Newly appointed detective, Ken Hutchinson, tapped at the door to Captain Dobey's office and waited impatiently for permission to enter. He was painfully aware of the intense scrutiny of the dark-haired man slouched at a desk behind him, and the unwanted attention sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

"Come in," came the gruff invitation from within and Hutchinson opened the door gratefully, hurriedly closing it behind him.

Dobey looked up from the stack of reports on his desk, a harried expression on his face. "What is it, Detective…"

"Hutchinson, sir," Ken supplied, adding a small smile for luck. He stood stiffly, his hands clasped behind his back, his fingers crossed.

"What can I do for you, Hutchinson?" Dobey asked rather absently, his gaze drifting down to the folder in front of him.

"It's about my allocation, sir," Hutchinson began.

Dobey looked up at that, one bushy eyebrow raising.

"I was wondering if you could partner me with someone else… sir."

Dobey sat back and crossed his arms over his ample chest. "Why?"

"It's just…" Ken gave a frustrated sigh. "Starsky, sir, well, he's a pain in the ass, sir."

He was certain a small smile twitched the captain's lips. "Is he now?" Dobey asked. "In what way?"

"We went through the Academy together. He's loud, he's a slob, his temper is way too touchy, he acts first and thinks about it later -"

"I'm asking you to ride with him, Hutchinson, not take him home to meet your mother."

Ken felt a blush heat his cheeks. "I know that, sir, I just would have preferred to stay as Ray's partner."

"Ray has another rookie to train," Dobey said firmly. "That's what he does, that's how he likes to work. Train 'em and move on to the next one." Dobey leaned forward and pinned him with a stern glare. "How long have you've been a detective, Hutchinson?"

"Six weeks, sir."

"And after six weeks, you already know more than I do?" There was a dangerous glint in Dobey's eye.

"No, sir, it's just -"

"Good. Get out of here and get your partner. I want you out on the streets, looking for Farelli five minutes ago."

Ken opened his mouth, a ready protest on his lips but it died when Dobey dismissed him with a wave of his hand and turned back to his reports. "Yes, sir."

~o0o~

Detective David Starsky didn't open his eyes when Ken approached his desk. Hutchinson stood for a moment, feeling awkward, unsure if the other man had dozed off or not. He was about to reach out and shake the nearest shoulder when Starsky's eyes snapped open.

"Hey, partner," he said.

Hutchinson remained standing at stiff attention. "Captain wants us out on the street, looking for Farelli."

"Okey-doke." Starsky didn't move a muscle.

"He said five minutes ago."

"Right." Again, there was no movement from the tousle-haired man.

"Detective -"

"Look," Starsky sat up then, "if we're gonna be partners, then we should introduce ourselves first." He stuck out a hand. "David Starsky, just Starsky to my friends."

Ken took the proffered hand and shook it. "Ken Hutchinson," he replied.

Starsky nodded and he grinned widely, accentuating the laugh lines around his eyes, that seemed to be permanently crinkled with amusement. "Hutch," he said.

"-inson," Ken fired back.

Starsky shrugged and stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. "Hutch," he repeated. "Suits you better."

~o0o~

Hutchinson held onto the dash in front of him with a white-knuckled grip as Starsky's Torino took the corner on two wheels and then surged ahead when Starsky floored the accelerator. He glared over at the driver. "Do you mind?"

Starsky looked at him and swallowed the last of his burrito. "Mind what?"

"We're not in a car chase here," Ken said. "We're the cops, remember? Slow down already before you kill us."

Starsky shrugged and eased off the speed just a fraction. "She handles better this way. Besides, we have to go see someone before we hit the streets."

"See who?"

Again, Starsky gave a nonchalant shrug. He spun the steering wheel, sending Hutchinson slamming into the passenger door then jammed on the brakes, sending his new partner almost face-first into the windscreen. He turned off the ignition and grinned at Hutchinson. "Friend of mine. Let's go."

~o0o~

The bar was dark and somewhat smoky, causing Ken's eyes to water. A man drinking at the bar gave them a sideways glance then got up hurriedly and pushed past them, heading for the stairs.

"Hey, Huggy, you here?" Starsky called.

A tall, almost painfully thin black man stepped out from behind the bar, a wide grin on his face. "Starsky, my man! How you doing?"

"Good, Hug." Starsky waved a hand at Ken. "This is my partner, Hutch."

Ken winced at the name then sighed and shook the other man's hand. Starsky wasn't going to give up on the nickname so he might as well go with the flow.

"This is an old friend of mine, Huggy Bear."

Hutch raised an eyebrow. "Huggy Bear?"

Huggy gave a chuckle and waved them over to the bar. "It's a whole lot better than what my folks called me." He turned to Starsky. "So, I heard you made detective. You just here to shoot the breeze or something else?"

Starsky shrugged. "Bit of both. You seen Jason Farelli around lately."

Huggy seemed to consider the question for a moment before speaking. "Bad news, Farelli. I hear he beat one of his girls up real bad last week."

"She died," Hutch put in.

"Try over on Second and Market. I hear he's putting together a new stable of girls. Someone there probably knows where he's hiding out." He looked across the room to where a customer was hassling a waitress. "Give me a minute. Hey, you! Get out of here. No one puts a hand on my girls." Starsky and Hutch watched as Huggy efficiently sent the drunk on his way.

"So, he's your snitch," Hutch said.

Starsky opened his mouth to speak but Huggy cut in. "I am a businessman," he said, sounding offended. "I own this bar and do some wheeling and dealing on the side." He stared at Hutch. "You have a problem with that?"

"Well, as long as it's leg-"

"No problems, Hug, you know that," Starsky interrupted, giving Hutch an icy glare.

"No, no problem," Hutch agreed.

"So what you got this week?" Starsky asked.

"Watches," Huggy said. "Very classy." He looked at Hutch. "Buy one for your lady friend."

"I'm not seeing anyone right now."

Huggy laughed. "You hang around with Starsky, won't be long before he hooks you up with someone."

Starsky pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed Huggy several bills. "We'll take two." He looked at Hutch. "You can pay me later. Gotta go, Hug. You hear anything about Farelli -"

"You'll be the first to know," Huggy replied. "Later, man. Good to meet you, Hutch. Any partner of Starsky's is welcome at Huggy's bar."

~o0o~

Hutch couldn't figure out how it had all gone to hell so quickly. They'd been on their way to Second and Market when Starsky had spotted Farelli sauntering along the street as though he didn't have a care in the world. He'd seen them too and had taken off through a maze of alleys. Starsky navigated the Torino expertly through the traffic, pausing long enough for Hutch to get out and take off in pursuit of the killer. Hutch caught up with Farelli as he attempted to scale a high fence at the end of the alley. Grasping hold of the struggling man's ankles, Hutch dragged him back to the ground. As he fumbled for his cuffs, Farelli lashed out with a knife, slicing into Hutch's arm.

Hutch reared back as the knife bit deeply, his weapon falling from suddenly nerveless fingers. Farelli kicked out, catching Hutch in the knee and he fell backwards, scrabbling desperately for his weapon. The pain in his arm was agonizing but he ignored it and closed his fingers around the grip of his weapon. Farelli was advancing on him, thrusting his knife at Hutch, a maniacal grin on his face.

Blood slicked the butt of Hutch's Magnum and he cursed as it began to slip from his hand.

"Got you now!" Farelli crowed and moved in for the kill.

"Police! Freeze!"

Farelli didn't even look at Starsky, his attention solely on Hutch and Hutch could see the intent in his crazed eyes. Farelli knew the only way he was getting out of this was in a bodybag and he wasn't planning on dying alone.

A shot rang out and Hutch flinched then scrambled backward as Farelli fell forward, a surprised look on his face. He landed face-down, across Hutch's leg, a rapidly widening blood stain discoloring his fancy white shirt.

"Hutch! You okay, partner?" Starsky ran up and checked Farelli's pulse then dragged the body off Hutch's legs.

"I'm okay," Hutch said, dazed. Agony flared in his arm and he attempted to pull it back but it was held firm.

"Easy, partner. Don't want you bleeding all over my interior." Starsky pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it tightly around Hutch's wounded arm.

"Thanks," Hutch said finally then added, "He was just about to -"

"Cavalry arrived in the nick of time, Blintz." Starsky grinned at him and Hutch was surprised to see a genuine look of relief in the dark blue eyes.

"Blintz?" he queried as he let Starsky pull him to his feet.

Starsky shrugged. "I have a thing for nicknames."

Hutch couldn't help smiling as Starsky led him to the Torino and pushed him into the passenger seat. "Is that right, Gordo?"

Starsky laughed out loud at that. "I like it," he said, preening a little. "Suits me. You stay there while I call this in then we'll go get your scratch taken care of."

"Scratch?" Hutch tried to feign offence but couldn't hold the pose. "Damn near cut my arm off."

Starsky shrugged as he reached for the radio. "Scratch," he said determinedly. He made the call then turned to go back to Farelli.

"Hey, Starsky," Hutch said.

"Yeah, Hutch?"

Hutch smiled. "Thanks, partner."

END