Starsky stomped his free foot to the floorboards of the Torino, wiggling his toes in the all too tight fitting black dress shoes he had to wear to court. Creeping along the three hundred and fifty foot high bridge at a snails pace, was frustrating the hell out of him. He just wanted to head home and hit the shower.

Hutch hid a smile from his partner, with a hand to his mouth stifling a fake cough. Starsky was about as patient as a snowman in July. It was a long day in court, but he was enjoying the ride home; using the time to unwind. His ivory white dress shirt halfway unbuttoned revealed the bronze flesh of his smooth chest, as the wind blew up under it rippling the silk like a flag. Hutch shut his eyes to the feathery feel, and tried not to say a word to his partner. When Starsky was in one of his impatient moods it was better off to leave him alone. Hutch instead decided to look out his window to the city’s skyline. The monstrous skyscrapers seemed so tiny and far away from this height. He gazed upward to the marshmallow clouds that floated across the pastel blue sky. He imagined the river’s gorge, picturing those same clouds reflecting like blobs of color in the waterway below. The sun was setting, and he marveled at the intense hues of tangerine orange that filled the horizon and then seemingly to rain down toward the river.

Below, the river seemed as calm as a farm pond, and his mind drifted lazily back in time to a beautiful July day when he and his Grandfather had taken a row boat out into the middle of Thatcher’s Lake. They had spent hours of peaceful silence just floating about, casting and recasting their lines not uttering a word or catching a damn thing. They stayed out on that pond till the sun went down, turning the sky lipstick red and then completely disappearing, hidden behind the wings of night. It was a simple time that Hutch thought of often.

"What’s the hold up?" Starsky asked no one in particular. His irate curls seemed to bounce more as he leaned his head out the open window of the Torino trying to crane his neck to see around the congestion of cars before him.

The annoyed audible voice of his partner traveling through time, yanked Hutch out of his memory. He gave a small shudder to the shock of time travel. "Told you not to take the East 9^th bridge during rush hour," Hutch quipped, leaning an elbow out the window, and slouching down in his seat making himself more comfortable.

As the Torino crept slowly along Starsky noticed a gathering of people outside their cars, at the side of the road a few yards ahead, peering over the edge of the bridge. "This can’t be good," he said, putting the car in park snatching the keys from the ignition.

Hutch looked up, "what you going to do?"

"Go see what’s going on , dummy." Starsky huffed exiting the stuffy vehicle.

He pulled his badge from his inside jacket pocket and flipped the leather case open, as he stalked cautiously over toward the jamboree of on lookers.

"What’s happening here?" Starsky asked his badge held high.

The gathering of gawkers pointed over the rail of the bridge to a small four foot platform below them. Starsky cautiously bent over to see a young girl with long blond hair, her skirt hiked up under her. She was deliberating with a beer can in her right hand, her long slender legs dangling and moving back and forth through air, as if she sat on a swing not some flimsy platform, at such a lethal height.

"Hey you! Hey!" Starsky howled down to the girl. Starsky watched a few pigeons fly by, swooping up under the bridge to their nesting nooks. Looking back to the girl he commanded her in his best fatherly voice that he had picked up from his Captain. "Get back up here!" A raised middle finger was his only response, and he vowed never to have kids, as he watched the teenage girl slug down whatever she was drinking out of the can.

"Terrific." Starsky gave a despairing sigh, very aware of the flecks of dirt that spit out from under the bridge and fluttered down to the river below from the constant roll of traffic. Just thinking about standing on the high bridge looking down over the safety of the railing was enough to make him dizzy. His vision became unfocused, and he took a faltering step backward, his head snapping up from the scene to look for his partner. He needn’t look far, as he stumbled right into Hutch’s chest.

"I’m going out to her." The blond officer grandly stated, already moving toward the rail as he spoke, having seen the girl only a second after his acrophobia partner did.

"You’re what?"

Without missing a beat Hutch pushed past Starsky, moving like a rabbit darting away from the clutching claws of an eagle. He knew the battle that was about to begin, and it wasn’t up for debate. Someone had to get to that girl and talk her down or back up from there. One long leg swung up and over the metal rail. "You heard me," Hutch said with conviction.

Starsky scrambled to keep up, finally able to grab his partner by the arm whirling him about, bringing the leg back to the right side of the banister, he looked Hutch straight in the eye. "The hell you are."

Hutch jerked from the handle his partner had on him. "The hell I am." He took in a deep breath letting his pumping heart slow. "You want to ruin my hero’s reputation, Starsky?"

"Maybe so!" Starsky announced, very watchful of his partner.

They stood a moment amongst the crowd, a looming war between eyes alone.

"What would you give for a little safety insurance?" A young man with dirty river blond hair spoke up, coming forward out of the mob.

"I’d give a lot." Starsky bristled, still keeping his eyes locked to Hutch. "What you got?" He demanded, knowing Hutch wouldn’t subside, his patience eluding him like a rare mythical creature.

"Fifty bucks, lets you use this." The young boy held up a long coiled rope. "If you fall you won’t go far." The boy laughed heartily, obviously having used the thing himself. "The body harness allows your hands to be free." He could see the concern and doubt on the curly man’s face, and he shuffled his feet in nervousness to the cold look.

"Don’t worry, this thing will twang you back up like a rubber band." He held up a black belt like harness attached to the long bungie cord pulling it to show its elasticity.

"Fair enough." Hutch eyed the equipment. His head nodding in understanding. "Pay the man, Starsk."

"I still think--"

"Starsky don’t think, Just pay him." Hutch finally took his eyes from his squabbling partner. "Hook me into this thing." Hutch turned to the young man, grabbing the harness and helping the boy suit him up, before his partner could bring the siege of hell down to argue some more. "Starsk, go call it in. Go."

Starsky grumbled as he dug down deep into his front jeans pocket producing the required donation. The young man excitedly snatched the $50 Starsky unpleasantly held between two fingers in front of the kid’s nose. He wasn’t happy; his skeptical eyes resting on the apparatus that was suppose to be Hutch’s fail safe. He knew, however, this had to be done. They couldn’t just let the girl take a swan dive without trying to talk her out of it. "Watch yourself." He said to Hutch with warning, then he swiveled around, trotting back to the car as the kid began to finish skillfully harnessing Hutch up.

****************************************************************************

Just as Starsky trotted back to the scene Hutch was preparing to go over the rail. The bungie cord fastened to the support of the bridge, Hutch‘s torso secure in its harness.

"Hutch!" Starsky’s booming voice stopped the blond man, and he turned around. Starsky gave a shudder, the willies crawling up his spine. Hutch didn’t have the fear he did for heights. "You don’t have the power to fly, dummy." Starsky’s voice harsh, his face twisting to the thought of his partner’s body thrust to the river below. "I’m telling ya," Starsky paused to enunciate each word. "Cops…Can’t…Fly!" He said again but this time taking the sting from his voice.

"I don’t like flying." Hutch said, his eyes flashing bright, eyebrows shooting upward, asking for his partner’s permission; out of courtesy as he was going to do this either way. "I can charm a bird out of a tree, buddy, don’t worry." Hutch tried to lighten the fear he saw in his partner’s eyes.

Another looming moment was exchanged between them. A fool could see the respect and love the partners had for one another. They held an aura of mystery, as they spoke to one another by glance alone.

"Get going." Starsky was the first to break the hypnotizing look. Knowing this had to happen. Giving his permission. With this traffic, help was a while away and they couldn’t wait.

Hutch immediately turned back to cautiously swing one leg, then the other, up over the rail; the crowd gasping at the bravery of this man.

Starsky turned to the young boy who stood with regal pride, arms folded over his chest. "That contraption better hold!." His eyes narrowing, making the boys arms slip to his sides, and his shoulders droop a degree, as he backed slightly away from the breath of cool air that blew down his neck, and the dark threatening snarl of Starsky‘s voice.

**************************************************************************

There was no camera in her hand, no happy smile on her face. Looking at her anyone could see she was no tourist, as she sat on the edge of death, a red, white, and blue beer can in hand, looking off into the distance.

Perspiration dripped fast down his cheeks as Hutch inched his way closer to the young girl. He fluttered his eyelashes shaking away the drops, clearing his vision. Even with the safety belt around him the height they were at was threatening, and he felt a nervous pitch roll his stomach like dough.

"What’s your name sweetheart?" He cautiously asked, as he needed to announce his presence. Looking down to the gorge below he watched with queasy fascination while a large chunk of driftwood sailed serenely on by. Hutch could feel a slight tremble coming to his legs; he willed it away looking back to the girl who was not giving him any iota of interest.

"What are you doing up here?" Hutch tried again to gain attention, to work up a conversation.

"None of your business, and I felt I needed a change of scenery." She answered both his questions sarcastically snubbing the officer who was trying to help her, choosing not to look at him at all. "I would have tied myself to the railroad ties on 44^th street, but I didn’t want to get blood all over the tracks."

Hutch gave a small snort of air out his nose to this young girl’s snippy attitude. "So instead you intend to jump off the East 9^th bridge?" Hutch questioned, eyebrows arching high on his forehead trying to make sense of the jumper before him.

"Why not?" The distraught girl remarked using more of her flippant tone.

"I’m sure your parents would be very upset to know you’re up here."

"No one cares." She spoke with a hopelessness that took Hutch to the edge of sorrow.

"I care." His words but a rift in the wind, yet she heard him, her face softening a tad.

"What do you know about anything?" Hardening her heart once more in a flash. She lifted the beer can and took a swig. On the outside she appeared cool and collected, but Hutch could see through her light green eyes. On the inside she was falling apart.

"You know I remember my first beer." Hutch did what every good negotiator would do. He kept talking, distracting, searching for a foothold to talk this girl off the ledge. Talk her out of taking her own life. "I didn’t like it." He paused, watching her willful spirit suck down another gulp from the metal can. "Couple pals of mine got hold of a case and we drank it in the hay loft of my Grandfather’s barn. " Hutch chuckled lightheartedly at the memory.

"Think I puked for two nights straight. Guts felt like a cement mixer." Hutch could see a small tug of a smile come to the girls face. "My Grandfather, he had a heart made of glass. Didn’t so much as raise his voice to me. Just smiled and said, "Boy, you fall off a turnip truck and hit your head?"

The sound of his Grandfather’s voice held Hutch captive a moment that was twice in a matter of an hour he had thought of the beloved man. But the memory quickly washed away as awareness came to him. It was almost like an itch that needed to be scratched. He slowly tipped his head upward, feeling eyes hawking his way to bring him out of his reverie. His blue eyes searched till they caught hold of what he felt.

Starsky gripped tight to the rail with both hands. It was as if he were trying to hold Hutch in place from a distance. He bent over, his eyes clearly latched on to his partner’s every move.

"What would your Grandfather say to you?" Hutch gave his friend an okay nod before turning back to the girl.

"He’s dead."

"Yeah, mine too. I miss him." Hutch took a breath. "What about your parents?"

"They stink!" She yelled in agitation downing the rest of her beer and tossing it out into the air for the wind to catch.

Hutch mindfully set his feet like stone to the ledge he was on. He watched the current of air take the empty aluminum can, and steadily loft it about until it dropped to the river and sailed onward. He decided to change the topic, seeing the girl become more distraught at the mention of her parents. He would find out later what the deal with this girl was. For now his main objective was to get her back to higher solid ground.

"Getting windy up here." He stepped closer slowly coming down to a teetering squat next to her, but being sure not to touch her.

"Who cares."

"You must care about something." His melodic voice sang gently to her. "Why don’t we get off this ledge?"

"That’s like trying to shut the barn door after the horse has escaped." She didn’t know why, he hadn’t said much in the way of explaining to her what this life was all about, what the purpose of living was for. But for some reason this caring man was getting through to her, and she smiled at her own memory. Maybe it was his voice and his gentle moves that seemed to bring her peace, like the slow moving water below them.

"Your Grandfather?" Hutch questioned her with a smile, knowing she couldn’t have made that up herself.

"Yeah." She gazed down into the river, as if trying to see her own reflection. Hutch’s heart thumped fiercely, he didn’t want to lose this girl.

It really was getting windy, and getting colder. Hutch could see his breath collide with the wind, producing small puffs of smoke. He could see in her eyes that she didn’t want to take this leap. He held out his hand toward her.

"Come on, I’ll buy you a sundae." He offered genuinely.

She looked into the blond’s eyes. He had eyes that could look into your soul with just one precious blink, capture your burning heart, and then dip it into the sea, cooling the pain. They were full of a gentleness she had never known, their soft blueness fragile, and sensitive as butterfly’s wings. She didn’t have the nerve to jump. Maybe this man could help her. Maybe she needed to trust someone. She leveled her gaze at him and gave a nod of ‘yes.‘ She stood slowly to her feet positioning them on the edge of the platform. Hutch could tell the girl was really scared, pale with panic. She looked up to the massive steel arch of the bridge. "Look here. Look at me." He instructed calmly. "Hold my hand." He reached for her, taking her tiny hand into his large one. "Keep your eyes on me, only me."

They moved slowly to climb back over the rail, but a gusty wind took the small girl off balance, her sweaty palm slipping out of Hutch’s as she tumbled backward into the silence of thin air. Hutch found himself forsaking danger, tossing aside all instinct to stay on solid ground, forgetting the rope attached to him, as he launched off the edge surrendering to death, reaching out to the unprotected girl.

"Huuuutch!" Starsky’s shrill shriek was all the blond heard as without thought he plunged off the lip of the platform.

It was like a dream that he couldn’t awake from. He was falling, endlessly falling. Then a sodden peace filled the hollow center of his soul. He was adrift like a leaf. The wind safely floating under him. He was a drop of rain caught on the wing of a bird; he was a ray of sunshine filtering through a cloud to lightly touch the earth. For that flashing moment, there was nothing but feathery air, and a pallet of blue, as he stretched out to nab the girl, only seconds after she fell, pulling her tight to him.

Hutch tried to suck in a breath, but it was whipped away by gravity, wind, and the adrenaline rush of fear that eagerly gained force throughout his body. For a moment Hutch tipped upside down, and he swore the river below opened its jaws awaiting to swallow them both whole. Somehow he righted himself during mid flight, the setting sun blocking his eyes from any further creatures wanting to take his life.

He was suddenly aware of his flight being halted, the cord around him snapping and yanking him hard back upward. He struggled to breath as the wind whirled them about. Suddenly Hutch felt himself slamming into something jagged and hard as rock. The momentum and wind had swung him violently into the bridge. His left shoulder hit into one of the steel supports, but he didn’t feel the sharp piece of metal that was sticking up cut into his flesh. The rush of endorphins that flew through his veins kept the pain silent, as Hutch concentrated on keeping a hold of the girl in his arms.

After a few moments of whooshing through the rushing air like a yo-yo, the momentum was lost and the two dangled swaying only slightly. Everything spun together before Hutch’s eyes. The line cut into his flesh. His muscles involuntarily straining against the rope, struggling to keep hold of the girl who had wrapped herself around him like a pretzel, while they swayed back and forth from the momentum of their plunge.

"Starsky." The only word he managed to get out between gasping for his breath and squinting through dazed eyes trying to regain his avenue of up and down.

"Partner, I’m right here. Listen to my voice. Gonna pull you up. Just hold onto her." Starsky cupped his hands over his mouth, trying to make his voice boom loud enough for Hutch to hear him.

The confirming sound of his partner hit his ears, and Hutch automatically tried to relax his frantic movements. Convulsive sobs wrenched from the young girl he held to his person with extra human strength.

"It’s okay. We’re okay. Keep your eyes closed and hold on." Hutch said, trying not to look down as they softly bounced through the air.

She nodded against his shoulder, "uh-huh."

Confused by the fall, Hutch felt a desperate vertigo sweep over him. Images seemed to duplicate. Shades of gray alternated with light. He tried to blink it away, but the spinning world before him seemed to have entered his head.

"Pull." Starsky’s voice penetrated his upside down world. "Hang tough, partner were bringing you up." But Hutch couldn‘t keep focused on his partner’s voice that still shouted instructions down to him.

It wasn’t long after that, hands were grasping at his shoulders and the first sign of pain ripped down his arm tingling his fingers, as he and the girl were pulled apart, then up over the rail.

He was sitting, no he was standing, no he was falling. Just as his feet touched the solid ground, Hutch pitched backward, but before he could plunge to the pavement he felt himself bounce against something solid that gripped him under his armpits and eased him down softly.

"Hutch! Hey Hutch."

Things were a jumble of color and movement. Hutch tried to steady his ragged breathing. A sound pecking faintly in his head brought Starsky stepping into his view. Hutch found himself resting against a support beam of the bridge in the shade. He slowly turned his head, looking in all directions, till he gained some of his bearings back. The rows of traffic before him moved at various speeds, as it was being directed by several uniforms. People milled about, exhaust fumes permeated the air, emergency lights flashed, and horns honked. The jungle like scene before him made a considerably sick feeling come over him.

Kneeling at his partner’s side, Starsky carefully peeled away the lightweight material of his partner’s dress shirt to reveal the slash across his left shoulder. "You with me now, huh?" Seeing the distant look fade from the baby blue eyes of his hero partner.

"I…I’m not sure." Hutch breathlessly spoke, taking his eyes off the scene before him to look at Starsky. He choked back one big silent tear of pain that seemed to jam in the back of his throat. "Ahhhh." Hutch groaned, as a sound like the roar of the sea filled his ears.

"Hey, take it slow, you look faint." Starsky’s worry increased, as did Hutch’s trembling. "You got yourself a nice gash. On your shoulder, but you‘ll be okay, partner." Wasting no time, Starsky magically produced a bandana and placed gentle pressure to the wound.

Hutch looked to the steady pulsing of ruby red that stained the material. "Th…this look okay to you?" Giving a slight shrug of his shoulder, highlighting his injury. The movement kicked him in the gut, stripping his breath from him for a moment.

"It‘d look better if you’d just sit still, and let me get this bleeding to stop ." Starsky winced, seeing Hutch shut his eyes to the pain. He quickly targeted the bleeding area again with more pressure, this time not so gentle as he tried to gain control of the blood flow. "You’ll need stitches for this."

"Damn." Hutch cursed, struggling to stop shivering, and hold back a cry from his partner’s ministries. "That…that was one of my b…best shirts." Hutch joked, but his smile twisted into pain, and he tried to lift his sagging arm up against his chest to no avail.

Hutch drew in heavy breaths, trying to stop his stomach from turning with the pressure Starsky was putting on the wound, but it didn‘t help. He leaned forward, his face flushed pink, licking his lips, feeling faint, his vision dotting, and trying not to be sick. "The girl?" He mumbled, hoping to distract his own mind while he fought to force the bile back down his throat.

"She’s safe. They’re taking her to the hospital for evaluation. You’re next. I’ll take you. Can you walk back to the car?"

Hutch hesitated only briefly, allowing Starsky to swipe a tangle of strands off his sweaty forehead, then he moved to push himself off the pavement. Starsky wrapped an arm around his waist, getting Hutch to his feet. Was he sitting? Standing? Falling? That same sense of confusion was back full swing, and Hutch tried hard to disguise his pain, but as he got to his feet he swayed once more and losing all feeling in his legs, he began to slide back downward.

Starsky clasped his hands tighter around Hutch’s waist. "You can fly buddy, but you can’t walk so good. Maybe we should wait for the ambulance?"

Hutch felt a sense of exhaustion, but shook his head. "No, just point me in the right direction, and don‘t let go."

Starsky gave Hutch a minute to pause and catch his breath. "Ready?"

Hutch shivered as he leaned heavy against his partner. His shirt a wet sweaty mess sticking to his skin, making him feel cold and clammy. "Starsk." Hutch gave up any further words, letting his partner know he was ready by taking a feeble step forward.

"Hm?" Starsky was too busy concentrating on taking it easy as he walked his partner around cars and people back to the Torino.

"Ya know, now I’m even further convinced th…this hero stuff is for the bi…birds." Hutch hardened his face some. "After the hospital I think I could use a beer."

Starsky chuckled as he lowered his friend into the passenger side of his car. "Hutchinson, after the hospital you’re under arrest."

"On what charge?" Hutch’s head dropped back against the seat, perspiration dripping down his face.

"For being a hero one too many times." Starsky shut the car door with resolution, not waiting for a response.

"N…not guilty." Hutch whispered curving his mouth into a smile letting his eyes shut in sleep before Starsky could even get into the driver side door.