Extreme Sensitivity… as a sign of rapid progression. – A Women’s Murder Club Series, part 33

TITLE: Extreme Sensitivity… as a sign of rapid progression. (33/?)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never were. Never will be. No profit. Just love.

(Lindsay’s POV)

Time had moved backward, or stopped altogether, several times throughout the afternoon and early evening. Given the proper tools and some time for study, Lindsay was certain that she could determine which had taken place. But on another day. Because finally… FINALLY… seven o’clock had come. Well, not quite, but, considering the dire circumstances, Lindsay was also certain that Cindy would spot her the twenty-two minutes with grace.

Bounding up to Cindy’s door with as much vigor as her halfway-capable body allowed, Lindsay’s long arm spanned the distance and her finger anxiously pressed the buzzer for Cindy’s apartment. Foot tapping away the seconds, Lindsay didn’t let many pass before pressing the button again, this time holding it down for an extended length of time that she hoped would annoy Cindy enough that she would buzz her in even if she wasn’t quite ready for her.

But Cindy still didn’t answer. Not even to call down and tell her that she was early and that she wasn’t allowed to come up yet.

That’s when Lindsay started to worry.

Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, Lindsay tapped Cindy’s name and put the phone to her ear. After several exceedingly long rings that Lindsay could swear she heard through the walls of the building, Cindy’s chipper voice recording picked up.

And that’s when Lindsay started to panic.

Pushing the first name on the buzzer, Lindsay waited only a second before pushing the next name and then the next.

“Yes?” a random voice answered the unexpected intrusion.

“I’m a friend of Cindy Thomas. Could you let me in?”

“Who’s Cindy Thomas?”

“She lives in this building. Just let me…”

Before Lindsay could continue her cajoling of the person on the other end of the intercom, a window opened above her and a white-haired head looked down at her.

“What do you want?”

“Buzz me in.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m a cop,” Lindsay responded immediately, sliding her badge from her belt and wielding it like a season pass to the building. “Buzz me in.”

“Alright, alright,” the man grumbled and shut the window on her.

A few seconds later, the door buzzed, and Lindsay pushed inside.

Taking the steps two at a time, she ignored all pain the action caused and was standing outside Cindy’s door in seconds. She skipped the polite knocking stage and went straight to pounding. Each time her fist hit the door, Lindsay’s heart started beating faster until there was barely a pause between each one.

“Cindy?” Lindsay called through the wood barrier, not caring who she might be disturbing behind the other doors in the hallway. Because there was no way that Cindy would have left her high and dry like this. There  surely would have been some kind of notification if Cindy had to cancel on her.

Lindsay pounded on the door again, finally giving up after what felt like quite some time and drawing her gun. Poised in perfect door-kicking-in position, Lindsay was a millisecond away from costing Cindy her security deposit when she finally heard the lock click and the door inched open in front of her.

Gun still at the ready, Lindsay dropped her guard when Cindy appeared, looking somewhat disheveled, from the darkness inside.

“What time is it?” she asked, looking completely baffled.

Exhaling a deep, calming breath, Lindsay fought the urge to yank Cindy into her arms and either hold her until she suffocated or shake her simple for scaring the hell out of her. “Date time,” she calmly responded instead. “You had me worried.”

“I can see that,” Cindy said, watching Lindsay reholster her gun, before grabbing her by the hand and pulling her over the threshold. “Come in.”

Cindy sounded out of it and not terribly well, and, Lindsay hated to even think it, she looked even worse.

“Are you okay?” Lindsay questioned, putting her hand on Cindy’s back, as Cindy turned on the light and they both blinked to adjust to it.

“Yeah, of course, I’m fine,” Cindy sniffed. “I guess… I guess I fell asleep.” She glanced toward the sofa, and then her eyes trailed to the kitchen. “And I didn’t finish dinner,” she seemed to realize, clearing something from her throat and sniffing again, much to Lindsay’s dismay. “Let me just go change and we’ll go out to eat, okay? Just give me a minute.”


“It’s okay, Linds,” Cindy interrupted. “It’ll just take me a minute.”


“I’ll be right out, I promise,” Cindy responded, still trekking toward the bedroom.

“Cindy.” Lindsay stated firmly, which succeeded in drawing Cindy to a halt just steps from her bedroom door. When Cindy turned around to face her, Lindsay’s eyes traveled down her pale face to the sweat sticking Cindy’s shirt to her chest. Cindy took a labored breath, and Lindsay sighed in sympathy. “You’re sick.”

“No!” Cindy insisted. “I’m not sick. I’m not. It’s just allergies and I just need to take some…” A couple of quick inhalations, and Cindy raised the back of her hand to her nose, catching her forceful sneeze, which was followed by a series of painful-sounding coughs. Lowering her hand slowly, as if anticipating further germ spewage, Cindy looked up at Lindsay and instantly burst into tears.

Lindsay crossed the space between them in three long strides and pulled Cindy against her chest. Though she, of course, felt some disappointment at the turn of events, she wasn’t nearly as upset as Cindy. Given the situation of a few moments earlier, what was important about this night had rapidly changed. Finding Cindy alive and safe had pretty much given her everything she needed.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” Cindy asked quietly.

“I told you I was worried,” Lindsay murmured. “I was about to bust down your door.”

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Lindsay responded simply, placing a kiss on top of the halo of red beneath her chin.

“Good thing you didn’t. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself again,” Cindy uttered. “How do you feel?”

“Better than you,” Lindsay declared.

“I took medicine,” Cindy whimpered.

“Which apparently did little more than knock you out.”

“Ryan really did do this,” Cindy started. “The little-”

“Shhh,” Lindsay breathed, trying to calm her clammy little warrior.

“She did though,” Cindy went on. “She was out sick yesterday. She trailed us all the way to Napa with her evil germiness and ruined both then and now.” Cindy’s voice continued to rise in volume, but trailed off in a cough that came from somewhere deep and lasted for several seconds.

Lindsay rubbed the back under her hands, trying to soothe away all of the pain at once, from the vicious cold to the excruciating sexual tension.

After a still, quiet moment, in which Cindy let herself be pampered, Lindsay felt Cindy stir against her. “You should go. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Or you could go put on your PJs and I’ll try to find us something to eat,” Lindsay countered.

Cindy lifted her head groggily and looked up at her. “You don’t have to stay and take care of me.”

“I know,” Lindsay replied, smiling softly down at Cindy.

Despite her red nose and watery eyes, Cindy still looked like she wanted nothing more than to forget that she was sick and move onto the activities that had brought them there in the first place. But then her eyes scrunched up, she turned her head away and coughed.

“Go put on your PJs,” Lindsay ordered.

Cindy pulled away on a moan. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she plodded off.

“It’s okay,” Lindsay assured her, smiling at her back all the way into the bedroom.

As soon as Cindy was out of sight though, despite the fact that her priorities had altered substantially since she’d arrived at Cindy’s door, Lindsay still took a moment to look to the ceiling and silently ask God if he was fucking with her.

Cindy returned in her pajamas a moment later, looking downright adorable, though sick as hell.

“Do you need anything right now?” Lindsay asked, walking her ashen girlfriend over to the sofa and putting a pillow beneath her head as Cindy lay down.

“Just food when it’s ready.”

Running her thumb over Cindy’s cheek, Lindsay nodded and started into the kitchen.

“Linds?” the soft voice called her back. “Actually… could you get me Mr. Muffles?”

“Mr. Muffles?” Lindsay asked, eyebrow raising of its own accord.

Cindy nodded. “He’s in the Tupperware container in my closet. He should be on top.”

Curiosity suddenly piqued, Lindsay was more than happy to do Cindy’s bidding. Finding first the buried container, and then the well-loved stuffed creature inside of it, Lindsay smiled and walked back out to the living room with the floppy toy in hand. When Cindy’s eyes opened at her approach, Lindsay wiggled the animal in the air.

“What’s this thing supposed to be? A rabbit?” Lindsay questioned, settling Mr. Muffles into Cindy’s outstretched hand.

“He was a dog at one time,” Cindy’s voice rasped.

“Whoa. Really? How old is that?”

“Almost as old as me,” Cindy answered.

Lindsay smirked. “So, barely legal then.”

As if challenging the accusation, Cindy pushed up onto her elbow, closing some of the distance between them and meeting Lindsay’s eyes with her own. “Makes you even more hot for me, doesn’t it?”

And despite the fact that Cindy looked scarcely able to hold her head up and sniffled at the end of her query, it somehow didn’t make it any less sexy.

Cindy couldn’t keep up the image for long though. After a few seconds of holding Lindsay in her beam of sensuality, she gave up and dropped her head back down to the pillow, gazing up with droopy eyes.

“Chicken soup?” Lindsay asked.

Managing a slight nod, Cindy hugged Mr. Muffles tightly to her chest. “Thanks.”

“Do you want me to turn the TV on for you?”

“No. I think I’d rather just listen to the sound of you in my kitchen.”

Taken by a feeling that, in itself, wasn’t all that surprising by the statement, Lindsay was surprised by the way that it seized her in the moment. Heart kicking up its pace again, she could feel every vigorous thump against her ribcage.

She kissed Cindy on the forehead and stepped away from the situation, through the kitchen archway and straight over to the counter. Spreading her hands across the countertop to keep her balance, Lindsay found that it was too late for that. Suddenly, her whole world seemed to be tipping in Cindy’s direction.

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  1. Uh oh, panic and worry.

    Dammit she is sick.

    Lindsay still took a moment to look to the ceiling and silently ask God if he was fucking with her. – And by God you mean “Riley” and the answer is yes.

    *le sigh*

  2. Thank you for continuing one of my favourite L/C fictions. Great job as usual. I can’t wait to see what else comes next.

  3. Waaahhhh! Again – dunno if it’s killing my two favourite characters, but – poop! And if ‘God’ equates with ‘Riley’ yeah, Linds is gonna be waiting. Again. Poop.

  4. There was so much ‘aw’ in the last paragraphs that it makes up for the lack of action. 😉

    And in case I haven’t said it lately, thank you for sharing your stories. 🙂

  5. “And by God you mean “Riley” and the answer is yes.” – Heh.

    “Poor-little-Cindy there!” – I know, I know. I don’t like making Cindy sick. But isn’t sickly, needy Cindy just the most adorable thing ever?

    “There was so much ‘aw’ in the last paragraphs that it makes up for the lack of action.” – I always torture with purpose.

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