AN: I do not own Community or the characters. They belong to Dan Harmon (genius)

Chapter 1: Because You Are

Denial: the act of contradiction, negation.

Secret: keeping private, concealed.

Separately, these words are just objects found in a dictionary. Denial, simply a state of mind. Secret, or the act of keeping one, is just something a human being is inclined to do from time-to-time.

Together, these words form a relationship so deliciously devious, that even Miss goody-two-shoes, Annie Edison, has to lick her lips and bask in the beauty of it.

The kiss at the end of their first school year lingered on her lips. The taste of his tongue, pure and raw, still clings to hers. Her cheeks still flush at the wondrous spontaneity of it all.

Troy and Abed make the rash decision to pull the plug on their magical fort; 'We've gone mainstream.' 'Initiate Protocol Omega.' With a sift tug, the white flag is flown, the surrender is made. The sheets come floating down, the magic is gone. The looting has begun, people cling to what they can fit in their arms, and they scatter trying to find a way out before they become prisoners to the pillow guards and the sheet police. A herd of pajama wearing convicts flee the scene, board games are left tousled and pieces fold themselves in the sheets left behind. The magic is gone.

But for Jeff and Annie, the tiny car bomb insistent earlier this morning is revisited. Their bodies are a breath away from each other. So close, but so agonizingly far away. 'I only did it because I love you.' 'You buried me like a shameful secret.' 'When you love someone, you take them as they are.' No truer words had ever been spoken. Jeff and Annie can dance around each other for years, denying, keeping secret; burying their feelings as far down as they will go. But how much time would they waste? In essence, would they ever know true happiness with out one another?

The answer lays in a small word. Simply, no. No two people are better suited for one another than Jeff Winger and Annie Edison. Confident and cocky meets neurotic sweet. An odd combination, like Oreos and peanut butter, but a decadent treat none-the-less.

The collapsed fort brings a mayhem that no one expected. The tumbling towers make it difficult to find a way out; Jeff and Annie contemplate their predicament, lips close, hands closer, Britta's earlier scowl. Should they, shouldn't they? They should, but no here. Too many eyes, too many opinions. Annie didn't think Jeff was gross, and Jeff hadn't gotten over her legal age. But the people surrounding them will most certainly have an opinion as to how, when and where their relationship should go. According to a film and media standpoint, they should be the endgame, the couple that proceeds just as the movie, or TV series ends. From a horny old man's perspective, they should have banged already and gone on to the next lay. From a feministic view, Jeff should find someone closer in age, a more appropriate match and that woman should be treated equally. From an overly religious view, not until they're married and probably when Annie's at least twenty-one. Not too sure where Troy would stand in all this, maybe he'd be too busy with his cardboard submarine blueprints to really invest his time in analyzing their relationship. Thank goodness for that.

Jeff leans further into Annie, his breath is hot against her cheek. "Want to get out of here?" Her eyes flutter closed as the heat whispers against her, softly tickling the strands of hair that have fallen forward. She brushes them behind her ear and her doe eyes creep up to look at him,

"Yes, please."

With the cost clear, they swiftly make their way out of the rubble and Jeff puts his hand on the small of her back as he opens the door leading out of the dorm. The air's a bit chilly tonight and although she's wearing one of her many rainbow colored cardigans, he puts an arm around her and pulls her close. Her perfume sweeps up under his nose and he inhales the spicy, mysterious, grownup flavor and wonders what's stopping him from falling in love with Annie? 'Dude, because, you already are.' He kisses the side of her head and she looks up at him. They continue to walk.

The gravel of the parking lot crunches beneath their feet. Their heading to his car and no one makes a move to halt the insinuation that she's going home with him. Annie had spent the entire summer wondering what it would be like to lip lock with Jeff once again. Would he still taste like minty toothpaste? Would he still smell of Blade Kodiak body wash? Would his hands still feel warm? Would his fingers still be quite nimble?

She stops abruptly as he opens the car door for her. She folds her skirt against her thighs and slides in. On the way back to his apartment, she runs her fingers over the hand laying limply against the gear shift. His skin is soft but his hands are still masculine, all broad knuckles and short nails. She even daringly scraps her nails against his scalp. The hairs ruffle, but go back to their original places; knowing their master has taken extra care and precision to place them masterfully as to look messy, but in an orderly fashion. Annie has even noticed that she like the light shadow of scruff circling his jaw line. Still clean, but dangerously disheveled at the same time.

The elevator races to the third floor and by the time the doors ring open, Annie's leg is wrapped around Jeff's waist and her tongue is forcefully trying to gain entrance to his mouth. An elderly couple, assumingly waiting for the elevator; opt to take a different route. Jeff has to swing his arm out and away from Annie's back to keep the door from banging shut. She pulls him into the hallway and he blindly guides her to a second hallway. If she had come here under different circumstances, she would have inspected ever nook and cranny of the high end building. Marble flooring and rich, cream colored walls. White crown molding, the large flower arrangements in the center of each floor (the first thing you see exiting from the elevator). The expensive art hanging on the walls. Gold, shinny door handles. But right now, all she sees is ecstasy as Jeff fumbles to fit his key into the stubborn lock and turn it.

A word hasn't been whispered between them but, the buttons of Annie's yellow sweater have become undone and Jeff pulls her into his apartment and Annie realizes she gets to be different with Jeff. Right here, right now, she gets to be her sexually charged self, without feeling like a silly girl with a devilish love for sex. Jeff is the only man who's been able to feed that side of her.

There's no sarcastic, cocky comment "that no girl can resist the Wing man's charm." Or, "I've been able to sweet talk many girls out of their panties." Instead, he intends to worship Annie's curves until they're both spent and satisfied.

Annie's devilish side has other plans. She pulls away from what seems like the hundredth kiss that night and pushes him onto the couch; immediately straddling his legs. Once recovered from the shock, Jeff's hands hike Annie's skirt further up her legs, causing it to gather around her hips. "Your stocking are killing me Annie."

"Then take them off silly." She thrusts her tongue into his mouth, gliding perfectly against his. He still tastes like minty toothpaste and still smells of Blade, Kodiak soap. That chocolaty, husky scent goes right through her and she rocks her hips against the rough material of his jeans. This particular action does nothing to sooth the ache between her legs; quite the opposite effect. In fact, she rocks harder this time, keeping her hands running through his hair and their tongues tangle together. He finds the flimsy seam of her stocking and in his haste; he rips them and throws her down onto the cushions of the couch. He flicks her shoes off and pulls the remaining material, or what's left of it, off her legs. Her skirt is next and so is his shirt. Bare-chested, he lifts Annie over one shoulder and she gives into the urge to smack his behind as he bounds down the hall to his room. His excessively huge bed and Egyptian cotton sheets are far more erotic than the scratchy material of the worn out couch.

She bounces onto the mattress and she rips off her sweater and he takes a moment to admire her lacey pushup bra and matching briefs; which he will no doubt be removing from her body, painfully slow. Annie reaches up to undo Jeff's belt buckle and when his jeans fall below his knees she scoots towards the head board and crooks her finger at him, licking her lips seductively. "Who knew Annie Edison was a closet seductress."

"Only for you Jeff. Only you know how to make me feel this good." His heart rate just kicked up a few notches and he crawls the length of her body, tender fingers brush bare skin wherever he can reach it. The one place that begs for his touch is the one place he purposely forgoes. She whimpers and he grins. Her body will beg for him.

"Jeff." Her innocence is back, but only as a technique of coercion. She bats those long black eyelashes but her blue eyes have become dark and hungry. They rake over his body, long, lean but surprisingly muscular. The pen debate comes back and she remembers them tearing off clothes to prove a point. Now, she gets to memorize every freckle and every imperfection that makes him unique.

She moans when his teeth sink into the tender flesh of her neck. Nails dig into his shoulders as she arches her entire body against him. Then her legs wrap around his waist, pushing his hip against her pelvis. Heat radiates from between her legs and he groans painfully and erotically at the agonizing pleasure. 'Annie will be the death of me.' His finger are feather light against the tops of her breast, down her ribs, over the curve of her shapely hips and further down. The crotch of her panties is soaked and he rips them over her legs and rubs circles around her clit. A primal growl rumbles deep in her throat and Jeff's lips close over hers, tongues fighting for dominance and eventually just tangle together in perfect rhythm. She bucks her hips against his talented fingers. The tips still running tights circles around ever nerve ending she never knew she had. Even when she laid awake at night, trying to find relief with her own hands, she never experienced the rush of heat flushing her body from head to toe. Never experienced the need to thrust so roughly against another person. Maybe it was the odd thought that her parents slept down the hall that made her gun-shy about investigating her own sexual need. Maybe she was just waiting for the right man to show her that her love for sex was natural and ok. "Jeff!" This time, her voice is landed with sexuality, thick with lust. Her breath sends blood and heat rushing to his groin and the realization that he's still in his boxers. But no worries, her fingers have become bold and have searched his hips for the pesky waistband. Together they push his boxers out of the way. Their mouths refuse to part with one another's and he awkwardly rummages around his nightstand. Trying to peek one eye open to see if he's even close to the drawer where he handily keeps a box of condoms. He pulls away slightly with a curse. "Shit." And he navigates his hand in the right direction and without so much as a heart beat between his lips leaving hers, she nips a trail from his earlobe to his collarbone, not the least bit turned off the least by the unsexy act of retrieving protection from a nightstand.

He returns his attention to Annie and allows her the extra few minutes of biting and sucking at his neck. He runs a skillful hand through her hair and pulls her lips to meet his once again. His knee pushes her legs apart and she wraps them firmly around his waist, but one foot ends up running along his calf as he thrusts into her in one smooth tilt of his hips. Her muscles instantly clamp down around him and they both growl animalisticly at the erotic dance between them. He starts off gently, not too rough. He takes his time devouring her body with his tongue, his teeth…his fingers. Their bodies greedily thrust firmly against one another's. Moans and heavy breathing fill the air around them. The smell of sex, spicy perfume and chocolate body wash cover them in a thick blanket of rapture. Although substantially smaller than Jeff, their bodies mold perfectly together.

Those gentle thrust become increasingly rougher. The wooden backboard raps against the wall in perfect rhythm. Annie's toes begin to curl, her foots rubs against his calf and her hips rise to meet his skillful thrusts. The end is near, their blood boils and a sheen of sweat dusts their bodies. 'So close, Jeff.' Annie's head bows against his shoulder and when her toes are fully curled her hips are wildly bucking beneath him and her orgasm shoots through her, her head is thrown back against the pillows; her hair fans out around her. "Beautiful." He thinks out loud. 'Only for you, Jeff.' He remembers. The male pride in him, the one that reminds him she's only been this perfectly and sexually charged for him. No man before him has made her this wild, this passionate. Ok, so maybe he's not too thrilled with the fact that she probably has had one or two sexual partners before him. But, the nagging notion that they probably left her unsatisfied puffs out his chest and he continues to elicit a second orgasm from her before joining in the on blissfulness. The rhythmic thrusting and the firm hold her muscles have on him catapult him into orgasm. He rests his head against her shoulder, gentle fingers run through his cropped hair and his hips rock roughly. Whimpers and moans escape both of them and fill the air with a distinct proof of their sexcapades. Once his thrusts become slow and aftershocks rack their…nether regions, He rolls off her; surely he's crushed the life right out of her. But her heavy breathing and fluttering eyes contradict him.

In all his naked glory he shuffles into the bathroom, "I'll be right back." The light flickers on and then goes dark. He comes back with a t-shirt and climbs back into bed. "Arms up." She unclasps her bra and he groans at the sight of her naked breast. But she puts her arms up and he dresses her in his t-shirt that smells of pure Jeff Winger. With his back against the mattress and the sheet hung low on his hips, he opens his arms for Annie who giddily snuggles into his side. Jeff brushes his lips against her crown and runs fingers through her hair. That's how they wake up a few hours later, of course a lot more awake and a lot hornier than their previously sedated selves. Round two…