Disclaimer: I promise I am not doing this for gain. It's all for fun.

A/n: This is another one for CharadesNinja, who requested a story about Tom recreating his and Lynette's first date. It turned out pretty fluffy, which is a nice break from the angst (at least for me). This takes place during the five year jump (June 2013 to be specific to my timeline).

Please continue to read and review (and request!). This is making these last couple of weeks before my holiday break just fly by, and I'm greatly enjoying it.

-Ryeloza

A Collection

By Ryeloza

Fourteen: Almost Another First Date

Tom had learned the hard way that surprising Lynette was a tricky business. It wasn't as simple as hinting that he had something planned, or asking her to get in the car and let him blindly lead her somewhere, or telling her not to look in the upper left corner of his desk drawer because he had a present hidden away. She just couldn't stop herself from poking around and trying to figure out what was up. Logically, the only solution seemed to be to flat-out lie to her, but since he was a terrible liar, even that had its faults.

In the end, he ended up compromising.

"Let's go out to dinner," he suggested casually. Not a lie—they were going to dinner—but not the entire truth either. He had so much more planned; a need to make this night special that Lynette was entirely unaware of.

"The kids—"

"Can order a pizza. Come on. When was the last time we went out to dinner just the two of us?"

A few well-placed kisses later, and she didn't put up any further arguments.

Tom spent most of the car ride trying to distract her from asking questions about their destination. It was easy to keep her unfocused—a few well placed questions about her sister's fiancé and Lynette was off on a tangent that could have lasted hours. Fortunately, his plans would undoubtedly drive all thoughts of her family from her mind, and everything would be perfect.

He continued this reassuring line of thought until he pulled into the parking lot, looking for the familiar lights of a restaurant only to be met with the harsh window display of a shoe store. For a second, he actually thought he had forgotten where he was going, but as Lynette frowned and said, "This isn't a restaurant anymore, remember?" he realized that he wasn't mistaken.

Of course, the one time he wanted to be wrong…

"What are you talking about?"

"Marley's Tavern. That place closed three years ago, remember? We were going to go there for our anniversary." Lynette looked at him curiously. "You were so upset that you said you'd never eat pork chops again. Of course, that only lasted three weeks…"

"I…I forgot," he admitted, baffled. Even now, as she talked about it, the memory was hazy at best. Discouraged, the best he could manage was to give her a weak smile. "I don't know where my head is."

"Oh, sweetie. It was a nice thought." She reached out and squeezed his forearm. "And in another three years maybe we can do it again."

Tom, not seeing the humor of the situation, heaved a great sigh and laid his head on the steering wheel. This was not how this night was supposed to go. They were supposed to be recapturing that spark; they were supposed to be remembering how exciting things had been when they first met. He'd had a plan.

"You know, we can still have sex tonight if that's what you're worried about."

Lynette's hand rubbed over his shoulder to his back, and wearily Tom lifted his head to look at her. Apparently his lack of amusement was obvious, because she was looking at him now with concern. "Okay, what's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted tonight to be perfect."

"Why?"

"You know."

"No, I really don't."

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, steeling himself to blurt out the truth. He'd kind of hoped tonight would speak for him so he wouldn't have to bring up this particular point again. What did it matter if they fought at this point though—the night was already a bust. "Er, well, I wanted to make up for our anniversary."

"Ooh."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom glanced at her. Lynette wore a quirky little smile—the one she had whenever she was trying not to laugh at him. It had the unique effect of annoying him and making him feel better at the same time. "What?"

"Our anniversary was three months ago."

"I know!"

Chuckling, Lynette held up her hands as if to deflect his anger. "Whoa. Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you forgot. Don't need to have that fight again."

"I got you a present."

"Yes, handing me a box of chocolates before you hunkered down on the computer for the whole day was very romantic." She rolled her eyes affectionately. "I'm just surprised. I mean, why wait three months?"

"Well I figured—I thought…since I kind of messed up on our actual anniversary, maybe we should celebrate a different one instead. And our first date was seventeen years ago today."

Lynette nodded, her smirk fading into genuine appreciation as the full extent of what he'd been trying to do sank into place. "You were trying to recreate it."

"It was stupid."

"No. It was sweet." She unbuckled her seatbelt and slowly shifted so she could lean in and kiss his cheek. Anticipating her movement, Tom turned at the last second and their lips met instead. Lynette gasped a started, "Oh!" before relaxing against him. For the next several minutes, Tom couldn't remember why the night had seemed remotely unsuccessful; the way Lynette's lips and tongue moved against his more than exceeded his expectations. When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes dancing. "Well that was fun," she said, the teasing tone returning to her voice. "We should do it again sometime."

"Very funny."

"What? You said you wanted to recreate our first date."

Ignoring her delighted peal of laughter, Tom reached out for her, tugging at her until she crawled over and settled firmly in his lap. "Tom," she giggled as he started to nip at her neck. "I think we're moving too fast. I mean, I barely know you. What if this gets out around work?"

His hand wriggled up her shirt, squeezing her breast before he switched tactics and gently ran a finger over the edge of her bra. The contrast of the lace and her skin was strangely enticing. "No one's going to find out," he mumbled against her clavicle. One of her hands worked its way into his hair and she pulled him closer, weakening her protests.

"I'll be branded a slut. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Don't care, as long as you're my slut."

She pulled back from him, her eyes dark with lust, but she put a hand to her heart as though she was scandalized. "Well if you think I'm sleeping with you after a comment like that, you've got another thing coming."

Tom scraped his fingernail over her nipple, grinning as she hissed. "You know, Miss Lindquist," he said, slipping his hand down from her chest to her thigh. Slowly, he started to stroke her skin, inching his way up her skirt. "I think you're lying. I think you like the dirty talk. In fact, I think you're completely turned on right now."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" He reached her panties, running his finger over her with just the slightest pressure. Her eyes fluttered shut, and involuntarily, she moved against him. "I bet I can make you scream using just my fingers."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Lynette leaned down, her lips a breath away from his. Tom's heart was pounding. "Prove it."

He went on to do just that.