For WMC Day! After the Diner - Part 2
Title: After the Diner Part 2
Author: sportysmurf
Fandom: Women’s Murder Club
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,744
Archive: Just let me know…
Disclaimer: Not mine. James Patterson’s. Only for fun and entertainment (I hope)
Spoilers: None
Summary: Everyone else 'finds out'
A/N: In support of WMC Day! A good idea from demeter94
A/N2: Cheers to my betas and support system Mar and Smurf
A/N3: Sorry I've been AWOL - my muse took off when I changed jobs and bought my house.
PART 1 (which was so long ago, don't worry if you don't remember)
Lindsay Boxer woke up and stretched. Yawning, she checked her phone and found an unread text message that she’d apparently slept through. On the couch.
Staring wildly at the phone, the words brought everything back from the evening before in stark simplicity - “Hey you, I let myself out. Call me and I’ll pick you up. Hugs!”
Dropping the phone, she fell back onto the couch.
What had she been thinking? She’d only meant to ask Cindy if she’d like to go to the 49er’s preseason game and somehow that had morphed into a wild outburst expressing her feelings for the little redhead. Not to mention some overprotective posturing around Jamie Galvan.
Burying her head under her pillow, she groaned. ‘What did I do? What do I do?’ ran like a police banner through her thoughts. Although it hadn’t gone any further than that heartfelt divulgence and some light inconsequential chatting, she knew she’d stepped over some unmarked line and desperately wished she could step back.
She sat back up and wondered if there was any way that her words could be misconstrued as platonic. This was not very likely, given the adoring looks that her confession had produced. Groaning again, she thought, ‘I’m straight! I’ve been married, I like guys, I date guys -.’ Even she could hear Jill’s snort at that comment. ‘Maybe I could get the swine flu and just not show my face - ever. ‘
With no currently hot cases and the day off, she could conceivably avoid Cindy until she could figure out an alternate course of action. i.e. She could hide.
“Dammit, I just wanted to ask her to the football game.” A game, she reminded herself that she knew nothing about and wasn’t really interested in.
The abandoned phone ‘bleeked’ at her and, distractedly, she looked at the display, gratified to see that it was Jill.
“Hey.”
“Hey, did you forget? Breakfast at Papa Joe’s. We’re waiting on you and Cindy.”
‘Me and Cindy? There is no me and Cindy. What’s she talking about?’ Lindsay Boxer was panicking. ‘Oh god, did Cindy already tell them what I said?’
“Hey, Linds? You there?” Jill’s voice interrupted her wild train of thought.
“Yeah, sorry, slept in - too much to drink, I guess. I’ll have to get cleaned up and - .” she mumbled.
“Oh no you don’t! Don’t even think about bailing on us!”
“I’m not bailing, I’m - dammit Jill, I just want a shower!” she barked back.
“Then move your Texan ass, Boxer! If I don’t see you in 25 minutes, I’m gonna come over and drag you out!” Apparently, Claire had grabbed the phone.
“Geez - good morning to you, too! Did Cindy get the same treatment?”
“Already done, though we thought she’d be picking you up since your Jeep’s still here,” came a much calmer reply.
“Uh - no, why would you think that?”
“Because she said she left you a message that said she’d pick you up? What’s wrong with you? Now get off the phone and get over here!” The phone fairly buzzed with mama bear attitude.
Lindsay rolled her eyes as she heard the ‘click’ of disconnection. Not permitted whatever witty response she was planning to shoot back, she again dropped the phone and started towards the bathroom, promptly tripping over an expectant Martha and crashing to the floor.
“Uhhhh... God.”
After tucking in her inspector on the couch (she was her inspector now, wasn’t she?), Cindy patted a snoozing Martha and quietly let herself out of the house. Skipping down the stairs and walk, she waited until she was within the private confines of Maggie before letting loose an undiluted squeal of joy.
She puttered back to her apartment in such a state of excitement that she could barely concentrate on the road, missing her own street the first time around. All she wanted to do was scream to the world ‘Lindsay Boxer likes ME!’ It was like that scene out of Fiddler on the Roof - a miracle!
Finally home and finding that she, not surprisingly, couldn’t sleep, she tried to read. Then she tried to work on an article on the rampant ‘snatch and grabs’ occurring throughout a local suburb. In the end, she settled for sending Lindsay a quick text and trying to curl up in bed.
Her eyes glowed with happiness as she looked forward to a non-club breakfast the next - well...later that same morning. Although she was normally excited to see her friends, mostly because Lindsay would be there, this time would be different. This time, a certain sexy brunette would be all hers. And she wouldn’t have to try to hide her adoration.
The last conscious thought in her head before she drifted off was ‘Mine.’
After performing a quick inventory and concluding she had suffered no lasting injury aside from her damaged pride, Lindsay sat up and cursed. A whine and wet nose to her chin reminded her to give Martha the once over to make sure she was also unhurt. It also broke her out of her bout of self-pity, and she hugged her collie close.
‘It’s not you, girl. Mom’s just not all here right now,” she murmured into russet fur.
Martha responded with several thumps of her tail on the floor. Giving the adorable dog a scratch behind the ears, she achingly rose from the floor and continued off towards the bathroom.
Lindsay Boxer emerged from a steaming shower feeling somewhat refreshed and definitely calmer. A rap at the door came just as she was finished dressing.
Martha immediately trotted to the door with her mistress not far behind. Another rapid knock prompted her to yell “Hold your horses, I’m coming!” Running her hand through unruly damp locks, muttering, “Geez,” under her breath, she unlocked and opened the door to find a nervously smiling redhead.
Some of her initial panic that had been rinsed away by the shower now returned as she peered down at her friend, who raised a timid hand and waved at her.
“Hi.”
Unnerved by the brunette’s intense gaze and lack of speech, Cindy bounced from foot to foot and finally said; “Um, I thought you might need this,” and offered up a double-caramel latte.
“Huh? Oh, thanks!” Lindsay realized she’d just been silently staring at the reporter long enough to make Cindy nervous. Accepting the latte, she ushered the redhead through the door to be greeted by an enthusiastic Martha. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” she said, ducking back into the bathroom.
Cindy absent-mindedly wandered about the living room, taking in the various details she hadn’t had time to digest the night before. After the initial burst of recognition, Martha had dropped to the floor to watch her with bored eyes. The reporter filed away each minute detail that she gleaned from her ‘inspection’ for future reference. After all, who knew when something inconsequential might prove to be useful, even if only for leverage?
Lindsay‘s mildly amused “Can I help you with something?” brought Cindy out of her musings with a jump. “You looked like you were committing everything to memory.”
“Uh, me? No - just staring off into space, I get like that sometimes,” sputtered the redhead, knowing that - even though she hadn’t been snooping, she was blushing as if she had. She headed for the door with the hope that her blush would dissipate by the time they reached the restaurant.
Fortunately, Lindsay was truly too wrapped up in her own worries to poke too much fun at her friend. In fact, she was sure that if she had been left in the same position, she would have been politely examining her friend’s living space just as thoroughly. It reminded her that, while subtle, yesterday’s interchange had definitely moved their friendship into an entirely different phase. And if her senses didn’t tell her that, Cindy’s demeanour certainly did.
“Would you just stop that!” she scowled at her friend who was almost skipping along beside her.
“Stop what?” grinned the redhead.
“That absolutely insane bouncing around and giggling. You’re acting like a 5-week-old puppy.” Lindsay grumped as they slid into the booth across from their friends.
On cue, immense puppy-dog eyes accompanied by a protruding lower lip were turned on her. It was a lot less effective, however, as the owner of the puppy-dog eyes and protruding lip was continuing to bounce to and fro in her seat.
“Oh, just quit it. I hate it when you do that.”
“B, but, but...”
“CINDY!” barked the exasperated inspector.
Jill and Claire exchanged amused smiles.
“Just what has gotten into her?” they asked, looking at the overly animated little reporter.
“She’s happy,” said Lindsay sourly.
“Nobody’s that happy,” remarked Jill. “What is with you?”
Cindy looked up at the brunette expectantly, her grin threatening to explode off her face.
“Oh, go ahead. You know you want to.”
“What? Did you run away and get married in Vegas?”
“She - “Cindy pointed at her seat companion, “Likes me!” pointing at herself and nearly falling out of the booth.
“That’s nice, sweetie,” deadpanned Claire, trying to keep the smile off her face. “We,” she indicated the blonde next to her, “Like you, too.”
The redhead’s face fell somewhat and she looked at them suspiciously. “I mean, she like, likes me.” She said in a tiny voice.
Jill smirked at the inspector. “That true, Boxer? Did you tell her you like her?” The blonde refrained from adding ‘finally.’
With the attention now turned to her, the taciturn brunette began to squirm in her seat and blush. “Well, I, uh...” She lifted her hands helplessly. “She pouts! And she does that puppy-dog eye thing. And she names inanimate objects...” she trailed off as her friends burst into laughter.
“What?!” she grumped, crossing her arms.
“Well, for one thing, you pout almost as well as she does,” commented Jill.
“And...”
“It’s about TIME!” they chorused.
Cindy had been practically sitting on her hands while waiting for the response to her statements. Still new enough to the ‘club’, she hadn’t been sure exactly what to expect. The exchange between her friends was succeeded by the reappearance of her radiant smile.
She bounced in her seat again, gaining yet another annoyed look from Lindsay. Even that couldn’t dampen her spirits. She bounced again, just to irk her friend and flashed the smile that she knew bought forgiveness for just about anything. Even jail time.