an. hey this is my brittaabed fic because THERE ARE NO BRITTA ABED FICS? what is wrong with you universe? anywhoo, i hope y'all enjoy!

warning: swearing and mentioning of mature?themes. idk.

and thanks to my beautiful beta, pixiesticks-cc, for betaaing and coming up with the title (because i'm terrible at titles) :D

in mixology certification, when jeff, britta and abed are left in the backseat of jeff's car, there's a rather interesting turn of events...

chapter 1

It's dark, cramped, and Britta is horny.

She's drunk, of course, and being drunk always makes her horny. She should probably stop drinking- "Ha!" she laughs aloud, causing Jeff's unconscious figure to jolt in surprise.

"Errblubleh," he groans, and then giggles in a very un-Jeff-like manner. "I can't speak language."

Perfect, Britta thinks.

Because Britta has been sleeping with Jeff for a while now. He knows the deal. She knows the deal. They both know the deal. She wants sex, she calls him. He wants sex, he calls her. And there's nothing even a bit awkward about it. Ever. It's a bit weird, actually; the fact that there's nothing weird about it. For the few minutes in which she had been convinced that she was in love with Jeff Winger, she never imagined that it would be so... indifferent. There is a thrill to it, though. Having sex behind the Study Group's back is almost comical. She likes being subtle. She's very rarely subtle, and when she's sneaking around with Jeff, she feels like a spy... a sexy spy...

She laughs out loud again, and then covers her mouth with her hand. She can't be a spy with Abed right here! He's right here! She turns around and he's wide awake, staring at her. She should stop laughing out loud if she wants to be a spy. Spies don't laugh out loud! … Do spies laugh at all?

She turns to Jeff, as if he has the answer, but he doesn't. Then she remembers that she's horny and she wants to stick her mouth on his. So she rolls onto him and puts one leg over his lap, and she's about to put her arms around his neck when she accidentally elbows Abed in the face in the process.

Sexy spy! She's terrible at being a spy!

She rolls off of Jeff and toward Abed, leaving Jeff with his mouth open and ready. He realizes she's not there anymore, so he turns and presses his face up against the window.

Britta sighs in frustration and looks at Abed angrily. She wants to rub up against someone and she can't, because he's here and she's a spy. He stares at her blankly.

Wait... he's a he! Her mouth curves into a smile, and Abed notices. His blank stare is altered by a raised eyebrow, and somehow that does it for Britta.

Before her brain can even process what she's actually doing, she's put her hand on his leg (dangerously close to his crotch) and squeezes.

Wow, he's really skinny! His legs are so skinny! She pushes herself up against the side of him and runs her hand up and down his leg, a little bit harshly, so that the denim of his jeans burns her palm a bit, but he doesn't seem to mind. He hasn't moved at all-

She looks up at his face to see his eyes are wide and staring at her in surprise. She giggles a little and runs her hand further up his leg... higher than it had been before. Abed visibly gulps. Britta puts her other hand on his other leg, and starts massaging, further and further up... wow, he has really long legs! But she reaches somewhere- she reaches somewhere when he finally shifts away from her, his mouth open like he's about to say something...

And now Britta is so strangely pleased to have been able to pull him out of his 24/7 robotic stupor, she's excited to the point of being completely overwhelmed with the idea of making him more real...


She ignores his attempt at speech and clambers on top of him. She feels a little dizzy, but her blood seems to be on fire as she straddles his waist and kisses him.

Well, rather, sticks her tongue down his throat. She likes to think that she's being eloquent about it, or at least being the sexy spy she usually is, but she's drunk, it's dark and she's horny, so she puts one hand down his back in an attempt to grab his ass as she deepens the kiss and pushes herself up against him... He's so skinny!

He's not reacting, much; his eyes are wider than ever, so that's a little progress. Britta keeps one eye on him – which is hard because his mouth is sweet like caramel and her eyes want to flutter shut... and that's ridiculously ridiculous – as she sneakily (like a spy) pushes up the fabric of his shirt and slides her hand up his back. Somehow, that does it. His eyes close and he kisses her back. It's surreal – caramel and chocolate, the only thing better than just caramel. It's not frantic though and somehow she finds herself relaxing a bit. She's still horny, but not as urgent about it as before. It's more of a... I want to have your babies kind of horny, which is strange because she doesn't want kids, but either way she hums gently as she reaches for the zipper on his pants-


His hands are on her shoulders and he's pushed her gently away from him, his head cocked to the side. The familiar gesture seems to kick Britta in the stomach and pull her back to reality; they're in the back of Jeff's car, it's Troy's birthday night, Troy is taking Annie back to her apartment and Britta just made out with Abed. Her head is spinning and she's leaning back her head on the back of the driver's seat, "Oh god," she says, perhaps too loudly – her vision is clouded, but she can still somehow make out Abed's eyes staring at her with concern. "I'm going to be sick!"

Now, anyone else might have taken this as an insult, but not Abed. He opens the door and swings Britta off of him and onto the pavement. The cold night's air whips at her face and she stumbles about two steps away from the car before throwing her guts up onto the sidewalk.

When she finishes, Britta realizes Abed's beside her- he had been holding her hair back, and now he's supporting her with a hand on her side. She's about to mumble 'thank you', but then remembers she was on top of him, and her eyes flicker sideways then down to his pants. She almost throws up again when she sees that his zipper has been pulled down ever so slightly and her head is spinning again and oh god-

"Gross," Abed remarks calmly once she's done throwing up again, and it's all she can do to not fall into him.

She probably could have gotten away with that before, but oh-ho-ho, she is going to try not touching him for a while, and-

"Thanks," she mumbles finally, pushing his hand away from the back of her head and her waist.

Oh god, this is not good.

"Britta? Abed? Is everything okay?" Britta looks up fast to see Troy coming down the steps to what she's guessing is Annie's specific apartment building – what planet are they on again? – over towards them and the car, looking considerably more happy than he had when he left... but also disgusted at the puddle of Britta's vomit on the ground.

"Gross!" he says, sidestepping it and opening the car door. He looks back at Britta. "You look like death," is the bland observation he makes. "Are you OK?" Britta manages a small nod in response, and Troy nods sympathetically. "Well, I hope Annie doesn't step in it in the morning. Don't puke in Jeff's car, he'll kill us all."

Britta crawls in without another look at Abed, and slides as close to Jeff as she can. Abed follows suit, but just closes the door behind him and looks out the window. They're barely touching anymore, and it makes Britta feel a lot safer, and a lot moreinsane.

There are a few tense moments of silence and Troy hasn't started the car yet. Britta just wants to go home … or something.

"Listen... I'm sorry I exploded on you guys."

Abed nods to her left and Jeff grunts to her right.

Another moment of silence and Britta's heart is beating hard, because she suddenly realizes that making out with Abed wasn't a solution at all. He's still in the Study Group and the problem wasn't that she was sleeping with Jeff it was that she was sleeping with a member of the Study Group and Abed's going to work it all out anyways and she's going to have her spy-dom revoked and everything is terrible and-

Troy starts the car.

Abed doesn't say a word. And neither does Jeff.

What's going on?

She knows that if she had made out with Jeff, Abed totally would have told. But, now that she thinks about it, Jeff didn't make any comment at all, or seem to mind at-

"I'm not King of the Unicorns... leave me alone..."


He's asleep.

Britta cringes and sinks into her sleeping friend, further away from Abed, who seems to have taken to looking out of the window, still looking strangely flushed... and definitely confused. Britta closes her eyes.



"Haha! That's pretty funny," is what Jeff had later said about the matter, which was neither helpful nor instructive, nor warranted for. At all.

So after locking him out of his own bathroom and using his towel ("No! Dammit, Britta, it smells like woman now!"), Britta had left his apartment, grabbed her car keys and made her way toward Greendale Community College.

It's exactly twenty minutes before the first class of the day when Britta knocks on the door to Abed's dorm room, sweaty palms, mixed explanations and apologies muddled together inside her head. The fact that she can barely remember the incident doesn't help, and all she can remember is the taste of caramel, a need to make babies, and throwing up on the sidewalk in front of Annie's apartment building. Which doesn't make her feel better in the slightest.

Her head doesn't ache as much as it had at six in the morning (which was when the sun woke her up, because stupid Jeff always forgot to close the stupid drapes), and it's a small comfort. But when Abed opens the door, quietly beat-boxing, bag slung over his shoulder and ready to go to class, Britta seems to lose the power of speech.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Ah-bedddd!" she exclaims with a smile that fades into a grimace.

Abed nods, opens his mouth, closes it...

"You stuck your tongue down my throat and tried to grab my ass." Abed states robotically, which causes Britta to make a face. He shrugs. "I'm guessing that's why you're here?"

"Uh..." Britta shifts uncomfortably, Can we talk about this inside, quickly?"

"Sure," Abed nods, moving aside for her to enter.

Britta moves past him, not daring to look him in the eye. "I do want you to know, though, that it's perfectly understandable," Abed says.

Britta thinks about sitting on the sofa, but decides against it. She stands in the middle of the room and turns to Abed, eyebrow raised. Please be cocky and actually a terrible person. It will be so much easier to walk away if you are. "What is?"

Abed points at her, then at him. "You making out with me." He shrugs again. "People do it all the time."

The blonde opens her mouth, closes it and frowns.

"Wait, what?"

Abed shrugs. "When people are lonely, or drunk, or having an existential crisis, they make out with me, if I'm there. I have a very likable disposition, and my blank expression and emotional disconnectedness comforts them into thinking that I won't commit to it at all; so they have someone to non-verbally comfort them with no strings attached," Abed explains matter-of-factly, Britta's jaw dropping lower and lower as she listens.

"What?" she repeats again, and then shakes her head. "Abed, that's terrible!"

He cocks his head to one side. "You did it."

"Abed, that doesn't make it any less terrible! I was still using you, for my own selfish needs! And-" she shakes her head again – this still wasn't computing. "What? Who makes out with you?"

"I don't mind it," he says, ignoring the question.

Britta sighs loudly and stares at him. Men!

"No," she says, finally, hands on hips. "I don't imagine you would."

The two of them stand in the center of Abed's dorm room in silence. Britta feels slightly better, but that's not much better. Oh god, if anyone else in the Study Group found out, she would probably have to move to Europe... the I-love-Jeff fiasco was bad enough, and somehow, this felt just as bad as the time she drunk-dialed the ex-lawyer. OK, no, worse.

Wow! Alcohol and her did not go well together at all!

Abed looked equally uncomfortable. He was playing with his bag strap and his eyes were darting around the room. Aw, man, poor Abed! He doesn't know how to and simply can't react to a situation like this! I am officially the actual worst, Britta thinks dully. She sighs loudly and looks at Abed with all the sympathy and guilt she feels.

"Ugh, Abed. I'm so so so sorry. The thing is, I get really... turned on when I'm drunk, which is definitely as embarrassing as it sounds, and if I could undo it, I totally would, because I feel like I've permanently damaged our friendship, and you were like, my first friend here, Abed! And I just seem to ruin everything and now I've ruined this and everything is terrible including me. I'm the worst."

Now she falls onto the sofa, arms folded, pouting so severely that she hates herself even more.

"I'm a terrible human being and now I've destroyed the Group's mojo for good, in an attempt to not destroy it at all!"

A few seconds pass before Abed awkwardly sits down next to her. He puts his hand on her knee, and she turns to see he's attempting a smile – and it's really weird.

"Well, Jeff was asleep, right? Troy was taking Annie home and everyone was drunk. It was late. If we make up now, we can save the drama later, and the Study Group's mojo will be untouched. If we just pretend it never happened, that is."

Britta swallows, because that's a terrible idea and it's destroying her brain.

"Abed, I can't be like another one of these horrible girls that just used you, I respect you too much for that!"

"Who said it was only girls?"

Britta's eyes widen. Abed stares at her blankly.

"Oh... kay. My point is, I can't do that to you, Abed."

"So you want to tell everyone?"

"... No."

"Then what do you want?"

And Britta sees it again.

She's not sure exactly when she became obsessed with 'spotting an emotion', but she does know that the idea of it makes her sick to her stomach. She knows Abed feels, she always has. She actually may have even been the first person in the group to know that. But there's something about seeing the emotion right away, without having to get through any barriers that makes her so... intrigued?

Right now, Abed looks annoyed.

Ever so slightly. It's a shadow of annoyance. 'Then what do you want?' He just wants to make her happy and get this over and done with.

"I don't know yet," Britta cringes.

Abed's subtle annoyance is still not lost on her, so she struggles to find a proper answer. "We could... not bring it up, for now and then think on our feet if someone mentions it."

And by someone, she means Jeff, but she can't really believe he's that much of a threat.

"So basically, white lies," Abed sums it up.

Britta squints. That sounds much too blunt.

"Uh... some...thing like that, I guess. Yeah," she caves.

Abed blinks, taking it in and then shrugs. "Fine," he says, offering his hand.

Britta stares at it, and he tuts impatiently. "This is where we shake. That's what they do in movies and tv shows when two people have come to an important decision or mediocre plan."

"Oh," Britta says, feeling stupid, but she doesn't take his hand and Abed's lets it fall to his side. "Listen, um... I don't actually remember much … at all – because I was wasted." She's whispering now, though she's not completely sure why. "You'd tell me if I did anything too embarrassing, right?"

Abed is quiet. He looks down, and then back up at her.

"Sure," he smiles, and then looks serious. "You stuck your tongue down my throat and grabbed my ass."

Britta's eyes widen. "You said 'tried to' before!"

"I'm coming clean," he clarifies. "I didn't want you to feel too embarrassed."

"But you're telling me the whole truth now, right?" she asks tentatively.

Abed answers that with a, "Oh, and you also almost threw up on me after" and Britta's attention is now elsewhere.

"Oh my god, I almost did, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Abed nods.

She makes a face.

"OK, OK, let's shake on it."

And they do.


Britta and Abed are five minutes late, but Duncan hasn't arrived yet, and if they're lucky, he won't arrive at all. She takes her seat resignedly beside a grinning Jeff, wondering if she can punch him in the face yet.

"How did your chat with your rowboat go?" he grins.

"How do you know about rowb- he's not a robot!" She snaps, slapping him on the arm.

"Oh, you're right, a robot wouldn't know how to kiss back-"

"Will you be quiet?" Britta hisses. "And the talk went fine. His feelings aren't hurt, the only one of us who's mortified is me, and we're not going to mention it. So I'd appreciate it if you would stop talking about it in a full classroom!"

"He's not mortified?" Jeff questions. Then he shrugs. "No, I don't see why he would be."

"I said, stop," Britta repeats, squeezing his arm – it's supposed to be threatening, but he still seems amused. "It's not that big a deal." She manages a sideways glance at Abed, sitting a few rows in front, chatting contentedly with Troy. "It was only a kiss."

Jeff snorts loudly. Britta looks back at him, a frown on her face.

"OK, fine, I also may have grabbed his ass," she mutters.

Jeff laughs out loud, as if he can't contain it. Once again, dread fills the pit of Britta's stomach. Oh no...

"Ohohoho," he laughs. "No, you did a little more than kiss him and grab his ass."

Britta stares it him, eyes wide and stomach churning uncomfortably. "You were awake?"

"Of course I was awake, dummy." He leans forward to whisper. "And you were moaning."

Britta hits the table. She's pretty sure her brain is going to explode. "WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS NOW?"

Some students turn around to stare, but she just lifts up her Anthro text book and hides behind it, pulling Jeff down with her. He shrugs. "Sorry, I thought you knew," he whispers. Well, at least he's whispering, and at least he's sorry.

Britta glares at him for a couple of moments. He has one eyebrow raised, as if to say, 'can we sit up yet?' But Britta has to know...

"How bad?" She winces.

Jeff sighs. "It was kind of gross. And it looked like you were attempting to give his leg a hand-job," he muses. "And then it looked like you were about to give him an actual hand-job."

"WHAT?" Britta almost shrieks – but, manages to keep some control of her voice. So she sounds like a quiet, dying seal.

Jeff nods. "Or worse."

"What's worse than a hand-job?!"

Jeff raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, fuck," Britta says, sitting up and putting the text book down. "Fuckity, fuck, fuck."

"You would have," Jeff sing-songs as he leans back in his chair.

Britta picks the text book back up and whacks him with it.

And that's when the two of them notice. There is quite a few pair of eyes on them, but there are five people in particular that they are interested in. Britta looks from person to person.

Troy's mouth is wide open. Annie's eyebrows are raised. Shirley's eyes are wide and she's muttering things under her breath that Britta's glad she can't hear. Pierce is staring too, although, she's certain he's clueless and is just looking to fit in with the group. Britta finally looks back at Abed, who's shaking his head at her subtly, eyes wide.

For spies trying to be inconspicuous, they're not doing that great of a job at it at all.

Britta blinks, and, deciding this day could not get any worse (because, technically, making out with Abed had been today) she turns to Jeff. "Did you say he kissed back?"

an. spread the word! this ship is a-hapnen.

i hope you enjoyed your read :) chapter 2 should be up soon :)