Applied Human Mechanics (2b/?)
Title: Applied Human Mechanics - Group Support Systems (2b/?)
Author:
rorge
Character/Pairing: Jeff, Annie, Britta, Jeff/Annie
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance
Word Count: 2966
Summary: The group gets Jeff drunk, to find out what the problem is.
Disclaimer: I own the seven bucks in my pocket, and a few other odds and ends. No TV shows, though.
A/N: So this is the second half of chapter 2. I think I could actually have split it into three without too much of a stretch, but never mind. This section is very dialogue heavy, in contrast to the first half. And very decompressed, too. Never use a single word when a dozen will do, that's what I say.
“I know what you're doing,” Jeff said, his words slurring just a little.
Britta smiled innocently. “Do you, now? And just what is it I'm doing, Jeff?”
“You think I've got some daddy issue messing with my head, and just because you've done three months of Psychology 101, you think you're gonna get me to sob my heart out. And somehow that will make everything better.”
Smartass, she thought, feeling the urge to punch him right in his smug face. Instead she scoffed, “What!?” and smirked at Jeff as though he was being ridiculous. “If I was going to do that, you really think I'd bring you to a bar with all of our friends?”
Jeff frowned, suddenly looking unsure. “Erm... I guess that would be kinda stupid.”
Britta just about managed to keep from glaring at him. “Right? Stupid. Here,” she waved to attract the attention of the bartender, and signaled for another round of drinks. “We can't have you running dry, can we?”
“You do know that guy is going to expect some recompense for the personal service he's been giving us... you, all night?”
Britta laughed. “Well maybe if he plays his cards right, I'll give him a little birthday present of his own.” She paused, then honest curiosity got the better of her. “Hey, how did the Dean know it was your birthday, anyway? None of us did.”
Jeff snorted derisively. “He was probably reading my registration forms, or hacking into the Social Security database. Whatever he does in his spare time.”
“Yeah, I figured you hadn't told him, seeing how you don't like birthdays.” Britta leaned forward and played with her glass, trying to look as casual as possible. “Why is that, anyway?”
Jeff was slouched in his seat, and seemed to be looking over at the pool table, where Troy, Abed... and Annie were laughing about something. “What? Why don't I like birthdays?”
Britta smiled winsomely at the bartender as he brought their drinks over, and ignored the way he leered at her. She watched as Jeff downed his scotch in one gulp, and waited. Come on, Jeff. You and I both know you get awkwardly chatty after enough booze.
Sure enough, he actually looked thoughtful for a moment, before he turned to give her a bitter half smile. “It's not really that I don't like birthdays, though they've never been anything to write home about... even when I was living at home.”
Britta kept quiet, not wanting to disturb his train of thought.
His eyes seemed to focus on something down near the floor, and he continued. “But this birthday, in particular, has been a real pile of crap. You know, I had all these plans. Ever since I became a lawyer, I had it all locked down. Make a great impression on the partners, build a fearsome reputation in court, bring in the big money, buy a luxury car and condo, and then make partner myself.” He stopped, sneering at the thought. “That was what I had planned for this year. 'Turn thirty six, make partner'.”
Looking back up at Britta, he offered that bleak, humorless smile again. “Pretty stupid, right? Instead of making partner, I'm stuck in a school that has to be the toilet bowl of all Colorado, living in a crappy, one bedroom apartment, taking classes where I have to make freakin' dioramas or terrariums.” He trailed off, his eyes drifting across to the pool table again, still smiling that bitter little. “Life sucks.”
Britta didn't know what to say. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought she should feel proud that she broke through his walls, that she'd finally got into that safe he kept in the bathroom. That she should be praising herself for being an awesome therapist. Instead, she just sat there, feeling a little sick. Seeing Jeff this open was unprecedented, and hearing him talk about more than the most superficial things was unnerving. She thought she might actually have preferred it when he was being a shallow douchebag. At least then, she could make fun of him and not feel bad.
“Why thirty six?” She asked, then mentally kicked herself. Talk about seizing on the most irrelevant part of what he just said, Britta, you moron! “I mean, if you don't care about birthdays, why choose that arbitrary date? The day you turn thirty six?”
Jeff actually gave a little laugh, but there was nothing of amusement in it. “Oh, you're gonna love this.” He paused for effect. “Because my dad was thirty six when he skipped out on me and my mom.”
Britta had imagined this moment. This opportunity to whoop that she'd called it, when she said he had daddy issues, and throw it in his face. Somehow, she didn't want to. He continued talking. “Yeah, he was thirty six, and a good for nothing conman. I promised myself that I'd never, ever be like that. So I figured, let's see how I stack up to him, when I get to the same age. Turns out, not that well.”
“Well, we all make mistakes, Jeff. But you're not like him. You're not a no account conman.”
He laughed again, a brittle sound. “No? I lied about my bachelor's degree, and made a career out of defending people I knew were guilty. And I got caught. And now I'm here.” He seemed to lose his train of thought slightly, and dropped to little more than a murmur. “That's not the only thing I'm following him in, either.”
Britta followed his gaze, right back to Annie, who was listening to Abed presumably explaining something important about pool. Or maybe about wormholes. You never could tell, with him. And suddenly it clicked. “Wait... your dad was older than your mom, wasn't he?”
Jeff's eyes shot to her, widening. After a moment, he nodded. Then, “Yeah. Nine years older. She was nineteen when they met, and pregnant with me less than a year later. How did you...?”
Britta was amazed. “Holy crap, so you're scared that... if you and Annie....” She couldn't finish the thought, and Jeff shot up in his seat, already shaking his head.
“What? No way.” He backtracked frantically, eyes wide. “I just think Annie's hot, but come on, who the hell doesn't? I bet you've caught yourself checking her out once or twice. ”
Britta rolled her eyes. “OK, fine. So why don't you just bone her?”
“Wh... what?”
“You know. You want her, everyone can see that. Get it out of your system. We'd all understand.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “Go over there, right now, and work your magic. She'll be putty in your hands. And pretty soon after, I reckon she'd be moaning in your bed. Just get her on her back and....”
Jeff recoiled. “What the fuck, Britta?” He looked horrified. “Don't talk about Annie like that! She's not... she isn't...” He didn't seem to be able to find the words, and Britta couldn't help but grin in smug victory.
“See? You can't even think about her like that. You 'just think she's hot'? Come on, Jeff, you're full of shit, and you know it.” He just glared at her, clearly trying to think of a response. When none was forthcoming, Britta carried on, “If all you felt for her was lust, you'd have banged her a long time ago. Like you did with me,” If she was being honest, that fact hurt a little. Not that she wanted Jeff to feel for her what he clearly did for Annie, but she couldn't help wondering about what might have been.
“That was completely different...”
“Exactly my point.” She reached across the table and grabbed his unresponsive hand. “Look, Jeff, I know you've got all sorts of intimacy and self esteem issues. I've seen your bathroom safe, remember. God knows why, but Annie is nuts about you, and if all you're scared of is screwing things up and hurting her, just because that's what your dad did, then you're a bigger moron than I ever thought you were.”
With that, Britta stood and walked over to the trio by the pool table, feeling immeasurably proud of herself. Annie looked up and smiled brightly, before worry clouded her eyes. “Hey, how did it go?” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Did you talk to him? Is he okay?”
Britta sighed. “'Okay' is a relative term, when it comes to Jeff Winger. Hopefully he'll explain it to you soon.”
Annie blinked, her forehead wrinkling slightly in pretty confusion. “To me? Why would he talk to me?”
Oh, for crying out loud! Britta felt like banging her head against the table. Now Annie's at it with the denials as well. She didn't have the drive to get into that again, so simply said, “Who knows why Jeff does the things he does.”
As though summoned, the man appeared at her shoulder, looking just about as sheepish as Britta had ever seen.
“Hey, Jeff,” Annie said, her eyes darting about his face in a quick assessment. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Oh yeah, tonight's been a blast, Annie.” He offered a sickly smile, hands stuffed securely in his pockets.
He actually made that sound halfway sincere, Britta thought, impressed.
Annie looked pleased. “Well... good. I'm glad.” She nodded decisively.
Britta shook her head, suddenly feeling very tired. “Okay then, who wants another drink?”
*
Annie tried her best to ignore the whispers and giggles emanating from the back of the car, but still found herself grinding her teeth, knuckles white from the tight grip she held on the steering wheel.
Jeff and Britta were wasted. Of that there was no doubt. Jeff, particularly, seemed to be on some sort of mission to obliterate every coherent thought in his mind. Whatever Britta had said to him while Annie watched Abed and Troy play pool? It hadn't worked.
What had been worse was that Britta and Troy had plowed into it right alongside him. Abed was currently driving a barely conscious Troy back to the apartment in Annie's car, and she was chauffeuring two people who were probably going to end up having drunken, messy sex that meant nothing. She wasn't sure whether to cry or scream. Instead, she stayed silent.
If she looked in the rear view mirror, she could see that they had their heads pressed together, practically touching foreheads, as first Jeff muttered something, then Britta did, then one of them giggled like an eight year old. Could this night get any worse? Annie wondered, before recalling a tale Abed had told her about being the unwilling spectator to a gross make out session between the pair of them on Troy's birthday last year. Well, at least they have the decency not to do that in front of me.... Yet.
Thankfully, they pulled up to Jeff's apartment complex before things could get any worse, and Annie stamped on the brakes a little harder than necessary, which felt therapeutic, somehow. Sober Jeff would have freaked out at her mistreatment of his beloved Lexus. Hell, sober Jeff would never have even let her drive it, but drunk Jeff had shoved his keys at her, wearing a goofy smile and swaying.
She sat, listening as Jeff muttered, “Oh hey, we're here. Apartment.” He laboriously opened the door and clambered out.
Annie caught Britta's eye in the rear view mirror, and steeled herself. “Will you be alright from here?”
Britta blinked hazily, and shook her head. “I'm gonna need help getting him inside. Can't hardly walk.” She broke into a husky laugh, and Annie squeezed her eyes shut, anger giving way to humiliation.
Are they really going to do this? Is Jeff going to take Britta into his apartment, with me here watching? She could barely believe the two of them could be so heartless. So... mean. Without even realizing it, she found herself saying, “Okay,” and opening the door.
Jeff was slumped against the side of the car, and Britta took hold of one arm, gesturing for Annie to take the other. Jeff peered down at Britta blearily, and said, “Hey, you know, your face isn't vacuous.”
“Wow. That's... um... that's really nice of you to say.” She looked baffled, but Jeff had already swung his head in Annie's direction.
“Annie.” He hiccuped, and for a horrendous moment, Annie thought he was about to vomit all over her. Instead, he swallowed heavily, and then said. “You're so pretty. You know that? More than pretty. You make a guy wanna... wanna....” He trailed off, and Annie rolled her eyes.
“Come on,” she said, trying to ignore his words. The first time he tells me I'm pretty, and he's blasted out of his gourd. Great. “Let's get you upstairs.”
She and Britta awkwardly navigated Jeff through the foyer and into the elevator. Annie could barely bring herself to look at either of them, but couldn't help noticing Britta stroking Jeff comfortingly on the arm. Her eyes were suddenly stinging at the impotence of her situation here. She had no right to say what she wanted to, no claim to Jeff at all. But still, what right did Britta have?
The elevator seemed to take forever, but eventually it arrived at Jeff's floor, and they levered him out and through the corridor to his apartment. Britta fished into his pocket for his keys, and opened the door. All the while, Jeff was mumbling something incoherent. Annie viciously hoped he'd be incapable of getting it up. Permanently.
As soon as they got him close enough to his couch, she let go of him, and watched as he dropped gracelessly onto it, almost dragging Britta down with him. She straightened up, and for an unbelievably awkward moment, she and Britta stood looking at each other. Britta was actually smiling, amused. Annie just shook her head helplessly, biting her lip in frustration and hurt. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes.
“Okay.... Well.... I'm gonna go. 'Night.” She turned for the door, head down.
“Wait, what are you...? Hang on, I just need to get him a glass of water.”
Annie jerked around, confused and angry. “Look, I don't need to know what you're gonna do, Britta! It's been a long night, and I'm really not going to hang around and watch this happen!”
Britta looked baffled. “Watch what happen? Annie, I need a ride home. It's too far to walk from here. I just wanna get Jeff some water first.” She looked down at him, considering his state. “And maybe the waste basket.”
Annie stared. “You're... you're not staying the night?”
“What!? Staying here? Why would I....” Britta stopped as she understood what Annie meant, and her face softened in sympathy. “Oh, Annie, no. Me and Jeff... we're not... I'm mean we aren't gonna.... Anything.”
Annie felt something shift inside her at Britta's words, but dared not let herself hope. “Oh... I just thought that....”
“No,” Britta interrupted, shaking her head. “No chance. Jeff and me, we haven't had sex since you guys found out about it.” She was staring at Annie fervently, sincerity pouring off her as only drunk people could manage. “And we're not gonna do it again. It was... it was bad.” Annie blinked at that, and Britta hurriedly clarified. “Not the sex! That was good... really good.” She winced, and continued. “I mean... well, you know what I mean. It was a bad thing to do. Because you guys were right, we were being selfish. And... and selfish.”
“Well... I'm glad,” Annie said, summoning a smile. She was trying to get this all straight in her head. Trying to find the catch, the barb that would bite in and tear. There didn't seem to be any. Britta's face exuded honesty and integrity, even if she was struggling to focus, and Annie relaxed a little.
Britta was nodding now, at Annie's response. “Yeah. Jeff likes you, y'see. Like... way too much, and it's kinda gross, but I know you like him too. You should... y'know... get him.” She waved her hand at Jeff, who was now snoring lightly, slumped on the couch.
Annie grimaced. “Right now, I think I'll pass.” She looked up at Britta and smiled. “But thank you, Britta, for being honest about you and Jeff. I'll definitely think about what you said.” Is Britta actually right about this? she couldn't help wondering. Did Jeff say something to her tonight about me? The temptation was there to squeal with excitement and beg Britta to tell all, but Annie firmed her jaw, and refused to stoop to that. If Jeff Winger does want me, he's going to have to tell me himself. And he's going to have to make it good.
Annie helped Britta heft and lever Jeff until he was lying on the couch, feet hanging over the edge. He didn't stir, and the two women were left muttering complaints about the dead weight. Why does he have to be so damn tall? And built?
And with one last look at the dozing object of so much confusion, frustration and affection, Annie took Britta's arm and led her out of the apartment, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She still didn't know where she and Jeff stood, but now she knew one thing. Britta Perry wasn't going to be standing between them.