Chapter Text
Cutaway
I believe that without the success of the Harvest Festival. Pawnee would be in such financial ruin that not even I could help.
The camera is on Ben, sitting in his office with his arms folded over his chest.
I also believe that Leslie Knope jumps into a lot of ideas without a concrete plan or realistic foresight, and that one day it will most definitely backfire.
The camera picks up a couple scenic shots of Leslie and Ben’s previous engagements.
Do I find it a little bit endearing?
Ben’s now sat with this look of annoyance on his face, a thin frown and a light scowl at the camera.
No. No I do not.
* * *
As the day unfolded, Ben Wyatt found himself engulfed in a familiar state of pent-up frustration. Buried beneath a mountainous pile of paperwork, this usual routine felt, extremely ordinary. To add fuel to the fire, Chris (ever vigilant about his colleagues' wellbeing) had embarked on a novel crusade for healthier eating habits within the office. While the intention was noble, the execution felt unnecessary. This place was resolute in their ideals, standing firm in the face of change unlike most of the places they’ve worked in the past.
It truly was a non-starter.
His demeanor reflected the tension, hands raking tirelessly through his hair while leaning heavily against the solid surface of his desk. A stray pencil fell victim to his restlessness, clattering against the wooden finish below. Thoughts of countless unchecked emails and memos weighed heavy on his conscience; amidst the chaos, a simple question lingered – what would he do when he got home?
Amidst the storm of papers around him, Ben was pulled away from his mental haze by the disjointed sound of a girl's voice cutting through the silence. His head snapped towards the source, revealing April standing unenthusiasticly in the doorway.
"Uh…"
Quickly regaining his composure, Ben straightened himself out and assumed a more professional demeanor. As April entered, he acknowledged her presence with a subtle nod before clearing his throat, preparing for what she had for him.
April, seeming almost reluctant to approach, dropped a bulky folder onto the already cluttered expanse of Ben's desk. Without missing a beat, she muttered,
"I was told to give this to you."
Her voice carried an air of indifference, yet Ben couldn't ignore the way she scrutinized him, taking in every detail of his agitated state.
"Thanks,"
He replied with a thin-lipped smile, managing to mask the irritation bubbling under the surface. April's retort only served to heighten his stress.
"Whatever. You look like trash."
Despite the bluntness of her comment, Ben found himself briefly inspired by her brash honesty. She would do well in his line of work.
"By the way you need to find somewhere else to sleep tonight."
Ben shifted and sat back in his chair, brows contorted slightly. He sort of self stun locked out of nowhere, having just asked himself what to do when he got back to the shared house he had with Andy Dwyer and his wife, April.
Clearing his throat, Ben managed to gather his thoughts enough to respond with a semblance of grace.
"Okay... What- wait, why?"
Her eye roll was met with an awkward stare from Ben, the sting of her dismissive attitude seemingly bouncing dumbly off his thick skin.
"I kind of want to like, have sex with my husband. You know? Which— that's kinda hard to do with your insomniac, workaholic self being around constantly when we have off work..."
Ben's eyes followed April’s gaze as she looked him over once more – this time with a sense of obvious disgust. A soft sigh escaped him as he reached up to run a hand down the side of his face.
"Gotcha... cool. No yeah, got it."
For a brief moment, it seemed like Ben might protest— but in the end, he merely nodded in understanding. As April turned to leave without another word, Ben watched her retreating before drawing his eyes to the folder.
His thoughts wandered as the echoes of April's harsh words faded into the silence of his office. He sat there for a moment longer, lost in contemplation before the realization set in - he had nowhere to go tonight.
And to his dismay, Leslie Knope came to mind almost immediately.
Things had been different between them lately, and Ben couldn't shake off the feeling that if he asked, she'd be more than willing to let him spend a night on her couch or something.
His thoughts drifted to their recent interactions, noting the slight absence of verbal sparring. He was accustomed to people yielding to his demands without question; and the thought of Leslie arguing back with such an immature, childlike tenacity left him both puzzled and somewhat enchanted.
After all, who would have expected such defiance from a government worker? They may clash more frequently now, but there was always that moment when Leslie would say something so absurdly ridiculous he found himself almost admiring her.
Enamored wasn't quite the right term, but he knew deep down inside he wanted to use it. There was just something undeniably appealing about her fiery spirit who dared to challenge him.
"Just doesn't feel right..."
Ben muttered softly to himself, already planning out the conversation he would soon have with Leslie.
* * *
As the afternoon wore on, Ben found himself losing track of time. By the time he finally gathered his belongings and prepared to depart, the once bustling building had fallen into an eerie quietude. The air was still with unease as he approached the still partly open door leading into the Parks Department. He carried with him a big binder that contained important documents related to his current project. His mind was filled with a mix of exhaustion and nervousness as he made his way toward Leslie's office.
Upon reaching the destination, he paused briefly at the open doorframe. There, seated behind her desk, was Leslie Knope—the woman whose presence had been occupying his thoughts throughout the day.
"Miss Knope."
He called out. Despite his efforts to maintain a firm tone, there was an undeniable hint of weariness underlying his words.
Almost immediately, Leslie head shot up from her desk, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Ben entering her space. However, this reaction wasn't one entirely borne out of happiness— rather it was more of an instinctual response to recognize an authority figure in her midst.
"Mr Calzone! Hi!"
Leslie greeted him with undisguised enthusiasm, her voice ringing out with an infectious energy that managed to reach deep within Ben's soul despite his best attempts at maintaining composure.
"Hiii…" He drawled out unceremoniously.
The nicknames were unappreciated, but if he said anything he was very aware they’d only get worse. Before he could get a word out about anything, her eyes shot to the clock on her desk and she let out a loud— extremely exaggerated gasp.
"Oh! Oh shoot! I’m so so so so late!"
As Ben's anxiety persisted, Leslie's change threw him for a loop. Her radiant smile, combined with the hurried flurry of activity as she prepared to leave, only served to make him feel brushed off.
Her realization brought about being late left a shift in the room's atmosphere as Leslie rose from her seat, her movements swift and messy.
"Late?" He questioned, the word escaping his lips in a solid, grounded stale voice. His eyes remained fixed upon Leslie, watching intently as she busied herself gathering her belongings into a big color-coded binder.
"HmHmm! Ann and I are having a girls night! Drinks and documentaries, I have an entire itinerary lined up!"
Leslie's excited ramble broke through the tension momentarily, bringing to life a vivid image of her enjoying a carefree evening with her best friend.
This made him extremely aware of his own, planless, friendless life.
"Oh. Well uhm, you see;"
He fumbled, second guessing his intended plan for coming in here. "I was actually hoping to speak with you for a second."
She paused what she was doing and focused on him, he hated when she did that. How unapologetically mindful she was of everyone when they were in the room, that kind of attentiveness made him sick.
Still, given the floor he began to explain his situation.
"You see, my current living accommodations are spotty at best. Andy and April are kicking me out for tonight and—"
Before Ben could finish his sentence, Leslie interjected with a giddy proposal that left him winded.
“Ooo! You can join Ann and I! Come hang out with us!"
Ben's expression remained neutral, hiding the internal conflict that raged within. He couldn't help but feel extremely ticked by Leslie's readiness to jump into action without even allowing him to fully articulate his predicament. Like he wasn’t just about to ask her for a simple crash on the couch, it had to become a whole thing that involved other people.
Shifting his gaze around the room, Ben found himself noticing something he hadn't paid attention to earlier – the absence of cameras. Usually, Leslie was surrounded by her team members who seemed to follow her everywhere like she was the lead character in some grand production. Now, however, it was just the two of them– an intimate situation that made him feel increasingly uncomfortable.
"Oh, right! The crew is following Chris and Ron! Asked for some alone time with Ann tonight!"
When she said this Ben felt like he was intruding. Already having made his mind up, he tightened his grip around the binder tucked under his arm and nods vigorously,
"Alright. Yeah. No, never mind. Forget I even said anything. I will just uhm- figure something else out."
The idea of being stuck in a room with Ann and Leslie was disastrous, He grew up with a Sister. He’s acutely aware of how high squeals can get between girls alongside the headaches they cause, the sleepovers he’s had to suffer through in middle school were enough for a lifetime of avoiding anything like it further.
He could just get a hotel room for tonight. It’s just one night, it really wouldn’t kill him.
"No! No, I insist!"
She said, moving to walk up to him which he responded to by stepping out of the way of the door. She smelled like an assortment of lotions and hard work. He wasn’t too sure what that smell acquainted to but it was something along the lines of freshly printed paper and coffee.
"You’re in it now! No backing down now Wyatt, or I’ll just call you a chicken."
As the blonde stepped past him he felt it, this annoyed churning in his gut at how resilient she was being.
Of course the childish jab was enough to admittedly sway his Plan B, but he still hated her for it.