Fire With Fire
By: Cheshyre
Title: Fire With Fire (1/1)
Fandom: LAS
Pairing: mention of Squiggy/Francine
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own it. I don't make money off of it. I just use it to make other people happy. Suing me will only get you action figures.
Notes: Part of the "Souvenirs" Universe. Lyrics are from "Stranger Things Have Happened" by Peter Tork.
Warnings: Caffeine makes you hyper.
"So, ya just up and leave like that, not telling me where you were goin' or nothin'."
"Squig, it's not that simple-"
"Sure it is!"
Lenny sighed into the phone.
He was standing in some phone booth in some gas station in some town on some highway trying his best to explain to his best friend why he'd left him behind. And, Squiggy was doing his best to not make it easy for him.
"I just had to get out of there," Lenny tried. "There was nothing for me there."
"So, now you're calling me nothing! Some friend you are, Lenny Kosnoski!" Squiggy seethed.
"I ain't callin' ya nothin'!" Lenny yelled back. "Ya got Francine! I didn't have anyone!"
"Well, ya got Laverne now. Soon as ya get a girl, ya ditch me!"
"That's not what happened!"
Who says it's impossible
Maybe it's just hard to get
But, if I were the last man on Earth
I would not relent
"Oh no? It's just a coincidence that Laverne is with ya? Just a coincidence that you both left the same night? Just happened to run into her on the way outta town, huh?"
Lenny didn't reply.
"You're showin' your true colors now, Kosnoski. Soon as you see an opportunity, ya run from me. Just like everyone else!"
"Squig-"
Squiggy slammed the phone down, hanging up on Lenny.
"I'll show him," he grumbled, stalking into the bedroom.
He started pulling random clothing items out of the drawers and the closet and throwing them into a pile on the bed.
Oh, and maybe I know better
But I'll fight fire with fire
Crawling half way under the bed, he grabbed his bag and reemerged, dust bunnies clinging to his favorite purple shirt. Without even bothering to brush them off, he started stuffing what he'd thrown onto the bed into the bag.
He raided the bathroom for some random toiletry items, throwing them into the bag as well. With one hasty look around the room, he zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder.
On his way to the front door, Squiggy kicked over a large potted plant and produced a wad of money from the dirt. Four hundred bucks that Lenny didn't know about.
Stuffing it into his front pocket, he opened the door, but stopped short.
Francine.
The crime of the century
Has just been solved tonight
Squiggy shut the door and hastily backtracked to the kitchen. Rummaging in drawers a minute, he came up with a pen and piece of paper. He quickly scribbled Francine a note. Something about being better off without him or some such. He wasn't even sure what he wrote. At least he was good enough to leave HER a note. He'd drop it in her mailbox on the way to the bus station.
Four hundred bucks was bound to be enough to get him where he was going.
Oh, the long march is beginning
And, the river shows the way
Sitting on a bus, forehead pressed to the cool glass, Squiggy watched the miles pass. The scenery changed and melted and blurred with color and rain and sunset and sunrise. The gentle sway of the bus and the lull of it's motor was never enough to lure Squiggy into sleep. Instead he stared out the window and let thoughts run freely through his mind, following them as far as they'd go before coming back and starting all over again.
I must be crazy
To believe in what remains
The bus slowed to a stop.
His stop.
Bleary eyed and exhausted, Squiggy retrieved his bag from he seat next to him and stumbled off the bus and started walking. He let his feet carry him, blindly walking into traffic to cross streets, oblivious to the honking horns of upset drivers barely missing him.
In his stupor, he banged into a street sign on a corner. He glanced up and read it before smiling to himself.
Knapp Street.
Squiggy was home.
To "Bury That Jewel"
To "Souvenirs"