This fic takes place early season 3, sometime after 3.02 and before 3.04.
"Did you know that there's a class on Nic Cage movies?" Abed said, setting down his lunch tray. "Jeff and I are both in it. He was taking it as a blow-off class. He got a little annoyed at first when he learned the course was far more intense than what he'd originally signed up for, but over time he grew to have a real appreciation for Con Air. We're going to screen Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans if either of you are interested."
He noticed that neither woman was paying him any attention. He scooted onto the seat next to Britta. She had a salad and a bowl of celery sticks. Shirley sat across from them with a plate full of fried and chicken strips, same as what Abed had. They had their heads turned toward the cafeteria door, which was propped wide open. Their eyes riveted. Abed turned to follow their line of sight.
Ah. Of course.
"Do you think they know we're watching?" asked Britta in an almost whisper. She snapped the celery stick that had been part way in her mouth, chewing noisily.
Jeff and Annie were at it again. They were down the corridor just outside the cafeteria. Jeff was wearing tight jeans and an untucked dark blue T-shirt, rolled at the sleeves. He had his back against the locker, lazily holding his books in one hand while his head craned down to look at Annie. She was wearing a floral print dress and a teal cardigan. Annie for her part, was gesturing wildly with her hands. Her face was incredibly animated, something Jeff was observing with some measure of amusement.
Eventually, Shirley shook it off. She dipped a cluster of French fries into her little ketchup tub. "Why do we always have to be talking about those two?" Shirley shot back. "I mean, we have lives that don't revolve around all that drama. I happened to have gone skydiving this weekend. first crazy thing I ever done since giving birth to baby Ben. In fact, I told you I was doing it last weekend. But none of you asked me about it. I think that's far more exciting than whatever those two fools have going on over there."
Abed bit into one of his chicken strips. "Perhaps," said Abed. "However, it wouldn't make for good fanfiction. No one wants to hear a Shirley adventure story."
Britta and Shirley stared at him simultaneously with perplexed looks on their faces. "Excuse me," said Shirley. "Fan-what?"
"Fanfiction," continued Abed. "I'm working with a new theory that all pur lives are being controlled by thw guiding principles of fanfiction. If you're unfamiliar with the concept, it's when you take a pre existing show and write an unofficial story using the characters, settings, and situations. While it's been a fairly prevalent activity since the dawn of the Internet, fanworks have been around for many years before." Abed stopped and contemplated. He raised his finger. "House MD seems to be a pretty popular subject for some reason."
"I don't know, Abed," said Shirley in a sing-song voice. "That seems to be a waste of time."
"Not necessarily," said Abed. He pointed to a book in Shirley's purse. "That book started out as fanfiction about Edward and Bella. And now look where it's at. It's an international best seller."
Shirley suddenly blushed furiously as she clutched the purse to her body. It was too late.
"'Fifty Shades of Grey'? HA!" Britta laughed triumphantly. "I KNEW IT!"
There was some commotion over at the corridor. The three turned to watch. Annie had said something, which caused Jeff to laugh. Annie's nostrils flared and she clenched her jaw. She swat Jeff on the chest with a stern but intrigued expression. Jeff still looked amused, his face breaking out into a crazy grin.
Britta rolled her eyes. "Huh, any excuse for physical contact, I see. OK, Abed," she said, "I'll bite. What's this theory of yours?"
"While the activity of fanfiction is theoretically all encompassing and is only limited by the imagination, there are several unspoken rules... also reflected in real life. Take Shirley's skydiving story, for instance. While it's theoretically an amazing story, it doesn't touch upon a core human experience. Namely romance. We're attracted to the concept to romance because it feeds into the deep longings shared among all humans. So while Shirley's story may be fun, it's not as fulfilling in the realm of speculation. Unless there was some romance involved in your story, which I think is highly unlikely."
"You don't know me," said Shirley, offended.
"There's another important factor: the aura of uncertainty," continued Abed. "A lot of fanfiction is based around pairings that are obvious to readers but not certain on the show itself. There's the allure intrinsic in the mystery of the unknown. So it is with Jeff and Annie. While I think most of us had already assumed that they had a deeper relationship than merely study group partners, very little has ever been confirmed. Which means, naturally, we let our own imaginations fill in the gaps.
"In a way, it's a little like what Jimmy Stewart does in the classic Alfred Hitchcock movie, Rear Window."
"Is that the one with the killer birds?" asked Shirley. "That movie made me nervous about aviaries. I caught it on late night cinema one night when I was a kid, and it scared the bejeezus out of me. The crazy thing is, our school had a field trip to the zoo the next day. I wanted my mom to call in and tell them I was sick, but she wouldn't dare take away a valuable learning experience away from me. And I couldn't tell her that I snuck downstairs to watch a horror movie. She would've ripped right into me. So I went to zoo, and there I was at the aviary, and those damn birds were perched up there on those sills. Looking at me. Ready to peck my eyes out. Never in my life was I so terrified."
Britta stared at Shirley disbelievingly.
"No," said Abed. "That movie was called The Birds."
"Oh, good," said Shirley, sighing.
"In this movie, James Stewart is laid up at home in a cast. This was before TV or internet, so his only entertainment is watching the daily routine his neighbors. He constructs stories about their lives, which he pieces together from little bits of visual evidence. Sometimes he's wrong, but sometimes he's right. That's part of the thrill: seeing how close you get to the real story."
"Isn't that the one where he sees a murder through a telescope?" said Britta. "What? I may have seen an homage on the Simpsons."
"Telescoping lens," corrected Abed. "But yes, there's a murder involved. James Stewart also spies on a suicidal neighbor, a newlywed couple, and an exhibitionist, all reflections of his own mental state regarding his romantic relationship with Grace Kelly. The process of observing ends up providing greater insight into the viewer than into the supposed lives of those he's observing."
Jeff was now talking in a very gentle and caring way. He flicked a strand of hair that had been resting on Annie's shoulder. Eventually, he placed his hand at her elbow. Annie looked up at him with her wide doe eyes, her face breaking into a small, sweet smile.
Britta looked away, staring at her food. She crunched into another celery stick. God, those two. Last year, on the day of their last Anthropology diorama, her relationship with Jeff came crashing down. At first she thought it was because Abed had outed their secret sex. She thought it was because the thrill of everything being a big secret had been taken away from her. But now, that wasn't it at all.
Abed was right. She'd spent all year constructing a likely scenario, but one that she kept telling herself wasn't real. But it was real. Annie Edison - goodie-little-two-shoes Annie, she-only-kissed-Jeff-because-she-wanted-to-be-cool-like-Britta Annie - had been lying all this time. Oh, the signs were there. Those two had been caressing each other with their eyes all year like horny teenagers. But that day, she had to go and tell everyone in the study group that there was something between her and Jeff. Oh, Jeff could deny it all day, which he did, but the evidence all started to fall into place.
Those two never got over that damn kiss.
And Britta felt like a damn fool. All year long, she was there for Jeff physically. He always had her body. But she never had his heart. He never looked at her with those caring, tender eyes the same way he looked at Annie. Was he even thinking about her when they were having sex? Britta shuddered. The moment Annie had forced the issue between them, she knew she lost. Jeff was lost to her. Now they both new that they were still hung up over each other, Britta Perry was once again on the outs.
Yes, Jeff, it's not me. It's you.
Friggin' jags.
She reached into her bowl, only to find out that she was out of celery sticks. She swiped something from Shirley's plate and took a bite.
"Get your bony hands off my chicken strips, vile woman!" Shirley screamed. "And you're supposed to be vegetarian!"
"Lay off, Shirley!" said Britta. "It's not like there's anything we can do about it now! The chickens are already dead! I am honoring them by absorbing their life essence!"
Shirley rolled her eyes. Abed offered some from his plate, which she accepted.
Britta cast an evil eye at Jeff and Annie. "So..." she said, looking around the table, "you guys think they're secretly doing it?"
"BRITTA!" Shirley cried.
"What? We're all thinking it!" She huddle down, as if sharing a little secret. "Listen, this one time, I stopped by Jeff's apartment. I had to drop off some of his lesson plans ..."
"...and Annie answered the door, wearing Jeff's bathrobe, her hair hair in a mess after clearly having sex," Abed continued.
Shirley and Britta gasped.
"Oh, sweet Jesus," said Shirley.
"NO!" said Britta disbelievingly. "I was going to say he was texting someone, and I got a glimpse of that phone and that someone was clearly Annie. They were communicating off-hours, after class. God, Abed... how did you even come to that conclusion?"
"Oh," said Abed. "I must've come across some misleading information. Forget I said anything."
"Well, I can't now!" said Shirley. She looked angrily at Jeff and Annie. "I swear to God if they make those damn googly eyes at your housewarming party, Abed, I am calling them out on it!"
"Googly eyes?" asked Britta. "What the hell are googly eyes?"
"I think those are the eyes you see on Cookie Monster," said Abed.
"No, googly eyes!" said Shirley. "Like when you're all goo-goo, ga-ga at each other?"
"I don't think that's an actual term," Abed said.
"God," said Britta. "And you guys make fun of me when I say things weird."
"That's because your flustered reaction is kind of endearing," said Abed.
"She's right," said Shirley, nodding.
"Awww," said Britta, smiling. "Thanks, you guys."
Annie stamped her food loudly, this caused Jeff to wince a little. She stretched her arms out, her head bobbing back and forth as she sternly tried to make her point. The corners of Jeff's mouth turned into a concerned expression.
"Annie looks upset," said Abed.
"That's nothing," Shirley said. "That's just a part of the little game they got going on. It's like foreplay."
"Shirley!" said Britta, shocked.
"What?! You're the one calling us all out on thinking it!"
"Yes, but I never want to hear you say the words 'foreplay' ever!"
"It's true, though. They're going to be making up, and soon they're going to be making out. You'll see. Watch."
Jeff must've used up the last reserve of his Winger Charm, because, after a breezy talk, Annie had calmed down. A smile broke across her face. She wrapped her arms around Jeff's waist. He returned the hug in kind, crouching down a little and placing one had on her shoulder blades and one on the small of her back.
"Wait for it," said Shirley. Britta leaned forward, unable to avert her eyes. Abed tapped a french fry to his lips.
Jeff and Annie broke off. Jeff's eyes darted around, searching Annie's face. Annie did the same, the expression on her face softening. Their heads moved slowly toward each other.
"Wait for it," said Shirley.
Suddenly, Pierce stumbled into the hallway, loudly complaining. Jeff shirked, putting his back flat against the locker doors. Annie, took a few steps back, gasping a little at the surprise of being caught. Pierce didn't seem to have noticed. He said his hello to Annie, but turned to Jeff, who he'd come to see. He apparently had a problem with something. Annie shrugged. She raised her palm and waved her fingers in a small gesture of goodbye. As Pierce talked off his ear, Jeff's eyes lingered on Annie as she walked away.
"Well, that's that," said Shirley. "Saved by the Pierce."
"Yeah," said Britta. She suddenly realized she'd be furiously chewing on another chicken strip. "Oh, God. Ugh. I'm going to feel this tomorrow. Blech."
"And so the fanfiction ends," said Abed. "Until we start speculating as to what those two do after hours."
"Oh, God, no," said Britta. She took a heavy sip out of her 16 oz. of Coke. "I'm sorry I asked about the fanfiction thing. No more speculating. No more imagining. Let's just ... let's just forget about it."
"Fine," said Abed. He ate a French fry. "So, Shirley, how was skydiving this weekend?"
"Oooh, I'm glad you asked," she said, smiling. "Well, Andre and I drove down to the airfield at..."
END TAG
"How did it get burned?" demanded Jeff, angrily.
"Ha, nice," said Abed, pointing his finger like a gun and clicking his thumb.
"How did it get burned?!"
"We get it," Troy said. "You're Nic Cage from The Wicker Man."
"HOW DID IT GET BURNED?!"
"You can stop anytime now," said Abed.
"I left my lettuce wrap on the table five minutes ago, guys," he said, upset. He picked up a blackened lettuce leaf, with the turkey meat and cheese inside browned and melted. "Seriously, I leave the room to get some dressing and someone or something burned a hole right through it. Who... did this?"
Abed smiled. He held a bunsen burner behind his back. He and Troy had been trying to build a makeshift caloric meter. Troy glanced over at Abed.
"We think it was elves," said Abed.
"Yeah," said Troy, nodding. "Elves."
Notes: Two of the plotlines here - the Nic Cage class and the idea of Annie answering the door at Jeff's apartment - were rejected Community ideas that I decided to make reference here. I think another fic writer came up with the idea of Shirley reading "Fifty Shades of Grey." It was such a great and true sounding character trait that I had to reuse it! If you're the writer who came up with it, drop me a line and I'll give you a credit at the end of this fic.
Finally, yeah, this was going to be part of the Kim Perfect fic, but I couldn't find a way to work the scene in without looking awkward. So I decided to break it out as a one-shot.