Pat Chachich

   A cold wind blew down the dark alley. Hutch shivered and turned his jacket collar up against the chill, then reached over to grab Starsky's arm, turning it so he could see his partner's watch. "Quarter-to-ten," he said. "Time to get this show on the road."

   Starsky, also hunched against the cold, nodded. "What the heck's Davidson waiting for, anyway?" he complained.

   The two detectives had been assigned by Captain Dobey to assist Narcotics with a drug bust planned for that evening. The detective in charge, Lieutenant Frank Davidson, was a twenty-year veteran of the force with a cold, abrupt manner. He had been less than pleased to have Starsky and Hutch assigned to his squad, telling Dobey that his own men could handle things, but Dobey had been insistent. So here they were, crouched behind a dumpster in the alley, waiting for the signal to move in.

   Hutch shivered again as another gust of wind swirled past them. "If Davidson doesn't hurry up he's gonna find two popsicles in this alley instead of detectives," he said grimly.

   Starsky gave a short laugh and was about to make a comment when the walkie-talkie in Hutch's hand suddenly crackled to life.

   "All units--ready to move in, " came Davidson's voice.

   Both detectives gave a sigh of relief. "This is Zebra-Three. Roger," Hutch answered. "It's about damn time," he muttered under his breath.

   Starsky grinned and put a consoling hand on his shoulder as they moved toward the building. "C'mon, Blondie, let's go get the bad guys, then I'll take you home and make you a nice cup of hot chocolate."

   Hutch rolled his eyes. "Starsk..."

   "Hey, be nice, and I'll throw in some extra marshmallows," Starsky interrupted.

   Hutch grinned in spite of himself. "Come on, Gordo, let's go," he said shaking his head.

   The two detectives drew their guns as they reached the entrance to the building. Before going in they paused briefly, their eyes meeting in unspoken, but perfectly understood communication, "Be careful" and "I'm right behind you, partner."

   Going inside the building, the first thing they noticed was the silence. Suddenly there was a loud crash from the front of the building and a voice yelled, "Police! Freeze!"

   Starsky and Hutch entered the front room and saw Davidson and another detective from Narcotics, Sergeant Mark Burns, on opposite sides of the room, backs to the door. Burns was about five years older than Starsky and Hutch, tall, with sandy brown hair. There was no sign of anyone else in the room, only a few overturned chairs, scattered newspapers, and a long table near the door Starsky and Hutch came in. The creaking of the door as they entered caused Davidson to whirl around, firing a single shot before he realized who was there.

   "Hey!" Hutch shouted as he and Starsky dove for the floor. The other two detectives from the Narcotics squad burst into the room at the sound of the gunshot, then froze, looking in confusion from Davidson to the two detectives on the floor.

   Davidson put his gun back in his holster and came over to Hutch. "Sorry, Hutchinson. You Okay? I thought..."

   Hutch interrupted angrily. "No, you didn't think, Lieutenant! You knew we were covering the back! You could've..."

   He broke off as he glanced over at Starsky and saw his partner being helped into a sitting position by Sergeant Burns. Starsky was bleeding from his forehead. Instantly, Hutch was at his side, pushing Burns out of the way to grasp Starsky's shoulder. "Starsk! Are you all right? Let me see, buddy." He brushed Starsky's hair back from his forehead and used his handkerchief to blot some of the blood from the wound.

   Starsky tried to brush Hutch's hand away. "Relax, Hutch. I wasn't hit." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "I just musta hit my head on the table on the way down." He looked up at his partner. "You okay?"

   Hutch squeezed his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine, Starsk." He lowered his voice. "No thanks to that trigger-happy Lieutenant."

   Though his voice was quiet, Davidson heard and turned on him angrily. "Alright, that's enough, Hutchinson. I told you it was an accident. Why don't you get your partner checked out at the hospital? You can both file your reports in the morning."

   Hutch was about to make a heated comment when Starsky, now holding Hutch's handkerchief against the gash in his forehead, grabbed his arm. "Take it easy, Hutch. I'm okay. It was an accident."

   Hutch stared into his eyes for a long moment, then sighed. "Okay, Starsk." He turned to Davidson. "I do want to know one thing, though. What happened with the drug lab we were supposed to bust tonight? Did you just have bad information, or did something tip them off?"

   Davidson's eyes narrowed. "Just what are you implying, Hutchinson?"

   Hutch raised his eyebrows, surprised at the other man's defensiveness. "I'm not implying anything, Lieutenant. Just curious, that's all."

   Davidson glared at him for a moment, then turned to the rest of the squad and growled, "Alright, people. Looks like nothing's going to happen here tonight. Let's go home. I want everybody's reports on my desk tomorrow." With that he turned and stalked out.

   The other Narcotics detectives stood and looked at each other for a minute, then started moving toward the door. "Man, I can't believe this happened again," one said. "I need a drink. Who's up for Kelsey's?" The others murmured in agreement. "You coming, Burns?"

   Sergeant Burns didn't reply, watching as Hutch helped Starsky to his feet.

   "Burns?" the other detective said impatiently. "You coming?"

   Burns seemed lost in thought. He jumped, startled. "Uh, no thanks, guys. Not tonight. I think I'll just head home."

   The other detective shrugged. "So what else is new? Okay. See ya." He headed out the door with a wave.

   Burns turned to Hutch who was standing with Starsky leaning heavily against him, one arm around Starsky's waist and one of Starsky's arms over his shoulders. "You guys need any help?"

   Hutch shook his head. "No, thanks. I think we've got it covered." He turned with Starsky toward the door. "'Night, Burns," he said over his shoulder. Turning back to Starsky, he tightened his arm around his partner's waist. "C'mon, buddy, let's go get you patched up. Then I'll make you some hot chocolate." Starsky grinned up at him as Hutch helped him out the door. Burns stood in the center of the room staring after them for a few minutes, then sighed and turned to walk out to his car alone.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky and Hutch spent two hours in the emergency room waiting for someone to take a look at the gash on Starsky's forehead. Starsky had a dark bruise and a good-sized lump, but the wound itself turned out to be not as deep as Hutch had feared. Starsky hadn't even needed stitches. As he also didn't appear to have a concussion, the doctor had closed the gash with some adhesive strips and sent them home with a list of symptoms to watch out for. Despite Starsky's protests that he was fine, Hutch had insisted on sleeping on Starsky's couch 'just in case'.

~~~~~~~~

   The next morning the two detectives headed straight for Captain Dobey's office. Just as Hutch reached for the knob to open the door, it suddenly swung open and he nearly collided with Lieutenant Davidson. Hutch stopped abruptly, causing Starsky to bump into him from behind.

   The three men stood and stared at each other for a moment, then Davidson nodded coolly. "Hutchinson."

   Hutch's nod was just as cool, "Lieutenant."

   Davidson turned to Starsky. "How's the head, Starsky?"

   Starsky reached up to touch the bandage on his forehead and grimaced slightly. "Well, it kinda feels like somebody's playing bongos inside my head, but I think I'll live."

   Davidson looked from one to the other as if he wanted to say something else, but then just brushed past muttering about having to get back to work. Starsky and Hutch exchanged raised eyebrows, then turned and entered Dobey's office.

   "Captain, do you have a minute?" Hutch asked. "We need to talk to you."

   Dobey looked annoyed. "Hutchinson," he barked. "Don't you know how to knock?"

   "Sorry, Cap, but this is important," Hutch replied.

   "Yeah, I think I know what you want to talk about," Dobey answered. "Davidson was just telling me about what happened last night." He raised a hand to prevent Hutch from making a comment. "I know you get a little crazy when your partner's hurt, but that's no reason to yell at a senior officer."

   "My partner wouldn't've been hurt if that Lieutenant hadn't been so damn trigger-happy," Hutch said sharply. Starsky laid his hand on Hutch's arm, trying to calm him down.

   Dobey glared at Hutch. "Davidson says it was an accident."

   "His 'accident' could've gotten me or Starsky killed." Hutch was still angry.

   Starsky tightened his grip on Hutch's arm. "C'mon, Hutch, take it easy," he said.

   "I suggest you listen to your partner, Hutchinson," Dobey said sternly. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Sit down, both of you."

   As the two detectives sat down in chairs facing Dobey's desk, Hutch took a deep breath, trying to get his anger under control.

   "Alright, Starsky," Dobey continued. "Since your partner can't seem to control his temper, why don't you tell me what went down last night?"

   Starsky exchanged glances with Hutch, then gave a brief account of the previous night's events, ending with his and Hutch's dive for cover. "I'm afraid I'm a little fuzzy after that, Cap," Starsky said apologetically, reaching up again to touch the bandage on his forehead. Hutch reached over to squeeze his shoulder and Starsky gave him a smile. "Don't worry, Hutch, I'm fine," he told Hutch reassuringly.

   Hutch smiled back and patted Starsky on the shoulder, then turned back to Dobey, suddenly serious. "Captain, something funny's going on with that unit. When they were leaving I thought I heard one of the guys say it had happened before--going in and finding nobody there."

   Dobey sighed. "Now you know why I wanted you two to go along last night. This was the fourth bust in the last six months where all they found was an empty room."

   Starsky looked at Hutch, then back at Dobey. "Sounds like there might be a leak somewhere," he said.

   "That's what I thought," Dobey agreed. "I brought it up with Davidson, but he wouldn't even discuss it. Said he trusted all of his men completely."

   Hutch paused a moment before asking, "What about Davidson?"

   Dobey frowned. "I've known Frank Davidson for fifteen-years. He's always been a straight arrow. A little abrasive sometimes, but strictly by the book. I can't believe he would be the leak."

   Starsky and Hutch looked at each other. "You want us to look into this for you, Cap'n?" Starsky asked.

   "Like you said, something funny's going on and we need to find out if we have an officer on the take," Dobey answered. "Just try to keep it quiet, will you?"

   "Sure thing, Captain," Hutch said as he and Starsky stood up.

   Dobey picked up a stack of file folders from his desk and handed them to Starsky. "Here's copies of the personnel files of the detectives in Davidson's unit," he said. "I ordered them from Records this morning."

   Hutch looked over at the pile. "Is Davidson's file in there, too?" he asked. Dobey nodded silently.

   "Don't worry, Cap'n," Starsky said. "We'll find out what's going on."

   Hutch nodded as he held the door open for his partner. "Yeah, Cap'n," he said. "Just leave everything to us."

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky and Hutch spent the rest of the morning going over the files on the officers in Lieutenant Davidson's unit. As the morning wore on, the two detectives became increasingly discouraged. While all of the officers had been on the force for a number of years, so far the files had yielded no clues to suggest who might be responsible for leaking information to the drug dealers.

   Hutch dropped the file he was reading on his desk and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He sighed and rubbed his face. "Man, I don't know how much more of this excitement I can stand," he muttered sarcastically.

   Starsky looked up from the file in his hand and nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it."

   Hutch waved his hand at the file he had dropped. "Looks like Dobey was right about Davidson being a straight arrow," he said. "Just look at this list of commendations. The guy's a regular walking advertisement for police integrity."

   Starsky grinned slightly. "You sound disappointed."

   Hutch shrugged. "I don't know. There's just something about that guy that rubs me the wrong way."

   "C'mon, Hutch, what happened last night was an accident. He's bound to be uptight what with all those busts going bad. He just over-reacted."

   "Maybe," Hutch said doubtfully. He looked at his partner, trying not to think about what might have happened last night. "I've just got a bad feeling about that guy." He leaned forward and picked up the file again to resume reading.

   Starsky watched him for a minute, then shook his head and returned to his own reading. Usually, Hutch's instincts about people were right, but this time Starsky couldn't help but think that Hutch was letting his anger at what happened the night before influence his opinion of Davidson.

   For a short time both detectives were silent as they pored over the files. Then Starsky frowned and flipped though the file he was holding, then started digging through the papers on his desk.

   Hutch looked up. "What's the matter, Gordo? Lose something?" he asked with a slight grin.

   Starsky kept digging. "When did Dobey say the busts started going bad?"

   "About six months ago, wasn't it?" Hutch dug on his own side of the desk and came up with a typewritten page. "The first one was in May," he said, reading from the paper. "Why?"

   Starsky indicated the file he was holding. "This guy, Burns. He transferred here from the Rampart division in April...just a month before all this started."

   Hutch raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? That sounds like something worth looking into."

   "That's what I thought," Starsky agreed. "But right now what I'm interested in looking into is lunch. I'm starving."

   Hutch grinned at him affectionately. "You're always starving, Starsk."

   "C'mon, Hutch, have a heart. It's almost one o'clock." Starsky looked at his partner pleadingly.

   Hutch laughed. He never could resist that puppy-dog look from Starsky, and besides, now that he thought about it, he was hungry himself. "Okay, Starsk, you win," he said, standing up. "Let's go get lunch at Huggy's and while we're there we can see if he's heard anything about this."

   Starsky didn't need any more encouragement. He was on his feet, grabbing his jacket, and heading for the door almost before Hutch was finished talking. Hutch followed him out, grinning and shaking his head.    

~~~~~~~~

   The lunch rush was in full swing when they arrived at The Pits. All the tables were filled, so Starsky and Hutch grabbed two stools at the bar. Huggy was rushing back and forth and barely had time to wave at them before another customer demanded his attention. The two detectives ordered and were almost finished with their meals before the crowd started to thin out and Huggy was able to take a break.

   He dropped onto the stool next to Starsky with a heavy sigh. "Man, has this been a day. I ain't never seen so many hungry people in my life."

   "Looks like business is good, Hug," Hutch answered.

   "That it is, my friend," Huggy replied with a satisfied grin. His grin faded as Starsky turned toward him and he caught sight of the bandaged forehead. "Hey, Curly, what happened to you?"

   Starsky dismissed his injury with a wave of his hand. "Aw, it's nothin', Hug. Just had a little run-in with the corner of a table, that's all."

   "Well, it doesn't seem to have affected your appetite any," Huggy observed dryly as Starsky, who had finished his own food, had been reaching over to sneak french fries off Hutch's plate throughout their conversation. At first, Hutch had swatted at his hand, but finally he gave up and pushed his plate over in front of his partner. Starsky gave Hutch one of his crooked grins, his eyes twinkling, and Hutch had to smile back, though he shook his head at his partner's seemingly bottomless appetite.

   Starsky turned back to Huggy, who was trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. "Hey, Huggy, we need some information."

   Huggy pretended to be offended. "Hmph. And I thought you just came in here for my fine cuisine."

   "Oh, believe me, Hug, it's some of the best," Starsky assured him. "We just need to know what you've heard about drug dealers getting tipped off about police raids. Our Narcotics guys have been coming up empty too many times lately."

   Huggy looked surprised. "Don't tell me one of LA's finest is on the take."

   "I'm afraid it's starting to look that way, Huggy," said Hutch quietly. "You heard anything?"

   "Ya know that's not somethin' people just chat about in public," Huggy answered.

   "Yeah, I know, Hug, but if you've heard anything that even sounds like cops on the take we need to know," Starsky said.

   "Starsky, if there's a cop gettin' money from dealers, he's bein' damn quiet about it," said Huggy. "I haven't heard a word."

   Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances. "Okay, Hug," Starsky sighed. "Keep your ears open though, huh?"

   "You got it," Huggy answered

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky and Hutch sat in the Torino outside Huggy's trying to figure out their next move. "I still think it's kinda weird that all the tip-offs started right after Burns transferred in here," Starsky mused. "Maybe we should go talk to people at his old precinct."

   "Maybe. Of course, it could be just a coincidence," Hutch reminded him.

   Starsky sighed. "Yeah. But it's the only lead we've got so far."

   Hutch shook his head. "You're forgetting about Davidson."

   "No I'm not," Starsky told him. "I know we've gotta check out everybody on that team. But Burns is the only one we've got a lead on and we've gotta start somewhere."

   "Maybe we've just got to dig a little deeper," Hutch said stubbornly.

   Starsky shook his head in exasperation. "Hutch, I know you're mad about last night, but don't you think you might be over-reacting a little?"

   Hutch sighed. "I don't know. Maybe you're right, Starsk." He smiled slightly. "Maybe I just want it to be him so we'll have an excuse to nail that jerk."

   Starsky chuckled. "Glad you're on my side, partner."

~~~~~~~~

   Narcotics was on the third floor of the Rampart division. The squad room was empty when Starsky and Hutch entered except for a couple of uniformed officers in one corner typing reports. The two detectives crossed the room and knocked on the door labeled, "Capt. Arnold Martin". At the sound of a muffled 'come in', they opened the door and entered the office.

   Captain Martin was seated at his desk, a large stack of reports in front of him. He looked up as they entered, a distracted look on his face. He appeared to be in his early fifties, his close cropped dark hair showing just a touch of gray at the temples.

   Hutch approached the desk, Starsky close behind him. Both men showed their badges as Hutch introduced them. "Captain Martin, I'm Sergeant Ken Hutchinson, and this is my partner, Sergeant Dave Starsky. We're from Metro division. We'd like to talk to you about one of your former detectives, Mark Burns."

   Martin glanced at their badges as he rose and shook hands, then gestured them to chairs in front of the desk. As he returned to his own seat, Martin asked, "You want to talk about Burns? Is something wrong?"

   "No, nothing's wrong," Hutch said. "Just a routine investigation."

   Martin glared. "Cut the crap, Sergeant. You and I both know there's no such thing as a 'routine investigation'. Now why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

   Hutch exchanged a look with Starsky before answering. "Alright, Captain," he said. "We're investigating the possibility of a leak within our Narcotics division."

   "And you think it's Burns?" Martin asked incredulously.

   "We're checking out everyone on the squad, Captain," Hutch answered.

   "You don't know Burns very well, do you?" Martin asked.

   Both Starsky and Hutch shook their heads. "No, not really," said Hutch.

   "That's what I thought," Martin answered. "He's only been over at Metro for seven months, but he worked here for ten years, and he was one of the best detectives I ever worked with."

   "I'm sure he was, Captain," Starsky, silent to this point, spoke up. "But we've got to check out everything. And it is a little suspicious that the leaks started just a month after Burns transferred in."

   Martin stared at them both for a moment, and his eyes took on a pained expression. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "Detectives, do you know why Burns transferred to Metro?" At their silence, he continued. "Burns and his partner, Jim Thompson, were working on bringing down a drug ring that had been selling in the high schools. They were making progress, too--apparently too much progress..."

   His voice faded out and he stared into space for a moment, then visibly pulled himself together and continued. "It was a drive by shooting, right in front of Thompson's apartment. Burns had gone to pick him up for work and they were on their way back to the car when the shooting started. They missed Burns, but Thompson never had a chance. He didn't even make it 'til the ambulance got there. Died right there in the parking lot with Burns holding him."

   Martin paused and shook his head sadly. "They went through the Academy together, and they'd been partners for almost ten years. Burns really changed after that. Shut everybody out and became a real loner. Two months later, he asked for a transfer."

   Starsky felt a chill come over him as he listened, trying to stop the image in his mind of Hutch in Thompson's place. He looked over at his partner and saw him staring at Martin in shock, his face pale.

   As Starsky looked at him, Hutch turned toward him and their eyes met. Starsky's chest tightened at the pain that showed in his partner's eyes. Hutch held Starsky's gaze for a moment, then dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap.

   Starsky turned back to Captain Martin. He had to clear his throat before he could ask, "Did you catch the shooter?"

   Martin nodded. "Burns did. He worked practically around the clock to nail the guy."

   Starsky nodded. That's what he would do if something happened to Hutch. That's what Hutch had done for him after Gunther's goons had shot him in the police garage. He looked over at Hutch again and found his partner staring out the window, but the look in Hutch's eyes told Starsky he wasn't looking at the view.

   Starsky tried to get his mind back to their investigation. Forcing his eyes away from Hutch, he looked back at Martin. "You said Burns changed?" He couldn't help shooting another glance at Hutch. "Do you think he changed enough that he would start doing something like leaking information to drug dealers?"

   Martin paused thoughtfully, and when he answered his voice was sad. "Burns pretty much lost interest in everything after Thompson was killed. He just came to work, did his job, and went home. Refused another partner. Didn't really socialize with anyone. It was like he was just going through the motions. But he never stopped being a good cop. So, no, detective, I don't think he's your man."

   Starsky nodded as he stood up. "Alright, Captain, thanks for your time." He paused. "By the way, we'd like to keep this investigation as quiet as possible for now, so we'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to anybody."

   Martin rose and extended his hand. "I understand, Sergeant."

   Starsky shook hands with Martin, then placed his other hand on Hutch's shoulder. "Ready to go, partner?"

   Hutch looked up at him, his eyes still clouded. "Yeah, let's get out of here," he said quietly. He rose and shook hands briefly with Martin, then turned and walked out the door without another word. Starsky shrugged apologetically at Martin, then hurried after his partner.

   Starsky finally caught up to Hutch at the car. His partner was leaning on his arms braced against the roof of the Torino, once again staring into space. Starsky was silent a moment watching him, then reached out his hand and placed it on Hutch's arm. "Hey," he said gently. "Hutch?"

   Hutch's rigid shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry, Starsk," he said quietly. He turned around, but kept his eyes on the ground. Starsky kept his hand on Hutch's arm. "I just had to get out of there," Hutch continued. "That story just reminded me..." He broke off and raised his eyes to meet Starsky's.

   "I know, babe," Starsky said softly as he placed both hands on Hutch's shoulders. "It's okay." Even after a year and a half, the subject of Starsky's shooting by Gunther's thugs still unnerved Hutch. It had been the closest either of them had ever come to losing the other. They had talked about it and most of the time everything was fine, until Starsky got hurt or Hutch heard a story like the one Captain Martin had told today. Then all the memories and all the fear came rushing back.

   Hutch reached up to cover one of Starsky's hands with his own. They stood looking into each other's eyes for a few moments, then Starsky squeezed Hutch's shoulders gently. "You okay?"

   Hutch gave his partner a small smile. "Yeah." he paused, then added, "Thanks, Starsk."

   Starsky returned the smile and patted Hutch on the arm. "No problem, partner."

~~~~~~~~

   By the time they had returned to the station and finished up the paperwork, it was four o'clock. The partners were waiting for the elevator, arguing about where to eat dinner, when a loud voice sounded down the hall.

   "Hey! I need to talk to you two!"

   Turning around, they found themselves face to face with Sergeant Burns. His face was flushed and his jaw clenched.

   Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances. "Hey, Burns," said Starsky. "What's up?"

   "You two have a lot of nerve," Burns said. "What's the idea, going around asking questions about me behind my back?"

   "C'mon, Burns, calm down. You don't want to do this here," Hutch said, noticing that people were starting to stop and stare. He attempted to steer Burns over to an empty corner next to the stairs, but Burns jerked his arm away.

   "Listen, Burns, you know we're just doing our jobs," Starsky said.

   "Don't talk to me about your job. Why I transferred here is none of your business."

   Hutch spoke in a low voice. "Burns...I'm sorry about your partner. I..."

   Burns cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say you know how I feel. There's no way you could understand how I feel...your partner's alive." With that he turned and stalked off, slamming through the door to the stairwell.

   Starsky and Hutch stood there, shocked, watching him leave. "So much for keeping the investigation quiet," muttered Starsky. Neither man noticed Lieutenant Davidson silently standing in the doorway to the squad room, watching.

~~~~~~~~

   Lennie Rankin hung up the phone and reached for his cigarettes. He lit one with a trembling hand and drew the smoke deep into his lungs. A small man, he had long, dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a scraggly mustache and goatee. He sighed as he thought about the phone call he had just received.

   Lennie had never seen the cop who had been giving him and several other drug dealers in this part of the city information for the past six months. He just sent his money to a post office box as directed, and every so often the phone would ring and a voice would tell him where the cops planned to make a bust.

   Lennie took another long drag on his cigarette as the phone conversation replayed in his mind:

   "Lennie, I need you to do me a favor." The voice on the other end of the line was brusque.

   "A favor?" Lennie asked. "What kind of favor?"

   "Those two cops, Starsky and Hutchinson, are starting to ask too many questions. They need to be taken care of."

   "Taken care of?" Lennie's voice rose in shock. "Are you crazy, man? You want me to kill two cops?"

   The voice held a threatening edge. "Do I have to remind you what would happen if they find out about our little arrangement?"

   Fear crept into Lennie's voice. "You better find somebody else, man. I ain't gonna be part of killin' no cops."

   "Listen, you little punk," the voice snarled. "You take care of Starsky and Hutchinson, or I'll take care of you. You got that?"

   At that the phone had been abruptly slammed down. Lennie sat staring at the wall for a long time before lighting another cigarette and reaching for the phone to make some calls of his own.

~~~~~~~~

   Two days had passed and Starsky and Hutch were getting increasingly frustrated. They had been unable to connect anybody to anything and were no closer to finding out who was the source of the leak. On top of that, the detectives in Narcotics resented Starsky and Hutch digging through their reports and asking questions, and the two detectives were often met with stony silences or barbed comments whenever they entered a room.

   "Man, I hope we get a break on this case soon," Starsky said as they came back to the squad room after lunch. "I don't know how much more of this I can take." He flopped down in his chair with a sigh.

   Hutch glanced back toward the elevator, where they had just had another run-in with two of the detectives from Davidson's squad. "Just ignore those guys, Starsk," he said. "Nobody ever said this job would be fun."

   "Yeah," Starsky said. "It's just that after stuff like that," he jerked his thumb toward the hallway and the elevator, "I'm starting to feel very alone."

   Hutch came and sat down on the edge of the desk, facing Starsky. "Hey, I know it's not much, but you've got me." His tone was light, but his blue eyes, as Starsky looked up to meet them, were serious.

   Starsky held his gaze steadily as he reached out and patted Hutch's knee. "I know, partner," he said. "And it's a lot."

   Hutch smiled as he stood up and went around to his own side of the desk, pausing to ruffle Starsky's curls as he passed.

   Starsky grinned back and started to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing of his desk phone. He reached for it automatically, still grinning at Hutch. "Starsky."

   "Uh...Hey, Starsky? This is Lennie. Umm...I hear you might be looking for a Narco cop on the take." Lennie's voice was low and shook slightly.

   Starsky gestured frantically for Hutch to pick up the extension. "What was that again, Lennie?" Starsky asked, as Hutch quietly put his phone to his ear.

   "Don't play dumb. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?"

   "That depends," said Starsky. "How do we know we can trust you?"

   "Oh, you can trust me alright," Lennie assured him. "I'm one of the guys that's been payin' him."

   "Paying who?" asked Starsky.

   "Not on the phone," Lennie said, his voice sounding tense. "Meet me tonight, nine o'clock, at Pier 25. Just you and your partner."

   Starsky looked at Hutch. Pier 25 was in the older part of the waterfront, and the buildings around it were mostly empty. Definitely not Starsky's idea of a safe meeting place, but since this was the first lead that had sounded even slightly promising, he knew they didn't really have a choice. Hutch met his eyes and nodded slightly.

   "Alright," Starsky told Lennie. "We'll be there. How do we find you?"

   "Don't worry, cop, I'll find you." With a click, the line went dead.

   Starsky raised his eyebrows at Hutch as they both hung up their receivers. "Well, Blondie? Feel like a little late night stroll along the waterfront?"

~~~~~~~~

   It was ten-to-nine when Starsky parked the Torino next to a storage shed near the edge of the pier. He and Hutch scanned the area, but saw no one.

   "Well, he said he'd find us," Hutch said. "I guess we wait."

   Starsky sighed. "Yeah."

   They sat staring out the windows for a few minutes, then Starsky broke the silence. "I don't like this, Hutch. It just doesn't feel right, ya know?"

   "I'm worried too, Starsk," Hutch said, turning to face his partner. "But this case has been going nowhere fast. If this guy's information is any good it may be just the break we need. Besides," he continued as headlights shone behind them, "I think it's too late to change our minds. Looks like he's here."

   Starsky grabbed his partner's arm as Hutch turned to get out of the car. "Hey."

   Hutch turned back to look at him, his eyebrows raised.

   Starsky looked into his eyes for a moment. "Be careful, okay?"

   Hutch smiled slightly and reached over to pat Starsky's arm. "Yeah. You too, partner. Let's go."

   The two detectives got out and walked toward the back of the car as Lennie climbed out of his dilapidated van. He slowly approached the partners, lighting a cigarette and looking worriedly around him.

   "Hey, guys, how's it goin'?" he said with a nervous smile.

   "Hi, Lennie," Starsky said. "What've you got for us?"

   Lennie hesitated. "You know, I'm risking a lot talking to you guys. I think I might need a little something to help me handle the stress." His eyes darted back and forth as he took a long drag on his cigarette.

   Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances, then Hutch rolled his eyes and reached for his wallet. Pulling out two, twenty-dollar bills, he handed them to the nervous man. "Here, Lennie. This oughta help you learn some relaxation techniques. Now quit stalling. Who're you paying?"

   Starsky found himself staring at Lennie as the drug dealer once again nervously looked around and over his shoulder. This turkey sure is awful nervous about something.

   Following Lennie's gaze, Starsky froze as he saw a shadowy figure move behind Lennie's van. Catching a slight movement from the corner of his eye, he turned his head and saw another figure standing up from behind some boxes, the unmistakable shape of a gun in his hand.

   "Hutch! Get down!" Starsky turned and tackled his partner to the ground just as the sound of gunfire ripped through the night. The two detectives scrambled for cover, Hutch behind a pile of crates next to the edge of the pier, and Starsky behind the front end of the Torino.

   Starsky pulled out his gun and returned fire, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of Hutch's Magnum as his partner also fired at the gunmen.

   Peering from behind the car, Starsky saw one man crouched behind a stack of boxes next to the storage shed. There was no sign of Lennie or the other gunman. Starsky carefully moved down the side of the Torino toward the gunman, wishing he knew how Hutch was doing. He restrained his urge to call out to his partner to avoid giving away their positions.

   Starsky had reached the rear of the Torino and carefully looked around the corner. The gunman was still crouched next to the building, his gaze focused toward Starsky's original position near the front of the Torino. Starsky stood up, his gun pointed at the shadowy figure. "Freeze! Police!"

   He ducked back behind the car as the gunman turned toward him and fired, then stood up again and fired his own gun, hitting the gunman in the chest. As he went forward to check on the man, Starsky heard the sound of sirens quickly coming closer. At the same time he heard Hutch's voice yell, "Police! Hold it!" followed by two gunshots.

   There was the sound of running feet, then Lennie's van roared to life and drove off with a squeal of tires. As it passed the two approaching patrol cars, one spun around and followed, while the second patrol car pulled up next to the Torino. The officers got out, guns pointed at Starsky.

   Starsky held up his hands, gun dangling loosely. "Hey, relax, guys," he called. "I'm a cop."

   "Put the gun down, sir," said one of the officers as he approached.

   Starsky rolled his eyes, but carefully bent down and placed his gun on the ground. "If you look in my jacket pocket, you'll find my badge," he told the officer as he straightened up.

   The officer reached into Starsky's jacket and pulled out his badge. He turned pale as he looked at it. "Sorry, Sergeant Starsky," he said apologetically as he handed the badge back. "We had a report of shooting out here. What's going on?"

   "Scumbag set us up, "Starsky said, scanning the area for Hutch and trying to suppress the worry growing in his gut. Where was his partner? Hutch should have showed himself by now.

   "Us?" questioned the uniformed cop.

   "My partner," Starsky answered, starting to run toward where he had last seen his friend. "Hutch?" he called. "HUTCH!"

   Starsky came around the corner of the pile of crates and skidded to a stop. There was no one there. "Hutch!" he called again, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

   Looking frantically around, Starsky spotted something lying on the pier near the edge. Coming closer, he saw that it was Hutch's gun. A horrifying thought occurred to him as he bent to pick it up.

   "I need a light over here, now!" he yelled.

   Both uniformed officers ran over, one carrying a large flashlight from the patrol car. Starsky grabbed it and shone the light down into the water off the edge of the pier, his breath catching in his throat as the light illuminated the sight of Hutch floating facedown in the water.

~~~~~~~~

   All around him was black, empty nothingness. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear. No matter which way he turned, he seemed unable to pierce through the thick darkness enveloping him. He was afraid, desperately searching for something to tell him he wasn't alone, wasn't forgotten. Then he felt it. A strong, familiar, comforting presence all around him. He clung to it as an anchor in the emptiness. 'Don't go. Please, stay with me.'

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky stared, horrified, into the water for a moment, then quickly handed the flashlight to one of the officers. "Call an ambulance!" he ordered.

   The other officer took off at a run as Starsky yanked off his jacket and gun and jumped into the chilly water.

   Coming to the surface, he coughed and sputtered, treading water as he looked around frantically for Hutch. He spotted him floating not far in front of him and quickly swam over, turning Hutch onto his back, his heart skipping a beat when he saw blood on the side of Hutch's head. Starsky quickly swam to the ladder at the end of the pier, carefully holding Hutch's head above water. The officer holding the flashlight climbed partway down, and together they managed to get Hutch to the top where the other officer had brought the patrol car closer to the edge to give them more light.

   Laying Hutch down on the pier, Starsky dropped to his knees beside his friend. Oh, please, please let him be all right, he prayed.

   "Hutch?" he said softly, shaking his partner's shoulder. "C'mon, babe, talk to me...Hutch?"

   Starsky's eyes widened in horror as he realized Hutch wasn't breathing. Checking for a pulse, he found it very slow and weak. Starsky started CPR, desperately trying to stop the panic rising within him.

   "The ambulance is on its way, Sergeant," one of the officers told him, coming over to help, but Starsky barely heard him. All his energy and attention were focused on Hutch, frantically trying to breathe life back into his best friend.

   To Starsky it seemed like forever, but it was only a matter of minutes before the ambulance pulled up, sirens blaring. One of the officers dragged Starsky back as the paramedics quickly took over. Starsky stayed close to Hutch as the paramedics worked, not even noticing when one of the officers put a blanket over his wet shoulders.

   The paramedics quickly moved to stabilize Hutch, inserting a breathing tube and starting an IV. Hutch's heart rate had improved, but his breathing was still shallow and erratic. The blood on his head came from where he had been grazed by one of the gunman's bullets.

   After a brief consultation with the hospital via the radio, the paramedics transferred Hutch to a stretcher and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Starsky handed the keys to the Torino to one of the officers and climbed into the ambulance with his partner. The paramedics frowned briefly at him, but the look on his face stopped any arguments.

PART TWO