We Flood Empty Lakes

by WickedFan97

It takes several moments in someone's life to discover something about someone. It takes Beca over a year to realize and it takes Aubrey a year to come to terms. "Because everyone contained certain depths to them, almost like lakes; Beca was fairly certain that Aubrey was on the shallow end." Slightly AU, from the beginning. Beca/Aubrey. Rated M.

Author's Note; I'm going to keep this relatively simple. I saw Pitch Perfect with my friends in theatres and thought it was oustanding. And while my thoughts immediately shifted onto Chloe/Beca and their ridiculous chemistry, over time I've been shifting onto the pairing of Aubrey/Beca; for whatever reason, because it honestly beats me.

I'm working on another story of mine in the HP universe, and my update for that is almost completed. The new chapter I have is ridiculously long and I felt I needed a quick shift; a breath of fresh air so I didn't get burnt out on my own story. And I thought that perhaps a little Mitchsen would do me some good.

Universe: Pitch Perfect

Pairing: Beca/Aubrey; hints of Beca/Chloe, Beca/Jesse, Fat Amy/Bumper, and Stacie/Several Trebles.

Rating: M, for strong language and strong hints of sex

Copyrights: I own absolutely nothing pertaining to this movie; the characters, story, and everything else go to Universal and the director of the film. Guess you can't sue me now assholes.

R&R, and let me know if I should continue on in this fandom in the future. Constructive Criticisms welcome and all mistakes are mine. No Beta.

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{We Flood Empty Lakes};Yndi Halda

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It takes several moments in a person's life to truly grasp the big picture; when it concerns another human being, it takes even more than that.

And, well, Beca's outstanding talent at obliviousness really put that automatically to shit. It was that, but it was also the obvious fact that she didn't necessarily want to get a grasp on others at all. She had always gotten through her life with her music and with her unflinching stubborness and sarcasm; why would anyone need anything else? Of course she wasn't a complete emotional wreck with no sense of sympathy and basic human emotions, because she was a human being on this planet infected with complete and utter morons, after all. And she didn't go through high school with absolutely no friends and just a 'I am lonely' sticker on her deeply artistic and grunge-worthy binder that she walked with from day to day; it was contrary to popular belief.

She had a few friends in a high school. They respected personal boundaries and didn't ask anything about her inner thoughts or personal didn't attend football games or rant about boys while they painted their nails, but it had been all perfectly fine with Beca. It had worked for her and it was something that was easily known; she learned very quickly to stick with what you were good at. And she realized her sophomore year of high school that what she was good at was most definitely music.

The boy she had lost her virginity to in her senior year was actually the one who inspired her.

They hadn't been anything serious; she was just discovering her talents at mixing sounds and inventing new techniques. And he had been focused on getting his band started and hopefully up and running to Los Angeles by the time that they had both graduated; their maroon graduation caps would litter the sky in chaos and he would be gone within a day with his bandmates.

And she had remembered looking at the Daft Punk and M83 posters adorning his wall as he had thrusted into her one night.

Which, by the way, she had never understood the big deal about sex. It had always kept her rather disinterested; she would just lie there and think up new ways to blend certain songs together, unintentionally matching her thrusts to the tempo within her own mind. But alas, it was the posters and Matt's ranting about certain artists - like David Guetta - that had made her beyond inquisitive. So she had gotten on her new laptop and had explored a whole new world of sound for hours on end. And before Matt took off in his cliche 'on the road' van with his buddies and sporting a childish grin, he had given her his old mixing materials.

Including his laptop, which she had always secretly loved.

The kiss she had delivered on his lips had been nothing short of genuine, and his, "You're always welcome in LA," was spoken with sincerity.

They weren't serious or anything, but she didn't try and lie to herself when she felt a soft pang in her chest as she watched the van drive off in the distance. And from then on Los Angeles had been her number one goal for the entire summer. Her mother had always been extremely supportive of her choice, her bright blue eyes shining with enthusiasm whenever Beca passionately described a new mix she was working on. She had even gotten a part time job saving up for her inevitable trip to Los Angeles. She honestly didn't blame her mother for not having the funds to support her dream; while they weren't poor by any means, they certainly didn't live in the wealthy parts of Charlotte and drive a Mercedes-Benz, either.

But with the raw determination in her mother's eyes and the thoughtful way she opened up an account just for Beca's traveling funds, she wasn't complaining one bit.

After the divorce between her parents when she was ten, it had been a rather unstable affair. Her mother had of course been furious with her emotionally detached father; he would come home from working at the university all strung out and completely devoid of all genuine affection. His lips would be downturned when her mother wasn't looking; his hazel brown eyes had lost their spark of enthusiasm for life and his toffee colored hair almost seemed to be losing its fine sheen. A young Beca didn't know what depression and anxiety disorders were, but she would quickly discover it with both respective parents.

It wasn't to the point where anyone got physically hurt; she had seen those case file things on television when her mother was feeling particularly masochistic. She had immediately surmised that it could've been a lot more worse. It was most definitely not a walk in the park, though.

She remembers her lips trembling when her mother had come home from her office shift completely shit-faced.

She had been eleven at the time. She had bravely decided to walk those four blocks to her house when school had let out and her mother had not been there to pick her up. She - even to this very day - could recount watching the hands move on the clock every single second; the neverending ticks while the teacher stared disapprovingly and curiously at the back of her head were forever burned with her. The teacher had sighed with obvious disdain when the clock showed that school ended more than an hour previous; the parking lot still remained empty except for the faculty.

"I can get home by myself, Mr. Davis," she mumbled, tightening her backpack and hoping the distraught teacher didn't see her tears.

A confused Beca had cradled her mother when the woman came home sobbing hysterically; the woman had drawn in on herself, with her posture screaming defeat and her bright blue eyes screaming with guilt. She had been beside herself with guilt and self-mortification, grasping her daughter's dark purple t-shirt and begging for forgiveness. Babbles of apologies and almost indecipherable words of love had rang through her head.

Her mother had stopped all of that nonsense when Beca turned twelve, accepting that her husband wasn't coming back and that it was her and her daughter from then on.

If Beca felt absolutely anything for anyone at all, it was a never-ending respect for her mother.

And a complete and obvious disdain for her absentee father; her mother had agreed with her one night and didn't even stop Beca from her verbal-bashing. The woman just sipped at her red wine and hummed in a mutual agreement, chewing slowly and purposely on her quickly made spaghetti, obviously not wanting to throw her own two cents into the fucked up mix. And it wasn't long before the subject would change and her mom would ask how school was going or how her mixes and funding for Los Angeles were coming along. It made a slow warmth envelope Beca's chest, because no disinterest was present in her mother's voice.

Just an unwavering support and an unconditional type of love. It was enough to where Beca had torn up her father's new number in junior year, with his brand new cheerfulness and her new stepmother's snobbish persona and cold eyes making a path throughout her jumbled mind. Screw him and his self-righteousness, she remembered thinking at that point. She would be at the opposite coast making a name for herself and doing something she was passionate about; no false emotions or misplaced concern would bother her there.

Until she got that fucking phone call.

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Barden University could really suck her dick.

Between her roommate Kimmy Jin being a total - most likely, probably - psychopath with her dark glares and her overall stiff demeanor, and her father agitatedly meddling into her college business, it was beginning to be rather oblique around this small - albeit - preppy campus. It came to the point where Beca didn't even really survey anything at all anymore; the only things she really noticed was the somewhat peaceful quad and the small but quaint radio station that she was interning at. The smell of the vinyl and dust along with the soothing sounds of Luke's accent announcing the music was the only stable thing she really had.

She could ignore Jesse's interest and slight childish curiosity when it came to herself, and she could ignore her Intro Philosophy 101 professor being totally incompetent.

She could even ignore bitchy blondes judging her before they knew her and bubbly redheads bursting into her shower stall and demanding that she sing for her. Which she was completely and unsettlingly in the nude, she might add. It made her respect and even miss her old friends from high school; they had personal boundaries. They had never attempted to scale the titanium fence that she surrounded herself with on a daily basis. She had only been here a week and she was already worried she was not going to escape this experience one hundred percent sane.

Her sanity was being questioned at this very moment.

Because really, what the hell was she doing here?

Oh, that's right. 'Because I want to see you actually try here, Beca. I want to see some actual effort on your part.'

That's the conversation that was making her breath hitch and her eyes dart around slightly nervously. She was perfectly fine staying off to the side of the stage, surveying all of the hopeful joiners of this - admittedly, lame - current acapella sensation. She could only just tilt her head in complete doubt, watching as over half of the people were making utter fools of themselves. There were a few who seemed genuinely talented however, and it made Beca slightly wonder why they were here of all places and not out trying to make it in New York or Los Angeles; even a more musically inclined school would have made more sense, despite Barden's slight musical reputation.

But she quickly realized that not everyone was as confident in their own musical skills like she was. She realized that maybe some people just did it for the rush; the adrenaline pumping through their vains as they took notice of spectators that were watching them perform right before their very eyes. One lanky guy - if not a little dorky - who was wearing brown corduroys and a pocket protector, was singing his lungs out. While the crowd seemed noticeably displeased by his performance and more than a little weary, he continued on passionately.

And that's all that actually mattered, she guessed to herself. This wasn't her passion but it could be enough to fool her father into thinking she was settling; it would be a substitute for her actual passion. And Beca was used to settling for second best in life, given that her own father spoils her stepmonster's teenage son. It didn't matter now though, because she was doing this for herself. She had to make it to Los Angeles, and by any means necessary.

Chloe's voice rang clear throughout the auditorium. "Wait! We have one more."

So she took deep breaths and she moved herself forward without truly thinking about it.

She could feel many stares drilling into the side of her head, and there was no way in hell that she was going to back down or make a total ass of herself at this point in time. And for some reason, it wasn't Chloe's reassuring smile and apparent happiness that she was there, and it wasn't Jesse's suprise on his face that motivated her. It was that blonde; the same irritating, judgemental, admittedly straight-forward - which Beca would never admit that she respected on some level - blonde girl that had bore her eyes into hers and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Later on in the future, Beca would find it funny that she mentally took notice that Aubrey's eyes were green that day.

But in the current moment, all she noticed was the blonde's instant disapproval and the slight pursing of her lips as she decidedly grasped the cup from the table. If she was going to sacrifice her happiness and do this as means to get by, then she sure as hell was going to do this her way. It was honestly an improvisation; a spontaneous performance that seemed to actually impress everyone. Which was amusing, because it didn't take much effort on her part. She just remembered watching 'Cups' by 'Lulu and the Lampshades' once with one of her friends back in high school on YouTube. And then they had memorized it within two hours; there was something so beautifully simplistic about it, though. It's what made her perform it in the first place.

It seemed to have gotten their attention though, because Chloe was beaming.

And while there was something like respect glinting in Aubrey's eyes, her pursed lips and annoyance easily overpowered it.

But Beca just sat there unflinchingly and didn't back down from the obvious captain's heat, watching as the blonde started to toy with her meticulously folded papers and folders. Chloe seemed to be jabbing her in the ribs and trying to get her to communicate what the captain thought about the controversial - yet quite interesting, and no doubt talented - performance. And people seemed to be finally disbanding, standing and stretching awkwardly from their seats, chattering about a few potential prospects. And the two Bellas seemed to be no different, standing and gathering all of their written information.

And while Beca stood with her hands in her pockets and waiting for her overall verdict, her eyes had not strayed from the two tense - obviously arguing - Bellas.

She wasn't backing down because of this bitch.

And while Chloe gave into her agitation and strutted to the door quite impressively - if not a little hesitantly - and shutting the door slightly forcefully behind her, the blonde turned and surveyed Beca with an unscrutible expression. The brunette just watched as her eyes raked over her features in a subtle manner, taking in her ear spikes, heavy eyeliner, and admittedly freestyle hair. Beca would never flinch from fear of self-doubt, because she was way too confident for that. If someone didn't like her, than it was their own damn problem.

And that's what lead to her crossing her arms almost defensively, hoping that the girl in front of her noticed that she wasn't going to back down from her unwavering stare.

And the blonde did notice.

Because her nose upturned in the slightest way, almost superior in fashion. And the folders she clutched in the crook of her willowy arm shifted upwards in a sign of slight pompousness; it made Beca nearly snort with laughter the way the blonde looked so much more tightly wound this way. She almost felt a slither of pity rise up for the girl, and she had no idea why.

But something akin to wonder must have flashed across her face, because Aubrey let loose an almost indecipherable breath and stared deep into her eyes for the last time; the challenge - and slight curiosity? - ringing through her green orbs painfully present. But the eyes disappeared from hers as quickly as they had found them, and the blonde's heels clicked along the pathway as she made her way up the aisle with her back rimrod in posture. Her blonde curls were swinging and her scarf was tied to perfection around her neck. It was a sure sign of perfectionism and maybe even a little OCD.

It was a moment where Beca realized that certain lakes had certain depths; Aubrey was no doubt on the shallow end.

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And for Aca-Initiation night, she remembers gentle hands grasping her elbows while a black bag encased her face.

There was no doubt in her mind that she would get in; the Bellas seemed desperate for girls and she knows that she has a good voice. But she was definitely not expecting this lame attempt at inducting her - which lets be honest, was scarily like rush week at a sorority house, not that she would actually know - into the Bellas. The hands that grasped her elbows with gentle and on the reassuring side; the hands that threw the bag over her head were more than a little rough and were no doubt showing who was in charge.

Beca sarcastically wondered who was who in that whole scenario.

And with Jesse stumbling and trying to talk to her about aca-children, Chloe's drunken giggles and getting up into her face and showing no hesitance whatsoever, and Aubrey's hawk-eyes on her as she sipped only one drink the entire night and seemed intent on keeping her Bellas out of trouble, Beca knew she was in for a long year.

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Beca notices another layer several months later, after she decks a former Treble and gets arrested for property damage.

She wasn't quite thinking at the time because she was noticeably fuming at Jesse; her cheeks were a flushed pink and she had never had to bite her own lip so hard before so that she wouldn't make another retort and dig herself even further into her never-ending black hole of destruction and mistakes. Her fists were clenched angrily at her sides as she made her way to Baker Hall; she ignored the blood on her knuckles and the pain in her thumb - she must've not been holding it right or something - as she nodded to the security guy guarding the door. She showed him her Barden ID and he nodded respectively at her, opening the door for her.

He was always such a nice guy; apparently he had a kid at home he was planning to put through school so he took this security position here for extra income. For some reason, even though his hazel eyes landed on her just about every night - especially when she was making her way home from the radio station - he still checked her identification. She honestly didn't mind though, because it showed her that he took his job seriously and that he wouldn't allow wackos - excluding Kimmy Jen's friends - in the building.

Her feet were aching from these damn Steve Madden heels and she stopped near the stairway on the first floor, taking a deep breath and slinking down the wall exhaustedly. A part of her just wanted to get up and out of here; call her mom and grab her admittedly low funds and just scramble to Los Angeles with nothing but an apology note left behind.

Sure, a small pang enveloped her chest at the thought of leaving the Bellas - they all had become somewhat decent friends over time - and everything behind, but she readily ignored it. People leave and shit happens in life; they could just get over it and move on and get someone who could actually deal with Aubrey on a daily basis.

But then reasoning kicked in and she resolved to stick it out, misery and all.

Her feet had the slightest blisters on them as she finally stood up and removed the torturous devices from her feet, grasping them in one hand and grasping her bag in the other. She probably looked like a drunken flight attendant right now but she couldn't bring herself to actually give a damn. She was taking the back stairway up toward her dorm and if anyone came across her then she would pull a Kimmy Jin and just glare at them murderously. She was obviously taking the psychopathic route this evening.

She bypassed all the school-promoting posters on the wall and a random Vans shoe that was just sitting on one of the steps as she trudged her way forward. She thought she heard a light voice speaking as she neared the top of the steps, but she ignored it and concluding that it was none of her business and she was tired as hell. But there was almost a type of distress ringing from that voice, and it sounded vaguely familiar...

She froze.

Aubrey had changed out of her Bellas uniform, obviously.

She was in a simple pair of sweatpants with a Barden insignia on the side of them in cursive letters. Her feet were contained in a simple pair - and yet somehow girly - pair of Nike tennis shoes. They were pacing the linoleum flooring with a clear nervousness as the blonde paced back and forth with her phone pressed against her ear distractedly. Her face contained no makeup on except for a hint of pink lip gloss, and the blonde's hair was up in a messy bun with a few random tendrils falling into her stoic face. It was a simultaneous type of thing for Beca.

Dress wise, this is almost the most relaxed she had ever seen Aubrey. The blonde was always in heels or a designer pair of flats; working out and cardio training was a different situation, obviously. Gone was the skirt or the tight designer jeans and tops and suddenly this felt all too real. It made the girl seem almost human. Okay, so that was insulting; it made the girl seem like a regular girl and not some high-strung little rich girl. And Beca's shoulders relaxed without her consent, her scowl dropping as she moved forward silently. This Aubrey made her relax; that meant the world was ending within the next few minutes, probably.

But noticing the girl's stoic expression, her eyes tinged with hardness if not a little hurt, it made Beca stop padding on the floor silently and just stop altogether. It made her eyes zero in on what the situation was; Aubrey was not having a good phone conversation, by the looks of it, and it made Beca hesitate to move forward into her dorm and just not give a damn. Because the blonde was in her dormitory section for a reason, and she wanted to get the bitching out of the way so that they could focus on a clean slate tomorrow.

"No, I -I wasn't involved, daddy -"

Aubrey's voiced became even more hushed.

"We-we placed in second this round -"

At first Beca had thought Chloe was exaggerating when she said the blonde's father was an unforgiving hard-ass, but with the desperation clinging to Aubrey's words and the almost unnoticeable tone of begging, it was quite clear that this was not a game at all or an excuse to be a bitch. It was quite disconcerting, if she were really thinking about it; the blonde was the captain of the Bellas and one of the most stubborn and hard-headed people that she had ever met in her entire life, and to see her brow furrowed with worry and voice pleading with thinly-veiled mercy? It was mind-boggling to say the least.

Aubrey's hands were clenched so hard on her phone that her knuckles were a ghostly white, and her normally pastel pink lips were just as pale; her perfectly-aligned pearly teeth were clasping her bottom lip and biting down hard with each individual pace back and forth. It was something she had never seen before, and she figured that if Aubrey saw her standing there and surveying an extremely personal moment between her and her family, that she would blow a gasket. And Beca honestly didn't know if it would be vomit or a rage-filled verbal lashing. She would prefer a verbal beatdown any day of the week.

Her mind was screaming for her body to move before she was discovered. But for some reason she just couldn't; it was like this invisible force had struck her completely immobile. It was a conflict that was raging an internal inferno; the thought of leaving the blonde here would take a load of stress off of her; she was no good with the whole comfort thing. Plus, she was fairly certain it wouldn't even get that far before the blonde was tearing into her with her vicious words. But then a part of her was screaming internally to stay; to see what happens, and for some weird reason or another, to actually try and talk to the blonde.

Her feet stayed rooted to the spot.

Green eyes suddenly bore into her own as the blonde stiffened from where she was several feet ahead.

"Daddy, I have to go. Bella business to discuss."

Aubrey's tone was crisp and curt, and the brunette could hear her father's booming voice through the phone and his demands to keep everyone in line. It was strangely like in slow motion, the way that the blonde kept gazing at her and the way Beca felt her hand twitch; her injured one, since it had been twisted with nerves all night since the accident. She could feel the dread pool slowly in her stomach as Aubrey pressed the button on her phone and put it stiffly into her sweatpants pocket. It was like a country western staredown, except this wasn't a movie and she's pretty sure they could get even more violent if they were mad enough at each other.

She searched fruitlessly for words. "I-I didn't mean to interrupt o-or anything. I was just coming back to my dorm to sleep."

Aubrey's arms folded tersely and it was a subtle movement of annoyance and more than a little anger. She shifted from foot to foot as she adjusted her bag in her hand, the contents beginning to get slightly heavy and the pain in her hand intensifying as the rough material slid over her knuckles. And as much as she just loved standing here awkwardly with her tight-ass Bellas captain, she would really rather not. But as her hand sent that painful jolt once more and her brows furrowed in the slightest way, she noticied the slightest of shifts come from Aubrey, who was gazing intensely at her injured and battered hand.

"Look, if you're here to bitch at me and whatever, can it please wait till I at least get in my dorm room?"

Aubrey's eyes were still zeroed in on her hand, and her plump bottom lip was being grasped between her teeth. The blonde silently moved forwards until she wasn't even a foot from Beca, her eyes intense and her demeanor completely unreadable. She silently held her hand out; expectation flashed across her face along with the warning to dare even try to defy her. It made Beca frown in confusion as she unwillingly shifted her hand forward, allowing the blonde to lean forward the rest of the way and grasp it gingerly.

The pain that seared up her hand made her wince a little, and it was something that finally made Aubrey's eyes snap up to see her face.

A tinge of regret flashed across her captain's eyes before it was already gone. The blonde exhaled slowly and gently examined the damaged hand in front of her; a frown occassionally occured along with a few expletives muttered under breath. It made Beca just want to blink and make sure that she wasn't dreaming; Aubrey was for once not saying anything at all to her, and she was - dare she say it - being rather, well, concerned. She was pretty sure she had fallen down the rabbit hole at some point tonight; waking up in a fucked up world was not on her list of top priorities.

For some reason, given that Aubrey was so close to her and she wasn't actually agitated for once, Beca began to examine her.

Her nose was - in the ever slightest way - upturned, but certainly not in an unattractive way.

She had an oval shaped face and the perfect tone of skin; not freakishly pale in the way that Beca was but she didn't have the sun-kissed skin of Chloe either. And the blonde's hair was a rather common and slightly stereotypical blonde. But the way her hair was pulled back and she could see every single strand of the thick hair, she noticed that the girl didn't have any dark roots growing. It was an easy conclusion that this was the girl's natural shade of hair. And for some reason the brunette actually liked that. Aubrey's perfectly plucked eyebrows were currently furrowed in her distraction.

Beca stared unflinchingly.

Because Aubrey's eyes were a considerably unique color. They had hints of just about everything in them. From further away they were tinged with a beautiful ocean blue, staring hard into your soul and just burning it without remorse. But up close and personal, they were tinted with a hazel green around the irises, an almost gentleness there that she had never seen before. Beca's hand was dropped in a swift movement; it took her several seconds to notice that Aubrey was looking right back at her, but she was now several steps away.

"Everyone's waiting for you," Aubrey intoned; her voice had regained that stiff edge to it.

It made Beca frown as she half-heartedly trudged behind her stiff captain as they made their way back to her dorm room. The future looked bleak considering how this meeting with Aubrey was already stifled and beyond aca-awkward. The blonde's shoulders were pulled back into proper posture, and she didn't say a single word to Beca until much, much later on in the evening.

It made Beca confused as to why Aubrey's cheeks and neck were aflame earlier after she had further examined her hand.

Aubrey was confusing her a lot of the time lately.

She suddenly didn't seem as shallow anymore.

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Beca easily regretted doing this in the first place.

She had never been much of a drinker before; if at all, if she were honest. But when her phone had trilled in the studio - luckily Luke was absent - and lit up once more when she ignored the first call, she reluctantly answered it with an impatient huff. To her great suprise Fat Amy was on the other line, asking her if she wanted to go somewhere to just hang out. Or in the Aussie's terms: "You're shit outta luck an' we ain't movin' to the final round, so we might as well put it all behind us an' just get tanked. And not the girly, 'I'm so drunk!' horseshit, but a good ole' fashioned Australia from down under fuckin' annihilated."

Fat Amy really knew how to put things into perspective and tempt her.

Sarcasm aside, she couldn't believe she had agreed to go with her and Stacie. They had found this little karaoke bar about ten miles off campus who was rather incompetent on the identification of minors. That, and most people didn't go binge drinking on a monday night. And Fat Amy had struck them both in the stomach lightly with a couple of fake ID's. And the brunette found that she really didn't want to know. That, and Fat Amy told her straight up that she didn't want to know how she had gotten them.

The bar itself was a real hole-in-the-wall.

Beca found that she liked it though; the crowd was a bare minimum, with just a few random stragglers at the bar and a couple of tables. And the karaoke machine looked like it had seen much better days, with the microphone taped at the cord and the screen all cracked up. But was still running, and with the low-detail and completely old-school decorations of the bar, it seemed like the bar itself was too. Besides the occassional drunken slur of a song from somebody, it was a relatively quiet atmosphere.

Except for their little group, of course. Fat Amy had shot her a wink when she had dragged a highly-sarcastic and always pleasant Bumper with them. They had 'run into each other' outside of the bar; Beca immediately called bullshit because Bumper looked quite reluctant to be there and occassionally Fat Amy would send him a saucy wink across the table as she downed her - probably sixth, but who was keeping count - rather disgusting beer. Stacie just acted nonchalant and took shots like they were fucking water or something.

She would sometimes wink at the two young frat boys at the bar, discretely nudging Beca at times and whispering for her to give her a rating number. And Beca suprisingly found that without Aubrey there and glaring at them and the stress of the ICCA's weighing in over their heads, that they were quite and relaxed and fun group. Conversations flowed easily and it wasn't awkward at all; though, it could be because of the alcohol in her system. She wasn't drowning in shots like Stacie and she wasn't tipping back classic Australian beer like Fat Amy, but she had a few mixed drinks and with her weight class she was obviously feeling it.

It made Bumper a lot more tolerable.

"Sorry that you guys didn't make it in the next round, my Bellas. But you gotta tell Aubrey to cut that girly shit out."

His voice held no real sincerity in the apology aspect of his sentence, and Beca didn't feel at all offended as she usually would by his mere presence. She just shrugged her shoulders noncommittedly and took another sip of her rum and coke. The taste was bitter and it kept making her wince throughout, but she figured she might as well have a little fun before she high-tailed it to Los Angeles.

Fat Amy gave a snort and nudged him. "You couldn't give a croc's ass if we won or not, ya shit."

Bumper just nodded his head in agreement and smirked. "You're right, you guys suck and I don't care. Even when blondie leaves the team you girls don't stand a chance."

Stacie was able to finally pull her eyes away from the cute boys at the bar, whirling around and giving the Trebles captain a raised eyebrow. She crossed her legs in quite an uncoordinated fashion, showing just how drunk she probably was. But her eyes - despite how glazed they were - held a certain awareness to them.

"Please, a lotta' your seniors are graduating, includin' you. You guys will get owned next year, right Beca?"

Stacie's words were considerably slurred and her cheeks were more than just a faintly intoxicated pink. She looked ready to pass out, or maybe even do something incredibly stupid, at any given moment. That, and with the conversation being turned around onto the one thing she didn't want to talk about, her head really started pounding with an unjust rhythm. It made her pinch her nose between her thumb and her forefinger, with Stacie's background exclamation that she really needed to get a manicure almost making her give out an uncharacteristic giggle. It made her give out a rather miserable groan instead.

Stacie's nimble fingers grasped her shoulders rather clumsily, and Beca opened her eyes and noticed the girl's slightly smudged mascara and eyeliner and the worry reflected in her eyes. Stacie looked so drunk herself at this point that Beca was to the point of wanting to force her to go back to her dorm. But given the taller brunette's characteristics and her rather inappropriate stories, she knew she was probably gonna go home with someone tonight. Like how Fat Amy was obviously going to leave with Bumper. It made her stomach clench with nausea at the image - or maybe it was just the alcohol - and she thanked God that Aubrey wasn't around to see this.

Stacie had lost her balance on Beca and completely side-swiped along the wooden and dirty floors; she shot the guy who helped her up a flirtacious wink.

Fat Amy and Bumper had gone from arguing about public sex and foot-long cheese coneys to sticking their tongues down each other's throats.

Beca's own head collidied painfully with the table and the echo of the collision made her head throb even more.

Christ, she could practically hear Aubrey's shout of, "Bellas!" And a pitch pipe blowing.

One hour later:

Chloe's bright blue eyes were tired and wide as she surveyed the carnage through her Jeep window.

Beca had picked up her phone and hit the number three on her speed dial without thought; or maybe it had been number two or four. She didn't exactly know at this point in time, because the numbers on her phone were blurring together and Stacie's drunken mumbling and tightened arm around her shoulders was stifling her proper logic. In her hand she had her phone and her Converses; Fat Amy had soaked them when she completely knocked over the entire damn pint of pale lager with a drunken exclamation of, "The damn pitcher shouldn't have been in the way of my arm. 'Course I'm gonna knock it over."

She just remembered that Fat Amy had driven them and now her car was gone along with Bumper's.

Stacie had seemed rather mopey ever since that frat boys had departed; not before having the taller brunette jot her number down on a crinkled up napkin with a winky face, of course. But she groaned and cursed their fellow Bella, telling Beca to call Chloe to come pick them up and that she's gonna be pissy because the hunter had not found its prey.

Beca had been understandably scared for her life, so she put aside her fear of interaction with Chloe and had rang the bubbly redhead and asked for assistance. She had felt considerably guilty - drunk or not, she was able to notice - because Chloe's voice sounded weak and utterly exhausted. Beca had apologized profusely and had gone to hang up the phone, claiming that she would find someone else, but Chloe's voice had strengthened ever so slightly and stated that she was coming to get her and Stacie, and they had no choice in that matter.

She had thanked her quietly, and nothing but static had been present on the phone for a good full minute before Beca hung up ashamedly.

But as she heard the locks audibly unlock and clumsily maneuvered Stacie in the backseat after opening the door rather forcefully, she somehow just knew that Chloe didn't consider this to be an inconvenience at all. Because the redhead had shared many stories about her and - shockingly enough - Aubrey back in the day. She knew that the time period could have been a little better, with her being thrown out of the Bellas and their failure to move forward into the ICCA finals. Oh, and that fact the the redhead's best friend probably hated her even more so now. But shit happens, and she honestly didn't want to lose Chloe as a friend.

She climbed in the front seat and nothing was said as Chloe put the car in reverse and backed out.

She tried to ignore the silence between the two of them, with Stacie's drunken mumbling in the backseat making her want to grin and try to crack a joke more than once. But she had never been socially adept and she realized that it wasn't her that always began the conversations between the two, it had always been the other girl. And she didn't want to stray out of her comfort zone. So she just rested her head along the cool pane of the window and just watched as all the little properties passed them by, the familiarity growing with the closer they came to Barden's campus limits.

Her eyes turned subtly to Chloe, watching as the girl drove with an unreadable expression on her face. Her redheaded counterpart had her hair thrown up into a reasonably tight ponytail, with a single long strand hanging down along the side. It was fashionably done, but Beca had a strong inclination that Chloe had probably put little effort and no thought into it. It made it even more attractive. Only foundation was on the girl's face; not even a spare hint of lip gloss coated the girl's plump lips. She had on a slightly worn Chicago Bears t-shirt, and her Pink sweatpants were rolled up to her knees and showing off the girl's flip-flops and manicured feet.

Beca loved seeing Chloe and Aubrey this way; it made her feel more secure about herself, for some odd reason. The way the girls always had the perfect amount of make-up on and always color-coordinated their outfits along with their purses made the brunette feel like she was always in a whole other league. Something that she didn't belong in. It always felt as if she had to measure up to something and dress a certain way about herself; Chloe had never really cared, even claiming that her ear spikes and her plaid shirts were 'kinda cute.'

But Aubrey's eyebrows always raised when the saw her outfits and her heavy eyeliner; her eyes would squint in just the tiniest fashion before they would flicker with something unknown to the younger girl. It was probably spite or something closely related, but Beca wasn't good at interpreting people.

Chloe's hands tightened around the wheel for the briefest of moments, and a shaky exhale broke the silence.

Beca rubbed her eyes blarily and looked over. "So...how are y -"

"I got my nodes removed last week," came the soft murmur.

It made Beca sit up a little straighter, purposely going at a slower than usual pace in order to stop the pounding in her head from escalating. She blinked at the quiet girl and grasped the seat belt that was strapped across her chest; the quiet was obviously disconcerting to her, because normally being around Chloe there was just never an awkward silence. The strap dug into her hand and she ignored the slight pain as Stacie's snores permeated the entire vehicle.

"Chloe," she whispers.

It must be genuine, and she must sound slightly heart-broken, because Chloe hesitantly turns to face her briefly before setting her eyes back on the road. A pain had flashed across her face for the briefest of moments, but it had been covered up so quickly Beca thought it might be her slightly inebriated brain. But it was the redhead's voice that confirmed that it was there.

It was almost trembling but not quite. "The doctor said it took away part of my range. That I'll never hit above a G-sharp again, like ever."

Beca could feel her chipped nails coming up to rest against her own lips in horror; singing and music meant absolutely everything to Chloe, and to take such a part of it away from her was just downright cruel on fate's part. Chloe's jaw was clenched from the effort to probably not cry, and Beca almost wanted to let the tears sting her eyes and let herself feel it for her. Her friend was obviously trying to remain strong in the entire situation, and it just made her respect for Chloe rise just a tad higher than where it already was.

"Why didn't you call me?" She questioned softly. "I would have gone with you or-or whatever, ya know?"

Chloe just shook her head and smiled her resigned smile. "Aubrey has been a mess and we didn't end on good terms. I didn't know if you wanted to remain friends."

Now Beca was just plain offended. "You just burst into my shower at the beginning of the year and sang with me. Friendships like that never die."

Chloe's lips quirked up into the beginning of a sincere smile, and Beca inwardly patted herself on that back for her efforts. And it wasn't something that she said in passing just to cheer the redhead up, she honestly meant every word coming from her mouth. The older girl was one of the very few who had accepted her without question; she would defend her without prompting and she actually would go out of her way to make Beca smile if she was having a miserable day. Beca didn't like movies, so unlike Jesse the redhead would always just ask about certain artists and to show her life performances on the internet.

It worked; it was stable and wonderful and Beca never wanted to lose the rambunctious woman in her life.

It slips before she can stop it. "I would have held your hand and brought you ice chips and all that shit."

She closes her eyes directly after and she chides herself mentally for saying the corniest thing on the planet. Her body swells with relief when the car starts to slow and she opens her eyes to see the lights of campus surrounding her; Baker Hall is just right down the concrete pathway on her right. She takes a deep breath and thanks Chloe as she unlocks her door and opens it just a smidgeon, but a hand suddenly grasps her arm and holds her there steadily.

Chloe's eyes are flashing with something she doesn't quite comprehend. "Did you mean it?"

The silence is comparable to a standstill and it feels like every single breath has vacated her body in an unsteady fashion. There's something that's traveling through the air; it is buzzing and running in circles around Beca's head and it just makes her want to run away. It's also weighted; the words are ringing through her ears and the expectation and slight hope are tangible. To give her the answer she wants. But what did Chloe want?

She gave Chloe a reassuring smile and climbed out of the vehicle. "Yeah, I did."

Chloe's blue eyes are searing into her own and the redhead's chest seemed to increase in a rapid movement. That feeling is becoming stifling and she quickly opens the door to the backseat, roughly shaking Stacie awake and ignoring her incoherent mumblings and curses and she practically falls out of the Jeep. She looks in Chloe's eyes one final time and she shoots her a soft smile, wrapping Stacie's arm around her shoulder and shutting the door softly. She grunts at Stacie's weight and she's just barely able to raise her hand in a farewell wave to her older friend.

She doesn't even have to turn around to know that Chloe's eyes are following their movements until they reach the door and the security guard. Because she can hear the car drive off just as soon as she shuts the door behind their stumbling forms of messiness.

She nearly drops Stacie when the girl sing-songs, "Chloe has a toner!"

"Wh-what?!" She splutters, indignantly. "What are you -"

"She wants on your dick, dipshit!"

/

/

/

Beca had always thought mixing her music was the ultimate rush.

But performing with the Bellas. actually performing and not doing all of that traditional shit, it sets her veins on fire and it makes her feet itch to keep moving. To keep dancing and performing. It's like nothing is truly holding them back at this point; they had finally let go and just embraced the talent that they knew they had possessed. Their harmonies were perfect and not a single note was off-key. Their choreography had been a hard work of art; every single step was done to perfection and the air was permeated with pure adrenaline.

The smiles on all the girl's faces made everything worth it. Chloe's face had been bright and brilliant when she had sung out the bass notes; she didn't once show a hint of pained loss at the severance of her higher and increased range. She just beamed and danced and let her red hair sway. Lily actually got into it as well, actually singing in more than a mere whisper and even showing off her beat-boxing talents. And of course Cynthia-Rose rapped like there was no tomorrow and Stacie tore up the floor in a blatant overtly-sexual display.

But nothing was said and no death glares had been present; that's what made it so magical.

Because Aubrey had been smiling, truly smiling, during the entire performance. She had even rivaled Chloe on her enthusiasm and endless cheer. She had grabbed fistfuls of her blonde hair and had let it loose; she literally did, because when the number picked up she had lost her ponytail. To see Aubrey prancing around and whipping her hair and slapping Fat Amy's ass was one of the best things Beca had ever seen.

Their eyes had met more than once and no hostility was in either of them. Just happiness. And hope.

And when they won, pure chaos rang throughout the building. The Trebles looked shell-shocked and the crowd was for once on their side. Everyone had been exchanging hugs and brilliant smiles, and for once Beca was not so afraid of a little bit of her personal space being interrupted. She had actually embraced back.

Because with Chloe you couldn't really help it; not accepting a hug from her was like kicking a puppy. So she let Chloe wrap her arms around her waist and hoist her up roughly; the redhead's giggles rang in her ears as she was being twirled around the stage. And Aubrey's hug had been a bit of a suprise.

It was like the world paused when Aubrey turned to stare at her with a smile; Beca instantly smiled back at her, because she knew they would probably go back to arguing by tomorrow. So hesitant step forwards were taken and she met the taller girl's eyes one final time before wrapping her arms around her waist and tugging her close.

It was definitely different from Chloe.

Aubrey was even taller than the redhead, so Beca had to wrap her arms around her waist and not her shoulders; she was sure Aubrey would bitch if she had to lean down four inches to hug the tiny girl. And her breasts were a smidgeon smaller than the redheads, but Beca found that she liked that; it didn't make her feel uncomfortable at all, because her upper body pressed just perfect between Beca's chest and collarbone. Aubrey's willowy arms and frame wrapped around her shoulders and held tight, much to her initial suprise.

Because their was a more stiff composure about Aubrey, even within her hugs. It showed Beca a little unintentionally how the older girl was raised. With her upright shoulders when she walked and the way she had outstanding - if not slightly scary - table etiquette. And her hugs held a reserved and somehow pristine air about them, even caught up all in the moment.

It just made Beca breathe deeply and hug her tighter around her waist; she wanted Aubrey to embrace her back without the fear of something not being proper or right. Hugs were meant to be given to show affection and not a fake attempt at showing someone that you were friends. God, when did she become the hug advocate of all people. She fucking hated her space being enveloped by people; she instantly blamed the Bellas, because it seemed as if they had turned her into one big softie and she really didn't like that.

Aubrey's breathing was still a little ragged in her ear, and Beca was barely able to pick up the way the blonde's shoulders loosened up as they tightened around her shoulders. They were swaying a little and just listening to other girls chattering excitedly and showing their excitement for their victory.

And when they pulled back Beca shot her former leader a genuine smile, and it was returned, along with respect flashing in the girl's eyes.

/

Beca was right, by the way; they went back to arguing the very next day.

Luckily it was over mundane things this time around and not something like a playlist or the ICCA's.

/

/

/

They had all parted tearfully; graduation caps littered the air and the Bellas were there to support their former captains.

Everyone had hugged and the few who didn't have each other's numbers exchanged them.

"You better text me, ya bitch," Fat Amy laughed. "'Cause you and I are gonna tear up the dorms together next year. I wonder how they feel about pot-bellied pigs?"

Sadly enough, Beca actually found herself excited at that entire prospect. When Chloe and Aubrey gave her their final goodbyes and had officially handed over the pitch-pipe, she knew that her plans for Los Angeles were indefinitely on hold. Because Luke was graduating and he had voted Beca in his stead. And Chloe and Aubrey were moving in Atlanta; it was only an hour and a half away, because they Googled it together. And the Bellas were expecting her to be their next captain and to lead them to another championship. And apparantly Fat Amy still kept in touch with Bumper and she said that he was doing quite well doing back-up vocals for artists and doing a few things of his own up in New York City. It just made Beca all the more happy to stay, because it could increase her chances of being discovered and she would have her friends around.

So the entire summer came and went in a flash. She had gone back to Charlotte to stay with her mother; she had seemed shocked the Beca was actually choosing to go back, despite the passionate way that Beca talked about her fellow Bellas. Her father had seemed ecstatic that she was returning, telling her to call him so he could help her figure out her class schedule. Yeah, right.

And she texted quite regularly with the other Bellas; they would keep tabs on each other and spread the lastest gossip; apparently Aubrey flipped shit when she found out that Stacie had slept with Unicycle and Donald mid-last year. Cynthia-Rose had related this information with a laugh, claiming that she actually missed the blonde and her bitchiness a little.

Beca had no clue when she became such a damn girl.

And then she had received a text from Chloe two weeks before school started: Attention! All Aca-bitches are needed.

So she had returned to Atlanta a week before school started with her other Bellas, helping Aubrey move into her new house. It was small and quaint; a two bedroom and one bath house located about two minutes into the city in a nice little suburban neighborhood. While the area was on the nicer side, it wasn't anything grand and the brunette was suprised that Aubrey had down-graded from what she could surely afford; or what her dad could surely afford, no doubt. The blonde had said she was interning at her father's firm while she was going through law school, and Beca knew that the blonde still had a tough road ahead.

But she seemed to be relatively content, if the slight smile on her face and her casual workout clothing said anything when the Bellas all pulled up into their cars with a U-Haul attached to Chloe's jeep.

It was just like an old Bellas practice, with Chloe giggling in amusement and Aubrey barking at Beca if she looked unsteady at holding something.

"Beca! These are Ethan Allen designed furniture wear! If you drop that lamp I will drop you!"

Lily just sat off to the side with her headphones in her ear, bobbing her head and watching all the chaos surround her. Beca didn't necessarily blame her for not participating in this little move from hell. And even Fat Amy was struggling to have a good time, whispering that she needed to resume her cardio workouts because this was bullshit. Then she went back to say that she hadn't done cardio workouts in the first place. Chloe looked perfectly in shape however, bending over and picking up boxes that were probably heavier than Beca herself.

Cynthia-Rose seemed to be struggling to get a certain box into the back of the U-Haul, grunting and shifting while trying not to break anything as she piled it up. She eventually called for Stacie to come in and help, and the two of them groaned as they tried to maneuver everything off in an orderly fashion to avoid Aubrey's wrath.

Fat Amy burst out laughing.

"What?" She was currently trying to lift curtain hangers and was failing...epically.

"If the lesbian can't even pack up a U-Haul, then what does that say about us?"

Beca blinked and Aubrey yelled at her once more for trying to pick up something that was bigger than her. So she put the curtain rods down gently and went to pick up a slightly heavy box that was full of books instead; it was certainly easier than the curtain rods but it wasn't exactly a walk in the park either. She could vaguely make out Fat Amy following her to Chloe's jeep with her own little box in her hands. She looked down and squinted lightly; the top of the box was open ever-so slightly, and she could make out a book entitled 'Ivanhoe' by Sir Walter Scott on the top. It was so Aubrey that it made her smile a little.

"Thinking of Jesse, aren't ya love?"

She whirled around to face Fat Amy incredulously, watching as the Australian wiggled her eyebrows at her and made a grinding motion with her hips. If it weren't a joke about her and Jesse, than she would have actually laughed. But while they still kept in touch and remained friends, they were nowhere near ever getting to that level. She just didn' t think of him that way and a long and drunken conversation at the end of last year had clarified that for him. Yes, she had dedicated a part of her playlist to him at the finals, but that was to apologize for being a royal bitch.

And it wasn't just him she had dedicated the songs to. Chloe's had been 'Just The Way You Are' and Aubrey's had been 'Party in the Usa.' She had dedicated something in the final mix towards everyone; when Jesse had tried to press his lips to hers after she had stopped in front of him, she had pushed his shoulders back and murmured a 'We need to talk.'

"No," she answers quietly, but honestly. "He and I are just friends."

Fat Amy practically squawks at her. "But you had been dancing around each other all year."

"He had been dancing around me all year," she grunted, settling the box in the backseat. "I just happened to not reciprocate."

Fat Amy grinned a chelshire-like grin. "Chloe will be happy to hear that then."

Beca sighed and brushed her wild brunette hair out of her eyes, wincing when a bit of sweat from her forehead attached to her fingers. This was a lot more grueling than Beca thought it would be, and she would have come prepared with water, her headphones, and her hair up if she had known what had been in store for her. Fat Amy's comment made her frown in confusion.

"Crikey, are you really that oblivious?"

At her blank stare, Fat Amy just shook her head and started back towards all the boxes and the carnage.

/

/

/

The first time it happens is in the beginnings of October.

Bellas practice had been running fairly smooth; every once in awhile when Aubrey or Chloe were in town they would stop and sit in and visit. Despite their competitiveness to win another championship and start a winning streak, the practices were suprisingly a stress-free atmosphere. It was more of a democracy than a dictatorship; Beca was glad that not everything had to be put on her shoulders. She would generally come up with a few new mixes and see if the girls would like them or not; if they didn't, then they weren't going to do it. They even chipped in their own two cents for a mix or two and she did her best to try it out.

The two new recruits were no Chloe or Aubrey, but they had talented voices and they were pretty fast on the uptakes.

Beca really appreciated that, because with her being the new manager of the radio station, school, and Bellas practice and routines, she had enough problems on her hands. Things were running fairly smoothly for now, but she had a feeling when regionals and finals came up that she would probably want to put a bullet in the nearest person's head.

But luckily that wasn't the time being and she could relax a fair bit.

They had all been pretty good about keeping in touch with the former ex-Bellas. Sometimes Chloe would invite them all to her apartment in the city and they would all just hang out there. And sometimes Aubrey would drive up if she somehow had free time - which was rare, nowadays - to help them out and meet Beca for coffee. If someone had told her that she and Aubrey would be meeting for coffee and actually talking in a civilized manner a year before, she would have laughed hysterically. But it was happening and it was rather suprising.

It kind of made her a little bit discontent in the way of how they talked. They talked about Aubrey's firm, the weather, and the Bellas. There was no deep heart-to-heart conversations and Beca actually found herself aching once for Aubrey to tell her something personal; to discuss something that wasn't a general and polite formality. It also made her angry at herself, because a year ago she wouldn't have given a rat's ass if Aubrey or any of those girls had something they wanted to share with her or not.

She had changed; she didn't know if it was for better or for worse.

But in that current moment, she was content and she didn't care to delve deep into her personal psych.

Because somehow all of the Bellas were able to meet up and have a drink. Beca had given her night shift to Jesse to let him play whatever he wanted; she wasn't going to lie, she was a little fearful of what was currently on the radio airwaves. But she didn't have class until noon and she was with her friends, so she tried not to think too much about it. Somehow the rest of the girls didn't even have classes until the early afternoon, and the few ones who did - like Fat Amy and Stacie - just didn't seem to give a shit. Stacie had just laughed and said, "I do this every night and still have an active sex life and a high GPA. Calm down, El Capitan."

Aubrey had gotten out of dinner with her father and his potential client early and had immediately agreed to having a drink with them. She claimed she didn't have to be at the office until ten tomorrow so she should be just fine. And Chloe - shockingly, for once - had opted to be the designated driver. She had given Beca a slightly sad smile and murmured something about clinicals at nine.

So they had all gone to Phil's, that one hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar a few miles off campus.

Beca had claimed it was quite comfortable and they sucked at identifying anyone underage; it had immediately become their new hot spot. Even the damn bartender would nod at them every single time they came walking through the door. She had talked to him briefly once; he had shot her a crooked grin and said her and the girls brightened up the bar, so the first round was on him. Earl became their friend immediately after that; they didn't mind that he had graying hair and a few jagged scars gracing from his elbow up.

But as Beca drunkenly nursed her special tea, she found not to judge a book by its cover and shot the middle-aged man a grin.

She loved Earl's special mixes for her.

Except they left her fucked up.

She had become quite acquianted to this bathroom over the past few months. The mirrors were dirty and old; their attachments to the wall were beginning to wane, if the duct tape around the edges had anything to say about it. And the sink looked like it a regular occurrance cleaning just did not take place. A single, dingy stall was what was behind her currently, the shade of it an unattractive forest green with people's numbers and crude drawings permenantly etched in with black marker. It looked an almost shit brown with water running over her face and blurring her vision.

The door slams open and blonde locks practically fly through.

The next thing she hears is the sound of faint vomiting echoing throughout the dingy bathroom. It seems like such a cliche as she stumbles toward the stall with the light-bulb flickering above her head. She doesn't even have to squint down to know it's Aubrey. The perfectly curled blonde locks and the Michael Kors shoes are a dead giveaway; the vomiting sound is familiar too, she supposes sadly. She doesn't even really think as she sways a little bit forward, fumbling half-assed for the woman's hair and pulling it back and out of range.

The choking and the smell of vomit make her nose scrunch up and she stifles a groan of displeasure and disgust.

Aubrey must have finally gotten her shit partly in control, because after a minute she stops and just sighs forlornly into her hand, grasping weakly to her side for the roll of toilet paper thrown rather attractively on top of the actual dispenser. She wipes her mouth and just breathes deeply, almost leaning back into Beca as her chest heaves and her stomach settles.

She attempts to stand after a minute, and Beca immediately drops her hair and grabs onto her waist instead, breath hitching as Aubrey leans a part of her weight onto her as they stumble drunkenly out of the stall. As soon as they reach the sinks she lets go, only allowing her hand to faintly graze the taller girl's back as she leans her elbows heavily on the side of the dirty sink. There's nothing but silence and the sound of water running as Aubrey rinses her mouth out and swishes like her life depends on it; her face is scrunched up and Beca thought she noticed a faint humiliation dance across the woman's face for a moment.

Beca just sighs and leans against the wall and watches the cleaning up process.

Aubrey finally turns off the sink and immediately reaches in her pockets for a couple of regular Tic-Tacs. She puts them in her mouth and chews them quickly, like the faster she chews the faster her bad breath will go away. Luckily, nothing seemed to have gotten on her pink halter top, and her Express jeggings seemed to be saved from the disaster as well. The blonde's make-up is slightly smudged now and her curls are in a slight disarray, but the sight almost makes Beca want to break out and giggle.

She's reasonably intelligent though, even drunk; she knows that Aubrey would murder her for making fun of a vulnerable moment for her.

Aubrey's voice is slightly hoarse, and more than a little humiliated. "Thanks, you know, for that."

Beca just nods and grins slightly, finally letting the booze cloud her mind as she leans against the paper towel dispenser and then jumps when it makes a noise. She really fucking hates that automatic motion detector shit, because what if she wanted two at one time? What if she didn't have the energy to wave her arm in front of it for a second time? See, it makes no fucking sense whatsoever -

"Are-are you ok?"

Aubrey's voice is slightly more slurred than normal, but somehow she is able to keep her composure through all of this shit. It makes Beca simultaneously envious and also a little bit tickled that Aubrey was such a little rich girl. Even drunk the blonde has the talent of standing upright with her shoulders back, the only give away is the booze on her breath and the way her eyes were glazed more than a Krispy Kreme donut. She justles forward and pats Aubrey's cheek gently with her hand before she can stop herself.

Her grin must be ridiculous. "I'm all good."

Aubrey just shakes her head and mumbles, "You're drunk."

It makes Beca grin all the more, despite her tone coming out defensive. "So are you, Lawyer Barbie."

And now they are giggling hysterically and trying to hold each other upright, ignoring the light tapping on the door and Lily's voice murmuring, "I need to pee."

Aubrey's face is buried in Beca's neck and the heavy breaths and giggling escaping the blonde is dancing across her skin. Chills are faintly erupting and a soft tug in her stomach is starting to make her wonder if she had gotten food poisening in the past hour. The hand that entwines with her own is slightly sweaty, and she can smell Aubrey's freakishly expensive shampoo, along with sweat and her Chanel perfume. It's starting to make her head spin faintly, because her vision crinkles at the corners and her mind is screaming at her to, 'Just fucking do it!'

She honestly doesn't even know what her subconscious is trying to tell her, and she doesn't understand why it feels like she's at war with herself. A conflict over something she didn't understand was making her almost sick to her stomach with nerves and her hands are beginning to tremble in the crook of Aubrey's elbow.

Aubrey has pulled her head back and she is looking into her eyes now. The blonde's smile is loose and free; the alcohol in her system is quite noticeable. Her cheeks are flushed with a deep rosy hue, and it spreads along down to her swan-like neck and the top of her chest. It has the beginnings of sweat coating the top and Beca has to fight every ounce of her desire to drop her eyes and take in the woman's flushed assets. Aubrey's glazed eyes are gazing into her own, and she surmises that she has the same flushed look about her.

Aubrey's eyes are a dark green at the current moment, and there's such an overwhelming intensity that it makes Beca's breath hitch. It's not just the intensity in the blonde's eyes, it's the pure intensity of this single moment. And she doesn't even understand why. Because it feels as if something is building and building and it's like something is about to just crash into the ground -

Fingers are digging into her cheeks and plump lips are slammed roughly against her own.

She wishes she could say that she had frozen in suprise and stood there with her eyes wide open. She didn't; her eyes had clenched shut and her stomach had exploded with all of these little creatures and she was grasping Aubrey roughly by her hair and clashing their mouths clumsily together.

Nothing about Beca and Aubrey was ever right.

That's why they were kissing drunk in this dingy old bathroom after Aubrey vomited.

She could faintly taste it deep within the blonde's throat, after the taste of bourbon and Tic-Tacs and Aubrey's natural taste blossomed through. And her lips were tingling madly as their tongues tangled together and their bodies pressed tight against each other. She didn't know when her back collided painfully with the sink but it had. Thin, but muscular arms were caressing from her arms and down to her legs, gripping the back of her thighs and -

Shit.

Beca yelped and grasped the sink even tighter as their first attempt at Aubrey lifting her failed.

"Sorry," Aubrey rasped, still kissing her jawline feverishly. "Sorry, Beca."

Beca's hand gripped the sink even tighter, and she grunted as she hoisted herself up and onto the sink's ledge this time. Her balance was awful at best and it made her teeter for a few seconds before Aubrey grasped her waist steadily. It was like she had awoken a beast, because as soon as Beca had regained balance the blonde had grasped her face with one hand and slammed their mouths back together. Her entire body was on fire and the region between her legs was giving off a faint throb. She was fucking throbbing for Aubrey Posen.

This was so fucked up, her mind echoed as her legs wrapped around Aubrey's upper thighs and tightened when the blonde made a whimpering sound in her mouth. There was still leftover water in the sink and it coated the back of Beca's jean-clad ass as she sunk further into the sink with Aubrey half-way on top of her. It doesn't stop them though; what the hell would at this point? Common sense had vacated the building and their good friend the devil on their shoulder's and Mr. Repressed Tension had made his sudden debut with a bang.

Her back was sliding along the unsanitary mirror and she couldn't bring herself to give a flying fuck as her nails dig into Aubrey's back and the blonde's dig into the back of her thighs. Aubrey is a really great kisser, even with their drunken fumbling; it makes Beca want to laugh at how that even with drunken kissing Aubrey has to be perfect. Except it seems as if Aubrey is up on the stage again; she's letting go and just living in the moment.

Their frantic pantic is echoing throughout the room and outside Lily's angry murmurs had completely disappeared altogether. She was suckling on Aubrey's bottom lip and the blonde on top of her seemed to completely lose her shit. It was high-pitched but throaty at the same time, and it echoed in Beca's mouth as she tugged harshly at the girl on top of her and pressed every single one of their curves together. The faucet was digging harshly into her back and would probably leave an awkward shape tomorrow, but she didn't really care.

And she didn't know why her hand inched down and grabbed the crotch of Aubrey's jeggings harshly, because the blonde wasn't a boy and she was pretty sure she was fondling something non-existant. But Aubrey shudders and apparently the friction was enough to thoroughly enchant the blonde, making her smash her hand over Beca's and grind down harshly. Aubrey continued to grind animalistically; it caused their bodies to move in tandem and Beca vaguely noticed through the hazy fascination and pleasure that their bodies kept colliding with the mirror and making it ricochet into the wall.

Beca was panting from exertion and Aubrey was gasping with her brows furrowed, her sweaty hand slamming against the mirror and holding her there with each thrust.

Beca began sliding her palm and moving it between the girl's legs, rubbing where she hoped the girl could feel it. Aubrey's eyes roll back -

Bang!

The mirror crashes on the side of the sink and hits the floor with a thundering boom. The sound of glass shattering echoes in the bathroom, if not the entire bar.

And it most certainly breaks the spell they were both under.

Aubrey leaps back and covers her mouth as she surveys the damage on the floor. Glass is shattered everywhere by the sink and by the the restroom door. The tape holding everything together was now just laying there and looking quite pathetic; Beca glares at it angrily and hopes the machine rays in her eyes set it on fire sometime soon. Because she had been busy, damn it. She hears a shaky breath and glances up to meet the eyes of a shell-shocked Aubrey. And Beca's mouth opens just a little bit because she looks just...gorgeous.

That rosy hue had spread everywhere at this point, even coating the tops of her arms; Beca feels an almost smug feeling well up when she sees the faint hand-prints that adorn the girl's biceps. Her eyeliner and her mascara are smeared to complete hell, and the blonde's curls were everywhere at this point. Her blonde locks looked wild and it was spell-binding to even look at it.

Aubrey Posen looks like she had just been fucked. And fucked real good.

"That mirror was a piece of shit," she mutters roguishly.

She wasn't quite meaning to say that, exactly. She had been racking her fuzzy brain with something reassuring to say to her friend, because she looked distraught. She looked ready to bolt at any second, and Beca just couldn't let that happen; she's pretty sure Aubrey would never talk to her again out of sheer embarassment. And she kinda sorta valued her friendship with Aubrey, despite how much sexual chemistry they had when they were drunk, apparently. But it would be alright. They just wouldn't ever drink together again and if they did they just couldn't disappear to the same room unintended.

Aubrey looks so lost as her palm presses to her forehead, her gaze alternating between Beca and the shattered glass on the floor.

Beca's throat closes up. "Aubrey, I -"

The blonde's gaze is on her now, waiting for her to finish her sentence and looking considerably high-strung at the current moment. The brunette doesn't want the blonde to just get up and go; she values her too much to let her run off and then never see her again. So she swallowed the odd lump in her throat and forced a half-smile.

"It's -," She struggles for the right words, " -It's okay. We were just a little too drunk and it didn't mean anything."

Aubrey is crossing her arms now and staring at the cracked window in the corner of the room. Tears are in her eyes and her bottom lip seems to jut out almost indecipherably. But she nods along with Beca's words silently, and for some reason the lump in her throat builds even more and she wants to just lay on the ground and allow the glass shards of the mirror to dig into her back. It wouldn't hurt as bad as this. And she honestly didn't even know why this just hurt. But shit happens and it does and now she's trying to take the road less traveled.

"Yeah," Aubrey whispers. "We're not, I-I mean I'm not gay, you know?"

Beca nods her head and she wants to crack it against the intact windowsill.

"I-I mean," Aubrey swallows here. "Nothing against Cynthia-Rose or anything, she's great. And it's cool if some girls are. I'm just not."

Beca smiles reassuringly. "Aubrey, it's cool. It's done with and everything. We had a little experimental fun and now lets go rejoin the girls."

It takes all of Beca's efforts to stand, because her lower back is aching from the faucet and the pressure of being in a certain angle. She winces a little and rubs her lower back, turning around and glaring at the spot the mirror used to reside; Aubrey's face erupts in a blush when Beca stretches her back slightly, and the brunette pretends to not notice it. Things would be incredibly tense and fragile with them for a little while, and she didn't want to ruin anything with a misplaced joke. And she vows never to tell anyone of this, because not only would Aubrey be mortified and be out for her head, but because it feels like it's something sacred.

She shoots a private little smile to Aubrey and she hopes that it says everything; it must, because Aubrey looks relieved and she nods her head.

She stops one final time before they go back outside and face the rest of the world.

Both their hands are on the door but their eyes are on each other intensely. She feels Aubrey's pinkie graze hers as they wrap around the handle in a strong, fluid motion. Something is present in Aubrey's eyes as she gazes at her; she's seen it before but she doesn't quite know what it is. It's gone before she notices and Aubrey turns her gaze away from Beca and towards the battered-up door. The flash of resignment across her face is a mystery but Beca doesn't even have time to question it before they are both out the door.

She's deeper than she ever wanted to be. Because Aubrey was supposed to have been shallow.

/

She had been one hundred percent correct.

Their relationship was stilted for a week before they returned to regularly texting each other.

/

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/

It's the beginning of February and by-God does Beca want to fucking off herself.

The Bellas had made it into the Finals, if barely.

The Trebles had upped their game this year, and a new college from Ho-Dunk Alabama suddenly started competing this year. And the problem is is that they are good. She had met Jesse's eyes across the maroon-carpeted space in the theatre after watching them perform and she saw the exact same look in his eyes. These guys were competition, and they couldn't underestimate them. Their choreograpy was crisp and original, and their voices left nothing to be desired. It just made Beca's shoulders sink down even more so, because the radio station was running her ragged and she was pretty sure she bombed a final last semester.

So Bellas practice had been cut back a little.

They still performed and gave their very all, with a brand new mix from Beca and a couple of new back-flips thrown in courtesy of Stacie and the freshman Jamie. It gives them second place against the Trebles and Beca is just glad that they even placed in anything at this point in time. Because the Trebles had performed oustandingly and this new team actually stunned a few people. But she knew they would be back next year, and she wasn't stupid enough to not believe that this victory upped the morale for the Trebles.

She gave her girls a smile and got into her beat-up Toyota Camry and headed toward Atlanta, duffel-bag already prepped in the back.

She knew the highway signs by heart now, automatically getting off on the 17B exit and taking an immediate right towards her destination.

Aubrey's house and the pathway to it was second nature by now.

When Beca got swamped with finals, a few overnight shifts, and preparing for regionals with the Bellas, she became quickly overwhelmed. Jesse had been trying to help her out as much as he could and even took a few of the graveyard shifts so that she didn't have to do everything alone. She thanked him profusely and then promptly scowled when he told her she was watching Scarface with him as payback. She would watch any damn movie at this point if she could just catch a damn break. And that's when a certain tradition got started.

She had been just so sick of seeing the campus that one night she had randomly fled, packing her toothbrush and a few sleepover clothes. She remembered the directions to Chloe's apartment and she had set off with that in mind. Her and Chloe were still reasonably close so there was no way she would turn Beca away. But when she arrived outside of her apartment door and knocked for several minutes without any answer she had finally decided to call her. Chloe had taken up the overnight shift in the hospital and she didn't have a spare key.

She sounded so apologetic that it nearly made Beca laugh. She just told her not to worry about it and hopefully Aubrey was home. Which she had been.

Aubrey was rubbing her eyes with the sleeves of her purple sweater and her eyes were slightly unfocused as gazed at the visitor on her doorstep.

Beca couldn't help but smile sheepishly and adjust the bag on her shoulder, trying to ignore the highlighted numbers on her cell phone that read one o'clock in the morning. She should have thought of a back-up plan if Chloe hadn't of been at her apartment, but she had been so stressed that logic and reasoning had practically high-tailed it out of her mind. So now she was scuffling her feet on Aubrey's pink 'Welcome Home' mat, hoping to God that the blonde wouldn't bitch her out for showing up randomly in the middle of the night.

"What the fuck, Beca?"

It's not said with any hostility; it's more of a frustrated groan muffled behind a spectacular yawn. Aubrey's hair is thrown into a messy ponytail and her hoody is too big and the sleeping shorts she has on is basically covering up nothing. No make-up is on the girl's face and Beca has to hide a soft grin and ignore the flocks of shitty little creatures in her belly. Aubrey just holds her hand up when Beca opens her mouth to explain, ushering her inside with an eye-roll and her very own special 'Beca' glare. It makes her smile before she can stop it.

"I'm really sorry," she says, after a moment of silence with Aubrey stretching her back. "I-I'm just going stir crazy right now with everything, and I love Amy but she's really frustrating as a roommate. Every other night there is a tie on the door and my finals and the radio station are swamping me and even the fucking library is too loud for me and I'm just losing it."

She had no idea when she suddenly gotten her mind invaded by aliens and the attackers programming her to be like Aubrey, but it's happened.

Aubrey just sighs and stares at her for a moment with tired eyes, before taking her bag from her gently and putting it on the kitchen room table. She walks over raggedly and presses a button on her ridiculously expensive cappucino maker, and the sounds of whizzing suddenly echo quietly. Beca just sits down and surveys as the taller woman goes into her bedroom and comes out with a pillow and a blanket, placing them on the couch and aligning them until they are absolutely perfect. She then surveys as Aubrey comes back in the kitchen and gets her cup of cappucino, placing it in front of Beca and giving her a wane smile.

"I have to meet a client at eight tomorrow morning."

Beca's guilt is overwhelming.

"You can study and stay here as long as you like," she continues, shooting one last nod over her shoulder. "Just don't make too much noise."

Beca just stares at Aubrey's door long after it had closed, and she doesn't know why the thought of curling up in the older woman's bed sounds so tempting. But she quickly shakes her head and frowns to herself, grasping at her bag and pulling out her College Psychology: Advanced Basics out of her bag and settling down in the wooden kitchen chairs. The cappucino is delicious and she finds herself grinning stupidly when she notices the cup of perfectly sharpened pencils in the very center of the table. There's a dog barking on the front and it looks like the weirdest thing she has ever seen.

But it was so Aubrey that it was scary.

She was actually able to complete all of her assignments that night, finally shuffling over to the couch and passing out in her shoes and everything around four in the morning. She thought she had felt fingers brush across her forehead and the weight of something on her when she had been in her only half-aware early morning state. But when she officially wakes up around ten and she notices the blanket thrown on top of her and her shoes lying primly next to her bag at the end of the couch, she knew she hadn't been dreaming.

The note had been taped on the refrigerator and a little container of french toast mix was resting next to the orange juice.

Beca vowed to find an excuse to stay at least once a week from then on.

And she had; it had been this way for two months straight now and the blonde's friendship and hospitality was the only thing keeping her sane. Which she found rather ironic to say the least; there had been a time when Aubrey had been the one causing her to teeter on the brink of insanity, and to see her actually be the one preserving it? It was a little bit fucking funny.

The blonde placed a spare key under a rock in the shrubbery so Beca could let herself in whenever she wanted.

Aubrey wouldn't even bat an eyelash if she came home from work in her suit and heels and find Beca working on a new mix on her laptop or have her pencil in her mouth in frustration as she studied. It had become an alarmingly co-dependent pattern for the both of them, it seemed. Because if it had been longer than six days and Beca hadn't stopped by her place, Aubrey would text her and make sure she's alright. Or if Aubrey was out past one and Beca just happened to be at her place and staying the night, she would text the blonde and make sure she didn't need a designated driver.

Aubrey had brought home a guy once, and it was astoundingly awkward for all three parties.

The two had been kissing each other and removing their shoes with their lips still interlocked. Beca had cleared her throat nervously as she tried to ignore the sudden clench in her stomach and the way that Aubrey's eyes almost looked at her like she was ashamed. Like she was apologizing for something. Beca didn't know why, because she hadn't warned the blonde that she would be there and the both of them were single and adults. She just grinned uneasily at the admittedly handsome man and murmured a quick, "No! Continue! I was just leaving."

Aubrey had followed her out to her car and she was apologizing.

Beca had just shot her a little grin and murmured a, "You needed to get laid anyway, Posen."

Aubrey shot her a little glare and her face had fallen for the briefest second. It was gone in a flash and Aubrey was nodding at her and walking backwards in her driveway, yelling out to Beca that she better call her tomorrow and let her know how regionals and her calculus exam went. Beca winked in acknowledgement and took off without looking back.

She had been restless that night; she had tossed and turned and crashed and burned.

She remembers feeling masochistic and asking Aubrey how he was in the sack. The blonde had made a little choking noise before biting back that it was none of her damn business and that they had a mature and fun time. It made Beca burst out laughing and mock Aubrey the rest of day; whenever she came over now she texts her just to make sure that Aubrey isn't having any 'adult time' before she just walks in. And mysteriously enough, there had only been one more guy after that before everything had come to a sudden halt.

Aubrey had never brought anyone around after that and Beca would always frown when the blonde said she didn't have any plans for the evening.

And one time she had forgotten to put the pillow and blanket on the couch, and Beca had scowled and went and knocked on her door softly, demanding that she be a better hostess and at least hook a sister up. But then the door had opened and Aubrey looked astounding coy, grasping Beca by the elbows and pulling her inside. She told Beca that the bed was more comfortable and that she would get better sleep in here. So Beca had slept with Aubrey in her bed that night, curled up on her side and away from Aubrey.

It took two weeks before they had woken up completely snuggled into each other.

Aubrey had been stiff for the rest of the day and even called Beca in the middle of class to yell at her for not putting her plate in the dishwasher when she was finished with breakfast after Aubrey left for work. Like seriously, what in the fuck? But after that they had resolved whatever issue had come their way; it took a couple of screaming matches for them to be on an equal level but it somehow worked out for the both of them.

And then Beca got wasted at Phil's and went back to her dorm with a cutie named Jason.

She didn't believe in one-night stands but she figured that if even Aubrey was somehow getting laid and she wasn't, well, that was some fucked up shit. She had left her Bellas scarf tied around the door knob and she remembered Fat Amy's shout of, "Get him, ya sly ole' dog!" She had brushed away her embarassment and had lost herself in the casual sex; Aubrey's texts had been hitting her phone since midnight but she figured that the blonde would understand her overwhelming need to get laid.

But when Fat Amy winks at her and said she might have mass-texted her sexual-exploits to all of the Bellas, Beca internally groans. Because suddenly Aubrey is not answering any of her texts, and when Chloe does there seems to be a certain amount of strain there.

So of course she drove into Atlanta to see what the fuck was up.

She remembers utter chaos; it went down in history as one of her most memorable memories.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Aubrey!"

Another random pen comes hurling at her from the kitchen and she winces as it hits her right in the collarbone. She had been trying to get the blonde to calm down for a grand twenty minutes, and it was honestly going nowhere. She had let herself in as usual and came across Aubrey looking over some paperwork at her kitchen table, scowling at certain times and taking a sip of her Chardonnay. The minute Aubrey's eyes landed on her she knew she was in a whole hell of a lot of trouble, because the fiery glint in her narrowed eyes and the way she instantly stood up from the table immediately tipped her off.

The blonde was breathing heavily and she began asking Beca what she was doing there. The blonde's voice reflected calm and that's how Beca knew that she was anything but. It reminded her of last year whenever Aubrey would smile at her and tell her that she was the captain and therefore doing her playlist. It was that freakishly looking calm that tipped you off when someone was about to explode.

And she did.

Aubrey's hands were shaking as she shouted her anger, and Beca finally was able to avoid flying objects as she bravely rushed forward and into the fray. She grasped the blonde's tiny wrists and gazed into her eyes, silently demanding an explanation to all of this madness. The blonde gazed right back, her rosy cheeks beautiful and her forest green eyes completely tantalizing. Aubrey's jaw was so clenched that it looked like it hurt, and Beca had to stop herself from cupping it between her hands and stroking her soothingly.

"Aubrey, what...?"

Her voice trails off weakly and the blonde looks as if she's barely holding onto any mental stability at all. There are tears in the blonde's eyes but she doesn't allow to have them fall, suddenly pulling her wrists away and standing upright. She's looking at the floor and she's still breathing heavily.

"Did you sleep with some random guy?"

Beca frowns in confusion. "I-yes, but I don't understand the -"

"Did you enjoy it?"

Beca's mouth gapes like a fish out of water and she really wants to take Morpheus's blue pill - she blames Jesse for these comparisons - and just wake the fuck up. When had uptight Aubrey ever cared if she had some drunken sex with someone? She had been safe about it and they had used a condom. She even went a got tested the next day just to be sure.

It was like she was missing a bigger picture; a moment was occurring, but she had no clue what.

"It-it was alright, I suppose. It was just a one night stand." Beca sighs frustratingly. "It wasn't like it was somebody special..."

"Well it should have been," Aubrey snaps.

And just like that, Beca suddenly gets it. She couldn't believe how fucking stupid she had been. The jealousy was ringing clear in the blonde's eyes, and you would have to be completely dense to miss the slight defeat in her tone. The way Aubrey had looked at her after she brought that final tool home finally made sense. They had been sharing a bed, a house, and even a car sometimes when Beca was low on gas and Aubrey gave her the keys to her BMW and sweared death upon her if it got a single scratch.

They had been in a relationship without either of them knowing.

They hadn't kissed or had sex since that one little fling in the bathroom several months ago. But it had been the way Aubrey had pulled her into her bedroom; she had grasped her hands tight and had pulled her close, nestling her neck comfortably against Beca's chest as her blonde hair fanned out across the two of them. It was the way that Aubrey woke Beca gently whenever she knew she had to drive back early to make her class on time, making her favorite breakfast quickly beforehand.

It was all these things that made it show that Aubrey certainly wasn't against the idea of them being more than friends.

"You're so fucking stupid," she hissed between gritted teeth.

Beca narrowed her eyes at the offending remark, no matter the accuracy. "And you're such a fucking bitch."

They slammed against each other with the force that they had encountered once before, when dingy walls surrounded them and the taste of faint vomit was on Aubrey's tongue. But now it was Chardonnay and there was nothing but nice decor surrounding them on the walls of Aubrey's house; they payed no mind when she sent a picture frame careening to the floor when Beca's back slammed harshly against the wall with Aubrey's tongue in her mouth.

Aubrey succeeded at picking her up this time, slamming her forcefully against the table and instantly going for the buttons on her shirt.

Not to be outdone, she grasped the button on the woman's jeans and instantly undid it, ripping down her zipper a moment later.

And later that night, when they curled in Aubrey's bed all sweaty and naked, the blonde told her that if she touched another person that she would kill her.

She knew the blonde hadn't been joking even then.

And they still fought like cats and dogs. Aubrey was astoundingly detail-orientated and she liked everything prim and proper when she left for work in the mornings. And the funny thing about that is, is that Beca just doesn't give a shit. She puts her plates in the sink and pulls the comforter hazardously up and just departs. Aubrey glares at her later for it.

And Aubrey hates the way that Beca can devour any food that's right in front of her within five minutes. She thinks it's nice to savor a meal and she doesn't hesitate to chide or glare at her girlfriend when she sees the cheese on the side of her mouth after she eats a particular cheesy nacho.

But Beca does these little things anyway to piss her off.

And they haven't told the Bellas about their new relationship yet because they just know that this will cue a major freak out. It's not the girl-girl thing because who the hell cares? It's more like it's a holy fucking shit, it's Beca and Aubrey type of thing. They used to not be able to stand each other and now they were girlfriends? Yeah, that's a big step there. Plus, the two of them weren't even gay. They suppose that the only exception had always been each other, which is funny, because that's the way it's always been.

And Aubrey's eyes flash with worry when Beca asks how Chloe is going to take the news. "Not well," is all the blonde elaborates.

And Aubrey immediately breaks into a sweat at the thought of telling her father.

But she clenches Beca's hand harder and the brunette just knows that this is one thing that the girl will not back down on. It warms her heart and it makes her look at Aubrey with nothing but adoration in her eyes when the older girl isn't paying any attention and just doing something ridiculously cute.

It's taken them a long road to get here, and Beca instantly deletes Matt's texts about Los Angeles from her phone. And she cuts the one-way ticket she had purchased for July and tosses it.

This was where her home was now.

Wherever Aubrey and the Bellas were.

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So, what did you think? More Aubrey/Beca in the future or maybe I can try a Beca/Chloe fic?