fic; Community: and in the streets you run afree.
I HOPE SO MUCH COMMUNITY FIC COMES OUT OF YULETIDE THAT IT TAKES ME UNTIL PRESIDENTS DAY TO READ IT ALL.
title: and in the streets you run afree.
fandom: Community.
pairing: Jeff/Annie.
rating: PG-13?
words: 2602.
spoilers: Debate 109, a few general things for the whole series.
disclaimer: Fiction. I don't own anything here.
notes: Oh man, Community. This show is AMAZING. I started it shipping Jeff/Britta, but then Annie happened and now I love them both. I started a post Intro to Film fic like this, but, uh for Britta, but this one actually got done? So maybe that says something? Let's pretend I've figured out characterization.
Annie measures her moments like she used to measure her pills.
Five pills:
Two to get her through cramming for the geometry final
One for the actual exam
One for the football game Friday night -- (What if Troy goes down and she's the only one who knows CPR and she's not focused enough to do it? That can't happen. She takes one every game, even if he's hurt and benched.)
And one for Sunday afternoon to clean and cook and keep from crying.
She'll get more on Monday. She just has to stick to the schedule and she'll have enough.
When she parses things out now, it's touches, glances, smells. She'll use the feeling of Troy wrapped around her like a backpack to get through a visit with her Grandma. She'll use a compliment on her outfit from Britta to push past being surrounded by couples in the quad.
It's not the same high, the same rush, but it sustains her and sometimes she'll pop a Tylenol along with a memory and it'll be almost there.
The thing with Jeff, the kiss and the looks and his expensive cologne that somehow just smells nice not tacky, she hasn't even let herself touch that one.
It's like a brand new bottle of pills, a refilled prescription, she can take the first few without even counting, she has that many. But once it's opened, they're closer to being gone.
When she finally gets to it, she doesn't even mean to. A whole week has gone by. She's standing in the middle of J. Crew, toying with the edges of an Oxford and then it's there, zipping through her body like a pill that's finally dissolved.
The way the floor shook as Simmons' body hit the ground and the way her legs shook when Jeff wheeled around and grabbed her, kissing her, really kissing her.
She didn't even think about it right before she did it. She'd thought about it before, in the study room earlier, in class sometimes, the night after the Dia de los Muertos party, but this, it was just instinct. It was winning and not being a robot and, wow, he's tall.
The feelings slam into her so hard that she pulls a button off the shirt. Over the sound of it skittering across the floor, she hears herself say, "I'll pay for it."
She gets a gift receipt and sews the button back on at home. On Monday she totes the brown shopping bag to school, careful not to wrinkle any part of it.
The shirt's too long for Troy (although it would like really nice on him, that color blue) and probably not his style, but when she sees him in the cafeteria, she almost gives it to him anyway.
Troy's safe -- in the way that "safe" means somebody she's accustomed to wanting to give things to. (He's also safe in the way that she never had to worry about what to do if he wanted her, because, well, he didn't, as far as she could tell.)
She's halfway into thinking up a plausible reason that she bought Troy a too-big shirt when Jeff walks in. Strolls in. Swaggers in. A few hundred more SAT words skip by and then Jeff's at their table.
"Pierce said he'd go to my classes if I made sure everybody knew about his birthday and I've got several important naps to take, so," Jeff slides into a chair, "Pierce has a birthday."
Annie forgets about the shirt for a minute and feels something slip into place. Planning a party, planning anything, it's another way to get by.
"When is it?" She flips her notebook open.
"The terms of the agreement stipulated I inform people Pierce has a birthday. Done and done."
She barely even looks at him and hasn't said anything when he adds, "It's this week sometime. I think it's Thursday."
It's a little bit like those quiet concessions he makes for Britta, but Britta's not there and Annie realizes it's for her. It's a nice feeling. She locks it in her medicine cabinet.
She hangs on to the shirt all day even though she's around Jeff for hours during it. She's almost forgotten she's carrying it when he nods at the bag as they're walking toward the doors.
"Hot date later? Changing into a sultry merino wool blend?" He says it teasing, like friends tease each other, and even though it's been months, even though a lot has happened, even though high school is so over, she still looks to see if there's anybody around to notice that that the cool guy is talking to her.
"What? Oh, this? No, it's, uh." Focus, Annie. Be confident. Don't make this seem weird or he'll think it's weird.
"It's for you."
"For me?" Jeff looks genuinely surprised.
She hands him the bag and he takes the shirt out.
"This is, uh, this is a nice shirt, Annie." It's still friendly, still nice, but she's not sure what to say.
"Yes. I got it. For. You." Less robot. Be less of a robot.
Something flashes across his face and she's trying to keep up and process it, but then it's gone.
"Is this about my living in my car? Because I don't anymore. I have clean clothes."
If she had dated more, if she had dated ever really, maybe she'd be able to pull that apart and understand it. But instead she goes through the words like they're on a test. She knows what they mean, but what do they mean? Is he offended?
"Oh, I know. It's -- it's a thank you. For the debate thing. I couldn't have done it without you."
"Yeah, kissing your arm wouldn't have been as effective," and he raises his own arm to his mouth, like he's going to show her.
For a second it reminds her of the ninth grade, practicing kissing just like that -- in the crook of her elbow, sad and alone, but then she's struck by how goofy what he just did looked. That's her favorite time with Jeff, when he lets it all drop and stops thinking about what everybody's thinking of him.
She laughs and watches as he hikes his guard back up before they reach the exit.
"Thanks for the shirt, Annie." He gives her a hug and while it's nice, it's the brief awkwardness she sees on him right before he does it that makes her smile the whole way home. (She takes it in greedily, not thinking about when she'll need it, using the whole memory up right there.)
The first thing she does the next morning is tell Pierce they're throwing him a, ahem, 40th birthday party in the student center on Thursday.
The next thing she does is tell Jeff.
She's expecting a fight, but he just says, "I'll be there, put me down for two bags of ice and a sleeve of cups."
It's the exact same thing she told him to bring last time and her heart slips down into her stomach and stays there. Then he winks, and she swallows her tongue.
In Spanish class, they deliver their oral presentations -- Spanish translations of English songs.
Britta announces she picked a Smiths' song, Un Tipo Encantador, and smirks.
Annie figures it out first, This Charming Man, and turns to Jeff, figuring he'll be watching Britta.
He's looking at her instead.
(When she gets home that night she translates, Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want -- just for practice, of course.)
The day of Pierce's birthday party, Annie picks out a merino wool blend and feels foolish all morning, until she sees Jeff wearing his new shirt.
She gets caught day dreaming in psychology, but it doesn't matter because she's already swallowed down the way Jeff had pointed at his shirt, smiling and proud. She stays buzzed, bouncing off the walls, until the party starts.
She doesn't actually remember planning that much of the party, the whole week is a blur, like a bender, like finals week, and so, although she doesn't recall getting clearance from the dean for it, she lets the keg Troy is trying to tap in the corner slide.
Pierce is lurking just outside the far doors, waiting, presumably, for more people to come in -- Annie knows that look. But it doesn't end up like that, within an hour the student center is as full as it ever gets and Pierce is telling everybody what he's going to do now that he's, ahem, 40.
Annie refills the punch bowl, ignoring the overwhelming smell of cheap liquor coming from it. She watches Jeff talk with Troy as Britta and Shirley dance around them to some '80s mash up. Shirley's making big, distracting movements with her arms, but Annie's eyes keep going back to Jeff. He notices her across the room and lifts his cup.
She's packing the look on his face up into a little capsule when Abed's at her side.
"It's rumored that the original ending to 'Pretty in Pink' had Molly Ringwald's character, Andie, end up with Jon Cryer's character, Duckie, instead of Blane, played by Andrew McCarthy. Although footage of the original ending has not been released and Molly Ringwald has said it wouldn't have worked, many fans still believe that Duckie was the better choice for Andie, romantically."
She looks at him slowly, putting together all the words. It's not that she can't keep up with him, it's just, did Abed just come out as Team Annie? Is there a Team Annie?
Not missing a beat, as if he'd said something in between, Abed says, "Plus, Britta's blonde and you have dark hair, so." And then he's gone.
Annie uses the lifted cup moment from a few minutes ago to get herself across the room and near her -- friends.
(Little Annie Adderall has friends. She never wants to go back.)
A slower song she doesn't recognize has started and over the din of the party, Annie can hear Pierce yell out, "Remember this song?!" And then quieter, quickly, "Me neither!"
Troy turns to her and she thinks he's going to ask her to dance, but Shirley scoops him up. Before she drags him onto the dance floor, she leans into Annie, "She had her chance," nodding at Britta, "It's your turn now, girl! Get 'em!" She shoves Annie hard toward Jeff, who catches her.
"Last time I was holding somebody up, I dropped them, so you're taking a real risk here, fair warning" Jeff's looking down at her, a tiny little smile on his face, the one she knows he thinks makes seem him endearing. She's seen him use it on Britta plenty of times.
She straightens herself up, "Well, you were horny and man is evil, you can't be blamed."
She doesn't realize just quite what she's said until Jeff sputters, coughing.
He recovers quickly, but she's already mortified, turning to go before he stops her with a hand on her arm.
"No, no, you're right. I heard a pretty convincing argument in favor of that very theory just the other day."
Annie smiles huge, the one that used to be a dead giveaway she'd taken an extra pill.
His hand is still on her arm when he says, "Dance?"
She nods and turns into him. She tries to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, but he's just too tall, her hands end up high on chest, near his shoulders. Everything's muscle and bone and expensive J. Crew Oxford cloth. When his hands land on her hips, it's pretty clear that Jeff is a man. He's older and...man-sized and nothing she can keep in check. Nothing she can fix. It makes her feel laser focused and completely out of control at the same time.
When she looks up to see his face, he's already watching her and then they're back to the study room or the debate floor or the exit to the building. Of all the words she knows, she can't think of one perfect one to call what's going on when this keeps happening. Electric or tense or charged or -- none of them are right.
She sees Troy out of the corner of her eye and decides to just go with "awesome" instead.
Part of why she kept backing off were all the logical reasons to, like Britta and everyone else and the group dynamic and staying focused on not getting expelled, but she's spent enough time with just herself over the years to know all the illogical ones, too. Reasons like, she has no idea what she's doing, how to do it, what it means.
If it's up to her to break the moment this time, she's not going to do it -- if the moment she's in is worthwhile, she doesn't have to keep going back to old ones.
Jeff's hands tighten on her waist and he just keeps staring at her. They're not even moving, not dancing, and the song fades into another one before she gets it. If it's her moment to break, it's her moment to make, too. (She's going to write that down when she gets home, it sounds inspirational.)
He's hesitant over something as well, and she flies through what his reasons could be -- her age, Britta. That's all she comes up with.
And he's not looking at her eyes anymore, he's looking at her mouth.
She goes up on her tiptoes, like she did during the debate, but she's not going to grab his face this time, this isn't going to be just because he's -- horny. It's going to be about her, damn it.
Her tiny little step is apparently all he needed because suddenly his head is dipping and they're kissing again, just as intense as before and, she realizes faintly, with just as many people watching.
Her whole life has been about what people think of her and she's just not going to care right now. Jeff's mouth is open slightly and she sweeps her tongue inside, high enough up on her tiptoes to actually wrap her arms around his neck now.
His arms wrap tight around her waist, lifting her up just the slightest bit, so they're close to being even and then his tongue is inside her mouth. She has no frame of reference for this kind of kiss, no buzz to compare it to. As they go back and forth, his teeth nipping at her lip and her tongue wrestling with his, as her hands wind into his hair, the best she can come up with is a -- a debate.
Jeff makes a noise in the back of his throat and she feels it more than hears it, but it's enough to make her notice the music has stopped.
He must notice at the same time because he drops her back to the ground, not hard, but not quite gracefully either -- though his hands stay on her hips.
Pierce yells out, "But it's MY birthday!" And Annie snaps back into place.
Jeff's face looks shell-shocked and red, but in a good way. She scans around the room, Shirley doing a small, little, silent clap, Troy gaping, Britta with a wholly unreadable expression.
After that, she stops saving moments and starts making out with Jeff in classrooms.
In Abed's next film, there's a cardboard cut out of Jon Cryer in the background. Annie can't quite tell, but he appears to be wearing a crown.
&&.
title: and in the streets you run afree.
fandom: Community.
pairing: Jeff/Annie.
rating: PG-13?
words: 2602.
spoilers: Debate 109, a few general things for the whole series.
disclaimer: Fiction. I don't own anything here.
notes: Oh man, Community. This show is AMAZING. I started it shipping Jeff/Britta, but then Annie happened and now I love them both. I started a post Intro to Film fic like this, but, uh for Britta, but this one actually got done? So maybe that says something? Let's pretend I've figured out characterization.
Annie measures her moments like she used to measure her pills.
Five pills:
Two to get her through cramming for the geometry final
One for the actual exam
One for the football game Friday night -- (What if Troy goes down and she's the only one who knows CPR and she's not focused enough to do it? That can't happen. She takes one every game, even if he's hurt and benched.)
And one for Sunday afternoon to clean and cook and keep from crying.
She'll get more on Monday. She just has to stick to the schedule and she'll have enough.
When she parses things out now, it's touches, glances, smells. She'll use the feeling of Troy wrapped around her like a backpack to get through a visit with her Grandma. She'll use a compliment on her outfit from Britta to push past being surrounded by couples in the quad.
It's not the same high, the same rush, but it sustains her and sometimes she'll pop a Tylenol along with a memory and it'll be almost there.
The thing with Jeff, the kiss and the looks and his expensive cologne that somehow just smells nice not tacky, she hasn't even let herself touch that one.
It's like a brand new bottle of pills, a refilled prescription, she can take the first few without even counting, she has that many. But once it's opened, they're closer to being gone.
When she finally gets to it, she doesn't even mean to. A whole week has gone by. She's standing in the middle of J. Crew, toying with the edges of an Oxford and then it's there, zipping through her body like a pill that's finally dissolved.
The way the floor shook as Simmons' body hit the ground and the way her legs shook when Jeff wheeled around and grabbed her, kissing her, really kissing her.
She didn't even think about it right before she did it. She'd thought about it before, in the study room earlier, in class sometimes, the night after the Dia de los Muertos party, but this, it was just instinct. It was winning and not being a robot and, wow, he's tall.
The feelings slam into her so hard that she pulls a button off the shirt. Over the sound of it skittering across the floor, she hears herself say, "I'll pay for it."
She gets a gift receipt and sews the button back on at home. On Monday she totes the brown shopping bag to school, careful not to wrinkle any part of it.
The shirt's too long for Troy (although it would like really nice on him, that color blue) and probably not his style, but when she sees him in the cafeteria, she almost gives it to him anyway.
Troy's safe -- in the way that "safe" means somebody she's accustomed to wanting to give things to. (He's also safe in the way that she never had to worry about what to do if he wanted her, because, well, he didn't, as far as she could tell.)
She's halfway into thinking up a plausible reason that she bought Troy a too-big shirt when Jeff walks in. Strolls in. Swaggers in. A few hundred more SAT words skip by and then Jeff's at their table.
"Pierce said he'd go to my classes if I made sure everybody knew about his birthday and I've got several important naps to take, so," Jeff slides into a chair, "Pierce has a birthday."
Annie forgets about the shirt for a minute and feels something slip into place. Planning a party, planning anything, it's another way to get by.
"When is it?" She flips her notebook open.
"The terms of the agreement stipulated I inform people Pierce has a birthday. Done and done."
She barely even looks at him and hasn't said anything when he adds, "It's this week sometime. I think it's Thursday."
It's a little bit like those quiet concessions he makes for Britta, but Britta's not there and Annie realizes it's for her. It's a nice feeling. She locks it in her medicine cabinet.
She hangs on to the shirt all day even though she's around Jeff for hours during it. She's almost forgotten she's carrying it when he nods at the bag as they're walking toward the doors.
"Hot date later? Changing into a sultry merino wool blend?" He says it teasing, like friends tease each other, and even though it's been months, even though a lot has happened, even though high school is so over, she still looks to see if there's anybody around to notice that that the cool guy is talking to her.
"What? Oh, this? No, it's, uh." Focus, Annie. Be confident. Don't make this seem weird or he'll think it's weird.
"It's for you."
"For me?" Jeff looks genuinely surprised.
She hands him the bag and he takes the shirt out.
"This is, uh, this is a nice shirt, Annie." It's still friendly, still nice, but she's not sure what to say.
"Yes. I got it. For. You." Less robot. Be less of a robot.
Something flashes across his face and she's trying to keep up and process it, but then it's gone.
"Is this about my living in my car? Because I don't anymore. I have clean clothes."
If she had dated more, if she had dated ever really, maybe she'd be able to pull that apart and understand it. But instead she goes through the words like they're on a test. She knows what they mean, but what do they mean? Is he offended?
"Oh, I know. It's -- it's a thank you. For the debate thing. I couldn't have done it without you."
"Yeah, kissing your arm wouldn't have been as effective," and he raises his own arm to his mouth, like he's going to show her.
For a second it reminds her of the ninth grade, practicing kissing just like that -- in the crook of her elbow, sad and alone, but then she's struck by how goofy what he just did looked. That's her favorite time with Jeff, when he lets it all drop and stops thinking about what everybody's thinking of him.
She laughs and watches as he hikes his guard back up before they reach the exit.
"Thanks for the shirt, Annie." He gives her a hug and while it's nice, it's the brief awkwardness she sees on him right before he does it that makes her smile the whole way home. (She takes it in greedily, not thinking about when she'll need it, using the whole memory up right there.)
The first thing she does the next morning is tell Pierce they're throwing him a, ahem, 40th birthday party in the student center on Thursday.
The next thing she does is tell Jeff.
She's expecting a fight, but he just says, "I'll be there, put me down for two bags of ice and a sleeve of cups."
It's the exact same thing she told him to bring last time and her heart slips down into her stomach and stays there. Then he winks, and she swallows her tongue.
In Spanish class, they deliver their oral presentations -- Spanish translations of English songs.
Britta announces she picked a Smiths' song, Un Tipo Encantador, and smirks.
Annie figures it out first, This Charming Man, and turns to Jeff, figuring he'll be watching Britta.
He's looking at her instead.
(When she gets home that night she translates, Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want -- just for practice, of course.)
The day of Pierce's birthday party, Annie picks out a merino wool blend and feels foolish all morning, until she sees Jeff wearing his new shirt.
She gets caught day dreaming in psychology, but it doesn't matter because she's already swallowed down the way Jeff had pointed at his shirt, smiling and proud. She stays buzzed, bouncing off the walls, until the party starts.
She doesn't actually remember planning that much of the party, the whole week is a blur, like a bender, like finals week, and so, although she doesn't recall getting clearance from the dean for it, she lets the keg Troy is trying to tap in the corner slide.
Pierce is lurking just outside the far doors, waiting, presumably, for more people to come in -- Annie knows that look. But it doesn't end up like that, within an hour the student center is as full as it ever gets and Pierce is telling everybody what he's going to do now that he's, ahem, 40.
Annie refills the punch bowl, ignoring the overwhelming smell of cheap liquor coming from it. She watches Jeff talk with Troy as Britta and Shirley dance around them to some '80s mash up. Shirley's making big, distracting movements with her arms, but Annie's eyes keep going back to Jeff. He notices her across the room and lifts his cup.
She's packing the look on his face up into a little capsule when Abed's at her side.
"It's rumored that the original ending to 'Pretty in Pink' had Molly Ringwald's character, Andie, end up with Jon Cryer's character, Duckie, instead of Blane, played by Andrew McCarthy. Although footage of the original ending has not been released and Molly Ringwald has said it wouldn't have worked, many fans still believe that Duckie was the better choice for Andie, romantically."
She looks at him slowly, putting together all the words. It's not that she can't keep up with him, it's just, did Abed just come out as Team Annie? Is there a Team Annie?
Not missing a beat, as if he'd said something in between, Abed says, "Plus, Britta's blonde and you have dark hair, so." And then he's gone.
Annie uses the lifted cup moment from a few minutes ago to get herself across the room and near her -- friends.
(Little Annie Adderall has friends. She never wants to go back.)
A slower song she doesn't recognize has started and over the din of the party, Annie can hear Pierce yell out, "Remember this song?!" And then quieter, quickly, "Me neither!"
Troy turns to her and she thinks he's going to ask her to dance, but Shirley scoops him up. Before she drags him onto the dance floor, she leans into Annie, "She had her chance," nodding at Britta, "It's your turn now, girl! Get 'em!" She shoves Annie hard toward Jeff, who catches her.
"Last time I was holding somebody up, I dropped them, so you're taking a real risk here, fair warning" Jeff's looking down at her, a tiny little smile on his face, the one she knows he thinks makes seem him endearing. She's seen him use it on Britta plenty of times.
She straightens herself up, "Well, you were horny and man is evil, you can't be blamed."
She doesn't realize just quite what she's said until Jeff sputters, coughing.
He recovers quickly, but she's already mortified, turning to go before he stops her with a hand on her arm.
"No, no, you're right. I heard a pretty convincing argument in favor of that very theory just the other day."
Annie smiles huge, the one that used to be a dead giveaway she'd taken an extra pill.
His hand is still on her arm when he says, "Dance?"
She nods and turns into him. She tries to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, but he's just too tall, her hands end up high on chest, near his shoulders. Everything's muscle and bone and expensive J. Crew Oxford cloth. When his hands land on her hips, it's pretty clear that Jeff is a man. He's older and...man-sized and nothing she can keep in check. Nothing she can fix. It makes her feel laser focused and completely out of control at the same time.
When she looks up to see his face, he's already watching her and then they're back to the study room or the debate floor or the exit to the building. Of all the words she knows, she can't think of one perfect one to call what's going on when this keeps happening. Electric or tense or charged or -- none of them are right.
She sees Troy out of the corner of her eye and decides to just go with "awesome" instead.
Part of why she kept backing off were all the logical reasons to, like Britta and everyone else and the group dynamic and staying focused on not getting expelled, but she's spent enough time with just herself over the years to know all the illogical ones, too. Reasons like, she has no idea what she's doing, how to do it, what it means.
If it's up to her to break the moment this time, she's not going to do it -- if the moment she's in is worthwhile, she doesn't have to keep going back to old ones.
Jeff's hands tighten on her waist and he just keeps staring at her. They're not even moving, not dancing, and the song fades into another one before she gets it. If it's her moment to break, it's her moment to make, too. (She's going to write that down when she gets home, it sounds inspirational.)
He's hesitant over something as well, and she flies through what his reasons could be -- her age, Britta. That's all she comes up with.
And he's not looking at her eyes anymore, he's looking at her mouth.
She goes up on her tiptoes, like she did during the debate, but she's not going to grab his face this time, this isn't going to be just because he's -- horny. It's going to be about her, damn it.
Her tiny little step is apparently all he needed because suddenly his head is dipping and they're kissing again, just as intense as before and, she realizes faintly, with just as many people watching.
Her whole life has been about what people think of her and she's just not going to care right now. Jeff's mouth is open slightly and she sweeps her tongue inside, high enough up on her tiptoes to actually wrap her arms around his neck now.
His arms wrap tight around her waist, lifting her up just the slightest bit, so they're close to being even and then his tongue is inside her mouth. She has no frame of reference for this kind of kiss, no buzz to compare it to. As they go back and forth, his teeth nipping at her lip and her tongue wrestling with his, as her hands wind into his hair, the best she can come up with is a -- a debate.
Jeff makes a noise in the back of his throat and she feels it more than hears it, but it's enough to make her notice the music has stopped.
He must notice at the same time because he drops her back to the ground, not hard, but not quite gracefully either -- though his hands stay on her hips.
Pierce yells out, "But it's MY birthday!" And Annie snaps back into place.
Jeff's face looks shell-shocked and red, but in a good way. She scans around the room, Shirley doing a small, little, silent clap, Troy gaping, Britta with a wholly unreadable expression.
After that, she stops saving moments and starts making out with Jeff in classrooms.
In Abed's next film, there's a cardboard cut out of Jon Cryer in the background. Annie can't quite tell, but he appears to be wearing a crown.
&&.