A/N: From an anonymous request on tumblr, wondering (just like I did) what actually would have set Andy on a road to getting fit - other than Chris Pratt being super devoted to a role. My immediate response led to this one-shot. Remember that you too can be a totally awesome person, if you have any idea or request or anything to say to me at all really, and talk to me on my tumblr!

Either way, have fun.

She doesn't know when it's actually started, but April definitely notices on the third night when he rejects yet another beer from her. Usually when they stayed in – which was happening more and more, not that she minded – nights devolved into drunken rants between the two of them but that was beginning to be more and more one-sided. The previous two nights were mostly her staring sullenly at him while he played a game on the new Xbox, with occasional comments until he realized where she was going with them, and then she basically blacked out after the sex.

"Andy," she said as she sat down next to him on the sofa, "what's up with the no beer? I told you already, you can't drink like Ron. It's too-"

"Expensive," he muttered, not taking his eyes off of the TV or his hands from the controller. "I know babe, I'm just… ah, I'm not feelin' it tonight."

She sat back into the cushion on the couch, staring at the mouth of the bottle before sitting forward again. The abrupt change in her posture made Andy turn around to look at her, and she just grimaced in response. He paused the game and put the controller on the floor, turning his whole body to face her on the sofa.

"That's stupid," she finally said after a few seconds of awkward staring.

"Well, I just don't want to," he was getting visibly sweaty and his hands were starting to shake.

"Babe, you love to drink and you love to drink beer," she moved her hands up for emphasis and brought them back down with a sad thud on her thighs. "Beer is probably your third favorite thing ever."

"Yeah, that's true, but I don't… want to. I think… I guess," his voice trembled and now he was reaching for his shirt. "I don't… it's totally fine. I'm totally fine. Don't drink beer, Andy."

He slapped himself on the face and returned to taking the sweater off, sighing and rolling his back like he was covered in sweat. Somehow, in the cold Pawnee night, he was starting to sweat quite a lot.

"What are you doing?" she deadpanned, watching the specimen of a man she was married to rub his naked back with the sweater he was just wearing.

"Everything's all gross and sweaty," he complained, stretching his neck and continuing with the shirt.

She sat back and watched him for a few more seconds. He wasn't grossly overweight, or even incredibly unhealthy looking like the rest of the stupid town, but he definitely wasn't a symbol of fitness. It had never bothered April because, to be honest, if he looked like Chris she might think she was fucking a diving board. Plus, when winter nights got as bad as they did in the Midwest, Andy being able to literally smother her entire body was pretty cool.

Not that she'd ever admit she liked to cuddle.

"Andy, what's the big secret?" she asked, breaking her stare when he stood up to air out his armpits by swirling his arms in circles.

"Secret, who said secret? I didn't," he grunted, keeping his arms up at shoulder level and pivoting them while talking.

"There's a you-shaped stain on the couch right now, Andy," she pointed to the cushion where there was, indeed, a familiar wet spot where Andy had just been. "You have to tell me, especially if it makes you this gross."

He just shook his head in response and continued his ridiculous exercise.

"If you don't tell me," she started, unsure what her leverage was supposed to be now that he was actively avoiding beer, "then we won't have sex for… like, a week."

"What?" he stopped immediately, his hands dropping to his side, but then he smirked and motioned to his oddly sweaty, shirtless chest. "Whatever, I know you can't resist this."

"That's what you think," she returned, taking a deep breath and ignoring the fact that he was actually right.

Andy only contorted his face in a mixture of confusion and struggle, starting a few awkward sentences and pacing around, before he stopped in front of her and gave her a serious look. Or, at least, he thought that's what it was but to April it looked like constipation or just lots of squinting.

"Okay," he said too loudly, making April jump back a little. "You know how I've been going out to lunch with Chris the past week? Well, we have lunch at first and he makes me eat this super gross healthy stuff, but then we go running after."

The look on his face meant that he thought this was some big secret, especially considering how disgusting he looked at that moment, but April wasn't sure where that was supposed to come in. Still, she had to play along.

"So, what, you wanna become Chris and live to be a thousand?" she asked with more than a hint of anger in her voice.

Andy wasn't supposed to be fit or lean, and he definitely wasn't supposed to want to be any of those things. So hearing that he actually volunteered to go running with Chris – and likely getting just a fraction of work done in the same time that Chris easily outpaced him – struck an odd nerve for April.

"Well, I just wanted to see if I could keep up for the police test thing for next year," he explained, sitting back down and keeping his shirt wrapped around his neck like a towel. "At first, but… I dunno, then Chris told me that if I keep eating the way I do I could die from it or something."

"You could die walking down the street tomorrow," she sat down next to him and gave him a once-over, trying to figure out what he was getting at. "So why bother not eating and drinking stuff you actually like?"

"Because I want us to get, like, super old together," he looked up and had a sincere, almost shy half-smile on his face. "I know it's stupid and sappy and-"

"So you're doing all of this," she motioned towards him and lifted the beer still in her hand up, "you're not drinking beer, you're exercising a little bit, and you're eating a little healthier because of us?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, nodding like it was more obvious than anything else he was saying.

"Do you actually want to get, like, super fit like Chris?" her voice wavered a little.

"He said I didn't have to go that far and, to be honest, that guy's a friggin' machine," he laughed, unrolling the shirt that he'd taken off and sniffing it before tossing it on the floor. "But, yeah, I think it'd be cool to try. Is it… y'know, cool with you?"

She hesitated to answer – she wasn't sure if she'd like Andy's body more toned and less pudgy, fluffy teddy bear but she wasn't going to suddenly stop loving him or wanting him. Maybe at the end she'd decide that she liked him one way or the other – either a little less extra baggage and maybe a little more muscle or Andy with a minor drinking problem and a lot of fluff – but it was worth trying. The one thing she was sure of, however, was that seeing Andy this motivated to do something because he thought it would benefit the both of them was kind of eye-opening.

April wouldn't admit it freely, or sober at all to be honest, but the idea of Andy running around in circles because he didn't want to have a major heart attack in his thirties was all right by her.

"Totally," she nodded. "I mean, if you get too thin I can just divorce you."

"Huh?"

"And then date you again when you lose all that gross muscle and get back to being the super soft Andy," she pulled him up and, despite the amount of sweat still on his body, wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You're the best," he whispered before putting his arm behind her knees and picking her up. "And to celebrate my awesome wife, we're totally gonna do it."

April just shook her head and accepted that she wasn't going to bed as drunk as usual. All that meant, at least, was that it would last a little longer and she was okay with that – and, thinking on it, if he kept going with this fitness thing then maybe…