summary: roommate au. first part. in which annie edison meets potential roommate abed nadir, and is mothered by britta perry.
notes: ARGH
the post that inspired the fic
Annie was done. Done. She was done with her awful apartment, the creaky floorboards, peeling paint, skeevy patrons. The night before she found a gang of rats eating through her pantry, and she was pretty sure her landlord used to belong to a prison gang. Annie Edison did not belong in a place like this. She wasn't used to bars on her window, or the flashing red and blue lights of police cars keeping her up at night.
So when Annie saw that ad in Thursday's paper it was like a gift from the Universe itself. It was perfect (2 BR/1 bath), and the rent was beyond affordable. She could already see herself lounging on the couch - no holes or springs poking through the fabric, a normal couch - gabbing with her new roommate (ahh the word roommate was so exciting, so full of possibilities), taking a shower without the fear of someone watching her through a hole in the wall.
Of course Annie's best friend and inventor of bad ideas, Britta Perry, was against the entire thing.
"You got tear-gassed at world trade rally," Annie said skeptically. The pair was eating grilled cheese sandwiches on the roof of Britta's apartment building (on the scale of Awful Living Conditions Britta's apartment ranked slightly below Annie's, only because she had almost no furniture except for a lawn chair and a mattress she stole off the street). "I don't think you're in a position to say what I should or shouldn't do."
"Look," Britta said, shrugging off her friend's misguided comments. "I'm just saying this could turn into one of those Single White Female deals where your roommate tries to murder you with a shoe. I really don't want that to happen."
"I don't even know what that is."
Britta groaned. "God, you're an infant. That movie came out in 1992 for christ's sake."
"I'm sorry I'm not as cultured as you are."
"Just be careful, Annie," Britta said, giving her that mom look she always seemed to adopt when dispensing advice. "You don't even know anything about this girl you want to move in with! She didn't leave a number in her ad or anything. I smell rouse."
"I think that's the ruptured septic tank."
Britta rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her sandwich. It was a bit frustrating being treated like a little kid all the time. Annie could take care of herself. She lived on her own for almost two years, and her neighborhood was as bad as they came. One of those neighborhoods you saw on the news all the time for harboring crack houses and fugitives.
Sure Britta was older, but the woman was making grilled cheese sandwiches with an iron. She had more cats than sensible pairs of shoes. Really, Annie should be mothering her instead of the other way around.
So with her head and spirits held high, Annie approached the door to apartment 303. She was dressed in her most pleasing cardigan and ballet flats so as to make a charming first impression. Maybe her potential roomie would be interested in her fashion, and they could go on shopping trips together?
She knocked three times and waited with bated breath. The excitement was gnawing away at her stomach. Finally, the door creaked open... revealing the barrel of a Nerf gun?
Annie stared at the offending object, her brow furrowed. What did this mean?
"Password?" a voice said. A male voice.
"Um..." Annie squeaked out. "Um... excuse me?"
"You need the password if you want to get in." The voice, though rather methodical, was speaking to her matter-of-factly, as if she was stupid for not understanding what he meant.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Annie said, and she did realize she was speaking to a plastic children's toy instead of a responsible adult. "I'm here for a roommate interview. There was an ad in the paper."
The door shut. Annie huffed indignantly. Was someone playing a joke on her? As much as it pained her to admit, Britta might have been right about this smelling like a rouse. She was about to turn and leave, saving herself from even more embarrassment, when the door opened - all the way this time.
The owner of the Nerf gun was a tall, lanky guy, maybe a year or two older than she was. Probably the most alarming thing about him was the cyborg-esque mask he was wearing on the right side of his head. Now she really was feeling set up.
"Come in," he said, stepping aside graciously.
Annie did, although it was against her better judgement (which she was apparently lacking lately). Apartment 303 was everything she had been hoping for, a far cry from the shit hole fire hazard she had been subjecting herself to.
"Um..." Annie was at a loss for words. "Is... are you? You live here?"
He had taken off that silly robot mask, which put Annie more at ease, and was now staring at her, a piece of paper in his hands.
"I used to live with Troy, but he had to move out," the guy explained. "I'm Abed."
"Annie Edison." She might as well be polite.
"Before he left Troy gave me a list of questions to ask if someone wanted to come stay here," Abed continued. "'Question one: are you, or have you ever been a serial murderer?'"
Annie made an annoyed gasped, plucking the paper from Abed's hands. She scanned the rest of the questions - which were all equal parts ridiculous and pointless.
"'Question seventeen'," she read. "'Are you a shape shifter?' What kind of interview is this?"
"A perfectly legitimate one."
Annie took a deep breath. She could already see Britta's smirking face. Her obnoxious I told you so was ringing in Annie's ears.
"You can probably cross the shape shifter one off the list," Abed told her. "You don't seem the type." He made to grab the paper from her, but Annie held it behind her back.
"Are you making fun of me or what?" Annie asked. "Because if you are then... then that's really... mean. You're being mean. And an.. and an asshole. So.. yeah."
Abed didn't respond, only looking at her like she was a complex math problem he was having trouble solving. Annie courteously handed him back the paper, avoiding his gaze as best she could.
After about five minutes of tension filled silence he said, "'Question twenty-nine: were you ever recruited by a secret society to assassinate the president?'"
---
Annie had no choice. She had already made arrangements with her landlord to move out. She even started packing up most of her things, and sold her bed to the owner of the sex toy shop she lived above (supposedly her old one had given out due to some reason Annie would rather not know).
Britta came over to gloat, and to raid what was left of her fridge.
"I told you," Britta said, sniffing the contents of a half-eaten yogurt. "Didn't I tell you? I told you something like this would happen."
"No, you didn't." Annie scowled. "You said I would get stabbed to death with a shoe."
"Implying that your roommate would turn out to be not what you expected." Britta smiled winningly. "So therefore, I. Told. You. Fucking. So."
"Jokes on you though, because I'm still moving in."
The spoon stopped half-way to Britta's mouth, which was still open, agape. "What? You're still going through with it? Are you crazy?"
"Apparently," Annie said, miserably. "I mean.... it's not a bad thing, right? Sure the guy's a bit... I don't know, but it's a nice place. I'm pretty sure the water isn't brown."
"I don't think living with a guy is a good idea," Britta said. "For one, it's painfully cliche, so painful my head hurts just from thinking about it."
Annie eyed her friend with disdain. "Is there a two?"
"Anf twhoo," Britta said through a mouthful of Yoplait. She swallowed. "And two, the guy sounds like a nutcase."
"So?" At this point Annie was solely trying to prove Britta wrong. It didn't matter that she thought the same thing. "Have you forgotten about the robot incident?"
"Fondly, actually." Britta rolled her eyes. "So what? You're saying you're both nuts from the same tree?"
"I'll make it work," Annie said with as much resolve as she could muster. "I can do this."
5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Stiles/Allison, Allison/Lydia, Stiles/Erica, Scott/Isaac, Scott/Stiles (friendship though but I have to include it)
Character I find most attractive: Stiles... god Dylan pls
Character I would marry: Stiles oops
Character I would be best friends with: Oh man idk. Scott or Allison or Lydia?? Uhh
a random thought: I hate how Stiles/Erica was thrown out the window
An unpopular opinion: I don't really like Stiles/Derek. Sometimes I sort of appreciate them but then... ehhh...
my canon OTP: CAN I JUST SAY SCOTT/STILES OK BROTP OF A LIFETIME
Non-canon OTP: Stiles/Allison
most badass character: I'm biased toward Allison but Lydia is pretty badass
pairing I am not a fan of: Boyd/Erica
character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Ummm Erica towards the end :(
favourite friendship: Scott/Stiles sob
character I want to adopt or be adopted by: No one I don't like that question lol
