Disclaimer: Not mine!

A/n: Real-life threw me off track with the updates, but I'm back now and hopefully this week will go more smoothly. Thanks for all the great feedback on this last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one just as much.

The Hour Shadows Disappear

A story by Ryeloza

Part Ten: Innocence

Robbed

As Tom headed out the door, Lynette gave him a perfunctorily chaste kiss that he barely noticed in his rush. She had a to-do list that was a mile long, but her mind was otherwise occupied, pondering the mysterious knocking and the puzzling question of just who their new neighbor was. In a world full of mights and maybes, not one solution came to Lynette's mind except to push her boundaries and see what happened; so once Tom was gone, she promptly showered and dressed and then marched out of the apartment and down the hall to their neighbor's door. Lynette knocked as loudly and obnoxiously as she could and only had to wait a few seconds before the door opened.

To her surprise, the new neighbor wasn't the crotchety old woman she'd pictured in her mind, but instead a balding middle-aged man who was drinking a beer even though it was only nine in the morning. Lynette faltered for just a moment, and then, without the slightest rational thought for how this could be entirely the wrong direction to take with her new neighbor, she launched into the speech she'd prepared in the shower. "Hi, I'm Lynette Lindquist, my fiancé and I are moving into the apartment next door. Were you—"

"Oh, so you're the bobcat who was screeching her head off this morning." He looked her up and down appraisingly and Lynette crossed her arms. "Funny, I pictured you as a brunette."

"Look, let's just cut to the chase—"

"Not that it matters. In fact, I'd say blond is better. That's natural, ain't it?"

Lynette didn't answer, trying desperately not to show how uncomfortable she felt and suddenly wishing for the wonderful little old lady she'd pictured. She rushed back into her planned speech: "You were obviously knocking on the wall this morning and that's—"

"No I wasn't. That was my wife. She was pissed as hell about all the noise you were making this morning. Cursing out you and Peter for subletting the place to you. She liked Peter 'cause he never brought anyone home. Whoever he was getting it from it all happened somewhere else, the bastard. Wait 'til I tell her you're engaged and we'll be hearin' it regular. She'll flip her lid."

"I—"

"You're not into gags or anything like that, are ya?" He took a sip of beer as his eyes went straight to her mouth. "Don't get me wrong, the visual's great, but if this is gonna work for me it's gonna to have to keep being an auditory thing. Maybe tonight you could have him slam you into the wall while he's fucking your pretty little brains out."

"You're disgusting," Lynette said, finally effectively cutting him off. "Stay away from me, stay away from my fiancé, stay away from my apartment and buy some ear plugs!"

Lynette abruptly turned to walk the short distance back to her apartment, but she could hear the man half-laughing, half-coughing behind her and the sound only made her increase her pace. Once she was inside she locked and dead bolted the door, but she couldn't relax. The apartment felt claustrophobic and after just a few minutes, Lynette grabbed her purse and keys and headed out to get her grocery shopping done, grateful that the stairs were right outside her door.

Purposeful

The moment she heard Tom's key turn in the lock that night, Lynette bounded toward the door to undo the deadbolt—which she'd kept firmly in place ever since returning from the market—and practically pulled Tom into the apartment. The feeling of uneasiness that had haunted her after her confrontation this morning had mostly faded, but she would never be foolish enough to keep that door unlocked, even when she was at home.

"Nice to see you too," said Tom as Lynette immediately reset the locks after ushering him inside. Once they were in place she turned and gave him a quick peck.

"Hi. Dinner is almost ready."

"Okay." Tom caught her arm as she passed him, turning her and kissing her properly. For a moment, she tensed, but when Tom pulled away to look down at her with crushingly loving eyes she felt a sigh of relief finally rush from her body and she relaxed. "Hi," he said softly. He moved forward to kiss her again, but Lynette ducked her head, wrapping her arms around him tightly and pressing her ear against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. It took Tom only a second to recalibrate and return the embrace; his hands ran soothing circles up and down her back. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right or secure.

"Are you okay?" asked Tom.

"Yeah. Fine." She pulled back and gave him what she was sure was a less-than-convincing smile, but it was the best she could manage. "Let's eat."

"Lynette…"

"Tom. Really." Lynette ran a hand down his chest, following its progress with her eyes so she didn't have to look at him. "Everything is fine." She turned and walked toward the tiny kitchen, sure that Tom didn't believe her, but grateful that he didn't push her further.

Returned

Over the next few days, life got back to normal and the horrible Monday faded from Lynette's conscious mind. They ended up at her apartment, tipsy and laughing, on New Year's Eve and celebrated the first day of the new year by sleeping late and watching a Twilight Zone marathon on television. After that it became fairly commonplace to start coming to her apartment again; the new one had such a feeling of incompleteness that it was simply more comfortable to stay in hers, and Lynette had the built-in excuse of needing to start to pack that kept both of them there guilt-free. It was a well-deserved avoidance of the cage they'd built themselves.

Meanwhile, Lynette scheduled one appointment after another for various wedding plans and by the third week of January they had everything set and booked for March eighth. The last thing she had to do was to pick up the wedding invitations, which she did one rainy Wednesday night after leaving work, arriving at her darkened apartment wet and cold and to an insistently ringing telephone. Lynette flicked on the lights and dropped the box of invitations on her couch, dancing around the various half-packed boxes in her living room to reach the phone.

"Hello," she said, slightly breathlessly.

"Hey, sweetie, it's me." Lynette smiled, but only for a second as the next words out of Tom's mouth made her roll her eyes. "Where have you been? I tried you at work and at home twice."

"I had to pick up our wedding invitations." She refrained from mentioning that she'd only told Tom this five times in the past couple of days. "I just got home."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

Lynette bit back a retort and simply asked, "Where are you anyway? It's after seven."

"That's why I'm calling. I'm over at my sister's place. She's having the baby and Shawn's sister is in Bermuda or Jamaica or somewhere, so Christa called and asked me to come up and watch the kids. I'm probably going to be here all night."

"Oh."

"So I'll see you tomorrow."

Lynette sighed and sank down on one of the boxes. "Okay. Yeah. Tomorrow."

"Unless you want to come over and help me babysit. We can put the kids to bed early. Make out on the couch a little."

In spite of herself, Lynette laughed. The statement was absurd enough to make her feel sixteen again, daring to kiss her boyfriend in what seemed, at the time, to be the most inappropriate places. "Are you serious?"

"Sure. It's only a fifteen minute drive. We just ordered a pizza. And this couch sure is big and lonely and just dying to see some action."

"Alright. I'll be over."

"Great. Can you bring me some clothes? Oh, and my toothbrush. I came straight here from work and I don't have anything with me."

"Ah, so all that make-out talk was all an ulterior motive to get me to bring you your stuff."

"It was a bribe. I get my stuff and you get some serious kissing in return."

"Ooh," said Lynette in a teasing tone, but she had already stood and headed into the bedroom to gather their things. "Master negotiator. Will that be kissing with tongue?"

"That'll be kissing without clothes if you want."

"Aren't there children with you?"

"They're glued to this video game. It like the original Super Mario, but better. I can make him fly with a special hat!"

"So the kids are the ones glued to the game, huh?"

"Just get over here. Mario will do a triple jump he'll be so happy to see you."

Lynette laughed again. "That is the worst euphemism I've ever heard. I'll be over in twenty minutes. Bye."

"Bye."

Childlike

Lynette arrived just as Tom was paying the delivery boy and in his excitement to see her he tipped the kid thirty percent without batting an eye. "Hi," he said, kissing her. Lynette dropped the overnight back in the foyer and followed Tom down the hall to the kitchen where he set the pizza on a marble island and called for the kids. "It's plain cheese," he said as she opened the box and he went digging for plates. "The kids won't eat anything else."

There was a thunderstorm of footsteps that Lynette was surprised could come from just two kids, and then the door from the basement burst open and a girl and a boy practically tripped into the kitchen. The girl was older, probably about ten or eleven, and she easily pushed past the smaller boy to get to the table first. The boy barely blinked at this, just scrambling after her as if this was an every day occurrence. Lynette suspected it might be.

The girl noticed her first, gazing at her with frank brown eyes. "Who the heck are you?" she asked, and at her words, the boy turned around in his seat to stare at her too.

"Yeah," he echoed. "Who the heck are you?"

"Laina, Riley," said Tom, setting down plates in front of them, "this is Lynette. Lynette, this is Laina and—"

"I'm Riley. I'm six."

"He's five," corrected Laina with an air of superiority. "He won't be six until March. Are you Uncle Tom's girlfriend?"

"We're getting married, actually," said Lynette, fighting a smile. Despite the fact that Laina seemed to have her father's flair for being a know-it-all, it was more charming in a little girl than a middle-aged man.

"Oh." Laina seemed to absorb this information. "So you'll be our aunt."

"That's right," said Tom. "Aunt Lynette." He grinned at her and Lynette managed a dazed smile back. The title was so foreign that it seemed almost unreal, and she couldn't quite wrap her mind around the idea that she would be an aunt to these little kids. Neither of her sisters had ever expressed an open intent to have children, and so the concept was one that Lynette had never given much consideration.

"I already have two aunts," said Riley. "What do I need another for?"

"Aunt Erin has a pool. Do you have a pool?"

"No."

"Oh." Laina shrugged. "How about a cat? I want a cat, but Mom's allergic, so we can't have one."

"I'm allergic too," said Tom dolling out pizza to both kids. "So no cats for us."

"I have a fish named Tubs," said Riley, who still hadn't turned away from her, even with the promise of pizza in front of him. Lynette made it easier by walking over to the table and sitting down next to Laina, across from Riley. He tracked her movement until she sat down. "Do you wanna see him?"

"After dinner," Lynette promised. Riley shrugged and took a huge bite of pizza.

"Do you have any kids?" asked Laina. She stuck up her nose and waved her hand, which held the slice of pizza, dramatically. "I already have thirty bajillion cousins—" Tom held up five fingers to contest this hyperbole, "—and mother is having another baby." Laina sighed. "It's my greatest woe. I detest children."

Lynette pressed her lips together to keep a laugh from escaping. "Your greatest woe," said Tom, shaking his head. "Laina, you like nothing better than being a big sister."

"Riley never does what I say anymore." Riley grinned through a mouthful of pizza; the sight was fairly grotesque. "But I guess a little sister will be better than another boy."

"Sisters can be nice," said Lynette carefully. "I have two sisters."

"Two?" Laina set down her pizza and looked at her thoughtfully. "But are you the oldest? It's not the same if you're not the oldest."

"I am."

"Isn't it such a trial?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lynette could see Tom shaking his head and chuckling, but she simply leaned toward Laina conspiratorially. "Sometimes," she murmured in agreement. "But the secret is that it's still better than being in the middle or the youngest."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Definitely."

"Hmm," said Laina. She turned to Tom. "You can marry her. I approve."

"Whew," said Tom, wiping a hand over his forehead. "Thank goodness. I was worried there for a minute."

Laina giggled, breaking her adult character and turning back into a little girl, and this time Lynette couldn't help but laugh too.

Lost

By the time it came to put the kids to bed, Riley had taken up residence in her lap, and he declared quite brazenly that he wanted Lynette to tuck him in. At this, Laina pouted until they came to an agreement to have both she and Tom tuck in both children. It was a strange routine to follow; reading bedtime stories and listening to Tom sing silly songs and receiving kisses given willingly from the unadulterated love of children. Lynette, who hadn't spent time with kids since she was one, was surprised to find herself fairly at ease, even, daresay, enjoying herself.

When they finally shut Laina's door, Tom put his hands on her shoulders and followed her back downstairs into the living room. He sank onto the couch before she did, threw his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table and patted the empty cushion next to him. He waggled his eyebrows at her and grinned. "Now we can get to the grown-up part of the evening."

Ignoring this, Lynette sat down on the coffee table next to his feet and Tom looked at her puzzled. "What?" he asked.

"You're really good with those kids."

"So are you."

Lynette shook her head. "I held my own. But you, you're a natural."

"You got Laina through the whole night without throwing a tantrum. I've never had that happen when I watch them. So don't be modest."

"Okay," said Lynette, though she wasn't really agreeing with Tom's assessment of her skill, but simply acknowledging his statement. "We seriously need to discuss having kids."

Tom laughed nervously. "What? Now?"

"Why not?"

"Lynette, I'm tired. It's been a long day. All I want to do is make out for awhile and then go to sleep. Is that too much to ask?"

"You always change the subject when I bring this up. Why is that?"

"Because…I don't want to talk about it."

"Because you want kids."

"No."

"I think you do. And I think you don't want to admit it because you're afraid I'm going to say I don't and then we'll actually have to confront the possibility of this huge obstacle."

Tom dropped his feet from the coffee table and leaned forward, grasping her hands in his. "Sweetie, I want whatever you want."

"Don't. Don't do that. I don't want to wake up five years from now to find you suddenly telling me you've changed your mind and you want eight kids, okay? We need to talk about this now."

"Then you start."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You've obviously been thinking about this. What do you want?"

"I—I want…" Lynette trailed off, at a loss for words. The truth was that she hadn't considered what she wanted at all. Mostly, she'd just wanted Tom to admit that he wanted kids so he could enter their marriage with no lies and no regrets. None of that involved wondering what she thought.

She'd never pictured herself with kids, but there hadn't been any reason to consider it because she'd also never been in love like this before. Kids had just been some big, looming concept that didn't concern her, but now…what? She hadn't thought about it. That was the plain and simple truth. She hadn't once considered what it would be like to have an actual child with this actual man in front of her with whom she was going to spend the rest of her life.

"Lynette?"

Lynette stood and resettled herself in Tom's lap. Without a word she began to kiss him, long and hard and distractingly. It didn't take much; before she knew it Tom's hands came to rest on her ass and his tongue was doing marvelously ridiculous things inside of her mouth. She needed time; time to figure out how she felt and what she wanted because, for the first time, she was considering one day, maybe, possibly, having a child with him. She couldn't tell him, of course; not until she'd made up her mind. She was too afraid of raising his hopes with any inkling of a possibility before she'd thought about it carefully.

But, she thought, at the very least she had to figure it out before the wedding.