Twenty-five minutes later, Hutch unlocked the door to his apartment. He honestly didn't remember much about the trip home. His mind was still replaying the sounds and images of Starsky behind the bedroom door with Dana. With shaking hands, he removed his jacket and tossed it onto the couch. His mind was still struggling to absorb this new revelation concerning his feelings for Starsky. Was I really so naive to not have considered where my feelings were leading? It's not like I'm young and innocent. Shit, I can't even remember what young and innocent was like.

   With a cold beer in hand, Hutch wandered through his apartment. I can't believe I stood outside Starsky's bedroom and listened to him making love to Dana. I'm turning into some loathsome person I don't even know. Don't even want to know. First sleeping with a hooker, now listening outside bedroom doors...eavesdropping on my best friend. Even worse--what I was thinking? Just thinking about his repulsive behavior brought on a wave of nausea.

   Part of him wanted to rush off to find Sara. I can't do that. Because there'd be no doubt in my mind this time that I'd be using her. This time, I'd have to face the fact that she was a substitute for Starsky.

   Standing next to the bed, he swallowed the last of his beer and set the empty bottle down on the nightstand. Now what? Acting natural around Starsky is going to be a lot harder now. I'm not even sure I can look him in the eye.

   Sinking down on the bed, Hutch sat, shoulders slumped. What the hell happened to my life? Ever since the accident, everything's been such a mess. Sometimes I wish...wish what? That I had died? Never regained the use of my legs? Just what is it you wish, Hutchinson? Despite the fact that it was so early, Hutch stood and removed his clothes. Leaving them in a pile on the floor. I wish I hadn't gotten up one morning and discovered that my feelings for Starsky had...changed my life...or is that ruined my life?

   Hutch's hand slid over the still evident sign of his arousal. Starsky is out of the question, Sara's off limits tonight, so that just leave me. Been a while since I've had to jerk myself off. Pulling the blankets back, Hutch slid under the covers. Closing his eyes, his imagination took over and it was Starsky's hand on his firm flesh. He groaned aloud as he caressed his rapidly growing erection. While his right hand worked his throbbing shaft, his left hand moved up to his chest and fondled first one nipple, then the other. Needing more, he lightly pinched his nipples, groaning at the increased sensation. His hand trembled as he gripped his cock harder, remembering the sounds of Starsky in his bedroom. This isn't going to take long. Oh, Starsk...I need you.

   Hutch arched his hips, as he pumped harder and faster, almost frantic for release. The driving need he felt was almost unbearable. His breathing had become agonized gasps, and he could feel the sweat that beaded his flushed face. As the right hand continued its rhythmic stroking, his left hand joined in gently squeezing the base. Faster and faster, harder and harder, and then he felt himself stiffen in release as his body shuddered and convulsed, and warm fluid erupted onto his hand and heaving stomach.

   Hutch felt hot tears slide down his face as the truth hit him. Jerking off had taken care of the physical need, but inside he felt nothing but cold emptiness. I don't know what to do. Where do I go from here? He escaped his tortured thoughts as he drifted off to sleep.

********

   Waking to a sticky mess several hours later, Hutch groaned as he rolled out of bed to clean himself up. Returning to bed, he couldn't seem to get warm. It was like a chill had settled deep inside him. And sleep wouldn't come. His mind raced with thoughts of the shambles his life had ended up in. I don't know how long I can go on like this. Just when I thought I could handle things, I realize just how lost I really am. How can I go on working day in and day out with him without losing my mind?

   The night seemed to drag on forever as Hutch drifted in and out of sleep. Despite the morning sun filtering through the window, he couldn't bring himself to crawl out of bed. He just didn't have the energy or motivation. By late morning, a blinding headache forced him out bed. After swallowing several aspirin and putting on a pot of coffee, he collapsed into a chair. Forcing himself to move, he took a shower and somehow managed to shave without cutting his throat. The face that stared back at him from the mirror had a haunted look. One look at me, and Starsky is going to start demanding answers.

   Even after three cups of black coffee, Hutch could barely drag himself back to the bedroom. Hell, I don't have any plans today. Might as well go back to bed. He ended up sleeping most of the day. With Dana back in town, it was unlikely that Starsky would come around.

   By Sunday afternoon, Hutch was feeling physically ill. Bouts of nausea kept him running to the bathroom. This is just great. As if I don't have enough problems.

   Monday morning, Hutch knew there was no way he was going to be able to function well enough to work. An unhappy and somewhat irritated Dobey took his early morning sick call. He could still hear Dobey grumbling as he hung up the phone. Since he'd been planning on driving himself to work, there was no need to call Starsky. No need to call Starsky? Maybe it's a case of no guts, Hutchinson. Being sick gives you a good excuse to put off facing him.

   Walking across the parking lot, Starsky looked around for his partner's car. Not seeing it, he chuckled softly, finding it humorous to think that his usually punctual partner was running late.

   It wasn't until he was pouring his second cup of coffee that he became concerned that Hutch hadn't shown up yet. He poked his head inside Dobey's office door. "Hey, Cap'n, you heard anything from Hutch this morning?"

   "Seems your partner is sick today."

   "Sick?"

   Dobey could hear the worry in Starsky's voice. "I don't think he's dying, Starsky. Probably just some kind of bug that's going around. Now, how about you getting some work done?"

   "Yeah, sure, Cap'n." Starsky shut Dobey's door and returned to his desk. He always hated it when the desk across from him was empty. He thought about calling Hutch, but common sense prevailed. No point in disturbing him now. I'll just stop by after work.

   By lunchtime, Starsky was anxious for some company so he headed to Huggy's. The place was jumping with the usual lunch rush. "Hey, Starsk, where's that blond partner of yours?"

   "He's off sick today."

   "Nothing serious, I hope."

   "I don't think so."

   "Well, since Hutch isn't around, there's something I been wanting to talk to you about."

   "What's up?"

   "That's what I'd like to know. What's going on with that partner of yours?"

   "What do ya mean?"

   "Well, there's a rumor going around that our Hutchie boy's involved with a certain young hooker. Turns out it's not just a rumor. I checked it out, and the fact is that our boy has resorted to paying for sex. I can't for the life of me figure that out. The dude's like a magnet when it comes to women. And now he's paying for it? Think maybe he's into something kinky that only a hooker will do for him?"

   Starsky stared dumfounded as Huggy's words began to sink in. "Huggy...are you positive about this? I mean...I can't believe it. Not Hutch. I don't believe it. This is a joke, right?"

   "That was my first reaction, too, Starsk. But I checked it out. I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it. A young hooker named Sara; he meets her at a bar called Charlie's. Then they go to her place a few blocks from there."

   "No, not Hutch. You're wrong." Starsky refused to accept what Huggy was saying.

   "Starsky, are you listening to me? I said I seen 'em with my own eyes."

   "Why? I don't understand. This makes no sense." Suddenly Starsky wasn't hungry, anymore. Food was the furthest thing from his mind. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

   Huggy watched as Starsky made his way to the door. He couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing by telling Starsky. None of it made any sense.

   Back at the station, Starsky found it impossible to concentrate on anything but what Huggy had told him. This is crazy. Hutch is no saint, but this...it just goes against everything I know about Hutch.

   "Starsky, if you're just going to sit there staring into space, you might as well go home." Starsky hadn't even noticed his captain standing beside his desk. "Better yet, go check on your partner. But I want you back here on time first thing in the morning with or without your partner. Understand?"

   "Yes, sir. Thanks, Cap'n." Starsky bolted for the door.

   Once on his way to Hutch's place, Starsky pondered how he would find the words to bring up the subject of the hooker. If Hutch is sick, the timing isn't good, but damn it, I have to find out what's going on with him.

********

   How could I have slept most of the day and still be so damn tired? Hutch forced himself out of bed, groaning as he glanced at the clock. Three forty-five already?

   Emerging from the bathroom, still damp from the shower, Hutch froze as he heard the sound of a key turning in his door. Starsky. I'm not ready for this. If I could just hide somewhere--anywhere. Hutch actually found himself looking around for a place to hide. Sure, just crawl under the bed like some little kid. Hutch fought the sudden feeling of nausea. I can't face him yet.

   "Hey, partner, how you feeling?"

   Hutch turned around to see Starsky watching him.

   "I'm not sure how I feel. It comes and goes." Hutch's voice shook slightly with nervousness. It's just not fair. I shouldn't have to feel so uncomfortable around Starsk. It's like he can read my mind.

   "Yeah, well, you look like hell." Starsky took in the haggard appearance of his partner. "You think it's the flu or what?"

   Hutch ran his hand through his still damp hair and shook his head. "I don't know."

   "You eat anything today?"

   "I don't have much of an appetite. I'll eat something later." Hutch was wishing Starsky would just leave. He couldn't deal with being in Starsky's company right now. Not yet. "Starsk, you didn't need to come by. I'll be okay."

   "Hey, what are partners for? You'd do the same for me."

   Hutch knew he was right, but he still didn't want Starsky fussing over him, and he just didn't feel comfortable around his partner right now.

   "Come on, sit down before you fall down. What about seeing a doctor?" Starsky hovered over the blond as he took a seat on the couch.

   "Starsk, if I don't feel better in a day or two I'll call a doctor. It's probably just some bug going around." Just go home, Starsk. Go see Dana, go anywhere, just go.

   "Starsky, there really isn't anything you can do for me. I'm just gonna go back to bed and try and get some more sleep. Why don't you just go on home?" Hutch's stomach was telling him that he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. If I have to make a rush trip to the bathroom, I'll never get him to leave. "Starsky, really, just go home. I'll call you in the morning and let you know if I'm going in to work."

   Starsky knew the timing was wrong, it was obvious Hutch wasn't feeling well, but he just had to know if what Huggy had told him was true. He knew Huggy wouldn't lie to him, but maybe there was an explanation for it. And maybe there is no explanation. At least not one I want to hear. I've got to know. I may hate myself for this, but I've got to ask him about it.

   Starsky nervously took a deep breath and sat down next to Hutch. "Okay, I'll go, but before I do…I need to ask you something."

   Hutch waited, not realizing that things were about to take a very unpleasant turn. "All right, ask and let me get back to bed." Whatever it is he wants to know, I'll tell him and he'll leave and I can go back to suffering in peace.

   "Well, I was..." Starsky cleared his throat as his apprehension grew. "I was wondering...are you working on some case without me?" He couldn't sit still as he waited for Hutch's reply. Getting to his feet, he paced across the room and waited--his back to Hutch.

   "I don't understand, Starsky. What makes you think I'm working on something without you? We're partners, we don't work alone."

   Starsky stood quietly, his back still to Hutch. Now, how to do I ask him if he's spending time with some prostitute?

   "Starsk?" Hutch was on his feet now. "What's going on?" Hutch had the uneasy feeling something was wrong.

   Nothing to do now but ask. Just blurt it out. "Hutch, do you have something going on with a prostitute?" It didn't come out so well, but it was out in the open now.

   Hutch felt as if he had just shattered into a million tiny pieces. A cold, dark silence seemed to surround them. He knew Starsky was waiting for some kind of reply. The nausea he'd been fighting since Starsky arrived could no longer be controlled. Hutch bolted for the bathroom.

   Hearing the choking retching sounds, Starsky hastened toward the bathroom. I should've waited. He needs to see a doctor.

   Hutch hadn't bothered to turn on the light, so the bathroom was just dimly lit with light from the other room. Starsky could see Hutch on the floor, leaning weakly against the wall. Flipping on the light, Starsky grabbed a towel and soaked it with cold water.

   "You okay, buddy?" Starsky wiped the sweat from Hutch's face and then ran the cold towel around his neck.

   "No, I'm not okay," Hutch replied through clenched teeth. "My best friend is spying on me. Following me around. Prying into my personal life. Just do me a huge favor and leave me alone. Go home, Starsky."

   "Hutch, I wasn't spying on you. You've got to believe me." He took hold of Hutch's arm, attempting to help the blond to his feet.

   Hutch jerked his arm away. "Leave me alone. Go on, get out of here. I don't need you." Hutch's voice shook with anger.

   "Hutch, you're sick. Let me take care of you." Starsky regretted even mentioning the subject of the prostitute. He didn't even know what to say in his own defense; he couldn't let on that it was Huggy who had informed him of what was going on.

   "I can take care of myself." The expression on Hutch's face was dark and angry. Along with the fury he was feeling toward Starsky, there was also a feeling of revulsion and regret at the things he'd been hiding from his friend.

   "Hutch, please, I'm sorry." Starsky was almost begging now.

   But Hutch was in no mood to be reasoned with. He was angry with both himself and Starsky and didn't feel up to discussing anything, let alone the time he'd spent with Sara.

   Hutch pulled himself to his feet and stood facing Starsky. "In answer to your question, yes, I am seeing a prostitute." His voice held a hint of warning, as he spoke in a tense but clipped voice. "My personal life is my business. Now get out of here. I might be sick, but I swear if you don't leave now, I'll throw you out." Hutch turned and walked out of the bathroom.

   Starsky stood almost dumfounded, as he watched Hutch walk away from him. He had never planned on things turning out this way. This can't be happening. I've got to try to smooth things over; I can't leave him like this.

   He found Hutch sprawled out on the couch, one arm flung across his face. "Hutch, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He wanted to reach out and touch the blond, but somehow he knew his touch wouldn't be welcomed right now. "Maybe we can have a long talk when you're feeling better."

   "There's nothing to talk about. Do I have to get up and throw you out of here? Get it through your head, my personal life is just that--personal. Now get the hell out and let me get some sleep." Hutch spoke without removing the arm that lay across his face, his voice cold and impersonal. He knew he didn't want to witness the hurt that must be showing on Starsky's face about now.

   Starsky knew Hutch was serious about taking any necessary steps he needed to get Starsky out of there. Too much has gone wrong here already, I'm not going to get into any kind of physical altercation with him. I'll leave for now, but this isn't over.

   "Okay, I'm going, but this is far from over."

   Hutch listened as Starsky's footsteps moved across the room, and then he heard the door close. He rolled over, burying his face in the couch. He had never felt so empty inside. He's gone, and that might just be the end of our friendship. I'm all alone now.

   The next morning, Starsky waited as long as he could for Hutch to call before heading to work. With Dobey's voice still ringing in his ears about being back first thing in the morning--and on time--he knew better than to be late. No point in having everyone mad at me. He knew deep down that Hutch wasn't going to call, anyway. I've never seen Hutch angrier than he was last night. Well, at least never that angry with me. It scares me to think there's a chance we won't be able to work this out.

   Captain Dobey was standing at the water cooler when Starsky walked in. "I just talked to your partner; he sounds awful. Did you check on him yesterday? How does he seem to you?"

   "Yeah, I stopped to see him after I left work yesterday. He looks like hell, if you want the truth. I didn't stay long; he just wanted to sleep." I told the truth, I just left out a few things.

   "What did he say to you?" Dobey asked. "Do you think it's just the flu?"

   "I'm not sure. He sounded awful, but he said he'd try and come in tomorrow."

   Dobey paused before entering his office. "If he's no better tomorrow, you make sure he sees a doctor. Come to think of it, you don't look so good yourself. Hope you're not coming down with the same thing."

   Starsky poured himself a cup of coffee. Me, I'm just tired. Kind of hard to sleep after what went down between Hutch and me last night. I wish I could blame it on him being sick, but I know there's more to it. And after all that, I still don't know what's going on with him and this hooker. Hutch and a hooker makes no sense at all. But none of that matters. What's really important is that Hutch starts feeling better. What if it's more than a bug?

   More than anything, Starsky wanted to call and check on Hutch. But common sense told him to just leave him alone. At least for today. But tomorrow, partner, if you're not sitting at that desk across from me, I'll have to say to hell with common sense.

   Thankfully, their caseload was light. When Hutch had returned to work after the accident, his doctors had insisted on him taking things easy for a while. Last week, the doctors had given the okay for Hutch to resume his usual duties. Dobey had just been getting ready to hand them some new cases when Hutch came down with this so-called bug. I'm still not convinced it's only the flu that's making Hutch so sick.

   Starsky had made up his mind that if Hutch was not at work the next morning, he was calling his doctor. If I have to take him in handcuffs, he's going to see a doctor.

   Starsky was both surprised and relieved to find Hutch in the familiar spot at his desk the next day. "Hey, good morning." Starsky was positively beaming he was so happy to see Hutch.

   Hutch looked up and nodded, the smile on his face a bit forced. "Morning. Dobey just handed us a few more cases." Hutch tossed a couple of folders onto Starsky's desk, then resumed looking over the file in front of him.

   After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Starsky took his seat across from Hutch. With a few discreet glances in Hutch's direction, Starsky determined that Hutch didn't look all that much better. Dark circles under his eyes...he looks exhausted. Maybe he's feeling better, but still needs a couple of days to get rested up.

   They got lucky and the cases Dobey had turned over to them were fairly open and shut. Just after lunch, they'd made an arrest. One case solved. Hutch had been pretty quiet all morning as they had looked through the files. But out on the street, asking questions and looking for leads, he seemed to be more like himself.

   When they had stopped for lunch, Starsky had to force himself not to beg Hutch to eat a little more. But there was no way he was going to get into any arguments with Hutch today. Neither of them had mentioned the events of the other night, and for now that was just fine with Starsky.

   When they were ready to leave the squadroom that night, Starsky could tell the day had taken its toll on Hutch. "Want me to pick you up in the morning?" Starsky asked, hoping Hutch would take him up on his offer.

   Hutch paused next to his car, "Sure, pick me up." Reaching for the door handle, he paused again. "Starsk, I'm sorry about the other night."

   Before Starsky had a chance to reply, Hutch was in his car and closing the door. I wish I knew what was going on in that mind of yours, partner. Something's wrong. Something besides the fact that you're not feeling well.

   As the week came to a close, Starsky didn't see much of a change in Hutch, no better or worse. Hutch came to work, but still looked and acted tired. And Starsky was pretty sure Hutch had been sick to his stomach several times. I just wish I knew what to do or say to put things right between us. As long as he's so distant, I'm afraid to try to talk to him. I don't want to make him angry again like he was the other night. If I push too much, I might just push him further away.

   "So, do you have any plans this weekend?" Starsky asked Hutch as, they cleared off their desks.

   "No, nothing special. I'm still not feeling as good as I should. I think I'll mainly just take it easy and try to get a little extra sleep."

   That's progress, he's actually admitting that he's still not feeling well. "Well, if you feel like doing something, give me a call."

   "Yeah, I'll do that," Hutch said. Not much chance of me calling you. I know sooner or later you're gonna want to talk about Sara. Actually, I guess you know what's going on, but you're gonna want to know why. "I think you'd just better plan on spending your weekend with Dana." Hutch even managed a feeble grin. "I'm sure you'll have a lot more fun with her, anyway." As a matter of fact, partner, I'm sure of it. You seemed to be enjoying yourself quite a bit last weekend with Dana. And it still hurts just to think about it.

   "Well, have it your way, buddy. But don't forget you can call me any time." Starsky had the feeling Hutch was withdrawing from him. Why, what did I do?

   "I know you're always there for me, Starsk. I just don't feel well, and there's nothing you can do. I just need to rest."

   "You could see a doctor," Starsky said, regretting the words the minute they left his mouth.

   "If I think I need a doctor, I'll see one. You're not my mother. I can take care of myself." Hutch stood up, grabbed his jacket off his chair and headed for the door.

   Starsky was right behind him. "No, I'm not your mother. I'm even closer; I'm your partner. I worry about you. And from the looks of you, you're wrong--you can't take care of yourself. But you go ahead be the tough guy that doesn't need anything from anyone." Starsky shoved past his partner and was out the door before Hutch could even react to his partner's comments.

   All the way home, Hutch kept hearing Starsky's angry words echoing in his head. I'm becoming more and more screwed up. I love him. Hell, I'm in love with him. So what am I doing? I keep pushing him away. Do I really want to push him completely out of my life because he doesn't love me the same way I love him? I just don't want to deal with any of this. I wish I could just go to bed and never have to get up.

   Starsky's trip home was filled with his own regrets. He's sick and I gotta go and fight with him again. What's wrong with me? I can't shake the feeling, though, that something else is going on with him. And I can't forget him admitting he's seeing a hooker.

   Starsky slammed on his brakes and quickly made a U-turn, ignoring the blaring horns of the other drivers. I don't give a damn about whatever it is you're doing with a hooker. But I do give a damn about you shutting me out. And I do give a damn about you being sick. Enough is enough, Hutchinson. Two things are about to happen. You're going to the doctor, and then we're gonna have a long talk. I didn't spend months getting you back on your feet and walking again to stand by now and let you screw things up.

   Fifteen minutes later, he skidded to a halt in front of Hutch's building. Taking a deep breath he entered the building, climbing the steps two at time to Hutch's apartment. Making no effort at all to be polite, Starsky didn't bother to knock. Using his key, he let himself in, slamming the door behind him. "Hutch...Hutch?"

   Hearing the now almost familiar sounds of Hutch in the bathroom throwing up, Starsky shoved open the bathroom door. Startled, an ashen-faced Hutch turned to find his partner standing in the doorway with a don't-say-a-word look on his face. Wetting a cloth, he wiped the perspiration off Hutch's face. "What the hell are you doing to yourself, buddy? I'm taking you to the doctor. You can't go on like this. I'm gonna go make a phone call. I'll be right back." The tone of his voice made it clear Hutch would have no say in the matter.

   Hutch leaned back against the bathroom wall and sadly watched his partner leave the room. He didn't have the energy to fight. Not that it would matter if he did; Starsky was clearly not going to take no for an answer.

   "It's all set, I called Dr. Martin. We're meeting him at the hospital." Starsky was back and wiping the cool cloth over Hutch's face again.

   "The hospital?" Hutch muttered under his breath.

   "Yeah, the hospital. It took me a while to track the doctor down, but I found him." Starsky tossed the cloth into the sink. "You think you're going to be okay long enough for us to get to the hospital?" Starsky's touch was gentle, but his tone was firm and controlled.

   "Damn it, Starsky, no hospital. I'll make an appointment and go see Dr. Martin in his office." Hutch was not happy with this new turn of events. "Starsky, I'm a grown man; I can go to the doctor by myself. I don't need you to hold my hand."

   "Really?" Starsky raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, but it's all set, Dr. Martin is expecting you. If it's just a bug I don't think they'll keep you in the hospital. We're only going to the hospital because that's where the doctor happens to be right now." Starsky pulled Hutch to his feet.

   Starsky steered a speechless and defeated Hutch out of the bathroom. The hold Starsky had on Hutch's arm was one of firm determination. Why do I have the feeling that if I make a move to pull away from him, we could end up having a knock-down, drag-out fight?

   The ride to the hospital was quiet. Each one sneaking occasional glances at the other from time to time.

   Watching his partner, Starsky wasn't sure he liked this sudden quiet manner of his. He's quiet now, but how long before he blows up and tells me to go to hell? I really expected more of a fight.

   Hutch stared out of the passenger side window. He could feel Starsky's eyes watching him. He's won this one. I'm too tired to fight about anything right now. Things just seem to be going from bad to worse.

   After arriving at the hospital, both men continued their silence as they waited. It was only a short time before Hutch was called in to see the doctor. As he left the waiting room, Hutch turned at the door and gave Starsky an angry look.

   Starsky flipped idly through a magazine, occasionally glancing around at the other occupants of the waiting room. Bored, Starsky got up and headed for the vending machines located just down the hall outside the waiting room. As he stood eating his candy bar, Starsky noticed Hutch and Dr. Martin down the hallway. Hutch looks pretty upset. Dr. Martin seemed to be trying to convince Hutch of something. Starsky watched as Hutch shook his head and appeared to surrender. Then both men moved down the hall, Hutch with slumped shoulders and head down.

   Something's wrong. Where are they going? Starsky stood in the hallway, waiting for Hutch and the doctor to return. When they didn't immediately return, he wandered back into the waiting room. Tossing the half-eaten candy bar into the trash, he finished off the last of his soda and sat down. The clock on the wall showed that an hour had passed since they had arrived at the hospital. What was taking so long? Where had Hutch and the doctor gone? Starsky was beginning to feel very nervous. Something wasn't right. If Hutch doesn't walk through that door in the next few minutes, I'm going to...going to what? Kick down doors 'til I find him?

   Forty-five minutes later, a worried Starsky nervously paced around the now almost empty waiting room. Something must be seriously wrong. I've got to find out what's going on.

   Just as Starsky started to go in search of his partner, Hutch appeared in the doorway of the waiting room. The initial relief Starsky felt quickly faded as he took in the stricken look on Hutch's face. Hutch had looked bad when they arrived but now he looked... "Hutch?"

   Starsky found himself looking into a pair of blue eyes that seemed to be drowning in some kind of pain. Somehow, Starsky didn't think it was physical pain Hutch was feeling right then. Had the doctor given him some bad news?

   "Hutch, what's wrong?" Starsky pushed his growing anxiety away. Hutch was all that was important now.

   "Everything's fine, Starsky. Just take me home."

   Starsky watched as his friend turned and left the room. "Hey, wait up. What did the doctor say?" He reached out and caught Hutch by the arm. "Talk to me."

   "I don't want to talk right now. I want to go home and go to sleep." Pulling free of the hold Starsky had on his arm, Hutch started off again, then stopped suddenly and looked back at the sad figure of his partner. "I'm sorry. I don't feel good and I'm tired, but I shouldn't take it out on you. Look, Starsky, I'm not dying or anything. It's nothing to worry about. Forgive me?" Hutch's eyes pleaded for forgiveness.

   "Yeah, I forgive ya, for being such a jerk." Starsky grinned with relief. "Let me take you home and fix you something to eat. Then I'll tuck you into bed and you get some sleep. We can talk after you're rested."

   "That sounds nice, Starsk." Having Starsky take care of me does sound nice. And we do need to talk. Especially now. Damn doctors.

   "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."

   Hutch was silent most of the way home, his head back against the seat, eyes closed. Starsky couldn't help but notice the strain that seemed etched into the pale face. He's exhausted. He really does look ill. Maybe he was just trying to make me feel better by telling me it's nothing serious.

   Hutch's quiet voice broke the silence. "Starsk, Dr. Martin thinks I need to see a shrink. We set up some appointments. Guess I'm crazy, huh?"

   "What?" Starsky took his eyes off the road briefly to look at Hutch. He didn't like what he saw. Not only did Hutch look ill, but he also looked defeated. Like life had become more than he could handle. Why?

   "Tell me about it, Hutch. Why does Dr. Martin think you need to see this shrink?" Starsky's voice was calm and soothing.

   "He doesn't think I'm sick. He thinks it's all psychosomatic. It's happening again, Starsk. Maybe I really am crazy. I mean, think about it. For years, I kept all my feelings of guilt about that car accident when I was a teenager all bottled up inside of me.

   "You're not psycho anything. Hell, you're not even crazy. Damn it, you're the sanest person I know."

   "Maybe you need to see a shrink then, Starsky." Hutch shook his head, "I'm really screwed up. And it's psychosomatic--meaning all in my head."

   "I know what it means. But I just don't think it applies to you." Starsky pulled the car to a stop in front of Hutch's place. "Come on, I'll fix us something to eat. We can talk later about how crazy both of us are." Starsky's attempt to lighten the mood didn't seem to help much.

   Hutch sighed deeply as he opened the car door and muttered, "I'm not really very hungry."

   "Tough. You're gonna eat something."

   "You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, Starsk. I hope you know that." Hutch slammed the car door.

   "Yep, I know it and I'm proud of it. But I'm also a nice guy sometimes and so I'm gonna forgive you for slamming my car door like that."

   Hutch turned to see his partner with a huge grin plastered on his face. "Yep, Starsky, a real pain in the ass." Hutch had softened his tone. And I wouldn't have you any other way. "I do hope you're going to feed me something edible."

   "I doubt I'll find anything I would consider edible in your kitchen," Starsky grumbled as they made their way up the stairs to Hutch's apartment.

   While Hutch showered, Starsky rummaged through Hutch's cupboards and refrigerator. Finding only the makings of a salad and some yogurt, Starsky decided to settle for a salad and a pizza, and quickly dialed the phone for pizza delivery.

   By the time Hutch was done with his shower, Starsky had assembled a salad and set the table. Starsky watched as Hutch set several prescription bottles down on the counter and then kind of slid them back out of sight.

   "Something to help you feel better?" Starsky asked in a matter-of-fact tone, as he watched Hutch shove the pill bottles to the back of the counter. Not sure what Hutch's mood was, he didn't want to come across as prying or pushy.

   "Yeah, the usual drugs for the crazy person."

   "You're not crazy, damn it!" The pizza delivery guy at the door interrupted Starsky.

   After paying the young delivery kid, he placed the pizza on the table. "Come on and eat."

   Hutch pulled out a chair and sat slumped across the table from Starsky. Hutch watched as Starsky filled both their plates with pizza and salad, but said nothing. Starsky, who was hungry, quickly began eating. Pausing as he reached for another slice of pizza, he noticed Hutch still wasn't eating.

   "Hutch, come on, eat something." Starsky's voice took on a pleading tone. Hutch looked up to see the big blue eyes of his partner also held a pleading look.

   "Don't do that, Starsk."

   "Do what?"

   "Give me that look."

   "What look? All I did was tell you eat something." Starsky's attempt to look innocent didn't fool Hutch one bit.

   "That pleading look you get on your face when you're trying to talk me into something you think is good for me. You know, that mother hen look."

   "Oh, you mean like when you're acting like a little kid who won't eat his vegetables?"

   "Yeah, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." Hutch shoved his chair away from the table.

   "Hutch, I think you are really over-reacting about this whole situation."

   "That's easy for you to say, you're not the crazy one." Hutch slammed his hand down on the table. "I don't know what the hell is happening to me. I want things in my life back the way they used to be before that damn car accident. Nothing has been the same since."

   Starsky felt a sudden rush of guilt as he remembered the day of the accident. He was supposed to pick Hutch up that morning, but instead had let himself be distracted by a toy store. My childish behavior caused Hutch to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now is not the time to do this to yourself. Think about Hutch.

   "Take it easy, Hutch." About to say that Hutch was over-reacting, he caught himself in time. "Look, whatever the problem is, we can handle it. Remember, we make a pretty good team."

   "Good team, yeah, we make a good team." Hutch's voice had a somewhat wistful sound to it.

   He sounds like he thinks our good team is a thing of the past. "Hutch, if you'd just talk to me about what's going on, maybe we can figure out what to do next. You know, I bet if we had a good long talk, we might even figure out what it is that's causing you to be sick. I mean, it's obvious that something must really be bothering you."

   "We do need to talk but not right now, okay? I can't think clearly right now. Can we do it later, Starsk?" I know what's causing it, I just don't know how or even if I should tell you. What will it do to our friendship? I don't expect you to feel the same way, but I feel like I need to tell you. Maybe that's not fair. I don't know what to do. All I know is if I can never have more with you, I don't want to lose what I have now.

   "Sure, we can talk later. After you get some sleep, things will probably look a lot better, too." Starsky pushed a slice of pizza toward Hutch. "Try to eat something. At least some salad. Then I'll clean up and you can get some sleep."

   Hutch nodded, grateful that Starsky was willing to wait for their talk. He needed time to find the words to tell his best friend how things had been changing for him. Hutch took a few bites of the pizza and then moved on to the salad.

   Starsky, relieved to see Hutch eating, stood up and carried his empty plate over to the sink. As he rinsed off the plate, the prescription bottles caught his eye. "You know it might be a good idea for you to take these. You do trust Dr. Martin, don't you?"

   "Of course, I trust him. I just hate the thought of taking any kind of drugs. especially when it's not something physical." Joining Starsky, Hutch placed his dishes in the sink. "I never thought I'd see a time I needed a couple of pills to make it through the day, and then another one to get through the night." Starsky could hear the embarrassment in Hutch's voice. He hates pills. He hates the idea of a shrink.

   "It's not forever." Starsky pulled Hutch into a light embrace. "You go get some sleep now. We'll talk later. You never know, I might make a pretty good shrink." Releasing Hutch, he pushed him in the direction of his bedroom. "Go on."

   "You going to come back later?" Hutch turned to ask his partner.

   "If it's okay with you, I thought I'd just stick around here for a while. Hey, I promise to keep the TV down."

   "It's okay, but wouldn't you rather be with your lady than sitting here in front of my TV?"

   "I'll give her a call. She's a very understanding lady. Plus, she finds me completely irresistible." Starsky gave Hutch a wicked grin.

   "And they think I'm crazy?" Hutch shook his head. "Suit yourself, Starsky."

   Hutch flopped down on the bed. Lacking the energy to even undress, he simply kicked off his shoes and pulled the blanket up over him. Closing his eyes, he tried to put everything out of his mind, wanting only to lose himself in sleep. But the upcoming talk scheduled with Starsky wouldn't budge from his weary mind.

   No way I can get out of it, either. He's camped out in my living room just waiting. If he knew what was coming, he'd probably run like hell. Hutch rolled over on his side trying to get comfortable. Can I really say the words? Can I take the chance of losing the most important person in my life? The actual thought of losing Starsky brought Hutch to a sitting position. I can't lose him. I can deal with him not feeling the same way, but I can't lose him. But it's a chance I have to take, because I sure as hell can't go on like this. The familiar feeling of nausea hit Hutch and he half stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

   Starsky bolted to his feet, hearing Hutch's mad dash for the bathroom. Finding the bathroom door closed, Starsky could only stand there, helplessly listening to the painful sounds of retching. "Hutch, you okay?" No answer. "Hutch?"

   "I'm okay." Hutch's voice sounded strained. Starsky then heard running water. Still respecting the closed door, he waited.

   Finally, the door opened and Hutch stood in the doorway--an utterly pitiful sight. His face was flushed and his whole body seemed to be trembling. "Maybe I will try that stuff Dr. Martin prescribed." His voice was weak, and the fact that he was willing to now follow the doctor's orders told Starsky that Hutch had nearly reached the end of his rope.

   "I'll go get them. You sit down there on the bed. You don't look so good."

   But Hutch had other plans. He followed Starsky out to the kitchen. It's now or never. Tell him!

   Hutch nervously cleared his throat as he stood watching Starsky fill a glass with water. "Starsk, there's something I need to tell you." Hutch felt himself break out in a cold sweat. He gripped the back of one of the chairs tightly, fearing that his knees might give out at any time. "Damn, I don't know how to say this."

   "Here, the label says to take one now and one in the morning." Starsky held out a pill and a glass of water. "Hutch, just tell me whatever it is. Just say it and get it over with."

   Swallowing the pill, Hutch set the glass down on the table and, with a trembling hand, wiped his mouth. "Just say it, huh? Get right to the point? Okay. Starsk, I'm in love with you." Hutch collapsed into the chair he'd been holding onto so tightly. He held his breath, waiting for some reaction from Starsky.

   "Hutch, you know I love you, too." Starsky looked in bewilderment at his friend.

   "No! I'm in love with you, Starsky. I love you as more than a friend." The words rushed out of Hutch's mouth as if afraid if he paused to catch his breath he would lose what little courage he had left.

   Starsky stared at Hutch, the look on his face one of utter shock. "Hutch, what are you talking about? You can't mean..." Starsky found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't believe what his best friend had just said. "You're kidding, right?" It had to be some kind of joke. "Hutch?"

   Starsky stared at Hutch in disbelief. One look at Hutch's face and Starsky knew it was no joke. "Oh, my God, you're serious. This is crazy, Hutch. Totally and completely crazy." Starsky nervously paced around the small kitchen area. "No, it's more than crazy; it's disgusting...perverted. We're partners, best friends. What the hell are you thinking?"

   Starsky stopped his pacing suddenly and turned to face Hutch. "Are you telling me that you're gay?"

   "No, I'm not telling you I'm gay. I'm just telling you that I'm in love with you. I've never felt this way about another man." Hutch struggled to breathe. His chest heaved, and he knew that at any minute he was going to be sick again. "I'm sorry if you find the idea of my loving you so disgusting. Maybe you'd better leave now, Starsky."

   Hutch pulled himself to his feet and moved to the sink, where he splashed cold water on his face. Now is not the time to be sick.

   Turning back to face his partner, Hutch found Starsky looking at him like he was from another planet.

   "I thought I knew you, Hutch. I don't know you at all. You don't really expect me to..."

   "To what, Starsky? To jump into bed with me? No! I don't expect that at all. All I expected was, I don't know, maybe a little understanding, a little compassion. Damn it, Starsky, you're the one who wanted to talk." Hutch knew he was losing control, but he didn't care. Starsky had hurt him. He felt like he had been betrayed in some way. "Yeah, we're quite a team, partner. Glad to know I can count on you."

   "Hutch, come on, you're not being fair. I mean… Well...it's just not normal for you to suddenly..." Starsky knew he wasn't handling this well at all. "Hutch, just calm down a little."

   "Normal? Calm down? I don't think so, Starsky. Remember, I'm the one taking anti-depressants and Valium. I'm the one they think needs to see a shrink. I'm the crazy one." With one swift movement, Hutch sent the pill bottles flying across the room. "Go on, get out of here."

   Starsky stared for a few seconds at his out-of-control partner. Then shaking his head, he turned and headed for the door. "We're not done discussing this."

   "Yeah, we are. We're all done, partner." Moving across the room, Hutch opened the door and motioned Starsky out. Shutting the door, Hutch collapsed onto the floor.

   Well, that went well. My best friend now hates me. He looked so...so repulsed...so disgusted when I told him I was in love with him. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? Leaning back against the door, Hutch tightly squeezed his eyes shut. He would never forget the look on Starsky's face. He found me disgusting. No, not me…it was the idea he found disgusting. Gay, he wanted to know if I was gay. I've really made a mess of things.

   Starsky pounded the steering wheel with his hands, ignoring the smarting pain, angry at Hutch and angry with himself. What the hell was that all about? Maybe, I should've tried pounding some sense into your head, partner. I don't understand any of this. Wondering if he should go back and try to make things right, Starsky looked up toward Hutch's window. No, I need time to sort things out. I need to try and understand what just happened.

   Taking one last look up at the dimly lit window, Starsky slowly pulled away.

   Hutch felt the all too familiar wave of nausea as it hit with full force, causing him to make a hurried trip to the bathroom. But this time he didn't even care. It didn't matter anymore. What mattered most to him was Starsky, and he was gone. Probably for good. The way he looked at me... Weak and exhausted, Hutch curled up on the bathroom floor.

********

   Hutch spent the night alternating between restless sleep and pacing the apartment. By the time the early morning sun made its appearance, Hutch had come to a decision. He would spend the weekend tying up some loose ends--like Sara, and getting the papers signed on the beach house. The papers should have been signed last Friday, but due to his bouts of nausea he had postponed the appointment. Once things were settled, he was leaving. Getting out of town, running away, whatever you want it to call it, that's what I'm doing. I have to; I don't want to face Starsky. I can't face him. For the first time in our friendship, I think we've both let each other down.

   After making a pot of coffee, Hutch gathered up the scattered pill bottles from the floor. Reading the labels on each one, he set them back on the counter. Hating the very thought that he needed the drugs, he was tempted to toss them all in the trash. Don't think about it, just take them. At least I can try them.

   Almost feeling as if Starsky were there encouraging him to take the medication, Hutch swallowed the pills. I'll try them, but just for a while.

   After showering and dressing, Hutch made some phone calls: one to Dr. Martin, one to Captain Dobey, one to Sara, and the last one to the realtor concerning the beach house. He made arrangements to see all of them later that day. As much as he hated to bother Dobey on the weekend, it couldn't be helped. Dobey had grumbled a bit about his weekend being disturbed, but Hutch could tell he didn't really mean it. Sometimes Dobey just grumbled out of habit.

   Within three hours, Hutch had signed the papers on the beach house and arranged a medical leave. Dr. Martin had been concerned about Hutch leaving town and going off alone, but agreed it was probably best if he took some time away from the job. Dobey wanting only what was best for Hutch, promised to handle all the necessary paperwork first thing Monday morning. Hutch hadn't mentioned he'd be leaving town for a while or the fact that Starsky didn't know anything about Hutch's plans. He wanted to be long gone before anyone missed him. I'll have to make sure I cover my tracks a bit, on the off chance my partner may look for me.

   Signing the papers on the beach house and picking up the keys just didn't seem that important without Starsky to share it. Starsky's enthusiasm would have made the event a celebration. Instead, it was just a legal formality, but it was over and done with and Hutch now owned a house. Starsky would've enjoyed this. I'd have made a big deal out of presenting him with his own key. A feeling of great loss came over Hutch. No point now in dwelling on what might have been. Maybe someday in the future?

   Hutch pulled up in front of Venice Place and sat, trying to muster up the energy to move his tired body out of the car and up the stairs. It's going to be a long weekend. So much to get done. Sara would be coming over soon. With a tired sigh, Hutch forced himself out of the car and up the stairs.

   Rather than taking a nap before Sara arrived, Hutch made himself some soup. He didn't have much of an appetite but he knew he should eat, so he forced down as much as he could. Rinsing out his dishes, he glanced up at the clock and realized Sara would be arriving shortly. Kind of strange having Sara coming here. But then it was kind of strange me going there. Might as well face it, Hutchinson, this relationship you have with a hooker is way beyond strange.

   The phone rang, breaking the stillness of the apartment and causing Hutch to nearly drop the glass he held in his hand. He stared at the phone, wishing he'd thought to take it off the hook. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. Especially Starsky. What if it's Starsky? What do I say to him? And what if it's not Starsky?

   Never having been able to ignore a ringing phone, Hutch reached out and, with some foreboding, picked up the receiver. "Hello." His voice sounded awkward and fearful, even to himself. What am I afraid of...that he's going to tell me he wants a new partner...a new best friend. Yes, damn it, I'm afraid. I don't want to hear that disgust in his voice again. And I know I'm not ready to hear him say it's over.

   "Hutch?"

   Hearing Starsky's voice on the other end of the phone, Hutch hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions.

   "Hutch, talk to me." Starsky's voice was thick and unsteady. Come on, buddy, somehow we have to deal with this. I'm not sure how, but we have to try.

   Talk to you? I did that last night and look what happened. Hutch broke out in a cold sweat. I can't. I can't go through it again. Not now. I'm sorry. With a trembling hand, Hutch quietly hung up the phone.

   He hung up on me. Starsky felt as if he'd been stabbed in the heart. Is this how Hutch felt last night? A disturbing thought began to form in his mind. What if this can't be fixed? This could be the end of our partnership, the end of our friendship. There has to be something I can do.

   I have to see him, face-to-face. We just can't leave things the way they are. I canceled on Dana last night. It wouldn't be fair to do it again tonight. But right after I drop her off, I'm going to see Hutch.

   A panic stricken Hutch jumped at the sound of a knock at the door. Calm down. It can't be Starsky. It's probably Sara.

   "God, you look awful," were the first words out of Sara's mouth when Hutch opened the door. She was shocked to see the good-looking detective so pallid and fatigued looking.

   "That bad, huh?"

   "Are you sick? Have you been to the doctor?" Sara's voice was heavily tinged with concern. Despite the fact that Hutch had started out as just another paying customer, she cared a lot about him. After their first night together, she'd known he was someone special. Probably because he'd been the first person in a long time to show any kind of concern for her.

   "Yes, for all the good it did, I did go to the doctor. Now can we talk about you instead of me?" Hutch spoke with a trace of bitterness. The memory of Starsky and the insistent manner in which he'd forced Hutch to seek help was still fresh in his mind. Was it only about twenty-four hours ago that my partner had hustled me off to the doctor? Only to later look at me with disgust.

   "Remember it's you and school we're supposed to be talking about, not me and how lousy I look."

   "Fine. Whatever you say, but you don't have to get so upset with me for being a little worried about you." Sara sat down at the kitchen table. "Well, let's get this over with."

   Hutch placed a pile of catalogs on the table. "You can look these over and see what you think. Any ideas on what you'd like to do?"

   "I'm not sure. I never really thought I had much of a future to worry about. So I haven't really given much thought to what I'd like to do with my life." Sara's voice was matter-of-fact. "I'm just happy I made it through high school. And I barely did that."

   "Sara, you don't really want to continue on the way you are now, do you?"

   "No, I don't. But why are you so intent on helping me?"

   "Why not? I like you. You need some help and I can help." Hutch finally took a seat across the table from her. "Friends help friends." Hutch handed her a piece of paper on which he had listed some possible job opportunities. "Maybe you can find something here."

   "You consider me a friend?" Sara looked thoughtfully at Hutch. "It's been a while since I've had anyone I could call a friend." A small smile curved her mouth.

   "Well, I hope you consider me more than..." Hutch was embarrassed by what he had been about to say.

   "Hey, I only think of you as a friend." Sara's spoke softly trying to keep the blond from going off on one of his guilt trips. It had been obvious from the very beginning that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt about the relationship they shared. "I've never thought of you as just a paying customer. Hell, I never even wanted your money. I just enjoy being with you." Sara's face showed some sadness as she reached across the table and gently squeezed Hutch's hand. "I sometimes wish things could be different. That we could be more than friends. I could very easily fall in love with you."

   "Believe me, that's something you really don't want to do." Hutch patted her hand. "If I were a sane man with any sense at all, I'd take you up on that offer."

   "I kind of wish you would," Sara sighed softly. "I like being with you."

   "You can do a lot better than a burned-out, middle-aged cop."

   "Could do a lot worse, too." Sara grinned. "Am I making you nervous?"

   "Maybe a little." Hutch attempted a small grin. "I'd like to help you make your life better, not mess it up more."

   "Ken, you really shouldn't be so down on yourself. Talk to me about what's eating at you so bad that it's making you sick. Remember, I'm a pretty good listener."

   "It's you we're supposed to be talking about." Hutch pointed toward the catalogs on the table.

   "I can look them over anytime. Remember...friends help friends. Let me help you."

   "You can't help me. Nobody can help me. I just have to learn to accept certain things."

   Sara could hear the pain in Hutch's voice. "You're talking about your partner? It might help to talk about it."

   "I already tried that. I tried to talk to him." Hutch pushed back his chair and stood up. "I just made a mess of things. I should've just kept my mouth shut." Running his hands distractedly through the fine blond strands of his hair, he moved away from the table. "I've lost the best friend I ever had. I don't know what I'm going to do."

   The look of pain in Hutch's blue eyes nearly brought tears to Sara's own eyes.

   "Don't even think that. From the little you've told me, I'm sure the two of you will be able to work things out." Sara was now out of her chair and standing next to Hutch.

   "You know, I think if you got some rest, things would look a lot better. You look like you haven't had a good night's sleep in a while."

   "I can't seem to sleep anymore, unless I take of couple of sleeping pills. God, I hate that."

   Sara reached and took hold of Hutch's arm. "Come on, you're going to bed now. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

   Hutch's first instinct was to object, but as tired as he was, he didn't have the strength to put up a fight. Like a child, he allowed himself to be led to bed. Sleep would be an escape from his tormented thoughts.

   With her hand still on Hutch's arm, Sara gave him a gentle push, sitting him down on the bed. Reaching down, she slid off his shoes and socks. "There, isn't that better?" Next, she unbuttoned his shirt, but just as she was about to slide it off his shoulders, Hutch took over.

   "I can do it."

   After removing his shirt, Hutch stood and pulled off his jeans. Sara pulled back the covers and motioned for Hutch to get into bed.

   "I can take care of myself."

   "I know you can, but maybe I'd like to feel needed. You know, be a friend."

   "You remind me of another pain in the ass I know." Hutch gave a tired smile. "I must attract them."

   "You should consider yourself lucky, then. You have two people who care enough about you to want to take care of you."

   "I'm not so sure about that anymore." Hutch slid into bed and watched as Sara turned off the light. Expecting her to leave, he was surprised to hear her shoes fall softly to the floor and, before he knew it, she had slipped into bed and pulled him close to her.

   "What are you doing?"

   "Don't ask questions, just go to sleep." Sara began to rub Hutch's back, and he couldn't help but feel himself relax. "See, doesn't that feel good? Now just close your eyes and let yourself drift off. Don't fight it."

   Hutch had to admit it did feel good. I'm just so damn tired. Tired and scared. What have I done?

   "Sara, do you really think there's a chance I can work things out with Starsky?" Hutch's voice sounded drowsy. "I miss him so much already."

   "Yeah, I'm sure things will work out. You just go to sleep now." Sara kept up her gentle rubbing of Hutch's back and shoulders.

   When Hutch's breathing had evened out and Sara was sure he was asleep, she silently slipped out of the bed, pulling the covers up around the slumbering blond.

********

   Starsky pulled away from Dana's apartment. He was relieved the evening was over and he could swing by Hutch's on his way home. Dana had kept up a steady stream of excited conversation about a possible job interview next week. But it hadn't taken her long to realize that Starsky's mind was elsewhere. She had insisted Starsky take her home and go and try to fix whatever the problem was with Hutch. But she had also insisted that tomorrow was going to be their day. No problems. No Hutch. Just the two of them. And that's just as it should be. Then why is so hard to put Dana first?

   After writing a note to Hutch, Sara gathered up the catalogs from the table. I won't let him down. I'll look these over and make some choices. Looking in on Hutch one last time before leaving, Sara gazed down at the sleeping man. He looks so vulnerable. So childlike. And so sad and lost. That partner of his better come to his senses fast. Reaching down, she brushed some of the fine strands of blond hair off his forehead. You've given me so much hope, lately. I wish I could do more for you. But I promise you that I'll make you proud. I'll make something of myself.

   Sara didn't pay much attention to the red Torino that had pulled up outside the building as she made her way down the stairs. Her thoughts were on the sleeping man upstairs. She had decided she would return the next day to see how he was doing. Maybe he would feel more like talking.

   Hutch's car was parked outside his building, but Starsky looked up to a dark apartment. No light shone in the window. You sitting in the dark, Hutch? Are you sitting there thinking about how I let you down? I'm gonna make it up to you. I'm here now and we're gonna talk. There's got to be a way to make things right between us.

   Just as Starsky was about to slide out of the car, the door to Hutch's building opened. Hutch? The soft glow from the streetlight revealed it was not Hutch, but a young woman. Starsky studied the woman as she stood in front of the building, adjusting the books she carried in her arms. She was young and pretty, and had a look of innocence to her. Looking up toward Hutch's window again, the thought crossed Starsky's mind that Hutch was probably sleeping now. Sleeping after screwing this hooker through the mattress, Hutchinson? Man, you're really messed up, partner. In love with me and fucking some hooker every chance you get. The idea of Hutch and this hooker made Starsky feel uneasy.

   Starsky watched as the young woman headed down the street. Not really knowing why, he pulled away from the curb and slowly followed her. Why is Hutch spending so much time with you? Sex? You really don't look like Hutch's type. But then what type of hooker do I think Hutch would be interested in?

   Suddenly unsure what approach to take with Hutch and feeling even more confused, Starsky watched as the young woman entered her hotel, then he drove on. For the first time in our friendship, I don't have a clue what I should do or say. Starsky drove around aimlessly for a while, desperately trying to come up with a solution to the unexpected turn his life had taken.

   Not finding any answers, Starsky turned and headed toward home. Maybe tomorrow would bring some solution.

PART THREE