Fic: Witness Protection, part 13/??
Title: Witness Protection, part 13/?
Fandom: Parks and Recreation
Characters/Ships: Ben/Leslie, Chris/Ann, Andy/April, Ben/Pawnee, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 3,500
Summary: When corporate whistleblowers Ben Adams and Chris Robinson barely escape an attempt on their lives, they gladly accept the protection of the Federal Witness Protection program. What they don't count on is being sent to a city that feels more like something out of a movie or a sitcom than real life: Pawnee Indiana. An AU starting in "Master Plan."
Author's Notes: Sorry for the longer than anticipated break between chapters-I got rather carried away with my Behind Closed Doors fic, and that set back the schedule a little. I hope to update more regularly, now. *fingers crossed* I'm also trying an experiment. Instead of really long chapters with infrequent updates, I think I'll try posting shorter chapters more frequently. Let's see if this works. (I'm honestly starting to think that this is the fic that will never end. We're at a year since I put up the first chapter and the end is still a ways out.) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
Ben woke up slowly, a mild headache disturbing him from his slumber. He fought to ignore it for as long as he could stand before reaching up to massage his forehead. After a moment he opened his eyes and tilted his head to look over at the other side of the bed.
Leslie was gone.
According to the clock on her nightstand, it was only 5:49. He'd heard she didn't sleep much. Now he had proof.
He sighed and massaged his forehead again. So, how many new and exciting ways could he find to screw things up even worse, today?
He hated to think about spending the night with Leslie as a screw-up. Because, at the time, it had felt pretty amazing. Exactly what he'd needed. Exactly what he'd been longing for. But now, in the cold light of day, he had to deal with the consequences.
He'd just slept with his best friend in Pawnee under false pretenses and he had no idea whether or not he could-or should-tell her the truth.
Crap. Now his headache was getting worse.
He switched on the bedside lamp and fumbled to his feet. He managed to find his shorts on the ground and pulled them on before stumbling to the bathroom to relieve himself. After a moment of leaning on the counter with his eyes closed against the bright light, he splashed some cold water on his face. He shook his head a little and took in the sight of her personal effects artlessly scattered around the counter and shelves. His breath caught in his throat a little as the scent of her shampoo washed over him and he found himself longing wistfully to spend more time here. To make last night the first of many. But how could he, with a clear conscious?
His weary, haggard face stared back at him from the mirror. What did she even see in him? At moments like this, he had no idea.
"Ben?"
He heard Leslie's muted voice drifting in from the bedroom. He cleared his throat and pushed his hair back from his face one more time before leaning out of the bathroom. "Hey."
Her smile immediately brightened the dim room. "Hey, you," she replied. "I thought I heard you moving around up here."
She sounded far too cheery for this hour of the morning. She deposited a loose bundle of clothes onto the bed and held out a mug. "I brought you some coffee. I tried not to make it too sweet. I know you don't like that."
"Thanks," he replied, feeling slightly self-conscious as he crossed the room clad only in his shorts. Apparently it was easier to not worry about his body when he was in a drunken guilt-and-lust filled haze then it was the morning after.
The coffee felt good going down and it was only slightly sweeter than he would have made it himself. Leslie was really getting the hang of it. On his second sip he sank back down to the bed. "Thanks. This is just what I needed."
"Good," said Leslie, sitting down beside him. She was wearing sweat pants and a tank top, and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. It was the most casual that Ben had ever seen her, and he felt another pang of longing. Why couldn't he have this? Why couldn't he just be a normal guy with a normal life who could fall for someone and have her fall back? Had he screwed up big time in another life, or something, and this was karma coming back to bite him?
Of course, he couldn't say any of that to Leslie, so instead he said, "You were up early."
"Yeah." She nodded. "I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind."
Ben sighed. He knew the feeling.
"But getting up early did give me the time to do some helpful research," she continued.
He raised an eyebrow. Of course she did research when she had insomnia.
She picked up a stack of printed papers and waved them at him. "I found all your flight options for Indianapolis to Minneapolis. The first flight leaves at 7:08, so that's one's out already. And what's up with the weird departure times for flights, anyway? You'd think they could at least leave on a tenth, right? Anyway, I debated whether or not to organize them by price or by departure time, but I decided that you probably aren't thinking about pinching pennies that much right now, because what really matters is seeing your mom. So I stuck with departure time …"
Ben's other eyebrow shot up as she continued to speak and his heart leapt in his chest. She'd done all this for him. She'd spent hours on it.
"… and this stack is the rental car rates. Hertz has a special on sub-compacts right now, which is your best bet for both rental cost and gas-mileage," she rambled on, waving another sheaf of paper.
She boggled his mind. Every little thing she did revealed a new, amazing aspect of her character. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of Leslie Knope.
He cut her off mid-sentence (something about baggage-check fees) by pulling her in for a kiss.
She gasped in surprise, but quickly shifted to kiss him back. The whole process was a little awkward, with a sheaf of papers in one of her hands and a half-full coffee mug in one of his. But it was also tender and sincere and real.
No. He'd never get tired of this.
That thought was enough to make his heart ache. God, his life sucked.
When they finally parted, all he could think to say was, "Thank you." He blinked and stammered, "For-for-everything. All of this." He gestured to her stacks of papers, but he hoped she knew he meant more than just that.
"You're welcome," she replied. "It was the least I could do. What really matters now is getting you home to your family. Your mom needs you."
Shit. That ache in his chest was getting worse. He nodded. "Thanks. You're right. I need to go."
"Get dressed," she said, patting the clothes she'd dropped on the bed. "I'll drive you back to your car at Sullivan's."
"Okay." He nodded. It was for the best. He needed some time away from her to get a handle on himself.
A little while later, sitting next to her in her car, he said, "I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch with the festival. But I know Chris will step up and help. He might not be your favorite person right now, but he really is good at his job. He'll do good work for you."
"I know he will," she replied. "And don’t worry about the festival. Or-or anything else, right now. Just focus on your mom."
He heard the tightness in her voice when she said, "anything else." So it seemed she was just as anxious as him about what last night might have meant. If only he had an answer for her.
When they reached his car parked on the street near Sullivan's, Leslie pulled over to let him out.
"So, uh, if you have time to call me from Partridge and let me know how things are going, I'd like to hear from you." Her voice wavered nervously. "I mean, if you want to. You don't have to, or anything."
Ben stood just outside the open door of her car, leaning down to look in at her. He hated seeing her uncertain. He hated knowing that he'd done that to her. Rationally, he knew that his "trip to Minnesota" would be the perfect chance to start pulling back from her. To prepare for a clean break. But she looked at him with so much anxious hope in her eyes.
All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and never let her go again.
"Maybe I can call you when my plane lands. And, uh, keep you updated on things. Regularly. Would that be okay?"
A smile lit up her face. "That would be great. Perfect, really. Take care of you and take care of your mom. Okay?"
"Okay."
He watched her drive away, and shook his head. He was an idiot.
What now?
***
Chris was an early riser by nature. Nothing got the day off to a better start than an invigorating run or a brisk bike ride.
This morning, however, he'd spent most of an hour pacing, debating whether or not to call the federal marshals.
Ben never came home last night.
Fear permeated Chris's chest. Had Ben done something rash, like pointing his car toward Minnesota and driving through the night? Or getting drunk and getting in a car accident? Anything could have happened. Anything at all.
He glanced at the clock again. It was just past 6:30. He'd give it until seven, and if he hadn't heard from Ben by then, he'd call the marshals.
Chris picked up his phone again and texted Ben for what must be the tenth time since he discovered his absence.
After a few more minutes of pacing, he nearly jumped out of his shoes at the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.
Ben stepped inside, looking a little worse for the wear.
"Thank god!" Chris strode toward him. "I've been worried sick. Where were you?"
Ben looked less than happy to see him. "Hi. Sorry. Uh-I went drinking. After you left, last night. And, uh, Leslie came to pick me up because I'd had a few too many to drive. Aaaand-" He looked down at the ground.
Chris knew where he was headed before he got there, but hearing it still left a hard knot in his gut.
"We, uh, went back to her place. So. That happened."
Chris took a few deep breaths to steady himself. "So-at your most emotionally vulnerable, you decided to get drunk and sleep with the woman you've been infatuated with since we first got here? And you thought this was a good idea?"
Ben scowled at him, tossing his keys onto the entry table and shrugging out of his jacket. "Of course it wasn't a good idea. But it happened. What's done is done."
Chris closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. This was all his fault. He never should have left Ben alone last night. But, as Ben said, what was done was done. Time to deal with the consequences. "I understand," he said. "I do. However, I think I need to ask a few questions. Did you tell her anything? Anything that might compromise our cover identities?"
Ben sighed, sinking down onto the sofa. "I thought you might ask that."
The knot in Chris's gut got tighter. He stood anxiously in front of Ben, fighting back the urge to do jumping jacks. "And?"
Ben ran his fingers through his hair and dodged Chris's gaze. "She knows that my mom is in a hospital in Minnesota. And that I have a married younger brother. And that I haven't been in contact with either of them for a while." Ben shook his head, and Chris started bouncing on his heels. "I made up some bullshit story about having a falling out with them about our consulting business, or something. I don't know."
Chris hopped a few times and then switched back to pacing. "If you can't even remember what you told her, how are you supposed to keep your story straight? This is bad. This is very bad."
"I think I can handle it."
Chris clenched his teeth and continued to pace. Clearly, Ben could not handle it.
Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Uh-in the interest of full disclosure, I think I need to tell you that she knows my name."
Chris skidded to a halt and slowly turned to face Ben with wide eyes. "You mean-your real name? How-what-?"
Ben sank back into the sofa. "Did I ever tell you about my history as a teen mayor?"
"What?" Chris couldn't see the relevance.
"When I was eighteen I ran for mayor in my hometown in Minnesota, and I won. I was in some national papers and magazines for it, and Leslie is a compulsive scrap-booker. She'd been interested in my story, and she'd saved some of the articles. She recognized me a couple of months ago."
Chris's knees suddenly felt weak. He sank onto the nearby loveseat. A sick feeling swirled in his gut. "You're telling me that Leslie Knope recognized you as Benjamin Adams two months ago, and you only now decided to tell me?"
What was this horrible feeling permeating his body? Did it have a name?
Ben sighed and nodded, looking a little exasperated. Not that he had any right to be. Ben was the source of the problem right now-not Chris. "Look, I knew that if I told you, you'd freak out and insist on telling Burdette and Lewis."
Ben was right on that point.
Before Chris could raise a rebuttal, Ben continued, "But we don't need to tell them. She hasn't googled me. She doesn't know anything about Everson or the trial. I screwed up as a teen mayor, and I got impeached. She thinks that the bullying and harassment from people in my hometown are the reason I changed my name and I haven't done anything to make her think otherwise. As far as she's concerned, Ben Adams ceased to exist seventeen years ago and I've been Ben Wyatt ever since. Plus, she promised not to tell anyone about my old name, and I trust her. Completely."
As Chris pondered Ben's words, it hit him-the name for the horrible feeling welling up inside of him.
Betrayal.
No matter how much they'd been through together, no matter how many times he'd promised to share all important information and to be partners in their ordeal, Ben still didn't trust Chris. He still chose not to confide in him fully. Somehow he trusted a woman he'd met a mere five months ago more than he trusted the man who'd taken the leap into the unknown with him to approach the FBI with the evidence they'd uncovered.
How had this happened? What had he done to alienate Ben so much?
"Do you," every word out of Chris's mouth intensified the sick, painful feel of betrayal, "do you want to tell her?"
Ben looked down at his hands clasped in front of him. "I do," he said softly.
Chris clenched his fists. He should call Burdette and Lewis now. This very instant. Ben had no right to make these decisions for the both of them . . .
But Ben wasn't finished. "That doesn't mean I'm going to." Ben shook his head. "As much as I want to tell her the truth, she doesn't deserve to be dragged into our mess. She shouldn't have to carry this burden."
Chris straightened his spine and fought to gain control over the sick feeling still filling his being. "At least you have some common sense left. Can you give me even one good reason why I shouldn't get on the phone right now to call the marshals?"
Ben shook his head. "I can't. I've been an idiot. I know that. I have absolutely no logical, rational reasons why we shouldn't call the marshals and arrange to leave Pawnee tomorrow." Ben met Chris's eyes with a pleading expression. "But I still don't want to leave. I was wrong, and I never should have hidden this from you. But this place-Leslie and all my other friends here-they've changed me. Right now they're more important to me than anything but my family and this-this stupid trial that's ruining both of our lives. So I'm appealing to you as a friend-please. Please, don't call the marshals. We only have one more month here. I don't expect you to be happy about it-or to forgive me for keeping things from you. But I-I guess I'm asking for mercy. Please, let me have this last month. Let me stay. Please."
Chris closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. His feelings of betrayal weren't any less, but Ben had struck a chord with his pleas. If Chris had been given a chance to spend one last month with Kelsey before having to part ways with her, he would have done almost anything for that chance. He shook his head and blinked back the moisture rising in his eyes before looking up again. "Damn it, Ben. You have to trust me. You can't hide things from me. This situation won't work if you feel like there are things you have to keep from me."
"I know this. I really do." Ben's eyes held a gleam of desperate hope. "So here's the last thing I've been keeping from you: a few months ago I mentioned something about Everson to Leslie. But just in a general-interest-news-story kind of way. She wasn't that interested and as far as I can tell, she never googled it or read up on it at all. Really. She doesn't know anything. And even if she did, she wouldn't tell anyone. That's it. That's the last thing. I swear."
Chris winced as the knot in his gut twisted a few more times. He shouldn't be doing this. He really shouldn't. "Okay."
Ben sat up straighter and raised his eyebrows. "Okay? You mean-?"
Chris nodded, letting out his breath slowly. Ben would've done the same for him, wouldn't he? "Yes. I won't make that phone call."
Ben's face lit up. "Thank you. You have no idea. Just-thank you. I promise, I won't hold anything back again. Ever."
Chris nodded, but the sick feeling inside made him doubt whether that was a promise Ben was even capable of keeping. "What are you going to do about Leslie?"
"Well," Ben took a deep breath, "she doesn't have any expectations for last night to turn into something more. And she thinks I'm leaving for the next week or so to visit my mom and help her get settled back into her house. So I think I'll take off to Indianapolis for a while. Get a hotel. Watch some movies. Go to museums. Try to unwind and relax. And I'll see if I can figure out how to move things with Leslie back into more neutral territory. I'll think of something."
Once again, Chris had trouble believing Ben's assertion. "I'll do whatever I can to help," he replied.
One thing was certain. Getting Ben out of Pawnee for a time was absolutely the right thing to do. The sooner, the better.
TBC
Part 14
Fandom: Parks and Recreation
Characters/Ships: Ben/Leslie, Chris/Ann, Andy/April, Ben/Pawnee, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 3,500
Summary: When corporate whistleblowers Ben Adams and Chris Robinson barely escape an attempt on their lives, they gladly accept the protection of the Federal Witness Protection program. What they don't count on is being sent to a city that feels more like something out of a movie or a sitcom than real life: Pawnee Indiana. An AU starting in "Master Plan."
Author's Notes: Sorry for the longer than anticipated break between chapters-I got rather carried away with my Behind Closed Doors fic, and that set back the schedule a little. I hope to update more regularly, now. *fingers crossed* I'm also trying an experiment. Instead of really long chapters with infrequent updates, I think I'll try posting shorter chapters more frequently. Let's see if this works. (I'm honestly starting to think that this is the fic that will never end. We're at a year since I put up the first chapter and the end is still a ways out.) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
Ben woke up slowly, a mild headache disturbing him from his slumber. He fought to ignore it for as long as he could stand before reaching up to massage his forehead. After a moment he opened his eyes and tilted his head to look over at the other side of the bed.
Leslie was gone.
According to the clock on her nightstand, it was only 5:49. He'd heard she didn't sleep much. Now he had proof.
He sighed and massaged his forehead again. So, how many new and exciting ways could he find to screw things up even worse, today?
He hated to think about spending the night with Leslie as a screw-up. Because, at the time, it had felt pretty amazing. Exactly what he'd needed. Exactly what he'd been longing for. But now, in the cold light of day, he had to deal with the consequences.
He'd just slept with his best friend in Pawnee under false pretenses and he had no idea whether or not he could-or should-tell her the truth.
Crap. Now his headache was getting worse.
He switched on the bedside lamp and fumbled to his feet. He managed to find his shorts on the ground and pulled them on before stumbling to the bathroom to relieve himself. After a moment of leaning on the counter with his eyes closed against the bright light, he splashed some cold water on his face. He shook his head a little and took in the sight of her personal effects artlessly scattered around the counter and shelves. His breath caught in his throat a little as the scent of her shampoo washed over him and he found himself longing wistfully to spend more time here. To make last night the first of many. But how could he, with a clear conscious?
His weary, haggard face stared back at him from the mirror. What did she even see in him? At moments like this, he had no idea.
"Ben?"
He heard Leslie's muted voice drifting in from the bedroom. He cleared his throat and pushed his hair back from his face one more time before leaning out of the bathroom. "Hey."
Her smile immediately brightened the dim room. "Hey, you," she replied. "I thought I heard you moving around up here."
She sounded far too cheery for this hour of the morning. She deposited a loose bundle of clothes onto the bed and held out a mug. "I brought you some coffee. I tried not to make it too sweet. I know you don't like that."
"Thanks," he replied, feeling slightly self-conscious as he crossed the room clad only in his shorts. Apparently it was easier to not worry about his body when he was in a drunken guilt-and-lust filled haze then it was the morning after.
The coffee felt good going down and it was only slightly sweeter than he would have made it himself. Leslie was really getting the hang of it. On his second sip he sank back down to the bed. "Thanks. This is just what I needed."
"Good," said Leslie, sitting down beside him. She was wearing sweat pants and a tank top, and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. It was the most casual that Ben had ever seen her, and he felt another pang of longing. Why couldn't he have this? Why couldn't he just be a normal guy with a normal life who could fall for someone and have her fall back? Had he screwed up big time in another life, or something, and this was karma coming back to bite him?
Of course, he couldn't say any of that to Leslie, so instead he said, "You were up early."
"Yeah." She nodded. "I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind."
Ben sighed. He knew the feeling.
"But getting up early did give me the time to do some helpful research," she continued.
He raised an eyebrow. Of course she did research when she had insomnia.
She picked up a stack of printed papers and waved them at him. "I found all your flight options for Indianapolis to Minneapolis. The first flight leaves at 7:08, so that's one's out already. And what's up with the weird departure times for flights, anyway? You'd think they could at least leave on a tenth, right? Anyway, I debated whether or not to organize them by price or by departure time, but I decided that you probably aren't thinking about pinching pennies that much right now, because what really matters is seeing your mom. So I stuck with departure time …"
Ben's other eyebrow shot up as she continued to speak and his heart leapt in his chest. She'd done all this for him. She'd spent hours on it.
"… and this stack is the rental car rates. Hertz has a special on sub-compacts right now, which is your best bet for both rental cost and gas-mileage," she rambled on, waving another sheaf of paper.
She boggled his mind. Every little thing she did revealed a new, amazing aspect of her character. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of Leslie Knope.
He cut her off mid-sentence (something about baggage-check fees) by pulling her in for a kiss.
She gasped in surprise, but quickly shifted to kiss him back. The whole process was a little awkward, with a sheaf of papers in one of her hands and a half-full coffee mug in one of his. But it was also tender and sincere and real.
No. He'd never get tired of this.
That thought was enough to make his heart ache. God, his life sucked.
When they finally parted, all he could think to say was, "Thank you." He blinked and stammered, "For-for-everything. All of this." He gestured to her stacks of papers, but he hoped she knew he meant more than just that.
"You're welcome," she replied. "It was the least I could do. What really matters now is getting you home to your family. Your mom needs you."
Shit. That ache in his chest was getting worse. He nodded. "Thanks. You're right. I need to go."
"Get dressed," she said, patting the clothes she'd dropped on the bed. "I'll drive you back to your car at Sullivan's."
"Okay." He nodded. It was for the best. He needed some time away from her to get a handle on himself.
A little while later, sitting next to her in her car, he said, "I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch with the festival. But I know Chris will step up and help. He might not be your favorite person right now, but he really is good at his job. He'll do good work for you."
"I know he will," she replied. "And don’t worry about the festival. Or-or anything else, right now. Just focus on your mom."
He heard the tightness in her voice when she said, "anything else." So it seemed she was just as anxious as him about what last night might have meant. If only he had an answer for her.
When they reached his car parked on the street near Sullivan's, Leslie pulled over to let him out.
"So, uh, if you have time to call me from Partridge and let me know how things are going, I'd like to hear from you." Her voice wavered nervously. "I mean, if you want to. You don't have to, or anything."
Ben stood just outside the open door of her car, leaning down to look in at her. He hated seeing her uncertain. He hated knowing that he'd done that to her. Rationally, he knew that his "trip to Minnesota" would be the perfect chance to start pulling back from her. To prepare for a clean break. But she looked at him with so much anxious hope in her eyes.
All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and never let her go again.
"Maybe I can call you when my plane lands. And, uh, keep you updated on things. Regularly. Would that be okay?"
A smile lit up her face. "That would be great. Perfect, really. Take care of you and take care of your mom. Okay?"
"Okay."
He watched her drive away, and shook his head. He was an idiot.
What now?
***
Chris was an early riser by nature. Nothing got the day off to a better start than an invigorating run or a brisk bike ride.
This morning, however, he'd spent most of an hour pacing, debating whether or not to call the federal marshals.
Ben never came home last night.
Fear permeated Chris's chest. Had Ben done something rash, like pointing his car toward Minnesota and driving through the night? Or getting drunk and getting in a car accident? Anything could have happened. Anything at all.
He glanced at the clock again. It was just past 6:30. He'd give it until seven, and if he hadn't heard from Ben by then, he'd call the marshals.
Chris picked up his phone again and texted Ben for what must be the tenth time since he discovered his absence.
After a few more minutes of pacing, he nearly jumped out of his shoes at the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.
Ben stepped inside, looking a little worse for the wear.
"Thank god!" Chris strode toward him. "I've been worried sick. Where were you?"
Ben looked less than happy to see him. "Hi. Sorry. Uh-I went drinking. After you left, last night. And, uh, Leslie came to pick me up because I'd had a few too many to drive. Aaaand-" He looked down at the ground.
Chris knew where he was headed before he got there, but hearing it still left a hard knot in his gut.
"We, uh, went back to her place. So. That happened."
Chris took a few deep breaths to steady himself. "So-at your most emotionally vulnerable, you decided to get drunk and sleep with the woman you've been infatuated with since we first got here? And you thought this was a good idea?"
Ben scowled at him, tossing his keys onto the entry table and shrugging out of his jacket. "Of course it wasn't a good idea. But it happened. What's done is done."
Chris closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. This was all his fault. He never should have left Ben alone last night. But, as Ben said, what was done was done. Time to deal with the consequences. "I understand," he said. "I do. However, I think I need to ask a few questions. Did you tell her anything? Anything that might compromise our cover identities?"
Ben sighed, sinking down onto the sofa. "I thought you might ask that."
The knot in Chris's gut got tighter. He stood anxiously in front of Ben, fighting back the urge to do jumping jacks. "And?"
Ben ran his fingers through his hair and dodged Chris's gaze. "She knows that my mom is in a hospital in Minnesota. And that I have a married younger brother. And that I haven't been in contact with either of them for a while." Ben shook his head, and Chris started bouncing on his heels. "I made up some bullshit story about having a falling out with them about our consulting business, or something. I don't know."
Chris hopped a few times and then switched back to pacing. "If you can't even remember what you told her, how are you supposed to keep your story straight? This is bad. This is very bad."
"I think I can handle it."
Chris clenched his teeth and continued to pace. Clearly, Ben could not handle it.
Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Uh-in the interest of full disclosure, I think I need to tell you that she knows my name."
Chris skidded to a halt and slowly turned to face Ben with wide eyes. "You mean-your real name? How-what-?"
Ben sank back into the sofa. "Did I ever tell you about my history as a teen mayor?"
"What?" Chris couldn't see the relevance.
"When I was eighteen I ran for mayor in my hometown in Minnesota, and I won. I was in some national papers and magazines for it, and Leslie is a compulsive scrap-booker. She'd been interested in my story, and she'd saved some of the articles. She recognized me a couple of months ago."
Chris's knees suddenly felt weak. He sank onto the nearby loveseat. A sick feeling swirled in his gut. "You're telling me that Leslie Knope recognized you as Benjamin Adams two months ago, and you only now decided to tell me?"
What was this horrible feeling permeating his body? Did it have a name?
Ben sighed and nodded, looking a little exasperated. Not that he had any right to be. Ben was the source of the problem right now-not Chris. "Look, I knew that if I told you, you'd freak out and insist on telling Burdette and Lewis."
Ben was right on that point.
Before Chris could raise a rebuttal, Ben continued, "But we don't need to tell them. She hasn't googled me. She doesn't know anything about Everson or the trial. I screwed up as a teen mayor, and I got impeached. She thinks that the bullying and harassment from people in my hometown are the reason I changed my name and I haven't done anything to make her think otherwise. As far as she's concerned, Ben Adams ceased to exist seventeen years ago and I've been Ben Wyatt ever since. Plus, she promised not to tell anyone about my old name, and I trust her. Completely."
As Chris pondered Ben's words, it hit him-the name for the horrible feeling welling up inside of him.
Betrayal.
No matter how much they'd been through together, no matter how many times he'd promised to share all important information and to be partners in their ordeal, Ben still didn't trust Chris. He still chose not to confide in him fully. Somehow he trusted a woman he'd met a mere five months ago more than he trusted the man who'd taken the leap into the unknown with him to approach the FBI with the evidence they'd uncovered.
How had this happened? What had he done to alienate Ben so much?
"Do you," every word out of Chris's mouth intensified the sick, painful feel of betrayal, "do you want to tell her?"
Ben looked down at his hands clasped in front of him. "I do," he said softly.
Chris clenched his fists. He should call Burdette and Lewis now. This very instant. Ben had no right to make these decisions for the both of them . . .
But Ben wasn't finished. "That doesn't mean I'm going to." Ben shook his head. "As much as I want to tell her the truth, she doesn't deserve to be dragged into our mess. She shouldn't have to carry this burden."
Chris straightened his spine and fought to gain control over the sick feeling still filling his being. "At least you have some common sense left. Can you give me even one good reason why I shouldn't get on the phone right now to call the marshals?"
Ben shook his head. "I can't. I've been an idiot. I know that. I have absolutely no logical, rational reasons why we shouldn't call the marshals and arrange to leave Pawnee tomorrow." Ben met Chris's eyes with a pleading expression. "But I still don't want to leave. I was wrong, and I never should have hidden this from you. But this place-Leslie and all my other friends here-they've changed me. Right now they're more important to me than anything but my family and this-this stupid trial that's ruining both of our lives. So I'm appealing to you as a friend-please. Please, don't call the marshals. We only have one more month here. I don't expect you to be happy about it-or to forgive me for keeping things from you. But I-I guess I'm asking for mercy. Please, let me have this last month. Let me stay. Please."
Chris closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. His feelings of betrayal weren't any less, but Ben had struck a chord with his pleas. If Chris had been given a chance to spend one last month with Kelsey before having to part ways with her, he would have done almost anything for that chance. He shook his head and blinked back the moisture rising in his eyes before looking up again. "Damn it, Ben. You have to trust me. You can't hide things from me. This situation won't work if you feel like there are things you have to keep from me."
"I know this. I really do." Ben's eyes held a gleam of desperate hope. "So here's the last thing I've been keeping from you: a few months ago I mentioned something about Everson to Leslie. But just in a general-interest-news-story kind of way. She wasn't that interested and as far as I can tell, she never googled it or read up on it at all. Really. She doesn't know anything. And even if she did, she wouldn't tell anyone. That's it. That's the last thing. I swear."
Chris winced as the knot in his gut twisted a few more times. He shouldn't be doing this. He really shouldn't. "Okay."
Ben sat up straighter and raised his eyebrows. "Okay? You mean-?"
Chris nodded, letting out his breath slowly. Ben would've done the same for him, wouldn't he? "Yes. I won't make that phone call."
Ben's face lit up. "Thank you. You have no idea. Just-thank you. I promise, I won't hold anything back again. Ever."
Chris nodded, but the sick feeling inside made him doubt whether that was a promise Ben was even capable of keeping. "What are you going to do about Leslie?"
"Well," Ben took a deep breath, "she doesn't have any expectations for last night to turn into something more. And she thinks I'm leaving for the next week or so to visit my mom and help her get settled back into her house. So I think I'll take off to Indianapolis for a while. Get a hotel. Watch some movies. Go to museums. Try to unwind and relax. And I'll see if I can figure out how to move things with Leslie back into more neutral territory. I'll think of something."
Once again, Chris had trouble believing Ben's assertion. "I'll do whatever I can to help," he replied.
One thing was certain. Getting Ben out of Pawnee for a time was absolutely the right thing to do. The sooner, the better.
TBC
Part 14