Two days only after Jesse left Beca, she went to one of Das Sound Machine's representations, to see Kommissar in action on stage. The DJ haven't been able to forget the kiss they had exchanged. It remained there, as a great memory, coming to haunt her even in her dreams. She was feeling again the body of the beautiful German against hers, the revelation of the sweetness of her lips, the need to have more. It was nothing that she had ever felt with Jesse. Jesse's kisses were soft, lazy, and without the passion that had characterized the one who had made him leave. There were no butterflies in her stomach when she thought of her ex, no heat that rose along her stomach by twisting her guts, just a good old habit, like when we put on old jeans or as an old mania that it's hard to get rid of.

Beca was hard at the one who had shared the last three years of her life, but she was practically ready to erase these years in his company, just to relive the kiss of Kommissar. Was she twisted? Abnormal? Something was behind that, a strength whom had made her got back here, even after her wound wasn't still cured, a strength that told her what to do. She did not forgot the pain of her break up, the end of an old habit, but the pain eased, disappeared almost when she thought of the tall blonde.

It was not Love. No. She tried at least to convince herself. It was something in the middle of lust and of discovering new sensations. An experiment.

The end of the show interrupted the thread of Beca's thoughts, who was wondering what had made her go to the show. She didn't manage to decide what to do, go hiding or go to Kommissar, to congratulate her, she thought to herself. She didn't dither for a long time; Kommissar appeared by her side as applause weakened, eventually faded.

"You came," says the German, while smiling. "But I did not expected you so early!"

When she smiled, her deep blue eyes were illuminated with stars. She is so attractive, noticed Beca.

"I - I find you very attractive" Beca told her.

Her thoughts flows down by her mouth, again, and she cursed herself because of her too soft, too incompetent brain. Without stopping smiling, Kommissar asked her:

"Is that why you're here? You went this far just to compliment me?"

And the answer escaped too fast from the mouth of Beca, whom had no restraint.

"I wanted to try again, you know … The kiss?"

And she turned her face away, blushing. She haven't wanted that to come out like this. But the blonde had a gasp of laughter, delighting the DJ. Her laughter sounded like bells, or a well ground orchestra, it was a real symphony in her ears.

"OK, I am willing to sacrifice myself for your experiments, but that gives me what, in return?"

"I - that – Hum - well…" Faltered Beca. The red had invaded her whole face, but she had somehow managed to keep to herself why. She plunged her hands into her face, as to hide from the shame that she felt.

Half-smiling, the German had an idea.

"Come with me at the hotel bar, I'll pay you a drink."

"But, h'm... I came by bus and the last one is approximately in an hour. I really can't." Commented the Bella.

"I'll bring you and I'll drove you back, if you feel unhappy."

Beca didn't wanted to say it, but this arrangement was good, too good, in fact. It suited exactly her expectations.

The journey in her car - a Volkswagen, given for the tour – went as a charm. Both women were quiet, but Kommissar, whom was driving only with one hand on the steering wheel, not knowing what to do with her right hand, put her on the armrest in the center of both seats, where Beca had already lay down her arm previously. The no misleading gesture of Kommissar was voluntary, and received a suited reaction from the DJ, who, raising her eyes towards the sculptural blonde, nibbled her lower lip. The butterflies in the brunette's stomach were back, like the heat.