81/44 From Now On
A/N: The promise made long ago is still true.
From Now On
By Demeter
"How are you feeling?" Cindy asks, and Lindsay almost laughs at that, because it's such a Cindy question to ask. She thinks it must be pretty obvious in the way she could finally let somebody sneak past her solidly build barriers, meant for survival. She hasn't felt this alive in a long time.
Happy, she realizes. I'd almost forgotten how that feels.
Also, Lindsay is sure it's obvious in the way she can't keep her hands still even now, has to keep tracing every curve of Cindy's body, feel the warmth of her skin, revel in the sheer pleasure of the closeness. "Okay," she says, hardly able to stifle the smile, but Cindy takes the bait anyway.
"Just okay?" She doesn't seem as much offended as worried. Lindsay doesn't have the heart to take it any further, so she pulls Cindy into her arms again and kisses her breathless once more. "This is how I feel," she whispers against her neck, finger tracing the shiver down Cindy's spine. "Happy now?"
Almost five years, since one of the nights at Papa Joe's with the girls ended in a way she would have never expected. Lindsay shivers, the number an uncanny reminder of the Dollhouse, the supposed length of a contract for an active. Becoming more awake, she realizes she is cold; the other side of the bed is empty, and the scent of coffee is tempting her out of bed.
To her surprise, the breakfast table is set. There are fresh flowers in a vase, champagne flutes.
Cindy turns from where she is standing at the coffeemaker, smiling. "Good morning."
It's moments like this that Lindsay feels torn, between the gratitude that things didn't turn out worse, and the impulse to make someone pay for all that Cindy had to go through. They share a long lazy kiss before she asks, "What's the occasion?"
"I'm still mad at you," Cindy confesses, though her voice sounds even.
"Oh. About Sam--"
"No, not about Sammi. Okay, maybe a little about Sammi, and the fact you tried to sell to me that Madsen was one of the easiest arrests in history."
Lindsay doesn't know what to say to that. They had that conversation before; she screwed up again. What else is there?
"I have to know," Cindy continues, "That you can let me be there for you once in a while. Even when it's about things I don't like to hear."
"I'm... sorry." She truly is, regret washing over her like a wave. There's no doubt the same dilemma will come up another time. "But why are we celebrating this?"
"I talked to Claire... and Tom." Cindy takes a deep breath. "But I didn't need them to tell me how bad it was. I could feel it. I can feel it now. So, yes, I know I am damn lucky."
"I am," Lindsay says, for once allowing herself to speak it out. "And I know I've been pressuring you lately, but it's your decision. I didn't mean to--"
"No," Cindy says softly. "It's not just mine. We'll make it together."
She'd spent the whole workday worrying and obsessing. They hadn't made any promises. So why should she expect to come anything more out of this than--
No call. No text message. Why had she thought... and besides, if a good time together was all that had been on Cindy's mind, it had sure been worth it.
When she left the building though, Cindy was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs of the Hall.
'Happy' actually didn't take a long time to get used to.
From Now On
By Demeter
"How are you feeling?" Cindy asks, and Lindsay almost laughs at that, because it's such a Cindy question to ask. She thinks it must be pretty obvious in the way she could finally let somebody sneak past her solidly build barriers, meant for survival. She hasn't felt this alive in a long time.
Happy, she realizes. I'd almost forgotten how that feels.
Also, Lindsay is sure it's obvious in the way she can't keep her hands still even now, has to keep tracing every curve of Cindy's body, feel the warmth of her skin, revel in the sheer pleasure of the closeness. "Okay," she says, hardly able to stifle the smile, but Cindy takes the bait anyway.
"Just okay?" She doesn't seem as much offended as worried. Lindsay doesn't have the heart to take it any further, so she pulls Cindy into her arms again and kisses her breathless once more. "This is how I feel," she whispers against her neck, finger tracing the shiver down Cindy's spine. "Happy now?"
Almost five years, since one of the nights at Papa Joe's with the girls ended in a way she would have never expected. Lindsay shivers, the number an uncanny reminder of the Dollhouse, the supposed length of a contract for an active. Becoming more awake, she realizes she is cold; the other side of the bed is empty, and the scent of coffee is tempting her out of bed.
To her surprise, the breakfast table is set. There are fresh flowers in a vase, champagne flutes.
Cindy turns from where she is standing at the coffeemaker, smiling. "Good morning."
It's moments like this that Lindsay feels torn, between the gratitude that things didn't turn out worse, and the impulse to make someone pay for all that Cindy had to go through. They share a long lazy kiss before she asks, "What's the occasion?"
"I'm still mad at you," Cindy confesses, though her voice sounds even.
"Oh. About Sam--"
"No, not about Sammi. Okay, maybe a little about Sammi, and the fact you tried to sell to me that Madsen was one of the easiest arrests in history."
Lindsay doesn't know what to say to that. They had that conversation before; she screwed up again. What else is there?
"I have to know," Cindy continues, "That you can let me be there for you once in a while. Even when it's about things I don't like to hear."
"I'm... sorry." She truly is, regret washing over her like a wave. There's no doubt the same dilemma will come up another time. "But why are we celebrating this?"
"I talked to Claire... and Tom." Cindy takes a deep breath. "But I didn't need them to tell me how bad it was. I could feel it. I can feel it now. So, yes, I know I am damn lucky."
"I am," Lindsay says, for once allowing herself to speak it out. "And I know I've been pressuring you lately, but it's your decision. I didn't mean to--"
"No," Cindy says softly. "It's not just mine. We'll make it together."
She'd spent the whole workday worrying and obsessing. They hadn't made any promises. So why should she expect to come anything more out of this than--
No call. No text message. Why had she thought... and besides, if a good time together was all that had been on Cindy's mind, it had sure been worth it.
When she left the building though, Cindy was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs of the Hall.
'Happy' actually didn't take a long time to get used to.