A/N: I can't stop writing these. I literally can't. Oh well, enjoy! Even if you don't, read and review. I would love it.

Missing moments from S3E7


April hadn't ever been great at expressing herself to other people, and today was one of the hardest days for her to get over. Dating Andy had seemed like a cool idea from the start – he was fun and she didn't hate hanging around with him otherwise – but planning ahead to a time where she would say that she loved him wasn't exactly a priority. Stuff like this didn't make any sense to her anyways; who the hell cared about people, let alone one person in particular? But she did, and it was weird. Things he said, his generally stupid ideas, and definitely making out were all pretty sweet. But April hated people; she hated the stupid ways they'd never stop talking. Except Andy, he talked loads but always made her laugh and somehow made her smile just by saying whatever words came to his mind. And she hated all the annoying little personal details they wanted to learn from her - except Andy, because they had a game where they would make fun of all the dumb things they had done in their lives. Andy won with the pit last time but there was a high school dance April never wanted to talk about ever again, except she wanted to share it with him.

It was like they clicked or whatever cliché was supposed to be applicable. They had fun, liked each other, and April didn't want to leave after five minutes of dumb chit-chat. Mostly because there wasn't any and they were usually busy egging a house or pantsing Jerry. Things were looking up, at least when she had the brilliant idea of telling him all of this.

"Hey, I love you," April said quickly. She had tried to act nonchalant all day, wrestling with the thought that she loved someone and she wouldn't follow that up with a quick 'syke.' Then Andy had said what could probably be considered the worst response possible.

She hated him. He was just like the rest, except worse. There had been a brief moment where she actually wanted to share something with him that was about both of them and not just a big joke. That's why it horrified her to no end when April found herself questioning feelings about a big dumb oaf like Andy without even a hint of internal sarcasm. And it hurt, most of all. Harvest Festival was supposed to be a big day for the whole town, what with Li'l Sebastian and a Ferris wheel in Pawnee, and April had this grand idea that maybe, just maybe, it'd be a big day for them too.

"Dude, there's a churro stand over there and some guy selling burritos too," Andy interrupted her thoughts through a mouthful of bread. "Hey what's wrong?"

"Nothing, everything's awesome," she replied sarcastically, donning a winning smile and wishing a bus would fall from the sky directly on Andy, "I'm just gonna go… over there, where you're not."

Leaving him to his food, she tried to work this through in her head. There was something there, feelings or whatever other gross thing possible, and April didn't know how to deal with having this rejection. Andy had done everything to show that he felt the same way, hell she's pretty sure when they did it the first time he said it 'accidentally,' and now here she had to think about this. At least she was going to until Tom broke the news to her that Jerry had let the entire town's favorite mini horse out, and there was no sign of him anywhere.


"Leslie, you gotta help me," Andy pleaded, catching the woman before she would fly to the other end of the festival grounds and leave him without any support, "April's mad and I don't know why."

"Andy, I'm busy. I'm sorry," she responded, and Andy knew she was actually sorry. Any other day they would sit down, get funnel cake and waffles afterwards, and talk it through and come up with a solution.

"Yeah, I know… I just really don't know what to do," he muttered. "I've never wanted to make someone not mad at me before."

"Last week you nailed Kyle's shoes to a wall with April," Ben said flatly as Andy tried to keep up with their brisk pace.

"And you guys almost got Jerry fired for porn – with his face on it," Leslie said, noticeably irritated before recomposing herself. "By the way, good job on that one, totally a classic."

Ben broke off from the two of them mumbling something about responsibility and classics, leaving Andy to try and match an unhindered Knope on her way to get something done. He'd never felt his heart go this fast in his entire life.

"Yeah, but Kyle and Jerry suck," he managed to get out between heavy breaths, "and April's the coolest."

"Almost there Andy, just give it a bit and you'll figure it out," Leslie smiled and stopped to talk directly to Andy, " I really have to make sure Joan and the rest of her sideshow keep their hands off this situation."

He didn't really know what she meant by him almost being there, and nothing she said had really helped. Except for the part where Leslie said their prank was a classic. That was so long ago he thought most people would have forgotten about it altogether except for April and him. This made Andy even more confused about the situation, especially because he thought they were going to go win April one of those stupidly big teddy bears and now they weren't even near each other and he felt like she was super mad at him for something dumb. How was he supposed to know that saying 'awesomesauce' would make her so angry? The last time he called something she said awesomesauce they high-fived and made out in a parking lot. What was the big deal this time? He loved her, but why did she need to hear that? It was already pretty damn obvious, at least to him.

Struggling with the thoughts boiling his brain, Andy was glad to go searching for the missing horse. At least until April started being mean to him, ignoring him, and looked like she didn't even want to tell him what he did wrong. Why wouldn't anyone tell him?


"Stop talking," April growled to a quiet Andy.

"I'm… not." Andy answered, confused, "Oh, do you want to talk because this is super boring, and I was thinking that maybe we could figure out a way to get Li'l Sebastian and there's this trap I thought of-"

Everything made her head hurt, especially when he wouldn't stop his run-on sentences from going to a place where April wanted to forgive him. But no, that wasn't going to happen. No amount of traps – regardless of possible human bloodshed, spikes, and/or flanges – could stop her from feeling like shit about the whole situation, and Andy was supposed to pay for making her feel that way. He was going to pay for making April feel anything at all, especially something so strongly for him.

"I'm gonna go look over here," April interrupted. "You can go somewhere else if you want. Just don't follow me."

If she hadn't been so mad at the moment, Andy's sudden fallen face would have made the growing knot in her stomach tighten to a strangulating grasp. On top of that, there was a bubbling anger at someone that wasn't refusing to reciprocate her feelings. April was furious at herself now, and she definitely didn't understand that. It was almost like some part of her hated being mad at Andy.

Not knowing how to deal with that, she had a brilliant idea when passing the medical tent. If anyone knew how to handle this situation it certainly wasn't Ann. Everything she said was useless and pretty much up for debate as to how closely it was related to the English language anyways. April just needed a pick-me-up and messing with Ann was probably number two or three on her shortlist. She waited at the entrance flap, hanging on a pole for a few seconds before working up the nerve to pop her head inside.

"Ann, can I… talk to you?" April said pretending to sound serious, fumbling for something to use against her, "It's about your Chlamydia test, we've found signs of Her-"

"Okay, okay, okay let's not do this here, then," the effervescent nurse responded while trying to drown out April.

Rushing outside, Ann pushed her from the entrance of the tent with an alarming strength that might have sent April falling if she hadn't been leaning on one of the support poles anyways. She had to keep a reference on that; Ann had crazy nurse muscles.

"Listen, you can't just say stuff like that okay?" Ann said quickly, "I get it, you're still mad but there's literally nothing to be mad at anymore and-"

"Okay, we're never going to be friends," April intoned slowly, interrupting the hasty nurse.

"All right… I think that'd be best for everyone's sanity," Ann replied, to which April nodded vigorously, "but what are you doing here?"

This was stupid, and she knew it. It was like every idiot girl she knew in high school that made April want to ask Ron politely for a gun just to 'visit some old friends' as she put it. Here she was, going back on her original intent of screwing up Ann's day to ask for help.

"God, what am I doing…?" April groaned, hoping for that mythical bus to appear and run her over, "Fine, I told Andy I love him and he said that was awesomesauce. I'm mad at him and he's-"

"Got no idea, right?" Ann finished the sentence curtly, nodding and folding her arms. "Yeah, I did the same thing a few years ago and I think it took him a week and no spaghetti to realize what I was mad about."

April sighed in response; this wasn't what she needed to hear. She wanted Ann to commiserate and call Andy an idiot, maybe say something stupid that April could pounce on and humiliate her for weeks about.

"Ugh, whatever this was dumb and a terrible idea," April said, walking away. "Thanks for nothing, Ann!"

She was just happy that Ann didn't walk after her, even if she had some choice words to yell behind her back, because by now she was worried there might actually be emotion on her face from this whole situation. April loved that large, dim-witted guy but she wanted to hate him so much just like she did everyone else. This was going to be harder than she thought possible.


Andy passed three different stalls selling bratwurst, two of which had spinning meat cones that would have made Ron weep on the spot, and not one of them even interested him. This was worse than anything he had ever gone through with Ann and processing that made him realize something. He really did love April; tiny, crazy, genius April who the city of Pawnee should have probably recognized as the least trustworthy to handle a firearm right next to Andy. They fit together as two pieces of an insane, edgework puzzle that had been lit on fire several times, somehow making it out of each fire with a shiny new bit that unraveled a greater picture of their lives.

Then the power went out, the Ferris wheel stopped, and Ron basically saved his skin. Just like that puzzle they were meant to come back from this stronger.


Hours later, Andy and April had helped the others finish the maze and find that damnably lovable horse. It had been a pretty quiet four hours, with neither of them talking but holding hands and, when she complained about all this walking, all Andy did was crouch and motion to her. Piggyback rides were awesome, and he knew that on top of listening to her complaints and trying to help she loved getting them. When he was tired of running around with her on his back, mostly from running since she weighed almost nothing, they went back to their leisurely stroll looking for their goal. Whatever it was supposed to be that night, April was pretty sure she had already scored hard.

Even after that, they were pretty quiet. They hadn't really done that before, mostly sticking to pranks and kissing until their lips and basically everything else hurt, and it felt good. April liked this different, and she was sure that the only reason it was anything remotely enjoyable was because Andy was with her.

"I like this," April mumbled, swinging Andy's hand as they looked between stalks and at crossroads, "it's different."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," he answered with a smile on his face so wide that no mythical bus or mysterious house fire could stop. "You're cool, the coolest. I love you."

"You can stop saying it, jeez," April groaned, and against every instinct in her body had actually blushed in response, "I love you, too."

Then the silence fell, but neither of their smiles did. This night, this different, was something special for them – in their own, crazy way that could only come from Andy and April. Talking about serious, adult subjects always made her want to vomit spontaneously but April liked it with him. Andy couldn't complain much either, especially with the woman he walked around a fairground and thought about for more than ten minutes.

"You know, I doubt anyone's gonna walk past here for a bit," with a gleam in her eyes that made Andy grin in response, April motioned to the stalks around them.

"That would be awesome," he said casually. "I love hide and seek."

Standing there, hand held mid-motion, she didn't know whether to laugh or make fun of him. She wanted to screw him in a cornfield, and his response was to play hide and seek. April couldn't help herself when she fell over laughing so hard that her gut might actually rebel and explode from the sudden use.

"Was it something I said?" Andy asked innocently.


"Andy," April begged at around five o'clock in the morning, "wake up, we have to talk."

He shrugged her off at first, mumbling something and rolling around on the mattress still sitting on the floor of Burly's spare room. It only took a few smacks for him to get the idea and struggle out of his dream.

"What's up, babe?" Andy mumbled in a sleep-riddled slur.

"I wanna talk about today," she said pulling her knees to her chest and biting on her bottom lip in concentration. "It's important."

"All right," sitting up and groggily rubbing at his eyes, Andy attempted to stay at full attention for her. "What's up?"

"I'm… well, I'm… uh," sighing, she continued, "I'm sorry for blowing up over nothing today."

"What?" Andy asked, incredulous, "April that was totally worth blowing up about. I was being a jerk."

"No, I should have known what you meant," she said, reaching out a hand to grab his arm and pull them together. "I know you love me, it's just weird for me to say stuff like this to people."

Andy pulled her deeper in, barely holding back from crushing her small body into his. He didn't understand exactly why, but her telling him that – something he had partially figured out anyways – felt almost as special as the rest of the night. After a few seconds of silence, he could feel her legs wrap around his and that telltale giggle. But first, he wanted to tell her something.

"I wanna let you know… I have no idea how I will, but I wanna let you know," Andy interrupted, "that I love you and you mean literally everything to me."

If anything her attempts were getting harder to turn down, but he still wanted to say something. There had to be something. Suddenly, it came to him. He knew what he had to do. Reaching around a small pile of candy around the makeshift bed, he felt a small plastic hook and pushed April away from him gently.

"Wow, rude," April joked, ready to move back in for the kill.

"No, babe, stop," Andy insisted. His tone made her move to turn on a lamp sitting on the floor sideways, revealing the misshapen ring in his hand. A half-eaten cherry ring pop was in his hands.

"Uhh… I don't think that's safe," she said warily.

"I have to ask you something," Andy replied, a large amount of heat suddenly coming up to his cheeks, "and I don't want you to laugh or anything. Just answer me… April Ludgate, will you marry me?"

Staring at a partially eaten candy ring, April had no idea how to react to the information at hand. Instead of thinking about it, she let her natural apathy take over and attempt to take it in stride. She let a few seconds pass, expecting a full minute to go by but before even ten seconds had gone she was pushing herself on top of Andy and biting at his lip.

"Fine," she finally answered after a minute or two.

"Awesome," Andy said, pulling her back in for a kiss.

April decided that maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe everything today had been a terrible idea, even telling Andy her feelings. But then she looked at the beautiful yellow plastic on her hand and couldn't stifle a laugh. The ring was a fake and they lived in squalor, but they were they. And, to April, that felt better than anything else in her life had up to that point.

Well, almost everything.