A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit short. I had writer's block somethin' fierce.

It's not like Britta was expecting to slow dance with Annie in front of the entire school at the Fall Formal. But she still isn't taking Annie's cold shoulder very well. You'd think for all her insistence that she is mature, Annie would realize that her awkward avoidance is not the best way to handle this situation. Then again, it's not like Britta's incessant sidelong glances and mental obsession is a good way to handle it, either.

Annie hopes she isn't hurting Britta's feelings. She hopes she understands that she can't look at her and not flush red and sweat and stutter. Shirley just won't leave her side, and it's throwing her off. What if she meets Britta's eyes and blushes and subconsciously bites her lip, and Shirley notices and doesn't think it's nice and guilt trips her into oblivion?

You know what? Who needs Annie's attention to have fun? Britta finds Troy on the dance floor and starts breakin' it down like she hasn't since her anarchist days. She hopes Troy doesn't find it odd that she keeps inching closer to where Annie is busy doing the electric slide with Shirley (who still has her oversized bag over her shoulder).

What Troy does notice is that the further left on the dance floor they go, the more aggressive Britta gets with her dancing. And Troy's definitely not complaining. He tries to catch Jeff's eye and get an "atta bro" nod or at least an impressed eyebrow-raise. Instead, he gets an exasperated eye roll.

Britta fails in getting Annie to look her way. So she decides to take a break at the refreshments table. Jeff intercepts her on her way.

"What the hell was that, Britta?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Um, try the clothed sex with Troy on the dance floor over there."

"Oh, come on, Jeff. It wasn't that bad."

"Britta, you are a good ten years older than that boy. Cool. It. Down."

"Alright, fine, Dad."

"What has gotten into you tonight? You're being weird."

Britta sighs. "I wish I could tell you."

They both join Abed by the regular-sized cookies and the punch that may have been spiked by Professor Duncan. Britta and Jeff talk about how dumb the dance is and how corny the decorations are. Abed silently watches them interact and mentally records the dialogue to review later. Eventually, Pierce returns from his 45 minute bathroom trip, and Troy, Annie and Shirley come in from the dance floor.

"Well I don't know about you guys, but I've had enough sweaty, awkward bouncing for one night. What do you say we steal some refreshments and hang out in the library for a bit before we go home?"

Everyone thinks Jeff's idea is a good one.

There's a lull in the laughter and Britta announces that she has to go to the bathroom.

"Annie?"

Annie doesn't actually look at Britta, but she wordlessly follows her out of the room. Shirley looks down at the table, disguising her slight frown.

The bathroom is packed, and Britta realizes this was not the best place to go to talk to Annie. She ushers her into the corner where they can hear each other speak.

"Annie, what's wrong? Why can't you even look at me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all. It's just… I'm so worried that I'm going to let something slip and that Shirley won't want to be my friend anymore."

"Oh, Annie. We don't have to tell anyone, but you can't get caught up in what the others think, okay? All that matters is that you're happy with yourself. If there's one thing life has taught me, that's it. Are you happy with what's going on?"

"Absolutely!"

"Then it doesn't matter what Shirley would say. Or anyone for that matter. Do you get that?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do." Annie's beaming, and she straightens her spine as a physiological mirror of her psychological shift in mindset.

"You look really hot right now, by the way."

And before you can say "rowboat cop", Annie finds herself in the handicapped stall, crushed between Britta and the wall while several girls stop fixing their smudged lipstick and their frizzy hair for a second, wondering if those noises are what they think they are.

"Girls are supposed to take a long time in the bathroom, but you two came back looking more disheveled than you did when you left. Something isn't right here."

You'd think Britta would know by now that nothing gets past Abed.

"Um. Well. There were a lot of people out there and the halls and restroom were really crowded." Annie offers an explanation that quiets Abed down, but leaves him looking like someone offered him a snack bar when he said he could eat a horse.

They all leave to their respective apartments/hotel rooms/townhouses/parents' houses. Britta offers to drive Annie home, and she accepts.

"Um. Annie?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Are we going to keep doing this?"

"Like secretly hooking up?"

"Yeah. Whatever the hell this is."

"I don't know. What are we? What are we doing?"

"What do you want to be?"

"Why do you always ask me these things?"

"Because I'm afraid to make a decision for you."

"Well, don't be. Tell me what we are. Tell me what we should be."

"Annie, these things aren't cut and dry. There aren't easy answers for human interactions."

"It's just… I don't like this weird limbo. I mean, I like that it makes me feel grown-up and cool for not needing to define our relationship, but I'm starting to get nervous. Is that stupid?"

Britta pulls into Annie's driveway.

"No. Not at all. Nothing you feel can be stupid, Annie. Look. Do you want to get coffee and see a movie with me tomorrow afternoon? We can go out of town so we don't run into Shirley."

"I would like that. A lot."

"Well, then. I'll call you tomorrow morning."

Annie bounces inside. Thankfully, the house is asleep, and she floats her way up the stairs and into her room. She hasn't felt this giddy and silly since she made out with Jeff. And even then there was guilt mixed in with all the other happy emotions. She has a date tomorrow. Not with an ambiguously gay high schooler. Not with a hippie who just wants to eat ice cream in the park. A real, grown-up date. With Britta.

Wait. Does this mean she and Britta are dating now? Are they girlfriends? While half of her doesn't care, the other half needs to know. Because that half needs assurance that Britta's not going to turn out to be straight or transfer to Delaware.

As much as Annie tries to be detached and cool, she's still an emotional teenage girl with a life so hectic and unpredictable, it warrants some sort of stability. She needs someone to be a constant.

A warm smile creeps its way onto Britta's face as she drives home. Tomorrow, she'll get to watch Annie's eyes light up and her arms wave as she tells more stupid stories. Tomorrow, she'll get to bicker with Annie about who's going to pay for coffee and movie tickets. Tomorrow, she'll get to listen to Annie vacillate between too-cool-for-labels and insecure-and-in-need-of-some-sort-of-commitment. Sometimes, Britta hates that warm fuzzy feeling of total affection in the pit of her stomach.

She's not sure if this makes Annie her girlfriend. But whatever. They'll sort it out. Honestly, she hopes it does. The last thing she wants to do is scare the girl away by getting too serious, but she's not going to pretend she's too aloof and alternative for a committed relationship with a girl she really likes.

Yeah, she said it. Or thought it, rather. She likes her.

Britta likes Annie.