A/N: I've had requests for more Ron interaction for a while, and I've been sprinkling some of that in as we continue, but I got an anonymous request for a Ron and April friendship bit inspired by 7x04. So there are tiny spoilers.

Like last chapter, April/Andy is in there but it's primarily character interaction outside of that.

At least, in his mind, he had April. Where these new people continually poured in, clad in actual business attire and workplace attitudes, there was always April sitting in Leslie's old office and refusing to work. He had solace in knowing somebody was still in his good graces, somebody that bothered to stick around and help him demolish this paltry, municipal hellhole.

It wasn't that he was missing Tom, the hyperactive entrepreneurial spirit that America sorely needed, or Donna who was confidence in privacy epitomized. Losing April to the vast unknown of new Pawnee, that last vestige of not-giving-a-shit that she even still clung onto, wouldn't be devastating because she was a friend. After all, she was just a workplace acquaintance.

That's it.

Ron, as such, continued to expressly, thoroughly and obviously, enjoy not her company but the fact that they shared similar viewpoints. It didn't matter that he'd ask her how Andy was, or ask how Leslie was, since none of that mattered. They were all fleeting moments in his life; just people. They were all just people. His people.

One afternoon, Ron holds in an urge to stand up and walk calmly to meet Leslie as she entered his department. The door to April's office opened for the first time that day, save for when she arrived at work, and Ron's heart sunk. He wasn't an idiot - he knew what this was. Leslie had a very large stack of folders in her hand and April had her bag over her shoulder, as if this was a casual meeting. It likely was, a casual meeting that is, save for the fact that it may have also been a work-related meeting.

But Ron didn't care. He only waved silently to the two of them as they turned and looked at him.

But Ron did care, especially when they didn't seem to notice him waving.

"Ron, I need to talk to you about something," April opened the door to his office one day, an unsure look on her face.

"Continue," he muttered, motioning to a seat.

There was a time, for a year or so after Leslie left for the National Parks Service, that they had lunch together in this office. Neither of them said a word, only eating, and never making eye contact. To Ron, that silence and absolute disinterest in the other person, it was the perfect lunch hour. Only occasionally would someone bother to interrupt their quiet, earning a combined glare from the two of them.

It was actually kind of incredible, not that Ron loved it or anything.

"Y'know how Leslie and I went out for lunch a few weeks ago?" she was playing with her hands, fidgeting. Ron knew that meant she was anxious. Her absolute eye contact meant it was important; crucial.

"Yes," he answered slowly. He knew exactly where this was going.

Apparently April understood he knew, because her lips tightened in that flat line of refusal. "She offered me a job," she said softly.

"And?"

"I took it," April finished, shrugging a little, "and I'm gonna be out of here in, like, two weeks or something."

"Okay," he said simply and maintained a level face. This was his last acquaintance leaving for bigger and better things, the last of the group he... acquired a taste for enjoying being around.

"That's it?" her face scrunched up, like a little kid that expected more when she showed her friends a pile of dead bugs. Ron knew that's what that look meant because April literally did that in first grade.

"Yes, you are an adult with your own life," and Ron sighed, so heavily he thought she'd notice but if she did April said nothing, "and you're moving on to better things. It's time."

April sat across from him, staring constant and without breaking. Ron returned it, hard, because he had no other reasonable reaction. All the others were fitting for people of much less personal and great dignity as Ron Swanson, so he bottled those up and left them to rot inside himself. The only solution was to raise his hand across the desk as if to shake hers.

"How's everything at home?" she asked him, playing with the ring on her hand in the silence afterwards.

"Fine."

"Diane? The kids?" she looked up and her face was losing some of that even quality.

"Wonderful, and Andy?" he tried to keep it civil, unfriendly, and related to the obviously few things he'd known about her.

"The best," and her smile is telling, but then it falls.

"Great."

Their small exchange died out. Neither of them said another word until Ron cleared his throat and even then they only both moved uncomfortably in their chairs. After a few moments of silence, Ron finally spoke up.

"It's been... a pleasure," Ron's voice stumbled and they both knew it.

But she didn't accept it, instead standing up and walking around his desk. Ron immediately accepted the hug, and when April said something to him he nearly snapped his jaw trying to maintain a steady voice. He knew it was coming, and he knew it was going to be hard to let her go, but that didn't mean he wouldn't see her again. Then again, he had said that about Leslie and look where are they are now? So, when April said, "I love you," and it's quiet and she's breaking the hug quickly, Ron just nodded.

She walked out of his office, and they don't have another talk like that for two weeks. When she left, and her office was cleared out, she noticed him waving her goodbye. She gave him a small one in return and Ron took a deep breath.

That was the last one gone. His last fr-

Acquaintance.