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Community and Tru Calling Crossover: The Art of Forgetting

The last thing Britta wanted to do was think about Jeff. Shirley had found out that Jeff had kissed Annie in the aftermath of the Tranny Dance fiasco. It was one of those fiascos where she had told Jeff she loved him in front of everyone else at the dance. In front of Professor Slater who was also trying to compete for Jeff's undying affection. But did she really love him? Or was it just a little more-than-friendly competition with Jeff's ex-girlfriend. Unlike Professor Slater, Jeff had never officially dated Britta, but she was the reason that Jeff had started the study group and he tried multiple times to get into her pants as a result. But as of right now, that was not what she needed.

The last thing Britta wanted to do was think about Jeff. She wanted to forget that Jeff had kissed Annie right outside of the Tranny Dance. He'd kissed her right after he'd walked out on Britta and Slater. Right after Britta had told him she loved him. So Britta took Shirley's advice and set out for a vacation in New York City. Even if it was only for a short time, at least it would get her mind off of him. She'd left very specific feeding instructions for Shirley and Troy who were alternating in taking turns caring for and feeding her cat, Mr. Meowskers.

Now, she was in New York City and was renting the cheapest motel she could find. Once she'd checked in, she made her way to the closest bar she could find. And she sat there lost in thought. Not even drinking yet. Barely thinking. Just lost in her own train of confused, frustrated thought.

"Excuse me. Is this seat taken?" a distinct, smooth male voice interrupted her thoughts and indicated the seat next to her.

Caught a little off guard, Britta replied, "Uhhh, no, go ahead."

"Thanks," he smiled, and set his nearly finished bottle of beer on the counter's smooth tabletop. Noticing that the blonde haired girl beside him was once again lost in her own thoughts, he tried again by striking up casual conversation. "So, are you new around here?"

"Oh, no. I mean, I'm not staying. Just visiting," Britta told him, meeting his eyes for the first time. They were a brilliant shade of blue and her mind briefly wandered back to a teen soap opera she thought she'd seen in the 90's. He looked slightly familiar…


"Well, then, welcome to The City That Never Sleeps," he said, raising his beer bottle in acknowledgment and taking a drink.

"Thanks. So what about you? Do you live around here?"

The man beside her chuckled. "Something like that. You're lucky that New York is just a pit stop for you. A big city like this is the best form of escapism."

"Really? I mean, I've been here before, but I've never thought of it that way." Britta considers this.

"Everyone here sees New York City through slightly different shades of rose colored glasses," Mr. Dazzling Blue Eyes informed her.

A beat.

"Oh, sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself." He extended a hand towards her. "Jack Harper."

She shook his hand firmly and finally offered him a small smile. "Britta Perry. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Jack flashed her a smile. "Can I buy you a drink?"


Two hours and two tall glasses of beer (each) later, Jack had learned quite a lot about Britta. Or at least as far as drunken, casual yet oddly intimate conversations could go. She told him all about the Tranny Dance fiasco and the desperate declaration of love for her on again/off again friend, Jeff. The one she'd had sex with during the paintball game. She told him how she'd dropped out of high school because she thought it would impress RadioHead, lived in New York for a period of time, did some foot modeling, got tear gassed at a World Trade rally, seen Amsterdam and a whole slew of other places all over the world, vandalized billboards with her anarchist friends and finally ended up in Greendale, Colorado and enrolled in Greendale Community College after obtaining her GED. She told him about Jeff's fake Spanish study group and the group of lovable misfits she'd grown to love over the past year. She even admitted to not being a great student, but that she planned on eventually majoring in Women's Studies with a concentration or minor in Urban Sustainability. She saw it as a fresh start, a chance to do something with her life again.

"I understand," Jack sympathized. "Life doesn't hand you too many second chances."

"No, it doesn't," Britta acknowledged. "But what about you? You seem like a pretty together guy. What are you even doing here?"

"I come to this bar a lot," Jack admitted. "Like you… sometimes… sometimes we just need to forget."

He finished off the last of his third beer.

"Did you just break up with your girlfriend or something?" Britta asked.

"You're oddly perceptive considering we just met," Jack commented. "What gave that away?"

Britta shrugged, smiling. "Just a hunch."

Jack sighed. "It's more… it's more complicated than that. She's not even my girlfriend… exactly."

"Oh, one of those."

"I honestly don't know what we are," Jack said. "I mean, I like her… she's gorgeous… one of a kind…"


"But I can't have her." Jack stopped, suddenly becoming lost in his own train of thought and sighing again. He could never tell this girl he'd just met in the bar the complete truth. He could never tell her that him and Tru Davies, the girl in question, were opposites. He could never tell Britta that Tru worked in a morgue and when bodies came in they'd ask her to help them. He could never tell Britta that when the bodies asked for help, Tru's day would rewind, as would his, but while it was Tru's job to save those people who she thought died before their time, his job was the exact opposite. He had to ensure that they wound up dead again. But he could never admit that to Britta. It was much too complicated.

However, he did add, "Plus, I don't deserve her."

Britta quirked a curious eyebrow at him. "You seem interested enough in her. So what's stopping you? I mean, have you guys-…"

"Yes," was his curt reply.

Because they had slept together. Just once.

Only once.

Tru had later dismissed it as a lapse in her own judgment. A mistake. But even as she admitted this, he could tell she felt something. Intrigue maybe.

Well, it was a start.

"But I don't deserve her," Jack repeated.

"You keep convincing yourself of that and you won't."

As Britta spoke, Jack looked at her. Really looked at her. He noticed how her blonde curls framed her face and came to rest on her shoulders. He suddenly realized how beautiful she was. And okay, so maybe he was starting to get a little drunk, but hey, so was she!

He stared at her for a moment longer before asking, "Can I buy you another drink?"

They had another round of drinks and soon they are both very drunk. Jack invited Britta back to his place after assuring her at least ten times that Tru would not be jealous. Tru wouldn't even know!

They walked out of the bar together, each in their own drunken stupor, but giggling excitedly with one another. Britta's arm is looped through Jack's as they make their way down the street and stumble into Jack's apartment. And then Jack's hands are roaming over Britta's body and his fingers are tangled in her blonde curls. Their lips met, tongues crashed against one another's as he pushed her down on his bed and left a trail of drunken kisses along the creases of her neck. Clothes are later removed and have found sanctuary on the floor beneath them as they move in flawless synchronicity beneath the sheets. In the moment, despite both of them being very drunk, they are allowed to forget about their circumstances. About the people that they really should be with. About the people they should apologize to – or at the very least – talk to.

But instead, they have found each other. And just for the night, they could both forget.

The absence of Britta beside him did not surprise him the next morning. She had left. It was a one time thing. She was gone.

But she had left behind a note.


What we had last night was a release for both of us. Go be with her.


Jack held the flimsy piece of paper in his hand before crumpling it in his palm. He glanced over at the cell phone on his nightstand.

There was someone he needed to call. Someone he couldn't let go of. Someone he couldn't forget.

Tru had seen them. She'd been working the graveyard shift at the morgue (again), but no bodies had come in that night and asked her for help.

But she'd seen them. Jack and some blonde haired chick. Both smiling and laughing and quite obviously drunk and oblivious to the rest of the world.

A pang of something hit her when she had seen them. But what was it? Could what she was feeling be…



Could it?

Tru sighed, barely registering the tears that formed in her eyes as she saw them walk towards his apartment.

The next morning as Tru was getting ready to go meet her brother, Harrison, for breakfast, she heard her cell phone ring. She checked the Caller ID, freezing when she saw the name on the display screen.

It was him.