Detective Sgt. Dee Dee McCall, a misfit, was assigned to partner with Detective Sgt. Rick Hunter, an in-kind cop. They both played fast and loose with the rules but not with each other.
In one episode, her pert, size six summer skirt (with her inside it) was slammed on a table flattening it to the floor. In another episode she was rolled unceremoniously out of the bed of a pickup truck, splayed on the asphalt as contemptuously as a deer carcass.
She handily gave (a roundhouse right) as good as she got: broken noses, busted jaws, and belly punches sending clueless crims sprawling.
When Sgt. Hunter groused about getting this new partner, one of his fellow detectives called out from the bull-pen “What, McCall? She’s a brass cupcake.”
Despite Hunter financing a generation of stunt-car drivers the program centered on the friendship between a woman and a man when feminism was still an unmentionable.
The best lines, producing laughs, the best stills, invoking smiles, a hard-bitten cop-show playing out the line a man and a woman were equals.
Grey Sparrow Journal 