Abed Nadir wasn't really sure where he was going until he'd arrived.

He stared up at the modest looking brick building in the middle of downtown Greendale from his parked car, his eyes unblinking, his mind a chaotic storm swirling with conflicting emotions and anxieties. He'd left his apartment early that morning and just driven, putting as much distance between him and that place, and the person inside it, as he could. His journey had been aimless at first, but eventually he found himself making his way to this building. Abed had only been here once before, right after it had opened, when he and Troy had been given the grand tour by its proud new owner. That'd been… almost a year ago now. He took a deep breath, shut off his engine, and made his way to the front door.

On it was a plate that read: "B. PERRY, CLINICAL THERAPIST."

Abed entered through it into a small waiting room. A row of wooden chairs lined one wall, above which was a painting of an idyllic country scene. He didn't pay it much mind. On the opposite wall was a black and white photograph of three daisies in a simple glass vase, framed against a dark window with only a sliver of light peaking through in the far corner. Abed stared at the photo for a while, his eyes fixed on the middle daisy. It seemed to him as it if was stretching, pulling itself as hard as it could towards the sunlight. It seemed to quiet his mind, somehow.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of a woman clearing her voice. His head snapped to the corner of the room, where an older woman (Abed guessed that she was in her mid-50s) was sitting at a desk. The receptionist, he realized. He didn't recognize her, but that was not unusual for him.

"Can I help you?" she asked. The question was asked warmly, and she seemed unfazed by the fact that a strange man had just spent the last five minutes ignoring her in favor of a picture, but she was probably used to odd behavior, considering where she worked.

"Yes, I'm sorry…" Abed looked at the nameplate on the woman's desk, "…Carol. Is Ms. Perry in? I don't have an appointment, but I'm an old friend. Abed Nadir." He realized that he probably should have called ahead; let her known that she was coming. But he hadn't been thinking so clearly.

"One moment." The woman pushed a button on the intercom next to her. "Ms. Perry? There's a Mr. Nadir here to see you."

"Abed?" He recognized the slightly confused sounding Britta through the static of the speaker. "Send him in!"

Carol took her finger off the button and motioned for Abed to go through the door to her right. Abed took one last glance at the photograph, and then made his way into Britta's office.

Britta Perry was sitting behind a mahogany desk at the far end of the room, typing away her into her Macintosh. Her hair was done up into an elegant looking bun, and she was dressed in a formal woman's business suit, black jacket and skirt over a white shirt. The professional image she was trying to project was slightly undermined by the way she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she typed, but Abed didn't mention this. He'd gotten better at self-censoring.

"Abed!" she said happily without looking up from her typing. "Come in! Sorry I don't get up; I'm in the middle of updating some case notes for one of my patients. Have a seat and give me a sec, 'kay?"

Abed pulled one of the chairs in front of Britta's desk out and sat. Over Britta's shoulder hung her diploma from Greendale Community College, and a slightly more impressive looking one from the University of Colorado that read "Masters in Clinical Psychology." There was also a crude looking painting of a vase which contained tiny little handprints instead of flowers. At the bottom it read (in handwriting that Abed recognized as belonging to his best friend): "Happy Mother's Day! Love, Jules."

Abed let his eyes roam around the room as Britta finished her work. A large bookshelf dominated the right wall of the room. Half of it was taken up by books that ran the gamut from thick, boring looking tomes with academic sounding titles about psychology to lighter, more inviting looking pop psych books written for a more general audience. The other half was crowded with an assortment of toys, board games, and other objects that Abed assumed were for Britta's younger patients. On the other side of the room sat two comfortable looking chairs, sitting facing each other, with a small end table between them. Flanking them was a large couch that was pushed up against the wall.

Britta stopped typing, and, grabbing a mug that was filled with what Abed guessed from experience was green tea, leaned back in her chair to consider her friend.

"So?" she asked simply, "What's up?"

"I realize I should have made an appointment, but I really need to talk to someone. Do you have time?"

Britta frowned. "Abed, we spoke about this. I'm really grateful that you let me practice my therapizing with you while we were at Greendale. It did both of us a lot of good, but the ethics of that were kinda…" she wrinkled her nose, "questionable. Now that I'm licensed, I need to hold myself to a higher standard. I can recommend someone in the area if you want me-"

"Britta," Abed interrupted, "please. I don't have time to get to the place where I can trust another doctor. Can't we just talk… as friends maybe?" He swallowed hard, and blinked a few times. His mind, calmed momentarily by the familiarness of this situation, of the intimacy of his past sessions with Britta, was becoming tempestuous again.

Britta's expression softened, and she reached out over her desk to take Abed's hand in her own. Abed smiled, grateful for the gesture.

"Alright, Abed. I'm sorry if I was a little dismissive. We can talk. My 11 o'clock canceled, so I've got some time. Why don't we go and grab an early lunch? My treat."

Abed nodded. "Shirley's?" he asked. He had always suspected that Britta had settled on this particular piece of real estate for her offices because of its proximity to their friend's sandwich shop.

"Sounds great! We can walk there." Britta pushed the intercom button. "Carol? I'm headed out to lunch. Call my cell if there are any emergencies."

"Yes, Ms. Perry. Oh, I almost forgot. Your husband called while you were with your last patient. He said to tell you that he's getting off early today so you don't have to worry about picking your daughter up from daycare."

"Thank you, Carol." Britta sighed as she let go of the intercom button. "10 to 1, I come home to find the light of my life has bought yet another oh so adorable costume for our child…"

Abed laughed, the pressure around his heart easing a little. This had been a good idea.

"Shall we?" Britta asked, pushing her chair back and standing up. Abed did likewise, and the pair left the office together, heading out into the bright Colorado sun.