WHAT IF:  GILLIAN

By

Amye

Thank you to Tonya again for catching my errors!

Gillian Ingram stood at the sideboard trying in vain to reach her boyfriend on the phone.  Her suitcases and purse sitting down next to the sideboard an indicator that she was leaving.  Leaving this apartment, leaving this life.  It was over, she was done.  Answer the phone Ken, please.  ‘Come on.  She looked up startled, as the door to her apartment opened.  In walked her boss- her former boss- she reminded herself.  .  He was alone, and he never went anywhere without either his bodyguard or his mother.  “What are you doing here?”  She asked worriedly, setting down the phone receiver without getting an answer.

“You, uh, shouldn’t have hit Mum.”  Al said as he closed the door quietly behind him.  He took a hesitant step toward her; not wanting to take her life, but unwilling to go against mother.

His phone ringing, Starsky rushed into his apartment, dropping the bag of groceries in his arms on the kitchen table.  He grabbed the phone.  “Yeah?”

“Hey Starsky, It’s Huggy.  I think that chick Gillian is about to get wasted.”

“What’re you talking about?” Asked the out-of-breath detective.

“Well, from what I hear, she and old lady Grossman had a battle.  Sonny-boy’s on his way over to her apartment now.”  The thin, dark man paused and glanced over at the working girl standing next to him.  “And when he gets through with her, I think he’s going after Hutch.”

Images of the creepy mother and son pair, and their slimy hands touching Hutch and Gillian raced through the curly-head at the other end of the phone.  He focused his thoughts and next plan of action.  “Okay, you call Hutch.  You tell him to meet me over at Gillian’s as soon as he can.

Starsky raced over to Gillian’s apartment on Berkley, hoping that he would arrive in time.  Screeching in front of the exclusive apartment complex, Starsky jumped out of the Torino; leaving the lights on and the Mars light flashing.

Starsky knocked on the door lightly calling Gillian’s name.  A thump from the other side of the door gave the detective reason to burst in with his gun pulled.  Sitting on the floor, back against the front wall, was Gillian.  Lying in a fetal position on the floor in front of her was Al Grossman; his hands covering his genitals.  Gillian’s face was red and her breathing was heavy.  Starsky ran over to her and forced her head up to look into her dazed eyes.  “Gillian, look at me?  Are you okay?”

She nodded stiffly and Starsky could see the outline of handprints on her neck where Grossman had tried to strangle her before she was able to neutralize him.  The marks weren’t very dark and would probably fade in a few hours.  But Starsky felt that she needed to be looked at by a medical professional anyways.

Scooting over to Al, Starsky none too gently lifted his left wrist and placed a handcuff around it, twisting the arm behind him so he could latch the other one onto the leg of the end table that sat next to the couch.  The detective then got up and called for a uniform squad to come get his prisoner, and a paramedic unit for the victim.  Then Starsky went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth to wipe Gillian’s face and poured a glass of cold water.

The black and white came within minutes and took their still pained prisoner with them to be booked for assault and attempted murder; not to mention all the other charges that Detectives Hutchinson & Starsky would be piling on from the Grossman’s extortion activities.  In the ten minutes it took for Starsky to call dispatch, get water for Gillian, and for the uniforms to take Grossman away, Gillian had been completely silent.  She stared in front of her and took the glass of water Starsky offered without drinking any.  When Starsky removed the glass from her hand she looked up at her lover’s best friend with tearing eyes.  All of a sudden, the tearing eyes flooded and a gasping sob tore from her frame.  Starsky knelt down and gathered her into his arms to comfort her.  “Sh, Hutch’ll be here soon.  You’ll be okay.”

Gillian shook her head against the firm shoulder.  “Not, not yet.  I….I can’t face him right now.”

Starsky knew she was scared, but he also knew how good Hutch was at comforting.  He didn’t want to disturb Gillian anymore.  So he continued to hold the shaking and sobbing body while rubbing her back, until the paramedics arrived.  The door was still open, so the paramedics knocked once while entering, so as not to upset anyone inside.

“Hey guys.”  Greeted Starsky as he looked up when he heard the knocking.  “She’s over here.”

Both men went over to the attractive blonde still sitting against the wall.  Gillian wiped her eyes with her fingers to compose herself.  Setting down the drug box, medical bag, and relay phone, one of them gently lifted her chin to get a better look at her neck.  “What happened?”  It was fairly obvious to the paramedics that someone had tried to strangle the woman, but they needed to check if there were other injuries elsewhere.

“She was attacked by her former boss.  A creepy little shit named Al Grossman.  I found him lying on the floor on his side holdin’ himself.  Looks like she got in a few kicks.”

The other paramedic called the information into the base station, Memorial Hospital.  Just then Hutch walked through the open door, concerned at first by the paramedic unit outside along with the flashing Torino; then worried when he saw the commotion in Gillian’s apartment.  “What’s going on here?”  He asked in a confused voice?  The blonde took in the appearance of his drawn partner and his lover who had a flushed face and teary eyes.  “This could be interpreted many different ways, so unless someone answer’s me pretty quickly, I’m going to draw my own conclusions.”

Starsky went to his and put his hand out to assure him that everything was now okay.  “Listen Hutch.  Gillian was… she was attacked.  She’s okay, though.  I called the paramedics just to make sure.”

The light blue eyes darted over to the woman on the floor being attended to.  He started to walk over to comfort her, but the hand on his arm stopped him.  “Let her get checked out first.”

“Who did this?  Why?  Was it random?”  His voice dropped.  “Was she..was she raped?”

“No Hutch.  He didn’t want her that way.  He tried to strangle her.”  A tight grin appeared over his thin lips.  “But she got him back before I got here.  She kneed him.”

The blonde looked around the living room of the apartment.  “Where is he?  Did she identify him?”

“I got here, Hutch, before he could compose himself and get away.  He’s already down at he precinct being booked.”

“Anyone we know?  Anyone we’ve put away before?”

Starsky looked up at his partner’s distressed face with one of sadness.  He shook his head toward the paramedics.  “Not now.”  He mouthed quietly.

The paramedic that had been taking Gillian’s vitals stood up to look at the two men standing behind him.  “Are you friends of the victim?” he asked.  His partner began to put everything back into the drug box and medical bag after signing off with Memorial.

Hutch pointed to himself.  “I’m her boyfriend.”

The paramedic nodded “She’s going to be fine.  She has some bruising to her throat muscles, but her esophagus appears okay.  She’ll have a heck of a headache and sore neck for a couple of days, but some Tylenol or aspirin should help with that.  Her blood pressure’s a little high, but that’s to be expected.  We could take her in to make sure it goes down or to give her something to lower it, but she doesn’t want to go.  The emergency room doctor gave me permission to give her a shot of Valium to deal with the shock and the adrenaline rush that she will be coming down from.

Hutch walked over to his seated girlfriend and stooped down to caress her hair.  “Hey,” he said softly.

Gillian, too upset to look up at Hutch, nodded slightly.  Hutch tucked his large hand under her chin and brought her face up to look at him.  Eyes brimming with tears, she saw the compassion in the blonde’s face and lost her control again.  She flung her arms around the broad shoulders and buried her face into his chest.  Her tears streamed down his tan leather jacket like raindrops on glass.

For a few minutes Hutch let her cry against his body.  After she calmed down a bit, he put his left arm around Gillian’s back for support and held onto her right arm with his other hand.  Slowly Hutch helped Gillian to stand up, walk over to the couch, and sit down.  “I’ve got her; she’ll be okay.” Hutch nodded to the two paramedics, giving them permission to leave once they gave her the shot of Valium.

Sitting down next to Gillian, Hutch continued to stroke her hair and rub her back as assurance that he would protect her.  As Gillian came out of her shocked state, her body began to shake; the sedative hadn’t kicked in yet.  Hutch got down on his knees in front of her and began to rub her arms to keep her warm and to reassure her.

When the sedative began to take effect, Gillian started to nod off, so Hutch carefully gathered her in his arms to lay her in her bed.  He looked at Starsky.  “I don’t want to leave her alone tonight.  Will you stay around for a while?  I have some questions.”

Starsky was dreading answering those questions.  He nodded his head while thinking what he could tell Hutch without divulging Gillian’s secret life.  Starsky had promised Gillian that he would give her the chance to tell Hutch the truth; he couldn’t break that promise.

Hutch took his girlfriend into her bedroom and gently laid her on the bed, taking her shoes off and placing them in the closet.  Gillian folded herself into a fetal position on her right side.  Hutch then tucked the light blanket that was folded at the end of the bed around her body and lay down next to her; spooning himself around her back to comfort her.  She lifted her right hand up and grabbed his sturdy arm to satisfy her need for security.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll stay right with you.”  Hutch whispered in her ear.

“Thank you.”  She whispered back.  Even more quietly as she dozed off, she whispered, “I love you Hutch, don’t forget.”  The blonde man gently squeezed her in his strong arms and nuzzled his face against the back of her neck in response.

Within half an hour Gillian was sleeping.  Hutch gently removed his arms from around her and kissed her cheek gently.  He shut the door halfway as he left the bedroom and made his way back to the living room to speak with Starsky.

The curly headed man sat on the couch arms bent over his knees, still contemplating what he was going to tell his best friend.  A cold beer was shoved in front of his lowered face; held by a large tanned hand.  “Thanks.”  Starsky sighed sitting back against the couch as Hutch joined him there.  “Tough night, huh?”

Hutch took a sip of his beer and looked hard at his friend.  “You want to tell me what happened here Starsky?  Why did Gillian call you first?  Why didn’t she call me at all?  The first I knew she was in trouble was when Huggy called looking for me.”

Starsky gulped another swallow of beer in an effort to stall.  But the piercing light blue eyes of the man sitting next to him wouldn’t let up.  “Hutch” he sighed, “can we talk about this another time?”  His lifted his dark blue eyes pleadingly up at his partner.  “I made some promises that I can’t break – at least for now.”

“Why?  Who are you covering for Starsky?  Yourself?”  Asked the heated blonde.

“You don’t really believe that, do you Hutch?  Talk to Gillian first, then come talk to me.”  Starsky finished his beer and stood up to leave, rubbing his hands on his jean clad thighs in nervousness.

For several hours Hutch sat in Gillian’s ever darkening living room without turning on a light.  During one of his trips to the kitchen for a beer, he turned on the radio to a soft jazz station, hoping that the soothing music would temper the questions in his head.  Feeling cozy after five beers, Hutch finally went to lay down next with Gillian to get some rest. His mind wouldn’t let him relax, however, and he laid there for another hour, hands tucked behind his head staring at the ceiling before finally his exhausted body let him rest.

Sunlight began to filter through the beige shears covering the large window in Gillian’s bedroom.  Rays streamed in to light her hair and warm her face.  As she turned onto her back she looked at the empty space next to her in bed.  I could’ve sworn Ken was next to me all night.  As her senses became more alert she realized she was still in the same clothes she had worn yesterday – YESTERDAY!, Oh my God – Grossman!  Every minute of yesterday came flooding back; from the promise she had made to Starsky, to the confrontation with Mrs. Grossman, to the attempted assault from Al.  With a gasping cry, Gillian curled back into herself on the bed.  How am I going to face Ken?  Will he understand?  If he doesn’t, can I bear to lose him?

Hearing her cry of awakening from the kitchen, Hutch paused in his breakfast preparations to go to his lady’s side.  Kneeling on the bed next to her, he rubbed her left shoulder and arm in comfort.  “You okay?”

“Ken.  I’m so sorry.”  She whispered out between the tears running quietly down her face.

Still lightly rubbing her arm, Hutch didn’t answer for a moment, unsure of what she was sorry for.  “Sweetheart, it’ll be okay.”  He gently turned her over to face him, and lifted his hand to wipe away the tears stains on her cheeks.  He lay down and tucked his long body next to her, gathering her close.  The two stayed that way for some minutes before Gillian pulled herself together.

“I guess I should probably get up and face the world, huh?  I know Dave’s gonna want me down at the station to file a report.  I vaguely remember him saying something last night.”

Propping his head up on his bent arm, Hutch brushed some stray dark blonde hair away from Gillian’s eyes.  “You don’t have to go anytime soon.  Why don’t you freshen up and have breakfast first, then we can go from there?  Okay?”

Gillian’s dark green eyes gazed into Hutch’s light blue ones, nodding once.  Hutch got off the bed and walked over to her side.  He grasped her hand and gently pulled her up, helping her into the bathroom.  Loosening the tie on the front of her dress he wrapped his large arms around her waist and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.  Hutch then started the water and pulled a clean towel and washcloth from the linen closet.  “You take as much time as you need.  I’ll finish getting breakfast ready.”

The warm water doing much to improve her faculties, Gillian went into her bedroom to look for more appropriate attire than the fluffy peach towel draped around her torso.  Most of her clothes were packed in anticipation of leaving this place.  But the white bathrobe that Al had given her for Christmas was still hanging on the hook inside her closet.  It gave Al a perverse kick to give all his ‘girls’ something white to wear every Christmas.  The previous Christmas it was a white thick-necked soft rayon sweater.  None of the items from Al were in her suitcases.

After blowing her hair semi-dry, Gillian went into the kitchen to see what Hutch had made for breakfast.  Two places were set with ½ grapefruit, 2 boiled eggs, and a glass of orange juice in front of each setting.  In the center of the table was a fresh bouquet of pastel blue and yellow wildflowers.

“Where did you get those this earlier in the morning?”  Asked Gillian leaning over to smell the spray.

Hutch grinned at her.  “I’m a detective, remember?  I have contacts.”

Gillian smiled for the first time in ages- at least it felt that way to her.  Seeing her smile, Hutch’s face lit up in a similar grin and the two reached out over the table to hold each other’s hands.  They ate silently, not letting go of each other, eyes smiling.

“I want to make my statement as soon as possible.  Can we go after breakfast?”

“Gillian, maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

“I need to Hutch, there’s something else I have to take care of that I can’t do until I get this over with.”

“Okay, after breakfast I’ll call Starsky and see if he’s at the precinct.  You’ll have to make your statement with him since he’s the arresting officer, but I’ll be there with you.”

No you won’t, I won’t let you.  Gillian knew that until she told Hutch about her association with Grossman and his mother she couldn’t discuss what had happened here the previous evening.  But she didn’t want to begin an argument with her boyfriend now; she would wait until they were at the precinct to tell him she would be talking to Dave alone.  Dave knew their connection, and he was there when Al tried to strangle her.  Ken wouldn’t put up an argument in front of everyone at the station.

Without saying anything, Gillian pulled a pair of black slacks and a satin gold lame blouse from one of her suitcases and got dressed and prepared for upcoming matters- first the statement to Starsky, then her talk with Hutch.

Once at the station, Gillian began to tremble.  Hutch held onto her arm, with his left arm behind her back to support her.  He had called Starsky ahead of time to make sure the curly haired man met them at the precinct.  Starsky had made arrangements to take Gillian’s statement in a small interrogation room and had Hutch take her directly there.

Starsky was no where to be found, so Hutch sat Gillian at the table while he went in search of his partner, and for a cup of water for Gillian.  The dark half of the 9^th precinct’s ‘dynamic duo’, as they were sometimes called, was sitting at his desk, feet propped up at the end, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Hey there partner.”  Called the blonde as he walked into his squad room.  The address startled Starsky and he tipped back in his chair, his legs rising up off the desk as he tried to get his balance and stop the small amount of coffee in the cup from spilling.

Starsky strained his neck backward to see his other half suppressing laughter.  “Geez Hutch, ya gotta stop that.  One of these days I’m gonna choke and then you’ll be sorry.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Cause then you’d have to give me mouth to mouth.”  Came the retort with a sarcastic grin.

The smile was immediately wiped off the pale face and replaced with faux horror.  “Oh God, anything but that!”

Just then the double doors to the squad room opened and the two detectives’ Captain made his presence known.  Though a large man, it was his personality and authority that made him seem larger than everyone else, rather than his bulk.  “Hutchinson, Starsky, why aren’t you working?!”

Starsky got up at the sound of the booming voice.  “Just got in Captain, I have a statement to take from an assault victim.  Hutch’s girlfriend.”

Hutch grabbed an empty cup from next to the coffee pot.  “Me too.  I’m just getting her a cup of water.”

“Uh, I don’t know if you should be there Hutch.  You’re too close.”

“Starsky, this is my girlfriend.  If someone tried to make a hit on her, I have to be there to support her.  I promise I won’t get in the way of your questioning.”

Starsky knew he’d have a hard time convincing his partner to stay away.  He was pretty sure though that Gillian wouldn’t want Hutch to hear about her ‘real’ profession this way, so he told his partner he’d leave the decision up to Gillian.

“Fine” replied the blonde, confident that his girlfriend would want him to lean on for comfort.

But once they got to the interrogation room where Gillian was waiting, Hutch found her standing by the doorway, blocking his entrance.  She took the cup of water from his hands and pleaded with her blonde lover that she do this alone.

“Ken, I have to find the strength to deal with this myself.”

“But sweetheart, I just want to be there for you.”  He paused, seeing the determination in her smoky green eyes.  “But only if you need me.”

Gillian put her hand up to Hutch’s upper arm.  “I’ll be okay Ken, I promise.”

“Gillian…..”

The large green eyes pleaded with him to understand.

Hutch sighed, not liking her request, but too gentlemanly to push the issue.  “Okay, but I’ll be right outside watching through the window, so if you need me, just signal or tell Starsky.”

Gillian closed the door and Hutch watched her through the door window, before going to the large wall window to keep watch.

Giving her statement to Hutch’s best friend, who also knew about her profession, was one of the hardest things Gillian had ever done.  Tears of frustration and disgust fell quietly down her cheeks.  Frustration that she wasn’t able to take charge of her life before this, and disgust that Al had put his sleazy hands on her.

Starsky stopped his questioning for a minute to let Gillian gather herself.  He held her trembling hand and wiped the tears on her cheeks with his thumb.

Through the window Hutch couldn’t see the tremble of Gillian’s hands, nor the silent tears as they trickled down her face.  Her back was to the window.  But he could see Starsky’s face.  The regret and compassion showing in his eyes as he comforted his partner’s girl.  What the hell are you doing Starsky?  Hutch knew that Starsky was always very gentle with an assault victim, but the green-eyed monster of jealousy made the blonde forget.  All Hutch knew was that Starsky and Gillian wanted to talk alone, that his hands were touching her, and that Starsky was at her apartment before he was last night.  What were you doing there last night Starsky? Why did you go there?  There was no call from dispatch.  I would’ve heard it.

After more than half an hour both occupants of the interrogation room stood up and stretched.  Hutch watched as Starsky pulled Gillian into an embrace.  He greeted the two with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.  Gillian excused herself to go to the restroom to straighten up.

As soon as Hutch saw her enter the women’s restroom, he pushed his partner back into the interrogation room with his forefinger pointed into Starsky’s chest.  Hutch’s mood was close to matching Starsky’s hair – dark and stormy.

Starsky took one look at the aggravated face and darkened eyes and asked his partner what was wrong.

Hutch shut the door behind them and backed Starsky into a chair.  “I want to know exactly what’s going on between you and Gillian.”  He asked still pointing his forefinger as he loomed down at his seated partner.

Confusion replaced concern on the curly haired man’s face.  “What….what’re you talking about?  Me and Gillian?”

“I saw you buddy.  For two people who supposedly only met several days ago, you two have a nice comfy relationship.  Wiping her eyes, hugging her.  And why were you over at her apartment last night in the first place Starsky?”

Understanding dawned on Starsky.  He looked down so Hutch didn’t see the sorrow in his eyes.  “Hutch, I really can’t tell you.  You need to talk to Gillian.  As far as me being over there, Huggy called with some information about her getting knocked off.”  He put his hand out to touch his best friend’s arm.  “Believe me Hutch, she loves you.  No matter what’s happened or what she tells you – she loves you.  If you want to talk with me afterwards, I’ll be there for you.”

That phrase ‘or what she tells you’ did nothing to relieve the blonde’s concern.  But before he could say anything else, the door opened as Gillian knocked on it.  “Guys?  Can I come in?”

Hutch rubbed his face and turned around to greet his lover.  “You okay?  You ready to go?”

“Uh, huh.” She replied as he grasped her arm and walked her out into the hallway.

Starsky followed the two of them, “David, you didn’t…..” Gillian didn’t finish the quiet sentence as the curls shook negatively. 

Hutch didn’t like being left out of any of this.  He gave his partner a hard look away from Gillian’s line of sight.  “Tell Dobey I’m taking the day off to be with Gillian.”

“Sure Pal.  I’ll clear it with him.”

As Hutch and Gillian moved away, Hutch’s arm around her waist, Starsky heard Hutch say to his lover that the two needed to talk.

Little was said between Gillian and Hutch on the way back to her apartment.  Gillian sat cuddled next to Hutch, while he put his arm around her shoulders to gather her closer.  The tension in the car was noticeable to him and he could not come up with any viable answers for the questions in his mind.

Once they arrived back at Gillian’s apartment, Hutch knew he had to confront Gillian – even Starsky told him to talk to her before going back to him.

“Gillian, we need to talk.”

She sighed.  “You’re right.  Let me get us something to drink first.  Sit down and get comfortable.”

It was too early for beer, but Gillian knew she needed fortification so she poured a glass of wine for both of them.

“Ken, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, so it may not come out right.”

Hutch interrupted her.  “Just tell me there’s nothing going on between you and Starsky.”

Gillian is startled.  “What?  You think that Starsky and I….I would never hurt you like that Ken.”

“Then why did you call him first yesterday?  Why wouldn’t you let me be there for you today?”

Gillian tried to explain about yesterday.  “I did try to call you first and I didn’t call Starsky.  There was no answer at your place.  I don’t know how Starsky came to be here.  To be honest, I don’t remember much of what anyone told me last night, so if he said anything I don’t remember.  You’d have to ask him why he was here.”

Hutch looked directly at her.  “I did.”

“And?”

“He told me to talk to you first.  Now if you didn’t call him, what did he mean by that?”

The long dark blonde hair fell forward as Gillian dipped her head down to look at wine glass she held.  “Because of who attacked me.”

“Who?  Starsky wouldn’t tell me that either.”

After a long pause during which Hutch didn’t push, Gillian looked up with glimmering eyes.  “I think I should start at the beginning.”  She took another sip of her wine.  “I misled you on my profession and I’m sorry.  Maybe I should’ve been straightforward from the beginning, but it’s not something you open up about and tell every person you meet.”

“Gillian, slow up.  Are you telling me that you’re not a writer?”

“Not exactly.  I do write a few articles freelance for a some women’s magazines.  But I’ve only been published a few times, and it’s not my main source of income.”

“Then what is?  What is it that you couldn’t tell me?”  Hutch lifted her chin up gently to face him.

Gillian took a deep breath and blurted out “Al Grossman was the man who tried to kill me yesterday.  I work for Al, or rather I did.  I quit.”

Hutch was taken aback.  “Grossman?  Al Grossman, as in ‘Venus Massage Parlor’ Al?  And his creepy mother Olga?”  He took a deep drink of his wine and got up to pace.

“I work for them Ken, both of them.”  She waited for the reality to hit him.

“But, but they’re…. flesh peddlers.  They run a massage parlor, which Starsky and I are sure is just a cover for a brothel.  And we have reason to believe they’re trying to take over the peep shows and toy stores down in porno row.”

“I can tell you all about their extortion attempts Ken.  I know all about them.”

Long, thick fingers ran through fine white blonde hair.  “Gillian, why?”

She waited for Hutch to expand on the question.

“Why didn’t you tell me?  Why, why are you involved with those people?”

Gillian looked up at her restless lover.  “It’s not so easy to look back and say why.  I was young, I had no money, my parents were poor.  Al was nice to me, got me a place off the streets, helped me dress nicer and learn to behave like a lady.”

A half choking, half laugh sound left Hutch’s lips.  “Well at least you didn’t learn from Olga.”

Gillian relaxed.  At least a little laughter is better than anger or betrayal.

“Seriously Gillian, why did you have to lie?  Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”

“Can you honestly tell me Hutch that no matter when I told you that I was a hooker, that it wouldn’t have mattered to you?”

Hutch looked at the floor.  “Honestly.  I don’t know.  Does it matter to me now?  Is that what you’re asking?”  She nods.  “Yes it does; I think.  I need time.  Time to process all this.  And Starsky knows all about this?”

“He saw me the other day at the massage parlor.  He confronted me yesterday afternoon.  Tried to bribe me to leave town.  He didn’t want you hurt.”

An invisible punch hit his gut.  Oh Starsk – why?  “I, I think I need to go.”

A harsh gripping feeling came over Gillian and she grabbed one of the throw pillows and hugged it against her stomach.  “Okay” She said in a weak voice.  “I do love you.  I’ve wanted to quit working for Al & Olga for some time, but it took meeting you to push me to do it.  I couldn’t deal with it anymore Hutch.  I hated what I did.  Yes I love the money- I won’t deny that.  But I love you more.  If you feel disgusted or hurt, I understand.  Really I do.  But I’m not going back there, no matter what you decide regarding us.”

“Right now I don’t know if there is a future for us.  I need to go somewhere else to think.”

After Gillian watched her tall blonde boyfriend leave, the glistening tears in her eyes began to gently roll down her ivory cheeks.  Only this time, there’s no one there to wipe them away.

It was just after 2:00 when Hutch left Gillian’s apartment.  He drove the LTD around for another hour, not wanting to go home yet.  He ended up near his apartment at the beach; eventually getting out of his car to walk down by the ocean.  Taking his shoes and socks off, Hutch wandered around at the edge of the shore curling his toes in the damp sand as a way to relieve the stress he felt coursing through his body.

Eventually he ended up at ‘The Pits’.  Huggy had already talked to Starsky, who was looking for his partner, so he wasn’t surprised to see the blonde come in alone and looking down.  The proprietor immediately sat a tall draft in front of the blonde, without Hutch having to ask.

“Thanks Hug.”

“No problem oh blonde one.  You look like you need it.  Problems in paradise?”

Hutch took a deep gulp of the draught and licked his lips thirstily.  “You might say that.”

Huggy leans on his elbows onto the bar.  “Anything to do with say, a certain blonde that goes by the handle of Gillian?”

“You know too?”

“Well, word on the street is that Creep Al Grossman has a new set of matching bracelets due to the moves he tried to put on Gillian the other night.”

Hutch took another drink and nodded.

Continuing, Huggy looks sorrowfully at his friend.  “And I, uh, heard that she has a job description similar to the ‘ladies of the night’, only nighttime ain’t when she works.”

“So then everyone knew but me huh?  How come no one thought to inform me?  Do have I the word ‘chump’ written all over my back?”

“Sorry my blonde buddy.  Starsky didn’t want me sayin’ nothin’ to ya ‘till he talked to Gillian first.”

“Who the hell does he think he is?  That’s the third time it’s been alluded to that my partner took it upon himself to protect me.  Does he think I can’t handle my personal life?  Is he my conscious?”  Hutch began to get angry and the blue eyes flashed like summer lightening during a daytime storm.

“I’m sure he didn’t tell you ‘cause he thought you couldn’t handle it.  He just wanted to..”

“Protect me.”  Interrupted Hutch.  “Like I’m some kinda kid or something.”

“He meant well Hutch.”

“Yeah, did he tell you he tried to bribe Gillian to leave town?  What does that say?  It says to me that if she took the money, he was never planning on telling me.  So I would’ve wondered for the rest of my life what I did wrong.”

“I’m sure he meant well.”

“Yeah, well he could’ve trusted me with the information.”

“Don’t you think that kinda jive should’a come directly from the source?  I mean how would’ve the lady in question felt if her man’s best bud tol’ him somethin’ that personal?”

Hutch looked into his half empty glass for several seconds before answering.  “I don’t know.  I guess there’s no easy answers.”

Huggy didn’t know what else to say, so he patted the cotton covered arm of his friend as he got up to check on the status of his kitchen before the dinner rush hit.

After brooding through another two beers, Hutch left enough money on the bar top to cover his tab and a tip (!).  Huggy didn’t see him leave being busy with the incoming dinner patrons.  He wasn’t worried however, as the detective hadn’t had enough to drink to impair his faculties.  He had a feeling however, that his establishment would soon be graced by the presence of the dark half of the duo.

Sure enough a dark, curly-headed whirlwind flew into the bar just before six looking for his quieter blonde partner.  “Hey Hug you seen Hutch?”

“Sure did mi amigo.  He was here for awhile, had a few brews, and he paid for ‘em.”

“Did he say where he might be going?  How’d he seem?  Upset?  Depressed?”  The questions came fast and furious from the worried countenance of the heart shaped mouth.

“Upset at first; mad at a certain someone who Captain America thought was trying to arrange his love life.  Or re-arrange it.”  The dark eyes behind the sunglasses looked pointedly at Starsky, who ignored the look.  “He, uh, had that little discourse with his lady love.”

“Can I borrow your phone?  I need to find Hutch.  Maybe he went back to Gillian’s.”

Gillian was still at her apartment.  It sounded to Starsky like she’d been crying.  She explained, briefly, her conversation with Hutch and that he told her he needed time to think.  Unfortunately, she had no idea where the blonde cop would’ve gone to think things through.

As he hung up the phone, places where Hutch might’ve gone filtered through Starsky’s head.  “Hey Huggy.  I’m going to do some running around to look for Hutch.  If he calls or shows up again, call me through dispatch and let me know.”

“Sure thing bro.”  Huggy grabbed a wet rag and began wiping down the bar in anticipation of the drinking crowd.  He waved the rag at his white, curly headed friend as he watched him leave.

Stopping at Venice Place Starsky found the key over the doorway, indicating that Hutch wasn’t home.  Letting himself in to check, he verified that Hutch wasn’t brooding in his apartment or the greenhouse.  Placing the key back over the doorway, Starsky then drove to the beach where Hutch usually hung out when he wanted to think or time to himself.  Searching the diminishing crowd for a bright blonde headed male, Starsky was unable to locate his partner there either.

Damn it Hutch, where are you?  He’d heard nothing from Captain Dobey, Huggy, Gillian, or even Sweet Alice – all of whom he asked to call him if Hutch had contacted them.  I guess I should go home.  Maybe he left a message on my machine.

The interior of his apartment was dark since Starsky didn’t anticipate being so late after work.

Before he could completely close the door, a voice rang through the darkened living room- sad and bitter.  “Why’d you try to pay off Gillian?”

Startled, the dark haired man made a half-turn to face his partner sitting in the dark on his couch.  “Hutch?  Do you know how much trouble I’ve gone through looking for you?”

Starsky entered further into his apartment and turned on the lamp that was sitting on the table next to the couch.  Taking a good look at his partner, Starsky saw a drawn, pale face; bleak, red hollowed eyes; and low shoulders.  “How long have you been here?”

“Couple of hours.”  Starsky then noted the six empty beer bottles sitting on the table by the lamp.

“Why didn’t you call me?  I’ve been worried about you buddy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Gillian?”  Countered Hutch.

Starsky sighed and tossed his keys onto the kitchen table as he walked to the frig to grab a beer.  “Did ya leave me any beer?”

Finding a couple left, Starsky grabbed a bottle for himself, ignoring Hutch’s request that he bring his buddy another.  Sitting down on the lounge chair opposite the couch, Starsky looks at his friend.  “Do you wanna talk?  If not, okay.  I’m here whenever you need to.”

Hutch got up unsteadily to get himself a beer, since his partner seemingly forgot about him.  Seeing Starsky’s look Hutch justified himself.  “I’ll pay for ‘em.”

“That’s not it.  Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

The blue eyes squinted back at him.  “Don’t you think I have a right to get blotto?”

“Whatever Hutch, but you’re not driving home.  You can spend the night here.”

Hutch stumbled over to the frig to grab the remaining beer.  “So, you gonna get more beer?  It’s not like I’m in any condition to be driving.”

“I have more.  There just not in the frig.  There’s a case under the counter.  I was saving it for a special occasion or somethin’.”

A snort issued forth from the blonde.  “And what do you call today?  It’s not everyday I find out the woman I love is a hooker – and not just any hooker.  A high-class hooker who works for the scumbag we’ve been trying to bust for murder and extortion.  Who knows if she’s involved and how deep she might be in?  I also find out my best bud knew about my girl’s job and that he tried to pay her off.  Never mentioning either item to me.”  Another snort.  “Sure, a real special day.”  Hutch took a dreg of the amber fluid and flopped back down on the couch.

Dark blue eyes looked with anguish over his depressed partner.  “Hutch, I don’t know what to say.  How to make you feel better.”

“Why did you try to pay off Gillian?”  Hutch repeated the question he had asked almost half an hour ago when his partner first came home.

Dark blue eyes dipped while a lengthy silence permeated the room.  Hutch was just about to ask again when Starsky began speaking.  “Hutch, I didn’t know Gillian.  After I saw her in the back at Grossman’s, I didn’t know how far her involvement with Grossman went.  I only knew I had to protect you.”

“Protect me!  I’m not seven Starsky.  I can take care of myself, even if that means having my heart broken again.”

“No, not protect you that way.  Well, maybe a little.  I was more concerned if she was involved with Grossman’s illegal activities and you got your heart from involved with her.  Eventually they’d’ve been caught and you could’ve gone down too.  I’d rather let a possible offender go than to see you go down for something you didn’t know anything about.”  Starsky paused.  “Besides, it would’ve been so much worse for you if you’d’ve found out that way.”

“Starsky, you almost got Gillian killed!”  Hutch nearly shouted.

“If you hadn’t forced her hand before she had a chance to talk to me, then maybe she wouldn’t have gone to Grossman’s mother and threatened her.  Do you ever think about your irrational steps before acting upon them?!”

Starsky was stunned that Hutch was blaming him for Gillian’s attack.  “You…you think this is my fault?”

Hutch sighed and stood up.  “No, I’m not blaming anyone.  Gillian could’ve, should’ve, come to me first.  But that’s water under the bridge; it’s over and done with.  What I’m upset about is that you felt you needed to pay her off.  I can understand why you wanted to talk to her first, get her to tell me on her own.”  He turned toward his dark-haired friend.  “But there was no reason to pay her off.  Do you know how that makes me feel?  And what about Gillian?  Do you know how insulting that is to her?”

“Come on Hutch.  She was a prostitute.  I’m sure she’s used to being propositioned.  It didn’t seem to bother her too much when I presented it to her.”

A large hand swept through the blonde hair, tussling it even more as Hutch exhaled loudly.  “Forget it Starsky.  Just…it’s done.  You’re never going to understand where I’m coming from.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes drinking their beers.  The only light in the apartment came from the lamp on the side table that Starsky had turned on when he arrived home.  Sadness permeated around the shadows in the other rooms from that single light source.

After awhile Starsky grew uncomfortable with the silence.  “Ahem.  What’re you going to do now?”

Confused and inebriated blue eyes looked up at him.

“About Gillian.”  The curly headed man clarified.

Hutch closed his eyes against the pain in his head and his heart.  “I don’t know.  I can’t…I can’t think about that right now.”  He rested his head back against the top of the sofa.

“You need to deal with it Hutch.  Maybe not tonight, but soon.  You can’t leave yourself and Gillian hanging.”

“I know.  I just don’t know what to do, and I don’t want to make any decisions right now.  He held up the beer bottle in his hand.  “Especially when I’m not thinking straight.  I don’t feel like talking about it anymore tonight.”

Starsky knew better than to force an issue with his partner when he got into a ‘mood’.  “Well I don’t want to sit here all night and do nothing but watch your face, as lovely as it may be.  So I’m gonna turn on the tube and find a movie or something.  Okay?”

After a late night, or rather an early morning, of continuous B movies the detectives finally fell into an intoxicated sleep.  Though Hutch was further along the way than Starsky.  Both ended up crashing in the living room; Hutch on the sofa and Starsky in the lounge chair.  The lamplight remained on all night, and once the new day dawned, it blended with the sunlight that made its way through the blinds on the front window.  Both men woke up at the same time, the light strong on their closed eyelids, forcing them to consciousness.  The light also made a heavy impact on Hutch’s pounding head.

Starsky watched as his partner opened his eyes and winced against the light.  “How’re you feeling this morning?”

“Arrghh.  Man.  My head, my back, my neck.”  Groaned Hutch, unable to complete the sentence.

“Listen, why don’t you take a shower and down some aspirin.  That should get some of the stiffness out of your muscles.  I’ll make up some coffee and breakfast.”

Knowing that Starsky was right didn’t make it any easier for Hutch to get off the couch.  After several attempts to raise his long body up, Hutch sank back down with a sigh.  “Can’t seem to get up.  I think I’ll just sit here for awhile.”  He didn’t even attempt to cover his inability to get up with a little lie.

A dark haired arm reached down.  “Come on ya big lug.  I’ll help you.”  Hutch grabbed onto Starsky’s hand and used it to anchor himself.  Letting the dizziness subside, he slowly worked his way standing and shuffled into the bathroom.  “Do I have any clothes left here?”

Starsky rummaged through Hutch’s drawer in his bedroom.  He pulled out a clean shirt and fresh boxers and socks.  One drawer was set aside at each detective’s apartment to house extra clothing for the other in the event of mornings such as this.  Or when they were in a hurry to get somewhere else (say, a double date), and time only permitted one stop.

Once Starsky heard the water running in the shower, he began to make a light breakfast for the two of them.  Knowing that Hutch’s stomach wouldn’t handle much, and suspecting his wouldn’t either, Starsky settled on toast and applesauce.  Just as he popped two pieces of white bread in the toaster for himself, the phone rang.

A soft, tremulous voice drifted out of the receiver.  “Dave?  It’s Gillian.”

Starsky kept his voice down, even though Hutch was still in the shower and unlikely to hear the conversation.  “Gillian?  You okay?”

She ignored the question and countered with one of her own.  “Is Ken there?  I tried him at home, but there was no answer.  And he’s not at the precinct.”

“Yeah Hutch’s here.  He spent the night.  He’s in the shower right now.”

“Did he say anything to you?  I know, I know.  It should probably come directly from him.”  She paused.  “But Dave, I haven’t slept all night.  I’ve been so upset at what I’ve done and how I handled it.  How I hurt him to.  I want to know if he’ll at least talk to me.”

“Hutch wasn’t ready to deal with your, uh, situation last night Gillian.  He didn’t want to talk about it.  He needs time to think it over and last night just wasn’t the right time.  I promise you, I’m not lying or covering anything up.  But I’ll try to get him to call you.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done Dave.  You’re a good friend.  Hutch is lucky to have you.”

“Take care of yourself Gillian.  Hopefully I’ll talk to you soon.”

Once Starsky hung up the phone, he went back to preparing breakfast.  The shower had stopped, but Hutch was still in the bathroom – probably shaving.  I can’t not tell him that Gillian called looking for him.  What’s his mood gonna be like?  Is he ready to talk, if not to me, then to her?

Coming out of the bathroom, Hutch still looked worn and tired.  His eyes were red-rimmed and had dark circles under them.  His face was pale and drawn, which made his eyes more noticeable.  A white towel was draped around his nude shoulders, and accented their marked slump.

The blonde slunk down at Starsky’s kitchen table while his other half placed a steaming cup of black coffee and two slices of buttered wheat toast in front of him with a side of applesauce.

“Thanks.”  Hutch said quietly.

“Feeling any better?  The shower help?”  Inquired Starsky.

“Yeah.  The shower helped a little; hopefully the aspirin will kick in soon.”

Starsky looked into his heavily sweetened coffee and decided there was not time like the present to dive into Hutch’s ‘problem’.  “Ya know Hutch, it’s not like you didn’t have a reason to go on a bender.  You don’t drink like that often; but Hutch….the reason is still there.  You gonna deal with it today?  Or am I gonna have to put up with a brooding, hung-over partner?  Worried if he can back me up.”

Pale blue eyes pierced the man sitting across the table.  “Gee thanks for your support.”  Hutch remarked sarcastically.

“I know how you are Blintz.  You’ll roll this over in your head 20 different ways until you get a major migraine.  Then you’ll brood about it for days.  Hutch, I’m just concerned about you….and Gillian.”

“Since when did you become so concerned about Gillian?  You thought so much of her that you tried to pay her off.”

Starsky answer straight forward.  “Since she became important to you and proved her worthiness to you by not taking the money.”

Hutch didn’t respond, just looked down into his nearly empty coffee mug.

Starsky took another step.  “She called here this morning looking for you.  She’s concerned.”

Hutch got up to re-fill his coffee; his back to Starsky.  He didn’t say anything as Starsky watched him.  After pouring the longest cup of coffee, he turned around and leaned against the counter.  “What did she say?”

“Just that she’d tried calling your apartment and when there was no answer she figured you slept here.  She’s feeling mighty upset about the way she handled things with you.  She also wanted to know if you’d said anything about your relationship.”

Hutch looked at him cautiously even though he knew Starsky wouldn’t divulge anything.

“I told her she needed to talk to you, but that you needed time to think this out.”

Hutch sat back down at the table.  “I don’t know what to do Starsk.  I love her, but she lied to me.  Do I trust her?  I don’t know.  Can I trust her again?  Am I willing to let her earn that trust back?”

Starsky let Hutch continue to talk without interruption.  He didn’t want to disrupt the blonde’s train of thought.

“I thought I wanted a future with Gillian.  She’s the perfect woman for me.”

“Hutch do you realize what you just said?  You said she’s the perfect woman for you.  So for starters let’s break it down into pros & cons.”  Starsky goes to his junk drawer and pulls out paper and pencil.

“Why do you love Gillian?”

“It’s not that easy Starsk.”

“Work with me Hutch.  What is it about Gillian that makes you turn all mushy?”

Hutch rolled his eyes at Starsky’s words and sighed.  He’d learned from experience that once the dark partner got started on something, it’s best to just give in ‘cause he’d wear you down.  “She’s smart, she’s grounded; she’s beautiful, compassionate.  She understands me and has no problem with the job.  She seems to like you, which is no mean feat.”

Starsky wrote all this down as fast as he could; the tip of his tongue sticking out between the side of his pursed lips.  “She’s blonde.”  He added.

“Huh?  What does that have to do with anything?”

“You prefer blondes.  Nothing wrong with that.”  His partner stated simply.

“Come on Starsky – that’s a bunch of bull.”

“No it ain’t Blintz.  Jeannie, Abby, Sweet Alice, whatshername you were seeing before Jeannie.”

The detective in question, himself a blonde, snorted.  “If you’re such an expert on Ken Hutchinson, then tell me what to do about Gillian.”

“Face it buddy.  I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”  Starsky grinned his lopsided grin across the table, and then turned back to the paper in front of him.

“Okay, back to the list.  Anything else about Gillian that puts butterflies in your stomach?”

“Butterflies in my stomach?  Starsky you’ve been hanging around Huggy too much lately.”

“Focus Hutch – tell me about Gillian.”

Hutch closed his eyes for a moment.  “I just like being with her.  She makes me happy.”

Dark brown curls shook as their owner nodded his head.  “Good – that’s important.  Is there anything about her you don’t like or wish you could change?”

Hutch lowered his eyes to his plate of cold toast.  “The fact that she lied to me.  That’s all – but it’s important to me.”

Starsky looked at his partner with compassion.  “So now you need to figure out if all the good things outweigh the one mistake she made.”

“Not a mistake Starsky.  She purposely didn’t tell me the truth about her career or association with Grossman.”

“And when would’ve been a good time, huh Hutch?  First date?  In bed?  Over breakfast after making love the first time?”

Hutch placed his head down in his large hands.  “I don’t know Starsk.  I guess there’s never a good time to hear your girlfriend’s a hooker.”

“Buddy we’ve got today off.  Why don’t you eat your applesauce so you get something in your stomach and lay down on my bed for a while?  I’ve got some errands to run and I’ll wake you when I get back.  You need the rest.  Maybe you’ll feel like calling Gillian after your head clears up.”

Hutch nodded lightly, too much motion made his head pound like a jackhammer.  “Good idea.”

Two hours later Hutch languidly stretched his tall, lean body as he woke up from his light nap at Starsky’s.  His partner apparently hadn’t returned from his errands yet, so Hutch thought it would be a good time to make that phone call to Gillian.  The fact that he could think about calling her without a stabbing pain in his chest, made him believe that he could get through this.  Once the decision was made, he needed to see his girlfriend.

With a deep breath before he could change his mind (and before Starsky got home), Hutch picked up the phone by the bed and placed the call.

“Hello?”  Gillian sounded like a lost little girl.  She had been huddled on her couch most of the previous night and morning with a book, unable to concentrate on it as she kept looking at the phone, hoping for a call from Hutch.

“Gillian?”  Hutch’s voice was a mere whisper, as if he was afraid to talk with her.

“Ken?”  Gillian whispered back, glad that he called, yet nervous about the same call.

“Gillian, I’m so sorry about yesterday.”

“Sorry for what?  I’m the one’s who’s sorry Ken.  For putting you through everything.”

“But I left you alone.  After what you went through with Grossman.”

“Please Ken, don’t feel guilty about it.  I understood.  You needed time away – to think about things.”

There was a brief pause as neither spoke; just listening to the other breathe.

“Did you?  Think about things; us?

“Can I see you tonight Gillian?  We need to talk.”

A sigh of relief came through the other end of the phone.  At least he’s willing to talk, no matter the outcome.  “Yes.  Where?”

“My place, say about 7:00.  Right now, I don’t think I could handle going over there.”

“Fine.  I’ll, uh, take a cab.  No need to pick me up.”

“I’ll make us dinner, and we can relax and, and ….. talk about things.”

“Okay.”  Just as he was about to hang up Gillian spoke again.  “And Ken, I….”can’t say ‘I love you’ that will make it sound pretentious.  “I’ll see you later.”

Making a fresh pot of coffee, Hutch wrote a note out for Starsky and left it by the coffeemaker.

Then he left to stop at the grocery store to prepare for tonight’s encounter with Gillian.

When Starsky arrived home shortly after Hutch left, he found an empty apartment.  “Hutch?  Hey Hutch, you awake?”  He asked the quiet apartment.  The aroma of warm coffee was noticeable the moment the door was opened, so the dark haired detective assumed that his partner was awake and up.  But no sign of the blonde could he find.  Going into the kitchen to pour a cup of the bitter brew, he saw the note propped against the side of the coffeemaker.

Starsk,

Thank you for everything last night and this morning.  The talk and extra sleep helped me to sort out a few things.  I’m having dinner with Gillian tonight at my place and we’re going to talk.

And in case I forgot to say it, Thank You for saving her life the other day.

Your buddy, Hutch

Starsky smiled as he read the short note.  I knew you could do it buddy.  Good Luck.

By 6:50 that evening Hutch had dinner set up at the kitchen table.  He thought eating first might make the evening more comfortable.  A seafood salad, sliced fruit, and ice tea were placed on two settings at the small kitchen table.  Sorbet was set in the freezer for desert if Gillian felt up for it later.

He decided candles and soft music weren’t appropriate, as this evening wasn’t going to be romantically oriented.  Besides, the two of them needed to focus on their relationship and a romantic setting could distract them.

Shortly after 7 p.m. there was a tentative knock on the door.  Hutch opened it to find Gillian dressed simply in a dark blue pair of dress slacks with a long sleeved light yellow satin blouse.  A thin belt and an ecru scalloped sweater completed the ensemble.  She wore little make up – just a dusting of blush and a light coating of lipstick.

Hutch opened the door fully and stepped aside to invite her in.  He looked over Gillian with approval.  She had always dressed conservatively and with class.

“Dinner’s on the table.  I know you like sea food, so I hope a crab salad is okay.”

Hutch pulled a chair out for her and the two sat down in quiet.  An edginess filled the atmosphere; neither one knowing where to begin or even whom should begin.  Eventually Hutch asked Gillian how she had made out the previous evening.  If she spent time with friends, if she slept.

“This is the first time I’ve been out of my apartment since yesterday morning.  I was too frightened to leave by myself.”  The thick blonde curls fell forward as Gillian’s face dipped.  “I know I need to learn to do by myself, but this was the first time I was alone since….and I couldn’t handle it.”

Strong, large hands reached across the table to enfold Gillian’s thin one.  “I’m sorry.”  He didn’t know what else to say.  He couldn’t say ‘I should’ve been there’ because he knew he couldn’t be.  “I should’ve gotten someone to stay with you, or made sure you had a friend or neighbor that could stay.”

“Please Ken don’t.  Don’t feel guilty about something you have no control over.  I need to learn to deal with this fear.  I can’t always be protected or be with someone.  It was probably a good step for me to be alone so soon after the attack.  Now I’ve faced it and can only go forward.”

Hutch grinned at her for the first time in days.  “You’re a very brave lady.  It’s no wonder I…” he trailed off, not wanting to put himself out there just yet.  Gillian didn’t give any indication that she caught the slip-up, even though the blonde detective’s face was bright pink.  “Um, well, anyhow, you’re right.  You need to confront your fears.  Maybe it would help to talk to a professional?  The department always has a list of psychiatrists on file for victims to speak with if they need a referral.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Hutch smiled gently at her.  “Just let me or Starsky know.”

They finished their meal in relative quiet.  Discussing mundane things like the weather and the local news.  After Gillian refused the sorbet, at least immediately after dinner, Hutch cleared the table and poured the two of them some coffee.  Wine might be more appropriate, but Hutch wanted both to have a clear head.  He did not want alcohol influencing his decision or confusing Gillian into thinking he was planning on something more for their evening.

The two moved over to the living area with their coffee.  Gillian sat on the sofa, while Hutch sat in the chair across from her.  He set his cup down on the table that held the small television set and leaned forward with his elbows on his legs.  He took a deep breath and dove right in.  “Gillian, I want us to get past this.  There’s so much more to you than your job.  Yes, it hurts.  But I think the fact that you couldn’t tell me, and it took a bribe from Starsky for you to consider it – that hurts more.”

Gillian gulped and began slowly.  “I rarely dated before I met you.  I mean, I had clients who took me out when they needed an escort for some cultural event, or who took me on a business trip with them.  But I never really dated anyone ‘normal’ before.  I didn’t know how to handle it.  The more we went out, the more deeply I felt for you.  I kept telling myself that I could keep you separate from my work.”  She paused.  “Remember the night we went bowling?  Where I finally met Starsky?”  Hutch nods.  “That night I was trailed by one of Al’s bodyguards.  I saw him at the bowling alley.  He and Al and Olga were waiting for me when you dropped me off.  That’s why I didn’t want you coming in that night.  It all came to a head for me then.  I knew something had to give and I wanted out of the business.  I was still trying to figure it all out when Starsky came over several days later and confronted me.”  Gillian took a sip of her coffee, hoping that Hutch didn’t notice how practiced her speech was.  She’d been going over it in her mind since the previous day.

Hutch listened to everything Gillian had to say.  She seemed nervous to him, so her explanation didn’t sound as earnest, but he understood.  “How” he gently asked, “how did you get involved with Olga and Al?”

After taking another swallow of the coffee, Gillian tried to explain her early life.  “I grew up in Cleveland.  My father emigrated from England.  He worked the salt mines under Lake Erie, which is an unhealthy job due to the pressurization.  My mother never finished school, so after Dad had to quit working, there wasn’t much money coming into the house.  By then I was 17, so I started working as a waitress.  One day I waited on Al.  He was up and coming in the Cleveland Mafia, working the prostitution rings.  He offered me a modeling job.  Not your traditional skin magazine.  I would do shoots for private photos that clients requested.”

“How does Olga fit into this picture?”  Starsky would want to know that one too.

“She had an affair with one of Danny Greene’s – he the mob boss – bodyguards who was killed when Shondor Birns - another mob boss – was trying to hit Danny.  As repayment for his life, Danny brought Al into the business and made sure Olga was taken care of.  Her entire life has revolved around what she refers to as ‘her boy’.  I’ll give Olga this much, she wouldn’t hear of using underage prostitutes.  She waited until we were 18, there were several of us, and then offered us jobs.”

“And you took it with no qualms.”  Hutch said flatly.

“It gave me a way to get out on my own so my parents didn’t have to feed or clothe me.  I had a younger brother still at home.  I was so used to being downtrodden by schoolmates and my parent’s depressing attitude that I had no self-assurance or self-reliance.  I thought that was all I could be.  It wasn’t that hard a step to go from posing to performing.”

“After a few years, Danny wanted to expand into the porno business.  So he sent some men around the States to do some investigating.  I think that was when I started to realize that I wanted out.  I really wanted no part of that.  Unfortunately, it’s not easy to get away.”  She trailed off.

“How did all of you end up here?”

“Danny and his partners thought the best place to get their foot in the door was L.A., you know, movies and all.  Once they staked everything out, they sent Al, me, Diane, Suzette, and a few others – including Al’s two new bodyguards.  Of course anywhere that Al went, Olga had to go.  I think Danny also wanted to be rid of them from underfoot.  Al’s not the brightest person, and he doesn’t impress others too much.  Olga is smart and sharp as a whip, but women in mafia business aren’t highly thought of.  So Danny told Al if he could corner the massage and toy business, he’d let him broaden his horizons and eventually handle the porno share of his empire.”  She finished her coffee and looked up at bright blue eyes.  Neither condemning nor understanding, they held only kindness and support.  They were the most expressive eyes she had ever seen.  Gillian cleared her throat.  “I guess we’ve been out here, maybe six months or so.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?”

Gillian stood up and rubbed the palms of her hands against her slacks.  She looked around the apartment – anywhere but at the blonde man sitting calmly in front of her.  “It’s not that easy, you know?  It’s all I’ve ever known.  And believe me or not, I am a better person than I used to be.  I learned a lot.  Not just about current events and such.  I learned how to dress properly, how to communicate and converse, how to be a friend.  Because believe me Ken, in this business you have very few friends.  So whenever I could find a friend, I learned what to do to keep them.  And if that included keeping my mouth shut about my job, then that’s what I did.

Also, it’s not easy being a woman on your own with little education and no self-confidence.  The few short-stories I’ve sold to magazines wouldn’t support an elderly woman living o social security.”

“I’m sorry I made it harder on you.” Said her detective boyfriend.

Gillian sat back down on the sofa.  “Ken, you have nothing to be sorry about.  You’ve actually been nicer to me than I deserve after the way I lied you.”  She looked up at him, eyes watering enough to make the green shimmer like the surface of a farm pond.  “Do you think you can get past this?”

Hutch stood up and turned facing the kitchen.  He rubbed his long fingers through the fine bangs on his forehead.  “I don’t know.  But I’m willing to try.  Are you?”  He walked over to the sofa and pulled her up to him.

She looked into his handsome face and saw his sincerity and whispered, “Yes.”

He gathered her into his arms and gently kissed her cheek.  The two of them stood there for several minutes just holding onto each other.

Gillian agreed with Hutch’s suggestion that they take it slow.  They had fallen so hard, so fast that they never really had time to enjoy exploring the idea of a new love.  They had gone on few real ‘dates’, other than an occasional dinner and the bowling excursion with Dave and Nancy.  Now was the time to discover each other through trips to the beach, the zoo, the museums and other places.

A month later Gillian and Hutch were again bowling with Dave and Nancy.  Gillian had found a job working the sales floor of Sears at the Bay City Mall.  She had moved into a smaller, less expensive apartment closer to town and was still writing short stories.  Hutch spent most of his free time with her.  Their relationship appeared to be more relaxed, but just as passionate – with one exception.  Hutch never seemed to want to make love.  The two would kiss for what seemed like hours, but he seemed reluctant to take the next step.  Gillian wanted to give him time, but felt that she needed to broach the subject with him, to find out what he was feeling.

Once they had finished their double date, each couple went their separate way.  Gillian invited Hutch back to her apartment for some coffee.

After starting the coffee and turning the radio on to an Adult Contemporary station, Gillian sat down next to Hutch on the couch.  He placed his arm around the back of the couch and gathered her close.  For a few moments, the two sat listening to the soft music and quiet even breathing of each other.

Eventually Gillian brought up her concerns.  “Ken we need to talk.”

“Hmmm.”  His eyes were closed and the tension filled lines were erased from his face.  She hated to disturb his relaxed mood.  It wasn’t often that he looked that way with the job he had.

She nestled into his arm more.  “I want to make love to you tonight.”

Gillian felt a subtle tightening of Hutch’s torso, but it was momentarily released as he relaxed again.  She looked up and saw his eyes were still closed, but his face pensive.  “Why?  I thought we were doing fine as we were.”

“Hutch,” She began, calling him by his nickname, which she rarely did.  “I know you find me attractive enough.  We still have passion between us, it’s obvious in the way we kiss and touch each other, the way we hold each other.  But it seems like you’re reluctant to go any further.  If you’re doing it for my benefit, I appreciate it, but I can handle it.  I’m okay with it.  We’ve made love before.  It’s not like it’s a new step for us.  Unless…”

He lifted his head up, opened his eyes, and looked down at her upturned face.  “Unless what?”

Dropping her head, Gillian finished softly.  “Unless it bothers you that there’ve been other men.”

Slowly Hutch lifted her chin to face him.  “Hey.  I’m not that shallow.  I dated a woman last year who had a similar history.  She was even ‘kept’ by her mob-boss boyfriend.  And I’m fairly sure my ex-wife was screwing around during the last few months of our marriage, even though we were still having sex.  So no, that doesn’t bother me as much as you think.”

“Then why?”

He shrugs his shoulders.  “I don’t know.  I guess I just want to be sure, about us I mean.”

“And you aren’t.”  Gillian said flatly, sitting up to remove herself from Hutch’s embrace.

“No!  That’s not it.  I’m just….I guess deep down I’m still hurting, maybe a bit.  Not ready to share that kind of intimacy.”

Gillian pulled herself away from Hutch.  “That’s a lie and you know it!  You can’t tell me you’ve never made love with some woman you just picked up somewhere?  Knowing nothing about her, not even caring about her.”

“But that’s not love Gillian, that’s just sex.  Making love entails sharing a special intimacy.”

“That’s right.  A sharing of yourself with another.  And you can’t share yourself with me.”

Hutch leaned his head back, eyes staring at the gray ceiling above him.  “I know it sounds strange, coming from me, but I’m enjoying our time together now.  I like just being with you.  Not worrying about when to make a move or what the right move might be.”

Gillian frowned.  “You make me sound like a pal.”

He lifted his head and looked down at the troubled green eyes.  Lifting her chin he drew his head downward.  “No, you’re nothing like a ‘pal’.”  He whispered throatily before claiming her lips.

After the long desperate kiss, Hutch looked down at Gillian to see the green of her eyes had darkened with passion.  He pulled her into his chest.  “Just give me time, okay?”

“Ken, I love you.  You can have everything that’s in my power to give you, including time.”

The rest of their evening was spent laying on the couch enjoying the feel of each other.  Not enough to get excited, just a gentle comforting between two people who loved each other.

The next month the love life of the two blondes improved.  Hutch felt more comfortable in giving more of himself to Gillian.  Starsky noticed that the two seemed to glow all the time and his partner was rarely grumpy or down.  He reveled in his job; he didn’t freeze on the job again.  The dark haired man wondered if Hutch’s life was about to take a extreme turn.  While he knew Hutch would think twice before taking the plunge again after his disastrous first marriage, he also knew that Hutch enjoyed what being married entailed and it appeared he might’ve found his soul-mate in Gillian.

The trial of Al and Olga Grossman was moving slowly.  Capt. Dobey and the D.A. decided Hutch was much too close to the case, so they assigned the gathering of evidence to Detectives Simmons and Babcock, the second best team in the precinct, while keeping Starsky on the witness list as the arresting officer and as a material witness for motive.

One evening, Hutch and Gillian had tickets to attend a private sector performance of ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ at the Academy Theatre.  Both Starsky and Hutch had received them through the mayor’s office as a part of a commendation for their quick solving of a murder of a well-known theatre producer who had been killed by a rival for a script.  The producer of the production was a friend of the mayor’s and had been an initial suspect.  Starsky was no longer seeing Nancy, so he took Sally, one of the young officers from their precinct. 

Both Starsky and Hutch were dressed in rented traditional black tuxedos, though Starsky’s appeared to be mussed, as he was uncomfortable in the ‘monkey suit’.  Sally was dressed in a knee length maroon dress with sheer long sleeves and a v-neck cut.  Gillian was resplendent in a champagne colored off the shoulder straight tea length dress.  It was covered in sequins which caught the bright light in the lobby and twinkled different colors.

After a rousing performance, which even the non-cultured Starsky enjoyed, all the attendees were invited for refreshments in the courtesy room where they could mingle and network.  The room was brightly lit with four crystal chandeliers and heavy red velvet drapes that ran the length of the walls.  The carpet was plush grey and several oak benches lined the walls.  A long table had been set up at the far end of the room with various food and non-alcoholic drinks.  For those who thirsted for something with a little more bite, a free bar was set in the corner.  Gillian and Hutch did not want to mingle after the show, but Starsky insisted.  He was complaining that he was light-headed since he hadn’t eaten anything in several hours.

At first sticking together, eventually the foursome began to mingle with other patrons.  Several people that Starsky and Hutch knew had also attended the event:  Council people, other politicians, and small business owners that had made good.  Watching Gillian out of the corner of his eye while still paying sufficient attention to the pompous politician in front of him, Hutch couldn’t help but be proud of how well she fit in with this group.  Her class and natural grace brought quiet attention to the beautiful blonde in the shimmering dress.  Unfortunately, the blonde detective wasn’t the only one watching and admiring her.

“Gillian?”  Whispered a tall dark haired man with a stiff dark brown mustache and deep brown eyes.  Gillian froze at the sight of a former ‘client’ Rep. Jonathan Davis, state congressman.  Glancing at Hutch through the corner of her eyes, Gillian recovered quickly and allowed Jonathan to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I haven’t seen you since the ‘Venus’ was closed up.  I must say wherever you’ve landed yourself, is working well for you.  You look absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you Rep. Davis.”

The congressman winked at her and put his hand around her upper arm, not threatening, but more possessive.  “Where are you at now my dear?  I’d love to come by and see you.”  He started to lead her off to a quiet corner.  Unwilling to cause a scene, Gillian reluctantly let herself be led away, glancing again toward Hutch, who had just seen the move the congressman was putting on his girlfriend.

Disengaging himself from the pompous politician who had latched onto the tall blonde detective’s debating techniques, Hutch strode swiftly over to the corner to confront the congressman.

Not wanting to cause the public official any embarrassment, Hutch addressed Gillian first.  He put a large hand on her shoulder as they met, startling Gillian further.  She looked over her shoulder and visibly relaxed when she saw Hutch behind her.  “Gillian.  It’s almost time to go.  Why don’t you gather your coat and I’ll get Starsky and Sally.”  Hutch turned to the congressman and politely held out his hand.  “Rep. Davis, I don’t believe we’ve met. My name’s Ken Hutchinson.  I’ve followed some of your issues.  While I don’t agree with all of them, I want to commend you for trying to make a difference to your constituents.”

Rep. Davis took Hutch’s hand as a courtesy as he had no idea who the large blonde possessively holding his former paramour’s shoulder was.  “I see you know Gillian also.  You have good taste in women sir.  I apologize if I stepped on any toes by talking business with Gillian.  I didn’t realize she had attended the show with anyone.”  Removing his right hand from Hutch’s and his left hand from Gillian’s arm he gently kissed the back of her hand.  “Perhaps we can get together another evening my dear.  You must contact my office and give me your new location.”

“Gillian is no longer available.”  Hutch said tersely.

An understanding look came into the dark brown eyes.  “Ahhh.  She found herself a benefactor.  Congratulations to both of you.”

Hutch began to get angry, but only in his voice and the tenseness of his upper body.  “I think you misunderstand.  Let me clarify.  Gillian is no longer in the business.  She is my girlfriend.”

For a moment the politician was speechless (!).  “Uh, oh, well in that case I apologize again.  I thought she was, well being escorted by someone this evening.”  He stammered and had the grace to lower his eyes.  But then they came up with a gleam….

“We both know how it is then.  Don’t we?”

Hutch stood stunned by the crassness of Rep. Davis words.

“Please Jonathan.  Don’t do this.  That part of my life is over.  I’m trying to get past it.”  Pleaded Gillian quietly.

“Ah, well, at least I have my videos.”  He said insinuatingly.  “Gillian’s a lovely thing on film, so natural.  The camera loves her.  She should’ve been an actress.”

Hutch stood frozen at the implications in the words of the state congressman.  Gillian grasped his upper left arm to lead him away from the politician.  “Come on Ken, we need to find Dave and Sally.”

From the middle of the room, Sally noticed Hutch’s pale, frozen demeanor and Gillian’s anxious face as they talked to a tall dark man near one of the corner’s of the room.  “Starsky?  I think Gillian and Hutch need us.”  Starsky realizing something was wrong, immediately broke off his conversation with a lovely actress from the show and bounded over to his partner, leaving Sally to follow in his wake.

“Hey Hutch.” Starsky called as he approached his startled partner.  “What’s up?”

Gillian looked pleadingly at Starsky’s concerned blue eyes.  “David, I think it’s time to go.  Can you get the car and meet us out front?”  She gently tugged on Hutch’s arm, where her hand was grasped.  “Come on Ken.  Dave is going to meet us out front.  Let’s not keep him waiting.”  Sally walked on the other side of Hutch in the event he stumbled or passed out.

Letting himself be led away quietly, Hutch rouses from his stunned state once the three are in the lobby.  Forgetting for a moment that Sally is with them, Hutch turns to Gillian.  “Videos?  What the hell was Jonathan Davis talking about?”  He kept his voice lowered, but the tightness of his words verged on the edge of angry.

“Ken, please, let’s not talk about it here.  I promise you we’ll talk back at my place.”

Waiting for Starsky to pull up in the rented Oldsmobile was spent in pregnant silence.  Sally could sense the tension coming from Hutch, but she couldn’t tell what happened.  She opened her mouth a few times to say a few platitudes, but realizing they would probably sound hollow, she never spoke the words.  The five-minute wait seemed like 20 minutes to the short female police officer.

Once in the car, the silence between the two blondes continued.  Starsky and Hutch sat in the front, the women in the back.  Starsky, at first oblivious to the strain began a litany of praises for the musical they just saw.  Since his father was Catholic, he was raised with awareness of both religions and the idea of a musical celebrating the life of Jesus Christ didn’t bother him.  Eventually, however, he realized the only one participating in the conversation was Sally, and that was only with brief answers and little commentary.

“Starsk enough with the social interpretation please.”  Hutch complained after his partner finally quieted down.  Eventually Gillian and Sally struck up a quiet conversation in the backseat as the foursome made their way to Gillian’s apartment.

After pulling the Olds over to the curb in front of Gillian’s apartment, she got out of the backseat and looked at Hutch while still holding the door open.  “Are you coming up tonight?”

He tilted his head back toward her and nodded.  “Give me a minute okay?  I’ll be right there.”  Nodding Gillian closed the door and rummaged through her handbag for her apartment key while walking up the walkway.  This apartment complex wasn’t secured like her previous one.

Starsky leaned over to Hutch and whispered  “What’s goin’ on?  Everything okay between you two?”

Hutch sighed.  “I don’t know.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.  Don’t worry about picking me up.  My car’s here, if I decide to spend the night.”  And he followed Gillian’s lead up the walkway to her apartment.

The door was partially opened and Hutch went in and closed it behind him, the loud click of the bolt latching told Gillian that her boyfriend was there.  She already had a beer for him opened and sitting on the small side table in the living area.

Taking off his suit coat and loosening his bowtie, Hutch took the offered bottle and tossed down half the bottle in one swig.  Exhaling loudly, he asked Gillian what Rep. Jonathan Davis meant by her ‘being a natural on film’.

Gillian had exchanged her light coat for a cardigan.  She pulled it closer across her body.  Refusing to look at the blonde sitting across from her she tried to explain.  “Occasionally a client wanted a special video for their private collection.  Since Al hadn’t gotten very involved in the hard-core video area and didn’t know how to go about hiring professionals, he used some of us.”

Hutch closed his eyes at her admission.  “Another lie.”  He whispered.

Gillian got down before him and put her hand on his knee.  “I didn’t say anything about this, because it’s not something I’m proud of.  My father needed money for a lung operation.  His union insurance didn’t pay for all of it and they have no savings.  So I agreed to do them.  But they’re for private owners only.  No one can go out and buy them.”

Twisting the beer bottle in his hands, Hutch raised his eyes to her, but not his head.  “Gillian, that’s not what’s bothering…..” he paused as the thought about it.  “Okay, that would be a lie.  It does bother me.  But I thought we weren’t going to keep any more lies between us?  That bothers me too.”  He sat back and looked at her for a moment before finishing his beer.  Needing distance Hutch got up from the couch and went into the kitchenette to toss his bottle out.  With his back to her he asked, “How many?”

Not understanding the question, she asked him back “How many what?”

“How many videos?”

“I don’t remember.  Seven maybe.  Less than 10.  But they’re all in private collections with the exception of the master that Al kept.”  She wanted to put her arms around the long, lean torso for comfort, but knew that gesture would not be appreciated at the moment.

The blonde detective turned around angry and hurt.  “You mean there’s a collection of porno videos in Evidence that feature my girlfriend!”  Hands rubbed over his face.  “Oh, this is just great.  I wonder how many cops have seen those now.  They’re probably all laughing behind my back.”

That’s when Gillian realized for the first time that nothing could ever be the same between them.

Strangling out the words “I’m sorry” Gillian left the room and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Hearing the soft footed steps run down the linoleum hallway, Hutch realized how this was hurting Gillian also.  Forcing an even look on his face, he went to her bedroom doorway.  “Gillian.  Can I come in?  Can we talk?”

The muffled voice from the other side held a soft cry.  “Please, not tonight.  I need some time alone.  I’m sorry.”  She needed Ken to go away, so she could think clearly.  About her life, her goals, her failed romances, her writing career.

Both detectives had the next day off.  Starsky spent it cleaning his apartment and car.  Hutch spent his jogging on the beach and brooding in his apartment.  Just as he began rummaging through his small refrigerator for something to eat (he had anticipated spending dinner over Gillian’s, so there wasn’t much in his apartment), the phone rang.

“Ken, it’s Gillian.”

“Uh, yeah.  How are you?”  He felt stilted, not knowing what to say to her.

“Ken, I’m leaving.  All last night I gave some serious thought to my life, my career,….our relationship.”  She trailed off.

“Leaving?  On vacation?  Where?”

“I thought this through all last night.  I love you Ken, but there’s too much for us to get through to have a healthy relationship.  And all of it’s my fault.  I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Hutch is dumbfounded.  “Gillian, wait.  Let’s talk.  I’ll come over right now and we can sit down and hash this out.”

“No, please don’t.  This is the way it has to be.  Perhaps sometime in another life the two of us will be meant for each other.  Just not here, not now.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going back home.  My mother’s still alive and I’m going to move in and take care of her.  I’ll continue my writing.  Maybe go back to school and get a degree.  But please, don’t call or come after me.  It’ll hurt too much – for both of us.  I’ll be back for Al’s trial, but…..don’t try to see me.”

Just before she hung up, without letting Hutch say anything else, she whispered.  “Remember, I love.  I will always love you.”  And she left the heartbroken blonde hanging on an empty telephone line.

A loud knocking on the door outside his darkened apartment roused Hutch around 9:00.  For the past few hours he had steadily drank himself into a stupor.

“Hey Hutch!  You in there?”  More knocking.  “Come on buddy.  I know you’re there. 

With no answer after five minutes Starsky checked the ledge over the doorway.  Sure enough, there was no key, meaning that Hutch was home.  Pulling his key ring out of his pocket, Starsky used the spare key to Hutch’s place to let himself in the darkened apartment.

The only light turned on in the apartment was the bathroom ceiling light.  It gave off a dim glow into the living room.  The shadows creeping over the couch and floor gave the atmosphere a dismal aura.

At first glance Starsky didn’t see his partner anywhere, so he thought perhaps he was wrong about him being home.  Then he noticed the doorway onto the greenhouse was cracked opened.  Hutch never left that door opened when he wasn’t home.  The curly-haired detective walked carefully to the greenhouse and pushed the door all the way open.  His blonde partner was lying on the reclining lawn chair that sat flush to the outside kitchen wall.  A long tanned arm was draped over his eyes, while his left hand held a half-empty bottle of beer.

“Hutch?”  He whispered, unsure if his partner was sleeping or passed out.

Hutch moved his hand down to his face and rubbed his eyes.  His long body began a stretch as he set the beer down on the deck.  “What’da wan?”  He slurred, the effect of at least a six-pack evident in his voice and slow movement.

“I, uh, wanted to see what you were doing tonight.  Not very well from the look from the looks of it.  Do you want to talk?”

“Bout what?  As you can see I’m already busy.”

“I can see that.  But drinking alone is not the way to go.”  He paused.  “Gillian called me.”  He said softly.  “She thought maybe you could use your best friend about now.”

“Oh, so now you’re some kind’a consolation prize because I can’t keep a woman?”  Hutch asked sarcastically.

The curly-headed man just stood there looking at him, not saying anything.  He knew that Hutch needed to vent his anger and his disappointment at yet another love gone wrong.

“Like you know how I’m feeling?  Sure, maybe you’ve been dumped a time or two, but have any of your girlfriends ever lied to you the way Gillian lied to me?  Have they ever taken your heart and your soul and then trashed it.  Leaving you out there like you’re hanging on a wire by your fingers in the midst of a hurricane?”  He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the lawn chair, burying his face in his hands.

Starsky sat down next to Hutch.  “I know your hurting Hutch.”

The blonde head shot up, blue eyes dulled with alcohol flashing even in the dark.  “How the hell do you know what I’m feeling?!  Nobody knows,”  he lifted another full beer from the deck. “except maybe Mr. Budweiser.  He understands what I need.”

“I just wanted you to know that I’m here.  If you wanna talk or somethin’.”

Hutch looked sorrowfully at Starsky.  The curly-headed man’s heart almost broke at the look on his best friend’s face.  All of a sudden the long body crumbled as the blonde finally broke down.

“She left me Starsk.”  He sobbed.

Starsky short, thick arms reached out to his partner.  He pulled Hutch close to his chest, wrapping his arms around him as far as they would go.  “Let it out babe.  Just let it go.”  He murmured as his hands rubbed the orange t-shirt covering the blonde’s back.  Hutch dropped the unopened beer as he returned the hug; the soft clatter of the glass as it hit the wooden deck lost under the sounds of the blonde’s cries.

“I’m here for you buddy.  We’ll get ya through this.”  Starsky whispered to his best friend as the soft sounds of the night insects began their evening dance and the lights from the streetlamps flickered softly as they awakened.

Author’s Notes:  Danny Green was a real Mafioso in Cleveland who was blasted to death in a car bomb in the late 70s.  Shondor Birns was his predecessor, whom Danny had killed in the 1960s after his weekly visit to his regular hooker.

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