Author's notes:
Welcome to Shawne's, Brook's, and Karen's quilting bee:
What is a quilting bee?
A quilting bee is a gathering of friends and neighbors who come together to work on creating a quilt. The original purpose behind a quilting bee was to enlist the help of several people in order to get the quilt finished in a much faster fashion than if just one person worked on the quilt. While this is still a modern advantage to the quilting bee, the primary purpose behind the 'quilting bee' is to socialize with others who enjoy the craft of quilting.
Shawne, Brook, and Karen have come together in friendship, bringing with them their love, enjoyment, and passion for the characters of Starsky and Hutch. Each of the ladies offering up their own flavor and color... step by step... they have together designed this story for you.
We hope you can sit back, pull the warm quilt that is hung over the back of your chair around your shoulders, sip a soothing drink, and enjoy our labor of love.
You may feedback on and will receive a response that represents all three of the ladies. We are ever so grateful for your time and care, as this story was written for you-- our dear readers! You may also feedback the writers individually at:
Shawne:
Brook:
Karen:
Special note of thanks from Karen B: I cannot say how honored and privileged I am to have had this opportunity to work with Shawne and Brook on this piece. Both ladies are angels who share their love and their light freely and without holding back. This is a time I will cherish forever! The pleasure has been all mine!
Special note from Shawne: Like Karen, I'd just like to express my heartfelt thanks to these two wonderful ladies who collaborated with me in the making of this story. Needless to say, it was quite a hoot! Deep appreciation and thanks also goes out to you dear readers, for whom this story was fondly created.
Special note from Brook: I would like to thank Shawne and Karen for all the time they have put into this story ...they are great writers and I was proud to be a part of this. Hope everyone enjoys the story as much as we had putting it all together.
Story disclaimer: Although the story's inspiration is based loosely around a true life event... names have been changed and the story itself does not depict any actual facts. This story is purely fictional and was written solely for the purpose of entertainment. No profit is made and no rights to Starsky and Hutch are claimed.
-oo0oo- No Escape-oo0oo-
Chapter One
The door to the interrogation room slammed opened. Starsky roughly shoved the suspect onto the hard wooden chair almost tipping it and the Irishman over in the process. "Sit down!" the dark haired detective snarled as his blond counterpart calmly entered the room, gently closing the door behind him.
Hutch pulled out the chair at the end of the table and sat down, arching a pale brow to give William McVee the once over. 'Billy', as the older man was called by his cronies; glared up at the brunet, egging him on with a look of despised loathing although he wisely remained silent, almost daring the hot tempered cop to react as his lip lifted in a sneer of utter contempt. After a moment's silence, the need to talk far outweighed the need to be wise as McVee grinned. "Ye can see I'm sittin' lad, but I shan't be talkin' t'ya without me lawyer," William said, using his most cordial voice, knowing it would irritate the already furious cop.
"Don't think we don't know about you McVee," Starsky snapped, dark blue eyes glittering dangerously. "You're a sick man!"
"Ah laddie, enough with the compliments and accusations," the Irishman said snidely, knowing he was succeeding in riling the brunet's temper. "I've had me a most tryin' day and as much as I love being with you gents, I don't believe me attorney will be very pleased that I'm talkin' to ya boys, so I think I'll have to take me leave now . . ." The older man stood up only to have the dark haired cop shove him abruptly back down onto the chair.
Hutch sighed heavily and dragged his hand wearily over his face. It had been a long six months. Six months of tailing the perp sitting beside him. Six long months of researching and taking statements from the different witnesses. Six months of surveillance and uncomfortable stakeouts parked outside the Irishman's apartment complex with cold pizza, lukewarm coffee and for entertainment . . . some skin magazines bought at the corner store by the curly haired detective who was now literally fuming; his cobalt colored eyes spitting blue fire as he glared at the smiling Irishman.
"Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!" Starsky exploded. "We know that you're responsible for the mall bombings in several states asshole, so don't try to charm us by your fake Irish accent! Your first mistake was coming to Bay City with your son, and your second mistake was when you made it personal by bombing that school. What kind of sick bastard bombs a school for special kids . . . huh?" Starsky fisted his hands, breathing hard. He fought to control the anger that surged within him at the thought of Sally and the others who had lost their lives in the senseless bombing that rocked Bay City.
"Starsk," Hutch said softly in warning, a deep groove appearing between the blond's brows as he frowned. He knew McVee was provoking his partner, goading the brunet into possibly throwing a punch and knowing his hot-tempered friend as well as he did, Hutch knew it wouldn't be long before Starsky completely lost it. Starsky wanted retribution and he wanted it now.
The bombing of Terry's school the other day, ignited a streak of hot vengeance in the brunet and it was all Hutch could do to keep his partner level-headed in light of the situation at hand. The tall blond wearily stretched out his long legs beneath the wooden table, chewing the inside of his bottom lip as he mentally prepped himself for a long session of blarney with the smooth talking Irishman.
"Yes laddie, ye bes' listen to your good-lookin' partner over here. T'would be really a shame if I walked outta here on account that you couldn't hold onto your ire." McVee snickered, his green eyes dancing with unbridled mirth as he watched the brunet struggle for control over his emotions. "Now if ye gentlemen will both excuse me, my son must be wonderin' where his da has disappeared to," the Irishman said, yawning in exaggeration as he stood once more. "And t'be quite honest I can't stay any longer 'cause you're borin' me to tears . . ."
"Umph!"
Hutch quickly looked up; the sudden grunt of pain drawing his attention from the deep scratches on the wooden tabletop of the interrogation room where he had been focusing just moments ago. The pale blue eyes widened as he saw his angry counterpart drag the Irishman from the chair to brutally slam him up against the wall, his fists clenched around the worn material of McVeigh's jacket.
"Take a good look at my face you son of a bitch," the dark haired cop snarled, angrily pulling the Irishman away from the wall, only to brutally slam him against it once more. "'Cause we're gonna put you away for what you've done, for the people that you've killed or hurt," Starsky growled, his rough voice was both low and ominous. "And when we do, and you're sittin' in your stinkin' cell hole rottin' away, I hope you remember me because I'm gonna be outside celebratin' you being locked up like the sick dog that you are . . . you asshole!"
"Starsky!" Hutch said sharply as he quickly wedged his long frame between the struggling men. "Starsk!" The tall blond finally succeeded in pulling his partner away.
"Sit down McVee!" Hutch ordered as he held his angry partner back, one arm wrapped across the brunet's heaving chest. "And don't move!" Hutch snarled, finger pointing warningly at the older man, who trembled in his seat. With that, the blond detective manhandled his partner to the door and slammed it closed behind them.
Once they were out in the corridor, Starsky angrily shrugged free from his partner's hold. "You should'a let me hit him Hutch! That piece'a shit was just askin' for it!"
"What?" Hutch whispered angrily, pale blue eyes flashing like silver; very aware of the spectacle they were making of themselves as they stood out in the open corridor of the precinct. "And throw away six months of hard work?" Are you crazy?"
"Fuck!" Starsky snapped, angrily pounding a fist against the wall. "I want him so bad Hutch . . . I want him so bad I'm shakin' inside. I wanna put him away so fast and so hard that he won't know what hit him!"
"Starsk," Hutch said soothingly. Feeling the need to protect his hot-tempered partner Hutch moved his tall frame closer to his friend to shield him from the gaping spectators, nodding curtly to the people to move on, and refusing to speak until they did so.
The fair-haired cop took in a grounding breath and carefully laid a large, warm hand upon his partner's shoulder, eyes widening in surprise as he felt the slight tremors that wracked the brunet's body, "Hey buddy." Hutch's brows drew together in concern. "Try to take it easy okay? I-I know how you feel . . . I loved . . ." The tall blond detective took a stabilizing breath in, eyes softening with sadness as he looked at his partner, sky blue eyes connecting to dark sapphire. "I loved Sally too buddy, and we're gonna nail him, but we have to do this the right way so that it sticks . . . so that we can make sure he'll be locked up for a long time . . . okay Gordo?" The tall blond smiled, his voice soft and soothing. Visibly seeing his partner relent, Hutch nodded, as he felt the pent up tension leave the brunet's rigid body.
"Yeah . . . yeah okay," Starsky sighed softly, reaching up to tap the comforting hand on his shoulder. "Thanks buddy . . . I almost lost it in there . . . almost blew it." The dark haired detective closed his eyes and then snorted quietly, shaking his head as he said once more. "Sorry pal!" The contrite brunet looked up to smile apologetically at the tall blond and Hutch could see the plum colored patches of exhaustion under the bright blue of Starsky's eyes.
"No need to apologize . . . tell you what . . . after this, let's go back to my place and I'll scramble some eggs up for us . . . or if you like, we can go back to your place and you can buy the beer and pizza . . . sounds like a plan?" Hutch grinned, wanting more than anything to take his weary partner and leave the precinct this very moment.
After all, it had been only seven months since Starsky had rejoined the force since his near fatality in the police garage shooting. It had taken almost a year and a half for Starsky to bounce back to the man he used to be. A year and a half of pain and recuperation, of meds and therapy and Hutch had stood by his partner all the way. It took a year and a half before Starsky was cleared by the board and could return to work.
A part of Hutch was so thankful that Starsky had returned to the streets with him, and yet, a part of the sensitive blond wished that Starsky would have used the interim of healing to consider another profession. A safer one. One where Hutch wouldn't have to constantly worry about his partner's well-being, especially now that Starsky had a compromised lung . . . a parting gift from Gunther's failed assassination attempt.
"You're on!" Starsky grinned, reaching out to turn the doorknob to once again enter the room from which they came, when the click of angry heels on the polished corridor floors stopped them in their tracks.
"Excuse me officers, I am William McVee's attorney, Sharon Neilsen, and you have no right to keep my client and question him without legal representation." The salt and pepper haired woman reached up to push the bottle-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her hawk-billed nose. "I am here to release Mr. McVee from these premises."
"Hey wait a minute . . . hold on," Starsky objected heatedly, his eyes narrowing with anger. Hutch put his hand on his partner's shoulder once more to calm his friend as he glanced down the corridor to see Dobey standing in the hall by the door to his office.
"No, you need to hold on . . . you see, I've already talked to your Captain and I am taking my client out of here this instant!" Neilsen said smugly.
Both detectives turned to glare at their heavyset Captain who gruffly nodded, motioning them with a wave of his hand to let the attorney in. The dark haired detective angrily turned the knob and pushed the door back allowing the woman access, while Hutch walked swiftly down the corridor towards his captain.
"What's going on Captain?" Hutch asked, as he kept an eye on his incensed partner. "What the hell happened?"
"We have to let him go . . . we didn't have enough evidence to hold him here and apparently McVee has an alibi that will hold up in court," Dobey said gruffly.
"Yeah?" And what's that?"
"It appears he was with a co-worker of his, a Larry Jenkins, who can vouch for McVee's whereabouts on the day the school was bombed. Apparently Jenkins, McVee, and his son Timothy were together all day, and they were nowhere near the school when it blew."
Hutch watched as Neilsen and a smiling McVee walked passed the dark haired detective. A gloating look of triumph plastered William's face as the older man sneered up at the cop saying snidely, "Tsk, Tsk . . . too bad detective . . . can't say it's been a pleasure . . ."
Hutch rushed back to his partner's side as Starsky's hands instantly shot out, much to the chagrin of the attorney who started yelling at the top of her lungs. The brunet grabbed the lapel of the Irishman's jacket, nearly lifting the struggling older man whom he immediately slammed against the wall. Starsky's face just inches away from McVee's; the angry cop whispered menacingly, "You better make damn sure you stay clean and walk the straight and narrow 'cause I'll be there . . . I'll be there waitin' for you to fuck up McVee . . . I'll be watchin' your every step and when you slip up I'll be there and then you'll be behind bars so fast . . . so fast you won't know what hit ya!" The dark haired detective could feel the strong hands of his partner as Hutch tried to loosen his hold on their suspect.
"Starsky! In my office now!" Dobey hollered angrily as the brunet allowed his partner to pull him away, dark blue eyes glittering dangerously, shooting daggers at the older man who never lost his smug smile the whole time the cop had him against the wall. McVee made quite a show of dusting the lapels of his coat as the dark haired cop dropped him abruptly to his feet.
"You can be sure detective," Sharon Neilsen said with a huff. "That my client will be filing a complaint against you for harassment and police brutality. Let's go Mr. McVee."
"Certainly Miss Neilsen," William said gallantly, letting the woman pass before him as he winked and waved his fingers at the furious curly haired cop. "Toodles detective!" he laughed as he passed Starsky by.
"Starsky?" My office NOW!" Dobey snapped as he turned to enter his office leaving the door open behind him.
"Shit!" Starsky let out a heavy sigh as Hutch draped a heavy arm over his shoulder. "You think someone's pissed or what?" the brunet glumly queried.
The tall blond shrugged, "You mean besides you?" Hutch chuckled softly and smiled wanly at his partner's glare. "Well, it's my guess that Dobey ain't a happy camper right at this moment . . ."
"Tell me about it," Starsky mumbled under this breath as both detectives walked into their captain's office, taking a seat before Dobey's desk.
"Just what the hell was that?" Dobey growled as he glared at his dark haired detective. "You know better than that Starsky . . . we do things by the book here and threatening a suspect isn't one of them."
"Yeah . . . well . . ."
"Don't 'yeah, well' me," Dobey interjected. "Anymore crap like that and I'm taking you off this case. As it is, you shouldn't even be on this one . . . it's too personal and . . ."
"Cap," Starsky broke in, eyes blazing angrily, "I can do my job . . . I'm a cop and a professional . . ."
"Then act like one!" Dobey snarled. The heavyset man sighed. He peered at the blond who sat quietly, flicking his eyes over to the sullen brunet who wisely shut his mouth.
The perceptive Captain could read the fatigue in both of his men, could see the weariness in the fine lines around their eyes and mouths and the dark circles under the brilliant blue eyes of the hot tempered brunet gave the black man pause. Almost to the day Starsky came back to the station, they'd been put on this case, going non-stop all the way, and now with the bombing of the Marshall Center for Special Children . . .
Dobey propped an elbow on his desk as he scratched his head in frustration. "I know how you're both feeling. I know it's Terry's school and Sally was an innocent victim, but Dave, it's no cause to go ballistic on McVee. I mean, we don't have enough evidence that can even indict him in the first place . . ."
"You hear that?" Starsky said to his partner. "He called me Dave!" Hutch snorted softly, but remained quiet as dark man glared at the brunet.
Starsky sighed, "Okay, so we don't have enough to make it stick, but Cap, my guts tell me . . ."
"Your gut feelings won't hold up in court Starsky . . . you know that." Dobey said in a kinder voice as he watched his discouraged detective sink back into the chair and wearily close his eyes in frustration, long dark lashes smudging pale cheeks, a testament to the weariness the brunet felt inside. The captain looked over to the blond detective who was watching his partner with concern.
"Take him home Hutch . . . he can have the rest of the day off . . . and you too. I think you both deserve some time to R & R, but be back here bright and early tomorrow morning. You got that?"
"Yeah, tomorrow morning . . . bright and early," Hutch reiterated as he helped the brunet get to his feet; his hand at his partner's back. "And um . . . thanks Captain," the blond said softly as he and Starsky made their way out the door.
"Yeah, thanks Cap," the dark haired detective parroted as he pulled the door closed behind him.
To Be Continued . . .