Title: Blood Test
Author: Minnie K.
Fandom: Starsky and Hutch
Rating: Gen
Summary: After weeks of overtime, and the flu, a quiet weekend seemed like a good idea. Until Starsky's past comes back to haunt the  partners, that is.

Warnings: Warnings, if any, will be posted at the very bottom.

Author's note: 

            This story has previously been published in Venice Place Times 2.

            I want to thank both Keri T. and Paula Wilshe for not only publishing it, but for being so wonderful to work with. It was a great experience, one I wouldn't have missed for anything.

            I also want to thank my editor, Barb D., for all the hard work she puts into polishing my stories. I value her talent and her judgment, and enjoy working with her. She always helps me look my best. <g>

            Any bloopers, boo-boos or outright mistakes are mine alone. Feedback can be sent to 62books@verizon.net.

Blood Test

by Minnie K.

 

Ken Hutchinson sighed tiredly, as he turned off the engine and rolled down his window to let in the cool evening breeze.  Since Starsky wasn't up in his apartment waiting for him, he could take a minute to just listen to the soft sounds of the evening.  All he needed was a few seconds to himself, to find his second wind.  Rubbing at his face, soothing his moustache and running a hand through his hair, he figured he must look as tired as he felt, which, in other words, meant he looked pretty crappy.

Been a long week.  I'm getting too old for the hours we keep.

If he had timed it right, Starsky would be ready to check out of the emergency room by the time he unpacked the groceries.  They'd need the food for the weekend, and Hutch knew as soon as he got his partner home, all Starsky would want to do is grab something to eat and hit the sack.  Heaven forbid the cabinets should be empty of Starsky's favorite snacks.

I think I spoil him.  Okay, I know I spoil him.  How did I let him get me so well trained?

He smiled at the memory of Starsky's emergency room "Camille" act.  Hutch had satisfied himself that Starsky's only injury was a bad sprain before the emergency room trip, but there was no use taking a chance with that ankle of his.  Starsky's performance in the waiting room at the hospital had confirmed to Hutch that his partner would be fine.  If Starsky had really been hurt, Hutch wouldn't have heard a grunt from him, not in public, but let him think he could get some sympathy from something minor, and he wasn't above playing it for all he was worth.  It hadn't taken long for Hutch to volunteer to do the shopping, not with Starsky fluttering those big blue eyes at him and moaning softly.

He's such a big baby.  Hutch chuckled at the memory, feeling a bit better with the sharp bite of the evening air in his face.  Can't blame him for wanting a bit of attention.  It's been a hell of a month, and having a wrenched ankle on the eve of your birthday just adds insult to injury.  Good thing we didn't have much planned.

It had been a hard month for everyone.  A nasty strain of flu had hit the city and had run like wildfire.  It was no surprise to Hutch that it had started at the station and worked its way through Parker Center quickly, not with the amount of traffic that place saw on any given day.  Hutch had come down with it last week, leaving Starsky and a few other detectives on their own.  Heaven only knew how many hours Starsky had put in at the station after that.  Hutch himself had only vague memories of his partner stopping by Venice Place to nurse, shop and clean up after him on top of everything else.  Even though Hutch had come back to work four days ago, he wasn't quite up to par.  He felt badly that Starsky was still pulling most of the weight for them both.

Just as well I did the shopping, I guess, since I'm going to be doing the cooking.  He's going to love those new recipes I found.  Nothing too good for the birthday boy, or so he believes.

Yawning and stretching, Hutch pocketed his keys and got out to unpack the trunk.  Starsky's birthday was only a few short hours away, and he wanted to mark the occasion with a cold beer.

Starsky's original lack of enthusiasm for a special celebration had been worrisome at first.  Before Hutch had even had time to make the usual party plans, Starsky had casually mentioned that he didn't want one.  Hutch was leery of the declaration.  Sometimes remarks like that were just Starsky's way of reminding you about something important to him.  After some careful prodding on Hutch's part, Starsky had finally revealed why this year was different; on this birthday, he would have out-lived his father by a whole year.

I should have known it was something like that.  He's been awful quiet for the last couple of months.  I can understand why he just wants to have a quiet celebration this year.  He still misses his dad so much.

He had been touched when Starsky had invited him over for the weekend, planning on just the two of them.  They hadn't made any solid plans, just decided to kick back, watch TV and make a large meal to mark the occasion.  He could tell Starsky wanted an audience to reminisce to about the most important man in his life, and Hutch was glad to lend an ear.  It made him feel like he was sharing a part of Starsky's childhood, getting to know his father this way.  Sometimes he wondered if the man would have approved of his son's choice of partners.

Hutch was at the top of the stairs, his arms full of grocery bags, when he felt something was wrong.  Pausing, he put the bags down quietly while keeping his senses on guard.  A faint noise from inside the "empty" apartment put him on full alert.  Taking out his gun, he walked softly up to the front door, careful to stand to the side of it.

He never said anything about having company.  It's not like him to forget to mention a houseguest!

Pressing his ear to the door hinge, he could hear the low tones of what sounded like a television commercial.  Next came the sound of a toilet flushing.

Could be Huggy, he thought as he slipped his copy of the apartment key out of his pocket.  But how would he get here without a car?

He unlocked the door softly, opening it slightly.  Listening for any movement, he pushed the door open a bit more, peeking around the edge.  Seeing no one on the couch, he turned his attention to the sounds of activity from the bathroom.

They're sure acting like they live here.

Moving inside and shutting the door softly, he walked to the kitchen and checked around the corner, gun ready.  Finding it empty, he flattened himself against the cabinets, trying to keep out of sight of the bedroom.  He could see through the bookcase that divided the rooms.  The bed seemed to be covered, but with what he couldn't make out.  As he saw the bathroom door begin to open, he ducked farther down, out of sight.  The quick glimpse he caught of the intruder surprised him.

Nick?!  Hutch felt relief, then anger flood through him.  What the hell is he doing here?!

Hutch raised his gun, making sure it was pointed to the ceiling, and stealthily made his way to the bedroom entrance.  As he came closer, it was apparent Nick had come for a prolonged stay.  There was an open suitcase on the floor, and clothing had been tossed all over the bed.  A second suitcase sat on the floor.  Nick himself was fresh from the shower, still dripping, with only a towel wrapped around his waist.  Hutch came up and paused in the entrance to the room.

"A little late in the evening for breaking and entering, isn't it, Nick?"

He had tried to keep his tone casual, but at the first word Nick swung around as if he'd been shot, eyes wide with fear.  Hutch knew he had startled him badly, but it felt good to show the kid just how close he could have come to getting his head blown off.

"Hey..."  Nick swallowed convulsively, raising his arms and giving Hutch a crooked smile in greeting.  "Hiya, Hutch.  Hell of a surprise, huh?"

Hutch watched him closely, not surprised to see a strange version of the "Starsky charm" rise quickly to the surface.  He had too many years of experience not to be able to read the emotions beneath it, and Nick clearly wasn't any happier at this meeting than he was.

"Yeah, it's a surprise all right," Hutch replied gruffly as he holstered the gun.  "How did you get in?  When did you get in town?  Why are you here?"

"Whoa!  Wait a minute."  Nick flashed him a grin and gave a careless shrug, as he turned back toward the bed.  "You think I can't come to visit my big brother just because I miss him?  Or that I don't have my own key?  I mean, we are family, you know."

Unfortunately for Starsky, Hutch thought unkindly.  "Nick, I know damn well Starsky didn't have any idea you were in town.  And I don't ever remember him saying he gave you a key."

"Oh, so you live in his pocket, do you?  Know everything he knows, take all his calls and read all his mail?"  Nick sounded amused as he continued to dig through the wads of clothing on the bed.  "And, yes, I got a key, Mr. Detective.  I got it the last time I was here."

"The point is, you could have gotten your head blown off because I didn't expect you to be here."

"Well, I didn't expect you to be here, so we're even."  Nick laughed as he said it, but Hutch could hear the annoyance behind the words.  "By the way, where is that brother of mine?  He comin' up behind you or what?"

"He's still at the hospital."  Hutch raised a hand at Nick's startled look.  "It's not serious.  He twisted an ankle a few hours ago and needed an x-ray, just to make sure it's not broken."

Nick's face fell.  "No kiddin'?  He's really okay?"

Hutch shrugged tiredly.  "As okay as he can be with that tricky ankle of his.  It's going to be pretty colorful for a while, and he'll be stuck in a desk job for a few more days, but he'll live."

Curious eyes studied him.  "So if he's there, why are you here?"

Hutch bit his tongue on the first nasty comeback that crossed his mind, knowing he was probably letting his fatigue get the better of him.  He took a breath and tried to make his reply casual.  "I'm here with groceries, because your brother put off his shopping all week.  Better than waiting on my ass in the emergency room while he spends his time charming the nurses.  He should be ready to go about now."

"Hey, that was a great idea!"  Nick nodded enthusiastically.  "I noticed we were pretty short on grub.  Why don't you bring it all up while I'm getting dressed, then you can drop me off wherever he's stashed the Torino.  You got keys to that, too, right?  Then you can go on home.  I'll swing by the hospital, and then Dave and I'll be set."

You?  Drive the Torino?!  The thought almost made Hutch smile.  Sorry, kid, I value my life more than that.

"Unfortunately, Nick, the Torino's all the way downtown at the station, and it's closer to just drive down and pick him up myself.  He should be ready to go pretty soon, so I've got to get a move on with the groceries.  If you want to stay here and unpack--"

"And miss a minute with big brother?" Nick said quickly, looking excited.  "Not likely!  Just give me a minute and I'll grab something clean while you bring the groceries in.  Guess I've been on the road too long to get any washing done."

"Great," Hutch mumbled to himself as he turned toward the front door.  "Thanks for the help."

It took several trips.  After placing the last bag of groceries on the table, he started to unpack the freezer items, listening to the noise Nick was making in the bedroom.  The slamming of drawers finally ceased, so Hutch assumed he had found something that would fit.

Whatever he's up to, it can't be good, Hutch decided, not liking the feel of this "visit."  Every time he calls, it's because he wants something.  Every piece of mail, when he bothers to send any, is asking for a big favor or cash to get him by.  When he does decide to drop in, he ends up creating problems of one sort or another.  What could he want now?  Is his showing up like this going to mess up--?

It hit him then how off-base he might be.  Starsky's birthday?

He felt sheepish at the thought.

Maybe he really is thinking of someone other than Nick for a change.  Starsk is going to be thrilled to have him here for his birthday.  After all, Nick is family.  I guess I should be prepared to be the third wheel this weekend.

Hutch paused for a moment, feeling a bit peeved at his last thought.

Can I really assume Nick is here for that?  After all, I've never heard of him calling his brother on a holiday, or sending anything but an odd note here and there.  Maybe I ought to find out what's going on before I give him too much credit.

"Hey, Nick," he yelled as he continued to put away the perishables.  "You never did say what the reason for this visit was.  Special occasion or something?"

"Nah.  Nothing special.  I needed a bit of a vacation, so, you know, I just decided to hop the first thing headin' out this way."

Typical Nick.  He doesn't have a clue, Hutch realized with growing annoyance.  You'd think he'd bother to remember his own brother's birthday, if nothing else.  Well, I'm not going to clue him in.

"You about ready?" Hutch demanded, hoping the younger man would say no.  He checked one last time to make sure the freezer items were put away.

"Ready as I'll ever be."  Nick appeared around the kitchen corner, and Hutch wasn't surprised to see him wearing one of his brother's outfits.  Nick was looking at him a bit strangely.  "I noticed Dave's got a lot of items in his bedroom that don't look like they'd fit."

"Those are probably my things," Hutch replied over his shoulder as he strode toward the door.  Nick was close behind.

"You must have an awful lot of stuff here, then."

Hutch turned to lock the door securely behind them.  "Got to put it somewhere."

Not feeling like making small talk, Hutch was grateful when it seemed Nick felt the same way.  After they settled into the car, Hutch turned on the radio.  That seemed to fulfill any obligation he had to entertain his guest.  They were ten minutes from the hospital before Nick spoke again.

 

"So, how did Davey get hurt this time?"

 

Hutch shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road.  "We were chasing down a suspect, and his foot went through some rotten boarding.  Caught his ankle, tripped him up and scratched him a bit.  Knowing Starsky, I'm sure there's an exciting story in there somewhere."

 

"I'll bet."  Nick chuckled.  "I guess at a time like this, he's gonna be sorry he doesn't have some great-looking lady at home to take care of him.  I mean, if you're gonna get hurt, might as well have a pretty thing around to take care of you.  I was surprised to find he was still livin' by his lonesome."

"Guess he values his privacy," Hutch replied casually, uncomfortable with the subject.

"It's just as well, I guess.  I'd hate to feel like I was intruding."

 

And you're not intruding now?

Nick continued when Hutch didn't reply.  "I'll bet he doesn't stay lonely long, though, with the natural Starsky family charm being what it is."  He slugged Hutch playfully on the shoulder.  "I'll bet my big brother has at least two or three ladies at his beck 'n call right this minute.  Am I right, or am I right?"

"You'd have to ask him.  I'm not in charge of his love life, you know."

Nick was quiet for a few minutes, then started to hum the tune on the radio.  Hutch didn't say anything when he turned it up, glad for the distraction.

What's the matter, kid?  Afraid your brother is more a ladies' man than you are?  You--the family legend for shacking up with any well-heeled lady who'll have you--are worried your brother is more of a gigolo than you are?

Nick would probably be surprised if he realized how much of his life Hutch knew about.  The "Starsky charm" was one thing, but it had always bothered Starsky to hear Nick brag about living off women.  Hutch knew Starsky walked a fine line between communicating his discomfort to Nick and needing to keep the lines of communication open, so Nick never got the dressing down from his brother Hutch thought he richly deserved.  Since the beginning, Hutch was a sounding board for his partner's frustrations and disappointments, many of which included, or were caused by, Nick.

You two were cut from a totally different cloth, kiddo.  When your brother moves in with a lady, it's going to be for forever, and he's going to pull his own weight in any relationship.  If you want to rack up points, you're going about it the wrong way.  If you want to impress him, you better get to know what earns his respect.

Finally arriving at the hospital, he parked the car in the visitors' lot and turned off the motor.  He got out and headed for the emergency entrance, trusting Nick to catch up on his own.

 

Nick wasn't far behind as he entered into the bright hustle and bustle of the emergency room.  Hutch was glad he could flash his badge and go on through, the nurses already knowing who he was there for.  Pausing just outside the swinging doors that led to the examination rooms, he turned to Nick.  "Let me go in first, make sure he's decent."

 

Nick gave him an odd look, but nodded in agreement.

 

Pushing through the doors, Hutch strode down past many examining tables.  All of them full, most curtained off from casual view.

 

So, how do I break the happy news?  Wish I could share in the thrill.  He plastered a smile on his face, ready to appear as happy as he knew Starsky would be.  Face it, Nick isn't really that bad.

In the past, they had managed to get along pretty well.  Nick could be a charmer when he wanted to be, and even when he made trouble for his brother, it hadn't happened out of meanness or spite.  They had even had some good times the last time Nick had visited, having parted with smiles and handshakes.

All he's done is arrive at a time when I'm tired, out of patience and still not quite up to snuff.  Not quite fair, is it?

 

When he came upon the last table, he found Starsky lying on an examination bed, missing one shoe.  The ankle in question had been taped up and looked ready to go.  Hutch smiled at the patient, wondering if he looked as beat as Starsky did.  The month's strain showed in the paleness of Starsky's face and the darkening circles under his eyes.

 

"So, I see the x-rays came out okay."  He reached out and put his hand on Starsky's knee, giving it a quick squeeze.

 

"Yeah," Starsky answered tiredly, flashing him a smile and moving to sit upright.  "It's just really sprained.  The doctor said the usual stuff 'bout takin' care of it."

 

"What about the scrapes and splinters?"

 

Starsky shrugged.  "Just a couple of scratches they put some ointment on, although it tore up a good sock.  Told you it wasn't bad enough for all this.  We could'a done all this at home."

 

"Yeah, well, I didn't hear you arguing very hard with Dobey when he ordered you here.  Besides, you know he'll want the doctor's report on his desk on Monday.  Administration likes to have proof that you're really as accident prone as you claim to be."

 

"Well, guess I'd better cooperate then, since they're payin' the bills."  Starsky slid off the table and balanced on his good foot.  "The doctor says I don't need crutches, so I won't be totally off my feet for the whole weekend.  Which reminds me, you get the groceries?"

 

"No, I've been out cruising the bars, looking for a prettier date for the evening.  Of course, I got the groceries."  Hutch put on a worried look.  "And you'll never guess what kind of nasty, hairy thing I found wallowing around in your place."  He watched with concealed amusement as Starsky's eyes widened with concern.

 

"Hutch, don't you dare tell me you saw a rat or somethin' in there, 'cause I know I don't have any rats!  My place hasn't gotten that dirty!"

 

"Well, not rats, exactly.  It was worse than that," Hutch whispered, leaning close and wrinkling his nose as if about to reveal something disgusting.  "You've got to see what I found."  While Starsky was watching him worriedly, Hutch took a few steps and waved Nick in.  "You really ought to fumigate more often."

 

Hutch kept his face blank and held his breath as Nick came around the corner of the cloth drapes, all smiles and open arms.  His heart lurched to see the sudden flood of joy that began in Starsky's eyes and spread through his whole body, as if he'd been hit by lightening.  There wasn't a person in the world who could have doubted just how thrilled Starsky was to see his brother.  That smile alone was worth paying dearly for. 

 

"NICKY!" Starsky bellowed, his arms wrapped around his brother a fraction of a second later.  "This is great!  I can't believe it!"  The brother's exchanged a long bear hug and back thumps until Starsky pulled away enough to look Nick in the face, delight animating his once tired features.  "Where the hell did you come from?"  Before Nick could say anything, Hutch could see the dawning hope take over Starsky's face.  "Don't tell me you came all this way for tomorrow?"

 

Anger flared through Hutch at the blank look that took over Nick's face.

"For your birthday?" Hutch interjected quickly, before Nick could break the spell.  "Why else would the kid come all the way out here?"

 

"Y-yeah!  Sure!"  Nick flashed Hutch a questioning look before turning and smiling toothily at his brother.  "For your birthday!  Wouldn't miss it for the world.  Figured it was about time we got together for one of those."

 

"Ain't that the truth?!"  Starsky gave his brother another bear hug, then pushed back once again, hands gripping Nick's shoulders.  "You walk me to the car, and Hutch here'll sign me out.  He's got my signature down pat.  In fact, I'm not sure the hospital can keep the two of us straight anymore.  Oh," he added, giving Hutch a quick glance.  "Don't forget my shoe.  We're goin' home!"

Hutch watched as the two brothers seemed to support each other all the way down to the exit, Starsky talking excitedly all the while.

 

Sighing to himself as he bent to pick up the bag with the unneeded shoe, Hutch felt a trace of jealousy creep up his gut.

 

He's happy, Nick's happy.  Get over it, he admonished himself sternly.  He deserves to be with loved ones.  Family is everything to him, and it's about time he had some around when he's celebrating.

 

Bag clutched tightly in hand, Hutch headed for the nurses' station, doing his best to ignore the small, disgruntled voice inside that wished Nick had never come.
           
Keeping his concentration on the road, Hutch stayed out of the animated conversation between the two men stuffed into the seat beside him.  Usually amused at the speed with which Starsky could revert back to a thick New York accent when his brother was around, Hutch found himself growing annoyed by it.  By the time he pulled into the driveway, the brothers had gotten down to using some sort of family shorthand that he was no longer able to follow. 

 

"All out," he announced loudly after throwing the car into park.  The two men beside him were laughing and didn't seem to realize where they were.  Opening the front door, he watched as the two men maneuvered themselves out of the LTD, Nick helping Starsky slide out and get his balance.  With arms around each other and grins on their faces, they never even looked up at him as they made their way up the stairs.

 

Neither one of them are paying enough attention to be careful.  If he falls down those stairs, or twists his ankle again...  The sight began to eat a hole in him somewhere, however small, yet at the same time, he was happy to see it.  He's enjoying this so much.

 

Hutch stood back to let the others enter ahead of him.  Once inside, he locked the door and headed for the kitchen, needing to do something physical.  There were groceries to be put away and dinner to fix.  Starting in on the groceries, he found his attention drifting to the brothers as they talked.

 

"Nicky!  What the hell did you do?  Did ya bring a landfill in with you?" Starsky exclaimed in what sounded like a strange mixture of frustration and amusement, as he stood and surveyed the bedroom.

 

"Who, me?  Hey, no way!  This place was a pig's sty before I got here.  I just made myself at home."

 

Starsky laughed, giving his brother a playful push away from him, hobbling into the bathroom.  "I'll bet you did.  How much laundry did you bring?"

 

"All of it.  Ma's place just happens to be too far away at the moment."

 

"You tell me you leave Ma's place like this when you visit her, and I'll take it out of your hide!  Better get started on that mess, youngster, and don't think I don't recognize the outfit you just happen to have on."  The bathroom door closed firmly behind him.

 

Turning his attention back to his task, Hutch tried to decide what to fix for dinner.  His energy seemed completely gone now, and nothing looked good anymore.  He hadn't counted on feeding three of them.

 

"Hey, Hutch, I guess I owe you one," Nick said quietly as he walked into the kitchen, hands in his pockets, eyes guarded.  "Can you imagine I'd momentarily forgotten his birthday?  Must've been all the excitement that caused it to slip my mind."

 

"It would be kind of hard to forget, if that's why you made the trip."  Hutch shrugged tiredly.  "Birthdays are pretty regular things around here, you know.  They come around every year, just like clockwork."

 

"Yeah, guess they do at that."

 

There was an uncomfortable silence as Hutch continued to put things away.  Deciding soup and cold-cuts would have to do, he started to set everything out, pouring the cans of soup into the pan on the stove.

 

"You don't have to stay, Hutch.  I can take over from here."

In other words, you want me to get lost.

 

Hutch didn't say anything for a moment, but continued to set fixings out on the table.  "Afraid you're stuck with me for the duration."  He gave Nick his own well practiced--if fake--smile.  "Starsk and I had plans for the weekend, and, as far as I'm concerned, they're still on."

 

Nick nodded, looking as if he was mulling it over.  "Yeah, sure.  No problem.  So, you sure we couldn't just go out for some food, or call some in?  You know, make it a special occasion?"

 

A little bit late for that, Hutch thought, growing more annoyed by the minute.  "It's been a long day for us, Nick.  If I know your brother, he's halfway to starvation as it is.  Might as well eat here and keep him from wasting away to skin and bones."

 

"Damn right," Starsky's amused voice came from the front room.  "At this point, I'd even eat Hutch's cooking."

 

"Well, then you lucked out," Hutch replied with a real smile this time.  "Tonight it's all canned, filled with preservatives.  Not a real drop of nutrition in any of this, except for the lettuce and tomatoes, so I'm not even going to pretend I had anything to do with it.  But I haven't gotten them cut up yet, so--"

"Hey, no problem!" Nick announced enthusiastically.  "Anything I can do to help out?"

 

As Nick turned to the refrigerator with a lot more enthusiasm for the meal than he'd had a moment ago, Hutch watched Starsky's eyes follow his brother.  Affection softened the tired features.

"Thanks, Nicky, but you don't have to do that.  You're a guest in my house."

 

"Hey!  For my big brother..."  Nick's smile as he carried the produce over to the sink was brilliant, "…anything goes.  What else is family for?"

 

Which obviously doesn't include me, right? Hutch thought, annoyed.

A few minutes passed as the three of them got the table ready.  It didn't take long for the soup to heat up, but to Hutch it seemed like forever.  Before long they were ready, and Starsky was settling into his usual spot.

 

"What a surprise, huh, Hutch?  My kid brother comes all the way out here to be with me on my birthday.  Couldn't have planned a better present for the occasion."

 

Hutch didn't say anything, as he sat down and began ladling out the soup.

 

"Huh," Nick grunted from the sink as he cut up the last of the tomatoes.  "You think my coming here is somethin' special?  You just wait 'til I give you the news."

News?  Why doesn't this sound good?

 

"Oh, yeah?"  Starsky's eyes went wide, his face suddenly neutral.  "Somethin' goin' on I should know about?  Gotta be good news, right?"

 

Nick walked toward the table with the lettuce and tomato slices, a self-satisfied grin on his face.  "The best news there is!  I'm movin' out here!  How d'ya like that?"

 

At that moment, Hutch felt as if he couldn't have heard right, his whole body feeling frozen in time.

Moving here?  To stay?  He could feel the hairs on his neck stand on end.  He can't be!

 

"For keeps?" Starsky asked, pleased astonishment on his face.  "You mean it?  Really?"

 

"Sure, I mean it!  Would I say somethin' like that if I didn't mean it?"

 

"You're not running from something, are you?" Hutch asked suspiciously. 

 

"Hutch!" Starsky hissed at him before returning his attention back to his brother.  "Nicky, that's great news!"  His voice went soft , the look in his eyes growing concerned as he studied his brother.  "But what about Ma?  That's gonna leave her all by herself, isn't it?"

 

Nick sighed as he sat down and helped himself to the soup and sandwich fixings.  "Look, Dave, I love Ma and all, don't get me wrong, but I don't plan my life around her, if you know what I mean.  If I need a change of pace, a new start, then I gotta go where I gotta go."  He held up both hands then, seeing the same careful, neutral mask on Starsky's face Hutch did.  "C'mon!  You and I both know Ma's got family comin' out the ears back there.  Between the Starskys and the Waldmans we've practically got enough relatives to make a whole city.  She's got lots of company."

 

"But that isn't the same as having your kids with you, you know.  She's already lost--"

 

"So, you move back there then."  Nick took a mouthful of sandwich and continued to talk around it.  "Look, you're always tryin' to get her to move out here, aren't ya?  Better for her arthritis and all.  With both of us here, maybe we can convince her of it."

 

Starsky looked thoughtful, playing with his soup spoon.  A small smile grew at the corners of his mouth.  "Yeah, guess you're right.  She gets out here for a visit, we don't hafta let her go back."

 

Hutch watched as the smile grew and the delight at the news returned to Starsky's face.  It was only then that Starsky started to eat his meal, and Hutch realized he hadn't touched his own yet.  Finding his appetite missing, he pushed his plate away.

 

"So, what are you going to do out here?  And when are you movin'?"

 

"That's why I came to you, 'cause I'm gonna need some help gettin' out here."

 

Why am I not surprised? Hutch thought sourly.  He gave up on eating and sat back in his chair, arms crossed.

 

"Sure, you got it," Starsky answered quickly.  "What kinda help?

 

"Well, first off, you think Uncle Al would let me come and work for him?  I know I'm not his favorite nephew or anything, but I'm willing to start at the bottom at the used car lot."

 

"You sure?" Starsky asked with surprise, smiling at Nick's nod.  "He's gonna be thrilled!  You know, I worked at his lot during high school.  He was really disappointed when I didn't go back after the army.  He's always hinting he'd love for me to take over one day.  He's gonna be ecstatic to hear about you wantin' in."

 

"Great!  Now all I gotta do is find a place to stay."

Here it comes…

 

"No, you don't," Starsky answered quickly.  Hutch tried not to wince.  "You stay here, with me, until we can get you settled."

 

No foolin'? Hutch thought sarcastically toward the younger man.  Of course, he wants you to stay.  What other answer did you expect?  Nick was beaming now, and Hutch caught the flicker of a self-satisfied glance thrown his way.

"Dave, that's fantastic!  It'll be like old times again.  You 'n me under one roof, just like when we were kids.  Really gettin' to know each other again."

 

And I'm getting a headache.  Hutch got up to clean what he could while the two brothers talked and ate.  I may be invisible, but at least I can be useful.

 

Finishing quickly, Hutch grabbed a beer and settled on the couch, listening in on the brothers' plans.  Nick had already broken most of his ties to New York, and what little he had, had either been sold, stored, or was in his suitcases.

They then debated the best way to tell their mother of the move.  Hutch could hear the disapproval in Starsky's voice at the fact that Nick hadn't even bothered to discuss the situation with her before he left.  Starsky pushed Nick to tell her tomorrow, when she was sure to call, but Nick was set against it.  He wanted to wait until he had a job and an apartment, before breaking the news.  Starsky let the matter drop, and Hutch knew he would let Nick handle it the way he wanted.

 

Then it was time to catch up on the family gossip, Nick volunteering to finish the clean-up, while insisting his brother rest his ankle in the living room.

 

Hutch didn't move as Starsky limped to join him, beer in hand.

"You didn't eat much," Starsky said quietly, too low for Nick to hear.

 

"Wasn't as hungry as I thought I was."  He turned to look at Starsky's face as he settled into the couch.  "Been a hell of a week."

 

"But gettin' better."  Starsky grinned and held up his beer as if in a toast. 

 

Hutch met Starsky's bottle with his own, the clink of the bottles sounding flat to his ears.

 

"Look, Starsk," he began just as quietly after they had each taken a sip.  "It's late, and we're all tired.  Maybe I'd better head on home and--"

 

"Hey, you wouldn't bug out on me now, would ya?  Nicky's got more energy than both of us put together.  He'll probably have me talked out of my car by morning if I don't have someone to protect me.  You gotta stay."  Starsky nodded as he took another drink, looking as if the matter were settled.

"You sure?"

 

Starsky only rolled his eyes at the question.

Nick came in and settled in the armchair, beer in hand, and feet on the coffee table.

 

"So, what do we do now?  You guys wanna go out and hit some discos?  Catch a movie?  Check out some bars?"

Hutch chorused his partner's groan at the suggestions. 

 

"Nicky, it's late, and I don't think my bodyguard here will let me out for the evening with this ankle."

 

"Damn right," Hutch said, knowing his cue when he heard it.

 

"Aw, c'mon, guys!  It's not even midnight yet.  I'm not used to going to bed this early!"

 

Hutch winced at the childlike frustration in Nick's voice.  It was going to get really annoying if he kept that up all evening.

 

"Better get used to it then, if you're lookin' to work with Uncle Al.  He's one of those weird people…"  Starsky reached a hand over to poke Hutch in the ribs, which Hutch deflected with a swat.  "…who gets up at sunrise and think that's a good thing.  I'd say you'd better learn to adjust your schedule, and tonight's as good a time as any."

"You know, Dave," Nick replied sadly after a gulp of his beer.  "You're too young to be this old."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hutch saw Starsky's face fall almost imperceptibly at the dig.

"Hey, give us a break," Hutch said tiredly.  "It's just been a bad month, okay?  You want to go out, why not go?  Use my car if you want."

Nick laughed at the suggestion, but Hutch could see Starsky glance at him strangely.

"Uh...think I'll pass on that, Hutch.  Thanks, but just between us, I'd have a better chance with the chicks if I took the bus."

Hutch tried to smile good-naturedly at the rib, as Starsky and Nick broke out laughing at the remark.  He took a sip of his beer, emptying it, and waited for the hilarity to die down before getting up and heading for the kitchen.

 

"You two clowns ready for another?"

 

"Not for me."  Starsky turned on the couch, and Hutch could see he was putting up his foot in the spot Hutch had just vacated.  "But I'm going to need some ice for this ankle, though."

 

"Sure!  Ice coming up."  Cursing himself silently, Hutch realized he'd been so concerned with Nick and his news that he had forgotten about the injury.

I should have had gotten him some ice before this!  He may like to milk a sprained ankle for attention around me, but with Nick here he's gonna be Mr. Macho all weekend.

As he filled a plastic baggie with ice and grabbed the pill bottle out of the sack, he realized it made him feel a little better, knowing Starsky felt freer around him than with Nick.

He doesn't have to prove anything to me.  I guess that says something about us.

Carrying the items back to the couch, he handed over the pills.  He helped Starsky position the ice on his ankle as they talked, and wondered at the sheer numbers that comprised their family tree.  The Starsky branch alone was beyond Hutch's ability to memorize, yet Nick seemed to know all of them intimately.  He was sure Nicholas Starsky would be able to keep them "entertained" for hours, so he settled himself down on the floor, back against the couch by Starsky's feet.  He closed his eyes and tried to keep up with the vast amount of names and intricate relationships.  Before long, Hutch felt himself drifting off, welcoming the escape.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Dave Starsky laughed at his brother's story, joy mingling with a little melancholy at the tale of the wedding day travails of a distant cousin.  It had apparently been one of those cases of massive miscommunication that left those in attendance in stitches and, hopefully, was a day the married couple would learn to remember with humor.  At least, he hoped so. 

 

Oh, if only I'd been there to see it!  He leaned back on the couch and rubbed at tired eyes.  It's been forever since I've been back, and when I do go, it's never enough time to really catch up.  He stretched as well as he could, his bad ankle still throbbing a bit.  The ice had melted a while ago, but he didn't feel it was worth bothering Nick for more. 

 

Hutch had drifted off to sleep early on, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch at Starsky's feet.  With Hutch's head lying on the same pillow his foot was on, it didn't seem possible the blond could have been comfortable enough to doze off.  But then again, they'd managed to sleep in stranger places.

 

This'll be a good story to tell him later, when we're on one of those eternal stake-outs.  He smiled at the thought and turned his attention back to Nick, who was leaning back in the armchair, eyes closed and a smile on his face.

 

"You should'a been there, big brother," Nick said quietly.  "There were quite a few who were asking about you, you know."

 

"Really?  I'm surprised any of them even remember me."

 

"Sure they do!  Everyone hears about you once in a while through the papers, even if they are the California ones, and Ma has to wave them in front of their faces."  They both laughed.  "There probably aren't too many Starskys in California, so you kinda stand out."

 

Starsky chuckled.  "Yeah, I've noticed.  I guess on my next visit back there, I'll have to make a better effort to touch base with more of them."

 

"You really ought to take a lot of time off and come back for more than a few days at a time.  Might even find you'll want to stay."

"Wish I had a job where I could take off like that.  But I'm really glad you're moving here, Nicky."  Starsky gave his brother a fond grin and practically drank in the pleased smile he got in return.  "I've missed you.  Wished you'd come out here more often."

 

"Yeah, well, you know me.  I'm always busy, always got some deal in the works.  It'll be nice to start someplace fresh, someplace where my reputation..."  Nick winked at him. "…small as it is, doesn't precede me."

 

Starsky found himself chuckling.  He closed his eyes, just content to sit and relax in the shared moment.

 

It didn't last long, however, as a sudden snort echoed throughout the quiet apartment.  He knew before opening his eyes that if he didn't get his partner straightened out soon, the snoring could go on all night.

 

Damn.  Should've gotten him tucked in before he crashed.  Guess I'd better hit the hay myself, before I get too fuzzy to move.  He turned to say something to Nick, but was stopped short by the look on his brother's face.  For a fraction of a second, disappearing before he could be sure, there seemed to be an angry stranger sitting in there.  He closed his eyes again, not sure he wasn't seeing things.

He's probably beat, too.  We all are.  Better get everyone tucked in for the night.

 

"Well, I've got to hit the hay, little brother.  You know where the sheets are for the couch, right?"  He leaned over to grab Hutch's shoulder for a shake.  "Hopefully, this big lummox can get to the bed under his own power, 'cause I can't get him there.  Not with this ankle."

"What is this?" Nick asked, looking amused, arms outstretched in entreaty.  "I'm your own flesh and blood, and you're sticking me on the couch?"

 

Starsky shook Hutch harder, trying not to grimace as his ankle throbbed at the movement.  "Bet your bottom dollar, kiddo.  You're there until I can borrow a roll-away from Huggy.  You know the rule; guests get the couch in my house."

"Hutch is a guest, too," Nick said, making Starsky wince slightly at how whiny it sounded.  "But he gets to share?"

 

"I've shared with him lots'a times, Nicky.  Him I know I can sleep with, and tonight I gotta sleep."  He watched as Hutch blinked bleary and bloodshot eyes in confusion.  "C'mon, Blondie.  Time to hit it."

Before steering the almost comatose Hutchinson toward the bedroom, and trying to get himself there without twisting anything, he had waved Nick into the bathroom ahead of them.  He sat Hutch on the edge of the bed, then giving it up for lost, tossed armfuls of Nick's mess into the corner.  They'd have to get things straightened out in the morning.  Once the bed was uncovered, it only took a minimum of coaching to get the tall blond to strip to boxers and tuck himself in.  Hutch was back to deep, even breathing almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Starsky sat on the edge of his usual side, preferring to be closest to the bathroom, and started pulling his jeans carefully down past his ankle.  He found himself listening with half an ear to Nick's bathroom progress, while debating with himself over propping the ankle up with or without a bag of ice.  He decided not to bother with the ice, but take some more aspirin instead. 

 

Listening to the noises from the bathroom, he felt a little sorry for putting Nick on the couch.  The truth was, even if Hutch hadn't been staying the night he'd have insisted on sleeping in the bed.  He loved Nick, but it would have been too much like having a stranger next to him, and he wouldn't have been able to drift off.  As it was, he and Hutch had given up on couch sleeping a while ago, and were no strangers to shared sleeping spaces at home or on the job.  When it came to job related injuries, they had almost developed a sixth sense about not bumping each other's sore spots during the night.

He examined his bruised and swollen ankle, feeling all kinds of a fool.  We're getting too old for this.

He had hit the rotten flooring at a full run, falling flat on his face almost before he could bring his arms up, his gun flying away at the impact.  It had been such an unexpected shock that he actually thought he had broken it.  What had really scared him was to see Hutch fly on by him, knowing if anything went wrong he was not only stuck and helpless to help Hutch, but a sitting duck to boot.

I've got to be more careful.  Even if it means we start losing the perps.  It'd be better to lose a few of them than one of us.  Ain't so many of us left anymore.  Being a good guy don't pay as well as other, saner jobs.

He lay back on his side of the bed and closed his eyes, relaxing until his turn to hit the bathroom.  Opening one eye to check the time, the clock read 1:45.

Well, happy birthday to me, he thought cheerfully.  Looks like I actually made it, Dad.  Who would've thought?  Of course, I am a handsome and talented guy, not to mention the best cop on the force.

As if in reply, his bed partner snorted and shifted slightly.

Okay, I'll admit it; he ain't bad either.  He felt his mood grow a bit more serious.  He's been one hell of a partner and a friend, Dad.  Couldn't ask for better.  To tell the truth, he's the reason I'm still alive.  Probably the reason I may even get to be old and gray.

He jumped at a sudden crash from the bathroom, sitting up in concern.

"It's nothing!" Nick's voice came from behind the door.  "Just dropped somethin'."

"Better make sure you clean that up!" he yelled back.  He leaned back again and sighed tiredly.

But, Dad, if I get a head full of gray hairs in the next few years, I have a feeling it's gonna be Nicky's fault!  Guess I'll need to keep a big brother's eye out for the kid.

He smiled to himself.

Be just like old times, won't it?

~*~*~*~*~

Hutch drifted out of sleep, warm, relaxed and comfortable in the darkness, but with the strong feeling that something wasn't quite right.  He waited a few moments before opening his eyes slightly, still relaxed, fuzzy and limb-heavy.  He knew where he was, had recognized the room and the bed before he had even come anywhere near consciousness.  Starsky's apartment.  Starsky's bed.  His second home.  It also didn't take much to realize Starsky was there as well, the warm, familiar bulk at his side undeniable.

But there was still a nagging feeling that something was amiss, although not dangerously so.  No reason to have to bolt to wakefulness.  Not just yet, anyway.

He focused on the noises in the darkness and could tell it was still a few hours until dawn.  There was the normal noise from the heater vent, the hum of the refrigerator, and Starsky's soft breathing.  He himself was on his back, as relaxed as warm pudding.  It took him a moment to make out the ceiling.  Nothing looked wrong up there.

Suddenly, there was a slight movement that drew his eyes to the room's divider.  The bookcase separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, looking as it always did in the dark.  A small sound drew his eyes to the area next to the bookcase, not quite in the bedroom itself.

Hutch froze for a long second before memory kicked in and the stranger was identified.  He didn't move, but lay quiet, as if still asleep.  He didn't want Nick to know he was awake.

It was strange the way Nick just stood there in the darkness, with only the vague glow from Starsky's clock to outline him.  It was then Hutch realized that he and Starsky would be outlined even better to dark-accustomed eyes, because of their nearness to the only light source in the apartment.

This is no hunt for the bathroom, or being lost in a strange area.  He's watching us.

It sounded, well, strange, even to himself.  Keeping his eyes closed to mere slits and his muscles relaxed, he wondered if Nick had seen him move, then decided he hadn't.  A person caught watching people as they slept would try to make excuses, would say something or move away.

What are you looking for?  What do you see?  What did you expect?

Still no movement from the other, but Hutch could almost make out the features now.  Nick looked somehow…

Harsher.  Older, he decided.

Dangerous.  Jealous?

Whatever the man's emotional state, Hutch found himself growing angry, and felt just a bit…superior?

Don't like me, do you, kid?  Wish I wasn't here?  Too fuckin' bad, ain't it?

Hutch wondered if he would see this differently in the morning, questioning if his own feelings for Nick were growing stale for no good reason other than his own insecurities.  They'd been cool, even friendly, with each other before.  Had seemed to tolerate each other well.  But that was when Nick was only a flash in the pan, no longer than a few whirl-wind days before he'd disappear again.  Things had changed now, hadn't they?

It was all he could do to keep his features blank, feeling an evil grin creep to the surface.  Maybe he could push a bit, see the reaction.

He sighed deeply and, ever so slowly, turned to his side to face his sleeping partner.  Making his movements seem as if he were still deeply asleep, he moved closer to Starsky, the arm he let fall in front of him coming to rest against his partner's arm, his head sliding down close to mussed curls, knee moving to nudge a leg until they were pressed close.

It was a position he'd woken up in before, although Starsky was usually the one who could be found anywhere on the bed by morning.  That included snuggled up to, or even on, his bedmate, no matter who it was.  Starsky was as passionate a sleeper as he was about anything else in his life, and Hutch had gotten used to waking up feeling anywhere from alone in the bed to smothered.

Hutch watched Nick as he moved, but could only see him out of the corner of his eye.  He did, however, feel the change of atmosphere in the room almost immediately.  What had felt dark and suspicious seemed to turn angry and cold.

Nick grunted in what sounded like anger, disgust, or both, then turned and moved into the front room, out of Hutch's sight.  The rustling of the sheets on the couch, and what sounded like a body hitting the springs too hard, told him Nick had given up his watch for the night.

Hutch knew things between him and Nick were going to get worse before they got better.  If he let them.  A part of him felt confident he would win out no matter what game Nick was playing, but another part of him was afraid.  He was too tired to dwell on it, so he buried himself deeper under the covers, moving just a bit closer to his friend.

He's family.  You're not, a small voice cautioned as he let himself drift.  You might not like what happens if you start--or allow him to push you into--a competition.

Put Starsky in the middle…

            …make him choose…

            …he'll be the one that loses…

            …and gets hurt…

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky swam toward consciousness reluctantly, not nearly ready to face a new day.  But there was something different about this morning, something good, if his nose could be trusted.  He allowed himself a moment to catalog the scents before he decided whether or not to slip back into sleep.

Hmmm…smells wonderful.  His nose twitched as his stomach let him know in no uncertain terms that it was interested.  Is that…waffles?  Coffee?

Without opening his eyes, he adjusted to the real world slowly.  The wonderful smells made his mouth water, even as he realized there was someone standing next to his bed.

"Rise and shine, old man!  If you don't want this cholesterol-laden plate, I'm going to have to toss it down the disposal, or give it to Nick!"

One bleary, sticky eye opened to discover Hutch was holding what he had hoped he was--a breakfast tray!  Wiping blearily at his face, Starsky, struggled to sit up before the whole scene turned into some sort of mirage.

"How long've you been up?" Starsky asked thickly, his stomach now growling at the delightful aromas from the tray Hutch was placing before him.  His eyes widened at the amount and diversity of food on the tray.  There were eggs, sausage and hash browns, along with a bowl of strawberries and bananas, and a whole plate of blueberry waffles.  Coffee and orange juice took up either sides of the tray.  "You didn't have to do this!"

"Oh, I didn't?" Hutch replied with a surprised look on his face.  "Well, thank goodness!"  He reached for the tray.  "You might have wanted to make it an annual event or--"

"No!"  Starsky hunched protectively over his tray.  "You're right; it's required.  You hafta do this every year.  New rule."

"Was afraid of that," Hutch admitted with a laugh.  "Here, let me get my coffee, and I'll bring the syrup with me."

As Hutch headed back toward the kitchen, Starsky realized he could hear snoring from the other room.

Well, I'm not the only one sleepin' late this morning.  He eyed his plate appreciatively as he found the silverware.  And I can't believe I slept through all this cooking!

It didn't take him long to dig in.  Hutch came in with his coffee and the syrup, depositing the latter on the nightstand.  He then stretched out on the bed, propping himself against the headboard, without spilling a single drop.  As Hutch sipped, Starsky ate, marveling at how wonderful the food was.

Finally, stuffed to the gills, Starsky gave a loud, satisfied sigh as he sat back into the pillows behind him, bringing his coffee with him.  He wasn't surprised to find it doped up with sugar and cream, just how he liked it.

"This was great, Hutch.  Thanks."  He kept his voice low, although sincere, not wanting to have to deal with Nick just yet.

Hutch nodded then, putting his empty cup on the other nightstand, stretching out on the bed, hands behind his head.  "I felt kind of bad, you not wanting a party or anything.  I figured I'd give you breakfast in bed, maybe cook that pot roast you like for dinner, unless you want to go out.  Although…"  Hutch nodded toward the front room, where Nick could still be heard snoring softly.  "I didn't plan on three of us."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure it'll be fine."  Starsky grinned at his partner, feeling happier than he had in a long time.  "You know, I can't believe he came all the way out here for my birthday, to give me such great news!  I kinda worry about keepin' it from Ma, though."  He glanced at the clock.  It was actually only about 8:00.  He knew his mother wouldn't call until evening.  "I really wish he'd already told her about his plans.  I'm kinda worried how she's gonna take it."

Hutch shrugged lazily.  "He may be right, you know.  This may be just the thing to get your mother to move out here.  I know you've been working on her for years now."

"Yeah, I have.  But I wanted her to come out here 'cause it'd be best for her, not because she feels abandoned."

"Nothing you can do about it now, babe."  Hutch's eyes were sympathetic.  Starsky knew he, too, would have loved to have more family in the area.

In order to distract himself, he moved his ankle experimentally.  It was stiff and sore, but workable.  The scratches hurt, though.  Sighing, he figured it was time to get up and start the day, although his stomach would be happy if he got a few more hours of sleep.  He glanced at Hutch and nodded toward the front room.

"Guess we'd better wake him up.  If I know Nicky, he'll sleep 'til at least one.  He's not exactly a morning person."

"You're really happy he's moving here, huh?"

"'Course I am."  Starsky watched his friend's features grow serious.  He knew there was something worrying Hutch, and he was afraid it had to do with Nick.  "What's goin' on in that fluffy head of yours, anyway?"

"Fluffy?"  Blue, incredulous eyes turned toward him, eyebrows climbing up to the blond hairline.

"Fluffy," Starsky insisted, reaching over to tousle the carefully combed blond strands.  He wasn't surprised to have his hand slapped away, and was happy with the snort of amusement he got in return."

"After that breakfast, you insult me?  Guess I'll just leave you the mess then."

"Sure, you do that," Starsky said, not believing it for a second.  "But you didn't answer my question."

Both men froze as Nick's snoring stopped and he started tossing around.

"You'd better hit the shower now if you don't want to wait."  Hutch gave a stretch and rolled off the bed.  "I'll take the tray back in.  Your ankle okay?"

Starsky lifted the tray as his partner leaned over for it.  "I'm fine, although I'm still gonna look funny limping around the house."

He got up and made his careful way to the head of the couch as Hutch disappeared into the kitchen.  He leaned down to get closer to his brother's ear.  "UP and AT 'EM, kiddo!"  He laughed as Nick jerked upright.  Hopping quickly to the bathroom, he had barely gotten the door closed before the couch pillow hit it with full force.

"Get used to it, kid!" he yelled through the door.  "If you think this is early, you're in for a rude awakening!"

"Yeah?  Well I think I just got one!"

Starsky laughed with delight as he started the shower running, but as he waited for the spray to warm up, he found his mind wandering back to his partner.

Didn't answer my question, did you, Hutch?

~*~*~*~*~

Hutch rinsed off the dishes carefully before placing them in the soapy dishwater.  He'd been listening to the exchange between the two brothers and had smiled at the way Nick had been roused out of sleep.

"Hey, where's the food?"  The disheveled and heavily whiskered younger Starsky came wandering into the kitchen, looking around in confusion.  "The smell's about to kill me!  I'm starvin'!"

"Sorry, kid."  Hutch tried to keep his voice light.  "That was your brother's batch.  I only made enough for him, but there's sausage and eggs in the ice box, and some batter left over.  I just washed the skillets, so you're ready to go."

"Hey, what's this?  Leaving out the guest?  Well, now I'm wounded!"

"Sorry."  Hutch continued with his wash up.  "I only cooked that guaranteed heart attack for his birthday.  I'm more of a granola man, myself.  And…"  He turned then to see the disgusted look on Nick's face.  Pointing to a cupboard, he gave him a bright smile.  "You're welcome to my kind of breakfast, if you're so inclined.  You can find the healthy stuff in those cabinets, to the right of the ice box."

The look Nick gave him was full of annoyance.  "Yeah, I could'a guessed.  Didn't look like nothin' Dave would'a touched with a ten-foot pole."

"His loss," Hutch replied casually.  Although accurate.

Turning back to his chore, he listened to Nick as he dug through the refrigerator.  Hutch had to admit, if only to himself, the urge to dump the last of the waffle batter had been tempting.  He might have to cook dinner for an extra guest, but there had been no way he was going to let Nick share in the breakfast.  That was for Starsky alone.

Not surprisingly, rather than actually cook anything, Nick ended up with breakfast cereal.  Hutch refilled his own coffee cup and sat at the table across from him.

"Dave seemed really happy that I'm comin' to live here," Nick said around a mouthful of cereal, eyes on his bowl.

"I'd say so."

"Guess he misses me a lot."  Nick looked up through his lashes, and Hutch could tell his reactions were being gauged.

"I'm sure he does."

Nick grinned, eyes back on his bowl.  "Guess you could do without me, huh?"

Hutch smiled slightly.  "Would you be surprised if I said yes?"

"No, guess not."  Nick finished his cereal and leaned back in his chair, his eyes serious in features that showed amusement.  "You 'n me always got along good enough, didn't we?  Thought we were friends."

Hutch was quiet for a moment, wondering how honest he should be.  He really didn't understand his own feelings at this point.

"I don't know you well enough to be friends, Nick," he admitted.  "You're his brother.  I know how much family means to him, so you started out with a lot going for you even before I met you.  But you're dangerous."

"To him?  You gotta know I'd never do anything to hurt Dave."  Nick leaned forward, eyes growing hard.  "Or do you mean dangerous to you?"

Before he had time to even think about the question, Starsky came out of the bathroom.

"Your turn, brother-of-mine," Starsky yelled.  "If you're lucky, there might even be some hot water left."

"Boy, do you spoil me or what?"  Nick laughed, his features jovial as he stood up from the table, but Hutch could still feel the dark surface under the man's facade.

Hutch topped off his coffee, waiting for Starsky to get dressed and join him.

This isn't going to work.  I'm not sure I can take a whole weekend of Nick, and it's not fair to Starsky.  He shouldn't have to find himself in the middle of the two of us.  Not today.

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky eyed with distaste the pile of laundry still in the corner of the bedroom, but ignored it for the moment, searching for a clean outfit.  Groceries hadn't been the only chore that had been neglected the past few weeks.  The pile his brother had left wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for the fact that Nick had clearly pawed through his drawers and closet space like a bear digging bugs out of a dead log.  He could tell he was going to have to read his brother the riot act when it came to living in this apartment for more than a couple of days.  Coming to visit was one thing, but he wasn't going to put up with Nick's habits for any appreciable length of time.

As he located a comfortable shirt and his favorite--if a bit worn--pair of jeans, he found his mind wandering again to his partner.  Hutch was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and looking too serious.  It was never a good thing when Hutch looked like that on his time off.

Something is going on with him, and I'm not sure what it is.  Maybe he's still not feeling well.  He should'a stayed home a couple more days.  He's still awful pale.

While he'd been glad to have the extra help during the manpower shortage, Starsky had nevertheless tried to talk Hutch into staying home a few more days.  Hutch had insisted on coming in as soon as he could stand upright for any length of time, so Starsky had found himself keeping a careful eye on what looked to be a walking corpse.  He'd seen the results of this kind of flu, had seen how it practically turned a man inside out.  The hospitals were still full of the elderly and the very young because of the dangers of dehydration due to the outbreak.  There had been a couple of times when Starsky had stopped by to check on Hutch that he'd been sorely tempted to take him to the emergency room himself.

He never did get rested up right.  Probably was just looking forward to some quiet time, then Nick shows up.  Kinda hard to put up with a guest when you're not quite up to par.

As he walked into the kitchen, he noticed Hutch didn't look at him, but studied his coffee.  He got his own cup, fixed it the way he liked it and sat at the table across from his partner.

"I'd offer you a penny for your thoughts, but with inflation I'm not sure I can afford 'em anymore."  He smiled, waiting for Hutch to meet his eyes.

"You're right about inflation, but they're actually not worth it."  Hutch smiled slightly.  "I'm just trying to decide if I should head on home and--"   

"Home?"  Disappointment ran through Starsky in a strong wave.  "But it's my birthday, Hutch!  We had plans--"

"I know!  I know!"  Hutch raised his hands in entreaty.  "But Nick's here, and I'd be the third wheel.  I was just thinking it would be better if I left the two of you alone, you know, to get reacquainted."

"It's just Nicky," Starsky argued.  "You never seemed to mind him bein' around before.  What's really goin' on?  You still feelin' sick?"

He watched as Hutch looked away--toward the bathroom where the shower was still running.  He looked a little embarrassed as he turned back to his coffee cup.

"I don't really know, Starsk.  After the last few weeks, I don't think I have the strength to deal with company.  Guess I'm just…tired."

The last word had come out almost as a whisper.  Starsky could see Hutch was serious, and embarrassed, so he knew to take the admission at face value.  He waited until Hutch glanced up at him before nodding his head.

"Sure.  Okay.  I'll admit we're both tired and probably a little burned out.  Who wouldn't be?  This is the first few days we've had to recharge our batteries, and then we get a visitor and some big news.  But we'll kick back, watch some TV, and kibbitz.  Got lots'a time to relax.  You'll feel better after a lazy lunch and some meaningless conversation.  You'll see."  He smiled then, reaching out to squeeze his partner's wrist.

Hutch didn't pull away, so Starsky kept his grip firm.  He could see Hutch really didn't want to leave, and Starsky didn't want him to, but he did look tired and worn.  He couldn't blame him for wanting some quiet time to himself.

"How about I just duck out for a few?" Hutch ventured.  "I need to check my mail, water my plants, touch base.  Why don't I drop you and Nick off at the Torino, and you guys can give it a spin before meeting me back here?"

"Now, that sounds like a plan!" Starsky agreed enthusiastically.  He'd been afraid Hutch was going to insist on leaving for the rest of the weekend, and he knew it wouldn't be the same if he did.  "That'll give you lots of time to get my birthday present!  Wouldn't want to forget that, right?"

"Present?"  Starsky knew he'd hit the right note when Hutch's features became more animated.  "Why in the world, after planning the meals and shopping for the whole weekend, would I feel the need to get you a present?" he demanded.

"Because I'll keep buggin' you 'til you do?"

"Nope.  I'm used to that."  Hutch shook his head, a slight smile on his face.  "And if I were going to get you a present, what makes you think it isn't already here?"

Starsky felt astonishment take over.  He hadn't thought of that.  "No shit?  It is here, isn't it?  Where'd you put it?"

Hutch snorted in laughter, getting up from his chair.  "Who knows?  You could even be sitting on it."  Hutch smiled at him evilly.  It was all Starsky could do not to flip his chair over for a look.  Too easy.

"C'mon.  The sooner we get this show on the road, the sooner I'll get to my birthday dinner," Starsky announced, getting up to find his keys.  He realized his brother was still in the bathroom.  "Hey!  Nicky!  Get your butt out here!  We're goin' for a drive!"  He grinned when Hutch winced at his volume.  "So, whatcha waitin' for, partner?  Let's get this ankle taped up.  We've got places to go."

~*~*~*~*~

Nothing like a bit of sunlight and some spring cleaning to wake you up, Hutch thought, eyes on the busy traffic and full sidewalks as he headed back to Starsky's apartment.  It had been a cool winter, and he could see the beginnings of spring in the city.  It couldn't have come too soon.  Hutch was as ready for the warmth and freshness of spring as anyone else.  Maybe even more so.

Pretty soon the hills will be greener and the beaches will be just like I like them--warm enough for walking but too cool for tourists.  I need to get out and walk more, get some of that fresh air into my lungs.

The trip to Venice Place had helped settle him down, and he was glad he had taken the time out.  It had taken him longer to get his basic housework done than he thought it would.  There had been bills he'd put off paying while he was sick, his bank statement to balance, a refrigerator to clean out and his plants to water and nurture.  Several of them were looking a bit sickly, so he felt the need to give them a little extra attention.  By the time he was finished, he was not only surprised to see several hours had passed, but how much better he felt about the weekend.  He felt a lot more able to tolerate Nick's presence, now that he'd gotten his second wind and was looking forward to the rest of the day.

Maybe we ought to start getting serious about our vacation time, he wondered, idly, speeding up as the traffic thinned out.  If Starsky is going to want to take off somewhere with Nick, or drag him along with us, then I guess I'd better get used to the idea early.  Guess--

                        …Flash…

                                    …pressure…

                                                …panic…

                                                            …pain…

                                                                        …THUNDER…

...darkness...

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky stretched uncomfortably in the passenger seat of the Torino.  His ankle was throbbing and his head was beginning to ache.  He held his tongue and kept a fake smile plastered on his face, unwilling to spoil Nick's enjoyment in getting to drive.

You'd better enjoy it, kid, 'cause this is the last time you're getting behind the wheel of my car!

Once Hutch had dropped them off, they decided to make an afternoon of it.  He couldn't drive--or walk--very far so had taken Nick to the pier.  They'd had a true "boardwalk" lunch of fresh seafood and sat and visited while watching the boats go in and out.  They discussed Nick's excitement about moving to the city, his plans to start a new life.  While it should have been pleasant, the conversation bothered him.  Despite their talk last night about his working with their Uncle Al, it seemed that very little of Nick's vision of Bay City life had anything to do with work, but more with seducing some rich, lonely California women.

Starsky held his tongue, unwilling to start nagging his brother already.  It was his birthday, and Monday would be enough time to see how serious his brother was when it came to providing for himself.  Starsky had no intention of being another mark for his brother to leech off of, nor was he going to encourage Nick to keep living off ofothers.

When they decided to head home, Nick had turned on the charm, begging to drive the Torino.  Even though a little voice inside was calling him a fool, it didn't take long for Starsky to surrender the keys and agree to let Nick drive.  At first he'd thought his brother was somewhat rusty, but after rolling through several stop signs and nearly side-swiping a parked car, he'd come to the unfortunate conclusion that Nick had never gotten to drive much.  Probably almost never.

He's been riding in taxis too long.  I'm afraid to find out who it was who actually taught him to drive, because it looks like he learned on his lonesome.  Wonder how he'd react to an offer of a refresher course?

Starsky sighed as Nick slid through a red light.  "Okay, that's it, kid!  Pull over and let me get us both back home in one piece."

"Aw, c'mon, Dave!  I just got behind the wheel!  You know you brag about this machine so much that I just hafta see what all the fuss is about.  Can't I take it on the freeway to see what she can really do?"

"No way!  I'd like to keep my car intact, if you don't mind.  C'mon, pull over."

"Fine!  You just wait 'til I get my own--"

The shriek of a siren startled Starsky, and he turned to see a black-and-white close behind them, mars lights flashing.

Damn!  They saw him run that red light.  First day here and he gets a ticket, in my car no less!

"Aw, man!"  Nick turned the car toward the curb after his glance in the rearview mirror.  All enthusiasm now gone.  "I wasn't doin' nothin'!  You can take care of this, can't ya, Davey?"

"Who?  Me?"  Starsky shook his head.  "I wasn't the one who couldn't make up his mind about what a red stoplight means.  Just 'cause I'm your brother, doesn't mean I'm gonna flash my badge every time you get into trouble, ya know."

As the police cruiser pulled in behind them, Starsky realized he knew the two in the car.  Officers Conseco and Miller were good men, and he was just beginning to wonder if he would actually try to sweet talk Nick's way out of a ticket when he noticed something was wrong.  Officer Conseco jogged quickly to the driver's side, and Starsky felt a chill when he realized the officer didn't even have his ticket book with him.

"Detective--!"  Conseco stopped short as he leaned over enough to see the driver wasn't Starsky.  He looked relieved when he recognized the passenger.

"Detective Starsky!  We saw you headed the wrong way and didn't think you'd heard."

"Heard what?"

"Call just came through.  Something about your partner's car.  I recognized the plate they called in.  An ambulance has been called to Mostoff and Collins streets, for the driver."

"Ambulance?!  They say what for?"

"Just caught the tail end of the broadcast, sir.  It went out just a few seconds before we spotted you."

Slapping the mars light on the roof as he leaped out the door, Starsky practically flew around to the driver's side.  "You take the lead and get us there now!" he ordered the officer.  "Nick, move over!"

He flipped the police radio, lights and siren on, then floored the Torino into life.  "Hang on!"

They took off with a squeal of tires, forcing their way through traffic.  His own hands full with keeping the Torino under control, he was flooded with gratitude as Miller's voice came over the radio.

"Ocean Seventeen to Dispatch.  We need information on the incident at Mostoff and Collins.  We recognize the plates as belonging to Detective Hutchinson.  Do you confirm?"

The response seemed to take forever.  Starsky fought to keep his attention on the road, streets flashing by.  A glance to the side showed Nick was hanging on for dear life, quiet and pale.

"Dispatch to Ocean Seventeen.  Affirmative on the plate identification.  Officers at the scene have called for a bomb unit.  We're trying to contact Captain Dobey and Detective Starsky.  No further information available at this time."

Bomb?  SHIT!  The Torino jerked forward, almost touching the bumper of the speeding unit in front of him.

"Ocean Seventeen to Dispatch.  Log us and Detective Starsky on the way to the scene.  ETA three minutes."

Too damn long!

"Ten-four, Ocean Seventeen."

He can't be…  He's gotta be…  It's gotta be somethin' else…

Anything else.

Please!

Time seemed to slow as they grew closer to the site, even as his heart raced faster and faster.

The first thing he saw as they turned onto Mostoff were the flashing lights from numerous police cruisers, and the pedestrians that crowded both sides of the street.  Slamming the Torino into a skidding stop, leaving only inches between him and the lead car, Starsky was out and headed for the middle of the confusion, his whole body alert for any sign of Hutch.

Gotta be okay…gotta be okay…gotta be…gotta…

He caught only a glimpse of the LTD's trunk beyond the crowd surrounding the area.  All he could tell from that angle was that it was too damn close to the telephone pole, so the front must be wrapped around it.  Fighting to clear a path, paying no attention as his name was called, he pushed through those who blocked him.

Hands grabbed at him but he brushed them off, gaining enough ground to see through the car windows.

He gasped, realizing he couldn't see inside the crumpled car--the windows were covered in red.

Rivulets and waves of crimson ran down each window, blocking the view inside.

Someone in the crowd moved, and he suddenly saw the driver's door, open and dripping.  Red flowed down it in sticky looking streams, collecting into pools on the pavement.

His world slowed to blurs of movement and a wash of sound in his ears, all red and bleeding.  Several people grabbed at him, tried to pull him away, but he pushed them off, deaf to their voices and the senseless noise they made.

As the voices grew more insistent and the hands on his arms grew stronger, he noticed the car's doorway was framed in bloody-looking handprints, as if several people had delved into the madness inside, leaving nothing but a bleeding interior.

…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…

He found himself twisted away from the red in and on the car.  He let them lead him away, feeling as if he no longer belonged to himself.

The person he wanted was no longer inside the car.

The ambulance was in front of him, the voices still insistent that he listen, but he wasn't ready to.

That was where he wanted to go, so he let himself be led in that direction.  That's where they would have taken him.

He focused on the back of the open ambulance, as if the shaded opening were the door to another world.  Someone in white, splotched here and there in crimson, filled the doorway.  He knew it must be an ambulance crewman.

He froze, afraid to move and make it real.

The splotched figure move aside, and he could see beyond to a darkish red bulk.  He could only guess it was human.

The shadowed, reddish figure slowly turned toward him, as if caught in the same mire he was.  Blue, ocean-colored eyes in a sea of red, yellow and frighteningly pale skin caught him, recognized him, and spoke silent understanding of the shock they shared.  A slight, sad smile played at the corner of the bloody-looking lips.

Starsky gulped hungrily, feeling starved for air.  It was safe to let the world back in.  He felt his whole body shake as he did so.

ALIVE!

~*~*~*~*~

Hutch tried to stay upright on the stretcher, despite the attendant's attempts to get him to lie down again.  He was unwilling to touch the mess of red paint he had transferred to the sheets the first time.  He felt plastered with the thick, chalky substance, almost suffocated with the smell of it.  His head ached and his ears buzzed from the force of the explosion, but he knew he'd been lucky, damn lucky, that it hadn't been the real thing.

He felt eyes on him and turned slowly to stare out into the turmoil of light, cars and uniformed officers, knowing who he was looking for.  Starsky was there, being steered toward the ambulance.  Hutch cursed to himself as their eyes met, and he tried to send reassurance with his glance.

Shit!  They let him see the car first.  He probably barreled right through them like a bull in a china shop.

He kept his eyes on Starsky as he came toward the ambulance, ignoring the fussing of the attendant who wanted to take him to the hospital.  Starsky's eyes had grabbed him like they'd never let go.  Hutch was glad to see the shocked look quickly covered up as he came closer.  Now wasn't the time for them to fall apart.  Either of them.

Asking questions of the attendant even before he got to the door, Starsky was inside before Hutch could say anything.  The attendant argued with Starsky at first, but Hutch was too tired to intervene, the roaring in his ears and the ache in his head making it hard to follow the conversation.  It soon became clear Starsky was going to be allowed to stay, for the moment, as he sat down beside him.  Hutch could make out a few words between the two men.  "Possible concussion," "fuzzy hearing," "testing," and "paint bomb" came through well enough.  Growing shakier, cold in spite of the blanket around him, he was grateful for Starsky's warmth.

It had been strange, coming back to consciousness in that wet mess of a car.  His first coherent thought was that he was witnessing his life's blood drip from the walls, all in slow motion.  He'd felt anger and outrage at the sight.  He had no idea how long it had taken him to realize the roaring in his ears wasn't the sound of his death, and the red that he swam in wasn't his own blood.  Things after that were a blur.

He felt Starsky's arm come around him, move up his back, his hand coming up to squeeze Hutch's shoulder even through the sticky mess.  His head was starting to pound again, so he gave up his attempts to listen and closed his eyes.  Feeling the world tilt, followed by strong hands that helped him down once more, he finally let himself relax, feeling a tremble as his adrenaline rush faded.

He could rest now.  They were both okay.

~*~*~*~*~

The sight of Hutch sitting up in the ambulance had been both a tremendous relief and a huge shock.  Even after having seen the inside of the car, Starsky hadn't been prepared for this scene.  Sitting on the stretcher, a blanket flung around one shoulder, Hutch had been a study in crimson.  The explosion had plastered the back of his head and shoulders with the stuff.  His hair, blown forward by the blast, had been clumsily pushed back until yellow strands from the front became strange, blond swirls in the mass of red at the back.  His face, apparently the side away from the bomb, had mostly escaped, but was freckled and streaked where the liquid had splashed, dripped or been spread.  It had even caked in places in his mustache.  It chilled Starsky to see how much like a fresh and bloody corpse he looked.  He had never seen Hutch's eyes as brilliant a blue as they were in that pale, red and yellow face.  If he hadn't seen the life behind that blue, Starsky thought his brain would have shut down entirely.

The ambulance attendant had balked at letting him in at first, but Starsky had gone in anyway, settling down next to his partner and pulling him close, before explaining who he was.  The attendant was insisting Hutch be examined at the hospital, although his first assessment was that there were no open wounds, but his head and his hearing should be checked.  There was no telling what could be hidden under that red liquid.

Suddenly, Hutch seemed to relax in his embrace, and the attendant helped him lower Hutch onto the stretcher.

Damn!  Should've had him lie back down when I got in.  Wasn't watching him close enough.

"He really needs to be checked out, Detective, but he was insisting on staying here.  Can you talk some sense into him?"

"He's goin' to the hospital, and I'm riding along."

"But he says--"

"Not anymore, he doesn't."  Starsky glanced at Hutch as he moved to the head of the stretcher, settling in for the ride.  Hutch was watching them both with bleary eyes, but hadn't made any move to object.  "If he gives us any lip, just declare him incompetent and I get to decide where he goes.  I've got a medical power of attorney over him."

Looking as if he were about to argue the point, the attendant seemed to give up and shrug.  "Fine, then.  Let's go."

Just as the attendant was getting ready to shut the doors, Starsky saw Nick, pale and wide-eyed, at the back door along with Officer Conseco.  He had completely forgotten about him in the excitement.

"Sorry, kid, but I gotta go in with him to the hospital.  You do me a favor?"

"Y-yeah, sure."  Nick tried to smile at him.  "Name it!"

"I need someone to drive my car to the hospital.  Think you can find the place?"

He dug in his pockets, only then realizing he'd never taken the key out of the ignition.  Nick's eyes brightened at the request.

"Sure!  Hey, look around.  There's cops up the ass here.  How can I get lost?"

"He could ride in with us," Officer Conseco offered helpfully.

"We're rolling in a minute," the attendant warned them all loudly, frustration in his voice.

"Nah, I'll need my car later."  Starsky nodded his thanks to the officer.  "Conseco, you stick around and tell Dobey where I am and that Hutch is just goin' to get checked out.  Tell him we'll be okay and that we need to know as soon as possible everything there is to know about that bomb."

"Will do, detective!"

The door was shut soundly, and the ambulance started to move.  Moving to sit out the trip at the head of the stretcher, Starsky saw that Hutch's eyes were closed.  He patted his shoulder, left his hand there and smiled as the tired eyes opened once more.  Hutch raised his hand and took hold of Starsky's forearm, so they were holding onto each other.  He didn't say anything.  Neither did Hutch.  He knew they would be thinking the same thing.

Whoever did this didn't want him dead, or he would be.  The bomb was meant as a warning, to scare us.  It did a hell of a job on me, he admitted to himself.  Who, how and why?  And where in the hell do we start?

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky sat back, waxed-paper cup of coffee in hand, and tried to find a comfortable spot on the waiting room couch.  He really wished he could put his foot up, but that was impossible with the room as crowded as it was.  There wasn't much to look at either, the room now so familiar that he felt as if he had spent much of his life here.  In fact, Starsky could almost swear that the décor hadn't changed since his first trip, right after his academy graduation.  His first visit had been when he had accompanied his senior partner in uniform as they tried to get information, as gently as possible, out of a grieving family.  Nothing had seemed to change but the worried and stunned faces of those who waited.

He had been glad for the fairly sedate ride in the ambulance.  He still felt a bit shaky, but the ride in had given him time to collect himself.  At this point, unless the doctors found otherwise, he wasn't worried about Hutch's health as much as how to keep him healthy.  He knew, intellectually, "it" could happen to either one of them at any time, but emotionally it was something he tried not to dwell on.

Kinda hard not to think about it when you've had your nose rubbed in it.  But whoever they are, we have to assume they're playing hardball, and that there won't be a second warning.  How much time are we going to get before the real thing happens?

Time was the problem.  Unless they found a note somewhere, or the station had gotten a call with demands, there wasn't anything to go on.  There was, of course, the possibility that the bomb squad would find something important, but Starsky knew there had been enough Vietnam vets coming back from the war with demolition experience, that bomb-making wasn't the specialized art it used to be.  The knowledge could be had for the right price.  So how long did they have to find the "who" and "why" and put a stop to it?

He checked his watch again.  It had been quite a while already.  He was beginning to worry about Nick.  He hadn't shown up yet, and Starsky was starting to wonder if he should try to reach his brother on the radio.

Dobey came around the corner and Starsky rose to meet him, seeing how exhausted the older man looked.  While Dobey himself had been lucky enough to escape the flu, Starsky knew his kids had had it.  They were getting better now, but the long hours at work and home had put new creases on the plump features, and what looked to be even more gray in the temples.

"How is he?" Dobey asked tiredly.

"Haven't heard yet, but I think he's going to be okay after a shower and some rest."

"The bomb unit is going over the car now.  They've found what was left of it and say that it wasn't meant to do anything more than spread all that paint over a wide area.  If it had been much stronger it could have done some real damage."

"It was powerful enough to get our attention," Starsky added quietly.  "This was a warning, and for the life of me, Captain, I don't know what we're being warned of.  Hutch has been sick, and I've been swamped with paperwork at the station for the past few weeks.  It's been months since we've had anything really heavy go down.  At least, heavy enough to threaten a cop killing."

"What have you got coming up in court?"

Starsky thought for a moment, but still couldn't think of anything that important.  He shook his head.  "No case that would account for this.  If this was a warning, they should've left us more of a clue."

"We'll just have to wait and see if any calls come into the station.  We'll start pulling your latest files and see if anything jumps out at us."

"When Hutch and I get back--"

Dobey held up a hand to interrupt him.  "I'm not sure you should come back."

"Cap'n--"

"Detective Starsky," Dobey rumbled warningly.  "Neither one of you is in much shape right now.  You're not going to be at your sharpest, and we can't afford any slip-ups.  I think you and Hutch should go to a safe house, take the time off to rest up, and see what we can come up with at the station."

As he was about to argue, he caught a glance of Nick stepping through the doors.

"Just a second, Cap'n."  He turned and waved slightly, catching Nick's eye.

Dobey looked surprised at the sight of Nick heading toward them.  "Isn't that your brother?"

"Yeah."

Nick came up to them both and handed Starsky a paper sack.

"I was about to go lookin' for you."  Starsky looked at the sack.  "What's this?"

"I just figured Hutch was gonna need somethin' to wear.  I went back to your place and found some things that looked his size."

Starsky felt a flush of warmth for his brother and reached out to pat his arm.  "Thanks, kid.  You remember Captain Dobey?"

"Would I forget such an important man?" Nick asked, all smiles as he reached out to shake Dobey's hand.

"Nice to see you again, son."  Dobey smiled crookedly as he shook the younger man's hand.

"Nicky just got in last night, Cap'n.  he's moving to the city and was planning on staying with me for a while.  Looks like his timing isn't the best."

Nick looked uncertainly from one man to the other.  "Is Hutch okay?  Am I in the way here?"

Starsky exchanged glances with Dobey.  "You're fine, Nick.  I'm still waiting to hear about Hutch, but I think he's okay.  You can see how serious this was.  That paint bomb in Hutch's car wasn't put there just for laughs.  If someone is after him or us, then everyone around us could be in the line of fire."

"Your brother and I were just discussing the fact that they need to be somewhere safe for a while, until we can get this mess straightened out."

"And since I'm staying with big brother here…?"

"You have the good luck to be included in our party."  Starsky sighed, walking over to dump the now cold coffee in the nearby garbage can.  "It's not that I don't trust the other detectives or anything, Cap'n--"