Christmas Mini Fic-A-Thon
I wrote some Christmas presents for people, because I don’t know how else to show my love for this fandom. And I got some excellent prompts. Also, the last four stories (New Beginnings, Shooting, Doin’ Time, and In the Clear) take place in the same night, though all are stand-alone stories that are only loosely connected. Everything’s season four, set right around now.
stillscape: Leslie wears a sexy elf costume!
Christmas Sex, 183 words
Ben discovered pretty quickly into their relationship that Leslie had some things she liked when it came to sex.
He expected, on some level, the whipped cream in bed obsession.
He wasn’t surprised when she wanted to do historical roleplay. Though he had never even considered it before, he was a quick convert.
But he assumed that when she said she wanted to dress up in bed, she meant, oh, special underwear, or maybe-hopefully-a gold bikini.
When she showed up in her bedroom wearing-good Lord, was that a sexy elf costume?-he really was shocked. It was green and shiny, and kind of weirdly baggy in all the wrong places, and there was a pointy hat, which, what was that hat?
He wanted to tear it off of her, not even because he wanted her naked, but because he wanted to burn that costume.
He went to rip the offending satin off her-he was practically in a trance state from this costume-but when he tried to reach for her, he remembered he was handcuffed to the bed.
***
shornt: I would like Christmas themed porn please.
With Love, 542 words
Leslie Knope loved coming up with ideas. In fact, she had binders to organize her binders of ideas.
Sometimes, though, it was awesome to let someone else think things up.
Which is why, when Ben told her he had a special sexy Christmas Eve present to give her, and that it was going to be a surprise, and that she was going to let him be in charge for once, damnit, and it wasn’t going to be like every other time, she acquiesced pretty easily.
And that is how she ended up tied to her bed. But it wasn’t enough for her to be tied up, apparently. She had a velvety Santa hat on.
“I just want you to know, Leslie, that I’m in charge tonight. The only way you’re getting out of this is if you hum a verse of ‘Jingle Bells.’ It’s your safety word. And if you want me to slow down, hum ‘Let It Snow.’ Otherwise, it’s all fair game. Agreed?”
She nodded.
He smiled and pulled down the Santa hat, plunging her into darkness.
She felt his mouth on hers, briefly, perfunctory, as though he was reminding her that what was going to follow was going to be with love. Then he slapped the fleshy part of her thigh, as if to remind her that it was going to be that kind of love. Which was exactly what she craved.
He started rubbing her body, first her thighs, on the outside where he has slapped, massaging, which was making her feel all liquid-y inside. His hands were slow and firm, rubbing her again and again. Then they started moving all over her body, and they picked up speed, as if he was losing control as he went.
She could feel his erection pressed against her, and she loved that he was so turned on, that without any effort, any of that crap from Cosmo, her mere presence could making him lose control.
“You dirty girl, Leslie. You got me hard, really hard.”
She whimpered.
“Oh that’s right, you get a little greedy when I get that hard. And as much fun as it would be to tease you, I am going to give you what you want.” He started kissing her hip bone, which tickled in a way that also made her wet.
“If you wanted to, it would be great if you got me off. If you think you can,” she said, feeling a little cheeky.
“You think you’re pretty clever, eh, Leslie? You know I can get you off, from almost any angle, and once from only touching your breasts.”
“Not that I didn’t appreciate the groping, but you can’t orgasm from that alone. There’s… pulsing involved. And years of kegals during town hall meetings.”
He paused, and she knew what was coming, and she almost grinned, but she didn’t want to give away the game too soon.
“You doubt me? I can get you off. I’m going to get you off, and you’re going to come, hard.”
She was tingling with anticipation.
“But first you’re going to get me off… because I don’t like it when you doubt me.”
When she felt him enter her mouth, she didn’t even bother to hide her grin.
tbc
***
whimsical_irony: Alternately, I’d love to read about a Christmas tradition Leslie and Ann have. Bonus points if they get wasted and end up drunk-dialing Ben together. Or Chris. Or anyone really.
Free Nights and Weekends, 854 Words
“All right, we have three dozen chocolate chip cookies for April and Andy, in the snowman tin. Macaroons for Tom, and half a batch for your parents. My neighbors get snowballs, and my mother gets-“ Leslie was interrupted by a buzzer, and pulled out a pan. “Are these done?”
“I think so,” Ann said, her nose wrinkling.
“Are you sure these are… Chris eats these?”
Ann started transferring them to the cooling rack. “Yeah, I remember eating some once. They taste like… what’s a good word for bad decisions?” Ann heard Leslie spit something out in the sink, and she winced.
“Well, ok, now I know what we can give Jerry. He could stand to lose some weight, and these will put me off of food for a while, possibly forever. Ok, we still have sugar cookies in the fridge, right?”
Ann consulted the chart Leslie had made. But the footnotes were unclear, so she gave up and opened the fridge. “Yeah, sugar cookies are chilled, and we have the oatmeal raisin cookies too, and we just need to dip the peanut butter cookies in the chocolate, and then we might be done? Maybe you should check the chart?” Leslie was already on it, using her back up copy, sucking a candy cane absent-mindedly.
They finished off the cookies pretty quickly. When the last bow was placed on the last bag, they kicked back on Ann’s couch with Irish coffees and Will and Grace Christmas episodes.
“I dunno know what it is, but Karen makes me nervous,” Leslie said a few episodes (and a few Irish coffees) in. “Let’s switch. Christmas West Wing or Christmas Everwood?”
They decided on Everwood, since it was, in Leslie’s words, ‘unsung.’
Midway through the first episode, Leslie said, “We should call Ben.”
“We could do that,” Ann said, carefully. Not that she didn’t like Ben, really, but this was supposed to be about the two of them, and it’s not like they got to spend much time together these days…
“No, no, Ann, we should prank call Ben.”
“You want to spend Christmas Eve Eve prank calling your boyfriend?”
“Not just him, everyone. Come on Ann, it’ll be fun. We never prank call people anymore.”
“When did we ever prank call people?”
Leslie shrugged. “We’ve been busy. Come on, Ann, Ann, Ann, come on, come on Ann, come on-“
“Fine. But we’re going to star-six-seven this shit.” She poured a shot of whiskey for courage.
“Ooooh, yay.” Leslie grabbed her cell, swaying a little under what had to be at least five drinks worth of whiskey. She dialed a string of numbers, and then shoved the phone at Ann.
Ann’s eyes grew wide, and she tried to shove the phone back at Leslie, who ducked and giggled into Ann’s decorative couch pillow.
Someone picks up and says, “Hit me.” Ann places the voice as Donna.
“Is your refrigerator running?”
“I’m sorry, is this 1993? Don’t you have better things to do?”
Ann gasped and hung up, and she and Leslie burst into giggles. “This is why you’re so fun, Ann, just so fun.”
Preening a little under Leslie’s praise, Ann dialed, and handed the phone off to Leslie.
“Hello?” They can just barely hear over loud music in the background.
Leslie put on a sultry voice. “Hello, you sexy thing.”
“This is Tom, Tom Haverford. What can I do for you?”
“This is… Equality, down at the Glitter Factory, and you’ve won a free lapdance.”
Ann grabbed the phone, took a deep breath to get serious, and added in her bedroom voice, “Upgrade to a double for just $20.”
Leslie grabbed the phone back, “Just come down and tell the doorman you’re looking for Equality, and Justice.”
“Who is this?” Tom demanded. “You can’t possibly be the Glitter Factory, when I’m already here, and I think the Glitter Factory knows who their best customer is.”
Leslie ducked her head, shaking, and disconnected.
Ann dialed again.
“Chris Traeger!”
“Hello, Mr. Traeger, this is Sarah, manager down at the Grain ‘n’ Simple.”
“Sarah Simpson! Did your sister have her baby yet?”
“Er-well, that’s not what I’m calling about. I just wanted to let you know we are discontinuing your favorite brand of rice milk, the one in the… blue? Blue box, yeah.”
“That is literally the worst thing I have ever heard all day. Can you put some on hold for me?”
“Sure, we can set a case aside for you.”
“No, I need sixteen cases. Do you want my credit card number? It’s a Visa, 34-“
“No! Just, ask for it the next time you come in, and then I’m sure I’ll update you on my sister. Bye!” And she hung up.
Leslie took the next round, but Ron’s phone was shut off, of course. She tried Jerry instead.
“Hello, is Mr Wall there?”
“No, you have the wrong number.”
“Well, is Mrs. Wall there?”
“No, there are no Walls here.”
“Then what’s holding up your roof?” Leslie started giggling before she could disconnect, and Ann could just barely make out Jerry’s damn kids.
“Ok, what are we going to do for your boyfriend?”
“I guess we could do the Glitter Factory one again?”
But Leslie barely got through the words ‘free lapdance’ before Ben hung up.
They were in the middle of laughing when the phone rang. They both jumped, and Leslie looked at Ann, who shrugged to say, Won’t know until you answer it.
“’ello Gov’ner?” Leslie answered.
“Leslie, what are you doing? I just got a call from-I think Tom is using my name at strip clubs again. You’re his boss, tell him to stop.” Ben’s voice sounded stressed. “I just don’t need this right now. Minnesota’s just… I’m glad I’m coming home tomorrow, I miss you.”
Leslie’s voice turned warm. “I miss you too, dear-“ She glanced at Ann, who sighed and got up to refill drinks. Leslie shook her head, started snapping her fingers and pointed at Ann’s seat. “-but I’m hanging out with Ann, which is so great. I’ll see you tomorrow, we’ll talk then. Love you too.”
She hung up, and looked at Ann, a smile on her face. “Ok, West Wing… or do April and Andy need to ‘pick up their dry cleaning’?”
***
craponaspatula: I would take whatever you give me, but if you want a specific prompt, here is one idea: Leslie always peeks at her presents. Ben anticipates this, because of course he does, and plans accordingly.
Smooth, 332 words
Leslie can’t believe what she found.
Apparently, her Christmas gifts are the worst.
Or… maybe they aren’t her Christmas gifts? Maybe Ben bought them for his brother? Wait, no, that would be worse. These aren’t acceptable gifts for your girlfriend, but they are truly unacceptable gifts for your brother.
And the terrible part was that she can’t confront Ben about them. He’ll pull out that Minnesota upbringing and point out that she shouldn’t be disappointed, in the sense that she shouldn’t have been snooping. Which, of course she shouldn’t have been, but first Christmas gifts are important, and symbolic, and Ann suggested she should snoop. Well, maybe not suggested, exactly, but-
There’s a loud noise, and she shoves everything back in his closet just as Ben enters the room. She covers with an easy Heeeey honey because she’s smooth. Like silk. Or peanut butter with the safety seal removed.
“You’re up to something,” Ben says, his eyes searching her face. “But what?”
“Absolutely nothing, clearly.”
“You didn’t find that gift box in my closet, did you?”
He gives her a smirk, and she realizes she’s been had. “I should have guessed. You weren’t going to give me a ball gag, or a giant novelty condom, or fuzzy handcuffs. And this… fingerpainted birdhouse? That’s… I don’t get why you’d do that.”
“The birdhouse is from my nephew for his aunt Leslie-he’s excited to meet you next week-and the condom is for Tom, because he made some hurtful assertions about things you have never complained about.”
“He’s wrong, you’re exactly the right size,” Leslie said automatically. “And tilting to the left is actually a good thing.”
“Thanks. The handcuffs and ballgag are a reminder that you aren’t supposed to look for your present, Leslie. Besides, I would never be foolish enough to hide your present where I live, that’s the first place you’d look.”
“Drat.”
He got a gleam in his eye, “Of course, now that I know you’ve been really bad…
***
Rikyl: If you have time, could I have a Tom/Ann ficlet for christmas please? Perhaps he tries to get her under the mistletoe or kiss her at midnight on New Year's Eve or something. She does not have to allow it even, because that would hardly be believable at this point. But if you're so inclined, you can make it as dirty as you want. (Handcuffs? What are you writing? I want to see all of it!)
Quiet Time, 491 words
The New Year’s Eve party was raging, but Ann needed a minute. She grabbed her coat and slipped outside. The night was crisp but not freezing, and it felt good to get out of the crush of revelers.
She leaned up against the alley wall, and closed her eyes.
“Heeeey cupcake.”
And that had to be Tom. She opened her eyes, sighed. “Now is quiet time, Tom. You want to grab some wall, you’re welcome to, but shhhhh.” She closed her eyes, and heard the slight squish of Tom’s coat as he leaned back against the brick.
They stayed quiet, listening to slight pounding of club music over the wind.
Keeping her eyes shut, she said, “You know, I just wonder what it is I’ve done with 2011. I mean, really, Tom.”
“Yeah, you only got a job in a recession and dated a bunch of- I’ll go ahead and say it- hot guys. Not nearly as full of swagger as, say, me, but almost as good.”
“One of them was a surgeon.”
“Scalpel jockey.”
“Right.”
“You did all sorts of good stuff. You made that diabetes video, and they’re showing that in schools, to children, so you can stop them from turning into unbangable adults. That’s huge.
“Yeah,” she said, opening her eyes and turning towards him. “You’re right, and that was my idea, too.”
“Don’t feel bad, Ann, you did all sorts of great things. And at least you didn’t run a company into the ground.” Tom looked the way he always did when he talked about E720, like he’d left the house without smooth-talking himself in the mirror first.
“Tom, yeah, you failed. You failed pretty hard. In fact, you failed hard at something for really stupid reasons-“
“Thanks?”
“But at least you tried. How many of those idiots in the Snakehole tonight do you think tried the way you did? You failed, but you failed big, and that’s way cooler than working in some cubicle forever.”
Tom’s face lit up again, gradually, and she could see that transform him. Added an inch to his height and a confidence to his fist pump. “You’re right. Thanks Ann.” He looked at his watch. “Oh shit, we’re fourteen seconds from midnight.”
“Are you sure?”
“This watch was very expensive. Kanye owns one and he’s basically the Jason Wu of owning watches.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“And it’s nine, eight, seven, six…”
Ann contemplated her next step.
“Three, two, one.”
And she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. He wasn’t prepared, and she ended up a little off center. When he looked at her, shocked, she wasn’t sure what to say-wasn’t sure what had possessed her, other than that he really was a nice guy, maybe in a few years he would be a real human being-and so she smiled, wished him a happy New Year, and turned the corner to go back inside.
***
isalsayourface: Okay, if you have time, here's a fic request! Ben/Leslie, ice skating, Ben is really good at it (hello, Ice Town!) and Leslie is competitive...emergency room visit maybe? And making out at some point! Can be any timeline, relationship established already or not. Maybe Ben's first winter in Pawnee? (This is my first fic request, so I hope that's enough info, or maybe it's too much!) :D Thanks! This is an awesome idea!
Shoot to Win, 595 Words
“You’re good, Wyatt, I’ll give you that, but I did field hockey in high school, and anything you can do, I can do on tiny swords.”
“I did actual hockey, Knope, and I’m going to kick your ass up and down this rink.”
“Will you love birds stop your squawking and play ball? Or puck? Whatever, everyone knows the only cool part about hockey is the zambonis.” Tom tossed the puck in the air, and Leslie darted in, stick in hand. She shot it to her nearest open teammate, but April started texting, so Chris zipped in and shot it down the field at Jerry. Jerry, who didn’t have a stick, aimed his broom carefully, completely missing the puck and slipping on the ice.
“Damn it, Jerry,” Donna hollered, and Harris shot the puck to Natalie, who was surprisingly engaged by the whole thing, and she shot it at Andy, who leapt at the speeding puck but overshot, and crashed while the puck sailed past him into the goal.
“And that’s a point for the Cady Stantons.” Tom declared, having been poked by Ann until he stopped playing Angry Birds.
Leslie stuck out her tongue at Ben, whose eyes narrowed.
Ben ended up scoring the next point, with an assist from Ben, that ex of April’s, who looked pretty excited until his boyfriend shook his head slightly, and he adopted his cool expression again.
Leslie was actually pretty impressed, but he was a Tiger, so.... “I guess that was ok, but I could’ve done better.”
“Really,” her boyfriend said, raising on eyebrow.
“I could beat you at almost anything. I bet I can ice skate faster than you.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Pawnee has far fewer days below freezing than does Partridge. Facts are facts, Leslie, I just have more practice.”
“Fine, let’s call a time-out and race.”
“Everyone knows that you’re only allowed a single thirty-second time out per-“
“Tom, we need a time-out, and we’re taking a long one.”
“What now?” Tom asked, “I’m trying to order shoes.”
“Clear the rink! Ben and I are racing. Winner takes all.”
“Takes all what?”
“Glory.”
Donna waved her red scarf, and the two of them took off, racing from one goal post to the other.
And, damn it, Leslie was going to lose. She took off a moment later than Ben, and he was really good.
“I’m going to win, Knope!”
“And I’m going to… flash everyone!” She blurted out. What?
“What?” Ben echoed her thoughts, and he turned around and CRUNCH! flew into the goal.
Leslie started shrieking, “ANN! ANN ANN ANN!” as she skated to Ben (taking only a moment to note that apparently she could skate faster, apparently, when given a really good motivation). Ann was already there, checking for broken bones and death, presumably.
“Ann, Ann, is he going to be alright?”
“Leslie, calm down, let go, I can’t do this if you’re doing that to my arm,” Ann said, annoyingly calm.
“Ben, can you hear me?”
“Yes, I’m fine, I know next year’s an election year and everything. But my ankle…” he hissed when Ann touched it.
“I’m guessing a sprain,” Ann said, wobbling as she stood up.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Leslie said, over and over, kissing his hands.
Ben gave her a tired smile. “Look, Leslie, my ankle’s going to heal-“
She cringed, and kissed his hands again.
And then he got a gleam in his eye. “But I’m going to know forever that this only happened because I’m a faster skater than you.”
***
Rebeccavis: This poor deprived Chris/Ann shipper would love to read something cute with them - perhaps New Year's Eve related? :)
New Beginnings, 369 words.
The problem with going to a party on New Years Eve, Ann reflected, was that sometimes you ended up drinking. And in the course of drinking, you agreed to do some things that were perhaps not a great idea. Like, for instance, oh, let’s say, agree to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with all your single friends.
Tom was MCing the game, pulling out names and sending temporary couples into their mini-honeymoons in the janitor’s closet. As she watched rumpled people exit, sobriety started to shine through the clouds in her brain, and it occurred to her that she was not making good life choices, and maybe she should go get some coffee and talk to Leslie and not play this game.
“Ann Perkins!” Tom said, announcer voice on, “And… oh look at this, who could have guessed? Tom Haverford.”
Ann stood up and grabbed the slip of paper. “Tom, you liar, it says… Chris Traeger.” She gulped. She hadn’t been alone with him since their break-up, at least not janitor’s closet alone, but she let the crowd push her in.
They were on opposite sides of the room, Ann with her arms folded, and Chris with one hand in a pocket. They were silent for a moment.
“Ann Perkins, I am delighted to end up with you in here, or anywhere really.”
“Chris, this is. You have a girlfriend.”
Chris looked down, touched the back of his neck. “Actually, I do not. She wasn’t-there’s a point in life where you realize that you want something deeper, and you can’t just have superficial relationships anymore. Do you know what I am saying?”
“I might have some idea.” Ann smiled, uncrossed her arms. “I came to some conclusions about myself, too. I can’t do relationships like I’ve done before. I’m Ann Perkins, and I’m special, damn it.”
“You’re phenomenal, in fact.”
“And amazing.”
“Agreed.” He took a step closer, and she did too.
“Chris?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever just want to do something… rash and crazy?”
“Only when I see you,” he said, touching her shoulder.
She reached up, touched his jaw, and decided that, even though it wasn’t 2012 yet, it was the perfect time for a new beginning.
***
ashisfriendly: At the Holiday fest on leslie-ben, I wanted a drunk!Ben NYE fun times fic with some fluff! :D
Shooting, 254 words
At least he wasn’t one of those drunken idiots playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.
Ben didn’t have much at this point, but at least he had that.
Well, that, and the makings of a future wicked hangover.
It had been a long year, to be fair, and he was glad to just be kicking back.
Which is why, apparently, he was sitting with April, shooting Snakejuice.
April clinked her shotglass with his, slammed hers back, and banged it on the table.
“Whatever, dude, I could drink you under a table.”
“I think you don’t realize how much I partied in college.”
“Twice a semester, and begrudgingly.”
He winced at her. “Well, fine, but I’m not a lightweight.”
“Sure you aren’t, that’s why you’re blinking so much.” Both Aprils smirked at him, and it occurred to him he should probably order a water. And a coffee. And a time machine. “Leslie’s not going to like you like this.”
“Leslie loves me, so shut up, Roomie.”
April’s face softened ever so slightly, the way it did when she thought no one could see her watching The Parent Trap. “Glad you idiots figured that out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it means we get to fuck on the couch ‘cause you aren’t home.”
“Right.” Ben looked down a table of bad decisions and wondered where he could get some aspirin. Ann had to be around here somewhere, right?
“And it’s nice that she’s smiling with her eyes again.”
Ben glanced at April, and though she grimaced at him, he grinned.
***
lunalunita: I hope it's okay to submit a prompt even though I'm a lurker. Here goes: Spending New Year's Eve is jail is about as fun as it sounds. Ben/Jean-Ralphio preferred (because your other story with them is awesome), but any characters, pairings, or groupings are fine, too!
Doin’ Time, 469 words
“I really might kill you.” Ben looked at his hands, flexed them.
“Whoa, J-Bird, I get that you’re mad, and in a way, I’m the one that got us into this-“
“Would that way be the actual way it happened?” Could he actually punch a guy?
“But in another sense, you’re at fault.”
“All right, let’s hear it, why am I at fault?” The last time he punched a guy was high school, and that hadn’t gone well, but Jean-Ralphio was not Mark Eckhart, that guy barely had a neck.
“If you didn’t get all skittish, I could have laid it on nice and smooth, and they would’ve let us go. Maybe thrown us a parade, just a little one. Sixteen floats. Cheerleaders from the community college.”
“What planet-“
Jean-Ralphio was really getting into it, waving his arms around. “But no, you go up to them, crunk on my man’s Snakejuice, get all nervous, and start babbling, and then just when we might have been let go you start telling them that you’re unemployed because you debauched Leslie Knope- and not that you shouldn’t have, because if I could hit that I would be, nightly-and during the day, too, you know it-but what were you thinking?”
Ben really wished he could have gotten some aspirin before getting thrown in here. “I was thinking I could reason with him, like adults.”
“No one is reasonable when it comes to that woman. Let me tell you, if she asked me to, I would, in public, go ahead and put my-“
“Stop!”
“Heart on my sleeve.”
Ben leans back against the wall. “Right.”
“And my penis on her-“
“Can you just maybe use this as an opportunity to consider what you’re doing with your life? I mean, we’re in here another two hours, minimum, while they process our paperwork, so maybe use this as some time for quiet reflection.”
“Negatory, J-Bird. I’m going to use this time to think about how to spin this in my autobiography.”
“You’re writing a book? About yourself? Who would read that?”
“No, only nerds write. I’m going to get one of those ghostwriters. I’ll be too busy with my rap career to care about sentences other than this is how we do it. Besides, all rappers do a stint in prison; it’s where verses come from.”
“I’m sure they all do time in Wamapoke County Jail for double parking.”
“I also haven’t paid a parking ticket since bumble and bumble brought back their texture crème.”
Ben turned to him, excited. “You use Bb too?”
“I knew we were bro-mates! Give me five long ones, right here”
“Wait, do you use a diffuser? Because I-by which I mean my roommates broke mine last month and I just can’t…”
***
whimsical_irony: Am I too late to request something? Damn my not being at my computer all day for once. Assuming it’s not too late, I’d love it if you wrote something involving Dave and Ben…[ ] make it awkward. What do Ben and Dave each know about Leslie that other doesn’t?
In the Clear, 603 Words
“Yeah, that’s the one. I’m springing for that hardened criminal right there.”
“Ann? What are you doing here? Where’s Leslie?”
“Hi Ben. Leslie had to be at the Senior Center first thing, so she texted me, so even though the sun’s barely up, and even though I have somewhere I’d rather be-“ she touched her neck and blushed a little, but there was no time to get into that-“And besides, I’m basically an expert at getting people out of the slammer.” She looked around, took in the depressing scene. “Eagleton’s jail was much better, don’t tell Leslie.”
“Yeah, that’s a conversation I was hoping to have,” Ben said, looking tired.
“Where’s your partner in crime?”
“Tom picked him up. You might be wondering did he weep and the answer is yes, all over my shirt.” He frowned. “And this is my favorite shirt, too.”
“Come on, you have some paperwork to fill out.”
And when Ann saw who was filling out that paperwork, she choked on her coffee.
“Dave, I didn’t realize you were back, welcome back, I had no idea.” Ann babbled, sprinting around the desk to throw her arms around him. He didn’t hug back, but he allowed the hug, blushing. “Remember me? Ann Perkins, Leslie’s friend.”
“Yes, ma’am, of course I remember you. How’s Leslie?”
“Leslie’s great! She’s-“ It was then that it occurred to Ann to see how Ben was taking this, and the answer was that he looked a little confused-“She’s running for city council-“
“Like her hero Madeline Albright.” Dave threw in.
“Right, like her-“
“Madeline Albright was never elected to an office,” Ben said, his face tight, and Ann suddenly realize he knew.
“Well then. Anyway, Leslie’s running for office, and resurrected Harvest Fest, did you hear?”
“That’s wonderful-”
Ben cut Dave off. “Yeah, it was awesome. I was so glad I got to help her.” He stuck his hand out, and Dave shook it. “I’m Ben Wyatt, Leslie’s boyfriend.”
Dave’s eye’s narrowed. “Right. The chief mentioned she was dating a pervert. And a drunk, apparently. Weren’t you her employee or something?”
It was Ben’s turn to blush. “We’re in the clear to date… now.”
“If there’s one thing Leslie hates, it’s men who are on the wrong side of the law.”
“Actually, if there’s one thing Leslie hates, it’s invasive media attent-“
Ann decided it was time to step in. “Actually, if there’s anything Leslie hates, it’s unnecessary conflict. And cranberry sauce.”
Dave mumbled “And cleaning out her keyboard.” at the same time Ben sighed, “Also recycling old newspapers, even though The New York Times is archived online.”
Ann grit her teeth. She really didn’t want to be doing this, although she also did not want to be running Leslie’s water aerobics class either. “It costs money to access anything before 1986. Now. Shake. Hands.”
They both looked at their feet but did so.
“Great!” Ann chirped. “Glad we resolved that. Now, Ben, let’s go. I still haven’t gotten to sleep yet.”
“Let Leslie know I’m back in town, will ya?” Dave asked.
Ann smiled. “Of course, Dave, great to see you.”
“And let her know, if she needs any help on her campaign, or she needs security, tell her to give me a call. The number’s the same.”
“9-1-1?” Ben said, looking weary.
“Actually, you shouldn’t call that with non-emergency questions. The direct number is-“
“I’m sure she’s got all of those in her phone.” Ann said, tugging at Ben’s hand. “Happy New Year, Dave.”
“Nice to see you, Ann-and stay out of trouble, Ben.”
***
stillscape: Leslie wears a sexy elf costume!
Christmas Sex, 183 words
Ben discovered pretty quickly into their relationship that Leslie had some things she liked when it came to sex.
He expected, on some level, the whipped cream in bed obsession.
He wasn’t surprised when she wanted to do historical roleplay. Though he had never even considered it before, he was a quick convert.
But he assumed that when she said she wanted to dress up in bed, she meant, oh, special underwear, or maybe-hopefully-a gold bikini.
When she showed up in her bedroom wearing-good Lord, was that a sexy elf costume?-he really was shocked. It was green and shiny, and kind of weirdly baggy in all the wrong places, and there was a pointy hat, which, what was that hat?
He wanted to tear it off of her, not even because he wanted her naked, but because he wanted to burn that costume.
He went to rip the offending satin off her-he was practically in a trance state from this costume-but when he tried to reach for her, he remembered he was handcuffed to the bed.
***
shornt: I would like Christmas themed porn please.
With Love, 542 words
Leslie Knope loved coming up with ideas. In fact, she had binders to organize her binders of ideas.
Sometimes, though, it was awesome to let someone else think things up.
Which is why, when Ben told her he had a special sexy Christmas Eve present to give her, and that it was going to be a surprise, and that she was going to let him be in charge for once, damnit, and it wasn’t going to be like every other time, she acquiesced pretty easily.
And that is how she ended up tied to her bed. But it wasn’t enough for her to be tied up, apparently. She had a velvety Santa hat on.
“I just want you to know, Leslie, that I’m in charge tonight. The only way you’re getting out of this is if you hum a verse of ‘Jingle Bells.’ It’s your safety word. And if you want me to slow down, hum ‘Let It Snow.’ Otherwise, it’s all fair game. Agreed?”
She nodded.
He smiled and pulled down the Santa hat, plunging her into darkness.
She felt his mouth on hers, briefly, perfunctory, as though he was reminding her that what was going to follow was going to be with love. Then he slapped the fleshy part of her thigh, as if to remind her that it was going to be that kind of love. Which was exactly what she craved.
He started rubbing her body, first her thighs, on the outside where he has slapped, massaging, which was making her feel all liquid-y inside. His hands were slow and firm, rubbing her again and again. Then they started moving all over her body, and they picked up speed, as if he was losing control as he went.
She could feel his erection pressed against her, and she loved that he was so turned on, that without any effort, any of that crap from Cosmo, her mere presence could making him lose control.
“You dirty girl, Leslie. You got me hard, really hard.”
She whimpered.
“Oh that’s right, you get a little greedy when I get that hard. And as much fun as it would be to tease you, I am going to give you what you want.” He started kissing her hip bone, which tickled in a way that also made her wet.
“If you wanted to, it would be great if you got me off. If you think you can,” she said, feeling a little cheeky.
“You think you’re pretty clever, eh, Leslie? You know I can get you off, from almost any angle, and once from only touching your breasts.”
“Not that I didn’t appreciate the groping, but you can’t orgasm from that alone. There’s… pulsing involved. And years of kegals during town hall meetings.”
He paused, and she knew what was coming, and she almost grinned, but she didn’t want to give away the game too soon.
“You doubt me? I can get you off. I’m going to get you off, and you’re going to come, hard.”
She was tingling with anticipation.
“But first you’re going to get me off… because I don’t like it when you doubt me.”
When she felt him enter her mouth, she didn’t even bother to hide her grin.
tbc
***
whimsical_irony: Alternately, I’d love to read about a Christmas tradition Leslie and Ann have. Bonus points if they get wasted and end up drunk-dialing Ben together. Or Chris. Or anyone really.
Free Nights and Weekends, 854 Words
“All right, we have three dozen chocolate chip cookies for April and Andy, in the snowman tin. Macaroons for Tom, and half a batch for your parents. My neighbors get snowballs, and my mother gets-“ Leslie was interrupted by a buzzer, and pulled out a pan. “Are these done?”
“I think so,” Ann said, her nose wrinkling.
“Are you sure these are… Chris eats these?”
Ann started transferring them to the cooling rack. “Yeah, I remember eating some once. They taste like… what’s a good word for bad decisions?” Ann heard Leslie spit something out in the sink, and she winced.
“Well, ok, now I know what we can give Jerry. He could stand to lose some weight, and these will put me off of food for a while, possibly forever. Ok, we still have sugar cookies in the fridge, right?”
Ann consulted the chart Leslie had made. But the footnotes were unclear, so she gave up and opened the fridge. “Yeah, sugar cookies are chilled, and we have the oatmeal raisin cookies too, and we just need to dip the peanut butter cookies in the chocolate, and then we might be done? Maybe you should check the chart?” Leslie was already on it, using her back up copy, sucking a candy cane absent-mindedly.
They finished off the cookies pretty quickly. When the last bow was placed on the last bag, they kicked back on Ann’s couch with Irish coffees and Will and Grace Christmas episodes.
“I dunno know what it is, but Karen makes me nervous,” Leslie said a few episodes (and a few Irish coffees) in. “Let’s switch. Christmas West Wing or Christmas Everwood?”
They decided on Everwood, since it was, in Leslie’s words, ‘unsung.’
Midway through the first episode, Leslie said, “We should call Ben.”
“We could do that,” Ann said, carefully. Not that she didn’t like Ben, really, but this was supposed to be about the two of them, and it’s not like they got to spend much time together these days…
“No, no, Ann, we should prank call Ben.”
“You want to spend Christmas Eve Eve prank calling your boyfriend?”
“Not just him, everyone. Come on Ann, it’ll be fun. We never prank call people anymore.”
“When did we ever prank call people?”
Leslie shrugged. “We’ve been busy. Come on, Ann, Ann, Ann, come on, come on Ann, come on-“
“Fine. But we’re going to star-six-seven this shit.” She poured a shot of whiskey for courage.
“Ooooh, yay.” Leslie grabbed her cell, swaying a little under what had to be at least five drinks worth of whiskey. She dialed a string of numbers, and then shoved the phone at Ann.
Ann’s eyes grew wide, and she tried to shove the phone back at Leslie, who ducked and giggled into Ann’s decorative couch pillow.
Someone picks up and says, “Hit me.” Ann places the voice as Donna.
“Is your refrigerator running?”
“I’m sorry, is this 1993? Don’t you have better things to do?”
Ann gasped and hung up, and she and Leslie burst into giggles. “This is why you’re so fun, Ann, just so fun.”
Preening a little under Leslie’s praise, Ann dialed, and handed the phone off to Leslie.
“Hello?” They can just barely hear over loud music in the background.
Leslie put on a sultry voice. “Hello, you sexy thing.”
“This is Tom, Tom Haverford. What can I do for you?”
“This is… Equality, down at the Glitter Factory, and you’ve won a free lapdance.”
Ann grabbed the phone, took a deep breath to get serious, and added in her bedroom voice, “Upgrade to a double for just $20.”
Leslie grabbed the phone back, “Just come down and tell the doorman you’re looking for Equality, and Justice.”
“Who is this?” Tom demanded. “You can’t possibly be the Glitter Factory, when I’m already here, and I think the Glitter Factory knows who their best customer is.”
Leslie ducked her head, shaking, and disconnected.
Ann dialed again.
“Chris Traeger!”
“Hello, Mr. Traeger, this is Sarah, manager down at the Grain ‘n’ Simple.”
“Sarah Simpson! Did your sister have her baby yet?”
“Er-well, that’s not what I’m calling about. I just wanted to let you know we are discontinuing your favorite brand of rice milk, the one in the… blue? Blue box, yeah.”
“That is literally the worst thing I have ever heard all day. Can you put some on hold for me?”
“Sure, we can set a case aside for you.”
“No, I need sixteen cases. Do you want my credit card number? It’s a Visa, 34-“
“No! Just, ask for it the next time you come in, and then I’m sure I’ll update you on my sister. Bye!” And she hung up.
Leslie took the next round, but Ron’s phone was shut off, of course. She tried Jerry instead.
“Hello, is Mr Wall there?”
“No, you have the wrong number.”
“Well, is Mrs. Wall there?”
“No, there are no Walls here.”
“Then what’s holding up your roof?” Leslie started giggling before she could disconnect, and Ann could just barely make out Jerry’s damn kids.
“Ok, what are we going to do for your boyfriend?”
“I guess we could do the Glitter Factory one again?”
But Leslie barely got through the words ‘free lapdance’ before Ben hung up.
They were in the middle of laughing when the phone rang. They both jumped, and Leslie looked at Ann, who shrugged to say, Won’t know until you answer it.
“’ello Gov’ner?” Leslie answered.
“Leslie, what are you doing? I just got a call from-I think Tom is using my name at strip clubs again. You’re his boss, tell him to stop.” Ben’s voice sounded stressed. “I just don’t need this right now. Minnesota’s just… I’m glad I’m coming home tomorrow, I miss you.”
Leslie’s voice turned warm. “I miss you too, dear-“ She glanced at Ann, who sighed and got up to refill drinks. Leslie shook her head, started snapping her fingers and pointed at Ann’s seat. “-but I’m hanging out with Ann, which is so great. I’ll see you tomorrow, we’ll talk then. Love you too.”
She hung up, and looked at Ann, a smile on her face. “Ok, West Wing… or do April and Andy need to ‘pick up their dry cleaning’?”
***
craponaspatula: I would take whatever you give me, but if you want a specific prompt, here is one idea: Leslie always peeks at her presents. Ben anticipates this, because of course he does, and plans accordingly.
Smooth, 332 words
Leslie can’t believe what she found.
Apparently, her Christmas gifts are the worst.
Or… maybe they aren’t her Christmas gifts? Maybe Ben bought them for his brother? Wait, no, that would be worse. These aren’t acceptable gifts for your girlfriend, but they are truly unacceptable gifts for your brother.
And the terrible part was that she can’t confront Ben about them. He’ll pull out that Minnesota upbringing and point out that she shouldn’t be disappointed, in the sense that she shouldn’t have been snooping. Which, of course she shouldn’t have been, but first Christmas gifts are important, and symbolic, and Ann suggested she should snoop. Well, maybe not suggested, exactly, but-
There’s a loud noise, and she shoves everything back in his closet just as Ben enters the room. She covers with an easy Heeeey honey because she’s smooth. Like silk. Or peanut butter with the safety seal removed.
“You’re up to something,” Ben says, his eyes searching her face. “But what?”
“Absolutely nothing, clearly.”
“You didn’t find that gift box in my closet, did you?”
He gives her a smirk, and she realizes she’s been had. “I should have guessed. You weren’t going to give me a ball gag, or a giant novelty condom, or fuzzy handcuffs. And this… fingerpainted birdhouse? That’s… I don’t get why you’d do that.”
“The birdhouse is from my nephew for his aunt Leslie-he’s excited to meet you next week-and the condom is for Tom, because he made some hurtful assertions about things you have never complained about.”
“He’s wrong, you’re exactly the right size,” Leslie said automatically. “And tilting to the left is actually a good thing.”
“Thanks. The handcuffs and ballgag are a reminder that you aren’t supposed to look for your present, Leslie. Besides, I would never be foolish enough to hide your present where I live, that’s the first place you’d look.”
“Drat.”
He got a gleam in his eye, “Of course, now that I know you’ve been really bad…
***
Rikyl: If you have time, could I have a Tom/Ann ficlet for christmas please? Perhaps he tries to get her under the mistletoe or kiss her at midnight on New Year's Eve or something. She does not have to allow it even, because that would hardly be believable at this point. But if you're so inclined, you can make it as dirty as you want. (Handcuffs? What are you writing? I want to see all of it!)
Quiet Time, 491 words
The New Year’s Eve party was raging, but Ann needed a minute. She grabbed her coat and slipped outside. The night was crisp but not freezing, and it felt good to get out of the crush of revelers.
She leaned up against the alley wall, and closed her eyes.
“Heeeey cupcake.”
And that had to be Tom. She opened her eyes, sighed. “Now is quiet time, Tom. You want to grab some wall, you’re welcome to, but shhhhh.” She closed her eyes, and heard the slight squish of Tom’s coat as he leaned back against the brick.
They stayed quiet, listening to slight pounding of club music over the wind.
Keeping her eyes shut, she said, “You know, I just wonder what it is I’ve done with 2011. I mean, really, Tom.”
“Yeah, you only got a job in a recession and dated a bunch of- I’ll go ahead and say it- hot guys. Not nearly as full of swagger as, say, me, but almost as good.”
“One of them was a surgeon.”
“Scalpel jockey.”
“Right.”
“You did all sorts of good stuff. You made that diabetes video, and they’re showing that in schools, to children, so you can stop them from turning into unbangable adults. That’s huge.
“Yeah,” she said, opening her eyes and turning towards him. “You’re right, and that was my idea, too.”
“Don’t feel bad, Ann, you did all sorts of great things. And at least you didn’t run a company into the ground.” Tom looked the way he always did when he talked about E720, like he’d left the house without smooth-talking himself in the mirror first.
“Tom, yeah, you failed. You failed pretty hard. In fact, you failed hard at something for really stupid reasons-“
“Thanks?”
“But at least you tried. How many of those idiots in the Snakehole tonight do you think tried the way you did? You failed, but you failed big, and that’s way cooler than working in some cubicle forever.”
Tom’s face lit up again, gradually, and she could see that transform him. Added an inch to his height and a confidence to his fist pump. “You’re right. Thanks Ann.” He looked at his watch. “Oh shit, we’re fourteen seconds from midnight.”
“Are you sure?”
“This watch was very expensive. Kanye owns one and he’s basically the Jason Wu of owning watches.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“And it’s nine, eight, seven, six…”
Ann contemplated her next step.
“Three, two, one.”
And she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. He wasn’t prepared, and she ended up a little off center. When he looked at her, shocked, she wasn’t sure what to say-wasn’t sure what had possessed her, other than that he really was a nice guy, maybe in a few years he would be a real human being-and so she smiled, wished him a happy New Year, and turned the corner to go back inside.
***
isalsayourface: Okay, if you have time, here's a fic request! Ben/Leslie, ice skating, Ben is really good at it (hello, Ice Town!) and Leslie is competitive...emergency room visit maybe? And making out at some point! Can be any timeline, relationship established already or not. Maybe Ben's first winter in Pawnee? (This is my first fic request, so I hope that's enough info, or maybe it's too much!) :D Thanks! This is an awesome idea!
Shoot to Win, 595 Words
“You’re good, Wyatt, I’ll give you that, but I did field hockey in high school, and anything you can do, I can do on tiny swords.”
“I did actual hockey, Knope, and I’m going to kick your ass up and down this rink.”
“Will you love birds stop your squawking and play ball? Or puck? Whatever, everyone knows the only cool part about hockey is the zambonis.” Tom tossed the puck in the air, and Leslie darted in, stick in hand. She shot it to her nearest open teammate, but April started texting, so Chris zipped in and shot it down the field at Jerry. Jerry, who didn’t have a stick, aimed his broom carefully, completely missing the puck and slipping on the ice.
“Damn it, Jerry,” Donna hollered, and Harris shot the puck to Natalie, who was surprisingly engaged by the whole thing, and she shot it at Andy, who leapt at the speeding puck but overshot, and crashed while the puck sailed past him into the goal.
“And that’s a point for the Cady Stantons.” Tom declared, having been poked by Ann until he stopped playing Angry Birds.
Leslie stuck out her tongue at Ben, whose eyes narrowed.
Ben ended up scoring the next point, with an assist from Ben, that ex of April’s, who looked pretty excited until his boyfriend shook his head slightly, and he adopted his cool expression again.
Leslie was actually pretty impressed, but he was a Tiger, so.... “I guess that was ok, but I could’ve done better.”
“Really,” her boyfriend said, raising on eyebrow.
“I could beat you at almost anything. I bet I can ice skate faster than you.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Pawnee has far fewer days below freezing than does Partridge. Facts are facts, Leslie, I just have more practice.”
“Fine, let’s call a time-out and race.”
“Everyone knows that you’re only allowed a single thirty-second time out per-“
“Tom, we need a time-out, and we’re taking a long one.”
“What now?” Tom asked, “I’m trying to order shoes.”
“Clear the rink! Ben and I are racing. Winner takes all.”
“Takes all what?”
“Glory.”
Donna waved her red scarf, and the two of them took off, racing from one goal post to the other.
And, damn it, Leslie was going to lose. She took off a moment later than Ben, and he was really good.
“I’m going to win, Knope!”
“And I’m going to… flash everyone!” She blurted out. What?
“What?” Ben echoed her thoughts, and he turned around and CRUNCH! flew into the goal.
Leslie started shrieking, “ANN! ANN ANN ANN!” as she skated to Ben (taking only a moment to note that apparently she could skate faster, apparently, when given a really good motivation). Ann was already there, checking for broken bones and death, presumably.
“Ann, Ann, is he going to be alright?”
“Leslie, calm down, let go, I can’t do this if you’re doing that to my arm,” Ann said, annoyingly calm.
“Ben, can you hear me?”
“Yes, I’m fine, I know next year’s an election year and everything. But my ankle…” he hissed when Ann touched it.
“I’m guessing a sprain,” Ann said, wobbling as she stood up.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Leslie said, over and over, kissing his hands.
Ben gave her a tired smile. “Look, Leslie, my ankle’s going to heal-“
She cringed, and kissed his hands again.
And then he got a gleam in his eye. “But I’m going to know forever that this only happened because I’m a faster skater than you.”
***
Rebeccavis: This poor deprived Chris/Ann shipper would love to read something cute with them - perhaps New Year's Eve related? :)
New Beginnings, 369 words.
The problem with going to a party on New Years Eve, Ann reflected, was that sometimes you ended up drinking. And in the course of drinking, you agreed to do some things that were perhaps not a great idea. Like, for instance, oh, let’s say, agree to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with all your single friends.
Tom was MCing the game, pulling out names and sending temporary couples into their mini-honeymoons in the janitor’s closet. As she watched rumpled people exit, sobriety started to shine through the clouds in her brain, and it occurred to her that she was not making good life choices, and maybe she should go get some coffee and talk to Leslie and not play this game.
“Ann Perkins!” Tom said, announcer voice on, “And… oh look at this, who could have guessed? Tom Haverford.”
Ann stood up and grabbed the slip of paper. “Tom, you liar, it says… Chris Traeger.” She gulped. She hadn’t been alone with him since their break-up, at least not janitor’s closet alone, but she let the crowd push her in.
They were on opposite sides of the room, Ann with her arms folded, and Chris with one hand in a pocket. They were silent for a moment.
“Ann Perkins, I am delighted to end up with you in here, or anywhere really.”
“Chris, this is. You have a girlfriend.”
Chris looked down, touched the back of his neck. “Actually, I do not. She wasn’t-there’s a point in life where you realize that you want something deeper, and you can’t just have superficial relationships anymore. Do you know what I am saying?”
“I might have some idea.” Ann smiled, uncrossed her arms. “I came to some conclusions about myself, too. I can’t do relationships like I’ve done before. I’m Ann Perkins, and I’m special, damn it.”
“You’re phenomenal, in fact.”
“And amazing.”
“Agreed.” He took a step closer, and she did too.
“Chris?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever just want to do something… rash and crazy?”
“Only when I see you,” he said, touching her shoulder.
She reached up, touched his jaw, and decided that, even though it wasn’t 2012 yet, it was the perfect time for a new beginning.
***
ashisfriendly: At the Holiday fest on leslie-ben, I wanted a drunk!Ben NYE fun times fic with some fluff! :D
Shooting, 254 words
At least he wasn’t one of those drunken idiots playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.
Ben didn’t have much at this point, but at least he had that.
Well, that, and the makings of a future wicked hangover.
It had been a long year, to be fair, and he was glad to just be kicking back.
Which is why, apparently, he was sitting with April, shooting Snakejuice.
April clinked her shotglass with his, slammed hers back, and banged it on the table.
“Whatever, dude, I could drink you under a table.”
“I think you don’t realize how much I partied in college.”
“Twice a semester, and begrudgingly.”
He winced at her. “Well, fine, but I’m not a lightweight.”
“Sure you aren’t, that’s why you’re blinking so much.” Both Aprils smirked at him, and it occurred to him he should probably order a water. And a coffee. And a time machine. “Leslie’s not going to like you like this.”
“Leslie loves me, so shut up, Roomie.”
April’s face softened ever so slightly, the way it did when she thought no one could see her watching The Parent Trap. “Glad you idiots figured that out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it means we get to fuck on the couch ‘cause you aren’t home.”
“Right.” Ben looked down a table of bad decisions and wondered where he could get some aspirin. Ann had to be around here somewhere, right?
“And it’s nice that she’s smiling with her eyes again.”
Ben glanced at April, and though she grimaced at him, he grinned.
***
lunalunita: I hope it's okay to submit a prompt even though I'm a lurker. Here goes: Spending New Year's Eve is jail is about as fun as it sounds. Ben/Jean-Ralphio preferred (because your other story with them is awesome), but any characters, pairings, or groupings are fine, too!
Doin’ Time, 469 words
“I really might kill you.” Ben looked at his hands, flexed them.
“Whoa, J-Bird, I get that you’re mad, and in a way, I’m the one that got us into this-“
“Would that way be the actual way it happened?” Could he actually punch a guy?
“But in another sense, you’re at fault.”
“All right, let’s hear it, why am I at fault?” The last time he punched a guy was high school, and that hadn’t gone well, but Jean-Ralphio was not Mark Eckhart, that guy barely had a neck.
“If you didn’t get all skittish, I could have laid it on nice and smooth, and they would’ve let us go. Maybe thrown us a parade, just a little one. Sixteen floats. Cheerleaders from the community college.”
“What planet-“
Jean-Ralphio was really getting into it, waving his arms around. “But no, you go up to them, crunk on my man’s Snakejuice, get all nervous, and start babbling, and then just when we might have been let go you start telling them that you’re unemployed because you debauched Leslie Knope- and not that you shouldn’t have, because if I could hit that I would be, nightly-and during the day, too, you know it-but what were you thinking?”
Ben really wished he could have gotten some aspirin before getting thrown in here. “I was thinking I could reason with him, like adults.”
“No one is reasonable when it comes to that woman. Let me tell you, if she asked me to, I would, in public, go ahead and put my-“
“Stop!”
“Heart on my sleeve.”
Ben leans back against the wall. “Right.”
“And my penis on her-“
“Can you just maybe use this as an opportunity to consider what you’re doing with your life? I mean, we’re in here another two hours, minimum, while they process our paperwork, so maybe use this as some time for quiet reflection.”
“Negatory, J-Bird. I’m going to use this time to think about how to spin this in my autobiography.”
“You’re writing a book? About yourself? Who would read that?”
“No, only nerds write. I’m going to get one of those ghostwriters. I’ll be too busy with my rap career to care about sentences other than this is how we do it. Besides, all rappers do a stint in prison; it’s where verses come from.”
“I’m sure they all do time in Wamapoke County Jail for double parking.”
“I also haven’t paid a parking ticket since bumble and bumble brought back their texture crème.”
Ben turned to him, excited. “You use Bb too?”
“I knew we were bro-mates! Give me five long ones, right here”
“Wait, do you use a diffuser? Because I-by which I mean my roommates broke mine last month and I just can’t…”
***
whimsical_irony: Am I too late to request something? Damn my not being at my computer all day for once. Assuming it’s not too late, I’d love it if you wrote something involving Dave and Ben…[ ] make it awkward. What do Ben and Dave each know about Leslie that other doesn’t?
In the Clear, 603 Words
“Yeah, that’s the one. I’m springing for that hardened criminal right there.”
“Ann? What are you doing here? Where’s Leslie?”
“Hi Ben. Leslie had to be at the Senior Center first thing, so she texted me, so even though the sun’s barely up, and even though I have somewhere I’d rather be-“ she touched her neck and blushed a little, but there was no time to get into that-“And besides, I’m basically an expert at getting people out of the slammer.” She looked around, took in the depressing scene. “Eagleton’s jail was much better, don’t tell Leslie.”
“Yeah, that’s a conversation I was hoping to have,” Ben said, looking tired.
“Where’s your partner in crime?”
“Tom picked him up. You might be wondering did he weep and the answer is yes, all over my shirt.” He frowned. “And this is my favorite shirt, too.”
“Come on, you have some paperwork to fill out.”
And when Ann saw who was filling out that paperwork, she choked on her coffee.
“Dave, I didn’t realize you were back, welcome back, I had no idea.” Ann babbled, sprinting around the desk to throw her arms around him. He didn’t hug back, but he allowed the hug, blushing. “Remember me? Ann Perkins, Leslie’s friend.”
“Yes, ma’am, of course I remember you. How’s Leslie?”
“Leslie’s great! She’s-“ It was then that it occurred to Ann to see how Ben was taking this, and the answer was that he looked a little confused-“She’s running for city council-“
“Like her hero Madeline Albright.” Dave threw in.
“Right, like her-“
“Madeline Albright was never elected to an office,” Ben said, his face tight, and Ann suddenly realize he knew.
“Well then. Anyway, Leslie’s running for office, and resurrected Harvest Fest, did you hear?”
“That’s wonderful-”
Ben cut Dave off. “Yeah, it was awesome. I was so glad I got to help her.” He stuck his hand out, and Dave shook it. “I’m Ben Wyatt, Leslie’s boyfriend.”
Dave’s eye’s narrowed. “Right. The chief mentioned she was dating a pervert. And a drunk, apparently. Weren’t you her employee or something?”
It was Ben’s turn to blush. “We’re in the clear to date… now.”
“If there’s one thing Leslie hates, it’s men who are on the wrong side of the law.”
“Actually, if there’s one thing Leslie hates, it’s invasive media attent-“
Ann decided it was time to step in. “Actually, if there’s anything Leslie hates, it’s unnecessary conflict. And cranberry sauce.”
Dave mumbled “And cleaning out her keyboard.” at the same time Ben sighed, “Also recycling old newspapers, even though The New York Times is archived online.”
Ann grit her teeth. She really didn’t want to be doing this, although she also did not want to be running Leslie’s water aerobics class either. “It costs money to access anything before 1986. Now. Shake. Hands.”
They both looked at their feet but did so.
“Great!” Ann chirped. “Glad we resolved that. Now, Ben, let’s go. I still haven’t gotten to sleep yet.”
“Let Leslie know I’m back in town, will ya?” Dave asked.
Ann smiled. “Of course, Dave, great to see you.”
“And let her know, if she needs any help on her campaign, or she needs security, tell her to give me a call. The number’s the same.”
“9-1-1?” Ben said, looking weary.
“Actually, you shouldn’t call that with non-emergency questions. The direct number is-“
“I’m sure she’s got all of those in her phone.” Ann said, tugging at Ben’s hand. “Happy New Year, Dave.”
“Nice to see you, Ann-and stay out of trouble, Ben.”
***