title: when you might lose a parking space, all bets are off
characters: jeff winger, annie edison, professor whitman, jeremy simmons
setting: greendale gymnasium (Debate 109)
pairing(s): jeff x annie
word count: 491
When an overly competitive jag in a wheelchair is spontaneously flying through the air towards you in their efforts to win a community college debate, any normal person's reaction would be to catch him, right?
Right. And to be perfectly honest, Jeff Winger is one of the few normal people on Greendale's campus (according to his own not-so-humble opinion, of course. You can't ignore the facts). The moments following his catch and fail? One of the most abnormal moments of his life.
A few things. First, Simmons reeks of cheap cologne and what can only be described as burnt cheese (Jeff figures this is the smell of loosing a prime parking space and public humiliation). Second, Annie's hands are remarkably strong - tiny and soft, and bizarre given the current situation. Third...
She shouldn't be able to kiss this well. She's eighteen (oh god, she's eighteen) for chrissakes. They're supposed to be all spit and tongue and-
(Wait, is he trying to tongue her? What is happening?)
Simmons is a dead weight, getting in the way of more important things. And all of those things happen to be or belong to Annie in some way. Jeff's brain (can't tell you which one) knows that nothing is more important than getting as physically close as he possibly can to her tiny, debate-sweater clad figure.
But apparently she doesn't have the same mind-set. In fact, she pulls away, triumphant and proud as she explains that man is evil. Jeff is dumbfounded.
(Her hands stay on his chest, and he wants to argue that woman is just as bad).
And just like that, Greendale wins, and she turns to him with a perky smile, peppily asking how well she went off-book. Because that's who Annie is: she takes the advice you give her, and warps it so that it fits into her own diabolical little needs, which, coincidentally helps you (him. helps him) out in the process. She wont take no for an answer, even if that means making out with the nearest, best looking guy in front of a loaded gymnasium.
Everyone's babbling and bustling around, completely unaware of Jeff's near-oblivious state. Whitman claps him heartily on the shoulder before departing with the Dean, shaking him out of... whatever that was.
(Shock, is was it is. It's mostly shock. And the knowledge to never underestimate Annie ever again).
Outside, she's a bit more shy, but doesn't seem the least bit embarrassed over what she did. She says to just pat her on the head again, but that'sway more difficult now knowing the feel of her hips beneath his hands.
Jeff does it anyway. Y'know, to save face.
But it's not like he went home that night and thought about the damn moment over and over again, because that's not the kind of guy Jeff Winger is. Jeff Winger is the type of guy who makes you think about him, not the surreal moment that passed between himself and an eighteen year old girl.
Except he totally does.
so this is actually supposed to be part of a much longer one-shot, but i've been impatient to post this, so i guess you could say this is just a little taste of things to come!