AN: Apologies for the gap between updates- I've been kind of busy and also re-wrote this a few times.

Also, I have no idea if the database that I mention in this chapter actually exists. I do know that there is some kind of thing of this nature that lawyers etc have access to as my friend (who is a lawyer) has mentioned it a few times. However I know nothing about what it actually is, so please consider my reference to it extreme artistic licence.

Happy reading x

Jeff sat at his desk, his unnecessarily expensive pen poised between his fingers, tapping down on an unnecessarily expensive, 'Executive Bobbing Chicken' toy as he gazed out of his excessively large window at the panoramic sprawl of Greendale, twenty eight storeys beneath him. Cars darted about like multicoloured robotic ants swarming the grid-like streets, as the buzz of city life unfolded before his eyes.

Somewhere in that sprawl, each of his friends was carrying out their daily lives, unaware that they where flitting across his distracted brain at that very moment. Shirley, he imagined, would be at her bakery, expertly managing the production of pillowy sugared meringues. Troy would be at the elementary school, coaching his lunchtime superhero football team (an enterprise in its infancy which, as Jeff had phrased for his friend in the business marketing strategy, "integrated comic book appreciation with football skills, thus fostering teamwork and social awareness for the under twelves". It was mainly an excuse for Troy to indulge in his two greatest passions, with the potential for actually, maybe, sort of, making rent). Abed would be locked in an editing suit, slurping up buttered noodles and fine tuning his latest meta-meta-pseudo-meta docusitdramacom. Britta would be in her own office, editing her bi-weekly advice column for the Greendale Anarchist Times, and Pierce- Jeff shuddered, he'd rather not think about what Pierce was doing.

It was funny, Jeff thought, that for all those years before college that he had sat in this office, staring at this view, the same people would have been carrying out their lives right under his nose and he had had no idea they even existed. All those people who now meant so much to him- more than he would like to think that he let on- had been so insignificant to him back then. Yet they were there, right under his nose, busy becoming the people he would meet, the people who would have such a profound effect on him, the people who would make his life as fantastic as it was now.

One person in particular had been busy becoming herself, living her life, going through hell, whilst he sat in his office and watched, blissfully oblivious. He wondered what he had been doing the day Annie checked herself into rehab, or the day she went into labour, or the day she signed the adoption papers. Getting an idiotic, British alcoholic Professor off his drink driving charge, perhaps? Or shopping for his precious faucets? Or just sat with a beer in front of a soccer game that he wasn't really interested in? As he began to think about the kaleidoscope of human activity that existed right outside his window, Jeff began to see the appeal of the Abed-like fantasy of becoming a fly-on-the-wall meta-being, able to zip in and out of the space/time continuum and contentedly spy on anyone and anything, past, present and future. But the painful fact of the matter was, thought Jeff, that this was an impossibility, and the yearning stirred up just by pondering on the idea for a few minutes, was unsettling. He tapped the desk chicken's top hat again and watched it bob up and down, vigorously pecking a small scratch in the chrome finish of his worktop.

For the rest of the day, Jeff tried to concentrate on what he was paid to do. But his curiosity had been spiked by his own unintentional lunchtime philosophising, and he just couldn't make himself care about the case files in front of him. He knew he could find out what Annie was doing just by calling her, or Shirley or Troy or Abed or Britta or Pierce for that matter. But what about the people you couldn't call? The ones who you knew existed, but you wondered sometimes if they had any idea that you did? "Like The President or Superman!" He heard Troy's voice inside his head. "Or my dad, or… or Annie's baby", his own brain answered back.

Jeff's eyes glanced across his computer screen, seeking out the Solitaire icon on his desktop. Instead, they rested on the icon of his document access software, the software that gave him- a qualified lawyer- access to a special database of legal and often confidential documents and transcripts, documents that could enable him to carry out research on individuals who had any dealings with legal bureaucracies in the USA. Legal bureaucracies such as adoption agencies. He double clicked quickly and opened the programme before he had a chance to question himself. His fingers flashed across the keyboard and Annie's name appeared in the search box. Suddenly he paused, index finger hovering over the return key. He swallowed, took a deep breath, scrunched his eyes shut and slammed down. Gingerly opening one eye, Jeff saw that four results had been returned. Scanning the titles he saw that two, dated in the mid nineties, referred to Annie's parents' divorce, the other two, dated only six years ago, were what he was looking for. Heart pounding against his rib cage and his breathing so shallow he almost choked, Jeff clicked on the link, and a PDF appeared across his screen.

It was surprisingly short thought Jeff (who, as a criminal lawyer was treading unfamiliar territory), for such a significant piece of a paper work. Dates, the name of the hospital and the gender of the baby were all filled in, in immaculate black ink. Printed in a box in the top right hand corner was the case number, Jeff made a note of it, and scrawled at the bottom, in a wobbly version of a familiar hand, was Annie's loopy, feminine signature. Jeff's stomach jolted as he took it in. Suddenly he felt extremely uncomfortable and self conscious, it was eerie and perverse and bizarre- what he was doing. He felt like he was digging up a grave and spying on the ghost. He slammed his laptop shut and walked out of the office to make an extended trip to the ground floor water cooler.

Half an hour later though, he was back. And by five thirty, he had the names of Annie's baby's parents, their last known address and, the name they had given to the daughter whom they had adopted six years ago.

Why had he done that? Jeff thought to himself as he continued to piece tiny bits of Spaceship Lego together. Some things, like being a meta-being, were impossible for a very good reason.

xxx

"Jeff? Is that you?" Annie's voice chimed across the apartment as the door clicked shut.

"Hey, where are you?"

"Lounge" she replied. Jeff threw his bag down in the hallway and headed to where his girlfriend was sat crossed legged on the couch, her books and paper spread across the coffee table and the floor, and all other flat surfaces.

Jeff gestured to a pile a papers which were taking spot his on the couch. "Can I?"

"Mmmmmn." Jeff shifted the pile onto the floor and collapsed next to Annie.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, how was work?"

"The usual… what have you been up to today?" Annie shrugged and began chewing her pencil. "Annie?"

"Oh it's nothing" she sighed. "It's just, I wrote to my mom a few weeks ago- to tell her about the baby. I sent her a copy of the new sonogram. I don't know why I thought she might be happy, maybe build some bridges…. Anyway, she wrote me back today." Annie stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, she came back with a slightly crumpled envelope and thrust it towards Jeff and perched on the arm of the couch.

Jeff took the letter from its envelope, a rectangular piece of paper slid out and fluttered to the floor.

"It's a cheque" Annie informed him. "For $500." Jeff frowned, placed it to one side and unfolded the letter.

A few brief lines of perfectly uniform script met his eyes.

Annie,

I received your letter and I can't say I am surprised by your news. I find it a terrible shame, Annie, that you continue to live your life in such an irresponsible, mediocre manner. But it is your choice to pursue these fantastical ideals. You had so much potential and I blame myself for you wasting it, and your lack of direction and integrity. I hope this Jeffrey, whoever he is, can make you happy and give you whatever it is that you think that you need- even if that something goes against everything I raised you for. Enclosed is a cheque, I trust that you will spend it appropriately- on the child. Perhaps this is your second chance.

Yours Sincerely,

Mom.

"Well we can put this in the drawer next to the cheque from Pierce which we won't be depositing." In agreement, Annie took the paper and tore it into pieces. "We don't need her money, and you don't need her."

Annie nodded half heartedly. Then she smiled a little. "It was lovely of Pierce, even if we don't use it. You know Jeff, I've been thinking, and I think it would be a really nice gesture if we got the baby to call him Grandpa."

"NO."

"But Jeff-"

"No!"

"Why? Because you'd have to spend more time than absolutely necessary with an old man who's shown you nothing but generosity and affection since the day you met him, yet you still insist you can't stand? Or is it because showing him that affection would mean you'd have to admit that in actual fact you were incredibly fond of him?"

"No, because I don't want to encourage him. If he thinks he's Grandpa, he'll be around here all the time, being his racists, insensitive, flatulent self, teaching the baby bad habits and upsetting you."

"He doesn't upset me!"

"Last time he came over for dinner, he called you fat."

"So? Besides, I am starting to look like I shoplifted Jupiter."

"It's not a planet, it's a baby."

"Jeff, why are you getting so defensive about this?"

"I'm NOT!"

"You ARE! It's MY body, and if Pierce wants to call me fat, he can damn well call me fat."

"Its my baby and-

"OUR baby"

"And…"

"And? Don't you dare turn this baby into a testosterone fuelled excuse for you to butt antlers with men who pose no threat to your ego, obsessive vanity or fragile sense of masculinity?"

"I'm not- I" Jeff was speechless. He was finding it more and more unnerving that Annie seemed to have surpassed him in the ability to have the final word. Her's seemed to be the closing argument on all their spats these days, and though he was still king of the grand motivational speech, she ruled the roost on petty squabbling.

"That's settled then, Grandpa Pierce it is."

Jeff shrugged and opened a beer. "S'pose it'll be nice for the kid to have one grandfather figure…"

"Yes, it will and I think we need to hang on tightly to the people we have got left. I don't want our baby growing up like I did, all isolated and repressed. I want him or her to be surrounded by exciting affectionate people and build blanket and pillow forts every day, and understand how to operate dreamatoriums and learn to speak blorgon, and eat buttered noodles for dinner at least once a week, and-"

"And get beaten to a pulp in the school yard every day?"

"No-" Annie pouted indignantly.

"It's fine, I'll buy it nice trainers and it can be cool nerd."

Annie rolled her eyes. Jeff smiled and fell silent for a moment, thinking about the little feet, currently inside Annie, which would soon be inside the tiny little booties, knitted in a team effort by Shirley and Britta and currently tucked neatly in a drawer, awaiting their occupant, whose arrival was now only two months away. His eyes scanned the apartment, trying to imagine it strewn with baby stuff instead of Annie's books…

"Wait? Why are you studying? You've already graduated? Honestly Annie, sometimes you take conscientious way too far!"

"I'm not, its baby stuff. I've been reading up."

"Gross," muttered Jeff, casually flicking through the pages of What to Expect When You're Expecting, which he now noticed was resting on the arm of the couch. "Do you really need to read all this stuff?"

"Yes. I want to be prepared."

"But don't you kind of know what to expect, it's not like you haven't done this before or anything…"

Jeff's voice trailed off as Annie's cheeks flushed scarlet. She returned to chewing her pencil and flicking rapidly through the pages of her book.

"I'm sorry,I-"

"Its fine," said Annie, curtly. There was a tense silence, then Annie burst into tears. Jeff rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her. Huge, hysterical, gulping sobs erupted from her and her shoulders shook under Jeff's embrace.

"Hey, hey hey. Sssssh, its ok." He attempted to comfort her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she choked through tears. Jeff continued to hold her tightly and Annie's fingers dug deeply into the skin of his arm. She was trembling as she took a few deep breaths and swallowed her last few sobs. "I'm sorry, its hormones…"

"Annie?" Jeff responded, in a tone that reeked of I don't believe you.

"Its just, my mom. She always gets me wound up. She makes me feel like such a terrible person and she always reminds me of all the stuff I don't want to think about." Jeff's arms remained draped across Annie's shoulders and he rocked her ever so slightly back and forth. "She makes me feel like I've failed everything and I'm going to screw it all up again."

"Hey, stop this, you're the opposite of terrible and you'll be a fantastic Mom to whoever this little guy is." He patted Annie's swollen belly and, as if in agreement, a little fluttering of tiny feet against his hand, answered back. Annie giggled. "We're really proud of you."

"And I'm really proud of you, and I am looking forward to this, but I wish I had a time machine or a magic mirror or something so I could know for sure that some of the things I screwed up in the past aren't still screwed up… if you know what I mean?"

"You're talking about your other baby?" Jeff didn't really need to ask but it seemed better just to say it rather than continue being transparently cryptic.

"Mmmmm. I mean, I know I can't and I need to not think about it and think about doing the best for this little one, but it's easier said than done. "

"Yeh," agreed Jeff quietly. Neither of them spoke. Jeff kissed the top of Annie's forehead and she rested her head into nape of his neck, sliding a hand down to gently glide over the curve of her stomach. Jeff kept one arm draped across Annie, but the other slid free and his hand found its way to the pocket of his pants, where he had placed the piece of paper containing all of his day's research. He fingered it thoughtfully…

Next chapter should be up soon xxx