AUTHOR: Missy

EMAIL: lasfic@yahoo.com

PART: 1 of 1

RATING:  G

PAIRING(s): L/L;  SF/CR

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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: Supernatural/Romance

FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!

SETTING IN TIMELINE: Milwaukee Canon

SPOILLER/SUMMARY: "Once Upon a Time..." (Lavenny.  A Fairytale)

NOTES: Random, and possibly stupid.

***

Once upon a time, there was a man.  He was very tall and very slim, with big eyes the color of faded denim that glowed whenever he was happy.  And he was often happy.  His name was Lenny Kosnowski.

Anyone looking at his life from the outside would wonder about that happiness - it wasn't what you would call an easy or beautiful existence.  He was born poor and hungry; and was often he was dirty and tired as he slogged through his days in a Wisconsin slum.  As if his poverty weren't enough of an obstacle, he wasn't the brightest penny in the world's pocket.  Until he was twenty, he spelled his name 'X'.

But for every weakness Lenny possess, he gained a strength; like his best friend, Squiggy.  When they were both grown-ups at last, they got an apartment together, and a couple of okay jobs that brought him beer and movie tickets.  They would play pool and pinball and go cruising at Arnolds.  And sometimes a pretty girl would look at him (NOT Squiggy) and ask him out.  Lenny liked being with girls, but not many girls liked being with poor, dirty, horny, clumsy Lenny.   Even more tryingly, there was a special girl.  She had beautiful green eyes and the grace of a dancer.  Her name was Laverne DeFazio.

Lenny liked Laverne very much - and sometimes Laverne liked Lenny, when he wasn't chewing with his mouth open, or looking down her dress, or trying to stick his hand up her skirt - so for maybe five minutes a month they liked each other simultaneously. 

On a day that was quite like many others, Lenny found himself in the Pizza Bowl, Laverne's father's restaurant.  He ate with a fixed determination that was unusual for him because tomorrow Mister DeFazio was going to host his First Annual Dance Contest.  The winner would get a copy of Elvis' new record and a night of free bowling in the lanes.

Lenny knew, just knew, he had to win!  He'd been practicing all of the latest dances in his apartment for weeks - to Squiggy's horror - with Jeffery as his companion.  Lenny had never wanted anything more in his entire life.

An entire night alone with the person  of his choice.  Who would have to be...

"HELLO!"

Lenny jumped as Squiggy thumped a mug of beer onto the table.  "Geez, you scared me outta my pants!"

"Nah, they're on - what the heck's up your nose?"

Lenny sighed.  "I dunno - just thinking."

"Don't do that!  We don't got any aspirin left at home."  Squiggy took a moment to really study his friend.  "You ain't thinking about tomorrow, are ya?"

"Yeah!  Boy I hope I win!"

"Len!  Don't be a dope - if anybody in this room's gonna win, it's gonna be me!"

Lenny pouted.  "Who says? 

"I says!  We both know why you wanna win anyway," Squiggy snorted.  "Like Laverne's ever gonna go bowling with you?"

"We go bowling all the time."

"ALONE?" Lenny hung  his head.  "Face it, Len - she don't like you.  And unless you got some kinda fairy godbrother hanging around, she ain't never going to."

Lenny knew his best friend was right - and Squiggy knew everything, so his case was totally, completely hopeless.

But there was something Squiggy didn't know.

You shouldn't piss off a fairy.

***

The following day, everything seemed to go suspiciously well for Lenny.  His route took him to places nearby and finished his workday before 1.  That left him plenty of time to get ready for the contest.

There was something about Lenny that night - something almost eerily otherworldly.  He moved more fluidly, had an extra confidence that was simply un-Lenny like.  By some miracle, he out danced man after man, until finally it was down between himself and Carmine Ragusa.

Lenny was sweating bullets - Carmine wanted a victory nearly as much as Lenny did, and for a few similar reasons.  As they women they adored looked on, the two men - one squat and dark, the other lean and blond -faced off.

It was a contest worthy of the finest Broadway show.  Sweating, straining, both men fiercely competed.  Lenny locked eyes with Laverne, who watched the contest with the avid interest of a spectator at Wimbledon.

Carmine did the same for Shirley – and promptly tripped, thus disqualifying himself.

A surge of power ran through Lenny – for just one night, he was a better dancer than Carmine!  The crowd closed in to shake his hand, and even Mister DeFazio smiled as he handed Lenny the check and certificate.

After making his way through the crowd of admirers, he found Carmine, shook his hand, then moseyed up to Laverne.

"Hey, Vernie - are you free Saturday?"

She smiled, tilted her head - his new status as a hero clearly impressed her.  "Sure," she said. 

"I'm free Sunday, Leonard," Shirley smiled, peering over her friend's shoulder, earning a scowl from Laverne.

"Sorry, Shirl - you ain't my type," he said, gesturing emphatically toward his own chest.  Shirley groaned and went back to tending Carmine, while Laverne and Lenny locked eyes, exchanging bashful grins.

***

If everything had gone perfectly for Lenny on Friday, Saturday was a disaster.  He ran out of gas doing errands, which made him a half-hour late back to Knapp Street; then all of the shoes in Lenny's size at the alley were rented out.  When they finally got to play he beat her in twelve straight frames, then the "special of the day" pizza he ordered was loaded with green peppers - which Laverne turned out to be allergic to.  Romantic that he was, all plans for dancing and making out at Inspiration Point evaporated the second his date started heaving out the passenger side door.

Alone in his apartment, Lenny brooded over his lost shot with Laverne.  For a semi-lucky boy like himself, his clumsiness felt like a fatal mistake that had ended his golden hope of romance.

When the door opened, she stood there - a little paler than she'd been before, and wearing new shoes.

"Do you feel better?" he asked the window.

"Yeah," she smiled.  "Thanks for the date tonight."

He snorted.  "You threw up and I beat you at bowling."

She shrugged.  "I didn't say it was a great time..."  He groaned again.  "That's why we have to try it again."

"What?"

She bobbed and weaved a little.  "Practice makes perfect."

He smiled and stood, moving toward her.  "And you wanna practice with me?"

"Yeah.  That way you won't have to dance alone."

They reached for each other. 

And the rest?  It's like they say in the storybooks.

They lived happily ever after.