Inamorata (4/36) – WMC fic

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

Club meetings had become a possibility, but they hadn’t returned to the hours daily they used to spend together by any means.

Lindsay was considerably less uneasy about seeing Jill and Claire each day at work. They often ran into each other, speaking in the prescribed tones of co-workers rather than the manner of friends, but at least she saw them. Cindy, not so much, because it was harder to make that look unplanned.

They had only seen each other one time since their impromptu rendezvous, for another brief club gathering in Claire’s office, where all attendees were already present when she arrived, which meant no stolen moments and no stolen kisses, which had made Lindsay surprisingly, and, according to Jacobi, noticeably, cranky for the rest of the day.

And that was five days ago.

So when she, completely unexpectedly, stepped out into the hall to find Cindy walking down it alone toward her one afternoon, it wasn’t only a pleasant surprise, it was impossible to deny herself. Cindy’s eyes kept meeting her own and then skittering away again, as to not be too obvious, and Lindsay felt her own pulse quickening with every step they took toward each other.

It wasn’t Lindsay’s fault that she and Cindy just happened to pass right in front of the evidence room to which Lindsay just happened to have a key. And it really wasn’t her fault that Cindy purposely brushed her hand as she started by.

Lindsay glanced back down the hall behind her, making sure it was clear, then grabbed Cindy’s wrist. With her other hand, she fumbled for the key, and, within twenty seconds, they were inside the evidence room and she was reaching out blindly for the light switch that she knew was somewhere nearby. But when Cindy’s hands moved up under her shirt, Lindsay abandoned all attempts at alleviating the darkness and clung to Cindy’s shoulders instead.

“Try not to touch anything,” Lindsay breathed against Cindy’s lips.

Cindy’s hands instantly left her body.

“I mean, besides me,” Lindsay groaned and heard Cindy’s chuckle in the darkness.

She didn’t have time to be annoyed, because Cindy’s hands instantly returned to their place beneath her shirt, slowly inching upward.

“What if someone comes in here?” Cindy had the sound mind to ask.

“Oh well,” Lindsay responded, finding a sound mind decidedly out of place at the moment.

She’d been behaving for long enough. Right now, she just wanted to get her hands on Cindy, and she wanted Cindy’s hands to continue their unerring explorations of her. It really didn’t matter in the least if it was happening in the pitch black evidence room that someone could walk into at any moment.

She found the exposed skin on Cindy’s chest and trailed her fingertips down it until she came to the top button of Cindy’s shirt. She hastily undid the button, her fingers trailing inside. Then, she came to Cindy’s vest and was incredibly irritated that there were now two sets of buttons to contend with.

“You wear too many damn clothes,” Lindsay grumbled, getting the first of Cindy’s vest buttons open.

“Yeah. Well, you wear too much hardware,” Cindy responded.

Lindsay had just prevailed over another button on Cindy’s shirt when she felt the gun she’d been keeping tucked securely in the back of her waistband at all times sliding out. She reached back quickly, stopping its progress.

“No,” she uttered, feeling the cold steel against the skin of her back. “I need that.”

The silence and stillness seemed suspended. It took Cindy a long time to reply to the statement. Before she did, Cindy’s hand abandoned the gun and somehow found her chin in the darkness, sliding up it to splay across her jaw.

“Not right now,” Cindy whispered fervently. “Not with me.”

Lindsay couldn’t see her at all, but she could feel Cindy’s nearness. She only had to lean forward slightly to rest her head against Cindy’s.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling very much like she’d just spoiled a perfect moment.

“Don’t be sorry,” Cindy responded. “Once in a while, I just want you to feel safe. I wish that I could give you that.”

The last part came slowly and much more quietly.

Lindsay slid her gun back into its place and moved her hands to Cindy’s lower back, pulling her more tightly against her. Ducking her head, she covered Cindy’s lips with her own, savoring, as usual, Cindy’s reactions to her, the way that she kissed back, the soft sighs that she emitted, her palpable need for more. She was no way near done kissing Cindy when she pulled away, but she felt that it was more important to say the things she wanted to say to her.

“You have,” Lindsay whispered. “Honestly. That particular feeling is just fleeting right now. You make me feel a lot of other things though.”

“Such as?” Cindy asked.

Lindsay smiled, because she knew that Cindy couldn’t see it. Otherwise, she never would have let on to the fact that she found Cindy’s need for specifics endearing instead of exasperating.

“Well, there are several physical things I can think of right off the top of my head,” Lindsay said first, trying for levity, but it seemed to take her right back to the truth. “But also amazement… and hope.”

“Amazement?” Cindy repeated. “I’m that good huh?”

The answer was a most definite yes, but Lindsay decided an honest sigh and a long kiss said that more effectively than a simple word.

“When this is all over,” she said as she pulled back, “we’re still going to be here, and this is still going to be here, and I look forward to that.”

It felt serene, candidly revealing her emotions in the darkness. Like a confessional.

“Will we?” Cindy asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Would this have happened if not for the threat?” Cindy haltingly queried. “Would we even be doing this?”

Lindsay was struck by the question, not because she hadn’t considered it, but because Cindy still seemed truly uncertain about the answer. She, on the other hand, had come to the absolute realization a while ago.

“Eventually. You don’t really think we could have just kept playing as if there was nothing going on between us forever, do you?”

Cindy was silent, but Lindsay somehow knew that she was smiling.

“You know, I don’t want it to be like this, right?” Lindsay continued, and went on when Cindy didn’t respond. “It’s safer if no one knows, but I don’t like hiding in the evidence room with you.”

“No?” came the humored reply.

“I mean, I like hiding in the evidence room with you,” Lindsay revised. “But I’d like to be able to, you know, not hide in the evidence room with you too.”

“Really?” Cindy asked softly.

“Really,” Lindsay asserted.

How could Cindy not know that?

“That’s good, cause you do still owe me,” Cindy teased.

“Yeah, I do,” Lindsay smiled.

Paying her debt in full was something else Lindsay was looking forward to.

“If I tell you something, do you swear you won’t get mad at me?” Cindy whispered, sounding considerably more timid.

“I’m not going to get mad,” Lindsay assured her.

“I love you.”

The words barely had a chance to sink in before Cindy was kissing her again. Lindsay gave in to it fully, Cindy’s tangible devotion. There’d really been no need for her to say the words. Lindsay could feel it every time Cindy kissed her. She was so shameless in her feelings.

And Lindsay knew exactly how to respond. Because if there was one thing that this whole experience had given her, it was clarity, and she wasn’t going to live, or die, with regret. But Lindsay didn’t get her chance to say anything. The sound of someone sliding the key into the lock was unmistakable and Cindy pulled away from her.

When the lights came on, an older officer that Lindsay knew well enough to know that he wouldn’t tell anyone this story because he probably didn’t believe his eyes, was staring in at them from the doorway. Lindsay glanced at Cindy, who was managing to look surprisingly cool and collected, despite her disheveled appearance, complete with a half-unbuttoned vest and shirt that could have, conceivably, been her normal style of dress if she was the office slut. It was a surprisingly good look for her.

“Whoa, what just happened?” Cindy said, glancing around. “Lights,” she pointed toward the ceiling and laughed. “That’ll help. And look, there it is. Just what you were looking for.”

Cindy motioned to a box on a shelf, and Lindsay took the hint.

“Yeah, there it is. Right in front of us. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” Cindy said, moving toward the door, without taking her eyes off of Lindsay. “I’m all about offering my services.”

That remark was a direct hit to Lindsay’s already vulnerable restraint. She wanted to rush over, pull Cindy back in, shove Officer Stone out into the hallway, and barricade the door. If there was any other reason for this sneaking around than Cindy’s safety, she would have done just that, but it seemed a little reckless. Their secret didn’t need to get out. Not now. So, she held her ground, as painful as it was, and regretfully watched Cindy step out of the room, hoping that Cindy would stop and button her clothes, because no one else in the building deserved that show.

Lindsay grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on from the box on the shelf, to keep up the charade, and walked toward the door.

“Lights,” she said, patting the chest of poor, confused Officer Stone. “Genius.”

She moved past him quickly, hoping for one last glimpse, even if it was only of her walking away, but Cindy was already gone.