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Ahhhh, Starsk... where ARE you?
Ken Hutchinson leaned wearily against the frame of the single window in his Captain's office. Tired hands came up to rub his eyes against the migraine that threatened to overwhelm him. Blinking his vision back into focus Hutch stared out into the dark city. It was an amazingly clear night for Los Angeles, so much so that the lights of streets and boulevards had to compete with the natural panorama overhead.
It was nights like this that Hutchinson and his partner would sit out on the blonde's small balcony greenhouse and search out constellations. Starsky had surprised his more educated partner with his knowledge of Greek mythology and astronomy, stemming from his love of the sea and tall ships. The darker partner's father had taught him about clippers, pirates and explorers, leading Starsky to learn about navigating by the stars, a passion that followed him well into adulthood.
Starsky would love a night like this... Hutch thought with a smile that briefly flitted across his tense features. I wonder if you can see the sky tonight, Starsk. I wonder if you're still alive... I wish...
I wish I may, I wish I might...
Hutch searched the skies for Polaris. The star danced it's aching beauty in the evening's canvass. Thousands of years of light leading men home.
Hang in there buddy, I'll find you. I promise.
Resting his weary head against the window pane Hutch prayed that his partner could still see the stars...
Miles away a battered figure raised his head against the pain in his chest, shoulders and arms. His bindings pulled and tore mercilessly against his weary flesh. Dark blue eyes focused through the haze of his pain and took in the clarity of the midnight sky.
The captive detective scanned the sky for Polaris. Without intending to he took comfort in finding a constant in the heavens when his own world dissolved into madness.
David Starsky wondered briefly if his partner could see the stars this night...