TITLE: Between the Shadow and the Soul (9/?)
PAIRING: A veritable clusterfuck… but there is only one way it can end up.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never was. Never will be. No profit. Just love.
(Cindy’s POV)
The first twenty minutes in Jill’s office were almost normal. Other than Claire remaining there for a prolonged period during the course of a workday, it could have been any other day. They’d segued from subject to subject without too much time for breath, or thought, expertly melding case talk and girl talk into one seamless conversation that, from an outside perspective, would have seemed to lack any kind of actual focus. But the stream-of-consciousness discussion was far from pointless. It had an explicit point, distinct and draining. The focus just wasn’t on what to say. What not to say was the only critical element. And, for twenty minutes, they had navigated quite well, traversing the dangerous topography like pros.
Then - as if a buzzer had gone off at the twenty minute mark - they ran out of things to say to each other, and the conversation had turned into sudden silence. No one had erred and mentioned Lindsay’s name, Kiss-Me-Not or the ever-present fact that they may or may not actually be having dinner as a foursome that night. They just seemed to realize all at once that, when trying to avoid so many pitfalls, maybe it was best to just not say anything at all.
Cindy got up then and moved to one of the windows in Jill’s office. Alone, despite the fact that one of her best friends and Jill, whatever she was turning into, were just behind her, she stared out at the city as if she could will Lindsay back to safety through desire alone. And, even after several stretched minutes without result, and with hope rapidly sinking, she just continued staring, just kept believing in the power of desire, because she didn’t know what else to do.
It wasn’t like the reality of the situation had wandered from her mind, or would until they heard some news from the frontlines, but it wasn’t until Denise made an appearance that it became almost unbearable.
“Bernhardt,” the generally-dispassionate ADA was saying, in a tone that indicated directives would be soon to follow, as she plowed around the doorframe into Jill’s office.
Cindy turned from the window and Claire swiveled in her chair, and Denise was met with, not one, but three sets of eyes, all waiting to see what she would have the gall to say given the present circumstances.
Denise took a long look at each of them in turn and dropped her gaze almost contritely. “I’ll come back later,” she said softly. Then, she left them without any kind of reprimand or sarcastic parting remark.
In her absence, the silence grew so heavy, Cindy put her hands against the window to keep it from taking her to her knees. She longed for the snarky attitude that Denise usually bestowed upon them, and suspected that Jill and Claire were doing the same. Apparently, Denise’s compassion felt like the apocalypse.
Mere moments later, when a sudden burst of music interrupted the mutual gloom and doom, it was so jumbled in her brain that Cindy couldn’t distinguish the song, but it didn’t matter whose ringtone it was. They had piled their cells together on the corner of Jill’s desk, not quite sure which one of them Lindsay would choose to call… if she chose to call any of them. Which made any phone fair game. Though they lunged simultaneously and Cindy was furthest from the pile, adrenaline, or maybe panic, gave her the advantage and she beat the hands of both Jill and Claire to the ringing cell.
“Linds?” she asked hopefully, before the phone had even made it to her ear.
In the extended pause that followed, Cindy’s stomach dropped like a brick to her feet, only to rebound into her throat when Lindsay’s soft, familiar voice finally responded.
“I thought I called Claire.”
“You probably did. I grabbed…” was all that Cindy could manage before choking on a sudden sob she hadn’t felt rising and didn’t have a chance to hold back.
“Hey,” Lindsay soothed. “I’m alright.”
Realizing that she had been expecting a call from Jacobi or Tom just as much as she had been expecting this call, tears started falling unchecked and Cindy tried valiantly, but hopelessly, to regain her composure.
“Cindy,” Lindsay murmured.
“I’m sorry,” Cindy breathed in return.
“Cindy?” a worried voice pleaded from behind her.
Turning to Jill and Claire, guilt washed over her when she saw the looks on their faces and realized how her side of the conversation must have sounded.
“She’s okay,” she assured them, forcing a smile, and both Jill and Claire took much needed breaths.
“Jill?” Lindsay queried.
“And Claire,” Cindy replied, sniffing and regaining some semblance of control. “What happened?”
“He’s dead,” Lindsay responded. “I shot him.”
“Good,” Cindy said immediately, without thinking. But, despite the fact that killing a man was difficult for Lindsay, even if the man wasn’t deserving of her guilt, Cindy couldn’t take it back. She wouldn’t if she could. “And your dad? Is he okay?”
“He was shot.”
“Oh God, Linds…”
“No,” Lindsay started quickly. “He’s okay. He was awake and talking. He’s going to be fine.”
“Oh,” Cindy breathed. “Thank God. So, are you on your way back?”
“Uh, no,” Lindsay began hesitantly. “I’m going to go to the airport, I think. I figure I should… you know… say goodbye to Pete.”
The words seemed to echo around Cindy’s head, almost as if they were hollow.
“Yeah, of course you should,” Cindy murmured in reply. “You should say goodbye to Pete.”
“Are we still doing dinner?” Lindsay asked, sounding almost pleased at the prospect.
“If you’re up for it,” Cindy returned, unable to reach Lindsay’s level of enthusiasm.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Just pick a place and let me know where.”
“I’ll text you.”
“Okay. See you later.”
“Okay.”
Not really wanting to end the conversation, Cindy saw little use in keeping a dead line to her ear. Looking into Claire’s now amused expression, she sheepishly handed Claire back her phone. “Sorry,” she said, bouncing on her feet, trying to expend the nervous energy she couldn’t seem to shake. “So, Lindsay wants to know where we want to eat.”
Claire smiled.
Jill smiled too.
But, despite the fact that the news they’d just received was the best news they could have hoped for, Jill’s smile, much like Cindy’s own, was oddly subdued.
