Fiction, life & Marcia Cross
Kathy Griffin: Tuesday at 8 on Bravo "Strong Black Woman"
In Marcia Cross news, she narrates a self-guided breast checker audio thing. How gay is that? Every woman in America is going to pay $5 for Marcia Cross to tell them how to touch their breasts. I really wish it was a video and Marcia demonstrated on herself-- I think if that was the case, they would really make a killing on it. She's not a doctor but she played one on TV, a demented psychotic one- but a doctor none-the-less. Oh, Marcia!
Another distraction was watching 'Housewives' tonight. Oh my god- first off it was amazing and a lot of things came to fruition. I just have to stop reading the god damned spoilers. I knew from them that Susan's house was going down and it was obvious it was Edie's doing, I knew about Andrew seducing Peter. I knew Bree was going to dump him off somewhere-- presumably Camp Henessy, but I was kind of ecstatic when she dumped him in the middle of nowhere. On IMDB some crazy women posted months ago- like at Christmas-- that Bree would eventually disown Andrew, and she said she was just like Bree and her daughter kept doing all these horrible things to her so she disowned her. Everyone on the board told the woman she needed extreme therapy, yada yada yada- well, crazy board poster woman was exactly right! Next week we get to see psychotic nervous breakdown Bree-- where is Danielle going if Bree checks herself into the mental hospital. Marcia Cross must be like, "why do I always have to get sexually rejected and wind up in the mental hospital? Do I exude crazy? Am I that typecast? Damn it!" Has she ever played a stable non-deranged lady? I'm sure she has, but no one is going to remember those roles?
I am so so close-- I mean I have never been closer! Close to what? Graduating College! Yes, this is it folks- finals week! My last finals week for ever and ever! Tomorrow we have a website critique and I have to film my entire cinematography project. Then Tuesday I have a monster modern art final which accounts for 50 percent of my grade, and that is pretty much it. Once I get that final done on Tuesday and film and edit cinematography I am completely done, done, done! So what did I decide to do today? Not working on anything that needs to be done, and writing fan fiction. I did have a blast writing this one though. I got the idea for it yesterday and I worked it pretty much all out in my head this morning, and it ended up having a lot of words- but I thought they were all neccessary. I wasn't sure if the pov and who was thinking what when would be clear, but I hope it is. If I had more time and energy I would have made the sexy scenes longer and more descriptive, but I pretty much conveyed everything. I see now that I don't develop Lynette's feelings for Bree to the point I would have liked to.
Author: Exquisitliltart
Title: Elaborate Fantasy
Rating: R
Description: Psychic Lynette
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Marc Cherry.
Word count: 4,612
Spoilers: None
The rain had subsided, but in its wake shallow puddles and humidity were left. Bree and Lynette, having just come from a delightful afternoon meal at their favorite downtown restaurant practically skipped down the street. It was Saturday, and Lynette was enjoying the well-deserved break from work and her family. Giddy on gossip, they passed by a sign that read “Tarot card readings with Psychic Jane.” The sign and the small office space had been there for a long time, but Bree and Lynette passed by it so often they had ceased to notice it. Today, it seemed to jump out at them and beckon them inside.
Bree stalled, she didn’t want to dabble in ‘the black arts’ as she called them, and ‘black arts’ qualified as anything outside of her rigid idea of Christianity.
“Come on, Bree. I know you’re curious,” Lynette tugged on Bree’s sleeve like a child begging her mother for a new toy. “You get to ask questions. It’s just fun. I’ll even pay for your reading.”
“Don’t whine to me, Lynette. It’s unbecoming. Well, I suppose if you want to, I’ll try it,” Bree smoothed down an errant stand of hair that had become frizzy in the weather, “Maybe I’ll just watch you get your cards read.”
Lynette rolled her eyes and headed up the narrow stairway of the dilapidated building. Once a prominent business area, now the rooms were occupied by small thrift shops, piercing/tattoo parlors, and hippy stores that sold tie-dyed shirts and bongs.
The door to the Psychic Jane’s was covered in chains, beads and tapestries, in fact- the entire interior was as well. Bree felt odd and irrationally nervous as she stepped through the doorway. She looked at Lynette who seemed to be entirely too excited about the prospect of a scam artist making up some random generalized info and then charging for it. Bree again tried to tell herself that the woman wouldn’t really be able to read her mind, but part of her believed in it, and that is what she hated the most--That this had the power to upset her ordered logical thinking, and make her feel edgy and tense.
Lynette sensed Bree’s apprehension, and continued to assure her. Psychic Jane was not in the small waiting parlor, but at the sound of the beads hitting the door she emerged from an adjunct room. Psychic Jane was all that one would hope for in a psychic. She was dressed in a large spacious muu-muu gown, mainly hot pink, but infused with a neon purple vine pattern. She had huge rose-tinted glasses, making it possible to see her eyes, but not fully comprehend their tone. The turban upon her dreadlocked head was hunter green, and looked as though it hadn’t been removed in months. Bree recoiled slightly, not from her appearance, but from the way she was gnawing on a foot-long meatball Subway sandwich. The corners of Lynette’s mouth curled into a smile.
“Helllooo! You want your fortune’s read? Tarot or what? I’m kind of on lunch break,” Psychic Jane spoke harshly.
Lynette perked up, “um..yeah. I mean whenever you’re ready. We were hoping for a tarot card reading.”
Psychic Jane crooked her sauce-covered finger at Lynette and then pointed it inward to lick it off with a smack. She swallowed the mouthful of meat and bread and said, “I’ve got something better for you. I’m trying out something- I think you’d be a good guinea pig- you have a lot of psychic potential.”
“You can tell that just from looking at her?” Bree had her mask-of-incredulity firmly in place and it wasn’t budging.
Psychic Jane refused to speak to non-believers, “Blondie, tell your friend to shut it, and get your asses in here.”
Lynette and Bree exchanged a worried glance and then meekly followed Psychic Jane through the beaded curtain, past the lava lamps and optic fiber lights all the way to the dusty back of the office. Psychic Jane pulled the window closed, cutting off the bright gray light, and gestured for Bree and Lynette to sit. The only places to sit were upon the bean bag chairs that had been shoddily repaired with duct tape. Bree, inwardly disgusted, was a good sport and slowly lowered her long frame onto the bag trying numerous times to position herself into her usual ladylike portrait. Lynette plunked herself down cross-legged and watched eagerly as Psychic Jane lit several candles and some incense, and chanted in her low-gravelly voice.
“Okay--business-- if this works I need you to come back in a few days and report your progress. I won’t charge you. It’s sort of a research study,” Psychic Jane said sweetly to Lynette. She then turned her attention to Bree for the first time and barked hoarsely, “Flames, you pay, and you go first.”
A deck of tarot cards emerged from somewhere inside Psychic Jane’s layers of muu-muu and she spread them out before Bree.
“Pick 6 cards and lay them face up in any order,” Psychic Jane commanded.
Bree looked doubtful, but did as she was told. She was still recoiling from the assertion that Psychic Jane could get away with calling her ‘Flames’.
Psychic Jane pulled out a box of yellow American Spirit’s from her muu-muu, packed them with the heel of her hand before pulling out the cigarette and lighting it, all the while never taking her eyes off of Bree’s cards.
“Um..I’d appreciate it if you didn’t smoke,” Bree’s tone was polite, but she was rapidly reaching the end of her rope.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop thinking some of the things you’re thinking about me, but I can’t really control that, and you can’t really control this,” Psychic Jane waved her cigarette right in Bree’s face before continuing in a resigned tone, “All you can ever control is your own self.”
Bree’s eyes narrowed and her voice lost all politeness, “Just read the cards, I’m paying you for this service.”
Lynette shifted uncomfortably, and rested her arm across Bree’s shoulder’s softly stroking her back to calm her down. Bree’s eye’s slipped shut and she shivered lightly. Psychic Jane did not miss this reaction and her eyebrows rose in smug understanding. She tuned her mind into Bree’s again and confirmed her suspicions.
Forging ahead, Psychic Jane looked at the cards before her and gave Bree a quick reading, “It seems you have a new romantic interest, maybe two romantic interests, which is a big step for you. According to this card someone close to you was murdered not too long ago-Wait no, it was two people who were murdered.”
Bree looked stunned, but still not entirely convinced, “Okay, so you are close-but I only have one partially romantic interest, and my husband was murdered, but the other person committed suicide.”
“Potatoes, Pototoes,” Psychic Jane shrugged. “It looks like you are in for some major life changes, especially regarding your son, and something is also happening with your daughter.”
“Wow, she knows you have two kids!” Lynette looked impressed.
“Now, is there anything you want to ask me?” Psychic Jane offered.
“Yes, how long have you been in this sham business, and do you treat all of your customers so rudely?” Bree said somewhat more angrily than she meant to.
With surprising calm, as if she had heard it all before, Psychic Jane responded, “I’ve been in this sham business long enough to know about people like you, my dear. I say what I mean and mean what I say, which is more than I can say for you. You should take a lesson from your friend here. Now, can you assure me you’ll be quiet and keep your negative thoughts on the back burner while I have a session with her, or do you need to leave?”
Bree pursed her lips and clumsily stood up, “I need to leave.”
Lynette jumped up, “Bree, come on. Don’t let her get to you. Just sit down for another minute.” Lynette lowered her voice and whispered into Bree’s ear, “I’m sorry I brought you here. Just settle down- we’ll laugh about it in a minute.”
Lynette’s plee worked and Bree gripped her purse tightly, but sat back down.
Psychic Jane smiled triumphantly before taking Lynette’s hand, “You are full of psychic energy. You have potential. I can see it all around you, and I can feel it in your skin.”
“Really?” Lynette was stunned.
“I spoke earlier of my research study. I’d like to try and give you a little jumpstart to your mind reading abilities, if you’ll let me. Then you come back here and report any anomalies or thoughts you think you may have heard. If I’m right about you, you may be in for quite an awakening, and I may get published!”
“This isn’t going to interfere with my life or my work is it?” Lynette asked cautiously.
“It’s different for everyone, but the degree to which you listen is your choice and how much you interfere is also your choice.”
Bree was seething, and for some reason she didn’t like all of the attention that Psychic Jane was pouring on Lynette.
“I’m ready,” Lynette said. This was like a game for her, she didn’t expect anything to happen, but she surely hoped something would.
Psychic Jane took Lynette’s hand more firmly. She took a deep breath, and Lynette closed her eyes. Bree rolled hers. Suddenly, a wind began to swirl around the office, and Bree became startled as it blew her hair back forcefully. The candles extinguished, and the Lynette began to shake. Psychic Jane was concentrating extremely hard. Lynette looked like she was in pain. Bree jumped up, shouting, “stop it! You’re hurting her!” She grabbed Lynette’s other hand to try and pull her away. At that moment, a white ball of energy traveled from Psychic Jane and into Lynette. Simultaneously, another white ball of current was extracted from Bree and it took landed inside of Lynette. As soon as it had begun the wind died down, and a stillness returned. Lynette opened her eyes, “Did anything happen?”
Bree looked at her perplexed, the memories that were fresh-formed from only moments before had slipped away from her like a fog or waking up in the middle of a dream. She Psychic Jane a distrusting look, and then choosing to not waste any more time worrying about her, took Lynette’s arm and pulled her away down the hall and toward the door
“Hey, Flames, you owe me $15,” Psychic Jane yelled.
Bree opened her pocketbook, angrily slapped a $20 down on the front desk.
“Thank you, for the tip! Blondie, I’ll see you in a week.”
Bree’s mouth dropped open, how the hell did she know that she had given her a 20. She couldn’t see her. Lynette seemed loopy and somewhat out of it, and Bree’s thoughts suddenly centered on the law-suit that she would be serving Psychic Jane if anything happened to Lynette. Bree helped Lynette down the stairs as quickly as possible, and they walked in silence to the car.
“Lynette, are you okay?” Bree looked her up and down checking for any signs of physical damage.
Lynette stared back puzzled, she thought Bree had just said something completely inappropriate,”Um..what was that about your tongue?”
Bree’s cheeks reddened and she pinched herself, angry that she must have said something out loud. She unlocked the car and moved the driver’s side, “I didn’t say anything.. just are you okay.”
Lynette responded slowly trying to process the horrible feeling of embarrassment and the sharp pinch she felt in her side, “yeah, I’m fine.” Lynette got into the car, and immediately heard, saw and felt everything that Bree was feeling.
Bree plastered a smile on her face as she drove, she changed the topic, “I’m thinking of remodeling my bathroom. Maybe all of the bathrooms. I am going to pick a new theme for each one, do you think tropical would be tacky?”
Inside, she was seething about Lynette manipulating her into seeing that damn psychic. The whole thing was stupid and caused her unnecessary stress. The thing with George being murdered-the psychic was wrong it wasn’t murder at all. Bree’s thoughts continued to ramble.
Lynette was not able to process the difference between what Bree was saying and what she was thinking, began responding to both as best she could, “I really am sorry about the psychic. I don’t want you to feel manipulated. I-think tropical has been overdone.…I can help you pick out drapes tomorrow.”
Bree stopped the car and looked at her-“I don’t feel manipulated at all, where did you get that?”
“Oh, I thought you said something.”
“No, you thought it would be fun and it wasn’t. No harm done,” Bree was very good at hiding her emotions and so she was always surprised when someone cracked her facade.
Bree pulled into the driveway, and turned off the engine. “Despite the psychic thing I had fun today.”
Lynette smiled and reassured her as she got out of the car, “It was great, and give me a call tomorrow if you want me to come help you with the bathroom remodel.”
“Bye”
“Bye,” Lynette waved and then crossed the street to her own home and met her kids at the door. Tom was in the kitchen preparing dinner, Lynette greeted him, and then went back outside to play with the boys.
Bree entered her own home, and immediately began preparing dinner. Over in her yard, Lynette suddenly had flashes of linguine with clams. She could hear Bree’s thoughts, and see what Bree saw. Sometimes it faded out, but when she tuned in, it was all there. When Bree was eating she could taste it, when Bree was washing the dishes she could smell the soap. Later, as Lynette tucked her kids in bed, she sensed Bree having an argument with Andrew. The images and sensations were especially vivid if Bree had intense feelings toward whatever she was thinking, and the sensations were most vivid when Bree thought about Lynette, which happened with surprising frequency.
Lynette didn’t remember everything that had taken place with the psychic, but she was starting to think that she had somehow gained the ability to read Bree’s mind. She remained doubtful despite the evidence. There was always the possibility that she had fooled herself into thinking she could read Bree’s mind. Could Bree see what Lynette was thinking? Why was Bree thinking about her so much? Lynette felt herself beginning to panic, but she also felt quite exhausted as though she had just cleaned Bree’s entire house.
Lynette announced to Tom that she was heading for bed, and climbed the stairs. She changed into her Pjs, turned off the light and lay down. Maybe all of this would be clear tomorrow after a good night’s rest, but there in the dark and silence, up bubbled Bree’s thoughts louder and even more real than before.
Lynette closed her eyes and felt Bree cranking on the faucet to her bath tub. The temperature was just right and Bree poured in some strawberry bubble bath. She saw Bree stripping, and then folding her clothes. Bree piled her hair up on top of her head and fastioned it into a sloppy, but chic looking bun.
She slowly sunk down into the hot water, and Lynette felt the tension in her own body melting away. Bree sighed, and the sound echoing in the steamy bathroom sent shivers down Lynette’s back. Then something extremely unexpected happened. Bree began thinking about her-but she wasn’t thinking about the events of the day or her in general, Bree was specifically thinking about her body: her hands, her hair, her skin.
Lynette was looking in Bree’s mind’s eye at herself. She was hopelessly bewildered, but completely intrigued. Lynette debated why Bree was thinking about her in the bath, but she was quickly distracted by a sharp pleasurable sensation. Bree was blowing on her own nipple and Lynette felt her own go hard. Bree pinched it and rolled it, and her head went slack against the edge of the tub. She dragged her fingers across her skin, waking up Lynette’s own skin in the process. Tom came in and got under the covers next to her, but Lynette didn’t notice him--- she was lost in the odd new feeling of being dry, yet submerged in the bathtub, and feeling the touches, but not actually being touched. Lynette moaned subconsciously along with Bree, as she felt fingers teasing her body into a higher state of arousal.
Lynette could feel it all, the love and lust Bree felt towards her, and even the secret angst and shame that such taboo, unrequited feelings cost her. Bree splashed around and re-angled herself, as she bean to rhythmically move her fingers over her clit. Lynette felt so wanted and desired, and all of the passion Bree had reserved for her felt so wonderful. Lynette experienced Bree’s orgasm right along with her, the trouble was when Bree’s body had become sated and calm, Lynette’s was still just as aroused. She knew how easy it would be to crawl on top of Tom and take care of it, but she couldn’t use her husband to satisfy herself when she had been thinking about Bree.
Maybe she should cross the street and surprise Bree just as she was getting out of the bath. Now she knew that Bree would be more than happy to take care of her needs, but there was no way she felt brazen enough to just go bust in on her in her private moment-even if it was about her. Lynette went back to bed feeling stressed and needy. She would confront Bree in the morning, she tuned in to Bree’s thoughts once again and fell asleep just as Bree did, the smell of strawberry bubble bath fresh in her mind.
The next morning, Lynette awoke and immediately knew her phone was about to ring, as she saw her own number being dialed, and she answered it just before it even had the chance to ring, “Hello.”
On the other end, Bree sounded surprised at how quickly she answered, “Um..Hi, it’s me. Can you come over sometime today? I have some samples for the bathroom and I need your opinion.”
Lynette felt breathless, “Sure. Around noon?”
“Perfect, bye.”
Lynette spent the morning wondering if or how she should confront Bree and let her know that she knows about her thoughts. Lynette didn’t even know if she had any right to say a word-they were Bree’s thoughts, and if she wanted to share them she would. It truly thrilled her that she was able to have insight into Bree’s mind- uninhibited, since she so often wore her mask and very few people ever knew what she was truly thinking.
Lynette crossed the street just before noon, and still hadn’t made up her mind about what to do.
Upon answering the door Bree looked Lynette over, and thought “Beautiful,” Lynette blushed, and Bree verbalized, “Would you like some linguine for lunch? I have some leftover from last night.”
Lynette thought, so Bree really did make linguine for dinner, this is so real. Bree crossed to the living room and presented Lynette with coffee. I can feel how much she wants me. She wants to kiss me. I have to do something. I should kiss her, I should pull her down on top of me and just kiss her, and see how she responds. As these thoughts raced through Lynette’s mind, she realized she had yet to consider something: Did she want to kiss Bree? Did she feel the same way? She hadn’t been aware of it if she did, and now she thought she might just want to love her because she loved the feeling of being loved. This was a lot to deal with, and Bree was holding out a book full of swatches for her opinion on.
Lynette had to test her she pointed to the swatch, but looked right into Bree’s eyes, “What if you really liked this orchid pattern here, but you decided not to tell me that I you wanted it, because I didn’t seem to like it like that? Would I have to tell you how much I liked it, and how I wanted it more than any of the others for you to admit that you liked it too?”
Bree recoiled confused, she knew that Lynette was not talking about the swatches. Lynette heard her thoughts- ‘does she know, oh, my God. She knows.’ Bree stood up uncomfortably and moved away from Lynette. She excused herself to the kitchen to seek some sort of solace.
Lynette jumped right up and followed her, and she suddenly realized what she had to say, “Bree, I do know. I can hear your thoughts-the psychic did something.”
“No, no, that wasn’t real. Was it real? I’m going to die of embarrassment. I swear. How much of my thoughts have you heard? Since yesterday?” Bree shut her mouth in horror, and thought, ‘what if she knows about my bath’.
Lynette followed Bree as she ran from the kitchen to the couch once again, “Bree, come here. It’s okay. I know why you couldn’t tell me. I feel the same way.”
With her head hidden in a throw pillow, she yelled, “Please leave me alone. You couldn’t possibly feel like I feel. I don’t want you to feel this way- it’s a curse. It’s a punishment. I can’t have you and it’s a useless that I--(there was a pause Lynette heard ‘love you’ Bree said ‘want you’).
Lynette sidled up beside her and grabbed her hand, “Hey, let me prove it to you. I love you. I just realized it, but it’s been brewing for awhile. Let me just say - the things you thought about me last night. I’ve had thoughts similar to those about you over the years.”
Bree raised her head, and looked at Lynette, “Why are you trying to reassure me? I feel bad enough, and it’s my burden-we needn’t share this sin.”
“Lighten up, sweetie. I know how you really feel, and I know everything you think. I can’t help it I just do.”
“Can’t you like turn it off. It’s not fair for you to be able to invade my privacy like this,” Bree was feeling extremely angry, but underneath the anger Lynette knew she was feeling painfully violated and exploited. Lynette’s eyes filled with tears, and she apologized, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to listen, it just happened. I didn’t have control over it, and I just wanted to tell you that I felt the same way so---“
Bree cut her off and lunged toward her pressing her body into the couch. Lynette could honestly say Bree’s action surprised her, because if Bree had thought about it she would have known- this move was completely impulsive. Lynette was not impulsive when she reached up into Bree’s hair and gently nudged her face closer, until their lips met in a tender kiss.
Bree couldn’t conceal her joy, she let out a little half-laugh/half-mewl as Lynette intensified the kiss. Bree pressed herself into Lynette’s body, and her hands roamed her sides and stomach as they continued to kiss.
“Can we go upstairs? You owe me,” Lynette breathed.
Bree reluctantly removed her self from Lynette and took her hand, “how do I owe you?”
“Last night-- I was there entirely for bath time, but I didn’t… get clean, so to speak.”
Bree acted coy, “I see. You know, I like things clean… and sparkling, even if I have to really work at it, everything I touch comes out clean in the end.”
At the top of the stairs, Bree grabbed Lynette’s arms and saucily danced her backwards toward the bedroom.
“So are you going to run me through the dishwasher?” Lynette flirted.
“Actually, I am planning to use all of my resources,” Bree licked her lips and smiled, her eyes were dark and glinting.
“Scrubbing bubbles? A mop? What exactly do you plan to use?” Lynette crossed through the door and Bree rapidly guided her toward the bed.
“You really want me to say it?”
Lynette’s voice dropped an octave when she fully comprehended what Bree was about to say, and how serious she was about it “Yes, tell me.”
“My tongue. I am going to lick you clean,” and with that statement, Bree pulled off Lynette’s shirt, and pushed her down onto the bed. Not only could Lynette feel her own heart beating rapidly, she could feel Bree’s as well. She alternated between two realities each one full of ecstasy, now she really was being touched and kissed and she felt it doubly. It was odd and exciting, and out of curiosity she felt what it was like to kiss her self. She mentally turned down the volume on Bree’s feelings, because she wanted to savor her own pleasure as Bree explored her body. Bree teased her mercilessly, circling her tongue just around where she most needed to feel it.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Bree sucked her in, moaning into her body. Lynette gripped the sheets and let her self experience the moment for all it was worth. Her climax ripped through her body and sent her into a tailspin of pleasure.
Lynette awoke and slipped out of Bree’s embrace. It was almost dinnertime, and Tom would be wondering where she was. She looked at Bree resting, “Bree? Bree, wake up-I have to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Hmm, yeah okay-you’re beautiful.” Bree leaned out and Lynette met her for a brief kiss. She tried to tune into her thoughts, but she couldn’t hear anything.
Lynette walked home slightly nervous to see Tom. She thought he would know exactly what she had been up to, but when she walked through the door, she felt surprisingly at ease and her husband was none the wiser.
Lynette returned to the psychic the next day, “I heard my friend’s thoughts.”
Psychic Jane looked confused, “Are you serious? It actually worked.”
“I’m not kidding one bit. I experienced everything she experienced.”
“Really, so you know how she feels about you?” Psychic Jane inhaled her natural tobacco cigarette and looked at Lynette, fascinated.
“Wait, you could hear her thoughts too? Can you read my mind?”
“I could hear hers a little, but mainly I could see it in how she reacted to you. You, my dear-I can not read, something about you being psychic yourself. Are you still hearing her?”
“No, it stopped just like it started.”
“Did something powerful happen? I infused you with the gift through a powerful band of energy, and sometimes the energy can be expelled through an equally potent gesture, and then it’s either transferred or it dissipates.” Psychic Jane said, “So what happened?”
“I had several orgasms,” Lynette said plaintively realizing what must have done it.
“Yep, that’ll do it,” Psychic Jane stubbed out her cigarette. “Great, I still can’t prove this stuff, but that’s my third success story.”
“Well, it was weird, but quite a life-changing experience. Thanks,” Lynette left the office feeling oddly chipper and began to wonder about Bree.
Across town, Bree was running around confused. She couldn’t place the source of the cigarette smoke she smelled, or figure out how she knew Lynette was thinking of her.
In Marcia Cross news, she narrates a self-guided breast checker audio thing. How gay is that? Every woman in America is going to pay $5 for Marcia Cross to tell them how to touch their breasts. I really wish it was a video and Marcia demonstrated on herself-- I think if that was the case, they would really make a killing on it. She's not a doctor but she played one on TV, a demented psychotic one- but a doctor none-the-less. Oh, Marcia!
Another distraction was watching 'Housewives' tonight. Oh my god- first off it was amazing and a lot of things came to fruition. I just have to stop reading the god damned spoilers. I knew from them that Susan's house was going down and it was obvious it was Edie's doing, I knew about Andrew seducing Peter. I knew Bree was going to dump him off somewhere-- presumably Camp Henessy, but I was kind of ecstatic when she dumped him in the middle of nowhere. On IMDB some crazy women posted months ago- like at Christmas-- that Bree would eventually disown Andrew, and she said she was just like Bree and her daughter kept doing all these horrible things to her so she disowned her. Everyone on the board told the woman she needed extreme therapy, yada yada yada- well, crazy board poster woman was exactly right! Next week we get to see psychotic nervous breakdown Bree-- where is Danielle going if Bree checks herself into the mental hospital. Marcia Cross must be like, "why do I always have to get sexually rejected and wind up in the mental hospital? Do I exude crazy? Am I that typecast? Damn it!" Has she ever played a stable non-deranged lady? I'm sure she has, but no one is going to remember those roles?
I am so so close-- I mean I have never been closer! Close to what? Graduating College! Yes, this is it folks- finals week! My last finals week for ever and ever! Tomorrow we have a website critique and I have to film my entire cinematography project. Then Tuesday I have a monster modern art final which accounts for 50 percent of my grade, and that is pretty much it. Once I get that final done on Tuesday and film and edit cinematography I am completely done, done, done! So what did I decide to do today? Not working on anything that needs to be done, and writing fan fiction. I did have a blast writing this one though. I got the idea for it yesterday and I worked it pretty much all out in my head this morning, and it ended up having a lot of words- but I thought they were all neccessary. I wasn't sure if the pov and who was thinking what when would be clear, but I hope it is. If I had more time and energy I would have made the sexy scenes longer and more descriptive, but I pretty much conveyed everything. I see now that I don't develop Lynette's feelings for Bree to the point I would have liked to.
Author: Exquisitliltart
Title: Elaborate Fantasy
Rating: R
Description: Psychic Lynette
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Marc Cherry.
Word count: 4,612
Spoilers: None
The rain had subsided, but in its wake shallow puddles and humidity were left. Bree and Lynette, having just come from a delightful afternoon meal at their favorite downtown restaurant practically skipped down the street. It was Saturday, and Lynette was enjoying the well-deserved break from work and her family. Giddy on gossip, they passed by a sign that read “Tarot card readings with Psychic Jane.” The sign and the small office space had been there for a long time, but Bree and Lynette passed by it so often they had ceased to notice it. Today, it seemed to jump out at them and beckon them inside.
Bree stalled, she didn’t want to dabble in ‘the black arts’ as she called them, and ‘black arts’ qualified as anything outside of her rigid idea of Christianity.
“Come on, Bree. I know you’re curious,” Lynette tugged on Bree’s sleeve like a child begging her mother for a new toy. “You get to ask questions. It’s just fun. I’ll even pay for your reading.”
“Don’t whine to me, Lynette. It’s unbecoming. Well, I suppose if you want to, I’ll try it,” Bree smoothed down an errant stand of hair that had become frizzy in the weather, “Maybe I’ll just watch you get your cards read.”
Lynette rolled her eyes and headed up the narrow stairway of the dilapidated building. Once a prominent business area, now the rooms were occupied by small thrift shops, piercing/tattoo parlors, and hippy stores that sold tie-dyed shirts and bongs.
The door to the Psychic Jane’s was covered in chains, beads and tapestries, in fact- the entire interior was as well. Bree felt odd and irrationally nervous as she stepped through the doorway. She looked at Lynette who seemed to be entirely too excited about the prospect of a scam artist making up some random generalized info and then charging for it. Bree again tried to tell herself that the woman wouldn’t really be able to read her mind, but part of her believed in it, and that is what she hated the most--That this had the power to upset her ordered logical thinking, and make her feel edgy and tense.
Lynette sensed Bree’s apprehension, and continued to assure her. Psychic Jane was not in the small waiting parlor, but at the sound of the beads hitting the door she emerged from an adjunct room. Psychic Jane was all that one would hope for in a psychic. She was dressed in a large spacious muu-muu gown, mainly hot pink, but infused with a neon purple vine pattern. She had huge rose-tinted glasses, making it possible to see her eyes, but not fully comprehend their tone. The turban upon her dreadlocked head was hunter green, and looked as though it hadn’t been removed in months. Bree recoiled slightly, not from her appearance, but from the way she was gnawing on a foot-long meatball Subway sandwich. The corners of Lynette’s mouth curled into a smile.
“Helllooo! You want your fortune’s read? Tarot or what? I’m kind of on lunch break,” Psychic Jane spoke harshly.
Lynette perked up, “um..yeah. I mean whenever you’re ready. We were hoping for a tarot card reading.”
Psychic Jane crooked her sauce-covered finger at Lynette and then pointed it inward to lick it off with a smack. She swallowed the mouthful of meat and bread and said, “I’ve got something better for you. I’m trying out something- I think you’d be a good guinea pig- you have a lot of psychic potential.”
“You can tell that just from looking at her?” Bree had her mask-of-incredulity firmly in place and it wasn’t budging.
Psychic Jane refused to speak to non-believers, “Blondie, tell your friend to shut it, and get your asses in here.”
Lynette and Bree exchanged a worried glance and then meekly followed Psychic Jane through the beaded curtain, past the lava lamps and optic fiber lights all the way to the dusty back of the office. Psychic Jane pulled the window closed, cutting off the bright gray light, and gestured for Bree and Lynette to sit. The only places to sit were upon the bean bag chairs that had been shoddily repaired with duct tape. Bree, inwardly disgusted, was a good sport and slowly lowered her long frame onto the bag trying numerous times to position herself into her usual ladylike portrait. Lynette plunked herself down cross-legged and watched eagerly as Psychic Jane lit several candles and some incense, and chanted in her low-gravelly voice.
“Okay--business-- if this works I need you to come back in a few days and report your progress. I won’t charge you. It’s sort of a research study,” Psychic Jane said sweetly to Lynette. She then turned her attention to Bree for the first time and barked hoarsely, “Flames, you pay, and you go first.”
A deck of tarot cards emerged from somewhere inside Psychic Jane’s layers of muu-muu and she spread them out before Bree.
“Pick 6 cards and lay them face up in any order,” Psychic Jane commanded.
Bree looked doubtful, but did as she was told. She was still recoiling from the assertion that Psychic Jane could get away with calling her ‘Flames’.
Psychic Jane pulled out a box of yellow American Spirit’s from her muu-muu, packed them with the heel of her hand before pulling out the cigarette and lighting it, all the while never taking her eyes off of Bree’s cards.
“Um..I’d appreciate it if you didn’t smoke,” Bree’s tone was polite, but she was rapidly reaching the end of her rope.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop thinking some of the things you’re thinking about me, but I can’t really control that, and you can’t really control this,” Psychic Jane waved her cigarette right in Bree’s face before continuing in a resigned tone, “All you can ever control is your own self.”
Bree’s eyes narrowed and her voice lost all politeness, “Just read the cards, I’m paying you for this service.”
Lynette shifted uncomfortably, and rested her arm across Bree’s shoulder’s softly stroking her back to calm her down. Bree’s eye’s slipped shut and she shivered lightly. Psychic Jane did not miss this reaction and her eyebrows rose in smug understanding. She tuned her mind into Bree’s again and confirmed her suspicions.
Forging ahead, Psychic Jane looked at the cards before her and gave Bree a quick reading, “It seems you have a new romantic interest, maybe two romantic interests, which is a big step for you. According to this card someone close to you was murdered not too long ago-Wait no, it was two people who were murdered.”
Bree looked stunned, but still not entirely convinced, “Okay, so you are close-but I only have one partially romantic interest, and my husband was murdered, but the other person committed suicide.”
“Potatoes, Pototoes,” Psychic Jane shrugged. “It looks like you are in for some major life changes, especially regarding your son, and something is also happening with your daughter.”
“Wow, she knows you have two kids!” Lynette looked impressed.
“Now, is there anything you want to ask me?” Psychic Jane offered.
“Yes, how long have you been in this sham business, and do you treat all of your customers so rudely?” Bree said somewhat more angrily than she meant to.
With surprising calm, as if she had heard it all before, Psychic Jane responded, “I’ve been in this sham business long enough to know about people like you, my dear. I say what I mean and mean what I say, which is more than I can say for you. You should take a lesson from your friend here. Now, can you assure me you’ll be quiet and keep your negative thoughts on the back burner while I have a session with her, or do you need to leave?”
Bree pursed her lips and clumsily stood up, “I need to leave.”
Lynette jumped up, “Bree, come on. Don’t let her get to you. Just sit down for another minute.” Lynette lowered her voice and whispered into Bree’s ear, “I’m sorry I brought you here. Just settle down- we’ll laugh about it in a minute.”
Lynette’s plee worked and Bree gripped her purse tightly, but sat back down.
Psychic Jane smiled triumphantly before taking Lynette’s hand, “You are full of psychic energy. You have potential. I can see it all around you, and I can feel it in your skin.”
“Really?” Lynette was stunned.
“I spoke earlier of my research study. I’d like to try and give you a little jumpstart to your mind reading abilities, if you’ll let me. Then you come back here and report any anomalies or thoughts you think you may have heard. If I’m right about you, you may be in for quite an awakening, and I may get published!”
“This isn’t going to interfere with my life or my work is it?” Lynette asked cautiously.
“It’s different for everyone, but the degree to which you listen is your choice and how much you interfere is also your choice.”
Bree was seething, and for some reason she didn’t like all of the attention that Psychic Jane was pouring on Lynette.
“I’m ready,” Lynette said. This was like a game for her, she didn’t expect anything to happen, but she surely hoped something would.
Psychic Jane took Lynette’s hand more firmly. She took a deep breath, and Lynette closed her eyes. Bree rolled hers. Suddenly, a wind began to swirl around the office, and Bree became startled as it blew her hair back forcefully. The candles extinguished, and the Lynette began to shake. Psychic Jane was concentrating extremely hard. Lynette looked like she was in pain. Bree jumped up, shouting, “stop it! You’re hurting her!” She grabbed Lynette’s other hand to try and pull her away. At that moment, a white ball of energy traveled from Psychic Jane and into Lynette. Simultaneously, another white ball of current was extracted from Bree and it took landed inside of Lynette. As soon as it had begun the wind died down, and a stillness returned. Lynette opened her eyes, “Did anything happen?”
Bree looked at her perplexed, the memories that were fresh-formed from only moments before had slipped away from her like a fog or waking up in the middle of a dream. She Psychic Jane a distrusting look, and then choosing to not waste any more time worrying about her, took Lynette’s arm and pulled her away down the hall and toward the door
“Hey, Flames, you owe me $15,” Psychic Jane yelled.
Bree opened her pocketbook, angrily slapped a $20 down on the front desk.
“Thank you, for the tip! Blondie, I’ll see you in a week.”
Bree’s mouth dropped open, how the hell did she know that she had given her a 20. She couldn’t see her. Lynette seemed loopy and somewhat out of it, and Bree’s thoughts suddenly centered on the law-suit that she would be serving Psychic Jane if anything happened to Lynette. Bree helped Lynette down the stairs as quickly as possible, and they walked in silence to the car.
“Lynette, are you okay?” Bree looked her up and down checking for any signs of physical damage.
Lynette stared back puzzled, she thought Bree had just said something completely inappropriate,”Um..what was that about your tongue?”
Bree’s cheeks reddened and she pinched herself, angry that she must have said something out loud. She unlocked the car and moved the driver’s side, “I didn’t say anything.. just are you okay.”
Lynette responded slowly trying to process the horrible feeling of embarrassment and the sharp pinch she felt in her side, “yeah, I’m fine.” Lynette got into the car, and immediately heard, saw and felt everything that Bree was feeling.
Bree plastered a smile on her face as she drove, she changed the topic, “I’m thinking of remodeling my bathroom. Maybe all of the bathrooms. I am going to pick a new theme for each one, do you think tropical would be tacky?”
Inside, she was seething about Lynette manipulating her into seeing that damn psychic. The whole thing was stupid and caused her unnecessary stress. The thing with George being murdered-the psychic was wrong it wasn’t murder at all. Bree’s thoughts continued to ramble.
Lynette was not able to process the difference between what Bree was saying and what she was thinking, began responding to both as best she could, “I really am sorry about the psychic. I don’t want you to feel manipulated. I-think tropical has been overdone.…I can help you pick out drapes tomorrow.”
Bree stopped the car and looked at her-“I don’t feel manipulated at all, where did you get that?”
“Oh, I thought you said something.”
“No, you thought it would be fun and it wasn’t. No harm done,” Bree was very good at hiding her emotions and so she was always surprised when someone cracked her facade.
Bree pulled into the driveway, and turned off the engine. “Despite the psychic thing I had fun today.”
Lynette smiled and reassured her as she got out of the car, “It was great, and give me a call tomorrow if you want me to come help you with the bathroom remodel.”
“Bye”
“Bye,” Lynette waved and then crossed the street to her own home and met her kids at the door. Tom was in the kitchen preparing dinner, Lynette greeted him, and then went back outside to play with the boys.
Bree entered her own home, and immediately began preparing dinner. Over in her yard, Lynette suddenly had flashes of linguine with clams. She could hear Bree’s thoughts, and see what Bree saw. Sometimes it faded out, but when she tuned in, it was all there. When Bree was eating she could taste it, when Bree was washing the dishes she could smell the soap. Later, as Lynette tucked her kids in bed, she sensed Bree having an argument with Andrew. The images and sensations were especially vivid if Bree had intense feelings toward whatever she was thinking, and the sensations were most vivid when Bree thought about Lynette, which happened with surprising frequency.
Lynette didn’t remember everything that had taken place with the psychic, but she was starting to think that she had somehow gained the ability to read Bree’s mind. She remained doubtful despite the evidence. There was always the possibility that she had fooled herself into thinking she could read Bree’s mind. Could Bree see what Lynette was thinking? Why was Bree thinking about her so much? Lynette felt herself beginning to panic, but she also felt quite exhausted as though she had just cleaned Bree’s entire house.
Lynette announced to Tom that she was heading for bed, and climbed the stairs. She changed into her Pjs, turned off the light and lay down. Maybe all of this would be clear tomorrow after a good night’s rest, but there in the dark and silence, up bubbled Bree’s thoughts louder and even more real than before.
Lynette closed her eyes and felt Bree cranking on the faucet to her bath tub. The temperature was just right and Bree poured in some strawberry bubble bath. She saw Bree stripping, and then folding her clothes. Bree piled her hair up on top of her head and fastioned it into a sloppy, but chic looking bun.
She slowly sunk down into the hot water, and Lynette felt the tension in her own body melting away. Bree sighed, and the sound echoing in the steamy bathroom sent shivers down Lynette’s back. Then something extremely unexpected happened. Bree began thinking about her-but she wasn’t thinking about the events of the day or her in general, Bree was specifically thinking about her body: her hands, her hair, her skin.
Lynette was looking in Bree’s mind’s eye at herself. She was hopelessly bewildered, but completely intrigued. Lynette debated why Bree was thinking about her in the bath, but she was quickly distracted by a sharp pleasurable sensation. Bree was blowing on her own nipple and Lynette felt her own go hard. Bree pinched it and rolled it, and her head went slack against the edge of the tub. She dragged her fingers across her skin, waking up Lynette’s own skin in the process. Tom came in and got under the covers next to her, but Lynette didn’t notice him--- she was lost in the odd new feeling of being dry, yet submerged in the bathtub, and feeling the touches, but not actually being touched. Lynette moaned subconsciously along with Bree, as she felt fingers teasing her body into a higher state of arousal.
Lynette could feel it all, the love and lust Bree felt towards her, and even the secret angst and shame that such taboo, unrequited feelings cost her. Bree splashed around and re-angled herself, as she bean to rhythmically move her fingers over her clit. Lynette felt so wanted and desired, and all of the passion Bree had reserved for her felt so wonderful. Lynette experienced Bree’s orgasm right along with her, the trouble was when Bree’s body had become sated and calm, Lynette’s was still just as aroused. She knew how easy it would be to crawl on top of Tom and take care of it, but she couldn’t use her husband to satisfy herself when she had been thinking about Bree.
Maybe she should cross the street and surprise Bree just as she was getting out of the bath. Now she knew that Bree would be more than happy to take care of her needs, but there was no way she felt brazen enough to just go bust in on her in her private moment-even if it was about her. Lynette went back to bed feeling stressed and needy. She would confront Bree in the morning, she tuned in to Bree’s thoughts once again and fell asleep just as Bree did, the smell of strawberry bubble bath fresh in her mind.
The next morning, Lynette awoke and immediately knew her phone was about to ring, as she saw her own number being dialed, and she answered it just before it even had the chance to ring, “Hello.”
On the other end, Bree sounded surprised at how quickly she answered, “Um..Hi, it’s me. Can you come over sometime today? I have some samples for the bathroom and I need your opinion.”
Lynette felt breathless, “Sure. Around noon?”
“Perfect, bye.”
Lynette spent the morning wondering if or how she should confront Bree and let her know that she knows about her thoughts. Lynette didn’t even know if she had any right to say a word-they were Bree’s thoughts, and if she wanted to share them she would. It truly thrilled her that she was able to have insight into Bree’s mind- uninhibited, since she so often wore her mask and very few people ever knew what she was truly thinking.
Lynette crossed the street just before noon, and still hadn’t made up her mind about what to do.
Upon answering the door Bree looked Lynette over, and thought “Beautiful,” Lynette blushed, and Bree verbalized, “Would you like some linguine for lunch? I have some leftover from last night.”
Lynette thought, so Bree really did make linguine for dinner, this is so real. Bree crossed to the living room and presented Lynette with coffee. I can feel how much she wants me. She wants to kiss me. I have to do something. I should kiss her, I should pull her down on top of me and just kiss her, and see how she responds. As these thoughts raced through Lynette’s mind, she realized she had yet to consider something: Did she want to kiss Bree? Did she feel the same way? She hadn’t been aware of it if she did, and now she thought she might just want to love her because she loved the feeling of being loved. This was a lot to deal with, and Bree was holding out a book full of swatches for her opinion on.
Lynette had to test her she pointed to the swatch, but looked right into Bree’s eyes, “What if you really liked this orchid pattern here, but you decided not to tell me that I you wanted it, because I didn’t seem to like it like that? Would I have to tell you how much I liked it, and how I wanted it more than any of the others for you to admit that you liked it too?”
Bree recoiled confused, she knew that Lynette was not talking about the swatches. Lynette heard her thoughts- ‘does she know, oh, my God. She knows.’ Bree stood up uncomfortably and moved away from Lynette. She excused herself to the kitchen to seek some sort of solace.
Lynette jumped right up and followed her, and she suddenly realized what she had to say, “Bree, I do know. I can hear your thoughts-the psychic did something.”
“No, no, that wasn’t real. Was it real? I’m going to die of embarrassment. I swear. How much of my thoughts have you heard? Since yesterday?” Bree shut her mouth in horror, and thought, ‘what if she knows about my bath’.
Lynette followed Bree as she ran from the kitchen to the couch once again, “Bree, come here. It’s okay. I know why you couldn’t tell me. I feel the same way.”
With her head hidden in a throw pillow, she yelled, “Please leave me alone. You couldn’t possibly feel like I feel. I don’t want you to feel this way- it’s a curse. It’s a punishment. I can’t have you and it’s a useless that I--(there was a pause Lynette heard ‘love you’ Bree said ‘want you’).
Lynette sidled up beside her and grabbed her hand, “Hey, let me prove it to you. I love you. I just realized it, but it’s been brewing for awhile. Let me just say - the things you thought about me last night. I’ve had thoughts similar to those about you over the years.”
Bree raised her head, and looked at Lynette, “Why are you trying to reassure me? I feel bad enough, and it’s my burden-we needn’t share this sin.”
“Lighten up, sweetie. I know how you really feel, and I know everything you think. I can’t help it I just do.”
“Can’t you like turn it off. It’s not fair for you to be able to invade my privacy like this,” Bree was feeling extremely angry, but underneath the anger Lynette knew she was feeling painfully violated and exploited. Lynette’s eyes filled with tears, and she apologized, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to listen, it just happened. I didn’t have control over it, and I just wanted to tell you that I felt the same way so---“
Bree cut her off and lunged toward her pressing her body into the couch. Lynette could honestly say Bree’s action surprised her, because if Bree had thought about it she would have known- this move was completely impulsive. Lynette was not impulsive when she reached up into Bree’s hair and gently nudged her face closer, until their lips met in a tender kiss.
Bree couldn’t conceal her joy, she let out a little half-laugh/half-mewl as Lynette intensified the kiss. Bree pressed herself into Lynette’s body, and her hands roamed her sides and stomach as they continued to kiss.
“Can we go upstairs? You owe me,” Lynette breathed.
Bree reluctantly removed her self from Lynette and took her hand, “how do I owe you?”
“Last night-- I was there entirely for bath time, but I didn’t… get clean, so to speak.”
Bree acted coy, “I see. You know, I like things clean… and sparkling, even if I have to really work at it, everything I touch comes out clean in the end.”
At the top of the stairs, Bree grabbed Lynette’s arms and saucily danced her backwards toward the bedroom.
“So are you going to run me through the dishwasher?” Lynette flirted.
“Actually, I am planning to use all of my resources,” Bree licked her lips and smiled, her eyes were dark and glinting.
“Scrubbing bubbles? A mop? What exactly do you plan to use?” Lynette crossed through the door and Bree rapidly guided her toward the bed.
“You really want me to say it?”
Lynette’s voice dropped an octave when she fully comprehended what Bree was about to say, and how serious she was about it “Yes, tell me.”
“My tongue. I am going to lick you clean,” and with that statement, Bree pulled off Lynette’s shirt, and pushed her down onto the bed. Not only could Lynette feel her own heart beating rapidly, she could feel Bree’s as well. She alternated between two realities each one full of ecstasy, now she really was being touched and kissed and she felt it doubly. It was odd and exciting, and out of curiosity she felt what it was like to kiss her self. She mentally turned down the volume on Bree’s feelings, because she wanted to savor her own pleasure as Bree explored her body. Bree teased her mercilessly, circling her tongue just around where she most needed to feel it.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Bree sucked her in, moaning into her body. Lynette gripped the sheets and let her self experience the moment for all it was worth. Her climax ripped through her body and sent her into a tailspin of pleasure.
Lynette awoke and slipped out of Bree’s embrace. It was almost dinnertime, and Tom would be wondering where she was. She looked at Bree resting, “Bree? Bree, wake up-I have to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Hmm, yeah okay-you’re beautiful.” Bree leaned out and Lynette met her for a brief kiss. She tried to tune into her thoughts, but she couldn’t hear anything.
Lynette walked home slightly nervous to see Tom. She thought he would know exactly what she had been up to, but when she walked through the door, she felt surprisingly at ease and her husband was none the wiser.
Lynette returned to the psychic the next day, “I heard my friend’s thoughts.”
Psychic Jane looked confused, “Are you serious? It actually worked.”
“I’m not kidding one bit. I experienced everything she experienced.”
“Really, so you know how she feels about you?” Psychic Jane inhaled her natural tobacco cigarette and looked at Lynette, fascinated.
“Wait, you could hear her thoughts too? Can you read my mind?”
“I could hear hers a little, but mainly I could see it in how she reacted to you. You, my dear-I can not read, something about you being psychic yourself. Are you still hearing her?”
“No, it stopped just like it started.”
“Did something powerful happen? I infused you with the gift through a powerful band of energy, and sometimes the energy can be expelled through an equally potent gesture, and then it’s either transferred or it dissipates.” Psychic Jane said, “So what happened?”
“I had several orgasms,” Lynette said plaintively realizing what must have done it.
“Yep, that’ll do it,” Psychic Jane stubbed out her cigarette. “Great, I still can’t prove this stuff, but that’s my third success story.”
“Well, it was weird, but quite a life-changing experience. Thanks,” Lynette left the office feeling oddly chipper and began to wonder about Bree.
Across town, Bree was running around confused. She couldn’t place the source of the cigarette smoke she smelled, or figure out how she knew Lynette was thinking of her.