Secret Santa Story from Me & Thee list - Part Two
A Fresh Start - Part II
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Starsky cut the siren and Hutch ditched the Mars light as they neared the free clinic on Valley Boulevard. Keeping a careful lookout on the surrounding streets, both hoped they'd spot something suspicious. Hutch noticed that Starsky unconsciously gripped the piece of cloth the Sergeant had given them.
Why flannel? Hutch wondered. It had been unseasonably warm - even for summer - for the past few weeks, with highs in the nineties, and even he had eschewed his turtlenecks and favorite flannels in favor of cooler cotton T-shirts and woven shirts. Who wore flannel in this weather?
Junkies. Especially those going through withdrawal. Their internal body temperature would be all messed up due to the chemical substances they used. Plus junkies frequently used the long sleeves to hide the track marks.
Starsky parked the Torino a couple blocks to the east of Valley Boulevard. Hutch exited the vehicle and waited on the sidewalk for Starsky to join him before walking toward the clinic. As they passed an alley on the next block Hutch heard a faint sound. A rustling coming from behind the dumpsters. A moan of discomfort. After exchanging silent nods, the detectives stealthily approached the source of the noise.
With his gun drawn, Hutch kept pace with Starsky, not wanting to let him out of his sight. He stole a surreptitious look at the form huddled against the alley wall. There, facing away from the street, sat a young man in obvious pain. Moaning, rocking and hugging himself tightly.
The man was wearing a flannel shirt with a large tear in the arm and favoring an injury to that arm, which was bleeding profusely. He was in no shape to put up a fight, but Starsky kept his gun trained on him, as his partner holstered his magnum and broke cover to approach the suspect.
"Hey," Hutch spoke in a gentle tone, trying not to alarm the man. "You look like you could use some help, why don't you come with me and we can get that arm looked at."
Protesting through his chattering teeth, the man said, "No, no, no... can't man. I'm in big trouble. Think I killed a cop... It all happened so fast... this huge demon came at me and I think I blacked out..."
Hutch noticed the gun laying slightly behind the suspect and managed to kick it away without spooking the guy.
"Hey. It's okay. That cop isn't dead," Hutch said soothingly. "They think he's gonna make it. We need to get you some help."
Starsky came around the dumpster to help secure the suspect by clicking the handcuffs around his wrists while Hutch took care not to further aggravate the man's injured arm as he helped him to his feet.
Starsky called for back-up, requesting the suspect be taken, first, to an emergency room and then to a facility for psychiatric observation.
After seeing him loaded into an ambulance, the two men turned to each other, in silent agreement. This seemed to be an appropriate culmination to their career as Bay City's finest detectives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"... And it is with great pride that, as the Mayor of Bay City, I present these commendations for your service and for being injured in the line of duty. Officer Jake Redel..." Mayor Stevenson proclaimed as he presented the award.
Jake accepted the plaque with a proud smile and shook the mayor's hand.
"And Samson." Stevenson added.
At the sound of his name, Samson looked to Jake who nodded toward the mayor. Samson lifted his paw to shake.
There were cheers from all who had gathered, including Starsky and Hutch who attended the ceremony to honor their friends.
It had been several weeks since the day Jake and Samson had been shot by that junkie. Jake's knife wound had healed completely, and Samson also seemed to be recovering well, though there was still a visible patch of short fur on his hind leg where the Veterinarian had shaved him.
Things had changed for Starsky and Hutch during those weeks as well. After following up on the trial of that last case of the purse snatcher, Starsky and Hutch had resigned from the BCPD.
They entertained a few ideas of what to do with their lives, but were taking their time. Hutch, especially, didn't want to rush into anything. Though lately, he had been seriously considering the idea of starting a private detective agency with his partner.
*************************
"It's a great idea, Hutch. We'll still be able to help people and make a difference. And I know how much you like to solve puzzles. Just think, you'll be able to use that big beautiful brain of yours that way you were meant to," Starsky enthused, as they lay in bed on that morning of the scheduled awards ceremony.
"You know, it makes me so hot when you start complimenting my brain-power," Hutch said as turned within the circle of his partner's arms. "Next thing you know, you'll start singing the praises of my cooking prowess."
"Well, you know what they say; the way to a man's heart..." Starsky left the sentence unfinished as he went in for a kiss.
"Don't I know it," Hutch sighed when their lips parted. "C'mon. We're both sticky. We have just enough time for a shower if we want to make Jake's commendation ceremony."
"And Sammy. He's gettin' an award too. Don't forget."
"Right. That's why we have both the bottle of champagne and the Milk Bones for the celebration," Hutch confirmed as they headed to get showered and dressed.
*****************************
"Congratulations guys. Looking good Jake. Have you been cleared for duty yet?" Starsky asked, as he and Hutch approached Redel when the crowd thinned.
"Just this week," Jake said, but he didn't sound as excited as Hutch thought he would. Jake was still fairly young and Hutch couldn't see him getting burned out this soon.
"What's wrong Jake? Thought you'd be chomping at the bit to get back out there," Hutch said.
"It's Sammy," He said, looking mournfully at his canine companion.
"I thought the vet said he was okay. We checked. And he looks good.. .except for that limp," Starsky said. He crouched down to give Samson a firm scritching around the neck and ears, and produced a Milk Bone treat, from his jacket, which Samson accepted with enthusiasm.
"That's just it. The limp. It's not gonna get any better. The vet says he's not in pain, and healthy otherwise, but the bullet shattered a good portion on his hind leg bone..." Jake hesitated. "Damn... there's no easy way to say this. He can't be a Police dog anymore. He doesn't pass their standards." He absently stroked the dog's furry ears and Samson woofed with pleasure. "And I get it, I really do. They need to have the fittest dogs out there with all they're expected to do. But I just feel..."
"Well... Hey! That's okay. He's earned his retirement. Haven't you Sammy?" Starsky said, now hugging Sam along with the scratching, resulting in a vigorously wagging tail. "Jake's just gonna have to wait on you from now on. That doesn't sound so bad." Samson licked Starsky, as if in agreement.
Now, Jake really looked forlorn.
"What is it Jake?" Hutch asked, concerned for this man he'd watched develop into a promising young Police Officer.
"If I want to keep my position as head of the K-9 unit, I'll need to be assigned a new partner," he choked. "A new dog. And when you train a new canine, it's best if you do it solo. No other dogs. It can interfere with the bonding process, as well as affect their ability to learn..."
"So what happens to Sammy?" Starsky asked, sounding concerned.
"We look for somebody to take him in. I'll hate letting him go," Jake said honestly. "It's hard to imagine someone who would take him that's gonna measure up to my standards."
"How about an old ex-cop?" Starsky suggested.
"That'd be great. I'm not sure how to begin searching..."
Hutch knew what his partner was thinking, and decided to add his support.
"How about two ex-cops? Though I'm not sure I'd agree with the 'old' part," he amended.
The look he got from Starsky warmed his soul. Truthfully, Hutch knew Starsky had a soft spot for dogs, and had considered getting one for them. And this situation seemed to make more sense than trying to train a puppy.
"You mean it? You two? That'd be great!" Jake brightened, and clapped Hutch on the arm. "Sammy knows you guys and I know he'd feel comfortable with you. I'd feel a lot less like I was abandoning him if I knew... I mean - if you're sure."
Knowing that Jake was fighting conflicting emotions, Hutch leaned down to pet Samson in order to give the man a moment to collect his thoughts. He was, no doubt, feeling relief along with guilt and some worry.
"Sure, we're sure. He'll be great company now that we've got some extra time on our hands," Starsky assured him.
Looking back and forth between the detectives and Jake, Samson continued happily wagging his tail, as though he knew he was the subject of conversation. He then proceeded to roll on his back and expose his stomach.
"Yeah, and maybe he'll be able to keep this guy out of trouble," Hutch added as he reached across to accommodate Samson's desire for a belly rub. "You think you can manage that, Sam?"
Both men now crouched down, scratching and petting the dog, and their eyes met.
"Thanks," Starsky mouthed silently.
Hutch just gave a little nod. He had a good feeling about this decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next months, Starsky and Hutch settled into their new lives comfortably. The detective agency turned out to be a nice fit for them and they were grateful to find how well the fairly consistent working hours meshed with their home life.
Both men did what they could to ensure that Sam lived a fulfilling existence.
Hutch enjoyed having Sam for company on his morning jogs. He didn't tell Starsky, but he even talked to Samson sometimes when he felt melancholy and thought it beat the hell out of going to a shrink. He wasn't sure dogs could really understand humans. But, sometimes, he thought Samson seemed possess real empathy. Of course, intellectually, Hutch would dismiss those thoughts almost as quickly as they came.
Starsky loved to throw a Frisbee and have Samson catch it in mid-air. Always praising him and telling him he was the smartest and best dog in the world. For his part, Starsky never doubted that Samson knew exactly what he was saying or how he felt about things.
Together, the partners showered Samson with affection and treated him with respect and love.
Sometimes... too much.
"Starsky... What did we say about Samson sleeping on our bed?" Hutch asked one morning, having awoken to an armful of a hairy beast instead of his partner.
"Okay. I know that's one o'them rhetorical questions," Starsky sat up higher on the pillows, bare-chested. "'Cause we both know he's usually supposed to sleep in his dog bed..."
"Usually? I didn't realize there were stipulations. Care to enlighten me?" Not really angry, Hutch just liked to yank his partner's chain.
"Well this is what you might call a 'special circumstance'," Starsky explained, as though giving court testimony. "Did you hear that thunder last night? Nah, didn't think so. Just 'cause you can sleep through the storm of the century, doesn't mean we all can."
"Hey, I wake up for important stuff," Hutch countered.
"Yes," Starsky nudged Sam out of the way and kissed Hutch on the nose. "You do. And I'm more grateful than you know about that." Starsky waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his partner.
"Not in front of the dog, Gordo." But Hutch couldn't stifle his own grin.
Starsky sighed. "Anyway. It turns out Sam don't like thunder too much. I talked to Jake about it once; he said it's a new behavior since the shooting. I'm thinkin' it might be kinda like a dog-version of stress; kinda like what war vets get." Samson looked intently at Starsky as he spoke.
Hutch completely softened then, nuzzling the dog who snuffled a little into his hand. Starsky was trying to understand the dog-psyche and, in typical Starsky fashion, had been reading as many books and articles as he could find on the subject. Hutch had to love that about him.
"Okay. I can see where the shooting could be the source of some painful memories," Hutch allowed. "If dogs even have memories..." he added, quickly trying to correct himself, but it was too late. Starsky had him.
"You big softie. Knew you'd see it our way..."
"Well, I'm not sure I like the idea of you two conspiring against me here." Hutch held up his hands in defeat. "But I guess it's okay to allow him on our bed during thunderstorms," Hutch said in a put-upon tone that he knew Starsky didn't buy for a minute. "But, the storms over now so..."
"Yep, you're right, Blintz. C'mon Sammy. Time to get down."
Samson didn't need to be told twice. After jumping down, he paused just long enough for the partners to give him some pats then trotted off to his own bed in the other room.
"Wow. Look at all this room we have now," Hutch said in feigned wonder. "What do you suppose we should do with it?"
Starsky pounced and showed him, exactly, what they could do with the extra room. Twice.