Title: Blood Ties
Author: Sarah Problem
Fandom: Starsky and Hutch
Slash

Series: Sequel to "Blood Test" at...

       http://www.thepitsarchive.com/stories/MinnieK/bloodtest.htm
Summary: An enemy wears the face of a loved one, and betrayal cuts through the ties of blood.

Author's note: 

            I want to thank Keri T. Who's been wonderfully supportive!

            I also want to thank my editor, Barb D. She works hard so I can look my best. <g>

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

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

     Blood Ties

by Sarah Problem

~*~*~

Long before he opened his eyes, Hutch knew Starsky was not asleep on the couch. He cursed silently, listening for movement in the dark, then sat up in bed and stretched. There were no sounds from the bathroom, the small television was off, and no one was pacing in the front room. Yet, while he couldn’t see over the back of the couch that separated his bedroom from his living room, he was sure Starsky was no longer there. He looked at the time and winced.

Has he been up all this time, or did he have a bad dream? He probably never drifted off. I should’ve stayed awake in case he needed to talk.

The previous week had been hard on them, with Hutch just getting over the flu that had swept through the city, and Starsky tired and over-spent from trying to take care of Hutch, as well as work extra shifts to help make up for the manpower shortage. Saturday had been Starsky’s birthday, and all the two of them had wanted to do was celebrate it quietly.

Things had started going downhill when Starsky’s brother, Nick, appeared out of nowhere, all smiles for his brother and with happy news that he was moving to Bay City. Only Nick had had other-deadly-plans.

He’s having a hard time taking it all in, and I can’t blame him. None of it makes sense.

They’d been stalked and tormented, their attacker making sure they realized they were being toyed with. Even the safe house hadn’t been safe, and four officers had been coldbloodedly murdered in order to get to Starsky, who had been kidnapped from the house.

Nick knew about the hit man, yet instead of warning us he made an arrangement with the killer. Take me out and he’d see that his brother left the force forever. It would’ve worked, too, if Callendar hadn’t felt like he owed us a debt.

No wonder Starsky can’t sleep. Four cops are dead, and he saw Nick put that gun to my head and pull the trigger. The stuff of nightmares.

Hutch touched the lump on his forehead left over from Nick’s shot. Now behind bars, Nick would try to talk his way out of it, say it was all part of Callendar’s plan and that he knew the bullet in his gun was a fake. But Hutch had seen hatred in Nick’s eyes, had heard the anger in his voice, and knew Starsky had heard it, too.

He suddenly realized where Starsky was. Hutch threw back the covers and walked across the floor to the greenhouse door.

Starsky, wearing only the boxers he’d worn to sleep in, was at the far window. He was leaning on the sill, gazing solemnly out into the darkness. The soft light that filtered through the ceiling panels seemed to dance across the curves of his numerous untamed curls, dripped down to highlight the broad shoulders. It continued on, pouring down his torso and legs, then pooled on the floor at his feet. Hutch stood silently, not wanting to intrude but unable to walk away.

“Keeping you up?” Starsky asked without turning, his voice was as soft as the light that framed him.

“No.” Hutch padded into the greenhouse, weaving his way carefully through his miniature forest. “Just thought I’d get up and water the plants. They missed me.”

“Liar.” There was fatigue underneath the amused tone. Without even glancing at him, Starsky moved to his right and gave Hutch room at the window. “You watered them while I was in the shower.”

Hutch put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder. It was a beautiful view. During the day, the restaurant’s garden was green and lush, with trellises and large planters separating the tables. In the evenings, it looked magical, with the tiny soft white lights the management had woven along the trellis, and the candles on the tables all lit. Now, with just the moonlight, it was still a beautiful place.

“It’s really quiet this time of night,” Starsky said. “Not as quiet as my place, though.”

Hutch squeezed Starsky’s shoulder. “I know you wanted to go home, but I still think it was best that you came here tonight. You need some sleep before you face the mess at your place.”

Starsky sighed. “I know, you’re right. If I’d gone straight home I’d’ve started cleaning up. Between the smoke bomb and the forensic team going through it for clues, I’d still be working on it. And then there’s Nick’s stuff....”

His brother’s name was said with pain. Nick’s suitcases and their contents would still be there, spread out all over the apartment by the forensic team.

“It’ll wait,” Hutch said. “After breakfast, we’ll go over and do what we need to do. Then maybe we can get away for a while and get our second wind. We’re way overdue for some time off.”

Starsky shook his head. Hutch could feel the tension grow in the broad shoulders. “I can’t leave town, Hutch. Not with things the way they are. And Ma will expect me to be here. I tried to talk her out of flying in to help, but there’s no telling what Nick’s told her. There’s no telling what she’ll do. She was really upset on the phone.”

Earlier in the evening, Starsky had made a painful call to his mother. It had been hard for Hutch to hear his partner trying to tell his mother why her youngest son had just been arrested, and how serious it could be. When he’d hung up, Starsky looked sick and didn’t want to talk about it.

I know how painful it was for him to make that call, but better she hear it from him than Nick. There’s no telling what kind of story Nick will try to spin out of this mess.

“I know it must have been upsetting,” Hutch said softly. He started to gently massage Starsky’s shoulders. “But you did what you had to do.”

Starsky sighed and leaned back. “I couldn’t tell her everything, Hutch. I couldn’t tell her about what he did to you.”

“She didn’t need to hear it.” Hutch dug his fingers into stubborn knots near Starsky’s neck. “That’s not something you can explain on the phone. I know it would’ve been hard for you to believe, if you hadn’t seen it.”

“I wouldn’t’ve wanted to, but I would’ve believed you, Hutch,” Starsky whispered, resignation in his voice. He shrugged Hutch’s hands off and turned to face him. His eyes reflected the pain in his voice. “But Ma’s scared, and I’m not sure that she’ll understand any of it, even if she believes me over Nick.”

Starsky walked away from the window to the bench in the center of the greenhouse, his limp still noticeable. He’d twisted his ankle only a few days before and hadn’t been able to keep off of it.

With Starsky sitting at one end of the bench, Hutch took the other. He reached down to pick up Starsky’s legs and turned him sideways on the bench. With both legs lying across his lap, Hutch began to rub the foot of the wounded leg, keeping away from the bruised area. “This is going to be a bad time for her. For both of you. You’ll both learn how to live with what you can’t change.”

“Guess we have no choice.” Starsky closed his eyes. “It’s like a nightmare I can’t stop running through my mind even when I’m awake. He shoots you. I see you die...” Starsky’s voice caught, emotions fighting beneath the surface for attention. “He never said a word to us about the price on our heads, but he knew about it. He came into my house, like someone who loves me and-”

“Starsk,” Hutch said through the tightness in his own throat. He knew once Starsky started, he’d never be able to let it go long enough to relax and sleep. “Don’t. Leave it alone for now. There was nothing you could have done. Give yourself a break and let it go for a few minutes.” Hutch moved to Starsky’s calf, massaging the muscle deeply.

“That feels goooood,” Starsky groaned. After a few minutes he opened his eyes, and in the dim light Hutch could see a trace of amusement on Starsky’s face. “You always did your best sweet-talkin’ with your hands. If you weren’t a guy, I’d marry you for them alone.”

Somewhere inside Hutch, the remark hit a tender spot. If you weren’t a guy, I’d marry you for a lot more reasons than that, just to make sure you’d always be a part of my life. But then, if you weren’t a guy, you wouldn’t be Starsky. Why the hell do we let our gender be such a big deal?

Hutch forced a smile as he continued to knead what he could reach of Starsky’s leg. He could play along with the change of subject for his sake. “You’re awful sure of yourself there, cowboy. What makes you think you’d be my type? I’ve got pretty discriminating tastes, you know.”

“It’s pretty clear, when you can’t keep your hands off me. That’s how I know.”

Pot calling the kettle black, Starsk? Hutch thought with amusement. “If you were my type, it wouldn’t be your leg I’d be working on, hotshot. I’ve got better aim than that.”

Starsky chuckled, sounding a bit woozy, which Hutch knew was from fatigue. “So, what kinda guy would be your type? Big and blond?”

Hutch laughed a little and shook his head as he moved to Starsky’s other leg, enjoying the way he could feel Starsky relax under his hands. “I don’t think so. Blonde on the ladies is nice, but blond on guys always struck me as a little...bland.”

“Really?” Starsky sounded and looked surprised. “You don’t seem to have any problems with the blond you see in the mirror every morning.”

“Okay,” Hutch said with a laugh, patting Starsky’s legs before he pushed them firmly off his lap. “If you’re going to start calling me vain, it’s time to throw you into bed.”

He stood, and Starsky grabbed Hutch’s arm before he could walk away.

“I didn’t mean that, Hutch,” Starsky said, looking a bit embarrassed. “I just meant that...well...you’re blond and you don’t seem to do so bad for yourself.”

“I know what you meant, Starsk,” Hutch said kindly. “You’re just getting silly. You need some sleep. Time to get you tucked in bed. And not the couch this time. I want to know for sure that you’re sleeping.”

Hutch pulled Starsky to his feet and gave him a gentle push toward the greenhouse door.

“I don’t know, Hutch.” Starsky limped into the room ahead of him. “Maybe you should be having second thoughts about us sharing a bed. I kinda think blond guys are cute.”

Something in Hutch shivered, thrilled at the admission, even if it was only in jest.

“I think I’ll take my chances.” Hutch moved to what he thought of as “his” side of the bed and slipped in, waiting as Starsky slid in beside him. He reached over and placed the clock on its face. Neither of them needed to be reminded of the time. “You know I’m armed and capable of defending my honor. I figure I’ll be safe.”

Although I’m not sure I’d bother defending it. I can’t imagine you asking for anything I wouldn’t want to give.

Hutch lay on his back, his usual position, but it took Starsky a moment to find a comfortable spot on his side, away from Hutch. Minutes passed and Hutch found himself listening to Starsky’s breathing, which had yet to slow and deepen in sleep.

After a few minutes, Starsky’s anguished whisper flowed through the darkness. “Hutch? If I’d’a lost you today....”

Hutch rolled onto his side, placing his arm around Starsky’s waist. He scooted over until his chest was warm against Starsky’s back, and his nose in the mass of curls. “I’m here now, babe. I’ll be here if you have nightmares, and I’ll be here in the morning. It’s okay to let go.”

He could feel Starsky’s deep sigh against his chest. Starsky took his wrist in his hand, keeping Hutch right where he was.

Hutch knew the exact second, a few minutes later, when Starsky slipped into a deeply tranquil sleep. Hutch’s mind grew fuzzy, not only with fatigue but in enjoyment of the comforting warmth of Starsky’s body against his. He’d had his own tense times during the last few days, and among the worst of them had been his fear that he’d find Starsky’s body among the other murdered officers. There was no guarantee he’d be able to avoid any nightmares of his own, but he wouldn’t have to go far to be reassured that Starsky was still alive.

Too bad he doesn’t really like blond guys in bed every night, Hutch thought with amused drowsiness. He buried his nose deeper into springy hair that smelled like a sleepy and relaxed Starsky. I could get too used to this.

Maybe I already am.

~*~*~

Field Agent Jacob Visser inspected himself in the bathroom mirror to make sure everything was in place before the meeting. Andretti, the supervisor for West Coast operations, was a stickler for details, so his suit must be perfect and his manner one of calm control. He’d worked hard to build up his reputation for efficiency in his work and perfection in his style, and he wasn’t about to take the chance that his appearance would affect that, or arouse suspicions.

Visser held his hands out over the sink and watched for any signs of a tremor. He was relieved to see, as always, that his control was solid.

It’s still salvageable. I just have to make sure Andretti doesn’t move too quickly and get Callendar into hiding before I can get to him. Everything’s in place and ready to play out. Callendar will be dead before morning.

It had been a shock to hear of Callendar’s capture and arrest. The man was too good to be taken in unless he’d planned it.

It had to be a setup from the start. I knew it sounded wrong for a hit man of his caliber to volunteer to take out two detectives, even if he did sell it as a “personal vendetta” against them. Callendar must’ve been planning to turn himself over to them all along.

It should have been a simple arrangement. Gaetano Cicero, the leader of the largest mob in New York, and Franklin Tallman, his counterpart in Bay City, had formed a tentative partnership that could rival any of the foreign drug interests trying to find a toehold in the U.S. market. With Visser’s help, well paid for by Cicero, certain files in the federal agency’s offices could be altered, or false information entered that could keep the Feds out of their hair. Callendar had been sought out, by both Tallman and Cicero, to take out certain people in both cities, all of whom could cause them trouble.

With Callendar’s defection, not only was Tallman and Cicero’s confidential information bound for the federal files, but Visser’s own cover was in danger of being blown. Callendar had seen him as one of Cicero’s men, and if he ever discovered that Visser was actually a federal agent, Callendar would point him out in a second. Nick Starsky, on the other hand, knew who he really was. A fact that had annoyed and worried him as soon as he’d discovered Starsky’s brother was not only a cop, but one that had been marked for death because he was too good at what he did.

Cicero was an idiot for keeping Nick around. Now that he’s in jail, I can’t allow him to finger me while trying to save his own ass. As for the two cops, I’ll have to finish the job Callendar started.

Checking his watch, he saw it was time to head for the meeting. One last glance in the mirror, one more deep breath, and he turned and walked out.

~*~*~

Starsky stretched drowsily, wincing when a dull pain from his ankle ran up his leg. It took a moment to remember why his ankle was sore, and he groaned mentally as the last few days came back to him in a rush. He knew before opening his eyes where he was, and that he had the bed to himself. The sound of the shower told him where Hutch was.

Just a few more minutes, he thought as he pulled a sheet up over his head. His head felt full of cotton, and his tongue was telling him that something nasty had died in his mouth, all the signs of too little sleep. So many things going on...so many things to do. I need to call Ma. And Nick.

A wave of sorrow and anger washed over him, as once again the sight of Nick pulling the trigger to take Hutch’s life filled his head. Starsky had been tied to a chair, watching the sight on a television screen, as Nick had tried to murder Hutch. Nick hadn’t known his brother was watching, that the whole scene had been set up to expose him for the betrayer that he was.

Why, Nick? Why couldn’t you tell us what was going on? Couldn’t you trust us to handle the situation? Couldn’t you trust me? We could’ve figured something out. Those officers might still be alive. We wasted so much time because we didn’t know who was after us. If only...only....

He didn’t know how long he’d gone over and over every bit of the last two days as he’d tried to fall asleep the night before. He’d finally gotten up, careful not to wake Hutch. He’d found himself standing at the foot of Hutch’s bed, watching him sleep. Hutch’s calm features, unmarked in the dim light by the ravages of his encounters, and the slow rise and fall of his chest had helped calm Starsky in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.

It would’ve saved us some time if I’d just done what I wanted to do and crawled into bed with him. I tried not to wake him. Even asleep, he knew I needed him, Starsky thought sheepishly. He imagined he could still feel Hutch’s arms around him. He’s still here and he’s fine. I just have to remember that and find some way to deal with the rest.

The shower stopped. Starsky gave in to the inevitable and sat up, glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

Eight a.m.? That’s eleven in New York. Ma should’ve called by now if she was flying in. She would know to try here if she couldn’t reach me at my place, wouldn’t she? I shouldn’t’ve called her; she was so confused and upset about Nick getting arrested. But I didn’t want Nick to get to her first and fill her head with who-knows-what.

The bathroom door opened and Hutch came around the corner. He smiled a little apologetically when he saw Starsky.

“Did I wake you? Didn’t mean to.” Hutch sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on one of Starsky’s sheet-covered legs. His eyes search Starsky’s face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess,” Starsky said. He found his eyes glued to Hutch’s upper lip. Leaning forward, Starsky reached up to cup his cheek. Hutch looked amused as Starsky ran his thumb along the newly shaven area. “You finally got rid of that caterpillar, huh?”

Hutch chucked but looked a little sheepish. “Couldn’t get that red dye out and didn’t want to go around looking like some sort of clown.”

“Well, that’s one good thing comin’ out of all of this. I like you better this way. Did Ma call?”

“No. At least not here. Are you going to talk to her today?”

Starsky nodded. “I told her I’d keep her updated. We’ll have to call Dobey and see if they’ve charged Nick with anything and if he’s made arrangements for a lawyer. Knowing Nick, I’ll bet he’ll be ready to make a deal, even if he has to make up the information. Damn it, Hutch! I don’t want anything to do with him anymore, yet here I am losin’ sleep and checking up on him. If I had the chance, I’d walk away from him and never look back.”

“Starsk?” Hutch said the word softly, and Starsky looked up into sympathetic eyes. “If you could really walk away from your brother like that, you wouldn’t be the Dave Starsky I partnered with.” Hutch gave him a gentle shake and a smile. “Now, we’ve got an apartment to clean, so why don’t you get in the shower and I’ll break out the cereal?”

Starsky had just gotten to his feet when a sharp banging on the door startled him. He looked at Hutch, who shrugged in answer. Starsky didn’t think they were expecting anyone.

“I know you’re home! This is important!” the deep boom of Dobey’s voice came from behind the door. He sounded almost frantic.

Starsky exchanged surprised glances with Hutch, who hurried to the door. Starsky followed, his heart starting to race.

Is this about Nick? Has something happened?

Hutch opened the door, looking carefully through the narrow gap before he stepped back and let Dobey inside. Starsky could see he’d been able to go home for at least a while, as he was wearing different clothing than yesterday, but the stubble on his face and the wildness of his hair told Starsky he hadn’t been home for long.

“What’s up?” Starsky asked, not liking the grave look on Dobey’s face as he walked straight to the windows and slightly moved aside a shade, peering out onto the street. Dobey nodded to himself, as if satisfied with what he saw.

“I was hoping you’d both be here,” Dobey said as he turned to look at them. “Callendar’s dead. It happened suddenly, a few hours ago. You two need to get packed. Right now. You’re taking a trip.”

“Us? Why? Where?” Hutch asked with surprise.

“Just do it and I’ll explain,” Dobey snapped. Both Starsky and Hutch moved into action.

“Guess it wasn’t natural causes, huh?” Hutch said, already on his way to the small room beside the kitchen where he kept his suitcases tucked away. Starsky started opening drawers and pulling out the spare clothing he routinely kept at Hutch’s apartment. He started tossing his in one pile and Hutch’s in another.

“They won’t know until the autopsy, but I’d say it stinks.” Dobey shook his head and sighed. “It took only hours for the government boys to elbow the local guys away from Callendar. They took him under guard to General Hospital because he wasn’t feeling well, and put up a twenty-four-hour guard. He fell asleep, and a few hours later, a night nurse discovered he wasn’t breathing. He was past reviving.”

“They didn’t find out who put the hit out on us, did they?” Starsky said grimly, starting to fold the clothing in his pile into one suitcase, while Hutch started to fill another. He knew full well that once the federal men decided they wanted someone, they didn’t care what the impact was on the local level. “That’s why we’ve gotta start movin’ again.”

“I don’t know,” Dobey said with frustration. “If Callendar gave anyone that information it hasn’t gotten to me yet. But we may have another problem. The only other person who knows anything about this whole mess was attacked at the station about the same time Callendar was killed.

A chill ran up Starsky’s spine and froze him in place. “Nick,” he said with sick certainty.

“He’s alive, and his injuries aren’t life threatening,” Dobey quickly assured him. “They were moving him to another holding cell when a couple of suspects got loose. A fight broke out and Nick was pulled into it. One of the suspects managed to get a knife past the booking officers. Nick’s got shallow wounds on his chest and arm. He’s in the infirmary, getting them stitched up.”

Starsky didn’t realize he was standing with his fists clenched until Hutch touched him on the arm.

“He was the target?” Hutch asked. “He wasn’t just in the way?”

“A suspect gets past booking with a knife?” Dobey thundered, turning to pace the floor. “Callendar is dying in some hospital room, and the only other person that might possibly confirm anything he was telling us or the Feds is attacked. What the hell else can I think?”

“He’s the only other link to New York,” Starsky said grimly, grabbing a handful of his clothes and angrily throwing them into the suitcase. “Without Callendar to testify against those big shots he’s been namin’, they aren’t gonna have’ta worry about doin’ time.” Another handful of clothing was thrown with force. “And Nick’s the only one left who knows who put out the hit on Hutch and me, unless we can scrounge it up from the streets.”

He grabbed another handful of clothing and was ready to throw it in his suitcase when Hutch grabbed his arm.

“Mine,” Hutch said softly, nodding toward the wadded up shirts Starsky held in his hand. Starsky gritted his teeth and nodded. Getting angry wasn’t going to help anything. He dropped the shirts down on the bed.

Hutch turned to Dobey. “Is this because you think that hit is still out on us, Captain? Because I think Starsky and I are done running.”

“Damn right.” Starsky turned and sat heavily on the bed. Things were happening too fast, and he felt out of control. Running was not going to make him feel any better about being forced away from his home once again. “The shit hit the fan here, so here’s where we need to stay.”

Dobey stopped his pacing and turned toward them, his face grave but determined. “It’s not just you two I’m thinking of. If they can get to Callendar through the Feds, they can get to anyone. Until this mess is over, you two need to leave the area and take Nick with you.”

Starsky was surprised. “You mean the chief or the DA is gonna let us-?”

“No,” Dobey interrupted impatiently. “We’re not asking for permission. You’re going to take him, on my order. I’ll take full responsibility. I don’t want anyone to know you three are gone until it’s too late to track you down.”

“They’ll know,” Hutch said softly. “The chief and the DA will figure it out. When the Feds realize Nick is gone, they’ll start looking for us. They’ll figure that you helped us disappear.”

“I’ll just have to pretend ignorance,” Dobey said, his lips showing a shadow of a smile. “I used to be pretty good at working undercover. I think I can keep them guessing for a while.”

Starsky traded a look with Hutch and could tell his partner had reached the same conclusion. If Dobey felt the danger to them was real enough to put his job on the line, they’d be fools to stick around and argue with him.

“Where do we go?” Starsky said gruffly, touched by the lengths Dobey was willing to go for them once again.

“You’ll have to leave the city, and it’s best if I don’t know where.” Dobey reached into his pocket and pulled out two wads of bills; he tossed one to each of them. “Cash to get you going. It’s all I could get on short notice so don’t burn through it. You cash a check or use a credit card and the Feds will know where you’ve been. Give me a call, at home, every forty-eight hours at midnight. Use a pay phone and don’t say anything when I pick it up. If I don’t answer, hang up and give it another couple of days. That way, if anyone bothers to tap my phone, they won’t have a chance to get a trace. Five minutes should be enough for any conversation, unless you’ve got trouble.”

Starsky stood and slipped the bills in his back pocket. He’d wait until later to count it, but it looked to be a few hundred. He had no doubt that their captain had taken it from a personal account. Dobey dug in his pocket again, pulled out a car key and tossed it to Starsky.

“Transportation?” Hutch asked the obvious question. All three of them knew using the LTD, let alone the Torino, would be too obvious. Even if they went out of state there was no use taking a chance on having their plates recognized.

“A’72 blue Oldsmobile Cutlass with a white top and Ohio plates is parked just inside the station garage. No one will be looking for it, so you won’t have to worry about hiding the plates.”

“And how do we get Nick out?” Starsky asked, trying not to think about his brother’s injuries too much. At least he would still be mobile.

“Cheryl Jennings is on shift, and she’ll be covering the infirmary for the next hour,” Dobey said.

Starsky knew then they would have no problem getting Nick out of the infirmary. Cheryl would cover for them. She felt she owed them.

“One of you walks in, takes custody, throws a sweatshirt with a hood over Nick, and walks him out, cuffed,” Dobey continued. “You’re both cops, no one will suspect anything. As long as they don’t see who you’ve got well enough to identify Nick from a photo, they shouldn’t have any reason to remember you doing something you’ve done hundreds of times before.”

Starsky looked at the key in his hand, wondering how it would feel to see Nick again. “That easy? Things are never that easy.”

“We wouldn’t know what to do with ‘easy’,” Hutch said. “Captain, you’d better get back to the station and make sure you’re at work when we do this. You may need an alibi.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s you two I’m worried about.”

“Thanks, Cap’n,” Starsky said quietly. “Like always, you’ve given us everything we need to do our job.” He gave Dobey a smile he hoped expressed his appreciation.

Dobey waved away the thanks as he walked to the door. “Just keep yourselves safe and out of sight until the Feds and the Department can weed out the rotten apples.” He stopped and waved a finger at them. “And call, tomorrow night at midnight.”

Hutch turned to finish packing his suitcase. “We need to get moving, partner. You okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” Starsky said tightly, anger spilling out from some hidden compartment inside, making him wish he had something to hit. “I feel like someone’s placed my head in a mixer and I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. Someone tried to kill my brother, who tried to kill my best friend. Am I supposed to be happy or sorry that they didn’t finish the job?”

“I don’t know, Starsk,” Hutch said with a frustrated sigh. “I wish I knew.”

“What about you?” Starsky asked, eyes on Hutch’s profile. He could see that certain set of his face that told him Hutch wasn’t any too comfortable with this job. “How’re you feelin’ about this?”

“I feel like a cop.” When Hutch glanced at him, Starsky could see anger beneath the surface. Hutch’s smile was sympathetic, but anger made his eyes icy. Starsky didn’t have to ask to know what memory was running through his partner’s mind. Hutch would have been dead at Nick’s hand, if Nick had had his way. “And I’ll be a cop, just like you. We’ll both have to bury it, Starsk, and get this done. We’re running out of time.”

Hutch went to the bathroom and started pulling out items for his shaving kit. Starsky turned back to his packing, moving quickly. Hutch was right, they didn’t have much time.

I’ve just gotta remember that I’m a cop, and Nick is just another protected witness.

Even as he said it to himself, he couldn’t believe it was going to be that easy

~*~*~

Making it up to the infirmary was a piece of cake, but Hutch had forgotten just how big Metro was and how many people came in and out on a daily basis. He walked through the familiar corridors as usual and noticed he got only quick, dismissive glances from those working this shift. They would probably never remember if they really saw him here this time of day, or that he was carrying a rolled-up grocery sack.

The infirmary was on the same floor as the forensic labs, but tucked back into a corner. Medical emergencies were taken to the nearest hospital ER, but anything that wasn’t life threatening could be treated here, where there was a doctor on call. Hutch knew that for some prisoners this might be the only doctor they’d see for years.

He saw Cheryl at the front desk and caught her eye. As Hutch neared, she nodded toward the rooms in the back. Hutch turned the corner and entered the long hallway that held an assortment of lab rooms and the infirmary. Cheryl joined him a minute later. So far, the hallway was empty, and Hutch hoped it would stay that way.

“He’s in Room 419,” she spoke softly so her words wouldn’t echo. “He’s been given some pain medication, but should be alert enough to be ambulatory. The sutures can be removed in about ten days, and he’s had a tetanus shot. I’ve got a sack up front with first-aid basics you can pick up when you walk by. You know how to treat sutures?”

He nodded. We’ve done it far too often. I’ve got the pharmacy number memorized, Hutch thought as he looked through the glass on the door to Room 419. Nick was in the room by himself, lying on the cot with his back to the door. Hutch turned to Cheryl and looked her in the eyes. “You don’t have to cover for us. It may get rough if anyone comes looking for us.”

Her gaze was steady. “I can hold my own, and I want to help. You and Starsky...” she sighed. “We don’t have much time, but I want you to know I appreciate you talking the judge into putting my father in an institution where he could get care. Prison would have just made him worse, and I wouldn’t have been able to visit him as often. I owe you both for caring about him, despite what he did to you.”

Hutch smiled and reached up to pat her cheek gently to let her know he understood. “I’d better get this over with. Cover yourself, and thanks.”

Cheryl nodded and left Hutch at the door.

Hutch entered the room, opening the grocery sack as he approached Nick. Nick turned at the sound of the door, and Hutch experienced an unexpected satisfaction seeing the sudden fear in his eyes. Nick looked a mess. He was in prison clothing, his own probably too cut up and bloody to wear. He looked like he’d been in a fight, his nose red and swollen and his hair a mess. Hutch could barely see the white bandage inside his left sleeve as Nick pulled the arm up in front of his chest in a gesture of defense.

“You here to take a swing at me?” Nick asked, his voice echoing the anger in his eyes. “Or you here to finish the job that guy with the knife started?”

Hutch gritted his teeth as he pulled the sweatshirt out of the bag and tossed it at Nick. “You’re being taken to a safe place. Get these on quickly. We need to get you out of here without being seen.”

Nick’s look of confusion turned to one of disbelief and fear. “You? Help me? I don’t believe you. Where’s Davey?”

“He’s waiting outside,” Hutch said quickly. “And you’ve got about ten seconds to decide to get dressed and come with me, or stay and see who else comes after you.”

Hutch could almost see the gears turning in Nick’s mind. A small look of hope flashed across his features as he reached for the sweatshirt and started to pull it on. Hutch dug out a pair of sweatpants, socks, and shoes and tossed them on the cot, while Nick carefully but swiftly pulled the large baggy sweatshirt over his head. He stood and slipped the pants on, then sat to put on the shoes and socks while Hutch stuffed Nick’s prison clothing into the bag.

As Nick slipped his foot into his shoe, Hutch flipped up the hood of the sweatshirt to cover Nick’s head and pulled out his handcuffs.

“Keep your face covered and don’t look up. Hold your hands out.”

Nick looked up at him sharply and Hutch glared at him, almost wishing Nick would refuse so he could leave him behind. After a moment, Nick held out his wrists.

“It wasn’t what it seemed.” Nick’s voice wavered a bit, and he grew stiff as Hutch snapped on the cuffs. “I knew the gun wasn’t loaded. It was just-”

“Save it!” Hutch hissed. He pulled the hood farther down over Nick’s face, grabbed his left elbow, and pulled him toward the door. He did his best not to be rough out of anger. “We get out of here, then you can start the lies. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. The fewer people notice us leaving, the longer you may live.”

His warning must have gotten through. As soon as Hutch opened the door, Nick’s head was down and he stayed silent. Hutch checked the hallway and saw Cheryl at the front desk. His grip firmly on Nick’s elbow, Hutch moved him down the hall and past the desk at a normal pace. A brown sack was sitting on the corner of the desk, and Hutch picked it up as they walked by and quickly tossed it into the larger one that held the prison clothing. No one in the hall even looked at them.

With Nick in tow, the station seemed more crowded than ever. Hutch tried to keep his pace businesslike and his expression bored. His heart beat fast, and he feared that at any second he would hear his name called out, or a shout of “escape.” They wove their way through uniformed officers, detectives in suits and street clothes, all with their minds on their work. Hutch noticed a few glancing at them, then moving on once they recognized him as a cop. So far, no one in the crowded, noisy station seemed to take any interest in Nick once they saw the cuffs on his wrists.

As they entered the enclosed garage, Hutch was hit as always by the stink of gas fumes, the roar of engines, and raised voices. Usually his least favorite part of Metro, but he felt a surge of relief that he’d gotten that far with no trouble. He didn’t even have to look for the car, as the blue Oldsmobile pulled up in the driving lane as soon as Hutch and Nick stepped through the doors.

Hutch opened the passenger door and pulled the seat forward. Nick entered quickly, and Hutch wasted no time getting into the passenger seat. Starsky put the car in motion before he’d even gotten the door fully shut.

“Problems?” Starsky asked grimly as he turned the car toward the exit. At first glance, Starsky might look like he had nothing on his mind, but Hutch could see how tense he was. Not once had he even glanced at Nick.

“None.”

“Anyone see you?”

“Everyone. No one noticed.”

As they exited the parking garage, Hutch looked for, and caught a glimpse of, the Torino at the far end of the lot. If anyone put out an APB on them, they’d find the Torino and the LTD in a matter of minutes. Anyone who tried to trail them was going to have to start from scratch.

Nick shifted in the back seat, and Hutch turned to look at him. Starsky kept his eyes on the road.

“Put the hood back up,” Hutch snapped when he saw Nick pulling it back off of his face. “We’re not in the clear yet, and we don’t need anyone noticing you.”

“Man, I knew you were working on getting me out of there, Davey,” Nick said cheerfully as he pulled the hood back into place. He leaned up into the space between the front seats and put his cuffed hands out between Starsky and Hutch. “Can you get these off?”

“They stay on,” Starsky said sharply, never taking his eyes from the traffic. “Sit back and shut up.”

“Davey?” Nicky said in an exasperated, whiny tone, his hands opened palm-up as much as the cuffs allowed. “Look, I know things have been real confusing since we were rescued yesterday, but I can explain it.”

“I said to shut it!” Starsky snapped, looking at Nick in the rearview mirror. Hutch could see the anger making Starsky’s eyes flash. His voice boomed through the car. “I swear, Nick, you do as you’re told, or I’m gonna pull over and kick your ass out to the curb!”

Nick gasped and quickly pulled himself back into the depths of the back seat. Hutch’s hands hurt from clenching his fists so hard.

“Davey?” Nick sounded totally shocked. “What’s going on? Where are we going?”

“Callendar was taken into federal custody and he’s dead,” Hutch said as he saw Nick’s eyes widen. “Someone made an attempt to get you out of the way. There could still be a price out on our heads. Until we’re sure that all the dirty local cops and Feds are out of the way, we’re going to be laying low for a while.”

“And if you wanna lay low with us, you’d better do as you’re told,” Starsky interjected, a sour expression on his face. “Right now, you’d better pretend like you’re not here. The less we have to deal with you, the better for all of us.”

Nick didn’t reply, so Hutch turned back around in his seat. He could see they were near the freeway and in moments would be on their way out of town.

~*~*~

“Hey, Visser? You were originally assigned to New York, right?” Agent Johnson looked up over the table they shared in the conference room. A younger man, Johnson seemed to represent all that Visser had disliked in the new breed of agent. Book smart, with none of the military experience Visser had come to the agency with, Johnson was lacking the street smarts that would ever get him anywhere. While Visser had only contempt for the man, he kept it hidden. He never knew when Johnson might prove useful.”

“Sure, kid. I worked that area for almost twenty years. It’s been hell trying to lose the accent.”

Johnson handed him a folder. “You ever hear of this guy up there? This Nicholas Marvin Starsky?”

“Not in New York,” Visser said casually, taking the folder and looking through the print-out of Nick Starsky’s rap sheet. “But I saw the file about him being taken in with Callendar. His brother’s statement sure tells one hell of a story against him. Hard to believe it happened, except that the partner, Hutchinson, confirms it in his statement.”

“We just got a call from our guy at Metro. Nick Starsky’s disappeared.”

Visser was startled. He’d been expecting to hear that Starsky was dead, according to plan. “He’s disappeared? How the hell can he be missing? Wasn’t he in Metro’s lock-up?”

Johnson shrugged. “He was attacked in a scuffle early this morning. Must have pissed off some other inmate. He was in the infirmary, being treated for some minor wounds, and seems to have just walked out. The local cops are now questioning everyone about it, but word has it that his brother and his partner are the most likely suspects.”

“Anyone check out their whereabouts?” Visser asked, trying to keep his voice businesslike.

“I guess Internal Affairs is probably looking into it, but they’re on a long list of detectives and uniforms that took a powder once Callendar started talking. Their captain, Harold Dobey, claims that the two are off duty, and he has no idea where they are.” Johnson frowned. “Sounds pretty fishy, doesn’t it? Callendar dies and then someone tries to take this guy out. Maybe we should send this up to Andretti and see if he wants us to follow up on this angle. It’s only been a few hours, so if they did take off, maybe their trail won’t be too cold. We do have better resources, especially if they’ve left the state or the country.”

Visser kept his breathing normal and tried to hide the chill that swept up his spine. He steepled his fingers as if studying the merits of the idea. “Andretti’s got enough to worry about, with Callendar dead on his shift. If they find out he didn’t die of natural causes, Andretti’s going to be out on his ear. This Nicholas Starsky couldn’t be anything but a small fry, and may have been nothing more than someone who had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think we’d be wasting Andretti’s time by sending this up. The locals lost Starsky, let them find him.”

Visser watched as Johnson looked over the report. I can’t over play this. Even if Andretti gets that file, it won’t mean anything to him. I can work on him to either ignore this loose end or give it to me.

Johnson finished reading the report and tossed it on the table in front of him. “You’re probably right. Starsky’s got priors, but it’s all been penny-ante stuff. For all we know, he’s an asshole who pushed some guy too far and deserved it. Kinda strange to think that his brother and his partner would give a shit about him, after what they claimed he’s done. Probably the simplest explanation is that precinct is so screwed up, Nick Starsky actually did just walk away, and the two cops had some days off so took ’em. Can’t blame them for that.”

“I’m with you there,” Visser said, relieved at Johnson’s analysis of the situation. He reached over and picked up Nick’s file. “But just to cover the situation, let me look into it. I was in the New York branch for quite a few years, and I can put some feelers out there. If Nicholas Starsky returns and has anything interesting to say, I can give Andretti a complete report. By the way, any word on that autopsy on Callendar?”

“Not yet. The lab is working on him now, but some of those tests will take a couple days before we find out if someone got past our guards, or it was just his time to go. To tell you the truth,” Johnson said, getting up from his seat and stretching. “If it’s got to be one or the other, I’m hoping it’s natural. Things would be a lot less complicated that way.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t they?” Visser agreed. “Oh, and I’ll be out this afternoon. Andretti’s got some stuff he wants me to look into. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Sure. See you.” Johnson waved casually as he walked away.

Damn it! What went wrong? That Starsky kid must have a slick move for everything. He’s bound to be with those two cops. Maybe he’s already talked too much. I need to find them and make sure that none of them end up talking.

~*~*~

Starsky quickly opened the motel room door, his clouding breath only reinforcing the chill he felt through his leather jacket. Even his relief at the warmth inside couldn’t hide the fact that their room was ugly and worn. But it was cheap, and at this time of evening, any lodgings close to the sparsely populated highway were going to be filling up with travelers. At 9:00 p.m., they’d been lucky there’d been a vacant room.

They hadn’t made very good time on the highway, with the lower speed limits in place and road construction slowing them down. Nick, whom they’d uncuffed as soon as they’d left the city limits, had kept uncharacteristically to himself, which had been a blessing to Starsky’s nerves. It was bad enough that he had to let Hutch do most of the driving because of his ankle, but having to make conversation with Nick would have driven him crazy. If he’d been able to drive, at least he could have kept himself occupied, and Nick’s presence might not have bothered him so much. They’d finally decided to call it a night, since he and Hutch were tired, and Hutch had a call to make before it got too late. Their plans for tomorrow would depend on that call.

“I thought it was supposed to be hot in the desert,” Nick said with disgust as he came clumsily through the door with his own suitcase, which held all new items that had been bought during rest stops. He flung it on the second bed with his right arm, careful of his left and the wounds that were hidden under bandages and sweatshirt. “Man, I’ve seen rooms on skid row that looked-and smelled-better than this place.”

“Deserts are hot in the summer, Nick. It’s not even April yet, so it ain’t summer. And don’t bitch about the room. It’s the last they had,” Starsky snapped tiredly. He took off his jacket and holster, placing them on the bed. It felt good to get the weight off.

“Davey? We need to talk.”

It was that tone he’d been fearing to hear ever since Nick’s arrest. That voice was the one Nick had used over the phone when he wanted some money or help to get him out of a jam. It worked on both him and their mother, more often than not.

“Let me guess,” Starsky said shortly, forcing words through the growing lump in his throat. He kept his eyes on the bed as he tried to keep his emotions under control. “It’s all a misunderstanding. You didn’t know nothin’ ’bout nothin’, and you’re completely innocent. Just like always. Nick Starsky was in the wrong place at the wrong time, again.”

“It’s true!” Starsky turned to look at Nick, saw the pleading look on his face. “Look, I don’t know what Callendar told you, but I didn’t have anything to do with those cops getting killed, or you getting kidnapped. I told the cops that when they took me in, and I wanted to tell you, too, but you didn’t come down to see me!”

“And is Hutch’s version a lie?” Starsky asked through clenched teeth. “You shot him, Nick. You tried to kill him. You gonna say that was a misunderstanding, too?”

“Davey-” Nick had reached out to touch Starsky’s arm.

It was one move too many. Starsky moved before he thought, shoving Nick away from him hard enough to make him stumble back against the wall. Nick gasped and held his arm up across his chest, and Starsky belatedly remembered Nick’s knife wounds. A flicker of guilt cut into Starsky’s anger, holding him back from advancing on Nick.

Behind him, the door to the outside opened. Starsky didn’t move, but watched as Nick’s shocked and surprised look turned dark and guarded as he looked over Starsky’s shoulder. If he hadn’t already known Hutch was behind him, Nick’s reaction would have told him. The motel room door shut softly.

“Don’t touch me,” Starsky said firmly, ignoring Hutch’s presence. “And don’t call me ‘Davey’.”

Nick, his left arm covering his chest, turned and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door hard enough to shake the thin walls. Starsky winced.

“He’s testing the water?” Hutch asked softly as he came up behind Starsky. He put his own suitcase on the bed, along with the sack of soda and road snacks they’d picked up during the day.

“Guess he can’t get it through his head that the tide has changed.” Starsky looked up at Hutch, who could see that a part of him regretted his actions. He could hear the anger and frustration in his own voice. “I...I just don’t know how to handle him, Hutch. He’s family, but I can’t accept what he’s done. Who he’s shown me he is....”

Hutch reached up and rubbed Starsky’s shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face.

Starsky sighed and leaned into the touch. “I know. I’ve gotta be a cop now. Did you find out anything about that cabin? Is it far?”

On the way to break Nick out of custody, he and Hutch had brainstormed their options. Disappearing without being traced would depend on using transportation that couldn’t be linked to them, and living off the cash in their pockets. They hadn’t had time to stop and get any more, and writing a check or using their credit cards would be like leaving bread crumbs behind them. They could stay on the run, but that would be exhausting. Staying at motels and eating restaurant food all the time would also consume a good chunk of their money. Hutch, who was always on the lookout for new outdoor experiences, knew a guy who had a cabin in the Schell Creek mountain range on the other side of Nevada. It was supposed to be some kind of hidden treasure for those who found the Sierra Nevada mountain range too full of tourists, although just as beautiful.

“I called Jerry, and he was surprised but said we could use his cabin. I’ve got the directions and he told me which neighbor has the keys. We’ll have to bring up food, but this neighbor drives up once in a while to keep it stocked with anything else we’d need. He said he’d call the neighbor and let him know to expect us tomorrow, and we’ll leave the rental fee with him.”

“You think this Jerry’s okay? He won’t go spreadin’ your name around if people come askin’?” Starsky knew the guy from their bowling league, although he was on another team and Starsky didn’t know him well. Leave it to Hutch to home in on anyone with a green thumb and a yearning for the outdoors.

Hutch shrugged. “He’s a realtor and wouldn’t have an obvious connection to us. If someone puts our pictures in the paper with a wanted sign, I don’t know how he’ll react.”

Starsky sighed. “Let’s just hope no one goes that far and we find out.”

“We could always keep moving.”

Starsky looked up at Hutch. His fair features were too pale, and the worry and wear of the last few days made him look like he was still ill. Only a week ago, Hutch had come down with a bad case of the flu, and the last few days had been a trial of stress and uncertainty. Starsky himself was tired and his ankle still hurt. He’d only driven on it a couple of hours that day, but if he kept pushing it, he was afraid it would never heal.

“Nah. We need a place to unwind,” Starsky admitted. “Give us a few days and we can always hit the road again. But we’ll need those few days.” A thump from the bathroom and the sound of running water in the sink brought him back to the moment. “Better get him that sack with the first-aid supplies. Guess he’s gonna need help with the bandages.”

“I’ll help him,” Hutch said quickly.

“You don’t hafta, Hutch. He’s my-”

“I’m fine with it,” Hutch interjected, a small smile turning up the edges of his lips. “I’m the one with the first-aid training, remember? We need him well enough to be mobile, and I can keep an eye on him to make sure nothing gets infected.”

“You sure?”

Hutch looked at him curiously and then gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t trust me with him?”

Starsky frowned and reached up to put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Don’t trust him, babe. It’s gonna be hard for either of us to deal with him, but you’re the one he tried to kill-the one he thought he did kill-and was able to lie about it like it was nothin’. I’ve gotta deal with him; you don’t.”

Starsky was surprised when Hutch lifted both hands to gently cup Starsky’s face. It was an intimate move, a gentle but firm embrace that for a split second made Starsky think Hutch was going to kiss him. Starsky held his breath and blinked in surprise at the movement and his own inner thrill at the very idea of such an unusual possibility.

Where had that come from?

“I’m sorry you had to see that. It wasn’t fair to you, and if things had gone wrong with Callendar’s plan and I’d really been killed...” Hutch’s voice drifted off, and Starsky gripped Hutch’s shoulder harder. It would only take a flicker of movement to pull Hutch closer and see what would happen. For a second, Hutch’s eyes echoed the surprise Starsky felt.

The bathroom door opened and startled both of them. They separated and moved apart. Nick, his shirt open and his bandages off, came out of the bathroom with his eyes on his arm wounds. He’d obviously missed the peculiar moment that had somehow gotten Starsky’s heart racing.

“How long’ve I gotta keep these in?” Nick said to the room, his voice lacking any of the anger he’d taken into the bathroom. He held up his arm, showing them two red lines on his forearm, dotted with a few dark sutures at the center of each. Across his torso, from lower left rib to upper right pectoral, was a single line with three sutures at the lower left end. There were some various scrapes and a few small bruises Nick could have gotten any time over the weekend. “Some of them are starting to itch and I need a shower.”

He had a close call, Starsky thought uncomfortably. He’d seen too many knife wounds not to see what the attacker had been aiming for. The angle of the rib wound told him that the knife had been aimed between his ribs, for his heart. Either Nick turned too fast, his clothing got in the way, or both. I wonder if Dobey can get the attacker to talk and tell us who paid him.

“Sit,” Hutch ordered. He nodded to the bed farthest from the door as he opened a small brown sack. Nick flashed Starsky a look of concern, as if he were afraid Hutch was going to hurt him in some way. Starsky glared back at him.

“No shower until tomorrow,” Hutch said in a clinical tone that would rival the most professional healthcare worker. “I’ll put the bandages back on, but the wounds shouldn’t need any cleaning until tomorrow. Take some aspirin if they’re bothering you. Don’t scratch at them.”

Starsky left Hutch to his bandaging to take a shower. The water was hot and he took a moment to let it run over his back, the sharp, needle-like pounding from the showerhead felt good. He hadn’t realized just how stiff his back was. It wasn’t until he opened the tiny wrapped soap that he realized he hadn’t packed any shampoo, and the one room sample wasn’t going to last through the three of them. The bathroom door opened and closed, then he saw Hutch’s tall form moving around behind the cheap shower curtain.

“Hey, Hutch?”

Without a word, Hutch handed a bottle of shampoo around the curtain. “Need soap?”

Faking surprise, Starsky opened the curtain just enough to see Hutch’s face. “How’d you know?”

Hutch smiled tiredly. “How often have we traveled together? You hate these motel samples, and you never remember to pack your own.”

“You not only read my mind, you plan around me forgettin’ stuff.” Starsky started to lather his hair, thankful he didn’t have to use what the motel provided. He peeked around the curtain to see what Hutch was doing. “Man, this must be like bein’ an old married couple, only without the sex.”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Hutch said as he ran water over his toothbrush. “My marriage never got to be ‘old.’ Guess you’ll have to do, since you’ve been in my bed more than anyone else lately.”

“And you’ve said I’m not a good kisser,” Starsky said teasingly. “I told you I was!”

Hutch only grunted in amusement as he brushed his teeth.

Starsky rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and started scrubbing off the rest of the day’s dust. It felt good to be clean, and the hot water was helping him relax.

In his bed more than anyone else? Well, that can work both ways, can’t it? My bed hasn’t been very busy so far this year, unless I count the times Hutch shared it with me. If it wasn’t for the sex issue, we’d be a perfect match. Wouldn’t we?

A memory stirred, something Nick had said during that terrible scene just before he pulled the trigger on Hutch. Starsky had tried not to think about it, as the feelings that had flooded him still made him uncomfortable and would haunt his dreams for a long time to come. But there was something Nick had said to Hutch that was nagging at him.

...“You think I wouldn’t realize that you’re just some goddamned queer who thinks that just because my brother puts up with you that he’s in love with you or something? I’ve seen how you are around him, Hutchinson, and you’re pathetic!”...

Nick’s words-ones that Starsky had assumed was anger on Nick’s part-now seemed important.

Not that I’ll ever understand him, but what made Nick say that to Hutch? Does he really believe Hutch is gay, or was he just flinging any insults he could think of? Or could Hutch have done something...unusual...to make Nick think Hutch wanted me to be in love with him?

He knew part of Nick’s hatred of Hutch was probably based on jealousy. But Nick had seemed so certain of his accusations at the time.

I know Hutch loves me. I love him, too. And there was last night, when Hutch could have tucked me back onto the couch. I needed him, and he kept me safe. If he’d been interested in me sexually, he could’ve made a move then.

Starsky dismissed the idea. Hutch would never take advantage of that type of situation.

Earlier, I thought for a second he was gonna kiss me. I think I wanted him to. Could Nick have seen something that told him Hutch wants something from me that I haven’t yet recognized...or did he see something in me that said I was waiting for Hutch to make the first move?

“Hey, you drowning in there?” Hutch asked tiredly from behind the curtain. “I’d like a turn.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” Starsky reached for a towel as he stepped out of the shower. Although he was conscious of his nudity, he made no attempt to cover himself as he worked on drying various bits and pieces of his anatomy. Hutch was undressing and didn’t seem to look at Starsky, even though the room was so small they had to be careful not to bump elbows. Starsky felt a twinge of disappointment.

Well, maybe it’s not the best of times to be looking for signs that may not be there. After all, it’s not like we’ve never seen each other naked before. Nothing I’ve got can be much of a surprise.

Starsky allowed himself a new look at Hutch’s body. There were few places on the tall lean form he wasn’t familiar with. Starsky had always thought Hutch was a striking man. Not as obviously muscular as some, but more like the classical statues he’d seen in museums where eternal youth had been desired and worshipped. Hutch was lean, long legged with a narrow waist. He looked sleek and nearly hairless if you didn’t get close enough to realize just how pale his body hair was, including his brows and lashes. Anyone could see that Hutch was a real blond, with the skin coloring to match the fine pale yellow hair that became almost white when he spent a lot of time in the summer sun.

Starsky wondered sometimes if he’d ever seen all the shades of blue in Hutch’s eyes. He’d seen them as blue as eons-old glacier ice when Hutch was harboring a deep anger that couldn’t be released or expressed, and a hard, cutting flame-like blue when he was hot with fury. And he’d seen them soften in love, and in a particular look of concern and caring Starsky most associated with those large gentle hands on his own body, healing, soothing, or just trying to reassure him by touch.

Hutch stepped into the tub and turned around before pulling the curtain closed and turning on the water. Starsky, behind the cover of drying his hair with the towel, had purposefully looked at Hutch’s crotch. Hutch’s cock was uncircumcised, long and heavy, with a large sac underneath, finely dusted with pale hair.

There had been a few times in the past when a double date had gotten double hot, and the four of them had gotten it on in the same room. While doing his best to please the lady he was with, Starsky had always been drawn to watch Hutch and his lady as much as possible. During those rare times, he’d seen Hutch hard and aroused, and hadn’t been put off by the sight. In fact, the voyeur in him-that enjoyed the admittedly awkward and anonymous movies shown in porn houses-got a huge thrill out of seeing Hutch enjoy himself. But they’d never actually shared a woman, and Starsky had never thought about what it would be like to interact with Hutch in that state.

Maybe I have, Starsky admitted to himself as he found his own cock starting to fill at the thought of an aroused Hutch. He grabbed the boxers he’d brought in with him and slipped them on before tackling the job of sorting his hair into some kind of order. There’ve been those dreams I’ve had from time to time, of strong hands all over me, loving me, bringing me off. A man’s hands. A man whose face I’ve never turned to look at. Maybe because I didn’t want to admit to myself that they were anything other than odd dreams that everyone probably gets.

Starsky brushed his teeth quickly, the length of the day starting to weigh heavily now that he was clean and comfortable. He finished up and left Hutch to the rest of his shower.

The air in the motel room was cool against his still-damp skin. He looked at Nick, who had spread out on his back under the covers of the second bed. He must’ve fallen sound asleep immediately, in spite of all the lights in the room being on. Starsky stood at the foot of the bed and watched him. He felt as if a wound deep inside had opened up again.

He looks so damned innocent. What kind of hell is he mixed up in that we don’t know about yet? When we get a breather, we’re gonna have to have it out with him. If he doesn’t know who wanted us dead, he’s got a good idea.

He walked over to the window and peeked out from behind the curtain. The motel was one story, with parking almost up to the doors. They’d had to park a row away from their room, which made Starsky a bit nervous since they didn’t have a good view of the car. Not that there was anything in it to steal, and Starsky had to admit that even an all-points, state-wide bulletin on their license plate would probably not pinpoint them before the morning.

Hutch shut the bathroom door behind him and turned off all the lights as he walked over to the window to join him.

“Anything?”

“Just a few people getting stuff out of their cars. Some tired kids crying somewhere. At least we’re not stuck by the soda machine. And being full up means there shouldn’t be any more traffic through the lot tonight.”

“I guess we should take watches.” Hutch didn’t sound very enthusiastic and Starsky felt the same way.

“You drove most of the way, so I’ll take the first shift. What time do you wanna leave?”

Hutch sighed and rubbed his face. “It’s about a hundred miles to the cabin, with a stop to pick up food and the key. We can get the food in Ely, which is on the way. I’d like to get on the road by six so we can hit the stores there as soon as they open. That would give us each four hours of sleep.”

“It’ll do,” Starsky said. “At least we’ve got a plan.”

“We’ll have to find a phone to call Dobey from tomorrow night. Other than that, we’ll just need to lay low and keep an eye out for trouble. I hope we’re overreacting.”

“You and me both. Better get tucked in.” Starsky turned and slapped Hutch playfully on the ass as he moved around him to get a chair. “Two a.m. is gonna get here awful fast.”

Starsky pulled the small table over to the window, positioning one of the chairs so he could see down the row of doors. He took the sack of travel food from the bed as Hutch moved the suitcases to the floor. Hutch slipped under the covers, and Starsky turned the room TV toward the door, keeping the sound low. They’d pulled enough stakeouts that Starsky knew Hutch wouldn’t be bothered by the noise. He wasn’t worried about Nick.

He dug through the sack and pulled out a warm cola. The caffeine would help him stay awake. He settled back in the chair, listening to the television while eyeing the limited view he had of the outside.

The sounds of Hutch settling in the bed next to him seemed to pull at his attention. He could tell by the way he searched for a comfortable position that his back was bothering him. After a few minutes, Hutch finally settled, pulling a pillow to his chest and draping himself over it. A few minutes later, his breathing slowed and deepened into sleep.

I must have it bad, Starsky thought with surprise as he dragged his eyes back to the window and the world outside. I’m almost jealous of a damn pillow. When did this happen? Was it because of almost losing him, or because my own feelings have grown over the years? If it was just him and me, on a trip by ourselves, I’d be looking for a reason to slip into that bed with him. And he’d let me, just like he let me last night. Is there really anything we could do in a bed together that would bother me?

Starsky had never been drawn to men, although, like a lot of men, he enjoyed watching other men have sex. But watching and actual contact were two different things. Even his teenage experience had been limited to a few circle jerks and a couple of hand jobs from close friends. The thrill had been having someone else bring him off, but he’d found no real enjoyment in returning the favor, and had done so only out of fairness. That sort of contact had been a diversion rather than a desire. A relief rather than a real sharing. Which is why he’d never sought to pursue that kind of contact when he was older.

Maybe that’s why Hutch and me haven’t ever messed around that way. He means too much to me to not enjoy his reactions. Whatever he could do to or for me during sex would only be the half of it. There are things I think I would do to him just to see his toes curl, to see him get off under my touch.

Once we got together, we’d probably never wanna get out of bed. And afterward, could I stand to see him with someone else, man or woman? Would it be possible to be with him in that way and then let him go?

And what does it say about me, that I’m worrying about this like a dog with a bone? Especially considering I have no clue if Hutch could ever be interested in me at all.

And yet the image of Nick blowing Hutch away was still hovering at the edge of his mind, a forceful reminder of how uncertain it was that he and Hutch had any time left together. They both were too aware that it would just take one misplaced step, one bullet, to end it all.

Starsky took a sip of his cola, then got up and walked to the other side of the window to check what he could see of the parking lot. It was quiet now as the motel full of travelers settled down for the night. He wished he could shut down his brain for a while.

He checked his watch.

It’s gonna be a very long three and a half hours until Hutch’s watch.

~*~*~

Hutch stood by the motel window, watching the few stars on the horizon wink out as dawn approached. No one had stirred outside since Starsky had woken him for his shift, giving Hutch too much time to dwell on their situation. He didn’t like having to be around Nick, or being on the run, but he couldn’t think of any other way to keep them all safe.

Hutch heard Starsky shift, and turned to check on him. Starsky was curled up under the covers of the bed Hutch had relinquished only hours ago, snoring softly.

Even asleep he looks tired. Four hours isn’t enough for either of us, but we wouldn’t’ve been able to get a full night’s sleep anyway. Not while we’re still on the run. When we get to the cabin and out of sight, we’ll have time to relax. At least Starsky fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. No time for nightmares.

Hutch watched as Starsky shifted again until he was curled up more and his arms were folded across his chest. Quietly, Hutch went to the closet and pulled out another blanket, carefully covering Starsky with it. His partner seemed to relax under the extra blanket.

He’s beautiful. If we were at his place or mine, I’d be figuring out a way to join him. And he’d let me, no matter how strange it might seem. Whatever I need from him, he gives so freely. I wonder what he’d think if I started giving him more than just innocent massages?

Hutch had always thought Starsky was a handsome man. There was just something about his well-placed features and muscular build that came together in a very male, and very sensual, way. No one moved like Starsky did. He didn’t walk as much as he strutted, so sure of himself and comfortable in his own skin that his very presence drew the eye. And his eyes...such a dark, deep blue, Hutch was aware how washed-out and pale his own were in comparison. Proud of his body, Starsky had no trouble wearing the tightest pants he could find, showing off his long waist, shapely ass, and muscular legs. Not to mention how those tight jeans outlined his crotch in a way that was almost obscene.

And how many times have I caught myself admiring the whole view? More times than I want to admit to myself.

A clothed Starsky was a fascination, but Starsky in the nude was the stuff of some very hot dreams Hutch had tried not to dwell on. It was one reason why, although they’d shared the same space with some willing ladies in the past, Hutch had never felt it safe for the two of them to be with the same woman. They’d had offers of threesomes, which Hutch had chosen to ignore because of the fear of his own reactions. How could he concentrate on anyone else if Starsky was within reach-and willing?

Not such an innocent thing anymore, is it? Hutch sighed and walked back to the window. And it hasn’t been for a long while. I don’t even know when sex with him first entered my mind; it just seems like such a natural part of wanting to be with him.

He remembered the way he’d used all his control to keep from looking at Starsky when he’d come out of the shower. Starsky had looked sexy in a way Hutch couldn’t describe-all wet, relaxed, and comfortable around him. Hutch had enjoyed the intimate feeling of sharing a space that way, but it was going to get harder and harder for him to hide his sexual interest. It was only a matter of time before he slipped, and Starsky would know.

He’s beautiful and full of life, and I want to be near him. If he ever made a pass at me, I’d be all over him in a second. Have I been waiting for him to make a move? Am I that unsure about my feelings, or his? We love each other. If he knew how I feel, would he love me any less?

Hutch couldn’t imagine that happening. Starsky might not feel the same way about that aspect of their relationship, but it wouldn’t affect the friendship. Starsky loved him deeply, and he’d do his best to understand. He might be embarrassed, and probably even flattered by Hutch’s intentions, but he’d know Hutch’s feelings were based on love.

The sun was starting to rise, tinting the sky a mixture of purple and orange. Still, no one stirred outside.

Somehow, at the right time, I need to let him know how I feel. We don’t have forever; we may not even have tomorrow. I want to love him if he’ll let me. Maybe when we get to the cabin and can find a moment together, I’ll let him know how I feel.

Maybe we can both let go of the past a little, if we can start planning a future.

~*~*~

Nick jerked awake, his heart beating a thunderstorm as he tried to orient himself. He was sitting up in bed in a motel room, his arm and chest aching slightly from the knife wounds, and already the stitches were itching slightly.

“C’mon, Nick. Time to get up and back out on the road,” Starsky’s unsympathetic voice cut through the fog in his head.

“What time is it?” he moaned. The light was dim and the room cold. All he wanted to do was burrow back under the covers and pretend the last few days hadn’t happened. “Where the hell are we going that we need to get up so damned early?”

“There’s a cabin we’re gonna use for a while, until we’re sure things have blown over. We need to stop in Ely and do some errands on the way, so we’re getting an early start,” Starsky said emotionlessly. He was putting his and Hutch’s suitcases by the door.

“A cabin? Like in the woods kinda cabin?”

“It’s a place up in the mountains. A private cabin. That’s all I really know.” Starsky turned and looked him over. “We need to get moving. You can get in a quick shave, but anything else will have to wait until we get there.”

Nick rubbed at his whiskers, feeling grungy and resenting the fact that he couldn’t just jump into the shower. He got up slowly and walked to the empty bathroom. “Where did Mr. Nurse go, by the way?”

He knew it was a mistake as soon as he’d said it. He could practically feel Starsky stiffen up in the room behind him.

You’re never gonna get him to listen to you if you keep pushing it, dumbass, Nick chided himself. He doesn’t understand how much danger he’s in. There’s gotta be a way I can salvage this whole screwed up situation. And to do that I