fic: a ben wyatt christmas, leslie/ben, g
title: A Ben Wyatt Christmas
author:
shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben, ensemble
rating: G
words: ~1400
notes: The first of my advent fics. stillscape prompted Ben Wyatt as a Christmas Charlie Brown during season 3, and I got so excited that I had to calm myself down and hold back from making this too literal a fic. But I loved the idea and it became longer than I intended for these prompts, and I wanted to share it early. I don't know how long it'll be before the rest of my advent fics (I'm working on them!) but thought we could all use some Charlie Brown to kick off December.
So, despite the success of the Harvest Festival and the fact that the Parks Department is fully operational again, the budget cuts are still in effect. They can afford the Winter Jamboree, but only minimally, and without a tree.
“But Ben, the point of the jamboree is to have the big tree lighting!”
He sighs because he never wanted to return to this, never wanted to be the bad guy with the red pen who had to say no to Leslie Knope’s ambition again. He’d been dreading this, but shipping the tree in from out of town had been out of the question, even with the Parks employees trading off volunteer shifts as Santa.
“Leslie,” he says gently, trying to pick his words carefully. “I’m trying.”
She takes a deep breath and he can tell she’s trying too, really trying not to get angry at him. And knowing Leslie and her passion for town gatherings and events, it weirdly means a lot.
“I know, but . . .” Her whine trails out, and she collapses into the chair opposite his desk. “This sucks.”
“I’m sorry, but at least the kids still get Santa, and all the local businesses still get their stands. We just can’t afford to ship in a big tree.”
He reaches his hand over the table, and it’s wildly out of place as he realizes her hand isn't even on the desk to reach toward. He pulls it back quickly, knocking over his (thankfully empty) coffee mug.
Leslie leans down to retrieve it, and sets it on his desk sadly.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry for getting mad.”
It’s startling to see Leslie drop a fight, to see her give up and leave his office, and he wonders why she does it. It only makes him feel worse, because Leslie's supposed to fight, and she's supposed to win, but this is something he can't give her.
***
“Look who it is, the tree killer,” Tom accuses in the hallway when Ben walks past.
“I didn’t kill anything,” he corrects, annoyed. However, as is just his luck, April and Andy are following not far behind.
“Good job ruining Christmas,” April deadpans, staring at him in a way that makes him feel vaguely unsafe. Andy cackles next to her.
“You’re kind of like the Grinch! Your hair even stands up like that!” Ben has to duck when Andy’s big hand swings toward his forehead. "Do you do that on purpose?"
“Stop,” is all he can bring himself to say. He tries to escape by turning the corner, but April’s voice echoes back at him.
“Leslie’s never gonna forgive you, jerk.”
And okay, it’s April saying it, but still.
***
After work, Leslie texts him an invitation to the Jamboree next week, and he stares at it in his hotel room for hours.
He wants to go; of course he does. He helped organize the food stalls and found the extra money for a new Santa suit that didn’t smell. He brought Leslie hot chocolate when she stayed late planning the volunteers’ schedules. He wouldn’t mind buying her another while walking outside in the snow to the hum of carols and the glow of twinkling lights.
But what if, with no tree to look forward to light, she’s still upset? And he can’t bring himself to accept the invitation when he ruined the town’s Christmas. Who would even want him there?
He ignores the text and tries to go to sleep.
***
The day of the Jamboree, Leslie shows up at his office again.
“Hey,” she calls tentatively, hanging in the door frame. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. Are you coming tonight?
He wishes he could say she sounds hopeful, but he doesn’t think he deserves the satisfaction.
“I’m not sure,” he mumbles, and regrets it instantly when her face falls. She still . . . wants him there? “I mean, maybe.”
“Well, you should come. Tree or not, it’s gonna be good, okay?”
And then the idea comes to him.
***
“Is it really okay to chop one out of a forest?” he asks Ron in terror, as they inch under the cover of starlight through Ramsett Park, to the forest preserve beyond.
“Son, you asked where the best evergreens in Pawnee are.” The axe shifts in Ron’s gloved hands. “And I’m bringing you.”
They come toward several trees smelling of pine, and Ron gestures.
“Which one?”
None of them are the best, too grand and big to strap into the hood of a tiny Saturn. But hidden behind the big guys, Ben finds it.
“This one. It’s perfect.”
Ron begins to hack away at the trunk.
***
As soon as he sees the lights shimmering through the windows of his car, he regrets sitting this one out. It could have been another thing he and Leslie built together, another project put together by her enthusiasm and passion and his planning. It could have been theirs, too.
The tree’s his only offer, and he hopes it’s enough.
Ron drags the tree (“Stand back, you’ll break something, and I don’t mean a branch.”) behind him as they seek out Leslie. And his breath catches when he finds her, in a striped knit cap and peacoat, laughing with Ann near the Santa meet and greet.
“Leslie!”
She turns and he wishes, so badly, that he had a camera to capture the smile on her face. He feels warmth spread from his chest to his toes when she hurries over.
“You made it!”
“Not just me, but here--” He trusts his palm out, presenting the tree as Ron stands it up on it’s trunk. And of course, because it’s just his luck, the rest of the gang gathers quickly.
“That’s a tree?” April snarks, her brow furrowed. “It’s the size of an air freshener.” Andy wraps an arm around her shoulders, which is a little hard to do as he’s the current Santa, big padded belly and all.
“It’s like a mini baby tree!” he exclaims in glee, pointing.
“What a sucky little thing,” Tom adds. “You must really hate Christmas, Ben.”
“Tom,” Ann warns meekly, but Donna’s side-eyeing the thing, and okay, maybe it’s a little short, like not even his height and he’s not tall to begin with, but--
“I tried to get you your tree!” he yells at everyone, and he’s sure his cheeks are reddening. He can feel the burn, can’t even look Leslie in the face now. “I don’t hate Christmas, I don’t hate Pawnee, I just wanted you to have your tree. So.”
He stomps off to hide in his car, because apparently he can’t do anything right. He can’t give Leslie what she wants, he can’t give Pawnee the perfect Christmas. What’s he even doing here, anymore?
After a few minutes sulking in the car, he finally turns the key in the ignition to leave. But then there’s a rapping at his window.
“Ben!” Chris exclaims, fogging up the glass. “You have to come see!”
And fine, Ben lets an extremely jubilant Chris lead him back through the jamboree, right to the heart of the action, where now there sits... a tree. His tree? It can’t be.
“Merry Christmas, Ben.”
Leslie smiles as she hits a button on the remote in her hand, and the tree glows suddenly, coated in twinkly rainbow lights, sparkly garland, and more ornaments than should have been able to even fit.
It’s beautiful.
Everyone around starts clapping, commenting on how great the tree looks. Ben can’t do much more than stare in awe, even as Tom declares him “not a total failure” and Ron claps him roughly on the back. Chris seems to be dancing a lot, all over, and pretty soon some typical Christmas song is ringing merrily through the jamboree and everyone’s dancing.
He barely even registers the footsteps coming near him until he feels something in his palm, and realizes it’s Leslie’s hand.
“How’d I do?”
“You did this?” he asks in wonder, admiring the glow of her hair in the lights and the pink tint on her cheeks from the cold. “With my crappy little tree? How?”
She shrugs.
“Just worked some magic. It’s not a terrible tree. It’s your tree.”
“I guess it’s ours now,” he adds before thinking, and she squeezes his hand.
“Yeah. Ours.”
She bounces up on her tiptoes and, to his surprise, presses a light kiss to his cheek. It’s a better Christmas present than he ever could have hoped for. He keeps his hand clasped tightly around hers as she pulls him toward the crowd, hair bouncing when she starts dancing to the music with the others, and even he can't help but join in.
author:
shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben, ensemble
rating: G
words: ~1400
notes: The first of my advent fics. stillscape prompted Ben Wyatt as a Christmas Charlie Brown during season 3, and I got so excited that I had to calm myself down and hold back from making this too literal a fic. But I loved the idea and it became longer than I intended for these prompts, and I wanted to share it early. I don't know how long it'll be before the rest of my advent fics (I'm working on them!) but thought we could all use some Charlie Brown to kick off December.
So, despite the success of the Harvest Festival and the fact that the Parks Department is fully operational again, the budget cuts are still in effect. They can afford the Winter Jamboree, but only minimally, and without a tree.
“But Ben, the point of the jamboree is to have the big tree lighting!”
He sighs because he never wanted to return to this, never wanted to be the bad guy with the red pen who had to say no to Leslie Knope’s ambition again. He’d been dreading this, but shipping the tree in from out of town had been out of the question, even with the Parks employees trading off volunteer shifts as Santa.
“Leslie,” he says gently, trying to pick his words carefully. “I’m trying.”
She takes a deep breath and he can tell she’s trying too, really trying not to get angry at him. And knowing Leslie and her passion for town gatherings and events, it weirdly means a lot.
“I know, but . . .” Her whine trails out, and she collapses into the chair opposite his desk. “This sucks.”
“I’m sorry, but at least the kids still get Santa, and all the local businesses still get their stands. We just can’t afford to ship in a big tree.”
He reaches his hand over the table, and it’s wildly out of place as he realizes her hand isn't even on the desk to reach toward. He pulls it back quickly, knocking over his (thankfully empty) coffee mug.
Leslie leans down to retrieve it, and sets it on his desk sadly.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry for getting mad.”
It’s startling to see Leslie drop a fight, to see her give up and leave his office, and he wonders why she does it. It only makes him feel worse, because Leslie's supposed to fight, and she's supposed to win, but this is something he can't give her.
***
“Look who it is, the tree killer,” Tom accuses in the hallway when Ben walks past.
“I didn’t kill anything,” he corrects, annoyed. However, as is just his luck, April and Andy are following not far behind.
“Good job ruining Christmas,” April deadpans, staring at him in a way that makes him feel vaguely unsafe. Andy cackles next to her.
“You’re kind of like the Grinch! Your hair even stands up like that!” Ben has to duck when Andy’s big hand swings toward his forehead. "Do you do that on purpose?"
“Stop,” is all he can bring himself to say. He tries to escape by turning the corner, but April’s voice echoes back at him.
“Leslie’s never gonna forgive you, jerk.”
And okay, it’s April saying it, but still.
***
After work, Leslie texts him an invitation to the Jamboree next week, and he stares at it in his hotel room for hours.
He wants to go; of course he does. He helped organize the food stalls and found the extra money for a new Santa suit that didn’t smell. He brought Leslie hot chocolate when she stayed late planning the volunteers’ schedules. He wouldn’t mind buying her another while walking outside in the snow to the hum of carols and the glow of twinkling lights.
But what if, with no tree to look forward to light, she’s still upset? And he can’t bring himself to accept the invitation when he ruined the town’s Christmas. Who would even want him there?
He ignores the text and tries to go to sleep.
***
The day of the Jamboree, Leslie shows up at his office again.
“Hey,” she calls tentatively, hanging in the door frame. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. Are you coming tonight?
He wishes he could say she sounds hopeful, but he doesn’t think he deserves the satisfaction.
“I’m not sure,” he mumbles, and regrets it instantly when her face falls. She still . . . wants him there? “I mean, maybe.”
“Well, you should come. Tree or not, it’s gonna be good, okay?”
And then the idea comes to him.
***
“Is it really okay to chop one out of a forest?” he asks Ron in terror, as they inch under the cover of starlight through Ramsett Park, to the forest preserve beyond.
“Son, you asked where the best evergreens in Pawnee are.” The axe shifts in Ron’s gloved hands. “And I’m bringing you.”
They come toward several trees smelling of pine, and Ron gestures.
“Which one?”
None of them are the best, too grand and big to strap into the hood of a tiny Saturn. But hidden behind the big guys, Ben finds it.
“This one. It’s perfect.”
Ron begins to hack away at the trunk.
***
As soon as he sees the lights shimmering through the windows of his car, he regrets sitting this one out. It could have been another thing he and Leslie built together, another project put together by her enthusiasm and passion and his planning. It could have been theirs, too.
The tree’s his only offer, and he hopes it’s enough.
Ron drags the tree (“Stand back, you’ll break something, and I don’t mean a branch.”) behind him as they seek out Leslie. And his breath catches when he finds her, in a striped knit cap and peacoat, laughing with Ann near the Santa meet and greet.
“Leslie!”
She turns and he wishes, so badly, that he had a camera to capture the smile on her face. He feels warmth spread from his chest to his toes when she hurries over.
“You made it!”
“Not just me, but here--” He trusts his palm out, presenting the tree as Ron stands it up on it’s trunk. And of course, because it’s just his luck, the rest of the gang gathers quickly.
“That’s a tree?” April snarks, her brow furrowed. “It’s the size of an air freshener.” Andy wraps an arm around her shoulders, which is a little hard to do as he’s the current Santa, big padded belly and all.
“It’s like a mini baby tree!” he exclaims in glee, pointing.
“What a sucky little thing,” Tom adds. “You must really hate Christmas, Ben.”
“Tom,” Ann warns meekly, but Donna’s side-eyeing the thing, and okay, maybe it’s a little short, like not even his height and he’s not tall to begin with, but--
“I tried to get you your tree!” he yells at everyone, and he’s sure his cheeks are reddening. He can feel the burn, can’t even look Leslie in the face now. “I don’t hate Christmas, I don’t hate Pawnee, I just wanted you to have your tree. So.”
He stomps off to hide in his car, because apparently he can’t do anything right. He can’t give Leslie what she wants, he can’t give Pawnee the perfect Christmas. What’s he even doing here, anymore?
After a few minutes sulking in the car, he finally turns the key in the ignition to leave. But then there’s a rapping at his window.
“Ben!” Chris exclaims, fogging up the glass. “You have to come see!”
And fine, Ben lets an extremely jubilant Chris lead him back through the jamboree, right to the heart of the action, where now there sits... a tree. His tree? It can’t be.
“Merry Christmas, Ben.”
Leslie smiles as she hits a button on the remote in her hand, and the tree glows suddenly, coated in twinkly rainbow lights, sparkly garland, and more ornaments than should have been able to even fit.
It’s beautiful.
Everyone around starts clapping, commenting on how great the tree looks. Ben can’t do much more than stare in awe, even as Tom declares him “not a total failure” and Ron claps him roughly on the back. Chris seems to be dancing a lot, all over, and pretty soon some typical Christmas song is ringing merrily through the jamboree and everyone’s dancing.
He barely even registers the footsteps coming near him until he feels something in his palm, and realizes it’s Leslie’s hand.
“How’d I do?”
“You did this?” he asks in wonder, admiring the glow of her hair in the lights and the pink tint on her cheeks from the cold. “With my crappy little tree? How?”
She shrugs.
“Just worked some magic. It’s not a terrible tree. It’s your tree.”
“I guess it’s ours now,” he adds before thinking, and she squeezes his hand.
“Yeah. Ours.”
She bounces up on her tiptoes and, to his surprise, presses a light kiss to his cheek. It’s a better Christmas present than he ever could have hoped for. He keeps his hand clasped tightly around hers as she pulls him toward the crowd, hair bouncing when she starts dancing to the music with the others, and even he can't help but join in.