A/N: Written during Britta week for the Community comm on LJ after someone's prompt to have a reason why Britta seemed to hate Gary so much. I forgot to post it here. Oops! So here it is.
It all started with baking. After that first protest from Annie and Shirley in the fall, the women were ready for more activism, with or without Britta's help. And where Shirley went, baking was sure to follow.
It was because of that baking that Britta Perry met the whitest white man she had ever met, and she didn't mean an albino. He just had no soul. She wouldn't put a pair of tap shoes on him, no way. She wouldn't even consider telling him about the tap class she had been taking.
Gary, that was the man's name, was Shirley's friend. They'd met in her marketing class because he, too, was going to have his own food business. To be honest, Britta hadn't remembered. While introductions were being exchanged, she was hunting for a cigarette since she still smoked then.
But Shirley insisted he was a great guy. In fact, Gary was a veritable baking genius. So Britta bought a package of cookies from him, some of small white ones of uniform shape. It was for a good cause, and if there was ever a person to support a cause, Britta was your woman.
She had put the package of cookies in her shoulder bag because she was on her way to her next class, and she'd forgotten about them until she was done. By that point, she had a bit of an appetite, so she thought she'd give Gary's cookies a try.
She'd bitten into them, and they were the blandest tasting cookies she'd ever put in her mouth. With the same ingredients, they could have gotten old-fashioned glue paste, and at least that would have been useful. These cookies… were not.
She just stood there in the sidewalk of the campus making a foul expression at the taste of the cookies, when Troy came over without his recent shadow, Abed. Troy was looking like he was making some heavy work on some dark chocolate walnut brownies.
"Troy!" Britta hissed. "Try this!"
He looked at her suspiciously, so she rushed to explain. "It's from Shirley and Annie's bake sale to feed the homeless."
"Wouldn't it be easier to give them the food instead?" he asked, smacking his lips in satisfaction at the brownie he'd finished.
"Maybe not. Now try this cookie," she ordered.
He looked at her again as he took the small, perfectly round cookie and put it in his mouth. After about three bites, he stopped, and a choking sound came out of his throat. Troy couldn't even think of words to express how much he didn't like the cookies. He just kept making retching facial expressions long after the cookie was gone.
Finally, he asked, "Who made that?"
"Shirley's friend Gary," Britta said.
"Maybe I should meet him," Troy said feeling quite morbidly curious.
Together the two walked to the area of the campus where the bake sale for the homeless was still going strong.
Gary was putting his next set of cookies on the table, arranging them perfectly just so. Shirley Bennett was beaming beside him.
"So tell me about Finland," she said excitedly knowing she'd probably not get there any time soon, certainly not while her boys were still in school.
"Oh, Shirley," he said with a slight, almost coy smile. "It's home. What can you say about a place like that?"
"Were you born there?" she asked suddenly, realizing that Gary was not a very Finnish sounding name. While she didn't know what did sound Finnish, she knew it sounded too much like an everyday name she'd heard before.
He did this odd sucking in of air as he said the word, "No. I was born in New Zealand, actually."
"Oh, that's nice!" Shirley said appreciatively. She had heard that New Zealand was a lovely country.
"Is that why you cook like this?" Britta suddenly interjected.
Shirley had been so intent on her little conversational moment with Gary that she hadn't noticed Britta and Troy walking their way.
"Do you want some more cookies, Britta?" she asked her study partner with a plastic smile on her face and clear enunciation of each T in her name.
"No, I should almost ask for my money back. If this wasn't for the homeless, Shirley," she said with a disgusted look before fixing her eyes on Gary.
"Is this how you cook in New Zealand or Finland or wherever it is you're from?" she demanded.
"Well, yes," he said. "My parents can't take much spice, so to be considerate of others, we always save the seasoning for last so you can fix it the way you like. I did bring some toppings if you like."
He pointed to sprinkles and various other things Britta could have put on her white and bland cookies. She could have sworn they weren't there when she had bought them before.
"It's the newest rage," Shirley agreed. "Fast personalizable cookies. He's even got a business plan for it!" She practically cooed over him with pride.
"Yeah?" Britta challenged. "Well, it tastes bad. And… and… I wouldn't feed these to my cat!"
Shirley and Troy gasped at that point, but it was because that was what they were expected to do. They hadn't known Britta long enough yet to know if feeding her cat human food was a big deal or not.
"Well, I'm sorry," Gary answered in a bewildered tone. He hadn't known anyone who didn't like cookies, especially not his. People always loved his cookies.
Then he noticed the pack of cigarettes poking out of Britta's pocket. "Maybe you just can't taste the subtlety of the flavors. Smoking will dull your senses like that."
Her eyes narrowed at him. She was thinking something along the lines that the only dull thing here was Gary and his bland white cookies. She kept her mouth quiet, though, because she was still making friends with Troy and Shirley.
The former prom king saved her by noticing some brownies in clear cling wrap. "Shirley, did you make those?"
"With Elijah and Jordan's help," she said proudly. "Well, they licked the spoons when I was done, but they would have helped…"
"I've got to have me some of that," he said as he handed over money.
Taking the deliciously moist brownie into his mouth, Troy let out a moan of satisfaction.
"Better than Gary's cookies?" Britta asked in mock sweetness.
"Oh, god, yes," Troy said around the bites of his brownie.
Pierce came up to the table in time to hear the last exchange, and he clapped his hand on Troy's shoulder.
"Sounds like an orgasm of flavor in your mouth." To Shirley, he added, "I'll take a dozen."
Shirley was stuck between being pleased for her accomplishment and being mortified on Gary's behalf.
"Please, try one of his cookies, Pierce," she urged.
"Nope. Have to go. I heard about how awful those are!" he said before going off to one of his marketing classes.
"Britta!" Shirley accused as he walked away.
She put both her hands up in surrender. "I didn't. I swear. I only talked to Troy. The bland speaks for itself."
"That's not nice, Britta," she said.
She shrugged and then pulled Troy's elbow. "We have to go to class. Shirley," she acknowledged. "Gary," she said with disdain.
As she and Troy walked away, she wondered aloud, "What am I going to do with these cookies?"
"You could give them to Sr. Chang," Troy offered while he was still smacking on the remains of Shirley's delicious brownies.
When she thought of it, she got a huge smile on her face, and she sighed in satisfaction. "I just might. Thanks, Troy."