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5 Clichés That Didn't Lead To A Kiss and 1 That Di	By : sinecure Category: 1 through F > Community Views: 1500 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Community and I make no money off of it.

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"It's chicken soup," Shirley told the room, though only Britta, Annie, and Abed were there with her. "I'm going to take it to Jeff during lunch." She grinned, pleased with herself, and patted the container lid like the top of a child's head.
Annie let her shoulders droop the slightest bit, unfounded guilt swimming through her.
"That was a freaky storm, right?" Britta said, eyes on her hands as she knitted... something. Annie didn't know what the heck it was, but it was red and blue and looked like a little Spider-Man outfit. For her cat?
"It was like the wrath of god come down to Greendale," Shirley added with a fierce nod. "I thought for a minute there'd be a plague of locusts."
"It was weird," Abed agreed and Annie glanced at him.
He was watching her. Why was he watching her? His head was tilted, watching her and- no. Observing her.
That was scary, no matter how she looked at it, because observant-Abed knew things. Things other people didn't know, or realize, or want to know because then things would come up and get in the way of perfectly good friendships and feelings might pop up, making themselves known, even though she'd tamped them down tight and- and-
Abed was still watching her.
"Can you believe Mr. 'I am so virile, I impregnate women with a single look from ten miles away' got sick?" Britta held her little outfit thing on the tabletop and smoothed it out, examining a few stitches. She looked as bored as the rest of them without... certain people there.
"You know, I think he's just going by Jeff now. And, why did you say that in your robot voice?"
Britta looked up quickly. "I don't know." She sank lower in her chair, avoiding looking at any of them.
Ignoring the obvious analysis, Annie tried not to look at Abed, but she was unable to look completely away. Her eyelashes fluttered to her cheeks, eyes watching him underneath them. "And he's human just like the rest of us," she told Britta, feeling a twinge of guilt resurfacing.
Why did she feel guilty? It wasn't her fault he'd had to go in the dunk tank with the dean. He could've just said no.
Britta picked up her ridiculously long needles and began moving them quickly again. "Sure, if the rest of us were ten feet tall."
Annie smiled the tiniest bit. Jeff was tall.
"And as handsome as the devil," Shirley added, ignoring her open study book in front of her.
Annie's smile grew, but then dropped away when she saw Abed's interest deepen.
Oh, no.
Abed's knowledge was dangerous. She couldn't let him know... anything. Feelings. Friendship! Danger, Will Robinson, danger!
Rolling her eyes at herself, she vowed to stop spending so much time watching old TV shows with Troy and Abed. She shifted in her seat, pretending nothing was wrong and that Abed wasn't freaking her out. He didn't know anything.
All he knew was that Jeff was sick and blamed Annie for being that way.
A sudden windstorm had risen after an hour of dunking-all by the basketball team members-taking everyone by surprise. Annie'd just been about to close her booth for a break-and not at all to go take a peek at Jeff in his Speedos-when it hit; she'd lost her booth. Britta's money had all blown away.
Jeff and the dean got sick.
And Annie hadn't gotten to see Jeff in a Speedo, which was a much bigger crime than her supposed guilt.
Now, on top of all that guilt about him getting sick, there was the fear of someone knowing she had a teeny, tiny sliver of feelings for Jeff. Miniscule, really.
Still watching her.
Damn it, Abed!
"This is nice of you, Shirley." She nodded at the Tupperware container between them, trying to draw Abed's attention away from her. "Taking Jeff some soup, I mean."
"Yeah, that's sweet. You know he'll probably just throw it in the trash, don't you? You know him and carbs." Britta was so wrapped up in her knitting that she didn't see the looks Annie and Shirley sent her.
"I'm sure Jeff'll love it," Annie stressed before smiling at Shirley.
Shirley's phone rang and Annie returned her attention back to her book as Shirley dug through the purse on her lap. But her eyes wouldn't focus on the pages. What was she even studying?
Shirley answered her phone in her usual sweet voice. "Helloooo?"
The words swam before Annie's eyes, blurring as her mind began to wander. Was Jeff all right? Did he have a fever? Was he in dire need of Shirley's soup? He was probably cool even with a cold, lounging around in red, silk pajamas complete with a handkerchief in the pocket. He'd smell of lemons and honey and tea. There'd be a sexy flush to his skin, but not too heated, and-
Shaking herself, she forced her attention back to the book on the table in front of her, feeling the crisp, cool pages. Paper and ink. A return to sanity.
Her eyes wandered to Jeff's chair, and she felt an odd sense of emptiness. It'd only been three days. She'd gone months without seeing him after their kiss at the Tranny Dance, surely she could go a weekend and a school day.
Slamming her book shut, she sighed. She missed Jeff, but she missed the rest of the group too. Not just him. He was a jerk anyway. He'd stalked over to her after getting out of the tank, shivering, trying very hard not to look like he was. His eyes had glowed with a storm that rivaled the freak wind as he glared at her. Wrapped up in a blue Snuggie.
"Your. Fault."
Like she'd made the storm happen.
He was a jerk. She had nothing to feel guilty about. He shouldn't have dragged her with him, that was all.
Three days without him? She could do three months.
...okay, maybe three weeks, because she liked the way he smiled, and the way he smelled, and the way he smirked. And. And. And.
Glancing around the table, she noticed how sad their little group was.
Troy was in class, Jeff was home sick, Pierce had mumbled something about a new student in her 60s... or from the 60s? And the rest of them were listless and uninspired. They hadn't even tried studying, and good, god, if Abed didn't stop watching her she'd scream.
She straightened in her seat, smoothing her hair down.
It was silly to get so worked up about Abed and his crazy, crazy knowledge of all things everyone.
"All right, baby. Mama will be there soon." Shirley hung up and started gathering her books. "Elijah got into a fight at school. I have to go pick him up. And beat his behind." She grabbed the soup and went still. "Oh, no. Jeffrey's soup. I can't take it to him now." Her eyes fell on Britta, who was fighting with the red yarn. Or maybe that was how one knitted? Abed blinked at her, briefly taking his attention off of Annie, though Annie didn't feel any less under observation.
"Annie should do it," Abed told Shirley.
Annie gasped under her breath-he didn't know!-and tried to make a quick exit. "I should-"
But Shirley's guilt was fast and far-reaching. "Annie? If you'd be so kind as to take Jeffrey this soup I made him, I'd be very grateful." Her voice was so sweet. So pleading. So thick with guilt aimed at Annie. "He's sick. He needs lots of hot liquids and vitamins."
"Uh, Shirley, I'd... love to-"
"Oh, thank you, Annie!" Shirley clapped happily and grinned, then pushed the soup toward Annie.
"I'd like to," Annie started again, stressing the words. "But I really need to study."
Shirley's smile fell like a lead ball from a rooftop. "Now, I know you're not saying studying's more important than a sick friend. Especially after you made him sick."
Annie gasped loudly. "Why does everyone keep blaming me? I didn't do anything! And he could've said no." Seeing it was a lost cause because Shirley was already on to other things, she pouted and muttered a quick, "Fine." Shoving her book into her bag, she glanced at the sloshing container then grabbed it. "Fine. I'll take Jeff your soup and I'll probably get sick, but that's okay, because, apparently, I'm a horrible, terrible person for letting Jeff drag me along so he could get caught or whatever."
"Thank you," Shirley cooed with satisfaction.
Annie stared after her with a loud scoff then turned her glare to Abed.
"This is interesting," Abed muttered to himself as Troy walked in, singing and spinning.
"Butt soup in the what-what. Gonna make it in the butt-butt."
Fearing what Abed found so interesting, Annie sighed and left Abed alone with his deep thoughts. And Britta and Troy.

********

Annie did a last minute check of her skirt and blouse before raising her hand to knock on Jeff's door. Why she bothered, she didn't know, but... well, she did it anyway.
Hardly a second went by before the door was jerked open.
No red, silk pajamas with gray piping and a white handkerchief in the pocket; Jeff looked horrible. He had actual bed-hair, not just the artful kind. His clothes looked hastily put together and thrown on... after having sat in a corner on the floor of his closet for two months. His skin was pasty and damp and flushed with fever, but not in a sexy way. It just made her feel hot and uncomfortable.
It was with some relief that she said, "Oh, Jeff. You look terrible."
"Gee, thanks, Annie." He fell into a coughing fit, making her wince in sympathy. Her throat hurt with each wracking cough. Once he'd regained his breath and his control, he straightened up, trying to look healthy, which came off about as well as a drunk trying to look sober. "I told Shirley not to-" He coughed again, but quickly regained control. "I was just on my way to class."
Disbelief coursed through her; he looked like a tree ready to topple over. "No, you're not." Holding Shirley's soup up between them, she grinned, trying to ignore the fact that his voice, while always a little sexy, was now really sexy. And that was the only concession she'd allow.
Thank god Abed wasn't there to observe her some more.
"I brought soup! Shirley made it, but she had to go get Elijah because he got into a fight at school and Britta was knitting something really weird-I think it's a Halloween costume for her cat-and Abed was... well, we don't want to talk about that. So, I was nominated to bring this to you."
She grinned wider when he merely blinked at her, swaying in place like a breeze had cropped up in the forest.
"And, now, I have. So."
Holding it out to him, she waited. And waited. A few seconds later, he grabbed it and held it to his chest. Slow responses.
Her inner mother hen took over and banished the awkwardness and annoyance. "Seriously, Jeff. You don't look well. You should go to bed."
He straightened again, but still looked hunched as his eyes narrowed on her. "Please. I'm not that sick. I'm as healthy as a very hearty equine. I'll be fine. Let's get to class."
Annie tilted her head to the side, stepping into the apartment with a quick glance around; tasteful and clean, not at all unpleasant. She'd half expected leopard print rugs before a huge fireplace and used condom wrappers littering the tables. "Jeff, you're sick, it's okay to be wea-"
His eyes narrowed on her again.
"I wasn't going to say weak. I was going to say... it's okay to be... less hearty than usual. It's not a big deal. Everyone gets sick, it's sort of a fact of life." He looked like he wanted to argue, but she didn't think he had the energy.
He was leaning against the door, trying to look like he wasn't, but she saw his hands shake, saw how weak he was and took the soup from him before he dropped it.
"You wouldn't make it through the afternoon," she said baldly, hoping to talk some kind of sense into him.
"Annie, maybe the rest of the world gets sick, but I don't. I never once called in sick at work and I'm not about to do it at Greendale of all places."
Rolling her eyes, she smiled encouragingly. "Look at it like a teeny, tiny little vacation. A chance to goof off. You like goofing off. No homework, no studying... although, I did bring your assignment for Anthropology. It's another diorama-shocker-about-"
Jeff huffed and slammed the door shut, grabbing her arm. "I'll show you weak." He leaned down toward her, mouth too close for her comfort by the time she realized what he was doing.
She jumped back, slapping him on the chest. "Ew, Jeff. Gross! You're- you're sweaty and trembling and feverish and about to fall on your butt. Stop trying to be macho and just rest."
Was it really, really sick and horrible of her that, despite the fact that he was sick and she could feel the heat pouring off of him in waves, despite his clammy-looking skin and bloodshot eyes... she still wanted him to kiss her? It was horrible. She was a horrible person. But she wanted to feel his lips again. Feel his skin brush against hers. And feel his hand in her hair as he hauled her body to his.
The night of the Tranny Dance was firmly stuck in her mind for so many good, and bad, reasons. But the greatest one was that, after she'd kissed him briefly, experimentally, he'd not only kissed her back, but he'd kissed her fully, hauling her to him with a sound she'd never hear before or since. And she wanted to.
But only from Jeff.
Just not now, not like this. So, she ignored his attempt at proving his virility and strength. She pretended it hadn't happened. Because, if she didn't, she'd say or do something she'd regret.
Jeff scoffed and moved past her, toward the door. "Whatever."
Shaking her head, relieved that he didn't seem to feel the same awkwardness from his attempted kiss as she did, Annie headed into the kitchen with his soup. "It's Monday Jeff, your last class of the day ended eight minutes ago."
He groaned loudly and shuffled to the couch before dropping onto it with a pathetic whimper. If only he could keep this up forever, then she might be able to fight off her attraction to him for good.
"Your. Fault."
Annie sighed during her search for a pot. "You could've said no."
Jeff's head dropped to the back of the couch.
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5 Clichés That Didn't Lead To A Kiss and 1 That Di