A/N: Sorry so short again! Just punching them out where I feel they end nicely :-)

CHAPTER EIGHT

"I'm going to ask you one more time," Jeff Cody began, assessing Toby over the beer pong table. "Where were you last night?"

"Give it up, dude," Andy Lancaster protested. "He's not budging."

"I told you, I crashed at a friend's place," Toby insisted, busying himself by setting the red solo cups out. It wasn't a lie, really – Hanna was his friend, and it was just as much her apartment as Spencer's.

"And I call bull shit on that," Cody retaliated. "I think you hooked up with your ex-girlfriend."

Toby rolled his eyes. "If I did, it wouldn't be any of your business."

"You totally did!" Cody declared, slamming his hands triumphantly on the table.

Toby felt trapped by this accusation. "It's none of your business," he repeated.

"Cavanaugh, you dog," Lancaster laughed. "After all this time and she's still interested. You got lucky, dude."

Toby smiled slightly. He knew that Lancaster was right – he had been fortunate that Spencer had still harbored the same feelings as she did in high school. He would have admittedly been heartbroken if she hadn't.

He had never stopped loving her, and had known deep down that it wasn't the end. If, after running into her at the bar – after all of the vows he made to win her back – she didn't still love him, he wouldn't have known how to process the information.

"So what happened?" Cody pressed, smirking mischievously.

Toby rolled his eyes. "I never took you for a gossip queen, Cody."

"It is what it is," Cody replied simply. "When my friends get laid by hot girls, I like to know details."

Toby cringed at Cody's description of "hot" in reference to Spencer. He was not comfortable with this opinion in the slightest.

"Well, you won't get any." Toby trained his eyes on the beer pong table, hoping for someone to change the subject.

"Well – was it good?" Cody demanded.

Toby stopped with the cups, raising his eyes to send a warning glare in Cody's direction. "This discussion is over."

"I mean," Cody amended quickly, sensing that he had crossed a line, "are you guys getting back together?"

"I don't know," Toby said quietly, studying the cups with intensity. "I'd like to think so."

"You don't sound so sure about her," Cody observed. "Well, do me a favor and let me know what you decide."

"Why?" Toby demanded.

Cody shrugged. "She's cute. And if things don't work out…"

The plastic cup in Toby's hand was crushed as he dangerously tightened his fists.

"It's not going to happen, man," Derek Holmes quipped. "That violates the bro code in so many ways. Let it go."

"Fine, fine," Cody resigned, tossing a practice Ping-Pong ball into one of Toby's solo cups. "Just a thought."

"Well I think it's best if you just stop thinking all-together," Lancaster laughed. "For your own good."

"I'll start filling the cooler," Toby decided, anxious for an out. As he began heading for the garage, he attempted to calm the boiling blood in his veins. Though Cody was a brother in arms, and his friend, he certainly had a way of pissing Toby off better than anybody in his life ever had.

He stopped at Holmes's Mazda, leaning on the hood to steady his breathing. He attempted to remind himself that Cody was all talk; he was a classic guy, after all – he was driven entirely by his own libido. He didn't stop to think whether his lust was offensive to anyone around him.

But he should have probably started to get the point a long time ago.

The garage door opened behind him, squeaking on its hinges. Toby immediately collected himself and set off to finish his task.

"You cool, man?" It was Holmes. As usual.

"You know," Toby began slowly as he unearthed the cooler from a utility shelf, "he needs to learn to keep his dick in his pants if he wants to continue having it."

Holmes chuckled and leaned against his Mazda thoughtfully. "You know how he gets, man. He wants most what he can't have."

Toby laughed bitterly. "I always knew Cody had a thing for unavailable girls. But I guess I never took it personally before because mine was never the target."

"Well," Holmes began quietly, "you were never with anyone. Since we've known you."

Toby digested the gravity of this statement. He was right – Toby had only gone on a handful of casual dates since he and Spencer had broken up. And the primary reason for that, even, was a desperate attempt to take his mind off of her. It never quite worked…which somewhere deep down, he had instinctively known all along.

"I guess I'm just learning who my friends are," Toby decided finally, as he heaved a ten pound bag of ice out of the freezer.

"You know that if it came down to it, he would have your back," Holmes said. "It's what we do."

"I hope so," Toby muttered. He knew that his statement probably went unheard by Holmes over the clatter of ice being dumped into the cooler.

"And if he didn't," Holmes continued, "I definitely would."

Toby looked at him thoughtfully, truly studying his demeanor and sincerity. Derek Holmes was one of the few black men in his unit, having hailed from Savanna, Georgia. He was small in stature, but hid his power well.

Toby recalled that during basic training, a cocky soldier with arms built like tree trunks had been giving him a hard time. The soldier, Lewis, had crossed the proverbial line when he tripped Toby one day in the DFAC, causing him to spill his entire tray of lunch. He had sat there dejectedly on the floor for a minute, realizing that he had made a grave mistake in leaving Rosewood.

Holmes had calmly walked up to Lewis. "What do we have here?" he had asked.

Lewis balked at his arrival, appearing inexplicably intimidated. "Just having some fun with the new guy…"

"I see," Holmes had declared darkly. He and Toby locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity before Holmes orchestrated his next move. "It seems we've wasted some perfectly good chow. That's a shame."

Lewis gulped.

Holmes turned back to him, crossing his arms over his uniformed chest. "Waste not, want not. Right, Lewis?"

Lewis shook his head in confusion.

"You heard me," Holmes declared. He grabbed Lewis by the forearm and easily lifted him from his seat. Lewis stumbled clumsily onto the floor, beside Toby. "There are children starving in China."

"No…" Lewis began nervously, staring at the grimy floor of the dining facility. "Holmes, come on…"

"Eat it," Holmes commanded. "Before I make you."

Lewis hovered over the spilled food in consideration. Toby could see in his eyes that the wheels were turning rapidly in his brain. He feared what would come next.

It all happened in a flash. Lewis turned quickly to strike Holmes in the stomach; Holmes easily blocked his punch and retaliated by twisting Lewis's throwing arm behind his back and using this leverage to force him back to the ground. Carried away, he began slamming Lewis's face into the food on the concrete floor repeatedly until he heard the cartilage in his nose crack. Toby backed away from the pool of blood forming at his knees.

The commander had broken up the tussle. Holmes was confined to solitary holding for two days and assigned K.P. for the remainder of the week. But since then, Toby and Holmes had formed an inexplicable bond. He was the only soldier that got assigned to the same unit as Toby following basic training. And Toby was eternally grateful for that fate.

When Holmes said he had his back, Toby knew he meant it.

"What's on your mind?" Holmes inquired, jarring Toby from his recollections.

"Nothing really," Toby offered quietly. He paused. "Thanks, man."

Holmes chuckled and clapped Toby on the back. "Don't thank me yet. We have yet to see if he even tries to pull any bull shit."

Toby smiled appreciatively.

"Don't worry, man," Holmes continued. "If he so much as looks at Spencer the wrong way, we'll teach him a lesson."

"If he so much as looks at her the wrong way, his eyes are going to be gauged out," Toby vowed irritably.

Holmes laughed. "You've come such a long way from the kid I met in basic."

Toby chuckled, finding it ironic that he had been thinking about this only moments before.

"You know how to hold your own, now," Holmes complimented. "You don't need my help the way you used to."

"I never needed your help," Toby protested good-naturedly. "I had it handled."

Holmes rolled his eyes. "Right. Just like you had it 'handled' when you were getting constantly butt-hurt by Lewis."

Toby found himself grateful that Holmes had as clear of a memory of the incident as Toby did. It felt nice to know that the event had taught him something, too.

"I hear Lewis got discharged," Holmes added. "Drugs."

Toby laughed bitterly. "Doesn't surprise me."

"Karma, my man," Holmes added. "Now let's get this shit back in the house before they send a search party," Holmes decided as he began assisting Toby with the cooler.

TO BE CONTINUED