By Shotzette


By Shotzette
Rated PG-13
Holiday Fan Fic Exchange 2009

This is only a work of fanfiction, written for laughs and giggles. It is not intended and in no way could infringe upon anyone's copyrights or intellectual properties. Really.

Laverne took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. Crazy, she thought, as she looked at herself in the full length mirror. Sixty five is when most people retire, not when they get married. Again. Laverne winced at the malicious little voice in her head. This was going to be tougher than she thought. Then again, when had life ever been easy for her?

She forced a smile and preened before the mirror. The ivory pantsuit cost more than she'd wanted to spend, but it was flattering and comfortable; a word that she'd never used before to describe her previous wedding outfits. From her mother's poorly altered and generally unflattering wedding dress that she wore when she walked down the aisle with Tony to the overly ornate and non-breathing acetate monstrosity that she wore when she and Sam had tied the knot; her current garb was the only one chosen by herself one hundred percent. Fortunately, with a guest list of eight, she didn't think she'd hear any complaints. The complainers had decided to stay home; those who were still speaking to her.


She spun around at the sound of a familiar male voice. 'Lenny!"

"That's my name, don't wear it out," he said, before she grabbed him in a hug that would make Brett Favre envious.

"I'm so glad you came!"

"I'm sorry," he said, flinching back. "That was earlier, and I don't think I got any on your outfit."

"Len!" She swatted his arm playfully. Laverne took a step back and gave her old friend the once over. A little less hair and a few more wrinkles and pounds, but Lenny was still Lenny. "I meant it, Len. I'm real glad you're here."

He shrugged and flashed his goofy grin. "Toronto's only a two hour drive. You think I'd let that stop me from seeing you get married? C'mon!" The last sentence was punctuated with a playful, yet slightly painful, punch to her left shoulder.

"Thanks, Len. It means a lot to me."

"Wow," he said with a wink and a nudge, "so after all these years; you and Shirley, huh?"

"Yeah." Her brow furrowed with suspicion. "You're okay with that, aren't you? Cuz, if you ain't, you should probably head out." The faces of Shirley's eldest son and Laverne's two middle daughters flashed before her eyes. At least the three of them had the guts to tell them in person that they wouldn't be attending the wedding; or the circus, as Todd Meaney had put it.

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it? I mean, the invite said 'Laverne and Shirley' didn't it? I mean," he said as he scratched his thinning pompadour, "I had to have Squiggy read it to me since it had all of those curlycue letters and I ain't never been good at reading them no how."

"Yeah," she said, as she patted his arm in a comforting manner, "I know you ain't. So, you're really okay with this?"

He blinked as if surprised. "Yeah, Vernie. I mean, you two have been living together for how long?
You should make it legal. Then again, I'm kind of an old fashioned guy, remember?"

Laverne's face fell. "It's only going to be legal in Canada, Len. Not back home. I mean, in the eyes of the law, we'll still be roommates."

"Roommates who get naked together," he said, as his teeth found his palm.

Laverne's face flushed and she swatted him in the arm. "Len! Well, yeah," she admitted.

"So it's only legal here." Lenny shrugged again. "Big deal. I like living in Canada. I mean, back in sixty-seven, I just didn't want to go to Vietnam. Then I met Jackie..."

Laverne grinned as she remembered the photos that Len mailed her religiously every Christmas of his wife and their ever-growing brood. She struggled to remember if they had six or seven kids. "I remember, Len. Squiggy kept talking about you like you were still with us. It got a little creepy."

"The point is, I did what I knew was right for me. Just like you and Shirley are doing now."

"Thanks, Len." Her eyes began to sting as she felt tears well up in her eyes. "Not everyone else has been as understanding as you are."

"They just don't know you and Shirley the way I do. It was meant to be."

"It think it was. I mean, I just sort of always ended up at her place after each break up. Then when she and Walter split up... It seems like it's been such a long trip to go next door, though."

"When did you know?"

"Know what?"

He rolled his eyes at her, as if exasperated. "That Shirley was your Mr. Right. Er uh, Miss Right. Mrs. Right? Ms.?"

"I think part of me always knew, but I just didn't know it. Does that make sense?"

"No, but most things don't make sense to me until Squiggy explains them."

"It's like a bunch of little things, the ways she's always understood, how she held my hand, the way that she'll always care... I can't put it all together into one moment, just a lot of wonderful reasons."

Lenny let out his goofy walrus guffaw. "Squiggy likes to think it started back in Milwaukee with a six pack of Shotz and a pillow fight while you was in your undies."


"Can he keep believing that?"

"Whatever," she said, as she shook her head and took one last look in the mirror before leaving the room to start the newest-and quite possibly-most meaningful chapter of her life. "By the way, is he here?"

"Yeah. He's down the hall in the other dressing room with Shirley."

Laverne felt her heart melt. "Aww, is he giving her a pep talk too?"

Lenny shook his head. "Nah, he said that he would try to cure her. With his pants off."

Later, as Laverne walked triumphantly back up the aisle, she congratulated herself in choosing a bridal outfit that she could run in.