Be Water
By Missy

SERIES: Being Water
PART: 1 of 1
RATING: NC-17 (explicit heterosexual sexual content)
PAIRING(s): None
DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, Myself and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"

Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their address and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!
CATEGORY: Romance
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: California Canon
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Lenny tries to leave California before he can be drafted, but Laverne won't let him go.
NOTES: Part of the Laverne and Shirley Christmas Fanfiction Exchange;; the person I got? Will love this one.

****

Be Water, My Friend
-Bruce Lee

He tested the handle of his suitcase. Seemed sturdy enough to carry him through the day. Couldn't hurt to check it one more time.

He didn't know why he was stalling; he didn't have time to waste. It was either go to Canada or go back into basic training, and he couldn't handle that. It had been fine to be a soldier in peacetime. But now? For a war he didn't believe in?

He found himself packing while he should be traveling. Just packing everything and preparing to leave the world he knew behind.

Squiggy would receive a note; God knew, the little guy would understand. He didn't want to fight any more than Lenny did.

And yet Lenny's boots scuffed against the floor; complaining as he made his exit. They didn't want to leave, either.

Forcing himself to walk, he passed from the familiar, comfortable structures he had learned to like to the darker, rougher bars near Studio City. His wish to return home was suddenly circumvented by a deep thirst.

There was more than enough change in his pocket for a beer and the bus. And the bar he stood beside wasn't nearly as scummy-looking as Moby Dominic's had been...

***

"Om mah ni magh ran Ommmm...."

If she tried hard enough, she could block it out. Her eyes locked on a particularly smutty True Confession. Judy, The Hooker With a Heart Of Gold, was just preparing to score her first john when another low-pitched moan came from the brunette settled upon the pink towel at the center of the room.

Laverne's magazine, when it impacted with her lengthening hair, barely made her flinch.

"Laverne, your negative chi has no effect on my inner calm."

Laverne snorted, "yeah, Shirl. I know more about your aura then I ever wanted."

"I'm sorry you can't find the enlightenment I've discovered."

"Enlightenment? Ya sit on the floor, stare at the wall and moan!"

"Well, when you put it that way it just makes it sound like one of your last dates!"

Laverne smiled haughtily; still in a teasing mood, she added, "and that ain't why you're sittin' on the floor moanin'?"

"My spiritual enlightenment has nothing to do with hooking a date, Laverne."

"Sure. Like when ya thought bein' a model would get us guys."

"Meditation isn't a low-cut dress," Shirley pointed out. "Honestly, Laverne, if you would just attend ONE of the yogi's classes..."

"I work overtime at Bardwells six days a week! I ain't getting' out of bed that early on a Sunday morning for anything besides church, a hot cup of coffee or a real swell date."

"HELLO!" Squiggy slammed into the room with an amazing amount of force, causing the walls to vibrate unmercifully. Shirley refused to notice him and continued with her meditation and chanting. Laverne, however, noticed the haggard expression and the letter clutched in his hand.

"What's wrong?"

Squiggy had broken off from his original stride and was staring blankly at the meditating Shirley Feeney. He crept over to Laverne and whispered, "you hold her down and I'll get a priest."

"Squig, she ain't possessed. She's meditating."

"She's sick."

"No. Tell me what you want, or get out."

Squiggy held out the note to her; as she took it, Laverne recognized Lenny's childish scrawl. She skimmed through it, palms slick with sweat, heartbeat escalating with every word.

"Watch him!" Laverne demanded of Shirley, charging past Squiggy and grabbing her discarded purse from the coat rack.

"Geez, woman!" Squiggy yowled as she pushed by.

"Geez yourself! Why didn't ya go stop him, ya big coward?"

"Oh, the great Laverne DeFazio wants me to hand my best friend over to Uncle Stan so he can goes and get himself killed?"

"Don't you get that goin' to the border's worse? He could get thrown into jail, Squiggy!"

"So what? It's still better than dyin' in a jungle. And it's not even the fun dyin', like gettin' eaten by a bunch of pretty cannibals..."

"Squiggy, shut up. Shirl, don't make any phone calls, and if ya don't hear anything from me by midnight, call Pop." Laverne stuffed the note into her purse, her fingers brushing against something smooth and round hidden among the Kleenexes and lipstick at the bottom. Her fists closed around her communion day prayer beads.

She would need that sort of strength to find Lenny in the maze of a night-drugged Burbank.

***

He had emptied two bottles of cheap, sour beer by the time Laverne found him.

"Len?"

"Hey, Laverne," he smiled blearily. "You gotta have some of this beer. It's real..."

"You ain't goin' to Canada, Len."

"Aww, the train! I'm gonna miss it..."

"So? You ain't goin' nowhere, Len."

"You want me to go there?" his smile turned bitter. "I shoulda guessed. You always wanted me outta the way..."

"Lenny..."

"...Don't like me. Nah; LIKE ME LIKE A FRIEND."

"Stop yelling! You want the whole bar to hear?" Laverne, unselfconscious, was not aware that her volume matched Lenny's.

"Why? You don't want everyone ta know that you don't like me? You told the whole world!"

"Lenny, you're gettin' beer everywhere!"

"A man's got a right to his last night, Laverne," he retorted. The rest of his mug spilt on her skirt.

"Aww, this was brand-new..."

"Lady, is this guy bothering you?"

Laverne didn't even look up from her skirt, which she continued to blot at frantically, "no, he's a friend of mine..."

"I've seen situations like this before. You want me to take him down?"

"Hey, buddy, she's here with me..." Lenny started to protest.

"Nevermind; buy me a drink?" Laverne cut in.

Lenny glared at Laverne, who shrugged helplessly as she allowed the taller, muscular man to drag her away. She was trying to protect him, he understood, to his complete resentment.

Story of my life, Lenny thought grimly, as he lay his head upon the bar


***

"So, how you feel about coming to my place?"

Laverne's eyes darted nervously down to her glass. The hour she had spent talking to Lt. John Davidson had proven to be boring. Strangely, she had always found military men attractive and interesting; now she only yearned to have a talk with Lenny. "Uh...I'm kinda busy tonight..."

"On a Saturday?"

"Uh, yeah." She dodged his arms as he tried to wrap it around her shoulders.

"Come on, pretty lady. Don't be coy..."

"I told ya, I'm busy!"

"Look..."

Laverne hadn't seen Lenny come up behind her, but she felt his arm wrap around her waist. "You heard the lady."

"This isn't your business..." The sailor stuffed his right hand into his pocket.

"Lenny..." She warned.

"No! I'm gonna take care of you for once, Laverne. She's my girl! She came here with me..."

Laverne saw the silver flash of a switchblade as the sailor withdrew his hand from his pocket and opened her mouth. Her scream was silenced as the hard floor rushed toward her and she fell out of her heels and onto the sticky barroom floor.

She flopped over onto her back inelegantly, just in time to see Lenny knock the man forwards, across the bar, pressing him to the wood with a hammerlock and twisting his arm behind his back.

"Lenny!" she screamed, trying to get to her feet. She realized that Lenny had pushed her out of the way...that the man had, drunkenly, tried to stab her. But Lenny was lost in some other universe, a frightening, detached mask of anger upon his face. He was almost unrecognizable in his viciousness, twisting on the man's arm once more. Whimpering, John stopped his protesting. The sound of a knife clattering to the floor echoed in the silence.

Everything moved in slow motion. The other bar patrons cheering him on, saying that John was a pain in the ass, always beating up people...the police entering the bar, pulling Lenny off, listening to the pleas of the crowd.

"He didn't do anything," Laverne said of Lenny. "It's the other one, he tried to touch me..."

The eyewitness reports were enough evidence; the officer released Lenny from his bonds. Like a war prize, they carried out John with an escort of three men.

The bar's other patrons began to pat Lenny on the back, shouting words of praise. They called him brave. But now that the intruder was gone, his eyes focused on her.

"Len..." She breathed, lying her hand against his abdomen. She frowned, feeling something wet beneath her hand, and lifted it away.

Blood stained her fingertips.

"Lenny!" But he faded rapidly, tumbling to the floor at her feet.


***


"Remember, Laverne; everything happens for a reason."

Laverne crossed her eyes at the payphone. She didn't see any reason why Lenny would be stabbed by a drunk in a bar and have to get stitches.

This marked the end of the journey; his stitches were coming out and the wound was, at last, healed. She had driven him there to have them out, willingly.

"You're going to see him again tonight."

"Shirl, I ain't seeing Lenny.."

"And you're protesting too much. For heaven's sake, Laverne, you've spent every day for the past month with Leonard."

"I'm just takin' care of him. You want me to leave him alone with Squiggy?"

"You know it's about more than that."

Laverne's moan rumbled through the line.

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Shirl, how'd you know that?" Laverne's tone showed such pure fear that Shirley chuckled.

"My third eye is open. Laverne, Mother Theresa says that you can only do small things with great love. Think of all of the boys we've tried to date: doctors and golf pros and lawyers and businessmen. And they've all turned out to be complete and total creeps."

"So?"

"So maybe we've been wasting our love. Maybe dreaming big is a beautiful thing, but the greatest dreams are all around us."

"Shirl, you're readin' that out of a book."

"It's how I feel!"

"It's that weird lotus stuff. You're actin' just like you were when ya wanted to be a beatnik!"

"Would we even be having this conversation if you felt you had to declare yourself uninterested in Leonard?"

"No!"

"The fact that you have to defend yourself at all says everything."

Laverne gulped. "I gotta go, Shirl."

"I only asked because I need to know how many fish sticks to defrost..."

"...I'll take him out to dinner. It's Christmas Eve..."

"If you come home later than seven, I won't be here."

"Waitaminute, where're you going?"

"Carmine promised to show me the tar pits."

"Shirl, no one ever goes to the tar pits at night, except to...Oh, Shirl!"

"Don't wait up for me, Laverne. I promise to give you the juicy parts in the morning."

Laverne held onto the phone for a millisecond after the dialtone began to burr in her ear.


***

They walked together after a hearty meal; his hand tucked into hers. She couldn't recall when she had taken his, but they were joined comfortably, minimally, the entire way back to Laurel Vista.

Laverne didn't want to think about what they would do if his draft notice came out. He could defer for the moment, but after...why was she thinking of death?

Maybe she wanted to drive its specter away.

She had come so close to losing him; the realization that he could have died on the dirty floor of that bar still rang through her psyche. She knew that she couldn't stand for it to happen.

And it wasn't just because he was her close friend. Spending extra time with him over the past month as she continued to find Shirley's chanting unendurable, she realized how well they fit together.

Realized that her feelings were more complex and less black and white.

She knew, by now, that she did have feelings for Lenny, feelings that his stabbing had brought out, but ones she had harbored and tried to hide for years but now tumbled out in an incomprehensible mess whenever she thought of him.

She opened the door to her apartment, stood there in the low light of the lamp. Shirley had erased any evidence of dinner; only the vague scent of kitchen spray in the air hinted that she had eaten at all.

Lenny stuffed his hands awkwardly into his pockets. "Thanks for dinner, Laverne."

"Welcome. It's Christmas."

He smiled awkwardly. "Yeah. Remember when you and me and Shirl and Squiggy usedta get together every Christmas at the Pizza Bowl?"

"Yeah; now Squiggy's got Rhonda, and Shirl's with Carmine..."

"And you got me." She studied him quietly. "Whoops..."

"It's okay..." She smiled. "Yeah, I kinda like it."

"There can't be an 'us' anymore, Laverne. Not that there was..."

She frowned, "what?"

"After Christmas, I gotta get to Canada."

"And what if you get there and they arrest you?"

"That ain't gonna happen, Laverne..."

"YES, it will. They're gonna find everyone who ran away and take them in! It ain't right, Len; it ain't right to go runnin' out on your civil duty. I don't believe in the war at all, but what if they throw you away? How'm I supposed to live..."

"Huh?"

"How'm I supposed to stand bein' without you?"

He saw her expression through the dim light. She looked so lost, so small. He was no stronger than she, and echoed her sentiment out loud. "How'm I supposed to live without you?" he echoed.

"It's too much...it's all too new..."

"Laverne..."

"No..."

"Push me away, Vernie. Get rid of me. This is only gonna hurt us too much if I..."

But she closed the gap between them. "I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. When you saved my life, I realized how much..." She buried her face in his white tee-shirt. "Make it go away, Len. Make me stop being afraid."

His fingertips slipped beneath her chin, lifting her eyes to his. They were lake-clear as they looked into her own. "Do you really love me?"

"Yeah," the word came out on a whimper as she tried desperately to master her own feelings.

"Why now?"

"Len, all my life, I've been lookin' for a hero. Someone big and strong like my Pop..." Her fingers tested the warm, firm flesh of his bicep. "I guess you had to do something big and macho to wake me up. It's real sad, and maybe I'm dumb, but now I know...you'd do anything for me...and I'd do anything for ya..."

"Vernie..."

"Shirl was right...maybe all of her lotus stuff ain't so crazy. She could see what I couldn't. Oh, Len, I wanna be your girlfriend, all the way. I need you so much..." Her fingers tugged insistently at his tee shirt.

It was too good to be true. "Love you..." The words tumbled out without regret.

He kissed her, their feelings turning swiftly toward passion. His tongue tickled tentatively against the tip of hers, his hands exploring her waist and skirting across her spine. She opened her mouth, sucking him inside with a moan. Allowing, passive, she teased him before he took control, knotting himself around her.

The zipper on the back of her dress rasped open. Lenny's warm, callused palms caressed the vulnerable, bare skin he revealed, marveling at the difference in her body. She shuddered as he rubbed the sensitive spots about her spine, breaking their kiss to shimmy the outfit away.

He gaped for a moment at the sight of her in her slip. She made quicker work of that herself, until she stood completely nude before his questing eyes.

Tentatively, he reached out and stroked her bare stomach, avoiding the more sensitive portions of her anatomy.

"Do I look okay?" Laverne nibbled at her lower lip, her usual self-confidence fleeing before his scrutiny. Fonzie hadn't stared, and neither had Sonny. Not even Randy had looked at her naked body with such tender eyes.

Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, burying his face between her breasts. Laverne sighed at the warmth of his mouth against her cooling flesh.

"All I ever wanted was to see ya naked," he admitted. "You're gonna give me more, aren't ya?"

For Laverne, this was the ultimate form of surrender. To allow herself to be completely vulnerable for the first time would be dangerous. She could only nod her head.

"You wanna...see me?"

She nodded again, a smile creeping across her lips.

He blushed. "I dunno if I can..."

"We can't do it with just me naked."

He seemed to want to ask how she knew, but instead he rose to his feet. His eyes locked to hers, he took off his Lone Wolf jacket, his tee-shirt, his boots and socks. For the longest time, he fumbled with his belt, biting his lower lip. Her hands joined his, but she kept getting tangles in the leather. At last, the buckle came free, and he, in his enthusiasm, nearly caught his thumb in the zipper of his jeans. She wanted to giggle when Lenny could only muster a 'darn' at the mild injury. He made up for lost time by losing the boxers along with his jeans.

Then he stood before her, naked, and she couldn't even draw the air to laugh.

If he thought she was beautiful...and Laverne had never felt herself so beautiful in her life...then to her he seemed an Adonis. His skin glowed, pale and milky; she noted his delicate, miniature nipples, rose spikes against the darker blond hair of his chest, which was practically invisible in the dim light. He had a strong, medium build; still somewhat gangly, with a midsection that carried a slight rise of fat. Not an ounce of him was worked to pure muscle, yet the throbbing in her body increased; his body seemed innocent, sweet and carnal simultaneously. Every part of him cascaded down into an elongated torso, and she followed the dark blond hair downward, lingering at the patch of gauze over his ribs, where his wound lay healing, until she saw him.

Well, it wasn't a frightening view, nor did she fear whether or not she would be able to walk the morning after. But Lenny's penis was just as beautiful as the rest of him; slightly darker pink than the blush spreading across his skin, more than adequate, judging from the awakening state of it. Her inner nurturer clashed with her inner Venus; she found herself wanting to pet it and suckle it by equal measures.

When she placed an experimental hand upon his torso, it leapt as if searching for her. She looked up; he looked ready to kill himself from the embarrassment.

"What do ya think?" He echoed nasally.

She stroked the soft, elastic flesh over his ribs. "Pretty." The flesh bellowed inward and outward with undisguised laughter. "You are!" she said petulantly.

"Thanks, Vernie," he snorted.

"You gotta learn to take a compliment, Len." She found her hand trapped between their torsos as he filled her mouth with his tongue.

They stood, naked as jaybirds, making out like teenagers, for an indefinite period of time. When Laverne released him, her pulse was already racing.

"You gotta take me upstairs," desperation betrayed itself in her voice. "I don't want Shirl to see us..."

Lenny sheepishly backed away from her; he had apparently forgotten about their nudity, as well. Taking her hand in his, he uttered, "you gotta show me, Vernie."

She smiled, pulling him up the stairs behind her.


***

She kissed his chest and shoulderblade with tenderness as she guided him to the room. Somehow, her twin bed didn't seem a grand enough landscape for her fantasy.

Lenny pressed his palm to her belly, pushing her gently until she found herself lying across her bed. He loomed over her body, his hand tentatively cupping her breast as he bent over her for another kiss.

After all of that making out, she was more than ready for a more intimate touch. She moaned loudly, arching her back, and he responded by plopping down Indian-style between her spread thighs and cupping both breasts.

He made a tentative path to each nipple, brushing around them. The tension was more than she could stand, and she pulled each hand upward until they covered the delicate crests.

Her nipples jutted out, straining for his touch, and he couldn't ignore them with such an ardent, wordless request. The thumbs brushed over each until she tugged at his hair, indicating that she wanted his mouth.

His lips were soft, gentle with her, but the suction was so sharp that she called out. Apologetically, he lapped at the worried nipple, and her pain abated gradually.

Her nipples were, by the time he began to move down her torso, overstimulated; they stung when his hands began to massage the moderate amount of flesh beneath his palms. But the massaging felt so good that she lay still, the whiny moans she emitted the only encouragement she could make.

He paused, sliding down the bed, eventually burying his nose against the reddish curls between her thighs. He inhaled deeply, and she momentarily worried that she wasn't very pleasing to his senses. His hands slid, palms down, from her breasts to her torso, bracketing her hips, thumbs resting on either side of her bone.

Until his tongue lapped across the tip of her clitoris.

Her ragged moan was all he needed to hear, and at that point he began to tease her with sharp, swift flickers. The stimulation was too strong, and she yanked on his ears until he resurfaced.

"Too hard?"

"Uh huh..."

"What do I..."

"Just kinda rub around..." He nuzzled his way back into her wet folds, not waiting for further instruction. She felt his fingers stroking through them, pushing two fingers sharply inward. She sucked in a burning, harsh breath, clutching his head against her. The tongue tickled back and forth against the flesh first immediately above, then immediately below her clitoris.

"Like that?" he mumbled. His gaze rested on her intently.

"Yeah..." she replied, her fingers lost in his hair. Lenny pumped his fingers inside of her in response.

The stimulation began to peak unbearably soon; Laverne's thighs quaked against his ears, her moans becoming higher in pitch. He spread her wider, withdrawing his fingers, replacing it with his tongue, his thumb rubbing circles over her clitoral area.

"I'm gonna..."she tried to say, but it ended on a groan as she ground herself against his tongue, feeling an orgasm approach..

Laverne bucked her hips, her entire body giving itself up to the intimacy of the act, of the moment. She was freed by and yet constrained by the glories of his tongue. She peaked, cried out unintelligibly, her body clenching around his tongue, flooding his mouth with the taste of her most private place.

She felt Lenny shift, heard him take several gulping breaths. She cradled his head against her ribcage.

At last, she opened her eyes. He smiled feebly.

"Hi."

She wanted to ask him how he knew just how to touch her, but instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him up into a kiss.

She felt his cock poking her hip; it felt half-solid but promising. She wondered how she would pleasure him when she knew that she wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of her body.

She took over the kiss, stroking his left nipple. He didn't push her away, allowing her to play with his chest before stroking down over his belly.

He hissed as she touched the weeping tip of him; when she looked down between their bodies, she noticed that his erection had strengthened; the size of him delighted her, but she knew that he could be an inch long and she would still want to cradle him within herself.

She stroked the length of his shaft, capturing him inside of her hand; the thickness of him sent a thrill through her belly. His cock leaked a droplet of thin fluid over the tips of her fingers and she used it to speed her stroke over his aching flesh.

Laverne noticed that Lenny was unused to human touch; at each touch of her hand he leapt like a scalded dog. His body was thirsty for any sort of human touch, had been since his mother abandoned him on his fifth birthday. His jaw was slack, eyes hazy from her intimate attention before fluttering closed. She nuzzled the flesh of his hips and judged it to be as silky as the flesh she rubbed.

He was achingly hard, so hard that he almost throbbed his way out of her hand. She released him and he let out a moan borne of the loss of her touch.

She climbed over him, straddling his thighs.

His eyes opened. "Uh, Vernie..." he said nervously.

"I'm on the pill."

He sighed in relief. "That ain't what I meant, though."

"What..." Suddenly, she was on her back, the wind knocked out of her. He turned her once more, until she lay cradled against the front of him.

"My cut'll rip if I have to uh...bounce..." he explained. He pulled at her right thigh and she spread them, hooking it backward around his hip.

Laverne felt completely exposed and yet completely protected. Then she felt the blunt tip of him nudging and spreading her flesh and was lost to any form of thought.

"You gotta move down...if we do it like this, we gotta move together..." That was fitting, and it made warmth sing through her veins. She extended her hips smoothly downward and Lenny let out an ardent moan as she sheathed him completely.

Laverne glanced downward, somewhat stunned; she could see where they joined, but it had happened so suddenly that she wasn't sure it was real.

Then he penetrated the thin veil of her innocence and she grunted in pain.

"Vernie?" Confusing glowed in his voice.

"They weren't worth it. You are."

Lenny's left arm lay beneath her, and his hand cupped her belly, guiding her against him in a careful counterrhythm. He withdrew, then pressed inward sharply, sucking the air from her.

Laverne could feel him within her then, the length of him strong, spreading her open beyond what she had ever experienced. She let out a throaty moan and bounced against him, the angle strange but fulfilling.

Lenny seemed to forget his vow to be careful and began to wildly thrust inside of her, his left hand disappearing between her thighs and finding the pink spike of her clitoris again. The bed quaked from their uncontrolled efforts, filling with their uncovered cries of pleasure.

"Don't wanna stop," he groaned against the back of her neck. "Can't..."

"I want..."

"Too soon! I'm gonna...you don't..."

"LENNY!"

Her body spasmed involuntarily at his sharp inward stroke. She squeezed him, milking the strength of him, feeling protected by his arms. She had never connected physical comfort with sexual release before; now, held tenderly against him, feeling him losing control within her, she felt loved and protected all at once. Tears spilled from her eyes.

He wasn't far behind, and she heard her name on his lips as his body shook, flooding her over, giving her something no man had ever given to her.

They lay, panting, huddled together like children. Sleep overtook them simultaneously, not allowing even further thought to intrude on their happiness.

***

He awoke in an empty twin bed, completely naked.

Lenny knifed upward, scared to death he had made the entire encounter up or, worse yet, that he had somehow injured her in his excitement. His eyes fell to the window and relief flooded him.

He didn't understand why Laverne thought she wasn't pretty; as Lenny gloried in the curves of her rear end and legs, he felt like the luckiest jerk in the world.

She didn't wince when he wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently.

Abruptly, she turned and wrapped her arms around him, bawling against his chest. He let her go on until his concern became overwhelming.

"I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "It's snowing. It's snowing in California. You got any other miracles going on in there, Len? It's all too much, too good. I'm afraid I'm gonna wake up and it'll be over..."

"I'm here. It's real."

She touched his trunk, "yeah. Ya feel real to me..." Her eyes widened as she noticed the blood seeping onto the gauze over his wound. "I made ya bleed!"

His eyes slipped down her body, noticing the trickle of virgin's blood left behind upon her right thigh. "You bled for me. I bled for you."

She blushed, "I'm sorry I didn't tell ya."

"You didn't have to. Why me, Vernie?"

"The only other guy I ever loved was Randy. And I was waitin' for him to ask me to marry him. The night he died, he was...and we was gonna..." She choked on the emotion in her throat. "I didn't want to wait with you. You almost left twice..."

His embrace strengthened, telling her without words it would all be right. Lenny had never been the strong, silent type, and she could see the nameless clash of sadness, pride and awe in his eyes. She reveled at his tenderness silently, eyes closed, floating in the tenderness of the moment.

"Vernie?" His words were punctuated by the sleepy stroking of his fingers over her spine.

"Huh?"

His hand slid down from her spine to her left thigh. When she opened her eyes, he was on his knees. "Marry me."

The world went still.

"Too much," she echoed. She found him sincere, but it seemed that every possible life change that could ever be was happening to her now.

"I gotta have something to live for, if I'm gonna go over there, and I..."

She silenced him with a kiss, the truth of his speech winning her over. "I don't wanna be without ya. You think I'm gonna say no?"

He leapt with joy, letting out a foolish hoot that made her giggle in response. "You're never gonna regret it," he said, rising to hold her again.

"I know."

Downstairs, voices echoed. Lenny stiffened against her.

"Shirley..."

"Carmine'll distract her," she slapped his nates playfully. "Where's my ring?"

He paused, then pulled something off of his left hand. She turned it over in her palm when he placed it there; it was a Captain Terrific Secret Decoder ring. Lenny had worn it on and off ever since he was six years old.

"Len, you had this..."

"...I know. It's only 'till I can pay..."

"No, I want it..." she slipped it onto her left hand without another word.

Laverne kissed him passionately, noisily, before releasing him, tossing herself onto the bed, squirming beneath the covers and watching him leave.

She heard Carmine's voice grow stagy, Shirley's murmuring never reaching a shriek. Soon their voices grew sleepy and cordial, and the sound of her best friend's footsteps shuffling upward told her that the date was over. Laverne wondered what she would tell her roommate, then realized that Shirley had been rooting for this event for longer than she herself had.

Laverne supposed losing her virginity was a great Christmas present, then mourned the fact that Lenny couldn't be with her. It was midnight, on Christmas Day, and her life was as new as baby Jesus' had been on that Jerusalem morning.

There would be tomorrow to think of him. Months to plan the wedding, she coddled herself, sleep claiming her gradually...and...

...and they married in the middle of spring at Fort McHenry, in front of their families. And Lenny was stationed in the states, fixing up Jeeps and planes just as he had when he was a civilian, and she worked in the stenographic pool for the America-bound sergeants. And the war ended, and they came home to California, Cowboy Bills, and a new world of possibility...

And they slept in the same bed for every day after that magic Christmas Eve, until their day of death.

The End!