The first thing that Toby saw when he walked up to the dining room table were the crepes--golden brown and lightly sprinkled with powdered sugar. There was also a platter filled with sizzling bacon and another dish had some sort of buttered biscuits piled in it. The table was set--with the everyday dinnerware and there was orange juice sitting in a carafe.
Blinking his eyes, Toby was surprised to see the food was still there. Suddenly, the kitchen door swung open and a handsome man walked out, carrying a coffeepot. It was the man from the park--and something more. Images of the man sucking on his neck flashed through Toby's mind as he smiled cautiously.
"Hey, you're up!" The man sat down in a chair and gestured to the one beside him. Toby eased himself into the seat. His head still felt like it was encased in cotton--a side effect of the medication.
Food was piled onto a plate, until the man nodded in satisfaction and slid it in front of Toby. "Eat up, you need it. You're a bit underweight. Coffee?" Toby nodded and the man reached out and poured the steaming beverage into a mug. "Cream and sugar?"
"Just cream. Thank you." Toby mumbled as he picked up a fork and examined the food cautiously before he began to eat. The food was delicious, but he could only nibble at the food while his stomach was turning summersaults.
"Everything is delicious. Thank you. But, um..."
"Who the heck am I and what am I doing in your apartment?" Toby's head shot up, startled, and looked at the amused countenance.
"I know who you are, sorta. Your name is Chris and you kiss like an angel, but...um'-- I'm a little hazy on the rest." To Toby's everlasting shame, he could feel his cheeks heating up with obvious embarrassment.
A gentle hand was placed over his, and Toby lifted his eyes reluctantly to face the gently smiling countenance. "We only kissed, that's why you don't remember anything else. There's nothing else to remember."
Toby's eyes widened in astonishment. He stared into depthless sapphire eyes that radiated with love and affection for HIM. //This man is gorgeous and he's looking at me like he adores me--can this be possible? Could I be this lucky?//
"Why--?", he saw the black eyebrows raise in astonishment and amusement, "I mean--why did we stop? From what I remember, we seemed to both be enjoying ourselves and there was definitely chemistry, so..."
"Oh, there was major 'sparkage', baby," Chris murmured seductively. A satisfied grin appeared when he witnessed Toby's cheeks flood with color.
"But, a gentleman doesn't take advantage," Chris' reasonable tone explained as he squeezed Toby's hand gently. "When I recognized the fact that you weren't quite...lucid--I stopped."
Chris leaned closer and traced a finger down the man's cheek, which was soft and smooth. "When you're ready, I intend to sweep you off of your feet, baby." Chris released Toby's hand and straightened in his chair. "You're happiness is very important to me. That used to be a line--that was very successful for me--but with you it's not bullshit."
"Wh-what if I'm never ready? I...I've never been in love with...a man." Toby's anxious eyes implored Chris to understand what he couldn't say aloud.
"I know, babe. You're in charge, here. You'll set the parameters. I'll just be happy to be a part of your life." Chris was surprised to find that this was true. This wasn't a scheme to seduce this cautious man. One of the happiest moments of Chris' life was when he discovered that Toby was alive.
Chris could feel his stomach muscles clenching with anxiety. So much of his future depended on what Toby needed from their relationship-- if he even wanted one with him. Chris knew that he was ready to make a commitment right now, but Toby had his family to consider. Surprisingly, the fact that this man was a devoted father was part of his appeal--the detective found the idea of becoming part of his family excited him.
Wide eyes studied the detective for several seconds, until Toby's face burst out in gentle laughter. "You're really something. I hate to burst your feelings of euphoria, but you don't know me. How can you be so sure that this is about love and not just...a momentary aberration--an infatuation?"
Chris smiled knowingly. "I've had a BIT of experience, and I know the difference between lust and love." He paused to gauge the blonde's reaction to that statement before he continued, "And I do know you, Tobe. I know how you think, what you value, your fears and insecurities. And all of it just makes me love you more."
He did know this man--when he saw that painting, his soul seemed to leap, as if it were recognizing something that was lacking in his life--or someone. The journals had only helped him to learn more about this complex and caring man.
"How could you know all of that? ESP?" Toby snapped, blue eyes flashing in anger. //How dare this stranger imply that he understands me. And why do I have the sinking suspicion that he just might be correct?//
"Well, that's all part of the reason that I'm here and I don't want to just blurt the information out."
"I woke up thinking that I had made love to a stranger that I'd found in my bed. What could be more shocking than that?" Toby took a sip of coffee as he pondered his own question. "Last night, you said something strange. You thought I was...DEAD!?"
//Yeah, me and the rest of the world.// Chris stood up and sank to his knees at Toby's feet. He placed his hands on the supple shoulders, kneaded them as he explained, "A man was shot in your apartment. As far as everyone knew, he was you."
"He's...dead?" Chris nodded his head in confirmation as he tightened his grip on the slim shoulders. Waiting.
"Jumpin' fuckin' Jesus. My family--the kids. I have to call them and let them know that--."
Chris's hands held Toby in his seat, when he attempted to rise. "SSHHHH, baby. Calm down. The kids weren't told--your father didn't want to tell them just yet." Toby's shoulders heaved as he expelled a relieved breath and tried to calm himself. "And my captain is taking care of the rest. He gave me a call this morning and we decided that the FBI agents and him would swing by the house and tell them in person. He thought that would be best, since hearing your voice or your sudden appearance on their doorstep could be a hell of a shock!"
"That was very thoughtful of him," Toby stated when his agitated breathing was under control.
"Yeah, he's just a big pussycat."
A hesitant voice asked, "Chris, you said that a man died HERE?"
"Yeah. He was staying in your house and he was wearing your bathrobe. So the boneheaded FBI just assumed that it was you. And people wonder why we still don't know who really shot Kennedy-- Sheesh." Toby's shoulders began to tremble as the realization that his old friend was dead finally dawned. In an emotionless, mechanical tone he forced himself to explain slowly and reluctantly why there had been a stranger staying in his house. "I ran into a friend I hadn't seen since I graduated from Harvard. It was a running gag on the campus that we were the Gemini twins; we didn't really look that much alike but we were the same height and our hairstyles were similar."
Toby paused to lick his lips. He was grateful for the support of the strong arms, which were now cradling him in a comforting embrace as he was drawn against a hard chest. "He was in town for a few days and he needed a place to stay. I was going to be going away--to think over some decisions that had to be made." Toby burrowed his face into the warm shoulder. He felt so safe in these arms. "It was perfect; he'd have a nice place to stay , while he would watch this place and take out the dog." Toby laughed derisively, "I thought I was doing him a favor!"
"His name is--was Nikolai Stanislofski. He was the quintessential hippy--he never learned to drive a car and he hated technology-- especially cell phones. He has this great girlfriend, who adores him. And now, thanks to me, he's dead." Toby couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. Chris pulled him close and stroked his back, trying to offer what comfort that he could to the grief-stricken man.
Toby had finally stopped sobbing, but he was shivering with cold. Chris laid a hand on his cheek--his skin felt cold and clammy. Shock. He wasn't surprised, the news had been a lot to take in even though he had tried to break it to him gently. Chris had never learned to feel comfortable with death; it always seemed so senseless to him. Leo was always telling him that he needed to learn to be more tactful; he was suddenly aware of this deficiency in his interpersonal skills when he tried to comfort this sensitive and dear man.
Chris ushered Toby over to the living room, where he pulled him onto his lap on the couch. The blanket that he had used when he fell asleep was folded beside him on the cushion. Chris unfolded the fleece blanket and wrapped Toby into it, trying to keep the man warm. He stroked the fingers of his right hand through silky blond hair as his left arm held the man against his chest--close to his heart.
After a short while, Toby seemed to have fallen asleep--his eyes were closed but his breathing pattern wasn't even. "Baby?" Chris asked hesitantly. Chris bit his lip, before he proceeded with the question that he dreaded asking this sensitive man, who had already been through so much. But it was his job and there were no exceptions.
Toby's head turned and blue eyes looked up at him acknowledging his inquiry. "If that was your friend, here. Where were you and why didn't you hear the news reports? You were the top story, you know--- you and some cleaning woman, who claims that she saw Elvis' ghost in the Gracie Mansion."
"I was up at my cabin. I use it as a retreat to get away from everything, and I left my cell phone in the van--where it still is, actually. There is a radio up there, but it must have been broken because it wouldn't work."
"I hate to sound like a cop, but--was there anyone else there with you?"
"Yes, I have a WITNESS. My...employee...I guess I could call him. Jazz Hoyt. He insists on going everywhere with me. He seems to think that I need a keeper, or something. He was with me for the whole trip and he dropped me off here last night."
Chris wanted to get all of this awkwardness out of the way. The police would check up on the story but he was confident that Toby wasn't lying to him--he'd know. He had wanted to be the one to question Toby--the idea of leaving Toby alone with that horse's ass, Metzger, disturbed him.
Now he needed to get Toby out of this funk that he was sinking into. His memory brought up an image of a pill bottle--maybe later, but for now he'd employ other methods. He used his large, warm hands to cup the face and draw it to his lips. The kisses were soft and sweet. Toby sighed as he wrapped his arms around Chris' neck, and opened his lips. Chris accepted the invitation as he gently sucked on Toby's tongue, relishing the taste of this man.
After several minutes of bliss, Chris drew his lips away and began to kiss along Toby's temple. His eyebrow. His sweetly curved nose. "Babe?" A moan was Toby's response, but it was enough.
"How many times did you look for me in the park?"
Toby was preoccupied with the soft lips that were still kissing his neck. He tilted his head, giving Chris more access, while his mind processed the question.
"WHAT?!" Toby shook his head in bemusement. "What the---how did you know about the pa----you read my journals, you sneaky son of a bitch!" Toby leaped off Chris's lap and stood in front of him. Instead of shaking with grief, he was shaking with fury. "You know 'my thoughts, my fears.' That wasn't just a casual remark--you really do KNOW!"
Blue eyes glared down at the detective. Chris had trouble restraining his arms, which longed to grab the enraged man and kiss him senseless. //Thoughtful Toby is provocative. Romantic Toby is sensual beyond belief, but this Toby--whose eyes are shooting blue fire as beads of sweat glistened off that silky skin, is fuckin' irresistible. Probably shouldn't mention that, cause he looks pissed. Good, that's better than depressed.//
"I was doing my job, investigating a crime. I needed to read those books, they're part of the evidence that will help us solve this case." This is how he will look when we make love, Chris reasoned as he watched Toby place his hands on his waist and expell an exasperated breath.
"Is it part of your job to use my toothbrush? Is it part of the job to sleep in my bed? Next you'll tell me that wearing my underwear is part of the job!" Toby paused to gaze speculatively toward Chris's borrowed sweat pants. "You aren't...are you?"
//Shit, he must have made one hell of a trial lawyer!//
"I am wearing my own BVDs." Chris couldn't restrain the wolfish grin that spread across his face as he tilted his head speculatively. "Want to inspect--just to be sure?" he asked hopefully.
Toby's temper tantrum ceased as abruptly as it had appeared, to be replaced with embarrassment. "NO--I'll take your word for it." Toby winced and his right hand began to rub his lower back.
"Are you all right?" Eyes as blue as a stormy sea were full of concern, but Toby couldn't accept their silent offer of more comfort. His heart was racing and his mind just couldn't seem to cope with all the revelations that it had heard. He needed to be alone, to evaluate everything that he'd heard. It had been his method for so long that he couldn't accept the entreaty in the loving eyes.
He was embarrassed that Chris had read the journals; they contained many secrets and private thoughts that he had never shared with anyone, until now. He knew intellectually that Chris had revealed this fact because he didn't want to have an advantage over him, or a secret that could destroy their budding attraction.
"I think I'm going to grab a shower. When dad hears the news, he'll be racing over here, probably breaking the speed limit."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Chris quipped to lighten the mood. "Forget the shower. Get some more sleep while you still can; it'll be a long day."
Go to next part.