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Leslie is sitting cross-legged in front of the couch in her apartment when Ben wanders into the room. He's staring at the phone in his hand like he doesn't quite know how it got there. Leslie looks up from the photo albums she's reorganizing, tilting her head at her boyfriend. “Ben? What's up?”
Ben shakes the confusion off like a puppy would water. “Henry's getting married. He just called me.”
“What? That's great! Do you know the wedding colors? I should start planning the - wait. We're happy about this, right?”
He laughs quietly, coming to sit beside her on the floor. A soft kiss is pressed to her temple. “Yeah. We're happy.”
Leslie squeezes his hand. Henry and Ben haven't always had the best relationship - Henry had a mean streak that was hard to ignore, especially once Icetown came into the picture. It was only after Ben went back to Minnesota a year ago to visit that they started talking again.
(“He's … better now,” Ben had said pensively one night in bed after he came back. “His girlfriend, Eleanor, it seems like she's mellowed him out a lot.”
“Okay,” Leslie responded, still doubtful. “But if I find out he's been mean to you, I'll throw hands.”
Ben laughed, moving close enough to her to lay his head on her shoulder. His voice was soft against her skin. “I know you would.”)
“Okay, great. Then what's got you so blue?”
“I'm not - well. He told me he's only having one groomsman, his best friend from college. It just -” he blows out a breath, leaning his head back against the couch. “I'm not upset. We're not really close enough yet that I thought he might ask me. I guess it bummed me out a little because I thought he'd still want me to have some part in the wedding.”
“Aw, hon, I'm sorry,” Leslie says softly, slipping her arm around his waist. Her fingers rub lightly beneath the fabric of his shirt, his skin warm against hers. “I'm sure you didn't say it to him now, but will you?”
“I don't know. It doesn't seem right, you know? I mean, he's getting married in a few months. That's bigger than me being a little upset.”
“Hey, you're allowed to feel upset about whatever you need to be.” Leslie taps his chest, smiling at him. “Just don't forget what you also have to be happy about.”
Ben looks down at her, a light in his dark eyes. “When you're right here in front of me, it's pretty impossible to forget.”
A heat sparks in her chest. Leslie leans up, mouth inches from his. “Where's the wedding?”
“Philly. Eleanor's family is from there.” Ben brushes a stray curl from Leslie's face. His breath smells like mints when he leans in. “I thought we'd go a couple days early, get some historical sightseeing in.”
Oh, she's done for. The photos are long forgotten.
“How many pamphlets about the Liberty Bell do you think I need to bring?”
“I think they provide them for you, so probably none.”
“But what if I have one they don't?”
“How likely do you think that's going to be?”
“Ben, you doubt my collecting abilities. I'm gonna bring four, just in case.”
Leslie insists on buying many, many snacks for the flight, just in case they get hungry.
“It's hardly a 2 hour flight, Les, how hungry do you think we'll get?” Ben asks as Leslie is stuffing her backpack with M&Ms and KitKats.
“I don't know, but do you want to find out and not have the snacks to fix the problem?”
“Good point,” he says gravely.
She's eaten half of them before their gate is even called.
“Are you sure you've left enough for the flight itself?” Ben questions wryly.
Leslie hoists her backpack onto her back, pushing her wheeled suitcase toward the gate with surprising speed. “I'm sure. Plus, I can always buy more on the plane!”
He watches his girlfriend board the plane on a sugar high, knowing full well that as soon as they take off, she'll be asleep. Leslie tries to fight it though.
“I know you want me to go to sleep,” she declares, rubbing her eyes.
“It's a 5:00 pm flight, why would I want that?” Ben teases.
She sticks out her tongue. “I'm gonna watch out the window and see if I can spot Ann's house from here.”
They pass through the clouds and Leslie's head is on Ben's shoulder, her breath coming in muted puffs. Ben kisses her hair and pulls out his book.
“I told you,” he says quietly. “Sweet dreams, babydoll.”
Leslie's lips curl up into what looks like a smile, though that could very well just be the sugar.
She wakes up once during turbulence.
“Ouch,” she whispers.
Ben looks down to see that he's squeezing her hand, both of their knuckles gone white. “Sorry,” he whispers back. “I didn't mean to-”
Leslie smiles slowly. Her eyes are still heavy with sleep. “It's okay, Benji. I like holding your hand.”
“Good,” he murmurs, “because until this is done, I'm not letting go of you.”
“Good plan.”
Their hotel room has a light that won't turn on. It's right above a little desk that Leslie is very excited about. She can get some scrapbooking done right here. If they can get this light on.
Ben runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a long breath. “I don't know. Maybe we just ask them for a new bulb?”
“Maybe. I could do it now,” she suggests, but Ben holds up a hand.
“Slow your roll. It's almost midnight. We're going to bed.”
Her bottom lip puffs out but Ben knows her better than this. He takes her by the shoulders, playfully guiding her backwards to the bed. “At least let me get a quick shower and change into my pajamas,” Leslie says, “I smell like airplane.”
Ben pulls her closer to him, burying his nose in her hair. “You smell like sugar,” he tells her.
She laughs, pushing him back. “Let me get changed, you weirdo. You might not care what I smell like, but I do.”
“Fine.” Ben kisses her languidly, teeth grazing her lip. “Hurry.”
Leslie gives a wordless agreement, words caught somewhere between her lips and his. Stupid Ben, always kissing her when she's supposed to be doing something important. It's a good thing she loves him.
By the time she's done her shower and changed into pajamas, Ben is in bed, book in his hands. She's surprised he hasn't fallen asleep yet. But when she slips into bed beside him, it's easier to see his closed eyelids, to hear the slow, quiet exhale of sleep.
Leslie smiles, gingerly taking the book from his hands. His bookmark is a photo strip they took on a trip to the beach before their last year of college. Ben isn't looking at the camera in the picture on the bottom - he's looking at her, at the way her head is tilted back in silent laughter. She doesn't even remember what she's laughing at. It feels sacred between her fingertips, like if she moves wrong, it will ruin the ink and the memory.
The photo strip is placed carefully into the book, set on the nightstand. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she whispers.
The lamp beside the bed turns off with a soft click. After her sugar crash on the plane, Leslie isn't expecting to fall asleep very easily. Plus, it's not like she sleeps a lot as a general rule. But after only a few minutes of Ben's breathing in her ear and the whirr of the air conditioner, she's out like a light.
Ben wakes up to see Leslie working at the desk, broken lightbulb now shining a white circle of light around her.
“Wha…?”
Leslie turns in her chair and waves at him. “Morning, sunshine. I got the light fixed.”
He rubs his face, arms cool now that the blanket's fallen off them. Clearing his throat a few times, his voice is still rough as he says, “I can see that. How did that happen?”
“Oh, I went down and asked the lady at the desk. She got someone to give me a new bulb.”
Ben sits up properly, running a hand through his already mussed hair. “And what time was this?”
She checks her watch. “About 5.”
“And right now, it's…”
“8:30. Time for second breakfast!”
“You already ate?” Ben shakes his head knowingly.
“Yeah, I was really hungry when I woke up. But I don't have a problem with eating again. They have pretty good bacon here.”
He chuckles, swinging his legs out of bed. “Let me get a shower and I'll join you for breakfast then.”
Leslie smiles, tilting her head to him for a kiss when he passes to get his clothes from his suitcase. “I love your morning face,” she informs him, lips already glossed. They taste like strawberries. Good Lord, she's incredible.
“Is that so?”
“It is.” She kisses him again, softer, fingers curling into the ends of his hair. “I mean, I love your face at all times, but there's something special about the mornings.”
He knows what she means. On the rare occasions when Ben wakes before Leslie, he treasures the moments. Studies her quiet face, the rise and fall of her chest, the magic a peaceful moment can hold. He gets to wake up next to her, gets to be the last thing she sees before she falls asleep, the first thing when she wakes up. It's a privilege he does not take for granted. He's learned his lesson there.
Ben could stand here forever, simply kissing Leslie Knope. But she breaks the kiss, tapping his chest excitedly. “Come on, hurry up and get ready. We've got a big day ahead of us.”
His girlfriend, almost as good as organizing and planning as she is at kissing him. (In her defense, that's a tough one to beat. She's freaking fantastic at kissing him.)
He nods, kissing her hair one more time. “As you wish.”
Before the bathroom door closes, he hears her call, “Love you too!”
The Liberty Bell is smaller than she expected.
“You're blowing it up in your head,” Ben says when she tells him.
“Don't say -” she lowers her voice - “blowing up in here, they'll probably kick you out.”
He reconsiders. “Fine. You're probably enlarging it in your head.”
Leslie grins. “That's what she said.”
“So you can say that's what she said, but I can't say blowing up?”
They leave before the security guard can escort them out.
Leslie sits in every chair that she can in Carpenter’s and Independence Hall. “What if this is where someone important sat? I'm sitting in the buttprints of history right now.”
“And that doesn't gross you out at all, what you just said?”
“Hardly. It's a little inspiring, actually. Like one day, someone might feel proud to sit in my buttprint. In the Oval Office, maybe.”
“At least you're not -”
“I'd feel proud to sit in your buttprint. You have a great butt.”
“Thanks, babe.”
They're sitting on top of a worm.
Technically, it's not a real worm. It's a tan concrete worm that stretches the perimeter of the playground. But it's kind of fun to imagine that they're sitting on a giant worm.
Leslie licks her ice cream cone before any more sprinkles can slide off. “This worm is a really good idea for a park.”
“You think so?” Ben carefully uses a napkin to wipe off melted ice cream from his hands.
“I do. It adds something really unique to the whole playground experience. We could probably get a lot more kids to the parks in Pawnee if they had things like this. Maybe a giant climbable raccoon or something.”
Ben points his cone at her. “You should suggest that. You work in the Parks Department now, you've got to show them what you got.”
Leslie grins at him; there's something fierce and determined in how brightly she shines. “Oh, I will.”
"Ooh look, lawyers!"
"What's so special about lawyers? We have them in Pawnee, you know."
"Yeah, I know, but in Pawnee, most of their cases are just about like, raccoon bites or tax evasion. It's nothing really exciting. In Philly, they need real justice."
"Huh."
"Yeah, Philly has never been more in need of justice."
"That can't possibly be true, Leslie."
They're walking back to the hotel the night before the wedding when Leslie pops the question.
“So, are we going to get married?”
Ben trips, one foot halfway off the curb. Leslie grabs his arm with a muted shriek, pulling him back up. They stumble together onto the sidewalk, Ben's arm around her waist. The press of his fingers through her shirt steadies her.
“Give a man some warning before you propose,” Ben exhales.
“Sorry,” Leslie says with a shrug. “I didn't mean to -” she sticks out her ring finger - “you know.”
He hooks his finger around one of her belt loops. She can make out a wry smile under the glow of a streetlight. “You do have a knack for timing.”
“Look…” Leslie sighs, “we're here for a wedding and it got me thinking. I mean, we've been out of college for two years now, dating for almost six. I - Ben. You know better than almost anyone how much I want to do with my life. I've got binders. But I've been thinking about how I can be happy without you, but I don't want to be. I'm far happier with you than without. So it doesn't have to be anytime soon. I just want to know if… if we're on the same page here.”
Her heart skips, louder than the traffic that still flies by them this late. Here she is, baring her heart on a random sidewalk in Philadelphia. She's almost afraid. But it's Ben. Ben, who ran away once because he was afraid but realized they could work through anything together. Ben, who she loves and she likes and who she would do absolutely anything for. She's not leaving. She's in this for the long haul.
“Leslie Knope.” Ben's voice is soft. His hands come up to hold her face, thumbs gentle on her jaw. “You say the word, and I'll marry you.”
She could float away, right here, right now. Her body feels like it's high on sugar and the best news of her life, never coming back down. Her smile threatens to grow bigger than her face allows. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I've been ready to marry you for far longer than you even realize.” He's almost sheepish about this, in an adorably earnest way. “All you have to do is say you're ready. There's no rush. We have the rest of our lives.”
Leslie kisses him then, swallowing his words and feeling them settle in her heart. She has the sudden sense of being so small, dwarfed by the night sky and the promise they're going to make. One day. We have the rest of our lives.
Her words come out solemn. “I love you and I like you, Benji Wyatt.”
Ben's hands slide, one to her hair, the other to her back. “I love you and I like you, Leslie Knope,” he repeats with equal solemnity. “And one day, I'm gonna marry you.”
They make out there beneath the streetlight, on the street corner while they wait for the light to turn green, at the counter where they order ice cream. It's no Pawnee, but it's a little magical tonight here in Philly.
Leslie rolls her ankle while running for the elevator. They make it on just in time, but it hurts like crap to lean on. The doors slide open for them to leave and Ben picks her up with surprising ease.
He carries her bridal style across the threshold to their hotel room. She isn't sure whether it's the aching ankle or the look in his eyes as he stares down at her, but Leslie kind of wants to cry.
She doesn't need to tell him she loves him. But she does anyway, over and over again.
I'm getting married, she texts Ann, half asleep.
Ann is a saint and doesn't flip out when she reads the text in the morning.
I'm assuming you mean you're talking about it?
Oh we've talked about it alright.
In bed hehe.
Ew gross
Only kidding hon that's amazing, I'm so happy for you!!!! We have a LOT to talk about when you get home
Obviously. You and Ben will have to go ring shopping at some point, but we can make those plans later.
Obviously
Everything smells like flowers. The reception had been seemingly strung top to bottom with flowers and the smell lingers. Leslie is leaving the backyard where it was held and can smell that Ben walked out ahead of her. She smiles and follows the scent of sweet petals and cologne to find him talking to Henry by his car.
She hangs back by their rental car, drafting a tipsy text to Ann about her thoughts on all the wedding dresses. (In short, they were beautiful and she has lots of ideas for Ann in the future.) It's only when she hears her name that her attention is diverted.
“Leslie really killed it on the dance floor tonight,” Henry laughs.
“Leslie? Oh yeah, she had champagne and a lot of sugar. She's totally going to crash on the way back to the hotel,” Ben replies.
Leslie grins. He knows her so well.
Henry unlocks his car. “You know,” he says slowly, “it took me way too long to ask Ele to marry me. I thought she was going to kill me for making her wait so long.”
She hears Ben's hands slide into his pockets. “Well, the wedding was beautiful. I'm really glad we could make it.”
“Yeah, yeah, it was great. But listen. Don't make Leslie wait too long.”
Leslie is looking at her phone, she is, she's not looking up, craning her neck to try to see Ben's face. She's not.
“I don't plan to,” Ben replies confidently.
She looks down at her left hand. Her ring finger is looking a little empty.
A diamond would look really nice there, she decides. She should get one of those soon.
They eat lunch in Love Park before they leave for the airport and Leslie can't stop staring at the statue.
“What are you thinking about?” Ben asks, hand around his cold can of soda.
His girlfriend rests her chin in her hand. “Love,” she says dreamily. “And parks.”
He lifts her other hand and kisses her fingers. “I thought you might be.”