"Yeah?" Hutch murmured softly, hopefully.

   They were locked in place, each afraid to move, afraid to break the tableau, terrified of what would happen when they did.

   "I made you breakfast," Starsky said after a long pause. He indicated the plates on the counter. "Was gonna bring it to you in bed."

   "Really?"

   "Yeah," Starsky admitted. "You know. Thought it would be nice to do something kinda special for you. I didn't want you to think I didn't appreciate you all you did for me last night."

   Suddenly, Hutch's heart was pounding. "I think my towel's having the same problem yours is."

   "Yeah, I can see that," Starsky murmured, as he glanced over at his friend's groin which had become more prominent. "So, wha'd'ya say? Wanna have breakfast in bed?"

   "Detective Starsky," Hutch asked breathlessly, "are you propositioning me?"

   "I I don't really know," he admitted, looking adorably baffled. "I didn't let myself think much beyond the food."

   Hutch leaned closer, and Starsky held his ground. Suppressing an irresistible urge to kiss his friend, he touched his forehead to the curly head. "So what's for breakfast, anyway?"

   "You mean, on the plates?" Starsky said distractedly. Hutch nodded, grinning. "Sliced apples, oranges and grapes, with some wheat germ sprinkled over `em the way you like it and whole wheat toast with a little cream cheese and some of that good lox we found at the new deli. Coffee. And the Starsky soy milk special, of course."

   "Of course," Hutch muttered. "Breakfast in bed sounds great. Let's go."

   Starsky swallowed audibly, and handed Hutch his plate and the two glasses while he took his plate and the two cups. They were just about to move toward the bedroom when a loud banging at the door startled them both so badly, they nearly dropped everything, juggling the food and beverages frantically to keep them from landing on the floor.

   "What the hell ?" Hutch swore. "Who is it?" he called out irritably.

   "This place is turning into Grand Central Station!" Starsky muttered.

   "It's Captain Dobey!" the familiar gruff voice called. "Any chance someone might let me in?"

   "Oh, christ, Hutch!" Starsky yelped. "I can't go to the door in my underwear with a hard-on that can be seen for a mile. You get it!"

   "In a bath towel with a boner?" Hutch hissed at him. "You must be nuts!" He called out to the front door, "One minute, Captain!"

   The two cops dropped plates, cups, and glasses onto the counter with a huge clatter and raced into the bedroom, bumping into each other two or three times as they scrambled around guiltily, looking for their clothes.

   Dobey banged on the door again, evidently unsure whether anyone had heard him the first time. Hutch managed to get himself stuffed into a decent pair of brown cords, and arranged so that he wasn't quite so conspicuous while Starsky scrambled around looking for a long-tailed shirt that might cover his obvious condition.

   "You'd think that considering my total panic, it would go away by itself," Starsky muttered, furious, "but, no!"

   "Is anyone home?" Dobey bellowed as Hutch skidded to a halt before the door, face flushed, hair tousled, shirtless and shoeless, wearing an expression of total guilt. He opened the door and mustered a smile.

   "Well, hi, Cap'n," he said mildly.

   "What the hell's goin' on in here?" Dobey demanded as Starsky jogged out to greet him. He was still buttoning his shirt and nearly collided with Hutch in his haste to get into the kitchen. "It sounded like you two were running around like the Vice squad just showed up. Should I check the toilet for evidence?"

   "Cute, Cap," Starsky muttered, tugging on the hem of his shirt self-consciously.

   "Don't tell me you both just rolled out of bed?" Dobey asked them bluntly.

   "Well, as a matter of fact, Captain," Hutch admitted, "we did."

   "At eleven o'clock in the morning?" Dobey seemed shocked.

   "It's not like we had to be somewhere this morning," Starsky reminded him pointedly. "`Sides, we, uh we had a late night."

   Starsky's choice of words brought silence to the group as all three men shuffled in embarrassment and looked around the room to avoid each other's eyes.

   Glancing at the plates on the counter, Dobey finally muttered. "What's this? Breakfast?"

   "Brunch," Hutch corrected. "Have a seat, Captain. Something to eat? Coffee?"

   "Soy milk shake?" Starsky offered sarcastically.

   Dobey eased his bulk into a chair. "You can keep the soy milk, but that platter doesn't look half bad."

   Starsky ushered Hutch into the opposite seat, and set a plate before him, and the other before his boss. Turning back to the counter, he started cutting up more fruit and making more toast.

   "That Aretha on the radio?" Dobey asked around an apple slice. "That woman sure can sing."

   She was belting out "Chain of Fools" at the moment, and Hutch found he couldn't look at Starsky now and keep his composure.

   "It's real nice to have you visit, Captain," Hutch said quietly as he downed his shake, "but I doubt if you just wandered over here because you had nothing to do. Got something for us?"

   Dobey met his eyes as he drank coffee, and Hutch realized for the first time how tired the man looked. "Yeah, I've got a few things."

   "Phone don't work in your office any more, Cap?" Starsky said softly, as he spread cream cheese on his toast.

   Dobey didn't respond right away, then finally admitted, "I didn't want to do this over the phone."

   He finished the coffee, and Starsky turned at just the right time and refilled the cup. The indigo eyes caught Hutch's gaze and there was a wealth of information in that look. They might as well have been back on the street working an informant. Hutch could almost hear Starsky saying, It's who-do-you-trust-time, partner. Only this man was their Captain, normally the only other person, with the exception of Huggy, who might be included in their narrow trust parameters. Clearly, Starsky didn't feel that way now.

   "So, what's the bad news?" Hutch asked bluntly as Starsky finally came to sit at the table with them.

   Dobey speared an apple slice too hard and said, "Blood results are in. You were right, Hutch. There was a narcotic base to the drug. I'll spare you the convoluted recipe it was a chemical cocktail designed to enhance sexual desire and reduce judgment and inhibitions. The effect is cumulative, and there was enough residue left to tell us that you'd both been given very high doses. Fortunately, there should be no permanent physical damage or lasting effect."

   Starsky snorted around his toast. "No lasting effect?"

   Hutch glared him into silence.

   "At any rate," Dobey continued, "I've been in meetings with the DA, the mayor, and the head of the union. I've been authorized to make you an offer."

   The two cops glanced at one another; Hutch had a feeling neither of them were going to like what they were about to hear.

   "You can both come back to work," Dobey said solemnly, staring at his plate.

   "If ?" Starsky prodded.

   "You're willing to take assignments in other departments," the big man muttered. "Hutchinson can go to the crime lab, and there's a place for you, Starsky, in Records."

   There was a moment's pause as the two detectives digested the news. But finally Starsky put his finger on the problem. "They're splittin' us up, Hutch. They're never gonna let us back on the street together again."

   "Take it easy," Hutch murmured, even as his own stomach clenched.

   "Now, look," Dobey said to them, finally meeting their eyes, "I was promised that this would just be a temporary measure until things died down. The mayor knows I can't afford to lose two detectives of your caliber for long. He's promised me that you'll both be back under my supervision "

   "But not as partners," Starsky insisted, his voice low, angry. "You'll bring us back at two different times, team us up with other cops till we get used to it. Ain't that right, Cap? And you agreed to it!" He started to rise from the chair, his eyes taking on that flat, narrow look that often presaged a complete explosion.

   Hutch grabbed his friend's wrist, squeezing hard to distract him. "Starsk! Wait a minute."

   The darker man relaxed back into his chair, but his body was still tense. "Wait for what, Hutch? To cool my jets for six months pushing paper while cops like Russo are out there every day, taking kick-backs and busting little guys for nothin'?"

   "Starsky," Dobey said mournfully, "you've got to believe I fought for you men. This was the best deal I could get, and we negotiated for hours to get that."

   "Why should you have to negotiate?" Starsky argued. "We were drugged. You've got the proof of it. Why should we be punished for doing something we'd'a never done if we hadn't been drugged?"

   To his credit, Starsky must have realized the effect those words had to have on Hutch and turned an apologetic gaze on him instantly. In spite of the ego blow he felt from the statement, Hutch managed to shake his head, signaling Starsky not to worry about that now. He even managed to deny to himself the hurt the words caused him.

   Dobey leaned over the table toward Starsky, as if he could prove his sincerity by moving closer to the man. "There are bigger issues involved in this situation, Dave. Much bigger issues."

   Both cops started at their captain's use of Starsky's first name. The only other time he'd done that was when Starsky was dying from Bellamy's poison.

   "The main reason the mayor agreed to ease up on your suspension," Dobey continued, "is because of the huge stink Gunther's lawyers are raising."

   "What?" Hutch muttered, baffled.

   "They've already got a couple of senators and congressmen calling for a grand jury investigation of the work you both did in bringing down Gunther's empire. The lawyers are questioning your, uh, well " Dobey couldn't make himself say it.

   "They're questioning our integrity as cops?" Starsky asked, incredulous.

   "Essentially," Dobey muttered, embarrassed. "Gunther's lawyers are even fighting to have him released until the grand jury convenes and examines all the evidence."

   "They're gonna let him out?" Starsky exploded, coming out of the seat so fast, he knocked the chair over. "What does that bastard have to do to us to stay behind bars? Draw and quarter us in a public square? Or would that be okay now that we had the bad judgement to love each other one night?"

   Starsky's whole body was coiled in rage, both fists clenched tight, and Hutch was suddenly afraid his friend would lose it completely and take a swing at their captain. The blond stood, placed both hands on his partner's tight shoulders. "Starsky, please. It's it's not the captain's fault."

   That took some of the fire out of Starsky's anger and he sagged under Hutch's palms.

   "Thanks, Hutch," Dobey muttered, looking aged. "That's why I didn't call. I couldn't say something like that over the phone. I'm just sick about this. Of course, there's no guarantee they'll let Gunther out. He's been convicted of killing his assistant, Bates, so there's a good possibility they'd keep him in because of that alone. We can at least hope...."

   "As long as he's got lawyers," Starsky grumbled, "we'll have to sweat it."

   "If you were back on the force," Dobey reminded them, "you'd be in a better position to testify against him "

   "We shouldn't have to improve our positions," Starsky insisted, pulling away from Hutch and pacing around the room. "The work we did to bring Gunther down was solid, some of the best investigative work the department had ever seen. The DA told us that himself. It's all there, in front of them. And nothing we've ever done in our private lives can change that."

   "Unless the people judging that evidence want to be influenced by it," Hutch said softly. Starsky stared at him, eyes wide and hurting. "You said it yourself, Starsk. It's the way the world works."

   "Hutch," Starsky said plaintively, "if we let them split us up, it'll make us even more vulnerable to Gunther. Anything could happen."

   Hutch smiled grimly. His mind was working the problem, trying to be fair, trying to see all the angles, all the advantages, the disadvantages. "I don't want to work without you either, but "

   Before he could continue his thought, the phone rang. He held up a hand to hold the conversation in place, and went to pick it up. "Hello?"

   "Detective Hutchinson?" a woman's voice asked.

   "Yes, that's right," Hutch agreed.

   "I'm sorry to call you at the last minute," the woman apologized, "but I was tied up in court this morning longer than I
expected. Peter told me he'd set up a lunch time meeting, and I was afraid you'd think I'd forgotten. Are you still available? I've got you pencilled in for two hours. Is that okay?"

   Hutch blinked, suddenly confused. "And you are ?"

   "Sorry again, Detective," the woman apologized pleasantly. Her voice was soft, friendly, with a pure clear tone that made Hutch think she might be a good singer. "I'm a little harried at the moment. This is K.R. Callahan "

   Hutch's eyes widened, and he looked at Starsky, wishing he could tell him who was on the phone. His partner instantly picked up his surprise, and his dark brow furrowed.

   " and I'm still very interested in your case," the woman continued. "Can we meet for lunch?"

   "Well, I'll tell you," Hutch said quietly, conscious of Dobey's presence. "Our captain's here and he's offered to take us off suspension, if "

   "Don't agree to anything," Callahan said, her voice changing so rapidly it rattled Hutch. All the softness, the femininity was suddenly gone, and in it's place slid a cold intelligence that had cowed men much more powerful than this street cop. "If it's a good deal, we can always agree to it later. Tell him you'll consider it. Then come have lunch with me, you and your partner " she paused as if checking her notes, "Detective Starsky."

   "Well, uh " Hutch felt weird discussing this with her without being able to share this with his partner.

   "It's just lunch, Detective," she assured him, her voice silken again. "Nothing will happen unless you are both in complete agreement. I understand how you might want to accept your captain's offer, but please let me discuss it with you first before you make a commitment you might regret."

   "All right," Hutch agreed. "Were would you like to meet?"

   "There's a Greek diner near the courthouse. It's called the Athens."

   "I know it," Hutch assured her.

   "Twenty minutes?" she asked. "If we can get there before the noon crowd we can get better seating."

   "Sounds good," Hutch said, and they bid goodbye before he hung up the phone. He gave Starsky a familiar look that said let me handle this, then turned to Dobey. "Is there anything else tied in with this offer that we should know about?"

   Dobey glanced at both men. "No. I've presented it as plainly as I know how, Hutch."

   "Okay," the blond said, glancing again at Starsky. Predictably, his partner waited to see what Hutch was up to. "We'll think about it, Captain. We've got a lunch meeting with our lawyer and after we discuss it with "

   "Lawyer?" Dobey said, taken aback.

   Starsky suddenly realized who'd been on the phone and his expression changed subtly.

   "You've retained a lawyer?" Dobey asked.

   "Don't you think we should, Captain?" Starsky asked bluntly.

   "You two know better than anyone how twisted things get once lawyers get involved," Dobey warned. "Bring a lawyer in and something simple can get bollixed up for years. You've both complained about that plenty. Don't you think we can solve this within the department?" He seemed almost hurt.

   "You mean the way the department's handled it already?" Hutch said quietly, allowing some of his own anger and hurt to come out. "By suspending us without pay without even a hearing? By having the same knee-jerk reaction that they had to discovering Johnny Blaine was gay? Bury it. Cover it up. Deny it. Thanks, Captain, but I can't think of two people who need representation more than us. So, you'll have to excuse us. We've got twenty minutes to make a meeting with our lawyer. We'll discuss your offer. Maybe she'll advise us to take it."

   Hutch started towards the bedroom to finish dressing, as Dobey called after him. "Who is this lawyer, Hutch? I hope you're at least using someone respectable."

   "Her name's K.R. Callahan, Captain," Hutch said casually. "Maybe you've heard of her."

   Dobey's mouth opened and he went gray in shock. "K.R. Callahan? You can't be serious. The mayor will have a fit if he hears about this! It could completely destroy the delicate negotiations we've had "

   "We have the same right to legal representation as any other citizen," Starsky insisted coolly. "Whose side you on, Cap? Ours? Or the mayor's?"

   The question completely flustered the big man, but only for a second. He got out of the kitchen chair slowly, and advanced on Starsky. Hutch could see that he was really angry. "I shouldn't have to explain that to you, Starsky. Or do I have to remind you who suppressed the report of your partner's drug addiction while you cleaned him up? How many times have I bent the rules for you two, endangering my own position, my own badge? We've worked together too long for you to ask me a question like that."

   "Point made, Cap," Starsky conceded without backing down. "But this issue's a little different, isn't it? When Johnny Blaine died you nearly caved under the pressure from the mayor's office. The same kinda pressure you're gettin' now."

   Hutch remembered Starsky fighting with Dobey then, refusing to let his captain even consider covering up the circumstances around the gay cop's death.

   Dobey and Starsky were still squared off, eye to eye, daring the other to blink. And finally Dobey did. "You're right, Starsky. This situation is different." Dobey glanced away, admitting, "And maybe I'm having to confront some of my own prejudices."

   Then the captain's back stiffened. "But I'm still a man who's suffered under and fought prejudices all my life. I'm not gonna stop now. Specially when it involves my two best detectives who're also my friends. You're just going to have to trust that I'm on your side in this."

   Starsky nodded. "Okay, Cap. Hutch and I can trust that. But we still gotta meet with our lawyer."

   Dobey conceded with a nod. "Call me when you make a decision. Thanks for breakfast." Wiping his mouth on a napkin, he left the apartment.

   "Think we were too hard on him?" Hutch asked quietly.

   "Maybe," Starsky grumbled irritably, moving to the closet and rummaging for clean clothes. "That's what happens when you drop in without callin' first! He, of all people, oughtta know I'm not known for being so gracious in the morning. Can I borrow this shirt?" Without waiting for an answer, Starsky slipped the red plaid on and started jamming it into his pants. He stopped in the middle and turned to Hutch who was waiting patiently to get into his own closet. "Hey. I'm sorry about breakfast."

   Hutch shrugged and smiled wanly. "It's the thought that counts. This is a lot more important, anyway. And besides tomorrow's another day." Starsky stepped away from the closet so Hutch could retrieve a shirt for himself.

   "Yeah," Starsky agreed, a little subdued, "tomorrow's another day."

   "Cheer up, Starsk," Hutch said, pulling out a pair of boots. "We're meeting Callahan at the Athens."

   As he expected, his partner perked up immediately. "No kiddin'? That's terrific! That place makes the best pies "

   "You haven't even eaten breakfast yet!" Hutch warned, knowing even as he did it would do no good.

   "And the Athens has all that health kinda stuff, too, Hutch. So, we'll have a good breakfast and then pie! I mean, a guy deserves somethin' sweet when he's cheated outta breakfast in bed, don't he?" Starsky was all innocence as he batted his lashes at his partner.

   Hutch had to laugh. "If you say so, Starsk."

They tried to break us,
Looks like they'll try again
Wild boys never lose it
Wild boys never chose this way
       The Wild Boys -- Duran Duran

CHAPTER 8