Souvenirs
By Missy

SERIES: Souvenirs
PART: 1 of 1
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING(s): L/L
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: Songfic.
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: California Era
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Lenny is leaving, whether Laverne's ready or not.
NOTES: Now opened to a shared universe. Lyrics from the Melissa Etheridge song "You Can Sleep While I Drive." Don't belong to me, they belong to the other Melissa.

****

She leaned against the round, solid wood frame of the door, aware that she was the only thing keeping it open.

"You ain't leaving."

"Yeah." He shook his head. "I ain't got nothing to hold me down."

She studied the fingers wrapped around her bare shoulder. They were dirty from the dust of his apartment, a black curl of darkness against smooth peach-toned hands. He was wearing his good baseball jersey, and his gelled hair seemed mussed.

The fingers squeezed her nude shoulder

"Come with me."

Come on baby let's get out of this town
I got a full tank of gas with the top rolled down
There's a chill in my bones
I don't want to be left alone
So baby you can sleep while I drive

She shivered at the tone in his voice. He sounded half-desperate.

"Why?"

He draped himself across the frame of the house. "I don't got a girlfriend. Squignoski lost its last client. And I'm a virgin and I'm gonna be thirty soon. You got a better reason?"

"What about Squiggy?"

He snorted. "He's been hangin' out with Francine. Carmine's in New York, and Shirl's somewhere in England."

"And me..."

"Yeah. You're right here."

The fingers flexed again. The contact felt almost erotic.

I'll pack my bag and load up my guitar
In my pocket I'll carry my harp
I got some money I saved
Enough to get underway
And baby you can sleep while I drive

"But I got a job..."

"...For four years. It ain't getting' you nowhere."

"My Pop..."

"...Busy with Edna...."

"If you go, Len, all I'm gonna have to look forward to in the morning is Chuck."

"Yep."

"What should I pack?"

"A couple of dresses, your brush...that nice cologne stuff..."

"Underwear?"

"Underwear..." He drooled.

"Cut it out." He watched her turn around, stuffing random things into shopping bags. The first to go were the momentos from her caulk board. Then her fuzzy dice. Upstairs, she randomly threw her nicest things into a CostCo bag.

As she dumped a bottle of shampoo into the bag, she suddenly wondered how they would get money.

"Len..." She yelled. "You thought this through, right?"

"Yeah! I got four hundred bucks stashed away."

She stared at him in astonishment from around the corner. "How'd you get that much?"

"I keep it in the freezer. Squig didn't know about it."

I'll buy you glasses in Texas a hat from New Orleans
And in the morning you can tell me your dreams

She slipped down the stairs, holding two bulging bags beneath her armpits. Her football jersey wrinkled beneath the strain.

"Guess you're commin'"

"Guess I am."

"You ain't sorry already, are ya?"

"Len, you're too hard on yourself all the time."

"But you ain't sorry?"

"I'm never sorry."

He shrugged, picking up the sacks.

"I gotta leave my Pop a note."

She paused, pressing the pen to her palm, wondering what she could possibly say to her father that would carry the proper weight.

She could tell him about the cold weight of California. How being alone made it hard to get along. How she missed Shirley and the cold winters of Milwaukee. That she didn't want to be alone.

But she could only come up with 'I'll call you from for Tucson'.

The pen rolled over the desk's surface with plain finality.

"All ready?"

She smiled. "Wherever you're going." She shrugged, walking barefoot over the threshold.

My intentions are true
Won't you take me with you
And baby you can sleep while I drive

The midnight air felt thick and oppressive, as though a thunderstorm was brewing. It would be one storm that neither of them would experience.

She fit very comfortably in the passenger side seat of his car. She closed her eyes, the weight of her decision a tonic that seemed to urge her to sleep.

The engine roared beneath her ear, and she stirred when he pulled onto the street.

If you won't take me with you
I'll go before night is through
And baby you can sleep while I drive

"Go to sleep, baby." She heard him say.

Gravel crunched and houses sped by. The off-ramp approached.

She complied.


Fin

To "Fire With Fire"









(Close This Window To Return To LAS Fic)