Disclaimer: Women's Murder Club is not mine. If it had been, it would have aired on HBO or Showtime and contained more lovin'... just saying. (see profile for a REAL disclaimer)

A/N: Happy Women's Murder Club Day 2013!

There were some days that Cindy wished she didn't have to try so hard- to stand out at the paper, to get a boyfriend, to not screw up and get herself ejected from The Club. Every day was a struggle and sometimes she just needed a break.

Thankfully, today just so happened to be one of those days.

"Earth to Cindy. You okay in there?"

Blinking a few times, Lindsay's face came sharply back into focus, and she realized that she hadn't heard a word that the older woman had said in the last ten minutes, "Would you hate me if I said no?"

She'd only been friends with the small group of women for a few months and didn't want to push her luck. But, Cindy was so worn out and all she wanted to do was relax, drink a cold one with her friend, and bitch about life.

Lindsay's brow furrowed, "Why would I hate you?"

"Because I talk too much," Cindy blurted, rubbing a palm over her weary face, "and I know that I get on your nerves more often than not."

"You don't get on my-"

The redhead rose one dainty eyebrow.

"Okay, so yes, occasionally I find myself wanting to strangle you," she admitted with a sheepish chuckle, "but that hasn't happened in quite a while. So here, where there are no homicides or lead stories, don't you ever think that you're not wanted, okay?"

Cindy nibbled on her bottom lip, one corner of her mouth flickering the tiniest bit as she fiddled with the throw pillow in her lap, "Yeah?"

Playfully, Lindsay grabbed a piece of popcorn from the bowl resting between them and tossed it at her, hitting her squarely in the face, "Yeah, really."

Cindy didn't skip a beat, quickly fishing the kernel out of the tiny space between the sofa cushions before tossing it back at her. She could tell that Lindsay hadn't expected her to retaliate, but that didn't seem to stop either of them from darting toward the bowl, readying themselves for another attack. They got in two, maybe three tosses of their popcorn war before they heard a not-so-quiet harrumph from Sweet Martha. The poor girl had been sleeping peacefully at their feet for most of the evening, but now sat upright with her snout resting on the edge of the sofa watching them with those big, brown eyes. They froze. The thump of Martha's tail wagging halfheartedly against the leg of the coffee table combined with her annoyed little whines leaving them feeling properly chastised.

Cindy snorted, leaning back into her seat as she glanced in Lindsay's direction. There was popcorn everywhere- in her hair, strewn across the floor, on one of the bookshelves on the other side of the room, and in every little nook and cranny between them- and the mess, the joy in such a childish furlough, had them laughing until their cheeks hurt and Martha had successfully cajoled Lindsay into petting her with excited nudges against her owner's leg.

Maybe, Cindy thought she took another swig of her beer and watched her friend with a smile, she didn't have to try so hard after all.

End.