Jeff woke up on Thanksgiving to an angel. Bright sunlight flashed behind her, radiating her white gown, blonde hair, and porcelain skin with a heavenly glow. She rubbed little circles on his back, humming some song that will be out of tune if sung. She smiled. "Good morning. I hope it's okay I'm wearing your shirt."

It was Britta. Sometimes Jeff forgot that she slept over. Sometimes, she'd do cute things like this, especially since he left Greendale.

"More than," Jeff said back. "What were you humming?"

"Teenage Fanclub. Young Adult was on this morning, otherwise, I wouldn't be up." Britta pushed herself off the bed, signaling to Jeff it was probably time to get himself up, too. Catching a glimpse of them in the mirror, Jeff noticed his natural bedhead and how he and Britta wore the same underwear cut. They stood and walked the same way. They looked so domestic. Kinda weird.

"I know," Britta said, as if she read his mind, "a little gross, but natural progression."

"How do you figure?"

"We avoided this conclusion since we've known each other, this type of comfort with someone most of our lives, but it…happened."

"Whatever you say, Perry," Jeff smirked. "I'm taking a shower. Do you need anything?"

"Not in the bathroom. Just clothes."

Still smirking, he added, "Well, you don't need them, per se."

"For your mom, I do."

#

Meanwhile, Shirley Bennett was looking over her much younger, but not quite as attractive, friend. Annie's burnt orange cardigan said "I'm still focused, even without the medicine." Her dress was a dark purple, a contrast to her sweater, to remind everyone she's still young and (mostly) fun. The black tights and shoes were to bring attention to her relative maturity, and a palate balance.

"Are you sure this looks okay?" Annie asked for only the 16th time that day. "I mean, I haven't seen my mom in years, much less the rest of her family."

"Honey, you look lovely," Shirley responded, though she looked only slightly more dressy than she usually did. "I'd be proud to have you as a daughter. If things don't work out today, I'll adopt you."

"Aww, Shirley." Annie leaned in to hug Shirley. "Thank you so much."

Two knocks, and Abed popped in. "Everyone's decent in here, right?"

"I think your order is a little off, Abed," Shirley said.

Troy walked in. "Sorry to come by unannounced, but we want to go over the plan with you, Shirley."

"Oh, right," Annie separated from Shirley, and took a few steps back. "Go on."

"Here's what I had in mind," Abed started, "we drop Shirley off at her house around noon to greet her family for thanksgiving, then drive up to Riverside to take Annie to her mother's house. Troy wanted to show me a few places around town"

"There's a dancing robot!" Troy interrupted.

"-Then we're back to your house. By then, Shirley should've made the rounds. Escape through the hole in your basement to Troy's car, and you'll stay at my mom's. Bring any dish you can. My mom loves everything. We leave at ten to pick up Annie. Unless she wants to bow out early, in which she will take the bus home and text us with the plan change."

Shirley and Annie nodded. "This is shaping out to be a good Thanksgiving," Shirley said, excited to be a part of the plan. She wasn't always, which she accredited to her friendship with Jesus and being older than her friends. Not that she had a poor sense of self; she liked herself, just not the situations at times. It's nice to be on the fun side.

#

Home. Kissing. Hugging. Holding. Eating. Reminiscing. Jeff loved that his mom liked Britta.

"She's a sparkplug," Ms. Fitzpatrick (she switched back to her maiden name) would say. "Sparkplugs never go out unless the environment fails. Keep her safe, Jeffy."

Jeff loved his mom. Not to a creepy degree, but to a level of respect for a single mother with a smartass son would go. She stayed strong, but Jeff developed observance at an early age. Too many tissues in the garbage that weren't his, anxiety pills, bills with more zeroes than at his elementary school lunch table. The apartment they lived in after the divorce was final was smaller than even the basement of the house with his father.

The only thing he could do was try to help, but there aren't many ways a nine-year-old can help his mother, at least none that he knew of. She always told Jeff he was special. He lived up to it. He was the cool lawyer, the handsome-because-puberty high schooler, and the snaky kid in class.

All was done now. Jeff had Britta in his life, true friends, and his mother's approval, especially after he told his dad off. She was satisfied.

So, yeah, his Thanksgiving was a success.

#

Annie came home early from her mom's, telling Abed her uncle was giving her a ride home. Rather, she wanted to walk and think of what happened.

Annie's mom put her on Adderall as a child. She was diagnosed with ADD by a quack, one of those people that gave really ill people a bad name with "hunches." She stayed on them throughout high school, setting her sights on being the coolest girl. Her mom was right there with her, pushing her daughter to higher and higher standards. She was able to take more pills as this went on, but after the meltdown, her mom wanted her daughter to keep striving to perfection.

The downfall of their relationship, Annie realized, was the definitional change of "perfect" in their minds. Annie's mom was okay with using any type of help to reach her own perfection: she wore make-up always, took anti-anxiety meds that she probably actually needed, and asked people to compliment her. Annie wanted no help; she was scared of the crutch. She went to rehab on her own, got a job at Goodwill (free sweaters!), and continued on at Greendale.

At Thanksgiving, Annie realized nearly nothing changed with her mother. Splitting image of herself, her mom wore the same face she always had. Her family acted the same, other than a few extra inches, pounds, and wrinkles. Annie was the same trophy she always felt like in her mother's eyes. She bragged that her daughter was living without her mom's assistance, staying in school, going the money-conscious way, and on the Deans List (which all of her friends were, thanks to Pelton). It was such a trip that she thought her mom would act so much different, but here she was. Back home, standing in front of her mirror, wondering if something went wrong.

Something had. Annie hated everything on her body. She hated the scratchy sweater. She hated the tacky dress. She hated the too-tight bra. She hated the way her tights rubbed against her. She changed out of everything, replacing it with pink pajama pants and Troy's Apple Jacks t-shirt. Now alone, she realized she could never change her mother, but they were on good terms, and that's what mattered.