I know this is a long final posting, but when I read it through, the chapters sort of ran into each other. I hope you agree. Enjoy.

Chapter 23

Was he dead? He didn't feel dead. He felt cold and his body felt somehow light as though something was missing. Starsky came back to consciousness slowly, not wanting to go back to a world of pain and worry. He hugged the darkness to him like a security blanket, trying to find that sense of quiet oblivion again, but it eluded him. Finally he acknowledged that he had to open his eyes and he cracked them apart just a little.

He squinted against the bright early morning sun. Well, it wasn't hell, he thought. No fire and brimstone here. No red devil carrying a pointed trident. But it didn't feel much like the other place either. Oh shit, hadn't it happened yet? He didn't think he could wait out the final minutes. He'd lost the mindset he'd had before. He whimpered to himself, finally admitting to himself how bone crushingly scared he really was. Just someone shoot me and get it over with.

He opened his eyes wider and moved his head a little, sand particles catching in his mahogany curls. Instead of being alone, he saw the body of a man in military uniform next to him. The fog cleared from his mind and he remembered Traff running up the beach towards him and the feeling of utter panic he'd had as he felt Hutch grab him from behind. Shit! Were they waiting with him till he exploded? He couldn't stand the thought. Being alone was preferable to watching his two good friends counting down with him. He groaned as he tried to move, realising his body had stiffened while he'd been unconscious.

Traff had been sitting comfortably staring out at the sea, enjoying the early morning sun on his face as he waited for one or other of the men to wake up again. He was worried about the blond. He'd seen him spitting the blood and had had a cursory look at his side while he'd been out of it. What he saw – the black bruise blossoming over the golden tanned skin and the ominous swelling - worried him, but while Hutch remained unconscious and immobile, no further damage would be done. He'd need to get to a hospital fairly quickly though, to get the fracture checked out and dealt with.

As he felt the movement at his side, Traff looked round and straight into indigo blue eyes looking troubled and angry.

'It's gone Curly. I disarmed it' he said quickly as he saw the beginnings of panic in the brunette, planting a firm hand on Starsky's shoulder.

For a moment, Starsky couldn't take in what he'd said. 'Gone? How'd ya get the combination?' he whispered, the last three days taking its toll and sapping what little energy he'd had left.

'Well if you'd hung around long enough, you're partner there would have told you he hammered it out of one of those body guards' Traff explained patiently, watching the news sink in. He pushed Starsky back down onto the sand as the brunette tried to sit up again.

'Do as you're told for once and rest up a minute' he said kindly.

Starsky massaged the bruise on his jaw, looking hurt. 'Yes Mom. Don't want ya to hit me again'.

'Well you had it coming Curly. I haven't seen you that bloody mad since that day we got you out of Nah Am. I had to shut you up to get at the bomb. If it makes you feel any better, my knuckles aren't doin' so well either'. He held his right hand up and showed bloody grazed fingers.

'I've got to go in a minute and get back to the car. I need to find a phone and let your Captain know you're Ok and then get an ambulance for you and Hutch. I had to wait till one of you woke up to tell you I'm on my way'.

Starsky turned his head and looked at the unconscious blond figure next to him a worried look passing over his face.

'What's wrong with him? He asked struggling to sit up. He realised the light feeling he'd had was the absence of that infernal harness, now reposing on Traff's bag next to him. He shuddered as he saw it and crawled over to the blond.

'He's got a busted rib, I think he's busted his cheek bone and he's probably got a fair sized concussion. He'll be OK but he needs to keep still till the ambulance gets here. Can you sit with him?

Starsky nodded and Traff got up, gathering his bag and the harness together. With a backwards wave of his hand he set off back up the beach to his car.

'Don't go anywhere' he shouted over his shoulder, and was gone.

Starsky was left in the quiet of the early morning, the relief he felt making him almost light headed as he realised just how close he'd come to loosing his life. He looked down at the blond at his side and brushed a wisp of flaxen coloured hair away from the golden forehead.

Even in sleep Hutch looked haggard and bruises showed on his body, standing out clearly against the fair skin. He saw the deep purple bruise under the left eye and the cut laid along the top of it, the bloody, bruised and raw knuckles and, moving the shirt slightly, the horrendous bruise across the lower ribs and round the side.

'Ye Gods, Blintz. What have ya done at yourself?' he said quietly, knowing that his body looked much the same. The matching rib injury and the cut on his face.

But he didn't seem to feel any of the pains anymore. In his sheer joy at being alive, he'd go to hell and back to make sure Blondie was OK. Oh. Wait. He'd just spent the last three days going to hell and back! Starsky shrugged his shoulders philosophically and got back to the job in hand.

He sat for several minutes just looking around him as if with new eyes. The colours of the morning all seemed a little brighter somehow, the breeze a little sweeter and the crash of the waves on the shore a little more musical. He chuckled to himself. Oh shit. I'm getting' all geared up for a soapy scene!

Starsky was woken from his reverie by a low moan. He looked down into the ice blue pools of his partner's eyes staring back at him.

'Hey Blintz. How ya doin?' he asked softly.

Hutch groaned again as he tried to move on the hard sand. 'Been better' he rasped raggedly. Truly he felt as though a herd of elephants was running across his chest, but he didn't want the brunette to know just how bad he really felt.

Starsky put a restraining hand on Hutch's shoulder and without having to use too much force held him down.

'Traff says you're not to move. He's gone to phone Dobey an' get a meat wagon for the two of us' he explained.

Hutch closed his eyes as another wave of pain washed over him. He couldn't contain the low groan and he reached for Starsky's hand as he felt another bout of coughing coming on. The brunette took the hand and held it as he watched his partner coughing up blood and fighting for breath. He soothed the blond brow and eased Hutch back onto the sand when his breathing became easier. The blond lay panting and wheezing, his eyes closed for a moment.

Finally he opened them again, locking on to the deep indigo eyes above him.

'Just get me to your car 'n' I'll be fine' he gasped.

'Oh!...Ah…..no can do' Starsky stammered.

'What d'ya mean, no can do? I've ridden with ya in worse shape than this. Come on Gordo, the sands hard an' I'd much rather go in the striped tomato than wait for an ambulance' he panted.

Starsky looked embarrassed. 'No, I mean no can do' he tried to explain.

Hutch closed his eyes and groaned again. 'Starsk, I can't cope with secrecy right now, just help me up an' get me to the car. I'll be fine'.

'Well that's the thing, Blondie. I could probably get ya to the car, but that'd be about it'.

Hutch scrutinised his partner's face. 'You've not had an accident? The car's OK isn't it? Oh my God, you've totalled it…..'

Starsky cut him off. 'No, the car's fine. It's parked back there a ways, it's just that we couldn't………ah……..we couldn't get in it' he finished in a rush.

Patiently, and with the look of a teacher talking to a particularly dim child, Hutch tried again. 'Why can't we get in the car Starsk? You lost the keys?'

'No. Know exactly where they are'.

'So, go get 'em and get us out of here' Hutch ground out.

He realised the brunette wasn't moving and was looking more uncomfortable by the second.

'Starsk, what did ya do with 'em?' he asked quietly.

'I posted 'em in the mail box' the curly haired man confessed, suddenly extremely embarrassed.

'Say what?' Hutch asked in disbelief. 'Ya posted 'em? Where to?'

'You'.

Hutch was lost for words, the sentiment sinking in. He realised how much his friend must have been hurting in those final hours on his own and how much it must have cost the brunette to make those final arrangements. He put a hand out and rested it on Starsky's knee, ignoring the flash of pain in his side. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks, but he blinked them back fiercely.

'Oh, Starsk. what ya do that for huh? Didn't ya think I'd come lookin' for ya anyway? Starsk, I'd never let you go through all this crap on your own' he whispered.

'I know' the equally quiet reply came. 'That's why I went away. I couldn't bare the thought of you out here with me. Don't ya see Blondie? The thought of you dyin' with me was worse than the thought of goin' alone. It ….it hurt too much' the final was almost inaudible as Starsky rested his head in his hands.

'Yeah, and the thought of you countin' the seconds down on your own would have haunted me for the rest of my life'. Hutch countered. 'You mean more to me 'n' life ya big lug. This is a partnership. Starsky 'n' Hutch. Me 'n' Thee'. He rested his head back on the sand, suddenly overcome with the enormity of what they'd been through, and closed his eyes tight. He was overcome with tiredness and needed some comfort and for this pain in his side and head to go away. He listened for a moment to the eerie call of the seabirds overhead, trying to find a comfortable spot in the sand.

'You've even got my initial on ya, proves were partners' Hutch smiled.

Starsky looked quizzical. 'Initial? What d'ya mean?'

Hutch raised his hand slightly and pointed at the raw red stripes decorating Starsky's body where the straps of the harness had held the explosive. They formed a perfect H.

'Hey, will ya look at that? Starsky murmured. They lapsed into silence.

'Utch?' A whisper on the air.

'Yeah?'

'Thanks'.

'No thanks needed buddy' he groaned.

'Hutch?'

'What?'

'When we get back, can I have the car keys back please?'

Chapter 24

Hutch woke the next day sore and disorientated. He shifted uncomfortably in his bed and felt the pressure of bandages around his chest and the needle in his wrist leading to the IV bag hung at the side of the bed. Vaguely he remembered something about haemothorax and some bastard of a doctor sticking a hose pipe into his side. But at least he could breath easier now.

He lay still a moment trying to orientate himself. Yesterday after he'd had the conversation with Starsky on the beach, things started to go downhill fast. He'd found it increasingly difficult to breath and in the end, the world had become a place of sparkling colour and stars as he fought for each lungful of air. Starsky had been right there at his side the whole time, propping him up, soothing him and holding his hand through the worst of the pain and distress, but just as the ambulance crew stormed up the beach, he'd lost his fight with lucidity and had lapsed into unconsciousness. He had vague memories of the emergency treatment on the beach and the painful transfer to the ambulance and then to hospital. And he had far from vague memories of that doctor sticking a scalpel into his side and skipping back as blood spilled onto the floor of the ER. With easier breathing came relaxation, and whether it was the drugs they'd given him, or just the fatigue of the past few days, he'd slept almost 24 hours straight.

Starsky had watched his partner's titanic battle for breath with growing alarm and had been relieved beyond words when the ambulance crew had arrived to take over care of the blond. He'd sat quietly back as the medics had worked over Hutch's body and it wasn't till Hutch was breathing a little better with assistance that one of the medics got sight of him. To say they were staggered that he was still standing was an understatement and he was more than a little embarrassed when he too was carried from the beach on a stretcher.

He'd fallen asleep in the ambulance and was woken by one of the doctor's shining one of those pen light things in his eyes. He'd been more than a little indignant that they'd woken him up, but they were adamant that he'd have to stay in the hospital for a couple of days to get thoroughly checked out and have his ribs seen to and his many contusions stitched and dressed. A course of antibiotics was also in order as some of the wounds were showing signs of infection. He had a mild fever, but nothing could make him feel bad any more. He'd survived and he was alive. Who could want for more? The first thing he did was demand a phone and tell Ma that he was OK.

And so here they both were, sharing a hospital room again. As Hutch woke up slowly, he realised the brunette was out of bed and sitting at his bedside keeping watch. He smiled at his partner, seeing the multiple dressings on Starsky's chest and sides and the matching strapping around his ribs.

'Hey look. We match' he rasped, pointing at Starsky's chest.

'Terrific' the brunette retorted with a grin. 'Now shut up an' go back to sleep. The sooner you're better the sooner we can make a bid for freedom'.

But Hutch was snuggling down anyway. 'What's the rush?' he asked drowsily. 'Saw a cute little nurse a while ago'.

The brunette snorted. 'Ya might have Blintz, 'but we got the eighty year old Joan Rivers look alike. If that's your idea of fun, she's all yours'.

At that moment the nurse in question appeared at the doorway.

'Mr Starsky, will you please get back into bed, you're pulling at your IV. Do you wish me to have to sedate you?' She tutted at his bare chest and feet. 'Walking around the hospital half naked!'

Starsky stood and put his hand to the drawstring of his pyjama pants. In his best Bogart voice he said 'Whatsa matter shweetheart. Ya want the whole show?'

The nurse gave a frightened look and squeaked before exiting quickly. The brunette grinned but padded obediently over to his own bed and got in. He was tired, sore and stiff, but happy that he and the Blintz were still in one piece. He snuggled down onto the clean crisp sheets and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to claim him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Later that same day, the cops had a string of visitors. The first was the dear familiar frame of Tom Trafford, hovering at the door to their room, looking uncomfortable in the hospital environs.

Starsky saw him first.

'Hi Traff' he struggled to sit upright, hampered by the drip and the bandages.

Traff walked over to the chair set between the two beds. 'God, I hate cops who lie down on the job' he smirked.

Starsky looked hurt. 'You know me Traff. Do some of my best work in bed' he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

'Well no change there then' Traff laughed. 'Just came to make sure you're both OK. Got a call this morning. I have to ship out tomorrow, so I came to say goodbye'.

Hutch was sorry the military man was going. In the short time he'd known him, he liked the man immensely. 'Thanks for everything Buddy. Couldn't have done it without you'.

'Hey, don't mention it. Anything for the pleasure of belting Curly here' he grinned at the brunette who was fingering the blue bruise on his jaw.

'Where ya going?' Hutch asked, curious.

Traff shook his head looking apologetic. 'Can't say. Classified' he explained. He got up to leave. 'Just came by to make sure you're both OK, so I'll see you around. Its been…..'

'A blast' Starsky finished for his old friend. 'Jeez Traff, find some different puns will ya? That one was goin' back in 'Nam!' But he put his hand out and pulled his friend into a bear hug.

Traff returned the hug and with a quick wave to Hutch and no backward glance, he left.

'I like that guy' Hutch said after he'd gone.

'Yeah, he's a good friend. I've known him a long time an' he's never changed' Starsky admitted. 'I'd trust my life to him'.

'He told me about your tour in 'Nam' Hutch said quietly.

'Oh shit, he didn't! Yeah, he was the one that found me after Sharpe finally told 'em where I was. Bet he laid all the gruesome stuff on thick. He always likes to brag 'bout how he patched me up an' got me out. Still says I owe him' he smiled fondly.' Guess I do now'.

Hutch didn't push, knowing this was not the time he wanted to talk about that period in his partner's life, but one day he'd get the brunette to open up. Just not today. Today was for celebrations, not bad memories.

The silence was broken once again as a whole host of people made their appearance. First came a small black bundle of energy in the form of Rosie Dobey. She cannoned into the room shouting 'Uncle Dave, Uncle Ken!' at the top of her voice. She was followed rather more quietly by the little figure of Mae Lin and her Mother, Zhao Qing. As Rosie sat on Hutch's bed with the big blonde's arm around her, Mae Lin climbed up onto Starsky's. She kept a little distance as she eyed the drip and all the bandages, unsure of she should go any closer.

'Hey sweetie' the brunette said gently. 'C'm'ere an' give me a hug'. Her face lit up and she crawled up the bed, nestling into the brunette's side like she belonged there, smiling up into his face. He squeezed her gently to him and looked over her head to Zhao.

The Chinese woman looked a little better than the last time they'd seen her. The dark shadows had gone from under her eyes and she was moving less stiffly. Very formally she bowed from the waist and stood at the side of the brunette's bed.

'We both wanted to come to thank you' she explained. 'Your Captain Dobey has arranged for us to go back to China. Too many bad memories here, and I miss my parents' she said with a sad smile. 'If it had not been for you and Detective Hutchinson, I would still be in that place' she shuddered slightly.

Starsky smiled at her. 'I'm glad things worked out for you. Sorry you have to go, though' he looked back at the little girl nestled against him. 'kinda miss this' he said.

Mae Lin and Zhao stayed another few minutes but left as the big bulk of Dobey appeared at the door. He stood back to let the two Chinese leave, then flopped down into the chair between the two men.

'Rosie, why not go and get your Pop a soda huh?' he asked his daughter and gave her a $5 bill. 'And some candy for you, but don't tell your Mom' he continued conspiratorially. The little girl giggled, slipped of Hutch's bed and skipped out of the room.

There was silence for a moment. Dobey coughed self consciously. He hated hospitals even more than the two men in the beds and always felt claustrophobic.

'You two OK now?' he asked.

They both nodded.

'What happened to DeMaine and Grice?' Hutch asked, remembering he'd left the white haired industrialist cuffed to a desk in a locked room.

'We picked Grice up right after the trade' Dobey explained, seeing the blank look on the brunettes face. 'Then we went back to that club an' found DeMaine where you'd left him, whimperin' and cryin' about how he was a businessman and how dare we. Well we told him how we dare and now the both of 'em are in custody without bail, pending further enquiries'.

'Someone want to run all this past me?' Starsky asked, realising there was so much he didn't know about what went on the day before.

Hutch looked over at him. 'Well if ya will cut an' run Gordo, what d'ya expect? I'll fill ya in later'.

Dobey got up to leave, but paused at the door.

'You OK now Starsky?' he asked

The brunette looked surprised at being singled out. 'Yeah, couldn't be better, why?'

The Captain walked back over to the bed, fishing in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to the curly haired man in the bed. 'Seems you enjoyed your "final" drive a little too much'.

'Whats this?' Starsky asked carefully

'Speeding ticket. You were clocked doin' 100 in a 40 zone'.

Starsky started to protest as Dobey hurriedly left the room, leaving Hutch whimpering in pain as his laughter jostled his broken rib.

The brunette lay back on his pillows looking smug.

'S'OK Hutch. No problem' he looked at the $100 fine.

'What d'ya mean no problem? Hutch gasped between chuckles.

'The fine is against the registered keeper of the car'.

'Yeah?'

'Well, there we are Blintz, I'm OK' Starsky grinned.

The smile left Hutch's face as he started to cotton on.

'How'd ya figure that?'

'I posted the keys to you, along with the papers. Ya got 21 days to pay!'

He turned over an his side and listened to the shouts coming from the blond in the next bed with an enormous Starsky smile stretched across the handsome face. Some days just got better and better!

----Fin----