Title: What Happens in Oxford Stays in Oxford
Summary: On a trip to Oxford, Lightman and Torres find themselves wrapped up in both a diverting new case and in the personal lives of the local police force. Lewis/ Lie to Me Crossover
Disclaimer: I don't own Lewis or Lie to Me. If I DID own them, I would have found a way made this crossover happen for real. Also, I think I'm setting this during season 1 of Lie to Me and the corresponding season of Lewis (Series 3).
Chapter One
" So you're alright?"
" Are you daft? I've just been mugged! Of course, I'm not 'alright!'" Detective Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent of the Oxfordshire Police shouted into the phone to her husband.
" I know, Jean. I understand that you're a bit shaken right now. I only wanted to ensure that you're okay physically. You are—aren't you?"
" I suppose," she admitted.
Thomas Innocent sighed in relief. "Now, tell me again. What did they take?"
She took a deep breath to calm herself. " My mobile, my handbag which had about 20 pounds cash and all of my credit cards in it. I've already called the phone company and the credit card companies to cancel my accounts."
" Excellent work. Did they take anything else?"
" My earrings, my watch, and…and my rings. Wedding and engagement both. Chris promised he'd search all of the pawnshops in London for me after I return home tonight. I'm also going to look online, but the chances of finding them are slim at best."
" Well, if you don't find them, we can always shop for new rings after I come home at the end of the month," Thomas replied.
" The end of the month? I thought you were returning next week."
There was an uncomfortable silence that Mr. Innocent finally had the courage to end.
" Well…it… turns out that the company needs me to stay a bit longer than previously anticipated."
" I…I see," Jean responded, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She'd never admit it to him, but she'd secretly been hoping that he'd come immediately home after he'd heard what had happened to her. She should have known better. Jean had married Mr. Innocent after all, not Mr. Romantic-and-Impulsive.
It wasn't that Thomas didn't love her; his career just always came first in his life. She recollected the countless business trips that he attended without her and the numerous occasions that he'd canceled his plans with her at the last minute. He always bought her flowers or jewelry to make up for it, and she hadn't the heart to tell Thomas that she didn't want flowers or jewelry; she wanted her husband's company.
" I've been thinking, Jean. Why don't you come down and see me for a few days? Paris is beautiful this time of year."
It was a tempting offer—one that might allow her to alleviate the pervasive anxiety she'd experienced as of late. The press had had a field day with the police's poor handling of the Myles Harrison case. Not only had the Oxfordshire Police failed to realize that the bright young medical student was the arsonist that they were after, but they'd also been made to look like fools when a visiting American psychologist and his young protégé had uncovered the truth. Although Jean Innocent had met neither Cal Lightman nor Ria Torres, she loathed them anyway. Because of their meddlesome snooping, Jean had been subject to an intense hour-long lecture from the chief constable. The lecture had been so bad, in fact, that it had moved her to tears, a rare and unwelcome occurrence for one who prided herself on her ability to keep her personal feelings private.
Yes, a respite was exactly what she needed, and she could think of no place she'd rather spent it than in Paris. Some time with Thomas in the " City of Love" would certainly keep her mind off things. And if all went well, this trip might even repair the strain in her marriage.
But when she really thought about it, she realized that this wouldn't be the case. Whether she was in France or England, she'd continue think about the chief constable's harsh criticism. And where Thomas was concerned, things in Paris would be little different than they would be in Oxford. She'd spend the day alone, trying to amuse herself as she waited for her husband's meetings to let out. Then, they'd have boring conversations about his job over dinner. Finally, they'd go to bed sometime around eleven-thirty.
Thomas usually wanted to go to sleep right away, so that he'd be well rested for work the next morning. If, however, he was facing extreme pressures at work, Mr. Innocent would develop a voracious carnal appetite that he'd expect his wife to satiate, regardless of Jean herself was feeling at the time.
" I'm sure it is, Tom," she said finally. " I'd love to come, but I really feel that I'm needed in Oxford right now."
And she was; she was currently supervising four separate rape cases and three murder cases in addition to countless petty crimes. Besides, she knew that she needed to prove herself to the chief constable soon if she ever wanted to live down the shame of the Harrison case.
" That's a pity; I was hoping you'd be able to come."
That was a surprise. She'd initially assumed that Thomas had asked her, because he felt guilty about abandoning her in Oxford for so long. Could it be that he missed her as much as she missed him?
" You were?" she asked, flushing slightly.
" Yes, I was. A few hours with you in that large, comfortable hotel bed, and I'm sure I'd forget all about the horrendous week I've been having."
Her face fell. Of course. Thomas only wanted her body, and he only wanted that, because he thought a little lovemaking might help him release his career tensions. Jean sighed in frustration. She should be satisfied that he still wanted her and not some other woman, should be flattered that he thought she could help him. But it just wasn't enough.
She longed for the day when he'd finally choose her over everything else in his life, for the day when their intimacy—both physical and emotional—was not solely dictated by how good his day at work had been. More than that, she needed to know that she was special to him, needed to know that he saw her as more than just his means of coping with professional concerns. She decided to take a chance.
" You know that I love you, Tom—don't you?"
" Of course, of course," he replied and then returned the subject to the horrendous week he'd been having.
One Day Later
Dr. Cal Lightman took the glass that the barman handed him and drained it immediately. A moment later, he asked for another and resolved to take his time with this one. He didn't want to get too drunk, even though he was the sort of man who held his liquor well. He took a small sip and thought about his trip to Oxford so far. It hadn't been a complete bust after all; his lecture at a prominent Oxford college today had gone over well, and he and Ria had solved a crime that had been baffling the local police force for weeks.
But Lightman had failed at achieving his one goal. He'd told everyone back in DC that he was going to Oxford, because an old psychology professor had invited him. He hoped they believed them. The trouble about working with a group of human polygraphs was the increased likelihood that someone would guess that Lightman's explanation wasn't the whole truth.
He wondered if Gillian had figured it out. Of all of his colleagues, she'd known him the longest and had always been uncannily aware with his feelings. Sometimes, he felt as though she knew him better than he knew himself.
The thought occurred to him that he was thinking of Gillian again, something he'd sworn not to do. He'd come to England to get away from her and yet he still had not left her. She continued to linger in his thoughts and in his dreams.
What he needed was a distraction, something—or someone ideally—to make him forget about Gillian if only temporarily. He glanced around the pub absently, and his eyes finally locked upon a striking brunette standing by the door.
Just what the doctor ordered.
The woman walked over to the bar and ordered a drink. He took advantage of this opportunity to study her further. She was just as attractive up close as she'd been from a distance—more attractive even, now that he was in a better position to admire her curves. The woman then sat down with her drink on a bar stool a few places away from Lightman. She took a small sip from her glass, and he watched her graceful throat ripple as she swallowed.
Then without turning her head at all, she spoke. " Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?"