"Still for all the men that you condemn I hope there's some kind of heaven and there's got to be some kind of hell for you." -Piranha Pool by: Blue Rodeo-

Starsky moved through the crowded bar, taking a seat at one of the empty stools at the bar. Hutch had just left, with a pretty blonde he had met that night, leaving Starsky there alone. He ordered a beer, thinking how tonight just wasn't turning out to be his night. They had met two girls, but both had been interested in Hutch, both going for that tall blond 'god' look - rather then the tall, dark, handsome man. He glanced around the bar, seeing someone new (and not to mention beautiful). He picked up his beer and slowly sauntered over towards her.

"Buy you a drink, pretty lady?" Starsky asked, his voice low and seductive, noting she was just finishing her drink.

Elizabeth looked up at the man who had spoken. He was handsome, with bright blue eyes and dark curly hair. She let him see her eyes wander down his fit, compact body and back up to his face. "I always let good-looking men buy me *one* drink at least," she told him, indicating the empty barstool next to her with her eyes. "It's sort of like a personal policy."

"That's a good policy." Starsky said with a grin, as he sat down on the stool next to her.

"So what's your name?" she asked, popping a pretzel stick into her mouth from the bowl on the table. "Or is that too personal a question to open with?"

"Dave." He told her and grin. "And what's your name sweetheart?"

"Elizabeth. Liz, if you like." She picked up her drink and drained the last of it. "And I'll have another glass of white wine," she said. "In case you were thinking of ordering those drinks anytime soon."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful lady." Starsky said, smiling at her, then waving down the bartender to order a refill on their drinks.

She smiled a bit. "You're an absolute font of cheesy old lines," she said, but not unkindly. "I bet you're one of those men who understands that women don't fall for lines *anyway*, so you don't bother thinking up clever ones." She looked him up and down again. "I'm sure you save your energy for... other things."

Starsky grinned brightly. "So, Liz, you think you have me all figured out?" he questioned. "And, schwtheart, you got me figured right."

"I'm sure," she commented, picking up her glass as the bartender placed it in front of her. She took a sip. "You don't sound local," she said. "You're from New York?"

"’From’ New York, but have lived here for quite a while, just never lost the accent I guess." Starsky said. "And where would you be from?"

"Minnesota," she said casually. "I've only been in town since this afternoon, so compared to you I'm a raw tourist, I guess."

"I'd be more then happy to so you the sights." Starsky offered. The offer sincere and not sounding like the only sight he'd show her was his bedroom.

She looked at him for the first time like he wasn't a complete lounge lizard. "I believe I'd like that," she told him.

Starsky finished the end of his beer. "Ready whenever you are, Liz."

She looked at him a moment. Seemed to be assessing him. She picked up her glass, drained it, then placed it carefully on the bar. "Let's go then. I hate these places anyway." She offered him her hand to take.

Starsky took her hand gently, and led her out of the bar to where his car was parked. Waiting for her reaction to the flashy paintjob, he often got mixed reactions about his car (striped tomato as Hutch called it) and he wondered what her opinion would be.

"This your car?" she said non-commitally.

"That it would be." Starsky said with a grin (no matter what anyone said he loved his car).

"Nice," she said smoothly. "Are you going to open the door for a lady?"

"Of course." Starsky said, and opened the door, in a slightly overly showy gesture. "You're carriage awaits, my lady."

She smiled at him and got into the car, laying her handbag across her lap. Starsky jogged around the car and slid in behind the wheel. He started the car, wondering what she'd like to see first. She seemed a little more classy then most of the women he dated, her clothes looked like expensive designers, but he didn't allow that to deter him, after all there was something so familiar seeming about her that he really wanted to get to know her.

"So, my fine handsome tourguide, where are we going first?" she asked, a slightly teasing smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "I don't think too many of the local tourist traps are open at this time of the night..." she looked at her delicate gold watch. "12:45. No, I would say definitely not."

"Most of them are not worth going to, even when they are open." Starsky said, and smiled at her. "The beach is always a good sight to see though."

Starsky slid his arm around to rest on the seat behind her, driving with one hand on the wheel (typical Starsky fashion) and headed for one of the nicest beaches that he knew. The beach wasn't very far from Hutch's place in Venice, and they had often gone on double dates there.

The full moon hung over the water, it reflection shimmering as the water lapped against the shore; grains of sand catching the light and sparkling like tiny diamonds along the beach. "Want to go for a walk?" she asked him.

"Sounds like a good idea." Starsky said. He slid out of the car and walked around to open her door, extending a hand to her to help her out.

Once he'd pulled her to her feet, she allowed her hand to stay in his, and they wandered slowly down the beach.

They walked slowly along the beach hand in hand, only Starsky wasn't looking at the ocean, he only had eyes for Liz. Her long blond hair seemed to glow in the bright moonlight. He stopped walking and turned slightly to gather her into his arms. Starsky stared intently into her blue-green eyes, becoming transfixed in their depth feeling as though he were almost drowning in her eyes. She let him hold her for a moment and slid a hand around his collar. She was about the same height as he was, and returned his intense gaze. She leaned in, then, and kissed him - hesitantly at first, as though she weren't sure how he would react - then more urgently, melting into him. Starsky pulled her a little closer, returning the kiss with a fiery passion, his hands lightly caressing her back.

When they finally pulled apart, she looked at him almost shyly, and kind of bit her lip. "David, I'm going to ask you a favour and I don't want you to take it the wrong way. I would really like to see you again, but would you mind taking me back to my hotel? I'm afraid if this night lasts any longer, we might do something that we might... I mean, it's not that I don't *want* to, but I think it's a little..." her voice trailed off.

"If that's what you want." Starsky said. Even though it wasn't what he wanted, he wanted to stay there on the beach and just hold her in his arms, even if they did nothing else - he just wanted to be with her.

"It is," she told him, her cool slyness suddenly replaced with a girlishness that hadn't been evident before. "But I mean it when I say I'd like to see you again. I really do."

Starsky smiled. "And I really like to see you again. In fact ... I'd rather to not stop seeing you *now*."

She smiled. "Part of me feels the same way. But my rational half knows I need to take a breather, so to speak, before I get carried away. I'm sure you understand."

Starsky nodded slightly. "Yeah, I understand." it was only half way a lie, in a way he understood even though he didn't want to stop to take a breath himself - it was love at first sight.

"Thanks," she said, placing a hand lightly against his cheek for a moment, then turning and heading for the car.

"What hotel are you staying at?" Starsky asked.

"The Alexandra," she told him.

Starsky knew the place it was one the most expensive hotels in the area, the only time he had even been inside it was when he was working on a case. "Nice place. A little overpriced but nice."

"You get what you pay for," she said. "Do you travel a lot?"

"Nah. Most travelling I did was when I moved out here."

"I travel all the time. One thing you'll find if you travel a lot is that, when you're away from home for long periods of time, nothing less than a five-star hotel will be comfortable."

"I guess it all depends on who you're travelling with." Starsky said with a grin.

She raised an eyebrow. "Be careful, David. That sounds an awful lot like an invitation."

Starsky grinned brightly, his blue eyes shinning almost playfully. "Maybe it is." he teased.

She smiled at him. "Be careful what you wish for," she said seductively, leaning towards him.

"I'm always careful."

"I'm sure," she said. They pulled up in front of the Alexandra and she got out of the car, not waiting for him to get out and open her door. She walked around to his side and leaned in the window. "Call me tomorrow. If I'm not in, leave a message. Just ask for Elizabeth Hutchinson," she told him, then turned and strode into the hotel before he could respond.

Starsky blinked. "What a strange coincidence." he thought, through shrugging it off as just that a *coincidence* figuring it'd be something that he and Hutch could laugh about tomorrow.

The next morning, Ken Hutchinson sat at his desk sipping coffee and reading the paper while he waited for his partner to arrive. Starsky was full of *bounce* by the time he arrived at work the next morning. He was feeling good he had got a good nights sleep (a rare occurrence) and was busily daydreaming about the *angel* he had met last night. He poured himself a coffee and sat down at his desk.

Hutch looked up from the paper as Starsky sat down. "What are you grinning about?" he asked with mild interest as he let his eyes flutter back down to the newspaper.

"Because I met the most wonderful lady last night, after you took off of course."

"Oh? Lucky you," Hutch said absently.

"That's exactly what I thought." Starsky said happily. Hutch's lack of enthusiasm didn't bother him, Hutch never acted interested (though he usually was - just as Starsky was interested about and lady that his partner fell in love with). "Ya should see her ... she's ... an absolute angel ... beautiful blonde hair, like yours, only nicer." he teased.

Hutch looked up long enough to give him The Look, then went back to reading the paper. "She sounds like a dream," he said, almost sincerely before shooting the zinger. "Are you sure you were awake?"

"If I wasn't I want to go back to sleep, forever." Starsky said, jokingly a multi watt grin spread across his face. "Ya want to hear the ... *funniest* thing about it?"

"What's that?" Hutch said half-interestedly, not even bothering to look up this time.

"Her last name's the same as yours, Hutchinson. Heck, she's even from Minnesota."

"Yeah, well, our forefathers sort of went forth and multiplied when they got there, y'know?" Hutch said with a smirk.

Starsky grinned. "Yeah only she's a whole lot prettier then you." he teased, finally deciding to share the name of the girl he had met. "Elizabeth Hutchinson."

Hutchinson looked up sharply, almost choking on his coffee. "You what?" he spluttered. "*What* did you say her name was?"

Starsky looked shocked by his partner's sudden outburst - and first real interest in the conversation. "Elizabeth."

"What did she look like?" he pressed. "Where did you meet her?"

"Why the sudden interest?" Starsky wonder. "I told ya I met her at the bar after you left. She was 5'8, long blonde hair, blue-green eyes ..."

Hutch dropped his face into his hands. "Do you know where she's staying?" he asked wearily.

"What's it to you?" Starsky asked, annoyed by Hutch's *over* interest.

Hutch looked at him, suddenly hating this conversation *a lot*. "She's my sister," he said. "That's what it is to me." He sighed. "I didn't even know she was in town." He looked at his partner imploringly. "Where is she staying?"

"Your sister?" Starsky asked, almost in disbelief.

"Yep," Hutch confirmed. "My baby sister." He snorted. "Baby," he said, with contempt for his own choice of words. "She's thirty years old."

"No kidding." Starsky said, his former good mood fading.

"So where did you say she was staying?" Hutch asked, not allowing Starsky to avoid the question for long.

"I didn't." Starsky said, his eyes appearing to be even darker then their normal deep blue, he debated not telling Hutch at all but the thought was short lived, after all Hutch would find out sooner or later. "Alexandra."

"Thank you," he said, picking up the phone.

Starsky mumbled something under his breath and walked away as though he was going to get something to eat from the candy machine.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. "Alexandra Hotel, Debbie speaking, how may I direct your call?"

"Put me through to Elizabeth Hutchinson, please." he said.

Elizabeth answered the phone on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Lizzie?"

"Kenny ..." her voice trailed off for a brief a moment. "How did you find out I was here?"

"Oh, a little bird told me. The question is, why didn't *you* tell me? Would it have killed you to pick up the phone?"

"The question should be why *should* I have told you?" She questioned back.

"I haven't seen you in... I don't know how many years. Do we have to do this??"

"I'm not the one who started it, dear brother."

"Lizzie, will you meet me for lunch or something? We need to talk."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?"

"Lizzie, don't play your game of technical truths with me. You picked up last night and we really need to talk." He lowered his voice slightly through the last sentence, to make sure Starsky didn't hear him.

"Okay, Kenny. We'll have lunch, we'll talk."

"Okay," Hutch said, appeased. "How are you doing, anyway? Are you taking care of yourself?"

"I always take care of myself, you know that."

"Yeah," Hutch agreed flatly. "You always do. I'll see you at lunch. I'll pick you up at 1 o'clock."

"Bye now." She said, in fake sweetness, and hung up the phone, ending the conversation - at least until 1 o'clock.

Hutch dropped the receiver back into the cradle and stared at the far wall. Starsky moved to sit down on his chair, allowing his presence to be known, and stared at his partner.

Hutch looked at him glumly. "What?"

"Have a *nice* talk with your sister?"

"Oh, we *always* have nice talks. Our relationship's very civilized." He stopped. "What are you looking at me like that for?" he said defensively.

"Like *what*?' Starsky asked with feigned innocence.

"Like I just ran over your dog!" Hutch said.

"I don't have a dog." Starsky retorted.

"Starsky, don't *you* start with me. I just had an earful of *her* smart mouth, okay?"

"Oh, terribly sorry." Starsky said sarcastically. "Though you did start *first*."

"Yeah, I seem to be the instigator all over today," Hutch muttered. He slouched in his chair. "Well, just forget it, okay? Forget it."

"And just *what* is it you want me to forget?"

"This conversation. My nice talk with my sister." He looked at him pleadingly. "And my sister, if you're smart." He hated himself for saying it, because he knew how it sounded. It wasn't what he meant. He braced himself for the outburst.

"Oh? And why's that, huh, partner? If I don't *forget* her you'll *make* me forget her, is that it? Well, buddy, you always say how I'm not *smart* ..." Starsky said, his voice almost dangerously low as though he was speaking to a suspect and not his partner.

"Starsky, my *God*, will you please calm down..." he glanced around to see the other officers in the Squad Room looking over. He was pretty sure they couldn't make out the conversation - they were keeping their voices low - but the body language and tone didn't exactly indicate a friendly conversation. "I'm only thinking of you, friend, YOU. You don't *know* her! You don't know what she's like and what she *does* to men..."

"Oh, *sure* you're thinking of me. I think I got a pretty good idea of what she's like last night." Starsky narrowed his eyes at his partner. "Why don't you just say it like it is? We both know what you are really *thinking* here."

"What am I *thinking* Starsky? Hmm?"

"Almost the same thing you used to think ... only now it's more then just *a street punk from New York* not being good enough to speak to ... it's a *street punk from New York* is not good enough for your sister."

Hutch shut his eyes. "Starsk, you know better than that," he whispered sadly. "Please..."

"Please, what? Huh, Hutch?" Starsky questioned persistently. "Just what all did you tell your sister to warn her away from me, huh?"

"I didn't even mention you, Starsky. I didn't tell her that I know you. I didn't tell her to stay away from you." He rested his head in his hand. "She wouldn't listen to me anyway."

"Well, guess that makes two, now doesn't it? Because I'm not about to listen to you tell me to back off."

"Okay, fine. Just..." He bit off what he was about to say, and looked right into his partner's eyes. "I was about to tell you not to come crying to me when she rips your heart out of your chest and stomps on it, but I changed my mind. When she's finished with you, I'll still be here... if you ever want anything to do with a Hutchinson ever again." He stood and picked up his coat.

Starsky sat angrily watching his partner, his dark eyes spoke volumes. Angry that his partner was trying so hard to keep him away from his sister. "Yeah, well maybe I'll only want anything to do with *one* Hutchinson after all this." he said nastily and it was obvious from his tone that he wasn't referring to Hutch.

Hutch shrugged. "Maybe. But we don't always get what we want." He walked out. It wasn't lost on him that Starsky hadn't asked where he was going.

Starsky watched Hutch leave, not really caring where his partner was going, though assuming he was going to talk to Elizabeth. For a brief moment he debated following him, but decided against it. He began to look over files, *pretending* to work.

Hutch pulled up in front of the Alexandra and walked into the lobby at 1 o'clock on the nose. He looked around and saw Elizabeth sitting in a plush chair near the fireplace. She was looking at him. He walked over to her. "Liz."

"Hello, Ken." she greeted him and took a sip of her white wine.

"Bit early for that, don't you think?" he said, indicating her drink. "You haven't even had lunch yet."

"It's never to early for a drink."

"Well, let's go, shall we?" he asked, making a sweeping gesture towards the door with his arm.

She finished the drink and set the glass down. She stood up and headed for the door.

Hutch walked around to the driver's side of his car and looked up to see her standing in front of the passenger door with her arms crossed. "It's not locked," he said pointedly.

"You expect me to get into *that* .... that *thing*?"

"I didn't ask you to like it. Just get in."

Liz opened the door cautiously as though she was afraid to even touch it. She crinkled up her nose as she climbed in.

Hutch gave her a look. "I'm sorry it doesn't live up to your aesthetic standards," he said, not sounding very sorry at all.

"That's putting it mildly."

Hutch started the car and drive to a posh restaurant about five minutes away from the hotel. They went in, got a table and ordered drinks.

"So, brother? What is it exactly that you want?"

"You still don't beat around the bush. That's good, because I don't plan to either." He let his gaze flit down to the table a moment, then raised his eyes back to meet hers. "You met a man last night."

"Yeah, maybe I did. I meet a lot of men."

"Then let me be more specific," Hutch said, consciously controlling the level of his voice. Everyone was out to try his patience today. "You met a man named David last night."

Liz grinned, an almost predatory grin. "I believe that was his name."

"Well I would very much appreciate it if you found a different toy to play with. I *know* it's all the same to *you*."

"And why should I? What's the difference to you?" She asked grinned wickedly. "Is he your lover or something?"

Hutch smiled ruefully at the jibe. "Nice way for a lady to talk," he commented. "The man is a friend of mine. He doesn't know what you're like, but you and I - we know. You don't need this one, Liz. There are plenty of them out there."

Her grinned turned even more predatory, her eyes sparkled, this made things even more fun for her. "A friend? Was ... I mean, is he?"

Hutch gritted his teeth. "Listen to me very carefully," he whispered. "If you hurt him, I'll kill you - even if I lose him forever because of it. Do you hear me?"

"Now, is that anyway to talk to your sister?" Liz said, smiling at her older brother's agitation.

"Liz, I'm deadly serious. End this *now*. Before it goes too far. I'll beg you if I have to, but I *mean* it!"

"You can beg all you want. It won't change my mind." Liz told him, rather enjoying toying with her brother.

"But *why*? Liz, I know you love this. You like watching me squirm you like walking on people's souls, but can't you let just this *one* go? Why do you want him so badly? Why can't you do me just *one* favour in your whole useless life?"

"I want him because I can have him …quite easily." Liz said, her eyes flashing with anger. "And since you put it *that* way I am not about to back off."

"Lizzie," he said, gently now. "I didn't want to bring it up, I didn't want it to be this way, but remember when you were 13 and Donny Waterson got you behind the bleachers and he... hurt you," he said with difficulty. "I took care of him for you, Lizzie. I snuck you some clothes so Mom and Dad wouldn't ask what happened. And I never told them, because you begged me not to." He looked hard at her. "I know you do what you do now to pay men back, in a way. I can understand that. But David never did anything to you. He's nothing to you. But he's important to me. I'm calling in that favour, Lizzie. You

owe me one and I want it now."

"No." She refused flatly. "I don't owe you anything, *brother.* You can't tell me who I can, and who I can't be with. Besides that ... he's *fun*."

Hutch looked at his sister coldly. "Then there's nothing more to say," he said. "I'm sure someone will call you a cab when you're ready to go back to your hotel.... ma'am." He got up and strode out of the restaurant. He'd exhausted his resources. The favour she owed him was his last resort. He'd saved until he thought it was the only thing she'd listen to. He hadn't realized that she'd come so far that it was too late even for that. All he could do now was wait... and then pick up the pieces. He got into his car and drove back to the precinct.

Starsky glanced up when his partner came over to the desk. He glared at Hutch coldly for a minute then turned back to what he had been doing without comment.

Hutch sat down. He placed a small white paper bag on the desk infront of Starsky. "A peace offering," he said simply, then picked up some reports from his desk and started looking through them.

Starsky glanced at the bag then at Hutch, the anger in his eyes dissolving as he found it hard to stay angry at his partner. He snatched the bag quickly (as though Hutch might change his mind) and quickly pulled out the donut (not just any it was his favourite). "Thanks." he said before starting to scarf it down as though he hadn't eaten in days.

Hutch smiled, but a little sadly. "Don't mention it," he said softly.

Starsky finished eating and sat back in his chair, looking at Hutch quietly. Despite the fact they had a fight before Hutch left Starsky wondered if there was more behind the *peace offering*. Hutch looked away from Starsky's glance uneasily and turned to the pretense of the papers on his desk. He shuffled them a little aimlessly, glanced over the top one. Starsky wasn't sure of what, if anything, to say to his friend. He wanted to ask about Hutch's talk with his sister but doubted that was a very good idea. After a long moment of silence he finally spoke. "So ... how was your night?"

Hutch snorted. "Disaster," he said. "From start to finish. We went to get something to eat after we left the disco and there was the kid working behind the counter. Couldn't have been more than 20 years old. He was just getting off work. She ended up taking off with him in this big ugly green car with fins on the back."

"Well, ya know if you got a *nicer* car that wouldn't happen." Starsky teased.

"I have a perfectly nice car!" Hutch said indignantly. "And what can *you* say about it! *You* gave it to me..." he'd been enjoying their little teasing session, but his voice trailed off awkwardly. He hadn't gotten anywhere with his sister, and in his failure to do so, he'd failed Starsky. The car that Hutch drove was given to him by Starsky to replace the one that he'd been driving when he was run off the road by a would-be assassin. Starsky hadn't failed him then. Hutch looked at Starsky and shrugged self-consciously. "Sorry," he said, as though he'd been referring to his comment.

"Oh *sure* blame it on my moment of weakness to be nice enough to replace the glorious Hutchmoblie." Starsky said with a grin, shrugging off Hutch's apology.

Hutch smiled. "I appreciated it," he said quietly.

"Well, you did sorta help get mine after all …" Starsky commented almost too quietly for Hutch to even hear.

Hutch looked over at the paperwork littering Starsky's desk. "What were you working on?"

"Nothing too important." Starsky paused. "Ya know there's no keeping count, right?" he asked, almost nervously. He hadn't replaced Hutch's car as favour - he replaced it because he wanted to. Though suddenly felt unsure if Hutch was keeping score.

Hutch looked sort of startled. "I know," he said, in the way that somebody acknowledges a commonly known fact. Then he seemed to suddenly realize what Starsky was getting at. "Starsk, I didn't mean..."

"Yeah." Starsky said distractedly, still almost waiting for Hutch to try to call a favour to use to stop him from dating his sister.

Hutch sat back in his chair. "How did this conversation get here?" he asked, almost to himself. He stood up, picked up his coffee mug and walked around the desk to fill it. "You want one?" he asked over his shoulder.

"No." Starsky said, wondering the same thing Hutch was, even trying to avoid getting into another fight it had just seemed to start happening. "Just being sure you don't go calling in favours on me to try to make me stay away from your sister. You might not think I'm good enough for her just because of the *class* difference ... but it's not your decision."

Hutch put down the coffeepot so hard, it almost shattered. He spun around. "I would *never* do that to you!" he hissed vehemently, ignoring the looks he got from other officers in the area.

"Never know." Starsky said flatly, glaring at some of the gawking officers, he knew this wasn't a place to start a fight - but he didn't care.

Hutch stepped over to Starsky's desk, bent over and leaned in close to him. "Take her," he whispered. "Get whatever you want from her. Get what you deserve from her. I hope you're very happy. But when it's over, when it's all the same as it always is, I won't say I told you so. Just remember to be careful what you wish for." He stood up, took his coat and left.

Starsky cursed under his breath, glaring after his partner's retreating form, thinking for a moment how Hutch wasn't the first Hutchinson (in the past few hours) to tell him that. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down before picking up the phone to call Elizabeth.

"Hey there, schwtheart." Starsky greeted her cheerfully.

"Well *hello*!" she said, infinitely more cheerful than she had been a moment before. "I was afraid you weren't going to call!" she lied. If he wasn't, than her brother would have had no reason to try to talk *her* away from it.

"Now, why would I do a silly thing like that?" Starsky asked jokingly. Thinking at least she seemed happy to hear his voice so Hutch couldn't have said too many *bad* things to try to deter her.

"So, good-lookin', what are we doing tonight?" she said coyly.

"Anything your heart desires."

"Well, *that* sounds promising. Why don't you come by around 8 o'clock?"

"8 it is then."

"And David?"

"Yeah?"

"Just come on upstairs. It's room 907."

"Sure thing, darling."

"See you then," she breathed, and hung up the phone.

Starsky finished worked (well without actually ever doing much work). He rummaged through his closest trying to find something fitting to wear. Nothing seemed good enough as he pulled it out, tossing it haphazardly onto the bed, criticizing himself for being too picky.

Hutch took a deep breath, then raised his fist and knocked on Starsky's door. Even if he was there, did he expect him to open the door for him? Maybe. Even if he wouldn't, he had to come here. This couldn't go on in this way. There were too many misconceptions involved.

Starsky moved to answer the door, frowning when he saw Hutch. "What'da ya want?"

"To talk. I know you're probably busy, but we need to talk." He looked away, unable to offer the alternative while looking his partner in the eye. "Or you can tell me to take a hike and I will."

Starsky seemed to debated both the options that Hutch had laid out before him. After what felt like several minutes, though was really only seconds, Starsky moved away from the open door giving wordless permission for Hutch to enter.

Hutch stepped into the apartment a little way, and stood with his back to Starsky, who was still by the door. He looked down at the floor. "I didn't realize that you thought that I... *thought* of you that way." He turned around. "I don't, you know. I don't know *why* you think I don't respect you, respect who you are and where you come from.... I don't know what I did to make you think I don't respect you, but I do. I just wanted to set the record straight on that. I respect you more than anyone I've ever met. Can you believe that? Please?"

Starsky was quiet for a moment then spun around to face Hutch. "Why should I? I didn't know she was your sister when I met her ... and you know why?" Starsky questioned, pausing only a moment before proceeding to answer his own question. "Because I don't know your family ... and they don't know me. Because that's the way you want it. Wouldn't want to be embarrassed ... just like you were the first time I met your *darling* wife."

"Starsky, you've got it ass-backwards! Yeah, you don't know my family because I'm embarrassed. But not of *YOU*, dummy! I'm embarrassed of *them*! They are *not* good people. I do *not* get along with them. We don't even speak! Almost *never*! In fact, if you'll recall, *I* didn't know my lovely sister was in town until you told me! Yesterday was the first time I'd seen her in *quite* some time, so don't jump down my throat about not introducing you to my family. You don't *want* to know them. *I* don't want to know them the vast majority of the time, okay?!" Hutch backed up a step when he'd finished his rant, realizing that he's lost his temper. He sat down on the couch resignedly and ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to blow up like that. But you've got it all wrong, Starsk. *All* wrong."

"And if they are all so *terrible* what makes you so *good*?" Starsky asked, the tone of his voice made it impossible to tell if it was an accusation of Hutch being dishonest or if it was a compliment the kind of person Hutch was.

Hutch looked up and just held his gaze for a moment. "You don't have to forgive me, you don't have to take my advice, just don't..." he broke their eye contact and looked away as his voice trailed off. "Just don't be mad at me, okay? Just understand that I said what I said because I wanted to help you. I'm sorry if it came across as pretentious or mean. I didn't intend it to." He broke off and looked up again, almost timidly, as though he was afraid of what look he might see in his friend's eyes. "I'll go now," he said. "You were getting ready to go out," he said, nodding towards the open bedroom door and the clothes that littered the bed. "Have fun," he said, getting up and walking towards the door.

"Hutch ..."

Hutch turned around and looked at him.

"I'm not mad ... not really, anyway." Starsky said, thinking how lame the words sounded. "I mean ... I am angry but not mad."

Hutch smiled a bit and nodded. "See you tomorrow," he said as he opened the door. He left, pulling it quietly closed behind him.

Starsky cursed himself. "Oh, that went really well ..." deciding that tomorrow he and Hutch needed to finish the conversation - to set things straight before Hutch got annoyed with him and decided to get a new partner. He moved back to the bedroom. This time he didn't waste the effort on deciding on the *perfect* thing to wear. He decided on a pair of dark blue jeans (that seemed to be at least 2 sizes too small) and an azure blue shirt. He grabbed his dark brown leather jacket and headed outside.

When Hutch got home after his conversation with Starsky, he sat in his car outside his apartment building for what seemed like ages, thinking everything over again and again. Finally he got out of the car and went inside.

Starsky arrived at the hotel a little before 8 o'clock, and remembering what Liz had said headed up to the ninth floor, where her room was. He knocked on the door, feeling unusually nervous, as he waited for her to answer.

She opened the door wearing a form-fitting dress of layered sheer material. It was low-cut and gave the illusion of *almost* being see-through. She had swept her long blond hair up off her neck and she held a glass of wine in her hand. "David," she said with a smile. "I'm so glad you could make it. Come in." She stepped aside to allow him to enter.

Starsky stepped into the room. "You look ... lovely." Starsky said, having to struggle to find a fitting word, which was something he normal had no problem with -- except when he was so taken with a girl as ht was with Liz.

"Thank you, David," she said coyly. She knew she did. She walked like someone who knew they did. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah, sure." He said, feeling out of place in the elegant surroundings of the five star hotel, his insecurities about he thought (and still wondered about) that Hutch had been imply coming back full force.

"What would you like, handsome? I've got just about everything you can think of." Her question was full of double-entendre and she locked her blue-green eyes on his as she asked it.

"Just a beer, I guess." Starsky said. "For now."

She smiled broadly and bent to get a bottle of beer out of the small fridge beside the table where the liquor stood on a tray. She sashayed over to him and place it in his hand. "I'm afraid you'll have to open it," she said. "I'm not very good with those things."

"Kinda a challenge without a bottle opener." Starsky said, examining the top of the beer. "You think there's one around here somewhere?" he asked eyeing for the bar.

"Why don't you have a look?" she said, but she didn't move from infront of him.

"Maybe I should just have something else, huh?" it was more of a nervous question then a statement.

"Hmmm. What did you have in mind?" she asked slyly.

"You wanted to see the sites ... can't see much of anything here .. 'cept a hotel room."

"I like the scenery here," she said. "Why, do you want to go someplace else?" She laid a hand on his chest.

"Don't know." Starsky said, tentatively reaching out a hand to run his fingers through her hair. "You're right about the scenery here."

"I told you five-star hotels were the only way to go," she teased. She ran a finger down his chest, then leaned closer to him, reaching up and stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.

"And like I said, it all depends on who you're with."

She smiled. "Good point," she conceded.

Starsky slowly leaned in closer to her and brushed a tender kiss across her lips, and pulled back. "And I really like who I'm with." he told her with a smile.

"Good," she said. "I was worried..." her voice trailed off. She didn't want to bring up her brother. There's a mood ruiner. When things were going so well. "I was worried I'd turned you off last night, ending our evening so abruptly," she told him, nuzzling her cheek against his.

"Not a chance." Starsky said, getting a deep breath of her perfume (which almost seemed to make him dizzy). "We'll just have to make up for lost time tonight."

"Sounds promising," she said as she moved against him for another kiss. It lasted longer this time. When it ended, she pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes.

Starsky's dark blue eyes were shinning. He felt as though he was drowning in the blue green eyes that looked him so intently. "Do you believe in love at first site? I know this sounds like a corny come on line ... but I never did until I saw you."

"I know *exactly* what you mean," she whispered. "Don't be embarrassed of it. Don't be ashamed."

"You are so beautiful ... like an angel that's strayed away from heaven."

"And you're a sweet-talker. But I like it." She ran her hand through his hair.

"It's not ‘sweet talk’, not with you."

"No? Then I like it that much more."

"I'm just grateful that you *strayed* into my life." Starsky said, wrapping an arm gently around her slender waist and pulling her closer.

"So am I," she said. "Something this incredibly fortunate could never have been planned." She kissed him again.

"The best things to happen usually aren't planned." Starsky smiled at her brightly, his dark blue eyes seemed to be sparkling none stop.

She smiled. Neither were the greatest tragedies. And sometimes they were the same thing. "You're right," she said. "You're absolutely right."

Starsky glanced around the room for a moment, seeing the glass doors that led out to the balcony. "How's the view from up here?" he asked.

"Nothing like the view in here," she said with a smile. Then she nodded towards the balcony. "Want to have a look?"

"Um, sure." Starsky agreed, despite his fear of heights - after all it was just a balcony not the edge of a cliff, (at least that's what he told himself).

She led him out to the balcony by the hand to stand at the railing. They could see out over much of that part of the city from the ninth floor. "Well?" she said, looking over at him. "What do you think?"

"City looks nice from up here." Starsky admitted truthfully, from up there the city looked like a peaceful place a place that wasn't filled with crime (the crime that he fought against).

She smiled that teasing smile again. "I *told* you five-star hotels were the only way to go." She leaned against him, then looked up at him in mild surprise. "You're shaking a bit. Are you cold?"

"No. I just ..." Starsky paused for a moment. "Maybe just a little." He fibbed. The balcony was glass (or at least looked like it to Starsky) giving the iullusions that there was nothing there.

She put her arms around his waist. "Come inside where it's warm and safe..." she pulled him through the balcony doors. "And we can do this without worrying about peeping Toms." She leaned in to kiss him again.

Starsky returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her to hold the two of them close together. He was head over heels in love with Liz, she was the first women in a long time that he had truly felt that he loved - the last had been Rosey, and that had lead to heartache. Before her was the women he thought to be the love of his life, Terri, and that had ended in tragedy. 'Third times the charm.'

The next morning Hutch had gotten to work early. He was anxious. He knew who Starsky was going out with the night before. He got a cup of coffee and some files from the case they were working on and sat down at his desk, waiting for Starsky to come in. "I'm not going to say anything," he told himself, hoping it wasn't a lie.

Starsky whistled a mindless happy tune as he walked through the precinct, and to his desk. "Hiya, partner." Starsky greeted Hutch as he sat down across from him.

"Morning," Hutch said, trying to put on a happy face. "I take it your evening went well?"

"That's putting it mildly." Starsky said. "Your sister is a wonderful lady, and I am so in *love* with her. I haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time." he didn't need to mention the last time he had been this in love with any of the girls he dated, Hutch knew he had been there all along.

Hutch nodded. He knew that would happen. DAMN IT, he *knew* it. And damn her for doing it. "That's great," he said, trying to hide his lack of enthusiasm for diplomacy's sake. "That's... fabulous."

"Third times the charm, right?" Starsky asked, as though he wanted reassurance from his friend.

"That's what they say," Hutch told him, managing a small smile.

Starsky grinned brightly (a smile that seemed bright enough to light up the room). "Yup, and I got the feeling that they are right."

"I'm glad," Hutch muttered, returning his attention to the file on his lap before he lost control of his tongue.

"Yeah, sure, I can tell you're just over flowing with joy, buddy." Starsky said, there was a hint of anger in his voice.

"Will you give me a break, Starsk? I'm trying."

"Whatever." Starsky mumbled.

Hutch tossed the file onto the pile on his desk, and looked at his partner. "Let's not start this again, okay? If you're happy, then I'm happy for you. It's as simple as that. So turn the smile back on. I believe you were expounding on the virtues of angels come from heaven or something."

"And you've made it clear enough that you don't want to hear about it." Starsky said, and sighed deeply. "Look, Hutch, you're wrong about your sister. You haven't seen her in years and people do change. So whatever you think she was like she ain't, you got that?"

"Got it. Loud and clear," Hutch conceded. There was no point in fighting a battle he would lose even if he won. "Starsk, if personal conversations are going to keep degenerating into arguments, maybe we should work on the case?"

"Don't mean the arguments to start." Starsky said quietly.

"I know," Hutch said. "Me either. But we're in a bit of an awkward situation here..." his voice trailed off. "I *want* to be happy for you, Starsk. You know that. And I'm trying to be, I really am. The on thing I want more than anything else in the world right now is to be proved wrong about Lizzie. That would make me... just deliriously happy."

"Well, be better, blondie, because I'm gonna prove you wrong." Starsky said with a grin.

Hutch smiled. "Good," Hutch told him. "Do that. I'd like that."

There was a definite bounce in Starsky's stepped as he walked towards Liz's hotel room, anxious to see her again, wondering if they'd ever get out of the hotel room on this date (though not caring if they didn't). He knocked on her door, with a single red rose in hand to give to her.

She opened the door slightly. "Yes?"

"Hiya." he greeted her warmly.

Starsky looked confused, but quickly covered it up with a smile. 'There's a lot of things I want."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yup." Starsky said. "How 'bout you? What do you want?"

She smiled ruefully. "I can't chit-chat right now, honey, I'm busy."

"Busy?"

"Busy," she confirmed, looking behind her into the room, behind the door somewhere that Starsky couldn't see. She smiled at something behind the door somewhere. She still held that door open only a crack. "Look, why don't you go

downstairs to the bar. I'm sure there's lots of nice girls down there that would mind letting a looker like yourself buy them a drink. Goodnight!" she said cheerfully, then shut the door without giving him the chance to respond. From behind the door, voices were audible. What they were saying was impossible to make out, but the one that wasn't hers definitely belonged to a man and they were laughing a lot.

Starsky crumbled the rose in one hand, and let it drop to the floor, the red petals scattered to the floor - as the pieces of his heart seemed to. He pounded on the door again and when it wasn't answered, he kicked the door in and barged into the room.

She was sitting on the bed with a suave-looking broad shouldered man. They were cuddled together quite intimately and both looked up in surprise when Starsky barged into the room. "I don't believe this!" Liz said indignantly. "You haul your fine ass out of here this instant or I will call security and have them haul it out *for* you!"

"Yeah, well, you better believe it, scwhtheart." Starsky said coldly, and glared at the man for a moment, and pulled out his badge. "Sir, I'd suggest you leave now."

She put a hand on his arm to stop him from getting up. "I think not," she scoffed. "I don't care *who* you are, you have no right to barge in here. There's nothing going on here that isn't legal between two consenting adults." She paused slightly, seeming to savour the moment. "*You* ought to know *that*."

Starsky seemed to pay no attention to her. "Sir, if you don't leave now I will be forced to charge you with aiding an abetting a known criminal."

"What?" the man said, looking askance at Liz.

She rolled her eyes. "Mitch, don't listen to him. He's an insanely jealous ex-lover and he uses his badge to get away with stalking me. If you want to do something useful, hand me the phone. I'm calling hotel security."

Starsky laughed. "You know all about insanity Miss Hutchinson. Which is why you need to be taken back to Cabrillo State, everyone there has missed you since your escape."

Mitch was now looking back and forth between the two of them more than a little dubiously. As far as he was concerned, they were *both* clearly insane. "Look, Liz. I don't know what's between you and this guy, but you obviously have some issues to work out... I think I'd better leave you to it." He got up and headed for the door.

"There's *nothing* between me and him," Liz called after him. He didn't respond, just continued his hasty retreat. She looked at Starsky. Locked her liquid blue-green eyes on his. "Nothing between us," she purred.

"Obviously." Starsky said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. "Your brother was more then right about you." he said bluntly. "That'll learn me for not listening to my partner." he scolded himself.

"My brother is always right. That was something I learned the hard way when I was a teenager. See, he gave me some advice and I didn't listen. Then I had some... trouble. And he fixed it." She shrugged. "Well, the best it *could* be fixed. And he never, ever told anyone. And that's how I came to understand that my brother is always right." She slid off the bed. "You can go now," she said. "You're no fun anymore."

"So why do you hate him?" Starsky asked. "Just because he's always right? What about the fact that he's always there to fix things after?"

She shrugged. "I don't hate him. He's my brother. I love him to bits. But I hate it when he's right." She walked over to the door and leaned against it. "What part of 'You can leave now' did you not understand?"

"Well ... he ain't *always* right." Starsky told her walking towards the door. "And you really should consider checking in to Cabrillo State because darling you need a lot of help."

"And yesterday you were begging to give it to me, little man. Don't presume to tell me what I need."

"I don't know if you are just a bitch or if you have a reason for playing your little games, but, someday your gonna *fuck* with wrong man, honey." He warned her. "Just to be sure to do it far away from here so me and your brother don't have to scrape up the pieces."

"I've had a million of you," she told him in a low, cold voice, "and there are a million more of you out there waiting. I've heard the speech thousands of times. It's variations on a theme. It's a fugue of reproach. Why don't you save it for someone who cares?"

Starsky was about to say something else and decided against it, instead he turned and walked away trying to bury his heart ache deep inside and not let it show. He got into his car and drove around aimlessly for a while before finding himself on Hutch's doorstep, knowing his partner was home because the LTD was parked out front.

Hutch was sitting in the livingroom with a damp cloth across his head. The events of the last couple of days had given him a pretty much perpetual headache. He got up and opened the door to see Starsky standing on the other side of it. He didn't need to explain why he was there. His silence and the look in his eyes said enough. Hutch stepped aside and Starsky walked into the apartment, without much enthusiasm. They turned to look at each other, both of them almost speaking but not knowing what to say. Then, wordlessly, Hutch stepped over and pulled Starsky into an embrace.

Starsky gripped his arms around his friend. He felt some of the pain of his broken heart melt away, knowing that Hutch was still there for him. Despite all their fighting, despite the fact that he had refused to listen to his partner, and caused himself this pain, Hutch was there to take the pain away, just as he promised he always would. After a moment he stepped back, though Hutch's hand still remained on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I was at least right about one thing ...."

"What's that?" Hutch asked gently.

"That I only want anything to do with *one* Hutchinson." Starsky said, a shadow of a smile playing across his lips.

Hutch smiled and gave Starsky's shoulder a squeeze. Then he headed for the kitchen. "You want a beer?"

"Yeah." Starsky said. "Thanks." the one word thanking his friend for so much.

Hutch stopped at the reception desk the next morning to ask if Elizabeth Hutchinson had checked out. She had not - but her room had been moved. Seems she'd had a problem with a man the night before. And he'd kicked the door in. After the girl at the desk called Elizabeth's room to confirm that Hutch was her brother and it was okay to send him up, she gave him the new room number. 420. He went up and knocked on the door.

A moment later she answered the door. "What do you want?" Liz asked angrily staring at her brother.

"I don't know," he said. "How about an apology? How about a confession?" He looked at her a moment. "You could take it slow and start by letting me in."

"And what are your going to apologize for dear brother?" She asked as she stepped to one side to let him enter the room.

Hutch smiled ruefully. "I'm glad your traumatic encounter last night didn't damage your sense of humour," he said flatly.

Liz shut the door and walked into the room. "Oh yeah, it was *real* traumatic." she said sarcastically.

"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked. "It was a lot shorter than usual, wasn't it? This particular relationship?"

"He really wasn't any fun ... and just so beneath my standards."

Hutch slowly turned to look at her. "You have standards? When did this start?" he said - but not glibly or sarcastically. It was with unexpected chill in his voice.

"I have always had standards, unlike you."

Hutch raised his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've always been one to go around slumming it." Liz said and smiled. "Maybe it's time you stopped playing this little *game* too, Ken."

"I don't *play* games, Liz. I don't have a sadistic need to go around hurting people to myself feel better!"

"We might have different reasons for what we do but it's the same. And your playing friends with your white trash partner is all apart of the game you play." She said, her voice accusing.

"What are you talking about? Starsky *is* my friend. There's no *game*."

"You may think you're his friend, but you know deep down that he's just another part of your life-long rebellion against everything that our father is. So you have a crummy car and a street-punk best friend. Because you don't want to be the little rich boy on the block. Because you want to embarrass our father."

"Our father has *nothing* to do with this. Our father has nothing to do with my *life*! He hasn't for years and he never will again. And neither will you." He looked at her with sad, accusing eyes. "You couldn't do me just one favour and leave my friend alone. You couldn't do just *one* thing for me. Well don't ever come to me, Lizzie. Not for anything. You're dead to me. Do you understand that? My little sister died behind the bleachers at our highschool when she was 15 years old." He turned and walked towards the door.

"He was barely even worth it. One day you'll realize the same thing, Kenny, he's not worth anything. Only thing *fun* about him was the fact it got to you. Will he even still talk to you? Would he if he knew all about the games you play? You accuse me of so much and yet we are alike, more alike then you care to admit even to yourself." Liz said, practically yelling, she smiled coldly. "You are the one who made me this way, brother."

He spun around on her. "Are you talking, Lizzie? Because nobody's listening. I have two things left to say to you: leave me alone, and stay the *hell* away from my partner!" He turned and stalked out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. He walked down the hall, quickly at first, but losing momentum as he got farther from Liz's room. At the other end of the hall, he stopped. He realized his legs were shaking. He fell back against the wall and sunk to the floor. In the quiet, deserted hallway, he put his face into his hands and let a soft sob escape before he could pull himself together. He sat there for several moments, with his face in his hands, trying to organize his thoughts and process what had just happened, and what it meant.

Starsky sat in the Torino waiting for Hutch, worried that Hutch was taking so long to talk to his sister. Worried that she would say things to upset Hutch deeply - or worried that she'd play her games to win Hutch over to her side - after all they were brother and sister. He cursed himself for having kicked in her hotel door - figuring she could use that against him. He glanced at his watch and debated going inside to find his partner 'ten more minutes and I'm coming in after you, buddy.'

Hutch had cleaned up in the lobby bathroom, knowing Starsky would worry if he showed up outside a mess. He pushed his conversation with Liz into the back of his head, and casually walked outside to where his partner was waiting in the striped tomato. He got in the car. "Well," he said with a forced smile. "Got that over with. Let's go."

Starsky glanced at Hutch for a moment. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Everything's fine," Hutch answered. It wasn't washing and he knew it, but he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to drag it back to the front of his thoughts.

Starsky knew Hutch was lying (well maybe lying wasn't the best word - he was more just denying to tell the truth) and he always knew that Hutch didn't want to talk about it anymore then he cared to discuss his confrontation with Liz. Starsky started the car. "As long as we're okay." He said quietly. 'Nothin' else matters.'

~ The End ~