Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfic. Feedback is encouraged, but please be gentle. If people seem to like this story, I'll keep writing it. Thank you to anyone who gives this a chance. I do not own any part of Pitch Perfect.
It'd been a slow day, and Beca couldn't wait to go home and wash the sweat and marina grime off of herself. She managed to get gasoline all over herself again, and her nails are caked with 3M Marine Cleaner & Wax.
It was five til seven. Beca had turned off the gas tanks and was just finishing up reading the main tank, carefully climbing down the stairs with the 10 foot measuring stick when she heard the telltale sound of a PWC getting closer.
That asshole better not be coming here, she thought. But sure enough, the Bombardier turned towards the dock, slowing. Beca walked out onto the dock, prepared to tell the driver she's already turned off the tanks. She hates when people do this, show up right before closing. Expecting her to turn everything back on and recheck all the numbers, staying at least an extra fifteen minutes. They were almost always rude and never tipped.
As the watercraft got closer, Beca could make out a girl with hair as red as the setting sun piled atop her head. Gold aviators perched on her nose and a lazy smile plastered on her face. When she got within earshot, Beca called to her.
"Hey, I'm closing up. The tanks are already off," she gestured at the PWC hoists. The girl came closer still. Beca stared her down over the rims of her Ray-Bans, until the girl finally spoke.
"I'm sorry. I know, but I'm low on oil. I've been all over the lake trying to find an open marina, and now I'm almost out of gas. I won't be able to make it home. Please." Her voice was apologetic and genuine. Beca supposed that's why she decided to take pity on her.
Beca slowly nodded her head, gesturing to the nearest hoist. She sighed as she watched the girl struggle again and again to get on the hoist. It can be difficult, and she just wanted to go home. So, surprising even herself, Beca jumped into the shallow water, fully clothed (despite the fact that her shoes had finally just dried) to help the poor girl.
"Here. Just turn it off. I've got it." It came out a little harsher than she meant it, but the girl didn't seem to take offense.
"Thank you! I really appreciate this. I feel terrible. I'm sure you've got plans you want to get to," the redhead said as she turned off the machine and freed her wrist from the safety strap.
"It's fine.. I don't really have anything better to do." Beca got the SeaDoo positioned in the hoist. "Hold this in place, and I'll hoist you up."
The brunette climbed on the other hoist and grabbed onto the dock to pull her small body out of the water. Her drenched shorts, leaving a trail of water behind her as she moved to the hoist crank. Beca quickly started lifting the machine out of the water, her arms tired from waxing boats all day. Somehow, sensing this, the redhead climbed onto the dock.
"Here. Let me do that." Beca tried to protest, but the girl stopped her with a finger to her lips.
"It's the least I can do, since you're helping me when you shouldn't have to." She quickly unbuckled her life jacket, letting it drop on the dock, as she moved to take Beca's place at the hoist.
Beca stepped back, surprised that the girl was actually helping her. Beca hadn't paid attention before, but while the redhead lifted the PWC, seemingly with ease, she took a moment to take in the woman before her. Her tan skin and blue bikini, damp with water from her ride. Strands of hair falling loosely from her bun, she somehow still looked perfect. Beca counted two tattoos as she stared, not realizing how long she'd been looking at the girl until she saw a hand waving in front of her face.
"Hello? You still here?" Only then did Beca notice that the redhead had finished cranking up the hoist.
"What? Sorry, I was, uh, thinking.." Beca was clearly flustered, cheeks flushing with color as she tried desperately to pretend she wasn't just blatantly ogling the girl in front of her.
"About what?" she asked with a wink and a coy smile.
"About.. um, oil… Do you know what kind of oil you need?" Beca choked out, pleased with herself for managing an acceptable excuse. She could almost swear she saw the girl's face fall the tiniest bit at the question.
"Oh. Uhh… No, not really. I'm just here visiting family. This is theirs."
"Okay. I'm pretty sure it'll be synthetic, but I'll check.. Let's see.. And based on the model of this bad boy, I'd say.. two stroke. Do you mind if I hop on?"
"Go for it," the redhead replied with a smile and a wave of her hand. Beca hopped down, opening the seat with ease. She leaned down into the engine compartment to figure out what oil it needed, which indeed was two-stroke synthetic oil. Righting herself, she could have sworn she saw the redhead's eyes quickly flit away from her chest where her oversized Swan Valley tank top had fallen when she bent over.
"Called it," she said almost to herself, bouncing back onto the dock with a proud smile trying to creep onto her face. "Let me just go get a bottle of oil and turn on the gas pump for you."
Beca was almost inside the darkened shop when she realized the bubbly redhead was close on her heals. Walking over to the oil shelf, she knelt down to get the right bottle. Suddenly, she popped up and went behind the counter, empty-handed. She flipped a switch on the wall, presumably the gas pump.
"What about the oil?" The redhead queried, looking confusedly back at the oil shelf.
"Oh, um, we don't have it on the shelf.. I'll just have to give you some from the bottle we have for our rentals," Beca leaned down, coming back up with a yellow bottle, which looked suspiciously like some of the bottles lined up on the shelf. Without another word, she slid past the redhead, walking back to the hoist.
Stepping on board, she unscrewed the oil cap and expertly poured the perfect amount in with a mere glance. Throwing the bottle and funnel back on the dock, she replaced the cap, deftly climbing off the machine once again and making her way to the gas pump. Her small frame struggled to keep the wandering hose on the dock as she made her way back. She leaned over once more and started filling the tank. All the while, she could feel the redhead's eyes boring into her back, as if she were trying to memorize her.
"You know, if you had been any other fudgie on any other day, I would have sent you away without a second thought," Beca surprised herself by stating.
"Why'd you— wait, fudgie?" The girl gave her a puzzled look. Beca let out a light laugh at the way her features scrunched up as her head tilted to the side.
Done pumping gas, she dragged the hose back to its resting place, checking the gallons on the pump before turning to the girl, who had once again followed her to the building.
"Uh, yeah." Beca scratched the back of her neck and gave the girl a sheepish smile.
"That's what the locals call tourists here. This area is pretty well-known for its fudge.. I don't know. It's just like this dumb thing.."
She trailed off uncomfortably, realizing how much she had been talking to the redhead. Not that Beca is rude to her customers, but she sticks to a polite bare minimum conversation-wise. She's never been one for social interaction, steering clear of anyone she felt was getting too chummy. She barely even talked to her friends, but something about the look in this girl's dazzling blue eyes just made her want to keep talking.
"I like that," the girl replied, smiling to herself and bringing Beca back out of her thoughts.
"So why didn't you?"
"Why didn't I what?"
"Send me away."
"Oh, that.. Um, you didn't seem like a dick, which is pretty rare around here."
"No dick here," she said with a wink, giggling at the blush sneaking into Beca's cheeks. "Seriously, though, you're a life saver. My knight in shining armor!" she proclaimed, smiling brightly.
"That seems pretty extreme. All I did was fill your gas and oil," Beca replied with a raised eyebrow.
"You did way more than that, but speaking of which, how much do I owe you?" she asked, moving to get her wallet from the SeaDoo.
"It's on the house," Beca shrugged, jerking her thumb towards the building.
"I can't let you do that. I've wasted so much of your time. How much?"
"Don't worry about it, seriously. They won't miss the oil, and I'll just put the gas on my timecard. Say I took out one of the rentals with some friends." She crossed her arms, hoping the girl wouldn't push it.
It came out of nowhere. Beca was completely unprepared as she felt surprisingly strong arms wrap her into a tight hug. She froze. Unsure of what to do, Beca settled for awkwardly patting the taller girl's back until the she finally pulled away.
"Oh my god! I can't thank you enough. You're amazing, uh—"
"Beca."
"You're amazing, Beca. Thank you," Beca couldn't get over how genuine this girl was, but more than that she couldn't get over how it felt to hear her name on the redhead's tongue, calling her amazing no less.
"It's really no big thing—"
"Chloe," the redhead supplied, sticking out her hand.