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Soho

   "There he is!" Starsky was pointing from the seat of his red Torino at the fleeing suspect.

   "I'll get 'em, you call it in!" Hutch bolted from the car and ran full speed ahead towards the young man running with the handbag tucked under his arm as if it were a football...

   ...It was a beautiful day. The schools just let out for the summer, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was warm enough to draw the many young people out to the beach. Starsky and Hutch decided to cruise the area to keep an eye on things since large crowds tend to attract trouble. They were not on the scene very long before a distress call could be heard from a teenage girl on the strip. Her pocketbook had just been grabbed from her, she screamed at the man running off with it. It did not take the guys long to spot the suspect weaving in and out of the countless number of beach goers.

   Hutch's long legs, phenomenal speed and endurance were pivotal in quickly closing the gap between him and the suspect. They were on the beach, running down the boardwalk. "Freeze police!" The thief ignored the order. When Hutch got close enough, he executed a near perfect running tackle. The force of the tackle caused him to twist his body just enough to land him on his rear end and slide several inches across the wooden planks. Hutch's eyes lit-up and he bit down on his lip to prevent a painful grunt from escaping, he quickly regained his composure. Using a simple wrestling maneuver, Hutch rolled the suspect off him and face down on the boardwalk, then quickly snapped the cuffs on.

   By this time, Starsky had caught up with them. He grabbed the suspect and hauled him to his feet. "All right fancy pants, the jigs up, let's get going."

   Starsky started to lead the suspect back towards the car when he noticed Hutch pacing a small circle taking deep breaths.

   "You okay Hutch?"

   Hutch just nodded.

   "You sure? You don't look it. What's wrong?" Starsky asked with concern.

   "I...uh, think I just landed a bit hard." Hutch answered in a strangled voice. "I'm just walking it off, I'll be all right."

   Starsky quickly sat the suspect on the boardwalk.  "Stay there and don't even think about moving." He warned.  Starsky walked over to his partner and began pacing with him. "Is it your back again?"

   Hutch shook his head.

   "Then what, buddy? Talk to me. You need a doctor?"

   "I just banged myself up a little. I'll take a few aspirin and I'll be fine.  Now let's take Mr. Fancy Pants in before the statute of limitations run out on him." Hutch picked up the woman's purse and began walking back towards the car.

   Starsky reluctantly let the issue go...for the time being.

**********

   During the ride to the station, it was obvious to Starsky, the discomfort written across Hutch's face. The intensity of it increased with every bump they hit, occasionally forcing a slight grunt from the blond. Starsky put his hand on Hutch's arm. "Hutch, you're not okay. I'm gonna drop this guy off then we're going to the emergency room to have you checked out."

   "No." Hutch blurted out quickly. "I don't need a doctor, I can take care of myself."

   "Look at you Hutch, You've been leaning on your left side the whole ride and you're about to bite a hole in your lip.  Don't tell me you're not in pain cause I know you. You're being the stubborn blond headed blintz that you always are. Now we're going to see the doctor and that's that!  No more arguments."

   "I don't...."

   "Ah-ah!" Starsky held up a warning finger. "I said no more arguments, we're going!"

   "It's just a few splinters." Hutch said quickly before Starsky could cut him off again.

   "Hm?" Starsky cocked an eyebrow.

   Hutch shrugged and moved his hands in gesture.  "When I tackled Mr. Fancy Pants, I slid across the boardwalk and picked up a few splinters. I'll be okay, really."

   "Are you sure that's it? Just a couple of splinters?"

   "Yeah, that's it. No big deal. When we get back to the station, I'll walk down to the infirmary and have the nurse remove them."

   Starsky smiled, "You mean nurse Sharon with the short skirt and long legs?"

   "That's the one." Hutch grinned.

   "You lucky dog. I may turn this car around and go sliding across that boardwalk myself."

   "Hey! Get your own ploy, this one's mine!"

   Starsky laughed. "So tell me Romeo, where are these so-called splinters anyway?"

   The smile on Hutch's face disappeared and was replaced by a more uncomfortable look. "Uhh, they're mostly in my back, and I think there's one in my arm."

   "Is that it? No where else?"

   "That's it."

   Indeed there was a few pieces of wood right where Hutch said they were, however, he did not tell Starsky about the big one he felt in the right cheek of his butt. Starsky would never let him live it down. He intended to tell Sharon though.

**********

   Hutch knocked on the open door of the single bed infirmary. He poked his head in and looked around. "Sharon?" No answer. Hutch quietly walked into the empty room and looked around. Must've stepped out.  He marveled at all the medical equipment while he waited for Sharon to return.

   Hutch was leaning against the stretcher with his back to the door using a stethoscope to listen to his own heartbeat.  He did not hear the woman walking into the room until she was standing directly behind him.

   "Can I help you?"

   Hutch spun around to greet Sharon. He gasped. "Oh dear mother of...Bertha!" His eyes were nearly out of their sockets, his jaw hung open.

   "Detective Hutchinson, we meet again, I see."  The six foot four inch, three hundred pound women with fiery red hear tied in a bun, stood before him with the same expressionless look Hutch remembered so vividly. She took care of him while he was recovering in the hospital after rolling his car into a canyon. He thought she was every patient's worst nightmare come true.

   Hutchinson slowly backed his way towards the door with the stethoscope still dangling from his ears. "Wha, uh, what are you doing here? Where's Sharon?"

   "Sharon's out sick for the week. The hospital sent me here to fill in for her."

   "Oh." Was all Hutch could think of saying at the moment as he continued his backward motion towards the door.

   "Well, what do you want Hutchinson?  I haven't got all day."

   "Uh, nothing." He nervously smiled. "I'm all better now. See you later Bertha.  Much later." Hutch did an about face, tore off the stethoscope and ran for the door. On the way out he ran smack into Starsky. Starsky gripped him by the arms.

   "Whoa, Hutch, where ya going?"

   "As far away from here as I can get."  Hutch tried to pull away but Starsky only tightened his grip.

   "Wait a minute, wait a minute. I thought you were gonna let Sharon take care of you.  What happened?"

   "Bertha happened, that's what!"

   "Bertha?"

   "Yes Bertha, and I think I'll keep my splinters. Now let go of me." Hutch struggled once again to release himself from Starsky's grip, only to be held firmly in place by his partner.

   Starsky looked over Hutch's shoulder at the large woman sitting at her desk writing notes then back at his partner.  "Hutch, you really oughta get those splinters removed. Besides, Captain Dobey already has your incident report sitting on his desk.  He's gonna expect a follow-up from you."

   Hutch gave Starsky a desperate look and pleaded. "Yeah, but Starsk, not her, she's scary."

   "Don't worry about a thing, buddy, I'll be right here with you the whole time. Now come on, be a trooper."

   Hutch stared at Starsky for a few moments before slowly turning around to face Bertha. He smiled nervously again. "Uh, Bertha?"

   "What is it, Hutchinson? I'm very busy today so make it quick."

   "I have a few splinters in my back and I was wondering if..."

   "Take your shirt off and lay on the stretcher."  Bertha pointed to the lone stretcher with her pen, her eyes never leaving her chart.

**********

   Hutch laid on his belly propping himself up on folded arms.  He tried to remain perfectly still as Bertha worked at the stubborn splinters in his back. A bead of sweat formed above his upper lip as he bit back the pain.  A look of pain shot across his face, and a grunt escaped his lips with every splinter Bertha plucked out of him.

   Starsky sat on a metal stool talking to him in an attempt to distract him from it all.

   "How ya doing, pal?"

No answer.

   "Hurt much?"

Hutch only shook his head.

   "Coulda fooled me," Starsky stated with a small smile.

   Hutch just glared at him.

   "I'll tell ya what. After this, we'll head down to Huggy's and I'll buy ya a beer. Whatta ya say?"

   The blond patient just looked at him red-faced.

   "Hutch, you gotta breathe."

   Hutch let out a long breath he had not realized he was holding. His whole body seemed to deflate.

   "That was the last one, Detective Hutchinson."  Bertha stated as she swabbed the areas with alcohol.

   Hutch sucked in his breath at the slight stinging of the alcohol, then jumped off the table and began struggling into his shirt.  "Where do I sign?"

   "I said that was the last one. I didn't say you were done."

   Hutch froze while buttoning his shirt.  "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

   "According to my records, you're due for a tetanus shot."

   "No, I'm not. I just had one last year!" Hutch argued.

   "Not according to my records you didn't.  If it isn't written in these records," Bertha tapped her pen on a folder bearing Hutch's name, "then you haven't had one. I'll need you to drop your pants and lean over the stretcher."

   Hutch's eyes lit up as he watched Bertha draw up the clear liquid with the biggest needle he's swore he'd ever seen in his life.

   "No way! I'm outta here!" Hutch turned to go but Starsky grabbed him.

   "Com'on Hutch, it's just a little shot."

   "Just a little shot, huh? Then you take it. I'm gone." Hutch tried to get away again only to have Starsky stop him once more time. "Starsk, let go of me." Hutch warned.

   "Now Hutch, think about it. If word gets back to Dobey that you refused treatment, he's not gonna like it. Now be a good boy and take your medicine, huh? I'll buy you some ice cream when we're done." 

   Hutch looked at Starsky, then at Bertha, then back at Starsky. "I think I'd rather face Dobey, and you can stuff the ice cream."

   "Detective Hutchinson!" Bertha thundered. Both men jumped. "You have two choices. Either you get back here and take the injection peacefully, or I'll have no choice but to hold you down myself and give it to you. Your choice, but you're not leaving without your tetanus shot.  You wanna get lock-jaw or something?"

   "No," Hutch replied in a small voice.

   "Then get yourself over here and quit wasting my time!" Bertha demanded.

   "Go on, Hutch, we're all waiting." Starsky said with a grin.

   "Keep it up, smart ass," Hutch whispered as he made his way back over to Bertha. "Would you mind shooting it into my left side?"

   "Don't make a difference to me."

   Hutch pulled his shorts down just enough to expose his left cheek then leaned over the stretcher. Starsky winced when Hutch yelped as Bertha not-so-gently jabbed the needle into him.

**********

   Hutch was in his bathroom peering into the hand mirror at the two inch shard of wood in the right cheek of his butt.  He held a pair of tweezers in the other hand with the intentions of using it to remove the offending wood.   He worked unsuccessfully at it for over a half hour but it seemed to be embedded too far in for him to remove it himself. He was just about to make another attempt when the front door crashed in.

   "Huuutch!"

   Startled by Starsky's usual rude intrusion, he dropped the mirror, shattering it. "Shit!"  He quickly kicked the door shut and pulled his pants up. Starsky stood on the other side of the bathroom door.

   "Hey, Hutch, you okay in there? I thought I heard something break."

   "Uh, yeah, everything's all right, be out in a minute."

   Hutch flushed the toilet, washed his hands, then opened the door and calmly walked past Starsky.

   "What brings you here, Starsk?" Hutch innocently asked as he grabbed a broom and dust pan out from one of the closets.

   "I thought I'd see if you wanna go catch the Dodgers and Mets down at Huggy's. He's running a special on buffalo wings." Starsky peered into the bathroom at the shattered mirror scattered across the floor. He also noticed an open bottle of alcohol and box of cotton balls on the sink counter.

   "Oh, well, I'm kind of tired tonight.  I was just going to watch the news then go to bed early. Maybe tomorrow night." Hutch walked back into the bathroom and began sweeping up the pieces of glass.

   "You sure?"

   "Yeah, I'm sure."

   "Hey, you mind telling me what happened in here?"  Starsky queried.

   Hutch shrugged. "Nothing. Just had an accident and dropped the mirror.  I guess this means seven years of bad luck," he joked.

   "An accident, huh? Then what's with the alcohol and cotton balls?"  Starsky asked suspiciously.

   Hutch looked at the items in question, then back at Starsky. "Oh-um, I was just, uh, cleaning the areas where I had those splinters removed.  Can't be too worried about infection, you know."

   Hutch brushed past Starsky and into the kitchen to dump the shattered mirror in the trash. Starsky followed, taking notice of Hutch's funny walk. Something was not right, but he just could not put his finger on hit. He continued to pry.

   "Hutch?"

   "Hm?" Hutch tried acting as if nothing was wrong. He took a beer from the refrigerator, popped the top and took a long drink.

   "Wanna tell me why you're walking funny?"

   "Huh? Am I?"

   "Yeah. You really did hurt yourself today, didn't you?"  Starsky's suspicions now turned to concerns.

   "No, nothing more than those splinters."

   "Don't tell me it's just those splinters.  Something else is up and you're not being square with me. Why are you holding out on me? What if it's serious?"

   "It's not serious, Starsk."

   "Then tell me, Hutch," Starsky demanded in frustration.

   "It's just...well, there's one more splinter I didn't realize I had and I was just trying to remove it."

   "Oh? Is that it?"

   "Yeah, that's it."

   "Did you get it out?"

   "No, I was trying to do just that until you barged in here and made me drop my mirror," Hutch answered with a note of annoyance.

   "Oh, sorry about that."

   "That's okay, I have another one."

   "Well, while I'm here," Starsky took off his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves, "why don't you let me take a look at it since I'm in a better position than you are."

   Hutch quickly turned his back away from Starsky.  Starsky did not miss the uneasy look.

   "No, that's okay, I can do it. I wouldn't want you to miss your game and wings on account of me."

   "Hutch," Starsky asked, a little injured, "since when did you suddenly become afraid of me?  It's just a little splinter in your ba.... Wait a sec, Bertha took them all out of your back. I was there, I seen her do it myself."

   Hutch nervously played with the bottle in his hand.

   "It's not in your back, is it?" A smile slowly formed on Starsky's face.

   Red-faced, Hutch slowly shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the beer bottle.

   "It's in your butt, isn't it?" Starsky was grinning ear-to-ear now.

   "It's not funny, Starsk." Now fully embarrassed, Hutch brushed by Starsky and walked into the living room.

   Starsky followed him. He tried desperately to suppress his grin. "You're right, Hutch, it's not funny. So what are you gonna do about it?"

   "I'm gonna get it out. What do you think I'm gonna do about it?"

   "Want me to do it?"

   "NO!"

   "Hutch, you're um, really not in the position to do it yourself."

   "Then I'll just leave it there. It's only wood. The body will eventually digest it."

   "Oh come on Hutch, you can't do that. It's dirty wood, you'll get a nasty infection before that happens. Just let me look at it. It's not like I've never seen your ass before."

   "Well, it's not like you ever had your hands all over it before."

   "Yeah. But you may like it schweetheart," Starsky cracked, then threw him a wink.

   "Quit joking around, will ya? It's not funny, Starsk."

   "Okay, you're right. No more jokes, I promise. Now let me just look at it. It's either me or Bertha."

   Hutch shuddered at the thought of Bertha digging for the splinter. He sighed defeatedly.  "Well, okay, but no more jokes,"  Hutch warned.

   "No more jokes. Scouts' honor." Starsky was making a "V" sign with his fingers.

   Hutch slowly unbuckled his pants and pulled them down along with his shorts and turned his back towards Starsky.

   "Here, lean over the back of the sofa a little so I can get a good look."

   "Oh Jesus!" Hutch groaned, but obeyed. His humiliation deepened when Starsky quickly retrieved a flashlight from the living room closet, and shined it right on the area in question.

   Starsky took his time examining the position of the foreign body embedded deeply in the right cheek of his friend's rear end.

   "Are you enjoying yourself back there, Starsk?"  Hutch's question was full of sarcasm.

   "Never better, Hutch. This is the best piece of ass I've had in months."

   "All right! That's it!" Hutch quickly pulled up his pants up. "Party's over!  You can go now!"

   "I'm sorry, Hutch." Starsky felt a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  He tried hard to suppress it.  "You asked the question, I just couldn't help myself."

   "Yeah, well, you got your look, I'll take it from here.  Thanks for coming by!"

   "Wait a sec, Hutch. That splinter is two inches long and kinda deep.  You won't be able to get it out yourself."

   Hutch sighed. "Well, damn, now what am I suppose to do?"

   "That's what I'm here for, buddy."

   "Oh no! There ain't no way I'm letting you take it out!"

   "Hutch, I'm crushed, I'm really crushed.  I thought we were best friends?"

   "We are best friends, but...."

   "But you don't trust me."

   "I do trust you, but...."

   "Then let me help. I promise to be careful," Starsky said with sincerity.

   Hutch took a deep breath. "Well, I guess if it's a toss up between you and Bertha...."

   "Now you're thinking straight buddy."

**********

   Hutch, with his pants and underwear pulled down to his knees, lay prone on his bed with a pillow tucked under his chest, and his arms folded across it, propping him up.

   A set of tweezers soaked in a small bowl of alcohol, and the box of cotton balls sat next to it. Starsky moved a floor lamp from the living room into the bedroom for extra lighting, then sat on the edge of the bed.

   "Okay, Hutch, you ready for this?"

   "Just be careful back there."

   "Would I be anything less?"

   "Just get it over with. Will ya?"

   "On my way." Starsky soaked a cotton ball with alcohol and swabbed the affected area. 

Hutch jumped slightly at the touch.  "Oh geez, that's cold."

   "Gotta do it, the area is already red and a little puffy."

   "It is?" Hutch asked with concern.

   "Sure it is. Do you have any idea how many people, birds, dogs, and whatever else use that boardwalk everyday? No telling what kind of cooties are living in that wood."

   "Oh, just the kind of stuff I want to hear right now."

   Starsky dried the area then picked up the tweezers.

   Hutch closed his eyes and swallowed hard.  "Please be careful!"  Hutch pleaded.

   "Don't worry, TLC all the way babe.  Okay, hold on, here we go."

   Hutch gasped as the tweezers touched the skin. 

Starsky quickly pulled away.  "Did I hurt you?"

   "Damn, those things are cold and it's getting tender down there."

   "Oh, sorry. I'll try and be more careful."

   Very gingerly, Starsky grabbed the tip of the wood with the tweezers. "Got it."

   "Now be sure to pull it straight out.  Don't jiggle it or it'll break."

   "Okay, hold on, here we go." Starsky tugged at the splinter.

   "Ugh! Damn!"

   "Hang in there buddy, this thing doesn't want to move.  I'm gonna have to yank it out."

   "Shit!" Hutch grunted out.

   "Okay, on three I'm gonna do it. One..."

   Hutch closed his eyes and held his breath.

   "Two...three."

   "Ahhhhh shit! Ow!" Hutch buried his face in his pillow. After a few moments, he finally came up for air. "Is it out?" He gasped.

   "Well, uh, sort of."

   "What do you mean, sort of?"

   "Well, I got half of it. The rest is still in there."

   "You broke it? I told you to pull it straight out!"

   "I did, but you moved and it broke.  The rest is under the skin."

   "Shit! It is? Now what?"

   "Starsky thought for a moment. "I got it!" He snapped his fingers. "Don't move. I'll be right back." Starsky darted off into the living room.

   Hutch picked up the thick, one inch splinter Starsky left on the lamp table and examined it as he waited. "That's only half of it?" He mumbled to himself.

   Starsky quickly came back in the room and sat at the edge of the bed. "Okay, got it."

   "Got what?"

   "Um. Maybe you don't want to know."

   "Got what?" Hutch demanded.

   "Um, this." Starsky held up a huge sewing needle.

   "What the hell are you going to do with that thing?"

   "Ma used to remove my splinters with these when they were under the skin. She'd pass it through a flame then..."

   "No! No damn way! You're not sticking that harpoon in my ass!" Hutch rolled over to get up but Starsky rolled him back over.

   "Now look, Hutch, God knows this won't be easy for either of us, especially you, but, it has to come out. One way or the other."

   "Not with that thing it doesn't. I'm finished with this, let me up!" Hutch tried to roll over again, only to be pushed back down.  "Hutch, remember, me or Bertha, take your pick."

   Hutch turned his head and looked at Starsky.  He thought he detected a slight smirk on his partner's face. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

   "Not me."

   "The hell you aren't." Hutch sighed. "Just fuck'n get it over with."

   Starsky lit a candle to use for flaming the needle.  "Okay Hutch, just don't take any of this personally." Hutch's face was already buried in his pillow.  Starsky carefully pierced the opening of the splinter sight.

   Hutch's head shot up and his eyes grew to the size of golf balls. "Oh shit!" He cried out.  "Ah shit! Ah shit!" He held a death grip on his pillow.

   "Hold on buddy, I'm getting there."

   "Starsk, take it out, take the fuck'n thing out!  Oh shit! Oh damn!"

   "Deep breaths, Hutch, deep breaths. You're doing great!"

   "I'm not having a damn baby, ahhhhhh!  Com'on take it out!"  He pleaded.

   "Just a little more and I got it, just keep breathing."

   Hutch bit his lower lip as sweat rolled off his forehead.

   "Okay, I think I can grab it with the tweezers now."  Starsky pulled the needle away and Hutch collapsed on the pillow panting in relief. "You okay? You need a breather?"

   Hutch nodded, but said nothing.

   Starsky smiled and rubbed his friends back for a few minutes until he relaxed enough.

   "This last part ought to be quick. You ready pal?"

   Hutch nodded. "Remember, straight out, I don't think I can go through that needle torture again."

   Starsky took the tweezers and went back to work.  "Okay Hutch, I got a good grip on it.  Hold still now. On three."

   "Starsk, just pull the damn thing ouuuuuuuut!"  Hutch quickly jerked his head around to see Starsky grinning as he held the remainder of the splinter within the tweezers grasp.

   "Is that it?" He asked with a hopeful plea.

   "This is it."

   "All of it?"

   "All of it."

   Hutch took the tweezers from Starsky and examined the fragment. "On man, look at this thing, Starsk."

   "Um-hm, that's a lot of wood there.  Are you sure you left some on the boardwalk?"

   Hutch jumped from the sting when Starsky swabbed the tender area with alcohol.

   "Hey! Warn me before you do that, will ya?"

   "Sorry, but we gotta watch for those germies. Besides you're bleeding a little."

   "I am?" Hutch asked with concern.

   "Just a few drops, but we still need to be careful."  Starsky placed a small bandage on the wound. "Well there you go, ol' boy, and may I say, you are certainly one well-rounded person." Starsky gave the left cheek a soft smack, then stood up.

   "Ah! Careful! that's right where Bertha shot me!"

   "Oh, sorry."

   Hutch rolled over onto his feet and pulled his pants up.

   "Well? Feel better now, Hutch?" Starsky asked with a hopeful smile.

   "It's pretty sore but I'll be okay now.  Hey, uh, thanks a lot for taking care of that for me."

   Starsky draped an arm around Hutch's shoulders.  "Anything for m'pal."

   "Well, I'll make it up to you, Starsk. Let's go to Huggy's. The buffalo wings and beer are on me."

   "Now you're speaking my language."

   Both guys grabbed their jackets and headed for the door.

   "I bet it'll be standing room only down there."  Starsky complained.

   Hutch smiled. "That works for me."

THE END