For WMC Day! A bit late...
Title: Frustration by Sweater
Author: sportysmurf
Fandom: Women’s Murder Club
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Rating: PG
Word Count: Drabble
Archive: Just let me know…
Disclaimer: Not mine. James Patterson’s. Only for fun and entertainment (I hope)
Spoilers: None
Summary: Cindy could use a hand
A/N: In support of WMC Day! A good idea from demeter94
A/N2: Unbeta-ed and late due to RL :(
'Geez, what is taking the woman so long?!'
Not a happy shopper on the best of days, Lindsay Boxer paced outside the fitting rooms with all the grace and patience of a thwarted panther. All she would need was a flickering tail to complete the picture. One look at the disgruntled inspector was enough to send any salesperson scuttling off in another direction.
"Cindy!" Receiving no reply, she tried again. "Cindy, come on. How hard can it be to try on a couple of sweaters and a pair of jeans?" growled the brunette, mentally counting the number of things she could possibly be doing aside from standing outside a Bloomy's fitting room.
"Mmmph!" and "Scqueerr!" came from inside.
"What's that? Speak up, I can't understand a word you're saying!"
"EEEeee-weater-rrk!"
The door to the fitting room swung open to reveal the flailing arms and rather cute abdominal area of the young reporter.
"Erm, could you - I mean, do you need some help?" asked a puzzled inspector.
Another frustrated "reeeekrrr" shrilled from within the sweater-monster, accompanied by further flailing.
Lindsay grabbed the flailing arms before they could cause any damage to herself or their owner and backed Cindy into the fitting room before closing the door. No need to advertise attributes that were meant for her eyes only.
"Now relax and breathe. Raise your arms up above your head." Lindsay held back a grin as she thought of how yoga-like her instructions sounded. 'Better than the usual reason I'm asking someone to raise their hands over their head,' she mused. "How did you manage to get like this anyway?"
Greeted with additional flailing and unintelligible squeals that might possibly be curses, Lindsay tried again. " Straighten your arms a bit more..." She managed to gently ease the sweater up and over Cindy's breasts and paused a moment to admire the view.
"Ow!" A sharp kick to her shin and the snippiness of the accompanying noises from within the sweater advised her to get on with the process.
Struggling to control her laughter, the brunette finally freed a thoroughly disheveled and steaming redhead from the sweater.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Cindy frowned at her lover. "You're laughing at me!" she pouted accusingly.
"Well..."
"Don't even try to deny it! You're laughing and you were ogling me!" charged the miffed reporter.
Busted on the ogling, Lindsay just smiled and flashed her dimples at the grumpy young woman. "Ok, well I guess that sweater is out - what about the other one?"
"It was - stop staring! It was too tapered and I got stuck. And I really liked that one!" Cindy pouted again.
"There will be other sweaters, Goldilocks." Lindsay snarked. "How about that one?" She pointed to the hanger.
Cindy promptly popped it on and smoothed it out. Doing a little twirl, she asked " That was much easier, wasn't it? So, what do you think?"
"Uh..." The Boxer could do nothing but stare and mutter.
"Fits pretty well, do you like the colour?" Cindy enjoyed Lindsay's discomfiture.
"Uh..."
"Never mind, if could you give me a hand taking it off, I think I'll take it."
Lindsay's grin was never going to leave her face.
Author: sportysmurf
Fandom: Women’s Murder Club
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Rating: PG
Word Count: Drabble
Archive: Just let me know…
Disclaimer: Not mine. James Patterson’s. Only for fun and entertainment (I hope)
Spoilers: None
Summary: Cindy could use a hand
A/N: In support of WMC Day! A good idea from demeter94
A/N2: Unbeta-ed and late due to RL :(
'Geez, what is taking the woman so long?!'
Not a happy shopper on the best of days, Lindsay Boxer paced outside the fitting rooms with all the grace and patience of a thwarted panther. All she would need was a flickering tail to complete the picture. One look at the disgruntled inspector was enough to send any salesperson scuttling off in another direction.
"Cindy!" Receiving no reply, she tried again. "Cindy, come on. How hard can it be to try on a couple of sweaters and a pair of jeans?" growled the brunette, mentally counting the number of things she could possibly be doing aside from standing outside a Bloomy's fitting room.
"Mmmph!" and "Scqueerr!" came from inside.
"What's that? Speak up, I can't understand a word you're saying!"
"EEEeee-weater-rrk!"
The door to the fitting room swung open to reveal the flailing arms and rather cute abdominal area of the young reporter.
"Erm, could you - I mean, do you need some help?" asked a puzzled inspector.
Another frustrated "reeeekrrr" shrilled from within the sweater-monster, accompanied by further flailing.
Lindsay grabbed the flailing arms before they could cause any damage to herself or their owner and backed Cindy into the fitting room before closing the door. No need to advertise attributes that were meant for her eyes only.
"Now relax and breathe. Raise your arms up above your head." Lindsay held back a grin as she thought of how yoga-like her instructions sounded. 'Better than the usual reason I'm asking someone to raise their hands over their head,' she mused. "How did you manage to get like this anyway?"
Greeted with additional flailing and unintelligible squeals that might possibly be curses, Lindsay tried again. " Straighten your arms a bit more..." She managed to gently ease the sweater up and over Cindy's breasts and paused a moment to admire the view.
"Ow!" A sharp kick to her shin and the snippiness of the accompanying noises from within the sweater advised her to get on with the process.
Struggling to control her laughter, the brunette finally freed a thoroughly disheveled and steaming redhead from the sweater.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Cindy frowned at her lover. "You're laughing at me!" she pouted accusingly.
"Well..."
"Don't even try to deny it! You're laughing and you were ogling me!" charged the miffed reporter.
Busted on the ogling, Lindsay just smiled and flashed her dimples at the grumpy young woman. "Ok, well I guess that sweater is out - what about the other one?"
"It was - stop staring! It was too tapered and I got stuck. And I really liked that one!" Cindy pouted again.
"There will be other sweaters, Goldilocks." Lindsay snarked. "How about that one?" She pointed to the hanger.
Cindy promptly popped it on and smoothed it out. Doing a little twirl, she asked " That was much easier, wasn't it? So, what do you think?"
"Uh..." The Boxer could do nothing but stare and mutter.
"Fits pretty well, do you like the colour?" Cindy enjoyed Lindsay's discomfiture.
"Uh..."
"Never mind, if could you give me a hand taking it off, I think I'll take it."
Lindsay's grin was never going to leave her face.