TITLE: House Arrest (25/35)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Women’s Murder Club does not belong to me. The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. I have no problems with that as long as I can borrow them for short bursts and use them in pursuit of my own enjoyment. I am not trying to infringe. Though, I don’t know why anyone has a problem with fan fic. After all, it really is a compliment. If anyone wants to write fan fiction about my book, feel free.  

(12/30 - CINDY’S POV)

Crackpot cop.

What an idiot. Who would use the details of a case to try to cover up a murder when he was one of only a few people who could possibly have known those details? And to try this with Lindsay around? Who did this guy think he was dealing with? Clearly he didn’t realize he was going up against the most passionate, most relentless, cleverest… sexiest… inspector in the San Fran police force. Lindsay was probably extracting a confession from the guy at this very moment.

Or she could be walking through the door.

Cindy looked up to see Lindsay step into the room.

“Hey,” Lindsay said softly.

“Hey,” she said back.

“What are you doing?”

“Just working the story,” Cindy responded, unable to keep her eyes off of Lindsay as she came closer.

When Lindsay got to the couch, her hand slid along the back of it, and she leaned down and kissed Cindy firmly.

“You want to keep doing that?” she asked as she pulled away.

“It can wait,” Cindy said, running her tongue over her lips.

Lindsay’s eyes were drawn by the movement, and she did this light laugh thing deep in her throat that was incredibly appealing. When she looked back up, her eyes were full of mischief.

“Wanna get drunk?”