Lauren's Season Nine Continued!
Female Trouble
By Missy

SERIES: Lauren's Season Nine, Continued!
CHAPTER TITLE: Female Trouble
PART: 6 of 14, Episode 6, Pt.1 of 1
RATING: PG(Adult thematic material)
PAIRING(s): L/L; S/C; S/R (Possible)
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-Cali
CONTINUATION: Of Lauren's Season Nine
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Squiggy dates, Tommy rolls over, and Fonzie begins to get serious with Ashley Pfister.
NOTES: Thank you to Lauren for letting me continue her established continuity.

****

Lenny decided that he could live inside of this car. It had enough room for a fully-grown man to lie down, and room for a suitcase or two. Cars like that had a way of making him forget that he had a perfectly nice apartment.

"You, Lenny; I got a date out at Inspiration Point tonight; you can fill in, right?" Fonzie strode about the shop like a proud peacock, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

Lenny nodded, saying almost to himself, "oh, sure, Fonz..." He paused in mid-motion. "Wait, one date? Only one?

"You wanna yell it to the neighborhood?"

"Sorry, Fonz..." Lenny returned to the car, "I'm just used to ya goin' around and seein' lots of girls at once."

"It's understandable," Fonzie sniffed. "This girl's special, though."

"Oh yeah? Think she could be Missus Fonzarelli?"

"I ain't pressin' my luck. She's Ashley Pfister, of the Pfister Hotels," Lenny gaped his impressed state, as Fonzie watched Lenny's now-clumsy progress on the car. "Hey, don't tork the wheels to hard."

"Oh, I ain't gonna, Fonz; I really like this car."

"She's a DeSoto, Lenny."

"I know!"

"She's huge!"

"So? Don't mean she ain't a beaut."

Fonzie shook his head as he strolled out of the door, muttering something about 'no sense of taste.'


***


"Squig, I ain't gonna tell you how to get a girl!"

Squiggy pouted up into her exhausted face. "But you gotta know! You're a girl!"

"Why do you even care?"

"'Cause! I'm the only single guy left in Milwaukee!"

"Squiggy..." Pity washed over her as she saw the true upset in his expression. "Aww...why don't ya go out with Francine?"

"Cause she dumped me for Big Ed!"

"Big Ed? From Shotz?"

"There's only one Big Ed, Laverne."

She sighed, "Squig, I told Lenny this once; if you find a girl you have a lot in common with, and someone you have special feelings for, she'll be the one. The thing is, she has to like you back."

"Yeah, you try to find a girl who likes me back..."

"Squig, stop feelin' sorry for yourself and go wax the lanes."

He muttered something unintelligible, but definitely filthy on his way out of the room.


***


The electricity had finally come back on at Knapp Street earlier in the afternoon; to Laverne's relief, the September nights had not been cold enough to be unendurable. Edna's pursuit for punishment had only hurt others in the building.

Laverne and Lenny passed their evening in repose; Squiggy, grudgingly, had taken over evening duties at the Pizza Bowl, and Lenny had finished the last wreck Fonzie had lined up for him. Eating cold pizza in the living room while watching Tommy play on an afghan seemed the most sublime of evenings; it certainly wasn't exciting, nor was it supposed to be.

Laverne lay beside her son, trying to encourage him to roll over. Tommy lay on his back, watching his own mother with resentment.

"He's not doin' it, Len."

"I wonder why."

She snorted, rolling over onto her stomach. Tommy, to her surprise, followed her in a completely synchopantive move.

She let out a cry of delight, hugging the baby.

"Boy, he's getting' big..." Lenny remarked absently. Not as big as the car he'd fixed, but big enough.

"Yeah; one day he'll be movin' out for school."

Lenny winced. "I didn't say that!" he whined.

"Aww...feelin' old already?"

"No," Lenny pouted.

She kissed his chin, "I know how to make you feel better..." she sing-songed.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah...or I will after we put Tommy to bed..."

At that moment, Squiggy burst into the room, apropos of nothing. Anyone with eyes could see that he was distraught. He threw himself down onto the couch, wedging himself next to Lenny, and proceeded to glare into the middle distance.

"Squig?"

"I hate wimmin!"

"Okay."

"You wanna talk-"

"I hate men who LIKE women!"

"So you hate yourself."

Squiggy clutched his temples. "Don't make me THINK at a time like this, woman!"

"But...."

"But nothin'. Girls stink. Oh, can I sleep on the couch? My girlfriend locked me out of my place."

Lenny and Laverne shared a grievous look.

"I guess so..."

"Great. Hope your kid likes clarinet music..."


***

Lenny stroked the fixed surface of the DeSoto. "She's all set, Mr. Cunningham."

"Thank you, Leonard." Howard Cunningham smiled, stroking the dull tan rim of the car. He slipped behind the driver's seat and revved the engine. "Hmm; still purs like a kitten..." He murmured, driving away.

Lenny wiped his greasy hands upon his hips. It would be two hours until he could head back home, and Fonzie wasn't anywhere in sight. Shrugging, he sat down on his workbench.

A short yelp directed his attention to the floor, where Fonzie lay, dreamily staring at the ceiling.

"You're tryin' to scare me, aren't you?"

Fonzie seemed oblivious. "You ever notice how the grease stains line up just right on the ceiling?"

Lenny gave him a funny look. "Nope."

"They're kinda...pretty."

Lenny squinted at Fonzie. "You don't look so good, Fonz; maybe you should take the day off?"

"Nah...I feel great!"

"Oh wait...I know that look; it's love," he noted glibly. "Boy, Fonzie, you sure scared..." He gasped, "Fonzie?! In love?!"

"It ain't no disease."

"Nope," Lenny said, then absently he stared at the splotch of oil Howard Cunningham's DeSoto had left on the floor. "You think Mr. Cunningham would sell me his DeSoto?"

"Why would ya want a wuss car like that?"

"Cause..." Lenny placed the wrench back onto the floor and sighed, "I want Laverne to have nice stuff. I wanna be the best husband in the world."

"There ain't no such thing."

"I can try. Tommy's gonna be big, and soon we ain't gonna be able to take him around on our bikes. Laverne needs a big, fancy car like that."

Fonzie weighed these words, then lifted his chin, as though that one gesture decided his life. "I can get you one."

"Really? Aww, Fonz..."

Fonzie released a sigh at such gratitude that meant precisely what their conversation was about. Nothing but the indefinable dream.



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