Fic: The Comfort Of Silence
Title: The Comfort Of Silence
Author: Demeter
Fandom: Women's Murder Club
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Summary: There is a time and place for everything.
A/N: This took me a long time to write through all the tribulations in WMC fandom, but it's finally out of the WIP folder. 2 deleted. I'm almost done.
The Comfort of Silence
By Demeter
It was snowing heavily, the night sky illuminated by the infinite number of tiny crystals falling endlessly, every sound swallowed by a heavy white blanket. As a child, twenty-five years ago and then some, Lindsay Boxer had thought of nights like this, especially around Christmas, as magic.
There was no magic in the present day. And yet, tonight, as she lay awake, with the woman sleeping in her arms, the memory of a safer time was comforting and haunting alike.
***
The tug of war with the department psychiatrist was familiar, a well-practiced dance of two partners who knew every step of it by heart. Or so she'd thought, because he'd made a turn that she had expected and when it came, still caught her off guard.
"I'm sorry, there's no guilt I can offer," she told him. "The guy was shooting people randomly; he nearly killed a friend of mine, so no, I can't actually bring myself to regret the fact that I killed him."
"He might not be the problem at all."
"You mean that how?" Lindsay was aware that her words sounded slightly defensive. She could guess where he was going with this, and it was not something she wanted to discuss here. Come to think of it, she didn't want to discuss it at all, with anyone.
"Having people we care about involved in a potentially lethal situation complicates an assignment," he stated the obvious.
"I'm not exactly new to that situation. As you might recall, my father was murdered by a serial killer," she retorted.
"But that's not why you're here now."
Damn him and his simple logic. "Okay, yes, when we heard that some maniac was shooting up the Register, it made a difference to me. Is that what you want to hear?"
"I'm not IA," the psychiatrist pointed out. "You've been cleared, after all. What I'm interested in, is, if you go into a situation like this the next time, will you be able to put aside what happened there?"
Lindsay took the time to consider his question, before she leaned forward with a heavy sigh that was almost enough of an answer. "I don't know," she said, and it was an answer every bit as honest as she could give at the moment. "I just don't know."
***
The two-bedroom cabin belonged to a friend of Denise's. While she had reasoned her motivation for the offer with 'the wonderful prospect of having all of you out of town for at least a weekend', it had been easy to look behind the facade. When you took a real close look, you could find that in the aftermath of life-or-death scenarios, Denise Kwon could have a bleeding heart, too. Blink, and you'd miss it.
The guilt each of them carried with them, was of a different quality for each. For Jill, it was mostly about not having been there, not being able to offer comfort, but what could she have done anyway by the time Lindsay had called?
Jill didn't think she'd ever forget that moment. You could tell it was bad if Lindsay was this terrified and didn't care about letting it show. Confronted with the reason, Jill had been winded, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut hard, knocking the breath out of her.
That feeling had stayed with her for a long time. She needed to get out of the city. They all needed it.
Denise had walked in on her one day when she'd been poring over travel brochures, wondering how to approach her best for some time off.
"The city won't come to a halt if you're not here for a few days," her ever-supportive boss said. "Come on, leave all that. I know something better."
***
I'm going to kill him, Cindy Thomas thought when her colleague walked into the room like he owned the place. Well, for today, he kind of did with that miracle he'd pulled, snatching the story from under her, practically.
She sat at her desk, trying hard not to sulk when thinking about how close she had been, only to find out that his version was ready for print. She knew he had dated one of his sources, an employee at the meat plant that had been shut down for several illegal activities of his owner, but what would it change to bring that up? It would only sound like sour grapes. The grapes did taste pretty sour to her at the moment.
The only thing that could bring up her sullen mood was that in a few minutes, Claire Washburn would arrive and take her out of her misery in favor of a girl's night out. She'd been looking forward to this all day; so a bit of the stress and annoyance left her when she caught sight of her friend standing in the doorway, and she smiled for what seemed the first time today.
"Hey, sweetie. You ready to go?"
Cindy greeted her with a hug. "I so am," she said with a glare at Scott's back. She sighed. The 'club' had been giving her a distinct advantage for the past few months, which was great, but none of them could work magic. She needed to stop being a sore loser.
"Wait, I left my cell phone."
"Expecting any important calls from someone?" Claire asked smiling suggestively, and even though Cindy could positively answer this 'no', the blush still crept to her cheeks. Expecting and hoping for was not necessarily the same thing.
"They're all important, aren't they?"
"Not tonight. I think--"
Claire never finished the sentence as the same moment, a man entered the room, pulling a weapon and firing rapidly. Cindy's earlier careless thoughts came to a horrible reality as her colleague she had lost the story to was hit first.
There were more shots, and she didn't realize she was screaming until Claire firmly placed her hand over Cindy's mouth.
***
They had all worked over Christmas, but managed to get some collective time off for the week after that, a day before New Year's Eve. Probably a good idea not to be in the city by the time of the fireworks. She had noticed Cindy flinch at the sound of a door slamming shut, and while Claire was hiding it better, Lindsay could tell that she was shaken, too. She had the safe space of her family, though. It was what they were going to be for Cindy now, family giving a safe space.
And if Lindsay was really honest, having her friends in one place, for at least a while safe from any possible harm, was the best healing she could find for herself. She wasn't going to fool herself into thinking that it would last forever. They had chosen these jobs and the downsides, the brushes with danger and death that came with it. But everybody deserved a time-out.
The weather forecast had predicted heavy snowfall for the days to come at their chosen destination, and it started lightly on the drive.
At 4 PM, it the sky was already darkening with clouds and dusk alike, so instead of actually staying at the café for a break, they picked up some snacks and beverages to take with them.
"Aren't we there soon?"
Lindsay had to smile at the sight in the rear view mirror. Cindy, all bundled up with the hat nearly covering her eyes, actually looked like twelve at the moment, and the question fit that impression.
"About an hour," she estimated. "I think someone's ready for bed already?"
Claire smiled gently, Jill chuckled to herself.
So many things left unsaid, becoming harder to evade. Moments like this, Lindsay wasn't quite sure that this vacation was a good idea. She couldn't turn back now, though.
***
When sleeping arrangements were discussed, there was more laughter as Jill frowned at Claire, saying, "You're a respectable married woman. Are you really sure you want to share a bed with me?"
No one had asked Lindsay or Cindy, because they just presumed they'd be okay with the inevitable conclusion to Jill and Claire taking one of the rooms.
When the door finally fell shut behind them, Lindsay started putting away clothes, realizing a moment later that Cindy had not even taken off her jacket. "Hey." She steered her friend in the direction of the king-sized bed and made her sit down. "I was serious before. You should lie down for a bit."
She pulled down the zipper of the jacket, taking it off of her. "We can put stuff away later. I'll get down and we'll see what's for dinner, and we wake you in time."
"I'd rather not be alone," Cindy said quietly, her eyes downcast as she got up again.
Lindsay didn't quite know how, but she mustered an encouraging smile. "Okay then. There was a couch in the living room that looked fairly comfortable."
***
The call came in at two-thirty on a gray, rainy day when most people were about to do some Christmas shopping, the streets were packed and an obtrusive holiday cheer greeted you from every store. A typical day in mid-December.
When it was clear the 911 call came from the Register, though, the world tilted on its axis.
Robert Malcolm had been Lindsay's case. In order to maximize the profit of his business, he had severely neglected health regulations for his employees, causing one woman to have a miscarriage. She'd wanted to sue - he had her killed.
His business was ruined though, and when he made bail, he also executed revenge on whom he considered responsible.
She was aware of the look Tom was giving her, and she knew he thought about not letting her go. She couldn't let that happen, could not stay on the sidelines here. "I can handle it," she told him.
"Are you sure?" Lindsay knew he would only ask this once. She nodded.
The drive was made in tense silence. In her mind, she replayed the 911 message, a terrified woman who told them about shoots being fired on the 6th floor. The one where Cindy worked. The caller said that people had been hit.
The hallways were eerily silent, the building in lock down. The fear of the people behind the locked doors, almost palpable.
They had heard him from half a floor down, yelling, rage out of control. Another shot was fired. What chilled her even more, though, was the unexpected sound of Claire's voice, trying to reason with the killer.
"Look, you don't want to kill her. You're mad at the ones who wrote the story about you, granted, but she didn't have anything to do with it. You cannot kill more people."
***
"Look at this!"
She didn't entirely feel at ease yet, but Lindsay allowed a small smile to curve her lips at Jill's happy exclamation at the sight of the hot tub. She turned to Lindsay with a smile. "You know, I feel very forgiving towards Denise all of a sudden. This is perfect, isn't it?"
Her eyes were pleading, her gaze hopeful. Secretly, Lindsay was doubtful if the prolonged weekend out of San Francisco would be enough to just get on with life, but then again, they didn't have a lot of alternatives, and Denise's offer had indeed been a sweet one.
"It's great," she offered. It was. And if she felt a little uncomfortable still, it was that she wasn't used to the silence, not inside, but all around.
If the weather held, they'd be snowed in within a day or two. They had enough supplies stocked not to have to worry about that, but still. The feeling of getting trapped came more easily to her than she'd ever shared with her friends.
Looking over her shoulder, she found Cindy almost asleep on her feet. There hadn't been much time to talk since she had been home from the hospital that day, but it occurred to Lindsay just now that she hadn't only been reluctant to stay alone in their room, but didn't seem to want to go to sleep not even in the safe space of the living room.
"Before we try that though, how about dinner?"
Suddenly, three pairs of eyes turned to Claire, and she held up her hands.
"Ah, come on. Being a mom does not mean you have a cooking gene."
"I don't know about that, obviously." Jill's eyes sparkled with laughter. "But you can't deny your mad cooking skills."
"I can throw something together," Lindsay said. The prospect of having something other to do that stare out into the pitch darkness around the cabin really did appeal to her at the moment.
"Oh, come on." There was a hint of exasperation to Cindy's voice. "You drove all day. I can cook. Jill can help me, and as long as she does what I say, nothing can go wrong."
Lindsay wanted to say something, but Cindy's eyes implored and Claire's warned her not to. She hadn't been aware of her own exhaustion until now; truth was they all were.
"Right," Claire drawled. "Let the young folk do it."
"Who are you calling old?"
Snickering and obviously pleased with the implied compliment, Jill and Cindy headed for the kitchen.
***
After a delicious meal, several glasses of the deep red wine and too long in the hot shower, Lindsay was ready to spend the next eight hours deeply unconscious. She headed out of the bathroom nearly bumping into Cindy, wondering when the room and especially the bed had shrunken in size. There seemed very little space in between them.
Taking in the soft-looking white velveteen pajamas Cindy was wearing, with a butterfly and the words 'Sweet Dreams' embroidered on it, Lindsay felt slightly self-conscious in the simple wear she'd chosen. A completely inappropriate laugh wanted to bubble up inside of her at the thought that she wasn't properly dressed to share a bed with Cindy Thomas.
What had she been thinking anyway?
Neither of them seemed to have words to break the silence that had enveloped them all of a sudden, but those unspoken words rang even more urgently.
"Good night," she murmured finally, slipping under the covers, nearly sighing with relief at finally giving her body a rest. Her hand was on the switch of the lamp already, but Cindy still sat on her side of the bed.
"Come on, you're getting cold."
"I didn't know we were going to share. You know, I -- sleep kind of restless. Lately."
"I've been told I sleep kind of restless all the time, so I guess we're even."
The instant she'd said those words, in a lame attempt to lighten the mood, Lindsay feared that it had really been an invitation to talk about the terror they'd shared, and she'd blown it. How could she have told? Cindy didn't seem to want to talk about it. She'd never made the attempt before.
Maybe, Lindsay told herself, she'd just overreacted, because Cindy smiled and said, "That's good then. Sleep well."
"You too."
And doesn't it mean anything that you laugh at all my bad jokes?
***
The woman lying on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound in her chest, couldn't be more than thirty. Chances were, she had nothing to do with the article, not that it would have given the jerk any right to shoot anyone.
Cindy kneeled beside her, using her jacket to apply pressure. Claire was still trying to talk the shooter down from his crazed state, to no avail.
That was the scenery to which Lindsay had come into the room, yelling at him to put the gun down. Of course, he didn't. Malcolm raised it at himself, but then in a quick motion pointed it back at his hostages, is finger tightening on the trigger.
Lindsay had been faster.
In her mind, Cindy's scream still echoed, as blood splattered her hair and face.
Claire had been frighteningly silent, but when asked, she claimed to be okay. None of them really was, but lucky, considering. Not so Cindy's colleague; she died before the paramedics had a chance to come in.
"She had two small kids," Cindy whispered. She didn't break down crying, but when Lindsay offered her an embrace, she'd held on tight enough to leave light bruises.
***
A sound startled her from a sleep that hadn't been as deep as she had hoped to begin with. The digital clock on the nightstand showed 2:37. Cindy murmured something in her sleep, but showed no signs of waking up.
Reaching for her gun, Lindsay got out of bed, leaving the room and closing the door softly behind her.
She'd check, just in case.
She eased down the stairs making almost no sound as she got closer the the source of the sound. Lindsay caught sight of a shadow.
"Freeze!" she ordered, and a startled Claire dropped the glass she was holding.
"Don't shoot, it's just me!"
On shaky knees that felt like she'd just stepped off a roller-coaster, literally, Lindsay took a step backwards and reached for the light switch.
"Why didn't you turn on a light?" she asked irritably.
"It was light enough with the snow and moonlight outside," Claire defended herself. "Now could you put that away, please?"
It wasn't until then that Lindsay realized that the unexpected sight of a gun was probably most unwelcome for her friend.
"I'm sorry. Couldn't sleep?" she asked softly.
Claire sighed.
"Me either." It wasn't entirely true, but now that Lindsay was awake, she didn't think sleep would come back easily. She still had her troubles with the environment. "Why don't we sit down for a bit?"
They took seats near the fireplace. Outside, it was still snowing.
After a moment of silence, Claire said, "I keep wondering, if there was something more I could have done. Or worse - if I did something wrong."
"If you hadn't kept him talking, he would have killed more people, including you and Cindy." The mere thought was enough to make her choke up. "You did everything right."
Claire looked relieved at that.
***
Later that night, sleep still eluded her, but Lindsay was tired enough for her censors being down, so she could admit all the questions that were on her mind and look at each of them.
How close was she really to the point of no return where affection and attraction melted into one? And if she let it go that far... if they both wanted to let it go that far which was a big 'if' at the moment...
She let herself wonder what she would do with a woman, mortified about these thoughts and fairly amused about being mortified. Feeling like she didn't deserve the absolute trust of the friend who slept, peacefully relaxed, beside her, but having them anyway.
Lindsay remembered talking to Martha over breakfast, about why it was so hard to talk to her human (and wonderful) friends about sex. She was still convinced there was some truth to it. Claire - she would know right away and find out every single thing that was on Lindsay's mind, the notion enough to be panic-inducing. She remembered going from a question why she had done something as innocent as to sit down in the morgue to a full-blown confession about her side-step with Tom.
Jill - she'd probably find out, too, and give some advice. Hold that thought, Lindsay thought wryly. That might be some advice that she could use, though it could get awkward.
Cindy - absolutely, impossibly, no.
***
It was freezing cold outside, so the first day was started by sleeping in until Claire was the first to have mercy and start a fire in the living room. Breakfast was being prepared in a group effort.
It seemed weird, Lindsay reflected, that they'd never done this before, go on a retreat together, after all the secrets, laughter and pain shared. She could, surprisingly, feel this place lifting her spirits, something she hadn't thought possible yesterday. Once you got used to the quiet, it wasn't so bad after all.
She'd almost forgotten how good quiet could feel.
“Why, I'm just talking. Not that I expect you to listen to me.” Cindy gave her a friendly nudge, jolting her out of her reverie.
Aware of three pairs of attentive eyes on her, Lindsay dropped her gaze to her plate quickly. “I'm sorry,” she muttered. At best, she was conflicted. Yesterday, she'd pondered high ideals about being family for Cindy, the perfect safe space, but Lindsay was aware she hadn't been completely honest to herself. It had scared her deeply to have two of her best friends involved in a hostage situation. These women felt more like family to herself than her own ever had; she just couldn't imagine losing either of them.
Although in Cindy's case, there might be additional reasons, the ones that would likely get her into trouble before the vacation was over.
“Linds is still out of it from all the driving,” Jill suggested, gently teasing. “That's what you get for letting none of us drive your car.”
“I'm still adjusting to the climate too,” Claire offered a voice of reason. “This kind of winter is different from what we are used to at home.”
“Try that hot tub today. It's heaven.” Obviously, Jill hadn't been able to wait.
Looking up, Lindsay caught Cindy's smile at her, and for a moment, it wasn't so hard to let go of all potentially complicating factors in their relationship. It was good to be here. They were all going to be alright.
***
In the afternoon, Cindy and Claire went for a walk while Jill and Lindsay opted to stay inside, treating themselves to hot chocolate with rum.
"Ew, it's lukewarm." Lindsay frowned.
Jill chuckled. "That's because you just spiked your rum with hot chocolate. Try it the other way around - or is there something you need the courage for? Wait, there is?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. Look, there's something I'd like to ask you if you don't mind." She could always blame it on the alcohol later, but the opportunity seemed to good to miss.
"I can't tell you if I mind before you ask," Jill pointed out reasonably. "I'm just kidding! Come on, Linds, it can't be that bad."
"It's not actually bad." She smiled, more to herself. Stopped the moment she realized she actually had to say it out loud, or this would get her nowhere. "You have dated women, right?"
At that, Jill gave her a knowing smile. Damn it, she was just as bad as Claire. Lindsay glanced at the clock over the fireplace, slightly assured that Claire and Cindy wouldn't be back for at least another hour.
"That's all you need to ease your mind?" Jill asked teasingly. "Sure I have."
"So...?"
"So, what?"
Lindsay sighed. This would be easier if she'd known where to start in the first place, and if Jill didn't make her work so hard for it. “Hey, I'm the one asking you.”
“Well, I guess it depends if you're merely a little bi-curious or truly madly deeply in love with that person,” Jill said cheerfully, nearly making Lindsay choke on the sip she'd just taken. “Okay. That's what I thought. I take it you haven't talked to Cindy yet?”
Lindsay knew that the alarm was showing on her face. “Who said anything about Cindy?”
“You do? Linds.” Jill gave her an indulgent, affectionate smile. “You do it every time you just look at her.”
“I do? I don't. C'mon, I know you're just yanking my chain here.” Lindsay half hoped that it was the case, as she realized she was all but ready to have the truth out in the open. Especially here, being snowed in with Cindy and their curious friends, having nowhere to go--
“I'm not sure... I know... what to do,” she confessed, her face burning now. Damn that rum.
“It's not that hard,” Jill assured her. “Wait. Promise me you won't freak, okay?” Could be that she had had the same concoction of mostly rum with a token amount of chocolate in it, because her method seemed rather unconventional to Lindsay. Not waiting for an answer, Jill simply leaned forward and kissed her.
She was just beginning to realize that maybe Jill was right and she could do this after all when the sound of footsteps alerted them to the presence of their friends. Lindsay jerked back, but she could tell from the look on Cindy's face that it was too late.
“Look,” Jill said calmly, “It's not what you think.”
“Whatever,” Cindy said curtly. “I'm sorry to interrupt.” With those words, she all but fled from the room.
“If it's not what I think,” Claire asked slightly admonishing, “What the hell is going on?”
Jill smiled a little sheepishly while Lindsay decided that this was a good moment to intently study the carpet pattern.
She'd known this confession would get her into trouble, one way or another.
***
Cindy was back in time for dinner, but she looked kind of sullen and only spoke when she was asked a direct question. As they were clearing the table, Jill announced, “Cindy and I will be going for a walk.”
“What?” Lindsay frowned at the suggestion. “It's dark outside. Your sense of direction is questionable at best.”
“Don't insult me. We'll manage a few steps around the house,” Jill said confidently. Lindsay opened her mouth to add something, but Claire laid a hand on her arm. “I'm sure they will. You and I will manage the dishes in the meantime.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes but followed Claire into the kitchen without any protest save for a few words muttered under her breath.
Cindy looked indecisive. “Let's go,” Jill prompted. “You can throw a snowball at me if you want to.”
She hadn't missed that Cindy had to stifle a smile at the suggestion.
***
They walked several minutes in the quiet cold outside, both of them silent. Jill, because she knew what she wanted to say, and she knew that Cindy was working up either an accusation or an apology.
Eventually, she sighed. “ I just didn't know, okay?”
“Cindy,” Jill said gently. “There is nothing to know. Lindsay and I got plastered and a little silly.
We're friends. Platonic best friends.”
“That looked very platonic to me,” Cindy muttered.
“Okay, that's it. Lindsay's gonna kill me, but you've got the cuter pout and I'm not going to spend the rest of the weekend with you looking like I ran over your puppy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Cindy still wasn't looking at her, but she sounded more amused than angry. It was a start.
“Do you really have no idea that Lindsay's head over heels for you?”
Cindy's reaction was a tiny gasp. “That's why she's been kissing you. I can see how that makes sense.”
“She's uncertain... about her feelings, and yours. Not to mention the rum. But I can assure you, the talk was all about you.”
“And that's supposed to reassure me?” Finally, Cindy looked at her, a hopeful little smile on her face.
“It should. I'm certainly not the one standing in the way of a beautiful happy ending here.” With a wink to her friend, Jill continued, “You guys got two more nights of sleeping in the same bed. You better make use of the opportunity.”
Startled, she realized that Cindy's eyes were suddenly very bright. “I don't know, it all seems too much at the moment. I'm trying so hard to forget... but I can't. I just.”
“It's gonna take some time.” Not wanting to scramble for any more platitudes, Jill simply opened her arms and embraced Cindy. “You know I've learned that when bad things happen, it doesn't mean you don't deserve to be happy. You keep waiting for your moment and it just never comes because there's so much shit out there.” After that, she just stayed silent and let Cindy cry.
***
Cindy was quiet, but at least she didn't seem to be mad anymore, Lindsay reflected when they later said goodnight once more. Just very thoughtful. She wondered what Jill had told her outside, and if she'd ever find a way out of this mess. Real life wasn't like the movies when a close call immediately made people rethink their lives, second chances and happy endings.
And what was she fantasizing about anyway?
Jill had gotten her hopes up way too high, and that didn't make it easier to stand the silence that settled between them right after they'd turned off the light.
She listened to Cindy's breathing deepen, sliding into a shallow uncomfortable sleep herself.
The scream jolted her out of it, her first impulse to reach for the gun. A split-second later, Lindsay realized that it wasn't the kind of situation to be resolved with a firearm. She could have just as well shared the imagery of Cindy's nightmare, that little time it took her to be right back into it.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You awake?”
“Yes. And so are you. I'm sorry,” Cindy whispered back, her voice sounding choked.
“It's okay.” It was really not, but if some non-sensical phrases helped, then so be it. “You want to... talk about it?”
Cindy gave a heart-wrenching sigh. “Not really.”
As the silence stretched, seconds and then minutes, Lindsay wondered if this was the moment to carefully test Jill's theory. This was a special situation. She could back out later if she needed to, right?
She drew the covers a bit higher and then, slowly, laid her arm around Cindy's waist. It seemed like the natural thing to do, and to her relief, Cindy relaxed against her immediately. “That's okay. Try to go back to sleep then?”
“You don't have to do that.”
“It's what friends do,” Lindsay said, and then wanted to slap herself. Her thoughts in the past couple of days had become all but friend-ly. It wasn't the right time, obviously.
“Friends.”
“Very good friends.” Lindsay wished she'd had the courage to go just that one tiny step further. Maybe tomorrow.
It was snowing heavily, the night sky illuminated by the infinite number of tiny crystals falling endlessly, every sound swallowed by a heavy white blanket. As a child, twenty-five years ago and then some, Lindsay Boxer had thought of nights like this, especially around Christmas, as magic.
There was no magic in the present day. And yet, tonight, as she lay awake, with the woman sleeping in her arms, the memory of a safer time was comforting and haunting alike.
***
Claire softly closed the door again after finding both occupants of the room fast asleep still. She turned to Jill who wore a mischievous, knowing grin, shaking her head.
“I have to say that your methods, though unorthodox, work quite well. It doesn't look like they'll be up - for anything - anytime soon, so let's have breakfast.”
When Jill's hand went for the doorknob, Claire gave her a stern look. “Don't. They really need their rest now.”
Jill sighed. “I suppose the same goes for you. How are you holding up?”
Claire smiled wistfully as they turned from the door and walked towards the kitchen.
“Still wanting to believe in happy endings,” she said.
***
By the time Lindsay woke up, Cindy was already gone, and she could tell by the chatter from the kitchen that she'd be the last one to be up. She showered and dressed quickly, finding her friends over a generous brunch type of breakfast.
“Good morning,” she said, and Cindy turned to her with a smile, making Lindsay halt in her step. Because maybe for the first time, she allowed herself to look past the tiredness and the dark circles under Cindy's eyes that told of many sleepless nights. What she saw, seemed to good to believe.
***
Cindy looked up from the book she was reading when Lindsay entered the room. She had to be feeling safer now, Lindsay reflected, staying all by herself after they'd stocked up the wood next to the fireplace.
Jill had announced that she'd retreat to the hot tub with her own paperback, and Claire had wanted to give it a try as well. Which left the two of them with some time and space, Lindsay thought, her face heating. Maybe she should simply take a nap. Or a cold shower. She shivered at the thought, wincing as a muscle in her shoulder cramped, reminding her of the morning's workout. Wuss, she told herself. That's how much you're used to the great outdoors.
Cindy regarded her over the rim of her glasses. “You okay?”
“Sure. I just might try that hot tub later, too.” Rather indecisive, Lindsay sat down on the edge of the bed, then pulled up her legs. Cindy laid her book aside and gave her another of those attentive looks. “Or I could give you a massage.”
“What?” Lindsay took an unsteady breath, the mere idea leaving her with a feeling somewhere in between being terrified and an anticipation going way too far. Cindy, however, was just warming to the idea.
“I'm actually pretty good at this,” she said confidently. “Take off your shirt, turn around - and leave the rest to me.” She couldn't tell Cindy no. When had she ever?
“And don't be so scared. I had a source once who worked in a massage parlor."
Lindsay threw her a doubtful gaze over her shoulder. "Do I want to know?"
"Probably not. I can assure you though that since those days, she got some diplomas and now works for a physiotherapist. She taught me a lot, though. Um, you gonna take that off too?"
Lindsay flinched as Cindy touched the strap of her bra.
"Are my hands too cold?" Cindy asked worriedly.
"It's fine." No, definitely not. They are perfect. Hastily, Lindsay discarded the piece of clothing and laid down on her stomach, nearly holding her breath as she waited for the touch, then again when it came.
"My, you're jumpy," Cindy said with a hint of amusement. "Relax, this is supposed to feel good."
That's what I'm afraid of... "I'm trying," Lindsay mumbled, pressing her flushed face into the pillow.
With a gentle touch, Cindy moved her hair to the side to bare her neck and shoulders. "Okay, so I hadn't really planned to use this here, but... never mind. Good that I brought it."
The sound of a bottle being opened preceded the faint scent of vanilla and honey in the air. Cindy's hands came back warm and slick, moving over her body confidently, melting the tension out of it. They went from her neck down to really low on her lower back, and with a sigh, Lindsay closed her eyes, trying to stifle a moan.
As if reading her thoughts, Cindy leaned over her, whispered, "It's okay. Let go."
Jesus.
"You are really good at this," she acknowledged, wondering if the mix of emotions was just as obvious to Cindy from the sound of her voice as it was to her. Confusion. Want. Guilt. She couldn't decide on one.
"Thanks."
Cindy worked in silence then, and it seemed only minutes until her hands stopped and she said, "All relaxed now, aren't you?"
It took Lindsay a while to muster the willpower to get up and reach for her bra. "I am. Thank you. That was amazing."
She reached behind her back to fasten the clasp. Her hands were shaking.
"Should I help you with that?"
Cindy didn't wait for an answer, but moved in close again. Slowly, she ran one hand down the length of Lindsay's back, then her hands moved up to her shoulders, drawing the straps from her shoulders like in slow motion, making sure permission was granted.
Then, tentatively, the hands moved around to cup her breasts.
Lindsay could practically feel Cindy's nervousness, the fear of rejection.
"That's not going to help me get dressed..."
"Do you mind?"
"No."
She turned around to allow her lips to meet Cindy's, to end all questions. There was no hesitation any longer.
"You must think I'm so easy," Cindy said worriedly, which was kind of funny since she still had a lot more clothes on her.
"No way. Now, I might have thought that when I put the cuffs on you the second time we met and you really seemed to like it."
"I did not," Cindy protested with indignation. "I was terrified."
"You were not."
"Was too."
Lindsay laughed before drawing her close again. "You were so not, but that's okay. Scaring you was the last thing on my mind."
"I've always felt safe with you," Cindy whispered and closed the space between them again.
They made love to the last rays of the afternoon sun, the fact that they weren't alone in the house or hadn't locked the door for that matter, only a fleeting thought.
***
Lazily, Lindsay thought that if the weather held, there was no that that they'd get out of here in time. With Cindy gloriously naked in her arms, she didn't mind at all. They wouldn't be running short on any supplies until in a week, so she was not in a hurry. Time had slowed down to a pleasant pace.
“What are you thinking?” Cindy asked the predictable question. Lindsay smiled, running her hand down Cindy's arm. “Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly.”
The hint of impatience made her smile grow wider. “I'm thinking I want to stay here forever.” She winced at how corny that sounded, but Cindy didn't seem to mind.
“That sounds awesome. Well, I think I'll want to have dinner at some point, but...” she said teasingly.
Laughing, Lindsay pulled her close again, and Cindy settled into her arms.
Outside, the snow continued to fall while they fell silent, on the verge of sleep, content in each other's company.
Maybe there was magic even in the present day after all.
Author: Demeter
Fandom: Women's Murder Club
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Summary: There is a time and place for everything.
A/N: This took me a long time to write through all the tribulations in WMC fandom, but it's finally out of the WIP folder. 2 deleted. I'm almost done.
The Comfort of Silence
By Demeter
It was snowing heavily, the night sky illuminated by the infinite number of tiny crystals falling endlessly, every sound swallowed by a heavy white blanket. As a child, twenty-five years ago and then some, Lindsay Boxer had thought of nights like this, especially around Christmas, as magic.
There was no magic in the present day. And yet, tonight, as she lay awake, with the woman sleeping in her arms, the memory of a safer time was comforting and haunting alike.
***
The tug of war with the department psychiatrist was familiar, a well-practiced dance of two partners who knew every step of it by heart. Or so she'd thought, because he'd made a turn that she had expected and when it came, still caught her off guard.
"I'm sorry, there's no guilt I can offer," she told him. "The guy was shooting people randomly; he nearly killed a friend of mine, so no, I can't actually bring myself to regret the fact that I killed him."
"He might not be the problem at all."
"You mean that how?" Lindsay was aware that her words sounded slightly defensive. She could guess where he was going with this, and it was not something she wanted to discuss here. Come to think of it, she didn't want to discuss it at all, with anyone.
"Having people we care about involved in a potentially lethal situation complicates an assignment," he stated the obvious.
"I'm not exactly new to that situation. As you might recall, my father was murdered by a serial killer," she retorted.
"But that's not why you're here now."
Damn him and his simple logic. "Okay, yes, when we heard that some maniac was shooting up the Register, it made a difference to me. Is that what you want to hear?"
"I'm not IA," the psychiatrist pointed out. "You've been cleared, after all. What I'm interested in, is, if you go into a situation like this the next time, will you be able to put aside what happened there?"
Lindsay took the time to consider his question, before she leaned forward with a heavy sigh that was almost enough of an answer. "I don't know," she said, and it was an answer every bit as honest as she could give at the moment. "I just don't know."
***
The two-bedroom cabin belonged to a friend of Denise's. While she had reasoned her motivation for the offer with 'the wonderful prospect of having all of you out of town for at least a weekend', it had been easy to look behind the facade. When you took a real close look, you could find that in the aftermath of life-or-death scenarios, Denise Kwon could have a bleeding heart, too. Blink, and you'd miss it.
The guilt each of them carried with them, was of a different quality for each. For Jill, it was mostly about not having been there, not being able to offer comfort, but what could she have done anyway by the time Lindsay had called?
Jill didn't think she'd ever forget that moment. You could tell it was bad if Lindsay was this terrified and didn't care about letting it show. Confronted with the reason, Jill had been winded, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut hard, knocking the breath out of her.
That feeling had stayed with her for a long time. She needed to get out of the city. They all needed it.
Denise had walked in on her one day when she'd been poring over travel brochures, wondering how to approach her best for some time off.
"The city won't come to a halt if you're not here for a few days," her ever-supportive boss said. "Come on, leave all that. I know something better."
***
I'm going to kill him, Cindy Thomas thought when her colleague walked into the room like he owned the place. Well, for today, he kind of did with that miracle he'd pulled, snatching the story from under her, practically.
She sat at her desk, trying hard not to sulk when thinking about how close she had been, only to find out that his version was ready for print. She knew he had dated one of his sources, an employee at the meat plant that had been shut down for several illegal activities of his owner, but what would it change to bring that up? It would only sound like sour grapes. The grapes did taste pretty sour to her at the moment.
The only thing that could bring up her sullen mood was that in a few minutes, Claire Washburn would arrive and take her out of her misery in favor of a girl's night out. She'd been looking forward to this all day; so a bit of the stress and annoyance left her when she caught sight of her friend standing in the doorway, and she smiled for what seemed the first time today.
"Hey, sweetie. You ready to go?"
Cindy greeted her with a hug. "I so am," she said with a glare at Scott's back. She sighed. The 'club' had been giving her a distinct advantage for the past few months, which was great, but none of them could work magic. She needed to stop being a sore loser.
"Wait, I left my cell phone."
"Expecting any important calls from someone?" Claire asked smiling suggestively, and even though Cindy could positively answer this 'no', the blush still crept to her cheeks. Expecting and hoping for was not necessarily the same thing.
"They're all important, aren't they?"
"Not tonight. I think--"
Claire never finished the sentence as the same moment, a man entered the room, pulling a weapon and firing rapidly. Cindy's earlier careless thoughts came to a horrible reality as her colleague she had lost the story to was hit first.
There were more shots, and she didn't realize she was screaming until Claire firmly placed her hand over Cindy's mouth.
***
They had all worked over Christmas, but managed to get some collective time off for the week after that, a day before New Year's Eve. Probably a good idea not to be in the city by the time of the fireworks. She had noticed Cindy flinch at the sound of a door slamming shut, and while Claire was hiding it better, Lindsay could tell that she was shaken, too. She had the safe space of her family, though. It was what they were going to be for Cindy now, family giving a safe space.
And if Lindsay was really honest, having her friends in one place, for at least a while safe from any possible harm, was the best healing she could find for herself. She wasn't going to fool herself into thinking that it would last forever. They had chosen these jobs and the downsides, the brushes with danger and death that came with it. But everybody deserved a time-out.
The weather forecast had predicted heavy snowfall for the days to come at their chosen destination, and it started lightly on the drive.
At 4 PM, it the sky was already darkening with clouds and dusk alike, so instead of actually staying at the café for a break, they picked up some snacks and beverages to take with them.
"Aren't we there soon?"
Lindsay had to smile at the sight in the rear view mirror. Cindy, all bundled up with the hat nearly covering her eyes, actually looked like twelve at the moment, and the question fit that impression.
"About an hour," she estimated. "I think someone's ready for bed already?"
Claire smiled gently, Jill chuckled to herself.
So many things left unsaid, becoming harder to evade. Moments like this, Lindsay wasn't quite sure that this vacation was a good idea. She couldn't turn back now, though.
***
When sleeping arrangements were discussed, there was more laughter as Jill frowned at Claire, saying, "You're a respectable married woman. Are you really sure you want to share a bed with me?"
No one had asked Lindsay or Cindy, because they just presumed they'd be okay with the inevitable conclusion to Jill and Claire taking one of the rooms.
When the door finally fell shut behind them, Lindsay started putting away clothes, realizing a moment later that Cindy had not even taken off her jacket. "Hey." She steered her friend in the direction of the king-sized bed and made her sit down. "I was serious before. You should lie down for a bit."
She pulled down the zipper of the jacket, taking it off of her. "We can put stuff away later. I'll get down and we'll see what's for dinner, and we wake you in time."
"I'd rather not be alone," Cindy said quietly, her eyes downcast as she got up again.
Lindsay didn't quite know how, but she mustered an encouraging smile. "Okay then. There was a couch in the living room that looked fairly comfortable."
***
The call came in at two-thirty on a gray, rainy day when most people were about to do some Christmas shopping, the streets were packed and an obtrusive holiday cheer greeted you from every store. A typical day in mid-December.
When it was clear the 911 call came from the Register, though, the world tilted on its axis.
Robert Malcolm had been Lindsay's case. In order to maximize the profit of his business, he had severely neglected health regulations for his employees, causing one woman to have a miscarriage. She'd wanted to sue - he had her killed.
His business was ruined though, and when he made bail, he also executed revenge on whom he considered responsible.
She was aware of the look Tom was giving her, and she knew he thought about not letting her go. She couldn't let that happen, could not stay on the sidelines here. "I can handle it," she told him.
"Are you sure?" Lindsay knew he would only ask this once. She nodded.
The drive was made in tense silence. In her mind, she replayed the 911 message, a terrified woman who told them about shoots being fired on the 6th floor. The one where Cindy worked. The caller said that people had been hit.
The hallways were eerily silent, the building in lock down. The fear of the people behind the locked doors, almost palpable.
They had heard him from half a floor down, yelling, rage out of control. Another shot was fired. What chilled her even more, though, was the unexpected sound of Claire's voice, trying to reason with the killer.
"Look, you don't want to kill her. You're mad at the ones who wrote the story about you, granted, but she didn't have anything to do with it. You cannot kill more people."
***
"Look at this!"
She didn't entirely feel at ease yet, but Lindsay allowed a small smile to curve her lips at Jill's happy exclamation at the sight of the hot tub. She turned to Lindsay with a smile. "You know, I feel very forgiving towards Denise all of a sudden. This is perfect, isn't it?"
Her eyes were pleading, her gaze hopeful. Secretly, Lindsay was doubtful if the prolonged weekend out of San Francisco would be enough to just get on with life, but then again, they didn't have a lot of alternatives, and Denise's offer had indeed been a sweet one.
"It's great," she offered. It was. And if she felt a little uncomfortable still, it was that she wasn't used to the silence, not inside, but all around.
If the weather held, they'd be snowed in within a day or two. They had enough supplies stocked not to have to worry about that, but still. The feeling of getting trapped came more easily to her than she'd ever shared with her friends.
Looking over her shoulder, she found Cindy almost asleep on her feet. There hadn't been much time to talk since she had been home from the hospital that day, but it occurred to Lindsay just now that she hadn't only been reluctant to stay alone in their room, but didn't seem to want to go to sleep not even in the safe space of the living room.
"Before we try that though, how about dinner?"
Suddenly, three pairs of eyes turned to Claire, and she held up her hands.
"Ah, come on. Being a mom does not mean you have a cooking gene."
"I don't know about that, obviously." Jill's eyes sparkled with laughter. "But you can't deny your mad cooking skills."
"I can throw something together," Lindsay said. The prospect of having something other to do that stare out into the pitch darkness around the cabin really did appeal to her at the moment.
"Oh, come on." There was a hint of exasperation to Cindy's voice. "You drove all day. I can cook. Jill can help me, and as long as she does what I say, nothing can go wrong."
Lindsay wanted to say something, but Cindy's eyes implored and Claire's warned her not to. She hadn't been aware of her own exhaustion until now; truth was they all were.
"Right," Claire drawled. "Let the young folk do it."
"Who are you calling old?"
Snickering and obviously pleased with the implied compliment, Jill and Cindy headed for the kitchen.
***
After a delicious meal, several glasses of the deep red wine and too long in the hot shower, Lindsay was ready to spend the next eight hours deeply unconscious. She headed out of the bathroom nearly bumping into Cindy, wondering when the room and especially the bed had shrunken in size. There seemed very little space in between them.
Taking in the soft-looking white velveteen pajamas Cindy was wearing, with a butterfly and the words 'Sweet Dreams' embroidered on it, Lindsay felt slightly self-conscious in the simple wear she'd chosen. A completely inappropriate laugh wanted to bubble up inside of her at the thought that she wasn't properly dressed to share a bed with Cindy Thomas.
What had she been thinking anyway?
Neither of them seemed to have words to break the silence that had enveloped them all of a sudden, but those unspoken words rang even more urgently.
"Good night," she murmured finally, slipping under the covers, nearly sighing with relief at finally giving her body a rest. Her hand was on the switch of the lamp already, but Cindy still sat on her side of the bed.
"Come on, you're getting cold."
"I didn't know we were going to share. You know, I -- sleep kind of restless. Lately."
"I've been told I sleep kind of restless all the time, so I guess we're even."
The instant she'd said those words, in a lame attempt to lighten the mood, Lindsay feared that it had really been an invitation to talk about the terror they'd shared, and she'd blown it. How could she have told? Cindy didn't seem to want to talk about it. She'd never made the attempt before.
Maybe, Lindsay told herself, she'd just overreacted, because Cindy smiled and said, "That's good then. Sleep well."
"You too."
And doesn't it mean anything that you laugh at all my bad jokes?
***
The woman lying on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound in her chest, couldn't be more than thirty. Chances were, she had nothing to do with the article, not that it would have given the jerk any right to shoot anyone.
Cindy kneeled beside her, using her jacket to apply pressure. Claire was still trying to talk the shooter down from his crazed state, to no avail.
That was the scenery to which Lindsay had come into the room, yelling at him to put the gun down. Of course, he didn't. Malcolm raised it at himself, but then in a quick motion pointed it back at his hostages, is finger tightening on the trigger.
Lindsay had been faster.
In her mind, Cindy's scream still echoed, as blood splattered her hair and face.
Claire had been frighteningly silent, but when asked, she claimed to be okay. None of them really was, but lucky, considering. Not so Cindy's colleague; she died before the paramedics had a chance to come in.
"She had two small kids," Cindy whispered. She didn't break down crying, but when Lindsay offered her an embrace, she'd held on tight enough to leave light bruises.
***
A sound startled her from a sleep that hadn't been as deep as she had hoped to begin with. The digital clock on the nightstand showed 2:37. Cindy murmured something in her sleep, but showed no signs of waking up.
Reaching for her gun, Lindsay got out of bed, leaving the room and closing the door softly behind her.
She'd check, just in case.
She eased down the stairs making almost no sound as she got closer the the source of the sound. Lindsay caught sight of a shadow.
"Freeze!" she ordered, and a startled Claire dropped the glass she was holding.
"Don't shoot, it's just me!"
On shaky knees that felt like she'd just stepped off a roller-coaster, literally, Lindsay took a step backwards and reached for the light switch.
"Why didn't you turn on a light?" she asked irritably.
"It was light enough with the snow and moonlight outside," Claire defended herself. "Now could you put that away, please?"
It wasn't until then that Lindsay realized that the unexpected sight of a gun was probably most unwelcome for her friend.
"I'm sorry. Couldn't sleep?" she asked softly.
Claire sighed.
"Me either." It wasn't entirely true, but now that Lindsay was awake, she didn't think sleep would come back easily. She still had her troubles with the environment. "Why don't we sit down for a bit?"
They took seats near the fireplace. Outside, it was still snowing.
After a moment of silence, Claire said, "I keep wondering, if there was something more I could have done. Or worse - if I did something wrong."
"If you hadn't kept him talking, he would have killed more people, including you and Cindy." The mere thought was enough to make her choke up. "You did everything right."
Claire looked relieved at that.
***
Later that night, sleep still eluded her, but Lindsay was tired enough for her censors being down, so she could admit all the questions that were on her mind and look at each of them.
How close was she really to the point of no return where affection and attraction melted into one? And if she let it go that far... if they both wanted to let it go that far which was a big 'if' at the moment...
She let herself wonder what she would do with a woman, mortified about these thoughts and fairly amused about being mortified. Feeling like she didn't deserve the absolute trust of the friend who slept, peacefully relaxed, beside her, but having them anyway.
Lindsay remembered talking to Martha over breakfast, about why it was so hard to talk to her human (and wonderful) friends about sex. She was still convinced there was some truth to it. Claire - she would know right away and find out every single thing that was on Lindsay's mind, the notion enough to be panic-inducing. She remembered going from a question why she had done something as innocent as to sit down in the morgue to a full-blown confession about her side-step with Tom.
Jill - she'd probably find out, too, and give some advice. Hold that thought, Lindsay thought wryly. That might be some advice that she could use, though it could get awkward.
Cindy - absolutely, impossibly, no.
***
It was freezing cold outside, so the first day was started by sleeping in until Claire was the first to have mercy and start a fire in the living room. Breakfast was being prepared in a group effort.
It seemed weird, Lindsay reflected, that they'd never done this before, go on a retreat together, after all the secrets, laughter and pain shared. She could, surprisingly, feel this place lifting her spirits, something she hadn't thought possible yesterday. Once you got used to the quiet, it wasn't so bad after all.
She'd almost forgotten how good quiet could feel.
“Why, I'm just talking. Not that I expect you to listen to me.” Cindy gave her a friendly nudge, jolting her out of her reverie.
Aware of three pairs of attentive eyes on her, Lindsay dropped her gaze to her plate quickly. “I'm sorry,” she muttered. At best, she was conflicted. Yesterday, she'd pondered high ideals about being family for Cindy, the perfect safe space, but Lindsay was aware she hadn't been completely honest to herself. It had scared her deeply to have two of her best friends involved in a hostage situation. These women felt more like family to herself than her own ever had; she just couldn't imagine losing either of them.
Although in Cindy's case, there might be additional reasons, the ones that would likely get her into trouble before the vacation was over.
“Linds is still out of it from all the driving,” Jill suggested, gently teasing. “That's what you get for letting none of us drive your car.”
“I'm still adjusting to the climate too,” Claire offered a voice of reason. “This kind of winter is different from what we are used to at home.”
“Try that hot tub today. It's heaven.” Obviously, Jill hadn't been able to wait.
Looking up, Lindsay caught Cindy's smile at her, and for a moment, it wasn't so hard to let go of all potentially complicating factors in their relationship. It was good to be here. They were all going to be alright.
***
In the afternoon, Cindy and Claire went for a walk while Jill and Lindsay opted to stay inside, treating themselves to hot chocolate with rum.
"Ew, it's lukewarm." Lindsay frowned.
Jill chuckled. "That's because you just spiked your rum with hot chocolate. Try it the other way around - or is there something you need the courage for? Wait, there is?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. Look, there's something I'd like to ask you if you don't mind." She could always blame it on the alcohol later, but the opportunity seemed to good to miss.
"I can't tell you if I mind before you ask," Jill pointed out reasonably. "I'm just kidding! Come on, Linds, it can't be that bad."
"It's not actually bad." She smiled, more to herself. Stopped the moment she realized she actually had to say it out loud, or this would get her nowhere. "You have dated women, right?"
At that, Jill gave her a knowing smile. Damn it, she was just as bad as Claire. Lindsay glanced at the clock over the fireplace, slightly assured that Claire and Cindy wouldn't be back for at least another hour.
"That's all you need to ease your mind?" Jill asked teasingly. "Sure I have."
"So...?"
"So, what?"
Lindsay sighed. This would be easier if she'd known where to start in the first place, and if Jill didn't make her work so hard for it. “Hey, I'm the one asking you.”
“Well, I guess it depends if you're merely a little bi-curious or truly madly deeply in love with that person,” Jill said cheerfully, nearly making Lindsay choke on the sip she'd just taken. “Okay. That's what I thought. I take it you haven't talked to Cindy yet?”
Lindsay knew that the alarm was showing on her face. “Who said anything about Cindy?”
“You do? Linds.” Jill gave her an indulgent, affectionate smile. “You do it every time you just look at her.”
“I do? I don't. C'mon, I know you're just yanking my chain here.” Lindsay half hoped that it was the case, as she realized she was all but ready to have the truth out in the open. Especially here, being snowed in with Cindy and their curious friends, having nowhere to go--
“I'm not sure... I know... what to do,” she confessed, her face burning now. Damn that rum.
“It's not that hard,” Jill assured her. “Wait. Promise me you won't freak, okay?” Could be that she had had the same concoction of mostly rum with a token amount of chocolate in it, because her method seemed rather unconventional to Lindsay. Not waiting for an answer, Jill simply leaned forward and kissed her.
She was just beginning to realize that maybe Jill was right and she could do this after all when the sound of footsteps alerted them to the presence of their friends. Lindsay jerked back, but she could tell from the look on Cindy's face that it was too late.
“Look,” Jill said calmly, “It's not what you think.”
“Whatever,” Cindy said curtly. “I'm sorry to interrupt.” With those words, she all but fled from the room.
“If it's not what I think,” Claire asked slightly admonishing, “What the hell is going on?”
Jill smiled a little sheepishly while Lindsay decided that this was a good moment to intently study the carpet pattern.
She'd known this confession would get her into trouble, one way or another.
***
Cindy was back in time for dinner, but she looked kind of sullen and only spoke when she was asked a direct question. As they were clearing the table, Jill announced, “Cindy and I will be going for a walk.”
“What?” Lindsay frowned at the suggestion. “It's dark outside. Your sense of direction is questionable at best.”
“Don't insult me. We'll manage a few steps around the house,” Jill said confidently. Lindsay opened her mouth to add something, but Claire laid a hand on her arm. “I'm sure they will. You and I will manage the dishes in the meantime.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes but followed Claire into the kitchen without any protest save for a few words muttered under her breath.
Cindy looked indecisive. “Let's go,” Jill prompted. “You can throw a snowball at me if you want to.”
She hadn't missed that Cindy had to stifle a smile at the suggestion.
***
They walked several minutes in the quiet cold outside, both of them silent. Jill, because she knew what she wanted to say, and she knew that Cindy was working up either an accusation or an apology.
Eventually, she sighed. “ I just didn't know, okay?”
“Cindy,” Jill said gently. “There is nothing to know. Lindsay and I got plastered and a little silly.
We're friends. Platonic best friends.”
“That looked very platonic to me,” Cindy muttered.
“Okay, that's it. Lindsay's gonna kill me, but you've got the cuter pout and I'm not going to spend the rest of the weekend with you looking like I ran over your puppy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Cindy still wasn't looking at her, but she sounded more amused than angry. It was a start.
“Do you really have no idea that Lindsay's head over heels for you?”
Cindy's reaction was a tiny gasp. “That's why she's been kissing you. I can see how that makes sense.”
“She's uncertain... about her feelings, and yours. Not to mention the rum. But I can assure you, the talk was all about you.”
“And that's supposed to reassure me?” Finally, Cindy looked at her, a hopeful little smile on her face.
“It should. I'm certainly not the one standing in the way of a beautiful happy ending here.” With a wink to her friend, Jill continued, “You guys got two more nights of sleeping in the same bed. You better make use of the opportunity.”
Startled, she realized that Cindy's eyes were suddenly very bright. “I don't know, it all seems too much at the moment. I'm trying so hard to forget... but I can't. I just.”
“It's gonna take some time.” Not wanting to scramble for any more platitudes, Jill simply opened her arms and embraced Cindy. “You know I've learned that when bad things happen, it doesn't mean you don't deserve to be happy. You keep waiting for your moment and it just never comes because there's so much shit out there.” After that, she just stayed silent and let Cindy cry.
***
Cindy was quiet, but at least she didn't seem to be mad anymore, Lindsay reflected when they later said goodnight once more. Just very thoughtful. She wondered what Jill had told her outside, and if she'd ever find a way out of this mess. Real life wasn't like the movies when a close call immediately made people rethink their lives, second chances and happy endings.
And what was she fantasizing about anyway?
Jill had gotten her hopes up way too high, and that didn't make it easier to stand the silence that settled between them right after they'd turned off the light.
She listened to Cindy's breathing deepen, sliding into a shallow uncomfortable sleep herself.
The scream jolted her out of it, her first impulse to reach for the gun. A split-second later, Lindsay realized that it wasn't the kind of situation to be resolved with a firearm. She could have just as well shared the imagery of Cindy's nightmare, that little time it took her to be right back into it.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You awake?”
“Yes. And so are you. I'm sorry,” Cindy whispered back, her voice sounding choked.
“It's okay.” It was really not, but if some non-sensical phrases helped, then so be it. “You want to... talk about it?”
Cindy gave a heart-wrenching sigh. “Not really.”
As the silence stretched, seconds and then minutes, Lindsay wondered if this was the moment to carefully test Jill's theory. This was a special situation. She could back out later if she needed to, right?
She drew the covers a bit higher and then, slowly, laid her arm around Cindy's waist. It seemed like the natural thing to do, and to her relief, Cindy relaxed against her immediately. “That's okay. Try to go back to sleep then?”
“You don't have to do that.”
“It's what friends do,” Lindsay said, and then wanted to slap herself. Her thoughts in the past couple of days had become all but friend-ly. It wasn't the right time, obviously.
“Friends.”
“Very good friends.” Lindsay wished she'd had the courage to go just that one tiny step further. Maybe tomorrow.
It was snowing heavily, the night sky illuminated by the infinite number of tiny crystals falling endlessly, every sound swallowed by a heavy white blanket. As a child, twenty-five years ago and then some, Lindsay Boxer had thought of nights like this, especially around Christmas, as magic.
There was no magic in the present day. And yet, tonight, as she lay awake, with the woman sleeping in her arms, the memory of a safer time was comforting and haunting alike.
***
Claire softly closed the door again after finding both occupants of the room fast asleep still. She turned to Jill who wore a mischievous, knowing grin, shaking her head.
“I have to say that your methods, though unorthodox, work quite well. It doesn't look like they'll be up - for anything - anytime soon, so let's have breakfast.”
When Jill's hand went for the doorknob, Claire gave her a stern look. “Don't. They really need their rest now.”
Jill sighed. “I suppose the same goes for you. How are you holding up?”
Claire smiled wistfully as they turned from the door and walked towards the kitchen.
“Still wanting to believe in happy endings,” she said.
***
By the time Lindsay woke up, Cindy was already gone, and she could tell by the chatter from the kitchen that she'd be the last one to be up. She showered and dressed quickly, finding her friends over a generous brunch type of breakfast.
“Good morning,” she said, and Cindy turned to her with a smile, making Lindsay halt in her step. Because maybe for the first time, she allowed herself to look past the tiredness and the dark circles under Cindy's eyes that told of many sleepless nights. What she saw, seemed to good to believe.
***
Cindy looked up from the book she was reading when Lindsay entered the room. She had to be feeling safer now, Lindsay reflected, staying all by herself after they'd stocked up the wood next to the fireplace.
Jill had announced that she'd retreat to the hot tub with her own paperback, and Claire had wanted to give it a try as well. Which left the two of them with some time and space, Lindsay thought, her face heating. Maybe she should simply take a nap. Or a cold shower. She shivered at the thought, wincing as a muscle in her shoulder cramped, reminding her of the morning's workout. Wuss, she told herself. That's how much you're used to the great outdoors.
Cindy regarded her over the rim of her glasses. “You okay?”
“Sure. I just might try that hot tub later, too.” Rather indecisive, Lindsay sat down on the edge of the bed, then pulled up her legs. Cindy laid her book aside and gave her another of those attentive looks. “Or I could give you a massage.”
“What?” Lindsay took an unsteady breath, the mere idea leaving her with a feeling somewhere in between being terrified and an anticipation going way too far. Cindy, however, was just warming to the idea.
“I'm actually pretty good at this,” she said confidently. “Take off your shirt, turn around - and leave the rest to me.” She couldn't tell Cindy no. When had she ever?
“And don't be so scared. I had a source once who worked in a massage parlor."
Lindsay threw her a doubtful gaze over her shoulder. "Do I want to know?"
"Probably not. I can assure you though that since those days, she got some diplomas and now works for a physiotherapist. She taught me a lot, though. Um, you gonna take that off too?"
Lindsay flinched as Cindy touched the strap of her bra.
"Are my hands too cold?" Cindy asked worriedly.
"It's fine." No, definitely not. They are perfect. Hastily, Lindsay discarded the piece of clothing and laid down on her stomach, nearly holding her breath as she waited for the touch, then again when it came.
"My, you're jumpy," Cindy said with a hint of amusement. "Relax, this is supposed to feel good."
That's what I'm afraid of... "I'm trying," Lindsay mumbled, pressing her flushed face into the pillow.
With a gentle touch, Cindy moved her hair to the side to bare her neck and shoulders. "Okay, so I hadn't really planned to use this here, but... never mind. Good that I brought it."
The sound of a bottle being opened preceded the faint scent of vanilla and honey in the air. Cindy's hands came back warm and slick, moving over her body confidently, melting the tension out of it. They went from her neck down to really low on her lower back, and with a sigh, Lindsay closed her eyes, trying to stifle a moan.
As if reading her thoughts, Cindy leaned over her, whispered, "It's okay. Let go."
Jesus.
"You are really good at this," she acknowledged, wondering if the mix of emotions was just as obvious to Cindy from the sound of her voice as it was to her. Confusion. Want. Guilt. She couldn't decide on one.
"Thanks."
Cindy worked in silence then, and it seemed only minutes until her hands stopped and she said, "All relaxed now, aren't you?"
It took Lindsay a while to muster the willpower to get up and reach for her bra. "I am. Thank you. That was amazing."
She reached behind her back to fasten the clasp. Her hands were shaking.
"Should I help you with that?"
Cindy didn't wait for an answer, but moved in close again. Slowly, she ran one hand down the length of Lindsay's back, then her hands moved up to her shoulders, drawing the straps from her shoulders like in slow motion, making sure permission was granted.
Then, tentatively, the hands moved around to cup her breasts.
Lindsay could practically feel Cindy's nervousness, the fear of rejection.
"That's not going to help me get dressed..."
"Do you mind?"
"No."
She turned around to allow her lips to meet Cindy's, to end all questions. There was no hesitation any longer.
"You must think I'm so easy," Cindy said worriedly, which was kind of funny since she still had a lot more clothes on her.
"No way. Now, I might have thought that when I put the cuffs on you the second time we met and you really seemed to like it."
"I did not," Cindy protested with indignation. "I was terrified."
"You were not."
"Was too."
Lindsay laughed before drawing her close again. "You were so not, but that's okay. Scaring you was the last thing on my mind."
"I've always felt safe with you," Cindy whispered and closed the space between them again.
They made love to the last rays of the afternoon sun, the fact that they weren't alone in the house or hadn't locked the door for that matter, only a fleeting thought.
***
Lazily, Lindsay thought that if the weather held, there was no that that they'd get out of here in time. With Cindy gloriously naked in her arms, she didn't mind at all. They wouldn't be running short on any supplies until in a week, so she was not in a hurry. Time had slowed down to a pleasant pace.
“What are you thinking?” Cindy asked the predictable question. Lindsay smiled, running her hand down Cindy's arm. “Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly.”
The hint of impatience made her smile grow wider. “I'm thinking I want to stay here forever.” She winced at how corny that sounded, but Cindy didn't seem to mind.
“That sounds awesome. Well, I think I'll want to have dinner at some point, but...” she said teasingly.
Laughing, Lindsay pulled her close again, and Cindy settled into her arms.
Outside, the snow continued to fall while they fell silent, on the verge of sleep, content in each other's company.
Maybe there was magic even in the present day after all.