Chapter 8

One week later the blond was prowling his new quarters. For most of the morning he'd been waiting for his partner to appear so that he could go home. It had been an eventful week.

The day after Hutch had gotten out of bed, he'd been moved into his new room. This one had no window out onto the corridor, which added to privacy, but cut down on the view he had of the passing parade and he was soon as bored as hell from watching the seagulls, the cars manoeuvring around the car park and the smog building up over the city. But he admitted he did have a good view of the parking lot and he scoured it each afternoon waiting for Starsky to appear with fruit, juice, magazines and other things. He smiled as he thought about his partner.

Starsky had spent every spare minute with him at the hospital. Even though, once Hutch was declared to be "on the mend" he had to go back to work, he raced back from the Metro every evening and spent hours talking about what Knight had done or what Minnie had said. Hutch had had lots of other visitors once his incarceration in the isolation ward had come to an end. Huggy had called, bringing a basket of flowers hiding a six pack of beers and Dobey had rolled in with candies and magazines. But always there in the background was his curly haired partner. Sitting quietly while he chatted with his other visitors, laughing with him about what they'd said or done, and reading to him.

That first time, when Hutch had been in so much pain with the kidney infection, he'd felt almost embarrassed at the brunette's suggestion and had almost curled up and died when Starsky had produced that book. Jane Eyre! Ok, so it was forced upon them by circumstance, but during the past week, when the fevers had returned and he'd felt low and depressed he found it oddly comforting to look forward to the next chapter. Would Mr Rochester ever tell Jane about his mad wife in the attic? Would Jane ever go back to him after the fire?

Last night, his last in the hospital, it had been oddly fitting that the low, mellow voice had announced in that familiar drawl 'Chapter 38….Reader, I married him'. Hutch had had a smile on his face as he laid back on his pillow, the brunette at his side with his feet up, resting on the metalwork of the bed. Starsky had his nose in the book, focussing on the words as Hutch gazed at him, remembering the past two weeks. Contentedly he sighed and closed his eyes, cushioned on the sound of his partner's voice until the last words of the story, telling of St John's death. Slowly the brunette's eyes closed and the book in his hands fell forward as Hutch watched his friend drop into an exhausted sleep.

That day, as he'd looked for the familiar arrival of the striped tomato he seen his partner get out slowly from the car. The strut he always had in his walk was a little less pronounced and even from that distance, Hutch could see the dark shadows under the indigo eyes. Starsky was worn out and Hutch could tell.

He watched carefully as the head fell forward until Starsky's chin hit his chest and his breathing evened out into the relaxed breaths of sleep. Very gently, Hutch took the book and closed it, putting it on the small bedside table, took the blanket off his bed and draped it over the long legs. He sat back on the bed and waited quietly, thumbing through a magazine. Hutch knew this had been almost as hard for his partner as it had been for him and while he'd been able to recuperate and catch up on sleep, Starsky had had to do a full days work before visiting each night.

It wasn't until, an hour later, a nurse came bustling into the room with his pills that the brunette woke with a start. Starsky pushed himself up and took his stiff legs down from the bed, clearing his throat.

'Good story huh?'

The blond smiled. 'Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all……thanks'.

'What for reading it or for shutting up?' Starsky asked with a twinkle in his eye as he rubbed his face to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep.

'For being here' Hutch said softly. 'I couldn't have gotten through this without ya and I know it's been tough on you'. He patted his partner's knee with a hand sporting an enormous blue bruise, but free of the dreaded drip feed.

Starsky smiled back. 'You're not gonna get soapy are ya? I did what I had to and you'd have done the same thing. Hell, you have done it. Remember Bellamy? Remember that Italian? You were always there for me buddy'.

'I know. I guess I'm just feeling kinda…..dunno. Judith's goin' home tomorrow'.

The brunette looked down at the floor. 'She couldn't stick around for ever Blintz. She has a job to do and there's some kind of outbreak in North Carolina. She needs to be there'.

Hutch heaved a deep sigh and changed the subject. 'So what time are ya comin' for me huh? When do I get sprung?'

'I'll be here about 11:00am. I'll bring your clothes, take ya home and tuck you in'.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

And so now, he prowled the room, checking the clock on the wall and gazing expectantly out of the window at the parking lot. Eventually the familiar car appeared and he watched fondly as Starsky got out, retrieved a bag from the trunk and headed for the door. Minutes later the brunette appeared at the door to his room, bag in hand.

'OK. Blue jeans, checked shirt, belt, shoes, socks, undies' he waved Hutch's boxers in the air. 'Cake with file baked in to get you out of here' he grinned.

Hutch took his underwear from his partner's hand and grabbed the bag, heading into the bathroom to get himself dressed for the first time in two weeks. Grimly he looked at the ripple effect of his skin pulled taut over prominent ribs and the tired look in his eyes. His skin still carried a tan, but nothing could disguise the sickly pale look of a guy who'd faced death and cheated it. He shrugged his shoulders and told himself not to be so damned poetic.

Five minutes later he emerged from the small room, washed and dressed, his pants a little baggier round his hips and held up by a belt fastened with an extra tight hole.

Starsky looked at the gaunt face and the thin frame, the clothes seeming to emphasise just how many pounds his partner had dropped during his illness, but he put the dark thoughts to the back of his mind and grinned.

'Ya ready for the big break out?'

Hutch nodded. 'Bring on the wheelchair and let's roll!'

Pushing the nurse call button, they waited until the porter arrived with the requisite vehicle and the nurse lined up to say goodbye to their favourite twosome. Hutch managed to kiss each one of them in turn and Starsky managed to get in quite a few pecks also as they paraded down the ward. The last woman in line thrust a paper sack containing a further six weeks supply of antibiotics and instructions to return for a check up in a week. As both men nodded and shouted more goodbye. The porter pushed the chair to the lift and eventual freedom.

As Hutch got himself into the front seat of the Torino and Starsky loaded the bags into the trunk, he looked around. Was he just being crazy, or did the sky seem bluer and the sun brighter? He took a deep breath and enjoyed the smells of the city air rather than the canned air of the room he'd been confined to for what seemed like an eternity and as his partner got into the car beside him, he leaned his head back against the headrest and turned his face to the warm sunshine, allowing himself the pleasure of feeling the rays on his skin.

Starsky watched in amusement. He'd been there himself and he knew the score. Those first moments out of hospital were always good ones and he waited a moment while his partner savoured them. Finally he started the engine and drove the big car out of the lot and turned out into the afternoon traffic, heading east on the highway.

Hutch watched the passing parade for a while, just happy to be free of nurses, needles and beds for a while, but eventually curiosity got the better of him.

'Where are we going?'

The brunette cast a sideways glance. 'For a drive?'

'Why? I thought you said I was going straight home for you to do your Florence Nightingale routine'.

'Ya know. I think I see myself more as a Doctor Kildare' the curly haired cop mused as he hung a left and set off down the broad highway'.

'Starsk, I'm still kinda tired. Where are we going?' Hutch asked, feeling every bump in the road as it jostled his thin frame. He held onto the passenger grab and closed his eyes, knowing his partner would tell him in time.

Fifteen minutes later, Starsky pulled the car up outside LAX, in the white zone of the frontage and Hutch opened his eyes, hearing the familiar recorded voice

'No parking in the white zone….The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only'.

He looked around. 'We going on vacation or what?' he asked in a bemused voice as Starsky trotted around to the passenger door and solicitously helped him out of the car. The brunette led Hutch into the departure hall and waited at the foot of the escalator as the blond looked around him.

'Starsk, you didn't…..she isn't….oh my!'

Walking towards him through the crowd was a certain brunette doctor, her big eyes twinkling as she made her way towards him.

'Judith!' he said, smiling, his heart full of hope.

Starsky moved away to give them some privacy. The previous night he'd phoned the woman and arranged to bring his partner to the airport for their goodbyes and now he gave them their space, watching fondly as Hutch looked down at the diminutive doctor.

They talked together quietly.

'Can't you stay for the weekend?' Hutch blurted out suddenly and she smiled at him.

'I'm a working lady'.

'You're a coward. Now that we've got no window separating us. You're afraid to take a chance. Is that it?

'You don't believe that'

'Well then stay and prove me wrong. I'm a healthy man now, there's still time for you to change your mind'

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him tenderly before bending and picking up her bag.

.No' she smiled and started up the escalator as Hutch watched her leave. He leaved a sigh and Starsky rejoined him, knowing that the blond had really had feelings for the beautiful doctor.

He put his hand up to his partner's shoulder.

'C'mon Blondie. You're not ready for the big league yet. Lets get you home and tucked into bed huh?'

Hutch walked backwards, his eyes still on the departing woman before turning and following his friend back to the escalator.

'Still aim to live to 148' he said happily. 'Only another 120 years to go, an' I aim to enjoy every single one of 'em!'