DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. Rizzoli & Isles and its characters are the property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT television network. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To Demeter94[at]yahoo.de
SERIES: In Deep Series

By Demeter


She kissed her lips, her neck, savoring the close contact, warm skin under her fingertips, then she pulled her close into her arms.

Cindy sighed contentedly. Stroking her hair, Lindsay thought that she'd never felt safer in her whole life. "I love you," she whispered.

It had been turbulences that had jolted her awake. Outside of the small window, there was nothing to be seen except blackness.

"Bad dreams?"

Lindsay just shrugged. Maura had been right; they had found another ally, most important, with contacts. She'd come to respect Agent Gabriel Dean when they had worked on Hoyt's case together, even like him. He reminded her of Tom in many ways. And she knew he might be a little disappointed about the relvations made, but she just couldn't ignore lessons learned about herself lately.

She couldn't make it with a good man; that didn't have to mean she was incapable of close relationships. When one door closes, another always opens. Lindsay just hoped she wasn't too late to understand what Cindy had really meant that night.

"I just hope the mole will really lead us to her," she said, successfully evading the subject.

Dean didn't prod. "I'm sure," he answered, and it didn't sound like he was simply humoring her.

Silence fell again. Lindsay was grateful that he cared for mindless conversation as little as she did; there was no mistaking the reason why they were on this plane. No denying how much of a mess this job had become.

The images sent to the SFPD once again flashed on her mind. Lindsay wanted to cry; anger at who was responsible, at herself for failing to prevent this from happening. Fear for Cindy.

She choked back the tears out of habit; that was at least something she was good at.

Their whispered conversation was winding down until she fell asleep in Lindsay's arms, warm and safe.

When the door fell closed, Cindy cringed but kept her eyes shut, for all the good pretending would do for her. If she could buy a few minutes, it would be worth it.

It was somewhat amazing that in her dreams, her mind could still find a place that was pain-free and safe. She was holding on. She had to, because the people who had done this wouldn't try and blackmail a woman they knew to be dead.

Lindsay was out there.

The End

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