by faithinthepoor

The ring of the phone sounds cataclysmically loud in unnatural silence that has filled the house, she looks down at the handset that she holds and wonders if it has somehow become possessed, she finds it an unlikely coincidence that the phone should ring at this point, not after she has spent what seems like hours trying to drum up the courage to make a call. In fact she is rather embarrassed by the pathetic display of insecurity and indecision that she has exhibited and she’s glad that there were no witnesses to the tableau. She has had the phone in her hand for some time and like a love sick adolescent has been pressing the digits with an almost religious fervor but terminating the process before she gets to the last one, in the last few minutes she has managed to move on to the stage where she actually completes the numerical sequence and yet she still hangs up before the call has a chance to connect. She is almost able to convince herself that the phone has not actually rung, that the sound that she hears is nothing more than the product of her overactive imagination but she realises that if the tone continues, she risks drawing the attention of the other occupants of the house, so with trepidation she answers, “Hello?”

“Lynette what the hell are you doing?”


“Who did you think it would be? You have been making my phone chirp for a good fifteen minutes now, I wasn’t going to ignore it forever, I do plan to get more sleep tonight and as tired as he may be lately, it was going to wake Rex up sooner or later.”

She deflects the guilt she feels rather easily, it’s not like she didn’t know that it was likely that she would have to wake Bree up to talk to her, “How did you know it was me? Caller ID?”

“Not that I need it, who else but you would have the gall to be calling me at this hour? You’ve been drinking again,” the last part is a clear statement of fact, there is no suggestion that there is any doubt in Bree’s mind

She can’t deny that Bree is right but that doesn’t stop the flash of irritation that fires through her body in response to the accusation, she manages to suppress it though, she didn’t spend all this time trying to call Bree just to argue with her, “Yeah, I’ve had a bad night.”

“So you thought you’d ruin mine?”

“I just needed to hear your voice and besides I am pretty sure that I can get you to forgive me.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“What if I told you I was sitting here is a French maid’s outfit and that I am desperate for you to peel it from my body?”

“You’re forgiven,” Bree’s response is almost a moan and she seems to need time to collect her thoughts before continuing, “I’ll be right over.”

She honestly had not predicted that response and lets out an undignified yelp before she squeaks, “No! I mean you can’t, not now.”

“Tom’s there? You call me in the middle of the night and Tom’s there? I should have known, you’ve been whispering rather dramatically, I guess I foolishly thought that was your drunken attempt to be sexy. So the outfit was for him, Lynette whatever else I may be to you, I am not your go to girl for when your husband doesn’t satisfy you and I really do not want to hear about you’re failed sexual exploits with him.”

“This is as much about you as it is him, probably more so.”

“Sometimes I think you can rationalize away anything, you can’t possibly believe that.”

“No it’s true, I don’t think Tom finds me appealing anymore and I need to know that I’m still appealing.”

“Then I don’t understand what this is about, you don’t need to prove anything, I find you appealing…….I…..I mean we…..we could……I’m not doing this very well, you know that I want you right?”

“That’s part of the problem, it’s been a long time since I’ve been with anybody else and I need to feel that I’m good at this, I don’t want him not to want me, cause that might mean that I’m not wantable. You and I have been dancing around each other for so long now I’m terrified that I can’t live up to the anticipation and that I am going to disappoint you.”

“You can be such an idiot at times and I don’t think wantable is a real word”

“That’s not exactly comforting.”

“I didn’t realize that comforting you was my current mandate, it’s certainly not my main priority, I think you’re lucky I am still on the phone. So exactly how did this misguided little plan of yours go wrong?”

“He came home late, I was nervous and I guess bored so, yes, I drank and I kinda passed out. Anyway he came home and I was asleep in a somewhat compromising position on the sofa and he brought a work colleague with him and I was subjected to much ridicule and sadly it’s apparently not possible to die from embarrassment. I sent them both upstairs and told them that I was going to sleep on the sofa but I don’t know if they’ll really stay up there, hence the whispering and the fact that I have not changed.”

The humor in Bree’s voice is barely contained, “My poor baby, you really have had a bad night, I’d come over there and kiss you all better if I could but I guess I’ll just have to make that up to you next time we are alone.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely,” it is said with total conviction but Bree’s next words seem much more apprehensive, “anybody else?”


“You said that it has been a long time since you had been with anybody else, there’ve been others?”

“Well yeah, it’s not like I’m a virgin Bree, my children weren’t all the result of immaculate conception.”

“How many others?”

“So I go from virgin to whore in a matter of seconds, you sure know how to make a girl feel special – what did you expect that I waited for my wedding night to have sex?”

“I guess not,” Bree’s voice sounds small and sad.

“But you did, didn’t you? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply that there was something wrong with that.”

“And here you are freaking out about your level of experience and I have been with a grand total of one person. I am the one who should be worried, I have to compete with all the ghosts of your past, you only have to compete with Rex and I have got to tell you that he has never kissed me the way you kiss me, you have nothing to worry about.”

“So I don’t have ghosts to compete with, that’s great, that’s a whole load of my mind, now I know that I all I have to be is someone worth going to hell for.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“But you do so it doesn’t really matter what I believe and it’s not like it’s ever going to be stress and pressure free for either of us.”

“So what, we’re screwed?”

“Such harsh language Mrs Van De Kamp, may be we are screwed but may be it just means that we are even.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much about the sin stuff, I am going to hell for the thoughts that I have about you, I guess what we do from here on in is pretty incidental.”

“I’m not sure that that is as romantic as you seem to think it is.”

“You know, it’s good that you called, I need to talk to you, I saw Edie Britt and she accused me of having an affair.”

Every fiber in her body is screaming at her to put the phone down, that if she doesn’t actually hear Bree say that it’s too risky for them to continue, then in her mind their relationship never has to end, she can continue to think of Bree as her own. She is definitely adding Edie to her enemies list, in fact now that recent events have removed Karen McCluskey from her position at the top of the totem pole of evil she has a vacancy that Edie will fill nicely. It’s not a though she hasn’t been acutely aware that the strain of a clandestine affair would probably be enough to destroy it in the end, it’s just that she thought they’d at least get the chance to start before they had to finish, “How could she possibly know? Technically we haven’t really done anything.”

“That’s just it; she accused me of cheating on my husband emotionally but not with you, with George.”

She is almost hysterical in her relief over the fact that Bree hasn’t mentioned terminating things between them and can’t stop herself from laughing, “She can not be serious.”

“So it doesn’t worry you that I spend time with him, you don’t feel threatened?”

“No, he may be hopelessly in love with you but I don’t see him as competition, he’s not even in my league.”

“That’s my overly confident girl.”

“You better believe it. Do you really think I worry about George Williams?”

“Edie called me on telling him personal things and that this meant that I was cheating on Rex and I guess I am worried that it means that I’m cheating on you.”

She doesn’t want to lend credence to Bree’s accusation that she was intoxicated but she suddenly feels infinitely more sober and a whole lot less confident, “What sort of things?”

“We talk about places I’ve been and things I want to do and food and art and the things I love and he said we should go to Italy together, I think he thought I’d have a better time with him than with Rex.”

“So you don’t talk about me?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then I am okay with it.”

“But Lynette he’s talking about going away with me.”

“I’m assuming that you are not seriously thinking of going away with him?”


“Then I don’t see where the problem is.”

“You don’t?”

“No. He’s never going to have you, so what does he have to lose by inviting you to Italy and trying to out do Rex, it’s as much a part of his fantasy as kissing you would be.”

“You don’t have fantasies like that about me?”

“My fantasies about you, well at least the ones that don’t involve us having some pretty damn spectacular, athletic, mind-blowing sex, are much more banal, I don’t need grand gestures but I do spend a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to sleep in your arms.”

“You can be surprisingly sweet when you try. You do realize that you started this conversation telling me about how unsure you were about your prowess and now you are talking about mind-blowing sex?”

“It’s a gift but I am serious, I do want it to be extraordinary, we could start practicing now, I’m kissing my way down your neck.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh Hi Bree, welcome to the conversation, I have had a bad night and a few drinks and right now I am trying to have phone sex with my girlfriend but she seems reluctant to play.” When Bree doesn’t answer she has to consider that she has pushed things too far, “The sarcasm too inappropriate?”

“It’s fine, I was always raised to believe that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit but I know that it’s part and parcel of what makes you you and I accept that.”

She moves down her mental list of possible transgressions, “Too early for me to call you my girlfriend?”

“It’s strange and new but it’s definitely not bad, I think it’s something that I could really get used to.”

“So it’s the phone sex thing then?”

“I know you think I’m uptight but intercourse is not something that I really like to talk about, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the act but I don’t think that it’s something that should be put into words.”

“You would seem a lot less uptight if you didn’t refer to it as intercourse. Don’t you trust me enough to play with me?”

“I trust you body and soul but this is not something that I can do.”

“Yes you can, it’s just like masturbation, only more fun, cause we’ll be doing it together.”

“I don’t like to do that either.”

“You mean you never?”

“If there is going to be fluid loss I have always felt that it should be a shared experience.”

“Fluid loss?”

“Please don’t make fun of me, this is hard for me to talk about.”

“I’m not mocking you it’s just that I think you’d feel a whole lot better if you went to your laundry, put your washer on the spin cycle and listened to me talk dirty to you……………” she trails off as she hears movement on the stairs.

“It’s just not something I’m ready for, I don’t know if I ever will be”

“That’s okay”, she murmurs absently.

“Obviously it’s not.”

“No it’s fine, I think I heard someone,” the words have only just escaped her mouth as Tom enters the kitchen.

He looks tired and mighty annoyed, “Who are you talking to?”


“Lynette you can’t be calling the neighbours in the middle of the night, give me the phone.” She resents the tone in his voice but can’t exactly tell him that she thinks she should be allowed to call her girlfriend any time that she wants, so she hands him the phone, “I’m sorry Bree, she’s had a bad evening but I’ll take it from here.” He looks even more irritable, if that is possible, as he hands the phone back to her, “she says she wants to say good night.”

“Can he hear me?” Bree’s voice is scarcely a whisper.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good, cause I just wanted to remind you that I owe you some serious kisses and to tell you that you don’t need to wear outfits for me, I’ll be happy to rip anything from your body, oh and I love you,” Lynette doesn’t even get the chance to think about responding as there is now only a dial tone to talk with.

She cradles the phone and looks up at Tom who shows no evidence of having overheard Bree’s words. “I’m not coming upstairs, I’m serious about sleeping down here tonight but if I would like it if you got me my pajamas.”

He complies without comment, returns with her most comfortable nightwear and kisses her on the temple, “If you are staying down here, I am staying here with you, I’m sorry I ruined your plans for tonight, I mean really sorry, really, really sorry and if we didn’t have company I’d show you just how sorry I am.”

“I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to fight, let’s just go to bed.” She had made up the sofa before she began her little game of Russian roulette with the phone so she simply changes and climbs into bed, such as it is. Tom snuggles against her and she adjusts herself on his chest and even though her body seems to feel that she belongs there, she is not able to convince her mind. There is nothing left to do except hope that she has had enough alcohol to guarantee at least some sleep so she closes her eyes and tries not to think about flame red hair, alabaster skin and soft curves but she fails miserably.

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