Leslie Knope is a spitfire.
Ben Wyatt is not surprised; frankly, he's encountered a lot of mad people, shouting at him at different volumes and octaves, and situations. It's part of his job; not necessarily an obligation, but more of an unwelcome dissatisfaction.
But it's the first time he's seen that angst bottled up in a petite blonde with beautiful, wild eyes and a voice that carries a different kind of strength.
It's across a hardwood table when he first encounters the spikes of Leslie's temper and unwavering devotion. Not when he stands with Chris as he goes through his weird ritual of introducing himself by way of remembering and repeating people's full names, nor when he looks up, about and around the small office.
It's when she calls him, to his face, a jerk.
It's when she defends the department and the people in it that he notices that Leslie Knope is more than an enthusiastic, responsible deputy director.
And while Ben has grown to realise that thick skin will do you good in this business of his and Chris, he feels that something has gone askew, even as he's gathered the spreadsheets and walked away from their impromptu meeting.
He comes across her again, the spitfire, in the bar Chris had roped him to. Apparently, it was literally the best bar in Pawnee, and, unable to say no to his friend's beaming face, he found himself inside the bar, talking to Donna and Ron.
And he sees her.
It's a different Leslie from this morning; this one is visibly inebriated, with her hair in a sloppy ponytail and some flyaway strands framing her face gently. Her red blouse, once impeccable, has the ribbon hung on her right shoulder, and the other loosely tied.
Ben looks at her from across the bar, and while a friend of hers whispers something in her ear, he realises that he wasn't feeling right because of her.
And how he wanted to change that.
So he musters up the courage to walk up to her, tan jacket in one hand, and the other, a little bit clammy. He says hi—a no-brainer word, and she proffers her hand in an awkward angle. All he wants to do is kiss it—a weird thought, but instead he settles for a handshake.
He's just starting to apologise when Leslie cuts him off with a sharp "Save your breath, okay?" and he holds that breath, as Leslie continues to cauterise his thick skin with her words.
It's when she tells him that nobody wants him there that he sees the spitfire again.
And feels sorry for himself.
Her words stung, he reasons, as he walks away from Leslie and her friend, and out into the cold night. She was obviously imbibing alcohol by the gallon.
But try as he might, he can't stop the internal torture in his head.
So he calls a cab and goes home.
The next morning, he organises his investigations and research, and sees Leslie entering the office that he and Chris share. He scratches the back of his head softly, when he sees Leslie smile warmly at his friend.
God, what he wouldn't give to get that smile.
But he refocuses when he hears Leslie say that she's there to talk to him, and forces himself to look as occupied as he was when she entered.
She sits across him, and Ben stops what he's doing to listen to her.
"So I'd like to apologise for yesterday," she starts, and he cuts her off with a blunt, "Don't worry about it." As much as he'd like for them to be friends, he doesn't want to be burned by her fire again.
"No, what I did was out of line. Twice," she reasons, and Ben finds himself silently agreeing to her words, "And I was worked up because obviously, you represent a threat to my department."
"Your city counsel and your mayor are the threats to your department. We didn't do anything to get you into this situation, okay?" he declares, almost spitting the words out, and he sees the nice Leslie recede as the spitfire Leslie comes back.
He feels the tension in the air, after Leslie calls him out for his "callous attitude," which he agrees to but sarcastically questions, and he realises that as much as he's both surprised and intrigued by his every interaction with Leslie Knope, he feels that she needs to loosen up.
It's the obvious tension in her shoulders and the strain on her face that makes him say it—makes him ask her to get a beer with him. And when she questions him with a look and a comment that it's ten-thirty in the morning, all he does is smile convincingly—a look he doesn't use quite often, and he's coaxed her into taking up his offer.
And running away from Chris' humongous choking risk of a multivitamin.
The simple pub at the corner is where Ben takes Leslie, and after settling in, he orders two beers of the IPA he's been hearing about. It doesn't disappoint, and as he takes a swig, he asks Leslie how her head is. After answering with a simple "Mushy," she apologises, and Ben listens to her as she asks—more calmly, this time—if he's ever been a part of a government body.
When he answers yes, he doesn't get offended by the surprised look in Leslie's eyes, but continues with a tilt of his head as he makes her connect the dots.
And when it clicks in, he's not surprised that Leslie knows about him. Or rather, naive, gullible, Benji Wyatt.
The same Benji Wyatt that has driven him to become the man he is today. However incomplete and empty he may feel.
The conversation goes smoothly, and they discuss how it's not all about being a hard-ass, and how both of them have aspirations to run for office someday. It's this Leslie he sees that makes him want to drink beer with her and talk with her all day, just to find out more sides to her.
And he hates it that with a swift look at his Omega, he knows they've run out of time.
They fight over the bill, shortly, but when Leslie ceremoniously dumps the payment and yells the stanza from his swearing-in ceremony, he finds himself smirking at her antics.
It's when Leslie reorganises her purse and doesn't see him looking that he realises spitfire Leslie isn't so bad after all.