Title: Tell Her (One Night)
Chapter: 2/?
Author: jdc15
Rating: M/NC-17
Word Count: About 6.5k
Summary: Her body is buzzing and her muscles relaxed like they always are after an amazing night, but it's overshadowed by the tremendous guilt she feels, whether the feeling is warranted or not.
Notes: Thanks for the response to the last chapter! Here's the next. Due to the tragic lack of long Staubrey fics, I'm going to do my best to make this a multi-chapter work…we'll see how long that lasts.
Her first thought when she blinks awake is that she's got something in her eye. She rubs at it drowsily and then freezes when she feels lips against her shoulder blade.
"Good morning," Aubrey murmurs, pressing a kiss to her back and then another to her neck.
"Morning," Stacie whispers, quietly. For some reason she feels that talking too loudly will scare Aubrey away, and she just wants to stay here in bed with her for the rest of her life. She turns over slowly to face her and sees Aubrey's sleepy eyes flick to her chest and then back to her face with a sheepish half-smile.
"Did you sleep okay?" she asks, running a hand over Stacie's neck and all the way down her arm to thread their fingers together. Stacie nods and rubs her eye, realizing that she slept with her contacts in and that's why it feels like someone's poured pepper in her eye.
"What's wrong? Are you crying?"
She laughs. "No, I'm not crying. It's just my contacts. If I sleep with them in they get all fucked up."
"You wear contacts?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't know that."
Stacie shrugs, not sure how to respond. "There's a lot we don't know about each other," she says quietly. "It's been three years."
Aubrey looks suddenly downcast. "I've missed you," she admits.
"I've missed you too," Stacie says, and it isn't until the words leave her mouth that she realizes how true they are. Aubrey offers a half-smile, and they lapse into silence until Stacie suddenly feels as though someone has poured ice water over her head. "What about Donald?"
Aubrey's smile disappears immediately and she retracts her arm from Stacie's body to curl it around herself. "What about him?"
"What about him? You know what about him."
"I don't know." Aubrey's shoulder twitches irritably. "Do we really have to talk about him?"
"Are you being serious? He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"
"Yes," Aubrey says reluctantly.
"Then I'd say he is pretty relevant."
Instead of acknowledging this, Aubrey asks, "do you regret sleeping with me?"
"Jesus, Aubrey. No, I don't regret it. It was amazing. But I do regret hurting him. Anyone with a conscience would feel bad about what happened."
Aubrey sits up, holding the sheet over her chest. "So you do regret it." Her voice has a catch in it, and she turns her face away as she shuffles around in search of her clothes.
"I didn't say that!" Exasperated, Stacie sits as well. "I just reminded you of the fact that you just cheated on your boyfriend—"
"Oh, so this is my fault?"
"I didn't say anything was your fault, but I'm not the one with a boyfriend here."
"Okay." Aubrey yanks her shirt over her head and struggles into her pants. "It's fine. I get it, it's my fault and you think I'm a terrible person, and you know what? I am. So I guess we should just ignore each other today and then get back to our lives as they were before this happened."
"What's the matter with you?" Stacie asks, rising from the bed still wrapped in the sheet. "Why are you acting like this? Did I do something to you?"
Aubrey just shakes her head. "No Stacie, you didn't do anything to me except give me the best lay of my life and then ruin it by bringing up my fucking boyfriend." She gathers her remaining clothes and retreats to the bathroom, bolting the door loudly behind her.
Stacie sinks back onto the bed with a frustrated sigh before reaching for her own clothes. Her body is buzzing and her muscles relaxed like they always are after an amazing night, but it's overshadowed by the tremendous guilt she feels, whether the feeling is warranted or not.
/
"Where have you been?" Chloe hisses.
"Walking," Stacie says lamely.
Chloe raises an eyebrow. "You've been walking since seven-thirty? Because that's when I woke up and you were definitely not there when I left."
"Yeah, absolutely. Gotta get that cardio in, right?" Stacie blusters. Chloe opens her mouth again but before she has a chance to question Stacie further, Beca bounces up and snags her arm.
"Chlo, can I talk to you? Hi, Stacie."
Stacie offers a smile. Chloe hesitates but she has exactly zero power to argue when Beca is involved so she allows herself to be led away with nothing more than a glare tossed over her shoulder.
/
Aubrey doesn't show up all morning, and Stacie gets more nervous with each minute passed. She sends a text (well, four texts) but receives no replies and is finally forced onto the bus with anxiety twisting her stomach into knots and teeth chewing her lip raw.
She's staring desperately out the window when Beca plops down next to her and taps her on the arm. "You okay, dude?"
"Me? Oh yeah, I'm totally fine," Stacie nods. "How are you?"
"Fine." Beca studies her suspiciously. "Are you sure there's nothing going on? Chloe said you were acting weird and you left the tent really early."
"I went for a walk," Stacie insists.
"Okay. You went for a walk," Beca says agreeably, and they fall silent. Stacie jiggles her leg rather frenetically as the bus starts moving, her eyes darting to the lodge and staring at it until they round a bend and it disappears. She flops back on her seat and begins fidgeting with her hands, lacing and unlacing her fingers and trying not to think about where they were less than six hours ago. Beca raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
/
Beca and Chloe resume daily practices, stuffing in extra cardio and expecting everyone to nail down dance routines overnight. It's exhausting and while Stacie loves the girls, she's too distracted to concentrate and finds herself wishing the Worlds would be over already so she could leave this town.
Three weeks before the competition Chloe has the bright idea to include all the past Bellas in the performance. It's a good idea but getting that many people on board and convincing them to buy tickets to Copenhagen with less than a month's notice is going to be difficult. No one else seems to see the problem, though, so Chloe starts making phone calls and Stacie returns to the choreography.
/
Copenhagen is beautiful, and Stacie stares longingly at everything they pass, excited for the opportunity they'll have to explore after the competition. They stop briefly for lunch at some hole-in-the-wall café where everything is in Danish, and get served some weird fish panini that they all pick at before Fat Amy gives up, pulling a massive package of beef jerky out of her bag and passing it around.
"I don't know about you aca-lezzies, but I've had enough vagina sandwiches for the week," she mumbles around a mouthful of jerky.
"Vagina sandwiches?" Chloe asks, affronted.
"Yeah. Not to disparage you and Beca's preferences, or whatever, though," she says airily, passing the bag to Jessica. "If you like fish sandwiches, I'm not about to judge you."
"Amy, we aren't—" Beca flushes.
"It doesn't taste like fish," Chloe says.
"Oh yeah?" Amy asks, curiosity obviously piqued. "What's it like then, ginger?"
Chloe, unabashed as ever, grins. "It doesn't taste like anything, really. I mean, it's awesome, and everyone's different, obviously, but you can't really describe it, you know?"
Beca buries her face in her hands while everyone else snickers into their coffees, and Amy raises her eyebrows, clearly impressed. Stacie can't help the memory that pops suddenly into her mind, of Aubrey underneath her, panting as Stacie presses her hips into the bed and opens her mouth against her—
"Stace, you okay?"
"Fine," she says, pretending not to know how red her face is surely becoming. "Shall we go? Don't want to be late."
They agree and everyone gathers their things, Amy reclaiming the jerky with another muttered statement about lesbians and fish.
Beca side-eyes the shit out of her as they leave the shop, but Stacie thoroughly ignores her.
/
She's never been more nervous about a performance before, and she twists her hands anxiously as she follows Beca onstage. There are so many people, but at least it's late enough in the day that they're blurred into shadows, lit only by phone screens and glow sticks.
She executes the clapping sequence thanks to muscle memory, and then, finally, she starts to have fun. By the time the stage dims and the spotlight falls onto Beca, she can't wait for the reveal. When the lights come on and she hears the old Bellas begin to sing behind her, she knows she's grinning like an idiot.
It's bittersweet, though; on one hand, she's never felt more at home with these girls, but at the same time she wants to cry and go disappear into a hole in the ground because she doesn't want to face having to move on from them. She's closer to them than she ever has been with her own family.
The next time she spins and follows the choreography toward the back of the stage, her eyes fall on a very familiar figure. She falters in her singing for a moment when she realizes that it's Aubrey, and when they make eye contact, she almost forgets to turn back around. She can't for the life of her realize why they're both on stage, and why the hell no one bothered to tell her she was going to be in the performance. She surprises herself with the fact that she's angry, and she turns her back on the blonde, but not before catching the hurt in Aubrey's eyes. She can't find it in herself to care, though, so she throws herself back into the performance and keeps her eyes glued to the floor whenever the dance requires her to turn to the back.
/
The moment they find out they've won, Fat Amy materializes with several bottles of liquor and the announcement that they're having a party in the hotel. No one objects as they cry and laugh and hug each other. Stacie squeezes them all, not wanting to let go, but eventually they pile into several taxis, already making plans for the night. Stacie and Beca are squished against the door by Fat Amy, who commandeers three-quarters of the backseat.
"So, you aca-bitches ready for a wild night? World champions, baby!" she screeches, giving the cab driver a healthy smack on the shoulder and flinging her purse rather haphazardly.
"Amy! Have you been drinking already?"
"Well, duh. I'm twice the size of you puny caterpillars, so I've got to adjust my intake accordingly," she hiccups with a smirk. Beca shakes her head and then yelps when Amy pats her on the head rather heavily.
Amy falls abruptly asleep five minutes later and Beca and Stacie share a grateful sigh before Beca clears her throat. "So."
"So?" Stacie answers, feigning ignorance, though she knows exactly where this is going.
"Don't play stupid. You know that shit doesn't work on me."
"Not sure what you're talking about."
"Stacie!" Beca says exasperatedly. "Don't be so difficult!"
"Difficult?" if she weren't so edgy, she'd laugh. Beca is hilarious when she's worked up.
"You know exactly what I'm trying to talk to you about," Beca warns. "But since you seem to have left your brain behind today, I'll spell it out for you."
"Rude."
Beca ignores her. "What's going on with you and Aubrey?"
Her heartbeat doubles in speed. "I don't know what you're talking about, Becs."
"I saw how you went all red when Amy said that shit about the fish—"
"I blushed? You looked like a fucking tomato!"
"This isn't about me!" Beca snaps, though she blushes furiously anyway. "Don't change the subject!"
"I'm not changing the subject!"
"Yes you are. Now stop lying to me, Stacie Conrad, or I will kick your ass."
She can't help but laugh at that one, even if her stomach is currently tying itself into a rather impressive knot. Beca glowers and crosses her arms. "I'm waiting."
"Fine," Stacie finally relents. She isn't sure if Beca's getting to her, or if she just really wants to talk to someone about this. Either way, she sighs and confesses, "I slept with her."
"Ha! I knew it!"
"Thanks a lot," Stacie groans, running her hands through her hair. "You're a great friend."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Tell me about it."
"Well—" She isn't quite sure how to begin. Now that she's admitted to the fact that it happened at all, she's almost embarrassed to elaborate, but Beca is staring expectantly at her and she can't exactly backtrack now. "It was at the retreat. I hadn't seen her, or really talked to her at all since she graduated, and seeing her…I don't know. Something just felt different, you know? Or like…there had always sort of ben something there, but it took three years apart for me to realize it."
Beca gives her an encouraging nod, and she presses on. "So, the first night we were there, she found me and we got to talking a little bit, and then we ended up making out." She blushes and avoids meeting Beca's gaze. "And then the next night she ended up bringing me to her room and…you know. But then the next morning I was stupid enough to bring up her boyfriend—"
"Wait, Aubrey has a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, Donald, from the Treblemakers—"
"Are you serious? That is literally the last person I would expect her to end up with."
"I know," Stacie says miserably. Fat Amy stirs and mumbles in her sleep but doesn't wake.
"Whatever. Anyway, get on with it."
"Okay. Well, we kind of had a fight after that, because she was pissed that I brought him up and I was pissed because she cheated on him with me, and you know I hate cheating, and then she stormed out and wouldn't even look at me for the rest of the day, and then we left and I just saw her on stage and it took me by surprise and that's why I freaked out a little bit," she says in a single breath, annoyed with herself when she blinks back tears.
Beca rubs her arm soothingly. "Well, I don't mean to be a dick, but bringing up someone's boyfriend the morning after is, like, a major party foul."
"I know, I know. I just can't stand people cheating, you know, after what happened with my parents. I know I shouldn't have brought it up then, but it just sort of slipped out." She buries her face in her hands and shakes her head with a sniff. "I fucked it all up, didn't I."
"No, you didn't," Beca says reasonably. "You just need to talk to her. I'm sure Chloe will force her to come to the party tonight, so you can do it then. You'll both be all happy because we just won, and anyway, if she picks Donald over someone like you, she's an idiot and not even worth your time. By the way, that girl always struck me as a majorly repressed lesbian, so I think you'll be okay."
"Okay," Stacie sighs. What Beca said makes sense, and there's really nothing she can do aside from try and speak with Aubrey about the situation. Even if nothing good comes from it, she knows she'll hate herself, probably forever, if she doesn't make an attempt. "Thanks for the advice."
"Anytime, dude."
"So, while I have you trapped in this car for another few minutes, what's going on with you and Chloe?"
Beca flushes scarlet and Stacie grins.
/
It takes the two of them punching Fat Amy before she wakes, flailing weakly and immediately reaching for the alcohol in her purse. Beca snatches it away and stuffs some money in the cabbie's hand, shoving Amy out of the car where she immediately trips and rolls around on the sidewalk.
"Give me the vodka!" she whines, grabbing at Beca's ankles.
"No! Amy, oh my god, get up."
Amy grumbles but climbs to her feet. "Cockblocking bitch."
"Lightweight," Beca counters. Amy lunges for her but misses and ends up stumbling over a root protruding through a crack in the sidewalk. She walks quietly, a few paces behind, after that.
/
They're the last ones there, which makes sense, because Stacie would swear that their driver had gone deliberately below the speed limit in order to eavesdrop on their conversation.
A blur of auburn is all Stacie sees before Chloe hurtles into Beca, hugging the three of them before they even step through the door. She plants a quick kiss on a startled Beca before spinning away, clearly drunk already. Stacie smirks at Beca, who flips her off as she's dragged away. Amy makes a beeline for the table where the alcohol is lined up, and Stacie follows her, deciding to get a couple of drinks under her belt so she doesn't chicken out when Aubrey shows up.
/
She doesn't have to wait long; she's barely had a sip of her vodka-cranberry (mostly cranberry because she's a pussy) when Chloe taps her on the shoulder and slurs, "Your girl's here," into her ear.
"She isn't my—" Stacie begins, but Chloe wanders away again and she's left alone to scan the room, breath catching when she sees Aubrey hanging her coat in the small closet next to the door and then accepting a hug from Cynthia Rose.
She downs the rest of her drink quickly before mixing two more and making her way through the Bellas to where Aubrey and Emily are laughing together. She stands to the side like an idiot before Emily sees her and instantly grabs her for a hug. "Stace!" she squeals. "We won!"
"We sure did, Em," Stacie laughs, plucking the drink from Emily's hand and sniffing it. "Good god, girl, you're starting strong."
"No, I think you're just starting weak," Emily counters, before laughing excessively loudly and bouncing away with a wave. Stacie watches her go, torn between amusement and concern. Before she can decide, however, Aubrey clears her throat.
"Hey, Stacie."
"Hi, Bree," she says quietly, handing Aubrey one of the cups. "Here."
"Oh—thank you."
They stand and sip in silence for a minute before Stacie gathers herself together. "So, I kind of wanted to talk to you."
Aubrey shifts her weight and swirls her drink. "Sure."
"Well…" She realizes suddenly that she has no idea where to begin. She's shit at initiating conversations like these. "I guess I just wanted to say sorry for what I did."
"What you did?"
"You know…bringing up Donald. In the morning." She forces herself to make eye contact, and can't help but admire the color of Aubrey's eyes.
"Oh."
Stacie waits for her to elaborate, but nothing follows, so she presses on herself. "It was a dick move, and the last thing I should have said in that situation."
"It's okay," Aubrey says quietly. "I'm sorry too. For being a bitch about it, and for putting you in that position to start with."
"Thank you," Stacie says sincerely, and they lapse again into silence. It's awkward, and they each finish their drinks just for something to do. Stacie crumples her cup absentmindedly and the sound seems to jolt Aubrey back into speech.
"How have you been? Since the retreat, I mean."
"Oh, I've been okay. Beca and Chloe just about killed us in rehearsal, but it was worth it." She can't help the grin that spreads over her face.
Aubrey smiles and bites her lip, and Stacie has another sudden memory of Aubrey doing just that, except she was flat on her back with one hand tangled in Stacie's hair and the other at her jaw. She flushes and looks away.
"It really was. It was so awesome to get to sing with you guys one more time," Aubrey says. "Running the lodge is great and all, but I really, really missed performing."
"Yeah, I'll miss it too."
Again, there's silence, but this time Stacie breaks it before it gets too excruciating. "What's it like to run the retreat?"
"It's…interesting," Aubrey replies. "I see a lot of crazy shit, but I also get to help people bond, and seeing relationships form or be repaired is really rewarding. Plus, I get to boss people around, and we all know how much I like that." She winks, and something about it strikes Stacie as incredibly dirty. She has a fleeting thought that she really wouldn't mind Aubrey bossing her around, but she banishes it at once.
"That's amazing," she says. "I'm glad you found something you like doing."
"Yeah, me too." Aubrey pauses. "What about you? What are your plans?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure. I'm taking a year off before grad school, but I know I want to study something in the medical field. Maybe experimental medicine. I want to find a cure for lung cancer." She trails off and glues her eyes to the floor.
"Why lung cancer?" Aubrey asks carefully.
"That's what killed my dad," Stacie admits.
"I'm sorry," Aubrey says.
Stacie half-shrugs. "It was ages ago."
"I'm still sorry," Aubrey says, and lays a hand on her shoulder.
"Thank you," Stacie murmurs. Her body feels warm where Aubrey's hand rests and she glances at it reflexively. Aubrey blushes a little and withdraws, and Stacie instantly misses it.
"Sorry," Aubrey says.
"It's okay," Stacie says, and it's awkward again.
"I need another drink," Aubrey announces, and Stacie assumes she's just as sick of the tension between them as she is.
"Me too."
/
They split up after mixing drinks at either end of the table. Aubrey gets pulled away by Fat Amy and Stacie is snagged by a very drunk Chloe.
"Come dance with us!" Chloe begs.
"Who's 'us'?" Stacie asks suspiciously.
"Me and Beca, duh." Chloe rolls her eyes. "Come on."
/
An hour of heavy grinding between Beca and Chloe and multiple drinks later, she's close to hammered and has had more than enough of them groping each other, so she wanders away to look for Aubrey. She's drunk enough not to ask herself for an explanation, she just looks.
The hotel suite seems unnecessarily large and twisty, but she finally finds the blonde at the window, drink tipping in one hand.
"Bree?"
Aubrey turns around and squints at her. "Stace?"
"Yeah." Stacie leans a shoulder against the wall. "What are you doing over here by yourself?"
Instead of answering, Aubrey takes a long chug from her cup before dropping it on the floor and holding her arms out. "Come cuddle me."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?" Aubrey frowns, and it's so adorably sad that Stacie has to force herself not to go to her immediately.
"I think you know why," Stacie says.
"Please," Aubrey says sadly. "I'm lonely."
Stacie hesitates, but the tone in her voice isn't something she can ignore, so she goes to her and wraps her in a hug. It's blurry and she feels like falling over, but Aubrey's body feels just like she remembers against her own and she relaxes into the embrace with a sigh.
/
An indeterminate amount of time later, they're still pressed together, Aubrey's nose rubbing softly against Stacie's collarbone. It tickles, and every now and then she'll press a tiny kiss to the skin of Stacie's chest. It sends shivers through Stacie's body, and she's never been more grateful for their difference in height.
"I have my own room," Aubrey mumbles finally, and Stacie just about jumps out of her skin.
"Bree—"
"I want to take you to bed," Aubrey whispers, lips brushing her skin with every word. It's such a romantic thing to say.
"I want that, too," Stacie says, feeling suddenly miserable. "But I can't."
"Why?"
Stacie grasps for the words to explain herself, but her mind doesn't cooperate. She knows she should be angry at this, that Aubrey still has a boyfriend, that they're drunk and they'll definitely regret this in the morning. But, somehow, her brain doesn't keep up with her mouth and before she knows it, she's agreeing.
"Okay. Take me to bed."
Aubrey doesn't smile, doesn't do anything but silently extricate herself from the hug and lead the way out of the suite. They weave through the Bellas and out into the hall where the silence presses into Stacie's eardrums so violently that she suddenly wishes she were back in the party, but the door clicks shut behind them and then Aubrey's hand is in hers, leading her down the empty hallway.
/
Aubrey undresses her quickly, dropping the performance costume, piece by piece, onto the floor until Stacie stands in only her underwear. She drops immediately to her knees and drags her mouth over Stacie's thighs, nipping at the skin and drawing gasps from Stacie's open mouth. Her teeth bite firmly but her tongue soothes quickly over the sting, and Stacie knows she'll see the marks the next day.
Aubrey glances up at her for just a moment before her mouth slips between Stacie's legs, and Stacie's eyes slam shut and her head flies back against the door. "Oh my god."
"You're so wet," Aubrey murmurs, nudging Stacie's thigh open with her nose and flattening her tongue over the whole of her. Her fingers of one hand tap a rhythm against Stacie's hips and her other hand reaches up to stroke the underside of her breast. Stacie's chest heaves and she buries her hands in blonde hair, doing her best not to pull but probably failing. Her orgasm hits her hard and unexpectedly, just like the last time they were together, and she presses herself into the wall before sliding down into Aubrey's arms. She guides them to the bed and lays Stacie down, giving her no more than ten seconds to catch her breath before she claims her lips and slips two fingers into her.
Stacie's cry is lost in Aubrey's mouth and she wraps her legs around Aubrey's waist, kissing her desperation into her lips and scratching her short nails down Aubrey's smooth shoulders. Aubrey's lips move to her neck and Stacie's quiet moans fall unrestrained into the air, the only noise in the room aside from the soft rustling of sheets and Aubrey's erratic breathing.
Aubrey's thumb presses circles over her clit as her fingers rub perfectly inside of her, every stroke increasing the sensation until she comes for a second time with Aubrey's lips on her throat.
Aubrey still doesn't let up. She removes her hand but replaces it with her thigh, grinding it in slow circles between Stacie's legs and raising both hands to her chest where she cups her breasts and kneads them gently, thumbs brushing her nipples as she licks her way across her collarbone. "Aubrey," Stacie chokes out, almost too far gone to breathe. "Aubrey…"
It's the only thing she can think to say, and she repeats Aubrey's name as she comes, hard, for a third time and then pushes her away and closes her thighs, her entire body feeling electric but sated. She doesn't think anyone has ever pushed her three times in a row, and it's almost too much but at the same time it's the most perfect thing she's ever felt. It's a new level of feeling; her body feels unlocked in a way she isn't familiar with, but that she wants to recreate again and again.
"Kiss me," she whispers, and Aubrey complies at once. Their lips slide slowly together, noses brushing and sharing breaths. Stacie begins to reach down Aubrey's body but is stopped by a hand on her wrist. She starts to question it but is silenced by Aubrey's tongue flicking into her mouth and their fingers tangling together between their bodies.
/
They're woken sometime the next morning by an obnoxious beeping. Aubrey leans over to fumble for her phone and shut it off before resuming her position in Stacie's arms.
"What was that?" Stacie asks tiredly.
"Alarm."
"Oh, right." She tries to force herself awake, but she can tell she hasn't had enough sleep to sober up sufficiently. "What time is it?"
"Half past eight."
Stacie groans and rubs her eyes. She slept with her god damn contacts in again and the burning in her eyes is kind of making her want to kill herself.
She rolls over to nuzzle into Aubrey's cheek, throwing an arm across her ribcage and snuggling as far into her as she can. She's definitely still drunk, because she never pulls any of this morning-after-lovey-shit sober.
There's about thirty seconds of blissful silence before Stacie's phone rings and she grabs at it blindly, accepting the call without checking the name on the screen. "Hello?"
"Stacie? Oh, thank god, we didn't know where you were."
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm fine."
"Where are you?" Chloe demands, clearly concerned. "I thought you were staying with Amy, but we all just came down for breakfast and no one knew where you had disappeared to last night."
There's a pause, in which Stacie's brain makes a valiant effort to come up with an excuse, but nothing makes itself available. "I'll explain later, okay?"
"Okay," Chloe says, clearly extremely suspicious. "Are you coming to breakfast?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," Stacie sighs. "Sorry, I totally forgot about it."
"It's fine," Chloe reassures. "Take your time."
"Thanks, Chlo. See you in a few." She hangs up and lets the phone fall out of her hand onto the mattress. "We have to go to breakfast," she whispers to Aubrey.
"I know. I just remembered that's what I set the alarm for. Chloe threatened me with certain death if I skipped it. Apparently it's some last Bellas bonding activity." Aubrey's voice is thick with sleep and her makeup is adorably smudged. She stretches her arms lazily and offers a smile. "How did you sleep?"
"Pretty well." The normal-talk is freaking Stacie out a little bit, to be honest, but she tries to ignore the feeling. "You?"
"Really well."
"That's good."
There's a short pause, before Aubrey clears her throat and asks, "Should we head down to breakfast?"
/
There's a bit of a dilemma about what Stacie is supposed to wear since she doesn't have the key card to her own room (it's buried somewhere in Beca and Chloe's suite and Fat Amy has the only other one), but Aubrey manages to scrounge up a t-shirt and pair of running shorts that Stacie pulls on quickly. They're too short for her but it's not that far from something she'd normally wear, so hopefully no one will notice anything amiss.
They leave the room and step into the elevator in silence. They're on the ninth floor, so it's a slow ride down and Stacie grits her teeth to keep herself from opening her mouth. They stand a few inches apart, elbows just a hair's breadth away from touching.
Stacie's got her eyes locked on the floor counter, watching it slide excruciatingly slowly from seven to six, when she feels Aubrey's hand weave into her own and suddenly she's pinned against the doors, Aubrey's mouth open against hers. She automatically raises her hands to cup Aubrey's jaw and flips them around until Aubrey is the one against the door. She trails wet kisses along Aubrey's neck, scraping her teeth roughly against her pulse. Aubrey gasps beneath her, and Stacie's got one hand slipping under the elastic of her sweats when the elevator dings. The doors slide open just as they leap out of the way.
Aubrey jumps back, running a shaky hand through her hair. She shoots a look at Stacie that is simultaneously apologetic and seductive, and Stacie just shakes her head and leads the way into the lobby, trying valiantly to control her breathing and praying to all the gods in existence that there's no physical evidence of what they've just been doing.
"Hey," she says, sliding into the chair next to Beca. "Sorry we're late."
Beca, who appears massively hungover, only shrugs. Aubrey takes the last seat, which is next to Cynthia Rose and directly across from Stacie. They avoid eye contact, but ten minutes into breakfast, their legs are tangled around each other and Aubrey's toe is rubbing against the inside of Stacie's knee, making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on her pancakes.
/
Chloe, who, as usual, has annoying avoided a hangover, announces that they have a busy day of sightseeing planned. The groups lets out a collective groan and everyone sinks into the table.
"Don't whine," Chloe says brightly. "It's Copenhagen! It's a beautiful day, it's Europe…not to mention basically the gay capital of the country," she winks with a glance at Beca.
Beca finally emerges from her hoodie, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head and glowering. "What does that have to do with me?"
Chloe just smiles understandingly at her and pulls Beca's hood back over her head. "Don't worry about it."
Stacie can feel Aubrey's gaze burning a massive hole in the side of her head, but she doesn't dare look up.
/
They whittle the day away visiting small shops before Aubrey drags them all to the Rosenborg Castle Gardens, informing them that gardens are absolutely not a waste of time and ignoring the complaints.
They stay for exactly an hour, everyone fiddling with their phones and meandering slowly down the paths, paying no attention to the displays. After that, Aubrey waves them off and everyone scatters, glad to be released. It isn't like Aubrey really has any power over them, it's just that following her orders is so ingrained into all of them that no one has the balls to argue.
Stacie hangs back and waits until they've all left before she approaches Aubrey, who's studying a strange and somewhat disturbing statue of a lion ripping apart a horse. "What's that?" she asks quietly, and Aubrey jumps a little.
"Stacie! I didn't know anyone was still here."
"Yeah, well. I didn't want to abandon you," Stacie says with a smile, cocking her head to the side. "I think this place is kind of cool."
That's a blatant lie; she doesn't find the place at all interesting. She'd much rather be at a science museum, but staying is worth it to see the grin spread across Aubrey's face. "You're sweet." She turns back to the statue and gestures at it. "It's called The Horse and the Lion, and it was commissioned by Christian IV in 1617. It kind of represents a Persian legend about the battle of light and dark," she explains. Stacie does her best to appear interested, but Aubrey glances at her and isn't fooled.
"You don't like history?" she asks with a half-smile.
Stacie shrugs guiltily. "Not really."
"Why not?"
"I don't like to think about the past," she says quietly. "I'd rather just concentrate on what's happening now."
Aubrey gives her a long look before returning her gaze to the statue. "I love history. We wouldn't exist without it."
That's a fair point, and Stacie is left to consider it as she follows Aubrey along the path. Chloe texts them a few minutes later to say that they've made dinner reservations and that they'll meet them at the restaurant, so Stacie leads the way back to the exit. Aubrey walks just a half-step behind her, close enough for their hands to brush.
/
Dinner is a subdued gathering. There's a distinct feeling of sadness among them; everyone is all too aware of the fact that not long after they leave Denmark, they're going to scatter across the rest of the world with only rushed promises to call holding the relationships together.
Stacie is next to Aubrey but is almost regretting that decision. Aubrey's leg is touching her own and every time they touch all Stacie can feel is guilt. She isn't sure whether she hates herself more for successfully putting Aubrey's relationship with Donald out of her mind for as long as she has, or what she did with her over the last two days. Stacie moves her leg away from Aubrey's, hoping she won't notice, but Aubrey shoots her a questioning glance and Stacie avoids it.
/
As soon as it's acceptable to leave the table, Stacie excuses herself, claiming sleep deprivation and stealing the room key from Amy's purse.
She knows Aubrey will be right behind her when she reaches the curb, so she doesn't bother turning around when she asks, "Why are you following me?"
"Why do you think?" Aubrey's voice is not seductive as Stacie had anticipated; instead, she sounds hurt and a little bit angry.
Stacie hails a cab before turning to face her. "I don't know, Aubrey. I'd think that maybe you'd feel just a tiny bit bad about what we've done."
Aubrey lets out a huff. "Really? You're bringing this up again?"
"What, you expect me to just ignore the fact that you have a boyfriend?"
"I don't want to talk about him with you!"
"Are you kidding me right now?" Stacie asks, incredulous. "You expect me to fuck you and then just shut up and pretend you haven't cheated? Why are we even doing this?"
"I want you," Aubrey says, sounding like she's holding back tears.
Stacie doesn't have any room for sympathy. "Then break up with him."
"And then what?"
"What do you mean?"
"If I lose him, I won't have anyone," Aubrey says.
"What are you talking about? You have family, friends…you could probably pick whoever you wanted to date and they'd have no complaints." She opens the door of the taxi.
"What about you?" Aubrey whispers.
Stacie pauses. "What about me?"
"Could I pick you?"
Stacie could choose to melt over those words, to fall into Aubrey's arms and kiss her, but she can't trust her now. "You've lost your chance," she says, and the words feel cold as they drop from her mouth. "I'm done, Aubrey. If you want anything with me, you need to get rid of him and then maybe we'll talk. But I am done with this until then."
"Stacie—" Aubrey starts, reaching out a hand to lay on her shoulder.
"Get off," Stacie chokes. She hates that she's crying now, and she turns her face away, getting fully into the taxi.
"Stacie, please, wait!"
"I'm done," she says, again. "Don't call me."
She slams the door and grits out the address of the hotel, wiping her eyes furiously and letting the cab take her away from something she knows will never end well, no matter how much she years to continue it.