STARSKY & HUTCH

By: Startisparticus2017

Characters: Dave Starsky, Ken Hutchinson, Captain Dobey, Huggy Bear, Nick Starsky, Sloan, Sohar, Zancko, Durniack, Mrs. Starsky aka Ma, Simmons and Babcock, Lion

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or make profit from these stories. January 2017, March 2018, revised June 2020. Updated July 14, 2020

Beta Read: MaryEllen , Sandy & Caroline (Thank you!)

Bad Seed

Chapter 1

Starsky stood in the middle of a warehouse parking lot, surrounded by wooden pallets, and metal barrels. He wore a flashy gold necklace and expensive blue satin shirt, and black fitted slacks with fancy black boots. He held a brown leather briefcase in his right hand and checked his watch on the left. He lowered his head and whispered, "They're late; do these pants make my butt look big? Oh, huh and I gotta pee, drain the main vein, purge little Davey!" He wiggled slightly and tugged at his belt.

Hutch was hidden in a van a short distance away disguised as a telephone repair truck and listened to his partner. The van also contained a technician, and their Captain. Hutch chuckled; the Captain was not amused and gave Hutch a look, 'he's your partner.'

Starsky sighed and began to hum 'I found my thrill on blueberry hill,' as all three men in the van looked at each other. "Ya didn't have to put so much tape on the wire, Hutch. It's pullin' my chest hair. Ouch." The blond suppressed his laughter as his Captain expressed vividly with a scowl he was not impressed. He continued to hum and stopped as a car approached the warehouse, he whispered. "Showtime, turkey!"

A brand-new black Lincoln continental approached slowly and came to a stop. Two tall and broad-shouldered men emerged with guns in hand. Starsky lifted the briefcase that hung from his right hand and extended his arms outward to each side to indicate he was unarmed. The man with a gray suit coat and bike-handle mustache walked over. He proceeded to pat Starsky down rather roughly.

"Easy there fella; don't toss the family jewels. I don't even know your first name." Starsky raised his eyebrows up and down playfully, then winked at him mischievously.

The man looked at Starsky; his face was a stone statue. He cleared his throat and spoke loudly. "He's clean, Mr. Sloan." He stiffened his shoulders and glanced in the direction of his boss.

The other man opened the car door. A medium built man very expensively dressed exited with a cigarette that hung from his full lips. Jet black hair laid back exposing his chiseled features and dark eyes. Adjusting his suit coat displaying multiple rings on his fingers, he slowly made his way toward Starsky. "Do you have the money, Mr. Giovanni?" The tone was sharp and all business as he looked at Starsky undercover as Mr. Giovanni.

"Yes, Mr. Sloan, in unmarked one hundred dollar bills." Starsky raised the briefcase slowly with his right arm. The dark-haired detective trailed his eyes inquisitively over each person.

Sloan motioned Starsky to come forward to the hood of the car. The gray suited bodyguard followed. Starsky carefully placed the briefcase on the hood. "I wouldn't wanna scratch your new ride." The other guard produced a black leather briefcase from the trunk of the car and put it beside Starsky's. The guard popped the latch; it made an odd clinking noise. The briefcase opened, and it contained several brown paper packages all neatly stacked. He took a switchblade knife from his pocket and sliced a small hole that produced white powder on the blade and handed it to Starsky who tasted it. "Real deal Mr. Sloan, 100% snow." Starsky smiled confidently.

Sloan looked at the two men as they stepped back. "The money, Mr. Giovanni!" The tone was far from friendly.

Starsky popped his brown leather briefcase open and exposed neatly stacked one hundred dollar bills. "As you requested Mr. Sloan, fifty thousand dollars." Starsky's tone was edged with reassurance. He watched tentatively as the guards stepped forward. "Am I to assume we have completed our transaction?"

Sloan looked at the guards and back to Starsky, he grinned. "I'll tell you when the transaction is complete, now step back while I count the money." He dismissively motioned with his hand.

Starsky smirked and stepped back as requested. "Oh come on…don't ya trust me?" Starsky painted on a smile, looked over at the guard with the mustache. "Can ya believe him?"

The guard raised his gun in Starsky's direction as Sloan began to count the money. "Gino don't antagonize, Mr. Giovanni." Sloan sighed as Starsky played with his shirt sleeve and shrugged his shoulders. Starsky began to hum 'I fought the law and the law won.'

Back in the van Hutch watched with binoculars in hand. He chuckled and mumbled to himself. "Mush brain."

Captain Dobey glared at Hutch, not amused. "What the hell is he trying to do, get himself killed, Hutchinson?"

Sloan closed the briefcase; his thumbs pressed the metal latch causing it to click as he nodded. "It's all there, Mr. Giovanni; I'm sure your employer will be satisfied with the purchase. What did you say his name was?" Sloan tapped his fingers on the briefcase and awaited a response.

Starsky pulled his sleeve and tilted his head then shrugged his shoulders. "Don't recall mentioning it!" The man watched Starsky and took the briefcase. The other guard closed the other case, then shoved it roughly at Starsky.

Sloan stopped before he entered the car, and partially closed one eye. "A pleasure Mr. Giovanni." A mischievous twinkle beamed from his dark chocolate eyes as the words passed the partial grinning lips.

Starsky waved at him as he held the briefcase. The men retreated to the car. The curly-haired detective felt a sudden rush of uneasiness when the engine started, and the vehicle shifted into gear. Hutch called into the radio to move in when he saw the car pointed toward his partner. Starsky jumped and rolled onto a tall stack of pallets. The car rammed into them and he was ejected into a gathered group of barrels. The briefcase flew into the air and landed behind the stacked wooden material maze. The vehicle raced around in a circle with gunshots fired toward Starsky, who was hidden behind the barrels.

The van raced around the corner as four other black and whites arrived, blocking the car. It came to a screeching halt. The guards exited and fired their weapons. Hutch dove to the ground behind a barrel and fired. The bullet struck the guard with the mustache, and the other guard dropped his weapon. Starsky bolted from behind the barrel and searched for the briefcase. The uniformed officers swarmed around the car with guns extended and extracted the driver and Sloan.

Hutch placed his gun back in its holster and ran toward where his partner had disappeared. Starsky found the briefcase and made his way through pallets and barrels.

"That was close, Gordo!" Hutch shook his head. What he had just witnessed sickened him to the core.

Starsky grinned. "Saw it coming a mile away, Blondie. Did ya like my cat like moves?" Starsky swaggered with a bounce in his step over to Hutch and put his arm around his shoulder.

"They were smooth, Buddy. Let's get ya changed. You look like a pimp. Never thought I'd say it, but I like you better in your crummy blue jeans." Hutch smiled and glowed with excitement.

"A pimp…geez, I thought I looked pretty good." Starsky's smile disappeared from disappointment.

The Captain walked over to Sloan's car as officers combed through it. "Captain, you are not going to believe this, holy cow!" A young officer who didn't look old enough to be a cop, stood at the trunk of the car. He motioned the Captain over. Captain Dobey walked over and saw six more briefcases filled with money and cocaine.

"Starsky, Hutchinson!" He raised his head and motioned for his detective team to come over. The two walked over as they poked at each other, and laughed. They approached the car and saw its treasure. Starsky's eyes widened, his voice trailed with excitement. "Whoa…jackpot!"

"Shame we don't work on commission!" Hutch said this with a note of sarcasm.

The Captain smiled. "Good job gentlemen, I see a commendation in the very near future." Captain Dobey adjusted his tie as a rare wide smile formed.

Starsky shook his head, looked at both the Captain and Hutch. "I don't suppose we could get a little time off instead?" Starsky lightly nudged his partner as he requested.

The Captain glared at the curly half of the team with a look which clearly displayed 'fat chance.' Starsky formed a half smile and pulled his chin up in an 'oh well' gesture.

Chapter 2

In the locker room at Bay City Police Department, Starsky pulled on his pale blue shirt. His fingers manipulated the buttons one at a time. He sat down and put his socks on. Hutch whistled in front of the mirror at his locker as he combed his hair, "That was one hell of a bust, Starsk." He finished putting the final touch on his hair as though he were an artist painting.

Starsky sat and smiled. "Yeah, it was, I'm beat and starvin'." Starsky rubbed his stomach. "I couldn't help but feel like Sloan knew something. Huh, maybe nothin'." The tired slumped shoulders appeared to shudder. "The guy gave me the creeps." A long-labored breath followed. "This undercover stuff must be gettin' to me."

Hutch buttoned his sleeves. "Well, I think it's getting to both of us. Besides Starsky when aren't you hungry? What are you thinking?" He continued to dress.

Starsky played with his towel, and a huge grin came across his face. "How 'bout that new place on Fifth?" Starsky tilted his head, eyes full.

Hutch adjusted his shirt, as a frown formed. "Oh, come on, Starsk, I want food not leftovers from a garbage disposal. It amazes me you've survived this far on what you eat. It's a miracle in itself." Hutch combed his mustache, and waited for the sarcastic response from his partner that never came. "Did you hear me, Starsk?" Hutch turned to see his partner who appeared to be staring at his locker in a daze. "Starsk!"

Starsky startled and looked up at him as he approached. "Huh?" Starsky looked disconnected and exhausted.

"You okay?" Hutch looked at him; his expression displayed concern.

Starsky lifted his eyebrows. "Yeah, just had a creepy feelin', like somethin' bad is gonna happen. Nicky's been on my mind. Ma's been worried." He mumbled and his body shivered. "Just a long few weeks, think it's finally gettin' to me. I had to sleep with one eye open in that hell hole apartment while I was undercover." The brunet looked at his partner and grinned.

Hutch's gaze met his partner with concern. "Yah, I know. This undercover work is tough on you and me both, Pal." The trace of a partial smile appeared, but it was weighted by trepidation.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful your eyes get when ya worry, Blintz?" Starsky winked. His tone was genuine.

Hutch shook his head. The turmoil within crushed the humor. "You've mentioned it a time or two. You sure you're okay?" The words were tinged with concern. "That's the third time you've mentioned your brother in a week."

"I'm probably overreactin'. I'm hungry, Pastrami with mustard, no mayo, Blondie!" He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows to emphasize his request.

Chapter 3

Hutch returned from the cafeteria where he picked up a salad and a pastrami sandwich for his partner and brought it back to their desks. Starsky hummed something unknown as he placed the folders in the file cabinet. He moved his hips side to side and pretended he had a female partner; one arm pressed against his chest, the other held outward. The squad room and its occupants watched and laughed.

Hutch shook his head. "You know something Starsky, you keep that up they're going to arrest you for indecent exposure and assault. Besides, you're making a spectacle of yourself."

Starsky looked at Hutch as he pulled his shoulders back and pushed his chest out and displayed a dance pose. "Indecent to you, but the ladies love it." He winked.

Minnie walked through the doors as Starsky sashayed toward her with confidence. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her in a tango pose and dipped her. Minnie looked up at Hutch. "Nobody dips like Ramone, Darling." She playfully batted her eyes.

Starsky whisked her to an upright position. He gave her the Starsky full and flirtatious grin.

Her black-rimmed glasses sat slightly at the end of her nose, she adjusted them and winked at him. "Thanks, gorgeous! Do you have the Genard case file?" She adjusted her uniform.

Starsky pulled the manila file from his desk and handed it to her; he sat down to eat his sandwich.

"You know, Starsky, you're a good dancer. Maybe we should enter a dance contest?" Minnie placed her hand on her hip.

Hutch sat and looked at Minnie with expressed horror staining his face. "Oh come on Minnie, you can't be serious?"

She looked at Hutch and back at Starsky, annoyed by the blond partner's question. "Yes, I am Baby Blue, I've seen his moves. With practice, I think we could win." There was a vote of confidence in her tone.

The room of detectives broke out into laughter; Starsky's smile disappeared. He proceeded to chew his sandwich. The once energized chew displayed a lack of interest.

"You're all jealous; my money is on, Ramone." Minnie crossed her arms and winked at Starsky. "Don't mind them, doll; think about it." Folders in hand, Minnie walked away.

Hutch continued to laugh with his mouth full of salad.

"Anyone ever tell you, it's not polite to laugh with your mouth full, ya might choke?" Starsky's tone trickled with heavy annoyance. The brunet put his sandwich down. The odd, creepy, uneasy feeling consumed him along with exhaustion. He rubbed his hands with a napkin and noticed a sliver embedded in his thumb that looked infected. "Ouch, damn a sliver. Musta gotten it from them wooden crates." He stood and walked toward the door. "Be right back, need to get this thing out."

The room calmed from the earlier charades. Hutch noticed the half-eaten sandwich and continued with his salad. The sudden concern overcame him, he mumbled to himself, "Oh, stop it, Hutchinson; he hates it when you hover." He raised the fork and shoveled the salad into his mouth.

The partners had been only back to full active duty a few months. Starsky's recovery from three bullet holes from the hit ordered by James Gunther was long and slow due to complications. Although fit and cleared for duty, the energetic dark-haired detective pushed himself too hard. Hutch couldn't shake the occasional panic that consumed his core when it came to his partner's well-being.

Starsky returned a short time later with a Band-Aid that covered his thumb. He looked at his sandwich and decided he didn't want it after all. He discarded the sandwich and finished his paperwork.

Sometime later, Hutch finished typing and removed his paper from the typewriter. He glanced over at his partner who looked slightly flushed as he collated the paperwork. Hutch signed his form and handed it over to Starsky. "Sign it, and we are finished." He smiled as he extended the form.

Starsky took it and scribbled his signature, then placed it with his paperwork into a folder. "Ready to call it a night? Kinda glad ya drivin' tonight, Buddy Boy." He grabbed his jacket on the back of the chair and headed for the door.

Hutch retrieved his keys from the desk and watched his partner. The man was a walking miracle but something was different. The blond recalled a sense of hypervigilance in his partner. Starsky always had good gut instincts. The difference is he appeared to know or sense things before they happened. Huggy's theory was a friend of a friend, who was a psychic, claimed near death experiences sometimes awakens intuitive abilities. On the other hand, was Starsky over doing things and facing a burn out?

"Hey…You're doin' it again, Blondie. No, I am not over doing it. Are ya coming, Mom?" The shoulders drooped and his bounce became more of a slow swagger.

Hutch watched and shook his head in amazement. He attempted to tame the beast called 'worry.' "You know something, Starsky…Mother's Day came and went. You never got me flowers." He raised the corner of his mouth sheepishly as he followed.

Chapter 4

As Hutch drove, the weather intensified. The torrential downpour demanded he focus ahead. Starsky leaned his head onto the window and was fast asleep. Hutch came to a stop due to traffic and glanced over at his partner and noticed the bandaged thumb. The street lights cast spotted shadows upon the severely swollen thumb. The worried blond reached over and touched his partner's hand to examine it. Since the attack at the PD ordered by James Gunther, Hutch had a tendency to get worked up or panic when it came to his partner's health.

Starsky startled and hollered. "Ahh! What are ya doin'? That hurts!" His face was fueled with anger.

The traffic began to move, and Hutch refocused and drove. "Your thumb is infected; maybe we should go and get it checked out, Starsk?" The request was laced with empathy.

Starsky turned his head, his eyes wide. He was furious. "Would you quit it, Hutch?" The harsh tone caught Hutch off guard and ignited his anger.

"Quit what, Starsky? You know you can't risk infections." His loud voice filled the compartment. "Fine! Let it get infected! Gangrene will set in!" His tone stung the air and caught his dark-haired partner's attention.

Starsky sat up, his frustration soared and hands flailed. "You can't let me have one good bust without hovering over me like a mother goose. It's always Starsky this, Starsky that! Ya worry too much!" His voice was strained and frustrated.

Hutch's shoulders tightened, and his jaw was rigid. "I wouldn't have to hover if you acted like an adult instead of a child, ya moron!" The response stung like a bee.

Starsky looked over at Hutch, both their eyes locked with fiery anger. "A child?" His voice was so loud, it was almost a shriek. His eyes were wild and his nostrils flared.

Hutch maneuvered the battered Ford to park in front of Starsky's place behind the Torino. The wind picked up and rain poured; he slammed the hand shifter on the steering column into park.

With the car stopping suddenly, Starsky lunged forward as the brake and park was engaged. "A child, is that what you think of me, Hutch? A child and a moron?" Starsky rubbed his face and looked at his partner.

Hutch looked ahead and then looked at his partner, his lips pressed together. "If the shoe fits, wear it, chump!" There was a distinct bite in the tone of voice.

Starsky glared at him; his eyes were wild and wide. "Excuse me, while I remove my childlike moronic self from this trash barrel ya call a car, Mr. Perfect!" Starsky reached for the door handle causing pain to his thumb. "Aww, damn! Just go." Starsky bolted out of the car. The rain immediately soaked him. He slammed the car door which opened back on him. He slammed it once again and walked up the stairs slower than his usual bouncy stride.

"STARSKY…wait!" Hutch sat in his car with his head down, rubbed his forehead, and released a long overdue sigh. "What the hell just happened?"

Starsky immediately felt dizzy, a flash of his brother's face appeared before him as he climbed the steps. Drenched from the downpour of rain, he reached the top of the steps. He couldn't move. "Nicky?" He shook his head and the vision disappeared. The rain pelted against his face. "I must be tired or goin' bananas."

Hutch sat in the car, rubbed his face as frustration erupted. He pressed his lips together. "Dammit, damn you, Starsky!" The blond's large hand slammed the steering wheel several times; he took a deep breath. Hutch looked around as the wind increased. The visibility was poor and from the darkness of the surrounding homes, the power appeared to be out. "Huh, how's he going to unlock the door in the dark, stubborn mule?" He glanced out the passenger window.

Starsky had made it to the door, but couldn't see to unlock it; he fumbled with the keys in the thickness of the night and storm. "Terrific, I can't see a damn thing. Damn you, Hutch!" The rain soaked him. He spoke to himself; his voice wasn't much above a whisper as he leaned his head against the door. "M-sorry, Hutch!"

Hutch put his wipers on high; the rain pelted the windshield so hard he couldn't see. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Starsk!" Hutch froze; concern and fear trailed down his spine like pinpricks. Turning the ignition off, he grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment. He exited the car abruptly and ran up the stairs. Starsky was leaning against the door. Hutch pulled the keys from Starsky's hand and nudged his partner out of the way, steadying the flashlight as the keys chimed. He opened the door, and both entered and closed the door behind them.

Starsky searched for a lantern and candles and located them; he lit them. Once he had enough light, he went over and sat on the couch. He shivered.

Hutch stood next to the couch. He also had the chill; he rubbed his hands together. "That's one nasty storm!" Hutch immediately took the flashlight and went into the bathroom and reappeared with towels and two robes. "Come on; let's get out of these wet clothes!" He extended the towel and blue robe. They removed their wet clothes. Starsky wore the blue plush garment; Hutch quickly put on the white one. The distinct expression on his face was one of worry as he approached the couch, tying his robe. Hutch grabbed Starsky's hand and gently examined the thumb. "This is infected. I thought you got the sliver out?" His eyes focused on Starsky.

Starsky looked at him, anger no longer etched in his features. " I thought I got them out." He bowed his head slightly. "There was more than one storm out there tonight." He eyes raised to meet his partners. "Didn't mean what I said. I'm just on edge…sorry, Hutch." The words were seasoned with his New York accent.

Hutch removed the band-aid as he smiled. "Yeah, well you're a pain in the butt, but that's why I keep you around, Ollie." A genuine smile formed, as the soaked blond's head shook from side to side. "I…I'm sorry too."

Starsky reached and touched Hutch's arm, brushed it lightly. "Truth is that's why I keep ya around, Blintz. Ya know how to nurse me; you're a nag and pain in the butt." A deep sigh followed the words.

Hutch took Starsky's hand and looked at the thumb. It was discolored and swollen. "I need to tend to this thumb, Gordo." Hutch stood and went to the bathroom again and retrieved some first-aid supplies. He went to the kitchen and filled a larger pan with water from the faucet. The pipes hissed. He returned and held the pan over the lantern and heated the water.

The weather was worse; the wind whipped the branches against the building. The rain was steady and loud on the roof as Hutch heated the water over the lantern. He placed the pan on a towel on the coffee table and took Starsky's injured hand. He examined it in the light and used the tweezers to remove two more splinters. Hutch took some Epsom salt and poured it into the pan and submerged the hand into the hot water. Starsky winced but allowed it.

Hutch went to the refrigerator, pulled two beers, brought them back to the living room and sat on the coffee table. "Here you go, Buddy." He handed the bottle to Starsky.

Starsky drank it slowly, watching the flicker of the candle. "Thanks."

Hutch removed Starsky's hand from the pan, dried it and began to add ointment and bandaged it. He looked at his partner. "I don't mean to hover Starsk; it's just…huh." His eyes wandered away from embarrassment.

Starsky looked at him and gave him a half grin. "It's just that ya care. I know, thanks, Pal." The words were soft but meaningful.

Hutch could sense something; he gathered all the first-aid debris and delivered them to the trash in the kitchen. "What's eating at you, partner?" His tone held profound concern.

Starsky sat on the couch lost in thought; he scratched the side of his face. "Ya gonna think I'm weird, "Starsky responded, as he looked at his tall blond partner, who approached him. Hutch sat on the coffee table in front of Starsky and he rolled his eyes. Starsky chuckled, his features softened. His expression took on a veil of darkness. "I saw Nicky. Well not physically, it was like a flash. It's been happenin' a lot."

Hutch leaned his elbows on his knees and thought. "Like a premonition?" He raised his eyebrows.

Starsky shrugged his shoulders in response, frowned, and sighed. "Maybe, I don't get a good feelin', Hutch. Somethin' just doesn't feel right." He bit his bottom lip, then pressed his lips tightly together. Fear made its presence known in his eyes.

Hutch sighed, turned his head slightly. "All kidding aside Gordo, that gut of yours has gotten us out of a lot of jams. This storm isn't letting up and we're both exhausted. What do you say we get some sleep." He gave his partner a genuine smile.

Chapter 5

Hutch had retired to the couch after he located a pillow and blanket. Starsky changed into his PJ bottoms and T-shirt and crawled into bed. A candle was left to burn in the living room and another in the bedroom.

The wind increased. A low leaning branch slammed into the house along with a loud crash of thunder. Starsky bolted up out of bed and onto the floor in a defensive pose; his eyes were wide and dark. Hutch was startled and catapulted from the couch. He remembered where he was and went toward the bedroom. Starsky dazed and confused put his hands out in front of him. Hutch stopped and softly spoke. "Starsk, it's me." He watched Starsky intently.

Starsky seemed to calm. "Hutch?" He caught his breath, calming himself.

Hutch relaxed and smiled. "Yeah, it's me mush brain." Hutch rubbed his stomach and yawned.

"Moron to mush brain!" Starsky blinked several times to adjust his vision and smiled. He looked at his thumb which looked and felt better. "Thumbs feelin' better." He admired it with amazement. Then looked around and back at his friend. "What happened?"

Hutch stretched, and looked back toward the window. "Something hit the building and there was thunder. I came in to check on you." He looked toward the bedroom window.

Starsky scratched his head. "I was havin' a nightmare; Nicky had a gun pointed at us." His face displayed confusion. "Good thing ya got my back, even when I'm a jackass." Starsky winked at him, stretched and yawned.

Hutch put his head down and sighed and started to laugh. "Yeah, well, I've been known to wear that badge too, Gordo!" They both laughed.

The storm had quietened down. Starsky made his way, with a little guidance from his partner, to the living room. Hutch lit the lantern then carried it over to the coffee table. Starsky sat on the arm of the couch. Hutch stood by the coffee table and stretched. The brunet reached for the candle near the half-empty beer on the coffee table. Something of a flicker and shadow caught his eye at the window. Starsky paused to refocus, his eyes widened. "H-U-T-C-H!" Immediately he lunged toward his partner and tackled him to the floor.

The sound of glass shattering, and a single gunshot echoed. Starsky landed on top of his partner and rolled off to the side; Hutch scrambled to get his gun from the heap of damp clothes on the floor. Starsky rolled and searched for his gun next to the coffee table and pulled it out of the holster.

Hutch reached for the lantern and blew it out . They both stayed low and watched the windows. Side by side, crawling on their stomachs they positioned themselves near the front door. Starsky was on the left and Hutch was on the right with their backs against the wall.

Starsky checked his gun, glanced over toward Hutch. "You okay?" he whispered.

Hutch checked his gun as well, acknowledged his partner's concerned tone. "Yeah, you?" The words were thick and breathy.

Starsky took a deep breath. "Yah, I'll be better when we find out what the hell this is all about."

The doorknob wiggled as both men glanced at each other, there were several blasts of gunfire. Both men crouched and covered their heads. The door opened and the barrel of a rifle appeared. Starsky jumped up and pushed the door hard, knocking the weapon from the dark figure's hands.

Hutch positioned his gun in the direction of the shadowy figure. "I wouldn't move if I were you!" Hutch's eyes were wide and his tone dangerous.

Starsky pulled the door back and inched his gun in front of the figure. "Do as he says, punk!" His gun pointed with intension; eyes focused on his target.

Without warning, the figure elbowed Hutch and knocked him back, then kicked Starsky in the gut. The dark mysterious shadow then disappeared. Starsky fell to his knees. Hutch recovered and went out the door. The entity was long gone into the foggy darkness.

"Ohhhhhh, son-of-a-…!" Starsky gasped.

Hutch looked around and came back in to check on his partner who was trying to get to his feet. The blond extended his hand as he gasped for air. "What the hell was that?" The words were coming between breaths as he assisted his partner from the crouched position.

Starsky comforted his stomach with one hand. "The grim reaper channelin', Bruce Lee." Starsky closed his eyes tight and blurted the words out as he bent over and gasped.

Hutch assisted his partner to the couch and searched for the matches to light the lantern. He took a deep breath, and looked at his partner. "You okay?"

Starsky widened his eyes, acknowledged his partner's concern and question. "Just freakin' terrific!" He chuckled to ease the concern.

Hutch grabbed the phone and dialed as he raised one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is Detective Hutchinson. Oh, hello, Mildred, yeah dispatch a crime lab and team to 2000 Ridgeway. Yes, that's Starsky's address. Oh, let Captain Dobey know, thank you." Hutch placed the handset back onto the cradle and moved the lantern and sat in front of Starsky who had recovered.

"So, who did we tick-off this time?" Starsky's raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"I could be wrong, but I think this has to do with Sloan's bust." Hutch responded with confidence as he rubbed his face and looked at Starsky.

"Yeah, well, maybe they didn't like my suit either." Starsky raised his eyebrows and grinned as he lowered himself onto the couch.

Hutch laughed and slapped Starsky's leg lightly. His gaze met his partner's. "I'll take back the moron, but you're still a mush brain. Thanks for having my back, Buddy!" He reached and ruffled a cluster of brunet curls.

Hutch grabbed a towel from the coffee table and went over to the door littered with bullet holes and retrieved the rifle with the towel. He examined it. "Someone wanted us dead, Starsk!" The words took on a serious tone.

Starsky laid back and closed his eyes. "Maybe there's an open season on mush brains, or morons, or someone with bad taste in clothes?" Starsky snickered, opened his eyes, upon his sarcastic remark. "I'm willin' to bet it has to do with that train wreck ya call a car."

Hutch looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "Well, we took down over a million in this drug bust; I'd say we ruffled someone's feathers. Leave my car out of this will ya." Amused, he shook his head and chuckled. His focused blue eyes examined the gun and moved closer to the lantern. "There's a handmade inscription on this gun."

The street lights came on, and Hutch turned on the lamp and brought the gun to his partner. Starsky carefully took the gun and looked at the etching. His face went blank and the color drained. His lips partly separated and eyes bulged. "T..TAKE IT; Hutch t..t…take it!" Starsky struggled to get the words out. He looked away.

Hutch looked at his partner and took the gun. "Starsk, what is it?" He looked at the gun and read the inscription DMS. "Starsk?" His eyebrows were raised in confusion.

Starsky took a deep breath and stood slowly. He looked at his partner; he looked like he had seen a ghost. "That's my gun." The heightened fear shaded his features and words.

Hutch looked at the gun and back at his partner, a crease formed on his forehead. "What do you mean your gun?"

Starsky crossed his arms over his chest and put one of his hands to his chin and rubbed it. "Military issued M21, Nam, with my initials DMS." His voice trembled slightly.

Hutch swallowed as shock overtook his features. "DMS is David Michael Starsky." He mumbled the name as his eyes widened.

Starsky abruptly walked away to the kitchen and sat at the table, his head bowed. "I haven't seen that gun since I put it in storage, the last three digits are four six three."

The sound of sirens approached, Hutch looked again and noticed that his partner was correct the last three digits were four six three, his mouth partially opened.

Chapter 6

Starsky's place swarmed with black and whites and forensics. The brunet sat at the kitchen table. He seemed to be hundreds of miles away in thought. Hutch stood in the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Captain Dobey spoke to one of the lab technicians that held the gun. "See if you can get any prints off that gun."

The technician walked by Starsky who looked at the gun as it passed by him. His demeanor wasn't characteristic of his normal behavior. He stood and went into the bathroom and shut the door. Hutch tensed as Captain Dobey walked toward him. "Is he okay?" He looked at his concerned detective.

Hutch crossed his arms and inhaled deeply. "Define okay! No, Captain he's not okay," he snapped. He immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The Captain pulled a hanky from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. "That's an M21 sniper/marksman rifle the army issues. How the hell did someone get his rifle?" He pulled at the chair Starsky had sat in earlier and sat down. "Hutch, how long has the gun been in action?"

Hutch rubbed his forehead and looked up gesturing his hand outward. "I don't know; I don't get a good feeling about this, Captain." The fear and uncertainty was evident in his features. The unsettling churning in his stomach accompanying the worry made things feel even worse.

The door to the bathroom opened. Starsky appeared on the threshold. He leaned against the door frame of the bathroom with his head down and picked at something on his finger. "I brought it back home with me. I recovered it from the POW camp. When I got home, I couldn't part with it, but couldn't bear to be reminded so I stashed it all away in my Uncle Al's storage area in the garage. I haven't seen it till tonight." Starsky kept his eyes connected to the floor. He couldn't face his superior, he couldn't face his partner.

Hutch knew he was uncomfortable and in a fragile state. There were circumstances that not even a best friend was allowed to know: like what went on in Vietnam. He hesitated before he asked the question that was on his mind. "Starsky, you were Sniper?"

Starsky scratched his head and glanced up hesitantly, his eyes seemed like lost souls as he looked at Hutch. "Yeah, I was one of ten in our infantry, only three of us survived." Starsky crossed his arms as though protecting himself.

Hutch rubbed his neck and looked at his partner. He saw and felt the turmoil within him. "You don't have to give us the details, Starsk." He extended the reserved tone to comfort.

Starsky looked at him and sighed. "I-I...um, I'll call Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al." Starsky retreated to the bedroom with his head hung low and closed the door.

The Captain sighed, turning his eyes toward the blond detective. "Let's hope that gun hasn't been used on anyone else." The uneasiness lay under the commanding voice.

Hutch walked up behind his superior and looked toward the closed bedroom door.

A young officer by the name of Gordon approached Hutch. "Hey Hutch, we've done a complete sweep. The wind and rain might have taken any evidence if there was any." The young officer delivered a professional demeanor.

The Captain stood, and sighed. "Gordon, I want a black and white outside this house until further notice."

The young man acknowledged and walked away. The remainder of the officers exited behind him.

Starsky exited the bedroom with his shoulders slumped; his expression told a story of disappointment and anger. "Uncle Al says Nicky was here a few weeks ago." The brunet informed them as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I never saw him; he must have gone through my things in the storage area of the garage. They weren't aware he'd gone in there until now. Son-of-a…aww damn him!" Starsky again crossed his arms over his chest.

Captain Dobey sighed and walked toward the door. "Starsky I'll leave this to you and Hutch to handle, NO PRIVATE PARTIES…you hear me? If that gun…we'll deal with it then." Captain Dobey walked to the door, hesitated. Starsky nodded as he exited.

Hutch sat on the back of the couch. Licking his lips, the chiseled jaw of concern evident. "Hey?"

For the first time, Starsky committed to the eye contact with his partner. "I'm okay, no…I'm not; I could strangle that little creep! I know what Dobey's thinkin' about the gun. It was used to try and kill you…me. Why? How many others?" Starsky walked to the counter and with his left hand punched the cabinet door. The brunet's shoulders were rigid and his jaw followed suit. The tension showed through his t-shirt in mounds of coiled muscle.

Hutch just looked at him, then sighed. He bowed his head and placed his hands on his hips. "Okay, Sylvia Browne, so much for the gut intuition. What do you want to do, Starsk?"

Starsky leaned on the counter as his anger simmered. "I need to go to Uncle Al's to see what else he took."

Chapter 7

The following morning, they arrived at Uncle Al's and entered the back area of the garage to a storage room. Starsky entered with his key and went directly to a closet in the back where he found the padlock destroyed and noticed a broken back window.

Hutch looked around at all the storage boxes and miscellaneous items of furniture. "Well, it looks like he entered from this window. This stuff looks ancient, Starsk." He gazed inquisitively.

Starsky opened the closet door and pulled out a camouflage style bag. He rummaged through it. "Shells are gone, Pop's pistol and the rifle." He tossed the bag on the ground and went back in the closet and pulled out an unsealed box. He set it on the old bureau and pulled a wooden detailed carved jewelry box out. His eyes focused and hands shook as he opened the jewelry box, then he placed the carved detailed box back into the cardboard box opened. "He took them!" His voice trembled with hurt and emotion.

Hutch waited and saw from Starsky's expression of sadness it was something important. "Took what, Buddy?"

Starsky cleared his throat. "Pop's cuff links, my grandpop's wedding ring." Starsky's voice whispered. "Terry's engagement ring." He stared at the empty, small, black velvet box sitting in the wooden jewelry box. Delicately he took the empty ring box into his hand. His fingers grasped around it as though it were Terry herself. He dropped it into the cardboard box.

The last item announced hit Hutch in the heart. He too loved Terry, who meant so much to his partner. Terry was injured and died from a bullet to the head inflicted by George Prudholm as revenge for his son Gary who died in prison.

Hutch reached over and placed his hand onto his partner's arm. "I'm sorry, Buddy." He bowed his head and grasped his best friend's shoulder to comfort.

Starsky placed everything back into the closet and remained silent. His back was to his partner as inner rage simmered, his lips pressed tight.

Chapter 8

Starsky sat at his desk filling out forms. His shoulders were rigid and his face contained a no-nonsense expression. Starsky reached for the phone and dialed, he took a deep breath and rubbed his jaw. "Hey Ma, no…I'm okay, geez Ma. I'm fine; I love you too." He looked around the room to make sure no one heard him. "Ma did Nicky mention coming to see Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al?" He sighed and waited. "What has he been up to?" Starsky listened, his eyes widened. "Louis Zancko? Ma don't say anything to Nicky when ya talk to him until I tell ya, okay? It's important, please keep it between us. I love you, Ma. Yeah, talk soon, kisses." He put the handset down; he felt and heard the distinct glare of eyes and laughter. Embarrassed he looked around to address them. "Oh come on, ya all tell your Ma ya love her."

Hutch walked through the double doors entirely focused on the papers he held in his hand. The look on the blond's face appeared unsettled as he sat across from his partner; Starsky looked over at him. Hutch looked up as his eyes met his partner's. A silent conversation took place. Both men stood and headed to their Captain's office. Starsky knocked and entered. The Captain was not in his office. Starsky turned to Hutch. "How many?" The brunet slammed the door.

Hutch startled and cringed. The report had come back on the gun. Hutch's jaw tightened as he looked directly into his partner's eyes. "Six between the east coast to here in Bay City. All were cops. All had ties in various stages of investigating Sohar and Sloan. The bullets in evidence all match with a distinctive etched marking." The blond's voice held an edge of anger.

Starsky's eyes turned to look away as he repositioned himself and sat on the arm of the chair. "A zig zag etching. All killed with my gun!" His eyes focused on the floor ahead of him, sadness hung heavy in his features.

Hutch sat across from him, he looked at the paper and back at his partner. He arched a single eyebrow upward. "Starsk, it's not your fault." His voice was calm, soothing and sincere.

Starsky raised his eyes to look at Hutch. Two sets of blue eyes met, filled with intense emotions. "My gun, my brother…I didn't pull the trigger, but I'm still to blame." A tone of edginess expressed.

Hutch pressed his right hand to his face and sighed. "Wait just a minute here, Starsky! I don't want to hear that comin' from you again. You're not to blame!" he snapped.

Starsky's anger left as defeat settled in. The cocky, confident, appearance was not present. "Louis Zancko a syndicate wannabe from the East Coast, he's slippery enough to be linked with Sloan. Nicky stole everything to buy his way in with the sleazeball, or he owes them money. I talked to Ma, Nicky told her he was off on business, and she hasn't seen or heard from him in weeks. He's here Hutch. I saw it, and I felt it, damn it. Somethin' was tellin' me loud and clear." His shoulders were rigid, but not confident.

Hutch looked down at the paperwork. "That's just great, that self-righteous little jerk strikes again." Hutch's tone growled with frustration and ignited the protective nature for his partner as he looked at him. "Sorry Buddy, I have had enough of Nicholas Starsky to last me a lifetime." Hutch was startled when the door opened.

The Captain walked in and was also surprised. "What are you two doing in my office?" the Captain barked sharply. Hutch handed the paperwork over as they turned their attention to him. The Captain took it and read the information and sat down, his chair creaked. "Six police officers?" The Captain's voice uncharacteristically soft cut through Starsky like a butcher knife. The brunet bowed his head. The Captain noted the dark-haired brunet's silent agonized demeanor called self-punishment. Briefly he turned and looked at Hutch, then sighed. His eyes reverted to the quiet detective. "Starsky, you are not responsible for any of this, do you understand me?" The Captain shifted in his chair, his tone crisp and direct. "They found a black hooded sweat shirt about a half mile from your place. This was found in the pocket." He pulled an evidence bag from his own pocket. The Captain handed it over to Hutch, who examined it thoroughly.

"A napkin from The Pits, bullets, and your address on the napkin, Starsk." He took a deep breath after speaking. The evidence and situation sickened Hutch to the very core.

Starsky took it and shook his head and handed it back to Hutch. "My brother's handwriting, he set me up…damn you, Nicky. My own brother set me up." Hurt scarred its stain over his features. The telltale quiver in his voice supplied additional evidence of the spiral of disappointment. Starsky put his hands on his face and then ran his fingers through his hair; frustration aged his features. "A gun I used to defend my country is now out to kill me and maybe Hutch. It killed six cops. How ironic? My brother is behind it." His voice monotoned, he stood and looked at the floor. He couldn't face his partner or the Captain. He headed for the door and opened it slowly. "I need some air!" His voice trembled. The door slammed behind him.

Hutch did not have time to react; he sat and held the evidence bag. "Starsky thinks Nicky stole the gun and jewelry as a payoff or maybe as an initiation to Louis Zancko, with possible ties to Sloan." He fumbled with the evidence bag in his hands. "This stinks."

The Captain rubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Nicholas is hell-bent on making a name for himself, only this time he may have signed a death sentence for his brother, your partner." He adjusted his suit jacket then reached and loosened his tie.

Hutch handed the Captain the evidence bag. He stood tall and his eyes focused. "Not as long as I can do something about it. If I get my hands on that little punk…!" he said with intention, but didn't finish the sentence. The Hutchinson finger pointed and slowly folded inward and into a fist. His stance was tall, rigid and the look of determination on his face was a man out for someone's hide. He turned to leave the office.

Chapter 9

Starsky sat on a cement protective barrier in the Bay City PD garage. The area was busy with police officers entering or exiting. He looked around, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Some mess you got yourself into, Nicky."

Just above on the roof across from the precinct, sat a man in a black robe with an M40 rifle pointed down at Starsky, but he didn't have a clear shot. Patiently the man waited. He had a grasp on the hand held radio. Pressing the mic button, he brought the device to his mouth. "I'm in position; you know what to do. Remember the deal?" He scanned the rooftop and looked down onto the garage parking lot area. Hidden behind a car across the lot was Nicky, who had beads of sweat pouring down his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya." Nicky dumped the radio onto the ground behind the car and stood up. He swaggered toward his brother as he adjusted his tan, fancy suit coat and glanced towards the rooftop.

Starsky was looking down at the ground and noticed a pair of shiny fancy brown shoes; he didn't react or look up. "What are you doing here, Nicky?" His shoulders became rigid as he stood slowly and raise his head to make eye contact.

Nicky shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "That any way to greet your little brother, Davey?" He grinned.

Starsky met his brother's eyes, with a cold steel-eyed stare. "Why, Nicky?"

The man twitched and chuckled, the nervousness enhanced his body movements. "Why? What are ya talking about, Davey?" The pitch of his voice depicted an exaggerated larger than life attitude.

Starsky's eyes were fierce and displayed anger. "Ya stole my gun, and the jewelry, don't ya dare deny it!" He raised his hand and pointed at his brother.

Nicky began to pace, one hand on his hip. "I asked ya to help me, Davey, ya wouldn't. Why wouldn't ya, Davey?" he shouted in anger. The angered sibling inched his way to the middle of the parking lot.

Starsky followed his brother out of the garage. His shoulder rigid and eyes tunneled toward him, he raised his left hand and pointed once again. "Oh come on Nicky, ya cleaned Ma out, and now ya wanna do the same to me all because you're out to prove yourself. Face it, little brother, all ya provin' is that ya make bad choices." Starsky's voice echoed in the parking lot and gathered attention from the other officers. One of them was Simmons, a fellow Detective.

The seasoned fellow officer turned and walked to the nearest phone on the wall and dialed. "Hutch, you better get down to the parking garage. Your partner and his little brother are about to get into it." He hung up the phone and moved in closer and watched.

Nicky moved out into the parking lot. His hands flew up the air in exasperation. "Choices…yeah. You left me behind big brother, walked away. My big brother, the all mighty super-cop, Vietnam big shot. You know what it's like to try to live up to Mr. Perfect? Do ya, Davey?" He shifted from one leg to the other waving his hands.

Starsky walked by him; his emotions boiled like a tea kettle. He stopped, his hands balled into fists. "You know what they say, it's lonely on the top. Tell me about Zancko? Who had my gun? There are six cops dead from my gun! The gun you stole, little brother. Hope you're proud of yourself. I didn't have a choice in leaving, Ma saw to that. I don't blame Ma, got over that a long time ago." Starsky's face was rigid, his tone blemished with simmering rage and extremely elevated emotion.

Nicky started to pace again and looked around, his lips tight. "Ya blame Ma, and ya blamed Pop. I needed ya, Davey, and where were ya? Huh…saving the damn world. You and Hutch! Where is the faggot anyways? He's usually glued to your side?" Nicky shouted and made a lewd hand gesture with his hands.

The once chaotic parking lot was now still. All eyes were on the two brothers. Hutch bolted out of the elevator and was met by Simmons. The longtime colleague pointed in Starsky's direction. Hutch walked at a fast pace toward the brothers.

Starsky's eyes grew cold as he reached and grabbed Nicky by the jacket, pulled him in. They were face to face. "Don't ever call my partner that again!" Starsky released him. The younger dark-haired man stumbled back. The elder brother's jaw was stiff, and teeth clenched. "Don't blame me for your lack of judgment, Nicky. Either way, you wanted the easy way out. You've signed a death sentence for the both of us with Zancko." Starsky's voice echoed in the parking garage area. The tension intensified with Nicky as he glanced up and saw the rifle pointed at his brother.

Hutch was a mere fifty feet away. Nicky looked up toward the gunman again, and then looked directly at his brother. His voice trembled. "Davey, I had no choice, Zancko was gonna kill Ma. Listen to me, Davey! I love ya, okay, please forgive me? I'm going to make it right! Please forgive me?" Tears rolled down his cheek as a gunshot echoed. Nicky lunged toward his brother aggressively.

Hutch froze and retrieved his gun. Simmons was behind the tall blond; they assumed their positions to cover. Nicky landed on top of his big brother as they crashed to the ground. Starsky pushed Nicky off and pulled his gun and pointed in the direction of the sniper shot.

Hutch reached his partner with his gun pointing upward and searched like a hawk for its prey. The parking lot swarmed with police; Starsky looked down to see his brother still on the ground motionless. He put his gun back in its holster, his face tattooed with worry and fear. His voice softer, laced with concern. "Nicky!" He knelt down on the ground next to his brother and grabbed him. Gently he turned him over as he wrapped his arms around to cradle him.

"Nicky?" Starsky repositioned himself in a seated position and held his brother; his face was pale and strained with worry. Starsky saw blood on his own arms and hands. "SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Starsky hollered, his face washed with panic. This caught Hutch's attention as he put his gun back in its holster and walked to his partner's side and crouched down. He placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "Th…they're c…calling for an ambulance." The stutter was present. His large hand squeezed his partner's shoulder.

Nicky was pale, his eyes were watery as he grinned at his brother. "Davey, don't yell, geez." He gasped the words out.

Starsky looked at him and attempted to present a comforting smile. "We're gonna get ya help, Nicky; take it easy. Ya gonna be alright." His voice cracked with a strained New York accent.

Tears escaped the corner of Nicky's eyes. "Sorry big brother, not your fault. I bit off more than I could chew. I was movin' up in the organization. My initiation was to prove to them I was serious. I took the gun and jewelry. It wasn't supposed to go down like this, Davey. Zohar snitched, told them you were a cop and my brother." The breaths were short and labored. "Sloan's bust is how they connected ya to me. Those cops, the six dead ones were all set to testify against Sloan and the organization. They kept the gun over my head, and Ma…they were gonna kill her." The words came out with quick raspy breaths.

"Not now! Okay? We need to get ya to the hospital." Starsky reached to stroke his brother's hair as his hand shook.

Nicky coughed, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and he reached up and touched Starsky's cheek to caress it. "Tell Ma I'm sorry, and I love her…don't hate ya D-Davey, proud of y-ya! Wanted to be like ya. I went about it the wrong way." His words were slurred and breathy.

Starsky gritted his teeth to keep his emotions in check as he rocked his brother. "Why Nicky, why?" The words pleaded.

Hutch bowed his head and squeezed his partner's shoulder.

Starsky looked around, squinted, his breathing was labored. "Where's that ambulance?" He gritted his teeth together, jaw tightened.

Nicky looked at him, coughed. "Zancko's…connected to S-sloan, shooter is Chan Ye Ling known as da Lion. Davey, you are in d-deep. Sloan's the middleman to Casper Sohar. They waaaant ya d-d-dead." He began to cough again, and more blood spewed as he reached into his pocket then extended his hand to his brother. Starsky grasped his hand and noticed Nicky had something hidden in the palm of his hand. The trembling hand opened very slowly to expose a diamond ring. Terry's ring. Starsky took it and looked at his brother who had difficulty breathing.

"Nicky you hang in there; I love ya, little brother. Ya, hear me?" The words started as an order and softened in tone and expressed heart breaking emotion. The tormented blue eyes shimmered with threatening tears.

Nicky looked up at Hutch and smiled. "I was always jealous of ya, Hutch. T-take c-care of D-Davey, please?" The breaths caught in his throat from all the fluid.

Hutch looked at his partner's brother and acknowledged with a nod. Emotions buried behind a soft, calm, and cool exterior. "Always!"

Nicky looked at his brother as he took his last breath. Starsky placed his trembling hand on his brother's chest. "Nicky? Nicky…No, nooo!" The hand slid to his neck to feel for a pulse. "God…no!" His voice a whispered plea as his shoulders jerked with silent sobs.

The sound of the ambulance approaching echoed. Starsky pulled Nicky into a tight embrace. Hutch squeezed his shoulder and bowed his head and connected to his partner's head of curls. "I'm here, Buddy. I'm here."

The officers along with Captain Dobey all witnessed the younger Starsky's confession and last words. The officers all looked simultaneously at one another. They removed their hats and bowed to honor a fellow police officer who mourned.

Chapter 10

Starsky sat in an interrogation room stricken with grief. His features displayed sunken shadows beneath his eyes and paleness. His shirt, hands and arm were covered in blood, his brother's blood. He reached for the phone and dialed it with quivering hands. He leaned his elbows on the table, and his head bowed supported by his right hand.

"Ma yeah, I know, listen, I need to tell ya something. Who's there with ya?" He paused and took a deep breath, closed his eyes and swallowed. "Yeah tell Lilith I said hello. Ma, I need ya to listen… I need to talk to ya about Nicky." His voice cracked as he gritted his teeth and fought the over-stressed levee that held his tears. "He saved my life today. Ma, Nicky's dead. I'm sorry Ma, m-sorry." Starsky had his head bowed, his eyes closed. Moisture poured from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks.

Hutch had opened the door quietly and heard the last part of the conversation; he stopped and eased himself in cautiously.

"Ma did you hear me, Nicky got shot…he d-didn't make it. I'm so sorry. He said he was sorry and to tell ya he loved ya!" Starsky's shoulders quivered, but he made no sound. The need to cry weighted the corners of his mouth southward and caused his chin to quiver.

A moment passed with silence, his shoulders tightened, and he gritted his teeth. Starsky's body trembled, he could no longer speak. Hutch walked up beside him and touched his shoulder. Carefully, he took the phone from his distraught partner. The brunet lowered his head onto his crossed arms on the table.

Hutch took a deep breath and spoke. "Mrs. Starsky…Ma its Ken, I-I'm sorry…v-v very s-sorry. David is fine. He wasn't hit." Hutch raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he sighed. "It's important that you listen to me, Chief Esposito is on his way to see you, and he will fill you in on all the details. It is very important that you do as he says. It is possible you are in danger. He'll explain everything." Hutch wiped a stray tear from his eye. "I'll tell him you love him, yes…I'll take care of him; you have my word. I-l-love you too, we'll talk to you soon." Hutch held the phone, blinked a few times and reached over and hung the receiver in the cradle.

Starsky slowly raised his head, no tears, no emotion. A blank, pale face with sad glazed-over eyes averted the usual contact. "Thanks. I-I couldn't…" His mouth hung open.

Hutch sat next to him and faced him. He gently cupped his hand over his partner's arm and squeezed. "I'm here, whatever you need." He watched tentatively and made sure his partner heard him.

Starsky looked at his hands. They trembled as he saw they were covered in dried blood. Terry's ring dangled from his pinky. "He couldn't go through with it. He took the bullet meant for me, Hutch." He vacantly stared at the ring.

Hutch looked at his partner and bowed his head; he took a deep breath. "I know buddy; they found a radio behind a squad car and one on the roof." His eyes searched the man that mourned deeply before him.

Starsky's eyes darkened and a cold disconnected hardness formed on his face. "I love him and hate him at the same time. I shoulda been there for him. Ma sent me away, and then I ran away. Which one of us was really the bad seed? I was supposed to be the man of the house." Starsky's face was drawn in appearance; darkness formed over glazed, black purled eyes, a man on the edge.

Hutch saw the transformation and gripped his partner's arm firmly and tightened his jaw. He looked directly into blue withdrawn pools of angst. "DON'T…do this to yourself, Starsky!" His emotions trickled through his words. The blond's eyes finished the message silently 'don't you dare do this, not for that selfish little jerk'.

Starsky stood slowly and swallowed, his face softened. "I need to wash my hands." He gently pulled from Hutch's grip. The usual pronounced swagger a simple defeated unsteady walk. His shoulders held invisible weight as he slowly exited.

Hutch put his hands over his face. As he pulled his hands downward, he exposed dire concern, fear, and worried eyes. "Don't do this Starsky. Please don't shut down." He cupped his hand over his mouth.

Chapter 11

Hutch emerged from the interrogation room. Huggy appeared at the end of the hall. He carried a large paper bag. He waved to Hutch and swaggered his way over. "My man, sorry took so long; the fuzz wouldn't let me into Curly's place until they cleared with Mo-Cap-e-tan," Huggy pursed his lips.

Hutch put his hand up and gestured 'I forgot,' He was exasperated. "Thanks, Hug. I'm sorry it slipped my mind." He sighed and shook his head in disbelief.

Huggy touched Hutch's arm, his eyes wide. "So, it's true little bro's dead?"

Hutch took the bag and bowed his head, his jaw twitched. "Yeah, he got in too deep this time, Hug. He was hell-bent on making a name for himself. Dobey's exact words." Hutch's anger rippled as he tried to contain himself.

"Where's your sidekick?" Huggy looked around.

Hutch played with the bag in his hands. "He's in the men's room. I'm worried Hug! No…I'm scared. You name it I'm feeling it." His eyes met the thin black man; they displayed pools of sorrow and worry.

Huggy nodded, sighed and pulled Hutch closer and whispered. "Word is Casper Sohar has employed a gunman by the name of Lion who's connected to a cat on the East Coast. Anita said Little Bro was sippin beers with an Asian dude, aka Lion yesterday. He told her he was gonna' surprise big brother and to keep it under wraps." Huggy looked at Hutch; his brown eyes glued. "This is deep Blondie; Antelope Andy mentioned some city slicker name Zancko was asking questions 'bout the brothers." Huggy paused, Hutch looked at him, concern grew over the already burdened features.

"Keep yourself safe, Hug!" The words were sincere and laced with uneasiness.

"I'm cool. If you two need a place to hide." He winked at Hutch.

Hutch grasped Huggy's shoulder and nodded. A distant noise caught his attention and he looked toward the men's room. Babcock had exited the bathroom and made a beeline for Hutch; he supported a dreaded look on his face. "Hutch! Hey Huggy!" He nodded and glared back toward the men's room. He appeared riddled with anxiety. "You need to get in there, Hutch!" He cleared his throat. "Starsky's...oh man, you need to get in there!" He licked his lips and rubbed his chin.

Hutch glanced at Huggy then walked away quickly and entered the men's room. He saw his partner washing his hand vigorously, the bandage from his splinter was in the sink, and his hands looked red and raw. His focus was on his hands. He continued to wash compulsively. Hutch placed the bag on the bathroom vanity. "Hey, hey…you're hurting yourself. Stop! Starsky, will you stop it?" The blond turned the faucet off as he looked at the rash of redness on his partner's hands.

Starsky continued the intense cleanse. "It won't come off, turn the faucet back on will ya? TURN IT BACK ON!" His voice cried out loudly.

Hutch placed his hands on his partner's shoulders. Carefully, he turned his partner to face him and looked at him with compassion and concern. The blond's head slightly bowed forward to make eye contact with his irrational partner. "They're clean Starsk, look at me! They're clean." He raised his eyebrows; his voice remained calm. Hutch held the gaze; his eyes showed grave concern for his friend and pleaded with him.

Starsky looked back at him, he appeared lost and confused, but most of all sad. "It's all over my skin. It won't come off…the murders of those cops, Pop, Terry, all of them Hutch, their blood. It's my fault. I killed Nicky." His eyes filled with moisture, his body trembled.

Hutch kept his gaze as his heart sank. "Buddy, it's not your fault." The tone subdued and reserved only for his partner.

Starsky's chin quivered as he tightened his jaw, he reached up and touched Hutch's chest. He placed his left hand over the blond's heart. "How long before I get you killed, Hutch? I couldn't handle that…your blood would be on my hands. I failed my kid brother. Nicky's dead and his blood is on my hands." Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hand that covered Hutch's heart.

"You've done nothing wrong Gordo; I'm not going anywhere. Hey, look at me, Starsk! Look at me…you're scaring me, babe. YOU ARE NOT TO BLAME!" He looked at the brunet, his voice held reassurance and comforted.

Starsky looked into Hutch's eyes and back to his hand. "Friends don't make promises." He gazed at his hands again as the bathroom door opened.

Simmons and Huggy walked in and stopped abruptly. "Dobey's looking for you, Hutch. Everything okay?" Simmon's voice dangled uncertainty.

Hutch had not removed his eyes from his partner and spoke very calmly. "Yeah, we'll be done in a few minutes."

Simmons noticed Hutch quickly made eye contact with him via the mirror. He saw the fear in Hutch's eyes and nodded.

Huggy caught the glance and whispered. "Curly's not in a good place. Hutch knows what to do." He placed his hand on Simmons' arm and escorted him out quietly.

Hutch kept a firm grip on his partner's shoulders. He took a deep breath and softly spoke. "Starsk, let's get you changed, okay?" He moved his fingers, comfortingly and gently.

Starsky chuckled and backed away from his partner's grip. "Whatta ya say we get a beer and plan our weekend?" He shrugged his shoulders and looked at his watch and back at Hutch. "We can pack an overnight bag and stay up on the coast, come on Blondie? I'll drive!" Like a light switch, the brunet changed in appearance. He acted as though nothing had happened.

Hutch looked at him with his hand extended out. The blond took a deep breath to calm. "Starsk?" Shocked, he questioned his partner's stability.

Starsky smiled and moved his hands in a playful boxing gesture toward his partner. "Let's go, Blondie! Why so glum? Let's go!" The brunet's jabs were playful toward the shocked tall form before him.

Hutch stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders again. "STARSKY, STOP! STOP! You're scaring me! Nicky's gone, do you hear me? Nicky is…gone, Buddy!" His eyes displayed empathy. His voice expressed compassion and softness, but he was desperate he needed to get through to his partner.

Starsky looked at the unraveled blue eyes and put his left hand and touched Hutch's face. "You okay, Hutch? Ya look upset. What's wrong?" His expression displayed concern.

Tears threatened to fall. The Nordic man felt he was on the brink of witnessing his partner's sanity completely unravel. He had to get through to him. "Starsky, Nicky is dead!" Hutch's chin quivered, he searched for his partner's acknowledgment. "Nicky is dead!" Hutch's face wore strain and desperation.

Starsky looked at Hutch in disbelief. Balling his hands into fists he looked at them then over to the mirror and saw the blood on the front of his shirt. Tears began to flow. "Nicky's gone?" Starsky looked back to Hutch, his eyes red and filled with tears. His bottom lip quivered and chin wrinkled. The usually confident shoulders slumped forward.

Hutch pulled his friend to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Starsky silently cried and whispered over and over. "He's gone."

"I'm here, buddy, I'm here! It's going to be alright, you hear me? You're gonna be alright." Hutch held on tight as he too released tears.

Chapter 12

Starsky was taken to a private office and spoke to a department psychologist. Hutch paced the hallway. Simmons approached with a coffee in hand and extended it to him. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Starsky comes from street stock; he's resilient. Mum's the word."

Hutch took the coffee, sighed. "Thanks." Hutch leaned against the wall and tilted his head back. "What have you heard from Internal Affairs?" Hutch was extremely uncomfortable as he asked the question.

Simmons chuckled, looked into his coffee cup. "Simonetti is foaming at the mouth to get his teeth into all of this; Chief stepped in. That worm rarely misses an opportunity to put the screws to you and your partner. We need to get you and Starsky somewhere safe until we locate the Asian guy, Lion. All out mob war my blond compadre'." The man looked around, smiled smugly.

Hutch blinked several times, sighed. "Thanks for backing us!" The appreciation radiated from his eyes.

"Between you and me, Hutch, I love making Simmonetti squirm." Simmons winked and nudged Hutch in the gut gently. Laughter escaped as he walked away.

The office door opened and a petite woman exited and smiled at Hutch. She extended her hand and touched his arm. "He's just fine, Ken; the initial shock has worn off. It's amazing what love and a solid friendship can do. You got through to him. Don't worry; I'll cleared him with Captain Dobey." She winked at Hutch and walked away.

Starsky exited the office; he wore a clean shirt and seemed more himself. He watched the woman walk away, fumbled with his fingers before he looked at Hutch. "Sorry…didn't mean to snap on ya!" He lightly touched Hutch on the arm. Hutch returned the light gestured touch with acceptance and support.

They walked side by side back to the office; Starsky went to the coffee maker and poured a cup. He sipped it and went to his desk and pulled the chair and straddled it. Everyone continued to work, but glanced at him occasionally. Hutch's phone rang as he sat down. He reached for it, "Hutchinson," his expression changed. He motioned for Starsky to pick up on the extension.

Starsky picked up the handset and listened.

"Go ahead Hug; we're both on." The blond spoke and looked over at his partner.

Huggy stood in a phone booth and looked around frantically. The streets were quiet and dark. "Sohar and Zancko are here and at my place. They are looking for Starsky. Diane overheard the name Durniack."

Hutch looked at his partner and moved the handset to his other ear before he spoke. "Simmons wasn't kidding about an all out mob war. Where are you, Hug?"

Huggy looked at the street sign. "I'm a few blocks from the Pits, not safe for me to call ya from there." His voice held tension as he looked around nervously.

Starsky nodded and ran his right hand through his hair. "Hug, did you get a good look at these two guys?" He waited anxiously for the response to his question.

Huggy rubbed his forehead. "Yeah! Starsky, sorry 'bout little bro. A tall dude with pleated pressed pants, and the other chunky greasy suit with a huge stash. Stingy Stan, for a ten spot claims he heard there was a meeting tomorrow night at doc 54 Ten-ish. I smell a setup. Stingy was too willin' to talk if ya know what I mean?" Huggy's face cringed.

Hutch rubbed his face, sighed and spoke into the handset. "This could be a setup. Put the ten spot on my tab. Hug, lay low. Call dispatch or Dobey if you need us." Hutch looked at his partner and raised his eyebrows.

"Hutch is right, Hug, don't take any chances and thanks." The words were laced with concern.

Huggy bowed his head. "Hang in there, Curly." They simultaneously hung up the phones.

Hutch looked at Starsky with an intense gaze. "They don't want you to testify against Sloan and are on a mission to stop you, Buddy. What does Durniack have to do with this?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

Starsky nodded and tightened his jaw. His gaze met his worried, blond partner. "Joey's long gone, but Ma and I remain protected. A promise made to Pop. He has a son Jay Jay Durniack." Starsky rubbed his forehead and looked at Hutch. "Time, we put Sohor and Zancko out of business before Durniack gets involved." New York street vengeance ignited through his words.

Hutch looked at his partner slightly taken back by the tone. "Starsky you can't do this, we can't, partner. You are the prime target, you just lost your…"

Starsky shrugged his shoulder.

"No, but we can Hutch!" a voice called out from behind the blond.

Starsky glanced past Hutch. Hutch turned to see a room of detectives that stood alongside Simmons and Babcock. "We can do this, Hutch." Babcock smiled and crossed his arms with confidence.

A champion smile formed on Hutch's face. "What are we waiting for?" He looked at Starsky and smiled.

The precinct went on full alert. Everyone worked to finalize the details and reviewed maps. Captain Dobey coordinated with Simmons and Babcock. The bulletin board displayed a map with pins placed to determine the warehouse location. Starsky watched and listened, on occasion drifting off in thought. He was brought back by a nudge or smile from his partner. It was late when everyone decided to call it a night.

The Captain tossed a set of keys over to Hutch. "Blue LTD, hotel directions and Edith packed dinner and snacks."

Hutch smiled and looked over at his partner who was miles away in thought. "Thanks, Captain!"

Chapter 13

Hutch pulled the blue LTD into a quaint beach themed hotel off the beaten path; he left his partner, who gazed out the window, to check-in. Hutch returned with a key and parked the car a few spaces down from their room. Starsky exited robotically and retrieved the paper bags from the back seat. Both men glanced around; Hutch unlocked the door and flipped the light switch to expose a beach cottage decor. The room housed two queen-size beds and ocean-like patterned wall paper, a small refrigerator, mini stove, and coffee maker.

Hutch checked the bathroom and closet then grabbed one of the bags and loaded the fridge. "Edith sent us coffee, tapioca pudding, and meatloaf, mash potatoes with peas." Hutch smiled as he unpacked, he noticed Starsky sitting on the bed lost in thought. He turned. "Even a six pack." He held the six pack up for display.

Starsky looked up at him. "Huh?" With the look of 'lost,' he grinned when he saw the beer. Starsky reached for the other bag that contained a change of clothes for both of them. "Our clothes?" He slowly unpacked each item. Hutch sat on the bed across from him and smiled.

"What would we do without Huggy?" Starsky spoke softly with admiration and a partial glimmer of a smile appeared.

Hutch prepared for a shower and glanced over at his partner. The darkness beneath his eyes apparent and distinct. He looked tired, sad and drained.

When Hutch exited the bathroom, he found his plate of food heated and left on the bed for him along with an opened beer.

Starsky had managed to eat a few bites and covered his food. "Best I've tasted, wish I was hungry."

Hutch tossed the towel, pulled his T-shirt down over his head, sat on the bed and retrieved his plate. "Thanks, Buddy, smells good." He started to eat and enjoyed every bite. He glanced over at his partner who sat at an angle watching TV or appeared to be.

"I don't suppose I could convince ya in lettin' me do this on my own?" Starsky's voice was calm.

Hutch chewed his food, stopped and looked at the floor then over to his partner. "You're either putting me on, or you don't want me for a friend or partner anymore. Are you as crazy as you look?" A twinge of seriousness followed the warm humor.

Starsky's sad eyes met steely defiance as the corner of his mouth raised slightly. "Crazier…think I proved that earlier when I became unhinged."

Hutch looked at him and smiled. "Start talking like that I'll haul your butt in and read you your rights, Gordo!" He winked. Hutch felt some sense of relief that his partner attempted humor.

Starsky stood and turned the TV off and returned to the bed and pulled the blankets down. He eased himself in as Hutch finished his food and discarded the tin plate. He placed Starsky's plate back in the refrigerator, took a few sips of his beer and turned the lamp off.

Chapter 14

Starsky had fallen asleep. He tossed and turned. He dreamed he was back in the Bay City PD parking garage during the earlier events of Nicky's death. The dream played in slow motion, step by step. Nicky's face appeared then he saw Hutch lying on the pavement. Starsky jumped up and screamed. "H-U-T-C-H!" His face covered with sweat; he was trembling. His breathing was labored.

Hutch rolled out of bed and sat on the edge of his partner's bed. He tried to focus. "Hey, I'm right here, Starsk." Hutch softly spoke and gently rubbed his unsteady partner's back.

Starsky finally realized it was a dream and took a deep breath. "M-sorry." He placed his hands on his face and rubbed vigorously.

Hutch stood and went to the bathroom, and then returned with a wet cloth and handed it to his partner.

Starsky took it and wiped his face and neck, bowed his head as he played with the cloth. "I don't know if I can do this anymore." He looked up and met Hutch's eyes.

Hutch sat on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Life, being a cop, or being my partner?" The words came out playfully.

Starsky looked at him again and arched his eyebrows playfully. "What if I said all of the above?" He tossed the towel at Hutch. "What…what if…the dream it was so real."

Hutch played with the towel and looked over at his partner and sighed. "Partner, no 'what if.' We don't do 'what if'. If we start thinking this way we'll definitely sign a death warrant." The blond's blue eyes were warm and encouraging. "Let's live life each day to the fullest like we've always done. I've never doubted you, not going to start now. Get some sleep, Buddy. We got some bad guys to get." Hutch ruffled his partner's hair gently.

Starsky grinned. "No regrets. One day at a time…me and thee." He wiped his face. "Sounds like a soap opera in the making."

Chapter 15

The morning came and the day went by with continued preparation for the showdown at the docks. Starsky stood inside of a van parked a short distance from the warehouse. He methodically buttoned his shirt over a bulletproof vest. Hutch had done the same and adjusted his collar. He glanced at Captain Dobey sitting on a bench near the control center of the van. "I want everything by the book, nothing cute you hear me?" Captain Dobey's voice barked.

Starsky continued to dress, his shoulders tensed.

"Do you hear me, Starsky?" The question left the Captain's lips sternly.

Starsky stopped and glanced at Hutch and his Captain. "I heard ya." His tone was sharp and direct.

Hutch kept his eyes fixed on his partner. "You ready, partner?"

Starsky lowered his eyes and looked back again. "Yeah," he responded with a softer tone.

The radio echoed in the van. "Tac Two for Captain Dobey!"

Captain Dobey reached for the hand microphone. "Dobey here." He answered with annoyance.

Dispatched responded. "We have a man called Huggy, claims it is urgent." All three glanced at each other. "Roger, put him through. Dobey here." He waited.

Huggy's voice came through. "Starsky this is Huggy. Listen, rumor is there's been a change in plans. I need to see you. Meet me at The Pits. This is between you and me, you dig?"

Starsky put his hand out to take the radio microphone; the Captain extended it to him. "Hug, are you in trouble?"

Huggy's voice sounded strained. "Yeah man, I sure am. Have I ever steered you wrong?" The response allowed for a brave performance.

Starsky's face expressed the stress and anger. "Are they still meeting here?" his question was laced with anticipation.

Huggy chuckled. "You got it m-man." Only to Starsky was the fear noticeable.

Starsky's hand made a fist at his side. "Is it Lion?" The question hung from Starsky's lips.

Huggy hesitated. "You got it, get yourself over here, now. Be seein' you!" The connection was disconnected.

"What the hell do we do now?" Hutch snapped and looked at his partner.

The Captain rubbed his face. He looked at both men. "If you go there you're sitting ducks." Dobey's voice barked.

Starsky looked at the Captain. "If we don't, we lose Huggy. I'm not gonna have another death on my conscience. We have one hour before the showdown." He raised his hands to his face and rubbed his chin roughly.

The Captain reached into his pocket and threw his keys at Starsky. "Take my car; I'll have backup in route." Captain Dobey scratched the side of his face.

Starsky grabbed his jacket and ran to the exit with Hutch behind him.

Chapter 16

The bar was busy with patrons. Everyone tended to their duties. Huggy glanced around the room. Three men watched the entrance. A tall black man stood near the bar, another slightly shorter blond with a muscular build by the pool table leaned against the support post. Lion sat in a booth with a clear view of the door. The door opened with Hutch in disguise. He wore a baseball cap and checkered hunter's jacket; he glanced around and made his way to the bar. "Give me a beer." Hutch smiled, hoping the waitress, Anita, would not blow his cover.

Anita opened her mouth to speak, Huggy interjected. "You got it m-man. Anita, I'm out of pretzels and peanuts!" He winked.

Starsky entered from the back door quietly with his gun in hand and encountered Anita. He reached around and covered her mouth from behind. "Shh, it's me don't scream. Go in the ladies room and stay there until I tell ya to come out." He whispered in her ear, she turned to him and nodded and ran into the ladies room behind him.

Starsky crawled his way down the hall and slipped behind the bar with Huggy. Huggy bent over to grab peanuts stored in a container. "Post by the pool table, end of the bar. The Lion is in the corner booth with a view of the door." He stood back up and placed the bowl of peanuts in front of Hutch.

He signaled directing with his eyes to Hutch just what he told Starsky. Hutch sipped his beer and glanced casually, nodded to a few of the patrons.

Starsky tossed a glass toward the kitchen entrance where the man stood near the bar. The man heard the noise and went over to look; Starsky followed and knocked him over the head with his gun. The man fell to the floor. Starsky crawled back and nodded to Hutch who stood from the stool with a beer in hand then walked over to the pool table. He tripped over the chair and fell against the man near the post. The man shoved Hutch. The tall blond fought to regain his balance. "Hey, easy, easy man, I tripped. Just an accident." Hutch smiled, raised his hands then pushed the man and dropped his beer. Starsky jumped over the bar, gun extended toward Lion. Hutch pulled his weapon and placed it on the man's chest in front of him. "Police, don't move!" His eyes displayed 'no-nonsense.'

Huggy ducked as gunfire came toward the bar and struck one of the stools. Several of the patrons fell to the floor. Starsky's eyes were dark and determined as he pulled the trigger and hit his target. Lion dropped his weapon and grabbed his upper arm.

Hutch pulled the gun from the man's waist and spun him around to handcuff him. The man from the back emerged dazed with his weapon in hand. Hutch caught a glimpse. "Starsky, behind you!" His voice carried loudly over the yelling and screaming. Hutch pulled his gun and aimed it at the man who fired a shot at his partner. The blond fired and hit his target in the chest. The man fell onto the bar then to the floor. Starsky had dropped and rolled and was back up onto his feet with his gun directed at the fallen gunman.

Hutch stood there as he tried to gain his composure. He almost lost his partner, flashbacks of the past danced in his head.

Starsky motioned everyone to leave, as he kept his gun in front of him. He approached Lion who held his arm that was bleeding heavily. The few patrons that remained ran out of the bar.

The man looked at Starsky as he licked his lips. "Your brother neglected to mention your versatility and that you're a true marksman." He winced in pain from laughing.

Starsky kept his gun pointed at him. "You killed my brother." His eyes were wild and dangerous, the tone of his voice imbued anger. His face covered in sweat.

The man looked into his eyes as his smile went away and stared at the gun pointed at him. "He had no gut, a stupid squid. You killed him; you failed him." The man winced, but kept his eyes focused.

Huggy walked up behind Starsky, his usual swagger not present; there was fear in his eyes. "He's baiting you Curly, let it go." His voice was streetwise but tender.

Hutch made his way over to his partner's side. "Starsk, he's right." The blond took in an anxious breath.

Starsky cocked the gun. The brunet presented a gaze that unnerved Lion. Lion squirmed with discomfort. "Come on you want to do it, those cops, your brother all because you didn't wipe that little moron's nose." His face twitched in fear; the perspiration rolled down his face.

Hutch turned to look at his partner, who displayed rage. The traditional indigo blue eyes were black spheres. Hutch gently placed his right hand on Starsky's chest lightly and pressed. Starsky's eyes regained their standard blue color, he sighed and released the hammer on the gun and dropped his arm. "di vit minh!" The man's face twisted in shock.

Hutch raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. "What did you tell him?" Hutch tilted his head inquisitively.

"Go screw yourself!" Starsky gritted his teeth together.

Huggy and Hutch laughed as police officers entered. Starsky grabbed Hutch by the arm. "We gotta get to the warehouse. Thanks, Hug!" His tone expressed urgency.

Huggy crossed his arms and watched the chaos of police in his bar.

Chapter 17

At the warehouse Simmons and Babcock sat in their car. They watched several black limousines pull in. The outside lights in the warehouse were dull. Simmons pulled a hand held radio from his jacket.

"Zebra 5 to control." He waited for a response.

Captain Dobey grabbed the microphone from inside the van. "Go ahead, Zebra 5."

Simmons watched as several men exited the cars. "The dwarfs have arrived."

Dobey looked at his watch when the door opened to the van and Starsky and Hutch entered. "Roger, Zebra 5. Hansel and Gretel have returned," he calmly and confidently responded.

Simmons and Babcock chuckled as they glanced at each other. "Roger, we are at post 4." Simmons refocused at the new arrivals.

Dobey looked at Hutch. "They've arrived."

Hutch checked his gun. Starsky put a new clip into his and took a deep breath. He looked at Hutch. "Showtime!"

Hutch gently grabbed his partner's arm, their eyes met and a silent conversation took place. 'We do this together, got it? Be careful!'

Starsky returned the gentle touch then looked over at his Captain. "Time to put an end to this." The words cut through the silence catching his Captain's attention. They headed out of the van and ran side by side along the buildings. They reached the back of the warehouse. Hutch pulled a hand held radio from his jacket as he took a few deep breaths. "Zebra 3 at the back door." He nodded to his partner to the right.

Simmons and Babcock sprinted across the lot quickly. They arrived at the right side of the building to see Starsky and waved. Babcock went to Starsky and gently touched his arm and looked over at Hutch. Simmons gave Starsky a boost to climb the fire escape. Starsky quick-stepped up the metal stairway to a door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He jumped the next level and looked into the window to see five men; he looked down to Hutch to signal how many. He pried the window and climbed in. Hutch went to the opposite side to find a broken window; he reached in and toggled the latch open. He and Babcock jumped in.

Simmons went to the front and eased his way through a side door. Inside the five men stood in the middle of the warehouse. Zancko, the shorter stocky man with the slicked back black hair puffed his cigarette as he checked his watch. "What's holding Lion up?" He adjusted his jacket.

The other man Sohar, who was a taller, strawberry blond with a mustache, looked at the gunmen around him. "He'll be here, don't worry." He scoped the span of the large warehouse.

The guards paced around nervously as Zancko coughed.

"Really should stop smoking, you brought the snow didn't you Z?" Sohar amused himself with the comment. One of the guards placed a suitcase on the floor in front of him, he smiled.

Zancko laughed. "Ask and you shall receive. Sloan says there's a lot more once he's sprung. Well, that's if Lion has wasted that cop." The stout man snickered with a despicable tone, which exhibited unease.

Starsky climbed down off the window onto a catwalk and down a set of stairs. He crouched down just above the men talking. He looked around to see if he could see his partner and noticed him to the left behind some crates, he signaled. Simmons crouched behind a stack of barrels and signaled Starsky he was in position as well. Babcock shimmied himself a few containers down from Hutch and nodded, indicating he was in place.

The guards paced anxiously. Starsky looked around to find stairs or a ladder he could climb down. He noticed a pulley rigging. The bay door opened as all the men turned their attention to three men that entered. Two were body guards. The other was Jay Jay Durniack, a huge man that wore a smoky gray suit and fancy gentlemen's hat that matched.

Starsky looked down and his eyes widened. The presence of Jay Jay Durniack meant a promise kept to the Starsky family by Joey Durniack and an all out mob blood war. "Durniack, shit!" Starsky mumbled and signaled to Hutch who whispered to Babcock.

"We got trouble; Durniack." Hutch whispered into the handheld radio. "Zebra 3 to control, we have five dwarfs and the wolf, hold your position. I repeat, hold your position!" He looked back up at his partner.

Sohar opened his arms to form a poorly executed 'welcoming gesture.' "Jay Jay, aren't you out of your element?" He chuckled nervously; his eyes twitched.

Durniack signaled his men who raised their guns as he smiled. "You stepped on some toes, Casper; you knew Nicky and his brother were Switzerland." He put his hands together and cracked his knuckles.

Zancko watched nervously. He stepped back. "That cop skunked Sloan. We got to do what we got to do, Jay Jay." The stocky man added conviction to his statement as he formed a half smile and glanced over at Sohar.

Starsky watched and knew he had to do something before Durniack followed through his father's promise to protect him. The brunet stood, allowed Jay Jay to see him. He put his hand up and waved it across his throat to signal stop. Jay Jay saw Starsky and looked back down at the men. "Where's Davey Starsky now?" Jay Jay smirked.

Sohar smiled, glanced at Zancko. "He's being detained downtown by Lion." He brushed away a strand of hair from his eyes nervously. Electricity flowed in his veins; he knew David Starsky was already dead. "Business is business, Jay Jay. Nicky became a problem in our production." He wiped his hand covered with hair grease on his jacket.

Durniak laughed as he looked back and forth between Zancko and Sohar. "I'm betting ten grand on the problem to continue. Gentlemen, I'll be seeing ya." Jay Jay chuckled and snorted. The two guards moved aside to let Jay Jay pass then followed.

Zancko started to pace. "What the hell does that mean? What the hell, Casper? Something's wrong here." His hands twitched at his side.

The guards moved around as Sohar checked his watch. "Where the hell is Lion?" He pointed to one of the guards. "Jasper, go out and see if there's any sign of him." Sohar rubbed his lips together nervously.

Zancko handed Sohar an envelope and motioned his men to leave. "Something stinks, I'm out of here." He rubbed his neck aggressively. Sohar's men raised their guns on him.

"Police! Put your weapons down, NOW!" Starsky shouted and signaled Hutch as he pulled his gun.

The guards raised their weapons and opened fire as Starsky leaped and hung onto the pulley and slid down. Hutch raised his magnum and shot one of the guards to the right of Sohar. Simmons fired his gun and struck the second guard on the opposite side of Sohar. A third guard pointed his weapon toward Starsky. Babcock, without hesitation fired his gun, but missed the trigger happy gunman. "Starsky, behind you!" The frazzled dark-haired detective turned then discharged his weapon hitting the intended target. Starsky dodged another bullet that came from a fourth guard. He jumped from the pulley rigging and landed in a squatted position, aimed his beretta then fired two shots that struck the fourth man. The fourth man dropped his weapon and collapsed on the warehouse floor. Babcock pointed his gun toward the fifth guard who dropped his pistol and surrendered.

Hutch bolted from behind the crate, gun extended and aimed at Sohar and Zancko. Simmons followed suit as both men raised their hands.

Starsky walked toward the two men. His eyes fixed, and jaw tense with gun extended. "Lion sends his apologies; he couldn't be here. Tell Sloan Mr. Giovanni sends his regards." Starsky's expression was stern, almost cold and calculating.

Hutch walked over to his partner's side. He could see the pent up rage that emanated from his eyes. "It's over, partner!" His tone held a sense of release, but his features still carried worry for his dark-haired partner.

Simmons placed handcuffs on Sohar who locked his gaze on Starsky, "My sympathy for your loss. Cute kid, but no chutzpah!" His lip slightly curled from the intentional dig.

Hutch's face tensed as he glared over. "Can it, Sohar!"

Babcock hauled Zancko off as police swarmed the area. Simmons grabbed Sohar and walked away with him.

Starsky placed his gun in his holster and bowed his head; Hutch touched his arm, and gently applied pressure with his hand. Starsky took a deep breath and nodded. "M-okay. Thanks, Hutch."

Chapter 18

Starsky flew out with his brother's body and assisted his mother with the funeral. The services were delivered in Jewish tradition. Hutch accompanied his partner and stood by him. Starsky remained strong and silent and followed his mother's wishes in regards to Nicky. Hutch worried because his partner exhibited a tower of strength for his mother, comforted her but displayed no emotions. They returned to Bay City. Starsky had requested additional time off. A week had passed and no word from Starsky. Hutch attempted to call, but his partner didn't answer.

Hutch drove to Starsky's place and noticed a new door hung in place. The Torino sat with a new fresh coat of wax. Hutch smiled as he exited his car and headed up the stairway. He knocked and opened the door. Starsky sat in his peacock chair; legs extended out with a beer in his hand.

Hutch stepped in and closed the door. "Hey, the door looks great." The voice matched the blond's curiosity as he examined it.

Starsky displayed a lopsided smile. "Uncle Al got it at a salvage place, a little elbow grease." His smile went away. He avoided his partner's eyes.

Hutch went to the refrigerator and pulled a beer, popped the cap. "Dobey's wondering when you're returning to work. He's worried, and the truth is, so am I." Hutch bowed his head and played with the label on the bottle; he glanced at his partner briefly.

Starsky stood and went to the kitchen table and sat. Hutch joined him. Hutch placed his beer on the table near his partner's.

"I needed time to think. Between Sloan, Sohar, and Zancko, we just shut down over two point two million dollars of their operation. I guess what we do does make a difference." He glanced to see his partner's expression. Starsky nodded and played with the label on the half-empty beer bottle on the table in front of him. He stood and walked to the bedroom and came back with a small black box in his hand. He sat down and held it in his hands and extended it to Hutch.

Hutch took it with a surprised expression. "What's this?" He looked up at Starsky.

Starsky rubbed his chin and smiled. "Open it!" He smiled and looked away.

Hutch opened the box gently to reveal a silver ring with a single diamond chip embedded in the band along with fancy scroll work. He looked at his partner in awe.

Starsky motioned him to take it out of the box. "There's an inscription inside the band." His eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Hutch gently removed the band and held it up to read. "To my pal, Hutch. Without Thee, there is no Me. Starsk." Hutch felt his heart skip a beat and emotions rose as he looked at his partner. "What, why?" His face beamed with excitement.

Starsky lowered his head, then looked back up. "It's Terry's ring and Pop's original wedding band. You are always there for me. Ya more than a friend and partner. Thanks for standin' by me, even when sometimes I don't deserve it. Ya loved Terry too, and Pop would have called ya a son. Ma does. She suggested I give it to you." Starsky lowered his head, slightly embarrassed.

Hutch's eyes sparkled with emotion and tears stung his eye lids. He placed the ring on his right hand, grinning ear to ear. "It's beautiful; I don't know what to say." He continued to stare at the ring. The long fingers touched the band as though it were fragile crystal where he'd slipped it on a finger on his right hand.

Starsky nodded and walked over toward the window and looked out.

Hutch put his hand to his face and wiped it. "Thanks, Starsk." His expression matched the words. Hutch sipped his beer and glanced over at his partner. "Nicky had his own agenda, Buddy; despite all his faults, one thing we know is that he loved you." He walked toward Starsky.

Starsky crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Yeah, Aunt Rosie once told me that you can plant a hundred seeds, but there's no guarantee that they will all sprout the same. You can water them, sun them…always a bad seed in the bunch. Nicky was going to do what he did, no matter what, even if I had stayed. He needed more attention, money and a name with status. Ma knew that. In either case, he's still my brother and I love him." He glanced at Hutch momentarily. "It's just gonna take me some time to get past this." He bowed his head and sniffed. The edge of a soapy scene was dismissed by clearing his throat. "Thanks for giving me some time to myself. I'm still a cop, and no I'm not waxing that heap of yours." He turned to Hutch, his eyes sparkled with moisture.

Hutch sniggered; he looked at the ring and frowned. "I have just one question, Starsk?" He glared at his partner with a sheepish grin. "Does this make us officially an item?" The blond hair glowed, as he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

Starsky looked at him very sternly and responded in his authentic Bogey impersonation. "Well, I was hopin' you'd see it that way, schweetheart!" He approached his partner, winked and fondly pinched Hutch's blushing cheek.

Hutch swatted his partner's hand way. "Sorry but you're not my type, darlin'!"

The End…well maybe not, I feel a sequel coming on.

Authors note: We all have someone we know or are related to that sometimes makes the wrong choices despite our guidance. A bad seed may just be someone who lacks in self-worth. Someone who's life has been tarnished by trauma. Possibly someone who is never satisfied with being average or settling for less. Perhaps you are or consider yourself the bad seed. Don't take offense; recognize it and know you are loved and you have choices.

The reason I wrote this is someone made a comment when I posted this months ago and I removed it from fan fiction. This person wrote "this story is stupid." I took the comment too personally. I put a lot of thought into this and recognized maybe I struck a nerve and it didn't really have to do with the story as much as the subject of the story. We all strive for perfection, admiration, sometimes just plain old attention. Some of us have difficulty filling that void. As they say, the grass is always greener on the other side, or is it?

Thank you all for reading my stories. I do appreciate you all.

Beta Read by: MaryEllen Long, Sandy Hogan, along with Caroline Gilpin. Thank you so very much!

Below is my original version. The word 'smirk' was a problem according to some of my readers. I take this as a learning experience. Thank you for all your continued support.

STARSKY & HUTCH

By: Startisparticus2017

Characters: Dave Starsky, Ken Hutchinson, Captain Dobey, Huggy Bear, Nick Starsky, Sloan, Sohar, Zancko, Durniack, Mrs. Starsky aka Ma, Simmons and Babcock, Lion

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or make profit from these stories. January 2017, March 2018, revised June 2020.

Bad Seed

Chapter 1

Starsky stood in the middle of a warehouse parking lot, surrounded by wooden pallets, and metal barrels. He wore a flashy gold necklace and expensive blue satin shirt, and black fitted slacks with fancy black boots. He held a brown leather briefcase in his right hand and checked his watch on the left. He lowered his head and whispered, "They're late; do these pants make my butt look big? Oh, huh and I gotta pee, drain the main vein, purge little Davey!" He wiggled slightly and tugged at his belt.

Hutch was hidden in a van a short distance away disguised as a telephone repair truck and listened to his partner. The van also contained a technician, and their Captain. Hutch chuckled; the Captain was not amused and gave Hutch a look, 'he's your partner.'

Starsky sighed and began to hum 'I found my thrill on blueberry hill,' as all three men in the van looked at each other. "Ya didn't have to put so much tape on the wire, Hutch. It's pullin' my chest hair. Ouch." The blond suppressed his laughter as his Captain expressed vividly with a scowl he was not impressed. He continued to hum and stopped as a car approached the warehouse, he whispered. "Showtime, turkey!"

A brand-new black Lincoln continental approached slowly and came to a stop. Two tall and broad-shouldered men emerged with guns in hand. Starsky lifted the briefcase that hung from his right hand and extended his arms outward to each side to indicate he was unarmed. The man with a gray suit coat and bike-handle mustache walked over. He proceeded to pat Starsky down rather roughly.

"Easy there fella; don't toss the family jewels. I don't even know your first name." Starsky raised his eyebrows up and down playfully, then winked at him mischievously.

The man looked at Starsky; his face was a stone statue. He cleared his throat and spoke loudly. "He's clean, Mr. Sloan." He stiffened his shoulders and glanced in the direction of his boss.

The other man opened the car door. A medium built man very expensively dressed exited with a cigarette that hung from his full lips. Jet black hair laid back exposing his chiseled features and dark eyes. Adjusting his suit coat displaying multiple rings on his fingers, he slowly made his way toward Starsky. "Do you have the money, Mr. Giovanni?" The tone was sharp and all business as he looked at Starsky undercover as Mr. Giovanni.

"Yes, Mr. Sloan, in unmarked one hundred dollar bills." Starsky raised the briefcase slowly with his right arm. The dark-haired detective trailed his eyes inquisitively over each person.

Sloan motioned Starsky to come forward to the hood of the car. The gray suit coat bodyguard followed. Starsky carefully placed the briefcase on the hood. "I wouldn't wanna scratch your new ride." The other guard produced a black leather briefcase from the trunk of the car and put it beside Starsky's. The guard popped the latch; it made an odd clinking noise. The briefcase opened, and it contained several brown paper packages all neatly stacked. He took a switchblade knife from his pocket and sliced a small hole that produced white powder on the blade and handed it to Starsky who tasted it. "Real deal Mr. Sloan, 100% snow." Starsky smiled confidently.

Sloan looked at the two men as they stepped back. "The money, Mr. Giovanni!" The tone was far from friendly.

Starsky popped his brown leather briefcase open and exposed neatly stacked one hundred dollar bills. "As you requested Mr. Sloan, fifty thousand dollars." Starsky's tone glazed with reassurance, watched tentatively as the guards stepped forward. "Am I to assume we have completed our transaction?"

Sloan looked at the guards and back to Starsky, he grinned. "I'll tell you when the transaction is complete, now step back while I count the money." He dismissively motioned with his hand.

Starsky smirked and stepped back as requested. "Oh come on…don't ya trust me?" Starsky painted on a smile, looked over at the guard with the mustache. "Can ya believe him?"

The guard raised his gun in Starsky's direction as Sloan began to count the money. "Gino don't antagonize, Mr. Giovanni." Sloan sighed as Starsky played with his shirt sleeve and shrugged his shoulders. He began to hum 'I fought the law and the law won.'

Back in the van Hutch watch with binoculars in hand. He chuckled and mumbled to himself. "Mush brain."

Captain Dobey glared at Hutch, not amused. "What the hell is he trying to do, get himself killed, Hutchinson?"

Sloan closed the briefcase; his thumbs pressed the metal latch causing them to click as he nodded. "It's all there, Mr. Giovanni; I'm sure your employer will be satisfied with the purchase. What did you say his name was?" Sloan tapped his fingers on the briefcase and awaited a response.

Starsky pulled his sleeve and tilted his head then shrugged his shoulders. "Don't recall mentioning it!" The man watched Starsky and took the briefcase. The other guard closed the other case, then shoved roughly at Starsky.

Sloan stopped before he entered the car, he partially closed one eye. "A pleasure Mr. Giovanni." A mischievous twinkle beamed from his dark chocolate eyes as the words passed the partial grinning lips.

Starsky waved at him as he held the briefcase. The men retreated to the car. The curly-haired detective felt a sudden rush of uneasiness when the engine started, and the vehicle shifted into gear. Hutch called into the radio to move in when he saw the car pointed toward his partner. Starsky jumped and rolled onto a tall stack of pallets. The car rammed into them and he was ejected into a gathered group of barrels. The briefcase flew into the air and landed behind the stacked wooden material maze. The vehicle raced around in a circle with gunshots fired toward Starsky who was hidden behind the barrels.

The van raced around the corner as four other black and whites had arrived, blocking the car. It came to a screeching halt. The guards exited and fired their weapons. Hutch dove to the ground behind a barrel and fired. The bullet struck the guard with the mustache, and the other guard dropped his weapon. Starsky bolted from behind the barrel and searched for the briefcase. The uniformed officers swarmed around the car with guns extended and extracted the driver and Sloan.

Hutch placed his gun back in its holster and ran toward where his partner disappeared. Starsky found the briefcase and made his way through pallets and barrels.

"That was close, Gordo!" Hutch shook his head. What he just witnessed sickened him to the core.

Starsky smirked. "Saw it coming a mile away, Blondie. Did ya like my cat like moves?" Starsky swaggered with a bounce in his step over to Hutch and put his arm around his shoulder.

"They were smooth, Buddy. Let's get ya changed. You look like a pimp. Never thought I'd say it, but I like you better in your crummy blue jeans." Hutch smiled and glowed with excitement.

"A pimp…geez, I thought I looked pretty good." Starsky's smile disappeared from disappointment.

The Captain walked over to Sloan's car as officers combed through. "Captain you are not going to believe this, holy cow!" A young officer who didn't look old enough to be a cop, stood at the trunk of the car. He motioned the Captain over. Captain Dobey walked over and saw six more briefcases filled with money and cocaine.

"Starsky, Hutchinson!" He raised his head and motioned for his detective team to come over. The two walked over as they poked at each other, and laughed. They approached the car and saw its treasure. Starsky's eyes widened, his voice trailed with excitement. "Whoa…jackpot!"

"Shame we don't work on commission!" Hutch said this with a note of sarcasm.

The Captain smiled. "Good job gentlemen, I see a commendation in the very near future." Captain Dobey adjusted his tie as a rare wide smile formed.

Starsky shook his head, looked at both the Captain and Hutch. "I don't suppose we could get a little time off instead?" Starsky lightly nudged his partner as he requested.

The Captain glared at the curly half of the team which clearly displayed 'fat chance.' Starsky formed a half smile and pulled his chin up in an 'oh well' gesture.

Chapter 2

In the locker room at Bay City Police Department, Starsky pulled on his pale blue shirt. His fingers manipulate the buttons one at a time. He sat down and put his socks on. Hutch whistled in front of the mirror at his locker as he combed his hair, "That was one hell of a bust, Starsk." He finished putting the final touch on his hair as though he were an artist painting.

Starsky sat and smiled. "Yeah, it was, I'm beat and starvin'." Starsky rubbed his stomach. "I couldn't help but feel like Sloan knew something. Huh, maybe nothin'." The tired slumped shoulders appeared to shudder. "The guy gave me the creeps." A long-labored breath followed. "This undercover stuff must be gettin' to me."

Hutch buttoned his sleeves. "Well, I think it's getting to both of us, beside Starsky when aren't you hungry? What are you thinking?" He continued to dress.

Starsky played with his towel, and a huge grin came across his face. "How 'bout that new place on Fifth?" Starsky tilted his head, eyes full.

Hutch adjusted his shirt, as a frown formed. "Oh, come on, Starsk, I want food not leftovers from a garbage disposal. It amazes me you've survived this far on what you eat. It's a miracle in itself." Hutch combed his mustache, and waited for the sarcastic response from his partner that never came. "Did you hear me, Starsk?" Hutch turned to see his partner who appeared to be staring at his locker in a daze. "Starsk!"

Starsky startled and looked up at him as he approached. "Huh?" Starsky looked disconnected and exhausted.

"You okay?" Hutch looked at him; his expression displayed concern.

Starsky lifted his eyebrows. "Yeah, just had a creepy feelin', like somethin' bad is gonna happen. Nicky's been on my mind. Ma's been worried." He mumbled and his body shivered. "Just a long few weeks, think it's finally gettin' to me. I had to sleep with one eye open in that hell hole apartment while I was undercover." The brunet looked at his partner and grinned.

Hutch's gaze met his partner with concern. "Yah, I know. This undercover work is tough on you and me both, Pal." The trace of a partial smirk appeared, but it was weighted by trepidation.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful your eyes get when ya worry, Blintz?" Starsky winked. His tone was genuine.

Hutch shook his head. The turmoil within crushed the humor. "You've mentioned it a time or two. You sure you're okay?" The words trailed with concern. "That's the third time you've mentioned your brother in a week."

"I'm probably overreactin'. I'm hungry, Pastrami with mustard, no mayo, Blondie!" He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows to emphasize.

Chapter 3

Hutch returned from the cafeteria where he picked up a salad and a pastrami sandwich for his partner and brought it back to their desks. Starsky hummed something unknown as he placed the folders in the file cabinet. He moved his hips side to side and pretended he had a female partner; one arm pressed against his chest the other outward. The squad room and its occupants watched and laughed.

Hutch shook his head. "You know something Starsky, you keep that up they're going to arrest you for indecent exposure and assault. Besides, you're making a spectacle of yourself."

Starsky looked at Hutch as he pulled his shoulders back and pushed his chest out and displayed a dance pose. "Indecent to you, but the ladies love it." He winked.

Minnie walked through the doors as Starsky sashayed toward her with confidence. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her in a tango pose and dipped her. Minnie looked up at Hutch. "Nobody dips like Ramone, Darling." She playfully batted her eyes.

Starsky whisked her to an upright position. He gave her the Starsky full and flirtatious grin.

Her black-rimmed glasses sat slightly at the end of her nose, she adjusted them and winked at him. "Thanks, gorgeous! Do you have the Genard case file?" She adjusted her uniform.

Starsky pulled the manila file from his desk and handed it to her; he sat down to eat his sandwich.

"You know, Starsky, you're a good dancer. Maybe we should enter a dance contest?" Minnie placed her hand on her hip.

Hutch sat and looked at Minnie with expressed horror staining his face. "Oh come on Minnie, you can't be serious?"

She looked at Hutch and back at Starsky, annoyed by the blond partner's question. "Yes, I am Baby Blue, I've seen his moves. With practice, I think we could win." A vote of confidence in her tone.

The room of detectives broke out into laughter; Starsky's smile disappeared. He proceeded to chew his sandwich. The once energized chew displayed a lack of interest.

"You're all jealous; my money is on, Ramone." Minnie crossed her arms and winked at Starsky. "Don't mind them, doll; think about it." Folders in hand, Minnie walked away.

Hutch continued to laugh with his mouth full of salad.

"Anyone ever tell you, it's not polite to laugh with your mouth full, ya might choke?" Starsky's tone trickled with heavy annoyance. The brunet put his sandwich down. The odd, creepy, uneasy feeling consumed him along with exhaustion. He rubbed his hands with a napkin and noticed a sliver embedded in his thumb that looked infected. "Ouch, damn a sliver. Musta gotten it from them wooden crates." He stood and walked toward the door. "Be right back, need to get this thing out."

The room calmed from the earlier charades. Hutch noticed the half-eaten sandwich and continued with his salad. The sudden concern overcame him, he mumbled to himself. "Oh, stop it, Hutchinson; he hates it when you hover." He raised the fork and shoveled the salad into his mouth.

The partners had been only back to full active duty a few months. Starsky's recovery from three bullet holes ordered by James Gunther was long and slow due to complications. Although fit and cleared for duty, the energetic dark-haired detective pushed himself too hard. Hutch couldn't shake the occasional panic that consumed his core when it came to his partner's well-being.

Starsky returned a short time later with a Band-Aid that covered his thumb. He looked at his sandwich and decided he didn't want it after all. He discarded the sandwich and finished his paperwork.

Sometime later, Hutch finished typing and removed his paper from the typewriter. He glanced over at his partner who looked slightly flushed as he collated the paperwork. Hutch signed his form and handed it over to Starsky. "Sign it, and we are finished." He smiled as he extended the form.

Starsky took it and scribbled his signature, then placed it with his paperwork into a folder. "Ready to call it a night? Kinda glad ya drivin' tonight, Buddy Boy." He grabbed his jacket on the back of the chair and headed for the door.

Hutch retrieved his keys from the desk and watched his partner. The man was a walking miracle but different. The blond recalled a sense of hypervigilance in his partner. Starsky always had good gut instincts. The difference is he appeared to know or sense things before they happened. Huggy's theory was a friend of a friend who was a psychic claimed near death experiences sometimes awakens intuitive abilities. On the other hand, was Starsky over doing things and facing a burn out?

"Hey…You're doin' it again, Blondie. No, I am not over doing it. Are ya coming, Mom?" The shoulders drooped and his bounce more of a slow swagger.

Hutch watched and shook his head in amazement. He attempted to tame the beast called 'worry.' "You know something, Starsky…Mother's Day came and went. You never got me flowers." He smirked sheepishly as he followed.

Chapter 4

As Hutch drove, the weather intensified. The torrential downpour demanded he focus ahead. Starsky leaned his head onto the window and was fast asleep. Hutch came to a stop due to traffic and glanced over at his partner and noticed the bandaged thumb. The street lights cast spotted shadows upon the severely swollen thumb. The worried blond reached over and touched his partner's hand to examine. Since the attack at the PD ordered by James Gunther, Hutch had a tendency to get worked up or panic when it came to his partner's health.

Starsky startled and hollered. "Ahh! What are ya doin'? That hurts!" His face was fueled with anger.

The traffic began to move, and Hutch refocused and drove. "Your thumb is infected; maybe we should go and get it checked out, Starsk?" The request laced with empathy.

Starsky turned his head, his eyes wide. He was furious. "Would you quit it, Hutch?" The harsh tone caught Hutch off guard and ignited his anger.

"Quit what, Starsky? You know you can't risk infections." His loud voice filled the compartment. "Fine! Let it get infected! Gangrene will set in!" His tone stung the air and caught his dark-haired partner's attention.

Starsky sat up, his frustration soared and hands flailed. "You can't let me have one good bust without hovering over me like a mother goose. It's always Starsky this, Starsky that! Ya worry too much!" His voice strained and frustrated.

Hutch's shoulders tightened, and his jaw was rigid. "I wouldn't have to hover if you acted like an adult instead of a child, ya moron!" The response stung like a bee.

Starsky looked over at Hutch, both their eyes locked with fiery anger. "A child?" His voice was so loud, it was almost a shriek. His eyes were wild and his nostrils flared.

Hutch maneuvered the battered Ford to park in front of Starsky's place behind the Torino. The wind picked up and rain poured; he slammed the hand shifter on the steering column into park.

With the car stopping suddenly, Starsky lunged forward as the brake and park was engaged. "A child, is that what you think of me, Hutch? A child and a moron?" Starsky rubbed his face and looked at his partner.

Hutch looked ahead and then looked at his partner, his lips pressed together. "If the shoe fits, wear it, chump!" There was a distinct bite in the tone of voice.

Starsky glared at him; his eyes were wild and wide. "Excuse me, while I remove my childlike moronic self from this trash barrel ya call a car, Mr. Perfect!" Starsky reached for the door handle causing pain to his thumb. "Aww, damn! Just go." Starsky bolted out of the car. The rain immediately soaked him. He slammed the car door which opened back on him. He slammed it once again and walked up the stairs slower than his usual bouncy stride.

STARSKY…wait!" Hutch sat in his car with his head down, rubbed his forehead, and released a long overdue sigh. "What the hell just happened?"

Starsky immediately felt dizzy, a flash of his brother's face appeared before him as he climbed the steps. Drenched from the downpour of rain. He reached the top of the steps. He couldn't move. "Nicky?" He shook his head and the vision disappeared. The rain pelted against his face. "I must be tired or goin' bananas."

Hutch sat in the car, rubbed his face as frustration erupted. He pressed his lips together. "Dammit, damn you, Starsky!" The blond's large hand slammed the steering wheel several times; he took a deep breath. Hutch looked around as the wind increased. The visibility was poor and from the darkness of the surrounding homes, the power appeared to be out. "Huh, how's he going to unlock the door in the dark, stubborn mule?" He glanced out the passenger window.

Starsky had made it to the door, but couldn't see to unlock the it; he fumbled with the keys in the thickness of the night and storm. "Terrific, I can't see a damn thing. Damn you, Hutch!" The rain soaked him. He spoke to himself; his voice wasn't much above a whisper as he leaned his head against the door. "M-sorry, Hutch!"

Hutch put his wipers on high; the rain pelted the windshield so hard he couldn't see. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Starsk!" Hutch froze; concern and fear trailed down his spine like pinpricks. Turning the ignition off, he grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment. He exited the car abruptly and ran up the stairs. Starsky was leaning against the door. Hutch pulled his keys and nudged his partner out of the way, steadying the flashlight as the keys chimed. He opened the door, and both entered and closed the door.

Starsky searched for a lantern and candles and located them; he lit them. Once he had enough light, he went over and sat on the couch. He shivered.

Hutch stood next to the couch. He also had the chill; he rubbed his hands together. "That's one nasty storm!" Hutch immediately took the flashlight and went into the bathroom and reappeared with towels and two robes. "Come on; let's get out of these wet clothes!" He extended the towel and blue robe. They removed their wet clothes. Starsky wore the blue plush garment; Hutch quickly put on the white one. The distinct expression was one of worry as he approached the couch tying his robe. Hutch grabbed Starsky's hand and gently examined the thumb. "This is infected. I thought you got the sliver out?" His eyes focused.

Starsky looked at him, the anger no longer etched in his features. "There was more than one storm out there, and I thought I got them out." He eyes raised to meet his partners. "Didn't mean what I said. I'm just on edge…sorry, Hutch." The words romanced his New York accent.

Hutch removed the band-aid as he smiled. "Yeah, well you're a pain in the butt, but that's why I keep you around, Ollie." A genuine smile formed, as the soaked blond's head shook from side to side. "I…I'm sorry too."

Starsky reached and touched Hutch's arm, brushed it lightly. "Truth is that's why I keep ya around, Blintz. Ya know how to nurse me; you're a nag and pain in the butt." A deep sigh followed the words.

Hutch took Starsky's hand and looked at the thumb. It was discolored and swollen. "I need to tend to this thumb, Gordo." Hutch stood and went to the bathroom again and retrieved some first-aid supplies. He went to the kitchen and filled a larger pan with water from the faucet. The pipes hissed. He returned and held the pan over the lantern and heated the water.

The weather was worse; the wind whipped the branches against the building. The rain was steady and loud on the roof as Hutch heated the water over the lantern. He placed the pan on a towel on the coffee table and took Starsky's injured hand. He examined it in the light and used the tweezers to remove two more splinters. Hutch took some Epsom salt and poured it into the pan of water and submerged the hand into the hot water. Starsky winced but allowed it.

Hutch went to the refrigerator, pulled two beers, brought them back to the living room and sat on the coffee table. "Here you go, Buddy." He handed the bottle to Starsky.

Starsky drank it slowly, watching the flicker of the candle. "Thanks."

Hutch removed Starsky's hand from the pan, dried it and began to add ointment and bandaged it. He looked at his partner and smirked. "I don't mean to hover Starsk; it's just…huh." His eyes wandered away from embarrassment.

Starsky looked at him and gave him a half grin. "It's just that ya care. I know, thanks, Pal." The words were soft but meaningful.

Hutch could sense something; he gathered all the first-aid debris and delivered them to the trash in the kitchen. "What's eating at you, partner?" His tone held deep concern.

Starsky sat on the couch in deep thought; he scratched the side of his face. "Ya gonna think I'm weird." Starsky responded as he looked at the tall blond partner who approached him. Hutch sat on the coffee table in front as he rolled his eyes. Starsky chuckled, his features softened. His expression took on a veil of darkness. "I saw Nicky. Well not physically, it was like a flash. It's been happenin' a lot."

Hutch leaned his elbows on his knees and thought. "Like a premonition?" He raised his eyebrows.

Starsky shrugged his shoulders in response, frowned, and sighed. "Maybe, I don't get a good feelin', Hutch. Somethin' just doesn't feel right." He bit his bottom lip, then pressed his lips tightly together. Fear made its presence in his eyes.

Hutch sighed, turned his head slightly. "All kidding aside Gordo, that gut of yours has gotten us out of a lot of jams. This storm isn't letting up and were both exhausted, what do you say we get some sleep." He gave his partner a genuine smile.

Chapter 5

Hutch had retired to the couch after he located a pillow and blanket. Starsky changed into his PJ bottoms and T-shirt. He slept in his bed; a candle was left to burn in the living room and another in the bedroom.

The wind increased. A leaning branch slammed into the house along with a loud crash of thunder. Starsky bolted up out of bed and onto the floor in a defensive pose; his eyes were wide and dark. Hutch was startled and ejected from the couch. He remembered where he was and went toward the bedroom. Starsky dazed and confused put his hands out in front of him. Hutch stopped and softly spoke. "Starsk, it's me." He watched Starsky intently.

Starsky seemed to calm. "Hutch?" He caught his breath, calming himself.

Hutch relaxed and smiled. "Yeah, it's me mush brain." Hutch rubbed his stomach and yawned.

"Moron to mush brain!" Starsky blinked several times to adjust his vision and smiled. He looked at his thumb which looked and felt better. "Thumbs better. What happened?"

Hutch stretched, looked back toward the window. "Something hit the building and then there was thunder. I came in to check on you." He looked toward the bedroom window.

Starsky scratched his head. "I was havin' a nightmare; Nicky had a gun pointed at us." His face displayed confusion. "Good thing ya got my back, even when I'm a jackass." Starsky winked at him, stretched and yawned.

Hutch put his head down and sighed and started to laugh. "Yeah, well, I've been known to wear that badge too, Gordo!" They both laughed.

The storm had quietened down. Starsky made his way with a little guidance from his partner to the living room. Hutch lit the lantern then carried it over to the coffee table. Starsky sat on the arm of the couch. Hutch stood by the coffee table and stretched. The brunet reached for the candle near the half-empty beer on the coffee table. Something of a flicker and shadow caught his eye at the window. Starsky paused to refocus, his eyes widened. "H-U-T-C-H!" Immediately he lunged toward his partner and tackled him to the floor.

The sound of glass shattering, and a single gunshot echoed. Starsky landed on top of his partner and rolled off to the side; Hutch scrambled to get his gun from the heap of damp clothes on the floor. Starsky rolled and searched for his gun next to the coffee table and pulled it out of the holster.

Hutch reached for the lantern and blew it out. They both stayed low and watched the windows. Side by side, crawling on their stomachs they positioned themselves near the front door. Starsky was on the left and Hutch was on the right with their backs against the wall.

Starsky checked his gun, glanced over toward Hutch. "You okay?" He whispered.

Hutch checked his gun as well, acknowledged his partner's concerned tone. "Yeah, you?" The words were thick and breathy.

Starsky took a deep breath. "Yah, I'll be better when we find out what the hell this is all about."

The doorknob wiggled as both men glanced at each other, there were several blasts of gunfire. Both men crouched and covered their heads. The door opened and the barrel of a rifle appeared. Starsky jumped up and pushed the door knocking the weapon from the dark figure's hands.

Hutch positioned his gun in the direction of the shadowy figure. "I wouldn't move if I were you!" Hutch's eyes were wide and his tone dangerous.

Starsky pulled the door back and inched his gun in front of the figure. "Do as he says, punk!" His gun pointed with intension; eyes focused.

The figure elbowed Hutch and knocked him back, then kicked Starsky in the gut. The dark mysterious shadow then disappeared. Starsky fell to his knees. Hutch recovered and went out the door. The entity was long gone into the foggy darkness.

"Ohhhhhh, son-of-a-…!" Starsky gasped.

Hutch looked around and came back in to check on his partner who was trying to get to his feet. The blond extended his hand as he gasped for air. "What the hell was that?" The words were coming between breaths as he assisted his partner from the crouched position.

Starsky comforted his stomach with one hand. "The grim reaper channelin', Bruce Lee." Starsky closed his eyes tight and blurted the words out as he bent over and gasped.

Hutch assisted his partner to the couch and searched for the matches to light the lantern. He took a deep breath, and looked at his partner. "You okay?"

Starsky widened his eyes, acknowledged his partner's concern and question. "Just freakin' terrific!" He smirked to ease the concern.

Hutch grabbed the phone and dialed as he raised one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is Detective Hutchinson. Oh, hello, Mildred, yeah dispatch a crime lab and team to 2000 Ridgeway. Yes, that's Starsky's address. Oh, let Captain Dobey know, thank you." Hutch placed the handset back onto the cradle and moved the lantern and sat in front of Starsky who had recovered.

"So, who did we tick-off this time?" Starsky's raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"I could be wrong, but I think this has to do with Sloan's bust." Hutch responded with confidence as he rubbed his face and looked at Starsky.

"Yeah, well, maybe they didn't like my suit either." Starsky raised his eyebrows and grinned as he lowered himself onto the couch.

Hutch laughed and slapped Starsky's leg lightly. His gaze met his partner's. "I'll take back the moron, but you're still a mush brain. Thanks for having my back, Buddy!" He reached and ruffled a cluster of brunet curls.

Hutch grabbed a towel from the coffee table and went over to the door littered with bullet holes and retrieved the rifle with the towel. He examined it. "Someone wanted us dead, Starsk!" The words took on a serious tone.

Starsky laid back and closed his eyes. "Maybe there's an open season on mush brains, or morons, or someone with bad taste in clothes?" Starsky snickered, opened his eyes, upon his sarcastic remark. "I'm willin' to bet it has to do with that train wreck ya call a car."

Hutch looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "Well, we took down over a million in this drug bust; I'd say we ruffled someone's feathers. Leave my car out of this will ya." Amused, he shook his head and chuckled. His focused blue eyes examined the gun and moved closer to the lantern. "There's a handmade inscription on this gun."

The street lights came on, and Hutch turned on the lamp and brought the gun to his partner. Starsky carefully took the gun and looked at the etching. His face went blank and the color drained. His lips partly separated and eyes bulged. "T..TAKE IT; Hutch t..t…take it!" Starsky struggled to get the words out. He looked away.

Hutch looked at his partner and took the gun. "Starsk, what is it?" He looked at the gun and read the inscription DMS. "Starsk?" His eyebrows were raised in confusion.

Starsky took a deep breath and stood slowly. He looked at his partner; he looked like he had seen a ghost. "That's my gun." The heightened fear shaded his features and words.

Hutch looked at the gun and back at his partner, a crease formed on his forehead. "What do you mean your gun?"

Starsky crossed his arms over his chest and put one of his hands to his chin and rubbed. "Military issues M21, Nam, with my initials DMS." His voice trembled slightly.

Hutch swallowed as shock overtook his features. "DMS is David Michael Starsky." He mumbled the name as his eyes widened.

Starsky abruptly walked away to the kitchen and sat at the table, his head bowed. "I haven't seen that gun since I put it in storage, the last three digits are four six three."

The sound of sirens approached, Hutch looked again and noticed that his partner was correct the last three digits were four six three, his mouth partially opened.

Chapter 6

Starsky's place swarmed with black and whites and forensics. The brunet sat the kitchen table. He seemed to be hundreds of miles away in thought. Hutch stood in the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Captain Dobey spoke to one of the lab technicians that held the gun. "See if you can get any prints off that gun."

The technician walked by Starsky who looked at the gun as it passed by him. His demeanor wasn't characteristic to his normal behavior. He stood and went into the bathroom and shut the door. Hutch tensed as Captain Dobey walked toward him. "Is he okay?" He looked at his concerned detective.

Hutch crossed his arms and inhaled deeply. "Define okay! No, Captain he's not okay." He snapped. He immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The Captain pulled a hanky from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. "That's an M21 sniper/marksman rifle the army issues. How the hell did someone get his rifle?" He pulled the chair Starsky sat in earlier and sat down. "Hutch, how long has the gun been in action?"

Hutch rubbed his forehead and looked up gesturing his hand outward. "I don't know; I don't get a good feeling about this, Captain." The fear and uncertainty was evident in his features. The unsettling churning in his stomach followed with worry made things feel even worse.

The door to the bathroom opened. Starsky appeared in the threshold. He leaned against the door frame of the bathroom with his head down and picked at something on his finger. "I brought it back home with me. I recovered it from the POW camp. When I got home, I couldn't part with it, but couldn't be reminded so I stashed it all away in my Uncle Al's storage area in the garage. I haven't seen it till tonight." Starsky kept his eye connected to the floor. He could face his superior, he couldn't face his partner.

Hutch noticed he was uncomfortable and in a fragile state. There were circumstances that not even a best friend was allowed to know what went on in Vietnam. He hesitated before he asked the question that was on his mind. "Starsky, you were Sniper/marksman?"

Starsky scratched his head and glanced up hesitantly, his eyes seemed like lost souls as he looked at Hutch. "Yeah, I was one of ten in our infantry, only three of us survived." Starsky crossed his arms as though protecting himself.

Hutch rubbed his neck and looked at his partner. He saw and felt the turmoil within him. "You don't have to give us the details, Starsk." He extended the reserved tone to comfort.

Starsky looked at him and sighed. "I-I...um, I'll call Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al." Starsky retreated to the bedroom with his head hung low and closed the door.

The Captain sighed, poised his eyes toward the blond detective. "Let's hope that gun hasn't been used on anyone else." The uneasiness trailed in the commanded voice.

Hutch walked up behind his superior and looked toward the closed bedroom door.

A young officer by the name of Gordon approached Hutch. "Hey Hutch, we've done a complete sweep. The wind and rain might have taken any evidence if there was any." The young officer delivered a professional demeanor.

The Captain stood, and sighed. "Gordon, I want a black and white outside this house until further notice."

The young man acknowledged and walked away. The remainder of the officers exited behind him.

Starsky exited the bedroom with his shoulders slumped; his expression told a story of disappointment and anger. "Uncle Al says Nicky was here a few weeks ago." The brunet responded as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I never saw him; he went through my things in the storage area of the garage. They weren't aware until now. Son-of-a…aww damn him!" Starsky again crossed his arms over his chest.

Captain Dobey sighed and walked toward the door. "Starsky I'll leave this to you and Hutch to handle, NO PRIVATE PARTIES…you hear me? If that gun…we'll deal with it then." Captain Dobey walked to the door, hesitated. Starsky nodded as he exited.

Hutch sat on the back of the couch, licked his lips. The chiseled jaw of concern evident. "Hey?"

Starsky for the first time committed to the eye contact with his partner. "I'm okay, no…I'm not; I could strangle that little creep! I know what Dobey's thinkin' about the gun. It was used to try and kill you…me. Why? How many others?" Starsky walked to the counter and with his left hand punched the cabinet door. The brunet's shoulders were rigid and his jaw followed suit. The tension showed through his t-shirt in mounds of coiled muscle.

Hutch just looked at him, then sighed. He bowed his head and placed his hands on his hips. "Okay, Sylvia Browne, so much for the gut intuition. What do you want to do, Starsk?"

Starsky leaned on the counter as his anger simmered. "I need to go to Uncle Al's to see what else he took."

Chapter 7

The following morning, they arrived at Uncle Al's and entered the back area of the garage to a storage room. Starsky entered with his key and went directly to a closet in the back where he found the padlock destroyed and noticed a broken back window.

Hutch looked around at all the storage boxes and miscellaneous items of furniture. "Well, it looks like he entered from this window. This stuff looks ancient, Starsk." He gazed inquisitively.

Starsky opened the closet door and pulled a camouflage style bag. He rummaged through it. "Shells are gone, Pop's pistol and the rifle." He tossed the bag on the ground and went back in the closet and pulled an unsealed box. He set it on the old bureau and pulled a wooden detailed carved jewelry box out. His eyes focused and hands shook as he opened the jewelry box, he placed the carved detailed box back into the cardboard box. "He took them!" His voice trembled with hurt and emotion.

Hutch waited and saw from Starsky's expression of sadness it was something important. "Took what, Buddy?"

Starsky cleared his throat. "Pop's cuff links, my grandpop's wedding ring." Starsky's voice whispered. "Terry's engagement ring." He stared at the empty, small, black velvet jewelry box. His fingers grasped around it as though it were Terry herself. He dropped it into the cardboard box.

The last item announced hit Hutch in the heart. He too loved Terry, who meant so much to his partner. Terry was injured and died from a bullet to the head inflicted by George Prudholm as revenge for his son Gary who died in prison.

Hutch reached over and placed his hand onto his partner's arm. "I'm sorry, Buddy." He bowed his head and grasped his best friend's shoulder to comfort.

Starsky placed everything back into the closet and remained silent. His back to his partner as inner rage simmered, his lips pressed tight.

Chapter 8

Starsky sat at his desk filling out forms. His shoulders were rigid and his face contained a no-nonsense expression. Starsky reached for the phone and dialed, he took a deep breath and rubbed his jaw. "Hey Ma, no…I'm okay, geez Ma. I'm fine; I love you too." He looked around the room to make sure no one heard him. "Ma did Nicky mention coming to see Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al?" He sighed and waited. "What has he been up to?" Starsky listened, his eyes widened. "Louis Zancko? Ma don't say anything to Nicky when ya talk to him until I tell ya, okay? It's important, please keep it between us. I love you, Ma. Yeah, talk soon, kisses." He put the handset down; he felt and heard the distinct glare of eyes and laughter. Embarrassed he looked around to address them. "Oh come on, ya all tell your Ma ya love her."

Hutch walked through the double doors entirely focused on the papers he held in his hand. The look on the blond's face appeared unsettled as he sat across from his partner; Starsky looked over at him. Hutch looked up as his eyes met his partner's. A silent conversation took place. Both men stood and headed to their Captain's office. Starsky knocked and entered. The Captain was not in his office. Starsky turned to Hutch. "How many?" The brunet slammed the door.

Hutch startled and cringed. The report came back on the gun. Hutch's jaw tightened as he looked directly into his partner's eyes. "Six between the east coast to here in Bay City. All were cops. All had ties in various stages of investigating Sohar and Sloan. The bullets in evidence all match with a distinctive etched marking." The blond's voice held an edge of anger.

Starsky's eyes turned to look away as he repositioned himself and sat on the arm of the chair. "A zig zag etching. All killed with my gun!" His eyes focused on the floor ahead of him, sadness hung heavy in his features.

Hutch sat across from him, he looked at the paper and back at his partner. He arched a single eyebrow upward. "Starsk, it's not your fault." His voice was calm, soothing and sincere.

Starsky raised his eyes to look at Hutch. Two sets of blue eyes met with intense emotions. "My gun, my brother…I didn't pull the trigger, but I'm still to blame." A tone of edginess expressed.

Hutch pressed his right hand to his face and sighed. "Wait just a minute here, Starsky! I don't want to hear that comin' from you again. You're not to blame!" He snapped.

Starsky's anger left as defeat settled in. The cocky, confident, appearance not present. "Louis Zancko a syndicate wannabe from the East coast, he's slippery enough to be linked with Sloan. Nicky stole everything to buy his way in with the sleazeball, or he owes them money. I talked to Ma, Nicky told her he was off on business, and she hasn't seen or heard from him in weeks. He's here Hutch. I saw it, and I felt it, damn it. Somethin' was tellin' me loud and clear." His shoulders rigid, but not confident.

Hutch looked down at the paperwork. "That's just great, that self-righteous little jerk strikes again." Hutch's tone growled with frustration and ignited the protective nature for his partner as he looked at him. "Sorry Buddy, I have had enough of Nicholas Starsky to last me a lifetime." Hutch was startled when the door opened.

The Captain walked in and was also surprised. "What are you two doing in my office?" The Captain barked sharply. Hutch handed the paperwork over as they turned their attention to him. The Captain took it and read the information and sat down, his chair creaked. "Six police officers?" The Captain's voice uncharacteristically soft cut through Starsky like a butcher knife. The brunet bowed his head. The Captain noted the dark-haired brunet's silent agonizing demeanor called self-punishment. Briefly he turned and looked at Hutch, then sighed. His eyes averted to quiet detective. "Starsky, you are not responsible for any of this, do you understand me?" The Captain shifted in his chair, his tone crisp and direct. "They found a black hooded sweat shirt with a hood about a half mile from your place. This was found in the pocket." He pulled an evidence bag from his own pocket. The Captain handed it over to Hutch, who examined it thoroughly.

"A napkin from The Pits, bullets, and your address on the napkin, Starsk." He took a deep breath after speaking. The evidence and situation sickened Hutch to the very core.

Starsky took it and shook his head and handed it back to Hutch. "My brother's handwriting, he set me up…damn you, Nicky. My own brother set me up." Hurt scarred its stain over his features. The telltale quiver in his voice supplied additional evidence of the spiral of disappointment. Starsky put his hands on his face and then ran his fingers through his hair; frustration aged his features. "A gun I used to defend my country is now out to kill me, killed six cops. How ironic? My brother is behind it." His voice monotoned, he stood and looked at the floor. He couldn't face his partner or the Captain. He headed for the door and opened it slowly. "I need some air!" His voice trembled. The door slammed behind him.

Hutch did not have time to react; he sat and held the evidence bag. "Starsky thinks Nicky stole the gun and jewelry as a payoff or maybe as an initiation to Louis Zancko, with possible ties to Sloan." He fumbled with the evidence bag in his hands. "This stinks."

The Captain rubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Nicholas is hell-bent on making a name for himself, only this time he may have signed a death sentence for his brother, your partner." He adjusted his suit jacket then reached and loosened his tie.

Hutch handed the Captain the evidence bag. He stood tall and his eyes focused. "Not as long as I can do something about it. If I get my hands on that little punk…!" He said with intention, but didn't finish the sentence. The Hutchinson finger pointed and slowly folded inward and into a fist. His stance was tall, rigid and the look of determination on his face was a man out for someone's hide. He turned to leave the office.

Chapter 9

Starsky sat on a cement protective barrier in the Bay City PD garage. The area was busy with police officers entering or exiting. He looked around, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Some mess you got yourself into, Nicky."

Just above on the roof across from the precinct sat a man in a black robe with an M40 rifle pointed down at Starsky, but he didn't have a clear shot. Patiently the man waited. He had a grasp on the hand held the radio. Pressing the mic button and brought the device to his mouth. "I'm in position; you know what to do. Remember the deal?" He scanned the rooftop and looked down onto the garage parking lot area. Hidden behind a car across the lot was Nicky, who had beads of sweat that poured down his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya." Nicky dumped the radio onto the ground behind the car and stood up. He swaggered toward his brother as he adjusted his tan, fancy suit coat and glanced towards the rooftop.

Starsky was looking down at the ground and noticed a pair of shiny fancy brown shoes; he didn't react or look up. "What are you doing here, Nicky?" His shoulders became rigid as he stood slowly and raise his head to make eye contact.

Nicky shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "That any way to greet your little brother, Davey?" He grinned.

Starsky met his brother's eyes, with a cold steel-eyed stare. "Why, Nicky?"

The man twitched and chuckled, the nervousness enhanced his body movements. "Why? What are ya talking about, Davey?" His voice pitched depicting an exaggerated larger than life attitude.

Starsky's eyes were fierce and displayed anger. "Ya stole my gun, and the jewelry, don't ya dare deny it!" He raised his hand and pointed at his brother.

Nicky began to pace, one hand on his hip. "I asked ya to help me, Davey, ya wouldn't. Why wouldn't ya, Davey?" He shouted in anger.

Starsky walked out of the garage toward his brother. His shoulder rigid and eyes tunneled toward him, he raised his left hand and pointed once again. "Oh come on Nicky, ya cleaned Ma out, and now ya wanna do the same to me all because you're out to prove yourself. Face it, little brother, all ya provin' is that ya make bad choices." Starsky's voice echoed in the parking lot and gathered attention from the other officers. One of them was Simmons a fellow Detective.

The seasoned fellow officer turned and walked to the nearest phone on the wall and dialed. "Hutch, you better get down to the parking garage. Your partner and his little brother are about to get into it." He hung up the phone and moved in closer and watched.

Nicky moved out into the parking lot. His hands flew up the air in exasperation. "Choices…yeah. You left me behind big brother, walked away. My big brother, the all mighty super-cop, Vietnam big shot. You know what it's like to try to live up to Mr. Perfect? Do ya, Davey?" He shifted from one leg to the other waving his hands.

Starsky walked by him; his emotions boiled like a tea kettle. He stopped, his hands balled into fists. "You know what they say, it's lonely on the top. Tell me about Zancko? Who had my gun? There are six cops dead from my gun! The gun you stole, little brother. Hope you're proud of yourself. I didn't have a choice in leaving, Ma saw to that. I don't blame Ma, got over that a long time ago." Starsky's face was rigid, his tone blemished with simmering rage and extremely elevated emotion.

Nicky started to pace again and looked around, his lips tight. "Ya blame Ma, and ya blamed Pop. I needed ya, Davey, and where were ya? Huh…saving the damn world. You and Hutch! Where is the faggot anyways? He's usually glued to your side?" Nicky shouted and made a lewd hand gesture with his hands.

The once chaotic parking lot was now still. All eyes were on the two brothers. Hutch bolted out of the elevator and was met by Simmons. The longtime colleague pointed in Starsky's direction. Hutch walked at a fast pace toward the brothers.

Starsky's eyes grew cold as he reached and grabbed Nicky by the jacket, pulled him in. They were face to face. "Don't ever call my partner that again!" Starsky released him. The younger dark-haired man stumbled back. The elder brother's jaw was stiff, and teeth clenched. "Don't blame me for your lack of judgment, Nicky. Either way, you wanted the easy way out. You've signed a death sentence for the both of us with Zancko." Starsky's voice echoed in the parking garage area. The tension intensified with Nicky as he glanced up and saw the rifle pointed at his brother.

Hutch was a mere fifty feet away. Nicky looked up toward the gunman again, and then looked directly at his brother. His voice trembled. "Davey, I had no choice, Zancko was gonna kill Ma. Listen to me, Davey! I love ya, okay, please forgive me? I'm going to make it right! Please forgive me?" Tears rolled down his cheek as a gunshot echoed. Nicky lunged toward his brother aggressively.

Hutch froze and retrieved his gun. Simmons was behind the tall blond; they assumed their positions to cover. Nicky landed on top of his big brother as they crashed to the ground. Starsky pushed Nicky off and pulled his gun and pointed in the direction of the sniper shot.

Hutch reached his partner with his gun pointing upward and searched like a hawk for its prey. The parking lot swarmed with police; Starsky looked down to see his brother still on the ground motionless. He put his gun back in its holster, his face tattooed with worry and fear. His voice softer, laced with concern. "Nicky!" He knelt down on the ground next to his brother and grabbed him. Gently he turned him over as he wrapped his arms around to cradle him.

"Nicky?" Starsky repositioned himself in a seated position and held his brother; his face was pale and strained with worry. Starsky saw blood on his own arms and hands. "SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Starsky hollered, his face washed with panic. This caught Hutch's attention as he put his gun back in its holster and walked to his partner's side and crouched down. He placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "Th…they're c…calling for an ambulance." The stutter w present. His large hand squeezed his partner's shoulder.

Nicky was pale, his eyes were watery as he grinned at his brother. "Davey, don't yell, geez." He gasped the words out.

Starsky looked at him and attempted to present a comforting smile. "We're gonna get ya help, Nicky; take it easy. Ya gonna be alright." His voice cracked with a strained New York accent.

Tears escaped the corner of Nicky's eyes. "Sorry big brother, not your fault. I bit off more than I could chew. I was movin' up in the organization. My initiation was to prove to them I was serious. I took the gun and jewelry. It wasn't supposed to go down like this, Davey. Zohar snitched, told them you were a cop and my brother." The breaths were short and labored. "Sloan's bust is how they connected ya to me. Those cops, the six dead ones were all set to testify against Sloan and the organization. They kept the gun over my head, and Ma…they were gonna kill her." The words came out with quick raspy breaths.

"Not now! Okay? We need to get ya to the hospital." Starsky reached to stroke his brother's hair as his hand shook.

Nicky coughed, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and he reached up and touched Starsky's cheek to caress it. "Tell Ma I'm sorry, and I love her…don't hate ya D-Davey, proud of y-ya! Wanted to be like ya. I went about it the wrong way." His words were slurred and breathy.

Starsky gritted his teeth to keep his emotions in check as he rocked his brother. "Why Nicky, why?" The words pleaded.

Hutch bowed his head and squeezed his partner's shoulder.

Starsky looked around, squinted, his breathing was labored. "Where's that ambulance?" He gritted his teeth together, jaw tightened.

Nicky looked at him, coughed. "Zancko's…connected to S-sloan, shooter is Chan Ye Ling known as da Lion. Davey, you are in d-deep. Sloan's the middleman to Casper Sohar. They waaaant ya d-d-dead." He began to cough again, and more blood spewed as he reached into his pocket then extended his hand to his brother. Starsky grasped his hand and noticed Nicky had something hidden in the palm of his hand. The trembling hand opened very slowly to expose a diamond ring. Terry's ring. Starsky took it and looked at his brother who had difficulty breathing.

"Nicky you hang in there; I love ya, little brother. Ya, hear me?" The words started as an order and softened in tone and expressed heart breaking emotion. The tormented blue eyes shimmered with threatening tears.

Nicky looked up at Hutch and smiled. "I was always jealous of ya, Hutch. T-take c-care of D-Davey, please?" The breaths caught in his throat from all the fluid.

Hutch looked at his partner's brother and acknowledged with a nod. Emotions buried behind a soft, calm, and cool exterior. "Always!"

Nicky looked at his brother as he took his last breath. Starsky placed his trembling hand on his brother's chest. "Nicky? Nicky…No, nooo!" The hand slid to his neck to feel for a pulse. "God…no!" His voice a whispered plea as his shoulders jerked with silent sobs.

The sound of the ambulance approaching echoed. Starsky pulled Nicky into a tight embrace. Hutch squeezed his shoulder and bowed his head and connected to his partner's head of curls. "I'm here, Buddy. I'm here."

The officers along with Captain Dobey all witnessed the younger Starsky's confession and last words. The officers all looked simultaneously at one another. They removed their hats and bowed to honor a fellow police officer who mourned.

Chapter 10

Starsky sat in an interrogation room stricken with grief. His features displayed sunken shadows beneath his eyes and paleness. His shirt, hands and arm covered in blood, his brother's blood. He reached for the phone and dialed it with quivering hands. He leaned his elbows on the table, and his head bowed supported by his right hand.

"Ma yeah, I know, listen, I need to tell ya something. Who's there with ya?" He paused and took a deep breath, closed his eyes and swallowed. "Yeah tell Lilith I said hello. Ma, I need ya to listen… I need to talk to ya about Nicky." His voice cracked as he gritted his teeth and fought the over-stressed levee that held his tears. "He saved my life today. Ma, Nicky's dead. I'm sorry Ma, m-sorry." Starsky had his head bowed, his eyes closed. Moisture poured from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks.

Hutch had opened the door quietly and heard the last part of the conversation; he stopped and eased himself in cautiously.

"Ma did you hear me, Nicky got shot…he d-didn't make it. I'm so sorry. He said he was sorry and to tell ya he loved ya!" Starsky's shoulders quivered, but no sound. The need to cry weighted the corners of his mouth southward and caused his chin to quiver.

A moment passed with silence, his shoulders tightened, and he gritted his teeth. Starsky's body trembled, he could no longer speak. Hutch walked up beside him and touched his shoulder. Carefully, he took the phone from distraught partner. The brunet lowered head onto his crossed arms on the table.

Hutch took a deep breath and spoke. "Mrs. Starsky…Ma its Ken, I-I'm sorry…v-v very s-sorry. David is fine. He wasn't hit." Hutch raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he sighed. "It's important that you listen to me, Chief Esposito is on his way to see you, and he will fill you in on all the details. It is very important that you do as he says. It is possible you are in danger. He'll explain everything." Hutch wiped a stray tear from his eye. "I'll tell him you love him, yes…I'll take care of him; you have my word. I-l-love you too, we'll talk to you soon." Hutch held the phone blinked a few times and reached over and hung the receiver in the cradle.

Starsky slowly raised his head, no tears, no emotion. A blank, pale face with sad glazed-over eyes averted the usual contact. "Thanks. I-I couldn't…" His mouth hung open.

Hutch sat next to him and faced him. He gently cupped his hand over his partner's arm and squeezed. "I'm here, whatever you need." He watched tentatively and made sure his partner heard him.

Starsky looked at his hands. They trembled covered in dried blood. Terry's ring dangled from his pinky. "He couldn't go through with it. He took the bullet meant for me, Hutch." He vacantly stared at the ring.

Hutch looked at his partner and bowed his head; he took a deep breath. "I know buddy; they found a radio behind a squad car and one on the roof." His eyes searched the man that mourned deeply before him.

Starsky's eyes darkened and a cold disconnected hardness formed on his face. "I love him and hate him at the same time. I shoulda been there for him. Ma sent me away, and then I ran away. Which one of us was really the bad seed? I was supposed to be the man of the house." Starsky's face drawn in appearance; darkness formed over glazed, black purled eyes, a man on the edge.

Hutch saw the transformation and gripped his partner's arm firmly and tightened his jaw. He looked directly into blue withdrawn pools of angst. "DON'T…do this to yourself, Starsky!" His emotions trickled through his words. The blond's eyes finished the message silently 'don't you dare do this, not for that selfish little jerk'.

Starsky stood slowly and swallowed, his face softened. "I need to wash my hands." He gently pulled from Hutch's grip. The usual pronounced swagger a simple defeated unsteady walk. His shoulders held invisible weight as he slowly exited.

Hutch put his hands over his face, as he pulled his hands downward. He exposed dire concern, fear, and worried eyes. "Don't do this Starsky. Please don't shut down." He cupped his hand over his mouth.

Chapter 11

Hutch emerged from the interrogation room. Huggy appeared at the end of the hall. He carried a large paper bag. He waved to Hutch and swaggered his way over. "My man, sorry took so long; the fuzz wouldn't let me into Curly's place until they cleared with Mo-Cap-e-tan," Huggy smirked.

Hutch put his hand up and gestured 'I forgot,' he was exasperated. "Thanks, Hug. I'm sorry it slipped my mind." He sighed and shook his head in disbelief.

Huggy touched Hutch's arm, his eyes wide. "So, it's true little bro's dead?"

Hutch took the bag and bowed his head, his jaw twitched. "Yeah, he got in too deep this time, Hug. He was hell-bent on making a name for himself. Dobey's exact words." Hutch's anger rippled as he tried to contain himself.

"Where's your sidekick?" Huggy looked around.

Hutch played with the bag in his hands. "He's in the men's room. I'm worried Hug! No…I'm scared. You name it I'm feeling it." His eyes met the thin black man; they displayed pools of sorrow and worry.

Huggy nodded, sighed and pulled Hutch closer and whispered. "Word is Casper Sohar has employed a gunman by the name of Lion who's connected to a cat on the East Coast. Anita said Little Bro was sippin beers with an Asian dude, aka Lion yesterday. He told her he was gonna' surprise big brother and to keep it under wraps." Huggy looked at Hutch; his brown eyes glued. "This is deep Blondie; Antelope Andy mentioned some city slicker name Zancko was asking questions 'bout the brothers." Huggy paused, Hutch looked at him, concern grew over the already burdened features.

"Keep yourself safe, Hug!" The words were sincere and trailed with uneasiness.

"I'm cool. If you two need a place to hide." He winked at Hutch.

Hutch grasped Huggy's shoulder and nodded. A distant noise caught his attention and he looked toward the men's room. Babcock had exited the bathroom and made a beeline for Hutch; he supported a dreaded look on his face. "Hutch! Hey Huggy!" He nodded and glared back toward the men's room. He appeared riddled with anxiety. "You need to get in there, Hutch!" He cleared his throat. "Starsky's...oh man, you need to get in there!" He licked his lips and rubbed his chin.

Hutch glanced at Huggy then walked away quickly and entered the men's room. He saw his partner washing his hand vigorously, the bandage from his splinter was in the sink, and his hands looked red and raw. His focus was on his hands. He continued to wash compulsively. Hutch placed the bag on the bathroom vanity. "Hey, hey…you're hurting yourself. Stop! Starsky, will you stop it?" The blond turned the faucet off as he looked at the rash of redness on his partner's hands.

Starsky continued the intense cleanse. "It won't come off, turn the faucet back on will ya? TURN IT BACK ON!" His voice cried out loudly.

Hutch placed his hands on his partner's shoulders. Carefully, he turned his partner to face him and looked at him with compassion and concern. The blond's head slightly bowed forward to make eye contact with his irrational partner. "They're clean Starsk, look at me! They're clean." He raised his eyebrows; his voice remained calm. Hutch held the gaze; his eyes showed grave concern for his friend and pleaded.

Starsky looked back at him, he appeared lost and confused, but most of all sad. "It's all over my skin. It won't come off…the murders of those cops, Pop, Terry, all of them Hutch, their blood. It's my fault. I killed Nicky." His eyes filled with moisture, his body trembled.

Hutch kept his gaze as his heart sank. "Buddy, it's not your fault." The tone subdued and reserved only for his partner.

Starsky's chin quivered as he tightened his jaw, he reached up and touched Hutch's chest. He placed his left hand over the blond's heart. "How long before I get you killed, Hutch? I couldn't handle that…your blood would be on my hands. I failed my kid brother. Nicky's dead and his blood is on my hands." Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hand that covered Hutch's heart.

"You've done nothing wrong Gordo; I'm not going anywhere. Hey, look at me, Starsk! Look at me…you're scaring me, babe. YOU ARE NOT TO BLAME!" He looked at the brunet, his voice held reassurance and comforted.

Starsky looked into Hutch's eyes and back to his hand as he smirked. "Friends don't make promises." He gazed at his hands again as the bathroom door opened.

Simmons and Huggy walked in and stopped abruptly. "Dobey's looking for you, Hutch. Everything okay?" Simmon's voice dangled uncertainty.

Hutch had not removed his eyes from his partner and spoke very calmly. "Yeah, we'll be done in a few minutes."

Simmons noticed Hutch quickly made eye contact with him via the mirror. He saw the fear in Hutch's eyes and nodded.

Huggy caught the glance and whispered. "Curly's not in a good place. Hutch knows what to do." He placed his hand on Simmons' arm and escorted him out quietly.

Hutch kept a firm grip on his partner's shoulders. He took a deep breath and softly spoke. "Starsk, let's get you changed, okay?" He moved his fingers, comfortingly and gently.

Starsky chuckled and backed away from his partner's grip. "Whatta ya say we get a beer and plan our weekend?" He shrugged his shoulders and looked at his watch and back at Hutch. "We can pack an overnight bag and stay up on the coast, come on Blondie? I'll drive!" Like a light switch the brunet changed in appearance. He acted as though nothing had happened.

Hutch looked at him with his hand extended out. The blond took a deep breath to calm. "Starsk?" Shocked, he questioned his partner's stability.

Starsky smiled and moved his hands in a playful boxing gesture toward his partner. "Let's go, Blondie! Why so glum? Let's go!" The brunet's jabs were playful toward the shocked tall form before him.

Hutch stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders again. "STARSKY, STOP! STOP! You're scaring me! Nicky's gone, do you hear me? Nicky is…gone, Buddy!" His eyes displayed empathy. His voice expressed compassion and softness, but he was desperate he needed to get through to his partner.

Starsky looked at the unraveled blue eyes and put his left hand and touched Hutch's face. "You okay, Hutch? Ya look upset. What's wrong?" His expression displayed concern.

Tears threatened to fall. The Nordic man at the brink of witnessing his partner's sanity completely unravel. He had to get through to him. "Starsky, Nicky is dead!" Hutch's chin quivered, he searched for his partner's acknowledgment. "Nicky is dead!" Hutch's face wore strain and desperation.

Starsky looked at Hutch in disbelief. Balling his hands into fists he looked at them then over to the mirror and saw the blood on the front of his shirt. Tears began to flow. "Nicky's gone?" Starsky looked back to Hutch, his eyes red and filled with tears. His bottom lip quivered and chin wrinkled. The usually confident shoulders slumped forward.

Hutch pulled his friend to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Starsky silently cried and whispered over and over. "He's gone."

"I'm here, buddy, I'm here! It's going to be alright, you hear me? You're gonna be alright." Hutch held on tight as he too released tears.

Chapter 12

Starsky was taken to a private office and spoke to a department psychologist. Hutch paced the hallway. Simmons approached with a coffee in hand and extended it to him. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Starsky comes from street stock; he's resilient. Mum's the word."

Hutch took the coffee, sighed. "Thanks." Hutch leaned against the wall and tilted his head back. "What have you heard from I & A?" Hutch was extremely uncomfortable as he asked the question.

Simmon's chuckled, looked into his coffee cup. "Simonetti is foaming at the mouth to get his teeth into all of this; Chief stepped in. That worm rarely misses an opportunity to put the screws to you and your partner. We need to get you and Starsky somewhere safe until we locate the Asian guy, Lion. All out mob war my blond compadre'." The man looked around, smirked.

Hutch blinked several times, sighed. "Thanks for backing us!" The appreciation radiated from his eyes.

"Between you and me, Hutch, I love making Simmonetti squirm." Simmon's winked and nudged Hutch in the gut gently. Laughter escaped as he walked away.

The office door opened and a petite woman exited and smiled at Hutch. She extended her hand and touched his arm. "He's just fine, Ken; the initial shock has worn off. It's amazing what love and a solid friendship can do. You got through to him. Don't worry; I'll cleared him with Captain Dobey." She winked at Hutch and walked away.

Starsky exited the office; he wore a clean shirt and seemed more himself. He watched the woman walk away, fumbled with his fingers before he looked at Hutch. "Sorry…didn't mean to snap on ya!" He lightly touched Hutch on the arm. Hutch returned the light gestured touch with acceptance and support.

They walked side by side back to the office; Starsky went to the coffee maker and poured a cup. He sipped it and went to his desk and pulled the chair and straddled it. Everyone continued to work, but glanced occasionally. Hutch's phone rang as he sat down. He reached for it, "Hutchinson," his expression changed. He motioned for Starsky to pick up on the extension.

Starsky picked up the handset and listened.

"Go ahead Hug; we're both on." The blond spoke and looked over at his partner.

Huggy stood in a phone booth and looked around frantically. The streets were quiet and dark. "Sohar and Zancko are here and at my place. They are looking for Starsky. Diane overheard the name Durniack."

Hutch looked at his partner and moved the handset to his other ear before he spoke. "Simmon's wasn't kidding about an all out mob war. Where are you, Hug?"

Huggy looked at the street sign. "I'm a few blocks from the Pits, not safe for me to call ya from there." His voice held tension as he looked around nervously.

Starsky nodded and ran his right hand through his hair. "Hug, did you get a good look at these two guys?" He waited anxiously for the response to his question.

Huggy rubbed his forehead. "Yeah! Starsky, sorry 'bout little bro. A tall dude with pleated pressed pants, and the other chunky greasy suit with a huge stash. Stingy Stan, for a ten spot claims he heard there was a meeting tomorrow night at doc 54 Ten-ish. I smell a setup. Stingy was too willin' to talk if ya know what I mean?" Huggy's face cringed.

Hutch rubbed his face, sighed and spoke into the handset. "This could be a setup. Put the ten spot on my tab. Hug, lay low. Call dispatch or Dobey if you need us." Hutch looked at his partner and raised his eyebrows.

"Hutch is right, Hug, don't take any chances and thanks." The words laced with concern.

Huggy bowed his head. "Hang in there, Curly." They simultaneously hung up the phones.

Hutch looked at Starsky with an intense gaze. "They don't want you to testify against Sloan and are on a mission to stop you, Buddy. What does Durniack have to do with this?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

Starsky nodded and tightened his jaw. His gaze met his worried, blond partner. "Joey's long gone, but Ma and I remain protected. A promise made to Pop. He has a son Jay Jay Durniack." Starsky rubbed his forehead and looked at Hutch. "Time, we put Sohor and Zancko out of business before Durniack gets involved." The New York street vengeance ignited through his words.

Hutch looked at his partner slightly taken back by the tone. "Starsky you can't do this, we can't, partner. You are the prime target, you just lost your…"

Starsky shrugged his shoulder.

"No, but we can Hutch!" A voice called out from behind the blond.

Starsky glanced past Hutch. Hutch turned to see a room of detectives that stood alongside Simmons and Babcock. "We can do this, Hutch." Babcock smiled and crossed his arms with confidence.

A champion smile formed on Hutch's face. "What are we waiting for?" He looked at Starsky and smiled.

The precinct went on full alert. Everyone worked to finalize the details and reviewed maps. Captain Dobey coordinated with Simmons and Babcock. The bulletin board displayed a map with pins placed to determine the warehouse location. Starsky watched and listened, on occasion drifting off in thought. He was brought back by a nudge or smile from his partner. It was late when everyone decided to call it a night.

The Captain tossed a set of keys over to Hutch. "Blue LTD, hotel directions and Edith packed dinner and snacks."

Hutch smiled and looked over at his partner who was miles away in thought. "Thanks, Captain!"

Chapter 13

Hutch pulled the blue LTD into a quaint beach themed hotel off the beaten path; he left his partner who gazed out the window to check-in. Hutch returned with a key and parked the car a few spaces down from their room. Starsky exited robotically and retrieved the paper bags from the back seat. Both men glanced around; Hutch unlocked the door and flipped the light switch to expose a beach cottage decor. The room housed two queen-size beds and ocean-like patterned wall paper, a small refrigerator, mini stove, and coffee maker.

Hutch checked the bathroom and closet then grabbed one of the bags and loaded the fridge. "Edith sent us coffee, tapioca pudding, and meatloaf, mash potatoes with peas." Hutch smiled as he unpacked, he noticed Starsky sitting on the bed lost in thought. He turned. "Even a six pack." He held the six pack up for display.

Starsky looked up at him. "Huh?" With the look of 'lost,' he grinned when he saw the beer. Starsky reached for the other bag that contained a change of clothes for both of them. "Our clothes?" He slowly unpacked each item. Hutch sat on the bed across from him and smiled.

"What would we do without Huggy?" Starsky spoke softly with admiration and smirked.

Hutch prepared for a shower and glanced over at his partner. The darkness beneath his eyes apparent and distinct. He looked tired, sad and drained.

When Hutch exited the bathroom, he found his plate of food heated and left on the bed for him along with an opened beer.

Starsky had managed to eat a few bites and covered his food. "Best I've tasted, wish I was hungry."

Hutch tossed the towel, pulled his T-shirt down over his head, sat on the bed and retrieved his plate. "Thanks, Buddy, smells good." He started to eat and enjoyed every bite. He glanced over at his partner who sat at an angle watching TV or appeared to be.

"I don't suppose I could convince ya in lettin' me do this on my own?" Starsky's voice was calm.

Hutch chewed his food, stopped and looked at the floor then over to his partner. "You're either putting me on, or you don't want me for a friend or partner anymore. Are you as crazy as you look?" A twinge of seriousness followed the warm humor.

Starsky's sad eyes met steely defiance as he smirked. "Crazier…think I proved that earlier when I became unhinged."

Hutch looked at him and smiled. "Start talking like that I'll haul your butt in and read you your rights, Gordo!" He winked. Hutch felt some sense of relief that his partner attempted humor.

Starsky stood and turned the TV off and returned to the bed and pulled the blankets down. He eased himself in as Hutch finished his food and discarded the tin plate. He placed Starsky's plate back in the refrigerator, took a few sips of his beer and turned the lamp off.

Chapter 14

Starsky had fallen asleep. He tossed and turned. He dreamed he was back in the Bay City PD parking garage during the earlier events of Nicky's death. The dream played in slow motion, step by step. Nicky's face appeared then he saw Hutch lying on the pavement. Starsky jumped up and screamed. "H-U-T-C-H!" His face covered with sweat; he was trembling. His breathing was labored.

Hutch rolled out of bed and sat on the edge of his partner's bed. He tried to focus. "Hey, I'm right here, Starsk." Hutch softly spoke and gently rubbed his unsteady partner's back.

Starsky finally realized it was a dream and took a deep breath. "M-sorry." He placed his hands on his face and rubbed vigorously.

Hutch stood and went to the bathroom, and then returned with a wet cloth and handed it to his partner.

Starsky took it and wiped his face and neck, bowed his head as he played with the cloth. "I don't know if I can do this anymore." He looked up and met Hutch's eyes.

Hutch sat on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Life, being a cop, or being my partner?" The words came out playfully.

Starsky looked at him again and smirked. "What if I said all of the above?" He tossed the towel at Hutch. "What…what if…the dream it was so real."

Hutch played with the towel and looked over at his partner and sighed. "Partner, no 'what if.' We don't do 'what if'. If we start thinking this way we'll definitely sign a death warrant." The blond's blue eyes were warm and encouraging. "Let's live life each day to the fullest like we've always done. I've never doubted you, not going to start now. Get some sleep, Buddy. We got some bad guys to get." Hutch ruffled his partner's hair gently.

Starsky smirked. "No regrets. One day at a time…me and thee." He wiped his face. "Sounds like a soap opera in the making."

Chapter 15

The morning came and the day went with continued preparation for the showdown at the docks. Starsky stood inside of a van parked a short distance from the warehouse. He methodically buttoned his shirt over a bulletproof vest. Hutch had done the same and adjusted his collar. He glanced at Captain Dobey sitting on a bench near the control center of the van. "I want everything by the book, nothing cute you hear me?" Captain Dobey's voice barked.

Starsky continued to dress, his shoulders tensed.

"Do you hear me, Starsky?" The question left the Captain's lips sternly.

Starsky stopped and glanced at Hutch and his Captain. "I heard ya." His tone was sharp and direct.

Hutch kept his eyes fixed on his partner. "You ready, partner?"

Starsky lowered his eyes and looked back again. "Yeah," He responded with a softer tone.

The radio echoed in the van. "Tack two for Captain Dobey!"

Captain Dobey reached for the hand microphone. "Dobey here." He answered with annoyance.

Dispatched responded. "We have a man called Huggy, claims it is urgent." All three glanced at each other. "Roger, put him through. Dobey here." He waited.

Huggy's voice came through. "Starsky this is Huggy. Listen, rumor is there's been a change in plans. I need to see you. Meet me at The Pits. This is between you and me, you dig?"

Starsky put his hand out to take the radio microphone; the Captain extended it to him. "Hug, are you in trouble?"

Huggy's voice sounded strained. "Yeah man, I sure am. Have I ever steered you wrong?" The response allowed for a brave performance.

Starsky's face expressed the stress and anger. "Are they still meeting here?" His question trailed with anticipation.

Huggy chuckled. "You got it m-man." Only to Starsky was the fear noticed.

Starsky's hand made a fist at his side. "Is it Lion?" The question hung from Starsky's lips.

Huggy hesitated. "You got it, get yourself over here, now. Be seein' you!" The connection was disconnected.

"What the hell do we do now?" Hutch snapped and looked at his partner.

The Captain rubbed his face. He looked at both men. "If you go there you're sitting ducks." Dobey's voice barked.

Starsky looked at the Captain. "If we don't, we lose Huggy. I'm not gonna have another death on my conscience. We have one hour before the showdown." He raised his hands to his face and rubbed his chin roughly.

The Captain reached into his pocket and threw his keys at Starsky. "Take my car; I'll have backup in route." Captain Dobey scratched the side of his face.

Starsky grabbed his jacket and ran to the exit with Hutch behind him.

Chapter 16

The bar was busy with patrons. Everyone tended to their duties. Huggy glanced around the room. Three men watched the entrance. A tall black man stood near the bar, another slightly shorter blond with a muscular build by the pool table leaned against the support post. Lion sat in a booth with a clear view of the door. The door opened with Hutch in disguise. He wore a baseball cap and checkered hunter's jacket; he glanced around and made his way to the bar. "Give me a beer." Hutch smiled, hoping the waitress, Anita, would not blow his cover.

Anita opened her mouth to speak, Huggy interjected. "You got it m-man. Anita, I'm out of pretzels and peanuts!" He winked.

Starsky entered from the back door quietly with his gun in hand and encountered Anita. He reached around and covered her mouth from behind. "Shh, it's me don't scream. Go in the ladies room and stay there until I tell ya to come out." He whispered in her ear, she turned to him and nodded and ran into the ladies room behind him.

Starsky crawled his way down the hall and slipped behind the bar with Huggy. Huggy bent over to grab peanuts stored in a container. "Post by the pool table, end of the bar. The Lion is in the corner booth with a view of the door." He stood back up and placed the bowl of peanuts in front of Hutch.

He signaled directing with his eyes to Hutch just what he told Starsky. Hutch sipped his beer and glanced casually, nodded to a few of the patrons.

Starsky tossed a glass toward the kitchen entrance where the man stood near the bar. The man heard the noise and went over to look; Starsky followed and knocked him over the head with his gun. The man fell to the floor. Starsky crawled back and nodded to Hutch who stood from the stool with a beer in hand then walked over to the pool table. He tripped over the chair and fell against the man near the post. The man shoved Hutch. The tall blond fought to regain his balance. "Hey, easy, easy man, I tripped. Just an accident." Hutch smiled, raised his hands then pushed the man and dropped his beer. Starsky jumped over the bar, gun extended toward Lion. Hutch pulled his weapon and placed it on the man's chest in front of him. "Police, don't move!" His eyes displayed 'no-nonsense.'

Huggy ducked as gunfire came toward the bar and struck one of the stools. Several of the patrons fell to the floor. Starsky's eyes were dark and determined as he pulled the trigger and hit his target. Lion dropped his weapon and grabbed his upper arm.

Hutch pulled the gun from the man's waist and spun him around to handcuff him. The man from the back emerged dazed with his weapon in hand. Hutch caught a glimpse. "Starsky, behind you!" His voice carried loudly over the yelling and screaming. Hutch pulled his gun and aimed it at the man who fired a shot at his partner. The blond fired and hit his target in the chest. The man fell onto the bar then to the floor. Starsky had dropped and rolled and was back up onto his feet with his gun directed at the fallen gunman.

Hutch stood there as he tried to gain his composure. He almost lost his partner, flashbacks of the past danced in his head.

Starsky motioned everyone to leave, as he kept his gun in front of him. He approached Lion who held his arm that was bleeding heavily. The few patrons that remained ran out of the bar.

The man looked at Starsky as he smirked. "Your brother neglected to mention your versatility and that you're a true marksman." He winced in pain from laughing.

Starsky kept his gun pointed at him. "You killed my brother." His eyes were wild and dangerous, the tone of his voice imbued anger. His face covered in sweat.

The man looked into his eyes as his smile went away and stared at the gun pointed at him. "He had no gut, a stupid squid. You killed him; you failed him. The man winced, kept his eyes focused.

Huggy walked up behind Starsky, his usual swagger not present; there was fear in his eyes. "He's baiting you Curly, let it go." His voice was streetwise but tender.

Hutch made his way over to his partner's side. "Starsk, he's right." The blond took in an anxious breath.

Starsky cocked the gun. The brunet presented a gaze that unnerved Lion. Lion squirmed with discomfort. "Come on you want to do it, those cops, your brother all because you didn't wipe that little moron's nose." His face twitched in fear; the perspiration rolled down his face.

Hutch turned to look at his partner, who displayed rage. The traditional indigo blue eyes were black spheres. Hutch gently placed his right hand on Starsky's chest lightly and pressed. Starsky's eyes regained their standard blue color, he sighed and released the hammer on the gun and dropped his arm. "di vit minh!" The man's face twisted in shock.

Hutch raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. "What did you tell him?" Hutch tilted his head inquisitively.

"Go screw yourself!" Starsky smirked.

Huggy and Hutch laughed as police officers entered. Starsky grabbed Hutch by the arm. "We gotta get to the warehouse. Thanks, Hug!" His tone expressed urgency.

Huggy crossed his arms and watched the chaos of police in his bar.

Chapter 17

At the warehouse Simmons and Babcock sat in their car. They watched several black limousines pull in. The outside lights in the warehouse were dull. Simmons pulled a hand held radio from his jacket.

"Zebra 5 to control." He waited for a response.

Captain Dobey grabbed the microphone from inside the van. "Go ahead, Zebra 5."

Simmons watched as several men exited the cars. "The dwarfs have arrived."

Dobey looked at his watch when the door opened to the van and Starsky, and Hutch entered. "Roger, Zebra 5. Hansel and Gretel have returned." He calmly and confidently responded.

Simmons and Babcock chuckled as they glanced at each other. "Roger, we are at post 4." Simmons refocused at the new arrivals.

Dobey looked at Hutch. "They've arrived."

Hutch checked his gun. Starsky put a new clip into his and took a deep breath. He looked at Hutch. "Showtime!"

Hutch gently grabbed his partner's arm, their eyes met and a silent conversation took place. 'We do this together, got it? Be careful!'

Starsky returned the gentle touch then looked over at his Captain. "Time to put an end to this." The words cut through the silence catching his Captain's attention. They headed out of the van and ran side by side along the buildings. They reached the back of the warehouse. Hutch pulled a hand held radio from his jacket as he took a few deep breaths. "Zebra 3 at the back door." He nodded to his partner to the right.

Simmons and Babcock sprinted across the lot quickly. They arrived at the right side of the building to see Starsky and waved. Babcock went to Starsky gently touched his arm and looked over at Hutch. Simmons gave Starsky a boost to climb the fire escape. Starsky quick-stepped up the metal stairway to a door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He jumped the next level and looked into the window to see five men; he looked down to Hutch to signal how many. He pried the window and climbed in. Hutch went to the opposite side to find a broken window; he reached in and toggled the latch open. He and Babcock jumped in.

Simmons went to the front and eased his way through a side door. Inside the five men stood in the middle of the warehouse. Zancko, the shorter stocky man with the slicked back black hair puffed his cigarette as he checked his watch. "What's holding Lion up?" He adjusted his jacket.

The other man Sohar who was a taller, strawberry blond with a mustache, looked at the gunmen around him. "He'll be here, don't worry." He scoped the span of the large warehouse.

The guards paced around nervously as Zancko coughed.

"Really should stop smoking, you brought the snow didn't you Z?" Sohar amused himself with the comment. One of the guards placed a suitcase on the floor in front of him, he smiled.

Zancko laughed. "Ask and you shall receive. Sloan says there's a lot more (no comma) once he's sprung. Well, that's if Lion has wasted that cop." The stout man snickered with a despicable tone, which exhibited unease.

Starsky climbed down off the window onto a catwalk and down a set of stairs. He crouched down just above the men talking. He looked around to see if he could see his partner and noticed him to the left behind some crates, he signaled. Simmons crouched behind a stack of barrels and signaled Starsky he was in position as well. Babcock shimmied himself a few containers down from Hutch and nodded, indicating he was in place.

The guards paced anxiously. Starsky looked around to find stairs or a ladder he could climb down. He noticed a pulley rigging. The bay door opened as all the men turned their attention to three men that entered. Two were body guards. The other was Jay Jay Durniack, a huge man that wore a smoky gray suit and fancy gentlemen's hat that matched.

Starsky looked down and his eyes widened. The presence of Jay Jay Durniack meant a promise kept to the Starsky family by Joey Durniack and an all out mob blood war. "Durniack, shit!" Starsky mumbled and signaled to Hutch who whispered to Babcock.

"We got trouble; Durniack." Hutch whispered into the handheld radio. "Zebra 3 to control, we have five dwarfs and the wolf, hold your position. I repeat, hold your position!" He looked back up at his partner.

Sohar opened his arms to form a poorly executed 'welcoming gesture.' "Jay Jay, aren't you out of your element?" He smirked nervously, his eyes twitched.

Durniack signaled his men who raised their guns as he smiled. "You stepped on some toes, Casper; you knew Nicky and his brother were Switzerland." He put his hands together and cracked his knuckles.

Zancko watched nervously. He stepped back. "That cop skunked Sloan. We got to do what we got to do, Jay Jay." The stocky man added conviction to his statement as he formed a half smile and glanced over at Sohar.

Starsky watched and knew he had to do something before Durniack followed through his father's promise to protect him. The brunet stood, allowed Jay Jay to see him. He put his hand up and waved it across his throat to signal stop. Jay Jay saw Starsky and looked back down at the men. "Where's Davey Starsky now?" Jay Jay smirked.

Sohar smiled, glanced at Zancko. "He's being detained downtown by Lion." He brushed away a strand of hair from his eyes nervously. Electricity flowed in his veins; he knew David Starsky was already dead. "Business is business, Jay Jay. Nicky became a problem in our production." He wiped his hand covered with hair grease on his jacket.

Durniak laughed as he looked back and forth between Zancko and Sohar. "I'm betting ten grand on the problem to continue. Gentlemen, I'll be seeing ya." Jay Jay chuckled and snorted. The two guards moved aside to let Jay Jay pass then followed.

Zancko started to pace. "What the hell does that mean? What the hell, Casper? Something's wrong here." His hands twitched at his side.

The guards moved around as Sohar checked his watch. "Where the hell is Lion?" He pointed to one of the guards. "Jasper, go out and see if there's any sign of him." Sohar rubbed his lips together nervously.

Zancko handed Sohar an envelope and motioned his men to leave. "Something stinks, I'm out of here." He rubbed his neck aggressively. Sohar's men raised their guns on him.

"Police! Put your weapons down, NOW!" Starsky shouted and signaled Hutch as he pulled his gun.

The guards raised their weapons and opened fire as Starsky leaped and hung onto the pulley and slid down. Hutch raised his magnum and shot one of the guards to the right of Sohar. Simmons fired his gun and struck the second guard on the opposite side of Sohar. A third guard pointed his weapon toward Starsky. Babcock, without hesitation fired his gun, but missed the trigger happy gunman. "Starsky, behind you!" The frazzled dark-haired detective turned then discharged his weapon hitting the intended target. Starsky dodged another bullet that came from a fourth guard. He jumped from the pulley rigging and landed in a squatted position, aimed his beretta then fired two shots that struck the fourth man. The fourth man dropped his weapon and collapsed on the warehouse floor. Babcock pointed his gun toward the fifth guard who dropped his pistol and surrendered.

Hutch bolted from behind the crate, gun extended and aimed at Sohar and Zancko. Simmons followed suit as both men raised their hands.

Starsky walked toward the two men. His eyes fixed, and jaw tense with gun extended. "Lion sends his apologies; he couldn't be here. Tell Sloan Mr. Giovanni sends his regards." Starsky's expression was stern, almost cold and calculating.

Hutch walked over to his partner's side. He could see the pent up rage that emanated from his eyes. "It's over, partner!" His tone held a sense of release, but his features still carried worry for his dark-haired partner.

Simmons placed handcuffs on Sohar who locked his gaze on Starsky, "My sympathy for your loss. Cute kid, but no chutzpah!" His lip slightly curled from the intentional dig.

Hutch's face tensed as he glared over. "Can it, Sohar!"

Babcock hauled Zancko off as police swarmed the area. Simmons grabbed Sohar and walked away with him.

Starsky placed his gun in his holster and bowed his head; Hutch touched his arm, and gently applied pressure with his hand. Starsky took a deep breath and nodded. "M-okay. Thanks, Hutch."

Chapter 18

Starsky flew out with his brother's body and assisted his mother with the funeral. The services delivered in Jewish tradition. Hutch accompanied his partner and stood by him. Starsky remained strong and silent and followed his mother's wishes in regards to Nicky. Hutch worried because his partner exhibited a tower of strength for his mother, comforted her but displayed no emotions. They returned to Bay City. Starsky had requested additional time off. A week had passed and no word from Starsky. Hutch attempted to call, but his partner didn't answer.

Hutch drove to Starsky's place and noticed a new door hung in place. The Torino sat with a new fresh coat of wax. Hutch smiled as he exited his car and headed up the stairway. He knocked and opened the door. Starsky sat in his peacock chair; legs extended out with a beer in his hand.

Hutch stepped in and closed the door. "Hey, the door looks great." The voice matched the blond's curiosity as he examined it.

Starsky displayed a lopsided smile. "Uncle Al got it at a salvage place, a little elbow grease." His smile went away. He avoided his partner's eyes.

Hutch went to the refrigerator and pulled a beer, popped the cap. "Dobey's wondering when you're returning to work. He's worried, and the truth is, so am I." Hutch bowed his head and played with the label on the bottle; he glanced at his partner briefly.

Starsky stood and went to the kitchen table and sat. Hutch, joined him. Hutch placed his beer on the table near his partner's.

"I needed time to think. Between Sloan, Sohar, and Zancko, we just shut down over two point two million dollars of their operation. I guess what we do does make a difference." He glanced to see his partner's expression. Starsky nodded and played with the label on the half-empty beer bottle on the table in front of him. He stood and walked to the bedroom and came back with a small black box in his hand. He sat down and held it in his hands and extended it to Hutch.

Hutch took it with a surprised expression. "What's this?" He looked up at Starsky.

Starsky rubbed his chin and smiled. "Open it!" He smiled and looked away.

Hutch opened the box gently to reveal a silver ring with a single diamond chip embedded in the band along with fancy scroll work. He looked at his partner in awe.

Starsky motioned him to take it out of the box. "There's an inscription inside the band." His eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Hutch gently removed the band and held it up to read. "To my pal, Hutch. Without Thee, there is no Me. Starsk." Hutch felt his heart skip a beat and emotions rose as he looked at his partner. "What, why?" His face beamed with excitement.

Starsky lowered his head, then looked back up. "Its Terry's ring and Pop's original wedding band. You are always there for me. Ya more than a friend and partner. Thanks for standin' by me, even when sometimes I don't deserve it. Ya loved Terry too, and Pop would have called ya a son. Ma does. She suggested I give it to you." Starsky lowered his head, slightly embarrassed.

Hutch's eyes sparkled with emotion and tears stung his eye lids. He placed the ring on his right hand, grinning ear to ear. "It's beautiful; I don't know what to say." He continued to stare at the ring. The long fingers held the band as though it were fragile crystal where he'd slipped it on a finger on his right hand.

Starsky nodded and walked over toward the window and looked out.

Hutch put his hand to his face and wiped it. "Thanks, Starsk." His expression matched the words. Hutch sipped his beer and glanced over at his partner. "Nicky had his own agenda, Buddy; despite all his faults, one thing we know is that he loved you." He walked toward Starsky.

Starsky crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Yeah, Aunt Rosie once told me that you can plant a hundred seeds, but there's no guarantee that they will all sprout the same. You can water them, sun them…always a bad seed in the bunch. Nicky was going to do what he did, no matter what, even if I had stayed. He needed more attention, money and a name with status. Ma knew that. In either case, he's still my brother and I love him." He glanced at Hutch momentarily. "It's just gonna take me some time to get past this." He bowed his head and sniffed. The edge of a soapy scene was dismissed by clearing his throat. "Thanks for giving me some time to myself. I'm still a cop, and no I'm not waxing that heap of yours." He turned to Hutch, his eyes sparkled with moisture.

Hutch smirked; he looked at the ring and frowned. "I have just one question, Starsk?" He glared at his partner with a sheepish grin. "Does this make us officially an item?" The blond hair glowed, as he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

Starsky looked at him very sternly and responded in his authentic Bogey impersonation. "Well, I was hopin' you'd see it that way, schweetheart!" He approached his partner, winked and fondly pinched Hutch's blushing cheek.

Hutch swatted his partner's hand way. "Sorry but you're not my type, darlin'!"

The End…well maybe not, I feel a sequel coming on.

Authors note: We all have someone we know or are related to that sometimes makes the wrong choices despite our guidance. A bad seed may just be someone who lacks in self-worth. Someone who's life has been tarnished by trauma. Possibly someone who is never satisfied with being average or settling for less. Perhaps you are or consider yourself the bad seed. Don't take offense; recognize it and know you are loved and you have choices.

The reason I wrote this is someone made a comment when I posted this months ago and I removed it from fan fiction. This person wrote "this story is stupid." I took the comment too personally. I put a lot of thought into this and recognized maybe I struck a nerve and it didn't really have to do with the story as much as the subject of the story. We all strive for perfection, admiration, sometimes just plain old attention. Some of us have difficulty filling that void. As they say, the grass is always greener on the other side, or is it?

Thank you all for reading my stories. I do appreciate you all.