Title: A Melting Glacier

Author: iridescentZEN

Fandom: Desperate Housewives

Characters: Tom Scavo and Bree Van de Kamp Prompt: 021 Friends

The last thing Tom Scavo expected when the door bell rang was Bree Van de Kamp dropping by for a visit. She was dressed in black, still the grieving widow, and Tom felt a tug of compassion for her.

Most of the men on wisteria lane had agreed that she was ice cold, but he could see the glacier melting. If Tom lost Lynette, he would lose himself.

Still, vulnerability was not something Tom was used to seeing in his neighbor. In a way, he felt like he didn't know her at all.

"Hello, Tom," she said. Her voice lacked cheerfulness, she looked like hell and Tom realized nervously that she was without her usual stoic armor. Without it, Tom mused, he felt like he was seeing her naked. "Bree, hi. Um, Lynette's not home. She took the kids to the mall. I -"

Bree interrupted him, "I'm actually here to see you."

What? Tom was surprised. "You - you are?"

"Mnn hmm," Bree handed him a basket of freshly baked muffins. "These are for you. I'd like to thank you and Lynette both for coming to Rex's funeral."

The smell of fresh blueberry, cinnamon and apple muffins overwhelmed Tom's senses, and his stomach growled in response. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've been rude. Please, come in," he said, moving his arm and allowing her to enter his house.

Bree walked in, and Tom noticed the box in her arms, and how tightly she embraced it.

"Would you like some coffee?"

She seemed surprised by his friendliness. Yes, she had known him for years. And yes, she considered him a friend, but really he was mostly just Lynette's husband, the father of Lynette's unruly but completely adorable children. "I um, brought you something," Bree said, sitting down at the kitchen table. She watched him as he prepared the coffee.

Tom felt slightly uncomfortable, almost like he was getting his morning paper, but Lynette had assured him that there was no way Bree was checking him out because his super sexy status was not quite as high as he thought it was.

Tom was too used to seeing Bree in public settings, among other people or at the very least with Lynette acting as a buffer.

It was hard not to feel awkward.

"What?" he looked back at her from his task, "Why? I mean, these muffins are more than enough. They smell fantastic, and I'm sure they will taste the same. Everything you cook tastes wonderful. It's like you're magic."

Bree's lips formed a small, genuine smile at the compliment.

Finished setting up the coffee, he sat down across the table from her while it began to percolate. "Bree," he began hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tom. I appreciate the concern," she said, embarrassed when tears formed. She didn't allow them to fall. It wasn't his fault that no one else cared. Or that her mother in law was an attention stealing harpy, turning every moment of concern and sympathy into something to do with her. As if Rex was only loved by his mother and his children, and Bree was an unfeeling trophy wife who only caused him pain right up to the day he died. "I got you this. I um ... well I felt just terrible for stealing your tie at Rex's funeral. I had no right to demand that of you, and I'm sorry," she pushed the box across the table. "I implicitly told Phyllis, Rex's mother, that he was not to be buried in his prep school tie. It was orange and green and completely absurd." Bree stared at the table top, unable to look Tom in the eye, "Obviously she went against my wishes." There was a pregnant pause, "I wanted Rex to look magnificent. Your tie was the nicest."

"Oh, Bree, you don't have to be sorry ... I understand," Tom lifted the top of the box off and what he saw surprised him. He couldn't. It was too much. "Bree, you didn't have to do this. This is ..." The box held ten designer ties. Expensive designer ties. The box had to be worth at least a thousand dollars. "It's not right. I can't take this from you. Please, bring them back and get your money back."

"Please, take them. It's a gift," she told him, her hand reaching across the table for his.

Her hand was warm, her touch affectionate, but all he seemed to be able to fixate on was the fact that she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. Lynette told him that Bree threw it in Rex's grave newly unmarked grave because he believed that she murdered him, but Tom didn't believe it - couldn t believe it, until he saw for himself. "You're a friend, Tom."

Their eyes locked, and Tom never noticed how striking her eyes were. In fact, he was pretty sure he never actually took a good look at Bree Van de Kamp at all. It was almost like, because he was married to Lynette, other women often became sisters or mothers to him. Or worse: invisible.

Bree was beautiful.

Tom squeezed her hand affectionately, "We're here for you, Bree. Always. Okay?"

She nodded her head. "I have lunch in the oven." Tom saw the mask fall back into place. "I should get going."

"Are you sure? You haven't even had a cup of coffee."

"I'm sure. Thanks, Tom."

"Anytime, Bree," he stood up to walk her to the door, and before she could leave, he turned her around and hugged her tightly. Initially she tensed, but after a moment she relaxed in his arms. "I'm truly sorry about Rex."

Lynette was so lucky, Bree thought, as Tom hugged her. She let out a choked sob, unable to thank Tom with words. So, she didn't move, just allowed herself to be hugged as if somehow his arms around her would make her well, make her feel better, make her life normal again.

All it did was make Bree miss her husband even more.

End.