Title: Blue Christmas
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: For the 2011 Christmas exchange.
Setting: California, post season 8
Summary: For as warm as California is, this Christmas is cold.

The Christmas tree was decorated by the window, the eggnog was chilled and dusted with nutmeg, and the record player was pumping out a never-ending spin cycle of holiday tunes. The scene was the same this year as every year, only this time, there was no bird in the oven, only a single present under the tree, and Laverne DeFazio was wearing a ratty old t-shirt instead of two layers of flannel, knee socks, and a bathrobe. She was alone on Christmas during her third year in California, with only her father to keep her company - which he didn't do very well. Right now, he was probably in his trailer, sitting in his favorite chair and being serenaded by Perry Como recordings and comforted by the warmth of an entire bottle of Jack Daniels. He hadn't been the same since Edna had left him, and neither had Laverne. Left by her stepmother, her best friend, her best friend's ex-boyfriend, her best guy friend, her best guy friend's best guy friend, Laverne was in a constant state of unhappiness. She tried, like her father, to comfort herself with booze, but hated throwing up and was getting sick of the headaches. She moved onto trying to comfort herself with sex, but realized that her fingers did a better job and never called her a cheap slut in the morning. So she went to work every day and stayed home every night, crying and eating and touching herself as needed, wishing that just one of her friends would walk through her front door. But it had been three months since she had seen or heard from any of them. The last friend to walk out her door was Lenny. He never said why he needed to go or where he was going or when he'd come back, but he made love to her that night like no one ever had before, his tears splashing down on her cheek with each chanting of "I love you" and "sorry" that he spoke. She had realized that night that she loved him too, but it was too late to say it back after he crossed the threshold and out her door with his guitar and Jeffery and no permanent address.

So here it was, the loneliest holiday season Laverne had ever endured. Funny that she had always thought that Elvis' "Blue Christmas" was the sexiest of Christmas songs. his year, instead of making out with Elvis under the mistletoe, she wanted to give him a sock in the nose for singing those words. Right as she was contemplating spiking her eggnog with bourbon and ending her night in tears, there was a knock at the door. "Oh God, not Pop," she mumbled to herself. The last thing she wanted to do on Christmas Eve was listen to her fathers drunken blubbering. She begrudgingly shuffled out the kitchen, through the living room, and up to the front door, praying that it would be one of the new neighbors asking her for a cup of sugar for baking. As she fluffed her hair, ignoring the fact that her attire gave her the effect of being homeless, she hoped that maybe the neighbor would let her make Christmas cookies, too.

"Lenny."

"Laverne."

They stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. "Where've you been?"

Knowing that no explanation will be good enough for her, he pushes a stray curl behind her ear. "Merry Christmas."

She gulps and smacks his hand away. "Len..."

He shuffles awkwardly. "I went back to Milwaukee." She looks at him with a million questions in her eyes until he stares past her. "Can we take this into the living room, Vernie? This doorway stuff is makin' me claustrofabric."

She smiles. The first smile in months. "That's phobic, you big dope."

"Phobic, fabric - either way, I'm afraid of 'em both." He sits down on the couch as she offers him a beer or soda - he takes neither. She sits next to him, their thighs touching.

"Why'd you go back to Milwaukee, Len? There's nothin' there anymore. Shotz is goin' down the tube, all our friends are here..."

"All our friends were here, Vernie. I don't know if you noticed that. Right before I left, you were the only one here. After Squiggy died, I had to..." he choked up. She stroked his neck, scooting closer and pulling him into a hug.

"I know, Len. I know. But I was hoping you'd stick around. I wanted to help you get through it, Len. I've been worried sick not knowing where you were."

"You did help, Vernie. You helped as much as you could. You missed so many days of work, you almost got fired. Just because of stupid me."

She punches him in the arm. "Don't ever call my best guy friend stupid again, okay?" He cracks a smile. "But... I don't understand, Len," she asks, her brows furrowing. "I thought we were getting close. That night we... and you..."

He heaves a sigh, remembering a sea of kisses and nerve endings and touches and warmth. He wiggles out of her arms and looks at her. "That night meant everything to me, Vernie. I went to Milwaukee because..." he thinks for a minute. "California's a mess. We've never been happy here. I wanted to go back and see if it still felt like home. I wanted to see if the snow was the same and if the streets smelled the same way. If we could go back."

She stops and thinks. "Go back?"

"Yes! California's never been home. It was for a while when we was all here, but... what's keeping us here?" She motions like she's about to say something, but he cuts her off. "Vernie, I went back and I stayed at our old building. Not the same apartment, but the same exact building. The Pizza Bowl's not there anymore and Shotz doesn't need any workers, but the streets are the same. Al's is still there. I saw Big Rosie at the drug store and-"

"Is she still fat?"

"Big as a house!"

"Good." She pauses for a minute. "Len... you mean to tell me you left me here. By myself. For three months. Without telling me where you were. And you were having the time of your life back in Milwaukee? While I cried myself to sleep every night?"

"Vernie, it wasn't the time of my life. I missed you every day. You're missing the point."

She stares. "What's the point?"

He moans in aggravation. "Vernie, you and me... when we... you know." She smiles and nods. "We were meant for that. I was leavin' for Milwaukee that night to see if it was still the same. To see if it's a place that you, me, and your Pop could go back to. To live there. I've wanted you and I to be together for so long, and that night, when you didn't know where I was going or when I'd be back, you got scared. I didn't know we'd end up doin' it together that night, I thought you was just gonna cry. But I knew that after you made love to me, I had to keep going to Milwaukee. I want us to have a life together. One we can be happy with. California doesn't have that."

She looks at the star on her Christmas tree. The one that she made in fourth grade art class. The one Lenny tried to help her put glue on, but instead got it in her hair. She kicked him in the shins over that, before helping him off of the ground and walking him to the nurses office. She looks back at him. "You're right, Len. This isn't home. It never was."

He smiles, overjoyed that she understands. "Do you wanna go now?"

She touches his hand. "Not now, Len. My Pop's too drunk to have a discussion like this, and besides," she whispers, inching closer to his lips, "I've got that beautiful twinkly tree over there I want to enjoy and," she pauses, nipping at his bottom lip, "I wanna dance with you to Blue Christmas. You know what that song does to me."

He moans from the inside out as her hand wanders up his leg. "Well, I do, now."


THE END.