SERIES: Monologue for Moonlight
PART: 1 of 1
RATING: PG (Adult content, supernatural themes)
PAIRING(s): L/L (?)
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CATEGORY: Sci-Fi/Lupine/Supernatual/Romance
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: Milwaukee-era
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: "I Can Explain" (Lavenny. Magic.)
NOTES: The author isn't responsible if you die in a sugar
coma from reading this fic.
***
The playground behind Deerpark
Elementary hadn't seen a groundskeeper in about ten years. It was a perfect place to hide when you
wanted to suck your thumb, even if you were seventeen years too old to be doing
so.
Laverne plopped down on a rust-spattered swing, ridding
herself of excess energy with the quick pump-force of her legs. She tried her best to be as blank as a sheet
of paper, avoiding the sharp knife of a memory that was her latest failure.
Something rustled a nearby patch of tall grass, sending her
heart into her throat. Skidding to a
stop, she watched the grass part and two blue eyes peer out at her.
"Don't come any closer..." she grabbed her purse. "I've got a...a...hairbrush." She held up her paddle-back tortoiseshell
kit. It felt heavy in her hand - maybe
just heavy enough to do damage if she concentrated...
The grass fully parted, the eyes came fully into the
moonlight...and a fuzzy snout.
Laverne's stomach muscles unclenched as she realized her
assailant was just a little puppydog. The rest of the animal's body emerged onto
the grass and padded merrily toward her, and she corrected herself - the color
of wheat, mister doggie was long, with big paws and sharp - a white German Sheppard.
"Hi," she said awkwardly, who strode over to her
with his tongue hanging out. "Nice
doggy?" she asked rhetorically.
He smiled at her, sitting down a few inches from the pointed
toes of her heels. His head slightly
cocked, it seemed as if he was able to understand.
"I don't got anything in my
purse - I left the doggie bag back at the Greasy Griddle," she
snorted. "I should left a knuckle
sandwich, too!" she looked down at the dog, who
had tilted his head to watch her. "What'm I doing?
You're a puppy! You don't
understand people talk!"
The dog barked, walked forward a step and nudged her knee
with his nose, as if to urge her to continue.
"I guess that shows how desperate I am for someone to
listen. Someone who's not Shirl - she's
been my best friend since I was six.
Now, I love that girl, but if I told her what I done she'd start telling
me to be more careful, that I treat my body like
The dog barked, its blue eyes
reflecting...understanding? Desperation
was pretty scary.
"Anyway, I've been dating this guy Tony - he's a big muckety-muck over at the Brewery where I work - the big
tall building that makes beer? He's one
of the guy who works in hops, "Laverne
explained. "He asked me out on
Friday to go out for a movie and a big steak dinner. I shoulda guessed
that when a guy offers me steak he's trying to get something offa me..."
The dog growled and she shrunk back a little on her
seat. "Are you rabbid?" she asked. The dog's mouth was unflecked
with foam, it's eyes lacking the madness she assumed
went with the disease. At her words its
hackles lowered and he reached out with his tongue to lap at her fingers.
"So Tony took me to this place called the Greasy
Griddle. Let's just say he didn't get me
a steak - and he tried to put his hand up my skirt before dinner came. So I punched him in the eye and got right
up! And as I'm leaving he yells at me
that he thought all of the girls in capping were easy. He said 'aren't all poor girls easy'?"
The dog growled and she patted his head. "Easy there. I ain't even really mad at him anymore. When I went home, I had a fight with Shirl. I tell her this guy thinks we're all easy and
she says, 'why didn't you stay away from him? Don't you know Tony's
married?' He don't
even wear a ring!"
Her hand was being licked; Laverne wiped them against the
dog's coarsely-furred head. Funny, the
texture of it was almost greasy...
"It was a dumb fight.
She said I shouldn't have worn something so short. What's wrong with this dress? It ain't like you can see my panties...hee! cut it out!" The licking was nearly getting
bothersome. "You're nicer than most
guys I know," she said. The dog had
closed his eyes in a display of ecstasy as she rubbed his head. "That's the one thing I can't figure
out, Mister Doggie. Why do I always pick
out losers?" She petted the dog one
more time and then sat back in the seat.
"I guess nice guys don't just drop out of trees or show up when the
moon's full."
It was then that the sky clouded over, the moon's light
obscured behind its frosty weight. When
she looked down the head on her lap was no longer shaggy, but the eyes were
startlingly the same. Otherwise, the
person leaning against her was nude, familiar and masculine.
Filled with fear and confusion, she cried out
"LENNY".
He looked up at her, embarrassed but as real as the ground
beneath them. "I can explain,"
he said...
The End