This is my very first Community fanfic! I am actually working on a couple others which are much longer and more involved, but this one kind of poured out of me, so I just had to post. I have wanted to join in on the Jeff/Annie bandwagon for a long time now! I am such a fan! Would like to send a big shout out to nyclove3 who absolutely inspires me with her writing. I could never, ever reach her level of greatness and talent, but just reading her work makes me want to keep trying! I, sadly do not own any rights to Community, Jeff, Annie, etc. (But I wish I did!)
What the hell did she just do? Jeff thought to himself as he walked up to the bar and asked the bartender for a scotch and soda. He turned around and gazed across the room and spotted her immediately, an almost ethereal looking Annie, laughing and dancing out on the dance floor, as loud music blared throughout the room.
She was truly a vision to behold, her long dark hair, loosely piled atop her head, with strands that spilled out in cascading waves, framing her beautiful face. She wore a figure hugging long white dress; a classic cut which emphasized all her luscious curves and with its low cut neckline that only enhanced her perfect breasts. She was in a word, stunning.
The combination of the dress and her porcelain skin along with her dark hair made her look like she belonged in a Victorian painting or was the model for a Greek goddess statue. She had taken her heels off and was now barefoot, making her look even more sensuous somehow. Because of the long gown, she had to hold the bottom of the dress up so as to not trip over it while she glided joyously across the floor.
Britta and Shirley, both attired in dresses of purple, although Annie insisted the color was amethyst, were buoyantly moving to the music as well, twirling around with Shirley's older boys, while Andre was trying to reign in a very active Ben. Troy and Abed, having removed their jackets and ties, moved together like twin robots as they began one of their many bizarre dance routines, galvanizing others in the crowd to do the same, and Jeff to shake his head and grin.
At a table in the middle of the room, Pierce held court with several women regaling them with stories, he had little doubt, and interviewing for the next potential Mrs. Hawthorne, of that he was sure. Heaven help them all, Jeff thought.
By now, many others had gathered onto the dance floor, but there was no way he could not still see Annie out there, as though a spotlight was focused directly on her. It wasn't that she stood out from the others just because she was the bride, the star of the reception. No. She stood out because she absolutely looked like an angel and it literally took his breath away.
In the midst of her exuberant dancing, he saw her stop for a moment, and look around the room searching for something or someone. When she made eye contact with him, he knew he had been the object of her search. He didn't think her face could look any more radiant or beautiful than it already did, but when their eyes locked, her face took on a glow that made her big, gorgeous blue eyes sparkle even brighter. She literally beamed at him, something that made his heart melt, a feat he once never thought possible and one he would almost be embarrassed to admit.
He grinned wildly at her in return. How could he not? Her smiles had always been contagious. She mouthed the words "I love you," just as "Roxanne" by The Police began playing and Britta grabbed her back into the throng of people but before he could mouth his reply. Oh, the memories, that song brought back to him.
What the hell did she do? He thought again to himself, as he tipped his glass back and felt the drink glide effortlessly down his throat. Annie Edison married me. Me. Just a few short hours ago. She knows me be better than anyone else, knows all my shit, and yet she still said yes. She loves me, despite everything. She said 'I do,' and now she is Annie Winger; my Annie. He had long ago thought he would never marry, never settle down with just one woman, and then she came into his life and although it took a long time, years, actually, one day he awoke and realized he had to have her, only her and he would have begged her to marry him if it had come to that. Me, Jeff Winger, beg. Damn, I am whipped.
He was still trying to wrap his head around all this. Many women had tried; damn, how they have tried. Just look at him after all; but it took this petite, headstrong, control freak of a brunette from his old study group at Greendale Community College to get into his heart and stay there and turn him into absolute mush. And he loved it; loved her, more than anything or anyone.
His heart skipped a beat as he observed her taking the clip out her hair allowing the glossy waves that had still been trapped to cascade down her shoulders as she shook her head and ran her fingers through it. He was not surprised that a simple gesture like that caused such an arousal in him. He could not wait to have her all to himself, and oh, the things he will do to her later that night; their wedding night. He smiled widely at the thought. Maybe being pussy-whipped would have its advantages.
Jeff gulped down the last sips of his scotch then set his glass down on the bar, and gazed back towards the dance floor still mesmerized by Annie. Thank God she said yes, he thought as he headed towards her direction. Because marrying Annie was the best fucking thing I have ever done in my life.
He couldn't wait to hold his wife in his arms and dance with her.