Author's Note: Merry Early Christmas everyone!

I hope you enjoy this short drabble.

Summary: Beca can't lose again, it's Christmas, the time of miracles. Please Santa, let her beat Aubrey just one time.

Beca had to win this year.

It was ridiculous, really, but she and Aubrey were always competing at something. First, it had been to get laid (Aubrey won), then to get a girlfriend (the blonde got that one too), then it was to be proposed to (God dammit Stacie) and then marriage (go fuck yourself South Carolina and the country house she and Chloe had chosen way before Stacie proposed).

So, yeah, Aubrey Posen could go and fuck herself in the crazy expensive leather chair in her fucking ridiculous corner office (she'd won the race to $500,000 first, too).

Beca looked at the pile of lights on the floor of hers and Chloe's living room. She would have the best Christmas tree if her life depended on it. Hell, she'd vote Kanye for President if it meant she'd beat Aubrey at one thing.

"Beca, it isn't a competition." Chloe's peace mantra is one she's learnt off by heart, her wife's soft voice and caring blue eyes almost pulling any anger and jealousy from Beca's body. "You and Aubrey are different people, you're not competing for your dad's attention anymore." Beca wants to punch a wall, because Aubrey fucking Posen won that too. "Can't we just enjoy something for once without it coming down to your and your step-sister's unhealthy need to be the best?"

Beca looks between their pine tree and Chloe. "You don't understand, it's more than his attention." She watches as Chloe kneels down, opening the first box of tree ornaments. "It's unhealthy for her to win this much; she wins in court, she wins in fights with Stacie. It's unhealthy."

Chloe's hum in false agreement makes Beca roll her eyes. Chloe didn't have to live in anyone's shadow - her parents were genuine. But Chloe also works in an Elementary School, where everyone is joyful, festive, naive. Beca visibly relaxes as Chloe wraps her arms around her waist from behind, she gets stressed at Christmas because she wants it to be perfect. Chloe's perfect Christmas is being with Beca and a bottle of wine; she just wishes Beca knew that. Their small two bedroom apartment is modest, but it's theirs; their Christmas tree is small, but Chloe couldn't watch it be thrown away, and - yes - their lives may never be as financially sound as a certain blonde's, but Chloe wouldn't change it for the world because they share their love for one another.

As Beca begins to battle with the lights for their petite tree, Chloe begins slicing open the large pile of unopened Christmas cards which had accumulated in their mailbox. She keeps stealing glances as Beca glares at the offending string, having to suppress giggles as the brunette visibly struggles with the length of the lights and Chloe's obvious inept at putting them away at the end of the holiday season. Just watching Beca struggle causes the redhead's insides to clench, her heart beat racing at the sight of Beca doing one of the few things she's truly passionate about - beating Aubrey and decorating Christmas trees. Yes, Chloe admits, it's a bit of a hyperbole to be saying that Beca loves decorating Christmas trees… But if someone were to tell her that she'd win over Aubrey by jumping off a cliff, Chloe was certain Beca would do that too.

"Beca, honey, I'm not sure we can fit anything else on the tree…" Chloe's been holding her phone up for five minutes whilst Beca assesses her step-sister's Christmas tree and continues trying to make hers better.

Beca has been on that ladder for twenty minutes, occasionally bending down in order to collect various ornaments from the box on the coffee table. "I am almost done, just need to put this star on the top…" When Beca's feet are planted on the floor, Chloe turns to kiss her wife, congratulating her on how amazing their tree is. It isn't colour co-ordinated to their eye colours ("Seriously Aubrey, who the fuck sells eye-colour-matching baubles?"), but it has many pieces from their journey together, into the abyss of love, onto the route of marriage, and finally to staring at their tree; the one they love so dear.

Before they get the chance to properly discuss their aca-awesome tree, a large smashing sound thunders through the apartment. Beca falls to her knees, the petite woman overcome with emotions at the sight in front of her.

Her beautiful tree, ruined.

"Fuck you and your stupid tree." Beca mumbles under her breath as she pushes past Aubrey and into the townhouse the blonde shares with Stacie on Christmas Day.

"Excuse me?"

Chloe embraces Aubrey in a hug. "Our seasonal baby didn't make it to Christmas Eve this year; she's sad about it." Chloe tries to smile, tries to cast their 'Treebeard the Pirate' from her own mind. Just the sight of the ridiculous tree in the living room in the house they could never afford - as Tobias Posen points out every year, Beca's mother nudging him gently - makes Chloe want to break down. She and Beca made that tree together, they raised him, clothed him in tinsel, they never got to christen him with presents.

"Stupid fucking tree." Beca mutters again that evening as she and Chloe sit on the stairs, choosing to move away from the Christmas party now in full swing. They're far away from their home in Los Angeles - the constant competition between the step-sisters requiring a long plane journey to stop them from bickering - as they stare out the window and see New York.

Chloe continues running her thumb over the back of Beca's hand. "There's one competition you guys have never had."

Beca's eyes are still dull, the day's festivities taking a toll on her mood. "What?"

Chloe shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Aubrey's never had sex in your bed, you've never had sex in hers."

That Christmas Night, after Chloe and Beca had bid their farewells to Aubrey and Stacie, the redhead and brunette were settled into their bed, just waiting for the sign their gift had been unwrapped.

"Beca!" The door opened mere seconds after Aubrey's shrill voice had cut through the silence of the house. A festive strap on is thrown into the darkness, landing on the floor beside the bed. "You two are disgusting, you don't see me defiling your bed!"

Aubrey Posen 23, Beca Mitchell 1.

I thought this would be a cool dynamic, review with your thoughts.