Inamorata (1/36) – WMC fic

PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Characters, not mine. Story, mine.

Kiss-Me-Not could end up being spared the trouble. Because he wasn’t the only person who wanted Lindsay dead, and she’d been so distracted lately, it wasn’t all that surprising that she’d taken two to her vest and spent the last hour in the emergency room to find out it was only a couple of bruised ribs and that she could expect it to hurt like hell for a few days.

If she wasn’t careful, she knew that Tom would take her off duty, which she was still on only because she had pleaded with him not to subject her to being trapped in the quasi-safe house without any outside privileges. Her argument had sounded reasonable enough. Where would she be safer than in the field with Jacobi, most of the time flanked by other cops? If she kept proving that theory untrue though, she’d be at a desk, or worse, stuck in this place twenty-four hours a day.

“Inspector Boxer…” the current officer on-duty started as she walked through the door.

Lindsay put her hand up to halt another update on security measures taken on her behalf.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, without any chance for rebuttal, and stalked off toward the fortified bedroom they’d assigned to her at the back of the house.

The room was totally dark when she walked in, and it gave her a moment of pause in the doorway. She hated this. She hated being afraid. She hated being alone. She turned and hit the light switch with unnecessary force, hurting her hand in the process.

“What did you hear?”

She recognized the voice immediately, but instinct caused Lindsay to draw her gun anyway and pivot around, pointing it at Cindy, who didn’t seem all that impressed, or startled, by the fact that she had a gun aimed at her, yet again, courtesy of the inspector.

When the reality of the situation set in, Lindsay dropped her gun to her side.

“What in the hell are you doing?!? I could have killed you!”

“What did you hear?” Cindy asked again. “When Jill said that we were here for you, that nothing was going to happen to you, what did you hear?”

Lindsay pushed the bedroom door closed to impede any inquisitive listeners in the house and looked over at Cindy.

“Jacobi brought you here?”

“He told me what happened. I made him bring me.”


Lindsay laid her gun on the bedside table, and removed her holster and badge.

“Did you hear that you shouldn’t talk to us? Did you hear that we were scared to be near you? Because that’s not what was said, Lindsay. Nobody said push us away.”

“That was before.”

Lindsay didn’t need to say before what, because she knew that it was understood.

It was before she came home from work one night to find Martha gutted and hanging in her living room.

Before she screamed so loudly that it caused the neighbors to call the police.

Before they found the note, the one that said, “You die last,” pinned to Martha’s body.

Before she was moved into this house with round the clock security and hourly sweeps.

Before she became too risky to be around.

Lindsay went to the one window they allowed to not be completely covered, though there were bars across it. She peered through the blinds, looking for any sign that someone might be waiting outside in the bushes.

“You need to go home,” she said, making sure there was no gap left where she’d moved the blinds.

“No,” Cindy said. “Not until you talk to me.”

“What is there to say?” Lindsay asked angrily. “You know why I am doing this. It’s not like this is what I want.”

“Then, it doesn’t have to be this way. We’re here, Linds. We’ve been here. We just want to help you.”

“You can’t.”

“We can if you let us,” Cindy returned quietly.

“No you can’t!” Lindsay yelled, stalking toward Cindy and backing her into the wall, her hand landing just beside Cindy’s head, locking her in place. “I don’t want to come home and find you hanging in the middle of my living room, slit from your fucking throat down. Do you know what that must have felt like? And that note did not mean the dog, Cindy. His targets aren’t canine. He was talking about people like you.”

In her desperation to make Cindy understand, Lindsay started to lose her composure. The undisguised compassion in Cindy’s eyes only made it worse. Lindsay put her free hand on the wall on the other side of Cindy’s head and lost it completely. She hadn’t cried, not since this had all started. She didn’t have the time. She didn’t have the emotion left.


She felt Cindy’s arms come around her, holding her tightly.

Now she couldn’t stop crying. She couldn’t be strong. Not for this one moment. She lowered her arms to Cindy’s shoulders and wrapped them around her neck.

“You were shot. Just let me take care of you,” she heard Cindy whisper.

And, for the first time since walking into the scene in her apartment, Lindsay felt safe. She felt Cindy’s arms around her and Cindy’s sturdiness, and heard her continued murmurs that didn’t need to make any sense, and she felt safe enough to let the crying continue until it was out of her system.

When it finally subsided, she became aware of other things. She became aware of the contact with Cindy’s body. The heat emanating from it. She felt Cindy’s breath on her throat and Cindy’s lips there. Then, Cindy’s teeth scraped across her skin. Standing became difficult, so she leaned Cindy back against the wall. During the move, Cindy’s thigh shifted between her legs, setting off something uncontrollable.

Lindsay grabbed hold of Cindy’s hair and yanked hard, pulling Cindy’s head back and swallowing any cry that might have come from her in a ravenous kiss. Cindy not pushing her away was all the consent she needed to move her other hand to the button of Cindy’s khakis and pull it open with a hard tug. She slipped her hand down the front of them and found what she was searching for, undeniable proof of how much she was wanted.

Cindy pressed forward against her hand, silently pleading for more. So, Lindsay gave it to her roughly, slamming her against the wall again and again and biting hard enough on her lip to taste blood. When Lindsay lowered her attentions to Cindy’s neck and bit down, Cindy threw her head back and moaned, and her knees gave out, and Lindsay was left holding her up.

Lindsay pulled her hand away and let go of Cindy’s hair, and Cindy sank down the wall. It might have been weakness that took her to the floor, but once she was down there, she wasted no time in reaching out for the waistband of Lindsay’s jeans, unfastening them and tugging downward.

Lindsay should have kicked her out then, but it was weakness that made her grab Cindy by the arms instead, and draw her up off of the floor and into an insistent kiss, as she moved backward toward the bed. Cindy pushed down on Lindsay’s jeans and panties on the way and Lindsay kicked them off as she lied back on the mattress.

Cindy lifted up on Lindsay’s shirt to place a string of kisses across the bandage around her ribs, then sank down to her knees again before her. It was the only thing in the universe that could have made Lindsay stop thinking about everything. She was aware only of Cindy’s mouth and tongue and Cindy’s hands holding on fiercely to her thighs. And then she was aware of euphoria so overwhelming, she thought for a moment she might black out. And there was a small interval when she was coming back to earth when Lindsay was cognizant only of Cindy crawling up her body and leaning over her and bringing their lips together. Then, the mist faded and it all came crashing back.

Lindsay ripped her mouth away from Cindy’s.

“Now get out,” she said frigidly, finding a brown spot on the ceiling to stare at to avoid the look she knew Cindy would have on her face.

“Linds…” Cindy begged softly. “Don’t.”

“If I need you to take care of me again,” Lindsay responded, lowering her detached gaze to Cindy’s. “I’ll give you a call.”

She sounded cold, even to herself, despite the fact that she had the inside knowledge that she was doing this for Cindy’s own good, to keep her safe.

The deep freeze produced its desired result. Cindy pushed up from the bed almost instantly. Lindsay kept her eyes glued to the spot she’d found as she listened to the sounds of Cindy zipping up her pants and walking to the door. It opened and closed, and Lindsay forced herself to hold firmly to the icy lack of emotion.

When she heard the front door slam, she couldn’t. She rolled into a ball on her side, pulling the blanket over her and her legs tight to her chest, choking on the sudden torrent of tears.


Similar Posts


  1. After that perhaps ill-advised exclamation, I’m going to go ahead and say “this is going to be much darker, isn’t it…”

  2. I… umm, well… *blank stare*

    Killing Martha was a bit brutal. And to be honest, that’s what I was thinking about the whole time I was reading this… why kill the poor, innocent dog? I… I’m at a loss for words.

    Could/would Lindsay be that cold to Cindy?

  3. Indeed, it is considerably darker, but there will be a few moments when it’s not quite so dark, I promise. It’s definitely a departure from “House Arrest”. Hopefully that won’t make you all hate it!

    I knew that it might be a disappointment, since it’s so different. I’ve been trying to come up with an idea that’s a little lighter to write at the same time… for my own sanity.

    Would Lindsay be that cold to Cindy?

    To keep her alive? Absolutely. I’d love to hear other thoughts on this.

    Paper cut healing nicely… nothing left but a piece of rough skin and a pout-inducing memory.

  4. i always thought martha kind of got in the way. but, i agree that lindsay would push cindy away to keep her safe. i don’t know if she would really allow herself to “take advantage” of cindy with no intent to follow through, but there is a serial killer after her so i guess all bets are off.

    is kiss-me-not going to get cindy??? oh, the drama.

  5. wow, jeez…very good…I mean…I agree with you that Lindsay would only be that hard(and cold) in order to protect Cindy and she did cry after which only proved to me that…that act of being hard was tuff on her and she does truly care. Thanks for starting a new story:) and I like that your exploring different parts of there personalities.

  6. Ok so after having a night to think on this story (which I did, trust me), I realize that yes, Lindsay really COULD be that cold to Cindy if her life depended on it. I think Lindsay does have the ability to love someone *that* much. I can tell this story is going to be a great emotional ride… I can’t wait.

  7. Don’t worry, and thanks for the concern. Nothing tragic has happened. Well, not too tragic anyway. I just got the flu 🙁

    It’s the second time in my life I’ve had it and, let me tell you, I was over it the first time. It’s one of those so-sick-you-can’t-think-straight fever and cough fests.

    And I actually got a flu shot this year! Go figure.

  8. …wow.

    I mean…

    That was so cold and intense I actually stopped and said “damn!”

    I totally get that Lindsay could hurt her that bad to save her.

    I think I should find something to hold onto before I continue reading this one. I got a bit of whiplash coming from “Extreme Sensitivity” to this.

  9. Whoa… What a start!

    Dark, and intense, and I can already tell that I’m going to love it!

    I’m way late to the game, in terms of reading this, but am excited to see where you take this! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.