Title: Another Kind Of Love
Author: Emily
Email: lavennyfic@gmail.com
Catagory: Drama

Rating: PG (Adult content)

Het/Gen/Bi: Het

Parts: 1/1

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Paramount. Don’t sue me - I might cry.
Pairing: LDF/LK
Distribution: I’m keeping my fic on here for now. E-mail me if you have any requests.

Authors Notes: Short drabble.

Setting: Milwaukee
Summary: She would be his mother tonight.

“Hi, Laverne!”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Her eyes blearily focused on his form, and the old DeFazio shouting- instinct kicked in.

“LEN! What the heck are you doin’ insida here? It’s…” she glanced at the clock. “…two o’clock in the morning!”

“Well… ya weren’t in bed…”

“No, but I fell asleep on the couch watchin’ Sea Hunt!” Realization dawned on her. “Awww… I missed Lloyd Bridges’ wet tush!” He chuckled at her disappointment.

“Len…”

He stood in the doorway, the expression on his face that of a child. “Huh?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOIN’ HERE?! And how’d you get in?”

“One question at a time, Laverne… one question at a time.” She noticed that he shifted uncomfortably in his boots. He looked like a big oaf in his striped pajamas, Lone Wolf jacket, and black motorcycle boots; his greased blonde hair mussed. “First of all… I still have the spare key you and Shirl gave me and Squig when ya went away. And second of all…” He paused.

It was two in the morning. She didn’t want to play games. “YEAH…?”

“I wanna talk to you about somethin’, Vernie.”

“You came down her in the middle of the night and wrecked my beauty sleep just so you could talk?”

“Yeah.”

She glared at him, groaning and shoving her face into the ‘Hi Sailor’ pillow. His sniffling snapped her out of her hissy fit.

Her head lifted, and her heart immediately sank upon the sight of his red, tear-stained face.

“What’s wrong, Len?” she tried to decipher what was going through his mind, to no avail. “Len – come over here…” she patted the cushion beside her. As he walked past her, she noticed that he had Jeffery and his blankie – the one he had ever since she had known him, and that he hid from everyone but her – in his right hand. He had them hidden behind his leg, probably because he thought she was going to immediately toss him out of the apartment.

He plunked down on the couch next to her, and she lazily stroked his back as he wept.

“Now what is it?” she questioned, lifting his chin and searching his blue eyes.

“I had a dream about my mom, Vernie…”

Her heart slumped even lower within her; yet she knew she didn’t need to ask what it was about. They each knew what it was like without a mother, and had helped each other cope through the years. As she held him closer to her body, his blanket against her stomach and his sleek hair against her neck, she slowly rocked him back and forth.

And as a fresh tear sneaked down her face, she knew that she would have to be his mother until morning came.