Sitting in the hospital room, Rex glared at his wife. "I can't believe you tried to kill me."
Bree Van deKamp considered her husband carefully; "Yes, well I feel badly about that. I told you, Mrs. Hubert came over and I got distracted. It was a mistake."
"Since when do you make mistakes?"
Bree laughed nervously; "What's that supposed to mean?"
Taking a deep breath, Rex felt the last few years of repressed emotions spew forth in an ugly regurgitation of hatred directed towards his wife. "It means I'm sick of you being so damned perfect all the time. I'm sick of the bizarre way your hair doesn't move. I'm sick of you making the bed in the morning before I've even used the bathroom!"
Bree looked on as her smile melted into disbelief at the venom that oozed from Rex's angry mouth. "You're just this plastic suburban housewife with her pearls and her spatula who says things like 'we owe the Hendersons a dinner'. Where's the woman I fell in love with? Who used to burn the toast…drink milk out of the carton… and laugh? I need her. Not this cold, perfect thing you've become."
As Rex shut his mouth to take a breath, Bree shook herself out of the tunnel vision she'd been given as each word uttered from Rex's lips tore through her like a shard of glass cutting away at the impression she'd had of her marriage. Standing abruptly, she scooped up a nearby vase of flowers and replied with a swift - "These need water" - before disappearing around the corner.
Turning on the faucet, Bree let the running water drowned out the inevitable gasps as she tried to sob quietly. Pressing her hand to her gaping mouth in an effort to further stifle the horrible noise the newly ripped hole in her heart made, Bree stared at herself in the mirror. The reflection spat back a woman who was falling to pieces; who kept it together on a very thin thread in order to continue the façade of perfection. The mirror betrayed the ugly truth; Bree had become someone so far removed from herself she didn't even recognize the face staring back at her.
She couldn't remember ever thinking it appropriate to drink milk out of the carton, much less doing so herself and yet if she concentrated she had vague recollections of a time where she had burnt the toast; a time where her kitchen had been full of laughter.
Bree Mason had been one of "those girls"; the sort everyone envied. She came from a well to do family, was blessed with model-worthy features, scored high on her SATs and above all, was compassionate and kind to any who crossed her path. The head cheerleader to their school's star quarterback, Bree seemed to have it all and more. Rex Van deKamp knew he didn't stand a chance and yet, the day he clumsily dropped his chemistry book and Bree stooped down to pick it up for him, was the day he knew his luck had changed.
"Uh…thanks. I'm Rex Van deKamp." Trying to recover from the embarrassing book incident, Rex leaned casually against the lockers and eyed Bree as if he weren't interested whatsoever.
Bree smiled beguilingly, as she was wont to do without forethought, and patted Rex's arm. "Nice to meet you Rex Van deKamp. I'm Bree. Mason." Her smile could make a man think he was the only person in the entire universe and Rex thought just that.
Rex rushed forward with awkward small talk in order to keep Bree in his personal space; "So…umm… chemistry! Do you take chem.? Mr. Dugas is a total hard ass." Rex shifted his books against his hip and tried to look cool and casual, he feared he was failing miserably.
Bree was amused at this boy's antics and how he stumbled over the words 'hard ass' as if he had been debating on whether or not to swear in front of her. "I had Dugas last year; he's a strict but fair teacher. Give him a chance; I'm sure you'll warm up to him."
The bell rang and Bree smiled with a lazy wave as she pushed off the lockers and headed towards class. Rex turned and watched her saunter down the hall, admiring the way her hair was cascading down her back in curly crimson mass. He wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through those messy tendrils; he wondered, too, how Bree's taut form would feel pressed against his. Cursing his adolescence and the ease with which such thoughts betrayed themselves; Rex held his books in front of him and wandered slowly to class.
Sitting in Math class, Bree Mason found her mind wandering out the half-opened window to weave in and out of the trees and inevitably coming back to rest on Rex Van deKamp. He had a rugged sort of charm and she'd found his discomfort endearing. Twisting the promise ring around her middle finger on her left hand, Bree thought of Ty Grant – the boy she'd been seeing for the past two months.
Ty Grant was nothing like Rex; blonde, blue-eyed and buff, Ty oozed confidence in his abilities both on the football field and in the backseat of his chair. Bree had gone only as far as allowing him to unbutton her blouse in the backseat of that car, but she had heard the gossip and knew the rumours. Ty was infamous for his "way with the ladies"; he was also infamous for the front he wore for her parents. They thought he was the perfect gentleman – and he was, but there was something lacking.
Bree hadn't been able to put her finger on it until her interaction with Rex, but what was missing in her relationship with Ty Grant was passion; an ardent, all consuming, heart stopping passion. Ty had it all, the football scholarship, the solid background, the respectable family, and the good looks. Bree's family had been ecstatic when she'd introduced them and, at the time, she had been too.
So why couldn't she get Rex Van deKamp out of her head?
"Ty, that's enough." Bree Mason was pinned between Ty Grant and the slick leather interior of his backseat. Ty had pushed her skirt up around her hips and was presently trying to undo his pants and pull down her underwear simultaneously.
"Oh c'mon babe. We've been dating for months now. You're wearing that ring I gave ya. C'mon." Ty managed to undo his pants and shove them down around his knees before returning his attention to Bree's cotton panties.
Struggling beneath him, Bree frowned and, looking at the hunger in his face, grew suddenly afraid that her 'no' wasn't going to be enough to stop Ty from getting what he wanted. "Ty Grant. Get off of me. Right now!" Bree screamed and reached up to violently connect the palm of her hand with the side of his face. The sound of the slap resounded in the small space and Ty rocked slightly on the seat, his cheek rouging and his eyes turning cold and hard.
"You little bitch! You flaunt that beautiful face of yours all over the school, hanging off of me when we're around people then acting all proper and cold when we're alone. What the hell did you think I wanted from you? A white picket fence and babies?" Ty scoffed and Bree's blood turned cold as he caught her wrists in an iron grip. "No, Bree Mason, all I wanted from the moment I saw you was to be the one who finally conquered the Ice Queen."
Bree could feel Ty's rigid phallus awkwardly jabbing at her thigh as she squirmed under him, making herself a near impossible target. But Ty was the quarterback of their football team, he was strong and when he reached down with one hand, grabbed her underwear and tore it from her, there was nothing she could do but scream and thrash about. Then, she went limp, her tear stained face stared up at the ceiling of the car as she lay there unmoving.
Ty watched her warily for a moment, then smiled slowly and moved to thrust into her; waiting for just the right moment, Bree brought her knee up swiftly and grunted with the force of it driving between Ty's legs. With a howl, Ty fell sideways, wedged between the front and back seats, whimpering and gasping in pain. Bree scrambled out from under him, fumbling with the car door before it opened and she spilled out onto the ground. Digging her fingers into the dirt as if to gain strength from the earth, Bree got to her feet quickly and started to run, sobbing.
Crouched in the back seat, his hands pressed in an almost demure gesture, between his legs, Ty Grant watched Bree Mason run away. "Fuck." He muttered to himself, cursing his stupidity and the inevitable backlash he would face the next day. Gathering himself together, he freed the emergency brake and drove off slowly.
Sobbing uncontrollably, Bree ran until her lungs burned and she was forced to stop. Falling onto a nearby park bench, Bree gasped heavily, fighting to get back her breath and wrapping her sweater tighter around her. Her knees were scratched and spotted with dirt from her hasty retreat. Her mascara tattooed her cheeks and she wiped at it in vain. Shivering, she ran her fingers through her hair, tucking errand strands behind her ear, and got up to walk home.
Singing along with the radio, Rex Van deKamp turned the corner in his midnight blue Camaro drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. His obsessive love of Madonna had always been a secret but the plethora of tapes in his glove compartment would hasten to give it away to any who bothered to look. As he head banged along to "Like a Virgin", something on the side of the road caught his eye. Turning down the music and rolling down his window, he called out; "Bree?"
Gasping, Bree jumped and looked at the stranger calling to her from the dark Camaro. Bree hadn't talked to Rex since she'd picked up his chemistry book for him a few weeks ago. She'd decided to keep her distance in fairness to Ty and the feelings she had felt for Rex the moment their eyes had met. Now, here he was, driving up on his motorized stallion in his metaphorical armour to save the day. Brushing at her face again, Bree stopped and tried to find a smile but if she'd managed on her face, it certainly didn't reach her eyes.
"Jesus Bree!" Rex parked the car, put on the hazard lights and got quickly out of the car. "Are you alright?"
His hands were warm on her arms and Bree had to fight the urge to melt against him in a weeping pile of fear and anxiety. Instead, she tried that smile again and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine… umm… just a little lost."
Rex eyed the redhead with a thoughtful frown, deciding it would be best to allow the girl her privacy; he led her around to the passenger seat and opened the door for her. "I'll take you home."
"Thanks." Bree stared out through the windshield, crossing her arms around herself and keeping her knees together firmly. Her head fell back against the seat as she remembered her purse was back in Ty's car; she didn't want her mother seeing her like this so she turned to Rex with an imploring gaze. "Rex, I can't go home right now. Could I….stay with you?"
On any other night Rex would have been ecstatic to hear those words coming from Bree Mason's mouth, but tonight they brought up only concern. He nodded, casting a glance at her; "Of course."
Stealing into his place through the backdoor, Rex pulled Bree up the stairs by her hand and closed the door to his room behind them. Looking at her dirt smeared clothes, he pulled a long t-shirt out of the nearest drawer; "Want to sleep in this?"
Bree looked around and noted the tasteful decorating she assumed Rex's mother had forced him to endure. The obviously careful choice of blue painted on the walls, the crisp white of the trim around the windows, the old fashioned picture of a sailboat - a room for a little boy all grown up. Rex's touch was evident in the sports posters strewn haphazardly on the walls and, she noted with a touch of amusement, the large glossy photo of Madonna tacked to his corkboard. She had to smile, it was endearing. Taking the t-shirt offering and holding it against her chest as if it were a lifeline, Bree leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Rex's cheek. "Thank you, Rex Van deKamp."
Five minutes later, Bree had washed her face and changed into Rex's oversized t-shirt. She'd given some attention to her knees as well and a few of the cuts had bled enough that she'd made use of the Band-Aids she'd found in the medicine cabinet. Rex had pulled out a sleeping bag and was curled up on the floor next to the bed. "You can have the bed, Bree."
With a shy smile, Bree climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up around her. After a few silent moments, she peeked over the edge of the bed at Rex who had his arms crossed under his head. "Rex?"
"Hmm?" He looked up at her.
"Will you come up here? I'd really appreciate it." She murmured softly, aware that a heated blush was painting her cheeks the same colour as her hair.
"Sure." Rex slowly untangled himself from the sleeping bag, got into bed next to Bree and awkwardly laid there as she snuggled up to him and pulled his arm around her. He tensed for a moment before finally relaxing, closing his eyes against the tickle of her hair against his skin and ventured so far as to kiss her chastely on the head. "Goodnight Bree."
Bree Mason answered with a snuffled snort indicating she'd already fallen asleep in his arms.
Out of respect for Bree, Rex Van deKamp had kept a polite distance since the night he'd found her wandering the streets and though he'd thought of her often, Ty Grant was still hanging around glaring at Rex as he tried to talk to Bree at her locker. Tonight, Rex was preparing for the speech he'd be making at the Republican meeting the next day, going over his notes and setting out his outfit for the next day. He's always found politics fascinating and it had become one of his passions.
Much to his surprise, the next day Bree Mason stepped up after his address to compliment him on the eloquence of his lecture. Looking down at the redhead, Rex was in awe of how many facets there were to Bree. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been dirty and vulnerable. Now, she seemed in total control with every hair in place and collared shirt ironed perfectly. Shaking his head, Rex took a chance and invited her for dinner.
"I'd love to." Bree smiled beguilingly, glancing over her shoulder to glare at Ty as he looked on. Turning, she linked arms with Rex and headed to his car.
Rex took her to a nearby diner, making the excuse that they had the best burgers in town. They both ordered one. Bree licked mustard from between her fingers and laughed as a blob of ketchup inevitably found its way to the front of Rex's blazer. Reaching between the milkshakes and mountain of fries, she dabbed at the stain with a napkin and cursed the day she'd begun ignoring her mother when she told her the finer details of housekeeping.
They talked for hours, joking about the milkshake headrushes and bloated french fry tummies they were getting. Finally, the kitchen stopped serving food and they ordered cup after horrible-tasting cup of diner coffee until Bree's yawning signaled that it was time to go home.
At the entrance to her dorm, Bree turned to Rex and smiled. "I've had a lovely evening, Rex. Thank you." Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as he stroked hers.
"Can I see you again?" Rex pulled away breathlessly to hold her gaze, watching the uncertainty flicker there for a moment before her resolved steeled against any doubts she might have had and she nodded.
"Call me sometime." With a smile, Bree pulled a pen from her purse, grabbed Rex's hand and wrote her number on his palm with a flourish. Then she opened the door and with a wave, headed down the path. Rex grinned down at his palm, already memorizing the digits inked on his flesh as if they had been tattooed on his heart. With a triumphant whoop, he watched until Bree was safely inside and then drove away.
Bree let out a loud sigh as she walked back towards her room, leaning against the doorframe she closed her eyes and pictured Rex. Her mouth formed the words that whispered dreamily from her lips; "Bree Van deKamp."
The fridge light tossed Bree's silhouette against the kitchen counters; she stood there indecisively in nothing but a tank top and undies. Grabbing the milk carton, she opened the spout and poured the icy liquid into her mouth as she eyed the midnight snack possibilities.
"Well, you don't say….!" Rex interrupted her mid-gulp and she choked on the milk, her eyes wide. "I would never have pegged you for the drinking-out-of-the-carton type, Bree Mason." Rex looked amused as he leaned against the doorframe in his boxers.
Much to Bree's parents' chagrin, Bree had started formally dating Rex Van deKamp a month after the night at the diner. Now, it was several months later, they had moved in together and were nearing graduation. Bree was desperately hoping the end of college would mean the beginning of their life together but Rex had yet to ask for her had in marriage. Every time Bree went home, her parents argued that Ty Grant had been a much better choice and why had she ended things with that boy? Bree would never tell them what had happened between Ty and herself; she hadn't even told Rex, so she just rolled her eyes and told them Rex was her man.
Bree giggled and put the carton back in the fridge, closing the door with her hip as she wiped milk from her mouth with the back of her hand and walked into the circle of Rex's arms. "Oh, there's a lot about me you never would have pegged." Leaning up, she pressed her mouth against his and as their tongues danced hurriedly, her hand slid down his boxers.
A bit breathless as Bree teased him, Rex murmured against her mouth, "So what you're telling me is we don't have any food in the fridge?" Bree growled and slapped her hand against Rex's chest.
"You're always thinking with your stomach!" Pulling away, she wiggled her hips back towards the bedroom. Her fingers curled around the bottom of her tank top and she pulled it off, tossing it over her shoulder at him. "Am I not a good enough midnight snack?" Arching her brow, Bree's hands caressed her flanks and hooked into her boy shorts, yanking them down as she bent over and stepped out of them. Her hair flew in a tangled crimson mass around her face as she tossed it aside and turned to face Rex.
With a groan, Rex's eyes traveled the length of Bree's languid form. Every inch of her begging to be touched, licked, bitten. It took all of his self-control to stay against that wall and see where she would take him. He watched as her eyes narrowed and she stalked back towards him.
"I don't think you've ever complained…" Her voice lowered to a sultry honeyed tease as she grabbed his hand and thrust it between her legs, he felt his cock twitch at the warm liquid silk he found there. "…about how I've tasted before." With those words, she brought his fingers to her mouth and sucked her juices from them.
Her lewd behaviour had his boxers pooled around his feet in a matter of seconds as Rex grabbed her around the waist with a growl. Bree squealed triumphantly as he shoved her up onto the counter and guided his stiff cock into her. The coffee pot handle was jabbing into the small of her back and the height of the counter forced her neck at an awkward angle but Bree Mason ignored all of those factors as she stared into Rex's impassioned gaze and curled her legs tightly around him.
Rex thrust himself violently into Bree, encouraged by her gyrating hips and the deep feral moans that broke loose between her lips. Then, taking her by surprise, Rex hoisted her up into his arms and carried her to the kitchen table where he laid her down on top of the newspapers and tax receipts. Reaching up, over her head, he held onto the edge of the table and used it as leverage to pull himself deeper into her. Bree gasped and cried out loudly, her eyes screwed shut as she was torridly fucked on her grandmother's antique oak wood table. Her nails dug into Rex's shoulders as her heels found purchase on the wood and she fucked back, riding Rex for all he was worth.
Her orgasm caught her off guard, she bucked wildly to catch up to it and her flailing arm crashed a coffee cup to the ground; Bree Mason barely blinked an eye as a dark brown stain grew cold amongst shards of porcelain on the linoleum floor. Spent, Rex scooped Bree up into his arms and as she giggled with a bit of a protest, he carried her over the threshold of their bedroom. Leaning her head against his still heaving chest, Bree closed her eyes, feeling loved and protected for the first time in her life.
Skyline Drive was one of those streets that curved around main streets and ended overlooking the city. It was a street straight out of the movies and Bree knew the moment Rex turned onto it that it was going to be a special evening. The sun had begun its descent only moments before and the smattering of rose melting in with the burnished gold and fiery orange cast a watercolour painting-like feel to the sky.
Bree smiled as Rex smoothed a blanket out on the grassy hill and helped her onto it. Removing her shoes as Rex pulled a bottle of apple wine out from the car along with some glasses, Bree pulled her cardigan around her and stared out at the landscape before her. With a happy sigh, she accepted the glass of golden liquid and clinked it with Rex's before taking a long sip and leaning against him.
Their first glass of wine took them through conversations of what sort of life they wanted, where they'd most like to live, how many children they wished to have. They covered politics, religion, baby names and the sort of china pattern they found appealing. Bree felt her heart swell with the imminent possibility of Rex's proposal of marriage.
The second glass nearly finish, had Rex's mouth on Bree's neck and Bree turning within the circle of his arms begging him to make love to her in the glowing shadow of the rising moon. Tenderly, Rex laid Bree down on the blanket and slowly opened her cardigan running his fingers along her naked flesh as she watched him with ardent eyes. His kisses set her afire as they torched their way down her body, dropping flames of desire along her cleavage, her belly, the tops of her thighs. Bree moaned with unbridled passion and reached down to hike her skirt up around her waist and wiggle out of her panties.
"Please Rex." Her mouth open breathlessly, Bree watched as Rex hurriedly undid his pants and pushed them down around his knees before grabbing him around the neck and pulling him on top of her.
Teasingly, Rex slid his hand between Bree's thighs and stroked her slick entrance. Groaning as she writhed beneath him, Bree begged him with her wet mouth to make love to her. Strumming his fingers against her throbbing clit, Rex pressed his cock against her and paused for a moment. Dipping down, he stole her breath with a fierce kiss and as her hands tangled in his hair, Rex drove his phallus deeply into her.
The round moon was a blinding spotlight on the two as they moved together in an age old tango, piercing through the shadows to illuminate them as they fumbled with lips and fingers, mouths and hips. Undulating, Bree waned as Rex waxed and together their howling climaxes signaled the beginning of a full moon. Breaking away from each other with heaving chests and drenched clothing, Rex traced Bree's silhouette against the night sky and reached behind him to hand her the last glass of apple wine.
With a tender smile, Bree pushed a damp tendril from her cheek and took the glass. As she lowered her mouth to take a sip, something glinted at her through the gold; holding the glass up to the moonlight, Bree gasped at the diamond ring winking at her through the crystal. Her gaze flew up to Rex as he grinned with that irresistible boyish charm of his.
"If you marry me Bree Mason…."
Bree lay awake reliving the beginning of her life with Rex; her memories tugging painfully at her heart. How had she changed so drastically from that carefree college graduate who had drunk from the milk carton and burnt the toast? How had she turned into her mother? When had it happened and how had she not noticed? Turning her head, Bree Van deKamp looked at the string of pearls that lay in waiting for her and felt tears come to her eyes. Eighteen years of marriage had turned her into a cold shadow of her former self and it was no one's fault but her own.
Brushing hastily at the tears that threatened once more, Bree took a deep breath and tossed back the covers resolutely. Wrapping her robe tightly around her, she stalked down the stairs and into the living room to stand over Rex as he tried to sleep.
Watching Rex for a brief moment, Bree could remember the exact moment he proposed and just how thrilled she'd been. How loud her heart had sung. "I have a question for you."
Rex pulled the covers back and slowly sat up, looking at his wife; "Okay."
"Do you remember when you proposed?" Bree crossed her arms, determined not to show the emotion that threatened to cause a quiver in her voice.
Exasperated, Rex growled his response with a gratuitous roll of his eyes; "Oh for god's sake - "
Cutting him off, Bree hurried on. "We sat on Skyline Drive and drank a bottle of apple wine and when we finished it you turn to me and you said, 'If you marry me Bree Mason, I promise to love you for the rest of my life' and even though my father didn't like you, I said yes." Desperately, Bree's eyes implored Rex to go back there with her. To feel those emotions again, to relive the moments in their life when they hadn't been too busy misunderstanding each other to see their love for just how simple it really was.
"That was a long time ago."
Bree hadn't realized just how disappointing six words could be but the look on Rex's face only propelled her further to her earlier conclusion. Her mouth was set in a hard line as she laid her demand out for Rex; "You are going to cancel your meeting with that divorce lawyer and we're going to find ourselves a marriage counselor."
"Bree - " Rex began to protest but Bree cut him off.
"You promised!"
Rex took a moment to look at his wife, truly look at her and he saw the glossiness of unshed tears hovering just below the surface of those green eyes. He recognized the beat of her heart as she placed it on her sleeve and held it out to him so Rex Van deKamp relented with a nod; "All right."
With a slow nod, careful not to dislodge any of the tears she'd been keeping so well under wraps, Bree turned and headed back towards the stairs. Her nails denting half-moons into the flesh of her palms with the effort it took to straighten her spine and walk calmly back to bed. Once there she fell into a sobbing heap, curling her small frame around Rex's pillow as she tried desperately to turn back time and transport herself back to Skyline Drive and that bottle of apple wine.