SERIES: Beautiful Like a
Rainbow
PART: 6 of 8
RATING: PG-13; eventual NC-17 (Explicit Heterosexual Sexual
Activity, Adult thematic material, language, adult content, character death,
trauma)
PAIRING(s): L/L; S/C
DISTRIBUTION: To Myself 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
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CATEGORY: Drama
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SEQUEL TO : Shotzette's
"True Colors"; a true and proper one more so than "With
Words" could be.
SETTING IN TIMELINE: Early Show AU; Canon for Happy Days up to
the girls' first appearance.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Dare to dream.
(Lavenny, Shirlmine)
NOTES: An alternate version of the "True Colors" side
of things - much more romantic in nature.
***
Laverne fiddled with the bedspread. Lenny’s apartment felt welcoming and somehow
soothing, though she couldn’t comprehend why.
“Go on,” Lenny encouraged her.
***
The church stood silent
and lonely. Laverne bit down the
butterflies fluttering in her throat as she entered the chapel proper.
The tape recorder’s on, Laverne told herself. It’s
in my purse. It’ll stay there and catch
everything…
Father Peacefield sat before his pulpit, a silky smile upon his
face. “Laverne, my child – I understand
you wanted to speak with me…”
“Yeah, Father…” Laverne
sat down, tried to project “alluring” in her short skirt and low-cut top.
“Yes…it seems you are
eager for instruction…” he occupied the pew and encouraged her to move
closer. “You wanted to talk about the
divinity?”
“Yeah…”
“Interesting – your mother
had similar questions when I instructed her…”
Laverne gasped, the pretense of her appearance forgotten. “My mama? You knew her?”
“Oh yes – she was among
my flock in Brooklyn. A nice woman – Italian
accent, I believe.”
“Can you tell me what
she was like? My papa won’t talk about
her…”
His eyes darkened. “There is likely a reason for that. Perhaps he doesn’t want you to learn of…ah,
but I’ve said too much already…”
“What?” Laverne
gasped. “Please, can you tell me?”
“Your mother had a past
that caused her great shame. She asked
me to expiate her sins, and I did so…” He shook his head. “Your poor father, he tried his hardest with
her, but she was a creature of the flesh, a devilish sin incarnated.” He turned
toward Laverne, pinning her against the pew.
“You are much like her, Laverne…” he stroked her face, her
stiff-as-a-board form.
She fought – her fist
connecting firmly with his midsection, allowing her to flee. He tripped her in the aisle, pinned her to
the floor, and backhanded her. “Whore!”
he bellowed, dragging her backward, closer to the altar. “Feisty whore,” he whispered, his voice silky still a serpent.
“Your friend was far less of a challenge…”
“You did this to Shirl!”
“I do it with any lamb
that catches my eye. Your mother….how
you look like your mother…the sweetest hooker of Delany Cross…” Laverne’s
horror must have physically transmuted itself.
“Your mother was a whore, Laverne.
A sweet, beautiful whore. Your father took the blame for the seed in
her belly, but it may have been planted by any man in Italy…”
Laverne lay beneath
him, trembling, paralyzed, ill. Praying
for a miracle, she willed her mind to numbness.
For some reason she
could not fathom, God answered her call, and the weight above her body was
released.
She blinked, watching
as skinny Lenny Kosnowski whipped the hell out of the
much heavier older man.
“Wicked
child! I’ll have your family banished
from the church!”
“My family,” Lenny said
coldly, “’ll have you thrown out of the parish. They’ve gone to this church for hundreds of
years longer than you been a priest, pal!”
“It’s my word against
yours…”
“The police’re coming,” Lenny replied. “We’ll let them decide who’s right and who’s
not.”
The police did arrive,
questioning Lenny and Laverne. It truly
was his word against hers, but Lenny’s family had pull – the padre would not be
returning to the church. Alone in the
police station, Lenny cradled Laverne against his chest.
“It’s
okay, Laverne – you ain’t what he said,” Lenny told
her.
But deep down, Laverne
had turned to ice.
If her mother was a whore - if her best
friend was one – then she would become one, too.
***
“You ain’t a whore,” Lenny told
her.
“I am now,” Laverne said, sounding world-weary.
He tilted her face toward him.
“No, you ain’t.”
He kissed her, caressed her, undressed
her. His mouth went low and tender upon
the softer part of her flesh. Laverne
tensed – she’d never allowed him to do that, it always made her lose complete
control of her body. He held her still
with his long, pale fingers, pinioning her to his face, refusing to allow her
any recourse but to let go and lose herself in a mindless abyss of
pleasure.
She took him into her body then, listened to his confession of
love, afraid to death to say the words back.
He fell away on a groan and the world seemed to end.
His lips brushed the back of her neck before she fell
asleep. “We’ll go see your Pop tomorrow,”
he told her, “and clear this up.”
Were she fully awake, the notion would have terrified her, but
Laverne felt such contentment that she slipped away, her hand in his.
***
“Stay with me.”
The words were sleepy and contented. They were sitting on a wooden crate in a
slimy alleyway. Carmine pulled away,
tucking himself back into his pants. “Can’t,
honey.”
Shirley’s eyes popped open.
“You still want to do that?”
“I toldja – my rep’s on the line.”
Something darkened in her blue eyes. “All right,” she said. “I’ll come along.”
He blinked. “You sure you
wanna do that?”
“Absolutely. You’re just a kid,” she
tucked her hand against his elbow. “And
someone’s got to keep you from getting into trouble…”
Her words died away as they met two hulking figures at the edge
of the alley.
Handguns glimmered, half-hidden, in their open trench coats.
TBC