Work Text:
Usually when Leslie woke up, she kind of sprang out of bed – she sat bolt upright, ramrod straight, and literally leapt out of bed. According to her mother she had always been this way, even when she was sick or sad, even when it was cold and rainy or her house was buried in snow drifts - nothing changed her routine. Today the sun was barely awake but she could already tell that is was going to be a bright and crisp day, the kind that smelled of wood fires and cinnamon, but she didn't leap out of bed. She never even sat up. She clutched the covers tightly and buried into the warmth, her mind already firing on all cylinders. She should get up; she had a full day scheduled and a to-do list that was begging to be crossed off and a present to deliver and waffles to be eaten…but it was the end of the world.
It was silly, even for Leslie to let a little thing like the Zorp crazies mess with her like this. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to do the breathing exercises that human butterfly Ann Perkins had shown her, but instead of calming her, her chest felt tighter, her breathing shallower. What if the world really was ending? What if somehow this crazy prediction came true, and this was her last day on earth, her last in Pawnee?
She would start by calling her mom, and knowing her mom that would be a short conversation – but a good one. She was very proud to be the daughter of the woman they called the Iron Cock-Shredder of Pawnee, and while her mom wasn't the most affectionate – she was kind and practical, decisive and brave. She would have morning waffles for sure, and give JJ a hug that was worthy of his talent with a waffle iron. She might work a little less frantically due to the end of the world, but she would have to do some work because, her work was meaningful and excellent and...she just really hoped there would still be work to do after the world ended.
She would visit with April and Donna, with Andy and Tom and even Jerry – and make sure to corner Ron somewhere he couldn't escape from fast, while she yelled at him about all of the great qualities he had. She would need to yell, because he would undoubtedly block his ears. If she had time she would make presents for all of these wonderful people, for her postman and her sign guy, her hairdresser, and the awkwardly tall teenager who always packed her groceries at the market with care.
She would take a walk in Harvey James Park with her very best friend and end-of-the-world partner-in-crime Ann Perkins and tell her all of her very best compliments that she had been saving up, and apologise for not spending her final hours with her. She would take care to find a bright red dress, and to do her hair down, with thick curls. She would spend time on her eyeliner – and actually get it even. She would choose her shoes carefully, because as Ann would point out, an end of the world outfit is important too. And when she was ready she would find him – in his house or his office, it didn't matter.
She knew the confused smile that would filter over his face. She knew his eyes would rake appreciatively over her before finally meeting hers, bewildered. Maybe her hands would shake with nerves but her intent would be strong and brave, her voice clear when she told him that if the world was ending, she wanted to be with him.
He would get it straight away she knew, and open his arms wide so she could step into him, and she would finally, finally bury her face in his neck again, and reach up to run her fingers through his ridiculously great hair. She would know already that when their lips met they wouldn't notice when the ground shook, and the wind blew fiercely. They wouldn't be scared of it all ending, as they wrapped themselves around each other and the lights first flickered and then went off. They wouldn't hear the groans of the buildings around them as their foundations began to crack, so lost were they in their own shallow gasps.
Maybe Leslie had seen a few too many end of the world movies, but on this day when the crazy calendar wrapped and Zorp the Surveyor supposedly emerged – Leslie didn't leap out of bed. She stayed still, eyes closed tight and began to cry.