Disclaimer: Desperate Housewives is in no way, shape or form mine. I'm just having fun.

Story Summary: It's debatable whether the date actually continued after the debacle at the restaurant. Missing scene from "Searching."

A/n: Tonight's episode wouldn't get out of my head. I had too much fun watching Tom and Lynette act silly. Consider this an extension of that. Please review! Oh, and if you have a fic request, please let me know—I'm going to need something to get me to April 3.

Date Night

A story by Ryeloza

Lynette had just finished putting on her pajamas when Tom danced into the room carrying a pizza box and two wine glasses, a bottle of red tucked under his arm. Gleefully, he kicked the door shut and grinned at her—a look she met with little more than a skeptical frown. "Paige is asleep," he announced, silkily gliding over to the bed and flopping down. "Parker and Penny are watching a movie. And I managed to steal the rest of their pizza."

"And?"

"And I thought we'd finish our date night."

With a tiny eye roll, Lynette sank down next to Tom and halfheartedly opened the pizza box. The kids had eaten two thirds of it, and it was probably at least two hours past fresh by now, but she hadn't seen anything so appetizing all day. Sighing, she grabbed a slice and dug in while Tom uncorked the wine and poured.

"So where on the scale of bad parenting does this night fall?"

Tom chuckled, apparently finding humor somewhere in this situation. Lynette was at a loss for where. "We're not the ones who took her to the restaurant."

"We are the ones who entrusted Renee to watch our baby." She frowned as Tom handed her a glass. "Well I am."

"Paige is fine. You didn't know—"

"I did."

"Okay, you did. But not exactly. And on the scale of bad babysitting experiences, I think this falls below Bree letting the twins wander downtown and just above Penny breaking her arm."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"It's all relative."

Lynette gave a noncommittal grunt and downed a large gulp of wine. The what if scenarios lurking in the back of her mind threatened to get the better of her, and the faster she found something to block them out, the better. It was nights like this one that made her think she'd be better off never entrusting her kids to anyone else.

"You know I'm letting you break one of our date night rules."

"Huh?"

"Talking about the kids," Tom clarified as he polished off his glass of wine and reached for a slice of pizza. "We agreed that on the rare occasion we get the night to ourselves, we'd leave the kids out of it."

"I hate to remind you, but date night ended the minute we discovered our baby was out with us."

"What do you think this is?"

"What what is?"

Tom made a wide gesture with his arm, encompassing the entire room into his statement. "This."

"You know this doesn't really count as a date."

"Why not?"

Lynette raised an eyebrow, daring him to actually make her explain, but he simply met her gaze with an open, questioning expression. Exasperated, she tossed the crust of the pizza into the box and turned her body toward Tom. "Well for one thing I'm in my pajamas."

"Yeah, you know that is weird. Somehow I missed the step between the sexy little dress and the sleepwear. And that's my favorite part."

"Tom—"

"Not that we can't backtrack."

"You know we're also at home. And three of our five children are here."

"We're alone right now."

"Right now could be a matter of minutes."

"I paid Parker twenty bucks to keep the baby monitor with him." He grinned as he refilled her wine glass, clearly sure that he was winning this debate. She wasn't sure how he didn't realize that she was the one who was right. "What else you got, Lindquist?"

"This isn't a date!"

"You and me, dinner, wine, and we're already in bed together. That is my definition of a date, babe."

"My definition usually includes leaving the house."

"We did leave the house."

"Ten minutes at a restaurant doesn't count."

"Sure it does."

Lynette shook her head, trying and failing to ignore the cocky look in Tom's eyes. He was enjoying this. "On no planet does that count as a date," she said pointedly. "And neither does this."

"I think you've forgotten the broader definition of date night," said Tom cheerfully. "The one that includes a ten-month-old."

"I think your sense of romance is dead."

"I could say the same for you. Can't you just be happy with the fact that we have two teenagers who would much rather pretend that they don't even have parents and are easily plied with money? I mean, we're talking a good hour or two to ourselves here."

"Hmm."

Taking her lack of response as a weakening, Tom shifted closer to her, taking her wine glass and setting it on the nightstand before he leaned in to start kissing her neck. He always made it impossible for her to argue when he brushed his lips against her like that. It wasn't fair.

"If you're really disappointed," he murmured, "I can make it up to you."

"You'll find a credible babysitter so we can try this again next week?"

Tom tugged her shirt up over her head, running his fingers down her sides; the sensation made the hair on the back of her neck rise. Lazily, his tongue trailed a path from her neck down her chest as he mumbled, "Well that too."

Lynette found she couldn't dispute that kind of a deal.