guess what we'll discover (4/11)
Pairing: Jeff/Annie
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 4229
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Description: Jeff gets a new roommate
Author’s Note: Okay, I absolutely did not mean for it to take so long to update this. But there was a pesky writer's block issue that I hope I'm over now. As always, my eternal gratitude to 0penhearts for the beta and the demands to keep writing.
Previous chapters
~*~*~
They fall into a routine.
On weekdays, Annie’s usually gone by the time Jeff gets out of the shower but there’s always a pot of hot coffee waiting, along with a cheerful post-it note telling him to Have a good day!!! in her neat cursive. The first few mornings he just crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash but each day, without fail, a new one appears, sometimes with a different message like, Happy Friday!!! or Tengo un buen dia!!! And he’d be lying if he said they didn’t occasionally make him smile.
He stops throwing them away and starts sticking them to random spots on the fridge so that soon it’s covered with fluorescent post-its in various shades that flutter whenever the door’s opened or closed.
Most nights Annie gets home from work first and when she makes dinner for herself she always makes a little extra. Jeff straggles in at different hours but if she’s not doing anything else she’ll sit at the counter and keep him company while he warms up his food and tells her stories about Alan and the guys at work. Or, on the rare occasions that Jeff gets home first, he’ll make dinner and Annie is somehow surprised to learn that he’s a really good cook.
When she asks him about it he mumbles something about growing up with a single mom, but doesn’t elaborate. Annie doesn’t press for more details.
And then there are the days when they’re both hanging around the apartment - late at night or on the weekends - and Jeff will stretch out on the couch watching whatever bad reality show the E! Channel is currently running on marathon and Annie will curl up in the armchair with a book from her self-imposed Summer Reading List and they’ll go hours without saying anything.
But sometimes, a stray comment will go down the rabbit hole of random conversation about anything - Jeff lying reclined on the floor after doing pushups, Annie sitting at the counter with her laptop; or him leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom while she perches on the edge of the tub painting her toenails and explaining the finer points of her hair care regimen.
(And for the record, she’s never allowed to call him vain, ever again.)
~*~*~
It’s an early Saturday night when Jeff walks into the kitchen to find almost the entire counter covered in bowls of food - sliced olives and mushrooms, green peppers, tomatoes, onions, pineapple, grated cheese - and Annie rolling out store-bought pizza dough onto a cookie sheet.
“Throwing a party?” Jeff pops an olive into his mouth and leans against the counter.
“Abed’s coming over for movie night.” She looks up at him, concerned. “I thought you had a date. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“No. That’s cool,” he answers slowly. “Movie night?”
“Mmmhmm. Normally Troy and I are in charge of the food and Abed brings the movies. He usually picks some kind of theme like ‘bank robberies’ or ‘Will Smith saves the world.’” Annie wrinkles her nose up at this last one. “Last time it was ‘road trip.’ We watched The Sure Thing and Thelma and Louise.”
“Huh.”
At the sharp tone in his voice, Annie smirks and eyes him knowingly. “We invite you all the time and you always have something better to do.”
Jeff hikes his guard up, all the way. “Whatever.” He opens the fridge door, realizes he doesn’t want anything in there and then shuts it again. “Did you think I cared? Cause I don’t.”
“Please,” she retorts, throwing a slice of green pepper at him. It bounces harmlessly off his shoulder and lands on the floor.
“Hey! Watch it. This is a clean shirt.”
Annie’s gaze slides down his body, taking in the dark blue button-down and jeans he’s wearing. “You look nice,” she says casually as she sticks the sheet of pizza dough in the oven. “What was her name again?”
“Stephanie.”
“Does she spell it with a ‘q-u’?” she asks, not a little snidely, as she starts slicing more tomatoes. “Where are you taking her?”
Under absolutely no circumstances does he want or need to talk about his dating life with Annie, but he’s not an idiot to sense that there’s some underlying jealousy going on here, right? “Um. That Italian place on First.”
“Great!”
Yep. Her voice is laced with a false, high-pitched, cheeriness and Jeff feels a stupidly warm sensation spreading across his chest. He can’t help but grin now as he starts to walk out of the kitchen, but Annie continues, “You should invite her to your birthday party.”
Hold up.
He takes two large steps backwards and spins to face her. “Annie.”
“What?” She looks at him, her eyes wide.
“What did I tell you?”
“Oh, come on Jeff. It’s your birthday!”
“Exactly. Which means that I get to celebrate any way I choose. Including, choosing not to celebrate.”
“But-”
“Trust me. One of these days you’ll understand. The novelty of a birthday wears off sometime after twenty-five.”
“That doesn’t have to be true. You can make it novel. With a party. And your friends. And we want to celebrate with you.”
“Annie.” Jeff holds up his hand. “This isn’t a fight you’re going to win.” Annie doesn’t say anything, just looks up at the ceiling with a huff. “Okay? Promise me. No birthday cake. No streamers. No stupid party hats. No singing telegrams.”
“Are singing telegrams actually a thing outside of movies? Because I’ve never-”
“Annie.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I guess I’ll call and cancel the bouncy castle,” she sighs loudly.
Jeff arches an eyebrow. “That better be sarcasm.”
“Oh. You still want the bouncy castle?” She grins.
He points at her, backing out of the kitchen again. “No clowns either.”
“Ew.”
“Or balloon animal makers. Or cotton candy machines. Or piñatas.”
“Party pooper!” She yells at him as he retreats into his room.
~*~*~
Stephanie is a leggy redhead that laughs at all his jokes while suggestively trailing her perfectly manicured fingers down the stem of her wine glass and it’s all absolutely working for him, but about halfway through dinner Jeff realizes that he’s been spending most of the evening wishing that he was back in his apartment watching movies with Annie and Abed.
~*~*~*~
Annie hiccups and grabs another tissue from the box on the coffee table. She blows her nose and leans back into Abed’s shoulder.
“Abed, this movie was terrible. Why’d you pick it?”
“I thought you’d like it.”
“Why?!”
He frowns. “Normally, I don’t like these kinds of movies because I can see through the cheap emotional manipulation. But you’re a highly emotional person and-”
“I’m not highly emotional.” Annie pulls away.
“It’s not a criticism. You wouldn’t be Annie if you weren’t.”
She contemplates his words, still looking unsure as to whether or not she’s been insulted. Her entire head feels swollen and achy from crying. They’ve just finished watching Marley and Me and the chosen theme for the night - “tear jerkers” - is living up to its name.
“Okay. Maybe I occasionally display my feelings in an emotional-type way. But I prefer to think of myself as expressive. And that doesn’t mean that I like crying. Or like watching a movie that makes me cry so hard I go through a box of tissues.”
“What about The Notebook? You like The Notebook.”
“That’s different. That’s romantic.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Abed reaches over the arm of the sofa and grabs a notepad out of his bag, jotting something down while Annie watches, perplexed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve decided that my film lacks an emotional core. Explosions and special effects bring in the big bucks, but an audience needs a reason to care. That’s why summer blockbusters don’t win Oscars.”
“Soooooo, you’re trying to figure out what makes people cry?”
“Exactly.”
“Wait.” Annie’s eyes narrow. “Did you pick this movie so you could do some kind of study on me? Because I’m highly emotional?”
Abed’s eyes shift away. “No. Yes. Sorry.”
“Abed!”
“But I would have hung out with you anyway.”
“Okay...” Annie trails off, biting her bottom lip and trying not to feel hurt because she likes this time she gets to spend with him and she had been elated when he and Troy started inviting her to hang out more. “Well, at least warn me next time.”
“Gotcha.” He finishes writing something and then flips the notebook closed and gets up to put in another movie. Annie hugs a pillow to her chest, her eyes tracing his movement across the room.
“Have you talked to Troy lately?”
“We video chat every morning while we eat breakfast. Unless his mom is around. She’s not a big fan of technology.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Of course,” he answers immediately as he sits back down.
“Why?”
“Because.” Abed pauses, like he hadn’t even considered needing a reason. “He’s my best friend.”
Annie’s surprised at the wave of feelings that sweeps over her. She wonders if she’ll ever be so unflinchingly certain about something. Or someone.
It takes her a moment to choke it back but she smiles softly as she curls her legs up onto the couch and rests her head against his arm. She reaches for his hand. “You know, you don’t have to study other people to figure out what makes someone emotional. You understand it better than you think you do.”
Abed looks a little startled as he stares down at their entwined fingers. He doesn’t say anything but he squeezes her hand in his, ever so slightly.
“So, what’s next?”
“My Girl.”
Annie sighs, “I’m going to need more tissue.”
~*~*~
It’s late, past midnight, when Jeff’s keying into the apartment, wondering idly if Annie’s still awake. She usually stays up later on the weekends and there’s a marathon of Real Housewives on the DVR and a pint of ice cream in the fridge that he wouldn’t mind putting a dent in.
The television’s still flickering quietly as he opens the door. “Hey,” he starts, but then immediately falls silent, frozen in the doorway, as he realizes that Annie’s not alone, or awake. She and Abed are curled up on the couch, her head resting on his chest, his arm slung around her shoulders. They are both sound asleep. Jeff stares, his hand clenching around his keys painfully before kicking the door shut behind him with more force than necessary.
The pair on the couch jerk awake, blinking in surprise.
“Oh sorry. Did I wake you?” He asks, in a less than apologetic voice, striding toward the kitchen.
“Hmm?” Annie rubs at her eyes and stretches her legs out with a creaky groan. “We fell asleep.”
“Clearly.”
Abed yawns loudly, untangling himself and shifting to sit at the edge of the couch to put his shoes on. “I should go.”
“You can stay if you want. It’s really late.” Annie’s voice is a little husky, groggy with sleep and in the kitchen Jeff slams his glass down a little too hard.
“Nah. My dad doesn’t like it when I don’t come home.”
Annie nods, without questioning it, and then lets Abed pull her up so she can walk him to the door. She leans into him and wraps her arms around him in a hug, murmering a "goodnight" into his shoulder.
Abed pats her back, sends Jeff a halfhearted wave, and leaves.
Annie peers toward Jeff sleepily, “There’s leftover pizza in the fridge, if you want some.”
“Great.”
She misses the irritated growl in his voice and throws him a soft smile as she heads into the bathroom. Jeff leans his forearms on the counter, a glass of water held between his hands. He’s not completely sure what he just walked in on but it felt…intimate, and a part of him would have rather just caught them having sex on the couch because at least that, that he would understand.
He thinks abut hanging out at the bar with her the other night, the way she leaned into him as she laughed, the careless way she’d curl her hand around his arm, the warm press of her body against his when they fell in the pool, and he thought -
Fuck, he doesn’t know what he thought.
When she comes out of the bathroom in her PJ’s a few minutes later Jeff starts in without pretense because whatever, it’s late and as her roommate he should at least have the facts straight, right?
“So. You and Abed.”
“Me and Abed, what?”
Jeff widens his eyes and gestures toward the couch. Annie shakes her head, still looking confused. “I don’t know-”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Oh. Nothing, Jeff. We’re friends.”
“Friends who cuddle?”
“Maybe.”
“And make out.”
She glares at him, clearly annoyed. “That was once. A year ago. Besides, you and I made out and it didn’t mean anything.” There’s a challenging bite to her words, followed by a pointed eyebrow raise.
Jeff feels something settle heavy into the pit of his stomach. He tries to swallow it away but it’s just there. The palms of his hands itch as he watches her start to make up the bed on the couch, her stiff movements relaying her irritation.
Hell, he really doesn’t want to fight with her right now. Especially over this.
“So… What was tonight’s movie theme?”
Annie pauses in what she’s doing to glance across the room at him. When their eyes meet, Jeff gives her a lopsided smile, begging her silently to understand that he just wants to let this one go. After a second, her shoulders visibly relax.
“Tearjerkers. We watched Marley and Me and My Girl. It was horrible.”
“Well, that explains the Kleenex all over the floor.”
“Abed told me that I’m highly emotional.”
“He wouldn’t be wrong about that.”
Annie rolls her eyes at him and drops down onto the couch, pulling the blankets over her legs. “So how was your date?”
“Oh. Fine.”
“Are you going to see her again?”
Jeff tilts his glass this way and that, watching the contents slosh back and forth. “Probably not.”
Annie doesn’t seem to have a response to this. She just curls herself up into her pillow with a hum.
“I’ll should let you sleep.”
“M’kay.”
Jeff stands there a minute or so longer, frowning at the counter, before setting his glass in the sink and then moving quietly through the apartment to flick off all the lights and double check that the door is locked. He steals a quick look at her - already asleep again, her mouth parted slightly as she breathes steadily in and out - before he shuts himself in his room. Without changing, he lays on his bed over the covers, flipping through random infomercials before finally falling into a restless sleep a few hours later.
~*~*~
Two days later when Jeff walks into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee the post-it note on the counter reads, “Happy Birthday!” with an accompanying smiley face. He grins and immediately presses it into an empty spot on the fridge.
No one at work knows it’s his birthday, which is good because Alan would have only used it as an excuse to go and get drunk in the middle of the day, and acting like a twenty-one year old frat guy would only have made Jeff feel older and more pathetic. He eats lunch by himself at a corner table at the café down the street but he flirts with the waitress and manages to score some extra fries so he counts it as a success.
Throughout the day he gets four phone calls: one from his mom that’s part a Happy Birthday message and part a why has it been so long since I’ve seen you guilt trip; one from Shirley wishing him a blessed birthday from her and Jesus; one from Troy that starts, “Hey man, just wishing you a good…” and ends, “…random Tuesday in your life” when it’s clear that his mom has just walked into the room; and one from Dean Pelton that… does not need to be repeated.
There’s also a text from Britta saying that she’d call but she’s out of town and doesn’t want to pay for roaming.
He doesn’t hear from Annie all day.
At 4:30, he’s sitting at his desk staring blankly at his computer screen and contemplating cutting out early when suddenly Abed is standing in front of him.
Jeff’s eyes widen as he glances around. “Uh, hey buddy.”
“Hey Jeff.” His head tilts to the side ever so slightly and Jeff can’t help but feel unnerved.
“Did you need something?”
“Oh. I figured that in your state of heightened vulnerability you would be considering leaving early. It’s your birthday, right?”
“Uh. I do not have heightened vulnerability.” Abed’s eyebrows go up in response and Jeff pulls back in his chair a little, perturbed. “How do you --?” But then he cuts himself off, holds up his hand and stands, “Nevermind. Spare me the details. Let’s go.”
~*~*~
They end up at The Ballroom, sitting at a corner booth and Jeff is surprised at how suddenly exhausted he feels sitting there across from his friend.
“Birthdays suck.”
“Only because of our unrealistic expectations.”
“No. I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“Weren’t you?”
Jeff face is blank for a moment before he smiles and leans back, resting one arm over the back of the booth. “Oh this should be good.” He gestures with his other hand for Abed to continue. “Okay. What was I expecting?”
Abed takes a sip of his beer and frowns, “You’re selfish, Jeff.”
“Everybody’s selfish. Mother Teresa was selfish.”
“Maybe. But you know what your problem is?”
“Enlighten me.”
“You don’t know what you want.”
“You know what I want Abed?” Jeff leans forward, “I want to be a lawyer again. I want to not have to work for a guy that shows up wasted to court. I want to live my life without running commentary from my friends.”
Abed looks away and Jeff scrubs his hands over his face, slumping forward in frustration.
“Is it too much to ask that I just stop getting older?”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
Jeff laughs at this and tilts back the rest of his drink. “Maybe you’re right.” At Abed’s inquisitive look he shrugs, “Maybe I don’t know what I want.”
The waitress comes by to check on them, sending a shy smile towards Abed when he hands her his empty glass and their fingers touch.
“Thanks.” And then he winks at her, causing a pink flush to spread up into her cheeks.
Jeff stifles a smile at the exchange, raising his eyebrows meaningfully once she’s gone.
“She’s cute.”
Abed thinks about it. “You know, there’s nothing going on between me and Annie.”
Jeff is startled at the sudden change in subject. “Uh. Yeaaaaaah. She told me. You don’t think I care do you?”
“Don’t you?”
“No?” Jeff wants to defend himself, declare once and for all that he’s not jealous and doesn’t care who Annie does or doesn’t date but he already knows where that conversation leads. Especially with Abed. And he’s not in the mood for anymore self-analyzing tonight.
Abed’s staring at him intently and Jeff scowls, “You’re doing a voiceover in your head aren’t you?”
“I can’t help it.” He at least has the decency to look semi-guilty about it and Jeff can’t help but laugh.
“Thanks for keeping it to yourself.”
The waitress returns then with a second round of drinks and a napkin with a number and a name written on it in red pen that she coyly slides in front of Abed.
“Enjoy,” she says breathlessly and then hurries off as if she’s embarrassed.
Abed pockets the napkin and Jeff looks awed.
“You are a god.”
~*~*~
When he gets home Annie is on the couch surrounded by what looks like hundreds of brochures. “Hey!” she chirps, barely looking up. “I made chicken. There’s some in the fridge.”
“Thanks. What is that?”
“Grad school research. I’m trying to narrow it down to my favorites.”
Jeff toes at a glossy brochure sitting by the coffee table, “Johns Hopkins? Isn’t that on the east coast?”
“Yeah,” she answers distractedly as she starts a new pro/con list, writing in loopy handwriting at the top, University of Washington. Jeff frowns as he heads towards the kitchen.
When he turns the light on he braces himself for balloons to fall from the ceiling, or confetti to shoot out of the sink, or something insane, but nothing happens and he can’t help the surge of feeling he’s been unable to shake all day - something like disappointment. Which is crazy because he told her not to celebrate. He doesn’t want to celebrate. Still…
He opens the fridge.
And almost instantly that dissapointment disapates because sitting there, on the middle of the top shelf, is a round homemade cake frosted in chocolate and covered in sprinkles, his name scrawled across the top in blue icing.
“Annie,” he says a little warningly. Suddenly she’s right next to him and he can feel the enthusiasm radiating off her so much so that he can’t help but grin like an idiot into the fridge. He schools his features into indifference before turning to her though. “I thought I told you no birthday cake.”
“It’s not a birthday cake. It’s a cake. That has your name on it. And today happens to be your birthday, yes. But that is not a birthday cake. It’s a Jeff-cake!”
He’s failing terribly at trying to look stern because honestly, he can’t remember the last time someone even made a cake for him, let alone called it something ridiculously adorable like a Jeff-cake and he’s going to end up with a sugar rush before he even eats the damn thing.
“I spent my lunch break making it and I was worried that you’d come home early but-“
“Okay, okay.” The corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.
Annie grins and claps her hands together, kind of pushing him out of the way as she moves to get it out of the fridge. “I knew you’d cave.”
“Uh. I didn’t cave to anything. I’m not going to let a perfectly good dessert go to waste.”
And then, seemingly from thin air, Annie has materialized a pack of matches and a candle in the shape of a question mark that she presses into the middle of the cake.
“Annie, you know how old I am.” He laughs and flicks at the candle.
“Yes. I do. But…” She trails off and eyes him meaningfully and he actually feels himself start to get embarrassed, maybe even blush a little. He looks away before she can see it.
“Whatever. I don’t like getting older. Sue me.”
“No one cares how old you are, Jeff.” She strikes a match and lights the wick. “Haaaaa-” she starts with a little giggle in her throat before Jeff cuts her off, two fingers pressed to her lips.
“Don’t ruin it.”
“Okay. No singing. But you have to make a wish.”
“You know, I’m starting to wonder if this is just a cake. There seem to be a lot of terms and conditions involved.”
“Make a wish, Jeff.” Annie leans up and forward a bit, into his space. He grins down at her and then regards the cake thoughtfully.
“Okay, I wish-”
“No!” She yelps and mirrors his earlier action by pressing her finger to his mouth. “If you say it out loud it won’t come true.”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips puckering out in thought, almost as if he’s kissing the pads of Annie’s fingers. Her eyes widen a little in the light of the flickering candle and she slides her finger away, lingering briefly on his chin before tucking her hand safely behind her back and nodding at the cake.
Jeff closes his eyes and blows out the candle without further argument.
A few minutes later Annie is perched on the counter, Jeff leaning next to her, both with a plate of cake in their hands.
“Admit it, you would have been a little disappointed if I had completely ignored your birthday.”
He tilts his head from side to side. “Only because this is really good cake. And don’t take this to mean that you should ignore everything I say.”
“Noted. Just most things.” She leans over and presses her lips to his cheek. “Happy Birthday.” And her breath warm against his skin, he doesn’t really think about it as he turns his head, just slightly, his mouth catching the corner of hers before she completely moves away.
“Thanks,” he whispers.
Annie nods, looking down at the plate in her hand. She clears her throat, “Next year you’re getting a party.”
“Nope.”
“The whole shebang. Party hats. Streamers. Gift bags.”
Jeff groans and takes another bite of his cake. “I guarantee you I’ll hate it.”
“You’d say that, yeah.”
“Just promise, no clowns.”
“Deal.”
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 4229
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Description: Jeff gets a new roommate
Author’s Note: Okay, I absolutely did not mean for it to take so long to update this. But there was a pesky writer's block issue that I hope I'm over now. As always, my eternal gratitude to 0penhearts for the beta and the demands to keep writing.
Previous chapters
~*~*~
They fall into a routine.
On weekdays, Annie’s usually gone by the time Jeff gets out of the shower but there’s always a pot of hot coffee waiting, along with a cheerful post-it note telling him to Have a good day!!! in her neat cursive. The first few mornings he just crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash but each day, without fail, a new one appears, sometimes with a different message like, Happy Friday!!! or Tengo un buen dia!!! And he’d be lying if he said they didn’t occasionally make him smile.
He stops throwing them away and starts sticking them to random spots on the fridge so that soon it’s covered with fluorescent post-its in various shades that flutter whenever the door’s opened or closed.
Most nights Annie gets home from work first and when she makes dinner for herself she always makes a little extra. Jeff straggles in at different hours but if she’s not doing anything else she’ll sit at the counter and keep him company while he warms up his food and tells her stories about Alan and the guys at work. Or, on the rare occasions that Jeff gets home first, he’ll make dinner and Annie is somehow surprised to learn that he’s a really good cook.
When she asks him about it he mumbles something about growing up with a single mom, but doesn’t elaborate. Annie doesn’t press for more details.
And then there are the days when they’re both hanging around the apartment - late at night or on the weekends - and Jeff will stretch out on the couch watching whatever bad reality show the E! Channel is currently running on marathon and Annie will curl up in the armchair with a book from her self-imposed Summer Reading List and they’ll go hours without saying anything.
But sometimes, a stray comment will go down the rabbit hole of random conversation about anything - Jeff lying reclined on the floor after doing pushups, Annie sitting at the counter with her laptop; or him leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom while she perches on the edge of the tub painting her toenails and explaining the finer points of her hair care regimen.
(And for the record, she’s never allowed to call him vain, ever again.)
~*~*~
It’s an early Saturday night when Jeff walks into the kitchen to find almost the entire counter covered in bowls of food - sliced olives and mushrooms, green peppers, tomatoes, onions, pineapple, grated cheese - and Annie rolling out store-bought pizza dough onto a cookie sheet.
“Throwing a party?” Jeff pops an olive into his mouth and leans against the counter.
“Abed’s coming over for movie night.” She looks up at him, concerned. “I thought you had a date. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“No. That’s cool,” he answers slowly. “Movie night?”
“Mmmhmm. Normally Troy and I are in charge of the food and Abed brings the movies. He usually picks some kind of theme like ‘bank robberies’ or ‘Will Smith saves the world.’” Annie wrinkles her nose up at this last one. “Last time it was ‘road trip.’ We watched The Sure Thing and Thelma and Louise.”
“Huh.”
At the sharp tone in his voice, Annie smirks and eyes him knowingly. “We invite you all the time and you always have something better to do.”
Jeff hikes his guard up, all the way. “Whatever.” He opens the fridge door, realizes he doesn’t want anything in there and then shuts it again. “Did you think I cared? Cause I don’t.”
“Please,” she retorts, throwing a slice of green pepper at him. It bounces harmlessly off his shoulder and lands on the floor.
“Hey! Watch it. This is a clean shirt.”
Annie’s gaze slides down his body, taking in the dark blue button-down and jeans he’s wearing. “You look nice,” she says casually as she sticks the sheet of pizza dough in the oven. “What was her name again?”
“Stephanie.”
“Does she spell it with a ‘q-u’?” she asks, not a little snidely, as she starts slicing more tomatoes. “Where are you taking her?”
Under absolutely no circumstances does he want or need to talk about his dating life with Annie, but he’s not an idiot to sense that there’s some underlying jealousy going on here, right? “Um. That Italian place on First.”
“Great!”
Yep. Her voice is laced with a false, high-pitched, cheeriness and Jeff feels a stupidly warm sensation spreading across his chest. He can’t help but grin now as he starts to walk out of the kitchen, but Annie continues, “You should invite her to your birthday party.”
Hold up.
He takes two large steps backwards and spins to face her. “Annie.”
“What?” She looks at him, her eyes wide.
“What did I tell you?”
“Oh, come on Jeff. It’s your birthday!”
“Exactly. Which means that I get to celebrate any way I choose. Including, choosing not to celebrate.”
“But-”
“Trust me. One of these days you’ll understand. The novelty of a birthday wears off sometime after twenty-five.”
“That doesn’t have to be true. You can make it novel. With a party. And your friends. And we want to celebrate with you.”
“Annie.” Jeff holds up his hand. “This isn’t a fight you’re going to win.” Annie doesn’t say anything, just looks up at the ceiling with a huff. “Okay? Promise me. No birthday cake. No streamers. No stupid party hats. No singing telegrams.”
“Are singing telegrams actually a thing outside of movies? Because I’ve never-”
“Annie.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I guess I’ll call and cancel the bouncy castle,” she sighs loudly.
Jeff arches an eyebrow. “That better be sarcasm.”
“Oh. You still want the bouncy castle?” She grins.
He points at her, backing out of the kitchen again. “No clowns either.”
“Ew.”
“Or balloon animal makers. Or cotton candy machines. Or piñatas.”
“Party pooper!” She yells at him as he retreats into his room.
~*~*~
Stephanie is a leggy redhead that laughs at all his jokes while suggestively trailing her perfectly manicured fingers down the stem of her wine glass and it’s all absolutely working for him, but about halfway through dinner Jeff realizes that he’s been spending most of the evening wishing that he was back in his apartment watching movies with Annie and Abed.
~*~*~*~
Annie hiccups and grabs another tissue from the box on the coffee table. She blows her nose and leans back into Abed’s shoulder.
“Abed, this movie was terrible. Why’d you pick it?”
“I thought you’d like it.”
“Why?!”
He frowns. “Normally, I don’t like these kinds of movies because I can see through the cheap emotional manipulation. But you’re a highly emotional person and-”
“I’m not highly emotional.” Annie pulls away.
“It’s not a criticism. You wouldn’t be Annie if you weren’t.”
She contemplates his words, still looking unsure as to whether or not she’s been insulted. Her entire head feels swollen and achy from crying. They’ve just finished watching Marley and Me and the chosen theme for the night - “tear jerkers” - is living up to its name.
“Okay. Maybe I occasionally display my feelings in an emotional-type way. But I prefer to think of myself as expressive. And that doesn’t mean that I like crying. Or like watching a movie that makes me cry so hard I go through a box of tissues.”
“What about The Notebook? You like The Notebook.”
“That’s different. That’s romantic.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Abed reaches over the arm of the sofa and grabs a notepad out of his bag, jotting something down while Annie watches, perplexed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve decided that my film lacks an emotional core. Explosions and special effects bring in the big bucks, but an audience needs a reason to care. That’s why summer blockbusters don’t win Oscars.”
“Soooooo, you’re trying to figure out what makes people cry?”
“Exactly.”
“Wait.” Annie’s eyes narrow. “Did you pick this movie so you could do some kind of study on me? Because I’m highly emotional?”
Abed’s eyes shift away. “No. Yes. Sorry.”
“Abed!”
“But I would have hung out with you anyway.”
“Okay...” Annie trails off, biting her bottom lip and trying not to feel hurt because she likes this time she gets to spend with him and she had been elated when he and Troy started inviting her to hang out more. “Well, at least warn me next time.”
“Gotcha.” He finishes writing something and then flips the notebook closed and gets up to put in another movie. Annie hugs a pillow to her chest, her eyes tracing his movement across the room.
“Have you talked to Troy lately?”
“We video chat every morning while we eat breakfast. Unless his mom is around. She’s not a big fan of technology.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Of course,” he answers immediately as he sits back down.
“Why?”
“Because.” Abed pauses, like he hadn’t even considered needing a reason. “He’s my best friend.”
Annie’s surprised at the wave of feelings that sweeps over her. She wonders if she’ll ever be so unflinchingly certain about something. Or someone.
It takes her a moment to choke it back but she smiles softly as she curls her legs up onto the couch and rests her head against his arm. She reaches for his hand. “You know, you don’t have to study other people to figure out what makes someone emotional. You understand it better than you think you do.”
Abed looks a little startled as he stares down at their entwined fingers. He doesn’t say anything but he squeezes her hand in his, ever so slightly.
“So, what’s next?”
“My Girl.”
Annie sighs, “I’m going to need more tissue.”
~*~*~
It’s late, past midnight, when Jeff’s keying into the apartment, wondering idly if Annie’s still awake. She usually stays up later on the weekends and there’s a marathon of Real Housewives on the DVR and a pint of ice cream in the fridge that he wouldn’t mind putting a dent in.
The television’s still flickering quietly as he opens the door. “Hey,” he starts, but then immediately falls silent, frozen in the doorway, as he realizes that Annie’s not alone, or awake. She and Abed are curled up on the couch, her head resting on his chest, his arm slung around her shoulders. They are both sound asleep. Jeff stares, his hand clenching around his keys painfully before kicking the door shut behind him with more force than necessary.
The pair on the couch jerk awake, blinking in surprise.
“Oh sorry. Did I wake you?” He asks, in a less than apologetic voice, striding toward the kitchen.
“Hmm?” Annie rubs at her eyes and stretches her legs out with a creaky groan. “We fell asleep.”
“Clearly.”
Abed yawns loudly, untangling himself and shifting to sit at the edge of the couch to put his shoes on. “I should go.”
“You can stay if you want. It’s really late.” Annie’s voice is a little husky, groggy with sleep and in the kitchen Jeff slams his glass down a little too hard.
“Nah. My dad doesn’t like it when I don’t come home.”
Annie nods, without questioning it, and then lets Abed pull her up so she can walk him to the door. She leans into him and wraps her arms around him in a hug, murmering a "goodnight" into his shoulder.
Abed pats her back, sends Jeff a halfhearted wave, and leaves.
Annie peers toward Jeff sleepily, “There’s leftover pizza in the fridge, if you want some.”
“Great.”
She misses the irritated growl in his voice and throws him a soft smile as she heads into the bathroom. Jeff leans his forearms on the counter, a glass of water held between his hands. He’s not completely sure what he just walked in on but it felt…intimate, and a part of him would have rather just caught them having sex on the couch because at least that, that he would understand.
He thinks abut hanging out at the bar with her the other night, the way she leaned into him as she laughed, the careless way she’d curl her hand around his arm, the warm press of her body against his when they fell in the pool, and he thought -
Fuck, he doesn’t know what he thought.
When she comes out of the bathroom in her PJ’s a few minutes later Jeff starts in without pretense because whatever, it’s late and as her roommate he should at least have the facts straight, right?
“So. You and Abed.”
“Me and Abed, what?”
Jeff widens his eyes and gestures toward the couch. Annie shakes her head, still looking confused. “I don’t know-”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Oh. Nothing, Jeff. We’re friends.”
“Friends who cuddle?”
“Maybe.”
“And make out.”
She glares at him, clearly annoyed. “That was once. A year ago. Besides, you and I made out and it didn’t mean anything.” There’s a challenging bite to her words, followed by a pointed eyebrow raise.
Jeff feels something settle heavy into the pit of his stomach. He tries to swallow it away but it’s just there. The palms of his hands itch as he watches her start to make up the bed on the couch, her stiff movements relaying her irritation.
Hell, he really doesn’t want to fight with her right now. Especially over this.
“So… What was tonight’s movie theme?”
Annie pauses in what she’s doing to glance across the room at him. When their eyes meet, Jeff gives her a lopsided smile, begging her silently to understand that he just wants to let this one go. After a second, her shoulders visibly relax.
“Tearjerkers. We watched Marley and Me and My Girl. It was horrible.”
“Well, that explains the Kleenex all over the floor.”
“Abed told me that I’m highly emotional.”
“He wouldn’t be wrong about that.”
Annie rolls her eyes at him and drops down onto the couch, pulling the blankets over her legs. “So how was your date?”
“Oh. Fine.”
“Are you going to see her again?”
Jeff tilts his glass this way and that, watching the contents slosh back and forth. “Probably not.”
Annie doesn’t seem to have a response to this. She just curls herself up into her pillow with a hum.
“I’ll should let you sleep.”
“M’kay.”
Jeff stands there a minute or so longer, frowning at the counter, before setting his glass in the sink and then moving quietly through the apartment to flick off all the lights and double check that the door is locked. He steals a quick look at her - already asleep again, her mouth parted slightly as she breathes steadily in and out - before he shuts himself in his room. Without changing, he lays on his bed over the covers, flipping through random infomercials before finally falling into a restless sleep a few hours later.
~*~*~
Two days later when Jeff walks into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee the post-it note on the counter reads, “Happy Birthday!” with an accompanying smiley face. He grins and immediately presses it into an empty spot on the fridge.
No one at work knows it’s his birthday, which is good because Alan would have only used it as an excuse to go and get drunk in the middle of the day, and acting like a twenty-one year old frat guy would only have made Jeff feel older and more pathetic. He eats lunch by himself at a corner table at the café down the street but he flirts with the waitress and manages to score some extra fries so he counts it as a success.
Throughout the day he gets four phone calls: one from his mom that’s part a Happy Birthday message and part a why has it been so long since I’ve seen you guilt trip; one from Shirley wishing him a blessed birthday from her and Jesus; one from Troy that starts, “Hey man, just wishing you a good…” and ends, “…random Tuesday in your life” when it’s clear that his mom has just walked into the room; and one from Dean Pelton that… does not need to be repeated.
There’s also a text from Britta saying that she’d call but she’s out of town and doesn’t want to pay for roaming.
He doesn’t hear from Annie all day.
At 4:30, he’s sitting at his desk staring blankly at his computer screen and contemplating cutting out early when suddenly Abed is standing in front of him.
Jeff’s eyes widen as he glances around. “Uh, hey buddy.”
“Hey Jeff.” His head tilts to the side ever so slightly and Jeff can’t help but feel unnerved.
“Did you need something?”
“Oh. I figured that in your state of heightened vulnerability you would be considering leaving early. It’s your birthday, right?”
“Uh. I do not have heightened vulnerability.” Abed’s eyebrows go up in response and Jeff pulls back in his chair a little, perturbed. “How do you --?” But then he cuts himself off, holds up his hand and stands, “Nevermind. Spare me the details. Let’s go.”
~*~*~
They end up at The Ballroom, sitting at a corner booth and Jeff is surprised at how suddenly exhausted he feels sitting there across from his friend.
“Birthdays suck.”
“Only because of our unrealistic expectations.”
“No. I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“Weren’t you?”
Jeff face is blank for a moment before he smiles and leans back, resting one arm over the back of the booth. “Oh this should be good.” He gestures with his other hand for Abed to continue. “Okay. What was I expecting?”
Abed takes a sip of his beer and frowns, “You’re selfish, Jeff.”
“Everybody’s selfish. Mother Teresa was selfish.”
“Maybe. But you know what your problem is?”
“Enlighten me.”
“You don’t know what you want.”
“You know what I want Abed?” Jeff leans forward, “I want to be a lawyer again. I want to not have to work for a guy that shows up wasted to court. I want to live my life without running commentary from my friends.”
Abed looks away and Jeff scrubs his hands over his face, slumping forward in frustration.
“Is it too much to ask that I just stop getting older?”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
Jeff laughs at this and tilts back the rest of his drink. “Maybe you’re right.” At Abed’s inquisitive look he shrugs, “Maybe I don’t know what I want.”
The waitress comes by to check on them, sending a shy smile towards Abed when he hands her his empty glass and their fingers touch.
“Thanks.” And then he winks at her, causing a pink flush to spread up into her cheeks.
Jeff stifles a smile at the exchange, raising his eyebrows meaningfully once she’s gone.
“She’s cute.”
Abed thinks about it. “You know, there’s nothing going on between me and Annie.”
Jeff is startled at the sudden change in subject. “Uh. Yeaaaaaah. She told me. You don’t think I care do you?”
“Don’t you?”
“No?” Jeff wants to defend himself, declare once and for all that he’s not jealous and doesn’t care who Annie does or doesn’t date but he already knows where that conversation leads. Especially with Abed. And he’s not in the mood for anymore self-analyzing tonight.
Abed’s staring at him intently and Jeff scowls, “You’re doing a voiceover in your head aren’t you?”
“I can’t help it.” He at least has the decency to look semi-guilty about it and Jeff can’t help but laugh.
“Thanks for keeping it to yourself.”
The waitress returns then with a second round of drinks and a napkin with a number and a name written on it in red pen that she coyly slides in front of Abed.
“Enjoy,” she says breathlessly and then hurries off as if she’s embarrassed.
Abed pockets the napkin and Jeff looks awed.
“You are a god.”
~*~*~
When he gets home Annie is on the couch surrounded by what looks like hundreds of brochures. “Hey!” she chirps, barely looking up. “I made chicken. There’s some in the fridge.”
“Thanks. What is that?”
“Grad school research. I’m trying to narrow it down to my favorites.”
Jeff toes at a glossy brochure sitting by the coffee table, “Johns Hopkins? Isn’t that on the east coast?”
“Yeah,” she answers distractedly as she starts a new pro/con list, writing in loopy handwriting at the top, University of Washington. Jeff frowns as he heads towards the kitchen.
When he turns the light on he braces himself for balloons to fall from the ceiling, or confetti to shoot out of the sink, or something insane, but nothing happens and he can’t help the surge of feeling he’s been unable to shake all day - something like disappointment. Which is crazy because he told her not to celebrate. He doesn’t want to celebrate. Still…
He opens the fridge.
And almost instantly that dissapointment disapates because sitting there, on the middle of the top shelf, is a round homemade cake frosted in chocolate and covered in sprinkles, his name scrawled across the top in blue icing.
“Annie,” he says a little warningly. Suddenly she’s right next to him and he can feel the enthusiasm radiating off her so much so that he can’t help but grin like an idiot into the fridge. He schools his features into indifference before turning to her though. “I thought I told you no birthday cake.”
“It’s not a birthday cake. It’s a cake. That has your name on it. And today happens to be your birthday, yes. But that is not a birthday cake. It’s a Jeff-cake!”
He’s failing terribly at trying to look stern because honestly, he can’t remember the last time someone even made a cake for him, let alone called it something ridiculously adorable like a Jeff-cake and he’s going to end up with a sugar rush before he even eats the damn thing.
“I spent my lunch break making it and I was worried that you’d come home early but-“
“Okay, okay.” The corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.
Annie grins and claps her hands together, kind of pushing him out of the way as she moves to get it out of the fridge. “I knew you’d cave.”
“Uh. I didn’t cave to anything. I’m not going to let a perfectly good dessert go to waste.”
And then, seemingly from thin air, Annie has materialized a pack of matches and a candle in the shape of a question mark that she presses into the middle of the cake.
“Annie, you know how old I am.” He laughs and flicks at the candle.
“Yes. I do. But…” She trails off and eyes him meaningfully and he actually feels himself start to get embarrassed, maybe even blush a little. He looks away before she can see it.
“Whatever. I don’t like getting older. Sue me.”
“No one cares how old you are, Jeff.” She strikes a match and lights the wick. “Haaaaa-” she starts with a little giggle in her throat before Jeff cuts her off, two fingers pressed to her lips.
“Don’t ruin it.”
“Okay. No singing. But you have to make a wish.”
“You know, I’m starting to wonder if this is just a cake. There seem to be a lot of terms and conditions involved.”
“Make a wish, Jeff.” Annie leans up and forward a bit, into his space. He grins down at her and then regards the cake thoughtfully.
“Okay, I wish-”
“No!” She yelps and mirrors his earlier action by pressing her finger to his mouth. “If you say it out loud it won’t come true.”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips puckering out in thought, almost as if he’s kissing the pads of Annie’s fingers. Her eyes widen a little in the light of the flickering candle and she slides her finger away, lingering briefly on his chin before tucking her hand safely behind her back and nodding at the cake.
Jeff closes his eyes and blows out the candle without further argument.
A few minutes later Annie is perched on the counter, Jeff leaning next to her, both with a plate of cake in their hands.
“Admit it, you would have been a little disappointed if I had completely ignored your birthday.”
He tilts his head from side to side. “Only because this is really good cake. And don’t take this to mean that you should ignore everything I say.”
“Noted. Just most things.” She leans over and presses her lips to his cheek. “Happy Birthday.” And her breath warm against his skin, he doesn’t really think about it as he turns his head, just slightly, his mouth catching the corner of hers before she completely moves away.
“Thanks,” he whispers.
Annie nods, looking down at the plate in her hand. She clears her throat, “Next year you’re getting a party.”
“Nope.”
“The whole shebang. Party hats. Streamers. Gift bags.”
Jeff groans and takes another bite of his cake. “I guarantee you I’ll hate it.”
“You’d say that, yeah.”
“Just promise, no clowns.”
“Deal.”