(Thanks, once again, to both bethanyactually and amrywiol.)
WATERGATE AND MATERNITY
ACT ONE
Annie's world spun and she felt light-headed. It was as though she was seeing herself from outside her own body, floating gently above, disconnected from the world. She hadn't laid eyes on her mother in just over three and a half years, not since May of 2009. Sadie Parker-Edison looked superficially the same as she always had, but Annie thought her face had grown a little more severe, the circles under her eyes a little darker, the perpetual scowl a little stiffer.
She'd always thought that, seeing her mother again, she'd be angry. How dare her mother treat her so badly, et cetera. In the moment, however, Annie only felt exhausted, blank. Delightful as Doreen had turned out to be, it had still been a grueling experience. She'd made it through meeting Jeff's mother in part by promising herself they were going to go back to Jeff's apartment and crawl into his bed and she wouldn't have to think about anything else in the world until Monday morning. Sunday morning, actually, since she'd made brunch plans with Doreen and Jeff. It didn't seem fair that Sadie Parker-Edison would show up here, now, tonight; but Annie couldn't make herself feel anything other than a dull pang.
Annie screwed her eyes shut and opened them again, focusing. Jeff was talking, saying he wasn't Abed. Sadie had called him Abed, despite knowing his real name full well. Annie had no doubt Sadie had compiled reams of information before making this move.
"Jeff is my boyfriend," she said wearily, interrupting Jeff's stammering attempts to explain why he had answered the door, if it wasn't his apartment.
"Oh, of course," Sadie said, baring her teeth at Jeff in a way that could be mistaken for a smile. This wrecked old thing is the best you could do? "Any friend of Annie's."
"It's nice to meet you," Jeff said. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Nothing too terrible I hope." Sadie's laugh was a sound Annie hadn't heard in years. You've tried to prejudice your so-called friends against me but it won't work; they'll soon see the truth. She glanced around. "This is a lovely building you have, by the way." How dare you leave me standing in the hall like a tradesman! I demand you invite me in instantly!
"Thank you so much," Annie said mechanically. "Please, come in. Can I offer you a drink?"
"Oh, thank you," Sadie replied, strolling in. She dropped her coat on the floor in front of Jeff, or would have, if he hadn't caught it. "I wouldn't say no to a glass of sauvignon blanc, if you have any." You don't, of course. You live like an animal in its den.
Jeff draped Sadie's coat over a kitchen chair and shot Annie a panicked look, which she returned.
As he stumbled after Sadie, who had seated herself primly on the couch, Annie hurried into the kitchen. "I don't think we have any sauvignon blanc," she called. In one of the cupboards she had a boxed white wine, which she'd bought on her first official grown-up liquor-store trip almost a year ago now. Annie wasn't sure where it was, she didn't want to serve her mother boxed wine, and she was fairly sure it was Riesling anyway.
"Oh, it's no problem, just tap water would be fine," Sadie called back to her. Less than a minute in your home and already you disappoint me. Is this my fault? Am I unreasonable in my expectations?
Annie grabbed a glass and filled it quickly, not wanting to leave Jeff alone with Sadie any longer than she had to. She dashed to the couch as rapidly as she could manage without spilling anything.
"Thank you," Sadie said, plucking the glass from Annie's hands and setting it on the coffee table in front of her without taking a sip. She used a coaster; thank God, Annie thought, that she had gotten coasters and set them out and even convinced Troy and Abed not to use them as frisbees. Of course I wouldn't make myself sick drinking your unfiltered water. Heaven knows what diseases swim through this filth-hole's plumbing. "So," she continued, turning from Annie to Jeff, "how did you two meet?"
"I've known Annie for a few years now. We were in Spanish 101 together, back in our first semester at Greendale," Jeff began. He sounded composed; he must have seen this question coming and taken a moment to prepare. Annie wished she could have taken Jeff aside and warned him that her mother never asked questions she didn't already know the answer to.
"Greendale?" Sadie repeated, as though confused. "Oh, the community college. GCC. Of course, silly me."
"We were part of a study group, and we took more classes together, and, here we are," he continued. "Of course your daughter is invaluable as a study buddy."
"I'm sure." Sadie beamed at Jeff. Study buddy, he says. He may as well have just said 'I am dating your daughter because she helps me cheat.'
There was a brief lull, during which time Jeff and Annie exchanged baffled and worried looks without Sadie noticing. Or rather, Annie hoped but didn't quite believe that her mother hadn't noticed.
"I'm sorry," Sadie said suddenly. "I know this must come as a shock to you, my suddenly coming over without so much as a call or email. We haven't been in touch lately," she said, which was the understatement of the century. "I thought perhaps in the spirit of the holiday you'd be willing to see me." Do you wish to reject me, and be revealed as an unreasonable and infantile brat in front of your so-called boyfriend, or are you willing to admit you were wrong?
"Of course," Annie said with barely a moment's hesitation. She blinked back tears and willed herself not to crack.
"Oh, thank you so much," Sadie said. She reached over and patted Annie's knee. You see? That wasn't so hard. I'm back now and we can begin fixing all the problems you've made for yourself.
Jeff, perhaps noticing Annie's reaction, cleared his throat. "I hate to be the jerk," he said, "but the thing is, Annie and I have movie tickets and we need to get going."
Annie winced. Jeff was trying to help. Jeff didn't know any better.
"Really?" Sadie raised an eyebrow. "I'm so sorry, don't let me keep you." I'm only the mother you've been estranged from since high school, obviously I'm less important than a movie date with the disbarred liar here. An imaginary movie date, I might add, if it were necessary to drive the point home, which it isn't. "This is what happens when you don't call ahead. What are you seeing?"
Jeff didn't blink. "Life of Pi."
"Oh, you'll have to tell me how that is. Are you seeing the 8:45 screening at the mall or the 9:00 screening at the theater out on Highway 87?" How stupid does this oaf think I am? How much more stupid must he think you, my daughter, to be? Does he lie constantly to you? How can you be sure he does not?
"Yes, exactly," Jeff said, rising, "and if we don't leave in the next minute we'll miss the previews."
"Well, I won't keep you," Sadie said, rising as well. "But before you go, we must make plans to meet up," she said to Annie. "Specific plans."
"Absolutely," Annie said. She was getting that light-headed feeling again.
"Brunch on Sunday?" Sadie suggested. "It's been simply forever since we've gone to Anne-Marie's Room, you and me." Your lying junkyard dog here will of course be absent.
Annie started to nod, despite herself, even though she had already made plans to have brunch on Sunday with Jeff's mother… at Anne-Marie's Room, in fact, at Annie's suggestion.
Fortunately Jeff stepped in, again, snapping his fingers. "Oh, no, you know we have that thing," he said.
"Right," Annie gasped. "Sorry."
"Oh, it's not a problem," Sadie assured her. Invite me to dinner. Invite me to dinner right now.
"How about dinner on Monday night? We can have it here," Annie heard someone say. "I'd like you to meet my friends," the mysterious voice continued. Annie realized it was her own.
"That sounds lovely," Sadie declared. "Well, as I said, don't let me keep you." She gave Annie a perfunctory hug — when did Annie stand up? She'd been sitting a moment ago — and shook Jeff's hand before showing herself out.
Annie managed to avoid toppling over until the apartment door closed. Jeff lunged to catch her as she collapsed, and helped her onto the couch.
"Wow," he said, first petting her shoulder gently, then drawing her into an embrace. "Wow."
Annie started to reply, but it was too hard and she just sighed instead.
For most of Greendale's student body, the Friday after Thanksgiving was a holiday. For Troy Barnes, however, the Friday after Thanksgiving was a Friday like every other Friday. As the Truest Repairman of the Air Conditioning Repair School, his Fridays were occupied with rites, sacraments, and rituals. The morning after dinner at Shirley's he lounged, as usual, in his ceremonial coronet and worksuit of state, upon the gilded Throne of the Artisans. The Throne was a gorgeous art object, an artifact with a long and storied history dating all the way back to the Air Conditioning Repair School's founding in 1979.
"Thank God it's Friday!" chanted the Electricians Three from their lectern facing the Repairman. "Thank God it's Friday!"
"TGIF," intoned the assembly of over eighty jumpsuit-clad men and women.
"Thank God it's Friday!" The first of the Electricians Three, traditionally known as Ada, Maiden of Everflowing Currents, spoke clearly and carefully. This semester's Ada was a senior, like Troy, whose name rhymed with Bella but wasn't Bella. He'd only spoken with her a few times, but he knew she was a termite-inspection major.
"TGIF," repeated the assembly.
"Thank God it's Friday!" The second of the Electricians Three, whose liturgical name was Lisa-Marie, Mother of High Fidelity, tended to mumble. Troy was fairly sure this was ironic, but hesitated to say so, in case he was mistaken. Her real name was Megan, she'd been Ada last year when Troy had become the Truest Repairman, and she was an AC Repair major with a minor in Contracting and a concentration in Renovation Cost Estimates.
"TGIF," repeated the assembly, again.
"Let's dance, the last dance, the last dance tonight." Troy glanced at the third of the Electricians Three, Debra the Crone of Turbine Control. The final line of the Friday opening ceremony had always seemed out of place to him.
Vice-Dean Jerry, resplendent in his ceremonial robes hand-sewn from old vacuum cleaner bags, stepped solemnly to the lectern as the Electricians Three doffed their smocks and sat down with the rest of the assembly. "This week's homily is on the subject of Friday." He cleared his throat. "Thank God it's Friday," he said. "That's what we always say. Thank… God… it's… Friday. We hear that every week, but how many of us have really taken the time to think about what it means?"
Sensing that Jerry had already used all of his A material, Troy decided to intercede. "Excuse me," he said, sitting up.
Jerry cut off his sermon and bowed, as the assembly all straightened in their seats.
"I know we all love the Rite of TGIF," Troy said. "And it's great that everybody's here. I kind of thought attendance would be down today, but apparently not."
"We're Air Conditioning Repairmen and Repairwomen," Jerry assured him. "We're in it for the long haul, boss."
Troy shook his head. "And that's great, thanks. But today is the day after Thanksgiving, and I know a lot of people want to spend time with their families or get good deals on electronics. So I was thinking that maybe we could cut it short today?"
"Cut it short?" repeated Jerry, in a tone that he might have used if Troy had asked him to slaughter a puppy.
"Yeah, you know. Thank everybody for coming out — you guys are great, don't get me wrong — and then just call it a day," Troy said.
"But we… it's…" Jerry fidgeted with his hands. "I mean, of course we can do that, sir, if you want…"
"Can we?" Troy asked. "Show of hands. Everybody?" He waved to the assembly, who slowly raised their hands.
Troy tried to gauge the room. The assembly shifted in their seats, and he couldn't tell whether they were excited about a day off from the ceremonial duties of the Truest Repairman and his flock, or if they were just going along with it.
"Okay, either everybody is on board with this plan or else we have another situation like the time I said Dark Knight Rises was a really bad movie, so, I'm asking, anyone who isn't sincere in their desire to get out of here, please put your hands down." Troy left his hand raised, then, fearing he was unfairly prejudicing the assembly, lowered it.
Most of the assembly, seeing him lower his hand, lowered theirs.
Troy ran his hand down his face. "C'mon, guys," he complained. "I know you don't want to let me down, but c'mon." He sank back into his seat.
"How about we just do a quick run-through?" suggested Vice-Dean Jerry.
"Would it actually be shorter?" Troy asked.
"Well, maybe…" Jerry considered. "Although we had to stop the ritual for this conversation, so when you take this extra time into account…"
Troy grunted in disgust. "Ugh! Just when I think I've gotten the hang of this whole thing, you guys pull something else. Listen. I don't want to be here, okay? Maybe all of you do, but right now Abed is at home marathoning old episodes of Inspector Spacetime and Porcupine Mouse, without me. And Britta is… I don't know what she's doing, exactly, but it's probably more fun than listening to Jerry's sermon, no offense Jerry."
"None taken!" Jerry assured him.
"So I'm going to put my Truest Repairman foot down on the AC Repair Annex floor. Messiah says, let's all just go home." Troy surveyed the assembly, hoping they were impressed by his leadership rather than disappointed.
Megan aka Lisa-Marie the Mother of High Fidelity, raised her hand. "Does this mean I'm not anointing your feet with oil?"
Troy looked at her, then at Jerry, and then back to her. "We're not doing that," he said. "Was that a thing we were going to do? We were never going to do that."
"Sire —"
"I've told you: Troy."
"Yes, Troy. Sire, Troy, may we sidebar?" Jerry tilted his head in the direction of the side door to the Holy Breakroom.
Troy sighed. "Sure," he said, and stood. He cupped his hands around his mouth and cried out. "Everybody go home!"
He started towards the Holy Breakroom, with Jerry and, for some reason, Megan, following him.
Once in the Holy Breakroom, Troy closed the door and settled into a chair with a sigh. "What's this about?" he asked Jerry bluntly as he poured himself a goblet of mead from the carafe that was always chilled and ready. Troy didn't even like mead. He'd suggested that the mead fund be donated to a food bank instead, but the Air Conditioning Repair Official Mead-Poursman had about broken down crying, so as a show of support for poor Teddy Troy made an effort to pretend to like the stuff.
"Troy, sire. Troy." Jerry cleared his throat. "It's about the harvest festival. By ancient tradition dating back to the Reagan administration, you'll be expected to don the crown of ash and alder, to take up the scepter of HEPA filters, and bless the pumpkin-headed king of autumn, so we can burn it and secure blessings for the AC Repair Annex to sustain us through the coming winter. Winter is coming."
"I know, I know." Troy took a swig of mead and despite his best efforts made a face. "I told you I want the budget for the festival cut in half, with the balance going to the women's shelter on Harrison Avenue."
"I know, sire. Troy." Jerry nodded. "And we are coming in very close to that budgetary goal. But there's a minor issue, uh, something that you should have been informed about already. I'm not sure how to put this…" He glanced at Megan.
Megan looked about ready to pop with excitement, bouncing in place and nodding. She clapped her hands together, unable to keep silent any longer. "I can't believe they didn't tell you! We're going to be married!"
Troy did a spit take, spewing mead all over the Holy Breakroom table. The Mead-Poursman rose from his stool in the corner to wipe it up, as Troy slammed the goblet down. "What?"
"I'm going to be the Queen of the Harvest! Bride of the Truest Repairman!" Megan squealed in giddy delight. "I have been dreaming of this since I was a little girl, and it's finally happening, and eeee!" She broke down in gleeful squeaking.
"That's not going to happen —"
"It's just part of the ritual," Jerry said, trying to calm Troy. "It would only be legally binding in places that recognize marriages performed in the state of Colorado." He winced, remembering something. "And the Vatican," he added. "Vice-Dean Laybourne made a special arrangement with Pope John Paul II at their last golf game together."
"That's not… seriously? Laybourne played golf? He didn't look like a golf guy." Troy shook his head. "But that doesn't matter. I am not going to get ritually married just so that you can light a pumpkin-headed effigy on fire!"
Megan looked crushed, much like the Mead-Poursman had when Troy had pitched the food bank idea. "Oh," she said, seeing Troy was serious. "I'm sorry I don't meet your expectations, sire."
"Troy," said Troy. "And it's got nothing to do with you, Megan. It's just, one, I think a lot of these ostentatious displays of wealth are ridiculous and the money could be better used for a lot of things…"
The Mead-Poursman, who had just sat back down on his stool after wiping off the Holy Breakroom table, let out an involuntary yelp.
"I know, Teddy," Troy said over his shoulder. "It's okay." He turned back to Megan and Jerry. "And two, I have a girlfriend."
Jerry cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. And you are certainly free to pursue whatever relationships you choose, in your private life, but as Truest Repairman you have, well, you have certain obligations. And your relationship with Abed Nadir is, no judgement here, sire, but it's not…"
Megan nodded vigorously.
"I've told you like eight times, Jerry, I'm dating Britta," Troy snapped. "Brit-tah!"
"Of course, of course," Jerry said.
"I would never dream of usurping the Consort-Royal's position," Megan added. "It would just be a political thing, and, you know, our kids…" She trailed off as Troy glared at her. "We can just put a pin in the whole question of how many kids, and what to name them, and stuff…"
"We drew up a plan, Jerry," Troy continued. "We drew up a plan to gradually scale back all of this crazy mystic bull hockey and spend the money on better things. I know you read that plan and agreed to it, because you signed it."
"Yes, sire," Jerry said miserably.
Troy sighed. It was hard to stay mad at Jerry about this. He was, after all, the fourth Vice-Dean Troy had appointed in as many months, and the first who had promised not to bullshit him or ignore his demands for fiscal responsibility and the AC Repair school acting like a normal school. "So why is this harvest festival just now coming to my attention?"
"It's kind of a funny story," said Jerry. "You remember the Reign of Terror last spring…"
Jeff and Annie Friday spent together in his apartment.
This wasn't the usual MO, not that they'd been together long enough for there to be a usual MO. Barely three weeks had passed since the day he'd found her in the Historiography classroom and they'd finally happened. Since then Jeff and Annie had spent several days together, but always in elaborate multistage date events Annie seemed to enjoy planning. Or maybe these were plans she'd made many years ago, Date Ideas With Boyfriend To Be Named Later, and her excitement came from finally being able to drive four hours to pick apples and eat smoked turkey sandwiches on a chilly picnic table, plus another four-hour drive back. A trudge through a museum looking at historic antique chairs and tables, interrupted by a cheap lunch and followed by a nice dinner. A trip to the Denver aquarium, which Annie hadn't visited since elementary school and Jeff had never been to. A tour of a local whiskey distillery with tasting… that one had been fun, admittedly. Actually, though only the distillery tour was something he might have thought to do himself, they were all fun. Maybe not the apple picking; there were perfectly good apples available in nearby stores. Better, even, than the end-of-season dregs they'd found. But the drive had been fun, and even at the furniture museum, at worst he could turn and watch her admire a dining chair that some famous chair designer in the 20s had built for somebody's yacht. Dating Annie Edison was, in more than one sense, exhausting; she never just wanted to hide away from the world, snuggle up on a sofa together and watch television.
But when they woke up that morning she suggested blowing off the hike he'd agreed to as a compromise between braving the malls on the busiest shopping day of the year and not braving the malls on the busiest shopping day of the year. He could tell she was still rattled from her mother's sudden appearance the night before, but he was selfish enough to simply accept her pitch and keep her in bed. Plus it was wet. So it wasn't until relatively late in the morning, after the threat of a cold rainy-day hike had passed, that he questioned her on her anti-leaving the house, pro-watching-the-West-Wing policies.
Annie sat on her feet in yoga pants and t-shirt under a sweatshirt she'd borrowed from him, sipping a cup of coffee. "You've watched all this, right?" she asked him, halfway through the third episode of the first season.
Jeff shook his head. "Just the first five seasons. There's two more I haven't seen."
She paused the show. "Do the blonde woman and her boss eventually couple up? They look like they're going to eventually couple up."
He shook his head again. "Not in the first five seasons. I think they do at the end, though."
"Mmm. Like, six, seven years? I hate it when that kind of thing gets dragged out way past the point of plausibility. Get together or move on, people." Annie moved to un-pause the show, but Jeff stopped her. "Hey!" she protested. "A man just explained how government works to a woman. I need the counterbalancing scene of a woman explaining how emotions work to a man!"
"I understand and agree with you," Jeff said. "Right now I've been reminded that men are more analytical than women but I'm not sure whether women are better at nurturing." He paused. "Eventually the show stops doing that. But, uh, you mind telling me why we're here, instead of out braving Black Friday or marching through mud somewhere?"
Annie looked coolly at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "Oh, you know, it's pretty bad outside. Nasty weather. I mean, it's not raining right this second, but I don't trust that sky. You want to order pizza?" she asked suddenly.
"You're changing the subject."
"I'm not! I'm just thinking ahead. If we want a pizza, we should order it now. There's bound to be a bunch of people home today who'll be ordering in. You know Black Friday is the day retailers start to turn a profit for the fiscal year? Big shopping day, glad we aren't out there, I mean, who would we be buying things for? Abed?"
"Annie…"
"Have you tried to shop for Abed? Abed just buys whatever he wants for himself. He's so hard to shop for. You remember his birthday party, we all went in on the briefcase. That was a fun time. Hard to believe it was getting close to two years ago."
"Annie."
"What were we talking about? Pfft, who can remember?" Annie shrugged flippantly. "I should start the episode again. I want to see who wins the argument between the President and the guy who isn't the President. Be thinking about pizza toppings, though."
She un-paused the episode, but Jeff snatched up the remote and re-paused it. "You want to talk about your mother?" he asked.
"What?" Her eyes widened slightly. "Who was talking about Mother? Why would we talk about her? She's just coming over for dinner on Monday, and the apartment will be a mess because Troy and Abed are probably turning the living room into a ball pit right now…"
"Britta's probably there," Jeff offered.
"A ball pit that reeks of pot. Mother will love that. I mean, she'll love whatever. She's just an unconditional approval machine." Annie's shoulders slumped. "God, what am I doing here? I haven't picked out a menu, I haven't washed the windows or gotten rid of the ratty blankets… I should go get ready."
"Uh. Hmm. Counter-proposal," Jeff said. "You stay here for the rest of the day and we order pizza. Tomorrow we head to your apartment and you can make a bunch of lists, and we'll do things on them. Sunday…"
"Sunday's no good," Annie interjected. "We have brunch with your mother."
"Sunday we have brunch with my mother, and then afterwards a whole afternoon and evening to… do whatever." The sight of Annie in his old sweatshirt, just casually lounging, was an inspiring one, after all. Provided he could talk her around this crazy.
She scoffed. "Okay, well, that's what I was about to do, Gerard Depardieu, but then you stopped me."
"I know." Jeff nodded. "I stopped you because… you know she doesn't matter. What she thinks, doesn't matter. She cut you off and abandoned you, so she doesn't get any of the credit for how well you've turned out since then. You're brilliant, loving, unbearably sexy… you're my favorite person."
She smiled shyly. "Well, thank you. But you know she hates you, too."
"What?" Jeff was affronted.
"She said you were too old for me, lazy, and a liar… she called you a junkyard dog at one point." Annie shifted around so she was leaning up against Jeff, her head resting on his shoulder.
"When?"
"Last night." She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "You were there."
Jeff shook his head. "She didn't say any of that. She was really Minnesota nice, but I'm pretty sure I notice when I'm called a liar."
"It was the way she said things. You don't know her like I do. She has this way of making you feel about an inch tall."
Jeff grunted.
Annie let out a long sigh. "And you can't lie to her. She always knows. She always knows best."
Like mother, like daughter, he thought, but Jeff wasn't so foolish as to say that. Instead he said "You make her sound like a supernatural monster. And believe me, I understand…"
"Oh, come on." Annie sat up and glared at him. "Your mother is just falling over herself to love and support you. To love and support me, just from spillover!"
"My father walked out on us when I was eight!"
"Yeah, well, my mother stuck around and spent my whole puberty criticizing me!"
"Right, fine, everybody's a winner in the terrible parent olympics." Jeff scowled, as the conversation wasn't going the direction he'd hoped for. He tried again. "What I'm saying is, she doesn't deserve the attention you're giving her by letting her make you feel bad. That's power that you're choosing to give her. I see how much she rattles you, and it's just… she doesn't deserve to be able to do that to you."
"Maybe not," Annie said slowly, "but that's where we are. She's still my mother. I want to impress her. I don't think I ever have, but I want to. I don't want to cancel dinner, or fake a broken arm or something to get out of it. That's not going to earn her respect."
"You don't need to… okay. Then, different strategy. Monday night you throw a dinner party. Fancy, high-end, Shirley does cooking, Troy and Abed are on best behavior, Pierce wears a nice suit and talks about Eartha Kitt, Britta stays home…"
That got him a brief chuckle and a thawing of Annie's chilly expression.
"Full-court impress-Sadie-Parker press. We get the dean to come, and talk about how you're valedictorian…"
"Greendale doesn't have a valedictorian," Annie pointed out.
He shrugged. "I suspect the dean doesn't know that. Do you know any other classy people willing to endorse and/or lie for you?"
"Just you." Annie stood there, watching him, a relieved sort of smile on her face.
"That's…" Jeff counted on his fingers. "Nine people, counting Britta. Put the leaf in your dining room table and you can seat eight."
Annie shook her head. "The table is Troy's. I don't think we have the leaf."
"No problem, we do it like Shirley did and have two tables. Grab a card table and a tablecloth, so six at the dining room table and room for four at the card table… which of your professors is most likely to gush about how amazing you are? We recruit them."
"I don't know if…"
"Please. They work at Greendale; they'll do it for the free meal. How about the model UN guy, name sounds like Clitoris?" Jeff cocked his head at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Oh, nothing." She played with her hair and glanced down at the floor. "It's just… this right here is more effort than I've seen you make without me prodding you… ever."
"Well, normally you don't give me the chance to act without you prodding me."
Annie crossed her arms, smiling slightly. "I should hold off on it more often, I guess. Thanks."
Jeff had his phone out.
JEFF to ANNIE, TROY, ABED, SHIRLEY, PIERCE, BRITTA, 1114:
Calling a meeting. Six o'clock, my place. This is literally the first meeting I've called in four years so I hope you all realize this must be urgent.
ANNIE to JEFF, TROY, ABED, SHIRLEY, PIERCE, BRITTA, 1115:
Six o'clock! [Sunglasses emoji] [Smiling emoji]
He glanced up.
"They don't need to know I'm here," Annie said, a little defensively. "And if I didn't respond they might wonder what was up, if we'd had a fight or something."
Jeff nodded warily.
ABED to TROY, ANNIE, BRITTA, SHIRLEY, PIERCE, JEFF, 1116:
Ok
ABED to JEFF, 1117:
Is Annie okay? Is she with you?
Jeff considered how to respond. Annie snorted, and held up her phone for Jeff to see.
ABED to ANNIE, 1116:
I thought you stayed at Jeff's last night. Are you okay?
Annie texted Abed back as Jeff sat back down on the couch. "Why six?" she asked.
"One, people may be in the middle of things. It is the biggest shopping day of the year. Two, nothing's happening until Monday, so there's no reason to foment a sense of crisis. Three, I haven't given up hope of keeping you here all day."
She bobbed her head in the embarrassed/pleased way she sometimes did when he complimented her. "Well, thank you, again," Annie said, sitting down next to him. "Although, I've got to tell you, I'm not really a marathoning whole seasons of TV kind of girl."
"That's okay," Jeff said, "I'm sure we can fill the time somehow."