Chapter 4

Starsky melted into the shadows of the warehouse, his eyes scanning the parking lot of the large building. It was almost midnight, and he'd silently made his way to the area on foot after Hutch had let him out of the car a few blocks back. The night was calm, the moon hanging high, flooding the narrow lot with silvery light. The lone streetlight at the far end of the lot was out, leaving the moon the only illumination.

His eyes settled on his partner as he leaned against his battered LTD. Hutch had insisted on removing the sling, but still held his left arm stiffly. The gold suitcase was resting on the hood of the car, the low light glinting off the handcuffs securing the suitcase to Hutch's left wrist. It had been difficult for Hutch to lift the case, filled as it was with the fake drugs, with his wounded arm, but he'd insisted he'd need his right arm free in case anything went wrong. It wasn't that he didn't trust Starsky to keep things under control, he just didn't want to have both arms out of commission in case things went south. He promised to leave the case on the car if he could so as not to do too much damage to the still painful wound. Starsky hadn't been thrilled about his partner's idea, but conceded that it was a fair compromise and had jokingly cautioned the blond not to do any heavy lifting if he could possibly help it.

Now, as they settled in to wait, Starsky was able to take a good look at his friend.

Hutch was tense – and understandably so. He looked a little better after his short rest back at the apartment and he was no longer flushed, making Starsky assume the antibiotics were doing their job. But he was obviously hurting and, Starsky noted with a pang of anxiety, scared.

Of course, it was only normal to be a little anxious in their line of work – anyone who wasn't scared when dealing with the kind of scum they dealt with was either crazy or dead. Hutch was breathing a bit heavy, but that could be blamed on his current physical condition and Starsky wanted to believe his partner had everything under control. Of course, his friend had never been under this much strain before, and Starsky could only hope that Hutch could control his fear for his father long enough to stick to the plan and not take any unnecessary risks. Starsky had no problem trusting Hutch to protect Richard – it was Hutch's own wellbeing Starsky was worried about. Despite promises to be careful, Starsky knew his partner would do whatever it took to keep his father safe. He could only back his partner's play and cover them both like he knew Hutch expected him to. They had never let each other down when the going got tough, and with all that was at stake, Starsky had no desire to start now.

The sound of a car pulling into the far side of the building caught his attention and he turned to see a dark sedan pulling into the lot. The lights from the car flooded the area, the beams illuminating Hutch as he waited by the LTD. The car came to a stop and the lights were extinguished, leaving the scene bathed in moonlight once again.

Starsky raised the radio to his face and pushed the button. "The curtain is going up," he said quietly. He placed the radio on a nearby crate and lifted his Baretta, aiming it at the passenger door of the sedan as it opened.

shshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshsh

Hutch raised a hand and shielded his eyes as the beams from the car momentarily blinded him. As the car pulled to a stop, he heard the engine die and then the bright lights disappeared, leaving him blinking away the red and green after image from his eyes. He squinted through the sudden darkness as a man he recognized as Peele stepped out of the passenger side of the car, smiling in Hutch's direction before moving back and opening the rear door of the sedan. A man of about 50, with dark hair and an expensive suit, got out and moved to the front of the car, stepping carefully around the broken concrete of the parking lot.

"Detective Hutchinson, I presume," Finch called his greeting across the short distance. The car had pulled to a stop about fifteen yards from the front bumper of the LTD, so the man's voice was easily heard without the need to shout. Finch made a show of looking around the deserted lot, peering into the darkened recesses of the abandoned warehouse. "I assume your partner, Detective Starsky, is around somewhere?"

"He's close," Hutch admitted. He knew Starsky was just inside the warehouse to his left, hidden in the shadows, but with a clear line of sight to both him and Finch. "Where's my father?"

"I told you to come alone, Detective."

"I'm not stupid. You give me my father, you won't have any problem with Starsky," he lied convincingly. Years of undercover work had made them both consummate actors.

Finch pursed his lips, contemplating the detective's words for a moment. He looked behind him to the car and uttered a few words Hutch couldn't quite hear before turning back to the detective. Hutch's eyes were drawn to the driver's side door as it opened and a very large man wearing a short-sleeved polo shirt and slacks stepped out. Even in the dim moonlight, Hutch could see the bulging muscles under the shirt.

Finch motioned behind him and Peele once again opened the rear passenger side door. He pulled a gun and pointed it inside the car. Hutch held his breath as Richard stepped out, his hands bound in front of him with what looked like duct tape. He stumbled once as Peele pushed him, forcing him to the front of the car to stand alongside Finch.

"There, Detective," Finch waved an arm toward Richard. "Just as I promised. Not a mark on him."

Hutch sighed in relief as his eyes roamed over his father in the scant light. "You okay?"

Richard nodded, his breath coming in quick bursts. "I'm fine, Kenneth." His voice was shaking but strong.

"See? Now, where is my merchandise?"

Hutch tilted his head toward the suitcase. "Right here." With his right hand, he flipped the latches on the suitcase and opened it, shifting it slightly on the car hood to display the rows of carefully placed white bags. After a few moments he slammed the lid down, secured the latches and moved his left hand, shaking the set of handcuffs that connected the handle of the suitcase to his wrist.

Finch laughed. "Very clever. Now unlock the handcuffs and bring me the suitcase."

Hutch dug into his pocket and held up the small key. He shook his head. "My father first."

Finch sighed dramatically. "My patience is wearing thin, Detective." He motioned toward Peele who approached, his gun leveled at Richard's head. "I'm not the kind of man who enjoys playing games."

Hutch smiled coldly. "Neither am I." He tossed the key to the ground about three feet in front of him. "Let my father go. He picks up the key, unlocks the cuffs. I'll set the case on the ground, get into my car and leave. Nobody gets hurt."

Finch chuckled and dropped his head, shaking it slowly. "I don't think you understand the game here, Detective Hutchinson. I can have Mr. Peele pull the trigger with one word."

"It'll be the last one you ever utter," Hutch said coldly. "My partner will put a slug in your head. Trust me, he's a good shot. And it won't get your drugs back – but then you won't really care will you? You'll be dead."

He held his breath, waiting for Finch to make a move. He knew they were walking a fine line, baiting the man who held his father's life in his hands, but they were banking on Finch's greed to trump his ego. They were also hoping his desire to keep his business intact would keep him from taking the chance on a possible murder charge. Of course, he doubted Finch would be happy about the kidnapping and extortion charges they planned to throw at him either, but they could explain all that after they got Richard out of the line of fire and Finch and his goons in custody.

Finch stood, regarding the detective for a few moments before emitting a low, rumbling laugh. "I must say, Hutchinson, you are better than I expected."

"Glad I could make your day."

"It's no wonder you managed to beat Ben Forest."

At the mention of Forest's name, Hutch's breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard. "That was a long time ago." He forced himself to respond, cringing at the slight tremble the name brought to his voice.

"Maybe not so long as you'd like, huh?" Finch taunted.

"Are we gonna do business or what, Finch?"

Finch took a deep breath and nodded. "Very well." He motioned for Richard to move forward. "Please, Doctor. Do as your son has requested." He raised his voice to address Hutch again. "But Mr. Peele will accompany him to protect my interests."

As Richard was pushed forward, Peele's gun pressed into his back, Hutch was peripherally aware of the driver moving, opening the back door and reaching into the back seat. As Richard moved closer, the detective could see another, smaller figure emerge from the car, the shoulder length blond hair glowing in the moonlight.

He felt his breath rush out of his lungs as the behemoth forced her to the front of the car, holding her arm cruelly behind her.

Jeannie.

Hutch squeezed his eyes closed as a dull pain wrapped around his chest.

"Damn."

Shshshshshshshshshshshshshshsh

"Damn,"

Starsky muttered the expletive as he recognized the woman Finch's hired muscle had pulled out of the back seat of the car and dragged to the front of the sedan. Her hair was shorter and she was impossibly thinner, but he knew without a doubt it was Jeannie Walton.

That was a wrinkle they hadn't figure on.

A quick look at Hutch told him his partner had recognized her, too. Starsky swore as his Hutch's eyes squeezed tightly for a moment, knowing that their plan had just gotten much more complicated.

Trusting that Hutch could handle Peele, Starsky set his sights on the man holding Jeannie and waited for his partner's signal.

Shshshshshshshshshshshshshshsh

"That's far enough," Hutch said coldly.

Richard and Peele were only a few feet from where the small handcuff key lay on the ground, the glint of reflected moonlight on the metal the only thing distinguishing it from the gray concrete surrounding it.

Peele pulled them to a stop, titling his head to leer up at the detective from his protective stance behind Richard.

"It's been a while, cop. You look a lot better than the last time we met."

Hutch swallowed hard, the voice of the man who'd beaten him all those years ago sending a chill up his spine. "Wish I could say the same."

Peele laughed, an empty, bitter sound. "I was just doing my job, Hutchinson. You know how it is." His lips thinned and one hand came up to rub at his crooked nose. "I didn't appreciate the kick to the face. I owe you for that."

Hutch didn't bother to respond. He shifted his gaze to Richard, who was looking back, his eyes wide, his body stiff with fear.

"It's okay, Dad," he soothed. "We've got this. I just need you to bend all the way down and pick up the key. We'll handle the rest." He raised his brows, hoping his father was intuitive enough to understand what he was telling him to do, but he had no idea if the message was getting through. Funny, he thought, how he and Starsky could know exactly what the other was thinking without words even when they weren't in the others line of sight, and yet here he was, standing only a few yards from his own father, and he had no idea how he would respond.

He could tell Richard was shaking, his eyes wide, his breaths coming in short rasps. But the doctor nodded, a stilting, unsteady movement and Hutch gave him a small smile of encouragement. He pointed to the key and as Richard stooped to retrieve the it, Hutch tightened his hold on the handle of the suitcase, and swung it with all the strength he could muster right into the side of Peele's head. The man dropped like a stone.

Shshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshsh

As soon as Starsky saw Richard lean down, he knew his partner was going to act. He gripped the radio, pressed the button and shouted, "Now! Now! Move in!"

Dropping the radio, he moved out into the lot, his weapon trained on the man holding Jeannie. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hutch swing the suitcase, and was ready, braced as Finch's hired goon reacted and brought his weapon up, aimed toward the three men across the lot.

"Freeze! Police!" he called, watching as the man shifted his aim toward Starsky. "Jeannie! Down!" The woman dropped immediately at the sound of his voice, disappearing out of sight behind the car. Starsky pulled the trigger, two loud bangs echoing against the brick wall of the warehouse. The large man jerked as the slugs from the automatic hit him high in the chest, his face taking on an expression of shock as the gun fell from suddenly lax fingers. As he toppled to the ground, Starsky turned his attention to Finch, who was reaching into his jacket.

"I said freeze, Finch!"

The sounds of tires screeching into the lot filled the air as the back-up units arrived, their lights painting the shadows in sporadic red and blue flashes. Starsky advanced on Finch, pulling his hand from his jacket and tossing the small snub-nosed revolver from the hidden holster onto the ground. Roughly, he shoved the well-dressed mobster against the hood of the car, using his foot to spread the man's legs before stepping back and letting one of the uniformed officers take custody.

"Read him his rights," Starsky ordered harshly. "Make sure this one is by the book."

"Yes sir," the officer responded, pulling Finch's hands behind him and fitting the handcuffs snugly around his wrists.

"My lawyers will eat you for breakfast!" Finch screamed.

"Yeah, yeah." Starsky dismissed the mobster, ignoring his shouted threats and rounded the car to where Jeannie stood, her arms wrapped around her slim torso. He holstered his gun and placed a hand on her arm.

"You okay?" He ducked his head to get a look at her tear-stained face.

She sniffled and nodded, giving him a tremulous smile. "Yeah. Thank you."

He smiled and gave her a curt nod. Jeannie's attention moved to focus behind him and he sighed, reading the look in her eyes. He doubted Hutch was in any condition to face both Jeannie and his father at the same time.

"Not now," Starsky said softly. "Just give him some time."

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "It never seems to be the right time, huh?"

He shook his head sadly.

"Tell him…." She stopped and took a deep breath, her eyes dropping to the ground before one again meeting Starsky's. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

Motioning to another uniformed officer, Starsky instructed him to take care of her, then made his way across the short distance to where another officer was placing handcuffs on an unmoving Peele. Starsky couldn't find it in himself to wonder how bad the guy was hurt. Hutch had hit him squarely with the suitcase and Starsky knew from experience the kind of power his friend could expend when he wanted to.

He stepped around the prone man and made his way to his partner. Hutch was sitting on the concrete, his back up against the wheel of the LTD. Richard was crouched in front of him, his hands busy working at the lock of the handcuffs still securing the gold suitcase to Hutch's left wrist.

Starsky squatted down on the blond's other side, giving him a crooked grin and disapproving shake of the head.

"I thought I told you no heavy lifting, partner?"

Hutch looked from under heavy lashes, returning the grin. "Seemed like a good idea at the time." He turned his head, his eyes searching the crowd of officers. "Jeannie?"

Starsky placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "She's Okay. They took her back to Metro." He didn't elaborate, knowing there would be plenty of time for Hutch to speak with her if he decided to. Whether charges would be filed against Jeannie for being a part of everything or not was up to the D.A. But if she was willing to testify this time, things might go easier on her.

Starsky huffed a laugh and turned his attention to Richard who had finally succeeded in unlocking the cuffs from his son's arm. "You okay, Doc?"

Richard blew out a long breath, puffing out his cheeks in the process then nodded. "That was… something I never want to experience ever again." He looked from Starsky to Hutch then back again. "Please tell me this wasn't a typical day for you two."

Hutch opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it and simply pulled his wounded arm to his chest and leaned his head back, letting his partner take the lead.

Starsky snorted a laugh through his nose. "Nah," he replied. "Hutch hardly ever knocks someone out with a suitcase filled with baby powder."

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Richard and Starsky had ganged up on him and insisted Hutch get his bullet wound checked out at the hospital before heading to Metro to fill out the arrest reports. The pull from the suitcase as he swung it had torn a few of the sutures and he'd agreed to having the wound treated more for the chance to get it numbed for a while than to appease his partner or his father. Of course, he wasn't about to tell either of them that little nugget of truth. He'd let them have their apparent victory believing they'd be much easier to live with if they thought they'd won this round. It also gave him an excuse to have his father checked out and was relieved to find that outside of a few scrapes and bruises from the initial abduction at The Pitts, Richard hadn't been harmed.

When they arrived at Metro, Richard was whisked away by Captain Dobey to give his statement and Starsky and Hutch folded into their chairs in exhaustion.

"How you doing?" Starsky eyed his partner over the piles of unfinished reports on their shared desk. He knew the doctors at the hospital had given Hutch the okay to leave, but he still didn't like the paleness of his partner's face.

"I'll live," Hutch sighed. He slumped in his chair and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. The hospital had given him another sling to hold his arm immobile and between having it strapped down and the local they'd given him when they'd re-sutured it, he was actually feeling very little pain. "Is it just me, Starsk, or has this been a damn long week?"

Starsky snorted a laugh and leaned forward on the desktop. "It ain't just you, partner. I think I'm gonna sleep for 24 hours straight." He yawned for emphasis before slouching down and crossing his arms atop his chest. "So… "

Hutch raised his head. "So?"

"Now that everyone is okay and the bad guys are in a cell, what are you planning on doing about your dad?"

Hutch rubbed a hand across his face and leaned forward, his elbow on the desk, his face buried in his hand. "I don't know, Starsk. I mean it was one thing when he was in trouble, but now… I'm not sure there's anything left to save."

Starsky shook his head, his eyes narrowed. "Uh uh. I saw you when he was in danger, Hutch. You were scared. You can't fake that kind of fear."

"Yeah, I was afraid for him, but… I don't know, Starsk. There's just too much water under the bridge, ya know?"

"You owe it to yourself to try. He's your dad, Hutch."

"No, he's my father. You had a dad. There's a difference."

Starsky nodded, not wanting to reopen that discussion. "Okay. I'll give you that. But your father is right here. And he's finally had to meet you on your terms. He finally got to see just who you really are. You gonna throw that away?"

Hutch sighed, using his hand to rub at the crease between his eyes. "I… I don't know if I can do this, Starsk." His voice was low and Starsky could hear the uncertainty underneath the exhaustion. "I've spent so much of my life hating him."

He knew what it took for Hutch to openly admit that. He'd spent far too long pretending that not having his family behind him didn't matter, that he was perfectly fine on his own, that not having that kind of support wasn't important to him. But Starsky wasn't fooled. He knew Hutch depended on him for that kind of foundation – and he gladly gave everything he could – they both did. But Hutch had spent his life trying to find a way to gain his father's respect. He wasn't going to let his partner blow the one chance he had of making that a reality.

"I know," he said softly. "But I know you, partner. While a part of you was hating him, a little part that you managed to bury very, very deep kept loving him."

Hutch was quiet for a while, his eyes down, focused internally. When he finally spoke, it was merely a whisper. "Maybe. I just… I don't know where to go from here."

"How about you take him out for breakfast?"

Hutch's eyes shifted so that he was looking up at his partner, a hopeful expression on his weary face. "Breakfast, huh? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"And what if it all blows up in my face and I still end up hating him?"

Starsky shrugged, a confident smile lifting both sides of his mouth. "Then at least you'll know you tried. He's right here, Hutch. In our world this time. For the first time, he's seen what we do, how we live, how we cope. You gonna be able to live with yourself if you don't at least try?"

Hutch stared at him for a long moment before his eyes softened, and he returned his partner's smile. "When did you get so smart?"

Starsky's face lit up. "I've always been smart, Partner. I just hide it so I don't intimidate you." He laughed at his partner's eye roll and pushed himself up from the desk. Turning toward the half filled coffee pot behind him, Starsky picked up a cup and poured some of the dark liquid. He moved back to the desk as he took a tentative sip. "S'not too bad. You want some –"

And suddenly realized he was talking to air. Hutch was no longer sitting in the chair across their shared desk and Starsky's eyes were drawn to the swinging doors of the squad room his partner had just passed through. He took another sip as he watched through the large window situated on the front wall as Hutch slowly approached the two women in the dimly lit corridor. He sighed and placed the half-filled cup on the desk, and sat down to organize some of the files littering the surface. "No, I guess you don't."

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Hutch stepped through the swinging doors of the squad room, his eyes on Jeannie Walton as she was being led to one of the interview rooms down the hallway. The woman stopped, her eyes softening at the sight of the tall detective, a tremulous smile on her face.

"Hi, Hutch." Her voice was hushed, almost a whisper.

He nodded once and addressed the female officer escorting her without taking his eyes from his former lover's. "Can we have a minute, Sally?"

The officer looked from her prisoner to the detective, noting the spark of connection and nodded quietly, then slipped down the hallway to the water cooler to give them some semblance of privacy.

"Hi, Jeannie," Hutch finally responded. He lifted a hand toward her shoulder length blonde hair, gently ruffling the ends. "You cut your hair." He smiled as she tilted her head slightly toward his hand. "Looks good."

Jeannie returned his smile. "I've missed you."

Hutch dropped his hand and swallowed hard, his head and his heart vying for control. "I…" He shook his head, not able to return the sentiment. "Are you okay?"

Jeannie nodded, her smile fading, her eyes rimmed with tears. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She laughed self-consciously, shrugging her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around herself. "For… everything. For what Finch did, what happened to your father, for leaving before…" She dropped her eyes, not able to meet his gaze.

"It's done," Hutch said, a shade of sadness coloring the words. "We can't change the past."

"I know," Jeannie nodded. She raised a hand to brush a tear from her cheek. "I'm sorry… I was scared. When I left I didn't know what to do. Forest was gone, you… I couldn't face what he'd done to you. I ran. Right back into the life I'd been tying to escape from to begin with." She laughed again and Hutch could hear the self-loathing in her voice. "Stupid, huh?"

Hutch lightly touched her cheek, his finger stroking the fine plane of her jaw. "You were scared. Scared people do stupid things."

She smiled at the absolution and raised her eyes to meet his. "For a while I convinced myself you'd come after me. I waited."

"I told you I wouldn't."

"I know."

He dropped his hand at the sound of clicking footsteps behind him.

"I'm sorry, Detective," Officer Sally Madison interrupted. "But they're waiting to take her statement."

Hutch nodded, stepping back as Officer Madison took hold of Jeannie's arm and steered her past him toward the interview room.

"Hutch?"

He turned his head at the sound of Jeannie's voice, looking over his shoulder at the face of the woman he once loved. "Yeah?"

"I'll always regret it," she said quietly, though her voice seemed loud in the empty hallway. "Leaving you. Remember that?"

He returned her poignant smile. "I will."

As the two women disappeared down the corridor, Hutch felt his exhaustion press upon him like a physical weight. He slowly shuffled to the long bench on the far side of the hallway and dropped down, leaning his head against the wall. He closed his eyes wearily and sighed.

"She's a beautiful girl."

Hutch jumped at the familiar voice, opening his eyes to see his father standing before him. He hadn't even heard him approach.

Hutch cleared his throat and sat forward on the bench, leaning his good elbow on his thigh. "Yeah, she always was." He craned his neck to look down the hallway, noting the door to Dobey's office standing open. "You done already?"

Richard shook his head. "Not quite yet. The Captain decided we should take a break. Said something about coffee and donuts."

Hutch let himself grin at the Captain's predictable behavior.

"I can see why you'd want to save her." Richard added tentatively.

"Some people don't want to be saved." Hutch shook his head slowly as the truth in his statement sank in.

Richard settled onto the bench and Hutch could feel his father's eyes on him.

"But you still try."

The detective sighed wearily and rubbed his hand across his brow. "It's my job."

"Is that what this was tonight? You just doing your job?"

Hutch looked up sharply, not understanding what his father was asking. "Dad, I'm too tired to play games."

Richard twisted in his seat nervously and looked momentarily down at his hands before shifting his attention to the wall across from the bench. "I… I couldn't see it before. But what you do – protecting people, saving them – it's who you are."

Hutch snorted a laugh. "For all the good it seems to do sometimes."

"Seems to me it does a lot of good." Richard turned his gaze back to his son. "Don't get me wrong, Ken. I would give anything to see you follow in my footsteps, become a doctor, help people the way I do instead of putting yourself in danger, getting shot, or… injected with drugs."

Hutch froze, closing his eyes and hanging his head, the thought of his father knowing what Forest had done to him making his breath catch in his throat. "So they told you."

Richard nodded, even though his son couldn't see the gesture. "Yes. They told me. Finch seemed to relish being able to tell me the story of how that man tortured you. Of how they went to such extremes to make you tell them where Ms. Walton was hiding."

"And I did." Hutch whispered, his voice carrying the despair he hadn't been able to dispel all these years. "I told them where she was."

Richard reached out tentatively, placing a hand on his son's bowed back. "Yes, but you can't carry that around with you forever. You weren't in command of your senses. I'm a doctor. I know the effects heroin can have on a person's mind."

Hutch snorted a laugh. "Now you sound like Starsky."

"He seems like a very intelligent young man," Richard responded with a chuckle, then sobered, leaning forward to match Hutch's pose. "Ken, I never understood why you do what you do – to be honest maybe I didn't want to. I think I was convinced you chose to leave school and become a police officer simply to spite me. I never once considered that you were doing it because it was what you were meant to do."

Hutch turned his head and caught his father's eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm willing to consider that perhaps I was… wrong." Richard cleared his throat as if the admission had been painful. "And I'm saying thank you. Despite everything, you and David both risked your lives to save mine. How many fathers can truly say they know their sons would risk everything to protect them?" He grinned at the stunned look on Hutch's face, then stood and offered his hand. "So, thank you, Ken… or should I call you Hutch?"

The detective couldn't stop the startled laugh that escaped him, but took the proffered hand in his own. "Uh, you should probably stick to Ken."

"Agreed."

A sound from down the hall made both men look, and Hutch nodded to Dobey who was standing outside his office door. The look on the large man's face indicated they were ready to return to business.

Hutch looked up at his father, his eyes searching for something on the familiar face. "So what now?"

Richard shuffled his feet, a gesture that looked unsuited to the normally composed man. "I believe we're almost done. Once we wrap up my statement, your captain said I'm free to return to my hotel and the conference."

"Back to the grind, huh?" Hutch couldn't keep the tinge of disappointment out of his voice. He released his father's hand and lowered his head, his eyes focused on the scuffed linoleum at his feet.

"Something like that." Richard took a step to the side, scrutinizing his son's posture. "You look beat, son. Why don't you go home and get some rest. Captain Dobey said he could have an officer transport me to the hotel when we finish."

Hutch just nodded, his eyes still on the floor.

After a few moments, Richard's shoulders slumped and he turned to begin the long walk back down the hallway.

"Hey Dad?"

At the sound of his son's voice, Richard stopped, his face guarded, his eyes wide.

Hutch smiled and pushed himself from the bench, approaching the older man with a nervous smile. "You hungry?"

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Twenty-four hours later Starsky and Hutch were rested and back in Captain Dobey's office to wrap up the case against Finch and his men. After going over all the statements and the evidence the investigating officers had come across once they'd gotten warrants for Finch's office and other warehouses, Dobey updated them on how the D.A. wanted to proceed , letting them know they were expected in the D.A.'s office later that afternoon. The Bay City Police Department was coordinating with the airline and federal authorities as well as the local police back in Minnesota where the flight had originated to uncover Finch's pipeline. It was a far-reaching investigation that would take a lot of time and manpower and, although they wouldn't be directly involved in the actual investigation, the Feds promised to keep them in the loop and apprise them of any additional indictments they would be handing down against Finch and his organization.

As they were wrapping things up, Joan Meredith knocked on the door and handed Dobey her final report on the theft ring case. Since Starsky was already there, and since they'd never had the time to put that case to bed, they went over the particulars. When Starsky stood to escort his temporary partner to the door, both Dobey and Hutch had enjoyed ribbing their friend about how the two detectives had said their goodbyes.

An hour later, they were out of the station and heading to the police garage in back where Starsky had parked the Torino earlier.

"So," Hutch said as he stepped around the back of the car and came to a stop by the passenger side door. "You and Detective Meredith, huh?"

Starsky shrugged and met his partner's eyes across the top of the car. "I don't know. She's certainly someone I'd like to get to know better. And she definitely smells better than you."

Hutch chuckled. "Should I be putting in a requisition for a new partner, Partner?"

Starsky made a show of pondering the question before he shook his head. "Nah, I finally got you housebroken. Don't think I have the energy to train a new one." He grinned and bobbed his eyebrows a few times. "Besides, I can think of a whole lot of things I'd rather do with Meredith than chase bad guys."

"I'll bet," Hutch laughed.

"What about you?"

"Me?" Hutch placed his good hand on his chest in mock innocence. "I hardly know the woman. Of course, if she's interested in a step up in class, I would gladly accommodate."

Starsky frowned at him. "A step up my ass," he quipped. "I was talking about Jeannie. You plan on seeing her?"

Hutch's smile faded and he dropped his gaze. Slowly, he shook his head. "No. I don't think so. That was over a long time ago. We both made our choices back then." He shrugged and raised his eyes to meet his partner's. "Sometimes things are better left alone."

Starsky nodded knowingly. "So, you want a lift home?" He opened the driver's side door but didn't get in, still looking across the top of the car at Hutch.

Hutch's eyes lost their focus for a moment as he considered the offer. After a beat, he took a deep breath and shook his head. "Think you can drop me off at the Airport Hilton? I think I'll see if my dad's available for lunch."

"What do you think I am, a taxi service?" Starsky put up a token protest as Hutch grinned and disappeared into the passenger seat of the car. He turned to join him, a satisfied smile playing on his face.

"That's my boy," he whispered. He dropped behind the wheel and turned the key, letting the roar of the Torino's engine fill the garage.

The End

Hope you enjoyed this trip back to Bay City. I know I enjoyed writing it. If you have a minute, drop me a line and let me know if you liked it. Thanks for reading! - Sue