AUTHOR: Missy
EMAIL: lasfic@yahoo.com
PART: 4 of
6
RATING: PG-13
(thematic material; possible eventual NC-17)
PAIRING(s): L/L
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CATEGORY: Romance
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE:
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne takes Lenny's final proposal far
more seriously than he intended. When
Laverne's mock-wedding starts to take on way more meaning than she intended,
Shirley begins to question the validity of her rushed nuptials to Doctor Walter
Meaney.
NOTES: From something Kath told me about the proposal scene.
***
Laverne knocked heavily on the door, wondering for the
millionth time why she'd decided to go to him of all people.
"Waah?" a whiny voice
came from inside.
"Lenny, it's Laverne."
The sound of cardboard hitting metal and fabric rustling
filled the air. She masked a smirk as he
threw open the bolts and took up space in the doorway, wearing his ridiculous
red smoking jacket. "So, you
decided to come up for a little nightshirt?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Go stick your head under the faucet," she retorted. "I needed someone to talk to."
He eyed her with a little smile on his face, but when she
didn't return the gesture he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. As she sat down, he crossed the distance and
took a seat across from her.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Shirl," she took a deep breath. "She's in trouble."
It took Lenny a long minute to absorb that news before
whooping. "That's great! Carmine's gonna be so happy!"
Laverne shook her head.
"She's still gonna marry Walter."
Lenny's face fell.
"Why?"
"Because she and Carmine've
been...yanno...for awhile now. He didn't wanna marry her back then, so she
thinks if she tells him he's gonna propose outta
guilt."
"But Carmine's already gonna ask her!"
"She don't know that - and if we tell her she's gonna
find out he's not on a fishing trip," Laverne bit her lower lip. "What should I do, Len?"
He took a long minute to think, then
said, "nothing."
Laverne's eyes widened.
"Gee, great advice - I either let Shirl wreck her life by marrying
some guy she don't really know, or I let her think she's settling for less by
marrying a guy who really does love her, but don't know she's in trouble."
"Carmine's a stand-up guy; it won't matter to him that
he knocked her up."
Laverne barely winced at Lenny's choice of words. "I know, but it matters to Shirl. She don't think
Carmine really loves her."
"That's a load of baloney. We both know Carmine licks the ground she
walks on."
"Yeah," Laverne smiled mistily. "But let's face it - they've been
together since they was fifteen years old. If he didn't ask her the time she nearly
died, why should she think he's gonna ask now?"
"Carmine's good at waiting," Lenny said quietly.
"Yeah - but this time he's waiting too long...why do
you think I shouldn't say nothing to Shirl?"
"Vernie, whenever you try to help Shirl with some big kissy-kissy problem she has, she always turns around and
gets mad at you for sticking your nose into it."
"So?"
"So why make Shirl mad at you? If you tell her you saw Carmine, she'll get
mad at him and get mad at you for not telling earlier. If you keep telling her not to marry Walter,
she ends up all alone like Tina in Teenaged
Mother, having to work at a go-go bar with her baby in a sling over her tip
belt..."
Laverne smiled.
"Shirl don't wear pigtails."
Lenny grinned back at her.
"But she'll blame you for not letting her marry Walter. So whatt're you
gonna do?"
"I dunno...I guess I should
just keep my trap shut and see how things work out with Walter." She smiled at him tenderly. "Thanks, Len - that was a lot of
help."
He smiled back. "Any time, Vernie."
She got up to leave and felt him behind her. "Yanno,"
he said, "now'd be a great time for a little
thank-you kiss..."
Lenny got that kiss five seconds later...from the door.
***
"Twenty-eight, thirty, thirty-two,
thirty-four, thirty-six, thirty-eight, forty!" Laverne tossed the rest of the money into a
bank bag and closed and locked her register.
"I'm beat, Shirl; you wanna get takeout at
Shirley emerged from the small employee bathroom at the back
of the wrapping room, her face white and drawn.
"Don't mention food to me," she requested quietly.
Laverne studied her with curious worry. "You wanna go home and have some
tea?"
Shirley nodded, then her eyes widened. "Oh no!"
Laverne had a wastebasket before her mouth in seconds, but Shirley pushed it
away. "Walter called me this
morning! He asked if you wanted to go on
a double date over at Wong Foo's, dutch treat!"
Laverne's interest piqued; she'd only met Walter once, and
at that briefly. "You sure you can
handle it?"
"I'm less nauseous," Shirley replied. "He said we should be there by
six."
Laverne spared a glance at the clock and immediately began
to panic. "It's five-thirty!"
"Relax," Shirley urged. "Wong Foo's is
very casual, remember? We can go straight
from work."
"Okay," Laverne mentally counted the amount of
money left in her purse and decided it was a doable endeavor. "Waitaminute -
who'm I gonna get to go with me? This is next to no notice."
Shirley squirmed a little.
"Well," she laughed.
"This is a funny story, Vernie, you're gonna laugh...I was telling
Walter about how you and Lenny have been talking about getting married, and we
were talking about how funny it is...and he said to bring Lenny."
Laverne's eyes bugged out.
"SHIRL!"
"You did say it was short notice!" she cried out
unhelpfully. "Besides, you and
Lenny have been out together plenty of times before."
"This is different!
He thinks he's going to marry me!"
"Yes," Shirley said, eyeing the diamond Laverne
sported on her left ring finger.
Laverne hid it against the rough material of the bank
bag. "We been
through this."
"Yes, but it doesn't stop you from bringing up Walter
over and over," Shirley pointed out.
"All right - let's make a pact," Laverne
said. She spat on her thumb and held it
out; Shirley did the same, reluctantly.
Together they said, "I solemnly swear not to say
anything bad about Lenny or Walter for the rest of the night."
"That's gonna be hard," Shirley said - frowning as
she wiped her spit-covered thumb with a Kleenex.
"We'll make it," Laverne said, retrieving her
purse. "We gotta
stop by the bank and deposit this before we go, so move it or lose it."
"All right," Shirley grabbed her coat from the
cloak room and tossed Laverne's hers.
"Wong Foo's is less than a block from
here and the bank is right next door - we've gotta
hoof it if we're going to meet up with Walter.
Lord knows I don't want another lecture," she added.
"He lectures you?" Laverne asked curiously,
lifting the partition cordoning them off from the exit.
Shirley rose and rested her shoulders. "He doesn't yell or threaten, but he is
a sophisticated gentleman who expects me to behave like a sophisticated
gentlewoman."
"Of ninety," Laverne murmured.
"You promised," Shirley whispered.
Laverne didn't add anything to that as she grabbed their
purses and they headed out the door.
**
"...I'm sorry!" Laverne blustered as they rushed
through the front door of Wong Foos.
"You don't need to appologize,"
Shirley said, her face just slightly green.
"I know the bank is a nightmare after six."
"But you had to toss your cookies in a potted
plant..."
"PLEASE don't mention cookies," she muttered,
leaning against Laverne's shoulder as they passed through the resteraunt's waiting booth and into its main body.
Wong Foo's, to Laverne's shock,
was jammed with people waiting on red polyurethane benches. She smiled benignly as she bumped into knees
and tripped over stretched-out feet, dragging Shirley behind her.
"LAVERNE!" she heard Lenny yell - he had staked
out two flimsy teakwood chairs near the dark-colored reservation desk; she
smiled at him benignly and made her way over.
"Hey Len," she reluctantly pecked him on the cheek
and sat directly beside him; she saw Walter sitting across the way and he
smiled in return. "Walter, how are
you?"
He took her hand and shook it briskly, "good evening,
Laverne - you came from work, I see."
Walter Meeney was a dark-haired and
heavily-mustached man of about forty, with dark charm and roughly-hewn facial
features. When Shirley silently hugged
and sat beside him, Laverne was stricken by their age difference - to the inobservant,
Walter could be Shirley's father.
"I forgot to tell her about dinner," Shirley
added.
"Now, Shirley - didn't I tell you to write down your
appointments?"
"I do write down my appointments," Shirley
retorted. "But I was at work when
you called, dear."
"You could have scribbled it down on your hand,
darling."
"I don't want to put ink on my skin, dearest."
Lenny cut in quickly, "You should try the pu-pu platter here, Wally; it's fantastic."
"Please, call me Walter," he said flatly.
Lenny shrunk back, and Laverne felt a little sorry for him;
almost without thinking, she reached over to squeeze his hand.
"Meeney, table for
four," said a small, dark-skinned man who seemed to be of Indian
descent. The two couples were led into
the spacious main dining room and found themselves reading thick brown
leather-bound menus.
Wong Foo's was swanker than
Laverne could have imagined. With
colorful lanterns lining the wall and clean red tablecloths, it looked almost
elegant. At the very center of the room
was a stone fountain with a carved Buddha at the center, the bowl of it filled
with fake water lilies, and there was a small stage with a green curtain where
karaoke parties were held during happy hour.
"How's about that pu-pu
platter?" Lenny asked.
"You only wanna eat that so you can say 'pu-pu'," Laverne retorted.
"I do not! It's
got everything! Look, wings and
fingers!" he thrust the menu at Walter, who winced away.
"He can see it, Leonard," Shirley retorted. "How about Chicken
Chow Mein?"
"That sounds good to me," Laverne reasoned,
knowing that something like chow mein was unlikely to
further upset Shirley's stomach.
"Okay," Lenny turned and met a redheaded waitress
with gray eye shadow waiting patiently at the side of the table. "Could you get us one pu pu
platter and one large chicken chow mien, please? And tell the kitchen you want a MISTER
KOSNOWSKI SPECIAL."
That sparked recognition in their waitress. "Yes, sir!"
"Lenny!" Laverne snapped.
"It's all right," Walter sighed. "I was sort of in the mood for ribs,
princess, I wish you'd asked."
"I'm sorry - my stomach has been bothering me all
morning. Little Wally doesn't seem to
like anything I put in my mouth," Shirley said, meekly.
"Little Wally?" Lenny wondered.
"Did anyone order drinks?" Laverne asked, watching
their waitress retreat through the masses toward the kitchen.
"Aww crap," Lenny
muttered, "LADY!" he bellowed, but didn't draw her attention.
"It's okay - I'll get
her," Walter said as he stood.
"One glass of red wine," Laverne said.
"I'll take a Shotz," Lenny said.
"Ginger ale," Shirley murmured.
Walter nodded, running after their waitress.
As Walter left, Laverne and Lenny gave Shirley a quick,
sharp look that she ignored. "I
like to be taken care of," she said.
"That's a little more than being taken care of,
Shirl."
"Promises, Laverne?" Shirley said pointedly.
Laverne grumbled, settling down. Shirley stood.
"Where are you going?"
"Ladies' room," she said flatly, taking off. As Laverne stood to go after her, the wild
sound of thrumming bongos came over the loudspeaker. "Oh boy!"
Lenny said, "here comes my surprise!"
"What surpris-eee!"
Laverne yelped as a man dressed in a stereotypical Polynesian outfit; a
colorful sarong, sandals and a necklace with a mock-skull in the center,
complete with grass skirt, twirling a burning torch, ran through the masses and
right to the stage. He was followed by
three more, men
of delicious build, all of whom made quite a display of their artistry; soon
four men were twirling torches and climbing on one another’s shoulders. Through the kitchen came a waiter who carried
the pu pu
platter. With great ceremony, he placed
it on the table; it was surrounded by candles spelling out "For Laverne,
Love Lenny." One of the juggling
fire twirlers lit the center torch and the platter of candles with surprising
ease. They continued their display as a
man in a Hawaiian shirt entered through the kitchen, playing "I Wanna Hold Your
Hand" quite dramatically on a ukulele.
Laverne looked over at Lenny; he grinned and toasted her with a cup of
what looked like red punch.
From behind them, they heard a horrified shriek.
"Oh dear - stop it!
Stop it!" Shirley called to the jugglers as she returned.
"What's the matter?" Laverne asked.
"Walter was in the Korean war
- fire causes him to have flashbacks!"
As if on cue, Walter emerged from the kitchen and let out a
shriek of horror at the sight of the jugglers.
By the time Shirley reached him he was at the center of a throng of concerned
waiters, who protected his hunched-over form.
Walter called, "Charlie! Charlie Bravo 6-0-6!"
"I'd better take him home..." Shirley said, picking
him up with surprising ease and dragging him toward the back door.
"But, but..." Laverne sputtered. She turned around to see Lenny's smile was a
few watts dimmer.
He held up his index finger.
"Check, please."
***
No words were exchanged until Laurel Vista was in
sight. "Was it a little
funny?" Lenny asked as he parked the car.
"No," Laverne said coldly, diving out of the passenger
side door.
Lenny's voice cut through the semi-suburban silence of the
neighborhood. "Aww,
come on Laverne - I didn't know Walter was crazy, honest! Didn't you like it a little itty bitty
bit?"
Laverne pivoted on her heel.
He stood behind her on the sidewalk, looking at her with great
hope.
She softened.
"Well...it was kinda neat. How'd you get those torch guys?"
"Squig picked 'em up at a
cattle call," Lenny said. "I
told them I was a big time
"How sorry?"
"REAL sorry."
Laverne pursed her lips.
"Okay, I forgive you. But
you gotta stop acting like a dope, Len," a
wicked thought entered her mind and she grinned. "You've gotta
practice being a grown-up for when we have kids."
He paled; parenthood had always been an unknown quantity to
Lenny. "Kids?"
"Well yeah - I want at least twelve..."
"TWELVE?"
"Sure," she forced her eyes to go dreamy,
"and we can give 'em all 'L' names; Lenny
Junior, Laura, Lisa,
Lenny had turned a little bit paler. "I was thinking maybe 'Adam'..."
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "But we gotta
wait until the honeymoon. After that, we
can start making our babies..." with that, she grabbed him to her and gave
him a hard, blood-stirring kiss.
Ignoring her own tingling nerves and flushed skin, she took
a moment to see him standing there. He
stood there, panting and glaring at her, his erection obvious as she opened the
door.
"Night Len," she said minxishly,
closing the door on his groan.
Alone in the apartment, she grinned. Her power was back. Now, what to do with it....