The Weekend Girl
A/N: wrote this with the Childish Gambino song Got This Money in mind. I dunno, since the first time I heard it I've kinda associated it with Gillian, and that somehow got me thinking about the differences between her and Britta... and this happened. Whatever haha. Just a quick drabble. No harm meant.
Disclaimer: I don't own Community. Unfortunately.
He sees her standing at a cash point outside Starbucks, wearing this strappy yellow sundress and he does a double take because she doesn't wear dresses, certainly not in a color as bright and cheery as sunshine yellow, but who else in this day and age listens to a discman? He has to stop and stare for a moment. She looks – dare he say it? - normal; maybe even hot if he was willing to admit to that sort of thing. Not neurotic or opinionated or bitter or a buzzkill... just... normal. And he's finding it difficult to wrap his brain around that.
Troy's gaze falls back on her and he can't help but rake his eyes down her body – she doesn't usually show it off enough for it to be worthwhile him looking, but then, isn't that the point? Feminism or whatever - and she hasn't noticed him. She's too busy doing chores, or whatever else she's likely to be doing at 11am on a Saturday, in a sundress and flip-flops, her hair straight (?) and in a lazy ponytail, a smile half-hidden by a pair of sunglasses. He tells himself he ought to look away, go mind his own business, but it's like a particularly bad car crash on a highway and he can't drag his eyes away from it. He contemplates taking a picture, fairly sure that no one in the group would believe him if he told them he'd seen Britta wearing a dress, let alone anything else about this odd situation.
He follows her a little while. He pretends to feel bad about it, but really he's just trying to work out what the hell is going on. Has he stepped into an alternate reality? Or maybe Britta has a twin she hasn't told them about? Either way, he ends up standing across from her at some weird little market place he never knew existed, and he realises that, nope, this must be her. Because who the hell else would waste time shopping at somewhere like this? It smells all weird and herbal or something, and there are all these stalls of old books and other boring things that nobody in their right mind needs, but Britta's browsing with this lop-sided smile on her face, and Troy realises that this might be as close to happy as he's ever seen her. It's kind of like the blissfully unaware expression she had on her face when she walked into dance class, right before she spotted him there.
He hides behind a stack of weird sticks, and tries to work out what he should do now. He can hardly continue following her, but if he makes a run for it now, she'll probably see him. And honestly, he's fighting the urge to get out his cell phone and tell Abed what's going on, because seriously, Britta's wearing a dress. Nobody's dead, nobody's forced her to go to a stupid dance, but she's wearing a dress, and worst of all, she seems happy about it.
Before he has a chance to decide on an escape route, he looks up at just the wrong moment, and his eyes meet hers – she's lifted the sunglasses to look at... something – and this look of panic falls over her, and her lips curl into a small snarl, and he knows he's done for. She walks straight up to him and she has that repulsed look on her face that she gets when she's arguing with Jeff. Or correcting something someone's said. Or just generally breathing. Her arms are crossed across her torso, and he's not sure if that's purely out of annoyance, or an attempt to cover up her outfit (as if he hasn't already noticed it), but whatever its desired affect, it's making him panic. For lack of a better action, he busts out his Forest Whitaker face. That seems to throw her, because her eyebrows shoot up, and then eventually her disgust turns to annoyance, and she looks like she's about to break down and cry.
"Look, don't tell anybody you saw me, okay?" she hisses, tugging him over to a nearby alley, all the while looking around to make sure no one else is looking. He supposes that she might think Abed is with him. It's a logical conclusion to arrive at.
He isn't sure what he was expecting her to say or do or whatever, but he's fairly certain it wasn't this. And she's standing so close to him, that it's confusing. It's confusing because when girls stood this close to him at high school, they wanted him to kiss them. And it's confusing because a part of him kinda wants to.
"I mean it Troy," she has a hard expression on her face, but the second the words have left her mouth, it crumbles. She's not very good at being threatening, "look, Jeff will keep going on about it, and Pierce will make all these jokes, and Shirley's 'that's nice'-o-meter will be going crazy, and Annie-"
He never did find out what she supposed Annie would have to say on the situation, because he's kissing her, and he's not sure why he's doing it, even as he is, and at first she's still trying to talk, but then she leans in. And he's not sure, but he thinks this might be one of the best kisses he's ever had. He can't understand why Jeff would ever not want to kiss Britta if she kisses like this. But then she pulls back, and before he even has a chance to comment, she's running off, zipping between the rows of stalls, and he's too breathless to want to run after her.
The following Monday, when he sits down at the study room table, he decides he won't mention the dress. Or the kiss. Some things are better off being a secret.