CM/WMC Crossover - The Unexpected, 3/?
Title: The Unexpected, 3/?
Fandom: WMC/CM Crossover
Pairing: Emily/Cindy; Cindy/Lindsay and Emily/JJ implied, if you squint really hard.
Rating: Probably PG/PG-13 for right now. There will definitely be some NC-17 at some point, but I’ll forewarn you.
Disclaimer: Don’t own a damn thing except what’s in my head! If I did, I wouldn’t have to write these fics to fill in the blanks.
Warnings: This is un-beta’d. All mistakes are mine.
AN: All blame is on those who keep poking me.
AN2: Apologies for the delay in getting this out. RL is kicking my ass and my muse seems to have run off with some other writer's muses. Combined, it just makes for a bad situation. I've been trying to say one written chapter on this story, but I feel so bad for not getting this out there that I had to post it without a follow-up finished right away. I will do it though...I promise.
CHAPTER 3
Cindy sat in the hard wooden chair, trying to make herself relax a little. While it may not have been an interrogation room, the effect was still the same, an effect only intensified by the intimidating presence of real honest-to-god FBI agents moving to sit down across from her.
“So, Ms. Thomas,” Hotch started, “tell us everything that’s happened in the last 24-48 hours.”
“Everything?” Cindy wasn’t too keen on telling them about her date Friday night and mentally tried to count back 48 hours to be sure she was in the clear.
Emily noted Cindy’s discomfort, “Just start with when you went to get your mail Saturday morning.”
Cindy breathed an obvious sigh of relief and began recounting every moment between then and now for what felt like the 100th time. Thirty minutes later, Cindy finally paused to take a breath.
Silence filled the room, except for a random scribble by Emily on the tenth page of her notepad. Tom and Lindsay had tired of pacing the room and now stood in opposite corners like prize fighters. Emily tapped her pen and braved the question that had been in the back of her mind.
“Ms. Thomas, have you had any altercations or strange incidents happen with anyone else lately?” Cindy furrowed her brow, thinking back to all of her recent interactions. There was another reporter at The Register that hated Cindy with a passion, mainly because Cindy stole a story out from under her while she was busy screwing her boyfriend’s brother. If you snooze, you lose. That was Cindy’s philosophy. Lately though, both had avoided each other at work and hadn’t spoken in almost a month.
She slowly shook her head, “No, not that I can think of.”
“It’s very important you try to remember. Is there anyone that’s crossed your path recently that seemed odd or out of place? Anyone different hanging around your neighborhood?” Hotch worked to jog the memories loose from Cindy’s head.
“I’m sorry. I’m usually really observant. It comes with being a reporter, but I haven’t noticed anything.”
“Have you had anyone new move in to your apartment complex?”
“Well, there was this 72 year old guy with a cane, but I don’t see him as the angry, violent, threatening type.”
Everyone was quiet as they thought up new angles. Emily spoke first, “Ms. Thomas, have you recently broken up with anyone?”
Lindsay snapped her fingers, “That Jaime kid! I knew he was trouble!”
“I never dated him, Linz,” Cindy rubbed the spot between her eyes, tiring of trying to get Lindsay to accept this small fact.
“But he was kind of weird.”
“And that means I would date him?” Lindsay was taken back by the tinge of anger in Cindy’s voice.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Then what did you mean?”
Tom jumped in before he had to roll out his secret stash of jello and wrestling oils, “Ladies, can we stick to the topic, please?”
Emily looked on at the two women, intrigued but slightly unnerved. She wanted to know more, but now wasn’t the time.
“Are you seeing anyone right now, Ms. Thomas?”
Cindy slumped back into her chair, the fight completely gone from her and a headache starting to thump in the back of her brain. The look of weariness in the agent’s eyes, softened her face into a smile, “My name’s Cindy. Please, you make me think my mother’s in the room every time you say ‘Ms. Thomas’. And the answer to your question is no. No one serious right now. Though I have been on some dates.”
“Would you mind providing the names of the guys you’ve recently dated?” Hotch asked.
“Ummm,” Cindy’s heart started racing, trying to think fast how to fudge this.
“Is there a problem?” Hotch pushed further, and Emily closed her eyes, having a feeling of what was coming.
“Um, it’s just, um,” Cindy uncharacteristically stumbled over her words. It was like someone has shoved a giant dirty gym sock in her mouth, making it impossible for her to function.
“It’s okay, Cindy,” Emily spoke softly to her, making frightened brown eyes look up at her. Cindy took a deep breath, noticing her shoulders were tightly scrunched up, and deliberately relaxed the muscles.
“It’s just that the names I could give you aren’t of guys.”
“What?” Lindsay stopped her pacing and stared at the top of the red head that refused to look up at her. Instead Cindy looked at the only place that felt safe at the moment…Emily.
Emily kept her eye contact with Cindy but spoke to Lindsay, “We think that whoever is committing these crimes is targeting members of the gay community, particularly lesbians.”
Lindsay was stumped for a moment as she let the information process, “So, does that mean? Cindy?”
Cindy slowly cut her sad eyes over to Lindsay, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
This wasn’t how she wanted Lindsay to find out. A single tear rolled down Cindy’s face as she watched everything she’d dreamed of and hoped for shatter before her eyes at the look of shock and disbelief on Lindsay’s tired face, the look breaking her more than words ever could.
Without another word, Lindsay quietly walked out and shut the door.