Aubrey let some air blow past her lips, exasperated. "So, what, exactly, are we going to be stealing?" She hated herself for saying it. Saying that they were going to commit a crime, a crime in which they were probably going to go to jail for.

Which would truly ruin her life. She had to make sure that no one got hurt, or they were well and truly done for in the court system.

"Well, there's this place in New York where people put their stuff to protect it from muskrats and rhinos." Aubrey just stared blankly at the phone-Fat Amy, trying to understand what the crap spewing from her mouth meant.

Beca must have seen how annoyed she was getting and was quick to interpret for her: "She's talking about a bank in New York, babe." She placed a soothing hand on her back, slipping it underneath her sweatshirt to calm her down. Her short nails slowly scratched up and down her spine, and the muscles in her back slowly relaxed under the ministrations.

"Which bank?" Amy was silent. Aubrey was beginning to get angry again, the tips of her ears turning red. Getting information from Amy was like pulling teeth out by hand, and Amy usually couldn't stop blurting out information. So that made Aubrey suspicious of what bank Amy had chosen for them to rob. Very suspicious. "Amy," she warned, "spit it out, or I'm going to fly to New York, immediately, and have you arrested for conspiracy to commit a crime." She was bluffing – a phone call was not enough evidence to get Amy convicted, but she hoped it would motivate the woman to talk.

It did. "The Chase bank, the one with the recycling sign for their logo."

Jesus Christ. She wanted to rob the largest bank in the entire country. Their headquarters, no less. "Amy, I just want you to know that I've never hated you more than I do in this moment." Her hands were squeezing into fists, clenching then unclenching. She looked down at her hands, noticed that they had risen to chest level without any conscious thought. Chloe's gaze was worried, because she hadn't done that since they were seventeen, the night her mom got so drunk she wasted all of Aubrey's college fund on a cat.

She pulled her hands down, placed them on her thighs and Chloe turned around from her spot in between her thighs so that Chloe's back was against her front. Her wife pushed her back a little from the edge of the table so that she could have a spot and parked her rear flush against her front. Chloe pulled her arms around her waist and Aubrey felt herself relax at the familiar motion, squeezing her tightly before pressing her nose in between the shoulder blades in front of her.

She kissed the skin there and let Chloe try to defuse the tension between her and Amy. Tension snapping was one of Chloe's best qualities.

She began to relax but stiffened when she felt the clasp of her bra become unlatched again. She turned her head to look at Beca, annoyed, but too exhausted to start a fight. Beca smiled at her shyly, obviously hoping that she wouldn't get mad at her: "My hands kept getting caught in the strap and I didn't want to accidentally snap you with it." She nodded, the whatever fight she had left draining out of her as she realized Beca was just looking out for her.

"Thank you, Beca. I appreciate it." She placed her cheek against Chloe's warm skin, happy that Chlo wasn't a fan of shirts with anything more than a tie to keep the front from flapping up.

"I think, what Aubrey meant to say was, 'This isn't going to be easy, but we can do it,'" Chloe explained to the phone. Aubrey shook her head no against Chloe's back, feeling the vibrations reverberate through her head. It really wasn't what she meant to stay. "Em? Do you think you could go and grab the lotion underneath my sink? The one with the blue cap and white bottle. It should say For Stress on it. Bring a washcloth too."

The singer jumped into action before Chloe had finished, and Aubrey was grateful for her beyond belief, right now. She murmured out a soft thanks into the skin in front of her and sighed when she felt Beca's nails scratch lightly at the base of her neck.

Absently, she heard Chloe get off the phone with Amy, having taken the phone from Emily. Something about her being overwhelmed, which was true. If she didn't calm down, she was likely to vomit, and she hadn't done that in close to seven years, back when she was a trainee.

All she needed to do was take some deep breaths and she'd be fine.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Her concentration was broken by Chloe: "Stace, can you go get the table? The massage one. It's in the closet by the front door."

There was a kissing sound – she assumed it was Stacie saying yes to Chloe – then a pair of feet walked past the table on her left side, heading to the front door closet. Her ears tuned out any other sounds and she focused on the scratch of Beca's nails on her back, the feel of Chloe's waist beneath her hands and her own breathing.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Her mind began wondering, thinking back to her first dog. A Pomeranian-beagle mix with white hair. Small; perfect for holding when her dad was at work and her mom was plastered, angrily yelling at her. Her dad had given him to her when she was fifteen, for her birthday, the year she met Chloe. She squeezed her arms around Chloe, tight. Chloe's appearance in her life had been a Godsend, giving her a place to go when her mom was having a fit.

The sound of a table being unfolded snapped her mind out her reminiscing. She opened her eyes and pulled her head away from Chloe's back, turning her attention to the table being set up. Emily had returned as well, the bottle of lotion in her hands. Beca removed her hand from underneath her sweatshirt, then helped Chloe to stand her up and strip her down. After a second, she was standing naked before her wives, but instead of the usual arousal she saw in their eyes, it was nothing but love and worry, hoping she'd be alright.

She gave them a terse nod, then walked to the table and laid down on her front, face poking through the headrest of the table. A couple drops of cold lotion hit her shoulders, a few more along her spine, and then a thin line going down each of her legs. She couldn't tell who had which body part, but when they all started pressing their hands against her muscles, she sighed out a sound of relief, then she became silent and focused on what the hands were doing to her. Small hands on her left leg, fiercely kneading the back of her thigh. A tiny bit larger hands on her right leg, where the flesh of her thigh met her ass. The largest pair of hands were on her shoulders, so that must've been Stacie, squeezing the tension out of her muscles. Another pair of small hands were on the lower area of her back, kneading the muscles there – Emily, maybe, but it could've easily been Chloe.

They all knew how to make her muscles nearly fall off the bone. Her mind swam and slipped into nothing but thoughts of what was happening on her back, and it was nearly an hour later when she realized they had stopped. A couple words came into her ears, not making any sense. Stupid, from Beca (but it could've been Emily, or Stacie, or Chloe; she was still out of it). She looks so… from Chloe, but she didn't catch who she was talking about or the end of her statement. You can't be serious, coming from a squeal that could only be Emily, then a moan, too deep to be anyone but Stacie, followed by a not without Bree from Emily. Were they having sex while she was nearly comatose? She was going to be mad at them for that, later.

Her mind swam again. What was she going to be mad about? Sex? Yes, it was about sex. Not getting enough sex? Too much sex? No, that couldn't be it. Maybe Beca propositioned Kommissar again? Possible, but unlikely. Maybe she did. When she thought of Beca calling the German, all she could think of was arousal at taking the woman down – whether with sex or humiliation. But she didn't quite understand what her mind was thinking about. Why was she thinking about that terrible German woman? Then her mind slipped again.

Her mind eclipsed into blackness.


A hand on her shoulder shook her awake. She shook her head no, then grew confused when she could barely move it. Was she on her front? She had to be. The massage, Fat Amy… it came back to her in fits. There was a voice in her ear, telling her to get up. She tried to say no, but it just came out as a groan.

"Aubrey, babe? It's time to get up. You've been shivering for the last fifteen minutes and you need to put some clothes on." Had she been shivering? She felt fine now – until a shiver wracked through her body and she realized that she actually was freezing.

She pulled her arms up, placed them on each side of her chest, then pushed up. Her back felt amazing, more relaxed than it had been in months, her legs were jelly and she twisted her body so that her legs were hanging off the table. Her arms fell against her sides when she was fully sitting up, then there was a hand pulling each arm out to her front. Her bra. That's what they were doing. She opened her eyes and confirmed her guess, her black bra was being slid up her arms, then clasped and she repositioned it so that it was comfortable against her skin. She saw Emily down on her knees, putting her panties back on, moving them up her legs. The panties stopped when they hit the table and she looked at Emily's face.

"Can you stand up for me, Bree?" Aubrey nodded her head, then slowly slid off. She nearly fell as she grew used to her own weight again, but Emily was there to catch here, right after she slid her underwear up the rest of the way. "I got you. Don't worry." She nodded into Emily's shoulder, thankful for her closeness.

Beca and Chloe, from what she could tell, each raised an arm of hers up, Stacie slipping the sweatshirt on her. She stepped away from Emily and let it fall on her sides, tugging the collar around her face. She was dressed – except for a pair of pants, but she was warm now and didn't want to go through that effort.

"Thank y'all. I needed that." She looked at them appreciatively, now fully cognizant of her surroundings and her girls. Stacie grabbed her hand and she squeezed back, then let herself be dragged to the couch.

Emily stood next to her, pressed a kiss to her check, sat down, then dragged Aubrey on top of her. Stacie sat on Emily's left, Beca next to her and Chloe on Emily's right. The muscles on her back relaxed and she leaned into the gap between Chloe and Emily, back slightly resting against Chloe's shoulder, legs unfolded onto Stacie and Beca's laps.

The sound of her voice drew their eyes towards her: "What's the plan? Did you get any more information from Amy?"

Beca exchanged a look with Stacie, rubbed their thighs together, said, "Some. Apparently, they're going to be holding a bunch of money in this vault that's not in the original design plans."

"Like an illegal development thingy," Chloe explained from behind her.

"How much is a bunch of money, Beca?" The blonde was quite curious at this point, choosing to let her anger fade away rather than simmer.

"Maybe like half a billion?"

Her jaw dropped, head shot forward and her hands grabbed Emily's hands, which had been resting in her lap. That was a lot of money. Her day had suddenly gotten a lot brighter, and she no longer felt quite as ill at what they were going to do. "Like half a billion? Are you aca-serious right now? Because if you're not, we're going to be having some issues, Be-ca."

"More than half a billion," her voice intoned. "Amy said it was closer to like six-hundred million dollars."

She pressed a hand to her chest in astonishment. "Oh my goodness. I don't… I, uh…" She trailed off, not sure what to say. Chloe's giggle could be felt through her chest, and Emily leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.

"I passed out when Amy told us." Of course Emily did. She always was prone to fainting.

She cleared her throat, then turned her body so that she was now laying down across the laps of her wives. Her hands squeezed Emily's again, and she felt Beca's nails trace up and down her calves. Stacie laid her hands on top of thighs and left them there; Chloe's hands threaded through her hair, slightly-longer-than-Beca's nails scratching her scalp.

Aubrey closed her eyes before she asked the only question left: "So what's the plan?"

They didn't have a plan. At all. All the time she had been out of it, and they hadn't even managed to come to a rudimentary plan. Even something like, We think we should break in during the night, would have been welcomed. Literally anything was better than nothing. Except for prison. Which was where they were probably heading.

She sighed and opened her eyes. "Call Amy again. I want to know how she got this information." Her thumbs rubbed the back of Emily's hand, feeling the slight bumps there, thought about how grateful she was for Emily being in her life.

"Are you sure? You didn't do too good last time we talked to her, blondie." Stacie. Stacie was always looking out for her mental health.

"I'll go more insane if I don't get my questions answered," the blonde snapped. She took a few deep breaths, tried to let go of the anger that seemed to keep rising and falling inside of her chest. She thought she had banished that particular emotion earlier, but she was wrong. She didn't like being wrong. She had just learned to not let anyone see how much it upset her.

Stacie obliged, slightly rattled.

"I'm sorry Stace. I didn't mean to snap," Aubrey apologized. She just got a sorry-looking smile in response.

The call tone rang out from Chloe's phone, and Aubrey pulled her legs out from underneath Beca's hands, sat up, then slid off Emily's lap and stood up. She couldn't do this sitting down. She needed to pace. Pacing made thinking easier.

The call tone ended and a voice came through the line. "Did Aubrey finally wake up from her sex-coma?" Sex-coma? If that's what they had told Amy what had happened, she was going to slap them. All of them.

Her eyes raised accusingly at the four still sitting on the couch. Chloe's right hand stroked the soft, red material of the couch arm guiltily, eyes avoiding hers. "For serious, Chlo?"

The blue eyes met hers slowly, then mumbled, "I had to get her to stop asking."

Her voice became taut, condescending. "So you decided to tell her y'all fucked me into a coma. Great logic." Her accent was becoming too common, accelerated by her anger.

She turned from her wives, heard as Stacie's arms pushed her up. A couple of steps along the wood floor and then a pair of hands were turning her around. "Relax, Bree. Amy's slept with Bumper. Her life couldn't be any worse. Let her have some fun."

"Why the hell would you mention Bumper? That's disgusting." She let her anger focus on Bumper, glad to have an outlet. She really needed to get this anger under control; if a massage didn't work, she wasn't sure what would. Her head turned to the phone, said, "Amy, how did you get ahold of this information?"

"I found it in a thing my dad left for me," Fat Amy answered.

Aubrey did not want to know how she found it. Probably had to do with a weird sex act. Gross. "How much money do they keep in this vault?" She asked, wanting confirmation of the amount. "Do you have plans for the building? Who all is going to be in on this? And if you say Bumper, I will not be helping you."

There was a rustle as Amy pulled the phone away from herself, then she heard the large woman yell: "You're out, Bumper!" There was another rustling sound, followed by Amy lowering her voice slightly. "Sorry, I've got him tied up to the bed upstairs. Makes it hard to understand what he's saying, what with the stuff in his mouth."

"Amy! That is..." Aubrey trailed off, unable to put the horror she was experiencing into words. Stacie shook her head in agreement and revulsion, eyes scrunching shut as if that could get the image out of her mind and the sound out of her ears.

Chloe only looked slightly grossed out, but she shook it off quickly, prodding Amy to answer Aubrey's questions. "And what about the rest of the questions?"

"Oh. Right. Supposedly it's about six-thousand bricks, if the man in the basement isn't lying. And he said he'd give us the plans if I let him go."

Aubrey nodded at the phone, ignoring the part about the man in the basement. She'd deal with that later. "You better not be talking about bricks of cocaine, Amy. We may be breaking the law, but we will not be aiding the Mexican drug cartels. That is far worse than a regular robbery. Plus, why would a bank have cocaine?" Then she thought back to her training, about slang words for money. She had no idea how Amy knew about brick meaning a hundred-thousand dollars, but she guessed she shouldn't have been surprised.

"A brick means one-hundred-thousand dollars, girls," Aubrey lectured to the women in the room. "I'm sorry. I forgot what it meant for a second. I didn't expect Amy of all people to know what it meant."

Beca gave her a reassuring smile, was the next to talk: "So there's us five, then you Amy. Is it safe to assume Lilly is in? And I'd guess Flo, Jessica and Ashley, too." She paused, then made eye contact with Aubrey. "I texted CR and she said the Missus wouldn't let her, so she's out." Aubrey gave her a faint smile, thankful for her help.

"Yeah," Amy drew out, "shorty is right. Somehow."

Aubrey ducked her head then raised it in agreement. "Somehow," she confirmed. "It's always a mystery to me."

Beca stood up and walked over to her, then squeezed her thumb and forefinger and pinched Aubrey's arm. "To think I once loved you," she said mockingly, then turned around and settled into Aubrey's spot in Emily's lap.

Aubrey let out a small giggle, letting the slight pain fade away. She shook her head, then focused on the phone. "Amy, I need you to send me all the information you have. Use an encrypted email address." She nodded to herself. "That is all."

As Chloe went to end the call, her finger hovered over the end button. "Amy?" She questioned. "How long is this info good for?"

Aubrey gave another small smile, this time aimed at Chloe. Chloe, always thinking of the things she wasn't.

"Uh..." Amy hesitated, thinking. "Probably about a month. I think that's what the man said. Then they'd start slowly moving it."

"Right. Thank you, Amy. That was surprisingly lucid," Aubrey insulted. Chloe pressed the end button, just as eager to get off the phone as Aubrey.

A deep sigh emitted from Aubrey's lips, and Stacie wrapped her arms around her in a hug, squeezing her. An I'm sorry worked its way into Aubrey's brain, and she pulled her head away from Stacie, kissed her. She voiced the words her brain was narrating to her, truly sorry for snapping at Stacie. "I really just got stressed. It's no excuse, however, Stace. Forgive me?"

The large-breasted woman's eyes gave her her answer. Yes. The woman smirked once she was certain Aubrey had understood. "Now, I believe that you promised to take me against the table after your turn."

She let out a happy grin, pleased at the change in the conversation. "If I remember, I never finished." She stepped out of the arms that were wrapped around her, then settled her hands on the bottom of her sweatshirt. "I believe this is Em's shirt I'm wearing. It's hers to take off," she winked suggestively at Emily.

There was a gasp, then a groan of frustration from Emily. "Beca! Let me go! She just asked me take her clothes off."

A smirk emerged from Beca's lips. "Maybe she shouldn't have insulted me. That means everyone gets punished."

"Oh. That's so petty. Typical Beca, ear monstrosities and all," Aubrey teased.

Another sound came from the couch, but from Chloe this time. Beca had moved her hand to cover Chloe's thigh, squeezed it tight teasingly. "I stopped wearing them after our ninth date! You kept saying they got in the way of kissing me!"

Aubrey's smile became predatory. Beca had left out the part about how much she enjoyed her earlobes being nibbled on. "Aren't you forgetting a crucial part of that? A part about your ears." She advanced towards the girl menacingly.

Beca shrunk back into Emily in response. "I d-don't know what you're talking about." She raised her head haughtily, but it couldn't cover the way she was blushing, from the tips of her ears to the tops of her breasts. Aubrey licked her lips, appreciating the tight, white shirt Beca had on, the swells of her breasts that peaked out of the top.

Sex was always enough to distract her from her problems. She had no idea how she'd forgotten it earlier.

"I think you do," Aubrey sing-songed seductively. She reached the couch, then got down on her knees, looking up at Beca's face, Emily's right behind her. "Be-ca. Don't lie to me. If you don't confess, I'm going to have to punish you."

Beca squirmed in Emily's lap, trying to get as far from Emily as possible. Beca shook her head no, her eyes belaying the desire and want she had when she thought about being punished. Aubrey loved punishing Beca – loved being the enforcer in their family. "Are you going to tell me about your little kink?" Beca shook her head negatively, hair smacking Emily in the face. Emily didn't seem to notice, too enraptured in the back-and-forth.

Aubrey leaned back, straightened her spine. She blew out a sigh from her lips, blowing her hair out of her face. "Fine Beca. We're going to do this the hard way.'" She grabbed Beca's hands, then pulled the small girl up. Her slight frame made it easy to pick her up and throw her over her shoulder, ignoring the words of protest from Beca's mouth. She began her way to their room, stopped, said, "Who wants to help punish Beca?"

There was a quick flurry of movement, and then the five of them went up to their room. When they got to their room, she tossed Beca onto the bed gently, closed her eyes, then raised her arms. "Emily? I believe we had an agreement on who gets to undress me." There was a giggle, then a pair of hands grabbed the clothing and pulled it up and off Aubrey, leaving her in her underthings.

Aubrey turned to face the bed, eyes focusing on the woman lying on the bed. "Legs? Tits? Red?" She questioned. "How should I punish her?" She grinned at the responses that came in.

Later, after they were too tired to continue, the group of them snuggled together, out of position: Aubrey on the left, Emily spooning her; next to Emily was Beca, head laying on Chloe's chest as Stacie laid her head down on the other side of Chloe, looking at Beca and continuing to nip at Chloe's body. Aubrey could still hear the slight moans from Chloe, and the breathless sighs as Beca watched. She pulled Emily's arms tight around her before turning her head to look at her the best she could. "It's on nights like these that I'm glad Stacie has four women to please. Because I remember when she used to run us – before you came into our lives – into the ground. I was constantly nearly running late to work because she would require two hours a night. It's hard for even three people to fulfill those needs."

Emily grinned at her out of the corner of her eye, then placed a kiss to her temple. "Is that all I'm good for, some extra sleep?" Emily teased.

Aubrey frowned for a second, but when she realized her precious Emily was teasing her, she turned her head forward and let out a harrumph, said, "I'm not even going to answer that question."

There was a hum of contentment from the woman wrapped around her, and she melted just a little more into her arms. Post-coital cuddling was always one of her favorite times, even with the sounds of Stacie's unending libido at work. "Em, baby? Do you think we're going to get caught?"

The brunette paused, considered the situation. She let out a contemplative sound, then shook her head no against Aubrey's shoulders. "I know you're going to keep us safe and make us rich. And show me a good time."

"Are you asking for another one right now?" Another shake of the head against her back. "Good, because I'm too tired. My arms burn from Beca's punishment." A grin sneaked out of Aubrey's lips, and she turned around in Emily's arms and pressed their lips together then pulled back slowly. "Remember our first night? Just the two of us?"

"Of course I do," Emily responded softly, "I cried for half an hour afterwards."

Aubrey's lips quirked as she thought back to four years ago, a month after they had started dating Emily. "You wanted to be with only me your first time. I nearly cried at the sentimentality of it all. I was Chloe's first. You gave me the honor of being your first, something I can't treasure enough. You wanted me to be the first to make love to you. I still can't understand why I was given that privilege." By the end of her short speech, she was sniffling slightly, and Emily's eyes had begun watering.

"Because I knew you'd be the most caring a-and the most understanding," Emily choked out. "You knew how long I waited to be with someone, and you understood why." The singer let out a soft sob, then said, "I'm crying again. Of course." She leveled off, then sighed dramatically.

Aubrey gave her a pensive look, examining the tear tracks on her face. She lifted her right arm up, and gently wiped her face clear off the small tears, moved forward and pressed a kiss below each eye. "I love how emotional you are. Please don't hide it." She leaned their foreheads together, and the two of them shared a quick – very quick – moment of silence, before it was broken by a loud keening noise coming from Chloe, and a grunt from Stacie. Her lips turned into a smirk and she whispered to Emily, "What do you think Stace is using on Chlo?"

"From the way the bed's moving, definitely a strap-on," Emily giggled out. Aubrey nodded her agreement. "I'm more interested in what Beca's doing, babe. Can you check?"

Aubrey pushed up on her elbow and looked over the side of Emily, confirming her guess. "She fell asleep. I think I saw a pile of drool on Chloe's nipple. But that could have been from Stace. They're both such boob men," she snorted.

"Good thing you're the Ass Man, huh?"

A small – but exceedingly happy and cheerful – squeal squeezed past Aubrey's lips: "When did you start watching Seinfeld? Was it while I was gone? Because you know how much I love that show. Friends is better my ass. You agree with me, right?" Aubrey shot off her questions in quick succession, excited that maybe she'd have someone to wax poetic about the genius of a single episode of Seinfeld.

"I still like Friends better." Emily shrugged apologetically, "Sorry, sweetie." Aubrey gave her a light push in the stomach with the back of her hand and Emily let out an oomph. "Don't be rude. I'm your wife."

Aubrey only responded by pushing her again, and Emily pulled the arm around Aubrey's waist tight, bringing her in close so she couldn't push her another time. "I think they fell asleep, Legs. Should we?"

"Nope! I want to keep talking. I haven't had a chance since you left," Emily pouted.

She frowned exaggeratedly, and Aubrey gave in. "What do you want to talk about? How we're going to have sex in prison?"

Emily paused, moved her head on the pillow until she could see clearly into Aubrey's eyes, and began scratching her nails up and down the blonde's bare back. "Do you think they'll put us into a room together?"

The novelist watched as the brunette's eyes scrunched up and she sighed. "I don't think so. Maybe if we get a nice judge. If we do this the way I'm thinking, and still get caught, we shouldn't get more than ten years. If we plead guilty, I think we could swing it. Leave the other three to fend for themselves. What do you say?"

A large grin emerged from the other girl, and she nodded happily. "Of course. Maybe we can get Chloe in our cell too. Let Stacie and Beca fend for themselves."

"You've been spending too much time with Beca, babe. Talking bad about your wives..." Aubrey trailed off, tapping her finger against her lips contemplatively. "I think you deserved the punishment, not Beca."

A snort came from Emily, and she pulled her hand up to cover her mouth and nose, embarrassed. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the sound that had just come out of her while Aubrey laughed at her. "Anyways, back to the point, Bree. What're you thinking for the heist? It's got me so excited! I've never broken a law before!"

That wasn't at all unexpected coming from Emily, so Aubrey just ignored the last comment. "You're just too adorable, Em." Aubrey smiled at her wife, and placed a tender kiss on her lips, letting their lips stay fused together for a few moments. She pulled back, and murmured, "Well, I want to get the building plans before I make any final decisions. But, here's what I've got…"

Aubrey began her explanation, and Emily nodded along accordingly, only asking questions for clarification when Aubrey paused. "So, what do you think?"

Her wife took a second to think the plan over, before nodding firmly. "It sounds like a genius thought about it," she flattered.

A light blush covered Aubrey's cheeks, and she let her wife's praise wash over her for a second. "It's just my training talking. But thank you, darling. I love you." Emily's cheeks pinked beautifully, and Aubrey knew that this was a moment she would treasure forever, just a moment between the two of them. Aubrey rolled onto her back, and tugged Emily on top of her, so that she was in a better position to kiss her. Emily placed her elbows on either side of Aubrey's head and leaned into the lips in front of her, meeting them with a fervor she hadn't had a second ago.

When Aubrey receded into the pillow to open her mouth and take a breath, Emily surprised her by taking control and slipping her tongue into her mouth. She couldn't figure out what had come over the slender brunette, something she had never done with any of them. Maybe the thought of danger made her aggressive, and if so, Aubrey was going to do her best to get them into more danger. Emily's tongue twirled in her mouth, and a loud moan came from the back of the blonde's throat before Aubrey could quiet it for her wives' sake. The naked body pressed against hers started moving and the arousal in Aubrey's stomach coiled tightly as her nails pressed firmly into Emily's back.

Another moan escaped from the two of them, this time from Emily, and she pulled out of the kiss, gasping for air. "I-I… sh-should we s-stop? I'm going to make you scream w-way too loudly."

Aubrey rested her head on the pillow, lifting her chin up to open up her airway. "Y-yeah. You're right. I'm too loud," she sighed out, disappointed. She extended her arm out, pushing Emily off of her chest: "Your body is too much. I don't think I can touch you again with combusting."

Emily agreed begrudgingly. The two separated, leaving only a slight gap between their arms, arm hairs nearly brushing. "Sooo," she dragged out, "the bank plan was good."

They both giggled after a second pause, turning their heads towards each other. Aubrey slid her hand over Emily's, tangling their fingers together. "I think, if we're diligent on the time, we should be able to make it out alright."

Her hand was squeezed tightly, and she took that for agreement, thinking about how Beca would deal with the plan.

Beca hated danger. Chloe wasn't a big fan of it either, which made both of their decisions to go along with Amy's ridiculous plan more interesting.

She pulled Emily's hand up to her lips, placed a kiss, then let it fall back in between the two of them. Aubrey closed her eyes, and felt Emily's breathing even out as the two of them joined their wives in sleep.


Aubrey's eyes snapped open with a start, startling herself into consciousness. She had an idea. An idea for the heist – much better than the one she had told Emily about.

She quickly rolled herself off of Emily and slipped out of bed, feet padding against the wood floor softly. She nearly ran to her office downstairs, completely forgetting to get dressed in her haste to not forget her genius plan. A pencil and a piece of paper quickly found their way into her hands, and she sat at her desk and began writing as fervently as she could, signing into her computer and checking the plans that Amy had sent as well.

The building had a fatal weakness from what she had remembered from her FBI training, something completely unknown to the rest of the public. If she could figure out how to attack it in the right way…

And she knew how to attack it, how to take advantage of the building's direct connection to an old subway line that had been closed close to fifteen years before construction on the building had even broke ground.

It took nearly a half hour to get the full plan on the yellow legal pad she was using, and when she did, she relaxed. She noticed, finally, that she was completely nude, it was still exceedingly dark outside, and when she looked at her hand, Aubrey could see the graphite that had smeared on the pad of her hand from where it had been wresting against the paper.

Aubrey stood up slowly, felt the AC on her warm skin, then walked slowly back up the stairs to her bathroom and cleansed herself of the evidence of her writings. She then returned to the bed and slipped into it, crawling over Emily to lay between her and Beca. Her arms and legs flopped out, and Aubrey let out a weary sigh, tired from her sudden rush to the study, and let her head relax against the pillow.

Tomorrow she'd go and thoroughly examine what her mind had churned out, but for now, she was content to let it go and go back to sleep.


When Aubrey awoke on Sunday morning, she felt good. Much better than the tumultuous Saturday she'd had, and to prove it, she got started on cleaning the house up – a task she had forgotten about yesterday. She dressed for the day, picked up all of the discarded clothes on the floor, then took them all downstairs to wash them, separating them out into whites and coloreds, delicates and regular wash.

The kitchen was clean from yesterday – which was expected, since they'd only had a very late breakfast and a light snack between rounds last night. Her stomach growled when she realized that she'd missed two meals, an idea foreign to her schedule driven mind.

Aubrey began making breakfast for herself when she remembered that she had woken up and made a new plan for the Chase building, and she nearly dropped the pan she was holding. She couldn't remember any specifics of the plan, except for the general idea that it was a genius idea.

She finished making breakfast and ate quickly, then strode over to the office and sat at her desk, examining her plan. It was more similar to the one she had told Emily about than she remembered, but it was genuinely a good idea. Her insides became giddy, excited at the ability to plan something out that would have a real effect on the world – against a corrupt bank, no less. Then again, she noted, most banks large enough to be noticed by the government were corrupt, so it was really just a matter of information on which to choose – information that Amy had provided.

She knew that this wasn't really a message to banks – nothing like La Casa de Papel was to the government – but she hoped it could mean something to some people. It wouldn't hurt any of their customers, anyways; the money was all insured. She knew she wasn't exactly justified in her crime, but every little bit of rationalization helped to cleanse her conscious.

It was another half hour of revising her plan and double-checking everything Amy sent her before she heard her family make their way downstairs, calling out for her. She responded with a soft, "In the office," and they were joining her in the room shortly.

She looked up when she heard the last pair of feet cross the threshold, noticed their curious looks, and gave them a simple command, eager to begin preparing: "We leave for New York in two weeks. Here's what I need each of you to do," she began, handing each of them a list of things for them to do and walking them through it.