A Pawnee Christmas Carol 2/5
Title: A Pawnee Christmas Carol 2/5
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
The Ghost of Christmas Past:
It feels like he's been asleep for only a few minutes, but when Ben wakes up in his dark bedroom, there's just enough ambient light to see the silhouette of someone sitting up next to him in bed. Someone with very tall hair...and then that someone starts speaking.
"Okay, don't freak or anything, I'm just here to help you. That healthy guy in the tight pants should have explained everything. You and I are...going on a jooour-neeeey," he sings out the last line and Ben recognizes the voice as Jean-Ralphio--Tom's weird friend from Pawnee.
"Um," he starts to respond cautiously, as he sits up. Ben turns on the light and--yep, that's definitely Jean-Ralphio.
"So, here's the thing. We're going to head out and hit a Christmas past or two, check things out, see what's what, and then come back here. Then maybe we take a peek at strip club? I'll let you pick the year. You in, player?"
"I don't...really want to do any of that," Ben confesses uneasily. He looks at his bedside table, it's just after one in the morning. Merry Christmas, he thinks to himself.
"I diggity-dig. But oh, wait. Here's the thing, you don't really have a choice. So, let's go," Jean-Ralphio snuggles close to Ben. "Touch me."
"What?"
"You have to hold onto me to get this to work. To see your past."
Ben is still staring at him. Okay, now he's a little freaked out.
"Oh, no, no, no. I see the problem," Jean-Ralphio assures him. "Not anything south of the border. Just my arm will work."
Ben hesitantly touches Jean-Ralphio's elbow. The next thing he knows, they're standing in his old house, back in Partridge, Minnesota, Ben in his blue t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, Jean-Ralphio still in a mismatched suit and bright blue scarf.
The living room is spread out before them, the tall Christmas tree decorated in the corner where it always was growing up, the blinking angel on top. It's the tree topper that his dad steps on during a fight with Ben's mom soon, an afternoon of trading passive-aggressive and snide comments back and forth that finally erupts into a screaming match over the correct way to put away the Christmas decorations. He's so caught up in his memories and taking in all of details of his old house, that he doesn't even realize that his entire family is sitting just a few feet away in front of them--his parents, older brother Henry, little sister Stephanie, and of course, Ben.
He turns to Jean-Ralpio, "How does this work? Am I a ghost too?"
"No. This is...well, this is the past, I think? Yeah. And we're here from the future. No one's actually dead or anything," the Ghost of Christmas Past assures him. "At least, I don't think so. They don't really tell me anything like that. That would be kind of interesting if we were dead, wouldn't it? Oh wait, I'm a ghost. Okay, maybe I am dead. Boo!" Jean-Ralphio shouts, before dissolving into a fit of giggles behind his scarf.
"That was not at all helpful," Ben tells him, turning back to the family meal. He studies the scene for a minute or two before he realizes what he's looking at. "This is...wow. This is Christmas...1982?"
"Sure," Jean-Ralphio nods.
Ben points at his family, sitting around the table, not talking, and eating what looks like his mom's molasses and rosemary roast turkey.
"I'm pretty sure that I'm not having a good time. None of us are...what's the point of this? I mean, isn't the whole cliche here that my past Christmases were happy? That I somehow, over the years, turned bitter and miserly?" Ben asks Jean-Ralphio, just as his dad yells at his brother Henry for spilling his milk and his little sister Stephanie bursts into tears.
Young Ben just looks down at his plate and stares glumly at his mashed potatoes and gravy.
Adult Ben gestures towards his family around the Christmas table again and gives his companion an exasperated look before continuing. "I mean, this Christmas sucked. And the new year sucks--they tell us that they're separating soon. The next Christmas was awful as well, even without the yelling. All my mom did was cry--it was depressing and it bummed me out. Then there were more unmemorable Christmases after that, and then I was Mayor, and then I got impeached. How is this showing me anything about the Christmas spirit? This is...a how-to on how not to have Christmas spirit," Ben tells the ghost. "It doesn't seem like I ever had any Christmas spirit, so I'm not quite sure what you're trying to do."
Jean-Ralphio shrugs apologetically and then laughs nervously. "I don't know. So you were unhappy this Christmas, huh?"
Ben sighs. "Yes. That's what I just said."
"Didn't your daddy let you order porno off the TV, Ben-adryl?"
Ben looks as Jean-Ralphio incredulously, "I was 10."
"Furry porno?"
Ben rolls his eyes and then fixes his companion with an incredulous stare.
"Well, the next stop is coming up. Hold on tight, J-shot."
Before Ben can even remark further on this stop, they're in a nondescript motel room. This time, even Ben has no idea where it is.
"Whoa. This is depressing, what is this, what is this? What are we looking at here?" Jean-Ralphio asks, taking a sip from a snifter of Remy Martin he somehow accumulated while on their journey.
"Don't you know? You're the whole Ghost of Christmas Past. This is your thing."
"Who me?" Jean-Ralphio looks around. "Oh, no, no. That is probably way too much responsibility for me. I'm just like a spiritual guide animal or something. A doula for assisting with the birth your past holiday feels."
"That's more than a little disturbing." Ben tries to move away, but Jean-Ralphio puts his arm around Ben's shoulder and tugs him closer.
"This place is a dump, baby."
"It really is," Ben has to agree. The bedspread is avocado green and there are bland landscape paintings on the wall. They watch as an adult Christmas-Past Ben opens the door and steps inside. He has a take-out bag full of Chinese food which he starts to lay out on the small table.
"Oh, look. That's you. You're all big now."
"Okay, yeah. I remember this. It was three years ago," Ben sighs. "Do you really have no idea what's going on here?"
Jean-Ralphio grins and shakes his head from side-to-side.
"Chris and I are in Muncie, auditing. Chris is out with someone he met in town," Ben starts to describe the scene for his fairly useless Christmas Past ghost. "She actually invited me along for Christmas Eve at her family's house too, but um, that seemed awkward. I think she just felt sorry for me because all those people threw garbage at me after I shut down the community center classes. Anyway, I got take-out and was going to get on the Battlestar Galactica message boards in my motel room. I mean, my mom invited me home, of course, so did my sister, but..."
"Oh, little nerd-shot. That is so sad. No presents? No roast beef? No figgy-figgy puddin'?"
Ben studies himself sitting at the table, moving his old calculator out of the way, opening his laptop, and taking a bite of what he remembers as fairly unappetizing sweet and sour chicken.
He doesn't look depressed, but he certainly doesn't look happy either. He's just...numbers robot Ben in a horrible, run-down motel room on Christmas Eve. Maybe Jean-Ralphio has a point?
"It is pretty sad," Ben finally gives in and agrees. After all, as a child he didn't have much of a say in how his holidays were, but as a man in his mid-thirties? He could have done something more festive than this...looked up an old girlfriend, tagged along with Chris, volunteered...something.
"But hey, if it's 2008 here, that means you'll be in Pawnee soon, right?"
"Yeah," Ben says absentmindedly, as he continues to watch himself be alone on Christmas Eve with his sub-par take-out, his old Macbook, and Dr. Buttons for Christmas Eve company.
"And then you'll meet me. We can go to The Glitter Factory with Tommy."
"Um..."
"Hey, I know. Check this, once you get to Pawnee, I can introduce you to my sister, Mona-Lisa. I mean, she's a horrible person and all, but she'd totally go to town on you."
"Oh. No, that's--"
Jean-Ralphio interrupts Ben with, "Buck up, J-shot, things are about to get baller."
Part 3: The Ghost of Christmas Present
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
The Ghost of Christmas Past:
It feels like he's been asleep for only a few minutes, but when Ben wakes up in his dark bedroom, there's just enough ambient light to see the silhouette of someone sitting up next to him in bed. Someone with very tall hair...and then that someone starts speaking.
"Okay, don't freak or anything, I'm just here to help you. That healthy guy in the tight pants should have explained everything. You and I are...going on a jooour-neeeey," he sings out the last line and Ben recognizes the voice as Jean-Ralphio--Tom's weird friend from Pawnee.
"Um," he starts to respond cautiously, as he sits up. Ben turns on the light and--yep, that's definitely Jean-Ralphio.
"So, here's the thing. We're going to head out and hit a Christmas past or two, check things out, see what's what, and then come back here. Then maybe we take a peek at strip club? I'll let you pick the year. You in, player?"
"I don't...really want to do any of that," Ben confesses uneasily. He looks at his bedside table, it's just after one in the morning. Merry Christmas, he thinks to himself.
"I diggity-dig. But oh, wait. Here's the thing, you don't really have a choice. So, let's go," Jean-Ralphio snuggles close to Ben. "Touch me."
"What?"
"You have to hold onto me to get this to work. To see your past."
Ben is still staring at him. Okay, now he's a little freaked out.
"Oh, no, no, no. I see the problem," Jean-Ralphio assures him. "Not anything south of the border. Just my arm will work."
Ben hesitantly touches Jean-Ralphio's elbow. The next thing he knows, they're standing in his old house, back in Partridge, Minnesota, Ben in his blue t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, Jean-Ralphio still in a mismatched suit and bright blue scarf.
The living room is spread out before them, the tall Christmas tree decorated in the corner where it always was growing up, the blinking angel on top. It's the tree topper that his dad steps on during a fight with Ben's mom soon, an afternoon of trading passive-aggressive and snide comments back and forth that finally erupts into a screaming match over the correct way to put away the Christmas decorations. He's so caught up in his memories and taking in all of details of his old house, that he doesn't even realize that his entire family is sitting just a few feet away in front of them--his parents, older brother Henry, little sister Stephanie, and of course, Ben.
He turns to Jean-Ralpio, "How does this work? Am I a ghost too?"
"No. This is...well, this is the past, I think? Yeah. And we're here from the future. No one's actually dead or anything," the Ghost of Christmas Past assures him. "At least, I don't think so. They don't really tell me anything like that. That would be kind of interesting if we were dead, wouldn't it? Oh wait, I'm a ghost. Okay, maybe I am dead. Boo!" Jean-Ralphio shouts, before dissolving into a fit of giggles behind his scarf.
"That was not at all helpful," Ben tells him, turning back to the family meal. He studies the scene for a minute or two before he realizes what he's looking at. "This is...wow. This is Christmas...1982?"
"Sure," Jean-Ralphio nods.
Ben points at his family, sitting around the table, not talking, and eating what looks like his mom's molasses and rosemary roast turkey.
"I'm pretty sure that I'm not having a good time. None of us are...what's the point of this? I mean, isn't the whole cliche here that my past Christmases were happy? That I somehow, over the years, turned bitter and miserly?" Ben asks Jean-Ralphio, just as his dad yells at his brother Henry for spilling his milk and his little sister Stephanie bursts into tears.
Young Ben just looks down at his plate and stares glumly at his mashed potatoes and gravy.
Adult Ben gestures towards his family around the Christmas table again and gives his companion an exasperated look before continuing. "I mean, this Christmas sucked. And the new year sucks--they tell us that they're separating soon. The next Christmas was awful as well, even without the yelling. All my mom did was cry--it was depressing and it bummed me out. Then there were more unmemorable Christmases after that, and then I was Mayor, and then I got impeached. How is this showing me anything about the Christmas spirit? This is...a how-to on how not to have Christmas spirit," Ben tells the ghost. "It doesn't seem like I ever had any Christmas spirit, so I'm not quite sure what you're trying to do."
Jean-Ralphio shrugs apologetically and then laughs nervously. "I don't know. So you were unhappy this Christmas, huh?"
Ben sighs. "Yes. That's what I just said."
"Didn't your daddy let you order porno off the TV, Ben-adryl?"
Ben looks as Jean-Ralphio incredulously, "I was 10."
"Furry porno?"
Ben rolls his eyes and then fixes his companion with an incredulous stare.
"Well, the next stop is coming up. Hold on tight, J-shot."
Before Ben can even remark further on this stop, they're in a nondescript motel room. This time, even Ben has no idea where it is.
"Whoa. This is depressing, what is this, what is this? What are we looking at here?" Jean-Ralphio asks, taking a sip from a snifter of Remy Martin he somehow accumulated while on their journey.
"Don't you know? You're the whole Ghost of Christmas Past. This is your thing."
"Who me?" Jean-Ralphio looks around. "Oh, no, no. That is probably way too much responsibility for me. I'm just like a spiritual guide animal or something. A doula for assisting with the birth your past holiday feels."
"That's more than a little disturbing." Ben tries to move away, but Jean-Ralphio puts his arm around Ben's shoulder and tugs him closer.
"This place is a dump, baby."
"It really is," Ben has to agree. The bedspread is avocado green and there are bland landscape paintings on the wall. They watch as an adult Christmas-Past Ben opens the door and steps inside. He has a take-out bag full of Chinese food which he starts to lay out on the small table.
"Oh, look. That's you. You're all big now."
"Okay, yeah. I remember this. It was three years ago," Ben sighs. "Do you really have no idea what's going on here?"
Jean-Ralphio grins and shakes his head from side-to-side.
"Chris and I are in Muncie, auditing. Chris is out with someone he met in town," Ben starts to describe the scene for his fairly useless Christmas Past ghost. "She actually invited me along for Christmas Eve at her family's house too, but um, that seemed awkward. I think she just felt sorry for me because all those people threw garbage at me after I shut down the community center classes. Anyway, I got take-out and was going to get on the Battlestar Galactica message boards in my motel room. I mean, my mom invited me home, of course, so did my sister, but..."
"Oh, little nerd-shot. That is so sad. No presents? No roast beef? No figgy-figgy puddin'?"
Ben studies himself sitting at the table, moving his old calculator out of the way, opening his laptop, and taking a bite of what he remembers as fairly unappetizing sweet and sour chicken.
He doesn't look depressed, but he certainly doesn't look happy either. He's just...numbers robot Ben in a horrible, run-down motel room on Christmas Eve. Maybe Jean-Ralphio has a point?
"It is pretty sad," Ben finally gives in and agrees. After all, as a child he didn't have much of a say in how his holidays were, but as a man in his mid-thirties? He could have done something more festive than this...looked up an old girlfriend, tagged along with Chris, volunteered...something.
"But hey, if it's 2008 here, that means you'll be in Pawnee soon, right?"
"Yeah," Ben says absentmindedly, as he continues to watch himself be alone on Christmas Eve with his sub-par take-out, his old Macbook, and Dr. Buttons for Christmas Eve company.
"And then you'll meet me. We can go to The Glitter Factory with Tommy."
"Um..."
"Hey, I know. Check this, once you get to Pawnee, I can introduce you to my sister, Mona-Lisa. I mean, she's a horrible person and all, but she'd totally go to town on you."
"Oh. No, that's--"
Jean-Ralphio interrupts Ben with, "Buck up, J-shot, things are about to get baller."
Part 3: The Ghost of Christmas Present