A/N: Written off of a one-word prompt 'charm.' It was supposed to be just a few sentences but... well, here you go
Disclaimer: Not mine, Community belongs to NBC unfortunately..
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Greendale was a mess. Literally. Torn to shreds and pelted with various colors of the residue of war. Or in other words: they were in the middle of their annual paintball assassin game. The first year, the Dean had put it on without knowing what would ensue, second year was the war with City College, this year the Dean was willing to let the inevitable happen. He even played along. Prohibition theme was just too hard to resist dressing up for the Dean, or anyone for that matter.
The dress Annie had worn might've been a little too long without heels. It dragged on the ground and inch behind her when she walked, but damn did it look good. She felt incredibly classy white, draped cocktail gown. The hair was slightly array for her to look like she was at a cocktail party, more like a war zone (which she was), but her carnation was still pinned up where it was supposed to be. To move with more stealth, she'd ripped a slit in the side, much to her own personal dismay if she ever wanted to dress for 1920s cocktail party. Oh well, sacrifices in war.
Apparently not stealthy enough, Annie thought as she heard quiet footsteps from behind her in the not-so-deserted hallway. The green gun in her hand led her spin until she faced her next victim. A yellow gun of the same make was mirroring hers. Same as her white cocktail dress, he was untouched by paint; his suit was crisp and clean, shined formal shoes, even the hat looked era-esque. Abed actually looked like he was about to smuggle some illegal moonshine.
"Little late for a pretty thing like you to be floating around, doll," He said, his voice settled in the character he was playing for the game. Annie was getting major Don Draper vibes coming off him in waves. She smirked.
"You think a 'dainty dame' like me can't take care of myself?" Her eyes glanced towards her gun to make that point clear.
Beneath the brim of his hat, Abed's eyebrows raised, Oh, I know what you're capable of, doll. Seen you in action. Some people, they just don't know that the most beautiful, graceful ones are the most deadly."
Annie's smirked widened into a smile. She holstered her gun as he did the same. Glancing at the floor while she stepped forward, she looked when their faces were much closer.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me," She said softly, inches away from Abed's freshly shaven skin. Honestly, Annie would've been happy to repeat the last year's paintball finale, minus the orange rain that took two hair washes to get completely out. The whole noir plot they were doing seemed to be going in that direction.
Abed sighed against her face, not helping her desire to lean forward three inches, "Oh, darlin', as much as I would love to sweep you away from this hell hole, you'd never come. That much I know. Don't patronize me. I know what's really important to you. You love the business, the thrill, more than me. It took me a long time to realize that, but it's the harsh, cold truth."
The drama was a twist to the story, but a lot of those old noir movies had really cliché plots like that. She could play along easily.
Gripping the lapels of his jacket, Annie cried as if she were in black and white, "That's a lie, Abed! I'm in the business for you, to keep us safe from...the rival moonshiner. The moonshine, the smuggling, it means nothing to me compared to you! I've only ever loved you!"
"Damn it! Don't lie to me anymore, Annie," Abed said, trying to push her away, but she held firm. Her hands were probably wrinkling the beautiful suit. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. Oh, roleplaying with Abed was so much fun!
"No, listen to me! Only now in this bloody war can I see what truly matters. And that's you, dear. You matter more than moonshine, or cigarettes, or breathin', or livin'. More than anythin'."
Abed was suddenly clutching her face between his long hands, his fingers cool against her skin. It was jarring enough to almost bring her back to reality, but she shooed that away, Annie didn't want to leave their weird little overly dramatic story. Not just yet. His hands circled to the back of her neck and nudged her softly forwards. Annie's eyes shut in sweet anticipation. She'd been unconsciously waiting all year for the fictionally tangible moment that was about to happen. Annie was just glad there was nothings involving sprinklers that time.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
The three shots pelting her in the back was a rude interruption of a perfect moment. The had been so close, just a couple centimeters away. On the brightside, Abed nailed the assailant with one blow. Might as well go out with a bang, Annie though as she slowly slid to the floor.
"I'm not gonna make it this time, Abed," Annie stuttered in a falsely weak voice. "Before you go on, take this," she reached up, adding a nice tremor to her hand as she unclasped the flower from her hair.
"R-remember me."
In one hand Abed took the carnation gently. The cold fingers of his opposite hand found her 'dying face,' "Always. I Love you deeper that the deep blue sea, darlin'."
Taking in a little gasp, Annie squeaked, "I-I lov.." and her head fell soft to the ground, cushioned by Abed's hand.
Leaning forward, Abed laid a kiss on Annie's forehead. Not quite the epic, paint-splashing down-on their-faces kiss she was hoping for, but just as sweet and equally lingering, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'll win this for you, doll."
Acting as if he were brushing away falling tears, Abed pulled Annie's green gun from her belt holster around her waist.
"See you at home," Annie called as Abed walked away down the all. Abed raised a thumbs-up in reply.
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A/N: I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated, thanks
