A/N: Can we not have a big entrance? Re-entrance? I can't promise much, but the bug bit me and I want to let... the... disease take hold? This stream-of-consciousness stuff is hard.

This was a request from probably 4 years ago and I'm almost certain that person doesn't read this anymore. If you do, sorry it took so long!

Request: April becomes insecure of the age gap (between her and Andy)!

This was maybe the closest thing to a deal-breaker in their relationship since Andy learned April had never seen any of the Terminator movies. Which was, of course, a tragedy that was remedied in an instant in a double-feature all-nighter with only sparse breaks to make out. It was a total success, obviously, and Andy was pretty sure that she knew the plots of the movies now. At the very least, she knew there even was a first movie.

But this? April seemed unsure how to cope with this revelation.

"Dude, how in the world do you not know who The Killers are?" she cried.

"Because they sound like another one of your made up bands, babe," Andy said. "The ones that you say exist just to get Jerry to look them up over his breaks."

"It's fun watching him fail," she admits.

Andy took out the veggie burger that Chris had offered them - for free - if they would stop eating the grease-drenched nightmares served elsewhere in Pawnee. They sat across from each other in the City Hall courtyard. The thing smelled of distant socks, faint but not quite right and with every bite the smell only reinforced the foul taste in his mouth.

"Okay, hon, if they do exist," Andy lifted his hand, crossing no fingers, "then, Scout's honor, I'll apologize."

"Andy, you have to-"

"I said Scout's honor!"

Andy took another bite of his sandwich, hoping that maybe this time the raw vegetables and perfectly cooked yet still disgusting mushroom would mesh into something resembling food. He opened his mouth and let the food drop out of his mouth onto the ground, something that would normally leave April at least chuckling.

"Ugh, this sucks," April crossed her arms without hint of a chuckle.

Andy put down his burgers and asked, "The burgers? Oh yeah, they're terrible. Chris didn't even put any meat on them!"

"They're vegetarian-"

"No, I don't think the burger eats anything," Andy said with a confused look on his face. April rolled her lips to avoid a smile at work.

"That's not what I meant anyways!"

"Okay…"

Andy couldn't think of what could pose such a problem with her day-to-day that wasn't this burger. If anything, Andy would have to go see Chris and ask him to never offer food again. The upshot to this whole thing was that it would be free. The downside? Andy wanted to die everytime he took a bite of the fungus-filled food.

Maybe it had something to do with his hair, he thought. Reaching up, he slicked it back until he was certain his hair wasn't shooting out in random directions. Instead it would be shooting backward in one consistent direction which is totally way better. Lost in the thought of whether April thought it was hotter, Andy furrowed his brow. This would be one of those questions for the ages, probably, but now was not the time to be considering whether his hair was cooler this way or that.

"It's just… you don't know anything about the stuff I was into when I was younger," April lamented. "Like, this band was huge and it's not like you're fifty or anything."

"Well you don't really know anything about stuff I dug," Andy noted. "Plus, you're young."

"We watched those dumb robot movies-"

"Hey, don't talk smack about the holy two-logy," Andy interrupted. He raised one finger, a serious expression on his face.

Lost in the word two-logy for a second, April snapped, "We just watched them, like, last week."

"Oh, yeah."

"It's so weird, though. Like, do we even have anything in common?" April looked down with genuine concern.

"Oh, babe," Andy attempted to throw his burger into the trash can across the courtyard and succeeded in hitting a window to the Parks department. "We have loads in common."

"Like what?"

"Like, music," Andy started counting on his fingers.

"We just went over how you don't know The Killers, The Smiths, Wingnut Dishwashers Union…"

"Okay, so we both like video games and TV, and…" Andy trailed off.

They sat in a sort of stunned silence for a moment. Was that really all they had in common? That couldn't be true. Andy stared at his hand and shook his head.

"Is it 'cause I'm so much older than you?" He asked with a slow drawl.

"Andy, I don't like this conversation anymore," April said.

Thinking on his feet, a particular skill of his, Andy said, "Does it matter? Don't we have fun being together anyways?"

"Well, yeah-"

"And when you read and I watch TV, isn't it cool?" Andy offered.

"It's pretty cool," April admitted. "You have gotten used to giving me a foot massage even when commercials aren't on."

"See! And I love when you make fun of Ben while I'm eating, and all the other times we're hanging out," Andy blurted out. "Or like when we make fun of everyone online playing the same games I do."

"Well they are kinda lame."

"And when I'm playing you sometimes do stuff-"

April's wide eyes and brightening face were a telltale sign to reconsider that sentence. Even when no one was around she could get embarrassed about that sort of thing. Andy thought it was just about the cutest thing he'd ever seen, but the anxiety over how publicly he could yell about it shut him up.

"Like suggest that we go out drinking and pretend we've never met each other before!" Andy half-yelled. "You always say how hot it is when I-"

Her face tightened and April's hand balled into a fist. This was getting dangerous. Andy would have to think of something within inhuman moments. So, naturally, he said the first thing that came to his mind:

"I mean that it's cool that we're, like, sexy together."

April shook her head.

"Okay, look, I know there is one thing that we are absolutely, one-hundred percent on the same wavelength about," Andy tried one last gambit. This was all or nothing.

"What's that?" April said through teeth no longer clenched.

Andy stood up and sat next to her, facing April as she glared at him. He made a show of sitting awfully close, reaching up to brush aside the curtain of hair that had followed her jerking head movements. The effect was not quite immediate, but her icy stare did melt just a little with every passing second.

"I'm, like, way in love with you," Andy whispered, leaning into kiss her on the lips.

The fire of anxious worry didn't light her face, but April's cheeks certainly glowed after that. He was so gentle with that kiss, hand cupping her cheek like she was precious and kiss soft but determined. She responded in kind and it wasn't much longer before the kiss was deeper than safe for work. If April didn't remember what he had said, who knows where it would have led.

"I'm in love with you too," she muttered between the breaths they shared.

"No way," Andy said in faux shock.

"Totally."

"Y'know, you could show me that band later. Try and, like, show me what's so cool about them-"

April interrupted him with another kiss.

Andy wasn't sure if that was an answer, but at least she wasn't getting weirded out anymore. The worst thing in the world was seeing her face fall when he brought up how much older he was - which, as they kept getting older mattered less and less. It felt like that weight of worry rested on his shoulders because he brought it up without thinking.

The best thing in the world? That awkward smile she still had when they broke apart, like kissing him was a whole new discovery, and that short, tittering laugh that she was adamant never happened.

"You laughed like that again," he pointed out.

"Did not!" April countered, picking up her unopened veggie burger.

She pressed it into his face, the playful push smashing the bread and disgusting sandwich against his lips. Andy stood up, mocking rage and picking her up with an equal play protest. She laid there, shoulders and back of the knees supported in his arms.

"You totally laughed like that again," Andy said.

"Did. Not."

April pouted but couldn't stop from breaking into a small grin. He shared the moment with her, smiling and playing his role of the hapless man in love.

April kicked at the air in his arms, so Andy did the appropriate thing and sprinted through the courtyard doors. He yelled at the top of his lungs in City Hall, proclaiming his love for the coolest woman in the world. They laughed through the halls as they skated past the very serious looking folks working in the building, and several times April flipped them off with one hand while hanging onto Andy with the other. Eventually they wrapped back around the building and were nearing the Parks offices.

All insecurities fell by the wayside, replaced by this spontaneous excitement. All of that gone for their mutual smiles, warmth, and love.

All was right again in the world.

a/n: I'm really nervous about how shitty this might be.

Eat me alive.