Leslie woke up at five in the morning to probably the worst news in the history of the whole world. Nothing could top it, she was sure of that. And she was seething mad.

Shauna Malwae-Tweep's article had been released, and it wasn't the praise over her campaign that she had been expecting. Instead, it was a skeptical piece, with the main source being none other than Leslie's good-for-nothing boyfriend, Mark Brendanawics.

There were direct quotes from Mark detailing how unsure he was about his girlfriend running for City Council, how he didn't think it was good for her, how he didn't know if she could win or not. Leslie already knew some of these quotes, and even knew deep down that Mark didn't at all believe in her, but it was something else entirely to see it written on paper, with his and her name attached, for the whole world to see. The one person that was supposed to believe in her no matter what— just didn't believe in her.

The last words of the article were hard to read through tears blurring her vision, and she threw the paper down to wake Mark up immediately. He had slept on the couch last night, so it wasn't hard to get to him. She shoved at his chest and he immediately blinked his eyes open.

"Leslie?" he mumbled, groggy through sleep. She shoved at him again. "What the hell are you doing, is there a fire?"

"You're an asshole," she hissed, her body shaking with rage. "You're a complete dick and you never know when to shut up do you?"

"What are you talking about?"

Leslie picked up the paper and threw it in his face, not even giving him a moment to really read it before she was off again. "You did this! You said those things to Shauna and she printed them and this is that thing with the pit all over again except this time is so, so much worse—"

Mark widened his eyes, sitting up on the couch and letting his blanket fall off him. "Woah, woah, slow down. I said this stuff to Shauna in private, it was supposed to be off the record!"

"Well IT WAS NOT, Mark, do you really need to have this lesson again?" Leslie was seething and seeing red, blurry colors through tears coming furiously. "You can't fix this one so easily! Not unless you're going to sleep with her again!"

Mark sighed. "You know I would never—"

"DO I KNOW THAT? Really, Mark, do I? You say these things about me behind my back, what else could you be hiding? How am I supposed to trust you anymore?"

It was those words, combined with Leslie's yelling, that seemed to compel Mark to get on her level. He stood up, his brows furrowing in anger, one hand pointing at the paper and the other with a finger in her face. "Don't you dare pin this on me!" he yelled, his voice overpowering her. "And don't you yell at me like that! I didn't fucking know she was going to put that stuff in the paper, so if you want someone to blame, blame Shauna."

Leslie's hands curled into fists. "You still said all those things Mark! Just because you didn't know she would post them, that doesn't erase that you actually said it."

He threw his hands in the air. "So what if I did! Maybe I fucking meant it, Leslie, maybe I don't want you to do this because I'm gonna miss you and my whole life lately has been going to bed alone while you stay up late working, getting your voicemail because you're working, eating dinner alone because you're WORKING. It's like you're avoiding me, or there's no room in your life for me, and maybe I said that stuff to Shauna because I just wanted my girlfriend back."

Leslie was fully crying, silently down her cheeks, her face red and hair still not brushed down from bed. It took a lot of effort to gasp for breath and every word Mark spoke stabbed her in the chest and made her want to shrink, or run away, or just fall asleep and not wake up, she felt so small. She was small next to him and her voice was weak and she had no power. "You don't get to say that," she whispered after a beat, her voice trembling. "We've been together for two years now. I've known you for even longer. You wanted to date Leslie Knope and dating Leslie Knope means working late, and ridiculous amounts of ambition, and not resenting me when I don't stay in bed because I don't sleep well. It means campaigns and parks and supporting me after public forums. It means being there for me and actually believing in me when I want to do things, go places, make a change in the world. This is what I love to do. It's been my dream. If you can't see that, then… who did you even think you were dating, Mark?"

Mark was looking her directly in the eye, but it still felt like he couldn't see her. He was distant, and he felt so far away in that moment that her heart seized up with possibilities, and she was scared. Had she gone too far? Was she the wrong one in this argument?

"I'm going to get ready for work," Mark said, oddly calm. "We don't have to ride together today, I'll take my truck. We won't talk to each other at work today. We're going to think about this and mull it over and come back to it at home. Okay?"

Her chest felt tight. "Okay."

They did as promised, Leslie getting ready and arriving on her own at City Hall much earlier than he did. She strode into the Parks department and ignored everyone's gaze— she was always too easy. People could see through her instantly. And when Leslie Knope was feeling down, so did the whole department.

Nobody tried to talk to her, which she kind of appreciated. Normally she would love to talk, but not about this. They didn't need to ask anyway, everything they needed to know was in today's paper. At one point April brought her a mocha with extra whipped cream and she nearly cried and tried to hug her, but April ran out the door before either of them could really get a word out. And Tom did her the "lovely service" of leaving the office to her today as he was out doing… whatever it was that Tom did in his spare time.

She and Mark didn't talk that day, or visit each other's offices like they'd planned, but if they were both honest, that wasn't exactly out of the norm. What was worse for Leslie— today was a slow day at work. There wasn't much for her to do, leaving her to her thoughts and the guilt slowly eating at her.

Mark shouldn't have said those things about her to Shauna, she knew this objectively. But Leslie was not innocent, she was not blameless in their relationship. She knew objectively that it was very wrong for someone in a relationship to have feelings for someone else. It was horrifically wrong to imagine kissing someone else while kissing your boyfriend. It was the absolute worst to picture someone else's hands and someone else's face while having sex with your boyfriend. Maybe she was evil for wondering what Ben was like in bed, if he was strong or gentle, vocal or silent, rough or sweet. She would never ever admit in a million years that the only way she got off during sex with Mark was imagining that his hands were Ben's. Nope, absolutely nobody needed to know that at all.

It was all getting to be too much, and she had no idea what to do. She didn't know how to break up with Mark but she didn't want to be with him. She wanted to be with Ben but she couldn't without a scandal and putting both their entire lives at risk. She almost kissed Ben the day she announced her campaign. He was so close. He had been seconds from kissing her and the worst part was, she would have let him.

Leslie didn't know who she was anymore. There was only one person who really seemed to understand her at all and could get through to her. She knew it was dangerous, but she was sad and she was breaking and… she just needed to see his face.

That's all she would do. Pop in and say hello and go back to work. That was all that could ever be allowed.

Ben couldn't stop replaying that night in his head.

It was stupid, he knew, such a minuscule thing to obsess over, but for some reason his and Leslie's near-kiss only served to boost his confidence more than kill it. It was a miracle, truly, so much so that he even called Ann to tell her. Which was weird, but Ben liked Ann, and screw it, maybe he wanted Ann to be his best friend too. Maybe he was beginning to understand the appeal to friends you could tell literally anything to.

So, he couldn't stop thinking about how it felt to hold her. The exact shade of blue of her eyes. How she leaned in too and how Ben knew, then and there, that Leslie wanted to kiss him. They both hesitated, but the feelings were there and impossible to ignore and they came out so fast that there was no shoving them back in now.

It wasn't until Chris came in and passed him the morning paper that he started to think about something else.

"Awful stuff," Chris said, shaking his head. "It just makes me… so sad."

Ben scanned the paper and his heart fell, but even more so, he was furious. He felt very grateful that the City Planner's Office was nowhere near his because otherwise he might have ended up punching Mark. Which… would only end with Mark being okay and Ben with a broken hand. "Good lord…" Ben whispered. "I mean, god, how could he… when we came here as Auditors, why didn't we fire Brendanawics again?"

Chris pursed his lips together. "His job as City Planner was… and is, essential." Chris took a deep breath and started to jump up and down. "All this negativity, Ben! So awful. I need to get this out of my system so I am going to go do a nice 10k. See you later Ben!"

All thoughts of nearly kissing Leslie had completely left Ben's mind because now, he could only think of defending Leslie's honor. He had half a mind to call up this Shauna Malwae-Tweep himself and give her an earful about what's okay to put on paper, but he didn't. He shouldn't. Mark was definitely more at fault anyway. He was so heated and so full of energy himself that near the end of the work day, he stood up to go see Leslie, just to innocently check up on her, make sure she was alright. Just innocently.

But as Ben was coming out the office door, Leslie was already walking in. They stopped to stare at each other, and for a moment, it was awkward.

She didn't look like she was doing so great. She looked tired, worn down, bags under her eyes as if she hardly slept, even worse than usual. He noticed her shaking slightly and he wanted to hold her, but he held himself back.

"Ben," she breathed, a gasp more than anything else. "I was just coming to see you."

He couldn't help but smile, it was so easy to around her. "That's funny, because I was just coming to see you."

"Oh," she said, so soft, and neither would look away from each other. Their eyes were locked and it was impossible to break it.

It took Ben a long time to answer, too immersed in staring at her. "I, uh— I read that article. It was awful. If you wanted to talk about that, I'm here for you."

She smiled sadly and took one tiny step closer to him. It was only then that he noticed she actually held a copy of the article in her hands, holding so tightly to it that it was ripping at the edges. "I don't think I'd know where to start," she said. "I've been holding onto it all day. I can't look away and I… I don't know what to do, Ben."

"What is it that you want to do?"

He saw the way she tensed when he asked it. "I can't… do what I really want to do. There are rules, and… stuff."

Ben's hands started to tremble. She looked so beautiful, even now, with no sleep and filled with heartache. "Rules are the only thing stopping you?"

"Yes," she gasped. "I've just been… so sick of all these rules lately—"

"Me too." There were still a couple steps between them. Too many. "I usually like to stick to the rules, too, but…"

There was silence. But it wasn't awkward, like it should have been. There was an odd energy between them, and again they couldn't stop looking at each other, and Ben forgot where they were and that anybody else existed except for Leslie Knope. Even then, he had to stare hard at her to remind himself that she was real. She was real, and she was beautiful, and she burned brighter than anything, even the sun. She burned so bright that in order to survive, most people had to avert their eyes, because if they stared too long they would just get burned. Ben guessed that made him something of a masochist— he wanted to stare at her until he physically couldn't, just to test his limits, to see how far he could make it before he crashed and burned.

His next words came out fast, hushed. "Is Mark around?"

"No," she answered immediately. "Is Chris around?"

Ben didn't answer her with words. He rushed forward and pulled the article from her trembling fingers, threw it aside, and took her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers. She gasped when he kissed her, and took a moment to respond, as if he had actually shocked her enough to freeze her. He only pulled back gently, for only a second, because Leslie's grip tightened on Ben's arms and she kissed him back, harder and with more passion, opening her mouth to grant him entrance. Ben's brain went numb, completely fuzzy, his hand sliding around to cup the back of her neck, feeling how soft her bright hair was between his fingers.

They kissed in the doorway to his office in City Hall and they kissed without a care in the world, so lost in each other that the idea of anyone else even existing seemed ridiculous. It was then, in that moment, that Ben realized this was the point of no return. Before he kissed her, there were only images and dreams and possibilities. But now there was the real thing, and that would not be so easily shaken. Ben could see himself kissing Leslie Knope for the rest of his life.

They pulled away breathlessly, and Leslie's eyes met his. From her whisper, it was evident she was thinking the exact same thing he was.

"Uh oh."