Do Me So Do Do So Me Do
By Missy

SERIES: Goosebumps!
SUBSERIES: Do Me So Do
PART: one of one parts for this arc
Author: Missy
Email: lasfic@yahoo.com
RATING: G
PAIRING(s): L/L; S/C; S/R

DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask (Please Email Me), 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!

DISCLAIMER: Laverne and Shirley, of course, not my property and belongs to its creators.

CATEGORY: Epic Drama
CANNON/SPOILERS: Pre-Reunion Show Cannon; set five years after the series' conclusion.
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Lenny tries to plot a post-Leatherettes career.
NOTES: The first of one chapters in the sixteenth portion to this series. For previous chapters, see the Goosebumps! Section at LAS Fic or The Look.

No S/C or R/S in this arc.

***

"Come on, baby...go to sleep, go to sleep..." He whispered, walking the floor, "C'mon Billie..." His eyes brightened. "C'Mon Billie...that sounds like a song."

He watched his wife sleep. Poor Laverne; it hadn't been an easy time for her, and he more than owed her the past two weeks of sleepless nights.

It wasn't that Billie was a cranky baby; she was an active, playful one that liked to watch the rest of the apartment as her father tried to pace her back to sleep.

"Ssh." He breathed against her ear. Somewhere, he'd heard that that was the sort of trick that would put a kid to sleep. Billie just giggled her tiny baby laugh at him.

"You asked for it." He warned her, winding up the music box dangling over her crib. She let out a tiny little whine of protest, but as he rubbed her back, the noises turned to the queer sounds of a child in sleep.

With relief, he carefully lowered her to the crib, watching in silent caution. Her little chest still moved, and he slumped to the bed beside his wife.

Laverne slept heavily, curling around his middle instinctively. Her arms felt so good that he had to restrain himself from turning around and kissing her. Tomorrow, they would have to rise at seven and greet the day.


***

"...So the academy said they'd take me if I could run the obstacle course again." Laverne smiled. She noticed the slight wrinkle to his brow and reached over to smooth it. "How's it goin' for you?"

Lenny sighed. "They ain't hirin' at the docks."

"What about Shotz?"

His eyes widened, "They tried ta make ya wash trucks!"

"Len, money don't have pride attached to it."

"It oughta." He noticed that Billie was watching them with her usual intense concentration. "I got an interview at the school today."

"As what?"

"A janitor."

"Len!"

"You said money ain't got pride, Laverne." He pointed out.

"But yer more than a janitor."

He smiled grimly. "Ya go tell unemployment that."

***

Lenny stared at his watch, trying to remember what time he said he'd pick Laverne up from the academy. He sat and wondered how much K.C. and Jenny were going to charge him for baby-sitting. As long as they didn't lose the baby. He suppressed a laugh.

"Lenny Kosnoski?"

He looked up in surprise at the sound of a vaguely familiar voice. An enthusiastic face and a warm handshake met him. "I don't know if you remember me; I'm Joanie Arcola."

"Chachi's wife! I saw ya at the wedding!"

She nodded. "Is there anything I can help you with? I'm a teacher's assistant nowadays."

"Could you make me someone who ain't a janitor?"

"I can't help you with that, but I can show you in to Principal Greene's Office."

"Boy, I ain't been in a principal's office since I ran Shirley's underwear up the flagpole in twelfth grade."

"Was that in sixth grade?"

"Nah, graduation day." He smiled, leaning against the door. "I kinda get why she don't like me much..."

***

"I ain't even good enough ta be a janitor!" He wailed to the empty space of the music room. The silence echoed right back, unimpressed. "Great, I gotta go back home ta Vernie, tell her I flunked again..." He kicked the music stand. Only one thing could soothe him...

He sat down behind the piano, plunking a few keys. The piano had a fine, old sound to it; he was encouraged to press a few more keys and see what kind of sound he got. Before he knew it, a melody developed, filling the emptiness he had previously felt.

"That sounded great, Lenny!" Joanie piped, entering the room and sending him sprawling off of the bench.

"Yeah; music's my life." He smiled lamely, knowing it was a cliché, knowing that didn't make it less true.

"Did you get the job?"

He frowned. "Uh-uh."

"I'm sorry..." Her eyes went wide. "Lenny! Our music teacher just quit his position."

He looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "How'd ya know that? Are ya Krepskin?"

"No, I just remembered; you'd be great with it."

"That's nice of ya to say, Joanie. But I ain't got the experience, an...look at me!" He gestured to himself, miserably.

"But that makes you perfect!" She grinned. "Come on, Lenny, please?!"

It didn't take much of anything to convince him. "Yes!"


***

"This tie's killin' me!"

"Stand still," Laverne scolded, re-tying his Windsor knot.

"I ain't inta monkey clothes, Laverne." His eyes widened. "What if they think I ain't good enough?"

"Lenny, if they have one little bit of the heart in you, they're gonna want ya right off the bat!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" She shoved him, gently, into the principal's office.

***

"...A bachelor's degree in music theory...international experience..." Principal Greene leaned over his desk. "Mister Kosnoski, do you like children?"

"I got one of my own." He said, "Her name's Wilhelmina Randie. We call her Billie."

"I understand you have quite a track record in this school."

And so it began. Sweat coursed down Lenny's back. "Yeah."

"Cutting class...pulling pranks...shellacking a girl's ponytail."

"That was in sixth grade, sir."

"Yes." He closed his file. "Tell me why you'd like to be a teacher, Mister Kosnoski, with a record like this."

"Uh..." His voice came in a garbled squeaky, and he forced himself to calmness. "I love music. I like kids. And this is the only way I can do both together practically."

Principal Greene heaved a sigh. "I see.." He adjusted his glasses. "With your record, I don't see how I can hire you, no matter how good you are."

Death would have been preferable to hearing that. It took all of Lenny's will to keep himself from slamming a pen into his wrist and ending it all, his shame was so intense.

"Have you heard him play, Principal Greene?"

They both looked up to see Joanie Arcola standing in the doorway.

"Misus Arcola, this doesn't have anything to do with you..."

"But I recommended to Lenny that he try for this job!" A sudden, dramatic intensity filled her eyes. "He's a wonderful musician, and he's really good with kids. Why shouldn't you hire him?"

"Because, Miss Arcola, Mister Kosnoski was a juvenile delinquent."

"So was Arthur Fonzarelli. And if I remember correctly, your predecessor hired him to work in this very school!"

He sputtered. "Miss Arcola..."

"Why don't you let him play for you?"

He looked from one hangdog expression to another. A long, defeated sigh came from his lips. "Very well."

The three, joined by a curious Laverne and Billie, made their way to the music room. Terribly self-conscious, Lenny focused only on the keys as he settled down behind the piano.

He wouldn't be able to explain, later, what had gripped him; some invisible force seemed to demand that he play. Five minutes later, he slumped over the keys, panting.

Principal Greene spoke first. "What was that song?"

"I wrote it." He smiled. Suddenly, the only thing he could see in the entire world was his wife. He crossed the room, stroking his daughter's cheek, then his wife's. "For her."

"You compose? We'll save a fortune in royalties at recitals! You're hired, young man!" He coughed. "Young man?"

But Lenny was beyond hearing him, beyond the blood rushing in his own head, and the caress of Laverne's tongue against his.

"Hooligans." The principal muttered. But he was smiling soon enough as well.



To Chapter One of "True Love Ways"
To Chapter One of "Your fist, Like a Knife In My Nose"











(Close This Window To Return To LAS Fic)