Fic: Maybe, Probably, Kinda Totally Weird (Community/DW)
maybe, probably, kinda totally weird. pg, 1162 words, Britta + Eleven. Catastrophe strikes Greendale and Britta meets someone who's probably insane, and most possibly will save the day. But, seriously, there's no way Greendale's getting invaded by aliens. Written for this prompt at the Season Five Ficathon.
"You're kidding me, right? This is some sort of practical joke, yeah?" Britta asks him as he rushes by her. She tries to keep up but his legs are so long and hers are so not and she's running out of breath.
"Not at all," he says with a straight face. She can't believe some of the nutjobs they let into this place.
"What? No, really, stop teasing me. Just tell me what's going on!" she insists, still (awkwardly) trying to run along with him.
"Your university is, unfortunately, being taken over by hostile outworlders. I can provide details some other time, but right now I'm rather busy, so unless you want to help I'd really appreciate it if you just left me alone and found somewhere to hide like the rest of your classmates," he says, finally turning toward her to deliver that last bit.
She sighs, still looking up at him. "What do I have to do?" she asks. She can't believe she's getting herself into this crap. But she needs to find the rest of the study group and actually find out what's going on and this guy seems to know what he's doing or at least where he's going.
His face lights up. "Excellent! I always love a helper." He turns back around and begins running again, fiddling with some green flashy thing in his hands.
She follows behind him, looking around at the mess that Greendale has now become. Hopefully Crazypants McNutjob in front of her can do something about it.
But, seriously, there's no way Greendale is getting invaded by aliens.
Okay, so Greendale is getting invaded by aliens.
Britta's seen an awful lot of really whacked out stuff during her time there, but she's pretty sure that whatever just attacked and totally tore up the school isn't something typical of Greendale.
And this guy, this really weird guy who is wearing a bow-tie like he's some kind of hipster, just seems to be all chill and cool and taking care of it.
"Need help?" she asks, since basically all she's been doing is standing or running or hiding.
"Hold this," he says, and hands her some funky metal thing he picked up in one of the science labs. Then he starts waving that green flashy phallic symbol over it and grins. "Perfect."
"Is there anything...you know, substantial that I could do?" 'Cause being useless sucks.
He turns to glare at her. "You're doing perfectly useful things right now, you just don't know it."
"Thanks," she mumbles. Somehow that doesn't make her feel any better.
They're in the middle of an epic battle with these creatures that look like they were regurgitated by the seatless toilets in the girl's bathroom when something occurs to Britta.
"What's your name?" she asks, ducking underneath a table in the study room.
"This is really, really not the time for formalities," he yells back, shaking the metal contraption in his hand. "No, no, no, don't die on me now!"
"But seriously, I need to call you something. Eeek!" she exclaims as she narrowly misses being impaled by something sharp and sticky.
"See! That's why we don't do formalities in the middle of an all out war," he says pointedly at her.
"I get your point," she grumbles, her hands over her head.
He bangs the metal thing against the floor a few times, which Britta is totally sure cannot be good for it at all.
He says something that she doesn't quite catch. She can't hear him over the gastrointestinal noises the aliens are making and the banging of the metal thing against the floor.
"What?" she asks, trying to scoot closer to him. She's almost hit by a bomb but manages to dodge it just in time. She falls over into his lap and bangs her head on something.
"Owww," she whines, rubbing her head. She looks up and sees his slightly amused expression, which makes her roll her eyes. "Thanks. I'm glad my pain is funny."
"I'm the Doctor, is what I said," he tells her. "Now get up, because I need to fix this and I certainly can't do it with you sprawled out all over me."
"Yeah, right," she says, and she sits up. Her head is still pounding and she wishes she just stayed home this morning.
Something occurs to her. "The Doctor of what?" she asks.
He gives her a look she can't quite read - is it of disappointment? "No, that's not right," he says, pouting. "You're supposed to ask, 'Doctor Who?' I like that bit."
"Yeah. This really isn't the time for formalities. You were right," she concedes, unable to conceal the layer of snark.
"Hah!" he yells, and she jumps.
"What? What?" she asks, looking around frantically.
"Fixed!" he proclaims triumphantly.
"Does that mean all of this will stop?" she asks.
He shrugs. "Dunno. Haven't tried it yet. Geronimo!" he yells as he throws the metal contraption over the desk barricade.
There's a weird pulse-y sound and burst of light, and when it's over Britta's pretty sure that she's not going to be able to see right for a week. "You blinded me, dumbass," she says.
She looks up, and she can see him poking his head above the table fort. "So?" she asks. "Do we have to run for our lives or what?"
He looks down at her, a smirk plastered on his features. "What did I tell you? It worked. You never should have doubted me."
"Doctor, if there's one thing I haven't done, it's doubted you," she tells him with a sigh of relief.
"So...do you want to come with me?" he asks her, standing in front of his weird blue box.
She smiles. "You know, I think I'm gonna pass on that one. But it was fun while it lasted," she tells him.
He nods, understanding. "Thank you for all of your help, Britta. I really couldn't have done it without you."
She looks up at him. "Yeah, right," she scoffs.
"Okay, maybe I could have."
She laughs, and stands on her toes to give him a hug. He reciprocates, and hugs her tightly.
"Well, goodbye," he says, and then opens the doors to the blue box. "You sure you don't want a peek inside?"
"Yeah, no. Thanks, though," she says. She's sure whatever's on the inside of that blue box is just as weird as everything that's happened all day.
He waves to her as he gets into the box, and then shuts the door. In a few seconds the wind blows and Britta's hair gets all messed up as the blue box starts to fade away.
She's not really surprised that it does that.
She doesn't wait for the blue box to reappear, because she's pretty sure it'll be back soon enough. Weird stuff just seems to gravitate towards Greendale.
Still, it doesn't mean that she won't miss him just a little.
"You're kidding me, right? This is some sort of practical joke, yeah?" Britta asks him as he rushes by her. She tries to keep up but his legs are so long and hers are so not and she's running out of breath.
"Not at all," he says with a straight face. She can't believe some of the nutjobs they let into this place.
"What? No, really, stop teasing me. Just tell me what's going on!" she insists, still (awkwardly) trying to run along with him.
"Your university is, unfortunately, being taken over by hostile outworlders. I can provide details some other time, but right now I'm rather busy, so unless you want to help I'd really appreciate it if you just left me alone and found somewhere to hide like the rest of your classmates," he says, finally turning toward her to deliver that last bit.
She sighs, still looking up at him. "What do I have to do?" she asks. She can't believe she's getting herself into this crap. But she needs to find the rest of the study group and actually find out what's going on and this guy seems to know what he's doing or at least where he's going.
His face lights up. "Excellent! I always love a helper." He turns back around and begins running again, fiddling with some green flashy thing in his hands.
She follows behind him, looking around at the mess that Greendale has now become. Hopefully Crazypants McNutjob in front of her can do something about it.
But, seriously, there's no way Greendale is getting invaded by aliens.
Okay, so Greendale is getting invaded by aliens.
Britta's seen an awful lot of really whacked out stuff during her time there, but she's pretty sure that whatever just attacked and totally tore up the school isn't something typical of Greendale.
And this guy, this really weird guy who is wearing a bow-tie like he's some kind of hipster, just seems to be all chill and cool and taking care of it.
"Need help?" she asks, since basically all she's been doing is standing or running or hiding.
"Hold this," he says, and hands her some funky metal thing he picked up in one of the science labs. Then he starts waving that green flashy phallic symbol over it and grins. "Perfect."
"Is there anything...you know, substantial that I could do?" 'Cause being useless sucks.
He turns to glare at her. "You're doing perfectly useful things right now, you just don't know it."
"Thanks," she mumbles. Somehow that doesn't make her feel any better.
They're in the middle of an epic battle with these creatures that look like they were regurgitated by the seatless toilets in the girl's bathroom when something occurs to Britta.
"What's your name?" she asks, ducking underneath a table in the study room.
"This is really, really not the time for formalities," he yells back, shaking the metal contraption in his hand. "No, no, no, don't die on me now!"
"But seriously, I need to call you something. Eeek!" she exclaims as she narrowly misses being impaled by something sharp and sticky.
"See! That's why we don't do formalities in the middle of an all out war," he says pointedly at her.
"I get your point," she grumbles, her hands over her head.
He bangs the metal thing against the floor a few times, which Britta is totally sure cannot be good for it at all.
He says something that she doesn't quite catch. She can't hear him over the gastrointestinal noises the aliens are making and the banging of the metal thing against the floor.
"What?" she asks, trying to scoot closer to him. She's almost hit by a bomb but manages to dodge it just in time. She falls over into his lap and bangs her head on something.
"Owww," she whines, rubbing her head. She looks up and sees his slightly amused expression, which makes her roll her eyes. "Thanks. I'm glad my pain is funny."
"I'm the Doctor, is what I said," he tells her. "Now get up, because I need to fix this and I certainly can't do it with you sprawled out all over me."
"Yeah, right," she says, and she sits up. Her head is still pounding and she wishes she just stayed home this morning.
Something occurs to her. "The Doctor of what?" she asks.
He gives her a look she can't quite read - is it of disappointment? "No, that's not right," he says, pouting. "You're supposed to ask, 'Doctor Who?' I like that bit."
"Yeah. This really isn't the time for formalities. You were right," she concedes, unable to conceal the layer of snark.
"Hah!" he yells, and she jumps.
"What? What?" she asks, looking around frantically.
"Fixed!" he proclaims triumphantly.
"Does that mean all of this will stop?" she asks.
He shrugs. "Dunno. Haven't tried it yet. Geronimo!" he yells as he throws the metal contraption over the desk barricade.
There's a weird pulse-y sound and burst of light, and when it's over Britta's pretty sure that she's not going to be able to see right for a week. "You blinded me, dumbass," she says.
She looks up, and she can see him poking his head above the table fort. "So?" she asks. "Do we have to run for our lives or what?"
He looks down at her, a smirk plastered on his features. "What did I tell you? It worked. You never should have doubted me."
"Doctor, if there's one thing I haven't done, it's doubted you," she tells him with a sigh of relief.
"So...do you want to come with me?" he asks her, standing in front of his weird blue box.
She smiles. "You know, I think I'm gonna pass on that one. But it was fun while it lasted," she tells him.
He nods, understanding. "Thank you for all of your help, Britta. I really couldn't have done it without you."
She looks up at him. "Yeah, right," she scoffs.
"Okay, maybe I could have."
She laughs, and stands on her toes to give him a hug. He reciprocates, and hugs her tightly.
"Well, goodbye," he says, and then opens the doors to the blue box. "You sure you don't want a peek inside?"
"Yeah, no. Thanks, though," she says. She's sure whatever's on the inside of that blue box is just as weird as everything that's happened all day.
He waves to her as he gets into the box, and then shuts the door. In a few seconds the wind blows and Britta's hair gets all messed up as the blue box starts to fade away.
She's not really surprised that it does that.
She doesn't wait for the blue box to reappear, because she's pretty sure it'll be back soon enough. Weird stuff just seems to gravitate towards Greendale.
Still, it doesn't mean that she won't miss him just a little.