A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Look what I've got for you!

I know this is a few days later than I promised it would be, but honestly, I can't feel too bad for it; I've moved three times this summer - two have been continent hops, and the third was a cross-country move.

That, and I watched part of Fifty Shades (because), and I was so disgusted with Christian Grey that to be perfectly honest I wanted nothing to do with this subject for a couple of days.

But then, after a while, Bechloe won out. Shocker.

Popularity in this is actually going *up*, not down. I'm really surprised, guys! Thank you so much! I was honestly blown away by the response to the first chapter - I didn't think I would be getting *anything* like the reaction I got. And I love seeing that you guys are everywhere in the world; this fandom has really spread itself out haha.

Thank you all so, so much for the lovely reviews. I will respond individually to each member review, but for the guests who can't/don't sign in, I'll respond at the end of each chapter. Several of you (guests and members) have expressed that it's refreshing to read a BDSM story that deals with the complex nuances of such a relationship rather than just the sex. I'm glad you think so. I'm trying very hard to convey the complexity of D/s relationships while still keeping a plotline going. I'm also a switch, so while the somewhat random changes in POV may be confusing, that's me realizing that there's something that should be expressed for one of them that needs to happen right then.

Let me know your thoughts, guys; if something's not working for you, if there are any typos (it's late at night here), if you'd like to see more/less of something, or if you just have general comments, I'd love to hear them all. Thank you so much for reading.

Loves!

Teddie


Something soft trails lightly down her face and traces the smooth line of her jaw. Not opening her eyes, Chloe sleepily bats it away with an unintelligible grunt. The sensation disappears for the briefest of moments before returning on the other side of her face.

"Rise and shine, honeypie." Sapphire eyes flash open. Stacie barely has time to stumble out of the way before Chloe has flopped out of the bed in a tangle of sheets and dropped obediently to her knees, head bowed to expose the pale, slender line of her neck. Eyes fastened on the floor, she waits. "Chloe?" The sound of the female voice comes as a surprise, and she raises her eyes as recognition flashes through her.

"Oh! Stacie – I – I forgot where I was – I – "

"No need to worry, sweetie," Stacie croons, crouching down on endless legs to tilt Chloe's chin upwards. "I understand. Here – let's get you up." Chloe accepts the hand offered to her and hoists herself to her feet, only to stagger backwards against the bedframe in shock as a wave of achiness seizes her.

"Fuck." Stacie's chuckle is concerned, and the clash of sentiments is indecipherable in Chloe's sleep-hazed brain.

"You all right there, Ginger?" Chloe tries to twist her features into an expression that doesn't display total agony.

"Sure."

"Honesty, hun." Chloe wrinkles her nose.

"I . . . kind of. I'm a little stiff, but it should pass. I've got a pretty high pain tolerance."

"Now that's a pretty load of bullshit," a low voice drawls from across the room. Both Chloe and Stacie start; Beca must have sauntered in when they were busy talking, and is now leaning against the doorframe. Her stance is casual, but her arms are folded across her chest, and her stormy eyes are narrowed in such a way that Chloe can't decipher whether she's angry or amused.

"Hey Shortstack. Have a nice shower?" Beca permits her eyes to roll in response to Stacie's jesting tone.

"A lovely one; thanks to your habit of taking forty-minute showers, I was left with no hot water." Stacie only shrugs innocently.

"Remember that I'm twice your size, Beca-boo; I'm sorry that these gorgeous legs take longer to wash than yours. You see, some of us have actually grown since third grade."

"Eat a dick, Stacie," Beca tosses back.

"With pleasure," is Stacie's prompt reply. Beca glares harshly at her for a moment before allowing her features to break out into a grin.

"You know you love me, Legs."

"That I do, Becs, that I do. Shall I leave you to it?"

"Yeah, I've got this; thanks for everything. I'll see you tonight?" Beca queries.

"Maybe; I'll have to see what Aubrey's plans are for the night. If she wants to hang, I'll stay over, but otherwise I'll be back before one-ish." Beca winks.

"Oh? Who's going to hang this time? I know you said you were having a sleep over last time, but judging by those bruises you were sporting, I think it was maybe more of a sleep under, if you know what I mean," she retorts sassily, with an impish grin. Stacie flushes beet red and whacks Beca on the arm.

"Shut up!"

"Oh, so it's true! I knew it! Legs is a switch! Who would've guessed?" She's wearing a smirk that makes something in Chloe tangle up and pull itself tight. She suppresses a shudder, grateful that the two other women are too occupied to notice her response.

Stacie seems uncertain whether to laugh or hit Beca, and after a moment of confliction, ends up tickling the smaller woman briefly as she exits the room.

"You're a bitch!" echoes down the hall.

"Love you!" Beca calls back, and chuckles to herself lowly, shaking her head. Her silky hair is down this morning, spilling in precise little curls over the shoulders of her blouse. Chloe eyes her briefly and decides quickly that she likes the look. "Morning, Chloe. You're staring." Ashamed at being caught, Chloe ducks her head.

"Sorry," she mumbles. Nervously, she watches her hands open and close around fistfuls of the comforter; it feels as though with the interruption of sleep she has become uncertain again of how to act in Beca's presence. The brunette has been wonderful to her, truly, but she can't help feeling a little hesitant. Beca is domme, after all, and with the immediate trauma of the previous night lessened, she doesn't know if she will be required to be more obedient, more respectful, or if Beca will continue not to mind her behavior.

She's glad that she didn't see her immediate reaction upon waking; something about their current relationship makes her unwilling for Beca to see her kneeling in submission – not because it makes her vulnerable, but because it wasn't Beca who required her to kneel.

It's an interesting thought, and she doesn't quite know what to make of it.

"It's quite all right, Chloe," Beca reassures. "In fact, I find it rather flattering. But," she adds, her face growing slightly stern, "You'd better be careful of where your eyes wander; some people don't take kindly to being stared at." It isn't an admonishment; only a caution, and Chloe is grateful. She doesn't enjoy being punished for a first offense – besides using common sense, she often has no way to know better. Mark never understood that; he took all of her mistakes as personal insults, no matter how trivial they may have been. He never explained to her why something she did was inappropriate, leaving her confused and liable to do it again. He never been one for calm chastisement, either; he would only grow angry with her, and punish her quickly, as though it was a job he had little time for.

Chloe, though in the back of her mind, had always felt that something about that was a little off. At first, it hadn't been something that she could place; it had been more of a general feeling that something was intrinsically wrong. The majority of her brain, occupied with being a sub, hadn't felt uncomfortable with it, but she had still been plagued with a nagging suspicion that things weren't all quite right. It had taken her longer than a year to pick apart her own reactions and decipher exactly what the issue was.

Mark's punishments had been a duty to him, and that was where things had gone wrong. Before entering the lifestyle, Chloe had done a little research, and it had been after a particularly uncomfortable punishment that some of the information had come flooding back. Punishments were supposed to be issued for the purposes of teaching and mutual enjoyment. It had been that way in the beginning – for a time, anyway. Chloe had enjoyed being punished, and along with that, she had needed it, in a way. For the roughly ten days for which it had lasted, she had recognized that it instilled in her responsibility, which she had always lacked. Misbehavior brought about consequences; that logic was simple, black-and-white, and easy for her to understand, and it had taught her quickly and well.

Then it had gotten more complicated as Mark had begun acting as though it were a job he wanted to get over with, and she had lost the feeling it had given her. Her learning had become a chore for him, and because she lived to serve him, it was wrong to burden him with needs that he so obviously wanted little to do with. She had felt guilty for troubling him with it, and at the same time a little desperate for having lost something that had proved valuable.

Now, freed from that cumbersome guilt and confusion, she looks up into Beca's steady eyes and wonders, not for the first time, if she sees the promise of being able to regain what she has lost. She knows that Beca could help her acquire that knowledge again – or perhaps she doesn't know, precisely, but she has been consumed since late last night with a significant feeling that it will prove to be true. If only Beca is willing to help her, Chloe senses that she can relearn. She is almost entirely certain that she could flourish beneath Beca's hand, and she's eager to experience that growth, if Beca will only allow it.

"Good morning," she replies politely after a moment. "Thank you; I will be careful of what I stare at." A smile spreads across Beca's face; she steps out of the doorway and crosses the room to stand before the bedside. Chloe feels warm hands cup her cheeks and jaw and tilt her face upwards, thumbs drawing little patterns into her temples. She brings her eyes up obediently to meet Beca's, and decides that the domme's eyes are the color of thunderheads, grey-blue and full of promise. Her breath catches. She can't help it; Beca's gaze is so deep and captivating, and her body is right up close to Chloe's, warm and softly scented and so present.

It proves to be a little overwhelming so soon after waking up, and Chloe is forced to shut her eyes in a long blink in order to refrain from falling into an incoherent mess.

"Chloe? Did you hear me? I asked how you slept last night." Chloe tunes back in hurriedly, uncomfortable to find that she missed the brunette speaking. She blinks rapidly to clear her thoughts before replying.

"Oh, I – yes, I did," she says quietly. Beca lets out a low laugh.

"I figured you had, seeing as you were passed out on top of me when I woke up," she chuckles, and Chloe feels instant repentance fill her body. She blushes red and attempts to stammer out an apology.

"I – I didn't – it wasn't – I didn't mean to – "

"Chloe, relax," Beca interrupts her smoothly, and Chloe obeys, taking a long, deep breath to settle her brain. "I'm not mad at you for coming into my room; I understand that you needed contact. However, I am not pleased that you did it without asking for help. You could have put your safety in jeopardy, trying to find your way in a strange, darkened house when you were ill. You might have gotten lost, or tumbled into something in the dark. You knew how unwell you were; it was irresponsible of you not to call for help." She expects to see remorse on Chloe's face, but far to the contrary, the redhead appears to be ecstatic. "Chloe?" she asks, when the girl's lips spread in a wide grin. "Chloe, what is it?"

"You explained it!" Chloe squeals, and the sound makes Beca jump. She frowns.

"I explained it? What do you mean, Chloe?" The redhead's grin only grows wider, and she fairly bounces on the edge of the mattress.

"You explained to me what I did wrong!" she repeats excitedly. Beca's frown only deepens.

"Of course I did, Chloe; that's how people learn. And it's not that I think you couldn't normally manage finding a room by yourself; you're perfectly capable of doing that on your own under normal circumstances. It's only that you were having trouble walking, and the house is unfamiliar, so you were at a disadvantage trying to find me in the dark." Chloe shakes her head.

"I know that," she says pointedly. "But you told me why it was wrong, and it made sense!" Before Beca can reply, long, skinny arms have been flung around her, and she finds herself being pulled into a hug. At first, startled, she doesn't return the gesture, but when Chloe doesn't let go, her arms instinctively go up to wrap around the thinner body and pull the other girl close. It's comfortable, though surprising, and she finds that she quite likes the feeling of Chloe clinging to her. Trust is being placed in her, and it pleases Beca greatly; it's a great deal of the reason why she got involved in the lifestyle in the first place. Knowing that she is providing an anchor for somebody's faith warms her from head to toe and fills her with a sense of responsibility and protectiveness. It emphasizes her own need to be responsible; she learned early on that it's one thing to mess up when all you have at stake are your own problems, but when the price of a mistake includes someone else, it is critical to pay strict attention and to act purposefully and with certainty and care.

It's a good exercise for someone like her, who is by nature impulsive and a little bit rebellious. It steadies her.

Not to mention that Chloe's face is dangerously close to her cleavage right now, and that does a little something to sway her thoughts in an intriguing and increasingly inappropriate direction.

She allows Chloe to hold on for a full minute before breaking away. Contact is evidently something Chloe needs, and from what she knows of the redhead's predicament prior to the previous night, she can understand why, at least on a certain level. She can't empathize; she's a domme, and though she is fond of contact with submissives, she pulls her enjoyment from its conceptual appeal – she likes to provide comfort and reassurance. She doesn't crave it in the same manner or for the same reasons as a submissive would; for Beca, loving contact with a submissive means a mistress desiring something for her sub's sake. When she does crave it, it is Beca desiring to share something intimate with a romantic interest.

She's heard that the lines can grow a little blurry, but she's yet to experience it; she's never had someone in her life who is both a submissive and a lover. At the present time, she is valiantly working to push away the subtle hints her brain is tossing at her regarding such a conundrum and Chloe. That may be a perfectly reasonable scenario later on, but right now she has more demanding issues at hand.

In all honesty, though, she wants it; she wants it more than she can express. She's still going to nobly insist that Chloe be certain of her desires before jumping into anything, but she, Beca, doesn't need to do nearly as much considering as she probably should. In fact, her stance on the matter is surprisingly simply put; she wants what's best for Chloe, above all, which is why she's hesitating, but she also wants Chloe.

It's not just the physical attraction, though that's absolutely there. How can it not be? Chloe is gorgeous; beautiful in a fresh, ageless, elegant sort of way – though unconsciously so, she wears the air of a sophisticated, classic beauty. Beca can feel the heat build all throughout her body every time the redhead's close, and it's not quite like anything she's experienced before. She watches Chloe's lips when she speaks, the anxious flutter of her slender hands when she's worried, and she can't help but imagine what it would feel like to have her closer.

Even still, the attraction isn't merely physical; Beca can feel a pull, stronger than she'd care to admit, that draws her to Chloe. She's seen enough in odd moments to understand that beneath her temporary anxiety the redhead is bright and warm, and, while Beca wouldn't necessarily call her carefree, she does present a certain attitude of acceptance that if she considered it long enough would make Beca a little envious. She wants to get to know Chloe on a deeper, more intimate level, and even that is leaving her domme side out of it. Add in the intense need that Beca feels to protect, to own and control and nurture, and it's safe to say that the brunette is more than a little overwhelmed with desire.

But for the moment, at least, she needs to stop focusing on it; Chloe is needy right now, and that's where all of Beca's priorities lie.

The redhead has ceased clinging to her with quite the same level of desperation, but all the same is still holding on tightly enough that Beca's ribs feel constricted. She runs a gentle hand down Chloe's hair and taps her shoulder, signaling to her that the time has come to let go. Chloe immediately pulls back. Her expression is still warm, open, and it initiates a short series of stutters in Beca's heartbeat.

"Thank you," she breathes, and Beca has to fight to steady her pulse before answering. She should not allow herself to be this affected by Chloe right now; it will be acceptable later if the redhead stays, but she is already balancing her duty to care for Chloe with her inner domme's instinct to take over. It's been a constant ebb and flow of persuasive energy in both directions, and at the moment, she honestly has no idea which side is going to win out. She figures she ought to aim for a healthy balance and then proceed from there. She's confident that she can achieve it – she's nothing if not good at managing the flip sides of her personality – but she hopes that it will eventually morph into something that she isn't required to manage.

"You're welcome," she answers genuinely, taking a step back. She doesn't want to move away, but right now, if she wants to get the day started, she needs to put a little distance between them. "I'm sorry to wake you, but if I had let you remain in bed any longer, you would have a difficult time falling asleep tonight." Chloe understands; sleeping in late has never been her speed. She has always been able to fall asleep late and rise early; that the events of the previous night exhausted her to such an extent says something significant about her overall condition.

She finds it troublesome.

"That's all right; thank you," she grants softly. "I hope that I didn't disrupt any plans for the morning by sleeping so late." Beca shakes her head with a glint of certainty in her eyes that Chloe instantly appreciates. Honesty and steadiness are qualities that she hadn't known she had been deprived of in interactions before last night. Now, having been granted them for the first time in several years, she values their availability.

"Not at all; I don't typically have plans this early. Besides, you take precedence, so my plans right now are oriented around you – I was thinking we could cook up something for breakfast, and then spend part of the morning getting you settled in. What do you think?" Chloe stares. It's been so long since somebody has asked her opinion that at first she is at a loss as to how to respond. Besides, Beca just essentially admitted that she's her number one priority, and Chloe lets that sit warmly for a moment in the pit of her stomach before gathering her thoughts and answering.

Searching for an honest opinion takes a moment longer than she's accustomed to; normally, she would offer a vague murmur of compliance regardless of her thoughts, but Beca's presence has prompted her to be honest from the beginning. It hasn't even occurred to her to lie to the brunette. She wonders how much that has to do with their connection rather than mere natural inclination.

"I'd like that," she decides, and feels immediate relief at having spoken her true thoughts. "Should I get dressed first?" It's not the most critical question on her list, but it's the first one that comes to mind, and the easiest to answer.

Evidently, Beca feels much the same.

"That would probably be wise," she affirms smoothly. "Stacie brought you some more clothes to choose from – I trust that you can handle that on your own?" Chloe's gaze flits over to the chair by the door, where she sees that Stacie has left a large pile of clothing – some previously worn, some clearly new – for her to wear. Quickly, she assesses her ability to dress herself; though her body is quite stiff and sore, she normally wouldn't ask for assistance. But Beca has made it clear that she is willing to help her with anything.

At the same time, Chloe knows that she can take care of herself; she's not helpless. It's just that it feels nice, after two years of only a base level of attention, to be taken care of so thoroughly. She's forgotten on some level how to deal with everyday issues, and with that comes the fact that she can only perform those simple tasks to a mediocre degree.

She can't decide whether she needs Beca to help her or not.

"Chloe, look at me." Thankfully, the brunette seems to have sensed her uncertainty. Chloe obediently looks up. "If you would like help getting dressed because you're in too much pain to do it yourself, I will help you. However, if you want me to help you because it's easier that way, or because you don't want to do it yourself, then I'm not going to help. I'm more than willing to take care of you, but I need you to be able to function on your own. Once you have achieved that, we can discuss this again. If I assist you with such a thing later on, it will be because I as your mistress will be concerned with your actions." Beca doesn't exactly sound regretful as she lets the words slide from her mouth, but there's a clear tone of reluctance that goes along with her determination not to rush things. Nevertheless, her words cause Chloe's expression to instantly light up in glee.

"You mean you'll do it?" she asks breathlessly, not seeming to realize that she has stood up in her anticipation. "You'll be my mistress?"

Beca isn't exactly uncomfortable, per se, but she seems to be reconsidering speaking so soon. She can sense that her expression is giving away her thoughts, and she doesn't like it. To solve the issue, she allows her domme mask to fall into place, concealing her inner turmoil. It's probably not the wisest way of coping, but it's quick, and it's certainly effective.

"I told you that I will consider it once you have gotten comfortable here, and that hasn't changed," she responds brusquely. "Your move last night did prompt me to go more in-depth with my thoughts concerning it, and I will admit that I'm not adverse to the idea, but my decision still stands. We will discuss this again once you have settled in here." Beca manages to sound stern, calm, and reassuring all at once, and though she isn't ecstatic about the answer, Chloe feels herself physically relax at the combination of sentiments. She figures that a maybe is much better than a no.

Besides, she has plenty of ways to convince Beca while she bides her time; the domme may remain unconvinced, but Chloe is almost entirely certain of her decision. It's a want and a need, and although she hasn't been wonderful at allowing herself the privilege of indulging in such things, she sees no reason to deny herself the luxury when it comes to Beca. Beca understands her situation, and she is knowledgeable in all things regarding it. She won't judge Chloe for her needs, and that, combined with her obvious draw to Chloe, convinces the redhead that this decision won't be hanging in limbo for long.

"I will go get a head start on breakfast while you dress." Beca changes the subject as quickly and smoothly as she can, but to Chloe, the abruptness is still obvious. It's clear that Beca is a little uncomfortable with her own response to the question they've been dancing around and wants to reassert herself by carrying out simple, familiar actions. "Do you remember how to get to the kitchen? If not, I can wait outside until you're done, and we can go together."

The word together is more than a little tempting to Chloe, but she understands Beca's need to separate herself from the situation. It's something that she's always needed to do herself, but in the past few years, it hasn't been so easy. She welcomes it now, knowing that Beca is stepping away not only for her own sake, but for Chloe's as well.

"I can find it again, I'm sure," she assures, actually managing to instill a little confidence in her words. "I'll only be a minute." Beca nods quickly, firmly, and exits almost faster than Chloe can blink. She stares bemusedly at the empty doorway for a moment after the brunette has left, a little caught up in her thoughts. It takes her a moment to bring her mind back to the task at hand and turn to the piles of clothing waiting to be sifted through.

She was right, she discovers; it's fairly easy for her to locate the kitchen again, despite the confused state she was in last night. She enters to find Beca moving busily back and forth between the counter and the refrigerator, clearly somewhat harried. The shorter woman is struggling to slice peppers with a butter knife, and from the looks of it, she isn't having much luck.

Chloe finds a small delight in stepping up calmly beside Beca, choosing a real utensil from the knife block, and taking over the chopping as though she knows precisely what she's doing. She doesn't see Beca's mouth hanging agape behind her.

"How did you know how to do that?" the brunette splutters, looking more than a little miffed. Chloe lets out a quiet chuckle.

"It's not that hard, Beca; nobody has ever or will ever be able to cut anything with a butter knife. Haven't you ever done this before?" she teases. Their casual contact the previous night and this morning has caused her to grow even more comfortable in Beca's presence. Chloe's moods may be volatile – she has always been well aware of it – but while her thoughts may be confused, she always knows what her actions mean.

That being said, she's prepared for a little backlash for her jib, but she isn't expecting fingers to snake themselves into the hair at the base of her neck and grip the roots strongly. It takes her more than a little by surprise, and she nearly drops the knife, but the sensation is not unwelcome. If anything, it's exactly what she's been craving, and Chloe finds her eyes slipping shut and a soft hum of contentment escaping her as her entire body relaxes. She sets the knife down automatically and leans into the forceful touch with a sound in her chest that can only be described as a purr.

Without warning, the hand releases her, and Chloe's eyebrows pinch into a frown at the loss of contact. Her eyes open to find Beca staring up at her with an expression that's a little like shock.

"Chloe?"

"Beca." She doesn't know how else to respond. She's confused, and much more than a little disappointed. Why did Beca let her go? It had felt so good.

"What made you do that?" Beca is frowning too, and if Chloe could see them both in a mirror right now, she would laugh at their identicalness.

But she doesn't laugh. She doesn't understand; it seems that she's not the only one who gets incoherent when she's caught off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"What made you react that way?" Beca insists, stepping a little into her personal space. Chloe can't help but think that she doesn't mind her bubble being invaded when Beca is the one doing the trespassing; besides, she's Chloe Beale – she doesn't exactly have much of a regard for personal space no matter what the circumstances.

"It felt good," she answers honestly. She watches as Beca's eyebrows lift questioningly.

"I gathered that much. What I mean is, what made it feel good?" the brunette probes, and Chloe understands. It's a fairly analytical question, but it makes sense to her that way; it makes her able to answer it to the fullest extent.

"That it was demanding. That you put me under your control. That it was you doing it to me," she answers frankly, and watches as Beca's eyebrows go up even further at her response.

"I see. And what about me makes that so significant?" Beca sounds skeptical, but Chloe doesn't hesitate. In fact, she jumps at the opportunity to reiterate the message that she's been trying to put across since last night. She makes sure that their gazes are locked directly as she replies, her voice steady and certain. She's going to let it all out – better now than later – and she wants Beca to hear every word for what it is.

"I feel a draw to you, Beca. And before you say anything, it's not just because you got me out of a tough situation. I knew that I needed to get out anyways; you just happened to facilitate that. But I feel something for you beyond that; beyond what I can explain. I don't totally understand it yet, but I know that it's pulling me towards you. I used to always follow my heart, Beca, before I got into the mess you found me in; that's why I stayed so long in college, and why I did what I did to try to get a job that I was in no way officially qualified for. I stopped doing that two years ago, but now that I'm away from that, I can do it again. And since the moment you untied me last night, my heart has been telling me that I need you, Beca. In more ways than one. In more ways that I know, actually; all I know is that I need you. I've been in a shitty situation in this lifestyle, but my needs regarding it haven't changed; if anything, they've grown stronger for lack of being addressed. Now I want to experience it for real, and you're everything I could ever ask for in a domme and more. But it's not just that – I want to get to know you, too; not just as a Mistress, though I do want that – God, Beca, I want it," she says desperately. "I want all of that, but I also want to get to know Beca, because you're a wonderful person and, like I said, I'm drawn to you in more ways than one. And I know that you feel something for me too; otherwise you wouldn't be doing as much as you are. What you've done for me far surpasses what would be customary for a domme who only wanted to do her duty. So I wish you would stop dancing around this thing between us and just let it happen already."

Chloe is pretty sure she's never seen anyone look as thunderstruck as Beca does in that moment. It takes a good minute and a half for the domme to stop working her jaw around silent words and actually start to choke out a response. It sounds like she's about to try to say several things at once, and Chloe, anticipating one of them, quickly adds on to her speech before the words can escape.

"And don't give me any more of that 'wanting me to be comfortable' crap; I know you think it's in my best interests to get used to being around you before I make a decision, but damn it Beca, I'm already more certain than I could ever be, and if I end up changing my mind, I'll just tell you about it. Nothing's wrong with starting something and then deciding not to do it anymore, but I already know that I won't be doing that."

"I . . ." At first, Beca appears to be lost for words. Her mouth moves soundlessly, her stormy eyes conflicted. She appears to be considering something, and knowing how vital their exchange is to the future she hopes for, Chloe waits patiently for her to find her words.

When she finally does, it's not what she was expecting, and judging by the look on Beca's face, it's not what she anticipated saying, either.

"I hope you don't. Start something and then change your mind." She definitely doesn't look like she meant to say it; her cheeks flush and her stormy eyes widen and her eyebrows rise up higher on her forehead than Chloe thinks they should be able to go. It only takes an instant before she looks exceedingly uncomfortable, and Chloe feels guilt rush through her like a tidal wave. She probably shouldn't have been so forward with Beca; not after the brunette had told her so many times that the conversation needed to wait.

Contritely, she reaches out to lay her hand over Beca's on the countertop, and fights a smile when the domme instinctively flips her hand over to intertwine their fingers.

"Beca . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that so soon. It's my fault; I was baiting you, and I know that I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position. I can wait to discuss this, like you said. Please don't feel like you need to say anything now." The brunette actually blushes, and for a moment, she refuses to meet Chloe's gaze. It's uncharacteristic, especially for someone who is normally so collected and in control, and Chloe knows that she's pushed it too far.

"Chloe, I – "

"Beca, please. It can wait." She smiles reassuringly at Beca, who looks up at her for a brief moment, and then returns to chopping up vegetables as though no interlude has taken place.

Beca watches her for a minute before saying softly, "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I should know better than that."

"Beca, really, it's all my – "

"No, Chloe. I should have known better. Let's finish making breakfast, okay?" Chloe hums out a response, not wanting to speak for fear of pushing the conversation. She knows that they need to stop now before they turn this into an actual argument. Fighting with Beca isn't what she wants, and it goes against her instincts to challenge her. She can bring it up again later when they're both more prepared to sit down and have an actual discussion without adding to the discomfort they're both feeling right now.

After breakfast, Beca brings up another point that Chloe had been debating whether or not to introduce. Obviously, she knows that she can't keep wearing Stacie's clothes forever, and she had figured that the brunette was aware of that as well. Beca asks her, simply put, if she has any clothes to call her own, and she does. She just doesn't want anything to do with their acquisition.

"They're . . . you know . . . at his place," she reveals uncomfortably in response to Beca's query. "I would go get them, but if he's there, I'd really rather not face him, you know?" Beca nods solemnly, understanding. Personally, she would love to encounter this bastard and lay into him about his treatment of Chloe, but she can understand why the redhead wants nothing to do with the asshole. She didn't exactly give him her two-weeks' notice, and he isn't likely to have taken her disappearance well.

"I could ask Stacie to go, if you tell me where your clothes are in the house," the brunette debates dubiously. "But he could report her for trespassing, and I don't really want to put her in that position." Considering the options, Chloe bites her lip in a way that makes Beca's imagination temporarily run wild.

"I don't either. I guess . . . maybe I'd feel all right going back there, as long as I didn't have to go alone," she says slowly.

"If I went with you, you mean?"

"I suppose."

"Yes or no, Chloe?" She may not be the girl's domme – yet – but Beca can't help letting that side of her out on occasion. It's like living with people of a different culture – eventually, picking up some of their habits is unavoidable.

"Yes. I mean, I'd feel better if you came with me." That's all she needs to hear. Beca stands.

"Very well, then. Is there a specific time we should go – say, when he will or will not be there?" she questions, clearing their breakfast dishes. Inwardly, she notes the way that Chloe automatically moves to take over the task, and she holds back a grin. With the immediate negative effects of it swiftly dispersing, Chloe is being left with a fine residue of healthy, instinctive reactions that seem to be a product of her personality rather than the way she has been treated. Being a submissive seems to be almost as deeply ingrained in who Chloe is as having red hair.

Chloe debates for a moment, not seeming to notice that while she thinks she has been absently working to clean nearly the entire kitchen. Beca lets her, knowing that to point it out would only make her self-conscious.

"I . . . I guess now would be as good a time as any. It's still fairly early for him; he usually isn't back from a client's until around one or two." Beca tries to ignore the way her blood burns with anger at that statement, but her resolve crumbles when she sees a faint, uncomfortable flush creeping up Chloe's cheeks. She's lost count of the number of times she's seen the girl blush, and she usually finds it endearing, but knowing where this particular one stems from makes her instantly angrier.

She moves across the room to stand beside Chloe and remove her hands gently from the sink, where they are scrubbing unnecessarily at the stainless steel.

"Chloe."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Sorry." She turns redder. "I mean, I . . ."

"He made you feel inadequate, didn't he? Like you didn't satisfy him enough. Like you weren't doing your duty." She knows that it might not be considered proper to bluntly read into Chloe's emotions this way, but she feels instinctively that the redhead needs to let out a little of her inner angst if she's wants to be able to let go of the worries Beca knows she harbors about their bond. She doesn't want to become engaged in a repeat of her previous emotions, and Beca knows from experience that the best way to prevent that from happening is to express them. Her younger self would never have agreed, but she is wiser now, and knows that, especially with a relationship such as this, being open is more critical than almost anything else.

When Chloe bites her lip again, this time with tears brimming at the corners of her striking eyes, Beca cannot help but reach up to cradle her cheek, brushing the pad of her thumb softly across smooth skin.

"He was wrong to do that to you. Even if he had been feeling something like that, which I doubt, talking to you about it would have been the way to solve it. Not going off with others and leaving you wondering if you had done something wrong. That shows a lack of respect, Chloe, and a lack of commitment." Chloe only nods, tears still clinging to her eyelashes. Seeing her obvious sadness, Beca can't help but add, in a murmur so low that it can barely be heard, yet that still echoes with truth, "I would never make you feel that way."

When Chloe's gaze snaps up to meet her own, Beca meaningfully holds her gaze for just long enough that the redhead knows she has heard correctly before pulling away. The conversation still isn't ready to be had, but she needed to express the sentiment.

It's true – she wouldn't ever make Chloe feel undervalued or unwanted. She's not naïve; she knows the potential consequences of making promises, especially ones that are made more volatile by being subject to emotion, but she's also confident in her ability both as a domme and as herself, as Beca, to honor the sort of statement she just made. She knows how her own mind works, she knows the amount of control she has over her own actions, and above all, no matter what her thoughts or emotions could potentially morph into, she knows that she is capable of holding herself to her own words. Out of the many things that Beca works to ensure that she is, honorable is one of the highest on the list.

She allows Chloe time to respond to her statement, but the redhead doesn't seem able, and after an adequate amount of silence, Beca strides out of the room and returns a moment later with two coats over her arm and a scarf, hat, and gloves clutched in her hand. She pauses before the redhead, waiting to hand over the items until she has received confirmation that this course of action is acceptable.

"Chloe, are you sure that you're all right with going out now? We could wait until tomorrow, or the next day, even, if you'd like; you just got here, after all, and you must still be a little shaken up after last night." Chloe is shaking her head before Beca can even finish.

"No, I'd like to go now," she says firmly, though her hands waver as she reaches for the offered coat.

"Chloe, honesty is important here. If you don't feel comfortable going now, you need to tell me so." Chloe manages to look up at her, though she fiddles with her zipper nervously, and her eyes, though worried, are determined.

"I'm not comfortable," she says honestly, and holds up a hand when Beca starts to respond. "But I need to go now. I'll lose my nerve if I have any more time to think about it, and I don't want him to keep me from doing anything I need to do. He shouldn't have that power over me; not anymore," she says resolutely. Her voice trembles ever so slightly, but Beca's lips break into a smile at her words. She's learning, at least a little, and it feels good to watch the vulnerable girl come into her own after being stuck in such a deeply unhealthy mindset for so long. It's taking far less time that she had imagined it would; she wonders if it has anything to do with what she can see to be the redhead's naturally accepting, adaptive personality.

It's a good thing no matter what it stems from. Beca isn't worried about Chloe being victim to the kind of reactive, temporary ability to adapt that she sees often in startled submissives. That sort of thing is a brief, often adrenaline induced reaction that serves as a mode of self-preservation. However, it's a reaction that is shaky and volatile, usually disappearing the moment the situation no longer calls for it, and she sees no sign of that in Chloe.

She would be lying if she said it didn't make her proud.

Without remarking on it, she permits Chloe to dress, stepping forward to adjust the hat so that it sits snugly over the tops of the redhead's ears. Chloe accepts the hand she extends without question when they reach the door, and it makes Beca grow warm inside to know that she is already so deeply trusted. In all honesty, Chloe is probably the most natural submissive she's ever seen; being long acquainted with the lifestyle, Beca knows that it has nothing to do with her former circumstances and everything to do with who Chloe is as a person.

Her heart flutters at the thought of the utter trust and control that could be placed in her hands. She might be attempting to be noble about it, and she has every intention of keeping that up, but Beca knows that the moment she's sure that Chloe's decision is sound, she will make no protest at being the one to see the beautiful vulnerability she knows it will expose.

It's what she became a domme for; to feed her desire, her need, to see people in such a vulnerable state, to be trusted to give them everything they need, and she can tell already that with Chloe, everything she has previously experienced along those lines will be completely blown away.

She leads Chloe down the drive to her car, allowing her time to look around and examine her surroundings in a way that she was unable to the night before. She's guessing that it feels a little different with clothes on, and her suspicion is proved right when Chloe lets out a small laugh.

"What is it?" she asks, happy to see the girl so lighthearted. So far, the redhead's liveliness has emerged in infrequent bits so that the most Beca has ever seen of it is sporadic glimpses.

"It's nice not to be flashing the neighbors," Chloe giggles lightly, and Beca swears she swoons a little at the sound.

"I'll bet," she replies with a small grin as she puts the car in gear. "Not that they were complaining, I'm sure." She doesn't miss the way that yet another blush creeps up Chloe's neck at her words. She permits her grin to spread, a little devilishly, and when Chloe cottons on she receives a light smack on the arm in response.

"Beca! I was in a compromising position," she reproaches. Beca's smile grows still wider, but this time it's a result of witnessing the clear lighthearted mood that Chloe is in. She can't help but remark on it as she pulls onto the street.

"You've got a pretty laugh, Red. You should grace the world with it more often," she remarks. Chloe stares.

"Did you just compliment me?" Beca casts a quick glance at her out of the corner of her eye. She pretends to shrug noncommittally as she pauses at an intersection.

"Maybe I did." She sees no harm in their flirtatious banter; if anything, it's a good catharsis for Chloe, who clearly hasn't engaged in this sort of interaction in quite some time. Besides, her companion has already established that she thinks they're building on a connection that goes beyond a mere mistress-slave relationship.

She can't help but agree, though she won't be admitting that until the moment is appropriate.

After the exchange of a few more playful remarks, Beca is forced to turn the conversation to a more serious note. Chloe immediately sobers when she's asked for directions to Mark's apartment. Beca doesn't like seeing the way that her face falls, but she bites her tongue against a reaction. They're both aware already that this trip probably won't turn out to be a pleasant one for Chloe – for either of them, really – but Beca figures that now is a better time than later to deal with it. She would say otherwise, but she knows enough of Chloe in their brief time together to deduce that it would probably be less comfortable for her to return to a place that may drudge up bad memories after being separated from it for a long time. She just hopes that if Chloe's mind is dragged off somewhere unpleasant today she will have the ability to pull her back.

It takes them a shorter amount of time than Beca expected to locate the apartment building; judging by the fact that Chloe had never approached it from their direction before, she had figured it would take a while, but when she remarks on it, Chloe only shrugs, saying something about always having had a good sense of direction.

Beca's glad – her own internal compass has always been out of whack. It's a small thing, but somehow it only enforces her belief that they would make a good team.

The building is a shabby one, one of the most unkept in a block of fairly middle-class old brownstones. It's the only modern building on the block, constructed of cement instead of bricks, but it's a little run-down, its seventies architecture odd and unbecoming among the older, more classically sophisticated buildings.

Chloe doesn't need a key, nor does she appear to need to buzz them in. She merely pushes the front door open into a musty-smelling stairwell whose roof clearly hasn't been rain-proofed in a while. Up until that point, Beca has watched her lead the way with a kind of trepedatious confidence that speaks of being on a highly disliked home turf – a little like the way Beca used to feel at elementary school soccer games; she knew her home field like the back of her hand, but at the same time was subject to a distinct nagging feeling that reminded her of the too many times she had had her face smashed into its fake grass.

It is in the entryway that Chloe pauses, turning to Beca with eyes brimming with anxiety and hesitation, and the brunette doesn't hesitate to take her hand.

"Listen to me," she says seriously, looking steadily at the worried ginger. "I can't promise that this won't be ugly, but if he's here, I will do my utmost to keep him away from you. Remember that he has no claim over you now, and you are in no way obligated to do anything he says. Understand?" Chloe releases a shuddering breath, nodding with her eyes firmly shut. "Chloe, look at me, please," Beca coaxes, lifting a hand to cup the girl's jawline. Blue eyes flash open, full of worry. She draws another breath.

"I – I just – I'm afraid," she admits softly. Beca squeezes her hands in reassurance. "I . . . I don't want to feel like I'm still under his control, but I'm afraid that he'll look at me and I'll just give in to him. I know it's different now, because now I know that I don't want to be affected by him, but it's been less than a day, Beca, and I'm not good with self-control. I might." Beca tries not to show the anger she feels building up at the notion of Chloe being reduced to such an uncomfortable state. By someone whose duty it had been to make her comfortable, no less. She covers her building fury by reaching up to brush her fingertips softly through auburn waves, gently thumbing the shell of Chloe's ear. She doesn't miss the way that Chloe's breath catches at the contact, and it does a little to soothe her anger.

Because it isn't frustration that she's feeling right now, despite the fact that that would be a more reasonable response. Beca is furious at the thought of anyone mistreating this beautiful, trusting angel of a human being in front of her, and in all frankness she wants nothing more than to kick the shit out of the bastard that did it, but she's holding back at the moment for Chloe's sake. Chloe doesn't need to see that, and Beca's determined that she won't unless it's absolutely necessary.

So, in actual fact, it's quite likely.

"Chloe," she starts, and she stammers a little over the word in her struggle not to replace it with something more intimate that may be appropriate later but would definitely be pushing boundaries if she said it now. She clears her throat and tries again. "Chloe, I know that this isn't going to be pleasant for you. I wish I could guarantee that you won't want to give in to him, but I can't do that." When Chloe's eyes fall at her words, she scratches gently at her ear to bring her gaze back. Blue eyes flicker back to hers, and she watches them intently as she speaks. "I can't guarantee that, but if it does happen, and even if it doesn't, I want you to remember something for me."

Chloe's breathy little hmm of acquiescence is nearly her undoing, but after blinking slowly to gather her thoughts, she is able to continue.

"Whatever happens up there, I want you to remember that at the end of all of it, you're coming home with me, not with him; what he says to you doesn't matter, because I'll be right there with you, and when it's over, I'm going to take you home." She isn't prepared for the kiss that Chloe surges forward to plant on her cheek when she's done speaking, leaving a sweet burning sensation in its wake. The redhead steps back almost immediately, but her eyes are flooded with emotion, deep and intense. It takes Beca a moment to recover, and by the time she has, Chloe is extending a hand to her, one foot on the stairs and determination set firmly in the lines around her lips and eyes.


Chloe doesn't have time to contemplate why she did it; she's too focused on devoting every particle of herself to the task ahead without letting her will be swayed. She only knows that the sensation of Beca's skin beneath her lips felt wonderful, and if the brunette's expression when she pulled away is anything to go by, the domme isn't complaining either.

She'll revisit it all later – maybe when they have their long-awaited conversation, which she is determined will happen soon – but for now, she has what might prove to be an extremely draining encounter ahead of her.

She doesn't leave herself time to further consider any of the possibilities ahead; when they reach the third floor, she finds the apartment door as swiftly as she can, and draws a deep, rattling breath to steel herself. She wants to get this over with, whatever the outcome may be. And honestly, she only wants to grab her clothing and a couple of picture frames from beside where she used to sleep. It's not like any of her actual prized possessions are here; she put them into storage before moving in, not knowing how long the relationship was going to last, and was never given the chance to retrieve them afterwards. This won't take long, and besides, Mark might not even be home.

It's clear, however, from the moment they step in, that he is. Beca doesn't know that based on the presence of the loafers that sit by the door, but she reads it from Chloe's face, and gives her a slight nod. He might be sleeping, and honestly, Chloe's praying for it. She has a feeling that Beca would love to encounter him, but she would just as soon grab a couple shirts and leave and never see him again. She has no desire to ever be in his presence; she hasn't since the moment Beca pulled off her blindfold, fewer than twenty-four hours ago though it may have been. Mark isn't a horrible man, but he's a shitty dom, and that translates into him not being as great a man as Chloe knows she deserves. She didn't used to be the questioning type, and self-doubt isn't her thing; she'd known all along in Mark's presence that she deserved something better, but as Beca is well aware, she's not exactly great with giving herself what she needs. She used to be, and she knows that with Beca she can gain that back, but at the moment, it's really the best excuse she has for what she's allowed herself to go through.

Keeping a careful ear out for any movement from the other end of the apartment, she leads Beca through the living room into the spare bedroom. In her two and a half years in this apartment, she'd never actually slept there, Mark preferring her to sleep on the floor by his own bedside or be chained to the lumpy couch in the playroom down the hall. However, when she'd moved in, she hadn't exactly been aware of that; all of her clothes – most of which admittedly hadn't been worn in the entire time she'd lived there – were kept in the dresser in the spare room.

It's there that she leads Beca, and the brunette keeps a steady watch on the door as Chloe riffles through the drawers, grabbing what she needs and throwing it into the small bag she'd left under the bed two years before when she unpacked. She snatches the three picture frames off the bedside table, hurriedly zipping the bag shut after tossing them in, and almost manages to signal to Beca that she's ready to go before a gruff voice echoes through the apartment.

"Chloe?" She sighs, closing her eyes, and sets the suitcase down at her feet. Damn it.

She doesn't respond, hoping that he'll think it was just the house settling and go back to sleep. When there's no further questioning for around a minute, she almost thinks that she's gotten away with it.

He calls out again just when she's about to reach down and carefully grasp the handle of the suitcase.

"Chloe! Where the fuck are you? Answer me when I speak to you!" She winces and opens her eyes, sending Beca a pleading glance. The eye contact isn't met; brunette is staring intensely down the hallway, her posture rigid. "Chloe!" When her name is bellowed for the third time, Chloe can't hold back another cringe. She really, really doesn't want to be here. Mark's never been straight up abusive before, but she doesn't know what he'll do once he realizes the full extent of what's going on. He's already monumentally pissed off due to the events of last night, that much she can tell, and she has absolutely no desire to be on the receiving end of the kind of anger that's going to be released once he finds out what actually happened.

"Beca – " she starts, but the brunette holds up a hand to silence her.

"Remember what will happen after," is all she says before raising her voice. "She's in here, asshole!" A thud sounds from somewhere across the apartment, and Chloe suspects that he's fallen out of bed. Her suspicion proves correct a moment later when loud, stomping footsteps echo down the hall, and then he's standing there in the doorway, jeans half-fastened and his chest bare, expression alive with shock and anger.

"What the fuck is this, Chloe?" he roars, glaring down at both of them in fury. "Where the fuck did you go last night, without my permission? Who is this bitch, and what is she doing in my apartment?" he prods a finger definitively at Beca, who smoothly steps back to avoid contact. "Did you let her in, you little slut? Is that where you were, off banging some bitch without my permission while I waited for you to come home?" Beca lets out a laugh at that, but it's cold and hardened by anger, not like the laughs that she has let out in Chloe's presence.

"That's pretty rich, big guy, coming from you," she hisses, and Chloe almost recoils at the tone even though it isn't directed at her. "Is that what you think she's been doing? Nice taste of your own medicine, isn't it, thinking that somebody you're supposed to have faith in has betrayed your trust?" Chloe has to hand it to her, she's not wasting any time getting to the point. She doesn't want to be here right now, but as long as she is, it's kind of nice to see Beca have the upper hand.

"Who the fuck are you?" Mark demands, staring at her like he can't quite believe this tiny woman is demeaning him in such a way. Chloe, despite her rising hatred for the man, can't help but understand his position to a small degree – Beca is tiny, after all. But what Chloe knows, and what Mark clearly doesn't, yet, is that size is no clear guarantee of power where Beca is concerned. "Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that in my own house? Fucking disrespectful bitch." Chloe's hands shake with the force of the anger that shoots through her at the rude remark. Who does he think he is, speaking to Beca like that?

"You're one to talk about disrespect, asshole," Beca replies coldly. "But before I even start to get into that, let's talk about your clear incompetence as a dom – which, since you asked me so nicely to tell you who I am, I am here to rectify." Mark's look of plain astonishment would be funny were the situation not so serious. It quickly dissolves into anger, anyway, so Chloe doesn't have much time to feel conflicted. In fact, her faint curiosity turns to fear as Mark turns on her instead, directing his furious glare so harshly that she feels it might flatten her to the floor. It's the same stare that's had her on her knees in submission for the past two years, but right now, she can't honestly say that it's doing anything other than making her afraid.

Maybe that's where all her submission stemmed from, she realizes briefly, but now really isn't the time to wonder.

"You ungrateful little slut," Mark hisses, taking several steps in from the doorway so that Chloe is practically pressed against the dresser to keep a little distance between them. The knob of a drawer digs hard into her already aching back, causing her to bite down her lip to keep from crying out in discomfort. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Beca's hands twitch at the sight of her grimace. "Not only did you dare to disobey me when I told you to stay where I left you, but you had to go fuck some slut instead of coming home with me? Were you under the impression that I'm not satisfying you enough? No one will satisfy you the way that I can, Chloe; certainly not this cheap whore!"

"Don't call her that!" Chloe spits, with a surprising amount of venom, at the same time that Beca growls out a threatening, "Don't speak to her that way!" She moves past Mark to Chloe's side, brushing her arm gently in comfort before stepping in front of her protectively. "How dare you insinuate that Chloe was ever anything but faithful to you? She gave up her entire lifestyle for you, and you gave her nothing but shit in return. If anyone can be called ungrateful, it's you," she snaps. Her navy eyes are flashing with rage. "Don't even get me started on your inability to satisfy, you arrogant dickhead; you gave her nothing worth what she deserved. She can do so much better than you, it's not even funny," she says scathingly. Mark's expression harbors a frightening amount of fury, but Beca's is pure hatred. Chloe can't decide which of them looks more dangerous.

(Ultimately, she knows she's going to go with Beca, but she knows that that's only working in her favor; Beca isn't going to hurt her. Mark could, and might at any moment.)

"Like who, for example?"

"Like me, and it's like whom, you egotistical dumbass," Beca shoots back, and Chloe would laugh if she weren't so concerned about how this encounter is going to play out. Mark lets out a derisive snort, and it's decidedly the most unattractive thing she's ever witnessed.

"You seriously think you can satisfy her better than I can? I'm a master, and that's what she needs," he chuckles, and it's not the kind of amusement that makes Chloe feel at all comfortable. Beca's fairly spitting when she responds.

"Actually, what she needs is someone who can give her love and affection balanced with consensual and respectful control." Beca sounds like a handbook on BDSM when she speaks, but her words are weighted and convincing, and they make Mark's face twist with something ugly that Chloe doesn't even want to know the name for. "She needs someone who will be trustworthy and devoted to her, and being a domme myself, I think I know a thing or two about that. And even if I didn't, I would still be better for her than you – if anyone can ever say they're good enough for her – because not only do I know how to satisfy a woman, I know how to treat someone with love and respect. And maybe you know how to make a woman feel good – though quite frankly I doubt it – but the last time I checked, leaving a submissive alone, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, not to mention naked, when it's dark and freezing cold outside, isn't exactly the definition of loving and respectful. And it's definitely not within the code of conduct of the community that you claim to be a part of, so unless you want to get your ass roasted by a group of people who have the ability to make you wish you'd never even heard of this lifestyle, I suggest you step down now." Beca's lips are curling by the time she's finished with her tirade, and from what Chloe can see over the brunette's shoulder – it would normally be a lot, but she's hunkering down, which makes their height difference a lot less prominent – Mark is similarly ramped up. Ramped up enough, in fact, to give a not-so-light shove to Beca's shoulders that sends her staggering past Chloe into the dresser.

Chloe sees red.

She's in Mark's face before it even registers in her brain what she's doing, yelling something along the lines of, "Don't you fucking touch her!" – she can't quite tell what she's actually saying; everything is a little muffled – and then suddenly, her ears are ringing, she's on the ground with a burning sensation in her cheek, and Beca's fist is plowing into the side of Mark's nose with a strength that none of them seem to have been aware that she has. Chloe doesn't really understand what's happening. Her brain is feeling a bit foggy right now; all she knows is that one moment Beca was owning this bastard, and now Mark's got blood flowing down his face, they're all a little banged up, and things have escalated to a physical level that might get them all into trouble if one more thing goes wrong.

She tries to tune in as Beca continue to blast Mark with rage, wanting to hear what the brunette is saying that is making the man watch in furious disbelief as he attempts to stem the flow of blood from where Beca clearly broke his nose.

" . . . call you in for assault and violation of community laws, so you'd better step back and let this woman walk away from here knowing that she's a human being and not something you think you can own, because you clearly don't know how to do it properly, and being a dom does not constitute depriving someone of their humanity or integrity. A submissive deserves to be cherished; giving up complete and utter control means trust and intimacy and vulnerability, and the fact that they place that kind of faith in another human being is beautiful. If you can't see how priceless that is, you don't deserve to have that faith put in your hands. I may not be a perfect domme, but at least I understand how special it is to be trusted with something so precious. I swear to every God I do and don't believe in, I will treasure anyone who decides I'm worthy of that kind of faith. And yes, I would be thrilled to be Chloe's mistress, but if I'm ever permitted the honor of that title, I will do so with her consent for the sake of giving her pleasure, the way a true domme should, and I'll do it with proper restraints instead of a fucking nylon rope."

Chloe's hearing is coming back from where, she's presuming, she got smacked in the ear when Mark was aiming for her face. She doesn't quite have it in her to do much more than struggle to stand up and lean heavily against the dresser while she waits for her balance to return, but she's alert enough to register that Beca basically just declared her devotion, and in more words than she ever expected to hear. That fact resonates deeply with her, and it's enough to give her the strength to push herself away from the support of the furniture and call out softly to the domme.

"Beca . . ." The response is instantaneous; Beca spins around on the spot, eyes raking up and down to swiftly survey any damage done, and Chloe registers the blossoming of warmth in her belly with the realization that Beca has just dropped an important argument, not to mention her pride, and potentially even her safety, to turn her back on Mark and tend to Chloe's needs. She watches as Beca lands him with one last kick to the groin – seriously, her legs are short enough to do that? – and crosses the room to the redhead. She lifts both of Chloe's hands to press a reverent kiss to the knuckles of each, and bends down. When she straightens back up, one hand is grasping Chloe's suitcase. The other tangles firmly with Chloe's, and then she's guiding her out of the room and through the apartment without so much as a backward glance at the man leaning heavily against the bedroom wall.

They descend the stairs in silence, Chloe unable to do much more than stare at Beca in utter wonderment, and storm out of the building across the street to the car. Beca pops the trunk and settles the suitcase inside, her movements now much calmer and more collected. She shuts the trunk and locks it, and then turns swiftly around. She's up in front of Chloe in an instant, taking her trembling hands in both of hers and gazing deeply into her eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asks tenderly, sweeping red hair back to brush gentle fingers across the fading red mark that indicates where she was slapped. Chloe nods wordlessly, unable to speak; vaguely, in the back of her mind, she registers that this is the first time in her life that she has been truly stunned. She knows that she's watching Beca with a look of pure awe and adoration, and rewind a few hours and she might try to reign herself in, but after what has just occurred, she can't bring herself to care. No one has ever, ever bared their soul for her, subjected themselves to abuse for her sake, in the way that Beca just did.

She tries to tell Beca as much, but her throat is dry, and she can't seem to find the proper words to express the wonder and gratitude that she's feeling in this moment.

"Beca – I – I can't begin to – you just – " she tries stammering, but then Beca's eyes flicker with something indescribable, and words fail her completely for a moment. She allows herself a brief period of silence to gather her thoughts before swallowing hard and trying again. She means to thank her, but instead what she comes up with is, "Did you mean that?" After the fact, she supposes it's a viable question. It's a pressing one, at least; there's absolutely no way that Beca can deny any of the things she said only minutes ago, and not knowing whether they were truly heartfelt or spoken only for the sake of the situation is practically killing Chloe.

"Which part of it?" She sounds like she's being careful, but she's gazing so intensely into Chloe's eyes that she thinks they should logically both be going blind, and her hand is still caressing the edge of Chloe's jaw, and honestly, this moment feels like the pull you start to notice happening beneath your boat right before it sails over a waterfall. Chloe almost chokes trying to get the words out from the increible heat that's building in her stomach and her chest, so low that she feels it might pull her underground and simultaneously so high that it feels it might come leaping out of her throat.

What escapes her is almost a whimper, but she manages to speak.

"About – about – all of it," she whispers, and her words seem to get stolen by the air the moment they escape. The unnamable element in Beca's gaze intensifies, and Chloe almost gasps at the force of what she sees there, building in enormous heat behind stormy eyes. It's hot and powerful and raging in intensity, and Chloe swears that the sight of it almost knocks her out.

"I meant every word I said, Chloe." Beca's voice isn't trembling, as Chloe knows her own is; it's steady and low, but it's heavy with promise and meaning, the sound of it practically weighing down on Chloe like a force that presses in on her spine and curves her body downwards until it's pliant and exposed at Beca's feet. Automatically, she glances down, almost as though to check that her feet are still planted firmly on the pavement.

When she lifts her gaze back up, the look in Beca's eyes nearly makes her knees give out beneath her. Her heartbeat is going wild, heat is rushing through her in places she didn't even know existed, and she feels like she's about to faint, but she holds on, because it's by far the most intense thing she's ever experience, but she'd much rather be seeing Beca's gorgeous eyes filled with whatever this emotion than the inside of her own eyelids.

"Beca," she manages to gasp out, not knowing what she means to say, not knowing why she needs to express it, but it's the only word in her mind, and then it's on her lips like her brain doesn't even have a say. Beca's gazing back at her with all of the intensity of whatever it is that's burning between them like a fire far out of control, and her lips don't seem to move as she responds in kind.

"Chloe." And then she can't think anymore, her brain is gone, her thoughts entirely extinguished, because Beca's lips are on hers and the only thing she can register is shock and pleasure and intense, overpowering relief.

It's not like anything she can describe, but the closest Chloe can come to understanding something akin to what's coursing through her and into Beca and around them in the air is what must happen when a star explodes – not a supernova, but more like a big bang, when there's nothing but a mathematical point and then suddenly there's everything, and it's burning and becoming dimensions and galaxies and energy and existence. It's more powerful than anything she ever knew could be, and it nearly brings her to her knees, but then, like she knew, like she sensed it happening before it could ever occur, Beca is holding her up.

Beca is everywhere, everything; one arm is wrapped firmly around Chloe's waist, tugging her in closer, bowing her into her body, and her other hand is tangled tightly in her hair, possessing, claiming, owning, and her lips are hot and insistent, but most of all it's passionate, and Chloe feels her body melting into Beca's, surrendering to the control and passion and devotion that radiate off of the woman who has wrapped her in her arms like she can never let her go.

With her mind failing and the feeling of everything else taking control, Chloe threads her fingers through silky hair and curves her body into the warmth and softness of the one that presses urgently against her own.

It could be a risky thing to surrender her entire being, but cradled in Beca's arms, kissing her like they're dying and they're each other's last breath of air, she understands that she never had a choice.


Guest 'G' - Yes, I'm sure it does. That story was my main inspiration for writing this. Please let me know if I'm coming too close to that, actually, because I don't want to make them too much alike.

xXFreakyUnicorn7689Xx - Your PMing is disabled, so I'm responding here: Thank you! Also, your use of OM-aca-G allowed me to finally figure out what in the hell it is Emily says when she gets accepted lol.

Guest on August 14th - Thanks! Glad you think so!

Guest on August 13th - Thank you! And no worries haha; they're on their way.

Froggie - I'm glad you think so. That's absolutely my intention. (see the above)

Guest on August 2nd - Yes, Chloe is a little codependent. That's part of what is going on here (and part of why Beca is being a little slow in this chapter). She's going to have to do a little maturing, though she does some of it pretty quickly here, and while it may seem like being a sub might exacerbate that codependency, it can also help if Beca uses it to teach her how to be her own person again. It won't last long.

Guest #2 on August 2nd - Thank you! I hope you're not disappointed. ;)