Head pounding, Lindsay tries to unstick her eyelids, and, after a brief struggle, resorts to using her fingers to pry them open. She silent thanks whatever gods out there that the curtains are drawn – sunlight this early, on her day off no less, is simply not an option.
Her bed seems warmer than usual, but her sleep-fogged mind chooses to ignore it. Stifling another melodramatic groan, she gathers the strength to roll onto her side. Peers at the bedside clock.

6.52am. What.

It is entirely possible that she is still drunk. Lindsay flips onto her back. Huffs, digs the heels of her palms as hard as she dares into her eye sockets. Lets out a frustrated growl.


Her head whips around so fast that it actually bounces off her pillow a little. Vision blurry, she blinks a few times, attempting to focus on the pass of red inches from her face. Cindy.


Her body ricochets backwards away from the Cindy-shaped mass on the other side of her bed. A strangled squwark issues from her, and she coughs hastily.

"Cindy?" Her brain slips through what she remembers of last night. Oh. The club, and margaritas, and fruit juice cocktails, and Cindy, and bourbon. Although she swears that, like the honourable Inspector that she is, she let Cindy have her bed and took the couch for herself, squashing up with Sweet Martha.

"Mmph. Hey. Lindsay." Voice still sleep-soaked and muffled by a pillow. "Whassthetime?"

Having recovered from the shock of waking up to Cindy in her bed, she slowly creeps back towards the centre of the mattress, if only so that she doesn't tumble to the floor. She pauses, and rubs furiously again at her eyes.

"Why," she eventually croaks, "am I awake at 7am?" She stares at the ceiling, willing the fluff that's clouding her head to go away. "On my day off," she adds, trying not to grind her teeth in irritation.

The weight on the other side of the bed shifts. "Umph," comes the answer, and she feels the quilt being tugged over Cindy's head. Seconds later, she hears a tiny snore, and she can't help her lips quirking in a smile.

It's 7am on her day off, and she has woken up to sharing a bed with Cindy, who she may or may not have a thing for. She tends to avoid thinking about it too strenuously. Fuck this, she thinks, it's too early, and she rolls over into sleep.

A/N No idea where I'm going with this, and also no idea why I've published it. Blame it on weird ex-partners and utter boredom. Sorry folks!