While You Were Sleeping: Chapter 1
Title: While You Were Sleeping: Chapter 1
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Word Count: About 2000
Rating: PG-13
Setting: AU season 3
Summary: Ben Wyatt is living a quiet, routine life until one event turns everything upside-down. Basically, it's the plot of While You Were Sleeping in the Parks-verse.
Chapter One
Ann Perkins is beautiful. Smart. Caring. Funny. Active. Renowned in the field of nursing.
Ben learns all of this about her before he meets her.
It's the same thing any time Chris gets a new girlfriend. He comes in one day, beaming more than usual, and reigns down the same parade of stale adjectives that describe all of his girlfriends. Of the ones Ben has met, they typically are beautiful, smart, caring, funny, active, and renowned in their various fields of work. So when he finally meets Ann Perkins, he's not surprised that she's entirely within Chris' wheelhouse.
She's also blatantly head-over-heels for Chris.
The first day he meets her, she arrives at the office at lunchtime, still in scrubs and smiling like Chris is the only person on the planet. It possibly explains why she doesn't notice Ben until he's witnessed two awkward displays of affection and three comments better saved for private.
"Isn't she perfect?" asks Chris when he returns from lunch that afternoon.
Ben, who has heard this same speech too many times, doesn't even bother to tear his eyes from the computer as he nods. "She seems great."
"She is. And so interesting. Did you know she can crochet? She's making me a scarf."
"Neat."
"Perhaps we should double date sometime. Ann has many wonderful friends. She's so vivacious. I'm sure one of them would be perfect for you."
Ben nods noncommittally. He has no desire to double date with Ann and Chris. Given Chris' track record and Ann's obvious affection for him, though, he gives the relationship six weeks, tops.
"You have to take risks sometimes, Ben," says Chris, who is now doing his after-lunch sit-ups, "or else there's no reward. It's one of my most important mantras."
Ben sees neither risk nor reward in wasting a night on a double date with Chris, except for possibly missing a new episode of Doctor Who. He doesn't respond, though. Chris, as usual, doesn't notice.
The next day, Chris hands him a magnet that says, "No risk, no reward."
For some inexplicable reason, Ben puts it on his fridge.
The Ann Perkins weeks, as Ben is already referring to them in his mind, continue right on schedule. After two weeks, Chris is listing one of her best qualities for each after lunch sit-up. By week three, he's talking about how much he loves her. By week four, they're seeing each other almost every day, which inevitably leads to Chris beginning to lose interest by week six.
He never seems to understand why. It sneaks up slowly until one day he comes to work saying things like, "Ann Perkins is so interesting. But she used to be so much more interesting. Have you noticed?"
Ben, who has seen Ann approximately half a dozen times in person, can't comment on whether or not she's an interesting person. Judging by the workout clothes she was wearing last week, though, he would certainly guess that she's been sucked too far into Chris' orbit.
The breakup seems inevitable. A couple of weeks before Christmas, Chris decides to take use his annual ski trip and meditation retreat as time to think about their relationship. Ben assumes they'll be done by the new year.
*****
On December 22, Ben and Chris both arrive at the office before the sun is in the sky. Ben is determined to get some work done before the office Christmas party inevitably cuts into his productivity. Chris is leaving for Colorado that afternoon, and needs to finish some things up before his trip. They work in an amicable silence for most of the morning, the quiet only occasionally broken by Chris' cheerful humming. His excitement about "ten days away from the buzz of civilization" is palpable.
The rest of the office begins to break down sometime around noon. Chris goes out to join the festivities for a little while, and Ben shuts the door and secludes himself at his desk. It's a little over an hour before Chris returns, two glasses in hand and a slightly glassy look in his eye that indicates someone got him to have a drink while he was at the party.
"You leaving?" asks Ben as Chris sets down the drinks on his desk and then heads over to his own. His desk is immaculate, but he still takes a minute to adjust his pencil cup and put away his calculator before he turns back to Ben.
"Is there anything more exhilarating than the anticipation of a well-earned vacation?" asks Chris.
Ben's last vacation was to visit his parents in Minnesota. Dread might have been a more accurate word for what he felt then.
"Let's toast," says Chris, coming back to Ben's desk and picking up one of the glasses. Ben raises an eyebrow, but he grabs the other glass and lifts it. "To the new year," says Chris. "And new beginnings."
"Cheers," says Ben, tapping his glass against Chris'.
His office-mate smiles, sipping the drink and then tossing the remaining contents into the wastepaper basket. Ben downs his in one gulp.
By the time Chris leaves, the office party is in full swing. Ben shuts the door again, determined to get in at least another hour or two of work before he joins the festivities. He barely has twenty minutes to himself, though, when someone opens the door too hard and it slams into his desk, rattling his lampshade and making him hit the wrong number on his calculator. He sighs, thinking for the hundredth time that he really needs a bigger office (or a desk that's not crammed into the corner by the door), but his wallowing is cut short by a too-eager voice that says, "Who's ready for some ski-tastic fun?"
For a second, he actually thinks Chris is back. Instead, it's just his girlfriend, echoing his words in such an uncanny manner that it's almost spooky. Chris actually said the word "ski-tastic" when he left.
Ann, luggage in tow, finally manages to make her way into the office, but her face falls considerably when she sees that Ben is the only one here.
"Hey," she says, sounding much more like herself instead of the Chris-clone. "Sorry. I figured you'd be out there." She nods her head toward the ruckus coming from the bullpen of the office and then looks around again, as though she could have missed Chris somehow. "You're not one for office parties?"
"Just trying to finish some things up before the break," he says.
"Right. So, uh, is Chris out there? I didn't see him when I walked through …"
"Chris?"
"Yeah. I know I'm a little late. My best friend insisted on helping me pack. It took me awhile to convince her that I didn't need the fingerless gloves."
"Uh-Look, Ann …"
"Sometimes she doesn't hear me when I say things, you know."
"Yeah," says Ben. "Speaking of, I don't know what Chris told you about his plans …" He trails off, waiting for Ann to interrupt or say that she just came to say goodbye before jetting off to Paris or something that is going to relieve him from being the bearer of bad news, but she just stares at him. "He, uh, kind of left."
Ann laughs, a nervous titter that Ben's heard every time he's had to translate Chris-speak into reality. That he's just fucking with me giggle. When he doesn't react, he can see the tension wash across Ann's face. "What do you mean?" she asks. "He told me we were going skiing in Colorado for Christmas. He invited me to come."
"Did he?" asks Ben. It comes out harsher than he means it to, and Ann glares at him.
"Of course," she snaps. "I distinctly remember. We were talking about our plans for Christmas, and I said that I didn't have anything special planned, and then he said he was going skiing, and then I said that sounded wonderful and …"
Ann's eyes widen as she trails off, and he can see the recognition dawn in their depths. As many times as he's seen this happen, it's still just as awkward as the first time.
"Oh my god."
"I'm sorry."
"Oooh my god," she groans, sinking down on the edge of Chris' desk. "How did I-Why didn't he-" She buries her face in her hands. "I'm an idiot."
"You're not."
"I am."
"It's just Chris," says Ben consolingly. "It happens all the time."
Ann groans louder.
"I mean, not all the time. It's just, you know how positive he makes everything sound …"
Ann whimpers, and he says a silent prayer that she doesn't start to cry. He stands, putting out a hand toward her shoulder and then retracting it. "It's not as bad as it seems. It's just how Chris is."
"A jerk?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
Ann finally lifts her head from her hands. He's relieved to see that her cheeks aren't tear-stained. When she sees him, though, her embarrassment seems to heighten. "I'm sorry," she says, standing and blindly grabbing for her suitcase. "I, uh, I'm just going to get out of your hair. Sorry."
She makes a beeline toward the door (which, admittedly, isn't far), and before he can so much as glance at his abandoned spreadsheet, Ben finds himself speaking again. "Look, do you want to maybe get a cup of coffee. Vent a little?"
"No, thank you," says Ann. "I'm just going to go home and curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment."
"Right."
"Sorry. Again."
He nods, but Ann is already out the door.
Out in the hall, the party is still going on, the noise worse than it was when he sequestered himself earlier, but he can't quite bring himself to close the door. This isn't the first time that he's had to break bad news to one of Chris' girlfriends, and as always, he's left unsettled and feeling worse than Chris ever will about the situation. He kind of wishes he could punch Chris in the face. He might, if Chris wasn't the closest thing he had to a friend.
Aimlessly, he steps over to Chris' desk. As usual, it's immaculate. Without really thinking about it, he starts rearranging the color-coded post-its that cover part of the surface. When he's done, he snatches the brand new stack of orange post-its and tosses them into the trash.
Vengeance.
It doesn't make him feel any better.
He sighs, looking out the window at the gray slush that covers the streets, frowning as he spies Ann, her bright purple suitcase still in tow. She's pacing back and forth outside the building, gesticulating wildly as she talks into her cell phone. He wonders who she's talking to. Chris? His voicemail? The mysterious best friend with the fingerless glove fetish?
He shakes his head, ready to turn back to his desk and put Ann out of his mind (he's already sure he'll never see her again), when suddenly there's a commotion from the street. It's so loud that he can hear it three floors up, even with the party going on outside his door. The screech of brakes. A horn blasting. He looks down again, and his heart flies into his throat.
He's out the door before he can say a word. Past his drunken coworkers. Past the elevator. Straight down the stairs two at a time. His cell phone is already out and dialed by the time he bursts out into the street, ignoring the blast of frigid air.
The driver fled. He's gone by the time Ben reaches Ann. Her body is contorted. She's bleeding from her forehead. Her suitcase is a mangled mess beside her.
That's it, he thinks, just as the 911 operator picks up. This time, I really am going to punch Chris.
Chapter Two