Chapter Text
Abed looked up from his bag of popcorn and surveyed the table. Something was different this morning. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. But it was substantial enough to cause an imbalance in the dynamic. On the far left, Britta and Jeff bantered back and forth over something insubstantial yet mildly aggravating: “My cats are precious angels who won’t be defined by your performative, lukewarm apathy.” “All twenty-seven of them?” “You’d understand if you had a heart.” Across from him, Shirley was halfway through showing Annie the most recent photos she’d taken of her kids. Annie smiled and nodded between halfhearted efforts at politely changing the topic.
Then there was Troy. On Abed’s right, he sat wearing his favorite dark red hoodie. Over the weekend they’d made a tier list of every article of clothing in their closets based on size, color, and usefulness in a zombie apocalypse. After hours of scrutiny, they’d determined that the hoodie had the ultimate combination of comfortable fabric and sturdy cords to choke out zombies should the necessity arise. They were four days deep into a tier list making obsession, which had begun when Annie put them in charge of organizing her pencil case. Clearly, she hadn’t learned anything from last year’s bottle episode.
Now, Troy was intent on ranking every single movie in the Kickpunchverse, including deleted scenes and bonus spinoffs, despite the fact that most of them were set in an alternate timeline in which The Kickpuncher was confronted by his main enemy too early and had to have wrist surgery. “Then, I think I’d say Kickpuncher Five: For Whom the Punch Kicks, then the third Christmas spinoff with all the eggnog, then maybe the deleted scene where–”
“Pierce is missing.”
Everyone looked up.
Annie was the first to react. “Um, he told me something came up. Apparently, the Church of the Laser Lotus had to call an emergency meeting to… reconstruct his aura. He’ll be out for a week.”
Britta stared at her. “So… they took him to their mysterious hive out of the blue with no explanation or means of return.”
“Mhm!”
“…And you’re all fine with this?”
Everyone muttered something vaguely approving and turned back to whoever they were talking to before.
Britta slammed her hands on the table. “NO! I won’t stand for this! An innocent man has been kidnapped by a cult! We have to do something.”
Jeff sucked air through his teeth. “Do we?”
“Dean, Dean, study group!”
Everybody groaned.
A glamorous silhouette strutted through the room’s glass doors, clad in an eye-searing red wig, blue eyeshadow, cowgirl boots, and pink-and-blue spandex bodysuit. Atop the wig sat a cowboy hat with enough rhinestones to blind a small child. Shirley discreetly averted her eyes as the Dean waved hello. “It’s great to see you all. Especially you, Jefferey.” He placed his left hand on Jeff’s bicep. The Dean’s lengthy nail extensions dug into his arm. “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’m dressed as drag queen and musical persona Chappell Roan, who just so happens to be portrayed by Grammy winning singer/songwriter Kayleigh Rose Amstutz!”
“No,” Jeff grumbled, “we’re not.”
The Dean chuckled fondly. “Oh, Jefferey, Jefferey. We banter, you and I. But no. It’s because tomorrow is Valendean’s day, and to raise money, Greendale is having our very own rose bouquet sale! Show up to the front office any time today or tomorrow, and for five dollars, you can give your Valendean, whoever they may be–” He cast a very pointed longing gaze at Jeff, who stared at the rest of the table like he was in a hostage situation. “–their very own bouquet.”
Britta rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Go on, guys. Participate in a holiday that was invented to feed corporate greed and objectify women’s bodies in one foul swoop.”
Jeff said, “Don’t you mean, fell swoop?”
“I said what I said, misogynist! Don’t mansplain English to me.”
The Dean frowned. “Well, I am clearly getting in the middle of something here, so I’m just gonna play myself out if it’s okay with you. Happy Valendean’s Eve!” He pressed play on the speaker in his right hand, and “Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl” blasted as he strutted away.
Abed shook his head. “It wasn’t Pierce.”
Jeff stared at him. “Abed, what are you talking about? What’s not Pierce?”
“Something’s different. Don’t you feel it too? Haven’t you noticed how we’ve been transported out of episodical sitcom format and into a sixteen-year-old’s mediocre fanfiction first-drafted in Comic Sans?”
“I knew it,” Shirley announced, clutching her purse. “I knew Dean would get to that boy eventually. Archive of Our Own be damned.”
“I think what Abed means is that Valentine’s Day is coming up, and there’s love in the air!” Annie said this in a little sing-songy voice, smiling to herself. “Who has a Valentine this year?”
Shirley beamed. “Oh, well, you know. André and I have been going steady for a few months now, so I hoped the two of us could get a little time away from the boys tomorrow evening. He’s taking me out to a fancy restaurant.”
A unanimous “Awwww!” was shared.
“Awww, Shirley, I’m so happy for you,” crooned Britta. “But my Valentine’s Day will be spent smashing the patriarchy! Who’s with me?” She pumped her fist in the air to no avail.
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. The only thing you’ll be smashing tomorrow is your third bottle of vodka.”
“Hey!”
“I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day at the Red Street bar. If any of you would like to join me, the invitation will be open.”
Troy shook his head. “No can do, man. Abed and I are doing a thirteen-hour romcom marathon. I can’t wait to see if the guy from Love Actually ever finishes his sentence.”
Annie cocked her head. “Troy, you’re not going out with anyone?”
He chuckled. “What, like I’d give up movie night with Abed for Valentine’s Day? Annie, a grown man like me has two responsibilities: finding out where PAC-Man goes when you put him all the way on the other side of the little box, and watching movies with his best friend. If I ever ditch Abed for something, call Robocop.”
Abed looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. Automatically, the two exchanged their signature handshake. Then it hit him. What was different about today. Why the group was in a fanfiction instead of an episodical sitcom. Troy grinned at him, and as the feeling settled over him in its entirety, Abed knew exactly what he had to do.
He had to do a Valentine’s Day special.