(no subject)
title: I Spy
author: shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: G
words: 609
spoilers: Based on the episode description for Road Trip
summary: It's just her, Ben, and a blaring radio playing forgotten 70's hits. Leslie and Ben drive to Indianapolis.
Leslie's been hyper-aware of her and Ben's movements the entire two-hour ride to Indianapolis. They trade off driving, but she mentally notes every hand movement, every flicker of his eyes toward her. She's building this catalog, stowed away in the back of her mind, of silly little things during this damn car ride that suddenly seem so important.
This should be fun. It's just her, Ben, and a blaring radio playing forgotten 70's hits, and yeah, there was some goofy singing along for the first half hour, but then the station cut out for a while and there was that weird silence, and she really can't stand being in such an enclosed space with him.
She doesn't want to, but she momentarily hates Chris, who builds up rules to keep them away from each other, then throws them in a car and tells them to drive upstate. She hates him and his stupid protein pills and his frighteningly angular features and his crappy treatment of Ann and ugh, this isn't making her feel better.
The last half hour of the ride finds them playing I Spy, at Leslie's jaunty insistence. They need to do something, because she's been calculating her hand placement to avoid touching his (though it's been so, so tempting every time he's touched the gear), and she needs to get out of her own head for a while.
"I spy, with my little eye, something..." Ben squints around, hands tightening on the steering wheel. She's trying not to watch the muscles in his forearms flex, so she quickly peers in the direction he's looking. "Brown."
"That log on the side of the road, Ben," she says, frustrated. "You're supposed to make it difficult!"
"Fine, then you go!"
They've been doing this every so often - getting worked up over nothing, creating some kind of conflict to keep things on a manageable level, even if these little fights end in laughter more often than not.
"Okay, okay. I spy, with my bionic eye--," because really, saying "little" was old fashioned and not at all threatening, "-- something blue."
Ben's eyes dart around wildly, trying to pay attention to the road and his surroundings at the same time. Leslie smiles to herself, because he looks so frantic, so eager to please her, but eventually it hurts more than gives her butterflies, and she has to look away.
"Um, is it a car?" he asks, unsure.
"It was a bird," Leslie says, chuckling to herself. "A little blue jay. It flew away, though."
"That's not fair; it has to be something I can actually find!"
He's so intently irritated that she can't help but burst out in laughter, the kind that shakes her whole body and she has to clutch her stomach while the seat belt strains against her shoulder.
"It's just I Spy!" she chokes out, touching his wrist before she can over think it. "It's not the end of the world."
"In my defense, with you, it's hard to tell." He glances at her hand before returning his focus on the road, shaking his head.
She forgets to move her hand and suddenly feels his fingers lazily thread through hers, resting between their seats. And she starts, moves to detach herself, because this particular line hasn't really been crossed, but when she looks at him, his eyes are on the road and the only giveaway that anything is different is the tiny smile playing on the corners of his mouth.
She sits back in her seat and grips back, because there are some things that Chris can't reach; some things have to be just theirs.
author: shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: G
words: 609
spoilers: Based on the episode description for Road Trip
summary: It's just her, Ben, and a blaring radio playing forgotten 70's hits. Leslie and Ben drive to Indianapolis.
Leslie's been hyper-aware of her and Ben's movements the entire two-hour ride to Indianapolis. They trade off driving, but she mentally notes every hand movement, every flicker of his eyes toward her. She's building this catalog, stowed away in the back of her mind, of silly little things during this damn car ride that suddenly seem so important.
This should be fun. It's just her, Ben, and a blaring radio playing forgotten 70's hits, and yeah, there was some goofy singing along for the first half hour, but then the station cut out for a while and there was that weird silence, and she really can't stand being in such an enclosed space with him.
She doesn't want to, but she momentarily hates Chris, who builds up rules to keep them away from each other, then throws them in a car and tells them to drive upstate. She hates him and his stupid protein pills and his frighteningly angular features and his crappy treatment of Ann and ugh, this isn't making her feel better.
The last half hour of the ride finds them playing I Spy, at Leslie's jaunty insistence. They need to do something, because she's been calculating her hand placement to avoid touching his (though it's been so, so tempting every time he's touched the gear), and she needs to get out of her own head for a while.
"I spy, with my little eye, something..." Ben squints around, hands tightening on the steering wheel. She's trying not to watch the muscles in his forearms flex, so she quickly peers in the direction he's looking. "Brown."
"That log on the side of the road, Ben," she says, frustrated. "You're supposed to make it difficult!"
"Fine, then you go!"
They've been doing this every so often - getting worked up over nothing, creating some kind of conflict to keep things on a manageable level, even if these little fights end in laughter more often than not.
"Okay, okay. I spy, with my bionic eye--," because really, saying "little" was old fashioned and not at all threatening, "-- something blue."
Ben's eyes dart around wildly, trying to pay attention to the road and his surroundings at the same time. Leslie smiles to herself, because he looks so frantic, so eager to please her, but eventually it hurts more than gives her butterflies, and she has to look away.
"Um, is it a car?" he asks, unsure.
"It was a bird," Leslie says, chuckling to herself. "A little blue jay. It flew away, though."
"That's not fair; it has to be something I can actually find!"
He's so intently irritated that she can't help but burst out in laughter, the kind that shakes her whole body and she has to clutch her stomach while the seat belt strains against her shoulder.
"It's just I Spy!" she chokes out, touching his wrist before she can over think it. "It's not the end of the world."
"In my defense, with you, it's hard to tell." He glances at her hand before returning his focus on the road, shaking his head.
She forgets to move her hand and suddenly feels his fingers lazily thread through hers, resting between their seats. And she starts, moves to detach herself, because this particular line hasn't really been crossed, but when she looks at him, his eyes are on the road and the only giveaway that anything is different is the tiny smile playing on the corners of his mouth.
She sits back in her seat and grips back, because there are some things that Chris can't reach; some things have to be just theirs.