TITLE: Paper Anniversary (4/?) <—-(You never know how long I might ramble.)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy – duh
SUMMARY: Lindsay and Cindy celebrate their anniversary. But which one?
NOTES: The is a sequel to House Arrest… as requested. For Nikky and anyone else who wanted, but was too shy to ask. Couldn’t relegate it to a one-shot though. I love this Lindsay and Cindy too much!
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. (Well, not anymore. Jackasses.) 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.

(December 22nd – Cindy’s POV)

Cindy forced her eyes open just enough to see the time when “Holiday” blasted forth from the alarm clock at ten ‘til five. Inwardly cursing Madonna’s chipper call to celebration, she rolled onto her stomach and pulled the pillow over her head to block out all things festive.

Forty minutes later, she was roused again by Lindsay’s warm hand on her hip, shaking her awake through the blankets.

“Baby,” Lindsay’s voice tugged her from light sleep.

Pillow falling off her head, and hair hanging like a curtain in the way as she pushed up and turned her head to look at Lindsay, Cindy found the energy for a glare at the sound of Lindsay’s laughter. “What are you doing up?” she questioned grumpily.

“Going to work,” Lindsay returned, pushing the barrier of Cindy’s hair out of her face.

For someone who wasn’t exactly a morning person, Lindsay certainly did seem glad to be awake and dressed.

“Why?” Cindy queried. “It’s five-thirty in the morning. And you worked yesterday. And you don’t even have a case right now. Do you?” The notion that she could have been left out of the loop on something gave her an immediate dose of vigor.

“No, I don’t have a case,” Lindsay assured her, hand soothing down Cindy’s lower back. “Just routine paperwork and clean-up.”

“At five-thirty in the morning?”

“Well, I thought you’d want me home at a reasonable time, and I’m working a twelve hour shift.”

Cindy pushed up more onto her elbows, giving Lindsay a full-on eye interrogation. Hers never worked on Lindsay the way that Lindsay’s did on her, but it made her feel better to make the effort anyway. “Why are you working so much when you don’t have a case?”

Lindsay shrugged. “I’m on the schedule.”

“Tom just randomly gave you an eighty-hour work week in the days leading up to Christmas?”

“What can I say?” Lindsay returned cheerily. “He’s a real hard-ass. Anyway, there’s coffee… if you decide to get up… which you won’t. So I reset the alarm for you.”

“What’s goin’ on, Boxer?”

“Nothin’,” Lindsay grinned unconvincingly and bestowed Cindy with several passionate cheek kisses before standing up. “Gotta go. I’ll call you later and I’ll see you tonight.” And like a super hero on speed, she was gone in a flourish of mystery.

Somewhere in Cindy’s mind, there was niggling suspicion that Lindsay was up to something, but when Martha hopped up into Lindsay’s spot on the bed and she buried her hand in soft fur, she was too content to investigate.