A/N: Is anyone out there still reading this fic? Lol. If so, this is a little pre-series Tom/Lynette. It takes place before the birth of Penny (obviously). I'm not sure I really like where I ended it, but I felt if I went on it might drag a little. And, I also thought I'd leave a little up to the imagination. Enjoy :)

Ambition

"A man without ambition is dead. A man with ambition but no love is dead. A man with ambition and love for his blessings here on earth is ever so alive."

~.~

"Hey, Tom. It's me…again," Lynette sighed into the phone, placing it haphazardly on her shoulder as she picked up a crying Parker from his crib. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, much like he'd been doing for the past three nights. "I'm having a small crisis, so could you please, please, please call me back. Love you."

Without skipping a beat, she placed the phone back down on the charger and settled her son on her hip, rocking and swaying from side-to-side in an effort to calm him down. Tears stained his cheeks and his eyes were beginning to swell and turn a shade of deep red, but it didn't seem to faze him. He continued on and on for the next twenty minutes, sobbing until his breath hitched and his eyes slowly began to close from sheer exhaustion.

When he had finally fallen asleep in her arms, Lynette silently thanked God for the instance of peace. She placed him gingerly in the playpen, wrapping him up in his favorite blanket before quietly tiptoeing up the stairs. She peeked into the twins' room, smiling when she saw that they were still napping. This was the first time all week that they had all been down at the same time.

She crept along the hall to her room, collapsing in an exhausted heap on the bed. She closed her eyes, soaking in the serene silence around her. This hadn't happened in weeks, and she was determined to make the best of it.

She curled up against the pillow, trying not to think about the million and one thing she still had to do today; clean up the chaos and shambles that had taken over her household, fix dinner for the three children that would be up in less than hour (if that), try to get a hold of her husband (who she was rapidly losing her patience with), and somehow manage to keep her sanity.

However, the thoughts in her brain slowly seemed to drift away as her mind went into a haze, and everything around her slipped away. She felt all of the tension in her body float above her, lifting huge weights off of her shoulders as she descended into a perfectly blissful slumber.

~.~

Lynette was just beginning to dream about a hot bath, one with bubbles surrounding her, soft, classical music playing in the background, candles lit all around the tub and no kids running around to interrupt her, when she heard a loud, shrill ringing in her ear.

She jolted upward off of the bed, realizing a little too late that it was the phone.

Praying that it hadn't woken the boys, she bolted down the stairs at lightning speed, almost tripping over a stuffed monkey in the process. She had just made it downstairs and was inches away from the receiver when she heard the piercing cry that she was all too use to.

She groaned before picking up the phone and giving whoever was on the opposite end an annoyed, "Hello?"

"Hey, honey. What's going on?"

His voice surprised her. She hadn't expected to hear from him until close to bedtime for the kids. He was always so busy during the day that he rarely had the luxury of being able to call her when she could actually have a conversation with him.

"Oh, Parker's crying, the twins are most likely awake and destroying whatever was left unattended upstairs, I haven't slept in three days. Nothing new really," Lynette stated, clutching the phone to her shoulder like she'd done before and picking up her hysteric son from the playpen. "Just a rough week."

"I can hear that," Tom answered. "I should be home this weekend."

"This weekend?" Lynette asked incredulously, and a little too loudly. Parker's high pitched screams became deafening. She didn't know how much longer she could take this by herself. "You promised me you'd be home on Wednesday!"

"I'm really sorry sweetie," he began, his voice rising in volume over Parker's screeching. "I might be in the running for that big promotion, and I need to be here. I promise, Friday I'll be home, helping you with the boys."

She rolled her eyes. He said this every single time. He'd give her a day, she'd get her hopes up, and he'd change it. Most of the time, she was able to hide her anger and resentment, but for some reason, it all bubbled over the surface and escaped before she could stop herself.

"Yeah, that's what you always say Tom," she hissed into the phone, pacing around her living room angrily. "I'm actually surprised you come home at all anymore. Your job must take precedence over your family now."

Without caring to hear his response, she hung up the phone and threw it onto the sofa. She had wanted to talk to him, to let off some steam that had been built up from almost two weeks alone with three children under the age of five, but she ended up letting out a whole other realm of anger. She hadn't meant to be so harsh, but it was the only way she knew how to react when she was in such a blatant state of frustration.

Lynette had been in somewhat of a daze, thoughts of indignation and bitterness clouding her ability to pay attention to anything else around her. She snapped out of her stupor once she realized that her son was no longer crying. He was still gasping for breath, and stains from the tears that had been flowing down his face were imprinted on his cheeks, but he seemed to have calmed down considerably. She kissed his forehead, and for the first time he actually felt warm.

"You okay little guy?" she asked, concern evident in her voice as she walked upstairs towards the bathroom to retrieve a thermometer. She stuck it under his tongue and waited three minutes before removing it and checking the temperature.

"One-hundred degrees," Lynette recited sadly, looking down at her son, who was now fast asleep against her shoulder. "No wonder you've been fussy all day long."

She didn't hear the phone ringing again until she opened the bathroom door and descended down the hall to the boys' room. She ignored it, making a mental note to call Tom back the moment she got Parker down successfully and figured out what the hell she was going to do now.

This is so not what she needed right now.

~.~

"Hi, you've reached the Scavo residence. We can't take your call right now, so leave a message and we'll get back to you."

The sound of their answering machine filled Tom's ear for the third time before he placed the phone back down on the receiver in defeat. He hung his head, shame evident on his face as he stood from his chair and walked over to a nearby window. He looked out over the crowded city of New York, the buildings and skyscrapers stretching endlessly before him, a sight that he had always been fascinated and intrigued by.

Today, however, it was like a huge barrier; a barrier that was separating him from his wife and children, who were miles and miles away. Lynette was furious with him. She had never, to his knowledge, ever hung up on him before. She must have been seriously pissed off to not even want to yell at him like she usually does. He had really fucked up this time.

He glanced behind him at the wall clock, seeing that it was just a little past three. Normally he'd be at his desk, working furiously on the next campaign that his boss threw at him. He thought about all of the different clients he'd met this week, all of the colors and slogans and designs that they'd made him sit through when he could blatantly see that it was all wrong and that he'd have to start from scratch as soon as they gave him the go ahead. It was a mundane routine, one that he had found a strange, comforting solace in for the past few years.

He had a passion for his job; one that he thought he'd never have. He chose to major in this profession under pressure, and he'd found that he was surprisingly good at it. He had a knack for something he didn't know could be so rewarding. What was even better about it was that he actually enjoyed his work. But, the choice to join this field wasn't just a lucky pick.

Tom had always felt fate was on his side. If he had never joined advertising, he would've never met Lynette. He had always felt like the whole thing was destiny, and that every decision he had ever made up until that point had led him there to her. He would never forget the first time he had seen her in the elevator. She looked so nervous and uneasy, but still held that unmistakable quality of control and poise that attracted him to her in the first place. She was a perfect contradiction. He knew right then and there, even though he had been wrapped up in another woman's arms, that he had to have her.

He wanted so badly to continue staring blankly out at the billions of people flooding the streets below him, but he knew work was far more urgent. Besides, he needed an adequate distraction for the guilt that was racking his brain.

So, he took a seat and began absentmindedly thumbing through the Smith account, wondering how in the world he was going to make something as mundane as laundry detergent seem interesting.

"Scavo!"

Tom glanced up from his papers to see his boss standing in the doorway, an ecstatic grin plastered on his face. "What's up?"

"You're in the running, my friend," he informed Tom happily. "If you land the Smith account, that promotion is as good as yours."

"Are you serious?" he exclaimed, trying his hardest to remain cool and collected. This was the best news he'd heard in weeks, possibly months, and he wasn't about to screw this up. "Thank you, sir."

"No, thank you," his boss responded sincerely, walking towards his desk and extending his hand to Tom. "You've been a great addition to this company. We wouldn't be where we are right now if you hadn't come along."

"I appreciate that."

"You have to be at the meeting this afternoon, or you're out. Four o'clock sharp. Don't be late, and don't screw around," he said firmly. "This is important, and we can't afford any slipups."

"Four o'clock. Got it. I won't let you down sir," Tom said enthusiastically as he shook his bosses hand again. "Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"You've earned it, Scavo."

And, with that, his boss left him alone again to contemplate how in the hell he was going to pull all of this together by four o'clock.

~.~

"What should I do? His fever's gone up to one-hundred and one in the past hour," Lynette cried helplessly into the phone, looking down sadly at the thermometer she held tightly in her hand.

"Honey, just calm down. Have you called Tom yet?" Mary Alice asked calmly, trying to soothe her hysterical friend.

Lynette had called her almost twenty minutes ago now in complete shambles, worried sick about Parker. The relaxed tone of Mary Alice's voice reassured her a bit, pacifying her anxiety for at least a few moments before it all resurfaced and threatened her hold on rationality.

"No. He's at work, so he probably wouldn't want to be bothered," she answered bitterly, a snap of resentment buried underneath her words.

"That's just silly. You know he would take the call and fly right home."

Lynette rolled her eyes. All of her friends saw Tom as the perfect husband and father who could do no wrong. Sure, they were right on some level. When she was pregnant, he was present at every doctor's appointment, helped her during birthing class, went out at midnight when she had some weird, unexplained cravings. But, where did he magically disappear to after the birth? Oh, that's right. He went back to work and she was left to raise three small boys alone until he came back.

"I doubt that."

"Stop being so stubborn. I can tell by the tone in your voice that you guys had another fight, but your child is sick. He has a right to know, Lynnie."

Unfortunately, Mary Alice was right. She was always right in situations like this. "I know. As soon as I check on Parker, I'll call him. I'm probably going to have to take him to the emergency room."

"Well, bring the twins over here if you do. No need subjecting them to sickness too," she offered, much to Lynette's relief. The one thing that she had been dreading about an emergency room visit was lugging the three of them, and having to keep a vigilant eye on the twins. She knew they would've been chaotic within seconds of walking through the door.

"Mary Alice, you're a Godsend," Lynette exclaimed honestly. Without her, today would be a worse hell then it already was. "I'll never be able to thank you for this."

"Just a large bottle of wine and a girl's night in the near future would be thanks enough for me," she responded. "Now, go call your husband."

Reluctantly, she hung up with Mary Alice and began dialing the number to Tom's New York office. He flew there so frequently that the company had decided a personal office was necessary. Unfortunately for Lynette, the day they gave him a new office was the day that he began traveling more and more. He had only been home fifteen days out of this month. She really hated to admit that she couldn't handle things on her own, but it was rapidly escalating to the point where she would resort to begging to get a few minutes of refuge from the insanity that plagued her.

"Tom Scavo's office. How may I help you?"

"Yes, I'm his wife. Is he available?" she asked, a hint of urgency in her voice that the secretary didn't seem to pick up on, considering she took five minutes to respond.

"No, mam, I'm sorry. Mr. Scavo is in a very important meeting right now and doesn't want to be disturbed," she answered.

Lynette had to take a few deep breaths before speaking again, for fear that she would say something she would regret. "Well, could you get him for me anyway? It's really important."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. Boss's orders."

"Listen, lady," she hissed, not bothering to hold back her temper as the words left her mouth. "My son has is sick, and my husband needs to know about it. I'm walking on thin ice here, and I'm not in the mood for an attitude. If you don't want me to get on a plane, fly to New York and personally kick your ass, I suggest you get Tom. Now."

Without hesitation, the secretary answered, "One moment please."

~.~

Tom ran into the room quickly, reading all of his materials for this pivotal meeting. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, just like it was every other time that he had a big presentation. He loathed it, but at the exact same time the feeling exhilarated him. He was so ready for this. He needed to land this account, for no other reason than to get that promotion and give Lynette everything she deserved.

With determination fueling him, he began speaking. He went slide after slide, surveying everyone's face. So far, so good.

"And now, I present to you—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Scavo?"

His body froze. He looked toward the door and gave his secretary an irritated, warning glare. Through gritted teeth, he asked, "Didn't I tell you I was in an important meeting and not to disturb me with anything?"

"I know, sir, but your wife is on the phone and she insists it's urgent."

With a groan, he looked towards his client, his eyes pleading. "Mr. Smith, would you excuse me for just a moment?"

His client unwillingly nodded, leaving Tom with the obvious impression that he had better make this fast. He ran down the hallway and into his office, yanking the phone off of the receiver. "Hey. What do you need, honey?"

"Parker's sick," Lynette answered, at this point exhausted and fed up with the exchanges. She wanted to get this call over with, because she was almost certain, by the rushed tone of his voice, that there was no way he was coming home. "I'm going to have to take him to the emergency room. I just thought you should know."

And, just like that, the worry and fear that he felt going into that meeting transferred over to his son. He sat down in his chair, no longer caring whether his client got pissed off or not. "Why? What's wrong with him?"

"He's been throwing up, and he has a really high fever," Lynette informed him, concern evident in her voice. "I don't know what it could be."

"Do you need me there?" he asked with a bit of hesitance, which his wife immediately picked up on.

"Would it matter if I did?" she answered challengingly, knowing that this wasn't necessarily the time for a fight, but angry enough not to care.

"Of course it would matter," he retaliated. "I would be there in a second if it was something serious."

"That's exactly my point Tom. You'd only be here if he was about to die," Lynette hissed in a whisper, trying not to yell. Any extra stress on Parker wouldn't be in their best interest.

"Hey, you know that isn't true!" he fired back, his voice rising in volume. "I would do anything for you and the boys."
"Really? Then why are you there instead of here?"

It felt like she had plunged a knife into his chest. "Well, what do you want me to do? Quit my job? Do you not want to have any money, a house to live in, a car to drive?"

"Right now, all I care about is the health of our son. Go back to work. I know that's where you really want to be."

And, just like that, she was gone again. A blaring dial tone filled his ear. He hung up the phone and sat back in his chair, perplexed by what had just transpired. He thought things were going better than this. He knew Lynette hated his schedule, but he didn't know she felt this strongly. How could he be such an idiot?

He wanted to forget about all of this. He wanted to go in there, knock that presentation out of the park, and get that promotion. But, more than that, he wanted to jump on a plane, fly home, and be there for his wife and his son. He had a decision to make, and despite what some may think, it wasn't an easy one.

If he walked out of the door right now, he could kiss everything he's worked so hard for goodbye. But, if he didn't, it could be the proverbial nail in his coffin when it comes to dealing with Lynette. He knew she was sitting home, smugly waiting for him to either walk through that door, or call and apologize for being the worst husband on the face of the planet.

Eventually, though, he had to make up his mind. He stood from his chair, and with a heavy heart he began walking back towards the conference room.

~.~

"Don't worry, he's going to be fine," the nurse said, a resounding sigh emanating from Lynette as she laid Parker in a crib in the corner of their hospital room. "Just a virus. But, we're still going to keep him overnight for observation."

"Thank you so much," she answered with gratitude, leaning on the side of the crib and brushing Parker's cheek with her fingers. "I'm just glad he's alright."

"There's a bed over there for you," the nurse informed, "and your husband, if he shows up."

Yeah, that'll happen, Lynette thought with a scoff as the nurse walked out of the room.

With Parker seemingly at ease, she found time to lie down on the bed across the room. She stared at the bland pattern of black and white tiles on the ceiling above her and wondered how her life had resorted to this; waiting alone in a hospital while her husband was off making some ridiculous business deal. She wondered when his work had become his first priority over his family.

But, for now, she didn't want to worry about him at all. She turned over to face the wall, which was painted with various caricatures, surely meant to cheer up the children who occupied the rooms on the pediatrics floor. In all reality, it just made Lynette uneasy. She continued staring at it until she spotted a boy and girl, holding hands and lazily lying in a tuft of grass, flying a kite. Why couldn't her relationship be that easy?

She looked at it for only a second, closing her eyes quickly when she felt the overwhelming urge to cry. She wouldn't let his absence and apparent lack of distress over the situation make her a sobbing mess. It isn't that big of deal. It was just this one time that he didn't come home. It won't happen again.

She could repeat that to herself over and over again for as long as she wanted, but she knew it wasn't true. If he didn't care enough this time, why would he the next time? If anything, his concerns would continue to fade. She had to start coping with that fact. He wasn't always going to be there like he had promised when they were saying their wedding vows. Who knows? He might even decide that he didn't ever want to come back home.

With thoughts of their murky future filling her head, she was surprised when she began to drift. Even as her mind became hazy, though, she was certain that her anxieties would transition into her dreams, leaving her not a single moment of peace, even in sleep.

~.~

Lynette tossed and turned that night, never quite finding a comfortable position in a bed that felt as if its mattress was constructed of metal. It wasn't ideal, but she supposed it was better than being at home in their bed alone.

She glanced towards the clock, realizing that she'd literally slept the whole day. It was well past midnight, and she hadn't heard a word from her husband. Not even the obligatory 'I'm sorry' phone call. What the hell had gotten into him?

She was still facing the wall when the door creaked opened. Assuming it was just the nurse checking on Parker, she decided to ignore it completely and pretend to be asleep. She didn't particularly feel like dealing with any unnecessary human contact.

She listened to the footsteps as they crossed the room quietly, obviously trying not to wake her up. But, to her surprise, the footsteps stopped next to her bed, and a masculine frame sat on the edge. She shot up immediately, looking out into the darkness at an unmistakable figure staring back at her.

"Tom," she whispered, resisting the urge to fling herself into his arms and kiss him into oblivion. "What are you doing here?"

He reached a hand towards her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear carefully as he answered, "Did you really think I'd choose work over you and the boys?"

Suddenly she felt horribly guilty. "I—"

"Don't answer that," he interrupted, placing a finger against her lips to stop her. "I know I've been a jackass lately, and first I want to apologize. I'm so sorry I haven't been there for you guys. I know it's been tough on you with me gone all the time, and I really am sorry."

She knew that there were unresolved issues and questions to be answered, but she didn't care. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his in a long, lingering kiss; a kiss that poured out every fiber of her soul, leaving every inner feeling raw and exposed. She was positive that he could feel the hurt, the anger, the relief, the paralyzing fear, the uncertainty.

She pulled away slightly, her breath hot on his lips as she whispered, "God, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

"I think I do," he said, cupping her cheeks in his hands and hauling her back against him, their lips connecting again. Even though they had been fighting, and even though there was still a vagueness of doubt hanging between the two of them, he had a compulsive need to be as close to her as physically possible. As if that would bind up the wound that had developed between the two of them.

All too soon, she placed her trembling hands on his chest and pushed away, turning her head towards the wall. He could tell that she was about to cry, and it made his heart break a little. "Lynette, I'm sorry. For everything. I'm here now."

She shook her head, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. In a voice that was weak and shaky, she said, "I know. I know, but I was just—I was scared. I'm still scared."

"Scared of what? That I'm going to leave one day and never come back?"

When the thoughts she'd been having for weeks now finally left his mouth, she couldn't face him. She was ashamed. Ashamed and foolish to have even considered it. But, as silly as it may have been, it was there. She'd have to deal with it eventually, and now was as good a time as any.

With one solitary tear slipping down her cheek, she muttered, "Yes."

He closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. He should've known that this was going through her mind. After what her father did, after what her step-father did. It should have been obvious, but it wasn't. He loathed himself for not noticing what an effect his traveling had on her. It was all his fault that she felt this way, and he wondered just how long this had been going on.

Instead of asking more questions and prolonging this, he simply said, "That will never happen. I will always be here for you and the boys."

She didn't look him in the eye. She couldn't look him in the eye. Everything he was saying was going straight from her head to her heart. She wanted to believe him. She wanted so badly to trust his words. The sad truth was that men said this every day, and only a select few really mean it. How could she tell if he did?

Defying all sensible thoughts in her brain, she asked, "How do you know that? How do you know that you'll feel the same way in a few months, a few years?"

Sighing, and with a hint of laughter, he answered, "Because. Can't you see that I'm crazy about you? God, I feel like I'm back at the beginning. Remember, we had this exact same conversation?"

She nodded, remembering the night vividly. They had made love that night, and were laying her bed in sweaty mess of bodies and blankets when he declared his love for her. She had gotten scared, like she always did. The alarm blared and sounded, warning her that he was beginning to care too much. She tried her damndest to push him away, to get him out of her life before they destroyed one another. But, he refused to leave. He refused to stop loving her.

That was the night that she had told him all about her past. She divulged every torrid secret, every abusive, neglected anecdote. He had sat there, watching as tears streamed down her face (much like right now), and listening as she rambled on for what she assumed would be their last conversation. This was the point in the relationship when most men realized she was too much to handle, and they got out while they still could.

But, Tom had stayed.

"Why can't I just trust you?" she sobbed, furiously trying but failing to keep her volume in check. "You flew back here to be with us, and I'm still making up reasons not to. I don't understand. Why am I so—"

She didn't even have time to finish her sentence. Tom grabbed her and drew her forward into his embrace, stroking the loose strands of blonde hair that hung down over her shoulders. He just held her there for a minute, gently running his fingers through her hair, down her back. He hated that she had to go through this mental torture. He hated her mother, her father, her stepfather, anyone who had inflicted pain on her as a child and left near-irreparable scars on her heart.

"You do trust me," he stated matter-of-factly. "You're just afraid to. You're afraid I'm going to hurt you. But, I'm not. Did you know that the only reason I took this job was so that I could make more money to support you and our family? Did you know that the only reason we moved onto the Lane was because I knew it was your dream house? Look at all the things I've done for you. Why would I want to screw all that up?"

Suddenly, something clicked inside of her brain. She leaned back, looking into his eyes as she asked, "Did you give up that promotion to come here?"

Without hesitation, he answered, "Yes."

"You've done all those things…and this…for me?"

"Well, this was more for Parker, but yeah." He grasped her hand, holding it tightly as he asked, "Do you believe me now?"

"I've always believed you. I just didn't know that I did."

She lifted their entwined hands from the bed, pulling them up towards her heart. She kissed his knuckles and sighed. This time, not out of frustration, but contentment. Even if this truce didn't last long, even if they did start fighting again once he went back out to New York or wherever the company sent him, she would have this moment.

"I can't believe you let that promotion go," Lynette said incredulously, trying to deviate to a lighter form of conversation.

"Eh, it's no big deal," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "The campaign sucked anyway. I was pretty sure I was gonna tank."

"You're such a liar," she chuckled.

"Yeah, I am," he admitted, lowering his head to the hollow of her neck and kissing it slowly. "I would've nailed it. But, being here with you is much more satisfying."

A/N: So, did everyone like where I ended it? I felt like I shouldn't resolve all of their issues, because they obviously still had quite a few at the beginning of the series. Still a little unsure, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. I have another chapter in the works, and if anyone has any emotion requests, I'd be glad to see if I could work it in. Thanks for reading.