Ben had started to grow quite fond of Leslie Knope.

He liked to think they were starting up a lovely friendship. At least, he hoped, because she seemed to lighten up when he was around, just slightly. She started to smile at him more, rather than yell at him. She didn't flinch away or recoil when he touched her, and he did seem to touch her a lot lately. Whatever. It's what friends did.

She very obviously had the flu that day and her boyfriend, Mark Brendanawics, wasn't there to help her through it. Ben stood in her office while she curled into a puffy jacket, muttering about the Chamber of Secrets. "Where is he, anyway?" Ben couldn't help but ask her.

"In his office," she told him, causing Ben to narrow his eyes, but not where Leslie could see it. "He's really busy today. I texted him, though, and he said he hopes I feel better."

Ben frowned, reaching a hand out to rest on her shoulder. "That's all he said?"

She bristled. "What do you mean by that? It was sweet. He wants me to feel better."

"Well, yeah, but he couldn't come to see you? Make you feel better?"

"How could he make it better?" she scoffed. "He can't snap his fingers and make the flu go away. There's nothing he could do."

Something about this conversation physically pained Ben. Was that really all she thought she deserved? Did she think that's all a boyfriend was supposed to do, all that was possible? It made him sad, an ache in his chest, and he put a hand on her arm to help her stand up, wanting to get her to Ann in the hospital before this got any worse. "I don't know," Ben continued, unable to help himself, "he could… hug you. He could kiss your forehead, and bring you a blanket and chicken soup and waffles. Take you home and watch documentaries with you. Tell you everything is going to be okay, tell you you're amazing."

Leslie was standing now, stumbling across her office and flinging her scarf off. "None of that would make the flu go away, Ben." She said it as if he were stupid, as it that were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ben decided it was probably best if he didn't say that kind of thing again. "No, you're right, of course not. Silly me."

/

"AAAAAAANN!"

"Leslie?"

"Ann, beautiful and perfect unicorn Ann, I promise I'm okay and you can totally let me go."

Ann stared at her, dressed in her scrubs and arms full of towels, incredibly patient even now. "Leslie, I will strap you down to your bed if you talk like that again."

Leslie was not sick. Not really. Okay, maybe she had the flu, but the flu was nothing on Leslie Knope. The flu was merely a tiny obstacle standing in the way of her making her speech at the Chamber of Commerce. And Ben was truly crazy if he thought she would roll over and let him do it for her. Sure, she and Ben had struck up something like a friendship recently, but there was no way she had that much faith in him.

"Leslie?" Ann asked her softly, tilting her head to the side. "I could get Mark, if you want? Call him up and get him to come down?"

"Oh my god, why do people keep asking about Mark? First Ben and now you? No, he's fine. He's working, Ann."

"Ben asked about Mark?"

"He was being weird," Leslie sighed, fidgeting in her hospital bed. She really did feel fine, as fine as possible, and there was no reason for her to sit here and do absolutely nothing. "He said that Mark should make me feel better, or something. I don't know, Ann, it was weird. Maybe he has the flu and he needs to be in here while I go do my speech. Don't you think? I think that's it, Ann, I think I cracked this mystery wide open."

Ann was an expert at predicting Leslie at that point, and pushed her back down into her hospital bed right as she was starting to get up. "Ohhh no no, you get back down, missy. I need to know you'll be here and okay while I go check up on Chris."

Chris Traeger, Chris Traeger… Leslie's flu-ridden brain struggled to place a name to a face for a brief moment, before she remembered that Chris Traeger was Ben's partner. "Oh! Chris your boyfriend!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering quite well the drunken make-out session that had turned the State Auditor into Ann's boyfriend. "Oh God, Chris is here? He has the flu? Is he even okay?"

Ann smiled wide and gave Leslie a thumbs up. "Nope! He's doing terrible and he's dying. It's great!"

/

Ben didn't think he'd ever been more impressed with anyone in his life.

He thought Leslie was great, yes, that she was bright and capable of a great many things, and he had heard of so many of her accomplishments, but seeing her shine now, in front of his eyes, was an experience that could not be played down, that he would likely never forget for the rest of his life.

She wasn't even supposed to be there that day. She wandered in with too much flu medication and wobbly feet and something like an accent, asking for money and stumbling across the room insisting that everything was moving. Ben had been so worried for her, grabbing hold of her- just to keep her steady, obviously. It would be a nightmare for her to fall over or throw up in front of this crowd. All he wanted to do was throw her in his car and drive her back to Ann immediately, personally make sure she got back into her hospital bed and that she would be okay. He just wanted her to be okay. So why did he let her go up on that stage anyway?

Oh, yeah. Because when it came to Leslie Knope, there was no 'letting her' do anything. She did what she wanted to do, she burned too bright and carved a path to her destination, destroying everything that stood in her way. Even if that thing was Ben.

But honestly, Ben couldn't imagine himself ever standing in Leslie's way.

She delivered her speech perfectly. Not just very well, but perfectly, an expertly done speech that could easily go down in history as one of the best speeches ever given. Ben's face felt bright red and hot and he could swear he'd never smiled so hard in his life, and all he could do was clap and clap and stare in awe at the amazing woman in front of him. Nobody could do what she did. Nobody.

That was amazing. That was a flu-ridden Michael Jordan at the '97 NBA finals.

That was Kirk Gibson hobbling up to the plate and hitting a homer off of Dennis Eckersley.

Ben stopped, took a breath, and whispered to himself, "That was… that was Leslie Knope."

/

He went to see her later that day, when she finally got back to her hospital bed, thanks to Ann. He'd asked Ann in an undertone earlier if Mark had shown up at all, even for just a moment, to tell her congratulations or just to make sure she was okay.

"Not yet," Ann had told him. "Honestly, I don't think he will. He hardly ever knows what's going on in her life."

"Does that not worry you, as her best friend?" Ben asked her, his irritation at Mark rising. He and Chris should've fired Mark as City Planner when they had the chance. "I mean, I don't mean to step out of line, but she can do better than this. She should be with someone who respects her."

Ann looked like she wanted to say more than she could. "Look, Ben, I'm not going to lie to you, but I'm not going to indulge you either. I do think Leslie can do better. I think she deserves better than almost any man in the whole world. But when Leslie makes up her mind, it's kind of hard to get her to change it."

Still, when Ben went to visit Leslie, he wanted to give her what she was missing. Maybe show her what Mark should be doing, maybe make her smile, just once. He brought her waffles from JJ's Diner, which he quickly learned was her favorite thing to eat, and had spent hours working on his family's chicken soup to give her. She only wanted the waffles, didn't care about the soup, but he was so happy that she was smiling that he didn't even care if his hard work stayed untouched.

"You were amazing out there, you know," Ben told her as she dug into her waffles. He found he liked the way she ate them, diving right in, completely unashamed of the food that she loved. "I've never seen anything like that before."

She smiled at him again, and Ben felt something flip in his chest. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Ben, I am. It's just… this festival, it's my baby, you know? It's my one chance to make things right, to prove to everybody that I can do this, that I'm capable."

The words were out of Ben's mouth before he could stop them. "Prove to people like Mark?"

The silence that followed his statement was deafening, and Ben recognized his mistake instantly. It was too late to go back on it now. All he could do was hold Leslie's gaze, feeling like her eyes alone would melt him away into nothing.

"Why would you say that?" Leslie asked him after too long. "What do you mean?"

Ben's hands went to his forehead, rubbing that spot on his eyebrow where his headaches always formed. "Shit, I'm sorry, Les, oh god. I only meant- I didn't mean…" he took a deep breath. She was raising a single brow at him, waiting for his explanation. He wished he could run out the hospital doors now and pretend this never happened. "I guess I just have to ask, what are you doing with a guy like Mark Brendanawics? I mean, what do you see in him? He never…"

Her eyes were burning holes into his heart. "He never what?"

"He never seems to care, Leslie!" Ben exploded. "He never seems to care about anything at all, let alone you, and he's conditioned you so that you're okay with this, and he never believes in anything you do."

"You didn't believe in me today with the speech at the Chamber of Commerce!"

"And I'm sorry about that! I'm so sorry, Leslie, I was so stupid for not believing in you, but you had the flu and you were a mess, you could barely walk straight, and even despite that I'll never underestimate you again, and, and…" Ben paused in the middle of his ranting, something hitting him so fast he felt faint. Leslie was still staring at him as if ready to kill, so eager to scream at him, to scream her head off, and Ben was hit with such strong emotions that he nearly doubled over. His voice dropped and turned to just above a whisper. "And… and you should yell more."

Leslie paused, her voice dropping in the same way. "What?"

"You should yell more. At me. At Mark. At everyone. You should tell him what you want when you want it, you should tell him how you feel, raise your voice and make him see you, make him see Leslie Knope, just like I do whenever you raise your voice at me. Yell more, be loud and bright and passionate and be everything that I know you are, even when Mark is right in front of you and trying to quiet you down. Don't let him stifle you."

Leslie was quiet for so long that Ben was certain she would never speak to him again. She just kept looking at him, and he kept eye contact for as long as he could, no matter how much it hurt. Ben couldn't breathe, suspended in some moment in time where he messed up so badly that Leslie wouldn't even yell at him, she would just be so hurt that she couldn't say anything.

What she did say hurt just a little bit more than silence.

"I think you should go, Ben."

Gentle, soft, no hint of malice in her tone. He asked her to yell and she met his request with a whisper.

Ben was halfway to his car when he realized he was crying.