Title: You Shook Me
Author: Misty Flores
Genre: Women's Murder Club
Notes: Follow up to 'Working Doubletime on the Seduction Line'
Teaser: Jill and Cindy have rules regarding their meaningless sex. They get blurry.
First Rule: Claire and Lindsay don't need to know.
"We don't tell them," Jill breathed, out-of-breath, panting against bare skin, fingers still buried in between Cindy's twitching legs.
Cindy Thomas, girl reporter, couldn't let the words sink in at first. Her entire focus was on the slender digits moving inside her, swiping gently as she came down from her euphoric, splintering ascension.
She palmed sweaty blonde hair, head falling back as she felt a warm mouth encase a sensitive nipple, biting lightly before Jill finally pulled back, collapsing beside her.
Heaving, aching, Cindy finally opened her eyes. "What?"
"We don't tell them," Jill repeated, a moment later, rubbing her flat stomach and staring up at the ceiling, still breathing hard, shoulder brushing against hers. "Claire will worry and Lindsay's head would explode."
It was the first time Jill had actually spoken since she had come home, found Cindy typing away on the couch, and dragged her to Jill's bedroom. Incidentally, it was also the first time Jill had decided to provide any kind of clarification as to what it was they were doing. Not that that was any sort of clarification at all.
"Oh." Cindy's head was swimming, and she reached up, pressed her hand to her clammy forehead, trying to think despite the lingering affects of a damned good orgasm. "Um. Okay. I mean… it's just sex. Not that there would be anything to tell."
Now, it was quiet, save for the heavy panting, and her skin, riddled with goosebumps and sweat, was starting to feel chilled. It was 8:30PM, and Cindy still had an article to write.
"I should go shower," she said, when Jill said nothing to ease the awkward moment. "I have an early deadline."
Hesitating, Cindy finally pressed up and slid off the bed, gathering the clothes that Jill had matter-of-factly yanked off and padded barefoot out of the room. She couldn't help a glance back at Jill.
The other woman lay naked on the rumpled bed, one arm slung over her eyes, chest rising and falling.
Second rule: It's okay to date other people.
"So, how's it going?" Claire's eyes danced over her straw, fixing Cindy with a curious stare as they occupied opposite sides of their token booth, sipping at her Diet Coke.
Feeling unintentionally scrutinized, Cindy found herself flushing an embarrassing shade of pink. "How's what going?" That sounded just a little too hyper, but thankfully this was Claire, not Lindsay and Cindy didn't have the irresistible urge to shrink under the table.
"You and Jill." Claire continued, intentionally causing the younger woman the choke. "I feel a little bit like I threw you under the bus, but it seems to be working out."
Cindy's legs automatically snapped together.
"What's working out?" Lindsay asked, slinking in beside her, with a whiff of perfume and leather.
Eyes on the table, Cindy tried to breathe. "Me and Jill," she said, as easily as she could manage. Which of course, sounded nervous and mangled. "I mean… it's an adjustment but… I guess we're doing okay."
"I stayed with her for a bit when Tom and I were on the outs," Lindsay announced, crossing her arms and watching her amicably. "That was an adventure."
Cindy really didn't want to know what that meant.
"What are you guys talking about?" came a breathless voice, and once again, Cindy didn't look, as Jill Bernhardt settled in beside Claire.
"You and Cindy," Claire answered helpfully, and immediately Cindy could sense a pair of colored eyes blaze heatedly in her direction. "The roommate thing. How it's going."
"Oh," Jill said, and Cindy glanced up, eyes narrowing. Across the table, Jill betrayed nothing. "And how is it going, Cindy?"
"So far so good," she responded, feeling herself blushing as the Inspector beside her looked at her curiously. "Though getting her to wash dishes is like pulling teeth."
"Well what kind of person doesn't have a dishwasher?" It was a complaint she had heard for weeks, and Cindy rolled her eyes, and offered the same response she always did.
"The poor kind."
"Was that Inspector Chaidez you were talking to?" Already bored with the roommate squabble, Lindsay slumped in her seat, leaning into Cindy as she arched a curious brow at Jill. "Did I hear him say he'd see you tonight?"
Muscle under her eye twitching, Cindy swiveled her head to her part-time lover, who didn't look at her at all as she drank a gulp of water and smiled. "You did. We're having drinks."
Oh. "Who's Inspector Chaidez?" she asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible, despite the mortifying sinking feeling that was happening in her stomach. Which, on its own, was completely totally weird, and completely inappropriate.
"This hot Inspector who just joined the force." Claire's smile was lascivious. "I should have known Jill would have gotten her hooks into him before the end of his first week."
"Well, I thought about letting Lindsay have him, but then I saw him working out at the Bally's right by work. Yummy."
"You can have him." Lindsay's tone was dry. "I'm not really looking right now." Her shoulder brushed Cindy's again, and oddly, Cindy was beginning to feel crowded.
With a plastic smile, she reached for the menu. "So I'm guessing I won't be expecting you in tonight at a reasonable hour?"
"Not if Chaidez has anything to do with it," Claire snorted, and Cindy buried herself behind the menu.
Third rule: Don't get jealous.
Jill was going on a date. Which made total and complete sense because they were, after all, just fooling around and the sex was meaningless, and Cindy forgot just how BAD she was at meaningless sex.
It was after midnight. She had to be at the paper by six am. Her eyelids were drooping, and still, she sat on the couch, remote in hand, trying to watch as a heavily muscled man dangled from a white curtain during the third stage of Ninja Warrior.
She didn't realize she had actually dozed until she dimly felt pressure against her shoulder, and eyes opened blearily to find an absolutely gorgeous Jill, wearing an amused smile, leaning over her.
"It's 1:30AM," said the other woman softly, still wearing her jacket as she tossed her keys on the coffee table and settled in beside her. "What are you still doing up?"
She blinked, body stiff, stifling a yawn as she pushed herself up and rubbed at her eyes. "I was watching TV."
Jill's immaculately arched brow rose, and she glanced at what was now a Paid Segment for The Magic Bullet.
Cindy's head cocked, suddenly intrigued. "I want to make guacamole in six seconds flat."
"I've been here a month." Jill kicked off her stiletto 'fuck me' heels, and curled her bare feet under her. "You've made a grilled cheese."
"If I had a Magic Bullet I could have grilled cheese and guacamole."
A wave of uncharacteristic shyness overtook her, as her eyes locked intensely with Jill's, then glanced away. "So how was your date?"
"Typically lewd," Jill answered immediately, palming her bare nape. Despite herself, Cindy found herself following the graceful curve of her neck. "He wanted me to spend the night."
Cindy didn't answer. Her fingers twitched voluntarily, and she made sure her eyes were on the television. "Why didn't you?"
The woman beside her made no response, and when Cindy finally turned her head, she discovered the blonde vixen simply watching her, a small smile playing on full lips.
Immediately, she felt the flush of arousal, and with a shake of her head, and a wide smile, she tossed the remote to the floor, and leaned.
Jill met her halfway, tongue immediately plunging into her mouth, fingers cupping Cindy's chin possessively as they kissed.
Cindy was thankful for her years of yoga when she twisted her legs under her, mouth still attached to Jill's as she scrambled to her knees and smoothed palms over silky, bare thighs, bunching Jill's dress up at the waist.
Hands still clutching the sides of her head, Jill leaned back, taking Cindy with her, allowing her to fall on top of her. Dragging her mouth alongside Jill's chin, Cindy reached up and dug underneath the fabric at Jill's cleavage, jerking down and popping a full breast free, palming it in her hands, feeling Jill arch underneath her.
Hips pressed against Jill's, Cindy reached up for another long kiss, and then ground into the other woman, hands drifting to wrap long legs around her waist, planting kisses on her chest and then closing her mouth over the exposed breast.
Fingers clawed into her hair, scratching at her scalp, and she heard Jill moan desperately, falling easily into a horny rhythm.
"Tell me what you want," she breathed, tongue sliding flatly against a perky nipple.
Palms shoved at her shoulders, and immediately, Cindy's hands smoothed up those legs to find a barely there thong.
Immediately, she drifted, planting kisses on Jill's thighs before hooking a finger underneath the string and pulling it aside, allowing her access to the hot, pulsing core of her lover.
"FUCK," Jill groaned.
It was the last coherent word she got out of her for a while.
Fourth Rule: We will not date each other.
"GOD-DAMNED LINDSAY BOXER!"
The words erupted as soon as she was safely away from the infuriating Inspector, leaning against her little red car named Maggie and a good shot of vodka away from slamming her notebook with her meticulous notes on the ground.
The click of heels alerted her to a witness, Jill Bernhardt, who it appeared, had followed her from the crime scene to her parked car. The other woman's face was unreadable.
Flushed, and frustrated, Cindy offered her a pointed glare. "Don't you start in on me, too."
"You're lucky she didn't arrest you," Jill began, ignoring her completely. "Do you realize how much danger you were in?"
"I CALLED her as soon as things were hot," Cindy snapped, inserting her key into the car lock and jerking it open. "I got out of there. I waited for her, and now I'm completely scooped because Lindsay flipped out and banned me from the crime scene MY LEAD got her. Meanwhile the entire fucking press line is out there, getting information my blood, sweat and tears helped her find!"
Behind her, the other woman was quiet. "Okay," Jill said suddenly, "Maybe she over reacted a little."
Cindy rolled her eyes in a huff. "A little?"
"Lindsay's having a tough time, right now."
"You know what? Don't make excuses for her." Cindy threw her purse into the passenger seat, slammed the car door shut. "I'm over it. I'm over Lindsay calling me every time she wants me to dig through seven tons of crap to find one nickel, then acting as if I contribute nothing. I'm tired of the fact that when push comes to shove, I'm the fourth wheel. I am so OVER Lindsay Boxer."
Before she could cross to the other side of her car, a strong hand grabbed hold of her shoulders, and pulled back. Suddenly she was being embraced from behind, Jill leaning down, massaging lightly into her shoulders. Despite herself, Cindy found herself softening, leaning back into the firm, curvy form of her roommate.
"Give me your keys," came the light response, before a soft kiss brushed along her ear, making Cindy's eyes flutter despite themselves.
"Denise is here. She's taking over. I've been banned too." Jill squeezed again, and plucked the tinkling metal out of her palm. "Let's get out of here, and use the frustration for more productive means."
Jill's version of more productive means meant taking her to the gay bar they had first gone to, that first night. It meant writhing with pulsing bodies, drinking a lot of alcohol, and screaming out song lyrics.
It meant making out against the bar, tonguing salt and lemon off each other's throats, and tilting foreheads against each other, gripping each other tightly.
It meant coming home at two in the morning, and fucking fiercely, ending up so tangled in each other Cindy forgot to leave, and spent the night curled up in Jill's arms.
Incidentally, that also meant six am sex, and crawling late into her cubicle, hung over but oddly satisfied.
First Rule: Claire and Lindsay don't need to know.
"You left the crime-scene early," Lindsay Boxer commented, leaning into her office, expressive brown eyes studying her closely. "Didn't think you were gonna give up the case to Denise without a fight."
Nursing a black coffee and battling inconveniently worrying images of a naked red-head, head nestled on her shoulder, sleeping so damned peacefully on her bed, Jill crossed her ankles and maintained a neutral, tired expression for her friend. "She's the boss. Besides, I was doing another kind of damage control."
The pointed glare was enough for the other woman to lose a little bit of steam, before Lindsay entered her office, and closed the door behind her. "She shouldn't have been slinking around the crime scene."
"She didn't do it on purpose. You wouldn't have even known about the smugglers if it wasn't for her. She called you," Jill enunciated, not really in the mood to continue the argument between Lindsay and Cindy from the night before, but somehow unable to keep from defending the missing reporter from her sometimes irrational best friend. "And you completely screwed up her story, and basically allowed her to get scooped by every Tom, Dick and Harry by banning her from the crime scene."
"She should have kept her ass behind the yellow line!" Lindsay spit, finger pointed in her direction.
"She's never kept her ass behind the yellow line," Jill remarked idly. "And you've never had a problem with it before."
Lindsay's mouth opened, then closed. "Dammit." Her shoulders slumped, and Jill sucked in a deep breath, as the Inspector shuffled on her boots, kicking at some non existent speck. "Maybe I over reacted just a little."
Brow arching, Jill shot her a knowing glare.
"And what kind of planet are we on that you're suddenly defending Cindy Thomas, of all people?" Lindsay sputtered.
To think about that would give her a headache. "She's my roommate," she said, spouting the most obvious and innocent reason.
"I just… she just… she makes me see red sometimes, you know?" Lindsay's hands were now moving expressively, and she swiveled on her boot and began to pace. Her face was growing increasingly flushed, and Jill seemed less and less inclined to have this conversation. "Sometimes I just… I don't know whether I want to hug her or wring her skinny little neck." Lindsay paused abruptly, and glanced her way. "Just how mad is she?"
Glancing down at her paperwork, Jill resumed writing. "Pretty mad," she offered, and scribbled another signature, flipping pages. "Said something about being 'over Lindsay Boxer' and nickels and ten tons of shit."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"A pissed off Irish Catholic rarely does."
"God-dammit." Lindsay slunk in the chair opposite Jill's desk. "I'm going to have to make this up to her, aren't I?"
Jill's mouth twitched. She kept her eyes on her forms. "It might be a nice start, just to make her feel appreciated. Don't go overboard," she found herself adding. "You know she has a crush on you."
"She what?" Jill finally allowed herself to look. Lindsay's eyes were wide. "Did she tell you that?"
As yet, Lindsay was not expressing the appropriate signs of disgust. "It's obvious."
Lindsay clucked her tongue, shook her head. "You know, at first I thought so? But lately she's been… I don't know."
The fact that Lindsay Boxer looked almost pleased by the news of Cindy's still lingering crush brought about a flash of almost irrational fear and something far uglier. Biting her lip, Jill refused to dwell on it, but did shut the conversation down, with a well-placed barb about Tom's new wife.
That set Lindsay off and running, and allowed Jill to carefully put the surprising emotion away, into a deep part of her that she didn't have to touch.
Second rule: It's okay to date other people.
Jill knew, if she worked hard enough, she could get Cindy to actually meow.
It was this tender little sound, like a new born kitten, this soft, breathless little 'mew'.
It was absolutely adorable, and surprisingly, the biggest turn on.
She heard it now, as she pressed against the wet, convulsing body, sucked water off a damp shoulder. Bracing Cindy in front of her, the water pelted against them in the tiny tub. Jill was thankful she was taller, because her muscles still strained as Cindy, weak-kneed and on the verge of collapse, reached weakly to grab hold of Jill's neck, and drag her down for a sloppy kiss.
Smiling into the kiss, Jill slid slick fingers from between Cindy's thighs, and settled her palms on her waist, manipulating the younger girl around until they were face to face, kissing more deeply still.
When Cindy pulled away, rest her head against Jill's collarbone, Jill's arms wrapped around her, and pulled her in, fitting Cindy tightly against her body, and allowing Cindy to recover.
The sprinkling water had begun to go cold. She reached around Cindy and shut off the valve, transforming the cascading rain into a weak drip.
"That was… a surprise," Cindy breathed airily, against Jill's shoulder, the first sentence she had uttered since being ambushed in the shower.
Jill laughed lightly in response, smoothing wet tendrils away from the youthful face with a lover's affection. "I hoped you wouldn't mind."
"No, no." Cindy squeezed her harder, biting lightly at her earlobe, before settling once again against her. "This is me seriously not minding."
Hold loosening, Jill was rewarded with a gentle, wet kiss, Cindy's mouth hungrily moving against hers.
Pulling back, she sighed raggedly. "Pizza tonight?"
"Sure. Pizza. Ninja Warrior. Fucking."
Green eyes blinked at her, before glancing away. "No, actually. I have plans. With Lindsay."
The hold suddenly grew stale. "Oh?" Jill asked lightly.
"Stalked me at my car in the Registrar's garage and gave me a brownie. It was really weird, actually." Cindy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you say something to her?"
Jill's expression was carefully clouded. "What would I say?"
"She had this really weird expression on her face and said she wanted to make up for screwing me over. I asked her if she was high, and she was actually offended."
"Maybe she just feels guilty." Jill's body felt unnaturally tight.
"I guess. She's taking me for hot fudge sundaes at the Ghirardelli Soda Fountain." Cindy's nose scrunched thoughtfully. "She really does think I'm twelve, doesn't she?"
Smile muted, Jill just shrugged, before letting her go, suddenly cold, slipping out of the shower.
Third rule: Don't get jealous.
Lindsay Boxer would not stop staring at Cindy Thomas.
Jill Bernhardt absolutely did not care.
She kept her eyes and thoughts to herself as her queasy stomach forced her to stay on the far end of the morgue, offer the other three women an occasional glance or comment as they discussed the unfortunately dead person on the metal slab, innards hanging out.
During the discussion, Jill told herself she was not counting the times Lindsay found a reason to touch Cindy Thomas, nor did she particularly care that Cindy Thomas did not come visit her after she came home from her hot fudge sundaes.
Jill hadn't spent all night lying in a jealous fit, either.
To do so would have been petty and while Jill was not above petty, she was still the maker of the rules.
And the rules clearly stated that jealousy had absolutely no place in her and Cindy's relationship.
Dazed, Jill glanced back, suddenly aware of three pairs of eyes, watching her intensely. "What?"
"Did you hear me?" Lindsay looked impatient. "Can you get that warrant for me? I need it by this afternoon."
Replaying the conversation in her head she had distantly listened to, she finally caught up, and offered a nod. "Of course."
"Great. I'm gonna go check in with Tom, then head out with Jacobi. Cindy?"
"I know, I got it." Cindy voice was resigned and annoyed, but she was smiling. "Nickel in seven tons of shit. I'm on it."
"That's my girl."
The phrasing caused Jill to glance up sharply, but Lindsay was already moving past her, heading out of the morgue. The loud rolling of metal erupted, as Claire slammed the body back into its assigned fridge.
"I'm going to pick up Nate," she announced. "Happy hunting, ya'll."
Jill stayed put, arms crossed, breathing in and out, as Cindy, smiling innocently and looking infuriatingly calm, sauntered over.
"Poor guy, huh? Can't believe-"
Instinct made her snap. Her fingers settled over Cindy's wrist, and her grip tightened, dragging the girl off in mid-sentence into Claire's empty office.
"Jill, what are you-"
Cutting off Cindy's words by slamming a kiss against the reporter's mouth, Jill drove her into the wall, nearly upsetting Claire's plaque as she palmed a breast through Cindy's vest.
Immediately, instinctively, Cindy had already started kissing her back, arms going around her shoulders, and tongue tangling with hers, sucking her in deeper as Jill fumbled for the front of Cindy's belt, yanking it out of its buckle.
"Holy Shit, Jill, we can't. It's Claire's-" Jill immediately clamped a hand over Cindy's mouth, muffling the sound before once again kissing her, drowning out the moan that ripped from Cindy's throat when Jill pulled down her zipper and jerked her fingers into the front Cindy's jeans.
She was almost sure she was hurting Cindy, the way she pounded into her, holding her upright with an arm around her waist, teeth digging into the fleshy part of Cindy's neck.
She wasn't sure she cared.
All she cared about was the feel of the woman coming apart in her hands, the wetness that slicked around her fingers that proved how much Cindy was enjoying this, the deep soul-swallowing kisses that Cindy bestowed on her afterwards, and the utterly primal satisfaction of knowing that at this moment, Cindy Thomas was incapable of thinking of anyone else.
Fourth Rule: We will not date each other.
She was shuddering, intensely vulnerable. Her heart was pounding so fast she could hear the blood in her ears.
She throbbed, hands splayed out on either side of her as she struggled to find purchase, intensely focused on one spot; one feeling.
"Fuck, Cindy," she breathed, louder than she had ever been before. "There. Fuck."
And there it was again, the rough feel of a tongue circling around her clit, making her hips jerk and her legs tremble, the vibrating feel of a hum that took her over the edge, splintering her into pieces.
She resurfaced, but was granted no reprieve, just the simple agony of the same tongue, doing the same thing, bringing her up the wave one more time. Teeth scraped roughly against the swollen bundle of nerves.
"Stop," she managed, a minute later, feeling like she was bobbing for air, fumbling weakly, hips twitching as she begged. "I need to…"
Cindy finally let her go, leaning down one more time for another kiss against her, before crawling up beside her, falling into her side.
Eyes shut tight, Jill heaved in and out, dimly aware of the girl at her side, shoulder pressing against her.
"I think we should tell them." She breathed out the words before she could stop them, and immediately, her shaken body stilled, her eyes opened.
After a moment, she heard a confused, "What?"
Feeling dry-mouthed, Jill swallowed hard, and forced herself up to her side, facing Cindy and her unreadable expression.
"Claire," she began, and hesitated. "And Lindsay. I think we should tell them. What we're doing."
It was a flagrant disregard for the rules.
Jill didn't care.
Cindy, however, seemed conflicted. "Um… okay." Her acceptance didn't do much to alleviate Jill's sudden insecurity. "What are we doing, exactly?"
Fucking would have been the appropriate response. As least that was what Jill wanted to tell herself.
"You know…" she began, feeling like a fifteen year old again, frightened and foolish. "Dating."
Her lover inhaled sharply. "We're dating?"
It wasn't heartening that Cindy sounded so damned surprised.
"Well, what the fuck do you call it?"
Beside her, Cindy flopped over, and stared at the ceiling. "I don't know what I'd call it. Can't say I've ever … done this before."
Whatever the hell this was, she meant.
Jill closed her eyes and wondered how the hell to call this off without looking and sounding like a complete boob.
"Well, you know. Unless you'd rather be dating Lindsay."
A beat. "What?"
"Because you know, I totally get it. Why would you knock over actual feelings over meaningless sex?"
The room was dead quiet, and Jill closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
Soft pressure distracted her, fingers smoothing against her arm, trailing up to her shoulder. "Jill."
Exhaling unsteadily, Jill kept her eyes shut. "What?"
"I'm okay with calling it dating."
Her heart, on the verge of splitting open, precariously held together. "Okay."
"I was never all that good at meaningless sex anyway."
She smiled weakly, eyes still on the ceiling. "Trust me. You were fantastic."
"No, I sucked. It was only meaningless the first time. And even then…"
She should have felt so damn relieved. It was idiotic. It was Cindy Thomas, of all people. Who, naturally, would have been absolutely horrible at making rules, when she was so damned used to breaking them. "So we're dating then."
"Right. How do we do that?"
Jill's mouth trembled into a smile. "You're asking me?"
"We could just keep doing what we're doing. You know, except for the part with Lindsay shooting me for stealing you away from her and Claire giving me safe sex lectures and all."
Because they were telling Lindsay and Claire. Tomorrow.
Jill finally allowed herself to look, at a beautiful girl, whose brilliant red hair spilled over her pillows, bright green eyes curious and inquisitive and intoxicating.
"I should go shower," Cindy said suddenly. "I have an early deadline."
Swallowing, Jill said uncaringly, "Fine."
There was a moment of silence, and suddenly Cindy shifted over, until she was draped against Jill, nipping gently at her collar bone, apparently settling in for the night.
Completely aware of what she had pulled herself into, Jill gently pulled the covers over them both, and pressed a kiss against Cindy's forehead.
She was dating Cindy Thomas. The very idea left her shaken.
And oddly amused.
A little frustrated.
Suddenly smiling, Jill Bernhardt shook her head.
They were feelings, she supposed, it was time to get used to.