Writing Soundtrack: the "Jeff/Annie Sexy Fanmix (NBC Community)" playlist on Songza.

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pour a little salt, we were never here

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The two prisoners lay next to each other on the futon, not touching, eyes on the dimly lit ceiling. After days in a shared space they didn't need to cross the room to be distant with each other. Hours had passed since The Incident (as Jeff referred to it) and whatever inspiring bug had spurred Annie to pursue her own solution to their predicament was long gone.

Despite his much-lauded experience with the opposite sex, Jeff couldn't put two thoughts together long enough to have a plan for what should happen next, much less act on it. Everything about this was alien to his experience, from Annie's dramatic mood swings to intensity of their oral sex act. Jeff hadn't come so hard in, well, at least a year. And it couldn't all have been because of Annie, he was intuitive enough to know that much. Maybe it was the surprise she'd given him, the terror of their circumstances, or just the fact that he'd avoided a hook up with Annie for so long, but The Incident had shaken Jeffrey Winger. The present and the future were slipping out of his control—or had never been in his control. On top of that panicky thought, Jeff's brain was stuck in a psychological loop where every time he looked at Annie, he saw nothing but a vision of her going down on his cock.

That image would be with him for life, Jeff knew. He could be ninety (if they ever got out of this cell), and he'd be able to pull up a high-definition, picture-perfect memory of Annie's lips making a wet pop as she pulled away from him like a used up piece of candy. This delectable scene was then followed by the worst post-sex episode of Jeff's life as they'd waited for approval like a couple of bionic test monkeys. Clearly, Annie had hoped for some reaction from their captors, or she wouldn't have made the sex decision without him. Jeff's whole involvement in this scenario was to sit there like a moron and let the situation play out between Annie and the cameras, too stunned to help or hinder her agenda. When no response was forthcoming, Annie's next decision was to lie down and pretend the world didn't exist. Jeff saw no point in interfering with that plan, either.

He couldn't imagine what Annie was feeling right now, and that scared Jeff the most. Did she enjoy it? Did it mean anything to her? His own reaction hung in the air between them, but she kept her feelings closed up. If she didn't want to talk, then he certainly wasn't going to, but the ambiguity gnawed at Jeff. He worried that something might be broken forever in this room, sacrificed permanently to their captivity.

After a while, the traumatized friends drifted into sleep, alone together in their domestic prison.

This time Jeff woke up first, face hot and blood racing, but he relaxed when his eyes opened to the empty ceiling. He halfheartedly observed new food dishes by the door, then turned his back to them in favor of watching his bed-mate.

Across the futon, Annie slept on her side facing him. Her clothes were looking a little grubby, and their light blanket only covered up to her waist. Jeff imagined tracing her features with his finger, even bringing his hand up in temptation. After a long minute he retracted it, deciding not to risk waking her with the contact. As she slept, Jeff re-examined their predicament for the thousandth time, discarding ideas until he settled into the cold grip of reality. When Annie woke at last to see his eyes across the bed from hers, Jeff was ready.

He brought her the food and water, waited while she used the curtained-off stall, then suggested she to sit down in tone that brooked no argument. Annie rolled her eyes, and he thought she might turn her back again, but after a few seconds she folded her legs and faced him.

"Annie," he said, "We have to talk. You up for it?"

She gave a noncommittal shrug, which Jeff took as approval. Standing, the former lawyer looked around for the cameras he couldn't quite see, but were probably hidden in the vents that took air and and out of the room. Sucking up his pride, he called on the powers that be.

"Hey, assholes! We need music." No voice responded, but there was no punishing knock-out tricks, either. Good so far, he figured. "We need soothing music, but played loudly. It, uh, helps the mood." After about ten more seconds of silence, unidentifiable "muzak" began. Jeff nodded, then sat back down across from Annie on the floor.

Annie was unimpressed, and winced at the volume. "It won't help. They can still hear us."

"Can't fix that, but the illusion of privacy is better than not." Jeff threw his shoulders back, shook himself like a man gearing up for a fight. "Okay. Okay." He clapped his palms. "Time for the hard truth segment of this fiasco. You ready?"

"Sure," waved Annie listlessly. "Go ahead."

"These people can, already have, and will hurt us. Agreed?"

She shrugged. "Yes."

Directly addressing The Incident was only possible if he approached it with an attorney's detachment, so Jeff did his best to be a different person for what he said next. "Annie, what happened today, that was all wrong. Not the act, trust me, but the circumstances. It was cruel to both of us. Agreed?"

Annie seemed to shrink in on herself, but she met his gaze and nodded, "Yes."

"Good. Now listen, listen Annie, when I tell you that it's not your fault—or mine. They're the ones controlling things. This is their doing. So stop avoiding me, and stop trying to shut down."

Letting loose an enormous sigh, Annie leaned her head back, eyes closed. "Alright," she finally agreed, breathing out as her head came back down. "Their fault, not ours."

Jeff took his own deep breath, swelling up his chest and looking at the the air above her head. Then he let it all out in a whooshing exhale. "Hell, this should be the easiest part," he muttered under his breath. After a pause, Jeff laid out all his cards.

"Annie Edison, I want you."

Taken aback, the young woman in question measured Jeff with her wide, endlessly blue eyes. He refused falter under her examination; if he was going to do this, he was going to do it.

"I mean, that's pretty obvious, given what just happened, but still. God, Annie, I... Aside from relationships or complications, and before all this kidnapping crap, I wanted you. Ever since you took your hair down and smiled at me for debate study." His voice dropped to a whisper when he finished with, "Agreed?"

"Agreed," she said softly. The malaise had left Annie's posture, and apathy was being slowly overcome by thoughtfulness in her expression. In full litigation mode, Jeff barreled on while the going was good.

"You, Annie, want me." As soon as he said the words, a twist of something indescribable marred Jeff's determined features. He swallowed and qualified. "Or some part of me. Agreed?"

Annie scooted forward, and reached to put a hand on his ankle, where the jeans rode up from crossing his legs. His skin was warm, and he felt it when she lightly squeezed. "Since we danced at Halloween," she admitted.

Jeff Winger felt the box that was maybe, almost, his heart lift out of his chest like it was attached to all those balloons in that Pixar movie Troy loved. For a moment Jeff was two places at once: here in a dry cell, and cast aloft in the up-sweep of possibilities long neglected. Of course he knew of Annie's attraction, but to be told directly was affecting Jeff's emotions more than he was used to. He let an awkward smile break, and touched her knee in return, just at the edge of her skirt. They sat cross-legged, considering this new honesty. It was time to move on (there were bigger things to say) but he couldn't help asking for more.

"Which Halloween?"

Annie's little, sad smile could have broken hearts or kindled wars. "The first one."

"Oh," he said. The memory played back over Jeff's vision: her skinny, black costume and Audrey Hepburn pony tail. It was so long ago, before their conspiracy, even prior to the debate against City College. The idea that she'd been aware of him first put a staggering chink in the predatory narrative he'd built so meticulously.

Licking his lips, Jeff inhaled again. "Okay," he said, "Right. Personal question: are you on birth control?"

To her credit, Annie didn't roll her eyes or make a face. Being shy was almost pointless at this stage. "I get the shot," she replied. "But I've been thinking of switching because it makes me crazy for a week afterward."

"Hope you get the chance," he said honestly. "Next is the tricky part. We have to ask for an abeyance."

"I might know what that means," hedged Annie, "But remind me anyway."

"Think of it as similar to a postponement, or a recess."

"Why would they grant us a recess?"

"An abeyance," Jeff corrected. If their lives were depending on this, he was going to get specific. "I think they will, because we're not strangers. We weren't plucked out of the walking tour by random. They knew we were both heterosexual. I don't think they were guessing about that. If they just learned about us from Pierce today, he'd have had them convinced I was gay and you were twelve years old."

Annie gasped-a high, sharp noise Jeff hadn't realized he was missing until that moment. Her eyes got huge with realization as she grabbed his hands in her own. "He said he was invited specifically to this event, and told to bring guests."

Jeff nodded. "I think they were tracking Pierce for whatever reason-probably his sheer gullibility-and they knew about his social circle through him. We were targeted, and I bet Troy and Britta were next in line. It might have been just coincidence we came here instead of them."

"That's sick. And why? Who are they? Mad scientists? Religious cult freaks?" Annie's voice dropped to a hiss. "Jeff, are they aliens?"

"Who they are doesn't matter," he pointed out. "It may seem important, but it's not. They've hurt us, kept us prisoner, and I think they could do so in our normal lives just as easily in here."

Shuddering, Annie scooted closer until their knees touched and their heads bent close together. "Thanks for that scary thought. I had this dream that once this was over, it'd be over."

"I can't promise that, but I've been thinking about this scenario. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't work. They threatened us, but they've also offered us the illusion of a bed, the comfort of a friend instead of a stranger." His voiced dropped to a near whisper. "Even the promise that if we participate, we'll be unharassed. I don't think they care about hurting us, it's incidental. I think they really want what they're asking for: some kind of sexual demonstration."

Skeptical for how this was an advantage, Annie acknowledged that he was onto something. "So what's your big Winger plan then?"

"I want to go home, Annie. I want to convince them that we can't have sex here, under threat of torture, if they want a real study of human connection. If they bothered to take our sexual orientation into consideration, then they put some value on cultural mores. I can exploit that."

"Wait, Jeff, think about what you're suggesting." Her voice got higher, stress bleeding through: "You want to let them into our homes? It's bad enough here, but to—to—perform in my apartment or yours, knowing someone's watching? It would only take those places away from us too. I don't want to give them any part of us we don't have to."

Jeff took one hand from Annie's clenched palms and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, what about a hotel? We can make it a fantasy, trick ourselves into thinking we're alone. At least we can feel like we're taking part of a normal human activity then."

Annie lifted her right hand, bringing it up to Jeff's cheek. She rested there, warm and soft. "It's still going to hurt us both. You felt that as much as I did."

Knowing it would cost him, Jeff closed his eyes and said what he'd been avoiding since the start: "I can't save us, Annie."

Everything he wanted to be for Annie, for himself, lived and died with that admission.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he breathed in a spill of words. "You deserve a fighter, or a superhero, Annie. But no matter what crazy things we get into at Greendale, that's not who I am when cards fall. If I'm really cornered, negotiating is all I know how to do." Jeff's voice cracked, but he forced out the words. "This is what I can give you."

Jeff tried to blink away the water in his eyes, but it was hard when Annie looked at him with a tear running down her own cheek. "Goddamnit," she cursed, voice thick, and brought his forehead to touch hers. Eyes closed, they drew strength from the physical contact.

"I hate them for doing this to us, and I hate them for making you feel that you're not enough for me," said Annie in a desperate condemnation. "I don't care what you have to say to get us out. If something has to happen, I choose the fantasy."

"Okay," agreed Jeff. "Just follow my lead."