A/N: This is my first time writing a Desperate Housewives fanfiction, so go easy on me. ;) This story is going to follow most of the pivotal moments in Tom and Lynette's relationship, so there's really no estimate of how long it'll be. If anyone has any request for a chapter, I could do that too, but I have some specific ones in mind already. Anyway's, this particular chapter is of their first 'encounter'. So, read, review, and enjoy.
Lynette sat in her office, absentmindedly clicking her pen against the desk. She glanced at the clock, sighing heavily when she noticed that she only had about ten more minutes to consider backing out of this proposal. She had been procrastinating work for at least two hours, contemplating the consequences about what was going to happen, and what already had.
Lynette poured a steaming hot cup of coffee and sat down in the break room. The day had been unusually hectic, and that was something she just couldn't handle. She had a particularly bad night, seeing as Lydia called her at three in the morning with a 'boyfriend emergency' and cried hysterically for two and a half hours, depriving her of the sleep she so desperately craved.
She had just laid her head down on the table in front of her, hoping to catch a few fleeting moments of rest, when she heard the door swing open, and then slam violently a few seconds later.
Her head immediately snapped up, catching sight of a red-faced Tom Scavo, angrily pouring himself a cup of coffee.
She watched him for a second, taking in his guarded stance and infuriated huffs of breath. It was obvious he hadn't even seen her in his fuming entrance. She considered saying something, but his body language warned against it.
So, for a second, she let her eyes roam over him. It was no secret that he was smitten with her, because he showed it every day. Even his co-workers would tease him about the crush he had on her, going as far as singing, 'Scavo and Lindquist sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.' But, unbeknownst to them, Lynette felt a slight stirring in her heart and butterflies in her stomach whenever he came near her.
When her eyes caught sight of his lips, pursed together firmly, she began to fantasize. She rarely ever let herself do that, because he was her teammate, and he was in a relationship. However, nobody would ever know that she daydreamed about his lips and tongue on her body, now would they?
Just as the fantasy became more heated than she originally intended, Tom turned around, catching immediate sight of Lynette. For some reasons that she wasn't sure of, his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed. He almost looked relieved to see her.
"Oh, hey, Lynette," he said with a smile, sitting down next to her. "I didn't even see you there."
"I figured," Lynette answered, an uncomfortable grin on her face. If only he knew what she had just been thinking about.
"So," he continued, desperate for conversation, "Today's been hectic as hell, huh?"
Lynette nodded, right in the middle of a cautious sip of coffee. It burned her tongue, and she had to force herself not to spit it back out. "Mmmhmm."
"Why did you look so angry before?" Lynette asked boldly, watching as Tom's face hardened again. Maybe that was terrible timing.
"Annabelle," Tom answered through clenched teeth. "She's just…being a pain."
She nodded in understanding, knowing exactly how much of a pain in the ass Annabelle could be. She could only imagine what it was like to be in a relationship with her. "I work with the woman, Tom. Trust me, I understand."
Tom chuckled, but quickly returned to his serious demeanor. "I think it's over between us."
Lynette literally spit out her coffee.
If he broke up with Annabelle, he'd be a free agent. She could have him if she wanted him, which, God, did she want him. But, they still worked together. Hell, so did him and Annabelle. Now she was just making excuses.
She shook her head, trying to force her attention onto this unbelievably ironic situation. "Oh, seriously? I thought things were alright between the two of you."
Tom shut his eyes and looked down in what Lynette could only identify as shame. "I never really loved her."
There were not words for this kind of shock. She just gaped at him, her eyes wide and her jaw on the floor, wondering how on Earth she never noticed this before. They were always kissing, rather affectionately, in the elevator, in the hallway, in the office. Then again, she had never actually heard the words leave his mouth. And, he was always staring at her with a slight lust in his eyes that wasn't one of a man in love.
"I—I really don't know what to say here," Lynette said after a few uncomfortable moments as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt nervously. "Except maybe that you're a terrible person."
Even though she giggled after saying it, Tom seemed to take the phrase rather seriously. He hung his head further and his voice dropped to a considerably low, humiliated tone. "You don't know me, Mrs. Lindquist. This decision, to continue in a relationship that had no future, may have been a terrible one, but that doesn't make me a terrible person."
Her heart clutched. This was not what she had intended to happen. Placing her hand sympathetically on his shoulder, she said, "Oh, I know, I know. That was just a joke. Not a very good one, apparently."
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that instinctively made her smile. He lifted his head to meet her gaze, and something in her completely melted. It took every fiber of her being not to lean forward and capture his lips with hers and kiss him until he forgot he ever knew a woman named Annabelle.
It was a full two minutes before either one of them even had a conscious thought about breaking away from the trance that they'd inflicted upon themselves, and even then they didn't speak. Tom soaked in just a few more seconds of her beautiful blue eyes before he turned his concentration onto the untouched coffee cup in front of him.
Lynette let out a long, relieved breath. If he hadn't broken eye contact, she surely would've done something she'd regret. She wasn't even sure that they'd broken up, and she was already plotting out her master plan to get into his pants.
She had to get a control over this feeling, even if he presented an opportunity. She couldn't let herself be manipulated by the genuine sincerity of his eyes or the soft, caring honesty of his smile. Somehow she sensed that, if he and Annabelle ever really did call it quits, he would ask her out. And, given the right conditions, she might actually accept.
"So," Lynette began cautiously, hoping to gain more information on the severity of the fight, "What was said? Did you say it was over?"
"Not in so many words," Tom answered. "But, it was heavily implied."
"Well, implication isn't always clear," Lynette stated.
After he didn't answer, she glanced up at him to make sure he was okay, and what her eyes were met with was a wonderful sight.
He was staring at her. Those gorgeous eyes that she had often times dreamed of getting lost in were looking at her, and in a way that she'd never seen before. It made her self-conscious, but at the same time, she never wanted him to stop.
"What?" Lynette asked with a giggle.
"Nothing," Tom answered, his smile growing wider as he spoke. "It's just that I'm hoping this implication is coming off clearer than the one I sent Annabelle."
Lynette froze in a pure whirlwind of emotion. He was coming on to her, and, in a hazy, clouded fit of lust, she almost reciprocated. But, as she leaned forward, only slightly, her mind snapped back, and she was reminded of the one little detail that kept her at arm's length.
He had a girlfriend.
Until he said the words, "I don't want to be with you anymore," he was committed to her. He belonged to her. But, the signals he was sending were impossible to misread. He didn't want to belong to Annabelle.
"Listen, Lynette, I know what you're thinking," Tom started, his voice shaky and hasty, like he was desperate to say this before she rejected him or something. "But, Annabelle and I, we're done. I just…things have changed."
"What do you mean?" Lynette felt as if she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," Tom admitted, not meeting her gaze, instead letting his eyes rest on the tiled floor beneath them. "Ever since that day, when we met in the elevator, and you looked at me with those killer blue eyes."
He ran his hand over her cheek, his touch making every inch of her tingle, and yearn for more. "And those devilishly inviting lips."
"Tom," whispered Lynette, her voice a plea, the one last shred of self-control she held onto that she'd hoped he would pick up on. The moment his lips touched hers, which she was pretty sure they were about to, it would be over. She would fall, so hard that it would hurt, and there wouldn't be anything she could do about it.
His ran his thumb over the dip in her neck, and she closed her eyes in response, her body aching for a more intimate touch. She wanted to encourage him. She wanted so badly to take this further, but that nagging thing in the back of her mind kept yelling at her.
He already has a woman who loves him. You'd be the tramp who stole her man. He's only using you to get back at her. You mean nothing to him.
When she opened her eyes, though, it was done.
He stood up and leaned his body forward, and in a millisecond, his lips caught hers in a frantic, intense kiss. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer, trying to soak in every moment of this before it was ripped from her when his mind came back down from the clouds.
However, it didn't seem like that was remotely close to happening. The hand that wasn't resting on the hollow of her neck sprawled against her lower back, pressing her against him so hard she almost lost her breath.
The passion flowed through their bodies like a river, washing away every inhibition they'd ever held on to. She didn't think about the fact that he was essentially cheating, and that at any given moment someone could walk in and see their blatant act of adultery. All she focused on was the feeling of his lips firmly locked onto hers, and his hands roaming her body, leaving a trail of the most wondrously torturous flames she'd ever felt.
However, when she felt his fingertips grazing the skin just beneath the hem of her skirt, inching its way higher at an agonizingly slow pace, she was suddenly hyper-aware of her surroundings. They were in a public place, where any one of their co-workers or, worse, his girlfriend, could walk in at any minute and catch their scandalous actions. As much as she knew she would regret it later, she had to stop this before they were lying naked on the floor with each other.
With the remaining strength she had in her body, she brought her hands to his chest and lightly pushed him, signaling his reluctant stop. He looked down at her, a confused expression across his face, and his hand still far underneath her skirt.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his breath hot against her lips. God, why did she have to stop him?
"No, no, absolutely not," she reassured, running her fingertips in circles over his chest. "You were great. It's just…look where we are."
Tom glanced around the room, his eyes widening as if he hadn't even known they were in a break room. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ever…"
Before he could even finish the sentence, Lynette silenced him by putting a finger to his lips. "I'm not."
Against her better judgment, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his again. This time, it wasn't so frantic, and she could almost taste the desperation. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and if they kept this up, they'd both end up having exactly what they wanted right on top of this table.
She pulled away again, and this time, he groaned. Giggling, she said, "Are you that hard up?"
"For you? Yeah," Tom answered honestly. He dipped his head, placing tiny butterfly kisses against her collarbone.
"Tom, don't do that," Lynette gasped, gripping at his hair. That was her weakness, and she definitely couldn't handle it. She could feel the ache between her legs growing more and more demanding with every feather-light peck.
After letting his lips linger there for just a second, he lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. "And, why not?"
"None of your business, Scavo," she countered, trying to keep her poker face on. She didn't like for anyone, not even a lover, to find her breaking points.
"You're awfully defensive for someone who has someone's hand up their dress," Tom whispered huskily, pressing his lips to her neck again. This time, though, he had an idea.
Just as Lynette thought she was regaining some form of intelligible thought, she was knocked back into exquisite torment when she felt his tongue graze over the already-kiss-reddened skin.
"Tom," Lynette groaned. She had expected for the sound to be a warning, but it seemed more like an encouragement; a plea for him to continue.
However, just as his hand inched its way a little too far up her thigh, to which she moaned noticeably, she heard the door jiggle.
In a swift, fluent motion, she pushed against his chest, effectively flinging him backwards onto the chair he'd previously been sitting in. He gave a dumbfounded look to which she shrugged and pointed behind her, where their boss was walking through the door.
" Guys," their boss barked, his voice low and angry. "Lindquist, you need to get your ass back to work. You've been in here for twenty minutes."
And, after haphazardly pouring himself a cup of coffee, and nodding his head in Tom's direction, he left, once again leaving the two of them alone.
"So," Lynette began with a smile. "What just happened?"
"I had my hand up your dress, my tongue down your throat," Tom answered, looking slightly ashamed. "Is there any mistaking that?"
"No, I don't think so." Lynette answered, suddenly blinded by a flurry of unwanted emotion. When it was happening, she wanted nothing more than for it to go on forever. Now that it was over, though, she was feeling much differently.
Her cheeks were most certainly red from the embarrassment for sitting idly by as her fellow business partner groped her in the middle of the day, in the most public of places. She felt nothing short of mortification for willingly, and deriving pleasure from, tangling tongues with him when she was well aware of his relationship status.
Despite those emotions, however, the one that was overwhelming her more than any other was depression. She could tell, from the subtle look of shame clouding his eyes that this wouldn't happen again. He would go home to Annabelle, make up with her, and she'd never have the chance to taste his lips, or revel in his touch, ever again.
She was determined, as Lynette was most of the time, to keep up her unfazed façade. She managed to fake a smile as she took another sip of her now-freezing coffee, purposely avoiding his intense gaze. If she looked at him, she would fall apart.
"Lynette, are you okay?" he asked, his tone dripping with concern. Was she that obvious right now?
"I'm fine," she lied as she hastily stood from her spot, smoothing down her skirt as she did. "I just—I have a lot of work to do. See you later."
She planned to walk out and never look back. She was going to forget the incident between the two of them and pretend it never happened. She was going to move on, and deny that she had even an inkling of affection for this man.
She walked across the room, every step heavy and deferred, wanting to soak in what was left of their moments together. After this, she was certain they'd avoid each other at all costs, and when they were somehow obligated to join a cordial meeting, it would be awkward and forced.
Lynette reached the door, and resisting every scream of protest from her brain, she stopped. She wanted him to stop her. She was praying that he would say something, anything, to make her turn around.
Silence.
Deafening, gut-wrenching silence.
Holding back tears that were threatening to fall, Lynette grasped the door handle and flung it opened, nearly running out of the room in a frantic need to get away from him.
She rushed down the long corridors, ignorant but not oblivious to the confused stares she was receiving along the way. She didn't shed a tear though, even as she turned the corner into the safe, comforting confines of her office.
She sat down at her desk, laying her head in her hands much as she did earlier, trying, but failing, to forget the events that had just transpired. But, it seemed, the more she tried, the more she thought of it.
Everything was swirling through her mind like a tornado, terrifying and threatening. The feel of his soft, moist lips against her skin, the warmth of his hands burning a hole through her clothes wherever he touched, the danger of what she'd done when she was fully aware of every possible outcome. It made her head hurt.
"Knock knock."
Lynette snapped her head up, freezing when she saw him. She was suddenly grateful she hadn't allowed herself to cry.
"Hey," she greeted, faking a genuine smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you seriously think that I'm going to forget what just happened in there?" Tom asked, pointing his thumb in the direction of the break room. "Because I'm definitely not."
Lynette sighed deeply, not even wanting to think about the situation right now, let alone talk about it. "Tom, do we really have to do this?"
He stepped closer to her desk, eyes fiercely locked on her. "Yes. You wanna know why we have to do this?"
She didn't even have enough time to answer. He continued, his voice hushed, smooth, and insistent.
"Because, when I kissed you, I felt something inside of me that I've never felt with any other woman. There was a spark, an electricity, between us that thrilled me and petrified me at the same time. And, I'll be damned if I never feel that again."
He was standing directly in front of her desk now, his hands supporting his weight as he leaned against it. "Tonight. After I'm done with work, I'll meet you here."
He was about to turn and walk away without even hearing her answer, but Lynette wasn't having it. She stood from her desk and grabbed onto his elbow defiantly, forcing his attention back to her. "Hey! Aren't you at least gonna wait for my answer?"
Without any sign of hesitation, Tom turned his body back around and leaned in, his lips only millimeters from hers. "I think I already know your answer."
And, with that, he brushed his lips against hers. It was soft, undemanding, and tender. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to pull away, but on the other hand, he wasn't going for anything more.
When he did finally disconnect their lips, she could still feel his hot breath on her face. God, why was she so affected by him? Her whole body felt like melted ice cream, and for a moment she thought she would dissolve into a milky puddle on the floor.
"I have to get to work," Lynette whispered, hoping he'd leave her alone for a while to collect her frenzied thoughts. "But, when you're done, come back."
With a mischievous, triumphant grin that made every hair on the back of Lynette's neck stand up, he backed away from her. "I knew you'd feel the same way. I'll see you later, Lynette."
And now, here she sat, apprehensively awaiting the arrival of the man she hadn't stopped thinking about all day. Her heart was pounding thunderously against her chest in anxious anticipation, and with the deafening ticking of the clock in her ear, it only got worse.
She tried to focus solely on the newest ad campaign she'd acquired, but everything looked blurred on the paper in front of her. Although she was obviously staring at words like "Advertisements', 'Market Statistics', and 'Yearly Earnings', all she saw was 'Tom'.
She brought her index fingers up to her temples and rotated them in frustrated circles. Her head had begun to ache the moment he walked out of her office and had remained persistent over time. For a split second, she considered calling the whole thing off and just claim that she had come down with something, but in all truth, she wanted this too much to back down now.
The clock on the wall chimed six times, alerting Lynette that her period of contemplation was over, and much to her surprise, her decision had been made. She stood from her chair, gathering papers from her desk and stuffing them into a briefcase with reckless speed.
When she completed that task, she rushed to the mirror hanging on her wall, almost tripping over the leg of her desk as she did so. She regained her balance and checked herself, making sure her clothes were nice, her hair wasn't tangled, and her make-up wasn't smeared (which, it was).
She reapplied her lipstick with concentrated precaution, which had been smudged from her earlier rendezvous with Tom, and ran back to her desk. God forbid she be embarrassed by him twice in one day if he caught her eagerly preparing for this.
The only problem was that she'd put all her work away, so she'd basically just be sitting at her desk, staring anxiously at the door, tapping her fingers in a rhythm impatiently on the hard-wood.
Her fingers continued to drum in the same cadenced tempo for nearly ten minutes. He was officially late. Immediately, her mind began to race and storm with justifications.
He decided to stay with Annabelle. He regrets everything that happened between the two of us. He realized what a mistake he was making and isn't interested in me anymore. I cannot believe I let myself fall for his stupid, perfect smile and those dangerously gorgeous, and deceptively genuine, eyes.
She never once stopped to think that he might've been preparing himself as well.
When he reached her door, she was staring down at her desk, eyes filled with a sadness that he'd never seen before. He glanced down at his watch and realized that he was about twenty-five minutes late.
She thought I stood her up.
With a smug, yet still incredibly sympathetic, smile, he propped himself against the doorframe. "Ready?"
Lynette looked up, those beautiful blue eyes suddenly glinting with hope as she caught sight of him. It almost took her breath away, seeing him standing there with that smile that she was sure was reserved for a special purpose. Maybe she was that special purpose.
He hadn't stood her up. He was there, standing in her doorway, waiting for her. She didn't know why, but this visual made her heart flutter. She almost forgot she was suppose to answer him.
"Sure, let's go."
And with that, she all but leaped out of her seat and joined him in the doorway. They stood there for a few brief seconds, just looking at each other. Their bodies were riskily close together, and the heat that was passing between them was undeniable. Even though they weren't touching, and technically nothing was happening, Lynette had never felt more aware of herself, or more alive.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Lynette asked with an awkward smile, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.
He didn't answer. Instead, he cupped her cheek in his hands and pressed his lips softly to hers, letting his mouth do the talking.
This time, instead of focusing on all of the negative thoughts and questions swarming in her head, she ignored them. She pushed everything to the back of her mind and closed her eyes, letting the feeling of his lips carry her into a bliss that she'd never experienced in her entire life.
Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something extraordinary.
