Work Text:
December 31, 2017
“I know, I know,” Toby answered his phone without bothering to look at the screen. “You forgot to say we needed bananas.” He leaned over a cart blocking the produce aisle to snag a bunch. “But I remembered anyway. Who’s your baby’s daddy, Happy?”
“You swore to God you were going to stop saying that,” Happy sighed.
“Tell me she hasn’t done anything new since I left,” he whined.
“You’ve been gone 15 minutes, Doc.”
“Feels like days. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Toby said, elbowing his way down the cold cases on the back wall. “This place is a madhouse.”
“I didn’t talk you into it, I said I was going to the supermarket for a few things and you wigged out,” Happy’s disembodied voice came through the phone, accompanying him down the aisle. “And it’s snowing in L.A. for the first time in 60 years. The news dude says it's like this at every supermarket and gas station in town.”
“Oooh, big scoop from the TV guys, pinheads of L.A. flock to supermarkets because city receives a quarter-inch of snow,” Toby mocked. “People are driving out there like they’re in a mass fugue state.” He shook his head. “You people don’t know what winter is. And I’m probably the only jackass in here,” he raised his voice, “who actually needs groceries and isn’t having a hysterical overreaction.”
“If you get your ass kicked in frozen foods, I’m not coming down there to help you,” Happy said.
“Fair enough.”
“If it was going to agitate you so much, you should have just piped down and let me go. Oh, orange juice.”
Toby grinned smugly at the carton in his basket. “I remembered, you poor, poor victim of baby brain. You’ve only been cleared to drive for a few days,” he said. “I don’t want you taking a tumble on a slick sidewalk or a wet floor and hurting yourself just when you’re starting to heal. And you know as well as I do that you would have come in here and bought things that are forbidden.”
“You’re damn right I would have,” Happy said. “Which is the whole reason I wanted to go. I didn’t have caffeine, soft cheeses, spicy tuna rolls or Oreos for nine months. I’m ready.”
“Weirdest grocery list ever.” Toby wound his way down the coffee aisle. “You need to ease back into that stuff, Dollface, especially when you’re breastfeeding.”
“Just get the coffee.”
“No,” Toby smiled at the bag of Happy’s favorite beans as he pulled them off the shelf, intent on surprising her. “Give it another week, Hap.”
“I can make it worth your while, you know,” she flirted.
“Oh, I know,” Toby giggled, heading for the registers. “But you won’t be doing that for another three weeks.”
“Ass,” she sighed.
“Love you, too, babe.” He ended the call and pocketed his phone.
He set the basket on the rotating belt and was engrossed in the back of the coffee label when the voice of the shopper in front of him jarred his concentration.
“Oh, no,” she said. “It’s pretty, to be sure, but this…this is not winter. Not for a New Yorker anyway.”
Toby snapped his head up, continued to watch her as she chatted amiably with the cashier. He didn’t say a word, stunned they’d been standing less than three feet from each other and neither had noticed the other. He laid his fingertips on her elbow.
She stopped speaking abruptly, turned her shoulders, wary at the unexpected physical contact. Her face cycled from caution to recognition to delighted surprise, and something in his chest warmed. “Don’t you have sense enough to wear a coat out in this blizzard?”
She laughed, but it was wound tightly, and her eyes became glassy for a moment. “Toby. I…”
He felt the corners of his mouth curl up. “Hey, Amy.”
He took a half-step forward, one arm extending into a hesitant hug. She pushed her hand forward to shake his, and he tried to transition, resulting in an awkward dance that had them both laughing at their feet. “OK, stop,” she shook her head and extended both arms. “Give me a hug.”
He folded her into his arms, and she propped her chin on his shoulder, just like she used to. It was strange — he’d gotten so used to Happy’s diminutive frame leaning against his chest and latching around his torso. But in an instant he remembered how Amy used to wrap her arms loosely around his neck, rub his shoulderblades with her palms while her chin rested on his shoulder.
He was jarred from a series of memories by a crash at his feet. “Oh, brilliant, Amy,” she said, grabbing one strap of her overturned purse. They both crouched to pick up the spilled contents and banged their foreheads together forcefully.
“Ohhh,” he groaned, leaning one shoulder into the side of the checkout counter as he lifted his hat and rubbed gently at the tender spot.
“Well,” Amy steadied herself against a rack of magazines and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “At least neither one of us is nervous.”
Toby’s face went slack, and he didn’t feel the incredulous snort that rose from his throat until it happened. Before he knew it, they were both laughing hysterically on the floor of the checkout aisle.
A series of loudly cleared throats behind them caused them to hurriedly toss Amy’s belongings into her bag and move through the checkout. “So,” Toby asked as he paid for his groceries and reached for his bag. He nodded at the Starbucks kiosk behind them. “Do you have time for a quick cup of —”
Amy held up a six-pack of Sam Adams. “I have an even better idea. Let’s go enjoy some Southern California winter.”
“Jeez, I can’t believe it, you’re still driving this thing,” Toby squealed. “Hello, Beast!”
“I just can’t part with him,” Amy said. “He was my dad’s, you know?”
“I know,” Toby patted the hood, sending the thin dusting of snow flying, and set his groceries on top. “I just can’t believe it’s still running.”
“Oh, I could have bought a Benz twice over now for what I’ve paid to keeping it running,” she said as she set her groceries in the back seat. “But I can’t buy memories of my dad teaching me to drive stick.” She shook her head. “It’s a maladaptive grief response.”
“Well, just as long as you recognize it, Dr. Cochran,” Toby cooed. “When you decide you’re worth living unburdened in the present, you’ll know exactly where to start letting go.”
“Oh,” she came around to the front of the car with the six-pack in her hands. “You want to practice on each other, Dr. Curtis? When are you going to let go of that ugly-ass security blanket on top of your head?”
“How many times do you need to have it explained to you that this hat is not for me, it’s for others. Idiot normals who need visual aids to understand that,” he gestured to himself as he sat on her front bumper, “they are not dealing with an average guy.”
“I've got news for you, they don't need the hat for that,” Amy handed him a beer.
“Fine,” he tossed the hat to the hood of his car, parked just across the median and one space down, and pulled the cap off the beer.
Amy’s eyebrows raised. “That’s what you’re driving?”
“That Jeep’s the most rugged, manly thing about me,” he took a long sip before moving his hands opposite each other like scales. “I’m not an outdoorsman, but I like the idea that people think I might be.”
Amy giggled. “And you’ve still got a full head of hair.”
“Thank you, Uncle Sy!” Toby shouted to the night sky, snowflakes instantly dissolving into tiny droplets when they hit his skin. “I kept telling you, my father and his brothers may look like cue balls, but it’s the maternal side —”
“Yeah, yeah,” Amy said, tugging at her bottle cap. She nodded at the Jeep. “So I guess the Monte Carlo finally gave up the ghost?”
“Walter murdered it, don’t get me started.” He tipped his beer bottle theatrically and poured some to the asphalt. “Miss you, big guy. Hey, Ames.”
“Hmm?”
“When you’re ready to admit defeat, I’ll open that beer for you.”
“Ugh,” she shoved the bottle at him.
He laughed as he stood and came closer to her. He set his own bottle on the hood. “What is so hard about this for you? It’s all in the physics, and where you apply the pressure. Watch me.” He popped the bottle cap off in slow motion. She took the bottle, then caught his left hand in hers, running her finger along the silver band on his finger.
“So…” she said, hating herself for the pang in her heart. “What’s new?”
Toby smiled softly. “Can you believe it? That’s there’s somebody on the planet willing to put up with me ’til death do us part?” He fiddled with his wedding band.
“Congratulations, Toby,” she smiled. “How long?”
“Almost,” he looked at the sky as he did some mental subtraction, “11 months now. We’ve been together almost two years.”
“What’s her name?”
Toby blinked once, offered her a tiny nervous smile. “It’s Happy.”
Amy’s face went slack. “Happy from work?”
Toby nodded.
“Wow,” Amy said, stunned. “Good for you.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “You know, I always thought you had a little crush.”
“Amy,” Toby's face turned suddenly serious. “Nothing ever, ever…”
Amy put her hands up in surrender. “A crush,” she said, before taking a long sip from her beer bottle. “There's nothing wrong with a crush. So how did it happen? When we last talked, she barely spoke to you at work each day.”
“You know, I don’t know what moved her to do it,” Toby said, rewinding in his mind’s eye. “But it actually changed when we broke up. She kinda became a shoulder for me to cry on — figuratively, of course, because I’m a man. Have you seen my Jeep? I’m very outdoorsy.”
Amy nodded with mocking solemnity.
“Anyway, we became friends. Best friends. And then, one day, somehow, we were more.”
“Ah…she’s the one who initiated. She always had feelings for you, but she kept her distance because you were in a relationship.”
“No way,” Toby huffed. “I take full credit for us.”
“Take all the credit you want, control freak, but she’s the one who made the first move. Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.”
Toby grinned sheepishly. “So…as long as we’re sharing, I guess I should…” he fished his phone out of his pocket. “Meet the best Christmas gift ever.”
Amy gasped as she took the phone from his hands, staring closely at the selfie Toby took of himself, Happy and the baby the day they brought her home. “Oh, my God,” Amy breathed. “Toby…” she closed the distance between them, hugging him tightly, then released him quickly, looking at the phone again. She clapped her hand over her mouth. “She is the most beautiful…”
“Yeah, she looks like her mother, lucky for her.”
“What’s her —”
“Gracie. Grace Madeleine.”
Amy looked up. “Your favorite grandmother.”
“Nana,” Toby nodded. “And Grace is for Happy’s mom, who’s also passed.”
Amy shook her head at the photo. “Look at the three of you. Look at your face,” she turned the screen back to him. “You are so in love.”
“Yeah, you got that right,” Toby smiled at the screen.
Amy took another sip. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but when I saw you, I thought you looked kind of exhausted.”
Toby bent forward with a hearty laugh. “Are you kidding me? I long for exhaustion. I’m only like,” he put his phone back in his pocket and tilted his hand back and forth, “80 percent sure this is actually happening. I mean, bumping into you in the grocery store, and it’s snowing in LA?”
Amy looked skyward, blinking as a few flakes landed on her eyelashes.
Toby took a long pull from his beer bottle, then a deep breath. “Social convention dictates that I should ask how he is,” he sighed.
Amy lowered her gaze to his. “He has a name, Toby,” she chided gently.
“I don’t intend to use it. And I know how much you hate Wimpy Jerkhead—”
“Toby,” she snapped.
“So I’m really taking the high road here, is what I’m saying.”
“Don’t get hostile.”
Toby shrugged. “I could call him Dr. Jerkhead, if that would make you — except, no, wait…I can’t. You married a psychologist.”
“Stop. Now. I’m willing to let you say what you want to say, but I’m not going to let you attack him. He’s my husband, Toby. I was nothing but gracious when—”
“Happy’s never done a thing to you,” Toby said, eyes widening. “You can’t say that about him.”
Amy sighed, looked back to the flakes in the sky. “Still pissed at me, huh?”
“No,” Toby shook his head dismissively, took another drink. “Hell, yes. You should have broken up with me, Amy. I’m not saying I didn't deserve to be left, but that’s not what you did. You waited until I walked in on you two. In our living room. On my sofa.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s what you said that night,” Toby said. “That doesn’t change what it did to me in here,” he pressed two fingers against his temple. “I got rid of that couch, I moved, I found and married the love of my life, and she would never…but almost 5 years later, I still flinch a little,” he poked his fingers into his stomach, “deep in my gut every time I put my key in the front door.” He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging some snow. “I’m not saying I didn’t deserve to get left. But that’s not what you did. You began another relationship, and never bothered to end ours.”
“Toby, I was in crisis,” Amy said. “I was lonely, and brokenhearted, and overwhelmed, and worried about you, and I felt neglected, and like I wasn’t your top priority. Because I wasn’t.”
“I’m not saying I didn’t deserve to lose you, I just…thought I deserved better than to find out like that.”
“You did,” she nodded. “I look back at that night, at my behavior leading up to that night, and it feels like I’m watching someone else. It’s the single thing I’ve ever done that I’m most ashamed of. And I’m sorry for that.”
Toby blinked. Again. “What the hell are we talking about?” he sighed, pulling a hand down his face. There’s no point in opening up these old wounds. It’s ancient history. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I have Happy, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. And you…I mean are you guys…good?”
Amy nodded. “We’re amazing. But I still hope you find it in yourself to forgive me one day, Toby. For yourself, if not for me. You deserve to…not flinch.” She cocked her head. “Breaks my heart to know I’m the reason why.”
Toby puffed his cheeks out as he blew air across the lip of the beer bottle. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” He took the last gulp from the bottle. “Are you still at UCLA?”
“Not a real question, you cyberstalker,” she teased as she handed him another beer. “You know I am.”
“Congratulations on that Behavioral Institute grant, that was…impressive.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But I can’t find a single damn experimental result to support my hypothesis.”
“An unsupported hypothesis is still a valid result,” Toby sang. “You haven’t divorced yourself from your outcome.”
“Shut up,” she sighed, bringing the bottle to her lips.
“Where’s your scientific objectivity, Doc?” he teased.
“I’ll be objective when I get the results I want.”
He laughed. “God, you’re the same. Little things I’d forgotten, but you’re still…same Amy.” He leaned forward, raised his eyebrows. “That’s a compliment.”
“Thank you,” she took another sip. “You’re not. Also a compliment.”
Toby furrowed his brow. “How so?”
She nodded at his black Jeep. “Well, for one thing, you’re not broke anymore. That thing is fully loaded. Sticker price has got to be pushing $40k.”
“You know I negotiated a hell of a deal.”
“Even so. I’ve been cyberstalking you a little, too. Sounds like Scorpion wasn’t as crazy an idea as we thought in the early days. Working with Homeland Security? It’s a far cry from the days when you didn’t know when you’d get paid again.”
“Well, there’s that,” Toby nodded. “But I’m also doing better with my money. I gave up gambling.”
Amy froze. “How long?”
“February will be two years of sobriety.”
Amy exhaled. “Oh, my God.” She looked down, pressed her hand to her face. “Oh, thank God.”
“Amy…” he breathed, stunned.
“I…” she waved him off, swallowing the tears that threatened. “It’s fine, it’s just that I’ve…worried about you. I sorta kept waiting for the day I’d open up the paper and find out you were dead.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, bookies don’t get paid if they kill you?”
“Don’t talk about bookies,” she swiped at her eyes, then pounded on his chest. “I am so. Proud. Of you. What finally did it?”
Toby smiled. “Happy,” he drawled. “I finally loved someone more than I loved the fix. More than I loved myself.”
Amy was silent, picking at the the label on her bottle.
Toby leaned into her line of sight. “Because I was pre-contemplation, Amy, that’s why I couldn’t quit for you. I loved you. Of course I did. I loved you with everything I had to give at the time. But I wasn’t ready to give it up yet. I wasn’t strong enough. And,” he turned his palms out, shook his head. “I know it hurt you, very deeply. Financially, and I still think about that. Emotionally. I wish I could’ve…seen my way clear of hurting you. And I’m so sorry that I did. More than I can articulate,” he gave her a little grin, “and you know that’s saying something. But I wouldn’t undo what I’ve got now for anything. So, do I want the world to burn down around Quincy’s ears? Yeah, pretty much, because that’s the kind of jackass I am. But not if it causes you another ounce of trouble. I want you to be happy. You deserve it. So…you know what? Your apology is accepted. And thank you for offering it. Now stop feeling guilty about it and just go be happy. I want you to be happy.” Toby sneered. “Even if it’s with him.”
“Your apology is accepted, too.” Amy smiled. “I can’t believe you said his name.”
Toby shrugged. “I figured you’d suffered enough.” He watched something flicker across her face as he took another drink. “Hey, what was that?”
She widened her eyes. “Nothing.”
“The hell, nothing. That reminded you of something. Something you wanted to talk about, and then you edited yourself, decided against it. Spill.”
“You always were amazing with non-verbals,” she shook her head, then shrugged. “I don’t…I almost called you. A couple months ago. Actually picked up the phone a couple times. But I…I don’t know, I wasn’t sure I should. I asked you to stop calling me, it seemed…inconsistent.”
Toby shook his head. “Amy, if you need to call me, you call me. What was going on a couple months ago?”
“It was October,” Amy said.
“I’m aware.”
“And I heard about you…I read…”
“Oh,” Toby pulled his feet up on the bumper, fidgeting. “The trial. You always did read the paper cover to cover. I still can’t believe it got coverage. Must have been a slow news week.”
“Mark Collins?” Amy said. “You came home every night moaning and groaning about him. You thought he was nuts.”
“For the record,” Toby raised his index finger. “I stand by that opinion. I just underestimated how nuts.”
Amy crossed her arms. “He…Mark from work, he…tried to kill you?”
“Tried?” Toby laughed as he shifted uncomfortably on the hood of the car. “He damn near succeeded.”
“But…but you were OK?”
Toby met her eyes for the first time since the questions had started. He shrugged. “I was a little banged up, but I was fine.” Amy held his gaze, and Toby finally remembered who he was talking to. “ I was fine, until I wasn’t. There was a lot going on, with me and Happy, me and Walter, and work never stops. Took almost 8 months for it to back up on me, and I didn’t even know what was happening until I was on the brink of completely losing control. I nearly broke…I came damn close to screwing up some things that…would not have easily been fixed.” He shook his head. “All my years of experience, Amy, this Harvard degree…he scrambled my brain like an egg, and it was 8 months before I even knew.”
“Knew, or admitted it to yourself?”
“Touché, Doc.”
Amy sat on the hood beside him. “So what did you do? You’re clearly not in crisis.”
Toby shot her a sideways grin. “I saw Matty.”
Amy’s jaw dropped. “You did not.”
“For several months.”
“I’m in meetings with Matt…God, a couple times a month?”
“Well, it’s good to know he takes patient privacy seriously. Anyway,” Toby shrugged, looked across the parking lot. “It’s turned out to be the gift that keeps on giving. I didn’t tell anyone outside of the firm when it happened, but now, since the trial,” he sighed. “Since I testified, since it got a little coverage…people have come out of the woodwork to see just how crazy I’ve gone, 18 months after the fact.”
Amy shook her head, staring at his face intently. “I know they're probably saying all manner of stupid things, but they're just trying to tell you that they care. And you’re not crazy.”
“I know.”
“I’m saying,” Amy said. “I’m looking at you right now. You’re not crazy.”
Toby shifted his eyes to hers. “I know.”
“Did you work with Matty during the trial? If you don’t mind my asking?”
Toby nodded. “Gracie was on the way, and I…nothing was going to take this time away from me. Nothing. So yeah, I wasn’t fine. I am now. And, eventually, he’ll be up for parole, and Matty will be hearing from me again. Maybe. In the meantime,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket, lit up the picture of his family. “I am so much better than great.”
“You should get back to them,” Amy laid her hand on his arm.
“You should take what’s left of your beer and go home.”
Toby stood, scooped his bag of groceries off the hood. “You could’ve called, Amy.”
“Maybe next time, I will.”
“Hope so.” His phone chirped. “Oh, no,” he said robotically. “Happy would like sweet barbecue popcorn. I guess I’ll have to go back inside.” He pulled the popcorn out of the grocery bag with a grin.
“You still love being right,” Amy laughed.
“Now that will never change.” He pressed his lips together. “You take care of yourself.”
“You, too, Toby.” A quick kiss on the cheek, not at all awkward this time, and she got behind the wheel, rolled her window down. “Remember this sound?” she grinned as she cranked the car.
“How could I not?” he laughed, shook the snow off his jacket. “Good to see you again, Beast.”
“It was good to see you, Toby,” Amy said.
“You, too,” Toby smiled. “Hey, Ames?” he called as he walked around the front bumper.
“Yeah?”
He patted the hood. “Sometimes a car is just a car. Next time the beast breaks down, let it go. You’ll always have your dad.” He hooked his thumb back at his car. “And take it from me, change is a good thing.”
“Just bill my insurance for the therapy session,” she winked and put the car in gear. “You look happy, Toby. You look…exhausted, but really happy. You keep your eye on the ball,” she pointed to the phone in his hand. “And stay happy.”
Toby plucked his snow-covered hat off the hood of his Jeep, shook it out, plopped it on his head and mock saluted. “You got it.”
“Maybe I’ll bump into you again in another five years or so,” she grinned.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
He watched as her tail lights pulled onto the street and out of sight. “Happy,” Toby breathed to himself, nodding. His phone rang, and he smiled at the screen. “Happy,” he said again, and answered the call. “Hey, Hap.”
“I am confident enough in our couple power to let you stand around in the grocery store talking to your ex-girlfriend,” Happy snarked. “But if you don’t bring my popcorn home, I’m gonna kill you. It’s not on the blacklist.”
“For you, beloved, all the popcorn on Earth,” he flinched when a raindrop hit him. “And it looks like the L.A. Blizzard of ’17 is officially over. Now it’s just cold rain.”
“If it will make you stop bitching about it not being winter, I’m all for it,” Happy teased. “I think Gracie’s going to be ready to go down soon. When are you coming home?”
“Right now,” he climbed into the car. “Miss my girls. And I hope you’re in the mood for coffee, because you know I can deny you nothing.”
“Oh, Doc,” she grinned. “I knew I loved you.”
Toby let his head drop back against the headrest, watched the rain pelt his windshield, taking the snow with it. “Love you more, Happy.”