Hutchshoney

(Timeline – several weeks after "Shootout")

   "Hey, Hutch," Starsky said as he rifled through the papers and folders on his partner’s desk. "Where’s the Hayes file?"

   The two detectives had their desks sitting in an "L" shape, allowing Starsky to remain in his chair, and still have access to the files on both desks. Neatly stacked folders toppled and slid as Starsky dug through them.

   Hutch walked over from the coffee maker carrying two mugs. "The Hayes file? It’s that big manila folder in the middle of your desk with ‘Hayes’ written on it in big black letters."

   "Oh," Starsky said with a grin.

   "Here," Hutch said, placing a coffee mug in his partner’s hand.

   "Thanks."

   Hutch set his coffee on his desk, walked around to his chair, sat down and began straightening out the mess Starsky had made.

   Starsky raised the cup to his lips, took a swallow of coffee and flinched. "Ow!"

   Hutch was instantly on his feet and around the desk. "What is it? Is it your shoulder?" he asked, concerned.

   Starsky frowned, annoyed at Hutch’s over-reaction. "My shoulder is just fine. My jaw is just a little sore."

   "Your jaw?" Hutch asked, skeptically. "Are you sure you don’t need a dentist?"

   "It’s not my teeth. Ma sent me some homemade peanut brittle. It was as hard as concrete. I musta had too much of it," he said, ruefully.

   "How much did you have?"

   "The whole box."

   Hutch rolled his eyes.

   The phone on the desk rang. Hutch answered it. "Hutchinson. What? Yeah, put her through. "Hi Orange, what have you got for me?"

   Starsky listened intently to the one-sided conversation.

   "Really?" Hutch said, grabbing a pen and scribbling on paper. "I’d say that’s worth about five Jacksons. Meet you at the usual place at 5 o’clock with the money? Okay, thanks, Orange."

   "Five Jackson’s?" Starsky asked, slyly, "I didn’t know Orange was inta music. Let’s see that would be Marlon, Randy, Tito..."

   "No," Hutch replied, "Andrew Jackson."

   "What are you givin’ Orange a hundred bucks for, or should I ask?" Starsky teased, waggling his eyebrows.

   "Starsk, did anyone ever tell you you’re a gutter rat?"

   "I’ve never had any complaints from the ladies."

   "Uh huh. Well, the girls you go out with aren’t exactly ‘ladies’. "

   Captain Dobey appeared in his office doorway. "Are you two going to get some work done, or are you going to sit around gossiping all day?"

   Hutch replied, "It just so happens that we have a lead on the whereabouts of one Manny Silva. He’s going to be visiting his nephew at a house on the corner of Wilmington and East Sixty-first Street. "

   "Silva, the mobster?" Captain Dobey asked. "I’m impressed. We’ve been trying to catch up with him for years. Go get a warrant."

   Starsky and Hutch headed for the door.

   Captain Dobey called after them, "Be careful. The last guys who tried to bring Manny in wound up dead."

   ******

   Starsky parked his Torino on Wilmington, at the side of the two-storey house. The two men got of out of the car.

   "I’ll take the back," Starsky said as he hurried through the gate at the front of the house.

   Hutch walked up to the front door and stood away from the door with his back up against the wall. Tapping on the door with his gun he yelled, "Police! Put your hands up and come out."

   There was a commotion inside. Hutch stepped back and kicked the door open. He grabbed one beefy bodyguard just as Starsky was hauling in a second bodyguard that he had corralled in the kitchen. After disarming both men, Starsky handcuffed one wrist of the bodyguard, passed the chain through the stair railing and clamped the other cuff down on the second man’s wrist.

   Hutch ran upstairs to look for Manny. A bedroom window was open, and looking down the steep incline of the roof, Hutch could see Manny dangling by his hands from the limb of a nearby tree. Starsky came skidding to a stop behind Hutch. Both stared at the incongruity of a balding, middle-aged man in a three-piece suit, swinging from a tree. Manny hesitated, then dropped to the ground. Before Hutch could say anything, Starsky said, "You go, I’ll get the car," and ran from the room.

   Cursing his bad luck, Hutch swung his leg out the window. Carefully, he walked down the slope to the edge of the roof. He hoped the tree limb would be able to withstand two acrobatic exits.

   Starsky ran back to the car. A black and white unit had parked behind him. He stopped and instructed the officers where to pick up the bodyguards. Hurrying back to his car, he got in and pulled the car up to East - 61^st Street. One side of the street was residences; the other was small businesses. Starsky spotted Hutch halfway down the block, chasing Manny across the street, and decided to pull into the alley behind the businesses in case the mobster tried to slip between the buildings.

   Hutch saw Manny enter the side door of a windowless, rectangular one-storey building that was made of cement blocks. Cautiously, he drew his gun and followed. The door slammed shut. He blinked and tried to adjust to the darkness.

   It’s as black as a pit in here.

   He fumbled in the dark, looking for a light switch. His hand found a button, and he pressed the switch. A bell rang, lights flashed, and heavy machinery clattered to life. Startled, Hutch stepped backwards. It wasn’t until water sprayed into his face that he realized he was in an automatic car wash. There was a surprised yelp from further in the car wash. Hutch frantically pushed buttons on the console, but he was unable to find the "off" switch. He gave up and ran into the wall of water. Dodging rolling brushes, and jets of water, he could see Manny further ahead in the "tunnel".

   Manny ran through the blow dryers and up to the closed garage door. He grabbed the door handle and pulled up the door. As he blinked, trying to adjust to the bright sunlight, he saw Starsky leaning casually against the fender of the Torino, gun leveled. Manny surrendered, putting his hands in the air.

   "Manny," Starsky laughed, "They do have showers down at lock-up, ya didn’t have to go to all this trouble." Starsky patted down the mobster, cuffed one of his wrists and attached the other end of the cuffs to the steering wheel of the Torino.

   Hutch appeared in the doorway of the car wash, dripping wet.

   "Didja get the hot wax, too?" Starsky teased.

   Hutch glared at him. "Yeah, I hope my eyebrows don’t fall out," he said, wiping the water from his eyes.

   "You’re not gettin’ in my car like that," Starsky admonished.

   "You’ve got a blanket in the trunk. I can sit on that. What do we do about him, though? Hutch asked, pointing at Manny, "Make him run along behind?"

   "That’s easy," Starsky said as he walked around to the passenger side, reached through the open window and picked up the mike. "Zebra three to control."

   "Go ahead, Zebra three."

   "Request a black and white to pick up a suspect outside Superior car wash, 6221 East 61^st Street."

   "Roger, Zebra three."

   Then as an afterthought, Starsky added, "Oh, uh, don’t send one of the new cars."

   Hutch retrieved the blanket from the trunk, and joined Starsky on the passenger side of the car. He noticed Starsky rubbing his jaw. Hutch reached in the car, dropped the blanket on the seat, and took a package of gum off of the dashboard.

   "Here, Starsk," he said, offering his partner a stick of gum.

   Starsky’s hand immediately reached for the gum, then he drew his hand back. "I don’t want any."

   "Starsky, when have you ever refused gum? Or anything else that was edible? Why don’t you just admit you’re having trouble with your teeth?"

   Starsky glared at Hutch. "You want me to chew gum?" he growled, "I’ll chew some stinkin’ gum."

   He grabbed the gum, tore the wrapper off and popped the gum in his mouth.

   "Ow," he howled with pain, putting his hand up to his face.

   " ‘I don’t need a dentist’, " Hutch mimicked sarcastically. "What’s your dentist’s name?"

   "Doesn’t matter, ‘cause I’m not goin’," Starsky huffed. "I hate dentists. And his dental assistant is an ogre. She belongs in a medieval torture chamber."

   "Open your mouth," Hutch ordered.

   Starsky reluctantly complied.

   "You can hardly open your mouth," Hutch scolded. "You probably have an abscess. If you go to the dentist today, he’ll probably only look at it. You can’t have it pulled until the infection clears up. Tell me your dentist’s name."

   Manny spoke up, "My brother-in-law, Ira, is a dentist. He’s only a couple of blocks from here..."

   Both detectives looked over the roof of the car at Manny and growled in unison, "Shut up!" They returned to their argument.

   Hutch tried to reason with his partner. "Starsk, I know you’re afraid, but you need some help before it gets worse. They’ve got a lot of modern methods -- new tools and new medications that make going to the dentist almost painless."

   "Almost painless? You’re gonna have to promise more than that."

   "Starsky, going to the dentist never killed anyone."

   "Oh yeah, Mr. ‘know-it-all’. It just so happens that my Uncle Ephram died in the dentist’s chair."

   Hutch looked shocked. Sympathetically, he replied, "I...I’m so sorry to hear that."

   Starsky had a ‘so there’ expression on his face.

   Hutch thought a moment, wrinkling his brow, "How old was he?"

   "What?"

   "How old was your Uncle Ephram?"

   "Eighty-four," Starsky mumbled.

   With an exasperated sigh, Hutch demanded "For the last time, who’s your dentist?"

   Starsky remained silent.

   Hutch snapped, "I’m a detective, Starsk. How long do you think it will take for me to find out?"

   Starsky crossed his arms and stared at the ground.

   Hutch reached into the car for the mike.

   "What are you doin’?" Starsky asked.

   "I’m calling Minnie. I’m going to drag her away from whatever important police work she’s doing, so she can pull your insurance file with your dentist’s name on it."

   Starsky mumbled.

   "What?" Hutch asked.

   "I said, Doctor Givens." Starsky said, sullenly.

   Hutch smiled and replaced the mike. Reaching into his soggy pants pocket, he pulled out a dime and headed to a nearby phone booth. While he was on the telephone, a black and white unit came and picked up their prisoner.

   Hutch returned to the car. "Let’s go back to the station so I can change, and then we can write up our reports on Manny. Oh, and your dentist will see you at 4:00."

   Starsky stomped over to the driver’s side, got in and slammed the door.

   *******

   Hutch pulled his report from the typewriter and signed it. Starsky was slouched at his desk, moping.

   Captain Dobey came out of his office. "Nice work."

   "Thanks Captain," Hutch replied. His partner stared straight ahead.

   Captain Dobey looked from Hutch to Starsky, "What’s wrong with you, Starsky? Cat got your tongue?"

   Hutch answered, "Starsky has a dental problem. He has an appointment in half an hour. Would it be okay if we took off now?"

   "Sure, go ahead."

   Starsky stood up, still not speaking and yanked his jacket off the back of his chair. He stalked out of the squad room, flinging the door shut in Hutch’s face.

   Hutch looked at Captain Dobey and shrugged.

   "Good luck, Hutchinson."

   "Thanks Captain," Hutch said as he left the room.

   "You’re going to need it," the Captain added.

   *******

   Doctor Givens’ office was in a modern high-rise. The detectives stood on the sidewalk out front. Starsky was glancing around furtively.

   "Uh-uh-uh," Hutch said, grabbing Starsky’s arm and propelling him towards the building. "Remember who won the gold at ‘track and field’ day at the Academy. Racing against twenty-five other recruits, including you."

   They walked through the lobby and into a waiting elevator.

   "Which floor?" Hutch asked, his hand poised over the control buttons.

   His question was met with silence.

   "Don’t make go back to the foyer to read the directory," Hutch threatened.

   "Ten," Starsky replied, angrily.

   Hutch pressed the 10^th floor button.

   The men entered the dentist’s office. Hutch was amazed at the opulent decor; recessed lighting, glass bricks, chrome and leather furniture. He whispered "Maybe I should have listened to dear old dad and become a dentist. Dr. Givens looks like he’s doing well."

   "That’s ‘cause he charges a fortune for unnecessary work."

   "Wow, he’s speaking to me again," Hutch deadpanned.

   Starsky glared at Hutch.

   The glare turned into a huge grin as a pretty young blonde in a nurse’s uniform came out of the staff room, which was adjacent to the waiting room.

   Starsky hurried over to the young woman and introduced himself. "Hi, I’m Dave Starsky. Call me Dave."

   The blonde smiled back at him and replied, "Nice to meet you, Dave. I’m Crystal."

   "Crystal? What a lovely name for a lovely lady."

   Hutch walked over, smiled at the girl, and elbowed Starsky in the ribs, "She doesn’t look like an ogre." Then to Crystal, Hutch said, "Starsky told me that the dental assistant here was an ogre."

   Starsky shot Hutch a dirty look.

   "Oh," Crystal said, "You must mean Helen. She retired five years ago."

   "You haven’t been to the dentist in five years?" Hutch asked his partner. The question was ignored.

   Crystal said, "The doctor is ready for you, Dave, I can take you back right now."

   "I’m really nervous around dentists," Starsky said to Crystal, taking her hand, "Maybe you could help..."

   Seeing that his partner was in good hands, Hutch walked back to the waiting room and sat down.

   *******

   Twenty minutes later, the dentist appeared with Starsky and introduced himself to Hutch. The men shook hands.

   "So what is it?" Hutch asked.

   "Detective Starsky has two impacted wisdom teeth, one on each side of the lower jaw. This is an unusual case – most people have their impacted wisdom teeth removed before age twenty-five. There isn’t enough room for the teeth, so they have grown in sideways, and are pushing on the roots of his other teeth. The one on the right has abscessed. He’s going to need a couple of days on antibiotics before I can extract it. I’m amazed that they haven’t bothered him before this."

   "Well," Hutch replied, "he has a severe case of ‘dental phobia.’ When can you remove them?"

   "Will you quit talkin’ about me like I’m not here?" Starsky growled.

   Dr. Givens replied, "I can remove the abscessed one and we can book an appointment at a later date to extract the other one, or I can remove both the day after tomorrow."

   Starsky opened his mouth to speak, when Hutch interrupted him. "Both. Pull them both, because you probably won’t get a second chance."

   "All right, then," the dentist said as he made a notation in his appointment book. "I’ve written a prescription for some antibiotics. You can come back Wednesday at 4 p.m., Detective Starsky. Until then, I suggest that you eat soft foods."

   "Wednesday?" Starsky echoed. "Sorry, can’t make it, Doc., Hutch and I have to be in court that day."

   "It’s only a hearing, Starsk. We’ll be here. Thank you, Doctor," Hutch said, as he followed Starsky out of the office.

   Starsky viciously stabbed the call button for the elevator and muttered, "Not only are they gonna torture me, but they’re gonna starve me, too."

   "Don’t worry, Starsk, if worse comes to worst, we can always put a burrito in the blender."

   *******

   After they met with Orange, the detectives picked up Starsky’s prescription and headed for Hutch’s cottage. Starsky hadn’t said a word since the dentist’s office. He sat in front of Hutch’s TV, sulking.

   "Starsky? I’m phoning Huggy. What kind of soup would you like?"

   The question was met with stony silence.

   "Tell me what you want or you’ll end up with cream of broccoli."

   With a sigh, Hutch gave up and dialed the phone.

   "Hey, Huggy. Starsky’s got a bad tooth, and needs a special diet. Can you deliver? Good. What kind of soup have you got? Beef Vegetable? Okay, one order of that. And for dessert? Yeah, Jello would be good." He looked over at Starsky and loudly said, "Lime Jello."

   Starsky’s head shot up, "No lime Jello!"

   "What flavor do you want, then?"

   "Cherry."

   "Did you get that, Huggy? Good. I’d like a grilled ham and cheese on rye, with... just a second. What, Starsk?"

   Starsky was standing over Hutch, glaring. "You’re not gonna eat real food in fronta me," Starsky whined.

   With a heavy sigh, Hutch told Huggy to bring two orders of soup and Jello. Starsky smiled, pleased with his victory. He headed over to the ‘fridge and took out a beer.

   Hutch took the bottle out of Starsky’s hand. "No beer. You’re taking medication."

   "If I can’t have any, you can’t have any."

   "Fine," Hutch replied, exasperated.

   After a late supper, the detectives watched a movie on television. Hutch glanced over at Starsky, who attempted to stifle a yawn.

   "Here," Hutch said, handing Starsky an armload of blankets and a pillow.

   "What’s this?"

   "The infection has spread to your brain. It’s blankets and a pillow. You’re my houseguest for the duration."

   "Hutch," he said, irritated, "I don’t need a babysitter."

   "Humor me. You’re not going to be able to sleep, and this is easier than me driving all the way over to your place in the middle of the night."

   Starsky reluctantly accepted the blankets and started making up his bed on the couch. He undressed, crawled under the covers and tried to sleep.

   Half an hour later, Hutch looked over and saw the couch was empty. He found Starsky pacing the floor. Turning on the lights, Hutch got out the Monopoly board. He placed the board on the coffee table and found a chair so that Starsky could remain on the couch.

   *******

   "Starsk, you have two houses on Marvin Gardens..." he looked up and saw that Starsky was sound asleep. After pulling the blankets over his sleeping partner, Hutch crept back to his bed.

   *******

   A large black limo pulled away from the police station. In the back seat were Manny Silva and his lawyer, Max Wellish. Manny was a bit rumpled after the car wash and a night in jail, but he had a smug grin on his face.

   Max said nervously, "You’re in a lot of trouble, Mr. Silva. They’ve got you on charges from unpaid parking tickets all the way up to Murder One. They’ve got witnesses, names, dates."

   Manny’s laughter filled the confined space, "You worry too much, Max. Those witnesses won’t talk once we hit the arresting officers. If those cops die, what chance will the witnesses think they have? Get a hold of Prichard and Ross. Tell ‘em I’ve got a job for them."

   "It’ll take a couple of days to track Starsky and Hutchinson down."

   Manny replied, "I know exactly where they’ll be – Dr. Givens’ dental office. And I know a certain dental assistant who’ll be glad to help us out, once she finds out it’s either those cops or her father."

   "I’ll set it up, sir."

   *******

   The detectives were nearing the end of their shift when Captain Dobey stuck his head out of his office and said, "Starsky, Hutchinson, in here."

   Starsky sedately walked in and plopped down in a chair. Hutch took a seat beside him. Captain Dobey, who was accustomed to Starsky bounding in and sitting with his feet up on the desk, looked quizzically at Hutch, who merely shrugged.

   "How’s the tooth?"

   "It still hurts," Starsky complained. "And if I have one more bowl of soup, I’m gonna float away."

   "I just wanted to tell you that Silva made bail."

   "They gave him bail?" Starsky shouted, outraged. "What about the witnesses? Doesn’t the judge care about their safety?"

   "All three witnesses are in protective custody."

   Starsky leaped to his feet and started pacing back and forth. "That stinks! A crook like Manny is out walkin’ around while innocent witnesses are locked up?"

   "It’s the best we can do," the Captain snapped. "I told you before I don’t make the rules. I just want you to know that Silva is out, and you and Hutch should watch your step."

   *******

   Starsky and Hutch stopped by Huggy’s restaurant on the way home from work. After their meal, they returned to the canal-side cottage. The phone was ringing as Hutch unlocked the door. He ran to answer it.

   "Hello? Oh, hello Mrs. Starsky. Right...Rachel. Yeah, he’s here, hang on."

   Starsky accepted the receiver. "Hi, Ma. What’s up? You’ve been calling me at home and getting no answer? Well, I’ve been staying at Hutch’s. No, no one is trying to kill us. No, I’m not sick or hurt. Hutch is okay, too. Ma...Ma..."

   Hutch had an amused grin on his face as he went about setting up the Monopoly board.

   "Ma...Ma...," Starsky pleaded, "I’m fine. I’m just goin’ to the dentist tomorrow, and Hutch thinks I need a babysitter. I’m fine, really, Ma. You’re doing what on Friday? Oh, okay have fun. Yeah," he said, looking up at Hutch, "I’ll tell him. Love you, goodbye Ma." He hung up the phone. "She just wanted to tell me that she’s taking a cake decorating class in Queens Friday night, and she thought by the time she took the subway home, it would be too late to call.

   "Cake decorating? She wants to be prepared to decorate a wedding cake for David Michael Starsky, or Nicholas Marvin Starsky?" Hutch teased.

   "She said she’d be glad to decorate a wedding cake for her other ‘son’ Kenneth Richard Hutchinson."

   "Tell her she’s too late. Besides, no matter how beautiful it was, it wouldn’t have been good enough for Vanessa. Our wedding cake was flown in from New York. It was so elaborate, I thought doves were going to fly out when we stuck the knife into it. Van. threatened me that if I dropped so much as a crumb on her designer wedding dress, or smeared the cake on her face, that I’d be sleeping on the couch. I should have risked it, since I spent the first year of our marriage on the couch, anyway. By the way, what were you supposed to tell me?"

   Starsky frowned and said, "Ma told me to tell you that there’s a special place in heaven for someone who’ll look after her son the night before he has a dental appointment."

   Hutch laughed. "Come on, it’s time for our Monopoly marathon. You get to be the car tonight."

   *******

   Hutch woke up in the chair, his Monopoly money scattered around him. He got up and turned out the lights. "Starsk," he shook the dark haired man gently, "Good morning, sleepyhead. Get up, we have to get to court."

   *******

   The detectives were excused early from court. Hutch parked his LTD in front of the dental office building. Hutch got out; Starsky remained in the car.

   "Aw, come on, Starsk. It’ll be over soon. Do it and get it over with."

   Starsky muttered, "They’ve been there all this time, why can’t they just leave ‘em?"

   "You don’t want to keep the lovely Crystal waiting. Do you want her to think you’re chicken? Okay, I’ll just have to tell her you’re not coming."

   "Have you ever considered blackmail as a career?" Starsky asked, sourly. He opened the car door, got out, and headed into the building.

   *******

   Starsky sat in the dentist’s chair, fingernails dug into the armrests. He was counting the holes in the ceiling tile – anything to get his mind off of the drilling. The dentist had to cut the teeth to extract them.

   After what seemed like an eternity, the dentist announced, "Just one more stitch and you’ll be done, Dave. There. Finished. You can come back in Saturday morning and have the stitches removed. Just lie back and rest for a moment. Crystal will change the dressings once more before you leave." Dr. Givens left the treatment room and went to his next patient.

   Crystal returned, carrying a syringe.

   "Whas tha’ for?" Starsky slurred.

   In a sweet voice, Crystal replied, "Dr. Givens did an awful lot of pulling. He’s prescribed a painkiller, for when the freezing comes out." She gave Starsky the shot and left the room.

   Starsky blinked as the room took on a fuzzy, glowing appearance. He began to panic.

   He shakily pulled himself out of the chair and spit out the gauze dressing. Finding no one in the hallway, he wandered down to a door with "Dr. Steven Givens" on the nameplate. Starsky entered the unoccupied office. After a quick glance at the large mahogany desk and the wall of medical journals, he walked over to a set of floor-to- ceiling curtains. He pulled the curtains back to reveal glass patio doors. Sliding the doors open, he stepped out onto a large terrace.

   Starsky gazed in awe at the white rock path, the huge flower boxes, and the potted trees. The "floor" of the terrace was covered in wood chips. A park bench sat off to one side.

   He walked over and climbed up on the foot-wide ledge, gazing out at the city that stretched out before him.

   *******

   Hutch sat uneasily in the waiting room. He ran his thumb over the intricate design on his pocket watch. Unable to resist the temptation, he flipped the cover open and checked the time.

   He noticed Crystal walk into the staff room, and decided to ask her how Starsky was doing. When he reached the doorway, he saw that she was on the phone.

   "It’s all done. He won’t know what hit him and the other guy is so worried, he won’t suspect a thing, either. Until it’s all over." She froze when she noticed Hutch in the doorway.

   Hutch strode over to Crystal, with a murderous look in his eye. The phone receiver clattered to the desk. Hutch grabbed her wrist and handcuffed her to the filing cabinet. Ignoring her protests, he left her there, ran down the hall and burst into exam room #1. Doctor Givens was about to inject a 50-ish female patient with novocaine. His head shot up.

   "What’s the meaning of this?" the dentist demanded.

   "It’s an ambush! Take your patient, go to another office in the building, and call the police. Captain Dobey, Metro division. And stay there until it’s safe!" he ordered.

   "But what about my assistant, Crystal?"

   "Leave her, she’s in on it. Go! Now!" Hutch ran down to exam room #2 and flung the door open. The chair was empty. He continued on to the dentist’s office at the end of the hall. Nothing.

   His eye caught a slight movement. The curtains on the far wall were billowing in the breeze. Cautiously, he walked up and pulled them aside. He stepped out onto the terrace, frantically searching for his missing partner.

   Hutch’s heart leapt into his throat. Starsky was running back and forth on the ledge, arms stretched out, making airplane noises. Careful not to make any sudden movements, he called out, "Starsky, come down."

   "Hush," Starsky slurred, taking a few steps away, "You can’t catch me!"

   "I’m not chasing you. Come down now before you fall."

   Starsky put his hands on his hips and stuck out his chin, "Won’t fall," he said, indignantly as he swayed from side to side. "I’m Shu..., I’m Shuperman! I can fly!" He spun around.

   "You’re not Superman! You’re David Michael Starsky. Starsky, you can not fly. Now get down here!" Hutch ordered, firmly.

   "You’re no fun," Starsky said, petulantly. He turned and ran off to the far end of the terrace.

   "Wait," Hutch called urgently, "I -- I want to play. Will you play my game?"

   Starsky looked skeptical. "Depensh. Wha ish it?"

   "It’s called ‘Statue’. You stand as absolutely still as you can, and the first one who moves loses."

   Starsky frowned, deep in thought. "Tha doeshn’t shound like fun."

   "Could you play it just once, please?" Hutch pleaded.

   "’Kay,"

   "One more thing, Starsk. It’s a secret."

   "A shecret?" Starsky said, with a curious expression on his face.

   "Yeah, this’ll help you win."

   "What ish it?"

   "Listen carefully. If you focus on one spot, like say, that air vent over there on the wall, it makes it easier to stand still."

   "Oh," Starsky said with a smile. "Wish air vent?"

   Irritated, Hutch replied, "Starsk, there’s only one air vent..." He looked up into Starsky’s glazed eyes, shook his head and softly said, "The right air vent. Focus on the right air vent."

   Starsky stared intently at the vent and didn’t take his eyes off it until Hutch grabbed him and flung them both to the terrace floor. With a sigh of relief, Hutch drew Starsky closer and pulled him into a hug.

   "Hush, Hush!"

   "What, Starsky? Are you hurt?", he asked, concerned.

   With a silly grin on his face, Starsky replied, "I won!"

   Hutch laughed and shook his head in exasperation. "Come on, let’s get up."

   The detectives scrambled to their feet. Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway, holding a gun. Hutch grabbed Starsky and flung him to the ground behind a flower box as bullets flew over their heads. Hutch reached for his own gun.

   "Ish thish a new game?" Starsky asked, raising his head above the top of the flower box.

   "Starsky, get down!" Hutch yelled as he grabbed his friend’s collar and yanked him down.

   "Whacha do tha’ for?"

   "So you wouldn’t get your head blown off!" Hutch snapped.

   "Bullesh can’t hurt me. I’m Shuperman."

   "You are not Superman."

   "Yesh I am."

   Hutch gave up trying to reason with his drugged partner. "These are special bullets. They can even hurt Superman. Now stay here while I get that guy. And keep your head down!"

   Starsky watched as Hutch ran and hid behind the park bench. "Gee, Hush ‘s real boshy," he said to himself.

   Hutch circled around behind a potted tree and shot the hitman in the shoulder. After taking the man’s gun away, Hutch reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his extra set of handcuffs. While he was cuffing the man, he didn’t notice that a second gunman had appeared in the doorway. The blond detective looked up and froze.

   Starsky saw the hitman and sprinted over to the wall. Hugging the wall, he edged closer. He grabbed a large ceramic plant pot and smashed it over the man’s head. The gunman landed in a crumpled heap.

   "Thanks, Starsk," Hutch called out.

   "S’no problem," Starsky shrugged, "I’m Shuperman."

   Hutch laughed, shaking his head in amazement. "Come on, Superman, let’s go see the dental assistant." Hutch picked up both of the hitmen’s guns, holstered his own gun and shepherded Starsky back into the office, locking the terrace doors behind them.

   Several uniformed police officers had arrived. Hutch told them where to find the hitmen. Captain Dobey was standing in the waiting room questioning Crystal and the dentist. The Captain looked at Hutch questioningly as he dragged Starsky in and deposited him face down on the leather couch. Starsky struggled to get up.

   "Stay down."

   "Not shleepy."

   Hutch pushed his partner back down and put his knee in the middle of Starsky’s back.

   With cold eyes, Hutch angrily turned to Crystal and growled, "What did you give him, lady?"

   She held out a small bottle in her shaking hand.

   Hutch grabbed the bottle and thrust it at Doctor Givens. "What is this stuff?"

   "It’s a narcotic we use," the dentist explained. "She must have given him a large dose."

   Keeping his knee on Starsky’s back, Hutch turned back to Crystal. "How much did you give him?" he demanded. "How much?" he yelled louder. He reached over and grabbed her wrist.

   Crystal whimpered with pain and blurted out, "20 cc’s."

   Hutch released her and turned back to the dentist.

   "It’s a high dose," Doctor Givens explained, "but it’s not an overdose. It should wear off without any major side effects. He’ll be feeling no pain for the next six to eight hours..."

   Starsky burst into song, drowning out the dentist’s words. "FEEEE--lingsh, WHOA..OH..OH, FEEEE-lingsh...WHOA...OH...OH..."

   Hutch leaned down and put his hand over Starsky’s mouth. He pulled his hand away quickly and exclaimed, "Ugh, don’t lick my hand! That’s disgusting!"

   Starsky snickered. Hutch wiped his hand on the back of Starsky’s shirt.

   The blond detective turned back to Crystal, "Who are you working for?" he demanded.

   "M-My father has gambling debts. Mr. Silva told me if I didn’t do this, he’d hurt my father."

   "So you decided drugging a police detective and setting him and his partner up for a hit was a good solution? Get her out of here," he told one of the uniformed officers.

   Starsky thrashed around on the couch.

   "Stay still," Hutch said softly. "Captain, do you have your extra set of cuffs?"

   Captain Dobey handed his cuffs to Hutch, who reached down and cuffed one of Starsky’s wrists.

   The dark haired man struggled and asked. "Wha ish thish? Are we playin’ a new game?"

   Hutch fastened the other end of the cuffs to his own wrist. "Captain, could you give us a ride home? I don’t think I can drive like this."

   "Give me your keys," Captain Dobey replied. "I’ll have Wilson follow us, so I can catch a ride back to the station."

   Doctor Givens reminded Hutch to bring Starsky back in Saturday to have his stitches removed. He excused himself and went back to his other patient.

   "I guess we’re off, then," Hutch replied.

   Starsky loudly began singing, "OFF WE GO INTO THE WILD BLUE YONDER, CLIMBIN’ HIGH INTO THE SHUN..."

   "It’s going to be a long night," Hutch sighed.

   *******

   Captain Dobey dropped his detectives off at Starsky’s place, claiming that he couldn’t tolerate another ten minutes of Starsky’s caterwauling. Hutch was relieved – he didn’t want to have to worry about fishing his partner out of the canal.

   They entered Starsky’s apartment.

   "What do you want to do?" Hutch asked, watch TV? We could play chess..."

   Starsky flipped the chess board over, sending the pieces flying.

   "Or not," Hutch said. "How ‘bout I order us some food?" He dialed the phone. "Hi, Huggy." The line went dead. Hutch looked up and saw Starsky’s finger on the disconnect button. Starsky had a silly grin on his face. "Will you cut that out?" He redialed. "Hi, Huggy, sorry about that. We’re at Starsky’s..." The line went dead again. Hutch hung up the phone. "Fine. Let’s watch some TV," he said as he led Starsky over to the couch.

   An hour later the doorbell rang. Hutch dragged his partner to the door.

   "Hi, Huggy," Hutch said.

   "Man, that is one ugly charm on your charm bracelet, Hutch," Huggy said with a grin.

   Starsky started talking, drowning out Hutch and Huggy’s conversation. "Huggy! Help! I’m under house arrest."

   "Captain Dobey stopped by, and told me what happened. I figured you could use some food," Huggy said, handing Hutch a large paper bag.

   "Thanks, Huggy. Starsky wouldn’t quit playing with the phone."

   Huggy continued, "There was a fly in the Jello, so I had to make a substitution. I hope that’s all right."

   "Starsky’d probably eat the fly."

   "That’s not Superman, that’s Spiderman," Starsky protested.

   "Well," Huggy said, with a twinkle in his eye, "much as I’d love to stay, I have to get back to mind the store."

   "Thanks, Huggy," Hutch said. He carried the bag to Starsky’s kitchen table, grateful that Huggy had included plastic utensils so he wouldn’t have to drag Starsky back and forth between the cupboard and the table. Eating the soup was difficult as Starsky had the habit of pulling on the cuffs at the exact moment Hutch got the spoon to his lips. Hutch finished eating the soup using his left hand.

   "Where’s the Jello?" Starsky asked.

   "There is no Jello, remember?" Hutch said, opening another container. "Huggy brought...uh... it looks like rice pudding."

   Starsky made a face. "I hate rice pudding," he complained. He snatched up the container and dumped the contents on Hutch’s head.

   Hutch sat there with rice and cream dripping down his face.

   "Hey," Starsky exclaimed, "It’s got raisins!". He picked a raisin out of Hutch’s hair and popped it into his mouth.

   Hutch cuffed Starsky to the bedpost while he went to wash the mess out of his hair. When he returned, he re-fastened the handcuff to his wrist.

   *******

   The movie on TV ended and Hutch announced, "Time for bed."

   "You can uncuff me now," Starsky said.

   "Not until I know the drugs are out of your system."

   "But it’s early," Starsky protested.

   "I’m tired, and I want to get some sleep. I’m going to handcuff you to the bedpost again so you can put on your pjs."

   Hutch returned from the bathroom, wearing only his boxers. He fastened the handcuff to his right wrist. "Move over, Starsk. I need more room."

   They lay on their sides, Starsky’s left handcuffed arm over Hutch’s stomach. Hutch leaned over and turned out the bedside lamp.

   "Hutch?"

   No answer.

   Then a little louder, "Hutch?!?!"

   Hutch groaned, rolled over and said, "What, Starsk?"

   "I can’t sleep."

   "Neither can I," Hutch said, crossly.

   The irony was lost on Starsky.

   "Hutch?"

   "What?"

   "You’re my best friend."

   "You’re my best friend, too. Now that we’ve got that cleared up, can I get some sleep?"

   "Will ya sing for me?" Starsky pleaded.

   "No!"

   "Why not? Come on, Hutch..."

   "Starsky, for one thing, I’m tired. Besides, I can’t play the guitar when I’m cuffed to you."

   "That’s okay. Sing accop, appa, apacello..."

   With a heavy sigh, Hutch said, "Lie back and close your eyes. I’ll sing the one you heard on the radio the other day."

   " ‘Kay."

   Hutch began to sing softly,

   "Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone

   Susanne the plans they made put an end to you

   I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song

   I just can't remember who to send it to.

   I've seen fire and I've seen rain

   I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

   I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend

   But I always thought that I'd see you again."

   "That’s... that’s a sad song," Starsky said, wiping away a tear. But there’s nothin’ like a good sing-a-long.

   At the top of his lungs, he sang,

   "I’M HENRY THE EIGHTH, I AM

   ‘EN-E-RY THE EIGHTH, I AM, I AM

   I GOT MARRIED TO THE WIDOW NEXT DOOR

   SHE’S BEEN MARRIED SEVEN TIMES BEFORE.

   C’mon, Hutch, join in. Second verse, same as the first... I’M HENRY..."

   Hutch rolled over and stuck his head under his pillow, where it remained until morning.

   *******

   Starsky’s arm was flung over the figure in bed next to him. His head was throbbing.

   He moved his fingers around on the bare belly.

   Soft skin...Wow, muscles! She must work out. And why does she smell like Hutch’s aftershave? He pulled himself up onto one elbow and peeked under the pillow.

   "Hutch? What the hell are you doin’ in my bed?" he yelled, pulling away, until the handcuffs restricted his motion. "AAAAH! An’ why is there blood on my pillow?"

   A sleepy voice replied, "Will you quit pulling on my wrist! I’m lucky there’s any skin left on it after yesterday. Take it easy. Remember you went to the dentist yesterday to have your wisdom teeth out?"

   Starsky thought a moment and nodded, "Yeah."

   "Well, while you were there, the dental assistant, Crystal, drugged you and set us up for a hit."

   "Silva?"

   "Silva."

   Starsky scratched his head with his free hand. "I don’t remember."

   "Let’s just say you were ‘feeling no pain.’ "

   "I hope I didn’t do anythin’ stupid."

   With a laugh, Hutch replied, "You were teetering on a ledge ten stories up. You said you were Superman; thought you could fly. And then there was the singing. Captain Dobey really enjoyed that. I won’t bring up the ‘rice pudding incident’. Let’s just say, if there were chandeliers, you’d have swung from them."

   Starsky paled, "Hutch, I’m really sorry."

   "It’s okay, Starsk. Even in your ‘altered state’ you did manage to save me from Manny’s hitman." He reached over to the nightstand for the handcuff keys. "Well, you look rational this morning, I guess I can release you. You also look like a chipmunk. How do you feel?"

   "Like I was run over by a speeding locomotive," Starsky said, ruefully. "Why is there blood on my pillow?"

   "It’s from the incisions. They’re going to ooze for a few days. You’ll have to keep eating soft foods, and keep taking your medication until the infection is cleared up.

   "Terrific," Starsky said, disgusted.

   "How about some pancakes for breakfast? I’ll even let you put chocolate syrup on them."

   "Salsa’s better."

   "Yuck. I think I’ll eat in my car."

   *******

   Hutch parked his LTD in front of the dental office building. It was Saturday morning, and only a few cars lined the streets. He started to walk towards the entrance when he realized he was alone.

   "Come on, Starsky. He’s just going to take the stitches out. Piece of cake."

   Starsky remained in the car.

   "If you don’t come, now, we’ll be late."

   "Late for what?" the dark haired man asked.

   "The races."

   "Aw, Hutch, you know I love ya, but horse racing just isn’t my thing."

   "Who said anything about horse racing?" Hutch asked, as he pulled two tickets out of his shirt pocket. "We’re going to Nelson Speedway."

   "Stock car racing?" he said, his face lighting up, "C’mon, Hutch let’s get this over with. We don’t want to be late." Starsky got out of the car and bounded into the building.

   *******

   There was a steady stream of people in cars and on foot heading into the entrance gate at the racetrack. After a long wait in line, Hutch pulled up beside a man wearing an orange vest, who was directing traffic.

   The man walked over, "No, no, no! You can’t leave that here."

   "Well, where am I supposed to park, then?"

   "Go see Eddie. Through that gate, down the lane, and take a left."

   "Hurry up, Hutch, we’re going to miss the start of the race."

   "I’m hurrying as fast as I can go," Hutch said, braking as yet another pedestrian cut in front of the car.

   "You mean you’re hurrying as fast as this junk heap can go," Starsky muttered.

   "What?"

   "Nothing," Starsky replied, feigning innocence.

   Hutch gave his partner a sideways glance. "Yeah, right," he said, dryly.

   "Why can’t we park in the normal lot?" Starsky asked.

   "I don’t know."

   Hutch drove to an area that was enclosed by small storage buildings. There was a semi truck with a flatbed trailer, sitting crossways in the center of the lot. Several men were trying to push a damaged racecar onto the trailer.

   A small man in an orange vest, carrying a clipboard was barking instructions. He walked over to Hutch’s car waving his arms. "No, look, you’re blocking the exit. We have to get this sorted out first. You’ll have to wait."

   "We don’t want to miss the start of the race," Hutch explained.

   "Leave me the keys, and I’ll move it when I’ve got a spot."

   Hutch tossed the man his keys and said, "Be careful, don’t dent it."

   The man looked at Hutch’s battered car and growled, "Everybody’s a wise guy."

   Starsky and Hutch made their way to the grandstand.

   *******

   "This is just great, Hutch. Just listen to that – the roar of the engines..."

   "...the reek of gasoline...", Hutch said dryly.

   "It’s a great day to be at the races..."

   "...under the beating hot sun. Now I know why they call them ‘bleachers’," Hutch complained, fanning himself with his program.

   "You shoulda bought yourself a hat."

   "There’s no way I’d be caught dead in a baseball cap with the front end of a race car sticking out of it. I’m going down to the overpriced snack bar."

   "You can’t go now, you’ll miss half of the race," Starsky protested.

   "What’s to miss? A bunch of guys going around and around an oval for 250 laps, the first 249 of which aren’t important."

   "You just don’t understand the challenge of auto racing."

   "Sure I do. It’s just a bunch of good ‘ol boys who need a big engine to make up for their ‘inadequacies’, if you know what I mean."

   Starsky glanced around nervously, "Will you keep it down," he hissed, "If I have to take you to the ER with a fractured skull, I’ll miss the end of the race."

   "I’ll be right back." Hutch got up and started down the steps.

   "Don’t forget the popcorn," Starsky called out.

   After the race ended, Hutch appeared, carrying a cardboard tray that held two drinks. In his other hand was a plastic bag.

   "Where’s the popcorn?" Starsky whined.

   "You can’t have popcorn or peanuts until your mouth heals." Hutch explained. "Here, I brought you some cotton candy and a root beer."

   "Thanks, Hutch. You missed the end of the race."

   "Yeah? Who won?"

   "The car with the radio station logo. Hey, what’s that? You’re having beer!"

   "Starsk, I’ve had nothing but soup and Jello for the past week. I want, no, I need, a beer."

   "Could I have some? Just a swallow?"

   Hutch glared at Starsky, then reluctantly handed him the paper cup.

   "Aaaah...that’s good."

   "So, what’s next?"

   "This is great, you’re gonna love this, Hutch. It’s the demolition derby."

   The two men watched as the cars entered from the far end of the racetrack. The final car looked very familiar – a tan LTD with numerous dents and dings. There was a freshly painted number 12, in bright red, on the driver’s side door.

   Starsky was the first to speak, "Hey, isn’t that..."

   "My car!" Hutch yelped, as he jumped up and ran down the stairs two at a time on his way to the judge’s booth.

   Starsky, unfazed, leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "Before the demolition derby, after the demolition derby, who’s gonna know the difference?" He grinned and downed the rest of Hutch’s beer.