This is for Avoca, who was kind enough to bid for my story on the Starsky and Hutch charity auction. Thank you, I'm honored. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. Got your Starsky owies in there, as well as a little Hutch owie as well. Hey, ya can't blame a Hutchbabe for trying, can ya?

DISCLAIMER: Starsky and Hutch do not belong to me. They belong to Avoca <bg>. Nah, not really. They belong to someone else. If they were ours, they'd be playing themselves in the movie. Anyway, no copyright infringement is intended.

"I've just gotta stop at the bank, Starsk."

Starsky sighed loudly as he turned to look at his partner. "Hutch, I'm starving here, pal. I haven't eaten anything except a candy bar since this morning and it's now 2 PM. I gotta get some food soon or I'm not going to be able to bail you out of whatever trouble you get yourself into today."

Hutch straightened in his seat and watched as Starsky pulled the Torino into a parking space a block away from the bank. "Hey, you're the one who insisted it's my turn to buy lunch, partner. I don't have any cash on me. If you want to pick up the tab yourself, be my guest." He smiled as Starsky groaned in frustration. "It'll only take 5 minutes, Starsk. Come in with me, then you can scope out the pretty tellers while you're waiting."

Starsky brightened visibly at that. "Okay, but no hanging around chatting up the ladies while I slowly fade away, all right. I mean, we go in, you get your money, we leave and go eat. Deal?"

"Deal," Hutch agreed, getting out of the car and heading off in the direction of the bank, hearing his partner scurrying to catch him up. "You know what I don't understand, Starsk? With all the crap you put in your body, how come you don't look like Dobey?"

"Hey, Hutch, my body is a temple, you know. It just needs different offerings than yours."

"Yeah, right," Hutch laughed, as they entered the bank. He filled out a slip and joined the shortest queue, hearing Starsky curse when he realized that this line, though the shortest, still had three people in it ahead of them.

Starsky jiggled from foot to foot, finally leaning past Hutch to see what was holding up the line. The guy at the teller's counter seemed to be arguing with the girl, muttering something. The teller's face was pale and she looked up and caught Starsky's eye.

"Help," she mouthed silently.

"What the..." Starsky whispered, his hand reaching out to grasp his partner's elbow. He risked another quick look at the counter and gave the girl a reassuring nod. Carefully, he edged the front of his jacket open, just enough to show the badge attached to his belt.

"Starsk?" Hutch turned and looked inquiringly at him. "What's up?"

"Not sure," Starsky said softly, tugging Hutch's shoulder down so he could speak into his ear. "Holdup, maybe."

"Shit!" Hutch said, expressively.

"Yeah," Starsky agreed. He kept his hand on Hutch's shoulder and risked another peek around his partner's body. The guy had turned away from the counter slightly, his eyes sweeping nervously around him on all sides, enabling Starsky to see the gun he had aimed at the woman. The teller was stuffing money into a bag, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks as the man said something to her sharply.

Hutch looked at him for confirmation and when he saw Starsky nod, leaned forward and whispered into the ear of the man in front of him. "Sir, I'm a police officer and there is a robbery taking place. I need you to move out of the line as quietly as you can."

The man turned startled eyes on him but did as he was told as Hutch unobtrusively flashed his badge. One down, two to go. Hutch moved forward and repeated the same thing to the woman standing there. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, choking back a scream as Hutch put his finger to his lips to silence her. She moved aside and walked shakily to the door. Only one more civilian to get out of the line of fire.

Hutch moved a step ahead cautiously, hoping they could clear the way and get word out for backup before the robber made his escape and he and Starsky were forced to pull their weapons out. He put his hand on the shoulder of the last man in line and softly mouthed the warning into the man's ear. The man turned and gave him a shocked look then backed up toward the robber. He reached a hand into his jacket and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the cop's face.

"What did you say, cop? There's a robbery going down? Thanks for the warning. Steve, we got a cop here who wants to stop us making our little withdrawal."

Steve reached across the counter and grabbed the front of the teller's shirt, pulling her partway across the counter. He pushed his gun into the frightened girl's face. "Disarm him, Tom. Tell him I'll shoot this bitch right through her sweet face if he doesn't do it."

"You heard my friend, cop. Take your gun out slowly with two fingers and put it down on the ground then kick it across to me. You got that, pretty boy?"

"I got it," Hutch growled. He did as he was told, trying to see where Starsky was at the same time. He felt a small nudge in his back as Starsky let him know he was still there.

Hutch bent to place the gun on the floor and kicked it over to rest at the gunman's feet. He stood up carefully. He knew they would have seen Starsky behind him when he did, but he hoped they'd think his partner was just another bank customer. He prayed Starsky had been able to get his gun out while the robber's attention had been on him and closed his eyes in relief as he heard the small snick of the safety being taken off.

Starsky held his weapon close against his side. He couldn't risk a shot while the girl was still in danger. He waited for the men to grab the bags of money and release the sobbing woman. The robbers turned and faced Hutch, having obviously decided Starsky was no threat to them. They backed towards the doors, then the one called Steve stopped and raised his gun. "Say goodbye, cop," he sneered.

Starsky hit Hutch as hard as he could with his hip, twisting his partner around and away, sending him stumbling to the floor. He tried to regain his stance and bring his own weapon up to return fire, but knew in a heartbeat he was too late.

He felt a thumping pain in his right shoulder and he flew back against the wall, his feet skidding out from under him as they tried keep purchase on the slippery tile. Then, he was sliding down, hitting the ground with abrupt force. The world around him suddenly wavered in and out of focus, his vision graying out. He felt a burning ache in his shoulder and reached up with his hand to cover it. He pulled his fingers away and stared at the redness on them dazedly.

Hutch made it to his knees and stared in shock at his downed partner. He could hear sirens in the distance. He began to crawl over to Starsky, but came to a sudden halt as he saw one of the gunmen reach down and grind the barrel of the gun into the side of Starsky's face. "Don't move, cop, or your buddy here gets it."

Starsky groaned. He tried to pull away from the cold metal gouging his cheek but the pain that flared through him when he tried to move stopped him and he sat still, his breath coming in panting gasps. "Hutch..." he moaned.

"I'm here, buddy. Just stay still, okay. You're gonna be fine," Hutch called. He wanted nothing more than to be at Starsky's side, but he didn't dare do anything to provoke these men. They'd already proven they had no qualms about cop killing and Hutch had no intention of risking his partner's life. He could see the blood spreading down the front of Starsky's jacket. Somehow, he had to find a way to prevent them both from being killed.

"So far, nobody's died, Steve," he said to the man holding the gun to Starsky's face. "Cop killing's a big deal. You'll do hard time. Just leave us here. Let me get my partner to the hospital. It'll go a lot easier on you, believe me."

"Maybe the pretty boy's right, Steve. We should just get out now," the other perp whined. "I don't want to go down for killing no cop, man."

"Shut up, let me think for a minute," Steve yelled. "Okay, this is what we're gonna do. Tom, you help the cop take his pal out to the van in the alley and load him up. Tell Jake to be ready to peel on out of there the minute we're all on board."

"But, Steve..." Tom began, obviously picturing a long line of pissed off cops on their tail for killing one of their own.

"Just do it, Tom. You ain't the brains of this organization. Follow orders, okay?" Steve barked.

"Why don't you lock us up here somewhere?" Hutch ventured. He looked across at Starsky. His partner was only semi conscious at best, his chest heaving as he strained to draw breath, the blood marking an ever-widening circle on his jacket.

"Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea, Steve. Listen, there's that empty storage room we passed on the way in, remember?' We lock them up there and we leave. We gotta go now, man. We're going to be surrounded by pigs any second," Tom said, desperately.

"Get them out to the van NOW!" Steve screamed, his face flushed with anger. He lifted the gun away from Starsky's face and pointed it at his compadre. "Do it! Or do you want a taste of this too?"

"No, no, man, it's cool. Come on, pretty boy. Get your friend on his feet but no tricks or you'll both be dead." Tom aimed his gun at the back of Hutch's head and motioned him over to Starsky.

Hutch didn't wait to be told twice. In seconds, he was kneeling next to Starsky, one hand reaching out to gently tap his partner's face, while he used his voice to try and rouse him from his stupor.

"Hey, Starsk, I'm going to get you on your feet now, okay, buddy. It might hurt a bit, but you hang tough for me, all right, pal?" he whispered, as he reached down and grabbed Starsky's uninjured arm and as carefully as he could, given the circumstances, and the guns leveled at his head, hauled him to his feet. He took most of the injured man's weight and headed for the back exit, the two perps close behind.

When they reached the van, Steve leaned in and opened the back doors, then nodded to Tom, who grabbed Starsky's feet and helped Hutch manhandle him into the back of the vehicle.

Hutch turned as he felt someone grab his shoulder. There was a sudden shocking pain against the side of his head and he felt his legs sag under him as the world went black.

Tom hoisted Hutch's body up and tipped him into the back of the van, to fall in a crumpled heap across Starsky's legs. Then he banged on the door and climbed up after him. The van took off out of the alley, tires squealing. Police cars were just beginning to pull up in front of the bank, but the driver turned in the opposite direction, heading for the outskirts of town.

~oOo~

Hutch groaned as he woke, his head pounding. He cracked his eyes open and winced as even that slight movement caused pain to flare in his head. He blinked until he could bring his surroundings into focus and cast his mind back to try to remember why he'd be out here, on his back on the ground with a pounding headache. The bank! Starsky was hit! He noticed it was dark and some functioning part of his brain tried to work out the time between then and now but it had all telescoped together. He remembered getting Starsky out to the van... then nothing.

*Jeez, Starsk!* The memories crashed against his brain and he pushed himself up frantically. Within seconds, he regretted his hastiness as his stomach flipped over and sent bile flooding into his mouth. He turned his head to the side and retched violently, feeling as if he was bringing up every meal he'd eaten in the past week. Eventually, the spasms stopped, the world was only slightly gyrating and he was able to look around without feeling as if he was going to pass out.

A mumbled groan at his feet had him lurching unsteadily to his knees, feeling with his hands until his fingers encountered the unmistakable form of his partner. His body followed his questing fingers, and he knee walked his way down till he could feel Starsky's curls against his hand. He felt along his partner's neck, searching for a heartbeat. After agonizing seconds he found it... rapid but there, reassuringly still there, and Hutch bent his head and cupped Starsky's cheek in his hand and whispered, hoping his partner would hear, "It's okay, Starsk. I'm here. I'm going to get you home, I promise. Hang on for me, babe."

Starsky groaned, turning his head toward the sound of his voice. "Hutch?" The word was a sigh, filled with pain and confusion and Hutch pressed a hand against his partner's shoulder in reassurance.

"I'm here, Starsk. You're gonna be okay. Just give me a minute to rest and then I'll get you home." Hutch tipped forward, tiny lights prickling across his vision. He let his head rest on the cold ground for a moment, then pushed himself back to his knees. "Starsk, do you think you can walk if I help you?" he asked.

"I can try, " Starsky muttered. "Maybe you should just go get help."

"No way, buddy. You'll freeze to death if I leave you here. We just need to find some shelter for tonight then we'll catch a ride in the morning. Dobey's sure to have patrols out looking for us. We'll be fine, Starsk," Hutch said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

~oOo~

Hutch felt they'd been on the move for hours. After ten minutes of being on his feet, Starsky had become an almost dead weight, his feet dragging and tripping under him as Hutch fought to keep him upright.

At first, the shape in front of them made no sense then Hutch realized it was a car, parked on the side of the road. Heart in his mouth he hauled Starsky the last few feet and propped him up against the rear door. "Maybe our luck's in, Starsk," he said, as he made sure that his partner was more or less upright. "Give me a second, pal. Gonna see if I can pop the door."

To Hutch's surprise, the driver's door was unlocked and the key was still in the ignition. He turned it and groaned in frustration as he heard only the clicking sound of a dead battery. Still, the car would provide them with protection against the elements for the night. He headed back to Starsky, finding that he'd slid down and was sitting slumped against the car. Hutch lifted the limp body in his arms and maneuvered him into the back seat, laying him carefully on the back seat.

Ignoring the incessant pounding in his own head, he flicked on the interior light, relieved when it flickered and stayed on. It was dim at best but he could see better than before. He pulled Starsky's jacket open, grimacing at the amount of blood that stained his partner's chest. The wound was still seeping slowly. Hutch grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the front console and wadded them firmly over the wound.

Starsky writhed away from the pressure, twisting his head and muttering incoherently.

"Hey, hey, buddy, take it easy," Hutch murmured. He placed his other hand on Starsky's forehead and massaged gently. "I need to stop the bleeding, Starsk. Lay still, all right. I'm right here with you. Just rest."

Eventually his calming words had the effect he wanted, as he saw Starsky's body relax and his eyes opening to fix dazedly on Hutch's face.

"Hutch?" Starsky husked out.

"Yeah, it's me, Starsk. You're gonna be okay," Hutch whispered back, carding his fingers gently through his partner's hair.

"It hurts, Hutch," Starsky moaned. He reached a shaking hand out and Hutch grabbed it and held it close to his heart.

"I know, babe, I know, but we'll get you to a hospital and they'll fix that pain right up. You trust me, right, partner?" Hutch murmured past the lump in his throat. "You feel that, Starsk? That's my heart beating and as long as you can feel it I'm not gonna let you go." We can do this, Starsk. Not gonna let a couple of punks take us down, are we?"

Starsky shook his head hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What for?" Hutch asked, surprised.

"Wasn't quick enough," Starsky said, quietly. "Didn't get my gun up fast enough..." The words dropped away as he grunted in pain, his hand clenching around Hutch's own.

"Not your fault, pal. Doesn't matter now. The only thing that matters is you holding on. You just keep holding on, Starsk. I've got you here, okay?" Hutch bent his head close to Starsky's, so his partner could see him better.

Starsky let go of Hutch's hand and reached up to touch the blond hair, tracing down along his cheek where blood had dried in a long trail. "You're hurt, too," he said worriedly. "I didn't know, Hutch. Sorry. You held me up all this way and you're hurt too."

"Will you stop with the apologies, already, Starsk. It's nothing, just a crack on the head. You know what you're always telling me. As long it's just my head, there can't be any real damage, right?" Hutch smiled. "Just rest, okay. I'm going to see if there's anything in the trunk of the car, we can use. Blankets, maybe. It's going to get colder. We need to keep you warm, somehow."

"Sure you're up to it?" Starsky asked.

"Yeah, I told you. I don't even have much of a headache anymore." Hutch patted Starsky reassuringly on the arm, then backed out of the car. Turning around, he bent double and breathed deeply, trying to stop the incessant spinning in his head. Eventually, he was able to straighten up and head around to the trunk of the car.

Opening it, he found a veritable treasure trove. No blankets, but a large tarpaulin that would still be effective in keeping his partner warm. There was a large bottle of water, that Hutch sniffed then tasted cautiously. It was brackish, as if it had been in the car for a while, but it was drinkable. Hutch took several large gulps, which he instantly regretted as his stomach heaved and it was only by taking deep breaths that he was able to keep it down. He was concussed, he knew, so he'd have to go easy on the water. Better to drink small sips and not risk vomiting it up. He'd be no good to Starsky if he got dehydrated and passed out again. Under the tarp was a motorist's first aid kit, which looked barely used. Hutch was grateful to whatever Gods watched over crazy cops for the bandages, aspirin and disinfectant he found inside it.

He made his way back around to the back door and climbed through, hauling his cargo with him. He kneeled down next to back seat and took the lid off the bottle of water.

"Hey, Starsk, how you doing?" he asked, touching his partner's shoulder. "I found some water and a first aid kit. Here, just take a couple of sips, though. Don't want you throwing up." He held the lip of the bottle to Starsky's mouth and tipped it carefully, stopping when the water began trickling out of Starsky's mouth and the injured cop began coughing weakly. " Sorry, it's not exactly Dom Perignon but at least it's wet, right? Easy, buddy. Take a breath or two, then I'm gonna fix up your shoulder a bit better. Okay, this is probably gonna sting a bit but, hey, you're a big tough cop, right? Right, pal?"

Starsky nodded once then winced as the disinfectant bit into the open wound.

Hutch cleaned away as much of the blood as he could, glad to see it had stopped bleeding. He taped a gauze dressing over the bullet hole and wiped away the beads of sweat he could see dotting Starsky's forehead. "Listen, pal, I gotta turn you over a bit and see if I can feel an exit wound, all right? Just put your arm across your chest here and I'm just going to pull you over toward me for a sec."

They managed the maneuver relatively easily then Hutch reached an arm over and felt carefully along Starsky's back. He couldn't feel any wound so he rolled him back to his former position and covered him with the tarp. "Looks like the bullet's still in there, Starsk. In a way, that's good. Less blood loss," he said.

"More chance of infection, though," Starsky whispered weakly.

Hutch's head snapped up at the words and he began to comb through Starsky's hair soothingly. "You don't need to worry about that. I told you, by morning, maybe before, someone's going to find us. Have I ever lied to you?" he asked, his head resting against his friend's, continuing the comforting massage.

"Well..." Starsky began. He stopped and coughed again, then closed his eyes, relaxing into the calming feel of Hutch's fingers across his head.

"That's it, babe. Get some rest. I'll be right here, Starsk." Hutch tugged at the tarp so it was covering both of them, then when he was sure his partner was asleep, he moved so his head was on the edge of the seat and he was able to take Starsky's hand in his. He fought sleep for a long time, but the combined effects of his head injury and the stresses of the day overtook him and he drifted off.

~oOo~

There were voices around him when he woke and Hutch felt himself being pulled from the car. Dazed, he fought the hands pushing him down to the ground, struggling to sit up. "No, leave him alone," he shouted, "Starsky!" He opened his eyes and finally managed to focus on a face above him.

"Easy, Hutchinson, easy."

A familiar voice broke through his panic and he stopped fighting, leaning back on his elbows, while he struggled against the renewed pounding in his skull.

"Captain?" he husked.

"Yeah, Ken, it's me," Dobey said, "take it easy, now. Just lie still while we get Dave out of the car. Then we'll get you both to the hospital." He reached a meaty hand down and pushed gently on Hutch's shoulder, forcing him flat.

Hutch blinked against the morning sun, the light causing flashes of pain to stab through his head. "Starsk? Is he...?"

"He's unconscious, lost a lot of blood but he'll make it, Detective," one of the attendants next to Hutch responded quickly. "You did a good job of keeping him alive."

"Yeah, well, he's tough, you know," Hutch whispered, turning his head to watch his partner being loaded into the ambulance. Starsky was alive. He closed his eyes again, letting the darkness finally take him this time, knowing it was safe to let go.

~oOo~

Hutch raised his head from where he was resting it against the back of the chair as he heard the soft muttered groan that told him his partner was waking up. Starsky had been unconscious for almost two days now. The surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage to torn muscle and blood vessels had taken over 4 hours and the medical staff had kept him heavily sedated until now. They reasoned that the rigors of the experience warranted plenty of rest and they had enough first hand knowledge of Starsky's less than stellar reputation as a patient to know the best way to achieve that was by artificial means.

Hutch knew they were right. His own record for following doctor's orders was no better than his partner's and, in fact he'd fought against being kept in hospital for observation of his concussion until Dobey had made it an order. Only the fact that they'd put Starsky in the same room with him after surgery had kept him there. So, he'd been sneaking out of bed every chance he got, as soon as the nurses were out of the room, to sit next to Starsky's bed, wanting to believe that his partner somehow knew he was there.

"Hey, pal, you waking up?" he asked quietly, reaching out a hand to cup Starsky's cheek.

Starsky moaned but turned his head into Hutch's palm.

"How about you open those blue eyes of yours, buddy? Let me see for sure you're okay," Hutch murmured.

Slowly, Starsky opened his eyes, squinting against the light. "Hutch? You okay?"

"Yeah, I told you, remember? Bump on the head, couple of stitches, nothing to worry about. You just rest up and get better soon, okay?" Hutch said, moving his hand down to pat Starsky's hand.

"I'm tired," Starsky whispered. "Doesn't hurt much, though."

"That's good, that's real good, Starsk," Hutch said, feeling hot moisture stinging his eyes. He squeezed Starsky's hand. "You get some more sleep. I'll be right over there in the next bed, if you need me, okay? You did real good out there, pal. You held on, just like I told you to."

"I just held onto the nearest thing," Starsky said with a tired smile. "And that was you, Hutch. Thanks, babe." He closed his eyes.

"Anytime, partner. You just reach out if you need me. You know I'll be there," Hutch replied. He sighed deeply as he heard his partner's breathing slip into the restful rhythm of sleep, then he leaned his head back and closed his own eyes, keeping his hand around Starsky's wrist, letting the steady beat lull him to sleep.

The End

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