Author's Note: Feeling conflicted this week. On the one hand Community is renewed, but on the other it's getting moved to Fridays which doesn't bode well for another season. But then we did get another clip show, which was pretty much a wet dream. (Oh, & in the wake of recent episodes I felt I ought to clarify that Abed's watch in Ch 8 is digital.) So seeing as how the finale is next week I'm gonna go out on a limb & say I hope Annie continues the grand old tradition of kissing a study grouper. Maybe Troy or Britta this time. Anyways, this chapter is dedicated once again to Ksentos. Because if she hadn't guided me in the right direction, it wouldn't exist. So Muchisimas Gracias! Merci beaucoup! & Spasibo! (спасибо)
Also, to the anonymi: Katie Moon - I know you're not an anonymous reviewer but since I can't PM you (& have wanted to since you reviewed Door Number Two) I hope you don't mind my professing my undying gratitude. / x - Ditto. I f-ing loved your exuberant review. / anon – Um, I think you're reading into things. / Mae – "Something always leads me back to you…" Oh, wait. Sorry. What I meant to say is thank you so much for the ballsy compliment. But I also wanted to mention that while I think it's cool you disagree, let's keep things from looking like—as Jeff would say—a youtube comment section. Oh, God, keep in mind I say that with so much love. …Please come back. / kf – Agreed. Drive was epic. It's all about that elevator scene. And poor Albert Brooks got snubbed at the Oscars. I can't imagine anyone playing more against type & doing it so, so well.
Chapter 9: Double Duty
x
"A little to the left," Abed said, guiding me. "No wait, a little more to the right."
I stretched as best I could but my foot skirted on the seat and the chair wobbled. I felt Abed grip it steady underneath me.
"You know, Annie, maybe I should do it. I'm taller."
"No, it's okay. I've almost… got it," I muttered, my tongue between my teeth as I pushed the last pin into the wall. "There!" I said proudly, lowering myself down to survey my handiwork. "How does it look now? Is it still crooked?"
"It's good," he said, but he sounded less than enthusiastic.
"What's the matter?" I asked, shifting my gaze from the banner that read Happy Birth/Expulsion Day, Pierce & Troy! to Abed.
"You almost fell."
He was wearing the closest thing I'd ever seen to a pout on his punnum and I laughed. "Seriously? You were worried?"
"That would've been two times in one week. I don't know if you've noticed with Pierce but these things come in waves."
"I'm not a total klutz, Abed. It's not like I'm about to break my legs and my brain. Give me some credit. That ice was slippery."
He was referring to our trip to the ice skating rink the night before. We'd intended to go alone but then Troy had found out about it and asked to join in. It sucked. Not that I'd ordinarily mind his being there, but part of the reason why we'd opted to go out in the first place was to find time to plan the surprise party. And maybe it was Troy's presence that had distracted me and caused me to lose my balance on the ice. I'd banged both of my knees rather badly, but I tried to assure the boys that it was only because I bruise like a peach and honestly, I was no worse for the wear…
"I still don't think we have enough party favors," Abed said, looking up and around critically.
"Yeah, well, I told you, noise poppers are fine, but no sparklers indoors. I don't trust Troy or Pierce. Or Britta, for that matter."
"What do you think of the spread?" he asked.
"I think it looks vulgar," I said acridly.
It was a shame really. The table was laid out quite nicely for the most part. There hadn't been much selection at the market, so we'd opted to go with a Batman theme. The plates, cups and napkins were quite colorful and looked better suited for a child's birthday party rather than an adult's. But then Abed had been kind enough to bust out his Adam West figurines to lend the party a vintage feel, and I'd printed a few photographs of a leather-clad Eartha Kitt to accommodate Pierce. There was an array of chips and dips, and a fruit and vegetable tray for Britta. The only point of contention, however, was also the centerpiece—a giant cake featuring a half naked woman holding a football.
"Me, too," Abed agreed, cocking his head. "But it wasn't my fault the cake decorator arrived at that particular result."
"How is that even possible? I still don't know what you told him exactly…?"
"I just gave him a detailed list of everything Pierce and Troy are into. Two columns, like you suggested. There weren't many shared interests. This at least broaches a few of them," he gestured.
"I don't know, Abed. I think Shirley is going to lose it."
"Why? We're letting her bring everything else."
"Yeah, but after she sees that cake she's going to want to take off with the lot of it. It's bad enough the woman is topless, but she also looks a lot like Shirley, doesn't she?"
"Well, that may've been shared interest number three."
"What was that?"
"Foxy black women."
I sighed. "Next time bring me with you. Some things require a woman's touch."
"But this cake already has one."
"That's not what I meant."
"Maybe I should go get another cake…?"
"No," I said determinedly. "You stay here. The girls are gonna be here any second and I need you to help coordinate things."
"About that, I was thinking maybe we shouldn't jump out and say surprise. It's always a risk for men of Pierce's age and temperament."
"Well, let's not do it in the dark then. That's tacky. I say we just have Jeff guide 'em in. It'll be short and sweet."
"I wish we'd had more time," Abed said. "We could've used some olives for the bathroom."
"We're not to blame. Or if we are it's everybody's fault for forgetting Pierce's birthday two years in a row. Besides, olives are passé," I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "And decorative soaps are much fancier…"
There was a sharp rap on the door.
"Oh, yay!" I jumped. "They're here."
We opened the door and Shirley and Britta came bustling in with armfuls of grocery bags. "We're not very late, are we?" Shirley asked, out of breath.
"Maybe ten minutes, but we texted Jeff to stall," Abed said. "Did you remember to close the door behind you downstairs? We can't have any giveaways."
"Yeah we did, but why did you tell them to stall?" Britta asked. "They're only gonna fill up on ice cream."
"Not when they see the rest of the food," I assured her. "You know how they eat. Did you bring the alcohol?"
"Couldn't get the keg." Britta shook her head. "There wasn't enough time and my connections fell through. But I brought plenty of booze." She craned over and held her hand to the side of her mouth. "And a little somethin' extra if ya know what I'm say—" Britta paused mid-bad Brooklyn accent. "Rum," she said abruptly, her eyes darting to Shirley's. "And coke. Coke coke. Not coke coke coke. I mean, I haven't… I've never… That's bourgeois is what I'm trying to say."
Abed nodded as though he understood. "It's passé."
I rolled my eyes and took Shirley's hand. "Come help me set up," I said, leading her into the kitchen.
She glanced back through the doorway, her expression suspicious. "Britta's acting strange…"
"Oh, Britta's always awkward," I said dismissively. "You wouldn't happen to have some frosting tools in there, would you?"
"No. But I did bring the cookies. And taco cups and crab cakes and stuffed mushrooms," she said proudly.
"Oh, how great!" I was pulling the containers out one by one. "Wow, everything smells amazing. And it looks nice, too. I guess we'll just put it out as is…"
"You're in a good mood tonight."
"Oh, I had a lot of fun throwing the party together with Abed. Even though it was very last minute, it kind of made it more exciting. Like we were up to the task."
"Was the tuxedo your idea?"
"Sort of. It was either that or his coming as Batman. But I prefer Abed. So we negotiated a time share," I explained. "I tried to pitch in though. I look 'classy', right?" I said, spinning slightly so that my skirt flared out.
"Very nice," Shirley agreed. "You're glowing."
"Am I?"
"Mmm-hmm," she said, giving me a knowing smile that seemed rather mysterious. I was about to ask her about it when Abed called out from across the room.
"Jeff's walking them up now," he said, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
"Oh! So soon? Okay," I said hurriedly. "Let's all get under the banner. And nobody scream too loudly. Give Pierce the early bird special."
"Which do we say?" Shirley whispered once we were standing in a line. "Happy Birthday or Expulsion Day?"
"You and Britta: Birthday. Me and Annie: Expulsion," Abed murmured.
Everyone nodded and we could hear Pierce grousing as Troy's keys jingled in the door.
"Don't see why you had to correct them is all…"
"Pierce, you're not my father," Jeff said. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a father. I don't need a father. And I don't want to be a father—finito."
"That's not what you told the waitress," Troy piped up. "What happened to 'single mothers are the backbone of America'?"
"You cater to the consumer, Troy. And whose side are you on anyways? You're starting to sound like Britta."
"Britta's pretty smart actually," Troy was saying as he opened the door. "Do you know the difference between a Meowist and a Marxist?"
"Happy Birth-Spulsion Day!" we all yelled together. But no one louder than the woman in question, who'd leapt a clear foot ahead of the rest of us and was waving her arms in the air like a giant squid. Growing self conscious, Britta dropped her arms and slackened her stance.
"I may have overdone it a little," she said.
We all shared a pained look and then I moved forward. "Surprise, guys! It's your birthday party."
"But my birthday's not 'til next week," Troy said, accepting Britta's hug first as we encircled them.
"Yeah, but Pierce's is at midnight. Two birds, one stone."
"I thought that's why we went to the ice cream parlor," Pierce said, who seemed as bewildered as Troy but happier than we'd seen him in weeks. "To celebrate."
"Oh, come on, Pierce. You honestly didn't think we'd forget to throw you a real party, did you?" Jeff said heartily, as if the thought hadn't struck the group just yesterday afternoon.
"Come on," I urged them. "We have lots of food. And beer. And presents. And music!"
"Bare Naked Ladies," Abed added, pointing.
"What in the name of Jacob, Isaac and Abraham is that?" Shirley shrieked, catching sight of the cake.
"Wow." Jeff looked towards the table. "Frederick's of Hollywood or Spencer's Gifts?"
"We actually had it custom ordered," Abed informed them.
"Awesome," Troy breathed.
"Fantastic!" Pierce added, equally mesmerized.
"Annie!" Shirley whirled around and gave me a look of horror. "How could you?"
"It wasn't intentional! I just sent Abed off with a list and—"
"Abed?" she gasped.
"To be fair, I didn't know it was going to be pornographic," Abed told her. "Although I did mention Pierce's fondness for pornography…"
"Damn straight you did!" Pierce leaned over and ruffled Abed's hair proudly. "Now did you get Shirley to pose or did you give 'em a picture?"
"Huh?" "What!" Troy and Shirley said at the same time, leaning over the table. And then they each shot back several feet.
"Oh, God!" Troy said, spinning swiftly and grabbing his skull. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I cannot un-see that. I cannot un-see that!"
And then Shirley actually whacked Abed upside the head. "Abed Nadir, what the hell has gotten into you?"
"Hey!" I said fiercely, grabbing Abed's arm and pulling him into my side. "That wasn't his fault, Shirley. It's just a coincidence."
"My whole brain is crying!" Troy wailed, fists on face and hands on knees. "Shirley's head, Beyonce's booty… no more Dreamgirls!" He looked up in agony. "You ruined Dreamgirls for me, man!"
"Geez, would everyone just calm down for a second?" Britta interjected. "It's just a little frosting and…" she frowned, dipping her finger into the top of the cake, "chocolate pudding cups?"
"No more Dereon," Troy was sobbing. "No more Watch The Throne…"
"Okay!" Jeff shouted, clapping his hands over the commotion. "Obviously, this party has gotten off to a predictably inane start so I'm gonna say it and I'm only gonna say it once. Troy, that's not Shirley. And Pierce, stop leering, it's not. Shirley, it sounds like it was an accident so stop attacking innocent bystanders. And Abed—you okay, buddy? You need some ice?"
"I'm fine," Abed said, and I squeezed his hand.
"Annie," Jeff looked to me warily, "can't we do anything about this… this pudding cup situation?"
"I asked Shirley if she had any frosting tools," I shrugged. "I wanted to fashion a bra or something. Or at least turn the g-string into a bikini cut…"
"I say we just dig in," Britta suggested. "We're all here. We can each eat one of the more objectionable parts. And Pierce and Troy can blow out the candles."
"I can't do it," Troy said, coming to a stand and wiping his eyes. "I can't blow her candles out…"
"Aw, pumpkin," Shirley soothed, reaching out to graze Troy's shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" he squealed.
Abed walked away from me and into the kitchen a little stiffly. Seeing that Jeff and Britta were preoccupied with consoling Troy and Shirley, I followed. Abed opened a drawer and took out a large knife to cut the cake, but his face looked a little bleak as he did so.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"You were right," he said, setting the knife down on the counter. "Shirley's really mad at me. And I think I traumatized Troy."
"Hardly. It was Pierce doing most of the damage out there. And Troy's going to be fine. He reacted the same way last week when he thought he saw Jesus on a slice of pizza, remember?"
"So what do we do?"
"I say…" I opened up a cabinet and started gathering shot glasses, "that a little social lubrication is now in order. We turn on some music, slice that cake up so it's more PG, less NC, and we're good to go."
"And what do I do?"
"Apologize to Shirley," I said simply. "She'll forgive you. And this time tomorrow it'll just be another story about you being cute."
"Cute?" he repeated dubiously.
"Very cute," I insisted, wrapping my arms around him. Abed was quick to receive my kiss and I smiled against the press of his lips. Shirley was right. I was in a good mood. I had been for days on end and it seemed that very little could faze me.
I wish we were alone, I thought, playing with the lapels of his jacket. I wish we were all alone, just him and me…
"Sorry to interrupt," Britta hissed from behind us, "but now might be a good time to break out the beverages."
"My thoughts exactly." I turned around. "Can you do the honors, Britta? Beer first."
I took the handle of the knife in one hand and tugged Abed with the other. We went back into the living room where, I'm presuming under Jeff's orders, Troy and Pierce had each taken a seat at either side of the table. They looked to be mutually disgruntled and Shirley was hovering a good distance away, her arms folded crossly.
"Abed has something he'd like to say," I told everyone, setting the knife alongside the cake.
"Right," Abed said, scanning his audience. "Shirley, I'm sorry about the cake. I honestly didn't know what it was going to look like. Sometimes people are confused by my unnervingly candid nature and the fact that I speak very quickly. As Troy will attest, it can cause them to take my words a little too literally. And I hope you know that I would never deliberately use your likeness to appeal to Pierce's more prurient interests."
"Hey!" Pierce yelped.
"And Pierce, I'm sorry about your prurient interests. But Annie and I did get you a boxed set of Racquel Welch DVD's."
Pierce blinked, his frown loosening. "That's better."
"And Troy, that's not Shirley. No more than Jesus was on that pepperoni."
Troy trembled. "But… he spoke to me."
"Oh, Abed," Shirley interrupted all of a sudden. "I'm so sorry I hit you like that. I didn't mean to. Did it hurt?"
"I saw stars," Abed said flatly. "Just remind me to never make you mad again."
"Aw," she cooed, but then her eyes flashed warningly to everybody else. "You all best remember that, too."
"I've got the beer!" Britta chirped, handing bottles around. "Everybody take one and—oh, okay, not everyone," she said quickly, noticing Shirley's displeasure. "But everybody else. And Annie's gonna light the candles, right Annie?"
"Yup. Jeff, you can cut the cake."
"Lucky me," he said dully. "Which one do you want, Troy? Breast or thigh?"
Troy began to cry again and it was at least five more minutes before any of us were able to sing Happy Birthday.
x
Two and a half hours later the party was just beginning to wind down. Pierce was snoring on the couch, his big oversized body hanging half off its side. The music was still on and Troy and Britta were dancing loosely to Sounds of the 80's in the corner. Jeff was in the bathroom and Shirley and I were in the kitchen, cleaning up.
"Where's Abed?" she asked.
"Oh, he slipped into the Dreamatorium ten minutes ago. I think he's fighting scum on the streets of Gotham right about now..."
"Don't you ever join him?"
"Sometimes. But it's better not to sneak up on him when he's in super hero mode. It takes a lot out of him and he gets extra finicky."
"Well, the party was fun, wasn't it?"
"Much better than last year," I agreed. "Although I think we may have to roll out some sleeping bags."
"I can take Britta home. She's on the way."
"Okay. Just not yet…" I said, noticing that she and Troy were now dancing a bit closer, and her head had fallen on his shoulder.
"Annie." Shirley poked me.
"Yeah?"
"Seems to me like you had a good time playing house tonight."
"What do you mean?" I asked, unsure of whether the comment warranted a frown or a smile. Was Shirley teasing me?
"Oh, you know, being the hostess. You're a natural."
I softened. "Thanks, Shirley. That's really nice of you to say."
"And Abed was happy, too."
"I'll bet he was. That present was as much for him as it was Troy," I said, souring. It was already bad enough every time Troy and Abed got hold of a new video game, but an entirely new console seemed infinitely worse. I knew it was silly to feel threatened by a piece of machinery but I couldn't help it. And leave it to Jeff Winger to once again outdo everybody else in the gift-giving department. Now with a Playstation and an Xbox on the premises, I feared that I'd have to work twice as hard to get Abed's attention…
"No, not the present," Shirley told me, breaking through my thoughts. "I meant his being around you. He was very relaxed."
I started. "You think so?"
"Annie," she said bluntly, "the boy is smitten."
I smiled and went back to cleaning my plate, running the sponge around its rings slowly. Shirley's words had worked magic, and I was already feeling much better about the stupid Xbox.
"So how many dates is that already?" she asked me.
"I guess four, if you count yesterday. The museum was definitely the best. I'm thinking of taking him to an exhibit he'd be interested in. Something cinema. Or maybe tech? I don't know. I'll need to do some research…"
"Guys, I'm headed out," Jeff announced.
Shirley and I both looked over our shoulders. My cheeks grew hot as I wondered how much of my Abed gushing Jeff had overheard.
"You're leaving already?" Shirley said.
"Yeah, 'fraid so," he answered, bending down and giving her a hug. "I already said goodnight to Troy and Britta. But I need to know if Pierce is spending the night because if so I can come get him in the morning…?"
"You don't have to do that. One of us will drive him," I said, putting the plate on the dish rack and untying my apron. "Hang on a second, let me walk you down."
"It's okay," he said quickly, and he was hot on his heels to leave.
"No, I insist," I said, rushing to his side and smiling sunnily up at him. I'd been working extra hard for days now to get Jeff to be a little less distant towards me. I wanted him to know that I was still sorry about the whole Britta incident. I realized he wasn't trying to punish me, but then again he hadn't been especially warm towards me as of late. At least, not the way he used to be…
"Some night, huh?" Jeff commented as we made our way down the stairs.
"I thought it was fun."
"Sure it was."
"Oh, good. So you enjoyed yourself."
Jeff's brow furrowed. "Did I not look like I was enjoying myself?"
"Not especially, no."
He stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and examined me curiously. "Are you trying to say something here, Annie?"
"No." I leaned against the railing and stared back. My head was still a little light from that second rum and coke. "Maybe I'm just feeling a little melancholy."
"But you're smiling," he pointed out.
"Well, it was a fun night," I said, teetering from side to side before looking to my feet. I felt a little embarrassed now… having insisted on walking him down here. I don't know how I imagined our little farewell going, but I didn't think the conversation would be quite so stilted.
It's always going to be weird now, I thought. And it's all my fault…
"It was a nice party, Annie," Jeff told me.
"I know," I said, lifting my face.
Even though I was two steps above him, Jeff had no trouble dropping a kiss on the top of my head. I blinked a little as I watched him walk away, brushing my hand up past my hairline and taking off my headband. I scratched at my scalp but the itch was there. Pestering me.
By the time I was back in the apartment the girls had taken cue from Jeff and were putting on their coats, readying to leave. I knocked outside the Dreamatorium and heard a gravelly voice respond.
"Is that you, Rachel?"
"Yes. Do you mind if I speak to Abed, Bruce—I mean, Batman?"
"That can be arranged."
I heard some shuffling and then Abed opened the door, his cape still hanging behind him although he was no longer wearing his mask. "Is the party over?"
"Just about. Jeff already left."
"Oh. Did he forget to say goodbye?
My lips parted in surprise. "Um, I think he just didn't want to bother you when you were in there."
Abed shrugged. "Okay."
"Come on," I said. "Come say bye to Britta and Shirley."
Later that evening, when it finally was just him and me, Abed kissed me goodnight before retiring to the blanket fort. It didn't leave an itch, but it did make me think about him all night. And Shirley's observations. How sweet and promising they were…
