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.

Warning: "The Chosen" is a paranormal/supernatural dark tale and contains some sexual content, foul language, and hurt scenes that may be offensive to some readers. If this is not your cup of tea, then please refrain from sipping. I truly do not want to offend anyone and it is never my intentions to do so. Please consider yourself warned.

A/N: Aloha everyone,

I hope that your Christmas was a festive and merry one and that the New Year of 2009 will bring you only happiness, health and prosperity. In celebration of the coming new year, I bring you my humble offerings in the form of a gift called, "The Chosen." I will be posting both the prologue and the first chapter together. This is a sequel of sorts to two prior stories I've written in the past. In this story, I will be bringing back the character of Mari, who was the heroin in the story "Episodes". She is one of the few characters that I haven't killed off yet, so I could take her out once more to play with her again. (grin)The other story that is tied to this one, I will reveal later on.

This will be the last story I will be doing for the SH fandom for a while, but I have promised someone very dear to me that I will write another story before the new year is up and hopefully I will return to entertain you once more.

Until then, take care and God bless you all. A heartfelt "Mahalo" goes out to each and everyone of you for your support and kind words throughout the years. It has certainly been a wonderful ride.

Enjoy dear readers . . . this one is for you . . . as always . . .

Much love and light . . . shawne

~The Chosen~

Prologue ~

Bourbon Street, New Orleans

The night sky was awash in garish reds and blues. The antiquated buildings that lined the French Quarter looked almost ominous in the alternating colors that flashed from the squad cars and ambulance that responded to the scene. New Orleans police officers and their forensic team were busy gathering evidence and keeping the usually rowdy crowd of patrons that frequented the all night bars and establishments on Bourbon Street subdued and quiet, while the boys from the morgue zipped up the decrepit corpse now resting in the body bag.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

The petite Asian woman startled at the familiar rough-edged voice and glanced up at the handsome agent in the suit and tie from where she crouched in the dirty alleyway. Crushed herbs and bones lay undisturbed on the wet lane as the quiet drizzle sprinkled down from the heavens above.

Mari tucked a strand of hair behind an ear, inadvertently shaking the raindrops from her long ebony tresses and bit her lower lip. She knew her partner was attracted to her. It didn't take any psychic abilities to tell her that. Even now, Mari could feel his warm gaze stroking heatedly against her slender body and the seductive look caused her to tremble with need.

Justin Thatcher was a handsome man and he was charming as well. Dark, brown hair, high cheekbones and a chiseled jaw line covered with dark stubble added to the manliness of the agent. Though there were times Mari was tempted to explore their relationship beyond the boundaries of their partnership, she knew she never would. That would be a step that Mari would never take. Theirs was a work related relationship and that was all. No lines would be crossed and Mari would make sure to keep it that way or she would quit. Right now she decided to ignore his question as her gaze roamed over the items at her feet.

Mari looked over the articles that were placed carefully on the intricate geometric design spray-painted onto the dirty walkway under a window of the boarding house where the corpse was found. The spilled blood created a morbid halo around the cracked overturned bowl that once contained the red liquid. The body of a headless chicken, obviously sacrificed for its blood, was dumped uncaringly beside the half full can of orange spray paint.

"It almost looks like some kind of Santaria ritual offering doesn't it?" Mari whispered, as she carefully held her gloved hand just inches above one of the charred bones and closed her eyes. A shudder raced through her slender frame as a vision of sapphire colored eyes swam before her. Mari's breath quickened and she slowly clenched her hand into a fist, opening her almond shaped eyes once more.

David.

Mari sighed and stood. That was weird. She hadn't thought of the curly haired detective in a long time. Seeing those eyes again made her realize how much she missed him. The ruthless pounding in her head increased and she closed her eyes briefly to compensate for the dizziness she suddenly felt. Coming to a historical city like the French Quarter in New Orleans always made her feel ill. Too many emotions and memories, too many things that happened in the past were woven into the fabric of this place bombarding her senses all at once. Being in a place that was filled with so much history never failed to overwhelm Mari to the point of suffocation.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." The Asian woman pressed her lips together as her partner raised a skeptic brow.

"Right!" Thatcher said sarcastically. "That's why you're as white as a ghost and ready to fall down."

Mari smiled and rolled her eyes ignoring her partner's glib response. "And in answer to your previous question, why don't you tell me what I'm thinking," Mari said. "After all, you're the psychic."

"Funny short stuff, real funny! You know my talent isn't psychometry or premonitions."

The tall, dark haired man smiled and reached out a hand to gently encircle the woman's fragile wrist. "You "feel" or "see" anything from running your hand over those cooked bones? I can tell you have one hell of a headache right now."

Sudden warmth flooded Mari's being and she carefully pulled her arm free from her partner's grasp. Dark brown eyes latched briefly onto jade green. "No. I didn't get anything. Really Justin, I'm fine. The headache is already dissipating." Mari cleared her throat and looked around uncomfortably feeling Justin's gaze upon her. "Did you check out the room yet, where the body was found?"

"Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you use my given name?" Justin Thatcher chuckled at the stern look that crossed Mari's face, his eyes looking like sparkling emeralds under the dim streetlight. "Okay, okay . . . sorry." Agent Thatcher grinned, waving a dismissing hand. "I know, we're on a job, but seriously Miyamoto, you need to take a chill-pill and lighten up a little. Life isn't only about death and solving murders, you know. Maybe you should take Franklin up on his offer. You haven't had a vacation for some time now. He said you'd have to use it or you'd lose it, babe."

Mari lifted her shoulders in a shrug, but made no comment to her partner's statement.

The handsome FBI agent sighed softly, green eyes drifting up to the window of the room he'd just left. "Forensics and the cops are going over that bedroom with a fine tooth comb, but I don't think they'll find anything more than what we already know about this case."

"And we aren't any closer to solving this case either. The body count has risen to four with the finding of this John Doe. The only similarity is that each victim is male and they're all found in the same condition, shriveled, almost gray with dehydration." Mari frowned, her voice grew soft as she continued, "It's like their life force was just sucked out of them leaving their bodies dried up and aged. All of those men were in their prime and yet, their corpses looked years older than what they really were. The doctors in the different hospitals couldn't figure out the cause of the victims' demise and it's all we can do to keep this under wraps. If more bodies start turning up this way, Thatcher, and if we don't figure this phenomenon out soon, I'm sure the CDC will be called in. Franklin will have our butts on a plate if that happens."

"Well, tonight's case was different though. The other three guys checked themselves into a hospital before they bit the dust, but the dude tonight was found in a boarding room. And not only was prune man found lying on a hooker's bed, but he was naked too. From the looks of it, he must have had one hell of a good time going out with one of the infamous Bourbon Street Ladies of the Night. At least he must have died with a smile on his face!" Justin's grin faded as he saw the look of disgust that crossed his partner's pretty features. "I was just joking, shortie. Just trying to add some levity to this dismal case."

Mari sighed. "I know. You're always just joking, Thatcher." The slender woman turned her almond shaped eyes to the same window. "Something tells me that we're gonna have a breakthrough soon. I "feel" it. Whoever or whatever is causing these men to die will slip up and when they do we'll be there . . . waiting. We're just one step behind. We just have to figure out the connection between the victims."

"Maybe we won't have to wait too long," Justin Thatcher replied. Mari watched as the tall FBI agent reached into his long black trench coat and pulled out a ragged photo. His gloved fingers flicked the edge of the picture. "I found this on the floor beside the bed and the nightstand. Don't know if it has anything to do with the case though. For all we know it could just be the hooker's next trick."

Mari reached out and took the small snapshot from her partner's hand. Color drained from her high cheekbones and a small gasp escaped her lips as she studied the familiar face.

"What's wrong, Mari?" Justin asked with concern, his hand reaching out to steady the petite woman.

"I know this man," Mari whispered. Erotic images of naked limbs and writhing bodies flashed through her already pounding head. The brief vision faded as Mari sensed her partner stepping closer to her.

Justin frowned as he glanced at the picture, pulling the woman's slender frame against his side, longing to, but refraining his hands from gently running over Mari's dark, silky hair. "You okay?" the tall FBI agent murmured softly, concern evident in the look he gave his partner. At Mari's nod, he continued.

"Who is that?" Justin asked, his dark brow lifting, studying the face of the man in the picture.

Mari took in a deep cleansing breath and stepped away from the warm embrace of her handsome partner. "He's a friend, a detective from Bay City. I haven't seen David Starsky in years."

"Why would his picture be here? Does this friend of yours like to get his jollies with hookers, Miyamoto? Didn't think you would hang with scumbags like that."

Mari turned toward the tall agent, a smug look plastered over her face. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Thatcher?" The oriental woman grinned as her partner frowned. "Relax Justin, David's nothing like you. He's a caring, decent human being." At her partner's scowl, Mari laughed and then said, "David and I are just good friends that's all. He helped me a long time ago. He and his partner, Hutch, saved my life."

"The Interstate Killer?" Justin queried, his dark green eyes hardening in anger as he thought of the deranged murderer that for years had stalked the small woman before him. "This David is the cop who helped you back then?"

"Yes. He nearly lost his life because of me," Mari whispered. "He was stabbed in an alleyway." Mari shook off the residual pain and horror those memories always gave her. "I can never repay Starsky and Hutch for all they did to help me."

"Think he's connected to the case?" Justin asked, taking the picture from Mari's hands to study the curly haired, muscular man. "I mean, why would his picture be here of all places?"

Mari frowned, seeing David's sapphire blue orbs once more in her mind's eye. "I don't know, but maybe I should just take that vacation Franklin wanted me to take. It's been a while since I've gone back, but it'll be nice to see everyone again in Bay City. These people are like family to me."

"Want me to go with?" Justin asked hopefully, dark brows rose in question. "I'd love to meet your "family". I think it's about time you let me into your life a little, Miyamoto. After all, we've been partners for the past three years now."

"Don't remind me how long I've been suffering!" Mari grinned, and then said, "Look, I'm a big girl, Thatcher. I think I can do this one alone and besides, you used up all of your vacation time seeking pleasures of the flesh if I remember correctly. What did you say? You were riding the waves in Hawaii and chasing tanned women in grass skirts until you couldn't walk anymore. You said visiting the islands was the vacation of your life, remember?" Mari laughed as her partner's handsome face masked into a pained expression. He raised a large hand to dramatically place his palm over his heart.

"You wound me with your words, Mari-san." Justin sniffed. "I am a gentleman first and a horny toad second." The handsome agent smiled and gently tucked a long strand of Mari's dark hair behind her ear, his eyes softening with affection. "And besides, there's only one girl I truly want to give my heart to, but right now, she's just not ready yet, I don't think."

Mari stared up into her partner's golden green depths, her velvet brown eyes searching Justin's ruggedly handsome features. She sighed softly and then smiled sweetly, shaking her head, turning away from the tall agent. "I think I'll call Franklin in the morning about that vacation time. You should call him too and clue him in to what we found here in New Orleans before the man splits a gasket."

Justin Thatcher let out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. Disappointment etched his face before he smiled it away, a slight dimple appearing in his left cheek. "Well, if I know Franklin, he already 'knows' what happened here without me giving him the run down. The man's brilliant. His 'talents' far outweighs ours combined."

"Hmm," Mari murmured, only half listening to her partner's ramble about their boss. Her eyes were drawn once more to the picture she still held in her slender hand. The small Asian woman gently traced the curly haired detective's image with her slender finger.

David.

Now that she'd made up her mind, the pull to return to Bay City tugged at her heart. Whatever was killing these men, Mari was certain that David was involved somehow and that he was in danger. It was time to go back, to revisit the people in her past and perhaps this time, she could return the favor and save his life.

~ Chapter One ~

He could feel himself writhing in ecstasy. Their naked bodies twisting and churning, casting strange shadows that moved erotically upon the bedroom wall in an age-old dance of sexual gratification. He glanced over to the mirror and watched their play, loving how they were plastered together by their mingled sweat that dampened the sheets beneath them.

God, it felt so good!

He could feel the internal tightening of her muscles as she sat above him and a gasp of pure pleasure escaped his lips. He held on tight to her rocking hips, his bright blue eyes devouring her glistening torso and lovely breasts. He glanced once more into the mirror, the woman's long black hair floated out like shimmering silk around them. He lifted his hand and reached up to cup a smooth, slippery mound; drawing her down so that his lips could encircle a coral tipped nipple. He could hear her moan softly as he suckled, as his throbbing manhood pistoned in and out of her, knowing he was leading her to the brink, to the climax they both sought.

He frantically pumped his lean hips, feeling his hardness melting into her molten heat, his breathing ragged and irregular. His body tensed and screamed in pleasure. She wrung a cry from him with a twist of her hips, smiling smugly as he spilled his essence inside of her. Still joined and breathing hard, the woman leaned over and kissed him lightly upon the lips; her hot, wet tongue worming its way into his mouth. Turning his head with her hands and sliding her lips to his ear, the woman whispered eerily, "You belong to me . . ."

The strange plea ended in a sibilant hiss as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He watched as the woman righted herself, his own blue eyes widening in horror as he caught sight of the aged man beneath her. All signs of virility and life were gone from the man, seemingly sucked out until nothing was left but shriveled skin and bones as dry as dust…

"Noooo!"

Starsky sat up abruptly in his bed, gasping as the nightmare still dug its hideous talons into him, hearing his residual cry as it echoed against the walls of his bedroom. Struggling to get a hold of his erratic breathing and rapidly beating heart, the dark haired detective turned quickly to stare at himself in the mirror.

Cobalt blue eyes, widened now in horror and fear, stared back at him; blue eyes that swam in a pale face framed by dark riotous curls. He struggled to catch his breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He was fine--not old and dried out like he was in the dream, but young and virile and healthy.

"Just a dream. That's all it was. Just a fucking weird dream." Starsky mumbled, not exactly sure if he said it to state a fact, or if he said it to reassure himself.

Looking at himself in the mirror once more, Starsky shuddered and ran a hand over his sweat-drenched chest feeling his heartbeat slowing down to normal. Dragging the same hand through his unruly curls, the dark haired detective frowned as he moved his legs. Carefully lifting the sheets, Starsky peeked underneath.

"Aww man! Shit. I don't believe this!" the brunet mumbled under his breath.

The disgruntled cop lowered the bedding and lay abruptly back against the pillows, squirming uncomfortably, his mind racing as his neck and cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "Holy crap! Can't believe I had a wet dream! Wait 'til Blondie hears 'bout this one . . . ain't had one of those since I was in high school."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You okay, buddy?" The handsome blond detective frowned as he watched his dark haired counterpart stiffly climb into the LTD, pulling irritably at the stuck door until it slammed shut with a loud protesting groan.

"Yeah. Why you askin'?" Starsky replied, one arm reaching up to rub his aching shoulder.

"Oh . . .nothing." Hutch said stoically, pale blue eyes focused on his side mirror, turning the wheel as he spoke. "Just that you seem wasted this morning that's all."

"Yeah? How so?" Starsky asked, leaning heavily against his side of the door, sapphire blue eyes drifting aimlessly over the pedestrians that roamed along the sidewalk as the Hutch's broken down car pulled into the mainstream of traffic.

"Well, it could be those dark circles under your eyes or the way you seem to have lost the bounce in your stride. Or maybe it's the way you can't seem to sit up straight, or the way you're rubbing your shoulder there, pal."

"Hutch?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up!"

Hutch laughed out loud, his blue eyes softening to the color of the sky as he glanced at his grouchy partner. "Sorry buddy, I'm just worried that's all. You look a little flushed this morning." His partner's muffled snort made the blond's grin widen even more. "Laugh it up Starsk. I know you think I'm being a mother hen, but the flu I had last week isn't anything to laugh at."

"I know," Starsky said. "I took care of you, remember?"

"Yeah, and that's why you're prone to catching it. I was contagious like hell, buddy; and you stayed with me everyday until I got better." Hutch replied, a tinge of guilt could be heard in his words and Starsky sighed.

"You would'a done the same for me, Blintz." The dark haired detective turned to look at his partner. "Me and thee right? Me and thee through thick and thin . . ."

Hutch nodded and chuckled, "Through good times and bad . . ."

"Through sickness and health . . ." Starsky smiled.

"'Til death do us part. Amen!" Hutch said with a firm nod, expecting a humorous snort to come from the brunet at his side. The tall blond glanced over his shoulder at Starsky's lack of response and then frowned as he realized he'd passed their destination. Hutch made a quick turn, swinging the car perfectly until it slid into the space next to the sidewalk fronting the police station. "We're here!" Hutch said dramatically, throwing the car into park with a flick of his wrist.

"T'rrific!" the brunet grunted as he slowly righted himself into a sitting position, rubbing his shoulder where it slammed into the door from his partner's erratic driving. Starsky heaved a heavy sigh, feeling the aches and pains in his whole body. "Anyone ever tell ya that ya need to take driving lessons, Hutchinson?"

"Sorry, buddy. Just wanted to wake you up." Hutch took another long look at his dark haired friend. "You know, you really look like shit, Starsk. Maybe I should run up and tell Dobey that I'm taking you home and putting you to bed."

"Are you propositioning, Blondie?" Starsky joked lamely, reaching for the door handle. "Just in case you ain't up on current events, I don't swing that way."

Hutch snorted and said, "You don't know what you're missing, pal!" The blond detective opened his door to the obnoxious sound of his horn blaring, drawing the attention of several pedestrians until he slammed the car's portal with a hefty push. "Forget the idea of you and me jumping in the sack, buddy. No time right now. I'm sure Dobey already knows we're here."

"Really? What makes you think that?" Starsky said sarcastically as he dragged his heavy body out from the car. "You really need to get that damn horn fixed, Hutch!" The brunet blinked back the sudden wave of dizziness that came over him as he stood, feeling the strong arms of his partner suddenly wrap around his biceps.

"Whoa there, Starsk." Hutch said softly, supporting his friend before he crashed to the pavement. "I got'chya, buddy. How you doing, huh?" The tall blond stooped a little so that he could give his partner the once over. "Think you can make it?"

"'M fine." Starsky said, breathing heavily, shaking his head to clear the residual lightheadedness. The brunet blinked several times then took in a deep breath through his nostrils, letting it out slowly. "Must've forgotten to eat or somethin' … low blood sugar and all that . . ." the brunet smiled lamely.

"Right." Hutch said, unconvinced; concern and worry marring his handsome Nordic features. The past several months had been rough on his dark haired friend. The case they'd just solved had taken its toll on them not only physically, but its devastating effects had severed the relationship between Starsky and Samantha Elliot, a records clerk in the department.

At first, Hutch liked the spunky black haired, green-eyed cop because Samantha made his partner happy. Five months ago when they'd started dating, Starsky had been on cloud nine, coming into the squad room strutting and prancing around; smugly eluding to nights of passionate lovemaking with the buxom brunette. It wasn't too long afterwards that both detectives were put on night surveillance at the docks, trying to solve an on-going drug smuggling case, which often left both men tired and irritable. There was no time anymore to think, much less to cater to a clingy girlfriend who soon grew tired of being stood up for the job. In no time at all, the temperamental and impatient woman gave Starsky an ultimatum and then the dreaded boot out the door. Though Starsky never spoke of it, Hutch knew his partner really cared about the girl and missed her something awful.

The handsome blond glanced over at his partner once more. "You sure you okay? I can take you home right now." As Starsky shook his head, Hutch sighed and said, "Alright c'mon, let's go, you stubborn ass."

"'Kay," Starsky murmured. The brunet attempted to stand on his own, feeling his partner's grip easing slightly. "Really Hutch, I'm fine now. Thanks. Guess I didn't sleep too well last night and I'm payin' for it this mornin'."

"You couldn't sleep?" Hutch queried. "Were you dizzy last night too?"

Starsky rolled his eyes at his overprotective partner. "No. I was fine thank you very much. Jus'wired up or somethin'. Had a weird dream last night."

"About what?" The tall blond asked, and then grinned as he saw his olive toned partner begin to blush. "Must've been some dream you had there, buddy. Haven't seen you blush like that in a long time. Who was the girl?"

"Don' know, but she was incredible! The best sex dream I had in ages, which is pretty pathetic since I haven't had any real sex for a while now. I guess that's why this dream was a wet one." The brunet snorted, his face turning redder at his admission.

"A wet dream, huh?" Hutch laughed. "High school much, Gordo?"

"Yup. Haven't had one of those since I was a kid." Starsky said, his sapphire blue eyes twinkling. "That dream was something else, Hutch. And the chick in it? Man, she was hot! Long black hair all shiny and shimmering . . ."

Hutch shook his head, a huge smile still plastered on his face. "Buddy, you need to get laid real soon or you're gonna have to invest in more sheets."

Starsky smirked. "Either that or where a rubber every night. Cheaper that way!"

Hutch laughed at that. "In any case, we better get a move on it before Dobey starts chewing our asses. He's waiting in his office."

"We in trouble again?" Starsky asked as he followed the blond into the station, shards of pain raced to his brain with every movement of his aching body and the brunet struggled to keep the grimace from his face. Wouldn't do for his partner to see him wincing.

"Don't know," Hutch called over his shoulder as they climbed the steps that led to the squad room, "He just said for us to be there before nine," Hutch added, looking at his watch. "And that would be in three minutes and counting . . ."

"STARSKY? HUTCHINSON? In my office NOW!" The familiar booming voice belted down the hallway causing the detectives to briefly stop and stare at each other.

Starsky snorted then shrugged. "Maybe you better invest in a new watch, Blondie." The dark haired cop laughed as his partner rolled his baby blue eyes.

"C'mon meathead!" Hutch grinned, throwing his arm around his friend's shoulder, "School boys first . . ."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Her mind drifted back to her partner whom she left behind in New Orleans to wrap up their investigation. Getting clearance from Franklin for her vacation had been easy enough, especially since he'd been pushing her to take one. She smiled as she replayed her partner's surprise in her mind's eye . . .

"Three weeks? He gave you three weeks?"

"Yes, three. Count 'em and weep, Thatcher!" Mari said smugly, holding up three slender fingers in the air.

Justin grinned as he turned the car into the lane that led to airport. "If I didn't know better, I'd have thought maybe Franklin owed you a "favor," but since it's you, Miyamoto, and we both know how prudish you are . . . "

"Thatcher?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up!"

Green eyes sparkled with mirth as Justin chuckled and turned to glance at his petite partner. His quiet laughter increased as Mari, still holding up three fingers, slid the two outer fingers down, leaving only the middle one standing.

"Tsk, Tsk Mari-san. That is so very impolite and un-Japanese-like of you to do that." Thatcher said, turning his attention back to the road.

"My father often said," Mari replied softly, using a dramatic oriental dialect. "'To be heard, one must speak the language of the other.' I knew you would understand that gesture loud and clear, Thatcher. I am most honored to accommodate myself to using your "language" so that comprehension can be gleaned." Mari put her hands together and bowed humbly over them, which made her partner laugh even harder.

Turning the wheel, Justin entered the airport. "Yessiree Bob! That's how I like my women . . . humble and submissive. I've always liked them sexy Asian broads!"

Mari blew her bangs up in frustration. "I give up, Justin. There's no helping you."

Justin Thatcher grinned and winked. "MMM-MMM . . . did I ever tell you that I love when you say my name? It just about gives me a hard-on every time you say it, hon."

The dark haired woman smiled and shook her head. "Okay partner, you can just drop me off over at curbside. I'll check in and you can leave . . ."

"Nope. I'll walk with you to the gate. Don't want you to get lost, Miyamoto." Justin

grinned as he parked the car and got out.

"Right!" Mari said with a smile. "Gate number 34. Lead the way, Agent Thatcher."

"Justin, remember?" The tall agent winked, his green eyes twinkling mischievously as he extended his arm to the young woman, waiting for her to take his hand.

Mari snorted then handed her partner her heavy luggage instead. "Here you go, stud."

Justin Thatcher frowned, holding up the suitcase. "Hey, wait a minute," he called, as his partner turned and walked down the corridor to the gate.

"You're a gentleman first and a horny toad second, remember?" Mari threw over her shoulder, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mirth. She quickly walked up to the check-in area, long dark hair swinging provocatively.

Thatcher shook his head and smiled, following obediently behind his petite partner.

They waited, sitting on uncomfortable plastic seats, watching the people coming and going, making small talk until her flight number was called out on the airport PA system.

Mari turned to look up at the handsome agent who stood at the same time she did, warm green eyes captured and held her own with a look that made her heart beat faster. The petite agent cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Well . . ." Mari smiled, feeling a bit awkward all of a sudden. She looked up into the familiar green eyes that seemed to grow softer somehow. "Take care of things here . . . and take care of yourself, Thatcher," she added as an afterthought.

Justin Thatcher chuckled and made puppy dog eyes at his petite partner. "Does that mean you actually care about me, Miyamoto? Be still my beating heart," the green eyed agent drawled dramatically, dark long lashes fluttering coquettishly as he clutched at his chest.

Mari snorted and lifting her slender hand to gently lay it over his heart, her fingers ran lightly along the breast pocket of her partner's suit only to end up playing with his tie. "Care about you? No . . ." she whispered so softly that the tall agent had to bend his head to hear her quiet voice. "It just means that I don't want to go through the hassle of training another partner s'all." Mari grinned and began to turn away when Justin Thatcher suddenly grabbed her hand and whipped her around to kiss her hard upon the lips.

Electricity arced between the couple as travelers and airport staff milled about. Mari suppressed a moan as the kiss gentled to something almost tender, making her head spin with want and desire. She could feel his hands running through her long hair only to press warmly against the line of her back, pulling her even closer to him. His tongue licked at her lips; hesitantly asking permission to enter. She opened her mouth slowly, loving the feel as their tongues merged and played as one.

Coming to her senses, gasping as they broke apart; Mari quickly pushed her partner away. Her eyes were wide with stunned amazement as she traced her reddened lips with her fingers. She could tell Thatcher was affected as well; his pupils were blown with desire leaving only a thin ring of green around the dark center. His eyes softened with affection as he gazed into her eyes.

"Wha' was . . .?" Mari stuttered, her wide, almond shaped eyes searched her partner's face, watching the familiar cocky grin morphing over Justin's look of sudden tenderness.

"That?" Justin interjected, his voice rough with emotion. "That …was to let you know that there will never be another partner in your life that you'll have to train or hassle with." Thatcher smiled gently at the look of confusion on Mari's face. He leaned down to whisper softly into the shell of her ear. "Because my love, I am yours, now and forever until death do us part."

"STARSKY? HUTCHINSON? In my office NOW!"

The sudden bellowing snapped Mari out of her silent musing and she startled as she focused her gaze on the hefty black man sitting before her.

"Sorry." Dobey said gruffly, clearing his throat. "Seems like that's the only way those boys get a move on it."

Mari laughed. Dimples made their appearance with her smile, and she quickly tucked a dark, stray tendril behind her ear. "It's okay, Captain. It's nice to see that some things haven't changed around here."

"It appears you have though . . . a lot." Dobey smiled kindly. "Seems I remember a shy, young woman who jumped at her own shadow when you left us, but look at you now, Mari!" The large black man shook his head with wonder, his dark eyes shining with pride.

"Guess working for the FBI toughened me up some." Mari replied, a shy smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, "Thank you. I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you, Captain."

"I'll hear none of that," Dobey said, waving away the young woman's thanks. "I just gave Reece Franklin your name. You got in all by yourself." Captain Dobey took a sip of coffee from the Styrofoam cup he held. "So I guess Reece really pulled it off and created that Special Crimes Unit he was always dreaming about."

"Yes, he did and he got federal funding for it as well. Gathered psychics and people with special "talents" from one end of the continent to the other, taught and trained them to work together as a team to solve "unsolvable" cases especially if there were any paranormal inklings attached to the crimes. No one really knows that our division exists, Captain, so . . ."

"Yes, I am aware of the ramifications involved so don't worry." Dobey reassured the Asian woman. "The boys don't even know what you're really doing. They just know that you were working towards getting hired by the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I don't think that you . . ."

"'Mornin' Cap."

The slamming of the door against the wall cut short what the large black man was about to say and he glared angrily at the jean-clad, curly haired detective who casually sauntered in, followed closely by the tall, lanky blond who quietly closed the door behind him.

"Starsky! Watch the door!" Dobey scolded, but his scowl soon turned to a smile as he saw the sapphire blue eyes widen with recognition. He turned to look at his other detective whose jaw was hanging open.

"I don't believe it," Hutch whispered, shaking his head with wonder.

"Hi David, Ken." Mari said, rising to her feet. "Remember me?"

To be continued . . .