A/U: California Setting, post-The Note
Pairings: L/C and L/L
Rating: PG-13

This is Part 1 of a planned three-parter. Happy merry whatever-holiday-you-celebrate!


Lenny's List

"Are...are ya really, really sure?" Lenny Kosnowski bounced on the edge of the examination room table, praying in his head that Dr. Quackenbush was pulling some kind of twisted April Fool's joke on him. Even though it wasn't April.

The grey-haired older man peered at him over wire-rimmed glasses. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Kozinski. The tests are conclusive."

"Kosnowski," Lenny corrected, automatically. Why did everyone get his name wrong? It wasn't that hard. You'd think a guy who went through life named Quackenbush could at least try and get it right, he thought, especially when he's giving me such crappy news.

Lenny felt like someone - probably Squiggy - had dumped a bucket of ice down his back. He had a hell of a lot more to concern him than the doctor's mangling of his last name. Is this real? Naw, it can't be. But one good look at the doctor's face told him that it was.

"So, I'm dying," he said, testing the thought out loud. He hated the sound of it in his ears as much as in his head. "I'm dying. Geeze, but how? Why?"

"Advanced acute lymphoma," said Dr. Quackenbush. "I'm very sorry, young man. I know this is a shock."

"Yeah, you could say that." He'd only gotten the damned blood test at the behest of his new employer, L.A. Tow and Go. I was gonna be the tow truck guy. He'd been so excited. But now...? "Um, how long've I got, doc?"

Dr. Quackenbush was juggling his chart and a few others. He nearly dropped the rest on the floor as he hastily flipped through it. "Well, ah, one can never say for sure, but if you want my best estimate?"

"Sure, it's only my life. Let's play guessing games," said Lenny.

If the doctor caught the intended bitter sarcasm, he didn't show it. "Typical progression at Stage 4 is - well, at the outside - six months."

Lenny's throat tightened and when he inhaled it sounded like a gerbil was speaking out of his voice box. "Six...only six months? That's like nothin', doc. What am I supposed to do? Isn't there anything you can give me to, you know, slow it down?"

The doctor had already shuffled his chart under another, ready to move on to the next patient in the very crowded clinic. He barely glanced at Lenny when he said, "You could elect to spend whatever time you have left in a hospital, getting pumped full of drugs that'll make you feel sicker than the lymphoma may ever make you feel," he said. "In the end, all they can do is stall the inevitable by maybe another couple of months."

Lenny's eyes lost focus. The doctor and the room blurred into a watercolor haze as he struggled to process what he was hearing. Numbly, he asked, "Is that what you'd do?"

Dr. Quackenbush caught a falling chart and asked, "Hm? What?"

Lenny sighed. "If you was me, doc. If you was the guy sittin' here getting told his life's over before he hits thirty. Would you check yourself into some cold, lonely hospital and get poisoned until he dies? Is that the right thing, to fight as hard as possible for whatever extra time it gives me?" His voice kept going up and he rose to a half-standing, half -crouching position, arms wrapped around himself like a mother's hug. "Tell me, Doctor Professional-Bad-News-Giver! What do I do with all this great info you just dumped on me!"

The doctor stared at him, his charts precariously clutched against his chest. For the first time since he'd entered the room, Lenny felt like he had the guy's full attention. "If I was you, young man?" Dr. Quackenbush took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks as he let it out. "I'd live every minute of the life I was getting cheated out of in these next few months. I'd do it all, see it all, drink it all, snort it all, screw it all - I'd live, Mr. Kozinski. I'd just...live."

"Kosnowski." Lenny blinked and slowly sagged back down onto the table. He wasn't so sure about the snorting, although the screwing sounded like fun. All in all, though, it didn't sound like half-bad advice. "Uh, okay," he mumbled. "Thanks, doc. That sounds...yeah."

"Yeah," echoed Dr. Quackenbush. "Take your time in here, all right? Just make sure you stop by the reception desk on your way out, so they can make sure your bill goes to the right place." He pulled open the door with difficulty, charts threatening to rain down onto the floor. "Goodbye, Mr. Kozinski. And good luck."

"It's Kos..." Lenny began. But the doctor was already out the door. "Never mind," he said as the door drifted shut.

He sat there for awhile, sorting through the jumble of thoughts and feelings that made him want to explode. Finally, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. "It is what it is," he said with a sharp nod. Then he hopped down from the table and reached for his Lone Wolf jacket. He picked it up and stared at the embroidery on the back. The "one Wolf" was all in the same stitching; only the "L" was in cursive and clearly added later. He remembered when Laverne did that for him and smiled.

Only she could make me smile at a time like this, he thought. He ran his fingertip over the "L" and cocked his head to one side, considering. "Maybe this little kick in the keister don't have to be all bad," he mused, aloud. Then he slid his jacket on and left the examination room, a new determination brewing in his gut.

*

Dr. Quackenbush walked into Exam Room 3. "Hello, Mr..." he glanced down at the chart he'd moved to the top of the stack, "Kosnowski. And how are we today?"

The elderly man sitting on the examination room table tilted his head and held a hand behind his right ear. "Eh?" he said. "What'd you call me? Speak up!"

Dr. Quackenbush sighed, suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. This was going to be another, very long day.

*

Lenny knew he'd made a mistake in telling Squiggy the truth almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. It just hadn't occurred to him to lie to his best friend in the whole wide world about something so huge. If he'd known how the little guy would react, though, he'd have reconsidered.

Squiggy busted out laughing. "Ha, yeah, and I got the Bubonic plague! Very funny, very funny."

"How is it funny?" asked Lenny, blinking.

Squiggy guffawed a few more times then abruptly stopped. "Hey, I was just tryin' to make you feel better about your lame joke," he said. "Actually, there ain't too much funny about it. In fact," he added, his expression darkening, "it's kind of a crappy thing to say to someone, that you're dying. What the hell is wrong with you, makin' a joke outta somethin' like that?"

"I ain't joking, Squig," said Lenny. He held his hands, palms out, toward Squiggy as his buddy advanced on him with murder in his eyes. "It's the truth. The doc just confirmed it. I'm sick and I don't have a lot of time left."

Squiggy halted, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He glared up into Lenny's face as though trying to see his thoughts through his skull. A moment later, his hands loosened and his dark eyes widened. "Honest Injun?" he asked. "You ain't yankin' my chain?"
"I wish I was," said Lenny. He gave a little shrug. "I got, maybe, six months left. But, hey, it ain't all bad." He tried to smile, but only managed a wobbly little grin. "This whole thing's lit a fire under my hiney and I'm gonna live whatever time I got left like I ain't never lived -"

Squiggy burst into tears.

Lenny snapped his flapping jaws shut so fast that he nearly bit off the tip of his tongue. He stared at Squiggy, horrified, as his best buddy curled in on himself and cried like Lenny had just killed all his moths right in front of him. Again.

"Uh, Squig?" he said. "It's - ah, it's okay, man."

"Okay? Okay!" Squiggy shouted through his tears. His face was bright red. "You tell me my bestest friend is dyin' and that's supposed to be okay? Ain't you got no feelings?"

Lenny scratched the top of his head. "I'm kinda the one who got the bad news," he said. Shouldn't he be the one falling apart and in need of comfort? Squiggy made things so confusing sometimes.

Oh, well. He patted his sobbing buddy on the back. "There, there," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't think how my dying would hurt you. I should've said it nicer."

Squiggy sniffled. "Yeah, you big dumb inconsiderate," he began. Then he glanced up at Lenny and his lower lip trembled. "Great, terrific, best buddy ever. What am I supposed to do without you?"

Lenny suddenly felt worse than when he was in the doctor's office. He hadn't thought through how his news would hurt the people around him. "I dunno," he said, giving Squiggy another thump on the back. "It kind of sucks we won't be able to hang out much longer. But, hey, that don't mean we can't have some fun until I...uh, go, y'know?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Fun." Squiggy pulled away from him and turned his back. He grabbed a couple of socks Lenny was pretty sure belonged to him off Lenny's bed and blew his nose into one while wiping his eyes with the other. When finished, he tossed them back down on the bed. Lenny made a mental note to burn them. "So," said Squiggy, turning to face him again, some of his composure recovered. "What do you mean by fun?"

"Well, I mean that it's kind of freeing, y'know?" Lenny struggled to put his recent conclusions into words. "I mean, a lot of stuff that seemed like a big deal before now seems kind of minor, in comparison. All the things I was afraid to do, the chances I didn't want to take, the risks I kept putting off for later." He shrugged. "Well, there's no more later. There's only now. So, I'm gonna do 'em, all of them. And, naturally, I want you to help me."

Squiggy rubbed his chin. "Well, I guess I ain't got nothin' more pressing to do," he said, slowly. He brightened. "Okay, so what you want to tackle first? Should we throw water balloons at Mr. DeFazio or have an orgy with Rhonda?"

"This is gonna be stuff I want to do, Squig, not you," said Lenny. "I'm the one on borrowed time, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." Squiggy shrugged. "Fine, fine, so it's all about you, as usual. What do you want to do, Mr. King-for-Six-Months?"

Lenny liked the sound of that. He was going to be like a king for the next six months. If he wanted it, he was going to get it, no matter what it took. What was the worst that anyone could do now? Jail, rejection, poverty, getting beat up -- whatever anyone threw his way was nothing compared to the big sleep that already waited. He'd never felt so free in his whole life.

"Well, first of all, I'm swearin' you to secrecy," he said. Squiggy opened his mouth to argue, but Lenny held up a hand and shook his head. "Nope, my mind's made up on that. I don't want all our friends wailing and beating their chests every time I walk in the room. I'm still feelin' pretty good and probably will until closer to the end. I want us to all have fun, lots of laughs, without a cloud of sad hangin' over our heads. All right?" He gave Squiggy a hard look, so the little guy would know he meant business.

Squiggy chewed his bottom lip, but then nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll keep it under my hat."

"You ain't wearing a hat."

"Yeah, but it's an express...forget it. I promise I won't tell." Squiggy mimed locking his lip with a key and then tossed the imaginary key away.

Lenny nodded his approval. "Okay. The second thing is I need a woman."

"Now you're talkin' my language!" Squiggy bit his palm.

Lenny grinned. "Not just any woman. One in particular."

Squiggy's hand dropped. "You don't mean Rhonda, do you?" He got a weird look on his face, like he was fighting inside his own head. "'Cause, I mean, I'm sad about you doing that thing we're not tellin' anyone you're doing, but Rhonda's kinda my sacred cow. In a good way."

"I know that," said Lenny. He'd never go there, even though it'd probably be a thing he remembered all the way into Heaven, because it'd hurt Squiggy. Besides, as smoking hot as Miss Rhonda Lee was, he didn't have a history with her. He didn't have a place in his heart for her that had been locked up for years with a big "L" painted on its door. "I ain't talkin' about Rhonda, neither."
Squiggy's eyes narrowed then opened wide. "O-o-oh," he said, with a knowing nod. "You mean..."

"I mean," said Lenny. "Exactly."

"Well, then." Squiggy clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "When do we get started with Operation Get Laverne?"

Lenny cracked his knuckles and rocked on his heels. "No time like the present!"

*

Lenny stared at the door to Laverne's apartment and wiped his brow. He wondered if the cold sweat was from nerves or a symptom of his illness.

"That door ain't gonna knock on itself," Squiggy pointed out.

"I know. I'm gonna do it." He steeled his nerves. "I'm doing it." He knocked, three times, very lightly. "Look, see, I did it. Oh, well, guess she ain't home. Better check at Cowboy Bill's." He started to turn away, but Squiggy caught his sleeve.

"What are you, a mouse? Who could hear that?" Squiggy pounded on the door hard enough to shake it on its hinges. "That's a knock, right there."

"Yeah, it sure is," Lenny muttered. He heard a muffled, "I'm coming already!" from the other side of the door and his heart fluttered.

A few moments later and the door opened, to reveal Laverne in a pale blue minidress, her hair wild around her face, a hairbrush clutched in one hand. "What do you guys want so early?" she snapped, green eyes flashing. "People are getting ready for work around here!"

"What people?" asked Squiggy. He pushed past her into the apartment. "Shirley's off being the Mummy Bride, unless that's already over."

"No, it ain't...did I invite you in?" Laverne followed him. Lenny, feeling ignored, trailed in behind her. "Fine, let's get this over with," she grumbled. "If it's money or food, I ain't got neither, at least not for you guys."

"Oh," said Squiggy, stopping in his tracks at the entry to the kitchen. "Hey, Carmine. What're you doing here?"

Laverne groaned. Lenny glanced at her and saw her cheeks turn pink. Then he redirected his eyes toward the kitchen, where Carmine Ragusa was sitting in front of a bowl of cereal, the spoon halfway to his mouth. "I'm...having breakfast," he said. "What does it look like?"
"It looks like you're havin' breakfast," Squiggy confirmed, hands planted on his hips. His tone was accusatory.

"And that's your business how?" asked Carmine. He went on eating as if Squiggy had vanished.

"You guys can go now," said Laverne.

Lenny's heart sank into his sneakers. So. This is how it is, huh? He should've suspected there was something going on between Carmine and Laverne. Ever since Shirley got married, pregnant, and left town in rapid succession, something had changed between Laverne and Carmine. They'd started hanging out a lot more, instead of less, like you'd think would happen now that he wasn't with her roommate anymore. He was at her place so much, and at all hours. Lenny had been telling himself it was a mutual comfort thing, that they both missed Shirley and so were cheering each other up over her leaving. Now, though, he had to wonder if they'd moved from simple comfort to something else.

Clearly Squiggy thought the same thing. "Well, well, well." He jabbed his forefinger at Carmine, who swatted it out of his face. "So, Mr. Ragusa, are you or are you not at this young lady's house awfully early for a 'friend?'" He made air quotes with his fingers.

"I'm not doing this before 8a.m.," said Carmine, flatly. He stood up and picked up his nearly empty bowl.

"Ah, ha!" said Squiggy, as if he'd proved a point. "And, in point of fact, sir, are you not the ex-boyfriend of Miss DeFazio's ex-roommate whom you once almost-betrayed with same ex-roommate of your ex-girlfriend?"

Carmine ignored him and put his bowl in the sink with some water. "Laverne, I'll see you at Cowboy Bill's tonight?"

"You bet," she said, brushing her hair out.

"So you admit it!" exclaimed Squiggy. He glared at Carmine as he brushed past and into the living room. Carmine touched Laverne's shoulder. She turned and kissed him. On the lips.

For the first time since his diagnosis, Lenny felt like he was dying.

"Have a good day, hon," said Laverne, tenderly. Carmine grinned and playfully mussed her freshly-combed hair. She squealed and smacked his hand away.

He walked to the door, whistling, then paused. "You want me to take the trash out to the curb on my way?" He glared over at Squiggy, barely spared Lenny a glance.

"Shut up, Carmine," said Lenny. His mouth moved before he could think through his words. "Stop being such a damned bully all the time. Just 'cause you can beat guys up don't give you the right to be an ass to everyone all the time!"

You'd have thought he'd set off a bomb, the way everyone in the room froze in place, the expressions on their faces. Squiggy's mouth sagged open and his eyes went so wide that the eyeballs could've rolled out of his head. Laverne held the brush against one side of her head and she squeezed her eyes shut then blinked them open, as if unable to believe what she'd just heard.

As for Carmine -

Lenny didn't have time to evaluate his body language or expression, because he was too busy being slammed back against the wall and having his breath cut off by the forearm suddenly wedged under his chin. When his vision cleared, he found himself staring into Carmine's nearly-purple face and dark brown eyes that blazed into his. Oh, well. So much for having six whole months to live, Lenny thought, his pulse pounding in his ears.

"You got a death wish or something?" Carmine snarled. "Who in the hell do you think you're talking to?"

A death wish. Yeah, he wanted to die. He wanted to miss out on the umpteen-more decades he should have had to look forward to. Anger rose from deep in his gut. He knew in his head that most of it wasn't directed at Carmine, but it didn't matter. He was a living, breathing something to be pissed off at, unlike this stupid illness. He was an opportunity to let some of the ache out.

Lenny planted his hands firmly against Carmine's shoulders and shoved, hard. Carmine stumbled back a step, but recovered so quickly that Lenny couldn't slip free from between him and the wall. Fine, he couldn't overcome the former Golden Gloves champ with brawn, but he could still give him a piece of his mind. "I think I'm talking to you, Mr. Handsome, Mr. Suave and debby-nair." He never could get that word right. "You ain't got enough girls on the line, you gotta go after Laverne, too? You know what you are, Carmine?"

He managed to shove his hand between them and stuck his forefinger up under Carmine's right eye. "You're a dog. That's why Shirley ran off with the first doctor that came around, even though he looked like something out of a horror movie. She was sick of being jerked around by a...a jerk who couldn't commit, who just wanted to have a girl waitin' around in case one of the other ten he was out chasin' didn't come through that night!"

"Lenny!" Laverne was at his side, so deliciously close he could smell her apple-scented shampoo. "Have you lost your entire mind? Stop it, stop sayin' - stuff!"

"Why should I, Laverne?" It was getting harder to talk, what with Carmine's arm cutting off most of the oxygen to his brain. "Don't like hearin' the truth about your new boyfriend?"

His tone became pleading as he redirected his ire to her. "God, woman, what is wrong with you? It ain't like you haven't been around to see him in action the past seven years. Or have you and him been goin' at it behind Shirl's back all this time?"

Lenny's eyes stung with tears. So stupid, as usual. He'd thought he'd just waltz in and sweep Laverne off her feet, like a woman like her would be just waiting around , free and available. Of course she was already with someone else, someone who was a real man. Just because his lifespan had gotten a lot shorter didn't mean everyone else was suddenly available to fulfill his wishes. I'm gonna die alone, he thought, even as Laverne's face flushed bright red.

She slid an arm between him and Carmine, and pushed Carmine away. This time, he did back off, out of consideration for her. However, he remained close by, fists tight, chest heaving with unreleased fury. Lenny enjoyed a few moments of precious air before Laverne slammed him back against the wall and her two forearms replaced Carmine's one. They were equally effective. "How. Dare. You!" she said right into his face, her lips tantalizingly close to his. "How dare you accuse me of doing something like that to Shirley! You callin' me a tramp, Kosnowski?"

This was all going so very wrong. Lenny felt a sudden wave of exhaustion that washed away his earlier rage. He let his shoulders slump. "No, of course not," he said. "I didn't mean...but come on, Laverne. Carmine? Really? Of all the guys you could have?"

The pressure against his windpipe increased. "Yeah, and so what? What's it to you who I'm with? It's none of your business!"

"I'm painfully aware of that," croaked Lenny. He was starting to feel lightheaded.

"Um, Laverne?" said Squiggy, sounding a lot more subdued than usual. "Maybe you should back off of him a little. He's...ah...not up to wrestlin'."

Lenny shot him a warning look. Don't you betray me! he thought as hard as he could, hoping he could send the words into Squiggy's brain by sheer force of will.

"He sounded pretty up for it when he attacked me for no damned reason," said Carmine, eyes still full of fire.

"Yeah, well, belligerence can be misleading," said Squiggy. He lightly patted Laverne's shoulder. "Could you please stop murdering him now?"

"Maybe once he explains what this little dog-and-pony show was about," said Laverne. "You guys show up here first thing in the morning, butt in on my personal life - which I'm actually used to by now - but then Lenny here takes it to a whole 'nother level. Why?"

Her tone was still infuriated but in her eyes he saw pain. I hurt her feelings, Lenny realized. He wished he could drop dead right then and there. Actually, he kind of felt like he might. If only the room would stop spinning.

"Can't you see he's lookin' a little peaked?" Squiggy was tugging Laverne's arm. "Look, this is all one big misunnerstanding, all right? Let me take him home and...."

"What is up with you two?" Carmine's hands had relaxed by his sides and he was looking less angry, more puzzled now. "Lenny, especially, what got into you? You and me, we've never had a problem before, not really. You come running in here out of nowhere and bawl me out like a jealous..." He hesitated and a new awareness came over his face. As far away as Carmine seemed to be now, Lenny tensed, realizing, oh, God, he's figured it out. Don't say it, please don't say it!

But Laverne finally let go of him and took a shaky step back, her eyes locked onto his face. Lenny knew it was too much, too late. He'd been way too obvious. "Len, are you...you're jealous? Of me?"

Squiggy looked quickly between the two of them and forced a laugh. "Ha. Ha, ha! That's...so funny. Lenny, jealous of Laverne. Ha!"

"Except it isn't funny," said Carmine. He folded his arms and nodded knowingly. "Wow, so when did this start?"

"I gotta go." Lenny rubbed his neck and reached for the door. The knob seemed awfully far away, like he was groping for it through a narrow tunnel that kept getting longer.

"Whoa, steady there." Squiggy had grabbed him, was holding him up. He really didn't want to be up anymore.

"Len? What's wrong? Squiggy, tell me what's wrong with him?" Laverne's voice, distant but filled with concerned. It gave him a brief thrill, knowing that she at least sounded like she cared.

That thought kept him company as he fell forward into blackness.

*

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry! I didn't know...how could I?"

"Well, maybe you should've asked first, abused later, Sir Punch-a-lot!"

Lenny vaguely recognized the voices arguing somewhere above him. He wished they'd shut up so he could go back to sleep. Then he heard another familiar voice; a woman, sobbing softly. One of the other voices - was that Carmine - murmured soothing words to her.

What's everyone doing in my bedroom? Lenny wondered. Were Squig and I havin' a sleepover?

Slowly, it all came back to him and he realized with a start that he wasn't safely tucked into his own bed, having awakened from a bad dream about bursting into Laverne's apartment and making a total jackass of himself. That had happened.

Still - why was everything so dark now?

Lenny reached up and rubbed his eyes. Oh, right. They're closed. He blinked until they stayed open, and strained to get them to focus again.

He was lying on Laverne's sofa, his feet elevated against the armrest and a throw pillow tucked under his head. It was actually pretty comfy. Squiggy was hovering over him with a look of such worry that Lenny immediately felt sorry for putting it there. The little guy had a damp washcloth in his hand and he patted Lenny's face with it. "Hey, are you back?" he asked. "Oh, thank baby Jesus. I thought you dropped dead. Why'd you have to go and scare me like that?" He swatted Lenny's cheek with the cloth. "You're so inconsiderate sometimes!"

"Sorry." His voice sounded shaky and thin. Lenny cleared his throat and tried again. "What, ah, just happened?"

"You passed out," said Carmine. He let go of Laverne, who stood on the opposite side of the coffee table with her arms wrapped around herself and her head bowed, so that her hair hung over her face. Lenny saw her shoulders hitch and realized that she was crying.

"Oh. Oh, no, Laverne." Guilt tugged at his heart. "I'm sorry, Vernie. Please don't cry. I shouldn't of said all that stuff to you. It was mean and wrong."

"That isn't why she's upset." Carmine looked down at him somberly. To Lenny's surprise, the Big Ragoo's eyes were glassy, as if he, too, were on the verge of tears.

That's when it hit him. Lenny shifted until he was half-leaning against the sofa and turned his head to face Squiggy. "You told them."

Squiggy didn't meet his eyes. He frowned and stared at something on the ceiling. "I, um, may have said something related to your situation."

"Squig!" Lenny sat up straighter, but that made the room tilt again. He held his head and groaned, "You promised. How could you ignore my," he almost said dying wishes, but didn't want to remind everyone of his condition, "what I wanted?"

"How could this be happening?" Laverne's voice was higher-pitched than normal. She raked her fingers through her hair and he saw her face was red, puffy and tear-streaked. It broke his heart, but, at the same time, gave him hope. She does feel something for me!
"I dunno," he said. "It kind of stinks, though, don't it?" He forced a little laugh.

"Yeah. It really does," said Carmine. He turned away and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Lenny pressed his lips together tightly. Then he said, "I'm really sorry about this morning. I didn't mean what I said." He considered his words and then added, "Well, not most of them. I was just...I'm kind of angry, is all. Things are not turning out as I planned."

"Six months," whispered Laverne, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Her beautiful emerald eyes. "That's so short. That's...nothing."

"It doesn't have to be nothing," said Lenny. "It could be everything, so long as I live every minute of it. And I'd like to do that. I...well, I wanted to do it with you." He picked at a loose thread on the couch. "But I get it. Just because my life is changing don't mean yours is, too. You're already with someone. That doesn't go away just because I'm sick."

"You're wrong," said Carmine. He cleared his throat and hastily wiped his eyes before turning to face Lenny again. "Laverne's not with me, Len."

"Oh." Lenny processed his words. "Wait, what?"

"Huh?" Squiggy cocked his head to the side. "But what about...you know. Breakfast?"

"That's all it was," said Carmine with a shrug. "I ran out of Wheaties upstairs. Laverne gave me a key after Shirl left, in case of emergencies or shortage of breakfast options. I'd only been here, like, ten minutes before you two came barging in to accuse us of carrying on."

Lenny's heart beat faster and he swung his legs over the edge of the couch so he could sit like a man. At least the room had stopped whirling. "So, what was with all the 'it's none of your business' business?"

"It wasn't. Isn't," said Laverne. She sniffled and rubbed her eyes, leaving a ring of smeared mascara behind. "You big dummy."

"We just didn't appreciate the two of you hollering at us like we'd have anything to be ashamed of if we were up to something," said Carmine.

"Which we're not," Laverne reiterated.

"We're just friends, like we've always been." Carmine gave Laverne a warm smile. "Right?"

She managed a weak grin in return. "Right."

"Wow." Lenny scrubbed his face with his hands then let them drop into his lap. "I was a total butthead to both of you for nothin' at all, then."

"Right-o." Carmine drew closer. "I shouldn't have gotten rough with you because of it, though. You're right about me being kind of a bully sometimes. I guess it's been harder to shake off my high school self than I thought." He stuck out his hand. "I'm really sorry if I hurt you, Len."

Lenny took his hand and shook it. "At least you let me keep my lunch money this time."

Carmine smiled. "I'm a real sport." He let go of Lenny's hand. "I've really got to go. I have an audition in a half an hour." He shrugged on his satin blue jacket and walked over to the door, but paused before opening it and looked back at Lenny. "I'm really sorry this is happening to you. If there's anything else I can do, just let me know, okay? I mean it, Len." He exchanged a look with Laverne that Lenny couldn't quite read. "Anything."

For just a minute there, Lenny had forgotten that he was dying. The sad expression on Carmine's face, the sincerity in his voice, brought it right back, slamming into him like a freight train. "Thanks, Carmine. I really appreciate it."

Carmine glanced at Laverne again. "I hope so."

Laverne smiled at him and gave a little wave. "See ya later, Carmine." He nodded and left without another word.

Well, that was kind of weird, Lenny thought, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. Then Laverne sat down next to him and he forgot all about Carmine. "How are you feeling now?" she asked, resting a hand on his forehead.

It sure felt nice, but this was exactly what he hadn't wanted. "I don't want you worryin' all over me, Laverne," he said. "I know you're concerned, 'cause you're a nice person, but I think if everyone worries over me all the time for the next six months, I'll lose my entire mind. Hence my desire to keep my condition private." He gave Squiggy a pointed look.

Squiggy threw his hands in the air. "Yeah, well, then you shouldn't have up and fainted in front of everyone. What was I supposed to say, you had the vapors?"

"It's okay," said Laverne, before he could answer. "I get it, Len. Don't worry, I won't pester you with questions and all. I just...I want this to be the best six months, or however long you've got, possible."

"See, me too." We're so in synch sometimes! Lenny took her hand. "And that's why I really came here this morning. Not to pick a fight, but to ask you...um, to tell you...."

This is harder than I thought. As motivated as he was, he could still hardly find the words. After all this time, loving her from afar, here was the moment of truth. Nothing to lose but any shot at their being together ever. He found it difficult to make his mouth form proper words. "What I mean is, since you're free and I'm free, and it wouldn't be a long commitment on your part."

She winced and he shook his head hard. Not the right approach. He tried again. "What I'm tryin' to do is ask you if you'd do me the honor of maybe going on a date with me. A real one, with flowers and dinner, and a movie. We don't even have to make out after so's you can thank me!"

This made her roll her eyes. Squiggy muttered, "Now, now, don't be so hasty."

Lenny ignored him. "Anyway, Laverne, would that be cool by you? One little date and we see where it goes from there, if anywhere. Okay? Maybe?" He stared at her and, if he'd had a tail, he'd have wagged it.

She smiled and stroked the side of his face. He closed his eyes and basked in her closeness. "Yeah, Lenny. Sure I'll go out on a date with you."

An odd squeaking sound came from behind him. Lenny turned and looked over his shoulder at Squiggy. The little guy's eyes were screwed shut and he had both hands clasped under his chin. "This is so romantical!" he breathed. "It's like Romeo and Juliet, except only one of you gets to die in the end."

Lenny sagged, his head down. Yeah, there was still that. But then Laverne's head was pressing against his shoulder and her arm was across his chest, holding him, and suddenly a little thing like a foreshortened life didn't matter quite so much, after all.



--END PART 1--

To Part 2