Fic: Allies (Women's Murder Club/Chase crossover)
Title: Allies
Author: Demeter
Fandom: Women's Murder Club/Chase
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Summary: When Lindsay wakes up to a nightmare, at least she's not alone.
A/N: I need to stop doing this. Develop some discipline. I love this community, but I think I need to leave it for a little while in order to achieve that, so consider this a parting gift ;)
Word Count: 250
On another little note, I don't usually do things like that, but I will be a little more reclusive with original fic in the future. If you're still interested in stories like The Definition Of Freedom, it'll mostly be at barb74, & locked.
Other than that, have a nice day! :)
Allies
By Demeter
“Inspector Boxer? I’m US Marshal Annie Frost. Can you answer me a few questions about what happened in the bar?”
Lindsay struggled to keep her eyes open and jog her memory through the haze of pain medication. The situation felt surreal, the woman by her bedside with the gun and badge, her voice soft, but urging. It felt wrong. Usually, Lindsay would be on the other side of this deal. US Marshal... Frost... bar...
As the memory slammed into her brain, her heart started racing. Her attempt to sit up merely resulted in some tiny movement of her fingers. “Cindy...”
The uncertainty was suffocating.
The marshal’s expression looked grim for a moment. Determined. There was a familiarity. “I believe that she’s still alive,” she said, and Lindsay took the fraction of a breath. It was everything. It was not enough. Sleep was like a heavy weight pulling at her. The woman’s voice, her accent familiar and comforting felt like a lullaby. She couldn’t resist much longer.
It seemed to take forever to string together a few sentences to decribe the events that had gotten her here.
Lindsay felt slightly embarrassed by the tears hot on her face. However, Annie Frost seemed to get the unspoken message anyway. “I’ll find him - and I’ll bring her back. Alive,” she promised with an undeniable certainty.
She squeezed Lindsay’s fingers gently before she got up to leave, to get the job done. In the worst nightmare, there was a tiny ray of hope now.
Author: Demeter
Fandom: Women's Murder Club/Chase
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Summary: When Lindsay wakes up to a nightmare, at least she's not alone.
A/N: I need to stop doing this. Develop some discipline. I love this community, but I think I need to leave it for a little while in order to achieve that, so consider this a parting gift ;)
Word Count: 250
On another little note, I don't usually do things like that, but I will be a little more reclusive with original fic in the future. If you're still interested in stories like The Definition Of Freedom, it'll mostly be at barb74, & locked.
Other than that, have a nice day! :)
Allies
By Demeter
“Inspector Boxer? I’m US Marshal Annie Frost. Can you answer me a few questions about what happened in the bar?”
Lindsay struggled to keep her eyes open and jog her memory through the haze of pain medication. The situation felt surreal, the woman by her bedside with the gun and badge, her voice soft, but urging. It felt wrong. Usually, Lindsay would be on the other side of this deal. US Marshal... Frost... bar...
As the memory slammed into her brain, her heart started racing. Her attempt to sit up merely resulted in some tiny movement of her fingers. “Cindy...”
The uncertainty was suffocating.
The marshal’s expression looked grim for a moment. Determined. There was a familiarity. “I believe that she’s still alive,” she said, and Lindsay took the fraction of a breath. It was everything. It was not enough. Sleep was like a heavy weight pulling at her. The woman’s voice, her accent familiar and comforting felt like a lullaby. She couldn’t resist much longer.
It seemed to take forever to string together a few sentences to decribe the events that had gotten her here.
Lindsay felt slightly embarrassed by the tears hot on her face. However, Annie Frost seemed to get the unspoken message anyway. “I’ll find him - and I’ll bring her back. Alive,” she promised with an undeniable certainty.
She squeezed Lindsay’s fingers gently before she got up to leave, to get the job done. In the worst nightmare, there was a tiny ray of hope now.