Discalimer: I don't own anything except for the idea of playing with the plot :)
Warning: Kindda spoiler for Lie to Me's Canary Song; Spoiler for Reservoir Dogs

Since Cal Lightman's history is unknown mostly I thought why not do this... Mix in Reservoir Dogs when he was about twenty something before he left Britain to USA. So the whole Reservoir Movie took place in Britain for this fanfic (IT'S AU) and I hope it'll be all right cause I'm still getting the grips of both of the categories of this fanfic. I'll be studying both the movie and the episode to hopefully make this story more believable and hopefully more better.

Thanks goes to those that gave this story a chance and I hope to hear from you soon.

*Sit back, be comfortable and enjoy.
** Sorry that it's short; the next chapter will be longer, promise

Lie to these Dogs*
Down Memory Lane

He looked at the mirror, his hand lightly brushing over the scars that remained after the doctors had pulled out the three bullets. He remembered how close he came to dying; his blood pouring out of his belly, his nerves dancing with fiery pain as the bullet remained buried in his flesh. Then he received another painful shot from Joe to the ribs (which managed punctured a lung as it slid between the fourth and fifth rib) before the cops arrived and another from Larry after the rest of the cops had entered.

He lifted his hand and touched his cheek, his eyes turned inwards as he continued to remember.

The cooling barrel of the gun was pressed against his cheek as he gasped for air, held by Larry – Mr White – who stared at the squad's gun barrels. The hand holding the gun was trembling and the angle shifted and a shot rang out.

White hot pain blurred his vision as the bullet tore and buried itself into his shoulder; he didn't hear the other shots that rang out as they killed Larry over the roar that filled his ears, didn't see Larry fall backwards with his eyes dimming as death took over; as tears broke free and dripped down his wrinkled, familiar face.

He splashed water over his face and pulled on his black shirt and walked out of the bathroom. Today was another day of work, there was time to ponder the past later.

Lie to these Dogs

He waited outside the usual bar, leaning against the wall, hands in his jacket pockets. He was waiting for Wheels and Cross, two of his usual – not to mention criminal – gambling buddies. The three of them would then head down the alley and walk (for Wheels, he'd wheel his way there) into their usual spot through the backdoor and get ready for their game.

He pulled his sleeve up, glancing at the watch. They were late; about fifteen minutes late. He couldn't get into the room because Cross was this week's password keeper since Brazzi came up with the system after their first game.

This week amongst the three of them it would be Wheels, then the next next week it'd be him. It was a rotation between the three of them. He heard men talking to his left, near the corner of the bar. He could hear that it was definitely Wheels and Cross but they had another person with them.

He paused, thinking. Was another guy joining the game? His answer came rather quickly when Cross and Wheels turned the corner with a thin, fairly short man who looked exactly like…

"Jimmy! Sorry we're late! Cross got this guy," Wheels pointed to the other man who was staring at him with shock, "to tag along since he likes to play and he's got a lot of dough."

Cross nudged the man, tilting his head. "Hey, man. What's got into you? You look like you've seen a ghost," Cross said with a laugh.

Cal stepped forward his eyes not leaving the man that was supposed to be buried deep in his past all the way in Britain.

"Of course he's seen a ghost," he stated as he approached the 'professional' thief. "Long time no see, eh, Mr Pink?"

Lie to these Dogs*

Word count: 570 (without Author's Note)