DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. Dollhouse belongs to Joss Whedon and Fox. No infringement intended.
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Dreams In The Mist
"My parents have never been apart for more than a couple of weeks. Somehow I find that scary," Cindy admits. "To depend on another person that much."
Somehow, Lindsay wants to jump up and shake her, yell at her, "What the hell is wrong with that concept?" She leaves it at the fantasy, knowing they are watching her closely, waiting for her to come apart at the seams. Which she is, thread by thread.
Jill feigns a shudder in agreement to Cindy's statement, Claire is rolling her eyes at both of them. It's almost a usual Saturday morning, hanging out with the girls for brunch, sharing process on their cases and friendly banter.
Today is all but usual, though. Today, Cindy is going to leave for Los Angeles.
Lindsay remembers how she and Tom tried to spend as much time together as possible during their marriage, the early, happier years, before Kiss Me Not came between them. Their jobs' schedules didn't exactly leave them a lot of options, but they'd done okay working around them.
Giving each other space is overrated in Lindsay's opinion. She is scared of emptiness. She has seen it.
But Cindy is all ready and excited about her big assignment, and Jill and Claire are happy for her. It makes Lindsay feel even worse, as if it's her fault that her worries take up a bigger space than being happy for the woman she loves. Lindsay herself rarely makes comprimises when it comes to the job. She should be the first to understand, right?
"While it scares me, I can understand the feeling," Cindy continues. "To want to be with a person all of the time. This is great, but actually I can't wait to come home again."
For a moment, there is silence as her statement reaches for each of their hearts, Lindsay's, just breaking.
Then the more familiar dynamics take over. "We can't wait either," Claire says. "We'll be dealing with one grumpy half of a couple until October while you're living the high life in L.A."
"Four months without sex," Jill chimes in. "Though, you know, good friends help each other out in need."
Cindy throws a paper napkin at her.
Rosie, their waitress who has seen many 'club meetings', can barely hide her amusement.
"They are not with me," Lindsay tells her. "I don't even know them."
"You are not going to make me cry in public, right?" Cindy's eyes are bright.
"If I can be brave, so can you." Lindsay brushes her cheek with the back of her hand, then pulls her close in a firm hug. "Promise me this is the last time that you're going away for this long." She knows it isn't fair; no one can tell the future, and the chances and opportunities that might arise, that might be foolish to say no to. Lindsay doesn't care.
"I promise," Cindy whispers.
She picks up her suitcase, turns once more to wave before she walks through the gate.
It's probably stupid to think of Greek mythology at a moment like this, but Lindsay can't help remembering the symbolism of looking back and a woman trapped in Hades.
Suppressing a shudder, she turns back to her friends with a fake smile, and they leave the airport together.
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