Prompt: "Beca is drunk and acting really funny and weird, more so than usual, and accidentally tells Chloe she's like in love with her or something." For TacoBellForLife.

The Bellas have a few communal rules regarding partying and alcohol. One, Fat Amy must never be in charge of the liquor, nor should she ever get a hold of the key to the alcohol cabinet. Two, nobody drinks on a Friday. Nobody. Three, should Fat Amy find the key to the cabinet, Beca and the Legacy must be kept from her at all costs; as the former will gouge out her eyes and the latter will be "unchangeably tainted" by a drunk Fat Amy, according to Beca. Four, no girl is allowed to drink alone. If any Bella drinks alone, an intervention will be staged involving embarrassment for the drinker and potentially deep conversation and tears. Five, no Bella can drink and drive. Also, any Bella who allows another to drink and drive should share the punishment. And six, should anyone finish a bottle and not buy a new one within a week, they must buy two instead of one, to ensure a constant supply of common party boozes.

Beca doesn't really remember how it happened, but first she was crying on her bed, then Fat Amy was pushing a concoction into her hands and walking out, telling her she was staying at Bumper's. And good luck, she thinks, but her head is too fuzzy to really remember. Whatever she is consuming is hilariously alcoholic, probably one fifty proof. She's about four-fifths of the way through a drinking glass full of the stuff when a high pitched squeal behind her distracts her.

"Beca?" Chloe asks, walking slowly towards the highly inebriated girl. "Holy shit," she exclaimed, looking around Beca. It seems most of the liquor cabinet is resting in her cup. "I think you better stop drinking, Becs. Firstly, it's a Friday. Secondly, you're alone. If the girls catch you you're toast… I've never seen you like this before," she added, her nose scrunching up in worry as she analysed the girl's features.

Beca shrugs and takes another swig. "I'm not thaaat drunk." Beca slurred. "I'm thish drunk," she indicated a small amount with her fingers. "I can be waaay more drunks. More drunks!" She tried to click her fingers but failed, staring at them like a five year old would, eyes downcast. Whilst she felt the betrayal her fingers had lain on her, Chloe surreptitiously slipped the glass out of her hand and poured the contents into a water bottle which she slipped into her bag. She was ninety-five percent certain Beca had not produced this concoction, and she wanted evidence to present to the actual maker. She quickly refilled it and tucked it back where it was.

"Well, if you're not too drunk, can you finish that glass for me?" Chloe asked sweetly, nudging the drinking glass that reeked of alcohol but contained water.

"Yesh!" she half-shouted before she downed the rest of the glass in one go. "Tastes funny."

"That's because it's not full of alcohol. Come on, you need to go to bed."

"Nope."

"Come on, Becs."

"Nopedy-nope-nope."

"Now, Rebeca Mitchell, or I will call Aubrey."

"Whys you such a party poopers?" Beca exclaimed, slipping off the bar stool and flopping on the floor.

"Because I worry about you," Chloe whispered as she dragged Beca to her feet and up the stairs instinctively to her own room. Placing the girl on her bed, she turned around for half a second before Beca begins to groan. "Don't feel good, Chlo…"

She half walks, half stumbles to Chloe's bathroom, trailed by the girl in question. She is certain the room will smell of alcohol forever; or at least until she graduates. Rubbing soothing circles on the other girl's back, Chloe whispers alternately about how she is going to kill Fat Amy and that Beca's okay. The amount of alcohol being expelled from Beca frankly scares Chloe, and she briefly wonders if she needs to take Beca to the hospital.

That being said, she would have had to alert another Bella to get Beca anywhere near a car or a taxi, and an ambulance didn't exactly scream subtle. Judging the situation as best she could, she found that once Beca had practically dumped the entirety of a Seven Eleven liquor cabinet into her toilet; she was actually looking much better than expected.

"Chlo," Beca croaked, voice cracking from acid reflux, "drinky stuff… please…?"

Chloe obediently filled a glass with water and held it to the younger girl's lips. Allowing her a small sip, she told her to swill her mouth out before she drank any more. Beca, amazingly, obliged. "Hey Becs, can you tell me why you're getting drunk on a Friday night, alone?" Chloe probed quietly.

"Weeeeeeell…" Beca drew out the word, glancing around. "Maaybe. But you can't tell Chloe," she rushed out.

Chloe bit back a smile and nodded. "Sure, I won't tell Chloe." It wasn't exactly a lie, but could she call it a truth either?

"Amy found me out," she said sadly, picking at her nail. "I'm like, totes embarrassed-ded that she KNOWWS EVERYTHING." Her voice became serious, and it seemed some of the alcohol evaporated off her as she managed to sound more like a functioning human and less like a hammered college girl.

"What does she know?"

"I think that Chloe's cuute. Like, I wanna hug her and kisss her and like, have you seeeen her eyes lately? Like I get offended by them sometimess. Too pretty-ey."

Chloe laughed lightly, a blush creeping up her face. "Is that so? And so Fat Amy let you get drunk?" Beca nodded balefully. Beca glanced up at Chloe, a soft smile playing over her lips. "Imma kiss her. Imma kiss you, Chlo." And before Chloe could react, Beca kissed her, sloppily on the lips.

Fighting panic, Chloe managed to smoothly say, "Come on. Let's get you to your room," wanting nothing more than to get Beca out of her hair so she could think. Even as she thought this, she felt guilty. She dragged Beca to her room, tucking her into her bed on autopilot.

"Chlo…?" Beca groaned uncomfortably.

"Yes Beca?"

"Will you stay here? Pleeeease?"

Chloe felt torn. She knew Beca would question why she didn't stay the next day, but she really needed time to think about this. "No, Becs," she finally said slowly, "I have a paper I need to hand in. Get some sleep."

She retreated out of the room and shut the door, tormented.

-

Chloe woke up to a concerned brunette drifting in her periphery. "Beca?" Chloe mumbled, driving the sleep from her eyes as best she could.

"Hey." Beca grunted, voice deep from sleep and a hangover. "What happened last night?"

Chloe felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach. Beca didn't remember anything. It was to be expected really, she had drunk nearly her weight in spirits. "You got very drunk and threw up in my toilet and I dragged you to your bed and put you to sleep," Chloe said curtly, throwing the duvet up off her body. She was still wearing what she wore last night.

"But you usually stay with me if I've drunk too much," Beca whispered, desperately seeking Chloe's eyes. "You always stay with me. Why didn't you stay last night?"

Chloe sighed, exasperated, before snapping, "You kissed me, Beca." Running her hands through her hair, she refused to face the girl. "You kissed me."

Beca groaned, the sound of her hand hitting her forehead seemed to echo in the room. "Jeez, I'm just going to immigrate to West Africa now and die in a hole. Just, my god. I'm sorry Chloe. I was drunk and I didn't mean it and I-,"

Chloe turned around, and Beca was startled to see tears in her eyes. "You didn't mean it?" she questions, a hint of desperation in her voice, but for which outcome Beca couldn't tell. "You didn't mean to kiss me? And you didn't mean any of what you said last night? Don't try to lie to me Beca, just tell me the truth. Did you mean it?"

Beca swallows hard, and Chloe watches her nervous eyes darting about the room, fixing on anything before darting away again; avoiding the one person in the room. A long pause hangs over the room. Chloe can feel the seconds dragging on her skin, forcing her to remain there in that moment. Finally, finally, Beca clears her throat.

"I, uh… Chloe." Saying her friend's name seems to ground her a bit, and she swallows hard again. Draws a shaky breath. Manages to look Chloe in the eye. Steps a little closer to her.

"I'm sorry for what happened last night. I'm sorry-." As Chloe made a move to interject, she waves her off. "No, don't interrupt me. Please. I, uh, I was drinking because," again she takes a long slow breath, inhaling through her nose and exhaling from her mouth. "I got myself drunk because I wanted something I couldn't have. Someone I couldn't have."

It seemed Beca had moved closer to Chloe, or maybe Chloe had shuffled nearer, but either way, Chloe was close enough to see the taut lines of Beca's knitted brow; in much the same way Beca could clearly see the drying tear tracks tracing their way down Chloe's face.

Chloe found herself wondering about what Beca was thinking. She didn't have to wait long to find out. "I didn't want this to happen," Beca breathed quietly.

Chloe backed away hurriedly, a blush staining her cheeks. "It's okay, Becs. It was an accident. Yeah, no, don't worry at all. I'll totes be here if you need me. Totes." She smiled her usual cheerful smile, but was interrupted by a fresh stream of tears.

Beca took a few steps to bring herself back to being just in front of Chloe. "I'm not doing so well with this whole communication thing." A shaky laugh. "What I meant was, I didn't want this to happen, um, like this. I wanted this to happen like this."

And then Beca pressed her lips to Chloe's. Shy, unassuming Beca, who hated social contact, initiated a kiss with Chloe Beale for the second time in under twenty-four hours. She was stunned for about two seconds, enough for Beca to pull back, gnawing on her lip. "Did I like, totally misread that?"

"No," Chloe breathes, trying to control her heart rate. "No, you definitely didn't." She then closed her eyes to really kiss Beca. Kiss her properly. She could taste the alcohol on Beca's lips even then, feel every tiny, inaudible gasp released when Chloe did something unexpected.

When Beca gently pulled back from Chloe's insistent, almost needy kiss, her hair was tousled and her breathing uneven. "I, uh, I guess that means you like me?"

Even in her current state, Chloe found she had to laugh, gently slapping the younger girl on the head before resting their foreheads together.

"Yes, I do. I might even be a little bit in love with you."