advent calendar fic 12
fandom: Community (clay-u)
pairing: ballerAnnie/Jeff-in-the-box
word count: 1,340
rating: G!
spoilers: Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas
a/n: I'm actually posting dearygirl's advent calendar meme prompt a day early since tomorrow I am driving up north to go see Donald Glover in concert WITH her :) The prompt was "domesticity," and although this might not hit the prompt in every way possible, I couldn't resist a little bit of clay-u. There was a version of this in my head for human!Annie/Jeff which I still may write, because dearygirl is amazing and wonderful and deserves all the humble fic offerings in the world :)
“Jeff? Jeff! It’s me, Annie! Jeff, are you home?”
“No.”
“Jeff!”
“. . . Did I just hear a foot stomp?”
“No! It’s cold out here, just let me in!”
“Ugh, fine, hold on.”
A long pause later, Jeff’s door opened. “Um, heeeeeeey,” he said, at the same time Annie’s mouth popped open with a surprised, “Oh!”
“You’re . . .” she trailed off, holding her hands parallel at her middle, flat with palms facing each other.
“What is that? What are you doing? Are you saying I’m a mime?”
Annie’s eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. She quickly stashed her hands behind her back and it only accentuated her posture. Jeff glanced at her feet, en pointe and crossed at the ankle, and sighed.
“Come in, it is cold out there.” Jeff moved aside to let Annie past him before he closed the door behind her. When he turned around to face her he gestured vaguely back at her. “You too?”
“Yeah,” she blushed a little and patted at her tutu. “I wasn’t sure exactly how it all works, but,” she glanced around the living room of Jeff’s apartment. “Did you,” she began, gesturing to the tall narrow Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with all blue lights and a sparse collection of mismatched ornaments.
“It just kinda showed up,” he shrugged. He took a few slow-leap steps toward it and bobbed next to the tree for a moment. “It’s weird though, the ornaments are all ones I recognize.”
Annie stepped up next to Jeff. He pointed out a few crystal engraved ornaments as holiday gifts from his law firm, and some hand-painted globes that had been on his grandmother’s tree years before.
“What about this one?” Annie asked, leaning in to inspect a color-by-numbers portrait of Santa Claus framed in glitter-encrusted popsicle sticks.
“I was five, okay, it seemed reasonable that Santa would have a purple beard.”
Annie giggled and they shared a look. There was a moment of quiet, just the faint creaking of Jeff’s spring, and then Annie twirled around and tip toed across the room.
“So, you’re still clay,” she said, and he could hear the eyebrow-arch in her voice even though her back was turned.
“Technically silicone.”
“Hmpf, I wonder if Pierce is still . . .”
“Don’t even think about that. I don’t want my mind to go down the dark road of countless fake boob jokes.”
“Ugh,” Annie agreed. She lowered herself to his couch, crossed her ankles, and folded her hands neatly in her lap, holding down the stiff tulle layers of her skirt. Jeff boinged across the room, body flailing a little wildly with each landing, until he reached the couch. He coiled himself down into the box and then released, springing up onto the couch next to Annie.
“Enjoying yourself?” she asked, trying to stifle a laugh.
“Hey, I’m starting to get the hang of this. It’s actually a great work out. I don’t know how it all translates, but I’m expecting at least a twelve pack when I go back to my regular body.”
Annie’s cheeks went the same color as her tutu and Jeff grinned at her.
“How do we - go back.”
“I thought you would know.”
Annie shook her head.
“Well, we probably just, I don’t know, wake up the day after Christmas and everything’s back to normal.”
Annie sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t mind staying this way a little longer than that,” she said softly.
“You’re not getting tired of tip-toeing everywhere like a baby deer? Come on, that must impair your ability to accost people from bushes.”
“I don’t think I’d have to hide in a bush to accost you right now,” Annie shot back good naturedly, patting the side of his box.
“Is that a threat, Swan Lake?”
“Bring it on, Yo-yo Legs!”
“Parking lot. Now. Race for dominance,” Jeff challenged, readying himself to spring down off the couch with his hands clenched into tiny fists.
“It’s cold out there,” Annie piped up.
Jeff relented and grinned at her again. “Yeah I guess you would get kind of cold in that,” he muttered, with a vague gesture at her outfit. “Hey you want some hot cocoa? I think I have that instead of coffee now.”
“With marshmallows?” Annie asked excitedly.
“Don’t push your luck Angelina.”
“Wait what?”
“Nothing!” Jeff hopped down from the couch and began flailing across the room.
“Why did you call me-”
“What? What? Can’t heaaaaar youuuuuu,” Jeff cut her off from the kitchen. She heard a loud clatter of pots and pans rattling together.
“You know who Angelina Ballerina is?!”
Jeff’s head popped up in the doorway.
“What will it take to make you never mention this again?”
“Extra marshamallows.”
“Done.” Jeff’s head disappeared back into the kitchen with a squeak of his spring.
“And there’s something else,” Annie added when Jeff returned a few minutes later, two mugs of hot cocoa topped with mini marshmallows in his hands.
“Oh my god whaaaaaaaat?” he whined as he handed the mug heaped with about fifty marshmallows to her.
Annie tried to sip her cocoa, but all that happened was a minor avalanche of marshmallows that bounced off her chin and into her lap. Annie set her cup down with an attempt at an exasperated sigh and picked up the fallen marshmallows as she explained cryptically, “Well, when I was little our Christmas tree was always perfectly decorated, to the point that I wasn’t allowed anywhere near it.”
“Wait, I thought you were Jewish.”
“My mom is, my dad’s Episcopalian.”
“Hm. Go on.”
“Well, there’s just something I’ve always wanted to do,” Annie finished as she got up from the couch. She did a nervous jete across the room until she stood in front of the Christmas tree again, where she stood for a moment, posed in first position. She turned and glanced at Jeff over her shoulder and motioned him over. He sprung down from the couch and across the room to join her next to the tree. Annie glanced down at him and smiled, and then she knelt and lay down with on the floor with her head beneath the tree.
She sighed happily. “Come look, Jeff. It’s beautiful.”
Jeff scratched his chin and eyed the space between the lowest branches of the tree and the floor. He leaned experimentally to one side and then the other. He scooted forward and back, looking for a way to maneuver himself onto the floor, but found himself stuck upright, capable only of flailing this way and that like a turtle turned on its back.
“Uh, Annie. I can’t do this.”
Annie sighed again from beneath the tree, this time in exasperation. “Jeff, a little Christmas joy won’t kill you. Just look, it’s so pretty!”
“No, it’s not - I’m not being emotionally dead inside, I literally can’t figure out how to lie down.”
“Oh,” Annie sat up and looked at him skeptically. “How do you sleep?”
“Well the mattress is softer than the floor, so I can just kind of,” Jeff demonstrated, holding his arms at his sides and rocking to one side.
“Hm,” Annie squinted at him. “Here, come this way, and face away from the tree.”
“Annie.”
“Come on!”
“Fine.”
Jeff boinged a short step so he was in the position she instructed. “Okay, now, just um, curl down so you don’t hit your head.”
Jeff heaved another sigh, but complied.
Annie shoved his box over so it fell on its side and Jeff’s spring released and shot him out with his head beneath the tree. Before he could protest, Annie had laid down beside him. She reached up and took one of his hands in hers.
“See? Isn’t it so nice and Christmasy?”
Jeff looked up at the maze of pine needles and blue lights sparkling like a kaleidoscope. He glanced over at Annie, taking a moment from gazing up at the tree to smooth down her tutu.
“Yeah, it is.”
pairing: ballerAnnie/Jeff-in-the-box
word count: 1,340
rating: G!
spoilers: Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas
a/n: I'm actually posting dearygirl's advent calendar meme prompt a day early since tomorrow I am driving up north to go see Donald Glover in concert WITH her :) The prompt was "domesticity," and although this might not hit the prompt in every way possible, I couldn't resist a little bit of clay-u. There was a version of this in my head for human!Annie/Jeff which I still may write, because dearygirl is amazing and wonderful and deserves all the humble fic offerings in the world :)
“Jeff? Jeff! It’s me, Annie! Jeff, are you home?”
“No.”
“Jeff!”
“. . . Did I just hear a foot stomp?”
“No! It’s cold out here, just let me in!”
“Ugh, fine, hold on.”
A long pause later, Jeff’s door opened. “Um, heeeeeeey,” he said, at the same time Annie’s mouth popped open with a surprised, “Oh!”
“You’re . . .” she trailed off, holding her hands parallel at her middle, flat with palms facing each other.
“What is that? What are you doing? Are you saying I’m a mime?”
Annie’s eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. She quickly stashed her hands behind her back and it only accentuated her posture. Jeff glanced at her feet, en pointe and crossed at the ankle, and sighed.
“Come in, it is cold out there.” Jeff moved aside to let Annie past him before he closed the door behind her. When he turned around to face her he gestured vaguely back at her. “You too?”
“Yeah,” she blushed a little and patted at her tutu. “I wasn’t sure exactly how it all works, but,” she glanced around the living room of Jeff’s apartment. “Did you,” she began, gesturing to the tall narrow Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with all blue lights and a sparse collection of mismatched ornaments.
“It just kinda showed up,” he shrugged. He took a few slow-leap steps toward it and bobbed next to the tree for a moment. “It’s weird though, the ornaments are all ones I recognize.”
Annie stepped up next to Jeff. He pointed out a few crystal engraved ornaments as holiday gifts from his law firm, and some hand-painted globes that had been on his grandmother’s tree years before.
“What about this one?” Annie asked, leaning in to inspect a color-by-numbers portrait of Santa Claus framed in glitter-encrusted popsicle sticks.
“I was five, okay, it seemed reasonable that Santa would have a purple beard.”
Annie giggled and they shared a look. There was a moment of quiet, just the faint creaking of Jeff’s spring, and then Annie twirled around and tip toed across the room.
“So, you’re still clay,” she said, and he could hear the eyebrow-arch in her voice even though her back was turned.
“Technically silicone.”
“Hmpf, I wonder if Pierce is still . . .”
“Don’t even think about that. I don’t want my mind to go down the dark road of countless fake boob jokes.”
“Ugh,” Annie agreed. She lowered herself to his couch, crossed her ankles, and folded her hands neatly in her lap, holding down the stiff tulle layers of her skirt. Jeff boinged across the room, body flailing a little wildly with each landing, until he reached the couch. He coiled himself down into the box and then released, springing up onto the couch next to Annie.
“Enjoying yourself?” she asked, trying to stifle a laugh.
“Hey, I’m starting to get the hang of this. It’s actually a great work out. I don’t know how it all translates, but I’m expecting at least a twelve pack when I go back to my regular body.”
Annie’s cheeks went the same color as her tutu and Jeff grinned at her.
“How do we - go back.”
“I thought you would know.”
Annie shook her head.
“Well, we probably just, I don’t know, wake up the day after Christmas and everything’s back to normal.”
Annie sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t mind staying this way a little longer than that,” she said softly.
“You’re not getting tired of tip-toeing everywhere like a baby deer? Come on, that must impair your ability to accost people from bushes.”
“I don’t think I’d have to hide in a bush to accost you right now,” Annie shot back good naturedly, patting the side of his box.
“Is that a threat, Swan Lake?”
“Bring it on, Yo-yo Legs!”
“Parking lot. Now. Race for dominance,” Jeff challenged, readying himself to spring down off the couch with his hands clenched into tiny fists.
“It’s cold out there,” Annie piped up.
Jeff relented and grinned at her again. “Yeah I guess you would get kind of cold in that,” he muttered, with a vague gesture at her outfit. “Hey you want some hot cocoa? I think I have that instead of coffee now.”
“With marshmallows?” Annie asked excitedly.
“Don’t push your luck Angelina.”
“Wait what?”
“Nothing!” Jeff hopped down from the couch and began flailing across the room.
“Why did you call me-”
“What? What? Can’t heaaaaar youuuuuu,” Jeff cut her off from the kitchen. She heard a loud clatter of pots and pans rattling together.
“You know who Angelina Ballerina is?!”
Jeff’s head popped up in the doorway.
“What will it take to make you never mention this again?”
“Extra marshamallows.”
“Done.” Jeff’s head disappeared back into the kitchen with a squeak of his spring.
“And there’s something else,” Annie added when Jeff returned a few minutes later, two mugs of hot cocoa topped with mini marshmallows in his hands.
“Oh my god whaaaaaaaat?” he whined as he handed the mug heaped with about fifty marshmallows to her.
Annie tried to sip her cocoa, but all that happened was a minor avalanche of marshmallows that bounced off her chin and into her lap. Annie set her cup down with an attempt at an exasperated sigh and picked up the fallen marshmallows as she explained cryptically, “Well, when I was little our Christmas tree was always perfectly decorated, to the point that I wasn’t allowed anywhere near it.”
“Wait, I thought you were Jewish.”
“My mom is, my dad’s Episcopalian.”
“Hm. Go on.”
“Well, there’s just something I’ve always wanted to do,” Annie finished as she got up from the couch. She did a nervous jete across the room until she stood in front of the Christmas tree again, where she stood for a moment, posed in first position. She turned and glanced at Jeff over her shoulder and motioned him over. He sprung down from the couch and across the room to join her next to the tree. Annie glanced down at him and smiled, and then she knelt and lay down with on the floor with her head beneath the tree.
She sighed happily. “Come look, Jeff. It’s beautiful.”
Jeff scratched his chin and eyed the space between the lowest branches of the tree and the floor. He leaned experimentally to one side and then the other. He scooted forward and back, looking for a way to maneuver himself onto the floor, but found himself stuck upright, capable only of flailing this way and that like a turtle turned on its back.
“Uh, Annie. I can’t do this.”
Annie sighed again from beneath the tree, this time in exasperation. “Jeff, a little Christmas joy won’t kill you. Just look, it’s so pretty!”
“No, it’s not - I’m not being emotionally dead inside, I literally can’t figure out how to lie down.”
“Oh,” Annie sat up and looked at him skeptically. “How do you sleep?”
“Well the mattress is softer than the floor, so I can just kind of,” Jeff demonstrated, holding his arms at his sides and rocking to one side.
“Hm,” Annie squinted at him. “Here, come this way, and face away from the tree.”
“Annie.”
“Come on!”
“Fine.”
Jeff boinged a short step so he was in the position she instructed. “Okay, now, just um, curl down so you don’t hit your head.”
Jeff heaved another sigh, but complied.
Annie shoved his box over so it fell on its side and Jeff’s spring released and shot him out with his head beneath the tree. Before he could protest, Annie had laid down beside him. She reached up and took one of his hands in hers.
“See? Isn’t it so nice and Christmasy?”
Jeff looked up at the maze of pine needles and blue lights sparkling like a kaleidoscope. He glanced over at Annie, taking a moment from gazing up at the tree to smooth down her tutu.
“Yeah, it is.”