Hutchshoney

   Hutch leaped from his chair, drawing his Magnum in one fluid motion. Shutting out the cries of panic and confusion, he cautiously approached the squad room door. Opening the door a crack, and finding the hallway deserted, he slipped out into the hall. Turning to his right, Hutch crept along, hugging the wall, until he reached the corner of the "L"-shaped corridor. He paused, took a breath and peered around the corner. Hutch gasped at the scene before him. Starsky, lying prone on the floor, a figure hovering above him holding a gun. KIRA!

   ********

   Stupid Hutchinson, stupid. The blond detective sighed and leaned back in his chair, stretching his stiff limbs. He stared at the arrest report in his typewriter, looking without really seeing it. You were supposed to be making amends. Showing Starsky that you were through with the foul moods and mean-spirited games. And now this happens, just the latest in a long series of screw-ups. Hutch looked at the squad room doors, then quickly looked away. Well obsessing isn't going to get these reports finished. He turned his attention back to the typewriter.

   'Time of arrest. 17:80…' he typed.

   17:'80'? Oh hell. This report already looks like it was painted with house paint. More whiteout wasn't going to help. Hutch grabbed the top of the page and savagely yanked it from the machine. The paper tore in half. Cursing under his breath, he extracted the remaining portion one piece at a time. He scooped up the bits of paper and turned to toss them in the wastepaper basket beside the desk. Lying on top of the trash was a crumpled styrofoam coffee cup. Hutch sighed and dropped his ruined report in the bin. Grabbing a new form, he started over.

   'Arresting officer. Kenneth Hucth...'

   He rubbed his hand over his eyes. If I could only forget what happened. His gaze focused on the squad room door again. Forget? Forget Starsky? Yeah, like that'll happen.

*******

   We were getting along fine, like old times, until today. I had to be in court all morning. Starsky didn't have to testify this time, so he spent the morning at Metro finishing his reports. The "upstanding citizen" that I was trying to put away hired an excellent slime-ball lawyer. Burns down an apartment block leaving two dead and sixteen homeless, and he walks on a technicality. I should be used to it by now. It didn't help my mood, though. I met Starsky for lunch, and we headed back to Metro. That's when things got out of hand. I started my reports while Starsky sat on the other side of the desk we share, going through surveillance reports on a case we were supposed to be taking over. Boring stuff. "Subject came home at 22h, watched TV, lights went out at 24h..." and so on. Starsky was never one for sitting still, and being cooped up at Metro all morning was starting to get to him.  As he read, he started tapping his pen on the desk.  Tap, tap, tap.. <.p>

   I glared at him. "Starsky, do you mind?"

   He looked up from the file folder.

   "What?"

   "Your tapping is driving me insane."

   He thought for a second and the light of reasoning came on.

   "Oh, sorry Hutch".

   I resumed typing. It was quiet for another five minutes. Then the humming started. I glared at him again. He caught the look in my eye, grinned, gave an apologetic shrug, and picked up another folder. I had just finished my fifth report when Starsky closed his folder, stood up and started digging around in his pants pocket.

   "Now what are you doing?" I demanded.

   "Gettin' my change," he calmly replied.

   After this went on for a minute or so, I snapped, "You wouldn't have such a struggle if you'd quit buying jeans that are two sizes too small. What do you need change for anyway?"

   He met my icy stare and simply said, "Candy machine."

   "Candy machine?!?! Starsk, it's a quarter past two, you just had a big lunch, and dessert."

   "I don't care, Hutch, I'm hungry."

   I shook my head and continued typing. Suddenly I was aware of something, no someone under the desk. I shouted,

   "Starsky what the hell are you doing down there?"

   [Bump]

   "I dropped my quarter," came a muffled reply. Then I looked with horror at the top of the desk. A styrofoam cup of stale coffee had tipped and spilled across my nice, clean, freshly typed reports. I jumped out of my chair.

   "Starsky!"

   [Bump]

   "Gee Hutch, could you cool it on the yelling, my head isn't..."

   Gingerly rubbing the top of his head, he stood up as he spoke and noticed what I was screaming about.

   "Oh, sorry Hutch."

   "Sorry.?" I said in a murderous tone, "Is that all you have to say?"

   He thought for a second. "Well, you should have gotten rid of that coffee...it's from yesterday anyway."

   "So you're saying it's my fault?", my voice getting louder.

   "I'm sayin'," he snarled, "if you'd have thrown it out yesterday, we wouldn't be havin' this conversation."

   "If you weren't so careless we wouldn't be having this conversation." I retorted.

   "I don't believe this." Starsky growled. "There was an earthquake in Peru this morning, I suppose that's my fault, too?".

   "Starsky, don't be ridiculous."

   "Oh, so now I'm ridiculous. You know what your problem is, Hutch..."

   The shouting escalated until there was the sound of a door being slammed. Captain Dobey was fuming.

   "Officers Starsky and Hutchinson, they can probably hear you all the way up to the chief's office. I swear you two fight more than Edith and I did when we first got married and had to bunk with her parents. I don't know what the problem is this time but sort it out. And do it quietly!" Then this evil smirk crossed his face and he added "otherwise I'll have to send you two for marriage counseling."

   The others in the squad room who had stopped working to gawk at the 'floor show' giggled at Dobey's last remark. I could feel myself blush crimson. I glanced at Starsky. He just stood there, staring at the floor, like he was hoping the ground would open up and swallow him. Dobey's wrath then focused on the onlookers.

   He shouted, "Don't you people have something to do?"

   The crowd dispersed and everyone pretended to go back to work. Captain Dobey told me he wanted my reports on his desk before I left for the day.

   "Yes, sir, Cap," I replied.

   With that, Captain Dobey returned to his office and shut the door. I sat back down in my chair. Starsky wasn't saying anything, but I could tell he was angry. He swept the change off his side of the desk, hesitated, glared at me, and dropped the coins in his shirt pocket. I reached over grabbed the wastepaper basket and shoved the coffee cup and soggy papers into the trash. When I looked up again, Starsky was gone.

   Why the hell were you so mad at him, anyway? It was just Starsky being Starsky. And it was your coffee. Maybe I should go after him. No. Just give him some time to cool off. Hutch tore his gaze away from the doors, and returned to his typing.

*******

   A gunshot echoed through the building.

   Hutch leaped from his chair, drawing his Magnum in one fluid motion. Shutting out the cries of panic and confusion, he cautiously approached the squad room door. Opening the door a crack, and finding the hallway deserted, he slipped out into the hall. Turning to his right, Hutch crept along, hugging the wall, until he reached the corner of the "L"-shaped corridor. He paused, took a breath and peered around the corner. Hutch gasped at the scene before him. Starsky, lying prone on the floor, a figure hovering above him holding a gun. KIRA!

   "Kira," Hutch said in a choked voice, as he stepped out from his hiding place, staring in horror.

   Kira's gaze moved from the man on the floor up to meet Hutch's eyes.

   "Officer Hutchinson," she spat, "I was wondering where you were. How do you like what I've done to your partner? Looks like I've killed two birds with one stone. Or is that two birds with one bullet?" she laughed wickedly. "Consider your partnership over."

   Hutch was paralyzed with shock as Kira took two steps backwards and slipped through the fire doors. Captain Dobey and detectives Landau and Cooper came racing up behind him.

   "S-she," Hutch stammered, "she... Kira shot Starsky."

   Dobey put his hand on Hutch's shoulder. "We'll get him, son, you take care of your partner."

   With that, Dobey and the two detectives hurried off. Hutch was still standing, frozen to the spot, his mind racing. Starsky...shot in the chest...point-blank range. No one could survive...Oh why did I ever get involved with that woman?

   "Hutch," Starsky said quietly.

   Starsky's voice broke the spell.

   "Call an ambulance," Hutch shouted at the crowd that had gathered, as he rushed to his friend's side.

   Hutch put away his gun and kneeled down beside Starsky, who was desperately trying to speak. Hutch cradled Starsky's head in his arms.

   "Take it easy, buddy, help is on the way."

   In an effort to make Starsky more comfortable, Hutch pulled off his plaid shirt and tucked it under his partner's head.

   "Let me take a look, Starsk." Hutch said quietly, in a soothing voice.

   He reached for Starsky's denim shirt, but Starsky stopped him, grabbing his wrist and trying to sit up.

   "Promise me, Hutch," Starsky began with a shaky voice, "Promise me that you'll look after my car."

   Hutch shook his head in disbelief. At a time like this, he's worried about his car?! Then he looked into Starsky's pleading eyes. How could he refuse him anything?

   "Yes, Starsky if, and that's a big if anything happens, I'll look after the Tomato."

   Starsky settled back down. Hutch reached for the shirt again and again Starsky grabbed his wrist.

   "Oil change," Starsky mumbled.

   "What?" Hutch asked.

   "Oil change. Remember to change the oil once a month."

   "Okay," Hutch sighed, his heart breaking, then in an incredulous voice. "Every month? Starsky no one changes oil every..." He looked down into the pleading eyes again and relented. "Okay, an oil change every month. Now will you hold still and let me take a look at you?"

   Starsky nodded.

   Captain Dobey returned and announced that Kira was found in her car in the police garage dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The news meant nothing to Hutch, he was too focused on Starsky to care about the fate of Kira.

   "How is he?" Dobey asked Hutch.

   "I was just about to check."

   Hutch pulled aside the denim shirt and much to his surprise, found no blood on the blue T-shirt. Starsky looked from the shirt to Hutch, utterly amazed. Hutch flipped the denim shirt back over, fished his hand into the pocket and withdrew a bent quarter with a 38 slug embedded in it.

   "My candy money." Starsky exclaimed.

   Hutch felt like he was going to pass out. Starsky sat up, took the coin from Hutch's trembling hand, and rolled the quarter over the backs of his fingers like he was performing a magic trick.

   "Hutch," he said with a smile, "it looks like it's my lucky day".

   Hutch took a deep breath, exhaled and said, "No, Starsk, it's my lucky day," as he reached over and wrapped his arms around Starsky. Starsky returned the hug with equal warmth.

   The onlookers went back to their offices, leaving Starsky, Hutch and Dobey alone in the hallway.

   "What...what happened?" Hutch asked. "What did she say to you?"

   "Well, I left the squad room and went upstairs to talk to Collins. I came back down and was on my way to the candy machine when Kira came up behind me and said my name. I turned and saw she had a gun. She said we humiliated her at Huggy's the other night, and she was going to get even." He thought for a moment, "What's that saying about a woman scorned'?"

   "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'?" Hutch offered.

   "That's it. That was the look on her face, pure fury."

   Hutch shook his head in amazement. "At least she won't have a second chance for revenge."

   Starsky nodded, his eyes meeting Hutch's gaze. They completed their conversation without words.

   Hutch stood up and offered his hand to Starsky. As he stood up, Starsky winced with pain and grabbed his chest.

   "Hurts like hell".

   Hutch gave Starsky a sympathetic look.

   Seeing the crisis was over, Dobey went back into "gruff mode". "Starsky, go get checked out by a doctor and take the rest of the day off. "You," he pointed at Hutch, "go with him and make sure he stays out of trouble."

   "What about my reports, Cap?" Hutch asked.

   "Get your butt in here early tomorrow morning and finish them up."

   Hutch and Starsky hesitated a moment, then Dobey barked, "Get out of my sight and that's an order!"

   "Yes Cap," they said in unison.

   The partners walked with arms around each other's shoulders out to the Torino.

   "How about going to Huggy's after you see the doctor?" Hutch suggested.

   "Sure," Starsky replied; "does that mean you're buying?" he teased.

   "I'm buying pal. Dinner...beer... and all the candy you can eat."

   Starsky smiled.

THE END