Lowered Expectations
By Missy

TITLE: Lowered Expectations
PARTS: One of One
RATING: NC-17 (Adult Lanugage, frank sexual talk, mentions M/F)
DISTRIBUTION: To Impure Thoughts and Kai only; Lauren, if you want this, you may have it, and I'm pretty sure FG doesn't want it *chuckles*; 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: Smut; romance
PAIRINGS: L/L
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Lenny and Laverne must wait a few months before marrying. To make the time pass more quickly during the walk down to the Pizza Bowl they entertain each other with stories of how it will be.

***

It was bitingly cold. Her hand felt welded to his gloved palm. She widened her stride; his legs were so impossibly long, and though most of her own height came from a similar length, he had a tendency to walk as though he were trying to outpace a chasing demon.

"We've gotta tell my pop."

His eyes widened, and it slowed him down. His words were ridiculous. "We have to?"

She punched him in the elbow, and he whined. "You think I'm gonna hide this?" She pulled off the mitten on her free left hand, showing the anonymous world around them a tiny diamond, set inside of a melded golden band that was probably brass. Laverne didn't care; she understood how expensive a ring, any ring, could be on the money they pulled in.

Pride shone in his eyes. "Your Pop's gonna kill me."

She smiled. "Why? We ain't done anything." She made the last word heavy with meaning. "Yet."

"Yeah, and until after the wedding, we ain't."

She recovered from this disappointment easily, stuffing the hand back into the mitten. There were plenty of risks in consummating their passion before the ceremony; chief among Lenny's was probably the image of Frank DeFazio putting him in a chokehold.

"What do you think Pop's gonna do."

"Vernie, I ain't Italian, I ain't rich. He still remembers that time I hit ya for knocking me off my bike."

Her hand escaped the clutch of his to stroke his arm. "We were six, Len."

"No excuse, Vernie."

"Well, since you know everything, tell me what it's gonna be like when we get married.

His eyes darted. "You wanna know?"

She shrugged. The walk from Knapp Street to the Pizza Bowl was taking longer then expecting, and the mid-day rush made them anonymous, exactly the opposite of what she wanted.

Her hand recaptured his as he began:

First, we'll tell your pop. He probably kinda knows that we've been dating for a month, but, ya know, he probably doesn't. After he stops sayin' that he has people who can 'fix' me good, he'll probably be okay with it. He knows I'm okay with takin' the dispatcher's test and maybe he'll just be real happy that he'll only have Squig washin' dishes to pay off bills.

You'll tell Shirl, who'll cry. Squig'll know next, and he'll tell me I'm giving up a life of hatchelorhood for you. He'll cry a little, but then he'll say I gotta give him by black book.

"Black book?" She frowned.

"It's only got one name in it." He insisted.

The wedding'll be in March, cause no one ever gets married in March. In January, I'll take the test. An' pass by one question.

He didn't notice her frown.

They'll probably have another guy, but ther'll be two jobs open. They'll take me, cause I'll be cheaper.

What was I talkin' about? Oh yeah, the wedding. It'll be at Saint Michaels. Father Delvechio'll do it for free, 'cause he's known us since we was little. Shirley'll throw you a shower, but ya won't get wet, an' we'll get a bunch of neat dishes an' junk. Squig'll take me to the dime-a-dance place.

The frown turned into a glare.

And Olga'll cry, cause her big game hunter ain't gonna be around no more. Oh well, gotta break a few hearts sometimes.

Her nail pinched his thumb and he whined.

"If ya don't want me to tell the story, I ain't gonna."

She sighed. "If it's gonna still be about Olga, I ain't gonna hear it."

"Okay, I'll get to the best parts..."

The next day, it'll be nice and cool, with a big yellow sun in the sky. I'll wear a monkey suit for ya, and I'll make the tie match. You'll wear a pretty dress and that sexy lipstick. The red stuff.

Shirley'll cry.

Your Pop'll cry.

Squiggy'll cry and say Carmine hit him.

I'll cry. A lot.

We'll say the prayer in my Bible, the one about the glory of a man and a wife in the highest, and then we'll light up a candle. Then you'll be my girl, but only part of the way.

She knew the other part. Pleasant shivers ran up her spine.

Then we'll have cake, and we'll dance. The band'll play; Carmine'll sing. Your Pop and mine can probably get us in the VFW for free.

That night, we'll check into the Pfister Hotel, and I'll get you a nice room...maybe not the one with the big heart bed, but somethin' nice...

He blushed. "You know what happens next."

"No. Tell me."

Her voice was so sincere that he almost choked on his spit. "You sure?"

"Uh-huh." There was an appealing husk to her voice.

"Uh..."

I'll get some nice candles, cause all girls need candles. It makes 'em look pretty. And you'll come out of the bathroom in a white nightie, like the kind I saw in your drawer when she and Shirley thought we were lookin' for mice.

You and me'll have a little champagne; not too much. Then the kisses'll start. I've kissed you so much but it only started meaning something a month ago, so I'll make it good.

If I take my time, I'll probably die, so the kisses'll go deep until your back goes all bendy, and I'll lie you down on the bed.

I'll take off the dress; and I'll finally get to see you out of that underwear. Maybe you'll grab a sheet, cause you're more scared then you think. That'll come off, too, and then you'll tell me it's not fair that I'm wearin' my pj's and you're all naked...

"They won't be Bullwinkle, will they?"

His brows furrowed. "Bullwinkle?"

"Never mind." Somehow, it seemed right in her mind that Lenny would have Bullwinkle pyjamas. "Keep going."

And you'll get me naked, too. You probably ain't gonna like what you see, but the kisses are gonna be so good that you're gonna want it anyway.

So we'll kiss and roll around, and I'll touch yer secret place, and when you're all hot, I'll stick it in ya. And then I'll...uh...

He couldn't complete the sentence, his bright-red cheeks a simple excuse.

She felt a little amusement at the way he had described the marital act. She'd read plenty of things, more than he had, and knew there would be more in it for her than he had assumed. She had to contend with the fact that his primary sexual educators were Grace Metalious and Squiggy. She figured that True Confessions trumped them both.

"What makes ya think I ain't gonna want it?"

He sucked in a breath. "You're makin' it hard for me to keep walkin', Vernie."

She smirked. "You wanna know how it's really gonna happen?"

He barely managed a nod of his head.

We'll tell Pop. He's gonna be happier than ya think, because I'm finally becoming a decent married girl, to a guy who can give him grandkids. He'll offer to do almost everything for the wedding, but I'm gonna try to do something different; we'll get married at the church, like you said, with Father Delvechio.

She decided to skip the business about the bachelor party. She knew Shirley would never let her have any fun, unless the other Debs overrode her decision, and she would pin Squiggy to the wall if he did anything like what Lenny had described to her. She continued.

I'll wear my mamma's dress, which Shir'll help me take in...when she stops crying 'cause I'm gonna leave her alone. You'll wear a nice suit with a plaid bow tie.

She understood. He was surprised.

We'll have a good ceremony in March, cause that's when my raise happens. You'll take the dispatchers test, and you'll pass, cause I'm gonna sit up and we're gonna study, but it'll be by more than one point. And Pop will forget he was upset that his Muffin was marrying a Pole, cause we're both Catholic. And when ya kiss me, I'm gonna remember it, cause it'll be the first kiss I've ever had as a married woman.

You're right; we'll dance and we'll drink and we'll eat, and then we'll go to the Pfister alone.

I'll wear a white gown, but I'll pack a black and a red one. I guess white should start it all off, ya know? And you won't be wearin' PJ's, cause when I come out of the bathroom I want ya naked, under the sheets.

"You got that part?"

He was panting, half from the cold and half from the description. They were two blocks away from the Pizza Bowl. She pulled him over, made him stop and sit down on a bench in front of a shoe store.

I'll crawl in between, and we'll kiss, all right. Kiss so much that I forget my name and how it feels ta be alone. And I'll pull off the gown and feel ya all over me, naked.

I'll put yer hands here...

She pulled his open palm to her breast, very quickly, then let his hand drop to her thigh.

And I'll touch ya everywhere. Until we can't take it. Until I can hold you and rub you and put you inside me.

The words rocked her. She took a deep breath.

I'll bleed. All girls bleed at first, and it'll hurt a little. It'll start feeling good, maybe. That's what Terri said. I may not...uh...I may not 'come' the first time. It's gonna take practice, but it's gonna feel good. But it won't matter, cause I'm holding on ta you in a way no other girl has.

He pouted. "How do ya know?" The talk of blood and pain has dissipated his arousal.

"That's what Terri said." She admitted. "And what I read."

"No, about me and other girls."

"I can tell."

He leaned back, trying to look casual. The urgency in his voice made it a lie. "So, then what happens?"

"Well..."

We get a new apartment; fifty cents an hour more'll make everything a little easier. It'll be bigger than Shirl's and my place, in a little better place. Every Sunday, we go to church, and then the Pizza Bowl to see my Pop, and we do go ta work, but otherwise, everything's you and me.

We can do it whenever than, as good as you want it, as fast as you want it. We're gonna learn from each other. I'm not sayin' it'll be so sweet all the time, but we're gonna be good. It may hurt, but I'll try not to make it so bad. You'll get promoted, and I'll get promoted, and then we'll get a nice house.

And then, some day, we're gonna look at each other and we're gonna say...

He continued for her:

We're gonna say it's time fer there to me more than just you and me.

She nodded, relieved to have the words said.

He nuzzled her neck. "I like your way better."

"I ain't a prophet." She warned.

"Don't matter."

She knew that it didn't. Standing, pulling her green wool cap down firmly over her ears, she pulled him up. "Pop ain't gonna hear by magic, Len."

He nodded. They ran the final block to the entrance of the Pizza Bowl, and when they reached it, she pulled him down into a full, lip-bruising kiss.

She released him. "What was that for?"

She smiled, pushing his jacket's zipper up a few inches. "Practice." She replied.

He grumbled benignly, adjusting his jacket until it covered his hips before pushing open the restaurant's door.