DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SEQUEL: To Implications.

By Demeter


Cindy tries hard to follow the conversation, but isn't entirely succeeding. If Lindsay hadn't reminded her, like, twenty minutes ago, she would have completely forgotten that they were supposed to meet Jill and Claire for brunch this Saturday.

Now they're sharing knowing smirk, and Lindsay, who's wearing a knowing smirk on her own, caresses Cindy's thigh under the table, making her catch her breath.

She is nervous, and she thinks it shows. Damn Lindsay who is usually all about the rules, but hasn't given Cindy any idea about how she wants to play this so far. Was this a one-time thing, a secret that they're going to share from now on? Cindy hopes not. She wants... not exactly the world to know, but not having to hide from their friends would really help.

Reaching for the juice, she almost knocks over her coffee mug, but Lindsay catches it in time, steadies it, all the while holding on to Cindy's hand decidedly longer than necessary. She also gives a reassuring smile.

She can tell from Lindsay's body language, the way she's leaning back in the booth now, that she's managed to unwind. Cindy has learned from the beginning that Lindsay hardly ever lets down her guard, it's rare to catch those moments when she does. Like now.

Like last night.

Cindy can't not smile thinking about it, the touches, the kisses, and the laughter. Lying in each others' arms, no boundaries. Oh yes, she wants that again.

She has missed part of the conversation again.

"... has made her very happy last night," Claire assumes.

Jill agrees. "Yes, but who?"

Cindy studies her plate intently, while Lindsay shakes her head in mock exasperation. "You guys are impossible."

"We're also your best friends, and you know best friends don't have secrets from each other. Hell, you bought me lingerie, which means you know my underwear size... I feel like I deserve to know."

Thank God Lindsay had told her about the gift she'd given Claire a while ago, or it would have been easy to misunderstand...

"Okay, if you must know!" Lindsay holds up her hands as if to ward off further innuendo. "Here's the truth. The person is young and gorgeous--"

Claire and Jill both grin while Cindy chokes on her sip of coffee, her face feeling hot. Lindsay pats her on the back, not missing a beat in her narrative, "-- and yes, I am happy. Very. Happy. That's it."

She just said... happy.

"Is that true?" Cindy asks breathlessly. There's a certain suspense, and for a moment, she thinks Lindsay will kiss her right here at the table. She doesn't, of course not, but she rests her arm on top of the booth so she's nearly embracing Cindy.

"Seems like we need a couple of new rules. No need to interrogate the suspect when the verdict is so obvious."

Claire and Jill raise their glasses, all smiles, saying "To new rules." in unison.

It wasn't all that hard anyway, Cindy thinks, smiling too, and she finally relaxes.

The End

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