Jeff spent the majority of the night glaring grudgingly at his phone out of the corner of his eye, where it lay on his coffee table, darkened by prolonged inactivity. 'Three years;' no coherent thought filled his head beyond that preface.

He had thought with the memorial merely a month away, he might have to encounter Annie again, but he had expected some forewarning, anything to prepare him for the presence that had been lacking from his life. Try as he might, he couldn't soften the offense he felt at her nerve to suddenly turn up, without the slightest hint of guilt muddying her expression. No texts, no calls, no emails. What else could he have done at the sight of her; something he had taught himself to stop wishing for; something he had forced himself to move beyond.

At half past 9:00, his phone finally buzzed.

Cheryl's smiling contact photo popped up and for the first time, Jeff ignored the call. She didn't deserve to speak to the livid wreck that he could feel himself souring into. He felt drenched in guilt the moment the phone was quiet again, yet he couldn't help but justify his need to ignore the call. In the course of a few hours, three years of his life felt simultaneously frighteningly foreign and blatantly solidified in his thoughts. What the hell had happened to him?

His eyes strayed to his old, more than half-empty, desk bottle of Scotch, now insignificantly relocated to his counter beside the few other spirits he always kept for company. He remembered the day he had forced himself to retrieve it from his work nearly a year prior.

He hadn't pulled a Duncan from their early years at Greendale; it had been a much subtler and steadier decline than that. Two fingers of that amber liquor every lecture, at least. In his own warped thoughts, he had convinced himself that he was beyond fine, he was entirely in control. All it had truly brought him was a cavalcade of cruel reminders and commiserations of his desperation to drown his hurt.

That day, nothing had happened, there was no true inciting incident and yet his need for liquid distraction had prodded at him stronger than he could handle. His final class for the day had ended and he knew that Frankie was off campus for undisclosed 'personal reasons'. His office's second desk still remained vacant, and he treated it as such. Even now, he couldn't recall how many drinks he had slugged down. The bottle had been full before he sat down to drink; in fact, one of the few things he could remember with crystal clarity was the cracking sound of the lid as he opened it.

He woke up several hours later, the sleeve of his shirt nearly dried from when he had apparently tipped over what he could only guess was an untouched glass, judging from the size of the stain that still bluntly adorned his desk. His head throbbed and for the first time in years, he felt fear for, possibly even of himself.

It had been two years of him steadily soaking himself in scotch; not socially, not even for the taste. In that moment, he finally dared to ask a few questions he had been avoiding. What had happened to him? What would he continue to do to provide himself a reprieve from unwelcome thoughts? What kind of harm was he truly capable of?

In truth, at that point, drinking hadn't been enjoyable for a long time. He finally acknowledged the second the switch had been flipped. Annie's 'supposedly' permanent departure from Greendale and his life, was the hardest adjustment he'd ever had to swallow. Drinking had helped numb him when the frustration and hurt was at its worst, but then something alarming happened. He began to rely on it to get through the day, sometimes even to get through the hour; it had reminded him of the days when Jeffrey Winger, Conman/'Lawyer' couldn't comprehend the need for escape from feelings.

Those kinds of emotions, to that version of cynical, younger version of himself, were rooted in reality much like the legend of Bigfoot. He knew some people claimed, believed entirely in its existence and to those he might roll his eyes, but find no need to argue against their statement; it was a functioning, albeit naïve impairment; fine for some, but beyond baffling for him.

He had been trying to become that guy again, but he had realized in that moment that he couldn't. There was no unliving his experiences and as hard as it was for him to admit, he didn't want to, even the most painful.

He had cleaned up his mess and spent the next few hours walking around the quiet campus, evaluating his life, and figuring out how to force himself from the debilitating rut he had fallen into. He took what was left of the bottle home and set it on his counter, where it still remained untouched.

He didn't drink for nearly six months afterwards, not even a drop. Jeff couldn't tell his friends what had happened, so he stayed quiet about it. There was always a reason at the ready for him to reason his declination for a drink. Once he realized that he no longer needed or ached for the escape, he became comfortable with the idea of no longer actively enforcing his self-imposed prohibition. It took him two more months before he trusted himself enough to have one. Even then, he relied on certain rules to keep him from losing control again.

He remembered the drink he had earlier that day. It was the first time he had drank alone in a year. He wasn't necessarily threatened by the realization, not because he could easily argue that Britta's presence at her work technically meant he wasn't 'alone'; it hadn't been for escape or an attempt to medicate his emotions, just a familiar burn in his throat as he ruminated on what Annie's return meant.

Hours later and he still didn't know.

Britta had kept Annie's bed. She smiled upon entering her old room. Though it wasn't meant to be her long-term home, she couldn't help but take comfort from the visual of a familiar resting place. So much had been changed about her previous residence, even the room looked vastly different, but it felt as if this bed had been preserved especially for her. She wondered if she was reading into the gesture to keep a spare bedroom furnished.

She quickly dressed for bed. Staring at her still packed suitcase, she sighed deeply, feeling her three glasses of wine and the tension from jetlag upon touchdown earlier that day weigh down on her shoulders, as her body pleaded to prioritize sleep, just this once. She sat at the head of the bed, searching through her purse for aspirin. With a gulp from her water bottle and a throwback of her knotted neck, Annie prayed her preventative care could stop a hangover the next morning. It would be a daunting and long day. She looked at the suitcase again, knowing what she needed to do.

She wearily breathed and out of nowhere remembered the way Jeff had looked at her a few hours before. She deserved it, Annie couldn't deny that, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. Shrinking inside herself, she felt like a fool; not even twenty-four hours back and it all felt in vain, like sublime karmic justice had been thrust upon her.

He might as well have been looking through her, as if there was nothing solid or recognizable about her appearance, like she was a stranger. Annie fought off the desire to pity herself. It didn't matter that it felt like there was aching cavity in her chest; she had to experience the consequences of her actions, but she just had never expected them be so potent.

After setting her alarm, she grabbed the bottle and gulped sluggishly as she side-eyed her suitcase. She shook her head and decided that with how she felt and the day she had, she could justify a rare spout of laziness. All she wanted was sleep.

Jeff finished brushing his teeth and sighed as his phone lit up with Britta's unsmiling face. "What?" He put the phone on speaker as he cleaned up the toiletries that were part of his morning routine, before walking to his closet.

"I need you to pick me up. I have an appointment with a client-"

"Student."

"Shut it." She irritably huffed. "Anyways, I have to go pick up my car and I'd like to do it before work."

"Would it actually kill you to form your sentence like a request? Or God forbid say please." He buttoned up his shirt.

"C'mon Winger. Can you help me out?"

He waited for a moment and then rolled his eyes when he realized she wasn't desperate enough to utter the 'p' word. "Fine. I'm leaving in 10 minutes."

"Don't worry, we're ready."

"We?" Internally he sighed as his jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I convinced Annie that she should hangout and you know, visit the stomping grounds for a bit and then we were going to have lunch later today."

There was only one way to accept the information, so he refused to argue. "Okay. Be there in less than 20."

Jeff could feel his foot just barely slinking off the gas as he rounded the corner to Britta's apartment. He hoped work would be safe today. A whole night of particularly sobering contemplation had provided him with no clarity on how to react to her return. He parked and looked in his visor mirror. The whites of his eyes were muddled, and he tried not to be bothered by it; aimlessly tweaking his hair, he realized that he wasn't paying attention to his appearance, merely putting his restless hands to work, forcing himself to stall texting Britta. He needed another moment.

Unfortunately, the decision was made for him as he watched Britta and Annie march out of the apartment entrance. Breathing deeply, he stifled nameless feelings and tried to imagine what being normal might sound and look like. Britta took the front seat, and he exhaled with quiet relief.

Jeff felt ridiculous for his amateur mistake when his eyes met Annie's through the rearview mirror. Quickly looking away, he was thankful that Britta took the lead in the conversation, catching him up on a few of the things the two of them had discussed the night before. He could vaguely hear some of the topics his friend touched on, mainly Annie's seemingly permanent transfer, Pierce's upcoming memorial and something to do with the group and The Vatican.

It was background noise, like static meant to pass in one ear and out the next, while Annie Edison sat in the backseat of his car; like she had before and as he never thought she would again.

It was infuriating, the tug he felt in the back of his head, this indescribable desire to turn around and look at her. And he wanted to, even the jaded and stubborn Jeff could admit as much, but he wasn't sure he could handle having her look back at him.

The rearview mirror haunted him. Once or twice, but definitely no more than six times did he let his eyes stray to glance at her. It was a relief that she happened to be more distracted with the passing street view outside the window, her head turned firmly away. She was wearing a blue silk blouse that seemed to emulate the color of her eyes and a strained posture that nudged at the likeliness that she was lost in thought.

Jeff aimlessly followed Britta's barked directions to her mechanic's shop. He was thankful to see it was on the way to Greendale, less than a five-minute drive away. He pulled into the parking lot as Britta erratically buzzed. "Be back really quick."

Jeff's internal, unuttered sigh was a heavy weight on his lungs. He chanced a look back at Annie as Britta exited the car. His stomach tensed as he realized that, given their last interaction, the burden was on him to begin their first real exchange. He'd imagined what he might say to her should he see her again and somehow; he couldn't think of a single thing.

What was the likelihood that he even still knew this Annie? How much could a person change in three years; then again, how much had he?

He was still looking at her, dumbfounded and speechless when she finally glanced his way; sunlight fell across one side of her face with the action and he knew, even illuminated in a new light, this was still Annie; it should be effortless.

"So," He began without thinking how he might continue. He knew work was the only safe topic to appropriately broach. "The FBI sending you here was a pretty big promotion?"

The glazed expression left her eyes. "Yeah, they were looking to bring in a fresh face into the Denver office, so they sent me."

"They must depend on you a lot to give you that kind of responsibility so soon."

She nodded and smiled. "I'd like to think I earned it." There was no hostility in her tone, only transparent pride.

"I have no doubt." He replied simply as an infuriated Britta burst into the passenger seat.

"I swear, this guy is garbage at communication."

"It's not ready?" He guessed.

"He said he was waiting on the part. It was supposed to get here right after they opened, but the guy was late and they're just now starting on the actual labor."

"So, to Greendale?" Jeff offered.

"I don't want to be late for my appointment, so I guess." She huffed in frustration as Jeff pulled back out onto the road.

"Did he give you a time estimate?"

"He said it'd be a couple of hours."

"I have a guest lecturer during my second class. Call him and see if it's done then and I can take you."

"Thanks." She turned in her seat to look at Annie. "If not, how do you feel about cafeteria food for lunch?"

"Sounds familiar." She replied with a soft grin.

"But not appetizing." Jeff finished.

"That goes without saying." Britta interjected with a grimace, thoroughly burnt out on having the same cafeteria options for the past decade.

Jeff pulled into his usual parking spot, looking at his watch. "I'll head to the office around 11."

"Works for me."

Jeff split from the two, waving awkwardly before hurriedly heading to class.

He didn't leave his classroom during his 15-minute break between classes, not even to greet his old co-worker and friend Mark, who he had been able to persuade into giving an enlightening lecture to his class. A small piece of Jeff tensed at the thought of running into Annie in some hallway, just like he had for years.

Mark was in a good mood thanks to a recent and very lucrative victory. His enthusiasm to teach was almost infectious and Jeff no longer felt guilty for needing to slip away, so he quickly briefed his friend. Once his class began, Jeff introduced Mark and immediately excused himself.

The office was quiet as Jeff approached Rhonda having noticed Britta's shut door beside the older office assistant. "Did she take on another appointment?" He nudged his head towards the door.

"Never finished her first." She answered apathetically, reading a magazine.

"What?" His eyes widened in surprise. "Can you page her?"

She scoffed without looking up and leaned over the countertop before knocking on the door.

A moment later Britta popped out and Jeff approached sneakily, peeking his head in. He was pushed away without hesitation. "How are you still in there?"

"I don't know." She shrugged with a grin. "We've just hit a breakthrough."

"So, you're done?" He emphatically asked.

She rolled her eyes impatiently at him. "Hardly, we're not even halfway through grade school."

"You know, I've begun to suspect as much." He joked and she scowled at him. "What about your car?"

She sighed. "He called a half an hour ago and said it was ready."

"Well, that's great and all but I can't exactly drive both cars back by myself."

"Get Annie, idiot." She barked back.

"What?"

"She'll drive my car back."

His stomach squirmed as he grasped at straws. "She's busy."

"Reminiscing." She scoffed. "Annie will jump at the chance to do something. You know 'synergy'." The blonde smirked with snark. "Just call her."

"I doubt that I still have the right number." He bit back.

Britta's brow lifted as she tried to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Easy Winger, that almost sounded bitter." He scowled back at her while she fished through her pocket. She pulled out a paper check and handed it to him. Tossing her keychain at Jeff – who reluctantly caught it – Britta gave him a tight antagonistic grin. "Thanks so much."

"Yeah, have fun with Star-Burns." He irritably huffed.

"His name is Alex." She proudly defended. "Alex Osbourne."

"Wow, what about your patient's anonymity? I'm surprised at you, Britta." He walked away, hearing his friend huff frustratedly as she shut her door.

He looked over at Rhonda. "Who scheduled the counseling session?" He knowingly asked.

"The Dean." She looked at the list in front of her as she read. "Header: Assessment for Academic Suspension."

At first, Jeff wanted to feel bad for his gullible friend being taken for a ride from a career student, no doubt desperate to plead a 'sympathetic' case to stay at Greendale. His own sympathy for her quickly dispersed as he recalled the awkward predicament she had just forced him into. He stalked off in the only direction he could think of to search.

He entered the library and was greeted by the back of Annie's head as she sat looking inside the study room. Approaching slowly, Jeff soon was able to peek at her pensive expression. He sighed. "Hey," She swiftly turned at the sound of his voice. "So, it looks like Britta's still in her 'session'." The air quotes were transparent in his tone. "She was hoping you might drive her car back."

Annie nodded and a glaze fell from her eyes. "Yeah, what time is it?" She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened as she stood.

"Lost track of time?" He inquired.

She sheepishly grinned. "I didn't mean to; it's just…" She gestured at the room in front of them. "Coming home." She laughed lightly, bashfully looking down. "It's weird seeing other groups in there."

He nodded. "It is just a study room."

"No, it's not." She gently argued.

"No," He smiled, immediately conceding. "It isn't."

Reluctantly, she turned away. "So, Britta's still in her first session?"

"Yeah, I think Star-Burns is trying to con her with at least a fractionally fabricated sob story to stay in school."

They fell into a familiar pace as they headed to his car. "Same old Jeff, only seeing the best in people." She teased.

"I see what I see and make an informed decision from that."

Annie nodded curtly, her posture tightening just the slightest, more than enough for Jeff's overly observant eye to catch. "I hope that method never fails you."

"It already has." Their eyes met before he quickly got into his car.

Annie exhaled briefly and then joined him.

Jeff felt himself cruelly pulled into the same dilemma from earlier that morning. Again, he knew he had left the tone between them to sour, unintentionally pushing himself back into a position of guilt, yet what was there to do, what was the right thing to say? He inwardly sighed. "Sorry for my abrupt departure yesterday."

Annie shrugged gently without looking his way. "You're fine. I showed up out of nowhere and Britta figured you were running late to meet with Cheryl."

Jeff's internal thought process came to a screeching halt at the sound of Annie's voice saying his girlfriend's name. He nodded. "Yeah, we wanted to get together for a meal yesterday." He justified the awkward statement by its technical truth.

"I can't wait to meet her tonight!" She turned and smiled his way.

"Tonight?" He risked a glance back at her soft expression.

She rolled her eyes in the most familiar way, and he couldn't fight away his own smirk. "You really don't listen. Britta was talking about it this morning. Vatican. The group."

"Right." He quickly started the car and made sure to give the task his full attention. "I doubt they all expected the reunions to begin so early."

"Yeah, Britta told me about the memorial." She shook her head softly, a sweet sadness filling her voice. "I can't believe it's been five years."

Jeff watched the road and replied with a solemn nod. "The beginning of the end." Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see her watching him.

"I guess that's true." There was an airiness in her tone, that made Jeff's chest almost ache. "Even though we held on for a long time, once we lost Pierce, everything changed."

"I always wondered what he did after we graduated. I mean, he was a career student. What did saying goodbye to Greendale do to him?" He remarked with a baffled shake of his head. "We should've kept in better touch. He's why I wanted to save that place."

"Ah." She nodded as a gentle humor filled her voice. "The hologram."

"Yes, Annie. The hologram." Jeff defended. "Abed said he believes me."

"That statement doesn't make your own any more credible." She teased, exhaling with a nostalgic expression. "It was a hard time; we all were so busy trying to find our way. Your practice, Britta self-sabotaging herself from her own interests, Shirley and Andre splitting up again, me selling out to my greatest nightmare. Troy and Abed…." She thought for a moment. "Actually, they seemed to be doing pretty well, but still. When you don't see your friends every day, it's hard to stay close."

"Something we all know too well." He couldn't stop himself.

Annie nodded and it was quiet for a moment. Just when Jeff began to silently berate himself for his tendency to search for any chance to lay guilt, she spoke steadily with a muted shyness that made him keenly hone his ears solely to the sound of her voice. "You know you're not him?"

He chanced a look at her. "What?"

"What you said about Pierce leaving Greendale. You're not him. That wouldn't happen to you."

"What makes you so sure?" He kept his head straight, noticing Britta's mechanic's shop up ahead.

It was quiet as her expression became pensive. "Because you never stopped seeing yourself in him." She sighed. "As much as I miss him, I think we both can acknowledge that he never tried to grow and whenever he did, it was always on accident."

"That's how I was."

"Yeah." She nodded and he couldn't help but think he deserved it. "That is how you were, how you used to be. I think you looked at him and realized what your future could've been. I don't think he was capable of that kind of brutally honest self-reflection."

Jeff couldn't help but notice the compliment in her explanation. He felt smaller than 2 centimeters. Here she was acknowledging his growth, while he couldn't bite his tongue long enough to silence petty jabs at her. It didn't have to be like that. Nothing made sense anymore and Annie was back in his life all over again and even if he wasn't sure how to feel, he didn't have to make it tense for them both. It had been silent between them for too long. "Thanks." He said as he parked. "I used to wonder."

"And worry, no doubt." She said with a plush humor coating her voice.

"I wasn't worried." He argued.

"That worry-line on your forehead might suggest otherwise." She playfully pointed.

"Hey, I work at Greendale, I have more than one thing to give me worry-wrinkles."

"How? You have total and complete job security."

"Hardly."

"The Dean is your boss." She gave him a knowing look. "In what alternate reality is your position threatened?"

"Stop trying to jinx me." He glared back at her.

"I'm sorry." She held her hands up in mock surrender, before opening one of her palms. "Keys."

"Right." He shook his head, having forgotten where they were for a moment. Pulling the keys and Britta's check from his pocket, he maneuvered the motion as best he could to refrain from lingering. Her soft fingers barely grazed against his palm, and he tried not to drown in her scent with such close proximity.

She gently smiled. "Thanks." Quickly, she made her way out, much to his relief.

Jeff watched Annie as she walked into the shop. For a moment he was hit with a pungent punch of anger at the reminder that he was still inarguably susceptible to her charm. He wondered if that was all it was.

Within a couple of minutes Annie pulled out in Britta's car and gave him a thumbs up to depart as she pulled beside a garbage can. She briskly got out with a handful of trash and Jeff smirked to himself at her unwavering habits. That thought forced him to put his own car into drive and pull away without another look back. He couldn't help but think the night was bound to be interesting, merely at the understanding that his past would be colliding with his present.