The breadsticks were awful, but Ann couldn't stop eating them.

She should have had a snack after work. Leslie had texted her twenty-seven times that afternoon with increasingly bizarre questions about her date, until Ann finally decided that the only solution was real-life practice. And now she was sitting at O'Neill's Bar and Grill, waiting for Leslie and eating terrible, terrible breadsticks.

Her phone dinged, and a message from Leslie popped up on the screen. Almost there! Had to try on a bunch of outfits! See you in two minutes!

Ann sighed. Judging by the number of exclamation points, Leslie was already freaking out. How could someone so put-together in her professional life be so worked up about a date? It didn't make sense that Leslie was so unlucky in relationships. She was smart, and beautiful and spent all her time trying to help people. Okay, so maybe she was a little weird sometimes...but any guy with half a brain should be able to see that she was a total catch.

But then she remembered Andy, and it occurred to her that even half a brain might be too much to ask.

She grabbed another breadstick - definitely the last one this time - and nibbled on the end of it. Just then, the door opened and Leslie walked in wearing a familiar black dress. Ann smiled when she recognized it. She'd lent it to Leslie weeks ago for a night out, and it looked so cute on her that she'd conveniently forgotten to ask for it back.

Leslie hurried over to the table and stopped in her tracks.

"Oh, my god!" she exclaimed, looking Ann up and down. "Why have I never seen you in a blazer before? And the tie! It's like Avril Lavigne and Hilary Clinton had a gorgeous multicultural baby!"

"Leslie, stop it," she sighed. "I came here after work to help you practise for your date. You're supposed to be pretending I'm Dave."

"Who says I'm not? What's wrong with telling your date he looks good?"

"You'd tell Dave he looks like Avril Lavigne and Hilary Clinton's baby?"

Leslie grinned and winked at her. "Well, I guess not. Dave's cute, but he's no Ann Perkins."

And before Ann could figure out what to say to that, Leslie went in for a hug. A very tight hug. Her hair brushed Ann's face and she felt warm and soft, and she was wearing some kind of perfume that was starting to make Ann feel dizzy.

Ann carefully detached herself from Leslie's grip. It was crazy, but she was actually feeling a little nervous. It had been ages since she'd had an actual sit-down dinner in a grown-up restaurant. The last time she'd tried to take Andy somewhere nice, he'd asked the sommelier for the kid's menu.

Just then, a server came over to take their order. She was a nice lady named Barb, who told them all about her daughter who was pregnant with triplets. She told them that the pork tenderloin was absolutely the best thing on the menu, so they both ordered it along with a glass of red wine each.

Once Barb had left, Leslie turned to Ann with a slightly manic grin, opened her mouth, and then froze. After several moments of silence, it became clear that Leslie was short-circuiting. Ann decided to help her out.

"Why don't you try striking up a conversation?" she prompted. "Ask me a question."

"Question? Yes! Sure thing. Questions. I can do questions." Leslie produced a stack of notecards from her purse and started to read. "Which would you clean first - your office, your car, or your cat?"

Ann frowned. "What?"

"If you were a kitchen appliance, which one would it be?"

"I don't -"

"Would you rather be a mouse or a superhero? If you could get rid of one US state, which would you pick? If you were in the zombie apocalypse and could choose five items -"

"Leslie, stop!" Ann grabbed the notecards out of her hands. "Are you crazy? What are you doing?"

"I read online that you should have a list of conversation topics," Leslie said. "So I looked up some creative icebreakers -"

"Why do you need icebreakers? You talk to people for work all the time and you're great at it!"

"Yes, but those are work-people," Leslie replied. "Not date-people. It's different. If work-people don't like me, I won't end up a crazy spinster with twenty-seven cats that will feed on my corpse after I die."

Ann sighed. She was starting to see the problem. Leslie just didn't have any confidence in herself. She was bending over backwards trying to perform because she didn't think she was good enough. She just had to help Leslie see that any guy would be lucky to have her.

Or...maybe Dave could help Leslie see it.

She cleared her throat and straightened her tie and tried to pretend she was a streetwise cop like on SVU.

"So, Leslie," she said gruffly. "It seems to me like you're a little nervous."

Leslie's eyes went wide, and then her mouth twitched and Ann could tell that she was trying not to laugh. Okay, maybe the voice was a bad idea. But she couldn't back out now, she was already committed.

"It's okay," she went on. "I'm a little nervous myself."

"But you're a cop!" Leslie protested. "You deal with criminals and lowlifes every day! Why would you be nervous about a date?"

Ann smiled. "Well, this is Pawnee. Most of my 'criminals and lowlifes' are middle-aged soccer moms fighting over discounted juice boxes at Target."

"Hey, those ladies are terrifying," Leslie retorted. "I went shopping on Black Friday and it was like Braveheart in there!" She dropped her voice and fixed a scowl on her face: "They may take our lives, but they'll never take our fifty percent off Sunny D!"

She seemed to be trying to do a Scottish accent, but it was even worse than the English one. Ann couldn't help laughing, and Leslie buried her face in her hands.

"Oh my god, that was weird, wasn't it? I don't know why I did it."

"Hey, take it easy. It's okay."

Leslie peeked over her hands. "You mean it wasn't weird?"

"No, it definitely was," Ann smiled. "But...in a cute way."

Leslie blinked. "Um. Thanks?"

"You're welcome."

Leslie ducked her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her face had turned slightly pink, and her eyes were so blue and the soft lighting made them sparkle -

"Here you go, ladies! Breaded pork tenderloin for you both."

Ann jumped. She hadn't heard Barb coming, and it seemed that Leslie hadn't either. They both smiled politely as Barb set their plates down and poured them each a glass of wine.

It was funny...for a while there, she'd really liked being Dave. And she'd been pretty good at it, too. It was too bad she was straight, because she'd be amazing at dating girls...

"Thank you very much," Leslie said pleasantly.

"Of course! No problem at all." Barb leaned a little closer and dropped her voice. "You two make a lovely couple, by the way. Enjoy your date."

"Our what?" Ann looked up, startled. "It's not - I mean, we're not - we're just -"

Barb smiled kindly and patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. I watch Ellen every week. I think she's just lovely."

And she hurried off before Ann could say anything. She turned to Leslie in dismay, and was surprised to see her smiling.

"Things like that make me proud of this town," Leslie said. "For every gay-penguin-hating Marcia Langman, there's an Ellen-watching Barb."

Ann swallowed. "Y-you mean you're not upset?"

"Why would I be? There's nothing wrong with being gay. In fact..." Leslie flashed a mischievous smile. "I'm actually flattered that she thought I could land someone like you."

"What?"

"Well, you're clearly the hottest person I've ever gone on a date with," Leslie said. "I mean, I like guys, but - objectively, you're the most attractive. Especially in that outfit."

Ann felt her face heating up. It wasn't her first time being on the receiving end of one of Leslie's bizarre compliments, but they still made her feel like a high school kid being invited to prom.

"Stop it," she mumbled, staring down at her meal. "You're supposed to be on a date with Dave."

Leslie wiggled her eyebrows. "Or am I?"

"Yes, you are," Ann said. "The whole point of this is for you to practise. That's why we're here."

"Right. Yes. Okay." Leslie took a sip of wine and smiled over the top of her glass. "So, Dave...what's it like being a cop? Must be tough going up against the likes of Fairway Frank and that scumbag Greg Pikitis."

"Who's Greg Pikitis?"

Leslie stared. "You...don't know Greg Pikitis?"

Ann racked her memory. "Um...no? Does he work for Parks?"

"No. He's my nemesis." Leslie glowered and crushed her napkin into a tiny ball. "I hate his stupid, acne-ridden face! I swear, the second he can be tried as an adult, I'm putting him away for a long, long time -"

"Wait, he's not an adult? Your nemesis is a kid?"

"He is not a kid," Leslie said through gritted teeth. "He's a pestilence. A scourge. A plague!"

And before Ann could say a word, Leslie launched into a wild and complicated tale of Halloween vandalism and youthful mischief, growing progressively angrier and redder in the face.

Ann listened in silence, nodding gravely from time to time, but it was getting harder and harder not to laugh. Leslie was just so...Leslie.

"Well?" Leslie demanded once she'd finished. "What do you think? There must be something I can charge him with, right?"

Ann bit back a smile. Leslie had gotten so carried away that she'd apparently forgotten that Ann wasn't a real cop.

"Well, if you want to know what I think," she said, "I think he has a crush on you."

Leslie gawked at her. "What?"

"I'm serious." Ann shrugged. "Sounds to me like he's trying to get your attention."

Leslie sputtered. "Did you miss the part where he's deliberately trying to drive me insane? He's Hannibal Lecter and I'm Clarice Starling! I'm Captain Ahab and he's my white whale! He's the six-fingered man and I'm -"

"Come on, he's a teenager. Boys that age are dumb. If they like a girl, they try to drive her nuts."

"Absolutely not," Leslie said. "Greg Pikitis does not have a crush on me. It's preposterous!"

"I'm pretty sure he does," Ann said. "And...honestly, I can't blame the kid."

Leslie's eyes nearly fell out of her head. "What."

"I don't mean the vandalism," Ann hurried to add. "Obviously, that's bad and there should be consequences. But I mean...you're smart, and you're beautiful and you're passionate about what you do...it's not surprising that, um, Greg would have a thing for you."

Leslie looked stunned. Then she ducked her head. "Come on. Stop trying to sweet talk me." But Ann could see that she was smiling.

"It's the truth," she said. "You know, I didn't realize working in Parks was so eventful. What else have you guys been up to?"

Leslie's face lit up. "Oh, there's so much. This year I finally got Ron to give me the funding to install hummingbird feeders…."

The conversation flowed smoothly from there. The pork tenderloin really was delicious, and Barb filled up their wine glasses a couple more times. Ann shared a few of her less horrifying stories from work, but mostly she was happy to listen. Leslie had so much to say that she kept tripping over herself in eagerness. Her eyes glowed as she spoke, and her love for her job shone through in every word. Leslie really had no reason to worry. If this Dave guy had any sense, he'd be in love with her in a heartbeat -

"You know, you're really good at this acting thing."

Ann blinked. "W-what do you mean."

"I know you're pretending to be Dave. You're just...really convincing." Leslie blushed and looked down. "None of the guys I've dated ever looked at me that way."

"I-I don't know what you mean," Ann stammered. "I'm not - I mean - that's just how my face looks."

Leslie raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Nice excuse, but I've known you for awhile and I know you don't have resting fuck-me face."

Oh, god. Since when did Leslie know how to flirt? What had happened to the woman who was so awkward she'd brought cue cards on a date?

"It's not that, it's just - I -" Her heart was racing and she couldn't meet Leslie's eyes. She'd never understood why people seemed to get tongue-tied on dates, and now here she was. And it wasn't even a real date!

Fortunately, Barb came to her rescue, holding a couple of dessert menus.

"I hope you girls enjoyed your meal," she said cheerfully. "If you'd like some desert, our chocolate cheesecake is delicious. And...it's perfect for sharing."

"Oh, I'm going to need my own dessert," Leslie said immediately. "I mean, I love her and I'd give her my kidney if she needed it, but no one touches my cheesecake."

"That's exactly what I tell my husband," Barb chuckled, turning to Ann. "And what about you, dear?"

"You should get something other than the cheesecake," Leslie suggested. "That way we can try some of both."

Ann raised an eyebrow. "You mean you can try some of both."

"I - what - no, of course not!"

"You literally just said you weren't going to share with me." She looked at Leslie's indignant expression and grinned. "All right, I'll have the apple pie."

"Apple pie à la mode," Leslie put in. "Pie without ice cream is just sad."

"Right," Ann said wryly. "Apple pie a la mode for me."

By the time they'd finished dessert and left the restaurant, it was already dark outside. The sky was inky black and sprinkled with stars. Ann felt giddy and a little drunk, even though she hadn't had much wine at all.

"That was really tasty," Leslie said. "But...you really didn't have to pay for both of us."

"Don't worry about it." Ann shrugged. "She'd already put us on one bill, there was no point making her split it." Also...even though this was all pretend, it had felt really nice to treat Leslie. She was such a great friend.

"Well, why did she give you the check?" Leslie asked. "Because you're wearing a blazer? Gender norms are outdated to begin with, and it's ridiculous to apply them to same-gender couples."

Ann's stomach did a weird little flip. She thought about pointing out that they weren't actually a couple, but then she didn't.

A gentle breeze rustled the tree branches, and Leslie shivered. Without even thinking about it, Ann took off her blazer and dropped it over Leslie's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Leslie protested. "You don't need to give me your jacket!"

"Hey, come on." Ann nudged her lightly. "My momma raised a gentleman."

Leslie glanced up at her, looking taken aback. Ann winked, and then they both burst out laughing.

By the time they managed to collect themselves, Leslie was leaning on Ann for support. She felt warm and soft and fit perfectly against her side. Ann imagined Leslie laughing like that over something Dave had said, and felt a stab of bitterness.

"So, Mister Gentleman." Leslie straightened up and wiped her eyes. "Are you planning on walking me home?"

Ann hesitated, feeling her pulse kick up a notch. There was no reason to continue this practice date - Leslie was obviously ready for the real thing.

But on the other hand, the idea was to make it as realistic as possible, and there was a decent chance that Dave would offer to see Leslie home.

And if Ann was perfectly honest, maybe she wasn't quite ready for the night to end.

"Sure thing," she said. "You don't want to be walking alone, with the opossums and Greg Pikitis prowling around."

Leslie laughed and squeezed her elbow. "My hero."

They walked slowly, neither of them speaking much, just savouring the silence. Their shoulders kept bumping together, and Ann reached out and put an arm around Leslie's shoulders.

Dave might do it tomorrow. She needs to be prepared.

Leslie went still, and then moved in closer and slipped her arm around Ann's waist. Ann felt relieved it was dark, because Leslie couldn't see the giant, stupid grin on her face.

They turned down the walkway to Leslie's house. There was no sound except the chirping of crickets in the bushes.

"That was...really nice." Leslie said. "I really liked spending time with you."

"I liked spending time with you too."

"You know, maybe..." Leslie hesitated. "Maybe we could do this again sometime."

Ann glanced at her sideways. Was Leslie just saying what she would say to Dave tomorrow? Or...did she mean it for real?

She swallowed. "Sure. I'd like that."

They reached the end of the walkway and lingered at the door. Ann could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"So…" Leslie glanced up, looking almost shy. "If - if this wasn't just practice, if this was the real thing...what would you tell me to do now?"

"I - um - well…" Ann was having a hard time thinking, because Leslie was playing with her tie. "I think...you should do whatever feels right."

Leslie was staring up at her with her eyes glowing in the moonlight. A strand of hair had fallen across her face, and her lips looked so soft…

Leslie gave Ann's tie a gentle tug, and she felt herself leaning closer, and -

What am I doing?

She must be losing her mind.

Panic gripped her and she felt like she'd been doused in cold water. She pulled away.

"Okay!" she said brightly. "Great! That was great. I think you get it."

Leslie blinked in confusion. "Ann? What are you -"

"I think you're absolutely, one hundred percent ready for your date," Ann said. "Your date with Dave. Tomorrow. You'll be amazing."

"I'm sorry," Leslie said. "I shouldn't have -"

"You didn't do anything," Ann interrupted. "You did everything great. Your date will be…great. See you around!"

"Ann, wait -"

She could feel Leslie watching her as she started down the walkway, but she didn't look back. She let her feet carry her down the sidewalk and across the street, and ignored the icy knot in her chest that grew with every step.