Fic: Witness Protection, part 12/?

[jncar]

Title: Witness Protection, part 12/?
Fandom: Parks and Recreation
Characters/Ships: Ben/Leslie, Chris/Ann, Andy/April, Ben/Pawnee, ensemble
Rating: R (This chapter only. The majority of the story remains PG-13)
Word Count: ~11,200
Summary: When corporate whistleblowers Ben Adams and Chris Robinson barely escape an attempt on their lives, they gladly accept the protection of the Federal Witness Protection program. What they don't count on is being sent to a city that feels more like something out of a movie or a sitcom than real life: Pawnee Indiana. An AU starting in "Master Plan."
Author's Notes: This is a big chapter. Both in length and in stuff happening. So I hope it holds you all for a while because my life is pretty busy for the next few weeks, and *ducks head* you won't be getting another update for 4-6 weeks. Consider yourselves warned. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11



Chris had been avoiding any and all projects related to the Harvest Festival. He hated seeing the resentment in Leslie Knope's eyes, and he didn't want to run the risk of bumping into Ann. Needless to say, the past two weeks had been rather unpleasant. He'd come very close to an all-out depression when he first entered federal protective custody, just prior to the ill-fated hearing. However, his time in Pawnee had lifted his spirits considerably. Until now.

He had just finished tipping the last drops of his pre-run smoothie into his mouth early on the Monday morning of the Harvest Festival opening when Ben ambled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"Ben! Good morning, early bird. How delightful to see you up before the sun. I was just setting out on my morning run to take in the crisp air and the glorious sunrise. Would you like to join me?" The endorphins from the activity would surely be good for him, and Chris had been missing his company.

Ben stared vacantly into space for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I think I'd actually like that."

Chris's jaw dropped. "Benjamin! I am floored. But delighted. Would you like a pre-run smoothie?"

"No." Ben shook his head. "I'll just drink a glass of water and change into some shorts. Give me a minute."

It felt wonderful to hit the street with Ben at his side. It didn't even matter that Chris had to slow his normal pace considerably in order to accommodate Ben's more leisurely approach to jogging. Chris still found himself smiling wider than he had in weeks. What a glorious start to what would surely be a glorious week.

"There's something I need to tell you," said Ben after a few minutes.

"Certainly," replied Chris. "What's on your mind, buddy?"

"I-kind of made out with Leslie last night."

Chris nearly tripped. After regaining his balance he tried to get his mind back in focus. So. In spite of Ben's unending stream of protests, this was actually happening. Chris should have known it was inevitable. But what would it mean for their future? Ben was far too honest to carry on their deception with someone he cared about deeply-an admirable quality, to be sure, but not necessarily a good thing under the present circumstances.

"Does this mean that the two of you are officially involved, now?" he asked, easing into the difficult discussion.

"I don't know," said Ben, his feet hitting the pavement with an unpleasant slap as they continued to jog. His shoes weren't really suited for the activity. "It was really late, at the end of a stressful day, and it just kind of happened. We didn't really get around to talking about what it meant. I guess we'll have to do that."

Chris nodded, trying to parse Ben's words. He'd seen some of the news coverage of the so-called curse and the missing pony, which surely must have given considerable stress to everyone involved in the festival. He had no doubt that the situations had been successfully resolved. After all, Ben and Leslie were excellent at their jobs. And he could certainly understand giving into temptation after such a long, difficult day. But Ben really should have resolved things more concretely. "Yes. You certainly will. If you decide to pursue a relationship, it's important that you and I coordinate our cover stories more regularly so that Leslie won't suspect. Unless-" He hesitated as they rounded a bend and dodged a large raccoon. "Unless you plan on telling her." Chris's stomach churned a little at the thought of all the complications that could ensue from such a choice. However, if anyone could ever be trusted with their secret, it was Leslie Knope.

"No," said Ben firmly. "I couldn't do that to her. She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this mess."

"Ah."

They jogged in silence for another two blocks.

When Ben spoke again, his words were so soft that Chris could barely make them out. "I really care about her."

"I know you do."

A half-block later, Ben said, "I get it, now. Why you broke up with Kelsey. I finally understand."

Chris slowed to a halt, Ben stopping beside him. Chris could feel an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the jogging. He reached out to grip Ben's shoulder. "Keeping her out of this is the right choice. It's hard, but in the long run it's the only way to keep her safe."

Ben nodded, his face grim. "I know."

Chris remembered the agony of choosing to end things with Kelsey very well. It wasn't something he'd wish on an enemy, let alone a friend. He squeezed Ben's shoulder. "You'll get through this. I'll be here to help. And don't forget-one day, not too many months from now, this whole ordeal will be over. And when it is, I'm sure Leslie will forgive you for deceiving her. There might still be a future for you when the trial ends. Never let go of that dream."

"I won't. And-and maybe you'll have a chance to clear the air with Kelsey and see if there might be a second chance. You never know." Ben shrugged.

Chris beamed. Maybe his optimism was finally starting to rub off on Ben. It was about time. "Thank you. I certainly hope you're right."

Ben nodded. "I think I'll head back, now. I have to be to the fairgrounds early for a press conference. I'll, uh, keep you posted if anything changes with the Leslie situation."

"Excellent. I'll see you later today. Good luck." Chris patted his friend one more time before continuing his jog. The brilliant sunrise warmed his heart.

Yes. It was going to be a glorious week.

***

Ben hated when Chris was right. But there was no denying it: Chris was right.

There was no way Ben could feel good about having a relationship with Leslie without telling her the truth. And telling her the truth would drag her too deep into his problems and put her in harm's way.

No. He had to move things firmly back into "friends" territory.

This time, he'd stick with his resolution. He'd stay strong. He knew he could do it.

Until he walked onto the fair grounds and saw her smile and wave and felt his heart jump for joy in his chest.

Fuck.

***

Leslie felt genuinely relieved when Ben didn't bring up their spontaneous make-out session before the press conference. She needed her head in the game.

The successful press conference and the fantastic opening hours of the festival were more than enough to occupy her mind for most of the morning. But by her lunch break, when Ben still hadn't brought anything up, she started to get frustrated. And when he still hadn't said anything by her mid-afternoon coffee break, she got really frustrated.

Did he think they could simply pretend it had never happened? Because that was pretty damn unrealistic. This was exactly the sort of condescending, jerk-faced behavior that had led her to occasionally hate him in the first place.

She was about to tell him where he could go stick that ridiculously cute head of his (someplace extremely unpleasant), when he turned up at the staff tent around dinnertime with a JJ's takeout box and a tall coffee cup.

He held them up with a smile. "Waffles and a mocha latte, extra sugar, extra chocolate, extra whipped cream. I thought you could use a pick-me-up to help you push through the rest of the evening."

Just like that, all was forgiven. How could she stay mad at anyone who brought her any combination of waffles, coffee, chocolate and whipped cream? It was physically impossible.

They sat down at one of the tables together, and she smiled at him after sucking a generous scoop of whipped cream off of her finger. "Do you want to share?"

He shook his head. "I had a burger half an hour ago. And then it occurred to me that you'd probably forget to eat, so. . ." He shrugged.

God she wanted to kiss him again.

Stupid economy dragging him away to stupid Atlanta. She didn't think she'd ever despised a city before (other than Eagleton), but she was certainly starting to despise Atlanta. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He watched eat for a few moments, chatting inconsequentially about the goings-on of the first day of the festival. Then, after she swallowed the last bite of her first waffle, his eyes took on a nervous cast. "Um-we should probably talk, at some point, about . . . things." He gestured back and forth between the two of them.

Those old warm tingles stirred back up in Leslie's chest, but this time they didn't feel quite so good. She nodded. "Yeah. We probably should."

"I wasn't even sure if I should bring it up, today," Ben said, "because I didn't want it to get in the way of you enjoying the first day of the festival-"

"No. I'm glad you brought it up. We do need to talk. About things."

"Yep. That's what I thought." He fidgeted. "So . . ."

She sighed. "Nothing's changed. I get that. You're still going to Atlanta." Cursed city. The mayor was probably a Death Eater.

"I am." His shoulders sagged. "It's a good job."

"You don't have to defend your choice. I get it. I really do."

"Okay." He tapped nervously on the table. "Okay. But I-I-this whole just friends thing is turning out to be a lot harder than I expected."

There went those tingles again. She swallowed hard. "Yes. It is."

His gaze locked with hers. "I don't know what to do. What I want to do and what I think is the right thing to do are completely at odds right now. I really really don't know what to do. I was hoping you could, maybe, help with that?" The raw honestly of his plea was almost painful to hear.

Maybe she'd get lucky and a meteor would hit Atlanta. That'd buy her a little time, wouldn't it? Ugh. Crap. Yuck. Frack. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How the hell was she supposed to help when she felt stuck in the exact same quandary?

"I don't know what to do, either," she admitted.

He slumped a little more and started tapping on the table with a nervous, manic rhythm. "Great."

Leslie rolled her eyes. "I'm not any happier about this than you are. It's a really tricky situation. And it sucks. And I hate Atlanta. But you need a job and Atlanta has the job and Pawnee doesn't."

"Yes. Yes, it does." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "There have definitely been times lately when I've kind of hated Atlanta, too. Last night, for instance."

Leslie perked up the corners of her lips into the beginnings of a smile. At least they both agreed about how last night made them feel. Unfortunately, that still didn't solve the problem at hand. Her mind flashed through half a dozen possible scenarios, but none of them seemed terribly promising. There was, however, one constant in all of her thoughts. "Look. The bottom line for me is that whatever we do, I want you in my life. I care about you too much to give up on this-even if it means sticking with the just friends thing."

Ben leaned toward her, his eyes intense. "I want that, too. I really do. But I haven't figured out how to make being friends work without running into more situations like last night. Because I don't think I can stop wanting to be with you."

Oh god. Would kissing him right now be completely inappropriate? Probably. Crap.

"But-" he continued, "-but I'm also having trouble imagining a scenario where we can be together without one or both of us getting hurt in the long run."

Leslie took a few deep breaths to steady herself and fought to quell the urge to just make out with his face right that moment. "Maybe we need to stop thinking about the long run," she said, hoping she didn't sound completely desperate. "Maybe we need to make the most of every day as it comes and figure the rest out later."

An almost-smile lit his face with an air of hope, but it didn't last long. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"What other choice do we have?"

Ben looked down and shook his head. "The only other option is to cool things down. Spend less time together. Maybe start keeping things purely professional."

"No!" Leslie surprised herself with the violence of her reaction. But really, why should anything that he just said be okay with her? "No," she repeated in a calmer tone of voice. "That option is unacceptable. We have to find another way."

His half-smile returned. "Okay, then. I guess that answers that. But I still don't know-"

"Don't know what to do. I get it. Neither of us knows. God, this is so unfair."

"I won't disagree on that point."

Leslie squeezed her lips together, her mind still spinning. She shook her head. "Look-we don't have to come up with an answer right now. Or today, even. The past few days have been crazy and stressful and overwhelming, and it's not too easy to think right now. So here's what I suggest: we just keep going like we've been going, and take some time to think things over for the next few days. We're both bright people. Before the end of the festival one or the other of us will absolutely figure out a way to make all this work. I'm sure of it."

His smile didn't disappear. In fact, it seemed to get just a smidge bigger. "Okay. We'll take a few days and think about it. I can do that."

"Good. That's a plan, then. Now have a bite of this waffle. Waffles make everything better."

This time his smile definitely got bigger. "Oh really?"

"Really." She broke off a chunk of waffle and scooped up some whipped cream on it. "Open wide."

He opened his mouth obligingly, and Leslie pushed the cream-laden waffle into it.

"Mmmm," said Ben as he chewed his mouthful, a dollop of cream still decorating the corner of his lips.

Leslie reached out to wipe up the dollop with her finger and popped it into her own mouth, sucking it clean. Mmmm indeed.

Ben grinned at her as he swallowed. "I think you're right. Waffles do make everything better."

If only they also magically solved tricky relationship problems. Unfortunately, those were for Leslie to work out on her own.

***

On Tuesday, Ben still couldn't think of a solution to his Leslie problem that didn't include telling her the truth.

On Wednesday his mind was equally blank.

By Thursday he was getting a little bit desperate. By midmorning he felt so antsy and nervous around her that he took a break from the festival and headed back to city hall to do some preliminary number-crunching. He'd call it a "mid-festival report."

But even the dull routine of plugging figures into spreadsheets did nothing to clear his mind.

On his lunch he decided to try another distraction technique and looked up the website for the Partridge Daily Herald to check out the stories from the last few weeks. (It had technically been down-graded from a daily to a bi-weekly about five years ago, and half of each issue was ads for the local grocery stores, the used car lot and few other select local retailers. But they updated the website daily, so they kept the name). His mom and a few cousins still lived in Partridge and it was fun to check in once in awhile. It certainly wasn't as good as talking with his mom directly, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He skimmed through the recent headlines, smirking at some of the more amusing small town concerns. In some ways, Partridge was every bit as crazy as Pawnee. When he got to the headlines from Monday, all his amusement vanished.

His stomach twisted into a hard knot as he clicked on the headline: "Beloved Local Teacher in Critical Condition After Car Crash."

Please let it be someone else. Please.

It wasn't someone else.

"Partridge High history teacher Doreen Adams remains in critical condition this morning after her Ford Focus collided with an SUV late Sunday evening . . ."

The knot in his stomach multiplied into two knots, and then into three knots plus a raging headache as he continued to read. Before he finished reading he had his phone in his hand pushing one of his speed dials.

"Agent Burdette," answered a crisp voice.

Ben fought to get his words out around a tight throat. "When exactly were you planning on telling me about my mother?"

"Ben? What are you talking about?"

"Don't treat me like an idiot. I know you keep track of my family. So when the hell were you planning on telling me about my mother?" He couldn’t stop his voice from rising to a near-shout as he gripped the phone like he wanted to squeeze the life out of it.

"Calm down, Ben. She's in stable condition. She's going to be fine. What I need to know is how you found out. Have you been in contact with her or your brother?"

Ben felt like throwing the phone. Hard. "No I haven't been in contact. I follow the protocols. I'm not stupid. I'm so not stupid that I know how to use the fucking internet to look up my hometown newspaper, which had a huge fucking article on her accident. That's how I found out."

"Oh. That." Burdette sounded annoyed.

Screw her annoyance. This was his mother. "Yeah, that." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "I mean, when was the last time you people updated your policies to account for people using the goddamn internet? Seriously. You actually thought I wouldn't find out unless you told me?"

"Ben-" Burdette's voice took on a stern school-teacher tone. One he knew all too well after growing up the son of a teacher. "-you need to calm down about this. If her condition had been life-threatening we would have told you immediately, but she was never in any serious danger of passing."

"Is she home yet? Is someone taking care of her?"

"She's still in the hospital, but they expect to release her no later than Saturday-"

Ben choked. "Saturday?! You mean to tell me that she'll be in the hospital for nearly a week but she was in no serious danger? What the hell constitutes danger in your book, then?"

"She's very shaken up and has a few broken bones, but she'll be fine. Your brother and his wife are here, we've had a police guard posted at her room 24 hours a day, and we've officially offered her federal protection if she wants it-"

"Hold on a minute," said Ben, the pieces slowly clicking into place in his mind. "She-she wouldn't need police protection unless this accident wasn't really an accident. What the hell is going on here, Tonya?"

"Fuck," she cursed. "Look-Agent Lewis and I can be there in two hours to brief you and Chris on the situation in person. Just hang tight until then and we'll explain everything."

"Two hours? I can't wait two hours-"

"Yes. You can. Go get Chris, and meet us at your condo. We'll be there in two hours." She hung up before he could protest again.

Ben dropped the phone to his desk with a clatter and rested his head in his hands.

He'd been a delusional idiot. He'd been living in denial. Fundraisers and festivals wouldn't solve anything. Nothing in his life would be right until Everson and his cronies were behind bars.

***

"That's it," said Ben, pacing back and forth across their living room. "I can't take this. I'm calling the hospital."

Chris sighed. "No, you aren't." It didn't seem to matter to Ben that they'd been through four versions of this conversation already since returning to their condo. Nothing would calm him. "If this accident really was orchestrated by Everson, he did it expressly to draw you out of hiding. You know that."

Ben simply shook his head and continued to pace. "Damn it. Why aren't they here?"

Chris sighed again. The marshals weren't there because only an hour had passed since Ben's initial conversation with Tonya. Driving from Indianapolis took as long as it took. Unfortunately, Ben wasn't in the mood to see reason.

Ben continued to pace, and Chris leaned back into the sofa cushions, trying to meditate. It wasn't like Ben was the only person with something at stake, here. Chris had relatives that stood in harm's way, as well. Everson could be actively working on plans to hurt or kill some of them right this minute, and Chris felt utterly powerless to do anything about it.

Nothing felt worse than powerlessness.

Except, perhaps, hopelessness; but they certainly hadn't gotten to that point. Not yet.

A few minutes later Ben's phone rang, and he answered it immediately. "Yes? Oh. Hi. Yeah. I'm-I'm okay."

Chris frowned. Ben sounded anything but okay.

Ben kept mumbling morose responses. "The mid-festival reports? Oh. I-I forgot. I-No. Really. I'm okay-"

Chris rose to his feet. He couldn't take this anymore. "Is that Leslie Knope?"

Ben stared at him with wide eyes, and nodded.

"Give me the phone." Chris held out his hand, putting on his sternest face.

It worked.

"Hold on a minute," Ben mumbled into the phone, and then handed it over to Chris.

Chris held the phone up to his ear. "Leslie Knope? This is Chris Traeger."

"Chris?" said Leslie, sounding more than a little worried. "What's going on? What's wrong with Ben?"

There was no time to spin elaborate lies, so, for once, Chris opted to stick with the truth. "Ben was trying to put on a brave face and keep you out of his problems, but I know he trusts you, so I'll tell you the truth."

"What? What is it?"

Chris took a deep breath. "Ben is highly upset at the moment. Early this afternoon he received word that a member of his family was in a severe automobile accident and is in the hospital."

"Oh my god! Why didn't he say anything?" Leslie asked.

"I'm afraid Ben isn't thinking too clearly at the moment. We're still waiting for a call back with more information on the exact status of the situation. Currently Ben is very much in the dark, and he's not handling it well. I'll stay with him and make sure he gets all the information he needs."

"Is there anything I can do? I can come right over if he needs me-"

Once again, Leslie was proving herself a wonderful friend and truly admirable human being. But now was most certainly not the time for her get involved. "No, Leslie. The festival needs you. Stay and take care of things on the ground. I'll be with Ben. I'll take good care of him. I promise."

Leslie hesitated before answering, and after the way things played out with Ann, Chris couldn't blame her. "Okay. Take care of him. I'll check in later tonight."

"That would be best."

After hanging up, Chris turned back to Ben, who stood in the center of the room looking more than a little lost. "Hang in there, buddy. Agents Burdette and Lewis will be here soon and they'll have the answers you're looking for. I'm sure everything will be all right."

He managed to convince Ben to sit down and drink some soothing herbal tea-which always helped Chris immensely whenever he felt stressed or worried-and before they knew it the marshals were knocking at their door.

Ben barked out a few angry, irrational questions and accusations as soon and Burdette and Lewis walked in, but Chris managed to calm him and to get him to sit back down so the agents could explain the situation properly. Anger would get them nowhere right now. They needed information.

"Here's what went down," said Lewis, looking at Ben. "On Sunday night your mother ran a red light on her way home from the grocery store and hit an SUV."

"She would never run a red light." Ben sounded offended at the suggestion.

Burdette nodded. "Given her squeaky clean driving record, our people thought the accident looked suspicious. They had the local PD investigate and they found that her breaks had been tampered with."

Ben leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. "Oh god."

Chris felt more than a little sick to his stomach. "So it's certain. Everson is targeting our families, now."

"It looks that way," replied Lewis. "A security camera caught a few glimpses of the two men who tampered with Mrs. Adams' car while she was in the store. They were real pros. In and out in less than three minutes. We put out an APB, but we don't expect to catch them. We're pretty sure they were paid professionals from out of town."

"Oh god," Ben moaned again.

"Ben," said Burdette, "we'll get back to this stuff later. First, you need to know about your mom. Like I said, she's okay. She's beat up, but she's strong."

Ben lifted his head to look at Burdette with red eyes.

"Let me get this right," she said, lifting her phone to pull up an email. "Your mother has a broken femur and fractured hip in her left leg. She dislocated her right shoulder, and has three fractured ribs. She also has a concussion. The leg injuries were the worst, and she'll be on her back in a hip to toe cast for another five weeks. She'll be in a wheelchair for at least a month after that, and in physical therapy for a long time. It's not good, but she was never in danger of dying. The agent on the ground says she's already chomping at the bit to get home and get back to work. She's a tough lady. She'll be just fine."

The nausea in Chris's stomach intensified as he pictured his own parents suffering those injuries. Or worse. Were they next on Everson's list?

Ben nodded weakly. "Okay. And-and you said Don and Lisa are with her?"

Burdette gave a sharp nod. "Yep. Your brother and his wife got to Partridge early Monday morning. They're staying in your mom's house, and an agent is with them 24-7. There's also a guard on your mom's room 24-7."

"My parents-" said Chris, unable to contain his worries any longer. "Are they safe?"

Lewis spoke up. "We've got them covered, Chris. Rebecca and Steve are under twenty-four hour protection. Harold and Lynette turned down the protection, but we have the local PD doing a drive-by three times a day. So far there are no signs of trouble."

Chris clenched his hands in his lap. It was just like his father to turn down protection-but he'd hoped that Lynette would've been able to talk some sense into him. Still, none of it made Chris feel truly safe. Everson seemed to have claws everywhere. He could get to anyone . . .

"Kelsey." The name burst out of Chris's lips as soon as it rose in his mind.

Lewis and Burdette both looked at him curiously.

"Kelsey?" Burdette asked.

Chris swallowed hard, internally debating the merits of what he wanted to ask. He squeezed his lips together. Why should he be afraid to speak up? Yes, the possibility of Kelsey being in danger was slim, but as long as that possibility existed, he wouldn't rest easy. "Kelsey Gerard, my ex-girlfriend. She means a great deal to me. It's possible that Everson could try to get to me by targeting her. Would you please have someone from your agency check in on her to verify her safety?"

Lewis's eyes narrowed. "Why haven't you mentioned her before?"

"Because I never believed she would be under threat, before. But Everson has just proved how far he's willing to go." Chris shook his head. "No one associated with us is truly safe anymore. Will you please see to it that someone checks in on her?"

Burdette held Chris's gaze, a small smile on her face. She nodded. "Okay. I'll make sure it happens."

"Thank you."

Chris's gut still churned at the thought of anyone hurting his parents or Kelsey, but it eased his fear a little to have the federal marshals on the job.

***

Ben felt like his whole world was collapsing all over again-just like on that day the lead prosecutor was shot before his eyes.

His mother.

His mother.

Was there no low Everson wouldn't stoop to? No depths he wouldn't crawl through to save his own corrupt hide?

Ben couldn't deny that his first instinct today had been to call it quits. To throw in the towel. To admit that this fight wasn't worth it.

But as the conversation progressed around him, those feelings were replaced by shame. Quitting was exactly what Everson wanted him to do. That was the whole point of this attack.

Leslie would never let something like this stop her.

That thought stuck in his mind, lending him strength and determination.

He'd barely noticed when Lewis stepped into the kitchen to make a phone call, and looked up from his shocked trance when Lewis stepped back into the living room and said his name.

"Yes?" Ben asked, still trying to bring himself back into the present.

Lewis looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "We arranged something for you on our way down from Indy." He extended his hand, holding out a cheap-looking cell phone.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "What . . .?"

"It's a burner phone," replied Lewis. "And I just finished pre-programming a single phone number into it. You call that number and your mother will be one who answers. The agent supervising her protection picked up a burner phone for her, just for this one call. We're giving you five minutes. That's it."

A lump rose in Ben's throat. He had to remember this: for every greedy asswipe like Everson, there were a hundred normal, decent, good human beings like Lewis and Burdette. Like Ron and Andy. Like his mom. Like Leslie. And those were the people that Everson hurt with his drug manipulation schemes.

Those were the people Ben was fighting to protect.

"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Lewis smiled and nodded, handing over the phone. "Go on up to your room for some privacy. I'll wait on the stairs and give a holler when time's up. Remember-don't share any personal information. No hints about where you are, or what you've been doing that your mother might inadvertently pass along to the wrong person."

"I'll be careful."

Ben headed up to his room and closed the door softly behind him. He sat on his bed and took a few deep breaths. With a shaking hand, he hit the pre-set speed dial and lifted the phone to his ear.

His mom answered half-way through the second ring. "Hello?" Her voice sounded scratchy, like she had a cold, and out of breath. But it was definitely her.

"Mom. It's me."

"Oh my god, Benji. Oh my god."

Ben couldn't fight the moisture rising in his eyes and his shoulders started to shake. "I'm so sorry, mom. I'm so, so sorry."

"No." Her voice was firm and intense. "Don't apologize for this. Don't you dare apologize for this."

"Mom-?"

"You know as well as I do that you are in no way responsible for my accident. Don't back down. Don't let that man intimidate you."

Ben smiled through his tears. "I won't. I won't give up until he gets what he deserves. I promise."

"Good boy."

"Are you-are you going to be all right?"

"I will be if they ever let me leave this hospital and get back home. The food here is terrible." Her voice still sounded scratchy, but there was nothing weak or feeble about it.

"Don’t be in too much of a hurry. You need to take care of yourself. I want you back on your feet as soon as possible." Ben couldn't help but smile at the thought of what his mother must be doing to the poor doctors and nurses trying to take care of her.

"Believe me, that's exactly what I want. They tell me I can't go back to work for another six weeks. I think I'll aim for four."

"If anyone can manage it, it's you."

Her voice grew softer. "Honey-are you in a good place? Are you safe?"

Ben took another deep breath and wiped away the tears on his cheek. "I am. I'm in a really good place, full of really good people. And I'm probably a hell of a lot safer than you and Don and Lisa are, right now. I wish-" He almost bit back his words, knowing full well how his mom would react, but he had to say them. "I wish you guys would let the marshals take you away to a safe place for a few months. Just until after the trial."

His mom huffed. "We talked about this five months ago, and my answer hasn't changed. I am not letting that man bully me into leaving my life and my home. No way. But-but if Don and Lisa feel like they want the protection, I'll tell them they should take it."

Ben's eyebrows shot up. This was huge about-face.

"Lisa's expecting," said his mother quietly.

"Wow. God." Ben hadn't even known they were trying for kids, yet. He felt more tears rising, and blinked hard. "I-I-yeah. See if they'll take protection. We can't-I can't have them risking themselves right now. God. I'm so sorry."

"What did I say about apologizing?"

Ben shook his head. Mom never changed. Thank god. "Right. Got it."

"Don and Lisa understand why you're doing what you're doing. We're all behind you one-hundred percent. I'm proud of you. More proud than I've ever been in my entire life."

"Thank you," he said, on the verge of chocking up. Why did doing the right thing always have to be so goddamn hard? "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Benji. I love you, and I believe in you. Stay strong for me."

Lewis's voice called up from the stairwell. "Time's up, Ben. Sorry."

Ben swallowed and closed his eyes. "They're saying we have to hang up now."

"I knew this would be short. Don't worry about me. Don't worry about Don and Lisa. Just keep yourself safe and be ready to bring down that bastard. Got it?"

Ben smiled again. "Got it."

"I love you, baby."

"I love you."

Hanging up felt like a betrayal.

He headed slowly down the stairs and handed the phone back to Lewis. "Thank you. Really. Both of you."

Lewis nodded, and Burdette smiled. "It was the right thing to do."

"Yeah."

A few minutes later, after some final parting warnings, Burdette and Lewis left to head back to Indy.

Ben sank into his favorite armchair, closed his eyes and rubbed his head.

"I don't think I can sit still, after all this," said Chris, breaking the quiet. "Would you be up for some sparring?"

Ben opened his eyes and shook his head. "Not tonight. I don't have it in me."

"How about a run? A good long run always helps me re-center my emotions." Chris looked as antsy as Ben had ever seen him.

"No. Not for me. But you go on ahead. Do what you need to do."

Chris nodded and headed up to his room, babbling about the mental and emotional benefits of exercise. A few minutes later, after changing, he headed out on his run and left Ben in peace.

He'd thought the silence would be soothing, but the sound of his own frustrated, anxious thoughts bouncing around his head was overwhelming. He had to find a way to shut his brain down for just a few hours.

He thought he had the perfect solution. He hopped in his car and headed to Sullivan's, determined to get as drunk as possible.

***

Leslie loved surprises. But only the good kind.

For instance, she would have loved to be surprised by Ben telling her that he was willing to try out a relationship after all-even if it meant going long-distance in just over a month. (She still couldn't wrap her brain around the fact that she felt that way about a man she'd never really dated yet. But god, she really did.)

She would have loved being surprised by a festival-inspired promise from Paul to fund her lot 48 park project as a reward for her hard work.

She would have loved to be surprised by the news that Li'l Sebastian had just fathered a foal every bit as adorable and amazing as himself.

But being surprised by the news that Ben was freaking out because someone in his family had been in a terrible car accident was the opposite of the kind of surprises she loved.

Even more than she hated bad surprises, she hated not knowing how to help her friends. And right now she really didn't know how to help Ben.

After checking in on the crew managing that evening's free concert in the park and calling Ron to verify that the carnival was still running like clockwork, she looked at the time on her phone again. Seven forty-two.

It had been nearly five hours since she talked to Ben and Chris. She'd given them plenty of time, right? And she had said she'd check in later. Five hours absolutely counted as later.

Her only debate now was whether to call Ben directly, or to call Chris first.

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over her phone. Chris might be more clear and detached in conveying exactly what had happened. But she still wasn't terribly fond of Chris right now. And Ben was the friend who needed her.

That settled it.

She hit the speed dial for Ben.

She was certain she'd go to voicemail when, at the last moment, he answered. "Leslieeeeee. Hiiiiiii."

This wasn't his normal greeting. She scrunched her forehead. "Hi Ben. I've been worried about you all day and I wanted to check in and see how you're doing."

She heard a deep sigh. "You're so nice," he said. "Everyone here is soooo nice. I love this town. Because everyone is so nice. And I still don't get the pony thing. Really. It's just a small horse. What's the big deal? But the niceness balances out the weirdness." He paused. "What were we talking about?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Yep. I am. It's pretty cool."

Leslie clenched her teeth and searched her brain-what exactly was she supposed to do in a situation like this? Ben wasn't normally the type of guy to drink away his problems, so he must be hurting pretty bad. Maybe he needed a friend to come be with him. On the other hand, maybe she'd just be adding more tension to what must already be a very stressful time for him. Ugh. "Um-is Chris with you?"

Ben snorted. "No. I don't even think Chris knows how to get drunk. Too much alcohol would lit'rally kill him." He snickered at his attempted impression.

"So you're drinking alone?" People should never drink alone. Or least they should never get drunk alone. It wasn't safe.

"Nope. I'm with my old friend gin. My buddy beer wasn't getting the job done, but gin stepped up to the plate. I was actually thinking of getting really crazy and switching over to tequila. What do you think?" His words slurred together.

"I don't think that's a good idea for you. Are you at home?"

"Naw. No. 'M at Sullivan's."

God. She couldn't leave him alone at a bar in that state. "Okay. Forget about tequila, you should order a bottle of water."

"Hey," said Ben's voice, a little farther from the phone, "my friend says I should get a bottle of water. So do that for me, 'kay?" Then his voice got closer again. "The bartender says I have a smart friend. And you are. Smart."

"Thanks." Leslie squeezed her eyes shut for a minute, mentally reviewing the tasks that still needed doing for the festival tonight. It only took her a few seconds to conclude that a few texts to the right people could easily pass all of her remaining duties off to other people in her department. "Look, you stay there and drink your water. I'm coming to pick you up, okay?"

"Great! That's great. You're so nice."

"Yeah. See you soon."

As soon as she hung up she started hastily making all the necessary texts. The festival would be fine without her for one night.

She made it to Sullivan's at just after eight. Ben sat at the bar sipping his bottle of water. His face broke into a grin when he saw her. "Heyyyyy."

He stood up when she approached and immediately stumbled. Leslie grabbed at his chest to steady him, and he promptly draped his arms around her and drew her into a hug.

"My mom's in the hospital. Did Chris tell you my mom's in the hospital?"

"No. He didn't." Leslie's heart ached for him. When Chris had said a "family member" was injured, she'd assumed it must be a sibling or close cousin. But his mom? She'd didn't even want to think about what she'd be feeling if her mom was hospitalized after a major accident. "I'm so sorry, Ben. Is she-will she be-?" She had no idea how to finish the question.

He squeezed her tighter. "She said she's going to be all right. But she'll be in a-in a wheelchair. For, like, a month or something. And that's not all right, is it?"

"No. It's not."

"I don't know what to do," he said softly. "I want to do something, but I don't know what."

Leslie held onto him, rubbing his back. "Let's start by getting you home to sleep this off." She leaned back enough to look up into his eyes. "Have you had anything to eat since breakfast?"

"I think I maybe had some lunch. And then I had some nachos? I think?"

Leslie looked at the bartender, who nodded. "Yep. He had chicken nachos an hour ago when I told him he needed to eat something or I'd cut him off. But he's also had three beers and four gin and tonics. He's been knocking it back since just before five this afternoon."

"Ben, that wasn't very smart. You shouldn't drink alone. You should have called me, or Ron, or even Andy. You don't have to deal with this alone."

He looked down at his feet. "Sorry."

Leslie sighed. "Okay. Let's settle up your bill and get you home."

Ben slumped low in the passenger seat on the ride back to his place, staring listlessly out the window. Leslie reached over to take his hand, and he rolled his head to look over at her.

"I never thought something could happen to my mom. She's just-Mom. She's just there, and always will be. You know?" His voice shook a little.

"I get. I really do."

A few minutes later they pulled up alongside his condo complex. "Okay, let's get you inside." Leslie reached to unbuckle her seatbelt.

"Oh god." Ben moaned, rubbing his face. "I'll have to see Chris. And he'll make me drink one of his herb smoothies to help me sober up. And then he'll force me to talk about my feelings. Gooood. Bleh."

Leslie frowned. That did sound like something Chris would do. Maybe if she stayed over for a while? Or even . . . "Would you rather go back to my place? I can make you a sandwich and some coffee. I have a really cozy guest bed. You could stay all night."

Ben's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Absolutely. I don't mind at all." The thought of Ben sleeping over in her guest room made her insides a little fluttery. But she could do this. He needed her right now, and this was the least she could do.

"Okay."

Leslie smiled. "Okay. To my house, then."

Ben only wobbled slightly as she led him up to her door. Those nachos must have soaked up the alcohol better than she'd thought.

After getting him comfortable on her sofa, she headed for the kitchen. "So, I can make you a grilled cheese, or PB&J. I'm afraid that's all I have right now. I haven't had much time for grocery shopping, lately."

"What kind of jam do you have?" he called after her.

She glanced in her fridge. "Raspberry or plum."

"Raspberry. Peanut butter and raspberry sounds fantastic," he said.

After a few minutes of fumbling around and carefully checking to make sure her bread hadn't gone moldy yet, Leslie presented Ben with a tray. "Ta da! One peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich, a tall glass of milk, and strong coffee. It's just instant-that's all I could throw together this fast. Sorry."

"It looks great. Thank you. You're so nice."

She was getting a little tired of being called nice. Couldn't he mix in a "sexy"? Or even a "highly efficient and organized"?

She sat down beside him as he started devouring the sandwich with great gusto, washing it down with the milk.

"Mmmm," he said, licking away a milk mustache (which she never, before this moment, thought could be sexy. And she really shouldn't be thinking about sexiness right now, anyway. Not when he was so upset.). "This is the best peanut butter sandwich I've ever had. Seriously."

Leslie couldn't help but smile at his cuteness. "You're welcome."

She let him eat in silence, watching him finish the sandwich and milk before gulping down the coffee ridiculously fast.

He leaned back against the sofa cushions with a contented sigh. "That was perfect. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure."

He tipped his head on the cushion so that he was looking right at her.

She smiled.

He smiled back. "You're my best friend, right now. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Leslie held her breath as an army of dancing crickets bounced around her gut. Wow.

Before she could think of a way to respond to that, Ben looked out into space and frowned. "I need to pee."

Yeah. He was still drunk. Don't put too much stock in anything he says right now, she chided herself. "Do you remember where the bathroom is?"

"Isn't it just . . ." He pointed in the general direction of the main floor bathroom.

"Uh-huh." She helped him to his feet and watched after him to make sure he headed in the right direction.

Then she sank back onto the sofa with a sigh. Get your head on straight, Leslie. You're here to help a friend in need. The relationship stuff can wait until he's dealt with whatever he needs to deal with. Don't push him.

All the same, she found herself wishing she'd grabbed a beer while she was in the kitchen. She could really use something to help her relax right now.

She was about to hop up and grab one when Ben came striding back into the room. His face glistened with droplets of water-he must have been splashing his face-and his expression had morphed from his relaxed state to one of high anxiety.

"Ben?" Leslie rose to her feet.

"What the fuck am I doing?" he said, waving his hands at his sides. "My mother is in the hospital. She's in a freaking hip to toe cast for five weeks. And, and I'm over here feeling sorry for myself and getting drunk and eating peanut butter sandwiches when I should be doing something. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Leslie's eyebrows shot up. Apparently Ben's moods could be a little volatile when he was inebriated. "Hey, hey. Calm down."

"I can't calm down. My mom is in the hospital." He waved his hands a few more times for emphasis.

"Okay." Leslie reached up slowly to pat his shoulders. "She is in the hospital. And that's horrible. And I agree that you need to do something. But what you need most right now is to get some rest and sober up so that you can move onto doing something even more helpful tomorrow morning."

"Really?" Ben said with a look of pleading in his eyes.

"Really. I mean, you can't exactly fly to Minnesota this instant, can you?"

His shoulders slumped. "I guess not."

She gripped his arm and gently led him back to the sofa. "How about you sit back down, and we can make some plans. That's doing something, right?"

He sighed and nodded as he sat back down. "Yeah. Planning is something. It's good to plan. Plans lead to action."

"Yes. They do." Leslie sat back beside him and held his hand. "So, let's start planning out what you can do to help her once you get to Minnesota tomorrow."

"She told me not to come," Ben said in a mournful voice.

"What?" Leslie's eyes went wide. "Why would she do that?"

Ben rubbed his face with his free hand and sank back into the cushions again. "It's complicated."

"How about you uncomplicate it for me. We've got all night."

"Okay." Ben rubbed his face again. "I guess-well-my mom-we-" He fumbled for his words. "We always used to be close. My dad left when I was thirteen. He ran off with the twenty-two year old assistant manager of the Claire's Boutique that was a few stores down from the Sunglass Hut he managed in the local mall. It was a huge scandal. But Mom-she was amazing. I never saw her mope or cry or lose it. She probably did, at night, in her own room. But, uh, for me and my brother she always stayed so strong and so positive."

Leslie turned and leaned sideways against the sofa back so she could watch him as he spoke. This was the most he'd ever talked about his life before leaving Partridge for college.

"And a year later," he said, "when my dad showed back up wanting a relationship with his boys, she smiled through the whole thing and made it happen. Every other weekend, Wednesday evenings, and two weeks a summer. She never complained once. And when my brother said he didn't want to go, she insisted. She said boys needed a relationship with their father." He shook his head. "She was always so strong and put together. She never seemed indecisive or confused or scared. She always knew exactly what to say and do. It was pretty amazing." He took a deep breath. "And then when I broke my arm during the first game of the varsity baseball season, my dad acted like it was the end of the world. Like I'd never amount to anything because I'd failed at varsity sports. So I decided to run for mayor-partly to prove him wrong. Partly to impress a girl. Partly because of a dare. Lots of reasons. And it was idiotic, but my mom supported me one hundred percent."

He turned to meet Leslie's gaze and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "When I got impeached, my dad wanted to punish me for screwing up. But Mom stood by me and supported me. Until I kind of threw a fit and wrote an op-ed for the local paper blaming everyone but myself. That's when she grounded me." He smiled at the memory. "And I deserved it." Then his smile fell. "I've only talked to my dad twice since the day I was impeached. Once when he came over to talk to Mom about the Ben problem, and once when I graduated from college. That's it."

"I'm sorry," said Leslie.

"I'm not. He's an asshole. And I still had Mom. We used to talk two or three times a week, and I'd visit her a few times a year. I love my mom. She's the best."

"She sounds like it," said Leslie, sincerely. "I think I'd really like her."

"I think she'd like you, too," said Ben, looking away from her gaze, his voice tinged with wistfulness.

"So if you're so close, why'd she ask you not to come?" That seemed to be the matter at the heart of Ben's frustration. Time to sort it out once and for all.

"We've drifted apart over the past year," said Ben, still not meeting her eyes. "First the-the-the layoff. And then-then-then starting this new thing with Chris." He almost seemed to be struggling to call up the details of his recent life. He hadn't seemed that impaired just a minute earlier, but maybe he was getting tired.

"She wanted-" Ben hesitated. "She wanted-uh, uh, she didn't like my idea to start a consulting business with Chris. She didn't think it would work. Didn't think bouncing from job to job and place to place would be a good idea. We, uh, fought about it a few times. And I stopped calling her as often. And then after the-the shooting-" He seemed to shrink a little after saying the word. "I-I should have gone to her. I should have turned to her for help. But instead I just pulled more into myself and talked to her even less. It was a mistake."

"Traumatic events can really change people. You were going through a lot of change and a lot of anxiety. Don't be hard on yourself."

"But she's my mom," he said plaintively. "I've never not been close to her, until this past year. And now my little brother is the one there in Partridge taking care of her when he has a career and a wife to worry about, while I'm not much more than a glorified temp and I'm the oldest son and I should be the one to step up and help out. But I can't go because that's what he wants me t-because-because she told me not to come. That's why. Because she told me not to come." He trailed off the final sentence until he ended in a whisper.

Leslie scrunched her forehead. Something deeper seemed to be going on here, but Ben clearly didn't want to talk about it. When he first arrived in Pawnee she'd assumed that his reserve and coldness was all part of his tough-budget-buster act. And later she assumed it was his anxiety from the shooting. Now it seemed like he'd been going through a lot more over the past year than he'd ever admitted to her. Well, she couldn't help with what she didn't know. But she sure as hell planned on helping with what she did know. "Ben-something weird that people who are hurting sometimes do is say the opposite of what they mean, and I think that's what your mom is doing."

Ben frowned a little and shifted his eyes to look at her. "Huh?"

"Let me explain." Leslie took a deep breath. "I think your mom asked you not to come because she doesn't want you to come out of a sense of duty or obligation. But she really does want you to come. She just wants you to come because you care about her so much that you can't not come. And she's not sure you feel that way anymore."

"Of course I feel that way. You think she really thinks I don't love her like that anymore? She's my mom! Of course I love her enough to want to help her after her accident. Why-why-? Ugh." He let go of Leslie hands and rubbed his face."God, things are screwed up."

"Yes. Right now they are pretty screwed up. And it's probably your fault for pulling away from her when she just wanted to help you."

Ben dropped his hands and shook his head. "God, why would you even say that right now?"

Oops. Leslie plunged ahead, trying to get past her un-called-for bluntness. "Look, the point is, you made a mistake. We all make mistakes. But it's not too late to fix things. Believe me, I know. I've had to fix my share of mistakes and really almost anything can be repaired if you care enough and work hard enough."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really. I mean, I almost killed Andy with a backhoe last year and he threatened to sue the city-"

"You did?" Ben's eyes were wide.

"Yes, but I worked hard and talked to Andy we and solved the problem and now we're great friends. And you and your mom already love each other so much that it won't take sneaking around behind your lawyer's back to solve this problem. Just show up. Ignore what she told you, get on a plane to Minnesota and spend a week with her. I'm sure she'll forgive you the instant you walk through that hospital door." Leslie grabbed Ben's hand again and held on tight.

He sat up straighter and leaned toward her. "You really believe that will work?"

"I know it will work."

He let himself smile, and looked at her with wondering eyes. "I don't know how you manage to stay so positive and optimistic and confident about everything. It's like you only see the good in the world, and not the bad."

Leslie shrugged. "I see the bad. But I like to think that I can make it better."

Ben slowly shook his head, still smiling. "And that's why you're pretty much the best person I know."

Leslie felt her face getting warm. She flicked her eyes away from his gaze. "Ben, I'm not the best person you know. There are great people everywhere-"

"Not like you," he insisted. "Really. Good people aren't as common as you think. You have no idea how rare you really are." He leaned even closer to her. Now her whole body felt warm. Oh boy.

"You're a good person, too," she said.

He tipped his face down and shook his head. "Not like you."

She reached up and placed both her palms on his cheeks, lifting his face to meet her eyes. "Yes. You are. You're a very good man. One of the best I know. You came here struggling and suffering and you put aside those feelings to help save my town from ruin. And you cared enough about my little low-priority department to go out of your way to help us, even when I was being a jerk to you. And you're going to get on a plane tomorrow to go help your mom, and everything's going to work out. Because you're an amazing person. And I'm glad I have you in my life."

He raised his own hands to lightly grasp her wrists. He held her gaze with shining eyes for just a moment, and then closed his eyes and leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. Leslie blinked her own eyes shut and held her breath. She could hardly think-and god, she really shouldn't feel so turned on right now. She'd have to figure out how to reign that in, or-

"I really want to kiss you right now," Ben whispered.

God, yes. "Okay," she whispered back.

"Okay," he repeated and then his lips were on hers, moving slow and soft.

For a few minutes that was how things stayed-slow and soft. Like the making-out equivalent of wrapping up in a warm blanket and drinking a cup of hot cocoa. And good lord, it was great. For those few minutes, Leslie shut off her brain completely and simply reveled in the sensation.

Then, without any preamble, something shifted. Ben's kisses got deeper and more intense. His hands started caressing her body more boldly, cupping over her breasts and sliding down her thighs sending ripples of excitement surging through her. When his fingers started fumbling with the buttons on her blouse the realization hit her that this was actually, truly, finally happening. And, just for a moment, her rational brain woke up long enough for her to worry that if Ben wasn't still tipsy and if he wasn't so upset then maybe he'd make completely the opposite choice about this, and maybe it would be for the best if she put a stop to it. . .

That's when he finished on her buttons, slid his hands up her exposed midriff to her breasts and started rubbing her nipples with his thumbs while dipping his head to suck on the spot where her neck met her shoulder. And just like that, her rational brain turned back off.

After a few more minutes of increasingly needy caressing, Leslie stumbled gracelessly to her feet and tugged on Ben's hand. "Come on. Let's go upstairs."

It was time to take this show to the bedroom.

***

Ben stared at Leslie in awe as she took his hand and led him up her stairs. Her shirt sat in a heap somewhere behind them and one of her bra straps hung loose on her arm. She smiled down at him with lips swollen from his kisses, her disheveled hair framing her face like a halo.

It felt like something out of one of his dreams-or his fantasies. Like it couldn't be real-shouldn't be real. But it was.

Upstairs she turned to face him, drawing him forward by both hands as she backed into her bedroom.

Should he try to wake up from this? Should he let reality intrude?

Once they reached the foot of her bed she pulled his face down for another kiss.

Reality could wait until tomorrow.

She pulled out of the kiss and spoke, sounding a little breathless. "I'm on the pill, so we're covered on that front. And I'm clean. So if you're clean, I don't have to go digging under my sink for the condoms."

Apparently reality insisted on intruding, anyway.

"I'm-I'm clean." He stammered, his brain waking up from its blissful fog.

"Good. I trust you." She started planting a row of kisses up his neck, completely unaware of how her words hammered in his brain.

She shouldn't trust me. I don't deserve her trust. I've been lying to her every single day that we've known each other. I was still lying to her tonight.

He gripped her shoulders and took a step back.

Leslie looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Is something wrong?"

Ben struggled to find the right words. "I-just-I-"

"If you don't want to do this, we don't have to do this," said Leslie. "I won't push you into something you don't want to do."

"No, I want to," the words poured out of his mouth before he could stop them. God, he wanted to. He'd been wanting to for longer than he dared to admit. He took a step back toward her and cradled her face in his hand. "I want to. I just-I-I can't-I-"

"Hey," she said, closing the last of the distance between them and reaching up to caress his cheek. "You don't need to worry, tonight. If you want to be with me tonight, just be with me. Don't worry about what comes next. We'll figure that part out later."

A wave of soothing relief washed over him as he leaned against her. It was as if these were the words he'd been waiting to hear for months now. This was the permission he'd needed.

Without another word he tipped her head up for a kiss.

There was nothing stopping him now.

Just for tonight he could forget himself. He didn't have to be Ben Adams, former teen-mayor and corporate accountant-turned FBI informant. He didn't even have to be Ben Wyatt, hopelessly floundering budget consultant.

As they lost themselves in the simple pleasure of shedding clothes and exploring one another's bodies for the first time, he believed that just for one night he could forget all his worries and be nothing more than a man making love to the most amazing woman in the world.

For one brief moment, Leslie shocked him back to reality when her eyes locked in on the wide red scar on his shoulder, and her fingers reached out to trace it. He pulled her hand away and caught her lips for another kiss to distract her. Being reminded of where that scar came from was the last thing he needed tonight.

Before long the last traces of his troubled life vanished behind the pleasures of the moment. There was nothing left but the soft curves of her body, the taste of her on his lips and her sounds of pleasure filling his ears and wiping his mind of anything else.

Just for tonight, everything was perfect.

***

Leslie woke up hours before dawn to the sound of Ben's heavy breathing beside her in bed.

She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, squinting in the darkness to watch the outline of his body rise and fall with every breath. He sounded so peaceful.

She sucked on her bottom lip and swallowed. Her throat felt dry and scratchy. Usually, when she woke up early like this, she would hop up and start her day. But with Ben lying beside her she forced herself to stay put. He needed his rest, and she didn't want to wake him.

Her mind replayed the events of last night. Now that the glow of sex had diminished and her brain had kicked back in, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd done the right thing. He'd come to her needy and vulnerable. Had she taken advantage of him?

Her thoughts drifted back to the scar on his shoulder. As thick as a pencil, it stood out stark and red on his pale shoulder. The edges of the scar were ragged, like pages ripped from a magazine.

Ben had been so quick to pull her hand away and turn her attention elsewhere. In spite of all he'd shared with her, she couldn’t help but think that there were still large parts of him that he kept hidden from her and she didn't know why. How many more scars was he keeping to himself?

Leslie cared about Ben more than she'd cared about any man since Dave. But as she lay beside him in the dark, she couldn't help but wonder what she'd just gotten herself into.

TBC

Part 13