Happy Birthday, maverick4oz
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Happy Birthday, Mav
Title: A Gift Horse
Fandom: Oz, SVU
Pairing: Toby/Stabler
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Second chances come unexpectedly.
Toby stopped breathing when he saw the man coming down the steps of NY Supreme Court. Chris…it couldn't be… Chris was dead. Toby unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie, before resting his hands on his knees. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, until the oxygen was flowing to his brain again.
He stood up, only to find bright blue eyes staring back with concern.
"Are you all right, Sir?" said the man.
*Sir*, Chris would never have called him 'Sir'; Chris probably would have never called anyone 'Sir'. Toby forced his mouth to move again. "Yeah… yes, I'm fine. Thank you for you concern." It killed him inside to use such polite and cold language with a man he wanted to hug, kiss, fuck. He had to remind himself that this man was not Chris.
The man studied him for a moment, before speaking again. "You don't look so hot. Maybe, we should call the paramedics."
Toby shook his head, and sighed. "No, I assure you; I'm fine. It's just…you…"
The man's eyebrows went up. "Me?" Then his eyes narrowed, and took another look at Toby. "I don't remember you. Did I investigate anything related to you?"
A cop, oh the irony. Toby let out a cold laugh. "No, you didn't, and you have no reason to remember me. You… you are spit image of someone I knew, someone I loved…. He's dead."
"I see."
The warm hands on Toby's arm disappeared as the cop straightened up. "Sorry if I distressed you."
Toby shrugged the apology off. "It's not your fault you look like Chris." Then he extended a hand. "Tobias Beecher."
The cop waited a moment, before shaking Toby's hand. "Elliot Stabler. Nice to meet you, Mr. Beecher." Their hands remained joined for another moment, before Elliot spoke again. "There's a coffee shop right on Worth. Let me buy you coffee, make sure you're really okay…it's the least I can do."
Toby snorted. He knew the coffee shops around here: dirty, overcrowded and filled with cops, criminals and immigrants waiting to get inside Federal Plaza. No way in hell that he would sit with his handmade suit in one of those shops. "Tell you what. There's a Starbucks on Reade and Broadway, just a few blocks from here, and please, call me 'Toby'."
"It's just overpriced coffee, *Toby*."
"Yes, but you get a clean seat," Toby answered with a grin, which got bigger when Stabbler smiled. "I'll even pay. I wouldn't want to put a dent on a cop salary."
Stabler laughed. "Even a cop can spare five bucks."
"Ten if you want scones," Toby said in a whisper, getting that smile again, a smile he had learned to love.
"How could I possibly afford *that*? All right, let's go." Elliot began walking down Lafayette. "So, are you a lawyer?"
Toby nodded. "I started practicing again this year…"
He went on telling Elliot about himself, omitting his sting in Oz. There would be time for that; he made sure of that when he blatantly asked for Elliot's number. Elliot had mentioned an ex wife, but Toby had been married too; it didn't mean anything. Toby didn't know what would come of this chance meeting, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
I tried writing Chris/Toby, but for some reason I can't write canon ships. Also all streets, buildings and coffee shops are real since I work in that little square of Manhattan.