Fourth Chair
Chapter Four
By Missy

TITLE: Fourth Chair
PARTS: Four of Undetermined
RATING: PG-13 for one adult reference and one mildly salty word; use caution.
DISTRIBUTION: To LW, FG and Kai 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. Â 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: SOL
PAIRINGS: What do you think? ;-)
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne and Lenny's daughter may be a great cellist in the making; one whose intelligence makes them feel both blessed and mystified. Can they possibly let her go to New York alone?'


For Chesh

****

Lenny stirred against the first rays of sunlight that shone through Aria's window the following morning. Funny, how he hadn't recalled falling asleep beside her bed the previous night. He supposed his own story was just that boring.

He watched Aria's face for a moment; she resembled Laverne so strongly that he smiled. Excepting her hair and lips, everything on her was Laverne's, including the nose that her mother had prayed she wouldn't inherit. The saddest thing about his kids growing up was that he could recall every little monument they had achieved. Hell, he still had a scar on his wrist that perfectly matched up with Laverne's front teeth, incised onto his flesh the day the girl was born. Memories in his mind, he crept out of her room, seeking his own bed and his wife.

It was predictable that Laverne would be found curled up on his side, arms locked around a pillow. It was something she had begun doing in the early days of SquigSound, through his nights of catering to the needs of stung-out rock stars who wanted their albums mixed by such-and-such a sate. The glamour had worn off early, and he had learned to hate their time apart.

Carefully climbing into bed behind his wife, Lenny wrapped his arms around her. Her beautiful heat seeped right through her dowdy print pajamas, warming his bones. As he started to drift off, Laverne turned around abruptly in his arms.

She hummed against his chest, and he liked this even better, though it meant that something lay between them.

"Hard night?" She asked.

"Huh? Oh, nah. Ari don't like it when we fight."

Laverne nodded, burrowing against his chest.

"Good?" he asked.

"Just like that." She sighed. Which meant many things, one of them being 'don't move'. Her lips rubbed against his tee-shirt, seeking bare skin but finding none. She crawled up his body until she could kiss his lips.

It was a comforting, gentle kiss, which slowly gained both fire and passion. His hand had found the edge of her pajama top and was slowly crawling toward the buttons.

A wail from the nursery stopped them both.

Lenny groaned against his wife's mouth. Sex had become a precious commodity between himself and his wife. The disappointment in Laverne's eyes were clear, but easily fixed.

"I'll make breakfast." He said cheerfully. And her green eyes lit up.

***

Lenny watched his wife feed Christian with a spoon. His toast, cereal, soy bacon and orange juice tasted particularly good, no matter how much he yearned for the real thing.

Aria played with her cereal, hair messy and still in her nightgown, as was wont to happen on a Saturday morning.

"Ari?" Laverne asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Aria shrugged. "Uh. Nothing."

"Honey, if you wanna talk about last night..."

She shook her head. "No thank you."

"But..."

Suddenly, she burst out. "Dad, would it be okay if I came to work with you? I could do all the filing, and you could teach me how to work the soundboard and I could be really helpful if you let me try." Her eyes were fervent. "I want to keep on with the family tradition. Can I?"

Lenny's response surprised even himself. "We'll talk about it."







To Chapter 3

To Chapter 5


















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