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.
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In The Morning You Can Tell Me Your Dreams
By Demeter
"Jerk," Lindsay had grumbled. "I could have changed that damn tire if the rental company had bothered to provide us with one."
"We could have checked that before," Cindy had suggested, regretting her words immediately. Just a little over fifty miles out of San Francisco, she was afraid that her seemingly brilliant idea was about to blow. There wasn't a lot of sightseeing to be done around here, or the long lonely roads she had dreamed of. In any case, Lindsay hadn't taken well to the mechanic's joke regarding chicks and cars. This town wasn't where they had planned to spend the first night either.
"I pay for dinner," she offered, intent on making peace even though it wasn't really her Lindsay was mad at. At least, Cindy hoped that.
"That is, if we find a place that's open in this Godforsaken town."
"I'm sure we will." Cindy forced a smile. "How about we look for a place to stay first?"
It turned out that the Godforsaken town was actually holding some kind of medical conference, and the only hotel that could offer them a room had only one single left. While Cindy could easily admit to herself that sharing lonely roads with Lindsay hadn't been the only thing she'd been dreaming of, the present reality seemed more like a nightmare.
The twenty-something clerk smirked at them. "If you want it, breakfast's for free."
Trying to ignore all the implications on her mind as well as on his, probably, Cindy said, "I'm so sorry – and I'd really understand if you wanted to—" Go home. But, please, don't.
To her surprise, Lindsay simply shrugged and said, "We're taking it. Unless you can think of something else." She turned a questioning gaze on Cindy who, all of a sudden, had a hard time coming up with words.
"I don't mind sharing a bed with you," Lindsay added, the clerk's face turning bright red. Cindy thought she might be bright red, too. "Cindy."
"Oh. Sure. It's fine."
There was an Italian restaurant across the street where they found themselves a nice quiet window table. Lindsay surprisingly mellowed further over dinner and red wine. Cindy wasn't that relaxed yet. Of course she had spent several weeks planning and anticipating, let alone plotting routes and a book. Obviously that hadn't prepared her for Lindsay Boxer's undivided attention.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "We've had other plans for the first night." Even as innocent as those words had been supposed to be, she blushed hotly.
"It's okay." Lindsay smiled. "You know I kind of like this."
Cindy perked up at that. 'Kind of' was a start. "Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously. You know, I've been thinking about... this." She hesitated, and Cindy was aware that she was about to hear something Lindsay didn't share with just anyone. "Just getting away from it all, but of course you never do it, because something always comes up. So... I guess what I'm meaning to say is, thank you."
"You're welcome, but... um, we're not really very far away from home," Cindy reminded her.
"True, but in a way, it seems like that... Anyway, I hope you're not planning to put that embarrassing story about the tire into your book. I can change a tire."
"I never doubted that." Starting on the second glass of wine, Cindy was finally less anxious whether something she said could be interpreted in too many different ways. Leaning back into the booth, she finally acknowleged that, small mishaps aside, it was really happening. Here they were, together, on the road. A small part of that road, granted, but there was so much more to come. Four weeks. It was like nothing she could have ever imagined when her main goal had been to get into 'the club'.
The clerk handed them the key with the same smirk. Cindy didn't want to know what was on his mind, especially when they were back in the room they had only briefly looked at before.
"It is really small," she said with regard to the bed. "I have a sleeping bag... I can spend one night on the floor..."
"No way." Lindsay was rummaging through her things, oblivious to Cindy's struggle. "Nobody's gonna sleep on the floor. Just don't steal the covers and we'll be fine."
She was probably right about that, Cindy reflected as she sat at the small desk, going through her notes and the first pictures she'd taken, mostly the sunrise on their way out of San Francisco. She could feel it. Still, Cindy could only acknowledge a little bit of that happiness at a time. If was safer that way. She closed her notebook after a few more words, checked her emails on the laptop. Jill was asking if they were okay. There were several ways to interpret that question, too.
"Shower's all yours," Lindsay announced. Lost in thought as she'd been, Cindy jumped a little, turning around to... Stare. Lindsay was wearing a white tank top and gray shorts, revealing legs longer than any woman had the right to own. Painted toenails. A few moments later, Cindy became aware of what she was doing, and judging from Lindsay's amused smile, she was aware of it, too.
"Great. Thanks. Be right back." Cindy jumped up to quickly cross the space to the bathroom and lock herself in, only to realize that she'd have to walk out naked if she didn't go back out to get something to wear for the night. Calm down. Take a deep breath. She was going to get used to this. She smiled at the girly strawberry fragrance that was still in the air. She was going to get a lot of new information. Cindy loved information. Even more so when it meant learning new things about Lindsay.
There wasn't a lot of space, that much was true. Lindsay had waited for her, and Cindy, eager to have darkness cover up her blush – she had to stop that, damn it - got under the covers quickly.
"Good night," Lindsay said before switching off the lamp on the nightstand.
Cindy took a deep breath. "Yeah. Good night. To better luck tomorrow."
"Oh, I don't know about that. It wasn't all that bad."
A few moments ticked by. "I'm glad you still want to do this with me," Cindy ventured then, careful not to move too much. Not that she could have, with the wall to her right, and to the left – Lindsay.
"Don't worry so much. We got a free breakfast out of this anyway."
"True."
Silence settled again. Cindy found she was wide awake, still somewhat nervous, and ridiculously happy. She marveled at the irony of this situation, of the type beware of your dreams, they could come true. Lindsay seemed miraculously at ease; she'd drifted off into a restful sleep minutes ago. Cindy knew she should try to do the same as they wanted an early start tomorrow, easier said than done though. Maybe she should try counting sheep...
Cindy jumped when Lindsay, obviously having forgotten she wasn't alone in the bed, turned, getting much closer than planned. At least that was what Cindy rationalized.
"Whoa, sorry," Lindsay murmured and made some distance again before Cindy had time to acknowledge the sensation of soft skin against hers.
"It's fine," Cindy said, and she couldn't have been more genuine. Or giddy. "Sleep well."
She turned around to find her smiling and reached out to trace that smile with a finger, happy, excited. Sinking her hands into soft red hair, she finally kissed her like she'd wanted to for a long time. Not a lot of clothes between them... The sheet slid to the floor, and she pulled her closer, one hand down her back and further...
The sound that startled Lindsay awake had her upright in bed, her heart pounding. Some loudly debating folks, obviously not entirely sober, returning to their room. The space next to her was empty, but still warm, and the cover... She felt her face heat. On the floor. Lindsay hoped that Cindy would stay in the bathroom a little while longer, just so she'd have the chance to get her bearings.
It wasn't such a big shock after all. Long before Kiss-Me-Not was caught and her life went back to something akin to normal, Lindsay had come a a few conclusions. She just couldn't see herself once more with a man whose worry for her interfered with the job she had to do. Someone who didn't get her. If she ever was to be in a relationship again, it would have to be someone like Cindy. Cindy worried all right, but she was also ever supportive. Sometimes her support would go into alleys way to dangerous for Lindsay's comfort, but she couldn't deny that this was something they had in common: They didn't back down.
Would a woman really make a difference, Lindsay wasn't sure at this point if that was what her subconcious was trying to tell her. Or maybe just the sum of her life experiences.
In any case, this hadn't been the first time she'd dreamed about kissing Cindy.
The End