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Part One

Carol & Valerie Wells

   "Hey, Hutch, can you unhand my brother long enough for me to congratulate him?" said Nick's voice from behind them. Nick gave Starsky a couple of slaps on the back. "I'll be damned, David," Nick said. "You really went and did it. You got married. Maybe now Ma'll quit harping at me to find a wife and give her some grandkids. It's your job. You're the oldest."

   Starsky colored slightly, but kept quiet. He and Lydia had agreed not to tell anybody just yet that there was a baby coming. They wanted today to be just about them, without complications.

   "Watch your language, little brother," Starsky said instead, flashing a grin. "What would Ma say if she heard you cussing in synagogue?"

   "Oops," Nick said, but his eyes twinkled unrepentantly.

   "I'll tell you what she'd say," Rachel said, having walked up without their noticing. "You're not too big to spank, Nicholas Marvin Starsky, even if you are taller than I am." But she smiled at him.

   "Uh-oh," Nick said, pretending to be terrified. "I'm gonna split and go kiss my new sister before she makes good on that threat." He left and infiltrated the crowd around Lydia.

   "Well, I've got one of my boys married off," Rachel said, putting her arm around Starsky. "One down and two to go."

   "Two?" Hutch said, puzzled.

   "You and Nick," she said, smiling at him. "You're my boy, too, you know. So when are we going to dance at your wedding, Ken?"

   "I think it'll be a while," he said. "We all have to recover from Starsk's before we can even think about going through this again."

~~~

   There was a great deal of dancing at the reception in the synagogue basement. A towering wedding cake, made by Edith Dobey, dominated a table at one end. A band was set up at the other end. In between, Lydia's enormous extended family mixed with Starsky's few relatives and fellow cops, light hearts making everyone willing to joke and smile with little provocation. The police photographer sneaked around taking pictures of everyone and everything, and at one point, he said to Hutch, "You know, this is what I really wanted to do when I was in school."

   "What? Photograph Starsky's wedding?" Hutch asked with an innocent face.

   McDermott laughed. "Yeah, sort of. I wanted to be the kind of photographer that goes to weddings and christenings and takes family portraits and senior pictures. Instead, I'm the guy who takes photos of dead bodies and crime scenes. Funny how things work out."

   "Yeah, it is," Hutch said thoughtfully, watching as Starsky twirled his bride around the floor. She smiled up into his face, and his eyes were shining down at her. The sight brought a little bit of a lump to Hutch's throat. When had he ever seen Starsky look like that?

   But, as he watched Lydia and Starsky dance, he felt a mixture of feelings and emotions he couldn't quite understand. He was high with anticipation and love for these two people. He watched them dancing and he smiled at them...he was so happy for Starsky...but inside, for a moment, something else touched him. A thought of long ago, when he was young. Sailing on his parents' boat...and watching his parents with his sister, the daughter they adored and who never disappointed them. And he wondered, what would happen if the boat sank? What if he and his sister and his mother were all drowning? Who would his father swim to first?

    He always felt, first his mother, then his sister...not that his father did not care, not that anyone did not care...but who would instantly want to save him first?

    Certainly not Vanessa. His mind flashed to his deceased ex-wife...would Van have swum to him first? Her memory seemed more bitter now than sweet. Van had been Van. And Van always had come first.

    He had never felt "first" in anyone's life. He had never felt that significant...that needed...that important...that special...until that day Starsky walked into his life. That dark, curly headed, blue-eyed buddy of his that came walking, no...came bouncing into his life one day. And that was when it happened. Hutch didn't know it at the time, but he knew it now...here was finally someone who, if he were drowning...would swim to him first.

   Hutch thought about all of the people in his life he had loved...and he had, he thought, loved them. But never anyone like Starsky. Not ever. Because they were partners, because they lived through moments that no one else on earth would understand but them...because no other two people on the planet knew what it was like to be them, together...because this friendship that was so intense and so unbelievably beautiful...was real.

   Hutch allowed that feeling to touch him and for a moment, wished he could never let go of it. But he had to let go. It would always be beautiful, it would always be real and it would always, always exist. But it was going to change now, it had already changed. Hutch looked out upon the dance floor and hoped no one noticed the sadness that surely hinted in his eyes for a moment. There was Starsk, over the moon and looking at Lydia in a way that....

    And Hutch knew...he knew. Lydia was the one Starsk would swim to first now...it was only right. It was the way it had to be. And that was the way Hutch would expect and want it to be from now on.

   Who'll swim to me first now? Hutch thought, embarrassed at the silly thought that held him silently for a moment. Then he smiled. He had to be happy, he had to be proud, he had to be grateful. He had years and years of being first in Starsky's life. Starsky had swum out to rescue him over and over and over, how many times?

    How many people ever have someone love them that much? And no matter what, the memory of that love would forever remain a part of Hutch's soul. Just as Starsky would.

   Then Hutch cut in and took his turn dancing with Lydia. She was flushed with excitement, and her dark eyes twinkled up at Hutch as she took a firm grip of his shoulder and hand.

   "Hutch, this is the happiest day of my life so far," she told him.

   "Mine, too, honey," he said gently. "You've made my partner a happy man, and I thank you for that."

   "Oh, Hutch." Her eyes softened. "I'm the lucky one. David's a wonderful man. I can't believe he loves me."

   "I can." Hutch danced in silence for a moment, then added, "Remember your promise to me?"

   "Yes." She looked up into his eyes. "And you remember yours to me?"

   "Yes."

   Once everyone had run out of steam and sat down to rest a while, Hutch stood up, lifted his glass and said, "I think it's time the best man gave the traditional toast to the bride and groom."

   Silence instantly prevailed, and Hutch paused. He'd spent over an hour, late last night, composing what he was going to say, and he didn't want to blow it. He looked at Starsky and Lydia, sitting there holding hands and looking so happy, and he smiled at them.

   "Lydia, I want to tell you something about my partner you might not realize. He's the most important person in the world to me. His happiness is my happiness. When he hurts, I hurt. I love him, Lydia. We've been through a lot together. And there were times I never thought either of us would live to see a day this happy. Thank you. You've given him this day.

   "And, buddy, I want you to know how grateful I am to you for your friendship and your love. You've got the biggest heart of anyone I know. You deserve this and I'm thrilled for you, babe. Here's to at least 100 years of wedded bliss! Here's to David and Lydia!"

   There were tears standing in Hutch's eyes by this time--and in Lydia's and Starsky's--but everyone smiled and drank to the newlyweds. Hutch leaned down and kissed Lydia's cheek, then Starsky's, and gratefully sat down to compose himself.

   But Starsky leaned over and whispered, "I love you, too, buddy."

   Starsky and Lydia had changed and collected their luggage and now they moved around the room quickly, saying goodbye and getting another round of kisses and hugs, before stopping at Hutch. He was going to give them a ride to the Long Beach airport, where they would catch a commuter flight to San Diego.

   It was raining lightly as they came out of the synagogue, and Hutch frowned up at the sky. "Where the hell did this come from? They forecasted clear skies and 80 degrees tonight."

   "They were wrong," Starsky said with a grin. "So what's new about that? Come on, buddy, we don't have much time."

   Hutch lifted their bags into the trunk, slammed the lid, and held the door open for Lydia to sit between him and Starsky in the front seat. They were taking the Torino to the airport, partly because Starsky had jokingly refused to let his bride ride in "that piece of shit of yours" and partly because Hutch was going to keep an eye on the Torino while Starsky was gone. It began to rain harder, until Hutch had to turn the wipers on high so he could see to drive.

   "I don't like this, Starsk," he said as he pulled into the airport parking lot. "This isn't good flying weather at all."

   Starsky didn't reply until they were inside and had checked the departure schedule. Their plane was still taking off on time. "There, ya see?" Starsky said to Hutch. "If it was too bad to fly, they'd have said so, wouldn't they?"

   "I guess," Hutch said, a little unwillingly. His cop instincts were all on edge, but he tried to shake that off. It was only rain, after all. He glanced at the other passengers, wondering if he'd seen someone threatening and hadn't realized it. But they were mostly families, some business traveler types. No one who could have set off his inner alarm.

   You're just feeling left out, Hutchinson. That's all it is.

   They called for passengers to board the plane, and Hutch gave Lydia a tight hug and another kiss on the forehead. "Have a wonderful time," he said to her.

   "We will," she said, touching his cheek gently. "Thank you, Hutch." She drew a little away as if she sensed Hutch needed a moment alone with Starsky.

   Starsky and Hutch simply gazed at each other for a moment, before Hutch pulled his buddy into a hug and swallowed to steady his voice. "Goodbye, Starsk."

   Starsky pulled back a little and looked into his eyes. "We don't say 'goodbye,' babe. I'll see you Tuesday. Okay?"

   Hutch pulled him against him again, having seen a little shadow of worry in those expressive eyes. "Okay. Go have a terrific time and enjoy your lady."

   Hutch watched as they went through the doors and boarded the plane. He waited as the plane lifted off and disappeared into the darkness.

   But he wondered why he felt so bereft as that plane took his best friend away to his honeymoon.

   Because that's the best part of you flying off into the darkness...and he's leaving you behind.

   When he got back to the synagogue, the party was still in full swing and showed no sign of abating. It wasn't long before one of Lydia's cousins had Hutch on the floor dancing, and Hutch finally managed to relax and have a couple of beers to loosen up. Huggy egged him on as the cousin--Hutch thought her name was Naomi, but he wasn't sure--tried to teach him the Charleston. It was getting into the wee small hours and Hutch was getting a little tipsy, so he didn't really notice when the telephone on the wall rang. Someone answered it and listened, then gestured to Captain Dobey. He walked over to join her, and that's what finally got Hutch's attention. He stopped dancing and watched his captain.

   Dobey listened also, then raised his eyes to Hutch's. And the look in them made Hutch's blood run cold.

   He ran across the room, dodging dancers. "What is it?"

   "That was Cal," Dobey said. "We left the number here in case he or Rosie needed us. Hutch, there's been an accident."

   Huggy sensed something was wrong and stopped the band. The rest of the guests gathered around to listen. Where a moment before there had been laughter and music, now there was dead silence as the group waited.

   Heart pounding and adrenaline rushing, Hutch fastened his eyes on his captain's face and said, "What is it, Captain?"

   "It was the plane, Hutch. The plane...the plane crashed."

   "Oh, my God," Rachel Starsky said with a gasp.

   Hutch slid an arm around her automatically. "How bad is it?" he asked unsteadily.

   "There are some survivors, but most of the passengers," Dobey paused and swallowed, "didn't make it."

   Rachel's shoulders were shaking with sobs, and Hutch pulled her a little closer before asking, "Starsky?"

   "They haven't identified any of them yet," Dobey said.

   Without another word, Hutch turned and headed for the door, snagging his jacket from the chair where he'd left it.

   "Hutch, wait!" Huggy ran to catch up. "You don't even know where it crashed, Hutch!"

   "Off I-5, between Mission Viejo and San Juan Capistrano," Dobey supplied. "In a field east of the interstate."

   Hutch was almost out the door, desperate, his heart in his throat, and Huggy caught up and grabbed his arm. "We'll take my car, and I'm driving," Huggy said. "You're in no condition."

   Hutch nodded wordlessly, and the two of them ran through the pouring rain to Huggy's Caddy.

   In the time it took to reach the crash site, the news had time to slowly sink in, and Hutch was in a panic before they ever got there. And when he saw the fire engines, the flashing lights of rescue vehicles, and the triage set up under hastily-erected canopies, he couldn't help it; a sob of grief and fear escaped him.

   "Easy, Hutch," Huggy said, though his voice shook, too. "We'll find him. He's okay. He's gotta be."

   They ran into the confusion, dodging emergency workers and stretchers, hearing the moans of the injured, looking for someone who seemed to be in charge. Hutch spotted a man with a clipboard and made a beeline for him, followed by Huggy.

   "David Starsky?" Hutch asked, grabbing the man's arm.

   "No, I'm...."

   "Not you! I'm looking for David Starsky! He was on that plane!" Hutch shouted.

   "We haven't identified everyone yet," the man said, his tone sympathetic. He consulted his clipboard. "He's not here. He may still be--" he gestured toward the wreckage, scattered over the field. One large piece of fuselage, broken wings, bits and pieces of airplane all over the field, lit up by the lights of the fire trucks and ambulances parked everywhere.

   Hutch ran, barely taking time to glance at bodies on the ground, all of them dead or dying. He didn't see Starsky among them and kept running. Huggy stuck with him, both of them getting soaked and muddy in the marshy field. When they reached the piece of fuselage, an EMT grabbed Hutch's arm and halted his mad dash.

   "Wait, don't go any further."

   "My partner's here somewhere!" Hutch said desperately. "I gotta find him!"

   The man glanced at Huggy, then back at Hutch. "Sir, one of the men was...." He took a long breath and went on gently, "He was decapitated. You don't want to see that."

   Hutch produced his badge and shoved it in the man's face. "I'm a cop, goddammit! I gotta find my partner!" Then what the man had said sank in and Hutch's face went white. "De--decapitated?" His knees gave way, and if Huggy hadn't grabbed his arm and held him up, he'd have gone down. But Huggy held on tight, sliding an arm around his waist. "No, no, no," Hutch said, his voice choked. "My God...."

   "We haven't identified him," the EMT said.

   "It's not Starsky," Huggy said firmly.

   "You don't know that!" Hutch snapped, his eyes full of tears, with the rain soaking his hair and running down his face.

   "If one of you could look at him," the EMT said, a bit unwillingly, "we could be sure."

   Hutch raised his eyes to the man, stricken, then looked at Huggy. "I can't...."

   Huggy wet his lips and patted Hutch's back. "I'll do it." He made sure Hutch was steady enough to stand alone, then followed the EMT around the side of the plane. Hutch closed his eyes and waited. In a moment, Huggy was back. "It's not him," he called as soon as he could see Hutch.

   "Thank God," Hutch said fervently, and his knees trembled again, but Huggy put his arm back around his waist.

   "Come on, Hutch. We gotta keep looking."

   Hutch nodded and drew a deep breath. He had to get it together. He had to find Starsky. He couldn't break down. Not now. Not yet. Not until...they knew something.

   They dodged emergency workers, looking at every face, seeing more death and dying and horrendous injuries in that quarter hour than either of them had seen in their whole lives. More than once, Hutch had to swallow back bile as he looked into the face of some poor suffering soul with a severed leg...or a half-torn-off ear...and one woman, not much more than a girl, with a gaping wound in her abdomen.

   They heard the voices of the rescuers: "Green!" "Red!" "Yellow!"

   "What do they mean?" Huggy asked.

   Hutch blinked back tears at the sight of a little boy about two, curled up as if in sleep and still clutching a muddy teddy bear, dead. "They're doing triage, Hug. Green means somebody who can wait. Red means somebody who needs attention right now. Yellow's in between. And--" he broke off as a voice called bleakly, "Black!" and finished, "Black means they're dead."

   Huggy swallowed hard. "We'll find him, Hutch. And he'll be okay. He's gotta be."

   In the dark and confusion it was difficult to see, but Hutch knew he'd recognize Starsky the moment he found him--no matter what condition he was in.

   "Yellow!" yelled a voice almost right beside them, making Hutch jump, and he whirled to look at the victim.

   "Oh, my God," he said softly, stunned. It was Lydia. Her face was covered with blood and mud and rain soaked her clothes, but she was alive. He fell to his knees beside her, and the EMT who was planting a yellow flag next to her glanced at him.

   "Do you know her? Can you identify her?"

   "Yes," Hutch said, his voice shaking. "Her name's Lydia Geis...Starsky. Lydia Starsky."

   The EMT consulted the passenger list on his clipboard and made a checkmark next to her name. Hutch could see Starsky's name above hers and there was no checkmark beside it.

   "Lydia? Honey, can you hear me?" Hutch took her hand and touched her cheek, but there was no response. She moaned a little and her eyes fluttered, but she couldn't speak. "Lydia, it's Hutch, honey. We're getting help for you. You're gonna be okay," Hutch said desperately, praying it was true.

   "Don't move her," the EMT cautioned, getting up to go on.

   "I won't," Hutch said, still holding her hand. "Lydia, listen to me. You're gonna be okay."

   Her eyes fluttered again, and she tried to focus on him. "Hu...."

   "Yes, sweetheart, it's Hutch. And Huggy. Help is coming, okay? You're gonna be okay," Hutch said, tears running down his cheeks and mixing with the falling rain. But Lydia had lost consciousness again and didn't respond.

   "Move aside, please," said a voice behind him as two rescue workers dropped a backboard on the ground beside Lydia and loaded her onto it. They were in too much of a hurry to be gentle as they strapped her down and lifted the board to carry her to a waiting ambulance.

   "Careful! She's pregnant!" Hutch said, letting go of her hand unwillingly.

   "Okay, man, take it easy. Make a note of that," one of them said. "This one's pregnant."

   The EMT who had planted the flag yanked it out of the ground again and made another note on his clipboard. As the other two left with Lydia, he turned to go on to the next victim, leaving Hutch and Huggy to keep looking.

   "Starsky can't be far away, they were sitting together," Hutch said. He plowed on through the mud, Huggy right next to him. And in a few minutes, they found him. He, too, had a yellow flag next to him.

   "Starsky!" Hutch threw himself down into the mud next to Starsky and gently wiped mud and blood off his buddy's face. "Can you hear me, babe? Are you okay?"

   Starsky moaned, half in and half out, but his eyes opened, glazed and unfocused. "Hutch?"

   "You're hurt, buddy, but it's gonna be okay," Hutch said, trying to smile and look confident, but the cloudiness of Starsky's eyes, the way they wouldn't focus and wouldn't hold still, scared him all the way to the core of his being.

   Starsky blinked and winced. He swallowed and tried to speak, but he couldn't. His hand moved as he tried to reach for Hutch, and Hutch captured it and held it in both of his, against his chest.

   "I'm right here, babe. I won't leave you. It's okay, buddy, it's okay." Tears were falling freely down Hutch's cheeks now, and Huggy knelt beside him, arm around his shoulders, one hand squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

   "Hutch..." Starsky moaned again and tried to wet his lips. "Hutch, it...hurts. I'm cold...."

   Hutch let go of Starsky's hand and stripped off his tuxedo jacket, laying it over his partner. "There you are, buddy. Is that better? They're gonna come get you in just a second, babe, hang on, okay?"

   Starsky coughed and a look of such pain crossed his face that Hutch felt it, too. "It hurts...."

   "I know, babe, I know," Hutch said, his voice so choked with tears he could hardly get the words out.

   Finally, the rescue workers came for Starsky, loading him onto a backboard and securing his head and neck.

   "His name's David Starsky," Hutch told them, and they noted it down. He watched as they took his partner away and loaded him into a waiting ambulance. They were taking him to Mission Viejo. Hutch grabbed Huggy's arm and hauled him back to the car.

   When they arrived at the emergency room, it was chaos. The plane crash had overwhelmed the night crew and nobody had any time to answer questions. About half the survivors had been brought here. The rest had been dispersed to other hospitals in the area. But Hutch was relentless, and finally managed to corner the harried nurse at the information desk, demanding information on Starsky and Lydia.

   She sorted through forms scattered on her desk and finally found Lydia. When she raised her eyes, they were very sober. "Are you a member of the family?"

   "Her brother-in-law," Hutch said without batting an eye. "David Starsky--her husband--is my brother."

   "Your name, sir?"

   "Ken Hutchinson."

   She looked at him, head to one side, and Hutch realized he'd goofed. But he was a desperate man, and this wasn't going to stop him.

   "David Starsky is my brother, dammit!" he said with the glare that Huggy knew so well. Nobody he'd ever met had enough nerve to cross Hutch when he got that look on his face. This nurse was no exception.

   She nodded. "Mrs. Starsky is in ICU, Mr. Hutchinson."

   Hutch stared at her blankly, and Huggy choked back a gasp, putting an arm around Hutch. "She's...she's dying?" Hutch finally said, his voice shaking.

   "You'll have to talk to the doctor, sir. I'm sorry. I don't know any more than that."

   "Oh, God." Hutch ran a hand over his face and looked at Huggy.

   "I don't see Mr. Starsky here yet, sir," the nurse said. "We apparently don't have his paperwork yet. Why don't you go see your sister-in-law and try again in a little while? We should have more information then."

   Hutch nodded dumbly and backed away. Huggy gently steered him to the elevator and took him up to ICU. The blank, terrified look on Hutch's face scared Huggy. He looked so lost, so helpless....

   It was Huggy who asked for Lydia when they got to ICU, and the duty nurse directed them to her room. Huggy again steered Hutch down the hall to the glass-fronted room, where Lydia lay, as pale as the sheets she lay on, with tubes and wires all over her. Hutch froze in the doorway and stared at her, tears dropping onto his cheeks.

   But he took a deep breath and went forward, carefully picking up Lydia's limp hand and sitting down next to her bed. "Lydia? Can you hear me, honey? It's Hutch."

   Her eyes opened and slowly turned toward him. She tried to smile. "Hu...utch," she said, so softly and weakly he almost didn't hear her.

   "I'm right here, honey. So is Huggy."

   Her eyes moved toward Huggy, standing next to Hutch, and he gently touched her cheek. "Hi, Lydia."

   "Hu...Hutch...David...."

   "He's fine, honey," Hutch lied smoothly. "He's on another floor, though. But he's gonna be okay."

   Huggy glanced at him, but didn't change his expression. He knew why Hutch was lying to her.

   She closed her eyes and didn't speak again, while Hutch stroked her hand. Finally, he turned to Huggy. "Let's go find Starsky."

   Some of the chaos in the emergency room had dissipated by the time they returned. The same nurse was still at the information desk, and this time when Hutch asked for David Starsky, she had the paperwork.

   "He's being treated," she said, reading from the forms. "If you'll wait in the family room, someone will come and tell you when you can see him."

   It was an eternity. Huggy found coffee for them, and Dobey brought Starsky's mother and Nick after Huggy had called to tell him where they were. But Hutch sat as though in a trance, numb, waiting.

   The doctor came in two hours later, still in his scrubs, and looked around the room, unsure who was family and who wasn't. Hutch stood and helped Rachel to her feet, putting his arm around her shoulders. "H--how is he?" Hutch asked.

   "His back is injured," the doctor began without preliminaries. "Nothing was broken, but he landed pretty hard and there was some injury to the spinal cord."

   Rachel drew a sharp breath.

   "I don't think it's permanent," the doctor assured her. "He'll have to have therapy to regain full use of his legs, and it'll be a while, but I'm almost certain he'll be back to normal eventually." He paused a moment. "He also suffered some lacerations, most of them basically superficial. He has a concussion and some internal bleeding, but we got that under control. Considering what I've seen tonight...," he paused again and ran a weary hand over his eyes, "David's very lucky."

   Rachel broke away from Hutch and took the doctor's hands. "Thank you, doctor. How's my daughter-in-law? Lydia?"

   He rubbed at his eyes again. "I'm sorry, I don't know. But I can ask someone to find out for you. I'll send someone in as soon as I find out, or come myself."

   "Can we see him?" Hutch asked quietly.

   "One at a time, and only for a few minutes," the doctor said. "He's still unconscious, and we're going to keep him that way for a day or two because when he wakes up, he's going to be in a lot of pain. We want him to have a chance to heal, and he can't do that as well if he's fighting against pain." He nodded at them all impartially and left the room.

   "Go ahead, Rachel," Hutch said. But she shook her head.

   "No, Ken. You go first."

   He kissed her cheek and left to see Starsky.

   He hadn't noticed the cuts and bruises on Starsky's face in the field because of the darkness and the mud. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and took Starsky's hand. "It's me, buddy," he whispered. "We just talked to the doc and he says you're gonna be okay. Oh, God, Starsk...," he dropped his forehead onto their clasped hands, "I'm so sorry."

   By the time he composed himself and returned to the waiting room, the doctor had sent a nurse in who was explaining Lydia's condition to Rachel, Nick and Lydia's parents, who had also arrived.

   "The baby's all right," the nurse was saying as Hutch entered. "At least we're still getting a heartbeat...."

   "Baby?" Rachel said at the same moment Lydia's mother said it.

   Hutch intervened, putting an arm around Rachel. "Lydia's pregnant," he said gently. "They wanted to keep it a secret until after the honeymoon."

   "How far along is she?" Rachel demanded, her voice shaking.

   "About three and a half months, maybe a little more," Hutch said.

   "Oh, God. Oh, my God." Mrs. Geisler covered her mouth with her hands.

   "The baby seems to be all right," the nurse said soothingly. "Although Lydia did suffer a great deal of trauma, and we won't know anything for sure for a few days. I think we can at least be hopeful."

   The nurse patted both mothers on the arm and left. Rachel immediately turned to Hutch. "A baby? Why didn't Davy tell me? I'm his mother!"

   "They wanted to wait until after the wedding," Hutch said gently. "They didn't want their wedding to seem...hurried. They wanted to concentrate on being a couple before announcing they were going to be a family. They were going to tell you--and you," he added to Mrs. Geisler, "as soon as they got back from," his voice shook a little, "their honeymoon."

   Rachel nodded, and even managed a wan smile. "And Davy can't keep anything from you, can he, Ken?"

   Hutch smiled a little, too. "Nope."

   Huggy left with Captain Dobey, pressing his car keys into Hutch's hand. "I know you won't leave until you're sure Starsk can be left alone," Huggy said with an understanding grin, "so you keep my car. Just don't drive it like he does." Hutch accepted the keys, gave Huggy a brief hug, and watched him go. Next to Starsky, he valued Huggy's friendship most of all. Always there. Always willing to help.

   Lydia's parents went up to ICU to see her, leaving Hutch alone with Rachel and Nick. They made a brief visit to Starsky's room, but Rachel came back so pale and shaken that Hutch insisted on taking her back to her hotel in Los Angeles. She had been mercifully spared seeing Starsky hurt before this--and God knew, although Hutch had seen him in hospital beds before, shot, poisoned and even dying, it didn't get any easier. He could only imagine how hard it was to see your child like that, no matter if he was a grown man.

   She was quiet most of the way back, and the drive was a long and bleak one. Hutch kept his peace, too. He pulled Huggy's Caddy up to the hotel door and put it in Park. Without a word, Nick got out and opened the door for his mother.

   Before getting out herself, Rachel put a hand on Hutch's arm. "You get some dry clothes on before you go back to the hospital, okay?"

   He didn't ask how she knew he was going straight back to Mission Viejo. He simply nodded. "Okay, Mom."

   She smiled, kissed his cheek, and went into the hotel. Hutch glanced down at his damp, soiled tuxedo and gave a rueful grimace. The cleaning bill--if it could even be cleaned--was going to be enormous. He turned the Caddy toward Venice Place.

   Two hours later, he was back in that same waiting room, alone this time, showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater. Hospitals were always so cold. Or was it just that he felt cold in them, because so far it had never been good news he was waiting for?

   Once every hour, he made a trip first to Lydia's room, then to Starsky's. Neither of them had regained consciousness by the time the sun came up. But Lydia's pallor was so much worse than Starsky's, her breathing so much more labored. Hutch was frightened for both of them, but he knew his partner. He was tough. He'd survived Gunther. Bellamy. Marcos. He had to survive this, too....

   But Lydia was more delicate. He stood by her bedside as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, holding her hand, and looking down at her white face. She seemed to have lost weight, even though he knew that was impossible. But her thin hand lying so limply in his seemed almost porcelain in its fragility. The blankets tucked around her body showed the slight swelling at her abdomen, the first sign he'd noticed of her pregnancy.

   You gotta make it, Lydia. For Starsky. For the baby.

   He stayed with her until the nurse shooed him out, then he went to Starsky's room. Starsky was still out, too, but his color had improved, and he at least appeared to be sleeping naturally. Hutch pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat down. For a while, he just watched Starsky sleep, gently stroking his arm where it lay near him.