False Accusation continued

By Lutra Cana

The shower did little to ease the tension in Starsky's back. He'd missed his usual morning exercise routine he started after leaving the hospital. Something he supposed he'd need to talk to Hutch about now. Besides all the other changes he'd been forced to make. Maybe he could get Hutch to work at the persistent ache in his left shoulder. It had bothered him since the shooting in the restaurant, but had gotten worse after the last time. His right arm was weak and he found himself doing more with his left arm than before. Even being left-handed, he usually did anything that required strength with the right. But not anymore.

The thought of Hutch's long fingers touching his bare skin sent shivers down his spine. No, maybe having Hutch massage him wasn't such a good idea. At least not right now. He'd have to figure out some other way to ease the pain in his shoulder.

Starsky was surprised to find his partner gone when he walked back into Hutch's bedroom. Smiling to himself, he picked up the discarded clothes lying in a pile on the floor, folded them, and laid them on the bed. <Boy, I can see a whole life of picking up after you, blintz.> The thought stopped Starsky in his tracks.

The idea of living with Hutch had never crossed his mind before. Sure, they'd slept on each other's couches often over the years and Hutch had stayed with him for weeks after Starsky was released from the hospital. But the concept of sharing a home - together - was new. Of spending twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week with Hutch. Starsky stood there, Hutch's shirt in his hands and allowed himself the daydream of the two of them coming home to some little house all their own. With Hutch's plants all over the place and Starsky's eclectic collection of stuff scattered about. The beauty of it made him smile and the craving for it made him ache.

Lying the shirt down beside the folded slacks with a little, loving pat, Starsky sighed and left the room. Walking down the long hallway gave him time to think about the evening before and the conversation with Chris. Try as he might, Starsky couldn't think of anything he'd done to make the girl want to finger him as her attacker. There had to be a reason why she picked him, but he couldn't think of one. He kept seeing her wide, innocent eyes and the way she flirted with him. Someone had to have taken her up on the unconscious offer she made - or the attacker thought she was making - and gotten angry when she resisted. If he could just find that guy.

Approaching the bottom of the stairs Starsky was surprised to hear his partner's voice and Richard's raised in anger. He tried not to hear what they were saying, but he heard enough to know it was about him.

"He's my partner, Dad." Hutch sounded as much hurt as upset. Starsky hugged the wall, wishing there were some way that he could disappear so they wouldn't discover him eavesdropping.

"I know he's your partner, Ken. That's the problem." Richard's voice didn't sound so much angry as resigned. What the hell were they talking about? Starsky heard the low murmur of a third male voice, but couldn't make out the words. Deciding that if he stayed close to the stairs and slid around the newel post, the livingroom's occupants wouldn't see him, Starsky made a fast exit towards the kitchen.

Where he walked in on what appeared at first glance to be a women's group meeting. He started to back up to leave when Helen spotted him.

"David, come in, come in. We're just trying to figure out what to do about this whole awful mess." Helen gestured for him to join the ladies clustered around the table. Slightly embarrassed, he walked across the big room and pulled out a chair to sit between Helen and Rickie. Across the table sat Hutch's sister, Katie, and a woman he knew he should know the name of but it escaped him at the moment. Rickie helped him out.

"You remember my mom, Liv, don't you, David?" Rickie smiled at him, laying her hand on his arm.

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry Mrs. Lundstrom. I met so many people last night that the names and faces have all run together." He gave her one of his best grins and was rewarded with a broad smile very much like Rickie's.

"That's quite all right, David. And please, call me Liv. You're practically family so there's no need for formalities." Her soft voice held the faint traces of an accent and Starsky remembered Hutch telling him that Karl had met his wife while she was an exchange student from Norway. The two had fallen madly in love and, after much red tape, married. Rickie was their only child, born long after they'd given up any hope of a baby.

"Thank you, Liv. So - what have you ladies come up with?" Starsky knew from his years of police work that sometimes the best information came from the most unlikely sources.

Rickie looked at her mother who nodded at her. Turning back to Starsky, she looked embarrassed but determined. "Chris and I aren't what you'd call friends although we pretty much hang out with the same crowd. I've been to sleep-overs at her place and she's been to mine. Stuff like that. I know that she's been grounded for the last month, wasn't even allowed to go to the last dance of the year."

"Why is she grounded? And why was she here last night if she was?" Starsky smiled at Katie who brought him a cup of coffee. He was a little shocked at the warm hand that patted his shoulder as she walked around behind him to get to her chair.

Rickie fiddled with a plate in front of her that held the remnants of a muffin. "I don't exactly know why on the grounding except I'm pretty sure it's to do with a boy that her dad doesn't like. She won't talk about it, which means it's pretty major because she talks about everything." Rickie looked uncomfortable. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Honest."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I know what you mean. Go on, why was she here last night?" Starsky shook his head at Helen who offered him a plate of some of the same muffins that Rickie was crumbling.

"She was here last night because both her parents were and they weren't going to leave her home by herself. She seemed really jumpy all evening. I saw her talking to you up on the deck and that was the most relaxed she seemed all night. I saw her mom not long afterwards looking for her. But I didn't see where she'd gotten off to after you left."

Helen pushed the plate back towards Starsky again; "Stephen and Laura Vetter live near the end of the block. Stephen was the man we passed in the hallway last night." Starsky looked at her blankly. "You remember - the drunk who was having trouble finding the bathroom."

"Oh, right." Starsky did remember him - short, dark-haired, and fleshy. And very, very drunk. "Rickie, you say you saw her Mom looking for her. Do you know if she found her?"

Rickie shook her head, setting her long hair flying. She was wearing it down this morning, and it lay in a golden sheet around her shoulders. "I'm afraid I wasn't paying that much attention. I was dancing and she happened to ask me. I told her I hadn't seen her for awhile and she went back towards the house." She looked over at her mother, then Helen, then back to Starsky. "There's something else I suppose I should tell you although it's really gossip."

"Hey - cops love gossip. You'd be surprised how much truth there is in even the most vicious rumor. But if it's only gossip, then it'll stay here, just between us. Okay?"

Rickie fidgeted some more, playing with the hem of her t-shirt. "Okay, but remember I don't have any proof, just what others have whispered. Chris...since Chris was little, she's always having accidents. She's missed whole weeks, once a month, because of them. A broken arm one time. She walked with a limp and got out of gym class for a couple weeks one year. I remember her coming to school with this big bruise on her face. She said that she fell off her horse - she rides in competition - and whacked herself. But I always wondered. Anyway, a bunch of us got talking and one of the girls said that she'd seen Mr. Vetter smack Chris real hard on the face one time. And that Chris just stood there and took it. Didn't cry or anything."

Ignoring the gasps from the three mothers at the table, Starsky sat back. Looking at Rickie's big blue eyes - so much like his partner's - and thought how innocent they looked. "Rickie, do you know if anyone ever reported Chris' 'accidents'? A teacher, a doctor, anyone?"

Again, Rickie looked at her mom for support. Encouraged by a smile, she turned back to Starsky. "I know the police were at her house once. After the broken arm thing. As far as I know nothing ever happened. But things got quieter for a while. At least until this year. Since Christmas, she's been having 'accidents' again." She looked up at Starsky hopefully.

Starsky leaned towards the girl and took her hand in his. Rubbing the back of it, he looked into her eyes and gently asked, "Rickie, this is an awful question I'm going to ask you, but I want as truthful an answer as you can give me. Do you know if Chris' father ever molested her in a...uh...inappropriate way?"

"Do you mean, did he ever have sex with her?" Rickie smiled thinly at Starsky shocked expression. "Hey, I'm seventeen. I'm not a complete innocent, you know. And, no, as far as I know, Mr. Vetter has never sexually molested his daughter. From what she's said - you know how girls talk to each other. Well, maybe you don't, but they do. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that, up until last night, Chris was a virgin. Whoever raped her, it wasn't her father."

Starsky sat holding Rickie's hand for a minute, thinking over what she'd told him. An idea started to form in his mind. And idea bred from years of experience as a policeman. And an astute observer of the human animal. Maybe, just maybe, Rickie had given him the evidence he needed to clear himself. And maybe bring a criminal to justice who'd evaded it for far too long.

"So, I leave you alone for five minutes and I find you sitting on your butt, holding hands with my cousin." Hutch's amused voice startled Starsky out of his ponderings. Starsky looked over his shoulder to see his partner and his partner's father standing in the kitchen archway. Hutch was leaning against one side of the arch, long legs crossed at the ankles, a fond grin on his face.

Hutch turned to Richard. "You know, Dad, whenever I misplace this guy, all I have to do is look for the nearest group of pretty women and he's right in the middle. Can't understand the attraction myself, but I guess there's no accounting for taste. Maybe I should take a survey or something. Find out what it is about him that ladies of all ages seem to find so darn appealing."

Katie laughed. "Well, I don't know about other women, but that dark, curly hair gets to me." She grinned at Starsky's startled expression.

"Could be the smile. As I told Ken last night, David has a lovely smile," Helen offered.

All four of the women grinned at Starsky as he blushed. Liv made the comment, "It's the eyes. I've never seen such beautiful blue eyes before."

Shaking with barely restrained laughter, Rickie shook her head at her family. "Oh no. Not that all of that isn't great, but speaking from someone who's a retired cheerleader, it's his body. For a 'mature' man, he's got a great body." She giggled as Starsky's blush deepened and he tried to pull his hand from her grasp. Rickie tightened her hold. "Don't let go, David. It's not often I get to hold hands with an almost perfect guy. And one who's a gentleman too."

Starsky dropped his face into his free hand, enjoying himself immensely in spite of his embarrassment. He hadn't felt so much a part of a family, even his own, in far too long.

"Well, I don't know about all that stuff about his looks. But I can tell you you'd change your mind about the gentleman bit if you'd just spent eighteen hours on a stakeout with him in that tin can he calls a car." Hutch walked up behind Starsky and patted his shoulder. "So, partner, what have you and this lovely collection of ladies been up to in my absence?"

Smiling up at his partner, Starsky was pleased to see that Hutch looked relaxed. Whatever he and his father had been arguing about earlier must have been resolved amicably. "Rickie was just telling me some things about the Vetters that are pretty interesting. Sit down and we'll fill you in."

Both Hutch and Richard sat down at the table. Helen bustled about to get coffee for the men and more goodies appeared. Between Starsky and Rickie, they retold the information on Chris and her "accidents." Richard was frowning darkly by the time the pair had finished.

"Erica, have you told your father any of this?" Richard questioned his niece.

"No, Uncle. Dad was gone by the time I got up this morning. Mom told me about what was going on and we came over here to see what we could do to help." Rickie was back to reducing the muffin on her plate to even smaller crumbs. Her eyes were also suspiciously bright.

"Rickie, honey, what's the matter?" Hutch was sitting beside Rickie and he leaned forward to look into her face.

The girl poked at the remains on her plate and sighed. "I can't help thinking that this whole mess is my fault somehow. I'd wondered for a long time about Chris and her family but I never said anything. I should have told *somebody*. My dad's a lawyer. He'd have known what to do. Or I could have told Dennis. Heck, I could even have phoned you up, Ken, and asked you what to do. Instead, I kept quiet and looked the other way. Maybe if I'd spoken up sooner - if maybe Chris wasn't used to being hurt - she wouldn't have gotten herself into this."

Rickie's sigh tugged at Starsky's heart. He squeezed the small hand he still held. "Sweetheart, you're not to blame for any of this. Look at all the adults in Chris' life that never took responsibility. Hutch and I have worked lots of child abuse cases and you'd be amazed how long it takes before anyone says anything. Usually it's not until it's too late to save the child that anything is done. At least Chris may stand a chance now that all of this is out in the open. We just have to find out the truth."

Tear-filled eyes stared up at him. "David...do you think...I mean." Rickie was getting more upset by the minute. Both partners moved closer to her - Hutch to put an arm around her shoulders and Starsky so that his knees were touching Rickie's leg and he could hold her hand in both of his.

Looking from one pair of compassionate blue eyes to the other, Rickie took a big gulp of air. "Do you think it's possible that Chris' father could have done this to her? I mean...he's her *father* for cripe's sake." Rickie said the last in a breathless whisper. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

Hutch stroked the long blonde hair lying across the hunched shoulders, "I know it's hard for you to imagine a father doing something like that to their child, but it happens. Far too often, I'm afraid. Sometimes we forget how lucky we are to have parents that love us and want to protect, not exploit us." He looked up and smiled sadly at his own parents. "Even when we don't agree with everything they dream for us, we should try not to forget that."

Surprised by the uncomfortable expression on Richard's face and the sad look that crossed Helen's, Starsky wondered. Just what happened between Hutch and his parents all those years ago? They seem to love him, and he them. I wish he'd tell me. His wandering attention was brought back by Rickie's soft sigh.

"I know, Ken. It's just so hard to believe that a father could do that to his own child, you know. I've always been thankful to have parents that love and support me. Even when I screw up." Rickie wiped at her eyes and tried to smile at the hovering men. "Boy, what 'till I tell my friends that I had two handsome men comforting me. They'll be so jealous." She buried her head in Hutch's shoulder and sniffed loudly.

The partners exchanged glances over Rickie's head. Starsky let go of her hand and reached to rub the trembling back. "It's gonna be okay, Rickie. You'll see. They'll find out who really hurt Chris and they'll be punished. And Chris will get the help she needs now that all of this is out in the open. If nothing else, I'll make sure of that."

Liv rose from her chair and came around the table, her face showing her concern for her child. "Rickie, let's go home. I'll call Daddy's office and leave a message for him to call home as soon as he's out of court." She turned to Hutch. "Karl should be free this afternoon. He's at a sentencing hearing this morning but his schedule was open after that."

"Sentencing hearing?" Starsky looked at Hutch with a teasing smile playing across his lips. "I thought you said Karl was the best criminal lawyer in Minnesota. How come he's at a sentencing hearing?"

Laughing lightly, Liv explained. "Even a wonderful lawyer like my husband can't get some clients off. Especially when they've been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Karl's client is a rather silly young man from a very good family who got in with the wrong crowd. He was caught in a stolen car with the trunk full of marijuana. Karl's hoping that because it's the boy's first offense he can get a light sentence. Maybe probation and some community service time or something. His poor parents are devastated." She sighed and ran her hand down her daughter's head. "Come on, honey. Let's go now, and leave Helen and Richard to their guests."

Sniffing, Rickie left the sanctuary of Hutch's shoulder. Wiping her eyes with one hand, she patted Starsky's knee with the other. "Okay. Thanks, guys." She reached up and kissed Hutch on the cheek. "Did I ever tell you that you're my favorite cousin?" Smiling, Rickie surprised Starsky by turning and kissing him too. "And you’re my favorite partner of my favorite cousin." Disengaging herself from the partners' embrace, she pushed back her chair and stood. Wrapping her arm around her mother's waist, Rickie looked at her aunt. "Sorry to be such a cry-baby, Auntie Helen. Thanks for the breakfast." Liv and Rickie left the kitchen, going down the long hallway towards the front door, blonde heads close together.

Katie was the next to push away from the table. "I'd better get going, too. The kids are starting their swimming lessons today. Besides, they've been too quiet out there. Time to check up on the little hooligans. There are times I wish school would be in all year round instead of letting out so early in June." She bent down and laid a gentle kiss on top of her father's head, then left one on her mother's cheek. Pausing beside Hutch's chair, she looked at him fondly.

"You know, Ken, I don't think I've ever told you how proud I am to have you for my big brother. But I am. Even when we were kids and you'd be mean to me, I still was proud of you." Katie wrapped her arms around Hutch's neck and hugged him. "Don't worry. Between Dad, Uncle Karl, and my husband, everything will turn out all right. You'll see. They won't let your partner end up in jail for something he didn't do." She let go of his neck, and turned to Starsky. "And don't you worry either, Dave. None of us are going to let anything happen to someone that Ken loves. Not if we have any say in the matter." For a moment, Starsky could see Hutch in Katie's face. The same determination, the same fierceness, and he felt totally safe for the first time that day. Then she was out the back door yelling for her children.

That left Hutch and Starsky alone with Hutch's parents for the first time since their arrival. An uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen. Starsky stared down at his forgotten coffee cup and wondered what was going to happen now.

Richard was the first to break the silence. "Well, I have to go down to the office for a few hours to clean up some things before we leave. I should be back in time for dinner. Ken, if you need me, call me. The number's beside the phone." He, too, left the table, pausing only to kiss his wife's cheek.

Now they were down to just Helen, Hutch, and Starsky. Helen brushed some crumbs off the table into her hand. Standing, she started to gather dishes without looking at her son or his partner. Her face was unreadable and Starsky began to feel worried.

"Mom, what's going on?" Hutch's voice was loud in the silence of the kitchen even though he hadn't raised his voice.

Her smile was brittle. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing more than this whole thing with the Vetters that is." Helen carried the dishes to the sink and put them in with a little more force than necessary. Leaning against the cupboard, she sighed. "I wanted this time to be a happy one. One where we'd get a chance to know each other as a family again. Get to know David. Now that's been ruined and I'm afraid for both of you. And for your father and me."

Hutch went to his mother and gathered her in his arms. "It'll be okay, Mom. It'll be okay."

"Will it, Ken? Everything has changed so much and I don't know if I can deal with one more problem. Especially when it will hurt you. I'm so sorry, Ken. You have no idea how sorry."

The look that Hutch gave Starsky was full of old pain and fresh fear. Scaring Starsky more than the thought of what he was accused of did.

******

Noon found Starsky alone in the house. Alone except for Hutch. Helen, stating that there wasn't enough food in the house to feed a flea, had gone out to run some errands. Leaving the partners to their own devices.

Hutch had gone into the den to box up personal papers and other documents that his father wanted put into storage. Starsky was throwing together an impromptu lunch of party leftovers and wondering what to do after that. First time we've been alone together other than driving from here to there since we realized what was going on. And what are we doing about it? Not a damn thing.

Staring out the window overlooking the backyard, Starsky thought about how strange life was. Here he was, a man who'd always loved women - as often and as many as he could - *in* love with his best friend of some ten odd years. And his friend was in love with him back. Starsky felt adrift in this big house in this strange town. Adrift in his own life. Everything he had always believed about himself was changing. Along with everything he'd ever believed about Hutch. At this moment in time he felt more fear than he ever remembered feeling. Even more than the time he knew he was dying of poison. At least then Hutch had been in charge and he could always trust Hutch to make things right.

Now he wasn't sure if anything would be right again.

If they couldn't prove that he wasn't the one who raped Chris Vetter, he'd go to jail. To prison. The last place any policeman wanted to go. Death would be preferable because the prisoners - once they knew he was a former police officer - would make his life a living hell. Nothing would protect him from torture, sexual attack, and just plain harassment.

Hutch...oh God, Hutch. If it comes down to that, I don't think I'll let them take me. I'll eat my gun first. What good would I be to you behind bars, especially once they get their hands on me? I know it'll hurt you, babe. But I can't live like that. I just can't. Not even for you.

It wasn't until the strong arm of his partner gathered him close that Starsky realized he was shaking. Hutch turned him around, lifting his chin with one hand so he was forced to look into the sky-blue eyes staring at him. "Starsk, you're white as a sheet. Why?"

For a small second, Starsky thought of lying. Laughing it off and saying, "Nothing, blintz. Nothing." But he couldn't do it. Not while gazing into those loving eyes that seemed to see right down into his soul. "I'm scared, Hutch. If they send me to prison, you know what'll happen. I can't face that. I'll run first. Or something." Starsky tried to control the shudder that traveled through him, but Hutch's closeness undid his last hold on his fear. Especially when Hutch pulled him against his chest and laid his cheek against his head.

"I already told you, partner, there's no way in hell that they're going to send you anywhere. And if worst comes to worst, we'll run together. I promise you that." Hutch's hand was warm on Starsky's back as it made soothing circles along his spine. Starsky felt himself relax against Hutch. Something that felt as natural as breathing. But the fear of what could be - and what might not be - ate at him.

"Hutch?" Starsky pulled back to look once again into his partner's eyes.

"What?" Hutch's face hovered mere inches from his.

"Let's go upstairs. I want to lie down." Starsky's hands had found a home resting on Hutch's waistband.

"Are you feeling sick?" The fierce look on Hutch's face turned gentle and worried.

Starsky shook his head. "No. I want to lie down for awhile. With you."

"Starsk, my parents may be back any minute. We shouldn’t start something we may not be able to finish. Not yet." Hutch's cheeks turned pink. A sign that he didn't totally dislike the idea.

"Your mom said that she was meeting your dad for lunch, then she had things to do that would take her until almost dinner time. And your dad said practically the same thing. Besides, I just want to hold you, not 'start' anything. Please." Starsky put every ounce of the need that pushed at him into that one word.

Hutch gazed down at him, his eyes softening and turning bluer than Starsky ever remembered them being. A hesitant smile flickered across his face. "Okay. We'll go lie down for a bit." Turning, Hutch held Starsky's hand and led him out of the kitchen, down the hallway and up the stairs. Releasing Starsky's hand, Hutch threw his arm across his partner's shoulders and held him close as they walked down the last hall to what had become their shared bedroom.

***

Starsky left Hutch to close the curtains and went into his room to - as he told Hutch - "get something." That something being the medicine for his headaches. One had been niggling at the back of his skull for the last hour or so and he knew that if he didn't take a pill soon he'd have a full-blown, throbbing headache. While they didn't debilitate him, they did make his life an active misery. One he tried to avoid.

He looked at the little bottle in his hand. Thought about the little white pills inside it. He'd gotten the prescription refilled the day before they left LA. Not wanting Hutch to know about his need for them, he'd secreted them in his carry-on, but now Hutch knew and he didn't need to hide them anymore. Were they enough if...? He didn't have his gun, they were on vacation after all, and carrying a gun on a plane without an official reason was never easy. But these tiny tablets carried a punch if too many were taken at once or with alcohol. Something he found out the hard way one night after hitting the bar with Hutch. Could he do it if he had too? He didn't know if he was that brave.

Or that cowardly.

Shaking one pill into his hand, he tucked the bottle back in the pouch he stored them in and went into the bathroom for a drink of water. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, Starsky was startled by the man staring back at him. Face white as paper, eyes huge and dark, Hutch had had every reason to be worried about him. Putting the glass down on the counter, he almost knocked it over when his hand shook. Suddenly desperate, he left the bathroom in a rush.

Hutch had been busy in his short absence. He'd piled pillows along the headboard in comfortable looking mounds and spread out on the bed was a quilt. Starsky - an antique store veteran - knew that this was something really exceptional. And when he looked at the shy smile in his partner's eyes he knew that it meant something special to Hutch.

"That's a beautiful quilt, Hutch. Where'd you get it from?"

Looking down at the quilt, Hutch stroked it fondly. "My grandmother made one for each of us kids when we were born. For when we were married. This is a Double Wedding Ring pattern. See," he lifted one corner. "She embroidered my name here." Starsky walked around the bed to see Hutch's name stitched out in blue floss. Kenneth Richard Hutchinson. "Grandmother said that when us kids got married, she'd put our spouse's name there too."

"Why's Vanessa's name not on it?" Standing beside Hutch, Starsky ran a gentle finger over his partner's name.

Hutch made a tsking noise. "Van didn't like 'country junk' as she put it and wouldn't let me get Grandmother to do it. I left it with Mom, thinking that one day Van would change her mind and see what it meant to me." He glanced up at Starsky, then back down to where his stroking hand had ended up on top of Starsky's. "She never did, and here it stayed."

The hand holding Starsky's clasped it tight. "I thought I'd take it home with me. Now that I have a reason to."

It took Starsky a minute to understand what Hutch meant. Happiness flooded through him, followed by despair. "Hutch. I...." His voice broke. He turned his hand so their fingers intertwined. "You shouldn’t get too used to the idea of us being together." The weight in his chest threatened to choke off his breathing.

Startled blue eyes stared at him. "Not get used to it? Starsky, it's all I think about. You and I being together. Forever. Please don't tell me you're having doubts now." The look on Hutch's face hurt a place deep inside that Starsky never knew existed.

Starsky reached with his free hand to cup Hutch's cheek. Rubbed his thumb along the strong jaw and remembered what it was like to kiss those lips. "No doubts. Never any doubts. Not about us. Oh, but, babe. If things don't go the way they should, if they really do convict me with this, I.... Well, I told you already that I'm not going. And if'n I can't run, I'm still not going." He couldn't look at Hutch anymore. Not at the fear that formed as he spoke. He closed his eyes.

"Starsky, you listen to me." Hutch's voice was cold. Starsky opened his eyes in shock at the tone. The Hutch that glared back at him was the same one that had faced down hired killers and crazed cultists. The man who'd fought to find the person responsible for conspiring to poison Starsky. His partner who would never give up believing that he would live even while he lay dead.

And for the first time in his life, Starsky felt afraid of Hutch.

"You listen and you listen good. I already told you that I'm not going to let them put you in jail for one second. Not while I breathe. You got that? And if, for some outlandish reason it looks like we're not going to be able to prevent that, then we'll run together. No one's going to separate us. Not even you. I don't ever - and I mean, ever - want to hear you talk like that again. You got me?" By the end of Hutch's speech, he was standing. The hands that had been so gently entwined on the quilt were now clenched tightly between their chests. Hutch's other hand gripped one of Starsky's arms. Tight enough to hurt. But it was the cold fury in Hutch's eyes that made Starsky swallow hard.

"Hutch, you're hurting me."

Hutch's eyes softened, remorse flooding them. He let Starsky's arm go and laid the offending hand on Starsky's back. "I'm sorry, Starsk. I didn't mean to hurt you." He leaned in, forehead touching forehead. "I love you. I've never cared about someone the way I care about you and you talking like that scares me to death." He moved his head until cheek touched cheek. "I lost you once. Almost forever. I can't even allow myself to think of losing you again. It scares me too much." Soft lips touched Starsky's cheek. A gentle, quick kiss.

"I'm sorry, Hutch. I'm scared." Starsky pulled in a breath as the room seemed to move around him. He rested his head against Hutch's shoulder. "I just keep thinking about what could happen and I get scared. And mad."

The warm hand on his back moved in small, soothing circles. "I can understand both emotions, buddy. Honest. But why don't you try to hang on to the mad and let me handle the scared part?"

Starsky smiled at the plaintive plea. "Okay. I'll try. But it's awfully hard feeling mad when you're hanging on to me like this." Hutch's hand had stopped its circles and lay flat against his lower back. Hutch tugged at the hand still grasped in his.

"C'mon. You said you wanted to lie down. I've set the alarm for three in case we fall asleep. Or something." Starsky could feel the grin against his cheek. A warmth not born of fear washed through him.

Easing away from the gentle embrace, Starsky reached down and folded back the quilt. Kicked off his shoes and knelt with one knee on the edge of the bed. Hutch was still tightly holding his hand and Starsky used that grasp to pull his partner down into a matching position. Starsky laid his free hand on the back of Hutch's neck and drew him closer until their lips met.

The kiss that followed was as night to day compared with the kiss they'd shared earlier that morning. While their first kiss had been one of a promise fulfilled, this one was pure desire. Strength against strength. Need answering need. Hours seemed to pass as they clung together, mouths exploring, tongues questing, breaths mingling. Starsky felt, for a final brief moment of sanity, as if he'd found the one thing he'd spent his entire life searching for.

Somehow, they managed to stay upright in spite of themselves. Each with a foot braced on the floor and knees touching on the yielding bed. This time it was Hutch who pulled back to smile softly at Starsky. Hutch's hand freed itself from Starsky's grasp and cupped Starsky's cheek. Starsky leaned into that hand, loving the feel of the callused palm against his skin. The way Hutch's thumb rubbed against his cheekbone. And the way Hutch was staring at him, eyes slightly glazed-looking and his lips red and swollen, parted in remembrance.

He wanted to say something. To speak words of love, profound and deep, but his mind was a complete blank. A white wall washed clean of everything but the power of the love he felt for this fair man holding him. Starsky had never known a feeling as intense as the one that was running through his blood. He wanted to drown in the blueness of Hutch's eyes. Get lost in his mouth. Weave his fingers into the corn-silk hair. Join with him body and soul.

Starsky was a bit surprised at the direction his mind was working. Caught up in his love's arms, he wanted to take Hutch and cherish every inch of him. But not with lust or something even as basic as passion. He simply wanted to love Hutch the way he'd always loved him.

Purely. Chastely. And with everything that he was.

For years, he'd admired his tall, intelligent partner. Idolized him for his beauty and sophistication. Adored him for his caring heart and unrelenting compassion. Felt brave in the shade of Hutch's courage. Heartened by his power. Until there were times Starsky lost sight of his own strengths and felt that he only existed because Hutch willed it so. Even during their bad time, before Gunther, he only felt complete when he was near Hutch.

And now this golden person loved him. Was *in* love with him and wanted to be everything to him. Needed Starsky to be everything to Hutch. Starsky found himself breathless with the very idea of Hutch needing him that much. He didn't know if he could survive satisfying that need. But he was willing to die trying.

Letting go of Hutch, Starsky moved his leg on the bed over until he could get the other one up there too. Then Starsky unfolded himself until he was leaning back on the pillows in a partially sitting position. Opening his arms, he invited Hutch to join him. An invitation that his partner readily accepted.

Hutch lay on the bed beside Starsky who gathered Hutch to him, lying the strong body along his own length. Drew the blond head against his shoulder, hitched a leg over Hutch's thigh. Pulled Hutch against him until there was not an inch of air between them. Hutch in turn eased his arms around and under Starsky until they were cradled together.

Their mouths seemed to find each other without direct thought from either of them. This kiss was long and sweet. Starsky's head was swimming when Hutch let him breathe again. And it wasn't just the kiss that made it difficult to see straight. It was the way Hutch was gently running one hand on his stomach, petting him through his shirt. And the words Hutch was whispering in his ear.

"I love you so much, Starsk. I've waited so long to hold you like this. Touch you like this." Each sentence accompanied by another gentle kiss on his lips or his cheek. Hutch slowly rolled onto him, pressing against Starsky's body. Starsky's pulse quickened as he felt Hutch's erection push against his. Hutch cupped Starsky's face with both hands and lavished him with kisses. Until he forgot all about the pain in his head and could only feel Hutch's heat wafting through him.

They lay like that for a long time. Learning about the planes and dimensions of each other's bodies. No strangers were they. Not after years of being as close as they always were. Neither of them had ever been shy of expressing affection with a gentle pat here or a small squeeze there. More than once, one of them had needed to be held by the other, to be comforted or protected.

Everything was different now. And achingly familiar. Starsky knew the way Hutch furrowed his brow when thinking. Knew the sound of Hutch's heartbeat and how his clothes always smelled like cedar and fresh air. The way he looked up through his lashes when he was embarrassed or feeling shy. The little stammer in his voice when nervous and how deep his voice could get when upset. How Hutch's hands felt strong and sure when he needed the strength. Or calm and gentle when he just needed to be held.

Those were all still there. All those feelings...perspectives...observations. Added to by new sensations. Like how the very touch of Hutch's hand against his clothed chest made his heart hammer in his ears. Or the way Hutch's tongue tasted against his and the way his lips were soft and firm at the same time exploring his earlobe. How having Hutch lay on him and move against him made him feel as if he were about to explode. But mostly that he wanted - needed - to be made love to by this and only this one person. Now. And forever.

Hutch's hand had crept down Starsky's body to hover for only a moment before descending to cup Starsky's erection. Even through the thick denim, the heat of Hutch's hand seemed to burn. A fire that matched the one in Starsky's groin as he pushed up into the heated palm. Pulled Hutch closer with his hands that gripped his partner's - his lover's - ass. His whole body felt almost too hot, as if it were about to burst into flame. Almost....

Like a sudden deluge of icy rainwater, a voice from downstairs called up the stairs, "Boys? I'm home."

Hutch froze. Starsky opened eyes he hadn't even been aware he'd closed to look at his partner. Hutch simply stared at him; a look of combined suppressed desire and stunned disbelief settling across his face. His hand still rested on Starsky's retreating erection, then slowly slipped off to lie on his lower stomach. Shaking his head, Hutch muttered one word.

"Damn."

Something about the way Hutch's voice sounded or simply the absurdity of the situation struck Starsky funny. Rolling fully onto his back, he felt a grin pull at his lips. He tried to control it but the look on Hutch's face undid him. Giving in, Starsky chuckled then laughed out loud as Hutch frowned sternly at him and sat up.

"God, Starsky. I'm strangling in my pants, my mother's downstairs - or worse yet, on her way up here - you're half-dressed and you think this is *funny*? I always knew you had a bizarre sense of humor but I didn't realize it was masochistic as well." Hutch tried to maintain his frown but lost the battle when Starsky pointed a shaking finger at him and laughed harder.

Gasping for air, Starsky sat up and wiped tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Hutch. But you should really see your face. And I'm not the only one who's half-dressed. You'd better tuck in your shirt-tail and smooth down your hair before you see your mom." Starsky patted at Hutch's hair where it stuck up on one side. He turned serious for a moment. "Have I ever told you how much I love your hair? The way it always seems to have its own light? How much I love you?" Starsky leaned forward and kissed Hutch's hair where it fell across his forehead. Pulling back, he smiled at his flustered looking partner. "Go talk to your mom, Hutch, and I'll straighten up in here."

He watched as Hutch nodded, slowly crawled off the bed, rearranged his clothing, and left the bedroom. Starsky smiled forlornly as Hutch walked away. He couldn't believe how much he loved this man and it saddened him to think that he might never get the chance to prove to Hutch how much.

Sighing, he climbed off the bed. Tucked his own shirt-tail back into his jeans and searched out his shoes. He looked at the quilt pushed down to the bottom of the rumpled bed. Starsky smoothed the blankets enough that he could pull the quilt up and spread it out flat. Ran a finger over the stitches on one multicolored circle and allowed himself the little daydream of sleeping under this symbol of something he wasn't sure he would be allowed.

Then he followed after Hutch out the door.

NEXT