Extreme Sensitivity… as an oddly pleasant state to be in. – A Women’s Murder Club Series, part 21

TITLE: Extreme Sensitivity… as an oddly pleasant state to be in. (21/?)
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. (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.

(Lindsay’s POV)

The door was open, but Jill’s rather frazzled appearance compelled Lindsay to knock twice before swinging herself into the unusually cluttered office.

Glancing up abruptly at the sound, the absolute relief on Jill’s face was worthy of a photograph.

“Thank God. I thought you were Denise,” she uttered, massaging the back of her neck. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be off-duty?”

“I have some paperwork I can do,” Lindsay explained.

Jill nodded her understanding, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I tried calling you about a hundred times yesterday,” she said.

“You only called four times,” Lindsay corrected. “Sorry. I would have called you back, but it was late when I saw that you’d called.”

“Vacation bible school?” Jill hypothesized.

“I was with Cindy,” Lindsay revealed, trying to stem any further guesses as to why she hadn’t answered her phone.

“I know,” Jill surprised her by answering.

“How?”

“I tried calling her too,” Jill explained, a colossal smirk hijacking her face. “And there is only one thing in this world that could keep either of you from heeding her ringtone.”

Mind drifting back to the night before, Lindsay grinned, feeling a light blush start to work its way up her face when her thoughts ran away without her. She considered, for a moment, asking Jill, resident dating expert, how early was too early to call Cindy without it making her look like a desperate, lovesick spaz, but realized it would just give Jill more ammunition.

“Oh. Makes sense,” she simply conceded the point instead, backing out the door. “I just wanted to stop in and say hi. I should get to work.”

“Whoa,” Jill called before she could make it more than a single step out into the hall. “Get your ass in here and close the door.”

Knowing full well that she was going to regret not running while she had the opportunity, Lindsay did as directed. Door firmly closed, she hobbled over to Jill’s desk and took a seat, laying her crutches on the floor beside her, and waited for Jill to start.

“So how’d it go?”

The question considerably less invasive than she’d been expecting, Lindsay took a relieved breath.

“It was…” she hesitated, unsure how utterly romantic she wanted to let herself sound in front of Jill, who would surely run with it and use it for merciless teasing. “It was perfect. Saturday night, Cindy took me to this amazing restaurant. There was this incredible dessert -“

“Not the food, Linds,” Jill interrupted, leaning forward, gaze locked unnervingly on Lindsay. “The sex. How was the sex?”

Lindsay was shocked into momentary silence. Even for Jill, it seemed rather abrupt and invasive.

“Wow. That is so not your business,” Lindsay responded.

“It so is my business,” Jill argued. “If it weren’t illegal, I could probably go pro. Now come on. Is she as meticulous in that area as she is with everything else?”

While it was no big secret that Jill was a fan of the details, at least in this particular area, she seemed more fascinated than usual.

“How much thought have you given this?” Lindsay asked, eyes narrowing instinctively.

“Hey, calm down,” Jill responded quickly, hands going up in front of her to wave Lindsay off. “I know who Cindy belongs to. Always have. So come on, don’t be all secretive. How was she?”

She could have refused to tell, made Jill squirm a little, but if she did, as soon as she left Jill’s office, she was well aware that her blonde friend would pick up the phone and call Cindy, opening the conversation with something like, “So, I hear you’re good in the sack” just to teach her a lesson.

And maybe, just maybe, there was a little tiny part of her that wanted to share just how incredibly her weekend had turned out.

“She’s an amazing kisser,” Lindsay admitted, lips tingling in remembrance.

“I’d buy that,” Jill countered. “I trust she’s good at everything she does with her mouth.”

The smirking expression that followed the declaration verified the fact that Jill was enjoying this conversation far too much.

“Come on,” Jill coaxed. “Don’t stop there. I can’t handle the suspense.”

Lindsay averted her gaze and let the memories of the previous night wash over her. Her breathing picking up in response, she at once decided, desperate, lovesick spaz or not, she was calling Cindy as soon as she got done with Jill’s sexual Q&A.

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know if the sex was as good as the kissing,” Jill pronounced, slightly frustrated now.

Realizing all of a sudden that she had information that could shock the unshockable Jill Bernhardt, Lindsay smiled, sitting up straighter in her chair.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, thoroughly enjoying the way Jill’s head tilted and she looked rather baffled.

“What? Did you black out?” Jill recovered. “If so, that’s a definite thumbs up.”

“We haven’t had sex,” Lindsay informed her, waiting eagerly for the reaction.

Jill laughed as if the statement was a joke, coming to an abrupt halt when Lindsay didn’t join in.

“Oh please. The shirt and then the date and the fact that you were unreachable all day yesterday,” Jill reasoned, studying Lindsay carefully. “Oh my God, you really didn’t have sex?!?”

Whether drawn by the fact itself, or Jill’s absolute astonishment at it, Lindsay didn’t bother fighting the smile it brought to her lips.

“How did you not have sex with her?” Jill questioned incredulously.

Choosing to ignore the obvious implication that Jill would have taken Cindy, without a moment’s delay, given the chance, Lindsay shrugged.

“Well, at one point, I didn’t have a lot of say in the matter.”

That was the absolute truth. Given the choice between Cindy leaving Saturday night after their date, or staying to finish it with a bang, no pun intended, she would have definitely chosen the latter.

“What… is she a cock tease?” Jill asked.

That earned her a look.

“Ew. Number one, I don’t have a cock to tease,” Lindsay informed her, repulsed at even having to repeat Jill’s choice of words.

“It’s an idiom,” Jill quickly stated.

“It’s not an idiom,” Lindsay returned. “It’s a particularly gross slang term.”

“Fine, Sister Lindsay,” Jill uttered. “Did she get you all keyed up and leave you humming?”

Jill was incredibly proud of herself, and unusually smirky.

“Maybe,” Lindsay admitted.

“Is it totally torturous?” Jill asked, undoubtedly because she couldn’t imagine such a foreign sensation as denying herself her desires, even if only temporarily.

“Uh, yeah,” Lindsay declared. It was that for sure. Though, if she’d learned anything in the past few days, it was that the line between torture and anticipation was a lot hazier than she would have ever imagined it to be.

She could feel Jill’s eyes on her, steady and scrutinizing. Of course Jill was going to think her a leper for this type of behavior. Making a conscious choice not to have sex, especially with someone that Jill apparently found ultra-desirable, was grounds for being kicked out of the colony.

“And you love it!” Jill suddenly exclaimed, completely flabbergasted. “That is so freaking masochistic.”

Lindsay laughed lightly at the complete overreaction, wondering if Jill’s eyes might bulge out of her head if she gave it a few minutes. While explaining such a concept to Jill was more than likely an impossible feat, she could try at least.

“It’s nice,” Lindsay easily smiled, mind wandering to Cindy, what had been thus far, and what was yet to come, “knowing it’s still out there… you know?”

“No,” Jill replied immediately, unconverted.

“Trust me,” Lindsay replied.

“Well, if it works for you,” Jill conceded, sounding much like she would rather get her head caught in a bear trap than be sexually frustrated for an extended period of time. “So she’s a good kisser huh?”

Unable to put it into words, Lindsay dropped her head, self-conscious of her absurdly dreamy thoughts, and illogically afraid that they showed on her face.

“And clearly worth waiting for,” Jill reasoned, drawing Lindsay’s gaze back up.

She was met with an expression less humored, and more sincere, less about Jill’s amusement, and more about their friendship.

“You’re whipped, Linds,” she declared point blank.

Lindsay could have denied it, could have laughed it off and told Jill she was reading too much into things. But, since any contradiction would have been dishonest, and she didn’t want to lie to her best friend, she just smiled softly and didn’t say a word.