Twelve Hours in Minnesota
Title: Twelve Hours in Minnesota
Rating: mild R
Summary: Ben and Leslie go to a Wyatt family reunion in Minnesota. Leslie helps Ben relieve some stress in a spacious coat closet. But with lots of other stuff too.
Timeline: Post-(most of) Season 6, Pre-Season 7.
Notes: Prompted on Tumblr by ladyknope. Wyatt family reunion (maybe Leslie helps Ben relax because he's stressed out by his family?) Um, I may have made Ben's family too odd? At first it was just going to be Leslie and Ben making out in a closet but then it grew into this. I don't know...
Damn it, I should have named this, Forget it Ben, it's Brainerd. Oh well.
Saturday, 9:30 AM
"This is going to be horrible," Ben tells her, and not for the first time, as he turns the rental car down a small, tree-lined street. "I'm not sure that I've truly prepared you for how--"
"Babe. It's not going to be horrible. It's going to be fun. Family is important and I want to meet more of yours. Aside from your mom, dad, Ulani, and Stephanie, I haven't really met any of your other relatives," Leslie pauses briefly. "Besides, your brother will be there and I want to get to know him. And I absolutely do not have a binder full of questions to ask him about what you were like growing up."
Ben laughs, the first sign of levity in the last thirty miles. "And I want you to meet Henry. Look, I'll give him a call and have him meet us back in Minneapolis tomorrow. We'll spend the weekend there and actually have a nice time. Tonight we can soak in a relaxing bubble bath in some over-priced downtown hotel room and hey, I know of a place in St. Paul that makes ice cream sandwiches with waffles."
"No. Wait. Really?" Leslie shakes her head, refusing to give into the temptation. "No. Although, I think we should stop there on the way back. But, you are a Wyatt and we are going to this Wyatt family reunion. We have a bag full of Twizzlers, we've listened to Purple Rain on repeat since we got in the car this morning, and I've spent the last week reading up on ice hockey. We're ready."
"We are not ready. The babies are not ready. We need to protect them and--"
"Ben, the babies are fine. And since they go where I go, they're going to this reunion," she says, patting her just-slightly protruding stomach. "Besides, this is perfect timing, I'm no longer nauseous all the time and I don't start my new position at NPS until next week. Oh, and look, here we are in Minnesota. We are ready," she tells him determinedly. "And we are doing this."
"Well, I'm glad you think so because...we're literally here," he says mimicking Chris, while pulling up to the curb and putting the car into park.
"Is this...wow." She says, looking out her open window at the large, three-story, truly unique home. "It looks like the Adams Family house."
Ben laughs. "Yep. Aunt June and Uncle Frank's house. A charming little dark and brooding Victorian getaway in Brainerd, Minnesota, filled with cobwebs, uncomfortable furniture, an abundance of doilies, and the biggest hunting knife collection in the county. And I am not joking about any of those things."
She takes her phone out and snaps a photo.
"What are you doing?" Ben asks.
"Sending a picture to April. She'd love it here."
***
Saturday, 1:30 PM
"So wait, how exactly did you get out of staying at the house? I thought we all had to stay here tonight?" Ben asks his brother, as Henry picks up one of Ben's plaid shirts and smirks at it.
Unlike her husband, her brother-in-law seems to not be a hug fan of the pattern. But other than that, Henry seems a lot like Ben. A couple years older, maybe a few pounds heavier, hair parted on the side instead of sticking all up, and definitely less serious than Ben, but with the same sarcastic streak and kind, warm brown eyes.
After only knowing him for a couple of hours, Leslie already likes him a lot. He's going to be a great uncle.
"You know, my bad back," Henry responds with a grin. When he puts the shirt back on the guest room's dresser, he sees Leslie's tote bag full of Twizzler packages and comments, "nice."
"What bad--"
"The one I made up to get out of staying here. Jesus, Ben, keep up. Instead, I will be spending my night at Brainerd's finest--the no doubt four-star reviewed Super 8 half a mile away, which probably has an even worse mattress than the extra bedrooms here, but I am completely fine with that. Hey, can I have some of these?" He asks, motioning at the candy bag.
Leslie nods happily, before telling Henry, "Well, I'm just sorry that your wife and daughters didn't come with you. I was looking forward to getting to know them this trip."
"Oh. No. No. Meghan, Anna, and the baby are back in Chicago where its safe...uh, with all the gang violence."
Leslie looks over at Ben just as he rolls his eyes.
"See?" He says to her. "I told you we shouldn't have come. Babe. My dad's side of the family just isn't safe. For outsiders, for children, for pregnant ladies...for anyone. They are all seriously crazy. The only positive to being with them here instead of my mom's side back in Partridge, is that most of these relatives don't remember about the teen mayor thing."
Henry nods along with his younger brother. "Too much acid in the 60s. And 80s."
"I mean, my dad is the least terrifying one. And he's terrifying, so..." Ben tells her again, but despite the topic, it looks like he's starting to relax. Leslie thinks it's probably due to spending time with his brother, whom he clearly loves a lot. "Ulani didn't even make the trip--she and the baby stayed home too."
"Oh! Hey. Speaking of a baby--I have a present for you two in my car. I can bring it in later," Henry leans down to hug and kiss Leslie's cheek. "Congratulations! I'm mildly surprised you let this dork get you pregnant, but I wish you the best!"
Leslie laughs, returning her brother-in-law's hug. "Thank you. But there is another surprise too."
"Triplets," Ben says, grinning. "We found out last month."
"Where?" Henry looks around, and then turns back to Leslie, pointing at her stomach. "In there?"
"Yep," Ben answers proudly.
"Dude," Henry says, moving in for a high-five with Ben. "Way to impregnate."
Just then the door opens and an older woman with a slight resemblance to Ethel Beavers sticks her head in, a half-smoked cigarette dangling precariously from her mouth. "Break it up in here. Family photo in two minutes out back. Get your asses in gear," she instructs, before noticing the bag full of Twizzlers on the dresser. "And bring those," she adds, before slamming the door behind her.
"Oh my god. Aunt Lila's still alive?" Ben asks, moving over to the window and quickly opening it to let some fresh air into the room. To Leslie he adds, "That's my dad's older brother Teddy's...uh...special lady friend. He passed away eight years ago but apparently Lila's still around."
Henry nods his head. "She can't die. We think she's the Highlander--there can be only one."
Ben laughs after finishing the last phrase with his brother. "One time, when I was six, Henry bet me his Millennium Falcon model that I wouldn't go over to her during a family barbecue and steal a sausage from her plate. I did, and she stabbed me with her fork."
"What?" Leslie asks and for the first time honestly wonders if this side of Ben's family truly is a little crazy.
"Well," Henry interjects. "To be fair, she really just poked at you enthusiastically with her plastic spork. I'm not entirely sure she meant to hit you."
"I was six! She stabbed me! And then dad yelled at me and made me give her the sausage back, before mom poured that stinging stuff all over the wound. And you," he gives Henry an accusatory look, "just laughed and didn't even give me the model."
Henry snorts. "You gave the sausage back. You did not complete the task as requested."
"Where are those damn kids?" They hear a voice from down below.
Leslie thinks it sounds like Stephen Wyatt, Ben and Henry's father, but honestly all of the older Wyatt men seem to have similar voices. Quiet, gruff, and slightly menacing. She shakes her head. Nope. Now she's just letting Ben and Henry get to her--Ben's family is very nice, albeit a little quirky, and they've made her feel completely welcome since they've gotten here.
And she really does want to get to know the Wyatts better--especially now with the triplets on the way.
"I told them to come on out. Get out here with the Twizzlers, damn it! Photos!" Lila's unmistakable cranky yell travels up to the room.
"We need to go. We definitely do not want her to come up here again," Ben says, helping Leslie up. As she does the bed makes another horrendous squeak, just like it did when she sat down earlier.
"God you guys, that sucks for you later," Henry says knowingly, letting Leslie and then Ben pass through the doorway while he follows behind. "So bro, maybe I'll dare you to steal something off of Lila's plate at dinner."
"You'd have to give me something really good," Ben responds as they head downstairs, his hand firmly grasping hers. He gives it a squeeze. "Hey, did I ever tell you how Leslie stole the key to Partridge for me last year? I was really loopy on morphine, but she was so cute and it was so awesome."
***
Saturday, 3:00 PM
"Ben?" Leslie opens the door to the large closet and really, isn't all that surprised to find him standing there among all the coats and outdoor gear, a small light at the ceiling illuminating the space.
"Oh, hey," he responds, nodding causally like it's the most natural thing in the world to hide in a closet. Leslie joins him and shuts the door behind her.
"It's not that bad, honey. Everyone's family has stories about them wetting the bed. And camping mishaps. But I think the photos with all of us in the backyard will be really nice to have."
Ben smiles. "Yeah. They will. My family is weird but I still love them," he agrees. "And the embarrassing stories aren't that big of a deal, although I could certainly live without them. It's just..." he pauses. "Being here brings back a lot of memories. We only came a few times when I was a kid, but when we were here I used to think the house was haunted. It was always so loud, and my parents were always fighting, and everyone else was really, really into ice fishing and hunting. And competitive pie baking. And throwing things at you when you least expected it," Ben stops and tugs her closer, wraps his arms around her.
"Henry could always kind of fit in, but I never could relax here. And Stephanie was so little, she never really had to deal with it much before the divorce, but I always felt out of place when we visited from Partridge. But it's probably not too late for you," he pulls back to look at her. "No, it's too late. You're part of this now. I'm so sorry."
"Pie baking, huh?"
"Yeah. I think there's going to be a contest after brunch tomorrow. It could get ugly."
"Mmmmmmm but there'll be pie."
Ben laughs. "Okay, but after that, we are out of here."
"Okay," she agrees. They hug and kiss for awhile, Leslie completely content to hide in the closet with her husband and be his stress sham-wow.
"My dad's family hates my mom," she tells him quietly. "They never really liked her but they haven't spoken to her since after his funeral. They'll talk to me and send Christmas cards and all of that, but it's just weird. And navigating that is going to be even more complicated after we have our kids."
"Yeah," Ben agrees, kissing her temple.
"And if we ever visit here with the triplets, and I think we should, it might be uncomfortable at times. Maybe I'll even have to make another quilt specifically for the Wyatt clan, and believe me, I have a lot of ideas for the squares, but--"
"We can't hide in the closet when we bring our kids here."
"No," Leslie agrees.
"But it's so quiet."
"True."
"And nothing squeaks," Ben adds.
"Also true," she says, smiling and moving closer to him, before something catches her eye. "Oh my god, is that an Abraham Lincoln hat up on the shelf?"
"What?" Ben turns to look. "Um, yeah," he says, pulling it down. "This is a strange thing to find but not entirely surprising, to be honest."
Leslie grins at him. "Put it on."
"What? Now?"
She nods.
He smiles at her. "Okay."
Once the hat is on his head, Ben gets into character and starts speaking. "Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that--"
Leslie kisses him before he can get any further into the Gettysburg Address.
For a closet, although still dark, it is pretty spacious.
There's definitely enough room for Ben to unbutton her shirt, pull her bra up and over her breasts and to lick and tease her nipples with his teeth while she moans and giggles. There's also enough room for him to slide his hand into her pants and make her come easily and quickly, her cries muffled against his shoulder.
And there's definitely enough room for her to unzip Honest Abe's jeans and return the favor, sliding her hand around him, while she kisses Ben and tries to make him feel more grounded in the loud and unpredictable Minnesota home that always probably made his younger self so anxious.
Sure, they can't hide in this closet forever, but there's definitely no reason they can't hardcore, historical make-out for twenty minutes.
***
Saturday, 7:00 PM
"You're serious about following through this time and delivering the goods?"
"Yep. Just get me that last bacon-wrapped shrimp from her plate and it's all yours," Henry responds, holding the prize out in front of Ben teasingly. "Promise."
"She's using real silverware, though," Ben tells his brother, a slightly skeptical tone to his voice.
"Yeah, but the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward, Benji."
He looks at Lila again and then turns his attention to Leslie, who he spots easily on the other side of the large yard. She's laughing, her hand protectively around her stomach (the first time he's seen her do that) and seems to be involved in a pleasant conversation with his cousin Susan and her partner Beth.
Ben returns his focus to Henry and nods determinedly. "Bro, I'm going to go super get you that fucking bacon-wrapped shrimp."
***
Saturday, 9:30 PM
"Come on," he says, tugging her by the arm, away from the yard and towards the street in front.
"Ben, your hand. Let me look at it again."
"It's really okay. She didn't even break the skin this time. Old woman's losing her touch," he jokes.
Leslie laughs. "I don't understand why you let Henry talk you into that again? You're not six anymore."
"I know. But I got something really good this time."
"Better than the Millennium Falcon?"
"Yep," he waves the plastic Super 8 keycard at her. "Henry's room at the motel. We're taking that and he's staying here in our room."
"Really? Wait. What about our stuff?"
"I packed it all up while Aunt June was showing you her knives. And Henry still had his overnight bag in his SUV, so we're all set. Honey, seriously, come on," he takes her hand and leads her to their car. "Let's make a break for it before they notice we're gone. It's too quiet, I can almost guarantee there's going to be fighting soon, and then possibly everyone will start target shooting off the side of the barn in back. And in case you were wondering, yes, I grabbed the extra cake slices from the dessert table."
"But what about brunch tomorrow? I was going to help..." Leslie makes a face. "Susan? The tall woman with the bangs. Your parents ruined her son's graduation a couple of years ago? I think she's an Art History professor at--"
"Yeah, Susan. My cousin. She's normal."
"Right. Well, I was going to help her make the fruit salad and bake the cinnamon rolls tomorrow morning. Oh! And also, I think I talked my way onto the judging panel for the pie contest."
"You can still do all of that. We'll come back here before brunch, have some pie, and then we'll say goodbye to everyone, and head out for the Cities by two like we planned. Only this way, we can get a good night's sleep first."
"And have the extra cake slices for later tonight," Leslie finishes, tugging on his hand.
Ben grins and nods, kisses her thoroughly before opening the passenger door. "Yep. And I really am glad we came here. Thank you for talking me into it," he says, making Leslie smile in response. "But now, we have a bed that doesn't squeak waiting for us at Brainerd's finest motel. Let's go."
Rating: mild R
Summary: Ben and Leslie go to a Wyatt family reunion in Minnesota. Leslie helps Ben relieve some stress in a spacious coat closet. But with lots of other stuff too.
Timeline: Post-(most of) Season 6, Pre-Season 7.
Notes: Prompted on Tumblr by ladyknope. Wyatt family reunion (maybe Leslie helps Ben relax because he's stressed out by his family?) Um, I may have made Ben's family too odd? At first it was just going to be Leslie and Ben making out in a closet but then it grew into this. I don't know...
Damn it, I should have named this, Forget it Ben, it's Brainerd. Oh well.
Saturday, 9:30 AM
"This is going to be horrible," Ben tells her, and not for the first time, as he turns the rental car down a small, tree-lined street. "I'm not sure that I've truly prepared you for how--"
"Babe. It's not going to be horrible. It's going to be fun. Family is important and I want to meet more of yours. Aside from your mom, dad, Ulani, and Stephanie, I haven't really met any of your other relatives," Leslie pauses briefly. "Besides, your brother will be there and I want to get to know him. And I absolutely do not have a binder full of questions to ask him about what you were like growing up."
Ben laughs, the first sign of levity in the last thirty miles. "And I want you to meet Henry. Look, I'll give him a call and have him meet us back in Minneapolis tomorrow. We'll spend the weekend there and actually have a nice time. Tonight we can soak in a relaxing bubble bath in some over-priced downtown hotel room and hey, I know of a place in St. Paul that makes ice cream sandwiches with waffles."
"No. Wait. Really?" Leslie shakes her head, refusing to give into the temptation. "No. Although, I think we should stop there on the way back. But, you are a Wyatt and we are going to this Wyatt family reunion. We have a bag full of Twizzlers, we've listened to Purple Rain on repeat since we got in the car this morning, and I've spent the last week reading up on ice hockey. We're ready."
"We are not ready. The babies are not ready. We need to protect them and--"
"Ben, the babies are fine. And since they go where I go, they're going to this reunion," she says, patting her just-slightly protruding stomach. "Besides, this is perfect timing, I'm no longer nauseous all the time and I don't start my new position at NPS until next week. Oh, and look, here we are in Minnesota. We are ready," she tells him determinedly. "And we are doing this."
"Well, I'm glad you think so because...we're literally here," he says mimicking Chris, while pulling up to the curb and putting the car into park.
"Is this...wow." She says, looking out her open window at the large, three-story, truly unique home. "It looks like the Adams Family house."
Ben laughs. "Yep. Aunt June and Uncle Frank's house. A charming little dark and brooding Victorian getaway in Brainerd, Minnesota, filled with cobwebs, uncomfortable furniture, an abundance of doilies, and the biggest hunting knife collection in the county. And I am not joking about any of those things."
She takes her phone out and snaps a photo.
"What are you doing?" Ben asks.
"Sending a picture to April. She'd love it here."
***
Saturday, 1:30 PM
"So wait, how exactly did you get out of staying at the house? I thought we all had to stay here tonight?" Ben asks his brother, as Henry picks up one of Ben's plaid shirts and smirks at it.
Unlike her husband, her brother-in-law seems to not be a hug fan of the pattern. But other than that, Henry seems a lot like Ben. A couple years older, maybe a few pounds heavier, hair parted on the side instead of sticking all up, and definitely less serious than Ben, but with the same sarcastic streak and kind, warm brown eyes.
After only knowing him for a couple of hours, Leslie already likes him a lot. He's going to be a great uncle.
"You know, my bad back," Henry responds with a grin. When he puts the shirt back on the guest room's dresser, he sees Leslie's tote bag full of Twizzler packages and comments, "nice."
"What bad--"
"The one I made up to get out of staying here. Jesus, Ben, keep up. Instead, I will be spending my night at Brainerd's finest--the no doubt four-star reviewed Super 8 half a mile away, which probably has an even worse mattress than the extra bedrooms here, but I am completely fine with that. Hey, can I have some of these?" He asks, motioning at the candy bag.
Leslie nods happily, before telling Henry, "Well, I'm just sorry that your wife and daughters didn't come with you. I was looking forward to getting to know them this trip."
"Oh. No. No. Meghan, Anna, and the baby are back in Chicago where its safe...uh, with all the gang violence."
Leslie looks over at Ben just as he rolls his eyes.
"See?" He says to her. "I told you we shouldn't have come. Babe. My dad's side of the family just isn't safe. For outsiders, for children, for pregnant ladies...for anyone. They are all seriously crazy. The only positive to being with them here instead of my mom's side back in Partridge, is that most of these relatives don't remember about the teen mayor thing."
Henry nods along with his younger brother. "Too much acid in the 60s. And 80s."
"I mean, my dad is the least terrifying one. And he's terrifying, so..." Ben tells her again, but despite the topic, it looks like he's starting to relax. Leslie thinks it's probably due to spending time with his brother, whom he clearly loves a lot. "Ulani didn't even make the trip--she and the baby stayed home too."
"Oh! Hey. Speaking of a baby--I have a present for you two in my car. I can bring it in later," Henry leans down to hug and kiss Leslie's cheek. "Congratulations! I'm mildly surprised you let this dork get you pregnant, but I wish you the best!"
Leslie laughs, returning her brother-in-law's hug. "Thank you. But there is another surprise too."
"Triplets," Ben says, grinning. "We found out last month."
"Where?" Henry looks around, and then turns back to Leslie, pointing at her stomach. "In there?"
"Yep," Ben answers proudly.
"Dude," Henry says, moving in for a high-five with Ben. "Way to impregnate."
Just then the door opens and an older woman with a slight resemblance to Ethel Beavers sticks her head in, a half-smoked cigarette dangling precariously from her mouth. "Break it up in here. Family photo in two minutes out back. Get your asses in gear," she instructs, before noticing the bag full of Twizzlers on the dresser. "And bring those," she adds, before slamming the door behind her.
"Oh my god. Aunt Lila's still alive?" Ben asks, moving over to the window and quickly opening it to let some fresh air into the room. To Leslie he adds, "That's my dad's older brother Teddy's...uh...special lady friend. He passed away eight years ago but apparently Lila's still around."
Henry nods his head. "She can't die. We think she's the Highlander--there can be only one."
Ben laughs after finishing the last phrase with his brother. "One time, when I was six, Henry bet me his Millennium Falcon model that I wouldn't go over to her during a family barbecue and steal a sausage from her plate. I did, and she stabbed me with her fork."
"What?" Leslie asks and for the first time honestly wonders if this side of Ben's family truly is a little crazy.
"Well," Henry interjects. "To be fair, she really just poked at you enthusiastically with her plastic spork. I'm not entirely sure she meant to hit you."
"I was six! She stabbed me! And then dad yelled at me and made me give her the sausage back, before mom poured that stinging stuff all over the wound. And you," he gives Henry an accusatory look, "just laughed and didn't even give me the model."
Henry snorts. "You gave the sausage back. You did not complete the task as requested."
"Where are those damn kids?" They hear a voice from down below.
Leslie thinks it sounds like Stephen Wyatt, Ben and Henry's father, but honestly all of the older Wyatt men seem to have similar voices. Quiet, gruff, and slightly menacing. She shakes her head. Nope. Now she's just letting Ben and Henry get to her--Ben's family is very nice, albeit a little quirky, and they've made her feel completely welcome since they've gotten here.
And she really does want to get to know the Wyatts better--especially now with the triplets on the way.
"I told them to come on out. Get out here with the Twizzlers, damn it! Photos!" Lila's unmistakable cranky yell travels up to the room.
"We need to go. We definitely do not want her to come up here again," Ben says, helping Leslie up. As she does the bed makes another horrendous squeak, just like it did when she sat down earlier.
"God you guys, that sucks for you later," Henry says knowingly, letting Leslie and then Ben pass through the doorway while he follows behind. "So bro, maybe I'll dare you to steal something off of Lila's plate at dinner."
"You'd have to give me something really good," Ben responds as they head downstairs, his hand firmly grasping hers. He gives it a squeeze. "Hey, did I ever tell you how Leslie stole the key to Partridge for me last year? I was really loopy on morphine, but she was so cute and it was so awesome."
***
Saturday, 3:00 PM
"Ben?" Leslie opens the door to the large closet and really, isn't all that surprised to find him standing there among all the coats and outdoor gear, a small light at the ceiling illuminating the space.
"Oh, hey," he responds, nodding causally like it's the most natural thing in the world to hide in a closet. Leslie joins him and shuts the door behind her.
"It's not that bad, honey. Everyone's family has stories about them wetting the bed. And camping mishaps. But I think the photos with all of us in the backyard will be really nice to have."
Ben smiles. "Yeah. They will. My family is weird but I still love them," he agrees. "And the embarrassing stories aren't that big of a deal, although I could certainly live without them. It's just..." he pauses. "Being here brings back a lot of memories. We only came a few times when I was a kid, but when we were here I used to think the house was haunted. It was always so loud, and my parents were always fighting, and everyone else was really, really into ice fishing and hunting. And competitive pie baking. And throwing things at you when you least expected it," Ben stops and tugs her closer, wraps his arms around her.
"Henry could always kind of fit in, but I never could relax here. And Stephanie was so little, she never really had to deal with it much before the divorce, but I always felt out of place when we visited from Partridge. But it's probably not too late for you," he pulls back to look at her. "No, it's too late. You're part of this now. I'm so sorry."
"Pie baking, huh?"
"Yeah. I think there's going to be a contest after brunch tomorrow. It could get ugly."
"Mmmmmmm but there'll be pie."
Ben laughs. "Okay, but after that, we are out of here."
"Okay," she agrees. They hug and kiss for awhile, Leslie completely content to hide in the closet with her husband and be his stress sham-wow.
"My dad's family hates my mom," she tells him quietly. "They never really liked her but they haven't spoken to her since after his funeral. They'll talk to me and send Christmas cards and all of that, but it's just weird. And navigating that is going to be even more complicated after we have our kids."
"Yeah," Ben agrees, kissing her temple.
"And if we ever visit here with the triplets, and I think we should, it might be uncomfortable at times. Maybe I'll even have to make another quilt specifically for the Wyatt clan, and believe me, I have a lot of ideas for the squares, but--"
"We can't hide in the closet when we bring our kids here."
"No," Leslie agrees.
"But it's so quiet."
"True."
"And nothing squeaks," Ben adds.
"Also true," she says, smiling and moving closer to him, before something catches her eye. "Oh my god, is that an Abraham Lincoln hat up on the shelf?"
"What?" Ben turns to look. "Um, yeah," he says, pulling it down. "This is a strange thing to find but not entirely surprising, to be honest."
Leslie grins at him. "Put it on."
"What? Now?"
She nods.
He smiles at her. "Okay."
Once the hat is on his head, Ben gets into character and starts speaking. "Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that--"
Leslie kisses him before he can get any further into the Gettysburg Address.
For a closet, although still dark, it is pretty spacious.
There's definitely enough room for Ben to unbutton her shirt, pull her bra up and over her breasts and to lick and tease her nipples with his teeth while she moans and giggles. There's also enough room for him to slide his hand into her pants and make her come easily and quickly, her cries muffled against his shoulder.
And there's definitely enough room for her to unzip Honest Abe's jeans and return the favor, sliding her hand around him, while she kisses Ben and tries to make him feel more grounded in the loud and unpredictable Minnesota home that always probably made his younger self so anxious.
Sure, they can't hide in this closet forever, but there's definitely no reason they can't hardcore, historical make-out for twenty minutes.
***
Saturday, 7:00 PM
"You're serious about following through this time and delivering the goods?"
"Yep. Just get me that last bacon-wrapped shrimp from her plate and it's all yours," Henry responds, holding the prize out in front of Ben teasingly. "Promise."
"She's using real silverware, though," Ben tells his brother, a slightly skeptical tone to his voice.
"Yeah, but the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward, Benji."
He looks at Lila again and then turns his attention to Leslie, who he spots easily on the other side of the large yard. She's laughing, her hand protectively around her stomach (the first time he's seen her do that) and seems to be involved in a pleasant conversation with his cousin Susan and her partner Beth.
Ben returns his focus to Henry and nods determinedly. "Bro, I'm going to go super get you that fucking bacon-wrapped shrimp."
***
Saturday, 9:30 PM
"Come on," he says, tugging her by the arm, away from the yard and towards the street in front.
"Ben, your hand. Let me look at it again."
"It's really okay. She didn't even break the skin this time. Old woman's losing her touch," he jokes.
Leslie laughs. "I don't understand why you let Henry talk you into that again? You're not six anymore."
"I know. But I got something really good this time."
"Better than the Millennium Falcon?"
"Yep," he waves the plastic Super 8 keycard at her. "Henry's room at the motel. We're taking that and he's staying here in our room."
"Really? Wait. What about our stuff?"
"I packed it all up while Aunt June was showing you her knives. And Henry still had his overnight bag in his SUV, so we're all set. Honey, seriously, come on," he takes her hand and leads her to their car. "Let's make a break for it before they notice we're gone. It's too quiet, I can almost guarantee there's going to be fighting soon, and then possibly everyone will start target shooting off the side of the barn in back. And in case you were wondering, yes, I grabbed the extra cake slices from the dessert table."
"But what about brunch tomorrow? I was going to help..." Leslie makes a face. "Susan? The tall woman with the bangs. Your parents ruined her son's graduation a couple of years ago? I think she's an Art History professor at--"
"Yeah, Susan. My cousin. She's normal."
"Right. Well, I was going to help her make the fruit salad and bake the cinnamon rolls tomorrow morning. Oh! And also, I think I talked my way onto the judging panel for the pie contest."
"You can still do all of that. We'll come back here before brunch, have some pie, and then we'll say goodbye to everyone, and head out for the Cities by two like we planned. Only this way, we can get a good night's sleep first."
"And have the extra cake slices for later tonight," Leslie finishes, tugging on his hand.
Ben grins and nods, kisses her thoroughly before opening the passenger door. "Yep. And I really am glad we came here. Thank you for talking me into it," he says, making Leslie smile in response. "But now, we have a bed that doesn't squeak waiting for us at Brainerd's finest motel. Let's go."