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MIND IF I JOIN YA? -- SCENE TWO

The man on the shore seemed immobile, the wind off the ocean fluttering his blond hair and the pinwheel in his hands. His attention seemed to be totally riveted on the small object.

Starsky advanced silently across the sand, cutting the distance between himself and his partner. Partner...hang on to that word.... The movie plan had lost its attraction almost as soon as he had voiced it. Hutch had shown no interest in it and a movie was no fun by yourself. Not that anything had been fun recently. The shine had worn off everything. He didn't want to try to trace that feeling back to its origins. He guessed their roots were deep. Some time, maybe. Not now.

What had happened to Lionel Rigger had produced a catalyst effect; that much, at least, was clear. They'd been over it more than once. What point was there in apportioning individual blame, confronted by the over-riding demands of the system? "We don't make promises," they had warned Rigger at that first meeting. The memory didn't help, overshadowed as it was by Huggy's bitter reproaches, reinforcing the sense of personal guilt.

Starsky drew nearer to where Hutch stood, head bowed, concentrating still on the whirring color in his hands. Starsky recalled the trial hearing, the moment when reality decisively dispelled any lingering optimism that the case might go the way they had imagined. By that time, it had probably already been unnecessary to name an informant Maclellan's people would have been making their own educated guesses.

The brilliant sun on the bright waves made an incongruous setting for Starsky's thoughts. He'd watched Hutch pull out of the precinct parking lot and had been immediately conscious of the strangely urgent need not to let his partner drive away. The movie rejected, forgotten. The priority now was the need to talk.

At Venice he'd found the apartment deserted but the car was parked outside. He discarded the notion that Hutch might have opted for exercise around the block. So -- where? Beach --? He crossed the street and took off at a run, slowing down when, eventually, he saw his quarry at the ocean's edge. Slowly he made his way across the sand, watched as Hutch fixed the little pinwheel at his feet and, hands now free, reached into a pocket.

Starsky came closer until only a few feet separated them and Hutch raised his head at last. There was no surprise in the gaze which met Starsky's own.

"Changed my mind," was all he said in response to Hutch's "thought you were going to the movies." Mere, irrelevant conversation.

Starsky's glance went from Hutch's face to the badge in his partner's hand. Hutch watched wordlessly as Starsky produced its replica. The silence stretched between them like the years of partnership -- and more -- which the badges represented.

"Pollution..." was that the term for what the shining metal now meant?

Starsky sighed. The mixture of emotions didn't fit into any words right now. What did fit was the priority of staying together in this. Like always. Me and thee....

He was aware of Hutch at his side, waiting, watching him, concentrating on him.

"Mind if I join ya?" he asked.

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