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: Betad by mercurychkita & bcharmer23. Thank you!
CHALLENGE: Written for the first International Day of Femslash.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"You will always go back to her." It was stated matter-of-factly. There was no regret, jealousy or even a question as Cindy put on the dress she'd tossed aside carelessly last night.
"Yes." It was almost a whisper. No argument when it was so blatantly the truth.
"And she will always take you back, because she knows that... no one means as much to you as she does."
This time, it was a shrug and a smile that held a trace of mortification.
Cindy smiled back, driving the pain further away so it wouldn't show, as always pretending that it wouldn't cut right through her and making her wonder why there wasn't a gaping wound left. "Thank you," she said, and that was honest. "It was worth it - like always."
The smile deepened. "You give me way too much credit."
That's because I love you! Ever think about that?
The flash of anger vanished as fast as it had come. Cindy sat down on the side of the bed for her goodbye kiss, an embrace, a few calculated touches that seemed to melt the fabric of her dress away. Her hands, greedily, caressing bare skin. Shoulders, back, a little tug on the sheet...
"I need to go. See you tonight?" It was pure self-protection. She was a heartbeat away from letting reality crumble for just one more fix of this addiction of hers.
"Sure. At eight." There was some hesitation, but the words Cindy craved to hear would never come. Instead it was a last, deep, lingering kiss.
She'd make it through. The hardest part would be tonight, to have the other woman's gaze on her, not hate, not pity, but genuine concern for her. It was what Cindy found most upsetting, but not enough to stop. Not ever.
Cindy got up, turned around once more and waved, then she left, the memory of Lindsay's touch once again burned into her mind. She would have to make do with the memory for a while, and live with Jill's concerned gazes.
It was nothing new.
When Cindy had reached her car, she just sat inside, waiting for the tears to come. And that was familiar, too.
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