Chris had walked over to Stabler's, so he was walking back, the slightly chilly air of New York a change from California, and his red cheeks from the wind had warmed by the time he got to Toby's, the cigarette he had started at Chris' just winding down. It wasn't a long walk, really, port key to port key. Nice to know a person's bitch was within walking distance.
That thought made him smile as he headed into Toby's house, kicking off his boots and removing his coat as he headed into the living room, spotting Toby under all his legal shit. Really, Chris liked that Toby was putting this much effort into his work. Meant the guy wanted to live, to settle, to work, all good things. As long as it meant he wanted to do those things with Chris around, he was ecstatic.
"Hey Beecher," He sat down in the chair, smiling like the cat who ate the canary-or made the canary his bitch, whatever.