends with your partner if it's going to work - but in a bad situation you need someone who's thinking on all eight cylinders, so to speak. Not someone who's fretting about everything." He noticed the expression on Starsky's face. "I know it's not what you want to hear," he said gently, "but I wouldn't say it if I wasn't honestly worried about your safety."

Starsky's blue eyes flashed darkly. "You were right you *just* met him. You *don't* know him. Hutch is my *best* friend. And let me tell you something it's that 'emotionally involved' that has kept me alive more times that I can count. We have been in *bad* situations and in those situations I know I can count on Hutch to get me safely through it because he *cares* so much." Starsky said angrily. "You don't have to worry about my safety, not as long as Hutch is around."

"Look, Davey, calm down. I didn't mean anything, alright? I just worry about you, I guess, since I haven't been around to watch your back myself. If you say he's got you covered, then he's got you covered. Truce?"

Starsky's gaze softened and he smiled. "Truce."

"Okay," Richie said with a relieved smile. "Let's have another beer."

Starsky and Richie talked long into about the old cases they had worked and reminisced about the past in general.

Hutch walked into the precinct the next morning not sure if Starsky would already be there or not. He wasn't at his desk, so Hutch went over to the coffeepot and poured himself a coffee.

Starsky and Richie both arrived late to work, having over slept. Starsky saw Hutch by the coffee. "HEY! POUR ME ONE TOO!" Starsky shouted across the room to his partner, getting a few annoyed looks from the other detectives in the room, but nobody said anything as though this was a normal occurrence.

Hutch smiled and turned around, his smile fading slightly when he noticed Barker. He poured a second cup of coffee, picked up a handful of sugar packets and stepped over to their desks.

"Thanks." Starsky said as he sat down heavily at his desk, looking exhausted.

"Late night?" Hutch asked a little acidly.

"Early morning actually." Starsky replied with a smile, before taking a long swig of his coffee.

"But you're looking bright-eyed and bushy tailed," Richie observed, looking Hutch over. "It was pretty smart of you to take off so early."

"At least someone was smart enough to go to bed at a decent hour." Starsky said, his tone wasn't clear if it was a joke or if he was coming to Hutch's defense.

"We should go have another talk with Charlie Speedman," Hutch said to Starsky, holding up a file. "I've been going over his statement and there are a few things that don't quite add up. I think he knows more than he told us."

"Ol Charlie doesn't *know* much." Starsky said with a small smile.

"But he knows what he likes," Hutch said wryly. "And that would be money."

Rich crossed his arms. "So are we going with two good cops and a bad cop, or two bad cops and a good cop?" he asked. "I've never worked in a triumvirate before."

"Not sure if Charlie will be comfortable with a stranger." Starsky said, looking at Richie.

Richie looked almost startled for a second, and looked at Hutch, who sat looking at him, but silently and with an inscrutable expression his face. "Well that's understandable," Richie said, quickly recovering himself. I'll hang here and keep trying to find something more in these files," he said, waving to the pile on Hutch's desk.

"That sounds like a good idea," Hutch said, standing up. "C'mon, Starsk," he said, heading for the door.

"It shouldn't take us too long." Starsky informed Barker, and quickly walked after his partner, swinging an arm around Hutch's shoulder in a casual gesture the second he caught up.

Richie glared at their backs until they disappeared from sight, then sat down at Hutch's desk. He was about to open a file, when it seemed to occur to him where he was sitting. He looked around. Everyone else in the room was busy with their work. He opened the top drawer and started to go through Hutch's things.

"By the way ..." Starsky started to say after they had got into the Torino, "sorry about last night."

"What for?" Hutch asked absently. He'd decided after he left not to make a big deal out of it. He was determined to be understanding - even if Richie Barker *was* a big jerk.

"'Cause ..." Starsky started finding he couldn't explain exactly what he was sorry about. "Well, you did take off rather quickly ... and rather early."

"I was tired," he said, knowing it sounded lame and Starsky wouldn't buy it. He sighed. "Or not." He looked at his partner. "Okay, you got me. I was uncomfortable, so I took off. But don't worry about it. You guys had a lot of catching up to do. It's no big deal," he insisted, trying not to grumble.

"Yeah, no big deal." Starsky said, seeming to stress the words. "I'll try not to bore you in the future by talking about any case I worked with Barkie, okay?"

"Oh, please *don't*," Hutch said, not referring Starsky discussing the cases he worked with his former partner. "I don't want to do this with you, alright? Talk about anything you want. It doesn't bore me, it's just..." He rolled his eyes at his own inability to express himself. "Remember what happened at Huggy's? I guess I was still just smarting a bit from that. I'm sorry I ducked out. I didn't mean it as some kind of... statement. I don't have anything against Barker. He just rubs me the wrong way and I wish he didn't, but I can't do anything about it. Could we not argue about it?"

"Who’s arguing?" Starsky questioned defensively.

Hutch leveled a look at him.

"You're the one who takes off like a whipped dog every time Richie says the least little thing you don't like. He can just be a little ... abrasive at time is all, you just haveta ignore him most times."

Hutch stared at him now, looking openly insulted. "I beg your pardon?" he blinked. "A whipped dog?"

"You know what I mean." Starsky said, regretting his choice of words.

"Yeah, I'm starting to," Hutch said, hurt. He turned to look out the window.

"Hey, c'mon Hutch you know I didn't mean anything *bad* just ... if you take off every time he says something that you don't like you sure as hell won't be around much."

"No, I guess I wouldn't be, which I imagine is why he does it."

"He does it because it’s what he does."

Hutch looked at him. "He doesn't do it to you."

"Yeah, he does ... did ... does ... whatever, it ain't just you."

"No, I've been trying to tell you that. It has nothing to do with me at all. It's all about *you*."

"What?"

"I don't know what he's running from in San Francisco, but he came back here because he figured you'd be partners again. He wasn't expecting me. And he's more than a little put out by my existence. But it has nothing to do with me."

"Why do you think he's *running* from anything, just because he changed precincts don't mean he's running. If that was true about someone just up and changing precincts you'd be guilty too, buddy."

"I *am* guilty. Did I ever deny it? You know why I came here. I wasn't expecting *you*, but I came here to run away. And so has he. I know the look. I've seen it in the mirror. And I may not have been participating much in your conversations, but I *was* listening. You guys mentioned something about your last case having to do with his leaving in the first place. I don't suppose you want to tell me about it."

"No." Starsky replied shortly. "Wouldn't want to talk about it to give another excuse to run off again."

Hutch rolled his eyes. "I'm over that, if you must know. See, I went home last night and thought about all of this. That's when I figured it out. I finished running the moment I realized that *he* was running. But by all means, don't talk about it. I wouldn't want you to tell me as much about him as you've told him about me," he said pointedly.

"I *don't* want to talk about it." Starsky said defensively, slamming one hand hard against the steering wheel. "It's different, Hutch ... I mean ... sure I told him *things* but that was back when ... all that past shit ..." Starsky stammered trying to find a way to explain what made the differences.

"It's different because you hated me then and you don't hate him now," Hutch said simply and quietly, unable to look at Starsky as he said it.

"I didn't hate you … angry ... hurt ... hell we've been through all that. I never hated you, Hutch, never." Starsky said. "Look, I just don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Hutch nodded, looking at his hands. "I lost my best friend once," he said quietly. "I thought he didn't need me anymore. It ripped my guts out." He looked at Starsky. "Barker bugs the hell out of me, but I know how he's feeling right now. I also know what it feels like to be in the middle, Starsk, so when you're ready to talk about things, let me know and I'll listen."

"More just ... misplaced, never really lost." Starsky said softly, reaching out to place a hand against Hutch's arm, his action seemed as though to comfort not only Hutch but also himself.

Hutch smiled slightly. "I didn't know that then," he said.

"Neither did I."

Starsky and Hutch strode happily into the Squad Room about an hour later to find Richie sitting at Hutch's desk, flipping through one of the files.

"Find anything useful?" Starsky asked, he move to lean over the back of the chair to glance at the file then stopped short.

Richie glanced up at Starsky when he noticed his hesitation. "What is it?" he asked.

"Just wondering if you found anything in the file." Starsky said, as though he heard Richie's question wrong.

Richie looked at him a moment, then answered him. "No, nothing new and exciting. What about you? Have any luck shaking Speedman's peaches?"

"Not really, same old song and dance he always gives." Starsky said and sighed in frustration. "This whole case is nothing but one big dead end."

"I don't know about that," Hutch mused, sitting down in Starsky's chair because his own was taken. "When Charlie pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his sweaty little forehead, he didn't notice this fall out of his pocket," Hutch said, producing a matchbook from a bar called The Helena. "Not exactly the kind of place a greasy little weasel like him would frequent."

Starsky sat down on the edge of the desk, beside Hutch. "It still seems like another dead end. I mean The Helena is ... it don't tie in."

"Well, Charlie Speedman had the matchbook in his pocket, so there's a connection *somewhere*. Either he went there for a specific reason, or he's been hanging with someone who frequents the place. But you're right - unless he happened to pick that matchbook up someplace and it has nothing to do with anything, it puts a completely different spin on things."

"Maybe he stole it. He's a pickpocket, you know that. And they would never let him in the place, he doesn't meet their high standards." Starsky said.

"So he knows someone who does," Hutch insisted. "And if it turns out he doesn't, what have we lost? This case is going nowhere anyway."

Starsky shoved himself off the desk. "It's just another dead end if you ask me."

"Doesn't seem that he's *asking* you, Davey," Richie said.

Hutch gave him a dirty look. "Are your relationships *always* built on sucking up, or do you only do it when you want something?" he asked sharply.

"Why don't I just leave you two to your bickering ... I'm going to find something to eat." Starsky said starting to walk off without waiting for a reply from either of his *partners*.

Hutch watched him go, then closed his eyes for a second. "Alright," he said finally, standing up. "I'm going to check out the Helena," he told Richie, then stalked out of the Squad Room.

Detective Franks Myers was walking down the hallway when he was almost ran over by one very angry looking Hutchinson.

Hutch reached out and grabbed Myers' arms to steady him. "Sorry," he mumbled and went to step past Myers when Myers stopped him. Hutch looked at him curiously.

"Having problems with Barker?" Myers asked though it was almost more of a statement then it was a question.

Hutch raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"Because that man is just one big problem. Nobody ever liked him and ..." Myers paused not sure if he should continue or if what he was about to say would only serve to anger the already irritated man.

"And what?" Hutch asked, intrigued.

"And at the time ... nobody else really got along with Starsky ... I mean nobody exactly hated him ... just ... it might have been because he was partnered with Barker, and that was when he first got here ..." Myers stammered, appearing afraid that Hutch was going to slug him for saying anything *bad* about his partner.

"And it was a kind of death by association situation?" Hutch filled in for him. "What was it that made Barker so popular, exactly?"

"It wasn't so much death by association as it was Starsky’s bad attitude ... he ... didn't get along well with others. Couldn't really tell you he's even the same person, he changed a lot since you two became partners ... guess you're a good influence." Myers said, trying to ease some of the tension that hung in the air between them. "Barker's sense of *humour* left a lot to be desired ... I heard he's been on your case ... don't take that too personal he did that everyone ... even his par-Starsky."

"Yeah, Starsky said so," Hutch told him. "And if Starsky had an attitude problem back then, don't praise my influence. I had a hell of a lot more to do with it than you know. Tell me about their last case. All I know is that it had something to do with why Barker left."

"Actually I'm surprised that it was Barker that left and not Starsky. Nobody ever figured that out."

Hutch's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"It was a case gone wrong from the getgo." Myers said, and paused. "Maybe I shouldn't be the one really telling you all this ... if Starsky hasn't ... "

"Frank," Hutch said, starting to become irritated again.

"Barker got a little carried away with his cover ..."

"What cover?"

"He was playing *muscle* for a shipping company ... trying to prove they shipped more then their invoiced stated ... Starsky was undercover as a truck driver ...."

"Yeah," Hutch said. "Then what happened?"

"Starsky's cover was blown ... Barker stayed undercover ... I mean I know he shouldn't just blow his wide open ... but ... I personally think there comes a point where my partner's safety comes before solving the case ..."

Hutch moved closer to Myers, unconsciously gripping the other officer's jacket. "What happened?" he insisted. "What did Barker do?"

"I just know ... second hand ... just what the reports said ... Barker worked Starsky over quite bad ... nobody found him for a couple days ... in the back of one the trucks. He was in the hospital for quite a while ... there was no disciplinary action taken against Barker ... Starsky said it was just in the name of solving the case -- that's what Barker cared about solving the case..."

"Let me get this *straight*," Hutch said angrily. "Barker beat Starsky up, stuffed him in the back of a *truck*, then left him there for dead until he could collar the bad guys? Are you shitting me??"

Myers nodded slightly, feeling quite worried for his own safety at the moment since he had just played 'bearer of bad news'.

Hutch was stunned for a minute, then seemed to suddenly realize he was holding onto Myers' jacket. He let go and smoothed it out dumbly, then he looked up suddenly and met Myers' gaze. "My God," he said quietly.

"Barker took off ... though, Starsky didn't really seem angry about it ... seemed to think it was part of the job … as though that was what a partnership meant ... though that's just speculation ... nobody really knew what he actually thought … he worked even less well with others after that ... like I said you can't tell he's the same person ..."

"How well would you work with people if the one person you were supposed to be able to count on did *that* to you?" Hutch asked him. He leaned back against the wall.

"Yeah." Myers said taking on unconscious step away from the blond detective. "Don't know exactly what went down that night ... only two people know that ..." Myers shrugged. "Starsky doesn't seem too upset that Barker came back though."

"No," Hutch said. "But they aren't exactly waxing nostalgic on that particular subject either." He looked over at Myers. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "Sorry I... assaulted you like that. I'm just at my wits end lately," he explained, running a hand through his hair.

Myers gave a small nod and walked off on his way to where he had been going before running into Hutch. Hutch looked after him, then stood in the corridor a moment trying to remember where he'd been going.

While he was standing there, he saw Starsky coming down the hallway, on his way back from wherever he'd been eating. He considered ducking away before Starsky saw him, but quickly dismissed it. They needed to talk.

Starsky almost intentionally walked past Hutch,(to pretend as though he hadn't seen his partner) though seemed to change his mind as neared Hutch. "Thought you'd be off checking your lead."

"I was just on my way," Hutch said, shrugging towards the far end of the hall half-heartedly.

"And?" Starsky questioned casually.

"It seemed a little bit strange and a little bit sad to go by myself."

Starsky gave Hutch a questioning look, it wasn't as though they never checked up on a lead alone before.

Hutch nodded down the hallway. "Wanna come? Just to humour me? Please?"

"Yeah, sure, partner." Starsky said, he could tell by Hutch's tone that his friend wanted more then his company to check on the lead - he wanted to have a serious conversation, and though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it he agreed to what Hutch was asking.

They went down to the parking garage and got in Starsky's car, pulling out of the garage and starting on their way before Hutch started talking. "Starsk? I don't know how to put this without being blunt, and frankly I'm not in the mood to tiptoe around things. I've never had to tiptoe with you. Try not to be too upset, would you? I just want to clear things up, I don't want to make a judgement. I just want to *know*, okay?"

"For not wanting to tiptoe around things you sure are being vague."

Hutch sighed. "Well I don't want to have this conversation anymore than you will when you find out what it's about, but we *need* to Starsk."

"Talk about *what*?" Starsky asked, pulling the car over to a stop, figuring if it was as bad as Hutch was making it seem that it wasn't a good idea to be driving while they had this conversation. "Just tell me whatever the fuck it is that you’re trying so hard not to tell me."

"The fact that you're already getting upset doesn't bode well," he said pointedly.

"Well what do you expect when you make it all sound so grim? You said yourself that you doubt I'll want to have this conversation."

"Starsk, I found out what happened with Barker. Why he left. Somebody told me. Didn't you think someone would? Eventually?"

Starsky's eyes darkened. "Sure they just up and *told* you ... I'm sure you didn't go around asking any kind of questions behind my back ... "

"I *didn't*, Starsk. I didn't go *looking* for it. But when it was offered, what did you expect me to do? You could have just told me about it yourself!"

"I *TOLD* YOU THAT I *DIDN'T* WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" Starsky yelled, turning on the seat to glare at Hutch, his eyes were a mix of emotions - and anger wasn't the strongest emotional that could be so easily read by someone who knew him well.

"Starsky," Hutch said quietly, placing a hand on his arm. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't do anything wrong." He held his gaze for a moment and squeezed his arm gently. "Do you want to give me your version? The one I heard was hearsay."

"Nothing to tell that wasn't in the reports." Starsky said in a disconnected tone.

"I haven't read any reports. Talk about it. Please? Get it out in the open so it can stop tearing you up inside."

"There's *nothing* to talk about." Starsky said defensively. "It was just a case gone wrong, simple as that."

"If it's as simple as that, why can't you talk about it, Starsk? To *me*. Hmm?"

"And just *what* do you want to hear? That I almost *blew* the case by getting my cover blown? That I *never* even saw it coming? Just *What exactly do you want to hear?"

Hutch raised his voice now to match Starsky's, to get through to him, and because watching it rip Starsky up was ripping him up just as badly. "I want to hear that you're even just a little bit angry about what Barker did! I want to hear that you felt just a *little* bit betrayed!"

"He did what he felt needed to be done ... he solved the case."

"At what cost? Do you honestly think you couldn't have got them without all of that? Do you honestly not think that he might have gotten a little carried away?"

Starsky shrugged. "You don't want to hear it so just let it be ... just let it be, okay?"

"No. I can't. You could have *died*, Starsky. You could have DIED!"

"But, I didn't. So ... no harm done."

"Yes there was, Starsk," Hutch said, suddenly quiet. "And lots of it at that."

"It's in the past ... just let it stay buried ... please, Hutch. Just let it all stayed buried ... it's best for everyone that way."

"Best for everyone, or best for Barker?"

"Everyone."

"Have it your way, then. We're wasting time. Let's go to Helena's," he said quickly, feeling stupid for the way he'd handled the situation.

"Don't feel like driving." Starsky mumbled, absently pulling the keys out of the ignition before climbing out of the car.

Hutch scrambled out of the car after him. "Starsky!"

Starsky didn't even lifted his head to acknowledge his partner he just walked out onto the road, appearing to have intentions of crossing, moving as though he was sleepwalking.

Hutch rushed over and grabbed him, pulling him out of the road before he walked into traffic. They tumbled into a tangled heap on the side of the road. Hutch untangled himself slightly, but didn't let go. He shook Starsky by the shoulders slightly. "Starsky? What's wrong?!" he asked with a note of panic rising in his voice.

"Nothing." Starsky replied quietly, his voice distant sounding. His eyes looked large and unseeing.

Hutch placed a hand in Starsky's hair. "C'mon, buddy, look at me," he whispered.

Starsky turned his head slowly to look at Hutch. He blinked a couple times, seeming to shake away the haze that settled over his mind. Starsky diverted his eyes away from his partner. "Sorry." he mumbled.

Hutch took Starsky's chin in his hand and gently turned his head to face him. "Hey," he said. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"It's not ... why did ..." Starsky tried to say getting frustrated as he could find the words to express what he was trying to say. "Why the hell did he have to come back?"

Hutch leaned over and gave him a hug. "Maybe he realized you're the only person on the planet who'll put up with his shit for long," he said, though not unkindly.

"Maybe ... until recently I kinda ... forgot how bad things had gotten back then." Starsky admitted. "I still don't know if I hate him for what all happened or not. I mean he was a friend and all ..."

"I know," Hutch said. "And I know first hand how loyal you are to your friends, but... " he sighed. He didn't want to say anything that would upset Starsky again. He fell silent.

"You wanted to know if what he did felt like betrayal right?" Starsky asked, he didn't seem to realize, nor care that they were sitting on the sidewalk by the Torino. "Are you want the answer to that?"

"If you feel up to giving it," Hutch answered.

"You won't like the answer .."

"Maybe not, but I've heard a lot of things I don't like today. I'll try to handle it."

Starsky took a deep breath and slowly realized it. "Sure I felt betrayed ... but I was used to it ... so used to it that it didn't hurt ... or at least hurt less then when …" Starsky paused. "You left me ... that's why betrayal from a *friend* felt so ...*normal* of a thing for me."

Hutch covered his face with his hands for a second, then ran a hand through his hair. He'd had a feeling that that would be the answer. He nodded. "I deserved that," he said quietly.

"No." Starsky said firmly. "It's two different things ... one was ... intentional ... one wasn't." Starsky put a hand against Hutch's cheek. "and I *know* you'd never intentionally do anything to hurt me."

"I'm glad we have that much of an understanding," Hutch said with an awkward smile.

"I just ... I don't like thinking about what happened … don't like seeing it in a new light neither."

Hutch looked at the ground. "Sorry for shining one on it. I just... I admit that at first I was thinking of myself. I was afraid he'd, I don't know. That he'd find a way to replace me. But after I heard what happened before, the only thing I was worried about was that you'd get hurt again hanging around with him. I'd just heard when I met you in the hallway. Maybe if I'd had time to deal with it before I saw you I wouldn't have been so... hasty. I'm sorry."

"Replace you? Why on Earth would you think a thing like that?" Starsky said, seeming to find nothing else Hutch said to be as important as those words.

"Because he... Starsk you should have caught the death looks he was shooting me. He's been trying to push me out of the picture since he *got* here!"

"Didn't notice." Starsky admitted. "But never thought about it. Replacing you that is. You aren't just my partner, you are my best friend Hutch. I guess I never saw him trying to 'push you out of the picture' because I would never think of that, ya know what I mean?"

Hutch nodded. "I knew it was stupid, getting so worked up about it. But the guy was really starting to piss me off."

"Sorry." Starsky apologized for what felt like the 100th time in the past several minutes. "I was just more concerned with having you both get along that I didn't really notice how truly upset he was making you ... I might be stuck in the middle but this is one easy choice to make." Starsky not needing to say what *choice* he would make if he had to, knowing that Hutch already knew the final answer.

"I don't want you to have to choose," Hutch whispered. "I know how that feels and I'd never wish it on anybody." He looked over at Starsky. "If you're going to tell Barker to go to hell, do it because a stupid *smuggling* bust was more important to him than your *life*. It wasn't even a murder case, for the love of Christ!"

"And shouldn't I tell him to go to hell for how he's been treating you? Maybe I haven't noticed it but that doesn't mean I don't care. What happened back then was too long ago to matter now ... everything has changed. I think I ... I am more angry at him for how upset he made you then I am over what he did back then ..."

"Starsk? It's *me*. Who do you think you're kidding, huh?" he said, raising his eyebrows and smiling at him.

"I ... don't know." Starsky said, though the answer seemed as clear as a flashing neon sign - he was only kidding himself, though he was just seeing that sign for the first time.

"C’mon," Hutch said, pulling himself to his feet and offering a hand to Starsky. "People are going to start wondering what happened to us."

"Let 'em wonder."

Hutch smiled. "That sounds like the Starsky I know and love. Do you still want to check out our tenuous possible lead while we're out?"

"Not really ... don't feel up to it." Starsky admitted. "I'd rather just go have a beer ... or two ... or three ..."

"Or four, or five..." Hutch said, grinning now. "Want me to drive?" he offered, despite knowing what the answer would be.

Starsky debated it for a minute. "Sure." Starsky tossed the keys to Hutch. He had *never* allowed anyone else to get behind the wheel of the Torino in the two and half months that he'd owned the car - afraid that they wouldn't drive careful enough, he hadn't even let Hutch drive the car. He smiled at his partner, the look in his eyes telling him that it wasn't that he didn't want to drive but that he *trusted* Hutch to drive the car.

Hutch looked startled, but accepted the keys. He slid into the driver's seat and waited for Starsky to get in the passenger's side. "Starsk, I'm afraid that when I see Barker again, I may have to punch him right in the nose," he said, then started the car.

"You don't have to."

"That will depend on Barker," Hutch said, and pulled away from the curb.

Starsky closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat for a moment. He was quiet for several long moments as memories of the past raced through is mind. He struggled to keep a tight reign on his emotions, refusing to have another breakdown. "You shouldn't be too hard on him." Starsky said softly.

"Why's that?" Hutch asked tightly. "Because I haven't been any better?"

Starsky sighed in frustration. "That isn't what I meant, Hutch ..."Starsky's voice trailed off leaving the sentence unfinished.

Hutch looked at him, the hardness gone from his face. "What did you mean?" he asked gently.

"It wasn't *all* his fault."

"How do you figure that?"

"He did what it took to get the job done ... I didn't." Starsky paused and turned to stare out the passenger side window.

"Oh, you mean you intentionally and neglectfully blew your cover? You waltzed into the badguys' secret lair and said "Hey, I'm a cop!"

"No ... doesn't much matter *how* it happened as the fact it *did* happen ... no sense in both going down when one can still solve the case." Starsky said the last part of the sentence spoken as though it were a direct quote.

"One could have still solved the case without beating the snot out of one's partner," Hutch said, leaning very sarcastically on the word 'one'. "There are a thousand and five excuses he could have had for *not* beating you half to death - or at least for not doing it right infront of them. He had the case three-quarters of the way in the bag from what I understand. He only needed to *stall*!"

"So, *maybe* he made a mistake ..." Starsky seemed to be about to say something else when he paused and said something different. "It's not like he never said sorry, he did."

Hutch looked at him. Looked *into* him, more like. The way they looked at each other when they both knew one of them wasn't being entirely straight. They very rarely were capable of hiding anything from each other. And when one of them *did*, the other one always knew that he was hiding *something*. "What were you going to say?" Hutch asked.

"Nothing." Starsky mumbled, still not even looking at Hutch, hoping that his partner would drop the whole issue, he'd already talked a lot more about it then he had wanted to (which was not at all). "Since you seem to like finding out all about it from other people why don't you just go around behind my back and ask them all more questions." Starsky suggested crossly, though his only intention with the comment was to get Hutch angry enough to stop questioning him.

Hutch looked stricken at the comment, but struggled to compose himself. "If you'd prefer I get it that way," he said with blatantly forced calm. "People seem to like telling me about it."

"I'm sure they like telling a lot of things."

"Yeah, well, nothing like a little precinct soap opera involving everyone's least favourite detectives, right?" It was a nasty comment that he didn't mean, but he was stinging badly from the previous rebuke.

Starsky visibly flinched. "Yeah ... sure ..." Starsky said quietly, there was a slight tremor to his voice as though his emotions were teetering on the edge of losing control.

Hutch, stopped at a red light, let his head fall against the steering wheel and rest there a moment. "Sorry," he said softly. "That was uncalled for."

"Why bother being sorry, it's the truth after all." Starsky said plainly.

"No, it's not the whole truth," Hutch said, looking up to see the light change. Hutch glanced at him. "They don't *know* the whole truth."

"And nobody ever cares about the *whole* truth."

"I do. What were you going to say?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Okay," Hutch said, and they drove the rest of the way back to the station in silence.

Starsky wasn't very quick to get out of the car once the red Torino was parked in it's usual spot. He knew the reason why they hadn't stopped to get a few beers - they were no longer in the mood to do so, at least not on a 'casual' level. Though he'd rather just go home and drink himself into oblivion rather then return to work, he still forced himself to follow Hutch inside.

Hutch sat down at his desk and picked up a file. He didn't even open it, much less pretend to read it. He just stared at the cover for a bit. Starsky stood by the candy machine, digging through his change as though looking for enough money to buy something, there wasn't nearly enough to buy anything (even if he actually wanted to) but he made a point of counting his money over and over again. Hutch turned and looked out the window between the Squad Room and the hallway to see Starsky standing by the vending machine. He walked out, pulled out a quarter, dropped it in the coin slot, then leaned against the wall beside the machine. Starsky wordless made a selection, he picked up the peanut bar and stared at it as though trying to decide if He even wanted to eat it.

"Go on," Hutch prodded. "It's good for you."

Starsky gave Hutch a quizzical look, his partner never thought there was anything 'good for you' in a candy bar and most times tried to dissuade Starsky from eating so many, though he still always gave his partner the change to buy them.

"If it's so good, you eat it." Starsky said, tossing the peanut bar to Hutch.

Hutch looked at it a second. "Okay, I will," he said, tearing open the wrapper. "But you'll regret it, because that was my *last* quarter, buddy."

"I'm sure you have better things to do with your money anyways." Starsky said, and turned to walk away.

Hutch tossed the candy bar onto the top of the machine. "Sorry," Hutch said. "I didn't mean to offend you with my peace offering."

"Whose *offended* anyways?" Starsky asked, before walking off down the hallway. He had no intentions of going back into the squad room, not knowing that everyone in there, at least ones that had been there for a while, were talking about the events in the past concerning his partnership with Richie.

"Me, I guess," Hutch muttered, much too quiet for a halfway-down-the-hall Starsky to hear.

Starsky wasn't watching where he was going, most people moving out of the way of the dark haired brooding detective - except for one person he ran right into - one of the two people he would rather avoid right now, Richie.

"Hey, Davey!" he said, gripping Starsky's arms to steady the both of them. "Where you off to in such a rush? Hot lead on the case? Hutchinson back from that hoity-toity pub yet?"

"What the fuck is with the third degree, huh?" Starsky questioned, his head shot up, his blue eyes blazing as he glared at Richie. "I am sick and tired of playing twenty questions .."

"Whoah, there! I was just asking about the case that we're working on. What happened that's got you in such a pissy mood?"

"Not a single, fucking thing is happening with the case. It's the same boring shit it was before. No leads, and nobody really giving a rat's ass if it's even solved."

"Yeah, I kinda gathered that much. But that's not what's got you in the bitch mood. I know you better than that. Or I did once. And I *do* know that you *were* enjoying the little 'working vacation' this case was affording you. So? Or do you not want to talk about it?"

"There is *nothing* to talk about." Starsky said firmly. "Since both you and Hutch seem to want to *talk* why the hell don't ya just both talk to each other, I'm sure the two of you could have a nice friendly conversation." he added sarcastically.

"Why the hell would I want to talk to *him*? He's been on my ass since I got here. If you don't want to talk, we won't talk. Wanna get a beer?"

"So ... you hate him, he hates you ... and right now I ain't too fond of either of you." Starsky said. "I was thinking more along the lines of *several* beers" he relented.

"Sure. I'll buy," Richie said, and gestured for Starsky to lead the way.

Starsky led the way out, pausing at the door for a moment, debating going to tell Hutch that he was taking off, but deciding that Hutch probably didn't really care if left, feeling as though the once stable partnership was on thin ice - and the ice was cracking.

Hutch started to go back to his desk, but in the end he asked himself what the point was. The case was stupid, Starsky had wandered off to God knew where. He headed down to the parking garage to go home. He got there just in time to see Starsky and Richie getting into the Torino. Starsky didn't even notice Hutch as slowly began to pull away. Hutch watched him go, watched the Torino all the way out of the garage. People were going to think he was nuts, getting half-way everywhere, then turning around. He went back upstairs to pull some old files.

Dobey walked over to Hutch's desk. "Where the hell is your partner?" he asked crossly.

"I don't know," Hutch said absently, his eyes still on the file in his lap. "I'm not his mother."

"Yeah, though you are his *partner* and you are suppose to know *where* your partner is." Dobey said gruffly.

"If you need him, call him on the radio," Hutch suggested. "Last I saw him, he was driving off somewhere in the Torino with his *other* partner." Hutch glanced up at him. "Meaning one of his partners *does* know where he is. That should tickle you to death."

"Barker chose to work with you two?" Dobey asked incredulously, wishing he had been more specific when he told Richie to juts team up with any of the teams, since nobody was working on anything much at the moment (at least not any of the teams that were in the squad room at the time).

Now Hutch looked up at Dobey sharply. "What do you mean? He told us you *sent* him to work with us. Specifically and by *name*!"

"I didn't tell him who to work with, I assumed he'd choose someone he'd never worked around before, all things considered." Dobey said, speaking more quiet by the time he finished the sentence. "The *last* thing I would've suspected was for him to try to team up with Starsky again ... or for either of you to even go for such an arrangement."

"We didn't think we had a choice," Hutch said quietly. "And Starsky wouldn't have said anything anyway." Hutch looked down at the file in his hand. "He doesn't blame Barker for what happened, you know." He looked back up at Dobey. "And I know what happened now."

"You do?" Dobey asked, looking doubtful that Hutch knew *everything* that happened ... after all nobody but the partners had known what exactly what went down.

"Well, as much as little birds were happy to sing in my ear and the very limited bit that I could drag out of Starsky. Which was probably more trouble than it was worth," Hutch said looking down a little abashedly, "since he's not exactly talking to me right now."

Dobey found the last part hard to believe, he had witnessed arguments between the two detectives but none of those fights really even last long enough to reach a point of 'not talking' to each other. He looked at the blond for a long moments. "Perhaps we should discuss this in my office, Hutchinson." Dobey said in a very professional voice.

Hutch barely hesitated. He got up and walked into Dobey's office.

Dobey motioned to one of the chairs in front of his deck, before proceeding to sit in his own chair. "Now, I'm sure you heard there was a lot of problems, with Barker. And there was a long inquiry into Barker's actions *that* time."

Hutch nodded. He hadn't exactly heard about the inquiry, though he *had* assumed it'd taken place. He was more interested in the unspoken 'but' that Dobey had asked him here to discuss.

"There wasn't enough to charge Barker on though, because Starsky refused to testify anything against his ... partner."

"Yeah, he's loyal like that," Hutch said. So far he still hadn't heard anything he didn't know. But he knew it was *there*. He wished to hell Dobey would just *say* it.

Dobey nodded slightly. "And, I'm sure you heard that Starsky almost died."

"Not in so many words, but it was always... implied."

"He was in the hospital for quite sometime ... while he was in there Barker requested a transfer."

"Which was happily granted and he was sped off to distant shores. All that's common knowledge. What are you trying to tell me, Captain?"

"Barker never once appeared at the hospital. Starsky was released from the hospital the day before Barker's transfer." Dobey paused. "Some people think Barker was working for Micheals and that's how Starsky's cover was blown. Most believe that Barker was playing both sides and Starsky was caught in the middle ... though I don't believe that Barker paid Starsky off to remain quiet about it."

"No, he just beat him unconscious so he couldn't see too much," Hutch said. "Was Starsky told of these ... allegations?"

Dobey nodded. "It's why they wanted him to testify, they believe he knew more then he let on. That's why they thought Starsky was paid to keep quiet."

"Starsky may be loyal, but he would never hold respect for someone who did that. No," Hutch shook his head emphatically. "If he knew Barker was playing both sides, he would have said so. He forgave him because he thought it was about solving the case. He didn't press charges or testify at the hearing because he didn't think a crime had been committed. What *did* he say to a suggestion of Barker's... duplicity?"

"He refused to believe it." Dobey explained. "I just think perhaps with Barker around here again that you should keep a close eye on your partner."

"Do I still have one, Captain?" Hutch said sadly. "Barker's been trying to push me out since he got here. Maybe I was wrong about him, too. He hasn't come running back to the one person who could forgive him for being an idiot. He came back to the chump whose eyes he could so easily pull the wool over." Hutch stood up. "I hope he'll be wrong about that, but he's a pretty smooth con-artist. I don't suppose you could find out some details about why he left San Fran, could you?"

"I'll see what I can come up with." Dobey told him.

"Thanks, Captain," Hutch said, then left the office.

Starsky sat slumped down at the booth that he and Richie where sitting at, the noises of the bar all seemed to blur together - after four beers a lot of things were starting to blur.

Richie swatted his hand playfully with the back of his own. "Want another one, amigo?" he asked.

"Only if you're still payin’."

"Of course. It's the least I can do." He waved the waitress over and ordered two more beers. Once she'd gone, he added "I can't help feeling a little responsible for your recent problems with Hutchinson."

"Don't wanna talk 'bout that." Starsky mumbled, fiddling with the packet of matches that sat in a little container on the table.

"Who's talking about it? Geez you're defensive today! I was just sayin' that I'm sorry if any of it is *my* fault. He just seems to get awfully uptight around me. I guess I just rub him the wrong way."

"Guess so." Starsky said, shortly, and took the last swig of his beer. "So ... he'll run off and find himself a new partner ..." he added sadly. "nothing new there ..."

Richie pursed his lips, then took a swig of his fresh beer just as the waitress set it down. He placed the glass on the table, then looked up. "Hutchinson is getting a new partner?"

Starsky shrugged. "Don't know ... kinda seems like he wants one ...*last* quarter … don't know."

"Last quarter? Like the end of a football game? You two have some weird analogies for stuff," Richie commented as he took another drink.

"No, not like no football game ... just ..." Starsky shook his head. "Can't explain it." he took a long drink of the beer. "And getting sick of tryin' to 'splain everythin'."

"Why should you 'splain everything?" Richie said. "You don't owe anybody any explanations. You're a smart guy and a good cop. You get the job done without whining and bitching about the measures that need to be taken sometimes. Next time Hutchinson comes around *bothering* you about shit, tell 'in to go to hell!"

"Tell him yourself," Hutch said. After his talk with Dobey, he went to find Starsky and found him right where he thought he might. He'd caught the last bit of the conversation as he strode up to the table. He enjoyed the surprised look on Barker's

face, and slid into the booth on Starsky's side, squeezing in next to him.

"'Kay ..." Starsky glanced and Hutch, with a drunken smile. "Go ta hell ..." he said teasingly, offering Hutch a drink of his beer.

Hutch accepted the glass without batting an eye and took a swallow of the cold liquid, then handed it wordlessly back to Starsky. He looked at him. "Hope you don't mind the intrusion," he said. "I had to get out of the station. The rumourmill is working overtime and it was driving me crazy."

Starsky slung an arm around Hutch's shoulder, leaning drunkenly against him - feeling more drunk then he should after so few beers but a mix of drunkenness and exhaustion intensified the drunk feelings. "All the birdies still singing?" Starsky asked 'singing' the last word to emphasize his statement.

"Like it's going out of style," Hutch told him, ruffling his hair. Then he looked at Barker. "You wouldn't *believe* the things they're saying about *you* now. But then, they never really liked you much, so I wouldn't put too much stock in it." He picked up Starsky's glass and had another drink.

Barker watched him with a gleam of hatred in his eye. Starsky had been all his a second ago, until the big blond came waltzing in and ruined it just by sitting down. "What have 'they' been saying about me?" Barker asked. "Out of curiosity."

Hutch shrugged. "Lots of things I find really hard to believe."

Starsky took a drink of the beer. "Probably all the same old rumours." he looked at Hutch questioned. "Guess ya wouldn't know if'n they were old or new ..." he took another swig of the beer. "Sayin anythin’ 'bout me?" he asked curiously.

"Not much. Mostly they're talking about Barker, here. In fact," he laughed. "Get this - this is so absurd, I have to share this with you." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "They're saying that, on that last case of yours, that *you*," he gestured to Barker, "were actually on the take. They're saying you were playing both sides and that beating up Starsky was just to distract him so he wouldn't find out." He leaned back in his seat and grinned as though he'd just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard. "Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? Funny what rumours become when you have a space

of *years* following an event."

"Not at all funny ... same old rumour. Didn't think it was funny then and still don't think it's funny now." Starsky said. "It was all just to solve the fuckin' case ... like youda done different ..."

"Hey," Hutch said to Starsky, putting up his hands defensively. "I said I didn't believe it." He pushed Starsky's beer over infront of him more. "Drink your beer." He turned to Barker. "You know, I think I was wrong about you. You're a dedicated man. A stronger man than me. I don't think I could have done it. No, I'm sure. I could *not* have beat the living crap out of Starsky just to collar some lousy thug."

"Not like it made it a difference to anyone." Starsky mumbled and took a long drink of the beer, finishing the glass. He wished he had more to drink, enough to drink that he could pass out and not being this conversation - or even listening to it.

"It makes a difference to somebody now, Starsk. Is there a statute of limitations on caring why somebody beat up your best friend?"

"Guess not." Starsky said. "Though it don't matter in this case ... cause it was just a case."

Hutch smiled. "That's very good," he said. "Did you do that on purpose?"

Starsky looked at Hutch with a puzzled expression. "Do what?"

Hutch's smile broadened to a grin. "Nevermind," he said. His grin faded as he looked to Barker again. "So, anyway, you seem to be a regular rumour-magnet. You should hear the rumours that have blown in from San Fransisco lately."

Barker's look darkened. "Who have you been talking to in San Fran?"

"Little birdies, remember? Actually, *my* Captain called *your* Captain and they had a chat. Your arrest record with them was very good. Your late partner was quite proud of it. Tell me, do you just have bad luck or is it more some subconscious

need you have to destroy everything you touch?" Hutch's voice had developed a bit of edge. Barker's look had developed into a sort of seething hatred.

"What kinda bad luck?" Starsky asked looking back and forth between the two men for whichever one of them would tell him what they were talking about. "Destroying 'what'?"

"You know why he put in a transfer request?" Hutch told Starsky. He owed his partner the truth, no matter how badly Starsk didn't want to hear it. "Captain Dawson over at the SFPD made it pretty plain that it was necessary for him to transfer. Nobody in the department would work with him. Not one person. His last partner, the late Don Wallis, was undercover with him. They found him in a warehouse with a big bullet hole where most of his head used to be."

"I lost track of Don! I didn't know his cover'd been blown! I don't even know what he was *doing* in that damn warehouse that night. He didn't tell *me* he was going there!"

Starsky looked pale. "Should I even ask what the setup was?" he asked quietly, unconsciously shifting a little closer to Hutch. "Don't think I really even need to, it was the same thing wasn't it ... you killed him all in the name of solving the case ..."

Barker looked at Starsky with a look of unmitigated disbelief. "How can you think that, Davey? How can you *think* that?" He was starting to raise his voice, but didn't seem to notice. "This paranoid so-called *friend* of yours comes in here half-telling a bunch of unfounded rumours and outright *lies* and you just *buy* them? I didn't kill him, Davey. I didn't kill him!!"

"No," Hutch said quietly. "You didn't shoot him. But you set him up. When your cover was at risk of being blown, you handed them your partner instead. I'm sure you didn't think they'd necessarily kill the poor bastard, but you told them you'd found out

he was a cop - you didn't tell him that you'd told them - and you let him die. You didn't shoot him... but you killed him as surely as if you'd pulled the trigger."

"Hutch don't lie." Starsky informed Richie. "At least not to me." Starsky glanced at Hutch. "Because he's no good at that ... I can tell when he's lying ... and he's not. You let him die just like you ..." Starsky closed his eyes for a brief moment and drew a deep breath and slowly released it. "You left me to die. Was it you who blew my cover? And I want the fucking truth for once."

"I didn't blow your cover. And once it was blown, what was I supposed to do? I was their hired muscle. I did what hired muscle does. You understood that then."

"Then maybe you should have left it at that," Hutch informed him. "Once you got here, did you really think I'd let you have a second crack at finishing off my partner?"

"You've been the annoying, unreasonable pain in my ass since I got here, Hutchinson. And what about Davey? Why are you *doing* this to him? You go on and on about how you couldn't hurt him - what the hell do you think you're doing now?"

"I *accepted* I didn't exactly *understand* ... and I still don't. You say how emotional attachment will get a person killed when things go wrong on a case ... I kinda believed that then because all any emotional attachment did *ever* was to fuck things up worse. So I played the partner game by *your* rules." Starsky paused for moment and placed a hand on Hutch's shoulder, for a moment. "Now I play by *our* rules." Starsky rubbed a hand over his face, he didn't want to be having this conversation but he knew that it could no longer be avoided. He looked across the table at Richie. "I know you never believed in any sort of *emotional* involvement when it came to a partnership ... and I was willing to play it that way, because it was *safer* ... at least emotionally it was safer." Starsky paused for a moment and glanced at Hutch. "But, that's not the way I want to play it now ... it's safer knowing your partner will do everything possible to watch your back ... even when your cover is blown." Starsky drew a deep breath and slowly released it, staring at his empty glass for a moment. "I *accepted* what happened, I didn't exactly *understand* why ... I still don't think I really understand that part ..."

Richie stared at him with a look that had become almost beseeching. "Davey, I never said there was no emotional... attachment in our partnership. I just said that it couldn't get in the way of the case. You agreed about that. We're here to do a job. We agreed to risk our lives to do it..."

"We agree to the risk," Hutch interjected. "None of us is here to just *throw* our lives away!"

Richie turned on Hutch practically spitting venom. "Who *asked* you, Hutchinson? I was talking to Davey! When I want to talk to *you*, I'll... probably kill myself," he said nastily.

"He's entitled to share his opinion here too." Starsky said firmly, the whole conversation was really starting to try his patience, and he really wished they weren't sitting in the middle of a public place. "There is always a risk that comes with

doing the job but ... you're only suppose to be worrying about the bad guys killin' ya ... not your partner."

"Davey, I felt I could go as far as I did, because you trusted me not to kill you," Barker pleaded.

Starsky shrugged. "I guess ..." his voice trailed off for moment, he just stared at the empty glass not looking at Richie nor Hutch.

Hutch rolled his eyes in irritation. "That's good," he said to Barker. "Keep playing the same old game. It always works, doesn't it?" He turned to Starsky. "Starsk, he's *playing* you. He's a con artist and he's *playing* you!"

"I'm still alive ain't I?" Starsky questioned to neither in particular. "He *didn't* kill me, just left me for ...for someone to find." it was obvious that he changed what he was about to say before the words had left his mouth.

"If they hadn't found you before I left, Davey, I would have phoned them when it was safe to tell them where you were," Barker said.

"Before leaving for where?" Starsky asked quietly, they had never discussed anything to do with how anyone had found him in the truck - and he had found it easier to let himself think Richie had told someone rather then it having all been chance.

"For the *night*. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to go to all that trouble, to do that to you, then blow it all by picking up the phone in their own building and calling the cop shop?"

"It was longer then just *overnight* it was *days*."

"The shipment had just come in. You know that, Davey. You were *there*. We had to stick around until it was distributed. And I had to stay under until I had something hard that would stick in court."

"I've had enough of this conversation." Starsky said tiredly. "Move, Hutch."

Hutch obliged, sliding out of the booth. He followed Starsky just out of Barker's earshot, put his arm around his shoulder and leaned his forehead against his partner's temple. "I'm sorry," he whispered, then let go and walked to the door ahead of Starsky.

Starsky paused for a moment as though he were going to look back at Richie, then seemed to change his mind and followed Hutch outside.

Hutch turned to go to where he'd parked his car, but he'd heard the door open again behind him and lingered on the sidewalk infront of the bar.

Starsky walked over to stand in front of Hutch, his eyes cast downward on the sidewalk the whole time. "Which car?"

"I'm in the parking garage," he said. "Where are you parked?"

"'Round the corner." Starsky said, waving his hand in the vague direction of where he had parked.

"Striped Tomato it is," Hutch said, patting Starsky on the side before moving in the vague direction that Starsky had indicated.

"Wanna drive?"

Hutch grinned. "Nah. I like the adrenaline rush of doubting whether or not I'm going to make it."

"Doubtful." Starsky mumbled, there wasn't even the slightest flicker of a smile or a retort that would usually come from the dark haired man when his partner teased in this manor.

Hutch took the keys from Starsky's hand. "If your sense of humour is hurting, maybe I'd better drive after all," Hutch said. The remark was gentle but without the levity that would usually accompany it.

Starsky didn't even argue, he hadn't felt at like driving, figuring if he did he would no doubt end up crashing as his mind was too preoccupied on everything else to concentrate on the road. "Thanks." Starsky whispered, though wasn't sure exactly *what* he was thanking his friend for.

Hutch drove, but not to the police station. A short while later they pulled up infront of Starsky's apartment building and he cut the engine.

Starsky opened the door and moved to get out, the paused. "You can use the car to drive back to work ... or go get your car ... or whatever ..." he told Hutch then finished getting out and closed the door.

Hutch got out and followed Starsky to the door.

"I told you ya can go wherever." Starsky said, searching his pockets for his keys for moment, forgetting Hutch had them, giving up he took the spare key from it's hiding place.

Hutch gently took him by the arm before he opened the door, and placed the keys in his hand.

Starsky went inside and made his way into the kitchen, sorting through his cupboards in attempts to find something stronger then the beer that was in the fridge. He didn't even glance to see if Hutch had came inside behind him or had left. Hutch shut the door quietly, and stood awkwardly just inside, saying nothing and looking a little ashamed.

"Damnit." Starsky muttered, as he started to toss things out of cupboards as he continued the desperate search.

He wanted to do nothing more then to get so drunk that he passed out and could forget about the pain.

"Can't find what you're looking for?" Hutch asked quietly.

"What the hell does it look it? Of course I *can't* find what I'm looking for." Starsky said angrily, turning to whip a half finished box of C'pn Crunch cereal in Hutch's direction.

The box glanced off his shoulder as he turned slightly in an attempt to avoid it. "Okay, I'll just... sorry," he stammered. "I'll go." He looked like he wanted to move towards Starsky, but he stopped himself. "I'll go," he repeated and turned to open the door.

"Don't." Starsky said quietly.

Hutch stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He leaned forward, letting his forehead fall against the door for a moment, then he turned around slowly.

"Just ... don't go." Starsky said, he leaned against the fridge and slowly sank down to the floor. "Unless ... you ... want to."

Hutch walked over into the kitchen. "Did I look like I wanted to?" he said, standing in front of his partner. He looked at him a long moment, then lowered himself to the floor beside him.

Starsky shrugged tiredly. "Wouldn't ya blame ya for wanting to."

Hutch closed his eyes for a second and smiled tiredly. "You can't get rid of me that easily," he said, trying to joke but it came out a little shaky.

"What would you have done?" Starsky asked, quietly, glancing at Hutch from the corner of his eye.

Hutch sighed. "Well, I don’t know all the facts about the situation. I admit that. But *I* would have dragged your sorry ass into and alley somewhere, made several cutting remarks, fired a shot or two into something lying around, then ... you would have been in charge of the back-up," Hutch told him. "Though I'm not sure I believe his vehement assertion that he hadn't blown your cover himself, so maybe we wouldn't have had to deal with the situation. At any rate, I'd like to think you know me well enough to guess what I would have done in his place," Hutch said thoughtfully.

"That's the worse part about dealing with it now ..."

"What is?" Hutch asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Knowing what you'd do ... how different that is then what he did. " Starsky said, and leaned, almost seemingly unconsciously, against Hutch. "Trying to assess the situation through ... different eyes, or something."

Hutch looked at his hands. "Well those other eyes - the ones that looked at it then - those were my fault. Maybe that's what's really killing me about how much you're beating yourself up over this."

"Wasn't your fault, you had nothing do with what happened."

"Not directly. I know what happened to you then wasn't my fault, exactly. But this is. What's going on now. I'm not the only perpetrator, but I've played my part."

"Why’da say that? Because you found out why he left 'Frisco and made a sc-and told me? I would've found that out eventually ... and I think I'd rather heard it from you."

"I could have been more discreet in doing that," Hutch conceded, "but that's not even what I'm talking about. Barker was right about one thing - I've been on his case since he got here. Ever since he got here I've had this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that, one way or another, he was going to take you away from me. And I haven't been at all civil to him. He was your friend. I could have done that much for you."

"How could you even think he'd take me away? That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard." There was a small flicker of smile on his lips though it never reached his eyes. "It's not like he's been civil to you either ... feels like the same old game with reversed roles, kinda, don't it?"

"I'm sick of the game," Hutch said with an exhausted sigh.

"Me too." Starsky said, he turned slightly to glanced fully at Hutch. "I just don't know how to end it, this time."

Hutch shrugged. "My big mouth's been enough trouble. I'm not going to try and tell you what to do." He turned his head to return Starsky's gaze. "But when you decide, I'll still be here if you want me to."

"That's the one thing I know for sure ... I want you here." A ghost of a smile played across Starsky's lips. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

Hutch reached over and gave his partner a hug.

Starsky slid an arm around Hutch, returning the hug, finding so comfort in the friendly embrace - knowing it was more then he would've found from a bottle. "Just ... don't leave, 'kay?" Starsky asked in a hushed whispered, sounding like a frightened child whose best friend was about to move away.

"I'll stay right here," he answered. "Promise."

"Why ... why the hell did he try ... try to kill me?" Starsky asked, his words slightly choked as he fought to keep the tears that burned in his eyes from falling. "Why?"

"Starsk," Hutch said quietly, rubbing his back almost unconsciously. "I don't think he meant to. I think he could have avoided it, but in his head... I think he really believed he didn't have a choice."

"I trusted him ... he almost ... he tried to ... I almost died ... and nobody would've cared ... who cares if one cop dies as long as the bad guy is caught, I guess that's all that matters." Starsky and started to slowly pull away from Hutch.

Hutch allowed Starsky to pull himself out of his grip. He looked at him sharply. "You know that's not true," he said evenly.

"It's the truth. He knew it ...that's why he did whatever it took to keep his cover and catch the bad guy." Starsky said, his voice matching Hutch's tone. "Nobody would've cared if I died then - if anything it would've just made things easier for everyone."

"Don't talk like that," Hutch said, his voice growing tense. "Don't do that to yourself."

"Don't do *what*? Deny the *truth*?"

"Don't beat yourself up over something that's dead in the past and wasn't your fault to *begin* with!" Hutch said, his voice raised in frustration.

"I wish I had die-" Starsky started to say, stopping himself before he finished. "I can't do this to Hutch ... can't unload my problems on him ... he deserves a partner that ain't fucked up" He thought to himself. Starsky sighed deeply. "Maybe you should

go."

Hutch just stared at him. He hadn't heard anything past "I wish I had die-" He sat on the floor of Starsky's kitchen looking at him with wide slightly horrified eyes.

"Hutch?" Starsky questioned in a soft almost cautious tone. "You look like you seen a ghost or something, you okay?" his tone change to one of pure concern.

"I don't know," Hutch said weakly. "Were you saying what I thought you were saying?"

"Saying what?" Starsky asked normally he could follow what Hutch meant easily, but he felt too drained to even try to decipher what Hutch meant.

"You said you wished you'd died," Hutch said, his voice a whisper now.

"I don't know." Starsky admitted honestly. "It seems that'd been easier ... for so many people."

"Never say that," Hutch said, his face pale. "Never say that.

"Why not? All I have been able to think about lately is what happened then ... and about laying half dead in the back of a truck waiting for death ... I stopped waiting for a rescue and started waiting for death. But not even death would come for me because I didn't matter. Even if ‘he’ had came he'd just kept on going he'd left me there ... everyone always leaves ..." by this time Starsky was rambling, he blinked back the tears.

Hutch dropped his face into his hands. "I told you so," Hutch said. "I told you I'd played my part. How many times do I have to apologize for it? It can never be right again, can it? It can never be okay again. I probably deserve that, but *you* don't."

"Hutch ..." Starsky said, he took Hutch's hands into his own and pulled them away from the blonde’s face. He turned Hutch's head so that they were face to face. "Don't."

Hutch managed a weak smile and squeezed the hands that held his. "Only if you don't. Fair's fair."

"I didn't mean to upset you ... I hadn't intended to go off like that and ... I didn't mean it, Hutch. I don't wish I had died back then ... at least not since you came back into my life." Starsky gave a small smile. "You're right, you played your part - the part of making me live again."

"It's the least I could do after driving you half-suicidal."

"By what? Being my partner?" Starsky teased.

Hutch smiled a real smile for the first time in what seemed like a week. He reached around and squeezed Starsky's shoulder. His expression sobered slightly. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"Not really ... though I guess I should talk to Barker." Starsky said.

Hutch nodded. "And probably without Big Mouth standing over your shoulder," he said self-deprecatingly. "But I'll be around. Don't think for a second that I'd be anywhere but nearby."

"You better be." Starsky said firmly. "I'll need you to be." he added in almost a whisper.

Hutch didn't say anything. He just reached out and gave his partner another hug.

Starsky sat on the couch sipping at a beer, the mess he had made earlier was cleaned up, with a little help from Hutch. He had called Richie and asked him to come over so they could finish their conversation. Now there was nothing to do but sit and wait for Barker to arrive, though he was having second thoughts about agreeing with Hutch that he should leave.

Barker knocked on the door, wondering what the game was. Davey had walked out of the bar after Hutchinson, and now he wanted to talk to Barker. He stood warily infront of his ex-partner's door and waited for it to open.

Starsky pushed himself up off the couch and moved to answer the door. "Hey." he greeted the older man, stepping aside so that Barker could enter.

Barker sauntered in. "So what is it you think we have to talk about? I think you made yourself pretty clear when you made that big show of solidarity with Hutchinson, then staggered out of the bar with him."

"There is a lot that we need to talk about." Starsky said simply, and looked at Richie. "A lot we should've talked about back then."

Richie took a deep breath and dropped himself onto the couch. "If you're going to get all delvy, do you mind getting me a beer?"

Starsky paused for a moment, considering telling Richie if he wanted a beer he should 'get off his lazy ass' and get it for himself - at least that is what he would do if it were Hutch. He decided against it and moved to the fridge and retrieved two beers. He walked over to the couch and handed one beer to Richie, then moved to sit on a chair facing Barker with his own beer.

"So what is it you want me to tell you, Davey? We've been through what happened before. Do you want me to tell you that I'm sorry? I've been sorry every damn minute of my life since that day. I don't know what else there is to say."

"How about for starters you quit calling me 'Davey'." Starsky said in an annoyed tone.

Richie raised his eyebrows. "Never bothered you before," he commented calmly. "But as you like." He took a drink of his beer. "What do you *want* me to call you?"

"Actually it *did* bother me Barkie." Starsky said flatly.

"Well you should have said something sooner," Barker answered. "Maybe it could have saved some hard feelings." He paused for a moment. "You didn't answer my question, David."

"Which question would that be?"

"What do you *want* me to call you?"

"You really don't know too much about me if you have to ask that question."

Barker smiled. "I clearly don't know you at all. I thought you could introduce yourself and maybe we could start this conversation clean." He took a drink. "I could call you 'Starsk', but I imagine that particular diminutive is reserved for your blond boyfriend."

Starsky gave Barker a look that was cold enough to freeze boiling water instantly. It wasn't that he cared about the insinuation (after all it wasn't the first time someone had said such a thing) but it was the tone in which Richie said it, not to mention he was using it to change the subject. "Well, colleagues call me, Starsky, and since we are 'colleagues' ..."

"Yes, now we're 'colleagues', aren't we? You didn't used to be such a fair weather friend, Starsky."

"And just what would you know about friendship?"

"I know when it's getting away," Barker whispered, looking down at his drink.

"Look, maybe you were right, perhaps we should restart this conversation."

Barker looked up. "I never meant to hurt you," he said. "I got carried away, I know that. I've been dying of shame since that day. I hope you believe that."

"Why did you get carried away?" Starsky asked quietly. "Why did you take it that far?"

"I don't *know*," answered earnestly. "I've been asking myself the same question and I don't know. It was like I was in some kind of trance or something. Suddenly I just saw the task at hand. It was *faceless*, y'know? I couldn't have done it if I'd personalized it, if I had seen it as *you*. It must have been some kind of unconscious defense-mechanism."

Starsky stood up and started pacing. "Defense against what? Not getting your cover blown? Saving yourself?" He stopped pacing and looked at Barker. "I don't get how you could make it 'unpersonal'. I mean ..." his voice trailed off as found he couldn't put what he meant into words.

"I was focused on the case, Da.. Starsky. And I acted wrongly. Atrociously. Unforgivably. I admit that much. But it was never meant to be an act against you. I know it must have felt like a horrible betrayal of trust. But it wasn't a personal attack," he faltered. He'd almost called him Davey again, and, catching himself, didn't feel like he could call him anything at all. "It was all a means to an end. An end that was meant to justify the means and just... didn't."

"And if they told you to simply kill me ... would you have?" Starsky asked quietly, not really sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Would I have killed you? Damn it, Davey," he said, forgetting himself, "you're the only friend I've ever had in my life. I'd like to think I wouldn't be capable of *that*, miserable bastard that I am."

"And if that's how you treat your friends I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies." Starsky said with a bland chuckle.

Barker allowed himself a self-deprecating laugh. "I'll leave if you want me to, D.. Starsky. But don't send me away hating me, will you?"

"I don't hate you." Starsky said sincerely. "I just ... I don't know. It doesn't make anymore sense now then it did back then."

"Because it was a senseless act, Starsky. You've got the scars, so to speak, but I'm the one who has to live with having *committed* it. And not just on any old human being hanging around the warehouse, either. On my best friend. How shitty do you think that makes a man feel? Do you think someone who does that can ever look himself in the mirror again?"

Starsky stopped pacing and sat down on the couch beside Barker. "Is that why you left?"

"That's why I left. That's why I never called or wrote. I expected you to hate me for what I did, Davey. I just didn't want to know for sure, so I made sure I didn't find out."

"I don't hate you. I never did." Starsky said, unconsciously laying a hand on Barker's shoulder. "If you stayed and talked to me about this back then you would've known that."

Barker let out another self-deprecating laugh. "There was that possibility, my boy, but I didn't like the odds. And I split. But then, I'm kind of known for my bad decisions, no?"

"Yeah, I'd have to agree with you there." Starsky said, with a slight smile touching his lips. "It was my good decisions that kept us afloat."

Barker smiled and nodded ruefully. "I walked into that one." He got up and turned around to face Starsky. "I'll go now. See you tomorrow at the station."

"No, I doubt you will."

Barker froze. "How's that?"

"Because by then Dobey will have you working with someone else."

"I see," Barker said stonily. "Well, say hi to Hutch for me then," he added glibly and hurried out of the apartment.

Starsky sighed and leaned back against the couch. "Oh now that went real fucking well." he mumbled to the empty apartment.

Hutch sat in his apartment uneasily. He didn't feel right about leaving Starsk to talk to Barker alone in his apartment. It made him nervous. There was still something in Barker that Hutch distrusted deeply. He picked up the phone and dialed Starsky's number.

Starsky answered the phone. "Hello." his voice very monotone, lacking any of the usual 'vigor' he answered with.

"Starsk?" Hutch furrowed his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked. The unspoken 'you don't sound okay' hung in the spaces between the words.

"Perfectly fine. Why wouldn't I be?" he challenged.

"Starsk, take it easy. I only asked if you were okay," Hutch answered, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm fine, Hutch." Starsky said, not sure if it was Hutch he was trying to convince or himself.

"Is Barker still there?"

"He left a couple minutes ago."

Hutch fell silent for a moment. "Do you want me to come over?" he asked quietly, expecting to be told that Starsky wanted to be alone.

"You don't have to."

"I'll be there in 20 minutes," Hutch said.

"'Kay." Starsky said, sounding slightly more cheerful then he had before.

Hutch hurried out of his cottage and got in his car. He didn't notice when, about 10 minutes later, a car that had been heading towards him turned around in a gas station and started to follow him. He didn't really pay any heed of the car behind him at all, until it came up beside him and cut over sharply. He managed to turn down an alley to avoid a head-on collision with a brick wall. The other car, a non-descript grey sedan, had backed up and followed him into the alley, he noticed. Looking back at the road ahead of him, he noticed that this particular alley ended very abruptly in a brick wall as well. He slammed on the brakes, but it didn't do a lot of good as the grey sedan caught up and rammed him from behind, sending the front of his car hard into the brick wall. He hit his head painfully on the steering wheel before losing consciousness.

Starsky glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time in the past minute alone. Hutch was over 20 minutes late and he a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to phone his partner again, praying that the problem was just Hutch's car refusing to start, or something simple like that. After ten rings, with no answer, he hung up. "Where the hell are you, partner?"

Two hours later, Barker knocked on Starsky's door again, his face grave.

Starsky hurried to answer the door. "Hu-"he started stopping when he saw Barker standing there. "What ...?"

Barker bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Davey. I thought you should... I didn't want to tell you over the phone..."

Starsky leaned a hand against the doorframe to steady himself, his worry for his 'missing' partner had already passed mere worry long ago and was now full fledge panic. "Wh-what happened?"

"I was driving home. I'd been to get something to eat after I talked to you and I was driving home, when I saw this grey sedan pulling out of an alley up ahead. Well, the front end was all bunged up. It looked like it'd been in an accident. I tried to get the driver's attention, but it just took off at full speed and out of sight before you could say 'oil change'. Well, it struck me as odd, so I pulled over to the alley to maybe see what was going on and there was another car in there. A light brown Ford... I-I thought it looked a lot like Hutchinson's car, though I'd only seen it the once. I went up to the driver's side to

see if anyone was inside it. The front end was all crumpled up. It looked like it hit the wall at a pretty high speed. I looked in the window and... it was... blond hair and blood, mostly. I ran out of the alley and called an ambulance. They rushed him to hospital and I came straight here. I thought you might want a ride over there.... I didn't.... I mean, we weren't getting along, but I would never wish... " His voice broke a bit, trailing off. "It shocked the hell out of me," he finished quietly. "The first thing I thought of was getting you over there to the hospital. I know that's what he'd want."

Starsky just stared at Barker as though he either hadn't heard a word the other man had said, or simply hadn't understood any of it. He want to think that this was a dream brought on by his worry of Hutch not being there on time and that at any minute he'd be woke up by the sound of Hutch banging on the door. But, he knew he wasn't a dream. After a moment he finally blinked, a slight tremor ran over his body and he felt cold despite the heat of the day. "How ... bad ... I gotta there ..." Starsky stammered rushing outside past Barker, barely seeming to remember to close the door behind him.

Barker hurried after him. "Uh, buddy?" he said, gently guiding him over to the black two-door parked at the curb. "You're not in any condition to drive right now. Let me." He opened the passenger door for Starsky. "Last thing we need is *both* of the city's top cops in the emergency room, right?" He closed the door after Starsky got in and ran around to the driver's side. 15 minutes later they arrived at the hospital.

Starsky fidgeted nervously the whole ride to the hospital, hating how slowly Richie seemed to be driving. The car had barely came to a stop before Starsky was out of the car and running into the hospital. He grabbed the first nurse that he came across. "Where is he?" Starsky asked, not even thinking to tell her who 'he' was.

The nurse stared at him, clearly frightened.

"My partner ... Hutch ... Ken Hutchinson ... he was in a car accident and was brought here. Where is he?"

"Hutchinson? The police officer?"

Starsky nodded, his blue eyes begging her for the answer. "Where is he?" Starsky asked again, clearly distraught and genuinely concerned for the man in question.

"The doctor is examining him now," the nurse said, now speaking in that gentle but firm nursely way. "He had a head injury, among other things. I really don't know more than that except that the doctor was optimistic that surgery wouldn't be necessary. You'll have to wait in the waiting room," she said, pointing to a room of chairs that were visible through a wide doorway across from where they were standing. "I'll tell the doctor that you're here. When he's finished with the patient, he'll come talk to you."

"Uh, yeah ..." Starsky glanced at the waiting room, he hated hospital waiting rooms. "Thanks." he said, giving her an apologetic look before moving off towards the room.

Barker followed him and sat down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he'll be fine," he said reassuringly. "If nothing else, he strikes me as a pretty tough cookie."

"Hutch is tough." Starsky said, more to remind himself of that then to inform Richie of that fact. He stared at the door as though willing the doctor to walk in.

"You wanna cup of coffee?" Richie asked gently.

"Not really ... just want to see Hutch." Starsky said, speaking the last part in a whisper.

Richie patted him on the shoulder and leaned back in his chair. "You'll see him soon," he said. "And in a hell of a lot better shape than the last time *I* saw him. I can only thank God you weren't there."

"Wish I had been." Starsky said quietly. He stood up and stared pacing back and forth, growing tired already of the waiting. "Maybe if I had been the one driving ... this accident wouldn't have happened or ..." his voice trailed off for a moment. "If I hadn't asked him to come over ... he'd be safe at home now."

"He was going to see you?" Richie asked in slight surprise.

Richie nodded sympathetically. "I know we had a bit of a ... conversation of hard truths. I can understand that you'd have wanted some company after all that."

"I shoulda just dealt it with on my own and not ... if I told him not to come ... he'd be at home right now and not laying on some hospital bed." Starsky said, blaming himself for Hutch's car accident. "Or I should've went to his place, maybe then I'd been the one in the accident."

Richie leveled a look at him. "Do you really think things would be better if *you* were lying in there and *he* was sitting out here feeling rotten? Come on, Davey, you know better."

"I would rather it be me in there and not Hutch." Starsky said firmly.

"And he would rather it was him than you. I haven't been here that long, but I've figured out that much. It's very touching," he said, his voice *almost* bordering on sarcasm.

Starsky didn't notice any sarcasm in Barker's voice, nor did he reply. "Where the hell is that doctor already?"

"He's in there patching up your friend, Davey, cut him some slack."

Starsky paled slightly at Richie's words. "Was it that ... that bad?"

"Well, I'm no doctor, Davey, but he was a real mess. Of course, it might have looked worse than it was. You know it can look when there's a lot of blood. And it *did* really shock me, so it might have *looked* worse to me than it was..."

Starsk drew a deep breath, fighting back the worried tears that burned in his eyes as his mind played out all the worst case scenarios. "I should've been there ..."

"And done *what*? Got yourself a matching head injury? You can't beat yourself up about this, Davey. Whatever happens."

"I shoulda been there watching out for him. He's my *partner* ... my responsibility to keep him safe ... my ... my fault." Starsky said, almost yelling by the time he finished.

"No, Davey. What happened to you all those years ago - *that* was *my* fault. What happened to Hutchinson tonight, though - that was not your fault. That was the fault, I suspect, of whoever was driving that grey sedan I saw burning rubber away from the accident scene."

"When I find whoever was driving that car I'll ..." Starsky said angrily, not finishing the threat.

Barker laid a hand on Starsky's arm. "I know," he said softly. "I'll help you." He looked down. "Hutchinson isn't exactly my favourite person on the planet, but nobody deserves to get run down like that. Especially not a cop."

"Thanks." Starsky said quietly. "I just wish the doctor would get here."

Barker looked up to see a distinguished looking man in a white coat walk into the room holding a clipboard. He nudged Starsky in the ribs gently as the doctor approached.

"How is he, doc?" Starsky asked worriedly.

"He's not too bad, all things considered," the doctor answered.

"Can I see him?"

"You can see him in a few minutes." The doctor moved to sit down next to Starsky. "He has a concussion. He did regain consciousness while we were examining him, though we had to give him some painkillers and he's sleeping right now. He broke his left wrist, sustained a deep bruise to his right shoulder and his right ankle was mildly sprained on impact. Now, when I say you can see him, that's what I *mean*. You can have a couple of minutes, but he needs to rest right now so you'll leave when you're told, agreed?"

"Yeah, sure." Starsky agreed, though he had no real intentions of leaving once he finally was in the room with Hutch.

The doctor looked at him sternly. "You can spend more time with him tomorrow, if you like. But a prolonged visit tonight could adversely affect his recovery," the doctor told him firmly.

"I just want too *see* him. I have to know for myself that he's really okay."

"Alright," the doctor said. "The nurse will show you to the room," he said, gesturing towards the outer room they'd come in through.

Starsky nodded and practically ran to get the nurse to show him to Hutch's room. Starsky only seemed to slow down once he reached the room, and entered quietly. He made his way over to the bed and lightly brushed a lock of Hutch's blond hair off his forehead, as he tried hard not to look at his friend's injuries. Hutch's eyes fluttered for a second, but they didn't open. He stirred slightly.

"Sh, Hutch. Just rest, buddy." Starsky said, his hand lightly resting atop Hutch's. "You're gonna be okay, you're thick head came in handy for once." he teased lightly, though his voice betrayed him with a slight tremor that bespoke of just how worried he had been, and still was.

Hutch stirred again, like he wanted to wake up to reassure his partner, but he couldn't.

"Just rest, Hutch. The doc said ... he said rest will do you good." Starsky sighed. "Not like I did any good ... I'm sorry, Hutch." again he brushed his fingers across Hutch's forehead as to push back a lock of Hutch's soft blonde hair – even though there was none there. His fingers rested against the side of Hutch's head for a long moment. "I am not going to leave you tonight without a fight."

Barker had quietly entered the room while Starsky was murmuring comfort to Hutch. He stood in the doorway. "Davey," he said softly, "Doc says it's time to go for the night. He says you can come back in the morning. That Hutchinson will probably be awake again then."

"I'm not leaving." Starsky said, his voice quiet and firm, his eyes never leaving Hutch.

"Davey, you *have* to. If you don't come on now, they'll have security drag your ass out and they won't let you come back tomorrow."

"I am *not* going to leave Hutch here alone." Starsky said even more firmly then before. "I don't care what the doctor says, he don't know anything about *this* ... it's better if I stay."

Barker came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I can see I'm not going to win this argument. I'll go see if I can't convince the Doc to let you stay. And I'll come by tomorrow morning with something to eat, okay?"

Starsky nodded slightly. "Thanks."

Barker looked back over his shoulder at Starsky when he reached the doorway. He shook his head, then continued on his way. Starsky leaned closer to the bed, lightly holding Hutch's hand in his offering strength and reassurance to his sleeping friend.

Richie walked into Hutch's hospital room the next morning to see Starsky asleep in the chair next to the bed, one hand limply lying on Hutch's arm, and Hutch staring out the window. Hutch turned and looked at the door, hearing the rustle of the paperbag Barker was carrying. His left hand was in a cast, but he raised it to his mouth to put a quieting finger to his lips. His right arm was under Starsky's hand and he didn't want Barker to wake Starsky up. Barker walked around

Hutch's bed and sat opposite Starsky. "Looks like he's been here all night," Hutch whispered. "I figure he needs the rest."

Barker looked up at Starsky, then shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Hutch was looking disappointingly well. "He has been here all night," Barker answered. His voice wasn't raised, but it wasn't exactly a whisper either. "I brought him some breakfast. You want some too?"

Hutch furrowed his brow. He'd asked Barker to be quiet. He looked over at Starsky to see if he was waking up.

Starsky shifted slightly, he faintly heard a voice and thought perhaps it was the doctor. He lifted his head groggily, the first thing he noticed was Hutch was awake. "You're awake." Starsky declared needlessly, though quite happily. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Hutch managed something resembling a shrug, tossed a brief glare in Barker's direction, then turned his attention back to Starsky. "How long have you been here?"

"Don't know ... all night I guess." Starsky said, just noticing Richie for the first time ."What's for breakfast?"

"Your favourite," he grinned. "Well, one of them - doughnuts and coffee... the coffee shop was fresh out of day-old cold pizza, though. Sorry," he joked.

"S'okay." Starsky said, his attention turning back fully to Hutch, his eyes seeming to look over his partner's injuries. "How you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a brick wall," he said dryly. "The doctor said that the concussion wasn't as serious as it could have been though. He said the blood from the gash on my forehead made it look worse than it was..." His voice trailed off and he looked a little uncomfortable.

"Actually you ran into the brick wall ... it didn't run over you." Starsky said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but was quick to fade. "Didn't see how bad it looked ... "

"Good," was all Hutch said. But he saw how Starsky's eyes kept flitting to the bruising on his face, the bandaged gash on his forehead, the cast on his wrist. He looked at him, waited to catch his eyes before he spoke. "The doctor also said I'm going to be fine. Full recovery. No harm, no foul."

Starsky just looked at Hutch for moment, then breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "What happened anyways?"

"I'm not really sure," Hutch said. "I was... it happened really fast. I was just driving along and suddenly this car pulls up beside me really fast and suddenly cut in towards me. I..." he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember. "I turned down this alley to avoid hitting a wall, then the other car started after me down the alley. That's when I noticed the wall. The alley was a dead-end. There was nothing but wall. So I went to hit the brakes and that's when it rammed me. I don't remember hitting the wall, but obviously I did. The doctor said I probably *won't* remember more than that. But the collision

was head-on. Apparently I'm really lucky."

"Whoever was driving that car is gonna wish they were the one that hit that wall by the time I'm done with 'em." Starsky vowed. He placed a hand against the side of Hutch's head for moment, communicating silently with his partner, expressing his gratefulness at Hutch's 'luck' before dropping his hand.

Barker watched the whole exchange with a non-committal, though somewhat amused, expression on his face. He stood up and handed the paperbag to Starsky. "Here, put some sustenance in your belly if you're going to sit here all day. I'm going to go to the station and see if there are any leads on that car yet."

"How could there be a lead on the car? I haven't described it," Hutch said, "I didn't even really get a good look at it."

Barker smiled. "I know, but *I* did." He didn't explain what he meant by that before walking out of the room. Hutch looked to Starsky.

"He saw this grey car with a banged in front coming out of an alley, real fast like, and decided to investigate. That's when he found your car ... he said you looked to be in bad shape ... and he went to call an ambulance." Starsky explained, digging a donut out of the bag as he did. "Want some?" he offered, holding the donut out to Hutch. "Then he came and told me ... don't know when the accident happened ... just that you were 2 hours late."

"And *Barker* found me?"

Starsky nodded, taking a big bite of the donut.

"He just happened to be in the neighborhood?" Hutch said, the incredulity in his voice gradually increasing.

"Yeah, he was driving around after ... or looking for somewhere to eat ... I forget which he said ... I kinda wasn't paying too close attention." he admitted.

"Oh. I guess I should be glad somebody found me so quickly," he said, though there was still a wariness to his tone.

"Yeah. If he hadn't ..." Starsky voice trailed off and he looked away from Hutch. "I sure wasn't there ..." he whispered, he couldn't help but blame himself for this whole mess.

Ignoring the pain that shot through his bruised shoulder when he moved it, he brought his hand up and turned Starsky's face to look him directly in the eyes. "Don't," he said. "There was nothing you could do and there's no harm done."

"You wouldn't have been out driving if I hadn't asked you over." Starsky said simply, even though he knew this was an 'argument' that wouldn't be won. "I should've known something was wrong when you were so late. I should've been out looking for you. Then you wouldn't have ..." Starsky paused for a moment. "How far away where you?"

"It doesn't matter, Starsk."

"Yeah, it does. How far away where you?"

"Better than half way," he said vaguely. "Too far away for you to have heard the crash, even if you were hanging your head out the window waiting for it. Just let it be, Starsk. There was nothing you could do. Stop beating yourself up about it." He leaned back on his pillows, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"So, you were maybe ten minutes away ... the other car was just leaving ... why was it 2 hours later?"

"Why was *what* two hours later?" he said tiredly.

"When Barker came to tell me about the accident ... it don't take that long to call an ambulance."

"Mmmm," Hutch answered. He'd lost his focus. He was struggling to stay awake and losing the battle.

"Why don't you just get some rest." Starsky suggested. "I'll go ask Richie these questions."

"Hmmm?" Hutch asked, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Sleep. I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

"Hmmm," Hutch confirmed lazily, as he slipped into sleep.

Starsky waited for a moment to be sure Hutch really was asleep before the leaving the room. "Just what in the hell really happened?" he wondered determined to find Richie and get some straight answers.

Richie saw Starsky stride purposefully into the Squad Room and came over to him. "Good news, Davey. They found the car. Of course, the bad news is that it was abandoned in the river..."

"Oh, and *who* exactly found the car?"

"Well, we had an APB out on it. Some uniforms spotted it sticking up from the water in that park on Fourth and called it in. It's being towed in to the forensics garage."

"It's a good thing they saw it then I guess. Just like it's a thing you *saw* it leaving the alley."

"Yeah, lucky stuff," Richie said, turning to Hutch's desk with his coffee cup.

"And just when was it you saw this car again? After all that happened last night I forget exactly what you said." Starsky said, moving to stand in front of Richie, blocking him from Hutch's desk.

"I saw it pulling out of the alley," Richie explained.

"So, you were there right after it happened?"

Richie shrugged. "I *guess* so. I didn't hear the crash or anything and an accident like that must have made a hell of a noise. I don't know how long the perp hung around admiring his handiwork. But it couldn't have been too long after it happened, I guess."

"Oh, really? Must have taken forever to call an ambulance then. I mean it was maybe ten minutes away ... and it was 2 hours later by the time you came to tell me about it."

Richie sighed. "Okay, I'll level with you," he said. He walked around and sat down in Starsky's chair. "When I saw that dented grey car pull out of the alley, I thought it looked suspicious, like I said. So I followed it. I didn't know it'd hit another car. I didn't get the license number because the license plate was missing. This is all in the official report, you can check. Anyway, I followed it for a while, but the driver, whom I couldn't get a look at, made me. And lost me. After that, I went back to the alley to see what I could see. *That* is when I found Hutchinson and then I called the ambulance. Then I

waited for them to come. Helped the medics get him out of the car and into the ambulance. *Then* I came to get you. I gave you the abridged version of the story for two reasons: 1 - you weren't really listening to me anyway because you were out of

your mind already and 2..." he looked a little ashamed, "And 2 I thought you'd get mad that I'd followed the car when Hutchinson was bleeding and unconscious in that alley. Obviously I hadn't known he was there, but you weren't exactly in the most reasonable frame of mind last night."

Starsky leaned against the desk, something wasn't seeming to add up, it seemed to be such a different story then what Richie had told last night - but what reason would Barker have to lie to him. "But ..." Starsky started to say then shut his mouth as he wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to say. Before he had been sure that there was *more* to the story that Richie had told him last night, And after his reaccount of what happened that night Starsky knew that much was true, and he wondered if that was all there was to the *more* he had sensed.

"Look, man," Richie said. "You're stressing out, you hardly slept last night... why don't you go home and get some rest or go back to the hospital if it will ease your mind - I'll get ahold of you if they find anything in the car, okay? Just let me know where you'll be."

"This accident doesn't make any sense." Starsky said. "I mean if the perp really wanted Hutch dead ... and he stuck around after as you suggested ... wouldn't he have made sure he was successful?"

Richie shrugged. "We don't know *what* the perp wanted," he said. "Maybe he just wanted to scare him. Maybe he wanted to scare *you*. Maybe he figured leaving him in that alley was leaving him for dead. I doubt he expected Hutchinson to be found even as quickly as he *was*. A car crash *might* let foul play be ruled out. That couldn't happen if the guy walked up to the car and shot him through the driver's side window." Richie paused thoughtfully, then patted Starsky on the arm. "Anyway, when we catch the guy we can ask him, right?"

"Yeah, guess so." Starsky said, working through all the scenarios that Richie had presented him with. "I probably should go back to the hospital. I told Hutch I wouldn't be gone too long."

"Sure," Richie said, patting him on the back. "If anything new comes up, I'll give you a call."

When Starsky arrived back at the hospital Hutch was just as sound asleep as he been when he left. Starsky sat down quietly on the chair next to the bed. As he sat watching his friend sleep he said a silent prayer of thanks that Hutch's injures weren't any worse then they were - knowing that Hutch could've been killed. The phone next to Hutch's bed suddenly rang. Hutch stirred, but didn't wake from his pain and pain-killer induced sleep.

Starsky jumped when the ringing phone pulled him from his reverie. He grabbed the phone just as it rang again, hoping that Hutch remained asleep. "Hello."

"Davey? It's Richie."

"Did they find something out about the car?" Starsky asked hopefully.

"Nothing helpful. There were no prints in it. None at all. And any and all registry and serial numbers were removed, including the VIN and the license plate. They're still going through all cars reported stolen in the last several months that haven't been recovered trying to find something that fits the description."

"Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. It was no damn accident." Starsky mumbled angrily, his contempt for whoever caused the accident was clear in his voice. He glanced at his, still sleeping, friend for a moment. "What if they try to come after Hutch again?" he thought.

"Yeah, obviously," Richie agreed. "I'll keep you posted. Just let me know if you go anywhere else so I know where to reach you. If *you* need to reach *me*, I'll be *here* until there's nothing left that I can do. We'll catch this dirtball," he assured Starsky.

"I don't plan on going anywhere." Starsky stated as if Richie should've already known that. "Not until Hutch is released from the hospital."

"Do you want me to bring you over some dinner when I get the chance?"

"Yeah, I guess it'd be better then anything that can be in the hospital to eat."

"Okay, I'll bring something by after I've heard about any possible matches in the stolen cars."

"Thanks."

"No problem, Davey. See you later."

"Bye now." Starsky said.

Starsky hadn't noticed Hutch wake up during the phone conversation. Hutch had turned his head to watch his partner as he hung up the phone.

Starsky noticed Hutch looking up as he moved to sit back in the chair, and he leaned forward against the edge of the bed instead. "About time you finally decided to wake up." Starsky teased.

"Who was that?" Hutch asked weakly, nodding towards the phone.

"Barker. They'd found the car in a river. But, it's a dead end. No prints. No clues." Starsky sighed. "It'd helped if you remembered the accident, if you saw the driver." Starsky's eyes shone with angry, none of which was directed at Hutch, but at whoever caused the accident and the situation in general.

"I know it would. But I hardly remember the accident itself. I know I never saw the driver." He studiously smoothed out the blanket that covered him. "I wasn't really paying attention at first, you know? I don't even know how long he was behind me before he raced up beside me and tried to run me into a wall." He shrugged slightly, flinching a bit as his injured shoulder protested the movement. "My mind was on other things. We aren't even working on anything major right now. Why would I suspect every car on the road?"

Starsky sat quietly for a moment as though thinking over what Hutch had said. "I just meant ... it'd be easier if you saw the driver or something ... anything, don't have a single lead on who did this."

"I know," Hutch said softly. "Sorry."

"Not your fault." Starsky reassured Hutch. "I'm just ... nevermind."

"What is it?" Hutch asked. "I know that look, Starsk. Something's eating at you. What is it?"

"Nothing." Starsky said firmly.

Hutch leveled a look at him. "Starsk...?"

"I was worried about you, what more is needed?"

"Starsk, I know you were worried about me. But there's more than that." He leaned his head back against the pillows. "C'mon," he said. "It's me you're talking to here."

Starsky seemed to think about it for moment, though his silence was more a case of trying to think how to tell Hutch what he was thinking. "None of this makes any sense. Like you said we aren't working anything major, I've been thinking about that myself. And it just don't seem like any kinda revenge scheme. It just doesn't add up."

"Well, maybe it was a drunk driver who realized what he'd done after the fact and felt he ought to dispose of the car before he got caught," Hutch offered, though not in any seriousness.

"It was far too intentional for that. There was no prints in the car, the VIN was removed … everything." Starsky leaned back in the chair, his eyes still on Hutch. "I just keep thinking there is something I'm missing about this 'accident'. Kinda like I can't see the forest for the trees, ya know?"

"I guess you've just got to wait for someone to yell 'timber'. Then you'll know which direction to look, huh?"

Starsky smiled, chuckling at his partner's comment. "It sure would help."

"I think I slept through lunch," Hutch said a bit awkwardly. "Do you think you could..." his voice trailed off. "I mean, I wouldn't mind some soup or something..."

"Barker said he was gonna bring some food when he came, I don't think he'll be too much longer."

"'Kay," Hutch said wearily, trying to shift himself into a slightly more comfortable position. There was a half-finished cup of water on his bedside table. He picked it up and took a drink. "So, how's our other investigation coming? Did anyone ever go follow up on the matchbook?"

"Don't think so. Haven't actually thought about that since ... since your accident." Starsky paused for a moment. "If you really hungry I could get you something to eat, or something to drink."

"No, it's okay. I can wait for Barker. I just... I should have been paying attention," he said. "I could have been more careful. It's not like there aren't a whole load of nutballs out there pissed off at us."

"It not like you could 'suspect every car on the road'." Starsky said, with a small grin.

Hutch cracked a small smile. "No."

Barker walked in just then with a bag in his hand. He dropped it on the beside table where it was within reach of both Starsky and Hutch. "Evenin' gents," he said, walking around the bed to sit on the other side as he had that morning.

Starsky grabbed the bag and rummaged through the bag to see the contents, doubting there was anything that Hutch would eat.

Hutch closed his eyes a second and put his hand to his head. His headache was coming back. He reached for his cup of water. It was already nearly empty. He drained it and set it back on the table. "What's for dinner?" he asked, clearly in pain.

"The menu consists of burgers with the works, and fries." Starsky said

He set the bag back down, wishing he told Barker to get something different for Hutch knowing even under normal circumstances Hutch wouldn't touch this food (other then to steal a few of his fries).

Hutch nodded and managed a weak smile. "So pass me a few fries," he said.

"You probably shouldn't be eating any, given your *delicate* condition." Starsky said, with a teasing smile. "I can go get you something else." he offered, as though he didn't even remember that Richie was there.

Hutch hesitated. "You don't have to. I mean, if you don't feel like it..."

"No, I don't *feel* like it. I *want* to."

"Thanks, Starsk," he said. "Just some soup or something, 'kay? Nothing heavy."

"I figured that much, just some of your usual kinda slop, all that good for you so tastes bad junk, you're always eating." Starsky said with grin.

Hutch smiled. "Thanks, Starsk."

Starsky stood, and placed a hand on Hutch's arm. "Shouldn't take more then a few minutes. Just try to be awake when I get back, okay?"

Hutch nodded faintly.

"I'll talk to him," Barker assured him. "Keep him lucid til you can pour some sustenance down his throat."

Starsky glanced at Barker, and nodded 'okay', then glanced one last time at Hutch before leaving the room.

Hutch looked at Barker. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he thought the other detective's expression was vaguely predatory.

"Feeling any better?" Barker asked.

"Not really," Hutch said flatly.

"Too bad," Barker answered. He didn't sound very much like he really thought it was all that bad.

Soon as he was out the hospital doors he began to have second thoughts about leaving. He told himself that he was being silly, that with Barker there nothing could happen to Hutch. He shook the thought from his mind, but couldn't shake the nagging feeling completely.

"Starsky said they found the car that hit me. In the river," Hutch said.

"Yep. But it may as well have stayed lost for all the good finding it has done us. We've still got nothing." Barker looked at Hutch's empty glass. "Want me to get you some more water?"

Hutch looked at him a bit warily for a second, then nodded. Barker got up, reached over for the cup, then went into the small bathroom to fill it.

Starsky reached his car, and sat behind the wheel for minute, his thoughts trying to decided between where to get Hutch's food from (and what and where to get it) and just going back to check one last time on Hutch. "How much trouble could he get into in a couple minutes, with Barker there?" he asked himself. "A lot." the nagging feeling, that plagued him since stepping outside, seemed to answer.

She looked at him. "Oh, no, sir. Just time for the patient's medication," she informed him, holding up a small plastic cup with three pills in it. Just then a call for a code blue came over the loud speaker and an intern running by called to her. "C'mon, Josie! You're the only RN on tonight, we need you!"

She looked after him. "I'll just be second!" she called after him. Barker tapped her shoulder. "Ma'am, I'll give him those if it'll save you a minute."

She looked conflicted for a second, then handed over the pills and ran out the door.

"What was that about?" Hutch asked.

"Emergency. She had to fly. But she left your pills for you," he said, holding up the little cup.

Starsky decided it couldn't hurt to check, just to set the nagging feeling to rest once and for all. He knew Hutch would laugh at him, and no doubt call him paranoid, which almost made him change his mind, again. He knew he probably just was being a little paranoid, after all whoever tried to hurt Hutch once was still running free, and Hutch would be an easy target.

"Barker is there, he wouldn't let someone just waltz in a hurt Hutch. He and Hutch might not be friends but Richie is a good cop." Starsky thought as he slowly made his way back towards the hospital.

"Here," Richie said, handing Hutch the water. Then he dumped the pills out in his hand and handed them to Hutch. Hutch took them and put them in his mouth, drinking the cup of water to wash them down. "I'll get you some more water," Richie told him. Hutch nodded dumbly.

Starsky made his way back up to Hutch's room, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. If someone had busted into Hutch's room there'd be some commotion, and Starsky seriously considered leaving before Hutch even knew the difference. "Can't do any harm to just check ... he might tease me but ... he'll understand." Starsky thought to himself and continued down the corridor to Hutch's room.

Hutch was feeling woozy as Richie came back with the second cup of water and placed it on the table. He waved his hand in front of Hutch's face.

Starsky paused outside Hutch's door for a moment, as he tried to decide on good 'lie' to tell on why he had came back so soon, and without any food for Hutch. He could see through the little window on the door that there was nobody in the room besides Hutch and Barker. He thought that seeing that would make the uneasy feeling go away but it did no such thing, in fact it only seemed to serve to make it stronger.

Barker snapped his fingers infront of Hutch's face. Hutch blinked a bit, but seemed dazed. Starsky reached for the doorknob but something stopped him, he watched the scene in front of him as though he were watching a movie on television. "Just what is going on in there?"

Barker picked up the cup from the bedside table and tried to encourage Hutch to drink some more. Hutch was struggling to keep his head up and his eyes open. He was getting increasingly dizzy.

Starsky shook his head and laughed at himself for being silly. "What do you think is gonna happen? Stop being so paranoid." he scolded himself and opened the door and stepped quietly into the room.

"C'mon, Hutchie. Just drink your water like a good boy. It's *good* for you," Barker was mumbling.

Starsky was puzzled, thinking Barker seemed awfully concerned if Hutch drank the water or not, and as too why Hutch wasn't even answering.

Hutch's head nodded down, almost causing Barker to spill the water. He cursed. He stood up straight and noticed Starsky out of the corner of his eye. The surprise made him jump slightly and he almost dropped the water again.

"Davey! That was fast."

"I ... uh ..." Starsky started, and noticed his jacket on the chair. "Forgot my jacket, and the keys are in the pocket, so I couldn't go far." it was only a half lie, the keys were really in the pocket of his jeans.

"Oh. Funny how you can forget everyday things when your mind is occupied, huh?"

"Yeah." Starsky replied absently moving closer to the bed. "Hey, Hutch, I thought I told you to try to stay awake, buddy."

Hutch looked at him blankly, his eyes a bit glassy. He blinked slowly.

"Hutch?" Starsky said, more concernedly this time. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently put a hand against the side of Hutch's face. The skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. "You okay?"

"The nurse came in and gave him his pain killers and stuff," Barker said. He was starting to look a little nervous. "Those things work fast, huh?"

"Seems a little too fast, wasn't this way before." Starsky said nervously. He patted Hutch's cheek lightly as he saw Hutch's eyes drooping shut. "Stay with me, Hutch."

To Hutch, everything sounded like it was underwater. His head bobbed. He tried to look at Starsky. He was sure he heard Starsky's voice. It was garbled and fuzzy, but it sounded like Starsky. He tried to say Starsky's name, but he could only manage inarticulate sound.

"Something ain't right." Starsky looked at Barker. "Get a doctor." he told him firmly.

"I th-thought if he drank some water it might help flush his system. It's uh, kinda freaking me out," Barker stammered.

"Just get a doctor. Maybe it's an allergic reaction to the medication ... or something."

"Right," Barker nodded and ran out of the room.

"Just stay with me, Hutch, stay with me." Starsky said, as he gently stroked the side of Hutch's head, smoothing the hair away Hutch's face. Grateful that he had listened to his instincts to return, though cursed himself for having taken so long.

Hutch couldn't keep his eyes open. His head rolled to the side as he lost consciousness.

"Hutch .... Hutch ... Huuuuutch." Each time he spoke his partner's name his voice was more panicked. He knew something was seriously wrong and it scared him - to be this close to losing Hutch 2 days in a row.

A passing nurse heard Starsky's panicked cry and came into the room. "Sir? Is something the matter sir?"

"Something's really wrong ... bad reaction to the medicine or something .."

She came over to the bed, lifted Hutch's eyelids one at a time and looked at his eyes. "I'll get the doctor," she said briskly and hurried out of the room.

"Richie was suppose to be doing that ..." He started to wonder what was taking Barker so long to find a doctor, it wasn't like doctor's were all that hard to find - it was a hospital the place was full of them.

A doctor rushed into the room. "Move aside, please," he said, pushing Starsky away from the bed firmly, but not unkindly. "Let's see what we have here..." He started examining Hutch, ignoring Starsky for the time being, but not asking him to leave the room either.

"Just what did the nurse give him anyways?" Starsky asked demandingly from where he stood. He knew the painkillers Hutch was being given was the exact same ones he had, many times, before so a bad reaction to the medicine seemed a little strange

"The nurse gave him the prescribed pain-killers," the doctor said briskly. "They didn't bother him yesterday," he added, unknowingly echoing Starsky's thoughts.

A nurse had come in behind the doctor and spoke up. "I brought the painkillers in," she said. "I didn't personally administer them. His friend was here. He did that. They needed me on that code blue."

"No, I didn't. I wasn't here." Starsky said defensively.

"His *other* friend," the nurse said patiently. "The man that was here when he was first admitted."

"When he was first admitted? Richie was the only other here today that I know of. I wasn't gone more then five maybe ten minutes, just now. But, Richie wasn't here when Hutch was admitted."

"Yes he was," the nurse said. "I admitted him. I remember very well. He brought him in personally. Said his friend had had an accident and needed a doctor."

"Personally? You mean in an ambulance."

"No, he brought him in himself. Carried him in to the Emergency Room."

"You have to be thinking of someone else. That's not what happened." Starsky said impatiently.

"Young man, you weren't there. I remember it very clearly. Someone in as bad shape as Mr. Hutchinson here was in, you'd *expect* them to come in an ambulance. It was probably foolish to move him at all, but his friend said that he hadn't had a choice. He said the car was leaking gasoline and he was afraid it would explode."

Starsky shook his head, not wanting to accept what she was saying. To accept her account of what happened would mean every word Barker told him was a lie and no doubt knew a lot more about the accident then he told him. "Did you see the car he came in?" he asked quietly.

"No, he left it outside," she answered a little curtly. She was clearly sick of being given the third degree by someone who didn't believe anything she said anyway. Then she was distracted from Starsky's interrogation when the doctor turned and whispered something to her. She nodded and left the room.

Starsky's eyes fell on the glass of water that sat on the table. "The water ..."

"What about the water?" the doctor murmured, checking Hutch's pulse.

"When I came back into the room Barker was really insistent at trying to get Hutch to drink the water. Didn't make much sense ... I mean they aren't exactly good friends ... though I don't think Barker would do anything to actually hurt Hutch ..." Starsky said, not knowing how to explain the situation to the doctor.

The doctor looked over at Starsky. "I'm going to tell you what I *suspect*, but I'm not going to swear to it until we get the tests back, alright?"

Starsky nodded, bracing himself for the possible bad news.

"Well, in a minute the nurse is going to take a blood sample so we can check it to confirm my theory. See, I'm thinking that Mr. Hutchinson here has had a nice big dose of barbituate. It's going to knock him on his ass, especially considering the fact that it's mixing with his pain-killers, but I'm pretty certain that he hasn't had enough yet to kill him." The doctor paused, removed his glasses and polished them on his coat. "Now, you're a detective from what I understand. How do you think Mr. Hutchinson got a load of barbituates in his system?"

"Sure as hell not *willing*." Starsky mumbled, and looked again at the glass. "The water ..." Starsky closed his eyes. "Barker." he stated in a hurt tone. Starsky opened his eyes and looked at Hutch. "He tried to kill you ... probably had a lot to do with his last partner's death ... so why did you think he wouldn't try to hurt Hutch?" he asked himself.

The doctor picked up the glass and looked at it suspiciously. The nurse came back in. He took the needle to her, handed her the glass of water and whispered something else to her. She took the cup and left the room again. The doctor took a blood sample from Hutch's arm himself. "We're going to monitor him closely until we're sure the drugs are out of his system and he's alright." he turned to go, then stopped. "You can stay, if you like," he said. He knew the detective would probably stay whether he said he could or not, but he wanted to make it official.

Starsky just nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to fully come to terms with what had happened - and who he was starting to suspect. "If he drank much more of that water ... he'd be dead, wouldn't he?" Starsky asked without even looking at the doctor.

The doctor stopped in the doorway. He turned around. "I can only guess," he said. Then added, "but I would guess so." He left with the blood sample.

"I'm sorry, Hutch, I never should've left ... "Starsky said quietly, even though Hutch wasn't awake to hear him. "I don't know what to do ... I don't want to think it was Barker, but ..." Starsky rambled on quietly to his unconscious partner wishing Hutch would wake up.

The phone next to Hutch's bed suddenly rang.

Starsky jumped slightly, startled by the ringing phone for the second time that day. "Yeah, what?" he answered

the phone crossly.

"It's 'Yeah, what, Captain,' to you Starsky," Dobey answered just as crossly. "And how come Hutch ends up in the hospital and I have to hear about it through the grapevine?"

"I figured you knew ... Barker said ..." Starsky said his voice trailing off as he realized there was a lot of things Barker had said that he was starting to find out weren't exactly true.

"What's going on, Starsky? I got a call saying someone found Hutch's car crumpled and abandoned in an alley, with blood all over the steering wheel! How is he? Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know exactly what is going on." Starsky told him. "Don't know if he's gonna be okay … anymore either." he added quietly.

"What's going on?" Dobey asked quietly. "I heard about Hutch's car, then Barker was rushing out of here like his butt was on fire. When I asked him what his hurry was, he said 'Haven't you heard? Hutch is in the hospital!'"

"Hutch's been in the hospital since last night." Starsky said. "Barker was there just now? But ... he was here … he was suppose to be going to get a doctor."

"He just left a couple minutes ago. He had some stuff in a bag. Said it was stuff you needed."

"I don't know exactly what is going on ... but, unfortunately I think Barker has *everything* to do with it. That he has *Everything* to do with Hutch's accident." Starsky said angrily.

"I'll put out and APB," Dobey said briskly and hung up the phone.

Starsky slammed the phone down. Hating himself for not seeing through Barker's lies sooner, cursing himself for being so gullible and trusting. Hutch stirred slightly, but was a long way from coming out of it. Starsky wanted to leave to search for Barker himself but was afraid to leave Hutch alone in case Barker came there to try to finish the job he had started. He blamed himself for what happened to Hutch almost as much as he blamed Barker. After all it was his trust in his old friend that had led to all this.

Hutch didn't know how much time had passed as he slowly swan into consciousness. Sunlight was streaming through his window as he eased his eyes open. His room faced east. It was morning. Some morning. He turned his head away from the window, from the blinding light, looking for Starsky.

Starsky was too lost in his own thoughts to notice that Hutch was awake. He was pacing around the room by the window, he had decided that he couldn't chance leaving Hutch alone again. Hutch looked at the empty chair and felt disappointment creep in. Not that he would *ask* Starsky to sit over him 24/7, but he had hoped he was there anyway. He needed to warn him about Barker. He was pretty sure Barker had drugged him. Starsky wouldn't want to hear it, but... he fumbled for his call button, but couldn't quite reach where it was hanging on the rail over his head.

Starsky heard the movement and lifted his head, he quickly rushed over to the bed. "Hey, take it easy there, partner."

"S-starsk?" He found that he was still too groggy to form words properly. And his mouth was painfully dry. He licked his lips. "You're still here," he managed to croak.

"Of course I am." Starsky said, laying a reassuring hand against Hutch's cheek for a moment. "Where else would I be?"

"Don't know," Hutch said groggily. "Thought you were gone." He coughed. "Can I have some water?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I'll get you some." Starsky said, and moved quickly to do just that. Returning with the glass of water he held it to Hutch's lips, since Hutch seemed to groggy to take the water himself (at least without spilling more water then he drank).

"Thanks," Hutch said gratefully, and let his head fall back on the pillow.

"How you feeling?" Starsky asked concernedly, almost nervously.

"Sick," Hutch said. "Like the worst hangover you've ever had times about a hundred."

"Sorry." Starsky apologized sincerely.

"What for?"

"For *everything* it's my fault you got hurt ... my fault you were drugged ... he went after you 'causa me. And I was too damn gullible to see through all his lies ...and because of that he hurt you even worse ..."

"Starsk, don't. You have to stop blaming yourself for Barker's actions. He's a punk. He lied to you. He was your friend and he betrayed you. That's not your fault."

"It's my fault that he drugged you. I left you alone with him ... I shouldn't have done that. If he got much more of that water in ya ... you'd be dead." Starsky said, moving away from the bed and starting to pace around the room.

"I let him give it to me, Starsk. I drank it. And I had even less reason to trust him than you did, so if you're going to blame yourself, then you have to blame me too," Hutch said firmly.

"You just trusted him because I practically *forced* you too." Starsky said, his tone just as firm as Hutch's. "And I trusted him because I was too stupid, too damn gullible to see through his lies ... bought all he said hook line and sinker, and your the one who got sunk."

"Don't imply that I can't make my own judgements about people, Starsk. Even if they are your friends. Yeah, I thought he was bad news. I thought he was a slimeball. I didn't think he was a murderer. Not like *this*. If I had, I wouldn't have trusted him with the water. I didn't have to drink it, he couldn't make me. He didn't *try* to make me. He didn't *need* to."

Starsky stood up and paced around the room, feeling Hutch's eyes following each and every step that he took. "That's not what I meant ... you know that's not what I meant."

"No, but I was making a point. Now, are we going to sit around here blaming ourselves all day, or are we going to do something? Because I wouldn't mind giving the dirtball a couple of socks in the nose - one for you and one for me."

"Hate to be the one to break it to you, Blondie, but you ain't exactly in any condition to be tearing around the city on a manhunt." Starsky said, his tone half-serious and half-teasing. He stepped over to the bed and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. "And I am not about to leave you alone, again. You get yourself into far too much trouble when I do, even when I ain't gone more then a couple minutes."

Hutch smiled. "It's not as bad as it looks," he said, but his voice still sounded weak. "Honest," he added. "Be right as rain in a couple of days."

"How do you know how bad it looks? You look in a mirror lately?" Starsky teased. "I wish I had came back sooner, the second I felt something *might* be wrong. Wish I realized what he was up, it didn't seem ... right, but I ignored that and let him get away."

Now that Starsky was sitting on the bed, he was within reach. Hutch put a hand on Starsky's knee. "Could have, would have, should have... so what? We'll get him and then we'll show him what happens to people who betray their friends."

Starsky smiled slightly, grateful for Hutch's reassurance, grateful that Hutch didn't blame him for anything Barker had done. "If I ever see that bastard again I'll ... kill him." Starsky said, even though it was mostly an idle threat.

Hutch gave Starsky's knee a reassuring squeeze and quietly told him "If you kill them, they never learn anything."

"Some people never learn though." Starsky reasoned, then sighed exhaustedly. "Though I doubt we'll ever catch him. I have the feeling he's already long gone. Too many people know about his lies now."

"Good riddance," Hutch said, and laid back against his pillows. He felt tired again. He tired so easily, it kind of pissed him off.

Starsky remained at the hospital during the rest of Hutch's stay, barely leaving the room for more then two minutes and the only times he did leave Huggy or Dobey was there.

Hutch was released by the next afternoon, suffering no permanent effects from either of Barker's attempts on his life. The manhunt for Richie Barker proved to be just as futile as Starsky had thought it would be - it seemed as though the man had merely dropped off the face of planet.

~ The End ~