Disclaimer: Written for entertainment only – not meant to infringe on rights held to Starsky & Hutch. The dialogue in Part 4 between the ~~~~ is from the episode Starsky vs. Hutch, written by Rick Edelstein.
Comments about this story can be sent to: mariodee94@yahoo.com  

Something Missing

by

Marlene S

Prologue - Starsky’s POV

   I shoulda realized what was going on months ago – maybe even before that – but I didn’t. Some detective, huh, can’t even see what’s right in front of me sometimes. Well, maybe it wasn’t so much "not seeing" what was there, but more like, not noticing that something was missing.

Part 1
Takes place after the episode Strange Justice – Starsky’s POV.

   I had just dropped my date back at her place, and it was pretty late, but I decided to go by Hutch’s place anyway. The light was on inside, but there was no answer when I knocked. I’m not even sure why I knocked really. I almost never do. I guess I was feeling a little uneasy. Anyway, the door was unlocked, so I just went in.

   It was almost midnight, but I wasn’t really surprised to find Hutch in the greenhouse. He glanced up when I came in, but then went back to whatever he was doin’ to one of his plants. There was some music on, pretty soft, but maybe that’s why he didn’t hear me knock.

   "Whatcha doin’?"

   "What’s it look like I’m doing?" The words were a little sarcastic, but the way he said it wasn’t. His voice was real quiet. He glanced over at me again but didn’t really turn away from the plant.

   "You mad at me?" I didn’t really have to ask that. I think I already knew.

   "Should I be?" His voice was still quiet. No accusation there. Just a question.

   "I dunno," I answered with a shrug.

   He just shook his head and continued to pick at the plant. I think he was takin’ dead leaves off, but he seemed nervous or maybe preoccupied ‘cause he was gettin’ a little carried away. So, I came closer and rescued the poor thing by pickin’ it up off the shelf in front of him.

   "You keep doin’ that and poor Beauregard is gonna be naked." I smiled at him, but he just looked away. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and down his face like he does sometimes. Like he’s tryin’ to clear stuff outta his head. Always too much goin’ on in that blond head of his. Sometimes I wonder why it doesn’t explode or somethin’.

   "That’s not Beauregard," was all he said.

   "Oh," I said, takin’ another look at the plant. "Who is it?"

   "Miranda."

   "Which one’s Beauregard?"

   He just pointed at another plant nearby as he picked up a bottle and started spraying one of the rest of "the jungle."

   I set "Miranda" back down and looked at the plant he’d pointed to, wondering how the hell he could tell them apart. "Well, they do look a lot alike."

   I saw him roll his eyes. Then in that uppity voice he uses on me sometimes, he said, "They’re totally different plants, Starsky." He launched into a lecture, telling me what kind of plants they were and how you could tell the difference by the leaves, but I was still wondering if he was mad at me and not really paying attention.

   After awhile, I guess he realized I wasn’t really into the plant speech because he just stopped talking all of a sudden in the middle of a sentence. He was still spraying plants.

   After a few more minutes of waiting, I moved up behind him and touched his arm. He turned around startled and dropped the spray bottle. I didn’t mean to sneak up on him, but he always says I move like a cat.

   "Sorry," I said softly, putting my other hand on his other arm to steady him. He didn’t seem too steady though. "Babe . . ." I started and leaned toward him.

   "Starsk, don’t . . ." He said it in a husky, uncertain voice and tried to pull back, but I sorta had him backed into a corner. His voice was telling me to stop, but his body and even the tone of his voice didn’t seem to agree. That’s one thing about Hutch, he always responds to me. Says he can’t say ‘no’ to me. Actually, he does say ‘no’ a lot of times, but I usually get my way in the end, so I guess he’s right.

   I pulled back a little, and he managed to squeeze between me and the plants and made a beeline outta the greenhouse, mumbling something I didn’t quite catch.

   I followed him out and found him in the living room, lookin’ out the window, even though the only streetlight out there was kinda dim and there wasn’t much of anything to look at.

   "What did you say?" I asked.

   I’m sure I had a puzzled look on my face because I didn’t understand what was goin’ on. You see Hutch is my best friend and that’s the most important thing in the world to me. But sometimes, . . . well, . . . we’ve gone a little further than friendship – if ya know what I mean.

   Not long ago, we had a stupid bet on a game of hide-and-seek. Then I found out he’d eaten soup with botulism in it. Since he didn’t know about the soup, I had to find him before . . . well anyway, I almost didn’t make it. It wasn’t the first time I almost lost him, but it scared me more for some reason. Maybe because it was just a stupid game that got outta hand instead of somethin’ related to our job. After that happened, we were even closer if that’s possible, and our physical relationship really heated up for awhile.

   That is, it did until I threw water on the fire a few weeks ago. Sort of outta the blue one night when we were just sittin’ around watchin’ TV, I just came out with "I’m not really gay, you know." Right after I said it, I wondered where did that come from. I mean, really – if I’m honest with myself – I have to at least admit to being bisexual. But I didn’t say that to him.

   He didn’t seem all that surprised by my little revelation. He just said, "Sooner or later, Starsk, you’ll have to make a choice." My partner, always the voice of reason.

   But I didn’t wanna hear reason. I don’t wanna have to choose. I love Hutch. I always have. Nothin’ ever changes that, but sometimes . . . Well, I’m not sure what it is about me and him – but sometimes it scares the hell outta me. Maybe it’s just the idea of bein’ "gay" that scares me. I want a "normal" life with a wife and kids and everything. But I want Hutch too. I guess that’s not very fair to him.

   The funny thing is, when I really think about the future, all the other stuff, the kids, the wife, it’s all pretty foggy. Hutch isn’t though. I can always see him real clear.

   Anyway, I’m gettin’ way off base here. Where was I?

   Oh, yeah, we just came outta the greenhouse and he was lookin’ out the window. I was standin’ behind him, but I could see his face reflected in the glass. He had mumbled somethin’ as he left the greenhouse, and I’d asked him what he said.

   When he finally answered me, he had his voice back under control again. He said it very clearly this time, "You smell like her perfume."

   Sometimes it takes me awhile to catch on to what’s goin’ on in that pretty blond head of his, but the light bulb was definitely on now. Even though our physical relationship had cooled a little, it was far from over. Partly because of my stupid little speech though, we were both dating girls again. I guess I knew that wasn’t really what he wanted, but I didn’t let myself think about it too much.

   Hutch," I said softly, "we’ve been through all this."

   He didn’t answer me. Just kept looking out the window.

   "I could take a shower?" I suggested hopefully. Yeah, like a little soap and water was gonna wash away what was wrong.

   He sighed and shook his head. "It wouldn’t matter."

   I didn’t like the sound of that. I moved closer ‘til I was just a few feet behind him. "What’s that s’posed to mean?"

   He just shook his head and didn’t turn around.

   I waited a few more minutes. I’m a pretty patient guy especially with my partner, but I was starting to get a little exasperated. Finally, I said, "C’mon, Hutch, this is getting a little old."

   He turned around then. Most of his face was frowning, but he had a scared look in his eyes. "What is?"

   "Tryin’ to pull information outta you all the time." He relaxed a little at that. Wonder what he thought I meant. "Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on, for a change?"

   He sighed again. Then he paced a few steps away from the window and back again. Finally, he turned to face me. "Look, I know we’ve talked about it before . . . dating, I mean. I know how you feel. I guess I don’t really understand why you feel that way, but I think I can live with it . . . most of the time anyway."

   He paused, still looking right at me. I just met his look without flinching, even though I was pretty sure where he was going, and it was making me a little nervous.

   "But why her?" Yeah, he was on to me all right. "Geezus, Dee O’Reilly, of all people? Why her, Starsk?" He repeated, and I couldn’t miss the pain in his eyes when he said it.

   I looked away from him then. It’s hard to look at someone you care about when you know they hurt and it’s your fault. "How’d you find out about that?" I asked quietly, staring at the floor.

   He didn’t answer right away, so I chanced a quick glance at him. The pain was still there, but I could tell he was angry too. Those baby blues had a little of that icy look, the one he uses when we’re interrogatin’ somebody.

   "Not from you," was all he said, but I heard the part he didn’t say. Like I should have.

   "I’m sorry." I really was sorry he found out, but I hadn’t told him because, honestly, I didn’t want him to know. It was just one date after all. One in how many that never ended up anywhere. "What good would it a done to tell you." Even as I said it, I knew that answer sounded really lame.

   Guess he thought so too ‘cause he just shook his head and turned back to the window.

   "C’mon, Hutch, she’s pretty and smart and . . ." ‘Gutsy’ is the word I was thinking. That’s really what I liked about her. But I didn’t say it that way. Instead I used the word "dedicated."

   Guess I screwed up there because he whirled around at me, definitely icy now. "Yeah, so dedicated, she managed to give me fifteen parking tickets in less than a month."

   "Fifteen?!" I had no idea it was so many. Maybe he was exaggerating. I started to figure out how much money that was, but Hutch already knew.

   "Even if at twenty bucks a piece, that’s three-hundred dollars." He was just about ranting again, like he had been at the station earlier. "That’s if it’s only twenty a piece. And even forgetting about the money, now she wants to hang me out to dry for harassment. I don’t harass women, Starsk, you know that."

   Suddenly all the fire and ice went out of him. He walked passed me to the couch and sat down heavily on it. "That’s the worst part about it," he said quietly.

   I think he lost me again. "What is?" I asked, puzzled, as I cautiously followed him to the couch but I didn’t sit down.

   "You."

   "Me?"

   "Yeah, you," he said fairly quietly. Then he added almost whispering, "You don’t even care."

   You think I’m consorting with the enemy, Buddy? I sat down carefully on the couch, but not right next to him and said, "Of course, I care, Hutch," as reassuringly as I could and reached out to put my hand on his leg.

   He jumped up off the couch like my hand was on fire and started pacing again. I hate it when he does that – paces, I mean. I’m s’posed to do it, not him.

   "You sure don’t act like it. Making wisecracks about my car . . ."

   "I always make jokes about your car." I tried to point out, but Hutch continued his ranting.

   ". . . acting like it’s all no big deal . . . like you wouldn’t be mad if you were in my shoes . . . and then on top of everything else, you’re dating her."

   "It was one date, Hutch."

   "It doesn’t matter – it’s the principle of it." Oh, boy, when he starts on about "principles" I know I’m in trouble.

   "Why do you want to date her when you know she hates me?" His voice was quiet again, almost like he was afraid of the answer. I guess I shoulda thought about that more at the time too. I mean, what was he really afraid of.

   "I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. She’s just doin’ her job." Not a very good answer to his question, since I’m sure he didn’t care how she felt. He was asking about my feelings.

   "Oh, yeah, sure," he was back to pissed again and still pacing. "Doing her job. Fifteen tickets, Starsky? That’s just doing her job? Why are you defending her?"

   But I knew that what he really wanted to know was, Why aren’t you on my side, Partner?

   I knew I wasn’t gettin’ anywhere with words, so I tried to show him that I was on his side. I moved in front of him, and put my hands on his shoulders. That stopped the pacing, but it didn’t calm him down. If anything, maybe just the opposite. He looked real uncomfortable.

   "Starsky, don’t . . ." He was shaking his head and backing away. Actually, he was shaking all over a little. Damn, this was getting frustrating. I moved my hands off his shoulders.

   "What?" I asked, shaking my head and holding out my hands, like I was giving myself up. "What’s goin’ on, Hutch?"

   "Starsky, I can’t . . ." He rubbed both hands over his face. Then he took a deep breath, looked up at me, and said in a husky voice, "I can’t do that anymore."

   I just looked at him – speechless.

   I knew what he was talkin’ about. And I knew he was serious about it. Once Hutch makes up his mind about somethin,’ he’s pretty stubborn ‘bout changin’ it. But somethin’ wasn’t quite right. His body certainly didn’t agree with the decision, and from the look on his face, it was obviously the last thing he really wanted to say. I probably could have persuaded him to change his mind.

   But I didn’t try.

   I went and sat on the couch. After a few minutes and a heavy sigh, I managed to say, "If that’s what you want . . ." I guess I wanted to believe that it was all his decision, but now, when I think about it, I realize that I’m really the one who had made the choices. He was just doing what he had to for self-defense. And like I said, I didn’t even try to change his mind.

   "It’s not what I want," he said with a sigh of his own, "but that’s the way it has to be."

   I just sat there for a long time. I didn’t know what to say, or even what I was feeling. I guess I was just numb.

   Finally, I had to ask, "We’re still partners?"

   "Yes." No hesitation.

   "Friends?"

   Another sigh. "Always."

   He was as good as his word. Always is. We were still partners – kept doin’ our jobs. We were still friends – that’ll never change. But we stopped the physical stuff. I tried not to touch him as much, which is hard because we both need that sometimes. We knocked on each other’s doors after that and tried not to push the boundaries. That was hard too ‘cause we’d never had any boundaries before.

   But I also had a little chat with Officer O’Reilly and got her to drop the harassment charge. My charming personality, ya know. I didn’t date her anymore either. I dunno why, but I didn’t really want to. Oh, and I got Hutch out of the parking tickets too.

Part 2
Takes place during the episode Black and Blue – Hutch’s POV

   I really have been tired lately, but laying here in the hospital isn’t exactly my idea of rest. Especially, when Starsky’s out there.

   I’ve been trying to read these stupid magazines, but the only halfway decent one he brought me was Reader’s Digest. I don’t know what’s goin’ on with him lately. I mean, Hot Rod and Auto World ?! Sometimes, I think he’s trying to get even with me, but that’s probably just my guilty conscience. I do stuff like that; he doesn’t.

   Heart of gold – my partner. Probably, he just didn’t make it over to my place yet. He didn’t bring me any clothes or anything either.

   Damn, I wish he were here.

   Even if I knew he was at the station or at home, it’d be okay. But he isn’t. He’s working on the case – without me. And that’s what’s really bugging me, the "without me" part. Especially, since it was my own fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid, I wouldn’t be here now, and he wouldn’t be out there somewhere, possibly in danger, without me.

   But I hesitated too long when I saw her – just a kid. Pretty stupid really. She obviously had no problems with shooting me.

   Another thing that was bugging me was that Starsky wouldn’t talk to me about the case. I tried to tell myself he was just kidding when he said, "My partner’s filled in plenty." Or maybe, he wanted me to rest and not think about it. He should know me better than that. He should know I just worry more if I don’t know what’s going on.

   And then there’s this nagging thought that he’s probably better off with a different partner. After all, I’m not the easiest person to live with. Ask anybody. Starting with my parents. And then Vanessa. Well, you can’t really ask her. Abby too.

   No, women never stick around me for long. Maybe they realize where my heart really is.

   Sometimes, I can’t help but think that maybe Starsky would be better off without me too.

   I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think it’s just that I’m so damn tired. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to chip away at a mountain with a dinner fork. I’ve always been a little moody now and then, but it’s been worse lately. I’d do anything for Starsky, and I’m pretty sure he knows that, but it seems like I’m always taking my frustrations out on him.

   I guess he does it to me too, but he isn’t as mean about it.

   He did get me back not too long ago though. Sent me out the door with a blindfold on. If I hadn’t been showing off like I was, I may not have fallen down the stairs. That’s probably why he did it though because I was showing off, I mean.

   I really wasn’t though. I was just feeling so good that the case was over with and that Emily was gonna be okay, but I guess that’s what it looked like. Maybe I’m just an arrogant bastard like my father, and somebody needs to pull me down a peg or two. He did it too, but it really wasn’t like him. I mean, it doesn’t seem like something he would normally do.

   That bothers me too because I wonder if I’ve contaminated him or something.

   And now, I’m here in this stupid room. Four white walls. Everything’s white actually. No wonder hospitals are so damn boring. I tried to watch TV awhile ago. Reached for the remote without thinking and made my shoulder hurt more. And of course, there wasn’t anything on worth watching anyway.

   Maybe I’ll just check myself out of here tomorrow. Even if I just go home, at least it’s better than sitting in here. . . and worrying about Starsky.

   And Joan Meredith. What if he’s really happy working with her? What if they hit it off? He’d probably never tell me he wants another partner, even if I asked him. Which I won’t. I’d be too afraid he might take me up on it.

   I know he slept with her. He didn’t tell me he did, but I can tell. I try to tell myself I’m not jealous of that. After all, I’m the one who called it off. I thought I’d feel better if we just went back to being friends like before. But I don’t feel better. I just feel even more like something’s missing. One of these days, you’ll learn, Hutchinson. One of these days . . .

   I just sighed and leaned back in bed for awhile.

   I must have fallen asleep because the phone woke me up. It was Captain Dobey. Guess I won’t wait until tomorrow to check out. Looks like Starsky needs me after all. Thank God.

Part 3
Takes place after the episode Black and Blue – Starsky’s POV

   Hutch looked terrible, so Dobey told me to go take care of him. He probably meant I should take him back to the hospital, but I just took him home instead.

   He was real quiet on the way. Just stared out the window. Probably just worn out. He shouldn’t ‘ve checked himself out like that, but I guess it’s a good thing for me he did.

   Anyway, I took him home, tried to feed him even though he didn’t wanna eat, gave him some pills, got him undressed, and put him to bed. He didn’t fight with me at all. He’s usually a terrible patient, but he was real quiet. I had him propped up with some pillows in the bed, so he seemed pretty comfortable.

   I was sittin’ on the edge of the bed next to him, dying to touch him but not knowing if he wanted me to. Finally, I smoothed some of that blond hair back away from his forehead. Man, his hair is fine and so soft like silk. Then I just left my hand there on his head a minute or so. I guess he didn’t mind the touch ‘cause he kept his eyes closed and didn’t move. Probably needed it as much as I did.

   When I started to move my hand away, he opened his eyes and started to sit up, looking startled. Then his eyes found mine and we just looked at each other for a little while. It’s sort of weird I guess, but sometimes we just don’t need any words.

   There was some kind of question in his blue eyes though that I couldn’t quite make out. I would’ve asked him about it, but he could barely keep those eyes open. Between the injury itself and the pain pills, he was zonked. And I had somethin’ else I wanted to ask ‘fore he fell asleep.

   "Hutch?" I said real soft. My hand was still in his hair.

   "Hmmn?" His eyes were closed again.

   "Care if I sleep here?"

   He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t keep ‘em that way. "You mean here?" he said, patting the bed next to him.

   I hesitated a minute, because that is what I meant, but I wondered if I should admit it. "Uh, . . . yeah . . . if it’s okay . . . or on the couch if you’d rather."

   He didn’t even try to open his eyes again, just patted the bed again. "No, here."

   I quickly stripped down to my underwear, crawled in next to him, and snuggled up to his good shoulder.

   "Starsk?" Hutch’s sleepy voice was in my ear.

   "Yeah?"

   "Don’t take advantage of me, ‘kay?"

   I picked up my head a minute and started to protest, "What?. . ." but I stopped when I saw the smug little smile on his face. He got me on that one. I just shook my head and settled back into my spot next to him. It wasn’t five minutes later and we were both sound asleep. We didn’t do anything else – just slept – that wasn’t what it was about.

Part 4
Takes place during the episode Starsky vs. Hutch – Hutch’s POV

   I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I haven’t been myself lately. Well, I guess I’m still myself. Just an older self. And I’m really tired. Tired of fighting. Fighting the bad guys. Fighting the system. Fighting with my partner. My partner – who’s also my best friend. I don’t know what the hell was I thinking . . .

   When I met Kira, I felt it right away. You know that spark you feel sometimes. It wasn’t love at first sight or anything. Just an attraction and that tiny hope something more might come of it. She was pretty, but tough too. Had a husky, sexy voice that got to me. She knew how to make me laugh too, and somehow brought a little light into my world again. I guess I hadn’t realized how dark it was getting in there.

   I found out Starsky was dating her after I asked her out. Not from Kira though. Not from him either. I thought about canceling the date, but I didn’t. I mean what the hell. He should have told me. And she said yes, so it couldn’t be all that serious. Or so I thought.

   It wasn’t that I didn’t want Starsky to have her. If anything, it might be a little that I didn’t want her to have him – although that wasn’t all of it either. Basically, it was just that I liked her, and I didn’t see why I shouldn’t have a shot.

   Like I said, I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Or maybe I did see it and chose to ignore it.

   When I came home to find Starsky sleeping on my couch that morning, you’d think I would have come to my senses, but it was actually just the opposite. I felt good about it, like I just won a round or something. Or maybe I was just glad to get his attention. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the way it should be.

   By the time I started to get it, by the time I went to talk to him about it, it was already too late . . .

   ~~~~

   "Want some coffee?"

   "Uh . . .yeah."

   "Grab a cup. It’s kinda strong."

   He wasn’t kidding. I spit it out in the sink.

   "Like the inside of a tennis shoe." I laughed a little when I said it.

   He smiled at that. "It’ll wake you up."

   "If it doesn’t kill you first." After a minute, I added, "Look, I just thought we might work out whatever the problem is."

   "Oh, there’s no problem. Not anymore." That surprised me a little.

   "Well, there was yesterday."

   "I was jealous."

   He looked a little embarrassed when he said that, and I don’t know why but it made me smile. I had to rib him a little. "Really, you were jealous, huh . . ." But then I got a funny feeling as the next thought occurred to me. "You’re not jealous anymore?"

   "No."

   "How come?"

   "I had to deal with how Kira and I feel about each other."

   I could hardly get the words out around the lump in my throat. "Oh, how’s that?"

   "I love her."

   "You what?!"

   "I love her." Just like that, so soft, so easy. In that moment, I think I had just realized how much I wanted him to say that about me. And how much it hurt that he never had. Not in words anyway. Guess I should have realized that words aren’t the most important thing. Or maybe if they were so important, I should have said so, but I didn’t.

   "She loves you, huh?"

   "Yeah."

   "She told you that?"

   "Well, not in so many words, but . . uh . . . you know what I mean, pal?" Then he reached out to touch me on the arm and that was the last straw.

   Forget it, Buddy.

   I had to get out of there. All of a sudden, it was like the walls were closing in. "Yeah well . . . Look, I’ve got some work to catch up on. I’ll hook up with you later."

   "Yeah, thanks for droppin’ by." He called out in a sincere voice, but I was already out the door.

   I really was headed to the station, but somehow I found myself in front of Kira’s house instead. I sat there for awhile wondering what the hell I was doing. I wasn’t getting any answers though, so I went it to see if I could get some answers from her.

   Instead I just got more questions . . .

   Later, when I heard the knock on the door, I knew who it was. It could have been anyone, so I don’t know how I knew, but I did. Kira went to answer it while I finished getting dressed. I heard him out there.

   "Where’s Hutch?" My stomach was one big knot. I knew I had to go out and face the music.

   Half-an-hour ago, I had convinced myself that what I was doing was okay, but now I knew how wrong it was. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. It’s hard to look at someone you care about when you know he’s hurting because of something you did.

   "Wanted to straighten things out, huh, clear up the problem?"

   "Starsky, I meant it." I looked at him then.

   "Sure you did." He brushed off Kira’s hand as he headed out the door.

   "Starsk, hey . . . hey." I caught up to him at the door and he stopped for me. "C’mon, I just came by to see how Kira feels about things, that’s all." I glanced at her, then back at him, knowing she couldn’t help with this.

   "Yeah, how does she feel? . . . huh . . . huh . . . how does she feel?".

   "C’mon . . .c’mon, Starsk . . ."

   Trying to calm him down was a bad idea. He was too pissed right then. I should have just let him go cool off first.

   It really hurt when he hit me. He’d never done that before. Not like that anyway.

   I hit him once . . . I wasn’t really mad at him, but he took it and didn’t even give me any grief about it afterwards.

   Then there was the time we were trying to build his cover and bust a vigilante group, we staged a little fight and he punched me a couple times. That didn’t feel good either, but it wasn’t like this.

   This time he was really angry. He didn’t pull the punches. He hit me with everything he had – twice. The bruises were on my stomach, but I think the real pain was in my heart.

   And I knew that I deserved anything he gave me, which is why I didn’t want to hit him back. I did push him off me, and I tried to hold his arms still. I really didn’t want him to hit me again. Kira was screaming at us to stop. He pushed me back, and I stayed where I was. Kira’s voice was ringing in my ears,

   "What are you crazy?! What’s the matter with you guys?! You’re both acting like kids!"

   ~~~~

   What did she expect, I wondered, but I was just staring at my partner. I can still see his face even now. So much anger and all of it for me. Nothing else in this world could hurt as much as that.

   But after we got out of there and he took off, the hurt changed to anger. You know how it is sometimes, when everything seems out of control and the only way to deal with it is to get mad. That’s how I felt. I know I took it out on Harvey . . . and Starsky too, but I wasn’t really angry with anyone except myself. I was the only one to blame.

Part 5
Takes place during the episode Starsky vs. Hutch after above scenes – Starsky’s POV

   I was really mad at him when I left Kira’s, but I started to calm down a little by the time I got to the dead girl’s place. Hutch wasn’t calm though. He was mad at everyone, but I know him well enough to know that when he’s really mad like that, it’s usually because he feels helpless . . . or sometimes when he feels guilty.

   And some of my anger was going away because I felt bad about hittin’ him. In fact, I couldn’t get it outta my head. I knew I’d hit him twice in the stomach, pretty hard, but I also knew that if Kira hadn’t stopped us, I probably woulda hit him again.

   He didn’t hit me back though. I kept thinkin’ about that too. He had enough of a chance, I think, if he wanted to, but I think he was just tryin’ to hold me back.

   It was bothering me all night. There was no excuse for it. I mean, Hutch hit me once, but that was ‘cause he was a little out of his head at the time. He’d just found his girlfriend dead and he was lashing out. I just happened to be the one standin’ there. But this, this was different. I mean, no matter what he did, it wasn’t right to hit him like that.

   But we finally got our act together on the case at least. We got the guy we were after, and no one else got killed. Dobey was satisfied. Not happy – he was really pissed at us – but he was glad the case was closed and that Madame B. was off his back.

   The next day, I caught up with Hutch at Huggy’s.

   Huggy . . . he’s somethin’ else sometimes. We never told him, but he says stuff sometimes . . . like that day when he asked, "Is this the beautiful blond?" I’d been talkin’ about Kira; he was talkin’ about Hutch. Other times, he uses phrases like "other half" and "lover’s quarrel." I think he probably knows.

   But anyway, we took care of things with Kira. I don’t know what we were offering exactly, or what we would have done if she had taken us up on it, but it was really just a show. It was sort of like wrapping up the rest of the case. We could do that with our eyes closed.

   But we really needed to talk. Even if our partnership wasn’t in jeopardy, everything else was on the line. I felt sort of like I was still holdin’ on to that hand grenade of Joey’s – or maybe like Hutch was – and I was waiting for the explosion to come.

   As we walked outta Huggy’s, our arms just sort of dropped of each other’s shoulders. We just stood there, not lookin’ at each other or sayin’ anything, for what seemed like a long time. I just wasn’t sure where to start.

   I was thinkin’ that we had the weekend off, and that maybe I could handcuff him, throw him in the trunk, and take him . . . aw hell, . . .I don’t even know what I’m talkin’ about. I just felt like it was urgent all of a sudden. Like when he’s in danger on the street. Like somehow I knew we didn’t have a lot of time. But Hutch was the one who spoke first.

   "I’m sorry." It was barely a whisper, but I heard him.

   "Me, too."

   Silence again. I glanced over and found him staring at me with his face all screwed up in confusion, I guess.

   "Wwhat are you . . . wwhy . . . why are you sorry?" He finally got the words out. "I’m the one who . . ."

   "I dunno," I purposely interrupted him. I didn’t want him to get going like he had to confess his sins or somethin’. He was already stuttering, which meant he felt bad enough already . . . or at least nervous. The faster we got passed this, the better. Hutch is too quick to drown in guilt.

   "Hittin’ you for one thing."

   Just for a split second, his hand went sort of automatically to his stomach and the hurt look that flashed in his eyes made me flinch. But he looked down quickly to hide it, and at the same time, shoved his hands in his pockets. Then he was pushing the toe of his shoe into the crack in the sidewalk, looking like a little kid all of a sudden. A little kid who thought he was in deep trouble. "I deserved it," he said finally, and his voice was real quiet again.

   See what I mean about the guilt. Sometimes I wish I knew what the hell his father had done to him as a kid, but I guess that’s a whole other story.

   "And I’m sorry for what got us here," I added.

   Hutch didn’t say anything, just looked a little confused.

   "Like my mom always used to say, ‘It takes two to fight.’" (She had to say that a lot ‘cause Nicky and I were always fighting.)

   "Somethin’ like this would never’ve happened a year ago." I continued. "Somewhere, somethin’ got messed up, and I figure I’m as much a part of it as you are."

   He was staring at me now, with his mouth open a little, and he was shaking his head, "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?"

   I think that was s’posed to be a compliment, but I shook my head at him, tellin’ him with my eyes that I wasn’t sure what he meant.

   "I’m the one who fucked up, and you’re trying to take the blame."

   "I’m not takin’ all of it. We’re partners. Fifty/ fifty right?"

   He shook his head again, but didn’t argue so I figured I’d take it as agreement.

   We just stood there again for awhile in silence after that.

   Finally I said, "Just me and you now, okay?" I woulda liked to say it kinda tough, ya know, like Charles Bronson or somebody, with no room for argument, but instead, it came out kinda shy.

   Those baby blues went wide and his mouth fell open even more. "Wwhat . . . dddid you say?" he managed to stammer.

   "Just you and me," I repeated in a more decisive tone this time. "No dating. No girls. Just you and me for awhile. See how it goes."

   He was still looking at me with a bit of shock, but his eyes were bright with . . .hope, maybe . . . or tears. He did look like he might cry. "Really?" he asked, like he still didn’t believe me.

   "Yeah, really. I think we deserve a chance at least, don’t you?"

   He started to shake his head, then turned it into a nod, and managed to choke out a positive response of some sort. All the while, his face was lit up like a little kid lookin’ at presents under the Christmas tree, not believing they were really for him. Man, if I’d a known it was gonna have this kinda effect, . . . I guess I shoulda said it a long time ago. But like I said before, I didn’t realize . . . 

Epilogue – Starsky’s POV

   Anyway, we went home after that. His place or mine, it doesn’t really matter. We went home, talked some more, made love, had pizza, played monopoly, made love again. We had the whole weekend. Just the two of us. And every now and then, I’d catch him lookin’ at me with his eyes lit up and that smile on his face, and I finally realized that I hadn’t seen that particular smile for a long time. I had really missed it too.

THE END