Pretty Paper
Part Seven
By Missy

SERIES: Pretty Paper
PART: 7 of About 12
RATING: R (Adult themes and materials, violent material)
PAIRING(s): Rhonda/Squiggy; Lenny/Laverne; Eddie Izzard/Shirley (Hold the questions a bit, just hold onto them ;-)
DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, Myself 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. 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: Drama
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: Post-Playing The Roxie. AU cannon after that.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Squiggy's Lodge gives him a birthday gift that he'll never forget, while Laverne and Lenny meet a man whose unusual behavior makes an impression on Shirley.
NOTES: Started a week before Chesyre's birthday. Squiggy as a hero is so rarely done.

The idea of strippers being raffled off to members of a lodge or fraternity is possibly an urban legend, but I got it from the painfully antiquated "Things You Always Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid to Ask". Be happy I edited out the part about the donkey ;-)

Eddie Izzard is a cross-dressing British comedian. I am not transporting him to the '50's through some magical timewarp, nor is the overtly AU or Magicfic. Instead I've composited a lot of Eddie's RL behavior and attitudes and stuff from his routines and placed him within the '50's backdrop of repressive Milwaukee. So it's sort of RP AU fic. No snideness. Send me questions if you have them. In the words of Mister Izzard: "Good, I hope you're coming along with this".

This fic was beta-tested by Ande, for your protection!

***

For Cheshyre,
On the occasion of her birthday,
For forgiving me for starting that whole Matt/Jeff Hardy incest ball rolling.

****

Shirley rolled over. Her sheets were tangled, her body was sweaty, and she felt strangely damp in some unaccustomed places.

She bolted upright, a little gasp of surprise echoing through her frame. Eddie, the night previous...they had happened.

She was somewhere between delight and worry. He was not beside her.

She groped across the floor for her filmy slip; another testament to the unusual day. She groaned, first at the stickiness between her legs, then at the mess on the sheets.

On her bedside table lay a note from Eddie.

"At Hotel. Need to think.

God, you challenge me,
Eddie"

Satisfaction curled itself into a smile as she used the shower. She did not feel guilt, only an odd loneliness that threatened to overtake her happiness.

Pain in sensitive places caused her to stagger into the living room, where she saw Laverne staring at the television. It wasn't on.

In one second, the girls looked at each other and could read within their naked expressions the truth.

"You!" they said together.

"You said you were waitin' for yer wedding!"

"You said you'd already done it!"

"YOU LIED!" They echoed.

Laverne sat up, making room on the sofa. "I made coffee. You start."

Shirley hesitated only a moment before sitting down next to Laverne.

"We number foured, with a number two. Then I gave him a number six."

Laverne's mind worked overtime to remember the codes from Shirley's diary. Her eyes bugged out when it was revealed.

"Geez, Shirl!"

"What?"

"I didn't know ya had it in ya!"

Shirley shrugged. "Eddie has a way of making me forget what I'm doing."

She then told Laverne everything she could repeat of what happened between she and Eddie in polite company. The rest Laverne could tell by staring at the hickey on her best friend's throat, the disheveled nightgown, the way she slumped.

"So, how was it?"

Shirley shrugged, smiled enigmatically. "It was nice."

"Ya feel dirty, don't ya, Shirl?"

Her eyes snapped to life. "No dirtier than you feel from wallowing in bed with Lenny Kosnowski."

"How did ya know?"

"Easy; you're both very lonely. I'm spending time with Eddie, Squiggy's taking care of Rhonda. You've both alone." Shirley reached over and grasped Laverne's hands. "Laverne, if you love that boy, you'd best be gentle with him. You mean the world to him."

Laverne tried to draw away. "Ya always said he was a disgustin' pig."

"Let's just say that I've learned to see beyond the covers of a book."

"You're wise, Shirl."

"I'd like to think I am, but I'm not." She smiled. "Not one of us is in control, but God. I can only lead with my heart."

"Now ya just sound like a phony, Shirl."

She sighed. "Well, tell me what Lenny was like."

Laverne, whose usual hunger for dirt didn't quite extend this far, blushed. "That's private, Shirl."

"Pshaw! You made me tell you about Eddie! You tell me, and I'll make breakfast."

"Well..." She plunged into the tale with great zest, and was ready to explain just how happy he had made her when Lenny burst through the door.

"Laverne!" He clambered down the stairs, completely ignoring Shirley. "Squig!"

"What, Len?" She rose, turning her back to Shirley.

"Prison! Rhonda's in prison! They said she killed her pimp last night on the news, and they're holdin' her on murder charges. Squig won't leave her!"

Laverne plucked her coat from the couch. "I gotta go bail him out, Shirl, stay here in case they call, Okay?"

Shirley nodded benignly. As soon as she cleared the breakfast dishes, she would make her way to Eddie's hotel.

***

"I checked her neck, and it was beatin'. That's the only thing I touched." Squiggy watched the spokes of the tape recorder move in quiet circles.

"So you didn't see Miss Lee murder Mister Wicker?"

"Nah. I don't know nothin' about a Miss Wicket." Squiggy leaned over the table. "I'll tell ya this much; if Rhonda killed her pimp? He deserved it."

"We don't have any evidence that Mister Wicker was a pimp."

"Why doncha go look, then?"

The officer's posture stiffened. "Are you questioning the authority and practice of this precinct?"

"No, I'm questionin' nothin'. I'm tellin' it like it really is."

The officer let out a sound of strangled menace. "You're free to go, kid. It's obvious you don't have anything for us to work with."

Squiggy let out a huff himself as he stood up. "Well, ain't you a gentleman!" He tugged at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

Strolling out into the hallway, he met a wall-eyed matron. "Is Miss Lee allowed visits?"

She shrugged. "With supervision. I'll take you to the cells."

***

Down in the holding pen, Rhonda played with her the torn strap of her uniform. He eyes brightened considerably at the sight of him.

"Rhonda?"

"Squiggy." She breathed. They met against the bars, only the cold metal separating their forms.

"I'm gonna get ya out of here, Rhonda. I know ya didn't do it!"

She shook her head. "I did it, Squiggy, I'm sorry, I did it."

He gasped, his eyes crossing under the power of her confession. "Rhonda, if ya keep sayin' that, I ain't gonna be able ta..."

"But I did! I killed him, and I had to." She was almost hyperventilating. "He was trying to rape me. He said that he wanted to get me back for those fees I stiffed him, that no one ever leaves his flock without getting jumped out...He pushed me down, he ripped my uniform, but he was stupid. For the first time in his life, he was stupid. He left the knife he wore at his side unguarded. I grabbed it. And I stabbed him until he stopped moving."

The words caused an overwhelming sickness to sweep through Squiggy. She talked about murder like it was a practicality, like buffing her nails.

"How am I gonna get the public defender ta defend that?" He asked, miserably.

"You won't." She smiled bleakly. "It's my turn to die, Squiggy. I paid my debt to him. I saved the other girls. There's nothing left on this earth worth living for."

"Oh yeah?" He grabbed her hand so hard that she cried out. "Whatta bout me?"

"You'll forget. It's too soon for you to really love me. You'll marry a good Lutheran girl and have kids. You might never get that with me."

"I'd make a rotten dad!" He managed. He would not cry in front of her; he'd never cried in front of any other living soul, besides Lenny, and even then he had lied.

"No you wouldn't." She patted his cheek. "Just let me go, Squiggy."

He swallowed his tears. "Rhonda, you ain't no saint. You wasn't meant for no dying day. Not like this. And I ain't gonna let it happen." He squeezed her hand. "I'm gonna go."

She watched him leave, shouting one last request. "I'm just going to break you, Squiggy!"

But he didn't hear her.

***

"So...last night."

Shirley didn't hesitate at Eddie's tone. She sipped his bracingly strong tea before considering his words. "Yes, last night. It was wonderful."

He flicked the ashes from his cigarette out of the open hotel window. "Too wonderful. Marvelous." He sounded nervous. She noticed that his mascara had made tracks down his left cheek. He looked as forlorn as she had felt in the morning, waking without him.

"Beautiful. I'm glad I waited for a man worthy of my virtue."

He stabbed out his cigarette on an ashtray. "I shouldn't have deflowered you, Shirley."

She froze. "Why on earth not? I'm twenty-seven, I'm not getting any younger, and you were kind enough to help me."

"Oh, give it up, Shirley! What else possesses a girl to remain a virgin for so long? You were waiting for a ring. And I don't think I, your platonic one-night-stand, had a right to do what I did."

She seemed crushed. "You didn't do anything I didn't want you do to. We made love and you consider our relationship to be platonic?"

"No, no. God! You daunt me!" He shook his head. "What I really mean is that you deserve a husband and a white picket fence! You deserve what you've been waiting for all of your life!"

"And?"

"And I'm a transvestite with a career in the navy. I'm your most fiendish nightmare."

"I'll be the one to determine what I do and don't find nightmarish." She said firmly. "I'm sorry that you're not taking this relationship as casually as I am."

"You're not taking it casually at all."

"And you shouldn't speak for me."

He groaned. "What can I give you? A tube of Dusky Spring and a nylon stocking? Nights of worry after what happened at Pearl Harbor?" She poured him another cuppa and took off her jacket. "God, I shouldn't have shagged you. Sex has a horrible way of turning the world upside down."

She shrugged. "Just remember that I'm a Feeney. We don't give up easily." She sat down in his lap and placed his cigarettes on the floor.

He clutched his cup like a drowning man, his smile beleaguered. "And that, my dear, is my worst nightmare."




TBC

Chapter 6
Chapter 8