FIC: A Stop at Sunny's

Sep 04, 2010 21:16

Title: A Stop at Sunny's
Author: jheaton
Summary: On the way to a party, Britta stops to buy some liquor. Britta/Pierce "friendship" plus a wee little bit of Annie/Jeff
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1800
Disclaimer: Community and related characters are © NBC Universal



Britta pulled into the lot of Sunny's Liquor and turned to talk to the passenger in the back seat as she undid her seatbelt. "Let's make this quick, Pierce, we're already running late, and I don't want Annie whining about how I ruined her party."

Pierce made no move to get out of the car. "Nah, I'm good back here. I trust you to get the right stuff. Anyway, shopping's more of a female thing."

Britta stared at him in disbelief. "Look, I'm not entirely unwilling to drive you around now and then while you get this thing with the state straightened out, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to do your shopping, too."

"C'mon, Brittles, help a brother out," Piece said pleadingly. "You like helping people."

"Yes, but people who actually need help, not-"

"I do need help! I'm being persecuted by the state."

She threw her hands up. "Ugh! I don't have time to argue about this. Don't mess with my radio presets."

Her phone rang as she got out of the car. She glanced at the Caller ID and answered brusquely. "What?"

"And hello to you too, Little Miss Sunshine!" Jeff said cheerfully. "How are we this fine afternoon?"

"Pierce is sitting in my back seat right now, how do you think I am?"

"I know. And I appreciate you doing it today. I know it was my turn, but Annie wanted me here to greet the guests." Annie and Jeff had moved in together over the summer, and were hosting a back-to-school/housewarming party at which Britta and Pierce had been expected 15 minutes ago. "Speaking of the guests, other than you two they're all here. Annie wants to know your ETA."

Britta stopped to let a skateboarder roll past her. "Pretty soon, but we had to stop at Sunny's. Guess what Pierce is making me do now?" She switched the phone to her other hand as she pulled open the door to the store and walked in. "He handed me a wad of cash and said he needed me to buy him some liquor. Can you believe that?"

Jeff laughed. "Yeah, he said that now that I was Annie's bitch, this might be my last chance to try one of his 'extra manly' drinks." Britta heard Annie's indignant voice in the background, but couldn't quite make out what she was saying. "Hey, I'm just repeating what he said!"

"That doesn't make it appropriate for you to say," Britta said disapprovingly.

"Wow, did you guys rehearse that or something? Anyway, you're what, 10 minutes away? Annie's worried about the schedule."

"You'd probably know better than me how long it takes to get from here to your place. And you know, the faster I get out of this store, the faster we get there."

"Got it. Call me back if you get delayed."

Hanging up, Britta made her away around the shop as quickly as she could and carried her load to the front counter. She handed the clerk the cash Pierce had given her for his selections, and pulled out her debit card to pay for her own. The clerk took the card, glanced out the window, and looked nervously at Britta. "We're having some problems authorizing cards today," he said. "I'll have to call this in."

"Oh, hold on, let me see if I have the cash." She checked her wallet, then rummaged through her bag, looking for loose bills. "Shoot. It won't take long?"

The clerk glanced out the window again. Britta looked too, but could see only her own car and the skateboarder. "I hope not."

"Fine, go ahead." While the clerk turned to his phone, Britta pulled out hers and shot off a text to Jeff about the delay. She doubted it would be significant, but she knew how Annie could get when forced to deviate from her schedule.

The nervous clerk finally returned her card and completed the sale. He placed the bottles into a cardboard box and slid it across the counter to Britta, who picked it up and walked toward the exit. She could see through the glass doors that a police cruiser had pulled up in front of the store, and was more than a little surprised when a pair of officers, one significantly taller than the other, got out of the car and approached her as she exited the store.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the taller of the two officers said. "May we have a word?"

Not waiting for an answer, the shorter one said, "Is all that for you?"

Britta looked down at the box of liquor in her arms. "No, just the vodka. I picked up the rest for a-" She hesitated, as always unsure of how exactly to describe her relationship with Pierce. "-a friend. He didn't want to come into the store."

The taller cop glanced toward the corner of the lot. "Your friend couldn't buy his own liquor, is that what you're saying?"

Following his glance, Britta saw the skateboarder she had seen on the way into the store, and comprehension dawned. "Wait, you don't think …"

"Ma'am, we received a call from the clerk at the store here. He overheard you saying that you had been come to the store to buy alcohol for another individual. Given who else was in the vicinity when you entered, he was … concerned."

"Officer, I would never agree to buy alcohol for a minor!" Britta said indignantly. "The person I was buying for is more than old enough to buy his own liquor."

"If that's the case, why didn't he?" asked the shorter officer.

Just then Pierce walked up. "Let's get a move on, Brittles! Jeff's getting more whipped every second we stand here!"

"Pierce!" Britta said, for the first time that she could recall relieved to see him. "These guys think I was buying for a minor! You-"

"Oh, Britta," Pierce said with disappointment in his voice. "How could you?" Turning to the officers, he added sotto voce, "I've always thought she was a little on the shady side."

"Pierce, you jackass, you asked me to buy all this!" She angrily thrust the box into his arms.

"Mm, what's that?" he said, looking at the bottles. "Oh yes, she's right, I did ask her to get all this. Except …" He shifted the box so he could hold it with one arm and pulled out a bottle of Absolut Citron. "I didn't ask for this."

"That's for me," Britta said. "To make Cosmopolitans."

"I should have known. That's like the most lesbian drink there is."

Britta's eyes flashed. "I swear to God, Pierce, I am going to take that bottle and-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, ma'am," the taller cop said. "As for you, sir, the young lady's sexual orientation is irrelevant. It's best if you keep remarks like that to yourself."

"I am not a lesbian!"

"You know," the shorter officer said thoughtfully, "my sister Becky came out last year, and she never drank anything but Cosmopolitans."

The taller cop closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in a way that reminded Britta of Jeff. "Not the time, Ray." He turned to Pierce. "Sir, if I may ask, why didn't you get your own liquor?"

Pierce glared at him. "You should know."

The officer raised his eyebrows. "I should?"

"Pierce, this probably isn't the police officer who confiscated your driver's license," Britta said.

"Well, how am I supposed to tell?" Pierce said irritably. "They all look alike to me."

The taller cop, an African-American with the lean body of a distance runner, looked at his stocky Asian partner. "'What?"

"Cops! You all dress alike, I can't tell you apart when I'm not wearing my contacts."

"His driver's license was confiscated when he got pulled over for driving too slowly in the fast land and they found out his insurance had lapsed," Britta explained to the police officers.

"And when I paid up my insurance and went to the DMV to get it back, they told me they didn't have it!" Pierce added angrily. "They said I'd have to pay to get a new one. It's outrageous! You lost my old license, why should I have to pay?"

The tall cop frowned. "Nobody lost anything. Confiscated licenses are destroyed as a matter of policy, to make sure they don't get stolen and sold on the black market."

Pierce waved his hand dismissively. "Lost, destroyed, whatever. The point is, it's your fault I don't have a license, so you should pay the replacement cost. In any event, my debit card has my picture on it, that and my social security card should be ID enough for anyone."

"OK," the shorter cop said, "so you don't have an ID. That still doesn't explain why you didn't buy your own alcohol."

"Get a clue, Charlie Chan!" Piece exclaimed. "Look at me! I need an ID to prove I'm old enough to drink! I've been going through a series of rejuvenation rituals with my Buddhist community. They've made me a new man."

The police officers looked at each other. "Right," the taller one said. "Well, it seems this has all been a big misunderstanding. Ma'am, I apologize for the confusion. Sir, I'm sorry about the trouble with your license. C'mon, Ray, let's get outta here."

Britta checked the time on her phone and winced. "Jeez, Annie's gonna kill us. Put that in the back seat and let's get out of here."

"Kill you, maybe," Pierce said, puffing slightly under the weight of the box. "It's hardly my fault you got in trouble with the police. You're just lucky I was here to get you out of it." Britta closed her eyes and counted to ten as Pierce struggled to open the car door without letting go of the box. "Hey, a little help?"

She took the box back from Pierce and watched in wonder as he opened the door, got in, and shut it. Shaking her head, she lifted her leg and braced the box against her thigh with one arm while opening the passenger-side door with the other, and placed the liquor on the seat. Getting in, she said, "Right. Look, how about I pay for your new license. You know, to-" She gritted her teeth. "-to pay you back for your help today."

"Really? Thanks, Britta, that's mighty white of you!"

"That's what!?"

"It'll be nice to be able to drive again," Pierce said, seemingly oblivious to Britta's outburst. "It's not so bad when the guys are driving, but it's hard to feel comfortable being driven around by a woman, you know?"

Britta seethed in silence as she backed out of the parking space and left the lot. Whatever it cost to get Pierce a new license, it would be a small price to pay.

Notes: Inspired by a friend who occasionally has to buy alcohol for her 90-year-old grandmother, because the local liquor store won't sell to anyone who doesn't have an ID, and she refuses to get one because she doesn't think she should have to pay for it. Thanks to dearygirl for interrupting her holiday weekend to beta this for me. Oh, and since she asked about it: yes, "that's mighty white of you" is an actual thing people say. Go figure.

character: pierce, fanfiction, character: britta

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