Disclaimer: I don't own them. Craps.
Spoilers: Not many. I don't know exactly where it fits either, so let your imagination run wild.
A/N: Had this one rattling around in my head for a long time and I finally got the umph to start it.
"Well, now that we've done laundry together-" Adam started, opening the door of the Laundromat.
"And I know that you wear cartoon boxers-"
"And you promised never to tell anyone that, I suppose this means we have to be friends forever."
Lindsay chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Everyone else was stuck at the lab, and she had three weeks worth of laundry to do. Since Adam was already going, it seemed natural to go together. Stealing some of his quarters had just been a fringe benefit.
"If you buy me ice-cream, then I can guarantee the friends forever thing."
"Done. Let's go drop our laundry off. I don't really wanna carry my underwear all over town."
"Yeah, especially the Yogi Bear ones."
"I think you're forgetting your Strawberry Shortcake bra."
"I'm a girl, I'm allowed to have cute things. But you don't tell anyone you saw my bra."
"Are you kidding? Danny would kill me no matter how innocent the situation."
"Yeah, well, it's not his place."
"Wait, what?" Adam asked as they approached her building.
"What?"
"You two aren't…?"
"Together? No, Adam."
"But we've all seen it. The looks, the twitterpatedness, the being disgusting."
"We're just friends. Maybe in the future there will be something more, but for now, we're just friends."
"Who flirt like crazy."
"That's not flirting."
"He makes you giggle, Lindsay."
"So maybe he does. Leave me alone, Adam."
He chuckled as they boarded the elevator and headed up to her floor. They were an unlikely duo- her the beautiful, intelligent country girl, and him, the bumbling, bachelor lab rat- but they made the friendship work. She was insanely goofy, a major science fiction geek, and she understood the intricacies of just about every video gaming system he'd ever played. There was no attraction between them outside common interests, but they had fun together, and that was all that mattered.
"Hey, after ice-cream we should finish that disc of X-Files we started last week."
"Okay. I don't even remember which episode is next."
"I think we just finished the one in black and white where they danced at the Cher concert."
"Well that sucks because the next episodes are the ones where her daughter dies."
"Her daughter?"
"Adam! You know this story line. The stolen ova. The little girl in California."
"Oh! I forgot about that."
"Bad fan," she muttered, tossing her bag of laundry onto the couch to fold later. He left his by the door and they headed outside again.
"Hey, my interests are more varied, so I don't have as much room in my head."
"Right."
"You'd be lost if I said anything about Stargate."
"That's because Stargate sucks."
"Bite your tongue!"
She laughed and kicked at a rock that was on the sidewalk. Adam chased after it and kicked it further, beginning a race for the rock down the street. They laughed and pushed each other out of the way until Lindsay's renegade kick sent the rock down a storm drain.
"Well crap," Adam muttered.
"Oh well. Ice-cream."
She started across the street, leaving him on the corner looking for another rock to kick.
"Hey, hurry it up Ross," she hollered, turning to walk backwards. "Our ice-cream is gonna melt."
"I need another rock."
"Are you in fifth grade?"
"Yeah, and you have cooties!"
Her laughter floated back across the street at him, but in one second of squealing brakes and a horn, it was gone. Adam's head shot up just in time to see the car make contact with her, sending her flying through the air and coming to rest in the middle of the intersection. His feet pounded against the asphalt as he ran for her, skidding to a halt and crouching down next to her.
"Lindsay!" he shouted, reaching for her pulse. It was weak, but it was there. She was breathing, but barely, and he was vaguely aware of someone calling 911. He stared down at her, willing her eyes to open, just for a second.
"Linds, come on, wake up."
He wanted to gather her in his arms and run for the nearest hospital, but he still had enough wits about him to know what a bad idea that would be. He brushed her hair back from her face, hoping that small action would provide her with some comfort. Her breathing was slowing, and he listened raptly for the ambulance sirens. He kept his finger over her pulse, and once it stopped it took a few seconds to register.
"Don't do this, Linds," he muttered, beginning CPR. The stillness of the night was finally shattered by sirens, but he was afraid that they hadn't gotten there in time.