Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Women's Murder Club and my intention for writing this story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights. I'm pissed that this show was canceled because I think it had tremendous potential...plus Angie Harmon is not hard to look at or listen to. :)

This story is a Lindsay/Cindy fic - nothing graphic - so you've been warned.

IN THE LINE OF FIRE

We walked down the front steps of the Hall towards the coffee vendor. I had my heart set on a large cup of dark roast, complete with a caffeine kick that I hoped would help me shake the sleepiness that consumed me. I spent most of the night working on a story and ended up with only a few hours of sleep.

"Two, one with cream and no sugar," Linsday dug into her pocket and handed the man a couple of bills.

"You're buying?" I asked, surprised.

She turned and smiled at me, making me light up inside, "Yeah. I think I owe you at least a coffee for sticking your neck out for us the other day when we needed a decoy." Extending her hand, she gave me my cup.

"Thank you. It's too bad that even though Jose is behind bars now it's never going to bring his baby back."

"Welcome to my world. No matter how much you fight for the victims they're still victims."

Before I could say another word my attention was snatched away by a black van roaring up the street. The two of us looked over at it because it was going way too fast for the busy area that was littered with people at this time of morning. It slowed slightly as it came closer. I saw the side door slide open and everything after that seemed to happen in a split second.

"Get down!" Lindsay yelled as she latched onto the sleeve of my jacket and yanked me behind her, pushing me down and reaching for her gun.

I fell to the ground as shots rang out from the van - I couldn't tell you how many because I was covering my head and praying that I wasn't going to get shot.

People were scrambling and screaming, trying to get out of the line of fire and the next thing I knew, Lindsay fell on top of me. The van zoomed away and I stretched my neck out to see if I could read the plate number. I knew something was wrong because Lindsay wasn't trying to get up. I put my arms around her middle and gasped as I felt warmth and wetness on my hands - my fears quickly confirmed. "Oh my God, Lindsay!" She began struggling for air and her chest was covered in blood. "Someone call an ambulance! Officer down!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Cin...can...can't...bre..." she mumbled as she grimaced in pain and coughed.

Her eyes were starting to close and it sent my heart into my throat. "Linds? Linds, can you hear me? Don't you dare die on me, Boxer! You hear me?!" My voice cracked with fear. I felt her blood on my chest, realizing a bullet must have gone through.

"Lindsay!" Claire yelled as she and Tom came running towards us - dozens of police officers in tow.

"What the hell happened?" Tom asked as he knelt down beside her, putting his gun back into the holster by his side.

"Someone just opened fire on her. Black van. No plates." I held onto her as tightly as I could, absently rocking.

Tom motioned over towards one of the detectives that was scanning the area, "Hey! Petersen, I want every single person within a ten block radius interviewed. I want to know who the hell did this. Tape this place off now! No one leaves the scene until we interview them and I don't care if it takes days."

"I'm on it."

Claire put her hands over mine, "Lemme see her, Cindy," she said softly, in a calm, motherly voice. I moved my hands away so she could look at her wound. "Her lung is punctured and most likely collapsed." She watched blood ooze from the corner of her mouth. "Dammit," she swore under her breath as she took note of the other wounds but had to ignore them for now. "Hang on, Lindsay. Just hang on, baby." Claire placed her hand over the wound in Lindsay's chest, doing her best to keep her emotions in check as Lindsay let out a pained moan. "Did anyone call an ambulance?!"

Fear grabbed hold of me as I realized someone may not have called them. But then I heard the siren in the distance, "Sounds like they're coming." All I could do was hold her and continuously kiss her forehead. I wished there was some chance this was all a bad dream. "Oh, Lindsay," I cried softly by her ear, kissing her temple.

Lindsay whimpered as her face contorted with pain - her eyelids fluttered a bit and she began to stir. "H-hrrts," she mumbled.

"Shhhh. Relax and stay still, sweetheart. Help is coming," Claire assured her. Then she shook her head and creased her brow, "She's been shot more than once, there's one in her shoulder. Can't tell if it went through and I don't want to move her. God. Who the hell did this?!"

"At least one went through, she's bleeding all over me," I said in a sob.

An ambulance tore up the street and came to a sudden stop up onto the sidewalk where Lindsay lay. Two paramedics climbed out of the back, "What've we got?" one asked her.

"Multiple gunshot wounds. At least one punctured her lung." Claire held onto Lindsay, afraid to leave her.

The two men went right to work, practically pushing me and Claire out of the way. They got a tube down her throat and secured her onto a gurney, then wasted no time in getting her into the back of the ambulance. I wanted to go with them but Claire pulled me towards her, shaking her head. All I could do was watch and it tore my heart out as they pulled away - leaving us standing there covered in Lindsay's blood.

WWWWMMMMCCCC

Hours passed and we waited anxiously in the waiting room for any word on Lindsay's condition. The situation was uncomfortable enough, but the stiff chairs, stale-colored walls and bad coffee only made the waiting excruciating.

Tom stood the majority of the time, not knowing quite what to do with himself. He hardly noticed he'd been pacing and then came to a stop in the same place for about ten minutes. His mind raced, it was evident by the look on his face.

"Lindsay Boxer," a doctor announced as he entered the small room. We all snapped our heads up in his direction. "She's out of surgery," he said as he sat down, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's in critical condition right now and in the I.C.U. She lost a lot of blood. She's got a total of five gunshot wounds: one to her left shoulder which did not go all the way through and lodged in her scapula, one to her left side that went all the way through and punctured and collapsed her lung - also broke two ribs, one to her right side just above her hip that went in and out clean, and two flesh wounds: one to her left forearm and her right thigh. Obviously the worst injury is to her lung so we've got her on a ventilator to help her breathe. We don't like to keep anyone on a ventilator for very long so we want to be able to remove her from it as soon as possible."

I felt Claire put her arms around me and squeeze. "Can we see her?" she asked softly.

"I can let one or two of you and that's all. They need to constantly check on her so they really don't like visitors to stay too long."

"Go," Claire said to me, "Tell her we're here for her." Claire's voice caught in her throat as she couldn't hold back the emotion any longer.

"Tom." I reached out my hand to him, intending to take him with me.

"No. You just go. I...I can't...really. Excuse me," he said as he bowed his head and excused himself from the room. Jill went after him.

I pressed my lips together as I held back the urge to completely break down.

The doctor stood up and led me down to the I.C.U. "She's got a chest tube and other tubes, wires and...well...I don't want it to scare you."

"It's okay," I said. I'd seen countless dead bodies, stab wounds, accident victims and God knows what else, but it's a whole different ball game when it's someone you know...and love.

I sucked in a deep breath before entering the room.

"Just a few minutes. I'll be right here outside."

I nodded and slowly entered. The immediate sight of Lindsay surrounded by all kinds of machines and a tube sticking out of her throat took my breath away. I felt my knees start to buckle but caught myself. "Oh God, Lindsay." The slow rise and fall of her chest and the hissing sound of the ventilator sent chills down my spine but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. It was almost as if I couldn't believe it was really her.

Reaching over, I took her hand, kissing the back of it. "Don't leave me, Boxer. I haven't even had a chance to take you out on a real date. Hell...you'd probably say no anyway." I snuffed away the tears and ran the back of my hand gently down the side of her face. "Everyone's really worried about you, especially Tom." I squeezed her hand slightly. "Just so you know, I'm not leaving this place until you wake up so you better hurry up about it."

"Ma'am," the doctor whispered as he poked his head inside.

I nodded at him and then turned back to Lindsay. "He's kicking me out so I have to go. I'll be down the hall so have them come get me when you wake up. I promise I'm not leaving you." Leaning over, I kissed her on the forehead and then left the room without looking back because I would have completely fallen apart.

I got back to the waiting area and Claire wrapped me up in her arms. That's when I burst into tears and let it all go.

"Shhh, it's okay. She's strong, you know that," Claire reminded me.

"But she's...she's hurt so bad and there's nothing I can do for her. I was right beside her on those steps. Maybe if I'd..."

"Stop it," Claire interrupted me as she pulled away from our embrace. She waved a finger at me like a typical mother would do, "You are NOT going to blame yourself for any of this."

"She protected me, Claire. She pulled me behind her and pushed me down and all I did was sit there and watch her get shot."

"She's a cop and you're a reporter. She's trained to protect. You're not at fault here and don't think for a second that Lindsay would even suggest that you are either!"

"I just hate it! I hate it that she was lying in my arms, bleeding to death and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it!" I plunked down onto one of the chairs and put my head in my hands, sobbing.

"Cindy?" I heard Jill's voice call out as she knelt down beside me, rubbing her hand on my back. "Why don't you go home and get some rest. One of us will call you if there's any change."

"No," I said as I snapped my head up, "I'm not leaving here until she wakes up, I promised her."

"Will you at least let me take you home to get changed and then I'll bring you back?" Claire asked.

I looked down at myself and my jeans, jacket and blouse were stained with blood. It just made me cry even more.

"Come on." Claire and Jill helped me up and walked me out to the car.