His bones still ached from when Metzger and that fuck Schillinger broke his arms and legs. It hadn't been so bad in late July when he'd heard the clang of prison doors slamming behind him for the very last time, the summer heat wrapping around him like a lost friend found once again. October, the weather was already turning cold, and the pain was like an unwelcome house guest who just wouldn't leave.

The dull ache was bearable, almost unnoticeable, in the constant temperature in Oz. Without windows to see the seasons change, with only clocks and buzzers to tick away time, Oz was more like an animal habitat than a place where humans lived. Only on the outside, where the summer heat caused an almost pleasurable throb, and the autumn rains caused a maddening pain, did the old breaks serve as a relentless reminder.

Toby faced the coming winter with apprehension. He knew he wasn't adjusting to life outside of prison. There was a time when he sat around with his cronies, drinking good scotch, and yakking about prison recidivism like he knew something about it. Toby looked back at his younger self and felt a weary impatience for the weak, privileged asshole he used to be.

Toby could never be that man again; more than just his limbs had been broken in Oz.

He wasn't sure he could ever get back to something approaching normal. Sitting on a park bench, watching Holly and Harry playing on a merry-go-round, the air too cool, the sky too overcast for most people to bring their kids out, Toby wondered what kind of life he could possibly make for them.

A loud squawk drew his attention to a tall man bending over a toddler on a plastic spring mounted horse. Though she kicked her feet with abandon, she hadn't quite got the hang of rocking the horse yet. Toby couldn't help but smile as he watched the man help matters along by bouncing the horse for her.

Bored, the toddler slid off the horse only to clamber onto an elephant. As the man turned to follow the girl, his gaze caught Toby's. Embarrassed, Toby felt his smile falter, but the man was already smiling back. A memory flash of Dino Ortolani advising him not to smile so much, and Toby really couldn't hold the pleasant expression any more. Turning back to his kids, he watched as Harry sped across the playground to the climb the ladder of the big slide that he loved so much.

---

A chill breeze caressed the nape of Chris's neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He'd found a sweater in the closet for Dani, but he wondered if it was warm enough. Maybe he shouldn't have brought her out to the park on a day so dreary and overcast, but he hadn't known what else to do with her.

That was typical of the last few months since Bonnie had died.

Most of the time he was simply clueless, floundering around until, more by accident than anything else, he found a solution. But that was no way to raise a kid. That was no way to do any damn thing if you wanted to do it right.

He knew he was making mistakes, like not knowing if he was keeping his kid warm enough. Or if he was feeding her the right foods. Or if that babysitter was really as bad as Chris suspected she was. And what the hell was he supposed to do about it when he was already missing a day of work because she decided not to take Dani that morning?

Looking around, Chris noted a cluster of kids around the monkey bars, their mothers on a bench beyond. There were another couple of kids on a merry-go-round, and not too far from them, a man on a bench, watching them. Must be their dad.

He studied the only other man in the park, the khaki pants and tan jacket, the short hair. Is that what a real dad was supposed to look like? All bland and beige and as exciting as a bowl of oatmeal. Chris's father had never looked like that - then again, the old man wasn't exactly Father of the Year material either.

Dani drew his attention, squawking and kicking her feet, trying to get the plastic horse thing to rock, but not quite getting there. Chris bounced the thing, making Dani laugh.

Straightening up, Chris caught the gaze of the man sitting on the bench and discovered that he wasn't Mister Bland and Boring after all. He had a sweet smile and amazing blue eyes that put the lowering sky to shame.

Abruptly, the smile disappeared, like a door closing. Interest piqued, Chris followed Dani to the plastic elephant, already plotting how he was going to meet the other man.

---

It was hard to ignore the man in the blue Henley and tight jeans. Fathers usually brought their kids to the park on the weekends when it was too crowded and noisy for Toby to stand without getting the shakes. Once had been more than enough.

Weekdays were much quieter, mostly young mothers and their toddlers, a few nannies or au pairs with their charges, a few children not at school for whatever reason, like Holly and Harry.

The man would have stood out even if he hadn't been the only other man there. He was heavily muscled, but for all that, he moved with a grace that drew Toby's eyes again and again. There was an ease, a physical confidence about him that Toby wished he had himself.

An aggravated shout drew his attention from the man leaning down to pick up his little girl. Holly stood with her hands on her hips, scowling at Harry - there must have been some kind of altercation between them again. Holly glared at the two young boys playing on the monkey bars, and turned her nose up at them. Stomping over to the swings, she proceeded to pump herself high into the air. Harry stuck his tongue out at her, and went over to the monkey bars to play with the boys.

Considering the four year age difference, it was a wonder they got along at all. Usually, they did, but they'd been out of sorts with each other and with Toby for over a week - ever since Toby's argument with their grandmother. Once again, she had tried to manipulate him into doing something he knew he wasn't ready for. She asked Toby to take the kids for the weekend, saying that she wanted a getaway with her husband. Toby snorted. As if Harrison Beecher would really take a weekend off for some getaway.

She probably thought that asking him to take Holly and Harry for the weekend while they were standing right there would force his hand, that he would have to do it or risk disappointing them. In the end, Toby'd had no choice. It was an impossible request when he could barely make it through a night without waking from a nightmare. He was still furious that she'd put him on the spot like that.

He was making up for it today. Holly's school was having a half day, so Toby asked his mother if he could take Holly for the day. Harry figured that if Holly didn't have to go to school, then neither did he. Guilt at arguing with Toby in front of them made her agree to letting the kids play hooky with their dad for the afternoon.

Childish giggles, and a sudden movement startled Toby badly enough that he jumped in his seat. The man was holding his daughter high in the air, spinning her around. She wasn't the least afraid, laughing and flapping her arms as her dad grinned up at her and he twirled her some more.

Toby had done that with Holly a long time ago, and Gary, but never with Harry. There were a lot of things he'd missed out on with Harry, but he quickly derailed that train of thought. It never led anywhere good.

Even as small as the toddler was, it took strength and balance to do what the man was doing. He swooshed her down, then up again, then down, finally landing her on her feet. She wobbled for a moment on unsteady legs, then plopped down on her butt. Toby couldn't help laughing.

The man must have heard him because he turned his grin on Toby, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes inviting Toby in on the fun. Amused, Toby shook his head. A man with a smile like that meant trouble, and Toby had had enough of that to last a lifetime. He turned away, only to see Holly approach the man.

---

For all the trouble involved in taking care of a kid, there were some distinct advantages that occasionally made up for it. A kid could be a great prop for getting attention, getting sympathy, getting a lot of things.

Now he had a little blond girl walking up to him, and no mistake, she was the other guy's daughter. Chris was already halfway to getting an introduction to Mister Not So Bland and Boring.

"Can I play with her, mister?"

"Holly!"

And there he was, coming right to Chris - it was always better when you could get your mark to come to you. The mark was much better looking than at first glance. He moved at a brisk pace, something in the line of his shoulders or maybe the clench of his hands signaled danger, though Chris didn't exactly know why. There was muscle under all that beige, too.

He came to a stop in front of Chris, mouth open to speak, but before he could, Chris held out his hand. "Chris Keller."

Staring like he'd never shaken a hand before in his life, he hesitated for a long moment before putting his hand in Chris's. "Um... Tobias Beecher. But everyone calls me Toby."

Nice, firm grip. Warm hand reminding Chris that he probably should have worn a jacket. Inexplicably, he didn't want to let go, but Toby's hand slipped away leaving Chris weirdly disappointed.

"Holly, you don't just walk up to strangers in the park." Toby turned to Chris. "She really does know better."

"Hey, it's okay. If she wants to play with Dani, she can."

With a triumphant toss of her head, she all but snatched Dani away. "Let's go play on the swings."

The two men wandered after the girls, then Chris helped belt Dani into the baby swing. With the girls occupied, Chris went to stand next to this guy Toby, surreptitiously studying him with little sideways glances.

For all his blandness, Toby's clothes were of good quality, especially the shoes. Expensive hair cut, too. Clean shaved, clean cut. Still, there was something a bit off that Chris couldn't quite pinpoint. But a mark was a mark, and it was about time Chris got his hand back in the game.

Chris had kept his nose clean these last few months while Bonnie was sick, but a regular nine to five job wasn't Chris's style. The money at the garage was good, but he hated being tied down, having to call in or make excuses if he had to miss work, like today.

This guy, Tobias Beecher, was just what he needed.

---

This guy, Chris Keller was standing way too close; they were practically shoulder to shoulder, and it made Toby nervous. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, still feeling the faint pressure of the hand shake.

It had been rude letting Keller stand there with his hand hanging, but Toby honestly couldn't understand what he wanted at first. You just didn't shake hands in prison. Bump fists, slap palms, hell - even hug, but shake hands? No.

Just another of the many normal things that Toby would have to relearn. Ironic that a common social gesture he had learned in childhood and had reinforced as a lawyer, was something that felt strange to him now.

Someone being friendly for no other reason than that their kids were playing together in the park felt strange, too. Not everyone was out to get him, use him. He wasn't in prison any more and he had to stop acting that way. Starting now.

---

"That's my daughter, Holly."

Happy to have another opening being handed to him, Chris turned to face Toby. "That's Dani. Short for Danielle. But you won't hear me using anything but Dani."

Toby's posture had changed, loosening up, hands uncurling, relaxing bit by bit. And that's what had been pinging Chris's radar - in spite of the smiles, Toby's body had been tight, guarded.

"I guess your wife picked her name."

"Yeah, she got it from a romance novel she read when she was sixteen." They shared a smile. "Bonnie's not around any more. I'm a widower."

No more smile, and there went that tight posture again. Toby ducked his head, a storm of emotion passed over his face before his expression settled into bland sympathy.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It couldn't have been too long ago for you. I lost my wife nearly three years ago."

So they had something else in common, though technically the papers for their second divorce were signed when Bonnie had been diagnosed with cancer. It was Chris who had taken care of her all those months when she was sick, so he'd earned the right to take a few liberties with the truth.

"I'm sorry." But Toby was watching his daughter without seeing her. Chris touched Toby's arm, making him jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay."

Muscles flexed under Chris's hand as Toby struggled to not pull away. He left his hand there, a casual touch, and waited to see what Toby would do next.

---

While every instinct told him to jerk his arm out of the light grip and punch this stranger in the face, Toby forced himself to relax. It was a friendly touch, not at all intrusive, but when any touch could end with a shank to the gut or a beat down, it was hard not to give in to the reflexes honed over the past three years.

Living with this prison mentality was the primary reason he hadn't accepted custody of his kids, or even allowed them to spend nights at his place. When a simple touch from a stranger had him going up on his toes primed for battle, he knew he wasn't ready to take them full time. It would be nice if his parents would get that through their heads.

Heart beat slowing down, Toby took a deep breath, and suddenly realized Keller was close enough that he could smell him. Clean, masculine scent, faint hint of laundry detergent and something unusual. Car engine?

"What kind of work do you do?" Toby blurted out. Damn, he was real smooth today. If he wasn't disbarred, he'd have to turn in his license.

"Work in a garage over on Hilliard. You?"

Great. Now he was going to have to come up with an answer that didn't include the truth.

"Unemployed at the moment." That made him sound like some kind of loser, so he added, "But I don't need to go job hunting just yet. I like being able to spend time with my kids. And I'm considering taking a few classes."

All right, so he hadn't been thinking school until that minute, but it was actually a good idea.

"So what did you do when you were working?"

"Lawyer."

---

Jackpot.

This Toby guy was a lawyer, had enough money that he didn't have to run out and find another job to keep a roof over his head. Could be lying, but Chris didn't think so. He needed to know more.

And he still had his hand on Toby's arm. He was already starting to accept Chris into his space, the first step in training Toby to let him in.

"Don't want to be a lawyer any more?"

"Something like that," he said. Then he pulled away to walk over to Holly to help her get Dani out of the swing, obviously relieved to have an excuse to get his arm back from Chris.

Toby was gentle with Dani as he set her on the ground. Holly led the toddler over to the small slide, chatting to her while Dani listened in quiet fascination. She didn't get many opportunities to play with older kids and she seemed okay with letting Holly be in charge.

Chris followed Toby, letting his gaze wander over those shoulders and down to a very nice ass. He shrugged that idea off. He wasn't into that kind of con any more.

Still.... very nice ass.

---

Holly seemed to be enjoying herself, herding Dani around the baby area of the park, while Toby and Chris followed. Toby made an effort to stay out of reach of Mr. Grabby Hands. He had stopped with the touching for the moment but was always uncomfortably close.

Harry was still playing with a couple of boys on the monkey bars, boys that Toby recognized, though he didn't know their moms personally. Toby waved at the two mothers sitting on the bench on the other side of the park; they waved back, then their heads bent together.

Toby sighed. "You realize they're talking about us, right?"

"Who?"

"The two moms over there."

Chris turned, a big exaggerated grin pasted on his face, and waved vigorously.

Laughing, Toby pulled Keller's arm down. "Cut that out!"

"Give'em something to talk about," Chris said, looking at Toby intently until he realized he was still holding Chris's arm. Jerking his hand away, Toby stepped back.

Damn, now he was getting all handsy.

---

This game was turning out to be a lot more fun than he expected. Chris's first impression had been way off, like Toby was in disguise, trying to blend in. From a distance, he did. Now that Chris was up close - too close for Toby's comfort Chris noted with amusement - he was starting to get glimpses of the real man behind the beige and boring camouflage.

He was jumpy as hell, avoided touch like it hurt him, but there was humor hidden in there, too. There was a gentleness about him with the kids, like he was holding bombs about to go of in his hands. Toby kept an eye on the monkey bars, so one of the boys must be his. Or he was really worried about those two gossips on the bench over there.

"One of those boys yours?"

"Oh, right, I should have said something. That's my son, Harry. He's the youngest."

"Holly's the oldest?"

"She's in the middle. I have an older boy, Gary."

Talking about the oldest boy made Toby uncomfortable, sadness clouding his features. All the lawyers Chris had met had been slick, buttoned up people, but emotionally Toby was all over the map. Something must have happened recently to break his walls down, mess up his filters.

The tan jacket and khaki pants wasn't the real Tobias Beecher. Suddenly, Chris knew he was going to have a blast finding the real man under all that beige.

---

Thinking of Gary always depressed him. Toby only got to see him once a month or so when Gen's parents deigned to make the long drive from Manhattan. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on it, not with this stranger eying him.

The guy, Keller, was just being friendly, normal. They were two dads at the park hanging out with their kids. It was Toby acting paranoid over a little casual conversation. He needed to get his head together, at least pretend he belonged around civilized people.

"Three kids. I can't imagine," Keller said, shaking his head. "I have my hands full with just one."

"I don't have them full time. After my wife died-- " Toby couldn't go on. He didn't owe this guy the real story, but he didn't want to lie either.

The pause went on for a painfully long time, until Keller finally had mercy and shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's tough being a single parent, especially when you don't have anyone to help out." Keller tilted his head at Dani. "That's why I'm here instead of at work. Can't find a decent babysitter."

"Seems to be a problem for most working parents," Toby said.

"I manage." Chris gestured at Holly. "Shouldn't your kids be in school?"

"We're playing hooky today. It's not really a big deal since Harry is only four and Holly's school is having a half day. I'm surprised there aren't more kids around. Her school is just up the road."

"Must be the weather," Chris said, looking up at the sky. It was getting darker, like it might rain, and the wind was picking up. Chris stuffed his hand in his jeans pockets, pulling the faded denim tight across his groin. Embarrassed that he'd even noticed, Toby looked away.

Toby cleared his throat. "We should get moving. I promised the kids pizza for lunch."

"And burgers on Friday night," Holly said, walking up with Dani in tow.

Smiling, Toby ran his hand over Holly's hair. She ducked away with an irritated, "Dad!"

Toby rolled his eyes at her, turning to yell, "Harry! Time to go."

"You can go with us. Does Dani like pizza?" Holly asked Chris. Turning back, Toby realized it was already too late to stop her from inviting these strangers to go with them.

"Wish I could," Chris said. "I've got a couple of errands to run this afternoon."

Relieved, Toby said, "That's a shame."

"Then you can have burgers with us on Friday." Holly looked hopefully at Toby. "Can't they come with us on Friday?"

"Holly, I'm sure Mr. Keller has plans," cuing the man, hoping he would take a hint.

"Actually, I'm not doing a thing on Friday." He smirked at Toby, the asshole. "Single dad. No babysitter." He quirked an eyebrow, enjoying Toby's discomfort way too much. "It'll be nice to get out."

"Fine." Toby glared, but conceded defeat. "You know Big Belly Burger on Vine?"

"Who doesn't? Some of the best burgers in the city."

"We'll be there at six thirty. If you're still interested, you can meet us there."

"Sure. And you can call me Chris." He pulled out his cell phone. "Let me have your number in case there's a change in plans."

Keller, no, Chris got up in his space again as they exchanged numbers, shoulders bumping. If he wasn't wearing a jacket, he'd be able to feel Chris's heat. Toby got out of range as soon as it was polite to do so.

---

Chris picked Dani up and watched Toby gather his kids and walk toward the parking lot. Chris strolled after them, grabbing up Dani's diaper bag on the way. He made it to the parking lot in time to see Toby load the kids into a late model SUV. Breathing deep, he could almost swear he caught a whiff of new-car smell as Toby climbed into the driver's seat.

So he did have money. If nothing else panned out, he'd give Ronnie a heads-up about the vehicle. He'd make a pretty penny off it at the shop. Chris didn't work the night shift, but Ronnie would still give him a commission for spotting the SUV, then send out a kid to boost it.

But he was getting ahead of himself. As he put Dani in her car seat, Chris was already planning his next move on Friday night. If Toby played it too close, he could rely on good ole Holly to give him an in with the Beechers.

---

It was barely dusk and Toby was exhausted, hardly having the energy to get himself out of the SUV and into the house. Shedding his jacket, he flopped on the couch and decided that he'd get a shower later, or maybe in the morning if he fell asleep in the living room.

Christ, all he'd done that day was play with the kids and spend an hour talking to his mother and drinking coffee before driving himself home. Where was the man who had worked sixty hours a week and still played eighteen holes of golf on the weekends? Oh, right. That man ended up in Oz.

Both legs were aching again, so he toed off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, shoving a pillow under his left leg to give it support. He should probably look into seeing a physical therapist again, or maybe get a body massage, though he wasn't comfortable with the idea of hands all over him, stroking bare skin.

It made him think of that guy at the park that morning. Keller. Chris.

That was probably the most anyone had touched him since his parents had hugged him so tight the day he got out of prison. The kids tolerated him for the most part, only spent time with him because he spoiled them. Yet, it upset them that he couldn't take them for more than a few hours at a time. No one ever said kids had to be logical.

Toby sat up, tried to rub away the pain in his legs. He should probably get up and get some aspirin but it was too much effort. Sagging back against the pillow, he squirmed deeper into the cushions.

Tomorrow he would continue his campaign to shake Oz off his back, get his head on straight. He was going to the bookstore for the first time in years, do some browsing in a fairly quiet place, instead of ordering online. He was getting better at being around people, flashing lights, loud noises, sudden movement. Not like those first days out of prison when he'd nearly passed out three steps inside the door of a furniture showroom where he'd gone to buy a bed. If not for Angus's fiancee, he'd still be sleeping on the floor three months later.

With a vague plan outlined for the next day, Toby let his eyes slide shut. Slipping into a light doze, the usual nightmare images didn't creep from out of the dark places where they usually hid. He drifted deeper into sleep, a phantom touch on his arm and a big warm body hovering too close.

Sleep was uneasy, but the nightmares were held at bay until morning.

---

Chris left the baby in her highchair and went to the kitchen sink, leaning his hands on the edge and looking out the window. Dusk was turning into night, the scraggly patch of yard mercifully in shadow, the fence a dark shape that could be anything. He wanted to be out there, riding his bike in the chill night air, leaving his helmet off so the wind could scrub the thoughts out of his head.

Dani was making sounds, stringing them together, but they didn't make sense yet. Her spoon banged against her plate and Chris knew he'd have a mess to clean up. Didn't matter. In a little while, he was going to swish the kid around in the bath tub and put her in the crib. Then read the stupid bed time books that Bonnie made him promise to read to Dani. After that, lights out and time for bed.

Some fucking life.

He needed to get laid. It'd been a month since the last bitch who thought she could get him through his kid walked out, screaming as she dragged her suitcase to her car that if she wanted to be a babysitter, she'd get paid for it, and not just in motherfucking cock. That had been a good day compared to some of the ones after Bonnie had left him with a baby he didn't know what to do with.

Tomorrow, he would put in a full day of work. He had Friday night to look forward to. Not exactly a night on the town with a pretty woman on his arm, but still an evening with a blue-eyed blond with all kinds of potential.

Turning from the window, Chris grabbed a dish towel and began to clean up the mess.

---

The anti-theft device at the door gave him pause, it looked too much like the metal detectors in Oz. Once inside, Toby not only relaxed, but he started to enjoy himself. He'd allowed himself twenty minutes to get in, grab a couple of books and get out, but twenty minutes became thirty. An hour drifted by and Toby had to go to the front of the store to get a basket for all the books he wanted.

This was so far from the prison library, ratty old books with pages missing, and so little to choose from. He had only been allowed to keep a limited number of books in his pod, and his family could only send him so many. There had been a decent side business in trading them away when he had finished with them, though. It never failed to chap O'Reily's ass that he couldn't figure out a way to get a cut of the action.

It was a real pleasure just holding them in his hands, breathing the crisp paper smell of books that had never been read. So many old favorites, and Toby found himself smiling as he picked up a classic science fiction novel that he hadn't read since high school.

"You must really like that author."

The book flipped out of his hand and hit the floor. The heavy weight of the basket kept him from doing more than startle violently as he spun to face the person at his shoulder.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" the woman said, her eyes wide, "I didn't mean to surprise you like that."

Heart beating wildly, Toby could only nod. It had been stupid to let his guard down so far that he hadn't even noticed the woman's approach.

She leaned down and picked up the book. "I remember reading this when I was a teenager," she said, smiling fondly. "I must have read it a dozen times back then. He's a good writer."

"Yes." Toby cleared his throat. "I've read most of his books."

"Are you working on some kind of project," she asked, gesturing at his basket.

"This? No, no, just trying to catch up on my reading."

"That's a lot of reading," she said, with a laugh. It was a nice laugh. Now that he wasn't about to have a heart attack, he could appreciate all the nice things about her. She was pretty. And she had approached him. He liked that.

It was easy to fall into a conversation with her. She did most of the work, guiding their chat through different authors and books that they both enjoyed. She smiled a lot, tilted her head, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It suddenly dawned on him that she was flirting with him.

He had no idea what to do about it, or how he felt. All he could do was continue to respond to her overtures. For a moment, Toby compared this encounter with the one from the day before with Chris. Had he been so jittery with Chris because he was a man, or because he tended to push inside Toby's boundaries? Maybe a little of both. Toby filed that thought away for later.

This woman was assertive, but not pushy in a way that set off Toby's alarms. He found himself disappointed when she checked her watch. "I really have to get moving, or I'm going to be late."

Toby realized he was missing some cue when she stood there gazing at him expectantly. Finally, she bit her lip and blushed a little. "I don't usually do this, but would you like to have dinner with me?"

Embarrassed that he hadn't picked up on such an obvious signal, Toby nodded, huffing a laugh at himself. She joined in, and they both shuffled their feet a little and ducked their heads. "I'd love to."

They spent a few minutes exchanging numbers and making plans for Saturday night. Toby watched as she walked away, a big grin spreading across his face.

This outing hadn't been the ordeal he'd expected. Maybe he was adjusting to being normal again better than he thought.

---

Chris let the hood drop on the Toyota after changing the oil and a fluid check. It was a small job to start the morning, something to get out of the way before the big job of pulling an engine on a Chrysler that would take up most of the afternoon.

"Yo, Chris!"

Ronnie was leaning through the door, gesturing for him to come into the main office. Grabbing a rag, Chris wiped his hands and headed inside. Ronnie immediately waved Chris into the smaller, inner office where the paperwork was done.

Closing the door, Ronnie said, "I just got the weirdest phone call."

"A heavy breather?" Chris joked, "Did you ask him to take his clothes off?"

Ronnie frowned, puzzled. Chris suppressed a sigh. Ronnie was a stand up guy, but no one would ever accuse him of being the brightest bulb in the box.

"So, what was so weird about it?"

"It was this guy, said he was calling for Vincenzo Nappa."

Ronnie looked a little freaked. Chris didn't blame him.

He might not have recognized the name Vincenzo, but he sure as hell recognized the name Nappa.

"Why would this Vincenzo guy be calling you?"

"He wasn't calling me," Ronnie said, "He wanted me to give you a message. Meet him at Marty's at midnight Friday night."

"You're fucking kidding me!"

"No, I swear to God, that's what he said."

"What the hell would a Nappa want with me?"

"You tell me," Ronnie replied, too curious for his own good.

"I know as much about it as you do."

Ronnie shrugged and opened the door.

"Wait," Chris said, grabbing Ronnie's arm. "Keep it under your hat, okay? I don't want anybody else knowing about this."

"If you don't want people knowing your business, tell your friends not to call you at work."

Chris had a come back, but Ronnie was already closing the door behind him.

Damn, this wasn't good. He wanted to pace, but the office was too small and crowded with file cabinets and furniture and the detritus of a thriving business to make that possible. Instead he gripped the back of a chair and tried to think his way through this new mess trying to tangle up his life.

This Vincenzo had to be related to Antonio Nappa. Chris hadn't been involved with the Italians, with any of the heavy hitters, in close to fifteen years. Not since Anthony Martelli. When Tony had been gunned down by his rivals, all of Chris's secrets had gone down with him. That's the way Tony had operated, and Chris had lived by that set of rules since. That was the reason he hadn't been in prison since that eighteen month stint in Lardner when he was seventeen.

But the Nappa's and the Martelli's had been close at one time. Maybe this Vincenzo knew something. Maybe Tony hadn't taken all his secrets to the grave. Chris had to find out. Friday night, he'd be at Marty's.

---

To the depths of his soul, Toby hated Big Belly Burger. It was their third outing to the place; Harry always insisted they go there when it was his turn to choose. There was a bank of old style pinball machines and video games stuffed into an alcove in back, and a worn out jukebox that still took quarters off to one side. There was a small patch of dance floor that had been turned into a toy area for kids.

Between the blaring music starting up at odd moments, and the kids running and screaming everywhere, it was a little slice of hell on Earth for Toby.

They could have waited inside for Chris and Dani to show up, but the longer he put off his doom, the better. Had Chris changed his mind? Wouldn't it be nice if he did and Toby could forget ever meeting the guy.

Mentally, Toby shook himself. He was being an ass about this. Chris was just another dad who was a bit overly friendly, but harmless. He couldn't possibly have any kind of ulterior motive for wanting to hang out with Toby and his kids. He was a new dad and probably didn't have any friends with kids.

Resolving to be more approachable, Toby pulled Holly and Harry closer as a family of six walked up to the restaurant. Oh, hell. This was going to be a fun night.

---

Checking the dashboard clock as he parked, Chris was relieved to see that he was right on time. Getting Dani out of her car seat, he grabbed the stupid, pink diaper bag and headed to the door of Big Belly Burger.

He'd lied when he told Toby that he'd been there before, and he didn't think it really mattered until four kids thundered by, hitting the door and pouring inside, while their weary parents dragged behind them.

Chris caught sight of Toby looking shell-shocked as he clutched Holly's hand. From the way she frowned worriedly at her father, it appeared that he was holding her hand for dear life instead of the other way around.

They greeted each other, Holly cooing at Dani and pulling her down so they could walk together. As another family hoofed it into the restaurant, 50's sock hop music blared out of the open door. Toby still looked like he was ready to snatch up his kids and run, and Chris would be right there with him if he did. Toby sent him a look that was just as dismayed as Chris felt. Taking deep breaths, they headed inside.

---

Madhouse didn't come close to describing the chaos inside. Exhausted parents did little more than yell at their kids, who all seemed determined to find a way to climb the walls and swing from the ceiling, which raised the noise level even more. Music from the jukebox cutting off should have been a relief, until Toby realized that it had served to muffle the growl and snarl of voices.

Grimly determined to make it through the night, Toby hustled Chris and the kids to one of the two tables he knew he could tolerate for an hour or so. The one in the corner was empty, though one of the wait-staff was still clearing it. Toby didn't care. He moved around to the side where he could have his back to the wall and a clear line of sight to the door.

Chris asked the harried young woman busing the table for a high chair, which she grabbed from another table nearby and plunked down next to theirs. She mysteriously vanished into the mob while they seated themselves.

Chris took the place on Toby's right at the end of the table, Dani across from Toby with Holly next to her. Harry yelled something about a Buckaroo Burger and disappeared.

Leaning toward Toby, but staring after Harry, Chris asked, "He gonna be all right? We might have to go on safari if we want to get him back."

"He knows to stay in the play area, and I can see him from here."

They were interrupted by a waitress shoving plastic menus at them, throwing a bundle of paper covered straws on the table, then yanking an order pad out of her apron. "What'll it be," she said, voice raised over the crowd.

Toby reeled off the order for him and Harry; he knew it by heart. Holly ordered for herself, as usual. Chris floundered, studying the menu like he'd never seen one in his life. The obnoxious graphics and weird layout made it hard to figure out.

Chris finally handed the menu to the waitress, "I'll have the Buckaroo thing."

Toby bit his lip. Oh, this was going to be fun. But he wasn't going to leave Dani at the mercy of her father's random selection.

"The baby will have the Baby Belly Burger," Toby said, handing over his menu.

Toby tried not to laugh as Chris mouthed Baby Belly Burger to himself.

This outing might not be that hellish after all.

---

Baby Belly Burger? What had he gotten himself into?

Toby's face went a bit pink as he tried to hide his amusement. Pretty. Whatever the joke was, he wasn't sharing it with Chris. It was nice to see him soften up. Yes, definitely prettier in his dark blue sweater and jeans instead of dull as unbuttered toast like the first time they'd met.

Holly grabbed the cup full of crayons that was in the middle of the table and was drawing on the paper that covered the entire surface. She was encouraging Dani to scribble, guiding her hand, and talking to her. It was as good a time as any to get more information out of Toby.

Chris put his arm on the table and leaned closer to Toby. Automatically, Toby leaned toward him, it was the only way they could hear each other over the noise.

"I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday night," Chris said.

"Sure beats going out with a beautiful lady, drinking and dancing all night," Toby replied, rolling his eyes.

It did sort of remind Chris of some of the clubs he'd been to, except most of the people milling around wouldn't be pint-sized. The floor was sticky from spilled liquids, the air was filled with shrieks, and the staff looked like they wanted to kill everyone and go home. "All that's missing is the mus-- "

The jukebox blared to life, completing the scene.

Toby was trying not to laugh at him again, so Chris nudged him in the arm. That was the extent of their conversation for the next few minutes as several songs played, one after another, too loud to allow anything but the exchange of sympathetic glances.

Toby picked up a couple of crayons and offered one to Chris. He took it, wondering what he was supposed to do with it. When Toby started adding to the design spreading out around Dani's place, he realized that yes, he was expected to play too.

Surprisingly, it was kind of nice, feeling Toby brushing against his arm as they colored rainbows and clouds, or were those flying pigs? Really hard to tell with Toby so close. All Chris had to do was turn his face and he could breathe in the scent of clean skin, shampoo and a vague hint of cologne. A wisp of hair tickled Toby's ear as Chris exhaled, and he suddenly found himself gazing into blue eyes a scant inch or two away, so close he could feel Toby's breath on his cheek.

The moment held, suspended, an intimate bubble as fragile as the breath that mingled between them. It had been years since Chris had felt this connection with anyone at all, not this fast, and certainly never with a man.

A sharp squeal, and suddenly the bubble burst as Toby turned away to help Dani with a crayon just out of her reach. Chris sat back in his chair to regroup. Being attracted to a mark wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but there were already too many other chance factors involved. Flying by the seat of his pants had always been half the fun of a job, but that was only if the basic set up was rock solid. Choosing a random guy from the park was turning out to be a bad prospect.

Chris studied Toby's face as he stretched across the table, coloring in a star in a sky filled with a beaming sun and rainbows. He started to say something to Toby in the relative quiet between bouts of musical torture, when Toby asked Holly, "Would you mind getting Harry?"

"Sure, Dad," she said, standing up and giving Dani a quick squeeze.

Dani's face stormed over as Holly ran off, but before the tantrum could start, Toby had taken Dani's crayon filled hand and said, "She'll be right back, and she'll bring Harry, then we can eat. I bet you're hungry."

Toby wasn't using baby talk, but his voice held a soothing cadence that Dani responded to. With easy hands, Toby coaxed her back into coloring on the paper.

A minute later, Holly was back with Harry in tow, the waitress right behind them balancing a try over her head. As the kids took their chairs, the waitress opened up a stand, set the tray on it and began handing out the food.

Turned out, the Baby Belly Burger was served in a bright red tray that was molded into sections. One section held a hamburger patty cut into tiny pieces, one held a handful of potato chips, another held a pickle spear, and one was empty.

Chris was distracted from what else was being served by Toby. "Does Dani like ketchup?" he asked, holding a plastic ketchup bottle.

"Yeah, sure," he replied, though he didn't really know. He couldn't remember feeding her a hamburger before. Bonnie had gone on and on about making sure he fed Dani nutritious meals until he thought he'd go insane.

Toby squirted some ketchup into the empty section of Dani's tray, then handed the bottle to Holly. She had an actual plate and a kid sized hamburger. Chris felt his mouth water as Toby got a normal plate with a hamburger that gave the reason why the place was called Big Belly Burger.

But Toby wasn't paying attention to his own food, he was trying hard to hide a smile as the waitress set a little red tray in front of Chris. This couldn't be right. There was a tiny hamburger, some chips, a pickle spear and a carton of milk.

"Oh, hey, wait," he said, but the waitress had already deserted them.

Toby's eyes were shining as he bit his lip, but he finally couldn't help himself. Laughter burst out of him, a real belly laugh that had the whole table joining in, including Chris.

"Your face! Priceless!"

Holly pointed, "You got the same thing as Harry!"

Well, at least now he knew what the Buckaroo Belly Burger was.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not all that hungry," Chris said, but his stomach chose that moment to grumble. Loudly. That set off another wave of laughter.

Harry giggled, "Your stomach is rude!" Like that was the funniest thing in the world.

After several jokes at Chris's expense, everyone settled down. Toby's eyes were still bright when he turned to Chris.

"You've never been here before. Why would you lie about something like that?"

He couldn't say that sometimes lying was as natural as breathing, so he ducked his head. "I don't know. I wanted you to think I was a good dad. Guess I wanted to impress you."

"With this place?" Toby's brows went up, but his expression softened. His reached out, his hand lightly gripping Chris's arm. "I'm sorry that I was an ass at the playground. You're a new father and you lost your wife." Toby squeezed his arm, so much warmth and understanding in his eyes, Chris suddenly realized he'd go a long way to get more of it. "I'm sorry, Chris."

Toby pulled away and reached for a packet of plastic cutlery.

"I'll wave down a waitress. This time, I'll let you order for me," Chris said.

"If you had really been here before, you'd know that she won't show up again until it's time for the check."

"You're kidding," he said, looking down at the nickel-sized burger on his tray. Harry was happily chowing down on his.

"Don't worry about it," Toby said.

He pulled the plastic wrap off the cutlery and used the blunt knife to cut his burger in half.

"Hey, you don't have to do that," he said, not even convincing himself.

Toby put half his burger on Chris's tray. "True, since you're not all that hungry." He rolled his eyes at Chris's rueful glare.

Taking the lid off his drink, Toby unwrapped a second straw and put it in his drink. A few of his chips ended up on Chris's tray, too.

With a smirk, Chris took the plastic knife and cut his tiny Buckaroo Burger in half and put part of it on Toby's plate.

"Very funny," Toby said, picking it up and making it disappear in a single bite.

Tucking into his own meal, Chris found himself enjoying dinner far more than he expected. It was hard to believe that an evening spent with three young children could be fun, but damned if he wasn't feeling more relaxed and easy than he'd felt in a long time.

Halfway through dinner, he found himself chuckling over the silly knock-knock joke competition between Harry and Toby. Harry laughed so hard he got the hiccups. Toby took Harry onto his lap, rubbed his back and fed him ice chips from his drink until Harry calmed down. Something old and bitter twisted in Chris's chest, watching Toby handle his son with such care and genuine affection. He shook it off, refusing to let old ghosts ruin his mood.

Holly helped Dani, showing her how to jab her food with a plastic fork and dip it into the ketchup. When she offered Dani a bite of pickle, Dani's face screwed up so comically that everyone laughed and Toby said, "Times like these, I wish I had a camera with me."

A little while later, the waitress showed up with the check.

"Dad, you said we could have dessert! I have room! Dani wants dessert too, don't you Dani?"

"Yes, yes, I promised dessert." Toby turned to the waitress, "We'll have the Belly Buster Sundae. Five spoons, please."

"Is that going to be enough for everybody?" Chris asked.

"They don't call it a Belly Buster for nothing. Wait 'til you see it."

When the dessert arrived, Chris felt his eyes go wide. No exaggeration, the thing was enormous, big enough to satisfy five adults; it was more than enough for three kids and their dads. Everyone grabbed a spoon and attacked the sundae as if they hadn't eaten at all.

"Hey! Let Dani have some," Holly yelled, then helped Dani scoop out a huge spoonful of sundae.
When they were done, Dani was covered in ice cream and fudge from her forehead to her waist. Toby was grinning from ear to ear as he leaned down and pulled Dani out of the high chair, settling her on his hip.

"I'll take her to the bathroom. I've got to get Harry cleaned up, anyway." Toby didn't seem to notice or maybe he didn't care, that Dani had her grubby hands clenched in his blue sweater.

That left him alone with Holly, who was staring at him the way Angelique's cat used to stare at him. He never did know what that cat was thinking, but it made a habit of spitting up hairballs on his favorite boots.

Holly wasn't nearly as cryptic, just more disconcerting when she asked, "Are you going to have more babies?"

"Um..."

"Because Dani needs a sister."

Jesus, he needed to derail that idea, and fast.

Putting on his most charming smile, the one that had worked on all three of his wives, until they caught on to his tricks, Chris tilted his head at Holly.

"Dani doesn't need a sister. She has you."

"But I'm not her sister," Holly said, clearly disappointed.

"She is if we say she is."

Holly turned that over for a minute, then she smiled as bright as the crayon sun she had drawn for Dani. Before he knew it, Holly was out of her chair, her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed against his. Awkwardly, he patted her back, feeling both pleased and dismayed that his charm seemed to work on little girls as well as it did on grown women. Would be nice if it worked just as consistently on men, especially the dad of the little girl who was still clinging to him and smiling like it was Christmas.

---

Harry needed a little help with the soap dispenser, but otherwise was able to wash his hands by himself. Dani, on the other hand, was a complete mess and needed all the help she could get. Smiling, Toby wet a paper towel and began to scrub her face.

The bib hadn't done a thing to protect her shirt, so he pulled both the bib and shirt off and stuffed them into the outer pocket of the diaper bag. After getting most of the sticky mess off of her, he pulled the clean top he found in the diaper bag over her head.

She kept wriggling, twisting around from where she was sitting on the bathroom counter to try and get her hands in the water where Harry was washing his hands. Toby kept pulling her upright, so he could get chocolate out of her hair and fix the plastic barrettes that were trying to escape.

It was so strange and kind of wonderful to be handling a toddler again. With Gary, he'd been there every step of the way, from the moment Gen announced that she was pregnant with him, right up until Holly was born. Toby couldn't pinpoint what had gone wrong, or how, but their cozy family life had started to unravel.

Part of it was having two kids so close together. He'd barely had a chance to enjoy one child, then there was another on the way. With so much pressure to take on more responsibility at work and longer hours in the office, Gen bore the brunt of taking care of the kids.

What started out as a strong marriage started to crack and eventually crumble. Toby spent less time with his wife or his children. It would be easy to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew that was a cop-out.

Ultimately, he had cheated all of them, his wife, Gary, Holly and especially Harry. Holding Dani, he realized that he had never done this with Harry; he'd been an infant when Toby had gone to Oz, not even crawling yet. He barely knew Harry, he barely knew any of his kids.

Determined not to spoil the evening with such pointless musings, Toby reached for another handful of paper towels, jumping at his reflection flickering in the polished metal. The whole bathroom was glass and stainless steel and mirror, all shining surfaces bouncing his image around the enclosed space.

Toby felt a chilling sweat break over him as his heartbeat quickened. There was a wild rushing in his ears. Hands shaking, Toby gripped Dani to keep her from falling off the counter. It was the last conscious thing he did as black edged his vision, and he went under.

---

"Chris!"

Harry rushed toward the table. As soon as he reached Chris, he latched onto his arm, trying to pull him out of his chair. It was a family place, so no one paid attention to the commotion, all the parents there were old hands at dealing with overexcited children. Chris wasn't so experienced, and felt a jolt of adrenaline as he got up and let Harry tow him to the restroom. Holly followed, but Chris told her to wait outside with Harry while he went in to check on Toby and Dani.

Everything looked fine at first glance. There was no blood or a screaming toddler. All he saw was Toby just standing there, holding Dani in place. Dani sat calmly chewing a wad of paper towel.

"Toby?"

Toby didn't move, didn't even blink. He stood staring at something over Dani's head, the mirror maybe? Studying Toby's ashen face, Chris realized that he wasn't seeing anything but what was unfolding inside his own head.

Cautiously, Chris reached for Dani. Seeing the tension in Toby's body, Chris knew better than to touch Toby. But Toby had a good grip on Dani's clothes, so Chris began to murmur instructions to Toby.

"Yeah, that's right, open your hands. Let go now, Toby. Just let go."

Dani sensed that something was going on, but she didn't seem to be worried. Still talking, keeping his voice calm, Chris carefully worked at Toby's fingers until they suddenly opened and Dani was free. Quickly, Chris picked her up and took her out of the restroom. He hated leaving Toby in there by himself, staring like a zombie, but he had to take care of the kids first.

"Can you take Dani and Harry over to the play area?" he asked Holly.

"Is Dad okay?" She's too young to look that worried.

"He's fine. Everything's going to be fine."

"He's doing that staring thing again, isn't he?"

"He's done it before?" It was a relief to know that this wasn't some weird thing that just came out of left field. At least he would't have to call an ambulance.

"Yes. In my bedroom once when he went to get a doll out of the cabinet."

Putting Dani down, Chris waited until Holly took her hand before urging them toward the play area. "Okay, that's good to know. I'll take care of your Dad, you take care of Dani. Go on and play, we'll be out in a minute."

Beaming, Holly said, "I'll take good care of her. C'mon Harry, let's show Dani the fire truck."

With the kids taken care of, at least temporarily, Chris went back into the restroom.

It was eerie seeing Toby standing there, completely unaware of his surroundings. Anyone could walk right up and take his wallet or do any number of things, and Toby wouldn't be the wiser. It creeped him the hell out, and he realized that he couldn't simply wait for Toby to come out of this seizure or whatever it was.

Chris had already touched his hand without scaring him or startling him into a violent reaction. Cautiously, he put his hand around Toby's.

"That's good," he murmured. "Blink those pretty, blue eyes. Let me know you're still in there." Slowly, very slowly, Toby's eyelids lowered. At least Chris was getting some kind of response.

Using Toby's hand to steer him, Chris turned Toby around until, surprisingly, he slumped against Chris. It was easy to drape his arms around Toby, nuzzle into his hair.

"You with me?"

"Yeah," the reply muffled by Chris's shoulder.

"Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Don't know."

Toby didn't seem to be all that worried about standing in a public restroom, held close by another man. He seemed content to stay there, his breath warming the skin of Chris's shoulder through the thin layer of his Henley. After a moment, Toby shifted, his hands coming to rest on Chris's waist, squeezing and releasing as if not quite sure where to settle them.

Chris was enjoying the hesitant touches far too much, they didn't mean anything. Except Toby wasn't pushing him away. That had to mean something, didn't it? Chris was about to push the hem of Toby's sweater up to get to skin when the restroom door opened.

"Oh my god! This is a family restaurant!"

Chris glared at the man holding the hand of a young boy. "Fuck off!"

"Don't use that kind of language in front of my son. And what you're doing is disgusting!"

"Fuck off, asshole!"

Toby's response was to giggle, a high, wild sound that made the hair on the back of Chris's neck stand up. The man must have found that to be freakier than finding two men hugging, because he dragged his kid out, threatening to talk to management.

"Yeah, you do that," Toby muttered. "Like the manager of this place gives a flying fuck what happens around here."

It seemed to take some effort for Toby to lift his head from Chris's shoulder to squint blearily into his eyes. "Nice to meet you," he said.

"Pleasure's all mine," Chris answered.

Snickering like a couple of dumbasses, they finally let go of each other. Then Toby looked around.

"Wait. Where are Dani and Harry."

"They're fine. Holly's with them."

"We better get out there," Toby said, but paused long enough to splash cold water on his face.

The kids didn't want to leave; Chris could tell that Dani was getting tired but was fighting it. He still had to drop her off at Bonnie's sister's place if he wanted to make his meeting with Vincenzo later.

Toby nudged Chris on the shoulder as he turned toward their table. "I'll pay the check and get their coats. Think you can round the kids up?"

Ten minutes later, they were out on the sidewalk, air clouding around their mouths in the chill evening.

"Do we have to go home?" Holly whined.

"Yes, we do. It's getting late," Toby replied.

"But what about Dani? Can Dani come over and play tomorrow? It's Saturday."

"I'm sure Chris and Dani have plans for the weekend." Actually, they didn't. Chris was curious to see how Toby was going to play this. "But I have an idea." He turned to Chris.

"Halloween is next week," Toby said. "My family throws a big party every year."

Chris had seen the decorations all over town, but they hadn't really registered with him. Halloween hadn't meant anything to him since he was a kid, and even then it had only meant knocking the littler kids down and stealing their candy.

"I don't know, Toby. I'm not into costume parties. And I'm not sure I can find anyone to baby sit Dani at such short notice."

"You got it all wrong; parents will be there with their kids. There will be all kinds of things for the kids to do, even little ones like Dani. You won't even have to get her a mask, Mom hired someone to do face painting."

The party sounded like something a good dad would do with his kid; Chris was about as interested in going as he was in getting a root canal. Seeing his reluctance, Toby chucked Dani under her chin, making her giggle.

"This will be her first real Halloween." He tickled Dani's tummy. "You don't want to miss it."

Then Toby turned those blue eyes on Chris, and he found himself nodding. "What time?"

---

Wired from burger hell and still shaken from the incident in the bathroom, Toby might have been a little too cautious driving home, judging by the horns honking behind him and a few curses shouted out of rolled down windows. He grimly ignored it all, navigating the streets to his parent's house to drop the kids off.

Letting his conscience take a break, he let himself be grateful that he wasn't the one who would have to get Holly and Harry, still bouncing with energy, settled down for the night. For once, he wasn't going to feel guilty for not taking more responsibility for his children. He dropped Holly and Harry off, gave his mother a perfunctory kiss, and drove home.

Still too restless to go to bed, Toby changed into his sleep pants and a t-shirt and went to his office. He sat in his chair, picked up a book, but didn't open it, his thoughts still whirling over the entire evening, but lighting again and again on what had happened with Chris.

That was the second blackout since leaving Oz, and thank god he'd never had one while still locked up. He'd had a few during that period when he'd been at his heaviest drinking, right before he'd killed Kathy Rockwell. The blackouts should have been a big clue, right there, but Toby had been too deep in denial about his life and himself to pay attention.

He hadn't had a drink in three years, but that didn't mean he'd been an angel. Thanks to O'Reily, and his own stupidity, his alcoholism now had a big heaping side order of drug addiction. Toby had been clean for over two years, so that didn't explain the blackout either.

Probably some mental headcase bullshit come back to haunt him. It had taken years of painful work to get himself together after everything Schillinger had done to him. Not to mention the stuff Toby had done in retaliation.

Putting his book down, Toby scrubbed at his face with his hands. Would a guy like Chris give Toby the time of day if he knew that he'd been in prison? Chris had been the one trying to impress Toby, and wasn't that ironic?

Chris was working hard at being a good dad, doing it on his own with little help from anyone else. Would he really want Toby around his kid if he knew? Hell, should Toby even be around his own kids when he was so messed up?

Toby got up to turn on some music. He couldn't take the silence, but he couldn't stand loud noises either. Big Belly Burger had been excruciating, but having Chris there somehow made it bearable. Tonight had been the first time he had enjoyed being there, and not just because he was with his children. Chris had made it fun, mostly by taking the pressure off of Toby.

Toby smiled, remembering how Chris had been able to laugh at himself over his mistake in ordering a Buckaroo Burger for himself. Chris had been good natured about the whole night, even though he was almost as stressed by the noise and chaos as Toby.

What really made Toby stop and think was how adeptly Chris had handled Toby's blackout, the kids, the entire situation. Anyone else Toby knew would have panicked and Toby might have found himself waking up in an ambulance on his way to a psych ward.

Waking up to warmth and strong arms holding him close had been a shock, but a pleasant one. The proper thing to do would have been to step back immediately, but his body had bypassed the logic centers of his brain and made him stay where he felt safe.

That was the strangest part of the whole night, the sense of safety he'd felt in Chris's arms. It had felt so good to let someone shelter him, if just for a little while. It was such a rare feeling that Toby had held on, not caring that it was a man's arms around him.

After everything that had happened to him in Oz, he should have reacted violently to being touched by a man, but his body didn't seem to agree with that logic. Somehow, Chris had crept inside Toby's boundaries, and he wasn't sure how he should feel about that.

It was too late at night to keep worrying at the problem. Turning the music up, Toby went into the kitchen and made himself a snack.

---

Marty's was a dive that tried in vain to dress itself up as a neighborhood bar. Considering the neighborhood, it was better off as a dive.

Pulling into the parking lot, Chris sneered in disgust at the puddles of glass glittering under the broken lights. Drunken bums had made a game of throwing beer bottles at the lights, not caring that they would have to walk or drive through the glass to get home. Chris had been that young and stupid once, but that didn't keep him from being irritated now that he drove a custom bike with wheels more expensive than the mortgage on the shabby dump.

He found a place to park at the side of the building under that buzzing flash of a neon Budweiser sign. Tucking his helmet under his arm, he headed in, almost hoping he'd have the chance to break the face of someone dumb enough to touch his bike.

Saturday night and the place was nearly empty except for a couple of dedicated bar hounds smoking and nursing their beers at the bar. There were two wannabe Sopranos goombahs, one at the bar holding a bottle of beer in his meaty fist, one lurking in the shadows near the only occupied booth. That explained why the place was deserted on what should have been the busiest night of the week.

The booth was a red vinyl curve against the back wall, scuffed up, with most of the buttons missing from the upholstery. Vincenzo sat on the outside, his arm draped across the back of the seat behind--

Kitty.

Fuck.

Nothing good had ever come of having Kitty in his life, not when he was married to her, not after the divorce, and sure as hell not now. He knew what it was like to have his blood run cold, and that was a damn familiar feeling when Kitty was around. Seeing the two of them together, Chris knew he was in more trouble than he expected.

"Keller," Vincenzo nodded, gesturing at the seat across from him.

Chris sat, glanced at Kitty, who seemed to find the water ring left by her Cosmopolitan more fascinating than the ex-husband she hadn't seen in nearly a decade. A Cosmo - when in hell did they start serving pussy cocktails in Marty's?

"I hear tell," Vincenzo said, giving Kitty's shoulders a squeeze, "That you used to do some work for Tony Martelli."

"I hear tell Martelli is dead. His brothers are dead. His wife is dead. I even heard that his dog is dead, too."

"You're a funny guy," Vincenzo chuckled, his eyes hard. The two goombahs chuckled with him, until Vincenzo abruptly stopped. "I don't really like funny guys."

"Maybe I should just get out of your hair, then." Chris shifted, as if to leave.

"Did I say you could go?"

The guy at the bar slipped off his chair and took a more threatening stance. He let the front of his jacket fall open revealing a gun at his waist. Chris sat back and made himself comfortable.

Smirking, Vincenzo waved the guy back to his seat, the gold rings on his fingers flashing too bright in a room that preferred to huddle in shadow. His dark hair was groomed in a style that hadn't been seen in decades unless you were a fan of Martin Scorsese films. The sharp gray suit completed the look of an up and coming thug who wanted to advertise his ambitions.

What had Kitty gotten herself into this time?

Hell, what had she gotten Chris into?

She still hadn't looked at Chris, sitting there sipping her drink, curved into the crook of Vincenzo's arm like she belonged there.

Chris set his helmet on the seat next to him, folded his arms on the table and said, low and intimate, "How you doing, Kitty?"

Finally deigning to glance up at him, she parted her lips to speak, but Vincenzo rapped the top of the table with his knuckles. "Did I say you could speak to her? You're here to talk to me."

"She's my ex-wife. Haven't seen her in a while."

Arm possessively tight around her shoulders, Vincenzo said, "Your ex-wife. You remember that. Save your little powwow for someone else."

Chris didn't need or want a 'little powwow' with Kitty. But now he knew that Vincenzo was a jealous bastard, and Chris might be able to use that.

He'd had enough of the posturing. Chris decided to get the show on the road. "You went to the trouble of getting me down here. I'm pretty sure it wasn't for your health. Unless you're getting ready to ask me for a kidney."

"Still a comedian. Kitty didn't tell me you had an attitude problem."

"No problem. No problem at all. I just don't like being called at work to come to a shithole like this to talk to a man I never met before. A man who seems to be in an intimate relationship with my ex-wife. Sorry if none of that puts me in a good mood."

"Nobody around here gives a shit about your mood, Keller. Let's get down to business before I ask my guys to take you out back for an attitude adjustment."

Yeah, this guy was amateur hour, all right, and not nearly as smart as he thought he was. Vincenzo Nappa wasn't anywhere near Martelli's league.

Tony Martelli had been the real deal. Smart. And colder than a razor right before it cut your throat. Chris had done a few lucrative odd jobs for him, too stupid back then to realize that Martelli was just waiting for the chance to hook him and reel him in like a fish on a line. Kitty had given him that chance.

Turned out, Kitty's fondness for betting on the horses wasn't just for occasional entertainment, but was a big problem. A hundred thousand dollar problem.

He'd loved her back then, or at least the illusion she had tailor-made to fit Chris Keller like a glove. He should have known she was too good to be true. She had kept him in reserve, like an ace in the hole, until she got in way over her head. She'd used his love, his loyalty to get herself out scot-free while leaving Chris to clean up her mess.

And here she was again, thinking she could fuck him over a second time.

He'd fucking kill her before he let that happen.

"I don't know what kind of business you think you have with me. Unless you want me to give your car a tune up. I work in a garage, that's all I do."

"I heard from a little birdie," he smiled fondly at Kitty, "that you used to do odd jobs for Tony Martelli."

Chris let his gaze wander to 'the little birdie's' beautifully bland face. She still kept her attention on her drink rather than the two men verbally fencing each other at the table with her.

"That part of my life ended when Martelli took a bullet to the head. I'm free and clear, all debts paid." Chris put emphasis on the last part, but Kitty still didn't look up. He wanted to kick her under the table, hard.

"Nobody is ever free and clear. You always owe something. I hear you need money."

"I'm fine. I'm making plenty of money at the garage."

"Ain't that a riot. You. A mechanic." Vincenzo snickered, the goombahs joining in like he was funnier than Jay Leno. "That's kind of what I'm looking for. A man who can fix things."

"I only fix cars. Sometimes, I'll change a washer on a leaky faucet. But whatever else you think I can fix, you've got the wrong guy."

Vincenzo's face went hard as he leaned toward Chris. "I've got the right guy. I've got the guy that made Danny Pelligrini disappear."

Finally, Kitty was staring at him, eyes pleading, but all Chris wanted to do was pick up her drink and toss it at her face.

Danny Pelligrini. Fuck.

What did Kitty know about him? What could she possibly tell Vincenzo?

Nothing. She was smart enough to put a few vague facts together, but nothing concrete. Martelli had been sure of that. He had taught Chris well, taught him to keep his mouth shut, how to get rid of the evidence, how to get rid of anything that might connect back to Chris. And Martelli had been especially careful to keep any association he had with Chris a secret. There was only one person alive who knew about it and that was Kitty.

And now this asshole.

Fuck.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Never heard of the guy."

"Don't play games," Vincenzo snapped. "We both know you're not Mr. Clean." Vincenzo snorted, "Or maybe we should call you Mr. Cleaner."

More chuckles all around. Chris felt his hands clench as he willed himself not to get up and start swinging.

"Whatever information you think you have, it's wrong. I don't know what you're talking about, or who you're talking about."

"I didn't think you'd be so stubborn. You work for me and we'll both make more money than a mug like you can count."

"Not interested."

"Look. I've got plans. Big plans. If you don't care about the money, then maybe staying off of Death Row might interest you."

"There's no evidence."

It was a tiny slip, but Vincenzo didn't seem to notice, just bulldozed on.

"Doesn't matter. We both know that suspicion is enough to get people digging around. You don't want anyone digging, do you?"

That's when Chris knew that Vincenzo really didn't know anything. Not really. All he had was a name and a little imagination.

But that was enough.

He was right about one thing, all he had to do was whisper Danny Pelligrini in the right ear and Chris wouldn't even make it to Death Row. He wouldn't even make it through the week.

---

It was late when Chris got home, too late to go to any clubs and work some of the tension out of his system. He wanted to move, pick a fight and hit someone, feel them pummel him back, throw a chair through a window, kick a hole in the wall. He wanted to taste his own blood on his teeth, spit it in someone's eye.

He couldn't do any of that.

This prick wasn't anything like Martelli, or any of the old school Nappas. None of them would have dreamed of squealing, not even on an outsider like Chris.

Chris couldn't afford to make an enemy of this guy, but there was no way he could go back to his old life either. It had cost him. Not just the illusion of his marriage, but something good and clean inside. That part of him would never be right again. He couldn't fix it, but he could keep it locked up, hidden away in some deep place where he wouldn't have to face it every day like he had back then.

The first job he had done for Martelli had taught him a lesson about himself that he only wanted to forget. Part of him had loved it. Reveled in it. It had made him feel powerful.

It scared the shit out of him.

Martelli's death had given him a second chance. A new life. He hadn't turned into a saint, but he had worked damned hard to turn himself away from a darkness that had threatened to eat him alive.

Now this asshole wanted to drag him back down again. He couldn't do it.

"You start squealing, I can squeal, too." He wouldn't, but Vincenzo didn't need to know that. "You know where I work. You know the people I work with. All I have to do is tell them that you're looking at their operation. Anything happens around there, and it will be laid at your door."

Uncertainty clouded Vincenzo's eyes for the first time. While that new thought rattled around in his head, Chris took his chance. Grabbing his helmet, he stood up.

"Can't say it's been fun. But it's been something. Not sure what, though." He nodded, and turned away. Vincenzo called after him, but Chris ignored it and got his ass out of there.

Taking off his helmet, Chris strode to the car to go get Dani from Bonnie's sister. There would be hell to pay if he didn't pick her up tonight, but when his eyes fell on the heavy bag in the corner, Chris knew he couldn't go, yet.

Stripping out of his jacket, he tossed it onto the work bench and put on a pair of worn, old bag gloves. It was cold in the garage, but Chris knew he'd warm up soon enough.

The first blows were light taps meant to get him started on a good rhythm, get him into the right head space. All that went to hell when Vincenzo's smug face popped into his mind's eye and Chris's right arm shot out in a hard jab. It wasn't enough, and his left hand followed through with another blow.

After that, he rained blow after blow on the heavy bag, grunting as his gloves slammed into it with bone-jarring force. His form wasn't for shit, but he wasn't there to impress anyone. He was there to smash Vincenzo Nappa in the face. And Kitty. And going back years to Tony Martelli. Maybe he was there to punish himself a little, too, for being duped all those years ago.

He moved around the bag, starting to breathe hard, sweat soaking his shirt. A pleasant ache building in his arms and chest, and as he warmed up, his movements becoming smoother. Bonnie's face joined the queue, back when she was healthy and happy, telling him she was pregnant.

Of all of them, she was probably the least deserving of his rage. Loving Bonnie hadn't stopped him from manipulating and using her. He'd put her through hell, one way or another. Chris had caused her endless grief, pulling the same shit on her that Kitty had pulled on him. She'd taken it and forgiven him, always taking him back, always one more chance.

He had loved her, yet he was so fucking pissed off at her - stupid, considering she was dead and beyond all care. It infuriated him that she had chosen to saddle him with a kid he never wanted, that she had taken herself out of the world to bring Dani into it.

Stepping back from the heavy bag, Chris swiped his arm across his face, keeping the sweat out of his eyes. He was exhausting his body, but tension still thrummed through his blood. What he needed was to get out of this town, go to a place where nobody knew him. He'd started fresh before, but he always ended up coming back here, where he always fell in with the wrong people, where he always fell into the same bad habits.

Yanking the gloves off, Chris grabbed his jacket and headed inside for a shower. He'd pick Dani up in the morning and screw Bonnie's sister if she didn't like it.

---

Toby had enjoyed Friday night with Chris and the kids, in spite of the not-so-appealing environment, not to mention the weird blackout later. That wasn't nearly as delightful a prospect as a pleasant evening of good food and good conversation with a pretty, articulate lady.

She had mentioned that she could get them into a place called Aubergines. They probably served French food, which Toby liked. Since getting out of prison, Toby rarely ate out unless it was someplace he could take the kids. He looked forward to the quiet ambiance. The only problem would be explaining that he didn't drink but he could probably wave that away by claiming an allergy-- No.

No. This might be his first date in forever, and he didn't expect it to turn into anything long term, but still, he wasn't going to start off by lying. He'd tell the truth about being an alcoholic. Telling her about prison would have to come later, if things panned out.

Ignoring the nervous butterflies in his belly, Toby checked his tie in the mirror one last time. He looked fine. Everything was going to be fine.

---

He'd really screwed himself this time. Trudie had been pissed when he finally picked Dani up that morning. It would be a cold day in hell before she agreed to baby sit for him again. Then his regular sitter had called and told him not to bring Dani on Monday; she had some kind of doctor's appointment.

Later that night, tucking Dani into her crib with Snuffly in her arms, Chris wondered what the hell he was supposed to do on Monday. Ronnie's uncle had been understanding about Chris missing work or occasionally taking a half-day when Bonnie was sick, but day care problems would win him no sympathy.

Chris got a beer and sprawled on the couch. It had been a long day of doing nothing. Keeping a toddler entertained and out of trouble was work and gave him all new appreciation for people who did it full time. It was fortunate that he hadn't planned any projects for the day because Dani had kept his hands full.

Turning the problem over in his mind, Chris considered the drop off center down town, but they only let kids stay of four hours at a time, then someone had to pick them up. What the hell good would that do Chris when he had to put in a full day's work?

Thoughts turning to the only other father he knew, Chris wondered if Toby might know of a good day care center. Probably not, both his kids were in school, even the four year old, Harry. Snooty private schools where you had to have a pedigree just to get in the door.

The beer paused half-way to his lips as a thought struck him. Toby was home all day, and even though he didn't have custody of his own kids, it was obvious he was a good father to them. He was good with Dani too.

So he'd had that weird blackout. Toby would have come out of it on his own without Chris coaxing him. And he hadn't put Dani in any actual danger.

Did he really have a choice? For now, he needed to keep his job. He'd tapped out the last of his savings to pay for Bonnie's funeral.

It was just for one day.

Decision made, Chris got up and tossed back the last swallow of beer. He reached for the phone.

---

Toby walked in, tossed his keys onto the tray on the table next to the door, and headed straight for the medicine cabinet. What he really wanted was a drink, or five, but a couple of Tylenol would have to do to make both the headache and the memory of his first date since prison go away.

All things considered, Marilyn had been a lot nicer about the whole thing than Toby really deserved. She had probably expected to be wined and dined, maybe even a sweet first kiss when he took her home. Having almost the entire meal, and most of a bottle of wine that she'd had to drink by herself, packed up so she could eat it alone in her apartment hadn't figured into her plans for the evening. Breaking out of one of the trendiest restaurants in town like he was breaking out of prison hadn't exactly figured into Toby's plans, either.

He'd really been looking forward to that damn kiss too.

Swallowing down the Tylenol, Toby hoped the throbbing in his head would go away soon. He was leaning against the bathroom sink, trying to will the headache away, when he heard the phone in the bedroom ring. Groaning, he pushed away from the sink and went to answer the phone, expecting it to be Marilyn, wanting some answers for his behavior.

"Hey, Toby, wasn't expecting you to be home so early. I was just going to leave a message on your machine."

"Chris," he answered, surprised.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, no," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and loosening his tie.

"She's not there with you?"

Toby let the tie fall to the floor and started to shrug out of his suit jacket.

"No," he said, sighing again and rubbing at the throbbing sensation in the middle of his forehead.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it. I just called to talk to you about Dani."

"Oh, yeah?" He perked up instantly, figuring that any conversation was better than sitting there obsessing over Marilyn and his weird case of claustrophobia at Haute I'm Too Trendy For You.

"So it didn't go great?"

"I thought I didn't have to talk about it."

"I lied," Chris said, "Spill."

Toby suddenly found himself smiling, "It was the worst date I've ever had. No wait, the second worst date. Nothing can beat my high school spring formal with Lindsey Connor." Talking to Chris, none of it seemed so bad any more.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I spilled red punch down her very expensive dress, then I grabbed some paper napkins to try and clean it up. Then suddenly there was more paper, and more, and more. I had no idea where it was coming from until she started screaming and crying. Apparently, I'd started pulling the toilet paper out of her bra without realizing it."

Chris started laughing, hard. "Okay, that's pretty bad."

Toby found himself laughing too. When he settled, Chris was talking again, "Look, you probably have things to do, so I won't keep you, but I wanted to know if you could babysit Dani Monday."

Babysitting. Christ, he could barely manage his own kids for a couple of hours every few days. Toby's stomach clenched when he realized that he still hadn't told Chris about how he spent the last three years.

Chris must have taken Toby's silence as a negative because he started talking. "I wouldn't ask, Toby, but I don't have a choice. I can't take her to the babysitter on Monday, and Bonnie's sister can't keep her, either."

"No, that's not--" Toby leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You might not want me babysitting Dani."

"Why not?"

It was now or never. He had to come clean and let Chris decide how he wanted this friendship to play out. If there was going to be a friendship at all.

"I just got out of prison three months ago."

There was a long silence. Toby squeezed his eyes shut, fully expecting Chris to either demand to know why Toby hadn't said anything sooner, or just simply tell him to get lost.

"What were you in for?"

Chris sounded like he was asking about the weather instead of sounding angry. Toby was relieved, but it still wasn't easy to admit to what he'd done.

"Vehicular manslaughter. Drunk driving."

"Okay." There was another long silence. "Okay, Dani is sleeping. Why don't you come over, we'll talk about it. I guess I won't be offering you any beer to drown your sorrows over your second worst date ever."

Toby huffed a laugh, grateful and even more relieved that Chris was still willing to hang in there. "No, no beer."

"How do you feel about grape Kool-Aid?"

"Love the stuff. Can't get enough of it."

"Get over here," he said. He gave Toby the address and directions for getting there. It wouldn't be hard to find.

Hanging up, Toby quickly changed into more comfortable clothes. As he grabbed his keys, he barely noticed that his headache was gone.

---

Chris had known there was something off about Toby, something he was holding back, but he never would have guessed prison. Never.

A lot of things started to make sense now that he knew. Like the way Toby's eyes constantly flicked around, taking note of where everyone and everything was, checking when other people moved around. It was the look of a man constantly on guard, always on the look out.

It also explained how he was so good with kids, but at the same time it all seemed so new to him. No wonder the kids didn't live with him.

As he finished making a pitcher of Kool-Aid, Chris checked the time and wondered if Toby had even eaten. He was kind of hungry himself, so he ordered a pizza and sat in front of the TV to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, he let Toby in, gesturing for him to sit down while he went into the kitchen to pour them both a drink. Too bad he couldn't drink a beer, but he didn't think it was a good idea with Toby looking so nervous.

---

"Maybe you could give me the highlights of your date."

Toby pulled a face. "She wanted to go to Aubergines. You know the place?"

Aubergines was the kind of trendy place that Chris avoided unless he was after a mark. He preferred a comfortable neighborhood bar where he could drink, unwind, shoot some pool - the exact opposite of the kind of place to go hunting for your next con job.

Chris raised a brow. "Yeah, I've heard of it. How the hell did you get in? Their waiting list is a mile long."

"Apparently, her sister works there. She got us in."

"And I bet that made the whole date that much more excruciating."

Toby ducked his head, the corners of his mouth finally turning up. "You have no idea. When we left before the main course, she looked at me like I was-- "

"Like what?"

"...like I was a criminal."

Chris reached out to him, but didn't get a chance to touch before Toby scooted closer and leaned into his side. His arm curved around Toby like it was meant to be there, no objections. This was a far cry from the Toby he'd met at the park who could barely tolerate Chris touching his elbow. Did Toby realize how weird it was to curl up on the couch with another man? Not that Chris minded; it was kind of nice.

Toby brooded quietly until Chris gently shook him. "I hear there's purple neon all over the place."

Toby snorted. "You have to see it to believe it. It was all around the ceiling and around the bar area. There were purple light strips on the floor - which was a good thing because the lighting was so dim, I couldn't see where I was going without them."

"I hope you didn't wear that to Aubergines," Chris said, gesturing at Toby's t-shirt and jeans with his drink, then set it on the table.

Toby looked down at himself, like he didn't recognize his own clothes. "No, of course not. I was dressed to the nines." Toby moved out of Chris's embrace, putting his elbows on his knees. "Do you really want to talk about my tragic date, or do you want to ask me about prison?"

"Both."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. At Toby's inquiring look, Chris said. "I ordered pizza. I figured you didn't get anything to eat since you got home so early."

"Yeah, I am hungry," Toby said, perking up.

It wasn't long before they were both digging in, not bothering with plates. A guy who'd been to prison wasn't too dainty to eat out of the box.

Toby wolfed his share down with a relish that made Chris smile. Yeah, he remembered stuffing his face like a pig for months after getting out of Lardner, everything tasted so damned good. Since Toby was playing True Confessions, Chris figured he'd better come clean about his own stint upstate.

Finishing off his second piece of pizza, Chris swiped his mouth with a napkin and just came out with it. "You're not the only ex-con in the room."

Toby was so focused on the food that it took a minute for the words to get through his blissful carb haze.

"Huh?" he said, as he put down his third slice with obvious regret. Chris smirked, deciding to let Toby take the leftovers home with him.

"Larder. Eighteen months for grand theft auto. Only reason I didn't get a stiffer sentence is because I just turned seventeen. I missed being tried as a juvie by two weeks."

"Fuck."

"I found a protector, so it wasn't so bad." He hadn't meant to let that slip. Toby didn't need to know he'd been a bitch. He sure as hell didn't need to know his 'protector' had been a neo-Nazi who, thank god, had kept Chris's skinny, teen-age ass all to himself. At least he hadn't been traded out for cigarettes and porn mags.

"My so-called protector was an abusive control freak who loved hurting and demeaning me."

Toby had been relaxed, even content while he was eating. Now his hands were balled into fists on his thighs, his face twisted with bitter rage. Chris was finally starting to see what was underneath the bland surface that Toby projected, camouflage for all kinds of fascinating stuff underneath.

Chris winced in sympathy. Toby must have seemed like a real prize for the thugs in prison. Absolutely clueless, soft, no real defenses against hardened cons.

Prison wasn't easy for anyone, but at least Chris hadn't been a cherry ripe for the picking. Chris had been in trouble, at home, school, on the streets, since he was old enough to steal a pack of chewing gum from the corner store. He'd been green going in, but not so bad that he didn't know how to find himself a decent protector, one who wouldn't trade him out like a whore or beat him too often.

From the hard slant of Toby's mouth, he must have had a very different experience.

"Was the drunk driving your first offense?"

Toby picked up a napkin and started to swipe at his hands, his movements jerky. "I got a DUI the year before, but my father handled it. He made sure it wasn't brought up at my trial. Essentially, the vehicular manslaughter was my first offense. Too bad the judge had an ax to grind. She threw the book at me, gave me the toughest sentence possible."

"I bet she was up for reelection."

Toby dropped the now shredded napkin, finally meeting Chris's eyes. "Something like that."

"How long were you in?"

"Three years. I didn't serve the entire sentence. My father got a retrial, and very nearly got Judge Lima thrown off the bench." Toby laughed, an angry sound. "My father all but moved heaven and Earth to get me out of there. Pulled strings, called in favors, hired a team of investigators to dig into Judge Lima's background. It got ugly there for a while, but he got me out."

Chris remembered being a scared seventeen year old kid and getting a court appointed lawyer who had plea bargained him into Lardner. His mother had washed her hands of him, told him there was nothing she could do for him. His father had been gone for a couple of years by that point. That last phone call asking his mother to bail him out was the last time he'd talked to anyone in his family. After that, he didn't care if any of them lived or died.

Toby probably deserved to go to prison just as much as Chris had. But that didn't mean that either case had been handled fairly. Not that Chris ever expected fairness in this universe, but it was hard to be philosophical when you're getting fucked in the ass.

"You have a good family, Toby."

"Better than I deserve."

Chris couldn't resist touching Toby. He only meant to give a little comfort and maybe get some in return, but when his hand landed between Toby's shoulder blades, Toby's entire body flinched. Immediately, Chris jerked his hand away, but Toby was already off the couch and half way across the room before Chris could blink.

---

One minute he was sitting on the couch, the next he was standing there staring at a blank wall. A throbbing in his head matched the pounding of his heart and a fine sweat had broken out over his body.

He tuned in to hear Chris talking in a low, calm voice, like he was talking to a spooked horse. "It's okay. Everything's okay, Toby. I didn't mean to startle you."

Taking a deep breath, Toby waited until his heart had slowed down to turn and face Chris. "I don't know what's wrong with me." The words just slipped out.

Cautiously, Chris stood up, but kept his hands slightly away from his body, palms open. "In prison, you're always watching your back." He kept his voice calm, still in calming the crazy man mode. "You never know when someone is going to come at you. So when someone touches you unexpectedly, you're ready to fight. I'm lucky you didn't punch my lights out." Chris tried for a reassuring smile, but it wasn't quite convincing.

"Don't even joke about it."

"Okay, okay. Look, sit down, relax. I won't touch you again."

"That's not-- " Toby sighed in frustration. It hadn't been the touching. Toby liked the touching. That should be freaking him out more than his fucked up startle reflex. Rubbing at his forehead, Toby headed toward the door. The damn headache was back. "I should go."

"Wait, we need to talk," Chris said, meeting Toby at the door but giving him plenty of room.

"Chris-- "

"You forgot that I still need someone to look after Dani on Monday. Only for one day, Toby. She can go back to her regular sitter on Tuesday."

"After all this you still trust me to look after your daughter?"

"She'll be fine with you. I trust you."

That was a lot to think about, but at the moment all Toby wanted was to get out. Chris wasn't exactly blocking the door, but he was right there and Toby didn't want to have to brush by him to get to it.

"Fine, fine!" Impatiently, Toby waved Chris off. "Drop her off on Monday." Chris had enough sense get out of the way as Toby bolted out the door.

---

Chris watched the tail lights of Toby's SUV disappear down the street. As stressed as Toby was, Chris expected him to peel out of the driveway, but he carefully backed into the street. He was going to be okay.

Closing the door, Chris realized that Toby had left his jacket. The box of pizza still sat on the table. Chris started cleaning up the mess.

The sensible thing to do would be to call Toby and cancel on him. When he had spotted Toby at the park, Chris had been looking for an easy con. It had been a while and Chris needed a job that would be fast, nothing too complicated.

Toby was all kinds of complicated.

As Chris stuffed the leftover pizza into the fridge, he knew damn well he wasn't going to do the sensible thing.

---

For the first time in years, Toby set his alarm clock to go off. It was little more than a pointless gesture since he woke up a sweaty sheet-tangled mess as usual. He was just getting out of the shower when he heard the alarm go off in the bedroom. Not a great start to the day, but he had hot coffee waiting when Chris dropped Dani off.

Chris looked relaxed and well rested as he stood drinking a cup of coffee in Toby's kitchen. Toby, on the other hand, felt exhausted from the constant nightmares that had plagued his sleep all weekend. He'd spent Sunday dozing on the couch, startling himself awake with imagined dangers, trying to get some kind of rest. When he wasn't on the couch, he was up pacing, trying to convince himself that one day of baby sitting wasn't going to kill him. More importantly, it wasn't going to harm Dani, either.

Toby had to admit, though, that having Chris there, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee and looking like he didn't have any worries, did a lot to put Toby at ease. By the time Chris left for work, Toby had more confidence that he could manage one day with Dani.

It didn't take Toby long to realize that he wasn't exactly equipped for keeping a toddler entertained all day.

Pot and pans on the kitchen floor could only work for so long. It had been fun, though, watching Dani pound away with wooden spoons in joyous abandon. Years ago, Toby would have found it annoying as hell, but so many years away from his own children gave him a different perspective.

By noon, Toby was out of ideas for keeping a toddler amused and away from dangerously fascinating things like power outlets. He had a few board games on a shelf for when his kids came over, but little else to keep Dani occupied. Toby preferred to take the kids out, rather than stay cooped up in the house, too stifling and closed in even with the children there.

After lunch and a brief nap for Dani, Toby did what any self-respecting man would do when he had an inquisitive toddler on his hands:

"Hello, Mom? Mind if I come over? I have a situation."

---

Chris usually wore coveralls to and from work. Knowing he would be seeing Toby later, he'd brought fresh clothes to change into. A quick wash up in the men's room and he was as clean as he was going to get without some serious time in his own bathroom at home.

Toby seemed to appreciate the effort. From the way his eyes flicked over Chris, his jeans and black sweater, he seemed to like the change from the stained gray coveralls he'd arrived in that morning.

Toby had looked good that morning, all grumpy and sleep tousled. It had been nice sharing a cup of coffee, not talking much as they both waited for the caffeine to kick in. Toby looked even better now in khakis and blue polo shirt. He looked good in blue.

When Dani spotted Chris, she squealed and got up from a pile of toys to run to him. He couldn't help the burst of warmth that spread through him as he lifted her up, spun her around before settling her on his hip.

Chris did a double take when he noticed Dani's new clothes. Then he saw the shopping bags neatly piled by the side of the couch.

"Toby, you didn't have to buy her new clothes." he said, feeling vaguely insulted. He could afford to dress his kid, thank you very much.

"Hey, don't look at me. That was my Mom. All I wanted to do was pick up a few toys for Dani. It was Mom's idea to go on a shopping spree."

"Dani has plenty of toys, she doesn't need any more."

"Look around, Chris. All I have is furniture and a few books. I don't have anything to keep a toddler occupied all day. And anyway, Mom had a blast."

"What does your mom have to do with all this?"

Looking sheepish, Toby said, "I had to call for reinforcement about the third time Dani tried to play with one of the power outlets. She turned it into a game and kept trying to touch them every time I told her 'no'."

"I didn't think she'd be that much trouble."

"Oh, no, no," Toby said, waving it off. "She wasn't any trouble at all. Mom and I had a lot of fun with her. It's just that this place isn't child proof." Toby rummaged around in one of the bags. "In fact, I got this booklet on child proofing your home, and I'm going to work on it over the next couple of day for the next time Dani comes over."

It made him feel good that Toby was making long term plans that included him and Dani. Still, from looking at the logos on the shopping bags, Mrs. Beecher had spent a small fortune on Dani.

"At least let me pay for this stuff."

"No way," Toby said, dropping the booklet back into one of the bags. "All this was my Mom's idea."

"Then I owe her a tune-up on her car."

"Done," Toby agreed too damn fast. The bastard knew that ten years worth of free tune-ups wouldn't cover what Mrs. Beecher had spent on Dani.

Chris scowled, not really meaning it but it was the principle of the thing, as Toby picked up a coat to put on Dani. It was pink with a cartoon character on the left shoulder that Chris recognized from TV but that he couldn't remember the name of.

"Dani hates pink," Chris grumbled.

"I'm sure she does," Toby replied, giving Chris a not-so-sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"She does!"

Toby smirked and shoved a bunch of shopping bags into Chris's hand. "Don't forget the Halloween party."

It was a surprise to find himself standing on the front step, the door shutting behind him. Damn. It had been years since he'd gotten such a perfectly executed bum's rush. "Asshole," he muttered.

"Asshoe," Dani repeated.

"That better not be your first word. Your mother would haunt me if I put that in your baby book."

---

It would have been nice to sit and talk with Chris for a while but Toby knew he'd had enough socializing for one day. He was beginning to recognize his limits and he was already too close to the line after a long day of shopping with his mom and Dani.

Toby began picking up the toys in the living room, taking them upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. It wasn't like the room ever contained actual guests and the toys made it look more homey.

Three months ago, Toby had hated the place, the big empty rooms too much for someone who had lived in a tiny pod for three years. He'd asked his parents to find him a small apartment, a studio or one bedroom knowing that that was all he could manage. Naturally, they'd bought him a three bedroom townhouse instead.

Toby had been desperate to see his kids; it had been nearly a year since he'd allowed his parents to bring them to the playroom at Oz. He just didn't want his kids there, in that place, their innocence a sharp contrast to the dreariness of the world he lived in. He didn't want them contaminated - by him, by that place.

He couldn't bring them into that empty, sterile townhouse, either.

He could have called on his parents for help, but they had already done so much for him. As much as they had helped, they also hindered. They wanted things from Toby, things he knew he couldn't give any more, not without losing more pieces of himself.

So he had turned to Angus and his fiancee. Sandra had turned out to be a godsend. With no credit limit, she'd had a ball decorating Toby's house. The whole place now had a distinctly masculine flavor, but with enough of a woman's touch to make it cozy. And it was all child friendly; Toby didn't need to worry if one of the kids accidentally spilled juice on the sofa. Child friendly but not child proof.

Putting the bag with all the child safety items in the office closet, he went to his favorite chair and sat down. Toby picked up a book from the stack on the table next to his chair. He'd read for an hour or so, heat up a microwave dinner for later, then hit the sack.

Maybe he'd sleep through the night for a change.

---

Dani was fussy that night and it had taken a while to get her down, but she had finally fallen asleep, clutching her blue dog. Chris still felt restless, and it was too early to go to bed. He couldn't go for a ride, either, and blow some of the tension out of his head.

He had the goose that laid the golden egg right there, and he wasn't doing a damn thing with it. Toby had money, the family had money, and Chris needed to get his head together, figure out a plan and free up some of that money for his own pockets.

Getting up, Chris went to the kitchen and tossed the empty beer bottle. The restlessness wasn't quite gone, but he locked up the house and went to bed anyway. In the dark, he kept turning the problem over in his head.

Chris had made a lucky choice when he picked Toby out at the park. Toby was already learning to trust Chris. He had let Chris comfort him and had held on to him so hard when he'd had that weird seizure or whatever it was. When Chris was careful, Toby allowed his touch and reached for him right back.

Fuck! Was that why he was dragging his feet? He didn't do that crap any more. It was kid stuff, all that fucking around, all those pretty boys with their sleek, gym pumped bodies. He'd grown up, got married, and even though he'd been a shit about a lot of things, he'd always been faithful to them right up until the divorce papers came through.

In between marriages there had only been women, and the occasional mark, older guys that Chris used, then bilked out of their money. He was too old now to play those kinds of games any more. He'd long ago lost his jailbait looks; there weren't any randy perverts out to seduce him, or at least think they were seducing him when it was actually the other way around.

Chris wasn't interested in those kinds of schemes, anyway. Toby wasn't the sugar daddy type and Chris wasn't anybody's boy toy any more.

It'd just been a long time for him, that's all. There had been that chick he'd picked up to take care of Dani right after Bonnie died but that had only lasted two weeks. That had just been fucking.

Before that, Chris was too busy trying to hold down his job and take care of Bonnie while she was struggling and finally losing her battle with cancer. Going back even farther, it was the end of his marriage to Bonnie, the fighting, the tears. He'd hated divorcing her that second time but the clinging and demands made him fucking crazy. It wasn't until she got pregnant that she became truly happy and content since the first time he'd met her.

It would be easy to go out and find a warm body to fuck, but that wouldn't solve anything. Fucking wasn't what he needed. That had always been his problem: fucking wasn't enough for him, never had been, never would be. Kitty, Bonnie, Angelique, Bonnie again. He'd married all of them. A part of him needed that piece of paper, those vows.

Lying in the dark, Chris couldn't convince his body that he couldn't have that with Toby.

Chris let his hand drift over his bare chest, wondered if Toby had a lot of hair or if he was smooth. Did Toby have a treasure trail? Hand drifting down, down, down with his thoughts, Chris lightly traced the line of hair leading down to his cock.

Lazily, his cock responded, getting harder as Chris gently tugged at the curls around the base. Kicking the blankets off, he let his legs fall open, imagining Toby's broad hand cupping his balls, rolling them, scratching over the surface then lifting them up to get at the tender skin underneath.

Chris gasped as his fingertip circled his hole, feeling the muscle relax, aching for more. It had been such a long time since anyone had touched him there, even longer since he'd been fucked, and he suddenly wanted it with a longing that made him push his finger in, not caring that there wasn't any lubricant. It was hot inside, tight, like he'd never been fucked. And it wasn't enough. He needed a cock, he needed Toby to fuck him, get inside him and fuck him until he didn't feel empty any more.

A finger wasn't going to satisfy him. Pulling it out, Chris took his cock in hand and jacked off, fast and efficient, just enough to relieve the tension.

When he was done, he got up and took a shower, pushing all thoughts of Toby out of his head.

---

Toby snapped the book shut in irritation. It was an old favorite but couldn't seem to hold his attention. He was still on edge, his thoughts wandering - to Dani, his kids, Chris.

Chris in that black sweater. Quite a contrast to the gray coveralls he's worn that morning when he'd dropped Dani off. He probably didn't want to show up all dirty and sweaty after working on cars all day. Toby wouldn't have minded.

Checking the time, Toby decided to skip dinner and go to bed early.

Later, staring up at the darkened ceiling, Toby decided that an early bedtime had been a bad idea. Stretching, he shoved the covers down. Five minutes later, he pulled them back up. This was ridiculous.

Shoving the covers down again, Toby wriggled out of his sleep pants and tossed them on the floor. He just needed to relieve some tension. Cock already stirring with interest, Toby stroked his fingers down his chest to take himself in hand. He kept his touch light as he brought himself to full hardness. Might as well enjoy himself since he did this so rarely.

After everything Schillinger had put him through, it had been months after he had freed himself from the bastard before Toby was comfortable even masturbating again. His date the other night had been the first attempt at contact with another adult, and he hadn't gotten a kiss out of it. It would have been nice to know if he could touch someone else in even a mildly sexual way.

She'd been pretty too. Sweet. Her sister had been a bitch about the whole mess, though. Marylin had been nice. Smelled good.

Toby kept his touch light and teasing as he brought his free hand up to tug at a nipple.

She'd looked so good in that slinky black dress, the way it clung to her breasts.

Toby's hand went still as he flashed on Chris in that black sweater, the way it had molded to his shoulders, his chest. It had looked soft and inviting.

Everything about Chris was an invitation.

Hesitantly, Toby's hand moved, a single stroke from the base of his cock to the tip as an image of Chris smiling, eyes warm, filled his mind. He shouldn't be thinking about Chris, his friend, a man, that way but his cock seemed to be in charge, hard and eager in his hand.

A man, Chris, made him hot, made him gasp as pleasure coiled low in his gut, as his thighs flexed with tension. What did his skin feel like under that sweater? Would he kiss?

Toby moved his fingers from his nipple to his lips, tracing the yielding softness of his lower lip, pressing the tip inside to graze his tongue. Oh, yes, he would kiss and he would be good at it.

Toby wanted to kiss a man. A strong, muscular man who for some indefinable reason didn't make him feel threatened. A man who made him feel safe. Chris.

With a groan, Toby's hips snapped up off the bed, thrusting his cock into his grip, come spattering across his belly. Toby worked his cock through the last shivers of pleasure because damn, that had been good.

Lying there, Toby had to laugh - a little surprised where his thoughts had led him, and a lot pleased with himself. It was a harmless fantasy; it didn't have to mean anything. As Toby got out of bed to get a shower, he wondered if maybe it could mean something.

---

It was a swanky neighborhood with gracious homes sprawled out on gigantic lots, not at all like the new money McMansions springing up in developments all over the place. The Beecher place was made of dark rose colored brick surrounded by a black wrought iron fence with massive brick pillars.

It was barely 5:30, but golden light spilled from the windows. Professionally placed spot lights illuminated Halloween and autumnal decorations scattered around the lawn - a scarecrow looming over bales of hay, jack-o-lanterns under an old gnarled tree, a cauldron with a green-faced witch leaning over it.

There were already a dozen cars parked along the circular drive, and it still wasn't hard to find a place to park close to the house. Chris refused to feel embarrassed about parking his old Ford amongst the late model SUVs and Mercedes Benzes.

With Dani propped on one hip and the stupid diaper bag on his shoulder, Chris walked past more jack-o-lanterns to the front door. He didn't know what it meant that hauling Dani around like that was becoming as familiar as the leather jacket he'd bought years ago when he'd first started earning his own money.

There were speakers hidden somewhere in the decorations around the entry emitting ghostly groans, shrieks and other spooky noises. Shaking his head, Chris lifted the brass knocker and let it fall with a loud bang. He didn't have long to wait.

The man that opened the door stood half a head taller than Chris, and he'd still be slightly taller even without the thick soled boots he was wearing.

"Trick or treat," Chris said. "Toby invited me."

"Oh, right," the man said, opening the door wide. "Come in!"

Chris stepped in just in time to watch a herd of boys dressed in costumes ranging from a cowboy to Darth Vader, barrel down the hall toward the back of the house. There were even more decorations in the hall, and Chris found himself distracted by fake spider webs with black plastic spiders. He didn't even notice the man approach with a gigantic bowl of candy until one green tinted hand dropped a load of candy into Dani's Halloween bag.

"What a lovely, little princess!" The bolts fastened to the sides of his neck bobbed with every word. "Here, let me take your bag and coats."

He kept talking as he took their things, hanging them up in the closet. "The kids are mostly in the den, down the hall and to the left. The buffet is set up in the dining room, just help yourself. Most of the men are hiding out in the library. Go there if you need a break from all the noise." With that, childish shrieks broke out from the back of the house.

"Chris!"

Toby was coming toward him, a broad smile on his face. Chris was relieved to see that Toby's only concession to the holiday was to wear all black, and damn, it looked good on him.

"Dad, this is my friend Chris Keller." Toby smoothed his hand over Dani's hair. She had refused to wear the silver tiara that went with the pink costume. "And this is Dani."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Keller," Mr. Beecher said, but he was distracted by the door knocker. "If you'll excuse me, looks like we have more victims-- I mean guests." He nodded at Chris and opened the door to shouts of trick or treat.

Toby took Chris by the arm and guided him down the hall to where most of the noise was coming from. Before they reached the room, Holly ran up screeching, "Dani!" like they hadn't seen each other in years. Dani squirmed and kicked until Chris put her down. "You're a Princess! Look, I'm a ballerina!" Holly twirled around showing off her pink outfit, complete with white tutu.

"It might be a little overwhelming," Toby said, apprehensively as Holly hauled Dani into the room. Toby didn't seem to be in any hurry to go in.

Chris put his hand on the small of Toby's back. "We can take breaks when it gets to be too much."

There was a soft smile playing at the corners of Toby's mouth as he gazed at Chris. "You're a nice guy. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Before he could answer, Toby had him by the arm and was pulling him into the fray.

---

Toby could feel the tension drain out of him now that Chris was there. He didn't know what it was about the man that put him at ease, but Toby was grateful for it. The party hadn't gotten off to a good start for Toby, the spooky soundtrack, decorations fluttering, lights blinking. Then the kids, so many kids, running and screaming everywhere. Toby hid out in the kitchen, sitting at a table in a corner drinking coffee, listening to his mother ordering around the caterers.

He might actually be able to enjoy the party now that Chris and Dani were there. The main room had been divided into booths with different games. Holly and Dani immediately went over to the face painting artist to have a black cat painted on Dani's face, identical to the one on Holly's.

As they moved from one area to another, mostly watching the kids try and win prizes or getting candy tossed into their trick or treat bags, Chris's hand rarely left the small of Toby's back. It should have been annoying, but Toby found himself relaxing into the touch. After a while, Toby figured, why not? If Chris didn't have any qualms about touching another man, then why should he?

---

All of the furniture had been removed from the room to set it up for the games. To one side was a wheel of fortune, a pretty woman dressed as a 40's gun moll spinning the wheel every few minutes. There was a ring toss for the younger children and a couple of games where a ball had to be thrown. The gorgeous blond in an Emma Peel style catsuit in a kissing booth almost made Chris whistle out loud.

"That's my cousin you're drooling over, mister," Toby smirked, punching Chris lightly on the arm.

"If she was my cousin, there would definitely be some kissing going on," Chris said, not taking his eyes off of her, because wow!

"C'mon, Casanova, I'll introduce you to my brother's fiancee."

The fiancee turned out to be the gun moll spinning the wheel of fortune. Susan wasn't a drop dead looker like the blonde at the kissing booth, but still pretty enough in her sequined headband and flapper costume. Toby introduced them and Chris shook her slim, well-manicured hand.

"You want to try your luck on the wheel of fortune?" she asked, smiling.

"Sure. How much for a ticket?"

"Five dollars."

"Whoa, you're kidding, right?"

"Don't worry about it," Toby said, bumping his shoulder. "You're my guest."

The place was crowded, but not so bad that Toby had to be right on top of him. "Aren't all these people your guests too?" he asked, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'll pay for a ticket."

"It's all for charity," Susan said. "The kids can play all they want but the adults have to pay."

Chris waved at the booths and decorations. "This set-up ain't cheap. You'll be lucky if you break even."

Toby shrugged. "Almost everyone made their real contribution when they got here. That's why my dad is at the door. You're lucky he didn't shake you down for a couple of grand the minute you walked in."

Chris was distracted from that tidbit of information by Toby's hand brushing down his back coming to rest at his waist. Handing over a five, Chris decided to experiment with how far Toby was willing to go with all this touchy feely stuff. As Susan turned to spin the wheel of fortune, Chris shifted closer to Toby, letting his arm press against Toby's chest.

They were all but plastered against each other until another couple came up and drew Toby's attention away. Susan leaned close enough to Chris that he could see that behind that sweet smile was a lot of sharp little teeth. "Hurt him, and I'll hunt you down and cut your balls off."

Chris said, mildly enough, "He's a big boy."

"With a big family."

"Good to know."

The wheel finally stopped spinning. Susan picked up a grab bag and shoved it at Chris's gut a little harder than necessary. Examining the colorful bag, Chris said, "So this is what I get for five bucks?"

Toby broke away from the other couple. "What'd I miss?" Chris held up the bag. Toby grinned. "Just remind yourself that it's for charity."

Holly ran up to them pulling Dani along with her. Dani now had a black cat painted on her cheek.

"Look what I won," Chris said, handing his prize over to Holly. She squealed and to his surprise gave him a quick hug. Then she gave the grab bag to Dani and helped her open it. There were several pieces of candy and a couple of trinkets but no way was that junk worth five bucks. What a rip off.

There was a low chuckle in his ear and Chris turned to find Toby's eyes lit with laughter. "Charity," he said, as if he could read Chris's mind.

They said good-bye to Susan and began to wander from booth to booth. It amused Chris that every time he tried to head over to the kissing booth, Toby steered him somewhere else.

"I guess you're not going to introduce me to your cousin."

"Not in this lifetime," Toby said, pulling Chris over to the ring toss.

It wasn't his imagination that Toby always kept a hand on him. The room wasn't so big or crowded that it was necessary for Toby to stay so close. He also noticed that even though Toby occasionally touched Holly or Dani, some part of Toby was constantly brushing against some part of Chris.

Chris didn't mind the attention. At all.

Mostly, he kept a hand on Chris's arm but when he was daring, or when Chris eyeballed the hot catsuited cousin, that hand would move to Chris's shoulder, sometimes his back.

Chris returned the favor. He kept his hand in the small of Toby's back and when it looked like he was getting upset or riled, he'd move his hand in soothing circles until Toby settled down.

The kids were having fun. Chris held Dani up so she could toss rings with Holly by her side. Since it was the kids playing, Chris didn't have to pay. From Toby's knowing look, he was doing that mind reading thing again.

Harry and his brat posse showed up, and Chris found himself giving pointers on shooting a foam ball through a hoop. Each boy clamored for his attention, all of them wanting a turn at winning prizes. It was a while before Chris realized that Toby had wandered off.

The boys finally ran off, and Chris had a chance to look around. The minute he spotted Toby he knew something was wrong, even though he couldn't see Toby's face. Maybe it was the way he was standing so still while the crowd milled around him or the way Holly clutched his hand, her face anxious and unhappy.

Chris worked his way around the other party goers, careful not to come up on Toby from behind. Toby wasn't completely out of it, not like last time, but he was spacey and as Chris got closer he could tell that Toby was shaking.

"Holly, can you take care of Dani for a little bit?"

"Is Dad going to be okay?"

"Yeah, he's going to be fine. I'm just going to take him somewhere quiet for a little while. Take Dani over to that face painting lady and get her a flower or something. Can you do that?"

She nodded but looked up at her dad, squeezing his hand to get his attention. "Dad, Chris is here. Are you going to be okay?"

"Holly?" Toby blinked, shook his head, and seemed to make an effort to get himself to focus. "We still going to the buffet?"

"Go on," Chris said, shooing Holly off. "I'll take care of this."

She didn't need to be told again as she let go of Toby's hand, grabbed Dani's and took off. Chris slid an arm around Toby's shoulders, tucking him in close.

"Chris?"

"Yeah. Let's get you out of here."

Chris maneuvered them out of the room using himself as a buffer between Toby and anyone in the way of their exit. The hallway was quieter, but there were still a lot of people, a couple sitting on a decorative bench, others sitting on the stairs, a few standing off in a small group drinking something that looked a lot stronger than punch, talking in low important voices. He wondered if Toby's father cared that they were discussing business at his party.

They passed the room with the buffet set-up which was just as crowded as the game room. There was a library or office of some sort with still more people. Then the kitchen which had servers rushing everywhere and a woman snapping orders like a drill sergeant.

He was getting a little desperate until Toby took some initiative, slung an arm around Chris's waist and guided him down the hall to the last door. Chris got a sense of old furniture and a damn big piano in the shadows at the back of the room before Toby wrapped both arms around Chris and burrowed in like a crowbar couldn't pry him loose.

Chris held on tight, nuzzling the soft hair above Toby's ear, breathing in the scent that was becoming familiar. Standing quietly, Toby's warm sturdy body filling his arms, Chris was surprised to feel tension draining out of him too. Closing his eyes, Chris let his lips brush the curve of Toby's ear.

---

It was stupid to hang onto Chris like a shipwreck survivor clinging to debris to keep from drowning. But that's what it had felt like in the crowded room, drowning, as dark spots popped around the edge of his vision.

Toby had been standing in line at a booth with Holly and Dani waiting their turn when the man behind them started bumping against Toby's back. His hearty laughter at another person's jokes had made Toby want to grind his teeth. The rest started to blur after the man called out, "Well, hello there, sweet pea!"

Toby shuddered, remembering. The man's voice hadn't been at all like Schillinger's, but Toby couldn't force himself to turn around and confirm it. He couldn't move forward, either. Holly had gripped his hand, grounding him, forcing him to fight to keep his head.

Chris had a knack for rescuing him. It shouldn't make him feel good that he seemed to need rescuing all the time and Chris was willing to do it.

He needed to pull himself together. Take a deep breath and--

That's when it hit him in the hind-brain: Chris smelled good.

It was a feeling of safety that made Toby tighten his arms around Chris and turn his face into the curve of his neck. His mouth started to water and it was all he could do not to lick at the throbbing pulse point in Chris's throat.

He could feel the low growl Chris made as Toby fumbled at the back of his shirt trying to get to skin. Toby felt electrified with want, a feeling he thought he'd lost years ago.

"Toby, Dad wants you to-- oh! Um, sorry! I'll wait out here."

Toby jerked out of Chris's arms in time to see Angus back out the door.

---

Fuck, fuck, goddam, fuck! Chris had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from yelling his thoughts out loud.

Chris wasn't sure what had kicked Toby into gear but it had been damned exciting to feel him take the initiative. Toby had yanked at Chris's shirt like he wanted to tear it right off his back. There had been one moment when he'd felt Toby's soft mouth brush base of his throat when that asshole had walked in.

Toby, tousled and a bit dazed, stared at the closed door. "That was my brother, Angus."

"Think I made a good first impression?"

A slow, almost shy, smile lit his face as he turned those blue eyes on Chris. "You don't need to impress anyone."

So, they weren't going to have a hot and heavy make out session, but as Toby took his hand and led him toward the door, Chris couldn't find it in himself to be too disappointed about it.

---

Introductions only took a minute. Angus and Chris sized each other up as they shook hands, eyeballing each other like a couple of wary dogs. Amusingly, it reminded Toby of his days as a lawyer - attempting to both impress and intimidate rivals with a hand shake.

"Toby, Dad wants you to man the front door for a while so he can mingle. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all." Toby turned to Chris. "You mind taking Holly and Dani to the buffet?"

"Sure," Chris said, running his hand down Toby's arm. "I'll bring you a plate."

"You don't have to."

"I don't mind."

They stood there for a long moment staring and smiling at each other until Angus cleared his throat. "I better get back to the party, see to the guests," he said, rolling his eyes at the two of them before walking off.

---

For the rest of the evening, Chris divided his time between Toby at the front door and shepherding the kids around the party. He brought only one plate of food back to Toby, piled high so they could share. They sat on the stairs watching the front door, passing one cup of punch back and forth between them.

There were a few trick or treaters but mostly Toby got up to help guest find their coats as they left the party. The noise level dropped dramatically as a particularly large group of guests hit the road. Reluctantly, Chris checked his watch.

"I guess I better be going too. It's way past Dani's bedtime."

Clearly disappointed, Toby followed Chris as he went to get Dani who was half-asleep in Holly's lap where they were sitting on the floor near the wheel of fortune. Susan picked up one of the last few goodie bags from the table and tossed it to Chris. "Poor thing is all partied out," she said. "Toby, Angus told me that Harry fell asleep in your dad's office. You might want to take him up to bed. Holly too."

"I'm not tired," Holly insisted.

"C'mon, kiddo," Toby said. "It's time for Dani to go home and for you to get some shut eye."

Toby and Chris disentangled the kids, Chris lifting Dani up to his shoulder where she fell asleep. Holly slung an arm around Toby's waist and leaned against him, yawning widely.

There were so many things Chris wanted to do, and he couldn't do a single one of them. There were too many people around to do more than wish that he could lean over and kiss Toby.

From the look on Toby's face, he was having the same thoughts.

He didn't have a clue what he was doing with Toby. He'd messed around with other men but that had been to blow off steam or for a job. This was something else. It should probably scare the hell out of him.

As Toby got their coats out of the closet, Chris realized that he was more afraid of walking away than he was of sticking around.

---

With Holly and Harry tucked in, too exhausted to ask for bedtime stories or a last minute drink of water, Toby made his way downstairs. The caterers were already gone, the extra help his mother hired cleaning up the worst of the mess. The professional decorators would arrive in the morning to take down the Halloween decorations and put up the stuff for Thanksgiving.

Toby was getting ready to grab his coat when his father called out to him. His father had changed out of his costume and into casual clothes, but Toby had to hide a smile when he saw a smudge of green paint right under his left ear.

"I'd like to speak with you, son. In my office?" It wasn't so much a request as an order couched in that way that made you think you could say 'no' but really couldn't. Stuffing his coat back into the closet, Toby followed his father down the hall.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Please, sit down." Another order, this one made Toby want to fold his arms and stand there like a defiant child. He sat.

His father took his time, fixed himself a drink, offered Toby a Coke. Getting impatient wouldn't hurry things along, Toby knew better than to try and rush his father. It wasn't until Toby let out a jaw-cracking yawn that his father finally quirked a brow at him and sat down behind his desk.

"I think the party went well," his father started.

There was no way Toby could sit there and spend twenty minutes shooting the bull before his father got around to what he really wanted to talk about. It's late, he was tired and he had a hell of a lot to think about.

"It was a great party, Dad, as usual. But that's not what you want to talk to me about. I'd like to get home before I turn into a pumpkin. Mind cutting to the chase?"

Lips pursed, his father hated to be pushed when he had his own scenario laid out in his head; his father took a sip of his drink and went to Plan B. There was always a Plan B. And a C and a D. It made him a damn good lawyer and the reason Toby was no longer rotting in prison.

"All right, son," he said, setting his drink on his desk. "I'd like to know about this Chris Keller."

Inwardly, Toby groaned in exasperation. "There's no big mystery, Dad. I met him at the park. The kids played together, we started hanging out. No big deal."

"I see." He said it the same way he would if he were trying to get information out of a recalcitrant client; polite and determined, but keeping his real opinion to himself.

"Dad," Toby said, exasperated. "He's a friend. A good guy. I thought you'd be happy that I'm getting out, meeting people."

"What about your old friends? I saw Bill Livingston the other day. He mentioned that he hasn't seen you. I thought you were going to call him."

"No, Dad, you were the one who wanted me to call him," Toby said, wearily. This was yet another iteration of the same argument they'd been having since Toby got out of prison.

His father let a little of his own exasperation show. "I don't understand why you've been avoiding all your old friends. I don't know why you'd rather associate with this Keller person than a man you've known since Harvard."

"Bill Livingston is an alcoholic." Toby raised his hand as his father opened his mouth to protest. "I know, I know. Not everyone who has a drink now and then is an alcoholic but Bill used to be one of my drinking buddies. We'd go to a bar after work and not leave until we had to. When we played golf, there was always a cooler full of beer in the golf cart. I know an alcoholic when I see one."

"He's a good man, Tobias." It made his stomach twist in a knot when he realized that his father didn't believe him.

"We don't have anything in common, except drinking."

"And you have more in common with this Keller?"

"Honestly? Yes. I have a hell of a lot more in common with Chris than I ever did with Bill, Harvard and drinking not withstanding."

"But you know nothing about him!"

"So?" Toby couldn't help but laugh a little. "Dad, c'mon. You meet someone, you hang out, you get to know them. Sometimes you make a good friend, sometimes you don't. That's how it works with regular people."

"And we're not regular people," he retorted, his mouth a stiff line.

"The Beechers and the Livingstons are about as far from a regular guy like Chris Keller as the Earth is from the moon. Don't try and pretend otherwise."

"And you'd rather associate with this regular guy."

Toby sighed. "Dad, I'd rather associate with someone who doesn't treat me like tainted goods because I've been to prison."

His father had a good game face but not so good that Toby couldn't tell that his point had hit the target.

"At the risk of repeating myself, you don't know this man. You have no idea what he might do to you or the children."

"Oh, for God's sake, Dad! Chris's father should be the one talking to him about me being the bad influence! I'm the one who spent three years in prison, one of which I spent being ass raped by a Nazi fuck."

"Tobias!" The shocked anger got through to Toby. He stood up and paced away from his father's desk, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He kept his back to his father trying to get his emotions under control. He was too damned tired to be having this discussion.

He heard his father take a deep breath. "Tobias, that is all in the past, we don't need to speak of it again. And never with that kind of language. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Dad, understood," he said, wearily.

"Now, the other reason I asked you here-- "

"No, Dad, one topic per argument. I'm not moving back here. I'm not ready to be around the kids full time, and they aren't ready either. I've only seen Gary three times since I got out, and I don't think that's going to change any time soon if Gen's parents have anything to say about it. All of us need time to adjust, Dad. We've been over this before."

"If you feel that way about it, then bringing new people into your life, and theirs, is also a bad idea."

Toby turned and stared at his father, who at least had the decency to look away. The man was like a dog with a bone, which made him a good lawyer. It didn't make him a great father at times like this.

"I'm doing the best I can. I'm sorry that isn't enough. I'm going home, now, I need some sleep. Good night, Dad."

"Tobias!" He called out.

Toby closed the door behind him.

---

Toby was lucky that the neighbors hadn't called the police on him by now. He could still hear the echo of his own scream bouncing off the walls, feel the way it scratched his throat as it clawed its way out.

Sitting up, he peeled the sweat soaked t-shirt off, tossed it to the floor. Rubbing his hands over his face and pushing his wet hair back, he calmed enough to kick the blankets off and stumble to the bathroom.

The light was already on. How was that for a grown man, needing a light on all night? The first time he'd tried to sleep with all the lights off, he'd felt like the darkness was pressing in on him closer and closer until he thought he'd suffocate.

His parents still couldn't understand why he didn't let the kids stay overnight. He tried to explain about the nightmares but they just didn't get it. The kids had been through enough because of him, the last thing they needed was to be woken up by their father screaming in the night.

Toby leaned over the sink, splashed cold water on his face. He avoided his reflection in the mirror, not needing to see the dark circles under his eyes.

It looked like he was going to be up for the rest of the night. Again. Putting on a dry t-shirt, he headed downstairs to the kitchen.

One of the best and hardest things about being out of prison was having the freedom to go where he pleased, when he pleased. His body had spent three years being trained to sleep, or at least rest, during certain periods of time. Teaching himself that he could leave his room in the middle of the night had been one of the many lessons he'd had to relearn.

Being able to eat a snack at three in the morning was a novelty that would never get old.

Stopping in the living room, Toby turned on the stereo, keeping it low, a soft background noise that was more for comfort than because he wanted to hear music. The quiet of his condo was another thing he'd had problems getting used to. He usually kept the stereo on when he was home, he still found the TV overwhelming most of the time.

It was stupid how good it felt to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Putting the milk back in the refrigerator after pouring himself a glass felt idiotically satisfying.

The remnants of the nightmare still clung to him even in the bright lights of his kitchen eating a damn sandwich. He wanted the pictures out of his head: Schillinger, Metzger and Mark Mack laughing as his bones snapped. It made him mad when he thought about it, but reliving getting his arms and legs broken wasn't the worst of his nightmares.

It would be nice to talk to someone, hear another voice letting him know that he wasn't alone. Contemplating the phone on the wall, Toby wondered what Chris would do if he called.

Toby wouldn't do it; Chris had to work in the morning. It warmed him to feel like he could, though, like he could call Chris day or night if he really needed to. And Chris could call him too. He was up most nights anyway.

Friends could call on each other. Except they were becoming more than friends. After the Halloween party, there was no denying it.

It was a strange idea, this attraction to a man. It shouldn't be possible after prison. There was a certain level of trepidation at the thought of doing more with Chris than hug him. He wasn't anywhere near ready to take his clothes off with another man, but kissing...

Toby touched his finger to his lower lip contemplating what it would be like to kiss a man. Chris.

It made him feel good. Everything about Chris felt good, felt right. How was that even possible? Chris wasn't trying to seduce him, yet there had been something about him from the moment Toby laid eyes on him. He had been approachable. Enticing. He had teased Toby out of his shell, slipped right through his boundaries.

Toby had no idea where this thing with Chris was going but the flutter of excitement in his belly told him that it was going to be an interesting ride getting there.

---

Dani's face had been folded in lines of displeasure from the moment he picked her up from the babysitter. The woman had shoved the diaper bag at Chris snarling, "Next time bring more diapers, she ran out by lunch. You don't pay me enough to watch your kid and buy diapers too."

Already in a rotten mood himself, the noises of an incipient tantrum from the back seat didn't help matters. At least Dani waited until they got home to start crying.

To Chris's ears, though, Dani's sobs didn't sound like her usual fussing. There was an edge to the sounds she was making, something that alarmed him, not merely got under his skin.

Taking her back to the changing table, Chris cursed when he saw what a very wet diaper was hiding. Everywhere the diaper had covered was bright red, like the worst sunburn he'd ever seen. Not knowing what else to do, Chris went through his usual changing routine and grabbed a wet wipe to clean the baby.

When the wipe rubbed her skin, Dani let out a horrible scream. Frantic, Chris picked her up, made shushing noises as he patted her back, but Dani was too far gone to be soothed. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Still clutching Dani, Chris rushed into the living room and grabbed his jacket, digging for his cell phone. With Dani wailing in his ear, Chris hit speed dial.

As soon as someone picked up, Chris started talking, "Toby! Thank god you're there. I need help."

"Chris? What's going on? Is that Dani?"

"Yes! Who else would it be? Stop asking stupid questions! I need you over here right now."

"Wait, just slow down a minute. Tell me what's going on? Is Dani hurt?"

"Yes, she's hurt! There's something wrong with her." The crying had stopped for a moment as Dani became fascinated with the phone. Chris turned the phone so they could both hear Toby's voice.

"Okay, stay calm, Chris. Is she bleeding? Does she need an ambulance?"

"No, no, I don't think so. She's all red, but there's no bleeding."

"Red?"

"Yeah, down there. You know, the girl parts. And part of her legs and butt, too."

There was an odd sound from the other end of the line, almost like a cough, then Toby said, "I get the picture. I know what the problem is. I'll be there as soon as possible but I have to stop at the drugstore first."

"Drugstore?" Chris asked, but the line was already dead.

Toby arrived with a canvas shopping bag full of stuff Chris hoped would shut Dani up. The crying had started again as soon as Chris had hung up the phone, even more pitiful than before. The relief he felt at seeing Toby made him feel ridiculous, but that didn't stop him from shoving Dani into Toby's arms as soon as he walked through the door.

The sobbing died to shuddery hiccups as soon as Toby took her. "Oh, hey," he said, as soon as he noticed that Dani was naked except for her shirt and socks. Dumping the bag on the coffee table, he settled Dani on her back on the couch.

"Oh, man, this is bad," Toby said.

"How bad?" Chris asked, pacing a little.

"I haven't seen diaper rash this bad since we found out that Holly is allergic to an additive in juice boxes."

"Diaper rash?" Chris wanted to punch something, possibly himself for not realizing the obvious.

"Yeah, but this is pretty bad. Babies don't get diaper rash this bad without a reason."

"She was kind of red yesterday, but I just put extra baby powder on her. It wasn't like this."

Toby started digging through the bag, found a tube of something, and flipped the cap open with his thumb. Squeezing a thick, white dollop of the contents onto his finger, he gently applied the gunk to Dani's skin. Dani made a few fussy noises at Toby who talked back in a quiet voice that seemed to sooth Dani as much as the cream did. When Toby was done, every bit of red was coated with the white stuff and Dani was making baby talk at Toby as if she were confiding something very important.

Chris watched fascinated as Toby put his hand on Dani's belly and gently rocked her. "Yes, I know, I'd cry too if I had a rash that bad." He turned to Chris. "Bring me a diaper, please."

The diaper bag was close by. Opening it up, Chris remembered that there weren't any diapers in there and the small box of wipes was missing too.

"God damn it!"

"You don't want to use that kind of language in front of Dani," Toby gently chided.

"There aren't any diapers in the bag. I always make sure there are plenty since the babysitter complains about it all the time."

Toby continued to rock Dani with his hand on her belly. Exhausted from crying for so long, she had finally quieted down, eyes blinking sleepily.

"Are you sure you gave the sitter enough for the whole day?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. That woman is constantly sweatin' me over bringing enough diapers or wipes. And she charges me for an extra hour if I'm five minutes late picking Dani up."

Toby's face went tight. "Then you're getting ripped off. She's probably using the diapers on other kids and leaving Dani in wet ones too long. And a reputable day care provider isn't going to charge you an extra hour if you're only five minutes late."

Well, fuck.

It wasn't easy to con a con, but it looked like Chris had been made a chump by some fucking babysitter. Quickly adding it up, he realized that he'd been ripped off for a lot more than just diapers. There were all those baby bottles Dani somehow seemed to lose and sometimes the clean change of clothes Chris put in her diaper bag every day turned up missing. Then there was the high chair that Dani had somehow broken and Chris had been ordered to replace. He should have gotten suspicious then but he'd needed the child care service too bad to ask questions.

Chris had been well and truly conned.

He could almost admire the woman, except she had gone too far letting Dani get hurt. And she had miscalculated - bad move to treat a mark like shit on the bottom of her shoe.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Chris!"

Ignoring Toby's frown, Chris snatched up the phone, hitting speed dial for the babysitter. As soon as someone answered, Chris snarled, "You cunt!"

"Chris!" Toby scolded.

Click as she hung up on him. He immediately dialed again. "Don't you hang up on me, you bitch. If I come over there-- " Another hang up.

"Chris!" Toby was off the couch and striding over.

Before Chris knew what he was up to, Toby had grabbed the phone from his hand. Chris lunged for it, but Toby held it behind his back while blocking Chris across the chest with his forearm. In spite of that, Chris got right up in Toby's face.

"Give it back."

"You're scaring the baby," Toby said through gritted teeth. That's when the sobs cut through the rage. Looking over Toby's shoulder, he could see Dani sitting on the couch, face crumpled in distress, tears rolling down her cheeks. Aw, fuck.

Toby moved his arm so that his palm pressed against Chris's chest. "Go to the bathroom, splash some cold water on your face. I'll look after Dani." When Chris hesitated, Toby gave him a little shove. "Go!"

Dragging his feet, Chris went.

The cold water helped cool the first heat of anger enough that he could go out and face Toby and Dani with a better attitude. The anger wasn't white hot any more, but it was still there, a hard knot in the pit of his stomach.

Returning to the living room, Chris watched Toby quietly murmuring to Dani as he got her settled down. Chris was struck by a thought that would solve the whole babysitting problem, but it wouldn't be easy getting Toby on board.

Toby looked up at him. "You need to find a new babysitter, Chris."

Toby was definitely going in the right direction. Sitting on the couch with Dani falling asleep between them, Chris nodded.

"You're right, I can't take her back there. But I don't know what else to do. I had a hard enough time finding a place for Dani to begin with."

Absently, Toby pulled off his jacket and covered Dani with it, tucking it all around her. His hands were careful, but not overly so. They weren't particularly graceful, square and competent, a workman's hands.

Toby was like that all over - sturdy. He still had his prison muscle, but he wasn't bulky with it. Chris licked his lips, remembering how it felt to hold him, wanting to kiss him and having the moment interrupted.

"I remember you mentioning your wife's sister."

Chris shrugged. "She's pissed off at me again. Even if she wasn't, she can't keep Dani longer than a few hours in the evening anyway. She has a full time job and three kids of her own."

It would be better if Toby made the offer rather than Chris ask for such a big favor. Toby kept his head tilted down, avoiding Chris's eyes. The idea was already in his head but he was fighting it. Chris waited.

"We should look in the yellow pages. Call a few day care centers."

Without a word, Chris got up and found the phone book. An hour later, both of them sat and blinked at each other, dazed.

"Unbelievable," Toby said.

"She'll be in college by the time her name gets to the top of the waiting lists."

Dani was beginning to stir awake.

"I need to get dinner started," Chris said, getting up.

"Yeah. Hey, get a diaper, please, or you're going to end up with a wet couch."

When Chris returned, Toby was murmuring to Dani and putting another layer of that white stuff on her. He handed over the diaper and went into the kitchen. Washing his hands, he decided that he wasn't in the mood for anything more complicated than Hamburger Helper. There was time enough to impress Toby with his cooking skills later.

The ground meat was browning when Toby came in and washed his hands. Drying off with a paper towel, he stood next to Chris, his eyes full of curiosity as he watched Chris cook.

"Never seen a man cook before?"

"Of course." It was a long moment before Toby added, "I can push the buttons on a microwave. Sometimes, when the spirit of Julia Child moves me, I can scramble eggs. I've always admired people who can actually cook."

"It's not that complicated, anyone can do it."

"Sometimes, complicated is better," Toby said, his voice going low. Toby moved behind Chris, snugged up against his back, hands resting on his hips. Chris nearly dropped the spatula when Toby's mouth brushed the nape of his neck just under the hairline.

"Toby..."

"I've been trying to find the easy way for months and it hasn't done me a damn bit of good." Toby's arms encircled Chris, one hand splaying over his belly, the other shaping to the curve of his ribs. It was stunning the way something so simple could take his breath away. "I think I'm ready for complicated. Are you?"

"I don't-- I don't know, Toby."

"Good answer." He mouthed the tender skin right behind Chris's ear. "Think about it. Whatever we decide, we'll have to take it slow."

Abruptly, Toby walked away. Every part of his body where Toby had touched suddenly felt cold. Chris could hear Toby in the living room talking to Dani, but he wanted Toby to come back, wrap around him again, and hold on.

---

In the end, Toby brought up the idea of babysitting Dani until Chris could find a decent day care provider. They discussed it over dinner, Chris more interested in teasing Toby about his enthusiasm for Chris's cooking than in being serious.

"It's Hamburger Helper, Toby. Not Chateaubriand."

"Ish good," Toby said around a mouthful of his second helping.

Eventually, they worked out a schedule after Toby helped with the dishes.

"This is temporary until I can find something else," Chris said as Toby shrugged into his jacket. It wasn't all that late, but Toby didn't want to outstay his welcome.

"I know. I'll drop by a few places tomorrow and see if I can get Dani on some waiting lists."

As Toby started for the door, Chris took him by the arm and reeled him in. He was surprised that Chris didn't kiss him, but simply held him for a long moment, face against Toby's hair.

Earlier, it had been exhilarating to wrap his arms around Chris, press his mouth to the nape of his neck, tell him that he was ready for the next step, whatever it might be. It hadn't been planned at all; it had felt like the natural thing to do.

This, too, felt natural, being held so close. He didn't want to leave.

Eventually, the embrace ended, and Toby left, feeling like he was walking several inches about the ground.

---

The next morning, Chris stayed long enough to drink a cup of coffee with Toby before leaving for work. They didn't touch, but they couldn't stop staring at each other in a way that would have been embarrassing if they'd been in public.

The rest of the day was surprisingly fun. With the house child-proofed, and plenty of toys for Dani to play with, Toby found himself relaxing enough to enjoy having a toddler around.

After her nap, Toby took her out to a few day care centers, toured two different places, started the paperwork on getting Dani onto their waiting lists. It was depressing to find out how long those lists were. It looked like he would have to find a private sitter for her.

Then he realized that for all intents and purposes, he was a private babysitter - especially now that it looked like he would be taking care of Dani long term instead of simply as a stopgap measure.

That gave him a lot to think about as he started watching the clock.

---

Chris should have gone straight to Toby's place to pick up Dani, but some unfathomable urge had him aiming his car toward home. As soon as he pulled into the garage, he snatched up his helmet, straddled the bike, and sped out of there.

Getting out of the city at that time of the evening had him taking chances, running yellow lights, taking back alleys, and once driving up onto the sidewalk to get around a stalled vehicle.

Cutting loose from the suburbs, he was finally on the open road. It was too cold to be riding out there in just his leather jacket and blue jeans, but he could only grin into the wind blasting over him and put on more speed.

He hadn't been able to do this in months, not since Bonnie died. The old babysitter expected him to pick Dani up at five on the dot, and bitched him out worse than any of his wives ever had if he was even a minute late.

With the hum of the road under his wheels, and the roar of the engine, Chris could feel the knots tied up inside him begin to unfurl. It was an illusion, but speeding through the lowering night still felt like freedom.

---

At six, Toby heated up a can of ravioli and picked at it while watching Dani make a mess. After that, he gave her a quick bath, put her into clean jammies and read Dr. Seuss books to her until she fell asleep on the couch in his office.

It was well past the time when Chris should have picked Dani up, and he should have called already if there had been some kind of an emergency. Toby called Chris's cell phone a few times, but it went straight to voice mail. He didn't bother leaving a message.

As Toby paced around the living room, keeping his eye on the clock, he forced himself to stop worrying and start thinking.

Chris would have called if there was something wrong. He had to be late for another reason entirely. Maybe he'd gone out for a couple of drinks with his buddies? No, that didn't quite fit, but he knew he was close to the answer.

He considered what Chris had told him about the old babysitter, how she expected Chris to pick Dani up at exactly five. And Chris didn't seem to have anyone else around to give him a hand.

This was probably the first time in months that Chris had had the chance to do something for himself. Whatever he was doing, Toby decided that he wouldn't jump Chris's case unless he showed up drunk.

Toby wasn't going to fight with Chris, but he was going to tell him to at least call next time. Better yet, he needed to tell Toby ahead of time when he had to take care of personal business.

Resolving not to look at the clock again, Toby went into his office and checked on Dani. She didn't stir as he sat in his chair and picked up a book to read.

---

The drive had cleared his head, blown away the stress and anger that had been building for a while now, but there was still one thing he had to do before going to see Toby.

It wasn't the kind of neighborhood that had one of those neighborhood watch programs. Chris eased to the curb and parked his bike under the shadows of a tree. Getting off the bike, he kept himself covered from view, avoiding street lights and the houses that were more brightly lit.

When he got to his destination, Chris couldn't hold back a mean little grin when he saw that the outside lights were off. The car was sitting right there in the driveway instead of pulled into the garage. It was really nice that some people went out of their way to make life easier for Chris.

Reaching into his pocket, Chris pulled out his pocket knife, opening up the blade. It took all of a minute to crouch down next to the car and drive the knife into the back tire. He made sure the cuts were long; a patch wasn't going to fix it. Keeping his head down, he performed the same action on the other three tires.

When he was done, he moved to the shadows at the edge of the yard and looked back at the house.

"Fucking cunt," he whispered. He wouldn't be bringing Dani back here again.

Minutes later, he pulled away from the curb on his bike. Exhaustion dragged at him making it hard to focus. He wanted to just curl up somewhere and sleep.

Only as he pulled into the driveway did Chris let himself think about Toby's reaction to arriving so late. He might have blown this whole new babysitting gig he had set up with Toby. There was probably going to be a fight. He was used to it. He knew exactly what kind of fuck up he was from all his exes, former employers, teachers, and a whole laundry list of other people who seemed to get off on telling him all the ways he was wrong.

When Toby opened the door, the light was behind him, so Chris couldn't tell how mad he was. He stepped back, letting Chris in, not saying a word. Typical. It was the silent treatment right before the nastiest kind of fight. With a sinking feeling, he knew he was going to lose another babysitter, and possibly this thing he had going with Toby, whatever it was.

Bracing himself for a fight, he was surprised when Toby reached up to cup his face in his hand.

"Damn, Chris, you're freezing!"

Toby's hand was shockingly hot against his skin. He began pulling Chris's gloves off, then stuffed them into the pocket of his jacket. As Toby starting tugging the zipper on his jacket, Chris realized his next mistake - he'd come right over on his bike instead of going home for his car. Pulling Chris out of his jacket, Toby tossed it over the back of a chair, hustling him over to the couch.

Pushing him down, Toby said, "You're ice cold! What were you thinking?"

He hadn't really noticed while he was out there riding, but with Toby fussing over him he suddenly noticed that he was shivering; parts of him were almost numb with cold. Toby grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapped it around Chris, tucked it in.

"Where's Dani?" Chris asked through chattering teeth.

"I put her to bed on the sofa in my office. She's fine." Toby shoved him back against some pillows. "I'm going to put on some tea. No, hot chocolate. You probably forgot to eat too."

Toby sniffed indignantly, something Chris had only ever seen Toby and Angelique's old cat do. He could only stare after Toby as he disappeared into the kitchen, muttering under his breath.

Shaking his head, Chris bent down and fumbled with the laces of his boots. It took a while to get them off, long enough that he could hear the ding of the microwave by the time he had both of them kicked under the coffee table.

Toby came back, two mugs in his hands which he set on the table, then disappeared again. Chris reached for one of the mugs, craving the warmth more than the hot chocolate, but his hands were shaking too badly.

"Idiot," Toby muttered, showing up again, this time with a heavier blanket. He dropped it onto the couch and without asking, peeled Chris out of his sweatshirt, balling it up once it was off and tossing it onto the chair. He left the t-shirt on.

Toby picked up the blanket, wrapped part of it around Chris, then sat down and wrapped the other half around himself. With a groan, Chris's body instinctively curled into Toby's warmth.

Breath hissing, Toby flinched from Chris's icy hands before steeling himself. All Chris could think about was getting as much of his cold body against Toby's warmth as possible.

"C'mon, drink some of this," Toby urged, pressing the rim of the mug against Chris's lips. It felt almost scalding to his mouth, but he knew that it wasn't. Toby held onto him with one arm while he coaxed Chris into drinking down the whole mug of hot chocolate. "Might as well drink mine too," he said, picking up the second mug.

He didn't want it, but he drank it all anyway. Warmth started to spread through him, but not enough to stop his teeth from chattering hard enough that he was sure Toby could hear it. Still shivering, Chris took the empty mug from Toby and set it on the table before wrapping himself around Toby like a boa constrictor.

"You're insane, you know that?" Toby murmured as he enfolded them in a cocoon of blankets.

Closing his eyes, Chris felt the press of Toby's lips against his temple. Worn out, Chris relaxed and let Toby take his weight.

---

During the night, Toby had burrowed in, as if he were settling down to hibernate in Chris's arms all winter. It was impossible for Chris to move, but it was so warm and comfortable, in spite of Toby pinning him down, that he really didn't want to.

Chris had fallen asleep with his hands under Toby's shirt. He spread his fingers, luxuriating in the illicit pleasure of Toby's bare skin. Gently rubbing his cheek against Toby's hair, he breathed deeply the tantalizing scent of comfort and sleep and Toby.

Remembering his fantasies from the other night, Chris didn't even try to will away the morning wood pressing up against Toby's belly. This was better than a fantasy. Careful not to wake Toby, Chris rocked his hips up, teasing himself through the two layers of clothing that separated his erection from smooth skin.

With a grin of satisfaction, Chris could feel the corresponding firmness of Toby's morning erection against his hip. He wanted nothing more than to hold onto Toby and rub off, slow and easy, make himself come, make Toby come. Twisting his hips just a little, he aligned his hard-on with Toby's, digging his hands into Toby's back.

"Bah bah."

Chris went still, then turned his head to look at the little person standing next to the couch clutching a plastic bottle in one hand and Snuffly in the other.

"Bah bah."

Chris sighed.

It wasn't until later, with Toby still sleep tousled and bleary eyed, drinking his coffee, that he realized that Dani had given him a lucky break. It was way too soon to make a move on Toby, no matter the temptation.

He was better off not making a move at all. Toby and his family were perfect marks. So far, the only thing he'd accomplished was free babysitting service.

As he drove to work, still in the clothes he'd worn the night before, any thoughts of running a scam on Toby were overwhelmed by memories of waking up to his warm body settled over his own.

---

It was surprising how fast Toby's days fell into a comfortable routine. In the morning, Chris would sit and drink coffee with him and share the newspaper until it was time for him to go. Occasionally, Chris would stop by a drive-through and bring breakfast with him. Once, he brought eggs and bacon to cook breakfast - until Toby started adding them to his grocery list. Then it became a part of their routine for Chris to cook before going to work.

When Toby's mother found out he was babysitting Dani, she insisted that he pick Harry up in the afternoons and spend the rest of the day at her house. While Dani napped, Toby got to spend some one-on-one time with Harry until Holly got home. He spent a half hour or so with Holly helping with her homework, though she didn't need it.

Because of Chris and Dani, Toby was spending more time with his own children. Before, he'd been the father who took them out to have fun, bought them toys, but was never really around. Now, they were getting to know him again.

There were a couple of bad days mixed in with the good, days when he knew he couldn't deal with the kids. On those days he dropped Dani off with his mother and found the closest Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. If he couldn't find one, he went to a church and sat there for a while letting the quiet sink into his bones.

His mother never questioned or nagged him on those days, another reason to be grateful for his family. No matter their differences, they loved him.

---

"I've been thinking."

Toby groaned out loud as his mother made herself comfortable on the couch next to him in the den. "What are you scheming at now, Mom?"

Affronted, she sniffed. "I'm not scheming, Toby, I've simply been considering the problem of a placement for Dani."

Dani, happily ensconced on the rug with toys scattered all around her, smiled at Mrs. Beecher when she heard her name. Toby realized he was in trouble when his mother went soft and dewy-eyed like someone looking at a box full of kittens and puppies.

"You found a good day care center for her?"

"She most certainly will not be going to a day care center," she said, "Look what's already happened to her." She made poor, pitiful baby faces at Dani who responded by pooching her lower lip out.

"That happened at a babysitters, Mom, not a certified day care center. There are some perfectly good, reputable places out there. Chris just didn't know where to look."

"I know exactly what we should do."

We? He couldn't wait to hear this.

"So, what's your idea."

"Dani will be two years old before next September. She'll be old enough to start at Amblin Academy."

Toby groaned again, this time he put his face in his hands. "Mom!"

"What's wrong with Amblin Academy?"

Toby and Angus had both gone to Amblin. Gary and Holly had gone to Amblin. Harry would be graduating out of Amblin next year.

"There's no way Chris can afford it, Mom. He's a mechanic."

"He won't have to pay a dime." If she radiated any more triumph, he'd grab Dani and make a run for it. "They have a scholarship fund."

"And you're going to make sure she gets in on the fund. Which means some other deserving child won't."

"Dani deserves to go to Amblin, and I'd say that even if I'd never met her. Anyway, your father has been supporting Amblin, and their scholarship fund, for close to forty years. I'm sure they will agree with me that Dani would be an asset for them."

"Mom... " Dani and his mother glowed at each other, as if together they had pulled off the coup of the century. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Wait, she won't be eligible until September. What am I supposed to do with her until then?"

Toby didn't like the gleam in his mother's eye. She patted his knee as she got up. "You will continue to bring her here, of course."

"Until September?"

"You don't have anything better to do," she said, tartly, leaving the room.

Great. One way or another, his parents found a way to arrange his life. He forced his jaws to unclench as Dani got up and came over, giving him one of her toys. Taking it, he put it aside so he could settle her next to him on the couch.

"Bossy old busy body," he whispered in Dani's ear. She tried to repeat the words but only came out with raspberry noises, making Toby smile.

Smoothing a hand over Dani's flyaway hair, Toby made a game of making up funny phrases to see how she would repeat them.

---

"You need to get a cell phone, Chris," Ronnie said, handing him a piece of scrap paper.

"I've got one," he replied, reaching for the paper. "What is it?"

"Another message from Vincenzo Nappa."

A quick scan around the garage showed that the other guys had gone on break, there was no one else around. Ronnie wasn't very bright, but he should have been smart enough to know that a name like that shouldn't be bandied about so casually.

Ronnie noticed. "Don't worry, I haven't said anything to anybody, but if my uncle finds out you got business with a Nappa, he's not gonna want you to work here any more," he said. "But listen, my uncle is getting ready to move across town. There's been people around asking questions. Think Nappa has something to do with it?"

"I doubt it. Nappa's has his sights set on something bigger than your uncle's operation. Is your uncle moving the whole thing? The garage?"

"Nah, just the night business. This place makes good money during the day. That's what a good reputation will do for you." Ronnie clapped Chris on the shoulder and walked away.

Steeling himself, Chris unfolded the paper and squinted at Ronnie's scrawl.

Fuck. Another meeting at Marty's. Tonight.

Balling up the paper, Chris shoved it into his pocket. Toby seemed to be okay with watching Dani all day, but Chris might be going too far asking Toby to babysit half the night as well. After that stunt Chris had pulled the first time Toby babysat, he was pushing his luck. Somehow, Chris had to persuade Toby to watch Dani that evening. He couldn't afford not to show.

He'd ask after dinner at that little Italian place that Holly liked when it was her night to pick where they would eat. It was a lot quieter than the places Harry picked, so Toby would be less stressed out, more amenable to watching Dani for a few more hours.

---

Chris hoped this was the right moment, walking to Toby's SUV. The food had been good; Toby had been in one of his playful moods, the kids on their best behavior. As Holly and Harry got in, Chris touched Toby's arm, pulled him off to the side.

"Look, Toby, I need a favor. I wouldn't ask, but there's no one else."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I need you to look after Dani tonight."

Toby's brows went up. "It's kind of late."

"I know, but it's important. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

Suddenly, Toby's expression softened, a gentle smile settling over his face. "Important like the night you came home nearly frozen?"

Chris was expecting anything but the warm understanding in Toby's eyes. With a twinge of guilt, Chris nodded. He wasn't above using Toby's misunderstanding to get what he wanted; it wasn't like he could tell him the truth, anyway.

Toby put his hand on Chris's shoulder, smiling. "Wear a sweater under that coat. And a scarf, you idiot. I don't want you turning into an ice cube."

"Sure," Chris said, ignoring his stomach knotting up.

---

While Chris got Dani's car seat, Toby got into his SUV. Turning to Holly, he said, "Looks like I'll be taking Dani home with me."

Holly frowned, hurt filling her eyes. There was already some tension with the kids because Dani got to spend all day with their father. They rarely spent more than an hour or so at Toby's place and had never been there at night.

"So I was thinking," Toby said. "Slumber party!"

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, a smile lit up Holly's face. "Really? We can spend the night?"

"Yep. We can rent a couple of movies, make some popcorn." Racking his brain for other kinds of entertainment, Toby threw out, "Brownies? We can pick up some mix when we get the popcorn."

---

When Chris opened the back door to fasten Dani's car seat in, Holly and Harry were talking so excitedly he could barely understand them. Toby was grinning from ear to ear.

He ignored the weird ache in his chest when Toby's eyes met his. "You can pick Dani up in the morning. Or you can hang out with us and watch cartoons."

Harry and Holly's enthusiastic reaction to that idea lightened his mood considerably. "I love cartoons," he said. "You know what else I love? Waffles!"

If the kids were anything to go by, that was possibly the best idea of his life.

---

If there had ever been a guy named Marty running the place, Chris had never met him. He wasn't entirely sure who owned the place. There seemed to be an ever changing cast of hard-faced bartenders who all blurred together so they might as well be the same person.

Vincenzo was at what was becoming his usual place, and that wasn't a good sign at all. Chris couldn't afford to be seen with this asshole. If the cops didn't already have him under surveillance, then there were always curious ears listening and eyes watching, hungry to take any tidbit back to interested parties willing to pay for it. Kitty sat next to him, one finger idly tracing the rim of her drink. It was a mildly seductive gesture meant to show off the elegance of her hands, but with grim satisfaction Chris recognized it as one of her few tells. Her bland expression gave nothing away, but that one small movement screamed nervous tension. It was one of the reasons she steadily lost at poker.

Vincenzo brought only one guy this time, and he sat at the other end of bar - far enough away that he couldn't overhear Vincenzo's business dealings, which was smart. Too smart to be Vincenzo's idea.

Vincenzo glared when Chris took a seat before he could be ordered to sit down.

"You can't keep leaving messages for me at work," Chris said, shooting the opening volley.

"And you must think you're hot shit telling me what I can and can not do."

"You know who runs the place. He's not the kind of guy you want to fuck with."

"I'm not fucking with anybody but you, Keller. Tell me another way to get in touch with you and you can keep your day job." Vincenzo bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile. "If you work for me, you won't need a day job. I promise you, the money's good."

The money had been good when he'd worked for Tony Martelli. Chris had paid off Kitty's debt in six months, but by then he had realized there was no getting out. It was only the impossible conjunction of blind luck and human nature that had freed him from a lifetime of being Martelli's hatchet man.

Three years working for Martelli, and no amount of money was enough to fix all the damage the job had inflicted on Chris.

"I don't need the money."

Vincenzo's impatience was starting to boil over. "Everybody needs the money. I don't know what kind of game you're playing. Maybe you think playing hard to get will give you a better bargaining position, but I'm tired of it."

Suddenly, Vincenzo flipped a manila envelope onto the table. Chris couldn't help hissing as he looked around. There wasn't a single person in the room who didn't have his back turned to their table. The bartender kept his head down so he couldn't even catch a glimpse of them in the mirror behind the bar.

Furious, Chris swept the envelope onto the seat next to him. "Are you out of your mind?"

The gold rings on Vincenzo's fingers flashed as his hands tightened into fists. "Watch your mouth, Keller. You need to learn a little respect."

It was on the tip of Chris's tongue to say that this godfather wannabe hadn't done a damn thing to earn his respect. Caution kept him quiet. He just had to get through this meeting, make it clear he wasn't interested in going back to being the man he was fifteen years ago. Chris only had to play this meeting out, then he was home free. Reaching down, he flipped open the manila envelope and spilled the contents on the seat.

Chris frowned at the picture of Ralph "Sunshine" Alday. He was small time, not even a minnow in the big pond. Sunshine was a dealer who should have OD'd on his own product years ago. He was a low rent scumbag who shouldn't have needed more than a good smack down for putting more candy up his nose than selling it.

Sunshine was so far down the food chain, Vincenzo shouldn't even have known his name. That Vincenzo was sitting there, in public no less, putting a hit out on the guy meant there was more going on than Chris knew. And what Chris didn't know could get him killed.

Chris stuffed the picture back into the envelope and looked back up at Vincenzo. Jesus, he never thought he'd miss the days of working for Tony Martelli. At least Tony'd had enough sense not to meet Chris in public, and he sure as hell wouldn't have brought fucking pictures to pass across the table to him.

Chris pushed the envelope back. "I'm retired."

Vincenzo smirked. "Nobody retires from your line of work, Keller."

"When Martelli went down, I got out. I don't do that kind of work any more. I've got a clean record, and I want to keep it that way."

"Your record won't stay clean if word gets out about where the bodies are buried."

"Who said they were buried?"

Vincenzo laughed, taking that as a joke. Chris gritted his teeth. Jesus wept, this guy was amateur hour on open mic night at a comedy club. One way or another, he was going to get Chris killed. If Chris didn't end up on Death Row because of Kitty working her mouth, he was going to end up getting offed by people bigger and badder than Vincenzo.

For the first time in his life, he kind of missed Martelli. He would have eaten a wannabe like Vincenzo for lunch - then swallowed down the rest of his crew just on principle.

Martelli had exactly one face to face meeting with Chris that had lasted about three hours. There had been no other witnesses to that meeting, except for Martelli's closest adviser who had died in the same shoot out as his boss. They were the only two people who had known everything Chris had done. Once they were gone, there was no one left to implicate Chris in any crimes.

Except for Kitty, who couldn't possibly know anything important. Only that she had been the bridge, the connection, between Chris and Martelli.

She might not know the facts, but she was sharp enough to put a few rumors and Chris's late night absences together and come up with answers close enough to the truth. Before the divorce, she knew all his comings and goings, when he was home and when he came dragging in at dawn.

A fine sweat broke over him as he thought of all the lines she could draw between him and the disappearances of a bunch of people that Martelli wanted gone.

As Vincenzo grabbed the manila envelope off the table, Chris realized he made another mistake. He shouldn't have opened it and looked inside. Now he knew a piece of business that was too dangerous for him to know. Fuck.

"We can negotiate the price when the job is done," Vincenzo said. "It needs to be done soon."

It was one thing to scam some rich guy, break into a house, steal a car. What Vincenzo wanted was in a different league. He pictured Dani and knew that he couldn't go home to that face with blood on his hands.

"No."

Even in the dim lighting, Chris could see the color drain from Kitty's face. Vincenzo's mouth formed and ugly line.

"What did you say? I don't think I heard you right."

"No." Chris stood up. "The answer is no. It will always be no. I'm not the man you want. Find someone else to do your dirty work."

As Chris walked away, Vincenzo called out, "It's not over, Keller. I always get what I want. You'll come around."

---

Toby was proud of himself. There had been a couple of rough patches, Holly and Harry fighting over which movie to watch first, Dani having a brief meltdown over Harry hogging the popcorn, but overall, the kids were having a blast. He was having a damn good time himself, getting nostalgic introducing the kids to some of his favorite movies from when he was a boy.

Holly and Harry were already up past their bedtime, and Harry was ecstatic that he didn't have to take a bath. Dani had fallen asleep on a pallet that they put together in the guest room. Harry looked close to nodding off. Sitting on the couch next to Holly, Toby could only congratulate himself on a successful slumber party.

"Dad, if you and Chris get married, can Dani be my real sister?"

"Wh-- what?" he asked, barely getting the word out.

"Chris said Dani can be my sister if I want her to be. But if you and Chris are married, then she'd be my real sister."

"Um-- Hey, let's get started on those brownies!"

---

The kids were still asleep when Chris arrived the next day. Toby was looking a bit haggard when he opened the door to let Chris in.

"I've got to get you a key," Toby grumbled as he hustled Chris into the kitchen. He went straight to the half-full coffee pot, leaving Chris to set the two grocery bags on the counter.

"You okay?" Chris had his own problems. All he really wanted to do was relax and not think for a while, but Toby looked dead on his feet; he had to say something.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Toby turned and leaned against the counter cradling a full mug of coffee like it was a lifeline. Things must have been pretty bad if Toby forgot his ingrained good manners and didn't offer Chris a cup.

Chris began to pull ingredients for waffles out of the bags, including a waffle iron. He knew Toby didn't have one.

"Kids kept you up all night?"

"No, not really. They were all in bed by nine thirty, Holly being the last one to drop off." Toby took a deep drink of coffee. "There's a reason my kids haven't spent the night here before."

Chris stowed a few items in the fridge, then nudged Toby aside and helped himself to the coffee. It was a mark of how comfortable Toby was with Chris that he gave Chris free rein over the place. Maybe he hadn't offered Chris coffee because he expected Chris to help himself, make himself at home.

It warmed him up inside after the bad night he'd had. Chris had spent the night tossing and turning, feeling as worn out as Toby looked.

The caffeine finally hit Toby as he put his empty mug down. He looked more alert, but only a good night's sleep would get rid of the circles under his eyes.

"I have these nightmares," he said. "Not every night, but fairly often. I don't want to scare the kids the way I wake up."

"You make a lot of noise?"

Toby grimaced. "Yeah. Screaming. A lot of screaming. So I stayed in my office all night, dozed a little, but didn't really sleep." Then he reached out, cupping Chris's cheek. "You must have stayed out late. Feel better now?"

The smile he gave Chris made him want to spill everything; that he hadn't gone for a ride on his bike to clear his head, but had gone to meet with a man who was too dangerous to know.

The words didn't come because Toby moved closer, into his space. His hand curved along Chris's jaw, drawing him in. Were they going to do this now? Finally? He could feel Toby's coffee-warm breath on his lips, they were so close.

"Dad?"

They both jumped back.

"Harry?" Toby's voice nearly squeaked. He cleared his throat. "Something the matter?"

"We having waffles?"

Chris forced a smile. "Yes, we are. Let me get everything set up."

It was gratifying to hear Toby mutter, "Damn it," as he poured both of them more coffee. At least he wasn't the only one frustrated.

---

Chris helped gather Dani's things, but Toby seemed distracted. He'd been like that since his mother called around lunch time. As he slung the diaper bag over his shoulder, he finally asked what was up.

"Sorry, have a lot on my mind." He focused enough to stuff Snuffly into the diaper bag, the strap tugging at Chris's shoulder.

"Is it about Dani?"

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong with Dani. Well, unless you consider that I still haven't found a decent day care center that can take her until September."

September? Why would Dani need a day care center only until September? Before he could ask Toby heaved a sigh. "It's about Gary. I mentioned him to you once or twice."

"He lives with his other grandparents. Manhattan, right?"

"Yeah. They don't want to make the drive out here for Thanksgiving." Toby avoided Chris's eyes. "And Gary doesn't want to come anyway."

"I'm sorry, Toby."

Toby looked miserable, his hands adjusting and readjusting the strap of the diaper bag on Chris's shoulder, then picking at a stray thread, until Chris let the bag drop to the floor so he could grip Toby's arms. "Hey," he said, giving Toby a little shake, "There's always Christmas. He's gotta come for that."

"Don't be too sure," Toby said, finally meeting Chris's eyes. "Gen's parents are perfectly happy keeping him away from me. If they could get away with it, they'd take Holly and Harry, too."

"That's not going to happen!" A fierce protectiveness rose up in Chris at the thought of Toby losing all three of his kids.

"No, it isn't," Toby said, some of the misery disappearing as he reassured Chris. "Both of them want to stay here, and the Cambreys really don't want to tangle with my father's law firm."

"Good," Chris said, relieved.

"Anyway," Toby said, forcing an air of enthusiasm. "I'd like to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner."

"Here?"

"No, my parent's house."

Chris started to shake his head, but Toby held up his hand and waved his words away. "I know the thought of spending an entire day with the Beecher clan isn't your idea of fun, it isn't mine either, but I'd really like you and Dani to be there. My mother really puts on a spread like you wouldn't believe. Not that she actually cooks any of it-- "

"Take a breath, Toby," Chris said, smiling. "And thanks, but-- "

Toby's face fell. "You know what? Never mind. You probably have plans already."

"I don't have plans, Toby. But Thanksgiving is a family holiday. I don't think I'd fit in."

"No, you won't fit in with my stuffy aunts and uncles or my spoiled cousins. But I want you there. You're my... " Toby groped for the right word, settled for, "friend. I want you and Dani to spend Thanksgiving with me and Holly and Harry. The rest of them don't matter."

"Are your parents okay with it?"

"I already told Mom I was inviting you. Please come."

Chris was losing his touch. He was the one who should have Toby wrapped around his little finger, but looking into hopeful blue eyes, Chris had only one answer.

"Okay."

---

Toby said he was ready for complicated, but Chris doubted that Toby would want the tangled mess from Chris's past coming back to haunt him. Vincenzo Nappa wasn't going to give up. He was a dangerous man, used to getting his own way.

Chris couldn't simply pack up and get out of town. Nappa didn't know a damn thing, yet it was still too much. All he had to do was spread a few rumors close enough to the truth and Chris would have the police breathing down his neck.

At the very least, he should give up Toby. Walk away.

Pacing around his living room, Chris realized that he couldn't do it. What he had with Toby was turning out to be a good thing and might become even better.

Chris had to stop, close his eyes and breathe for a minute as he thought of how far he might have to go to get Vincenzo Nappa out of his life. Fifteen years was a long time, but it wasn't like he could forget the things he'd done. He could do it again if he had to. God knows, he didn't want to.

Except for the tiny part of him that did.

Giving himself a shake, Chris went to Dani to get her ready for bed. The doorbell rang.

---

"You have a lot of nerve," Chris said, scowling at the woman on his doorstep.

"No guts, no glory, Christopher," Kitty said, as she insinuated herself into the house.

She was still beautiful, pushing forty but could easily pass for twenty-nine or younger. Tall and sleek, trim waist and firm breasts that Chris knew for a fact were natural. Her hair was bleached, but expensively done so that it looked as natural as a salon could manage.

Kitty knew how to keep herself up. She had to if she was going to trap the next guy who was going to pay for her addiction.

Chris let the door slam behind him as he followed her into the living room where she paused to stare with appalled fascination at Dani playing with her toys in front of the TV.

"I heard you had a kid, but I didn't believe it." Slanting him a look, her voice accusing, "You always said you didn't want children."

"Maybe I just needed to find the right woman."

Kitty made a show of looking around, "So where is this paragon who changed your mind about fatherhood?"

Chris folded his arms across his chest. "You're not here for a chat about what I've been doing since we divorced and it's none of your business anyway. What do you want besides trouble?"

As if invited, Kitty settled herself on the couch, her slim elegance making it look even shabbier by comparison. The whole place looked grubbier with her there. Chris never could figure out how she could make her surroundings look either classier or grimier, simply by the way she held herself.

Patting the place next to her on the couch, Kitty said, "Let me explain."

Snorting at her, Chris ignored her invitation and went to Dani instead. It was well past her bedtime, but she had picked up on Chris's turmoil and refused to sleep. This late, she was visibly drooping. As Chris picked her up, she yawned and sagged against his shoulder. Instead of taking Dani to her room, Chris sat down in a chair as far from Kitty as the room allowed. As Dani dozed off, Chris lightly stroked her back the way he had seen Toby do it.

Kitty didn't look in the least insulted by Chris's mild snub. But that was Kitty all over. The only thing that got her hot and panting was a pile of money on the table and a royal flush in her hand.

"Vincenzo isn't happy with you, Christopher."

"What's with this 'Christopher' bullshit?" Belatedly, he remembered that he wasn't supposed to use that kind of language around Dani, but she was already asleep against his shoulder, so it didn't matter.

"Chris," she said, her voice going low and throaty, her eyes warm. He couldn't tell what she did to make her body language more inviting, but suddenly she was no longer the icy starlet from a 50's film noir movie but the smart-mouthed broad that he'd been married to. The instant transformation, right in front of his eyes, made him want to shake her.

He flashed on a memory of Kitty in a red halter top, swigging a can of cold beer, yelling at the TV as she watched the Super Bowl with Chris and a couple of his buddies. For Chris, she'd been an earthy, good old girl, who would have gone to monster truck rallies and wrestling matches if Chris had been inclined to that sort of thing.

Getting up before he did something really stupid, Chris said, "I'm putting Dani to bed. You know where the door is - use it!"

Chris lingered in Dani's room as long as possible, but he didn't have the excuse of reading her a bed time story. He moved around, rearranging the clutter, gathering Dani's dirty clothes into a pile, putting toys away. He delayed for as long as possible, but since he didn't hear the front door close, he finally had to go back out and confront his ex-wife.

She was standing by Dani's toys, pushing them around with the toe of her shoe. Christ, she was wearing stocking with seams up the back, probably part of Vincenzo's fantasy of a classy dame. Kitty would have figured that out about him on day one. It wouldn't surprise Chris to find out that she had bought a pair the day after targeting him as her next meal ticket.

She had looked much the same back when Chris had first met her in Atlantic City, both of them working cons jobs. The attraction was instant and probably wouldn't have gone beyond a memorable weekend except Kitty had Chris all figured out long before he got to know the real Kitty.

Neither the classy dame nor the good ole girl was the real Kitty. They were masks to hide the hungry-eyed addict who would spend hours playing poker and would sooner piss herself than get up from the table. With Kitty, the cards, the horses, hell, even the fucking slot machines came first.

"Thought I told you to get out."

"You don't want me to leave, Chris."

She slinked toward him, a languid sway to her hips meant to mesmerize the eye. That flash of her stockings had been another move to lure him in. Impassively, Chris watched her approach, entirely unmoved by her charms. Any attraction he had ever felt for her was long gone.

He could easily hustle her out the door, but the smart thing to do would be to let her say her piece so he could get an idea of what she might be up to, other than the obvious. There was always a hidden motive behind the one she wanted her victims to see.

"So what do you think I want?" Chris asked.

Folding his arms across his chest, he formed a barrier, making it harder for her to cozy up to him. That didn't stop her. She put her hand on his forearm, turning pretty blue eyes up to meet his, mouth temptingly close. That sort of thing might have been enticing once upon a time, but now all he wanted to do was shake her hand off and tell her to get lost.

"I think you want to know what's going on with Vincenzo. The more information you have, the stronger your bargaining position. I can help you with that."

As if stung, Chris jerked back. "Are you kidding me? I already know more about his business than is healthy. I want out, not in. You understand that?"

"You have no idea what kind of opportunity this is. Vincenzo is moving up and he can take you with him." Her eyes seemed to get brighter. "There's a lot of money to be made, Chris."

All he could do was stare at her. "You don't get it. You honest to God don't get it. Do you have any idea what it cost me to work for Martelli? No matter how much money Vincenzo offers, it's not enough."

"Think, Chris. Think of all the things you can have. You can buy a nicer place in a better neighborhood. Think about your daughter. Babies need so many things. As she grows up, she'll need more. You'll want to send her to college."

"See, there's this thing. It's called a job. You go in every day, work for a while and at the end of the week you get something called a paycheck. You can do all kinds of things with a paycheck, but you wouldn't know anything about that. Any paycheck you could earn wouldn't be enough to pay your bookie."

Kitty turned and walked across the room. He must have made a direct hit because she kept her back to him.

"I have a degree in art history," she said, more to herself than to Chris.

"Yeah, and if Michelangelo was alive, he'd be banging down your door wanting to hire you."

Facing him she smiled, "You've changed, Chris." Another strategy. Did she ever run out of them? "You used to be up for anything. Remember stealing that Ferrari? Drove it all the way to Mexico."

Sighing, Chris realized that he wasn't going to get anything useful out of her. "I remember, but I'm not interested in talking about old times. They weren't all that good."

"Chris-- "

"Let's cut to the chase. You got into trouble again and there is no one else around to get you out. You figured that if you got me into your mess, I'd have no choice but to go along. I'm not playing your game this time, Kitty. I'm not going to let you fuck me over again."

Taking her by the elbow, Chris marched her toward the door. Before he could open it, Kitty wrenched her arm loose.

"Listen to me, Chris." Panic was starting to bleed through the masks, her facade beginning to crack. "Vincenzo isn't the kind of man who takes no for an answer. He's used to getting his own way and when he doesn't, he turns mean. One way or another, he'll get you. If not with money, then with something else."

"The only reason a guy like him knows about me is because of you. Why did you have to open your big, fat mouth? You should have known I wouldn't be an easy mark. Not like last time."

"I didn't have a choice," she admitted.

Chris held back his temper. "Listen to me," he said, getting in her face. "You don't know anything about what I did for Martelli. But I bet you suspect an awful lot." He let that sink in. "If you know what's good for you, you'll call Nappa off, tell him that I'm not worth the trouble."

He could see her throat work as she swallowed. "I can't do that," she said, her voice strained.

"Then you better think up another plan and leave me out of it." Opening the door, he all but shoved her out. "Don't ever come to my house again."

He locked the door as if that would do any good. Chris wasn't going to feel safe until Vincenzo Nappa got the message and stopped pursuing him.

He had the feeling that he might be waiting for a cold day in hell.

---

Toby sighed as he looked around the showroom. It was quiet, not very busy at that time of day. There were a few couples, men attentively hovering over their pregnant wives, women glowing with happiness. Toby had been one of those men, once, following at Gen's heels as she picked out furniture for Gary. He could barely remember what it felt like to be that happy.

"What do you think of this one, Toby?"

"Mom," Toby said, trying one more time to get her to see reason. "Dani doesn't need baby furniture. She has a crib at home."

"Yes, but she doesn't have anywhere to sleep when she's at our home. You have to admit, she is spending a great deal of time with us." She smiled fondly at Dani who was sitting in a cherry wood crib. "Aren't you, sweetheart."

"She'll just outgrow it in a few months."

"And when she does, we'll get her a big girl bed." She smooth Dani's wayward hair. "Won't we, angel."

Rubbing at his forehead, Toby sighed.

After Chris had dropped Dani off that morning, Toby had gone over to his mother's house to discover that she had cleared out one of the guest bedrooms and even now painters were painting the walls a soft pink. An artist was coming over tomorrow to hand paint some kind of design on the walls that Toby didn't even want to know about.

His mother had insisted that Toby come with her to help pick out Dani's new baby furniture. At least they weren't binge shopping for clothes again. Harry only went to pre-school for half the day, so they had picked him up on the way to the showroom displaying the latest in toddler chic.

Harry would have been going wild in a toy store. There were plenty of toys scattered around, but nothing meant for a boy his age. Harry found ways to entertain himself anyway - he kept finding age inappropriate ways of playing with the age inappropriate toys. Only a minute ago he had run up to Toby, an over-sized cloth jingle ball stuffed under his shirt. "Look, Daddy, I have a baby in my tummy!"

Actually, that had been a highlight of the afternoon.

Harry was now having a blast playing a game he'd invented. He'd pulled some boxes from the shelves, stacked them up and topped the fort with a stuffed clown doll. He was now throwing the cloth jingle ball at the clown, knocking it off the fort, chortling merrily every time the clown hit the floor. He wasn't hurting anything and the store assistants were well aware that his grandmother was about to lay a cool fortune on them. Somebody around there was going to go home with a nice fat commission.

"Which do you like better, the cherry wood or the walnut?"

Toby sighed again. He let his mother make whatever decisions she wanted while he looked for some place to sit down. Gazing longingly at a cluster of nursing rockers on the other side of the room, Toby didn't have the heart to tell his mom that standing around too long made the pain in his legs flare up.

He checked on Harry and froze when he saw that a man was crouched down next to him. It wasn't weird or suspicious, it was all right there in the open, but alarm shivered down his spine. The man didn't seem to fit in, somehow. Maybe it was the style of his suit, or the gold rings. Toby couldn't pinpoint what was making his hackles rise. Just then, the man looked right at Toby, a slow smirk stretching his lips in an expression that was anything but friendly.

Toby headed toward them, but the man stood up, let his hand linger for a moment on Harry's head, the whole time staring at Toby, then turned and walked off. By the time he got to Harry, the man was nowhere in sight.

"Harry, who was that? What did he want?" The words came out harsher than he meant.

"It's okay, Dad. He's a friend. Look what he gave me!"

It was a piece of candy, the kind they used to call penny candy when Toby was a kid. "Harry, you know better than to take candy from strangers!"

"He wasn't a stranger, he was nice."

Alarms were all but screaming in his head. What idiot gave candy to a child they didn't know? Unless they were sending a message. But what the hell was the message? What was the point? The man had approached Harry so easily, what if he tried something again?

Toby had no idea what the hell had just happened, but it scared him.

"C'mon, Harry. Let's pick up these boxes and get out of here. When we get home, we're going to have a little talk."

---

It was, bar none, the best Thanksgiving dinner Chris had ever eaten in his life. The turkey was moist, the skin crisp; mashed potatoes creamy and covered in thick gravy. Chris had never liked green beans, but the ones Mrs. Beecher served were good enough to make him change his opinion. Chris had almost missed out, but at the last minute he left a dinner roll on his plate to make room for the pumpkin pie.

The food might have been out of this world, but the company left a lot to be desired. Good thing he got to eat at the kiddie table with Toby and all the children. The stuffed shirts and their snooty wives were welcome to stay at the big table in the dining room.

So what if it was undignified to be relegated to eating in the kitchen with a bunch of rambunctious kids and sulky teenagers? It meant that he was closer to the pumpkin pie. There was still a whole one left and Chris was angling to take it home with him. Maybe there was a way to hide it in the mudroom off the kitchen until it was time to go home.

Chris ate the last bite of pumpkin pie on his plate and stared longingly at the uncut pie on the kitchen counter.

"You want another piece?" Toby asked.

Chris sat back in his chair and groaned. "If I eat another piece, it'll kill me."

Just then the three teenagers got up from the table, one of them mumbling something about the Playstation, and slunk out of the room.

Toby frowned. "Were we that bad when we were that age?"

"Worse. I was headed toward Lardner when I was that age."

The little kids had been easy to deal with, even the hyperactive little boy who'd spent the entire meal squirming around and playing with his food. Toby handled all of it with a patience and grace that Chris couldn't help but admire. He didn't try to make any of them eat anything they didn't want. One kid refused to eat anything but apple pie with ice cream. Toby had shrugged and served up whatever they wanted, saying he wasn't their mothers and it wasn't his job to make their Thanksgiving miserable.

Toby hated crowds but he was doing okay with just the kids. Until one of the teenagers, the one with black nail polish and purple streaks in his hair got up the nerve to ask Toby about prison, smirking all the while.

Toby had simply shrugged, "Yes, I was in prison, but this isn't the time or the place to discuss it." Then his face went cold and hard, his square teeth gleaming in a smile mean enough to bite the smirk right off the kid's face. "Catch me later if you want to hear all the details."

Yeah, that shut them up. They'd spent the whole meal at their end of the table, heads together, muttering at each other and casting speculative looks at Toby and Chris, but mostly Toby.

Toby had done a lot better with the little ones, and they seemed to like him too. They were constantly getting out of their chairs so they could whisper secrets in his ear, or sit in his lap, or help him bring more food to the table, or clear away plates.

It gave Chris a chance to study Toby, the way he moved, the sound of his voice, the way he seemed to be in his element, comfortable.

Soon after the teenagers left, Toby gathered the kids together and started herding them upstairs.

"The grown-ups are watching football in the last room on the left at the end of the hall," Toby said, waving him away.

"Why don't you come with me?"

"I got out of the habit of watching TV. And I was never a big sports fan, anyway. But you go ahead, me and the kids will be fine."

Chris stood indecisively, watching Toby's back, Dani's face peeking over his shoulder, as he headed upstairs with most of the kids thundering ahead of him, a few stragglers bringing up the rear.

Sitting and watching a game was a tempting idea, especially with a full stomach. As he wandered down the hall, he could hear the TV through the open doorway. Peeking in, he assessed the enemy.

It was mostly men, their suit jackets off, their ties pulled loose. Susan and Angus were sitting on a love seat, both avidly watching the game. A couple of others seemed to be interested, too, but most of the guests were sunk in their seats already napping or fighting it.

Without exception, they all had a drink, either in their hand or nearby. Beer, wine, a cocktail. Chris wouldn't have minded a beer himself, but he had stopped drinking when he knew he'd be around Toby. He didn't expect everyone to stop drinking in deference to Toby's alcoholism, but it did seem weird that there were empty beer bottles and wine glasses scattered everywhere.

During a commercial break, Angus got up, then smiled when he noticed Chris. "I'm getting a beer. You want one?"

"No, thanks. If I put anything else in my stomach, I'm gonna be sick."

Chris watched curiously as Angus walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room instead of going to the kitchen. Turned out to be a mini-fridge covered in paneling so it was hidden in the bookcase. He wondered how much alcohol was hidden in the house somewhere. Then he wondered how many Beecher's were alcoholics. He noticed that when Angus returned to his seat, he handed Susan a can of soda.

Chris watched the game for a short while, but it couldn't hold his attention when he realized that he really wanted to be upstairs with Toby and the kids. Nobody noticed when he slipped out of the room.

Upstairs, it sounded like there was quite a ruckus going on. There were thumps and yells coming from behind one of the doors. He couldn't resist poking his head in to see what all the noise was about. Just as quickly as he peeked in, he backed away, closing the door firmly, hoping that none of the boys had seen him. A loud crash followed by boyish shrieks almost made Chris feel sorry for whoever would have to clean up the mess in there later.

There were voices behind the next door, but they were quiet enough that he couldn't tell what was being said. He didn't knock, he didn't want to alert whoever was in there in case he wanted to make a quick getaway. He just hoped he didn't interrupt anyone who had decided to "nap" upstairs after dinner.

One look inside and Chris had to just stand there and stare, even though it kind of hurt his eyes and made him blink to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing.

It looked like Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella, had all exploded in there. The furniture was a crisp white, including the canopy bed, but everything else was pink. If it wasn't pink, it was purple. What didn't sparkle, glowed. If it didn't glow, it twinkled.

There were so many dolls stuffed into glass-fronted cabinets and displayed on the bookshelves that Chris felt like he was being watched by hundreds of blinky, little eyes.

It was Hell's waiting room, and Dani, Holly and Toby all looked at home there, gathered around a small, white table, drinking tea out of tiny, pink tea cups. Toby had a purple feather boa around his neck and something that might have been a hat perched on his head, but Chris couldn't be sure. There were enough feathers on it that it could have been a purple chicken.

Holly and Dani were tricked out too, worse than Toby. Hats, gloves, glittery jewelry. A couple of older girls sat on the bed playing a board game, probably thinking they were too old to play dress-up or tea party. Toby didn't seem to have a problem with it. His eyes twinkled over the rim of his tea cup, his pinky finger sticking way out.

Putting the tea cup down in its saucer, Toby batted his eyelashes at Chris. "Why Mr. Keller. Would you like to join us for some tea?"

"I'd love to Mr. Beecher."

Before he could sit down next to Toby, Holly held up an imperious hand. "You can't have tea without a hat!" She pointed at a toy box overflowing with glittery fabrics, costume jewelry and feathery things.

Toby had the most wicked smile peeking out from under the purple chicken thing perched on his head. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather be watching football?"

Well, if that wasn't a challenge, then he'd never heard one. Sauntering over to the toy box, he picked up a bright pink thing and plunked it onto his head. A burst of giggles filled the room. Chris sketched a bow and nearly lost the hat. Moving very carefully, he sat down next to Toby.

"Anyone ever tell you that pink is your color?" Toby asked.

"Nobody in a purple hat."

---

Toby couldn't help the goofy grin on his face. Chris looked ridiculous, but was handling playing dress-up with his usual humor. Toby reached up to tilt Chris's hat at a more rakish angle causing another burst of giggles from the little girls.

Chris took it all in stride, accepting the cup and saucer from Holly and pretending to sip tea. He held his pinky out and waggled it at Toby.

Toby was reluctant to identify the warm feeling in his chest, but it was good. He'd been feeling it a lot since meeting Chris.

Giving Chris a light shoulder bump, Toby focused on the next round of Holly pouring tea.

---

While Holly was occupied, Chris leaned over to whisper to Toby, "The eyes! It feels like they're staring at us. Doesn't it get to you?"

Toby's smile went stiff. "I got used to it," was his cryptic reply.

Chris spent the next few hours teasing Toby and tossing jokes back and forth with him. After the tea party, Chris was finally able to lose the hat. Toby gathered all the kids together and took them out to the back yard to run off some of their energy.

Toby and Chris divided the kids into teams, but nobody kept track of the scores. It was more about running around, getting dirty and sweaty than anything. Both men made sure that even the littlest kid got a chance to make a few points.

Parents started coming out to get their kids to go home. The last few stragglers ended up back in Holly's room where Toby organized them around a couple of board games. As Holly was rummaging through one of the cabinets, she absentmindedly handed a doll off to Dani who clutched it tightly like it was her new best friend.

Getting distracted by a game with a couple of the boys, he barely noticed that Dani held onto the doll, refusing to put it down.

More parents showed up to take their kids home until only Holly, Harry and Dani were left. Toby had disappeared with the last couple of kids, but he showed up again, skin flushed pink and smelling of the outdoors. Chris wondered about that for a minute, but was busy with Dani, Holly trying to be helpful but being more of an obstacle.

Dani was still clutching the doll when Chris brought her downstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Beecher were already there sending the last few stragglers out the door, calling good-bye after them.

Looked like Chris and Dani were the last to leave.

Leaning down toward Holly, Chris said, "Get your doll, Holly, it's time for us to go."

"Dani can keep her. She can keep the doll, can't she Daddy?" Holly said, not seeing the disapproval on her grandmother's face.

Before Toby could answer, Mrs. Beecher said, "Holly, dear, you can't just give your dolls away."

"Why not?"

"Because it just isn't done, sweetheart."

While the argument continued, Chris tried to pry the doll from Dani, but she was having none of it. It had been a long, tiring day for the toddler, and she had missed her nap. It shouldn't have been surprising when fat tears began to roll down her face.

"C'mon, now, Dani," Chris murmured, "Let me have the doll so we can get our coats on."

"But Holly, I gave her to you for Christmas! And it's part of your collection."

"You always give me dolls for Christmas. And my birthday. I have tons of dolls, and Dani likes this one."

"Holly-- "

"Graaaaam!" Holly whined, a sound guaranteed to get results. Few parents were immune to it, and apparently, it was just as effective against grandparents.

With Dani on his hip and the diaper bag over his other shoulder, Chris was having a hard time getting the doll away from Dani. The pitiful sounds Dani was making as she clutched tighter to the doll didn't help matters. Chris didn't realize that the room had gone silent until he felt a touch on his arm.

"Mr. Keller?" Chris looked up into Mrs. Beecher's eyes, warm for the first time since he met her, "I apologize, Mr. Keller. I'm ashamed that I made such fuss over such a little thing. She may keep the doll."

"Just give me a minute and-- "

"Please, let her have it. It's obvious that she loves the doll more than Holly does." Mrs. Beecher smoothed a hand over Dani's head, then gently wiped a few tears away. "What a precious baby, Mr. Keller. You are a lucky man."

Mrs. Beecher stepped back, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "Let me get a blanket for the baby, you're not going to be able to get that doll away from her long enough to get her coat on."

As she disappeared down the corridor, Chris glanced around. Harrison Beecher stood with Harry on his hip, the boy slumped in his arms, barely keeping his eyes open.

It was Toby, Holly cuddled against him, who seemed to reach out to Chris without even lifting a hand. The moment seemed to stretch forever as he felt himself relax, lean into Toby even though they weren't in any way close enough to touch.

The connection was broken when a blanket was draped around him and Dani. He heard Toby say, "I'll carry their coats out to the car, Mom."

He called his thanks as he was hustled out the door by Toby. Chris buckled Dani into her car seat, somehow maneuvering around the doll. He still couldn't get her coat on, so he tucked the blanket around her. When he was done, Toby helped Chris into his coat, smoothing the collar down after zipping it up.

"Drive carefully," Toby said, squeezing Chris's shoulder before walking away.

Chris got into the car and had the keys in the ignition when he noticed something on the passenger seat. Grinning, Chris peeked under the edge of tin foil to see the pumpkin pie underneath. So that's what Toby had been up to when he had come back to Holly's room all flushed from the cold.

He looked around for Toby, but he was already in the house. Later, he'd have to call Toby and thank him. For now, he wanted to get home, get himself a beer and a big slice of pie.

---

Dani had fallen asleep in her car seat, so it was a hassle getting her out of the car and into her crib. Tucking her in with Snuffly, Chris finally got a good look at the doll.

The head, hands and feet all looked like they were porcelain, but the body under the dress felt soft. The hair looked real instead of synthetic. He found a symbol on the back of the doll's neck, under her hair. That meant it was probably worth something.

Mrs. Beecher had said something about a collection, so the doll might be a collectible item, which raised its value even more. But only if it was in perfect condition. Collectors were weird that way. Dani hadn't damaged her, except for crushing some of her ruffles. Chris fluffed the dress up a bit, and she looked as good as new.

It wasn't an antique, but that didn't mean anything. He'd ask around. Someone would know how much it was worth.

Chris went to the closet, shoved some boxes and stuffed toys out of the way and set the doll on the top shelf. He had steady money coming in from the shop, and if he scammed the Beechers, he'd have himself a damn good set up. But the doll would be a little ace in the hole. If things turned bad, he could use it to get some cash in pocket.

He had the door to the closet halfway shut when he stopped to lean his forehead against the cool wood surface. Jesus Christ, who the hell was he kidding? Flinging the door open, he grabbed the doll and shook it a little. He wasn't going to do anything to it except let Dani play with it, fuck how valuable it was. Chris sat down in the rocking chair next to the crib as he finally faced a few truths about himself.

There was never any real intention to con Toby or scam the Beechers. His heart was never in it. When he'd picked Toby out at the park, it was because of that smile, the way it had turned a beige and boring guy into someone far more interesting.

Chris had been lying to himself all this time. Hell, he hadn't so much as kited a check in over three years. He had a legitimate 9 to 5 job, made a decent living. So what if the garage was a chopshop at night? Chris wasn't involved in that end of the business.

Before Toby, Chris had been floundering for months trying to figure out what to do with his life. It was easy to fall into old habit, old ways of thinking. Instead of moving forward, he tried to wear a life that didn't fit him any more.

He wasn't the man Martelli had trained or Kitty had used. He wasn't the man that had hurt and disappointed Bonnie so many times. The changes started a long time before Bonnie got sick. He'd gotten so tired of using other people, hanging out with creeps and lowlifes, knowing he was just as much a lowlife as they were. Chris drifted, no one to answer to, no responsibility to anyone but himself.

Suddenly, he realized the reason he married Bonnie the second time was an attempt to find a connection, an anchor. Of course, it had been a disaster. All the old problems and behaviors from their first go 'round were still there.

Bonnie's sickness forced Chris to make the first definite change within himself and not simply brood over a general sense of dissatisfaction. She needed him, and not just the whiny you-don't-spend-enough-time-with-me neediness that always made him grind his teeth.

Bonnie never asked for his help when she found out she was pregnant, didn't try and use that as a way to trap Chris. Quite the opposite. She was all prepared to raise Dani on her own. When she was diagnosed with cancer, she hadn't asked for Chris's help then, either. Taking care of her, driving her to her appointments, making sure she ate and took her medications-- that was all Chris. Only at the end did she ask Chris to do right by Dani. Raise her himself. Maybe Bonnie knew what Chris needed was a push in the right direction.

Sitting in the rocking chair next to the bed, Chris looked the doll over, noticing that it had an uncanny resemblance to Holly. No wonder Dani had refused to give it up.

Feeling drained, Chris went over to the crib and put the doll in the corner near Dani's feet. She'd find it in the morning. He decided to skip the beer he'd been promising himself all day, and the pie. He'd bring a couple of slices over to Toby's in the morning and they could have it for breakfast.

---

The Monday after Thanksgiving, Toby's father came home early from work and told the housekeeper he wanted to see Toby. He hated being summoned to his father's office like a wayward schoolboy.

Sitting down, Toby wondered what part of his life his father was going to pick apart this time. He was really starting to hate these little talks with his father.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, son. I had Chris Keller investigated."

"What?!"

"I wanted to know what kind of man you were bringing into my grandchildren's lives, Tobias. And I was right to be worried. Did you know that he spent time in Lardner?"

Toby held onto his temper and answered as calmly as he could. "Yes, Dad, he told me. He spent eighteen months in prison when he was a teenager."

Harrison Beecher was too good a lawyer to show his surprise. "And I suppose he told you that the so called garage where he works is actually a cover for an auto theft ring? It's a chopshop."

That gave Toby pause. "A chopshop?"

"Apparently, Keller is partners with a man named Ronald Barlog, who has a rap sheet as long as my arm. He also spent time in Lardner. I wouldn't be surprised if that was where the two of them met."

Toby wearily scrubbed his hands over his face. "Dad, this is a serious violation of privacy. You had no right investigating Chris." Toby decided to avoid the accusation that the garage was a chopshop. He'd talk to Chris about that later.

"I have every right! I have the right to know the kind of person my son chooses to spend his time with. You've ignored all your old friends, you've refused every invitation-- "

"Dad, stop."

Standing up, his father moved around his desk to stand over Toby. "I want to know why, son. I want to know why you can't at least try a little harder to be a part of this family again. Why can't you put prison behind you and move on?"

Toby rested his head in his hands for several long moments wondering how he was supposed to explain himself yet again to a man who just didn't seem to hear him. No, his father heard him all right; he just didn't like the answers.

Looking up, Toby said, "You have no idea how hard I'm trying. You have no idea how much I want to be normal again, how much I would love to sleep one night without waking in a cold sweat. I'm not the man I used to be, Dad, and I need time to figure out who I am now."

As usual, Harrison Beecher wasn't at all satisfied with Toby's answers.

"Dad," Toby spreading his hands as if that would help him grasp the right words. "My old friends are only willing to acknowledge me because of you. You're a man of power and influence - enough that you managed to get me out of prison on a reduced sentence. They respect you. Some of them would sell their souls to work in your firm."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"I'm not you! These people don't want to be seen with me! They tolerate me because of you. Do you want to know the truth? I don't want to know them either. They're shallow and fake. Smug. Thinking nothing bad could ever happen to them. Chris is more real than any of them. And he likes me, Dad. Not Harrison Beecher's son."

By the thoughtful frown on his father's face, Toby hoped that he was starting to get through to him. His father stood by his desk, fiddling with the items on it, examining them like he'd never seen them before, then putting them down.

"Is that what we gave you, son?" he asked, tentatively. "A fake life?"

"No! God, no, Dad!" Toby walked over and put his hand on his father's shoulder. "I appreciate everything you've done for me. I'm not ungrateful. I made some bad choices and got myself into trouble, I take full responsibility for that. I don't deserve all the chances you've given me."

Toby found himself swept into a warm hug. He held on tight; nothing in the world felt as good as a hug from his dad. When it was over, his father cleared his throat, clearly struggling to get his game face back on.

"Well, I'll leave you to read the report," he said, gesturing at the file on his desk, before leaving the office.

It didn't look like much, but Toby had the feeling the contents of that folder were going to change his life. Is that what he wanted?

Sitting down at his father's desk, Toby opened the folder.

---

Chris was bent under the hood of a Honda Civic when Ronnie came up.

"You're not supposed to be getting mail here, Chris."

"I don't," Chris said, standing up, only to have Ronnie smack him in the chest with a manila envelope.

"So what do you call this?" he said, walking away.

Chris turned it over in his hands. The postmark was local, but no return address. Chris pushed down the faint tickle of unease as he went to the break room. Before sitting at the table, he fixed himself a cup of coffee, delaying.

He looked it over again, the unease rise up stronger than before. It was exactly like the envelopes Martelli had sent him with his orders, and like the one Vincenzo had tried to force on him the other night.

Picking it up, he tore the envelope open, and felt his insides turn to ice as five photographs fell onto the table. The first was of Toby with Dani on his hip as he carried her out to his SUV. The next was of Toby buckling her into her car seat. One showed Toby loading all three children into the SUV, parked inside a parking garage. The pictures must have been taken the day Toby took the kids to the toy store. That was confirmed with the next photo taken in front of Toby's townhouse, Chris getting out of his car and the kids swarming out of the SUV wanting to show off their toys.

It was the last picture that made his heart freeze in his chest. Toby was crouching to put Dani down on the ground, Holly reaching for Dani's hand. Harry was looking up at Chris, showing off the toy Toby had bought him. It was a perfectly ordinary moment captured on film. The only thing that didn't belong were the red circles surrounding each child's head.

---

Toby felt like shit for reading though the investigation report on Chris. It was one of his many character flaws that he wasn't the kind of man who could keep his nose out of other people's business. Prison might have broken him in other ways, but not in this one. He was still too curious for his own good.

Closing the folder, Toby sat back and let himself think about the contents, feeling a little hurt and a lot angry. A chopshop. There was a remote possibility that Chris didn't know about what went on at the garage at night, but Toby suspected that he damn well knew all about it.

According to the report, the police hadn't caught on yet, but it was only a matter of time. Directly involved or not, Chris could go to prison if the place was raided. What the hell was he thinking with Dani to take care of?

There were a few other notes that gave Toby an uneasy feeling. Chris hadn't been arrested since his stint in Lardner when he was a kid, but he was a suspect in a number of crimes. The one that concerned Toby the most was a ponzi scheme that Chris allegedly master minded in Las Vegas. Before authorities could gather enough evidence and make arrests, Chris left town, bankrupt investors and furious detectives in his wake.

So. Chris was no angel. Neither was Toby. But Toby was trying his damndest to turn his life around. Shouldn't he give Chris the chance to do the same?

---

The nervous flutter in Toby's belly turned into to a knot when he saw Chris's grim expression as he walked in through the door after work. Toby knew that he would have to talk to Chris about the investigation, but it looked like Chris had something to say too.

"Where's Dani?" Chris asked.

"I left her with my mom. We have to talk."

Toby lead Chris into his office, a tense silence between them. Chris took the sofa and Toby took his favorite seat, letting his hand come to rest on the books stacked on the table next to it. There was something reassuring about being surrounded by the things that he loved. Then he realized that this was the first time he had invited Chris into his office.

"Where do you want to start?"

Chris took a deep breath and let it out in a long whoosh. "I guess I should start by telling you that I've been married four times."

"Four times?" Okay, that was a surprise.

Chris slanted him a look. "I married Bonnie twice."

"Oh, well, that's not quite as bad as having four different wives," Toby replied, rolling his eyes.

Chris doggedly moved on. He seemed determined to get everything out which was somehow reassuring to Toby. "Kitty was my first wife. I met her when I was twenty-one and married her three months later. I thought she was everything I could want in a wife, until I figured out how badly she'd played me."

"What do you mean?"

"She knew I was in love with her, that I'd do anything for her. It was just a matter of time before she used that to her advantage. See, she had this gambling habit. I knew she made bets, but I didn't realize how bad it was until Tony Martelli came knocking at my door."

Martelli. The name rang a bell, but Toby couldn't quite put his finger on where he had heard it. His mouth went dry when he realized that he'd probably heard it bandied about in prison.

"Who is Martelli?"

"Was. He's dead now." Chris shrugged. So far, he'd kept his eyes down, not meeting Toby's gaze. "He had this younger brother that wanted what Tony had. Thought he could get it by making a deal with the Irish. The whole family and most of their crew ended up dead."

"What does all this have to do with your ex-wife?"

"Gambling."

Toby could see the picture taking shape, and it wasn't pretty. "She got in over her head, didn't she," Toby said, more a statement than a question.

"Close to a quarter of a million."

Toby winced. That wasn't chump change even measured against the wealth he'd grown up with. But for a young man, no matter that he was a streetwise punk who'd already spent time in prison, it must have seemed impossible.

"And that's how Martelli got his hooks in you."

Toby knew all about making a Devil's Bargain. The one Toby made lead to pain, degradation, and misery for himself, and death for a lot of other people. He walked right into Schillinger's trap, but it was his own rage, combined with Ryan O'Reily's vendetta, that had caused the most devastation. After Andy's death, he had let Ryan talk him out of finding Hank Schillinger to form some kind of reconciliation with Vern. Instead, Ryan used the information his father had dug up to have Hank killed.

Toby might not have had a direct hand in Andy or Hank's deaths, but he still took partial responsibility. And he sure as hell was guilty of Metzger and Kathy Rockwell's deaths. He had no room to judge Chris, and he wasn't about to.

Chris kept his head down, focused intently on the floor. "I... I did some terrible things, Toby."

"Don't. You don't have to say anything else."

Toby didn't know what Chris had done 15 years ago, and he didn't want to know. No more than he wanted Chris to know the terrible things he had done in Oz. He wouldn't be confessing to the deaths of Metzger or Hank and Andrew Schillinger any time soon.

He didn't need know Chris's secrets from the past. The information from the file his father had given him was all suspicion and speculation. Except for Lardner and Chris's current connection to a chopshop, there was nothing concrete to hang on Chris. There wasn't a hint about Chris's dealings with Martelli.

Chris lifted his head and met Toby's gaze. "Toby-- "

"Don't, Chris. I have secrets, too. Whatever you did back then, it was for love. What I did was for revenge." Impulsively, he leaned toward Chris and took his hands. They felt so warm and strong in his, like they belonged there. "It's all in the past. We need to talk about the future."

"You might not feel that way once you see this."

Chris loosened one hand from Toby's, shifted around so he could pull something from the back pocket of his jeans. It was a bunch of photographs. Toby leafed through them and his mouth went dry when he recognized himself and the kids. When he got to the last one, seeing the children with circles around their heads, a knot of fear tightened inside his chest.

"God. The kids," he choked out. "Who did this? I thought you said Martelli was dead?"

Toby got up to pace the room, pausing only to shuffle through the photos again and again.

"The past doesn't always stay in the past, Toby. Kitty... "

When Chris paused, Toby spun on him. "What does your ex-wife have to do with this? Did she make this threat?"

"No. Not directly. But she's involved." Chris hesitated again.

Toby forced himself to sit down, take a deep breath, think instead of react.

"My father had you investigated." Chris's head came up. It was about time he looked at Toby directly. "I didn't know about it until today. I was going to ask you about the stupid chopshop, but it seems you're in deeper trouble than that."

---

So Toby knew about the night business at the garage. And he probably knew about some of the schemes Chris had pulled over the years. If Chris had still been determined to con Toby, that idea was now blown to hell. In spite of everything, Chris felt relieved.

"I need to know what's going on, Chris."

Okay, not that relieved. "Kitty's in trouble again and she thought she could get out of it by throwing me under the bus. She knew I wouldn't help her out of the goodness of my heart, so she convinced Vincenzo Nappa that she knows more than she does."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Did you say Vincenzo Nappa?" Toby's eyes had gone wide.

"Yeah, why?"

"Jesus." Toby close his eyes and breathed for a moment. He seemed to be doing a lot of deep breathing. "Please don't make tell me he's related to Antonio Nappa."

"I don't know. Probably." Chris shrugged.

Toby nodded, but he kept his eyes on the photos in his hands. "Okay. That must be how I heard the name Martelli. The Martellis and the Nappas used to be close?"

"Yeah. They were tight back in the day. The Martelli's aren't around any more, but the Nappa family still have some juice."

"They sure do. Antonio Nappa is leader of the Italians in Oz right now." Toby frowned. "But he's pretty old school. He'd never be involved in something like this." Toby waved the photos.

Chris reached for the photographs and after a brief tussle, Toby let them go. He shoved them back into his pocket and took Toby's hands. Toby gripped Chris's hands almost painfully hard.

"Toby, listen," Chris said, "I want you to take the kids somewhere. It doesn't matter where, just get them out of the city."

Toby's grip was like steel wrapped around his hands, but somehow they tightened even more. "No."

"Toby-- "

"No, Chris. If we have to, we'll send Dani to stay with my parents until we fix this, but I'm not leaving you to deal with this on your own."

He couldn't help it. Chris pressed his forehead against Toby's, wanting to kiss him so badly, his mouth ached. No one had ever stood by him, not his ex-wives, old lovers, friends or family. He'd met Toby only a short time ago, and yet in spite of the danger to his own children, he was willing to stand by Chris.

"Damn," Toby said, drawing back. "I bet that was Vincenzo Nappa at the store the other day."

"What are you talking about?"

Toby told Chris about going to the baby store with his mother and how a strange man had approached Harry. The fear that had dogged him since he got the envelope full of photos turned into cold rage.

"He actually touched Harry?"

"Yes, like he had the right," Toby said, mouth tense with anger.

"Toby, you need to take the kids away from here."

"I can't, Chris. Holly doesn't have to go back to school until Wednesday and I promised I'd take her to the park tomorrow. Harry and Dani too."

"Don't be stupid, Toby!" Chris said, pulling his hands from Toby's. "Two threats against the kids already. We don't know what he's going to do next."

"I'm not going back on my promise," Toby snapped. "And I'm not the one being stupid here. You should have told me what was going on before the threats started."

They were both standing up, toe to toe, in each others faces.

"It was my business. I didn't know he was going to bring the kids into it."

"Your business?" Toby said, brows going up. "It isn't just your business. When you brought me into your life, you made it my business too."

"Then maybe I made a mistake picking you up!" Chris retorted, hotly.

Toby sucked in a sharp breath. Heart sinking, Chris realized he'd let his temper run away with his mouth.

"Maybe you did."

"Toby-- " he said, ready to apologize.

"No," Toby said, putting his hands on Chris's shoulders. "We've both made mistakes, but the two of us, that's not one of them." One hand moved to the nape of Chris's neck, pulling him down so their foreheads touched. "We'll figure this mess out."

"And tomorrow?"

"I'm still taking the kids to the park."

"Then I'm going with you."

"Good. Since you're not going to work, you might as well turn in your resignation."

Chris jerked back so he could scowl at Toby. "So now you're going to tell me how to lead my life?"

Toby grinned from ear to ear. "Damn right."

"Does this mean I get to tell you how to lead yours?"

The grin slipped a little, but Toby nodded. "Yeah. You have a say in my life, too."

"Good. I want you to see a doctor. Tell him about those weird seizures or whatever they are."

Damn if that didn't make Toby happy. "I'll make an appointment first thing in the morning."

They still had a lot to hash out, but Chris decided to just enjoy the moment.

---

Chris stood over Toby, arms folded, while Toby made a call to his doctor. Toby rolled his eyes at Chris, but took the whole thing with good-natured cheer for so early in the morning. Toby was usually a grump until he'd had breakfast.

Then it was Toby's turn to loom as Chris made the call to the garage.

"You better not be calling in sick," Ronnie said. "We're backed up."

"I'm not sick, Ronnie. But I won't be coming in. I quit."

A long pause, then Ronnie proved that he could occasionally show a little perception. "This about Vincenzo Nappa?"

"Partly. But it's a lot of other things too."

"He left another message for you. He wants to see you tomorrow night. Same place, same time."

"Fuck," Chris said. "Thanks, Ronnie."

"I hate that you're quitting, but maybe it's for the best."

"I owe you one, Ronnie. I'm going to give you a heads up: the cops aren't nosing around, but other people are. You might want to tell your uncle to move the operation to be on the safe side." Ronnie's uncle didn't need to know that the 'other people' was a private investigator for Toby's father. If that guy knew, then the cops wouldn't be far behind.

"He was already working on it, but he won't be happy about speeding up the time table on the move."

Chris hung up, ignoring Toby's curiosity. "What was that about?"

"Nothing. Let's eat, then pick up the kids."

"You still think it's a bad idea?" Toby asked. "He'd be a fool to make a move in broad daylight in public. And we'll both be there."

Chris shrugged. He didn't mention that Vincenzo had already made a move when he approached Harry at the store. Chris could tell that Toby was suspicious, but Chris didn't enlighten him about the meet tomorrow night. The kids would be safe enough today, and after tomorrow, Vincenzo Nappa wouldn't be a problem any more.

---

It was weird how he was starting to recognize people. There were the two moms, sitting on the bench watching their boys play on the monkey bars, one with an infant in a stroller bundled up like a tiny pink mummy. Toby had pointed out the English nanny with the twins last time they'd been to the park. There were other familiar faces scattered about, people he had waved at in passing because Toby waved at them, and it seemed like the dad thing to do.

They were still two of the very few men that came to the park. Until Chris spotted a guy standing under a tree, not far from the see-saw and the twins. Thinking he might be one of Vincenzo's crew, Chris pointed him out to Toby.

"Son of a bitch!" Toby said, loud enough that several heads turned.

"Toby?" Chris said, not shocked at the words, but shocked that Toby would talk like that in front of children.

Then Toby took off in a flat out run, like a torpedo headed straight at the enemy. The enemy turned out to be the guy under the tree who, catching sight of Toby coming at him full-bore, turned to run but it was already too late. Toby had the man down on the ground and--

Holy fuck!

Shaking off his surprise, Chris ran across the playground, still hardly believing that Toby - kind, patient Toby - was driving his fists into some guy's body over and over. He could hear the meaty thunk of Toby's punches over the man's screams. There were exclamations coming from all over the park, and someone yelled something about calling the police. Fuck!

Chris had been in enough fights himself, been a bouncer a few times in his life, so he waited for the right moment to jump in and grab Toby and haul him up and off the other man.

"Let me go, god damn it!" Toby screamed.

Toby was twisting in his arms like a wild thing, very nearly smashing Chris's nose with the back of his head, but Chris managed to turn his head enough that he only got a hard knock to his cheekbone.

"Fuck, Toby, settle down!" Chris yelled, "They're calling the police!"

"Don't let him get away!" The man got up from the ground, staggered around a bit, his face bloody. "He's a child molester!" Toby yelled louder. "Child molester!"

It was as if Toby had called down God's avenging angels. The two moms appeared out of nowhere, purses swinging, and the guy went down in a heap. They got in a few more blows, the mom of the little pink bundle got in at least one good kick. Another woman called out, "The police are on their way!"

Just like that, the fight went out of Toby. He collapsed against Chris, almost taking them both down, but Chris braced himself and took the weight. Toby was breathing hard and shaking all over.

Urgently, Chris said, "Toby, we've got to go. We can't be here when the police get here."

One of the women looked up. "Is this man really a child molester?"

"Yes," Toby's voice sounded thin and weak, but he kept talking anyway, "He's a convicted child molester. Name is Jerry Halpern. Spent the last five years in Oswald. He's a registered sex offender and he's breaking the law by being near kids."

The woman nodded, "You better get out of here then." Chris was already maneuvering Toby toward the parking lot. "We'll tell the police," she smiled, and not in a nice way, either, "that he fell down."

Holly and Harry were standing there, eyes huge, Dani clutched tight to Holly's side.

"C'mon, we need to get your dad to the car."

The kids were freaked out and Toby looked like he was about to puke. Somehow, Chris got everyone loaded into the SUV just as the cops showed up, blue lights flashing.

It was so quiet on the way home, no chatter from the back, Toby staring down at his hands. Chris finally turned the radio on before he started freaking out, too.

Finally home, Chris stowed Toby in the bathroom, made him sit on the edge of the tub, then parked the kids in front of the TV with juice and cookies. The kids would be fine until he got Toby straightened out.

It was surprising to see himself as the one holding it all together. He was the one always getting into trouble, forced to get himself out, no one to lean on. Something fundamental inside him started changing when Bonnie was diagnosed with cancer. For the first time in his life, he had been the strong one, the one someone needed, not just for his body or to be used, but to do something important, something meaningful.

Part of him resented it, but part of him wondered how easy it was, how natural it felt to be responsible for others, to be the one they looked to for safety.

Toby needed him. Chris got down to the business of cleaning Toby up, wetting a wash cloth to clean the scrapes on his knuckles first, then getting antiseptic out of the medicine cabinet to disinfect the small wounds. There was going to be a lot of bruising and swelling so when Holly came to the bathroom door Chris asked her to get a dish towel and put ice in it.

Chris had learned that kids are pretty resilient, Holly looked more curious than scared when she left.

"I didn't want them to see me like that," Toby said, so quietly that Chris would have missed it if he hadn't been kneeling in front of him. Toby sat there, head down, not flinching or looking up the whole time Chris dressed his hands.

"You can't hide stuff from kids, Toby. They're smarter than you think."

"I'm so fucked up. They deserve better."

Starting to feel a little angry, Chris grabbed one of Toby's shoulders and shook him. "Stop it. Everybody deserves better, but we play the hand we're dealt. Holly and Harry don't care if you're fucked up, they just want their dad."

"Yeah, we don't care if you're fucked up."

That got Toby's attention. His head shot up as he stared at his daughter standing in the doorway, a yellow dish towel full of ice in her hands. Chris started chuckling, he couldn't help it. Then Toby started laughing with a strange edge to it, but Holly was grinning and Harry came running to see what was going on.

Standing up, Chris made a unilateral decision as he shooed everyone into the living room. "I'm ordering Chinese food."

Later, after lunch, a cartoon marathon on tv, and while Dani was napping, Toby chickened out of talking with Holly and Harry, just mumbled some nonsense about not solving problems with violence. Holly had rolled her eyes at him, Harry had simply looked bewildered.

It was Chris who talked to them as he drove them back to their Grandparent's house.

"Can you two keep a secret?"

"I can. Harry can't."

"Yes, I can!" Harry elbowed Holly, and a poking match broke out in the back seat.

"Okay you two, cut it out! I have something important to say, here!"

The kids settled down and Holly said, "I'll listen. Harry's a baby."

"I am not! You shut up!"

Chris sighed. "Look, what happened at the park, you can't tell your grandparents."

"I know that!" Holly said, glaring at him. "I'm not stupid."

"No, you're not. You're one of the smartest kids I know." Seeing Harry's frown in the rear view mirror, Chris added, "You both are."

Chris was sure Holly could keep a secret. Harry was another matter. He just had to hope Harry was too young to understand what had happened at the park.

Mrs. Beecher met them at the door, ushering the kids inside. "Where's my son?"

"He's not feeling too good, Mrs. Beecher," Chris said, not bothering to use his best smile, it never seemed to work on her. Straightforwardness thawed her frosty demeanor a degree or two, so he kept his own manner cool, but polite.

Her brow furrowed, "I'll stop by and see him tomorrow, bring him some soup."

"You don't want to do that, it looks like it's going to turn into something nasty. You don't want to catch it."

"I hope the children don't get it," she still looked like she might try and visit her son. He couldn't let her do that, there was no way to explain why Toby's hands were all beat up.

"I'll look after him. He'll be fine."

She pinned him with knowing eyes, making him scuff his feet and look at anything but her. Heat rose in his face, something that hadn't happened to him since the nuns in Catholic school who tried to get him to confess to everything from cheating on tests to putting his hand up the girl's skirts.

"You should bring Dani here," she said, surprising him. "Toby won't be able to take care of her while he's sick. And we don't want her to catch it, either."

She knew something was up, yet she wasn't calling him on it. She was probably going to pump the kids for information later, but he suddenly didn't give a damn. The shit with Vincenzo Nappa was stretching his nerves to the breaking point and it was obviously getting to Toby too. If the scene at the park wasn't about Toby being stressed to the limit, then he didn't know what it was. Anyway, Dani would be safer here.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Bring her tonight. I'll be waiting."

"Thanks. I really mean it. You've done a lot for Dani."

As Chris turned go, she held him back with a light touch on his arm.

"My son..." she bit her lip. "Is he in trouble?"

"No, no," Chris said, shaking his head, because it was almost true. He put his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. "He'll be fine. Just a couple of days, everything will be fine."

Back to being Mrs. Frosty, she stepped away with a regal nod. "I'll be expecting you later, Chris."

"Sure thing, Mrs. B." he said, knowing it would get under her skin. He grinned at her offended sniff as he walked out the door.

---

It was late when Chris got back from dropping Dani off along with Snuffly and enough clothes to last a few days. It was a waste of time for Chris to drive all the way back to his place to pick up clothes since Toby was sure his mother was going to take Dani on another massive shopping expedition. Dani was probably going to outgrow most of it before she could wear it.

Too restless to sit still, Toby wandered from room to room, tidying up rooms that were already tidy. His body wouldn't let him rest, yet he only wanted to curl up in bed, stick his head under the pillow and sleep for a month.

He couldn't stop thinking about the park, about losing control, snapping so completely that it was almost like he was in Oz again. One moment he was talking to Chris, watching the kids playing, the next he was being dragged, screaming like a lunatic, off a man he had known from prison. He'd turned into a crazy man in front of his children. What if he had hurt one of them?

He hid his face in his hands, close to hyperventilating. Jesus, he was so fucked in the head.

Then a familiar voice called to him, "Toby, stop it." Footsteps shushed across the carpet, strong hands grasped his wrists and pulled his arms down.

"Chris," and Toby burrowed into warmth and safety, pushing his face into the curve of Chris's throat, pressed body to body. Chris let go of Toby's wrists to wrap his arms around him, giving his strength without restraint. Toby sagged with relief. "Don't let go."

"I won't."

This was so much better than hiding his head under a pillow. A pillow didn't mold to his body, enfold him, give without smothering. A pillow didn't smell so incredibly good. Suddenly, he knew what he wanted to do, and it scared him, yet he couldn't deny himself. He wanted whatever it was that had been building between them since they met. He wanted it. He wanted Chris.

Decision made, Toby pressed his mouth to the hollow of Chris's throat. Chris sucked in a breath, tensed to push him away, but Toby held on, working his way up the column of Chris's throat to the line of his jaw. The scratch of stubble against his lips was new and more exciting than he expected.

Chris pulled back. "Toby."

"Kiss me," he said. "Then we'll decide what comes next."

Chris studied Toby's face for a long moment, then with a groan pressed his mouth to Toby's in a clumsy bump of lips that was almost painful. Pulling back, Chris frowned. "I can do better than that."

Then he did.

The next kiss was a careful brush of lips, teasing with the lightest pressure, then harder for one moment, then drawing back to start all over again. Toby's lips parted, wanting more, but Chris continued with the teasing until Toby was so roused that he buried his hands in Chris's hair, tilting his head for a lush kiss.

Toby felt Chris smile against his mouth before opening up and letting Toby in. The sensation was electrifying, the taste of Chris's mouth sweet. Their tongues move together as Toby chased more of that unique flavor.

An endless time later, Toby still absorbed in the pleasure of kissing, Chris gently took control, softened the kiss until their lips were barely touching.

"Toby," Chris murmured, his lips too far away. When Toby tried to capture Chris's mouth again for another kiss, Chris turned his head so Toby ended up kissing his jaw. That's not a bad place to be, Toby could work with that. "Toby," Chris said, louder. "We're not doing this in your office."

"Why not?" he asked, rubbing his mouth against a bit of stubble that he'd found at the corner of Chris's jaw. That bit of roughness felt fantastic against lips sensitized by kisses.

"Because I want you naked, spread out on your bed."

Toby's breath caught. "Oh."

The last thing Toby wanted to do was drag himself out of Chris's arms, but reluctantly he did it. Taking Chris by the hand, Toby lead him upstairs, neither of them disturbing the moment by talking.

Toby stood by the side of the bed, studying it as he toed his shoes off and let his shirt slide to the floor. He was going to do things on that bed, naked, sweaty things with Chris. His fingers worked at the button of his pants as he looked at the bed, that comfortable, luxurious king-sized bed. Not at all like the narrow bunks in Oz--

--pushed face down, heavy weight against his back, hurting so badly he couldn't stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes. Schillinger had only ever used enough lube for his own comfort, never enough to spare Toby any pain. His pain and humiliation had been part of the pleasure for Toby's tormentor. All the people who had watched and done nothing, who had known and done nothing--

Toby's hands failed on the last button of his pants. Turning to Chris, Toby blurted, "I can't."

Chris was down to his pants and undershirt. "Toby?"

"I can't," was all he could get out.

Chris didn't make the mistake of trying to touch him. He kept his voice soft, "Toby, tell me what's wrong."

"I can't do it. I want to, but I can't. You don't know. You don't know what happened in there, what he did-- " The words choked off.

"Toby, I think I have a good idea."

"No, you don't. I can't let you touch me, do... things to me."

Chris hands worked open his belt buckle. "Then I won't."

Relief nearly made Toby's knees weak. Right behind that was a terrible disappointment. But Chris didn't seem to be upset. In fact, he was still stripping out of his clothes, slowly and carefully, trying not to spook Toby.

"What are you doing? I thought we weren't going to do anything."

"I'm not. You are," he said, as his pants dropped to the floor.

"Excuse me?"

Chris was smiling as he pulled his undershirt off and let it fall. He was down to his boxers, but Toby determinedly kept his eyes on Chris's face.

"I'm going to get naked and get on that bed. I'm just going to lie there and let you do whatever you want. If all you want to do is kiss, then we'll kiss. If you want more than that, it'll be up to you."

With that, he let his boxers fall. Naked, he walked to the bed and grabbed the comforter and unceremoniously dumped it on the floor. Peeling back the next blanket and the top sheet, he folded them down. As Chris climbed onto the bed, Toby let himself look at Chris, every nude inch from head to toe. He'd seen it all in the shower room in Oz, at least he thought he had, until he let his gaze wander appreciatively over the masculine breadth of Chris's body.

In the middle of the bed, Chris rolled onto his back, stuffed a pillow under his head, then sprawled there, watching Toby intently. Toby could only stare right back. Chris was beautiful, long lines and sculpted muscles, a sprinkling of hair on his chest, a trail leading down a flat belly to a dark nest of curls at the base of his hard cock.

His cock should have looked ugly, but it didn't. Sleek and flushed a deep rose, it was almost pretty. Toby wanted to touch it, touch Chris's cock, trace the head with his fingertips, feel the length of it in his palm.

Toby drifted closer to the bed, ridding himself of his undershirt, not taking his eyes off Chris until his knees touched the bed. He let his gaze move over Chris's body, the arch of his ribs, nipples that made Toby's mouth water.

Of all the things that had been done to Toby, or that he had been forced to do, there had never been any intimacy. Body open, vulnerable, Chris was offering him intimacy, a closeness he hadn't experienced in three years.

Gaze locked on Chris's, Toby shucked out of the rest of his clothes and got on the bed, crawling closer to Chris, drawn to blue eyes that held such longing. Kneeling next to Chris, Toby looked down into his face seeing genuine understanding and because of that, desire held in check.

In that moment, Toby knew he could do anything to Chris. He was open to anything Toby had to give, even if it was only a kiss. It was an amazing show of trust; he swore to himself that he would never abuse it.

Chris's eyes were clear and steady on Toby, not making a sound, but his lips shaping Toby's name again and again. Toby had had no choice but to lean forward and kiss his name from Chris's mouth.

The vibration of Chris's moan buzzed across his lips, making them tingle. He could stay and do nothing but kiss all night, Chris would let him. But there was so much more that he wanted.

Looking down at Chris's cock, jutting up slim and proud from a nest of dark curls, Toby wasn't afraid or disgusted. How many times had Toby felt a cock in his mouth, invading, choking him? But this cock wasn't part of his most hated enemy, it was part of Chris. Toby discovered that he wanted it, wanted to touch and taste every inch of Chris, even this.

The women Toby had slept with had all shaved their legs and under their arms and kept their pubic areas ruthlessly trimmed. Toby laid curious hands on Chris's body, wanting to know the feel of the crisp hair on Chris's legs, the dark curls at the base of his cock, the silky puffs under his arms like a secret revealed.

Chris's body rose and fell under Toby's hands, arching into his touch, shamelessly offering himself up for more. It was a revelation how good it felt to touch Chris, watch him take pleasure in Toby's explorations.

Chris sighed deeply. "Toby."

"You're beautiful."

Smiling, Chris said, "I bet you say that to all the boys."

Toby took the statement seriously. He reached up to cup Chris's jaw. "Only you."

---

Chris didn't know if he could keep his hands off of Toby for much longer. Toby's careful touches had been an almost unbearable tease. When Toby kissed him again, Chris's whole body twitched in an instinctive move to make contact with Toby.

As tempting as it was to grab Toby and go a little crazy with him, Chris was enjoying the hell out of letting Toby take the lead. It felt so good to let someone else take control. An even greater turn on was the frank desire that Toby expressed with every kiss, every touch. Toby might be a little unsure, but there was no doubt that he wanted Chris.

Since he couldn't touch back, Chris let his gaze roam over Toby's body, taking in his flushed skin, the wiry muscles in his arms, his hard cock already wet at the tip. Chris groaned, wanting to take Toby's cock into his hands, his mouth, but waiting to see what Toby would do next.

What Toby did next nearly destroyed his resolve to lie back and let Toby control the pace. After all his careful explorations, Chris wasn't expecting Toby to reach down and grab his dick. Chris gasped, his knuckles hitting the solid wood of the headboard as he tried to clutch at something other than Toby.

"God! Toby!"

When Toby made his mind up, he dived right in. Grinning wickedly, making sure Chris was watching, he leaned down and sucked Chris's nipple. Toby made an appreciative sound before working his way across Chris's chest to his other nipple. He went back and forth, nuzzling into Chris's chest hair along the way, while his hand stroked too gently up and down Chris's cock.

Panting, Chris was ready to beg. "C'mere! I need-- Come up here! Toby, please."

Suddenly at a loss, Toby's hand went still as he looked Chris over. His brow furrowed. "You don't like what I'm doing?"

"Fuck, Toby, I like what you're doing enough that I'm about to come." Chris clenched his hand on the top edge of the mattress in and effort to control himself. "I want you to come too. Get on top. I want to feel you."

"Oh!" Toby said, as if that was a surprising idea. Chris laughed a little at Toby's expression.

Once given some direction, Toby eagerly got on with the plan. Hand still gripping Chris's cock, Toby straddled his hips. The sudden contact of more skin, the solid weight pinning him down, made Chris writhe against the sheets.

"I could watch you like this all night," Toby said, with a note of amazement in his voice. "You're the sexiest thing I've seen in years."

Chris couldn't help but smirk up at Toby. "You've been in prison for years."

"You haven't seen some of the guys I was in prison with," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

Chris laughed, a burst of warmth in his chest. Then Toby leaned down and kissed him, chest brushing against Chris's, silky hair snagging at his, making him arch against Toby, wanting more. Toby seemed just as aroused by being skin to skin with Chris as he gasped into the kiss.

Their mouths melded from one kiss to another until Chris broke away, growling in protest when Toby let go of his cock. Growls turned into something like a purr when Toby smoothed his hands up Chris's belly to his chest to tweak his nipples.

Chris pushed into the touch, then realized that their cocks were perfectly aligned. Toby caught on at the same time, pushing down against Chris as Chris pushed up. There was a lot of noise after that, Toby biting down on Chris's shoulder, Chris thrusting his cock against the flat plane of Toby's belly.

Cocks nudged together in the tight space formed by their two bodies, slick with sweat and pre-come. Toby licked at Chris's collarbone, but went back to biting at his shoulder, sending zings of pleasure-pain straight to his cock.

They were in pure rut, bodies straining toward completion. Suddenly, Chris wanted to slow down so he could appreciate Toby feeling safe enough with him to go crazy, let go. It was only a passing thought, he was already too far gone to do anything more than hang on for the ride.

The bed shook under them as Toby caught them both up into a fierce rhythm, his body all but lunging against Chris's. Chris matched every thrust, digging his heels into the mattress for leverage.

Toby groaned something inarticulate, maybe Chris's name, against his shoulder, then his head reared back. Chris caught one moment of Toby's pleasure suffused face, eyes blazing, lips parted. Then wetness slicked his belly as Toby came all over him. Crying out, Chris felt his own pleasure roar through him, coming hard, more sticky wetness between them.

When Chris recovered enough that he'd notice if a high school band came marching through the room, Toby was lying half on, half off of him, cheek smashed against his shoulder. There was a pleasant ache there from all the bites.

Toby twitched. Slowly, he sat up. Chris wanted to hang onto him, but all Toby did was grab the blanket that was almost completely kicked off the foot of the bed, and drag it over the both of them. Toby rested his head on Chris's shoulder like it belonged there.

"Sleep," he muttered, and conked out like it was the first time he'd ever slept in his life.

Chris considered getting cleaned up, but that would mean leaving Toby and his big, comfy bed. Fuck that. Wrapping his arms around Toby, Chris followed him into sleep.

---

The next morning, Chris woke to Toby curled around him so tightly, he could barely move. That was okay by him. If he had his way, they would stay in bed all day.

He woke Toby with soft kisses, not caring about morning breath. It wasn't that bad, anyway. Sleepily, Toby muttered something incoherent, then returned the kisses. They moved together, rubbing and nudging each other until they were both awake enough to appreciate languorous morning handjobs.

To Chris's disappointment, they didn't stay in bed. After a shower long enough to use up all the hot water, they followed Toby's usual morning routine. Except they didn't drive to Toby's parent's house. Instead, they lounged around Toby's place, taking every opportunity to grope each other like teenagers.

But they weren't teenagers. While Chris made lunch, Toby stayed plastered to Chris's back, kissing the nape of his neck, pushing his soft cock against Chris's ass. The spirit was willing, but the body was unable until early evening.

They rubbed off again, too eager to get all their clothes off or move to the bedroom. The couch got a work out, creaking under their straining bodies. After cleaning up, Toby took Chris's wrist and started to lead him to the bed.

Chris stopped, pulled Toby around and kissed him. "Why don't I go out and get us something to eat?" Vincenzo was expecting Chris later. Not that either of them was going to show up at Marty's.

"Why don't we just throw something in the microwave?"

"Because I'm starving. I thought I might pick us up some cheeseburgers."

Toby frowned, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "Cheeseburgers sound good. Let me get my shoes on, I'll go with you."

Chris needed to nix that idea. "It'll be easier for me to go to a drive through. I'll be back in fifteen."

He didn't even make it to the hallway. Toby's hand landed on his shoulder. "Whoa there, cowboy. What's going on?"

"I'm just getting something to eat, Toby. Nothing's going on."

"Tell me the truth or I'm going to tie you to the bed and tickle it out of you."

"Kinky," Chris said with a smirk. "But there's nothing to tell."

"Good. Then I'll go with you."

Pretending hurt, Chris asked, "Don't you trust me, Toby?"

Toby sniffed. "Nice try. Are you going to try and pick a fight with me now so you can dramatically storm out? Or, wait, the old 'quit smothering me' routine."

"You really think you got my number."

"I'm beginning to, yes."

It looked like he'd have to be straight-forward with Toby. "I have some business to take care of."

Toby nodded slowly. "Vincenzo Nappa."

"Yeah."

"I'm going with you."

"No! Toby, I'm not going to have a civilized talk with him." Part of him wanted to beg Toby to just let it go. The less he had to think about what he was about to do, the better.

"I know." Toby went to a chest of drawers and pulled out some socks. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he put them on. "He threatened the kids. A man like that isn't going to be reasonable." When he looked up, his eyes were like ice. "We do this together, Chris. Every step of the way."

It went against every one of the rules Martelli had taught him. But deep down, he was grateful that he wouldn't have to do this alone. With Toby by his side, he could do the job without losing himself, without letting the heady power of it own him.

"We've got a lot to do, then. How do you feel about stealing a car?"

Toby grinned mirthlessly. "Considering what we're going to be doing with it, I feel pretty good about it."

---

Chris refused to let Toby in on this part. No matter what Toby had done in prison, he didn't know how to take someone down, quick and clean, leaving no trace. It shocked him, every time, how easy it was, especially with the element of surprise. Vincenzo never saw it coming, and yet he should have. The bodyguard wasn't much more difficult.

After the rush of adrenaline, of power, Chris went cold inside. His next moves were all mapped out, crystal clear, like a good chess game. He loved this moment. And he hated it. If he had worked for Martelli for very much longer, he would have become the kind of man who lived for this moment.

Shuddering, he got on with the job.

---

Chris looked at the apartment building, wrinkling his nose. Not the best neighborhood, dark and run down, and the police showing up, blue lights flashing, at all hours. She'd come way down in the world; then again, Kitty could live in a cesspool and still look as pretty as a dew covered rose.

Chris slipped out of the car he'd picked up on a side street somewhere down town. Keeping to the shadows was easy; waiting was hard in the cold, listening to a fight going on in a nearby apartment, hoping the police didn't get called.

The fight ended, lights flicked out in one window after another. Patience came easy; he had all night to tie up loose ends.

Kitty finally pulled into the parking lot in a crappy Nissan, a lot different than Vincenzo's Mercedes. The click of her heels was loud on the pavement as she hurried to the door. It was the work of a minute to surge out of the shadows and drag her into them.

He'd taught her a few moves years ago, and she must have learned a few more since then, but he handled her easily, avoiding her elbows and sharp kicks as he shoved her face against the brick wall. One hand over her mouth, he stifled the noises she made, pressing his body fully against her back.

Pressing his mouth to her ear, he kept his voice low. "Calm down and listen." Recognizing his voice, she went still. "Don't scream."

He took his hand from her mouth and settled it lightly around her throat. Her heartbeat galloped against his palm, but she stayed still and quiet.

"You know what happens to people who can't keep their mouths shut?" His hand tightened around her throat, enough to make her cough, but not enough to bruise. After a moment, he let his hand relax. "You know too much, and you're not smart enough to keep it to yourself. The next time you feel the need to blab, remind yourself what I used to do for Martelli. I can make you go away. I doubt if anyone would miss you." He tightened his hand again. "You understand?"

Abruptly letting her go, he moved off without looking back. But he could hear her choking and coughing, then the frantic scratch of keys in the door lock. Chris got into the car and let his gloved hands rest on the steering wheel for a minute as he fought the queasiness in his gut.

"Put your seat belt on," Toby said.

He fumbled it on, then started the engine.

---

They drove. They passed through cities, towns, suburbs. Almost dawn and they were driving mostly through farmland and tiny backwater towns. The farms were tidy, lights glowing from a window here and there, but most of them dark. With the sky brightening, Toby could see cows and a few horses dozing in the fields.

Toby's eyes were gritty and his legs were cramping when Chris turned off the old highway and started navigating a series of increasingly rutted roads.

When Chris turned off one badly cracked and potholed road onto some kind of gravel path that might once have been a driveway, Toby couldn't figure out what landmark distinguished this path from all the other overgrown tracks they had passed.

They would never have made it beyond a few feet in the middle of summer. As it was, the dead grass hissed loud as it brushed the undercarriage of the car. More than once the car bottomed out even though Chris was barely creeping along.

Eventually, they came to a gate hidden under a clump of old trees. Toby got out of the car when Chris did. He stood and fiddled with the rusty chain and padlock while Chris got what he needed from the trunk. Toby didn't need to look back there again, not until it was time.

Toby held the flashlight as Chris sprayed the lock and hinges with WD-40. With a lot of pushing and shoving, they got the gate open.

"I took a chance coming here," Chris said, as he got in and closed the door with a muffled thunk. "I figured some yuppie would have bought this place by now, fixed it up as a vacation home or something."

"This place?"

The fence on either side of the driveway was down in most places, grown over with autumn-killed vines and dead weeds. At one point, they had to get out of the car and move some of the fencing out of the road where a storm must have come through. They were both sweating by the time Chris could move the car again.

Dawn crept up on them so gradually, that Toby didn't realize how early it was until they passed into the shadows of a grove of trees, old like they'd been there forever and would still be there at the end of time. Branches scratched at the roof of the car, making Toby shiver.

They broke into the morning sun, dim and cheerless. It was going to snow soon.

On the left was an old house, paint scoured away years ago, porch sagging almost completely off the front, windows broken. The chimney leaned far enough away from the house that it looked like the next big storm would send it to the ground.

"You really thought someone would buy this? The best thing you could do for this place is set a match to it."

Chris grunted, kept driving, looking neither right nor left. They passed what was left of a barn, hulking in the weeds, little more than a pile of rotting boards. In the next grove of trees, Chris stopped the car.

"Here?" Toby had kept his voice low, but it was still too loud in the silence.

Chris's answer was to get out of the car and head into the trees. Toby scrambled after him.

It wasn't far.

He stood next to Chris, his stomach knotting up as he stared at the stone well. This was it. This was the place where Chris kept so many of his secrets. There was a metal cover, rusted and mottled with some kind of green mold, bolted to the top of the well. The can of WD-40 would be getting another work out on the padlock and hinges.

"You can wait in the car. Or take a walk." Giving him one more out.

Toby grabbed Chris's hand in his, clamping down hard.

"Together. We're in this together." He pulled Chris around and headed back to the car. "I'm going to tell you a story, Chris. About a lawyer who didn't know how good he had it until it was too late."

Toby talked as they got the tools out of the trunk, the WD-40, the bags of lye, and the body of a man who was too ambitious for his own good, and the dumbass bodyguard who'd made the mistake of tying himself to a losing proposition.

He talked about a girl named Kathy Rockwell, a neo-Nazi hack named Metzger, the two sons of his enemy, both dead through his manipulation. He talked of addiction and guilt and penance, of fucking up too many times and getting more second chances than he deserved.

When it was done, Toby's throat was tight, his body thrumming with exhaustion. He leaned against the side of the car, letting his forehead rest against the icy metal. Chris rubbed at his neck with hands that had done so many awful things, but Toby could only find comfort in them.

---

It's dark again when they got back into the city. He pulled over where Toby can get a cab, but he just sat there.

"Toby?"

"When you're done with the car, come back to my place tonight."

"I was planning on it."

He didn't meet Toby's eyes. He could feel the skepticism, but Toby's voice is gentle. "Sleep. That's all."

That all Chris wanted. He was running on too many bad cups of coffee from too many drive through windows all the way home. The inside of his eyelids feel like they are lined with sandpaper and they're scratching away at his eyeballs with every blink. He was so tired, mind and body, that he just wanted to lay his head in Toby's lap and sleep for a hundred years.

"I'll be there as soon as I ditch the car."

Toby put his hand over the nape of Chris's neck, pulled him over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I won't sleep until you get there."

Then he's out of the car, jogging up the street to flag down a cab.

---

Toby can't remember the last time he slept. He spent a full five minutes standing and staring at his bed, almost asleep on his feet. Shaking himself, he walked into the bathroom, peeled out of his clothes like an old man, every movement slow and stiff. He almost cried as the hot water in the shower pounds his aching muscles. The expensive shower head was worth every penny.

Stumbling out of the shower, he went for the mouthwash to get the taste of a thousand miles of bad coffee and greasy food out of his mouth. Any attempt to use the toothbrush would end badly.

Toby couldn't do more than give himself a few quick swipes with a towel before dropping it to the floor and shuffling into the bedroom. Chris will be there soon, so Toby collapsed on the side of the bed to wait.

He could barely keep his eyes open. Getting back up to get eye-drops to soothe his bloodshot eyes was about as possible as climbing Mt. Everest. He couldn't even consider the notion of getting up to put on a t-shirt and sleep pants.

He waited. His eyes drifted shut. He forced them open. Slowly, the world went dark as his eyelids closed. His body gave into gravity and he tipped over on his side, half on half off the bed. He slept.

---

Pulling into the back lot behind the garage where he no longer worked, Chris got out and headed toward his own car. He could hear the faint bang and clatter of the work going on in the garage behind locked doors. The car that had held two bodies only a few hours ago would be broken down for parts, boxed up and shipped out before dawn. No loose ends, just like Martelli had taught him.

Lately it seemed like his whole life was nothing but loose ends, with Dani and Toby and Bonnie dying on him. Nothing resolved, nothing clean and neat. Vincenzo Nappa was not a problem any more, but there would be someone else. He could feel it to the marrow of his bones; it's just a matter of time before someone else comes along and decides that Chris might be useful.

The best thing he could do all around was leave. Dani needed someone who could offer her a better future than anything Chris could give her. The Beechers, Toby, have already accepted her, taken her in. Chris could feel the bitter smile twist his tired face - he's pretty sure that Mrs. B. would be thrilled to have Dani free and clear.

Pulling into the garage of his house, Chris allowed himself one glance at his bike. He'd have to leave it behind. Toby would take care of it and the house.

Chris filled two duffel bags: clothes, a small money stash, a fake ID he'd picked up a couple of years ago. He wasn't sure if it was still any good. He almost left it behind, but at the last minute, Chris went back to his bedroom and got Dani's baby book out of the closet. Mrs. Beecher probably had a new one all picked out and ready to be filled in. They wouldn't need this one.

Throwing the duffel bags onto the back seat of his car, Chris got behind the wheel and headed out of town.

---

Toby opened his eyes to an almost completely dark room, the only light a faint glow from under the curtains. He startled, heart pounding painfully in his chest. Did he actually leave the bathroom light off? He wasn't sure if that was a step in the right direction for him, or a testament to how completely spent his body had been when he fell asleep.

Getting out of bed, Toby pulled back the curtains. Damn, he'd slept through the entire night and most of the day. A couple of hours until dusk and Chris wasn't there. His brain was already making excuses, but there was a terrible feeling in his gut that told him Chris hadn't simply sacked out in his own bed, too tired to drive.

Letting go of the curtain, Toby sat on the bed and picked up the phone.

---

Chris didn't get far before he was forced to pull into a motel and check in. The minute he got into the room, body shaking with exhaustion, he face planted on the bed and was asleep before his head hit the mattress.

Opening sleep gritty eyes, Chris could tell by the artificial light falling through the crack in the curtains that it was night again. Rubbing at his face, Chris turned his head to check the bedside clock. Fourteen hours straight and he still felt like he could roll over and sleep another fourteen, but his bladder wouldn't let him. When he was done, he stumbled back out to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to wake up.

More sleep was an appealing thought, but he knew he had to put some distance behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. There were nine messages waiting for him and he listened to every one. He erased the one from Ronnie, but kept the rest. A hot shower, shave and a much needed visit with his toothbrush later, there were three more messages.

He checked out of the motel, got in his car and aimed it toward Florida.

---

Damn it! Toby slammed the phone down and sat fuming. Chris still wasn't answering his phone or returning his calls. He'd spent most of yesterday evening pacing and worrying. Toby had forced himself to eat, then called his mom to check on the kids.

He was accustomed to the new routine with Dani, and he was still weary from so many hours on the road. Eventually, he had no choice but to leave a last message for Chris, then he went to bed.

Toby spent the morning drinking too much coffee and pacing. He should have stayed with Chris. He should have stuck to Chris while he ditched the car. Separating had been a bad idea and if Toby had been less fatigued, he would have realized it. How could he have been so stupid?

By noon, he couldn't stand another minute climbing the walls, worrying about Chris. Grabbing his keys, he drove to his mother's.

---

Close to midnight, Chris pulled into a truck stop for a couple of hamburgers. He barely tasted the food; it was just fuel to keep him going. Getting out his cell phone, he listened to all the saved messages again, then the six new ones.

He could still put a few more hours in on the road, but he checked into a motel anyway, cheap but clean. After taking another shower, he got into bed. He made sure the cell phone was on the charger.

---

Toby was tempted to spend the night at his parents, but Chris could come back at any time. After dinner, he drove home. Being with the kids all day had helped settle the frantic worry into a dull ache.

He didn't know when or why Chris had become so important to him. Sitting in his office, cell phone in hand, all he knew was that he wouldn't feel right again until Chris came home.

---

In the morning, there were twenty-two messages on his phone. Chris listened to the new ones over breakfast, then hit the road.

---

Toby drove back to his parent's house the next morning, ate with the kids and saw them off to school. He was surprised when his father came home for lunch. Watching his father tie Dani's bib, then help her with her food, Toby had a good idea what was coming.

After the table was cleared, Toby's father stood up. "Come to my office, Toby. We need to talk."

"You're right," Toby said, throwing his napkin down. "Mom needs to hear this too." Toby's mother started to speak but Toby shook his head. "The housekeeper can keep an eye on Dani for a few minutes. She'll be fine."

Mouth in a disapproving line, she took Dani into the kitchen, then joined Toby and his father in the office.

Toby couldn't sit, but he knew it would be annoying as hell if he paced around like he wanted to. His father stood near the desk, while his mother sat down on the small leather sofa.

"Toby," his father said, looking concerned. "I think we both know that Keller isn't coming back. We have Dani's future to consider-- "

"No, we don't."

"Toby-- "

"You are not using this as an excuse to get yourselves another grandchild! Chris and Dani are a package deal."

"Apparently, Keller doesn't think so," his father said.

"Chris got into some trouble and he thinks the best thing he can do for Dani is to leave her. He's wrong. And you're wrong if you think Dani is better off without him."

"We have to be realistic about this. Keller isn't here," he said, holding out his hands and looking around like Chris might appear out of nowhere. "He abandoned his daughter leaving us to pick up the pieces."

Toby gritted his teeth, knowing damn well that the word 'abandoned' had been carefully chosen. "I abandoned my kids too, Dad. I abandoned them for alcohol. For a prison sentence. Do I deserve to have them taken from me?"

"That's not the same thing, Toby!"

"No, it's worse." Digging his hands through his hair, Toby said, "I need you to listen to me, Dad. Mom." Looking from one to the other, Toby let the words spill out. "There's something wrong with me. There was something wrong with me a long time ago, before prison. My life was a sham and I didn't even know it. I was a hollow excuse of a man."

"Toby," his mother said.

"Just listen. Please," he pleaded. "I'm not blaming you, okay? I'm not blaming anyone but myself. I made some bad choices and I can't blame it all on alcohol. That was just another symptom." Trying to gather the right words together, he said, "I need him. And he needs me. I don't want to do this without him because I don't think I have the strength. I'm scared to death I'm going to fail again. I know Chris won't let me."

He could see that both his parents were struggling to understand. Bewildered, his father finally threw up his hands. "Why this man? There are so many good, decent people out there who can help you. And you have us, your family."

"I know! You've done so much for me already. I don't want to sound ungrateful."

"I don't help you so that you'll be grateful, Toby. I do it because you are my son. I want what's best for you."

"Then please believe me, Dad. Chris is what's best for me."

A good lawyer knows when to shut up. Toby waited while his father mulled everything over. Finally, he sighed. "If Keller isn't back by tomorrow, I'll contact our investigators. We'll find him."

Toby swallowed hard. "Thank you, Dad."

---

By lunch, he couldn't resist getting the cell phone out again. Thirty messages. With one hand on the wheel, he couldn't stop listening to Toby's voice in his ear.

"...where are you...?"

"...call me..."

"...don't do this..."

"...please call me..."

"...damn it! Call!..."

"...I know you're scared, but running isn't the answer..."

"...don't do this to Dani..."

"...isn't about Dani. It isn't about me. This is about family. You have a family now..."

"...you don't have to call, just come home..."

"...please, Chris, come home..."

"...get your ass home so I can knock some sense into..."

"...doesn't matter. Just come home.."

"...come home..."

"...come home..."

"...come home..."

Suddenly, Chris crushed the phone against the steering wheel as he rolled the window down with his other hand. For a full five minutes he sat poised to throw the phone out the window, cold wind blowing in his face. Finally, cursing a blue streak, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

Still cursing, he took the next exit.

---

Toby spent the day at Chris's house. It didn't need a thorough cleaning, but it did need to be tidied up. Toys needed to be gathered up and put away, clothes laundered, the floor vacuumed. The most urgent business was to take the garbage out, it was getting kind of ripe.

When the last load of laundry was in the dryer, Toby wandered back to Chris's room. It was really Bonnie's room with the pale colors and feminine furniture. There was a tray of perfumes and cosmetics on the dresser, a scarf draped over a lamp and when he looked in the closet, it was full of Bonnie's clothes.

He pulled out a dress and stared at it for a minute because, okay, big. Very big. Toby held it up in front of him and smiled, shaking his head. This wasn't at all what he expected from someone married to Chris.

Putting the dress away, he looked around and found a framed photo, Bonnie holding an infant. She was much smaller in the picture, already losing weight because of the cancer. He felt sadness for her that she wouldn't be around to raise the daughter she had wanted so much. Then anger when he thought of Chris turning his back on Dani.

Putting down the photo, Toby sat down on the unmade bed. He ran his hand over the rumpled sheet where Chris had been. Toeing off his shoes, Toby curled up on the bed, burying his face in Chris's pillow. God, he could smell Chris! Wrapping his arms around the pillow, Toby breathed the scent, taking it in. He wanted to touch Chris, kiss him, make love to him again.

When Chris got home, when not if, Toby was going to kick his ass. Then he was going to take him to bed for a week. After he had convinced Chris to never leave again, and he'd use handcuffs if he had to, they would talk.

This wasn't Chris's home. Neither was Toby's townhouse. They'd find another place, but not right away. They had a lot of plans to make and they'd make them together.

When Toby left Chris's house, he took the pillow with him.

---

A wave of relief nearly overwhelmed him when he spotted Toby's SUV in the driveway. Chris parked and sat clutching the steering wheel, staring at the light spilling from the windows of the house. The front door light was on, as well as the one over the garage.

This wasn't his house, but every part of his being shouted that he was home. In his whole life it had never occurred to him that home might be a person.

Getting out of the car, Chris left the duffel bags and the stupid cell phone behind as he crossed the lawn. His knock on the door was answered almost immediately.

Toby clutched the doorknob, like he'd fall down if he didn't have a tight enough grip. He just stared at Chris for the longest time, not noticing or not caring about the cool, damp wind ruffling his hair. Clothes rumpled, dark circles under his eyes, weariness in every line of his body, Toby had never looked so good.

"I really want to kick you in the nuts right now," he said.

Chris couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. If this was all the welcome he would get, he'd take it.

Stepping through the door, he wrapped his arms around Toby and held on until Toby grabbed onto him, hands burrowing under Chris's leather jacket.

"Don't ever do that again," Toby growled into the crook of Chris's neck.

"I won't, Toby, I won't," he said.

It was a promise.

END

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