Chapter Five

 

 “Doesn’t it feel great, Starsk?  Rodney’s behind bars where he belongs, Jenny and her mom are safe, and Billy’s getting the help he needs.  Makes you feel like it’s worth your while to get out of bed in the morning, huh?”

 

Starsky’s only reply was to sigh loudly, not looking at his partner.

 

“Oh, come on, Starsk.  You’re not still upset over those few stitches, are you?”

 

“Few stitches?” Starsky asked incredulously, finally turning to look his partner in the eye.  “I’ll have you know my arm was half cut off!  Why don’t you warn me the next time you’re gonna shove me through a window?”

 

“Oh, right, Starsk.  I guess I should have just stood by and watched Rodney bash your head in with that chair.  But no.  I risk life and limb to save your sorry hide, and all I get is grief.  You know, Starsk, you should be thanking me¾

 

“Thanking you?” Starsky interrupted.  “For what?  You should be thanking me.  After all, if I wasn’t there to intervene when Rodney started tossin’ you around like a rag doll, who knows what might’ve happened.”

 

“Oh, yeah.  You were a great help, lying there on the sidewalk.  Don’t know what I would have done without you.”

 

“And whose fault was that?  I swear, Hutchinson, you’re gonna drive me to an early grave¾

 

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of a portly nurse carrying two loaded syringes.  “Detective Starsky?  If you’ll just follow me, I have your medication.”

 

Starsky rose slowly and reluctantly to his feet and followed the nurse, turning to glare at his partner before he preceded her into the curtained cubicle.  As he obediently unfastened his jeans, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of his partner’s laughter drifting through the curtain.  Sighing heavily, he leaned over the exam table and waited for the inevitable, promising himself he would get his revenge.

 

 

˜

 

 















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