Ocean Water
Part Two
By Missy

SERIES: Ocean Water
PART: two of ??
Author: Missy
Email: lasfic@yahoo.com
RATING: R (For language, adult themes)
PAIRING(s): L/L

DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask (Please Email Me), 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!

DISCLAIMER: Laverne and Shirley, of course, not my property and belongs to its creators.

CATEGORY: L/L; Drama
CANNON/SPOILERS: Alternate post-HTNYT cannon
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne's been keeping a secret for the past twenty years.
NOTES: Another one of those weird pieces that come out of nowhere...

***

What she remembered strongly was the smell.

Alcoholic, stuffy; as though a tub of disinfectant was nearby. It reminded her that she was safe, with people who knew what they were doing.

And it was hot, so hot. And there was blood on the wall...

A sharp pain cut off all thought; though her mind remained in disconnect, her body pushed against the pain.

She watched the long, copper chain on the light switch swing back and forth, timing it to her contractions. Somewhere, he Aunt Theresa screamed, and from the corner of her eye she watched the woman cross herself.

She was dying.

The doctor shouted something in Italian, and her aunt's expression changed.

"Once more, little one. Once more and your child will be here!" She said, dramatically, as always.

Laverne smiled blissfully. Over. It would all be over soon...

***

A screen door slammed shut downstairs, drawing her from her reverie. "Vernie?"

She stuffed the paper into a dresser door. "Len?" She rushed downstairs.

He was in the middle of tossing his jacket over the couch when she hit the bottom step. The instant he saw her, she was enveloped in his hug, "I missed you," He said customarily, while pecking her lips.

That too was customary...as was the mutual transformation of that kiss into something deeper and more passionate. With a groan, she pulled herself away.

"Lea's gonna be home soon," She panted.

"Aww!" His lips turned downward, and she remained close enough to kiss his lips. They turned upward instantly.

"You're back early." She didn't release her hold on him.

He nodded, "We're outta hot fudge."

She titled her head, "Len, you can have ice cream without hot fudge!"

He tilted his head, "Would you?"

She shrugged, "Nah." In truth, the parlor was doing exceedingly well; it had paid for their little house, while she had paid for every stick of furniture inside of it with her security job. The afternoon was damp with a chill, however. As good an excuse as any to come home early.

He felt the stiffness in her embrace, comprehended her tense stance through instinct alone. A look of worry overtook his face, "What's wrong?"

Too many years had gone down between them. "I got something to tell you..."

He clutched her, panic taking over, "Something's wrong with you?"

She shook her head.

"With one of the girls?"

She lead him to the couch, sitting down and taking his head.

"...I hate bad news..." He moaned.

"Well, that's the good part; this ain't exactly bad news..."

"Whatisit?" His accent thickened whenever he became impatient.

She smiled, "You remember the time I went to my Aunt Theresa's in Brooklyn, when we were sixteen?"

He nodded, "I hated that summer; Shirl kept buggin' me all..."

She took a deep breath, "Did ja notice how sick I was, all spring?"

"Yeah, but you said it was the Scooter Pies..."

She smiled, the only time she had ever really lied to him, and he still believed her. "It wasn't the Scooter Pies, Len."

"..Boy, the only other time I remember you bein' sick like that..." The tiniest glimmer of recognition appeared in his eyes, "Laverne..."

She closed her eyes. It would be easier to say with them closed. "I had a baby, Len. And I gave him up for adoption."

She waited for his words, negative or positive. Even a blow. None came.

And at that point the front door flew open.

"I can't believe this, I can't believe it...FOUR pages of poem analysis to write!" Complained Lea Kosnowski. Then she took in the unusual silence of her parents, and asked, cautiously, "What's going on?"


To Chapter 1

To Chapter 3