A/N And so we find ourselves in the midst of Season 6. I think it's time we caught up with Robbie and Laura, and a certain DI Peterson... This takes the form of a sequence of vignettes and additional scenes. Again, extended italicised texts denotes quotes from the original series. The rest is my imagination. Lewis belongs to Colin Dexter. I'm just taking Robbie and Laura out to play a little more.
"You going to see a doctor about your face?" Hathaway enquired. "S'Just a little bump," Robbie demurred. "I'm sure Dr. Hobson would take a look at it," Hathaway continued. "Funny," remarked Robbie wryly. "Or do you have to be dead first?" Hathaway wondered aloud as they got into the car. James clearly thought he was so dry, Robbie mused though Laura was probably going to have something to say about the state of his face.
Laura was stood outside the cottage, scene suit tied around her waist, examining a prescription bottle whilst the body was loaded into the private ambulance. Robbie came out onto the street, touching his thumb to his sore lip as he did so. "In the bathroom. Painkillers," Laura said as he stopped next to her, and she handed him the evidence bag. "Bottle of these. Half a bottle of vodka. Lie on the bed. Fade out." Laura said. "So it is suicide?" Robbie said, turning the bottle over in his hand. Laura gave him a knowing look. "Don't jump the gun, Inspector," she replied tartly before looking at him more closely. "Hey, what have you done to your face?!" Laura asked incredulously. "Haven't you seen the telly? How me and Hathaway took down the notorious Jones drug cartel of Sheepridge?" Robbie replied amiably, and Laura looked bemused. "You were on the television? Can't believe I missed it," Laura replied. "Ah, well, my fifteen seconds of fame, mate," Robbie mused. Laura gestured to the ambulance behind them. "She had her fifteen seconds too, wrote a book back in the nineties. How women could survive without men. It was quite influential," Laura said and they began to walk back up towards the cordon. "Did it influence you?" Robbie enquired, glancing down at her and Laura pulled a face. "Nah, course not. I came to *that* conclusion years ago," she replied, giving him a knowing look and he grinned, watching her walk back up the street.
"I am not terribly impressed by this, you know," Laura chided as she tended to Robbie's wounds and he grimaced. Laura wasn't sure whether it was her chastising or her treatment he was flinching at, if she was perfectly honest. Laura soaked a further pad in warm water, and gently wiped the last of the blood away. She dried off her hands, and then the last bit of Robbie's injured face before sitting back on her heels and considering him. "There, that's better," she said decisively, and Robbie slid his hand around her waist and tugged her closer for a kiss. "Thank you," he murmured and she cupped his cheek gently and kissed him lovingly. "You are most welcome, sweetheart," Laura replied and Robbie smiled broadly at her. "Saved A&E a job," Laura used, packing her kit away and Robbie chuckled. 'And me some paperwork," he agreed and Laura rolled her eyes. "You still haven't explained how you came to be involved in all of this," Laura reminded him and Robbie smiled wryly. "Not sure I'm allowed to say but you can blame Jean Innocent," he replied and Laura arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Oh don't you give me that look," Robbie replied, amused and Laura snorted in disdain before locking her kit bag. She pushed it to one side and came to sit back on the sofa next to him. She picked up her mug of camomile tea and took a big sip from it. "You staying?" she enquired and he glanced at her hopefully. "If you want me to?" Robbie replied and Laura smiled to herself before glancing at him affectionately. "Of course," she replied cheerfully and he grinned at her.
Laura came back into the mortuary to find Robbie considering the corpse she'd just finished the post mortem on, as though he were waiting for her. "Hi Robbie," Laura said amiably as she came into the mortuary "What are you doing here?" "I was just… I wanted to know if you were ruling suicide?" Robbie replied. "Why, have you found anybody who might have wanted to murder her?" Laura asked. "Not really. Just a very rich man who didn't like her at all," Robbie replied as Hathaway sauntered into the room. "Or someone who was very keen to remove all trace of him or herself from her house," James continued and Laura glanced at him "but left their fingerprint on the answerphone's eject mechanism." Robbie considered his sergeant. "Any matches?" Robbie asked. "No, but it's something we can scare people with," Hathaway replied. "What people?" asked Robbie in a weary tone "she didn't know anyone." Back in her office, Laura mused over Robbie's reaction to this case. He seemed unusually keen to have her verdict, and now that she'd been promoted, it would be her call. She wondered why he was quite so struck by this particular victim.
"Ah, Robbie," Laura appeared as he got out of the car and he turned towards her as he put his jacket back on. "I need to talk to you," Laura continued. "I've just been to an internet dating site," Robbie told her and she stopped and looked at him very seriously. "Meet someone nice?" she enquired dryly. "I said to, not on," he rebuked "and it was for work, not the other." Laura raised an eyebrow. "Glad to hear it," she replied "not that there's anything wrong with the other." They began to walk back down towards the station together. "Over 20% of all married couples now meet on the internet, or so I'm reliably informed by the magazines at my hairdressers," Laura mused. "Going online, exposing yourself to millions of strangers, I dunno," Robbie replied. "Well, don't knock it til you've tried it," Laura retorted, chewing her lip. "You haven't?" Robbie said incredulously. Laura scoffed. "A single woman, my age, any age. What are we supposed to do? Hang around in bars, like…." Laura tried to come up with a meaningful analogy in response to this unanticipated no holds barred assessment of her romantic history. "Like lumberjacks?" Robbie suggested and Laura frowned. "Exactly," she replied, though that wasn't exactly the word she'd been searching for. "Online, you can reveal yourself relatively painlessly," Laura continued, as the door opened and a man she didn't recognise strolled out. "Ah Lewis, I, um, saw you on telly," the man said and Robbie looked unimpressed. "Good stuff," he continued, patting Robbie's shoulder, before passing between them. Laura seemed to catch his attention though, as he turned back to them. "I'm sorry, we, er, we haven't met," he said, holding his hand out to a slightly bemused Laura. "I'm kinda the new boy around here," he continued as Laura shook his proffered hand, under Robbie's disdainful glance. "Alan Peterson," he finished and Laura smiled. "Laura Hobson," she replied "got any dead or mutilated bodies, I'm your girl," she said warmly. "I'll bear that in mind," he replied, before turning and heading out to the car park. Robbie gave Laura a very knowing glance, and they turned and headed into the station together.
"Anyway, the reason I was looking for you was Miranda Thornton," Laura said. "Oh, please, tell me she was murdered," Robbie said with an unusual level of vim. Laura frowned. "Is that what you want?" she asked warily. "It's not what I want," Robbie replied, swiping his access card and opening the door "but in comparison to the idea that her life was so unbearable she decided not to wake up again…" A constable pushed past them and they continued down the corridor together. "Well, the jury's still out, I'm afraid," Laura replied "blood alcohol was high, stomach contents confirm the ingestion of painkillers, certainly enough to kill her." Robbie followed her through the door. "So why's the jury still out?" he asked. "There was some odd material in her lungs," Laura explained "spores and fragments of herbs. Sage, rosemary, thyme." "Sounds like Scarborough Fair," James observed as he appeared at Robbie's shoulder. They both glanced at him. "Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, remember me to one who lives there," James continued. "Yeah, never mind that," Robbie said dismissively. "So you're saying that Miranda was sniffing herbs?" he asked Laura "nobody inhales rosemary?" "You do if you've been listening to too much Simon and Garfunkel," James noted and Laura glanced up at him, unimpressed. "I'm trying to have a sensible conversation," Robbie said to James, gesturing towards Laura. "The fact is I don't know what it means. We're doing some more tests," Laura said levelly "but until then…" She made an exasperated expression, and then turned to carry on back through the offices. "Was I interrupting something?" James asked. "Yes," said Robbie, reluctantly watching Laura go. "So, what have you been doing?" He turned his attention to James.
"Scarborough bloody fair!" Robbie exclaimed, pulling out his phone. He hit a preset number and the call. "You still at work?" he asked, and James realised it must be Laura. Interesting, that she was one of his pre-sets. And noted. "You know me, party party," Laura replied wearily, still sat in the lab, reviewing one of the recent reports. "Miranda Thornton's lungs," Robbie said and Laura frowned. "Herb fragments, parsley, sage. Was there anything else in there, like, I dunno, food? Breadcrumbs? Flour?" Robbie asked. Laura's expression deepened to astonishment. "How on earth did you know that?" she asked. "I didn't," Robbie replied "am I right?" He looked hopeful, James noted. "Not about the lungs," Laura replied, reaching for the report, "but I found in the tracheal cilia herb spores, bread fragments, sugar crystals." "Right," said Robbie "she'd have to inhale all that, wouldn't she? But if she had something like a plastic bag, a shopping bag over her head, would that explain it?" Laura frowned, closing her eyes as she tried to reply properly. "Well, yes, but it…" Laura began but he cut her off. "That's what Mitchell was dumping, the plastic bag," Robbie said to James "the murder weapon!" "But hang on," James countered "What about the booze and the pills? And the lack of a struggle?" Laura tried to interject. "My questions exactly," she said. "It can all be done after death," Robbie said "mix the painkillers with the alcohol, pour it down her throat, rearrange the body, tidy up, head for home. Thanks Laura!" "Robbie, wait," Laura said, as he hung up. "Robbie?" Laura sighed in exasperation. "You still don't know it was a plastic bag," James reminded him. "Not yet," Robbie replied.
Robbie's car, and indeed James' were both still in the car park when Laura walked out to her car. It was really late, and at another time she might well have called Robbie and suggested they have drinks, or that they both retire to hers or his but tonight after he'd cut her off so abruptly, she couldn't be doing with it. She was tired. It had been a very long day. And all she wanted was some dinner, a large glass of red and her bed. In that order.
"Until I hear a recording of David Connelly talking about electric cars for fifty minutes, he's a suspect," Robbie declared as he and Hathaway reviewed the case board. Neither of them hear Laura walk up behind them. "No he's not. Your theory's rubbish," Laura said definitely. "Mm, thanks very much. Which theory?" Robbie enquired, nonplussed. "That she was murdered. I did check. From the levels of alcohol and co-proxamol in Miranda's blood, the painkillers were not ingested post mortem. She was alive when she took them," Laura said. "Then who put the bag over her head?" Robbie exclaimed and Laura shrugged. "She did," she replied. "What, pills, booze and a bag?" Robbie asked. "With pills and booze, there's no guarantee that you won't throw up or be discovered before they've worked. The bag guarantees it," Laura said. "That's just speculation," Robbie said dismissively, turning away from Laura. But she wasn't going to let that slur go. "No, Robbie, it's deduction based on facts," Laura said animately, stepping in front on him so that he had to look at her. "My version explains the absence of struggle in the house, injury to the body. Your version's just a fantasy," she exclaimed. "I am here, you know," James reminded them, lolling back in his chair and watching them argue. "I could go…" he offered and Laura glared at him. "You stay," Robbie said, gesturing at him before turning back to Laura. "So you're ruling suicide?" he asked. "I'm ruling an open verdict," Laura replied. "Then you're still not certain!" Robbie protested. "I believe she killed herself," Laura said, not enjoying this conversation one bit. "You believe a brilliant woman killed herself because of some internet video? Wouldn't she fight? Try and find out who leaked it, instead of just giving up?" Robbie argued and Laura fixed him with a look he knew and did not like. "You'll have my report in two hours," she said tersely, before walking away and out of the office.
Honestly, James thought. he did not have the first clue what was going on between Hobson and Lewis. Clearly, clearly, the two of them were more than friends. That much was apparent to anyone with eyes. He knew Hobson and Lewis were close. Lewis had moved on from ignoring his jibes to veritably rolling his eyes. and James was beginning to enjoy teasing his boss. And this afternoon would have been funny if it hadn't been downright baffling. It might as well have been a full on marital row. Now there was a thought. Hobson and Lewis married. Though, James mused, Hobson did seem to understand his boss in a way that really no one else did. And she always had. As long as the three of them had worked together, Hobson and Lewis had clicked in a way that no one else matched. If you considered the interactions between CID and the Forensic Pathology service, the Hobson-Lewis dynamic was unrivalled. And it was a great partnership to observe. He'd learnt a lot from watching Laura deal with his boss. Mind you, he'd also learnt a lot from hearing about the dressings down she'd given various of their colleagues and he was relieved he'd not been on the receiving end of many of them. Fortunately he'd rarely fallen foul of Dr. Hobson. James wondered how long it would take word of their almighty row to get back to the Chief Super. If James was unlucky he was going to get called in to account to Innocent and this was a prospect he did not relish one bit.
Fancy a drink? Lx
Robbie considered his phone, before tapping it on the desk and then standing up.
"Now?"
"Sounds good? Meet you out the front of the station?"
"There in five x"
As Laura waited for Robbie to bring them their drinks, she couldn't resist flicking through the file. She hastily set them back on his side of the table, hoping he hadn't noticed as he reappeared with a pint in one hand and her G&T in the other. He flashed her a smile as he approached the table, before setting her drink down in front of her. "Thanks," she began "and thanks for meeting me." Robbie raised his pint "Pleasure," he replied "cheers." He took a sip and Laura sighed, barely audibly. "Sorry, Robbie, I was being a real cow," she said, looking at her hands and then at him. "My fault," Robbie said easily "wanting something to be true and not waiting for all the facts." Laura glanced at the file on the table. "Think you've got them now?" she enquired, before sipping her drink. "Ah, no," Robbie replied "but she's dead, and we move on." Laura laid her hand on the file carefully. "But not if you're taking her home with you," she reminded him. Robbie set his pint down, and moved his hand nearer to Laura, gently caressing her wrist with his fingertips in a way that made Laura's heart ache slightly. "She took a risk," he said "looked at her life, tried to change it. She got destroyed." Laura's expression lightened. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't take a risk," she replied, tilting her head slightly, and they smiled at each other. "Lewis! Laura, I didn't know you came here. It's my favourite pub. You don't mind if I..?" Peterson gestured that he could sit with them. Robbie looked up at him, and inwardly Laura sighed. "Not at all," she said quickly. 'Ah, great, thanks" Peterson replied, sitting down between them. "Ah, Oxford on a summer's evening. Is there a lovelier place in the world?" he enquired, smiling broadly at Laura, and Robbie glowered at him. "Not a one," Laura replied. "Where were you before?" she enquired. "Oh, Sunderland, it's not exactly…" Peterson began but Robbie cut him short. "Steady. No slandering the North East," he said warningly, to Laura's great amusement. "Sorry, my lips are sealed, cheers," Peterson said hurriedly as Laura chuckled. Robbie looked as if he'd rather be drinking almost anywhere else.
After another gin and tonic, Laura decided she'd had enough. She drained the remainder of her drink, and stood up. "Right, sorry to be rude Alan, but Robbie and I have another engagement, and we need to head off. Otherwise we'll be late," she announced and Robbie considered Laura. Not that he knew exactly what she was up to but to be honest, he'd had enough of Peterson, and if Laura was offering him a way out, he was definitely going to take it. "Aye," he replied "let's be off love," he replied as he scooped up the file from the table. "Right. See you tomorrow." Peterson replied, looking confused, and Laura looped her jacket over her arm. Robbie held the door for her, and they ducked out of the pub together. As they made their way along the river path back towards Laura's, Robbie tucked his arm around Laura and she leant into him. "You're a lifesaver," he murmured, kissing the top of her head affectionately and Laura giggled. She tucked her arm around his waist and sighed heavily. "I couldn't bear another drink with him," she owned and Robbie chuckled. "Can you bear another with me?" he asked lightly and Laura stopped still. "Always, Robbie," she replied gently and Robbie considered her. "I don't deserve you," he owned and Laura smiled to herself. "Perhaps not," she murmured. "Definitely not," Robbie replied. Laura tiptoed up and Robbie ducked his head so that he could kiss her. Laura sighed happily as he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Rarely did they throw caution to the wind and Laura didn't think he'd ever kissed her like this in public, at least not in Oxford. "Let's go home, my love," he murmured and she smiled. "Come on then," Laura said, and Robbie took her hand in his as they made their way back to hers. "He isn't terribly observant, Peterson, is he?" Laura mused and Robbie laughed. "Mmmm," he replied warily and Laura studied his expression. "Oh, so I see you haven't warmed to him," she said, amused and Robbie smirked. "That's probably fair," he replied and Laura smiled to herself. "He seems to have taken a shine to you," Robbie observed and Laura shook her head. "Well, he doesn't take a hint, does he?" she replied and they exchanged a look. "Oh, don't you come over all green-eyed on me Robbie Lewis," Laura said in a derisory tone and Robbie shook his head. "You're fine, lass," he said and she glanced up at him. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Robbie," Laura reminded him and he drew her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I mean it, Robbie," she said and he kissed the side of her head. "Alright," he murmured and she nestled into him a little more as they strolled. The light was beginning to fade as Robbie and Laura began to stroll down Laura's street. Laura rooted for her house keys and then let them into her house. Robbie shut the front door behind them and Laura flicked on the living room light. The light streamed into the hallway and Laura felt Robbie's hands slip around her waist, drawing her back against him. Laura smiled to herself, arching her neck as his mouth traversed her skin. Robbie held her firmly against him as he nuzzled the curve of her shoulder and Laura sighed very softly, in a way he knew meant she was contented. "Let me take you to bed," Robbie murmured between kisses and Laura smiled to herself. "Someone's awfully possessive tonight," she replied and he chuckled against her skin. "Someone missed you, and hasn't had the pleasure of your company in his bed for a few nights," Robbie reminded her and Laura leant her head against his affectionately. "My love," Robbie murmured against her ear and she turned in this arms. "Come on then," Laura said and he grinned "though surely it's a little early to be turning in for the night?" Laura mused, and Robbie chuckled.
"Beaten to death, skull crushed by three or four blows," Laura told them as they approached Bryony's body "by that." Laura gestured at the scaffolding pole, marked out with a scene number. "Which presumably, came from there?" Robbie pondered the adjacent scaffolding. "Mmm," Laura replied "her purse and her phone are missing. Robbie glanced at her. "She could have been mugged?" he suggested, glancing back at Hathaway who was decidedly out of sorts. Hathaway turned and walked away from them. "Could it have been a mugging?" Robbie asked Laura. "It's hardly my job to say," she replied. "Any idea when?" Robbie asked, putting his hands on his hips. "Sometime last night," Laura replied "and from the lividity, it was done here." Laura glanced back over to James. "Is Hathaway okay?" she asked, and Robbie shook his head.
A touch at his elbow made James turn. "Sergeant Hathaway," Laura said quietly and James sighed heavily. One of Laura's staff had got the corpse of the young girl out for him, turned down the cloth so that he could see the remnants of the injury which had cost her life. And he'd been staring at her for more than a few minutes now. "Come on James," Laura said softly, stepping in front on him and gently replacing the cloth over the girl's face and then turning back to James and looking up at him. Good grief, he was lanky. Laura barely reached his shoulder. Fortunately, what she lacked in stature, she made up for in rank and she had no qualms in steering the young man out of the mortuary and into their staffroom, further along the corridor. Laura washed her hands quickly, towelling them dry and then flicking the kettle on to boil. James didn't sit down and Laura leant back against the counter. "James, sit down," Laura counselled and he shook his head. "This isn't your fault, James," Laura said and he rounded on her. "Don't make me remind you of the extent to which I outrank you, Sergeant," Laura said tartly before he could utter a word, and James flinched. Laura turned and dropped tea bags into two mugs, before pouring boiling water over them. She added milk to both mugs, and then allowed the tea to stew a little longer. She took the tea bag out of hers, and then James' before passing him the mug. "You drink too much coffee," she told him and he made an expression which might have been an attempt at a smile but manifested more as a grimace. "Sit there, drink your tea. You may not leave until I'm convinced you've calmed down," she informed him and he looked up at her. "Don't try your luck, Sergeant. I am not at all in the mood," Laura continued and James dropped his gaze. Laura picked up her mug, and walked back to her office. About fifteen minutes later, there was a rap on her door and Laura glanced up to find James leaning against her door frame. "Thank you for the tea, Dr. Hobson," he said politely and she smiled at him. "Better?" she enquired kindly and he nodded. "Thanks Laura," James said and she nodded.
"Oh bloody hell," Laura said when she saw the screen over the shoulder of one of the lab techs. He looked at her, perplexed. "Oh good grief, you do know those two are ours?" Laura said and he shrugged. Anne Marie had come to investigate the cause of her boss's annoyance, and winced when she saw the screen. "Goodness. What a nightmare," she observed "are they even going to be allowed home?" Laura shook her head. "Doubt it somehow," she replied. "Well, hope they've got somewhere to crash. Can't say I fancy protective custody much myself," Anne Marie mused and a thought occurred to Laura. "If anyone is looking for me," she said as she headed back into her office "I've gone to see the Chief Super."
Laura took a deep breath and rapped on Jean Innocent's door. "Come in," came the response, and Jean looked up to find Laura looking a touch bemused. "I hope you won't mind," Laura began and Jean considered the woman in front of her. "I assume you've seen the debacle that DI Lewis and DS Hathaway seem to have got themselves into?" Laura said and Jean nodded. "Oh yes," she replied dryly. Laura held up her house keys. "Robbie and I are old friends. If he needs somewhere to hide out for a few hours, or whatever, he and Hathaway are welcome to my place. There's coffee in the machine, beer in the fridge," Laura continued and Jean flashed her a smile. "That's kind, Dr. Hobson. I assume Robbie knows your new address?" she enquired and Laura bit her lip. Oh Jean, she thought, if only you knew… "He does, but I've written the details down here, along with the code for my alarm," Laura said and Jean nodded. "I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture, as do I," Jean said and Laura flashed her a quick smile, before turning on her heel and heading back down to the lab. As she walked, Laura was quietly confident she'd covered that off quite well.
James was quite enjoying his stroll into the station until his phone rang. "You need to get to the station now," Robbie told Hathaway. "Why? What's up?" James asked, discomforted. Robbie's response did little to improve his sense of foreboding. "Just come in," Robbie told him before ringing off.
"Renton's revenge, we've been Barkered," Robbie said, gesturing at his screen. "I heard," James replied, "a friend called, as well as a lot of people who weren't friends." James stood next to Robbie in order to see the screen and he groaned inwardly. "They've given out our telephone numbers, our addresses, and worse than that, he says we used Briony to investigate a case, exposed her and got her killed." Robbie told him and James sighed. "You mean he says I used Briony," James replied. "Well, that's just malicious gossip," Robbie said, his gesture belying some of the exasperation he felt at the situation he found himself in. "That's all it takes," James said, resting his hands on his hips. "What if we're wrong?" James muted "I mean, we searched Barker and we found nothing. We're not even 100% sure Briony was there," James leant back against the wall, clearly thinking this all through, again. "She used her code to sign into the building," Robbie replied "her code to sign out forty five minutes later." "But what did she find?" James asked. "Well, that's the problem, apparently Briony didn't even log onto their system," Robbie said. "She was there for forty five minutes," James said, clearly unable to believe this. "Mmm," Robbie replied "Gurdip did a full data transfer. He's going through it now." Robbie stood up and walked out of the office. "Where are you going?" James asked, perplexed. "You don't need to come," Robbie told him and walked out. "Yes I do," James replied.
"So it did bite us on the behind," Jean Innocent mused. She put the paper down and looked up at the two officers in front of her. "The switchboard's been inundated with calls. I assume your phones have been getting the same treatment?" Robbie grimaced. "Oh yes," he replied. "There have also been quite a few rubberneckers outside your homes," Jean continued levelly "but I don't believe any petrol bombs have been thrown… yet." Robbie grimaced. "Dr Hobson is in the middle of a tricky post mortem, but she asked me to give you these." Jean tossed what Robbie recognised as Laura's house keys to him. "She says you're welcome to use her place as long as you need to. Make yourselves at home, there's beer in the fridge. The alarm's just inside the front door, and the code is 0000." In almost any other circumstances, Robbie would have quite enjoyed the disdain tripping off Jean's tongue as she recited Laura's alarm code but he was too busy trying to pretend he didn't know his way around Laura's house very well indeed. Robbie nodded, and then he and James turned and headed for the door.
Safely ensconced in Laura's cottage, Robbie was perusing the case file in front of him while James, apparently, was perusing Laura's extensive bookshelves. "Ooh, ta," Robbie said as James handed him an open bottle of beer. "I know, I can't leave it alone," Robbie said wearily, taking a gulp of his beer "And I also know that if I hadn't pushed things, a lot of other things wouldn't have happened, like… Briony." James half grimaced, half smiled. "How many women do you know who keep a fridge stocked with cold beer *and* read Patrick O'Brien?" James enquired, righting one of Laura's books. "Who's Patrick O'B…." Robbie tailed off, his attention drawn to something in the file while James began to explain the merits of O'Brien in the context of historical fiction. "What?" James asked as Robbie scrutinised two photos. "It may be nothing, or it may be…" Robbie hesitated "you know that student, Oliver, who turned the book around. This photo was taken two months ago for the college prospectus, and this was from the crime scene. Look at the books on those two shelves," Robbie gestured at the photographs "they've been rearranged. And not very well,"
"Good grief," Laura said. It was rare she was included in a case review, but on this occasion, Hathaway had phoned her. "Dr. Hobson," James' voice came down the phone. "We're just wrapping up the Richardson case. I thought you might like to know that we've issued charges against Susanna Lelland." Laura leant back against the counter in the mortuary as James listed the charges, her eyebrows raised. "Well, thank you for the call, Sergeant" Laura said when he finished and James grinned. "Thank you for the beer and the sanctuary, Laura," James said and Laura smiled. "My pleasure, James," she replied softly before hanging up.
"Miranda and Connelly, in love with each other for twenty years and never said a word," Robbie mused, nursing his beer in the evening light as Hathaway perused a copy of Troilus and Cressida. "Scared of rejection?" Hathaway muted. "So they bury themselves in their work, become very successful and very alone," Robbie said, and Hathaway thought he could detect a certain tone of melancholy in his voice. "Now who does that remind me of?" James wondered aloud and Robbie glanced at him. James looked over at him, a smile flitting at the corners of his mouth and Robbie shook his head. "One day, Hathaway, you're going to make one of your wry observations in front of Dr. Hobson, and she's going to exact a certain and just form of punishment," Robbie said and James snorted. "As if I'd be so foolish," he retorted and Robbie sipped his beer thoughtfully.
"0000?" Robbie asked as he stepped through the front door later that day. Laura sighed and walked back into her kitchen. "Don't you start," she replied "James AND Jean have both given me the benefit of their opinions on the subject." Laura fixed Robbie with the kind of look her knew better than to argue with, so he dropped his jacket over one of the dining chairs and came to talk to her. "Beer?" she enquired and Robbie considered her for a few moments without speaking. "Go on then" he replied and Laura looked at him strangely. "Hathaway was admiring your bookshelves," Robbie continued and Laura looked perplexed. "A new interest in pathology?" she enquired lightly, passing Robbie a bottle of beer and a glass. "Patrick O'Brien seemed to pique his interest," Robbie replied and Laura smirked. "You know me, I'll read anything," she said cheerfully. "Hathaway was very impressed by your stock of beer as well," Robbie mused and Laura looked at him. "I can't work out if you're trying to say something, Robbie, but if you are, I'd rather you just said whatever it is," she remarked. "Does he go on at you, about you know…?" Robbie began and Laura stared at him, bemused. "About what?" she asked. "About you and me," Robbie owned and Laura's eyes widened. "I wouldn't say he goes on," she replied lightly, wishing she had quite a large gin and tonic in her hand "but he has made what I think he thinks are subtle digs, I suppose. For the record, he's not as subtle as he thinks he is." Laura considered Robbie. "Why, has he been on at you?" She asked, folding her arms around herself protectively and Robbie's expression softened. "I wish he'd leave well alone," she owned and Robbie smiled before drawing her into his arms, and grinning as she entwined her wrists around his neck. "You completely fooled Jean," he reminded her and Laura smirked."Mmm, yes, I thought I covered that rather well,' she replied, drawing him down for a kiss. "I'd expect nothing less," Robbie replied cheerfully "but while I marvel at your ability to explain things away, I wonder if I ought to be concerned by how good you are at covering your tracks." Laura chuckled and he kissed her lovingly. "I mean, you're bloody good," Robbie continued and Laura grinned happily.
A few days later…
"Right," Robbie said decisively, setting his empty pint glass down on the table and checking his watch. "I'd best be off," he announced and James glanced at him. "A better offer?" he enquired lightly and Robbie shrugged. "I promised Laura Hobson I'd buy her dinner on account of her sorting a report for me the other week," he explained and James grinned broadly. "A hot date," he replied smoothly and Robbie rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure Dr. Hobson would appreciate you speculating," he remarked dryly and James grinned. He enjoyed ribbing his boss about his relationship with Laura Hobson, whatever that might be. He couldn't quite work it out, and had largely come to the conclusion that whatever it was between them was a bit of a mystery. There was a sizeable stake within the station on whether Hobson and Lewis would ever make it official and James thoroughly enjoyed any opportunity to rib Lewis about his designs on the lovely Laura. James liked the formidable Dr. Hobson a great deal. She was bright, witty, droll, and he liked spending time with her. And the attraction between Lewis and Hobson, or so James observed, was certainly present. But they seemed locked in this holding pattern, whereby they never quite progressed beyond good friends. Maybe that was what they both wanted, but James always got the impression that they might both want more than friendship. "Thanks for the pint," Robbie said, clapping James on the shoulder, and then making his way out of the pub. Honestly, Robbie thought, Hathaway was a cheeky sod. He never missed an opportunity to rib him about his relationship with Laura. If only he knew. Robbie smiled to himself and quickened his stride to go and meet Laura. It was a pleasant evening, and he was looking forward to a good dinner with Laura. They'd both had a busy week and she was finally off the on-call roster for a couple of nights. Yes, tonight was going to be nice and it would be a pleasure to spend a few hours in Laura's company. He strolled along in the evening sunshine, and he turned the corner down to walk along the canal to Laura's choice of restaurant. Down on the canal, Laura had discovered this little bistro, set up with a terrace and he was more than willing to indulge her dinner reservation, particularly in light of the report she'd obligingly written with particular promptness.
As he sat waiting for Laura, Robbie was deep in thought, and he singularly failed to notice her approach. It was a really nice evening, and Laura was rather pleased she'd named this as her price when Robbie had considered aloud how he might persuade her into producing the report he needed just a little faster. As she strolled up towards the restaurant, her heart sank when she recognised more than one individual seated on the terrace. Laura sighed inwardly, and waved a hand in greeting to Alan Peterson and his date, and he waved in return. As the Maitre D' greeted her, Laura gestured to Robbie and she was granted entrance to the restaurant. She laid her hand on Robbie's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately and he looked up at her, pleased to see her. "Hello my love," he said warmly and she smiled at him. "I suppose the presence of a certain DI Peterson had passed you by?" she enquired and Robbie met her gaze steadily before glancing round the terrace. As he noticed Peterson, he grimaced slightly and then raised a hand in greeting before turning his attention back to Laura. "Not quite the romantic ambience we'd hoped for, eh?" he mused and Laura sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "Well, no. But let's try and make the most of a rare evening off together, eh?" she said wryly "and you can hold my hand on the way home."
Despite the unexpected and unwelcome audience, it proved to be a rather enjoyable evening for Robbie and Laura. Laura supposed it was one of the advantages of having been friends for such a long time, that they were relaxed in each other's company and although Laura rather wished they'd been able to hold hands, the food was delicious and the wine beautifully chilled. And, she suspected, she and Robbie were having a much nicer evening than a certain Detective Inspector on the opposite side of the restaurant. As the waiter brought their bill, along with a couple of glasses of liqueur, Laura gazed across at Robbie happily. "You look more relaxed, love," he observed, raising his glass to her and Laura chinked her glass against his, smiling at him in a way he knew was reserved almost singularly for him. "It's been a lovely dinner, Robbie," she replied softly and then she glanced up and sighed heavily. "Here we go," she muttered as Alan Peterson moved into view. "Lewis, Laura," he said pleasantly and Laura forced herself to smile. "Evening, Alan," she said and gently nudged her knee against Robbie's under the table. "You two look very cosy," Peterson observed and they both looked at him, neither desperately impressed with this turn in conversation. Laura decided this probably shouldn't be dignified with an answer and she fixed him with a glance, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Right," Peterson said, apparently slightly disconcerted. "I'll, er, see you both around," he continued and Laura smiled. "See you next week," she replied genially. "Goodnight," Robbie said, and Peterson made his way out of the restaurant. Robbie watched him go, and as Peterson disappeared into the distance, Robbie slid his hand over to Laura and captured her fingers within his. Laura smiled broadly. "God, he doesn't take a hint, does he?" she asked and Robbie shook his head in despair. "Nah, intuition's not his thing," he remarked and Laura smiled. Once they'd paid their bill and made their way out of the restaurant, Robbie wrapped his arm around Laura's shoulders as they walked along, and she leant into him, slipping her arm under his jacket. "Love you," Laura said softly. "I love you too," Robbie murmured, kissing her hairline and she squeezed his waist.