TITLE: Paper Anniversary (5/?) <—-(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.
****So, like a dumbass, Riley has gone and gotten all sick again, and has therefore fallen far behind story schedule. Apologies. Oh… and this was written while heavily medicated, so if little pink butterflies start flying out of your screen as you read, that’s why.****

(December 24 – Lindsay’s POV)

She was in so much trouble. When she’d called to let Cindy know that she was on her way home, Cindy was replying in her clipped, frustrated tone that warned Lindsay trouble was a-brewin’. When she unlocked the door and stepped inside, Martha was there to greet her, but no Cindy. She could hear the clinks and thumps of Cindy moving around in the kitchen and headed through the carefully decorated hall in that direction as if she were walking the cellblock to her own execution.

A body emerged from the kitchen, and she prepared to launch into apology, but that wasn’t Cindy either. It was Jill, carrying a glass bowl of nuts. Jill gave her a grimace of sympathy and continued on her way, and Lindsay sucked it up and stepped into the kitchen.

Cindy’s back was to her, but she knew that Cindy was aware of her presence by the sudden stiffness of her movements.

“Glad you could make it,” she declared.

“I’m sorry,” Lindsay rushed. “Donelson asked me to stay for just a few minutes while he ran out to get a last minute thing for his kid, and he’s doing me a favor, so I said yes. But with the traffic and everything, it took him more like two hours. And I couldn’t just leave.”

“So you are incredibly late,” Cindy summed up. “And it’s no big deal. Get in the shower. Everyone will be here in twenty minutes.”

It was a big deal. It was a really big deal. She could tell. And if Cindy was claiming that it wasn’t now, it only meant that they were going to have this conversation later, at a more opportune time for yelling. Jill gently palmed Lindsay’s shoulder as she maneuvered by her, and went back over to the counter to help Cindy.

Feeling as if she were being granted a temporary reprieve, Lindsay did as she was told and went to the shower. While she was in there, she scripted the perfect apology, but everything that she had worked out to say fell by the wayside when she emerged from the bedroom to find that there were already several people besides Jill in their apartment.

Cindy was with them in the living room, standing off to the side, already pouring a glass of wine down her throat that Lindsay was at least ninety-five percent sure had everything to do with her.

Lindsay avoided everyone, stealthily bee-lining to her girlfriend. Sliding up behind Cindy, her arms closed around Cindy’s waist in a loose embrace that was prepared to become a trap if need be. Much to her great relief though, Cindy didn’t tense up, try to run, or elbow her in the stomach.

“Are you really mad at me?” Lindsay asked quietly.

“I’m not delighted with you at the moment,” Cindy admitted. “But I’m not mad. I am, however, wondering what you are up to. Whatever you give me tomorrow, it better make all this worth it, or I will be mad.”

Lindsay was infinitely grateful that she wasn’t standing in front of Cindy. Her face would have given her away instantly.

“You do realize they’re going to get a good laugh at us for giving them joint gifts, right?” Cindy asked.

Lindsay followed her gaze across the room to where Jill and Claire were picking at packages beneath the tree, looking for ones with their names on them.

“Oh yeah,” Lindsay acknowledged. “They’re going to have a field day.”

“I’ll make you a bet,” Cindy tempted. “I’ll put an extensive back massage on the fact that Jill uses the words couple and married in a completely derogatory way when she finds out.”

Knowing very well that taking the other side of that bet was a certain check in the loss column, Lindsay agreed to it anyway, because she felt guilty enough to take a dive, and because there was really no losing with those stakes anyway.

Afraid that they were going to see every gift that had been so meticulously wrapped and situated beneath the tree unwrapped and strewn about the room, Lindsay and Cindy finally gave in and pulled Jill and Claire’s gifts from their hiding places, walking them across the room to bestow them with indulgent smiles.

Jill took one look at the gift tag, and snarled her nose. “You two are such a couple. It’s like you’re married or something.”

“God forbid,” Claire muttered.

Lindsay looked into Cindy’s smirk and gave a look of defeat, as if it was anything but awesome that she was going to be spending her night with her hands all over Cindy’s naked body. She was rather inclined to usher everyone out with a “Merry Christmas. Thanks for coming, but the party has now come to an immediate conclusion.”

Jill was more subdued when she opened her gift to find that Cindy’s superior gift-giving abilities paired with an increased spending limit provided utter fabulosity. She waved her Gucci cosmetic case in the air as if she’d just broken a world record to earn it, and hugged them both in turn.

“I so don’t need this.”

“Who does?” Cindy responded. “It’s exactly the kind of luxury that you stare at in the boutique window every day, but are too sensible to actually buy.”

“Or too broke,” Jill mumbled.

As were Claire’s shoes… luxury without sense. Which was really what holiday gift-giving should be about.

“Now I feel really bad,” Jill said. “Money has been kind of tight, so I didn’t buy you two anything.”

Cindy seemed rather shocked by Jill’s announcement. Lindsay smirked slightly, wiping it away as quickly as it came.

“Oh,” Claire said, looking rather disturbed. “They’d really amped up Ed’s therapy. We’ve had some unexpected out-of-pocket expenses, and it was hard enough making sure the boys were taken care of, so I don’t have anything either.”

“Okay,” Cindy said slowly, smiling her brightest, most insincere smile. “That’s totally fine. It’s not like we were expecting anything… big.”

Lindsay nudged Cindy with her elbow.

“Or anything at all,” Cindy mumbled.

“Well, good then,” Jill responded. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Claire added.

“Merry Christmas,” Lindsay returned.

“Uh huh,” Cindy grumbled, walking off.

Lindsay watched her all the way over to the wine, where Cindy tipped up the bottle and refilled her glass.