A/N: It is half eleven at night here. I was about to go shower and go to bed, but then I just stood in the middle of the room, half-dressed, looked at my wardrobe and thought, 'I have too much plaid.' I could not go anywhere until I wrote about it.

Again, not sure what this is. Guess I'm just going to be writing weird ficlets about Bechloe for a little while, hope you guys don't mind – I was thinking I might put them all together, as some kind of Bechloe drabbles/one-shot thing. I dunno, I like exploring their relationship, and not necessarily in an overtly romantic context either.

Also, I told my girlfriend I'd been hit by a plot bunny and she was like, 'Okay, what's it about?'

'Plaid.'

'Good stuff.'

My life.

'Beca, you have too much plaid in your closet,' Chloe told Beca matter-of-factly, gazing at her over the top of her egg and salad sandwich with all the seriousness and solemnity of a doctor delivering notice of a terminal illness. 'And you need to throw some of them out and get new clothes.'

Beca, who was used to comments like these – it wasn't the first time her plaid shirts had been the undeserved victim of a verbal attack from Chloe – just raised her eyebrows and sucked ketchup off the side of her thumb thoughtfully. 'Oh really?'

'Yes. You're always wearing them – heck, you're wearing one now.'

She pulled her leather jacket in closer to her body, as though that might erase the black and grey plaid shirt she'd been wearing all morning from Chloe's memory. 'It's not my fault,' she protested, 'All of my other clothes are dirty.'

'All your other clothes are plaid too. Even your pyjamas. Yep,' Chloe added, seeing the look of surprise on Beca's face, 'don't think I didn't see them hidden in your drawer.'

'Hold on, you're going through my drawers now? You weirdo.'

Beca took a disbelieving and overly large bite of her ketchup sandwich, hiding a smirk when Chloe grimaced at her choice of food. They were meant to be having a picnic, but one thing led to another (laziness) and they just ended up camping out on the floor of Beca's room with paper plates and blankets wrapped haphazardly round their shoulders because neither could be bothered to make a fort. They both agreed it was a much better arrangement.

'Actually, I saw them last time I stayed the night and I was looking for something to wear,' Chloe shot back. 'I don't even know why I try, you're so tiny – nothing of yours fits me.'

An odd expression crossed Beca's face, which, naturally was not missed by Chloe. Then again, Beca had been counting on her noticing.

'What?' asked Chloe, who could never resist commenting on any tiny nuance of Beca's behaviour.

Beca simply shrugged mysteriously, taking another large bite of her sandwich. Chloe's nose wrinkled - whether in response to Beca's eating habits or her lack of response, Beca wasn't sure, but either way she put away her own sandwich and stared at her expectantly.

'What?' Chloe asked again.

Rather than answering immediately, Beca took her time chewing, waving her hand in front of her mouth in the universal gesture for "Sorry, I'm eating". Truth was, Chloe was highly impatient when someone wasn't telling her something, and well, Beca couldn't resist seeing Chloe's face scrunch up in that little frown of hers and to hear her tiny huff. It was worth the ire of her girlfriend, every time.

'You could, you know…' Beca made like she was going to take another bite, but Chloe had finally reached her limit and blocked the sandwich's path to her mouth. Beca suppressed a snicker.

'Finish your sentence, then you can eat,' Chloe told her. Man, her lip was actually protruding. Adorable. How did she end up with someone like that?

'I love you, you know,' said Beca, brushing crumbs off her plaid shirt.

Chloe sighed with a hint of exasperation, but she was smiling. 'I love you too, dork.' They shared a short moment of eye contact, where Beca basked in being the target of such a face-meltingly heartfelt look. Chloe's eyes were even crinkling up in the corner. 'Now tell me what you were going to say.'

'You ruined the moment.'

'Beca,' Chloe whined, and Beca knew she was fast approaching the end of Chloe's tiny scope of patience.

'Alright, alright.'

Beca made a show of brushing off more crumbs until her shirt was spotless (the carpet was not, however).

If she was really being honest though, now it was less about winding up Chloe than delaying the inevitable, and fighting her own nerves. When Chloe's frown deepened a little and she opened her mouth to say something, Beca finally lifted her head and blurted it out.

'All I was going to say was, maybe you could leave some of your clothes here.'

She delivered the sentence with award-winning nonchalance. Didn't even stumble over any of the words or break eye-contact. The only thing that gave away the fact she was at all embarrassed was her face going ketchup-sandwich-red, which, now that she thought about it, was actually kind of a big give away after all. Damn her pasty skin.

It didn't help that all Chloe did was stare at her, her jaw slack for several moments. Beca began to feel just a tad guilty about teasing her, now she was on the receiving end of waiting to hear something.

Eventually, Chloe spoke, looking confused.

'You mean like…'

'You can't move in, of course,' Beca said quickly, wishing she'd said that before. 'I mean, Kimmy Jin is still here, and stuff - I can't really kick her out, much as I'd like to, so it'd literally just be you keeping some of your clothes and stuff here so it's more convenient for you. Plus, you won't have much room, it'd literally just be a drawer. Maybe not even the full drawer, just half of one because I need somewhere to put my clothes. Or I suppose I could get rid of some of my plaid shirts, haha, I guess you were right…'

Beca didn't even realise her hands were kind of flailing around in desperation during her weird little speech until Chloe caught them mid-air, and used them to yank her forward into a firm kiss. It was kind of uncomfortable seeing as Beca was off balance and didn't even have use of her hands to keep her upright; plus, Chloe kind of tasted like egg.

But she liked egg, so it was all good.

'Is that a yes then?' Beca asked, dazed, when Chloe had finally let her go and she'd had to scramble to find purchase on something to stop her falling over, which happened to be Chloe's left thigh and the stack of paper plates with the other sandwiches on. Oops.

Chloe kissed her nose, and then her lips again. 'You're a dork. I'd love to share a drawer, or half a drawer with you.'

Beca grinned at her, breathless and lefthand-ketchup-y, but happy.

'You should definitely get rid of some of that plaid, though,' Chloe couldn't resist adding.

'Fine. But I'm keeping the pyjamas.'

'… If you must.'