Disclaimer: This is a story about characters who don't belong to me. Written after Episode 3x11.

Ann was getting ready to head out on yet another first date when the pounding at the door came this time. She knew it wasn't her date, because (a) they were meeting at the restaurant, and (b) she recognized a Knope Knock when she heard it.

Instead of rushing in, Leslie remained on the threshold when Ann opened the door.

"You can come in."

"No no, you have a date. I just need a quick confirmation of something."

"Go for it."

"Okay, so if someone is a jerk to you, and you react by being a jerk back, but it turns out that he wasn't actually being a jerk in the first place he's just ridiculously bad at keeping a secret without coming across as a jerk, should I still feel terrible about being a jerk or do the two cancel each other out?"

"Right. Well, first you come inside because I don't feel like standing on the porch in my robe while we discuss this." She gestured Leslie into the house, and they settled on the couch. Ann composed her thoughts. "Okay, Ben was keeping a secret and in order to keep you from discovering it…" she looked to Leslie for confirmation of this and continued at her nod "he acts like a jerk, which hurts your feelings. And in return, you say something dumb that makes you seem like a jerk."

"Yes."

"And then you discover that he was actually trying to do something nice?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"What is what?"

"The nice thing he was trying to do?"

"Oh, well, I don't actually know. I caught him on the phone with Kathy Houseman—"

"Who's that?"

"The woman who painted the wildflower mural in City Hall."

"Ah. Clever Ben."

"Yes, but all I know is that he commissioned something from her. Which could be a good sign?"

"I'd say so."

"And Kathy referred to him as my 'young man,' so clearly he gave her the impression that we were together."

"Also good."

"But I just…I don't know. He hasn't really confirmed or denied anything and I just can't tell if he's winding me up or getting ready to say goodbye." She took a deep breath. "He asked me out on a date."

"Very good!"

"Is it? It was one of the rules, not that we ever actually made any rules, but one of the rules was that we could only eat together in the building."

"But what about that covered bridge thing?"

Leslie shook her head. "That was work-related research."

"And you didn't eat the entire time? That town was like two hours away!"

"We ate in the car or while walking around at the festival."

"Wow. Covered your bases."

"We did! Don't you see, Ann? I just…I can't shake the feeling that this is the end of something, somehow."

Ann stretched an arm out to her friend. "Come here." Leslie leaned in and rested her head on Ann's shoulders.

"I hate this situation."

"I know you do."

"Why does he have to be him? Why does he have to have that job and that…face, and be so freaking perfect?"

Ann couldn't think of a good answer to that, so she just tightened her hug. She liked Ben. She was hoping to see things work out for Leslie and him. "Do you want to hang out here?"

"What? No Ann, you have a date!" She sat up in alarm. "You have to get ready, you're not even dressed!"

Ann had a blue dress picked out to wear, but she saw an opportunity for distracting her friend, so she took it. "Shoot, you're right. I'll just throw something on."

"Ann. This is a first date, you can't just throw something on. Let me help you pick something out."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not! Now go put on some make-up and I'll see what we have to work with."

Time dragged out, in the way it does. Leslie kept herself busy scaring up sponsors and volunteers for Chris's half-marathon and the citywide training that would lead up to it. Oddly enough, she didn't experience any of her usual first-date tremors, primarily because she couldn't decide if it was a first or a last date.

She did panic about her clothes. Ann came by to talk her down, and managed to find a bright, kelly green dress in the back of her closet. Leslie winced when she saw it.

"Leslie, this dress is gorgeous! Why don't you wear it?"

"I bought it after I got the Parks Department job. My mom took me out to dinner to celebrate, and I wanted something happy and parks-y. She made some comment about how I shouldn't dress as a parks lady, I should dress as a politician."

"Well, that's dumb. Try it on." Leslie moved to protest, but Ann cut her off. "No, I mean it. Try it on."

"Fine." Leslie took the dress and ducked into her bathroom. "But it's been awhile since I bought it—it probably looks awful!"

It did not look awful. The cut was perfect, the color was perfect, and Ann was actually speechless.

Leslie, misconstruing her friend's silence, rubbed her hands nervously on her thighs. "This feels weird. Do you think I should just wear a suit? I think I'll just wear a suit."

Ann scrambled from her position on the bed to stop Leslie before she slipped back into the bathroom. "You are absolutely not going to wear a suit. Ben knows what you look like in a suit. He's seen you in a million suits. What he hasn't seen is this." On the last word, Ann turned Leslie to face the biggest mirror in the room, which she had been purposefully avoiding.

Leslie stopped her struggling and froze. "Whoa. I look hot."

Ann grinned at her reflection. "Yeah, you do."

Because the restaurant wasn't terribly fancy, she added a black cardigan and heels, but otherwise kept it simple. Ann had forced a pair of barrettes on her and encouraged her to pull her hair away from her face.

"But why?" Leslie had asked.

"Because you never wear it that way at work. We want him to take one look at you and forget that the City of Pawnee even has a governing body."

Anarchy wasn't something that Leslie usually liked to encourage, but in this case she decided to make an exception. The look on Ben's face when she walked in the door told her she'd made the right decision on that account. "I am going to buy that woman a cake," she murmured to herself as she followed the hostess across the room to a gaping Ben. "A cake with tiers."

"Leslie." Ben was still seated as the hostess gestured her to the table, and seeing her up close made him jump up, nearly upsetting the entire table in the process. They both shot their hands out to steady it, saving him from mortification in front of everyone in the cozy restaurant. The hostess, seeing that no glassware was about to shatter, laid menus on the table and abandoned them to wallow in awkwardness.

After a beat, Leslie sat. Ben quickly followed. "I'm sorry, I know I'm making a fool of myself, but…" he trailed off and just looked at her, then gestured weakly with one hand. "You look incredible."

And for some reason, that's what did it. Ben's weak little hand gesture. All nervousness fled. Leslie grinned. "I know."

Ben laughed, and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away.

"I like your shirt."

He smiled at her reference to their first meeting. "Thank you." He opened his menu. "So, what's good here?"

"Oh, lots of things." Leslie glanced around the room. "Although to be honest, I've only ever been here for lunch. They really do dim the lights in the evening, don't they?" Although there were maybe a dozen other people in the restaurant with them, they were seated towards the back and away from the bar, which gave their table a very intimate feel. "Why'd you pick this place, anyway?"

"Oh, Ron recommended it."

"Ron did? Seriously? I tried to get him to agree to having a staff lunch here once and he laughed in my face! He said, 'Leslie, there are an equal number of salads and steaks on that menu. That is a travesty.' Are you saying he told you he'd eaten here?"

"Well, no. But I asked him to recommend a place you would like."

Leslie sat back, disbelief fading as something sweeter swirled in her chest. "Oh. That makes more sense." Before she could ask him one of the next things that sprang to mind, namely Why did you ask him? or When was this? or Why didn't her say anything to me? or Why did you ask me here, Ben Wyatt? Ben was talking again.

"No calzones on the menu, though." He peeked at her over his menu. "No waffles, either."

She decided to let him steer the conversation, for now. She spread her napkin over her lap with a snap. "Well, I doubt Ron told you it was perfect."

After that first hiccup, Leslie forgot there was even a question about the status of this outing. It didn't feel like a first date, and it certainly didn't feel like a last date. It felt like something right in the middle. For the most part, aside from a few charged moments when Leslie glanced up to find Ben watching her with a sort of hungry look in his eyes, it didn't even feel like a date. It felt like every other meal she'd eaten with him as friends, only a little bit freer and quite a bit happier.

After they finished eating (and Leslie revealed that one of the reasons she liked the place was because when she asked them not to skimp on the whipped cream, they really didn't skimp on the whipped cream), Ben insisted on covering the bill. Suddenly she was back to not knowing whether this was a hello or goodbye, and not even her pretty dress could take her mind off of it. They exited the restaurant and Leslie immediately began scanning the street for where she parked her car, but Ben threw a wrench into that plan, too.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me?"

"Here?" Leslie looked around again. They were in a little downtown area of Pawnee, which was pretty enough during the day with its little shops all open, but for the most part the street was dark. Not what most would consider sights worth seeing. "Sure, I guess."

They strolled in relative silence for about a block and a half, before Ben came to a stop and cleared his throat. Leslie couldn't take it any longer. Before he could even begin to speak, she jumped in.

"Ben, are you dumping me?"

"Wha—huh?"

"Just tell me straight. I can take it. All of this build-up: the non-dates, the secrets, you not sleeping, and now this mysterious blatant breaking of Chris's golden rule? I can't decide if it's the beginning or the end but I feel like it must be the end because you're damn good at your job, and I'm damn good at my job, and I don't want either of us to lose our jobs—"

At this point, Ben had said Leslie's name five or six times in attempts to interject. When those didn't work, he switched tactics. He grabbed hold of her arms and turned her to face him, and the look she sent him as the verbal onslaught skittered to a halt was full of such hurt and confusion that he couldn't take it. "Gah," he said, and yanked her towards him.

The momentum of his pull brought her into his chest before she really had a chance to register what was happening. She had no such excuse for what happened next. She knew the kiss was coming, and she was 100% okay with it. Everything else might be up in the air, and this was likely nothing but a ploy to shut her up, but she had been waiting months to kiss this man, and damn if she wasn't going to enjoy it.

Despite the violence of his first action, his lips when they lowered to hers were gentle. There was a hum of something between them, and she knew she hadn't imagined it because she could feel his smile. And then she slid her hands up between them to wrap her arms around his shoulders, parted her lips under his and let him take them both under.

She wasn't sure how long that first kiss went on, but at some point it became a second, and then a third, and then she lost count. On some level she was cognizant of the fact that they were standing on a dark sidewalk in downtown Pawnee and there was a reason they were there and she needed to figure that out, but whenever she came close to surfacing, he dragged her under again. Desperate, she bit his lip.

He lifted his lips from her a fraction, enough to mutter "Ow." She seized on the tiny distance and tugged back another inch.

"Ben, we need to stop."

"I know."

"I have questions I need you to answer."

"I know."

"I can't think when we're kissing."

"Me neither."

Something about hearing that admission from him made her forget the pressing questions, and this time it was Leslie who pulled Ben to her, who ran the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip until he shivered. It was empowering, and it was perfect, and all discussions were shelved for a few more drugging minutes.

The next time they surfaced, it was Ben who put distance between them. He glanced at her swollen lips and groaned. "Don't get me wrong, I would like to keep doing this. A lot. There were a lot of times I didn't kiss you when I wanted to, and I would like to make up for all of them."

Leslie grinned. "Yeah. But that was my question. The most important one. Why are real dates in restaurants and making up for missed kisses on the table now? Why today?"

"Ah. Well, that's why I stopped, actually." He gestured at the dark building that just moments before they'd been pressed hungrily against. "This is why."

"This…empty office building."

"Yes. Well, it's not empty. Not quite."

Leslie took a closer look at it. It certainly didn't appear as if there was a tenant. She was familiar enough with her city to know that the last occupants, a smallish law firm, had moved into larger offices a few months beforehand, and there hadn't been any activity in it since. But wait…she focused her sight on the door, trying to make it out in the dim light of the nearest street lamp. She wasn't positive, but it looked like there were new locks on the door. "Who's rented it?"

"That would be me, actually."

"What?" she spun to face him. "Why? What's wrong with your office in City Hall?"

"Nothing. But they don't usually let you have an office in City Hall if you don't work for the city."

She froze, and there was a trembly feeling in her gut that she couldn't decide if it meant excitement or dread. "What?"

He smiled at her. "Leslie, I quit."

The trembling continued. "But…why?"

He shot her a look that said the answer should be obvious, but her brain didn't want to commit to having that sort of influence on his life, even as the rest of her thrilled to it. Ben closed the distance between them and rubbed his hand up and down her upper arm in an attempt to still her shaking.

"Maybe you should start from the beginning."

He nodded. "Chris's whole policy on dating. I mean, he'd mentioned it before, but never in reference to me. He likes to think he's a matchmaker, so he would try to set me up on a few dates in every few towns, but nothing ever took. Until you, there was never any reason to broach the subject with him. But it's something he's serious about. I mean, really serious. So I decided to brainstorm alternatives." He shot a smile at her. "I'm not as good at ideas as you are, but I have my moments."

Leslie felt like she needed to protest this entire discussion, all of the sacrifices he was apparently willing to make so that they could kiss on a darkened street. All she could come up with was a quiet "Ben."

"Look at me and tell me you didn't do the same thing. Brainstorm, I mean."

"Of course I did."

"But this is your city, your place. You've put years into the people and politics here, your path up the ladder I know you want to climb is here. My path is less linear. My options are different. You can't just quit."

"I thought about it."

"Really?" he asked, the word unexpectedly loud on the empty street. And then, with less volume, "Really?"

She nodded.

"Leslie." After a moment, he cleared his throat and turned his focus back to the empty building. "I majored in finance, you know. Most of my classmates went on to be accountants. So I decided to take the CPA Certification exam. See how that felt."

A light dawned in her head. "The late nights."

Ben laughed ruefully. "As it turns out, I am not as good at cramming as I was fifteen years ago." He sobered again. "And I'm really, really sorry about the way I acted towards you. My intentions are no excuse. I was an ass."

Leslie smiled slightly. "You were kind of a jerk. But I discussed it with Ann, and we decided that since I was a jerk back at you, it evened out."

"Well, that's something."

"Hey, speaking of my being a jerk, where does the painting come into this?"

"Oh, okay. So, fast-forward a few weeks of being a sleep-deprived jerk. I took the exam."

"How'd you do?"

He smiled his familiar, sort-of bashful smile, the one where he never seemed to be able to hold her gaze. "I aced it."

She couldn't help it and her excitement on hearing that anyone had aced a test of any kind took over. "Ben, that's awesome!" She raised her hand for a high five, and he obliged with a grin. "So what's the moral of all this?"

"The moral, I guess, is that now I'm an accountant in the fine city of Pawnee, Indiana. I don't have a shingle with my name on it yet, but I do have this lovely office space."

Leslie referred to her memory of the street in the daylight. It was a lovely space, in a sturdy old building built around the same time as City Hall. "It's not far, either."

Ben was digging in his pocket for something, but he shot her a grin. "No, it's not. I walked it a few times to make sure. Aha!" He pulled out a single key and fit it into the newest lock on the door. "Oh, before I do this, I have a confession to make."

"Another one?"

"Yes. I lied to your friend."

"Which friend? When?"

He unlocked the door and switched on the light, which was blindingly bright after their time spent in the dark outside. Leslie waited until her eyes adjusted, and then she saw it. "Ohhhhh."

It hung on the wall opposite the front door, and was currently the only thing in the empty space. It wasn't an exact copy. The colors were a little different, a little less sunny and more earthy, and the brush strokes were bolder, the paint on the canvas thicker. All the same, the wildflower-covered canvas was immediately reminiscent of Kathy's earlier mural, the one that covered part of the wall on the second floor of City Hall.

Leslie approached the painting for a closer look. Ben spoke up from behind her. "It did start out as a gift for you. A…just because sort of gift. There wasn't really a rhyme or reason to it. But it took me a while, even after I mentioned it was for you, to convince her to take the commission. She really doesn't like returning to earlier works."

Leslie glanced over her shoulder at him. "I know. I tried to convince her to paint me something similar years ago. You must have been pretty convincing."

He colored a little at that. "Yeah. Anyway. By the time she agreed, I'd already decided on this course and realized that I wanted a little piece of the place for myself. So I lied to her, a little bit."

She turned away from the painting to face him. "I don't think it was a lie at all. It seems to me that this painting belongs to me in the best kind of way."

He let out a long breath and smiled widely at her. "I was really hoping that's how you would feel about it."

Leslie walked over to him buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held. She could feel the warmth of his breath at her temple. "Ben, are you sure about this? I mean, absolutely sure? You really love government, and I don't want to be the one who takes that away from you."

He raised his head and pulled back a little, just enough so he could see her face. "First of all: yes. Yes, I'm sure. I'll still be doing budgets and finance, just on a smaller scale. And honestly, I doubt this is the end of my career in government. Like I said, my options are different than yours. I'll worm my way back in eventually. And in the meantime, I'll always be available as a citizen volunteer."

"Like Ann."

"Right. Only I have ulterior motives."

She giggled. "They're not really ulterior if you tell me about them."

"Ah, well. So, what do you think? Want to make out on my desk?"

"You don't have a desk yet."

"Damn, you're right. I'd invite you back to my place, but at the moment my place is also April and Andy's place. Which could be a little awkward."

"We can go to mine. It's a bit messy, but we'll be the only ones there."

"Sounds perfect." With her hand securely in his, Ben strode for the door, but paused just shy of switching off the light when she tugged on his hand. He turned to find her looking at the painting again.

"It's sort of like…have you ever been given flowers that someone uprooted from their yard? My mom gave me a bunch when I moved into my house. I planted them and expected them all to bloom in exactly the same way they had in her yard. Some of them did. Most of them did. But a few of them changed. Nothing extreme, but I liked it. It was like they reacted to having their roots in my soil and decided to bloom in a way that was all mine and nobody else's. That's how I think your painting looks."

He was gazing at her with that soft look in his eyes, the one she'd caught him with many times over the previous months. "Thank you for that."

She squeezed his hand, and they headed out the door.

A/N: Most of this story was written before 3x11 aired, but I watched it about halfway through writing this chapter, so some spoilers came in there. I realized that I'm most comfortable writing Ben/Leslie stories from Ben's perspective, so this was sort of a challenge to myself to see if I could write from Leslie's POV, too. I think it came out okay!

If you're interested in the clothes here, Leslie's dress is the Cotton Taffeta Ramona Dress from . I do actually scour many websites for these things, but seems to be serving our Leslie well of late. The dress comes in a green color, but the color I put her in here is a bit brighter, more saturated. In my head she was also wearing delicate gold jewelry, just, you know, for the record.