Her flight landed ten minutes ago.

Jeff stretches up on his toes, even though he's already head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. He's fixating on the people filing out of the arrivals lounge because if he doesn't then he has to think of what his hands are doing, a dilemma he's never really considered before this moment. Stuffed in to his pockets seems too aloof; if he looks at his phone then he'll risk missing her when she turns the corner. Other people have banners, should he have made a banner?

No, she'd be put off by his poor craftsmanship. Maybe he should have brought along the whole group- as per Frankie's suggestion- but that would have delayed his resolve to kiss her. And he wants to kiss her so badly.

He knows he's panicking, so he hops from foot to foot, stretches out his fingers and clenches his fist over and over again until his heart rate slows down and he can think clearly. Their texts over the past few weeks have grown intimate- his therapist would congratulate him if she could see the way he's opened up to her while they've been apart- but the insecure part of him that's convinced that he's misread the whole situation is vying against his ego. That part has been throwing him the late-night curveball of imagining her stepping off the plane hand in hand with some young FBI intern who just has to see the quaint sights of Greendale. The logical part of him has him re-reading her texts when he gets up in the morning- flushing because there's no way to misinterpret those words and the things they talk about when they're curled up in their respective beds- but the stakes are too high now for him to let his guard down fully.

Fifteen minutes. More and more people are rounding the corner, luggage in tow, and he holds his breath as he waits.

Then she's there, waving at him with her free hand as she tugs a massive suitcase behind her. He pushes through the small crowd to get to her quicker, not caring how desperate it makes him seem. When she flings herself in to his arms, he lifts her up and spins her as their lips meet. Any worries he had about their time apart- and there have been many that kept him up at night- are gone when she opens her mouth to him.

"I've missed you," he breathes against her lips, letting her drop back down to the floor. With her comfy flat shoes she's tiny in his arms and he has to arch down to keep his lips on hers; not that he has any choice when she grips him around the neck and pulls him down to meet her. He's vaguely aware that they're making a scene and for once he doesn't care how he looks to everyone around him. Annie's back.

The journey back to her apartment has him grinning the entire time. She talks animatedly about her time away, waving her hands about in a way he finds dangerously distracting until he pulls her close and kisses the top of her head when they stop at a red light. Traffic turns their forty five minute journey in to a two hour one and she curls up in the passenger seat and drifts off during a particularly slow stretch. He watches her when he gets the chance; let's himself get all googly eyed at the way her lips are slightly parted as she sleeps. She fits in to the curve of the seat in a way that makes him feel a little weak in his stomach, although he doesn't care to contemplate why, and he has a sudden image of lifting her out of his armchair late at night and carrying her to bed. It's not the first time he's found himself deep in daydreams of domestic life with her, and it won't be the last, but he still feels the little jolt of longing that comes along whenever Annie is involved.

Eventually, she sighs and stretches out in the seat next to him. Unfurling like a cat after a long snooze- even though she's been asleep for a mere half an hour- she blinks at him with sleepy eyes.

"Nearly home," he says softly, giving her knee a squeeze. She frowns.

"This isn't the way to your apartment," she murmurs, confused, "Won't we have more time alone there?"

It doesn't take much for him to swing his Lexus round at the right turn and head back in the direction of his apartment, just her eyebrow raised suggestively and a hand slipped up his thigh. He can feel the blood pumping in his ears, head spinning as if he's on his third scotch and he keeps his eyes trained on the road until they're safely parked outside his building.

He's never noticed how slow the elevator is.

Finally, they arrive at his apartment and she's on him the second the door is closed. As hungry as he is, she's ravenous, and she practically slams herself in to his chest when she kisses him- throwing them both off balance. Their kisses are broken by gasps of laughter and his breathy admissions that he's missed her more than he ever let on before.

"I know," she replies, biting at his lip.

"Don't do an Abed and start quoting things," he half admonishes, but his tone is light and right now he would hang on her every word.

He's managed to slip his hands under her shirt, fingertips brushing against the smooth skin around her waist, when there's a bang on the door. Dropping his head down, he growls gently in to the crook of her neck.

"Jeffrey! Are you home? I saw your car outside!"

When Jeff pulls back Annie's expression is wide eyed.

"Is that the Dean?" she mouths in shock and he pulls her to his chest, shuts his eyes and wills the knocking to stop. He feels her shaking with laughter in his arms and shushes gently in to her hair.

"If we ignore him he'll go away," he whispers conspiratorially, "Just. Don't. Move."

"I know you're in there Jeffrey, I have wine!"

"Damn it," he says, more forcefully this time. Reluctantly, he releases her and strides to the front door, pulling it open without ceremony. In the hallway, the Dean has arranged his limbs in an uncomfortable- and Jeff can only assume it's meant to be attractive- pose but starts when he spots Annie sat casually on the edge of the couch.

"Oh, Miss Edison! What a surprise! I didn't realise you were back from DC already," the Dean trills pleasantly, his eyes dropping to the suitcase by the front door, "Did you just get in? Why are you here…"

He trails off, looking between them as they glance awkwardly at one another. For a moment his expression is shocked, but he rallies and throws his hands up in the air.

"Well! I guess there's enough wine for the three of us! I'll fetch us some glasses!"

Jeff glares at him and clears his throat.

"Everything alright Jeffrey? You're not coming down with anything are you? Do you need me to check your temperature?" he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial growl, a hand on Jeff's chest. But Jeff pulls back and takes his place next to Annie, arm brushing hers.

"I'm fine, Dean. Annie and I were just hoping for a quiet night in. You know, to catch up?" He gives him what he hopes is a pointed look and the Dean's face fills with sudden understanding.

"Of course, how silly of me. Annie, we are all ears. I want to hear all about your internship!"

With a sigh, Jeff pushes himself up to his full height and grips the Dean by the shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Craig, it has been ten weeks of foreplay via text and waiting for this very moment. Now, I'm going to take Annie in to my bedroom and we are going to have sex whether you are still here or not. Understand?"

"Oh, Jeffrey that's quite the offer but I'm not sure how comfortable I am watching the two of you-"

"Craig! Go. Home."

When the Dean scurried out of his apartment, the door slamming shut behind him, Jeff feels her arms come around his waist and her cheek pressed against his back.

"So… what was that about taking me in to your bedroom?"

She squeals when he spins round, picks her up and backs her towards his bedroom door.