This story was originally published in The Lucky and the Strong, put out by The Idiot Triplets Press in 1993. This zine is still in print and can be obtained by contacting: LCabrillo@aol.com. Thanks go to Morag for typing and SHaron for proof-reading. Comments about this story can be sent to: VenicePlaceAngel@aol.com
OFFICER FRIENDLY
by
Constance Collins
"Oh, no, it was Safety Day, wasn't it?" Terry groaned. The day had started off badly, what with her iron going on the fritz, necessitating a quick change of wardrobe plans. And then her car refused to start. She'd managed to get to school forty-five minutes late, missing her first period completely.
Jeanne McCormick, the vice-principal, caught up with Terry as she was walking to her classroom. "And you had to miss it."
"What is it about these stupid safety talks that seem to frazzle the kids so? How can they be so bored and wound up all at the same time? And it seems to take the rest of the day to calm them back down."
Jeanne grinned. "It may take me the rest of the day to settle down -- and it'll probably take the girls at least a week."
Terry stopped dead and faced Jeanne. "Why?"
"He's positively gorgeous," Jeanne answered, smirking.
Terry groaned again. "Just wonderful. What does the LAPD have against us? Why do they always do this? Don't they employ anyone who's fat, bald and fifty?"
"Sadism," Jeanne answered positively. "Why else? Anyhow, it was a lot better than the last time; that policewoman couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and I think she painted her uniform on. By the time she got around to telling them never to take candy from strangers, the boys were drooling."
"I remember. Well, where is this cutie? Or did I miss him?" Terry asked.
"Still in the auditorium, sitting on the edge of the stage, flirting with a small covey of love-struck girls."
"My class, I suppose?" Terry sighed.
"You were the only teacher not there to hustle her class back to their room. Principal Fearless Leader's sort of watching them."
Terry had to smile, knowing exactly what Jeanne meant. "Watching him, you mean. Well, dammit. Oh, thanks, Jeanne." Terry did an abrupt about-face and hurried into the auditorium, intent on damage-control. Once inside she stopped short, staring at the uniformed officer. Curly, dark hair, impossibly magnetic smile, and fine, expressive hands. Oh, hell, Jeanne's right -- he's adorable. And there he sits in his cute blue uniform, charming them out of their minds, and who cares if not one of them pays any attention to me, or learns anything, for the rest of the day. Not to mention not having learned a damn thing about safety. Fat, bald, and fifty, that's the answer.
It wasn't just the girls who were hanging around; as Jeanne had warned her, their principal was there, hanging on the man's every word as if she was parched for conversation. And the boys, too, were utterly in awe of this Officer Whoever. It's just the uniform. I know they wear them so the kids will be impressed, but... Terry walked over to the stage and clapped her hands. "All right class, let's line up. Assembly's over--" After a few minutes the kids reluctantly got in line. The officer jumped down off the stage, said a few words to the principal, then walked over to Terry. Getting a good look at his seductive indigo eyes, Terry felt her heart beat a little faster. Dear lord, he is stunning.
"Hi, I'm Dave Starsky."
Terry put out her hand. "Terry Robertson."
"Nice to meet you." Motioning toward the kids, he added, "They've been telling me all about you. Hear you had car trouble."
Feeling somewhat self-conscious, Terry was anxious to leave. "Um -- yes, I did." Deliberately, she forced herself into her competent, in-charge teacher mode, and dismissed him. "It was very nice meeting you, Officer Starsky, but we've got to get to class."
~~~
She was crossing the street to get to the bus stop when she heard a man yell, "Hey, d'you sleep through the part about never crossing in the middle of the street?"
A bright red car eased up next to her, and Terry turned to see Officer -- what was his name? She couldn't remember. "I missed your little talk, remember? But my mother told me never to get in a car with a strange man."
"Your mother never met me." Starsky smiled persuasively.
Very true, Terry thought. If she had, she'd have pushed me into the car and slammed the door.
"It's good advice," Starsky added, "but you're not a little girl anymore."
"Ever hear of date rape?" Terry shot back.
"I didn't ask you out on a date," Starsky protested. "I was about to offer you a ride home. And I'm not a rapist; I arrest rapists."
Terry looked at him for a long moment, thinking. It wasn't sensible, and she'd always prided herself on being sensible. But, God, whatever he had -- charm, animal magnetism, whatever -- he had more than every other man she'd ever met. And if she let him get away, she knew she'd regret it. She walked around and got into the car. "What happened to your uniform and patrol car?" she asked, looking at his worn jeans and faded t-shirt.
"Back hanging in my closet. Well, the uniform, anyway. And this is my car. I'm plainclothes, a detective in homicide."
Terry frowned. "Isn't it rather unusual, sending a detective to give a safety talk?"
Starsky shot her a grin, and she felt her heart pitter-pat. "Yeah, well, me and my partner are being punished. Our cap'n got mad at us for rearranging the furniture in his office." Starsky did not mention that they'd piled all the furniture against the door. "I don't know who ratted on us, but anyhow, this's his idea of a punishment."
"Where's your partner?"
"Collins Academy. Bet he knocked their socks off." The tone of total pride in his voice surprised Terry.
"Well, how long do you think you'll have to spend serving time?"
"Rest of the week, unless business picks up. Don't tell anybody, but I'm havin' a ball."
You hide it so well, Terry thought. "Why does it have to be a secret?"
"'Cause Dobey wouldn't consider it a punishment if he knew what a great time I'm having. Hey, you hungry?"
"Uh, well, yeah--"
"Terrific. I'm s'posed to meet my partner at Tozzi's Pizza palace."
Terry was amused. This was not in any way her idea of a usual first date, but how could she resist this sweet, gorgeous, sexy man, whose flirt dial was obviously stuck on high -- well, who could resist?
~~~
Ken Hutchinson was the last thing Terry expected -- tall, blond, just as good looking as Dave, but in a totally different way. He was still wearing his uniform and looked like he'd just walked off the cover of The Police Gazette, or maybe out of its centerfold.
Starsky stammered for a minute, obviously trying to remember who to introduce first, but finally managed to get it across to Terry that this was his partner, and to Hutch that her name was Terry Robertson and she taught at the Marshall Center for Exceptional Children. "You don't mind if she joins us for dinner, right?" Starsky asked, scooting into the booth next to Hutch and making room for Terry. She sat down next to him, and Starsky put one arm around her, possessively.
Hutch smiled at her warmly. "Well, partner, I guess Dobey's got your number. Do you think you can teach him anything, Ms. Robertson, or is he a hopeless case?'
"He thinks he's clever," Starsky told her. "No one else does." He turned to his partner. "Were you smart enough to order the pizza? And where's Christine? The ladies' room?"
"Yes, I ordered the pizza, and no, Christine's not in the ladies' room; she had to work late. She said she'd meet us at your place, and save her some pizza." Hutch turned to Terry. "Ms. Robertson, do you think you can help me keep this human garbage disposal from eating everything in sight?"
Terry laughed. "I'll do my best. And please, call me Terry. Tell me, how did you like Collins Academy for Girls?" She could see what Starsky had meant when he said Hutch would knock their socks off.
Hutch made a face. "That's the Collins Academy for Young Women."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Terry apologized facetiously.
"So, how'd it go?" Starsky prompted.
Hutch seemed lost in thought for a moment, then out of the blue he asked Starsky, "You've got a Christmas tree, right?"
Terry didn't understand this as an answer, and from the look on Starsky's face she got the idea he didn't either. "Am I supposed to be following this, or do I need my magic decoder ring?"
Hutch smiled tightly and drew a small boxed ornament from his pocket and handed it to Starsky. Starsky took it, examining it curiously: a two-inch sterling silver star on a red velvet ribbon. "Very nice. Kinda looks like something what's her-name woulda bought -- quiet, tasteful, expensive as hell--"
"I didn't buy it, dummy; they gave it to me at Collins." Hutch was quite obviously trying to keep his anger under control.
"Ah-ha, accepting gratuities. I'm tellin' IA--"
"Shut up. I told them I couldn't accept it and that Collins woman told me that her 'very good friend, the mayor' wouldn't like it if I offended the girls by refusing their heartfelt gift--" Again Hutch made a face. "And how was your day?"
"Well, things were a little different at Marshall. There, if you go for a safety talk near Christmas time, they make you have dinner with their prettiest teacher."
If Starsky thought Terry would be embarrassed by this remark, he was mistaken; she laughed delightedly. "Yes, we told him that our good friend, the Cross Walk Guard, wouldn't like it if Dave didn't buy me dinner."
Hutch smiled at her. "You must really love your job, going out with a dirtball like this--"
"Hey!"
"A free meal's a free meal," Terry deadpanned.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Hutch said suddenly to Starsky, "what was in that package?"
Starsky tried to look innocent. "What package?"
"'What package?' The package your mother sent you. The Christmas package."
"It's not Christmas yet," Starsky replied, as though that was an answer.
"You told Huggy you opened it."
"And he ratted to you. I s'pose the two of you called Ma and told her."
"Nobody told your mother anything. But what was in the package?"
"The package is still under the tree," Starsky insisted.
"But open?" Terry asked.
"Hey, whose side are you on?" Starsky paused for a moment, then admitted, "All right, if you must know, it's a menorah -- my great-aunt Elizabeth's to be exact. And Ma said she wanted me to have it. It's not really a Christmas present."
"You have a menorah under your Christmas tree?" Terry asked puzzled.
"I'd been meaning to ask you about that," Hutch agreed, also sounding confused. "Does your mother know about the tree?"
"Of course she does," Starsky answered, exasperated. "She's got one, too." They were both looking at him, waiting for some kind of explanation, so finally Starsky said, "My pop liked Christmas trees, and we always had one. Used to drive my mother crazy -- she kept saying she wouldn't have one in her house, but every year Pop would bring home this tiny, scraggly little half-dead tree, and Ma would get pissed and send Nick -- my brother," he elaborated for Terry,"-- and me to bed and Pop would tell her some silly story about it was the runt of the litter, and that the guy who owned the lot was gonna break it up and use it for kindling, but he bought it and saved its life... One year he said it followed him home, and please could he keep it? And Ma would laugh and get Nick and me back up again and we'd decorate it -- cut out stuff from aluminum foil, or make paper chains with names on 'em. It was great." Starsky squeezed Terry's shoulders. "What about you? D'you have a tree every year?"
"We had a big plastic tree. It was the most modern thing around, and it certainly wasn't perfect, but every year, the day after Thanksgiving, my dad would get it down from the attic and put it together and my cousins and brothers and I would decorate it. And Daddy and my uncles would put lights all over the windows and the trees and bushes. We had one of the brightest houses in the neighborhood. Then we'd go over to all my uncles' and aunts' houses and help decorate their trees and houses. We always spent Thanksgiving weekend that way."
Terry and Starsky sat looking at Hutch expectantly, and finally he sighed and said, "My uncle used to bring us a tree from his farm." His voice became soft and dreamy. Terry glanced at Starsky, and the look on his face captured her attention; he was watching Hutch with an expression of overwhelming affection and tenderness. "We decorated the tree on Christmas eve, with all the old ornaments that had belonged to my grandparents, and their grandparents... and the Christmases were always white..." After a moment he came back to the present. "You have a menorah under your Christmas tree?"
"What's wrong with that? Do you even know where Christmas trees come from?"
"The woods?" Terry ventured. Both men laughed, and she felt unaccountably pleased.
"It's a Druid thing," Starsky continued seriously. To Terry he sounded like one of her kids, proudly displaying a tidbit of knowledge no one else had.
"A Druid thing?" Hutch asked skeptically.
"The druids worshipped trees."
Fortunately the pizza arrived at that moment -- an extra-large, everything-but-anchovies, double-cheese monstrosity. Starsky watched the leggy blonde waitress walk away, appreciation of her short uniform written all over his face. Then he grinned at Terry and hugged her shoulders again.
"Well, do I tell Christine that the Monopoly game is off?" Hutch asked.
Starsky shrugged. "You like Monopoly, Ter?"
This was definitely the most unusual first date she's ever been on -- the most relaxed, the most comfortable, and one of the most fun. If he didn't turn out to be too good to be true, Terry was afraid she was going to fall in love with David Starsky... "I love Monopoly."
Starsky lit up. "Terrific. You'll love Christine, too. Personally, I can't see what she sees in this big blond lox, but other than that she seems pretty on the ball."
Hutch gave him a look. "She said she'd pick up a six-pack on the way to your place."
"Terrific," Starsky repeated.
~~~
Hutch watched Starsky watch Terry make her way to the ladies' room. He's crazy about her, that's why he brought her here first thing. The casual flings he makes a game of -- "no, you can't meet her, you wouldn't like her, you'd like her too much..." But I met Helen ten minutes after Starsk did; the special ones he brings me immediately; Why? Hutch wondered. To get my approval? To see how we'll get along?
A coin flashed in front of Hutch's face and landed on the table in front of him. Starsky grinned. "Well, there's your penny; what's your thoughts?"
"I was just imagining what it would have been like if I'd brought Ms. Collins along for pizza."
Starsky laughed. "Sorry you didn't think of it sooner."
"Maybe next Christmas."
~~~
Terry did like Christine; she was bright and funny and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy Starsky and Hutch's constant bickering (particularly over Monopoly). Close to ten there was a call from Captain Dobey telling them they'd be needed on stake-out duty the following night. During the ensuing whooping and yelling, Christine leaned over to Terry and murmured, "The way they're carrying on, you'd think they'd just been released from Devil's Island."
"And Dave told me he really enjoyed giving safety talks."
"Oh, he does, they both do. It's just that nothing compares to sitting in a cold car, watching a house where nothing's happening. Nothing's as good as being one of the good guys, out on their white chargers, saving the world."
Terry found herself giggling uncontrollably.
~~~
Just after midnight Christine and Hutch took their leave.
"You want another cup of coffee?" Starsky asked Terry.
"I--" A huge yawn stopped her reply.
Starsky chuckled. "Maybe just a ride home."
A ride home? When was the last time I had a first date with a man who didn't expect sex by way of introduction? So what's going on here? I finally meet a guy I really like, a truly sexy man, one I have real chemical reaction to, and he wants to give me a ride home?
Starsky stood up, stretched, and held out his hand to Terry to help her up from the floor. "You look beat. Got all your Christmas shopping done?"
"It's a little late to shop now," Terry replied.
She got to her feet and he put his arms around her. "Did I mention you're beautiful?"
"No, I don't think you did," Terry answered lightly. "Were you going to?"
"I think so. Later, when we've known each other longer. Maybe on our first date."
"Our first date? What's this, then?"
"This? This is just me giving you a ride home."
"A ride home? By way of the pizza parlor and your place?'
"Uh-huh. This is the long way."
"I see. Well, when do you think this first date might be?"
"Well, I have a stake-out tomorrow night, and if we don't catch 'em, the next night, too..."
"I understand. A cowboy's work is never done. Call me when you can."
She could see that this wasn't the response he'd been expecting, but he seemed to like it. "I'll call you when we get off this stake-out--"
Terry kissed him on the tip of the nose. "You do that. I'll give you my number."
~~~
"I liked her," Christine said decisively on the ride to her apartment. "What about you?"
Hutch nodded. "I'd say she seems like Starsky's type, when he's seriously looking. And she seems like she could keep him in line."
"Yeah, like you really believe he needs anybody but you to keep him in line." Christine was perfectly aware of Hutch's persistent attachment to his partner, and how his fondness for her stood up in comparison. She didn't have it all worked out yet, but she was having a fine time appraising it.
"I could always use some help."
"And I could use some company; sometimes the two of you are like a comedy act."
Hutch stopped the car in front of Christine's apartment building, leaned over and kissed her.
"And, of course, sometimes you're not," Christine admitted. "Are you staying the night?"
"I'd like to, but this could be my last chance at a good night's sleep in a while."
"Could be your last chance with me in a while," Christine countered with a smile.
Hutch looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "You're very tempting."
"I know, I know, but duty comes first. I suppose that's what makes you so appealing." She let him walk her to her door, and after a few lingering goodnight kisses, went inside alone.
~~~
"Were you asleep?" Hutch's voice seemed terribly intimate in the dark, even over the phone.
"Nope. You alone?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah." After a moment, Starsky asked hesitantly, "You like her?"
"Yeah, I do," Hutch admitted.
"She could be the one, babe."
"I got that feeling."
"You want me to pick you up tomorrow?"
"A stake-out in that neon coke can? Why don't we just wear great big signs that say, 'Hi there, we're cops'?"
"Did you ever get new shocks for the squash? 'Cause I'm not--"
"Yeah, I got them. I told you that. So I'll drive."
"All right," Starsky relented.
Somehow they were both reluctant to hang up; they listened to each other's breathing for a while. Finally, Hutch said, "Pick you up about four-thirty?"
"Yeah. See you then."