Pink Roses
By Missy

RATING: R-ish (For smut)
DISTRIBUTION: To Squeaky, LW, Kai and FG so far; 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 adress 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!
NOTES: An answer to my own challenge, and a special fic for Ashley.
CATEGORY: L&L, Romance, Drama, angst.
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: An unexpected encounter between Lenny and Laverne leads to complication.

For Ashley, on the occasion of her birthday.

***

"See, Len?" She smiled cheerfully, "Now no one ever has to know." A glass of beer lay on her lips, a flood of alcohol trying to erase the lesson she'd learned.

"Yeah, Vernie" His voice drowned in a thick layer of emotion clogging his throat, "No'ne." His eyes drifted to the Pizza Bowl's freshly rebuilt ladies' room.

"Stop lookin' so sad, Len," She sighed, "Wishin' ain't gonna take it back."

He could only feel sad for her lack of feeling. "I don't wanna take it back."

Her expression showed how sorry that she felt for him, "Desperate times," Was all she could add, "Desperate times."

***

She had charged into the ladies room like a woman enlivened by doom. "Squig. Out."

"Huh?" His best friend had been trying to scribble out a will in hair grease on a spare piece of toilet paper. Death had embroidered them both with fear, awareness of mortality. Laverne fiercely grabbed Squiggy by the hair worm and yanked.

"I WORKED ALL DAY ON THAT!" Squiggy wailed. He put up both of his fists, fully prepared to fight Laverne.

"Squig," She said, with an eerily calm voice, "Me an' Len wanna be alone. Now."

"NOW?!" Squiggy asked, incredulously, "You wanna vodeo-o-do-do wit Len NOW?!"

"Desperate hours, Squig," Laverne announced, "An' speakin' of desperate; Shirl's sittin' out there just as crazy as I am." Her eyes darted to the dining area, as if she might shove him through the door with her very gaze.

Squiggy's face melted into a more seductive expression; whistling to himself, he tugged the lapels of his leather jacket upward and exited the room.

Lenny stood there, his entire form stiff with fright as Laverne practically threw herself on him.

"This ain't gonna be like I pictured," Laverne sighed, "I guess bein' linked with you through eternity won't be so bad." With that, she kissed him.

Laverne had always kissed like a nymph afire, even if she hated the feeling of him. Lenny had responded; had pushed her against a wall.

In the background din, there were screams, noises; Squiggy, quite obviously, wasn't going to get nearly as far with Shirley as Lenny was going to get with Laverne.

Going to get with Laverne. He was going to die before the robbers got to him.

Then thought died completely, swallowed by rushing blood, pleasure, discovery...

***

"Yer still thinkin' about it."

Lenny snapped back to reality at Laverne's voice. "Huh? Nah, I was thinkin' about..." His eyes followed a big-busted blond absently, "..about..if she has a sister fer Sqig!"

Laverne's voice rang clear with exasperation, "Len, that's Gloria Fulmi. She married Ed Fulmi..."

"Ed 'The Killer' Fulmi?! Squig an' I saw 'im at the Fister Arena. He was poundin' on Ted Lewin, an..."

"And you weren't lookin' at her." Laverne replied.

Lenny decided, simply, to quit lying. "Yeah," He said, "I was lookin' at the prettiest girl in the joint."

"Lenny," Laverne said, her tone warning, as if his own name could stop the flood of speech issuing forth.

"...Lookin' at the girl I made love to four months ago.."

"Len!" Desperation began to pierce her speech.

"...It meant a lot to me Laverne, it meant a whole lot..."

"I don't wanna talk about this now.." She was almost whining as she put down her beer glass. "It don't matter; I ain't pregnant."

"...An yer just glad 'cause you ain't gonna get fat!"

"STOP IT! Yer gonna start sayin' that yer proposin' was serious.."

"I'd love to get ya fat, Laverne," He stated, softly. Passionately.

The entire room seemed to go still. Laverne felt sweat pour down the back of her neck under her woolen winter coat. How could everyone around her be so oblivious? Frank danced by, cheek-to-cheek with Edna. So Laverne's eyes fell on Shirley, who sat listening to Carmine sing, enraptured. Bitter came the truth; Shirley, so virginal, saving her body for her patient knight in tarnished armor.

A frown marring her imperfect features, Laverne stomped out of the restaurant.

She felt Lenny behind her every step of the way, only stopped at the sound of his voice. His face crumbled at the recognition of tears flowing down her face.

"Why'd it haveta be you, Len?" She blurted out, "Yer such a sweet guy..."

Lenny snorted, frantically trying to hold back tears of emotional pain. His hands thrust forward, battling the temptation to grasp her to him and just hold her.

"Yer too good fer me!" She had almost shouted those words, and they made him freeze on the ice-coated curb.

"Laverne," His voice was soft, tender, "Yer the greatest woman in the world. There ain't no guy out there that's good enough fer you..."

"Then why don't things work out good with nice guys like you?" She wondered. The words had come without permission of her ego.

He touched her fingers; tentatively, "Maybe, Vernie," He looked into her eyes, "Do ya think it's possible that we were meant fer this?"

She watched him, preparing another denial. Then she saw her hand, her simple hand, the way it looked spread across his fingers.

They fit.

She hadn't realized it, even when he'd united with her so intimately. Now, emotions clarified under his watchful eyes.

"You make me wanna try, Len." She confessed. Abruptly, she was in his arms, and his mouth was on hers. Her arms drifted blissfully around his neck; he kissed with all of the passion in his being, and it was almost overwhelming.

When he tore himself away, he gasped, "How long's Shirl gonna be at the Pizza Bowl?"

Laverne thought for a moment, "Carmine's set don't end til one."

Lenny grinned, "Ya think Shirl'd notice an extra lump in yer bed?"

"Not if yer quiet," She ran her fingers over his lips, "Promise me yer gonna protect me this time?"

He smiled wickedly and, with nimble fingers, plucked an accordioned pile of foil packets from the back pocket of his jeans. Amusement shone on Laverne's face as they fell, unbound, into the cold night air.

"From Squig?"

"Yeah," He said, his expression dashed with confusion, "Though I don't know what I'm supposedta do with these water balloons..." She suppressed her laughter as they walked down to Knapp Street, hand in hand.

***

Laverne woke up smiling, and clad so very innocently in pajamas. The bed beside her, filled with the form of her sleeping best friend, revealed nothing of what had gone on.

One day at a time, she thought to herself. Turning over, something soft brushed her cheek, teasing her lips. Laverne raised her hand to drive away the ticklish feeling. One finger slipped across a thorn, skating sharpness, the risk poised but not threatening.

With one eye open, Laverne saw them; a pile of pink roses, one for each year she had known Lenny Kosnowski.

She smiled and embraced their softness, imagining his form in her arms, his face above hers.

)