Title:  Listening (1/1)

Fandom: LAS

Email: lasfic@yahoo.com

Pairing: Pre: Lenny/Fonzie

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Doesn’t belong to me, belongs to Gary Marshall

Notes: Written for the ’08 Laverne and Shirley holiday fic exchange.

Summary: Lenny and Fonzie connect over music.

 

 

***

 

“You call that a Christmas carol?”

 

Lenny frowns at Fonzie’s snarled words.  “It’s Aniol pasterzom mówil,”  he says, the Polish half-garbled as it slips from between his lips.  “I’ve been singing it since I was real little – it reminds me of my mom.”

 

“Eh,” Fonzie shrugs.  “S’no Jingle Bell Rock.”

 

Lenny’s fingers scrape across the string of his guitar, sending an eerie shriek through the chilly air pressing their skin.  It’s a little past midnight and they’re huddled at the Knapp Street’s stoop, hiding from the merriment of Laverne and Shirley’s Christmas party.  “It means a lot to me,” Lenny explains.

 

Fonzie grunts.  There are a lot of things that mean something to him, but he’s not getting them this Christmas.  First the Cunninghams took off to Florida for Christmas week – an aunt of Marion’s became unexpectedly ill, and naturally they weren’t enthusiastic about a hoodlum-slash-greaser tagging along.  Then he’d tried to score a date or weekend fling, but every number he tried returned a busy signal.  When word got out that The Fonz would be alone on Christmas, he found himself on the receiving end of Laverne and Shirley’s idea of Christmas cheer; a cheap tree delivered by Squiggy decorated- literally – with garbage- and a gut-wrenchingly bad meal cooked up by Shirley.  The forced merriment of their Christmas stocking’s just a crap chaser for his shitty evening; all he wants is to go back to his apartment and sulk until New Year’s Eve.

 

Beside him, Lenny picks out the rhythm line for Jingle Bell Rock, and it catches Fonzie’s ear.  “You got a good sense of rhythm, kid.”

 

The blond boy shrugs.  “Been playing my whole life.”

 

“Don’t bs the Fonz with false modesty – I know a lot of guitarists and it takes a helluva lot of work to get good.”

 

“Nah,” Lenny grins.  “I’m just a good practicer.”

 

Fonzie nods.  “You know Blue Christmas?  It..reminds me of my mom.”

 

Lenny does, and instantly begins playing the tune.  Fonz knows the rhythm, and soon is singing along.  He’s amazed by how quickly music cleanses the soul.  When the song’s over, he’s smiling.

 

“Why’d that sad song remind you of your mom?”

 

Lenny shrugs.  “She left.  Why’s Blue Christmas remind you of your mom?’

 

“She died.”

 

Silence, thickly uncomfortable, fills the small space together.  Way too close.  Way too comfortable.  Fonzie’s about to crack a joke when Lenny dives across the space between them and pecks his cheek.

 

Jaws drop.  Hearts beat.  Cheeks turn red.

 

“I – I  gotta get back to the party,” Lenny lies, running away to the safety of the girls’ apartment.  Fonzie feels his blood boil in the solitary evening, warm enough to sizzle the snowy ice surrounding him down to steam.

 

He smiles, thumbs pointing toward the North Pole.  Looks like Santa didn’t skip his house after all…

 

THE END