Inamorata (35/36) – WMC fic

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

In the moment, Lindsay could fathom no worse feeling than the all-too-familiar sights, sounds and sensations of waking into solitude.

With the way that Cindy had come to her, the way that Cindy had responded to her, the way that Cindy had held her, was she really that naïve in falling asleep with the belief that the worst was behind them? Perhaps there had been some lingering uncertainty about how things might be when they woke up, but she had at least expected Cindy to be there.

Whether it was that the dam had broken beyond repair or that her emotions were still just too raw from the night before, more than likely owing to a little of both, Lindsay felt silent tears crawling down her face without any attempts at preventing them. Until she heard light footsteps on the stairs, she didn’t even bother wiping them away. By then, it was too late, and too evident, to deny that they had been there.

“What’s wrong?” Cindy asked right away, her expression instantly warping to concern.

If Lindsay had been in a position to do so, she would have kicked herself. Hard. For half a second, Cindy might have actually been smiling.

“Nothing,” Lindsay shook her head, the heels of her palms coming to her eyes, trying to rub the trace tears away, until the dip of the bed beside her and Cindy’s hand, gentle through the sheet, coming to rest on her abdomen forced her hands away.

Cindy just looked at her, head tilted, a question there that Lindsay couldn’t ignore.

“It really is nothing,” she started uneasily. “I just… I just didn’t know where you were.”

“Lindsay,” Cindy breathed with an expression brimming with the unspoken. It wasn’t pitying or adoring or remorseful. It contained trace elements of all of those things and so much more.

Lindsay held her breath through the next silent moment, in which it felt as if Cindy was trying to read every thought, fear and emotion, good, bad, or indefinable, that she’d ever experienced. And if there was anyone who could do it…

The hand covering hers started moving, a thumb rubbing over the back in a soft, consoling touch, and Lindsay was released from the fixed gaze as Cindy leaned forward to kiss her, their mouths clutching for long seconds before Cindy pulled away. It was the kind of kiss that assured her that there would be forward movement only, no going back.

“I’m right here,” Cindy whispered, forehead resting against Lindsay’s for a moment. “I was just starting coffee.”

Lindsay laughed self-consciously, and it earned a soft smile that was more affectionate than amused.

Her eyes moved over Cindy’s face, finding no anxiety or apprehension. Just Cindy, slightly changed maybe, but still so perfect.

Her hand slid out from beneath Cindy’s smaller one, switching their positions, and caressed gently up a smooth forearm.

“Are you okay?”

“I am,” Cindy softly answered with an assuring nod. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lindsay breathed, browsing for something across the room to focus on. “I’m sorry.”

Lithe fingers gripped her chin tenderly and led her face back around.

“For what?” Cindy queried in a gritty whisper. “Being human?”

Her fingers continued to play over Lindsay’s face, smoothing over an eyebrow, moving down a temple, tracing along a cheekbone. Lindsay felt entirely overpowered by the slight touch.

“Please don’t apologize to me for things that you feel like you have to apologize to other people for.”

It was such a sincere request, so heartfelt, Lindsay automatically nodded her agreement.

“So, after breakfast and adequate time to digest, do you want to check out the pool?” Cindy asked, suddenly brightening.

“If you do,” Lindsay instantly replied.

“Do you want to?”

It could have been a redundant question, but it wasn’t. And Lindsay got it. It was Cindy effectively putting an end to the recent pattern of unquestioning compliance with her every whim.

“You’ll be in a bikini?”

Cindy’s smile grew twice as big and a hundred times sweeter in response to the question.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m in.”

Two hours later, she was watching Cindy strip off her shirt to reveal the top half of the pale yellow two-piece. Everyone else was off somewhere earning the money to be able to afford living in this place of awesome amenities, so the pool and its surroundings were theirs alone.

Lindsay couldn’t take her eyes off of Cindy as she removed her lounge pants and looked somewhat bashfully over at her before walking down to the deep end and diving in. She reemerged in the center of the pool, rising up like a mermaid from the water.

“You coming in?”

Lindsay responded to the invitation by quickly shedding her outer clothing and moving to the edge of the pool, Cindy’s gaze trailing her the entire way.

“Is it warm?”

“What fun would it be if I told you?” Cindy responded with a smile.

Lindsay took the coward’s entrance, the nearby ladder, slowly dropping down into the tepid water. She turned to find Cindy moving toward her, and waited expectantly for the contact. Cindy’s arms came around her neck and her hands automatically settled on the small body in front of her.

“It’s warm,” Cindy smiled at her before looking around. “This is nice.”

“Yeah, it is,” Lindsay responded, eyes never straying from the curious face before her.

Cindy looked back at her, eyes clear and unspoiled, a small smile playing on her lips. A relatively chaste kiss and she was backing out of Lindsay’s needy arms.

“Want to race? I’ll go easy on you,” she promised with a wink.

“I think I’d rather watch,” Lindsay responded.

The statement was true in all kinds of ways.

“If that’s what you want to do,” Cindy said with a gorgeous smile and slight shrug, and dove back under.

She’d clearly gotten her usual energy back. After watching her do several laps back and forth, eyes peeled for any sign of distress from the water, Lindsay realized what she was doing. She also realized how completely unhealthy it was. It was in her nature to be protective. It was even more in her nature to be protective of Cindy. That would never stop. The increased diligence in doing so after what had happened was natural. But there was going to come a time when she couldn’t be with Cindy constantly. Eventually Cindy would want to return to her life as it was, to some degree of freedom and independence, and would once again see attempts at keeping her safe as a source of aggravation. Eventually Lindsay would have to go back to her own job. She would still do everything in her power to keep Cindy safe, but she wasn’t going to become Cindy’s 24/7 guardian angel for the rest of her life. At some point she was going to have to trust that Cindy remembered how to swim.

In an effort to distract herself from monitoring Cindy’s well-being like a lifeguard, Lindsay turned to swim the length of the pool, sparing Cindy one short glance before putting her head down and just moving back and forth, again and again, until anxiety over whether or not Cindy was safe started to become certainty that she would be. Cindy knew how to take care of herself. She’d proven it time and time again. Being a one-time victim of a psychopath didn’t change that.

When Lindsay came up at the edge of the water some time later, a lilting voice drew her attention.

“You’re right. It is a good show,” Cindy smiled from her spectator’s seat on the side of the pool. She eased back down into the water, slowly approaching Lindsay.

A deep sigh flowed out of Lindsay as Cindy’s arms came around her neck again and she felt the water stir around her before Cindy was pressed up against her, skin slicking against skin. When Cindy’s legs wrapped firmly around her waist, her body light as nothingness in the water, Lindsay struggled to draw breath.

“Sounds like someone’s going to have to get back in shape before returning to duty.”

“I have been a little lazy,” Lindsay admitted, swallowing in an effort to create a more efficient airway, “but I really don’t think my fitness level has much to do with it.”

If Cindy didn’t seem to be so pleased with it, the noticeable tremble in her voice might have been embarrassing. But any thoughts of that sort were effectively annihilated by the feel of gentle lips pressing to the skin just below her ear.

“Mmm… chlorine,” Cindy hummed against the ear.

Lindsay chuckled lightly as brown eyes met hers an instant before Cindy’s lips crashed against her own in a most welcome attack. As Cindy’s lips assailed hers, licking and nibbling her into a state of near incoherence, Lindsay’s hands slid across Cindy’s lower back, pulling her in tighter against her. Cindy’s legs tightened around her waist and she pulled away on a gasp.

“Maybe we should go back,” Cindy panted.

Lindsay could only nod her agreement.

They somehow made it out of the pool, wrapping the towels around themselves in lieu of their clothes, which were gathered haphazardly up in arms.

Their ride up in the elevator would have made for one great show if the door had opened to an occupied floor, but, as their luck would have it, it didn’t open until they reached their own. They stumbled out kissing and passed the entrance to their apartment before coming to their senses enough to locate it.

There was an instant of panic when Lindsay was unlocking the door that she should slow things down, make sure nothing bad came of this, but when Cindy’s hands untucked the towel and pulled it off of her just before the lock opened and they were finally inside, Lindsay decided she refused to be afraid of what was happening between them.

This was what they deserved.

They tripped their way to the bathroom like hormone-stricken teenagers, and Cindy turned on the shower and pulled her in. There was no rinsing of chlorine from their suits. As their tops and bottoms hit the floor of the tub, Cindy just kicked them aside.

Lindsay felt the cool tile against her back as she was pushed up against the wall, and allowed herself to get lost in the sensations of Cindy’s hands aimlessly roaming over her body, of Cindy’s mouth sucking hard on the vein in her neck. Several teasing minutes later, she cried her disapproval when Cindy pulled away just long enough to turn off the water. Then she was being pulled out, barely toweled off and led out of the bathroom to the nearby bed.

Pushed back into the mess of unmade covers, Lindsay could only watch impatiently as Cindy crawled up over her, kissing her forcefully.

“Lindsay…”

At the quiet call, Lindsay forced her eyes open again to look up into Cindy’s.

“We’re going to be okay,” Cindy promised.

Lindsay could manage only a mute, insincere nod. While she desperately wanted to believe it, the words offered little more than a reminder that Cindy had entertained the notion that they wouldn’t be. Mercifully, Cindy left her little opportunity to contemplate before making a path downward, consuming liberally on the way.

As Cindy came to rest between her legs, and Cindy’s lips and tongue danced over her, Lindsay squeezed her eyes closed, hands fisting in the blanket beneath her.

There was nothing else. There was no horrific past. There were no future worries. There was just now. There was just this current moment. Just the two of them. Just this indescribable feeling. Just the love. This love that was so pure and so unexpected, yet so destined to be for them.

Then there was light exploding behind her eyelids and iced ecstasy bringing uncontainable shivers to the far reaches of every part of her body, and Lindsay knew that there had never been anything like this for her before and that there would never be anything else like it.

Cindy was it for her. Forever.

Then Cindy was back with her, and she was burying her hands in thick red hair, holding her in place while she tried to pour every bit of that emotion into their kiss.

Carefully, she flipped Cindy onto her back, settling on top of her, delighting in the feel of their bodies together, and pulled away, staring down into receptive eyes. She wanted to tell Cindy all of it, but not now. Now, she desperately needed.

“I want to do that to you,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out past the tremendous craving. “Is that okay?”

“Depends how well you do it,” Cindy teased.

Lindsay smiled at the response, but it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t suffice. She had to be sure. And, as usual, Cindy seemed to sense her desperate need for real reassurance.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her hand trailing over Lindsay’s cheek, voice turning to a low rasp. “I want you to.”

It wasn’t just reassuring. It was exactly what Lindsay wanted to hear.

All the way down Cindy’s acquiescent body, it was a system of checks and balances. Every few seconds her eyes were drawn up to Cindy’s face just to make sure they were still on the same page.

Cindy’s legs shamelessly opened for her, tacitly permitting, and Lindsay trailed her lips over the pale skin of Cindy’s thighs as she settled between them. When she checked in, Cindy was staring down at her, her cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, a look of such undisguised need on her face, Lindsay had no choice but to give into it.

Fulfilling the deep hunger of her own, she moved inward, mouth opening slowly over intimate terrain, tongue darting out to taste.

Nothing in her life had ever been as significant as the implicit trust in Cindy’s quiet sigh, the way that she went suddenly calm beneath her, giving herself over so completely it was almost sacrificial, as if she was offering herself over to a better future story than the one they had been granted thus far.

Knowing that Cindy wanted to get through this, to heal, to make sure that they could bear this and be together was an amazingly powerful feeling. She was what Cindy needed. If she hadn’t felt it, intuitively, the sounds that Cindy was making, the small movements of her body, would have proven to Lindsay that she was at least what Cindy needed right now.

Cindy wanted her, and, as she’d just recently been reminded, it didn’t matter why. It was the simple truth, and Lindsay was just grateful that she did.

As if in confirmation, it was her name on Cindy’s lips moments later when she arrived at the zenith, and when Cindy reached out for something to hold onto as she was coming back down, it was for her that Cindy was reaching.

Lindsay gladly crawled up to meet her, unable to tell which one of them was trembling more. Her lips met Cindy’s, swallowing the shuddering breaths like a curative elixir. Pulling back to give Cindy room to breath, she could go only as far as resting her head against Cindy’s, staring down into expressive eyes.

“We’re going to be okay,” Cindy whispered up at her.

Her voice was stronger, laden with conviction, and for the first time in quite some time, Lindsay believed.