Extreme Sensitivity… as really fuckin’ frustrating. – A Women’s Murder Club Series, part 30

TITLE: Extreme Sensitivity… as really fuckin’ frustrating. (30/?)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never were. Never will be. No profit. Just love.

(Cindy’s POV)

Pulling up outside of Lindsay’s building and turning off the ignition, Cindy swiveled toward the backseat and was greeted by a look that was clearly pre-calculated, but, given the fact that Lindsay’s bed was only yards away, still had its desired effect.

Because here they were, there was Lindsay’s bedroom, plenty of hours remained in the night, and there was nobody around to interfere with anything that they might choose to do to each other during them.

“You are coming in, right?” Lindsay’s husk sent a shiver straight down Cindy’s spine that she was certain was visible but still didn’t bother trying to suppress.

Eagerness seizing her, Cindy fought not to bounce up and down in her seat and whirled back around, struggling out of her seat belt. Out of the driver’s seat and around the car in the time it would have taken the average human to sneeze, Cindy made it to the back passenger-side door as Lindsay was emerging.

One glance across the mere inches separating them and, as if the opinions and nosiness of her neighbors wasn’t even a fleeting thought, Lindsay pulled Cindy against her and Cindy found herself falling headlong into the kind of kiss people don’t generally recover from. Wrapping her arms around Lindsay’s shoulders to find some sort of balance, Cindy quickly realized that Lindsay was off her axis too. Wobbling away from the car, they stumbled onto the curb and Lindsay pulled away with a sharp hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Cindy asked instantly.

Stark pain unmistakably etched into every feature of Lindsay’s face, she shook her head anyway. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Despite the blatant lie, Cindy let Lindsay take her face into her hands and kiss her again, deep and slow, until she was convinced. By the time Lindsay pulled away from her, Cindy would have bought anything that she was selling.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Lindsay whispered, the words at once command and plea.

With a small nod, Cindy reluctantly slinked away toward the back of the car, lifting the key to liberate the larger of Lindsay’s bags from the trunk.

“Leave it,” Lindsay waved dismissively. “We’ll get it in the morning.”

With one ridiculously long arm, she reached out and pulled Cindy back toward her, while she retrieved her smaller bag from the back floorboard.

“Pretty cocky,” Cindy said with a devilish grin.

In a heartbeat, Lindsay’s face softened and Cindy fell for it before the words were even spoken. “Please stay.”

Leaning into Lindsay, Cindy pushed the car door closed. “Good luck getting rid of me,” she murmured and pushed onto her toes to press her lips softly to Lindsay’s.

Her arm slid around Lindsay’s waist, Lindsay’s arm tightened across her shoulders, and they moved up the walkway. As much as she wanted to pretend that it was just an affectionate gesture, Cindy didn’t miss the amount of weight Lindsay let rest on her or the slight limp she tried to conceal.

She didn’t bring it up as they made their way inside or as they went up the stairs, despite Lindsay’s pronounced hobble with each step. At the door of the apartment, Cindy waited patiently as Lindsay pulled out her keys and let them in.

When the door swung open though and Lindsay looked over at her with a big smile, putting her arm out as if waiting for Cindy to step under it and act as her human crutch, Cindy held steady just out of her reach.

“After you,” she uttered, watching the expected flash of panic shoot through Lindsay’s eyes.

“Okay,” Lindsay returned, smile fading a little as she grasped the doorframe and shuffled over the threshold.

Cindy stepped into the doorway behind her, following Lindsay’s slow, stiff movements as she turned on the lights. Positive that the scolding she was about to give was well-deserved, Cindy trailed Lindsay inside and closed the door.

“Alright, what’s going on, Lindsay? And don’t say nothing.”

Lindsay turned to her with such a disbelieving look that Cindy thought she might actually try to deny that there was an issue at hand. Instead, she sharply motioned with both hands toward her still-mending ankle.

“Ryan did this.”

Thrown by the unexpected response, Cindy’s eyebrows reached for her hairline.

“Ryan did what exactly?”

“This,” Lindsay motioned more emphatically. “She put a hex on me.”

A giggle escaping, Cindy tried to rein it back in when Lindsay looked rather miffed.

“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff,” she reminded Lindsay.

“Oh, I believe in it now,” Lindsay declared. “This is clearly some sort of ‘Cindy is mine, stay away from her’ voodoo curse.”

Biting back another round of laughter at Lindsay’s conviction, Cindy sighed instead. “While I would be more than happy to let Ryan take the blame for this, if this is anyone’s fault, I think it’s mine.”

“It’s not your fault,” Lindsay’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m pretty sure it was my hurdle over the seat back that did it.”

Silently agreeing that the seat jump was the likely cause and inwardly cursing the fact that their inability to control themselves earlier was about to cost them a fantastic night, Cindy slumped too.

“But it’s nothing we can’t work around.” Lindsay’s low drawl drew Cindy’s eyes back up.

With a positively sinful grin, Lindsay crooked her finger and Cindy went to her automatically.

Wrapping one long arm around her waist, Lindsay drew her in and kissed her deeply. The Earth tilted and they had to take a small step to stay on their feet.

“Ow,” Lindsay mumbled.

“I’m calling Claire,” Cindy announced, pulling away.

“No, don’t do that,” Lindsay insisted, dragging Cindy back toward her. “I’m fine. Let’s just get to the couch. As soon as I’m sitting, I’ll be fine. And if you’re sitting on top of me, I’ll be more than fine.”

With an infectious grin, Lindsay kissed Cindy again and moved toward the couch. Breaking from the kiss, she hopped backward on one foot, pulling Cindy along behind her, until she fell messily onto the cushions.

“See,” she said, yanking Cindy down into her lap. “All’s well.”

“You’re sure?” Cindy asked.

Lindsay leaned in and captured her lips again and, lost somewhere inside the kiss, Cindy forgot that she’d asked a question. At least until they made a slight shift in their positions.

“Ow.”

“Lind-”

Seemingly having figured out what worked the best for her, Lindsay cut off Cindy’s protestations with another kiss. Sliding backward off of Lindsay’s lap, Cindy felt herself falling slowly backward, Lindsay leaning down over her. Until Lindsay had to resituate.

“Ow.”

“That’s it!” Cindy declared, pushing back on Lindsay’s shoulders and slipping out from under her. “I’m calling Claire.”

“Oh, come on,” Lindsay whined. “Don’t do that.”

In a desperate search for Lindsay’s phone, Cindy ignored her appeal.

“Cindy,” Lindsay tried again.

Not finding the receiver anywhere in the living room, Cindy punched the locator button on the phone base with her finger and followed the beeping to Lindsay’s kitchen.

“Cindy!” Lindsay called after her. But staunchly holding her ground despite her mutual desire not to invite anyone else over, Cindy dialed the number.

As she waited for Claire to pick up, a low, pained groan issued forth from the sofa.

“We’re never gonna have sex.”