24: fanfiction (britta/troy)
Title: Going Home
Fandom/Characters: Community - Britta/Troy
Summary: "And, how, exactly, do you know what underpants Jeff normally wears?". Set directly after 2.08 (so SPOILERS).
Notes: Somebody ought to take my keyboard away from me. Whatever, I typed this as a response to last night's episode, and also because I've been dwelling on the whole 'secret dating' thing for a while. I'm writing a longer fic at the moment on the same kind of topic, but I don't want to start posting it until its finished (rather than do it in parts). So this is just another short one-shot.
Walking across the pavilion, Britta gazed over at the Puppy Parade which was just beginning to wind down. She didn't mind missing it so much; she was more of a cat person anyways. And they'd ended up having another uniquely Greendale - and uniquely them - experience as it was. Who needed the stupid Puppy Parade anyway? She thought about everything that had happened in that study room - both today, and in the past - and shook her head. It seemed like something out of a movie, or a particularly weird cartoon, but here she was living it. She wondered if tomorrow morning they'd get in to find the room returned to its usual state, or whether they would have to find somewhere else to study. It didn't matter too much to her.
As she stopped by her car, fishing through her purse for her keys, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She caught the edge of her keys with her fingertips and hoisted them out, almost letting the rest of the contents of her purse fly out as well. Since it had all been dislodged, it wasn't in its usual order. A a chap stick had looped itself through one of her keychains, and Britta wasn't quite able to catch it in time before it hit the floor.
“Here,” a voice said, and Britta turned to find Troy holding out her little tube of gloss. She smiled, taking it from him, “some afternoon, huh?”
Britta chuckled, “yeah. You might say that. Sometimes, I look back on the day and wonder how the hell I ended up here, and whether I've dreamt the whole thing,” she put the chapstick back in her bag and zipped it, fiddling with her keys in her left hand, “did you want a ride home?”
“Sure,” he said, nodding. Everybody else was at the Puppy Parade, but he'd already decided it was pointless to just catch the end. Pierce would have to find somebody else to wheel him up the front steps of his estate tonight.
They climbed in the car and Britta put the heating on, apologized for it taking so long to warm up. Just like she always did whenever she gave Troy a lift, which, had become more and more regular. She slung her bag on the back seat, shrugged off her jacket and tossed that on top, and started the engine.
“Do you think Shirley's really pregnant?” Troy asked as they pulled out of the car-lot. He had kept the fact that Shirley and Chang had slept together a secret, although it was paining him not to share it with somebody. He knew that eventually he would flake and tell, and he was fairly sure he knew who would end up hearing the secret first.
Britta kept her eyes on the road, “I dunno. Abed and his creepy charts would suggest otherwise.”
“Y'know, with all that observation and stuff of his I always wonder what else he knows,”
As she continued to drive, Britta contemplated that. Abed did have a freaky ability to know exactly what was going on with everybody. Hell, he even managed to predict the future with some of his films and he was scarily accurate. The day after she had slept with Jeff, he'd known something was wrong. She tried to push that to the back of her brain, because it was a disheartening and sort of scary thought.
“I wouldn't worry about it,” she told him, trying to concentrate on driving. A yellow taxi came soaring down the side, overtaking her battered little car and she honked the horn at him, forcing herself not to shout out the window like she might have done if she were alone.
“It's just...” he paused, “well, nevermind.”
“Troy, if you think he knows about the weekend... you needn't worry. I think he would have mentioned something if he had worked things out,” she glanced over at him as they went round a corner. This wasn't the route to Pierce's house. He wasn't at all surprised.
“I don't mind... I mean, so what if they do work it out?” his words seemed to be a lot stronger than his voice, but she didn't say anything, “it's only you I'm worried about. Because of the whole Jeff and Annie thing,”
Britta sighed. She had sensed that something was still going on between the two of them today, but she hadn't wanted to mention it. Maybe she was just paranoid. Or maybe it was none of her business because she didn't care about Jeff any more. She and Annie had tried to work through their differences since all the stuff from the start of term, but it was still lingering over them. She figured they would never really truly be best friends because.... well, best friends didn't do what Annie had done. But they might as well pretend, which they seemed to be pretty good at.
“And, how, exactly, do you know what underpants Jeff normally wears?” Troy asked, narrowing his eyes at her as she glanced over at him again.
“Why, jealous?”
He made a really fake scoff like noise and shook his head, but his eyes gave him away, “no, of course not. Like I'd be jealous of Jeff Winger. And you. Having sex. On the table.”
“We've been over this Troy. If you want us to have sex in the study room, that's fine by me. But you're going to have to work out an ingenuous plan to get rid of the rest of our friends, because I've already stripped down in front of them all once now, and I don't really feel like doing it again.”
He grumbled something, just as she pulled into the parking space right outside her apartment building. She turned in her seat to face him, leant across and kissed him gently, “you know I'm not doing anything with Jeff. He has... Gw--- whatever her name was,” she rolled her eyes, “and I... well I have you.”
Troy grinned. He got out of the car and dashed round to her side to open her door for her. She looked like she was going to comment - she could open a door by herself - but thought better of it. He opened the door to the back and pulled out her jacket and purse, carrying them over to the front door. He waited whilst she found the key to the main entrance. They went up the stairs in silence.
“So, about that butt-stuff...” he said, once they were safely in her apartment, Britta busy petting her cat as he put her purse on the table, hung her coat up.
Britta groaned, “don't push your luck, okay, or you'll be sleeping on the couch.”
Fandom/Characters: Community - Britta/Troy
Summary: "And, how, exactly, do you know what underpants Jeff normally wears?". Set directly after 2.08 (so SPOILERS).
Notes: Somebody ought to take my keyboard away from me. Whatever, I typed this as a response to last night's episode, and also because I've been dwelling on the whole 'secret dating' thing for a while. I'm writing a longer fic at the moment on the same kind of topic, but I don't want to start posting it until its finished (rather than do it in parts). So this is just another short one-shot.
Walking across the pavilion, Britta gazed over at the Puppy Parade which was just beginning to wind down. She didn't mind missing it so much; she was more of a cat person anyways. And they'd ended up having another uniquely Greendale - and uniquely them - experience as it was. Who needed the stupid Puppy Parade anyway? She thought about everything that had happened in that study room - both today, and in the past - and shook her head. It seemed like something out of a movie, or a particularly weird cartoon, but here she was living it. She wondered if tomorrow morning they'd get in to find the room returned to its usual state, or whether they would have to find somewhere else to study. It didn't matter too much to her.
As she stopped by her car, fishing through her purse for her keys, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She caught the edge of her keys with her fingertips and hoisted them out, almost letting the rest of the contents of her purse fly out as well. Since it had all been dislodged, it wasn't in its usual order. A a chap stick had looped itself through one of her keychains, and Britta wasn't quite able to catch it in time before it hit the floor.
“Here,” a voice said, and Britta turned to find Troy holding out her little tube of gloss. She smiled, taking it from him, “some afternoon, huh?”
Britta chuckled, “yeah. You might say that. Sometimes, I look back on the day and wonder how the hell I ended up here, and whether I've dreamt the whole thing,” she put the chapstick back in her bag and zipped it, fiddling with her keys in her left hand, “did you want a ride home?”
“Sure,” he said, nodding. Everybody else was at the Puppy Parade, but he'd already decided it was pointless to just catch the end. Pierce would have to find somebody else to wheel him up the front steps of his estate tonight.
They climbed in the car and Britta put the heating on, apologized for it taking so long to warm up. Just like she always did whenever she gave Troy a lift, which, had become more and more regular. She slung her bag on the back seat, shrugged off her jacket and tossed that on top, and started the engine.
“Do you think Shirley's really pregnant?” Troy asked as they pulled out of the car-lot. He had kept the fact that Shirley and Chang had slept together a secret, although it was paining him not to share it with somebody. He knew that eventually he would flake and tell, and he was fairly sure he knew who would end up hearing the secret first.
Britta kept her eyes on the road, “I dunno. Abed and his creepy charts would suggest otherwise.”
“Y'know, with all that observation and stuff of his I always wonder what else he knows,”
As she continued to drive, Britta contemplated that. Abed did have a freaky ability to know exactly what was going on with everybody. Hell, he even managed to predict the future with some of his films and he was scarily accurate. The day after she had slept with Jeff, he'd known something was wrong. She tried to push that to the back of her brain, because it was a disheartening and sort of scary thought.
“I wouldn't worry about it,” she told him, trying to concentrate on driving. A yellow taxi came soaring down the side, overtaking her battered little car and she honked the horn at him, forcing herself not to shout out the window like she might have done if she were alone.
“It's just...” he paused, “well, nevermind.”
“Troy, if you think he knows about the weekend... you needn't worry. I think he would have mentioned something if he had worked things out,” she glanced over at him as they went round a corner. This wasn't the route to Pierce's house. He wasn't at all surprised.
“I don't mind... I mean, so what if they do work it out?” his words seemed to be a lot stronger than his voice, but she didn't say anything, “it's only you I'm worried about. Because of the whole Jeff and Annie thing,”
Britta sighed. She had sensed that something was still going on between the two of them today, but she hadn't wanted to mention it. Maybe she was just paranoid. Or maybe it was none of her business because she didn't care about Jeff any more. She and Annie had tried to work through their differences since all the stuff from the start of term, but it was still lingering over them. She figured they would never really truly be best friends because.... well, best friends didn't do what Annie had done. But they might as well pretend, which they seemed to be pretty good at.
“And, how, exactly, do you know what underpants Jeff normally wears?” Troy asked, narrowing his eyes at her as she glanced over at him again.
“Why, jealous?”
He made a really fake scoff like noise and shook his head, but his eyes gave him away, “no, of course not. Like I'd be jealous of Jeff Winger. And you. Having sex. On the table.”
“We've been over this Troy. If you want us to have sex in the study room, that's fine by me. But you're going to have to work out an ingenuous plan to get rid of the rest of our friends, because I've already stripped down in front of them all once now, and I don't really feel like doing it again.”
He grumbled something, just as she pulled into the parking space right outside her apartment building. She turned in her seat to face him, leant across and kissed him gently, “you know I'm not doing anything with Jeff. He has... Gw--- whatever her name was,” she rolled her eyes, “and I... well I have you.”
Troy grinned. He got out of the car and dashed round to her side to open her door for her. She looked like she was going to comment - she could open a door by herself - but thought better of it. He opened the door to the back and pulled out her jacket and purse, carrying them over to the front door. He waited whilst she found the key to the main entrance. They went up the stairs in silence.
“So, about that butt-stuff...” he said, once they were safely in her apartment, Britta busy petting her cat as he put her purse on the table, hung her coat up.
Britta groaned, “don't push your luck, okay, or you'll be sleeping on the couch.”