TITLE: Temporary Girlfriend (8/20)
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.

(Cindy’s POV)

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Cindy had suffered a couple of serious injuries in her lifetime. This wasn’t the most painful thing she’d ever experienced, but it definitely didn’t feel good. And the unnatural color that her skin had turned wasn’t doing anything to ease her mind.

She’d concluded that there was something in the pool, and that it was something that wasn’t favorable to human skin. It would be nice to know exactly what it was though, because Lindsay had looked really, really worried.

There was one soft knock before Cindy heard the door to the bathroom open.

“Cindy?” Lindsay called in at her.

“Yeah?” Cindy raised her voice over the sound of the shower.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. Come in.”

She was surprised by just how relieved she felt. Was it possible that she believed that Lindsay would get so involved in solving the crime that she wouldn’t come after her? Then again, was that notion really that far-fetched?

“Are you okay?”

She could tell by Lindsay’s voice that she had moved closer.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” Cindy answered, though she really wasn’t sure.

The shower curtain moved and Cindy looked back to find Lindsay staring in at her.

“Geez, Linds,” she said, turning into the corner of the shower.

It didn’t trip any courtesy switches in Lindsay’s head though, because she just continued her gawking.

“Jesus Christ,” Lindsay hissed. “There are paramedics coming. I’m going to get you a robe.”

Much to Cindy’s relief, Lindsay once again disappeared from sight.

Well, thank God you have such a sense of propriety. Wouldn’t want you to see me naked or anything, she thought, shutting off the water and waiting for Lindsay to hand her in the robe. She never anticipated that Lindsay would pull the curtain open completely, without so much as a warning, and stand holding the hotel-provided robe out for her.

Instinctively, Cindy turned away more. How far did Lindsay’s feeling of entitlement extend exactly? Obviously, it extended at least as far as her. But, while Lindsay did have some privileges awaiting her should she ever choose to exercise them, she had no way of knowing that. Cindy hadn’t exactly laid those out on the table. So Lindsay had no adequate intelligence that this wasn’t a violation. Of course, it’s possible Cindy would have felt slightly less mortified if she didn’t look like she’d just dipped herself in a vat of Easter egg dye.

“Cindy,” Lindsay said.

It was almost a command, and as such, it should have been wholly aggravating. Instead, it was kind of nice to let Lindsay tell her what to do in the given situation. She stepped out of the bathtub and quickly into the robe.

Lindsay slid it onto her shoulders, and before Cindy had the chance to pull it closed, Lindsay turned her around, gently tugged the sides together and tied it loosely at the waist, unnervingly focused on the task.

“Okay, Come on,” Lindsay made yet another command, gently placing her arm around Cindy’s shoulders and leading her toward the door.

While Cindy wasn’t exactly scared, she had become considerably less uneasy once Lindsay had come in. Now that Lindsay was there for support, trying to take charge, she had to admit, it was kind of painless to let her.