That One Time Ben Ran Into Mark Brendanawicz in a Store
Title: That One Time Ben Ran Into Mark Brendanawicz in a Store
Rating: G
Summary: See title.
After giving a wave through the large window to Leslie and this other two children out in the car, Ben lowers his son to the ground and then holds his hand as they walk to the non-food aisle looking for something to help clean up a surprisingly messy juice box spill.
The small country store is deserted, so he lets go of the little hand, and watches the boy wander over to a stack of crates on the floor nearby that are overflowing with carrots and broccoli crowns. Ben grins before he turns to reach for a single roll of very overpriced paper towels. As he does, a man about his age walks past quickly.
It takes Ben a minute to realize who it is, because although the face seems very familiar, he just can’t place it at first. In fact, they both kind of do a double-take as he passes by. But then Ben makes the connection just as the other man turns around suddenly-distinctly remembers sitting in a conference room with him discussing a buy-out offer right around the time the Pawnee government shut down.
Ben also remembers being incredibly grateful that the meeting was quick and that this government employee…wasn’t a huge pain in the ass.
"Hey. You worked at City Hall, in Pawnee." There’s a pause. "One of the state auditors."
"I did," Ben confirms. "Mark, right? You were the City Planner before you left?" Of course it’s Mark Brendanawicz. Ben knows that for sure now.
The Mark Brendanawicz that he later learned his wife was hung up on for a number of years. The Mark Brendanawicz that he’s pretty sure Andy would inappropriately point out is Ben’s Eskimo brother-and also probably mention that Ann and Leslie are Eskimo sisters. Just like Ann and April. Okay, wow. Now that he thinks about it, their circle of friends really has a…history. And also, he probably watched The League way too much when he was living with April and Andy.
"Yeah," the other man responds, holding his hand out. "I was at Norton Construction before I moved to Indy a few years ago."
"Ben. Ben Wyatt." As he says this, he feels the reassurance of little arms wrap around his legs as he shakes Mark’s hand.
"That’s right," Mark agrees. "Ben Wyatt. Are you in town auditing or something?"
"Oh, no. I don’t do that anymore. Just driving through after a weekend at the lake house. I actually still live in Pawnee. We’re on our way home now."
"Really?" Mark looks surprised.
He’s just about to ask Mark what he’s doing in Heltonville, Indiana, at this incredibly small town market near Lake Monroe, when he feels a number of soft but incessant tugs on his jeans. He looks down to where his son is now standing between him and Mark, with his hands held up high-a bright orange carrot gripped in one of his little palms.
"Daddy!" At the command for a hug, Ben reaches down to lift this three-year old (and his carrot), up and into his arms.
"Wow. You have a kid," Mark comments with a surprised look on his face.
"I do," Ben responds just as the little boy says something quietly and then hides his face against his father’s shoulder.
"He’s shy," Ben tells Mark with a smile.
"Is his name Artie?"
"Oh, no he-"
"I thought he said-" Mark starts.
"Yeah. He did. But he just got glasses a few days ago and he named them Artichoke. Artie for short," Ben pauses to smile. "This one loves naming things…and vegetables. Despite his mother’s best efforts."
He knows this is the point in the conversation where he should say: Oh, speaking of my wife and the mother of my children, I think you know her. Leslie Knope? Yeah. She’s out in our practical, yet stylish mini-van with our other two kids. Triplets. Yep…I got her super pregnant. From all of the sex. Well, probably not that last part.
But…if he’s being honest with himself, Ben is feeling-not necessarily jealous of Mark, but incredibly protective of both Leslie and the kids right now when it comes to Leslie’s ex…whatever-he-is. As he thinks about his wife, son, and daughter sitting out in the parking lot, laughing and singing Freddy Spaghetti songs about egg noodles and linguine, or the child in his arms, Ben realizes that he does not want to share them with Mark. At all. Not even briefly for a quick hello after a chance encounter in small Indiana town, in the middle of nowhere.
Sure, he’s probably a nice enough guy, but Mark casually passed up everything that Ben can’t even begin to imagine living without. And although it worked out great for Ben, at one time this man rejected Leslie and made her feel really bad.
Okay, so maybe he kind of wants to punch him.
Ben realizes that Mark is staring at him expectantly. He starts to make hesitant introductions but thankfully he’s interrupted before he can even mention his son’s (and not his son’s glasses) actual name.
"Mark! Come on! I want to get back Indianapolis before dark. Help me find the Benadryl!” A tall, very attractive brunette, who can’t be more than thirty, strides towards them but then sighs loudly before turning down the next aisle, scratching her red, bare arm violently as she goes.
"Sorry. That’s my girlfriend. I should…" Mark starts backing away. "We should catch up sometime, I dunno…hey. Do you know Leslie Knope? In the Pawnee Parks department?"
Before Ben can respond there’s another loud shout. “God! Come on already!”
At the sound of his girlfriend’s impatient words, Mark gives an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. I gotta go. She’s already kind of pissed at me. We went camping and she’s allergic to something that bit her. Nice to see you again Ben. Artie,” he adds with a nod, before walking quickly towards his obviously irritated and itchy companion.
"Let’s get mommy a carrot. His name is green bean,” his small son whispers to him, as Ben grabs the package of paper towels from the shelf with a laugh, holding it and the little boy with the green glasses tightly in his arms, as he makes his way to the cash register.
"Okay," Ben agrees, giving the top of his son's head a light kiss, "She’ll like that."
Rating: G
Summary: See title.
After giving a wave through the large window to Leslie and this other two children out in the car, Ben lowers his son to the ground and then holds his hand as they walk to the non-food aisle looking for something to help clean up a surprisingly messy juice box spill.
The small country store is deserted, so he lets go of the little hand, and watches the boy wander over to a stack of crates on the floor nearby that are overflowing with carrots and broccoli crowns. Ben grins before he turns to reach for a single roll of very overpriced paper towels. As he does, a man about his age walks past quickly.
It takes Ben a minute to realize who it is, because although the face seems very familiar, he just can’t place it at first. In fact, they both kind of do a double-take as he passes by. But then Ben makes the connection just as the other man turns around suddenly-distinctly remembers sitting in a conference room with him discussing a buy-out offer right around the time the Pawnee government shut down.
Ben also remembers being incredibly grateful that the meeting was quick and that this government employee…wasn’t a huge pain in the ass.
"Hey. You worked at City Hall, in Pawnee." There’s a pause. "One of the state auditors."
"I did," Ben confirms. "Mark, right? You were the City Planner before you left?" Of course it’s Mark Brendanawicz. Ben knows that for sure now.
The Mark Brendanawicz that he later learned his wife was hung up on for a number of years. The Mark Brendanawicz that he’s pretty sure Andy would inappropriately point out is Ben’s Eskimo brother-and also probably mention that Ann and Leslie are Eskimo sisters. Just like Ann and April. Okay, wow. Now that he thinks about it, their circle of friends really has a…history. And also, he probably watched The League way too much when he was living with April and Andy.
"Yeah," the other man responds, holding his hand out. "I was at Norton Construction before I moved to Indy a few years ago."
"Ben. Ben Wyatt." As he says this, he feels the reassurance of little arms wrap around his legs as he shakes Mark’s hand.
"That’s right," Mark agrees. "Ben Wyatt. Are you in town auditing or something?"
"Oh, no. I don’t do that anymore. Just driving through after a weekend at the lake house. I actually still live in Pawnee. We’re on our way home now."
"Really?" Mark looks surprised.
He’s just about to ask Mark what he’s doing in Heltonville, Indiana, at this incredibly small town market near Lake Monroe, when he feels a number of soft but incessant tugs on his jeans. He looks down to where his son is now standing between him and Mark, with his hands held up high-a bright orange carrot gripped in one of his little palms.
"Daddy!" At the command for a hug, Ben reaches down to lift this three-year old (and his carrot), up and into his arms.
"Wow. You have a kid," Mark comments with a surprised look on his face.
"I do," Ben responds just as the little boy says something quietly and then hides his face against his father’s shoulder.
"He’s shy," Ben tells Mark with a smile.
"Is his name Artie?"
"Oh, no he-"
"I thought he said-" Mark starts.
"Yeah. He did. But he just got glasses a few days ago and he named them Artichoke. Artie for short," Ben pauses to smile. "This one loves naming things…and vegetables. Despite his mother’s best efforts."
He knows this is the point in the conversation where he should say: Oh, speaking of my wife and the mother of my children, I think you know her. Leslie Knope? Yeah. She’s out in our practical, yet stylish mini-van with our other two kids. Triplets. Yep…I got her super pregnant. From all of the sex. Well, probably not that last part.
But…if he’s being honest with himself, Ben is feeling-not necessarily jealous of Mark, but incredibly protective of both Leslie and the kids right now when it comes to Leslie’s ex…whatever-he-is. As he thinks about his wife, son, and daughter sitting out in the parking lot, laughing and singing Freddy Spaghetti songs about egg noodles and linguine, or the child in his arms, Ben realizes that he does not want to share them with Mark. At all. Not even briefly for a quick hello after a chance encounter in small Indiana town, in the middle of nowhere.
Sure, he’s probably a nice enough guy, but Mark casually passed up everything that Ben can’t even begin to imagine living without. And although it worked out great for Ben, at one time this man rejected Leslie and made her feel really bad.
Okay, so maybe he kind of wants to punch him.
Ben realizes that Mark is staring at him expectantly. He starts to make hesitant introductions but thankfully he’s interrupted before he can even mention his son’s (and not his son’s glasses) actual name.
"Mark! Come on! I want to get back Indianapolis before dark. Help me find the Benadryl!” A tall, very attractive brunette, who can’t be more than thirty, strides towards them but then sighs loudly before turning down the next aisle, scratching her red, bare arm violently as she goes.
"Sorry. That’s my girlfriend. I should…" Mark starts backing away. "We should catch up sometime, I dunno…hey. Do you know Leslie Knope? In the Pawnee Parks department?"
Before Ben can respond there’s another loud shout. “God! Come on already!”
At the sound of his girlfriend’s impatient words, Mark gives an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. I gotta go. She’s already kind of pissed at me. We went camping and she’s allergic to something that bit her. Nice to see you again Ben. Artie,” he adds with a nod, before walking quickly towards his obviously irritated and itchy companion.
"Let’s get mommy a carrot. His name is green bean,” his small son whispers to him, as Ben grabs the package of paper towels from the shelf with a laugh, holding it and the little boy with the green glasses tightly in his arms, as he makes his way to the cash register.
"Okay," Ben agrees, giving the top of his son's head a light kiss, "She’ll like that."