This story was Eli's idea. Its her fault - she started it! But then she gave it to me. All credit should go to her - I merely put words to the idea.

This story is a thank you to the ladies out there who so generously give their ideas to writers, encourage, cajole and drive us, but fequently get forgotten in the credits. So to Eli, Brook, Jan and Angie - step up and take a bow!

Disclaimer: I don't own the guys unfortunately - but I always like to damage them a bit.

Feedback: As always is craved, desired and cherished. Be kind, but not too kind and remember - its only a hobby!

Chapter 1

'It seem like a good idea at the time'

Those were the last words that Starsky, gathering the remains of his quickly fading strength had mumbled before collapsing unconscious into Hutch's strong arms, on the roof above Bellamy's apartment.

Starsky had mumbled them right after shooting Bellamy, killing the man and giving up possibly his last chance to live. And he'd done it with the sole and the unselfish purpose of saving Hutch's life from Bellamy's gun.

Now, once Hutch had found the antidote and the medical team had administered it to Starsky, in those hours in which hope fought with dread inside the blonde's soul, and he couldn't do anything but keep his vigil by Starsky's bedside, the words that he had listened to those few short hours ago were replaying again in his mind. There, in that dimly lit ICU room, and while waiting for Starsky to come back to consciousness, Hutch remembered the first time he heard the brunette uttering that same phrase.

A time in which they, together had found themselves for first time in a very difficult predicament...

Some years earlier…

Cadet Hutchinson looked up from the book he was reading, stumbling over the curly haired guy in front of him. Hutchinson had been walking and reading at the same time, trying to assimilate the information from their first few days of lessons and hadn't seen the man in front. He cannoned into the body, sending the slightly shorter man plunging to the ground. He looked over the top of his book in alarm.

'Oh shit! I'm sorry. Here. Let me help you up' he extended a long lightly tanned arm to the man on the ground, who took it and was just about to rise when the books in Hutchinson's arm gave up their fight with gravity and plummeted to the floor, hitting the downed man's leg. Once again the blond Hutchinson apologized.

'Oh my God! Here, let me…'

The man shook his head, a grin on his face. 'S'ok. Please, my body can't cope with any more of your "help"' he stood under his own power and winced as he put his right leg down on the round.

'See, I've hurt you. Let me look' Hutch muttered flustered and embarrassed. He'd found it difficult enough to make friends in this alien environment without having to lame half of the new cadet intake. He bent down to roll up the other man's leg, revealing a bleeding cut on his shin. The curly haired guy tapped him on the shoulder and he looked up.

"I'm Starsky, Dave Starsky' the smiling cadet said, holding out his hand. Hutchinson, looked up from his kneeling position and reached to shake the proffered appendage. The brunette's hand was smaller than his own, but his handshake was firm. It was also confident. But above all, it conveyed a sense of comradeship. And at that moment, what the blond young man needed the most was some friendship. Friendship that none of his fellow cadets in the Academy seemed willing to offer, even after his third day of being among them.

Yeah well…I guess there's no one to blame for that but myself Hutchinson mused forlornly andwell aware ofhis lack of ability to strike up a conversation withany of his companions. While most of the new recruits were already making new friends, sharing work and fun and hanging out together with each other after the day's lessons, Kenneth Hutchinson had the company of his books, his guitar and a few green plants. Those things, besides some of his clothes, were the only stuff he had cared to take with him from the apartment he had shared for a couple of years with his soon-to be ex-wife, Vanessa. But none of those items mattered. The only thing Hutchinson wanted was to find someone whom he could call a friend.

'Um…..come back to my room and I can deal with that cut' he blurted out, needing to make amends.

'S'ok, it's only a scratch! Watcha reading?" Starsky asked with his strong New York drawl, as he followed the tall blond back to his room.

"Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science" Hutchinson answered showing Starsky the cover of the thick book he held in his hands.

"Wow, must be a blast of fun, huh?" Starsky mocked.

"Well, Sergeant Curtis ordered us to read it, to prepare, so I thought I could start with it now." They'd arrived at the door of Hutchinson's room and the blond pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Starsky in.

"Let me guess. You're one of those clean-cut-near-perfect-studious guys who only feels good with his nose buried in a book but who doesn't know shit about real fun, huh?'

Hutchinson's mouth hung open giving him the endearing if slightly goofy look of a goldfish. No one had talked to him in such a direct way before, and he wasn't sure how he should react. In fact, Hutchinson doubted that his response, whatever it could be would impress the curly-haired cadet in the least, so he chose no reaction at all.

Instead he followed him and busied himself with getting together sticking plasters and ointment.

For some seconds, both young men kept silent. Starsky sprawled like a lazy cat in the small bed as Hutchinson dressed the small cut. In an odd sort of way, Starsky enjoyed having someone pay some attention to him in that manner. He was used to being the hub of fun – the joker in the pack. And he'd had to grow up early when his Dad had been killed, becoming the man of the house until he'd been sent to LA. It felt good to have someone – even this dorky stranger look after him. Hutchinson worked on, his hands busy and his brain struggling to find something interesting to say. Finally though, Starsky broke the silence.

'Okay, Hutchinson'. The dark-haired man got to his feet, shaking down the leg of his trouser to hide the large, but professionally applied bandage. 'I'm gonna get going. Thanks for the …erm….sticking plaster. I want to take a shower before suppertime. See ya around?'

"Sure Starsky. See ya." Hutchinson said, watching his fellow cadet departing back with dismay. Nice, Kenny. That was real nice of you! The blond one chastised himself. Bring the guy back to patch up the hole in his leg that you caused and then give him the silent treatment! He stood at the door of his room and watched Starsky walk down the long corridor. The brunette walked with a confident strut in his step, a swagger and wiggle of those lean hips that Hutchinson thought he'd be unable to mimic if his life depended on it. Of course, at that point, he was quite sure that Starsky wouldn't feel like trying to have another conversation with him any time soon and though he hadn't expected to feel this way, he was sorry for it.

Just keep a tight hold of your books next time huh? He thought grimly,resigned to his fate of being, as he mercilessly labelled himself 'the most boring and unpopular cadet in the Academy's history'. He closed the door reluctantly, shutting out the world, ready to go back to his lonely existence. It was near suppertime, so after a brief shower and change of clothes, Hutchinson headed to the dinning room. He picked his meal at the self-service counter; a green salad, a bowl of minestrone and an apple for dessert and headed with his tray towards one of the few empty tables in the large room. He wanted so badly to mingle with the other cadets, to be one of them and share jokes and a little idle chat after the day lessons, but he was just too shy to try it and instead he sighed deeply, selected a chair in a corner and looked at his plate. Silently, sitting alone with own thoughts, Hutchinson began eating his meal. His loneliness at the table though, lasted only a few minutes…

"Mind if I sit here, Blondie?" a voice asked at his back.

Oh my God – he came back for round two!

The blond turned his head to see the same curly haired guy who he'd maimed earlier. He was holding in his hands a tray filled with which seemed to be food enough to feed half the recruits in the dinning room and as Hutchinson watched, he was already sitting down in a chair across, not waiting for a reply. The brunette's short curls were still wet from his recent shower and he had gotten rid of the necktie of his dark uniform. He had also unbuttoned the three upper buttons in his shirt, whose tails hung lose over his pants and a sprout of curly hair from his chest poked out of the opening. Though he still wore the black uniform instead of changing into "civvies" to Hutchinson, Starsky somehow looked casual and comfortable in the clothes.

'Um….hi. I …um….promise not to throw anything else at ya' Hutchinson smiled shyly. In the short time that they'd spent in the Academy, and thanks to his vibrant personality, Starsky had already become very popular. The blond had never seen him alone but even so, that cheerful, outgoing and popular man had decided to share dinner with him. So far, Hutchinson didn't want to find out why. He only wanted to enjoy the company. Maybe he enjoys being around a Klutz, Kenny. You could throw your apple at him. Maybe give him a concussion next time! Hutchinson mused ironically.

Starsky was talking to him. 'Hey, I thrive on pain! When I saw those books fallin' I just had ta get underneath 'em – seemed like a good idea at the time! But' he put his hand up to stop the fork full of green leaves on its way to Hutchinson's mouth. 'Listen pal. Let's settle a few things here. I'm not real good with long names – Hutchinson. There's just too many syllables!" Starsky began, while popping a few French fries into his mouth. "Too much of a mouthful for me, so I think from now on, I am gonna to call ya Hutch." He stopped chewing, looking intensely pleased with himself.

'You're going to call me what? What's wrong with my name?' Hutch asked bracing himself for the reply. He'd starting to realize that he could expect any sort of bizarre answer from Starsky after the mouthful the brunette had given him at his room.

"Nothing's wrong with your name, I guess. But I told you, it's too much. It's not snappy. Doesn't have that "je ne sais quoi".

Hutch's eyes flew open at the little bit of French coming from those New York lips. It didn't sit right with the persona of an ill educated slum kid that Starsky tried hard to put over. There was definitely more to this by than met the eye and Hutchinson decided, if he got the chance, he'd like to find out more.

Starsky was continuing, oblivious to the stir he'd just caused. 'Besides, Hutchinson doesn't suit you. Neither does Ken, Kenneth or Kenny for all that matters."

'It's the name my Mom gave me' Hutch stated hesitantly, suddenly realising this was his chance to divest himself of the last vestiges of his old life and take on the new, confident persona he'd always longed for. Taking a deep breath he considered.

'OK. Either Richard – my middle name – or Hutch. Your choice'.

'Fine. Richard's just as dorky as Ken. From now on you'll be just Hutch. Take it or leave it." Starsky said nonchalantly, never stopping his chewing. 'By the way…that's all you're having for dinner?'

'Yes. Why?' Hutch asked looking at Starsky with puzzlement.

'It aint enough. And way too healthy for a guy in his early twenties. It's rabbit food."

'Rabbits don't eat minestrone, Starsky' Hutch objected.

'Yeah, okay, whatever'. Starsky waved his hand. 'It's too little food anyway. Before midnight you'll be starving'.

'Before midnight I'll be sleeping like a baby. I think I am too tired to feel hungry'.

'If you say so'. Starsky shrugged before eating a large bite of one of the two burgers in his plate.

During their dinner, both cadets talked about trivial matters. Soon, and for first time since he had joined the Academy, Hutch was feeling truly at ease with someone else. Starsky had the self-assurance Hutch had always lacked, and obviously had the manners, or rather the lack of them that would make his family and friends in Duluth cringe in disgust. The brunette was obviously intelligent although he endeavoured to hide it well, but he had an overwhelming charisma, an appeal that came from his very core, from his expressive eyes, his crooked smile and cocky yet friendly attitude. And somehow, deep inside, Hutch knew that the man sitting across from him was someone caring and trustworthy. More so than anyone else he had crossed paths with in his not too long life.

'Hey, Hutch' Starsky asked then, pouring more ketchup onto his last fries 'Whatcha going to do tomorrow evening? Got plans?'

'Plans?' Hutch echoed.

'Yeah, ya know, plans. It's Friday. The weekend. So maybe, after classes, you, me and a few of the guys could go into the city to grab a bite to eat. Maybe hit a nightclub or something...Ya know; some dancing with a nice chick, a few beers… the normal stuff'.

'Oh um...I don't think I…" Hutch didn't want to refuse, but even so, that was just what he was heading to do.

"I'll let you borrow the black shirt my Aunt Rose gave me for Christmas. With it and those blond good looks of yours, all the ladies in the nightclub are gonna faint at your feet." Starsky joked. It truly seemed like he wasn't going to accept a 'no' for an answer, so Hutch gave up.

'Okay, Starsky. You win' he held his hands up in defeat. "But if you don't mind, I'll stick with my own shirt."

'Whatever you want, Blondie'. The brunette ended his supper and got to his feet to take his tray to one of the carts where the dirty dishes were being piled up.

'Starsky?' Hutch got also to his feet and followed.

'Yeah?'

'Thanks…you know. For…'

'Hey, would I do anything else for the guy who ran me down?' Starsky grinned. S'ok…See ya, Hutch'. Starsky answered, casually dismissing what he knew Hutch wanted to say. He'd seen the blond guy's discomfort in their first few days at the Academy and he hated that someone should feel so alienated. He was sensitive enough to understand the blonde's need for company and truly, he liked the guy. There was something about Hutch that he felt comfortable with and he liked that feeling.

'We'll meet here tomorrow morning for breakfast, Ok?'

'Erm…yeah….ok'.

'Now I'd better go study for a while, before Robbins, my roommate goes to bed and starts snoring. Night, Blondie'.

'Night, Starsky'. Hutch said to the retreating brunette. Then, the blond placed his tray in another cart, and headed to his room too feeling a smile creeping over his face. Somehow that brief first contact with the brunette had given him something to look forward to. He didn't feel as alone and out of place as he'd felt just until a few hours earlier. Somehow, a short while with an almost unknown fellow cadet named David Starsky had been enough to stir awake a confident and amiable part of himself Hutch didn't even know he had and as he got ready for bed he felt happy and contented for this first time since his split with Vanessa He got into bed and snuggled against the pillow and as he fell asleep he knew he had a smile on his face.