Tumblr Fic
Tumblr Fic
Untitled - Andy living on his own
Illustrated by...? - Who illustrated Groffle the Awful Waffle
One More Month - Ben/April D.C. friendship
Housewarming - Ben and Leslie christen their new house
Moving Day - Ben moving out
Power Outage - Power goes out at Donna's lake house
Announcement - Ben and Leslie tell the dept. they're engaged
Party Planning - Planning Ben/Leslie's bachelor/bachelorette parties
(If I knew how to do links within a livejournal post, I would, but I am not that savvy with this site. Sorry for all the scrolling).
Untitled - Andy living on his own.
Living alone sucks.
Okay, so he’s not exactly alone. He has Champion. And now that Ben’s gone, he never turns off the TV, which is almost like having a whole bunch of people in the house. And sometimes he’ll blast his Mouse Rat CDs and maybe simultaneously play April’s weird, sad music on his iPod just to make sure the house doesn’t get too quiet.
But mostly, yeah, it sucks.
It’s just that Andy has never lived alone, ever, except for those few months when he was living in the pit, and that doesn’t really count because Ann was right there and he had his vermin colleagues and the neighbors were always out throwing their garbage away and stuff. Now it’s just him in the house. April and Ben are gone, it turns out Leslie hasn’t moved in like Andy thought, and the campaign is over, so there’s no longer a constant rotation of people in and out of the house.
“Think of this as a chance to learn the value of silence, son,” Ron tells him after Andy spends an hour trying to convince him to come over and play Xbox after work. Since Ron is the smartest man he knows, Andy goes home, turns off the TV and sits on the couch with Champion, but he only lasts five minutes before he can feel the silence getting ready to choke him (and he’s pretty sure he saw that happen in a horror movie once, so he’s not taking any chances). That night he runs the vacuum, too, just to make sure there’s enough noise. It works pretty well until he sucks up the cord of the cell phone charger and the vacuum stops working.
It’s during his third week alone that he gets one of his most brilliant ideas ever; he mixes together what’s left of Ben’s and April’s shower stuff and uses it to wash his clothes (because no matter what Ben says, soap is soap and all of it gets stuff clean). Unfortunately, it doesn’t work out exactly the way he expects-like being wrapped in a roomie/hot wife hug that can surround him all day long. Actually, it’s nothing like that at all, a fact that’s confirmed when he sees Leslie at work the next day and makes her take a whiff of his sleeve.
“Leslie, you’re an expert in Ben’s smells, right?” he asks earnestly, ignoring how Leslie takes a step back and furrows her brow.
“Andy, what-”
“Can you smell him in my shirt?” He lifts the arm that he just waved in Leslie’s face and takes another strong sniff. Mostly it kind of smells like old corn chips, which is definitely not how April smells, so he thinks maybe he used too much of Ben’s soap in his experiment. Although, he doesn’t exactly remember Ben smelling like corn chips either, so…
“Why would your shirt smell like Ben?”
“Science.” Leslie still looks confused, so Andy guesses the shirt doesn’t smell like Ben either. Or maybe corn chips is just the way Ben and April smell together, and if that’s the case- “Man, it’s a good thing they’ll never have a kid, right?”
“What? Who?”
But Andy’s already stopped listening. He wonders if he has any of April’s soap left so he can mix it with his and find out what their kid would smell like. Skittles, he hopes. Or maybe turkey chilli…
That night, he checks, but it turns out that he used up all the soap in his first experiment, which is super disappointing. As a poor substitute, he tries sniffing April’s sweater and his t-shirt at the same time, and he’s beginning to wonder if he’s the one who smells like corn chips when April calls.
“Hey, babe, if we had a kid, what would it smell like?” he asks without preamble.
“Old bubblegum.”
He thinks of the taste of sticky sugar on April’s lips and the slight hint of watermelon when she uses her tongue to slip her gum into his mouth and yeah, he thinks, that would be awesomesauce.
April never talks much on the phone, but the sound of her breathing and the snap of her gum is enough to expand through the whole house and fill in all the little cracks of loneliness. Most nights she hangs up first, but some nights he just talks until her breathing evens out and he knows she’s asleep. This night is one of the latter. He takes a minute to picture her sleeping, her hair fanned out over her pillow and the slight smile she gets on her lips that she would hate if she knew it existed, and then he clicks off the phone and scratches Champion’s head.
Sleeping is the easiest part, honestly. Some nights he just slumps over on the couch, some nights he stumbles to bed and sleeps with his face smashed into April’s pillow. The work day is filled with texts from April (he shares the photo messages of “stupid Ben” with Leslie), and he finds himself looking forward to it more than sitting at home playing video games or watching TV alone. He and Chris take Champion on a walk most nights after work, and that helps too.\
It’s a routine. And it’s not as perfect as the one he had when April was here, but it’s not all bad either.
One night after work, he’s asleep on the couch (naps are pretty usual now; actually, they were pretty usual before, too), when a loud thud jolts him awake. He rubs his eyes, pretty disoriented, but then there’s another sound from the back of the house, and suddenly Andy’s wide awake. He can feel, in only the way someone who has been living alone can, that someone else is in the house, and he isn’t in the process of considering maybe applying to the police academy for nothing.
He rolls off of the couch, crawls to the kitchen, and scans the room for a weapon. The best-and most immediate-solution he comes up with is the fire extinguisher Ben made them buy, and he snatches it up and begins to stealthily maneuver toward the bedrooms. As he gets closer, he can hear the intruder quite clearly in Ben’s bedroom, and he wonders if catching a criminal mastermind means they’d make him a police officer, no training required.
Without thinking, he kicks Ben’s door open and bursts into the room, already spraying the extinguisher in every direction. “Freeze scumbag!”
There’s an undeniably feminine shriek, he catches a flash of blonde hair through the fog of white smoke penetrating the room, and then he hears, “Andy! Andy, stop! It’s me! Leslie Knope, councilwoman and deputy director of the parks department!”
“Leslie?” Andy fumbles to stop the extinguisher and takes a step into the room. He can now see that Leslie is, in fact, standing on Ben’s bed, batting helplessly at the quickly dissipating white fog. “Oh man, did I get you?”
“Not much.” Andy drops the extinguisher and holds out his hand, helping Leslie off of the bed. She glances around Ben’s room, wrinkling her nose, and man, Ben is going to be pissed when he gets home. It’s already starting to smell kind of weird. Leslie must think so too; she opens the window and then leads Andy out to the living room.
“Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I thought you were a burglar. Good thing I just had that fire extinguisher and not my baseball bat, huh?”
Leslie’s eyes widen. “Yeah,” she agrees. “And next time, I’ll knock.”
“Hey, come on, Leslie. You know you’re welcome here whenever.”
“Yeah…Still…”
“So, uh, you wanna hang out or something? We could have a water balloon fight! Oh! Or maybe you could help me clip my toenails. It’s kind of a two man job, and with April gone-”
“Oh, no! Andy. Maybe I-I’ll just go.”
“No, seriously, Leslie. It’s too quiet here, you know? And you used to hang out all the time.”
Leslie flashes a smile and sinks down on the arm of the couch. It’s really is the first time she’s been here since Ben left, and Andy realizes that even though he still sees Leslie every day, he’s missed her too. Maybe not all the weird sex noises she and Ben used to make, but definitely her endless chocolate supply and how she’d sing along with him when a good song came on during a movie and the way she’d always save the comics in the newspaper for him (they don’t even deliver the newspaper anymore now that Ben is gone).
“So,” he says, “what were you doing in Ben’s room?”
Leslie’s eyes flash. “Oh, nothing…Nothing…I was just…You know…cleaning?”
“Really? ‘Cause the whole house is kind of a mess-”
“No, Andy. No. I-” Leslie glances at the spaghetti stain on the carpet and then looks up with a strange, very un-Leslie-like smile. “I miss Ben.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I…I got home tonight and I was lying in bed working on my proposal for the river cleanup and suddenly I realized, I couldn’t smell him in my sheets anymore. It’s silly, but I thought…maybe I’d sleep here tonight?”
“You should totally stay here!” Andy blurts out, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest-that horrible achy feeling he’s had ever since April left that is somehow worse when Leslie’s sitting in front of him talking about missing Ben and looking inexplicably smaller and sadder than he’s ever seen her. It’s easier to focus on the idea of Leslie staying here, even if it’s only for a night. “I just bought a Slip ‘n’ Slide and I was thinking about setting it up in the living room-”
“Or,” Leslie interrupts, “maybe I could make pancakes and we could watch a movie.”
“Yeah, okay.” He grins, and Leslie’s face, finally, brightens in that sunshiny way. She slides off the couch, steps toward him and gives him a tight hug. Leslie is really good at hugs. It’s nice and cuddly and she smells strongly of sugar.
“Man,” he says, “you and Ben are gonna have the best smelling kids.”
Leslie’s laugh fills up the house better than the TV ever has.
**********
Illustrated by…? - Who illustrated Groffle the Awful Waffle.
“I don’t know, Leslie. Why don’t you go to Jerry? Or even Mark…You could call Mark.”
“No, Ann. I want you!”
“And I’m flattered, but I don’t know if this is my area of expertise.”
“Look,” Leslie says, grasping Ann’s hand and staring at her with misplaced faith, “I know you’re an artistically challenged butterfly, but this is the perfect project for you. Your childlike drawing skills will translate beautifully. Ann, please. Please, Ann. Please, please, please.”
The word ‘no’ begs to burst from Ann’s mouth, but as usual Leslie’s unfettered begging defies instinct. She sighs, already regretting this before she even speaks. “…Fine.”
“Great! I’ll need initial sketches by the end of the week and then we’ll review and final pages will be due by next Friday, okay?”
Ann nods dimly. “And what is this story about exactly?”
“Well the main character’s a waffle. You can draw a waffle, right?”
“Um, sure, I guess.”
“Of course you can, Ann! I have total faith in you!” Leslie reaches into her bag and pulls out a manuscript, handing it over reverently. “This will be our best collaboration yet!”
Ann can only nod.
Two days later, Ann finds herself sitting in campaign headquarters, trying to come up with two pictures of Groffle that look even remotely alike. The fact that she can’t even handle the main character doesn’t bode well for things like setting or Leslie’s antagonist, Stan Puffin the Bran Muffin.
“What is that?” April asks, leaning over the couch behind Ann. For once, her interruption is more than welcome.
“Leslie asked me to illustrate the children’s book she wrote.”
“It looks like a cat having sex with a pancake.”
“Awesome. That’s exactly what I was going for.”
April’s face goes from impassive to slightly appreciative, which is basically a victory in Ann’s book. “Look,” she says, “you can draw. Can you help me out with this?”
“No. I want you to fail.”
“April…” Ann picks up the manuscript and hands it back over the couch. “It’s not for me, you know. Leslie’s the one who needs this finished.”
April rolls her eyes and audibly groans. “Fine. But I get to sneak in at least one dead body. And you can’t tell Leslie I helped.”
As Ann suspected, April is more than capable, whipping out the drawings with an ease Ann envies. The pictures even look appropriate for a children’s book, except for the corpse in the syrup river. But even Ann knows that should be a simple fix when she colors the pictures (it’s the only task both she and April agree she can handle). By the time they’re done, it’s actually not half-bad.
Her assessment, of course, pales in comparison to Leslie’s. When Ann shows her the next day, Leslie declares it “the finest work of literature the world has ever seen.” She’s so enthusiastic, she even agrees that a second draft is unnecessary.
“Just one thing, Les,” says Ann as Leslie reads through the book for the tenth time. “Maybe don’t put my name on it.”
“But Ann-”
“Leslie, seriously. I don’t feel right about it.” Ann hesitates, but explanation seems necessary lest Leslie decide they release an entire series of books together. “I may have had a little help.”
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. We can put both your names on it!”
“Actually, I think this person would prefer to remain anonymous. She doesn’t like anyone knowing she has a heart.”
Recognition dawns in Leslie’s eyes, and if anything, she smiles even more widely. “You and April did this together?”
“Something like that. So no illustrators’ credit, okay?”
“Fine,” Leslie agrees. She shuts the book and strokes the cover lovingly. “This time. But your names are definitely going on the next one.”
Ann sighs.
**********
One More Month - Some post-Sex Education musings. April/Ben friendship.
It’s Andy’s fault.
April reminds herself of this on a regular basis. Andy’s fault that she’s working this boring job. Andy’s fault that she’s stuck with Ben for company. Andy’s fault that she’s in D.C. at all. When Ben had asked her to go with him, it had been Andy who’d sat up with her late that night, talking about taking chances and learning to fly. It had been Andy who’d said, “Someone has to look out for Ben. We can’t just let him go off alone. He needs you.”
April still doesn’t know why that person had to be her. She doesn’t know why she listened to Andy in the first place. (Aside from the fact that she’d seen the slightly fearful look in Ben’s eyes when he’d told them he was leaving-a look that haunted her in ways she didn’t want to admit.) It feels like an obligation, though; a promise she didn’t realize she was making at the time, but now has to stick to for both their sakes.
So at least a couple of nights a week, April forces Ben to leave the office when she does and drags him to the bar. They sit and drink and talk about everything but the fact that they want to go home. It would be depressing if it wasn’t such a good distraction; she’d hate it if she didn’t need it as much as Ben does.
Tonight is a bit easier than others. They’re both still laughing over the congressman’s robotic tendencies, veering into wilder territory the more drinks they have.
“He’s married, right?” April says somewhere around her third drink. She’s feeling more relaxed than usual, more at ease with making Ben laugh instead of cringe. “Can you imagine their sex life?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Oh Debra-”
“His wife’s name is Allison, actually.”
“-this sexual intercourse was satisfactory. Thank you for your hard work. Stay cool. It’s a hot one out there.”
“Stop,” Ben chastises, but he’s chuckling into his drink. He takes another long draw of his beer and then sets the bottle on the bar, fingers trailing absentmindedly along the neck. He’s less uptight tonight as well. Usually, unless they’re at work, he’s faraway and maudlin. Not quite as bad as his breakup with Leslie last year when his mood swung from depressed to pissed in an instant, but still hard to sit by and watch. This-buzzed and amused-is better.
“This campaign thing is more boring than I thought it would be,” she says. “Compared to Leslie’s. I mean, at least she had a sex scandal, even if it was with you.”
Ben bobs his head, a slow, calculating nod. Most of the time, she’s slow to bring up Leslie when they’re trying to distract themselves from missing home (and, much as she’s loathe to admit it, Ben shows her the same consideration), but his mood makes her think that he won’t dissolve into tears at the bar tonight. He smiles, almost to himself, and musingly says, “Leslie is passionate.”
“Ew.”
Ben ignores her. It’s possible he didn’t even hear her, given how lost in his own thoughts he seems. “That’s what draws people in. That’s why people voted for her…believed in her. That’s why they should believe in her. It’s genuine.”
April tips her head forward so her hair covers her face like a curtain. It’s embarrassing: how frank he’s being; how unabashedly he loves Leslie; how much she understands what he means. It’s why she fell in love with Andy-that stupid, genuine enthusiasm he has for everything that is patently uncool, but so attractive to be around. So heart-stopping to have directed at her. It must be the same for Ben with Leslie.
She misses Andy so much more than she wants to admit, even to herself.
Ben flicks a peanut at the side of her head, and April turns toward him with a glare. She’s met by eyes that are too sympathetic, and it sucks because she’s always trying to avoid feeling anything about being so far from Andy. They’ve inadvertently broken a pact they made.
“You’re right, though,” Ben says, thankfully giving April something else to focus on. “Leslie’s campaign was a lot more fun.”
“I guess.”
“And I got to have a lot more sex.”
“Oh god.”
Ben grins and picks up his beer, inclining it toward her in invitation. “One more month,” he says, and somehow the acknowledgement feels like hope.
“One more month.”
**********
Housewarming - For galentines: Ben and Leslie christening the new house.
“What are you doing?”
“Hmm? Oh nothing.”
Ben lies on his stomach, his face smashed into a pillow, feeling on the verge of passing out except for the persistent scratching of Leslie’s pen. It’s not unusual-Leslie is a ball of energy regardless of the time of day, her state of exhaustion, or, apparently, whether they’ve just had mind-blowing sex for the first time in their bed in their new house. Sure, maybe he kind of hoped that moving in and spending the day unpacking and showering together and then testing out the durability of their new bed might cause Leslie to join him in this post-coital coma, but apparently that is not the case.
Lazily, he turns his head and blinks up at Leslie. She’s absorbed in her note-taking, her brow furrowed in concentration, and he has the urge to kiss away the little crease in her forehead. He settles for leaning forward and pressing his lips to the outside of her thigh, smiling as she squirms. “That tickles,” she says absently, pen still moving across paper.
Her inability to be distracted is absolutely infuriating sometimes. But it won’t be for a lack of trying on his part.
Ben hooks his arm over her legs, hugging her thighs, and then lowers his mouth to blow a raspberry over the same spot he just kissed. Leslie shrieks, instinctively thrashing to get away from him, but because he’s still holding her legs, the most she manages to do is squirm down in the bed. Before she can escape, he drapes himself over her body, her pelvis pinned under his abdomen as he makes a swipe at her notebook. Tauntingly, she holds it just out of his reach.
“Ben!” she chastises, half-laughing, half-whining. “What are you doing?”
“It’s our first night in the new house. Whatever you’re brainstorming can wait one night.”
“And what exactly do you propose as an alternative?”
Ben grins, shifting his weight off of her so he can lie alongside her, his head next to hers on her pillow. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush to his chest, and drops a couple of lazy kisses on her shoulder. “God you’re needy,” sighs Leslie, but he can feel her smile in her whole body.
“You’re going to slow down for one night and let me hold you.”
“And bossy.” She drops her right hand to his forearm, trailing the bottom of her pen along his skin. “Don’t you even want to know what I was writing?”
“No?”
Leslie turns in his arms, forcing him onto his back and propping her weight up on one elbow. She tosses the notebook onto his torso, and with exaggerated reluctance, he picks it up.
Kitchen
Living room
Dining room
Bedroom
Master bathroom
Office
Oprah suite
Laundry ro-
“Leslie, what is this?” he asks, eyes following the long scratch her pen made from where he tackled her mid-word.
“A list of rooms in the house.”
“Yeah, but…Why?”
“The ones I’ve scratched out are the ones we’ve already…you know…christened, and the rest of the list is what we still have left.”
“You’re making a list of places to have sex in the house?”
“Well, yeah.”
Who doesn’t do that? her tone implies.
“How do you feel about a nooner?” she asks, ignoring the half-incredulous, half-awed look he’s giving her. “Wait, do you know what that is?”
“Uh…Yes. But why-”
“I thought we could take a break around noon tomorrow. Tackle the office. I want to test the sturdiness of our new desk.”
Ben tosses the notebook aside, wrapping his arms around Leslie and pulling her forward for a rather heady kiss. When she pulls back, she looks slightly dazed. “Ben?”
He rolls out of bed, reaching for her hand and urging her to follow. “Come on.”
“What?”
Ben turns to give her another kiss, still leading her toward the door. “I can’t wait until noon,” he mumbles, hand drifting from Leslie’s waist down to her ass.
“Oooh.”
**********
Moving Day - For daenerysknope: Ben and Leslie moving day fic.
4:45am
The door opens with a bang, breaking the stillness of the early morning, and startling both Ben and Leslie from their sleep. Leslie bolts upright, immediately awake; Ben, on the other hand, groans loudly and rubs a hand over his eyes.
“It’s moving day!”
The lights flick on, revealing Andy clad only in his boxers, grinning like it’s Christmas morning. “You guys! It’s moving day!”
Ben stares at his roommate incredulously. “It’s also-” He fumbles for his watch. “-4:47 in the morning. Why are you awake?”
“It’s moving day!” Andy just shouts again, and then, giggling, turns and runs from the room, neither shutting the door nor turning out the lights.
Ben throws an arm over his eyes, determined to block out the light. “I didn’t even know he could wake up this early.”
“He likes helping people move.”
“Obviously.”
Ben rolls over, wrapping an arm around one of Leslie’s legs and letting sleep wash over him like a warm blanket. He’s nearly asleep again when Leslie rolls away from him. “Leslie.” He draws out her name, close to whining, and winces at the sound of Leslie opening the curtains.
“It’s practically time to get up anyway,” she explains cheerfully.
6:04am
“April said if I tried to wake her up one more time, she’d divorce me,” says Andy, crashing onto the couch. “I think she might be serious this time. She really likes sleeping.”
“It’s fine,” grumbles Ben. At Leslie’s prodding, he managed to move from his bedroom to the living room, but he’s still in his pajamas and half-asleep. She’s already showered, dressed, and in the kitchen making an absurd amount of waffles. “We can’t pick up the truck until nine anyway.”
“But we can pack, right? Packing is the best! You get to play with those packing peanuts and the tape and-oh! Dude! Did you get any bubble wrap?”
“Andy, I finished packing two days ago.”
“You packed without me?”
9:17am
“Andy, hurry up! Ben’s going to be back with the truck any minute.”
Andy, a piece of tape clinging to his hair, turns to look at Leslie, overturning the box he’d been unpacking and then repacking. There’s an alarming clatter of noise, and several of Ben’s DVDs slide out of the box onto the floor. “Got it, boss!” He grabs an alarmingly large amount of bubble wrap, scoops up about ten of the DVDs and starts wrapping them.
“You don’t have to wrap them…”
April wanders up behind her, a towel around her head, and scowls. “Aren’t you guys gone yet?”
12:38pm
After the “hellish nightmare” (Tom’s words, to Leslie’s great annoyance) that was packing and moving the contents of Leslie’s house, Ann is the only one other than Andy who shows up to help with Ben’s stuff. April spends the morning lying on the couch reading a magazine and occasionally shouting discouragement at whoever walks past her with a box.
It doesn’t stop her from joining them for pizza.
“You still owe us six months of rent,” she says, leaning against the counter and glaring at Ben. “And a new couch since you and Leslie ruined ours during all your secret make-out sessions. And I also want to be paid retroactively for my silence while you guys were sneaking around. Cash only. I don’t accept checks.”
Ben wraps an arm around her neck and gives her a noogie. It effectively shuts her up for about an hour.
2:51pm
“We’re leaving,” Ben shouts to the seemingly empty house. Andy and April mysteriously disappeared about an hour ago, and as much as he doesn’t want to investigate why, he would like to say goodbye. “April? Andy?”
There’s a shout, almost a cheer, from the back of the house, and Leslie frowns curiously. “What are they doing back there?”
“Les, I wouldn’t…”
Leslie ignores him, and Ben has little choice but to follow her back toward the source of the noise. It’s coming from his bedroom, of course, because god forbid they wait until he was physically gone to defile it. Leslie presses her ear to the door for a minute, and then, to Ben’s horror, opens it.
“What the hell?”
Andy and April stand in the middle of the room, a bucket of balloons next to them. Everything in the room is covered in paint-the carpet, the walls, the window, April and Andy themselves-speckles and splats and runny lines in a rainbow of colors.
April picks up a balloon and chucks it at the wall. It explodes on contact, spraying paint everywhere.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Andy turns, a large smear of blue paint over his left eye. “Oh hey, guys. We’re redecorating. Wanna help?”
“No.”
April scoops up another balloon, twisting to face the door and grinning evilly. Ben just manages to slam the door shut when he hears the balloon make contact. The room erupts in devilish laughter, and Ben rolls his eyes.
“So,” says Leslie, wrapping her arms around his waist and going up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his jaw. “You ready to move in with me?”
“God yes.”
“Good. Although I was thinking, maybe we could learn some decorating tips from April.”
“Like what not to do.”
Leslie giggles, taking his hand and leading him out of the house. “Exactly.”
**********
Power Outage - For boldsunshine: The power goes out while during a party at Donna's lake house.
”Dammit, Jerry!”
“What? This is not my fault, guys!”
“Well I don’t know who else could possibly be to blame.”
“The weather. Or-or April, maybe. If anyone controls the weather…”
“Don’t try to compliment me, Jerry.”
“Nobody move!”
Donna’s voice cuts through the commotion, silencing the bickering. It’s too dark to make out more than the dim forms of people, but it’s clear that at Donna’s command, no one moves a muscle. “Listen up,” she snaps. “No one’s going anywhere until the power comes back on. I won’t have any of you stumbling in the dark and breaking something. We clear?”
“Donna, I’m sure I could solve this problem if you just-”
“Nuh-uh. Not even you, Swanson. Got it?”
There’s a low grumble of agreement from everyone, and then the room quiets for a moment, only to be interrupted by Jerry. “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
“Don’t. Even. Think. About it.”
“Come on, guys,” says Leslie, entirely too brightly considering they’re stuck at a remote lake house without power. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“Strip poker!”
“What’s the point of playing strip poker in the dark?”
“Well what do you suggest, Ben?” Tom snaps. “And don’t you dare say Risk.”
“How about the alphabet game?”
“Ugh-Jerry! That’s worse than Ben’s stupid idea!”
“I didn’t suggest anything.”
“And that’s still better than the alphabet game!”
“We could play Truth or Dare,” suggests Ann. “Except I guess not being able to move might make doing a dare hard.”
“Or we could sit and enjoy the silence,” barks Ron, “since Donna refuses to let me solve this problem.”
“Ugh! Donna, this is stupid. Can’t we at least get some alcohol and play Never Have I Ever?”
“And watch Jerry spill wine all over my couch? Nuh-uh. And you two!” Donna reaches out and kicks Andy’s leg, jostling him and April. “Stop making out!”
“Seven minutes in heaven!” shouts Tom.
Everyone groans.
**********
Announcement - For ohlittlerachel: Telling the department the good news
”Alright, guys, listen up!”
Aside from Ann and Chris, the entire department ignores Leslie, which isn’t entirely unusual given how often she enters the room with an announcement to make. She still bristles at the notion that they don’t grasp the importance here, though. Sensing this, Ben squeezes her waist reassuringly, and Leslie takes a deep breath.
“After six months as the most amazing, brilliant, adorable political consultant D.C. has ever seen, Ben is back.”
“As am I!” April stands up and takes a bow. Then she glares at Jerry, sliding her finger across her throat in a threatening gesture.
“Yes,” agrees Leslie, ignoring the fact that April’s been back for a week now. “But that’s not all.” She takes a deep breath, glancing up at Ben and then over at sweet and beautiful Ann, who has known almost since the moment it happened. Ann smiles excitedly and nods.
“Ben and I are engaged.” She holds up her hand, flashing the ring around the room, unable to stop the grin that’s been perpetually plastered on her face for almost twenty-four hours.
“Oh. My. God.” Chris rushes toward them, pulling them both in for a hug at the same time. Leslie can already feel his tears on her neck. “This is literally the best news I’ve ever heard. There’s nothing more beautiful than two people joining their lives together forever. Nothing.” He pulls back and plants a loud, sloppy kiss on Ben’s forehead. “Excuse me. I have to call my therapist.”
“Uh…” Ben raises an eyebrow, watching as Chris leaves the room, still bawling as he pulls out his phone. “…Okay.”
“It’s his thing now,” says Leslie. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I call best man,” shouts Tom abruptly. “Only best man. No one else shoehorning in on my special day this time.” Tom looks around the room, ignoring Ben’s nauseated glare and Leslie’s eye roll. No one else reacts, beyond Ann, who looks annoyed. “Aw, cupcake,” he says, giving her a playful chuck under the chin. “I know walking down the aisle with me will stir up regrets, but you’ll get through it. For Leslie.”
“When’s the wedding?” asks Andy excitedly. “Tomorrow? No, wait. You guys like to plan. Next Saturday?”
“Oh we haven’t-”
“Yeah, yeah,” says Donna, coming up and grasping Leslie’s hand. “We’ll get to all that. Let’s see this rock.”
“I have so many ideas for the bachelor party,” Tom says, throwing an arm around Ben’s shoulders and dragging him away. “How do you feel about Bengal tigers?”
“Uh-”
“Jerry, Bengal tigers at the bachelor party-yes or no?”
“Oh Tom, I don’t think-”
“See! You have to have them.” He drops his voice. “Jerry’s not invited, by the way. Cool people only. No, scratch that-you’re too lame. Wedding VIPs only.”
“It’s about time,” says April, coming up and giving the ring an apathetic look. “Ben was pulling that ring out and staring at it sadly for weeks. It was pathetic.”
“He was?”
Leslie glances back at Ben, who mouths help me, and grins.
“Congratulations,” says Ron gruffly, coming out of his office with a bottle of whiskey and several shot glasses. He pours drinks for all of them, and points to Ann as they take the shots in hand. “You,” he says. “Toast. Nothing flowery.”
“Oh, okay…well…” Ann smiles, eyes watery before she even speaks, a look Leslie can’t help but return. “To Leslie and Ben. May your life together be filled with happiness and waffles.”
“To Leslie and Ben,” everyone echoes as they drink.
“Now,” says Ron, pouring himself another drink. “Would you prefer a table or a canoe as a wedding present?”
**********
Party Planning - For stillscape: Tom, Andy, and Jean-Ralphio plan the bachelor party/Ann, Donna and April plan the bachelorette party
Guest List
“You and me, top of the list.”
“Already got it, T-Pain.”
“Andy, of course.” At Jean-Ralphio’s questioning look, Tom jerks a thumb over his shoulder at Andy. “And Ben.”
“Ben who?”
“The groom.”
“Oooooh, that guy.”
“Let’s see. Ron, even though he already told me no. Chaz-who always gets me dope deals at Brooks Brothers-my shoe guy, Mikey, Lionel, Brandon and Ace…Do you think Jay-Z would accept this time?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Rewind. We gotta think about the guy-to-stripper ratio here, Tommy.”
“Damn. Scratch all of that. Let’s start over.”
****
“Okay, Leslie wrote us a guest list.”
April snatches the paper from Ann’s hand, eyes growing wide as she reads. “Seriously? There’s like forty people on this list.”
“Well she didn’t want to exclude anyone.”
“Hell no,” says Donna, who is leaning over April’s shoulder to read. She takes the paper and picks up a pen. “I’m sorry, but we’re not inviting her mother to her bachelorette party.”
Venue
“The zoo.”
“No, Andy. Gross.”
“My house.”
“Last resort.”
“Bowling alley.”
“No.”
“Grocery store.”
“What?”
“Wait, what are we talking about?”
****
“What is that?” asks Donna as she finishes editing the guest list. She points at the binder in Ann’s lap with a horrified expression. “Don’t tell me that girl made a binder for her own bachelorette party.”
“God.”
“Come on, you guys know Leslie. She likes to plan.”
“Well I hope she planned for this,” says Donna, picking up the binder and tossing it into the trashcan. “We’re starting from scratch. Now do we want to bar hop, or are we talking one-stop drinking?”
Strippers
“Do we want to go to them, or have them come to us?”
“Both?”
“…Yes.”
****
“Orin will dance if we give him fifty bucks.”
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fine. What’s your great idea?”
Ann shrugs. “We could rent Magic Mike.”
“Ugh.”
“Don’t worry,” says Donna, whipping out her phone. “I’ve got connections.”
Transportation
“Okay, how’s the budget looking?”
“Budget-what now? That’s not a word in my vocabulary.”
Tom glances down at the notebook in Jean-Ralphio’s lap, which mostly consists of drawings of naked women. “Well between the strippers and the private room at The Glitter Factory and drinks at the Snakehole Lounge, I’m thinking we have no money left.”
“So what? No white stretch Hummer limo? Oh-or are you thinking party bus?”
“I’m thinking we better get Ben to kick in some doe for this. After all, it’s his party.”
****
“Limo?”
“Hell yes.”
Interference
“Are you guys done yet?” asks Andy, wandering into the living room and sitting down next to April. “Tom and that Jean-Ralphio guy are arguing about whether to have tigers or lions at the party.”
“Seriously?”
Andy shrugs. “I guess. I stopped listening.”
Ann sets down her notes and storms from the living room to the kitchen, stealing Jean-Ralphio’s notepad right out of his hands. “What are you two idiots planning?”
“A kickass party.”
“Calm down, beautiful. You’re too pretty to be mad.”
“Tom! This is ridiculous.” Ann flips between pages and rolls her eyes. “You didn’t even put Ben on the guest list!”
“We didn’t?”
Ann turns the tablet toward him, revealing their edited guest list: Tom, Jean-Ralphio, Jay-Z.
“You’re planning a party for Ben, remember? Not…Actually, I have no idea who this party is for.”
“I’m planning a bachelor party, Ann,” says Tom, taking the notebook back from her. “It’s Ben’s last hurrah. His last night of freedom.”
“God, you’re disgusting. That’s it.” She steals the notebook again and heads back into the living room. “We’re planning these parties together.”
“Fine!” says Tom, stalking after her. “But we’re still having strippers!”