For Buddy
By Missy

Title: For Buddy
PART: One of One
PAIRING(s): Lenny/Laverne
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!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: California, post-Shirley
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne celebrates a past low with a new highpoint.
NOTES: Inspired by the man whom Laverne blames for her disastrous Aircraft carrier adventure in The Monastery Show.


She crossed her arms tightly about her midsection, but allowed the wind to have its way with her shawl. Swallowed up by the bittersweetness of the moment, she smiled, thinly, swallowing; trying to keep covered her bare flesh.

How much had gone by in a year? How many moments had changed her?

A year ago that day, she had planted her feet in the beach, slugging down wine to the memory of Buddy Holly. The next morning, to her shame, she awoke on an aircraft carrier. With a pack of smiling sailors.

Well, it had sobered her up pretty quickly.

A moral crises had caved in on her fragile sense of well-being, leaving only shame and a feeling of degradation in its wake. She would blame her loneliness; the ultimate, cavernous loneliness that Shirley had entombed her within when she left.

She could, and had, pretended to everyone that life had been gotten on with; that she was fine. Only by humiliating herself in a moment of unbridled insanity could she wake herself up.

Acting like she had when she was twenty. God, not one lesson had stuck to her mind.

It made her a more serious woman; in her pursuit of security, a future, she had woken up to a huge realization.

Someone loved her deeply. Almost as much as he had loved Buddy.

She had placed blinders over her eyes, trying to avoid the fact of their similarity, companionability, but couldn't; they matched up perfectly, as though God had always intended for them to be together. But, forever cast within her mind as her "best guy friend", she hadn't given him that chance.

Well, until this week.

The funniest thing was that it was Buddy who bound them together. His music, rather; she had been playing one of his records one afternoon and he burst into the apartment, wanting to know where she'd gotten the album. He, of course, had worshipped the man from the age of eight; his death had devastated the very center of his artistic soul.

But he taught her some cords, and they made each other laugh, and the closer they got the better they understood one another.

And now she stood on the beach, pregnant with his child, almost feeling the glow she broadcasted. His arms were sneaky vines, holding them together.

"Waddya thinking about?" Lenny Kosnoski asked his wife.

"Us." Laverne answered honestly. He smiled, pecking her lips gently. Then he handed her a thermos of warmed tea. Much weaker than the beverage she had begun the year before with, but much more welcome to her system. Somewhere in the distance, a horn blared in the distance, like an old memory in its death throes. Appropriate; they were in the process of leaving California behind forever.

"To Buddy?" He asked her, holding his own thermos out for a toast.

"To Buddy," She agreed.

And with similar, secrative smiles, they tapped their thermoses together.

The End

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