Launching - Part 1
Title: Launching - Part 1
Rating: PG13, because someone has a potty mouth.
Length: about 4000 words - both parts - LiveJournal just made me split them
Timeline/Spoilers: Unspoiled past what's already been aired, ie up to "Sex Education." Pretty much canon-compliant although arguably I've tweaked a couple of things about DC - but canon has been pretty tweakable in that regard, if you ask me.
Summary: What on earth is Ben going to do with his career? No, really, what is he going to do? Can he be happy in Pawnee now that he's been to the big show in DC? How's DC working out for him? What does Leslie think of all this?
Note/Teaser: There's a guest star! With great hair!
I don't own anything etc.
stiffleaves and missnumbat were fantastically detailed and enthusiastic and super-helpful beta readers, and rikyl and stars_inthe_sky were both absolutely genius in coming up with ideas about how this might all work. Thank you all!
Ben isn’t entirely surprised when Jen appears at his office door. It’s been a rough day trying to fix some scheduling trainwrecks and spinning a couple of boneheaded comments by the candidate himself, and she is still a ball of electricity as she rolls into his office, trailing sparks on the neutrally gray carpet.
“Jesus Christ. Jesus CHRIST. What a clusterfuck of a day. You sent me everything I need from you tonight, right? Right. I need a drink. Let’s go.”
Jen rants about the candidate all the way to the nearby bar, until they’re settled at a quiet table with a couple of drinks in front of them. “GodDAMN it, if you won’t bother reading the goddam briefing memos, why the FUCK do you comment? And at length? Give them a fucking platitude blah blah blah, and you’re outta there? Jesus! Sometimes I wish I could just run a hologram, skip the candidates altogether.”
As she looks down, giving her email a desultory scan, he says, “Jen, why don’t you run yourself?”
She barks a laugh at her phone.
“No, I’m serious. You’re smart, you’re driven, you love the game, you would do a better job than half of these jokers. Has it ever occurred to you?”
She takes a beat, still looking down, then faces him with a bit of a squint. “See, Ben, that’s the thing. I love the game. It’s a game to me. To be a real politician, to be a good one, anyhow, it can’t just be a game to you. Whatever your beliefs, you’ve at least gotta have some. Otherwise you collapse under the weight of your own bullshit.”
She takes a drink as he nods, flipping the cardboard coaster in his fingers, and then she continues, “Plus this way I get to win more often! If I run, I only get to win every, what, every four years? Two, at most? With my job I get to win at something at least once a year, and usually more often than that, your girl notwithstanding, you asshole.”
He grins.
She pulls herself all the way up, in that sudden, catlike way she has, and points her index finger at him. “Now you? You should run.”
“Very funny.” He laughs it off.
“No, seriously, you should. You give a shit. in the right way.”
He points at her drink, which was a double. “Yeah, well I think we should get you something to eat, because you’ve already had enough of that to forget who you’re talking to. There’s no way I could run. Too much baggage.”
“God, Ben, what are you talking about? Our sitting president published a book that said he did coke. His middle name is Hussein. And he ran anyhow. What are you so worried about?”
He opens his hands in front of him. “Uh, well, Jen, let’s start with the whole impeachment thing.”
“You were eighteen years old, for god’s sake! You gave it a shot, you didn’t know what you were doing, and now you know. Give me something hard next time, sheesh.” She slouches back in her chair, relishing this.
He clears his throat. “Well, how about: ‘resigned in disgrace over a sex scandal’?”
“Seriously? that’s what you think is an issue for you?
Ben flips his hands open and shrugs. “Uh, yeah, don’t you think most people would think it’s an issue?”
“Not after you’re married to her.”
He just stares blankly across at her, his hands dropping to the table.
She sits back up, gesturing to make her points as if she’s in a room full of people. “Well clearly you’re going to marry her. That’s obvious. Why not just do it right away and get it all over with? Marriage legitimizes anything, in most people’s eyes. Plus, you ran her campaign and won, against me, no less, and the backroom people will be all over that. They’ll assume you’ll have discipline as a candidate, if you’ve run a campaign, which, trust me, people still care about, at least the people with the money. You get what you pay for, so people like it when what they're paying for is what they're getting, oh, don't look at me like that, it's just a figure of speech. Plus the whole auditor thing will play well in terms of responsibility, gives you a foundation of respectability.”
Ben is still just watching her, taking it all in. He realizes he might have his mouth pursed in a weird way. He's noticed he does that when he’s thinking about something new.
She leans forward, dropping her arms and putting her palms on the table on either side of her glass. “Ben, I mean, don’t get me wrong, it wouldn’t be a cakewalk, because you’ve lived a bit of a weird little life, and there are some things people will want to talk about, by which I mean jump all over and eviscerate you for. But you could be a really exciting candidate. People love a comeback story.”
He exhales. “Well, I appreciate your interest, but I think I’m better off in the background where I’m... I’d be less of a target.”
She sits back again, folding her arms, but then extending her finger to point at him aggressively. “Bullshit. You just think that because you’ve been in the background too long. Or maybe you’re nervous to get married?” she says with a wicked grin.
This time he knows he has a weird smile on his face as he says “No. No I don’t think that’s it.”
She chuckles. “I didn’t think so. Alright, what’s next? Any other dirty laundry I can spin for you? I like this game!”
OK, a game. Now it's like a hypothetical person’s life they are discussing. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve seen some of my media footage...”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, please, I saw it all before I ever set foot in Pawnee.”
Of course she did. “Yeah, well, that would hardly help.”
“True, but that’s mostly an issue because of how your Google search results come through. Once you have more of a track record, more of a public profile, that stuff will fade into the background, it would get lost in the shuffle. I mean, it’s damaging, let’s not be naive, but you shouldn’t let it stop you."
"Let me quote myself: Who hasn't had gay thoughts? You really think that's spinnable?"
"No, not spinnable, exactly, but weatherable. What's your actual stance on gay rights? What do you fundamentally believe?" She points at him and holds her finger there. "Just between us - I won't hold you to it."
He answers without thinking. "I think gay rights are human rights. Marriage, children, the works - it's not about the gender of who you love."
"OK then. No hypocrisy to hang you on there." She drops her finger and gives an exaggerated shrug. "I could work with that, I'm just saying. Not that I'm volunteering to help you. Not that you can afford me, anyhow.” She grins.
“Well, it's moot, I'm not running for anything." Something strikes him. "Wait, you’ve been...”
“What?”
“You'd seen all of that? The Perd Hapley stuff? And you still put me in front of reporters for the campaign? Weren't you afraid I'd have some kind of psychotic episode?”
“I knew you were over it, given how you handled the media for Leslie’s campaign. You are, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
“Anyhow, if you fall apart over a little media interview on this campaign, I can always just fire you.”
He does a sideways nod, cocking an eyebrow. “That’s reassuring.”
“Isn’t it?" She reaches for the menu. "Well, it's reassuring to me. But that’s the game, baby. You’re only as good as your last soundbite. Anyhow, think about it. And now let’s order something to eat and gossip about the interns. Who’s banging whom? Never mind, I don’t care. The real question is, which one should I take to the townhall meetings in Cincy next week? I’ll need someone to get my coffee and act terrified around me. Give me one of those gorgeous girls who thinks the universe is going to get handed to them on a platter because they have good hair and their uncle is an ambassador. God, I love interns! They’re all so skittish all the time, it’s the best.”
“Except for April,” Ben remarks drily.
“Yeah. I’d fire her for not being scared of me, but the other ones are scared of her, so that can work.”
Ben muses, “It does, sometimes.”
Jen smacks his elbow. “See, Ben? You’re learning! OK, do these people know how to cook a steak, as in, bring it to me still mooing? Where's that sex-ay waiter?”
Ben rolls his eyes, smiling.
****************************
And that same night, as it happens, Ann and Leslie are out for drinks in Pawnee. They'd originally planned to rake leaves, first at Ann's and then at Leslie's, stopping in between to jump in the leaf piles, of course (because of course that's how Leslie rakes leaves), but it was pouring rain and, while Leslie was happy to rake in that weather, Ann most definitely wasn't.
So they're catching up at a nice, cozy table instead of the cool, crisp fall air. They've been talking a lot about Ann's life, which Ann appreciates, because it gives her a chance to help Leslie understand her job a bit better - always a good thing - but Ann can't help but notice that Leslie was a bit low-energy, maybe preoccupied?
Maybe it's time to nose around a little bit. She asks a little bit about Parks business, and then about City Council, and Leslie is pretty much her usual ebullient self talking about plans and people and all the usual ideas she has bubbling around. So that's not it.
With anyone else, Ann would just assume they were a bit tired, but since this is Leslie Knope, Ann keeps going with her diagnostic.
"So what do you hear from DC?"
Leslie's face falls, just a tiny bit. Aha. "Things sound good, April might actually be living up to some of her potential, and Ben is really doing great, he's getting to meet all sorts of interesting people, and getting more and more responsibility on the campaign, and his team is growing, and he's traveling more to Ohio to meet other people..."
Her voice is sounding more and more strained as she talks.
"Leslie, that sounds great..." Ann keeps her voice serious.
"It does, doesn't it?" Leslie giver her a look that has a hint of pleading in it. Please make me think it's actually great.
Ann's found the problem. Time for the nurse voice. "Leslie. What's going on?"
Leslie looks glad that she's asked, but frustrated with herself. “I don’t know, Ann, sometimes I worry...”
“About what? You guys are great together!”
“Yeah, we are... but I worry about him. What’s he going to do after this campaign?”
“Well, what could he do? If you were... say, his guidance counsellor... wait, do they have those for adults?”
“Wouldn’t that be called a life coach or something?”
“Right, a life coach. Aw, Leslie, you’d be such an awesome life coach! Maybe you can do that if you ever decide to get out of government!”
“Aw, thanks, Ann, now focus!”
“Right. OK, so, if you were Ben’s life coach, what would you tell him?”
Leslie thinks hard for a moment. “Well, I'd ask him how he likes it, and he'd tell me he loves it, and so I’d tell him that opportunities like this don’t come along too often, and that he should take full advantage of it, and that he should try to parlay it into something else, probably in DC, because after working there, what could he really do in Pawnee... and, dammit, Ann, this doesn’t really work!”
“But a good life coach would tell him that the love of his life comes along only once ever, and he shouldn’t give up on that, either.”
“Ann, you beautiful helmeted guineafowl.” What? But Leslie still looks glum. “Ann, he gave up his career for me once already. I can’t let him do it again now that he has this momentum, just come back to Pawnee, to do what exactly?”
“OK, so, what about you going to DC? Could that happen?”
“I thought about that, I really did. And I can’t see how I can do it. I just got elected to my first two-year term here, and I can’t just bail on it. Even if I wanted to. Which, if it weren’t for Ben, I wouldn’t. I mean, sure, later on, when I progress in my political career, after I've been on council for one and a half terms, and then mayor, and then state senator, and then governor, maybe, I'd love to be in Washington! But in the meantime I’m here and he’s there and there’s only so long he’s going to hold out against the Hot Rebeccas!”
Ann just rolls her eyes at that. They’ve talked about Hot Rebecca before. And they both know it really isn't about any Hot Rebecca.
Leslie turns her glass around. She speaks more quietly. “Ann, it just, it means years apart, if he does what’s best for him, and I do what’s best for me. Professionally. And, I just... I just want him around, you know? Around me. And me around him.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Leslie shrugs, looking defeated. “I don’t know.”
“Listen, Leslie, you know what, I think you will figure something out, between the two of you. Life is long, and you love each other, and you will figure out a way for that to happen in the same city.”
Leslie smiles glumly. “Yeah, I just don’t know how right now. I don’t have a plan, Ann. I need a plan! Ben and I need a plan!”
“Leslie, maybe you just need to have a bit more imagination about it. I mean, I don’t have any great plans for my life, and that’s OK. I just kind of want to muddle along and be happy.” Leslie looks at her, listening hard, brow furrowed. “But you do. You want to accomplish a lot, and so does Ben, and you’re both better together. So you’ll figure out a way. It might not be the typical way that most people do it, but you aren't most people. There’s going to be some way.”
"No, you're right. I just wish I could see how."
Poor Leslie. Usually Ann has total confidence in her ability to to find a way through a problem, but this one looks tougher than usual.
Well, she knows how to help as only a best friend can. “Another round?”
Leslie perks up. She’s at least trying to make an effort not to seem miserable. “Absolutely!”
****************************
There’s a bit of a hiss on the line, but he can’t quite tell if it’s the phone or just Jen’s mood.
“Goddamn this storm, I’m stuck in the rundown bus station they call the Cleveland airport, what a pit of despair this lounge is, this Pinot Gris is nowhere near adequately chilled, and listen, I need you to take that little press conference for me, I won’t make it back in time, I think only Raymond will be there, he’s got to have something to file and he can’t get access to the national stories so he’ll be flogging this little Ohio education thingie to the locals here, shit, who’s crying, those twins better not be on my fucking flight... OK, you got it, right? Just use the talking points you wrote for me, answer a few softballs and get outta there. Piece of cake. Gotta run, they’re calling a flight to LaGuardia and at this point I’ll take anything that will get me out of O-hi-fucking-o.”
It doesn’t quite go as Jen anticipated, though.
Afterwards, on the phone to Leslie, he describes it as an out-of-body experience. It was like he was hovering above it all, above the suddenly-ravenous Washington press corps, the A-list journalists sent to cover the news conference of a minor regional player discussing education policy. Because, while Jen was on the plane, someone brought forward evidence they’d unearthed that the Congressman had driven his sister across state lines for an abortion 25 years ago. When she was a minor.
And the Congressman, taken by surprise outside a public event, lacking a scripted response, had simply said, yes, that's true, I did. Next question?
And then, an hour later, there was Ben in the middle of the maelstrom, blinking across the room at April who looked appropriately horrified for once, wondering how long before he starts turning into a complete babbling idiot, confessing his darkest secrets to the cameras and whether there was anyplace left on earth he could hide from this, surely he’s run out of second chances, and how good are Alaska’s internet services these days, he’d consider the Australian outback if it weren’t for the damn spiders and snakes, same with Brazil, but he’s heard Chile isn’t so bad, and how many of these reporters are Spanish-speaking, maybe not so many, so that might work, but does Leslie speak Spanish? He doesn’t think so. Maybe not Chile then. He doesn’t speak Spanish, either, come to think of it. Samoa? Guam? Maybe Leslie could go diving in Guam...
It floated across his consciousness, too, how ridiculous this all was, how was this actually the national political debate, seriously? This is the big show? This crap? Come on...
And then there was that one question that somehow emerged distinctly from the cacophony, somehow making everything else fade into the background. “Mr. Wyatt, why did the Congressman even tell the truth about this?”
And that was it.
He definitely didn’t panic. He wasn’t angry, exactly, either. It was more of a quiet clarity, a deep certainty.
It was as if something was switched on inside him. Everything felt very simple.
So he opened his mouth, and started to talk into the microphones, looking at the cameras, and as he did, the room fell silent. “Look, here’s what we should all remember about the truth...” he began.
When he finished, he had no idea how long he’d been talking. He just knew in his bones he was done. He was back in his body, and, after a too-short beat of silence, he physically reeled against the roar of the reporters howling at him again, but with renewed excitement, with a different tone. Now they've got more interest in him specifically - rather than him as Random Beleaguered Campaign Spokesman, The Poor Schmuck. He’s got no idea how he actually got out of the room, but he figures April had something to do with it, and there may have been a phalanx of interns, but he’ll never know for sure, and he’s certainly not going to watch the footage any time soon.
Nobody could have predicted what happened next.
First, it hit the Ohio news outlets, albeit with a much bigger than usual splash, as part of the overall story on the Congressman’s disclosure.
But then it got picked up on Politico, and then it got to the Huffington Post and Drudge and the DailyKos and Buzzfeed and Fox News, and then it was everywhere. It wasn’t about the congressman any more - it was about Ben, and what he’d said, and it was bigger than that. It seemed to hit a groundswell of aggravation on both sides with the cynicism of the campaign, the attack ads, the politicians of all stripes who said one thing when the stakes were low and then backtracked when they had more to lose. The media seemed sick of the economic policy stories they were buried in, and used Ben as a counterpoint. Over and over again.
It was mentioned on all the major newscasts. Tom Brokaw tweeted about it, and so did Lady Gaga. Jimmy Fallon made a puppet of him (which was a surprisingly good likeness).
When Ben’s face got photoshopped onto the body of Captain America, he stopped using the Internet entirely for a day or two. Which was wise, given some of the other images that started to surface (and that Leslie totally didn’t screencap and save on her hard drive to show him later... ok, she totally did).
Although he watched with his head in his hands, the night he was on Jon Stewart he thought he’d died and gone to nerd heaven. The whole bit was a game of “Would You Rather?” pitting one equally unappealing candidate from each party (confirmed cheats, unrepentant liars, suspected felons, obvious scumbags...) against each other, each time ending with Ben being the best choice, his face stamped across theirs in triumph, Stewart saying “And this guy’s not even a candidate! He’s a campaign guy. He’s supposed to be the most cynical person on the planet, but instead he’s Ben Wyatt, folk hero!”
Ben Wyatt, folk hero. Leslie got a poster made of that.
The Congressman called him and asked, jokingly, if he was trying to build up his own profile, and told him not to move to Ohio permanently, just kidding, you should absolutely move here, just say the word and I’ll set you up with some people to meet, this will all blow over, you're doing great work, keep it up, buddy.
Ben's brother sent him daily emails summarizing the Facebook posts about it from their mutual friends. Ben threatened to block him but never did.
His grandmother sent him a card with sunflowers on it, saying that she was proud of him, which he tucked into his padfolio.
As it started to die down, Ben retained his higher public profile with the campaign, doing more media both from Washington and in Ohio. If he did an interview - on any topic - it got about 57% more hits than anyone else, including the Congressman, so it just made sense for him to stay involved.
“But let’s keep that particular little statistic our special secret, though, hmmm?” said Jen, looking over the latest poll results which, yes, showed the Congressman up as a result of the whole debacle.
HERE'S PART TWO.
****************************