Dilemma Pt. Quatre - Whose dilemma was it anyway?
Title: Dilemma Part Quatre - whose dilemma was it anyway?
Author: sportysmurf
Fandom: Women’s Murder Club
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Rating: PG
Archive: Just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine they’re James Patterson’s and I’m only playing with them.
Summary: We’re just a tad nervous.
A/N: Continuation of a plot bunny influenced by something noted by demeter94 is on a roll, I think.
Beta: emthefrootloop , as ever, my hero! And btw - issuer of the poke that got me to finish this update!
Tiny edit - I got the resto details wrong - now Japanese!
Dilemma the Drabble, Pt 2, Pt 3
Cindy spent a restless evening trying to figure out what equated to “nice” in Boxer-ese. She ran through the entire sequence of events at incredibly slow speed, trying to tease just one more nuance out of every single action. Had she even said ‘yes’ to going on this date? And just what does one wear to look nice for the person you have adored since you met? How nice is too nice, but not over-the-top?
She decided to put that thought aside for the moment and determine the best possible moment to present her own gift. She’d pared down the appropriate moments to three: one, when Lindsay arrived to pick her up for their date; two, upon conclusion of dinner; and three, at the end of the night - whenever that might be. All were fraught with dangerous consequences.
What if Lindsay thought the gift was simply reciprocation? What if Lindsay cancelled or excused herself for some reason? And, of course, there was the possibility that Lindsay might not like her gift at all. She couldn’t figure out what outcome would be worse.
Cindy had picked out the gift with great care some weeks before. She’d easily determined that Lindsay was not one for frilly or scented gifts, nor was she likely to sit still with a good book (sometimes she wondered if the woman ever read anything but crime reports!). But, despite her inspector’s love of the obvious and practical, the desire to give something meaningful won out over simple utility.
With this in mind, Cindy had used her many skills to ferret out the perfect present. She’d actually had it in her hands when Lindsay had distracted her with the card. And the invitation to dinner. Especially the invitation to dinner. Mulling over the timing in her mind, she decided to present the gift at the end of the night. No matter what happened, even if Lindsay came up with some reason to bail, there would be an ending point and she would use that moment to offer her gift.
Sighing happily at having made a decision, the reporter finally set her head to pillow and attempted to sleep. Tomorrow she would research the possibilities for her dinner date. She would make a decision on what to wear based on some old-fashioned snooping.
Not far away, a certain brunette police inspector was also preparing for bed. Lindsay stared wildly up at the ceiling in her bedroom and tried to calm her racing heart. ‘Sugar-plums, my ass!’ she thought viciously. ‘Jill has the location under control, I’ve already held out my hand to Cindy - I need to just sleep!’ Turning over, she flipped off the light and sighed. ‘Maybe if I count sheep…’
Cindy woke bright and early, per usual, and prepared for a day of investigating her favourite topic. She started with all the usual suspects.
“Warren? Hi. I was wondering if you might know what Lindsay is up to tonight? I mean, I’m just thinking that - well, no, I d-didn’t think you’d be a pushover! I just thought she might have… Ok. No, no, I understand.” One down and no luck.
“Tom, hey - I - no, its not about. Right. You’ve gotta go.” Where have I heard that before?
“Jill, its - yeah, I know - but… Oh, come on! Just one hint? How the heck am I supposed to get this right if - fine.”
C’mon Thomas - what are you good at? The redhead pursed her lips and popped a bright smile. Face to face, no one could beat her charm. With a determined look on her face, she headed to the Hall of Justice.
She decided to give the bullpen one more try. “Hey Warren - wait, don’t - oh, come on!”
“Are you kidding? I’m not ruining Boxer’s surprise,” said the gruff detective.
Cindy pouted.
“And don’t try that on me. I’m too old for that kinda thing.”
Not to be deterred, Cindy piped back “It was worth a try, but I have a backup plan…”
“Don’t try Tom - he’s been told. Several times, and he’s made tracks for the streets.”
Cindy sighed and turned away. Tucking her head down, she slowly trudged back down the stairs. Pausing for one more sad look at Jacobi, she headed toward the ADA’s office. And reached it just in time to see the back of her blonde friend disappear down the hall. Doubling back to the elevators, she pushed the buttons repeatedly.
“You know that doesn’t affect the speed of the elevator, right?”
“Er, yeah. Hi Denise.” The reporter tried to avoid looking up at the ever so slowly changing floor indicators. She thought about asking the intimidating little Asian woman, but looking at her expression, decided against it.
“You could always take the stairs,” the DA offered.
“No, thanks - I’ll wait,” Cindy impatiently bounced from foot to foot and almost leapt into the car as the doors opened. She punched the button for the basement and waved to Denise as the doors shut.
Trotting down the hallway, she could see her quarries talking behind the glass doors of the morgue. Flinging open the door, she marched up and before she could even open her mouth to speak, she was silenced by the hand. Said hand, of course, belonging to the owner of the morgue.
“Don’t even think about it. We,” and Claire stared directly at the blonde covering her eyes in the corner, ”are not going to ruin Lindsay’s surprise.” Emphasized by the blood dripping from her hand, which incidentally still held some internal body part.
“Please, Claire?” Cindy tried her very best pout. She turned to Jill imploringly. “Jill?”
“Why don’t you just accept that it’s going to be a surprise? You’ve waited this long, a few more hours can’t hurt, right?” the blonde asked over her shoulder.
“I just want to be prepared. I want everything to go right. If this is my one chance, I want to give it everything -.”
“Easy there, Lois. You have to understand, without giving anything away - Lindsay is as invested in this as you are. It took a lot for her to ask you. You’ll just have to trust her. And us.”
Cindy plumped herself down on a stool and allowed a de-gloved Claire to give her a hug. She tried valiantly not to sniffle.
“Honey, Jill is right. You have to trust Lindsay. It’s not in her nature to play tricks.”
“In fact, I’m not sure she knows what they are!” Jill chipped in.
“I know, but - this is really important and I don’t want to screw it up,” moaned the redhead.
“Do you know who you sound like?” chorused her friends.
“Go home, Cindy. Get ready and have a nice night. See where it takes you - you might like it!”
“Right,” grumbled the reporter as she exited the morgue followed by a cheery “And tell us all about it tomorrow!”
As nervous as the redhead was, it didn’t compare in the least to the agitation displayed by her favourite police inspector. Lindsay Boxer was pacing in her living room, ticking off her mental to-do list. She paused, ran her hands through her hair and dropped onto her couch.
“I have it all ready, Martha,” she said to the dog cringing behind the coffee table. “Jill’s made the reservations and everyone, including Tom, has promised not to spoil my surprise,” she smirked as she remembered Tom’s incredulous look when she’d told him who her date was with. “So why can’t I just relax?”
Jumping up, she went over to the door and grabbed Martha’s leash. “C’mon Martha, we - well, I, need to get out of the house.” Martha gave her owner a quizzical look and settled down lower to the floor. “Oh, come on. You always want to go out!” Giving in to her dog’s significant lack of interest, Lindsay hung the leash back on its hook and sighed.
I’m not cut out for this sort of thing, she thought. What if Cindy doesn’t like Japanese food? What if I just mistook the look on her face? What if it was just the stunned surprise of ‘Oh my god, you’re insane?’ What if she just runs away? I don’t think I could stand it if she wasn’t in my life. What if I just ruined a perfectly good friendship by being selfish?
Changing into tights and a hoodie, she decided to go for a run on her own. A very long run.