Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They are owned by someone else. Therefore I am receiving no money from writing about them, just the satisfaction of keeping them alive.

I owe so much to my good friend, Anna, who worked long and hard polishing this story into what it is. Many helpful suggestions and twists of plot came from her. I'd also like to thank another good friend, Liz, for a couple suggestions that were quite helpful.

Sequel to 'The Sand Dollar'.

Comments about this story can be sent to: Lrs4147@aol.com 

Winds Of Change

By

Anne S

   "Enough, Starsk, this has got to stop!" Ken Hutchinson had decided it was time to talk some reason into his partner. Ever since their stay in Crestview, Starsky had been taking the word "macho" to new and highly elevated levels. Hutch had been understanding, knowing that his friend had been molested by four men during their case there, but it was beginning to show up in their work. The dark-haired detective had been treating their suspects in a manner that bordered on police brutality and nothing Hutch had tried to say or do seemed to have any effect on the man. He’d been drinking a lot and every night spent with him at Huggy's was an adventure in the making. Last night, for example, he’d gotten into it with a customer who wanted to use the pool table, and ended up "calling him out," resulting in a major brawl which had forced Huggy to ban them from The Pits until Starsky could get his act together. They’d ended up at another joint, and at the evening’s end, Hutch had to help his extremely soused friend up the steps to his apartment. It was morning, they had a rare weekend off, and Hutch had taken enough!

   "Enough what?" Starsky fired back.

   "Enough of this act you’re putting on. Do you even remember last night? You’re becoming a one-man sideshow! Starsk, I love you and I know what you’re going through, but you got to get a handle on this before it’s too late. You don’t need to prove to us you’re a real man. Nobody could have gone through all the crap you have and stayed strong, if he wasn’t. Why are you pulling these stunts?"

   "Maybe I need to prove it to myself, you ever think of that?"

   "Sure, I’m not dumb, I know what’s going through that mind of yours, but is it helping? It looks to me like you’re only proving how stupid you can be. You better talk to somebody about this, before Dobey makes sure you do. He’ll have you seeing the department shrink. Is that what you want?"

   "I won’t do it! I’ll quit the force before I’ll do that!" Starsky answered belligerently.

   "You’d give up on us that easily? I don’t understand that, Starsk. I-I thought I meant more than that to you." Hutch said, with uncertainty, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

   "Maybe nothing means anything to me anymore! Maybe I shouldn’t even be here! Maybe I’ll just go home!" Starsky raged. "Maybe you’ll never see me again!" He ran out the door, slamming it behind him.

   Hutch was tempted to run after him, but was just aggravated enough at his partner to let him go. After all, the Torino was still parked at Huggy’s and he figured maybe Starsky would be more easy to talk sense to by the time he either walked off his anger or had to hunt down a cab. Anyway, as much as he cared for his best friend, this was a subject that he just couldn’t relate to. He’d never had the problems defending his masculinity that Starsky had on the streets of New York. He was secure in his maleness, but had no idea how he would react if he’d been abused like his partner had. There seemed to be nothing left to say, and every attempt to talk it out had only aggravated the situation further. He felt fairly sure that Starsky was just blowing off steam tonight, but he was hurt at the thought that the other half of the dynamic duo would let go so easily of the nine-year relationship that had been so successful and satisfying to both of them. This was the first thing that had threatened to come between them since Kira, and he still had trouble understanding that. He did know his feelings for his partner had subtly changed since then, become more protective, more intense in a way he couldn’t quite understand. And now this! He cursed Garson and his bunch for what they’d done, how they’d changed Starsky into a defensive, insecure, and emotionally crippled man. Even Gunther hadn’t been able to do that.

   He busied himself with his plants; it helped him get his mind off his feelings. Soon he realized it was dark outside the confines of his greenhouse and decided to try calling his partner. No answer. He sighed, it was still early. I wish I knew where he was, I wish I could help, I wish I knew what I could do for him. What was the quote " If wishes were horses, even beggars could ride", or something like that? What good did wishes do now? He couldn’t even help himself, let alone his best friend. There was something he was missing.

   He got a beer from the fridge and sat down to watch the Lakers' game, used to Starsky’s running commentary that definitely made the game more interesting. He hadn’t been seeing women much lately, couldn’t even think of anyone he could call just for some companionship in place of his blue-eyed, curly-haired demon of a partner. He found himself assessing Starsky’s other fine points and was shocked at the realization that he was thinking of the man more as a date than a buddy. What the hell was happening to his mind? Was he getting so self-satisfied with life that he was ready to give up women and spend all his time with a partner who felt like he had to be constantly "one-upping" him? He didn’t think so! Maybe he needed to distance himself from Starsky a little and dig out his black book.

   Hutch forced the whole thing out of his mind, determined that he wouldn’t seek out his partner the rest of the weekend and that he would look diligently for female companionship in the morning and throw himself into a dating frenzy for the whole weekend. Sleep didn’t come easily, as his partner kept creeping back into the dark corners of his mind, but finally he slept, dreamless and serene.

   His partner was not as lucky. He’d waited for Hutch to call him, and when the call didn’t come, he’d sought solace in finding the bottom of a bottle. He’d finally passed out on the couch watching the same Lakers' game, no witty, running commentary. His dreams were replays of the whole rape scene in all its vivid detail.

   His "coming-to" in the morning was an experience he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. He couldn’t even raise his head off the pillow and got into the bathroom by crawling on his hands and knees, because he was afraid if he stood up, his head would split wide open. He lay back down and gave some thought to what Hutch was telling him last night. It wasn’t that he didn’t know he had a problem. It was all he thought about. It affected every area of his life. His work, his encounters with women, his relationship with Hutch. He especially regretted that. There was just something missing in his life now. There was no joy, nothing to look forward to. He was losing that feeling that most people had some good in them. Now he felt he'd been looking at life unrealistically. In his work, he saw things everyday that made him doubt God. He was beginning to wonder why man existed. Was there no goodness in human beings? The winds of change are here, he sighed deeply, hell, it’s a blasted hurricane. I can’t get up every morning and do this anymore, put my life out there on the line for someone who calls me a pig and then wants me to help them when they’re in trouble. The best thing I could do would be to quit entirely.

   Unaware of his partner’s troubled thoughts, Hutch went about his day, keeping himself busy. He’d managed to convince a former girlfriend to have dinner with him and he was getting dressed when Starsky suddenly burst in the door, carrying a big basket and some bags. His eyes were bulging out of his head and he looked like there was someone chasing him. Hutch started to reach for his gun, but Starsky put his paraphernalia down and grabbed him by the arm.

   "Hutch, ya gotta help me!" He was out of breath and sweating.

   "What the hell is going on with you now?" Hutch asked irritably.

   Starsky just pointed to the basket and the blond detective went over closer to it.

   "Geez, it’s a baby!"

   "No kiddin'," Starsky retorted, just as irritably. "Ya know, it’s brilliant conclusions like that make me think maybe ya ought to consider a career in police work."

   "Hey, don’t give me any of your hassle. You’ve been treating me like a second-cousin, twice removed, lately, and now you just bust in here and insult me?"

   "Okay, okay, I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk…."

   "...a dirt bag and a scum ball."

   "...dirt bag, scum ball. Dammit, Hutch, I need some help here!"

   "All right, I forgive you. Now, whose baby is this?"

   Looking miserable, Starsky handed him a note that had Dave written in big letters on it. Hutch unfolded it and started to read.

   Dear Dave,

   He studied the sleeping baby carefully. Dark curls framed the chubby face, her chin and mouth were very similar to his partner's. The nose, who could tell? Starsky’s had been broken so many times that even he probably didn’t remember what it looked like originally. Same dark, slightly exotic coloring, same tilted eyes. He kinda figured when they were open they’d be a deep blue color. He looked back at the panicked man.

   "She sure looks a lot like you, pal. Could be another Starsky in the world. Can you think who the mother might be?"

   "A year ago? There were two, maybe three around that time frame, I’d say."

   "Three that you had sex with? Unprotected sex, at that?" Hutch raised his voice, preparing to deliver one of his lectures, startling the infant, who started to cry.

   "Now look what you’ve done!" Starsky grumbled.

   He delicately picked up the baby to hold her against his shoulder and realized he had his gun on, so he handed her to Hutch, who set her down on his lap. He immediately got a look of distaste on his face.

   "Yep, she’s a Starsky, all right, rude to the core." He lifted her up and showed his partner the sizable wet spot on the leg of his jeans. "My suggestion is that you change her before you do anything else."

   Starsky started going through the things in the basket, which included a few disposable diapers, some bottles, a couple cans of formula and a small, yellow teddy bear. He took off his jacket, holster and gun and got a towel from the bathroom. Taking the baby from Hutch, he put her down on the couch and gently worked on the pajamas she was wearing until he had them off. It took him some time to figure out the diaper, but he did a reasonably good job, enough to make an impression on his amused partner. The baby looked up at Starsky and gurgled and Hutch could see the man's heart was lost. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue and she looked up and smiled like she’d known him all her life. Hutch was getting a warm, fuzzy feeling watching the two of them.

   His friend’s voice broke into his reverie.

   "What do we do with her, Hutch?"

   "What do you mean 'what do we do with her'? Love her, take care of her, protect her. Were you thinking of taking her to the animal shelter or something?"

   "That’s not what I meant! How can I take care of her? I’m gone all day, work crazy hours, I can’t take proper care of her. How can ya give a kid enough love if you’re never around?"

   "Starsk, you’re not listening to me. She’s here, she’s yours and you have no choice in the matter now. What are your options? Put her up for adoption? Could you do that and never see her again?"

   Starsky took another quick look at that face, gulped and shook his head vehemently.

   "No, of course not!"

   "Then let’s figure out how we can rearrange our lives to fit her."

   "But, you…she…it’s a big imposition in your life to help me take care of her."

   "An imposition? In the first place, I’ll love her like she’s mine, just because she belongs to you, and in the second place, I fully expect to be allowed to do the whole "Uncle Hutch" thing. Probably be the closest I get to having one of my own. I’ll let you handle all the dirty diapers, though."

   "Uhn-uh, one for all, all for one, "Uncle Hutch". Are you sure about this?"

   "I am sure she’s getting hungry. You’d better start figuring out how to mix up some of that formula before long." Sara was starting to get fussy and was making her wishes known in no uncertain terms.

   "Okay, okay, hang in there, Tiger, I’ll whip ya up something to eat in just a second. You don’t have to cook this stuff or anything, do you, buddy?"

   "Here, give it to me. I’ve watched my sister do this a couple of times. I think you just mix it with water." Hutch grabbed up the bottle and the formula and headed for the kitchen, while his partner picked the baby up and held her close to him, jiggling her and murmuring soothing words to her.

   While Starsky fed Sara, Hutch was trying to explain to a very irate former girlfriend why their plans for the evening had to be canceled. She wasn’t being understanding about it and Hutch could tell calling her in the future would get him nothing but humiliation. He felt a little annoyed with his irresponsible partner, but knew this was one new dad who needed him right now.

   "Hey, buddy," Starsky bragged. "She ate it all. Now what do we do?"

   "How about that, she even has your appetite. You can’t deny this one, Starsk. Now hold her on your shoulder and pat her back. That gets the air out."

   Starsky dutifully did as he was instructed.

   "Oh, geez, Hutch," he whined, "that ain’t air. Is she all right?"

   Now it was Hutch’s turn to laugh at the disgusted look on Starsky’s face.

   "Sorry, man, I should have suggested a towel. I forgot babies tend to spit up a lot."

   "You sure you forgot? You’re not just a little mad at me still for showin’ up on your doorstep when you’re getting ready for a big date?"

   "Don’t get me started, Gordo, leave well enough alone. This was the first date I’ve had in, I don’t know how long. Aw, look, Starsk. She looks just like you do when you’re sleeping."

   Sara had indeed fallen asleep in Starsky’s arms and was sucking on her bottom lip.

   "You don’t mean I do that when I’m asleep?"

   "No, I’m just talking about the resemblance. She sure is a good baby. I’m falling for her already."

   Starsky got up to put the sleeping baby back into the basket. He covered her and turned back toward his partner. Hutch could read the naked statement on his face, and it definitely wasn’t the one he expected to see there. This one was pure fear. He laid his hand on Starsky's shoulder.

   "Okay, babe, what’s up? Why are you so scared about this? I told you I’d help you. You know I’m always there for you, don’t you?"

   "It’s not that, Hutch. I’m just beginnin' to realize how damn screwed-up this world is. If I had a choice about it, I wouldn’t bring another kid into it, but now I don’t have a vote in the matter. The people around me have a history of gettin’ hurt or dead, too. I have enough on my hands just worryin' about losin' you all the time. Now I got a defenseless baby. What if Prudholm, Marcus, Gunther, or any of the other sickos out there who want me bad, go after her? God, Hutch, I just can’t stand thinkin' about that!"

   "They’re all in jail, you know that, Starsk. They’re not liable to get out, not in this lifetime, buddy."

   "One of 'em did already. There’s no justice. Where are my guarantees, huh?"

   "There are no guarantees, babe. You’ve just got to take what life dishes out and trust people to be there for you along the way. There are good people in this world, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

   "The eternal optimist, thought that was my role. Gotta get up for Sara, though. She needs a dad who can function like one." Starsky said bleakly.

   "Hey, I say you need some sleep. Sara will probably be putting in an appearance around two in the morning, unless she’s one of those exceptional babies who sleeps through the night at this age. She’ll want to be fed and changed."

   "Two o’clock? She’s going to get me up at two every morning?"

   "Babies like to be fed around every four hours, Starsk. They don’t have very big stomachs, unlike some others I could name, who can devour Cleveland at a single sitting."

   "Kick a guy when he’s down, Blintz. Since you seem to be thrilled by the whole proposition, why don’t you get up and take care of her?"

   "Maybe I’ll do just that, moron. I don’t understand your attitude. Here’s this absolutely beautiful new life, your new life, and all you can do is grumble. What’s got into your mind, anyway? I’ve never seen you like this."

   "Just thinkin’ of the future, that’s all, and it’s not a pretty picture."

   Insisting Starsky take the bed, Hutch kept Sara in the living room with him, but he missed hearing her, and when he got up to use the bathroom at four, he walked in the bedroom to see his partner propped up in bed with her lying on his chest. In spite of all his caustic words, Starsky had succumbed to fatherhood and looked like he was enjoying it. Hutch flopped down next to him.

   "Isn’t she somethin', Hutch?"

   "She sure is, buddy. I envy you. Her first words, beginning to walk, someday you’ll be walking her down the aisle."

   "And you’re goin' to be right there on the other side all the way, Blondie. I can’t begin to do this without ya."

   "You don’t need to ask me twice. I’m in for the long haul," Hutch said enthusiastically.

   "What are we gonna do with her this morning? We have to go to work in a couple hours."

   "Why don't you call Minnie? You can talk her into anything, stud that you are. She's working nights, so we can take Sara in with us and she can pick her up and take her home."

   "Sounds like a plan, I'll call her right away."

   Dead silence reigned in the squad room that morning when Starsky walked in carrying a baby, Hutch following with the basket. Everyone was too stunned for a few minutes to come up with any comments. Dobey was just coming out of his office, though, and he'd never had a reputation for being speechless.

   "What in hell are you doing with that baby, Starsky? You're not taking her on patrol with you! Whose child is it?"

   "Well, Cap'n, she's my kid," Starsky said proudly, ignoring the snickers that were starting behind his back. "I'm not plannin' on taking her on patrol, Minnie's going to take care of her for me till I can find someone to watch her regularly."

   In spite of himself, Dobey was drawn in by the deep blue eyes studying him so intently, eyes that looked as mischievous as the other ones he knew so well. Everyone in the squad room was startled to see him approach Sara and stroke her cheek, then he realized what he was doing and composed himself.

   "Well, just see that she's out of here and down to Records right away. This is a workplace, not a nursery!" He turned on his heel and sped back into his office.

   "Yes, Cap'n," Starsky said, grinning over at Hutch. "He's hooked, too."

   Dobey stuck his head out of his office.

   "If you need any help with that child, call on Edith. I'm sure she'd love to be involved."

   "Thanks, Cap'n."

   Minnie dashed in right then and whisked Sara out of there just before all the usual wisecracks started flying. Most of the guys, of course, were very willing to advise Starsky to use a condom next time, in the time-honored manner of men who are clueless.

   By the time they hit the streets, they were running late. Hutch could see that Starsky was still deeply worried and he was about to broach the subject when they got a call.

   "Here we go, first thing in the morning, you'd think people could wait till after lunch at least to do this crap," Starsky muttered darkly to himself, as he wheeled the car around in a circle to head back the other way. Hutch slapped the Mars light on the Torino and held on.

   The call had come from a tenement building. When they arrived, they found uniformed officers already there and keeping people from the crime scene. They walked into a tiny, dirty apartment totally unprepared to see a small body lying on the floor. It was a child, around three years old, who had apparently been beaten to death. There was no else around. Hutch's first concern was for his partner, who took this sort of thing harder than anyone, to begin with, and now… His partner was nowhere to be seen.

   He pushed his way through the crowd outside and found Starsky sitting in the passenger seat of the Torino, resting his head on the dashboard.

   "Starsk? You okay?"

   His partner laughed, a short, bitter bark of derision.

   "Nothing's okay, can't you see that? Doesn't that White Knight mindset ever leave you? I thought we were going to make a difference in the world. Damn, we can't even keep kids from gettin' killed in their own homes. I've got to get out of this, Hutch. I've got Sara to think of now. I can't do this anymore."

   "Come on, babe, we'll talk about this later. We've got a job to do now."

   "Nothin's gonna make me go back in there, Hutch. I mean it. Nothin'.

   "Okay, buddy, let me do this one alone. You wait right here and I'll call for another unit to help. We'll make some sense out of it, all right?"

   Starsky just looked at him like he was certifiable. "How can you make any sense out of something like this, Hutch, tell me?"

   This time Hutch was speechless.

   Later, at Huggy's, Starsky drank several beers until his partner cut him off, reminding him that they needed to pick up Sara so Minnie could get some sleep. The dark-haired detective relinquished the wheel to Hutch and they headed for Minnie's. She fussed over the baby and puzzled over Starsky's lack of participation. Hutch thanked her and put the basket in the back of the Torino. He then drove them to Starsky's, dragged him and the baby up the stairs, got her settled for the night and turned to his recalcitrant partner. Hutch pushed him down on the couch. When he tried to get up, he shoved him back down. Starsky made a move to get up again, but Hutch warned him, "Stay put, Starsk, or so help me, I'm going to inflict some serious damage on you! Do you want to explain to Dobey why you're in the hospital, 'cause your partner tried to pound some sense into you? Life goes on, man, and you need to snap out of this for that little baby who's depending on you."

   "Mind your own business, Hutchinson!"

   Starsky took a swing at Hutch and missed, landing face down on the floor. Hutch, by this time, sick of his friend's attitude, knelt against his back, pulled out his handcuffs and quickly secured his arms to the leg of the couch. Starsky, shocked, rolled over and stared at him.

   "NOW, are you going to listen to me?" Hutch yelled in his face.

   Starsky explained in a extremely loud voice what he was planning to do to Hutch when he got loose, then he kicked out at him.

   Hutch was thoroughly ticked now. Throwing one leg over his partner, he sat on him. He looked down into the eyes blazing with deep, blue fire. After a minute Starsky tried to turn his face away. Hutch grabbed on to the springy dark curls and held his head so Starsky had to look at him.

   "YOU ARE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME, if I have to gag you. You need help, Starsk, and I'm going to see that you get it! I know about all the evil people there are in this world. I've been hurt by them, too. Remember Gillian, you helped me through that. What would I have done without you when Ben Forrest grabbed me and got me hooked on heroin? There's lots of bad out there, man, but there's lots of good, too. Go look at the face of that little baby, if you don't believe me. You can make all the difference in her life. And what about me, you think I don't need you? I love you, but I'm not hanging around to see you do this to yourself, so make a decision, Starsky, what's it going to be? Are you going to let me help you through this or do I walk?"

   Hutch was startled to see the fire dissolve into pools of water, as the tears came. He'd never seen Starsky like this. There had been times when his friend had "lost it", but he seemed to be reliving the rape, all the feelings of shame and anger that he'd never gotten out were flowing freely, along with the tears and pain that he'd been holding in and trying to deal with on his own. Hutch laid down on the floor beside Starsky and held him until he quieted.

   "Shh, babe, shh, I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do, you've got to let it go. What was done to you was terrible, but you didn't do anything to cause it and it didn't make you any less of a man. You were a victim of rape, just like millions of other people. It's not really even sexual in nature, you know that. You've counseled other people. Why can't you let this go?"

   "It's a whole helluva lot different when it happens to you, Blondie. Guess you've proved you're right, though, I obviously can't just hold it all in. I'll go talk to somebody about it, if it makes you feel better, okay? In the meantime, ya wanna set me free?"

   "That depends, Starsk. You planning on getting even?"

   "Not now, buddy boy, but I sure as hell know what to do when ya get into one of your stubborn streaks!"

   Hutch unfastened the cuffs. It had been a last resort, a desperate attempt to reach his often, very obstinate partner, and he had his doubts if he could actually have walked away from his best friend, but he knew it had brought the catharsis that was needed.

   If he ever required being restrained in order to listen to reason, he had absolute faith in his partner to do what was necessary. That was the nature of their relationship. The love and caring were there.

   As soon as he was released, Starsky grabbed his partner and gave him a fierce hug.

   "Sorry I made ya do that, Blondie, I guess I was gettin' pretty out of control. Would ya really have left me?"

   "I don't know, Starsk, you were beginning to get me pretty steamed. You can be a real pain in the ass when you want to be."

   Starsky raised his eyebrows and grinned, "Who, me?"

   Hutch just rolled his eyes and got up off the floor, holding his hand out to help his friend up.

   "You move pretty fast for an old guy, partner. I think I'll do my best to stay on your good side from now on. Or if I can't do that, I'll at least try to stay sober so ya can't get the drop on me," he griped.

   "You'd better, or you'll be getting more of the same," Hutch said in a mock threatening tone, "And if my memory serves me, you're a little older than I am, aren't you?"

   "Aw, Hutch, I love it when ya get bossy." The blond endured another hug from his wisecracking companion, before reminding Starsky that they were still assigned to the Brandon Walker case, the little boy from that afternoon.

   "Okay, I'll call and have all the information sent over and we'll go over it," Starsky volunteered. "I'll have a pizza delivered, too. I'm starved."

   Hutch groaned. The man was back, appetite and all. He wasn't naïve enough to think everything was back to normal again, but it was a start. He hoped Starsky would go through with his promise to talk to someone about his problem. Remembering Sara, Hutch disappeared into the bedroom to check on her, finding she'd slept blissfully through the whole spectacle.

   Edith Dobey swept into the picture, taking the baby during the day, interviewing baby-sitters and trying to help get things squared away for "her boys", as she considered them, so they could both spend quality time with Sara, while keeping their schedule flexible enough for them to be on the move when they needed to be. They hired a middle-aged woman, Joan Hellman, who would watch Sara through the day and, between her and Edith, they were covered if they had a night call. Huggy, surprisingly, offered his help, and after being interrogated by Starsky about his qualifications, he admitted that he'd helped raise 7 brothers and sisters, having been the oldest sibling with no father and a mother who worked.

   Attempts to find Sara's mother were made, but two of the women Starsky had been involved with had moved out of state and the other one denied flatly that she had any part in the matter.

   Brandon Walker's mother turned out to have an alibi and seemed to be grief-stricken about her son's death. The father's whereabouts were unknown, as well as Brandon's sitter, a 16-year-old boy from the apartment next door. After questioning the sitter's mother, an APB was put out on the 16-year-old, and the case seemed to be on hold. It was assumed that he'd impulsively done something to the child and then fled.

   The next day, there was another call for Zebra-three. This time it was across town, where another child, a girl, just a year old, had been bludgeoned to death. This one hit both of them really hard. The little girl had dark, curly hair and blue eyes. The parents were well to do and above suspicion, as they were each at work. Once again, the nanny, a 26-year-old woman was missing. An APB was put out on her, also, but her references were impeccable. A shocking pattern was emerging. Both children had been sexually molested.

   As the days went on there was one more murder, a three-year-old girl, same MO, no sitter found. Then there was silence, nothing for the next four days. Every time they dropped Sara off in the morning, there was palpable fear in the Torino, the two of them so scared for her that they didn't even talk anymore unless they had no choice, each cop lost in his own private hell on Earth.

   Around noon, they were at Metro, getting caught up on paperwork, when they got the word that there had been a call from Joan Hellman's neighborhood. A small convenience store in the area was reporting a disturbance. When they got there, Starsky and Hutch found a distraught mother who'd run into the store for just a moment and had returned to her car to see a man running away with her nine-month-old son. She pointed out to them the direction he'd gone and claimed that he didn't seem to have a car, so they set out on foot to see if they could sight him. The mother had been able to give them a reasonably good description of him, so they split up and quickly covered the neighborhood.

   Starsky, not seeing anyone on the streets, was creeping through the alley, when he came upon a pacifier lying on the ground near the gate of a small, run-down house. He couldn't spot Hutch and knew he should go get him before proceeding further, but fear for the baby overcame his common sense and he entered the yard. He proceeded to the back door and crouched, listening, his Smith and Wesson out and ready. He did indeed hear the sounds of a baby screaming inside. He reached around with his leg and kicked the door hard, hollering, "Police!" He was immediately answered by a shotgun blast, which created a sizable hole in the door. Well, he thought, Hutch shouldn't have any trouble hearing that. Now I've got backup.

   Hutch's heart skipped a beat when he heard the blast. He rushed to the general area, but there was nothing to indicate what house it had come from. Then he heard another shot, a handgun, probably Starsky, answering fire. Why hadn't the damn fool waited for him before starting anything? Maybe those handcuffs should be kept in a real prominent place, he thought darkly.

   After Starsky fired, the shotgun was silent. Then there came a shout, "Why don't you just come on in, pig, and leave your gun right out there or this kid's dead!" Starsky could hear the baby screaming at the top of his lungs, but hesitated for a minute, not sure what to do.

   "I mean it, you don't get in here where I can see you, this kid's dead at the count of five! One…two…three."

   That galvanized Starsky into action and he dropped the gun and stepped around the doorframe with his hands in the air. The man was middle-aged, filthy dirty with greasy brown hair and he was holding a handgun to the head of the infant, using him as a shield. There was a horrible stench in the house and Starsky could hardly stand being even this close to the man. He wondered where Hutch was.

   He got his answer right away. Hutch kicked the front door open, hollered "Freeze, Police!" and entered the house like an avenging angel. The man's attention was diverted long enough for Starsky to pivot and rip the baby away from him, but the gunman's weapon went off, hitting the curly-haired detective. Hutch shot at the same time and the gunman went down. The blond checked for a pulse, but he was dead. He took the baby from Starsky and tried to comfort him, then noticed the pool of blood under his partner and laid the child down.

   "Starsk? Where are you hit?" He started checking him, starting with his shoulders and chest, but Starsky shook his head.

   "You ain't gonna believe this, but this time it's a real pain in the ass." He groaned.

   "You don't mean that you're shot…?"

   "That's right, he got me right where it hurts the most. Geez, am I gonna get ribbed about this. Can we just go home and not tell anybody?"

   Hutch did some delicate probing.

   "Right, Starsk. It looks like the bullet's still in there. It's going to require surgery. I better call an ambulance."

   "NO ambulance."

   "Are you prepared to sit and bleed all over your precious Torino all the way to the hospital?" Hutch didn't wait for an answer.

   He got on the phone right away.

   "I've got to check the house before we go any further. Can you try to get the kid calmed down?" Hutch asked.

   "Sure, give him to me."

   Hutch placed the baby in Starsky's arms and headed upstairs. A few minutes later he came back down and opened the basement door. The stench hit them both and they knew what Hutch would find there, the missing baby-sitters. He covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief and resolutely headed down the stairs. He came back looking a little pale.

   "They're all there, Starsk. I guess we can close this case, thank God."

   By then the ambulance had arrived on the scene. Hutch had called the market and asked the mother to come over and pick up her baby, which she did, thanking them over and over. Cap'n Dobey had heard only that one of his officers was down, so he came barreling in with a black and white unit.

   "Should have known it'd be you, Starsky. You must have been struck by lightening as a child the way you magnetically attract the bullets. You don't look too bad. Where're you hit this time?"

   Starsky just closed his eyes and his cheeks heated up. His partner, ever helpful, was quick to answer for him.

   "Well, Cap, let's just say he won't be sitting around doing any paperwork for awhile."

   Dobey, not understanding at first, got the message when the paramedics rolled Starsky over and started cutting his jeans off of him.

   "Oh, well, at least he'll be keeping his ass out of trouble for awhile," was his comment, one of many that were to circulate the squad room for some time to come.

   While closing the case, it was discovered that the real victims of the gunman's wrath had not been the children, but the baby-sitters, whom he tortured to death once he got them to his home. He kept a journal in which he described horrible abuse that he'd endured at the hands of the people who were supposed to be caring for him. The killing of the children was incidental, an afterthought, maybe a game. His reason for taking the last child remained somewhat of a mystery. Maybe he'd just decided he enjoyed the game. Everyone was glad to see this particular case solved so quickly.

   After surgery, they kept the detective in the hospital for a couple days. It was difficult for him to walk and impossible to sit, so Hutch had him lie down in the back seat to go home. Dobey, as usual very generous, had given Hutch a few days off to take care of his partner and Sara. Huggy came over to help get Starsky up the stairs, of course, taking his "pound of flesh" out in wisecracks, too. He had brought them something to eat from the Pits and then left to get back to work. Starsky was on pain pills and dozing on the couch when someone knocked on the door. Hutch opened it and was floored to see who it was.

   "Joey? Starsk! Look, it's Joey!" He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the apartment.

   "Huh, what…?"

   "Starsky, listen up. Joey's here, remember, followed you all over, had a big crush on you. I'll never understand why."

   The dark-haired detective woke up a little and tried to sit up. Realizing that was a big mistake, he groaned and sank back into the cushions.

   "Joey, you look so grown up."

   "Hi, Dave, I read about what happened in the papers. I've been living in Nevada for the last few years. My mom moved us there right after high school. I just moved back here a few months ago. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was that you got shot."

   "Aw, it's great to see ya. What've you been doing?"

   "Well, I was in college in Nevada. I met this guy I was really attracted to, you know why?"

   "No," Starsky said warily, wondering where this was going.

   "Because he looked enough like you to be your twin, Dave, and you know how much of a crush I always had on you. I mean, I really looked up to you. Anyway, we got together and I got pregnant and I had a baby."

   Starsky was quiet for a minute, then a pained expression appeared on his face.

   "Sara's yours, isn't she, Joey? Which means she can't be mine." He and Hutch both looked into each other's eyes. The sheen of tears was echoed in both sets of blue.

   "I'm sorry, Dave, I wasn't thinking very well. I was trying to take care of her by myself. I really didn't mean to hurt you, either one of you, I was just desperate for help."

   "Why didn't you just come to us, Joey, we'd have seen to it that you got all the help you needed."

   "I know, but I didn't just want help. I wanted you involved in her life. She doesn't have a dad and I remembered what the two of you meant to me. I thought if you had her for awhile, you'd be attached to her and she'd have two dads to be there for her."

   "Well, attached we are, that's for sure. I can't speak for Hutch, but, if it's a dad you're lookin' for, you got it. Just one thing, Joey, I want to get something down in writing. If you get married or involved with someone, I want to know that I still can see Sara."

   "That goes for me, too," Hutch was quick to say.

   "Have your lawyers draw papers up," Joey said. I want you guys in my life, too. You don't need to worry about me shutting you out. Can you keep Sara here until I can find a place for her?"

   "There's a vacant apartment two doors down, kiddo, can ya handle bein' that close?"

   "Are you kidding? That'd be great. If I can get registered into night school, could you help watch her?"

   "We and a dozen others, schweetheart. It'd be our pleasure."

   "I've got to go see about that apartment. I'm sorry, you guys, but thanks, I was desperate."

   As soon as she left, Hutch came over to where Starsky was reclining.

   Starsky looked up at him and asked, "You okay, buddy?"

   "I think so. You?"

   "Got a little hole in my heart. Nothing major." The tears in his eyes said otherwise.

   "I'm sorry, Starsk. I know you were getting used to being Daddy. You were a good one, too."

   "Hey, you're the one who was there first. I was too bound up in myself to take the first step. You showed me the error of my ways," he said with a rueful smile.

   Hutch sat down on the edge of the couch and smoothed back a lock of hair that was spilling over onto his friend's forehead. Then he touched him gently on the cheek, rubbing his thumb over Starsky's lower lip.

   "Things are changing fast, babe, but one thing's never going to change and that's right here."

   He placed his hand on his friend's heart and took Starsky's hand and placed it on his heart.

   "I've been thinking, we need a vacation, some time together, just the two of us."

   "Ya gonna take me to the woods, again, Hutch?" Starsky asked warily.

   Hutch smiled, "Well, the woods are beautiful this time of the year."

THE END