Annie fell back against the bed, her hair fanning out around her as she smiled up at him. For a second, it was like the camera had disappeared and she was looking at him- just him. Her eyes soft and warm, her lips pursed. Her hand swept through her hair and started to reach out-

"What are you guys doing?" Britta's harsh voice cut through the spell.

Annie propped herself up on one elbow, "We're shooting my missing lover footage."


"You know- like how in movies when the hero's wife or girlfriend is dead or missing so he sits in the dark and watches her in a home movie-"

"Or a hologram." Abed offered.

"Or a hologram," Annie agreed, "over and over again and she's always beautiful and full of love? Well, we're making footage like that for me- in case I get kidnapped or murdered!"

Britta gave Annie a long look and turned toward Abed. Her eyes moved back and forth between them. "Whatever," She announced finally, "Frankie should be here any minute."

"Okay!" Annie's voice was chipper. She turned toward Abed, "How was it? Do we need another take?"

He glanced into the viewfinder, watching the last few moments again. His face was impassive but he something stirred in the pit of his stomach, below his ribcage as he watched her smile into the camera. He tried to put a name to the feeling. I feel- the camera had caught the faint glisten of her lip gloss as though she had just licked her lips. He wondered if it was flavored. Strawberry or pink lemonade. I feel- he tried again, staring down into her blue eyes, the deep perfect shade of the sky opposite the sinking sun. Were her pupils dilated? He would have to upload the footage and enlarge it. She was reaching out to him. Her pale slender hand moving toward his- what? His face, maybe? To cup his cheek and slide soft fingers into his hair.

The name for the emotion came to him suddenly. Not, I feel.

I want.

Annie shifted impatiently on the bed and he snapped the camera shut.

"No," He told her emphatically, "We don't need another take. It will be easy for the audience to see why the hero would do anything to protect you."

When his eyes flicked back to her, she murmured his name, "Abed. . ." A little question lifting the end.

The feeling struck him again. Want.

"I have to get changed." He told her flatly and turned toward the door, "We can discuss edits later."