Wednesday Morning
“You done?”
“What?” Hutch looked up, surprised to see Starsky standing at the other side of the table. “I’m – I’m just getting started. I can move if you want.”
“No.” Starsky pulled his chair out and sat down. “Didn’t ask you to move.”
“I can hurry.”
“Didn’t ask you to hurry.” Getting a clean report sheet and a pen, he started writing.
Hutch went back to writing his own report, glancing at Starsky from time to time. He hadn’t seen his partner since they’d left the Golden Lady the night before.
After they’d given a quick report to the uniforms and made sure the paramedics were aware that Joey was extremely dangerous, they had turned to each other.
“You okay?” Starsky had looked him over.
“Yeah.” He had done his own once over of Starsky, looking for bruises or cuts. “You?”
“Yeah.” Starsky had looked away. “You doin’ your report in the morning?”
“Uh…” He’d realized Starsky wanted to know so that he could avoid him. “Yeah… I'll uh… I’ll be there about nine.”
“Fine.”
A shorthand conversation even by their standards. Starsky had gotten into his car and driven away. Quietly. No revving of the engine. No squealing of tires. Hutch had watched the car move slowly away and wondered if he’d ever see his best friend again. If he even had a best friend anymore.
That Starsky had purposely shown up when he knew that Hutch was going to be here gave Hutch a spark of hope.
“The lab called about eleven – right?”
“What? Uh… yeah.” Hutch blinked, realizing he’d been staring at Starsky – not that his partner had looked up to notice. “I think it was about a quarter after.”
“’Kay.”
Going back to his own report, Hutch began looking for things he could question Starsky about. It wouldn’t exactly be a conversation – but they would at least be talking to each other. He had to start somewhere.
“Uh, that was a standard Army issue grenade?” He asked softly.
“Looked like.” Starsky shrugged. “Felt like it. I didn’t get a chance to look that close.”
“No.” Hutch laughed nervously. “Had to get rid of it. Good throw.”
Starsky didn’t answer, and Hutch went back to his report. They continued to work on their respective reports of the previous night’s events, speaking occasionally. In short sentences and only when necessary. Hutch tried to add as many things to the necessary list as he could.
The other detectives in the squad room left them alone, aware that something was going on, but unsure of what.
Finishing his report, Hutch cleared his throat. “Do – do you want to double check it – make sure nothing was missed?”
Starsky set his pen down. “Sure.” He slid his report across the desk toward Hutch.
“I – “ He didn’t want Starsky to think he was second guessing him. “I meant mine.”
“I know.”
“Ah, okay.” Hutch slid his own report across the desk. “Here.”
Starsky’s report was concise and to the point for once. No purple prose, no pulp fiction excitement. Just the facts, ma’am. Hutch laid the paper down and waited until Starsky finished reading his over.
When it was laid on the table, Hutch cleared his throat again. “Starsky, I need to talk to you.” Starsky looked up for the first time, and Hutch could see the hurt in the sapphire eyes.
“Okay.” He’d thought it wasn’t possible to hurt anymore than he already did, to feel any emptier, but meeting Hutch’s eyes proved him wrong. “Whatever.”
“I didn’t sleep with her – not then anyway.” Maybe not the best place to start, but it was the heart of the matter.
Starsky didn’t answer, just stared at him as if he were too tired to talk.
“I didn’t – I know what it looked like – “ Hutch began again. “But I didn’t – “
The phone at the end of the desk rang. Starsky looked at it for a moment. It rang again, and he shrugged. “Hold that thought.”
Slumping back in his chair, Hutch tried to think of a better way to say he was sorry and to explain what had happened to them – what had been done to them.
“Starsky.” His partner said as he picked the phone up. His face sobered. “What do you want?”
It was tempting to pick up the other phone and listen in, but judging from Starsky’s tone of voice, Hutch knew exactly who had to be on the other end. Kira.
“Really?” Starsky looked at Hutch and laughed. “Everybody wants to talk today.”
Kira must have said something because Starsky cocked his head to one side slightly and he frowned. “Why? What can you have to say to me that I want to hear? Oh? Well, I can’t wait to hear this. When?”
Hutch looked up. Surely Starsky wasn’t going to meet with Kira.
“Hutch is right here, actually. Why would he be somewhere else?” Starsky held up a hand for Hutch to be quiet. “Fine – no – Huggy’s.” He hung up without saying goodbye.
Starsky got up, walked around to the end of the table, and slid one hip onto the edge. “That was Kira. She wants to talk.”
“You’re not really going to go meet her? Starsk – “
“No.”
“No?” Hutch laughed. “She deserves to be stood up.”
“We are.”
“We are? We are what?”
“Huggy’s. Five o’clock.” Starsky slid off the table and walked away.
“We are?” Hutch swiveled around to stare at him.
Starsky stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Well?”
“Well?” He frowned. Then Starsky pulled the door open and waved his hand through the doorway. “Oh.”
Tossing both reports into the out basket, Hutch got up and followed Starsky out into the hallway.
They walked in silence to the elevator, Starsky punching the button. When the doors slid open, he stepped inside and leaned against one side. Hutch followed him and leaned against the other side as Starsky hit the button for the garage level.
The doors slid shut and the elevator began to move. Hutch was trying to piece together what he wanted to say when Starsky spoke first.
“The black turtleneck.”
“Yeah?”
“And the black leather jacket.”
“Yeah?” They both had black leather jackets and turtlenecks. Was Starsky asking for fashion tips?
Starsky punched the emergency stop button. Hutch grabbed at the rail as the elevator lurched to a stop.
“The way I figure it – “ Starsky turned to look at him. “I got almost ten years invested in you.”
“About that.” He nodded.
“I only got – “ A thoughtful look crossed his face. “A week?”
“Maybe a little more?” Hutch wondered if this was how Van had felt when he’d caught her cheating on him.
“It seemed like longer…” Starsky chewed his lip. “Hmm… anyway – a week invested in her.”
“No comparison?” Hutch asked hopefully.
“No.” As bad as it hurt, the thought of losing his friendship with Hutch hurt far worse. That was the real pain in this mess.
“What do you want to do?”
Starsky walked across the distance separating him and Hutch. “She likes to play games? Let’s play one.”
A smile curved Hutch’s lips.
Wednesday Evening
Possibly the only thing better than the look on Kira’s face as she realized she’d been dumped – which Hutch could see reflected in the mirrored Coors sign – was the fact that they’d just stuck her with the tab for two beers and a daiquiri.
That and the feeling of connection with Starsky once again. They’d planned out exactly what they were going to say to Kira, and she’d followed along just as neatly as they had for her little game. They’d had a backup plan ready just in case, but she hadn’t even seriously considered being with both of them. That wasn't her thing.
As they stepped outside, Starsky’s arm fell away. Hutch’s steps faltered, and he stopped. Starsky continued on to where he’d parked the Torino. They hadn’t talked about what had happened or what they were going to do once this was over.
If he moved, took a single step, he might break into pieces. Hutch watched as Starsky unlocked the car and got in. The engine roared to life and the headlights came on, lighting up the early dusk.
The Torino idled for a moment, and Hutch wondered if Starsky were feeling the same way that he was. Was he sitting there remembering their friendship, or was he saying good riddance?
Finally the car began to move, swinging past him, and Hutch felt the pieces begin to break off and fall at his feet. That was it, it was all over. The best friend he’d ever had was leaving him behind. And Hutch couldn’t blame him.
The Torino stopped a few feet ahead of him, and Hutch had a flicker of hope light up inside. Was Starsky having second thoughts? He wanted to walk up and lean in the passenger window and ask if there was any chance of patching their friendship up, but he couldn’t move.
Starsky watched Hutch in the rearview mirror. He was just standing there like he’d grown roots. Leaning over, he opened the passenger door. Hutch still didn’t move, just stared like he wanted something but didn’t know how to get it.
The backup lights came on, blinding Hutch, and he watched the car back up, riding up over the curb and onto the sidewalk until the open door was in front of him. Was Starsky going to run him over? Should he bother to run? The Torino eased to a stop with the door barely a foot from him. His body responded automatically, and Hutch slid in and shut the door.
Without a word, Starsky pulled back out onto the street, ignoring the thump as the Torino dropped off the curb. He could see that Hutch was hurting and probably trying to figure out the best way to nail himself to the cross. In the past, he’d watched Hutch hit the self destruct button on several relationships – he’d just never figured their friendship would be one of them.
They rode in silence, neither wanting to break the fragile peace. Hutch kept carefully to his side, not resting his arm up on the back of the seat as he normally did. Instead he kept his hands on his legs and focused on the traffic ahead of them.
Starsky pulled up to a large grocery store he liked to shop at and shut the car off. When he got out and walked inside, Hutch followed. He turned and headed for the beer while Starsky walked back toward the deli.
When they met back at the checkout, Hutch set the two six packs of beer on the belt and Starsky added two of the large pizzas the store made in their deli. The checker commented that they had less beer than usual, but neither one of them answered him.
Hutch paid, and they left the store, once again riding in silence. He recognized the businesses and houses they passed and realized they were heading toward Starsky’s place. Not that Starsky couldn’t stop somewhere, beat the hell out of him, and then go home and enjoy the beer and pizza.
They bypassed the likely spots for kicking the crap out of him and Starsky pulled up in his own driveway. Getting out, he grabbed the pizzas and walked up the stairs to the front door. Hutch followed, carrying the beer in. He set two bottles on the table and put the rest in the refrigerator.
Putting the pizzas in the oven, Starsky set the temperature and closed the door. Hutch handed him a beer, and he took a swig of it before walking into the living room and sitting on the sofa.
The silence had built until his ears were ringing, but Hutch wasn’t sure how to break it. Say he was sorry for sticking a knife in Starsky’s back? Tell him how hurting him was something that he’d never intended to do? Slumping onto the other end of the sofa, Hutch settled for taking a drink of his beer.
“My mom had a best friend in third grade.” Starsky said suddenly. “Her best friend from before they even started school.”
Not sure how to respond, Hutch nodded and took another drink.
“They got into a fight over this doll – one of ‘em broke it or something – and then they weren’t friends anymore. Then the other girl moved away and Mom never saw her again.”
Starsky took a drink of his beer before continuing. “My mom always regretted not being big enough to say ‘I’m sorry’. She couldn’t even remember who started it – just that neither of them would give in.”
“She’d say, ‘Davey, don’t lose a friend ‘cos you’re too good to say you’re sorry.’” He rolled his beer bottle between his hands. “So, I’m sorry, Hutch.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Starsk.” How typical. Starsky was always the one doing the repair work on their friendship, even when he was the injured party.
“I know.” He shot Hutch a grin. “Well, I do, too, though. I shouldn’t have kept it all a big secret. If we’d compared notes – “
“Yeah, only she made sure we didn’t.” He laughed, but was bitter. “You’d think we’d learn that keeping secrets from each other – especially with women – never works out.”
“At least there were no drugs involved.”
Hutch couldn’t help the smile. It wasn’t a joking matter, but somehow it lightened the mood. “We were suckered, Starsk. Played like pieces in a game.”
“More like little boys.”
“Fighting over the same toy.” The smile faded. “She set us up.”
“How did she know?” Starsky turned sideways on the couch and rested an arm along the back. “How did she know what to say – what I felt?”
“We’re not closed books, buddy. Well, you aren’t. It’s there, Starsk, everything you want. Love, tenderness, gentleness – it’s all right there. Now me – “ Hutch tapped his beer bottle to his chest. “I’m closed. Cold and bitter – and I don’t want to feel anything.”
“She told me how lonely she was – how she wanted a family.”
“She told me she’d been married once and never wanted to do it again.”
They looked at each other across the length of the couch.
Hutch held up his beer bottle. “Step right up, ladies and germs, and see the biggest suckers in Bay City.”
Starsky raised his bottle and returned the salute.
“I didn’t go to bed with Kira.”
“Hutch, it’s okay, you don’t hafta – “
“No, I have to say this.” He turned sideways on the couch so that he could look Starsky in the eye. “I did before – but not this time. Almost – but – she gave me this crap about how she loved both of us and hadn’t I ever been with two women at the same time. But then she said something – something that was exactly what I wanted to hear, and that’s when it hit me. I had to wonder what she’d said to you.”
“Everything I wanted to hear.” Starsky shook his head.
“Exactly.” Hutch took a deep breath; he was lousy at saying he was sorry. "Starsky, I'm sorry – for every crappy thing I've ever done."
“S'okay. I just gotta know one thing.” He looked down and then looked back up to stare intently into Hutch’s eyes. “I wondered how you couldn’t see – why you didn’t back off.”
“Like I always do when you really like a girl? Or the way you do when I really like a girl?” Hutch already knew the answer – he was still trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say without hurting Starsky’s feelings any more than he already had.
“Yeah.” Starsky nodded. “We never put moves on each other’s girls.”
“I’ve seen you when you like a girl – when you care – when you’re in love. And that wasn’t there.” He hesitated a moment, not wanting to tear open old wounds. “When you fell in love with Terry – I knew before you told me. It was there. You both had that look – and I just wanted to wrap the both of you my arms and be a part of that.”
“Yeah, well… you were. Terry made sure of that. She loved you, too.” The smile was tinged with sadness. “What the hell's happening to us, Hutch?”
“I don’t know. Too many all nighters and lost causes? Too many people we couldn’t save?”
“You know, Hutch, more and more I feel like one of those little hamsters in a wheel.” He made a circular motion with his hand. “Going around and around and getting nowhere fast. And too stupid to know it.”
Hutch laughed, nearly spitting a mouthful of beer onto his lap. Starsky looked hurt, and he hurried to explain. “I feel like a rat in a maze. I go running around looking for the cheese. Only there never is any cheese. They moved it, or it’s just gone.”
“Hell, maybe it was never there.” Starsky had to laugh too, now that he saw how their thoughts had been along the same path.
“Yeah, but until now, there’s been one good thing.” Hutch waited until Starsky looked back up at him and held his hand out to him. “I wasn’t the only rat in the maze.”
Reaching out, Starsky took his hand and squeezed it hard. “Maybe it’s time we got outta the maze.”
“Maybe.”
Letting go of Hutch’s hand, Starsky took another drink of his beer. They sat in silence again, only it was a comfortable silence this time.
Starsky looked at his watch after awhile and got up. Walking into the kitchen, he opened the oven and checked the pizzas. “It’s done.”
“Great, dried meat bits and preservatives for dinner.” Hutch got up and walked into the kitchen. Opening the cabinet, he took out two plates.
“Get paper plates, unless you want to wash dishes.”
“Stop being so lazy.” He put the plates back and found the package of paper plates.
“I got some veggie concoction for your delicate tummy.” Starsky put two slices onto one of the paper plates Hutch set on the table and slid it towards him. He lifted two slices from the other pizza and put them onto the other plate. “The good stuff is for me.”
Sprinkling Parmesan cheese over the slices, Hutch handed the bottle of red pepper flakes to his partner. He shook his head at the sausage and pepperoni on Starsky’s pizza. “I am not running out to get you an antacid.”
“S’okay, got some from last time.”
Hutch sat down and took a bite of his pizza. “Not too bad. Easy on the preservatives.”
“Here.” Starsky handed him a paper towel. “Where’s your manners?”
“Left them in my good suit.” He laid the paper towel on the table and got up to get them a fresh beer. He patted Starsky’s shoulder as he walked past. Starsky reached up and took his hand, holding it until he got too far away and their grip broke.
“So, it’s back to just you and me fighting off the other rats for the cheese?” Starsky took the beer Hutch handed him and twisted the top off.
“Same as always.”
“Think Dobey will still give us that week off?”
“I’m sure he will.” Hutch took another bite of pizza. “Why not?”
“You still going to Minnesota?”
“Thought I’d stick closer to home. You?”
“I don’t know anybody in Minnesota.” Starsky grinned at him.
3rd place Missing Scene/Epilogue
*I'd like to thank Ralkana, Chief Minion and new Starsky & Hutch fan, for giving me the idea for this story. This is her birthday present and she helped me work out all the quirks, kinks, and twists in the timeline. And a thanks to Kimberlyfdr for saying in a chat "Hutch dances like a chicken committing suicide" and then saying that it was okay for me to use it. Bet she thought I never would!