TITLE: House Arrest (34/35)
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. 

(1/05  Lindsay’s POV)

She could go another forty-eight hours, whether those hours be like the first three when they couldn’t seem to stop having sex, or these last few when Cindy was sleeping against her but she couldn’t fall asleep because she was terrified that Cindy might wake up and decide to abscond in the middle of the night.

Normally, when sleep proved elusive, she would get up and do something else, but she was quite surprised to find that all she wanted to do was lie quietly, run her fingers through thick red hair, and contemplate the fact that, of all the things she could be apprehensive about regarding this change in their relationship status, the only concern she had was that Cindy would hit the brakes. She’d already suffered Cindy-induced whiplash once, and she really didn’t have the extra money for an emotional chiropractor.

“What are you thinking about?”

The lazy whisper drifted up to her, and Lindsay glanced down into eyes that were barely awake, but already overly quizzical.

“Just us,” she answered.

“What about us?” Cindy asked, her eyes scrunching in concern.

Lindsay trailed her hand to Cindy’s cheek, smoothing the unease away with her fingertips.

What to say? This very moment had been living at the back of her consciousness since not long after they met and it was fascinating that it had come to pass in this way? That it almost made her believe in fate, which she wasn’t usually prone to do? That she was grateful for having such a bright light cast into the darkness that was her life? That she felt giddy like a school girl, and if Cindy told anyone that, she would find a way to punish her that involved the house arrest cuff and a very special chore list?

Or she could just quote a very wise, very sexy reporter who once said –

“As a team? We’re pretty much awesome.”

Cindy smiled up at her, and Lindsay tugged on the back of her head. Like a good girl, Cindy crawled up Lindsay’s body and kissed her sufficiently. As Cindy pulled away, dragging her tongue over Lindsay’s upper lip on the way, Lindsay’s body started thrumming… again. Jesus. She really thought she had already tapped out her orgasm quota. But it was okay, because they had all day. More than one in fact.

“So, I was hoping things would go this way,” she admitted to Cindy. “I took the weekend off.”

“You took the whole weekend off?”

“Yes.”

Cindy gave her little head-cocked-to-the-side curiosity look.

“You took the whole weekend off?”

“Yes, smartass.” Lindsay couldn’t find it within herself to be truly annoyed, but it was still fun to pretend. “I took the whole weekend off to spend with you.”

Cindy’s smile was dazzling, until it faded into a worrisome look of dismay.

“What?” Lindsay asked.

“I actually have plans,” Cindy answered.

“You have… plans,” Lindsay nodded. “Okay. I should have asked you. That’s fine. With who?”

She tried to sound blasé about the whole thing, but Cindy’s look suggested a touch of jealousy might have leaked into her tone, and that she might have liked it just a little.

“Another woman,” Cindy answered nonchalantly. “She’s older, pretty, a really good cook. Oh, and my mom,” she added as an afterthought.

Lindsay’s hands didn’t have to travel far to get at Cindy’s sides. Sides she’d discovered were quite ticklish. Cindy laughed the entire time she was struggling to grab Lindsay’s hands, which made it take even longer for her to get hold of them. In the end, Lindsay stopped the game. If she wanted to tickle Cindy into a laughing oblivion, Cindy would have stood little chance of stopping her.

“Your post-holiday holiday celebration?”

“Yep,” Cindy responded, still catching her breath. “Scheduled for 5 p.m. Pacific Standard Time.”

“Okay,” Lindsay nodded. She understood that Cindy needed to do this. She was incredibly, incredibly disappointed, but she did understand. “So, do I get you until then?”

Cindy just kept staring at her, without any kind of response, then ducked her head and swallowed nervously.

“You could always come with me,” Cindy finally said, looking out from under her eyelashes.

Lindsay was startled. Meeting Cindy’s mom? That seemed… okay.

“We don’t have to tell her anything,” Cindy apparently thought the lull in the conversation a good place to ramble. “I can just introduce you as my… Lindsay.”

Lindsay frowned.

“But she wouldn’t be upset, right?” she asked. “If she knew. About us. You and me. Would she?”

“No, no,” Cindy said quickly, shaking her head. “No small-mindedness or religious issues. Just… we’re new and… I would really like for you to come, but I want you to be comfortable. But you don’t have to. I know. Family. Tricky. And kind of vexing. And my uncles all have this incessant need to pick, but not in a mean way. Well, except for one of them… and just some of the time. Usually when he’s drunk, but he will be, because he likes to do that too. But it will only be a few hours and - ”

Lindsay had been waiting patiently for an unobtrusive place to interject her response, but eventually figured out she wasn’t going to get one.

“I want to go,” she interrupted, elevating her voice to be heard over Cindy.

It managed to shut Cindy up instantly.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Lindsay smiled.

“Okay,” Cindy said in a slightly astonished whisper.

Then Cindy’s lips latched onto her own with a sublime ferocity that brought a clear-cut conclusion to the discussion part of the morning. Lindsay wrenched her lips from Cindy’s just long enough to form one word.

“Martha!” she said in her best drill sergeant tone and pointed sharply toward the bedroom door.

Martha dutifully hopped down from the end of the bed and gave them their privacy.