Disclaimer: It's not mine. Nope. Not at all.

A/n: In my timeline, this would have been the February before season five started (my five year jump happens a little bit later than it would have happened in real time). As the chapter that inspired me to write this fic, I hope you guys enjoy. Please let me know what you think.

-Ryeloza

A Week of Valentines

A story by Ryeloza

Chapter Two: Friday

Friday, February 14, 2014

For the tenth time that day, Tom pulled out the tickets he'd purchased from his jacket pocket and just held them for a moment, a physical reminder that they actually existed. It was unusual for him to be so insecure, but he'd gotten it into his head that this Valentine's Day had to be perfect, and that kind of expectation led to anxiety. It wasn't just past experience working against him—a credo of the higher he aimed, the harder he fell—but also a colossal mistake. Their last anniversary had been nothing short of disastrous.

At the time, Tom really hadn't been convinced that the whole thing was his fault. After sixteen years, he'd been tired of being the one to always plan the big romantic gesture. His way of thinking had been somewhere along line of: "If she wants romance, then it's her turn to create it." Part of him still thought he wasn't entirely wrong, but he realized now that he might have gone too far the other way. In fact, getting her a card and then sitting around all day on the computer might have been a bit extreme. That was why he had to make it up to her now; he owed her.

The evening was planned down to a science. They'd agreed to ship the kids off to various friends' houses for the night, but Lynette had no idea that it was for anything more than a quiet night at home. Instead, they'd start with the dinner he'd just picked up from that little Italian place she liked—an illusion that this was his only surprise—and then afterwards he'd spring the tickets on her. Two seats at a revival movie house for The Philadelphia Story, the first movie they'd ever watched together. She was going to be blown away.

Tucking the tickets back into his jacket, Tom tapped out an anxious beat on the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so eager to get home; he'd honestly forgotten how much fun it was to surprise her. That delighted grin she'd get that would light up her whole face; that sparkle in her eye; the way she looked at him like he was the only guy in the world. Those were the reasons he loved being romantic; she never failed to be impressed.

After the last few minutes of the drive stretched out interminably, Tom finally pulled into his driveway and shut off the car. Maneuvering took a bit of finesse—he had his briefcase, flowers and dinner to carry inside—but he finally managed to get out of the car without dropping a single thing. Distractedly, he kicked the door shut and headed into the house, but the second he stepped inside, he stopped short.

All of the lights in the house were off, but Lynette had lit candles—more than he even knew they owned. They lined the stairs as a flickering pathway to follow, and like a moth to the flame, Tom dropped everything in his hands right where he stood and walked toward the light. He hadn't gone more than a step when something crunched under his foot; curious, he looked down and saw the powdered remains of something white on the floor, almost as though he'd stepped on a piece of chalk. Glancing ahead, he noticed a piece of candy sitting in his path just another foot ahead, and he reached down to pick it up. It was one of those chalky, candy hearts—the ones with the little phrases written on them. The one he held was pink with the words "Be mine" etched onto it. With a delighted shake of his head, Tom grinned.

Apparently, he hadn't been the only one with a plan.

Everything else forgotten, Tom started up the stairs, careful not to tread on any more of the candies. The candles and hearts guided him all the way up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom. Inside, he found a world entirely alit with more candlelight; they were everywhere—the dresser, the nightstands, the floor. Soft music was playing as well, but to his surprise, Lynette was nowhere in sight. It took him a moment to realize that his candy trail hadn't ended; the hearts continued straight from their bedroom into the bathroom, and Tom didn't hesitate to finish the journey.

The bathroom was as exquisitely lit at the bedroom, but Tom didn't bother to admire a thing except his wife. Lynette lay in their bathtub, arms hooked over the side, watching him with a sweet, seductive smile. Instantly his heart sped up, but before he could say a word, she opened her mouth and set one last candy heart on the tip of her tongue. Tom swallowed hard—his whole being seemed to be lost in watching her—and it was a long moment before he was finally able to move. Everything seemed to slow down: he walked toward her, dropping to his knees and cupping her face in his hands, and for a few seconds, he just stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. He wanted to burn this image into his brain to keep with him forever; a never-ending picture that he could replay over and over for the rest of his life.

When he finally kissed her, fireworks exploded.

Several minutes passed before Tom finally pulled back to stare at her again. Already she looked satiated, like his kisses had been enough to sustain her for a lifetime. He wondered if she knew that he'd never get enough of her—not in ten lifetimes.

"Hi," she said quietly. Her voice made his head swim. "I've been waiting for you."

"I can see that." He glanced around the room, impressed all over again by the amount of effort she'd put into this. It was unbelievable how she'd taken something so simple and made it everything, but then, that was her. She made the mundane incredible on a daily basis. "This is…amazing."

"You like it?"

"I love it. I love you."

Lynette smiled and leaned forward to peck his lips again. "I love you too."

"You know you didn't have to—"

"I know." She gave a tiny shrug and bit her lip for a moment, almost as though she was contemplating something. Hesitantly, she added, "But…Well…"

"Yeah?"

"You remember last year when you basically blew off our anniversary?"

Tom's stomach plummeted; he so desperately didn't want that day to ruin this. Not now; not when the whole world seemed perfect. "Lynette, I—"

With one gentle finger pressed to his lips, she silenced him. Slowly, her gaze drifted from his mouth to his eyes, holding him captive in that way only she'd ever been allowed to. "That day you told me that you were tired of all the big romantic gestures being left up to you. And, well, don't get me wrong, you still made a mess of that day, but I've been thinking that maybe you were right. Maybe I do leave a lot of the romance to you." She smiled, moving her hand to cup his cheek; it took all of his willpower not to reach out and touch her bare skin. With a slight shrug—one that tried so hard to cover the tentative anxiousness in her eyes with nonchalance—she quietly added, "This is my way of making it up to you."

Tom leaned forward to kiss her again as her hand trailed to the back of his neck; water dripped down his shirt, but he didn't care. He also didn't care about the tickets that were going to go to waste or the expensive dinner waiting downstairs that they'd have to reheat. This moment was too perfect. He sighed contentedly and gave her another quick kiss. "I think I'm the one who owes you."

"No."

"Yeah. Because without you…" He pulled back so he could look at her again—her soft smile, the curve of her neck, the warmth in her eyes. Sometimes it hurt to love her this much. "Without you my life would be meaningless. Without you I wouldn't have anything. So, yeah, I'd say I owe you everything."

Lynette pressed her lips together the way she always did when she was fighting emotion, and she tilted her head to the side, looking at him fondly. "I have a way you can pay me back," she said coyly. Without trying, his face broke into a grin.

"I thought you might."

"Get naked and then get in this tub. I think you can take it from there."

"Whatever you say, gorgeous." Leaning forward, he kissed her again, his hands going straight to the buttons of his shirt. At this point, he couldn't get undressed quickly enough, and judging by the look on Lynette's face, she felt the same way. Soon his clothes lay in a pile on the floor, and he eased himself into the bathtub behind her, finally touching her, finally feeling her silky body against his. He reached forward and laced their fingers together as Lynette turned her head to kiss him.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

Tom could only keep kissing her in response.