AN: I love you people. There is a reason I sneak my iPod under my sheets to type more, you know. We have this connection. Barge into my shower and serenade me into your acapella group already. (Wat.)

To Ze Reviewers:

Update within two days, pretty good right? ;D (Don't expect the others to be this fast. Like really. Don't.) I'm sorry that I'm not sorry for the cliffhanger. Gotta keep you guys engaged~ But hey, at least the characters are funny. (Awwww guys, really? They're in character? Aw shucks.) And as for Beca's costume...I hope I don't disappoint :U (I have everything planned out beforehand, so I don't know I'm sorry ahhhhhhh.)

Special Shout-Out to mbj2323, my first reviewer: Wow, you reviewed within the hour of it being up. Are you a Bechloe fanfic prowler? ...High five, girl/dude! Cuz me too! XD


This is beyond humiliating. And painful. Like, she-just-might-choke-on-all-the-awkward kind of painful. And to be fair, it was probably unbearable for the people getting serenaded to, too. When you get a knock at your dorm door late at night, you would expect pizza delivery guy, not two nerds and an instrument-less rendition of Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

And ugh, the redhead next to her really wasn't helping. Beca had no idea why Aubrey thought pairing the two of them together would be wise. It was taking all of her concentration not to melt into a socially awkward mess when she's in that costume, especially now that they were alone.

Chloe's presence, along with a good dose of public humiliation, made it one heck of a long night.

And to make matters worse, Chloe seemed to become more and more aware of the hold she had over Beca's mental state. When she could, the ginger would add a little sway to her hips or a flirty wink at the end of a sentence; every time she bended over to give the gram to the bewildered college student, Beca would have to mentally scream at herself to not stare at the…ahem…ample bosom. As the night grew darker and Chloe grew bolder, Beca honestly didn't know if she could describe her co-captain's behavior as playful teasing or borderline sexual harassment.

And, funnily enough, she found herself somewhat grateful that she was wearing a costume.

A strong arm quickly snaked its way around her shoulders, and Beca soon found herself being pulled (falling) towards Chloe.

"So Beca, having fun yet?" she asked cheekily.

"Not quite," was the automatic response, her mouth dry from their proximity. She was unbelievably glad that her face was covered right now…though she was pretty sure the heat from her face could probably sear a hole into the costume sometime soon.

"Turn that frown upside down, Charlie Brown!" the dork giggled.

The scowl that Beca had been sporting grew deeper. "You know, I'm surprised no one's thrown rocks at me yet." She raised her arms to stare at the billowing white fabric, almost hypnotized.

She, Rebecca Mitchell, was wearing a bed sheet.

"Hey, I worked hard on that!"

"Oh yeah, it must take a lot of skill to cut two holes."

"Okay, first, I had to estimate the distance between your eyes, and second, I had to dig up my whole apartment to find something that was completely white. You should be worshiping me! I mean, I did just save you from a premature death, after all."

Beca sighed as she continued her trudge down the dorm halls. Was evading death by Aubrey worth dressing up as some sort of mentally stunted ghost? Her mind still considered the question, despite herself.

A group of idiot jocks quickly veered from around the corner, almost slamming into the small five-foot figure as they whooped and hollered. Beca, who had to avoid the stampede by pressing herself against the wall, cursed under her breath.

"God, I hate people.'

"…Hot damn! Chloe, you're smoking!"

Beca turned around, cursing loudly this time. John Tucker. Basketball player and player. A guy who could turn genital herpes into a society must-have, was leaning against the wall and looking at Chloe with an almost predatory look. (She's not a piece of meat, ya dick lick!)

"Thank you, John," Chloe smiled, taking the compliment in a completely carefree Chloe way despite the mental undressing he was partaking in. (Hmmm. That thumbtack on the wall could probably gauge an eye out or two.)

"Say Chloe…me and the boys are gonna have a pretty awesome party back at my house. Whaddya say? Wanna go…trick-or-treating with us?" (The blood in her veins was boiling. Was she seeing red? Shit, was this healthy?)

"That sounds great, John, but I'm a bit busy right now," she apologized, moving to stand next to Beca. (Hah, take that you stupid, egotistical son of a-)

She reached over and took a tight hold of Beca's arm. The short brunette looked at her friend in surprise. Despite the light tone and sweet smile, the sharp tug on her arm told her that Chloe wanted to be anywhere but here.

Tucker's smug grin quickly morphed into a dark scowl. It would seem that he was hardly used to being rejected. A rough hand gripped Chloe's shoulder, pulling her towards the tall jock. "Come on, Chlo, it'll be fun."

With Chloe's wince and pleading eyes, Beca quickly jumped into action. Throwing the cumbersome costume off her person, she smacked the offending hand off the redhead and placed herself between the two. "Dude, the girl said no. Back off," Beca growled, glaring venomously.

John looked at the short girl in front of him, the amusement evident in his eyes. To an outsider, the whole confrontation looked like a Chihuahua yipping at a Great Dane. "Move aside, short stuff," he chuckled, reaching over to push her away.

Beca's arm flew upwards and grabbed his hand, turning to twist his wrist. The basketball player yelped, staring at her with pain, surprise, and finally anger. Beca's eyebrows furrowed in barely contained fury; she dug her fingers into a pressure point and was quickly rewarded with a bellow. Using her second hand for added leverage, the five-foot brunette pushed his limb downwards until he finally collapsed onto his knees.

"I think Chloe has made it clear that she doesn't have time for your drunken bullshit. So I suggest you leave before I paralyze something important, ya got that?" Her frosty tone and intense eye contact left no room for disagreement. When he didn't respond, Beca applied more pressure on the point. Gasping in pain, he quickly nodded.

When she finally released him, John scrambled up on his feet and cradled his injured arm towards his chest. "You…you're both crazy bitches!" he hissed. With that said, he turned and fled down the hall in pursuit of his lackeys.

The seething Beca considered chasing after him for the insult, but was soon placated by a soft touch on the elbow. The bystander, a gaping nurse, could only stare at her friend in awe. Beca, who was now staring at her combat boots in embarrassment, didn't notice. "S-sorry," she stuttered, "That was really stupid of me, especially since-"

"Holy fuck, Beca!" Chloe exclaimed, "Where did you learn how to do that!?"

Beca looked up, using her left hand to rub her right elbow sheepishly. "Well, when you have a single mom and a teenage daughter living in a questionable part of town, you do what you gotta do…"

Chloe's eyes and smile were impossibly wide. "Beca…that was so…so…"

"Badass?" Beca finished, her confidence rising when she detected no scorn.

"Aca-awesome!" she corrected, "I'm sure your street cred will skyrocket when word gets out!"

Beca snorted. "Yeah. That's all I've ever wanted: being known as the up and coming Barden street fighter."

Chloe ignored the sarcasm and looped her arm around Beca's. "You so have to teach me how to do that."

Beca frowned for a moment, her mind imagining all types of shady guys that probably hit on her all the time. Her worry soon melted away, quickly replaced by amusement at Chloe's enthusiastic behavior. She seemed to be so happy at the thought of being able to disarm grown men.

"I'll have to check my calendar."

Unfazed, Chloe continued dragging the brunette before coming to a sudden halt. "Oh my gosh, I almost forgot!" she grinned, backtracking. Before Beca could ask, the accursed bed sheet was once again thrown over her head.

Argh. So close.


The night still wasn't over. Naturally, Beca couldn't help but sulk. All she wanted to do was sleep. Tomorrow was a weekday; there were CDs that needed to be stacked, mixes to be finished, and classes to not attend. But Aubrey and her traditions and Chloe with her pout forced her to stay. For the Halloween "party." Emphasis on the air quotes.

After the painful ordeal of fundraising, the Bellas were brought to Chloe and Aubrey's dorm. Upon arriving, they were greeted with colorful streamers, black bats, glow sticks, and mini-jack-o-lanterns. Snacks and assorted candy were already in bowls, waiting for them on the island counter of the large kitchen. (Which was totally unfair. Here she was sleeping on a bed that doubled as a couch while people like Aubrey get to eat eggs made from her Iron Chef kitchen.)

The Bellas, being the shameless weirdos they were, quickly made themselves at home. Which left Beca sitting in the corner, wishing she could retire back to her couch-bed.

Everyone was chatting and munching on sugar, occasionally sipping Amy-laced punch. Instead of a song with beats that shook the floor, the background was filled with the dialogue from the Charlie Brown Halloween special. (She had glared at the remote-holding Chloe, her scowl deepening when she only got a playful wink in return.)

Despite fighting the haze of sleep, a (very!) small part of her couldn't help but appreciate Aubrey's idea of getting together outside of rehearsals. It gave everyone a chance to get to know one another without the pressure of sounding pitch perfect and wearing painful heels.

Much to her dismay, a fangless Cynthia Rose took a seat next to her. Don't get her wrong, CR was a pretty chill chick and all, but Beca was kind of hoping that she could slip into dreamland. The surprisingly comfortable armrest made an excellent pillow, and her bed sheet kept her decently warm.

"Hey there, pint-sized!" the mezzo soprano greeted. (Okay, what is it with people and their delight in her lack of height? Can't people get a little more creative? She was wearing ear spikes, for Christ's sake!)

"Heeeey," she moaned in reply.

The singer looked at her amusedly before grinning. "So, word has it that you beat up a six foot muscle man for jumping Chloe's tits. Stacie said you nearly broke his arm and made him beg for his life. Amy, on the other hand, swore up and down that you wrestled the whole basketball team and made them sign a slave contract. I wasn't sure which story to believe, so I thought I'd clarify with an actual witness."

Beca took a moment to blink disbelievingly at her friend. How the hell does gossip get so blown up in such a small group of people? "I just pressed a pressure point to make him back off. That's all," she assured.

Cynthia Rose relaxed into her chair, letting the two fall into a comfortable silence. See, that's what she liked about CR. She could sit in silence and be perfectly fine. Unlike the others, who were insanely nosy and-

"Ya know…" CR continued, unwilling to let the topic die, "A lot of people wouldn't have done what you did."

"Well, not everyone knows where pressure points are. The trick is to hit it right here, right next to the-"

Her friend shook her head. "No, what I mean is, not many people would've put themselves in the middle of something like that."

Beca frowned at the thought. "What do you mean? I did what any other person would do for a friend. I mean, haven't you hurt someone for hurting your friend's honor?" (Honor? Was she some Sir Lancelot now? Wow, she must be really tired.)

Cynthia Rose grinned again, showing off her incredibly white teeth. "I got into a bar fight once." Beca made a waving hand motion as if to say "See? There ya go."

"Some sleazy guy had too much to drink," she continued, "and tried to cop a feel on my three-year girlfriend."

In her defense, Beca was tired. She stared at Cynthia Rose's knowing look for a good five seconds before the words started to sink in. Her eyes widened, her exhaustion abandoned in exchange for shock. "Dude. No. Uh-uh. Chloe's just a friend. A completely platonic friend. Besides, Tucker is such a tool; he totally had it coming."

"I don't think you'd risk getting your ass handed to the campus police for protecting the honor of a platonic friend."

Beca shook her head stubbornly, refusing to accept her words.

The African American sighed. "Okay, baby steps then. Do you know if you might be gay…?" she asked tentatively.

"I'm bi," Beca asserted. She had the whole confusing sexuality thing figured back when she was a teen. It soon became just another fact of her life: she had trust issues, her mixes were kickass, she swung for both teams, etc etc.

CR nodded, glad that she could bypass that awkward stage. "Okay! So a crush isn't all that out of the question, then. I mean, she is the first Bella you befriended, and her total lack of personal boundaries probably doesn't help."

Beca shook her head once again.

Cynthia Rose looked a bit frustrated, but still managed to keep her even tone. "Why not, Beca?"

Because she's probably as straight as a doorknob. Because trust issues would get in the way. Because shower guy is still probably in the picture. And, oh yeah, because she's Chloe freaking Beale, aka Miss "Painfully-out-of-my-league."

…Wait…no, Chloe was- no, is!- just a friend. Just…a friend. So it doesn't matter if she's out of whoever's league because all feelings that are being felt right here, right now, were nowhere near romantic!

…Right?

CR smirked at the conflicted look on her face. "If it makes you feel any better, you have exceptional taste. I mean, no one can fake those legs, girl! You'd better get on that before someone less noble than me tries to get in those panties."

Before Beca could reply, the topic of their conversation quickly made her presence known. She sat (fell) on the brunette's lap and looped her arms around the other girl's neck.

"Becaaaaaa," the intoxicated ginger cooed, "Come dance with me~"

"Uhhhhh…I um…er…"

In the corner of her eye, Beca saw Cynthia Rose bite a knuckle to keep herself from laughing.

Bitch.

"Cooome oooooooon! It'll be so much fuuuuuun~" Chloe finished the exclamation by rubbing her nose against her's.

Holy. Fuck.

Next thing she knew, Beca was on her feet with an ecstatic Chloe, who was happily flailing a pair of glow sticks to the background noise of Charlie Brown and Bella laughter.

She herself couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculous sight, deciding to ignore the questions that made their home in the back of her head. And the knowing look on Cynthia Rose's face. And the writhing stomach creatures and buzzing veins.

It was all probably a result of alcohol and lack of sleep, anyhoo. Because, really, this is like the second month of Barden, and the first of acapella. As a matter of fact, today was the first day she even saw Chloe outside of rehearsals. So who was she to have these…emotions?

Amy trips, and somehow, an orange cupcake manages to smear itself on Chloe's collarbone. A very exposed collarbone, mind you…considering the costume she was wearing. Shoving a napkin in her hands, Chloe asks Beca to…well…wipe her clean.

God, how she hates Halloween.


AN: And with that, Halloween comes to an end. With four holidays and two chapters each, it should be around eight chapters. Unless I make an epilogue. (I probably will.) So if you love me and want me to love you back, leave a review! Anything from a sentence to a five paragraph essay (cough cough) would do! (Omg, rhymage.) So come on, let's be fast friendssss~