Acknowledgements:

Betas: I would like to thank my two wonderful beta readers, sp_owl (Susan) and Hilly. Thank you so much for believing and encouraging me, and supporting me throughout this writing.

Artwork: By Sam KW and DuluthGirl, my pal. She didn't just only do the artwork, but also provided me with a wonderful analysis of my whole story. She pointed what I could do to improve it, and her suggestions made this an easy piece to read. 

Summary: They found and then lost each other during a trial of a serial killer who had taken lives of twelve young men.  Now the killer's son is at large, but how could Hutch get Starsky back when Starsky was determined to stay away from him.

Categories: AU, Mystery, Hutch Angst, Starsky H/C

                           Wiped Out (Gen version of Erased) by Sam KW

                                Prologue

"What's it you're looking for?" Starsky asked the tall, blond, green-eyed man who stood in front of him. 

"I think I found it- him, you."  The stranger's voice was husky and seductive. "Never seen eyes as blue as the sky," he whispered and stepped closer to Starsky. He laid his forefinger on Starsky's forehead and trailed a path along his nose, across lips, up to the chin, his eyes locked with Starsky's.

This man's cool demeanor, deep voice, and the piercing eyes were unlike anything Starsky had experienced so far during his undercover assignment as a male prostitute. Was this the murderer they were searching for?

"Never seen eyes as green as a cat," Starsky replied, hoping it was a good flirting comeback.

"Name's Leo," the stranger introduced himself, smiling.

"Call me John," said Starsky.

Leo shook his head. "But that's not who you are."

Leo invited Starsky to his house. Most of the men who were looking for a quick release wanted it either in a vehicle or a dark alley, not quite as often in an apartment. It seemed like Leo wasn't interested in just a quick roll in the hay.

Leo's apartment was in the middle of downtown Bay City, a very unlikely place for a torture chamber. For a moment Starsky wondered whether he had made a mistake. The place looked just like his own. The living room had a TV, sofa, a couple more chairs, and a dining table.

"You should quit what you're doing," Leo spoke for the first time after their encounter on the street. He headed to the kitchen, and over to the refrigerator. He grabbed two beers.   

"Why should I?" Starsky asked, standing in the middle of the apartment, looking around and wondering again whether he was with the wrong man.

"I can offer you something better?"  Leo walked back to the living room, offering Starsky a beer. He cupped Starsky's neck with his palm, his long fingers resting at the nape where Starsky's hair curled over.

Leo's breath was on Starsky's face as he moved closer and brushed his lips against Starsky's earlobe.

 Is he seducing me? Starsky's heart pounded against his ribs. Not the usual thing to do with a prostitute! "What's your offer?" Starsky asked, not trusting his own voice. He was nervous, and knew he was treading on dangerous grounds.

"Your life, and… me," Leo whispered in Starsky's ear.

"I already have a life."

"Not for long if you keep on doing this."  Leo's tone turned harsh, eyes changing into a darker shade of green. He inhaled sharply and turned away as if to get his composure back. "I can help you," he said, turning back. He pulled Starsky closer and rested his cheek against Starsky's. "You have no idea, do you?" 

"I don't need your help," Starsky blurted. Their encounter was getting intense and Starsky had to gain control over the situation.

"You are different... Daegon Daffyd," Leo whispered, tugging at Starsky's dark curls. "You haven't done this before… have you, Dae?"  Leo had made his final conclusion.

What the hell did he call me? Daygone? Dafid? Or was it David? Starsky didn't know what to make of it. Was his cover blown? Did Leo see right through him? "I err-- I need to use the john." Starsky moved away from Leo's touch.

Leo smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. I'd never hurt you," he said, pointing towards a door nearby.

Starsky placed his beer on the dining table and quickly walked into the bathroom. He locked himself inside, planning his next move. He wasn't prepared for this kind of situation. Leo didn't attack him, nor did he treat him like a prostitute. Shit! He behaves as if he wants to be my lover. According to the plan, it was time for his back up, Babcock and Simmons, to knock on the door right now. But Starsky still had no evidence against Leo.

Leo had hinted what could happen to Starsky on streets. Without so many words Leo had said that Starsky could get killed. He asked him to quit being a prostitute. Nothing unusual, nothing to arrest him for. Starsky stared at his reflection in the mirror. I am all sweaty. He spent another couple of minutes in silence, and flushed the toilet. He rinsed his hands and washed the sweat off his face. Right when he reached for the door knob, he heard voices outside. Was that Babcock and Simmons?

He had to get back before it was too late. He couldn't let Leo find out that he was a cop, not yet. Starsky opened the door expecting his fellow detectives, but faced a tall, much older and bigger man at the door. In the blink of an eye, Starsky was pushed back against the wall and struck with a sharp object on his neck.

"No- Don't- Not him – NOOOOO." Leo's distressed voice echoed in Starsky's ears when all turned dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months later, in LA.
                 
                            Chapter 1: The Trial

It was the sentencing of the decade's most dangerous serial killer, Ron Scaris. He had kidnapped, tortured and brutally murdered twelve young men. They were stabbed and bled to death, if the torture had not already killed them.

Detective Kenneth Hutchinson from Los Angeles Police Department, known as Hutch to his friends, stole glances at the dark, curly-haired, Detective David Starsky from Bay City Police department. Dave Starsky sat straight, staring in front of him with not even as much of a muscle-twitch. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the legendary man who had gone undercover and offered himself as the bait to catch Scaris. The trial revealed the torture Starsky was subjected to before he escaped and overpowered his abductor.

Hutch didn't want to hear the gruesome details again. It had been a close call. He had heard the talk in the LAPD squad room.

"He would have been number thirteen- just a matter of a few minutes."

"He must be crazy to go undercover for an assignment like that."

"He had been burnt, and the beating-- Man has to be made of steel to survive that."

Hutch had been at court for each and every hearing of the case. At the beginning it was the curiosity of seeing the guy for real; not the killer, but the man who had put his life in danger to catch the bastard. Once he saw Starsky, he couldn't walk away without knowing more of the man and the case he handled. This wasn't the first time he heard of Starsky. Jake Damian, who worked at the downtown precinct with Hutch, who was also a long-time friend of Starsky, had nothing but praise for his comrade. Damian and Starsky had met in the army, served in the same platoon and survived the Vietnam War together. Then later, both joined the police force. Damian remained in LAPD while Starsky got a transfer to Bay City, his hometown. This wasn't the first time Hutch had seen Starsky, either. He got interested in this dark haired detective after reading and seeing his picture in LA times, six months ago. 'Starsky does it again', read the headlines. He had caught Ron Scaris.

Today was the last day of the Scaris case hearing, and David Starsky would go back to Bay City. Hutch never got a chance to talk to him.

The verdict was in, and Hutch swore he could hear David Starsky's thumping heartbeat, even though Starsky was seated several rows in front of him.

Twelve counts of murder in the first degree, kidnapping, assault and battery with a dangerous weapon, resisting arrest: Guilty Guilty Guilty!

"This court hereby sentences you to die by lethal injection--"

The rest went unheard, drowned out by the uproar and cheering in the court room.

David Starsky sat still with no change in his demeanor for another minute or two. Then he forced himself up, clutching the hand rail to support him as if he wasn't sure of his feet anymore. He turned around towards Hutch with the same expressionless look in his eyes. He locked his eyes with Hutch's for just a second, before looking away and walking out of the courtroom.

Hutch's eyes followed the man who was leaving, a deep sigh escaping him. He knew exactly how David Starsky felt.

No punishment is good enough. Nothing will bring back the innocent. Hutch just knew it too well. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't get away from the images of the dead that were stuck in his head. Young boys buried in the barren ground with no clothing on them. He walked out of the courtroom with the rest of the crowd.

**

Starsky paused at the courthouse entrance, watching the reporters streaming outside. The District Attorney was already taking their questions, but Starsky knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the crowd when he stepped outside. He could hear the questions already; do you think Scaris deserved to die? Are you satisfied with the verdict? Did Scaris confess to all twelve murders? What would you like to say to the victims' families?

"So do you think justice was served today?" A soft voice filled Starsky's ears. "Don't you just love those questions?"

"Huh?" Starsky turned around quickly and faced a pair of sky-blue eyes. Ah, Blondie, he was at the case hearing. Who is he, and what's he doing here? Just another guy interested in the case or what, 'cos I'm pretty sure he's not a relative of the victims.

"That's one place I wouldn't want to be, if I were in your shoes," said the blond, tipping his head towards the buzzing crowd." He turned to face Starsky. "Ken Hutchinson, LAPD, everyone calls me Hutch," the man introduced himself and flashed his badge. "Follow me," he said.

Why should I follow him? Just because he's another detective doesn't mean that I should trust him.

"I'm a friend of Damian." As if he understood Starsky's reluctance, Hutchinson further explained, and gestured Starsky to follow him. "Come on. I'll get you out of here."

A friend of Damian! So that's why he was at the hearing. "Oh, okay." Starsky nodded, flashing a quick smile. A friend of Damian is a friend of mine, too. "You two work together?" Starsky asked, quickly catching up with Hutchinson.

"No, but both of us are in the downtown precinct," Hutchinson replied, walking swiftly away from the courthouse entrance. He walked past the busy offices until he reached a more isolated part of the building. He stopped at a closed door and knocked on it. "Bill, are you there?" he asked.  

The door opened with a creak and an old man with silvery white hair peeked out. "Detective Hutchinson," he said, smiling widely.

"Hello, Bill. Can you open the back door for me?" asked Hutchinson.

Oh, so that was how Hutchinson was going to sneak me out. But what about my car? It is parked in the front.

"Certainly, certainly, Detective," said Bill, and turned his head towards Starsky. His eyes narrowed and instantly widened with recognition, "Oh, Lord. Is this Detective Starsky?" he asked.

Hutch nodded.

Starsky quickly held his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Bill," he said, smiling gratefully for all what Bill was about to do for him. He figured that Bill was the janitor by the big bunch of the keys that hung around his waist, and the distinct smell of the disinfectants that followed him.

"Likewise, Detective. Likewise." Bill led them to a door further away. He unlocked it and stepped outside, looking to his right and left, and all around. "The coast is clear, Detectives," he announced.

"I have to get my car," said Starsky stepping out into the courthouse employees' parking lot.

"Yeah, right," Hutchinson said under his breath.

"What?" What's with that attitude?

"You can't drive a striped tomato all over the town," said Hutchinson. "You'll leave in my car."

"Your car?" Starsky asked, his eye brows raised up. "Then how will I get mine?" He frowned. "And what the hell did you call my car?"

"You have no idea, do you?" Hutchinson replied, smirking. "Just wait here. I'll get mine from the other end."

Hutch walked away.

***

"You want me to drive this?" Starsky asked disbelievingly, eyeing a beat-up old Ford LTD that pulled in front of him in disgust. "You call this a car?"

Bill, who was still with Starsky, chuckled. "To tell the truth, Detective Starsky, I wonder how it still runs."

Hutchinson got off the car.

Starsky groaned. "No offense, Hutchinson, but how the hell would you go on a high-speed chase in something like this?"

Hutchinson's lips drew into a tight line; they were almost straight. "Are you planning on a high-speed chase or do you want to get to-- where ever you want to go?" He snapped. "By the way, where are you planning to go?"

"I don't think I'll go anywhere in this," Starsky muttered, and seeing Hutchinson go red in face he added quickly. "To LAPD. I have to talk to Damian," he said, grabbing the car keys from Hutchinson.

"Wish both of you a good rest of the day, Detectives," chuckling, Bill went back inside the courthouse building, and closed the door.

Watching the door closing behind him, Starsky sighed. "Do you really drive this thing?" he asked, turning back to face Hutchinson and the heap of metal he identified as his car.

"It drives fine. It's not a Camaro like yours, but--"

"Camaro? Camaro? Do you even know my car?"

"Who doesn't?" Hutchinson mocked. "Do you honestly think that you can go undercover with something like that?" 

"Why not?" Starsky asked, annoyingly. Who the hell does he think he is, criticizing my Torino? And thinking that it's a Camaro? Huh! "Has worked fine for me."

"We'll continue this discussion later," Hutchinson said mockingly. "Right now, you should get out of here as soon as possible, before those vultures smell you here and devour you."

"Yeah- okay." Reaching into his pants pocket, Starsky retrieved his car keys. He paused for a second before handing them over to Hutchinson. It wasn't that often he would trust anyone to drive his Torino. Right now it wasn't about trust. He just had no choice. "Be careful with her, will ya?" Starsky pleaded.

"Her? You mean your car?"

Starsky sighed. It'd be a miracle if he got his Torino back in one piece.

"I'll meet you at the precinct," Hutchinson said in a pretended cheerfulness. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fate brought us together, Daffyd. You were not like the others. You were special, very special.

Leo's deep green eyes followed each and every move Starsky made, clutching a silver locket that hung loosely around his own neck.

I can't wait until we meet again. I know you are waiting for me. Be patient, Dae. We will meet soon. That's a promise I made to you the last day we met, and that's a promise I tend to keep. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Starsky suddenly felt uneasy, sensing someone's eyes on him. He scanned the surroundings for any movement, but saw nothing. Someone is keeping tabs on me. Is it Leo? Is he somewhere in the parking lot? But how did he know that I would come out this way?

"Starsky, are you alright?"

"Huh?" Starsky asked, startled.

"What's wrong? You looked zoned out for a moment," Hutchinson asked, looking around.

"Wrong? What? No, no. I err... I just remembered somethin'," Starsky said hurriedly.

"Looked more like you saw a ghost."

Starsky sighed. Yeah, a kind of a ghost, that decided to make an appearance right after I got rid of one nightmare. "We should go," said Starsky, walking over to the driver's side of the LTD and opening the door. He took a quick look at the interior, which was no different from the outside. Both the passenger- and back-seat were strewn with old newspapers and coffee cups. "Do you live in this, Hutchinson?"

When he didn't hear a reply, Starsky raised his head. Hutchinson was already a few yards away from him.

***

Hutch walked into his squad room at LAPD downtown precinct. Starsky had made it before him, and was chatting with his buddy, Jake Damian. He sat perched on the edge of Damian's desk, wearing a smile that seemed to light up the whole squad room. Damian was showing Starsky his family photos, which he kept in the top drawer of his desk.   

"I'm glad you dropped by without leaving right away," Damian said to Starsky.

"Wouldn't turn away a chance to have dinner with ya," Starsky replied.

Hutch couldn't help but hear the conversation between Damian and Starsky, who were standing a couple of desks away from him. Hunching over the stack of files, Hutch made a show of studying his cases. He could've stopped listening to them, of course, but how could he, when his ears were extended all the way up to the vicinity of the two friends.   

Damian had once said that Starsky had the look and the physique to turn the straight into gay, and that may have been the very reason why Scaris couldn't resist capturing him. The man had something about him for sure. Was it his piercing blue eyes that seemed to look right through you? Was it his cocky, and I don't give a damn about what you think- attitude? Was it the way he walked with something of a swagger? Whatever it was, David Starsky wasn't someone one could ignore. Hutch had not been able to get Starsky out of his head from the very first day he had laid eyes on him. And that was just a black and white photograph in the LA times; six months ago.

"Are you still waiting for the right lady, Starsky?" Damian asked.

"I already have one in my life." Starsky pulled out his wallet and showed something to Damian.

Hutch's head shot up. Starsky has a girl friend? Hutch had been in a serious relationship one time, serious enough to get married, but ended up in divorce not that long ago.

"I see your tastes have changed drastically," Damian said grinning from ear to ear.

"Love of my life," Starsky replied. "Have to get back to her. I have never been away this long from Shaye, and she hates to sleep without me."

"No kidding. Bet you call her every night?" Damian asked smiling.

Now what sort of a dumb question is that, thought Hutch. And what type of a girl friend is she anyway? What type of a woman would allow Starsky to go through something like this by himself? Shouldn't she be by his side?

 

Damian talked so much about Starsky; how he risked his life for his friends, how sensitive and thoughtful he is. And the articles published on the Scaris case were full of praise of Starsky's undercover work. I thought and practically felt that I've known Starsky for years and years. That was of course, until Starsky offered his two cents worth on Hutch's car. Sensitive Starsky- Yeah right!

Starsky folded the wallet and pushed it into his back pocket. "I have to drop by Captain Maven's office before leaving." He bounced off the desk. "Where am I supposed to meet you tonight?"

Damian scribbled something on a paper and handed it over to Starsky. He studied the note and slipped it into his jacket. "Okay then, see you later, tonight." Starsky walked out of the squad room.

Hutch shot him a look. Starsky winked at Hutch, smiled, and walked away. Hutch lowered his eyes back to the files. He wasn't sure what the wink meant and what he really wanted to do, but he had an unexplainable urge to speak to Starsky, again. Besides, Hutch had to get his car keys back. Starsky would need his keys, too, but he had made no effort to talk to Hutch. Starsky probably forgot all about it.

Hutch pushed his chair back and stood up. He stuck his hands in his pants pockets and jingled the keys, making sure they were still there. He opened the squad room door and peeked outside, looking up and down the corridor. Starsky was nowhere to be seen.

Damn it- Where did the man disappear to? He said Captain Maven's office. Hutch turned to his left and walked down the corridor.

"Looking for someone?" He heard an amused voice as he passed the booking counter, and turned around in a flash.

Starsky stood propped against the wall with his arms folded in front of him. He unleashed a devilish grin, his deep-blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"Hey." Hutch smiled softly.

"Hey, yourself," Starsky replied.

"I er-- I'm looking for Cindy," Hutch muttered. Looking for Cindy? Is that the best I could come up with? 

"Is there a Cindy? Really?"

Hutch glared at Starsky instead of answering. Of course there is a Cindy, I guess… somewhere. 

"I think these belong to you." Starsky held the LTD's keys. "Thanks for getting me away from that mess."

Hutch gave back Starsky's keys. "Would've done it for anyone-"

"In the line of duty, huh?" Starsky chuckled.

"Like I said, you are a friend of Damian."

"Sure." Starsky grinned. "What are you doing tonight? I'm meeting with Damian for dinner. Would you like to join us?" Starsky asked. "Besides, we haven't finished our discussion."

"Oh, yeah. Your Camaro-"

"Torino!" Starsky corrected him instantly.

"Maybe another time, Starsky. I umm… I can't make it tonight." Two's company, but three's a crowd. Hutch knew the two friends would have a lot to catch up on. He didn't want to interfere, but at the same time, he also wanted to get to know Starsky a little bit more. Well… a whole lot more than a just a little bit.

"Well then. I have to leave, and umm… thanks again, it was nice meeting you, Hutchinson," Starsky said, holding out his hand.

"You were nice, too- I mean m- me- meeting you- that is, was, nice, S- Starsky," Hutch blabbered, taking Starsky's hand and shaking it firmly. His mind was chasing hundreds of developing thoughts, trying to catch one that would help him see Starsky again before he leaves LA.

"Good luck with finding Cindy." Starsky chuckled, raising his hand in a salute, bidding goodbye.

"Umm…, Starsky-" Hutch called back before Starsky took two steps away from him.

Starsky turned around, a question mark dancing on his raised eyebrows.

"What time are you going back to BC?" The question rolled over Hutch's tongue without even him thinking of it.

"Ah. I- I haven't thought about it. As soon as I wake up, I guess," Starsky paused for a moment, and continued. "Why? What's on your mind?"

"I- err…" Hutch nervously cupped the back of his own neck with his hand, fighting for the right words to convey what was on his mind. "I was thinking that err… maybe we can meet over for err… breakfast or something."

Starsky looked surprised, caught off-guard. "Something, ah? Well, you can bring me breakfast or somethin', and come over. I am staying at the Holiday Inn, room 104." Starsky said with a grin and a nod. "How about that?"

"Okay, then." Hutch agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, feeling lighter, happier, and exuberant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                  Chapter 2: New Friends…

Starsky met Damian at The Blue Orchid as planned. They ordered drinks and their meals, exchanging facts of their lives since Nam. They'd been at the restaurant for quite a long time when Starsky noticed Hutchinson entering the place. He headed straight towards the bar.

Well, well, well. So it's not that you had other plans tonight, Hutchinson, but you just didn't want to join us. Yet… you wanted to meet me, anyway.

There was something special about this tall, blue-eyed, good-looking cop that he couldn’t exactly pin point yet. Hutch had rescued Starsky, although Starsky had wondered while driving Hutchinson's spluttering LTD whether it was some kind of a death-trap arranged by a fan of Scaris who wanted to get him. But, No. Hutchinson was just the person who he claimed to be. And then he also promised to bring breakfast, to which Starsky had agreed instantly. So… what was this force, other than those good looks and charming personality that pulled Starsky towards this man?

"What's his story?" Starsky asked, motioning his head towards Hutchinson.

Damian turned around. "Hutch?" he asked. "Well... keeps to himself. Very smart, very intelligent. The best in our division."

"No kidding. Better than you?" Starsky teased.

"Not that I want to admit it, but yes, he is the best. He was assigned an investigation we all were trying to crack for over a year. He figured it out and solved the case within weeks, but I think it got to him in a way no one expected." Damian talked about the case Hutch worked on. Another serial killer, whose victims were young males.

Starsky knew all about what a case like that could do to one; how it can get to you. Eat you up from inside and leave nothing but a shell. A shell that is so fragile that it will crack and fall into pieces with a brush of a feather. That's when you need someone to pick up the pieces. That was when Shaye came into Starsky's life. Only Shaye could reach him and make him whole. Oh, how he had refused her and pushed her away at the beginning, but she never gave up. Ah, Shaye… no one had loved him as unconditionally as she did.

"So now he's drinking himself to death?" asked Starsky, watching Hutch's tall frame slouched over the bar counter.

"He looks alright when I see him in the squad room every morning. Maybe he's just getting a couple of drinks because it's Friday, and he has the weekend off." Damian shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe." Starsky wasn't convinced. Looks can be deceptive.

After escaping from Ron Scaris, Starsky hadn't allowed himself to feel any kind of emotion. Had not got close to another human being and had not allowed anyone else to see how he felt. Instead, he flashed a bright, wide smile for everyone around him. He hid his despair and frustration behind his crooked grin. Oh, yes! His friends and fellow officers thought that everything was fine and dandy with him.

Starsky and Damian spent another good hour in the restaurant, enjoying their meals and each other's company. They finally left The Blue Orchid close to eleven o'clock. However, after Damian drove away, Starsky walked back into the restaurant, realizing that he just couldn't walk away from Hutchinson, not when he knew the man was in trouble.

Hutch was slumped over the bar, a shot glass in his hand, which he emptied in one gulp. The bartender placed another drink in front of him.

"Not so fast, Blondie." Starsky grabbed Hutch's arm, preventing Hutch from reaching his drink. 

Hutch's head shot up. His eyes widened with recognition and surprise. "What the hell," he muttered, twisting his wrist to free himself. "When did you come in?"

"Was here all the time, but you didn’t even notice, did ya?" Starsky just shook his head. You haven't eaten anything as much as a snack while at the bar. "No more drinks." He pushed the glass away and ordered a club sandwich. Someone had to do the responsible thing here.

"Take your hands off me," Hutch said forcefully.

"No." Starsky was even more determined to not to let go of him. He smiled when Hutch made a fist. "Don't even think of it, Blondie."

"Just let go of me." Hutch grit his teeth.

"Ain't happening. Not until you eat somethin'."

"I'm not hungry," Hutch snapped.

The sandwich was placed in front of them, and Starsky pushed it towards Hutch.

One look at it and Hutch's color drained from his face. "I can't." He shook his head, closing his eyes and turning his face away from the plate of food as if he couldn't stand the sight or the smell of it. "I can't. Dammit, leave me alone!" Hutch stumbled over a stool and ran towards the Men's room. 

Starsky immediately followed him to the bathroom. Hutch vomited the remnants of whatever was in his stomach, pressing his arm to his abdomen, fighting against the muscle spasms.

"Easy... easy." Starsky stood behind him and wrapped one arm around Hutch's chest, providing the strength Hutch needed to maintain his footing. "Didn't know you were allergic to food," he grumbled, rubbing Hutch's back.

Starsky helped Hutch to clean up, and supported him as he walked back to the bar. After taking care of the bill, Starsky finally pulled Hutch out of the Blue Orchid.

"Where do you live?" Starsky asked, while helping Hutch into the Torino.

"Can't go home," said Hutch weakly.

"Why not?"

"Can't. Don't."

"Okay, okay," Starsky agreed. Don't want you to throw up in the Torino just because I try to take you to your own home. "So where do you wanna go?"

"Station."

What did he say? Station? "Are you nuts? It is Friday, and it's almost midnight. You are not goin' back to work today. Come on now, I'll take you home. You have to get some sleep, Hutchinson. Remember, you promised to bring me breakfast tomorrow."

"No... Can't."

"What? You can't get me breakfast?"

"No. Not that. I- I can't go home."

Starsky sighed. You don't want to close your eyes. You don't want to sleep. You start seeing dead bodies, and you feel guilty because you couldn't get to them on time. You don't want to go home because you are afraid of sleeping.

"Okay then, you can come with me, and you don't have to sleep if you don't want to. Does that sound alright?" There are hundreds or more Scarises out there.  How the hell am I supposed to leave you and mind my own business after this?

"'Kay," Hutch mumbled.

***

Hutch leaned his head against the leather seat of the Torino. He had held himself together pretty well until this one nosey, curly- headed gypsy came and spoiled everything. He would have had a few drinks, and the bartender would have called in a taxi as usual. He would have gone back to the Station as he always did. There he would've snoozed if he wanted to, but never slept. At dawn he would go to his apartment, take a shower, change clothes, and come back for work. This routine worked pretty well for him, and he never threw up once during the past few weeks, but damn Starsky! He just had to show up and had to put that awful plate of food in front of him.

He had no idea where Starsky was driving him to, but he didn't care. He wasn't going home.

The Torino came to a halt at the Holiday Inn, Hutch remembered, the hotel Starsky was staying.

"Come on, get up." Starsky pulled Hutch to his feet and helped him to his room. Hutch noticed a single bed, a couch, a night stand, and a TV.

Starsky helped him on to the couch. "Just stay put for a while, then go take a shower. There are extra towels in the bathroom, and you can use my bathrobe. It's fresh."

Hutch nodded and leaned against the back of the couch.

After some time, Starsky appeared wearing a pair of white shorts and a faded blue t-shirt. He handed Hutch a root beer.

"Drink this. Something is better than nothing, and it's definitely better than the whisky you wanted to drown yourself in," said Starsky.

Hutch wasn't interested. "I just had a couple of shots."

"That is one too many, Hutchinson."

"Hutch. Everybody calls me Hutch."

"Yeah, you already told me. Okay, Hutch. You think you're ready for a shower?"

Hutch nodded and rose quickly, leaving the root beer on the coffee table.

"Don't lock the door," Starsky said, and Hutch remained silent.

"Did you hear me, Hutch? Do not lock the door."

"Okay, okay. No need to shout. I won't lock the damn thing." Shaking his head, Hutch walked into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the shower after adjusting the temperature of the water.

***

Starsky listened to the shower running in the bathroom; then it stopped and started again, and after another ten minutes the shower was still running. How long do you take your showers, Hutchinson? Starsky got worried when he still heard the shower running another ten minutes later.

"Hutchinson?" He knocked on the door and waited for the shower to stop. No answer - No change- the water was still running.

"Hutch, are you Okay?"

Still no reply.

"Dammit, Hutch, I'm coming in." Starsky opened the door.

Hutch was sitting at the bottom of the tub in a fetal position, his knees bent at his chest and his hands folded around the knees. His head rested on the knees, oblivious to the icy cold water running over him.

"Jesus, man." Starsky shut off the water and grabbed two towels from the rack and started to wipe off the water from Hutch as quickly as possible. Hutch's teeth were chattering and he was shivering from the cold.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh? Did you even feel how cold the water was?" Starsky wrapped a dry towel around Hutch's shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Then he wrapped another around Hutch's waist and tried to get him out of the tub. Wasn't an easy task as Hutch was slightly bigger and taller than Starsky. He half dragged, half carried the trembling man towards the bed, but Hutch protested.

"No. N... n... not the b... bed. D... don't want s... s... sleep."

"Alright, then." Starsky helped Hutch onto the couch, went back to the bed, and pulled some blankets off it. He wrapped every inch of Hutch in them in an attempt to keep him warm.

"Feeling better?" Starsky asked gently.

"C... c... cold."

"What? You thought that was a sauna in there?" Starsky started rubbing Hutch's back up and down, trying to bring back his blood circulation. After some time he pulled Hutch closer and wrapped his arms around him, using his body heat to warm Hutch up. It seemed to work; Hutch's teeth had stopped chattering.

"Feel better?"

Hutch nodded.

"Okay, good."  Starsky pulled away. "You don't have to sleep, but I'm sure you could get a bit more comfortable. Don't you think?" Starsky flashed a lop-sided grin. "I'll be back."

***

Hutch sat in the middle of the couch, wrapped up in the white blankets like a mummy, not knowing what to do next.

Starsky came back with a couple of pillows and more blankets. "Give me your feet," he ordered.

Hutch looked confused until he saw the socks in Starsky's hands. Red Socks? Hutch looked at Starsky with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What? You want me to find socks that match your sheets? Sorry, Blondie, this is the only clean pair I've got."

Hutch turned towards Starsky, but he couldn't wriggle out his legs that were well-covered and wrapped up.

"No sweat. Just stay still, I'll do it." Starsky sat on the floor. He pulled Hutch's legs out the sheets, covered them with socks, and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa, with white sheets wrapped around him like a cocoon.

"There. That should do it." Pleased with his work, Starsky sat on the couch and leaned against the pillows. He made Hutch lean against some as well. Starsky lifted his own feet and placed them on the coffee table.

"Now you better relax and watch some TV, you hear me?" said Starsky, switching on the set and flipping through the channels. He settled on Kung Fu.

 "I'll be okay, Starsky- I think you should go to bed."

"Sure, later- but I want to watch this for nw. I like this show. This episode is Dark Angel, from the first Kung Fu season," Starsky said without taking his eyes off the TV. "Welcome to Lordsville, little brother," he said the exact same words uttered by the man wearing a suit in the scene.

"How many times have you watched this before?"

"Only once, why?"

"And you remember the lines already?"

"Well... some of it."

Hutch thought it would be a real life-challenge to understand Starsky, especially when only a few hours were left before he disappeared from LA.

"Are you leaving tomorrow?" Hutch asked though he already knew the answer, after all, he had asked this question earlier at the precinct. He felt insane for asking the same question over and over again expecting a different outcome.

"Now that would make you a one night stand, wouldn't it?"

Hutch blushed again. The man was as blunt as a hammer, but his words could cut through you as sharp as a razor.

"Guess you're single?" Starsky asked the obvious.

"Divorced."

"Ouch. Sorry 'bout that."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I'm done with marriage- how about you?"

"Never married. Still waiting for the right girl."

"Did you find Captain Maven's Office?" Hutch asked, wondering what his deal was with Shaye. Isn't she the love of his life?

"You were eavesdropping? Tsk - tsk- tsk." Starsky shook his head.

Hutch rolled his eyes. "Well, I couldn't help over hearing you."

"Oh, I bet you couldn't."

"So, did you?" Hutch asked, ignoring Starsky's sarcastic remark.

"Did I what?"

"Meet Captain Maven?"

"Now, why would I do that?"

"How the hell would I know that- you're the one who said--" Hutch stopped himself when he saw Starsky grinning ear to ear. He was been played. Damn him!

"Guess you didn't find your Cindy either, huh?" asked Starsky.

"What Cindy?"

"That's what I thought!" Starsky chuckled.

What is he talking about? Hutch tried to remember who Cindy was, when he realized the lie he had mumbled earlier that day at the Station - Damn him again!

But strange as it was, Hutch felt the tension seep out of his body. Starsky seemed so easy to talk to, and he felt as if there was nothing to hide from him. How the hell did he end up in a hotel with a man he had never even spoken to before?

"You wanna talk about it?" Starsky asked.

"About Cindy?"

"I don't need to hear nothing about a Cindy who doesn't even exist for all I know- I'm talking about your stunt in the bathroom."

Hutch tensed up instantly. "There's nothing to talk about. I just… just forgot where I was, okay? Let it go."

"You couldn't come with a better excuse, Hutchinson? Forgot where you were?"

"Drop it, Starsky."

"Nope… not droppin' it."

Hutch closed his eyes, trying to blank out the images of the kids. He didn't want to talk about them to anyone, ever, but it wasn't easy to bottle up everything inside him, either. He knew so many details on all of them, but he couldn't save them. He'd failed.

"I didn't get to them in time." And I can't punish myself enough. "The guy was supposed to be a mentor for the Boy Scouts- A role model, someone these kids trusted and looked up to." How could the ones we trust end up doing the most damage? "They were buried without a single piece of cloth around their bodies." Hutch hung his head sadly. "God, Starsky. Every time he killed, he sent us pictures of the dead kid lying in a shallow grave, half buried. They looked so cold – I... I could just feel the cold through my skin."

Starsky draped his arm around Hutch's shoulder and pulled him closer.

"They were dead by the time they were buried, Hutch," Starsky said, kindly. "Those boys weren't feeling cold anymore. They were finally free and at peace- in a better place, a warm place. A place that'll never be cold again."

"How could anyone do this to them? And how many of those monsters must still be out there?"

"We can only be our best, and understand that we cannot save the whole world," said Starsky, gently brushing off a tear that made its way to the corner of Hutch's eye.

"It will never be enough." Hutch wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. He wasn't embarrassed of showing his raw emotions to this stranger who sat beside him. Sometimes it was easier with a stranger, but... Starsky was not a stranger to him anymore. He felt he was talking to someone he knew inside and out... all the way through.

"No, it won't, but we do our best. If it hadn't been for you, LAPD would have received a hell of a lot more pictures, Hutch. You ended it." 

Hutch turned towards Starsky, wanting so much to believe what he did was enough, that he did his best, that he had made a difference. He thought of the ordeal Starsky must have gone thorough at the hands of Scaris; the pain, frustration, fear and anger. Starsky seemed to have pulled through. He seemed to be whole and normal, though Hutch wondered whether Starsky's nights were still terrorized by the gruesome murders.

"You have to stop punishing yourself," Starsky spoke softly. "It was never your fault- you never did anything wrong."

Not trusting his voice anymore, Hutch nodded. Starsky's every word, touch, and smile seemed to calm down and soothe his troubled mind.

***

Starsky woke up to the sound of soft snores. He had fallen asleep on the couch and Hutch had fallen asleep on his lap! Hutch seemed to be at peace, despite the dark circles beneath his eyes and the lines on his forehead. Starsky himself was in a similar condition not so long ago, and he knew that Hutch needed help to get out from the vicious cycle he was pushing himself into. He wanted Hutch to know that he didn't mind having him near him. He wasn't going to leave him; not when he was so fragile that one huff and puff would make him crumble and break into pieces.

Starsky switched off the TV and put his arm around Hutch's middle, making sure he wouldn't fall off the couch.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Why did you go back into the restaurant?

Why did you go back and talk to Hutchinson?

Why did you bring him to your hotel?

How could you do this, Dae?

You are different- aren't you? You aren't like others! Tell me that you are not like others. You can't be like others.

Leo clutched the silver locket in one hand, holding the steering wheel with the other in a deadly grip that made his veins turn crystal blue.

Daegon … you are mine. You will never belong to anyone else!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                                             Chapter 3: Soul Mate

"Hey, sleeping beauty. I see you're finally awake." Starsky's heart warmed up at the sight of Hutch sitting in the middle of the couch, sleepy eyed, half naked, white blanket around the waist, and feet with red socks. He had been fast asleep when Starsky had left to get breakfast.

Hutch instantly stood up, freeing his hands out of the blanket. "Too bad my Prince Charming wasn't around to wake me up with a good morning kiss," he said, wrapping the sheet around him and heading to the bathroom, mumbling about him being insane, that a dark angel had casted a spell on him, and that he had no idea how to break free.

Starsky watched Hutch closing the bathroom door behind him, then removed the bagels, cream cheese, doughnuts, a coffee cake and the coffee he brought, from the bags onto the small coffee table. Dark Angel? Spell? Hutch may have watched the whole Kung Fu- Dark Angel episode last night.

When Hutch got back from the bathroom, the little coffee table had all sorts of goodies on it. The pleasant aroma of the coffee cake and the doughnuts did the trick, triggering hunger in Hutch, just as Starsky hoped for.

"Was supposed to be my treat," said Hutch, eyeing the food that was laid neatly on the table. "I- I'm sorry."

"You'll get your chance- another day. Now come here, and get something into that empty blond stomach of yours." Starsky patted the sofa beside him, gesturing Hutch to sit with him.

"When are you leaving?" Hutch asked, sipping his coffee.

"Soon," Starsky replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Leaving Hutch this quickly didn't feel right.

Hutch remained thoughtful and silent while he finished the rest of his coffee.

Starsky winced at the disappointed look that covered Hutch's face. Ahh, Hutch. Don't do this.  You know I have to leave.  He tried to push away the thoughts that crowded his mind, but images of Hutch shivering in the shower played over and over, like a looped reel of film. How could he turn his back on a person who was in need?

"Coming back anytime soon?" Hutch asked, dumping the empty coffee cup in the trash bin.

You know there's no reason for me to come back to LA. Starsky sighed. What am I going to do with you? Please don't look at me with those sad blue eyes. Ahh, there we go, you just had to do it, didn't ya? How on earth am I supposed to leave now? What is it with you? What is it with ME?

Starsky had always been an easy-going and friendly person, but he never opened his heart to strong affections and personal attachments. Instead of having one special friend in his life, he preferred the company of many, not-so special friends, whom he kept at arm's length. Emotional bonds were not a part of his vocabulary, but with Hutch, he felt different. No, not different, with him I feel as if he is just a part of me.

A part of him was lost, and Hutch, in some mysterious way, made him complete. It was like Starsky had found himself all over again. I haven't felt this strongly even towards my own brother. Starsky had always listened to and trusted his gut instincts, and his gut told him that Hutch was worth every second of his time.

"Maybe I can stay another day or two. I guess I have some vacation time piled up, and I need some time off after this damn case, anyway," Starsky said sighing deeply, wondering how his mind was making decisions without any input from his brain, or was it his heart that was in action?

"Yeah? Really? You're sure?" Hutch looked as if he was in seventh heaven. "You can stay with me," he said happily. The sad haunted look was replaced by a radiant smile, making him look young and innocent.

Starsky grunted instead of answering. No turning back now, he had said he would stay. But he wasn't very sure whether it was the right decision. He would have to leave, if not today, then tomorrow. Then what? Then who was going to pick up the pieces?

"I... I have to call Dobey-- my captain." Starsky stood up.

One day at a time- or maybe one hour at a time!

I will remove all those images that are stuck in your head and make you whole, again, before I leave, Blondie. I promise you that you'll be eating and sleeping like a normal person before I leave.

***

Hutch cleared the coffee table while Starsky made his call. After talking with his captain for a few minutes, Starsky asked for Shaye. 

"Hey, Beautiful," Starsky said in a dreamy, sexy tone.

Hutch heard the conversation; at least what Starsky was saying into the phone, even if he didn't meant to listen. Was Shaye Starsky's captain's daughter or a relative?

"You okay?"

--

"Uh huh. Listen- I need to stay here for a couple of more days? You all right with that?"

--

"Aww, sweetheart, you know I'll never get tired of you. You know that I love you more than anything in this world, don't ya?"

--

 "I'm staying with a friend."

--

 "No- not a she- a he! I will explain when I get back, okay? I wish you were here, too. You would've liked him, I'm sure."

--

 "Okay, Babe. Love ya." Starsky made smooching noises into the phone. "Will see you soon. I need to talk to Dobey now."

--

 "Hi Cap'n." Starsky listened for some time. "I know… I know, I owe you big time."

--

"Of course, she understood. She is my girl, isn't she?"

Hutch stole glances at Starsky, noticing the changes in his demeanor; the warm, gentle, loving tone when talking to his girlfriend, the careful, guarded speech when he talked to his captain, and then, in the next minute, Starsky's smile disappeared completely. "He is here," he said, in a voice that didn't quite reach Hutch.

'Who' is here? Hutch wondered. Is he referring to me?

--

"No, I haven't seen him, but I know he's here."

Okay, not me. He is talking about someone else, and that 'Someone' is here- in LA. So why is this person important?

--

"Hey, Hutch." Starsky looked up, holding the phone away from him. "I need your home phone number and address, just in case captain wants to get hold of me."

Hutch pulled his wallet out of his pocket and removed his driver's license.

Starsky grabbed the document out of Hutch's hand and took a quick look at the photo. "Nice picture," he said smiling and winking at Hutch. "No. Not Damian. This is Ken Hutchinson," Starsky said and read Hutch's contact information into the phone.

--

"Yes, LAPD."

--

"Alright, alright. I will think about it."

--

"Thanks, Cap'n. Talk to you later."

--

After he was done talking with his captain, Starsky dialed another number.

"Hey, Huggy. Need a favor."

--

 "I'm gonna stay in LA for a few days. Can you--"

--

 "No... Just taking some time off."

--

 "No. There's no lady, I'm not lying. Now listen... I want you to--" Starsky stopped. Judging by the smile on his face it seemed like whoever was on the other end of the line knew what Starsky wanted him to do.

--

 "Thanks, Hug. You are the best, you know."

--

"No- I told you. There aren't any ladies. Jesus man, you're just like Shaye."

--

"She asked the same question."

--

"I'm telling ya, she did."

--

"Okay, Hug, got to go."

He placed the receiver back and turned towards Hutch.

"Who was that?" asked Hutch.

"The good old Bear… wanted him to stop by my apartment – Okay, let's get out of here, and you got to show me around. Since I'm on vacation now, I believe you'll do the same. Because I'm not going to sit in your apartment or go wondering around LA by myself."

"How long are you planning to stay?"

"A week!" Starsky replied.

Hutch's mouth fell open. One week! Today's Saturday, and he is going to stay with me for one week? Holy Moly! I better plan this to be his best vacation ever.

Hutch secretly hoped that he would be able to convince Starsky to get a transfer to LAPD, or at least get him to consider the possibility. Within a very short period, he had come to trust Starsky. Trust him enough to share his innermost emotions. Starsky could be the partner, person he'd been waiting for all these years. He could be the one, and Hutch wouldn't let him get way.

***

Hutch's apartment was about twenty minutes away from downtown.

Starsky looked around, noticing all the plants that claimed every nook and corner in the one bedroom apartment. Newspapers were thrown on the floor, just like in his LTD. However, the kitchen counters were devoid of any dishes, cups or glasses.

"I… err... I haven't cleaned up the apartment for some time now," Hutch said apologetically, removing the newspapers from the floor.

Starsky shrugged his shoulders, noticing a bottle of Scotch beside the couch that was in the middle of the living room. He sat slumped on the big piece of furniture, and picked up the bottle. "How long have you been living here?" asked Starsky, handing over the hard liquor to Hutch.

Hutch returned the bottle to a pantry cupboard hurriedly. "From the day I joined LAPD. Almost two years now."

"Nice couch," said Starsky, pushing the cushions down with his knuckles and testing the firmness.

"It's one of those folding types, a sleeper couch, you know, that can be made into a bed."

Starsky stood up and examined the 'convertible' couch and the simple technology that converted a day-time couch into a night-time bed. "Neat!" he exclaimed. 

"Where do you want to go today?" Hutch asked, while throwing the dirty clothes into the hamper in his bedroom.

Starsky thought for a while. "I need some clothes if I'm gonna stay for a week."

"I can take you shopping. There's no place like LA when it comes for shopping."

Starsky frowned. He didn't care much for clothes. All what he needed was a pair of denim jeans and a couple of t-shirts. "Nothing fancy."

"Well, you wore a 'fancy' suit at court."

"I had to," said Starsky, remembering the dark blue suit and the pale yellow shirt he wore, which were now tucked in the trunk of his car. "I will have to get it dry-cleaned, too."

"So you need some jeans and t-shirts?" asked Hutch.

"Welllhh... I guess we have a good understanding about each other. Do you know a place where you could take me to get that kind of thing?"

"I think I know just the right place."

*****

 True to his word, Hutch took Starsky to a store that had vintage type clothes.

Starsky chose a few items, just what he needed, and nothing expensive. They visited a couple of other stores, though Starsky didn't want to buy any more.

They walked around downtown LA the rest of the day, window shopping, chatting, snacking, and getting to know each other. Both were dead tired when they got back to Hutch's apartment later that evening. They had done some grocery shopping on their way back, and Hutch felt as if they have been doing this together their whole life.

By the time Hutch had put away the food and returned to the living room, Starsky had showered, changed, and fallen asleep on the couch. It had been a long day, and Starsky had not gotten much of sleep the past couple of days. He looked tired, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes.

Hutch walked around the couch which Starsky was sleeping and gripped the backrest strongly. He folded it slightly towards Starsky, until he heard the click that released the latch of the backside of the sofa. Then he gently pushed the backrest all the way back and down until the whole sofa was flat. He gently pushed Starsky towards the middle of it.

Starsky mumbled something in his sleep, but didn't wake up. Hutch brought a couple of pillows and pushed one underneath Starsky's head, leaving the rest beside him. Then he covered Starsky with a blanket, and reluctantly dragged himself towards his bedroom. Hutch couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in his bed. Last night was just a miracle; a miracle that gave him a sleep devoid of nightmares, but today was another story. He looked back at Starsky, who was sleeping like a log on the couch. 

I just cannot expect someone to hold me while I go to sleep. I have to get hold of myself and have to deal with the nightmares. Starsky won't be here forever; he will eventually go to Bay City and I will have to be by myself again.

Hutch went back to the living room and sat on a chair facing Starsky on the couch. He rubbed his hands over his face, and leaned against the chair, closing his eyes. He couldn't afford to sleep in the bed by himself; not yet- not today.

 ***

Starsky didn't know what woke him up. He opened his eyes and allowed them to get adjusted to the faint light, trying to remember where he was. A ghost-like figure was slumped on the chair, moaning in his sleep. Starsky was out of the couch and by Hutch's side in seconds, all the while trying to untangle his legs from the sheet.

He shook Hutch by his shoulders. "Wake up, Hutch. Come on now- wake up," he talked to Hutch, trying to coax him out of the nightmare.

All my fault! I knew Hutch couldn't handle sleeping alone. How could I fall asleep like that? I decided to stay because of Hutch- because he was too vulnerable and fragile to handle anything, and because I knew he shouldn't be left alone by himself in this state – I made him my responsibility, and then I forgot all about it. Dammit!

Hutch's eyes fluttered open, and he looked as if he had been into a ghost land.

Seeing dead bodies, again, Hutch? Bodies that were battered and bruised; buried naked? You feel their pain, don't you? You still suffer for them.

Hutch trembled and gasped, clutching at Starsky's shirt.

You feel the cold, sterile earth around you, and you can't sleep. You can't rest. You have no peace. And you wonder whether this would ever end. You wish you were dead, too.

Starsky pulled Hutch out of the chair and into his arms. He sat on the floor and leaned against the couch for support, holding the trembling body against him. I will put an end to this, Blondie.

"C... cold," Hutch mumbled, tugging at Starsky's shirt.

"Not anymore, Hutch. Not anymore." Starsky said soothingly, pulling the blanket that was on the floor, caught between his feet. He wrapped it around Hutch, who was now shivering as if the temperature in the room had dropped below zero.

"Want to forget," Hutch croaked.

"I know, I know…"

"I couldn't help them."

"You got the bastard. You caught him when no one else could. Let go of it, Hutch, it's time to let go." Starsky laid his chin on top of Hutch's head, holding him and rubbing his back softly, trying to get the taut muscles relaxed.

Hutch sighed and closed his eyes.

Starsky was torn between what he should and shouldn't do. He liked Hutch. Sure! Maybe he even loved the man a little bit. There was something special, fresh, and pure about him, but was he doing the right thing by staying with Hutch? He couldn't stay with him forever. When he went back to BC where would that leave Hutch? Was Starsky introducing another sort of nightmare that would haunt Hutch once he left? Nightmares of being abandoned and neglected?

Starsky was tensed and worried. The more he thought about Hutch's condition, the more it became clear that he couldn't leave him alone. At least not for now. Hutch needed a warm, loving comfort. Hutch needed him. And maybe… he needed Hutch as well.

What if someone else was here instead of me? A 'someone' that could've taken advantage of Hutch, and left him in a worse condition?

A shiver ran along his body and he tried to push away the images that flooded his memory. Starsky couldn't let that happen. He was not going to let any ugliness creep into Hutch's life. He had seen enough of it. And Hutch was special. He would do whatever needed to help him. He had made Hutch a part of his life and there was no turning back. They could only go forward from here. 

****

Hutch woke up the next morning sniffing the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He turned on to his back, trying to remember how he got to the couch from the chair. He had slept peacefully, feeling warm and cozy.

Did Starsky hold him throughout the night?

Hutch swung his legs off the couch and went to the bathroom to finish his morning routine. By the time he returned, Starsky had already prepared breakfast.

Hutch felt guilty. This was not how he had planned to treat Starsky on his vacation. "Starsky?" Hutch called out pouring a cup of coffee for himself.

"Hmm?" Starsky was already on his second cup of coffee, skimming through the pile of newspapers Hutch had dumped on the dining table the previous night.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" asked Starsky, looking up from his paper, focusing his attention on Hutch.

"I… err… for behaving like some five year-old child. Not daring to sleep, and then the stupid dreams… and… you." Hutch paused for a second and continued. "You and I… we… we hadn't met until you came to LA… and I… I don't understand why, but I trust you like I've never trusted anyone before. It scares the hell out of me, Starsky, but I feel like I've known you my whole life." Hutch dropped his voice. "I don't even understand why you decided to put up with me, and stay here with me. With a person whom you don't even know-- "

"Hey... stop the analysis, okay? Just go with it. You need me, and I have the time to spare – leave it at that! And about the nightmares… I have had my share of those," Starsky said, gruffly. "I was just like you- couldn't sleep. Didn't wanna sleep.  I started seeing the tortured bodies, seeing myself among them. Never knew how to get rid of the images."

"So how did you?"

Starsky smiled briefly. "Shaye."

"Who's Shaye?" asked Hutch, though he knew that she was Starsky's lady-friend.

"Shaye found me when I was sitting on the beach one night after waking up from a bad dream. She looked kind of lost- well... no- not lost, but I knew that nobody owned her. She was by herself, and I figured she must have lived on the streets all her life.

Lived on the streets? - A homeless girl? Or a prostitute?

"I didn't want her at the beginning, but she followed me home. I didn't want her in my apartment, so I didn't take her in. Next morning when I opened the door she was still sitting there; I ignored her. I ignored her for a whole week, but there she was, still at my side. I had to give up. I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone, and she never has. I know she never will."

Starsky's story didn't make sense. Left a homeless woman outside his door? In the night?

"Err... you have a picture of her?" Hutch asked, because he knew very well there was one in Starsky's leather wallet.

"Sure. I always carry her with me. My little guardian angel. She saved my life!" Starsky again held that dreamy, soft expression, and his voice had gone all mellow.

Starsky picked up his wallet, which was on the dining table, and pulled a photo out of it.

Hutch couldn't believe his eyes. "I thought Shaye was your girlfriend."

"She is, of course!" Starsky said defensively. "She is my girl, the one and only."

"Alright, alright. Let's say that I thought you were talking about a human being."

"Ahh... she's as human as you and me."

Hutch looked at the picture of a mischievous looking, little brown and white mutt. The girl who was the love of his life; the girl who had saved his life; the one and only. Hutch found himself shaking his head to and fro. She was just a little dog.

"What?" Starsky asked, frowning.

"Nothing," Hutch said smiling. "So how did Shaye stop your nightmares?"

"She slept with me," Starsky said putting back the photo into his wallet.

"Oh, for how long?" Hutch couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know. Shaye still sleeps with me." Starsky turned back to the newspapers and took a sip of his coffee.

 "Not anymore; not when you are here in LA," Hutch said grinning wickedly.

"You know," Starsky said, ignoring Hutch's comment, "Maybe you should get a dog." 

"A dog? Here in LA? Are you nuts?" Hutch snapped. "There's no place to keep him, and how on earth do you manage Shaye, anyway? I mean our schedules are never the same. How on earth do you take care of a dog?"

"If I can make time to take a shower, eat a burrito, and talk to friends, do you think I can't find time for Shaye?"

"But you have to exercise her- feed her- give her-- burritos? You like burritos?" Hutch asked, frowning.

"I do all of that, besides, Captain Dobey's kids are nuts about her. So whenever I have to go away, they take care of her, and she loves them too. And then there's Minnie and Huggy and--"

"Okay, okay. I get the picture," Hutch said, not knowing who the hell 'Minnie' or 'Huggy' was. Huggy? What sort of a name was that, anyway?

Starsky pushed his chair back and stood up, taking his empty coffee mug to the kitchen. "And yes, I do like burritos, and so does Shaye."

"So yesterday, over the phone, you were talking to Shaye? A dog?" Hutch asked, ignoring the part on burritos.

"Of course. She understands everything I say." Starsky poured another cup of coffee and stirred in two spoonsful of sugar.

"Oh, yeah? And I can remember you telling her that you were staying with a 'he,' not a 'she.' Are you telling me that Shaye asked you whether you were staying with a woman?"

"Of course she did," said Starsky, leaning against the kitchen counter. "What type of a dumb question is that? Like I said, Shaye understands me, and I understand everything that goes on in her head; believe me, Shaye's no ordinary dog, Hutch. She is one special lady."

I bet she is, and from the looks of it, she has you wrapped around her little finger… or toe... or whatever.

Hutch had no idea what was so special about a shaggy, little dog, who had lived on the streets, probably learning to fight from all the big dogs around, and surviving. If you are just a little dog, but had the ability to survive the streets, you'd have to be intelligent, smart, quick, and witty.

"A street-smart girl, eh?" Hutch asked.

Starsky smiled. "Yup, just like me, she was a street kid."

Hutch made a mental note to ask all about Starsky's 'street' life later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Chapter 4: Sleeping Arrangements

Hutch looked at the clock for the umpteenth time, wondering where on earth Starsky went and what he could possibly be doing.

That morning, after breakfast, Hutch had noticed that Starsky was lost in his own thoughts. When he'd asked what he would like to do today, Starsky replied that he had something to do by himself and that he would see Hutch later in the afternoon.

Afternoon had passed a long time ago, and it was almost seven o'clock at night. Hutch was getting worried. 

***

Starsky went shopping; looking for something he thought would help Hutch once he went back to Bay City. Then later in the afternoon he had met with Damian at his home, surprising him, because Damian thought Starsky had left LA.

"Okay- so let me get this straight, you decided to stay in LA for a week, and you are staying with Hutchinson? What the hell? Why didn't you come here?" Damian asked accusingly.

"Hutch needed some time off, just like me… so I thought, why not get together with him and do some sightseeing." Starsky made himself comfortable on a porch chair in the backyard of Damian's house.

"That's a first. He's not even your type. I mean, he's your opposite on everything, but on the other hand, I can see why you two might hit it together," Damian said, handing over a root beer to Starsky.

"Why's that?" Starsky twisted-off the cap and took a swig of his drink.

"You get into trouble all the time," Damain said matter-of-factly, giving Starsky a cat-like smile. "And I think Hutch might just be the person to stop you from doing idiotic things."

"Very funny!"

Damian pulled his chair closer to Starsky. "I'm serious, Starsky. Hutch is very analytical, very careful, and very thorough in everything he does. And you- you are willing to jump into anything with both feet, and head and arms and--"

"I'm still in one piece though, ain't I? And nobody came to rescue me from anything."

"I would say that you got lucky, but you need a partner, and Hutch might be the person."

"Partner? For me? Hutch? Nah," Starsky said, shrugging off the entire thing. "I'm good by myself, and I'm not in the LAPD anyway."

"You can get a transfer."

"You kiddin'me? Transfer from Bay City? No way, never, BC's my home."

"Then maybe you can get Hutch to transfer."

"Listen-" Starsky said, exasperated. "I don't need a partner- period!"

"This isn't just a vacation for you, Starsky. I know you better than that." Damian stared at Starsky for a moment. "You stayed back because of him. Something clicked when I told you about Hutch and about the case he worked, and how he was affected by it. You saw yourself in him, and that's why you stayed behind."

Starsky sighed. Damian knew him too well.

"Still the same Starsky with the heart of gold." Damian slapped Starsky on his shoulder. "You just had to help him. Everything happens for a reason, you know. I don't think you coming to LA and meeting Hutch was a coincidence. Fate had something to do with all of that."

Starsky stared aghast at his friend. "Jeez- never knew you believed in that mumbo jumbo. Do you believe that what happens in our life is something we can't control? That fate's already made those decisions for us?"

"Got you worried- didn't I? Afraid of being 'not' in control? Listen, man, we make our own decisions, yes! - But there are things that we can't control- or at least there are some things in life that can't be explained. And yes, I believe fate and destiny has something to do with those events. So yes, I think fate brought you and Hutch together. Just think of it, you were planning to go home on Saturday. Did you tell Hutch that we were going to eat at the Blue Orchid?"

"No."

"But he was there, and you could've just walked away, too, but instead, you decided to talk to him."

"Yes, exactly- I decided to talk to him- I made that decision, not fate."

"Yes, but fate put you two together, in the same place, at the same time," Damian insisted, not giving up on his theory.

"Arrrrhhhg, you are insane, you know that?" Starsky waved his hand impatiently.

"Oh, I don't think so, and you know it too, Starsky, you know what I say makes sense, and it scares the hell out of you."

"Yeaa... you got that right." Starsky's jaw tightened as he slid forward, his elbows propped on his knees. "It does scare the hell out of me to think that my good buddy is tryin' to put his life in the hands of fate."

"Ah, Starsky- you know that's not what I'm saying."

"Okay, then, stop this bullshit, and tell me whether we can all go out for dinner sometime? You and your lovely wife Daisy, and your kids- and us," Starsky changed the subject to something he was comfortable talking about.

"I like that," Damian agreed immediately. "When do you want to go?"

"I have the whole week. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Damian thought for a while and shook his head. "No- Mondays are bad, but Tuesdays are much better. I don't think we can bring the kids. It'll be too late for them, but Daisy and I can make it for sure."

"Alright, then. On Tuesday, call Hutch's place when you're done."

"Sure thing... I'll need the phone number. I don't think I have his home phone number with me."

Starsky groaned. "And I had to come all the way from BC to give you his number?" Starsky wrote down Hutch's telephone number, grumbling.

***

It was close to eight when Starsky finally left Damian's place and went back to Hutch's apartment. Having someone for a partner was more than just 'liking' someone or 'feeling' something for someone. A partner is someone whom you trust to watch your back, someone whom you trust with your life, and that trust just doesn't happen overnight. Thinking of forming a partnership with someone whom you got to know just a couple of days ago was not the rational thing to do: Yeah right- as if anything that had happened from the time I met Hutch has been very rational!

"I was about to call the cavalry," Hutch said as soon as he saw Starsky at his door.

"Oh yeah?" Starsky was amused at Hutch's annoyance. 

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Here and there, shopping. Met with Damian... you and I are gonna go to dinner with him and his wife on Tuesday," Starsky announced.

"We bought what we wanted yesterday, why did you go -- did you say dinner with Damian?" Hutch still sounded annoyed.

"You don't want to?"

"No- nothing like that," Hutch answered hurriedly. "I just asked. So what did you buy today?" Hutch eyed the big bag Starsky had brought.

"What's for dinner? Are we going out or--" Starsky asked ignoring Hutch's question.

"I've already cooked."

"Ohh, whaddya make?"

"You'll see. Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll set the table. "

Starsky raised his eye brows, but said nothing.

***

Hutch glanced at the bathroom door from time to time, while setting the table and stealing looks at the big bag Starsky had in the living room. He noticed how Starsky evaded questions about the shopping, and he was curious about what was in the bag.

When Starsky was back from his shower, Hutch's irritable mood had vanished. He smiled shyly when Starsky went to the table and eyed the delicious-looking dishes. Hutch had prepared beef stroganoff for dinner. He'd wanted to make this vacation a memorable one, and cooking something special whenever he got the chance was at the top of his 'to do' list. After all, he was a good cook and Starsky loved food. A match made in heaven!

"Like what you see?" Hutch asked, lifting the covers off the dishes.

"Wow," Starsky exclaimed. "What are we celebrating?" he asked, pulling a chair out.  "How did you learn to cook?" Starsky passed his plate to Hutch.

"My grandfather – all summer vacations," Hutch said shortly, piling up their plates with the stroganoff and egg noodles.

Obviously, Starsky heard not only what Hutch said, but specifically what he didn't say; like the fact that his parents didn't want him around during vacations, that it was not his parents who taught him normal ways of life, that he was more close to his grandparents than to his own parents, and that he did not want to talk about it. Hutch was thankful when Starsky didn't ask any more questions about his culinary skills.

"So what's in the bag?" Hutch asked changing the subject.

"Oh, that? – That's somethin' I had to get."

"So what is it?"

"A kind of a sheet," Starsky said without looking at Hutch.

"A sheet? Whhhyy… Starsky, couldn't you find one you liked in Bay City?"

"Didn't need one until I got here," muttered Starsky under his breath.

"What?"

"Nuthin'."

"So you don't want me to see this special sheet of yours?"

"Nuthin' special."

"Now why would you spend a whole day shopping for this one sheet if it wasn't special?"

Starsky glared at Hutch, and he stopped asking questions.

After dinner, Hutch excused himself to take the garbage out. When he returned, Starsky was on the couch, watching TV, looking rather pleased with himself. The large package was nowhere in sight.

So where did the 'sheet' go? Hutch looked around. There wasn't a sheet on the couch or anywhere else in the living room. He took a quick look in his room, but his bed didn't look any different. He gave up trying to find the mysterious sheet, and went back to the living room.

"What are you watching?" Hutch asked, lowering himself on the couch and scooting down a little bit to lean his head against the back.     

"Ironside."

"Marathon tonight?"

"Uh huh."

"You like the show?"

"Uh huh."

Hutch turned his head slightly to look at Starsky who was completely engrossed in the show. He, too, tried to pay attention to the show but lost interest pretty soon. His eyelids were getting heavier by the minute, and he gladly welcomed the sleep that swept over him, which never came easily.

**

Starsky realized Hutch was asleep when he heard the soft breathing. Just what he wanted. Once Starsky figured out what initiated Hutch's nightmares, it was easy to find a remedy. Cold triggered the train of events, bringing about the images of the buried kids, and filling Hutch's sleep with nightmares. Whenever Starsky was near him, with him, Hutch was able to fall asleep. Although it was not just the warmness that kept the nightmares away, Starsky knew that keeping Hutch warm was the first step to get him to sleep. Once he got used to sleeping in the bed while Starsky was still around, he may be able to sleep with little or no problem once he left; that was what Starsky counted on.

Now all he had to do was get Hutch into bed, but his plans were interrupted when the telephone rang. Hutch woke up with a jolt.

Starsky cursed under his breath. Dammit! Why did this have to ring now?

"Do you want me to get it?" Starsky asked.

"What?" Hutch stared at Starsky blinking sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, Blondie." Starsky brushed his knuckles against Hutch's cheeks. "I'll get it."

Stepping over Hutch's legs, Starsky crossed the room to the dining table, to snatch up the noisy telephone that kept on ringing.  "Hutchinson residence. Who's this?" he asked, leaning against a chair.

The person at the other end didn't speak. Instead, Starsky heard heavy breathing. "Who is this?" Starsky asked again, frowning.

The heavy breathing stopped. "Dae, it's me."

Starsky closed his eyes upon hearing the familiar voice, gripping the phone tightly. Leo! After six months… It was about time!

 "What do you want?" Starsky asked, wondering how long Leo may have been tracking down his whereabouts. Starsky had felt him at the court parking lot that last day.

"There's only one thing I want."

Starsky rubbed his jaw, rife with surging adrenalin. "We have to talk."

"I know, Dae, but I have to know something."

"What?"

"Why Hutchinson?"

Starsky's heart sank. "What? What do you mean?"

"Why are you with Hutchinson?"

Starsky stared uneasily at the space in front of him. Shit! He cursed himself. He had put Hutch in danger. He partly raised a clenched fist, and let it fall slowly along the back of the chair. "He's a friend, Leo." Starsky answered steadily.

  "I want to believe you, but is that the truth? Tell me, Dae. Tell me that he means nothing to you."

"He's just a friend," Starsky repeated.

"I will see you soon... we will be together, soon."

"Leo... Leo?" Starsky called into the phone, but Leo had already hung up.

Starsky replaced the receiver and walked back to the couch with a heavy heart. He couldn't leave now. Hutch's life was in danger.

"Who was it, Starsk?" Hutch asked, yawning.

 Starsky noticed the shortened 'Starsk' version of his name Hutch had used. No one had called him that before, and he felt a comfortable warmth spreading within him. Who would've thought that omitting one letter from his name would make him happy and content? But Starsky had always appreciated the little things in his life. Small things meant big. It wasn't just a nick-name. It was a nick-name given by a man who had captured Starsky's heart in a very special way. And a little change of name indicated that those feelings were mutual. He pulled Hutch's head onto his shoulder. "Someone I know. You have nothing to worry. Go back to sleep."

"Who's Leo? How did he know you were here?"

Starsky sighed. So Hutch had heard some of it. "What is with these twenty questions, huh? Just sleep."

"Okay," Hutch sighed sleepily, settling back on Starsky's shoulder.

Starsky tightened his hold on Hutch, promising silently that he would never allow any darkness touch him.

***

The next morning Hutch woke up feeling warm and comfortable. He had, again, slept the whole night without any trouble. Of course- Starsky was sitting right next to him when he slept, and probably was still with him. He opened his eyes, stretching his hands and feet, and sitting up. He wasn't on the couch. He was in his bedroom, in his bed, but he was all by himself.

Hutch threw away the covers noticing that something felt different. Why was his bed so warm? He pulled out the bed sheet to find something beneath it. Another sheet that he had never had before and it was all warm. What the hell?

"Like what you see, Blondie, or should I ask like what you feel?"

Hutch raised his head. Starsky stood leaning on the bedroom door frame, smiling triumphantly.

"What's this?" Hutch pulled at a sheet that was deliciously warm, recalling their conversations of the other day. So was this the result of Starsky's secret shopping?

"Slept well, didn't ya?"

Hutch nodded. "So what's it with this thing?"

"That's a heated mattress pad."

Starsky walked over and sat on the floor at the bed. He pulled a cord that extended from the sheet over to the wall socket.  "You have to plug it in for about ten minutes before you get to bed. You can adjust how hot you need this thing to be. Mark my words, Hutch. You don't want this to be too hot. It'll feel like a sauna. In the morning just switch it off or pull the plug."

Hutch examined the temperature adjustments, which were very low, low-medium, medium, high-medium and high. Starsky had selected low-medium for him. It was just perfect. "When did you put this on my bed?"

Starsky chuckled. "And you call yourself a detective?"

Hutch almost asked how Starsky got him to the bed without waking him up, but decided against it. He would never get a straight answer. That much he knew about the guy by now.

They had met just three days ago, but what Starsky had done was more than anyone had ever done for him during his lifetime. It was not just how much Starsky had done. It was about what he had done. It was the fact that Starsky felt and understood exactly what Hutch was going through and what he needed. Starsky had taken the time to be with Hutch, and make him comfortable, and now he had done something to make sure Hutch would be all right once he left.

"So, you're dumping me?" Hutch asked, smiling.

"I'm giving you a better replacement," Starsky said as he stood up.

"No one's ever done something like this for me," Hutch said solemnly.

"Are you tellin' me that the men you slept with never bought you anything? Tsk tsk tsk… that's sad!"

"Idiot! – you know what I mean."

"Not a big deal. Leave it, will ya- It was the cold. That's what kept you from falling asleep."

Hutch was speechless for a moment. Apparently, Starsky had figured out what initiated Hutch's nightmares and found a remedy. Cold triggered the train of events, bringing about the images of the buried kids, and filling Hutch's sleep with nightmares. Whenever Starsky was near him, with him, Hutch was able to fall asleep. Although it was not just the warmness that kept the nightmares away, creating a warm environment may very well be the first step to get Hutch to sleep.

"Starsky?"

"Hmm?"

"You know that… I'm not… I mean... I didn't… I wasn't," Hutch stuttered, scratching the back of his head, not knowing how to get his thoughts together.

"Stop worrying. I know what you're feelin', Hutch, and I know you're not into me; not that way, you've got used to livin' by yourself and forgotten all about how it feels to have a friend. When was the last time you invited someone here to your apartment?"

"Well… I… Umm, let me see." Hutch searched his memory but came up empty.

"You haven't even had a date in ages, have you?"

Hutch shook his head.

"That explains it. I was the only contact you've had for a long time, Hutch."

"So all I needed was to have someone with me?" Hutch asked.

"You needed a friend."

What Starsky said made sense, but Hutch knew very well, oh, yes he knew. It wasn't about having human contact of any kind. Just any person out there could not have done what Starsky had done, because none of them would have had the understanding, kindheartedness, love, compassion, and tolerance Starsky had shown him. Moreover, Hutch would not have allowed anyone else to get closer to him this way.

Hutch shrugged his shoulders "I guess you're right," he agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Chapter 5. Museums: A Journey to the Past

Hutch announced that he had plans for them for the day, but didn't say what exactly they were. They drove in Hutch's old Ford LTD. Hutch noticed that Starsky took extra care scanning the surroundings before getting into the car as if he was on the watch out for someone. Hutch remembered bits and pieces of the conversation of the night before. He had also not forgotten the conversation Starsky had had with his captain the other day, and last nights' mysterious phone call. Who is Leo?

"So where are we going?" Starsky asked, two minutes into the drive.

"Costa Mesa," Hutch replied.

"Costa Mesa?" Starsky asked suspiciously. "There's only one thing that I would wanna do in Costa Mesa, but I'm not sure about you."

"Gee… I don't know what you're talking about," Hutch said, mischievously.

They drove for forty-five minutes, Starsky constantly checking the rear- and side- view mirrors.

When Hutch turned towards the tall brown building, Starsky's eyes widened with surprise. "I'll be damned," he said, his smile extending all the way towards his ears. "Briggs Cunningham Automotive Museum."

A pale blue Chevy Impala entered the parking lot just as Starsky and Hutch stepped inside the building.

Although Hutch didn't care much about cars, he knew, by then, how much Starsky loved his car, and how much he knew about them. The Briggs Cunningham Museum had the best collection of racing cars.

Hutch had never seen anyone as excited as Starsky was with all the vehicles. Starsky practically knew each and every car in the museum. It was just amazing.

"This is the 1934 Ford Roadster used in the Bonnie and Clyde movie," Starsky pointed towards a black Ford Roadster. Hutch bent towards the description written below and read what was in it. Starsky was correct, and he only had to take one look at the car to know what it was.

"And this is a 1919 Pierce Arrow Phaeton. Do you know who used this?"

Hutch shook his head.

"This was custom-built for Fatty Arbuckle, you know, the comedian," Starsky explained.

"Uh huh. Wasn't he charged with-"

"Yep, but it was a set up. He never raped anyone."

"How do you know? You weren't even born then."

"When did the Golden Gate Bridge open?" Starsky asked, and Hutch couldn't imagine for once why that mattered.

"I think… in 1937," Hutch replied.

"Well, how do you know? You weren't born then either."

Hutch just bit his tongue.

"Now look at this." Starsky pointed to a coupe convertible. "This beauty was built for Queen Elizabeth. This is a 1949 Daimler." He turned to his right and gasped. "This is something you will never see," Starsky said, walking towards a Cadillac.

"A Cadillac?" Hutch frowned.

"Not just a Cadillac, Hutch. This is a 1950 bullet proofed Cadillac Fleetwood."

"Bullet proofed? Now who used this? Truman?"

"This was made for none other than Mickey Cohen."

"The gangster?" Hutch raised his eye brows.

"Any other Mickey Cohens you know about?" 

How the hell did Starsky know about all of these cars? He was like a talking car encyclopedia. Starsky went on and on and on, describing almost every car in the museum. "This is a 1933 Bentley... 1933 MG K3 Magnette… and these are the Cunningham Sports cars. Ah, Hutch, see this- the 1951 C-1, and this is the 1952 C-4R. You should've seen this on the racing track," he said, admiring a white sports car with two blue parallel stripes in the center that ran all the way from front to rear. 

Hutch stood close to Starsky. He laid his hand on Starsky's shoulder and leaned towards him. "You have a thing for stripes, don't you?" he teased.

Hutch's head buzzed with cars, model names, and their history when they left the museum after spending the whole morning in there. Starsky glanced at the cars in the parking lot. Hutch did the same, though he didn't know what he was searching for.

Starsky couldn't stop talking about the cars during their drive back to Los Angeles, but he also didn't fail to check the rear view mirror, Hutch noticed.

In the afternoon Hutch took him to another museum; The LA County Museum of Natural History, in which of course, Starsky spent the whole time in the automobile section. It was the home for a collection of automobiles from 1900 to 1963, although most of them were of the pre-1920 era.

Starsky informed Hutch that the museum had recently begun an automobile restoration program, and had plans to restore one car per year; some of them were already on display. Hutch lived in LA, but never knew any of that.

At the end of the day, when they had finally finished at the LA museum, Hutch felt that he had seen enough cars for his whole life. He didn't even want to drive his own anymore.

While walking back to Hutch's car in the parking lot of the LA county museum, Starsky stopped dead in his tracks.

Hutch followed Starsky's stare to a blue Chevy parked at the South corner of the lot.    

***

"Best day in my life- ever," Starsky said, sitting on the couch in Hutch's apartment with a beer in his hand.

"I'm glad you liked the museums," Hutch said, joining Starsky on the sofa, and thumbing the TV remote. He had just enjoyed a very greasy, but satisfying Chinese dinner with Starsky.

Starsky turned to face Hutch. "Like doesn't even come close to what I feel. It was just... perfect."

"That was the point, Starsk."

"Uh huh. So where are we going tomorrow?"

"There are a couple of places we could go."

"How about a plant museum? Something you would like to spend the day in? This is your vacation, too, you know?"

"Plant museum?" Hutch asked, smiling. "You mean a Botanical Garden or an arboretum?"

"Yeah. One of those."

"You sure?"

"Yeah... why not?" Starsky leaned back, relaxing against the sofa cushion.

"Okay, then. I know just the place to go, but are you really sure you want to go to one of those?"

"I'm sure, 'sides, you can teach me all about the green critters. Tomorrow's your day."

"We can go to Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden. It's in Claremont. Just a forty five minute drive, like today."

"Have you been there before?"

"Of course," Hutch replied, and before he could continue to say that it was the first place he visited after moving to LA, the phone started to ring, startling both of them.

Annoyed at the interruption, Hutch chose to ignore the noise, hoping whoever wanted to talk would eventually give up. 

"So do you want to go to the same place again?" asked Starsky, glancing at the ringing phone.

Realizing that the caller wasn't giving up, Hutch stood up. He placed his beer on the coffee table and marched off to the dining set. "There's something new all the time. Plants don't stay the same," he said, leaning over and grabbing the receiver. "Hutchinson here."

The caller identified himself as Captain Dobey, and asked for Starsky.

Hutch signaled Starsky. "Your captain," he said, adding, "Wouldn't you want to go back to your car museums?"

"What does he want?" Starsky mumbled, taking the phone from Hutch. "Cap'n, I'm on vacation," Starsky said gruffly and turned back towards Hutch, "Of course I would wanna see the car museums, any time, any day, any--"

Hutch fell back on the couch. It didn't take that long to realize that something was out of the ordinary when Starsky stopped in the middle of a sentence, his smile disappearing.

"I didn't lie to you," said Starsky, looking grim, but determined.

~~

"He's not. Leave him out of this. This is between you and me."

~~

Starsky wasn't talking to Captain Dobey.

Starsky lowered his eyes to the floor. "You say that all the time, but when?"

~~

Starsky breathed in frustration. "I won't stay in LA much longer," he shouted into the telephone and hung up. He placed his palms on the table and leaned on them.

"Well, Starsky, from the sound of it, looks like I've made your boyfriend very jealous," Hutch stated the obvious.

Starsky turned around and stared at Hutch for a few seconds. "We have to talk."

Hutch felt goosebumps rise all over his body. Attempting to get rid of the tingly feeling, Hutch rubbed his palms over his legs, and motioned Starsky to come over to the couch.

Starsky sat on the comfortable chair in front of Hutch. His shoulders slumped and hands clasped together. He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. "Tell me what you've heard about Scaris."

Scaris? What had he got to with all these phone calls? Though Scaris was the reason Starsky was in LA, during their conversations, Starsky never mentioned the killer who had almost succeeded in taking his life.

"Well…" Hutch paused for a while, "All what I know is that he kidnapped, tortured and killed men."

"Did you ever wonder why?" Starsky asked.

"He targeted young men. So that means power, control, and sexual fantasy?"

"There wasn't anything sexual in the killings. The men were not raped, but tortured in ways you won't even believe possible." Starsky sighed, his eyes turned downcast and bleak.

Hutch clenched his teeth, feeling the darkness that clouded Starsky's mind.

"Scaris targeted gays. Believed they were a menace to human kind, and took steps to clean the streets by eliminating them. We kept that bit of information from the public. Didn't want to create copycat-followers."

Hutch nodded in agreement. In cases like this, sensitive information was often withheld from public disclosure. Scaris had refused to take the stand at his trial. He had given a statement to the police, confessing to all of his crimes.

The trial revealed Starsky's role as an undercover officer in capturing Scaris, but details of his cover had not surfaced. And according to Starsky if Scaris hated gays, and had gone after and picked up gays… that meant one thing. "Geez, Starsky, so you went undercover like a --?"

"Yup."

As detectives, that's what they did; they went undercover; they went in disguise; yes, but Hutch just didn't like the idea of Starsky on the streets posing as a gay prostitute. Did he have a partner watching his back?

"Who was your backup while you were on this mission?" asked Hutch, wincing at the thought of Starsky posing as a prostitute.

"Two of our officers, Babcock and Simmons, they watched me every second. The plan was to follow me if I left the scene with a man. If I went into a house or an apartment or whatever, and didn't come out within ten minutes, they were to come in."

"Ten minutes?" Hutch sighed. He remembered the trial, or at least what was revealed during the trial… that it was a matter of seconds between life and death for Starsky, that he could have been killed just like the others.

"Scaris wasn't killing his men right away, Hutch. He took his time with them. Ten minutes gave me enough time to find out what they really wanted. If it was sex, I would make an excuse and walk out because at that point we knew from the autopsies that the men were not sexually violated. So whoever got them didn't have sex or forced them to do any sort'a thing. We knew they were hate crimes against gays."

"How did he pick the guys?"

"He may have done it by himself at the beginning, but later… someone else did the picking. We didn't know it then. Not until I was picked."

"Wha--What? So there were two in this? Does that mean there is someone like Scaris still out there?" As soon as the words escaped him, Hutch knew who it was. Shit! "Leo? Is that him?"

"Yes."

Nothing made sense anymore. "What's all this, Starsk?  From what I heard, from what you said on the phone--"

"Yes, in Leo's mind- I belong to him."

"I need another beer." Hutch stood up. Hell... he needed something stronger. Abandoning the thoughts of the beer, he reached for the scotch and a glass. 

"Scaris hated gays; so he killed gays. Then what's with Leo? If he worked with Scaris, didn't he hate gays, too? Then why the heck is he acting like a jealous boyfriend?" Hutch asked, pouring some whiskey for himself.

"You know the irony of it, Hutch? Leo is Scaris's son, and Leo is gay. A secret Leo hid from his father against all odds, until the day he met me." 

Everything was a big puzzle, and Hutch was intrigued.

Hutch settled back on the sofa, leaving the glass on the coffee table. "What was in it for Leo? Doesn't make sense why he helped Scaris."

"Leo's mother died when he was a kid. According to Leo, he didn't kill any of the men. He only helped Scaris by luring them into his den, but nobody except Leo knows the truth."

Starsky went quiet for a moment. He swirled the beer, watching the bubbles rising from it. "Leo was afraid of Scaris and of what he could do him if he found out that Leo was gay, and then... there was another reason; the real motive when it came to Leo, which we didn't know at that point because we didn't know that there were two people involved in the killings."

"Just hold on… I need to know everything; start from the beginning," Hutch interrupted. "What was the real reason behind Leo picking you up?"

"All that we knew was someone was targeting men, and when we searched the backgrounds of the dead, we came to know they were also prostitutes. We poked around but didn't get lucky. No one had any idea who was involved with the killings, because no one knew who was going with whom… if you know what I mean. So unless we had someone undercover, there was no way to find out."

Hutch scoffed. "Whoever went on that assignment could have gotten killed-- had a big chance of getting killed, and you-- you didn't want anyone else putting their lives in danger! Does your life mean so little to you, Starsky?"

Hutch's outburst took Starsky by surprise. "Hey... what's this all about?"

"Nothing, go on... Sorry, I just lost my head for a moment." Hutch took a swallow of the hard liquor, feeling it burn all the way to his stomach.

Starsky stared at him, silently.

Hutch kept his eyes on the glass, avoiding Starsky's glare. "It is just that, you know… long before you even came to LA, Damian always talked about you, in Nam, and all the time when I listened to his stories, I wondered why the hell you always put your life on the line for others, and then this--"

"You can be a real mother hen," Starsky muttered under his breath. He finished the rest of his beer and stood up. He walked over to the kitchen and dumped the empty bottle in the trash. "Do you still wanna hear more, or should I stop?"

"Sorry, got side-tracked. Go on. So you were mingling with the fancy boys"

Getting another beer from the refrigerator, Starsky crossed to the window in the living room that overlooked the street below. "There were certain areas where these guys hung out," Starsky said, pulling the curtains open slightly and skimming the streets. "I was picked up by couple of men before Leo got hold of me. It didn't take that long to realize what they really wanted, and when I found out that murder was the last thing in their mind, I gave them the boot."

Starsky turned away from the window and leaned against it, crossing his legs. "Hutch, they meant no harm. They were just men, like us."

"No, they aren't. They had different intentions."

"Geez man… how the hell could we work as partners if you start acting like a mother hen?"

Hutch's jaw dropped with surprise. "Partners?" Was Starsky suggesting that he would like to work with Hutch? Was Starsky considering transferring to LA for good? Hutch felt blood rushing up to the roots of his hair.

"Do you really mean it?" Hutch wanted to make sure.

"Ah, I don't know. Damian mentioned it to me the other day, and... I don't know. It just seemed like a good idea."

"If… if you really want us to be partners, does that mean you'll get transferred to LA?"

"Or-- you can get transferred to BC. That's something we can think about later, but for now, we have to tackle the problem we have on our hands."

"Yes... right. Leo," said Hutch, attempting to drag his thoughts away from all the possibilities of working together with a real friend, a man with integrity, someone who really understood and got him. "So what happened when Leo found you?"

"Well… he was kind of different, Hutch." Starsky said after thinking for a while. "From the very first time I laid eyes on Leo, I just felt that he was not the kind that went for prostitutes. I felt that he was looking for something permanent."

"And in you he saw something permanent?" Hutch asked grudgingly.

"Maybe, and it didn't take that long for him to figure out that I had no experience with men. He called me Dae, a shortened version for Daegon, or sometimes he called me Daffyd."

Hutch walked over to where Starsky was standing, at the window. "Daegon means dark-haired in Gaelic. Daffyd is the same as David, and it means 'beloved.' Did you introduce yourself as David?" he asked, pulling out a chair from the dining table.

"No."

Hutch sat, facing Starsky. "Leo nicknamed you as my beloved dark-haired man, not even knowing that a part was your true name. Don't you think that's interesting? Maybe he knew who you were."

"The first time he called me Daffyd, I thought so too, but no, Leo didn't know that I was an undercover officer until the day I escaped."

"In that case, guess you were meant to be."

"Oh, Jesus... You're starting to sound like Damian now." 

"Damian? What did I say to sound like Damian?" Hutch snapped. "Never mind," he said immediately, raising his hand and stopping Starsky from giving any explanation. "Tell me what happened with Leo."

"I need to go to the john first." Starsky excused himself.

***

Starsky had not related the whole incident to anyone else before, but now as Leo had resurfaced, he knew it was time to talk to Hutch about it. Starsky joined Hutch at the dining table, sitting next to him. His mind went back to that night.

Six months ago…

Leo approached Starsky. He was just like another ordinary guy; medium height, masculine, blond. He had some kind of an aura about him, and strikingly bright, piercing green eyes. Starsky introduced himself as 'John.' Leo invited Starsky to his apartment, where someone else had stuck a needle in him.

Starsky woke up sometime later with a splitting headache, in a room that was dimly lit. He didn't know how long he was unconscious. The only piece of clothing on his body was his underpants. His arms were tied above his head onto a ring that was hanging from the roof, and his legs were tied to two poles, side by side, on the ground.

"I knew I was a dead man when I saw what was in the room," Starsky said, remembering the whips, belts, and chains that hung around the walls. "It wasn't Leo's apartment. I would've kicked myself for getting captured like that, if my legs weren't tied up."

"So why didn't your backup show?"

"Scaris had been watching Leo. He may have watched him on other days as well or at least on some of the other days. Leo had always taken the men straight to Scaris's house because Leo had no interest in them, but that day, with me, it was different. Leo took me to his apartment and Scaris who had been watching Leo-"

"Followed you, and found Babcock and Simmons tailing you," Hutch finished Starsky's sentence.

"Yes- and when Babcock and Simmons came into the apartment complex looking for me, Scaris attacked them. Then he got to Leo's apartment, demanding to know why Leo had brought me there without taking me to his house. I don't know what went between the two of them, but whatever Leo tried to tell him, Scaris didn't believe it, and I ended up in his house, anyway."

Starsky was held in that room for three days. Scaris had questioned him about who he really was; whether he was Leo's lover; did he know about the two men who followed them. Starsky had remained silent. The events that took place during those days were not something Starsky wanted to elaborate on, and Hutch didn't want to hear the details anymore; the trial had revealed most of it, if not all.

"So how did you get out?"

"One morning, I guess it was morning, I'm not really sure… I heard Leo calling me from outside the room."

Leo hid outside Scaris's house waiting for Scaris to leave the grounds. He let himself in, but when he tried to unlock the door to the room where Starsky and all other men before Starsky were held captured, he found that Scaris had changed the locks so that Leo would have no access to the room. Scaris may have anticipated that Leo would try to get into the room because the man in the room this time wasn't chosen by Leo to be killed. And that was yet another reason for Scaris to kill Starsky.

"Dae... are you in there? Talk to me," Leo called out, pounding at the door.

 Starsky was too weak to speak.

Leo had tried to pick the lock, but failed. Then he tried to kick it in and failed again. "Oh, God, what have I done?"  Leo had sobbed miserably.

"Did he get to you?" Hutch asked.

"No. He couldn't, and then I think Scaris came back, so Leo fled. I was still there, tasting what twelve other guys had tasted before me. I knew, pretty soon, Scaris was gonna kill me just like he did the others. It was then that it hit me-- the floor of the room wasn't covered with blood as it should've been."

"What do you mean?"

"Like I said, all the men died of profuse bleeding from stab wounds. If Scaris had stabbed them and let them die in the room, then the floor should be covered by blood- or else he should have cleaned up after each murder, right?"

"Right. Ah, I see. The floor wasn't clean, and it wasn't bloody either?"

"Yup! He didn't want to spend time cleaning the blood, so he killed them somewhere else. I still had a chance to escape when he was transporting me, and this time he didn't have Leo to help him. He would have had to drug me before taking me anywhere. So when he came to the room next time, I played dead."

"He fell for it?" Hutch wondered how Starsky kept a level head amidst of all the pain and torture.

"Well... he wanted to make sure I wasn't faking it. I mean, of course he knew I wasn't dead– dead, but he figured I was good as dead."

"He wouldn't have let go that easily."

"No, he didn't, but by then I wasn't feeling anything. Coming from Nam, physical pain wasn't a big deal."

"How could you speak of it so lightly?" Hutch sighed, and rubbed his palms over his face. "What happened after that?"

Keeping Starsky's wrists tied together, Scaris untied and freed his arms from the rope that was hanging from the roof. Starsky couldn't move his legs or arms. He had been tied up for three days, and his body had given up on him. He lay dead, until the blood circulation took its course. The tremors that felt like little insects under his skin were unbearable.

"Little by little, I started to feel my feet and arms, and that was even worse. Hutch I'm telling ya, you don't wanna be poked with millions and millions of pins. For a second I wished I was still tied up."

Hutch smiled, faintly.

"Anyway… there I was, on the floor, trying my best to not twitch, when all that I wanted was to scratch myself and get rid of the little bugs that were crawling in me. I heard Scaris going in and out of the room. I didn't want to open my eyes, but the next time when I felt him moving away from me, I took a chance. Jumped on him and put my arms around his neck. The ropes around my wrists did the rest until his legs gave up and he was on the ground. I thought I had killed him, but he wasn't dead. He was just out for the moment, and every second counted. I dragged myself out of the room. Luck was on my side that day because the key was still in the lock. I locked Scaris inside."

Hutch shook his head. "What if Scaris wasn't fooled that day? What if he drugged you before cutting the ropes?"

"Well… he didn't!"

Hutch let out a pent-up breath. "How did you get out of there?"

"For the rest of the world, Scaris was just a normal guy who led a normal life. He was a security guard for a bed and breakfast lodge in Hockingwood Springs, some good fifty miles away from Bay City. He lived in this house at the end of the Hockingwood compound, which was like some kind of a small jungle. When I came out of the house, all I could see was a damn forest. The house was secluded and away from the bed and breakfast he worked at. I saw a phone and didn't lose time. Called Dobey and asked him to track the signal. I think I passed out on the floor while waiting for the guys to find me."

When Starsky woke up, Leo was kneeling beside him. He held a pair of scissors in one of his hands, and the other was folded into a tight fist.

"You are a cop." It was a mere statement- not an accusation. Leo moved away from Starsky, keeping a safe distance between them.

"Yes," Starsky said, wondering whether Leo was just guessing or whether he listened to Starsky calling for backup.

"You lied to me. You didn't say you were a cop."

"I didn't say I wasn't one either."

"Is he dead?" Leo asked pointing at the door of the room where Scaris was now locked away.

Starsky shook his head.

"You should've killed him," Leo said fiercely. "I didn't want you dead."

"But you wanted others to die?"

"They were all whores. They took Tyler away from me."

"Who's Tyler?"

"He's not important anymore, because I found you, Dae."

"I'm a cop, Leo. I wanted you to find me. I was doing my job."

"Ah, Dae. You know that's not true. You felt something for me, cop or not."

"Turn yourself in. I can help you." Starsky realized Leo wasn't going to stick around. Even if Starsky summoned up the energy to fight Leo, he had no leverage to hold Leo until his fellow officers showed up.

"I'll be back. I'll be back for you. I promise you that," Leo said, backing up towards the door.

"You can't hide forever."

Leo stopped. "Why should I hide?" he asked, surprised. "I haven't killed anyone. My father was the killer. I'll come for you, Dae. My Love."

Leo had not gotten in touch with Starsky until his father's trial was over. It had been six months.

"So who's this guy? Who is Leo for real?"

"His real name's Seth Scaris. He worked at the city library while studying to be a pharmacist. This Tyler person he was talking about happened to be Leo's first gay lover. Once information on Ron Scaris got out, Tyler came to the Police Station. He told us all about Seth. Apparently Seth wasn't gay, or he didn't know he was gay until he met Tyler."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Hutch emptied his drink, and contemplated getting another, but Starsky stopped him as if he could read Hutch's mind.

"Enough," Starsky said, taking away the glass.

"Now who's the mother hen?" asked Hutch, watching Starsky rinsing the glass at the kitchen sink.

Starsky returned to the living room, patting his hands dry with a towel. "That's not mother-henning. That's being responsible."

"Is this how it's going to be, if we become partners?" Hutch asked.

"Now's the time to back out, Blondie."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Starsky," Hutch chuckled. "I don't think you know what you've got yourself into."

"No, I don't." Starsky agreed, laughing. He went back to the window and peeked into the streets. Was Leo watching them?

"So, what was it that you were saying about Leo? That he wasn't gay to begin with?" Hutch asked.

"I mean, he was straight, had dated girls until he met Tyler in college. Tyler had seduced him at a party or something like that, and well, he got more than he bargained for."

"Meaning?"

"Tyler was just looking for some fun. He never meant to be faithful to Leo, but Leo fell in love with him, totally and completely.

"So Tyler never stopped seeing other men, including the sex boys?"

"Wanna complete the rest of the story for me? If you do, I'll get Dobey to pull his strings and get you a transfer to Bay City in no time," said Starsky, flashing a lop-sided grin, leaning against the window, his hands folded across his chest.

"I will hold you to that promise!" Hutch smiled. "Easy. Leo was obsessed with Tyler, and wanted more of the relationship while Tyler was trying to get away from him. Maybe Leo even caught Tyler with some other guy, and not able to handle Leo's possessiveness, Tyler gave him the boot. So Leo started stalking him, keeping tabs on his partners. How am I doing?"

"Have you ever thought of being a detective?" Starsky asked, still grinning.

"But how did the two of them start doing this?" Hutch asked, thoughtfully. "I mean this is not the type of thing you discuss around a dinner table --"

"What do you think?"

"Maybe Scaris had been doing this for a long time, and Leo stumbled upon what his father was up to just by chance. One thing led to another, and long before they were a team. Am I correct?"

"I don't know, because Ron Scaris didn't admit his son's involvement. He didn't even admit he had a son."

Hutch was surprised. "He was ashamed of Leo?"

"Of course! Think of it… Scaris tried to cleanse the society when unknowingly, he himself had bred one of them."

"So how are we going to find Leo?"

"He will come to me, soon."

 "In the parking lot today, that blue Chevy, is that his?"

"I noticed it at both museums. Could be someone visiting automobile museums like us, but I don't believe in coincidences."

"AJB 945," Hutch said. "I got it here." He tapped on his head. "We can get it checked out."

"You won't get anything. If the Chevy is Leo's, most probably the plate would've been stolen or changed, and he may have something different by tomorrow."

"So what are we going to do? Just wait until your lover boy calls you?"

"Leo is a psychopath. Out of the twelve men Scaris killed, four had slept with Tyler."

"Well Starsky, have you slept with men?" Hutch asked jokingly, but his smile disappeared instantly. "Leo suspects us?"

"Think about it. Put yourself in his shoes." Starsky played the moments he and Hutch shared during the past three days. "He may have followed me from the day I came to LA. I felt Leo at the parking lot that day – when we swapped cars. Then we met at the Blue Orchid and I took you to my hotel. We spent the night together in my room. Then the next day, instead of going back home, I moved to your apartment. We went shopping and site seeing, visited museums, and spent the whole day together."

"It would be a miracle if he didn't suspect us after all of that. But maybe we can use this to our advantage. Maybe—"  

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you better stop thinking it, right now!" Starsky warned. "We aren't going to get him in the out by behaving like newly-weds. Forget it. He already thinks we're involved, anyway."

Hutch sighed. "So we just wait?"

"He'll get in touch with me pretty soon. I'm sure of it," Starsky said firmly.

"Starsky... it's not just the fact that he's obsessed with you. It's also the fact that you're the one who can identify him, and-"

"That doesn't mean a thing, Hutch, because we have nothing against him. There's nothing I could say against him. He really tried to stop Scaris from hurting me, and all the guys he picked up for Scaris are dead. So who's gonna testify against him when Scaris won't even admit that Leo is his son?"

"So he'll stay a free man, and the only way to put him behind bars is if he tries something with you?"

"Last time I checked, making phone calls isn't illegal."

Hutch walked over to Starsky, and looked over his shoulders at the streets. "No blue cars, no green-eyed monsters," he said. "We could use some shut-eye. Big day tomorrow; Rancho Santa Ana, and Leo's not going to stop that," Hutch pushed Starsky away from the window.  Watching Starsky from the corner of his eye, Hutch pulled the curtains closed. "Well, maybe we can act like we're involved, but we don't want anyone to--"

"Bedtime, Blondie. You've been watching too many movies, I think." Starsky said, cutting him short.

"Says the man who's hung up on Ironside." Hutch said, a smirk overtaking his lips. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                                    Chapter 6: Going Green

The following morning was bright and sunny. Hutch had packed some goodies and drinks for the outing. They had one whole day to spend outdoors. According to Hutch, even if it wasn't the woods he liked to immerse himself in, the arboretum was still a place of greenery.

"I should get you a greenhouse, not a dog," said Starsky, watching Hutch's constant, self-satisfied smile he'd worn since stepping into the Botanical Gardens. Hutch was glowing with happiness.

"I'm planning on getting one," said Hutch, stopping at a tree that was about eight feet tall and had long, tapering leaves.  "See this Starsky? This is Yucca brevifolia, the Joshua tree."

"So did Joshua find this?"

"No, the Mormon settlers gave it the name because the tree reminded them of Joshua, praying."

"Joshua was a moron? How come?"

"Not a moron." Hutch pursed his lips, glaring at Starsky. "I said Mormons."

"So who's this dude?"

"Joshua? He is a figure in the Hebrew bible."

"Ah, that Joshua. Why didn't you say so in the first place? So, did you study the Hebrew bible?" Starsky asked, but Hutch chose to ignore him.

"This is Yucca schidigera, the Spanish Dagger." Hutch strolled over to a shrub-like small tree with upright branches and bayonet-like leaves.

"Great!! -another cactus?"

"Starsky- Yucca are not cacti. They are totally different from each other. These are from the family Agavaceae."

"Are they Hebrews, too?"

"Who?" Hutch asked, wondering whether he heard right.

"The family from Agavaland-- or whatever you were just saying." Starsky looked very serious.

"Never mind." Hutch gave up, missing the mischievous smile hovering around Starsky's eyes.

"Ahh, I know these. These are lilies." Starsky stopped at the beautiful Star lilies.

"Stay away from that," Hutch said, taking his eyes off the brightly yellow Irises he was admiring, a few feet away from Starsky.

"Why?" Starsky asked, bending low to smell the white flowers.

Hutch quickly stepped beside Starsky. "Those are toxic," he said, grabbing Starsky's shirt collar from behind and pulling him up.

"Hey," Starsky said adjusting his shirt. "Wasn't planning on eating it,"

"Atchoo," Hutch sneezed.

"You allergic to them?" asked Starsky, frowning. "Greenhouses aren't for you, buddy."

"I'm allergic to many flowering plants, but lilies--" Hutch fished a handkerchief out of his jacket and pressed it to his nose. "Atchoo… lilies are toxic… Atchooo, Starsk, just don't touch them, ok?"

"I wasn't gonna touch 'em. You aren't supposed to touch plants in plant mseums. I know that!"

"Okay, Okay. I was just… Atchoo."

Starsky maneuvered Hutch away from the lilies. "If you are allergic to flowers, how come you live with them in your house?"

"What I have in my apartment are not flowering plants."

"Ah, and I was--" Starsky got distracted by the pink roses swaying in the light wind. "Hey, I've seen these before, too. These are Californian wild roses, aren't they?"

"I'm impressed, Starsky," Hutch said, smugly. "If you tell me the botanical name of it, I'll buy you the biggest ice cream you've ever eaten in your life," Hutch said, believing that Starsky would never know what it was even if it was a very common flower and had a very simple name.

"Piece o' cake, Hutch." Starsky said, wriggling his eye brows. "This is Rosa californica. Family Rosaceae."

Hutch stared at Starsky in disbelief. He even forgot to sneeze. So he played me again. Damn him! I will never ever fall for his act again, never!

That afternoon, Starsky had the treat of his life when they stopped by the Moo's Dairy store. Two scoops of vanilla ice cream and two scoops of chocolate ice cream, covered with caramel and chocolate sauce, topped with peanuts and chocolate chips. Sitting facing each other at a table in the outside sitting area of the dairy place, basking in the evening sunlight, Starsky tucked into his ice-cream, while Hutch enjoyed a chocolate milk. There were many families sitting outside, enjoying the warm day and the delicious desserts.

"How much do you really know about plants, Starsky?" Hutch still couldn't believe the fact that the guy who was asking whether the plant Family Agavaceae were Hebrews knew all about wild roses.

"That was just a piece of luck on my part." Starsky mopped the melted ice cream drips he had made on the table. "Guess that's the only name I know of all plants in the whole world. I had to do this science project when I was in eighth grade with this girl in my class. The project was about Californian wild roses, and I made sure I knew everything about them. She was one beautiful woman."

"Your project mate?"

"What about my project mate?"

"The beautiful woman?"

"You mad or somethin'? She was no woman. She was a thirteen year-old girl with lots of freckles. No, Hutch. Our Science teacher was the beautiful one."

"So you learned everything about the roses to impress your teacher?" Hutch asked, picturing a thirteen year- old, curly- haired little boy with bright blue eyes trying to catch the attention of a grownup woman.

"Of course! And you just had to ask me about this particular rose. My luck, see. Now this I can believe; that ice-cream and I were destined to meet."

Hutch was secretly pleased that he bought Starsky the ice cream of his dreams. "Umm…, Starsk, you still have some ice cream on your chin," he said, tapping his finger on his own chin.

"Huh? Where? Here?" Starsky asked, wiping his palm against his face.

"Nope- you missed it." Hutch leaned forward and wiped the white milk spot that was sitting at the very bottom of Starsky's chin.

"You didn't sleep well last night. Nothing seem to help, huh?" Starsky, as usual, threw a question out of nowhere.

Hutch knew exactly what Starsky was asking about. Thoughts about Leo had kept Hutch awake. He was worried but Starsky. He clasped his hands in front of him on the wooden table and lowered his eyes. "I just couldn't sleep. What you said about Leo played in my mind. I just have a bad feeling about this, Starsk. What do you think he's planning to do? I mean, he waited for six months to contact you. He waited until the trial was done. That just bugs me. Why did he wait that long?"

"He may have wanted to make sure he wasn't mentioned in any wrong doings by Scaris."

"Or he may have wanted to be sure that his father was out of the scene for good."

"That, too." Starsky agreed.

 "What do you think he's planning to do? I mean... with you? What does he want from you?"

"I dunno… Maybe cross the border and live happily ever-after in a nice little house with a white picket fence."

Together with a shaggy little mutt named Shaye, thought Hutch, silently.

***

Starsky, Hutch and Damian met at Maggiano's Italian restaurant that evening. Damian's wife had not been able to join them because one of their kids had come down with stomach flu, and Daisy had stayed behind to nurse him.

"How on earth did you get him to go to a Botanic Garden? He hates the outdoors," Damian asked Hutch during dinner. Hutch sat beside Starsky, and Damian was seated in front of them.

"He was the one who suggested it," Hutch replied, tipping his head towards Starsky.

"Really… Starsky? Is this really you? Where's the Starsky I used to know? What have you done with him?" Damian asked looking back and forth from Starsky to Hutch.

"I don't hate flowers." Starsky shrugged. "But Mr. Greenhouse here is allergic to them," said Starsky, poking his elbow into Hutch's ribs.   

"Hey!" Hutch edged away from Starsky. 

"This is wonderful," Starsky said, looking around happily. "It reminds me of the restaurant my grandmother used to live over when I was a kid."

"Where's that?" Hutch asked. "In Bay City?"

"No. In Brooklyn. That's where I grew up," replied Starsky.

Brooklyn? So that's where his accent comes from, Hutch mused. He realized that he didn't know much about Starsky's life. But, at the same time, Hutch also felt as if he had known Starsky through his whole life. 

"You know, Dobey called me yesterday," Damian announced, suddenly.

Both Starsky and Hutch raised their heads at the same time.

"What did he want with you?" Starsky asked, scowling.

"I think you already know. Something about someone called Seth Scaris or Leo."

"Dammit!" Starsky placed his fork on the plate. "Why the hell did Dobey tell you about him?" Starsky sounded angry, disappointed and disgusted.

"I would like to know why you never said a word about this maniac to me?" Damian shot back.

"There was nothing to tell," Starsky replied angrily.

"Like hell there was nothing to tell. There's a madman running around and--"

"Hey, hey, guys." Hutch intervened. "Keep your voices down."

"Did you know about this?" Damian asked, turning towards Hutch.

"He had to tell me because the guy called my apartment," Hutch said.

"Jesus, Starsky. What are you playing at? This is not a game."

"You don't have to tell me, Damian," Starsky's voice turned cold.

Hutch automatically placed his hand on Starsky's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The gesture was so normal and natural-- like something between two friends that have been together for ages. "Calm down, now, okay? He's your friend. Remember?" Hutch said softly.

Hutch wasn't aware of Starsky's volatile nature. But he felt in his bones that all that Starsky wanted now was to blow off some steam by beating the hell out of someone or something.

Starsky placed his elbows on the table and leaned heavily on them. He turned his head away, looking around the restaurant, trying to get his composure back. "Sorry," he mumbled after sometime, facing the two friends who were eyeing him carefully. 

"I need to know what's going on, Starsky. I'm asking you as a friend," Damian insisted.

After a moment of silence, Starsky began to tell Damian what he had told Hutch the other day.

***

"We need a game plan to get this guy," Damian said firmly, after Starsky's lengthy description of his ordeal with Leo.

Hutch exhaled in relief. Thank God there was someone else on his side now.

"Okay, tell me what we should do," Starsky challenged. "I have one mother, and I don't want two more."

Hutch knew instantly that they weren't getting anywhere. Not with that attitude.

"If someone like Leo was after me or Hutch, what would you do?" Damian asked.

Starsky remained silent.

"Not the same when the tables are turned, huh?" Damian snapped. "I'll tell you what you would've done. You would have gone from house to house, from store to store, to each and every man and woman you found on the street, you would put them through hell if you had to. You would've beaten the stuffing out of them, and wouldn't stop until hell froze over -"

"Do you think I don't know what's at stake? Dammit, Damian. Leo has been watching me since the day I got to LA, and he already hates Hutch because I'm with him. I'm not the one who's in danger here. And you know what's even worse? There's no way out, now, because it'll make no difference even if I stay or leave. Hutch already is a threat to him." Starsky pushed his chair back and stood up. "I need to go to the john," Starsky excused himself for the second time since getting to the restaurant.

"I swear, Hutch, his bladder stopped growing when he was five years old," Damian said, watching Starsky bouncing away from them.

"Not just the bladder, part of his mind as well, don't you think?" Hutch asked. "Do you know he ate four scoops of ice-cream today? Man, I wouldn't even be able to finish even one of those."

"How did he manage that?"

"It was entirely my fault. I lost a bet. Had to get him the largest ice-cream, ever."

"Ahh, Hutch. Never bet with him. No matter how smart you are, he'll out-smart you."

"Yeah. I learned that the hard-way."

"What do you think about this situation? Are we just going to wait until this lunatic does something?"

"I guess so. We just have to keep an eye on Starsky." As soon as the words were out, Hutch realized that Starsky was already alone. "A whole lot of good we're doing by letting him wander around by himself," he said, pushing his chair back. He almost ran towards the restroom, where he collided with Starsky at the door.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You just remembered you had to go potty?" Starsky said rubbing his forehead where Hutch's arm had found its way when they'd crashed into each other.

"Ah... sorry, Starsk."

"You really want to go, or did you come to check on me?"

"Why would I do that? Now could you move, so that I can go in?" Hutch said trying his best to sound calm and normal.

"Be my guest," said Starsky, allowing Hutch inside the restroom.

As Starsky turned back to walk to his table, their server, Jake, came up to him, pushing something into his palm. "He said only for your eyes."

Starsky didn't need his sixth sense to tell him that it was a message from Leo. "Wait," he stopped Jake. "Who gave this to you?"

"The gentleman sitting at the table in the South-West corner," Jake motioned his head towards the table closest to the front entrance of the restaurant, but the area was now vacant.

"He was there a minute ago," Jake said, looking around.

"Can you describe him?"

"He looked... kind of like you."

"Like me?" Leo was not like Starsky at all. Leo was a blond.

"Yeah, dark curly hair, but taller than you. His eyes, well that was different. I've never seen eyes as green as that."

That was Leo alright! So he has disguised himself.

Starsky opened up his palm and found a folded napkin. Written in small neat handwriting was a message.

                                            Meet me outside now, and your friends will live.

                                                                                                                                           L__.

Starsky looked at their table. Damian was busy with his food.  Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Starsky turned around.  

"You forgot your way back?" Hutch had snuck-up behind him after coming out of the bathroom.

Starsky flashed a smile at Hutch. "Your shirt has come out," he said, tucking Hutch's shirt in. His voiced cracked a little bit, feeling guilty he had to hide Leo's note. If he told Hutch about the message, Hutch would never allow Starsky to go out to meet Leo by himself, and having Hutch or Damian tagging along was the last thing he wanted.

"What are you doing? I had it done perfectly." Hutch said, pushing Starsky's hands away from him.

"Now be a good boy, and go and sit at the table. I'll be back in a minute," said Starsky, pretending that he had to go to the bathroom, again.

Hutch huffed. "Don't tell me you want to go back! You just got out!" Hutch said, disbelievingly. "Ahh, it's the ice-cream, isn't it? Knew something like this would happen when you had four big--"

"Hey, ice cream has got nothing to do with this trip. Now go on back to your food. By the way," he called after Hutch. "If you ever go looking for someone, make sure he looks like me," said Starsky, still smiling. He hoped Hutch would remember his hidden message, if something went wrong at the meeting with Leo.

Hutch walked away. "I don't think I'd be able to handle two Starskys in my life time," he mumbled. "Not sure whether I can handle even one," he added, joining Damian at the table.

Starsky slipped outside, making sure Damian and Hutch didn't notice him. Leo may have been bluffing, but Starsky wasn't going to take a chance over the lives of his friends.

Starsky walked out of the restaurant and searched the surroundings. He couldn't make out anyone that looked like Leo on the busy street. He looked to his left and right, and turned to his right. Looking out of the corner of his eyes, he took a couple of steps forward.

"Keep on walking,"

Hearing the familiar voice behind him, Starsky stopped dead in his tracks.

"Don't try anything stupid, Dae. Just keep on walking, and everyone will be okay. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will, if I have to."

Judging the level of the sound, Starsky determined that Leo wasn't very far away, but not so close, either. Starsky kept on walking to the restaurant's parking lot. He was ordered to stop at a black Chevy Caprice.  Not a blue Chevy, Starsky noted.

"Get in," Leo demanded.

Instead of obeying, Starsky turned around to face Leo.

Leo stood about five feet away from him. He wore a dark green shirt and black pants, black jacket thrown over his right arm, with his left hand tucked in pants' pocket.  His hair was dyed in a shade of dark brown, and the previously straight hair was now curled.

"I'm not going anywhere," Starsky said, wondering whether Leo had a gun hidden in the hand under the jacket.

"You have to, if you want your friends to live." Leo moved his right hand slightly, revealing a glistening gun barrel. "It's your choice. You'll decide their fate. Get in the car if you want to save them. If not, as soon as they come out of that restaurant, I'll take them down, one after the other."

Starsky would never put his friends in harm's way. Cursing inwardly, Starsky opened the passenger side door of the Chevy. Just when he was sliding in, Starsky felt the sharp sting of a needle in his neck for the second time in his life.

"T'rrific" Starsky mumbled as everything turned black. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                                         Chapter 7: Kidnapped

"How could we? How could I?" Hutch paced the streets, listlessly looking around. Each and every person who walked the streets was to blame, as much as himself.  

"We have to get in touch with BCPD and captain Dobey. This will have to be discussed with them first," said Damian.

When Starsky didn't show up after his bathroom visit, and when Jake told them about a note he had delivered, Damian and Hutch realized what had gone down. They raced outside, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of Starsky. They had questioned those who were standing around but no one had witnessed anything unusual.

"How could this be? I mean he must have put up a fight, don't you think?" Hutch was furious.

"Unless he went willingly," Damian voiced his thoughts.

Hutch's face turned thunderous. "Are you kidding me? Do you think Starsky would go with some lunatic, willingly? You out of all people should know better than that."

"He would, if he thought we were in danger," Damian replied calmly.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Hutch met Damian's eyes uncomfortably. "Do you think that's what happened?"

"What do you think, Hutch?"

"I don't know." Hutch wrung his hands desperately. "I simply don't know. I-- I caught him near the bathroom and... and… he even tucked my shirt in saying that I had not done it properly."

"He did what?"

"He tucked my shirt in."

"Starsky wouldn't do anything if he didn't have a good reason. Check your pockets."

Hutch turned all his pockets out, but found nothing.

"Check inside your pants; you said he tucked your shirt in--"

"Are you asking me to drop my pants?" Hutch asked while pulling his shirt out. His mouth fell open when a crumpled napkin that was caught between his shirt and pants fell out.

Damian picked up the note and read what was scribbled in. Their worst fears were realized.

"You were right," Hutch hissed, fury welling up inside him. "He went willingly because Leo threatened to harm us."

"Come on. We have to talk to Captain Dobey."

Damian and Hutch drove to Hutch's apartment, which was closer to the restaurant. The phone was ringing when they entered. Hutch picked up the phone, his heart pounding against his ribs. Was it Leo?  Or maybe Starsky?

The caller was Captain Dobey from BCPD.

"I need to speak to Starsky, NOW!" Dobey bellowed, furiously.

Someone or something was howling in the background.

"We were just going to call you, Captain," said Hutch.

"Good! Put him on the phone, Hutchinson. Something has come over his damn dog. She keeps on howling and whining. No one can make her stop. Only Starsky can put an end to this misery- So put him on the phone. Now!" Hutch held the phone away from his ear thinking that he would go deaf.

He waited until Dobey stopped. "Err... Captain… S... Starsky is missing, and we believe he's been kidnapped by Leo." Hutch got to the point directly.

"He WHAT?"

Hutch briefly explained what happened at the restaurant and the message on the napkin. He could still hear Shaye wailing in the back ground. Did she feel that Starsky was in trouble? Is that why she's crying?

"You boys get in touch with Maven right away. I'll be there as soon as possible. It's just a two hour drive."

By the time Hutch and Damian got to their precinct, Captain Maven was already in his office. Dobey had briefed him about the situation. Captain Dobey had also provided Captain Maven with details of Leo's appearance, but Hutch remembered Starsky's last words to him.

"We have to change the description," he said, grabbing a pen. "Just before he left, Starsky said, 'If you ever go looking for someone, look for someone like me.' It didn't make sense at that time, but I guess that was his way of telling me that Leo has disguised himself. Then Jake, our server, described the guy who handed over the napkin as someone who looked just like Starsky. The only difference between them was the eye color."

"Good point, Hutch. We have to include that bit of information about Leo."

They prepared the bulletins, describing the kidnapper and the kidnapped.

By the time Dobey arrived at LAPD, a nationwide missing officer alert was issued, and all borders were informed to prevent Leo from taking Starsky out of the country.

"There was no way I could keep her at home," Dobey said, doing his best to calm down a very agitated, very restless little dog. She wore a pink collar around her neck.

"Is this Shaye?" Hutch asked, remembering how much Starsky loved her.

As soon as Hutch spoke her name Shaye's ears perked, and she turned her head looking right into Hutch's eyes.

"Hey," Hutch said softly.

As if that was the only cue she needed, Shaye wriggled and jumped out of Captain Dobey's hands, and ran towards Hutch. To everyone's amusement, she sat in front of Hutch, holding up her right paw.

"How are you, little fella? I'm Hutch," said Hutch, taking Shaye's paw in his hand. Shaye licked his face in a flash, coating him with a layer of her saliva.

"She's all yours," grumbled Dobey, relieved to have the dog away from him. 

Shaye jumped onto Hutch, and he couldn't do anything but scoop her up. Shaye seemed to settle down in Hutch's arms, and it was crystal clear that she had chosen Hutch as her keeper for the moment.

"She has never gone to a stranger like that," said Dobey, half amused.

"Can I keep her with me? Until we find Starsky?" Hutch asked, hopefully. For some reason he felt comforted in the presence of the little dog. She is Starsky's one and only, after all, and having her with him made Hutch feel as if Starsky was close by.

"Sure, but you better take very good care of her. If not, you'll have to answer for Starsky. Shaye's his life!"

Hutch nodded in agreement.

"What's next?" Damian asked.

"We find them," Hutch said with grim determination. He remembered the blue Chevy at the museum. "Starsky noticed a blue Chevy that seemed to follow us one day. License plate was AJB 945. We got to check that with the DMV."

"That's a good starting point- So… will Damian and you be in charge of this case, then?" Captain Dobey looked at Captain Maven, Hutch and Damian.

"Ryan will be in it, too. He's my partner," Damian said.

As there was nothing else they could do for the moment, each of them took their leave. Captain Dobey had made a reservation at the Holiday Inn. He planned to stay for a while.

***

Hutch entered his empty apartment with a heavy heart. The outrage and guilt of allowing Starsky to get kidnapped in his presence turned into despair and helplessness that tormented him.

Shaye had been very quiet through the ride to Hutch's home, but she kept on licking Hutch every now and then.

"You got to quit doing that, Shaye. I even smell like you, now," Hutch said, preventing Shaye from reaching his face. As soon as he put her on the floor, Shaye ran towards the couch and started sniffing it excitedly. She barked happily, running towards the laundry hamper, and smelling through the clothes. She jumped onto Hutch's bed and barked.

"You smell him, don't you?" Hutch asked. "Are you mad at me?"

Shaye yelped, and ran back to the heap of clothes. Dragging one of Starsky's t-shirts in her mouth, Shaye jumped onto the couch. She settled in where Starsky had slept the first day he was at Hutch's apartment.

"You're right." Hutch sighed. "He slept there, too, and those are his clothes. We didn't get a chance to finish that laundry load. You want to sleep with his tee?" Hutch asked, sitting beside the little dog.

Shaye twitched her ears and listened to Hutch, staring intensely.

"I guess Starsky was right. You seem to understand everything I say."

Shaye whined a little bit, and put her paw on Hutch's thigh.

"You know, Shaye, I'm the 'he' he was talking to you about the other day. Uh huh! He decided to stay with me for a couple of days-- He's a very special man, but I guess you already know that, huh?"

Shaye whined again.

"You miss him, don't you?" Hutch sighed, heavily. "I have known him for just four days, and I miss him like I have never missed anyone before. What are we supposed to do now, Shaye? How am I going to find him?"

Hutch leaned against the couch and closed his eyes. He couldn't let the fear get to him; the fear of losing Starsky. He hoped Starsky was correct about Leo on one thing; that Leo wouldn't hurt Starsky. He wanted Starsky back. He wanted to see that bouncing bundle of happiness who flashed that thousand-watt smile, which brightened up his whole world. Hutch wanted his friend!

When Hutch opened his eyes, Shaye was still staring at him. "Are you hungry? You'll have to do with whatever I eat until I get some of your own tomorrow. Is that okay?"

Shaye woofed, and stood up.

"I guess that means, yes."

Hutch found some shortbread cookies in the kitchen. Starsky bought them for sure. Hutch wasn't a fan of sweet stuff. He offered some to Shaye, but she refused.

"Well... you said 'okay,' - so now what?" Hutch asked, annoyed. "I know you miss him, and I know you smell him in my apartment. And I'm very sure you're wondering what the hell your Starsky was doing with this… this ugly me."

Shaye made some kind of a grumbling noise, and went back to the couch.

 "Okay then, sleep, but please don't howl. I don't know where Starsky is, and I can't bring him home, yet."

Hutch went to his bedroom, leaving Shaye on the couch. His eyes became misty at the sight of the heated mattress pad Starsky had bought him. Who would have ever thought of something like this? He knelt at his bed and prayed--something he had not done since… well-- he couldn't even remember when he last prayed.

Shaye tiptoed up to Hutch's bedroom door and watched Hutch for a while. She knew that something was not right. She had not heard Starsky's voice on the phone that day, and now she was in a place where she could smell Starsky. The big bed smelled both of Starsky and this other guy, but where was Starsky? Something was terribly wrong! She could feel it in her little doggy bones. She was determined to stick to this tall guy until he brought her Starsky, home.

***

By next morning, the whole city, the whole State, the whole country was aware that Detective David Starsky from BCPD was kidnapped by Seth Scaris, Ron Scaris's son. The photos of Starsky and Leo were shown on all TV news channels. Newspapers carried lengthy articles about Starsky's heroic deeds. The reports speculated that Leo sought revenge against Starsky for capturing his father.

Only a handful of police personnel knew of the real motive behind Starsky's kidnapping.

Hutch and Damian, together with Damian's partner Ryan, started the day by tracking down Leo's blue Chevy. It was registered to a rental car company, Jiffy. On Monday, the blue Chevy was rented by a man named Robert Rivers, who had returned the Chevy and then rented a black Caprice on Tuesday morning, the day Starsky was kidnapped, and returned it late that night. The rental company had a photocopy of his driver's license. The photo was of the 'brunet' version of Leo.

"So he has a fake ID." Damian placed the photocopy of Leo's driver's license in a separate plastic bag.

"I'm sure he has more IDs made, and I know how to find the others. If there's anyone who can produce fake IDs in this town, I know how to find him, or at least I know who can find him for me. But before that we need to take a look at the Caprice Leo rented yesterday. We might find something."

They were escorted to a large black Chevy caprice in the parking lot of rental cars. They checked each and every corner of the car, but came up empty.

"What next?" asked Ryan.

"We find the guy who made the ID for him."

Hutch drove across LA until he came to a small Chinese restaurant in China town.

"Detective Hutchinson. Nǐ hǎo ma? I thought you have forgotten us," A Chinese man, somewhere in his forties greeted them, smiling widely at Hutch.

"Wǒ hěn hǎo, Nǐ ne, Yong Li? I know I haven't being around, lately," Hutch apologized, graciously. He had first met Yong-Li after saving Yong's twelve year old son, Jin, from being beaten up by a bunch of bullies. "Jin zài nǎ?"

"He's at school, Detective Hutchinson, but you are not here to talk about Jin, are you?"

Hutch shook his head.

Leaving Damian and Ryan in the sitting area of the restaurant, Hutch followed Yong-Li to the kitchen.

**

"Did Hutch just speak Chinese?" Ryan asked, 

"Wasn't English for sure," Damian said, looking around the small, but neat, place. There were paper placements with Chinese zodiac signs on tables. He had never been here before, and wondered how Hutch knew the place and the owner.

"You're a Goat," said Ryan, watching Damian studying the Chinese zodiac signs.

Damian looked up smiling at Ryan. "Nope! Monkey. Says right here." He pointed at the paper mats. "I'm disappointed, partner. I thought you knew my birthday," said Damian triumphantly.

"I know more than just your birthday," Ryan said smugly. "Both of us were born in 1944, but you were born in January. The Chinese New Year doesn't begin on January first. The date changes each year, but most of the time it's towards the end of January. So, people born during the month of January are included as a part of the previous year – So you, partner, have to look at 1943, and you're a Goat, though I'm a Monkey."

"How come you know all about Chinese Signs?" Damian asked.

"How come you don't?"

Before Damian could answer that, Hutch came back with a paper in his hand. Yong Li had provided them with the name of the town's fake ID producing venue.

**

"Don's Electrics? You sure this is the place?" Damian asked, looking up at a rusty, old, dented sign that was mounted on a high brick wall.

"Only one way to find out." Hutch was already out of the car.

Damian and Ryan followed Hutch into the small building, and to an area which looked like some kind of a workshop. A variety of items, small alarm clocks, radios, cassette players, VCRs, telephones, fans, and TV sets, were packed on wall-mounted shelves. A large worktable stood in the middle of the room. Standing behind the wooden work-bench was a tall, skinny, Caucasian man in his mid-fifties. He wore thick, oversized glasses on his nose, and was concentrating heavily on disassembling a radio.

As Hutch, Damian, and Ryan entered the electronic repair place, Don looked up from his work, frowning with displeasure for being interrupted. He took off his glasses, studying the three men. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

Hutch, Ryan and Damian flashed their badges.

Don didn't seem to care. "What can I do for you, officers?"

"How's the fixing coming along?" asked Hutch, leaning against Don's work table.

"Since when's that a crime?" 

"Did I say it's a crime?" Hutch asked, mockingly.

Ryan paced the room, picking up items out of the shelves and examining them.

Damian walked around the table and stood right beside Don. "Got any TVs lately, Don?"

"What's this all about? There aren't any stolen goods here, officers."

Hutch meddled with the electronic parts that were lying on Don's table. "Didn't say there was any stolen goods either, Don."

"Okay, then. What can I fix for you?"

"Do you think you could fix up some IDs for us?" Hutch asked, a sly smile dancing around his lips.

Don eyed the three detectives intently, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I think you have come to the wrong place."

Damian let out a deep sigh. "Okay, let's try this again, Don. We need three IDs with some fancy names on them. Do you think you can do that for us?"

"Hey," Ryan called out, waving a calculator he retrieved from one of the shelves. "I can even think of some kick-ass names for us."

"Look around, detectives. This ain't no printing venue," Don said.

Hutch pursed his lips. His patience was running out.

"We have no time for games, Don. We can come back with a warrant to search these premises. Do you really want us find all the other extra things you've been repairing in here?"

"Now wait a minute," Don said, hurriedly. "I-I may have some information, but I'm not the one who makes them. I'm just the delivery person."

"Ah, I'm sure you are, Don. So can you tell us how many IDs you delivered for him?" Hutch placed the photocopy of Leo's driver's license in front of Don.

Don put his glasses back and studied the photo for a minute. A hint of a frown touched his mouth. "There were three, all together. I remember him. It's been a while, but those eyes--"

"Green- we know." Hutch didn't want any time wasted. He needed the information, and he needed it now! "How long ago was this done for him?" Hutch asked, wondering whether Leo moved to LA right after his father was captured.

"He picked his stuff up about three months ago."

"Names?"

Don shook his head. "I don't remember."

"Listen, you scumbag," Hutch hissed. He reached across the table in a flash and grabbed Don by his shirt, dragging him halfway onto the table.

"Hey, wait, wait. I haven't done anything wrong," Don said, trying his best to save the radio and its parts from falling onto the floor.

Hutch was too angry to pay attention to Don's pleas. "You've assisted a criminal in kidnapping a police officer, and you know the charges that can be sprung on you, don't you? Names or the slammer. Your choice," he said between his clenched teeth.

Don was clearly alarmed. "What criminal? What kidnapping?" He asked his eyes wide with fear. "I don't know nothing. I don't know nothing about no kidnapping."

"Names, now!" Hutch tightened his hold on Don.

Out came the names Don couldn't remember a minute ago. 

Robert Rivers

Toby Jenkins

Julian Stobart

Leaving Ryan and Damian in charge of finding the people, places, and events Leo and his aliases were associated with, Hutch went back to the streets to meet Mitch, a friend who owned a pub in downtown and was always a reliable source of information.

"This's the dude they've been showing all day today, isn't he? The guy who got that detective?" Mitch asked, taking a look at the photograph Hutch placed beside him.

"That's what we believe. Have you seen him or heard anything of him? Anything?"  Hutch asked, hopefully. "You can't miss his green eyes, I've been told."

"Did this Starsky guy allow himself to be captured purposely like he did with that Scaris guy?"

"I can't talk about the details, Mitch. Just the fact that Starsky is held captive by Leo, and we have to find him, fast."

Mitch shook his head. "Haven't seen any green eyes in this joint. Give me some time. I'll ask around and get in touch with you if something comes up."

"Mitch, this is important. Very important."

Mitch stared at Hutch for a while. "You know him well? This Starsky guy?"

"Yes."

"I'll do my best," Mitch promised.

***

Shaye listened to the footsteps on the stairs. She heard only one set of feet. Ahh... the tall Mr. Softie! No wonder Starsky liked him. I think he's sad because Starsky's not around. Huh! Imagine how I feel without my Starsky, but am I crying? I mean... well... I did, but this guy's taking it too much into his head. Doesn't he know that Starsky is alive? I know he's alive, though I know he's in trouble. We have to get him away from the place where he is right now, but he's alive.

Shaye watched the front door open, sitting at the couch, where she had spent the whole morning.

"There you are," said Hutch, closing the door behind him. "I got something for you." He lifted a big bag of Dog Chow. He also bought a couple of bowls for Shaye. "Come on, girl. You need to eat something, and then we'll go out."

Shaye got down off the couch and followed Hutch to the kitchen.

"I know you want him, Shaye. I'm trying my best. We have some information. We know what Leo calls himself in this town, now that's a start, don't you think?"

Shaye was a good listener, and she knew Hutch needed someone to listen.

Hutch poured the dog food into a bowl and placed it on the floor together with a bowl of water.

Shaye eyed the food and sat in front of her plate. She wasn't going to eat anything. Not yet.

"Shaye, please," Hutch said, desperately. "You've got to eat something." Hutch pushed the plate towards her, but Shaye wasn't interested. Instead she just stared at Hutch.

"What do you want me to do, huh?"

Shaye barked. You have to eat, too.

"What? I don't speak dog." Hutch snapped. "I'm sure Starsky does, but I don't."

Shaye barked again, and pressed her nose on the plate, pushing it towards Hutch.

"What now? You want me to eat that stuff?" Hutch gasped. "Don't tell me that that's what Starsky does."

Shaye was still staring at him. Hutch sighed. "I can see how you've got Starsky wrapped around your little paw. You are one hell of a pusher, aren't you? But I'm not going to eat your stuff. I'm not a dog."

 Shaye barked again. The tall guy is hopeless.

"You are going to make me do it, aren't you?" Hutch picked up one of the kibbles from Shaye's plate, hesitated for a moment while eyeing the brown-colored ball on his palm.

"You owe me big time, Starsky" he muttered, and put the food in his mouth. "There! Are you happy now?"

Shaye started to bark, non-stop. She was angry. What was this guy doing eating my food like that? How dare he think he can eat my food? Can't he understand a word I'm saying?

"Why? What? Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" Hutch was very confused. "I told you, I don't talk or understand dog. Now stop. Oh, Jeez, Shaye. Stop. Okay, here." He spat the brown ball out onto his palm.

Shaye stopped barking instantly.

Hutch threw the soggy ball into the trash can, and rinsed his mouth. "I'm glad that I'm not a dog!"   

Hutch stood glaring at Shaye. "Not a word of this to anyone. You hear me?" He said, pointing his finger threateningly towards Shaye.

Shaye dropped her ears and backed off. She walked away from Hutch back to the couch.

Hutch obviously felt guilty for yelling at Shaye. "Hey, I didn't mean to scare you. Come here, please, eat something, Shaye," he spoke gently, but Shaye withdrew completely as she jumped back on the couch.

Hutch went and sat beside her. "Jeez, Shaye. I don't know how Starsky handled you and work, both. You are one high-maintenance lady," he said, but Shaye wasn't listening.

Hutch stroked her head, and tickled behind her ears as she seemed to like before, but now she didn't even respond to that.

"Women!" Hutch muttered walking back to the kitchen.

***

He had not eaten anything that day except the coffee he had in the morning. He wasn't hungry, but he had to keep his strength. He wouldn't be any good to Starsky if he got sick. Hutch checked the fridge for its contents and made a sandwich for himself.

Shaye watched him all the time.

As soon as Hutch started eating his sandwich, Shaye walked to her plate, and started eating her food.

Hutch's eyes widened in surprise. "Aw, Shaye. You wanted me to eat, alright. You wanted to eat my own food, didn't you? Ah, girl. Now I see why Starsky loves you so much." He watched the little dog eat her whole plate of food and drink her water obediently.

Then for the first time, Shaye wagged her tail a little bit, looking at Hutch.

Hutch picked up the little dog and held her close to his heart dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He rested his chin on the light brown patch on Shaye's head. "You're just like Starsky. He didn't give up until I started to eat. He… he even slept with me. He knew exactly what I wanted. I didn't have to say anything, but he just… just knew exactly what to say, and what to do. He didn't even know who I really am, Shaye. God, I miss him. I miss him so damn much it hurts like hell. I feel like a dying man, not being able to find him, not been able to know that he's alive and okay."

Shaye looked up and licked Hutch's face. Shaye gave a couple of yelps. Hutch looked at the pair of brown eyes earnestly gazing back at him. He put Shaye down, and she ran towards the door barking excitedly.

"You want to walk, Shaye? I know you've been stuck in here all day. We'll first go to the station, and see what the guys have got. Then later I'll take you for a walk."

Hutch picked up the leash, which he also bought at Petco. "Like it or not, I'll have to put you on a leash, Shaye. Can't have you running all over the streets."

Coming out of the apartment, Hutch took Shaye for a small run around the block to allow her to finish her business. The walk and the run did both of them some good. When Hutch opened his car door, instead of getting in to the car, Shaye pulled Hutch towards the Torino, which was parked in front of Hutch's car.

"Hey, we aren't taking the Torino. That's Starsky's car." Hutch pulled her back. "I see that you have the same taste as Starsky when it comes to cars, but we are not going to ride that… that… wild red thing. Like it or not, Shaye, you're going in this." Hutch picked up the bewildered dog and pushed her into his car.

Shaye whined miserably.

"You can bark your head off, but you'll do as I say." Hutch said, sternly. "When you are with Hutch- you'll have to do as Hutch says. Got it?" Ignoring all the protests coming from the passenger seat, Hutch started towards the Station. After sometime Shaye settled down, accepting defeat. "I'm sure you think this is a heap of junk." Hutch smiled at Shaye's forlorn look. Was she really pouting?

When he arrived at the squad room, Dobey was with the rest of the search group. Shaye, pleased to see him, gave a friendly nudge with her nose.

"Did she give you any trouble?" Captain Dobey asked Hutch, patting Shaye on her head.

"Ah, no. No trouble at all." Not to mention how she made me eat dog food... yuk! "So what have we got so far?"

Damian and Ryan had done well that morning. Robert Rivers worked at the Green Mart grocery store. He had a bank account with the LA Credit Union, but all the money had been withdrawn the day before Starsky was kidnapped. He also rented an apartment downtown.

Julian Stobart and Toby Jenkins had not surfaced in any search so far.

"So… what do we do now? Get a search warrant for Roberts' apartment?"

"Yes- Not that I expect to find anything that'll help find Starsky."

"Why not?" asked Ryan.

"Because Robert Rivers is the model citizen who leads a normal decent life. We won't find anything there. He won't take Starsky to that house.

"Right," Ryan agreed. "He'll be in a place associated with either Julian Stobart or Toby Jenkins."

"Yes, but we'll check his place and then go question the staff at Green Mart."

***

 Once they got the search warrant, they raided Robert Rivers' apartment. They found his work schedule, work uniforms, newspapers, and clothes. It was just the apartment of a normal working person. Just like Hutch predicted, there was nothing to implicate Leo in anything. 

Their next stop was the Green Mart. All the employees had good things to say about Robert, who had joined the store as a sales clerk four months ago. He was pleasant, funny, easy- going and everybody liked him. The Robert Rivers they knew had curly brown hair. He had last been seen at work on Monday.

One of the employees, Kevin, who was close to Robert Rivers at work, told them that he acted kind of funny during the past couple of days. "He isn't a talkative person in general, but during the last few days he was unusually quiet… and nervous. It was as if his mind wasn't at work," said Kevin.

"Is there anything else you've noticed in him? Anything?"

"Well…" Kevin thought for a little while. "I don't know what this means, but he had this chain around his neck and there was a heart shaped silver locket attached to it. I have seen him holding it in his palm… like this." He made a fist and placed it on his chest.

"Did he say what was in it?"

"I asked him one day, but instead of telling me what was in it, he wanted me to guess what he would be carrying close to his heart. So I said... maybe a picture of his girlfriend. He smiled and said something like that."

"Thanks, Kevin. If you remember anything else, please call this number," Hutch said, giving Kevin his card.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Continue to Chapter 8...