Stay with me, go places
Fandom: Parks and Rec, for century_fox
Title: Stay with me, go places
Word count: apx. 1250
Characters: April Ludgate, Ben Wyatt/Leslie Knope
Warnings: Spoilers. Smoochin’
Author's notes: Under the cut
Author's notes: This is for you, century_fox, in response to your prompt for Ben/Leslie: Come head on, full circle/Our path blocked but sure we'll/Make records, then set them/Make copies, win races/Stay with me, go places. I know you like April a lot, so I put her in here. There’s a lot of canon stuff I forgot and some eps I haven’t seen, so I hope this is fitting within canon? I did, at least, catch the most recent ep, so there’s that? Merry Christmas, Cinna! xoxo I hope you like it! :) (another side note: this is unbetaed because I’m running around everywhere today, so I hope you’ll forgive the errors I’m sure are in here). The prompt post for Christmas fic is here! The title is from Go Places by The New Pornographers.
++++++++++++++++++++
Leslie startles as April fumes into her office, arms flailing in dramatic outrage.
“Your boyfriend needs to get a job, or a life, or both,” April states, conviction in her words as she slams her hand down on Leslie’s desk.
“Slow down, April. Let’s t -”
“--NO! I’m sick and tired of this,” she interrupts. Leslie nods, used to this by now. One of those times the actress in April flares up and explodes like a can of confetti, only less happy. Leslie prepares herself, dons her gay apparel (like the song’s advice!) in the form of a smile.
“He keeps sending anonymous faxes to you about secret Christmas present hints and the machine keeps beeping until I remove the paper from the tray.”
“April, that’s your job”
“That is NOT specifically stated in my job description,” April says, laying a paper down on the desk, and it looks to Leslie like April has actually brought with her a job description, containing a highlighted section says “To collect and send business-related faxes.”
“Did you just write this right now?”
“No!”
“And how long has he been doing this?”
“For the last hour.”
“How many have you received?”
“ONE,” April says, “What is this? Some kind of interrogation? Some kind of stampede on my rights as a U.S. citizen in the worst town in the world?”
Leslie gasps, covering her mouth and giving April the death glare she usually reserves for Greg Pikitis.
“April, Pawnee is the b--”
“--This nonsense must stop!”
Leslie takes a deep breath. April’s voice is starting to sound like Janet Snakehole’s, so Leslie knows she not half as serious as she wishes to be perceived.
“How do you know it’s Ben if it’s anonymous?”
“Because the return stamp is the fax number for the dinky all-in-one printer he set up in our apartment.”
“Oh.” Leslie smiles, trying not to laugh at April’s animosity. The girl gets downright nauseated by any romantic gesture not directed at her, but Leslie’s anxiously waiting to see what’s on the paper. She tries a new approach. “On a scale from 1-10, how much has he annoyed you since he resigned?”
“One thousand three hundred and eighty six.”
“I see.” Leslie nods very seriously. “So this is… a dire situation here.”
“Very . It was only one thousand three hundred and eighty when he had a job.”
“Let me see the Santa note.”
“NO! You don’t want to see.”
“I do.”
“Save your eyes, Leslie. The burn!”
Leslie struggles with April until she snags the paper and has the fax in her hand.
What makes the Christmas alphabet different from the regular alphabet?
Leslie scrolls down to the bottom of the page.
The Christmas alphabet has Noel!
Leslie smiles. “This is supposed to be a hint about a Christmas gift?” she asks April. She can’t wait to tackle the puzzle and make a list about all the possibilities.
“Maybe he’s getting you a dictionary. Or alphabet soup.” April says dryly. “It’d be more romantic if he decapitated heads out of magazine clippings, formed them into letters, and composed you a message to look like a ransom note.”
“NO, April. That would not be better.” Leslie sighs, but she’s already dreaming in possibilities.
April leaves the office sort of shrugging, and Leslie would normally care, but she can’t stop thinking about what he might be hinting at in this super-secret fax. Maybe he’s getting her those letter magnets and she could spell out cute notes to him on the fridge! Or maybe he’s getting her a necklace with the letter L for... Luscious.
No, Lovely.
Or Luminous, like her yellow hair.
Or Leslie.
Yeah, if he does that it would probably stand for Leslie, what is she even thinking?
Leslie reads the note again and can’t wipe the grin off her face.
Obviously she and April have different definitions of annoying behavior.
++++++++++++++++++++
Leslie dusts a light layer of snow off a Colorado spruce. He watches her as she looks at the tree dreamily, as though each branch and needled somehow contain the essence of the season.
“This is the one!” she says, eying it up and down.
“You like that one?”
“Don’t you? It’s clearly the best.”
“Agreed,” he says, although it looks, to him, exactly like all the other spruces, just a little bit more plump, maybe? A little more bluish than some of the...greener ones?
“Only thing is I’m not sure why they call it a Colorado Spruce when it can grow in Pawnee, Indiana,” she says.
When he sees that she’s totally serious about this, he takes on an expression of equal parts concern and sarcasm. “Do you think this is something you can overlook?”
“Well. I can try. But that’s like…calling a Sweetums lollipop a…. Cincinnati lollipop!
“Or a Cincinnati sucker, if you want it to sound cooler.”
“What? What’s that?”
“It’s another word for lollipop. You’ve never heard that?”
She shakes her head, eying him sternly. “That’s very disrespectful to the deliciousness of lollipops, Ben.”
“Okay. Do you want this one then, even though it’s supposed to be from Colorado?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” she says. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
He nods, watching the way she rubs her gloved hands together as she looks over at him. “It’s beautiful,” he repeats, looking more at her than the tree.
“Great!” she exclaims. “Then let’s tie it to the roof, bring it to my place, and then go get waffles and that delicious spiced coffee they sell at Pancake Man.”
“Woah woah woah.”
“You don’t want waffles!?” Leslie’s eyes go wide.
“No. I mean. Yes. But. We’re taking this to your place?”
She pauses. “Won’t April and Andy destroy it if it’s at yours?”
He furrows his brow, thinking it over for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right.” He takes her hand, looking her in the eye. “But if it’s at your place, I won’t be able to enjoy it all the time.”
Leslie gasps. “Ben Wyatt. Are you saying you want to move in with me?”
“What? ! No!” He pauses, studying the way her face is reddening, embarrassment over her own tendency to cutely blurt out the first thing that comes to her mind. “Wait,” he backtracks. “If that had been what I was asking would your answer have been a yes?”
“What?” she says. She looks around, all over and up at the sky, fumbling out words like rapid fire. “Who? No. What? I don’t know. Who said that?” She pulls her not-ringing phone out of her pocket and answers it. “Who’s there? What?!”
He gently moves his hand towards hers, reassuring, and removes the phone from her fingers. He hangs it up.
“This is embarrassing,” she whispers.
“No,” he says, meeting her eyes. “What if, now that I’ve thought about it, I am asking?”
“Are you?”
“Well. Yeah. I mean, basically I live there most of the time anyway. I mean. We might as well. Soon we’ll get married and-”
“--Stop right there,” she says, her eyes widening as she puts her hand over his mouth. “Move in with me then.”
He kisses her, nodding in the process. Their noses squish together and she laughs into his mouth.
Later, as they’re tying the tree to the roof of his Honda Accord, he has another thought. “We’ll have to figure something out for April and Andy, so they can afford to live on their own.”
Her eyes are star-filled when they meet his. She looks…touched. “I’m pretty sure they have the best, most thoughtful accountant in the world,” she says.
Ben smiles, biting his lip to suppress what his hometown of Partridge, Minnesota had dubbed The World’s Dorkiest Mayoral Grin.
Title: Stay with me, go places
Word count: apx. 1250
Characters: April Ludgate, Ben Wyatt/Leslie Knope
Warnings: Spoilers. Smoochin’
Author's notes: Under the cut
Author's notes: This is for you, century_fox, in response to your prompt for Ben/Leslie: Come head on, full circle/Our path blocked but sure we'll/Make records, then set them/Make copies, win races/Stay with me, go places. I know you like April a lot, so I put her in here. There’s a lot of canon stuff I forgot and some eps I haven’t seen, so I hope this is fitting within canon? I did, at least, catch the most recent ep, so there’s that? Merry Christmas, Cinna! xoxo I hope you like it! :) (another side note: this is unbetaed because I’m running around everywhere today, so I hope you’ll forgive the errors I’m sure are in here). The prompt post for Christmas fic is here! The title is from Go Places by The New Pornographers.
++++++++++++++++++++
Leslie startles as April fumes into her office, arms flailing in dramatic outrage.
“Your boyfriend needs to get a job, or a life, or both,” April states, conviction in her words as she slams her hand down on Leslie’s desk.
“Slow down, April. Let’s t -”
“--NO! I’m sick and tired of this,” she interrupts. Leslie nods, used to this by now. One of those times the actress in April flares up and explodes like a can of confetti, only less happy. Leslie prepares herself, dons her gay apparel (like the song’s advice!) in the form of a smile.
“He keeps sending anonymous faxes to you about secret Christmas present hints and the machine keeps beeping until I remove the paper from the tray.”
“April, that’s your job”
“That is NOT specifically stated in my job description,” April says, laying a paper down on the desk, and it looks to Leslie like April has actually brought with her a job description, containing a highlighted section says “To collect and send business-related faxes.”
“Did you just write this right now?”
“No!”
“And how long has he been doing this?”
“For the last hour.”
“How many have you received?”
“ONE,” April says, “What is this? Some kind of interrogation? Some kind of stampede on my rights as a U.S. citizen in the worst town in the world?”
Leslie gasps, covering her mouth and giving April the death glare she usually reserves for Greg Pikitis.
“April, Pawnee is the b--”
“--This nonsense must stop!”
Leslie takes a deep breath. April’s voice is starting to sound like Janet Snakehole’s, so Leslie knows she not half as serious as she wishes to be perceived.
“How do you know it’s Ben if it’s anonymous?”
“Because the return stamp is the fax number for the dinky all-in-one printer he set up in our apartment.”
“Oh.” Leslie smiles, trying not to laugh at April’s animosity. The girl gets downright nauseated by any romantic gesture not directed at her, but Leslie’s anxiously waiting to see what’s on the paper. She tries a new approach. “On a scale from 1-10, how much has he annoyed you since he resigned?”
“One thousand three hundred and eighty six.”
“I see.” Leslie nods very seriously. “So this is… a dire situation here.”
“Very . It was only one thousand three hundred and eighty when he had a job.”
“Let me see the Santa note.”
“NO! You don’t want to see.”
“I do.”
“Save your eyes, Leslie. The burn!”
Leslie struggles with April until she snags the paper and has the fax in her hand.
What makes the Christmas alphabet different from the regular alphabet?
Leslie scrolls down to the bottom of the page.
The Christmas alphabet has Noel!
Leslie smiles. “This is supposed to be a hint about a Christmas gift?” she asks April. She can’t wait to tackle the puzzle and make a list about all the possibilities.
“Maybe he’s getting you a dictionary. Or alphabet soup.” April says dryly. “It’d be more romantic if he decapitated heads out of magazine clippings, formed them into letters, and composed you a message to look like a ransom note.”
“NO, April. That would not be better.” Leslie sighs, but she’s already dreaming in possibilities.
April leaves the office sort of shrugging, and Leslie would normally care, but she can’t stop thinking about what he might be hinting at in this super-secret fax. Maybe he’s getting her those letter magnets and she could spell out cute notes to him on the fridge! Or maybe he’s getting her a necklace with the letter L for... Luscious.
No, Lovely.
Or Luminous, like her yellow hair.
Or Leslie.
Yeah, if he does that it would probably stand for Leslie, what is she even thinking?
Leslie reads the note again and can’t wipe the grin off her face.
Obviously she and April have different definitions of annoying behavior.
++++++++++++++++++++
Leslie dusts a light layer of snow off a Colorado spruce. He watches her as she looks at the tree dreamily, as though each branch and needled somehow contain the essence of the season.
“This is the one!” she says, eying it up and down.
“You like that one?”
“Don’t you? It’s clearly the best.”
“Agreed,” he says, although it looks, to him, exactly like all the other spruces, just a little bit more plump, maybe? A little more bluish than some of the...greener ones?
“Only thing is I’m not sure why they call it a Colorado Spruce when it can grow in Pawnee, Indiana,” she says.
When he sees that she’s totally serious about this, he takes on an expression of equal parts concern and sarcasm. “Do you think this is something you can overlook?”
“Well. I can try. But that’s like…calling a Sweetums lollipop a…. Cincinnati lollipop!
“Or a Cincinnati sucker, if you want it to sound cooler.”
“What? What’s that?”
“It’s another word for lollipop. You’ve never heard that?”
She shakes her head, eying him sternly. “That’s very disrespectful to the deliciousness of lollipops, Ben.”
“Okay. Do you want this one then, even though it’s supposed to be from Colorado?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” she says. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
He nods, watching the way she rubs her gloved hands together as she looks over at him. “It’s beautiful,” he repeats, looking more at her than the tree.
“Great!” she exclaims. “Then let’s tie it to the roof, bring it to my place, and then go get waffles and that delicious spiced coffee they sell at Pancake Man.”
“Woah woah woah.”
“You don’t want waffles!?” Leslie’s eyes go wide.
“No. I mean. Yes. But. We’re taking this to your place?”
She pauses. “Won’t April and Andy destroy it if it’s at yours?”
He furrows his brow, thinking it over for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right.” He takes her hand, looking her in the eye. “But if it’s at your place, I won’t be able to enjoy it all the time.”
Leslie gasps. “Ben Wyatt. Are you saying you want to move in with me?”
“What? ! No!” He pauses, studying the way her face is reddening, embarrassment over her own tendency to cutely blurt out the first thing that comes to her mind. “Wait,” he backtracks. “If that had been what I was asking would your answer have been a yes?”
“What?” she says. She looks around, all over and up at the sky, fumbling out words like rapid fire. “Who? No. What? I don’t know. Who said that?” She pulls her not-ringing phone out of her pocket and answers it. “Who’s there? What?!”
He gently moves his hand towards hers, reassuring, and removes the phone from her fingers. He hangs it up.
“This is embarrassing,” she whispers.
“No,” he says, meeting her eyes. “What if, now that I’ve thought about it, I am asking?”
“Are you?”
“Well. Yeah. I mean, basically I live there most of the time anyway. I mean. We might as well. Soon we’ll get married and-”
“--Stop right there,” she says, her eyes widening as she puts her hand over his mouth. “Move in with me then.”
He kisses her, nodding in the process. Their noses squish together and she laughs into his mouth.
Later, as they’re tying the tree to the roof of his Honda Accord, he has another thought. “We’ll have to figure something out for April and Andy, so they can afford to live on their own.”
Her eyes are star-filled when they meet his. She looks…touched. “I’m pretty sure they have the best, most thoughtful accountant in the world,” she says.
Ben smiles, biting his lip to suppress what his hometown of Partridge, Minnesota had dubbed The World’s Dorkiest Mayoral Grin.