I Wanna Be Your Girl


But I don't wanna be a bride
Apologies to your mother
I wanna be your girl
And spend this life with you
But I don't wanna wear white
You know it's too late for that
But can we keep the ever after?
Oh, could it be


There was something seriously wrong. It didn't mean that life was bad; it just meant that something was off, and Beca didn't like it.

Things had been perfectly fine until that day at lunch when yet another one of her coworkers had announced her engagement. She wasn't jealous. Getting married was the last thing she wanted… ever. She was perfectly content living out the rest of her life in sin with Jesse. She just wasn't the marrying kind of girl. But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that Jesse was the marrying kind of guy. And he hadn't asked yet.

She cursed her brain for its capacity to overthink things as she made her way up to their apartment. But seriously, what the hell was his problem? They had been together for almost seven years; they'd been living together for four of those years. Hell, they even had a cat. And Jesse had never once asked. He'd never even brought it up.

Sure, she'd stated more than once that she'd rather be Bumper Allen's ball washer than get married, and she did mix Vanessa Carlton's "I Don't Want to Be a Bride" with the Ryan Tedder & Contraband cover of "I've Gotta Be Me" for Aubrey's wedding (which Aubrey did not appreciate, but seriously, she should have thought twice about asking Beca to be a bridesmaid in the first place). But Jesse was a persistent guy; when he wanted something, he went for it. So why hadn't he even bothered to ask?

It had to be something… it wasn't a money issue. She had a great job with an indie music label and he had just been promoted to the assistant of an assistant's assistant for this guy who was scoring the music for some summer blockbuster. Jesse had even seen the back of Hans Zimmer's head three times, so he was in second heaven. They'd moved out of their first seedy apartment to a slightly less seedy apartment five minutes from downtown.

Maybe he didn't think she would be a good mother, which definitely wasn't true. Beca actually liked kids. She'd be an awesome mom. Rocky, their overweight orange tabby, freaking loved her. Sometimes she would take a Q-tip and clean out his ears and his nose when things got a little crusty, and he loved it. He'd purr his little head off while Jesse would wrinkle his nose and watch from the couch. She knew he wanted a family; they had discussed that much.

And it wasn't that they weren't happy. Beca had never been so happy in her life. She was living out her dream with the man she loved at her side. But, as was her habit, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and it never occurred to her that Jesse might not feel the same way.

She groaned to herself as she walked into their dark apartment. She paused long enough to drop her things at the door and flip on a light before trudging into their bedroom to greet Rocky.

"Hey, cat," she groused, pulling him off of Jesse's pillow to kiss his head. She buried her face into his fur and fought back the urge to tear up as she heard Jesse's key click in the lock.

"Lucy, I'm home!" he called as he let himself in.

"Who's Lucy?" she asked, her voice coming out a little rough. She found him in the kitchen unpacking dinner.

He shrugged with a smirk on his face. "Just some ginger that I've been shacking up with on the side." He looked over to her for a reaction, and she forced a small smile. "I brought Chinese, grasshopper."

"Yum," she muttered as she began opening up containers to inspect the contents. "How was work?"

"Pretty damn amazing," he said excitedly. He began gushing on about sitting in on some song selection process and how he was pretty sure he saw John Williams coming out of the bathroom as she set the table and eyed him warily.

He sighed contentedly as he sat down and looked up at her expectantly. "How was your day? You doing alright? You seem kind of quiet tonight."

"I'm fine." She avoided his assessing gaze by reaching over and dousing her food in soy sauce. "Amber got engaged last night."

Now it was her turn to look up at him to gauge his reaction. She silently pleaded with him to make a comment, to say anything that would lead to a conversation, and then she could put it to rest.

Instead he immediately dropped his gaze and focused his attention on picking his food up with his chopsticks. "Oh yeah? Good for her."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Is that all?"

He looked up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What else is there to say?"

"Nothing," she snapped, pushing away from the table to fetch herself a drink from the refrigerator. "Coke?"

She heard him sigh deeply behind her before cautiously replying, "Can I have a beer instead?"

She quickly snatched their drinks and practically threw his down in front of him.

"Thanks," he grumbled as he hunched over into his food.

Dinner was pretty quiet after that. She could feel the tension, and the longer he didn't say anything, the more pissed she became.

"You know what? Fine!" she finally snapped, jumping up and grabbing her plate.

He froze, his chopsticks halfway to his open mouth, and he gaped at her. "Huh?"

"I know where my life is going," she yelled. "I know what I want. I know where we are, but I don't know where you are. You don't say anything and it's driving me crazy."

"What?"

"I know what you want. You want a big white wedding and a house with a white picket fence and babies, but you're not saying it. So what's wrong with me? Why don't you want it with me?"

"Bec, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he said, standing slowly and holding out his hands as if she were armed.

"I cannot be around you right now!"

"What? Wait, Bec, where are you going?"

"I need to clear my head!" She grabbed her jacket as he continued to look at her in shock and hauled ass out the door. She heard his strangled voice cry feebly after her, but she didn't slow down until she got to a small park not far from their complex.

She plopped down on an abandoned swing and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Crap, she had probably just made things a million times worse. No wonder Jesse didn't want to marry her. She didn't blame him; she was obviously bat shit crazy.

Beca just couldn't understand why it mattered so much to her. She didn't want to get married, so this just saved her a world of trouble. Maybe she was dysfunctional. She just had a natural inability to leave well enough alone. She couldn't take happiness for long periods of time without questioning when it all would end, so she destroyed it all on her own. Why else would she insist on shaking things up for no reason if she and Jesse were happy?

She sighed and shuffled her feet. She knew why. She wanted him to want to marry her. Her ambiguity about marriage be damned. She wanted to know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life, with or without legal documentation. She knuckled her eyes and sniffled miserably. Now she'd have to apologize and hope that he forgot all about her outburst.

Beca looked around and realized how dark it was getting. She wouldn't have any choice but to go home soon anyway; their neighborhood was much better than the one they had lived in before, but this one still got a pretty shady after dark. Begrudgingly, she stood and slowly made her way back up to the apartment.

The lights were off save for the small table lamp next to the couch. Jesse looked up from his usual spot on the sofa and quirked an eyebrow at her. "So you're back."

"Jesse, I'm sor—"

"Bec," he said, cutting her off. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I love you, right?"

"Well, yeah."

"No, Bec. I mean I've been in love with you since I was nineteen years old. But I never told you that because I knew you'd freak out. I waited an entire year to tell you how I felt about you and even then, you didn't say 'I love you' back for almost six months."

"Jesse…"

"I didn't worry about it though because I knew you loved me too. And I knew how you were. I know how you are." He reached to his side and wiggled a black jeweler's box at her.

Beca's heart fell to her toes. "Oh crap, Jesse, no."

"Beca, will you shut up and sit down?" When she just stood there, he shook his head in bemusement. "Calm down, it's not an engagement ring. Now please come sit down."

She walked to the sofa with leaden feet and plopped down next to him. Once she was settled and still, he set the box on her knee and looked over at her knowingly. She'd do anything to get away from that box, from everything it could potentially mean.

"I bought that a year after we graduated," he explained. "Remember how I took that extra job waiting tables and you told me I must suck as a server because I brought home crap for tips?"

She smiled slightly and nodded at the memory. "Yeah, I do."

"I practically had to open up a Swedish bank account to hide that money from you."

"You took that extra job to buy me this? Whatever this is."

"Open it," he prodded gently.

She opened with shaky fingers and sighed with relief when she saw the titanium tension ring with a sapphire winking up at her.

"I saw that ring and said, 'That's Beca.' As soon as I saw it, I knew. No diamonds, no gold, no fancy setting; that's the least threatening ring I could get you and it would still mean something. And I've had it for three years."

"I don't get what's going on Jesse."

Jesse shifted so that he was on his knees on the floor in front of her, leaning over so that his hands were on her hips. "Beca, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'd marry you in a second if you wanted to, but I don't need a piece of paper to prove that. You don't even have to wear that ring on your left hand if you don't want to. You can put it on your middle finger for all I care. That way if people ask if I'm ever going to put a ring on it, you can flip them off."

She bit back a smile. "What about your mom?"

"Well, I don't recommend you flip her off."

Beca laughed softly and pushed his shoulder. "I mean when she asks about weddings and grandbabies when we visit."

"If this means that I have to put up her questioning us every Thanksgiving for the rest of our lives, then I'll do it for you. And that doesn't mean we can't give her many, many grandbabies." He shook his head and smirked. "In due time, of course."

"Aca-grandbabies," she amended, causing him to chuckle and kiss her forehead.

"Will you put on the ring now?"

She nodded and let him slide it onto her left ring finger. She sniffled and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. "You know, that's not half bad."

"It looks good on you," he murmured, kissing her nose. He trailed kisses down her jaw, nuzzling her just under her ear with his nose in that way that just drove her crazy, before brushing his lips against hers.

She almost giggled at how ridiculous she had been as he deepened the kiss, his hands inching up her sides. He was in it for the long haul… they both were, and a measly piece of paper wouldn't change that. Then it dawned on her. A measly piece of paper wouldn't change it either way, not for either of them.

Jesse had been making sacrifices for her since day one, and suddenly a marriage certificate didn't seem to be the worst thing in the world. Not if it had their names on it.

She pulled back slightly and flicked her gaze to the time on the cable box.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, trying to catch her lips again.

"It's only eight thirty."

He chuckled. "Good."

She pulled away and placed a placating hand on his chest. "If we leave now, we can be in Vegas by midnight."

Jesse stared at her, dumbfounded. "W-what?"

Beca grinned saucily and placed a hand behind his neck to pull him close. "Pack your things, weirdo, we're going on a road trip."


We built a poem, we kept a rhyme
Wrapped our love in golden twine
We wrote, we wrote a legacy
Just you and me


"I Don't Want to Be a Bride" originally appeared on Vanessa Carlton's 2011 album, Rabbits on the Run. Song written by and copyrighted to Vanessa Carlton, Ari Ingber, and Steve Osborne.

Author's Note: I'm currently obsessed with this movie and pairing, and for some reason this little scenario popped into my head the other night. I'm pretty sure I wrote it in my sleep. No beta, so please forgive any grammatical errors. I'm always hardest on my own work, so I find it repetitious and OOC, but I wanted to share it anyway. Please be kind!

Disclaimer: Pitch Perfect is the property of Universal Studios. I'm just manipulating it for my own nefarious (and strictly nonprofit) purposes.