Leslie Knope was drunk, so drunk, and why did she just throw that bottle towards the pit? It didn't make it, she failed spectacularly, but she still threw it with the intention of making it into the pit. Mark had mocked her, made fun of her for saying she was the director of the Parks department and shouldn't be doing this.
She was drunk and she was very eager to please Mark Brendanawics.
"It's unbelievable!" Mark laughed, his words slightly slurred. Leslie shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. "You missed the entire pit! Which is huge, by the way."
She hardly remembers getting here, just that she had a terrible night, missed Andy's rock show for a date she was tricked into going on, and then she was here, by this terrible, awful pit next to Mark on a bench. And they're both drunk.
"Okay, this pit," she sighed, falling into the tiny bench. Mark was very close to her, she could feel his arms on hers. She felt so small next to him. "Give it to me straight. Are we ever going to turn it into a park?"
She wanted his real answer. His real, genuine, vulnerable answer. She wanted to know if it was any different than the one he gave Shauna Malwae-Tweep when he took her to bed. Leslie was furious with him then. Now she just hoped he would believe in her.
"Leslie, this is already a park," he laughed. He pointed out all its flaws, the dirt and the trash, made a joke about turning this 'park' into a pit. Leslie giggled with him. She couldn't seem to stop herself, what else was she to do? Lecture him? She was too drunk for that and wished too desperately to just have a good time after all this stress.
He wasn't sure he believed in her. Mark didn't have to say it outright, she just knew it to be true. When she pressed on the park, he could only say that he didn't know. And all Leslie could say is screw it, and maybe just once, deep inside her brain, she kind of wished a guy would tell her she could do anything at all, that this park would be finished because she was Leslie Knope, goddammit, and she could do anything.
"I really admire your tenacity," Mark said suddenly. It was the closest compliment she could get to what she really wanted to hear. Her heart fluttered at his words, suddenly finding herself oddly speechless. She blamed the alcohol. And him, being so close to her, close enough that she could smell the beer on his breath. A shiver ran down her spine, there were goosebumps on her skin.
"I really admire your…" she paused, couldn't breathe. She couldn't stop looking at his face, stared for a moment at his lips, and knew she wasn't going to finish her sentence. Suddenly this scene looked all too familiar, like five years ago, when she lead Mark into her home and they were very drunk even then. He looked at her lips too, and when he draped his arm around her shoulder, she knew she was powerless to stop what was about to happen.
Mark Brendanawics kissed her, a drunken but gentle kiss, and Leslie kissed him back. I shouldn't be doing this.
I need to stop.
I need to tell him no, I need to reject him, I can't keep holding on to Mark like this.
I need to move on.
She did move away, break the kiss, but by the time she did, it was much too late. The damage had been done. Her breathing got a little heavier.
"Oh my god, what did I do?" she gasped. "I need fresh air, get me outside, fast."
"What? We are outside."
"I can't do this. Why did I…"
Mark sighed, watching her closely, his hands still lingering on the front of her jacket. It was too cold outside, she decided. She didn't like it. "Leslie, it's not that big a deal."
Not that big a deal. Yeah, not that big a deal. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe Leslie was just scared, terrified of the idea of really being with him, after surviving on scraps for five years, only memories of one night spent together.
Leslie knew she should say no. She had every intention of holding her ground, of telling him to go home and then forget this ever happened, because she and Mark should have just been friends. There was no place for a relationship between the two of them, not now. Maybe not ever. He wasn't great with commitment anyway. Leslie would just end up feeling insecure whenever a girl like Shauna Malwae-Tweep would come around.
The words were on the tip of her tongue, and he was standing up, and it was perfect timing. No, no no. No, I can't kiss you. No, I can't be with you. No, go home. It can't be that hard to say no.
But then with one drunken misstep, Mark fell, stumbling down the pit, and he didn't have a hardhat to protect him from the rocks. Leslie screamed, and everything was a blur, and suddenly Ann was there and beautiful, sweet, perfect nurse Ann Perkins was helping him up as all Leslie could do was cry and cry because how could she possibly say no now?
She visited him in the hospital the next day, and he seemed different. Almost nicer. As if his trip down to the bottom of the pit changed him. She brought him plenty of waffles from JJ's Diner that she sat and ate with him and before she left, he kissed her cheek. She promised him she would see him again soon. He promised her he would take her out properly. She didn't say no.
Roughly One Year Later
Ben Wyatt needed a drink, desperately. Pawnee, Indiana was a small town, and by god, did it have problems. Chris was perhaps a little too excited to go in, telling Ben that next up was the Parks and Recreation department. Ben took a deep breath, already too worn out from the day. Honestly, sometimes he just really hated being the bad guy, and it looked even worse next to his partner, the literal ball of sunshine Chris Traeger. Everyone loved Chris, it was hard not to. Hell, Ben might complain about him all the time, but he loved Chris too. Their friendship was so far the only constant in his life.
Pawnee's City Hall was small, at least next to many others Ben had seen, but that only made what he had to do harder. It was time to make this place even smaller.
The Parks department was something of a disaster, Ben could tell that much immediately. A dark haired girl, likely no more than twenty-one, was sitting with her feet up on her desk, pushing back her cuticles with a small wooden stick. An older man was sweating profusely, trying so hard not to look at Ben and Chris that he was clumsily knocking almost every paper of his to the floor. Two employees were just chatting away, showing off expensive watches, and he heard a snippet of the woman talking about a Mercedes Benz and the man going on about rap performers. There was next to no work being done whatsoever, and all Ben could do was stand there awkwardly, just a couple of steps behind Chris, clasping his hands together in front of him. Chris was still smiling. It was like he didn't even see the pain lying ahead.
There were only two Parks staff waiting for them. A short, scary looking man with an impressive mustache, and a short woman with impossibly bright blonde hair. They looked to be polar opposites of each other, not too unlike Ben and Chris. The man crossed his arms and kept a blank face, the woman had a smile somehow brighter than her hair. They introduced themselves as Ron Swanson and Leslie Knope.
Ben couldn't help but notice that Leslie Knope was pretty. Too bad she was likely going to get fired.
She complimented his shirt when they sat down for their meeting. He appreciated it, he really did, but it also wasn't the time or place. So he ignored her. Got right to business. He hardly noticed the look on her face or her rising anger. Suddenly it was Leslie with the frown and Ron with the giddy smile, an odd look paired with his mustache.
"You're a jerk," Leslie spouted, and Ben was visibly taken back.
"I'm sorry?" All he'd done was ask about an employee named Jerry, explained Chris's over the top positivity, and Ron seemed to love his metaphor of gutting the department with a machete. Most people, Ben knew, saw him as a jerk. It just came with the job, it was to be expected. But none of these people ever had the guts to call him a jerk to his face.
He didn't think he liked it. And Leslie Knope kept going. She was passionate, that much was obvious, and she didn't take kindly to people trying to tear her down. This job mattered to her, and that made him feel just a tiny bit worse. He hated feeling like this, the guilt that came with budget cuts, but Leslie seemed to somehow burn even brighter when she was angry. And something told him this wasn't even the best she had.
He had to get out of there.
Ben saw her again, later that night. He couldn't explain why in hell he came to that stupid bar, to the Snakehole, to a party for an employee who would just end up hating him too. Chris wanted to go. He jumped up and down in their office and said it was April Ludgate's twenty-first birthday from the Parks department. April Ludgate who got no work done and harassed her co-workers and spent all her time with the shoe-shine boy, why did Ben need to be there, just to get yelled at again by Leslie Knope?
"Ben Wyatt," Chris said, holding him by his shoulders, including his first and last name as was his custom in times like this. "Let loose a little bit! Have fun! Why do you care so much about Leslie Knope anyway?"
Ben shook his head, looking down at the floor, holding his coat closer to his chest. "I don't. I don't care about her. But honestly I'm not in the mood to go to a bar and get yelled at by her again. I already feel like enough of a jerk without being reminded of it."
The way Chris gripped his arms was almost suffocating. "You, Ben, are a wonderful and amazing partner, and my best friend. You are literally the best person I know, and not a jerk. If you just talk to her, you'll be fine!"
Easier said than done. Ben saw her with a friend, a brunette that didn't look like she belonged in government, and both were likely very drunk at that point. He decided just to watch, for a moment, go over some plan in his head, even if that always made him over think and do nothing at all. Should he apologize? No, no, what would he even apologize for, doing his job? He could say he was sorry for upsetting her, maybe. But what good would that do if he kept upsetting her just by doing his job? She would end up hating him, and oh god why did he even care? This was why Ben never had friends, never stayed connected to anybody from any towns he visited. This is why he only needed Chris and his books and his numbers and a television to watch Game of Thrones and forget about how miserable his life was for an hour.
From across the bar, she looked happy. Her smile was broad, and Ben likened it to the sun rising it the morning, while her anger and her yelling was something like a wildfire. It lit something in him. If she could say whatever she wanted, why couldn't he go and just talk to her? Screw it. Ben started to walk towards her.
She saw him from across the way, whispered something to her friend, who gasped. Ben didn't care. He knew it was probably mean. He was going to try and get past that. He stood in front of her and all he felt was awkwardness. "Hi," he started.
Leslie held her hand up, something like that of a drunken princess. "Hello, Ben," she said, as Ben reached to take her outstretched hand, shaking it as best he could. Yeah, she was definitely very drunk.
He let go of her too quickly. Both her and her friend were staring him down. Stop stalling and get talking, Ben, before you start to look like an idiot. "So, uh… I kind of feel like we got off on the wrong foot. So, I just wanted to stop by, and-"
She bristled. "Yeah, well, save your breath, okay? Just, get out of here. Because this is a party with my friends, and you're trying to fire all my friends."
She was absolutely going to yell at him again, but he didn't have the guts to stop it. He started stuttering again, how was it he was the one that looked stupid when he was the completely sober one? "I-"
"Hey, babe," a new voice said, cutting Ben off effectively. He swiveled around and had to crane his neck upwards to face the taller man, one Ben recognized. He met him earlier that day, when him and Chris stopped by the City Planner's office. He believed his name was Mark Brendanawics. He must have been dating Leslie's friend, that's who he called babe.
But Leslie's friend didn't answer. And Leslie's face started to soften.
"Hi, Ann," Mark said, nodding to the brunette. Oh. Oh. Leslie was "babe." "State Auditor isn't bothering you two, is he?"
He expected Leslie to go off again, start yelling about how Ben was bothering her, thank you very much, and he ought to just get out of here because no one wants him here. He thought Leslie's face would scrunch up like it did earlier, when she was angry, that her face would turn red, maybe shake her fists, insist Ben was the worst person she ever knew. None of these things happened. Her face twisted in a way where it was nearly unrecognizable, oddly blank and downcast, her eyes wider and softer. She stared at the rim of her drink and she lied.
"No, babe, he's not bothering me. Nothing's going on. How are you?"
She lied. Leslie couldn't even lie to Ben, who held all the power to fire her, but she still held her ground and called him a jerk, and now she was soft and looked smaller than before and her brightness seemed to dull, like she was switching into low power mode.
Mark sat down next to Leslie, wrapping a large arm around her shrugging shoulders, suddenly looking fragile, when moments before they looked like they could hold up the sky. She leaned in to kiss his cheek, which Mark took as an opportunity to steal a kiss from her lips. A strange feeling shot through Ben's chest at the sight, and Leslie's friend Ann thankfully looked as uncomfortable as Ben felt. This was wrong. This had to be some practical joke, right? And if Ben just stuck around a moment longer Leslie would snap out of it and start laughing and yelling at him and Mark would go away?
"Well, I'm going to give you two some space," Ann announced, and Leslie didn't even look up to acknowledge this. Ann gave Ben a very pointed look. "You should probably do the same."
Ben tilted his head and pointed a finger at the odd pairing, where Mark was now whispering something into Leslie's ear. "Woah, but wait…"
Ann grabbed his arm and forcefully dragged him away from the couple, and Ben couldn't help but think about how much he was pushed around today for someone who's supposed to be a hard-ass and a scary State Auditor. "Don't ask," she hissed into his ear, and the way she stumbled into him reminded him she was drunk. "It's better if you just forget it. Leave her alone."
"Well, what's going on with…" Ben started, but much too late. Ann was already gone, making a beeline towards Chris, actually, who was talking with some of the Parks department by the bar. Ben took a deep breath, rubbing his brow and trying to make sense of this all. It made him uncomfortable, and that feeling in his chest still hadn't gone away.
Ben found himself standing next to Ron Swanson, maybe the one person in the Parks department that liked him after he cut their funding, which was ironic enough on its own. Ben still felt lost. He couldn't stop looking over at Mark and Leslie and wondering if she was okay.
"Um, hi Ron, can I ask you a question?"
Ron shifted. "Normally I would say no, but you, sir, have made me very happy today. Shoot."
"How long have they been together?"
Ben didn't even have to point out the couple in question. Ron knew. "Leslie and Brendanawics? Maybe a year now. Why do you ask, son?"
Ben shrugged, unsure if even he knew. The whole situation just rubbed him the wrong way. "Just confused, I guess. No reason."
Ron took a moment to answer, finishing off the rest of his whiskey glass. "We're all confused. Believe me, I've tried to talk to her, but she's stubborn. A word of advice. Try not to get in Leslie Knope's way."
And then Ron was gone, leaving Ben more confused than ever. He watched Leslie Knope that night probably far more than he should have, her and the City Planner, and the way her smile didn't meet her eyes. In just his short time in Pawnee, Ben had heard stories of Mark Brendanawics, too many stories, and he never could have imagined the sick plot twist that was Mark seriously dating the bright blonde spitfire to call her boss a jerk to his face.
A small part of Ben already missed hearing Leslie yell at him.