TITLE: A Conversation in Which Cindy Doesn’t Have Much to Say… Until She Does
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never was. Never will be. No profit. Just love.

Cindy glanced up at the sound of the door snapping closed. Glimpsing Lindsay standing there, her eyes averted right back to her lap. When Cindy’s hands began toying awkwardly with each other, Lindsay was rather grateful to see that she’d gotten some motor function back.

For a moment, Lindsay simply watched Cindy fidget, a picture in nervous energy. Feeling somewhat guilty about Cindy’s distressed state, and not really sure what to say, she was reluctant to move. But knowing that the route behind her was blocked, not only by the door, but by two people who were more than determined to keep her in the room, she gave into the inevitable and took a tentative step forward. Then a second.

On the third, Cindy’s wide-eyed gaze shot up to her again in a way that made Lindsay feel like a vicious predator approaching a little forest creature who was already caught in a trap.

“Hey,” Lindsay whispered.

But Cindy’s verbal processors were still apparently on the fritz, because she simply stared back.

“Are you okay?”

Cindy didn’t offer any indication as to whether she was or wasn’t, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously, which proved that she was at least aware that there was a dialogue taking place. Or perhaps a monologue if she really had scared Cindy mute.

“Listen, about…” Lindsay gestured toward the morgue, finally thrusting the hand in her back pocket. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t think it would upset you. I just couldn’t help myself. So few people will play Decepticons with me with the morgue tools. I wanted to show my appreciation.”

She thought a relaxed, humorous approach might ease the tension, but Cindy didn’t even crack a smile. No thumbs up. No thumbs down. Not a scrap of reaction. If her comedy act was destined to bomb, Lindsay wished that Cindy would at least heckle. Instead, eyes still locked on her, Cindy’s face was set in a blank, unreadable state.

Not sure where to go from there, Lindsay rocked backed on her heels and waited for some form of intervention. Even Jill and Claire bursting through the door announcing that they were going to speak on her behalf would have been welcome.

The way that Cindy was just watching and waiting made Lindsay feel as if there was something in particular she should have been saying. Maybe Cindy expected an apology. That was easy. ‘I’m sorry I kissed you.’ Five words and she’d be done with it.

But then Cindy might actually think that she was, in fact, sorry. And, since she wasn’t, that would only further confuse the issue.

‘I apologize for invading your personal space without permission?’ ‘I’m sorry my kiss broke you?’ ‘I’m sorry we didn’t have time to take things further?’ It would really help to know what Cindy wanted to hear. If only she had a three-sided coin.

“Is this a trick?” Cindy asked in such a small voice that Lindsay barely distinguished it from the silence.

Thankful that Cindy had decided to speak to her, and relieved that she still had the ability, Lindsay missed the actual question. “What?”

“Did you make a bet with Jill or something? How much do you get for kissing me?”

“What?!? No. Nothing,” Lindsay fumbled. “There was no bet.”

“No?” Cindy questioned, disbelievingly.

“No,” Lindsay adamantly shook her head.

“Then what the hell was that?” Cindy said, tension bleeding into every syllable.

Okay, anger she could handle. Though it wasn’t the emotion she was expecting to tap into. Or the one that she would prefer to have aimed her way.

“I just assumed, after last night, you’d realize that…”

“What?” Cindy submitted. “There doesn’t have to be a dead body or dire situation in order for you to hang out with me?”

“Yes,” Lindsay pointed eagerly at Cindy, who had just hit on something immensely useful to her. “That’s part of it.”

Moving her hand in a ‘keep it coming’ motion, Lindsay silently begged Cindy to ply her with more.

“That we don’t just work together?” Cindy suggested. “We’re actually friends and we can have conversations that don’t revolve around our jobs?”

“Yes,” Lindsay encouraged.

“Or Tom. Or Pete,” Cindy added in an irritated voice that made Lindsay wince.

“Right,” she uttered, feeling every bit the ass she’d been, but not quite ready to relinquish all hope yet, regardless of her former ill-behavior.

Staring into Cindy’s eyes, though it was increasingly difficult to do, Lindsay willed her on, hoping that Cindy would lead her into places that she was too scared to tread alone.

“That you like me?” Cindy tried.

“Yes, I like you,” Lindsay breathed.

“And you want to get to know me better?” Cindy tentatively put forward, as if testing waters she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to jump into. “Be closer to me?”

Feeling herself grow slightly warm at all of the different things that short phrase could encompass, Lindsay squared her shoulders and nodded slowly. “Uh huh.”

“That you,” Cindy paused to lightly clear her throat, “more than like me?”

Word-forming ability going temporarily on the blink, Lindsay just nodded in response.

“That you want to strip me naked and take me on Claire’s desk?” Cindy stated bluntly, without the slightest hedging.

Face instantly catching fire and mouth going dry just as fast, Lindsay glanced from Cindy to the desk in question. Running her tongue over her lips as she turned back to Cindy, whose arms had crossed over her chest in either defense or challenge, a smile eased across Lindsay’s face.

“I think I’d prefer a bed,” she admitted. “But most any surface is tempting.”

As if it was the last thing she’d been expecting to hear, Cindy’s jaw dropped, her mouth hanging open for a second, before she snapped it closed.

“Since when?!” she demanded, the anger roaring back.

“Well,” Lindsay swallowed. “According to… everyone… apparently it’s been a while.”

“Really?” Cindy inquired on a laugh that lacked any trace of amusement. “Because it’s been kind of hard to tell.”

“I guess maybe it has,” Lindsay acknowledged.

“What about Tom, the ex-husband you’ve been mooning over ever since I met you?”

“I think I can explain-”

“Well, what about Pete? The perfect man who took the place of your ex-husband as soon as you let up the reins?”

“I deserve that,” Lindsay conceded.

“I know!” Cindy shot back, springing to her feet, which seemed miraculous given her recent paralysis. “What are you trying to say? You were harboring some kind of secret crush on me the entire time.”

“I guess,” Lindsay started, before breaking into an unambiguous nod. “Yes.”

“Well, you were hiding it pretty deep, Linds, so forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.”

Cindy headed for the door, and Lindsay had the distinct feeling that, once Cindy reached the other side of it, she would never be able to broach this subject again without getting a scrappy redhead wailing on her with fully-extended claws and all of the rage she could muster. Then again – the fingernails were the only bad part of that scenario.

“I was confused,” Lindsay acknowledged what she’d just, that moment, realized herself. “It took me by surprise. I’ve never felt this before.”

Hand on the doorknob, Cindy paused in her escape, but wouldn’t look at her. “No kidding, Lindsay. I know you haven’t exactly been making the rounds with the women of San Francisco.”

Furrowing her brow for a moment, Lindsay finally got what Cindy was saying and, laughing lightly, wondered exactly how many more misunderstandings they could cram into this one conversation.

“That’s not what I meant,” she confessed quietly.

Cindy looked back at her, hard expression softening as she seemed to grasp what Lindsay had just admitted to out loud.

“Oh,” Cindy breathed.

“Oh,” Lindsay smiled softly.

Cindy’s hand fell from the door and she turned fully in Lindsay’s direction. Though the same four feet separated them, Lindsay felt like the distance had just dramatically decreased.

“So, now what do we do?” Cindy appeared rather lost without the anger to fall back on.

Lindsay unconsciously glanced toward Claire’s desk, and when she turned her eyes back toward the door, Cindy dropped her gaze in an attempt to hide her partial-smirk smile.

“Claire and Jill are right outside,” Lindsay reminded herself more than Cindy.

“Probably listening to every word we’ve said,” Cindy added.

“Definitely,” Lindsay bobbed her head.

“Claire has something on your case,” Cindy motioned to the door with her head. “And I should probably get the scoop and get back to work.”

“Right,” Lindsay nodded again, trying not to sulk.

“But this conversation isn’t over,” Cindy declared.

Maybe it should have made Lindsay nervous, but, instead, she fought back the ridiculously giddy smile that wanted to emerge. “I didn’t figure.”

“And I don’t want you distracted,” Cindy added, “so how about we plan to continue the discussion once your case is closed.”

“Okay,” Lindsay nodded, mystery-solving components kicking into immediate overdrive. “I’ll close it by tonight.”

Shy, yet satisfied, grin coming to her lips, Cindy looked adorably kiss-worthy. Regardless of the fact that Cindy’s kissability factor was what got her into this in the first place, the favorable outcome goaded Lindsay forward. Cindy watched each deliberate step, dropping her gaze only when Lindsay was so close it would have caused neck strain to maintain eye contact.

“Got any more motivation for me?” Lindsay asked softly.

“Yeah,” Cindy’s hand slid onto Lindsay’s abdomen, bringing a rapid cessation in Lindsay’s breathing. Gently urging Lindsay back a step, Cindy looked up at her, eyes loaded with heaven, sin and a host of other contradictory promises. “I just remembered I have to leave for that three-day conference tomorrow at noon. So, you’d better close it tonight, or we’ll have to wait three days.”

“Three days?” Lindsay squeaked, as if Cindy had just said eternity.

“Three days,” Cindy confirmed, moving forward until her lips were just below Lindsay’s. Calling it an inch would have been greatly exaggerating. Instinctively, Lindsay’s head dipped forward, but Cindy ducked out of her reach. “Better get a move on, Inspector.”

Before Lindsay had time to protest, Cindy pulled open the door and slipped back into the morgue. Shafted as she felt by Cindy’s quick departure, Lindsay couldn’t even fake a pout.