Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Prologue (1/1)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Sun, 29 Apr 2001 01:12:36 -0000


Title: Now and Then/Prologue
Fandom: SVU/Oz crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Elliot Stabler/Tobias Beecher
Author: Star
Rating: PG (minor violence and language)
Series: Now and Then 
Archive: SVU, SORT, C5, TS(WW).  Others?  Just email me first.
Notes: Betaed by Data, but all mistakes are solely my fault.
Disclaimers:  I don't own SVU, Oz, Elliot or Toby.  Damn it.
Feedback: Sure.  aostara@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None.  This is pure AU
Summary:  Elliot visits a sick friend; Toby comes to the rescue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001
------------
Elliot Stabler strode through the first-floor corridor of Benchley
Memorial with an ease born of repetition; far too many of his cases 
had led him here, forcing him to step delicately through one awkward
bedside interview after another.  Stopping at the information desk, 
he waited with thinly veiled impatience for the matronly volunteer 
to look up from her crossword puzzle.
 
"May I help you, young man?" she asked in a kindly voice, one well
suited to soothing the frazzled nerves of patients and visitors
alike.
 
Despite the anxiety gnawing at the pit of his stomach, Elliot
couldn't help smiling in response.  With his 40th birthday quickly
receding into the past, that form of address wasn't something he
heard very often, especially in his line of work.  "Yes, ma'am, I 
hope so.  Would you be able to put me in contact with Dr. Nathan?"
 
"I can page her to the desk.  Who shall I say is waiting?" she 
asked, laying aside her newspaper in favor of a computer keyboard.

"Detective Stabler, NYPD," he replied, breathing a sigh of relief 
when she didn't ask to see his identification.  For fifteen years 
Elliot's shield and weapon had been his constant companions and 
he felt naked and vulnerable without them, especially here at the
hospital.  Of course, emotionally charged situations outside of the
job had always had that effect on him -- he vividly remembered 
seeing 'The Wall' with Kathy when they were dating and empathizing 
with Pink -- and he'd faced far too many of them lately, culminating 
in last night's fiasco.  In addition to earning his first formal 
suspension, disappointing his captain and frightening his partner, 
he'd also alienated some damn fine homicide detectives, including 
his oldest friend, Sean Murphy.

Closing his eyes, Elliot's jaw tightened painfully as the previous 
evening replayed in his mind in a series of snapshots:  storming
out of the bar, Olivia hot on his heels; cajoling Sean into leaving 
him alone with the suspect his partner Mineo had collared that 
afternoon; slamming the kid up against the wall; blood flowing, 
staining the pale blue of his dress shirt a rusty brown.  And then 
Olivia had been there, pulling him away, her eyes wide with shock 
and fear.  Somewhere deep inside he'd known it was wrong, but last 
night that hadn't mattered.  Last night it was all about making sure 
that this particular junkie paid for what he'd done.  If he wanted 
to kill himself with drugs, that was one thing -- New York City would 
be better off without him -- but when he got behind the wheel.... 

Hanging his head, Elliot forced himself to stop that train of 
thought.  As Don Cragan had vociferously reminded him that morning,
he was a cop, not judge and jury, and he'd seriously overstepped
those bounds.  Stress from his recent divorce, burn-out from too
many years in SVU, shock stemming from the bombshell Cassidy had 
inadvertently dropped at the bar -- whatever the reason, he'd lost 
it.  Badly.  

"Elliot?"

Startled, he opened his eyes and forced himself to smile at the
petite Latina in the white coat peering up at him.  "Gloria," he
said, bending down to brush her cheek with a quick kiss.  "How
are you?"  He and Olivia had crossed paths professionally with 
the lovely young physician several times over the course of their 
investigations, but once she'd started dating the freshly-transferred-
from-SVU Brian Cassidy and joining them for after hours drinks at
O'Malleys, they'd quickly become friends.

Concern furrowing her brow, Gloria returned the kiss before replying.
"Fine.  But I feel like I should be asking you that.  What are you
doing here?  Where's Olivia?  She's okay, isn't she?"

"She's fine.  I'm here about one of your patients, actually.  
Tobias" // Toby // "Beecher."

"The case Brian and Sean are working on?  I thought Narcotics and
Homicide had that covered.  What's SVU's interest?"  

"None.  This is personal.  We, uh, were at NYU together."

Gloria raised an eyebrow.  "That was a long time ago."

// Another lifetime //  "Yeah, well, we bumped into each other a 
few years back and since his kids are about the same age as the 
twins and Katie...."  He trailed off, grimacing as he realized what 
he'd said.  "Anyway, how's he doing?"

"Elliot," she began, then paused to check her beeper.  "Damn.  
Listen, I've gotta get back upstairs.  Come on up with me.  His 
parents are here; I think it would be better if you talked to
them first.  Since you're not immediate family and you're not on 
the case, I really can't...."

Swallowing back an unexpected pang of hurt, Elliot nodded and
motioned for Gloria to lead the way.  "Sure.  I understand."

***

Fall, 1982

The party was already in full swing when Toby arrived, due in no
small part to a lengthy after-dinner discussion with Kareem Said.
Not that it hadn't been worth it, he reflected, smiling and nodding
in response to the boisterous greetings of several of his already-
inebriated classmates.  On the contrary, he was grateful that -- 
unlike the previous fall -- Kareem was still speaking to him.  
Arriving at NYU as a freshman only to find that his closest high 
school friend had become a Black Muslim over the summer and wanted 
nothing to do with him had led to several long months of painful
memories he'd give just about anything to erase.

Nursing a ginger ale and shouting over the blaring dance music, he 
mingled for a while, then made his way toward the quieter room in 
the back of the co-op, nearly turning back when he heard the voice 
of his ex-pledge master -- author of many of those memories -- 
cutting through the din.  Mark Mack sounded angry -- a common enough 
occurance -- but also frustrated, and curiosity drove Toby to finish 
the short walk to the room.  He arrived just in time to see Mark grab 
the arm of a tall, muscular young man who was patently *not* one of 
Beta's new crop of pledges.  In fact, Toby would have pegged him for 
an upperclassman, except that he didn't look the least bit familiar.  
He had an ethnic look -- Italian, most likely, or maybe Jewish, 
either of which was enough to set Mark off -- with close-cropped 
dark hair and a deep tan that set off his piercing blue eyes.

"I told you," the stranger said, pulling his arm free, "to keep
your hands off me."  

Toby watched from the doorway as Mark turned to his frat brothers 
and laughed, then turned back and shoved the other man squarely
in the chest.  He saw a flash of white -- a cast on the darker man's 
left arm, he realized -- and then Mark fell back, blood flowing 
freely from an obviously broken nose.  Immediately several of his 
cohorts surrounded their ringleader's assailant, swinging wildly.
Without a moment's hesitation, Toby joined the fray, landing several 
solid punches before the residence assistants dragged everyone 
apart.  
Over the loud protests of the Greeks and the muffled groans of their
injured companion, Toby explained how Mark had provoked the fight 
and that he'd just stepped in to even the odds.  

As the story was corroborated by several witnesses and the still
belligerent frat members were escorted from the party, their would-be 
victim took the opportunity to study his unlikely rescuer.  Slim, 
blond and bookish, the other man was an entirely unexpected comrade 
in arms, but was apparently handy with his fists and more than 
willing to use them.  Suddenly realizing he was the subject of an 
intense sky-blue gaze, he smiled and held out his hand.  "Thanks, 
man.  I owe you one.  I'm Elliot Stabler."

"I didn't it for you," the blue-eyed blond spit out, ignoring his 
hand.  "I hate those Greek fucks."

Smile fading, Elliot shrugged.  "Well, whatever.  I still owe you.  
Let me buy you a drink at least," he replied, reaching into a 
nearby cooler.

"No thanks.  I try not to drink much during the term, especially 
on weeknights."

Glancing down at the beers he'd just grabbed, Elliot thought for a 
moment before trading them for another set of bottles.  Looking back
up, he held them out, grinning hopefully.  "How about a coke then?"

Surprised, Toby just stared at him for a moment.  Taking one of 
bottles, he couldn't help smiling in response.  "Thanks.  Tobias
Beecher.  Sorry about that; I guess I'm still a little wound up."

"No problem.  I know what that's like.  And you're probably right
about the beer; I have Introduction to Criminal Law first thing
in the morning and it's confusing enough *without* a hangover."

"Yeah.  I had that last semester; it was a real bitch."  Toby took 
a long drink, then asked, "So what was all that about anyway?"

Elliot turned his arm, showing Toby his USMC tattoo.  "Apparently
they don't like 'jarheads' at *their* university."

Toby sniffed.  "They don't like much.  Pricks.  So you're what?
First year?"

"Yeah, on a GI Bill.  Criminology.  You?"

"Second year.  Pre-law."

"Really?  Hey, I know I already owe you and everything," Elliot 
began, his smile brightening as Toby chuckled, "but do you think 
you could give some pointers?  That class is kicking my ass."

Toby shrugged.  "Sure, why not?  Gimme your number; we can grab
a pizza or something and get together this weekend."

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 1 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 1/2)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Wed, 02 May 2001 15:53:55 -0000


Title: Now and Then/Chapter 1
Fandom: SVU/Oz crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Elliot Stabler/Tobias Beecher
Author: Star
Rating: R (for language)
Series: Now and Then 
Archive:  SVU, SORT, C5, TS(WW).  Others?  Just email me first.
Notes: Betaed by Data, but all mistakes are solely my fault.
Disclaimers:  I don't own SVU, Oz, Elliot or Toby.  Damn it.
Feedback: Sure.  aostara@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None.  This is pure AU
Summary:  Elliot and Toby together again, x2.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001
------------

The elevator doors opened onto the main corridor of the sixth
floor and Elliot followed Gloria out into the subdued bustle of
the neurological unit.  Halfway down the hall he saw two vaguely
familiar figures, both looking about ten years older than when he'd 
seen them briefly two Christmases ago.  He and Kathy had stopped 
by Toby and Gen's to drop off gifts and had just been leaving when 
Toby's parents arrived.  

"There they are," Gloria said.  "Mr. and Mrs. Beecher," she called
as they turned to enter one of the patient rooms.  They stopped 
and waited, tense smiles appearing as they recognized their son's 
physician.

"Dr. Nathan," Harrison Beecher greeted her, glancing curiously 
at the tall man accompanying her.

"I was hoping to catch you here.  This is Detective Stabler."

"Another detective?" Victoria asked, looking confused and nervous.

"Mr. and Mrs. Beecher," Elliot said quietly -- hospitals always had 
that effect on him -- "I'm not here on official business.  I don't 
know if you remember me, but I'm a friend of Toby's.  I would've 
come sooner, but I only heard last night."

"Oh, yes.  I thought your name sounded familiar.  Isn't your son 
in the same Boy Scout troupe as Gary..."  Victoria stopped abruptly, 
her voice breaking.  She leaned into her husband's embrace as Elliot 
nodded.

"I'm so sorry.  What your family's been through this year... I want 
you to know that if there's anything I can do...."

"We, uh, we heard that the police arrested the driver yesterday,"
Harrison said.  "That he's hardly more than a child himself."

Elliot shifted uncomfortably before replying.  "Yes.  Actually,
I'm friends with the Narcotics officer whose investigation led to
the arrest.  That's how I heard about Gary, and Toby's accident."

"Detective Stabler wanted the details of your son's condition, but 
I thought we should speak with you first," Gloria explained.

Victoria looked up at Elliot, searching his expression.  Looking
past the stoic exterior to the sincere worry in his eyes, she 
nodded.  "Of course.  Although I'm afraid you'll have to depend 
on Dr. Nathan for the medical particulars, Detective Stabler."

"Elliot, please.  Thank you." 

"Elliot Stabler," Harrison mused.  "You went to NYU with Toby,
didn't you?  Helped him out when his arm was broken during his
sophomore year?"

"Yes, sir.  I'm surprised you remember.  Would you mind if I...?"
he asked, gesturing to the room behind them, then turned to Gloria.
"He is allowed visitors, isn't he?"

Gloria glanced at the Beechers, who nodded.  "Yes.  Actually, I
think it would be a good idea for him to see another familiar face.  
He wakes occasionally, but he's still very disoriented.  He seems 
almost amnesiatic, but...."

"More like he's living in a fantasy world," Harrison interrupted.
"Not that I blame him.  Every time he wakes up, things are worse
than the last time."

"So he knows about Gen and Gary?" Elliot asked.

Gloria nodded.  "When he woke that first time after the accident
-- you heard he suffered a fairly severe head injury when he hit 
that pole?" she asked, waiting for Elliot's nod.  "Well, he'd been 
in a borderline comatose state for several days, but he recognized 
his parents, knew the year, who the governor is -- all the basic 
cognitive tests -- so I let Dr. Skoda tell him about Gen's 
miscarriage."

"Skoda?  Why was he on this case?"

"Since he's on staff here and the children were understandably 
upset, what with their father's accident and then their mother
being hospitalized as well, I thought it might be a good idea for 
him to talk to them...."

"Speaking of," Victoria said, "Harrison, isn't it about time for
Holly to get out of school?"

"Oh, yes.  Detec... Elliot, please feel free to stay as long as 
you like.  Dr. Nathan, we'll see you later this evening when we 
bring her by to visit?"

"Of course."

"Thank you again," Elliot said, shaking hands with both of the 
elder Beechers before watching them make their way down the 
corridor.  He looked at Gloria expectantly.  "Then what happened?"

"He lapsed back into a semi-comatose state.  Shortly after that,
Gary was killed in a hit-and-run accident, which we now know was
committed by Hank Schillinger, who Brian just happened to pick
up in a recent crack raid.  Gen was already under treatment for 
depression; it was only a few days after Gary's funeral that she 
committed suicide."

Elliot found himself struggling for the detachment that had kept
him afloat for so long at SVU.  "Poor Gen.  I wish I'd known...."

Gloria laid a gentle hand on his arm.  "Elliot, there was nothing
any of us could do.  You know as well as I do that if someone
really wants to go....  After losing the baby and then basically
losing her husband for the second time in less than a month...
and then Gary's death...."  She shrugged, at a loss for words.

"But Holly...."

"Try not to judge her too harshly, Elliot."

"I... I'm not.  I just...  Damn it, Gloria."  He took a deep breath,
willing back tears.  He hadn't been especially close to Gen himself,
but she and Kathy had been friends, and he could only imagine the 
cumulative effect all this was having on Holly.  "Then what?"

"He regained full consciousness again, or at least he seemed to.
He knew he was in a hospital; he remembered having an accident.
He spoke with Sister Pete and Father Mukada.  He even talked to
Brian and Sean briefly.  Then... I'm still not sure, to be honest.
He seemed a little agitated when Dr. Skoda came in to talk to him,
but we thought that was due to his previous visit."

"But when he found out about Gary and Gen...."

"He slipped back under."

"Classic avoidance."

"Basically.  With the physical trauma to help him along.  He's
been drifting in and out ever since."

Elliot glanced toward the doorway.  "Do you really think it'll do 
any good for me to go in there?"

"All we can do is keep trying, Elliot."

"You're right."  Opening the door, he stepped inside, then looked
over his shoulder.  "Thanks, Gloria.  For everything."  The last
thing he saw as the door swung shut was her encouraging smile.

Suddenly alone with the low beeping of the monitors and the still
figure lying under the crisp hospital linens, Elliot felt a shiver 
run down his spine.  He'd been in plenty of hospital rooms over the 
past five years, but somehow this unnatural calm unnerved him more
than all of those put together.  The Toby he remembered was rarely
motionless; even in sleep, he'd been restless.  He'd said that it 
was because he couldn't get his brain to slow down, and Elliot had 
joked that thinking too much sounded like an useful trait for a 
lawyer.

As if in response to Elliot's discomfort, Toby began to move,
his arms pushing awkwardly at the blanket pulled up to his chin.
Recognizing the signs of an incipient nightmare, Elliot moved
closer.  He reached the side of the bed as Toby groaned, and
instinctively rested his hand lightly on the other man's shoulder.

"Toby," he said soothingly, leaning close.  "Toby, it's okay.  
You're alright.  You're safe."

He froze as pale blue eyes flickered open, searching the room
before locking onto his own surprised gaze.  His surprise turned
to shock as Toby tried to smile, then uttered a single syllable
in a hoarse, yet undeniably pleased, whisper.

"Chris."

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 1 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 2/2)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Wed, 02 May 2001 15:55:06 -0000


continued from (1/2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall, 1982
----------

"Stabler.  Hey, Stabler!"  Elliot was knocked out of his deep level 
of concentration by the solid impact of an airborne pillow.  Pulling 
off his headphones, he glared at his roommate.

"Jaz!  What?"  

"Phone for you."

"Oh.  Thanks.  I didn't even hear it ring."

"Noticed that.  What the hell were you doing anyway?" the heavily 
tattoed junior asked, following Elliot into the hallway.  The 
shaven-headed singer for a local punk band, Jaz could've easily
been mistaken for a white supremacist if not for his well-worn
"Nazi Punks Fuck Off" t-shirt.

"Reading a letter from Angelique," Elliot replied, retrieving the
dangling pay phone receiver.  "Hello?"

"Elliot?  Hi.  You still up for pizza today?" a staticy voice
answered.

"The one in Chicago?" Jaz continued, oblivious to Elliot's other 
conversation.

"Oh, hey man.  Hold on a sec."  Holding his hand over the mouth-
piece, he looked over at Jaz.  "No.  That's Kitty.  Angelique's
in San Diego.  From when I was stationed at Pendleton."

Shaking his head, Jaz grumbled, "Musta been the fucking uniform,"
before heading back into their room.

"Sorry about that.  Yeah, I am, actually.  When and where?"

"You know where Luigi's is?  In about an hour?"

"You got it.  See you then."

***

Walking onto the patio of Luigi's Pizza, Elliot saw Toby sitting
with a neatly dressed black man wearing a red, green and yellow
knitted cap.  He paused, hesitant to interrupt what looked like
an intense conversation.  

As if sensing his presence, Toby looked up.  Smiling warmly, he
waved him over.  "Elliot, this is my friend Kareem Said.  Kareem, 
Elliot Stabler."

"Nice to meet you," Elliot said, getting only a curt nod in reply.

Standing, Said looked down at Toby and said, "Remember what we
discussed, my brother."

Toby sighed.  "I will, Kareem.  I'll see you after dinner, right?"

"Certainly.  Asaalam a'laikum."

"And with you as well," Toby replied.

With a slight bow of his head and a cold glance in Elliot's
direction, Kareem left, heading for a small group of similarly
attired young black men across the patio.

"What's with him?" Elliot asked, tossing his books on the table
and taking a seat.

"Kareem?  Oh, don't take it personally.  He doesn't like white
people very much."

Elliot raised an eyebrow.  "But he calls you his brother?"

Toby sniffed.  "I'm kind of an exception to the rule.  We knew 
each other in high school, plus I'm pretty involved in the anti-
apartheid movement here on campus."

"Anti-apartheid movement?" Elliot asked, looking confused.

"Oh, man," Toby said, chuckling.  "Good thing Kareem didn't hear
you say that or he'd be twice as paranoid."

Elliot frowned.  "Wanna let me in on the joke?"

"Sorry.  Kareem's a little leery of Crime majors.  He thinks you
all want to join the FBI and further the white man's agenda."
Seeing Elliot's offended expression, Toby continued.  "Don't sweat
it.  He's really not so bad.  He's smart as hell and his heart's
in the right place; it's just that his ego occasionally overrides 
his common sense."

Elliot grunted in reply, glancing at the other table, where Kareem 
and his group were looking over at them and whispering.

"It could be worse.  See that big guy over there?" Toby asked.

Elliot nodded.  He was hard to miss, towering over most of the other 
men and wearing a hat tilted so far to the side that it seemed to 
be defying gravity just to stay on his head.

"That's Simon Adebisi, an exchange student from Africa and a total
militant.  He was the leader of the movement before Kareem arrived."
Toby shuddered, then quickly changed the subject.  "So, you hungry?"

Elliot noticed Toby's reaction, but decided to let it go, at least
for now.  "Always.  Tell me what you like and I'll go put our order
in, then you can fill me in on this movement of yours."

***

"What's wrong, Kareem?" asked Arif, one of the younger members of
the group, noticing his mentor's preoccupation with the tall man 
walking into the restaurant.

"Tobias's new friend.  I don't trust him."

"Eh," Simon grumbled, shifting a toothpick from one side of his
mouth to the other.  "I don't trust none of dem."

"Simon," Kareem admonished softly, resting his hand on one of the
big man's massive shoulders, "Tobias may be white and have come
from a wealthy family, but I honestly believe his experiences over
the past year have given him a genuine empathy with our people."  
When Simon only shrugged in reply, Kareem added, "Besides, the day 
has not yet come when having a white lawyer on our side in a white
man's court is a meaningless thing."

Simon smiled broadly, then let out a loud laugh.  Clasping Kareem's
shoulder in a firm grim, he leaned in close.  "Der you go, brother.
I knew you had a method behind your madness."

*** 

Walking back out with a pitcher of root beer and a couple of glasses
-- both men having agreed that pizza without root beer was downright 
unnatural --  Elliot noticed that Kareem seemed to be following his 
every move.

As Toby pushed their books out of the way, Elliot poured them each 
a glass, then nodded in Kareem's direction.  "So is there something 
else going on with your friend?  Other than me being a stormtrooper-
in-training?"

Toby's brows dipped low over his eyes.  "What do you mean?" he
asked, lifting his drink.

"Like do you two have something going on or something?  Cuz he seems
awfully possessive."

It took a moment for Elliot's meaning to sink in, but when it did,
Toby's mouthful of root beer sprayed violently across the table.
"What?!" he sputtered.

"Hey, sorry.  Didn't mean to offend you or anything," Elliot 
apologized quickly, handing over a pile of napkins.  "It's not like
I care either way.  When I was in the service I had guys of every
possible stripe covering my ass."  Taking in the grin that was 
quickly replacing Toby's scowl, he mentally replayed what he'd just 
said.  "No pun intended."  As Toby began chuckling, he couldn't 
resist waggling his eyebrows and adding, "So I take it the answer 
is no?"

Toby shook his head, laughing helplessly.  "Oh, shit.  Damn, Elliot,  
remind me to be careful drinking around you.  Yes, the answer is
no.  Actually, Kareem would be incensed you even mentioned it --
same-sex relationships are an abomination against Allah according
to him.  Personally, I've never thought it was quite that big a 
deal.  So, do you still want to hear about apartheid or did you
want to dive right into Criminal Law?"

***

After polishing off the better part of a large sausage, onion and
mushroom pizza, they dug out their respective notebooks.  As Elliot 
flipped his open, Toby caught a glimpse of a detailed sketch of a 
crucified figure, minus the actual cross.

"Whoa.  Flip back.  Did you draw that?"

Eyes locked on the table, Elliot shrugged.  "Yeah.  It's no big
deal.  Just something I've been working on."

"It's good.  You taking an art class or something?" 

"Nah.  I'm, uh, thinking of getting it as my next tat," Elliot
replied, rubbing absently at his left shoulder.

"Really?  Why?  I mean, that's a big piece, you know?  A big
commitment."

"Christ-bearer," Elliot murmured.

"What?"

"Christopher," he said, a little louder.  Toby remained silent
and Elliot looked up, meeting his eyes.  "That's my middle name.
It means 'Christ-bearer.'"

(end/Chapter 1)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 2 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 1/3)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Wed, 09 May 2001 21:06:24 -0000

Title: Now and Then/Chapter 2
Fandom: SVU/Oz crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Elliot Stabler/Tobias Beecher
Author: Star
Rating: R (language + a little m/m UST)
Series: Now and Then 
Archive:  SVU, SORT, C5, TS(WW).  Others?  Just email me first.
Notes: Betaed by Data, but all mistakes are solely my fault.
Disclaimers:  I don't own SVU, Oz, Elliot or Toby.  Damn it.
Feedback: Sure.  aostara@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None.  This is pure AU
Summary:  The Beechers return, Brian pays a visit, and Toby
          and Elliot get to know each other a little better

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001
------------

"So he woke up and spoke to you?" Gloria asked.

"Yes.  Only for a moment, but, yes." Elliot replied, pacing the
hallway outside of Toby's room.

"And he recognized you?"

"Yes.  No.  I think so."

"Elliot..."

"Yes, he did."  

"Okay.  It's just not like you to be so," Gloria said, then shrugged.
"Unsure about anything," she finished.  Elliot's lips twisted in an 
ironic smile.  It seemed like that was the story of his life when it 
came to Toby.  "So what did he say?"

Elliot paused before replying.  "He, uh, called me Chris, actually.  
But he knows that's my middle name, so.... "  Stopping in front of 
Gloria, he pinned her under the intense stare that had wilted so 
many suspects and informants over the years.  "He *did* recognize 
me, Gloria."

Gloria looked thoughtful.  "So *you're* Chris," she murmured,
more to herself than to Elliot.  "That's interesting."

"Why?"

"Hmm?  Oh, because he mentioned that name several times when
he was semi-conscious.  And once when Dr. Skoda was there...."
she paused, as if uncertain if she should continue.

"What?"

"It was odd.  He opened his eyes for a moment, looked right at him 
and said 'Stay away from Chris, you bastard.'  He was agitated the
rest of the evening.  I can understand why his subconscious mind 
associates Dr. Skoda with Gen and Gary's deaths, but why would he 
consider him a threat to you?"  // And why would that matter so
much to him? // she wondered, giving her friend a measuring look.

Elliot shook his head, perplexed.  "I'm afraid only he knows the
answer to that."  

Further discussion was waylaid by the return of the elder Beechers,
a subdued Holly trailing behind, her eyes locked on the alternating 
beige and ivory tiles of the floor.  Elliot's heart clenched when 
he saw how she seemed to shrink in on herself, making her look even 
younger and more vulnerable.

"Why are you out in the hallway?" Victoria asked.  "Is anything
wrong?"

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Beecher," Gloria replied.  "In fact, 
Elliot was just telling me that your son woke briefly and seemed 
to recognize him."

Hearing the familiar name, Holly looked up, peering around her
grandparents.  "Uncle Elliot," she breathed.

Crouching down, Elliot opened his arms and quickly found them 
full of a suddenly animated eight year old.  Hugging her tightly,
he whispered, "How are you, sweetheart?" into her soft blond hair.

Leaving her small hands clasped behind his neck, she leaned back
and gave him a radiant smile.  "Better now," she announced.

"Why, Holly?" Harrison asked, startled by the immediate change 
in his granddaughter.

"Daddy says that he and Uncle Kareem make the bad police go away
so that people will let good police like Uncle Elliot help them.  
Now that he's here, he can help Daddy," she stated confidently.  
"Right, Uncle Elliot?"

Humbled by the absolute faith in the young girl's eyes, Elliot
found himself nodding.  "I'll do the best I can, Holly," he said.
"Now, why don't you go on in and see him."

"Aren't you coming in too?" she asked, a small frown appearing.

"Not right now, but I'll be back tomorrow.  Okay?"

Mollified, Holly nodded.  "Okay."  She pressed a quick kiss to
his cheek, then stepped back and took her grandmother's hand.
"Come on, gramma."  Giving Elliot a grateful smile, Victoria let
her granddaughter lead her into the darkened room.

"If that's alright," Elliot said, standing and giving Harrison
a questioning look.

"Of course."

***

Elliot walked slowly, his mind awash with the day's events.  He was 
only mildly surprised to find Brian Cassidy waiting for him, leaning 
against his car with an annoyed look on his face.

"I thought I might find you here."

"Hello, Brian."

"'Hello, Brian'?  Is that all you have to say?  Elliot, have you
lost your mind?"

Elliot sighed.  As one of the arresting officers, Brian would of 
course have been notified of last night's incident and -- in 
typical Brian fashion -- had probably been trying to track Elliot 
down ever since.  "What do you want me to say, Brian?  That it
was stupid?  That it was wrong?  We both know that.  That I'm
sorry?"  Shrugging, he stared over Brian's shoulder for a moment,
then met his eyes again.  "How's he doing anyway?"

"He'll be fine.  We're just damn lucky that -- for the moment 
anyway -- he's still in custody.  Damn it, Elliot, do you realize 
you might have completely blown this case?  His lawyer's been 
filing motions all day.  What the hell were you thinking?!" Brian 
raged, stepping forward into Elliot's personal space.

Startled by the younger man's uncharacteristic behavior -- despite 
their friendship, Brian was generally quiet almost to the point of 
diffidence around more senior detectives -- Elliot took a step back, 
then felt his own temper flare.  Pulling himself up to his full 
height, he closed the distance between them again before replying.  
"What I was *thinking*, if you can call it that, was that a 
consciousless addict caused the deaths of two members of my friend's 
family, and -- except for a little bit of good luck on your part -- 
would've gotten away with it."

"Two...?"

"Gen would still be alive if she hadn't lost both Gary and the
baby."

"She wouldn't have lost her baby if your *friend* -- who, except 
for a little bit of good luck on *his* part would be sharing a jail
cell with Schillinger, by the way -- hadn't wrapped his car around
a pole.  He was drunk, Elliot, and according to witnesses, he only 
missed that little girl on the bicycle by a matter of inches.  It 
was hearing about that that caused the miscarriage; it had nothing 
to do with my suspect.  And thanks to you, he might *still* get
away with it.  Think about that."  

Brian stalked away, leaving a pale and shaken Elliot staring 
blankly at the place where he'd stood.  Making his way slowly
and deliberately to the side of his car, he stilled the trembling
of his hands long enough to unlock the door, then sank into the
driver's seat.  He sat there for several long minutes, struggling
for a semblance of calm, then started the car and drove home to
his empty apartment.

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 2 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 2/3)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Wed, 09 May 2001 21:06:58 -0000

(continued from part 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall, 1982
----------

"So, you don't have to work tonight?" Toby asked, unlocking the
door to his apartment, awkwardly juggling his books and several
to-go boxes.  They'd been planning on studying on campus again, 
but the weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse.

"Nah, not much call for campus escorts on Saturday nights.  I'm
trying to keep my hours down anyway; studying's taking up more
time than I thought it would,"  Elliot replied, earning a grateful
smile by rescuing their rapidly tilting dinner before it could 
slip to the floor.

"Thanks.  I'm surprised you find time to work at all.  Hey, how
did that test go last week?"  Toby dropped his books on the couch,
then headed for the kitchen for plates and silverware.

"Not much of a choice, really," Elliot replied, setting the food
down on the table.  "It went okay, I guess.  Better than the last 
one, anyway, thanks to you."

Toby came back in and begin spooning rice onto both plates.
"Not a problem.  That's what friends are for, right?  You want
some of this kung pao?"

Elliot shook his head.  "Too hot for my blood.  I'll stick with
the sweet and sour."  He found himself oddly touched by Toby's
remark, just as he'd been earlier that day, when his use of the 
name Tobias had been met with a shy smile and an almost too-casual 
'call me Toby -- all my friends do.'  Toby had once again been
wrapping up a meeting with Kareem when he'd arrived and, based on 
the surprised expression on the Muslim leader's face, he'd gotten 
the impression it was a privilege not extended to many.

"Suit yourself.  You saving up for another bike now that the cast 
is off?  Your GI Bill covers school expenses, right?" Toby asked, 
foregoing the dining room table in favor of the couch.

"Pretty much, even though it means I have to stay in the dorms.
The job's so I have something to send home.  The money I made
roofing in Chicago last summer got used up getting the kids ready
for school.  Hey, you got any chopsticks?"

"I think they gave us some -- they should be somewhere on the table.  
There's, what, four younger Stablers at home?"

Joining Toby on the couch, Elliot snapped the wooden chopsticks
apart.  "Three.  Two sisters and my brother.  Since my dad died, 
Mom kinda counts on me to help out when I can."

Toby watched as Elliot expertly dipped a piece of chicken in the
gooey red sauce.  "Where did you learn how to use those?"

"I was stationed in Japan for a couple of years.  These are 
Chinese -- see, only one end's pointed -- but the principle is
the same.  So how about you?  No hot date tonight or anything?"

Toby made an amused snorting sound.  "Oh yeah -- just like every
Saturday."  At Elliot's confused expression, he patted the stack
of books beside him.  "With these.  Besides, I, uh, don't really
associate with many of the people I knew last year, other than
Kareem and some of his friends."

Elliot considered the bitter tone of that remark as he chewed and
swallowed.  He'd been curious about Toby's obvious hostility 
toward the self-proclaimed campus aristocracy of Mark Mack and
company since the night they'd met, and now found that curiousity
overcoming his usual reticence about prying into other people's
private lives.  Keeping his eyes focused on his food, he asked,
"You mean those frat guys and the girls they hang out with?"

Toby shot him a sharp look before replying.  "You'll make a hell
of an FBI agent someday, you know that?"

Elliot felt heat flood his cheeks as he looked up and met Toby's
eyes.  "Look, just forget I asked; it's none of my business...."

"No, it's okay.  It's not like it was all that unusual, I suppose.  
Pretty much all the frats have some type of hazing; I just had the
bad luck of hooking up with Mark, who takes it a little more...
seriously than most.  Besides, I was drinking a lot then and I don't 
remember much of it very clearly, anyway," Toby lied, then fell
silent.  Despite the alcohol, he knew he'd never completely be able
to forget the humiliation of being made to lick Mark's boots as
punishment for some seemingly minor infraction, or of having to
perform at a campus talent show in drag.

"Hey," Elliot said softly, lifting the plate out of Toby's trembling 
hands and setting it carefully on the table.  "It's okay; it's 
over."  Leaning closer, he raised his hand and let it rest lightly 
on the upper part of Toby's back.  He didn't need to know the 
details to recognize the symptoms of a mild case of post-traumatic 
stress disorder.

Toby leaned forward, resting his face in his hands.  "Fuck," he
groaned, his muscles twitching violently under Elliot's palm before 
relaxing into an almost boneless state as the combination of warmth 
and slow, soothing circles cut through his defenses.  After a few 
moments, he took a deep breath and sat up again, feeling Elliot's 
hand slip up to grip the back of his neck.  "And you know the worst 
part?" Toby asked, looking down at his clenched fists.

"What?" Elliot whispered.

Toby sighed, then looked up and met Elliot's worried gaze with 
haunted eyes.  "I can't even completely lay the blame on them,
because I let them do it to me."

Resting his free hand on Toby's shoulder, he turned the other man
to face him.  "Toby, you can't blame yourself."  Toby dropped his
eyes again and Elliot gave him a little shake.  "Hey, look at me."
Reluctantly, Toby did, and found himself both mesmerized and 
comforted by the genuine look of concern on Elliot's face.  "Listen 
-- whatever happened, *they* did it, okay?  Not you.  What *you* did 
was stand up to them and get yourself out of it, right?"  Encouraged 
by Toby's nod, Elliot smiled and added, "And probably left them with
a few lumps to remember you by, judging by the other night."  

Toby grinned in response and Elliot suddenly realized how close
they were sitting, and that at some point he'd unconsciously
begun stroking the soft hair at the nape of Toby's neck with his
fingertips.  Disoriented, he sat back, asking "Where'd you learn
to fight like that anyway?" to cover his quick retreat.

Feeling unexpectedly bereft at the loss of contact, Toby stared at 
Elliot intently for a moment, then turned and reached for his plate, 
hoping the movement hid the blush he felt creeping into his cheeks.  
"From a TA for one of my classes -- a guy named Cyril.  He was an 
amateur boxer and gave me a few tips before he graduated and moved 
out west."

They ate in a companionable, if slightly awkward, silence for a
several minutes, which Toby finally broke with a soft, "Elliot?"

"Hmm?" Elliot replied, warily.

"Thanks."

Elliot couldn't help smiling as he responded, "Hey, that's what 
friends are for, right?"  

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 2 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 3/3)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Wed, 09 May 2001 21:10:26 -0000

(continued from part 2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001
------------

The next morning, Elliot arrived at the hospital before dawn, armed 
with two extra large coffees from a nearby coffee house.  Handing 
one to a grateful Gloria -- hospital coffee ranked only slightly 
above precinct coffee in pure undrinkability, but was a basic 
necessity when pulling a double shift -- he sipped at the other and 
looked around for a comfortable place to wait for visiting hours to 
begin.  Dismissing her concern about his haggard state with a humor-
tinged reminder that doctors weren't the only ones used to working
long hours, he nonetheless accepted her offer of the couch in the 
staff lounge.  About five pages into the latest issue of Neurology
Monthly, he dozed off.

Startled awake by the slam of a locker door, Elliot eyed his watch
blearily and groaned.  Shift change -- time to get up and out of 
everyone's way.  Sitting up, he scrubbed at his face with his 
hands for a moment, then stood.  Wandering into the hallway, he
found Gloria filling out paperwork at the nursing station.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," she murmured as he approached,
giving him a warm smile.

"Very funny.  Aren't you supposed to be out of here?"

"Mmmhmm.  Brian's picking me up.  He should be here soon."

"Brian?  But... oh, that's right; it's Saturday."

"And by some miracle, we both actually have a traditional weekend 
off, baring emergencies."

"Congratulations."  As eager to dodge another run-in with Brian as 
he was to check in on Toby, he gestured toward the patient rooms.
"So, is it safe to go in yet or are the hounds still at bay?"

Gloria laughed quietly.  "Yes, it's safe -- all the morning nursing
duties are done.  But..."

"Great.  Have a good weekend," Elliot interrupted, beating a hasty
retreat.

***

Pushing the door open slowly, he tried not to be disappointed when 
he found Toby still unconscious.  He walked to the side of the bed,
relieved that -- judging by the rumpled condition of the covers --
it was at least a more natural sleep.  A small smile curved his
lips as he tugged the blanket back into position, then brushed 
Toby's hair back off his forehead.

"Considering a new vocation, Detective Stabler?"

Startled, Elliot turned toward the voice, his hand automatically
moving to the spot under his jacket where his gun usually rested.
Identifying the figure silhouetted against the windows, he 
relaxed, but only minutely.  "Minister Said," he said quietly.

"Of course, that might not be the worst idea, if what I've heard
of recent events is true," Said continued, moving to the other
side of the bed, meeting Elliot's coolly polite expression with
one of his own.

Although far from shocked -- he'd known for years that the Muslim
leader/civil rights advocate had contacts throughout the police
department -- he was nevertheless unsettled the news had gotten
out so quickly.  "In which case, I'm surprised to find you here,
rather than on the steps of the courthouse, hosting a press 
conference," he replied caustically.

"And leave my good friend Tobias alone?  No, I'll leave the press
conferences to others for the moment."

"'Good friend,'" Elliot scoffed.  "He's only your friend when you 
need him for some high-profile lawsuit, like that riot case two 
years ago," he accused, struggling to keep his voice low as his 
temper began to get the better of him.

"You, of all people, have no right to castigate anyone for having
ulterior motives where friendship with Tobias is concerned."

There was a soft knock at the door and both men froze, eyes locked 
in silent battle of wills.

"Elliot?"  Olivia Benson entered the room slowly.  While waiting 
in the hallway, unwilling to interrupt, she'd heard the distinctive
tone of her partner reaching his boiling point.  Although she 
seriously doubted he'd be picking a fight with the man he'd been
willing to risk his career for, after his recent display, she wasn't 
taking any chances.

Elliot turned his head, his glare softening as he met Olivia's
searching gaze.  "Olivia.  I'm sure you remember Minister Said."

"Detective Benson.  Always a pleasure," Said commented with a nod
as she made her way to the bedside.

Between the two men, Toby moved restlessly and murmured, drawing
Elliot's attention back to him like a magnet.  With a sense of
deja vu, he watched as Toby's eyes opened and sought him out,
brightening with happiness as they found him.

"Chris.  You're back.  Oh god, don't let them take you away again,"
Toby whispered, his voice trailing off to almost nothing.  

"Shhh... Toby, it's okay.  Relax...."

Leaning closer, Elliot continued making soft, soothing noises until 
-- with a tremendous effort -- Toby lifted a hand to his neck and 
pulled him down into a desperate, hungry kiss.

Hearing nothing but the blood rushing in his ears, seeing nothing
but the small furrows of Toby's brow as the expected response was
denied, Elliot felt as if he'd been thrust into a timewarp.  His 
mind told him to back away, but his body instinctively yielded
and a groan rose from deep in his chest as Toby's tongue traced 
his parting lips.  

As the low sound reverberated between them, Elliot suddenly found
himself released, wide blue eyes scanning his face.  "Elliot?"
Toby whispered.

Dazed, Elliot looked first at Olivia, finding a shock that matched
his own, then at Said, whose knowing, disgusted expression spoke 
volumes.

"I'll go get Dr. Nathan," Said growled, then stalked from the room,
disapproval evident in every step.

(end / Chapter 2)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 3 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 1/2)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Mon, 21 May 2001 15:41:20 -0000

Title: Now and Then/Chapter 3
Fandom: SVU/Oz crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Elliot Stabler/Tobias Beecher
Author: Star
Rating: R (language + m/m UST)
Series: Now and Then 
Archive:  SVU, SORT, C5, TS(WW).  Others?  Just email me first.
Notes: Betaed by Data & Mary, but all mistakes are solely my fault.
Disclaimers:  I don't own SVU, Oz, Elliot or Toby.  Damn it.
Feedback: Sure.  aostara@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None.  This is pure AU
Summary: Toby readjusts to the present; a little wrestling at NYU

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001
------------

"So what you're saying, basically, is that it was all a dream,"
Toby said, staring intently at Dr. Nathan.

"Well, not all of it, unfortunately, but... basically, yes."

Toby grimaced at the reminder of his all too real losses.  "But
that little girl's okay?"

"Kathy Rockwell?  Yes, she's fine.  You missed her completely."

Toby nodded, relieved.  "And I was never in prison?"

"Not that I know of.  In fact, New York State doesn't have a 
facility called Oswald Penitentiary or... what did you call it?"

"Oz.  As in 'Wizard of'.  Which makes sense, because I sure as
hell feel like Dorothy right about now.  'You were there, and you
were there'" he quoted sardonically, nodding first at Gloria,
then at Kareem.  He paused, looking toward the doorway.  "And
he was there," he finished, his voice soft, his eyes troubled.

***

Out in the increasingly familiar hallway, Elliot leaned against 
the wall, arms crossed defensively across his chest, adrenaline 
and embarassment flowing through him in waves.  Closing his eyes, 
he replayed the last few moments, wondering if somehow *he'd* 
been dreaming; if when he opened his eyes he'd be home, in bed.
Hell, maybe if he kept them shut long enough, Kathy and the kids
would be there when he woke up and life could get back to normal.

"Elliot?"

Reluctantly opening his eyes, he saw Brian standing a few feet
away, shifting nervously.  // Well, // he thought, // that little 
trick never worked before.  Why should it start now? //  "Brian,"
he began wearily, knowing that the last thing he needed right now 
was another arguement.

"Look, I want to apologize for last night.  I was out of line...."

"No, I was out of line.  With you, with Sean and most of all
with"  // Toby //  "Hank Schillinger.  I know it's not an excuse,
but Toby and I were... close... in college."  Sensing a presence to 
his right, he paused and met the curious gaze of his partner for a 
moment before continuing.  "Kathy and Gen were friends, our kids 
play... played... together.  I was...."  He let the sentence trail 
off, absently taking the cup of coffee Olivia pressed into his hand.  
He knew he owed them both a better explanation, but he'd be damned 
if he could think of one now, not with the memory of that kiss still 
so fresh in his mind.

"Ell," Olivia said quietly, "you wanna go sit down somewhere?"

// No, I want to go back in there and find out what the hell is
going on with Toby.  Or get the hell out of this hospital and
never come back.  I haven't really decided which yet.  //  "Yeah,
sure," he compromised.  As they turned toward the elevators, the 
door to Toby's room opened and Gloria emerged.

"Hi, Angel," Brian greeted her, his face lighting up as he bent to
kiss her on the cheek.  He hadn't expected anything good to come out 
of being shot during his first case with Narcotics, but when he awoke 
from surgery and saw Gloria --  who he immediately dubbed his own 
personal angel of mercy -- at his bedside, he'd offered up a sincere 
prayer of gratitude. 

"Hi, sweetie.  I should be done soon.  Sorry to keep you waiting,"
she apologized, giving him a loving smile.  "Olivia, it's good to
see you.  How have you been?"

"Good to see you too, Gloria.  I've been good.  How's your patient
doing?"

"Surprisely well suddenly," Gloria replied, shooting a curious
glance in Elliot's direction.  Faced with a complete lack of 
response, she turned back to Olivia and Brian.  "He seems to be
back in the here and now, but he's still pretty shook up about
the virtual reality he was living in for a while there.  And about
his family, of course.  Speaking of, I need to go call his parents.
I'm sure they and Holly will want to get here as soon as possible.
His friend Kareem said he'd sit with him until they get here, but
if you want to go in..."

"No, thanks, Gloria.  I was just going to buy Olivia some breakfast,
actually," Elliot said quickly, meeting Olivia's raised eyebrow
with an unspoken plea.  Facing Toby again was going to be hard
enough without Said's presence.

"Sure," she finally said.  "When do I ever turn down a free meal?"

Brian laughed.  "You've been hanging around Munch too long."

***

Toby rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, shaking his
head.  "I just don't understand it, Kareem.  It was all so real!
Why the hell would I make all that up?  I understand about Gary
and Gen, but... prison, Nazis... all that violence and pain."  
// And let's not forget 'Chris' //

"Tobias, you had a severe concussion.  As your doctor explained,
sometimes people retreat from this reality to heal from such an
injury, and in the absence of external stimuli...."

"Yes, yes.  The brain turns inward and delves into the subconscious
mind.  But...."

"But?"

"Why that?  I've got plenty of happy memories it could've twisted
around into some kind of alternate reality."

"Perhaps since you believed you hit that little girl, you also
believed you deserved to be punished.  You were drinking heavily,
which is something I haven't seen you do since college.  I thought
you were still in program...."

"I am.  I... I guess I fell off the wagon," Toby mumbled, staring
at his hands, which had fallen to lay limply in his lap.

"Hmmm," Kareem steepled his fingers under his chin.  "Do you want
to talk about why, or would you rather save that for your sponsor?"

Toby was silent for a moment, considering.  Finally he sighed, 
pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them 
as had been his habit when he was a much younger man.  "I had just 
found out that Harry -- that's what we were going to name the baby
-- wasn't mine."

"What?" Kareem breathed in a shocked whisper.

"Gen was having an affair," Toby explained.  "We had a huge fight
before I left that day.  I... I think that's why I couldn't handle 
it when they told me she'd lost the baby.  And then when I found
out she was dead..."  Toby's voice dissolved into sobs as he curled 
into a tighter ball and rested his head on his forearms.

Kareem immediately moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled
Toby over to lean against him.  He rolled his eyes heavenward, 
softly praying to Allah for his friend's trials to have ended;
there was only so much one man should be expected to bear.

The familiar litany gradually soothed Toby and eventually he sat 
back up, wiping his eyes distractedly.  "Well, that's one thing
that stayed the same," he murmured.

"What's that?" Kareem asked, moving back to the chair at the 
bedside.

"Even in that horrible dream -- even when we didn't agree on
certain issues -- you were always there for me when I really hit 
bottom."

Kareem was suddenly thankful for his dark skin, knowing it would
easily hide the flush spreading across his face.  Yes, he did love 
the other man like a brother, but he also knew that there was a 
certain expediency involved as well -- that Elliot's barbs angered 
him so easily because sometimes they hit far too close to home.

"Always, my brother," he managed to say, with only the slightest
tremble in his voice.

***

Olivia washed down her last bite of eggs with a sip of coffee,
watching closely as her partner absently pushed his breakfast
from one side of his plate to the other.

"Elliot, if you're not going to sleep, you at least have to eat,"
she said softly, genuinely concerned, and more than a little
surprised at his reaction to what appeared to be good news.  Of 
course, a lot of things about Elliot had taken her by surprise over 
the past few days -- his close ties with a whole family he'd never 
mentioned, his precipitous attack on Sean's suspect, his obviously
personally antagonistic history with Kareem Said, and, last but 
certainly not least, that kiss.  

"Hmm?  Oh, I slept," Elliot replied, giving her a rueful smile.
"Gloria tricked me into it."

"Good."  Olivia reached across the table and rested her hand on his 
arm.  "I've been worried about you, Elliot.  What's going on?  I
mean, it's obvious you and your friend are close...."  She paused 
and watched in amazement as Elliot looked down, the reddened tips 
of his ears easily giving away the blush he was trying to hide.

"Not really," Elliot mumbled.  "At least, not lately, but...."

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 3 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 2/2)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Mon, 21 May 2001 15:41:42 -0000

(continued from Part 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall, 1982
----------

Elliot followed Toby into the gym, tossing their bags off to 
the side of the large black mats that covered most of the floor.
"So you never wrestled before?" he asked, moving into a series
of slow stretches, motioning for Toby to do the same.

"Nah.  I considered it, but my folks weren't very supportive.  Too 
afraid I'd get hurt, I suppose, especially after one of the guys on 
my high school team got his leg broken during practice."

"They didn't mind you boxing with Cyril?"

Toby winced in sympathy as Elliot grimaced, warming up his leg 
muscles with several slow, deep lunges.  Realizing he was staring, 
he shrugged and turned away.  "Didn't tell them," he replied.

Elliot paused, watching closely as Toby propped one leg on a 
nearby bench, then bent to simultaneously retie his shoe and 
stretch out the back of his thighs.  "You didn't tell them much
about that year, did you?"  

In the almost two months they'd known each other, Elliot had heard 
several of Toby's stories from the previous fall, and had done his 
best to convince him that what Mark had done went far beyond hazing 
and should be reported.  Each time, Toby had shrugged off the 
suggestion with a sardonic comment about how much money Mark's 
family donated to the school.  The way he saw it, he'd gotten 
himself out, doled out a few lumps of his own, and now just tried 
to avoid Mark and his cohorts as much as possible.

Toby glanced up and narrowed his eyes.  "Are we gonna do this,
or what?" 

Chastened, Elliot stepped to the center of the mat.  "Sure."
Once Toby joined him, he added, "All right, square yourself up and
put your strong leg back."

"Which is my strong leg?"

"I don't know.  I guess we'll figure that out as we go.  All right, 
the key is to grab the other guy's waist, pull him on top of you, 
then spin him around at the last second so you can pin him.  Okay?" 
Toby nodded.  "Let's go."

The two men circled each other, eyes darting from face to torso in 
an attempt to spot an opening or a moment of lapsed concentration.
Toby leaned forward, attempting an abortive grab, and Elliot jumped 
on the opportunity presented, hooking Toby around the neck.  Sweeping 
his legs out from under him, he used Toby's own momentum against him, 
spinning them both to the ground.  He landed heavily on the other
man's chest, pinning him firmly to the ground.

"Ow! You grabbed my neck!"

Elliot grinned and sat back on his knees.  "Oh, yeah, I guess I 
forgot to tell you about that one."  He stood, extending a hand
to help the other man up.

"Nice," Toby murmured, but accepted the assistance with a wry
smile.  Squaring off again, he said, "Let's try it again. Slowly."

***

Thirty minutes later, they were both sweaty and exhausted, but
Toby found he couldn't stop smiling.  He'd managed several solid
pins and had finally been persuaded that Elliot was not, in fact,
letting him win.  He helped Elliot up, then asked, "Wanna go
again?"

Elliot leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he caught 
his breath.  Glancing up, he chuckled at the eager expression on
Toby's face, then shook his head.  "Don't you ever get tired?  
We've been at it for at least half an hour, and we both still have
to get cleaned up and pack for the long weekend," he commented, 
walking toward their bags and pulling out a couple of towels.

Toby colored slightly and shrugged.  "Guess I hadn't noticed,"
he replied, catching the towel that Elliot tossed his way.

"Come on.  Let's hit the showers.  We can practice some more next
week... burn off some of that Thanksgiving dinner and pumpkin pie."

Toby took in the long, lean lines of Elliot's body as he walked
towards the showers, stripping off his shirt as he went.  "Not like 
you have anything to worry about," he mumbled, following close
behind.

"What?" Elliot called over his shoulder, unself-consciously 
kicking off his sneakers and slipping out of his sweatpants.

"Nothing," Toby replied, turning aside to drape his towel over the 
half-wall separating the showers from the dressing area.  He'd run
into similar situations in high school, and couldn't decide which 
he was more envious of -- Elliot's ease with his own body or the 
shape he'd molded that body into.  

Slowly stripping off his own clothes, he waited until he heard water 
running, grabbed a shampoo bottle out of his bag, and stepped 
quickly into a spot a couple of showerheads away from Elliot.  
Glancing over as the dark-haired man shut his eyes and tilted his 
face up into the warm stream, he wondered suddenly if envy was the 
right word.  Where Elliot was concerned, it felt more like... 
admiration.  Looking back toward the wall, Toby quickly distracted 
himself from that thought by adjusting the water and vigorously 
scrubbing at his overgrown hair.  // I'd better find time for a 
haircut before I head home.  I doubt Mother would approve of this 
look. //

"Toby."

"Hmmm?"

"Toss me that bottle of shampoo, will ya?  I forgot mine."

Without thinking, Toby turned and bent to retrieve the bottle,
stiffening, then standing slowly as he heard Elliot's startled
indrawn breath.

"Toby?" he queried softly, stepping closer.

Toby shut his eyes, humiliated beyond blushing.  He'd told Elliot 
most of what Mark had put him through, but had carefully avoided 
mentioning his most permanent legacy -- the badly scarred tattoo
of a swastika etched into the flesh of his right buttock.

"Wha... when did you... did Mark... " Elliot fumbled.

"Yes," Toby sighed.  He opened his eyes and sought the increasingly
familiar comfort of Elliot's warm gaze.  "It was right before I 
left the frat.  I'd just started talking to Kareem again -- against
Simon's objections, of course."  

Elliot nodded.  He'd heard all about Simon's hostile reaction to
Toby's friendship with Kareem.  Between that and Kareen's own
cold rejection of his high school companion, Toby had been an easy 
target for the false friendship offered by a sadist like Mark, 
who casually used the Greek system as both his front and his hunting 
ground.

"I wore my pledge shirt to one of the big anti-apartheid rallies. 
Got on the news and everything," Toby continued in a subdued voice, 
only a dim reflection of the pride he'd felt at the time shining 
through his palpable misery.  

Elliot rested his hands on Toby's shoulders, his thumbs gently
massaging the tense muscles he found there, silently encouraging 
him to continue.

Toby took a deep breath, fixing his attention on a point at the
center of Elliot's broad chest.  "Turns out Mark wasn't too 
pleased with the idea of his 'boy' being seen as a nigger-lover,"
Toby hissed, "so that night, they slipped something into my
drink.  The next morning, I woke up with this... fucking thing...
on my ass."  He shrugged.  "That was pretty much it for me.  I got 
up, I got out."

"Son of a bitch," Elliot growled, tightening his grip painfully,
startling Toby into looking up.

"Elliot," he whispered, transfixed by the blue flames burning in 
the depths of the other man's eyes.

"I hate what that bastard did to you."  Hearing voices approaching,
Elliot blinked a few times, then took a small step back.  He stared 
blankly into Toby's eyes for a moment, then glanced at the slim
blond's shoulders, realizing that by tomorrow there would be 
bruises in place of the fading white marks left by his fingers.
"Shit, man.  I'm sorry."

Shaken, and more than a little confused by his own reaction to 
the heat he'd seen in Elliot's eyes, Toby simply shrugged and
stepped back under the water.  When Elliot didn't move, Toby forced 
a small grin and said, "Hey, it's okay.  I, uhm, it's nice know 
somebody cares.  Ya know?"  As the shadows cleared from Elliot's
expression, Toby felt his lips curve into a genuine smile.  It 
*was* nice that somebody cared, and that the somebody was Elliot.

(fin/Chapter 3)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 4 (SVU/Oz, NC-17, Slash, 1/2)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Tue, 29 May 2001 20:20:50 -0000

Title: Now and Then/Chapter 4
Fandom: SVU/Oz crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Elliot Stabler/Tobias Beecher
Author: Star
Rating: NC-17 
Series: Now and Then 
Archive:  SVU, SORT, C5, TS(WW).  Others?  Just email me first.
Notes: Betaed by Data, Mary & Mark, but mistakes are all my fault.
Disclaimers:  I don't own SVU, Oz, Elliot or Toby.  Damn it.
Feedback: Sure.  aostara@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None.  This is pure AU
Summary: A dream, a reunion and a little more wrestling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall, 1982
----------

Elliot turned his face up to the warm spray of the shower, smiling
as he felt the slightest brush of fingertips across his chest.  
Keeping his eyes closed, he turned to face the source of the 
gentle touch, which grew bolder in response to his eager reaction.  
Flattened palms slid easily over his slick pecs, massaging his 
shoulders for a moment before slipping back down, nimble fingers 
teasing peaked nipples.  He groaned, and the fingers moved lower, 
gliding along his ribs in an almost ticklish motion before circling 
his navel.  His breath caught in his throat as the teasing touch
continued its descent, tracing over his hipbones and down his legs, 
then moving inwards until knuckles pressed against his inner thighs, 
encouraging him to widen his stance.

Breathing raggedly, he did so, and immediately felt one hand hefting 
the soft weight of his balls, while the other took his erection into 
a much firmer, but equally satisfying, grip.  He reached forward, 
hands settling briefly on slim hips before slipping around to the 
silky-wet smoothness of the small of a well-muscled back.  As the 
strokes grew firmer and faster, his hands dipped lower, fingers 
curling easily around the sweet curves of his lover's ass.  The 
fingertips of his left hand brushed over the coarse texture of scar 
tissue and he froze, then slowly opened his eyes.  "Toby," he 
whispered, his hips jerking uncontrollably as the naked desire 
gleaming in the other man's eyes pushed him over the edge.

With a soft cry, he woke, half-sitting up before falling back
bonelessly against familiar sheets.  "Christ," he groaned, feeling 
the last pulses of his release coating his stomach.  Reluctantly
rolling his eyelids open, he stared blankly at the ceiling of his 
room.  Slowly reality seeped in -- he was home for Thanksgiving, not 
at school; sleeping in his own bed, not in a gynasium shower; alone, 
not with....  

He closed his eyes again and rubbed his face with his hands.
Knowing he'd never get back to sleep, his mind raced, searching
for something -- anything -- to do rather than dwell on whether
what had just happened was an aberration or a revelation.  Sighing,
he tossed back the covers, grimacing as the cold air hit his
stomach.  Laundry, he finally decided.  He hated doing laundry, 
but it was better than lying here wondering how the hell he was 
going to look Toby in the eye on Monday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001
------------

After reminding his partner about the lunch date she needed to get 
ready for and walking her out to her car, Elliot hurried back to the 
neurological unit.  He knew from the calculating look on Olivia's 
face that he'd left her curiousity far from satisfied, but was 
thankful that -- for the moment, anyway -- she'd been willing to 
let him off the hook.

As he neared Toby's room and noticed that the door was open, his 
steps slowed.  // Maybe this isn't such a great idea after all.
I mean, his family's sure to be here by now... Said might still
be there... I sure as hell don't want to make him uncomfortable // 
he thought, negotiating with himself as he came to a dead halt in
the middle of the hallway.  // Make *him* uncomfortable.  Right. //
Cursing himself for a coward, Elliot squared his shoulders and 
forced himself to at least walk far enough to peek into the room.

Immediately reassured by the image that greeted him, Elliot leaned
up against the doorjam with a smile.  The elder Beechers weren't 
visible at the moment, but Gloria had apparently gotten hold of 
them, because there -- nestled contentedly in her father's arms -- 
was Holly.  Toby's eyes were red-rimmed, but glowing with happiness,
while Holly gazed up at him with the kind of unconditional wonder 
that only a child can.  His heart clenched for a moment, thinking 
about his own children.  They were currently in Europe with their 
mother on an extended spring break, and his only contact with them
had been rushed phone calls.  He crossed his arms across his chest 
defensively, catching both Toby and Holly's attention.

"Uncle Elliot," Holly cried, leaping off the bed and running towards 
him.  "You did it!  You made daddy better!"

Following his daughter's path with his eyes, Toby looked up and 
noticed the other man's startled expression.  He chuckled faintly 
as an obviously flustered Elliot focused his attention on picking 
Holly up and carrying her back toward the bed.

"Hey, I didn't do anything, sweetheart.  Personally, I think he 
woke up because he was missing you so much," Elliot said with a 
wink, making Holly's already brilliant smile even brighter.  Looking 
over at Toby as he set Holly down, he fought the urge to blush and 
murmured a subdued hello.

Suddenly remembering how he actually had awoken, Toby responded
in kind, but was much less successful in keeping the color from
rushing to his face.   Pulling Holly back to his side, he used her 
presence as a shield against the awkward silence.

"Where's your folks?" Elliot asked after a long moment, grateful for 
a safe topic.

"They went down the hall to the waiting room.  Mother needed a 
moment to get herself together."

Elliot nodded, lapsing back into the uncomfortable silence, then
cast a pointed glance at the door.

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 4 (SVU/Oz, NC-17, Slash, 2/2)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Tue, 29 May 2001 20:21:03 -0000

(continued from Part 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sensing Elliot's imminent departure, Toby cleared his throat and 
-- summoning up his courage -- said, "Speaking of... Holly, do you 
think you could run down the hall and check on your grandmother?  
I bet seeing you smiling like that would make her feel better; I 
know it worked for me.  And I, uhm, need to talk to Elliot alone 
for a minute."

Giving Toby another hug and a quick kiss, Holly agreed, then turned
to Elliot and held up her arms.  "Help me down?" 

Elliot swung her down, then watched her leave the room, a feeling
of uneasy anticipation settling over him.  He glanced back at Toby 
and found the other man staring down at the covers, plucking at 
them nervously.  

"Elliot, I," he began in a whisper, then forced himself to speak up.
"I appreciate what you said to Holly, but...."  He paused, obviously 
considering his words, then looking up and met Elliot's gaze.  "It 
*was* you that brought me back.  I needed something that would... 
I don't know... tie everything together, I guess.  The past, the 
dreams, the present.  I'm, uh, sorry if I embarassed you in front of 
your partner."

"I'm not," Elliot replied without thinking, causing Toby's eyes
to widen with surprise.  "I mean, I'm glad that it, uhm, helped,"
he added quickly.  Then his innate detective's curiousity got the 
better of him and he asked, "What was it you were dreaming about 
anyway?"

Toby shifted uncomfortably.  "Long story.  Can we save it for another
time?  I'm getting kinda tired, actually."

Elliot -- caught between concern for Toby's health and happiness
that Toby wanted him to visit again -- nodded and started toward
the door.  "Oh, yeah, sure.  Lemme go get your folks and Holly back 
in here."

"Elliot?"

Stopping, he turned and faced the bed again.  "Yeah, Toby?"

"Thanks."

Shrugging, he gave Toby a lop-sided grin.  "Hey, that's what friends
are for."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall, 1982
----------

// This is not a good idea. //

Kneeling behind a half-naked Toby, uncomfortably aware of the way
the gym lights glistened on the slick muscles of his back, Elliot 
bit back a low groan.  He'd done a good job of ignoring his dream 
over the long holiday weekend, but the look of pure happiness on 
Toby's face when they'd met for lunch on Monday had left him 
breathless.  He'd been too busy trying to slow his racing heartbeat 
to do anything but nod when Toby had suggested another wrestling 
lesson the next afternoon, so here they were -- sweaty, stripped
to the waist, and ready for another take down.

With a stomach-clenching combination of dread and anticipation, he 
leaned forward, wrapping his right arm around Toby's waist while 
the other hand came to rest on his wrist.  Feeling his body begin 
to respond to the curve of buttock and thigh pressed against it, he
moved quickly.  Curling his right hand behind Toby's neck, he surged
upwards, breaking the other man's connection to the floor.  From
there it was only a matter of seconds before Toby was flipped over 
onto his back, Elliot's face pressed close to his stomach, slipping
lower as Toby's bucked upwards.  Abruptly releasing his hold, he
fell to the side and immediately found himself pinned under Toby's
heaving chest.  

They stared at each other for a moment, Elliot's mouth falling open
in slackjawed pleasure as Toby scissored their legs, snugging his 
groin up against Elliot's hip with an instinctive, slow grind.  Eyes
bright with sudden arousal, Toby's hand slid off Elliot's shoulder,
first to the mat, then under his neck, cupping his nape gently.  
Elliot flicked his tongue over his lips nervously as Toby leaned 
closer, wondering if this was another dream, and hoping that -- if
it was -- he wouldn't wake up just yet.

Suddenly a door slammed shut and a familiar voice filled the gym.
"Aww... look at the jarhead and his little sweetpea.  Hope we're not
interrupting anything for you two lovebirds," Mark Mack taunted,
making kissing sounds as Toby hurriedly stood and stepped away from
Elliot's prone form, his expression reflecting fear and confusion.  
"Shoulda know you were a couple of fags," Mark continued, as he 
and his chuckling cohorts made their way toward the free weights on 
the far side of the gym.  "That why you left the house, To-bi-as?  
Because we didn't do anything to your ass but tattoo it?"  

Fueled by a burst of adrenaline, Elliot surged off the floor and 
started toward Mark, only to be stopped short by a strong grip on 
his arm and a soft, "Elliot, no."  Glancing at Toby, his eyes flashed
with anger as he took in the other man's pallor.  "It's not worth it.
Let's just go." 

"The hell with that," Elliot replied hoarsely, pulling his arm loose 
from Toby's hold.  "Either we do something about him and those other
jerks or we stay and go again.  Running away will just make things 
worse."

Toby looked hesitantly from Mark to the door, then back at Elliot,
searching the deep blue eyes for some hint of the other man's 
feelings.  Finding no hint of the affection he'd been catching 
glimpses of throughout the day, nor of the scorching heat of a few 
moments ago, he reluctantly nodded.  "Okay, but this time you take 
the floor.  I wanna practice that move you just used."  Elliot 
nodded, then took his position, head raised to continue glaring at 
Mark as Toby kneeled behind him, then leaned forward and attempted 
to duplicate Elliot's last throw.

Still pumped from his own combination of anger, fear and confusion,
Elliot bucked upwards, flipping Toby off his back and onto the mat,
where he landed awkwardly on his side.  Throwing himself aggressively 
forward for the pin, he cringed in horror as he heard a loud snap, 
followed instantly by Toby's scream of pain.
 
(fin/Chapter4)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 5 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 1/?)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Tue, 10 Jul 2001 14:45:30 -0000

Okay my dears -- since I don't even have time to feedback 
all the AMAZINGLY hot and touching fic that's been posted
recently, nevermind actually whip the Muses into line long
enough to write between now and getting on a plane tomorrow
night -- I'm posting this short intro to chapter 5 as a peace
offering to both you AND my long-suffering ElliotMuse, who was
an absolute dear and paced the ER for *weeks* while ChrisMuse
borrowed Toby.  


Title: Now and Then/Chapter 5
Fandom: SVU/Oz crossover (kinda)
Pairing: Elliot Stabler/Tobias Beecher
Author: Star
Rating: R (language, m/m UST)
Series: Now and Then 
Archive:  SVU, SORT, C5, TS(WW).  Others?  Just email me first.
Notes: Betaed by Data & Mary, but mistakes are all my fault.
Disclaimers:  I don't own SVU, Oz, Elliot or Toby.  Damn it.
Feedback: Sure.  aostara@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None.  This is pure AU
Summary: Toby gets out of the hospital (x2).  Male bonding,
         lots of catching up, misc comforting and UST.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November, 1982
--------------

Elliot paced the waiting room of the ER, casting nervous glances at 
the clock above the nurses station each time he made a turn.

// How the hell long does it take to cast a broken arm anyway? //

It seemed like it was taking them an awfully long time, at least in 
comparison to his own recent experience.  His lips twitched into a
quickly aborted grin as he remembered that -- due to the medication 
he'd been on at the time -- it was entirely possible his sense of 
time had been skewed.

// Oh God, I hope they have Toby on some good meds by now. //

He knew he should sit down, conserve his energy for later, but he 
was afraid that -- like a shark -- if he stopped moving, he'd drown. 
With each brief pause, he could feel thoughts lapping at his mind,
ready to sweep him under, so instead he walked, keeping the
adrenaline pumping by focusing on the frantic half hour he'd spent
with Toby before they'd taken him away to get his cast put on.

Oh, he hadn't seemed frantic on the surface, of course.  To the
outside world, he was every inch the squad leader he'd been in the 
Marines: concerned, competent and commanding.  Once his mind finished
processing the sickening snap of what turned out to be a fractured 
radius, it was as though a mask had automatically slipped into place,
allowing him to access the damage, get 911 called -- 'command
voice' worked exceptionally well on Mark's sheep-like cohorts --
and keep Toby as calm and comfortable as possible.

On the inside, however, his stomach had clenched at every muted
whimper, and his heart had ached every time Toby eyes found his,
seeking the comfort he'd come to depend on during their late-night
conversations.  The ambulance ride had been marginally better,
what with the attendent's requisite questions and vitals checks
as a distraction, but when they arrived at the hospital and he 
would've gladly escaped to the waiting room, Toby's plaintive gaze 
stopped him dead in his tracks.  Driven by a mixture of guilt and 
a swirl of nameless emotions he had no intention of dealing with 
yet, he'd found himself asking to stay.

At Toby's eager nod, the attending physician had agreed, but made
him promise to stand back and not interfere.  During the initial 
examination it had been an easy promise to keep -- it had gone by 
quickly and fairly painlessly, and he'd even been able to give
Toby an encouraging wink as he'd stepped outside with the staff
during the x-ray.  It wasn't until the orthopedist stepped in for 
a consultation that not interfering had gotten more difficult.  The
radius was only partially fractured, the young specialist had
explained, and in order to reset the arm and cast it, they needed 
a clean break.

Elliot paused in his pacing and rubbed at his eyes wearily.  He 
didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Toby's face as the nurse 
held him down and the doctor twisted his arm until it gave, then 
smoothly popped it back into place.  For a moment he'd even been 
angry at Toby for not looking away -- for not allowing *him* to look
away.  Witnessing that kind of pain without being able to step in 
and stop it... especially Toby's... especially since it was his own 
damn fault to begin with -- he'd felt like a heel already; the 
misplaced anger only made it worse.

Dropping his hands, he looked back at the clock and noticed a 
familiar figure waiting at the nurses station.

"Said," he called out.  The initial chill between them had never
completely thawed, but for Toby's sake they'd called a truce and 
learned to deal with each other with polite formality.

Kareem turned, frowning as Elliot approached.  "Stabler.  I should
have known you had something to do with this.  Where is he?"

Elliot paled.  "What are you doing here?" he asked in a low,
angry tone, his tangled emotions gratefully using Said as a
lightening rod.

"I'm Tobias's local emergency contact.  They called me immediately
after his parents were notified.  Once I determine his condition, 
I'm to call them."

Wondering once again whether Said's stilted speech pattern was a 
result of an equally stilted upbringing or if it had come along part 
and parcel with his conversion to Islam, Elliot replied, "He'll be 
fine.  He's got a broken right arm -- they're casting it right now."

"A broken arm!  And how did that happen?" Said asked, suspicion and
blame written clearly on his face.

Elliot was spared a response by the arrival of a tall, blond nurse
-- the one who'd had to help hold Toby down.  He blinked that image
away and focused on what she was saying.

"Mr. Stabler?  Your friend's ready to go home now; they'll wheel
him out in a second.  You might want to bring your car around,
though.  He's a bit shaky from the pain medication."

"Oh.  I... uhm...."  Elliot looked over at Kareem, hating to ask him, 
of all people, for help -- cursing last spring's decision to buy a 
motorcycle rather than a car for the first time since his own cast
had been removed.

With a smug look, Said gave Elliot a small nod, then said, "I'll 
actually be driving Tobias home, Nurse..." 

"Metzger."

"Nurse Metzger.  Thank you for letting us know."

"My pleasure.  Now, these are his prescriptions; make sure to get 
these filled today," she replied, holding out two small slips of
paper to Said, startling slightly when Elliot took them instead.

"We sure will," Elliot said, his eyes locked on Said.  Softening
his tone, he turned and gave the middle-aged woman a sincere smile.
"Thank you."

Looking curiously from one young man to the other, the puzzled
nurse nodded, turned and made her way back toward the examination 
rooms.

Elliot turned to the still-frowning Muslim and his smile faded.
Meeting the questioning gaze with a neutral expression, he waited
a beat, then asked, "Shouldn't you go get your car?"

Said raised an eyebrow.  "I suppose you're coming with us?"

"I'd say that's up to Toby, but, yeah, I'd like to help," Elliot
replied.

Said nodded, a grudging look of respect in his eye -- if nothing
else, Stabler seemed willing to shoulder responsibility -- then
turned and headed out the doors that led to the parking lot.

Elliot watched him go, then resumed his pacing, both dreading and
eagerly anticipating Toby's arrival.

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 5 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 2/?)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Mon, 06 Aug 2001 15:33:38 -0000

Bet you all thought I forgot about these two, huh?

Not likely... although Blair and Jim have kept me quite distracted.
I'll see what I can do about getting back on track though....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring, 2001: Sunday
---------------------

As lunchtime approached, Toby realized he was feeling more than a 
little overwhelmed.  After nearly a month of living in a world 
populated primarily by his personal, yet comfortingly predictable, 
demons, the real-life emotional chaos swirling around his hospital
room was -- quite frankly -- exhausting.

The morning had started out pleasantly enough, with his parents
and Holly arriving at the stroke of ten, followed closely by 
Elliot, whose tentative grin turned into a full-blown smile
when the Beecher clan greeted him like a long-lost member of the
family.  Even Toby had been surprised when his usually reserved
mother had met the tall detective at the door with a warm hug
and insisted he join them, apparently sharing Holly's conviction
that Elliot had unwittingly played the role of Toby's knight in
shining armour.  There was the underlying tension of things left 
unsaid, especially when NYU was mentioned, but he'd long ago
grown used to that.

No, the tension hadn't started rising to its current nerve-wracking
level until Kareem had arrived.  Elliot's jaw had tightened 
perceptively when the Muslim leader received an equally familial
greeting and -- in the past hour -- had seemed to harden into
granite.  Between that and Kareem's own passive-aggressive behavior
-- the telling glances that only Elliot and Toby seemed to catch a
glimpse of, the way he never quite addressed a comment to Elliot
directly, the way his conversation consistently drifted to the 
most recently publisized foibles of the NYPD -- Toby's head was
starting to ache.  

He noticed that even his family eventually picked up on the tension,
with Harrison cautiously walking a thin line between agreeing with 
Kareem about some of the cases while also pointing out that there
were still plenty of good police around, like Elliot.  As Victoria
chimed in with her agreement, a nervous shifting drew Toby's
attention and he was confused by the flush spreading over Elliot's
face as he dropped his gaze from Said's intent stare.  It was 
suddenly obvious to Toby that the only thing keeping Elliot in the 
room was Holly's presence on his lap, and he tucked that little 
piece of knowledge away in the back of his mind like a keepsake.

Luckily, about that time Sister Pete arrived, and Toby gratefully
gestured her in, hoping that introductions would give them all a 
welcome distraction.  She came to his bedside and took his hand, 
nodding hello to Kareem before giving Toby a mischievous smile.

"Tobias, it's so good to see you feeling better.  You were starting
to worry me.  I knew you were stubborn, but this," she gestured to
the monitors behind the bed, "is a bit much even for you."

Toby smiled warmly at her in return.  "Worried, Pete?  You?  I seem
to recall you and Kareem both telling me that worrying is a waste of
time because God holds everyone in the palm of His hands."

"That may be," she replied, "but that doesn't always stop us.
And it certainly doesn't stop us from praying, right Kareem?"

Toby felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and looked up in time to see 
Kareem's nod of agreement.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw
his parents and Holly rising to their feet, and Elliot taking the 
opportunity to edge toward the doorway.  Toby cleared his throat 
loudly, halting his progress.

"Pete, I don't think you've met my parents.  Mom, Dad, this is 
Sister Peter Marie Reimondo.  She's helped Kareem and I with 
several of our cases out at Rikers."

"Oh yes, I remember you mentioning her," Harrison said, then 
turned to the tiny, energetic woman at his son's bedside.
"Actually, I believe I saw you here the other day, but I didn't
realize you were you... uhm, a nun, I mean."

Sister Pete chuckled.  "Well, we don't generally wear the habits
anymore, which kind of throws some people.  Then again, I've been a
psychologist far longer than I've been a nun."  She paused, thinking
a moment, then added, "Of course, I've never been quite sure how 
psychologists are supposed to dress.  It's nice to finally meet 
you..."

"Harrison.  And this is my wife, Victoria."

"If we left it to the boys, we'd be 'Mom and Dad Beecher' to 
everyone," Victoria teased.  

Toby blushed and wished Angus were there to take his fair share of 
the ribbing rather than en route from Oregon, then said, "And I'm 
sure you remember my daughter, Holly."  He grinned as Holly waved 
shyly, then self-consciously backed up into Elliot.  

Sister Pete returned the wave, then added, "Nice to see you again, 
Holly," before looking pointedly at the quiet, handsome man resting
his hands comfortingly on the young girl's shoulders.  She raised
an eyebrow as Toby remained silent, then glanced over and noticed
his eyes riveted on the same scene.  Squeezing his hand to draw his 
attention, she bit back a laugh as Toby blinked a bit dazedly,
then murmured, "Mmm?  Oh, sorry.  Uhm... Pete, this is Detective
Elliot Stabler.  He's... an old friend." 

"From Toby and Kareem's days at NYU," Victoria explained.
 
"Uncle Elliot got daddy to wake up," Holly added, gazing up and
giving her 'uncle' a sunny smile.

Sister Pete heard a small, disgruntled sound come from Kareem's
direction, and the tension level in the room immediately rose
again.

*** 

// Oookay... well, that's certainly interesting, // Sister Peter 
Marie thought, watching the detective's eyes move quickly from 
Kareem to Toby, switching from a hostile glare to an almost wary 
gentleness in a heartbeat.  Feeling Toby's hand tremble in hers, 
she looked down and easily read the weary annoyance in his 
expression.  She wasn't sure yet exactly what was going on here, 
but it was apparent Toby needed a break from it.

A knock on the doorframe interrupted her thoughts and she looked
up to find a young nurse peering in, seeming a bit intimidated by
the number of people crowded into the room.

"Uhm... I hate to interrupt, but it's time for our midday rounds.
If you could all wait in the hallway for a few minutes?"

"Goodness," Victoria said, checking her watch, "Is it that late
already?  Toby, honey, we need to be on our way to the airport.  
Angus's flight is due soon.  But we'll come right back..."

"Actually," Sister Pete said, eagerly seizing the opportunity
presented, "since it's almost lunchtime and this is his first full
day awake, perhaps we should all give Tobias a chance to get some 
rest."

Harrison took a closer look at his son, noticing both his pallor 
and the grateful look he gave the nun.  "Well, Angus will probably
want a chance to relax after that long flight.  What do you say, 
son?  Should we drop back by with your brother after dinner?"

Toby smiled appreciatively. "Sounds good, Dad.  Thanks."

As the elder Beechers muttered soft goodbyes, then stepped back
toward the door, Said gave Toby's shoulder another squeeze.  "I've
got meetings this afternoon and evening, Tobias, but I'll be back
tomorrow."

Toby nodded.  "Things shaping up okay for the big conference?"

"Other than the minor inconvenience of having to find a replacement 
for the best civil rights attorney on the East Coast," Said replied
dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that.  I doubt I'll be up to a trip to D.C.
by next weekend," Toby teased with a chuckle.

Said's smile faded slightly.  "I thank Allah that you're even
here to joke about it."

"You and me both, Kareem," Toby replied softly.

As the imam moved into the hallway, joining Harrison and Victoria's
quiet conversation, Holly moved hesitantly towards the bed with
Elliot in tow, worry evident in the tilt of her pale gold eyebrows.  
Realizing the source of his daughter's concern, Toby leaned forward 
and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Everything's alright, baby.  I just need to take it easy for a few 
days.  Okay?"  Pulling back to see her face, he swayed dizzily,
feeling Elliot's strong hand on his shoulder, steadying him before
guiding him back to the pillows.

"Looks like you need to take your own advice, Toby," Elliot 
murmured wryly, drawing wan smiles from both father and daughter.  
Pulling up the blanket as Holly turned to go, he added, "Get some 
rest, huh?"  

Toby smiled his agreement, then caught Elliot's hand as he started
to follow Holly out of the room.  "Will you be back later?"

"Not tonight," Elliot replied quietly, looking down at Toby's hand 
wrapped around his own, then up into hopeful eyes.  "I'm sure your 
family would appreciate some time alone with you, plus I'm expecting
a call from the kids.  Tomorrow, though, if you want."

"What about work?"

"I've... uh... got some time off."

Toby gave Elliot a curious look.  Time off?  Since when did Elliot
Stabler take time off, other than when something either really good
or really bad happened to a member of his family?  Still, he wasn't
about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Finding that his gaze had
slipped from meeting deep blue eyes down to tense lips, Toby gave
himself a mental shake, then said, "Okay.  Tomorrow, then."  He
felt a brief squeeze of his hand, then Elliot disappeared quickly
into the hallway.

Suddenly noticing that Sister Pete was still at his bedside, Toby
flushed lightly.  "How about you, Pete?  You headed back to
Rikers today?"

Giving Toby a measuring look, Sister Pete said, "Eventually.  But
how about you and I have lunch together first?"

Recognizing the shrewd expression of the psychologist beneath the 
innocent smile of the nun, Toby sighed, "Sure, Pete."  It was 
certainly shaping up to be an interesting first day back.

(tbc)



Subject: FIC: Now and Then/Chapter 5 (SVU/Oz, R, Slash, 3/?)
From: aostara@yahoo.com
Date: Thu, 23 Aug 2001 16:06:11 -0000

Ok folks -- sorry I've been so MIA lately.  Life's been busy.
Here's a tad more of this... I'll have to dedicate my writing 
time to a couple of other projects for the next month or so,
but I do plan to get back to this one after that!  Hell, UST
is in the offing... how can I resist?

Miss you!!
- Star



(see Part 1 for disclaimer and all that stuff)

November, 1982
--------------

Staring out toward the parking lot, Elliot heard the double doors
that led to the examination rooms swing open.  He turned slowly,
grimacing as he saw Toby being wheeled toward him, a sling holding 
the full cast close against his chest.  

// Damn.  I was hoping he'd only need a partial, like I did.
That's going to make life damn difficult for a while. //

"Hey, Elliot," Toby called cheerfully, a careless grin brightening
his otherwise tired expression.

// Oh, yeah.  He's on the good stuff alright. //  "Hey, Toby," he
replied, forcing a smile.  "How're you feeling?"

"Great, at the moment, although I bet this is gonna hurt like a
son of a bitch later.  So, you ready to spring me?"  

"Yeah.  Said's bringing his car around."

Toby tilted his head.  "Kareem?  What's he doing here?"

Elliot shrugged.  "The hospital called him.  And your folks.
You should probably give them a call as soon as you get back to
your place."

"Oh, yeah.  Shit, remind me when we get there, will ya?  Whatever
they've got me on...."  Toby waved awkwardly with his left arm,
nearly banging it against the exit door as the orderly wheeled
him to the curb.

// Well, I guess that settles the question of whether I'm going
with them or not, //  Elliot thought, following close behind.

***

Kareem pulled his 1981 Mercury Cougar sedan up to the curb outside 
the emergency room doors, hoping that Tobias hadn't been waiting 
long in the increasing chilly evening air.  It wasn't until he'd 
reached the parking lot that he remembered his back seat was full 
of boxes -- Nation of Islam pamphlets, treatises and books by Louis 
Farakkan and Malcolm X, copies of the Koran for his study group -- 
and it had taken longer than he'd anticipated to shift them into 
the trunk.  As he switched off the ignition and exited the car, 
it occurred to him that the clean-up would have gone twice as fast 
if he'd driven over and let Stabler help him.  

Disgruntled, he let his irritation color his tone as he watched
the ex-Marine step forward and open the front passenger door.
"So, I suppose this means you're coming with us?"

Elliot glanced back at Toby, then met Kareem's gaze with a carefully
neutral expression.  "He seems to think so."

Kareem walked over to where Toby was smiling gleefully in the
wheelchair, both his tone and face softening in response to his
friend's drug-enduced euphoria.  "Tobias...."

"Hi, Kareem," Toby greeting him breezily.  "And before you ask,
I'm fine.  Cracked up my arm pretty good, but they say I'll be 
out of the cast before Christmas."

"That's good," he replied, his lips curving into a helpless grin.
"Here, let me help you into the car."  

Toby initially waved him off and tried standing on his own, then
leaned heavily into Kareem's side as the effects of the pain 
medication flowed into his knees.  "Whoops!"  His smile turned
sheepish as Elliot stepped forward to support him on the other side.  
"Sorry guys.  That first step is a doozy."  Kareem and Elliot shared 
an amused, sympathetic glance, then manuevered Toby toward the front
seat.  "Nah, nah, nah... I wanna ride in the back.  Let Elliot
ride shotgun."

"Why?" Kareem asked, annoyance creeping into his voice.  It was 
bad enough Toby insisted on bringing Stabler with them; he'd been
counting on at least being able to relegate him to the backseat.

"That shoulder belt does a good enough job strangling me on a good
day.  With this cast...."

Kareem sighed his agreement, motioning with his head for Elliot to 
open the rear door.  Within moments they had Toby settled in, then 
took their seats.  An awkward silence fell over the vehicle as he
started the car and pulled out, and he was grateful that it was a 
short drive to Toby's apartment.

***

Toby let his head loll back against the top of the seat for a few 
minutes, staring up at the dimming sky through the rear window, then 
forced himself to sit back up.  He'd often heard the expression 
'the silence was deafening,' but it wasn't until that moment that he 
realized how true it could be.  Leaning forward, he rested his chin 
on the edge of the passenger seat, close enough to feel Elliot's 
shoulder twitch in surprise when he spoke up.

"You two are awfully quiet."

More silence, punctuated by a hostile sidelong look from Kareem 
and a resigned shrug from Elliot.  Putting two and two together 
-- and coming up with something only slightly in the ballpark of
four, thanks to his medicated state -- Toby frowned, then leaned
farther forward to nudge his head against Elliot's.

"Come on, Elliot -- it was an accident, okay?  No one's blaming
you."   

Kareem let out his breath in a disbelieving huff and Elliot slumped
further into his seat.

"Kareem..." Toby began, a warning evident in his voice.

"We're here," Elliot interrupted quietly.

Kareem scanned the block for parking spaces.  Finding none and
realizing that Toby was in no condition to walk any farther than
necessary, he reluctantly double parked directly in front of the
apartment complex.  "You two should get out here," he said with a
sigh and Elliot eagerly opened his door and climbed out.

"Thanks, Kareem," Toby said, fumbling with the door handle, nearly
tumbling into the street as Elliot opened the door for him.  

Elliot steadied Toby and helped him out of the car as Kareem gave
them both another dark look and said, "I'll find a spot around back 
and join you momentarily."  

(tbc)