Striking The Print
Part 2
By Missy

SERIES: Striking The Print
PART: two of four pieces
Author: Missy
Email: lasfic@yahoo.com
RATING: PG (For language; eventual NC-17)
PAIRING(s): L/L
DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask (Please Email Me), 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!
DISCLAIMER: Laverne and Shirley, of course, not my property and belongs to its creators.
CATEGORY: Romance, Smut
Prequel To: Rolling The Camera
CANNON/SPOILERS: Alt canon for everything after The Robbery
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: How Lenny and Laverne ended up in Hawaii
NOTES: For Kath.

*** 

It had been cold that night, Laverne rationalized to herself as she liberated the candy machine of two Snickers bars.  And Lenny’s lips had been two plump icebergs as the smashed into her mouth.  No wonder she had gotten head-to-toe goosebumps and had spent a good half-hour in the shower trying to get the pleasant shuddery feeling out of her skin.  It all meant nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

Shirley kept their usual break room table warm, bright yellow egg salad slapped between two pieces of Sunbeam sitting on the table between their chairs, gummed up, her best friend’s dainty teeth marks pocking everything.  Laverne dropped one of the bars in Shirley’s eager hand before tossing her own selection onto the table, then opening her lunch sack.

In the brown paper lay a thermos of vegetable-tomato soup, a ham-and-cheese sandwich, and an apple.  Eww – apples.  She automatically searched the room for Lenny, with whom – since elementary school – she’d habitually swapped lunches, the school’s processed fare for her father’s clumsy home ec failures.  Lenny’s sudden absence left her feeling strangely unbalanced, lonely even though Shirley sat right beside her.

Gulping draughts of soup, Laverne pushed down the strange ache in her chest.  Her foolishness was just an insipid whim, nothing more.

“Here comes your boyfriend,” Shirley teased – she was really having far too much fun with the situation – and as Laverne turned her head to snarl at her up came Lenny.

For a moment he stood at the edge of the table, his porkpie hat perched upon his head like a commoner’s crown, his lunchbox clutched against his middle.  Laverne felt her cheeks redden as Lenny watched her, bearing a small knowing smile on his face. 

“Hey, Lenny,” she said, staring at her thermos.

“Hey, Laverne.”

“Hello, Leonard,” Shirley piped up.

Without even looking at Shirley, he asked, “can I sit down?”

Laverne locked her jaw, looking resolutely up into his blue eyes.  She opted for distraction.  “Ain’t you gonna have lunch with Squig?”

“He’s busy,” Lenny said.

She peeked around his long body, finding Squiggy hanging out by the sandwich automat, quickly glancing down at his hairy knuckles when she caught his eye.  “He don’t look busy to me.”

Lenny’s head whirled sideways.  “Heck!” he blurted.  “He looks sorta lonely – why don’t you keep him company, Shirl?” he winked rapidly, a very bad seizure.

“I don’t think –“ Laverne began.

“All right,” Shirley agreed, pushing back her chair.

“SHIRL!” Laverne whined, grabbing for her hand.

“Now Laverne, it’s clear to me that you and Leonard want to be alone…” her friend easily shook away Laverne’s desperate hand.

“I don’t,” she snapped through a clenched jaw.  She grabbed Shirley’s hand and nearly dragged her back into her seat.

Again, Shirley pushed her away.  “Consider it the opportunity you’ve been looking for to LET SOMEONE KNOW SOMETHING,” she said, pulling away and knocking Laverne down, scattering a dozen chairs in every direction.  “I’m sorry,” she said, but Lenny was already beside Laverne, helping her up as she rubbed her scraped elbow.

Lenny had his hands wrapped around her wrist and was rubbing with gentle vigor, heating her skin to a bright red, blowing against it as he would to spark a bonfire.  Wincing, she pulled free.  “Whattya want?”

He put down his pail, smashing the rest of Shirley’s sandwich beneath it.  “Do you have a date for tonight?” he blurted.

Laverne scraped the contents of her weary mind for his meaning.  “You mean to the dance?” 

He nodded.  “Squig got a date at the last minute, and he kinda wants to be alone with her,” Lenny scratched his ears, looking a little embarrassed. 

She nearly blurted out her usual, glib response.   Sure, Shirley’s going, sure, we’re all going… But he deserved honesty.  “Me and Shirl’re going together – she’s gonna be a black cat.”

“She ain’t going with Carmine?”

“He’s taking Lucille,” she admitted, abashed.  “Everyone’s gonna be dressed up – he don’t have to worry about her hubby finding them.”

Lenny shared her embarrassment; she could tell by his downturned mouth.  “Whatt’re you gonna be?”

Laverne smiled.  “A witch.”

Lenny grinned.  “You see?  It was meant to be – I’m gonna be a spear fisherman.”  Rubbing her temples, Laverne didn’t even bother to ask how their costumes would coordinate.   “Squig was gonna be a fish, but they were out of size four stout trout suits at the costume shop.  Him and his girl’re gonna be Lady Godiva and her horse.”

Laverne’s eyes bugged out.  “I gotta see that…”

Lenny’s grin turned dirty.  “Are you gonna be one of those sexy witches, with the tight dress and…”

She sighed.  “You’re such a dope.  The party’s at my Pop’s restaurant – everyone’s gonna see me.”

“Ohh,” he frowned.  “So…are we going out?”

Laverne shrugged, “sure.”  Her eyes bugged out as she realized exactly what it was she’d agreed to. 

His kissed her cheek.  “I’ll meet you at seven!”  Lenny then left, without unpacking his box.

Laverne rubbed the warm, damp mark he’d left upon her skin.  And tiny bumps erected fine hair all over her body…

****

“Sorry I’m late!” Laverne hollered as she threw open the front door.  “There was a line at the cash office.”  She took a look at Shirley, who sat on the couch worming basting stitches through the rear of her black leotard, and burst out laughing. 

Shirley spat a straight pin out of her mouth.  “Are they crooked?” she worried.

“Would it look better if they were?” Shirley’s foul glare made Laverne toss her coat over the side counter.  “I gotta go hem my costume…”

“It’s already finished.”  Her hands full, she tossed her head in the direction of their end table.  Laverne placed her purse on the side counter and rushed over to assume custody of her clothing.

Once her head was through the neck-hole, Laverne realized that she was covered from ankle to neck in thick, itchy material – the costume felt witchlike and useful for a cold autumn night, but not exactly sexy.  “I’m gonna take it in a couple of inches at the waist.”

Shirley put a final stitch.  “I don’t think there’s enough material,” she said.

“Shirl,” Laverne whined, “I’m gonna look fat standing next to you!”

“It’s Halloween!  The last thing anyone’s going to be thinking of is the size of your behind!” Shirley insisted. 

“I dunno…”

“Laverne, you asked for a modest costume,” Shirley replied as she picked up her leotard and cat’s-ear headband and made tracks to the bedroom.  “If you wanted it shorter, you should’ve measured differently.  Really, I’ve never seen you dither about something so simple before!”

Laverne didn’t want to get into why she’d changed her mind about her evening’s wardrobe so often.  She’d been walking the line for weeks now – trying to choose between wanting every head in the room to turn and wanting to stay hidden from Lenny’s admiring gaze.  She shrugged her shoulders – it really would take too long to deconstruct it all and make a new costume.  She grabbed a length of beads she’d trimmed her sleeves with, tied it around her waist, and donned her pointed black hat.  A quick glance in her hand mirror told her she hadn’t done too bad of a job.

Shirley emerged from the bathroom and Laverne’s jaw dropped – Shirley’s black leotard-tight combination was both form-fitting and revealing – she’d painted whiskers below her nose and added the headband to give the costume a more innocent appeal.  “What do you think?” Shirley asked.

“I think Carmine’s gonna like you a lot tonight.”

“I thought so, too,” Shirley declared proudly.  “THAT is the point,” she added, clearly thinking of Lucille.  “You look nice, too.  You’re gonna knock Lenny dead…”

Laverne shook her head.  “Shirl...”

The front door swung open and, to their mutual surprise, it was Carmine – wearing the world’s ugliest dog costume.  Laverne laughed aloud at the faded brown-and-white spotted suit, which had clearly seen too many parties.  “Nice, Carmine.”

He pulled at his bright blue collar.  “This thing’s killing….” His girlfriend rushed toward the door and helped him loosen the collar a little, and he looked Shirley up and down and let out a choked growl.  “Nice costume!”

“Laverne said you’d love it,” she preened, spinning around and smacking him in a sensitive place with her tail.  “But, may I ask, where’s Lucille?”

“Eh, she had to get her carpet shampooed.”

“Knowing Lucille, I am not shocked.”

“Aww, come on Shirl – don’t you wanna forgive this old dog?” he whimpered like the most pathetic dog possible. 

“All right, all right.  Are you ready to go scratch up the town?” she asked, showing him her red-painted and extended “claws”.

He grinned.  “Sure – just promise me you won’t take off the ears,” he grabbed her coat and held the door open, all but closing it in a glowering Laverne’s place as she vacated the apartment, following them to the streets.

****

The Pizza Bowl teemed with costumed twenty-somethings, who occupied the dance floor with vivacity.   Shirley and Carmine immediately blended into the scene – Laverne lost them, greeting Frank instead. 

Laverne’s father held center court, heaving platters of pizza, soda and beer over the counter and into the hands of his waitresses.  Laverne smiled, despite her father’s gruffness.  “Happy Halloween, Pop,” she pecked him on the cheek.

Frank wiped his sweaty palms on his off-white apron.  “You don’t have a date?” He asked.

Laverne flushed at his bluntness.  “Ted cancelled out,” she said lightly.  “Can I get a beer and a pepperoni?”

“ONE BEER AND HALF-HOT!” Frank shouted to the kitchen.  “It’s gonna be an hour.”

Laverne frowned.  “Aww!  You got an alley free?”

“Yeah – the one at the end next to the men’s room…”  He handed her a token.  “On the house,” he squeezed her upper arm gently.  “Nice costume.”

She smiled.  “Thanks, Pop.  Hey, Shirl!”  she called, but her best friend had blended into the masses.  “Shirl?” she tried again.  She groaned and retreated to the alleyway, where she started her first lonely game of the night.

On her second frame he – predictably - showed up.  “So – you wanna play?”

She turned around at muffled a giggle.  Lenny was wearing a face mask, flippers, a wet suit and Hawaiian shirt over his shoulders.  “Nice costume.”

“Thanks!” he beamed, irony, as always, sailing over his head.

“You’re gonna try to bowl in that?”

“Why not?  One time, me and Squig did a whole frame dressed up in fish costumes!”

She shook her head.  Lenny waddled up to the line, squared his shoulders, and tossed the ball.

Which landed in the gutter.

***

“It’s the floor.  The floor’s crooked,” he complained as they sat down for the pie.

“Oh, stop bein’ a baby!” she grinned.  “Ain’t every day you get beaten by the best bowler in Milwaukee.”

He gasped.  “Rosie Greenbaum!  Your Laverne costume’s so convincing!”

Laverne smacked his arm and he whined.  “You’re getting’ sauce on me.”

“Whattya whining for?  It makes your skin all soft!”  He smeared some on her lips, and she licked it off the second he took his finger away.

Now she laughed aloud.  “You know something?”

“What?”

“You made me completely forget I don’t have a date.  Thanks, Len.”

He pouted.  “Not a date?!  Whattya call all of this?”

She smiled.  “You walking me home.”

*** 

“It’s so beautiful!”

It was.  She kept her hands in her pocket and tried not to trip over the hem of her witch’s costume, he waddling beside her in his flippers.  They kept pace, side-by-side, under the chilly moon. 

“So – d’you have fun tonight?”

“I got a big tomato sauce stain on the costume, my hair smells like marinara, and I’m all sweaty from dancing,” she smiled up at him.  “I had a good time.”

“You woulda had a better time if you let me…”

She poked his side.  “We was slow-dancing right in front of my Pop, Len!”

“I coulda pretended I was patting you on the back.”  She realized he was teasing her, and she poked his shoulder.  “Wouldya forget it?  Look at that,” she pointed up – he did so obediently.  The moon glimmered down on them, too bright to be believed.  “My Grandma calls that a witching moon,” she said. 

“What’s it supposed to do?” Lenny wondered, his eyes wide.

She grinned.  “Make you grow a tail and two warts.”

He immediately checked his face and behind – which were blessedly smooth.  “Don’t do that to me, Laverne.”

“I like makin’ you sweat,” she admitted.

He snaked an arm around her shoulder.  “There are a bunch of things that’d make me sweat that we’d both like.”

Despite her tough words – her denials – she reached up and kissed him.  Tenderness washed over her, but the alarm bell of desire remained silent.    He pulled away, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Len…I dunno what I’m saying here, or what I’m doing…but can we take this a little slower?”

He moaned.  “Any slower and I’ll have blue…”

“Lenny.”

“Okay, all right….I’ll see you at work,” he mumbled, melding into the concrete –looking hurt by even her tiniest rejection.

Alone later, in the privacy of her bathroom, she wondered why his simple kiss haunted her more deeply than any fancy art of seduction she’d encountered.