Title: 5 Cliches That Didn't Lead To A Kiss and 1 That Did (1/6)
Author: sinecure
Character/Pairing: Jeff/Annie
Rating: T
Genre: Romance, humor, slight drama maybe
Summary: The title says it all, really.
Spoilers: Late season 2, maybe?
Disclaimer: I don't own Community.
Author's Notes:I did one of these for Doctor Who a few years back, fell in love with Jeff/Annie and couldn't resist doing a less smutty version. I love cliche fics as much as anyone, so please don't get offended. I write cliched fics all the time. And smut. Let's see if I can write Community.

"Is he still there?" Jeff asked in a low voice.

Annie sighed and reached for the doorknob. "This is stupid, Jeff. Let's just- hey!" Jeff's hand slapped hers, making her lose her grip on the doorknob. She slapped his hand back and he lightly hit her shoulder... and then they were catfighting as she tried to get to the door and he tried to keep her from it. After a dozen slaps, she hit Jeff hard on his arm and then stomped as far away from him as she could. All three feet. "Ugh! Jeff, this is stupid-"

"You already said that."

"-and I have class in..." She checked her watch in the dim janitor's closet. The naked bulb-energy efficient, compact fluorescent-wasn't working for some reason, so all she had to go by was the blue LED light on her watch. She'd be late if she didn't leave. "Now."

Jeff had his ear pressed to the door, listening. "You try being the Dean's favorite plushie and then we'll talk." His chuckle sounded throughout the room. "See what I did there?"

She ignored him and talked louder, knowing that, with Jeff, talking over him usually resulted in him doing his little hand thingy, but it wouldn't work this time because she couldn't see it.

Ha.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, well, if I were, I wouldn't just run from him like a six-year-old caught stealing a cookie and afraid to face mommy."

"My mother was a saint!"

Annie lessened her glare a little since he couldn't see it anyway, even after he turned toward her. Well, she thought he had. His dark, shadowy shape wasn't much more than a tall blob. She dropped her arms to her sides in surprise. "What?"

"Spending a half and hour with Abed, talking about tv plots and tropes and romantic plot twists and other things I know nothing about? Not so priceless. It was pretty pricey actually. I stopped listening after ten minutes-I know, I can't believe I lasted that long either-but then I just started yelling out random movie quotes, which sent him meandering down some road that I prefer not to travel." She saw his frame shift in a shrug. "It kept him busy while I got to play- I mean text."

Her annoyance with Jeff grew again now that she didn't think he was working through some sort of mommy-issues. "That's actually kind of mean. Argh! Jeff, this is-" She cut herself off with a foot stomp, highly aware she was coming off as petulant, but unable to care when she was going to be marked as tardy. "The Dean is harmless. He just wants you-"

"Ya think?"

She raised her voice to talk over him. "To participate in the dunk tank at the fair. What's so bad about that? And, why'd you drag me into your little runaway episode anyway?"

He grabbed her biceps suddenly, startling her as he leaned down toward her. "Annie... he wants it to be a doodly-doo-duet with the Dean in the dunk-tank-a-rooney or something! I cannot get mostly naked with that man and sit close enough for him to paw me all night. Have you met the Dean? He has touchy-feely hands when it comes to me."

Nearly-naked Jeff.

Wet, nearly-naked Jeff.

Naked Jeff.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no! This was completely the wrong place and time to be thinking of Jeff, nakedness, and pawing.

Her usual fallbacks for when these situations arose weren't available to her just now; she couldn't talk to Shirley or any other member of the group as a distraction, she couldn't study, and she couldn't run away. But she wanted to, just like Jeff. Just like a six-year-old kid. Run until his breath wasn't ghosting across her lips. Until his hands weren't gripping her tight. Until the tiny, cramped space wasn't giving her naughty ideas about what they could be doing, but which she wasn't ready to do again yet.

Maybe.

He shifted a little. "Annie?"

Realizing she'd gone quiet for a little too long, she knocked his arms from her, breathing a lot easier once she took a step back. "Coward."

"Uh, yeah, Annie. He has Speedos. Matching Greendale flag Speedos! And, yes, the anus is right where you'd expect it to be. What next, mandatory Greendale sleepovers? Where does it stop, Annie? Where... does it stop? He's this close-you can't see it but I'm holding my thumb and finger close together-to stalking me."

Annie gasped. "Jeff! That's horrible."

"I know," he agreed, sounding satisfied. Still too close to her. "He's-"

"You're a horrible person," she stressed, shoving past him to the door.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Wait, what?"

"The Dean isn't a psycho. He just... has a crush on you. And, he seems to be working through some stuff. Maybe he's just, I don't know, confused or something, seeing things that aren't there."

"What?" Jeff repeated in a louder voice shot through with a scoff.

Pushing her issues, and the Dean's, to the backburner, she grabbed for the doorknob again. "I'm late for class."

Jeff moved in front of her and braced his hip against the door. Her hand grabbed him instead of the knob and-

Oh, god.

Panic settled in her and a teeny, tiny thrill of- no. No thrills.

Jerking her hand back-not lingering at all-from certain parts of him, she felt her face flame.

Thank god for the dark, because she didn't think she could face him just now. Was it just her? Was he... had he? Did he, too? Mental rambling. Oh, god.

Silence fell, awkward and punctuated only by their breathing.

He shifted again after an interminable amount of time in which she was able to recite the million different reasons they couldn't get involved. And the million and one reasons she wanted to.

Closing her eyes for a second, she was startled to feel his hand settle on her neck. It brushed her hair from her shoulder.

A fluke! Nothing more. Right? He didn't know what he was touching, just like she hadn't known she was grabbing... him.

His other hand settled on the other side of her face, cupping her cheek. A shiver went down her spine and a gymnast began to tumble in her stomach. "Jeff," she whispered, though all that came out was a heavy breath. She wanted to warn him. To stop him.

They couldn't.

His breath was closer. All of him was closer.

They really shouldn't.

Had he breathed her name or was it just her imagination?

They were going to. Again.

Bright, fluorescent light flooded the cramped supply closet as the door flew open.

"Jeffrey! There you are- oh, and Annie. I didn't see you there." The Dean stood framed flamboyantly in the doorway, one hand on his hip, eyes only for Jeff. "Oh, my. What have we been up to? Janitor's closets aren't 'make out' rooms, okay? I'm very disappointed in you two." He waved his finger between them.

Annie blinked back the light, jerking out of Jeff's arms. He'd been just as close as she'd thought. Students filed past, casting curious looks and knowing smirks their way. Her eyes resisted the urge to slide to Jeff's again. No good would come of it.

The Dean didn't notice. "A broom closet, Jeffrey? Now, is that any way to treat a young-and might I add, very young-lady?"

Annie ducked her head and hurried past the Dean. "I'm late for class."

Her heartbeat was thumping so loudly in her chest just from the closeness of Jeff. All the hard work she'd put into ignoring him and trying not to be attracted to him, was gone in a split second of nearness. The smell of him. The feel of his hands. His breath on her face.

Casting a longing glance toward her classroom, she detoured into a bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Her control might be shot, but she was Annie Edison. It'd be back in no time.