Chapter Text
Leslie drummed her thumb nervously against her thigh as she stared, wide awake, at the ceiling. Even with his back turned to her, she could hear Ben's steady breathing, and if that wasn't enough, the slight snore that escaped his mouth occasionally was all the proof she needed to know he was asleep.
She continued to will her eyes open, occasionally pinching her arm, or standing up to walk a lap around the house before crawling back into bed. Around 1:30, she had tried to do a little bit of work. If I'm not going to sleep, I mine as well be productive, but her eyes kept wandering from the computer screen to the bookcase in the living room. Eventually, she had given up, gone over to the bookcase and removed the box that she had carefully tucked behind her favorite autobiography on Margaret Thatcher. The box felt heavy in her hands, the same way it had when Ben handed it to her to reveal her Knope 2012 button, essentially giving her permission to break up with him so she could run for city council. Not quite as weighted as it was when she carefully placed the Washington Monument inside it, giving Ben his turn to chase his dream. She closed her eyes and ran her hand over the worn leather exterior, recalling the way it had made her felt dizzy and flying when Ben produced it from behind his back, dropping to one knee, asking her to be his wife.
She had carried it carefully back to bed, tucking it quietly underneath her pillow like she had imagined a tooth fairy would. Ben never moved.
She could feel it now, still securely underneath her head, which was appropriate as she couldn't seem to take her mind off of it. No, she couldn't sleep. She'd blab about it for sure.
Which left her with one other option, just do it now. She wasn't prepared, and hadn't a clue how to approach it, but it was either that, or face her chamber meeting tomorrow with no sleep and enough coffee (whipped cream and sugar) in her system to power a small city. Now seemed to be the best choice.
"Ben," she whispered still staring at the ceiling. She listened quietly as another snore escaped his lips. He didn't stir.
"Ben," she said again, louder this time as she nudged his shoulder.
"Huh?" Ben asked as he jolted from his side to his back. "What? What's wrong?"
Leslie smiled at her husband as the moon streaming in through their window illuminated Ben's untamed hair. "Nothing," Leslie said as she buried her head in his chest and let him wrap his arms around her. "Were you asleep?" She asked, even though she was well aware of the answer.
"Like 99.9% of the population of Pawnee," he replied. "I was."
"Hmm," she hummed into his chest. "You know what it does to me when you talk percentages."
"Is that what this is?" he asked, rubbing small circles on her back. "A 3:00 a.m. booty call?"
"Only if you want it to be," Leslie smiled into his chest.
"Why are you awake?" he asked her. "Too much work to do?"
"No," Leslie answered feeling her pulse quicken. "I just have something on my mind."
"Work?" Ben asked.
"Not quiet," Leslie answered, willing her voice not to shake and hoping that Ben couldn't feel her heart practically jumping through her chest. "I have something for you."
"You woke me up at 3:00 to give me a gift? Steamroller," he teased.
"Sorry," Leslie apologized, too wrapped up in her own excitement and anxiety to read Ben's sarcasm. "I just, you know I talk in my sleep. I'm an open book, and I didn't want to ruin your surprise, so I couldn't go to sleep, so I've been up all night, but I really want to go to sleep, just for a little bit because I have big day tomorrow, so I thought I could just maybe wake you up really quick, give you your present, and then go to sleep for a few hours before I have to argue for the children's health initiative tomorrow."
Ben wasn't nearly awake enough to follow his wife's rant, so he just nodded and answered, "Of course."
Leslie sat up and switched on the lamp on her bedside table. "Sorry," she said when Ben winced as the light flooded the room.
He shook his head to dismiss her apology as he adjusted his pillows so he was sitting up against their headrest. "Is everything alright?" he asked as he began to pick up on her signs of anxiety.
"Yeah, no, yeah, everything's great. Everything's peachy. We're all good," Leslie lied, fairly certain that she was going to throw up or pass out or do some combination of the two.
"Right," Ben replied, now knowing full well that something was going on.
"Okay," Leslie said, seeing that Ben was obviously waiting for whatever gift was important enough that caused Leslie wake him up in the middle of the night for.
"I wasn't sure how to do this," she said as she pulled the box from under her pillow and handed it to Ben. "I thought about getting a string quartet, or a hundred white doves, but Morgan Freedman was unavailable, and skywriting is really expensive, and if I had to wait another night, I would ruin it for sure. I would tell you in my sleep, and that wasn't how I wanted to – I just wanted to tell you while I was conscious."
She perched on her knees as she fidgeted with the hem of her old Harvest Festival t-shirt. Leslie Knope wasn't a nervous person, and the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach was a new nuisance that she wasn't sure how to deal with. "Open it," she nodded toward the box willing the lump in her throat to go away.
Ben stared at Leslie a second longer, positive that his heart was ready to burst through his chest. "Leslie," he asked, sure he knew what the box would contain, hoping with everything he had that his prediction was true.
"Just open it," she smiled.
Ben obeyed, carefully prying back the lid. As his mind registered what was in the box, his head spun dizzily and he could have taken his pulse through his ears. Words kept bounding through his head, but his mind was in no condition to form complete thoughts or sentences and even if it was, his jaw was far too slack to actually construct words. All he knew for sure was the feeling of pure joy that started warm in his chest and was quickly radiating throughout his entire body.
"Well, say something," Leslie pleaded as a small tear escaping from the corner of her eye.
Ben's own eyes became blurry with tears as they were still glued to the contents of the box. The same box he used to tell Leslie to run for city council. The box that had told him to go to Washington. The box that told Leslie he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The box that was now telling him he was going to be a father.
"It's positive," was all that his trembling voice could manage.
"Yeah," she laughed. "It is."
"You're really…we're really-" Ben still couldn't wrap his head around it.
"Yeah," Leslie answered, again. "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby."
All Ben could do was break into a big goofy smile as he pulled his wife into his kiss, his head still spinning happily as he thought of the family they were finally starting. "You're pregnant," he said happily in between kisses. "Like I'm going to be a mom and you're going to be a dad."
"Something like that," Leslie laughed through the happy tears that were now steadily streaming down her cheeks.
"We're going to have a baby!" He said happily as he stretched his hand over Leslie's stomach.
Leslie placed her own hand over her husband's. "Yeah," she smiled, her own heart racing with excitement and joy. "We're going to have a baby."
Ben met Leslie with his kiss again and gently pushed her back onto the bed as he hovered above her. He kissed his way across his jaw, the whole time telling her what a great mom she would be, what an amazing child they would have. He stopped when he found her lips, pulling away slightly so that he could look her in the eyes. "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl," he said randomly as he played with one of Leslie's loose curls. "As long as it's healthy, but whatever it is, I hope it's as beautiful, passionate, and kind as you. I love you and like you, Les."
The tears were back in Leslie's eyes, making it hard to see the happiness that was radiating from her husband's face, and even harder for her to say the words that could accurately describe how in love she was with him. Instead, she did the only thing she could. She grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him back into her lips as she simultaneously began pulling it over his head. His hands found the hem of her t-shirt and began to do the same.
They both heard the box fall to the floor with a gentle thud. Well, Leslie thought, I might not be getting any sleep tonight anyway. Not that she was objecting.