As always, thanks to bethanyactually and amrywiol for their beta-reading and notes.


SENIOR SEMINAR ON FIDUCIARY DUTY

ACT ONE


" 'A philosopher says the following. Becoming an MBA is a sign of high potential. MBAs have, historically, enjoyed career success. Not all students who seek to become MBAs succeed. Socrates is an MBA. Therefore Socrates enjoyed career success,' " Annie read aloud. " 'Which of the following statements, if true, would most weaken the philosopher's argument?' "

Jeff's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Socrates is an MBA?"

Annie nodded without looking up. "Apparently. 'A. Socrates was awarded his MBA posthumously,' " she continued. " 'B. Career success cannot be measured objectively. C. Diploma mill schools like Greendale award MBAs to anyone that fills out the paperwork…' "

"It doesn't say Greendale." Jeff leaned over. "Does it?"

The two lounged on the couch in Annie, Abed, and Troy's apartment. Jeff had wanted to do LSAT prep at his place, but Annie had pointed out that when they were at his place very little studying tended to get done. In all probability Annie could have studied more effectively without Jeff, but then Jeff wouldn't have been there. Jeff had no plans to take the LSAT, but that hadn't stopped him from taking LSAT Prep I last semester and LSAT Prep II this semester; they were part of the block of classes Greendale required for a BA in Legal Studies, the pre-law major Jeff had eventually settled on.

"It could," Annie grumbled. "Greendale hasn't suddenly stopped being a joke of a school."

Jeff looked at her, frowning. "That doesn't sound like you. Greendale pride, right? If anyone's going to talk about the terrible nature of Greendale, it should be me!"

Annie scoffed. "You just need to graduate and then you get reinstated as a lawyer; it doesn't matter that you're getting your degree from the number one most disreputable college on the state's list of most disreputable colleges, a list that included Diplomas Online Dot Biz University and the Not-a-Scam 'School' of 'Arts' and 'Sciences,' asterisk, 'not a real school,' " she said, making finger-quotes. "Even assuming I score well on the LSAT I'll still have Greendale on my applications."

"If you want to go to law school, you have to take the LSAT," Jeff reminded her. "If you want to go to law school."

She arched her eyebrows. "It's the fastest way to the FBI Academy."

"It's a way to the FBI Academy. It's not the only way." Jeff shook his head slightly. He didn't want to have this discussion again.

"Do you think I couldn't do it?" Annie asked him bluntly. "A bunch of idiots make it through law school and become lawyers. No offense, but you used to work with them."

"Of course you can do it," Jeff said with a snort. "You can do basically anything."

"Aw," she said, looking down at the ground.

"Listen," Jeff said as though he were telling her a little-known secret, "the only reason our economic and political systems are as screwed up as they are, is that you haven't yet turned your mind to fixing them."

She laughed, and for a moment they just grinned at each other like a couple of idiots.

Jeff broke eye contact first. "But I never had much cause to regret not going to law school. It's an expensive piece of paper you'd be breaking your back for three years for."

"Well, not everyone can lie their way into the bar exam." Annie grimaced. "I thought you'd be pleased at the law school idea, you know."

He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. "I support you whatever decision you make, you know that," he said. "You don't think Greendale has been enough of an education?"

"What was I just saying, you goof?" Annie threw up her hands. "I get into law school, suddenly there's something above Greendale on my resume. I don't think anyone anywhere has ever said, 'Ooh, your degree is from Greendale Community College? I hear that's a great school!' It's more like, 'Ooh, your degree is from Greendale Community College? I'm sorry, we want someone a little more qualified for this unpaid internship at the dog food factory.' "

"Dog food factory?" repeated Jeff.

"I don't know! You know what I mean."

"Yeah, okay," Jeff admitted, "but you love Greendale. I'm pretty sure you love Greendale."

"I guess." She sighed. "I almost transferred out several times, you know."

Jeff nodded, then shook his head. "Wait, no. Several times? When? Recently?"

Annie shook her head. "The last time was right before the Old West paintball game. You remember…"

"I remember your outfit," Jeff said wistfully.

"Please." She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. "That was such a frustrating week. I thought you were being a jerk… I mean, everybody was, but mostly you."

"Fair enough," Jeff said, remembering.

"I didn't go through with it, though, and then in the wave of school spirit that escalated into kissing Abed while the library was flooded with paint…"

Jeff sputtered. "Wait, what?"

"…I didn't go through with it, I said." Annie gazed into the middle distance. "I hadn't actually thought about that in, oh, not since it happened."

"Rewind and play back," Jeff said sharply. "You kissed Abed?"

Her smile broadened. "Are you jealous?"

"Kind of, yeah!" His tone suggested he was more than 'kind of' jealous.

"This was almost two years ago," she reminded him. "Earlier that same day you patted me on the head."

"It was barely a year and a half ago, and…" Jeff sighed. "I don't have a leg to stand on, here."

She shook her head. "No, you don't."

"I patted you on the head?"

She snickered a little. "Yes, you did, Vicious comma Sid."

Jeff opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Vicious comma Sid?"

"I was trying a thing and it didn't work. Never mind…" Annie hefted her LSAT prep book and scooted away from him on the couch — somehow she'd ended up all up in his personal space, in the last minute or so. "We should get back to this. I'm taking the exam the day after tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah." Jeff rubbed his eyes. "When will you get out?"

"Three. I'll call you and tell you how it went right after. Then we can meet at… I don't know, we'll figure it out." She shrugged. "And then Morty's Steak House for dinner! You love Morty's Steak House!" Annie smiled at him before turning back to the prep book. "Now, as I was saying. 'Becoming an MBA is a sign of high potential…' "

Jeff nodded, then started. "Wait, no. You distracted me with promises of steak and scurrilous kissing-Abed stories," he said, pointing accusingly at her. "What's with your accurate, but uncharacteristically harsh, assessment of Greendale?"

Annie scowled. "I was looking at the Sturm website," she said, referring to the Sturm School of Law, the closest and most reputable law school in the state. "And entrance requirements and selectivity and… maybe even if I'm the best student at Greendale, which I'm not anyway, technically that honor goes to someone who didn't have to take Biology 301 twice… I just don't know if a degree from Greendale is even worth getting. My mother…"

"Your mother," Jeff interrupted, "is wrong about basically everything."

"Maybe." Annie looked down at the prep book, then back up at Jeff. "I just… I thought I would be okay, you know? When I kicked her out of my life, again. And I knew that… ugh. It's just, getting confirmation that even now, years later, she still thinks I'm…" She trailed off with a heavy sigh.

"Hey." Jeff waited until she looked him in the eyes before continuing. "My Annie is the greatest person I know. You can doubt that, if you want, but I don't. And I'm always right, so it'd be foolish to disagree with me on this one."

"I know. I mean, thank you," Annie replied. "But Mother is still out there, you know? And now she's on the board. She isn't going to just give up, not after putting herself out and making the first move and letting me kick her out after…"

"Hey, hey, hey." Jeff reached over and rubbed her arm. "You got away from her," he said. "You got out, and you've been on your own, and you've done fine, better than fine. There's nothing more she can do to you." Jeff hoped that was true, at least. "It's not like the board has any real power. They let Pierce on, after all."


Noon was as early as the board ever met. In the past they'd held their meetings at the TGIFriday's, usually after eight, always with an open bar courtesy the city of Greendale. Eventually, however, the rest of the board resigned in disgust, leaving just Carl and Richie as two members of a five-seat board. With the addition of Pierce the board was able to pass motions requiring a three-fifths majority.

But Sadie Parker-Edison had upset the apple cart, by calling meetings at her lawyer's office downtown, and by failing to provide gin, bourbon, vodka, tequila, or even beer.

"The AC Repair School at least has mead," grumbled Richie as he looked around the conference room. It gleamed with the efforts of badly-paid custodial staff. A table in the corner held a tray of glasses and a pitcher of ice water, but no scotch to mix with it. The K-Cup machine in an alcove a short distance down the hall could provide coffee, but not Irish coffee. It was, in short, dullsville.

"I know, and I do apologize," Sadie Parker-Edison cooed. "I really couldn't manage any other time or place. You do understand, I hope?" Without waiting for a reply she flicked on a recorder on the table in front of her. "Greendale community college board of trustees, meeting of the sixth of December, 2012. Mercedes Ann Parker-Edison, presiding. Also present are Carl Hoffmann…"

"Here," said Carl, into the recorder.

"You can just speak normally, Carl," Sadie told him. "Richard Abnett?"

"Here."

"And Pierce Hawthorne."

"Present," declared Pierce. He glanced at the fifth attendee of the meeting: the dean, seated to Pierce's right. "As is Craig Pelton."

"Yes, thank you Pierce." Sadie dripped with condescension. "Although the first order of business must, regrettably, be to ask Dean Pelton to leave. This is a closed meeting." She stared at the dean until he cracked and dropped his head down to examine the floor; this did not take long.

"I was told, uh…" the dean mumbled.

"I'll handle this, Craig," Pierce assured him. Pierce had sat in on a lot of board meetings over the years, and wasn't about to let Annie's mother rattle him. "I move that Craig Pelton be appointed to fill the vacant seat on the board."

"Second," said Carl, raising a hand.

Sadie folded her hands on the table in front of her. "I'm afraid I can't discuss this while Mr. Pelton is present, for the obvious reasons."

"Oh, come on," complained Pierce.

"No, no, she's right," mumbled the dean. He stood and bowed slightly towards Sadie before retreating out the conference room door.

"Don't go far!" Pierce called after him.

"Well now," said Sadie, smiling. "I have to say this suggestion takes me somewhat by surprise. Is Mr. Pelton not already sufficiently challenged by his current responsibilities?"

"The board is still short a member," Pierce countered. "He's certainly qualified and the duties of the board take up only a few hours a month, as you know."

"He may be qualified," Sadie conceded. "I really couldn't say one way or the other. However I do question the notion that he's the best-qualified candidate available." Her tone softened with concern. "Likewise it seems at least possible that he would suffer a conflict of interest on a variety of relevant issues, from administrative pay to interactions with the teacher's union…"

"There isn't a teacher's union at Greendale," snapped Pierce.

"Currently, no," Sadie agreed with palpable relief. "That would doubtless be extremely disruptive to the learning process. Disputes between labor and management could have a negative impact on the education of those currently enrolled at Greendale. As one of our most prominent alums, I would think this would concern you, as well. I know Hawthorne Paper Products secured several extremely favorable union contracts under your auspices."

"That's not relevant in the slightest." She's trying to rattle you, Pierce reminded himself. She wants you to lose your temper and say something stupid. This is just like the bidding for the Atlanta Olympics paper-towel contract. "Let's stick to the subject at hand."

"Of course," Sadie crooned, smiling at him. It was not a smile Pierce found comforting; when she smiled like that she resembled her daughter even more strongly than usual. "As you say, the board is currently potentially deadlocked, with four voting members. I propose the formation of a subcommittee to recruit a civic leader willing to donate his or her time, one who will not risk any exposure to conflicts of interest."

"Second," said Carl.

"We don't need to be so formal, Carl," Sadie assured him. "The quicker we get this done the quicker we can all be getting lunch in the brew pub across the street."

"Fine," said Pierce. "I volunteer to head up this subcommittee, and as the head of the subcommittee I report that Craig Pelton is a fine choice whose only conflicts of interest would stem from issues the board hasn't considered in the last ten years at least, and I nominate him to fill the empty seat."

"Second," said Carl.

Sadie said nothing for a moment. "Richard? Richie?" she asked the other board member.

"Huh?" he started, as though woken from sleep. "Sorry, I was just thinking about… a brew pub, huh?"

"Right across the street, yes," Sadie said. She reached over and covered one of Richie's hands with her own. "Soon, I promise," she told him solemnly.

"This is boring," complained Carl. "Can't we just vote already?"

Sadie chuckled like a mother indulging her favorite son. "I can see we aren't going to be spending a lot of time debating this," she said. "All right, all right. Let's vote on it. I vote yes. Pierce?"

Pierce blinked. "You vote yes?"

Sadie nodded.

"Yes, Craig should join the board?"

She nodded again.

"I vote yes, too," Pierce said, suddenly fearful.

"Carl? Richie?" Sadie asked, without breaking eye contact with Pierce.

"Yes," the two men said in unison.

"It's unanimous then," Sadie said cheerfully. She smiled warmly at Pierce. "As of the end of this meeting, Dean Pelton is on the board. Would you like to go tell him? We can take a brief break." She leaned forward and clicked the recorder off.

"Sure…" Pierce rose carefully from this chair and backed out of the room, unwilling to turn his back on Sadie Parker-Edison. She's in your head! he upbraided himself. Keep cool, Pierce!

The dean was in a small waiting room at the end of the hall, reading a magazine. He looked up as Pierce entered. "Over so quickly?"

Pierce shook his head. "No… you've been elected to the board. Congratulations."

"Thank you!" the dean said sunnily, but then his face fell. "You don't seem very pleased about it. This was your idea, Pierce. The two of us against her, you said. For Annie, you said."

"I know," Pierce said. He glanced over his shoulder at the conference room. "I just… I don't know."

"Well, should I go home and change?" asked the dean.

Pierce looked at him. "What would you… never mind. No, it's not effective until the next meeting. Which is scheduled for January… I'm going to go back in there," he decided. "Wait here."

"Okay!" The dean called, as Pierce dashed back towards the conference room. He checked his bag. "You know, I could just change here," he mused.


Sadie Parker-Edison waited until she was alone in the conference room before taking a moment to collect herself. He was infuriating, this handsome idiot her daughter had latched onto as a father figure. He refused to just let her take care of things, like the other two idiots; he kept sticking his oar in. Usually men didn't like to make fools of themselves in front of her, but Pierce Hawthorne was fearless in the worst way. He argued with her, as though he didn't care about exposing his wrong opinions and erroneous beliefs. He refused to kowtow to her superior knowledge of procedure, and he insisted on bulling his way through her plans.

Fortunately she'd thought of a way to neutralize Pierce's imp Pelton. It wasn't going to be cheap or simple, but nothing worth doing was. Sadie Parker-Edison hadn't invested this much time in taking control of the Greendale Community College board only to surrender at the first sign of resistance. And if Pierce couldn't be bullied or intimidated, well, there were other ways to handle men.

When Pierce returned to the room a few moments later he found Sadie there, alone, seemingly engaged in a phone call. She held up one finger as he opened his mouth to question her.

"No," she told the phone, as though the other end were some estranged relation, rather than the speaking clock. "No, I don't care. That's not my problem… then you should have thought of that. It's not my fault if you insist on making things harder for yourself… no."

Sadie made eye contact with Pierce and rolled her eyes with a theatrical sigh.

"I accept your apology," she said a moment later. "Yes, of course. I'll see you then. Good-bye." She hung up with a sad little sigh. "Do you have children?" she asked Pierce, despite knowing full well he did not.

"Was that Annie?" Pierce asked despite himself.

Sadie looked nonplussed. "What? No. My daughter and only child is not, regrettably, currently returning my calls. Do you have children yourself, Pierce?" she asked again. According to her dossier, he did have a handful of step-children, at least one of which he felt some parental affection for.

Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Only step-children. Ex-step-children… where are Carl and Richie?"

Outwardly, Sadie remained placid, but inwardly she cursed the man's stubborn refusal to let her take control of the conversation. She tutted as she turned the recorder back on. "They just couldn't sit still. Like children, really. Said something about the bar and grill across the street. I couldn't keep them here a moment longer." She smiled helplessly, as though a silly woman like herself couldn't possibly be expected to keep up with clever men like Pierce and his kind.

"Uh huh." Pierce slowly sat down, maintaining eye contact with Sadie as he did so. Was that a flicker of interest she saw?

(For his part, Pierce wasn't sure what Sadie was playing at; was she going to come at him with a knife? Attempt erotic persuasion? Play on his sympathies by claiming to be an aggrieved parent suffering the sharper tooth of Annie's rejection? Of those possibilities he would definitely have preferred erotic persuasion. Maybe Edison women liked older men, he thought with some hope.)

"But I did get their signatures on these." Sadie pulled a pair of packets from her briefcase and spread them on the table in front of Pierce. Buffy had drawn them up for her the night before, when Sadie's plan had been to drive all three of the men off the board, but things had taken a different turn. "Proxy statements, authorizing me to cast votes on their behalf."

"Oh," said Pierce, visibly disappointed. Whether it was because of the proxies or because she'd stopped making bedroom eyes at him, Sadie couldn't say. The latter would have been more convenient, but if wishful thinking accomplished anything than Sadie wouldn't have wasted her youth. It was too late for Sadie, but not for her daughter, not if Sadie could save her from herself.

She and Pierce looked at one another for a moment, and then he did a double take, which was very encouraging. "Wait, what?" Pierce picked up one of the packets and peered at the dense jargon. "These can't possibly be binding," he declared. "If board members could be enticed to sign away their voting powers someone would have tried it on me back at Hawthorne Paper Products."

The man was a bulldog. Sadie almost admired his tenacity. Calling on years of practice, she covered her frustration with condescension. "I know, I know," she said indulgently. "Corporate governance rules, blah blah blah." She made a face, as though she were a kindergarten teacher explaining to her class about lima beans or brussels sprouts. "But the Greendale board bylaws were modified earlier this year, it turns out, so that you could be appointed to the board without a quorum of board members approving. Since a quorum wasn't possible when only two of the five seats were filled?"

"Yes," Pierce said slowly. "But board votes can't be proxied; changing the rules to allow me to join wouldn't change that…"

"I hate to disagree, Pierce." Sadie smiled as he finally blinked, rattled by her confidence. There was one other avenue of attack open. "Whoever revised the Greendale board rules was extremely sloppy. I suppose that's what you get when you let a disbarred amateur slobber drunkenly on your charter documents."

"Hey!" Pierce bristled. "Firstly, Jeff had nothing to do with…"

Damn, she thought, apparently despite all their differences he'll still defend the man when push comes to shove. Stupid loyal stubborn handsome generous idiot. It didn't matter, though. "Of course." Sadie raised her hands and moved in for the kill. "Now, currently we lack a quorum of members, since you and I are only two-fifths of the board. We'll have to take this up tomorrow. This is your required twenty-four hour notice of an unscheduled board meeting. I do hope you and Mr. Pelton can both attend; we have a great deal to discuss."

Pierce sighed, and considered. Sadie could guess as to his thought process. The dean would be a full voting member of the board as of the next meeting. Pierce's plan, such as it was, had been for the two of them to form a two-person bloc that could wheedle at least one of Carl or Richie, if not both, into voting against anything Sadie proposed. Not that Sadie had actually proposed anything yet, true, but no doubt her daughter had convinced Pierce that Sadie's goals were the destruction of all that was good in the world.

They both knew that with the voting proxies she now had, Sadie effectively cast three votes to Pierce and the dean's two; enough to ram through whatever policy changes she wanted.

His only hope, Pierce realized, lay in finding Carl and Richie and getting them to rescind their proxy statements. The bar across the street, she'd said… "Excuse me," Pierce said suddenly, and bolted from the room.

"See you tomorrow, Pierce," Sadie called after him. "You handsome idiot," she muttered. "It would have been so much simpler if you'd just let me take care of everything."

The side door connecting the conference room directly to Buffy's office opened. "Hey, did I hear Pierce in here?" Carl asked from the doorway. In his hand was a glass of bourbon from Sadie's lawyer's private supply. "Pierce? Come in and join the party!" Carl glanced around the room.

Sadie shook her head, feigning confusion. "I haven't seen him," she said. "If he doesn't come back we won't be able to finish the meeting."

"Who cares?" Carl turned and signaled to Richie behind him.

Sadie laughed politely, then sobered. "Unfortunately there are still a few dreary items of boring, boring board business," she said sadly. "We'll have to have another meeting tomorrow. Consider this your official notice."

"Aw, man," said Richie. "I don't want to go to another one of these stupid meetings! Tomorrow's the Varsity Match."

"And you have plane tickets to Florida for two weeks at Disney World, leaving tonight," Sadie reminded him. Buying them at the last minute hadn't been cheap, but Sadie would spare no expense where her daughter's future was concerned. Getting rid of interfering idiots was essential. "You remember, the prizes you won for being the ten thousandth visitor to this law office?"

"Oh yeah." Carl nodded. "Say, how is it that Richie and I are both the ten thousandth visitor?"

"Photo finish," Sadie told him.

"Uh…"

"Duh, Carl," Richie told him. "Pay attention, dude."

"So, just to clarify…" Sadie eyed the digital recorder on the table, still making a record of the meeting. "The two of you have been duly informed of the meeting tomorrow, but you don't plan to attend? Which is fine, of course, that's why you signed those proxy statements."

Carl and Richie exchanged glances. "Yeah."

"Okay, great." Sadie nodded, giving no hint of the storm of frustration and anxiety raging inside her. "Well, you should go, if you want to make your flight. I've already had a cab called for you to take to the airport… have one for the road before you go, though, if you like."

"Awesome!" Carl turned back towards the bourbon in the room next door, and let the connecting door swing shut.

Sadie sat alone in the conference room for a few moments, calming herself down, before reaching over and turning off the recorder. She'd taken a lorazepam before the meeting, but it wasn't doing the trick. She dialed the office next door.

"Hello, Buffy?" she said when her attorney answered. "Yes, I'm still in the next room. Be a dear and tell the two men you're getting drunk that they don't allow cell phones in Florida, would you? I don't know, terrorist threats. Just be sure they don't have their phones before they get in the cab… Wonderful, thank you so much."

No, the lorazepam definitely wasn't doing it for her, she decided, and took an alprazolam, too.


Annie's first clue something was wrong was the skunk smell.

She arrived at the LSAT testing site almost a half an hour before the exam was scheduled. The DU Law campus wasn't hard to find, but just to be on the safe side she'd scouted it out the week before, determining the best place to park and checking travel time in normal traffic. Everything was going according to plan, up until she got out of her car and noticed the smell. Someone had hit a skunk, maybe?

The building doors were blocked by yellow police tape, and she didn't see any lights on inside. The smell seemed to be coming from within the building — a skunk had somehow gotten into the building? She tried the door just in case, front first, then the two sets of side doors. No way in, no lights on, no one else around. There were some suspicious scraps of paper taped to the doors, as though someone had taped up signs and someone else had come along and torn them down, but that didn't give her any useful information.

Annie checked the time. The LSAT was supposed to begin in fifteen minutes. She tried calling the number on the website, which meant navigating a bunch of menu options and eventually inputting her LSAT registration number, which she had to stop and pull from her email. Eventually she reached a human being, and in a brief conversation learned several new facts, of which three were particularly germane.

1. The LSAT thought her phone number was off by one digit, which was why she hadn't gotten any of the messages they'd sent her.

2. The messages explained that the night before vandals had set off stink and paint bombs inside the DU Law building where the LSAT was normally given.

3. The exam had been moved to an alternate location, on the City College campus.

With mounting panic she leaped into her car and sped across town, shouting curses at every red light and rolling through each stop sign. The City College visitor's lot was full, of course, so she circled around for minutes in vain before finally giving up and parking in front of a fire hydrant. Her escalating invective proved to be for naught, as she reached the site of the moved LSAT exam almost five minutes after the text was scheduled to begin. LSAT regulations strictly prohibited admitting test-takers after the exam began. There would be no LSAT for Annie on this day.

Also her car was not just ticketed, but towed.

Ten minutes later Annie sat alone at a table in a coffee shop near City College, trying to compose herself enough to call Jeff. If she had to be the idiot who managed to screw up being at the right place at the right time to be allowed to take a test, she at least didn't want to be the idiot who broke down crying when she called her boyfriend to come get her because she'd parked in front of a fire hydrant and had her car towed.

This isn't your fault, part of her insisted. This is Mother, it has to be. Mother did this somehow. Mother planted stinkbombs and paintbombs at the testing site. Mother altered the LSAT registration records so you wouldn't get the messages about it. Mother had your car towed

Blinking back tears, Annie tried to decide whether she would be happier in a world where her mother was both malevolent enough and possessed of sufficient supernatural power to hex her like this, or in a world where random bad luck could so effectively sabotage her only chance to take the LSAT before law school application deadlines.

It had to be bad luck. If Annie's mother had somehow masterminded this, she would have called to gloat, or sent a snide letter, or something. She wouldn't be content to just keep her distance, no, she'd have to rub Annie's nose in it somehow…

"Darling, is that you? Darling!"

Annie jumped, and looked around the coffee shop wildly. For a moment she thought, hoped, that she'd imagined the voice. No such luck.

"You look positively bedraggled," Sadie Parker-Edison said, her voice lush with concern. She sat down in a chair opposite Annie. "What are you doing here? Tell Momma all about it."

END ACT ONE