Starsky picked up the picture of the Torino. Minnie had taken a photo of the two of them on the roof of the new car. Ignoring Starsky's protests, Hutch had dragged him up. The red and white stripes glistened in the afternoon sun, and with their arms wrapped around each other, the partners oozed self-confidence.

A lot had happened since then. The car was wrecked, the shininess gone. Their hope of a better world put in perspective. What was left?

“Dinner’s ready. What about laying the table, highness?” Hutch called from the kitchen.

Starsky smiled. He knew what was left.

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