October 29th 2009 - Jeff
Mulligan's Irish Bar
"Go get her, Tango." Mark said, slapping Jeff on the back with a broad grin on his face. The two men were out celebrating another in the series of victories that was rapidly establishing them as the most dangerous team in Hamish, Hamish and Hamlin. Mark had noticed that Jeff's eyes kept slipping over to the tall, slim brunette standing by the bar.
"We're supposed to be celebrating, Cash." Jeff said reluctantly. There weren't many guys Jeff would turn down a chance at a tall, slim brunette for, but Mark was one of them.
"It's okay buddy - I promised Clara I wouldn't be out too late anyway." Mark said, naming his wife.
There's being loyal and there's being stupid, Jeff thought to himself. And I'm not stupid. "Thanks Mark," he grinned easily at his friend. "See you tomorrow." Jeff patted him good naturedly on the upper arm and slipped out of the booth, swaggering as he went.
"Did you know that was invented in honour of Winston Churchill's mother?" Jeff said as the brunette was served a Manhattan.
She raised an eyebrow as he handed the barman a ten and told him to keep the change, but didn't challenge him, Instead she turned to face him full on. "That's a fascinating story," she said. "But the only thing wrong with it is that it's completely false." She had an amused grin on her face as though defying him to challenge her.
Jeff grinned back at her, completely unabashed. "Oh - we may need to settle this at a restaurant..."
Her smile acquired a speculative edge as she looked him up and down. "You're cute. A little aggressive, but as a busy, confident woman of authority, I'm attracted to men who take charge."
Are you being sarcastic, or am I nailing it? Jeff thought to himself. He decided he had nothing to lose by taking her at her word and took out his phone. "Then you're going to love this-" he took out his phone and hit speed dial. "Stephen, it's Jeff Winger here -"
Barely a minute later, he hung up with a "see you in thirty," and turned back to the brunette.
"A table for two at eight has just opened at Cornucopia," he said, naming one of the most fashionable restaurants in the area and one that usually had a two-week waiting list.
Despite herself, the brunette looked impressed. "You're lucky I hadn't eaten yet," she said as she drained her glass and picked up her purse. Jeff helped himself to her wrap and draped it over her shoulders.
"So, what name does a busy, confident woman of authority go by these days?"
"Michelle. But you can call me Professor Slater for the time being."
"Please to meet you, professor - Jeff Winger, Attorney at law." He mock-bowed slightly and invited her to walk with him.
XXXXXX
(Three weeks later, Hamish Hamish and Hamlin Thanksgiving Ball)
"So you're still seeing the professor?" Mark said, sounding impressed as he looked over at Michelle where she was talking to Ted and his wife. Jeff had gone to get drinks for them both and Mark had met him at the bar. "How long has it been now?"
"Three weeks," Jeff said, happy for the excuse to join Mark in looking at Michelle.
"Isn't that, oh, two weeks and six days longer than your relationships usually last?" Mark said with a grin on his face.
"What can I say?" Jeff grinned back at him. "She challenges me."
"I'll bet," Mark said. "Hot and smart. That never used to be your thing."
"I'm growing as a human being," Jeff was still grinning. "Oh, thanks -" the barman had returned with Jeff's order of a neat Scotch and a glass of dry white wine.
"Sorry Cash, but -" Jeff shrugged apologetically.
"Go to her, Tango." Mark smiled indulgently back at him.
XXXXXX
(Last day of fall semester, Greendale Community College)
"I did arm candy duty at one of your parties, it's time you did it at one of mine. At least with you on my arm the creeps in Modern Languages may leave me alone…"
Michelle's words from three days earlier - coupled with certain threats he had no doubt at all she was capable of carrying out - had finally broken his resistance to attending one of the ridiculous number of events her college ran.
It does have its compensations though. Jeff thought with an inward smile as he strode confidently across the campus in his sharpest suit soaking up the admiring stares of assorted co-eds. Soak it up, girls - this is what a real alpha male looks like…
He made his way to the Maths department slightly late, courtesy of confusing directions provided by a twitching young man who appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, where Michelle shimmied sideways with a smile when he attempted to pin her to her desk. She walked out with a sway in her hips leaving Jeff scrambling to catch up.
"So, what's this party I can't get out of?" Jeff said as they approached the cafeteria - he'd assumed it was some sort of Christmas function, but the banner over the door saying MERRY HAPPY! Combined with the complete absence of a tree or any other seasonal decorations had thrown him somewhat.
"Non-denominational, all-inclusive end of semester staff-student mixer," Michelle's voice had a long suffering tone to it, reminding Jeff of her many rants about her impossible dean.
"We'll stay an hour and-" She was suddenly interrupted by an outraged cry.
"Screw you guys! I don't need this study group anyway!" An elderly man was storming out of the cafeteria with a face like thunder, Jeff however found his attention drawn elsewhere.
"Pierce, wait!" This voice belonged to a tiny, strikingly pretty brunette who Jeff suddenly found himself staring at. She had lustrous black hair that made Jeff wonder what product she used, a cute green cardigan, short skirt and flats - you can't win them all, he thought wryly as he watched a motherly African-American woman catch up with her, say something then hold onto the brunette while she cried her eyes out.
"She's only eighteen." Michelle's voice had acquired a dangerous tone - she'd seen where Jeff was looking.
Whoa - talk about a narrow escape! Jeff thought to himself with a slight shudder as he forced himself to concentrate on his girlfriend.
"I've no idea what you're talking about," he said blandly. "I was too busy thinking about the fact I'm about to walk into a room full of people with the hottest girl around on my arm."
"Liar," she said, a faint smile on her face as she hooked her arm through his.
XXXXXXX
December 14th 2009 - Britta
Voyager Coffee Shop, Amsterdam
It had taken Britta almost three days to get to Amsterdam using the cheapest possible combination of routes, and she'd wasted no time once she'd got there - walking straight out of the central station and into the first "coffee bar" she'd seen with the familiar six-fingered leaf displayed in the window.
She slipped into a corner seat - already feeling a slight buzz from the fug in the air - and sighed happily as she lit up what was going to be the first of many spliffs. After a few minutes (at least she thought it was a few minutes) she spotted a nervous looking British tourist, threw him a brilliant smile and asked if she could borrow his laptop to check her e-mail. It took her barely two minutes to realise it hadn't been worth the effort - one from Shirley inviting everybody to her church's carol concert, one from Abed asking if anybody had seen Slater's mystery boyfriend who had allegedly put in an appearance at the dean's mixer as he wanted to cast the part in his web show, and one from Annie begging everyone to give Pierce another chance. Britta shuddered as she remembered an embrace that had fast turned inappropriate and had ended with a slap to get him to let go and Pierce triumphantly proclaiming to all and sundry that she must be a lesbian to respond to a real man like that. It had been the last straw, and she had no intention of letting him back. Oh and there was one from her mother, but Britta didn't open that.
She smiled once again at the British guy and accepted his invitation to meet up that evening while simultaneously plotting to give the proposed venue a wide berth.
I love Amsterdam, she thought, inhaling another huge drag.
