Summary: Picking up right after the events in Hopscotch, Starsky and Hutch decide to quit the force. They start a private investigation business, which is taking its time getting off the ground. They accept a missing person case from a rodeo cowboy who is more than anxious they find his friend. Story Notes: This is the third novel in the CopKiller Trilogy. The prequel to this story is Hopscotch. The first novel in the series is CopKiller. Special thanks to M H E Priest for help in uploading this story to the archive. Categories: Gen Genre: Action/Adventure, Art, E-Book, Series, Zinefic Warnings: Author Chooses Not to Use Archive Warnings ____________________________________________________ Intro Archivist's Note from Hopscotch's First Archive Posting in 1995: Teri White was one of the first of S&H's fandom's classic zine writers to give us permission to post all her fanfiction to the Archive. Her only caveat was that we include the art as well. With permission of those artists, we've done that. We never anticipated that it would take so much time to bring Teri's stories to the Net, but finally, her work will be seen by fans of Starsky & Hutch all over the world. It is with great respect and appreciation that we present the zine, My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys. This is the third in a series of three novels -- Copkiller, Hopscotch, and My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys -- that share the same "universe." Classic Starsky & Hutch zine fiction starts on paper, has to be scanned or typed, proof-read and corrected, turned into html, proof-read again, then set up on the Archive. Thanks go to SHaron for scanning and proofing this zine, and to Myha for not eating the entire last page of the zine when it was accidentally left within range of her inquisitive teeth. I especially want to thank Ruth Kurz for granting us approval to post her art. And of course, many thanks to Teri for graciously allowing us to bring her work to a whole new audience. ____________________________________________________ MY HEROES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN COWBOYS A Starsky and Hutch Novel by TERI WHITE Cover and Interior Art by Ruth Kurz Published in 1980 by Teri White. ____________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________ This one is for Hutch I keep picturing all these little kids in this big field of rye.... If they're running and they don't look where they're going, I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. J.D. SALINGER With thanks to: William Blinn Joe Narr Paul Michael Glaser David Soul And gratitude for special inspiration to: C.E. Song Credits Cowboys and Clowns--S. Garrett My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys--Vaughn Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys--Bruce Too Old To Play Cowboy--Morrison I've Done Enough Dyin' Today--Gatlin Andy's Song--Andy Jones (A.K.A. Ruth Kurz) ____________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________ MY HEROES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN COWBOYS by TERI WHITE PROLOGUE It was a long way down the mountain into the city. They made most of the journey in silence. Conversation, by unstated mutual agreement, waited until they were sitting in the White Castle, two cheeseburgers, a Coke, and a glass of milk on the counter in front of them. Starsky sprinkled salt on his french fries, then added a dollop of catsup. "I don't think we should go back to the department," he said finally. Hutch took a swig of milk and wiped at his upper lip with the back of one hand. "You really don't?" Starsky, his mouth full, shook his head. "Okay," Hutch said. A look of surprise flickered through the amethystine eyes as Starsky swallowed. "That's it? Just 'okay'?" Hutch picked up his cheeseburger and studied it ruefully for a moment. "You were expecting an argument?" he asked before giving in to the inevitable and taking a bite. Starsky shrugged. "Or maybe you wanted an argument. Maybe what you really want is for me to talk you out of quitting. Is this the point where I'm supposed to get all gung-ho, remind you of the nobility of it all, and lead you by the hand back to the promised land of the Los Angeles Police Department?" They were both quiet for a moment, more involved with the food than their future, although Starsky's brow was wrinkled thoughtfully as he ate. At last, he took a gulp of Coke. "No," he said. "I don't think that's what I want. I really think we ought to bug out while we still can. While we both still can. Together." "Okay," Hutch said again. He took one of Starsky's fries and tried to shake off some of the catsup. "It's not exactly a new idea, you know. I wanted to quit after Lionel was killed. Maybe I got tired of it all a long time before that, even." "Why didn't you quit a long time ago then?" Hutch glanced at him. "Don't know. Guess maybe I was just waiting for you to get tired, too." "Well, I'm tired." Starsky took another huge bite of the cheeseburger. "I'm tired," he repeated through the mouthful. "It just ain't noble anymore." "I guess that makes it unanimous." Hutch shook his head. "Kind of anti-climactic." "Not with a bang, but with a whimper," Starsky said somewhat unexpectedly. The blond's expression was glum. "There'll be a bang, all right," he said. "When we tell Dobey." "You think so?" Starsky pushed the last fry around the edge of the plate to sop up the remaining catsup. "Don't you?" "Huh-uh. I think he already knows." Hutch thought about that as he finished the milk. "Maybe so," he agreed. "It's okay, then? That we don't go back?" "Suits me." Starsky relaxed a little. "Dinner's on me," he said magnanimously, reaching for the check. The street outside the hamburger joint was crowded with people -- tourists, hookers, creeps, all the regulars beginning to gather for the usual evening festivities of night-time in Hollywood. A street musician entertained by playing several of his own esoteric compositions on a battered harmonica. Starsky paused long enough to buy an Orange Julius. "Dessert," he explained. Hutch shook his head. "So," he said as they moved on, sidestepping a couple in the advanced stages of some complicated courtship rite in the middle of the sidewalk. "If we're not gonna be cops anymore, what'll we do? Head for the unemployment office again?" "Nope." Starsky slurped more of the thick orange mess through the straw, looking back over his shoulder. "They're not gonna do that there, are they?" he asked, his eyes still on the couple. "Why? You want to bust 'em?" "No. Thought I'd watch." "Your latent voyeurism is showing, buddy." Starsky scowled at him. "Did you snitch my Improve Your Vocabulary in Sixty Days book?" "No. Picked those up in Ann Landers. Back to my question, Starsk If we're not going back on the force, what'll we do?" "A good question. I guess making porn flicks is still out, huh?" "I guess." They grinned at one another. Starsky crumpled the paper cup and dropped it into a litter basket. "Okay," he said briskly. "Time for a little serious consideration of our future." He glanced quickly at Hutch, then away. "I say future, not futures, 'cause I figure we should stick together." "Sure," Hutch said. "I figure that same thing. Why mess with success?" He nodded hello to a hooker who looked vaguely familiar. "The first order of business is to move out of that place on the hill." Starsky looked disappointed. "Really? I like it there." "Well, so do I," Hutch agreed, "but there are two very good reasons why we can't stay there." "What are they?" Starsky was engaged in a solitary game of kick-the-can as they walked. "One, it's too expensive. Our money isn't going to last forever." "That's valid. What's the second reason?" "Two is the fact that -- much as I love you, Starsk -- I'm not really ready for us to set up permanent housekeeping together." "Also valid," Starsky said. "And you'll be glad to know that my feelings aren't too hurt." "Good. So tomorrow we each start looking for less palatial quarters. The next question is, how do we intend to support our various vices? Like eating." Starsky gave the can a final kick and it angled off the curb, landing in the gutter. "I've got that all figured out," he said smugly. Hutch looked at him. "You have?" "Sure. I've just been waiting for you to ask " "So now I'm asking. What's your idea?" There was a dramatic pause. "We're going to become private detectives." Starsky's tone might have been suitable for announcing that the Messiah had arrived at last. Hutch let a few moments pass. They both watched as a very pretty, very young girl in hot pants and a tight sweater got into a car driven by a middle-aged man. The blue-eyed ex-cop sighed, before returning his attention to his partner. "You really mean that, don't you?" "Sure. Why not?" They turned a corner and started climbing. "I could probably give you a lot of reasons why it's a good idea -- a great idea, in fact -- but it all comes down to one thing, really." "Which is what? Besides the fact that you've always had this compulsion to be Sam Spade?" "What the hell else are we qualified for?" Hutch couldn't argue with that logic.