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Those socks Toby gave Chris in 4Giveness (episode 5 of S6) were one of the the saddest things I've ever seen on Oz. Nonetheless, in my Oz universe many of the events portrayed in S6 are fictitious. Definitely certain ones in the last couple of episodes. This short piece occurs after Chris and Toby's release.
Warnings: Relationship analysis. This is unbeta-ed.


by Rosybug

Toby and Chris were playing a new type of chess, during a session with their new type of therapist. They sat on the couch facing her, side by side. She had unwisely asked them what was bothering them most about their relationship right now.

"Socks," said Chris.

"Ovarian cancer," said Toby.

"Marion," said Chris.

"Parole," said Toby.

"Check," admitted Chris.

"What?" said the therapist.

"But let's backtrack," said Toby, licking his lips at making the victory conclusive. "What about the appeal?"

Chris hesitated.

"Confession," he retorted at last.

"Shemin," Toby began again.

"Who?" inquired Chris blankly.



"Hypocrite. What about Howell?"

"You got no idea what you're talking about," Chris assured Toby, "that was nothin' like Katherine."

"That's not what I heard," said Toby.

"For fuck's sake, I thought she could help us," countered Chris. "What about Said?"

"What?" shouted Toby.

"Or Pete," Chris prodded.

"Are you crazy?" Toby demanded.

"Socks," repeated Chris, folding his arms with an air of finality.

"Well, I'm sorry I ever got you those goddamned socks," Toby snarled.

The therapist took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Neither of her clients had said "Ronnie". Neither of them had said "Gary", either, or "Andrew", or "Hank", or "Vern", or "I told you so". But the therapist didn't know that.

"And what about those fucking nursery rhymes?" Chris said, digging for more.

"At least they were better than your fucking tattoo stories that didn't make any sense," Toby countered.

"At least I'm not living with my mother at the age of forty," Chris retorted.

"You're such a bitch," said Toby, stung.

"I thought that was your job," Chris said laconically.

"I'm not a bitch!" Toby yelled.

"You're so hot when you're mad, baby," Chris purred, "let's get take-out and have dinner at my place."

"We never go out anymore," muttered Toby.

"Time's up," said the therapist with visible relief.

She could hear them bickering up the corridor outside about whether to have Chinese or Italian.

"I've got to learn to say no to Pete," she thought to herself as she closed the door on them.

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