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: Betaed by mercurychkita and bcharmer23. Inspired by a t-shirt that says: 'Oranges are my favorite fruit'. Just for fun.
CHALLENGE: Written for the first International Day of Femslash.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Cindy shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
Lindsay seemed oblivious, as she calmly went about what she was doing, peeling the orange with the knife, making neat slices before she removed the skin and enjoyed them.
Cindy stifled a gasp. There was something dangerously symbolic about this. And given the fact that she already felt faintly feverish, it would have been a big mistake to go and translate it into -- no.
Licking the juice from her fingers, Lindsay smiled at her. "Want one? They're really fresh."
I don't doubt that for a minute. Cindy shook hear head. "Thanks," she said weakly, pressing her legs together. Her body had developed a mind of its own, tormenting her with sensations that betrayed the notion of a quiet summer afternoon with a friend. "Just friends," she mumbled.
"Nothing," Cindy said, blushing when Lindsay turned the full laser vision on her, laced with a hint of amusement.
"I really like oranges. Sure you don't want to give it a try? You don't know what you're missing."
"Um, I don' t know..." Cindy found that the knowledge that they had stopped talking about fruit was seriously melting her brain. She couldn't seem to form words.
But when Lindsay leaned over to place a sticky-sweet kiss on her lips, her brain worked perfectly again. She was to taste some more. After all, having some fruit daily was good for you.
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