Serendipity

Hutch leaned his hands on the hallway windowsill and watched Starsky's still form on the bed in the room beyond. He took in an uneasy breath, remembering a similar scene almost a year ago. He felt Captain Dobey's hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" he heard Dobey ask. Hutch nodded without looking up.

"Yeah. I'm okay. This is just a little too…"

"Familiar?" Dobey offered. Hutch nodded again.

Hutch pushed himself away from the window. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. "Well, here goes," he said quietly. As he entered the ICU room, Dobey walked down the hall and disappeared through another door. A moment later, Hutch burst out of the room. "Nurse! Doctor! I need help in here, please!"

Huggy arrived on the unit just as a clutch of personnel pushing carts and carrying equipment crowded into Starsky's room. Huggy stepped back across the hall. His vision of Hutch huddled in a corner was obscured by onlookers peering into the room. Huggy grimaced at them but remained quiet. Most of them moved on after seeing the seriousness of the activities the doctors and nurses were performing on the gravely ill man beyond the glass.

After about ten minutes, the room began to calm down and a few of the nurses and other attendants filed out quietly. Huggy ran a hand across his mouth as he saw the doctor turn to Hutch who grimly nodded his acknowledgement of whatever had been said. The doctor slipped into the hall and disappeared as a nurse pulled the stiff white sheet over Starsky's face. Huggy reached back and grabbed onto the wall railing to steady himself. He turned to go and met eyes with Dobey down the hall. He nodded solemnly. Captain Dobey nodded slowly back. Huggy spun quickly on his heel and walked to the staircase, letting the door loudly slam behind him.

Dobey gradually made his way back to the window. A nurse was pulling the blinds shut just as Hutch was moving toward the bed. The nurse came into the hall as the last of the bystanders disappeared. She gently let the door close behind her, glanced up at Dobey briefly and left. Hutch came out only a moment later, his face pale. Dobey came to his side.

"You look like hell."

"Well, losing a partner will do that to you," Hutch said sarcastically.

"Look, it's been a rough couple of days…why don't you go home."

Hutch's head snapped up. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and took a breath. "No, Captain, I'm fine. I need to see this through."

"I can have someone else…"

"No."

"Okay. I didn't expect anything else but I wanted to offer."

"I know. I appreciate it," Hutch said, trying to relax.

"Try to get some rest tonight, would you?"

"I will." Hutch forced a smile. "Good night, Captain."

Dobey placed a hand on Hutch's shoulder. "Good night, Ken." He picked up his overcoat and hat from a nearby chair and walked toward the elevator.

Hutch glanced up and down the eerily quiet hall. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and ran a hand through his hair. With one last glance at the curtained window across from him, he pushed off and walked to the stairwell.

Once in the parking garage below the hospital, Hutch fished around in his jeans pocket and pulled out car keys. He glanced around in the dim light until he spotted a pale blue Mercury Comet. He pulled his long legs in behind him, started the car and slowly pulled out of the garage. Getting his bearings, he followed a narrow road to the back of the hospital. He spotted large double doors and parked across the lot from them. Shutting off the engine, Hutch slid the seat back and stretched his legs out. He folded his arms across his chest to fend off a chill even though the evening was unseasonably warm for April.

He thought about the case they were on, their recent meeting with Huggy, and the events leading up to them all being here tonight. Hutch let out a long, weary breath and leaned his head against the headrest.

Two Weeks Earlier:

"Calm down, Starsky – that's an order!"

"Calm down? How can I calm down? This…this psycho is copying all my old cases."

"Starsk, the man is aware of that," Hutch said, trying to reason with his overwrought partner. He jumped as Starsky's fist made contact with the top of the water cooler.

"That's police property," Dobey grumbled as he watch the dark-hair detective pace the room then collapse into a chair.

"Why me? And why these cases?" Starsky asked as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Because you solved them." Hutch said quietly.

"What's that, Hutchinson?"

"These are all murders that Starsky solved over the years. This guy – or guys – is recreating them and making sure that Starsky doesn't solve them this time."

"Unfortunately, that makes sense," Dobey replied as Starsky let out a groan.

"T'rrific. And I have no idea of knowing which of the cases he will recreate next."

"Well, so far they have all been cases that you and I didn't work on together. Minnie is pulling all those cases now."

"So far, yeah. We don't know if they all will be or if he'll start on cases you worked with me."

"We are going to have to hope he sticks to this MO because it is all we have to go on. Most of your cases you worked on with Hutch."

"But there were vacations, sick days, that time he was asked to work with the LAPD…"

"I forgot about that." Hutch stood up. "I need to give those dates to Minnie."

Dobey's phone rang. "Don't worry about it, Hutch. I already did." He picked up his phone. "Dobey here. Do you have a lead, Huggy?" All three men looked hopeful for a moment but Dobey sagged and shook his head. "Okay, thanks. I'll tell them." Dobey hung up the receiver. "Huggy wants you to stop by when you are done here. He said no rush, just had an idea that might help us out."

Present Day:

Hutch startled and sat up, realizing he had dozed off. A hearse was pulling into the lot and the headlights flashing through his windshield had been what woke him. He cleared his throat and slid the seat forward again. "Sorry about that, Starsk."

He watch as the long dark vehicle maneuvered into position near the double doors. One dim yellow light flicked on above the doors. Hutch watched as the attendants stepped out of the hearse and met the hospital morgue worker. A document on a clipboard was signed, they exchanged a few words and a laugh. Hutch bristled. A gurney containing a body in a black bag was then wheeled out and roughly loaded into the hearse.

"Be careful, that's my best friend," Hutch whispered. Hutch rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as the hearse attendants got back in and the engine started. Hutch quickly started the Comet and maneuvered out of his parking spot.

The ride across town was uneventful. He had no problem keeping the hearse in sight in the dwindling city traffic. He stifled a yawn as he watched 1:30 AM flash across a bank marque.

The hearse turned off the main road and continued another fifteen minutes. Street lights were rare in this area. The air was misty with fog coming off the bay and Hutch could hear a fog horn in the distance. A long, two story building loomed on the left. The hearse pulled in. Hutch slowed and stopped the car on the roadside. He shut off his headlights. One attendant got out and opened a large garage door while the driver pulled into the building. He shut the engine down, joined the other attendant and together they got into a dark sedan. Once the car was out of sight, Hutch flipped his headlights back on and pulled into the parking lot.

Hutch leaned over and took a flashlight from the glove compartment. He pushed open the car door, unfolded himself from the Mercury, groaned and stretched his back. He quietly shut the door and headed for the building, glancing around as he did. Choosing a key from the ring, he unlocked a small door to the left of the garage, flicked the on the flashlight and stepped inside. He shone the flashlight along the wall near the door until he located a light switch. A few lights flickered briefly then came on. The dark hearse was pulled all the way forward. A single bare bulb hung from a wire above it.

Hutch shut off the flashlight and left it on the bare wooden stairs near the door. He walked up to the hearse and opened the back door. Reaching in, he gave the gurney a hard tug, making sure the wheeled legs unfolded as it emerged from the vehicle. He felt along the black body bag until he located the zipper. Once he had the bag open he looked down at his partner's face. Starsky's eyes were closed and he wore a small smile on his lips. Hutch leaned over and kissed Starsky full on the mouth.

"What the fu…Hutch!" Starsky's arms shot out from the bag and shoved Hutch back. He kicking legs caused the gurney to shake and roll on the dirt-covered floor. Starsky wiped the back of his hand across his lips. "Puh, puh. Why the hell did you do that?"

Hutch chuckled. "You're the one who decided to play sleeping beauty. I thought you'd be dying to get out of there."

Starsky settled down with one more wipe of his violated lips. He smirked. "It was actually quite comfortable. I think I may have dozed off along the way."

"Probably from lack of oxygen." Hutch inwardly smiled as he thought about adding that Starsky had enough brain damage and hypoxia wouldn't help much.

Starsky reached into the bag and pulled out a small oxygen canister. "Nope, look what Pearl put in here for me, the sweetie."

"Sweetie? Pearl Hastings, the medical examiner?"

Starsky pulled his legs from the body bag and swung them off the gurney. "Yeah, look, she even gave me these nice scrubs so I didn't have to wear that paper dress into the great beyond." Starsky hopped off the gurney and looked around. "Which, by the way, ain't what it was hyped up to be."

"Starsky, you always said she reminded you of Roy Orbison."

Starsky glanced back at Hutch and straightened the oversized scrub shirt on his shoulders. "Yeah, well, in a nice sort of way."

"Oh brother," Hutch waved a hand at Starsky. "I'm sure you two will be very happy together." He yawned. "I'm beat. What do you say we find some place to kick back? I think we should check out up there."

"Sounds good to me. Dying is exhausting business."

"You're telling me," Hutch said as he picked up the flashlight and keys from the stair and headed up. There were two doors, one obviously a bathroom. Hutch pushed open the second door and felt around for a switch. An overhead light flickered on and he stepped inside, followed by Starsky.

There were two cots, each with a small pillow and a gray blanket directly across from the door. A rickety-looking wooden table and three chairs stood off to the left. Another taller table held a single-burner cooktop, a pan and a few dishes and utensils. A small old refrigerator in the corner completed the furnishings.

"Boy, Huggy really outdid himself this time," Starsky deadpanned. He walked to one of the two windows, pulled back the shade and peered into the darkness.

"It'll do. It will feel like we are on a stake out, right Starsky?" Hutch said through a yawn.

Starsky dropped the shade back in place and turned back with a smile. "It will." He got a good look at Hutch. "Man, you look beat."

"I am." Hutch sat down on the nearest cot.

Starsky sat across from him on the other cot. "No, I mean you look awful."

"Gee, thanks," Hutch replied as he pulled off his jacket. He left his holster and gun in place.

"You feelin' okay?"

"Yes, why?" Hutch laid down on his back. His feet stuck off the end of the cot. He then rolled onto this side facing Starsky. When he didn't get an answer to his question, his eyelids started to droop.

"This was tough, wasn't it?"

Hutch pushed his lids back up and looked at Starsky with a frown. "How do you mean?"

"The hospital, watching me 'die.'"

"You didn't die. You are sitting right here with me." Hutch purposely closed his eyes to shut out the look of worry on Starsky's face. "I'm okay, Starsky."

"Me too. I'm okay, too."

Hutch looked up at Starsky and smiled. "I know, Buddy. Now let's get some sleep."

Two Weeks Ago:

"What do you mean?" Dobey said through a mouthful of sandwich. "What good is that going to do?"

Hutch leaned forward in his chair. He took a cupful of water from Starsky. "It isn't a bad idea, Captain. Huggy knows we aren't getting anywhere with this case and this may buy us some time."

Starsky offered Dobey a cup of water but he refused it so Starsky drank it himself, crumpled the cup and tossed it at the waste basket, missing. "Look, Cap'n, we can't guarantee it, but we think my death will stop this freak. Hopefully, it is me he is trying to piss off and when I'm gone, he'll give up."

"But what if he doesn't? Then what? And, if it does work, you can't stay dead."

"And getting Starsky out of the picture will make it more difficult to catch the guy, we know."

"I just can't stand around waiting for the next one, Cap'n," Starsky said quietly, sitting down next to Hutch. Dobey put down his lunch, picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desk. "It is either this or I quit the force." Both Hutch and Dobey looked at Starsky, startled. "I'm dead serious."

"Okay then. What's the plan?"

Present Day:

Hutch woke up, temporarily confused until a twinge in his back reminded him of the small cot beneath him. He saw the first rays of sunlight filtering through the dirty shades. He looked over at his friend sleeping peacefully. It did seem like they were on a stakeout so it was strange for them to both be sleeping at the same time. Normally, they would switch off.

Hutch rolled over and tried to get comfortable. He drifted back to sleep.

"Okay, everyone got their assignments?" Starsky asked the roomful of cops. Each one nodded. "And come on guys, don't forget this is for show only. If anyone shoots me, they'll be hell to pay." A murmur of laughter went around the room. "Let's do this." He turned to Hutch who was leaning on the wall near the corner. "Chop, chop, partner." Starsky winked at Hutch who smiled back.

Once in Hutch's car, they headed into the city. "Man, I can't believe we have to take this piece of junk to my…well, you know."

"It's not my fault, your crazy car guy Merle takes too long to fix a simple busted taillight. Hutch glanced over at Starsky who looked worried. "Minnie did a good job compiling your case list."

Starsky paused then nodded. "Hell of a lot of good that will do us, though. Even if we knew exactly what this jerk was going to do…" Starsky raked a hand through his curls.

Hutch nodded silently then said, "We don't know who he will attack." After a moment, Starsky angrily pounded his fist on the dash. "I don't blame you for saying you'd resign, Starsk."

Starsky looked over at Hutch and saw the sadness in his friend's eyes. "Thanks, Buddy." Starsky's eyes snapped to the radio as the dispatcher called in the mock armed robbery. Starsky swallowed hard. "This is it."

Hutch pulled up to the strip mall, pulled his gun and looked over at Starsky. "See you on the other side." Starsky pulled his gun and nodded back.

Two black-and-whites pulled in directly behind them. Starsky moved to the edge of the doorway. "Police! We have you surrounded. Come on out." He waited with his back against the wall, his weapon raised. He nodded at Hutch then kicked back to swing the door open, turned quickly and entered the dark store. Two shots rang out and a police officer, dressed as a robber ran from out of the still-open door. Hutch aimed and shot his weapon. The man spun as if hit by bullets and fell to the ground.

"Don't shoot!" A voice called from inside. "I'm coming out. Don't shoot!"

For all the practice, the entire scene took less than three minutes to unfold.

Hutch cuffed the 'suspect,' being careful not to make them too tight and handed him off to a waiting uniformed officer. He stepped over the other 'dead' robber and entered the store where two more officers stood next to Starsky. He stooped down, glanced behind him to make sure his actions were hidden from the windows and whispered to Starsky, "Great job." Starsky, who was lying face down on the floor, didn't respond. "Hear me? It went off without a hitch."

Hutch, rolled his eyes, assuming his partner was playing his part to the hilt, as usual. "Yeah, okay," he said patting Starsky on the back and standing up. It was then he felt the stickiness on his palm and looked with horror at the streak of red smeared across it. He looked back down at Starsky and saw the blood oozing from three bullet wounds in his back.

"Starsky?" Hutch bent down and rolled Starsky onto his back. Three matching exit wounds pumped bright blood. Starsky's eyes stared unseeing. Blood trickled from his mouth. "Starsky!"

Hutch felt a hand on his shoulder and someone said his name. "Call an ambulance! Starsky's dying," the last words were a whisper.

"Hutch!"

Hutch pushed himself up and looked around the gray room then up at Starsky who was standing over his cot. "Starsky."

"Bad dream?" Starsky asked, keeping his hand steady on Hutch's shoulder as he sat up.

Hutch scrubbed his face with his hands. "Yeah. Man, that was…" he trailed off.

"Want to talk about it?" Starsky finally let go and sat down on his own cot.

"No, no. It's gone now." He looked around. "What time is it?

Starsky looked at this watch as he got up to turn on the lights. They would leave the shades pulled while they were here. "7:30." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out items for breakfast.

Hutch left the room. Starsky could hear the water running in the adjacent bathroom as he put a frying pan on the hot plate and cracked eggs into a bowl.

After breakfast, Starsky washed the pan in the small sink, cursing under his breath as he got the front of his shirt wet. "Need some help there, Partner?"

Starsky dropped the pan on the table, picked up a towel and wiped his hands. "No. Man, this place really sucks. Why is it if one of us was a mob patriarch, we'd be living large and protected at the Ritz or something. Put a police sergeant under wraps and he gets The Roach Motel." Starsky swiped at the wet shirt then finally pulled it off and tossed it in a corner. "I was tired of wearing those scrubs, anyway." He pulled a fresh shirt and some jeans from a duffle bag under his bunk.

Hutch walked over, picked up the wet scrub shirt from the floor and laid it over the back of a chair. He turned to see Starsky fully dressed. "I have to admit, those scrubs were giving me the willies. You look much better."

Starsky pointed at the drying shirt on the chair. "Just throw them out. Maybe they are what gave you the nightmare."

Hutch glared at Starsky. "I told you, I forgot the dream as soon as I woke up."

"Don't play games with me, Pal. You forget you talk in your sleep. You said something about me dying."

Hutch blushed and turned away. "Come on, Starsk. It is just the similarity…it wasn't that long ago."

Starsky picked up the scrub pants he had removed, walked over and took the shirt from the chair and stuffed both items in the trash can near the sink. "I'm not going anywhere, so you can relax." He turned to find Hutch sitting at the table tracing the scratches in the wood with his finger. Starsky sat down. "Even if I quit the force, I'm still going to be around, still going to be your best friend."

Hutch gave him a wan smile. "I know that," he said softly.

"I think this whole killing me off thing was a mistake."

"What?" Hutch shouted. "Why?"

"We just got here and I'm ready to climb the walls. I need to be out there on the street hunting this lowlife down." Starsky got up and started to pace.

"God help me," Hutch mumbled. He knew a penned-up Starsky was never a good thing. "Look, Starsk. I'm going to make an appearance at Metro this morning." Starsky spun around and looked panicked.

"I won't be gone long," Hutch said putting up his hands in an effort to calm Starsky.

"Why can't I just go home?"

"What?"

"Who is going to expect a dead guy to be home, right? I'll lay low, keep the lights off at night. No one will ever know."

"Your nosey landlady will know. She lives right below you."

Starsky slumped into a chair. "Oh man, you're right."

"I'll see what I can do about finding you something better than this but face it, Starsky, you are going to get cabin fever even if you were sitting at the Ritz. That's how you are."

"You're right, you're right." Starsky rested his chin on his hand.

Hutch smiled in spite of the tension. "I'll be back soon."

~ S&H ~

"This is so much better, Hutch. Thank you." Starsky sat on Hutch's sofa and stretched out his legs.

"Well, you were on the right track. You're dead so who will expect you to be at my place." Hutch locked his door tightly and pulled off his holster, hanging it inside the closet door.

"How was it at the office today?"

"Weird. Quiet. The ones who know feel strange and the ones who don't know are all pretty upset."

"No kidding? They miss me?"

"Of course they do. Minnie…well, never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's watch some television. Johnny Carson is on. I think Don Rickles is a guest."

"What were you going to say about Minnie?"

Hutch hung his head, regretting saying anything.

"She's okay, isn't she?"

"Yes." Hutch cleared his throat. "It's just, well…she was so upset, Dobey had to send her home." Starsky's face alternated between feeling bad for the policewoman and looking mighty pleased with himself. Hutch bit his cheek to keep from laughing. "Don't worry about her, though. I caught up with her in the parking lot and told her the truth."

"Hey, be careful telling people this, Hutch."

"Believe me, she was sobbing so hard from relief, you couldn't tell the difference. And since Dobey had given her two days off, we don't have to worry." Hutch watched the self-satisfied smile return to Starsky's face and he knew that once things were back to normal, Minnie was going to have even more of Starsky's friendly flirting to deal with.

Starsky picked up the small stack of case files that Minnie had compiled and smiled at it. "Good ole Minnie." The smile faded quickly as he pulled four marked files from the stack. These were the ones that the killer had already copied. He felt a beer pressed into his hand and nodded his thanks as he slowly worked his way through each folder.

~ S&H ~

The next morning, Starsky woke up to the sound of Hutch closing his front door. His blurry eyes spotted the folded newspaper coming at him and he managed to swat it away before it hit him in the head.

"Good morning to you too," Starsky said with a gravelly voice.

Hutch snickered on his way to the kitchen to make his morning shake. Starsky pulled his pillow over his head to block the noise of the blender. When Hutch came back into the room, Starsky eyed him up and down as Hutch pulled his holster from the hook inside the closet. "Where you going?"

"To work," Hutch said as he passed by again.

"Work? But your partner just died." Starsky put on his best pout which just made Hutch grin.

Hutch sat down and put on his shoes. "I know but life still goes on, Starsk. Dobey has a case he wants me to help Colby and Deckard with. Don't worry, I'm not going to forget about our guy."

Starsky sat up and laid his pillow across his lap, resting his arms on it. "Can you at least try to look like you are in mourning?"

Hutch stood up and took in a deep breath. "How can I be sad on a beautiful day like this?" Starsky leaned over and rested his chin in his hands. "Okay, okay. I promise I will moan and howl in grief. Colby and Deckard were in on your little drama so at least with them I can be my regular happy self.

"Gee, thanks," Starsky said, tossing aside the pillow and heading for the bathroom. "Mind if I use your phone later this morning? I want to call Ma and see if they news spread to New York. She wasn't happy about my planned death but if she gets some sympathy from the neighbor ladies, she may be in a better mood."

"Starsky, that's maudlin," Hutch called over the running water. "I feel bad that this will remind her of your Dad's death."

Starsky emerged from the bathroom and waved away Hutch's concern. "You don't know Ma like I do. I bet she is cleaning the house right now and clearing room in the Frigidaire for all the casseroles."

Hutch shook his head in amazement. "Well, give her my love, would ya?"

"Will do," Starsky said as he began rattling around in the kitchen looking for something to eat.

After Starsky ate, he heard Huggy's familiar knock on the door. "Hey there, Hug. Thanks for coming by. I could use the company."

"Where's your better half?" Huggy asked looking around the small apartment.

"Gone. Do you believe he went to work?"

Huggy clucked his tongue. "And the body isn't even cold yet."

"That's exactly what I said!" He pushed his files off the couch. Come on and sit down and stay a while. All I've been doing is going through these old cases and trying to second guess that guy.

"Going down memory lane only this lane is dark and scary," Huggy said looking at the top file in the stack.

"It hasn't been all bad. I've actually been reminiscing about my time since I joined the department – especially when I was still in uniform."

"Do tell? What was our little Starsky like when his hair was short enough to fit into a hat?"

Starsky chuckled. "Hey, I looked good in that uniform. But to tell you the truth, I couldn't wait to get into plain clothes. It was my goal and my captain knew it right from the start. Ha, I think I drove that man nuts asking to get on a case to get some experience."

"Did he comply?"

Starsky nodded thoughtfully. "He did, actually. There was this scumbag who would target cops after their partner got killed on duty."

"What?"

"No word of a lie. After we realized someone was picking them off on their first case after…" Starsky's voice trailed off.

"After what?" Huggy asked, confused.

Starsky stood up and ran for the door. He turned back to Huggy. "I need your car, Huggy. Quick!"

Huggy stood up and fished in his pocket. "Well, will yours do? Hutch asked me to pick it up from Merle after he fixed the…"

Huggy never finished the sentence. Starsky grabbed the car keys and ran down the stairs. He spotted his red Torino. "This is going to save me time but I sure hope I'm wrong." He unlocked the car, started it and hit the gas. The wheels spun, sending up black smoke behind him before the rubber gripped the pavement."

Starsky fumbled with the radio, "This is Zebra Three calling Victor Eight, come in Victor Eight."

Unit calling, please identify yourself.

"I did, this is Zebra Three, Sergeant…" Starsky grimaced as he realized he was supposed to be dead and not calling another unit on the radio. "Look, this is Dave Starsky. I'm not dead and this is an emergency. I need to contact Detectives Colby, Deckard and Hutchinson. This is a matter of life or death."

Starsky waited for a response, hoping that the dispatcher would recognize his voice.

This is Victor Eight, we have shots fired. Officer down. Repeat, we are being shot at.

Starsky's stomach leapt into his chest and his heart was pounding in his ears so loud he almost missed the address Colby gave.

"Zebra Three responding and if you have a problem with that, talk to Captain Dobey!" Starsky tossed the mic on the floorboards and spun the car in a u-turn in the middle of the street, grazing some trash cans on the side of the road. He listened as Colby described their exact location and where the shots were coming from. He made a quick right turn, almost taking out a pedestrian as he headed up a narrow road to the top of the hill above where the three men were pinned in by the sniper.

Once at the top of the hill, Starsky slammed the car in park, not even bothering to shut off the engine. He scrambled over a barrier on the side of the road and headed down the hill. A shot rang out helping him pinpoint the gunman. In one lunge, he landed on top of the man, the rifle skittering down the rocky slope. The stunned man turned onto his back, caught sight of Starsky and went white.

"Yeah, that's right—it's me. You better not have hurt my partner, you bastard." Starsky reached behind him for his cuffs when he realized he didn't have any. He didn't even have a weapon on him. Luckily, Deckard came through the brush below them. "Take him. Where's Hutch?"

Starsky didn't wait for an answer but instead ran full force down the hill into the back lot of a small gas station. His eyes frantically scanning the small group of police, he spotted Deckard bent over on the other side of his car. Starsky scrambled around the vehicle, ignoring the shocked looks from the policemen nearby. He tried to get to Hutch's side, pushing Deckard off balance.

"Starsk? What are you doing here?" Hutch was leaning against the back wheel, a bright trickle of blood coming from the side of his head.

Starsky couldn't catch his breath but panted out. "You…okay?"

"Yeah, he just winged me. Stings like hell but I'll live." Hutch gave a weak smile and Starsky grabbed onto the fender to help ease himself down beside his best friend. "You look like you could use some oxygen." Colby came into view pulling the cuffed gunman along. "Good job, Colby," Hutch said with a bleary-eyed wave.

"Anytime, Hutch," Colby answered, giving a wink at an indignant-looking Starsky.

"Bu…I, it was me…" Starsky stammered out. Hutch patted him on the leg as the paramedics came up to them, carrying their gear.

"Who's the patient?" The medic asked.

"He is." Both Starsky and Hutch said, pointing at the other.

~S&H~

"I remember hearing about that case. It was before I came to the division," Dobey said.

Starsky nodded from across Hutch's hospital bed. "It was my first chance to work on a case even though I was still a beat cop."

"But how did you know this guy would even know about that case?" Huggy asked.

"That's what I've been wondering," Hutch chimed in quietly. His head was wrapped in bandages and throbbed mercilessly.

"I didn't. And I hoped like hell I was wrong. But I wasn't going to wait around to find out."

"Starsky, you didn't even have your weapon, your cuffs or your badge," Dobey barked out and Hutch winced. "Oh sorry, Hutchinson."

"I know, Cap. I wasn't thinking straight."

"I can vouch for that," Huggy said with a grin.

"We are just thankful you showed up when you did. How did you find him so quickly?" Colby asked, glancing over at his partner, thankful they were okay.

Starsky shrugged. "I know that area. And you did a great job describing your situation."

"Thanks, Starsky," Colby replied, smiling.

"So, do you know this killer?" Huggy asked.

"No, never heard of him, never dealt with him," Starsky answered.

"But we were able to tie him to all the recent killings. This all worked out very serendipitously." Dobey said. "And we owe our success to you, Huggy."

"Me?" Huggy asked in amazement.

"Yeah, Huggy," Hutch said. "If you hadn't suggested we kill off old Starsky here, that guy could still be out there."

"Hey, I do what I can. But I think Captain Dobey has used the right word. It all came together and I still have my favorite detectives here with me to someday pay their bar tab."

"Don't get crazy there, Hug," Starsky said. He saw Hutch laugh then wince and put his hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Partner."

The End