veils
in
crookedhalt
thank you, alcohol; parks & rec
thank you, alcohol
“Fine, fine, I’ll do your stupid surprise party deal, but it’s not going to make me like Ann.”
ann perkins/april ludgate; pg-13, ~2000 words. written for zombie_boogie at the parks and rec rarepairs ficathon with the prompt too much pink champagne. set sometime after 4x10 (citizen knope).
notes: I'm sorry this took so long and is so lame and is also thinly veiled Leslie/April, Meg!!! I scrapped my whole first idea after I saw the latest episode and I was going to have it done earlier today but then apparently I had to livetweet the Oscars so... idek, there are my excuses. I hope you like it okay, I know you have been shipping Ann/April since Citizen Knope, but I have had a lot of sparkling wine this evening so I can't really vouch for the quality!!!
April’s not sure when Ann decided she needed April to like her. But it’s completely weird, whenever she did decide it. And like, April might not hate hate Ann anymore, but her incessant chatting and volunteering to hang out and touching is enough to drive any normal person insane. The only people who really enjoy that kind of thing are people like Leslie, which is probably why her and Ann are always up in each other’s grills all the time.
Things just get worse the day Leslie calls April and Ann into her office with an excited grin and opens a large folder on her desk. April hates it when Leslie gets her folders out, because usually it means she’s going to make April do something she doesn’t want to.
Sure enough, Leslie says, “As the both of you know, Donna’s birthday is coming up,” both Ann and April look blankly at Leslie, but she continues as though they were aware of it anyway, “and since I’m super tied up with all this campaign stuff at the moment, I thought I would put two of my favourite ladies in the office in charge of the surprise party.”
“Leslie, we’re the only other ladies in the office...” Ann starts.
“Well, except for Tom,” April adds. Leslie gives her a reprimanding look, then turns to Ann with an adoring smile (of course).
“Oh Ann, you gorgeous, simple-minded squirrel; that doesn’t make you being my favourite any less significant! You’d be just as important to me if there were fifty ladies in the office. Ooh, that sounds like it would be the best, I wish there were fifty ladies in the office.”
April rolls her eyes as Ann awws about Leslie’s compliment, then Leslie is all business again.
“Now, I’ve made you up a complete itinerary for the party, and the rec centre is all booked and paid for, all you need to do is get everything on this list and set it up and then make sure everyone is there by seven o’clock tonight, can you do it?”
“Yes,” Ann says at exactly the same time as April replies with a stout, “No.”
“Excellent! Thank you so much, you guys, this is the biggest help.”
Ugh, that makes it even worse; why would she want to actually be helpful? April hangs back as Ann leaves - presumably to start on the list they’ve been given - and puts her copy of the list back down on Leslie’s desk.
“Leslieeee,” she whines, “Why did you have to make me do this? With Ann, who is stupid and the worst - you know I hate doing things. With people. That I hate.”
Leslie smiles at her and comes around from behind the desk. “I thought this might help you and Ann get a little closer, April! All she wants is for you to like her!”
April scowls at her and tries not to meet her gaze because Leslie’s got her I’m-quietly-pleading-with-you-to-do-this look on and for some strange, disconcerting reason it’s like April’s kryptonite.
“Pleeeease April? For me?” Leslie asks, picking up Aprils hands and swinging them a bit, trying to catch April’s eye. When she finally succeeds, April rolls her eyes and Leslie knows she’s won.
“Fine, fine, I’ll do your stupid surprise party deal, but it’s not going to make me like Ann.” She snatches up the list again and makes to leave, but Leslie crushes her into a grateful hug.
“Thank you, April!” she says happily, her voice muffled by April’s hair.
She should be more annoyed at this, with Ann trying to hug her every five seconds there’s already way too much physical contact going on for her liking, but something about Leslie turns her into a person that almost likes that kind of thing.
Then Leslie disentangles herself and immediately pushes April out of her office with a hurried bye April have fun please don’t kill Ann oh and tell her I love her! and April just thinks: this is going to be the worst day ever.
At Food n’ Stuff (April insisted), things go mostly without a hitch until they reach the alcohol section. Ann consults Leslie’s list when April loads five bottles of cheap champagne into their trolley and then she frowns.
“April, Leslie said four bottles of pink champagne, not five of whatever this is.”
“Food n’ Stuff doesn’t sell pink champagne, that’s why I yanked this-” she pulls a small bottle of red food colouring out of her coat pocket, “-from the baking section, duh. No one’s gonna know the difference anyway, they’ll all get hammered just the same.”
Ann’s still frowning. “But why is there five?”
April just looks at her. Why is this not obvious?! “Because one’s for me,” she clarifies sanctimoniously. God Ann is stupid.
Ann bites her lip, then shoves the list back in her pocket. “Get another one too.”
Eyebrows raised, April puts another bottle in the cart.
“For me,” Ann says, daring April to say anything about it.
She doesn’t.
The rec centre takes a surprisingly short time to decorate (though, really, all that was involved was covering some tables in leopard-print cloth and then hanging bright pink streamers from every available wall, so it’s not like it was a hard job, exactly), so it’s not long before April is tipping a few drops of food colouring into all the bottles of champagne and then unceremoniously handing Ann the one she bought for herself.
“Cheers,” she says emotionlessly, then takes a long swig.
“Champagne is the best,” Ann says twenty minutes later, her bottle mostly empty and swinging dangerously around in her hand. April just nods, watching Andy arrange spring rolls on a platter near them (they enlisted his help after they got buzzed and he was all too happy to help set up the horse de-verses, or whatever it was he called them), her own bottle holding only the dregs of her champagne.
Ann looks much nicer drunk. Or maybe it’s just because April’s drunk, she doesn’t know, but it’s way easier to see now why people actually, you know, like her and stuff.
“We should have bought seven bottles,” April says mournfully, after the last of her champagne burns down her throat and solidifies the heavy buzz in her head. Ann looks over at her, and with a half-smile, shoves her bottle towards April’s hand, then holds up a finger. April takes a drink, and watches Ann pull out her phone.
“Dear Leslie,” Ann says out loud, her brows knitting in concentration, “five bottles of pink champagne is not enough because we also need vodka. Love Ann.”
April actually wants to high-five Ann for that.
Leslie arrives fifteen minutes later with a bottle of vodka in hand even if she’s confused as to why she brought it, and Ann throws her arms out towards her in celebration. “Leslie! You brought vodka!!!”
Setting the bottle down on the table in front of them, Leslie walks into Ann’s arms and hugs her around the neck, too tall for Ann’s height on the chair, and just looks even more puzzled. “I did! But can I ask why?”
Ann, her head resting against Leslie’s stomach, smiles. “We didn’t want to drink all the pink surprise birthday champagne but we wanted to be drunk.”
Sure it must be the alcohol, April feels a little spread of warmth somewhere in her chest at Ann’s we in that sentence, and nods her assent. “Really drunk.”
Leslie looks knowingly at April, the edge of her mouth lifted in almost a smile. “Right. Of course,” she says, then kisses the top of Ann’s head. “You guys have fun then.”
Seeing April’s wry expression, Leslie moves from Ann to April and kisses the top of her head, too, much to April’s faux-disgust. Then Leslie leans down. “I know you didn’t want to, but thank you for helping, April,” she says quietly, and April really, really wants to hate this, why is it so hard?
“Whatever,” April replies, and Leslie lets go.
“I’m going to find out how far away Ron is, try not to pass out before Donna gets here, okay? I want everyone to be conscious to yell surprise.”
“Okay, Leslie,” says Ann. “But first I have to go to the bathroom.”
For some reason, April finds herself agreeing. “Yes! I shall go to the bathroom as well,” then gets up dramatically and follows Ann’s unsteady steps to the rec centre bathrooms.
Shutting the door to one of the stalls she sits on the closed toilet seat and tries not to listen to Ann pee, thinking instead about how little she’s hated a lot of people today. Especially Ann. But the thing is, the champagne tells her, Ann is not entirely unattractive, and she did get drunk with her which is always a plus in April’s book, and the other thing is it’s just been a really long time since April’s gotten drunk and made out with a girl or a gay boyfriend or a gay boyfriend’s boyfriend. And it’s what she wants to do. And Ann is kind of the closest available candidate.
So when she hears Ann washing her hands she comes out of the stall and rests a hip against the counter, watches her snag a towel from the dispenser.
“What?” Ann asks curiously, voice still edged with the bottle of champagne she’s consumed.
“Nothing,” April shrugs, looking away. Then her gaze flicks back to Ann. “You’re nicer than I thought. It’s annoying.”
Ann almost smirks. “Sorry for disappointing you.”
There’s a pause, and April weirdly feels like she should apologise. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to marry Andy.”
“I’m not,” Ann says. “Not... that you shouldn’t be happy that you did, but I am just so glad I didn’t.”
Another pause. Ann studies her, eyes narrowed.
“Why are you here, April?”
April steps forward, and when Ann doesn’t move away, April steps forward again until the gap between them closes and her mouth is on Ann’s. Ann makes a slightly surprised noise, her hands tensing near April’s elbows, then she exhales long and slow and quietly pulls away.
“I’m kind of drunk but you just kissed me, right? In a bathroom at a party?”
April shrugs. “I saw it on The L Word once.”
“You... watch that?”
“No, when Leslie broke up with Ben and he was super depressed he bought the whole series on DVD and just sat in the living room watching it all day. Then me and Andy kept walking in on it and sitting down and he ended up making us late for like, everything. Anyway what do you care? It’s not like you’re married.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Ann says sarcastically, her gaze dipping briefly to April’s mouth.
April leans forward again, presses her lips lightly against Ann’s, then feels Ann kiss her back, her hand coming up to slide over April’s neck.
She’s never going to look at pink champagne the same way again.
When they finally come out of the bathroom, Ann running her fingers through her messy hair to smooth it back down, Leslie looks at them quizzically. “What have you been doing?”
“Making out in the bathroom,” April says immediately, completely deadpan. Ann gapes behind her, and Leslie rolls her eyes.
“Okay, April, whatever, you don’t have to tell me.”
April grins a you’re welcome back at Ann as Leslie wanders off, and she returns the smile gratefully.
Then, for the rest of the evening, they terrorise the guests at Donna’s party.
“Hey Jerry, where’d you get that shirt, your dead mother’s costume trunk?”
“Yeah, Jerry, it does kinda look like you’re going as a pedophile for Halloween or something.”
“Hey Tom, where’s your boyfriend? Was he not invited because he keeps trying to cheat on you with Donna?”
“In your relationship you’re the lady, right? Because it could almost be Jean-Ralphio but you’re still the one who’s worn a dress the most often.”
“Pants Queen!” Leslie interjects as she races by.
The next day though, of course, everything goes back to normal, and it’s like nothing ever happened. Well, except for the raging hangover and that tiny, irritating reminder every time April looks at Ann that it’s becoming so much harder to hate her.
“Fine, fine, I’ll do your stupid surprise party deal, but it’s not going to make me like Ann.”
ann perkins/april ludgate; pg-13, ~2000 words. written for zombie_boogie at the parks and rec rarepairs ficathon with the prompt too much pink champagne. set sometime after 4x10 (citizen knope).
notes: I'm sorry this took so long and is so lame and is also thinly veiled Leslie/April, Meg!!! I scrapped my whole first idea after I saw the latest episode and I was going to have it done earlier today but then apparently I had to livetweet the Oscars so... idek, there are my excuses. I hope you like it okay, I know you have been shipping Ann/April since Citizen Knope, but I have had a lot of sparkling wine this evening so I can't really vouch for the quality!!!
April’s not sure when Ann decided she needed April to like her. But it’s completely weird, whenever she did decide it. And like, April might not hate hate Ann anymore, but her incessant chatting and volunteering to hang out and touching is enough to drive any normal person insane. The only people who really enjoy that kind of thing are people like Leslie, which is probably why her and Ann are always up in each other’s grills all the time.
Things just get worse the day Leslie calls April and Ann into her office with an excited grin and opens a large folder on her desk. April hates it when Leslie gets her folders out, because usually it means she’s going to make April do something she doesn’t want to.
Sure enough, Leslie says, “As the both of you know, Donna’s birthday is coming up,” both Ann and April look blankly at Leslie, but she continues as though they were aware of it anyway, “and since I’m super tied up with all this campaign stuff at the moment, I thought I would put two of my favourite ladies in the office in charge of the surprise party.”
“Leslie, we’re the only other ladies in the office...” Ann starts.
“Well, except for Tom,” April adds. Leslie gives her a reprimanding look, then turns to Ann with an adoring smile (of course).
“Oh Ann, you gorgeous, simple-minded squirrel; that doesn’t make you being my favourite any less significant! You’d be just as important to me if there were fifty ladies in the office. Ooh, that sounds like it would be the best, I wish there were fifty ladies in the office.”
April rolls her eyes as Ann awws about Leslie’s compliment, then Leslie is all business again.
“Now, I’ve made you up a complete itinerary for the party, and the rec centre is all booked and paid for, all you need to do is get everything on this list and set it up and then make sure everyone is there by seven o’clock tonight, can you do it?”
“Yes,” Ann says at exactly the same time as April replies with a stout, “No.”
“Excellent! Thank you so much, you guys, this is the biggest help.”
Ugh, that makes it even worse; why would she want to actually be helpful? April hangs back as Ann leaves - presumably to start on the list they’ve been given - and puts her copy of the list back down on Leslie’s desk.
“Leslieeee,” she whines, “Why did you have to make me do this? With Ann, who is stupid and the worst - you know I hate doing things. With people. That I hate.”
Leslie smiles at her and comes around from behind the desk. “I thought this might help you and Ann get a little closer, April! All she wants is for you to like her!”
April scowls at her and tries not to meet her gaze because Leslie’s got her I’m-quietly-pleading-with-you-to-do-this look on and for some strange, disconcerting reason it’s like April’s kryptonite.
“Pleeeease April? For me?” Leslie asks, picking up Aprils hands and swinging them a bit, trying to catch April’s eye. When she finally succeeds, April rolls her eyes and Leslie knows she’s won.
“Fine, fine, I’ll do your stupid surprise party deal, but it’s not going to make me like Ann.” She snatches up the list again and makes to leave, but Leslie crushes her into a grateful hug.
“Thank you, April!” she says happily, her voice muffled by April’s hair.
She should be more annoyed at this, with Ann trying to hug her every five seconds there’s already way too much physical contact going on for her liking, but something about Leslie turns her into a person that almost likes that kind of thing.
Then Leslie disentangles herself and immediately pushes April out of her office with a hurried bye April have fun please don’t kill Ann oh and tell her I love her! and April just thinks: this is going to be the worst day ever.
At Food n’ Stuff (April insisted), things go mostly without a hitch until they reach the alcohol section. Ann consults Leslie’s list when April loads five bottles of cheap champagne into their trolley and then she frowns.
“April, Leslie said four bottles of pink champagne, not five of whatever this is.”
“Food n’ Stuff doesn’t sell pink champagne, that’s why I yanked this-” she pulls a small bottle of red food colouring out of her coat pocket, “-from the baking section, duh. No one’s gonna know the difference anyway, they’ll all get hammered just the same.”
Ann’s still frowning. “But why is there five?”
April just looks at her. Why is this not obvious?! “Because one’s for me,” she clarifies sanctimoniously. God Ann is stupid.
Ann bites her lip, then shoves the list back in her pocket. “Get another one too.”
Eyebrows raised, April puts another bottle in the cart.
“For me,” Ann says, daring April to say anything about it.
She doesn’t.
The rec centre takes a surprisingly short time to decorate (though, really, all that was involved was covering some tables in leopard-print cloth and then hanging bright pink streamers from every available wall, so it’s not like it was a hard job, exactly), so it’s not long before April is tipping a few drops of food colouring into all the bottles of champagne and then unceremoniously handing Ann the one she bought for herself.
“Cheers,” she says emotionlessly, then takes a long swig.
“Champagne is the best,” Ann says twenty minutes later, her bottle mostly empty and swinging dangerously around in her hand. April just nods, watching Andy arrange spring rolls on a platter near them (they enlisted his help after they got buzzed and he was all too happy to help set up the horse de-verses, or whatever it was he called them), her own bottle holding only the dregs of her champagne.
Ann looks much nicer drunk. Or maybe it’s just because April’s drunk, she doesn’t know, but it’s way easier to see now why people actually, you know, like her and stuff.
“We should have bought seven bottles,” April says mournfully, after the last of her champagne burns down her throat and solidifies the heavy buzz in her head. Ann looks over at her, and with a half-smile, shoves her bottle towards April’s hand, then holds up a finger. April takes a drink, and watches Ann pull out her phone.
“Dear Leslie,” Ann says out loud, her brows knitting in concentration, “five bottles of pink champagne is not enough because we also need vodka. Love Ann.”
April actually wants to high-five Ann for that.
Leslie arrives fifteen minutes later with a bottle of vodka in hand even if she’s confused as to why she brought it, and Ann throws her arms out towards her in celebration. “Leslie! You brought vodka!!!”
Setting the bottle down on the table in front of them, Leslie walks into Ann’s arms and hugs her around the neck, too tall for Ann’s height on the chair, and just looks even more puzzled. “I did! But can I ask why?”
Ann, her head resting against Leslie’s stomach, smiles. “We didn’t want to drink all the pink surprise birthday champagne but we wanted to be drunk.”
Sure it must be the alcohol, April feels a little spread of warmth somewhere in her chest at Ann’s we in that sentence, and nods her assent. “Really drunk.”
Leslie looks knowingly at April, the edge of her mouth lifted in almost a smile. “Right. Of course,” she says, then kisses the top of Ann’s head. “You guys have fun then.”
Seeing April’s wry expression, Leslie moves from Ann to April and kisses the top of her head, too, much to April’s faux-disgust. Then Leslie leans down. “I know you didn’t want to, but thank you for helping, April,” she says quietly, and April really, really wants to hate this, why is it so hard?
“Whatever,” April replies, and Leslie lets go.
“I’m going to find out how far away Ron is, try not to pass out before Donna gets here, okay? I want everyone to be conscious to yell surprise.”
“Okay, Leslie,” says Ann. “But first I have to go to the bathroom.”
For some reason, April finds herself agreeing. “Yes! I shall go to the bathroom as well,” then gets up dramatically and follows Ann’s unsteady steps to the rec centre bathrooms.
Shutting the door to one of the stalls she sits on the closed toilet seat and tries not to listen to Ann pee, thinking instead about how little she’s hated a lot of people today. Especially Ann. But the thing is, the champagne tells her, Ann is not entirely unattractive, and she did get drunk with her which is always a plus in April’s book, and the other thing is it’s just been a really long time since April’s gotten drunk and made out with a girl or a gay boyfriend or a gay boyfriend’s boyfriend. And it’s what she wants to do. And Ann is kind of the closest available candidate.
So when she hears Ann washing her hands she comes out of the stall and rests a hip against the counter, watches her snag a towel from the dispenser.
“What?” Ann asks curiously, voice still edged with the bottle of champagne she’s consumed.
“Nothing,” April shrugs, looking away. Then her gaze flicks back to Ann. “You’re nicer than I thought. It’s annoying.”
Ann almost smirks. “Sorry for disappointing you.”
There’s a pause, and April weirdly feels like she should apologise. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to marry Andy.”
“I’m not,” Ann says. “Not... that you shouldn’t be happy that you did, but I am just so glad I didn’t.”
Another pause. Ann studies her, eyes narrowed.
“Why are you here, April?”
April steps forward, and when Ann doesn’t move away, April steps forward again until the gap between them closes and her mouth is on Ann’s. Ann makes a slightly surprised noise, her hands tensing near April’s elbows, then she exhales long and slow and quietly pulls away.
“I’m kind of drunk but you just kissed me, right? In a bathroom at a party?”
April shrugs. “I saw it on The L Word once.”
“You... watch that?”
“No, when Leslie broke up with Ben and he was super depressed he bought the whole series on DVD and just sat in the living room watching it all day. Then me and Andy kept walking in on it and sitting down and he ended up making us late for like, everything. Anyway what do you care? It’s not like you’re married.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Ann says sarcastically, her gaze dipping briefly to April’s mouth.
April leans forward again, presses her lips lightly against Ann’s, then feels Ann kiss her back, her hand coming up to slide over April’s neck.
She’s never going to look at pink champagne the same way again.
When they finally come out of the bathroom, Ann running her fingers through her messy hair to smooth it back down, Leslie looks at them quizzically. “What have you been doing?”
“Making out in the bathroom,” April says immediately, completely deadpan. Ann gapes behind her, and Leslie rolls her eyes.
“Okay, April, whatever, you don’t have to tell me.”
April grins a you’re welcome back at Ann as Leslie wanders off, and she returns the smile gratefully.
Then, for the rest of the evening, they terrorise the guests at Donna’s party.
“Hey Jerry, where’d you get that shirt, your dead mother’s costume trunk?”
“Yeah, Jerry, it does kinda look like you’re going as a pedophile for Halloween or something.”
“Hey Tom, where’s your boyfriend? Was he not invited because he keeps trying to cheat on you with Donna?”
“In your relationship you’re the lady, right? Because it could almost be Jean-Ralphio but you’re still the one who’s worn a dress the most often.”
“Pants Queen!” Leslie interjects as she races by.
The next day though, of course, everything goes back to normal, and it’s like nothing ever happened. Well, except for the raging hangover and that tiny, irritating reminder every time April looks at Ann that it’s becoming so much harder to hate her.