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Still Living in the Past

by Erin

Sequel to `New Loves, Old Tricks'. It's set in Season 6. Disclaimers: Oz characters and dialogue taken from `Junkyard Dawgs' belong to Fontana and HBO. I'm just playing for no profit. Posted: January 2005.

`Still Living in the Past' by Erin.

//"Toby, I promise at some point you're gonna end up on a chair with me on top of you."//

I never kept that promise to Toby. Not `cause I didn't want to, that's for damn sure. But the day after that incredible night we spent together was the day his dad came to visit and Toby asked him to find Hank Schillinger. So our plans kind of got lost in all the shit that started after that - the two of us fighting; me getting shot; the kidnapping; Toby trying to kill me and becoming the Em City slut.

I still loved him though. I couldn't stop. My love for him and his love for me carried me through Cedar Junction and Death Row. It's carried both of us all the way to this point.

This point is me standing here staring at his unconscious form; his closed eyes, his lolling head. It's the first chance I've had to look at him - *really* look at him - in months, because he always turns away from me now. Toby doesn't love me anymore. He isn't the man who gave me wild chair sex as a thankyou for simply loving him, anymore.

But I still love him. I always did and I always will. And it may be more than three years too late - but I *always* keep my promises to him.

I press my forehead to his and push his head up on his slack neck, enjoying the closeness of him, closeness that's been denied to me for too damn long. I'd almost forgotten just how fucking good he smells. I bring my hand up to his face......


"Time to wake up, Toby."

He comes to with a sudden jerk. His eyes fly open, startled at first, then glaring at me. I can see he remembers what happened - how I came after him with the shank and knocked him out. Yet another betrayal for poor old Toby, huh? He *knows* I got him put back in here on purpose - but I'm not gonna admit to it. Not until I make it up to him by getting rid of Schillinger. Not until he sees that it wasn't a betrayal - I did it for love. *Our* love.

He's enraged, like I knew he would be. He starts screaming at me, and he's making a *lot* of fucking noise despite the thick black tape I put across his mouth.

"Shhhhh." I raise the shank in my right hand to his face, holding it threateningly in front of his eyes. It shuts him up. Good - he's not gonna ruin this by getting us caught, not when I went to so much goddamn trouble setting it up.

"Just like the old days, huh, you as my bitch?"

His eyes are full of so much hate. It kills me, but I know I can change that. I know I can make him love me again. "Fuck you," comes the muffled reply from behind the tape.

"Fuck me," I agree slowly. //Oh hell yeah, Toby, fuck me. Do you know how much I'm aching for it? Aching for you love me, love *it*, as much as you did that night after lockdown? Why else do you think I've got you handcuffed to a chair right now, baby?//

I pull the other shank out of my pocket with my left hand and hold both of them in front of his face. I continue the little mindfuck I started with him before I knocked him out.

"Fake......real......or did I get them mixed up? Let's see."

He lets out a yell as I plunge the shank in my right hand into his abdomen. Of course it's the fake one and does no damage. I still can't believe he thinks I'd actually kill him.

I throw the fake shank aside, squat down in front of him and put my hand on his shoulder. I keep the real shank in my left hand pointed at his neck to keep him quiet.

"I hope I've got your attention now." //Now, after months of you blatantly ignoring me, ignoring what we have//. "Toby, Schillinger wants you dead. That's no secret right?"

I lean forward to whisper in his ear, they way I used to when we were lying in bed together. "I told him that I would do it. Ask me why."

He doesn't want to ask me; still doesn't wanna hear what I have to say. Stubborn little fucker. I could so easily kill him right now. But I won't. Because of all that we've shared. Because of the memory of that night we had together, when Toby gave me so much more than just amazing sex; when he gave me the kind of love I'd been dreaming about all my life. Even without the rest of what we've gone through together, for that night alone I couldn't kill him now.

I push the shank against his throat to make him answer.

"Why?" Even muffled he sounds frightened.

"To keep you alive." He's surprised. //Fuck you Toby, don't you *know* what I'd do for you? How could you not know by now?// "That's right, I've been pretending to be Schillinger's butt buddy to keep you safe, so that you and I would know of his plans."

I move around to stand behind him and stroke his head softly. It feels so fucking good to touch him. God, I want his love back so bad. Love, like that night when he gave himself to me so completely...I want that back so bad my insides are aching. "But I know how...bullheaded you are. I knew that if I had told you, you wouldn't believe me."

I move back in front of him to look him in the eye. His beautiful eyes, that once upon a time were so full of love for me. They will be again, I'm sure of it. "I concocted this whole goddamned thing just to convince you that I'm on the up and up."

Time for one last mindfuck before I show him how things really are between us, how they're *always* gonna be... I stab the shank through the air. "Now if I was really siding with Schillinger, Toby..." I turn the shank sideways so it lands flat against his chest, harmless, "...you'd be dead already."

I throw the shank aside and unlock his handcuffs. "But instead, all I really want..." I straddle his hips so I'm sitting in his lap the way he sat in mine on that night so long ago, "...is for you to love me again."

I quickly tear the tape off his face and cover his mouth with my own before he has a chance to make a sound. Oh God, I'm kissing him, I'm kissing *Toby* again after dreaming about it for so long and it feels so fucking good. His soft lips and tongue are heaven and he tastes as sweet as I remember.

He doesn't want this. He's struggling, resisting, but he can't pull away with my hands tightly gripping both sides of his head. //Fuck, baby, just give in, give in to me. This is the way it's gotta be, can't you see that? This is the way it was then and it's the way it will always be. What we had was so perfect once, and it can be that way again//.

I'm grinding my crotch hard and fast against his, just the way he likes it, and I can feel him starting to give up the fight as his desire flares. He's kissing me back and his cock is stiffening against mine. He still hates me, probably even more so now for making him want this. The kisses are hard, bruising, painful. He keeps clawing at my back and arms, pounding me with his fists, and digging his short nails into my skin, hard enough to sting.

I reach down between us to unzip his fly and pull his cock out. He makes a strangled sound, half-rage, half-desire, as I grip and pull his hard, exposed length. He's bucking his hips wildly, eyes squeezed tight shut; he doesn't want to look at me, he doesn't want to acknowledge that this is happening. I want to say something, to make him admit what he's doing, but I know one word from me will break the spell - he'll shove me off him and run out. So I say nothing. I slide off his lap and take his cock into my mouth in one quick movement. He gasps and thrusts hard into my throat, almost making me gag. //Jesus, how long's it been, baby? Knew you were missing me//. Toby grabs my head hard, ruthlessly fucking my mouth, holding nothing back. He's really starting to hurt me, but I let him because I know he needs it; he needs to get back at me, feel power over me.

I only pull away when I feel like I'll choke if I don't. I'm spluttering slightly and the look of grim satisfaction in his angry, slitted eyes is enough to make me wanna hit him. I yank down my pants before he has a chance to say anything, and climb back on top of him, bare-ass naked, except for my wifebeater.

I already prepared myself with lube before I came here, so I get straight to lowering myself slowly onto his stiff cock. Toby is in no mood for slow - he grabs my hips roughly and shoves me down hard. I hiss at the pain of it, but he doesn't even give me time to recover before he's thrusting his hips up in quick, painful jerks.

"Toby - " I begin, but he takes my mouth in a another bruising, biting kiss, swallowing my moans. It isn't like it was before. There's still love here, but there's too much pain and anger and hurt for it to be like that. Toby is punishing me and I'm letting him, because if that's what it takes to get him to forgive me then so fucking be it. Besides, as painful as it is, there are the continuing jolts of pleasure as his cock rams into my prostate. I know how good it feels for him - I still remember how it felt for me when the situation was reversed; his weight pushing down on me, dragging me further into him than ever before; his tight, hot muscles pulling and squeezing as he rocked back and forth. It's no wonder Toby is grunting and coming inside me within half a minute.

I reach down and quickly stroke myself to completion while he's still shuddering, because with him this crazy he's likely throw me off him while I'm still hard. I gasp as I come and rest my forehead against his. We sit there for a few moments, absorbing the aftershocks of what we've just done. I finally speak, whispering, "I told you I'd do this for you someday."

He just stares at me and I know he's remembering that night, remembering how much he loved me before I fucked up his parole and his life (or so he sees it). The expression on his face is so pained that I lean forward and kiss him softly on the lips. "I love you, Toby."

And just like that, the spell's broken. He pushes me off him, hard enough so I land on the floor. His eyes are blazing with anger as he throws himself on top of me, fists flying. "Don't fucking say that!" he screams, "How could you love me and do what you did? How could you do any of this?!"

I manage to block most of the punches to my face, knowing he's just as angry at himself as he is at me. I should hit him back, but I don't. I need him to forgive me. I need him to love me. Hell, I just *need* him.

"What the *fuck* is going on here?"

The wild punches stop abruptly as Toby spins around to look at Suzanne, who's staring in the doorway looking surprised. He turns away from her without a word, standing up and tucking his cock back into his pants. She looks at me, still sprawled half-naked on the floor. I give her a nonchalant smile and say, "Just a little harmless fun between two consenting adults."

She looks unimpressed as Toby walks out without looking at her or me. I can see the tenseness in his body as he walks though. He's still mad at me, but he won't be forever. Toby always forgives me eventually, and he will this time too. He loves me too much not to. My own words echo in my memory, "Sooner or later Beecher'll be mine."

Suzanne follows Toby out, leaving me to clean myself up, and get dressed. I do so with hope in my heart. Because this little encounter has made me believe more than ever that Toby will take me back. As soon as I'm done with Operation Vern I'm doing whatever I have to to get transferred back to Em City. Toby won't be able to keep saying no to me when we're back together, the way we should be. Toby will forgive me, I *know* he will. I'm gonna make him love me again or die trying.


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