Disclaimer This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders to the rights of Starsky and Hutch.

A/N: Aloha everyone,

This story that I am about to present to you is a work in progress. I wanted to take the time to share with you a little background about this story. When summer first started, I had been debating if I should write again, for since I had been on a hiatus for some time, my fingers were rather stiff and rusted. So, I decided to start a writing game to try to motivate my fingers into moving and this story took a life of its own, as so many wonderful and talented writers took up the challenge to play "Tag" with me. This story has been passed along from author to author, each of them taking a chapter and needless to say, it has been so very intriguing to see the story as it took shape, twisting and turning as authors from all parts of the world have added their skill and their creativity into crafting their own chapter, weaving their own special thread into the fabric of the story so that in the end, we would have a beautiful tapestry that we have all created together. Although the story is still being worked upon as we speak, the authors felt that I should start posting. I will be posting this story by chapters; and you will see that each chapter will be written by another awesome writer. We hope you like our combined efforts . . . and now, it is my great pleasure to bring you this tale of intrigue entitled, "Tag . . . You're It!"

Much love and aloha . . .shawne

Tag, You're It!

Chapter 1

(By: Shawne til Dawn)

He didn't know what woke him, didn't know if it was the sunlight streaming through the crack between the drawn curtains or the incessant ringing of the phone on the small table beside his bed. Whatever the case, Starsky groaned softly and irritably reached for the handle of the phone, his left hand fumbling blindly over the nightstand, heavy dark lashes pressed tightly against his cheeks as his brows drew together morphing his once relaxed features into a scowl, right before he buried his head under the pillow to block out the offensive light.

"H'lo?" the dark haired detective mumbled groggily; dragging the receiver under the pillow, nearly toppling the phone from the small nightstand, his mind barely registering the voice on the other end, as the residual heaviness of sleep attempted to drag him under once more. God, he was so tired and his head felt like it was going to explode.

"Starsk? Starsky where the hell have you been?" It was Hutch, and by the sound of his voice the brunet could tell that he was upset. The blond's usually soothing voice was harsh with emotion and it grated on Starky's nerves.

The curly haired brunet grunted and lifted the edge of the pillow to peek at the digital clock. 8:10 a.m. Nothing wrong there . . . he still had plenty of time to jump into the shower and swing by to pick up his partner for work. They didn't need to go in until 9:30 this morning. 'What the hell was Hutch pissed at now?' he wondered, 'Shit, it's still so friggin' early.' His bewildered mind mentally checked off anything he might have said or done to irritate his sensitive partner as the blond's voice came harshly over the other end of the line making the dark haired detective hold the receiver away from his ear, his aching head throbbing and pulsing as he slowly attempted to sit up, shoving the pillow away from him as he carefully dragged his aching body into a sitting position and leaned wearily back against the headboard.

"Starsky? What the hell is going on? Where were you all this time?" Hutch demanded; pressing the handle of the phone tightly against his ear as he listened to the shuffling on the other end, his anxious voice raised a notch as he heard his partner's soft grunts, "Starsk?"

"Sleepin'. . . where else would I be? And you don't have to yell . . .I can hear ya jus' fine!" Starsky grumbled, dragging a hand tiredly through his tousled sable curls. The weary brunet slowly lifted his lashes, dark blue peeping out between lids raised at half-mast to stare dazedly at the wall ahead of him when he heard the blond's exasperated sigh through the telephone.

The curly haired cop sighed heavily too before he finally said, "What's wrong Hutch huh? It's still early . . . we ain't late, so . . ."

"What's wrong?" Hutch reiterated, the harshness in his voice indicating how annoyed he was with his partner, "You've been missing for over a week now and you ask me what's wrong? Starsk . . . we've been searching the city for you . . . there's been an APB out on you this whole time and you ask me what's wrong?"

"Wha'?" Starsky interjected, leaning forward, a frown marring his handsome face as he puzzled over what his partner had just revealed, "Missin'? What are ya talkin' about Hutch, I was just with ya last night . . . at Huggy's . . . pizza and beer . . .'member?"

The heavy crease between the blond's brows deepened as he frowned even more, his mind racing, "Starsk . . . that was over a week ago . . . we had pizza and beer at Huggy's the night before you went missing . . . the night before I found . . ." The tall blond stopped himself, realizing his partner had no clue whatsoever as to all the things that had happened since then.

The dark haired detective heard the pause in his partner's voice and he shook his head to clear the residual grogginess he still felt there as he tried to concentrate on what Hutch was saying. He immediately regretted the motion as the jolting movement caused punishing pain to flare in the side of his skull. Starsky winced, gasping softly as he pressed his fingers against his temples to help alleviate the throbbing pressure that drilled into his head, squinting his eyes against the glare that came from the window.

"Starsk?" Ever attuned to his partner, Hutch could sense that his dark haired companion was in pain, "You okay buddy?"

"Yeah . . . what were you sayin'?" the brunet mumbled, angling his head away from the window's light to look down at his fingers which seemed stiff and swollen, his dark blue eyes widening in horror as he saw the light blue tee shirt he was wearing, "Oh my god . . ." he whispered, his free hand reaching out to touch the dark stains that covered the front of his shirt, his breathing growing short and rapid as he tried to process and understand what it was that he was seeing. He knew it was blood, he knew it wasn't fresh for it was dried and crusty and stiff, and a quick check to his abdomen confirmed that the blood wasn't his.

"Starsk? Talk to me . . . what's going on?"

Hutch's voice coming through the receiver drew Starsky's attention back to the phone he still held in his hand and he pressed it tightly to his ear, taking comfort in knowing that Hutch was on the other end.

"I don' know . . ." the dark haired detective whispered softly, ignoring the burning ache in his limbs and the pounding tempo in his head as he slowly stood, holding onto the edge of the nightstand as he wavered unsteadily, his free hand unconsciously flicking against the dark patch that stained the front of his clothes, "Hutch, I . . . I got blood all over me . . . all over my shirt . . . and it's not mine. Hutch . . .what the hell's goin' on?" the brunet queried, echoing the same question Hutch had asked him just minutes ago, his dark blue eyes drawn once again to the dark, grisly stains that covered the soft blue fabric.

Hutch could feel his skin crawl as the visual picture of his partner covered with blood flashed across his mind's eye, he could hear the contained panic in his friend's voice and the blond immediately lowered his own voice, speaking softly to soothe his dark haired counterpart, "It's okay buddy . . .l-look, stay right there . . . I'll be right over . . . you ah . . . you haven't been out to the living room yet have you?

"No . . . not ye . . ." Starsky's stormy blue eyes shifted to the closed door of his bedroom and he stopped himself in mid-sentence, dark brows bridging together again as he wracked his brains, not remembering how the door got closed in the first place.

The brunet usually made it a point to never shut his door . . . an old childhood habit he and Nicky both shared. After their dad had been gunned down, there was a time when both boys suffered nightmares and their ma had just left their bedroom door open so that she could hear their soft cries and comfort them in the darkness of their room.

"Stark?" Hutch's soft, gentle voice brought the detective back from his unwanted childhood memories.

"Door's closed . . .and ya know it wasn't me who closed it!" Starsky quietly said, lifting the phone while supporting the receiver in the crook between his shoulder and neck as he grabbed his gun from the nightstand's top drawer, squinting as he padded softly by the window towards the door, his detective senses kicking in, his adrenalin picking up as he reached for the doorknob . . .

"Starsk . . . hold on," Hutch said suddenly, the urgency in the blond's voice stopped the brunet in his tracks just as Starsky turned the knob and threw back the door which opened to the living room, cobalt blue eyes widening as he took in the yellow crime scene tape that ran across the front door and around a large area rug that had a huge brownish-red stain in the middle of it, the drawn outline of a body still clearly evident against the threads of the carpet.

The dark haired detective leaned against the doorframe, a small gasp escaping his lips as his back slid against the hard wooden surface of the frame, dragging the phone with him as he sunk slowly to the floor, feeling dizzy and weak all of a sudden, his eyes taking in the scene of a crime that had obviously taken place in his own apartment; he could feel his mind racing, trying to make sense of what it was he was seeing as a strange ringing started up in his ears.

"Starsk? Starsky!" Hutch called out, his heart racing as he heard the soft gasp that came from his partner, knowing he was seeing the horrific remnants of what he, himself, had stumbled upon almost a week ago when he drove over to the brunet's house after his many phone calls remained unanswered. His mind drifted back to that day when he first found his partner missing . . .

Seeing the young woman sprawled out on the floor of his partner's living room was something Hutch would never forget. He had raced over after his last call, his Starsky sense on high alert, worry making him drive recklessly until he reached his partner's place, using his copy of the house key to let himself in. There was blood all over, on the white washed walls, on the curtains, on the sofa, blood covering the dead woman's body, staining the carpet beneath her as it leaked out from the multiple stab wounds that littered her slight form, her sightless green eyes forever locked upon the ceiling, the look of fear and pain and horror forever frozen like a macabre mask upon her pretty face; her mouth opened in a silent scream that still made the blond detective sit up in bed at night, his own mouth opened, as he called out for his partner in the darkness of his bedroom. It shook him to realize that Starsky was missing, that his partner and lifetime friend might be somewhere waiting and hoping for Hutch to rescue him, that he might be hurting or wounded or worse, that he might be dead and his body never retrieved.

Not knowing was killing him. The fruitless searching for his partner's whereabouts this past week nearly drove the blond detective insane with worry and fear. The desperation and despair, the running on false leads, the sleepless nights, the knife with Stansky's fingerprints all over the handle; evidence that pointed to his partner's involvement with the murder of the young woman found in his apartment, the frustration of not knowing what had happened to his friend; all of these made Hutch pointlessly call the brunet's place once more, like he had done everyday since Starsky went MIA, hope rising in his heart as he dialed the number he had committed to memory a long time ago.

In the back of his mind, Hutch could feel the same niggling fear and doubt that always accompanied his dialing and he prepared himself for the pain of hearing the endless ringing on the other end. The tall blond purposely squashed down the dark anger and dread that had taken over his soul as the days passed into a week, as the leads grew colder with each day that went by. He was a cop. He knew that Starsky's chances of being found grew slimmer as each day melted into another, and a part of him wanted to scream out in frustration, especially since the newspapers now had his partner's face on the front page, allegedly accusing him of being a cop gone bad. It was all Hutch could do to keep himself from losing it when the other detectives looked at him in sympathy and compassion as he walked into the squad room yesterday. His mind was racing a mile a minute, so the unexpected shock of hearing someone pick up on the other end of Starsky's phone this morning nearly did him in.

Hearing his partner's muffled, but familiar "H'lo", shook Hutch to the core, instantly releasing the frustrated rage and anxiety that he had kept in check this past week, that red hot emotion that kept him fired up to continue his search, that made him unable to sleep or eat, that gave him the strength to carry on even though his heart was broken came surging to the forefront, and Hutch couldn't disguise the anxiety as he spoke to his newly found partner, but hearing the confusion in Starsky's voice and the soft gasp he made as he saw the grisly scene that awaited him in his own living room made the sensitive blond want to reach out and shelter his bewildered friend.

"Starsky?" Hutch said softly once more, "You okay? Hold on . . . I'll be right there. Starsk? You with me?"

"Yeah . . . yeah jus' . . . jus' gimme a minute," Starsky said softly, his mind befuddled and unclear, trying desperately to fill in the blanks as his head pounded incessantly. The brunet swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, the sight of all that blood smeared over his familiar belongings made him feel queasy and nauseous, "What happened here Hutch?" the dark haired detective whispered, "Wha' . . . what the hell happened here . . . and why don't I remember anythin'?"

Hutch bit his lip in trepidation, "I was hoping you could tell me buddy." The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, broken only by the rapid breathing of the shocked brunet, and that soft sound spurred the blond into action, "Look, just hang on Starsk okay? It'll be all right. Just hang on and once I get there, you and I can figure this whole thing out like we always do. Me and thee okay?" Hutch said softly, hoping those three familiar words would hold his partner together until he got there.

"Yeah . . . 'kay . . . jus' get over here Hutch 'cuz I ain't goin' nowhere." Starsky whispered uneasily before he quietly hung up the phone.

To Be Continued . . . stay tuned to find out who the next author will be . .

- A big mahalo goes out to all involved, and to all who will be involved in the future . . . you guys are so incredible . . . my heart is filled to overflowing . . . each and everyone of you are so very special and I am most blessed indeed. Love and light to you always, Shawne