Title: The Gunslinger

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Guns and Sex, but surprisingly, no violence.

Disclaimer: I don't own Community, or the show Justified, which this is kind of inspired by (Raylan Givens is sexy, okay?).

Summary:It was probably kismet that the first night in which Jeff Winger owned a gun was the first night in his life that he'd ever actually needed one.


The Gunslinger

It was probably kismet that the first night in which Jeff Winger owned a gun was the first night in his life that he'd ever actually needed one. Sharing birthday drinks at the bar with his friends had inevitably led to gift giving, which was not historically an eventful situation for his little group of misfits, but on Jeff's 35th birthday, Pierce had opted to change that tradition.

"It's a Colt," he proclaimed proudly. Jeff's eyes widened at the payload of the heavier-than-usual box, before peering questioningly at Pierce.

"Why?" was all he could think to ask.

"Every man needs a gun, Jeffrey. And not one of those ladies pea shooters that Annie carries around," he chuckled lightly, "as if that thing could do any real damage." The group members in attendance, Annie, Britta and Shirley just stared at him in disbelief. Jeff shook his head.

"Uh... I don't need a gun, Pierce," he attempted. The old man took a drink of his whiskey, coughed a little, and set it back down on the table between them.

"Jeffrey, it's your right as a man and an American to own a gun," he pushed.

"Right, because men are the only people who need to protect themselves..." Britta argued, clearly gearing up for a debate. Jeff held up his hand to stop her.

"It's a right that I've chosen to wave in favour of more reasonable methods of persuasion," he attempted to explain. Pierce just shook his head.

"I believe the words you're looking for are thank you, Winger. For the gun, and the bullets." Jeff's brow furrowed as he peered down into the box, lifting the gun out of the way to check for a pack of bullets that he'd somehow missed. He fingered the gun awkwardly, with all of the finesse of a man who had never in his life held anything more lethal than a paintball gun.

"I don't see any bullets," he noted after taking a good look.

"That's because they're already in the gun," Pierce explained. "Locked and loaded, and ready for action." Jeff's eyes bugged out slightly at that, and he gently set the gun back down and put the top of the box back on.

"Pierce, you can't bring that kind of thing into a place like this," Annie scolded. "It's not safe."

"We're safer now than we were before, when all we had to rely on was Jeff's inability to fight," Pierce argued. Britta rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, because clearly we're all much safer putting a real gun in the hands of this guy." She pointed at Jeff with her thumb.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he grumbled.

"You have my support, buddy," she teased, elbowing him lightly and, in doing so, jostling the box he still had his hands on. Shirley, Britta, Annie and Jeff all gasped, half expecting the package to explode before them. Pierce rolled his eyes.

"The safety's on," he corrected them. All four continued to look nervously at the box for another moment before eventually calming down. Pierce sighed, pulling himself out of the booth where they were situated. "Well, it's time for my date," he said with bravado. Everyone levelled him with a glare, but none bothered to mention that his date was most likely with a glass of warm milk. Pierce turned to Jeff before leaving. "Sack up, Winger. Men who have balls, have guns." Jeff rolled his eyes, but didn't respond as Pierce left.

"You're not keeping that thing, are you?" Shirley asked once the old man was out of earshot. Jeff shook his head adamantly.

"Hell no."


Once Pierce had vacated the premises, the evening slowly waned. Shirley left soon after to head home to her boys and Andre, and Britta took off to feed her cats. Soon it was just Jeff and Annie. He'd agreed to drive her home because Troy and Abed had borrowed her car for a road trip to see the Inspector Spacetime movie being played at a small, ratty movie theatre outside of Denver.

"You ready to head out too?" Annie asked once Britta had disappeared out of the bar. Jeff nodded and headed up to settle their tab before returning to the table and collecting the various gifts left by his friends. He and Annie both looked at the 'gun box' nervously.

"You should just take it to a dealer," Annie suggested. Jeff nodded, still watching the box. "Jeff, it won't bite. Like Pierce said, the safety is on." Jeff nodded, before setting the rest of his gifts in Annie's arms and gingerly picking the box up, holding it about a foot away from his body. Annie giggled a little at his apprehension, but stopped when he shot her a glare.

"I'm just being careful," he explained, slowly moving toward the door. "I don't know much about guns, but I do know Pierce, and I don't trust him to work a toaster oven, let alone a firearm." Annie grimaced.

"Okay, you may have a point," she allowed. She held the door for him as the two headed back to his car.

The drive to Annie's building was fairly uneventful. Jeff had put the gun box in the trunk, then made sure the gun inside was pointing away from them, and then secured the box by surrounding it with everything else he had in his car, including Annie's purse and coat, before finally deciding he'd done his due diligence to ensure neither of them were killed in the process of getting home. Even Annie thought his concern was a little over-the-top, but she couldn't fault his logic when it came to Pierce's understanding of... well... anything.

As Jeff pulled up in front of the building, Annie gave him a small smile.

"Happy birthday, Jeff," she said quietly. It was rare that she and Jeff got to enjoy private moments like this. It was something she greatly enjoyed.

"Thanks," Jeff said, meeting her gaze. "Pierce notwithstanding, I'd say it was a pretty good one."

"He was just trying to be nice," she defended. Jeff gave a wry chuckle.

"Why is it that when Pierce is trying to be nice, weapons are involved?" Annie giggled and shrugged a shoulder.

"He's from a different era, Jeff."

"Was that era the Old West?" he pitched. "Was his version of Cowboys and Indians the real thing?" Annie giggled at that image, but shook her head.

"Be nice, Jeff," she scolded lightly. He huffed a small laugh, but conceded.

"I guess considering some of the things he's given us as gifts over the years, I should be glad this year it was something as innocuous as a gun." Annie grinned and reached over the centre console, giving his hand a little squeeze before climbing out of the car.

"I need to get my stuff out of your trunk," she reminded him. Jeff groaned and popped it open, stepping out to join her at the back.

"You know your purse may be the only thing standing between me dying from a gunshot wound or continuing to live," he teased as she pulled her purse and coat out of the barricade they'd put together.

"Well, if that was your only line of defense, then I'd say you have some bigger problems than losing my purse," she teased.

"I'd say you both have some pretty big problems right about now," came a new voice, low and gruff from behind them. Annie gasped and whirled around, finding a man standing a few feet away holding a large knife. Jeff spun as well, the levity of his evening forgotten at the sight of the weapon glinting in the man's right fist.

"Hey, asshole. Throw me the keys, and get away from the car," the man demanded. Annie looked up at Jeff, wide-eyed.

"Jeff," she said, her voice wavering. Jeff's mind ran in circles as he tried to figure this situation out. Option #1 was to let this jackass take his Lexis; not a good option. Option #2 was to try and fight him, but, well, Jeff sucked at that, so also not a good option.

He felt like there had to be something else, but for the life of him, he just couldn't think of it.

"RIGHT NOW, ASSHOLE!" the man shouted, waving his knife out in front of him menacingly.

The glint of the knife in the streetlights caught Jeff's eye, and then in a split second, he spun around and knocked the top off the package Pierce had given to him, emerging with the gun pointed at their would-be assailant.

"Call me an asshole one more time," Jeff said, his voice low, menacing. Annie's eyes shot between the two men, clearly afraid, but also mildly entranced by the scene taking place in front of her.

"You won't do it," said the man, although his bravado had shrunk exponentially. "You don't have the balls." Jeff's eyes narrowed as he held the gun as steadily as he could. It felt heavy in his hand, but he refused to let it quiver in his grasp.

"You'll pay to find that out," he growled, knowingly lifting lines from Justified, and not feeling a bit bad about it. The man with the knife wavered slightly. His hand holding the object shook, and his eyes grew as he seemed to take full stock of the situation.

And then he was running. Running, running, running, until he had disappeared behind the building.

Jeff blinked, his hand now beginning to shake from the unfamiliar weight of the gun in his hand.

"Jeff," Annie said, her voice quivering. Jeff looked down at her, eyes wide, breath coming in spurts.

"Holy shit," he said, as if suddenly realizing what had just transpired. He looked down at the gun in his hand and gasped, quickly replacing it into the box and slamming the lid down, followed by the trunk lid. "Let's go. I'm not leaving you here alone," he said emphatically. Annie nodded and raced back to the passenger's side of the car as Jeff climbed back in and gunned the engine, taking them away from the Trobed apartment and heading in the direction of his own.

Annie watched Jeff as he drove fast, a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She didn't say a word as he parked and the two headed for his apartment, gifts, purses and coats momentarily forgotten in the trunk.

Jeff seemed to come back to himself as he shoved his key into the lock on his apartment. He stopped, and looked down at Annie who was pale next to him.

"You okay?" he asked, finally. She blinked a few times and nodded.

"I'm... fine," she eventually said. Jeff gave a firm nod and pushed his apartment door open, making room for her to pass him by before closing it behind him. He faced toward the door for a moment in the dark apartment, adrenaline still pumping through his veins as he replayed the night's events over and over in his head.

"Jeff?" Annie's voice was timid behind him. He turned and leaned back against the door with a sigh, trying to calm his frayed nerves.

"Yeah?" She nibbled her lip, something he noticed she did when she was nervous.

"Don't think I'm weird for saying this, but..." she stopped a moment, as if deciding to go through with her next statement. "That was pretty freaking sexy," she finished. Jeff gaped at her a moment. Of all of the things he thought she might say, that was not one of them.

But his blood was pumping, and his ears were ringing, and fuck if Annie didn't look like she was juiced up with pure adrenaline too.

He ignored the nugget of doubt that told him this was a bad idea in favour of satiating his sudden need to slam her gorgeous body against the door and fuck her brains out. They'd just had a potential near death experience. He figured they were entitled to this.

Annie didn't hesitate for a moment as Jeff closed the space, grabbed her by the shoulders, and backed her hard into his door, following closely as his body and lips crashed into hers, nearly stealing her breath in a multitude of ways. Hands clawed, groped, grabbed and kneaded as clothes ripped and tore beneath the pressure, seams coming apart with more ease than expected. Jeff hauled Annie up, wrapping her legs around him as he banged them into bookshelves and walls en route to his bedroom, where he gracelessly deposited her on his bed so he could really get down to work.

His adrenaline was still up as he pushed into her, setting up a punishing pace as the two cried out for each other, and more, Jeff, fuck, Annie, yes, deep, fuck, yes.

Annie used every ounce of her bodily strength to push him onto his back and straddle him, taking him in deeply and regaining his speed as she rode him, her body lit only by the moon glowing through the window. She dug into his chest, using him as leverage to fuck him harder, as his fingers left small bruises on her hips as he guided her over him, hips pushing up to meet each of her downward strokes.

"Shit, Annie," Jeff growled, his hips lifting off the bed as he forced himself up into her as she began to come apart above him. He watched as she quickly lost her pace and composure, moans coming unbidden from deep within her chest as her hips moved carelessly, seeking out every last bit of pressure and friction she could garner from him in that moment. He felt her tighten around him, gripping him from within and sucking his orgasm from him in a way that left him totally unable to regain control.

They breathed hard then, hips still moving against one another in an attempt to keep the waves rushing through them. Annie collapsed on top of him, the feel of her breasts flush with his chest almost painfully pleasurable in the afterglow.

Hands continued to grope, lips continued to tease, fingers continued to grasp, yearnings not nearly gone even though bodies lay exhausted in a heap on top of the covers of Jeff's bed.

Annie lazily fell off of him, dropping to his side as limbless as a jellyfish, the sweat on her brow causing her hair to stick to her forehead and neck. Jeff didn't look much better, his chest red from the beating he took, a single bead of sweat falling from his hairline down to the pillow behind his head.

A few moments. Heavy breaths giving way to steady ones, heavy eyes drooping as adrenaline slipped away leaving exhausted messes in its wake.

Jeff was nearly asleep with her heard a small titter beside him. He pried his eyes open to find Annie looking at him curiously.

"What were you going to do?" she asked quietly. His brow furrowed. "If he hadn't backed down... were you actually going to shoot him?" Jeff huffed a laugh, uncomfortably loud in the quiet room.

"Annie, I don't even know how to turn the safety off," he admitted. Her eyes widened at that revelation.

"Holy crap," she whispered, a small amount of awe evident in her voice. "We were so fucked." Jeff laughed at that. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that they miraculously didn't get fucked, that they did some fucking, or that Annie had said fucked, but something about the moment struck him as uniquely hilarious.

Annie didn't know why he was laughing, but found herself unable to keep from joining in.

Later, when Jeff and Annie finally told this story to their friends, they left out just about every detail of what actually happened that night—except for the part where Jeff quoted Justified... because that was just badass.

End


Weird time to post a gun related fic, I realize that... but I've been rewatching the amazing show Justified, and every time Raylan pulls out that gun, I think, "Fuck, Joel McHale would be sexy doing that."

For the record, I'm not trying to make any kind of gun ownership statement. My political stance is incredibly left-wing on this issue, but it's irrelevant, since I don't live in a country where that debate is an issue.