Fic: Man is Evil
Title: Man is Evil
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Jeff/Annie
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "There was a time when I could have gotten this for free."
Disclaimer: Community belongs to Dan Harmon, NBC/Universal/Sony
Warning: Dark, AU/Future!fic
Author’s Note: I always swore I would never write 'Community' fic. Damn you, Porn BattleXI (prompt word: study room)! And, okay, its' Jeff/Annie, something else I swore I'd never write because, hey, I don't want to get into the ship!wars - heck, I don't ship any ship on this show (not really). But, this damn idea came and wouldn't let go, so...you get what you get...
"I can't believe I'm paying for this," Jeff Winger muttered, arms crossed, "There was a time when I could have gotten this for free."
"Probably," She tossed out unhelpfully as she scanned the room, "So, how do you want to do this?"
Jeff scratched at the back of his neck, "Yeeeah, about that..."
She turned to him, eyes narrowed and he felt surreal. The look was so her and so not her. He picked up where he left off, "I just wanted to meet you here. To-to set up the actual date and time for, um-"
She stalked over, cutting him off, as she took hold of his tie, locking his gaze with her own, "Jeffrey, I'm not cheap. In fact, I'm pretty high class. Actors, Senators, Doctors-"
"Lawyers?" He added.
She smirked, "Cute."
"Annie-"
"Don't call me that," her voice was sharp, serious, "This is business. Pure and simple."
He couldn't help but give her a cat-grin, "Yeah, but, I mean, come on. I can't call you Caroline."
"Why not?"
He scoffed, "Because that's not your name."
"It is when I'm working."
"Yeah, okay, but-"
"Look, Winger," she said, voice soft but deadly, "When you first called, I almost said 'no'. It's good policy in my line of work to say 'no' to old friends and acquaintances. But," she shrugged, "I can always use the extra cash."
"Is that the only reason?"
She didn't look at him, instead pushing some loose hair behind one ear, "Of course."
"Ann-" she cut him off with a sharp glare, "Caroline," she smiled, "Isn't it also good policy to provide the client what they pay for? No matter what the fantasy?"
She sighed, "Yes."
"...well?"
"Fine. You can call me 'Annie'. I am, if nothing else, a professional."
"I'll just bet you are," he said this smugly but part of him felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He cleared his throat, "So, I was thinking this Friday. Close to midnight. At this address," he handed her a card and she skimmed it quickly. He expected her to look shocked and when she didn't he was half-disappointed, half-sad.
The old Annie would have been shocked. Appalled.
The new one just tucks the card away into her purse, "Okay. See you then."
--
"You still talk to the Dean?" Annie asked as she entered the study room.
"He needed some legal counsel."
"Oh," she gave him a bright smile, "I bet that was fun."
"You'd be surprised how many laws a man can break that involve dalmatians."
"Yikes."
"Pretty much."
"Well, I assume we have the building to ourselves?"
He nodded.
Annie looked at him then and it was as if someone flicked a switch inside her. She transformed into a smoky, sultry goddess. He leaned against the study room table, staring at her, and it just...it didn't feel right...
Jeff had wanted this once. Secretly. Desperately. Even knowing he shouldn't, he had wanted it. As he had said once upon a time: it had been complicated. It still was. In way.
He was paying for this, after all.
And Jeff Winger certainly didn't need to pay to get laid.
But when he had heard about 'Caroline Decker' from one of his colleagues, the name had struck a chord, and then he'd called her and the moment he'd spoken to her on the phone, he'd known who she truly was.
And the thought of it had eaten him alive.
If he had been Britta, he would have been outraged.
If he had been Shirley, he would have been concerned.
If he had been Troy, he would have thought it was cool.
If he had been Abed, he would have referenced 'Pretty Woman'.
If he had been Pierce, he would have probably said something about how this made sense, even if it didn't.
But he wasn't any of them. He was himself and the first thing that had come to his mind was the idea that now, now, all of his former thoughts and longings and lusts could somehow be considered excusable.
And what's more, they could be satisfied.
But they couldn't be when she looked like this. She was in a designer-label black dress, smart pumps, dark hair aptly styled...it wasn't right. She looked too polished, too sophisticated, too worldly. She looked like Caroline Decker. And that's not what he wanted. That's not what (who) he had paid for.
Annie walked over to him, her movements well practiced, as she positioned herself to one side of him, in his personal space but not crowding, voice a purr, "So...what are you looking for tonight?"
He laughed and shook his head, crossing his arms, tone full of sarcasm, "Wow...that's...good. You're really good at this."
She sighed and rolled her eyes, "Look, help a girl out, all right? It's been years since we spoke, so it's not like we have to act like we used to-"
"Yeah," he intoned, "I know. It has been. Years, I mean."
"Aw, Jeff, you getting sentimental in your old age?"
He used one of his middle fingers to scratch the side of his face closest to her and she laughed, "Okay, well, good - then we can get down to business. What do you want?"
Jeff swallowed. He didn't want to say it aloud. He looked at her. She looked at him, really looked, and he felt frozen. It was as if she was gazing right down into the center of him. It was something the old Annie wouldn't have been close to capable of.
He hated it.
Even more so when she laughed dryly and shook her head, "Ah ha, I see. Thought so," she patted his shoulder, "Okay. Give me a fifteen minutes. Twenty max."
She exited the room. Jeff lifted himself up on the study table, sitting on it, feet swinging in the open air. He looked around and felt a pang deep inside. He locked it away quickly, tightly, right where it belong. Buried.
Annie returned to the room and it was as if he had gone back in time.
The sleek black dress, the perfectly tailored make-up and hair, the seductive woman - that was all gone.
In it's place was a buttoned-up blue cardigan, a smart grey skirt, and hair pulled back by a single barrette, the young girl with determined, wide-eyed freshness.
Annie.
Just the way he remembered her.
All the earlier, practiced mannerisms were replaced with old, easy movements - her hands fiddling with one another anxiously before her right hand rose, fingertips idly twirling the tips of her hair. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and bit her bottom lip, eyes Disney-wide, "So? Good?"
Jeff charged over to her, all ready breathing heavy, hands cupping her face as he bent down and kissed her hungrily.
She moaned, her mouth falling open easily, her tongue finding his. His arms wrapped around her, held her, drew her impossibly close against him. More. He just had to have more.
He turned her, easing her back towards the study table and when the back of her knees met it she broke away from him, panting, "Here, huh? Just like Britta?"
That gave him pause. Jeff hadn't thought about Britta almost as long as he hadn't thought about Annie. Thought about any of them. Christ, he had had Britta here just as he was about to have Annie - hot, hard, and fast.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he cursed. Looking away, voice thick, "I was wrong, earlier. You really are good at this."
"Oh?"
He nodded, jaw jutting out as he scowled, "You've almost got me believing you're-" he trailed off, not wanting to say it.
She said it for him, "What? Innocent? Well, I'm sorry Jeffrey, I grew up. Isn't that what you always wanted? Wasn't that your number one compliant? That I was too young?"
"Yeah, okay, but now you're-you're-"
"What?" she asked, voice hollow, "A whore?"
He flinched.
Annie softened, "Would you prefer escort?" He didn't offer more, so she continued, "Jeff...this is who I am. Okay? And don't flatter yourself. It has nothing to do with you. I like my life. I like what I do. And you're about the last person on earth I think should look his nose down at me-"
He started to argue but she cut him off, "-oh shut up, yes, you are. And hey, look, you want to stop, we can. Right now. You won't owe me a dime, but..." her voice took on that honey quality again, her hands openly roaming down his chest, going lower, "...I don't think you want to stop..."
Jeff watched her hands trail down his body, his eyes heavy-lidded as she brought her face close, her lips hovering over his as she spoke, "Remember what we used to say? Man is evil?"
She kissed him, once, sweetly, before drawing away, whispering, "Well...there's nothing wrong with that."
"Annie..."
"I think you want to get something out of your system...something that's been in there a long time. And I'm more than game, so..."
She kissed him again, mouth nibbling at his gently, her hands still floating over him, not quite touching the parts of him that wanted to be touched most and he growled, his hands gripping her shoulders before moving upwards, his fingers threading through her hair, cupping the nape of her neck.
Jeff took control of the kiss, dominated it, his mouth feasting on hers and Annie whimpered triumphantly, letting him. Her fingers found the bottom of his shirt, drew it up and he helped her, stripping it off easily, tossing it aside.
Their mouths hardly left one another's, lips connected in one kiss after another even as they stripped themselves down. Jeff was more than happy to toss her cardigan aside, to cup her breasts through the ruffled, flimsy material of the blouse she wore beneath.
Annie's head fell back and she gasped his name, the action leaving her throat exposed so he could explore it with tongue and teeth. He nipped at her, sucking, licking, biting and she mewled, fingernails cutting into his back and arms.
He lifted her up onto the table, hitching up her skirt, finding her underwear, drawing it off and away, before he lowered her back to her feet and she looked at him with one raised eyebrow, "What are you-?"
"This is how I pictured it," he breathed huskily and immediately she understood. She undid the front buttons of blouse, then unhooked the front clasp of her bra. She turned her back to him, her palms resting on the table, "Is this how you want me?"
He didn't answer, unable to use words, instead he let his actions speak as he gently bent her low over the table, hiking her skirt up higher. She heard his zipper go down and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she gasped, "God, please, just...hurry..."
But Jeff didn't hurry, instead he reached forward, his fingers finding her first, slipping in gently, teasing her. Annie cried out, her whole being wired too tightly, back arching as she moved against his hand.
Eventually he drew away, his hands going around her, cupping her breasts as he thrust himself inside her, filling her. Annie let out a guttural sound of pleasure as she rocked back against him, urging him onwards
Jeff gripped her breasts tightly as he rode her, rhythm quickly established, words tumbling out of him that he didn't even recognize - something about how tight she was and how good it felt and her name over and over again, a chant, a mantra, a prayer, a curse.
And she encouraged him - saying things about how much she loved it, about how he was taking her, and his name...his name...
Almost everything she had done had been flawlessly scripted. He could sense the script - even when he had tried to ignore it, it had been there. Except for this. Except for his name on her lips...the way she said it...
It wasn't long before he came and he could feel her, coming apart around him. He collapsed against her back, breathing heavily, completion making him a cross between light-headed and drowsy.
He eventually drew away and started collecting himself, clothing returning to his body, everything going back to its' proper place.
She recovered much more quickly than him.
In fact she was dressed and ready to go almost instantly after it was over.
And that was...disheartening.
She found his jacket and he thought she was going to hand it to him, and she did, but not before swiftly checking the pockets and drawing out a plain white envelope. She opened it and quickly shuffled the dollars bills inside, calculating before she nodded, satisfied.
She withdrew the money, tucking it away as efficiently as she had the card from the other evening...same purse actually...he hadn't even noticed that she had entered with a purse. She drew out a purple pen and, taking the now empty envelope, she scribbled something down, handing it to him, "Just in case you want to call again. I change my number frequently, depending on the client. This line is permanent and for the more...reliable."
He took the envelope and she turned, she spoke over her shoulder and the sound of her tone made his heart seize, "Pleasure doing business with you."
And then she was gone.
Jeff looked at the envelope, looked at the number and then he crumpled it up into a ball, more than prepared to toss it into the trash. After all, he had got what he came for. It was over. Done. Finally.
But...
He smoothed out the envelope, looked at the number, at the neat, fine handwriting that hadn't changed, that couldn't change, that simply was...her...
He ran his fingers over it and cursed. He gently folded the envelope, sticking it back in his jacket pocket.
She was right.
Man was evil.
...but what was worse, man was weak.
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Jeff/Annie
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "There was a time when I could have gotten this for free."
Disclaimer: Community belongs to Dan Harmon, NBC/Universal/Sony
Warning: Dark, AU/Future!fic
Author’s Note: I always swore I would never write 'Community' fic. Damn you, Porn BattleXI (prompt word: study room)! And, okay, its' Jeff/Annie, something else I swore I'd never write because, hey, I don't want to get into the ship!wars - heck, I don't ship any ship on this show (not really). But, this damn idea came and wouldn't let go, so...you get what you get...
"I can't believe I'm paying for this," Jeff Winger muttered, arms crossed, "There was a time when I could have gotten this for free."
"Probably," She tossed out unhelpfully as she scanned the room, "So, how do you want to do this?"
Jeff scratched at the back of his neck, "Yeeeah, about that..."
She turned to him, eyes narrowed and he felt surreal. The look was so her and so not her. He picked up where he left off, "I just wanted to meet you here. To-to set up the actual date and time for, um-"
She stalked over, cutting him off, as she took hold of his tie, locking his gaze with her own, "Jeffrey, I'm not cheap. In fact, I'm pretty high class. Actors, Senators, Doctors-"
"Lawyers?" He added.
She smirked, "Cute."
"Annie-"
"Don't call me that," her voice was sharp, serious, "This is business. Pure and simple."
He couldn't help but give her a cat-grin, "Yeah, but, I mean, come on. I can't call you Caroline."
"Why not?"
He scoffed, "Because that's not your name."
"It is when I'm working."
"Yeah, okay, but-"
"Look, Winger," she said, voice soft but deadly, "When you first called, I almost said 'no'. It's good policy in my line of work to say 'no' to old friends and acquaintances. But," she shrugged, "I can always use the extra cash."
"Is that the only reason?"
She didn't look at him, instead pushing some loose hair behind one ear, "Of course."
"Ann-" she cut him off with a sharp glare, "Caroline," she smiled, "Isn't it also good policy to provide the client what they pay for? No matter what the fantasy?"
She sighed, "Yes."
"...well?"
"Fine. You can call me 'Annie'. I am, if nothing else, a professional."
"I'll just bet you are," he said this smugly but part of him felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He cleared his throat, "So, I was thinking this Friday. Close to midnight. At this address," he handed her a card and she skimmed it quickly. He expected her to look shocked and when she didn't he was half-disappointed, half-sad.
The old Annie would have been shocked. Appalled.
The new one just tucks the card away into her purse, "Okay. See you then."
--
"You still talk to the Dean?" Annie asked as she entered the study room.
"He needed some legal counsel."
"Oh," she gave him a bright smile, "I bet that was fun."
"You'd be surprised how many laws a man can break that involve dalmatians."
"Yikes."
"Pretty much."
"Well, I assume we have the building to ourselves?"
He nodded.
Annie looked at him then and it was as if someone flicked a switch inside her. She transformed into a smoky, sultry goddess. He leaned against the study room table, staring at her, and it just...it didn't feel right...
Jeff had wanted this once. Secretly. Desperately. Even knowing he shouldn't, he had wanted it. As he had said once upon a time: it had been complicated. It still was. In way.
He was paying for this, after all.
And Jeff Winger certainly didn't need to pay to get laid.
But when he had heard about 'Caroline Decker' from one of his colleagues, the name had struck a chord, and then he'd called her and the moment he'd spoken to her on the phone, he'd known who she truly was.
And the thought of it had eaten him alive.
If he had been Britta, he would have been outraged.
If he had been Shirley, he would have been concerned.
If he had been Troy, he would have thought it was cool.
If he had been Abed, he would have referenced 'Pretty Woman'.
If he had been Pierce, he would have probably said something about how this made sense, even if it didn't.
But he wasn't any of them. He was himself and the first thing that had come to his mind was the idea that now, now, all of his former thoughts and longings and lusts could somehow be considered excusable.
And what's more, they could be satisfied.
But they couldn't be when she looked like this. She was in a designer-label black dress, smart pumps, dark hair aptly styled...it wasn't right. She looked too polished, too sophisticated, too worldly. She looked like Caroline Decker. And that's not what he wanted. That's not what (who) he had paid for.
Annie walked over to him, her movements well practiced, as she positioned herself to one side of him, in his personal space but not crowding, voice a purr, "So...what are you looking for tonight?"
He laughed and shook his head, crossing his arms, tone full of sarcasm, "Wow...that's...good. You're really good at this."
She sighed and rolled her eyes, "Look, help a girl out, all right? It's been years since we spoke, so it's not like we have to act like we used to-"
"Yeah," he intoned, "I know. It has been. Years, I mean."
"Aw, Jeff, you getting sentimental in your old age?"
He used one of his middle fingers to scratch the side of his face closest to her and she laughed, "Okay, well, good - then we can get down to business. What do you want?"
Jeff swallowed. He didn't want to say it aloud. He looked at her. She looked at him, really looked, and he felt frozen. It was as if she was gazing right down into the center of him. It was something the old Annie wouldn't have been close to capable of.
He hated it.
Even more so when she laughed dryly and shook her head, "Ah ha, I see. Thought so," she patted his shoulder, "Okay. Give me a fifteen minutes. Twenty max."
She exited the room. Jeff lifted himself up on the study table, sitting on it, feet swinging in the open air. He looked around and felt a pang deep inside. He locked it away quickly, tightly, right where it belong. Buried.
Annie returned to the room and it was as if he had gone back in time.
The sleek black dress, the perfectly tailored make-up and hair, the seductive woman - that was all gone.
In it's place was a buttoned-up blue cardigan, a smart grey skirt, and hair pulled back by a single barrette, the young girl with determined, wide-eyed freshness.
Annie.
Just the way he remembered her.
All the earlier, practiced mannerisms were replaced with old, easy movements - her hands fiddling with one another anxiously before her right hand rose, fingertips idly twirling the tips of her hair. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and bit her bottom lip, eyes Disney-wide, "So? Good?"
Jeff charged over to her, all ready breathing heavy, hands cupping her face as he bent down and kissed her hungrily.
She moaned, her mouth falling open easily, her tongue finding his. His arms wrapped around her, held her, drew her impossibly close against him. More. He just had to have more.
He turned her, easing her back towards the study table and when the back of her knees met it she broke away from him, panting, "Here, huh? Just like Britta?"
That gave him pause. Jeff hadn't thought about Britta almost as long as he hadn't thought about Annie. Thought about any of them. Christ, he had had Britta here just as he was about to have Annie - hot, hard, and fast.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he cursed. Looking away, voice thick, "I was wrong, earlier. You really are good at this."
"Oh?"
He nodded, jaw jutting out as he scowled, "You've almost got me believing you're-" he trailed off, not wanting to say it.
She said it for him, "What? Innocent? Well, I'm sorry Jeffrey, I grew up. Isn't that what you always wanted? Wasn't that your number one compliant? That I was too young?"
"Yeah, okay, but now you're-you're-"
"What?" she asked, voice hollow, "A whore?"
He flinched.
Annie softened, "Would you prefer escort?" He didn't offer more, so she continued, "Jeff...this is who I am. Okay? And don't flatter yourself. It has nothing to do with you. I like my life. I like what I do. And you're about the last person on earth I think should look his nose down at me-"
He started to argue but she cut him off, "-oh shut up, yes, you are. And hey, look, you want to stop, we can. Right now. You won't owe me a dime, but..." her voice took on that honey quality again, her hands openly roaming down his chest, going lower, "...I don't think you want to stop..."
Jeff watched her hands trail down his body, his eyes heavy-lidded as she brought her face close, her lips hovering over his as she spoke, "Remember what we used to say? Man is evil?"
She kissed him, once, sweetly, before drawing away, whispering, "Well...there's nothing wrong with that."
"Annie..."
"I think you want to get something out of your system...something that's been in there a long time. And I'm more than game, so..."
She kissed him again, mouth nibbling at his gently, her hands still floating over him, not quite touching the parts of him that wanted to be touched most and he growled, his hands gripping her shoulders before moving upwards, his fingers threading through her hair, cupping the nape of her neck.
Jeff took control of the kiss, dominated it, his mouth feasting on hers and Annie whimpered triumphantly, letting him. Her fingers found the bottom of his shirt, drew it up and he helped her, stripping it off easily, tossing it aside.
Their mouths hardly left one another's, lips connected in one kiss after another even as they stripped themselves down. Jeff was more than happy to toss her cardigan aside, to cup her breasts through the ruffled, flimsy material of the blouse she wore beneath.
Annie's head fell back and she gasped his name, the action leaving her throat exposed so he could explore it with tongue and teeth. He nipped at her, sucking, licking, biting and she mewled, fingernails cutting into his back and arms.
He lifted her up onto the table, hitching up her skirt, finding her underwear, drawing it off and away, before he lowered her back to her feet and she looked at him with one raised eyebrow, "What are you-?"
"This is how I pictured it," he breathed huskily and immediately she understood. She undid the front buttons of blouse, then unhooked the front clasp of her bra. She turned her back to him, her palms resting on the table, "Is this how you want me?"
He didn't answer, unable to use words, instead he let his actions speak as he gently bent her low over the table, hiking her skirt up higher. She heard his zipper go down and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she gasped, "God, please, just...hurry..."
But Jeff didn't hurry, instead he reached forward, his fingers finding her first, slipping in gently, teasing her. Annie cried out, her whole being wired too tightly, back arching as she moved against his hand.
Eventually he drew away, his hands going around her, cupping her breasts as he thrust himself inside her, filling her. Annie let out a guttural sound of pleasure as she rocked back against him, urging him onwards
Jeff gripped her breasts tightly as he rode her, rhythm quickly established, words tumbling out of him that he didn't even recognize - something about how tight she was and how good it felt and her name over and over again, a chant, a mantra, a prayer, a curse.
And she encouraged him - saying things about how much she loved it, about how he was taking her, and his name...his name...
Almost everything she had done had been flawlessly scripted. He could sense the script - even when he had tried to ignore it, it had been there. Except for this. Except for his name on her lips...the way she said it...
It wasn't long before he came and he could feel her, coming apart around him. He collapsed against her back, breathing heavily, completion making him a cross between light-headed and drowsy.
He eventually drew away and started collecting himself, clothing returning to his body, everything going back to its' proper place.
She recovered much more quickly than him.
In fact she was dressed and ready to go almost instantly after it was over.
And that was...disheartening.
She found his jacket and he thought she was going to hand it to him, and she did, but not before swiftly checking the pockets and drawing out a plain white envelope. She opened it and quickly shuffled the dollars bills inside, calculating before she nodded, satisfied.
She withdrew the money, tucking it away as efficiently as she had the card from the other evening...same purse actually...he hadn't even noticed that she had entered with a purse. She drew out a purple pen and, taking the now empty envelope, she scribbled something down, handing it to him, "Just in case you want to call again. I change my number frequently, depending on the client. This line is permanent and for the more...reliable."
He took the envelope and she turned, she spoke over her shoulder and the sound of her tone made his heart seize, "Pleasure doing business with you."
And then she was gone.
Jeff looked at the envelope, looked at the number and then he crumpled it up into a ball, more than prepared to toss it into the trash. After all, he had got what he came for. It was over. Done. Finally.
But...
He smoothed out the envelope, looked at the number, at the neat, fine handwriting that hadn't changed, that couldn't change, that simply was...her...
He ran his fingers over it and cursed. He gently folded the envelope, sticking it back in his jacket pocket.
She was right.
Man was evil.
...but what was worse, man was weak.