A/N: Inspired by the line "I'm more turned on by women in pajamas than lingerie. I just want to know they feel comfortable."
Their third date is a disaster.
As it turns out, the mini-golf place the next town over is less than legitimate. The man at the check in desk has a total of four teeth, Troy's golf club breaks in half on the third hole, and Britta gets hit in the head by the windmill while bending over to pick up her ball.
They only make it to the sixth hole before Troy nearly topples into the waterfall, Britta verbally abuses a couple of teenage boys who have perfected the art of wolf whistling, and they jump the fence to get back to her car, because they're not sure they can navigate the rest of that death trap.
It's still early, and when Britta suggests going back to her apartment to hang out, Troy doesn't hesitate to say yes. He figures they'll probably put on a movie, order a pizza, and have a chill night together. As far as doing anything… else, well, he knows that Britta has no qualms about it, but they did agree to take it slow.
So he's not worried.
He's not worried in the car on the way to her apartment, or in the elevator on the way up, or even when he sits down on her couch and she brings him a beer.
Then she hands him the remote, tells him to find something to watch, and says she's going to change into something "more comfortable".
That's when he worries.
Troy has seen enough movies with Abed to know that when a girl says she's going to change into something "more comfortable", nine out of ten times she actually puts on lingerie. And not comfortable lingerie (if that even exists, and Troy is not sure it does), but things with lace and corsets and fur, and all he can think is that it must be really itchy and constricting.
"Oh, Troy,"
He turns at the sound of Britta's voice coming from her bedroom. The door is open, but she's not in his line of vision. However the growing pile of discarded clothing is. This is not looking good. Now that she's got his attention she's going to come sauntering out in a lacy, furry, corset-y thing and try to seduce him, and whatever happened to taking it slow?
"Yeah?" He says finally. He braces himself for what is about to happen, but nothing does.
"You should try TNT, I think they're showing The Dark Knight."
"Oh, yeah, sure."
So he puts on TNT, and tries to figure out what kind of game she's playing here. Maybe she wants to surprise him? Get him distracted by the movie, then come from behind and blindfold him? It's happened in movies before, usually pornos, but they still count (sort of).
He doesn't realize that he's downed half of his beer until the Joker's voice from on screen surprises him, and he nearly drops the bottle. Then he downs the rest, just for good measure. It's not her fault- she doesn't know his feelings about this particular subject- but he's disappointed nonetheless. He had hoped that she would be different, that she wouldn't be one of those girls who dress up in fancy, itchy lingerie- who feel the need to touch up their make up (which he assumes she is doing, because she's taking so long and he knows that she's got an en suite bathroom) before seducing their man in the aforementioned lingerie.
That's not what he wants, and he decides rather suddenly that he's not going to put up with it. He's got his hand on the doorknob by the time Britta finally comes padding out of her room.
"Are you leaving?"
Troy tries not to turn around, but she sounds so deflated that he decides he at least owes her an explanation. After all, this isn't really her fault.
So he turns to tell her exactly why it's not cool that she's wearing lingerie, and stops, staring.
Her jeans and plaid shirt have been shed in favor of a pair of grey sweatpants, slung low on her hips, and a white tank top that's maybe just a little too small and reveals a creamy stretch of stomach that causes Troy to clench his jaw to prevent it from falling open. His mind screams that she could still be wearing the lingerie under what looks like an incredibly comfortable pair of pajamas, but that theory quickly goes out the window when he realizes that, yeah, she is definitely not wearing a bra.
Britta stands under Troy's gaze, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and drawing his attention to the fact that she wasn't touching up her make up, but taking it off. Her plain lipstick-less lips are parted slightly in disappointment, and all Troy can think is Damn, she looks comfortable.
"I…" his voice comes back suddenly, and seemingly without conscious effort, "I was just going to get us a pizza."
In a few strides Britta crosses the space between them and quirks an eyebrow,
"You know, there's this really awesome thing called delivery…"
"Right… delivery…"
And then his hands are on her hips, and their mouths are crashing together, and they don't even care that maybe a ferry full of prisoners getting blown up isn't exactly "mood music".
They never do order a pizza, or watch The Dark Knight. Instead, they make a very good case for why taking it slow was probably an awful idea anyways.