Missing scene a year later: Fatal Charm episode:

Thank you, thank you very much to the charming Karen Leigh.

Unfortunately for Hutch, The old saying 'Hell hath no fury like a women scorned' held more truth to it than China had rice. The petite, dainty, seemingly enchanting nurse, Diana Harmon, had turned out to be more like the wicked witch of the west than the good fairy Glenda. It only took a few dates for Hutch to see this was a one-way ticket on a train going nowhere. Diana was just too overbearing. Hutch knew, when she lied to his landlord about being his sister to get access to his apartment, that she was not the type of girl you wanted to bring home to mother. She had made herself at home too fast. This woman would squeeze the life out of him in a matter of a week. But being the softhearted pussycat that he was, he wasn't quite sure how to let her down gently. When Hutch did as his Rudolph Valentino partner suggested and read her the riot act, he used more politeness than an aristocratic butler. She still ended up taking a long walk off a short pier or better yet she went off the deep end of the shallow end of the pool. Entering his apartment with a knife that would put any machete to shame she crept into his bathroom while he wash away the grime of the city. In good, old fashioned, Norman Bates style she had ripped through the vinyl shower curtain and added another scar to his already growing collection.

Starsky showed up just in time to defuse the situation. Hutch was stitched up and Diana was wrapped up. The funny white jacket didn't do a thing for her figure as she was hauled off to the patty cake room of rubber. Thus closed another chapter on his lousy choice in women.

It had been almost a year of therapy and the black sword of hate still pierced her heart. Her blood still ran colder than the depths of the icy arctic blue sea. Diana had done one hell of a job as she bamboozled the psychologists into giving her a clean bill of now playing with a full deck health. She was about to be released from loony toon town under her own recognizance.

The slender, light brown haired girl sat on the white-sheeted bed. She held an old, yellowed, and withered edged newspaper clipping of two Bay City police detectives. Her stare was concentrated enough to burn the clipping to ashes. Or better yet perhaps a few dozen forked tongued serpents would shoot out of her head and the detectives in the worn out wrinkled paper would quickly turn to stone statues.

Diana trembled with fury. "You'll be sorry Ken. Oh yes so very, very sorry." She growled out like a captured cougar.

The lines of anger and hate faded to a charming smile; like a chameleon changing its colors, as an orderly came in with a wheel chair. "Your limo awaits you Miss Harmon." The plump, dark man spoke cheerfully.

Starsky bounced alongside his partner as they headed toward their separate cars in the police-parking garage. "Come on, Hutch, it's the weekend we've got two whole days off." Starsky pleaded. "Let's go get a couple beers and shoot some pool."

Hutch with exasperated exhaustion gave his partner a weary glare. "Starsk, Buddy, I'm beat. It's been the week from holy-hell and I just want to go get some shuteye." Hutch gave his partner a quick loving slap to his shoulder gripping it once in quick motion before he strode over to his own car and reached to open the rusted brown door. Guilt stricken eyes turned once to peer at the curly haired man who also reached for his car door at the same time. "I'll call you in the morning, 'kay partner?" Hutch's eyes went briefly from tired stormy gray to ocean twinkling blue as a smile crossed his face.

Starsky nodded with a smile of his own. "Hey Hutch, make it afternoon." Starsky gave a waggle of his dark, thick eyebrows. " Okay Blintz?" He gave a wink of his indigo blue eye then dynamically opened the Torino's door and bounced into the driver side seat with the blasting energy of a thousand Mexican jumping beans.

Pulling his car into the garage and closing the door, Starsky patted the hood of his pride and joy. Before he could even say goodnight to his precious gem, a crack to the back of his head sent him to his knees and flattened him on an old oil stain on the garage floor.

Hutch stood before the mirrored image of himself foaming at the mouth and water running continuously from the bathroom faucet. He scrubbed at each tooth with care and spit into the basin. The phone rang. Mouth still full of fluoride treated peppermint he stalked to the bedroom grabbing the phone and shoving it to his ear. "Yellow." He slurred around bubbles of paste, his toothbrush hanging out the side of his mouth. Hearing nothing but a dial tone he put the phone back in its cradle. Shrugging he stalked back to the bathroom. Spitting the now dripping foam into the sink and peering closely at his image again he wielded his toothbrush over his teeth, dots of paste splattering to the mirror. Again the phone rang. Hutch rolled his eyes and stormed toward the phone toothbrush still in his mouth. It stopped after only a ring and a half. Hutch eyeballed the machine in such a way it would make you feel two inches tall. He turned tail in annoyance back to the bathroom. Spitting again and cupping his hand under the water that still ran he sipped swooshed and spit once more. He slam-dunked his toothbrush into its holder and picking up a towel he wiped at the polished glass removing the dots of paste when the phone rang again. "Come on will ya." He spoke to his alter ego in the mirror as he tossed the towel into the hamper and stomped toward the phone. Picking it up in anger. "Yeah what?" Silence on the other end and heavy breathing sent a volt of electricity to every nerve ending causing his hair to stand on end. "Who?" Click was all he got. Hutch sat on the edge of his bed looking at the phone and pondering it as if it were the final bar exam. He jolted when it rang again. He quickly picked it up with a sly smile foregoing his previous gut feeling. "Sammy Salsa's Tostado stand. We heat 'em, you eat 'em." He spoke in fake Mexican accent. I'll teach Starsky to play aroun......

"A muffled, unrecognizable voice spoke so fast he barely caught the words as they flew in one ear and out the other. "Your partner's a dead man." Click.

Hutch's car slid off the road and up over the curb almost hitting a tree. He bolted from the LTD like a bat out of hell and headed up the steps to Starsky's apartment. A quick search and no Starsky. Puzzled he bolted in same fashion down the staircase and stood under an awning just outside the hallway entrance to Starsky's apartment. The sound of a light shower pattered on the aluminum. He spared a quick glance at the garage. Gut wrenching instincts pulled him to examine the garage closer as he took two timid steps in its direction. The small, square-paned windows of Starsky's garage were steamed and moisture beaded on the inside. Hutch heard the sound of the Torino's powerful engine and his heart slammed in his rib cage with fear. He stumbled once before his feet took flight across the cement driveway, a few yards feeling more like a few miles before he reached the door and entered the single car storage unit. The garage was hot and stuffy and the smell of exhaust permeated the air. Hutch could just make out inside the filmy windows of the Torino the curly head of his partner slumped over the steering wheel.

Raw fear filled his veins as Hutch roared over to the driver side door. He pulled at the chrome handle to no avail. Running back around to the passenger side, the same scenario produced nothing. Sliding across the hood of the highly waxed red car he rapped at the driver side window trying to wake his partner. Locked from the inside damn it to hell and with no spare key on hand he froze a moment in terror. Quick enough the blond pulled out of his panicked state and slid back over the hood to the passenger side window once more. He pulled his gun from its holster and using its butt end broke the side glass. Enough of a hole made for him to carefully place his hand through the jagged shards and unlock the latch. Hutch then opened the door, brushed some glass off the black leather upholstery and slid over to his motionless partner. Even though the windows of the Torino were rolled up snug the carbon monoxide poison had seeped into the car. God knows how long his partner had been in there, Hutch thought, as he himself began to gag from the fumes. Hutch tipped his friend's face up off his chest. His skin tinged with an unhealthy gray color. Starsky's eyes briefly locked to Hutch before they rolled back up into his head. Hutch reached for the keys that dangled in the ignition and shut the car off. In a wild frenzied manner he pulled Starsky across the glass-strewn seat and hauled the unconscious man from the car up into his arms. The curly head lolling backward and arms dangling limply as Hutch hurried out of the gas chamber.

Paying no mind to the rain that now sheeted down he carried Starsky's lifeless body back into the hallway at the bottom of the staircase. Placing two fingers to his partner's neck he felt a flutter and his own heart fluttered with relief. What the hell was the first aid he should apply for carbon monoxide poisoning? His brain filtered through his old college pre-med days quickly. Oxygen! He had to get fresh clean air into the lungs and blood stream of his partner and fast. Hutch pulled the rag doll up off the plastic runner of the tiny hallway. Starsky came to him like a wet noodle flopping against his chest. Hutch in panic yelled out to his friend. "Starsky!" The dark haired mans eyes fluttered briefly but he couldn't keep them open. "Come on Buddy! You gotta walk for me, come on! Come on!" Hutch trying to keep cool but was losing the battle quickly, not liking at all the unnatural gray color in his partner's face.

Hutch pulled Starsky's dead weight with all his might back out into the cool, rain filled air. Their hair drenching quickly as the rain pelted down. Starsky's feet tangled and twisted as Hutch dragged him back and forth across the driveway. "Walk Buddy. You can do it Starsk, come on." He had to get his partner to exert himself and take in some of the clean fresh air. Hutch stopped briefly as his friend didn't appear to be responding favorably to the first aid. Starsky's chin drooped to his chest and Hutch, with one hand holding him up, used the other hand to tilt Starsky's chin skyward. The patter of rain hit his face rousing the man some. Starsky's body stiffened at the shock of the cold wet drops and he took a small gasp.

With excitement Hutch chanted in his partner's ear. "That's it Starsk. Come on breathe." Hutch held Starsky closer, as his buddy shuddered taking in another small gasp of air. "Again, Starsk, that's it, again breathe in deep as you can." Starsky's eyes slit open Hutch noticed and quickly took note of the distant far off look in them.

"Starsky, move your feet. Walk Buddy. I need you to walk." Hutch still dragging his partner back and forth through the rain. His own arms tiring at the solid bulk of his partner. Suddenly Starsky sucked in a deep lungful of air his feet twitched and scrambled at the ground. Hutch pulled him more firmly to his waist, as his body seemingly wanted to slide down to the earth. "No, no Buddy. No sitting down, keep walking. You gotta keep walking pal." Some color was now returning to the oxygen deprived man and Hutch took in his own breath of air that he had been holding for sometime now.

Starsky's feet moved more as he put more of his own weight on them. His movements were very uncoordinated and he stumbled still leaning heavy on Hutch. He choked and spit a few times on the ground. "That's it Starsk. Get it out, that's it. You've got it partner. You've got it now." More relief washed over Hutch and he finally lowered Starsky to the ground as the rain also finally slowed its decent.

Starsky, leaning back against Hutch's chest trembling with weakness not quite aware yet as to what the hell was going on. In a sudden burst of wakefulness he bolted from Hutch's chest but didn't get far as Hutch pulled him with ease back down. "Shsh -shsh you're okay, Buddy, you're okay." He whispered meekly in his partner's ear.

A spasm of coughing hit him hard and he fell back against Hutch gripping his partner's arm for all he was worth which wasn't much.

"H-hch....." Starsky slurred with uncertainty.

"Yeah Buddy, I'm right here. You're okay. I got you now." Hutch soothed.

"Wa the he-ll happen?" Starsky's brain still full of carbon fog.

"Buddy, I was going to ask you that same questi......." A bullet slamming into the pavement near their feet stopped them both cold.

Hutch flung his body over his partner in his need to protect him. Speaking calmly and looking around for the sniper's location "Gotta get you out of here partner. Come on, help me out." Hutch lifted the still loopy man to his feet. More bullets showered around them and Hutch dove for a nearby bush the only cover he could get to in such short notice. He pushed Starsky to the ground and lay nearly on top of him as he pulled his own revolver from its holster. Starsky's head swirled as he tried to grasp at what was going down. "I hear a g-gun." He spit and coughed out more into the ground.

"Damn straight Buddy." Hutch peered out from under the bush and a bullet whizzed by taking a wisp of his golden hair with it. "Shit." The muffled word was said through a clenched jaw as he dove his head against Starsky's back.

"What the? Who the?" Hutch fumbled for words as another bullet shattered the garage door glass and yet another bit into the cement driveway only inches from the bush. "Hell." His voice ringing out louder in frustration; they were pinned like a couple of tailless donkeys.

Starsky shivered under the weight of his partner and Hutch eased off him some. "Hang in there Buddy. I'll get us out of here."

"Hutch!" Starsky's head popped up off the dirt ground.

Another bullet whizzed by and Hutch pushed the curly head back down hard and fast. "Keep your head down dummy."

"Hutch!" Starsky spoke into the dirt his partner had stuck his face into so rudely.

"What is it Starsk? Can't you see I'm a little busy here?" Hutch spoke as he lifted up to one knee thinking they should try to move for more cover.

"Diana. Hell… Hutch! It was Diana." Starsky looked over his shoulder the whites of his eyes still tinged with the blueness of the exhaust he was forced to breathe in. " I remember. She hit me over the head. How the hell did that little gal get me in my car?"

Hutch looked at Starsky with fear as the memories of the crazed women ran through his mind faster than the speed of light.

More rounds whistled through the air. "What she using, a damn bazooka?" Starsky quipped. Hutch shook his head helplessly.

"Checkmate?" Starsky's carbon filled eyes questioned his partner.

"Check." Hutch reassured him.

"Hutch, I'm going to make a run for it, draw her out. You wing her 'kay?"

"Good plan Buddy, except for one little thing."

"What's that?" Starsky's head tilting to the side slightly in confusion. Hutch still wavering in front of his oxygen starved brain.

"Starsk, you're in no shape to run a mini maratho......" Hutch watched in shock and disbelief as his partner burst from the ground running. He zigzagged across the lawn bullets thudding into the wet grass.

Hutch rose instinctively to cover his crazy ass partner's sorry behind. "Starsky!" He yelled out in anger as his eyes scanned the grounds for the woman scorned.

Seeing Diana across the street her attention focused on Starsky. Hutch crept around the yard. Dodging behind dented metal garbage cans, a blue bicycle, a red wagon, a few parked cars, a pile of dog crap, and finally a tree so near Diana now he could hear her growling words. "Who's sorry now Ken? Who's sorry now?"

Starsky didn't get too far as his lungs began to burn and a stitch in his side leveled him to the ground. Bullets still biting into the wet grass around him.

Hutch leapt through the air just as Diana had Starsky dead in her sights. He knocked the gun from her hand and it slid across the slick rain soaked sidewalk to land in a puddle. Hutch quickly rolled her to her stomach and cuffed her hands behind her back. She lay there upon the wet ground kicking and screaming in a fit of uncontrolled rage. "I hate you! I hate you!" She repeated over and over and over till Hutch himself saw the red unbridled blur of hate before him.

A patrol cruiser, red and blue lights twirling and sirens blaring, took that moment to finally arrive and the cops placed the mad women into the back of the car. After quick explanation to the uniformed officer Hutch took off, back across the street to have a few words with his quick on his feet and mush for brains partner.

Hutch trotted to his partner quickly seeing him lying face down in the grass. He knelt down next to the shit for brains man and gripped at the back of his neck in sympathy. Starsky took in huge gasps of air, his chest felt like it had been squeezed through a press and his headed pounded to the beat of his heart. "You okay?" Hutch asked with gentleness. Before his partner could answer him, anger took the place of sympathy. "Gordo, that was dumb, really dumb. That's not how we work Starsky, remember?" Hutch was miffed.

"Starsky sat up, getting his breathing under control but feeling very light headed and weak. "I forgot." He spoke in mock haziness.

"Starsky, you'd forget your nose if it weren't attached to your head." Hutch teased, letting his anger drift away." Hutch laughed out.

Starsky attempted to stand but his rubber legs gave out and Hutch caught him by the collar of his jacket before he could slip back down to the ground. Hutch loomed over his friend, their eyes meeting in silent communication. Starsky broke the silent tension first. "So how bout that game of pool now buddy boy?" Starsky waggled his thick eyebrows and winked a blue eye at his steaming friend.

Hutch rolled his eyes in utter defiant amazement. "The only place you're going, buddy boy, is home to bed."

"But Mom." Starsky whined.

"No buts, Don Juan, let's go." Hutch took his partner firmly, but with love, by the arm and led him back toward his apartment.

"If I'm a good boy can I have a beer?" Starsky continued the game with a crooked smile on his still, ever so slightly, gray tinged face.

Hutch sighed deeply. "Starsk, what the hell am I going to do with you?"