MISFORTUNE
by Lin P and Linda H
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Aww damn. It couldn't be 8:00 a.m. already. David Starsky kicked his bed covers off and made a bee line for the shower. Hutch was going to be pissed. This was the third time in four days that he had overslept.
After quickly drying off, Starsky made his way into the kitchen to grab a slice of cold pizza and a frosty rootbeer. Peering down at his wrist watch, he realized he had five seconds before Hutch would be pounding on the door....
"Come on, Starsk! let me in!" Bellowed Hutch from the front door.
Starsky sheepishly opened the door and let his irate partner in.
"You promised me you'd be waiting for me outside, Starsk. Look at you, your hair is still wet...and whats that your eating?" Hutch grabbed the half-eaten pizza slice out of his partner's hand.
"Hey, thats my breakfast Hutch" Moaned Starsky as he watched his friend deep six the last slice.
As the garbage can lid slammed shut Starsky's narrowed eyes went from it back up to his partner's amused face.
"How could you?"
"Just did. Wasn't hard."
"Yeah, well, you're going to have to wait anyway. I have not completed my morning ablutions yet." Starsky said haughtily as he started out of the
room.
"Your *what*?"
"I said....I haven't finish...."
Hutch grabbed his surprised partner and propelled him towards the bathroom. He yanked a towel off the rack and threw it at Starsky. Leaning against the doorway, arms folded, he watched as Starsky dried his too curly wet hair.
Once that task was completed, hands on hips, Hutch waited as Starsky tried to locate his missing left Adidas sneaker.
"Look under the bed, Starsk." Hutch offered wearily. "It's always under the bed."
Starsky dropped down on his knees and peered under the bed. Sure enough the missing sneaker was right where Hutch said it would be. Grabbing it, Starsky proceeded to put it on.
Hutch was now standing near the front door, holding out a brown leather jacket.
Starsky grabbed it from his partner and stomped his way to Hutchs car. The morning was NOT off to a good start - for either man.
Silence filled the car. Finally the radio crackled that a robbery was in progress at a convenience store on Main and Third.
"Hey thats around the corner, Hutch." Said Starsky as he reached for the mike on the radio.
"10-4, Zebra Three responding." Starsky called in. "Hutch. Drop me off around the back."
Hutch stealthily drove his car to the rear of the store. Starsky jumped out and ran for the back entrance. Gun in hand, he kicked opened the door and made his way into the store.
Parking his car on the side of the store, Hutch made his way for the front door. A sudden wind whipped his blonde hair into his eyes. Hutch cursed as he pushed the errant wisps out of his face. Suddenly, with no warning, the front door flew open. Before it even banged against the wall Hutchs eyes widened as his partner flew out of the doorway. With startled expressions they slammed into each other like two quarterbacks on a laying field. The impact propelled them both off the front steps to the sidewalk where they landed hard. Then lay there.....
Hutch opened one eye then shut it again. Then, after a few blinks, he was looking at the vast sky above him. The endless soft blue and drifting white clouds were a stark contrast to the hard concrete under his bruised bones. Still stunned, not really wanting to move, he did a quick mental check of his body. Nothing seemed broken, but the back of his head throbbed.
"Hutch?"
Anger bubbled inside him at the sound of *that* voice.
"What?" He whispered hoarsely.
"You okay?" Starsky was laying somewhere to the right of him.
"Ohhhh yeah."
An ache sprang to life in his back and began to grow.
"Hutch?"
"What?" He growled lowly.
"Aren't you gonna ask me if I'm okay?"
Hutch pressed his eyes shut.
"Why.." he began, struggling to keep his tone even, "..did you hit me like that? What ....where's the perp?"
He heard Starsky stir beside him. He began to sit up himself and his head ached with the movement. He reached around and gingerly felt the sore spot. No blood. His partner was sitting up, hands on knees and squinting his eyes for focus. He shook his head lightly and looked over to Hutch.
"Wasn't any. It was a false alarm."
"What? And you just couldn't *wait* to tell me?"
Starsky swallowed and looked back to the doorway.
"Well, I'm waiting for an explanation." Grunted Hutch as he slowly stood up, and shook the dirt and debris from his clothes.
"Well, ya see, Hutch," Starsky pulled himself up as well. "I ran into the store and it was empty except for this young kid at the register. He was just pointin' at the front door so... I assumed the perp had run out this way. Only as I was headin' out the door I think...well, I know... I heard the clerk shout to me about accidentally hittin' the alarm...." Starsky's voice trailed off and he looked away from the icey blue eyes piercing right through him.
"But by then it was too late...." He finished weakly.
Hutch glared at him. An accusing finger came up and his mouth opened, then clamped shut again.
Starsky stared with great interest at a pebble on the sidewalk.
"Come on." Hutch finally said as he marched past him and back up the steps. "Lets go and have a little chat with the *other* moron inside."
Starsky quickly rolled his eyes up to the sky for help, then followed.
After the pair of detectives had finished their interrogation of the sales clerk and felt confident that it was indeed an accidental false alarm, they were back in Hutch's car.
After a few moments, Starsky started to squirm around in the passenger seat. His back was stiff from the collision and he was starting to get a headache above his eyes. Figuring the latter was from his lack of breakfast, he decided to risk further irritating his partner.
"Ah, Hutch?" He began in a light tone. "Well...I never did get to eat any breakfast. Do.. do ya think we could stop for some donuts and coffee? Whadda ya say?"
As it so happened there was a bakery a few blocks ahead. Hutch sighed, and headed towards it.
Starskys mouth watered. Just the thought of devouring a boston cream donut was enough to make him drool.
"Quit drooling all over my car, Starsk. I'll get you there as soon as I can."
Starsky shot a hand up to his mouth. It was dry. Hutch smirked out the drivers window.
Starsky started to think of a witty reply, but decided silence was best in this case.
Hutch squealed into the empty parking lot. Starsky got out, then turned around to lean back in.
"Hutch, ya want anything? My treat." He asked with a smile that more resembled clenched teeth.
"Okay, Starsk. A coffee. Black."
"Sure thing."
Returning moments later with a large bag of assorted donuts and two coffees, Starsky carefully slid back into the passenger seat.
Placing the donut bag on the floor between his feet, Starsky went to hand Hutch his coffee. Just as Hutch went to take it from his friend the loose cap popped off and dark, hot liquid poured over Hutch's sleeve and sank into the upholstery. With a gasp, Hutch braced his legs until he was off the seat.
"Starskeee!"
Hutch flung the styrofoam cup out the window, and still straining to keep his legs from touching the wet spot, reached around into the back-seat for a rag to mop up the mess.
Starsky frantically joined in dabbing at the mess with some napkins.
"What the hell is with you today?" Hutch snapped as he inspected his sleeve. Starsky tried to dab at that too, and Hutch indignantly snatched his arm away.
"Gosh, Hutch, I'm so sorry." Starsky gave up and leaned back. "Must be jinxed today, I guess."
"Is that so? More like clumsy to me." Hutch replied as he jumped out of the car and finished cleaning the seat from there. "What time did you finally go to bed last night? Wait!" His hand shot up. "Don't tell me... sometime after three in the morning, right?"
Starsky was silent. Hutch was right. After knocking back a few too many beers with Huggy and playing a few dart games, Starsky finally made it home well after 2 a.m.
"Cat got your tongue, buddy?" asked Hutch in a sarcastic tone.
"What can I say, Hutch? Yeah I was out too late....but I just don't think being tired has anything to do with all the stuff that's been happening to us today."
"Really, please enlighten me, Starsk. Who or what..."
"Whom."
Hutch's eyes told him to beware.
"Who..or what is to blame for this mess of a day?" Hutch said.
"Well.........I think my moon is in the cusp of Saturn, and..." Starsky caught Hutch's odd look. "Forget it, Hutch. It's a horoscope thing. You don't wanna hear it."
"Give me your jacket." Hutch directed as he still leaned in the car.
"What?"
"I said give me your jacket. I'm not going to sit on this. It's still
soaked."
"Geez..." Starsky pulled off his jacket and tossed it on the wet spot. He was muttering to himself as Hutch climbed back into the car. "...just another stain in this bucket...end of the world...."
He jumped when Hutch let out a deafening holler. The scream continued as the blond man leapt back out of the car.
"Wha...what?" Starsky asked, stunned. His eyes widened as he saw his partner twist around to look at his backside.
Hutch reached back with a hand, and as he grasped the large feathered dart now imbedded in his buttock, his eyes moved to Starsky's....blazing.
"Ohhhh...shit." Starsky whispered.
Starsky was at first mortified by the sight of his blonde haired partner standing in broad daylight with a feathered dart protruding from his rear. However, horror was soon replaced by a sudden intense desire to laugh. And laugh he did, loudly and uncontrollably.
Giggling and laughing until Starsky thought he would keel over, he managed to exit the car to go and lend Hutch a helping hand.
Seeing his curly haired friend approaching him Hutch shouted, "Stay the hell away from me! I mean it, Starsk. I can take care of this myself."
"Sure, Hutch. I understand. It is in rather a delicate area." Laughter again bubbled forth from Starsky's mouth.
With a painful grunt, Hutch jerked out the pointy implement from his backside. He then held up the dart in front of Starsky's face.
"Starsk," said Hutch in a deadly quiet voice. "Why was there a dart in your jacket?"
"I was playing darts at the Pits last night," Starsky began with a smile, "..and.. well, thats my lucky dart. Carry it with me whenever I play the game." Hutch never took his stare off him and he finished with a less confident voice. "Thought you knew that."
"I see. Here, take it." Hutch held the dart towards him.
Starsky hesitated. Hutch was being awfully calm about this most recent mishap.
Taking his hand and reaching towards his friend, he quickly took his dart back.
"Hutch, I'll drive. You probably want to go home, maybe shower, and apply some antibacterial cream to...well you know where." Offered Starsky genuinely remorseful at this point.
With one last dark glance at Starsky, Hutch walked around to the passenger side of his car. His stride had a hitch in it. Starsky bit his tongue as he watched him move. Hutch got in the car and sat in the seat leaning carefully to the side.
Starsky swiftly drove to Venice Place.
Once in the apartment, Hutch took a long hot shower, while Starsky sprawled out on the sofa. Noticing the newspaper, he proceeded to look for the Horoscope column. There had to be some logical explanation for all of the misfortune befalling him and his partner today. However, before Starsky could find that section, something else caught his eye. There on the front
page in large typeset was the date. It was FRIDAY the 13th. Well, that explained everything.
Starsky ran into the bathroom, paper in hand. Catching Hutch in a semi-state of undress he waved the paper under his friends nose.
"STARSKY! What the hell are you doing charging in here like this?" Demanded Hutch as he clutched a towel around him.
"Here, Hutch," Starsky was oblivious to his friend's embarrassment. "Check out the date, it's Friday the 13th." He finished, proud of his discovery.
Hutch just shrugged. He finished getting dressed and headed for the kitchen. A nice cup of tea would surely soothe his frayed nerves.
Starsky was at his heels.
"Hutch, didn't you hear what I said?"
Hutch remained silent. After boiling the water and steeping his chamomile tea bag for three minutes, he then sat down gingerly
on the edge of the kitchen chair. Sipping the brew, he felt relaxation seep through his body.
"Sit down, Starsky."
Starsky complied and straddled the other kitchen chair.
"Starsky, there is no such thing as bad luck. Friday the 13th is just another day. Stated Hutch in a scholarly superior voice.
Starsky bowed his head. He had been down this road before with Hutch. There would be no convincing him otherwise. Still...in his heart he just felt that more doom and gloom was around the corner for the two should they go back out on the streets.
There had to be some way of keeping Hutch in the apartment. Frantically thinking of some plausible reason, there seemed only one solution, as underhanded as it may be.
"Guess you're right Hutch. Guess I'm just being dumb is all." Sighed Starsky.
He got up from his chair and went back to the sofa. Laying down, he curled on his side and shut his eyes. Starsky knew there was only one thing that would keep Hutch inside for the rest of the day - and that was a *sick Starsky*. He quietly started to moan.....
Hearing his partner's low moans, Hutch walked back into the living room. "What's wrong with you?" He asked as he approached the couch.
"I dunno." Starsky mumbled. "All of a sudden I feel sick."
"That was fast. You were fine five minutes ago." Hutch replied with a tinge of confusion.
"I know......Let's go, Hutch." Starsky began to pull himself up. "We've got places to go, people to...uhhh." He fell back onto the cushions.
"What is it? Your head? Your stomach?" Hutch leaned over him apprehensively. Starsky did seem to be in some kind of trouble.
"Oh man... everything." Starsky answered almost in a groan. "My head's explodin', feels like a football game goin' on in my stomach." Hutch studied his face. Though his color was good and his eyes were clear, his expression was strained and he was in obvious discomfort.
"Want some aspirin?" Hutch asked helplessly.
"Uh...sure." Starsky swallowed hard and pressed his eyes shut.
"Be right back."
In a few minutes Starsky was handing Hutch the empty glass. "Thanks."
"Okay, lay back down a while."
" 'kay." Starsky said in a small voice. "Hutch?...think you could put the tube on? Low, just low. It helps me relax."
"Sure, buddy." Hutch went to the TV, turned it on and adjusted the volume. "Good?" He asked softly.
Starsky smiled weakly and nodded.
"Listen," Hutch said as he straightened back up again. "I'm going to call Dobey. Tell him we're booking off for the day."
The telephone was in the kitchen, on the wall. Hutch took the receiver off its hook and dialed. As it rang at the other end, he stretched the cord out to its limit to peek around the corner into the living room.
"Dobey here."
Starsky, still prone on the couch, was delicately pulling a chocolate bar out of his jacket pocket. He peeled down the wrapper with two fingers and took a bite.
"I said Dobey here!"
"Uh...yeah...Captain....," Hutch whispered.
"You want something Hutch? Or do you just miss me?"
Starsky chuckled quietly at something on the television. He took another bite from his bar, folded the wrapper back over, then slid it back into his pocket.
"Hutch!" Dobey bellowed into his ear.
Hutch ducked back into the kitchen. "Just checking in, Captain. Been away from the radio for a little while."
There was hesitation at the other end. "....long as you're not missing me. I scared myself there."
Hutch laughed softly. "Nah. Later, Cap." He hung up the phone.
"Hutch?" Came the frail voice from the other room.
Hutch's eyes narrowed.
He went back in and sat down on the coffee table. His eyes were soft as he looked down into Starsky's sad face. "How you feeling, buddy?" He asked gently.
"No better, Hutch." Starsky replied, then coughed. He closed his eyes as Hutch put his hand on his forehead.
"No fever." Hutch said and he drew his hand away. He leaned in closer. Starsky opened his eyes and looked up into the compassionate face.
"How's the stomach?" Hutch asked soothingly.
"Killin' me, Hutch."
"Yeah?" Hutch's smile was tender. "The chocolate bar didn't settle it
down?"
Starsky stared at him.
"Well, didn't it?"
"I..... don't know what you're talkin' about."
"No?"
"No."
Hutch continued to smile kindly down at Starsky. Starsky managed to return a tiny grin.
"You two-bit, phony son of a bitch!" Hutch yelled and dove for Starsky's pocket.
"Hey!!" Starsky grabbed at the offending hands. In a furious contest they slapped at each other hands, snatched wrists and arm-wrestled til Hutch's hand finally shot up with the half-eaten chocolate bar.
"Aha!" He yelled with triumph in his eyes. Starsky swiped at it but Hutch waved his hand out of reach. He jumped up as Starsky slumped back down.
"The jig's up, pal!" Hutch said, pointing at the bar for emphasis. "Get your carcass off the couch, and out the door."
With a long sigh, Starsky stood up. "Hutch," he pleaded, "we can't go back out there."
"Why not?"
"I told ya. It's right there in the horoscope..."
Hutch raised a silencing hand. "Don't. I don't want to hear one more thing about your planets and sun and stars mumbo-jumbo. Let's go." He marched towards the door.
"Alright," Starsky said with resignation as he got up to follow, "but don't say I didn't warn ya."
****************************************************************
Twenty minutes later they got a call from Dispatch. A fight in a restaurant, the Sun and Moon Diner on 56th Street. As Hutch was replying into the mike, Starsky was crossing his hands back and forth and mouthing 'no' to him. Hutch ignored him.
"10-4. Zebra Three on the way." He put the mike back on the stand.
"Oh geez, Hutch." Starsky complained. "Now you've done it. What'd we have to answer that call for?"
"Oh, I don't know, Starsky. Let's see...umm...we're paid to?"
"Didn't you hear the name of that place?"
"You know what, Starsk?" Hutch said tensely. "If I hear one more word about your freaky little superstitions I....I'm.....I'll....." he sputtered and gave up. With a last glare at his partner, he stepped hard on the gas.
They walked in the front door of the small restaurant and looked around. There were only two people sitting at a table and a waitress taking their order, but no commotion in sight. They walked up to the waitress, a tiny Oriental woman of about fifty.
"Excuse me...ma'am?" Hutch touched her elbow and she turned. He showed his badge. "There was a call about a fight in here."
"Ah, yes." She replied and pointed to the kitchen door with her pencil. "My husband and his brother are in the back."
"And they're fighting?" Starsky asked over Hutch's shoulder.
"You go see them." She said. "I want nothing to do with. Fed up." Then she turned back to the table.
Starsky and Hutch shrugged at each other and went to the swinging door. They peeked through the window then pushed the door open. The kitchen was small and cluttered with a walk-around counter in the middle of it. On the walls hung various cooking instruments. Some were also on the floor, lying in wet mixtures of spilled food. Everything was quiet.
"Helllooo." Hutch called as they poked their heads in.
No answer. They entered the room cautiously. Starsky saw them first. Two men in a corner. Both were Oriental and small in stature. One of them was against the wall cowering under a rolling pin that was being held over his head by the second man. The trapped man's wide eyes went to the policemen.
"Excuse us.." Starsky said. The man with the rolling pin turned towards his voice and his captive saw the chance to escape. He scrambled under the raised arms. Within seconds shrieks of fury filled the tiny space as the men scrambled in circles around the counter. Startled into action, Starsky and Hutch tried to grab onto at least one of them. But the men flew by them, screaming and waving arms. Hutch did manage to grab the shirt of one man, but it slipped out of his hands. All four men were yelling now and who was chasing who, became confusing. Pots and pans clattered to the floor, adding to the din and chaos. Finally one of the men slid into the door and threw it open. He raced out, with the other man and Hutch close behind him. Starsky was following, but he skidded on the slick floor and grabbed for the edge of a stainless steel vat to keep from falling.
The waitress looked up as the three men tore through the restaurant. She spat something out in Japanese, then went back to wiping a table.
Out onto the sidewalk they poured. The two brothers halted, facing each other. Hutch watched as the man with the rolling pin thumped it on the side of his brother's arm.
"You can't do that!" Hutch started towards them.
The man looked down at his arm then up again. He said something in Japanese in a hurt, surprised tone. The first man was quiet for a moment then seemed to ask a question as he dropped the rolling pin and approached his brother. He reached out to touch the arm and his hand was pushed away. He seemed remorseful, the other shocked, offended. Hutch watched this exchange in confusion.
The door to the restaurant opened. Out stepped a figure dripping in thick green liquid. Hutch almost took a step back. The chattering of the brothers behind him stopped.
"Starsky?"
White, white round eyeballs on the slimy green face turned eerily to look at Hutch..
Hutch was stunned. "Wha....what......happened?"
"Soup..... I think it was soup. I don't know what it is."
Hutch felt it build in his belly, it swelled and rose and he began to roar with laughter. A hapless Starsky could only stand and watch. Suddenly something from above flew down, and hit Hutch on the head. He was shocked into silence. Starsky watched in horror as Hutch's eyes crossed. The tall blond man's knees gave out first and he sank to them on the pavement. Then his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and like a felled tree, he toppled over. He lay on the ground beside the restaurant sign that had dropped on him. A blue half-moon crossing over a yellow sun.
After hours of observation, Hutch was finally sitting up on the edge of the bed in the ER. He felt the top of his head. Now there were two sore spots. Make that three. He shifted on the bed, taking some weight off his aching backside. He shook his head slowly in amazement. What a day.
"Hey, how ya doin'?" Starsky asked with a big grin as he entered the
room.
"Good. Just waiting for the prescription and we can get out of here. About time too. How long we been here?"
"Don't ask. The wheels of medicine grind slowly. But..." Starsky tapped a finger lightly on the shoulder and smiled, "good news is the doc said it's nothin' serious. Just a good old fashioned knock on the noggin. Hey, while you were here did ya get them to look at your....fanny?"
Hutch shot him a look.
Starsky began to wander and snoop around the room.
"Hey, Starsk." Hutch was frowning in thought. "All that stuff...."
"What stuff?" Starsky asked as he picked up a box of rubber gloves and examined it.
"You know, horoscopes and all."
"Yeah?" Starsky looked up.
"I'm beginning to think maybe..." He stopped.
"Think what?"
Hutch made a face. "Maybe you were right. Maybe we should have stayed low today." He threw his arms up. "There. I said it."
Hutch glanced quickly at his partner.
Starsky put the box of gloves down and walked over to stand beside the bed. He put an arm around an embarrassed Hutch. "You gonna be alright to go home?"
"Well, of course I am."
"The day's over, Hutch. It's past midnight." Starsky said as he patted him on the back. "You don't have to be scared anymore."
Hutch's eyes lit up. "I never said I was scared!"
"Nothin' to worry about, partner." Starsky said encouragingly.
"Starsky..."
Starsky stepped in front of Hutch and put his hands on his shoulders. He peered deep into Hutch's eyes. When he spoke his voice was low and solemn. "You know, if you start taking these things *too* seriously, you'll drive yourself crazy.... Am I right?"
Hutch stared back into those deep blue eyes. It was a moment before he could respond.
"I think you'd better go wait in the hall."
"Huh?"
"Trust me, Starsk, it's for your own safety."
The hands came off his shoulders. "What ya talkin' about?"
Hutch pushed himself off the bed. Starsky read the look on his face and backed up.
"Now." Hutch uttered as he approached menacingly. "Before I make you really see some stars..."
Starsky was pulling the door open.
"...and shove the moon up where the sun don't....!"
Starsky was gone.
The End