June Drabbles II
Rating: G-R
Timeline: All over the place
Summary: 11. Just kiss me, we can talk later, 12. Angry over board games, 13. Tears after the Smallest Park, 14. Leslie and Ben celebrate the anniversary of their Paris trip, 15. Leslie and Sonia watching CSPAN, 16. Ben having problems with the DC interns, 17. Morning pancakes, 18. Pregnancy dreams/babies, 19. Sonia breaks an owl, 20. Ben yells at Wesley, 21. Ben on Morphine
Notes: I had to break these up because there were too many!
11. "Just kiss me. We can talk later."
Of course Ben’s really not great with surprises, but it’s not like she’s throwing a t-shirt at him, setting up a confetti bomb, or sneaking up on him and tapping him on the shoulder.
She’s just gently surprising him, Leslie thinks as she quietly lets herself into the house. Actually, she surprised herself. She’s still not sure what made her decide to do it, it just seemed like a fun idea while she was at the salon.
Besides, they’re home in Pawnee for the holidays and if he thinks it’s weird or she decides she doesn’t like it, she can always dye it back before they return to DC.
“That you, babe?” Ben asks, and it sounds like he’s in the dining room so she heads that way.
“Yeah.”
He’s still got his attention focused on his laptop and when he finally looks up at her, his mouth kind of falls open a little and his eyes widen.
“What do you think?” She twirls around so he can see all of her now dark strawberry-blonde hair, hoping the golden copper highlights look just as nice inside as they did outside in the winter sun.
“Um. Wow.” He gets up and walks over to her. “It’s red. I mean…wow.”
“Do you think it will confuse the kids? I mean, it’s not super different, but it’s definitely not the same. What if they don’t know who I am?” She frowns. “Okay. I didn’t think about that.”
Ben smiles as he runs his fingers softly through her hair. “They’ll know who you are.”
“But it’s a change, and we’ve already had so many-”
“You look so beautiful,” he tells Leslie, pulling her closer. “Just kiss me. We can talk later.”
12. Angry over board games
“Are you really mad?” Ben asks, finally coming down the stairs after getting the triplets all settled into bed.
After dinner, there had been a bath and then pajamas, and then a board game before the kids’ bedtime. And after the usual shower of hugs and kisses from both Leslie and Ben, they were so tired it only took him reading one story before all three five-year olds were soundly asleep.
As he heads towards the kitchen, it looks like Leslie is annoyed-eating chocolate kisses from the hiding place in the cabinet behind her Pawnee Goddesses mug, while also unloading the dishwasher.
“No,” she responds icily, unwrapping another kiss and popping it in her mouth before putting the last of the silverware away.
“Babe. I won fair and square. Stephen rolled the dice for me the last time and I already had four continents-”
She interrupts him with a loud, exaggerated scoffing noise.
“What? You think he cheated?”
“Well, you two were whispering an awful lot during the game.”
Ben laughs. “It was not about strategy. Trust me. He was telling me about how much he likes cupcakes. And dinosaurs. If anything, he was slowing me down,” Ben jokes.
Leslie tries to maintain her scowl but she ends up laughing right along with him. “Well, he makes a good point there…about the cupcakes. Well, and also dinosaurs.”
Ben nods, walking over towards her. “Besides, they all took turns rolling the dice for us. Sonia and Wes had just as many turns, Stephen happened to get lucky. Why don’t we just forget all about the game and have a nice evening now that everyone who is under three feet tall is safely in bed for the night,” Ben tells her, taking the silver wrapper from her, rolling it up into a little ball, and shoving it into his jeans’ pocket.
“Okay,” Leslie agrees, settling back into his arms as he holds her close, Ben’s arms crossed around her waist.
“We’ll just forget all about how I basically wiped the floor with you and achieved world domination,” he whispers in her ear, unable to help himself.
“Ben!” She tries to move out of his grasp, but he holds her close.
“How I won Risk because my armies were superior.” With that declaration, he starts tickling her, laughing as she squirms and giggles. “And how, I am the Ultimate Risk Champion of the Universe. Say it.”
“No! Ugh. You and your ultimate big head are the worst,” she tells him, even though Leslie’s still smiling when she spins around and leans in for a non-chocolate variety kiss.
“The worst, huh?”
“Yes,” Leslie confirms, letting Ben lead her over to the couch by the hand. “I demand a rematch, Peru. And believe me, I will kick your ass. I. Will. Crush. You.”
“I think a rematch can be arranged, Denmark. Although, I wouldn’t count on crushing anything,” Ben says, smiling at his wife and pulling her down next to him. “But, as tonight’s victor, I’m going to demand some cuddling now.”
Leslie rolls her eyes and then stretches forward to open up the small drawer in the coffee table.
“How about this. We have a quick game of War,” she says, pulling out a deck of cards. “And whoever wins gets to be Ultimate Champion of the Universe.”
“But what about the cuddling?” Ben asks, watching as Leslie shuffles the deck.
“Oh, don’t worry, babe. I’m going to quickly kick your ass at this and then I’m going to cuddle the hell out of you. Naked in bed.”
13. Tears after The Smallest Park
It’s right when Ben is pushing into her, and then keeping what he hopes is a slow, sexy rhythm that Leslie kind of starts crying again, right when he’s inside her after so, so long of missing her, and at first Ben doesn’t quite know what to do.
This whole night has been a complete tornado of emotions-first despair, then confusion, and then absolute relief when she had said “screw it” while standing in their park. They barely even stopped holding hands (thank god his Saturn isn’t a stick), all the way to her house.
And now when they’re finally back in her bed, clothes discarded and scattered around the room, she’s crying again. Crying a lot.
When he stills and is about to pull back, maybe stop altogether so they can talk, Leslie just clings around his hips tighter, refusing to let him go.
“Honey, it’s okay. We can-”
He watches as she shakes her head and tries to smile through her tears. Tries to stop crying so she can talk. “No. I don’t want you to stop. Don’t stop again.”
Ben flattens out on top of her, still supporting his weight on his forearms, and kisses her. Pulls almost all the way out of her warmth and then thrusts back in, determined to never leave again. When Ben rocks his hips against Leslie’s, he listens to her breath catch.
“I’m not going to stop,” he promises.
14. Leslie and Ben celebrate the anniversary of their Paris trip
She waits until Ben turns his key all the way in the lock, twists the handle, and is halfway into the house before Leslie yells, “SURPRISE!” (the français pronunciation, of course)…loudly.
And sure, she kind of knew he might jump (or scream), but really, how can you not do something big when the anniversary is such an important one?
He shouts out and all the mail Ben was carrying inside goes fluttering down onto the floor.
“Oh my god.”
“Hi!” Leslie greets her husband with a smile. “It’s the-”
“Oh my god,” Ben repeats. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What…is happening?”
Leslie watches as Ben slowly calms down, looks around, and realizes what she has done.
Mainly, that their living room has been transformed into a Parisian bistro. Just like the one they sat outside of one afternoon-Café de la Nouvelle Mairie, as they drank cappuccinos and ate pastries. And then at her request Ben went back inside and bought more pastries.
And a bagful of macaroons for later that night in their hotel room.
“I…um, wow. You did all this?”
“I did,” Leslie says with a proud nod.
There are Parisian-themed posters on the walls of their living room, a small bistro table in the center of the room with the bay tree and planter pulled in from the deck, now outfitted with little twinkling lights. It’s really some of her best work.
It’s almost as amazing as Ann’s going away party a couple of years ago. Although, honestly, nothing she ever plans will be as amazing and awesome as that.
But this is close.
“Oh, the babies are all wearing striped shirts, berets and…wait. Do they have mustaches?” Ben looks puzzled as he walks over to where their three fourteen-month old triplets are and examines his toddlers’ happy faces. "Are they chocolate?“
“Yes. I painted them on with chocolate syrup. I figured they could just lick them off afterwards.”
“Sonia has a mustache?” He turns to look at her.
“Girls can have a mustache too, Ben.”
“Sure,” he says, nodding.
“Last year was really crazy.”
“Yes,” Ben agrees, lifting one of his children up out of the playpen (toddler-jail, as Andy calls it) and walks over to the bay tree, showing Wesley all the little lights up close.
“I was-”
“A human milk machine?” Ben guesses.
She nods. On the date of the first anniversary of their Paris trip, they had three eight-week old babies, two grandmothers, and a houseful of friends and family wandering in and out. And pretty much all Leslie did was sleep, eat, and lactate.
Oh, but she had started planning this anniversary surprise even back then.
It’s definitely a special occasion - the anniversary of their Paris trip after she had just lost the recall, when they had left Pawnee and gone to France where they forgot about Indiana, laughed, drank wine, ate eclairs, and had sex. A lot of sex. Including him fingering her against a building after dinner one night and Leslie fondling him in the stairwell of their hotel.
It was a lot of fun. Very European.
“So, tonight, we’re having boeuf bourguignon and Grand Marnier soufflé just like at Joséphine Chez Dumonet, I have a CD of accordion music all ready to go, a bottle of red wine, and-”
Leslie is interrupted by the doorbell.
“My mom is watching the kids tonight,” she says, opening the door for Marlene.
“Hi Mom.”
“Hi, honey,” Marlene responds as she walks inside. She takes Wesley from Ben and then looks around. “Why do my grandchildren all have have mustaches?”
“It’s okay,” Ben tells her. “They’re chocolate.”
After they get Sonia, Wesley, and Stephen all safely into their car seats, with all of their bags in the car, and mustaches wiped off (at her mom’s party pooper-esque insistence), Leslie and Ben end up back inside and Leslie starts the music while Ben pours two glasses of wine.
“Boeuf bourguignon, huh?”
“Yep. And then we’re going to go put this lock out on our fence,” she says, picking up a small padlock from the table that says Leslie and Ben with a little red heart, just like the one they left in Paris.
“And then we’re going to go upstairs and I’m going to jump your bones, monsieur.”
“Or,” Ben starts, walking over and handing her a glass of wine. They clink stemware. “We could let the stew wait for awhile, go over to the couch, and hardcore make out. I could eat you just like a delicious chocolate croissant.”
“Tu mange moi?” She asks, grinning as her leads her to the couch.
“Oui,” Ben confirms, pulling Leslie down onto the cushions beside him.
15. Leslie and Sonia watching CSPAN
When Ben wakes up at three-thirty in the morning, he’s only mildly surprised to see that Leslie’s side of the bed is empty. His first stop is her office/craft room where everything is in its usual crazy piles of chaos, which his wife swears she has a system for (he doesn’t entirely believe her).
Next, it’s the kids’ room. Wesley and Stephen are both asleep and Ben makes sure to tuck the covers around each little boy and give both of his three-year old sons a kiss on the forehead before he steps out into the hallway, leaving the bedroom door ajar. And then he starts the hunt for his wife and daughter.
It’s not a long search.
They are both downstairs, Leslie lying on the couch, Sonia lying on her mother, her little face turned to the side against Leslie’s chest. There’s an afghan pulled up around them and Leslie’s laptop is open on the coffee table and streaming CSPAN quietly.
“Hey,” he says softly, sitting down in the chair.
Leslie’s eyes open slowly and when she sees him, she smiles. “Hi,” she whispers back, before placing her hand on the back of Sonia’s head.
“What are you doing?” Ben asks, trying not to laugh.
“I was doing some work, then I decided to watch some CSPAN. They were going to rerun that First Ladies discussion that I like at three.”
“Hmmm, okay. Because it kind of looked like you were sleeping. And how did-”
“She came down and found me. She wanted to cuddle. And then I guess I was more tired than I thought,” she says, accenting her words with a yawn.
Leslie had just gotten home yesterday from a two-day trip to Badlands National Park for a meeting on natural resource data collection. And while all the kids miss her when she’s away, Sonia always seems extra clinging when her mom gets back home.
When Leslie travels (which thankfully isn’t all that often), Ben tries to plan fun activities to keep everyone happy and occupied, but there are always a few extra tears and meltdowns. Leslie has also confessed that she never sleeps as well in Park housing as she does at home in her own bed, right beside Ben with their little monsters just down the hall.
“Why don’t I take her upstairs and we go back to bed?”
“Mmmmm, in a bit. Right now it’s too comfy. Come cuddle with us.”
Ben smiles and watches as Leslie sits up a bit, careful to cradle Sonia’s head and he takes the invitation to sit down. She lays back, her head now in his lap. Leslie turns slightly so she’s on her side, Sonia protected by both Leslie and Ben’s arms between her little body and the edge of the sofa.
“So which First Ladies are we learning about?” Ben asks. When she doesn’t answer right away, he adds, “Babe?”
Instead of a reply Leslie sort of snores and rubs her cheek against his thigh, sighing contentedly in her sleep.
16. Ben having problems with the DC interns
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“What?” He asks, stopping his movements to look at Leslie. “No. Nothing. I, um, I don’t-”
“Is the hat too much?”
Ben studies the screen and takes in his girlfriend’s appearance-Leslie’s in a cute polka dot bra and a black fedora. He can’t quite see what she’s wearing below yet, but he’s looking forward to finding out. So, it’s all definitely working for him, he’s just maybe not entirely, completely into it at the moment.
And it’s not because he doesn’t have the sexiest, most amazing girlfriend (because he does), it’s just…
“Ben?”
“Sorry. I love the hat. I love you. It’s just work stuff. Sorry,” he repeats again.
He sighs and leans up higher against the headboard in his DC bedroom. The twelve boxes Leslie sent him are all unpacked, the new pajamas already washed and ready for tonight, and the Batman comic book is on his bedside table.
“Oh,” Leslie frowns and reaches for her shirt. Ben watches as she wraps it around herself. “Put your clothes back on,” she instructs.
“Why?” Ben asks, but grabs his discarded undershirt shirt and pulls it over his head. His pants are unzipped, but she doesn’t know that yet, so he doesn’t bother to do anything about those.
“Because I want to talk about what’s wrong and I don’t want your sexy elf king physique to distract me. Now what’s going on?”
“It’s stupid,” Ben sighs. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
Leslie raises her eyebrow at him.
“Alright. There are all of these interns at work and they don’t seem to respect me. And of course they’re all super connected too, so I can’t even fire the little twerps. Ellis is Congressman Murray’s nephew, Nathaniel is related to Donald Rumsfeld, and even Brittany’s dad is Ben Bernanke’s dentist. And, god, they'd just have to google my name and they’d find about the whole Ice Town thing, so that would be horrible. And one of them drew a picture of me with…a stick lodged up my butt today. So, everything is going just…great.”
He watches as Leslie smiles at him, and for as crappy as he feels at the moment, her expression still manages to lighten his mood just a bit.
“Oh. Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve gotten a drawing like that of me before too. I’m pretty sure it was Tom. But babe, so what if they find out about Ice Town?”
“Well, I did bankrupt my hometown and get impeached. Oh and maybe you remember? I don’t handle talking about it very well.”
“Ben, at eighteen you won an election and became the mayor of a city! Ellis and Nathaniel and Bethany are older than that and they’re just interns? And they’re only interns because they have connections,” Leslie scoffs. “They only wish they could bankrupt a town at eighteen.”
“I see your point,” Ben nods, starting to smile.
“Yep. And you were just the campaign manager and chief strategist for my winning election and now you’re managing the DC office of a congressional candidate. You are smart and awesome! And you have the best butt in politics-”
“Um, I don’t see how that helps me with my interns.”
“Oh, no. It doesn’t. I was just mentioning it,” she says with a grin. “If you can’t fire them, you can at least make their lives miserable if they aren’t doing their work. Oh! I know! Just pretend you’re there auditing their town. Do your fascist hard-ass thing.”
Ben laughs. “Alright. I see what you’re saying here. I don’t know, I think I’m still just a bit sensitive about the whole teen mayor thing.”
“I know,” she says, her face softening as she looks at him. “But babe, one day you should probably stop being so hard on yourself. I’m sure everyone in Partridge has even forgotten all about it by now.”
“You think?”
“Definitely,” Leslie assures him.
They smile at each other over Skype for a few seconds and Ben wishes she was sitting here on his bed with him. Then he could just reach out and hug her, feel her skin against his, and bury himself in her instead of trying to use Skype as a substitute. Because it’s definitely not.
One month down, five to go.
“Hey. I really miss you. This helped,” Ben says finally.
“I really miss you too. And I love you. But I have a question?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still have that drawing? The one with the stick up your butt? Because I’d like to see it. It sounds kind of sexy.”
Ben rolls his eyes and laughs. “You are such a weirdo. And no.”
“Okay, well.” Leslie starts unbuttoning her shirt again and he watches as her pink and white bra comes back into view. She lifts the laptop off her lap and places it on the bed between her spread legs and he can finally see her panties. They’re white and have little strawberries on them and the sight makes Ben grin.
“Then you’re just going to have to spin it around and back it on up, because now I want to see that cute little butt before we get too far into this tonight.”
17. Morning pancakes
She’s opening the fridge, looking for the whipped cream she got at the store last week, when Ben comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her.
Leslie’s early morning ponytail gives him easy access and he kisses her neck and she momentarily forgets her search, content to just lean back against him. He’s still all warm and cuddly, like he just got out of bed.
“Morning,” he says, letting a hand wander up and lightly cup a breast, as he plants another kiss just below her earlobe.
“Ben,” she warns, as she finally spots the whipped cream and reaches in to grab the can. When she does, she can feel him press against her ass.
“They’re still in bed,” Ben responds, his grip now on her hips. “It’s fine.”
She laughs. “Really? Are you saying you want to do it in the kitchen now?”
“Maybe. It’s my kitchen too. I pay a third…well, actually I’m pretty sure I’m paying more than a third of the rent.”
Leslie turns around in his arms and kisses him.
“But it’s a communal space,” Leslie says seconds later, although honestly he makes a good point. Especially since just last week she and Ben had come home from dinner to find April and Andy…enthusiastically (and nakedly) making out on the couch.
Really, it seems only fair that she and Ben have sex in the kitchen.
“Come on, we’ll be quiet,” he teases, kissing her again.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes them both smile, even for the first few seconds after their lips touch. It’s the kind of kiss that Leslie wants to start every day with, but especially the day after Valentine’s Day, when she loves him so much and is standing in Ben’s kitchen in pajama pants and one of his t-shirts and trying to finish getting breakfast together.
“And Yachter Otter is safely in the bedroom, so he can’t watch us.”
Leslie smiles. “I just…it was weird. But it was fine last night after I turned him around so that he was facing the wall.”
“Sure.” Ben nods with a laugh.
In the three months that they’ve been back together, Leslie has discovered that although Ben is slightly reserved romantically in public and not really big on PDAs, when they are alone he’s almost always touching her-whether holding her hand, snuggling on the couch, kissing her neck, or even proposing sneaky, early-morning boning in the kitchen.
“Hey,” he says, looking down and finally noticing the whipped cream can in her hand. “Do you want to do something with that?”
“I was going to put it on the pancakes-ooooh.”
He nods and smiles, pulls her in for another soft kiss.
“I can think of a few places we could put-”
“Ew. Gross.”
Both Ben and Leslie turn to see April standing in the kitchen in her pajamas, looking at them and then at the stack of pancakes on the counter.
“Good morning, April,” Leslie says, grinning but not bothering to move out of Ben’s arms. “Do you and Andy want pancakes too?”
“That depends. Did you two…do anything by them?”
18. Pregnancy dreams/babies
Leslie’s arm lands on his chest with a light thud and Ben wakes with a start. She’s tossing and turning again, just like Monday night, and just like that time earlier in the week, Ben tries to gently wake her up.
His hand on her arm is soft, rubbing along her skin, saying her name, and when she finally opens her eyes with a slight jump, the first thing she does is move the hand against him and place her palm quickly on her stomach.
She closes her eyes, seemingly happy to still be five months pregnant.
“Another nightmare?”
Leslie opens her eyes. “I’m not sure I’d call it a nightmare? Maybe just a very disturbing dream.”
“Raccoons?”
“No. this time it was-”
“More elephants with white chocolate top hats?”
“No. Centaurs,” she tells him. “Three little baby centaurs.”
“Ohhh, that’s kind of cute,” he says and then notices her look. “Nope. No. Not at all cute. We are absolutely not having baby centaurs.”
“They looked like Tom,” Leslie adds, slowly sitting up so that her back is resting against the pillows and headboard. “Okay. Maybe it was a nightmare.”
“Oh,” Ben says with a shudder and then sits up next to his wife. Leslie leans her head against his shoulder, his arm wraps around her protectively, and they both place a hand against her growing belly.
“I don’t know why I keep having these weird dreams where I give birth to an odd variety of animals, Greek gods, and objects.”
“Objects?”
“Remember,” she tells him. “Last month it was three waffle irons. That hurt.”
“Sorry.” Ben smiles and kisses the side of her head. “You’re anxious. And it’s okay-completely normal. I’m anxious too. But I promise you, we’re having three beautiful human babies,” he says and then pauses, before adding, “that are going to bankrupt us over the next twenty years. But they’ll definitely be human.”
Ben’s own anxiety-loaded dreams lately have involved having three-hundred babies and having to send them all to college. Or misplacing the babies somewhere in his office and not being able to find them.
Last week, he even dreamed that he accidentally put a baby in the refrigerator (and the leftovers in a bassinet) and then ended up on Ya Heard? With Perd to discuss what a horrible father he was-that did not go well.
“Yeah,” Leslie agrees. “Three little human, triple cherries.”
“Right. Now lay back down and let’s try to sleep.”
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep yet. Maybe I’ll go do some work or-”
“Let’s try,” he says, interrupting her and settling back down, before tugging Leslie against him. She relents easily and ends up on her side, her belly resting against Ben’s hip and her head on his shoulder. “We can talk about names again.”
“Okay. I still think Biden will work for a girl or boy and-”
“No. I’m vetoing that one just like you vetoed Khaleesi.”
“Fine. As you wish,” Leslie jokes. “Oh. Hey. Hold on…”
* * * * *
“I think Wesley has the cutest toes, but then I see Sonia’s or Stephen’s and I can’t decide again…because they are all so adorable,” Ben says, leaning down to hold a tiny little baby foot in his fingers.
It’s poking out from the fuzzy green blanket and it’s so small and soft and finally touching his little two-week old son makes him want to cry, he feels so much love. For Wesley and for Sonia and for Stephen.
And of course for Leslie. Always Leslie.
They’re in their bedroom and it’s one of the first times it’s just the two of them alone with the three babies. Both his mom and hers are around, probably downstairs bonding over being grandmothers and their little triplets are lying next to each other on the bed, safely behind pillow borders that Ben had insisted on building around them.
“I think they all have the cutest toes,” Leslie agrees. “The most incredibly perfect toes of any babies in the whole wide world.”
And really, although Leslie is prone to hyperbole, Ben really can’t disagree with her too much.
She leans down and nuzzles her face gently against Sonia’s small, swaddled form. “And the most perfect fingers, and tummies, and beautiful little eyes.”
“I know, right?” Ben agrees. “I mean, I know everyone always says that their babies are the cutest, but this time I think it’s actually true.”
She nods. “Definitely. I thought the cutest baby in the whole world was Oliver, but…I’m not sure now. And don’t ever tell Ann I said that.”
Ben smiles. “Your secret is safe with me. I just…” He shakes his head, unable to come up with any words. “I can’t believe we made them.”
“Me neither,” Leslie answers, before giving Sonia, then Wesley, then Stephen light kisses on their little baby foreheads. “They’re perfect.”
19. Sonia breaks an owl
“Dad?”
“Yeah?” Ben responds to Sonia’s tentative voice without even looking up from his laptop as he types out a response to Congressman Johnson’s email.
“Daddy?“ She says it again, and this time he’s paying enough attention to recognize that his eight-year old daughter’s tone is…very concerned.
“Oh my god,” he says, after he looks up and finally gives her his full attention. “What happ-”
“It was an accident,” she tells him quickly, holding out two big pieces of what he recognizes as Leslie’s favorite owl knickknack-a white ceramic piece she found in an antique store that she had dragged him into when they were on their honeymoon in Hawaii. The souvenir that she went out of her way to carefully bubble-wrap and ship back to Pawnee since it wouldn’t fit in their luggage.
The ceramic owl that’s survived the move from their Indiana to DC home, as well as the turbulent and klutzy toddler years.
Ben gets up from the dining room table and walks over to his daughter.
“When I came home from school Tuesday, I tossed my backpack on the chair, but I threw it too hard and it knocked the-”
“Wait. It’s Saturday,” Ben says. “Your mom gets home from her conference today. We’re picking her up at the airport in two hours.”
Sonia nods, as her face grows more and more worried. “Yeah, and-”
“No,” Ben interrupts her. “Your mom gets home today,” he repeats his words slowly. “Why didn’t you show me this on Tuesday? And…” he looks at the one piece of head and half an owl torso in her hands. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“In my room. Wes thought we could try to glue it back together and-”
“Good lord. Are you serious?” He asks, wondering how this suddenly turned into a Brady Bunch episode.
Sonia nods. “Yeah. And so we were doing that but…” she stops talking and holds her right hand upside down. The piece of owl head stays attached to her skin.
Ben closes his eyes.
Okay, he thinks, this is bad. They are still going to have to explain the breakage situation to Leslie, but he should at least be able to get Sonia unglued from the owl before they have to drive to Dulles. He knows Leslie has nail polish remover in the bathroom and…oh wait.
“The rest of the owl is glued to Wesley, right?” He asks, already afraid of Sonia’s answer.
“Yeah,” she admits. “And Stephen’s shoe. I don’t think…Operation Owl Revival is going to work.”
20. Ben yells at Wesley
It’s while Wesley is home recovering from a cold, Sonia and Stephen are out sledding with Andy, and Leslie is helping April brainstorm some ideas for work, that it happens.
Just as Ben is writing a reminder point for an early Monday meeting (one that is sure to be extra frustrating) on a bright yellow post-it note, Wesley sitting beside him on the couch, the little boy reaches for his cup of orange juice and spills it all over the coffee table. All over Ben’s budget report.
“God damn it! Be careful!”
The loud words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it and Ben seems almost as shocked as his five-year old. He’s really not a yeller normally, and he’s definitely never, ever yelled at the kids before.
Not during tantrums before bed, not during meltdowns at the grocery store. Not when they borrow the neighbor’s dog.
Never.
And as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Ben watches, feeling horrible and helpless, as Wesley’s little face scrunches up and he starts to cry. Almost immediately, any anger and frustration, neither really directed at his son to begin with, wash away as quickly as the words flew out of his mouth.
“Oh, Wesley. Wes, honey. It’s okay. It’s-”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” his small son manages to get out between gasps, as he tries to cover his eyes with his hands, his little green glasses getting in the way. The sight makes Ben’s heart ache.
“No, no. I’m sorry. I am so sorry that I lost my temper,” Ben tells the little boy, pulling him into his arms. And as he does it, he distinctly remembers his own father once (well, a few times) scarily yelling at him when he was little about something stupid and then sending him to his room to think about what he'd done.
Ben kisses the top of Wesley’s head and continues to softly tell him it’s okay until the boy calms down.
“It was just an accident and it wasn’t fair to yell at you. And it wasn’t even…” Ben trails off trying to explain and then just opts to hug his son close instead of attempting to tell a five-year old about how stressful fiscal budgets and getting enough votes for a bill are. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Wes repeats, no longer crying but quiet.
“I’m sorry too,” Ben tells him. “Why don’t we both clean up the juice and then…maybe go read for awhile?”
“No more working?”
“No more working,” Ben agrees, getting up to grab a towel from the kitchen.
When Leslie gets home with the other kids an hour or so later, instead of finding Ben organizing reports and data for Monday’s meeting with his congressional staff, she finds both her husband and son cuddled up on Wesley’s bed, Wes sound asleep on Ben and her husband reading one of the kids’ new books--Dragons Love Tacos.
And even though Wes isn’t awake, Ben seems completely engrossed in the story, his arms protectively wrapped around his son.
21. Ben on Morphine
3:15 PM - Somewhere near Eau Claire, Wisconsin
“Babe,” Ben says suddenly from his spot next to her in the car, turning towards Leslie as a rural part of Wisconsin goes rushing by through the windows. Barns and fields, with the occasional livestock smell in the air.
“Are you doing okay, honey?” She had thought he was asleep after serenading her with his unique and entertaining version of Safety Dance-We can dance, we can dance, everybody dance with their pants! but apparently, he was just resting.
“Yeah. But, do you realize?” Ben pauses-whether for dramatic effect or just because he forgot what he’s going to say, Leslie’s not sure. “Do you realize, that sometimes, part of me is inside part of you?”
“Okay,” she responds, trying to keep her eyes on the road. Leslie’s not entirely sure where he’s going with this but at least he’s not reminiscing about The Price is Right anymore. And at least they are on their way back home to Pawnee.
Although, yeah, she does remember staying home from school when she was sick and watching The Price is Right-the yodeling mountain climber was always her favorite.
“No. I mean. Really think about it. Sometimes, part of me…is inside of you. I’m inside you. Oh my god,” Ben brings his hand up to his mouth. “That is so beautiful. We’re like, connected and everything.”
“During sex, right?” Leslie asks. “Is that what-”
“Shhhhh,” Ben implores her and she knows if he wasn’t all buckled in, he’d probably be holding his finger to her lips. “Shhhh…it’s not just sex. It’s like, the whole universe. The flow. We become one with everything and everything is us. We become love. You take me in and part of me disappears in you.”
Leslie nods, but mutters, “Oh boy.”
“Wait. Here’s a question.”
She steals a glance at him, Ben is making confused face now. Leslie gets ready for more musings on the nature of life and sex from her drugged-out husband.
“What?”
“Why would someone powder her vagina?” He asks and then turns his attention to the window. “Oh, look! Cows!”
9:30 PM: Motel 6, Rockford, Illinois
Ben was pretty much back to normal by seven-thirty, even laughing when Leslie had mentioned his new philosophical attitude towards fucking. But then he started complaining about pain and had taken another pill, which she completely supports.
Seeing him hurting is horrible and Leslie certainly doesn’t mind if her sexy and serious business badger of a husband has the propensity to turn into a laid-back hippie while out of his mind on morphine. Besides, they’re no longer in the car, they’ve ordered a pizza for dinner and finished eating it, and she’d managed to get him into his pajamas just as he started to get loopy again.
“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, running his fingers through a few strands of her hair that aren’t pulled back in a ponytail. He’s staring at her but also kind of seeming like he’s not quite focusing on her. “You have pretty blonde hair and your breasts are round and soft. I’ve loved them ever since I first saw them on that horse.”
“Thank you,” Leslie responds, before laughing just a little.
“Like two warm muffins. Oh…no. Cupcakes,” he pauses. “Donna gave me a cupcake once. Tom said not to but she did anyway. It said YO on it, but I like your cupcakes better.”
“Come on, let’s get you into bed,” she tells him, pulling the covers back.
“Okay-dokey, baby smurfalong. You get into bed too and I can use your cupcakes for pillows.”
After driving for over six hours, getting into bed early doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, honestly. She can always read after he falls asleep.
Leslie tucks him in and gets her own pajamas on, her face washed and her teeth brushed, settling next to Ben after a few minutes.
Just like he wanted, he ends up using her chest as a pillow, his head to the side and his arms wrapped around her.
“I want to make baby cupcakes with you. Or maybe cookies, I don’t care which, as long as they’re healthy. Just go for it. We can teach them about Miles Davis. And recycling. And love.”
She’s rubbing her fingertips along the back of his neck, trying not to laugh again. It’s sweet and unexpected and really the first time either one of them has brought up having kids since getting married.
At least she thinks Ben is talking about having kids.
“Okay. We can talk about that. But why don’t we get home to Pawnee first?”
“Alright,” Ben agrees. “Plus, I just had a calcified rock lodged in my penis, so it’s not working right now. Hey! Wait! You stole the key to the city for me today.”
“I did.” And really, she would do it again.
Leslie would steal eight-thousand keys to eight-thousand cities for Ben Wyatt.
If Partridge doesn’t realize how wonderful Ben is, well, then the whole town can go suck some old car tires. Everyone from Mayor Stice to Fred the Sled. Even Judy Garland. Well…okay, maybe not Judy Garland, but just because she’s amazing and she only lived in Partridge for a little while.
“Ohhh,” Ben says as he looks up at her and then stretches up to give her a kiss. He makes it to her chin, his lips brushing softly against her skin there. “You’re the best wife in the whole world. Lewis said so too.”
“Who’s Lewis?”
“The eagle. You should have taken him as well, we could have set him free in the park.”
Timeline: All over the place
Summary: 11. Just kiss me, we can talk later, 12. Angry over board games, 13. Tears after the Smallest Park, 14. Leslie and Ben celebrate the anniversary of their Paris trip, 15. Leslie and Sonia watching CSPAN, 16. Ben having problems with the DC interns, 17. Morning pancakes, 18. Pregnancy dreams/babies, 19. Sonia breaks an owl, 20. Ben yells at Wesley, 21. Ben on Morphine
Notes: I had to break these up because there were too many!
11. "Just kiss me. We can talk later."
Of course Ben’s really not great with surprises, but it’s not like she’s throwing a t-shirt at him, setting up a confetti bomb, or sneaking up on him and tapping him on the shoulder.
She’s just gently surprising him, Leslie thinks as she quietly lets herself into the house. Actually, she surprised herself. She’s still not sure what made her decide to do it, it just seemed like a fun idea while she was at the salon.
Besides, they’re home in Pawnee for the holidays and if he thinks it’s weird or she decides she doesn’t like it, she can always dye it back before they return to DC.
“That you, babe?” Ben asks, and it sounds like he’s in the dining room so she heads that way.
“Yeah.”
He’s still got his attention focused on his laptop and when he finally looks up at her, his mouth kind of falls open a little and his eyes widen.
“What do you think?” She twirls around so he can see all of her now dark strawberry-blonde hair, hoping the golden copper highlights look just as nice inside as they did outside in the winter sun.
“Um. Wow.” He gets up and walks over to her. “It’s red. I mean…wow.”
“Do you think it will confuse the kids? I mean, it’s not super different, but it’s definitely not the same. What if they don’t know who I am?” She frowns. “Okay. I didn’t think about that.”
Ben smiles as he runs his fingers softly through her hair. “They’ll know who you are.”
“But it’s a change, and we’ve already had so many-”
“You look so beautiful,” he tells Leslie, pulling her closer. “Just kiss me. We can talk later.”
12. Angry over board games
“Are you really mad?” Ben asks, finally coming down the stairs after getting the triplets all settled into bed.
After dinner, there had been a bath and then pajamas, and then a board game before the kids’ bedtime. And after the usual shower of hugs and kisses from both Leslie and Ben, they were so tired it only took him reading one story before all three five-year olds were soundly asleep.
As he heads towards the kitchen, it looks like Leslie is annoyed-eating chocolate kisses from the hiding place in the cabinet behind her Pawnee Goddesses mug, while also unloading the dishwasher.
“No,” she responds icily, unwrapping another kiss and popping it in her mouth before putting the last of the silverware away.
“Babe. I won fair and square. Stephen rolled the dice for me the last time and I already had four continents-”
She interrupts him with a loud, exaggerated scoffing noise.
“What? You think he cheated?”
“Well, you two were whispering an awful lot during the game.”
Ben laughs. “It was not about strategy. Trust me. He was telling me about how much he likes cupcakes. And dinosaurs. If anything, he was slowing me down,” Ben jokes.
Leslie tries to maintain her scowl but she ends up laughing right along with him. “Well, he makes a good point there…about the cupcakes. Well, and also dinosaurs.”
Ben nods, walking over towards her. “Besides, they all took turns rolling the dice for us. Sonia and Wes had just as many turns, Stephen happened to get lucky. Why don’t we just forget all about the game and have a nice evening now that everyone who is under three feet tall is safely in bed for the night,” Ben tells her, taking the silver wrapper from her, rolling it up into a little ball, and shoving it into his jeans’ pocket.
“Okay,” Leslie agrees, settling back into his arms as he holds her close, Ben’s arms crossed around her waist.
“We’ll just forget all about how I basically wiped the floor with you and achieved world domination,” he whispers in her ear, unable to help himself.
“Ben!” She tries to move out of his grasp, but he holds her close.
“How I won Risk because my armies were superior.” With that declaration, he starts tickling her, laughing as she squirms and giggles. “And how, I am the Ultimate Risk Champion of the Universe. Say it.”
“No! Ugh. You and your ultimate big head are the worst,” she tells him, even though Leslie’s still smiling when she spins around and leans in for a non-chocolate variety kiss.
“The worst, huh?”
“Yes,” Leslie confirms, letting Ben lead her over to the couch by the hand. “I demand a rematch, Peru. And believe me, I will kick your ass. I. Will. Crush. You.”
“I think a rematch can be arranged, Denmark. Although, I wouldn’t count on crushing anything,” Ben says, smiling at his wife and pulling her down next to him. “But, as tonight’s victor, I’m going to demand some cuddling now.”
Leslie rolls her eyes and then stretches forward to open up the small drawer in the coffee table.
“How about this. We have a quick game of War,” she says, pulling out a deck of cards. “And whoever wins gets to be Ultimate Champion of the Universe.”
“But what about the cuddling?” Ben asks, watching as Leslie shuffles the deck.
“Oh, don’t worry, babe. I’m going to quickly kick your ass at this and then I’m going to cuddle the hell out of you. Naked in bed.”
13. Tears after The Smallest Park
It’s right when Ben is pushing into her, and then keeping what he hopes is a slow, sexy rhythm that Leslie kind of starts crying again, right when he’s inside her after so, so long of missing her, and at first Ben doesn’t quite know what to do.
This whole night has been a complete tornado of emotions-first despair, then confusion, and then absolute relief when she had said “screw it” while standing in their park. They barely even stopped holding hands (thank god his Saturn isn’t a stick), all the way to her house.
And now when they’re finally back in her bed, clothes discarded and scattered around the room, she’s crying again. Crying a lot.
When he stills and is about to pull back, maybe stop altogether so they can talk, Leslie just clings around his hips tighter, refusing to let him go.
“Honey, it’s okay. We can-”
He watches as she shakes her head and tries to smile through her tears. Tries to stop crying so she can talk. “No. I don’t want you to stop. Don’t stop again.”
Ben flattens out on top of her, still supporting his weight on his forearms, and kisses her. Pulls almost all the way out of her warmth and then thrusts back in, determined to never leave again. When Ben rocks his hips against Leslie’s, he listens to her breath catch.
“I’m not going to stop,” he promises.
14. Leslie and Ben celebrate the anniversary of their Paris trip
She waits until Ben turns his key all the way in the lock, twists the handle, and is halfway into the house before Leslie yells, “SURPRISE!” (the français pronunciation, of course)…loudly.
And sure, she kind of knew he might jump (or scream), but really, how can you not do something big when the anniversary is such an important one?
He shouts out and all the mail Ben was carrying inside goes fluttering down onto the floor.
“Oh my god.”
“Hi!” Leslie greets her husband with a smile. “It’s the-”
“Oh my god,” Ben repeats. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What…is happening?”
Leslie watches as Ben slowly calms down, looks around, and realizes what she has done.
Mainly, that their living room has been transformed into a Parisian bistro. Just like the one they sat outside of one afternoon-Café de la Nouvelle Mairie, as they drank cappuccinos and ate pastries. And then at her request Ben went back inside and bought more pastries.
And a bagful of macaroons for later that night in their hotel room.
“I…um, wow. You did all this?”
“I did,” Leslie says with a proud nod.
There are Parisian-themed posters on the walls of their living room, a small bistro table in the center of the room with the bay tree and planter pulled in from the deck, now outfitted with little twinkling lights. It’s really some of her best work.
It’s almost as amazing as Ann’s going away party a couple of years ago. Although, honestly, nothing she ever plans will be as amazing and awesome as that.
But this is close.
“Oh, the babies are all wearing striped shirts, berets and…wait. Do they have mustaches?” Ben looks puzzled as he walks over to where their three fourteen-month old triplets are and examines his toddlers’ happy faces. "Are they chocolate?“
“Yes. I painted them on with chocolate syrup. I figured they could just lick them off afterwards.”
“Sonia has a mustache?” He turns to look at her.
“Girls can have a mustache too, Ben.”
“Sure,” he says, nodding.
“Last year was really crazy.”
“Yes,” Ben agrees, lifting one of his children up out of the playpen (toddler-jail, as Andy calls it) and walks over to the bay tree, showing Wesley all the little lights up close.
“I was-”
“A human milk machine?” Ben guesses.
She nods. On the date of the first anniversary of their Paris trip, they had three eight-week old babies, two grandmothers, and a houseful of friends and family wandering in and out. And pretty much all Leslie did was sleep, eat, and lactate.
Oh, but she had started planning this anniversary surprise even back then.
It’s definitely a special occasion - the anniversary of their Paris trip after she had just lost the recall, when they had left Pawnee and gone to France where they forgot about Indiana, laughed, drank wine, ate eclairs, and had sex. A lot of sex. Including him fingering her against a building after dinner one night and Leslie fondling him in the stairwell of their hotel.
It was a lot of fun. Very European.
“So, tonight, we’re having boeuf bourguignon and Grand Marnier soufflé just like at Joséphine Chez Dumonet, I have a CD of accordion music all ready to go, a bottle of red wine, and-”
Leslie is interrupted by the doorbell.
“My mom is watching the kids tonight,” she says, opening the door for Marlene.
“Hi Mom.”
“Hi, honey,” Marlene responds as she walks inside. She takes Wesley from Ben and then looks around. “Why do my grandchildren all have have mustaches?”
“It’s okay,” Ben tells her. “They’re chocolate.”
After they get Sonia, Wesley, and Stephen all safely into their car seats, with all of their bags in the car, and mustaches wiped off (at her mom’s party pooper-esque insistence), Leslie and Ben end up back inside and Leslie starts the music while Ben pours two glasses of wine.
“Boeuf bourguignon, huh?”
“Yep. And then we’re going to go put this lock out on our fence,” she says, picking up a small padlock from the table that says Leslie and Ben with a little red heart, just like the one they left in Paris.
“And then we’re going to go upstairs and I’m going to jump your bones, monsieur.”
“Or,” Ben starts, walking over and handing her a glass of wine. They clink stemware. “We could let the stew wait for awhile, go over to the couch, and hardcore make out. I could eat you just like a delicious chocolate croissant.”
“Tu mange moi?” She asks, grinning as her leads her to the couch.
“Oui,” Ben confirms, pulling Leslie down onto the cushions beside him.
15. Leslie and Sonia watching CSPAN
When Ben wakes up at three-thirty in the morning, he’s only mildly surprised to see that Leslie’s side of the bed is empty. His first stop is her office/craft room where everything is in its usual crazy piles of chaos, which his wife swears she has a system for (he doesn’t entirely believe her).
Next, it’s the kids’ room. Wesley and Stephen are both asleep and Ben makes sure to tuck the covers around each little boy and give both of his three-year old sons a kiss on the forehead before he steps out into the hallway, leaving the bedroom door ajar. And then he starts the hunt for his wife and daughter.
It’s not a long search.
They are both downstairs, Leslie lying on the couch, Sonia lying on her mother, her little face turned to the side against Leslie’s chest. There’s an afghan pulled up around them and Leslie’s laptop is open on the coffee table and streaming CSPAN quietly.
“Hey,” he says softly, sitting down in the chair.
Leslie’s eyes open slowly and when she sees him, she smiles. “Hi,” she whispers back, before placing her hand on the back of Sonia’s head.
“What are you doing?” Ben asks, trying not to laugh.
“I was doing some work, then I decided to watch some CSPAN. They were going to rerun that First Ladies discussion that I like at three.”
“Hmmm, okay. Because it kind of looked like you were sleeping. And how did-”
“She came down and found me. She wanted to cuddle. And then I guess I was more tired than I thought,” she says, accenting her words with a yawn.
Leslie had just gotten home yesterday from a two-day trip to Badlands National Park for a meeting on natural resource data collection. And while all the kids miss her when she’s away, Sonia always seems extra clinging when her mom gets back home.
When Leslie travels (which thankfully isn’t all that often), Ben tries to plan fun activities to keep everyone happy and occupied, but there are always a few extra tears and meltdowns. Leslie has also confessed that she never sleeps as well in Park housing as she does at home in her own bed, right beside Ben with their little monsters just down the hall.
“Why don’t I take her upstairs and we go back to bed?”
“Mmmmm, in a bit. Right now it’s too comfy. Come cuddle with us.”
Ben smiles and watches as Leslie sits up a bit, careful to cradle Sonia’s head and he takes the invitation to sit down. She lays back, her head now in his lap. Leslie turns slightly so she’s on her side, Sonia protected by both Leslie and Ben’s arms between her little body and the edge of the sofa.
“So which First Ladies are we learning about?” Ben asks. When she doesn’t answer right away, he adds, “Babe?”
Instead of a reply Leslie sort of snores and rubs her cheek against his thigh, sighing contentedly in her sleep.
16. Ben having problems with the DC interns
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“What?” He asks, stopping his movements to look at Leslie. “No. Nothing. I, um, I don’t-”
“Is the hat too much?”
Ben studies the screen and takes in his girlfriend’s appearance-Leslie’s in a cute polka dot bra and a black fedora. He can’t quite see what she’s wearing below yet, but he’s looking forward to finding out. So, it’s all definitely working for him, he’s just maybe not entirely, completely into it at the moment.
And it’s not because he doesn’t have the sexiest, most amazing girlfriend (because he does), it’s just…
“Ben?”
“Sorry. I love the hat. I love you. It’s just work stuff. Sorry,” he repeats again.
He sighs and leans up higher against the headboard in his DC bedroom. The twelve boxes Leslie sent him are all unpacked, the new pajamas already washed and ready for tonight, and the Batman comic book is on his bedside table.
“Oh,” Leslie frowns and reaches for her shirt. Ben watches as she wraps it around herself. “Put your clothes back on,” she instructs.
“Why?” Ben asks, but grabs his discarded undershirt shirt and pulls it over his head. His pants are unzipped, but she doesn’t know that yet, so he doesn’t bother to do anything about those.
“Because I want to talk about what’s wrong and I don’t want your sexy elf king physique to distract me. Now what’s going on?”
“It’s stupid,” Ben sighs. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
Leslie raises her eyebrow at him.
“Alright. There are all of these interns at work and they don’t seem to respect me. And of course they’re all super connected too, so I can’t even fire the little twerps. Ellis is Congressman Murray’s nephew, Nathaniel is related to Donald Rumsfeld, and even Brittany’s dad is Ben Bernanke’s dentist. And, god, they'd just have to google my name and they’d find about the whole Ice Town thing, so that would be horrible. And one of them drew a picture of me with…a stick lodged up my butt today. So, everything is going just…great.”
He watches as Leslie smiles at him, and for as crappy as he feels at the moment, her expression still manages to lighten his mood just a bit.
“Oh. Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ve gotten a drawing like that of me before too. I’m pretty sure it was Tom. But babe, so what if they find out about Ice Town?”
“Well, I did bankrupt my hometown and get impeached. Oh and maybe you remember? I don’t handle talking about it very well.”
“Ben, at eighteen you won an election and became the mayor of a city! Ellis and Nathaniel and Bethany are older than that and they’re just interns? And they’re only interns because they have connections,” Leslie scoffs. “They only wish they could bankrupt a town at eighteen.”
“I see your point,” Ben nods, starting to smile.
“Yep. And you were just the campaign manager and chief strategist for my winning election and now you’re managing the DC office of a congressional candidate. You are smart and awesome! And you have the best butt in politics-”
“Um, I don’t see how that helps me with my interns.”
“Oh, no. It doesn’t. I was just mentioning it,” she says with a grin. “If you can’t fire them, you can at least make their lives miserable if they aren’t doing their work. Oh! I know! Just pretend you’re there auditing their town. Do your fascist hard-ass thing.”
Ben laughs. “Alright. I see what you’re saying here. I don’t know, I think I’m still just a bit sensitive about the whole teen mayor thing.”
“I know,” she says, her face softening as she looks at him. “But babe, one day you should probably stop being so hard on yourself. I’m sure everyone in Partridge has even forgotten all about it by now.”
“You think?”
“Definitely,” Leslie assures him.
They smile at each other over Skype for a few seconds and Ben wishes she was sitting here on his bed with him. Then he could just reach out and hug her, feel her skin against his, and bury himself in her instead of trying to use Skype as a substitute. Because it’s definitely not.
One month down, five to go.
“Hey. I really miss you. This helped,” Ben says finally.
“I really miss you too. And I love you. But I have a question?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still have that drawing? The one with the stick up your butt? Because I’d like to see it. It sounds kind of sexy.”
Ben rolls his eyes and laughs. “You are such a weirdo. And no.”
“Okay, well.” Leslie starts unbuttoning her shirt again and he watches as her pink and white bra comes back into view. She lifts the laptop off her lap and places it on the bed between her spread legs and he can finally see her panties. They’re white and have little strawberries on them and the sight makes Ben grin.
“Then you’re just going to have to spin it around and back it on up, because now I want to see that cute little butt before we get too far into this tonight.”
17. Morning pancakes
She’s opening the fridge, looking for the whipped cream she got at the store last week, when Ben comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her.
Leslie’s early morning ponytail gives him easy access and he kisses her neck and she momentarily forgets her search, content to just lean back against him. He’s still all warm and cuddly, like he just got out of bed.
“Morning,” he says, letting a hand wander up and lightly cup a breast, as he plants another kiss just below her earlobe.
“Ben,” she warns, as she finally spots the whipped cream and reaches in to grab the can. When she does, she can feel him press against her ass.
“They’re still in bed,” Ben responds, his grip now on her hips. “It’s fine.”
She laughs. “Really? Are you saying you want to do it in the kitchen now?”
“Maybe. It’s my kitchen too. I pay a third…well, actually I’m pretty sure I’m paying more than a third of the rent.”
Leslie turns around in his arms and kisses him.
“But it’s a communal space,” Leslie says seconds later, although honestly he makes a good point. Especially since just last week she and Ben had come home from dinner to find April and Andy…enthusiastically (and nakedly) making out on the couch.
Really, it seems only fair that she and Ben have sex in the kitchen.
“Come on, we’ll be quiet,” he teases, kissing her again.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes them both smile, even for the first few seconds after their lips touch. It’s the kind of kiss that Leslie wants to start every day with, but especially the day after Valentine’s Day, when she loves him so much and is standing in Ben’s kitchen in pajama pants and one of his t-shirts and trying to finish getting breakfast together.
“And Yachter Otter is safely in the bedroom, so he can’t watch us.”
Leslie smiles. “I just…it was weird. But it was fine last night after I turned him around so that he was facing the wall.”
“Sure.” Ben nods with a laugh.
In the three months that they’ve been back together, Leslie has discovered that although Ben is slightly reserved romantically in public and not really big on PDAs, when they are alone he’s almost always touching her-whether holding her hand, snuggling on the couch, kissing her neck, or even proposing sneaky, early-morning boning in the kitchen.
“Hey,” he says, looking down and finally noticing the whipped cream can in her hand. “Do you want to do something with that?”
“I was going to put it on the pancakes-ooooh.”
He nods and smiles, pulls her in for another soft kiss.
“I can think of a few places we could put-”
“Ew. Gross.”
Both Ben and Leslie turn to see April standing in the kitchen in her pajamas, looking at them and then at the stack of pancakes on the counter.
“Good morning, April,” Leslie says, grinning but not bothering to move out of Ben’s arms. “Do you and Andy want pancakes too?”
“That depends. Did you two…do anything by them?”
18. Pregnancy dreams/babies
Leslie’s arm lands on his chest with a light thud and Ben wakes with a start. She’s tossing and turning again, just like Monday night, and just like that time earlier in the week, Ben tries to gently wake her up.
His hand on her arm is soft, rubbing along her skin, saying her name, and when she finally opens her eyes with a slight jump, the first thing she does is move the hand against him and place her palm quickly on her stomach.
She closes her eyes, seemingly happy to still be five months pregnant.
“Another nightmare?”
Leslie opens her eyes. “I’m not sure I’d call it a nightmare? Maybe just a very disturbing dream.”
“Raccoons?”
“No. this time it was-”
“More elephants with white chocolate top hats?”
“No. Centaurs,” she tells him. “Three little baby centaurs.”
“Ohhh, that’s kind of cute,” he says and then notices her look. “Nope. No. Not at all cute. We are absolutely not having baby centaurs.”
“They looked like Tom,” Leslie adds, slowly sitting up so that her back is resting against the pillows and headboard. “Okay. Maybe it was a nightmare.”
“Oh,” Ben says with a shudder and then sits up next to his wife. Leslie leans her head against his shoulder, his arm wraps around her protectively, and they both place a hand against her growing belly.
“I don’t know why I keep having these weird dreams where I give birth to an odd variety of animals, Greek gods, and objects.”
“Objects?”
“Remember,” she tells him. “Last month it was three waffle irons. That hurt.”
“Sorry.” Ben smiles and kisses the side of her head. “You’re anxious. And it’s okay-completely normal. I’m anxious too. But I promise you, we’re having three beautiful human babies,” he says and then pauses, before adding, “that are going to bankrupt us over the next twenty years. But they’ll definitely be human.”
Ben’s own anxiety-loaded dreams lately have involved having three-hundred babies and having to send them all to college. Or misplacing the babies somewhere in his office and not being able to find them.
Last week, he even dreamed that he accidentally put a baby in the refrigerator (and the leftovers in a bassinet) and then ended up on Ya Heard? With Perd to discuss what a horrible father he was-that did not go well.
“Yeah,” Leslie agrees. “Three little human, triple cherries.”
“Right. Now lay back down and let’s try to sleep.”
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep yet. Maybe I’ll go do some work or-”
“Let’s try,” he says, interrupting her and settling back down, before tugging Leslie against him. She relents easily and ends up on her side, her belly resting against Ben’s hip and her head on his shoulder. “We can talk about names again.”
“Okay. I still think Biden will work for a girl or boy and-”
“No. I’m vetoing that one just like you vetoed Khaleesi.”
“Fine. As you wish,” Leslie jokes. “Oh. Hey. Hold on…”
* * * * *
“I think Wesley has the cutest toes, but then I see Sonia’s or Stephen’s and I can’t decide again…because they are all so adorable,” Ben says, leaning down to hold a tiny little baby foot in his fingers.
It’s poking out from the fuzzy green blanket and it’s so small and soft and finally touching his little two-week old son makes him want to cry, he feels so much love. For Wesley and for Sonia and for Stephen.
And of course for Leslie. Always Leslie.
They’re in their bedroom and it’s one of the first times it’s just the two of them alone with the three babies. Both his mom and hers are around, probably downstairs bonding over being grandmothers and their little triplets are lying next to each other on the bed, safely behind pillow borders that Ben had insisted on building around them.
“I think they all have the cutest toes,” Leslie agrees. “The most incredibly perfect toes of any babies in the whole wide world.”
And really, although Leslie is prone to hyperbole, Ben really can’t disagree with her too much.
She leans down and nuzzles her face gently against Sonia’s small, swaddled form. “And the most perfect fingers, and tummies, and beautiful little eyes.”
“I know, right?” Ben agrees. “I mean, I know everyone always says that their babies are the cutest, but this time I think it’s actually true.”
She nods. “Definitely. I thought the cutest baby in the whole world was Oliver, but…I’m not sure now. And don’t ever tell Ann I said that.”
Ben smiles. “Your secret is safe with me. I just…” He shakes his head, unable to come up with any words. “I can’t believe we made them.”
“Me neither,” Leslie answers, before giving Sonia, then Wesley, then Stephen light kisses on their little baby foreheads. “They’re perfect.”
19. Sonia breaks an owl
“Dad?”
“Yeah?” Ben responds to Sonia’s tentative voice without even looking up from his laptop as he types out a response to Congressman Johnson’s email.
“Daddy?“ She says it again, and this time he’s paying enough attention to recognize that his eight-year old daughter’s tone is…very concerned.
“Oh my god,” he says, after he looks up and finally gives her his full attention. “What happ-”
“It was an accident,” she tells him quickly, holding out two big pieces of what he recognizes as Leslie’s favorite owl knickknack-a white ceramic piece she found in an antique store that she had dragged him into when they were on their honeymoon in Hawaii. The souvenir that she went out of her way to carefully bubble-wrap and ship back to Pawnee since it wouldn’t fit in their luggage.
The ceramic owl that’s survived the move from their Indiana to DC home, as well as the turbulent and klutzy toddler years.
Ben gets up from the dining room table and walks over to his daughter.
“When I came home from school Tuesday, I tossed my backpack on the chair, but I threw it too hard and it knocked the-”
“Wait. It’s Saturday,” Ben says. “Your mom gets home from her conference today. We’re picking her up at the airport in two hours.”
Sonia nods, as her face grows more and more worried. “Yeah, and-”
“No,” Ben interrupts her. “Your mom gets home today,” he repeats his words slowly. “Why didn’t you show me this on Tuesday? And…” he looks at the one piece of head and half an owl torso in her hands. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“In my room. Wes thought we could try to glue it back together and-”
“Good lord. Are you serious?” He asks, wondering how this suddenly turned into a Brady Bunch episode.
Sonia nods. “Yeah. And so we were doing that but…” she stops talking and holds her right hand upside down. The piece of owl head stays attached to her skin.
Ben closes his eyes.
Okay, he thinks, this is bad. They are still going to have to explain the breakage situation to Leslie, but he should at least be able to get Sonia unglued from the owl before they have to drive to Dulles. He knows Leslie has nail polish remover in the bathroom and…oh wait.
“The rest of the owl is glued to Wesley, right?” He asks, already afraid of Sonia’s answer.
“Yeah,” she admits. “And Stephen’s shoe. I don’t think…Operation Owl Revival is going to work.”
20. Ben yells at Wesley
It’s while Wesley is home recovering from a cold, Sonia and Stephen are out sledding with Andy, and Leslie is helping April brainstorm some ideas for work, that it happens.
Just as Ben is writing a reminder point for an early Monday meeting (one that is sure to be extra frustrating) on a bright yellow post-it note, Wesley sitting beside him on the couch, the little boy reaches for his cup of orange juice and spills it all over the coffee table. All over Ben’s budget report.
“God damn it! Be careful!”
The loud words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it and Ben seems almost as shocked as his five-year old. He’s really not a yeller normally, and he’s definitely never, ever yelled at the kids before.
Not during tantrums before bed, not during meltdowns at the grocery store. Not when they borrow the neighbor’s dog.
Never.
And as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Ben watches, feeling horrible and helpless, as Wesley’s little face scrunches up and he starts to cry. Almost immediately, any anger and frustration, neither really directed at his son to begin with, wash away as quickly as the words flew out of his mouth.
“Oh, Wesley. Wes, honey. It’s okay. It’s-”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” his small son manages to get out between gasps, as he tries to cover his eyes with his hands, his little green glasses getting in the way. The sight makes Ben’s heart ache.
“No, no. I’m sorry. I am so sorry that I lost my temper,” Ben tells the little boy, pulling him into his arms. And as he does it, he distinctly remembers his own father once (well, a few times) scarily yelling at him when he was little about something stupid and then sending him to his room to think about what he'd done.
Ben kisses the top of Wesley’s head and continues to softly tell him it’s okay until the boy calms down.
“It was just an accident and it wasn’t fair to yell at you. And it wasn’t even…” Ben trails off trying to explain and then just opts to hug his son close instead of attempting to tell a five-year old about how stressful fiscal budgets and getting enough votes for a bill are. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Wes repeats, no longer crying but quiet.
“I’m sorry too,” Ben tells him. “Why don’t we both clean up the juice and then…maybe go read for awhile?”
“No more working?”
“No more working,” Ben agrees, getting up to grab a towel from the kitchen.
When Leslie gets home with the other kids an hour or so later, instead of finding Ben organizing reports and data for Monday’s meeting with his congressional staff, she finds both her husband and son cuddled up on Wesley’s bed, Wes sound asleep on Ben and her husband reading one of the kids’ new books--Dragons Love Tacos.
And even though Wes isn’t awake, Ben seems completely engrossed in the story, his arms protectively wrapped around his son.
21. Ben on Morphine
3:15 PM - Somewhere near Eau Claire, Wisconsin
“Babe,” Ben says suddenly from his spot next to her in the car, turning towards Leslie as a rural part of Wisconsin goes rushing by through the windows. Barns and fields, with the occasional livestock smell in the air.
“Are you doing okay, honey?” She had thought he was asleep after serenading her with his unique and entertaining version of Safety Dance-We can dance, we can dance, everybody dance with their pants! but apparently, he was just resting.
“Yeah. But, do you realize?” Ben pauses-whether for dramatic effect or just because he forgot what he’s going to say, Leslie’s not sure. “Do you realize, that sometimes, part of me is inside part of you?”
“Okay,” she responds, trying to keep her eyes on the road. Leslie’s not entirely sure where he’s going with this but at least he’s not reminiscing about The Price is Right anymore. And at least they are on their way back home to Pawnee.
Although, yeah, she does remember staying home from school when she was sick and watching The Price is Right-the yodeling mountain climber was always her favorite.
“No. I mean. Really think about it. Sometimes, part of me…is inside of you. I’m inside you. Oh my god,” Ben brings his hand up to his mouth. “That is so beautiful. We’re like, connected and everything.”
“During sex, right?” Leslie asks. “Is that what-”
“Shhhhh,” Ben implores her and she knows if he wasn’t all buckled in, he’d probably be holding his finger to her lips. “Shhhh…it’s not just sex. It’s like, the whole universe. The flow. We become one with everything and everything is us. We become love. You take me in and part of me disappears in you.”
Leslie nods, but mutters, “Oh boy.”
“Wait. Here’s a question.”
She steals a glance at him, Ben is making confused face now. Leslie gets ready for more musings on the nature of life and sex from her drugged-out husband.
“What?”
“Why would someone powder her vagina?” He asks and then turns his attention to the window. “Oh, look! Cows!”
9:30 PM: Motel 6, Rockford, Illinois
Ben was pretty much back to normal by seven-thirty, even laughing when Leslie had mentioned his new philosophical attitude towards fucking. But then he started complaining about pain and had taken another pill, which she completely supports.
Seeing him hurting is horrible and Leslie certainly doesn’t mind if her sexy and serious business badger of a husband has the propensity to turn into a laid-back hippie while out of his mind on morphine. Besides, they’re no longer in the car, they’ve ordered a pizza for dinner and finished eating it, and she’d managed to get him into his pajamas just as he started to get loopy again.
“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, running his fingers through a few strands of her hair that aren’t pulled back in a ponytail. He’s staring at her but also kind of seeming like he’s not quite focusing on her. “You have pretty blonde hair and your breasts are round and soft. I’ve loved them ever since I first saw them on that horse.”
“Thank you,” Leslie responds, before laughing just a little.
“Like two warm muffins. Oh…no. Cupcakes,” he pauses. “Donna gave me a cupcake once. Tom said not to but she did anyway. It said YO on it, but I like your cupcakes better.”
“Come on, let’s get you into bed,” she tells him, pulling the covers back.
“Okay-dokey, baby smurfalong. You get into bed too and I can use your cupcakes for pillows.”
After driving for over six hours, getting into bed early doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, honestly. She can always read after he falls asleep.
Leslie tucks him in and gets her own pajamas on, her face washed and her teeth brushed, settling next to Ben after a few minutes.
Just like he wanted, he ends up using her chest as a pillow, his head to the side and his arms wrapped around her.
“I want to make baby cupcakes with you. Or maybe cookies, I don’t care which, as long as they’re healthy. Just go for it. We can teach them about Miles Davis. And recycling. And love.”
She’s rubbing her fingertips along the back of his neck, trying not to laugh again. It’s sweet and unexpected and really the first time either one of them has brought up having kids since getting married.
At least she thinks Ben is talking about having kids.
“Okay. We can talk about that. But why don’t we get home to Pawnee first?”
“Alright,” Ben agrees. “Plus, I just had a calcified rock lodged in my penis, so it’s not working right now. Hey! Wait! You stole the key to the city for me today.”
“I did.” And really, she would do it again.
Leslie would steal eight-thousand keys to eight-thousand cities for Ben Wyatt.
If Partridge doesn’t realize how wonderful Ben is, well, then the whole town can go suck some old car tires. Everyone from Mayor Stice to Fred the Sled. Even Judy Garland. Well…okay, maybe not Judy Garland, but just because she’s amazing and she only lived in Partridge for a little while.
“Ohhh,” Ben says as he looks up at her and then stretches up to give her a kiss. He makes it to her chin, his lips brushing softly against her skin there. “You’re the best wife in the whole world. Lewis said so too.”
“Who’s Lewis?”
“The eagle. You should have taken him as well, we could have set him free in the park.”