Starsky stood in the doorway, talking to the owner of Oakbrook Chemicals, while his partner poked around the room in search of clues as too who had broke in and stole several thousand dollars from the safe.

"Was there anyone who might've seen the break-in?"

Hutch half-listened to Starsky's conversation with Harvey Mills as he looked around the area of the safe. The inside was completely empty. The thieves had cleaned it out. Light glinting off something at his feet caught his attention and he picked up a few shards of glass from the floor. "Starsk," he said turning around, then winced as one of the pieces dug a small cut in his finger. He fumbled not to drop the pieces.

Mills had just told Starsky that nobody had been home to see or hear the thieves and now he stood staring at the glass in Hutch's hand.

Starsky turned quickly when he heard his partner call his name. Genuine concern showed in his eyes as he moved quickly to his partner’s side. "You okay?" he asked, looking at the bleeding finger for a moment, before pulling out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wrapped in gently around the bleeding finger.

"Yeah, just a little cut," Hutch answered, more annoyed than in pain. He held the shard up to Mills in his uninjured hand. "Any ideas what these might have come from?"

Mills shook his head. "I can't think of anything they might have taken that was made of glass," he told them.

Hutch nodded to a uniformed policeman to bag the glass shards and take them away. He unwrapped his finger and looked at it, rolling his eyes as he did so. Annoying. Like a papercut. He put it to his mouth and sucked on it for a second, then wrapped it back up in the handkerchief.

Starsky looked around for anything that might've been broken nearby, a picture frame anything, seeing nothing. "Maybe it was something they dropped."

"If it was, maybe it'll help us figure out who they are," Hutch suggested. "Mr. Mills," he said, "if you can think of anything else that might be helpful - even something you figure is probably insignificant - you give us a call, okay?"

Mills nodded.

"You sure your finger's okay?" Starsky asked once they'd reached the car. He knew it was a small cut but could never help but be concerned about *any* injury inflected on his partner.

Hutch nodded. "Needs a band-aid. That's about it." He paused thoughtfully. "Funny them carrying something glass around to a robbery, don't you think?"

"Might be one in the glovebox." Starsky said, climbing into the car and rummaging through the contents until he found what he was looking. "Ah-ha." he said triumphantly as he held up the band-aid, and handed it to Hutch. "Here you go,

partner."

Hutch took it and tore it open. "Thanks," he said, then slid into the passenger seat of the car.

"Where to now?" Starsky asked, wondering if Hutch had came up with any helpful clues.

Hutch shrugged. "Doesn't really matter. Why are we here anyway? Not like anyone was killed. Should have told Mills to get in touch with his insurance company. We have more important things to do." He laughed a bit. "Should have told him to give us a call if they come back and kill him."

"Um ..." Starsky started to say, staring at his partner, taken aback by Hutch's callous attitude towards the crime. "We're here because it's part of our *job*." he said finally.

"We're homicide detectives, Starsky. I don't know why even waste so much of our time bothering with all this piddlin' shit." He put on a look of mock-horror. "Oh no, some rich bastard got robbed of a couple thou! How will he feed his family?" Then his look, still mocking became contemplative. "Oh wait, he doesn't have a family. Well, that's a relief. Let's go pick up something to eat."

"Uh ... you sure you're feeling okay?" Starsky asked. "What's the matter things not going so well with whatshername?"

"What'swhosename? Oh *her*," he shrugged. "It's alright for her. She's having fun. She's just kind of... how can I put it? Stupid. She's dumb as a post. I've met grapefruit with more brains than her. Which is alright, unless you want to have a conversation or something. She has other... skills." He smiled a bit as he said that, then furrowed his brow and looked at Starsky. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason, other the fact you started bitching about this case. It might not be exciting, but it's all part of the job."

Hutch sighed heavily. "Don't condescend to me, partner. Tell me this stupid case doesn't bore the shit right out of you, too. Why don't we just go hand it over to Robbery and be shut of it? I'm sure there's a horrible grisly murder somewhere in town that's a little more worthy of our talents."

"What is your problem? So what if the case is boring. It's actually a nice break from trying to catch the 'murderer of the day'." Starsky said impatiently.

Hutch rolled his eyes and settled back in his seat. "You just like these cases because you're slowing down," he muttered.

Starsky glared at Hutch for a moment, trying to figure out what was bothering Hutch. The tires squealed as he tore away from the curb, intentionally driving just a little too fast because he knew it annoyed his partner.

Hutch braced himself as the car jerked away from the curb, then looked at Starsky. "Hey, are you ever going to take your driver's test? Because, you know, those licenses that come in the bottom of the cereal box are only good for so long."

Starsky didn't even glance at Hutch, the comment that normally would've seemed at joke was said in a cold way with a hint of malicious on the blonde’s voice. "As if you know anything about good driving."

"Well, I know you're supposed to stay between those lines on the road, there," he said, pointing out the front window. "And, uh, I know this is a fifty zone," he added, glancing at the speedometer.

"Yeah, so?" Starsky commented casually, turning the car quickly unto another road, away from the busy streets. "I'll slow down when you start talking about why you suddenly went into bitch mode."

"What do you mean?" Hutch asked, generally sounding as if he didn't understand where the question was coming from. "Uh, garbagecan!" he added as they sped towards where one had rolled off the curb into the street.

Starsky swerved in time to just barely avoid hitting the garbage can. "You know what I mean, partner."

"Not really," he said mildly. "Do you think you can work up enough vocabulary to explain yourself coherently?"

Starsky scowled, and almost reluctantly slowed the car down to a few miles above the speedlimit. "Why did you start bitching about the case? Is it just cause ... you don't like dealing with the rich 'victims'?"

"I just don't think they should bitch and moan when an amount of money they really won't miss is taken by someone who very likely needs it a hell of a lot more than they do. Why should we waste our time on something like that? That's not a crime. It's a redistribution of wealth. The fabled 'trickle-down effect'."

"You sound like Robin Hood." Starsky teased, in attempts to ease the tension that had been building in the car.

Hutch all but snorted in response. "*I* didn't steal anything."

"Yeah but your whole steal from the rich give to the poor speech, makes you sound like him." Starsky said. "Maybe more then just money was stolen." Starsky suggested.

"Like what?" Hutch said, sounding a bit exasperated. "If anything else was stolen, don't you think Mr. Rolex back there would have reported it? If he doesn't report it, he doesn't get it back."

"I don't know." Starsky said. "What about the glass that was on the floor? Maybe it was something that was broke and he didn't want to say nothing 'bout it ..."

"Why not? Because it wounded a police officer and he didn't want to be implicated in the crime?" he suggested sarcastically.

"How should I know. Just gotta feeling that there’s more to this case then what it seems is all." Starsky said quietly.

"Well, that's good. Go with your gut," Hutch patronized. "Can we eat now?"

"Whatever." Starsky mumbled. "And just where does Mr. High and Mighty want to go?"

"Oh, doesn't matter. I'm just dying for a burger."

"So, we'll go to The Pits."

"Sure, whatever."

Starsky resisted saying anything else, knowing they were just seconds away from a full fledge fight and he didn't feel like fighting with Hutch, he hated fighting with his best friend. So, he sped towards The Pits in silence.

They strode into the Pits, Hutch ahead of Starsky, and found a table. Huggy came over when he spotted them and noticed Starsky's somewhat sour mood right away, though Hutch looked happy enough. "What's wrong, Starsky? Bad day?" he asked.

"Oh, everything's just fine, Hug. Though Robin Hood here is bored of working simple robbery cases." Starsky said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Hutch ignored him. "I'll have a burger with the works, Hug," he said. "And don't skimp on the fries."

Huggy stared at Hutch. "With the works?" he asked.

"That's what I *said*, right?" Hutch asked, a bit of venom seeping into his tone.

Huggy looked at him a bit warily. "Right," he said suspiciously, then turned to Starsky. "What'll you have?"

"Uh ... just some coffee, I'm not really all that hungry." Starsky said, looking just as shocked as Huggy over Hutch's order.

Huggy looked at both of them in mild shock. "Okay, guys, let me know when you trade your bodies back, because this is confusing," he told them, then turned to get their orders.

Hutch watched him go. "What's his problem?"

"Should be asking yourself that question." Starsky mumbled. "You never order a burger with the *works*."

"Well, I'm hungry," he said, as though it was obvious and he couldn't understand why everyone thought it was strange. "If you want to talk about weird behaviour, why aren't *you* eating? *You're* the walking stomach."

"So, I ain't hungry, if I were to start eating your wheat germ and tufo crap, then you should start *worrying*."

"You're right, that shit's disgusting," he said, then noticed Huggy bringing his food over. "Ah," he said, smiling as Huggy sat it down in front of him. "Can you grab me a beer, too, Hug?"

"Sure," Huggy said, still looking at him funny. "You need anything else, Starsky?"

Starsky shook his head, looking at Huggy with the same question in his eyes, grateful that he wasn't the only one who found Hutch's beahivour odd. Starsky's reasons for not eating were clearly visibly, his concern over his friend's behaviour outweighed his own appetite.

Huggy wandered off towards the bar to get the beer.

Hutch picked up his burger and took a huge bite. He held it out to Starsky and, with his mouth full, said "It's good. Wanna bite?"

"I guess." Starsky said tentatively, reaching out to take the burger.

Hutch watched Starsky take a hesitant bite and nodded, then reached for his burger back. "Good, huh?" he said, then took another huge bite.

"Yeah, I've told you that for a long time, though you've never listened."

Hutch furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? I just ordered it all on my own, didn't I?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

Hutch shrugged and shoved some fries into his mouth. "What's with the third degree, anyway? You're spoiling my supper."

"Terribly sorry." Starsky said sarcastically. He reached over, in an unconscious movement to *steal* a couple fries off Hutch's plate.

Hutch grabbed his wrist. "What are you doing? You said you weren't hungry!"

"Geez, it's just a couple fries, you steal 'em off my plate all the time." Starsky said, flinching slightly at how tightly Hutch was gripping his wrist.

Hutch shoved his arm back towards him, and said nothing. He picked up a few fries and put them in his mouth.

"Sorry." Starsky apologized, rubbing his sore wrist. "I swear it's like invasion of the body snatchers." he mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Hutch said sharply, "I didn't catch that." Though it was clear that he had.

"Said, sorry. Hell why don't you just arrest me for trying to steal a couple fires off your plate, that's a crime worthy of your talents."

Hutch smiled, but it was a cold smile. "That was a good one," he said. "Almost witty."

"Hutch ... " Starsky started, pausing as he tried to think of what to say. Instead he just shook his head and stood up and left the table, walking over to the bar.

"Where you going?" he asked innocently as Starsky walked away, but just shrugged and turned back to his food as Starsky kept walking.

Huggy, standing behind the bar, walked over to Starsky as the detective took a seat on one of the stools. "What's up?" he asked. It was definitely not normal for Starsky and Hutch to not be sitting together.

"I don't know, Hug. Something is wrong with Hutch ..." Starsky said, his concern could clearly be heard in his voice. "It's like ... invasion of the body snatchers."

"Yeah, he seemed kinda... surly. When did it start? He wasn't like that last night, I know that much."

"This afternoon. After we investigated a robbery. He started bitching about how it was too petty a crime so we shouldn't bother with it." Starsky explained. "And he seems to be getting worse. Hel,l I kinda thought for a minute that he was gonna break my wrist just 'cause I tried to steal a couple fries off his plate."

Huggy frowned. "That doesn't sound like Hutch at all, my man. And you don't have any idea why he's suddenly acting like this? Nothing happened today that could have... I don't know. Triggered it?"

"Not a single then. Worse thing that happened is he cut his finger on a piece of broken glass ... not like that's never happened before. Nothing happened ... I mean I was there the whole time ..." He didn't finished his line of thought but the question almost seemed to hang in the air in front of him without anything being said.

Huggy looked thoughtful. "What was the broken glass from?" he asked, more out of curiosity than speculation.

"Don't know, it was just on the floor by the safe that was robbed."

Huggy shrugged. "Beats me," he said. "If you want I can keep my ears open and hear what I can hear. Maybe there's something going on. If there is, the word should reach the street soon enough."

"Thanks, Hug."

"No problemo," Huggy said.

Starsky turned on the stool and glanced at Hutch. "I just hope it's nothing serious. Maybe he's just in bad mood because of it all being about a little money stolen from a rich person ... he can be that way, ya know."

Huggy shrugged. "I guess so."

Just then Hutch's voice drifted over. "Uh, bartender? Where's that beer, huh?"

Huggy poured the drink, exchanged a look with Starsky, then took it over to Hutch's table.

"You sure you should be having anything to drink?" Starsky asked Hutch.

Hutch took the glass of beer and frowned at Starsky. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, and took a drink.

"Nothing is the matter with me, whatsamatta with you?"

Hutch put his beer down and took a breath. "Look," he said, as though he were talking to a child of nine, "you're obviously feeling out of sorts tonight. Why don't you go home and I'll grab myself a cab when I'm finished. It's getting late and I don't want to keep you from getting some obviously much-needed rest."

"Anyone ever tell you that you’re a regular laugh a minute."

"Listen, I'm going to let that go because I understand you're cranky. Why don't you run along now?"

"You're the cranky one, partner. So drop the attitude and admit you have a problem."

"You're not helping your situation, Starsky. I'm trying to be understanding, but you're starting to get on my nerves."

"And your *attitude* is getting on my nerves." Starsky said and sauntered back over to the table. He stood next to Hutch's chair. "Just tell me what's wrong." he said and placed a gentle hand on Hutch's shoulder.

Hutch shrugged his hand off and stood up, dropping his napkin onto his mostly-finished plate of food. He picked up his beer and downed the rest, then said "I don't *know* what's wrong with you, but you'd better get over it if this partnership is going to work out," he said and started for the door.

"What the fuck is your problem, Hutchinson?" Starsky questioned sharply, catching up to Hutch in two long strides, and gripping Hutch's arm to stop him from going any further.

Hutch wrenched his arm out of Starsky's grasp and pulled away from him. "You are, evidently. Why do you keep asking me that? There's nothing wrong. I'm going out now. Have a nice night doing... whatever it is you end up doing. See you tomorrow," he told him and strode out the door.

"Damn." Starsky cursed under his breath, turning back to take a seat at the bar.

"He's not in the mood for conversation tonight, huh?" Huggy commented.

"Guess not. Maybe he just needs some time alone to blow off some steam ... I don't know maybe I did something to tick him off and just haven't found out about it myself." Starsky said with a shrug. "Think I will have a beer now, though."

"Sure thing," Huggy said and set it up.

The next day Starsky arrived at Hutch's apartment to pick him for work. He knocked on the tree carved door. "Hey, blondie, c'mon we're gonna be late."

Hutch opened the door and strolled out, car keys in hand. "Speak for yourself," he said as he locked the door behind himself and strode down the hall.

"Uh, Hutch ... what're you talking about?"

He turned around for a second. "I mean if you keep standing there, then, yeah, you *are* going to be late," he said, then kept going.

"Oh." Starsky said, and hurried after Hutch. "How you feeling today, buddy?" he asked cautiously.

"Fine," he said. "Why?" They came out of the building and Hutch walked towards his own beat-up brown LTD.

Starsky glanced at his car, but kept after Hutch. "Because you were a little out of sorts last night."

"*I* was? I think your memory's playing tricks on you," he said with a condescending smile. Then noticed that Starsky had joined him beside his car. "Why are you following me?"

"Because we're *partners*. We work *together*. And that's what we're suppose to be doing now."

"We're not even on the clock yet," Hutch protested. "We'll work together when we get to the police station, okay?" He looked at him over the roof of the car as he came around to the driver's side. "You don't even like my car, anyway."

"So what's that gotta do with anything?"

Hutch just looked at him. "Suit yourself," he finally said. "I guess I should be glad I don't have to look at that thing today," he said nonchalantly with a nod of his head towards the Torino, then opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

Starsky opened the door and quickly got in, even though it wasn't like Hutch's car would start very quickly which lately took several tries, he just wanted to be in the car before Hutch changed his mind.

They drove to the police station in something of a miserable silence. Hutch parked his car in the police garage and they went up to the Squad Room. Starsky followed Hutch close, not sure what, if anything, to say to his partner. He still wondered, and worried, about Hutch's change in attitude. Thinking if Hutch was mad at him about something he would've said something by now. Hutch poured himself a cup of coffee, not offering any to Starsky, and sat down in his chair. He picked up a file on his desk - something related to the robbery of the previous night - glanced at it, then tossed it aside.

"Doesn't matter if you want to work the case of not we have no choice." Starsky said quietly.

Hutch picked up the file. "Then work on it," he said. He made like he was handing it to Starsky, then dropped it in the wastepaper basket. "Oops."

"Oh, real mature, Hutch." Starsky mumbled, picking the file out of the wastepaper basket.

Hutch laughed. "You're one to talk."

Starsky just started at Hutch for moment, then opened the file and 'pretended' to be reading it.

"See what I mean?" Hutch commented. "Is that the pot and the fuckin' kettle or what?"

"At least I'm doin my job." Starsky said, not even looking at Hutch, Hutch last comment had hit him a little harder then he wanted his partner to know.

"Oh yes. We all know what a dedicated career man you are. And the streets *do* need to be protected from the scourge of petty theft. I mean, the nerve of these obviously ruthless and hardened criminals, stealing money from someone who can afford it and not even hurting him to get it! This kind of monstrosity needs to be wiped out!"

"Quit your bitching." Starsky said, his head snapping up to glare at his problem. "So you have a grudge against the rich ... a crime is a *crime* and it should be investigated." He said, his too low for eavesdropping ears to hear.

"Well Robbery is down the hall. You're so keen on everybody doing their jobs - let them do their job! Wake me up when somebody dies," he told him and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet on the desk.

"You want someone to die just so you have something *fun* to do?" Starsky asked incredulously.

"I don't *want* anyone to die. I'm just as happy to sit here with my feet up. I'm on the clock. But I'm *not* a robbery detective so get off my back about that stupid case!" he was shouting by the end of it, oblivious to the uneasy looks of the other officers in the Squad Room.

"So you're being a bitch just because you have to work a robbery case?" Starsky asked, knowing he was pushing his luck but not caring.

"Maybe I'm being a bitch because I'm tired of working with you," he suggested. "You've done nothing but nag my ass since we started with this stupid case. You sound like my ex-wife."

"FUCK YOU, HUTCHINSON!" Starsky yelled at Hutch. "I don't sound nothing like that ... wicked witch. If you don't want to work this case *FINE* go find something more worthy of your talents, like scouring the sewers for a dead body ... I don't really care what you do."

"Good," he said. "That's more like it. See ya." He stood up and walked around the desk to head for the door.

Starsky hung his head and rubbed his temples with the heels of his hands, trying to keep a tight reign on his emotions, at least those that were visible. He cursed under his breath, wishing that he had held his temper longer or that he had forced Hutch to talk about it sooner, when they had some privacy.

The phone on Hutch's desk rang.

Starsky reached over and grabbed the phone. "Starsky here. What the hell do you want?" he snarled.

"Uh, this is the forensics lab... about the samples Sergeant Hutchinson sent last night? Is this a bad time?"

"What samples ... oh the glass. What'd you find out about it?"

"Well, it was laboratory grade, I can tell you that much. Pretty much identical to the glassware we use around here. But that wasn't the really strange thing..." the foresicist's voice trailed off, as though he wasn't quite sure how to explain it.

"What was so strange about it?" Starsky asked, his tone changing from one of anger to one of concern in the blink of an eye.

"Well, we found traces of a... substance on it. We don't know exactly what it is. We can't find any record of a substance quite like this. The sample from the glass shards is very concentrated. It bears a resemblance to a certain variety of mood-altering drugs, but I can't say that that means anything. I don't know how much you know about chemistry, Detective, but one tiny difference in chemical structure could make something another substance's sister or make it its opposite. We're doing more tests on it."

"Mood-altering?" Starsky questioned, as though wanting to verify he had heard correctly.

"Well, it resembles certain mood-altering chemicals," he said. "Like I told you, I can't say that its effects would really be anything like them at all. Why?"

"Because it wasn't long after he cut his finger on that glass that he started acting ... very different, like a pod person or something." Starsky explained. "Could ... whatever the drug was could it ... k-kill him?" he asked quietly, having a momentary flash of a time Hutch was subjected to a different kind of drug.

There was a puzzled silence. "Who are you talking about, Detective? Did somebody cut themselves on this glass?"

"Yeah, Hutch did, he cut his finger when he found the glass." Starsky explained impatiently. "Is it ... p-poisonous ... could this drug kill my partner?"

There was a slightly stunned silence now. "I, um... I don't really know, Detective. Like I said, the sample is very concentrated and very... um... unknown. We're continuing our testing. If I get anything on it, I'll get ahold of you." He sounded like he was going to hang up, but added "I would keep and eye on my partner if I were you." Then he hung up.

Starsky cursed as he hung up the phone. "Sure ... keep an eye on him ... and I sent him away." he criticized himself. He stood up quickly and rushed out the door, determined to find Hutch before anything could happen to him. Knowing he would have to borrow a car since he'd came to work with Hutch.

Hutch strolled into the Pits and looked around. Spotting Huggy, he walked over to the bar and said "I'll have a beer - and try not to take all day about it this time," he said shortly, then went to sit at a table.

Huggy nodded to his back, got the beer for him, then went to the phone and rang the police station hoping to catch Starsky... but Starsky wasn't in. He left a message for him to call the Pits.

After getting a ride to go back to Venice Place to get his car, and checking Hutch's apartment, Starsky set about to find his partner. He decided that the first place to check would be The Pits, if nothing else maybe Huggy would have some useful information for him. He had no way of knowing that Huggy had called him, or that his partner was at the bar.

Starsky parked his red Torino in the back alley and walked into the bar, which was nearly deserted. It was nearly deserted, even if it had been crowded Hutch's pale blond hair would've stood out like a beacon giving him away - to Starsky it always

did. Starsky glanced at Huggy, who stood behind the bar, then strode over to his partner. "Hey, Hutch, we *need* to talk."

"What about," Hutch said disinterestedly, sipping his beer.

"About the shard of glass you cut yourself on yesterday." Starsky said.

Hutch laughed. "Still on about *that*? God, you are a mother hen. It was nothing!"

"There was a highly concentrate chemical found on the glass." Starsky said, unable to keep his worry from his voice. "They don't know what it is - or what it could do to you."

Hutch raised his eyebrows. "What is this? Some kind of joke?"

"It's no joke, Hutch. The lab called right after you left." Starsky explained. "Maybe you should go back there with me ... they could run blood tests and see how this is effecting you." He said, he didn't want to mention how the labtech had said about a mood-altering drug, he knew Hutch well enough to know that Hutch would find the idea of such a drug absurd.

"Affecting me? It's not affecting me, Starsky! Maybe you should get them to run some tests on you. You're the one acting like an inflexible asshole! Could you get off my back for 5 minutes? All you've done for the last half a day is nag, nag, nag. Geez. We *are* an old married couple. Well, guess what? I need some space." He got up to walk away.

Starsky grabbed Hutch's arm before he could take more then two steps. "It is effecting you and you know it." He said in a low voice. "This *drug* could be *deadly* and what are you going to do if the pain sets in to ya and you can't move and there's *no one* to help because you took off for need of space?"

Hutch pushed him away and backed off a couple of steps. "Nice try," he said. "I'll give you credit though - I didn't think you had the imagination to come up with something like this. I'm fine. If that's all you're worried about, then don't. Now, I thought you were tired of my company today. Why can't you stay away from me for half an hour?"

"Hutch, this is serious." Starsky said, he refused to back down when it was Hutch's life that was on the line. "I might be tired of your company when your acting like this, but that doesn't mean I don't ever want your company again ... and if your six feet under ..." Starsky couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

Hutch laughed. "Cry me a river!" he exclaimed, and turned to go.

Starsky grabbed Hutch's arm again. "Damnit, Hutch. Would you just cut the asshole routine and listen to me. This drug could be very dangerous, it could kill you or..."

"Well, I think it would be *my* problem to worry about that, wouldn't you? Not something for my so-called friends to fret about because they won't be able to ride my coat-tails anymore if I kick the bucket. Poor you. Boo-hoo."

"You know better then that." Starsky said. He wanted to point out about a ‘million’ instances of times he'd pulled Hutch's ass outta the fire just to through them in his partner's face. But he knew now wasn't a good time, not that he felt there would ever be a good time to use those times in spite. "Your problem is my problem, it's me and thee."

Hutch leaned into his face. "Not anymore," he said coldly. "I'm tired of carrying you."

"Hutch ..." Starsky said growing impatient with his irrational behaviour. "Just go to the lab, let them run some blood test. Let them make sure you're okay and that this won't kill you ... if you do that much ... I'll back off."

Hutch laughed with incredulity. "You'll back off *now*, when I *tell* you to, or I'll make you! It's that simple."

"Damnit, Hutch." Starsky swore, and struck Hutch across the jaw with a left hook, not hard, just hard enough to hopefully knock some sense into his partner.

Hutch stumbled back from the blow, stopping himself from falling by grabbing a table. He straightened up and rubbed his jaw, smiling ruefully. "Is that all you have, Starsky? You hit like a girl! You wanna start something with me, you'd better have more than that," he told him and lunged at him, striking him hard on the cheekbone with a quick jab.

Starsky stumbled and almost collapse to the floor and would've if he hadn't been standing so close to a pool table. He blinked in shock, the side of his face aching, as he realized his err in provoking Hutch. Starsky took a step forward. "Hutch, just calm down would ya."

"Oh, now you want to wimp out, huh? Start something you couldn't finish, boy?" He stepped forward and shoved Starsky against the pool table roughly.

Starsky was momentarily startled, it wasn't as though he never fought with Hutch before but most those times had been nothing more then sparring matches, or at the most their punches had been restrained even when they fought. He quickly scrambled off the table. "Look, Hutch, I don't want to fight with you." Starsky said, grasping Hutch firmly by the shoulders.

"Well, you probably shouldn't have started it, then," he said in all seriousness, shaking free of his grasp. "Remember that next time," he said, pointing a finger at him as he backed off. He turned and headed for the door, but he kept an eye on Starsky, watching to see if he followed him.

Starsky quickly followed Hutch, he just found him he sure wasn't about to lose sight of him again, not when it could mean his partner's life.

As they walked through the door of the bar onto the sunlit sidewalk, Hutch looked at Starsky over his shoulder. "You're still following me."

"Someone has to look out for you."

"I can look out from me," he said, then looked up to notice the Torino parked at the curb. "Oh, look. It's your silly car."

Starsky rolled his eyes. "At least my car ain't a junk yard reject."

Hutch smirked. "No, it's a parade float from Mars. Tell me, does it look like that so the aliens know who's supposed to take them to our leader when they land?"

"I don't know you tell me." Starsky said, with a small smile. "You’re an alien after all."

Hutch snorted. "I'm not getting into this with you," he said. "I feel fine and whatever you think about my behaviour, I'm sure it's in your head - a product of that over-active imagination that I failed to give you proper credit for. Anyway, you have a ride," he said, gesturing to the Torino, "so go back to work or wherever else you feel like going and maybe I'll see you around," he told him. "Unless I can help it," he added over his shoulder as he walked towards where his own car was pulled up against the curb a little further down the street.

Starsky determined set after Hutch, he grabbed the taller man from behind and pinned him against the car. "Ya can make fun of my car, take your cheap shot and low blows at me ... punch me in face ... anything, but I am not about to leave you, you got that?"

Hutch looked at him, trying to figure him out. "WHY?" he asked. "What's wrong with you?"

"Because you’re my best friend." Starsky said, his tone reflecting the fact that Hutch should have already known that.

"Like I said," Hutch huffed. "What's wrong with you?" He was still being antagonistic, but some of the fire behind it was gone. He shook his head and pulled out of Starsky's grasp, walking a few steps away and standing with his back to his partner.

"Nothing is wrong with me, but there's sure as hell something wrong with you." Starsky said, he stepped up behind Hutch and placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "And I want to know exactly what that is."

"I'm just..." His face was conflicted and it looked for a moment that he might admit that something was wrong, but then his expression hardened again. "Fine," he said. "I'm just fine." He shrugged Starsky's hand off. "Don't touch me."

Starsky determined put his hand back on Hutch's shoulder. "You're not fine, and I'm not backing off."

Hutch spun around quickly and gave Starsky a hard shove. "No?"

Starsky stumbled back a stepped, but quickly recovered from the shove. "No." Starsky said firmly. "I won't back off and there's nothing you can say to make me."

"Then just get in the fucking car!" Hutch shouted, and walked around to the driver's side of the LTD.

Starsky nodded and stepped around the front of the car. Hutch started the engine and sped off as Starsky was about to put his hand on the door handle, leaving him by the side of the road. Starsky cursed under his breath and dashed back to his car and jumped in behind the wheel. The tries squealed, and dust and smoke blew as he sped off after Hutch's car, the speedy red Torino easily catching up to the old LTD. Hutch saw the Torino behind him and rolled his eyes. He hit the breaks hard suddenly, catching Starsky

off-guard.

"SHIT!" Starsky swore, he slammed on the brakes, wanting to avoid hitting Hutch's car from behind at the fast speed he was going. The car swerving as he fought to maintain control. He almost had the fishtailing car under control when a speeding truck, that was heading the other direction, clipped the tail end of the end car sending it into a spin. Starsky car clipped the bumper of Hutch's car then skidded off the road to slammed to a very an abrupt hault against a lamppost, the passenger side door crumpling in. All of which happened in what was little more then a blink of an eye, it was over within seconds, leaving Starsky slumped against the steering wheel, unconscious, with a trail of blood streaming down his temple. Hutch pulled over and glanced back at the Torino. There was no movement in it. He picked up his CB and called the dispatcher, telling her that Sergeant Starsky had had an accident and to send an ambulance to the Torino's location. Then he drove away without glancing back.

Starsky moaned in pain along with consciousness returned. He opened his eyes slowly to find himself in the hospital. "Hutch?" he whispered quietly in a hopeful voice.

Dobey was standing by his bed. "We don't know where Hutch is. We haven't been able to raise him on the radio since he called your accident in. What the hell happened, Starsky? And where's Hutch? Why would he leave the scene? The passenger side of your car was crumpled, I don't see how he could have come away with less severe injuries than

yours..."

"He wasn't in the car. He was in his car ... " Starsky said not wanting to say much about the accident. "There was a chemical on the glass we found at the crime scene yesterday ... Hutch cut his finger on a piece ... don't know what all this drug will do to him."

"Drug? Why don't I know anything about this?" Dobey demanded. "Tell me what exactly is going on!"

"The lab called and I went to find Hutch ... tried to get him to come in for blood work. Needless to say he refused." Starsky said, he moved to sit up, his whole body ached as he did his head worse of all, but he wasn't concerned with his injuries he was concerned about what was (or could be) happening to his partner. "It's had a really bad effect on him ... he's not sick just ... a nasty son of a bitch."

"Is that what that scene in the Squad Room was about? I heard about it from Simms. He said you two had an argument and Hutchinson stormed out. Then you left about 5 minutes later." Dobey regarded Starsky for a moment. "Do you want me to put out an APB for him?"

"I don't want to get too many people involved until I know more about how this drug will effect Hutch." Starsky said, wanting to protect his partner. "I'll have to go ask ... uh ...Harvey Mills, just what was on that glass. He knows a lot more then he let on."

"Starsky, you're in no condition to..."

"He's my partner, Cap." Starsky said slowly climbing out of the bed, everything seemed to spin and he was forced to close his eyes for a moment to gain his equilibrium.

"And he's *my* detective. And so are you. If you go out there and get yourself hurt - or worse - how's that going to help Hutch?" he argued, knowing it was a lost cause. When one was in trouble, no argument in the world could stop the other. He'd known them long enough to understand that. He'd had a partner like that once.

"And what if Hutch gets hurt or *worse*." Starsky said, grabbing the duffel bag that held a change of clothes for him. He smiled gratefully at Dobey knowing his captain had brought it for him.

"Just be careful," Dobey said in the gruffest Captain-tone he could muster. "And let me know when you know something!" he added.

"I’m always careful." Starsky said, smiling at Dobey. He slowly got changed, having to brace one hand against the wall for support at one point. Shooting Dobey a determined look that kept the captain from saying anything. "Now, I guess I just need a car."

Dobey sighed and tossed him his keys. "Take mine," he said. "I'll get a ride back with a black&white." He walked to the door of the room, nodded to a uniformed officer standing outside, then gave Starsky one last hard look before walking out of the room.

Starsky headed out the door then suddenly recalled something Dobey had said that he hadn't picked up on at the time - 'Hutch had radioed the accident in'. It gave him some relief that his partner had done that much at least for him, even if it had been only an act of decency and not one of compassion.

A short while later Starsky arrived at Harvey Mills' place and banged on the door, determined to get the answers he needed to help his partner.

Mills himself answered the door, looking the detective up and down. "Can I help you?" he said suspiciously. Starsky wasn't dressed like the kind of people who generally showed up at his door.

"Yeah, for starters you can tell me what the hell was on that glass that my partner cut his finger on yesterday." Starsky said flashing his badge.

"Oh, you're the policeman from the other night. I remember you now." He stepped back to allow Starsky entrance.

"Just cut to the chase, what was on that glass? And just *what* all will it do to my partner?"

"Um, detective, I believe I already explained to you that I didn't know what that glass was or where it came from."

"BULLSHIT!" Starsky yelled. "It wasn't just your ordinary glass. The lab found a very concentrated amount of a drug on that glass the glass that cut Detective Hutchinson's finger ... and I want to know how this will effect him, other then the change in his behaviour."

"How the hell should *I* know?" Mills responded. "Apart from calling me a liar, you're being a little on the aggressive side, don't you think, Detective? Why don't you leave my house before I have you removed? Or are you forgetting that *I'm* the victim here?"

"Oh, cry me a river you lost a couple thousand dollars ... petty cash to you. We both know you're more concerned with the thieves stealing something other then just money." Starsky said, standing close to Mills, invading the other man's personal space, his dark blue eyes blazing with angry.

"You're right, Detective. It's not the money. It's the principle. However, if anything else *had* been stolen from the safe, don't you think I'd have reported it?"

"Not if you didn't want anyone to know about it. And I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to know about a *unknown* chemical substance that you had kept in that safe."

"Why would I keep something like that in my *home* safe? Hmm? We have labs for experimental chemicals. With big metal cabinets that employees lock at night before they leave. That are checked every hour by security guards who circulate the building. Now get out of my house. If you have nothing to report in my case, you're wasting my time."

"Here's your report Mr. Mills, if *anything* happens to my partner I *will* be back." Starsky threatened.

"Sure, to reap revenge on innocent people. Tell me, how does a soft cop like you get by on the streets?"

"Maybe you'll find out real soon." Starsky said, he turned and stormed out of the house. "Another dead end ... now what?" he asked himself, wondering if he could possibly track Hutch down again - and how injured he'd walk away from another confrontation.

Hutch strode into the Pits again. He liked the atmosphere and he was sure the meddling Starsky must be in the hospital. That was a nasty car-crash. Not exactly the way he'd planned it... call it 'crude but effective'. He walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. After Huggy gave it to him, he started to turn and walk to a table, but turn back to see Huggy reaching for the phone. He moved back to the bar. "Who ya callin'?" he asked.

Huggy blinked at him. It had been a pointed question. "My bookie," Huggy answered. "About the Laker's game tomorrow."

"Really?" Hutch said. "Because I was wondering how Starsky had found me so quickly this afternoon. "

"Hey, man, I did *not* talk to Starsky when you came in here!" Strictly speaking that was true. He was pretty sure that Starsky hadn't even gotten his message, he'd arrived so quickly.

"I see," he said, giving Huggy a warning look before walking over to a table.

Starsky began his search for his once again missing partner, though with little luck. He called Dobey to ask if by some chance Hutch had gone back there, when he received a message to contact Huggy at The Pits. Depositing another dime into the payphone he dialed the number for The Pits, by memory.

"The Pits," Huggy answered. "Proprietor speaking," he added with flourish.

"Well, proprietor, I got a message that you called." Starsky said. "You got somethin' on Hutch for me?"

"Wanna talk about weird twists of fate, Starsky? 'Cause I left that message for you when he was here this afternoon... but as luck would have it, he's in here again! Now, I'm all for you comin' down here and pickin' him up - just don't go all bustin' up the place again, y'dig?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Hug." Starsky said. "And thanks."

"No problem," he answered and hung up. He glanced over at Hutch, but Hutch's back was to him. He'd sat down with a blonde woman and was chatting her up.

Starsky sped as fast as he dared with Dobey's car, knowing he'd have hell to pay if he mucked it up like he did his Torino (which he still cursed himself for doing). He parked Dobey's car behind Hutch's and strode into the bar, he nodded at Huggy, then scanned to find his partner. He saw Hutch sitting with a blonde woman, who didn't seem to interested in Hutch's 'flirting'. Fearing things might get out of hand if Hutch lost his temper with her he quickly strode over to the table. "Hey, sweetheart, thought we had a date tonight." Starsky said, jokingly, to Hutch, with a grin.

Hutch looked up at Starsky and rolled his eyes. "Go away, I'm busy."

"The little lady here obviously ain't interested. Not that I blame her with the way you was talking." Starsky said, and gave the woman a look that told her she could leave now.

Hutch grabbed the front of Starsky's shirt, and the woman took the opportunity to slip away from the table. Hutch noticed and stood up, spinning around into Starsky's face. "Look what you did," he said darkly.

"Hutch, she wasn't interested. She wanted to leave but she was *afraid* of you."

"Afraid of me? She wasn't afraid of me. Until you came along and made her nervous." He looked at Starsky and a strange glint came into his eye. "You're afraid of me, though," he said quietly. "Yes, you are," he added, though he hadn't yet given Starsky the opportunity to refute the fact.

"Just more worried of what you'll do now that you'll regret later on." Starsky said.

"Oh? Like what? Like this?" he asked, giving Starsky a little shove. "Hmmm?" he added, with another shove for emphasis.

Starsky stood his ground. "Knock it off, Hutch."

"Knock what off? Your block?" He grinned at his own joke. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were in the hospital. Are you supposed to be here? How are you feeling?" He gave Starsky a harder shove.

Starsky flinched slightly, he knew he was no condition to get involved in a fight with Hutch, especially Hutch had already proved he had no qualms about hurting him. "I checked myself out."

"I thought the doctor's were supposed to do that?" he said with another grin. "What about your car? You fairly wrapped it around that pole. Haven't I told you that your driving habits would get you in trouble some time? You shouldn't have been going so fast." He shoved Starsky again, this time putting him roughly against a wall.

Starsky grimaced in pain, moaning as he struck the wall. "Hutch ..."

"Mm-hmm?" Hutch asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't do this." Starsky said. "That drug is really doing it's thing on you ... whatever that thing is. Mills refuses to talk ... I need you to work with me to figure out what that drug was. It could be out on the street for all we know. If you won't do it save yourself at least do it to save the next shmuck who gets drugged."

"I don't know what you're blathering about, and I don't really care. It's..." he pulled out his pocket-watch and looked at the time, "just after 5. Our shift is over. I'm going out to..." he noticed a woman walk by - a pretty brunette - and watched her as she passed. "...have some fun," he said absently and started to turn to follow her.

Starsky grabbed Hutch's arm. "If you ain't careful your gonna find yourself sitting in a jail cell. Leave her alone, just deal with me partner."

"I'm through with you, partner," he said. "We're through. You didn't get the message this afternoon? Go look at your car - it's written all over the windshield!"

"And I told you before I'm not backing off. If you want to be rid of me you'll have to kill me that's the *only* way I'd ever leave you, buddy."

"You're some *sick* kind of sap, you know that? That head injury didn't help at all, either. I was kind of hoping it would."

"Damnit, Hutch." Starsky said, sighing in frustration. He didn't need Hutch to remind him of his head injury ... his head was throbbing hard enough on it's on to not let him forget (not to mention dealing with Hutch was giving him an even worse headache).

"Look, be a smart boy and walk away now, okay? Deal with the fact that things have changed between us and it doesn't mean there's some wacky magic chemical floating around on the street. It means circumstances change and people grow apart. That happens. Eventually you'll come to terms with that."

Starsky closed his eyes for a moment, Hutch's words hit him almost as hard as a punch to the gut. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Hutch. "And *what* exactly changed?"

"I don't know. Me. You. I don't remember you being such a..." he stopped mid-sentence, his face suddenly contorted in pain. He put a hand on his stomach and stumbled for a place to sit, but didn't get so far. He collapsed to the floor, doubled over and clutching his stomach.

"Hutch .." Starsky said panickedly and in a second was at his partner's side, sitting next to Hutch, placing a gentle hand against Hutch's shoulder. "You okay?"

Hutch tried to answer, but couldn't speak. He shook his head. His breathing had become quick and ragged. A small whimper involuntarily escaped him as he squirmed in pain.

"Shhh." Starsky said softly, gathering Hutch into his arms so Hutch was practically laying in his lap. "Just take it easy." he whispered, gently stroking the side of Hutch's face with his hand in attempt to soothe his partner. He wondered if he should get Hutch to a doctor - or if a doctor could even help him. He knew it was the drug doing this to Hutch, and not knowing what the drug was meant not knowing what to do to help Hutch.

Huggy ran over. "I called an ambulance, man." He looked down at Hutch, a huddled mess in Starsky's lap. "What's happening to him?" he asked quietly.

"It's the drug ..." Starsky said. "Don't know if it's a side-effect or with-" Starsky found he couldn't even finish that word, not when using it to refer to what a drug was doing to Hutch, not after what Forrest's men had done to Hutch.

Hutch laid a hand on the floor. He was trying to crawl. He was deleriously unaware that Starsky was holding him, yet at the same time, he seemed aware of his partner's presence. "Starsky?" he rasped. It was as quiet as a whisper, but grated. "What's... what's happening to me," he whispered, as his body convulsed with pain.

"It just the unknown dr-chemical doing it's da- making you feel so rotten." Starsky told his partner. "Just try to relax, 'kay?" the whole time he gently stroked the side of Hutch head as though trying to soothe and injured animal.

The medics rushed in and stopped dead when the saw Hutch curled up, squirming and twitching and mumbling. One of them looked at Starsky. "What's, uh... what seems to be the problem?"

Starsky didn't take his eyes off Hutch, how was he suppose to explain this. He knew what the medics were thinking without looking at them - Hutch looked like a junkie going through withdrawals. "My partner *detective* Hutchinson, was exposed to the chemical recently and because it was a small dosage it probably just took this long to ... start to effect him."

"What chemical?" the medic asked skeptically.

"How the fuck should I know?" Starsky snarled, taking his hand away from Hutch's head to pull out his badge and flash it at the medic. "Some stupid chemist had some stupid chemical in his safe and was robbed. The glass was broke and my partner was cut." he explained shortly.

"Oh," the medic said, startled. "Uh, help us get him up on the stretcher, would you?" He suddenly looked very eager to help.

Starsky lifted Hutch up and placed him on the stretcher with any assistance from the medics. Once he had Hutch laid down he gripped Hutch's hand. "You'll be okay." He said, trying to assure both of them with his statement.

Hutch looked at him vaguely, but his eyes were glassy and unfocused. "I didn't mean... " He shut his eyes. "Where we... goin'?" he sighed softly, then slipped into unconsciousness.

"Hospital." Starsky replied needless. For the first time ever Starsky didn't battle with the medics to able to ride with Hutch in the ambulance. He glanced at the two cars and made the only choice there was to make - to follow in Hutch's car.

Hutch woke up to find himself in a hospital room. Light was streaming in the window. Hadn't it been late evening last he remembered? Why was it so light? He looked around, though his head felt heavy, moving it a chore. He noticed Starsky sitting in a nearby chair. For a moment he felt a great swell of relief, but it was replaced very quickly by a deep and oppressive sense of shame as the events of his most recent memory flooded back to him and he recalled all the things he had said and done to his partner... when was it? Yesterday? He had no idea how long he'd been asleep. And why had he said those things to Starsky - his partner - his best friend? He didn't know. He couldn't remember what had possessed him. But he remembered every word of it very clearly. Starsky was flipping through a magazine. Hutch turned his face away again, and looked out the window. If Starsky wasn't talking to him, he didn't want to know.

Starsky glanced up from the magazine, and noticed Hutch's head was turned the other way. "You awake?"

Hutch slowly turned his head back to face Starsky. "Yeah, I guess. For the most part. How long have I been here?" he asked weakly.

"Since about 5:30 last night."

"Oh," he said in acknowledgement. He tried to look at Starsky, but couldn't bring himself to meet his partner's eyes. "You been here the whole time?"

"Pretty much." Starsky said, setting the magazine down on the table, and like Hutch was avoiding his partner's gaze.

Hutch took a breath to say something, but let it out again. He made himself look at his partner. "Starsk, I am so sorry," he said gravely, his voice wavering slightly. He took a shaky breath and tried to control himself. Tried to brace himself for the possible rebuke he may (deservingly) receive in response.

Starsky leaned forward on his chair. "I just want you to answer one thing - did you mean *any* of it?"

"I... I guess I did at the time. I don't feel that way now, though. I don't know why I did then, either. I was... it's like it wasn't real. Like a nightmare or something. I don't even know that I was controlling it at all. But I remember all of it. I remember the words coming out of my mouth." He paused, looked away. "And I remember that you wouldn't leave. No matter what I did, you wouldn't leave." His voice dropped in volume slightly. "If you leave now, I wouldn't blame you. Crisis over. Duty done. But if it means anything to you, you've been a better friend than I deserve."

"Ya know, a simple *no* would've sufficed." Starsky said with a grin. "Besides, you think you can get rid of me that easy? Think again, blondie."

Hutch couldn't help a grin. He turned back to Starsky. "Thank you," he said.

Starsky took Hutch's hand into his and squeezed it gently. "I'm just glad you're feeling better." He said. "And if you really want to thank me you can pay for the damages done to my car." he added jokingly.

"Actually, I feel like shit," he told him with a small smile. "And if you think there's anyway I'm not paying for Tomato repairs, you've got another thing coming. But that's not to thank you. I said that because I wanted to say it. I owe you that much. I said some really terrible things to you. And I could have killed you in that stunt with the car. Any other man would have walked out." He managed a slightly bigger smile. "I knew I loved your persistence for a reason," he added lightly, but not as a joke.

"Hey, I'm just glad to have the Hutch I know and love back." Starsky said, and leaned over the bed to hug his partner. "I really did miss ya, babe." he whispered.

"I missed me too," he answered, burying his face in Starsky's shoulder.

Starsky held on, almost afraid to let go of his friend, afraid if he that he'd some how lose him again to the drug.

"What happened, anyway?" Hutch murmured.

"What'da ya mean?" Starsky asked, pulling back slightly so that he and Hutch were face to face.

"I remember what I did, but I don't know why I did it. Do you? Do you even have an idea? Because it scares the hell out of me, but not nearly as much as the idea of it happening again."

"The glass you cut yourself one had some chemical on it. The lab wasn't sure what it was ... one theory was it might be a mood-altering drug, which seemed to be pretty reasonable. I tried getting answers from Mills ... but that got me nowhere." Starsky explained. "So, don't know if it was just a 'bad mood' drug or a drug that ... just effected your personality."

Hutch rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. "A drug. That's great. I passed out, right? That's why there's a big black spot between the last round of insults I hurled at you and waking up here feeling stupid?"

"Yeah you collapsed at The Pits." Starsky said, not sure if he should mention the withdrawal like symptoms he'd displayed.

"And they don't have *any* idea what it was? Nobody has any fuckin' clue what it was?" He was starting to raise his voice, had begun to shout. "How do they know I'm rid of it!?"

Starsky unconsciously flinched slightly at Hutch's sudden outburst.

Hutch noticed and put a pacifying hand against Starsky's chest. "Sorry," he said much more quietly. "I'm sorry. It's just that, damnit, what if it happens again? What if it's still in me? How am I supposed to live like some kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde freak? Look what I did to you this time! Look what I nearly did! What will happen next time?"

"It's okay, Hutch." Starsky said gently, as he paced a hand against Hutch's cheek. "There won't be a next time. When it set in it really just *set in* and went just the same. There's no trace of it in the bloodwork they did ... they figure because it was a small dose that there's no residual effects." Starsky paused for a moment. "And given how you ... were before passing out .. I'd say you ... kicked it."

Hutch winced at Starsky's choice of words. He nodded. "They're pretty sure it's gone," he confirmed.

"Sorry." Starsky apologized sincerely, regretting his choice of words. "I'd say it is gone."

"I don't remember it, you know," he said quietly. "What I was like before I passed out. I remember... talking to you," he said diplomatically. "Then nothing. Was it really that bad?"

"Yeah." Starsky said sadly. "Ya really had me scared there for a minute, Blintz."

Hutch absorbed this, then said thoughtfully, "Do you think that was because of... before?"

"No. It's two very different things." Starsky said, though in a way they were similar the shaking torment or withdrawal and the verbal abuse Hutch was tossed at him -- through it all Starsky had stayed by his best friend's side, ever supportive.

Hutch nodded. "I don't know that that's true," he said with a small rueful smile, "but it's nice of you to say it."

"Well, if you're feeling up to it let's blow this joint. Go ask Mills some questions maybe."

Hutch nodded and threw back the blankets.

Starsky was walking a few feet behind Hutch as they walked out of the hospital, thinking about things Hutch had said, not only before his collapse but when he awoke. He was almost too lost in his own thought to pay much attention to where he was walking, following Hutch's movement's with little thought (after so many years together it required none).

When Hutch came to a stop beside the passenger door of his car, Starsky did as well. He seemed distracted. Hutch cleared his throat awkwardly. "I, um... I thought maybe you could drive. I'm not really feeling... up to it," he said.

"You sure you want me driving your car?" Starsky said. "Aren't you afraid I'll wrap it around a pole?" he added sarcastically, with little, or no, thought.

Hutch struggled not to look as stricken as he felt at the remark, but failed miserably. He tried to hide it by turning away, but felt stupid. Who was he trying to kid? He looked around quickly, looking lost, not knowing what to do or say. Then, without saying anything, he opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. Starsky walked around the car and climbed in behind the wheel, he felt bad about the comment he had made, but said nothing to take the words back. The one thing Hutch had said that bothered him the most was that, he meant what he said, at the time, but just hadn't meant to say it. And, the dark haired detective couldn't help but wonder if Hutch really meant those things but had always been too polite before to say anything. Did the drug change his personality or just his mood? Did it change his view or just make him willing to tell what he thought of as the nasty truth?

They drove in silence for a while. "You are mad," Hutch said quietly after a time. "You're mad at me."

"And why would I be mad?"

"Because of what I said. Before. When that stuff was in me. It hurt your feelings and now you're mad."

"I'm not mad." Starsky said, which was for the most part 'hurt' was a better word to describe how he felt.

Hutch nodded sullenly. "I don't... that's not how I feel, you know. How many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't *me* talking? How many times do I have to ask you to..." His voice trailed off. He struggled to control himself a moment, then finished his sentence in a whisper. "... forgive me?"

"I know it wasn't it you." Starsky said, bring the car to a stop in front of Mills' place and turned slightly on the seat to face Hutch.

Hutch couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. He stared at his hands.

"Did you actually mean any of it? Don't give crap about 'meaning it at the time', just tell me if you meant it ... "

"Of course not, Starsky!" Hutch practically yelled. "If I had such a fundamental lack of respect for you, why would I spend all my time with you?"

"Because normally you’re in a better mood ... how the hell should I know. Maybe, you meant it and jus' didn't mean to say it. That that dr- that it just let you say the cold hard truth." Starsky said and turned away from Hutch to stare out the side window.

"I remember every single thing I said, Starsk," Hutch told him quietly. He turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "None of it was the truth."

"Hutch ..." Starsky said, turning back to face his partner once again. "I just ..." Starsky stammered as he tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. He looked into the light blue eyes of best friend, as though searching for the answers to his questions, searching for things words could never say. He laid his hand on Hutch's shoulder. "I know it wasn't you ... I forgive ya, buddy."

"Thank you," Hutch said, giving Starsky's shoulder a squeeze. "Can we get the bad guy now?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Let's go get the turkey."

They walked up to the door and Hutch raised his hand to knock, seemed to reconsider, then stepped back and kicked the door open.

"Effective." Starsky said, smiling at his partner, before striding inside. "Knock, knock!"

Mills rushed into the front hall to find the two detectives walking through the forced front door. "What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed. "I'm calling the police commissioner!"

"Call your lawyer while you're at it," Hutch told him. This seemed to give Mills pause. Thus encouraged, Hutch continued. "See, we found the little scumbags that robbed your place," he lied, "and they gave *us* the rest of the vials of that stuff they stole out of the safe. Apparently, they couldn't get anything for them on the street anyway."

"Wasn't worth nothing to them. Though, it should be worth a few years too you." Starsky said coldly.

"Look, I can't be held responsible for this officer's carelessness! Those vials were locked up for a reason. That substance is highly experimental! There's nothing illegal about chemistry!" Mills blustered.

"Except when you lie about it." Starsky said.

"Ours is a competitive field, Detective. Industrial espionage is rampant. That's why I couldn't keep the samples in the office. If those street-punks knew the real value of what they had, they'd have never given it to you!"

"Value?" Starsky intoned with disgust. He stalked towards Mills, shoving the older man roughly against the wall. "What the hell 'value' is there in fucking with someone's life?"

Hutch laid a hand on Starsky's arm to calm him a bit, but made no move to pull him off of Mills.

"I did *not* dose Detective Hutchinson. He was careless, cut himself on a strange piece of glass. If he had gotten tetanus from it, you wouldn't be blaming me!" He looked at Hutch pointedly. "You should be more careful around a crimescene."

Starsky's eyes were ablaze with anger, he shrugged off Hutch's light, while his grip on Mills' shoulders tightened.

"And you should've been honest in the first place." Starsky growled.

"I knew your partner was in no real danger!" Mills protested. "Why should I risk the confidentiality of this endeavour for nothing? My company has invested a lot of time and money in this thing. I'll be damned if I'm going to throw that away because some city cop is being a little moody for a couple of days."

Starsky pulled Mills away from the wall slightly, only to slam him back against it even harder then before. "You have no idea of the danger." Another slam against the wall. "You talk like this was all some fucking lab experiment." again the statement punctuated by another slam against the wall. "All some fucking game."

Hutch gripped his partner's shoulder a little more firmly. "Starsk..."

"An experiment? If it was such, it was accidental. It certainly wasn't a game. I take all of this very seriously. We're still working on that substance you found. It isn't even ready for primate experiments yet, much less for a human one. But, as I said, we

have much invested in it. What would it take for you to return it and pretend that none of this ever happened?"

Hutch turned his gaze away from the man Starsky had pinned to the wall. The executive's odious businessman's ethic sickened him. But he kept a firm hand on Starsky's arm, just to remind him that he was there and to lend his silent support.

Starsky glanced at Hutch for brief moment, even though they didn't have the 'drug' it seemed like such a tempting offer, to be able to just deny any of it ever happened, but still there was only one choice to be made. He turned back to Mills. "We don't make deals."

"You know you have nothing to arrest me on, Sergeant," Mills growled. "If you aren't interested in my offer, then leave my house. You'll be hearing from my attorney!"

"Just a second there, Mills," Hutch said, speaking for the first time since the impromptu interrogation began. "We do have you for obstructing justice. You may have a fancy mouthpiece who can get you off of that, but it's enough to hold you until we can

establish the legality of holding experimental substances in your home. There may be other charges as well, who knows?" He looked at Starsky. "Would you care to read this high-class scumbag his rights, partner?"

"My pleasure..." Starsky said and read Mills his rights. Relieved that they could finally close this ‘less the boring’ robbery case.

~ The End ~