A Psycho For Starsky - Part One
By
jmhenderson
Starsky sat across from Hutch, sipping beer and enjoying the festive people that walked about the bar, wearing Christmas tinsel in their hair and bells attached to their tennis shoes. In only ten days, Santa would do his thing.
That time of year already, he thought about the ‘decorating’ that they’d accomplished in Captain Dobey’s office only an hour or so ago. Damned they did good, from the lights that lined the entire office wall to wall to the cotton snowman that adorned the desk. Plastic reindeer sat in each of the chairs and glitter was everywhere. And lest we forget the mistletoe on top of the two doorways of his office. Perfection. Certainly he’d be having a cow upon his arrival tomorrow morning.
He saw his partner watching the ladies, paying particular attention to the one blonde that sat perfectly poised at the end of the bar. It was only a matter of time before he’d make his approach; maybe get lucky enough to have an evening with her. Hutch already looked smitten, and the object of his attention seemed willing to reciprocate. Ah, holiday cheer.
"Whatcha looking at?" Starsky teased.
"Huh?" Hutch began, having to force himself to look in his friend’s direction, "What?"
"The lady?" Starsky said, looking over at her as she contentedly looked at Hutch, who was now looking her way again.
"Yeah? Hmm, uh, what was that, Starsk?"
"Oh, I was just talkin’ ‘bout spreading a little Christmas cheer, that’s all."
"Yeah, I think I should maybe, you know, get in the spirit of things," Hutch said, smiling broadly as he tipped his glass towards the lady.
"Since when?"
"Since I think I might have just found some good use for mistletoe," he said, looking back at Starsky with what could only be described as a mischievous grin.
"I’ve been under the mistletoe plenty of times, and I ain’t seen you smooching towards me," Starsky sneered.
"You weren’t wearing the right shade of lipstick, pal."
"Oh."
Starsky looked around the bar, hoping for some prospects of his own since he knew his friend would probably abandon him at any given moment. That’s when he spied the redhead in front of the pinball machine.
As Hutch got up and fumbled his excuse for leaving by means of another beer, Starsky decided to walk on over and introduce himself. Inching himself within enough distance for his warm breath to brush against her ear, he whispered his ‘hello’.
He expected her to flinch, jump, or simply be startled by his approach, but instead, she surprised him.
"Hello yourself, officer."
Starsky grinned, thinking she might have already asked Huggy or someone about who he was, letting the idea stroke his ego.
She finished her round with the ball, then turned to face him. Her smile was warm and friendly, her face had a rosy glow, and, damn! She looked familiar.
"I know this is gonna sound like the corniest line, but don’t I know you?"
She grinned mischievously. "Yes, you do."
Keeping his lopsided grin, his eyes showed the search in his mind, trying to figure out from where he’d met this gorgeous creature before.
"I’m sorry, but I just can’t figure out from where …"
"It’s okay," she began, "I’ll give you a little hint." She pulled her hair back and grabbed the glasses that sat on the glass top of the pinball machine, putting them on while her eyes remained locked with his. She watched as realization struck.
"Caroline? From R & I Caroline?"
She shook her head in agreement. "Yes, it’s me," she smiled, taking the glasses off and turning back towards her game.
"Wow, that uniform doesn’t do you any justice. And you should wear your hair down more often. Wow!"
Caroline felt the blush rise to her face. "Thanks," she said quietly.
"Not that you don’t look good at work too, I mean, but, well, I mean … Look it, can I start over here?" he pleaded.
She let the pinball machine run its’ ball through and turned back to face him.
"Start what?"
All Starsky could do was grin, albeit mischievously.
~~~~~~~~~~
All things went as everyone would have well imagined. Hutch and his new lady friend danced to every slow song that he could get played on the jukebox. Starsky became Caroline’s challenger, swearing he’d beat her at pinball, no matter how many attempts it took. And Huggy watched his friends, shaking his head now and then at their more than predictable ways. Maybe there was still hope for them yet, being this close to Christmas and all.
As it became closer to closing time, Starsky and Hutch had introduced each other to their acquaintances then parted their ways. Each on his own. Good thinking on both their parts to drive separately for just such occasions.
"So, where ya wanna go? Can I give you a ride home? Maybe find someplace that’s still open …" Starsky began, not knowing what approach to take, but wanting to make it clear that he didn’t want the evening to end.
"We can go to your place. Or mine." She said, grinning almost shyly.
He returned the gesture.
~~~~~~~~~~
They ended up going to his place, soft innuendoes fluttering into their conversation during the drive there.
Once they arrived, it was hard to tell just who initiated what. Lips began kissing, hands began feeling, and arousal turned swiftly into passion that in turn became need, which Caroline and Starsky turned into one hell of a night with many, many highlights.
The next morning Starsky awoke to the smells of food being cooked in his apartment. He grinned. Had to be Caroline. Had to be that woman that hid so much passion behind those mousy glasses and that shy persona. Hell, she wasn’t shy at all, given the right opportunity. Starsky grinned as he got up, putting on his shorts before heading into the kitchen.
Breakfast was put on hold as he enjoyed the woman who gave him so much pleasure the night before. It was a good thing the kitchen table had not been set just yet.
~~~~~~~~~~
When Starsky arrived at work slightly later than Hutch, it was certainly no surprise to anyone.
"That’s quite a goofy grin you’ve got there," Hutch told him, smiling.
"Yeah, you’ve got a sorta glow about you, too," Starsky answered, pouring himself a cup of coffee to go with his smirk.
"Have a good night?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah. ‘Tis the season," Starsky leered, making both men chuckle.
~~~~~~~~~~
By the end of their day, both had discussed their closed case, who would do the paperwork, and who’d had the better evening between the two of them.
"So, what are ya gonna do this weekend?" Starsky asked as he peeked at Hutch over the typewriter.
"Oh, well, uh, Shelly said something about a picnic."
"Little cold for a picnic this time of year, ain’t it?"
"Who said it was going to be outside?" Hutch grinned mischievously.
Starsky smiled as the ‘Ahh’ escaped him.
"And you?" Hutch asked nonchalantly.
"Oh. Well, I think I might call Caroline tomorrow, see if she wants to catch a movie or something."
"With tendencies towards the ‘or something’ I’m betting," Hutch teased.
Starsky flashed his friend a wide grin as he pulled the finished report from the typewriter. "Ready to go home? I don’t know about you," he said stretching as he stood up, "but I’m beat."
"Yeah, me too. Ready when you are.’
~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing Starsky did when he got home was take off his jacket and hang it on the coat rack along with his holster and gun. Unbuttoning his shirt, he walked in the kitchen and grabbed a beer, drinking from it as he inspected the contents of his near-empty refrigerator. Opting for pizza delivery, he placed the call then went quickly in for a shower.
When he was done, he came out in his robe with the near-empty bottle in hand and turned on the television. As soon as he seated himself comfortably on the couch there was a knock on the door, making him jump as he realized dinner had arrived.
He retrieved his wallet from the bedroom and walked rapidly to the door, opening it with a grin. He was very surprised at the sight before him.
"Hi there," Caroline said, satisfied as Starsky’s jaw dropped.
Dressed in a black silk dress with make-up tastefully done and high heels of black straps, she tilted her head slightly, letting the curls from her professionally done hair fall around her shoulder. She held the pizza box up towards him, then gave him an all-too innocent look.
"Did you order a pizza, Mister?"
"Uh, yeah. How’d you know?" Starsky asked, dumbfounded at the gorgeous lady standing in front of him.
"I took a chance," she began, walking past him as he moved aside, giving him the aroma of not only the hot pizza, but the hot lady’s perfume. "I was coming over to see if I could talk you into going out tonight when I saw the kid drive up with the pizza. I sort of intercepted him. I figured that after last night, the least I could do was buy you dinner."
"Well," Starsky began, grinning as he closed the door behind her, "You look more tempting than that pizza, lady. I may just have to give ya a tip."
Caroline put the box on the bar and turned around, pulling him into her as she kissed him gently at first, then deepened it as moments went by. "I expect a very large tip," she cooed between kisses.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning Starsky woke up to the unbearable sound of the phone ringing, and gently disengaged himself from the woman he was wrapped around. Catching it on the second ring, he was grateful he hadn’t fully awakened the beauty beside him.
"H’lo," he grumbled into the phone, focusing on the clock, which read 9:05am.
"You still asleep old man?" Hutch asked with a voice that was much too awake and cheerful.
"Uh, yeah, we are."
"Oh. We?"
"Uh huh. Caroline came by."
"Oh."
There were a few moments of silence before Starsky finally spoke. "Hey, it’s your dime. What’d ya call for? Something going on?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. Me and Shelly are going Christmas tree shopping and I .."
"You?" Starsky asked incredulously, "You’re going tree shopping?"
"Not for me, for her," Hutch said indignantly, "I told her I’d help her, and knowing you, I figured you’d want to go too, but, I guess you’ve got plans …"
"When are you two going?"
"In a few hours."
"Yeah, I can make it, maybe talk you into getting’ a tree for yourself. If nothing else it’ll impress your girlfriend," Starsky sneered, "I’ll see ya around noon then."
"Okay pal, but don’t think you’re talking me into any of your …"
"I know, lemme guess, ‘euphoric sentimentalism’?"
"Mm-hmm. None of that. See you later."
"Yeah, bye."
Starsky hung up the receiver and looked around, catching the gaze of green eyes looking back at him.
"Morning," he grinned.
"Good morning," she grinned back, kissing him on his nose. "You going somewhere?"
"In a few hours. Hutch is getting a Christmas tree for his lady friend, and I’m gonna see if I can’t talk him into one for his place," he told her reciprocating the kiss on her nose.
"But you don’t have a tree yourself," she said, kissing him on his cheek.
"That’s okay, if I can talk him into one, I can enjoy his and drive him crazy," he said, kissing her back on her cheek.
"Maybe Santa will bring you a tree, if you’re a very, very good boy," she told him, kissing him lightly on his lips.
"Maybe I’d rather be bad right now," he grinned, grabbing hold of her as he gave her a deep, soul-wrenching kiss, letting her know clearly his intentions.
~~~~~~~~~~
Starsky smiled as he almost danced around the four-foot tree that stood in Hutch’s apartment. Fully decorated right down to the candy canes, he placed the star they’d just bought on top and nodded to Shelly to plug in the lights. It was beautiful; there was just no denying that.
Hutch just glared at his partner, forcing a smile whenever Shelly would look his way.
"Well, my work here is done. Guess I’ll go home and catch up on stuff," Starsky said as he grabbed his jacket. "Love your tree. Makes the whole place look so Christmasy and all," he teased, opening the front door.
"Yeah, Starsk. We’ll discuss all your input later!"
Starsky began a chorus of "Jingle Bells" as he closed the door behind him. Walking down the stairs, he was caught off guard with a yawn that escaped him, and thought how at least tonight, he’d be sure to catch up on some sleep.
His first stop was at a fast food Mexican restaurant, getting himself some take-out. Then when he was almost home he stopped at the Gulf station, grabbing some milk as he paid for his gas and flirted with Jennie, the cute little cashier who’d caught his eye about a month ago. Grabbing the mistletoe that hung over the door of the tiny convenience store, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then drove home.
By the time he arrived at his doorstep, he was feeling a bit exhausted and very grateful to be home.
Walking in the door, the first thing he did was flip on the light switch that powered the lamp in his living room. His jaw dropped open as a huge smile took over the look of shock that first came to him.
There in the middle of the living room sat a gorgeously tall and hugely fat Christmas tree. It was decorated with hundreds of colored lights and glass snowflakes and icicles, with garland draped all around it along and other various decorations. There were stockings hung around the window sill, and large red candles with greenery encircling them on every table and shelf. The only thing missing was his train set.
"Wow," he said in awe.
He immediately went to the telephone and dialed the number he knew by heart, smiling broadly into the receiver, waiting for his call to be answered.
"Hello?"
"Aww Hutch, I can’t believe you arranged this, I mean, I’m touched. I’m really touched!" Starsky said, beaming.
"Who’s touching you, pal?" Hutch asked innocently.
"You know what I’m talking about, ya blond Blintz. You and your euphoric sentimentalism."
"Starsky, what are you talking about?"
"I’m talking about you arranging for me not to be home all day with you so you could send over an elf or two to put up this tree. It looks really great, too."
"What tree? Starsk, I didn’t send anyone over there today. What are you talking about?"
Starsky sat down on the sofa, looking at the tree with confusion. "Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?"
"Did what?"
"Hutch, I got a Christmas tree sitting here in the middle of my living room that would put the White House tree to shame. The whole place is decorated to the hilt," he said, looking around.
"Maybe Santa came early," Hutch said, obviously smirking.
Starsky thought back to his conversation that morning with Caroline, a look of bewilderment crossing over his face.
"Yeah, maybe. Sorry to bother ya … uh, continue on with what I interrupted."
"Starsk?"
"Yeah?"
"You all right?"
"Oh yeah, I’m fine. And obviously I’ve been a very good boy from the looks of things. Night Hutch."
"Yeah, talk to you tomorrow."
He sat there, staring at the phone. He picked it up twice, ready to call Caroline and berate her for intruding, for assuming she was welcome to come and go as she pleased when in fact, she was not. But he knew his anger was getting the better of him. He was tired and he was hungry and yelling at her was not going to change what had already been done.
Walking away from the phone, he headed into the bathroom.
Tomorrow would be another day and he’d make his decision then.
~~~~~~~~~~
Starsky didn’t wake up until almost 11am, sleeping soundly as he was finally able to play ‘catch-up’ on his past days of missed rest. He stood and stretched, feeling the aches of muscles that felt as if cement had taken them over in his sleep.
As he walked into the kitchen to start the coffee, he looked around at all the Christmas decorations that surrounded him in the daylight. Lots of work and effort had gone into this ‘surprise’, yet he fought the urge to be angry. She’d obviously let herself in. Breaking and Entry. He was a mix of emotions as he argued the situation over in his mind. The same arguments he’d had the night before.
Should he call her? And then what; should he thank her or berate her for the intrusion? He shook his head silently, opting to start gathering laundry and get his house straight before going back to work tomorrow, knowing he’d figure out some way to thank her and let her know he didn’t appreciate the coming in without permission part.
~~~~~~~~~~
By the time he’d finished putting his laundry away and cleaned out the fridge and scrubbed out the shower stall, it was almost 7pm. Damn the time had flown by. Already it was dark outside and he still hadn’t decided on what approach to take with Caroline. He enjoyed her company, for sure, but was slightly alarmed by the extravagance she’d bestowed upon him, and still not keen on the idea of her just breaking into his apartment.
He sat on the sofa, weighing the pros and cons of the conversation he was getting ready to initiate when he finally sighed, knowing he was going to have to make that call and resigned to just do it. He turned himself to face the phone, looking all over for the address book he kept there. As he realized it wasn’t there, he got up and began looking around on the floor, figuring it had to be there or somewhere nearby.
He was down on his knees reaching under the sofa in hopes of finding it when the phone rang.
"Ouch!" he scoffed, slamming his head into the underside of the table. Rubbing the bump on his head, he reached for the phone.
"Hello?"
"David!" the voice was just a whisper, barely audible.
"Hello, who’s this?" he asked, standing up as he tried to hear.
"David, it’s Caroline," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Caroline, what’s wrong?"
"Someone’s trying to break into my house! I fell asleep on the sofa and when I woke up, I heard someone jiggling the door! I cut the lights on but he’s still trying to come in!" she hissed quietly into the phone.
"Where do you live?"
"654 Village Park Drive."
Suddenly he could hear the sound of glass shattering as Caroline screamed. "Oh my God! He’s coming in David!" her voice was panicked, then he heard the phone drop to the floor.
"Caroline? Caroline!"
Starsky dropped the phone and grabbed his gun and holster, then snatched up his jacket and got the keys out from its’ pocket as he ran outside towards the Torino.
He called Hutch over the radio, dispatch sending the call through to his partner’s home, then he radioed for back up as he raced his car towards her residence. Since it was closer to Hutch’s apartment, Hutch got there within seconds of Starsky’s arrival.
Just as she’d said, the lights were on throughout the inside of the six room dwelling, and they found her front door slightly ajar, a pane of glass broken through on it’s frame. The place was eerily quiet.
Guns drawn, Starsky and Hutch entered cautiously, finding the place completely askew.
"Caroline? Caroline?" Starsky yelled, his face filling with worry; more so at getting no response.
Both men looked at one another, nodding in silence at each other’s next move. Hutch turned and walked towards what looked to be the bedroom, while Starsky made his way into the kitchen.
"I got blood," he said in monotone towards his partner’s direction. Hutch quickly went over the bedroom then joined Starsky in the kitchen.
"Caroline?" Starsky called again, checking inside the pantry, which was half opened. Both men caught each other’s eye when they heard a moan coming from the direction of the back door.
There was a door beside the kitchen door that the voice had apparently come from. They were able to distinguish from which door the voice came after another low moan sounded.
Each man readied themselves, and Starsky grabbed the door handle. When Hutch nodded, he swung the door open, revealing a stairway which lead to the basement.
"David …" Caroline’s voice called to him weakly.
Hutch turned on the light switch beside the staircase, revealing the dankness as cold, moist air crept up around them. Seeing no one, they descended the stairs.
"Caroline!" Starsky yelled, seeing her form crumpled in a corner, as if hiding from her attacker. "Oh my God," he spoke softly, bending himself down beside her.
"I’ll call for an ambulance," Hutch said as he quickly rechecked the area, confident that no one else was there.
As Hutch raced up the stairs, Starsky gently rolled Caroline over on her back, revealing the multiple stab wounds inflicted into her torso. Her arms were also cut and bleeding, as if they’d been used for defense until she could not endure her attacker any further.
"Caroline, honey, can you hear me?" Starsky asked, wincing at the bloody mess before him.
"David .." she whimpered, letting her eyes open slowly, as if still unsure if he was really there or not.
"I’m here, honey, I’m here. Who did this to ya, hmm?" he asked, wondering if she’d live long enough to tell him.
"She said … she couldn’t let anyone get near her man any longer. She, she was talking about you, David …"
"She?" he asked, stunned by the words.
"God it hurts," Caroline whispered, and he pulled her to him, gently cradling the form he held with anguish.
"Ambulance is on the way Starsk," Hutch said, descending the stairs two at a time as he ran over towards them. Kneeling down beside his partner, his face pained as he reached for a pulse. Sirens could be heard outside as she opened her eyes again.
"Some Christmas, huh?" she said, eyes opening again with half a grin on her face as shock took over and her pain began to fade.
"Yeah," Starsky began, "that tree’s really nice, I like it a lot, ya know? You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, but …"
"What tree?" she asked weakly.
Hutch got up when he heard the footsteps upstairs as officers arrived on the scene, and went up to bring the paramedics down upon their arrival.
As he and the paramedics descended on Starsky and Caroline, the look Starsky gave him told him all he needed to know.
Too late.
~~~~~~~~~~
Starsky sat at his desk in the precinct, lost in a world of his own as he played with the coffee cup in front of him. Dobey and Hutch kept watch on him as they talked in whispers.
"So she said a woman did this to her? And she was doing it to keep her away from Starsky? I don’t like this, not one bit."
"Neither do I," Hutch began, "and even more so, someone let themselves into his apartment and put up that Christmas tree, and it wasn’t Caroline. I’d say whoever it is has to know him pretty well to do all that decorating and not be worried about him coming back home and catching them."
"How’s he holding up?" Dobey asked, worry washing over his face as he watched the silent detective.
"He’ll make it. I’m going to take him back to my place, see if I can talk him into getting some sleep. Maybe we can figure out who this psycho is before she does any more damage."
"All right. If you need anything, give me a call."
Hutch nodded at his Captain, then walked over to Starsky, who was staring at the coffee mug intently.
Dobey watched as Hutch broke his spell, talking gently to him as he got Starsky to get up and walk out with him. He shook his head with worry, thinking of what else would come of all this. Grabbing his coat and hat, he too left, not leaving the sinking feeling in his gut behind.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I’m going to take you by your place so you can get a change of clothes and whatever you need and bring you back to my place, okay?" Hutch asked, driving with one eye, the other on his too-quiet best friend.
"I want my car," Starsky shrugged.
"It’ll be fine at the station, don’t worry."
"It should be with me."
Hutch sighed, letting his friend worry over the Torino while denying the guilt that was plaguing him over Caroline’s death.
Normally Hutch would have sat in the car while Starsky went into his place to get a few things, but not this time. Some nutcase was easily maneuvering herself in and out of the place, and could just as easily be waiting for him.
They both went in without incidence, except for Starsky’s constant bickering over all the fingerprint dust that was everywhere. The first thing Dobey had done was order the place dusted, and it had been; thoroughly.
Once they were back in the car, Starsky broke their quiet contemplations.
"I don’t like feelin’ like I gotta be kept. It ain’t right, me being away from my own home. I’m not scared to be here, hell, I want that bitch to show up," he said as he slammed his fist on the glove compartment.
"Starsk, come on now, at least let’s get that tree out of there and look into who’s doing all this. Man, I know what you’re feeling, but if you don’t get some rest you’re never going to be able to think clearly …"
"That girl just lost her life because of me! How the hell could you possibly think you know …" Starsky’s words stopped suddenly, realizing that Hutch did indeed know the guilt of losing someone on his behalf. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have …"
"It’s okay," Hutch began, "We’ve both made it through worse; we’ll get through this, too." He paused for a moment, waiting for Starsky’s eyes to meet his. When they did, he grinned and started the engine.
As they drove away and down the now quiet streets, both men’s attention suddenly turned towards the gas station around the corner, where the flashing red lights of police cars and an ambulance blocked all entrances.
"What the hell?" Hutch asked, pulling the car over as he and Starsky got out, pulling out their badges and holding them in view as they walked through the police line.
Starsky shuddered as the cold air encircled him and dread took hold.
Inside the small convenience store, an ambulance attendant was just covering the body, which lay across the stretcher. Starsky walked over, gently lifting the sheet that covered her.
"Oh God, no …"
"Starsk? You alright? Starsky?" He didn’t hear the words, but he felt the comforting hand that laid gently on his shoulder.
"That’s Jennie. She and I’ve been kinda flirting around for about a month, she … shit!" Starsky suddenly yelled, turning away as he rushed out of the Gulf station.
~~~~~~~~~~
Hutch watched as his friend sat across from him at the table, playing with his spoon in swirling motions in the soup that Hutch had put in front of him. He’d smelled it, but hadn’t tasted it.
Finally he got up from the table, a look of apology glanced towards his friend as he walked in and turned on the television. Flipping through all the channels, he found nothing but snow on the screen as he realized it was too late for anything to be on. Resigned, he walked over to the sofa and fell into it, slouching into a silent funk.
Hutch had meanwhile put the bowls and glasses in the sink and walked into his bedroom, coming back out in his robe.
"I’m going to take a shower. You’ll be okay?" he asked, looking down at the back of his partner’s head. When it nodded silently, he sighed, going into the bathroom as he wished there was something he could do.
The shower felt warm and invigorating as he stood there, letting the water pulse against his skin. It was the most he’d relaxed all evening, and it felt good to finally let his guard down, no matter how briefly.
When he’d finished, he walked back out into the quiet living room, finding Starsky stretched out, somewhat uncomfortably, but asleep nonetheless. He pulled the blanket from the corner of the sofa and covered his best friend before heading into the bedroom. Looking at the clock, he realized that in only a few hours daylight would be streaming in. Once he laid down, all other thoughts left as sleep took over easily.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Hutch found Starsky awake, showered, and sitting at the table, sipping on coffee, which steamed in, is cup.
"Morning. How are you feeling?" Hutch asked, grabbing a cup and pouring coffee for himself. He held up the coffeepot towards Starsky, who shook his head ‘no’ at the offer.
"I’m on the second pot already."
Hutch sat down across from him. "How are you holding up?"
"I’m doing okay. Been going over stuff in my head, trying to figure something out. So far I haven’t come up with much."
"You hungry?" Hutch asked, hoping for an answer he knew he wouldn’t get.
"Nah. I want to get back over to my place, get it cleaned up."
Hutch sighed. "Yeah, we can do that, just let me get dressed, okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
~~~~~~~~~~
The tree had been tossed and the decorations had all been gathered and disposed of; well, sort of. Hutch called Huggy, having one of his friends with a truck come and pick everything up, taking all of it down to the mission. At least giving someone good use of it all. Once the apartment was straight and cleaned of all dust and any signs of what had been there, Hutch began rummaging through the refrigerator.
"You got anything nourishing in here?" he asked, peeking over the door at his partner.
"Doubt it," Starsky answered, looking around the floor of the living room.
"What are you looking for?"
"My address book. Ain’t seen it in a couple of days, and it doesn’t look like it’s anywhere around here. You think …"
"Who all do you have in that book, Starsk?" Hutch asked, concern crossing his face as he stood, closing the refrigerator door.
"Everybody I’ve ever met the past five or six years," Starsky sighed.
Both men looked at each other with a knowing glance between them.
The silence that fell broke when the phone rang.
"Yeah, what?" Starsky asked, his tone disgusted by the thoughts now plaguing him. "Uh, alright, we’ll be right there," he looked at Hutch and then slowly hung up the receiver. "Dobey wants to see us back at the station."
"Did he say what for?"
"Nope. He didn’t have to. We’re meeting him in the morgue."
~~~~~~~~~~
Starsky sat in the booth at Huggy’s, staring into space, lost in thought, grieving, feeling a guilt that although he knew he shouldn’t, was there nonetheless.
"Hey man, I ain’t seen that partner of yours this way since Gunther made his presence known. This shit’s hitting him pretty hard, ain’t it?" Huggy asked, putting two beers up on the bar in front of the blond.
"Well," Hutch began, looking back from his partner to Huggy, "seems this psycho has Starsky’s address book, and we just went down to the morgue and identified the latest victim in his name."
"Man, that’s rough. Anybody I know?" Huggy asked, waving away Hutch’s hand with the five-dollar bill in it.
"Yeah, Sylvia, the brunette that he used to bring in here when I was dating Keri."
"When did it happen?"
"Looks like last night. Used her head for baseball practice."
"Well, I hate to sound ungrateful, but what are you guys doing here? I mean, shouldn’t he be somewhere holed up, in case the psycho starts coming after him?"
"Well, Dobey is sending us a little diversion, hoping we can distract the killer from his address book."
"Yeah, and what kind of distraction are we talkin’ about?"
"That kind," Hutch said, pointing towards the front door of the Pits. "Maybe you should get me another beer, huh Hug?" Hutch said, bringing the proprietor’s attention back to him.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Right."
~~~~~~~~~~
Officer Hudgins walked slowly into the bar, seeing her objective sitting all alone in a corner booth. Dressed casually, her long blandish-blonde hair wrapped around both shoulders as she walked impressively towards him. She sat across from him in the booth, smiling.
"Hello, Detective."
"I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit," he said as Hutch came back over, putting the beers down then getting a chair from another table and pulling it up to the booth.
"Well, I’m only here to do my job. With or without your approval," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Come on, Starsk," Hutch spoke gently, looking from his friend to the lady. "How are you doing, Miranda?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"I’m fine. A bit nervous, but fine. This is quite a step up from writing tickets every day."
"Like stepping from the lion’s den straight into the pit," Starsky said lowly, sipping his beer. "Look, it’s not that I got anything against ya, it’s just that I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt because of me," he said, looking sincerely into the feminine eyes in front of him.
"I know, and I understand, really. That’s why I’m here," she said, looking at him intently.
Starsky looked from her then to Hutch, who gave him a look that told him he couldn’t argue with the lady.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, what are we going to do for fun?" Miranda asked, looking around Starsky’s apartment then back at him.
"I dunno, guess I could order up some dinner, ain’t got much in the fridge," Starsky said, taking off his jacket then hanging his with hers on the coat rack.
"Pizza?" she asked. Starsky smiled.
"A lady after my own heart."
~~~~~~~~~~
Hutch pulled the LTD in front of Venice Place, frowning as he got out from the car and heard thunder in the distance. The wind was shifting, and most certainly a storm would be coming soon. He walked up the stairs to his apartment, ready for some quiet time.
Somehow he felt that he and Starsky were missing something that was most likely right in front of their noses, and it nagged at him, forcing him to concentrate too hard on everything. A little rest and maybe he’d get it figured out. Or not.
He looked at the clock; four hours until he would get up and go back to Starsky’s place. He didn’t want Starsky to be alone, even if there were cops around, watching. Dobey’s plan sounded good when he told it, but still, he worried nonetheless.
~~~~~~~~~~
Hutch woke up to the thunder that boomed overhead, clapping loudly as lightning lit up the apartment with sparks of fire all around him. He sat straight up, startled into awareness, and flipped the light switch beside him. Nothing. The power was out.
He mumbled a curse to himself as he fumbled until he found the wind-up clock, turning it sideways until the light from the storm lit the room just enough for him to see. He’d only been asleep for an hour and a half, but at the rate this storm was going, he knew there was no point in trying for more.
Lightning flashed through the apartment again, and Hutch saw where his clothes were well enough to put on his pants and walk towards the kitchen. Fumbling around as he felt his way through one of the drawers, he found the matches he was looking for. He then headed towards the table, hoping to find the candles he knew were set in the middle of it. Instead his toe found the leg of the table, making him curse openly in tones matched only by the roar of the thunder outside.
Knocking almost everything down on the table, he somehow managed to find one of the candles as he heard it rolling towards him.
That was really all he remembered, other than the flash in front of him when the gun went off.
~~~~~~~~~~
When Hutch began coming to, he found himself vaguely aware of the voice that called his name; coming to him in drifts like waves washing up on shore. He let his mind wander to the beach until he heard the voice calling him again.
As he became more aware of things, he also began noticing the stabbing, searing pain in his head. As he opened his eyes, he found the light compounded the throbbing in his skull, making him squint as he tried to focus on the image of David Starsky.
"Come on, you can look at me: I don’t look that bad. C’mon Hutch, open your eyes, will ya?"
Blinking profusely, Hutch looked around the placid room until he saw the dark brown curls that leaned over him, and once focused, saw the worried blue eyes that stared down.
"Hey," Starsky smiled, "how’re you feeling?"
Hutch’s moan was his answer. He looked around through the small slits of his eyelids that he allowed light to filter in before returning a confused look to his best friend.
"What the hell am I doing in a hospital?"
Starsky’s face was defined between worry and anger. "Seems my secret admirer doesn’t like you, either. Tried to shoot you sometime last night in your apartment. Remember anything?"
"Last night? How long have I been out?"
"Twelve hours," Starsky began, looking at his watch, "Nope, better make that fourteen. Do you remember anything?"
Hutch’s face was filled with confusion, and he rubbed it, noticing the I.V. attached to his arm when he did so. "No."
"Just as well. Not every day that someone takes aim at that thick skull of yours," he smiled wearily.
Hutch reached towards his head, feeling the bandages that were wrapped around more than forty percent of his scalp. "How do you know it was her?"
"Well," Starsky began, pulling down the bedrail and sitting down beside his partner, "Seems the power went out because of the storm, and the folks downstairs in the restaurant were sitting around, waiting for it to come back on so they could clean up and go home. They heard the gun going off and thought maybe lightning had struck upstairs. Your landlord started heading up about the same time she was coming down. She practically knocked him back down the stairs running down 'em."
Hutch tried to sit up, but his head began throbbing more than he thought possible, and he let Starsky gently guide him back down.
"Hey, don’t do that. I don’t think I can deal with seeing you hurting more than you already are right now."
Hutch grinned slightly at him. "Was he able to get a description of her?"
"Said she was definitely female, and he’s pretty sure she’s blonde, but first she blinded him with her flashlight, then knocked his right out of his hands rushing past him."
Hutch looked at his best friend more closely. The dark circles under his eyes told of his lack of sleep, and he could read the worry clearly in the furrow of his brows just as easily as he knew his own name.
"You need to rest." Both men spoke the exact same words at the same time with exactly the same tone of concern, making them smile at one another. There was a long paused silence before Starsky finally spoke, almost whispering as he tried to keep his composure.
"When Miranda left last night and got home alright, I thought I could finally rest. You know how Dobey’s got an unmarked car watching her place and mine, too. So I laid down on the sofa - crashed, ya know?" He paused, as if trying to keep his composure. "When I got the call and they told me you’d been shot, I, I thought I’d lost you, too." He rubbed his face with both hands, trying not to let the pain show through. When he looked back down at Hutch again, he could see the same pain as in his eyes, as if looking into a mirror.
"We’ll be okay, you know. And we’ll catch her and stop this craziness before anyone else gets hurt," Hutch began, placing a cold hand on his partner’s arm, "We need this plan with Miranda more than ever. You two are going to have to stick together like glue."
Starsky chuckled nervously before exhaling a deep sigh. "Yeah, well, I guess I could think of worse things to be doing."
~~~~~~~~~~
Hutch was released from the hospital two days later, his eighteen stitches unscathed by infection and his dizziness and nausea from the concussion down considerably.
Starsky and Miranda were there to pick him up and bring him home; to Starsky’s place, as his best friend would have it no other way and wouldn’t allow room for argument. Miranda was almost a constant companion, since Starsky was scared to let her out of his sight as well.
Luckily, there had been no other incidents around this case since Hutch had been grazed by the bullet meant to kill him.
Hutch adamantly argued when he was discharged until he was taken to his apartment first, because even though Starsky had gone and gotten him clothing and a few personal items, he hadn’t thought about his partner’s daily regimen of vitamin intake. Rolling his eyes in the Torino, Starsky took them on the detour, retrieving every bottle he spied on the kitchen counter and in the cabinet above it. He did it happily, but bemoaned his grievance in Hutch’s presence.
Upon getting Hutch comfortably situated in Starsky’s livingroom, Miranda had to almost beg to be able to leave for her own apartment, stressing how she was more than capable of taking care of herself and how Starsky and Hutch both needed to rest without her around for distraction. When that didn’t work, she reminded him that she had her own protection at her place and that there was no need for all this over-protectiveness. When that didn’t work, she told him that she would NOT be held prisoner and he couldn’t ‘keep’ her, and that there were some things that she needed to take care of that she was not willing to share.
After consideration of just what she might be talking about, Starsky reluctantly let her go. He wasn’t happy about it, but when she threatened to call the Captain, he knew there wasn’t much choice.
When she left, he walked her to the car, even opened the door for her, and she kissed him on the lips, wrapping her arms around him as she deepened it, and he reciprocated. After a few minutes she broke him free of her spell, making him smile sheepishly at her.
"What was that for?" he asked in a seductive tone.
"Just in case anyone is watching of course. Strictly business," she said as she got in her car.
"Oh," he answered a bit numbly.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning Miranda was back at Starsky’s apartment, juggling an overnight bag with some clothing that she’d brought from home and a bag of groceries she’d picked up, sure she’d be waking the detectives when she arrived.
When Starsky opened the door, he couldn’t help but grin as she struggled to keep both bags in her arms instead of dropping them.
"Are you going to help or are you just going to stand there and stare?"
"I’m enjoying the view," Starsky teased before grabbing both bags from her hold.
"I hope I didn’t wake you guys. How’s Hutch doing?" she asked as they walked in towards the kitchen.
"I’m fine, thanks," Hutch answered, walking out from the bathroom as he gingerly pulled a shirt over his head onto his freshly washed torso.
"You both look a lot better than you did yesterday," she said smiling as she pulled groceries from the bag. "Who’s hungry?"
Starsky and Hutch stared at one another briefly; each realizing they had an appetite.
"You cooking?" Starsky asked.
"Yep. But only if you get out of the kitchen," she said, pulling a frying pan from the dish drainer and inspecting it as Starsky reached around her for the coffee pot. Not missing a beat, he reached around her again, this time going for the coffee mugs above her in the cupboard, making sure to gently rub up against her.
"Have some?" he asked devilishly.
She turned to face him, an eyebrow raised at his teasings.
"Coffee, of course," he said. Two could play this game.
"Yes, thank you," she answered, feeling the heat as it rose in her face and hoping he wouldn’t catch the blush.
~~~~~~~~~~
Breakfast was welcomed and eaten quickly; both men not realizing their own appetites. Hutch even had a somewhat different version of his usual health shake that Miranda made for him. She had listened to Starsky talk so much and give such detail about his partner the past few days that she felt as if she knew him intimately, and when she saw the vitamins and wheat germ on Starsky’s counter, knew it had to be Hutch’s. Though it wasn’t his own special blending, Hutch still drank it gratefully as Starsky smiled, glad to see his best friend healing so nicely.
After the dishes were done and they were sitting around in that lull of full stomach comfort, Hutch finally spoke what they all were thinking.
"So now what are we going to do? We can’t just sit around and wait for her to strike again."
"Yeah. I know. I talked to Dobey while you were in the shower."
"He’s at work already?"
"Nope. Called from home getting ready to go in. Wanted to know how his blond wonder boy was doing."
Hutch laughed. "And?"
"And he said he wants me and Miranda to get back out on the streets again and make ourselves visible. Keep that woman from going after someone else."
Suddenly the mood darkened in the apartment. Starsky’s guilt, and also Hutch’s guilt in knowing he could do nothing to take that pain away from his partner, brought on a silence that laid heavily among all three of them.
"So," Starsky sighed as he looked over at Miranda, "Where would you like to go?"
~~~~~~~~~~
Miranda and Starsky had gone on an all morning adventure of shopping through too much coffee and lunch, making themselves very visible throughout the metro division’s territory. In that red Torino with the white stripe, they couldn’t help but be noticed. They clung to one another as if they were newlyweds, carrying on as they put on quite the show.
Open targets.
Meanwhile, Hutch enjoyed a peaceful morning in the apartment, watching the television as he slept more than anything else on the sofa. The guard stayed outside in the unmarked van just down from Starsky’s apartment, able to keep a good eye on the place at a safe distance. And Captain Dobey came by around lunchtime, making sure for himself that Hutch was really okay.
"I’m fine, Captain, really. Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, getting up from the sofa.
As the Captain declined, Hutch tipped a little, caught off guard by a sharp pain that staggered him for a moment as he clutched the arm of the sofa for support.
"You all right, Hutchinson?"
"Stomach cramp," Hutch offered, stretching himself back up guardedly until he was standing straight.
"We got the bullet from your place and had it analyzed. It came from a gun we’d confiscated a couple of months ago that was used to kill Ben Stiller; you remember that case?"
"Yeah. Uh, if it was confiscated, how did …?"
"Stolen from storage. In our precinct."
"You’re kidding me, right?"
"No, I’m not kidding." The captain’s voice was filling with anger.
"That means it’s someone from inside the department. But …"
"That’s exactly what it means. What I need to know from you is who Starsky’s been intimate with at the station. Someone blonde, maybe someone who got scorned, or things just didn’t work out. You got any ideas?"
Hutch was rather revolted by the idea of someone who worked with them being capable of such treacheries, yet, from all his experiences on the force, wasn’t too shocked by it.
"I really can’t think of anyone ... are you sure it came from the same gun?"
"Of course I’m sure!" the Captain’s anger was fired easily by the knowledge he now carried, and directing it at Hutch was not his intention. Unfortunately it came out that way. "I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean to take it out on you."
"I know Cap. I know."
As Hutch began walking towards the kitchen, he suddenly groaned and pitched forward, stopped only from hitting the ground by Captain Dobey.
"Hutchinson!"
Hutch was almost convulsing as his stomach contorted within him, stabbing pains racing through with each movement as sweat began to bead profusely on his forehead.