CHAPTER 8b
"Regarding your positions with the police department," she said, "I'd recommend you turn down your Captain's offer. I think Detective Starsky is right, that they have no intention of allowing you to work together again. I think I can pressure them with the threat of a lawsuit based on discrimination. More importantly, I think you two have been targeted because of your performance records. Clearly, someone's trying to get you out of the way. But that'll be harder to prove. If we could uncover any implication of other police officers in the plot against you it would help. Are the two of you investigating the incident?"
The incident, Starsky thought, wanting to laugh out loud. "Uh, yeah, we're workin' on it."
"If you agree to work with me on this, I'll need to be kept informed of any progress you make. And I'll keep you up-to-date on anything I find out. But if I take the case, I'll want to push for damages. Big ones."
"Is that necessary?" Hutch asked. "The police department didn't do this to us, James Marshall Gunther did."
She nodded. "You're probably right about that, but neither the police department nor the city were willing to stand behind you regardless of all the times you've sacrificed yourselves for them. They should have."
Starsky had a vivid flash of his locker with dripping red letters reading COCKSUCKER and his anger flared anew. He looked at Hutch, who only seemed more distressed.
"Look," she said softly, the charm back in her voice, "you two probably need to discuss this together. I've got to visit the little girl's room. Maybe you can decide something while I'm in there." She slid around the circular booth and walked away from them.
Starsky was so confused, he never even bothered to admire her rear.
"What do you think?" Hutch murmured to him. He sounded anxious.
Starsky looked at his partner, realizing, distractedly, that Hutch had never responded to Callahan as a woman. Not once. That bothered him. A lot. "I'm thinking that we're having lunch with the only lady in L.A. who'll give us half a chance to be men in her presence and you haven't even noticed."
Hutch sat back in his chair, stunned. "That really is all you ever think about! Starsk! Get your mind back on business! Should we let her represent us? Come on. You had to have been here for at least part of the conversation. What do you think we should do?"
Starsky exhaled. "I think we should sic her on the city. I think we should sue them till their balls ache. I think she's got the greenest eyes I've ever seen, and I think you should ask her out."
"You really think we should hit them with a big lawsuit? I've got some reservations about that Wait...! What did you just say?"
"Ask her out, Hutch," Starsky murmured huskily. "I mean it. It's important. To me. I want you to do it."
Hutch just blinked. "Was there something wrong with the tuna? Do you have ptomaine or are you just losing your mind? We're about to enter a professional relationship with this lawyer. The last thing I should do is "
"You've been out with lotsa lady cops and lawyers who were workin' on cases with us before. This ain't no different. Ask her out, Hutch."
The blond's face turned grim. "Don't do this to me. Don't try to `cure' me. I resent it. And for your information, the lady isn't interested in me. She's only got eyes for you. If you're so interested in her, you ask her out. She'll turn me down."
Starsky had to hold back a smile. "Five bucks says you're wrong. Ask her out. She'll go. And you'll owe me five."
Hutch shook his head. "You're wrong this time. She won't bite."
But Starsky could see the competitive glint in Hutch's eye when Starsky challenged him. Just one more push.... "You're probably right. I always did have better luck with women than you." He gave a casual shrug. "I don't blame you for giving up so quick. You still owe me ten from that last bet over"
Hutch, glowering, jabbed him too hard to let him know the lawyer was on her way back.
Callahan struggled to get back behind the table, and started assembling her things, stuffing them all into a valise-like briefcase. "Did you decide anything, or do you need more time?"
"No, we're okay with it," Starsky said, before Hutch could answer. "But we do need to know something. If we go for the lawsuit how will we pay for it? We're both suspended right now without pay."
"That's one of the reasons we press for damages. I'm paid on a contingency. Sort of a money back guarantee. We win, I take five percent. We lose, you owe nothing."
"Hard to beat a deal like that, huh, Hutch?" He smiled pleasantly at his partner.
The pale blue eyes were like ice crystals boring into him. "Uh yeah. Thatthat's great."
"Well, now that we've agreed on that, would you do me a favor?" Starsky asked Callahan, with all the charm he could muster.
She gave him one of those amused half-smiles and muttered, "That depends."
"Get Stavros to bring me a piece of lemon meringue pie while I hit the john, huh? I'll be right back."
On his way out, he poked Hutch, but the man's spine was already ramrod straight. Do it, partner. It's for your own good.
~~~
What's with these two? Callahan thought as she watched Starsky walk away from them. No, not walk prowl. Stalk. She stared, mesmerized by the smooth action of the man's incredible rear end. She swallowed. Nope, not just a pretty face. Kelly Rose, don't even think about it his blond might slit your throat.
She had no trouble snagging Stavros' attention. His eyes hadn't left their table since the detectives had sat down, his disapproval fierce. He was a good friend, and would respect her choice of clients, she knew, but the fact that these two were cops -- cops who'd been accused (rightly, he believed) of being homosexual went against his every cultural belief. Nevertheless, she got him to bring Starsky a piece of pie, and then finally forced her attention back to the remaining partner.
He smiled at her gamely, even though he clearly felt awkward. His eyes were so somber. She'd seen that look on other faces they were eyes that had clearly seen too much.
Finally, he asked, "Ms. Callahan do you really think you can make the city take us back into our old positions in spite of...everything?"
They can't even put words to what's happened to them, she realized sadly. She'd worked with dozens of gay couples, men and women, over civil rights issues, but she'd never seen two people who were so clearly a couple act so uncomfortable about it. Could it be true? she wondered. Could they be straight? Was it only the drug? The whole thing seemed so preposterous.
"In all honesty, Detective Hutchinson, if I hadn't won that big judgement recently, we wouldn't have nearly as much bargaining power. But I'd still take up the fight. What they're doing to you is wrong." Whether you're gay or straight, it's wrong. Do you believe that?
He wet his mouth nervously. "I'm not used to lawyers dealing with issues of right and wrong. I'm used to hearing them talk about `win or lose.'"
She nodded. Yes, that is what they'd be used to. How many good arrests of theirs had been dropped because a politically motivated District Attorney's office wouldn't take on cases that might be lost in court? "Well, if I only dealt with win or lose, I'd be unemployed, Detective." Not that my employment is all that profitable, but it's a living.
"Call me `Hutch?'" he said suddenly. "It feels weird hearing us called by our official titles in a diner. We rarely stand on formalities, especially...with people we like." With that charming awkwardness he'd been exhibiting all afternoon, he stammered, "That is, unless you rather not "
"No, that's fine. If you want you can call me oh, pick one. A lot of my " she almost said "gay friends" and caught herself in time. The jury was still out on that. "A lot of my friends call me `Callahan.' Or, you can call me `K.R.' or even `Kelly' or `Rose' or `Kelly Rose.' I'm easy to get along with."
"Oh, yeah? That's not what we were told." He smiled, and this time it was genuine, and lit up his strikingly handsome face. "But then you can't believe everything you hear, can you, Kelly?"
She smiled back, suddenly liking him. She realized with a little embarrassment that she'd paid almost no attention to him while his partner was present. "Or what you read, Detec Hutch. Peter says you and your partner aren't lovers. Is he right?" She flinched at his shocked expression. Damn her mouth. She hated it when it lived a life of its own. It had proven disastrous in court more than once. "I'm sorry, Hutch. We were doing so well, too."
"Don't apologize!" he said quickly, leaning towards her. "It's kind of nice for a change for someone to come right out and ask instead of skulking around staring. You're our lawyer. You should feel like you can ask us anything. No. Starsky and I we I mean.... No. We're not lovers."
But you're something. Don't have a term for it? Don't know what to call it? Or maybe the word `lovers' is just too scary? She was surprised to find she didn't want to know just now. "Okay. I'll take your word for it. As far as the case is concerned, it wouldn't make any difference to me."
"But personally ?" Hutch asked.
Personally, it would mean I would try harder not to make a fool of myself over your adorable partner. She grinned. "I don't get to spend too much time in the company of straight men. It's nice. I've missed it."
He raised his eyebrows as if that hadn't occurred to him. "Uh, well, in that case would you, I mean, I hope you wouldn't be offended but " he stopped, collected his wits, then said in a rush. "I'd like to take you to dinner. Are you interested?"
The request took her totally by surprise. Through this entire lunch I've been nothing but a lawyer to you only your partner saw me as a woman. Where did this come from?
Then another, wiser voice said, Don't look a gift man in the mouth, girl. He says he's straight. He's gorgeous. He's intelligent. And he's not a criminal. He's asking you out. You can't even remember when you had your last date. Just say yes.
"Well sure!" she muttered.
He nodded, and she found herself wondering why neither of them looked that pleased about it. He glanced around nervously, as if expecting to be surprised by his partner at any minute. "Later tonight? Maybe eight?"
She scrambled for her calendar which was peeking out from under the newspapers. No late meetings. Great. "Yeah, eight would be fine. How should I dress?"
That smile again, taking the pain, the worry from his face. He really was beautiful. "What would you prefer?"
Oh, shit! What's clean? Probably just jeans and a sweatshirt. God help me! "Casual?" she asked hopefully.
He nodded, "Fine. That's fine. Okay, if I, uh, could have your address ?"
"Oh yeah." She rummaged for a card, wrote it on the back. They were both acting as if they were so out of practice they couldn't remember the simplest social amenities attached to this arcane act. As she handed him the card, she spied his partner gliding back toward them. Without consciously meaning to, her eyes roamed his body, then jerked guiltily back to the man she'd just agreed to go out with. The two of them what a wealth of riches. Well, when it rains !
"Now, that's a piece of pie!" Starsky announced as he joined them and eyed the mountainous meringue in front of him.
"You never ate your salad," Hutch said, disapprovingly.
"Sorry, Mom, I wasn't in the mood," Starsky said, without losing a bit of his good humor. He tackled the pie with a shameless pleasure. "You gotta excuse Hutch. Every since I got shot and nearly died, he thinks God appointed him my personal keeper."
"You didn't just nearly die, you did die. And God knows you need a keeper," the blond muttered.
Starsky was unfazed. "I keep hopin' he'll find a nice lady and settled down sometime so he can drive her and his kids crazy for the next eight or ten years an' lose interest in nursemaidin' me."
"So you can croak in four of coronary heart disease," Hutch interjected.
Kelly felt something twist inside her as she watched them quibble back and forth then eyed Starsky warily. Don't tell me this date was your idea! No. Her feminine ego wasn't very sturdy but she wouldn't let herself believe that. She had a sudden feeling that these two were going to be more trouble than she anticipated. Peter warned you, didn't he?
"Listen, before I forget," she interjected, as she finished packing her bag, "Peter said that they're expecting you at the Green Parrot after lunch. Something about an interview and a fitting."
Starsky's mercurial mood swing altered again as he suddenly glared at Hutch who just shrugged.
"You will be working there, won't you?" she asked. Peter had made it sound like a done deal.
"We're still discussing it," Starsky grumbled.
"We've got to have some income," Hutch reminded him quietly.
Starsky turned to him. "A fitting? What's that about? If you think I'm wearin' "
Starsky suddenly jumped and Callahan realized Hutch had kicked him hard under the table. Embarrassed, they both turned to her and smiled, but Starsky's was clearly plastered in place.
She put on her best lawyer's face, not knowing whether to be amused or worried. Are you both homophobes, or just you, Detective Starsky? She felt a stab of regret and was suddenly glad it was Hutchinson who'd asked her out.
Suddenly Stavros appeared. "Ms Callahan, we're having a problem out front."
She glanced at her watch. Well, it was time. Late, in fact. She wondered what had kept them. "We'll be leaving in a moment." Stavros went toward the front of the restaurant. She finished assembling all her things and snapped her case shut.
"What's the matter, Kelly?" Hutch asked quietly, instantly on alert. Starsky poised with the last piece of pie in mid-air, and turned to his partner.
"Look outside, toward the front of the diner," she told them.
The two men stood and peeked through the blinds. When they sat down again, they'd both turned pale.
"There's gotta be twenty reporters out there," Starsky said somberly. The pie was forgotten.
"We can slip out through the kitchen," Hutch told him, touching his arm.
Ready to protect him from anything, aren't you? she thought, wondering again about them. "You're not going out the back," she said. "You're going out the front. With me."
They both stared at her aghast.
"Did you call them?" Starsky asked in a low deadly tone that made her very grateful she had not.
"No. I didn't have to. The ones out there figured out I was the only lawyer in town who would be willing to take on this case. They've been following me ever since the news broke. I knew they'd find us here."
"And you just let it happen?" Starsky asked angrily.
She didn't like to see those compelling indigo eyes unhappy with her but it couldn't be helped. "Did you think you'd never have to face them?"
"It was one of our top five wishes," Hutch said blandly, glancing out the window.
"Better here than at your homes," she reminded them, which
brought them up short. "Throw them a bone and they'll be happy
for awhile. Make them chase you for it and we'll all regret it." She
stood up. "Come on, let's get it over with."
"What the hell are we supposed to say to them?" Starsky hissed. "You didn't tell us that if you represented us you'd be turning this into a three ring circus!"
"Starsk!" Hutch said warningly, grabbing his elbow. Starsky shrugged off his grip.
She had to fight back her own anger as she felt blood rushing to her face. Starsky's hostility was definitely getting her Irish up.
"You were part of a circus before I ever met you," she reminded him. "It's a circus you built yourselves, with your flamboyant street theater, and your outrageous behavior before someone slipped some funny stuff in your lemonade. You didn't mind being on the trapeze then, as long as you had control of the act. Now that someone else is the ringmaster, you want no part of it. Well, it's too late for that. So, pull up your tights, sweetheart, the calliope's playing!"
His jaw opened slightly as she read him the riot act. Like a lot of people a lot of men, she amended he'd underestimated the little Irish colleen. She felt some regret, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she couldn't handle him if he wouldn't allow it they may as well know it now and drop the whole thing.
"Now wait a minute, Miss Callahan," he said, still angry.
"That's Miz Callahan," she announced, jabbing a finger in his chest. Nice, one part of her brain registered. Solid. "You don't like being defined by a sexual preference? Well, I don't appreciate being defined by my marital status. Try and remember that and we'll get along better, Detective Starsky. Now, either follow me outside and follow my lead with the press, or let's end our arrangement now."
Starsky shut his mouth with a scowl and turned to his partner, as if to say, Will you do something with her?
Hutchinson only asked quietly, "What do you want us to do?"
"The only thing I will ever ask you to do be honest. Keep your
cool." She glared at Starsky. "And always remember that
we are in the right. Let me take the lead, but if I signal you to answer,
do so, honestly. Don't prevaricate. Be straightforward. You're both cops.
Act like professionals. Okay?"
A beat. Two sets of blue eyes conferring. Hutchinson nodded. "Okay."
"Sure," Starsky added grudgingly.
"Fine," she said, her voice softening. "We're a team, gentlemen. Let's be sure of that if nothing else."
The two men exchanged looks again, then nodded at her. She could feel Starsky's temper cooling. His eyes were fixed on her again and she nearly squirmed under his direct gaze. Don't do it, Callahan! She stared back at him, gave him a short nod, then led the way out.
Ain't no mercy on the streets of this town
Ain't no bread from heavenly skies
Ain't nobody drawin' wine from this blood
It's just you and me tonight
Bruce Springsteen
-- Human Touch
