Author's note: I'm really nervous. I haven't published anything in over four years. I've been working on this since January last year, desperate to give Jesse and Beca their happy "ending." I know it's just another fic in the post-PP3 bunch, but can you ever really get enough of those? I know I can't. I struggled a lot with the ending. I ended with three ideas. I couldn't finish the first one. The second one got too long. I just wanted to end it with a sweet moment. Then finally a third idea popped into my head and that is what made it to the final result. Warning: It might be a little sappy. Depending on who you ask, I think.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, Jesse and Beca would've still been together in the third movie. I think a long-distance relationship would've been interesting to see.

I'm gonna get me some happy

I am so late, Jesse thinks to himself as he heads down the street in a run, dodging other pedestrians, uttering hurried "sorry"s and "excuse me"s as he disappears further into the crowd.

For the past two months he's been working on a purely instrumental soundtrack for a new indie film that has the potential to be nominated for several awards and Jesse couldn't be more excited about it. Two weeks ago, the director of the movie had suddenly changed her mind about not including lyrics for any of the songs. So, her assistant had then e-mailed him, asking for lyrics for the main theme to play during the final credits. It's all very James Cameron and Titanic.

He'd slept through his alarm, traffic had been awful getting here and on top of that, the closest parking spot he found was two blocks away. So, when he finally enters the building, he's embarrassingly late.

He's excited to meet the artist. She's new in the business, been on tour with DJ Khaled and that's really all he knows about her. He's putting his phone on silent as he's about to step into the studio when the singer starts up again after an instrumental break, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He knows that voice. He turns the corner, entering the room, and his heart starts beating erratically in his chest as his eyes confirm what he hears.

Beca is in the booth, wearing headphones and singing into the mic. Her eyes are closed, so she doesn't see him gaping at her. His eyes are glazed over with amazement. God, he has missed that voice. And god, has he missed her.

She's standing there, looking like a star in a pair of ripped black skinny high-waisted jeans and a tight black lace-up shirt with sleeves to her elbows tucked in. A red tweed jacket slash vest with way too many zippers – looking a lot like the one she'd bought on their road trip back to Olympia and Seattle after junior year – is draped over the beige leather bar stool behind her. Her hair is parted in the middle and straightened sloppily, so you can still see some of her curls.

When the song starts to fade out and there are no more lyrics left to sing, Beca opens her eyes and spots Jesse almost immediately. For a few seconds, as the song ends, they just stare at each other. They haven't seen each other since they broke up two years ago when the distance became too much for them.

She breaks their stare. "Can we take five?" she asks and the producer nods, waving her out.

She closes her eyes for a few seconds as she takes the headphones off and hangs them back on the mic. She breathes in deeply, running a hand through her hair and exhales as she leaves the booth. She supposes that she'd run into him at some point in this business.

She had honestly thought that she'd never see him again, though. She's caught completely off guard and has no idea what she's going to say to him, or what he's going to say to her. They haven't talked in almost a year. Not since his girlfriend contacted her and told her to stop talking to Jesse.

It's not like they'd even talked that often. It had just been sporadic checking ins, usually followed up by news about something or other. Sometimes they'd talked about things they couldn't talk about with anyone else. They had used each other for things like that a lot.

But not wanting to get into an argument with his girlfriend she had decided to cut all ties with him. He, of course, kept texting her for a while until he eventually got the hint.

Beca assumed that his girlfriend never told him that she'd confronted her about them still keeping touch. At least that's what she hopes. She can't imagine that Jesse would stop talking to a friend – ex or not – just because his girlfriend said so. Not that he did. Not for a good while after she stopped replying.

She knows it was rude of her to just ignore him, but had she said something along the lines of having to let him go, it would've spurred on a deep, emotional conversation that she'd just not wanted to have.

"Hey," she says softly as she timidly walks up to him, her three-inch black ankle boots making her look just that much taller.

"Hey," he says with a small smile.

As they walk into the hall she points towards the booth with her thumb. "Is that your song?"

He nods. "Yeah," he answers. "Well, uh, I composed it. Derek wrote the lyrics."

Beca just nods. Her stomach is in knots, there's a painful flutter in her chest and she feels like she's going to throw up. She's angry with herself for allowing him to make her feel like this when she's in his presence. She thought she'd gotten over him, but seeing him now, standing in front of him, she realizes that there are still feelings lingering inside her. Strong feelings and it hurts. If only she could leave. Destiny is really pure evil for leading her here, to this studio, to this project.

Jesse gestures toward the kitchen in suggestion. Beca nods again and walks ahead of him. Her eyes close again for a few seconds, causing her to almost walk right into the doorframe of the kitchen. She would have if she hadn't opened her eyes at the last second. Idiot, she thinks to herself. After the initial shock of nearly getting knocked out, she feels his supportive hand on her back and almost jumps out of her skin. She does, however, move away from his touch. She hopes she did it discretely.

She heads straight for the coffee pot and raises it to his view in a way of asking if he wants some. He nods and she turns around to grab two to-go cups from the counter. She pours and hands him one before reaching for the tea for herself. She finds herself wishing she had some rum to add to the hot beverage. Instead she reaches for a sugar cube and stirs with a plastic teaspoon. She turns back around to face him and looks at him for a few seconds before taking a sip. He drinks as well.

He clears his throat after he swallows. "How did you end up as a singer?"

She blinks and shifts her position, supporting her weight on both her feet. "Oh, uh, long story," she said and chuckled nervously. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. "Okay. Quick version. I met with the Bellas a few months ago and Aubrey brought up this idea about going on a U.S.O. tour in Europe. I had just quit my job and I needed something to do."

She doesn't notice the somber look that appears on his face at that particular info. That job had been the reason why the long-distance thing got prolonged and started to seem never-ending. It had been a great opportunity for her to work at an indie label with no one else but the boss. She wouldn't have had to fight to become a music producer anymore; she'd already be one on her first day. So, he'd told her he'd support whatever decision she made. It eventually led them to break up.

"So, we went and apparently there was a competition. The winner would go on tour with DJ Khaled and get a record deal." She raises her shoulders as she says, "They wanted me."

"And what about you? Do you want it?" he asks.

Classic Jesse, she thinks and almost smiles. (She's gotta be careful about that around him.) He always did make sure that she didn't do anything she didn't want to do, things that other people thought she should do. Well, except for forcing – though not really forcing – the moviecation on her.

"Actually, yeah. It took knocking some sense into me at first, but yeah. I like it." She pauses to take a sip of her tea. "And it got me here. To L.A. Finally," she adds and smiles slightly. She unwillingly starts imagining how happy they would've both been if they were still together, happy to finally get to be really together again. "And producing my music is part of my contract, so I get an input."

Just then Derek the lyricist joins them in the kitchen. "Hey, man, what's up?" he greets Jesse, taking his hand and claps his shoulder as he heads for the coffee. "You two know each other?" he asks, looking between the two as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah," Jesse answers and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a glance at Beca. "We dated in college and for a while after." And were crazy in love, he added in his head, though Beca would never admit to the crazy part.

The lyricist nods. "Huh. Interesting," he says and continues glancing from one to the other and back again. "Did it end badly?" he asks and, with his hands defensively raised into the air, he quickly adds, "I'm only asking because we have to work together on this thing."

The two exes just look at him in disbelief with Beca giving him her signature death glare. Jesse knows that if she didn't have to work with Derek, she would have called him out on invading on their personal life in a not so professional way. It's none of his business, and even if there were any lingering issues between them, it was up to them to handle it, to keep things professional.

It takes Derek a full minute before he gets the sense of the situation, the awkwardness.

"Right, uh… I'll leave you two to it then."

Once Derek has left the kitchen, Jesse asks, "Do they know that you hate movies?" with an amused smile.

Beca opens her mouth to answer, but the producer pokes his head into the kitchen and waves them back to the studio.

xx

When she went back into the booth, she sang with a new edge in her voice. Everyone in the studio loved it. They didn't know what had changed, but something had and those takes were the ones that made it to the final cut.

Beca knew exactly why it sounded different all of a sudden, though. It was because of Jesse. It was seeing him, realizing that her feelings for him never faded that had brought it in her. It made her feel the lyrics – to a stupid, stupid typical movie love song – more and it showed on the track. She just hoped that Jesse didn't see it.

xx

They decide to catch up when they're done and end up on a bench in the little private courtyard in the back of the label's red-brick building. The sky is bright blue, the sun is shining right above the quad and it's hot as hell, but neither one suggests going somewhere else. They want the privacy and they won't be able to get that in a coffee shop or diner or bar, and Beca definitely does not want to go to his apartment. She's not about to risk running into his bitch of a girlfriend. So, they stay where they are and put up with the heat.

Beca is leaned over, her arms resting on her knees, and holding a to-go cup between both her hands. Jesse is resting against the backrest of the bench and won't stop looking at her, trying to figure out her thoughts. She, however, refuses to look at him.

She swallows and clears her throat before breaking the tense silence. "Have you ever wondered where we'd be if I had gotten a job here after graduation?" she asks finally while fidgeting with the lid of her coffee.

She doesn't know why she asks him this. Does she really want to know the answer? What would it even give her? She had just started to wonder why they were even there if they weren't going to talk. And it has always kind of been on her mind.

He takes a sip of his coffee, taking the time to debate whether to tell her the truth. It won't benefit either of them to exchange thoughts about how they imagined what their lives would be like if they were still together. Theoretically – maybe even realistically – speaking, would they still be together? He's always wanted to be with her and he wants her to know that. He'd always done his best to convince her while they were together, but sometimes her insecurities about love and relationships had kept her from believing him. He never stopped telling her though. And he won't now.

He clears his throat and nods, before becoming aware that she can't see it with her back to him. "I have," he tells her. She looks at him, moving only her head in his direction, daring him to continue. "I like to think that we'd still be together."

Like. Present tense, she notices and gets confused. He has a girlfriend.

"Maybe we would even be living together. And maybe have a dog," he says with a smile. Beca looks back down at her coffee. His smile disappears. "I miss you, Becs," he admits and fights the urge to lean forward to touch her arm.

Miss, she notes, not missed. What is it with him and his present tense speaking in regards to her when he's dating, living with someone? She looks at him again, meeting his eyes. "Yeah, I miss you, too." Present tense, she takes notice of her own admission.

She thinks back to when they'd said goodbye to each other at LAX. Well, "see you." They both hate the G-word. It had been a lie, though. They'd both known they were never going to see each other again. "Don't you forget about me," he'd called after her. That had broken her, but somehow, she'd still gotten herself to turn and smile bravely as she had repeated the words back to him. She'd made it through security and could just barely make a turnaround to wave at him before she'd felt the panic taking over.

She remembers calling Chloe, asking if she could pick her up from the airport on the other side. She'd started having trouble breathing, so Chloe had had to coach her through the phone. "I wanna keep trying," she remembers saying, but also nodding at her friend's words. It wouldn't have changed anything. It would've kept being hard to be together, but apart and apart, but together.

She remembers sitting crouched down in a corner, her face buried in her knees as Chloe had tried to calm her down through the phone. She'd even almost missed her flight, just barely making it to the terminal.

She looks away, hiding her eyes that she's willing with everything in her to not start watering at the memory. First into the distance, but then drops her gaze to the cup in her hands, her eyes clouded over with sadness. God, she hates herself for not having gotten over him even the slightest bit.

"What about you?" Jesse asks.

"What?" she says genuinely confused. She'd gotten lost in her thoughts.

"Have you ever wondered where we'd be?"

She's never been good with imaginations. They never lived up to her expectations. Sometimes that was a good thing – like when she never imagined that she'd ever date Jesse – and sometimes it wasn't – like when she'd imagined moving to L.A. with him. What he just described a minute ago, though, sounds pretty damn good.

She clears her throat. "I don't know if I ever imagined our life, but," she starts and pauses, taking a moment to think about how best to describe what she had felt back then. What she still feels. "I've definitely thought that-" She has to clear her throat again and inwardly curses at the stubborn lump she's trying so desperately to get rid of. "If we'd just tried harder and been more patient, we wouldn't have broken up."

Especially now, she adds in her head. Especially now that she's finally moving to L.A. It's too late.

"How's it going with Maggie?" she asks, wanting to take the focus off their failed relationship. She really couldn't care less about his relationship with Maggie, but the sounds of the busy city on the other side of the building got deafening.

Jesse shakes his head. "Didn't work out."

Beca's eyes widen and it takes all of her self-control to keep herself from shooting her head in his direction. That she really hadn't expected. Did Maggie tell him about the confrontation after all? No. No, he would've reached out to her when he found out. He would've mentioned it in one of his texts, wouldn't he? She always read them; she just didn't respond.

"I didn't know if I should try reaching out to you again to tell you after not getting any responses from you for weeks, but, um, we broke up shortly after I moved in."

She remembers him telling her that he was getting kicked out of the room he was renting at some guy's apartment. The guy's girlfriend was moving in and she didn't want a so-called stranger living in her home. And judging by the magazines lying on pretty much every table and countertop in the apartment, she apparently also had plans to turn his room into a nursery.

On the short notice, Jesse had trouble finding an apartment he could afford, so Maggie had offered him to move in. They'd only been together for four months and not only did it feel like they were moving way too fast, it also felt really wrong. But with no other option, he'd had to accept.

Jesse doesn't know what to make of her silence. He can't read her as well as he used to anymore. Whether it's because he's forgotten how to or she's more closed off than ever, he doesn't know, but he really wants a reaction, a response from her.

"Oh," she finally says. She narrows her eyes in a frown and looks at him for a second. "I don't really know what to say to that."

He shrugs. "There's not really anything to say. It felt wrong." Everything with Beca had felt right. Except their break-up.

Beca digs her nails into her coffee cup, drawing random lines, and keeps her face hidden from him. Which part felt wrong? His relationship with Maggie? Their moving in together? Their break-up? What? She really wants to know, but at the same time doesn't feel like she can ask. At least not without making it seem like she's digging to find out if there's a second chance for them. She doesn't want him to know that she still has feelings for him if he doesn't still have feelings for her, too.

He throws his empty coffee cup into the trash can next to the bench. "Are you seeing anybody?" he asks after a while.

She turns and meets his eyes. There's her answer. He wants another chance, too.

She licks her lips before shaking her head and lets out a breath in anticipation. "No."

He waits for a few seconds before slowly moving his left hand to her back, gently running his fingertips across and up and down her spine. He's asking her and she looks to be waiting.

Suddenly it's like they're back in her dorm room freshman year, watching – well, not watching – the ending of The Breakfast Club. He'd leaned in, she'd leaned away. So, he tells himself now that he's not going to be the only one making a move this time. He's not about to pull her in just to have her pull back again. So, he waits.

He thinks he's imagining it when he sees her drawing closer, but when their lips finally lock, there's no doubt and it feels like heaven. It's so much like their first kiss, except this isn't while being surrounded by hundreds of people. So, when they move in a second time, they don't pull away again, allowing it to deepen.

Beca reaches behind her to set her coffee cup down and moves her arms around Jesse's neck. His hands move to the back of her neck and around to her lower back, pulling her so close that she's almost in his lap.

They're intoxicated, reveling in the other's taste, smell, feel. It's fast and hungry at first, but then they slow things down, both wanting to feel more than just passion. Their lips are tingling and stretched into smiles whenever they pull away to catch a breath.

She suddenly stops her lip movements and pulls away, their lips plopping as they part, leaving them both panting, and leans her forehead against his. She drops her hands to his shoulders and licks her now red lips.

"What are we doing?" she asks in a whisper.

"Getting back together?"

She pulls her head away to look at him. "And it's not going to be a rebound thing, right? Because if it is-"

"No," he says, interrupting her and moves his left hand to the side of her neck, holding on, keeping her in the moment. "As awful as it sounds, Maggie was. I never got over you, Beca. She could tell and she got tired of trying to get me to get over you, so she ended things. I didn't deny what she said and I didn't fight against the break-up either."

She nods in understanding as she moves her gaze to a palm tree planted in the corner of the small courtyard in thought. Guess Maggie really didn't tell him, she thinks. She doesn't know if she should tell him, though. She doesn't want to keep things from him, but is there really any reason to bring it up? Does it even matter?

He brings his other hand up, so both his hands are on the sides of her neck, and pulls gently to bring her gaze back to his.

"I should have. With you."

She smiles sadly, looking down as she takes his hands in hers and moves them to her lap. "We both should have," she says in a soft voice, recalling the many days and nights she felt her heart break into more and more pieces until she was sure there weren't any left.

"But we can really do this now," he says and squeezes her hands, curling his fingers around hers. "We're Jesseca, remember?" She wraps her fingers around his and laughs, making him laugh, too. Her laughter has always been infectious and, wow, he's missed it. "What?"

"Still using that, are we?" She shakes her head and smiles in amusement as she moves her head back up to look at him. "You're such a weirdo."

He smirks. "Oh, just admit it. It's what you love most about me." It's out of his mouth like that. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head into his right hand. She is awkwardly silent and he curses himself. "Okay, please, forget I said that."

She pinches her lips together and narrows her eyes, but she doesn't let go of his hand and he takes that as a good sign. She doesn't want things to become awkward between them already, so with her free hand on his cheek, she pulls him close and presses her lips to his in a chaste kiss.

"It's one of your better features, I'll admit that," she jokes and remembers a card he gave her on their first Valentine's Day. "What's that quote that was on the card you gave me once? 'If you're lucky enough to find a weirdo, -"

"'Never let them go,'" he finishes.

She chuckles. "Wasn't that a mistake?" she jokes in all seriousness.

"The biggest."

Never again.

"What's with the Treble hoodie?" she teases with an amused smile, shooting a glance at the red sweater draped over the back of the bench.

He chuckles and looks at it and then down at himself. Old blue jeans, a boring dark grey T-shirt and the hoodie from his time as an a cappella singer. He does not look like someone who could be walking down the street holding Beca's hand in his.

"I slept through my alarm and I just grabbed the first thing my hand found on my coat rack." He leans towards her in challenge. "But seriously, you can't tell me that you don't still have your Bella uniform hanging at home," he shoots back with a grin.

"Maybe." She gives the hoodie a once-over. "But I don't wear it."

They're both well aware that there's a big difference between their a cappella uniforms. Wearing an old hoodie is not the same as wearing a flight attendant costume, despite the fact that Chloe sometimes wears hers underneath her scrubs. But they wouldn't be Jesseca if they didn't tease each other.

"Not even the scarf tied around your wrist?"

She doesn't tell him that she doesn't just have one scarf; she has several. One had been sewn into a pillowcase by Chloe. (The redhead had felt nostalgic one day and "couldn't help it.") A second, third and fourth were tied together and neatly wrapped around the arch on her iron headboard of her bed and a fifth was draped over a lampshade. A scarf for each year she'd been a Bella in college and one to symbolize her last time as one, the U.S.O. tour that she'd gotten Emily to mail to her.

"Not even."

He'll know soon enough.

A man suddenly hollers at them that if they don't want to spend the night in the courtyard, they should probably get going since he's locking up the front gate. It's not until then they notice the pink and orange clouds in the sky. They decide to get some take-out and head to Jesse's place to eat.

They eat Chinese on his living room floor next to his coffee table. When some sweet and sour sauce ends up below Beca's bottom lip – and she hasn't noticed – Jesse goes all Hollywood on her and kisses it off. Rolling her eyes at his corniness, she kisses him back and deepens it just as he's about to pull away. He really should've known better. With wine in her system, the simplest of kisses could get her going. Wine has always been the most effective aphrodisiac on her.

Dinner is soon forgotten and instead it turns into this,

"Do you-oh, mm, do you have," she barely gets out between moans and kisses when she feels him get hard underneath her.

"Mm-hmm," he murmurs against her lips and groans when she grinds herself against him.

"Get it," she breathes as she pushes off him and lets him get to his feet.

xx

"Why did I know that this was going to happen?" Beca asks, lying naked on Jesse's living room floor with a just as naked Jesse beside her, her arms above her head and fingers buried in her hair.

"Because I'm irresistible?" he says with a grin that she can't see.

She chuckles slightly. "Is this," she starts after a minute's silence. "Are we starting this right?" He looks at her. She meets his eyes and moves her left hand to her stomach, so she can see him properly, keeping her right on her head. "I mean, should we have started over? Or is picking up right where we left off two years ago really the right way to do this?" She's genuinely worried that jumping right into it could be too much for them.

"I don't know," he says truthfully. "But I honestly don't think it matters how we start this. If you think about it, two years isn't that long. It's less than half of the time we were together. And I doubt that we've forgotten what it's like to be together. We know each other so well. Better than anyone else does. That's why we kept in touch. Well, until last year."

She looks back up at the ceiling. "Yeah, about that-"

"You don't have to explain."

She wants to, she's realized. She wants him to know that she never, by her own choice, would've just stopped talking to him. Sure, she could've told him about Maggie's confrontation back then, but she really hadn't wanted to get between them. She hadn't wanted to be the cause of a fight or a potential break-up. She wanted Jesse to be happy, so she left him alone, thinking it was for the best. Who keeps in touch with their ex anyway?

"I'm sure you had your reasons," he says and looks at her hand splayed on her stomach before taking it in his. It's icy to the touch. "Are you cold?"

She frowns and looks at the hand he's holding. She hadn't noticed. She'd been too wrapped up in her thoughts. She moves her other hand to her cheek and can feel how cold it is. She shivers then, looks at him and nods. He places a kiss to her temple and sits up, beckons for her other hand and pulls her up with him as he stands.

It's been two years since the last time she was naked in front of him, but she doesn't make a move to grab the blanket on the couch. She's never been ashamed of her body with Jesse. He, the gentleman that he is though, does grab it and wraps it around her shoulders.

"I'm just gonna go put these in the fridge," he says, motioning to the open containers of Chinese food they'd abandoned in favor of something a lot more pleasurable. "You can just go in and lie down. I'll be there in a minute." He points her in the right direction with a soft smile.

"Okay," she says and returns his smile.

When he finally enters his bedroom, she looks to be asleep and he can't help but smile at the sight of her in his bed again. Different bed, but his bed nonetheless.

This is it. This is what he's wanted ever since freshman year. A life with her. The life he'd thought they'd given up on. And he can't wait to get back to where they were before he had to leave for the West Coast. To before he'd even started considering going to film school.

He gets under the covers and as he's about to turn over to spoon her, she moves and settles up against him, lying half on top of him and tucking a leg between both of his. She tangles their fingers – his palm against the back of her hand – and places their joined hands above his heart. He kisses the top of her head as he wraps his free arm around her waist before falling asleep.

xx

Beca wakes up the next morning to the sound of her singing coming from the living room. She gets up, wraps the blanket from the night before around her shoulders to protect her from the cold and leaves the room. She stops by the entrance to the living room and leans against the doorframe, staring at Jesse. He's sitting on his dark blue couch in nothing but a pair of red boxers, watching her perform the George Michael hit Freedom '90 with the other Bellas on his laptop.

She admires him and even from afar she can see the smile in his eyes. He's so enthralled in watching her perform on his computer screen that he doesn't see her. She's amazed, really, by everything happening in her life. Who knew that an innocent Bellas tour to Europe would lead to a record deal and that that record deal would lead the way to a second chance with Jesse?

After hearing the second "Now I'm gonna get me some happy" of the song, she pushes off the doorframe and makes her way to couch. She's happy. And she's gonna show him.

She stops in front of him, blocking his vision to the screen and reaches a hand down to close the laptop, before letting the blanket drop. Moving like a cheetah she grabs the sides of his neck and crashes her lips to his, kissing him fervently, as she moves to straddle him. He responds in kind and moves his hands to her hips, pulling her closer.

It's a rush and it seems that they can't get enough of each other. Even more so than the night before. Last night they'd been getting reacquainted. Now the fire is reignited.

He ends their kiss and touches his forehead to hers. "Bec," he starts, struggling to regain his breath. "I know I shouldn't say this, but…" He leans back to look her in the eyes, hoping she won't shy away – she doesn't – and brushes her hair over her shoulders. "I never stopped, you know?"

She moves her hands down to his chest, feeling his heart race against her right palm. "I know," she says and lets out a shaky breath. I can do it, she thinks to herself and smiles nervously for a second. She swallows and leans her forehead back against his. "Me neither," she whispers, her own heart racing, in tune with his.

He knows it wasn't easy for her to say that when it's been less than twenty-four hours since they got back together. It took her over a year after they got together – four months and five days after he'd uttered the words – to say them back to him. It wouldn't have surprised him if it would've taken her even longer this time around.

He also knows that she hadn't said it if she hadn't wanted to or out of a sense of obligation because he'd said it. No. She'd said it in order to slowly teach herself to say those words again, to admit them.

He grins. "I know."

At first I'd written that Jesse imagined he and Beca would have a cat (I would've asked readers to forget that he had one with his girlfriend) because I saw Beca as more of a cat-person than a dog-person. But a little while ago I was watching Friends with a friend. It was the episode where Ross and Julie decide to get a cat. Sarcastically I asked what the deal was with couples getting a cat (Ross and Julie and Jesse and whats's-her-name). She said that it was less commitment than getting a dog and I knew that I had to put that in instead of a cat.

Thanks for taking your time to read this. I hope you liked it and that you'll review.