Now It's Just You and Your Queen (1/1)
Title: Now It's Just You and Your Queen (1/1)
Author: office_bluth
Spoilers: This is set after Conventions of Space and Time, and references Annie's storyline in that episode.
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word Count: 4636
Disclaimer: I apparently don't own anything from Community, or from "She Said Yes" by Mumford and Sons, from which the title comes.
Summary: "You got to pretend to be married to me. I think it’s my turn to see what being married to Annie Edison would be like.”
Author's Note: After months of writer's block, I finally got inspired to write fic again. Yay! As always, thanks to my BFF/life partner/amazing beta jennynoname for being wonderful.
It’s a long drive back from the convention center. Annie had driven there with her roommates, but ever since Troy and Abed made up, they’ve been talking about the night-long Inspector Spacetime marathon they’ll be having as soon as they get home, and Annie just can’t deal with that for another two hours. So she caught up with Jeff just before he found his car in the parking lot and asked for a ride home.
The lights from the streetlamps dance on the road in front of them, and part of Annie wants to get up and join them. But she’s exhausted after a long day of lounging around the hotel, and she knows Jeff would never join her. They haven’t said much on the drive, but she thinks he’s just as tired.
A car passes and briefly illuminates the interior of Jeff’s Lexus. He glances over at her suddenly, as if he’d forgotten she’s there. Then he frowns a little and asks her a question.
“Do you want to marry me tonight?”
Suddenly the tranquility of the night seems suffocating. Annie would give anything for it to be light out, or for the car to stop rolling along and let her escape. Her eyes widen as she looks at him. “I’m sorry. What?”
He looks just as surprised. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t know why I worded it like that. You got to pretend to be married to me. I think it’s my turn to see what being married to Annie Edison would be like.”
Annie relaxes. Her heart’s still pounding, but the ice that had gripped her whole body starts to melt. “Oh. Okay. Don’t do me like that, Pat Sajak.” She winces. “That one didn’t work so well. Sorry, my brain is still recovering from exploding.”
“Not your best work, Captain Kirk,” Jeff mumbles. He looks over at her as he stops at a red light. They’re close to Greendale now, enough that Jeff felt comfortable getting off the highway a few miles back. Annie isn’t totally sure where they are, but Jeff seems know what he’s doing, so she’s not worried. “So the game. Are we doing this? Do you want to play?”
She knows she should say no. Getting too close to Jeff like this has always ended badly for her, and she’d promised herself after one too many close calls that she wouldn’t get her hopes up again. But it’s a game, one she had played this very afternoon. Not playing might make Jeff think there was something shameful in it, like maybe he should be worried over her actions after all. And besides - they were supposed to spend the day together. She’d be stupid to give up the opportunity to spend time with her friend.
“Yeah, I want to play.”
“Okay,” Jeff says with a nod. “So. What are the rules?”
She giggles. “There aren’t any rules. You just do whatever you want to do.”
He sighs loudly. “Okay, looks like it’s once again up to me to make something not lame. Let’s see. We’ll play all night, let’s say until…” They both glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s a little before midnight; Annie’s usually just climbing into bed, but she can make an exception every now and then. “6 AM?” Jeff continues. “First person to take off their wedding ring before that time loses.”
Wait. “We have wedding rings?” Her eyebrows knit together. Usually when she pretends to be married to him, she doesn’t get so in-depth.
“We will as soon as we find two ring-shaped objects,” he says as if that should have been obvious. “Next rule. No fighting about real stuff. We’re not gonna use this as an excuse to work things out between us.”
Annie’s not sure what he’s referring to, but he seems pretty adamant about it. It’s fine with her - she doesn’t have anything she needs to say to him, and even if she did, she’d let it take a backseat to her rare opportunity to have fun with Jeff. “Okay.”
“Okay. Last rule.” Jeff holds up a finger. “No talking to our friends. Someone texts us, we ignore it. No one pops our bubble. That’s what marriage is, after all, right?”
“Sure,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“So do you agree to my terms?” She hums in agreement, staring out the window. They’re in the nice part of town, a few neighborhoods away from where she grew up. She knew someone in junior high who lived around here, in a house with a huge lawn and high windows offering glances into its three stories. That girl’s father was a doctor, Annie thinks, or maybe a lawyer or accountant or something. Annie always imagined herself living in a house like that one day, with a husband who loved her and kids to worry over and enough happiness to make her feel like it had all been worth it.
Jeff taps her knee. “Annie?”
“Hm?” She snaps out of her thought. “What?”
“The rules. Are they okay?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, they’re fine. I agree.”
Jeff sits up straighter. “Wait, no, actual last rule. I hold the right to add any additional rules at any time.”
Annie rubs her temple like she’s in pain. “Of course you do.”
“What do you want to do first, Mrs. Winger?” Jeff asks, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. “What’s something married people do?”
“Generally I think they do the same things single people do,” Annie says. “Unless you know a guy who can get us into the super secret club for married people.”
Jeff scoffs. “Hey, I’m just trying to get the most out of this. Sure, we can go to a bar or get dinner, or something, but we can do that any day we want. I want to do something that would feel different if we were married.”
Annie leans her head against her seat, trying to think of something to do. She loves when Jeff gets excited like this over something. It happens every so often, and while it’s usually to the study group’s benefit, it’s not something as endearing as this. And it’s certainly never over the prospect of spending time with her - just her, no one else. She’s pretended to be married hundreds of times, but hearing someone call you Mrs. Winger or Mrs. Efron as they take your Chinese food order or cut your hair isn’t the same as this. She’s actually excited for the next six hours - they have to make the most out of it.
“We can go see a movie?” she suggests. “We’ll stage a fight in line for popcorn and then have a really loud conversation halfway through the movie about whether or not we should call the babysitter. That’s something married people do, right?”
“I don’t know,” Jeff says thoughtfully. “And if we’re only playing for six hours, I don’t want to spend a third of that time in silence.” He turns onto a street that takes them deeper into the neighborhood, where the houses seem to keep growing in size all down the street. He pulls over, turning off the engine. “I couldn’t concentrate. Okay. Something married people do.”
Annie looks out the window while she lets him think. The house they parked in front of looks like the one she remembers, but this one is only two stories. There’s a stone path leading from the driveway to the three small steps up to the front door, with a white rocking chair placed at the end of the porch. She smiles. She didn’t think anyone actually had rocking chairs on their front porches outside of movies. It looks like a nice house, with a family that clearly cares about it. That makes her happy. A house like this deserves good owners.
“You really like these houses, huh?”
She registers his question, but doesn’t respond right away.
“They’re really pretty,” she says finally, dragging herself away from the view. “Don’t you think so?”
Jeff looks out his window. Annie can’t see the house across the street clearly, but it looks almost identical to the one on her right. In fact, most of the houses look alike, at least in the dark. There are a few details here and there - different color paint, columns, fences around the yards - to set them apart, but otherwise they all seem to be built identically. Annie likes that. She wouldn’t mind living in a community like this, where the houses look like twins and strangers.
“That one’s for sale,” Jeff notes. Then he takes out his phone. Annie would normally roll her eyes, but she’s actually surprised she’s seen him without it for as long as she has.
He puts it back in his pocket after a minute, and they lapse into silence. Sometimes when Annie’s in neighborhoods like this, she likes to look at the houses and imagine how many people live in them. Sometimes it’s obvious based on the number of cars, or in the summertime when toys and inflatable pools are scattered over the lawn, but she’s never correct. Well, maybe she is, but she has no way of knowing for sure. It’s a game she plays without hope of victory. It just makes her feel content, for some reason.
But she doesn’t feel the need to play it tonight. She’s already playing a game, one she doesn’t intend on quitting. “Should we try and figure out where to go?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jeff says, his hand moving to his pocket. He doesn’t grab his phone, but his fingers curl inward over the fabric. “In a minute.”
Then his phone buzzes, perfectly timed. He grabs it and looks at the screen, then up at her. “I know where we can go.”
He’s unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door before Annie can process what’s happening. The streetlights are bright enough that she can see him cross in front of the car, then walk around to her side. “Milady,” he says with a mock bow as he opens her door.
“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously, eyeing the hand he extends towards her.
He sighs, his shoulders dropping. “Come on, Annie, that’s not your line.”
“Jeff,” she warns.
“Okay, fine,” he says. “I know the realtor for the house across the street, and he owes me a favor, so I texted him and asked if he would give me the code to the lockbox so we could go inside.”
She freezes. He wants to take her inside her dream house? “But…what about the owners?” she asks. “Won’t they know?”
Jeff shrugs. “They’re renovating the basement to help the house sell, so they’ve been staying at a hotel. Annie, really, no one will know that we were there. Come on. We’re married, right? Let’s go home.”
She knows there are about a million things wrong with this, but the protests die in her throat. She hasn’t been in a house this beautiful (at least one without a private sex dungeon) in years, but she’s always daydreamed about it. And if the realtor said it was okay…
Annie reaches out for his hand. He helps her get out of the car, and they walk across the street together. Annie’s never seen a lockbox before, and Jeff doesn’t seem to have too much experience with them; he fumbles with the combination for a moment, and then it pops open, revealing a small brass key.
“Welcome home, my love,” he says in a terrible British accent as he unlocks the door. Annie rolls her eyes, but grins, as she moves past him to enter the house. Jeff grabs her wrist, pulling her back.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “It’s our wedding day. We have tradition to uphold.”
Before she can ask what he means, he slides his arm across her shoulders and bends down to grab her legs. “Jeff, don’t you dare,” she starts, but she’s in the air before she can properly deliver her threat. The last word turns into a scream as she instinctively wraps her arms around his neck.
“You’re so dramatic,” he says as he carries her inside. He takes two steps before he sets her back down.
“Yes, it’s one of my biggest flaws,” she says flatly. Jeff looks around, then finds a light switch a few feet away. It quickly becomes too bright; she has to squint for a moment while her eyes adjust. Once she can look around without wincing, she gasps. They’re standing in a long hallway, directly in front of a staircase that ascends towards shadows. The wall, decorated with picture frames, gives way into a room that, judging by its dark shapes, is probably the living area.
“Jeff,” Annie squeals as she walks down the hallway. The hardwood floors stretch in front of her, leading her to an open room containing the kitchen and two doors, one leading outside and one presumably to a bathroom. The cabinets are dark, but the whole space still feels open and inviting, so much so that Annie feels as if she’s seen it every day for years.
He follows her into the kitchen, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms as she throws herself onto one of the barstools at the large kitchen island. “I feel like I’m in a Food Network show kitchen,” she says, her voice low. “Oh my god, Jeff, look, they have two ovens.”
“Living the dream,” he says. Then he straightens. “Are you hungry?”
She’s surprised by the sudden question. “I could eat.”
“I’ll run out and get us something,” he says. “That’s what husbands do, right? Put food on the table?”
“You manly man, you,” she says affectionately. Jeff tells her he’ll be back soon, then turns and heads back down the hallway. Annie unzips her coat and piles it neatly on top of the island. And then she starts exploring.
By the time Jeff gets back, she’s memorized the layout of the house. “The basement’s looking pretty nice,” she tells him as he unpacks a plastic bag. “I think all the construction’s done. They’ve started painting it and everything, so I’m sure the furniture will be there soon.”
“The 7-11 down the street didn’t have much,” Jeff tells her. “But I got popcorn and some French Bread pizza. You know, to remind you of our honeymoon.”
Annie frowns, not getting it.
“I decided we went to Paris on our honeymoon,” Jeff clarifies. “Just go with it.”
She smiles at him, then ducks her head. She usually comes up with backstory for her relationship when she’s pretending to be married, but they’re usually spur-of-the-moment. Jeff’s actually thought their “relationship” over and made it real in a way that both terrifies and excites her. What Annie originally thought was just a stupid game might actually be kind of important to him.
She can hear him moving around as she preheats the oven for their frozen pizza. Then he brushes her back and his hands are loosely grabbing her wrist from behind. “I got something else, too,” he says. His hand disappears for a moment; then, when he touches her again, she feels something cold and prickly. Annie frowns, then looks down to see what’s going on.
Jeff put a wrapped Ring Pop in her hand. Her fingers close around it, and she wants to ask what this means, but all she can think about is how close he is. It wouldn’t take more than a second to turn around and reach up to him and -
“It was the only ring-shaped object I could find,” he explains, cutting off her thought. “I got one for me, too. And remember - whoever takes it off first loses.”
For the first time, she sees a large plastic ring on his finger, with a red piece of candy on top. It’s so weirdly adorable that she can’t help but turn around. Her fingers tighten around the package in her hand as she looks at him, biting her lip as she tries to decide. Yes, she thinks. Yes, this is what needs to happen. She rises on her tiptoes as he ducks his head, and they’re so painfully close when Jeff suddenly stops, their lips just inches apart.
“New rule,” he says softly, his breath tickling her skin. “No kissing.”
Annie pouts. “That’s a terrible rule.”
“No, it’s not,” Jeff says, though he doesn’t sound too sure. “This is supposed to be a fantasy. But in reality, if I was allowed to kiss you whenever I wanted, I would never be able to stop.”
Her heart stops. “You can kiss me anytime you want to.”
She’s not sure what compelled her to say that, but it’s true. She’s made it very clear to him in the past that she’d be more than happy if he finally admitted he had feelings for her; the problem was he never actually acted on it. The true unspoken agreement between them is that she’s ready whenever he is. For as many times as she’s tried to move on and forget about her stupid, inconvenient feelings for Jeff Winger, something always pulls them back together. So while she’s done forcing him along, she knows that she wouldn’t hesitate for a second if he was finally ready. Yes, he can kiss her whenever he wants to. Or he can take her hand or hold her tight or love her desperately and ridiculously. She has always, always been his. And sometimes she thinks he’s always been hers.
Jeff shakes his head. “Don’t feel like you owe me anything just because I bought you a candy ring.”
Then he’s laughing, and she’s slapping his chest, which just makes him laugh harder. Annie can’t help but join him. After all, a kitchen like this deserves happiness. It should be a place where people can laugh.
Their pizza takes a while to cook, so they microwave the popcorn while they wait. Jeff tries to start a popcorn war, but apparently Annie draws the line somewhere when it comes to what is and isn’t acceptable when squatting in someone else’s home, so he’s left disappointed.
They move to the living room after they eat. There’s a large fireplace, but Jeff studies it for a moment and tells Annie it looks like it hasn’t been used in years. But seeing it makes them both want to curl up on the couch anyway, so he pulls up a YouTube video of the Yule Log and props up his phone on the coffee table.
He pours them both glasses of cheap wine he bought from 7-11. Annie curls her fingers around the stem of her filched wine glass and holds it against her shoulder, her feet tucked underneath her. Jeff sits close to her, but given the circumstances of the night and the warmth spreading all over her, Annie can’t quite decide if it’s dangerous or not.
By their third glass of wine, they’ve started talking about school. Not their friends or the chaos that seems to follow them, but what they want to do after they graduate. Annie always knew Jeff was getting his law degree, but she’s surprised to hear that he’s been thinking about taking journalism classes, too.
“I mean, obviously it’d just be a side thing,” he explains. “I could take classes at night and still work at a law firm. But it was kind of fun when I worked on the paper. And now that it’s too late, I’m kind of realizing that I didn’t really let myself have fun these last four years.”
Annie frowns. “You’ve had fun,” she challenges. “We’ve played paintball, and you know you had a good time at Abed’s birthday party last year. Admit it. You like us.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Jeff says as he drains his glass. He grabs the wine from the table and gestures toward her glass. She holds it out, letting him refill it.
“Yes, you do,” she says. “Come on. You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t have a soft spot.”
He twists his mouth, idly drifting his wine glass in small circles. “What do you mean?”
She doesn’t know, really. She hadn’t intended on saying it like that, but it’s still kind of true. “I just. I think I know you better than you think I do.”
Jeff covers her hand with her own. “Annie,” he says, his voice low in his throat. “I think this is getting dangerously close to using tonight as an opportunity to work out issues between us.”
That wasn’t where she was going with that, but if he wants to drop it, she’ll drop it. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to.”
He looks satisfied, but he doesn’t take his hand away. His thumb starts tracing circles over her knuckle. She’s wouldn’t even be sure he knows he’s doing it if it wasn’t for the fact that his gaze hadn’t strayed from hers.
“Jeff,” she says softly. She doesn’t know how to follow it up, so she just lets his name linger on her lips, waiting for him to say something and decide how this plays out.
Finally, his eyes fall to her hand. “You haven’t been eating your Ring Pop,” he notices. And then he brings her hand to his mouth and slowly licks the candy on top of her finger. Annie can’t remember how to breathe for a minute.
“If we’re not allowed to kiss, you’re definitely not allowed to do that,” she says finally. Her belly is warm, maybe from that or the wine, maybe both. It’s nice, though distracting; it feels like a hook sinking into her insides and tugging her down, down, down into something she can’t quite name.
“Sorry,” he says, looking rather proud of himself. “Won’t happen again.”
It doesn’t. Annie doesn’t know whether or not she’s disappointed.
Sometime later, they move off the couch. She doesn’t know when, but it’s later enough that she’s lost track of how many glasses of wine she’s had. Jeff follows her idly, neither of them really knowing where they want to end up. They eventually find themselves in the dining room, across the entranceway from the living room, flat on their backs and staring up at the dining room table.
“Do you think Troy and Britta are happy?” he asks suddenly. Annie doesn’t know where it comes from, but she’s been wondering that herself over the last few months. She knows the answer, of course.
“Yeah, I do,” she says. “They get each other in this weird way that makes total sense now that I see it. You know?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m glad. I want them to be happy.”
This is, by far, the most unexpected sentiment he’s uttered all night. Annie looks at him, her eyes wide in surprise. After a moment, Jeff rolls his head over towards her. “What?” He drags out the syllables.
“Nothing,” she says, smiling. “It’s just that you’re not normally this nice.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks. “I’m always nice.” The words are barely even out of his mouth before he starts laughing. It’s full-bodied and rich, the kind that opens you up to everyone around you, and she can’t help but join in.
“You couldn’t even say that with a straight face,” she says, shoving his shoulder.
“I know, I know,” Jeff says, wiping away tears. “I am many things, Annie, but I’m not humble. Even when it’s for the sake of comedy.”
Their laughter settles down eventually, but she’s left thinking about her question. She never got an actual answer from him. “Why are you being so nice tonight?”
Jeff looks at her intently for a moment. Then something in his face shifts. “It’s a game, right? I’m just. I don’t know. Playing along as much as possible.”
Annie’s not totally sure what that means, but she thinks she knows what he’s getting at. Still.., “So. If you were married to someone…” She hesitates, tapping her thumb against her stomach. “This is how you’d treat them?”
Jeff looks at her again, then rolls his whole body over. He’s pointed directly towards her, and she feels herself curving into him in response. “Yes, Annie. If I was married to you, this is how I’d treat you.”
She can feel her cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Jeff scoffs and falls onto his back. Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. “It doesn’t have to be like ‘that’. Everything with us is about something else,” he says sternly. But he’s not angry. He sounds like he’s given it a great deal of thought. “So I’m not thinking about anything else, okay? I’m just saying something as a general statement. I’m not reading anything into what you say.”
She nods, focusing again on the underside of the table. He’s right. All their dancing around has left them with some untouchable topics, ones that she has to constantly avoid even brushing upon. But she’s tired of all their words being weighed down by double meanings. “I think you’d be a good husband.”
And he would. Maybe for her, maybe not. But he’s intelligent, and considerate when he wants to be, and he’d do anything for the people he loves. And, most importantly, he’d only marry someone if it was absolutely right. Whoever married Jeff Winger would know without a doubt that they were deeply and overwhelmingly loved.
One corner of his mouth twitches. “You’d be a good wife, Annie.”
Suddenly the candy on her finger feels heavy. She raises her hand, takes the candy in her mouth, and bites down, leaving just the plastic ring.
- - -
Her eyelids are heavy by the time the sun starts coming up. They’re still under the table when the rays start casting long shadows on the floor, just inches from Annie’s face. She watches them, her breath caught in her throat.
“Annie,” Jeff says quietly. It’s been a while since either of them has spoken, and his voice sounds froggy. “It’s almost six.”
She rolls over, surprised by that. She hasn’t been keeping track of time - in fact, her phone has been in the kitchen all night.
“Our marriage is almost over,” she says. “What’d you think?”
Jeff shrugs into the floor. “Guess it could have been worse,” he says. “But now I understand why you pretend sometimes.”
She still doesn’t know if she totally understands why she does it, or what it provides her, but at least he doesn’t think it’s a stupid, immature habit. “Thanks for marrying me,” she says, but really what she thinks she means is, “Thanks for taking me seriously.”
Half of his mouth curls upward. “It was my pleasure, Annie,” he says, with a long, slow blink. His hair has flattened over the course of their night, and now falls down an inch across his forehead. So this is Jeff Winger in the morning, something Annie never thought she’d see.
“I guess we should get up,” Annie says softly.
“Yeah, probably.” But neither of them move. They stare at each other, inches apart, still with distance between them but close enough that his features blur together. She’s never seen him this close before. They’ve been closer, of course, but her eyes were always closed. She doesn’t know how she can be closer to him with a few inches of space between them than she can when their entire bodies are touching.
He reaches over and takes her hand. The sun’s risen now, enough that the whole room is illuminated. She watches him scoot closer to her, and as the alarm on his phone starts blaring to announce the end of their game, he lowers his mouth to hers.
Author: office_bluth
Spoilers: This is set after Conventions of Space and Time, and references Annie's storyline in that episode.
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word Count: 4636
Disclaimer: I apparently don't own anything from Community, or from "She Said Yes" by Mumford and Sons, from which the title comes.
Summary: "You got to pretend to be married to me. I think it’s my turn to see what being married to Annie Edison would be like.”
Author's Note: After months of writer's block, I finally got inspired to write fic again. Yay! As always, thanks to my BFF/life partner/amazing beta jennynoname for being wonderful.
It’s a long drive back from the convention center. Annie had driven there with her roommates, but ever since Troy and Abed made up, they’ve been talking about the night-long Inspector Spacetime marathon they’ll be having as soon as they get home, and Annie just can’t deal with that for another two hours. So she caught up with Jeff just before he found his car in the parking lot and asked for a ride home.
The lights from the streetlamps dance on the road in front of them, and part of Annie wants to get up and join them. But she’s exhausted after a long day of lounging around the hotel, and she knows Jeff would never join her. They haven’t said much on the drive, but she thinks he’s just as tired.
A car passes and briefly illuminates the interior of Jeff’s Lexus. He glances over at her suddenly, as if he’d forgotten she’s there. Then he frowns a little and asks her a question.
“Do you want to marry me tonight?”
Suddenly the tranquility of the night seems suffocating. Annie would give anything for it to be light out, or for the car to stop rolling along and let her escape. Her eyes widen as she looks at him. “I’m sorry. What?”
He looks just as surprised. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t know why I worded it like that. You got to pretend to be married to me. I think it’s my turn to see what being married to Annie Edison would be like.”
Annie relaxes. Her heart’s still pounding, but the ice that had gripped her whole body starts to melt. “Oh. Okay. Don’t do me like that, Pat Sajak.” She winces. “That one didn’t work so well. Sorry, my brain is still recovering from exploding.”
“Not your best work, Captain Kirk,” Jeff mumbles. He looks over at her as he stops at a red light. They’re close to Greendale now, enough that Jeff felt comfortable getting off the highway a few miles back. Annie isn’t totally sure where they are, but Jeff seems know what he’s doing, so she’s not worried. “So the game. Are we doing this? Do you want to play?”
She knows she should say no. Getting too close to Jeff like this has always ended badly for her, and she’d promised herself after one too many close calls that she wouldn’t get her hopes up again. But it’s a game, one she had played this very afternoon. Not playing might make Jeff think there was something shameful in it, like maybe he should be worried over her actions after all. And besides - they were supposed to spend the day together. She’d be stupid to give up the opportunity to spend time with her friend.
“Yeah, I want to play.”
“Okay,” Jeff says with a nod. “So. What are the rules?”
She giggles. “There aren’t any rules. You just do whatever you want to do.”
He sighs loudly. “Okay, looks like it’s once again up to me to make something not lame. Let’s see. We’ll play all night, let’s say until…” They both glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s a little before midnight; Annie’s usually just climbing into bed, but she can make an exception every now and then. “6 AM?” Jeff continues. “First person to take off their wedding ring before that time loses.”
Wait. “We have wedding rings?” Her eyebrows knit together. Usually when she pretends to be married to him, she doesn’t get so in-depth.
“We will as soon as we find two ring-shaped objects,” he says as if that should have been obvious. “Next rule. No fighting about real stuff. We’re not gonna use this as an excuse to work things out between us.”
Annie’s not sure what he’s referring to, but he seems pretty adamant about it. It’s fine with her - she doesn’t have anything she needs to say to him, and even if she did, she’d let it take a backseat to her rare opportunity to have fun with Jeff. “Okay.”
“Okay. Last rule.” Jeff holds up a finger. “No talking to our friends. Someone texts us, we ignore it. No one pops our bubble. That’s what marriage is, after all, right?”
“Sure,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“So do you agree to my terms?” She hums in agreement, staring out the window. They’re in the nice part of town, a few neighborhoods away from where she grew up. She knew someone in junior high who lived around here, in a house with a huge lawn and high windows offering glances into its three stories. That girl’s father was a doctor, Annie thinks, or maybe a lawyer or accountant or something. Annie always imagined herself living in a house like that one day, with a husband who loved her and kids to worry over and enough happiness to make her feel like it had all been worth it.
Jeff taps her knee. “Annie?”
“Hm?” She snaps out of her thought. “What?”
“The rules. Are they okay?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, they’re fine. I agree.”
Jeff sits up straighter. “Wait, no, actual last rule. I hold the right to add any additional rules at any time.”
Annie rubs her temple like she’s in pain. “Of course you do.”
“What do you want to do first, Mrs. Winger?” Jeff asks, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. “What’s something married people do?”
“Generally I think they do the same things single people do,” Annie says. “Unless you know a guy who can get us into the super secret club for married people.”
Jeff scoffs. “Hey, I’m just trying to get the most out of this. Sure, we can go to a bar or get dinner, or something, but we can do that any day we want. I want to do something that would feel different if we were married.”
Annie leans her head against her seat, trying to think of something to do. She loves when Jeff gets excited like this over something. It happens every so often, and while it’s usually to the study group’s benefit, it’s not something as endearing as this. And it’s certainly never over the prospect of spending time with her - just her, no one else. She’s pretended to be married hundreds of times, but hearing someone call you Mrs. Winger or Mrs. Efron as they take your Chinese food order or cut your hair isn’t the same as this. She’s actually excited for the next six hours - they have to make the most out of it.
“We can go see a movie?” she suggests. “We’ll stage a fight in line for popcorn and then have a really loud conversation halfway through the movie about whether or not we should call the babysitter. That’s something married people do, right?”
“I don’t know,” Jeff says thoughtfully. “And if we’re only playing for six hours, I don’t want to spend a third of that time in silence.” He turns onto a street that takes them deeper into the neighborhood, where the houses seem to keep growing in size all down the street. He pulls over, turning off the engine. “I couldn’t concentrate. Okay. Something married people do.”
Annie looks out the window while she lets him think. The house they parked in front of looks like the one she remembers, but this one is only two stories. There’s a stone path leading from the driveway to the three small steps up to the front door, with a white rocking chair placed at the end of the porch. She smiles. She didn’t think anyone actually had rocking chairs on their front porches outside of movies. It looks like a nice house, with a family that clearly cares about it. That makes her happy. A house like this deserves good owners.
“You really like these houses, huh?”
She registers his question, but doesn’t respond right away.
“They’re really pretty,” she says finally, dragging herself away from the view. “Don’t you think so?”
Jeff looks out his window. Annie can’t see the house across the street clearly, but it looks almost identical to the one on her right. In fact, most of the houses look alike, at least in the dark. There are a few details here and there - different color paint, columns, fences around the yards - to set them apart, but otherwise they all seem to be built identically. Annie likes that. She wouldn’t mind living in a community like this, where the houses look like twins and strangers.
“That one’s for sale,” Jeff notes. Then he takes out his phone. Annie would normally roll her eyes, but she’s actually surprised she’s seen him without it for as long as she has.
He puts it back in his pocket after a minute, and they lapse into silence. Sometimes when Annie’s in neighborhoods like this, she likes to look at the houses and imagine how many people live in them. Sometimes it’s obvious based on the number of cars, or in the summertime when toys and inflatable pools are scattered over the lawn, but she’s never correct. Well, maybe she is, but she has no way of knowing for sure. It’s a game she plays without hope of victory. It just makes her feel content, for some reason.
But she doesn’t feel the need to play it tonight. She’s already playing a game, one she doesn’t intend on quitting. “Should we try and figure out where to go?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jeff says, his hand moving to his pocket. He doesn’t grab his phone, but his fingers curl inward over the fabric. “In a minute.”
Then his phone buzzes, perfectly timed. He grabs it and looks at the screen, then up at her. “I know where we can go.”
He’s unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door before Annie can process what’s happening. The streetlights are bright enough that she can see him cross in front of the car, then walk around to her side. “Milady,” he says with a mock bow as he opens her door.
“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously, eyeing the hand he extends towards her.
He sighs, his shoulders dropping. “Come on, Annie, that’s not your line.”
“Jeff,” she warns.
“Okay, fine,” he says. “I know the realtor for the house across the street, and he owes me a favor, so I texted him and asked if he would give me the code to the lockbox so we could go inside.”
She freezes. He wants to take her inside her dream house? “But…what about the owners?” she asks. “Won’t they know?”
Jeff shrugs. “They’re renovating the basement to help the house sell, so they’ve been staying at a hotel. Annie, really, no one will know that we were there. Come on. We’re married, right? Let’s go home.”
She knows there are about a million things wrong with this, but the protests die in her throat. She hasn’t been in a house this beautiful (at least one without a private sex dungeon) in years, but she’s always daydreamed about it. And if the realtor said it was okay…
Annie reaches out for his hand. He helps her get out of the car, and they walk across the street together. Annie’s never seen a lockbox before, and Jeff doesn’t seem to have too much experience with them; he fumbles with the combination for a moment, and then it pops open, revealing a small brass key.
“Welcome home, my love,” he says in a terrible British accent as he unlocks the door. Annie rolls her eyes, but grins, as she moves past him to enter the house. Jeff grabs her wrist, pulling her back.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “It’s our wedding day. We have tradition to uphold.”
Before she can ask what he means, he slides his arm across her shoulders and bends down to grab her legs. “Jeff, don’t you dare,” she starts, but she’s in the air before she can properly deliver her threat. The last word turns into a scream as she instinctively wraps her arms around his neck.
“You’re so dramatic,” he says as he carries her inside. He takes two steps before he sets her back down.
“Yes, it’s one of my biggest flaws,” she says flatly. Jeff looks around, then finds a light switch a few feet away. It quickly becomes too bright; she has to squint for a moment while her eyes adjust. Once she can look around without wincing, she gasps. They’re standing in a long hallway, directly in front of a staircase that ascends towards shadows. The wall, decorated with picture frames, gives way into a room that, judging by its dark shapes, is probably the living area.
“Jeff,” Annie squeals as she walks down the hallway. The hardwood floors stretch in front of her, leading her to an open room containing the kitchen and two doors, one leading outside and one presumably to a bathroom. The cabinets are dark, but the whole space still feels open and inviting, so much so that Annie feels as if she’s seen it every day for years.
He follows her into the kitchen, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms as she throws herself onto one of the barstools at the large kitchen island. “I feel like I’m in a Food Network show kitchen,” she says, her voice low. “Oh my god, Jeff, look, they have two ovens.”
“Living the dream,” he says. Then he straightens. “Are you hungry?”
She’s surprised by the sudden question. “I could eat.”
“I’ll run out and get us something,” he says. “That’s what husbands do, right? Put food on the table?”
“You manly man, you,” she says affectionately. Jeff tells her he’ll be back soon, then turns and heads back down the hallway. Annie unzips her coat and piles it neatly on top of the island. And then she starts exploring.
By the time Jeff gets back, she’s memorized the layout of the house. “The basement’s looking pretty nice,” she tells him as he unpacks a plastic bag. “I think all the construction’s done. They’ve started painting it and everything, so I’m sure the furniture will be there soon.”
“The 7-11 down the street didn’t have much,” Jeff tells her. “But I got popcorn and some French Bread pizza. You know, to remind you of our honeymoon.”
Annie frowns, not getting it.
“I decided we went to Paris on our honeymoon,” Jeff clarifies. “Just go with it.”
She smiles at him, then ducks her head. She usually comes up with backstory for her relationship when she’s pretending to be married, but they’re usually spur-of-the-moment. Jeff’s actually thought their “relationship” over and made it real in a way that both terrifies and excites her. What Annie originally thought was just a stupid game might actually be kind of important to him.
She can hear him moving around as she preheats the oven for their frozen pizza. Then he brushes her back and his hands are loosely grabbing her wrist from behind. “I got something else, too,” he says. His hand disappears for a moment; then, when he touches her again, she feels something cold and prickly. Annie frowns, then looks down to see what’s going on.
Jeff put a wrapped Ring Pop in her hand. Her fingers close around it, and she wants to ask what this means, but all she can think about is how close he is. It wouldn’t take more than a second to turn around and reach up to him and -
“It was the only ring-shaped object I could find,” he explains, cutting off her thought. “I got one for me, too. And remember - whoever takes it off first loses.”
For the first time, she sees a large plastic ring on his finger, with a red piece of candy on top. It’s so weirdly adorable that she can’t help but turn around. Her fingers tighten around the package in her hand as she looks at him, biting her lip as she tries to decide. Yes, she thinks. Yes, this is what needs to happen. She rises on her tiptoes as he ducks his head, and they’re so painfully close when Jeff suddenly stops, their lips just inches apart.
“New rule,” he says softly, his breath tickling her skin. “No kissing.”
Annie pouts. “That’s a terrible rule.”
“No, it’s not,” Jeff says, though he doesn’t sound too sure. “This is supposed to be a fantasy. But in reality, if I was allowed to kiss you whenever I wanted, I would never be able to stop.”
Her heart stops. “You can kiss me anytime you want to.”
She’s not sure what compelled her to say that, but it’s true. She’s made it very clear to him in the past that she’d be more than happy if he finally admitted he had feelings for her; the problem was he never actually acted on it. The true unspoken agreement between them is that she’s ready whenever he is. For as many times as she’s tried to move on and forget about her stupid, inconvenient feelings for Jeff Winger, something always pulls them back together. So while she’s done forcing him along, she knows that she wouldn’t hesitate for a second if he was finally ready. Yes, he can kiss her whenever he wants to. Or he can take her hand or hold her tight or love her desperately and ridiculously. She has always, always been his. And sometimes she thinks he’s always been hers.
Jeff shakes his head. “Don’t feel like you owe me anything just because I bought you a candy ring.”
Then he’s laughing, and she’s slapping his chest, which just makes him laugh harder. Annie can’t help but join him. After all, a kitchen like this deserves happiness. It should be a place where people can laugh.
Their pizza takes a while to cook, so they microwave the popcorn while they wait. Jeff tries to start a popcorn war, but apparently Annie draws the line somewhere when it comes to what is and isn’t acceptable when squatting in someone else’s home, so he’s left disappointed.
They move to the living room after they eat. There’s a large fireplace, but Jeff studies it for a moment and tells Annie it looks like it hasn’t been used in years. But seeing it makes them both want to curl up on the couch anyway, so he pulls up a YouTube video of the Yule Log and props up his phone on the coffee table.
He pours them both glasses of cheap wine he bought from 7-11. Annie curls her fingers around the stem of her filched wine glass and holds it against her shoulder, her feet tucked underneath her. Jeff sits close to her, but given the circumstances of the night and the warmth spreading all over her, Annie can’t quite decide if it’s dangerous or not.
By their third glass of wine, they’ve started talking about school. Not their friends or the chaos that seems to follow them, but what they want to do after they graduate. Annie always knew Jeff was getting his law degree, but she’s surprised to hear that he’s been thinking about taking journalism classes, too.
“I mean, obviously it’d just be a side thing,” he explains. “I could take classes at night and still work at a law firm. But it was kind of fun when I worked on the paper. And now that it’s too late, I’m kind of realizing that I didn’t really let myself have fun these last four years.”
Annie frowns. “You’ve had fun,” she challenges. “We’ve played paintball, and you know you had a good time at Abed’s birthday party last year. Admit it. You like us.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Jeff says as he drains his glass. He grabs the wine from the table and gestures toward her glass. She holds it out, letting him refill it.
“Yes, you do,” she says. “Come on. You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t have a soft spot.”
He twists his mouth, idly drifting his wine glass in small circles. “What do you mean?”
She doesn’t know, really. She hadn’t intended on saying it like that, but it’s still kind of true. “I just. I think I know you better than you think I do.”
Jeff covers her hand with her own. “Annie,” he says, his voice low in his throat. “I think this is getting dangerously close to using tonight as an opportunity to work out issues between us.”
That wasn’t where she was going with that, but if he wants to drop it, she’ll drop it. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to.”
He looks satisfied, but he doesn’t take his hand away. His thumb starts tracing circles over her knuckle. She’s wouldn’t even be sure he knows he’s doing it if it wasn’t for the fact that his gaze hadn’t strayed from hers.
“Jeff,” she says softly. She doesn’t know how to follow it up, so she just lets his name linger on her lips, waiting for him to say something and decide how this plays out.
Finally, his eyes fall to her hand. “You haven’t been eating your Ring Pop,” he notices. And then he brings her hand to his mouth and slowly licks the candy on top of her finger. Annie can’t remember how to breathe for a minute.
“If we’re not allowed to kiss, you’re definitely not allowed to do that,” she says finally. Her belly is warm, maybe from that or the wine, maybe both. It’s nice, though distracting; it feels like a hook sinking into her insides and tugging her down, down, down into something she can’t quite name.
“Sorry,” he says, looking rather proud of himself. “Won’t happen again.”
It doesn’t. Annie doesn’t know whether or not she’s disappointed.
Sometime later, they move off the couch. She doesn’t know when, but it’s later enough that she’s lost track of how many glasses of wine she’s had. Jeff follows her idly, neither of them really knowing where they want to end up. They eventually find themselves in the dining room, across the entranceway from the living room, flat on their backs and staring up at the dining room table.
“Do you think Troy and Britta are happy?” he asks suddenly. Annie doesn’t know where it comes from, but she’s been wondering that herself over the last few months. She knows the answer, of course.
“Yeah, I do,” she says. “They get each other in this weird way that makes total sense now that I see it. You know?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m glad. I want them to be happy.”
This is, by far, the most unexpected sentiment he’s uttered all night. Annie looks at him, her eyes wide in surprise. After a moment, Jeff rolls his head over towards her. “What?” He drags out the syllables.
“Nothing,” she says, smiling. “It’s just that you’re not normally this nice.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks. “I’m always nice.” The words are barely even out of his mouth before he starts laughing. It’s full-bodied and rich, the kind that opens you up to everyone around you, and she can’t help but join in.
“You couldn’t even say that with a straight face,” she says, shoving his shoulder.
“I know, I know,” Jeff says, wiping away tears. “I am many things, Annie, but I’m not humble. Even when it’s for the sake of comedy.”
Their laughter settles down eventually, but she’s left thinking about her question. She never got an actual answer from him. “Why are you being so nice tonight?”
Jeff looks at her intently for a moment. Then something in his face shifts. “It’s a game, right? I’m just. I don’t know. Playing along as much as possible.”
Annie’s not totally sure what that means, but she thinks she knows what he’s getting at. Still.., “So. If you were married to someone…” She hesitates, tapping her thumb against her stomach. “This is how you’d treat them?”
Jeff looks at her again, then rolls his whole body over. He’s pointed directly towards her, and she feels herself curving into him in response. “Yes, Annie. If I was married to you, this is how I’d treat you.”
She can feel her cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Jeff scoffs and falls onto his back. Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. “It doesn’t have to be like ‘that’. Everything with us is about something else,” he says sternly. But he’s not angry. He sounds like he’s given it a great deal of thought. “So I’m not thinking about anything else, okay? I’m just saying something as a general statement. I’m not reading anything into what you say.”
She nods, focusing again on the underside of the table. He’s right. All their dancing around has left them with some untouchable topics, ones that she has to constantly avoid even brushing upon. But she’s tired of all their words being weighed down by double meanings. “I think you’d be a good husband.”
And he would. Maybe for her, maybe not. But he’s intelligent, and considerate when he wants to be, and he’d do anything for the people he loves. And, most importantly, he’d only marry someone if it was absolutely right. Whoever married Jeff Winger would know without a doubt that they were deeply and overwhelmingly loved.
One corner of his mouth twitches. “You’d be a good wife, Annie.”
Suddenly the candy on her finger feels heavy. She raises her hand, takes the candy in her mouth, and bites down, leaving just the plastic ring.
- - -
Her eyelids are heavy by the time the sun starts coming up. They’re still under the table when the rays start casting long shadows on the floor, just inches from Annie’s face. She watches them, her breath caught in her throat.
“Annie,” Jeff says quietly. It’s been a while since either of them has spoken, and his voice sounds froggy. “It’s almost six.”
She rolls over, surprised by that. She hasn’t been keeping track of time - in fact, her phone has been in the kitchen all night.
“Our marriage is almost over,” she says. “What’d you think?”
Jeff shrugs into the floor. “Guess it could have been worse,” he says. “But now I understand why you pretend sometimes.”
She still doesn’t know if she totally understands why she does it, or what it provides her, but at least he doesn’t think it’s a stupid, immature habit. “Thanks for marrying me,” she says, but really what she thinks she means is, “Thanks for taking me seriously.”
Half of his mouth curls upward. “It was my pleasure, Annie,” he says, with a long, slow blink. His hair has flattened over the course of their night, and now falls down an inch across his forehead. So this is Jeff Winger in the morning, something Annie never thought she’d see.
“I guess we should get up,” Annie says softly.
“Yeah, probably.” But neither of them move. They stare at each other, inches apart, still with distance between them but close enough that his features blur together. She’s never seen him this close before. They’ve been closer, of course, but her eyes were always closed. She doesn’t know how she can be closer to him with a few inches of space between them than she can when their entire bodies are touching.
He reaches over and takes her hand. The sun’s risen now, enough that the whole room is illuminated. She watches him scoot closer to her, and as the alarm on his phone starts blaring to announce the end of their game, he lowers his mouth to hers.