that is their song (1/2)
Pairing: Jeff/Annie
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through 2.11
Word Count: 5130
Disclaimer: Yeah, still don't own it. Bummer.
Description: Annie and Jeff spend Christmas Day together.
Author’s Note: I wanted to get this entire thing up before Christmas but it’s just not going to happen. I hope to have the second part posted by the end of the year though.
“A Christmas Story” is referenced a bunch throughout this chapter. Apologies to those who haven’t seen it.
Muchas gracias to 0penhearts for the beta and helping to course correct some issues. I bow to her genius as always.
~*~*~
The day starts badly.
Jeff is curled into the warmth of his couch, face buried in a pillow, when three short, high-pitched screeches of the fire alarm startle him awake with a jerk.
He stares at the ceiling in confusion for a second, then groans and rolls up and off the couch, blindly stumbling toward the door as the alarm continues to wail away. A brief glance at the clock under the silently flickering television tells him that it’s only 5:30 am.
“Fuuu….”
It’s the fourth time in as many days that some genius asshole has pulled the alarm and sent the residents of the building running outside in a panic to pre-dawn freezing temperatures, and despite the fact that Jeff is (in his humblest opinion) a kick-ass defense attorney, he’s decided to make it his new life goal to prosecute the hell out of the perpetrator, if ever found.
Even if it’s the mildly attractive cougar from downstairs that flirts with him in the laundry room. Or sweet old Mrs. Bradshaw from across the hall. Justice will be served.
Because this? Is seriously cutting into his valuable hangover sleep-off time.
Somehow, in the midst of bleariness and rage, he manages to shove his feet into a pair of boots and bundle himself in a jacket before slamming the door as hard as possible behind him and stalking toward the parking lot where a fire truck is pulling in, lights flashing.
Jeff gives a gruff nod to his neighbor from down the hall, an exhausted looking man with graying hair who is arguing with his son while struggling to hold another, sound-asleep, child on one hip.
“Zach, just put on the mittens.”
“I. DON’T. WANNA!”
It’s hard to say what’s worse: The fire alarm or the whiny shouts of a spoiled child. Or maybe the sound of his downstairs neighbors as they argue nearby in a language he spent two semesters NOT learning. Either way, Jeff spends the next fifteen minutes leaning against his car, the throbbing in his head getting increasingly more painful.
By the time a cheery fireman allows them back into the building Jeff’s temper has about reached its boiling point and it’s not until he’s rooting through the medicine cabinet for Advil that he even remembers it’s Christmas Day.
~*~*~
Annie frowns in contemplation at the variety of sparkling sugar sprinkles in front of her, finally settling on a light blue, a green and a pink that she drops one by one into her basket.
The grocery store is quiet in the early Christmas morning, The Beach Boys’ “Little Saint Nick” playing merrily through the sound system. Annie hums along involuntarily as she picks up a few more supplies and crosses off the final items from the list in her hand.
With a satisfied nod she starts back up the aisle toward the registers but stops short as someone in a black pea coat strides past, headed in the direction of the pharmacy. It’s a familiar certain someone and for a second Annie thinks she’s hallucinated it.
When she gets to the end of the aisle she peaks around the end cap but doesn’t see anyone. Feeling foolish, she looks behind her, then follows in the direction he was walking. She casually strolls up the aisles, looking briefly down each one and not seeing him, or anyone for that matter, until she reaches the health care section.
Jeff’s about hallway up the aisle, blinking tiredly at the numerous selection of headache remedies.
Annie freezes for a second, then sort of stutters around in place, her fight or flight instincts waging a battle inside her head. She should go over and say hi - it’s Jeff, it’s Christmas. But then again, it’s Jeff and it’s Christmas and she doesn’t want to have to explain to him that she’s spending the biggest holiday of the year alone when he’s probably got a dozen parties to attend and women to sleep with and… whatever it is that Jeff does when he’s not at Greendale.
And then he notices her.
“Annie?”
She looks up at him, trapped. “Jeff!” In the quiet of the store her voice sounds way too loud to her own ears.
He squints at her, “What are you doing?”
“Umm.” Shake it off. Shake it off. She pulls up her shoulders and walks toward him with an air of nonchalance, swinging her basket. “Just, you know… what are you doing?”
He shakes a box of Advil in answer.
“Oh. Another stress headache?”
Jeff’s eyes widen a little and he inhales through his nose, lips pursed, “Something like that.” He sets the box down and picks up something with extra strength.
“You know, sometimes caffeine helps.”
“I’ve had about three cups of coffee already.”
“Oh. Or I’ve heard that dark chocolate works? Something about releasing endorphins…” Her words trail off weakly as he doesn’t even seem to be paying her any attention.
Annie frowns. He’s all hard edges and ill temperedness today; the allowances he usually makes for her aren’t there. She should just leave him to wallow in his own sulkiness. But.
“So! Do you think Abed’s still seeing everything in stop-motion?”
“Well. He left me a voicemail the other day and it turned into a song halfway through so yeah, I’d say yes. Either that or he’s now living the nightmarish unreality of an episode of Glee.”
“Oh, that would be fun.”
He levels a full-on glare at her, “You even consider putting that idea in his head and I WILL make sure you’re the one singing a duet with Pierce.” An evil glint shines in his eyes as he hums and looks up, “Maybe a power ballad. Something by Chicago?”
“Oh stop. Admit it Jeff, you enjoyed the singing,” she giggles.
“Lies.” But he gives a crooked little smile at the box he’s holding and Annie considers it a minor success. She gives herself a mental pat on the back.
Jeff finally seems satisfied with his choice and looks over at her, almost as if actually noticing her for the first time. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“What?” She backs up a little before spinning around and letting him fall into step with her. They begin to make their way toward the front of the store.
“It’s Christmas.”
“Well it’s not exactly for me. My mom’s working and my dad’s on a cruise with my step-mom. I’m just trying to keep busy.” The false cheeriness she injects into her words makes Jeff pause.
He peers down into her basket, “Keeping busy how?”
“Oh. Um.” She curls the basket behind her back. “Nothing.”
Her apparent embarrassment peaks his curiosity as he tries to glance around her. “If you’ll recall, I don’t have my license right now so if there’s duct tape and chloroform in there and you get caught at whatever nefarious activity you’re currently up to, I won’t be able to help you.”
“Jeff!” She looks around furtively and then sighs and holds the basket up. “I’m making Christmas cookies.”
At his raised eyebrow she continues, “It’s kind of a tradition. Before the divorce we used to do a bunch of baking together as a family. And then after… my mom just didn’t want to anymore.” She shrugs, “So I do it by myself.”
Jeff nods slowly but doesn’t say anything as they head toward the only open register and Annie sets the basket on the conveyor belt.
“You’re not spending Christmas with your mom?”
“Nope.” He doesn’t offer any further information as he begins to leaf through the year-end issue of People. His nose scrunches up as he changes the subject, “Ugh, I never agree with these ‘Best of’ lists.”
The cashier smiles widely at them. She’s wearing a pair of reindeer antlers with bells that jingle every time she moves.
“Merry Christmas dears!”
Annie smiles in response.
“Did you hear it’s supposed to snow tonight? I hope it does. I just love a good white Christmas. It just seems so much more festive you know? Just like the movies. Like that one with Jimmy Stewart. Oh. That man was dreamy wasn’t he? They just don’t make ‘em like that used to. Except that George Clooney fellow. Now he’s a charmer isn’t he? My, my….” She continues to prattle on as she scans Annie’s purchases.
Annie sneaks a sideways glance at Jeff whose eyes are practically glazed over with disinterest. She feels a strange tide of desperation well inside of her like she’s about to lose her already tenuous grasp on holiday cheer.
She’s not sure why it’s so important. Jeff has every right to be a scroogey little grinch but it’s Christmas. And maybe that didn’t actually mean anything to him but everyone's entitled to some cheer, right?
The cashier offers them a final merry “Ho! Ho! Ho!” as they walk away and Annie giggles as she leans into Jeff’s personal space and whispers, “Someone’s a little too into the holiday, right?” She adds a pinch of disdain to her words for good measure.
Jeff looks back. “I hadn’t noticed,” he grumbles sarcastically.
Annie opens her mouth but he’s already turning toward his car with a half-hearted wave. “See you Annie.”
“Merry Christmas Jeff!” she calls after him and then stands there for a full minute, her bags held in each hand, lips pursed in thought.
~*~*~
There’s a knock on his door an hour later.
From his position on the couch Jeff rolls his head to the side and sighs dramatically. It’s almost another minute and two more knocks later when he finally turns the deadbolt, hoping it’s only Mrs. Bradshaw needing a pickle jar opened.
It’s not until he’s already opening the door that he remembers Mrs. Bradshaw is in Arizona visiting her grandchildren for the holiday and it’s Annie beaming up at him from the doorway, bundled up in a huge knee-length purple parka. Her arms are laden down with about twenty recyclable grocery bags of something Jeff obviously wants nothing to do with.
“What are you doing?”
“My heater’s out?”
“Your heater’s out,” he parrots back. “That sounds suspiciously like a question. And the answer’s no, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
She ignores him and pushes past, heaving her bags of crap toward the kitchen.
“Annie. Seriously.” He shuts the door with a sigh and follows after, watching her warily from the hallway as she takes stock of the space and finally dumps all her stuff on the counter. A pile of his mail get pushed aside and a couple unopened bills fall heavy to the floor.
Annie pulls off her hat and faces him determinedly, her hair sticking out statically in a halo around her head before she carefully pats it back down into place.
“Well! You’re alone. And I’m alone and that’s silly. We’re supposed to be with people we… friends and family today. Remember?” She gives him a chirpy smile.
“Maybe. But.” He points to her, “Jewish.” He points to himself, “Don’t care.” Raises an eyebrow. “Remember?”
She only clucks her tongue at him and turns to start pulling things out of her bags.
“What is all this crap?”
“I’m making Christmas cookies. I thought I explained this already.”
“Yeah. You did. I just assumed that this display of weird Jewish Girl Christmas Envy was going to be taking place somewhere that is NOT my apartment.”
Annie spins and trains her wide blue eyes on him. “Jeff. Please.” And then her lips are about three seconds away from a full-on pout.
A muscle twitches in his jaw as a string of curse words dance at the tip of his tongue. “Whatever. Just clean up after yourself.” He turns away before the full affect of her smile can hit him.
~*~*~
Ten minutes later he stalks back in.
“The oven’s broken.”
“What?” Annie looks up from… THE HELL? Is she organizing his pantry?
Ignoring it. Ignoring it. He fiddles with a couple of knobs above the stove.
“Not broken broken. You just have to bake everything 50 degrees lower than normal. And not be using the stove at the same time.”
When he turns back around they watch each other for a moment until he sighs and walks out.
“Thank you!” she calls after him.
He doesn’t respond.
~*~*~
Fifteen minutes later, as she’s stirring the last of the ingredients together, he’s back, pulling a bag of Chex-Mix from the pantry. She’s concentrating on her task and barely even notices as he reaches over her head to pull a bowl from the cabinet until he pauses next to her, sneaks a hand into the mixing bowl and snags a tiny piece of dough.
She smacks his hand, “Jeff! There’s raw egg in that!”
He rolls his eyes and pops it into his mouth. “Hmm.”
“You’re going to get sick.”
“Unlikely.” He pours himself a generous bowl of Chex-Mix. “Your mom never let you have cookie dough when you were younger?”
“No. Because it’s bad for you,” she says all breathy and scandalized.
“Yeah,” he mock gasps, “So now this is your chance to live on the wild side.” And before she even has a chance to respond he’s reached out and stolen another piece of dough.
“Jeff!”
He looks down at her, amused, index finger pressed against his lips.
“Ugh, fine. Enjoy your food poisoning.”
“Enjoy your boring antibacterial life!” he calls back at her as he leaves the kitchen again.
Annie frowns into the mixing bowl, curiosity and challenge tingling at her senses. She’s never done any definitive research on the subject but a small amount couldn’t hurt. Right?
Experimentally, she fingers off a small piece of dough and pops it in her mouth, bracing herself for the onslaught of disease and bacteria and other horrid possibilities but as it melts over her tongue into coarse sugary sweetness she realizes that once again, Jeff was probably, maybe, right. Dammit.
“Was that good for you?”
She gasps and spins around. He’s leaning in the doorway, smirking.
A strangled sound of annoyance rips up from her throat as she whips a hand towel at him. “Get out!”
His shoulders shake with silent laughter as he pushes away from the door frame and pivots back around toward the living room but he shoots her an almost gleeful grin before he leaves and she can’t help but smile back with only a little exasperation.
~*~*~
Ten minutes later he’s back.
“I thought you were watching a movie.”
“I am,” he mutters distractedly as he rummages through the pantry.
Annie watches him in amusement as he emerges with a bottle of wine. “You’re just like the kids I used to baby-sit.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t sit still.” She laughs. “It’s cute.” As the words leave her mouth she flushes and goes intently about her task again, but putting too much weight into the rolling pin and scowling when the dough tears under her ministrations.
Jeff grins to himself and pulls two glasses out of the cabinet. “Cute. That’s not what my mom used to call it.”
Annie imagines a younger, trouble-making Jeff, bouncing around in restlessness and distraction, driving his mom and teachers insane. She has to bite her lip to keep from smiling too brightly at the picture.
“You’re not like this at school.”
“Annie. It’s Greendale.” He widens his eyes at her because duuuuuh, she should know this already. “That place sucks the life out of me and destroys my will to live. I have to use all my energy just to make it through the day without sticking my head in the cafeteria frying vat.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh really? Has Dean Pelton ever tired molesting you with his eyes?” He thinks about it as he sets a glass of red wine down on the counter in front of her. “Or his hands?”
Annie stares at the wine glass for a second and almost says something but Jeff’s leaned back against the counter next to her and is staring out the window, his face contorted as he seemingly recounts in his head the numerous disturbing run-ins with their very own Dean Dangerous.
She brushes a strand of hair out of her face and picks up the glass delicately from the stem, takes a tentative sip. The red wine smacks at her taste buds and the corners of her jaw twitch at the sudden bitterness.
When she looks up Jeff is watching her intently.
“What?”
He starts, almost as if he’s going to lean toward her, then changes his mind and pulls away from the counter, “You have flour on your forehead,” he mutters as he leaves.
Annie quickly wipes at her face with the back of her hand, watching the place where he disappeared from as she takes a too large gulp of wine and shudders.
~*~*~
When she drops down next to him on the couch ten minutes later he’s got his feet propped up on the coffee table, the wine glass and bowl of Chex Mix balanced precariously on the arm rest. On-screen the credits are flickering by as a group of children stand in awe at the window of a toy shop.
“The cookies are in the oven,” she says by way of explanation to the question he didn’t ask. “What are you watching?”
“A Christmas Story.” He pops a pretzel in his mouth.
“I’ve never seen it.”
As this he rolls his head toward her, eyebrow quirking upwards in incredulity, “How is that even possible? It’s on ALL day every Christmas.”
Annie shrugs, “I don’t know. I always thought it looked weird.”
“Wow. I never would have pegged you as an elitist. Shame. On. You.”
Her mouth drops open as she shoves at his shoulder. “Shut up. I am not.”
“Hey, hey.” Jeff grabs his wine glass before it slides off the couch. “You break it, you buy it.” But he’s laughing.
Annie relaxes back against the cushions, mirroring his position with her arms folded over her chest, “Fine. I’m watching it. Happy?”
Jeff shrugs, but as he tilts a sip of wine into his mouth she hears him murmur a sing-songy “Elitist,” into his glass.
She only glares at the television in response.
A few minutes later she pops up to take a batch of cookies out of the oven but when she comes back she has her wine glass in her hand and she notices that Jeff’s settled the bowl of Chex Mix into the spot between them to share.
They watch the movie in companionable silence, Jeff murmuring along with the lines he knows by heart, and looking over to watch her response to certain scenes. Annie jumps up every now and again to rotate cookies in and out of the oven but she accidentally burns the last batch after getting too into the scene where the leg lamp arrives.
At some point she kicks her shoes off and Jeff find himself distracted by the design on her socks: a snowman wearing a top hat, using a pair of candy canes as skis.
“Those are ridiculous.”
“They’re festive,” she pouts and pokes his calf with her toe without taking her eyes off the screen.
“You’re one step away from a holiday sweater with a working, light-up, reindeer nose.”
“Elitist,” she says mockingly back.
By the time the credits roll an hour later, Annie’s curled up comfortably into the other corner of the couch, her feet tucked under her, her elbow propped up on the arm rest. Jeff turns toward her with a smile, “So? Did that live up to your astonishingly high standards?”
She’s quiet but when she finally looks up he’s startled to see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. The smile slides of his face.
“Annie?”
She sniffs and uncurls herself, hopping off the couch and waving her hands in front of her face, “It’s nothing. Nothing I… I should finish the cookies.” And with that she scurries off toward the kitchen without another word.
~*~*~
Half an hour or so later he wanders in, shoots her a wary glance and starts rooting through a drawer near the sink.
“You want Chinese?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s the only place open right now that delivers. Yes, there’s food in the fridge, I’m not a completely helpless person but it’s Christmas and I’m not cooking. Besides, it looks like Santa’s Village threw up in here and I’m not in the mood to maneuver around, that.” He glances over her shoulder, “Actually… what ARE you doing? Those don’t look like Christmas decorations.”
“You’ll see.” She waves her hand at him in a vague “go away” gesture.
“I’m sorry. Did you just shoo me?”
Annie looks up, then down at her hand as if it had acted of it’s own accord. “Oh. Um.”
“UM. My kitchen.”
There’s a little something playful in his tone that makes Annie pause. Her eyes flash with sudden boldness. “My cookies.”
“That are currently being assembled in my rent-paid apartment.”
She scoffs, “Rent paid?”
Jeff’s mouth twitches up into a smile. “I’m only a month behind.”
“Ha!”
“Ha, nothing Ms. Righteous Indignation. Possession is 9/10ths of the law and the last time I checked, YOU didn’t live here.”
“Well.” She pulls her shoulders up. “Then I invoke my right to privacy. This is still America right?”
Jeff’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. For a moment he pretends to ponder her words.
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Britta.” He steps closer but Annie spins around, a spoon of green frosting held defensively in her hand.
“That’s a really nice sweater you’re wearing, Jeff.”
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”
“I WOULD.” She tosses her hair back and points her chin out haughtily, kind of waves the spoon in his direction.
Jeff ‘s brain flashes through a succession of memories: his head being slammed against a table, her fist coming into contact with his nose. It’s probably best not to test her.
But then again. A riled up Annie is a fun Annie.
He steps in closer.
“Jeff.”
“Annie.”
She stands her ground even as pink flowers up into her cheeks.
Jeff’s smile widens as he looms over her, a hand coming to rest on the counter behind her. She swallows, some of her resolution faltering as he snakes his other hand between them, plucks the spoon from her grasp and shoves it into his mouth.
“Ffanks,” he says over a mouthful of frosting.
Annie’s nose scrunches up, even as she lets out a shaky laugh. “Jeff. Gross.”
He pulls the spoon from his mouth, scraping the back of it with his teeth. “Oh what? You weren’t allowed to have frosting as a kid either?”
She sighs loudly and turns back around to pull another spoon from the drawer. “Did you say something about Chinese?”
Jeff finishes licking the spoon and drops it in the sink, having already forgotten exactly what they were fighting over. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and Annie goes back to the task at hand of carefully icing each (apparently un-Christmasy) cookie.
“Yeah, I’d like to place an order for delivery… Okay. Do you have duck?”
Annie scrunches up her nose in his direction. He meets her eyes and grins.
“You do? Great. Oh. No, we’re going to need the entire duck.”
Her eyes widen and she drops her spoon. “Jeff! What are you doing?”
“You can?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Well let me ask you this: is there any way we can get that with the head still intact?”
“Oh my god. Stop,” Annie laughs out, tugging on his arm. Jeff twists away from her.
“Why? You want to know why we need the head?” He exhales dramatically, “It’s for my girlfriend. She likes to see the faces of things before she eats them.”
Annie gasps, continuing to pull on his arm, but half-heartedly as her body shakes with laughter. Jeff looks away from her and up at the ceiling.
“It’s a weird fetish she has.”
“I. DO NOT. HAVE. A…fetish.” Her face sort of twists up as if the word leaves a bad taste on her tongue.
“Oh, and if you guys have a meat cleaver we could borrow that would be great too.”
“Jeff!” Annie jumps up onto her toes and manages to pull the phone down to her ear, practically hanging all her weight on his arm. He’s still holding onto it as she practically shouts into the receiver, “He’s kidding! Kidding. Just don’t… I’m so sorry!”
An annoyed female voice barks out, “Don’t call here again!” and then there’s a click as the call’s disconnected. Annie looks up at Jeff as she lets go of his arm and smacks his chest a couple times.
“What is wrong with you?!” But her words are choked out between giggles.
“Hey! I didn’t get to ask her if they could send along some carol singers.”
“You’re horrible.”
“Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra.” Jeff wheezes out as he continues laughing.
~*~*~
The finally manage to call and order dinner and the food arrives just as Annie finishes decorating the last of the cookies. She joins Jeff on the couch again, sitting cross-legged as they pass cartons of chow mien and orange chicken and crispy beef back and forth until they’re both full. At some point Jeff gets up and brings back the wine from the kitchen, refilling both their glasses until the bottle’s empty.
By the time the movie ends again they’re both pleasantly buzzed and Annie’s stretched out along the couch, her feet in Jeff’s lap. She’s bopping her head along to the song playing over a department store commercial and he watches her, one hand at her ankle, tilting it back and forth like a metronome to the beat of the music.
“Do you think that’s still possible?” she asks suddenly.
“Hmmm?”
Annie struggles to sit up, propping herself up on her elbows. She waves vaguely at the TV. “That. A mom and a dad and… a traditional, normal family?”
Jeff snorts, “As a guy who’s friends with some of the busiest divorce attorneys in the state? I can tell you that that? Is no longer normal. And if it does exist out there, it’s an anomaly.”
Annie frowns.
“Besides, it’s boring. Who wants boring and happy and monogamous? Ugh. No thanks.”
“You don’t want to get married? Have a family? At all?”
Her words make his chest feel all tingly, or some completely girly bullshit like that, and he tries his best to ignore it, eyes her to figure out if she asking for personal reasons. But she twirling her hair absentmindedly and staring at the television. When he doesn’t answer right away she looks over at him, notes his expression and rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t mean…Just in general.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, “I’m not really a one woman type of guy.”
“Clearly.”
Jeff narrows his eyes but her lips are turned up into a bit of a smirk and he realizes she’s not trying to pass judgment on him or anything. He smiles and puts a little pressure on her ankle until she turns and looks at him.
“I kind of like the family we have now. I don’t need that to change.”
Her eyes soften and search him for a moment before a huge smile spreads across her face and suddenly she’s launching herself forward and throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh Jeff!”
It catches him by surprise and she just kind of hangs there, around him, until he laughs and his arms circle around her to hug her back. Her forehead rests against his neck and she doesn’t pull away right away.
“I’m a little dizzy,” she finally whispers.
Jeff laughs again as his hands smooth gently down her back. “That’s what happens when you drink an entire bottle of wine.”
“I didn’t drink it by myself,” she says a little petulantly and moves back slightly, her arms still around his neck. They smile softly at each other and Jeff’s just about come to awareness of their positions, the way she’s practically laying on him, chest pressed against his, when she gasps and pulls away.
“Cookies!”
She scrambles up from the couch and runs into the kitchen.
Jeff groans, his head dropping back. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”
Annie bounds back in and curls up next to him on the couch, knees tucked under her. She presents him with a plate of cookies and he eyes it in confusion. “What is that?”
“Well. I made cookies to represent the things we believe in.” She points to a sugar cookie dreidel.
“And this is?” Jeff holds up a rectangular cookie decorated with elaborate green frosting.
Annie beams proudly, “Money.”
“Um.”
“It represents your devotion to the superficial world: expensive clothes, nice cars, a self-image bordering on idolatry. I was going to make a mirror. But I couldn’t get the frosting shiny enough.” She takes a bite of a menorah shaped cookie, her eyes practically twinkling with a teasing merriment.
He cocks his head to the side and squints down at the cookie. “Wow. An edible representation of my awesomeness.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you would see it that way.”
“I am impressed, although not surprised, at the effort. You drew a portrait of Ben Franklin out of icing.”
“It’s actually George Washington. I only had dollar bills in my purse to model it after.”
He shakes his head and takes a large bite just as his phone chirps from the coffee table with a new text message. Annie’s phone sounds only moments later from the kitchen.
It’s from Troy.
“Pierce’s house. Xmas party. Alcohol.”
Annie’s brow knits together in an expression of skepticism and Jeff looks up from the phone, eyes widening in agreement. “Potential for disaster right?”
She nods slowly. They both take another bite of their cookies, thinking.
After a long moment they glance sideways at each other. Jeff’s mouth twists up mischievously.
“Want to go?”
Annie grins, and nods.
Part II
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through 2.11
Word Count: 5130
Disclaimer: Yeah, still don't own it. Bummer.
Description: Annie and Jeff spend Christmas Day together.
Author’s Note: I wanted to get this entire thing up before Christmas but it’s just not going to happen. I hope to have the second part posted by the end of the year though.
“A Christmas Story” is referenced a bunch throughout this chapter. Apologies to those who haven’t seen it.
Muchas gracias to 0penhearts for the beta and helping to course correct some issues. I bow to her genius as always.
~*~*~
The day starts badly.
Jeff is curled into the warmth of his couch, face buried in a pillow, when three short, high-pitched screeches of the fire alarm startle him awake with a jerk.
He stares at the ceiling in confusion for a second, then groans and rolls up and off the couch, blindly stumbling toward the door as the alarm continues to wail away. A brief glance at the clock under the silently flickering television tells him that it’s only 5:30 am.
“Fuuu….”
It’s the fourth time in as many days that some genius asshole has pulled the alarm and sent the residents of the building running outside in a panic to pre-dawn freezing temperatures, and despite the fact that Jeff is (in his humblest opinion) a kick-ass defense attorney, he’s decided to make it his new life goal to prosecute the hell out of the perpetrator, if ever found.
Even if it’s the mildly attractive cougar from downstairs that flirts with him in the laundry room. Or sweet old Mrs. Bradshaw from across the hall. Justice will be served.
Because this? Is seriously cutting into his valuable hangover sleep-off time.
Somehow, in the midst of bleariness and rage, he manages to shove his feet into a pair of boots and bundle himself in a jacket before slamming the door as hard as possible behind him and stalking toward the parking lot where a fire truck is pulling in, lights flashing.
Jeff gives a gruff nod to his neighbor from down the hall, an exhausted looking man with graying hair who is arguing with his son while struggling to hold another, sound-asleep, child on one hip.
“Zach, just put on the mittens.”
“I. DON’T. WANNA!”
It’s hard to say what’s worse: The fire alarm or the whiny shouts of a spoiled child. Or maybe the sound of his downstairs neighbors as they argue nearby in a language he spent two semesters NOT learning. Either way, Jeff spends the next fifteen minutes leaning against his car, the throbbing in his head getting increasingly more painful.
By the time a cheery fireman allows them back into the building Jeff’s temper has about reached its boiling point and it’s not until he’s rooting through the medicine cabinet for Advil that he even remembers it’s Christmas Day.
~*~*~
Annie frowns in contemplation at the variety of sparkling sugar sprinkles in front of her, finally settling on a light blue, a green and a pink that she drops one by one into her basket.
The grocery store is quiet in the early Christmas morning, The Beach Boys’ “Little Saint Nick” playing merrily through the sound system. Annie hums along involuntarily as she picks up a few more supplies and crosses off the final items from the list in her hand.
With a satisfied nod she starts back up the aisle toward the registers but stops short as someone in a black pea coat strides past, headed in the direction of the pharmacy. It’s a familiar certain someone and for a second Annie thinks she’s hallucinated it.
When she gets to the end of the aisle she peaks around the end cap but doesn’t see anyone. Feeling foolish, she looks behind her, then follows in the direction he was walking. She casually strolls up the aisles, looking briefly down each one and not seeing him, or anyone for that matter, until she reaches the health care section.
Jeff’s about hallway up the aisle, blinking tiredly at the numerous selection of headache remedies.
Annie freezes for a second, then sort of stutters around in place, her fight or flight instincts waging a battle inside her head. She should go over and say hi - it’s Jeff, it’s Christmas. But then again, it’s Jeff and it’s Christmas and she doesn’t want to have to explain to him that she’s spending the biggest holiday of the year alone when he’s probably got a dozen parties to attend and women to sleep with and… whatever it is that Jeff does when he’s not at Greendale.
And then he notices her.
“Annie?”
She looks up at him, trapped. “Jeff!” In the quiet of the store her voice sounds way too loud to her own ears.
He squints at her, “What are you doing?”
“Umm.” Shake it off. Shake it off. She pulls up her shoulders and walks toward him with an air of nonchalance, swinging her basket. “Just, you know… what are you doing?”
He shakes a box of Advil in answer.
“Oh. Another stress headache?”
Jeff’s eyes widen a little and he inhales through his nose, lips pursed, “Something like that.” He sets the box down and picks up something with extra strength.
“You know, sometimes caffeine helps.”
“I’ve had about three cups of coffee already.”
“Oh. Or I’ve heard that dark chocolate works? Something about releasing endorphins…” Her words trail off weakly as he doesn’t even seem to be paying her any attention.
Annie frowns. He’s all hard edges and ill temperedness today; the allowances he usually makes for her aren’t there. She should just leave him to wallow in his own sulkiness. But.
“So! Do you think Abed’s still seeing everything in stop-motion?”
“Well. He left me a voicemail the other day and it turned into a song halfway through so yeah, I’d say yes. Either that or he’s now living the nightmarish unreality of an episode of Glee.”
“Oh, that would be fun.”
He levels a full-on glare at her, “You even consider putting that idea in his head and I WILL make sure you’re the one singing a duet with Pierce.” An evil glint shines in his eyes as he hums and looks up, “Maybe a power ballad. Something by Chicago?”
“Oh stop. Admit it Jeff, you enjoyed the singing,” she giggles.
“Lies.” But he gives a crooked little smile at the box he’s holding and Annie considers it a minor success. She gives herself a mental pat on the back.
Jeff finally seems satisfied with his choice and looks over at her, almost as if actually noticing her for the first time. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“What?” She backs up a little before spinning around and letting him fall into step with her. They begin to make their way toward the front of the store.
“It’s Christmas.”
“Well it’s not exactly for me. My mom’s working and my dad’s on a cruise with my step-mom. I’m just trying to keep busy.” The false cheeriness she injects into her words makes Jeff pause.
He peers down into her basket, “Keeping busy how?”
“Oh. Um.” She curls the basket behind her back. “Nothing.”
Her apparent embarrassment peaks his curiosity as he tries to glance around her. “If you’ll recall, I don’t have my license right now so if there’s duct tape and chloroform in there and you get caught at whatever nefarious activity you’re currently up to, I won’t be able to help you.”
“Jeff!” She looks around furtively and then sighs and holds the basket up. “I’m making Christmas cookies.”
At his raised eyebrow she continues, “It’s kind of a tradition. Before the divorce we used to do a bunch of baking together as a family. And then after… my mom just didn’t want to anymore.” She shrugs, “So I do it by myself.”
Jeff nods slowly but doesn’t say anything as they head toward the only open register and Annie sets the basket on the conveyor belt.
“You’re not spending Christmas with your mom?”
“Nope.” He doesn’t offer any further information as he begins to leaf through the year-end issue of People. His nose scrunches up as he changes the subject, “Ugh, I never agree with these ‘Best of’ lists.”
The cashier smiles widely at them. She’s wearing a pair of reindeer antlers with bells that jingle every time she moves.
“Merry Christmas dears!”
Annie smiles in response.
“Did you hear it’s supposed to snow tonight? I hope it does. I just love a good white Christmas. It just seems so much more festive you know? Just like the movies. Like that one with Jimmy Stewart. Oh. That man was dreamy wasn’t he? They just don’t make ‘em like that used to. Except that George Clooney fellow. Now he’s a charmer isn’t he? My, my….” She continues to prattle on as she scans Annie’s purchases.
Annie sneaks a sideways glance at Jeff whose eyes are practically glazed over with disinterest. She feels a strange tide of desperation well inside of her like she’s about to lose her already tenuous grasp on holiday cheer.
She’s not sure why it’s so important. Jeff has every right to be a scroogey little grinch but it’s Christmas. And maybe that didn’t actually mean anything to him but everyone's entitled to some cheer, right?
The cashier offers them a final merry “Ho! Ho! Ho!” as they walk away and Annie giggles as she leans into Jeff’s personal space and whispers, “Someone’s a little too into the holiday, right?” She adds a pinch of disdain to her words for good measure.
Jeff looks back. “I hadn’t noticed,” he grumbles sarcastically.
Annie opens her mouth but he’s already turning toward his car with a half-hearted wave. “See you Annie.”
“Merry Christmas Jeff!” she calls after him and then stands there for a full minute, her bags held in each hand, lips pursed in thought.
~*~*~
There’s a knock on his door an hour later.
From his position on the couch Jeff rolls his head to the side and sighs dramatically. It’s almost another minute and two more knocks later when he finally turns the deadbolt, hoping it’s only Mrs. Bradshaw needing a pickle jar opened.
It’s not until he’s already opening the door that he remembers Mrs. Bradshaw is in Arizona visiting her grandchildren for the holiday and it’s Annie beaming up at him from the doorway, bundled up in a huge knee-length purple parka. Her arms are laden down with about twenty recyclable grocery bags of something Jeff obviously wants nothing to do with.
“What are you doing?”
“My heater’s out?”
“Your heater’s out,” he parrots back. “That sounds suspiciously like a question. And the answer’s no, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
She ignores him and pushes past, heaving her bags of crap toward the kitchen.
“Annie. Seriously.” He shuts the door with a sigh and follows after, watching her warily from the hallway as she takes stock of the space and finally dumps all her stuff on the counter. A pile of his mail get pushed aside and a couple unopened bills fall heavy to the floor.
Annie pulls off her hat and faces him determinedly, her hair sticking out statically in a halo around her head before she carefully pats it back down into place.
“Well! You’re alone. And I’m alone and that’s silly. We’re supposed to be with people we… friends and family today. Remember?” She gives him a chirpy smile.
“Maybe. But.” He points to her, “Jewish.” He points to himself, “Don’t care.” Raises an eyebrow. “Remember?”
She only clucks her tongue at him and turns to start pulling things out of her bags.
“What is all this crap?”
“I’m making Christmas cookies. I thought I explained this already.”
“Yeah. You did. I just assumed that this display of weird Jewish Girl Christmas Envy was going to be taking place somewhere that is NOT my apartment.”
Annie spins and trains her wide blue eyes on him. “Jeff. Please.” And then her lips are about three seconds away from a full-on pout.
A muscle twitches in his jaw as a string of curse words dance at the tip of his tongue. “Whatever. Just clean up after yourself.” He turns away before the full affect of her smile can hit him.
~*~*~
Ten minutes later he stalks back in.
“The oven’s broken.”
“What?” Annie looks up from… THE HELL? Is she organizing his pantry?
Ignoring it. Ignoring it. He fiddles with a couple of knobs above the stove.
“Not broken broken. You just have to bake everything 50 degrees lower than normal. And not be using the stove at the same time.”
When he turns back around they watch each other for a moment until he sighs and walks out.
“Thank you!” she calls after him.
He doesn’t respond.
~*~*~
Fifteen minutes later, as she’s stirring the last of the ingredients together, he’s back, pulling a bag of Chex-Mix from the pantry. She’s concentrating on her task and barely even notices as he reaches over her head to pull a bowl from the cabinet until he pauses next to her, sneaks a hand into the mixing bowl and snags a tiny piece of dough.
She smacks his hand, “Jeff! There’s raw egg in that!”
He rolls his eyes and pops it into his mouth. “Hmm.”
“You’re going to get sick.”
“Unlikely.” He pours himself a generous bowl of Chex-Mix. “Your mom never let you have cookie dough when you were younger?”
“No. Because it’s bad for you,” she says all breathy and scandalized.
“Yeah,” he mock gasps, “So now this is your chance to live on the wild side.” And before she even has a chance to respond he’s reached out and stolen another piece of dough.
“Jeff!”
He looks down at her, amused, index finger pressed against his lips.
“Ugh, fine. Enjoy your food poisoning.”
“Enjoy your boring antibacterial life!” he calls back at her as he leaves the kitchen again.
Annie frowns into the mixing bowl, curiosity and challenge tingling at her senses. She’s never done any definitive research on the subject but a small amount couldn’t hurt. Right?
Experimentally, she fingers off a small piece of dough and pops it in her mouth, bracing herself for the onslaught of disease and bacteria and other horrid possibilities but as it melts over her tongue into coarse sugary sweetness she realizes that once again, Jeff was probably, maybe, right. Dammit.
“Was that good for you?”
She gasps and spins around. He’s leaning in the doorway, smirking.
A strangled sound of annoyance rips up from her throat as she whips a hand towel at him. “Get out!”
His shoulders shake with silent laughter as he pushes away from the door frame and pivots back around toward the living room but he shoots her an almost gleeful grin before he leaves and she can’t help but smile back with only a little exasperation.
~*~*~
Ten minutes later he’s back.
“I thought you were watching a movie.”
“I am,” he mutters distractedly as he rummages through the pantry.
Annie watches him in amusement as he emerges with a bottle of wine. “You’re just like the kids I used to baby-sit.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t sit still.” She laughs. “It’s cute.” As the words leave her mouth she flushes and goes intently about her task again, but putting too much weight into the rolling pin and scowling when the dough tears under her ministrations.
Jeff grins to himself and pulls two glasses out of the cabinet. “Cute. That’s not what my mom used to call it.”
Annie imagines a younger, trouble-making Jeff, bouncing around in restlessness and distraction, driving his mom and teachers insane. She has to bite her lip to keep from smiling too brightly at the picture.
“You’re not like this at school.”
“Annie. It’s Greendale.” He widens his eyes at her because duuuuuh, she should know this already. “That place sucks the life out of me and destroys my will to live. I have to use all my energy just to make it through the day without sticking my head in the cafeteria frying vat.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh really? Has Dean Pelton ever tired molesting you with his eyes?” He thinks about it as he sets a glass of red wine down on the counter in front of her. “Or his hands?”
Annie stares at the wine glass for a second and almost says something but Jeff’s leaned back against the counter next to her and is staring out the window, his face contorted as he seemingly recounts in his head the numerous disturbing run-ins with their very own Dean Dangerous.
She brushes a strand of hair out of her face and picks up the glass delicately from the stem, takes a tentative sip. The red wine smacks at her taste buds and the corners of her jaw twitch at the sudden bitterness.
When she looks up Jeff is watching her intently.
“What?”
He starts, almost as if he’s going to lean toward her, then changes his mind and pulls away from the counter, “You have flour on your forehead,” he mutters as he leaves.
Annie quickly wipes at her face with the back of her hand, watching the place where he disappeared from as she takes a too large gulp of wine and shudders.
~*~*~
When she drops down next to him on the couch ten minutes later he’s got his feet propped up on the coffee table, the wine glass and bowl of Chex Mix balanced precariously on the arm rest. On-screen the credits are flickering by as a group of children stand in awe at the window of a toy shop.
“The cookies are in the oven,” she says by way of explanation to the question he didn’t ask. “What are you watching?”
“A Christmas Story.” He pops a pretzel in his mouth.
“I’ve never seen it.”
As this he rolls his head toward her, eyebrow quirking upwards in incredulity, “How is that even possible? It’s on ALL day every Christmas.”
Annie shrugs, “I don’t know. I always thought it looked weird.”
“Wow. I never would have pegged you as an elitist. Shame. On. You.”
Her mouth drops open as she shoves at his shoulder. “Shut up. I am not.”
“Hey, hey.” Jeff grabs his wine glass before it slides off the couch. “You break it, you buy it.” But he’s laughing.
Annie relaxes back against the cushions, mirroring his position with her arms folded over her chest, “Fine. I’m watching it. Happy?”
Jeff shrugs, but as he tilts a sip of wine into his mouth she hears him murmur a sing-songy “Elitist,” into his glass.
She only glares at the television in response.
A few minutes later she pops up to take a batch of cookies out of the oven but when she comes back she has her wine glass in her hand and she notices that Jeff’s settled the bowl of Chex Mix into the spot between them to share.
They watch the movie in companionable silence, Jeff murmuring along with the lines he knows by heart, and looking over to watch her response to certain scenes. Annie jumps up every now and again to rotate cookies in and out of the oven but she accidentally burns the last batch after getting too into the scene where the leg lamp arrives.
At some point she kicks her shoes off and Jeff find himself distracted by the design on her socks: a snowman wearing a top hat, using a pair of candy canes as skis.
“Those are ridiculous.”
“They’re festive,” she pouts and pokes his calf with her toe without taking her eyes off the screen.
“You’re one step away from a holiday sweater with a working, light-up, reindeer nose.”
“Elitist,” she says mockingly back.
By the time the credits roll an hour later, Annie’s curled up comfortably into the other corner of the couch, her feet tucked under her, her elbow propped up on the arm rest. Jeff turns toward her with a smile, “So? Did that live up to your astonishingly high standards?”
She’s quiet but when she finally looks up he’s startled to see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. The smile slides of his face.
“Annie?”
She sniffs and uncurls herself, hopping off the couch and waving her hands in front of her face, “It’s nothing. Nothing I… I should finish the cookies.” And with that she scurries off toward the kitchen without another word.
~*~*~
Half an hour or so later he wanders in, shoots her a wary glance and starts rooting through a drawer near the sink.
“You want Chinese?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s the only place open right now that delivers. Yes, there’s food in the fridge, I’m not a completely helpless person but it’s Christmas and I’m not cooking. Besides, it looks like Santa’s Village threw up in here and I’m not in the mood to maneuver around, that.” He glances over her shoulder, “Actually… what ARE you doing? Those don’t look like Christmas decorations.”
“You’ll see.” She waves her hand at him in a vague “go away” gesture.
“I’m sorry. Did you just shoo me?”
Annie looks up, then down at her hand as if it had acted of it’s own accord. “Oh. Um.”
“UM. My kitchen.”
There’s a little something playful in his tone that makes Annie pause. Her eyes flash with sudden boldness. “My cookies.”
“That are currently being assembled in my rent-paid apartment.”
She scoffs, “Rent paid?”
Jeff’s mouth twitches up into a smile. “I’m only a month behind.”
“Ha!”
“Ha, nothing Ms. Righteous Indignation. Possession is 9/10ths of the law and the last time I checked, YOU didn’t live here.”
“Well.” She pulls her shoulders up. “Then I invoke my right to privacy. This is still America right?”
Jeff’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. For a moment he pretends to ponder her words.
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Britta.” He steps closer but Annie spins around, a spoon of green frosting held defensively in her hand.
“That’s a really nice sweater you’re wearing, Jeff.”
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”
“I WOULD.” She tosses her hair back and points her chin out haughtily, kind of waves the spoon in his direction.
Jeff ‘s brain flashes through a succession of memories: his head being slammed against a table, her fist coming into contact with his nose. It’s probably best not to test her.
But then again. A riled up Annie is a fun Annie.
He steps in closer.
“Jeff.”
“Annie.”
She stands her ground even as pink flowers up into her cheeks.
Jeff’s smile widens as he looms over her, a hand coming to rest on the counter behind her. She swallows, some of her resolution faltering as he snakes his other hand between them, plucks the spoon from her grasp and shoves it into his mouth.
“Ffanks,” he says over a mouthful of frosting.
Annie’s nose scrunches up, even as she lets out a shaky laugh. “Jeff. Gross.”
He pulls the spoon from his mouth, scraping the back of it with his teeth. “Oh what? You weren’t allowed to have frosting as a kid either?”
She sighs loudly and turns back around to pull another spoon from the drawer. “Did you say something about Chinese?”
Jeff finishes licking the spoon and drops it in the sink, having already forgotten exactly what they were fighting over. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and Annie goes back to the task at hand of carefully icing each (apparently un-Christmasy) cookie.
“Yeah, I’d like to place an order for delivery… Okay. Do you have duck?”
Annie scrunches up her nose in his direction. He meets her eyes and grins.
“You do? Great. Oh. No, we’re going to need the entire duck.”
Her eyes widen and she drops her spoon. “Jeff! What are you doing?”
“You can?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Well let me ask you this: is there any way we can get that with the head still intact?”
“Oh my god. Stop,” Annie laughs out, tugging on his arm. Jeff twists away from her.
“Why? You want to know why we need the head?” He exhales dramatically, “It’s for my girlfriend. She likes to see the faces of things before she eats them.”
Annie gasps, continuing to pull on his arm, but half-heartedly as her body shakes with laughter. Jeff looks away from her and up at the ceiling.
“It’s a weird fetish she has.”
“I. DO NOT. HAVE. A…fetish.” Her face sort of twists up as if the word leaves a bad taste on her tongue.
“Oh, and if you guys have a meat cleaver we could borrow that would be great too.”
“Jeff!” Annie jumps up onto her toes and manages to pull the phone down to her ear, practically hanging all her weight on his arm. He’s still holding onto it as she practically shouts into the receiver, “He’s kidding! Kidding. Just don’t… I’m so sorry!”
An annoyed female voice barks out, “Don’t call here again!” and then there’s a click as the call’s disconnected. Annie looks up at Jeff as she lets go of his arm and smacks his chest a couple times.
“What is wrong with you?!” But her words are choked out between giggles.
“Hey! I didn’t get to ask her if they could send along some carol singers.”
“You’re horrible.”
“Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra.” Jeff wheezes out as he continues laughing.
~*~*~
The finally manage to call and order dinner and the food arrives just as Annie finishes decorating the last of the cookies. She joins Jeff on the couch again, sitting cross-legged as they pass cartons of chow mien and orange chicken and crispy beef back and forth until they’re both full. At some point Jeff gets up and brings back the wine from the kitchen, refilling both their glasses until the bottle’s empty.
By the time the movie ends again they’re both pleasantly buzzed and Annie’s stretched out along the couch, her feet in Jeff’s lap. She’s bopping her head along to the song playing over a department store commercial and he watches her, one hand at her ankle, tilting it back and forth like a metronome to the beat of the music.
“Do you think that’s still possible?” she asks suddenly.
“Hmmm?”
Annie struggles to sit up, propping herself up on her elbows. She waves vaguely at the TV. “That. A mom and a dad and… a traditional, normal family?”
Jeff snorts, “As a guy who’s friends with some of the busiest divorce attorneys in the state? I can tell you that that? Is no longer normal. And if it does exist out there, it’s an anomaly.”
Annie frowns.
“Besides, it’s boring. Who wants boring and happy and monogamous? Ugh. No thanks.”
“You don’t want to get married? Have a family? At all?”
Her words make his chest feel all tingly, or some completely girly bullshit like that, and he tries his best to ignore it, eyes her to figure out if she asking for personal reasons. But she twirling her hair absentmindedly and staring at the television. When he doesn’t answer right away she looks over at him, notes his expression and rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t mean…Just in general.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, “I’m not really a one woman type of guy.”
“Clearly.”
Jeff narrows his eyes but her lips are turned up into a bit of a smirk and he realizes she’s not trying to pass judgment on him or anything. He smiles and puts a little pressure on her ankle until she turns and looks at him.
“I kind of like the family we have now. I don’t need that to change.”
Her eyes soften and search him for a moment before a huge smile spreads across her face and suddenly she’s launching herself forward and throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh Jeff!”
It catches him by surprise and she just kind of hangs there, around him, until he laughs and his arms circle around her to hug her back. Her forehead rests against his neck and she doesn’t pull away right away.
“I’m a little dizzy,” she finally whispers.
Jeff laughs again as his hands smooth gently down her back. “That’s what happens when you drink an entire bottle of wine.”
“I didn’t drink it by myself,” she says a little petulantly and moves back slightly, her arms still around his neck. They smile softly at each other and Jeff’s just about come to awareness of their positions, the way she’s practically laying on him, chest pressed against his, when she gasps and pulls away.
“Cookies!”
She scrambles up from the couch and runs into the kitchen.
Jeff groans, his head dropping back. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”
Annie bounds back in and curls up next to him on the couch, knees tucked under her. She presents him with a plate of cookies and he eyes it in confusion. “What is that?”
“Well. I made cookies to represent the things we believe in.” She points to a sugar cookie dreidel.
“And this is?” Jeff holds up a rectangular cookie decorated with elaborate green frosting.
Annie beams proudly, “Money.”
“Um.”
“It represents your devotion to the superficial world: expensive clothes, nice cars, a self-image bordering on idolatry. I was going to make a mirror. But I couldn’t get the frosting shiny enough.” She takes a bite of a menorah shaped cookie, her eyes practically twinkling with a teasing merriment.
He cocks his head to the side and squints down at the cookie. “Wow. An edible representation of my awesomeness.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you would see it that way.”
“I am impressed, although not surprised, at the effort. You drew a portrait of Ben Franklin out of icing.”
“It’s actually George Washington. I only had dollar bills in my purse to model it after.”
He shakes his head and takes a large bite just as his phone chirps from the coffee table with a new text message. Annie’s phone sounds only moments later from the kitchen.
It’s from Troy.
“Pierce’s house. Xmas party. Alcohol.”
Annie’s brow knits together in an expression of skepticism and Jeff looks up from the phone, eyes widening in agreement. “Potential for disaster right?”
She nods slowly. They both take another bite of their cookies, thinking.
After a long moment they glance sideways at each other. Jeff’s mouth twists up mischievously.
“Want to go?”
Annie grins, and nods.
Part II