Thursday morning Chris was in a foul mood. He'd half-hoped that Joe would be at the house when he got home Wednesday. Maybe Joe would bitch him out the way he deserved, he could apologize, and they could work something out. The possibility of make-up sex occurred, though he wasn't sure he was ready for that, even if Joe hadn't been hurt.

Joe hadn't been there, of course. Toby had cheerfully let him know that he and Aunt Mary had dropped him off at his apartment, then asked when his new Daddy was coming back. It was the closest Chris had come to snapping at Toby since the boy had been born. He'd asked again at breakfast, though Chris couldn't quite bring himself to tell him that his Daddy might not come back. Ever. That wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to.

Steve was sitting at his desk when Chris got in. He was holding a baggie with the harlequin mask. There was an envelope and a DVD on the desk in front of him.

"Morning, Chris," Steve said. His tone was carefully neutral.

"Morning," Chris replied. He was feeling cautious. This wasn't Steve's normal behavior.

"Davidson dropped off some stuff," he said, waving at the collection of things on his desk.

"And it is