Extreme Sensitivity… as so that little bitch’s fault. – A Women’s Murder Club Series, part 26

TITLE: Extreme Sensitivity… as so that little bitch’s fault. (26/?)
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.

(Cindy’s POV)

When they walked through the door to their room and Cindy saw the phone actually in Ryan’s hand, it took all of Lindsay’s strength to keep her from lunging and raining a world of pain all over the uninvited, irritating wannabe.

“You just made it,” Ryan said cockily and hung up the phone.

Lindsay’s hands tightened instantly, which was a blessing for Ryan, since Cindy’s internal hard drive was already flipping rapidly through the techniques she’d learned the week before in “Ninja Moves for Dummies”. She’d probably lack style, but she was certain that she could capture the necessary level of fury.

“Seriously?” she scoffed. “You were actually going to call and tattle on me?”

“I told you I was,” Ryan responded.

“Well yeah. But I was really hoping you were just being a jackass. I didn’t know you were really a goody two-shoes tattletale.”

“You gave me a list of people you had already interviewed!”

“Yeah I did,” Cindy crossed her arms in satisfaction. “Exactly how many witnesses into the list did you get before you realized that?”

Ryan grabbed the phone again and held it menacingly in their direction. “I’m calling.”

The smartest thing would have been to make peace, backpedal, apologize and grovel until Ryan dropped the receiver back into its cradle. But bitterness at both the blatant threat and the interrupted time with Lindsay shoved smarts right out of the arena.

“I will seriously suffocate you with a pillow.”

“No-no-no-no-no,” Lindsay finally joined the conversation. “No she won’t, Ryan. I promise she won’t suffocate you. Just put the phone down, please.”

The foul look Ryan directed Lindsay’s way, for Cindy, was like a line in the sand. And she was more than ready to cross that line, ring the girl’s scrawny neck and kick sand in her face while she was down. When Lindsay’s hands closed around her waist again, preventing her forward momentum, Cindy wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or infuriating.

“You two are the ones who are doing something you’re not supposed to be. And now you’re going to threaten me too?”

“No threat,” Lindsay assured Ryan, but Cindy was feeling a lot less generous. It was hardly the first time she’d seen this game. Lindsay might even say that it was a strategy she’d seen Cindy use herself on occasion.

“What do you want?” she asked Ryan, cutting through the pretense so they could end this conversation sooner than later.

Without any further hedging, Ryan returned the phone to the cradle and tried not to smile. A small smirk came through instead, and Cindy really wished that Lindsay would let go so that she could just scare Ryan. Just a little.

“I want to shadow you,” Ryan declared.

“You what?” Cindy uttered. It was even worse than she had imagined.

“I want to shadow you. I want to really see what you do. I want to work your stories.”

“Why?” Cindy almost pleaded. Couldn’t she just ask for a few thousand dollars – any sort of payoff that would allow her to avoid Ryan’s presence for the rest of her life?

“Because I want to,” Ryan answered.

Cindy sighed. If she’d been reasonable from the beginning, maybe just maybe there would be another way out. But she’d run in all hotheaded and out for blood, and managed to implode every escape route behind her. The only way out now was to take Ryan by her cold, self-centered, manipulative hand and act like they were bestest friends.

“Fine,” she said through her teeth. “Keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you follow me around.”

“Really?” Ryan seemed ridiculously overjoyed.

“What choice do I have?” Cindy inquired, not only of Ryan, but of anyone who could possibly provide her an alternative solution.

“Well, let’s go,” Ryan exclaimed, grabbing her notebook and pen and jumping up from the bed.

“Great!” Cindy returned with a profusion of the fakest enthusiasm she’d ever mustered.

Watching Ryan practically gallop for the door, Cindy grabbed her own tools of the trade, turned and pushed onto her tiptoes to press her lips to Lindsay’s for an all-too-short kiss that ended with the clearing of Ryan’s throat, and followed her underhanded new protégé from the room.