Jeff walked over the bridge from MIT towards his office, and mulled over his next move. He had a client meeting the next morning, but the rest of his day was free, so he didn't hurry. It wasn't that long a walk, anyhow; everything was right on top of everything in Boston, compared to Greendale.

Rather than talk to himself like a crazy man, he called Mark.

"What's up, Jeff? You want to grab some lunch? There's a Thai place I haven't taken you to, they do a killer larb gai —"

"Nah, I'm out of the office. Just finished talking to Russ Borchert at MIT. Very friendly. Still weird… it's sort of like Greendale follows me wherever I go…"

"Greendale?" Mark asked, perplexed. "Oh, you mean the school, not the town."

"Yeah. No new info about Pierce."

"Greendale probably wouldn't follow you so much if you didn't spend so much time thinking about it. And about the people from it. And by people I mean, dot dot dot." Mark paused. "I mean Annie."

"Oh, not you too," Jeff complained. "Borchert was asking about her… listen, talk to me about something that isn't this."

"Okay, buddy." Mark cleared his throat. "Apropos of nothing I was pricing apartments within commuting distance of the J Edgar Hoover Building. You know it's surprisingly expensive, but…"

"Cash!"

"Fine, fine. New case. You ready for this?"

"Absolutely." He needed something else to think about.

"Let me tell you a story — the best kind of story, a tale of two corporate entities and a regulatory agency."

"Everybody's favorite," agreed Jeff gamely.

"The FCC controls licenses for the wireless spectrum, as you know," Mark continued. "Radio waves. Wireless bandwidth. Cell phones, GPS, FM and AM radio, shortwave, broadcast television, wifi, they all broadcast at particular frequencies, right? And no two things can broadcast at the same frequency, or they interfere with one another. So the government assigns portions of the spectrum, selling some of it at auction, setting some of it aside for military use, and so on. Or technically they auction or sell licenses for monopoly use of portions of the spectrum."

"With you so far," Jeff said.

"One technology company, Via, owns the license for a chunk of the spectrum. Another technology company, Interslice, wants to buy it off them. Via's never done anything with it since they bought the license so they're happy to sell. Interslice, the villains of our little parable, are claiming that they should be able to buy it discounted because the FCC put a restriction on uses of that portion of the spectrum that might interfere with the GPS satellites. They've lobbied the FCC to rescind Via's license so they can pick it up for a song, which is obvious hanky-panky, and worse than that, they've conned a group of poor, undeserving-of-this-treatment Via's shareholders to file suit against the Via board, claiming that the board's refusal to just roll over and accept Interslice's lowball bid was a breach of all the usual things minority shareholders claim breaches of.

"So our client is fighting off a shareholder lawsuit, an insultingly low bid from Interslice, and the FCC breathing down our necks. Into that breach step the heroic warrior-poets of Biddle Heath!"

"This might be a little outside our wheelhouse," Jeff observed. "It sounds very complicated and also very nerdy. Does the Via CEO have a son in a frat who accidentally bought some cocaine thinking it was powdered sugar? That's more in my line."

"I don't know. I mean, you're right, this isn't our usual bag," Mark admitted. "Will brought it in; I think he did some work for Via last year. But we're getting some hired guns on it, corporate litigation specialists."

"Will Stone originated the case?" Something in Mark's description rang a bell in Jeff's head.

"Yeah, yeah. So I need you to go down to Delaware and meet our new co-counsel next week. And you know…." Mark's tone turned cajoling. "It's only two stops on Amtrak from Wilmington to DC…"

"Mark," Jeff said urgently. "What's the full name of our client?"

"What? Uh… hold on… 'Via Laser Lotus Telecommunications, LLC.' Man, Will picked the least interesting part of the name to shorten with. I'm totally calling our side Laser Lotus… Why do you ask?"

"Is the CEO's name… uh…" Jeff concentrated for a moment. A hawthorn was a tree… "Is it Alder or anything like that? Oak, or Willow, or…"

"It's Ryan Boothe, with an E at the end. Why, he again asked his friend politely, do you want to know?" A slight edge had crept into Mark's tone, belying his genial self-narration.

"No reason," said Jeff. "Listen, I'm not going to make it back to the office this afternoon. Email me everything and I'll read it at home, all right?"

"…Sure," Mark said cautiously. "Listen, I'll lay off the DC talk, I can tell it's bugging you."

"Thanks. I mean… thanks."

"You sure you don't want to grab a late lunch?"

"Yeah, sorry. I'll see you tomorrow."


Rather than head back to the office Jeff took a right and wandered into the botanical garden. He wasn't sure whether it was technically part of Boston Common,, or not — he sort of hoped it was, as the stretch of park called the Common had otherwise been surprisingly unimpressive. The garden at least had the swan boats. He took a footpath down towards the water, where there was a view of the boat dock.

Jeff imagined Annie walking beside him, bundled against the crisp fall air, smiling at the sunlight and the leaves that hadn't yet changed and all the people walking dogs. He wondered, not for the first time that day, what she'd have said if she were there.

You should move on, too. You should ask out that girl Linda.

"I don't want to ask out that girl Linda," Jeff muttered, quietly enough not to disturb any passersby.

Well, you should. You should want to, and you should do it. He imagined Annie tilting her head up, eyes closed, basking in the sun.

"I don't want to." Jeff sat on a bench and stared at ducks.

Imaginary Annie sat lightly next to him. When was the last time you went on a date? Was it before or after the second paintball game?

"It wasn't that long ago," Jeff scoffed. "I graduated. You graduated. You went off to be a hospital administrator —"

Pharmaceutical rep.

He shrugged. "I dated. I dated a bunch of women between starting my law practice and losing it."

Liar. You didn't. Imaginary Annie glowered at him in a way he found irresistibly cute.

"You don't know that."

Real Annie doesn't know that, but I'm just a voice in your head so I know everything you do. You passed up a half-dozen opportunities, not just for casual sex, but relationships. Maybe nothing that would have worked out, but you didn't even try. And here you're doing it again. You need to move on, Jeff. Wasn't that one of the reasons you fled Greendale?

Jeff said nothing.

I've moved on, Imaginary Annie continued. I'm down in Washington, DC, working at the FBI. I wear sharp suits and I get up early and I get things done. I turn a lot of heads, and I've taken your advice and I'm trying to forget you, so I go on dates.

Jeff said nothing.

Or I went on dates, mused Imaginary Annie. Actually I still go on dates, but there's just the one guy. His name is, I don't know, New Jeff. I've moved on, remember. He's tall and he's ten years younger than you and of course he's head over heels for me, because he's not an idiot. And he's got a good career doing something technical with computers at the FBI or maybe a civilian contractor. New Jeff gets along well with his family and he doesn't drink and his first impulse is never to run away from his problems —

"Good," muttered Jeff. "I hope that's true."

New Jeff and I will be moving in together before the end of the year, because unlike some people, New Jeff isn't afraid of commitment. Five years from now we'll be married with a couple of kids and I'll be an FBI agent and we'll work together to balance both our careers with our home life. We make a great team, New Jeff and I.

Jeff winced. "I'm just happy you're happy."

Oh, come on, Vince Vaughn! Imaginary Annie was scornful. You can be honest with me. Lie to anyone else, but be honest with me.

"I do want her to be happy." Jeff watched a duck flap its wings ineffectually, maybe begging for breadcrumbs he didn't have. "I mean, yes. I also want her to miss me like I miss her. I want her to pine for me. I want her to track me down — she could have by now if she wanted to — and slap me and tell me I was wrong to do what I did. I'd love to have been wrong. But I want her to be happy."

You wheedling jackrabbit! I like you! Knowing my friend Jeff makes me happy, pointed out Imaginary Annie. You think I texted you basically every day the whole time I was in DC because I didn't like it when you texted me back? You think I was doing that just to be nice? I don't do anything just to be nice.

"Okay, that's not true. You do nice things for the sake of it all the time. You…" Jeff tried to think of an example. "You did that play for Chang, and then you quit that play for Chang."

I only quit because I thought the director would beg me to come back. I didn't do the play for Chang, I did it for myself. You remember how snippy I was the night of the performance.

"I remember trying to make you feel better."

You remember making me feel better, you mean. Imaginary Annie glared crossly at him. That night was sixty percent a date.

"It wasn't."

Forty percent, then. She shrugged. You were just as selfish as I was — you only wanted me to feel better because it made you feel better to see me happy. Imaginary Annie slid an arm around him and, snuggling close, rested her head on his shoulder. Because you love me.

"I wasn't denying that," he whispered inaudibly.

And you know I love you. Yes, I moved on, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear from you! Get off your ass and goddamn call me! That's right — Annie is mad enough to swear about this!

"I deleted your number."

You memorized my number. And my email. And the number of my desk at the Hoover building in DC, where I don't need to remind you I'm still working. It's not like you don't know how to find me. Imaginary Annie seized Jeff's phone and jabbed in Annie's number, which is to say, Jeff input Annie's number on his phone. They — he — stared at it. Just hit send, she implored him. You're not just hurting yourself, you're hurting me!

"No!" Jeff said, loudly enough that a passing jogger turned her head. He put the phone away hurriedly. "If I call now, just as you're starting to hit things off with New Jeff —"

There is no New Jeff! I made him up! He imagined her lightly swatting him on the arm, a half-teasing reprimand.

"We don't know that."

Jeff sat on the bench and stared at ducks until Imaginary Annie gave up.


After work Annie didn't feel like going home, so she wandered downtown for a while to think. Every so often she thought of something she wanted to tell Jeff, and she'd take out her phone and send him a quick text.

ANNIE to JEFF, 1716:

I can't believe you don't know I'm here.

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

Are you sure you don't know?

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

ANNIE to JEFF, 1721:

Britta said you didn't but it's not like you wouldn't be able to fool her

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

Are you watching me?

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

ANNIE to JEFF, 1739:

You know I have a date

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

I was trying to pretend I was excited about it

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

I didn't get coffee this morning because I don't want to see him

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

ANNIE to JEFF, 1758:

It's kind of cold here today but you know that already don't you?

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

We could be walking through Boston like this together

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

If you weren't such a jerky jerkface self-centered baby

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

ANNIE to JEFF, 1803:

I almost called you twice today

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

ANNIE to JEFF, 1806:

I won't! I won't let you make me!

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

You're right, I do sound like a child. I don't care, though. I refuse to call you.

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

That's what you said you wanted

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

As the sun began to set she drifted the few blocks south towards Boston Common, which she'd never been in before. It was a pretty enough park, not particularly large, or particularly well-lit. She walked along the edge of the park, crossing the street to a statue of a duck with ducklings that seemed familiar, and then continued along a paved path by a pond.

She sat on a bench under a streetlamp. With a heavy sigh she stared out at the darkening water.

ANNIE to JEFF, 1812:

It's been barely a day since I saw you and

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

I was going to say I was already over it

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

But what's the use in lying?

[ERROR MESSAGE DELIVERY FAILED]

JEFF (NEW NUMBER DON'T CALL THIS WHY AM I EVEN SAVING IT?) to ANNIE, 1814:

INCOMING CALL

SLIDE TO ACCEPT

Stunned, she dropped the phone. It fell onto the pavement in front of the bench. Annie bent down to pick it up again. As she straightened back up, phone still ringing, she saw him. About fifty yards away, across the pond; there were people she wouldn't be able to recognize from that far off but he wasn't one of them. He was seated at another bench, phone pressed against his ear as he stared intently at her.

Annie froze, and they sat there, looking at one another, until Jeff's call went to her voicemail. Then she snapped out of it and tried to call him back, and he was trying to call her again at the same time, and whether he took her call or she took his didn't really matter.

"Hello?"

Notes:

Happy holidays!

Jeff Winger and Annie Edison will return in 2016!

I could have been someone
Well, so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me, babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you