FIC: (Not So) Trivial Pursuits [PG]
Title: (Not So) Trivial Pursuits
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1641
Summary: Ben doesn't think much of it; he’s been to trivia games with Chris and the man is insufferable
A/N: This weird little thing is what happens when I put my senior seminar paper off. Hope you enjoy :)
The first few times Ben hears about trivia night at the new Mexican place down the road from City Hall, it’s from Chris, who plays with “the lovely Ann Perkins” every Tuesday night. Ben doesn’t think much of it; he’s been to trivia games with Chris and the man is insufferable (“Oh, don’t worry, Ben! I don’t think any less of you just because you didn’t know that!”).
But apparently it becomes a thing that Ann tells Leslie about and Leslie tells her whole department about and suddenly, everyone from Parks gets together semi-regularly to play. But, they’re not trying to expense it, so he still doesn’t think much of it.
He tries not to let it bother him too much when Chris comes in on Wednesday mornings with some “delightful” story from the night before. He would decline an invitation, anyway, if anyone ever did invite him. Still.
Once the Harvest Festival gets closer, the trivia nights stop. Then Chris and Ann break up, the Harvest Festival actually happens, and everything becomes too busy, until a few weeks after the camping trip, when Leslie announces The Knope-it-All’s are going back to their regular Tuesday night game.
He is in the room when she announces it, so she turns towards him and grins, her eyes bright, her eyebrows wiggling up and down her forehead.
“You’re coming too,” she says, in a tone that wouldn’t allow him to refuse, even if he had wanted to. So he mustered the only response he could think of.
“The Knope-it-All’s?”
***
Everyone from Parks shows up that night, plus Ann and Andy, so they are shoved to the back, to a bunch of tables haphazardly thrown together. Leslie sits in the middle, obviously the leader of the team, and Ben patiently waits for everyone else to find their seat.
Ann takes the seat to Leslie’s right, but everyone passes by the one on her left. He thinks it’s a little odd, until he suddenly realizes, as Ron stands next to him, his hand outstretched towards the open seat beside Leslie, that they had all just assumed that Ben would sit there.
He doesn’t really know how to process the thought. Do they just not have anything to say to him? Do they think he’s only comfortable with Leslie, even though he was getting to know all of them better? He could want to sit next to Tom, for all they knew.
Or maybe he was an idiot, and he hadn’t been hiding his feelings for Leslie as well as he thought. Maybe it was their way of indulging him. Or maybe you could just take the opportunity, instead of sitting here and analyzing it, he thought to himself.
He nods his thanks at Ron and finally sits himself down next to Leslie. She glances over at him and smiles.
“Ready to get your ass kicked, by me?” She asks, elbowing his shoulder. He smiles back.
“Aren’t we on the same team?”
“Well, yeah,” she concedes. “But I bet I’ll know more than you.”
His smile widens and he wonders, briefly, if he will ever be able to not give in to her. “You’re on.”
*
And, wow, does she know a lot of weird, trivial things. But Ben is pretty smart, too, and two of the questions are about Star Wars, so he’s definitely pulling his weight.
In fact, their team has a nearly perfect score. And Ben can’t stop smiling, leaning over the table to argue with April and Andy over the music questions (he knows "Eleanor Rigby" is on Revolver, not Rubber Soul), debating baseball with Ron (he was at Game 2 of the ’91 World Series, dammit, he remembers the score), and ducking his head close to Leslie, whispering answers in her ear, so the other teams won’t steal them (“Put your hand over your mouth, you never know who might be able to read lips!”).
It’s the most fun Ben has had in a long time, so when the DJ announces their win and Leslie asks “Same time next week?”, he agrees without hesitation.
***
Next week is much of the same, though the restaurant is having a special on the margarita pitchers, so everyone is a little tipsy and a little giggly.
Ben is also a little bolder, filled with liquid confidence, and he flirts more openly with Leslie, and he swears she not only notices, but is reveling in it a little.
She reaches up at one point to pat his hair and ends up running a few fingers through it instead. He knows the smile he is giving her has to say it all, can practically feel his heart perched right there on his sleeve.
And she gives him a small, secretive smile, and that’s all it takes for him to feel validated, to know that all these extensions he’s asked for, all this waiting and wondering. It finally means something.
He decides that it’s okay to not name it, decides it’s okay to take it slow. He wants to take it slow.
So he makes really bad jokes and Leslie laughs at them a little too hard, but she also rests her head on his shoulder once, trying to catch her breath, so he never calls her out on it.
And she places her hand on his thigh, briefly, as a sort of congratulations, when he’s the only one who knows the 14th President (Franklin Pierce, though Leslie would have gotten it if she would have counted backwards from Lincoln, instead of trying to name all 14 in a row).
He briefly thinks of kissing her, when she leans over him to get Tom’s opinion on one of the fashion questions, but he doesn’t, just sips contentedly on the last of his margarita.
He settles with wrapping a hand around her upper arm to steady her as she’s sitting back up, settles with another secretive smile, and thinks it doesn’t feel like settling at all.
***
The next time, not everyone can come, so they all shove into a booth. Ben is on the inside, and Leslie slides in next to him, her thigh touching his. He leans over to push her shoulder with his, but opens his menu to share. She leans over him to read, and Ben knows she’s just going to get the same thing she always does, but he doesn’t say anything.
This time, they order another margarita pitcher, but with less people to share with, the drinks hit them faster. Unfortunately, with less people, they also have less knowledge to draw from and quickly lose their grip on first place.
But no one cares, Ben least of all. Leslie is balling up napkins and throwing them at him, stealing bites from his quesadilla, and he is trying his best to act indignant. Tom is trying to scoot as close to Ann as he can, until Ann begs Ron to switch seats. Ron quietly sips his drink and answers the questions he knows.
At the halfway point, the DJ announces he has another game: he will play a song and the first person to run up and shout the artist will get a coupon for a free appetizer. He starts the song in the middle, right at the chorus.
As soon as the first note hits Ben’s ears, his head shoots up. Leslie flails her way out of the booth and pulls on his arm, hard.
“Ben, Ben, go, go, go!” She is tugging him out of the booth desperately, and he is obediently following, until he is finally out, and she shoves him in the direction of the DJ.
He is totally aware of how stupid he looks; jogging through the restaurant as fast he can, dodging tables and waiters. But he doesn’t care all that much, he has only two thoughts: one, if he wins, it will make Leslie happy and that will make up for the fact that two, he hates that he knows this song this well.
And he makes it there a foot ahead of everyone else, shouts, “Tag Team!” before anyone has the chance. The DJ smiles and hands him the prize, his eyebrows raised.
“Big fan of 'Whoomp, There It Is', huh?” He asks happily. Ben shrugs as he takes the coupon.
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I actually really, really hate that song.”
He walks back to the group, holding the paper above his head triumphantly. Leslie claps excitedly and stands to let him back in the booth, but before he can make it in, she reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck.
Ben stands there for a split second, shocked, but recovers quickly and returns the hug. She pulls back and grins.
“I guess that song was good for something, right?” She says, patting his shoulder as she straightens herself.
Ben looks at her for a moment, this wonderful, crazy woman in front of him, who takes the things that Ben resents and turns them into these wonderful, crazy moments. And he can’t, for the life of him, figure out what he’s been waiting for.
So he leans down at that moment and kisses her, soft, sweet, and short, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other clutching his coupon for one free appetizer. He pulls back, grins at the slight hint of pink on Leslie’s cheeks, and slides his way into the booth.
It doesn’t take much time at all for Leslie to recover, and soon she is sliding in next to him. She pauses for a moment, then shyly glances over.
He meets her gaze, and after she considers him for a moment, she gives him that secretive smile, the one she saves just for him. And she grabs his hand under the table and doesn’t let go for the rest of the night.
The End
Thank you for reading, please let me know what you thought!
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1641
Summary: Ben doesn't think much of it; he’s been to trivia games with Chris and the man is insufferable
A/N: This weird little thing is what happens when I put my senior seminar paper off. Hope you enjoy :)
The first few times Ben hears about trivia night at the new Mexican place down the road from City Hall, it’s from Chris, who plays with “the lovely Ann Perkins” every Tuesday night. Ben doesn’t think much of it; he’s been to trivia games with Chris and the man is insufferable (“Oh, don’t worry, Ben! I don’t think any less of you just because you didn’t know that!”).
But apparently it becomes a thing that Ann tells Leslie about and Leslie tells her whole department about and suddenly, everyone from Parks gets together semi-regularly to play. But, they’re not trying to expense it, so he still doesn’t think much of it.
He tries not to let it bother him too much when Chris comes in on Wednesday mornings with some “delightful” story from the night before. He would decline an invitation, anyway, if anyone ever did invite him. Still.
Once the Harvest Festival gets closer, the trivia nights stop. Then Chris and Ann break up, the Harvest Festival actually happens, and everything becomes too busy, until a few weeks after the camping trip, when Leslie announces The Knope-it-All’s are going back to their regular Tuesday night game.
He is in the room when she announces it, so she turns towards him and grins, her eyes bright, her eyebrows wiggling up and down her forehead.
“You’re coming too,” she says, in a tone that wouldn’t allow him to refuse, even if he had wanted to. So he mustered the only response he could think of.
“The Knope-it-All’s?”
***
Everyone from Parks shows up that night, plus Ann and Andy, so they are shoved to the back, to a bunch of tables haphazardly thrown together. Leslie sits in the middle, obviously the leader of the team, and Ben patiently waits for everyone else to find their seat.
Ann takes the seat to Leslie’s right, but everyone passes by the one on her left. He thinks it’s a little odd, until he suddenly realizes, as Ron stands next to him, his hand outstretched towards the open seat beside Leslie, that they had all just assumed that Ben would sit there.
He doesn’t really know how to process the thought. Do they just not have anything to say to him? Do they think he’s only comfortable with Leslie, even though he was getting to know all of them better? He could want to sit next to Tom, for all they knew.
Or maybe he was an idiot, and he hadn’t been hiding his feelings for Leslie as well as he thought. Maybe it was their way of indulging him. Or maybe you could just take the opportunity, instead of sitting here and analyzing it, he thought to himself.
He nods his thanks at Ron and finally sits himself down next to Leslie. She glances over at him and smiles.
“Ready to get your ass kicked, by me?” She asks, elbowing his shoulder. He smiles back.
“Aren’t we on the same team?”
“Well, yeah,” she concedes. “But I bet I’ll know more than you.”
His smile widens and he wonders, briefly, if he will ever be able to not give in to her. “You’re on.”
*
And, wow, does she know a lot of weird, trivial things. But Ben is pretty smart, too, and two of the questions are about Star Wars, so he’s definitely pulling his weight.
In fact, their team has a nearly perfect score. And Ben can’t stop smiling, leaning over the table to argue with April and Andy over the music questions (he knows "Eleanor Rigby" is on Revolver, not Rubber Soul), debating baseball with Ron (he was at Game 2 of the ’91 World Series, dammit, he remembers the score), and ducking his head close to Leslie, whispering answers in her ear, so the other teams won’t steal them (“Put your hand over your mouth, you never know who might be able to read lips!”).
It’s the most fun Ben has had in a long time, so when the DJ announces their win and Leslie asks “Same time next week?”, he agrees without hesitation.
***
Next week is much of the same, though the restaurant is having a special on the margarita pitchers, so everyone is a little tipsy and a little giggly.
Ben is also a little bolder, filled with liquid confidence, and he flirts more openly with Leslie, and he swears she not only notices, but is reveling in it a little.
She reaches up at one point to pat his hair and ends up running a few fingers through it instead. He knows the smile he is giving her has to say it all, can practically feel his heart perched right there on his sleeve.
And she gives him a small, secretive smile, and that’s all it takes for him to feel validated, to know that all these extensions he’s asked for, all this waiting and wondering. It finally means something.
He decides that it’s okay to not name it, decides it’s okay to take it slow. He wants to take it slow.
So he makes really bad jokes and Leslie laughs at them a little too hard, but she also rests her head on his shoulder once, trying to catch her breath, so he never calls her out on it.
And she places her hand on his thigh, briefly, as a sort of congratulations, when he’s the only one who knows the 14th President (Franklin Pierce, though Leslie would have gotten it if she would have counted backwards from Lincoln, instead of trying to name all 14 in a row).
He briefly thinks of kissing her, when she leans over him to get Tom’s opinion on one of the fashion questions, but he doesn’t, just sips contentedly on the last of his margarita.
He settles with wrapping a hand around her upper arm to steady her as she’s sitting back up, settles with another secretive smile, and thinks it doesn’t feel like settling at all.
***
The next time, not everyone can come, so they all shove into a booth. Ben is on the inside, and Leslie slides in next to him, her thigh touching his. He leans over to push her shoulder with his, but opens his menu to share. She leans over him to read, and Ben knows she’s just going to get the same thing she always does, but he doesn’t say anything.
This time, they order another margarita pitcher, but with less people to share with, the drinks hit them faster. Unfortunately, with less people, they also have less knowledge to draw from and quickly lose their grip on first place.
But no one cares, Ben least of all. Leslie is balling up napkins and throwing them at him, stealing bites from his quesadilla, and he is trying his best to act indignant. Tom is trying to scoot as close to Ann as he can, until Ann begs Ron to switch seats. Ron quietly sips his drink and answers the questions he knows.
At the halfway point, the DJ announces he has another game: he will play a song and the first person to run up and shout the artist will get a coupon for a free appetizer. He starts the song in the middle, right at the chorus.
As soon as the first note hits Ben’s ears, his head shoots up. Leslie flails her way out of the booth and pulls on his arm, hard.
“Ben, Ben, go, go, go!” She is tugging him out of the booth desperately, and he is obediently following, until he is finally out, and she shoves him in the direction of the DJ.
He is totally aware of how stupid he looks; jogging through the restaurant as fast he can, dodging tables and waiters. But he doesn’t care all that much, he has only two thoughts: one, if he wins, it will make Leslie happy and that will make up for the fact that two, he hates that he knows this song this well.
And he makes it there a foot ahead of everyone else, shouts, “Tag Team!” before anyone has the chance. The DJ smiles and hands him the prize, his eyebrows raised.
“Big fan of 'Whoomp, There It Is', huh?” He asks happily. Ben shrugs as he takes the coupon.
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I actually really, really hate that song.”
He walks back to the group, holding the paper above his head triumphantly. Leslie claps excitedly and stands to let him back in the booth, but before he can make it in, she reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck.
Ben stands there for a split second, shocked, but recovers quickly and returns the hug. She pulls back and grins.
“I guess that song was good for something, right?” She says, patting his shoulder as she straightens herself.
Ben looks at her for a moment, this wonderful, crazy woman in front of him, who takes the things that Ben resents and turns them into these wonderful, crazy moments. And he can’t, for the life of him, figure out what he’s been waiting for.
So he leans down at that moment and kisses her, soft, sweet, and short, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other clutching his coupon for one free appetizer. He pulls back, grins at the slight hint of pink on Leslie’s cheeks, and slides his way into the booth.
It doesn’t take much time at all for Leslie to recover, and soon she is sliding in next to him. She pauses for a moment, then shyly glances over.
He meets her gaze, and after she considers him for a moment, she gives him that secretive smile, the one she saves just for him. And she grabs his hand under the table and doesn’t let go for the rest of the night.
The End
Thank you for reading, please let me know what you thought!