DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the passion_perfect WMC Three Fic Challenge.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"You're asking me out on a date?" Jill asked, obviously highly amused by the idea.
Cindy groaned, but couldn't hide the flush that rose in her cheeks. She fiddled with a paperweight on Jill's desk.
"It's not a date. I have an informant who gave me a lead on the spate of attacks on gay people over the last couple of months. I've narrowed the source of the attacks down to one bar and I'd like to check it out."
"And you want me to be your date?"
"I want you to come with me so that I don't get hit on and I'm free to dig around."
"I see, so you're so irresistible to women that you'd be fighting them off with a stick and would have no time to do your reporter shtick, is that it?"
"Something like that," Cindy muttered, regretting bringing the subject up in the first place.
Jill leaned forward, putting her elbows on her desk.
"So how come you're asking me? I would've thought that Lindsay would be your first port of call if you ever needed an emergency pretend girlfriend Oh, and by the way, she'll kill both of us if she ever finds out we did this.."
Cindy's eyes went wide.
"Lin- I well I no."
"Why not?" Jill pressed, leaning closer, her voice becoming lower.
"Because Lindsay's a cop and would insist on taking over the investigation and she'd bring up stuff about the law," Cindy babbled.
"And I, being a lawyer, am totally indifferent to the law?"
"No! No, it's not that. It's "
"What?" Jill asked, eyes dancing with glee at Cindy's discomfort.
"Lindsay makes me nervous, OK? She's so intense and driven and focussed and I feel like a silly little kid around her," Cindy finally blurted out, surprising both herself and Jill.
Jill sat back in her chair, regarding Cindy strangely.
"Oh cuz I kinda thought you had a little crush on the good inspector. You're always running after her like a puppy-dog."
"That would be me trying to prove that I'm not a little kid and that I am good at what I do," Cindy explained, still blushing from her confession.
"Oh OK," Jill said, still a little taken aback.
Cindy decided that she'd be as well to be hung for a sheep as a lamb and plunged into another confession.
"But I've always kinda thought that you'd be fun if I ever got to see you outside the," she made quotations marks with her fingers, "'club.'"
Jill smiled slowly.
"Well, I guess you'll find out tonight, Cindy-Sue."
The music in the bar was unobtrusive, middle of the road type stuff. Cindy hummed along to the song playing as she stretched onto her tip-toes, trying to get the attention of the bar-tender. She sighed in frustration as he served someone else. Then a body pressed against the length of her back, an arm snaking around her waist.
"Having some trouble, honey?" Jill whispered in her ear.
"Yeah," Cindy said, thinking that she was having a lot more trouble since Jill started touching her than she was having before.
Jill was still wrapped around her, and had rested her chin on Cindy's shoulder. It was distracting, to say the least. The next time the bar-tender looked up, Jill caught his eye.
"Two Jack and Cokes."
Cindy turned around as best she could with Jill in such close proximity.
"I wanted a vo-"
"You're getting Jack and Coke."
Cindy shrugged. She was getting a Jack and Coke. Jill handed her a twenty.
"Here. Pay the man. I have to go to the restroom."
Cindy paid for the drinks and stayed by the bar, stirring her own drink listlessly. She surveyed the room from her vantage point, wondering where to start questioning. A body drew in close to her side. She turned, it wasn't Jill. It was a rather large woman with short, black hair. And a tattoo on her neck.
"Hey there, Red. You lookin' for some company?"
Cindy tried to think of a non-insulting rejection but was saved by the sound of Jill's voice coming from behind her.
"Hey baby, sorry I took so long."
Cindy spun around just in time to end up in Jill's arms. And then Cindy's world spun off its axis.
Jill kissed her.
Not a chaste, between friends, on the cheek kiss. Oh no, this was a proper knee-trembling, mouth-bruising, tongue-twisting, put-fire-in-your-belly kiss. Cindy felt her body go limp against the taller woman, submitting to her completely.
When Jill finally pulled away, Cindy's suitor had gone. Cindy was panting embarrassingly hard and was still clinging to Jill for fear of falling. Jill smiled down at her, breathing heavily herself.
"So d'you still wanna do your reporter thing?" she asked, huskily.
"No. I want you to kiss me again," Cindy answered immediately and without embarrassment.
"But what about the Bay Area Gay Basher?" she asked, moving in closer, but stopping short of Cindy's lips.
And with that, Cindy put a hand behind Jill's neck and crashed their lips together. This time when they parted, it was Jill who was more than a little flustered.
"You wanna go back to my place?" Cindy asked, eyes huge and dark in the dim light of the bar.
Jill made a noise which contained a lot of vowel sounds, but no consonants. Cindy took it to be an affirmative. Without further thought, Cindy grabbed Jill's hand, turned around and marched both of them out of the bar to hail a cab.
Despite making no progress whatsoever on the gay-bashing case, Jill and Cindy did spend the night engaged in activities which they never fully explained to Lindsay. Cindy even managed not to cave under interrogation in Papa Joe's regarding a rather suspect blemish on her neck. It helped that Jill happened to be running her foot up and down Cindy's calf at the time, rendering Lindsay's laser-vision virtually impotent.
Of course, they were only able to keep their secret for so long. Lindsay had an awful habit of barging into Jill's office unannounced.
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