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drsquidloveSomeone Like You
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
(Chapter 7 already? Wow, this is going fast.)
Wordcount this post: 4086
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 7: Ian Tate
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 6, Rage:
Toby was woken in the night by Elliot, bubbling with rage and more like Chris than he'd ever been, horrified that he'd scared Lizzie with his temper. Elliot told Olivia that he befriended Toby, and she got Elliot wondering about the nature of Toby's interest, which led to an awkward conversation over pizza, in which Toby assured Elliot he wasn't hoping for sex, and Elliot assured Toby that he wasn't a homophobe. After a day in hospital with a severely traumatised girl, Elliot welcomed a chance to escape to join Toby and Holly for the evening.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Hi, Holly."
"Hello, Elliot. Come in." She stepped aside and gestured a welcome, with a polite smile and serious eyes.
Elliot squashed the memory of the quivering girl he'd left in the hospital. "How are you?"
"I'm very well, thank you. And you?"
"I'm fine." His kids would have been hollering for whoever owned the guest to come to the door. Holly reached for his coat as he shrugged it off, and hung it up on a hook. He wondered if her manners came from living the only child life, or being raised by her rich grandmother. Maybe she was just nervous about cops who'd once threatened to arrest her father.
"Dad's in the kitchen." She pointed towards the room with the sounds and smells of cooking. Please excuse me, I have to finish my homework."
"Thanks, Holly."
He put his things on the table and glanced around. So this was where Toby lived. It was more modest than Elliot had expected, neat but lived-in, definitely male in the furnishings but there were bottles of nail polish by the couch and a stack of DVDs that looked like they could have been borrowed from Lizzie's collection. There were three ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, a few children's books mixed in.
On the wall there were recent photos of Toby and Holly hugging each other and sharing cheesy grins, a couple of them posed more formally with a younger boy who had to be Harry. He had tanned skin, dark hair and eyes, nothing like either of them. There were some of extended family. And some from years past. Elliot was just moving in for a better look when Toby called, "In here, Elliot."
He'd have to snoop some other time. "Hey To-" He stopped in the doorway. "I'm sorry. If I'd known this was a special occasion..."
Toby wiped his floury hands on a towel, looking confused. "No occasion." His cheeks were rosy and the steam was making his hair fall in wet curls, his loose charcoal polo shirt cling to his body. He was surrounded by dirty bowls and simmering pots, the sort of chaos Elliot used to expect for big events for his family of six.
He looked at the colander sitting by the sink. "Is that gnocchi?"
"Yes."
Elliot looked at the flour scattered over the counter. "From scratch?"
"You haven't had gnocchi if you've only had the store-bought stuff."
"I had it in a restaurant once."
"Mine's better."
"I'm sure." Elliot moved in and lifted a couple of lids. There was tomato sauce and pink shrimp. It smelled really good.
Toby stirred the sauce and then gave Elliot his full attention. "Did you want to talk? Holly studies with her music on, so..."
"Nah. Maybe later." He was too keyed up to get started on the little girl in the hospital now, and he already felt like a jerk for stomping into Toby's home in this mood.
There were a couple of school notices and a coloured pencil drawing of jellyfish stuck to the fridge - Holly's presumably, but pretty good for an eleven year-old. Elliot fetched bowls and utensils when Toby asked, got a peek inside cupboards with every tool you could imagine for gourmet cooking but only four dinner plates.
"You sure I'm not interrupting something? After the divorce I expanded my culinary skills into making spaghetti with sauce from a jar, and buying a book on different ways to cook vegetables. I didn't start making gnocchi from scratch."
Toby turned back to the stove to take the lid off the sauce. "Yeah, well, you spend eight years eating mystery meat and industrial-boiled vegetables, and see if you change your tune. First thing I did when I got out of prison was start learning how to cook." He tipped in the gnocchi and shrimp and stirred them though. "Once we moved out of my mother's, Holly and I got to going through recipe books, figuring it out together. I've got the touch with the baked dinners, but she makes an angel food cake that'll bring tears to your eyes, and she can de-bone a fish like a master chef. This is almost ready. Make yourself comfortable."
Elliot stripped off his tie and popped a couple of buttons, but he was still wearing his gun so he left his jacket on.
Toby bustled around pulling everything together, filling bowls he'd heated in the oven, directing Elliot where to grab silverware for the table. He seemed happy in here: the juggling act of preparing food, the satisfaction of making something Holly would like. It was nice to watch.
It was all laid out before he called Holly to eat. She wandered out and snatched up a dumpling with her fingers, nodding in approval. "Tastes good, Dad."
"How's your homework going?"
"Done. Did you find the rosemary?"
"It was behind the cheese box. You got the math figured out?"
"It was in the other book."
They took their seats and passed around the pepper and cheese, and Elliot finally tasted his dinner. "Wow."
Toby smiled, and passed him the garlic bread.
The meal was more comfortable than Elliot expected. It took a while for Holly to get talking, but the conversation between her and Toby was equal parts teasing and caring, and once she was comfortable she chatted to Elliot like an eleven year-old who'd spent too much time with adults and not enough with kids her own age.
Holly mentioned her Uncle Angus, so Elliot found out Toby had a brother. Who was also a lawyer. They were a whole family of lawyers. Elliot asked Holly if she was going to be a lawyer, too. She wrinkled her nose. "No. I'd rather help people." Toby huffed, and Elliot grinned.
When Toby excused himself for the bathroom, she turned awkward again. Elliot was trying to think of something to ask her when she said, "Dad said you find people who hurt kids."
"That's right." Even if he couldn't always do something about it.
She picked at her fingernails. "That must be sad."
Elliot nodded. Not many kids had that kind of insight. "Yeah. It is."
"Do you find kids who've been kidnapped?"
"Sometimes. We found a little girl today." He shouldn't have said that, but Dee had been in the back of his mind all evening. He watched Holly carefully, but she seemed to take it in stride.
"Is she okay?"
Not even a little bit. He could still feel where her small fingers had dug into his. "She's scared." He wanted to call, get an update, but someone would have contacted him if there was any serious change.
Holly nodded like that made sense. "How long was she gone?"
"All night."
"That's not so long."
Not so long. It was a long time if the man who had you was hurting you. Wondering if he was stepping into forbidden territory, Elliot asked, "How long were you gone?"
"Fourteen days."
Hell. Only years of practice kept Elliot's face and tone neutral. For some reason he'd thought it was a couple of days. "That's a long time."
She glanced towards the hallway where Toby had disappeared. "Not as long as Dad was gone."
Elliot had never dug for details on Holly's kidnap. He didn't know if she'd been hurt, or starved, or bound. If she and Gary had been left alone in a basement somewhere or held by the guy who took them. Fourteen days. Toby must have been out of his mind.
He looked at Holly, who was staring at him through wide blue eyes just like her father's. "Are you okay?"
She shrugged. "I'm okay." Had she drawn pictures of a monster for her investigating detectives? If Dee ever managed to be this close to okay, Elliot could live with it.
Elliot was playing with the game tiles, rearranging words when Toby came out from saying goodnight to Holly. "Think I can get a refund from Harvard on my law degree?"
Elliot blinked. Toby was wearing glasses. He offered up a grin. "I'm not just a dumb cop."
Toby's hand squeezed his shoulder, right by his neck. It felt good. "I never thought that."
Elliot had forgotten Toby wore glasses. He'd noticed the contacts, never thought too much about it. He looked different in wire-rims. Geeky. It was a good look on Toby.
Toby smiled, and gestured at his face. "Yeah, I know. I've learned not to wait until I'm cross-eyed tired to take the contacts out. I'm going to get a glass of water. Can I get you anything?"
"Nah, I'm fine."
Elliot spelled out 'recidivist' as that hand drifted away. Holly was great. Sweet and funny. Word-smart, which wasn't a surprise for a kid who felt safer with books than people. She'd given Elliot a run for his money while Toby was floundering. Typical lawyer: too busy dragging around big words to win rounds with small ones.
Holly adored her dad. How did Toby pull that off, with eight years gone? Elliot struggled to hold on with his living ten minutes away.
Toby put down his glass and slid into his seat. "So do you want to tell me what happened today?"
Elliot huffed. He'd actually let it go, for a while there. He looked up, saw the bright focus in Toby's eyes, ready and willing to listen. "I don't like lawyers."
"It's a common complaint."
"I don't know how some of them sleep at night." The perps Elliot understood, but the lawyers... Kressler had Hinton on the streets before Dee managed to let go of Elliot's hand. "Sometimes after I spend a few hours interrogating one of these scumbags, I have trouble looking my kids in the eye. How does anyone fight to get somebody like that off on a technicality, and then go home to their family?"
Toby looked away, silent, and Elliot kicked himself.
"I'm not talking about your accident, Toby. I'm talking about serial killers. Rapists."
"I know." Toby looked even more uncomfortable, but harping the point probably wouldn't help. Maybe Toby was thinking about the lawyer who set Holly's kidnapper free.
It didn't matter anymore; the afternoon's rage was gone, Dee was going to need him tomorrow, and thinking about it now just made him feel tired. "I don't want to rehash it."
"You sure?"
He waved a tile. "This was just what I needed tonight. Thanks."
"Okay."
They cleaned up the game and gravitated towards the kitchen. Toby waved off Elliot's offer to help as he loaded the dishwasher and wiped down, relaxed in a way Elliot never got to see in crowded restaurants. In short sleeves Elliot could see Toby's toned body, a sharp contrast to the geeky glasses and hair cut. He obviously still worked out. Elliot wondered if Toby had always been that way, or if it was a habit he'd picked up in prison. Elliot wondered how Toby had reacted when some anonymous cop told him his kids were missing.
"How are your kids doing?"
"Fine. Kathleen's dating an idiot."
Toby grinned. "Could be worse. She could be dating a law student."
"Not as long as I've got a gun." He rubbed a hand through his hair. "I know you're not supposed to turn this stuff into a battle, but Kathy and I started way too young. Every time she mentions a guy, my knuckles go white."
"It sounds like your kids turned out pretty well."
Elliot shook his head. "I love 'em to death, wouldn't change them for the world, but I don't want their lives to be as hard as ours were."
Toby squeezed the sponge dry and turned to lean back on the sink. "I worry Holly won't date idiots. I worry she won't take risks. She can't spend her life hiding in books and protecting me."
"She's only eleven. She'll hit the teens soon, and I promise she'll be sneaking around behind your back and doing her best to turn your hair white."
Toby smiled. "I can hope."
"There may even be piercings."
He chuckled. "I can't wait."
Elliot paused, cocked his head. "I could almost believe you're serious."
"I am. Look, I'm not saying part of me doesn't want to drag her into the house and board the doors, but I don't want her to live like that. Prison sucked; I'm not going to let myself build one for her."
Was that what Toby thought Elliot was doing with his kids? When Kathy said things like that, Elliot told her she didn't know how many terrible people were out there. He couldn't say that to Toby.
Toby closed the last cupboard door.
Elliot checked the time. "I should get going. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Toby came closer. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Some cases get to you more than others. This was what I needed tonight, thank you." If Dee's aunt could do half as well as Toby and his parents, she'd be okay. He hoped.
"Any time."
"And thanks for dinner. It was amazing. I never eat like that."
"You'll have to come over again. Holly's getting jaded by the gourmet cooking, keeps begging me for chicken nuggets. I've told her no way, no how, are those fucking things coming through my door."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby cracked the door just far enough to let the light fall across Holly's curled body. The one thing in the world he'd somehow failed to fuck up was his relationship with her. God knew he didn't deserve her loyalty, but he had it anyway. It was a scary burden to carry.
He understood Elliot's wish to keep his children safe at all costs, to hold onto their childhood as long as possible, but that's where Gary was: locked at eight years old for eternity. He was never going to cheat on a test or sneak behind the gym to smoke pot or hand his heart over to someone who'd break it.
It was one of the questions that plagued him most: would he want her to have a lover like Chris? Toby wanted Holly to know a love that fierce, to feel the passion of someone who would sacrifice everything for her. But the idea of that much pain... Could you have one without the other?
The nervous affection Toby felt for Chris the first time they kissed wasn't even comparable to the terrifying love he felt after he'd dragged his heart through hell, when he offered it up, broken. When they came together in the new years' lockdown, Chris had seeped through every crack, every scratch, and into his bones. Some days Toby worried Holly would find someone who would consume her like that. Some days he worried she wouldn't.
A father was supposed to hope his daughter married someone stable and hardworking and protective. Responsible. Someone like Elliot.
Toby hoped she found something more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Casey was there as Elliot came through the door. "How's Dee doing?"
Elliot threw the manila folder on his desk and sprawled in his chair. "She's talking a little." He glanced up at Casey and flipped the folder open. "Tell me you can get these admitted."
Casey picked up one picture after another, lips growing thinner with each one. "I'll try. What did she tell you?"
"The nightmares woke her up, so she stayed awake all night, drawing these for me." Elliot put his finger on a jagged black stick figure. "That's Hinton." He dug through, found the one where he was unmistakeably holding an axe, glanced up to check Casey saw it too. She did. "That's her mom. Her dad. Her brother."
"Do you think she'll be able to talk a jury through them?"
"I don't know." It wasn't lunch yet, and Elliot was exhausted. Every word had been dragged out of her, and her aunt was starting to get protective. He wasn't sure she was wrong to push Elliot out of there. They were building a pretty decent case but that wasn't going to do much for Dee. "Where's Hinton now?"
"Central booking. At least he's back in custody."
Elliot wished he could have interrogated the son of a bitch, though there was a good chance it would have got him drummed out of the force. "I want that scumbag to fry." The words burst out of him, and he caught himself searching his desk for something heavy to throw. Something that would break glass or crack a wall, let out a little of this pressure.
Casey stared at the pictures, looked at Elliot and narrowed her eyes. "We'll get him, Elliot."
She headed back to her office, and Elliot dug his fingers into his knees as Cragen wandered over. "Where's Liv?"
"She's tracking down witnesses with Munch." Cragen reached for one of the drawings, looked it over and put it back. "Elliot. There's someone here to see you."
Elliot closed his eyes. He was done with people right now. "Who is it?"
"Wouldn't give his name, but he looks damned familiar."
Elliot's skin prickled. Not Toby. Toby wouldn't come here, surely. He was ashamed for thinking it, but he didn't want to hear what Cragen or anyone else thought of Elliot befriending their Franco's witness.
He dumped his pen and turned to see the person Cragen was pointing at coming down the stairs from the lounge. He knew who it was the instant he laid eyes on him. Older now, but there was no mistake. "Ian Tate."
Tate looked surprised, "You remember me."
"Yeah. I remember you." He'd put on a little weight, got a better haircut, but his was one of the faces Elliot had never forgotten. "What's up?" Elliot prayed it wasn't another disaster in the kid's life.
"Nothing."
Elliot raised his eyebrows.
"Really. I just..." He looked around, uncomfortable. There couldn't have been any good memories for him in this place.
"Is this official business?"
"No."
Then they had an out. "Look, I'm due for a break. There's a coffee stand right outside - you want to come down, grab a cup?"
"Sure."
Elliot met Cragen's eyes as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. Cragen didn't actually look disapproving, which was as good as a blessing. Elliot wondered if he'd made the connection yet, or if he was headed to his office to run a search on the name.
Ian Tate, gay son of famed anti-homosexual researcher Dr Roger Tate, a not-so-loving father who murdered Ian's boyfriend. Roger Tate was doing twenty-to-life in Rikers thanks to the 16th Precinct.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot sprung for both of them, and then led Tate over to a quiet spot by the wall of the station house, out of the wind. March had chased away the worst of the winter chill, thank god, but there wasn't much sign of spring yet. "What can I do for you?"
"It's not," he started, and stopped. "Now this just seems stupid."
"Just tell me what you've got to say."
"I'm all right." He shrugged, with an awkward smile.
"Okay..."
"Told you it was stupid."
Elliot sipped his coffee, hoping Tate was going to get to his point soon.
"I've been trying to work up the courage for this for a couple of weeks. Wasn't sure you'd care. Didn't really think you'd remember me."
"I do."
"I was driving past the other week, and I thought of this place and everything that happened, and I wanted to let you know that things worked out for me. I'm with an organisation that helps gay kids from religious families. I'm dating a good guy. I even visit my dad in Riker's sometimes."
"That's great." Why was he telling Elliot this?
"I guess not a lot of ex-suspects check in two years later to thank you."
"Not a lot."
"I just... I was thinking you guys see a lot of screwed up people, but you probably don't get to see what happens to them unless things get bad again. I figured you should know sometimes people turn out all right."
The pieces fell into place."I wasn't the only one on that case." But maybe Elliot was the only one who'd mentioned the case to a friend, a few weeks ago.
"I know. I wrote a letter to Casey Novak a while back, but maybe you could tell everyone else up there? Just tell them thanks. What you guys did... making me face who I am, who my dad is... I'm glad you did."
"So nobody sent you here?"
A slight smile tugged at the kid's mouth. "Didn't your ADA ever tell you to be careful what questions you asked?"
Yeah, she told him that all the time. Elliot wanted to kick Toby's ass for traipsing over his work, but first he needed to know: "Are you really all right?"
Tate gave a little snort. "I'm not saying it doesn't stick with me. I miss James all the time. But I don't hate myself anymore. My dad doesn't get to define me. I'm happy."
"That's... good."
"I know this is weird, me just showing up. But seriously - I need to thank you. You guys gave me a second chance, a whole new life." He offered his hand to shake. "Thank you."
Elliot didn't know what it was that got through: the outstretched hand, the look, or just hearing a thank you that he didn't hear too often in his line of work. Sometimes it came from victims, grasping for any scrap of kindness or human decency, but never from anyone who came looking for him two years later to tell him there was a happy ending.
They shook, and Tate walked away, and Elliot took his time finishing his coffee.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot dug through their files on Hinton with a whole new vigour, cross-checking every credit card charge, every phone call, every associate he had. They were going to get this bastard for Dee. Olivia came back and they pooled their information. The rest of the day was a whirl of interviews, a quick visit with Dee, who actually smiled when she saw him, and a little time left over to trawl through Hinton's financials as the clock ticked towards five-thirty.
Olivia sat back, watching him. Elliot pretended not to notice as he made a note to check into this payment to Chappaqua Auto Body.
"You seem a lot better today."
"You were right. I needed a night off." He was going to take another one tonight. He swept a couple of pens into his top drawer, tidied away everything he wasn't working on. As soon as the clock ticked over, he was out of here, and on his way to drop in on Toby. Olivia's patient stare finally pulled his head up "Dee's going to be okay."
Liv's lips thinned. "I hope so."
"She will. She's strong, and her aunt cares. We'll interview the guys from the bakery tomorrow, and find out why he needed his car repaired, and we're going to hand Casey a case that a monkey couldn't lose."
"Somebody's been eating his Wheaties."
Elliot leaned on his elbows. "Do you remember Ian Tate? His homophobic father murdered his lover? Tate almost took the fall?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"I had coffee with him this morning."
"First Beecher, now Tate?"
Elliot ignored the tease. "He just stopped in to say he was doing all right. He's got a job, a life, a boyfriend. He's happy being out of the closet, at peace with himself." And Holly Beecher was a little shy, prone to nightmares, but a smart, happy kid. "I don't always know what we're going here, but today I've got a pretty good idea." And now it was five-thirty. Elliot dropped the file in his drawer and stood, hesitating when he saw the way Olivia was looking at him now. "Do you need me to do anything else?
"No, I'm just finishing up this report. I was going to ask if you wanted to get some dinner since you're in such a good mood, but it looks like you've got plans."
Yes, Elliot had plans, but Olivia was looking at him like she suspected he had a date, so he wasn't going to tempt her to ask. He had to find Toby and ask what the hell he was doing, digging into Elliot's old cases. And then thank him for it. It was maybe a little weird, just how much Elliot was looking forward to seeing him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 7
Dr Squidlove inappropriately touches all feedback. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
(Chapter 7 already? Wow, this is going fast.)
Wordcount this post: 4086
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 7: Ian Tate
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 6, Rage:
Toby was woken in the night by Elliot, bubbling with rage and more like Chris than he'd ever been, horrified that he'd scared Lizzie with his temper. Elliot told Olivia that he befriended Toby, and she got Elliot wondering about the nature of Toby's interest, which led to an awkward conversation over pizza, in which Toby assured Elliot he wasn't hoping for sex, and Elliot assured Toby that he wasn't a homophobe. After a day in hospital with a severely traumatised girl, Elliot welcomed a chance to escape to join Toby and Holly for the evening.
"Hi, Holly."
"Hello, Elliot. Come in." She stepped aside and gestured a welcome, with a polite smile and serious eyes.
Elliot squashed the memory of the quivering girl he'd left in the hospital. "How are you?"
"I'm very well, thank you. And you?"
"I'm fine." His kids would have been hollering for whoever owned the guest to come to the door. Holly reached for his coat as he shrugged it off, and hung it up on a hook. He wondered if her manners came from living the only child life, or being raised by her rich grandmother. Maybe she was just nervous about cops who'd once threatened to arrest her father.
"Dad's in the kitchen." She pointed towards the room with the sounds and smells of cooking. Please excuse me, I have to finish my homework."
"Thanks, Holly."
He put his things on the table and glanced around. So this was where Toby lived. It was more modest than Elliot had expected, neat but lived-in, definitely male in the furnishings but there were bottles of nail polish by the couch and a stack of DVDs that looked like they could have been borrowed from Lizzie's collection. There were three ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, a few children's books mixed in.
On the wall there were recent photos of Toby and Holly hugging each other and sharing cheesy grins, a couple of them posed more formally with a younger boy who had to be Harry. He had tanned skin, dark hair and eyes, nothing like either of them. There were some of extended family. And some from years past. Elliot was just moving in for a better look when Toby called, "In here, Elliot."
He'd have to snoop some other time. "Hey To-" He stopped in the doorway. "I'm sorry. If I'd known this was a special occasion..."
Toby wiped his floury hands on a towel, looking confused. "No occasion." His cheeks were rosy and the steam was making his hair fall in wet curls, his loose charcoal polo shirt cling to his body. He was surrounded by dirty bowls and simmering pots, the sort of chaos Elliot used to expect for big events for his family of six.
He looked at the colander sitting by the sink. "Is that gnocchi?"
"Yes."
Elliot looked at the flour scattered over the counter. "From scratch?"
"You haven't had gnocchi if you've only had the store-bought stuff."
"I had it in a restaurant once."
"Mine's better."
"I'm sure." Elliot moved in and lifted a couple of lids. There was tomato sauce and pink shrimp. It smelled really good.
Toby stirred the sauce and then gave Elliot his full attention. "Did you want to talk? Holly studies with her music on, so..."
"Nah. Maybe later." He was too keyed up to get started on the little girl in the hospital now, and he already felt like a jerk for stomping into Toby's home in this mood.
There were a couple of school notices and a coloured pencil drawing of jellyfish stuck to the fridge - Holly's presumably, but pretty good for an eleven year-old. Elliot fetched bowls and utensils when Toby asked, got a peek inside cupboards with every tool you could imagine for gourmet cooking but only four dinner plates.
"You sure I'm not interrupting something? After the divorce I expanded my culinary skills into making spaghetti with sauce from a jar, and buying a book on different ways to cook vegetables. I didn't start making gnocchi from scratch."
Toby turned back to the stove to take the lid off the sauce. "Yeah, well, you spend eight years eating mystery meat and industrial-boiled vegetables, and see if you change your tune. First thing I did when I got out of prison was start learning how to cook." He tipped in the gnocchi and shrimp and stirred them though. "Once we moved out of my mother's, Holly and I got to going through recipe books, figuring it out together. I've got the touch with the baked dinners, but she makes an angel food cake that'll bring tears to your eyes, and she can de-bone a fish like a master chef. This is almost ready. Make yourself comfortable."
Elliot stripped off his tie and popped a couple of buttons, but he was still wearing his gun so he left his jacket on.
Toby bustled around pulling everything together, filling bowls he'd heated in the oven, directing Elliot where to grab silverware for the table. He seemed happy in here: the juggling act of preparing food, the satisfaction of making something Holly would like. It was nice to watch.
It was all laid out before he called Holly to eat. She wandered out and snatched up a dumpling with her fingers, nodding in approval. "Tastes good, Dad."
"How's your homework going?"
"Done. Did you find the rosemary?"
"It was behind the cheese box. You got the math figured out?"
"It was in the other book."
They took their seats and passed around the pepper and cheese, and Elliot finally tasted his dinner. "Wow."
Toby smiled, and passed him the garlic bread.
The meal was more comfortable than Elliot expected. It took a while for Holly to get talking, but the conversation between her and Toby was equal parts teasing and caring, and once she was comfortable she chatted to Elliot like an eleven year-old who'd spent too much time with adults and not enough with kids her own age.
Holly mentioned her Uncle Angus, so Elliot found out Toby had a brother. Who was also a lawyer. They were a whole family of lawyers. Elliot asked Holly if she was going to be a lawyer, too. She wrinkled her nose. "No. I'd rather help people." Toby huffed, and Elliot grinned.
When Toby excused himself for the bathroom, she turned awkward again. Elliot was trying to think of something to ask her when she said, "Dad said you find people who hurt kids."
"That's right." Even if he couldn't always do something about it.
She picked at her fingernails. "That must be sad."
Elliot nodded. Not many kids had that kind of insight. "Yeah. It is."
"Do you find kids who've been kidnapped?"
"Sometimes. We found a little girl today." He shouldn't have said that, but Dee had been in the back of his mind all evening. He watched Holly carefully, but she seemed to take it in stride.
"Is she okay?"
Not even a little bit. He could still feel where her small fingers had dug into his. "She's scared." He wanted to call, get an update, but someone would have contacted him if there was any serious change.
Holly nodded like that made sense. "How long was she gone?"
"All night."
"That's not so long."
Not so long. It was a long time if the man who had you was hurting you. Wondering if he was stepping into forbidden territory, Elliot asked, "How long were you gone?"
"Fourteen days."
Hell. Only years of practice kept Elliot's face and tone neutral. For some reason he'd thought it was a couple of days. "That's a long time."
She glanced towards the hallway where Toby had disappeared. "Not as long as Dad was gone."
Elliot had never dug for details on Holly's kidnap. He didn't know if she'd been hurt, or starved, or bound. If she and Gary had been left alone in a basement somewhere or held by the guy who took them. Fourteen days. Toby must have been out of his mind.
He looked at Holly, who was staring at him through wide blue eyes just like her father's. "Are you okay?"
She shrugged. "I'm okay." Had she drawn pictures of a monster for her investigating detectives? If Dee ever managed to be this close to okay, Elliot could live with it.
Elliot was playing with the game tiles, rearranging words when Toby came out from saying goodnight to Holly. "Think I can get a refund from Harvard on my law degree?"
Elliot blinked. Toby was wearing glasses. He offered up a grin. "I'm not just a dumb cop."
Toby's hand squeezed his shoulder, right by his neck. It felt good. "I never thought that."
Elliot had forgotten Toby wore glasses. He'd noticed the contacts, never thought too much about it. He looked different in wire-rims. Geeky. It was a good look on Toby.
Toby smiled, and gestured at his face. "Yeah, I know. I've learned not to wait until I'm cross-eyed tired to take the contacts out. I'm going to get a glass of water. Can I get you anything?"
"Nah, I'm fine."
Elliot spelled out 'recidivist' as that hand drifted away. Holly was great. Sweet and funny. Word-smart, which wasn't a surprise for a kid who felt safer with books than people. She'd given Elliot a run for his money while Toby was floundering. Typical lawyer: too busy dragging around big words to win rounds with small ones.
Holly adored her dad. How did Toby pull that off, with eight years gone? Elliot struggled to hold on with his living ten minutes away.
Toby put down his glass and slid into his seat. "So do you want to tell me what happened today?"
Elliot huffed. He'd actually let it go, for a while there. He looked up, saw the bright focus in Toby's eyes, ready and willing to listen. "I don't like lawyers."
"It's a common complaint."
"I don't know how some of them sleep at night." The perps Elliot understood, but the lawyers... Kressler had Hinton on the streets before Dee managed to let go of Elliot's hand. "Sometimes after I spend a few hours interrogating one of these scumbags, I have trouble looking my kids in the eye. How does anyone fight to get somebody like that off on a technicality, and then go home to their family?"
Toby looked away, silent, and Elliot kicked himself.
"I'm not talking about your accident, Toby. I'm talking about serial killers. Rapists."
"I know." Toby looked even more uncomfortable, but harping the point probably wouldn't help. Maybe Toby was thinking about the lawyer who set Holly's kidnapper free.
It didn't matter anymore; the afternoon's rage was gone, Dee was going to need him tomorrow, and thinking about it now just made him feel tired. "I don't want to rehash it."
"You sure?"
He waved a tile. "This was just what I needed tonight. Thanks."
"Okay."
They cleaned up the game and gravitated towards the kitchen. Toby waved off Elliot's offer to help as he loaded the dishwasher and wiped down, relaxed in a way Elliot never got to see in crowded restaurants. In short sleeves Elliot could see Toby's toned body, a sharp contrast to the geeky glasses and hair cut. He obviously still worked out. Elliot wondered if Toby had always been that way, or if it was a habit he'd picked up in prison. Elliot wondered how Toby had reacted when some anonymous cop told him his kids were missing.
"How are your kids doing?"
"Fine. Kathleen's dating an idiot."
Toby grinned. "Could be worse. She could be dating a law student."
"Not as long as I've got a gun." He rubbed a hand through his hair. "I know you're not supposed to turn this stuff into a battle, but Kathy and I started way too young. Every time she mentions a guy, my knuckles go white."
"It sounds like your kids turned out pretty well."
Elliot shook his head. "I love 'em to death, wouldn't change them for the world, but I don't want their lives to be as hard as ours were."
Toby squeezed the sponge dry and turned to lean back on the sink. "I worry Holly won't date idiots. I worry she won't take risks. She can't spend her life hiding in books and protecting me."
"She's only eleven. She'll hit the teens soon, and I promise she'll be sneaking around behind your back and doing her best to turn your hair white."
Toby smiled. "I can hope."
"There may even be piercings."
He chuckled. "I can't wait."
Elliot paused, cocked his head. "I could almost believe you're serious."
"I am. Look, I'm not saying part of me doesn't want to drag her into the house and board the doors, but I don't want her to live like that. Prison sucked; I'm not going to let myself build one for her."
Was that what Toby thought Elliot was doing with his kids? When Kathy said things like that, Elliot told her she didn't know how many terrible people were out there. He couldn't say that to Toby.
Toby closed the last cupboard door.
Elliot checked the time. "I should get going. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Toby came closer. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Some cases get to you more than others. This was what I needed tonight, thank you." If Dee's aunt could do half as well as Toby and his parents, she'd be okay. He hoped.
"Any time."
"And thanks for dinner. It was amazing. I never eat like that."
"You'll have to come over again. Holly's getting jaded by the gourmet cooking, keeps begging me for chicken nuggets. I've told her no way, no how, are those fucking things coming through my door."
Toby cracked the door just far enough to let the light fall across Holly's curled body. The one thing in the world he'd somehow failed to fuck up was his relationship with her. God knew he didn't deserve her loyalty, but he had it anyway. It was a scary burden to carry.
He understood Elliot's wish to keep his children safe at all costs, to hold onto their childhood as long as possible, but that's where Gary was: locked at eight years old for eternity. He was never going to cheat on a test or sneak behind the gym to smoke pot or hand his heart over to someone who'd break it.
It was one of the questions that plagued him most: would he want her to have a lover like Chris? Toby wanted Holly to know a love that fierce, to feel the passion of someone who would sacrifice everything for her. But the idea of that much pain... Could you have one without the other?
The nervous affection Toby felt for Chris the first time they kissed wasn't even comparable to the terrifying love he felt after he'd dragged his heart through hell, when he offered it up, broken. When they came together in the new years' lockdown, Chris had seeped through every crack, every scratch, and into his bones. Some days Toby worried Holly would find someone who would consume her like that. Some days he worried she wouldn't.
A father was supposed to hope his daughter married someone stable and hardworking and protective. Responsible. Someone like Elliot.
Toby hoped she found something more.
Casey was there as Elliot came through the door. "How's Dee doing?"
Elliot threw the manila folder on his desk and sprawled in his chair. "She's talking a little." He glanced up at Casey and flipped the folder open. "Tell me you can get these admitted."
Casey picked up one picture after another, lips growing thinner with each one. "I'll try. What did she tell you?"
"The nightmares woke her up, so she stayed awake all night, drawing these for me." Elliot put his finger on a jagged black stick figure. "That's Hinton." He dug through, found the one where he was unmistakeably holding an axe, glanced up to check Casey saw it too. She did. "That's her mom. Her dad. Her brother."
"Do you think she'll be able to talk a jury through them?"
"I don't know." It wasn't lunch yet, and Elliot was exhausted. Every word had been dragged out of her, and her aunt was starting to get protective. He wasn't sure she was wrong to push Elliot out of there. They were building a pretty decent case but that wasn't going to do much for Dee. "Where's Hinton now?"
"Central booking. At least he's back in custody."
Elliot wished he could have interrogated the son of a bitch, though there was a good chance it would have got him drummed out of the force. "I want that scumbag to fry." The words burst out of him, and he caught himself searching his desk for something heavy to throw. Something that would break glass or crack a wall, let out a little of this pressure.
Casey stared at the pictures, looked at Elliot and narrowed her eyes. "We'll get him, Elliot."
She headed back to her office, and Elliot dug his fingers into his knees as Cragen wandered over. "Where's Liv?"
"She's tracking down witnesses with Munch." Cragen reached for one of the drawings, looked it over and put it back. "Elliot. There's someone here to see you."
Elliot closed his eyes. He was done with people right now. "Who is it?"
"Wouldn't give his name, but he looks damned familiar."
Elliot's skin prickled. Not Toby. Toby wouldn't come here, surely. He was ashamed for thinking it, but he didn't want to hear what Cragen or anyone else thought of Elliot befriending their Franco's witness.
He dumped his pen and turned to see the person Cragen was pointing at coming down the stairs from the lounge. He knew who it was the instant he laid eyes on him. Older now, but there was no mistake. "Ian Tate."
Tate looked surprised, "You remember me."
"Yeah. I remember you." He'd put on a little weight, got a better haircut, but his was one of the faces Elliot had never forgotten. "What's up?" Elliot prayed it wasn't another disaster in the kid's life.
"Nothing."
Elliot raised his eyebrows.
"Really. I just..." He looked around, uncomfortable. There couldn't have been any good memories for him in this place.
"Is this official business?"
"No."
Then they had an out. "Look, I'm due for a break. There's a coffee stand right outside - you want to come down, grab a cup?"
"Sure."
Elliot met Cragen's eyes as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. Cragen didn't actually look disapproving, which was as good as a blessing. Elliot wondered if he'd made the connection yet, or if he was headed to his office to run a search on the name.
Ian Tate, gay son of famed anti-homosexual researcher Dr Roger Tate, a not-so-loving father who murdered Ian's boyfriend. Roger Tate was doing twenty-to-life in Rikers thanks to the 16th Precinct.
Elliot sprung for both of them, and then led Tate over to a quiet spot by the wall of the station house, out of the wind. March had chased away the worst of the winter chill, thank god, but there wasn't much sign of spring yet. "What can I do for you?"
"It's not," he started, and stopped. "Now this just seems stupid."
"Just tell me what you've got to say."
"I'm all right." He shrugged, with an awkward smile.
"Okay..."
"Told you it was stupid."
Elliot sipped his coffee, hoping Tate was going to get to his point soon.
"I've been trying to work up the courage for this for a couple of weeks. Wasn't sure you'd care. Didn't really think you'd remember me."
"I do."
"I was driving past the other week, and I thought of this place and everything that happened, and I wanted to let you know that things worked out for me. I'm with an organisation that helps gay kids from religious families. I'm dating a good guy. I even visit my dad in Riker's sometimes."
"That's great." Why was he telling Elliot this?
"I guess not a lot of ex-suspects check in two years later to thank you."
"Not a lot."
"I just... I was thinking you guys see a lot of screwed up people, but you probably don't get to see what happens to them unless things get bad again. I figured you should know sometimes people turn out all right."
The pieces fell into place."I wasn't the only one on that case." But maybe Elliot was the only one who'd mentioned the case to a friend, a few weeks ago.
"I know. I wrote a letter to Casey Novak a while back, but maybe you could tell everyone else up there? Just tell them thanks. What you guys did... making me face who I am, who my dad is... I'm glad you did."
"So nobody sent you here?"
A slight smile tugged at the kid's mouth. "Didn't your ADA ever tell you to be careful what questions you asked?"
Yeah, she told him that all the time. Elliot wanted to kick Toby's ass for traipsing over his work, but first he needed to know: "Are you really all right?"
Tate gave a little snort. "I'm not saying it doesn't stick with me. I miss James all the time. But I don't hate myself anymore. My dad doesn't get to define me. I'm happy."
"That's... good."
"I know this is weird, me just showing up. But seriously - I need to thank you. You guys gave me a second chance, a whole new life." He offered his hand to shake. "Thank you."
Elliot didn't know what it was that got through: the outstretched hand, the look, or just hearing a thank you that he didn't hear too often in his line of work. Sometimes it came from victims, grasping for any scrap of kindness or human decency, but never from anyone who came looking for him two years later to tell him there was a happy ending.
They shook, and Tate walked away, and Elliot took his time finishing his coffee.
Elliot dug through their files on Hinton with a whole new vigour, cross-checking every credit card charge, every phone call, every associate he had. They were going to get this bastard for Dee. Olivia came back and they pooled their information. The rest of the day was a whirl of interviews, a quick visit with Dee, who actually smiled when she saw him, and a little time left over to trawl through Hinton's financials as the clock ticked towards five-thirty.
Olivia sat back, watching him. Elliot pretended not to notice as he made a note to check into this payment to Chappaqua Auto Body.
"You seem a lot better today."
"You were right. I needed a night off." He was going to take another one tonight. He swept a couple of pens into his top drawer, tidied away everything he wasn't working on. As soon as the clock ticked over, he was out of here, and on his way to drop in on Toby. Olivia's patient stare finally pulled his head up "Dee's going to be okay."
Liv's lips thinned. "I hope so."
"She will. She's strong, and her aunt cares. We'll interview the guys from the bakery tomorrow, and find out why he needed his car repaired, and we're going to hand Casey a case that a monkey couldn't lose."
"Somebody's been eating his Wheaties."
Elliot leaned on his elbows. "Do you remember Ian Tate? His homophobic father murdered his lover? Tate almost took the fall?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"I had coffee with him this morning."
"First Beecher, now Tate?"
Elliot ignored the tease. "He just stopped in to say he was doing all right. He's got a job, a life, a boyfriend. He's happy being out of the closet, at peace with himself." And Holly Beecher was a little shy, prone to nightmares, but a smart, happy kid. "I don't always know what we're going here, but today I've got a pretty good idea." And now it was five-thirty. Elliot dropped the file in his drawer and stood, hesitating when he saw the way Olivia was looking at him now. "Do you need me to do anything else?
"No, I'm just finishing up this report. I was going to ask if you wanted to get some dinner since you're in such a good mood, but it looks like you've got plans."
Yes, Elliot had plans, but Olivia was looking at him like she suspected he had a date, so he wasn't going to tempt her to ask. He had to find Toby and ask what the hell he was doing, digging into Elliot's old cases. And then thank him for it. It was maybe a little weird, just how much Elliot was looking forward to seeing him.
end chapter 7
Dr Squidlove inappropriately touches all feedback. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-10-13 12:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-10-13 12:14 pm (UTC)Your comments make my week so much better!
Thanks, tobiasven!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-13 10:40 am (UTC)Especially loved this "Someone like Elliot.
Toby hoped she found something more.' So glad that Toby is finally seeing that Elliot isn't Chris.
And Toby knows just how to get to Elliot to stop him drowning in the job - loved that perceptiveness. And he wants to come around and make gnocchi from scratch for me, he'd be very welcome. ;)
no subject
Date: 2014-10-13 12:22 pm (UTC)The plan is gentle, gentle, gentle, STABYOUINTHEEYEBALL!!!
Or something like that...
Elliot is not cooperating with Toby's need for a Chris-clone. He's too damned stubborn.
A man who makes gnocchi, yes. I've made it from scratch twice: the first time was incredible, the second an abject failure.
This story degenerated into total food porn. I can't help myself. It's ridiculous. Toby and Elliot spend 60% of their time eating. If I was really being realistic, you couldn't expect them to be so trim and lithe by the final chapters.
Thanks, sparrow!
S.
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Date: 2014-10-13 12:33 pm (UTC)Food porn and pretty boys - It's a winning combination. :)
no subject
Date: 2014-10-13 02:20 pm (UTC)And yeah for Eliot having a good day. He needs them.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 10:32 am (UTC)Thanks mulder!
S.
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Date: 2014-10-13 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-10-14 11:24 pm (UTC)I love this!
no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 10:34 am (UTC)Give or take, give or take; I haven't actually cut it all up into chapters yet. But definitely lots.
Thanks sue! So happy you're reading!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 10:33 am (UTC)We'll see. We'll see...
Thanks!
S.
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Date: 2014-10-13 07:46 pm (UTC)This is a kinder gentler E, I keep waiting for him to punch Toby the stomach or something or is that in the coming attraction. This chapter is very domestic, Toby seems a better suited mate for E than his ex wife since he has knowledge and experience of the ugly side of E's job.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 10:43 am (UTC)lol. Elliot isn't *always* punching people in the stomach. There are whole seasons where his bad attitude is limited to snarking at the Captain. And other cops. And suspects, of course. And uncooperative witnesses. And Olivia...
I'm hoping to work in the full range of Elliot Stabler.
I wish, wish, wish we could have seen more of Elliot's home life. My biggest frustration with the show was that it dipped into their outside lives so rarely. Some seasons their marriage seemed strong, but Maureen makes a pokey comment early on about him not talking to Kathy. But then, how much do kids really know? But of course, that's what drives us to fanfic.
Thanks helvetica!
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-10-16 12:13 am (UTC)Really?? That's interesting. Kathleen irritated me, but I liked Maureen (love how she could get her contempt for Kathleen across in a single look) and I loved Kathy - she was absurdlypatient with Elliot's behaviour, but I totally bought them as long-term married.
But generally-speaking, I'm just not into straight police-procedural. I got sucked into watching SVU because of Oz, of course, and there's a lot that I did like, but I always prefer to watch shows that concentrate on the central characters, rather than the crime/mystery of the week.
Have we talked about this before? I feel like I remember this conversation. :-)
S.
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Date: 2014-10-13 11:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 10:46 am (UTC)Yay, thank you, iskra!
Yes yes, that naivety is just what I wanted. Thank you! The fun of writing Elliot through Toby's pov is that compared to Chris, Elliot's a fluffy puppy. Definitely some crossing of intentions, but we'll see if we can get there. Eventually.
S.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-15 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-10-16 01:35 pm (UTC)Thank you syndelar!
I'm a terribly late arrival to Oz, so I'm grateful the fandom is still simmering along.
I hope the story does pull off. Right now I'm trying to make chapters 11-13 run more sensibly, and Toby's not being cooperative.
S.