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Hell, what's the matter with your head, yeah
Hell, what's the matter with your mind and your sign?
And-a ooh-ohh
Hell, nothin's a matter with your head, baby, find it
Come on and find it
Hell with it, baby, cause you're fine and you're mine
And you look so divine
Starsky stopped his pacing and swearing at his absent partner in order to answer his phone. He knew who it was.
"Starsky" he said roughly.
"'lo." Hutch said softly into the sticky black mouthpiece.
"Damn it, Hutch. You got a hell of a nerve callin' me after ya walked out on me like that."
"I know." Hutch swiveled uncomfortably on the wooden seat in the phone booth. Starsky heard the distant sounds of laughter and glasses clinking. Juke box music filled in the background.
"You know. You in a bar, Hutch? You drinkin' your sorrows away?"
"Yeah, I mean no. No sorrows. I mean. I think this is a bar. Yeah, there's a bar. I can see one. Didn't order a drink, just change for the phone." Starsky heard the 'ding, ding, kerchink' of Hutch feeding a lot of change into the phone.
"Look, Hutch. I don't know whassamattawit that overactive mind of yours. You came on to me, Boy. You got all lovin' and carein' and touchy and feely jus 'cause we almost bought it today. You kissed me, Hutch. YOU kissed ME! Then bolted! It's been three hours, Hutch. That ain't fair. I didn't throw your ass out. Did ya even notice that? You know I'm your partner first, no mattawhat and I worry about ya."
"Sorry, ssss... so sorry, Starsk." Hutch whispered into the phone. He reached over and closed the heavy glass folding door with a small groan. The muffled noise helped his aching head. The wood booth smelled of skunky beer and chewed gum, but it grew warm with his breath and helped the chill in his bones.
"Sorry? That's all ya gotta say? Sorry, Starsk? What's wrong with ya, Blondie? You are such a Virgo ya know that? Minnie was tellin' me all about it. The virgin water bearer. Analytical. Fussy. Inflexible. And I'm the ram, Aries. I'm impulsive. Short tempered. That's why we butt heads, you and me. But you're also loyal, reliable and strong. Always pourin' yourself all over my hot head. Hutch? Ya there?"
Hutch had closed his eyes listening to his partners voice. He was floating away on the sweet nonsensical words. He forgot to answer.
"Yeah, Starsky. I'm here. I hear you. I shouldn't have run away from you. I...I just needed find myself, ya know. I wasn't acting like me. Like your best friend. I...I'm so scared, Starsk."
Starsky's anger dissipated at the sound of Hutch's weary voice. It was replaced with a sudden dread in his heart for Hutch's welfare.
"Buddy, listen to me. Everything's alright, really. See, I liked it, baby. I loved it. I want this. I want to try this."
Starsky moved the receiver to his other ear and smiled mischievously.
"You're fine Hutch. Like fine wine. And all mine. I liked the taste ya gave me, it was divine!"
Starsky laughed.
Hutch was floating again.
"Starsk... I love you... so much..."
Starsky frowned. Enough talk.
"Come home, Blintz. Come on home right now, my love."
Hutch sighed into the phone and answered with a far away tone.
"My love. That sounds so nice. Come and get your love. Will you come and get your love, babe?"
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Hell, what's the matter don't ya feel right?
Don't ya feel right, baby?
Hell, oh yeah, get it from the main vine, alright
I said-a find it, find it, darling, love it if you like it, yeah
Hell, it's your business if you want some
Take some, get it together baby
"What? You feelin' alright? Come get you? Baby, I got what you need right here.I got the main vine. You come and get YOUR love. You're gonna like it, my little blond Virgo. It's your business if ya want somea this. No one else. Don't be afraid, you're gonna like it. I know it. So get it together and head home. I want my blond beauty home."
Hutch sighed. The operator came on the line.
"Please deposit ten cents for the next five minutes."
Hutch put his last three dimes in the phone.
"Starsk?"
"Here, babe."
"Can't come home. Got in an accident. Dog ran out in front of me. I hit a light pole."
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
"WHAT! Hutch! Why didn't ya say... you okay? You hurt?"
"Head hurts. Wrist. Think I broke a rib."
"Jeez! Hutch! Okay, okay, don't panic."
"Not panicking, Starsk. Got you on the phone."
"Ummmm... Jeez! Where are ya?"
"Phone booth. Smelly, wooden, rotary dial phone booth. Listen." Hutch dialed a few numbers and counted the clicks. He always liked to do that.
"Hutch? Babe? Don't play with the phone. You hit your head? Are you bleeding?"
Starsky was pulling at his hair. The time would run out and he had no idea where Hutch was yet.
"No blood. Feel like shit though. Are you ever going to come get me?"
"Hutch! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"
"Owwwwww. My head! Do not shout at me. I thought I was fine and divine and all mine... I mean yours. I'm still at the same bar. I haven't moved. Come and get your love, love."
Hutch giggled and dropped the phone.
Starsky bit his tongue, literally and tried to remain calm.
"Hutch? Can you see the bartender?"
"Is he the guy behind the bar?"
"Yes, Hutch. Call him over. I want to talk to him."
It seemed like an eternity while Starsky listened to the sounds of his seriously concussed partner opening doors dropping the phone and calling, "Barkeep! My friend wants a word."
The slightly annoyed bartender gave directions to the bar and listened to Detective Starsky's explanation and demands. Watch his partner, keep him there, don't let him sleep. The bartender agreed and hoped for a big tip. He handed the phone back to Hutch.
Starsky was able to whisper, "I'm coming to get ya, love." before the line went dead.
Starsky placed the Mars light on the roof and floored the Torino. During the drive Hutch's words ran over and over in his mind.
Come and get your love, come and get your love
Come and get your love now
Come and get your love, come and get your love
Come and get your love now
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Starsky arranged for the local police precinct to tow Hutch's car. They weren't too happy about the abandoned LTD littering their streets. But after some pleading the brothers in blue came through. Starsky found Hutch in the wooden phone booth, the phone still buzzing in his ear. He poured Hutch into the Torino and held his good hand till they arrived at the ER. Several hours later an exhausted Hutch sporting a cast on his wrist and forearm, a bandage around his broken rib and an ice pack for his aching head, finally made it home.
Hell, what's the matter don't ya feel right?
Don't ya feel right, baby?
Hell, oh yeah, get it from the main vine, alright
"Hutch? You comfy on the couch? Ya want somethin' to eat before ya go to bed? How about I make ya some tea, huh? Buddy?"
Hutch moved just enough to put the now warm ice pack down on the coffee table.
"Starsky?"
Starsky was rattling pans in the kitchen.
"Starsk?"
Hutch smiled, lowered his voice and said, "Love?"
Starsky peeked around the door frame a grin lit up his face.
"You called?"
Hutch beckoned with the Hutchinson finger.
"Come and get your love, Starsk."
La, la, la.... (come and get your love)
La, la, la.... (come and get your love)
La, la, la.... (come and get your love)
La, la, la.... (come and get your love)
La, la, la.... (come and get your love)
La, la, la....