Inamorata (3/36) – WMC fic

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

A ringing phone had never been something Lindsay found particularly appealing. Usually when there was a phone ringing, it was keeping her from doing something more important. Then, after Kiss-Me-Not struck her where she lived, she refused to answer it for a while, convinced that he had the ability to get in anywhere, and didn’t feel at all safe having a conversation that could potentially be overheard, no matter how many times the office was swept for bugs and how often her phone was switched out. But now, as her only faithful mode of contact with the people she cared about, every time the phone rang, she got giddy like a kid who just found out she got something in the mail. Especially lately. Especially when the caller ID popped up with a certain redhead’s name, a redhead she felt extraordinarily lucky was still speaking to her at all.

“Hey,” Lindsay answered, suspecting that anyone within hearing range could tell the difference between her voice when she normally answered the phone and her voice when she answered the phone to this one particular caller.

“Hey,” Cindy said back softly, sending a pleasant shiver down Lindsay’s spine. “Team meeting in Claire’s office in five.”

Lindsay glanced around mechanically before responding. There was still an element of trepidation in meeting with them. She always felt so paranoid now. But knowing that Cindy was just downstairs was far too enticing to keep away.

“I’ll be right down.”

It didn’t take five minutes. She was downstairs in two.

She gave Claire, who was still working on a body, a slight wave as she walked through the morgue, and headed into her office. She expected to find two people waiting in there, but there was only one.

“Jill?”

“Still on her way,” Cindy responded.

Lindsay reached behind her for the door and pushed it closed, hoping she wasn’t testing any boundaries. An instant later, she was catching Cindy as she bounded into her arms. They had talked on the phone. A lot. Like ten times a day a lot. But they hadn’t seen each other since the last time in Claire’s office, and Lindsay still wasn’t absolutely certain what terms they were on, but Cindy rushing into her arms felt like a pretty good sign. It felt pretty good period.

Her lips found Cindy’s automatically, and the soft moan Cindy produced as a result made her stomach flip in earnest.

“How have you been?” Lindsay asked breathlessly, between kisses, unable to relinquish Cindy’s mouth to let her speak freely.

“Okay,” Cindy breathed against her lips. “You?”

“Okay,” Lindsay responded.

Then she captured Cindy’s lips in a searing kiss. The way that Cindy kissed her back, not just viscerally, not just passionately, but so openly, so genuinely, threatened to take Lindsay right to her knees… which really wouldn’t be good at the moment.

“This sucks,” Lindsay groaned, pulling away.

Cindy looked up at her in nervous confusion.

“Not this,” Lindsay assured her. “This is… this is amazing. But this situation is far from desirable.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Cindy said, eyeing Lindsay’s lips and licking her own. “It’s better than it was.”

“I’m not saying that it’s not,” Lindsay said quickly. She really didn’t want to do that misunderstanding. “It’s just…”

Cindy looked up into her eyes with her natural inquisitive, unguarded expression, making what Lindsay was about to tell her even more true.

Lindsay slid her hand up to cradle Cindy’s head, leaning in close to put her lips right by Cindy’s ear, and inhaled her scent. “You make me crazy, and I want more.”

“Jesus, Linds,” Cindy gripped the sides of Lindsay’s shirt tightly, her hot breath rushing out against the side of Lindsay’s neck.

To say that Lindsay’s willpower was working at maximum capacity was a serious understatement.

“It’s only temporary,” Cindy added.

“I know,” Lindsay responded, pulling away while she still had the ability.

“This sucks,” Cindy uttered quietly.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Cindy laughed at the overly-dramatic response, and Lindsay found that she felt like laughing too… for the first time in a very long time. It managed to break the lust-induced haze over the room. But without that desire, that very overwhelming, very electrifying, desire clouding her mind, other, more worrisome, thoughts had room to sneak in.

“We’re okay?” she asked Cindy for about the thousandth time since they’d last seen each other.

“Obviously,” Cindy said, then quickly turned serious. “You have to stop asking me that.”

“I just…” Lindsay lifted her hand to Cindy’s cheek, ran her fingers over the soft skin there. “I’m really glad we’re okay.”

“We’re okay.”

“Okay,” Lindsay responded, still not completely assured, but getting a little more so every time Cindy declared it.

“I want to give you this,” Cindy said, unclasping a necklace from her throat and pulling it out of her shirt. “It’s a Saint Christopher’s medal. It was given to me when I left for college to keep me safe. It’s worked so far. I know how you feel about superstitions, but I still want you to have it.”

“Don’t you think you should keep it? If it’s worked so far, why ruin a good thing now?”

“I’ll feel better knowing that you have it.”

There was so much sincerity in Cindy’s eyes, Lindsay struggled to breathe normally under its force.

“Okay,” Lindsay responded quietly, taking the chain, clasping it around her neck, and tucking it inside her own shirt.

Cindy was right. She really didn’t do superstition, but she liked the idea of having something of Cindy’s always with her. Because she couldn’t have Cindy always with her. Not right now.

Though she really wanted to, she didn’t risk kissing Cindy again, knowing that she possessed absolutely no ability to control herself where Cindy was concerned. She felt like a damned teenager around her. Instead, she pulled Cindy into an extended hug that had no chance of ending on its own. It was only when the door opened that Lindsay slowly extracted herself to look back. Jill was standing there with a head-tilt and a look of mild surprise.

“Hey guys,” she said.

“Hey,” Lindsay responded easily.

“Sorry it took me so long,” Jill said, fighting her clear urge to ask what all the affection was about. “Denise got her claws in me. Have I missed anything?”

Lindsay glanced at Cindy, trying not to get too much enjoyment out of the light blush that spread rapidly over Cindy’s face.

“No,” Lindsay responded. “We’re still waiting on Claire.”

Claire walked in a split second later as if psychically summoned.

“Oh my God. What is that?” Jill asked disgustedly, pointing to an unidentified substance on Claire’s sleeve.

“I thought I’d gotten some of Ms. Charles up inside my jacket,” Claire responded as if having someone’s insides all over her sleeve was a common occurrence. Of course, for her, it probably was.

Jill made it to the trashcan just in time and Claire started changing out of her shirt.

Lindsay took advantage of their distraction, sliding over to Cindy, and resting her hand low on Cindy’s back.

“You know, when you’re trying to pretend that you’re not being caught at something, it helps to look like you haven’t been caught at something,” she teased lightly.

“I can’t help it. I’m light-complected,” Cindy moaned, blushing even more.

Her eyes locked peripherally with Lindsay’s for only a moment, but it was enough to make Lindsay desperately sorry that their alone time was over. She sighed and moved away from Cindy, before the temptation became too much to resist.