December 16th- Between This Breath and the One That Follows Part 5 by brianna441

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Click here for Part 2
Click here for Part 3
Click here for Part 4

It was a comfortable spring day on the streets of L.A. Sunny, with a gentle breeze. Dave sat in his cab along the curb, watching and waiting. He had picked up a number of fares during the day, some from dispatch, some pick-ups from the taxi stands. Then he spent some time just driving around, hoping to pick up random fares.

After following up on Jackson’s suggestion, he’d been driving the cab for about three months now. It wasn’t a bad job, just one he knew he wouldn’t want to do forever. As Jackson had said, the pay wasn’t great but at least he made enough to pay Jake for the room, buy food, and have a bit of fun. And he wasn’t hanging around the bar all day. He’d realized early on that could become a problem.

Not that driving a cab didn’t have its own dangers. During those months there had been two attempts to rob him but those gentlemen soon learned the error of their ways. Now he kept a handgun tucked into the seat beside him, within easy reach.

As he waited, he pulled off his knit cap and rubbed his hands over his head. At least Ma will be happy to know my curls have grown back, he thought with a smile. He put the cap back on then rubbed a finger over his upper lip. She probably wouldn’t like the moustache, though.

Drumming a rat-tat-tat on the steering wheel, he looked around, hoping to spot a fare. One more and he’d call it a day.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire filled the air. Looking through the windshield, Dave saw a man, about two blocks away, running in his direction, followed by two uniformed officers. The sounds of “Stop! Police!” were drowned out by the gunfire as the man turned and shot behind him as he continued to run.

Dave started the car and slowly pulled into traffic, as pedestrians scattered in all directions. Keeping an eye on the runner, he closed in on the fleeing man until, suddenly, he hit the gas and, at full speed, turned sharply, taking the cab up onto the sidewalk, directly in front of the perp.

Dave jumped out of the cab just as the runner hit the front fender, his gun flying out of his hand and hitting the sidewalk. Before he could recover, Dave was on him, practically sitting on his back, pinning him to the car.

“Hold it right there!”

The two uniformed officers came up behind them, both out of breath, with their guns drawn. Dave held up his hands to show he was unarmed as he heard someone else run up.

“What’s going on here?”

This voice was one he recognized. He turned his head just enough to get a look and verified that Lieutenant John Blaine was now on the scene.

“The perp was getting away from us, sir!” one officer said, still holding his gun on Dave and the criminal.

“Then this cabbie here drove up on the sidewalk and almost hit him,” the second officer added.

“One of you get handcuffs on that guy and get him down to Metro.” At John’s command, one officer put away his gun. As he pulled Dave off the runner, John recognized his friend but made no acknowledgement.

“What about the cabbie, sir?” the second officer asked.

“Hold him here until I get back,” John said as he turned and walked back in the direction from which he came.

It was about thirty minutes later that Dave glanced up to see John walking towards him, looking tired and a bit stressed out. The officer with him saw John at the same time and jumped to attention. Dave remained leaning against his cab, now parked back in the street, his head down, arms crossed against his chest, legs crossed at the ankles.

“I detained the cabbie, as ordered, sir!”

Forcing himself to keep his head down, not wanting the officer to see him smiling, Dave wondered if the guy was going to salute.

John also had to restrain a smile at the over-eager officer. “Very good, Officer. Woods, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. Officer Martin Woods.”

“Well, Officer Woods, I want you to head back in. I’ll expect your complete report of this incident on my desk by the end of the day. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Officer Woods replied, as he climbed into a nearby squad car and drove off.

John watched the officer leave then turned to Starsky, who was still leaning against the car. “Now…do you mind telling me what the hell you think you were doing here today?” he asked, a touch of anger in his voice.

“Now, John…”

“Don’t ‘Now, John’ me! Do you have any idea what you put yourself in the middle of? That man was armed! He was firing at anything in his way. He’d just shot my partner, for Christ sake!”

Dave turned serious as he stepped towards his friend. “Your partner? Is he all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine,” John answered, waving off Dave’s concern. “Got clipped in the shoulder. He’ll be back to work in a week.” His anger dissipated as he looked back at Starsky. “Are you still on duty?”

“No. I called my dispatcher while I was waiting. Told him I was ‘assisting’ the police.” Dave shook his head as he chuckled. “He just wanted to be sure you weren’t going to confiscate the cab.”

“No, I won’t. But I do need to get your information for my report.”

“So it’s down to the station?”

“No,” John said. “Taylor’s is just around the corner. Want to grab a beer?”

“Sure.” Dave agreed as he locked up the cab. That accomplished, he stepped closer to John.

John put a hand on Dave’s arm, stopping him. “So…what’s with the…?” He pointed to Dave’s upper lip.

“The moustache?” Dave smiled, running his fingers over the facial hair. “Just thought I’d give it a try. You like it?”

John draped his arm over Starsky’s shoulder as they started walking. “Makes you look like a porn star.”

Dave threw back his head and laughed.

Entering Taylor’s, they walked over and took a place at the bar.

John ordered two beers then turned to Dave. “Okay, kid. Spill it.”

“Funny.” Dave smiled. “That’s how these conversations always seem to start.”

When John remained silent, Dave nodded and began. “It’s simple. I heard the gun shots; I saw the guy running towards me. I saw the officers chasing him. I realized I could stop him. He wouldn’t expect me to come at him from the front.” Dave shrugged his shoulders. “So I cut him off. I saw his gun go flying so I knew he was unarmed. I got out and jumped on him, waiting for the officers to get there.”

The bartender slid the glasses of beer in front of them as Dave turned to meet John’s eyes. “Trust me, John. If I hadn’t seen the gun go flyin’, I would have stayed in the cab. But I knew I wasn’t in danger and I knew I could help.”

John just stared at him for a moment then nodded. Picking up his glass, he raised it to Dave. “You can be a crazy sonofabitch, David, but you’ve got good instincts.”

Picking up his glass, Dave touched it to John’s, smiled and both men took a drink.

“So, how are you doing?” John asked.

“I’m doing okay, John.” Dave shrugged. “Better.”

“Well, you definitely look better than you did the last time I saw you. Except for the moustache, of course.”

Dave chuckled. “Yeah. I got a room over a bar near 4th and Main, Jake’s. He’s a good guy.” Dave looked over at John. “Huggy’s there, too. Him and Jake have a deal. When Jake retires in a few years, Huggy buys the place.”

He watched John’s face as he was talking, seeing the sparkle in his eyes and the hint of a smile. “But you knew all that, didn’t you? You knew about Jake and Huggy…and me.”

John’s smile grew bigger as he placed his glass on the bar. “Yeah, I knew.” He looked back at Dave. “A few years ago, Jake gives me a call. We knew each other on the job. He was a good cop and an even better friend. Anyway, he asked me if I knew anything about this skinny black kid named Huggy. Apparently, he’d mentioned my name in passing. So, I told him that Huggy was a good kid, smart as a whip, and he should give him a chance. I told him Huggy could probably use some help staying on the straight and narrow.”

“Huggy’s too smart to get involved in anything criminal.”

“Yeah, Huggy is smart. But we can all use a little help, sometimes.”

Dave nodded in agreement. He knew that the criminal element was as prevalent in Huggy’s old neighborhood as it was in his back in Brooklyn.

“And me?”

“Well, a couple of months ago, Jake calls me again, wanting to know what I could tell him about a friend of Huggy’s named David Starsky. So I told him the truth.”

“And Jake still let me stay there.” Both men laughed at the shared joke.

“So,” John began, putting his glass down. “Still driving a cab, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You like it?”

“It’s okay.” Dave took another drink then put the glass down as he sighed. “I don’t want to do it forever but it’ll do until I get things figured out.”

“Still searching for your place?”

Dave began playing with the ring of water on the bar. “I don’t know, John. I’ve got somewhere to live, I got a job, friends…but somethin’ is still missin’. It’s getting better but I still don’t feel like I fit, like somehow, I don’t belong.”

John took a sip of his beer. “You know, I remember about ten, twelve years ago, meeting up with this young kid. Full of attitude, all piss and vinegar, you know? Well, this kid, all he would talk about was that he was gonna grow up and be a cop, just like his old man.” John looked over at Dave. “What happened to that dream, David?”

“It was just that, John. A dream.” Dave picked up his glass and drained it, replacing it gently on the bar. When John didn’t say anything, Dave hung his head.

“I looked into it, John. I did. When I first got back, ya know? But, while I was running around in the jungle, trying not to get my ass shot off, the police, they changed the rules. Now they require a college degree, John. And I don’t have a college degree!”

John studied Dave for a moment, taking in his dejected demeanor. Suddenly, he had a knowing look, as if he knew exactly what had happened.

“So, let me guess,” John said. “You read as far as the ‘college degree’ requirement and stopped, right?” When David didn’t respond, John chuckled. “You a smart man, David, but you can really be a stupid ass sometimes.”

When Dave’s head snapped up and he looked at John with a shocked expression, John laughed.

“First off, a high school diploma is required. College is only ‘preferred’. And, if you had read a little bit further, you would have seen that the requirements actually states ‘college OR equivalent experience.’

“Now, those guys coming in with their college degrees, they’re smart guys, I’ll give ‘em that. They’ve got the book-smarts but most of them don’t have the common sense God gave a duck. You got them beat, hands down, in that area. Dear God, David…you spent two tours in Vietnam! That’s more ‘equivalent experience’ than these guys are ever going to have!”

Dave just stared at John, shocked.

“Look.” John put a hand on Dave’s arm. “Do you want to be a cop?”

Dave slowly nodded and John smiled. “Okay. You still coming to your uncle’s house on Thursday for dinner?”

Dave nodded again.

“You stop over at my place and I’ll have the application for you to fill out. When you’ve done that, give it back to me and I’ll take it in personally. If they like what they see, they’ll call you in for a test, Iike an interview. With that, and my recommendation, you’ll be a shoe-in.”

“You can really do that, John?” David asked in wonder. “You think I could get in and be a cop?”

“David, you were born to be a cop. And you’ll be a great cop. Those college guys, about ten percent of them won’t cut it and about half of the remaining ones will move on to something they consider bigger or better. Some of them will turn into good cops but, trust me, none of them will become half the cop you will be.”

John watched as the look on Dave’s face turned from wonder to surprise to sheer joy.

“I…I could be a cop,” Dave whispered, smiling. “That calls for a celebration. Bartender,” he shouted “another round, on me!”

And, for the first time since David’s return from ‘Nam, John saw the young man he’d always known.

The following Thursday, Dave made his normal dinner visit with his aunt and uncle. Following the meal, he walked over to John Blaine’s house, more nervous than he could remember being in a very long time. Maybe John forgot. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he thought Dave really wasn’t cop material.

But, true to his word, John presented him with the entrance application. They talked a while. John told him what would need to be attached to the form. Then he explained the next steps; the investigation, where they would verify all of the information he’d provide plus look into his history on their own, followed, at a later date, by the interview, where they’d evaluate him face-to-face.

John assured him that he had nothing to worry about, that everything would work out for him, that John’s recommendation would go a long way. Dave left feeling more hopeful than he’d felt since his return to the states.

Two days later, Dave returned the application, with all required documentation, to John, who promised to submit it the very next day. Over the next three weeks Dave went through physical examinations, mental examinations, and, finally, the interview. Now all he could do was wait.

It was the first week in May and Dave had spent the intervening weeks working as many shifts as he could, mostly to keep himself from going crazy, waiting to hear from the LAPD. The extra money he was making didn’t hurt, either.

Now, at the end of another shift, he walked into Jake’s, wanting nothing more than a cold beer and a hot meal. No sooner did the door close behind him then he heard his name being called.

“Hey, Starsky!”

He looked at the far end of the bar to see Jake and Huggy standing together, Jake holding up an envelope and Huggy pointing, directing him over to the last booth by the wall. With nervous anticipation, he made his way to the booth and sat down.

Within a few minutes, Huggy came over, placed two beers on the table and sat down across from Dave. He caught Dave’s eye as he slowly placed the envelope on the table between them.

“I figure whatever is in this letter, you’d need a drink.” With that, Huggy slid the envelope over to him.

Dave pulled the envelope closer, seeing the embossed title of the Los Angeles Police Department in the top left corner and took a deep breath. A myriad of emotions raced through him: anticipation, fear, worry, hope. Slowly, he picked up the envelope, slid his fingers under the flap and pulled out the letter.

Watching from the other side of the table, Dave knew Huggy could see the fear in his eyes as Dave began to read. Huggy continued to watch as Dave’s fear turned into something else. When Huggy couldn’t hold back any longer, he demanded, “Well??? What does it say?”

Dave looked at Huggy and wasn’t embarrassed that Huggy could see tears in Dave’s eyes. Huggy’s sudden concern vanished as he heard the words Dave began to read.

“David Michael Starsky, we are pl-pleased,” Dave stuttered for a moment before he continued, “pleased to inform you that you have been selected to attend the next class of the Los Angeles Police Academy.” He looked up at Huggy, a bright smile creasing his face. “I made it, Hug. I’m in!”

“All right, my brother.” Huggy patted his arm. “When do classes start?”

“Let me see.” Dave scanned the rest of the letter. “Says here that the class starts on Monday, June third. It also says that cadets can start reporting in as early as a week prior, on Monday, May twenty-seventh.”

“Great. That gives you about a month to get your sorry ass in gear.” Huggy laughed, then pick up his glass, indicating for Dave to pick up his. “A toast,” Huggy said. “A toast to the future Officer David Starsky.”

Dave took a drink. “Detective, Hug. My plan is to be Detective David Starsky!”

Huggy laughed. “Well, let’s concentrate on making it through the academy first, okay DEE..tec..tive?”

He had arrived at the Academy on Monday, the first day the cadets were able to report.

The man who reported in that day was a bit different from the man who had so excitedly read that acceptance letter. Gone was the moustache, which wasn’t allowed at the academy. He also had his hair cut short. Not the crew cut he left the army with but short enough to meet police regulations.

Another victim of his transformation into police cadet was his cigarette habit. He had been cutting down but now, he decided, he was done.

Smoking’s about who I used to be, about being the soldier, he’d thought. The ‘new’ me, the cop, wouldn’t smoke.

So, with his duffle bag in hand, he reported in, filled out forms and received his books and manuals. He met with the counselor, who explained the rules and requirements of attending the Academy, gave him the schedule and assigned him a room in the dorm.

He checked out his dorm room, the place he’d be living for the next six months. He also met his roommate, Andrew Jefferson. About his height, he was thinner than Dave, with light brown hair. He welcomed Dave with a firm handshake then directed him to his side of the room.

Utilitarian in design, the room had a twin bed, a desk, a chair, and a dresser/closet combination on one side of the room. The other side of the room was set up the same, already claimed by his roommate.

As he began to transfer his clothes from his duffle to the dresser, Andrew began to regale him with all of the knowledge he’d acquired about the Academy in the few hours he been there. As he prattled on, Dave smiled. The kid seemed nervous and excited but also a bit naïve. He was sure that some of these other cadets would eat him alive.

Dave decided that he’d have to keep an eye on Andrew.

Now it was Thursday morning. The partly cloudy sky and the steady breeze were keeping the warm day from getting too hot. From the small hillock overlooking the Admin building, Dave had a view of the entrance to the dorms and the gym, the running track and the cafeteria, along with the Admin building itself. Sitting on the ground, he watched.

Still doing recon, he thought with a chuckle.

As he scanned the area, he grabbed a pack of peanuts from his pocket and opened it, popping a handful into his mouth. He’d taken to carrying munchies with him to help curb his need for his smokes.

There was his roommate, Andy, coming out of the dorm. Dave watched as he walked towards the gym. On the way, Andy met up with a cadet named William Stevenson. Dave hadn’t actually met him yet but he wasn’t sure he liked what he’d seen so far. He watched until they both entered the gym then continued to scan.

He spied Al Travers walking alone towards the cafeteria. He had met Al there on Monday, when he went to grab dinner. Al had been aggressive at first, as if just waiting for someone to challenge him. But, after talking for a few minutes, and realizing that Dave didn’t really care that he was black, he’d seemed to relax. They had a nice conversation, got to know each other a bit and Dave felt that he’d made a friend. Dave even found out that Al’s name was really Aloysius… “But don’t tell anybody that,” he’d been cautioned.

Al was about six feet tall and looked to be in good shape. Dave felt that, in a pinch, Al would be able to handle himself. But Dave decided to be on the lookout, just in case Al ever needed backup.

Looking over towards the track, he saw someone else he recognized. “Ah,” he smiled. “There’s Country-Boy.”

He’d watched this guy show up yesterday, book bag and suitcase in hand, and found himself immediately intrigued. About six feet tall, skinny, almost white blond hair and a big golly gee smile on his face, with a look of wonder in his blue eyes, he virtually screamed country boy. He appeared to be totally in awe of his surroundings. Dave had watched as he tried to take it all in. But when the kid tripped going up the steps to the Admin building, his book bag skidding across the ground, Dave shook his head, chuckled, and wondered how this kid was ever going to make it on the streets. But Dave had seen something in Country-Boy, and he knew he’d have to keep an eye on this one. He obviously needed someone to watch his back.

He continued scanning the grounds until the thought of lunch got his attention. With that, Dave pulled his knit cap onto his head, grabbed his book and his jacket and headed back to the dorm.

At last, the first day of classes was finally here. They had begun the day in a lecture hall, for “Introduction to The Academy.”

Class materials were handed out, including the official Police Academy manual. Maps of the academy grounds were supplied, showing the working areas, the restricted areas, and the areas that were open access. The buildings where classes were held and the dorms were discussed. Class schedules and dormitory rules were reviewed.

For those who had arrived earlier in the week and had received all of these materials, it was a refresher, a reinforcement of all of the rules. For those cadets arriving just today, it was an eye-opening experience.

I could just be back in the army, Dave had thought with a slight smile.

The class of fifty cadets, all dressed in their bright new uniforms, were seated by last name, placing him higher up in the back row of the hall. This gave him the opportunity to silently observe his new classmates. Since his arrival a week earlier, he’d been watching, getting the lay of the land, getting a feel for the recruits.

Like Stevenson, seated to his left, drawing guns and targets on his notebook.

William “Bull” Stevenson was about six-foot-four, maybe two hundred twenty-five pounds. From his observation, Dave knew that Stevenson was arrogant and lazy, doing what was required only when the staff was watching. More importantly, Stevenson was a bully. Dave had seen him, on a number of occasions during the week, using his large frame to intimidate other, smaller cadets. He also noticed that Stevenson had garnered a following of three or four cadets, his dorm roommate, Andy, included.

Stevenson and his gang didn’t deserve to be cops, Dave thought, and he was determined to keep his eye on them.

He spied Al sitting at the end of his aisle and gave him a nod. Dave then scanned the room below him, looking for the cadet he now called Blondie. He would never call the man that to his face. A silly nickname like that could stick with a man for life. But, until he found out the man’s real name, Blondie would have to do.

Spotting him a few rows up from the bottom, Dave smiled. He had originally dubbed him Country Boy, thinking him a bit gangly, a bit clumsy, and maybe not possessing a lot of big city common sense. A few days later, he adjusted this first impression, though. What Dave had originally thought was thin was really an athletically toned body, the body of a runner. His work-out schedule showed that he was strong and quick. So maybe Blondie wasn’t helpless, just naïve.

For some unexplained reason, Dave felt that he had to get to know this man.

After that class ended, they all headed to the gym. Now, with a few minutes before the beginning of their class on Hand-to-Hand Combat, the gym was filled with the current class of cadets, each performing their own before class rituals. Some were running sprints, some were just standing and talking, others using the free time to study.

Dave was sitting near the bottom of the bleachers, his ever-present Police Manual opened on his lap, still observing.

He saw Blondie a few feet away, working through his stretching regime, when he heard a deep voice.

“Don’t hurt yourself there, skinny!”

Discreetly watching without raising his head, he saw Bull Stevenson walking towards them, with Blondie as his target. From the look on Blondie’s face, Dave knew that he recognized the man coming towards him for what he was. Dave saw a look of determination enter Blondie’s eyes and knew that he wasn’t going to let the man or his gang intimidate him.

I don’t think Blondie needs my help but I’m just gonna watch and see how this turns out, he thought.

Dave watched as Stevenson stepped up to the blond man, crowding him, which was one of his normal intimidating acts. He was followed by his gang: his roommate Andy and three lesser bullies who weren’t as brave or maybe as stupid as Stevenson.

“What do you want, Stevenson?” Blondie asked.

“What are you doing over here, all by yourself? What’s the matter, Hutchinson, afraid to play with the big boys?” The crowd behind Stevenson snickered. He smiled in acknowledgement and stepped closer to Blondie, chests almost touching.

“You know, I’m worried about you, Hutchinson. I’m afraid you’re gonna get out there on the streets and some old wino might knock you down and you might skin your pretty little knees.”

Additional snickers from the small crowd. Others around the room began noticing.

“Maybe I should find you after class and give you some pointers, you know. Take you out back and maybe toughen you up a bit.” An evil smile crossed Stevenson’s face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

They all turned to look at Dave, still sitting quietly on the bleachers, head down, as if engrossed in his book. So much for just watchin’, Dave thought as he looked up.

“And why is that, Starsky?” Stevenson asked, pulling himself up to his full height in challenge, the men behind him snickering.

So, he knows who I am. Good, Dave thought as he closed his manual and quietly looked at Stevenson. He glanced over at Blondie and took in the slight frown and the look in his eyes that told Dave a number of things. This man didn’t appreciate his interruption. He felt that he could take care of himself and he didn’t need anyone coming to his rescue.

Dave caught his eye and tried to send him a message…a statement, a request. It’s okay, the look said. Let me do this. Watch and have a little fun.

This silent communication didn’t seem out of place. Somehow, it felt natural. With an almost imperceptible nod, Blondie acknowledge and accepted the request. A barely-there smile was the response Dave sent back as his attention turned back to Stevenson.

“Well, I was just reading here,” he tapped the book, “that one of the most important skills for being a good police officer is observation. Seeing and assessing the territory and people around you. Now I have observed, over the few days that we’ve been here, that you, Stevenson, come into this gym every morning. You spend maybe ten minutes on the heavy bag, ten minutes on the light bag, and about ten minutes playing with the hand weights. Then you grab a quick shower and head out for breakfast.”

Stevenson glanced at the men around him then over to Blondie before returning his gaze to Starsky. “Yeah? So what?”

“Now Cadet Hutchinson here,” he pointed at Blondie, using his newly realized last name. “He gets here about an hour before you do and spends at least thirty minutes on that heavy bag. He then does fifteen minutes on the light bag and fifteen minutes on the heavy weights. Ya know, he bench-presses about 175 to 200 pounds, without a spotter.”

He looked at Blondie, pointing a finger. “Not a smart move, my friend.” Dave turned his attention back to the Neanderthal and his group.

“Then, when he’s done there, he spends a little time with the hand weights before running twice around the mile track out there.” He pointed to the window behind him, indicating the outside as he began to stand.  “What you called ‘skinny’ is actually very strong and athletic.”

Dave stepped off the bleachers and moved towards Stevenson. “So, based on my observations, if you were to try to toughen up Cadet Hutchinson here,” he drew himself up to his full height, sticking his hands in his pockets, “he would more than likely…kick your ass!”

A nervous grumble echoed thru the group of on-lookers as Dave slowly walked over to stand in front of Stevenson, staring up at him. “And if he didn’t…I would.”

The two men stared at each other until the growing tension was broken by a shrill whistle. “Okay, ladies! Line up!”

The sergeant’s command sent the other cadets scattering as he walked up to the two men. “Is there a problem here?”

“No, sir,” Dave said, still staring at Stevenson. “We were just discussing observations.”

The sergeant looked between the two men, knowing that something was going on. “Well, I want to observe both of you getting your asses in line.”

“Yes, sir,” came the response from both men as they moved to find their places. The sergeant had a look on his face that told Dave he’d be keeping an eye on this group.

As Dave moved to his place, he lost sight of Blondie. His last name is Hutchinson, he thought. Now I just have to find out the rest.

The class was split into smaller groups with separate instructors and, concentrating on the session, Dave didn’t have a chance to interact with Hutchinson again.

Now, at the end of the class, tired and sweaty and wanting nothing more than a hot shower, Dave was gathering up his books when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to face with those bright blue eyes and shining smile and was instantly captivated.

“We, uh…we haven’t been formally introduced.” The smile turned shy as the other man extended his hand. “My name is Ken…Ken Hutchinson.”

Clasping the offered hand, Dave said, “Starsky. I’m Dave Starsky.”

And between the meeting of eyes and the touch of hands, between one breath and the next, Dave knew.

He felt it, a sense of right, a sense of trust, a sense of belonging. It infused itself throughout his body, and sent a wave of calm through his mind. He felt it in his heart. He felt it in his soul. And he saw it in those eyes, in that smile.

He had found his place.

He was home.

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16 Responses to December 16th- Between This Breath and the One That Follows Part 5 by brianna441

  1. Chris Snell says:

    I really loved this story. When are you writing Hutch’s backstory? ?

  2. onna karot says:

    What a lovely, happy ending for a wonderful story.
    A bit sad now because I’d love to read more about their days at the police academy -and the beginning of their love story 🙂

  3. Anne says:

    This was so well written! I loved getting to read more about Starsky’s background and how he ended up meeting Hutch. Thanks so much!

  4. ChocolateEgg says:

    Bravo! I really enjoyed this story. You did a great job of fleshing out Starsky’s early years. His becoming a cadet helped rid him on one bad habit – smoking – and modify a good one – observation. How ‘kismetic’ that their first meeting was quietly momentous – Me and Thee.
    For a few seconds I thought maybe this wasn’t the end of your story. Even though this a good ending, it’s also a great beginning. <3

  5. Pat says:

    “… between the meeting of eyes and the touch of hands, between one breath and the next,”
    Lovely revelation of why the story has its title, brianna. Beautifully developed and written back story for Starsky, and the boys’ first meeting. (Just goes to prove there are as many ‘first meeting’ stories out there as there are… well, days in the calendar, I guess.) Thanks so much for thinking of this and for writing it so very well.

  6. EdieCee says:

    Love Starsky’s detailed back story–how he came back from war and didn’t feel he belonged anywhere, how his friends helped him find his place and how that place
    led him to Hutch’s side. Beautiful. Would love to hear more–like what happened from here?

  7. Hilly says:

    And so it goes…I loved reading this xxx

  8. Maria (MHE) Priest says:

    Such a satisfying end to this story, especially with those last four paragraphs (I’ve re-read them several times already!). Thanks for a wonderful gift.

  9. Nancy Roots says:

    This was so well thought out, Maria. Step by step. Very well done! KUDOS

  10. Jenn C says:

    And they finally meet! Great build up to The Moment.

  11. Bertha Trusdell says:

    Thank you to everyone that left such kind words. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story.

  12. Donna says:

    I loved this story! So many great details. They both found their place – by each other’s side

  13. Dawn Rice says:

    Thank you for such a detailed, comprehensive story of Starsky’s life.

  14. Lisa Herbold says:

    I am loving this story so much!

  15. LauraY says:

    Lovely “end” to a wonderful story. Really enjoyed how so many bits of Canon backstory and characters we love came together.

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