The doctor released Starsky later that night. Hutch drove him home in silence. It was raining when they left and Starsky attention was riveted to the rain soaked streets as he remembered when he first met Morgan.

They were at a party. Hutch had been invited by an old friend. It was a small gathering—about twenty people. The instant Starsky entered the room, his attention fell on the blonde. She was gorgeous in a Marylyn Monroe sort of way. She had platinum blonde hair and the most startling grey eyes he had ever seen. Starsky knew the party was going to be interesting the minute he laid eyes on her. And she noticed him too, making a quick beeline for the brunet the minute she saw him.

“I dreamed of meeting a man like you,” she’d said, her gray eyes sparkling. Starsky noticed her voice was throaty and seductive. She reached a hand out to him, beckoning him to dance. It didn’t matter that there was no music playing or that they were the only two people dancing. Soon, Starsky barely noticed the presence of the other people at the party. His attention was totally riveted on the Blonde. Her name was Morgan Harlow. Starsky, laughed when she told him that. Here she was, platinum blonde hair like Jean Harlow and her last name was Harlow.

It turns out Harlow was her real name and so was the platinum blonde hair—that is until she reached the age of fifteen and it had turned a dishwater blonde. That’s when she decided to dye it platinum blonde. Fitting she’d said, considering her last name.

After a few hours, Hutch had asked him what he wanted to do about getting home. They had come in Hutch’s car. Starsky took one look at Morgan and the answer was clear—he left with Morgan.

They had stopped on the way home at a secluded spot in the park. The moonlight was in full force as they sat enjoying each others company. Soon, they were making out like teenagers and decided to go to Starsky’s apartment for more privacy. They were going over a bridge when, for some reason, the car careened into the lake.

Starsky attention was brought back to the present by the sudden blare of Hutch’s radio. He gave a loud sigh and Hutch looked questioningly at the Brunet.

“How’d ya think the car wound up in the lake, Hutch. I mean, it wasn’t raining. She wasn’t speeding. It was almost like she just drove in there.”

“I don’t know, Gordo, but we’re going to find out. First you need rest. You suffered through an awful ordeal.”

Starsky spent the rest of the ride home silently watching the soft fall of rain against the windshield.

Two hours later they were in Starsky’s apartment. They had ordered Pizza and Starsky ate hungrily never speaking of the ordeal. Hutch noted that Starsky was reluctant to go to sleep. He seemed tired and listless but every time Hutch mentioned going to bed, Starsky found an excuse to stay awake. Finally Hutch convinced Starsky to at least attempt to sleep and he’d reluctantly agreed. Now they stood in Starsky bedroom. The detective was still shaky and his eyes reflected the terror he had only recently witnessed.

“Try to get some sleep. The doctor said just to wake you every two hours.”

“Okay,” Strarsky said slowly, climbing into bed and laying on his back. He offered no protest.

“You need anything?” Hutch asked, pulling the cover over Starsky, and stroking his dark curls.

Starsky locked eyes with Hutch, his expression sad. He said nothing and Hutch was becoming concerned. It was not like Starsky to be reticent around him. They had always talked their problems through, each helping the other when needed. Now Starsky seemed like a man who had been totally deflated of everything. He lay lifeless, looking up at Hutch.”

“I’ll be fine Hutch. Just need to get some rest. I’ll be fine.” Starsky voice was mechanical. He spoke the words but Hutch could see that he didn’t feel them.

“You want me to stay here with you? I mean the bed is big enough.”

“No,” Starsky smiled. “I think tucking me in should be enough for tonight. Why don’t you get some sleep?. You’re not lookin’ too good.”

“Gee, thanks, buddy,” Hutch said turning towards the door, happy to hear the light banter in Starsky’s voice, even if it was forced. “If you need anything, or just want to talk. I’ll be on the couch.”

“Thanks, Hutch.” Starsky said slowly, closing his eyes. Hutch turned the light off as he left the room. .

The dream started at the party. His eyes were drawn to the blonde the minute he and Hutch entered the room. And she noticed him. The blonde made a path towards him and kissed him soundly on the lips. She drew back and Starsky looked into her dead gray eyes. She smiled at him as if she knew a secret that he, somehow, did not.

“Why did you let me die?” she asked, looking expectantly at him.

Starsky backed away, a scream threatening to erupt. Morgan advanced, still asking the question. Starsky screamed as if his life was being drained. He kept screaming even after Hutch entered the room.