Crazy for this Girl [Part 1/1]
FANDOM: Women’s Murder Club
PAIRING: Lindsay/ Cindy
RATING: G-fluff fest
DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Passion & Perfection. All others with the permission of the author, only.
A/N: The song of the moment is “Crazy for this Girl,” by Evan and Jaron.
Crazy For This Girl
The cool autumn wind blew through the open passenger window of Lindsay Boxer’s Jeep, bringing with it the slightly pungent odor of San Fransisco Bay. In spite of the vortex like sound of the wind, Cindy was still talking, rambling on about a story she’d been working on this past week. It had been a calm week-no murders, and they were on their way to an informal “club meeting” at Papa Joe’s. Nothing more important to discuss than Jill’s latest date and Lindsay’s lack of a love life.
Lindsay caught herself sneaking glances at Cindy out of the corner of her eye as they drove. Cindy had her hand out the window, letting the wind carry it up and down like an airplane wing by changing the shape of her hand-much the way a child would play. There was an innocence in her expression and manner that Lindsay had not known she craved until a few weeks prior. She had not realized what she had been missing until this girl bounced into her life, filling places inside of her she never knew were empty. Forcing her eyes away, Lindsay dragged her attention back to the road and getting them safely to their destination.
She rolls the window down
And she talks over the sound
Of the cars that pass us by
And I don’t know why
But she’s changed my mind.
When they were about 5 minutes away from the diner, Lindsay felt Cindy’s eyes on her. She glanced over to find the red head smiling at her, her head tilted halfway to the side and her eyes sparkling. Another glance to the traffic in front of them, and then Lindsay looked back again. “What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.
“Nothing,” Cindy said, settling herself with her back against the passenger side door, “Just wondering what you’re thinking right now.”
Lindsay felt her hands grip the steering wheel tighter and hoped her white knuckles wouldn’t show. “Nothing much,” she murmured, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears.
She could see the smile that appeared on Cindy’s face out of the corner of her eye-it was nearly blinding in its brightness. “Uh huh,” Cindy said, before turning her attention back to the open window.
Would you look at her she looks at me
She’s got me thinking about her constantly
But she don’t know how I feel
The way she carries on without a doubt
I wonder if she’s figured out
I’m crazy for this girl
Lindsay found herself incredibly distracted all through dinner. Claire had new photos of the boys from school, and Jill was dating some Italian-American guy she met at a bar, but Lindsay’s mind could not focus on any of these things. All she could feel was Cindy’s warm thigh next to her in the booth, pressed against hers-both inviting and distracting all at once. All she could smell was the subtle scent of Cindy’s perfume, which seemed to hang over her head like a cloud. She found herself fixated on every word that the reporter spoke, and she had the funny feeling that Cindy not only knew of the state she was in-but was reveling in it.
She was the one to hold me
The night the sky fell down
And what was I thinking when
The world didn’t end
Why didn’t I know what I know now
After dinner that night, Lindsay was driving Cindy home when she felt compelled to say something very un-Lindsay like, something she had been wrestling with for almost a month. “Thank you,” she muttered, as they sat stopped at a red light.
“For what?” Cindy asked, with a rustle that said she was turning away from her window to look at Lindsay, no doubt a curious look on her face.
Lindsay grimaced, pressed her foot on the gas as the light changed to green. “I… uh… never did get a chance to thank you. For staying with me the night that… that my dad died. You were there for me when I needed someone, and… well, thank you.”
Cindy was silent for a long moment. “You don’t have to thank me,” she finally said, her voice barely discernible over the sounds of the open window, “I was happy I could help-I was happy you let me help.”
Lindsay looked over at her passenger then, to find Cindy’s brown eyes locked to hers. She offered a rare, heartfelt smile, which the reporter returned. “I’m glad you did.”
Would you look at her she looks at me
She’s got me thinking about her constantly
But she don’t know how I feel
The way she carries on without a doubt
I wonder if she’s figured out
I’m crazy for this girl
Moments later, they had pulled up in front of Cindy’s apartment building. Usually Cindy would hop out right away with a cheery wave and a thank you, but tonight they both sat very still after Lindsay turned the car off. Searching for something to say, anything to break the silence that had settled over them like a heavy blanket, Lindsay opened her door and said “C’mon, I’ll walk you up.”
If Cindy thought this was an unusual request, she didn’t say so, climbing calmly from the passenger seat and shutting the door with a thump. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, Lindsay walked next to but slightly behind Cindy until they reached the apartment entrance. Cindy stepped up onto the top step but didn’t walk through the door, turning to face Lindsay instead with a slightly sheepish smile and a shrug. “Lindz,” she said, “Is there something you want to say to me? Did I do something wrong?”
Lindsay stared at her friends perfectly angelic face, the slight fear written there that spoke volumes of a guilty conscience and an expected reaction from the Inspector for some slight mistake of the day. That was what Cindy was expecting, and Lindsay realized with a start that Cindy couldn’t be further from the truth this time.
Right now, face to face, all my fears pushed aside
Right now I’m ready to spend the rest of my life
With you.
“Lindz?” Cindy asked again, fidgeting nervously.
Lindsay blinked and then smiled, and watched as the nervous look grew. She took one step towards Cindy, and then another, her smile widening as Cindy took a hasty step back only to end up with her back against the glass doors of her apartment building. Lindsay looked down at Cindy, let her eyes search Cindy’s features-brown, expressive eyes, full lips, pale skin with a light coating of freckles-and then she brought her gaze back up to Cindy’s eyes. “There’s nothing I want to say,” Lindsay said softly, raising one hand to brush some hair away from Cindy’s face, “But there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”
And with that, she bent her head, capturing Cindy’s lips under hers. After a moments pause, she felt the reporter arch up into her with no resistance, and she let her hands tangle in the thick red hair as she kissed Cindy with all her might, trying to explain without words how she had felt since that one awful night when everything had crumbled around her. Cindy had been there for her, and something between them had changed forever. Standing in the cool autumn night, Lindsay did her best to make sure Cindy would understand that this change was real, permanent, and that she, Lindsay, wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
They broke apart minutes later, both breathing heavily, and heavily reliant on the doors to hold them upright. Lindsay took a small step back from Cindy, leaving one hand resting on the red heads waist. She needed to know if she had overstepped a boundary with the kiss and watched with growing trepidation as Cindy’s eyes slowly fluttered open. The smile that followed was pure radiance, and Lindsay couldn’t help but smile back, and then laugh lightly. This could be the start of something wonderful, she found herself thinking. Cindy unlocked the apartment door and they walked up to her apartment together.
Would you look at her she looks at me
She’s got me thinking about her constantly
But she don’t know how I feel
The way she carries on without a doubt
I wonder if she’s figured out
I’m crazy for this girl.