TITLE: Temporary Girlfriend (3/20)
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.

(Lindsay’s POV)

“Jacobi? Jacobi?”

Cindy wasn’t actually asking the question. She was just stating it again and again. Ever since they’d gone over the details of the undercover assignment and Cindy had casually asked who would be staying at the hotel earmarked for the men, she hadn’t been able to get over it.

“Jacobi? It’s just… Jacobi?”

“You’re the one who thinks he’s sexy,” Lindsay returned. “You can’t see him surrounded by scantily clad gay boys?”

“He is sexy. For an old-ish guy. I didn’t say that he was my type.” Cindy was embarrassed, which, coincidentally, was exactly what Lindsay was going for. “And I can see that actually. That’s what’s so disturbing.”

Lindsay looked over at Cindy, who was watching the scenery go by as if she didn’t, in fact, live in the area, and found herself wondering what exactly Cindy’s type was.

Jamie?

Cindy did seem to like him, but he hadn’t been around since. So apparently she didn’t like him too much. And, besides that one errant, and disconcerting, remark about Jacobi’s sexiness, she’d never given any indication as to what her preferences might be. She did a lot of flirting with the unis at crime scenes, but that was usually to get access, and those poor guys always ended up considerably more love-stricken than Cindy.

Maybe gay guys?

Cindy did say she played Grace to plenty of Wills in the city. If that was the case, Lindsay would sort of have to feel sorry for her. That would be a special kind of depressing, pining away like that over something she wasn’t ever going to have.

Or maybe, just maybe, gay girls?

Cindy did come over with the movies and she did seem to think that she had much more of a handle on the whole playing gay thing than Lindsay. So either she had more experience with it or she just thought that she was worldlier when it came to that particular subject, which Lindsay might have found laughable, if just the idea that Cindy might think that didn’t piss her off so much.

But if that was Cindy’s thought process, and she sort of suspected that it was, Cindy certainly got schooled. Lindsay would have kind of liked more feedback on her on-the-fly Sapphic expertise, because they hadn’t discussed it. They just kind of went on with the evening as if it had never happened.

The kiss she’d laid on Cindy was hot. It had deserved applause. Cindy didn’t have to know that it came rather effortlessly. As much as Cindy could grate on her last nerve, and she could, and she had a feeling she could do the same to Cindy from time to time, she couldn’t deny that they had spark. From their very first meeting, there was just something that popped about them.

It wasn’t all that surprising. They had a lot in common. In their way of working, their follow-through, their incessant need to solve anything and everything, they were so similar. But in terms of outlook and manner and candidness, they were practically from two different worlds. Lindsay supposed that gave them the clichés of ‘like attracting like’ and ‘opposites attracting’ at the same time.

She was attracted to Cindy. She wasn’t denying that. She might have fought it at every turn, but there was no way she could not be attracted to Cindy’s personality, her intelligence, her spirit. She’d never even considered what that could mean sexually, because there was really no reason to. There still wasn’t. That kiss was hot. They clicked. That was a fact. And they would continue to click. But this… this was pretend. This was work. And it wouldn’t last long. There was really no need for any drama.

“What do you think he’s wearing?” Cindy asked suddenly.

“Jacobi?” Lindsay asked, amused.

“Yeah. I mean, I hope he isn’t wearing one of those drab suits. If he does, there will be no doubt he’s a cop.”

“I’m pretty sure that someone took him shopping,” Lindsay answered. “I don’t know what they bought, but I’m kind of pulling for something pink and floral.”

Cindy laughed loudly, looking semi-traumatized.

“That is not sexy,” she said.

“Let’s not think about it,” Lindsay responded, and couldn’t help but join in as Cindy’s infectious laughter filled the front seat.