I got a little too excited about writing this so I guess this fanfic will go longer than I planned. I know I promised a game-changer around this chapter, but it got pushed to Chapter 5 because I just can't leave out this fluff and angst bit. I just feel it's important, you know? This gives people more insight on how Chaubrey slowly realizes they have a lot of chemistry with each other and whatnot. Chloe is not trying to cheat on Beca but it's just that ever since she has a special bond with Aubrey, and I want this to be clear on my readers. I'm just OC that way.

Anyway, please, please hang on. I swear Chapter 5 will have smashing developments. Try to have fun and post suggestions/reviews if you can :)

Jesse couldn't have picked a better timing.

It's summer, with no school to use as a distraction. The first week you end up cleaning the entire apartment, even Chloe's room, because yours has always been spotless and there's nothing else to work on. It doesn't help that Beca and Chloe are often hovering around you. It's sweet and annoying at the same time, particularly for Chloe, who has taken to hounding you even if you're just innocently watching TV on the couch.

"Bree?"

Your feet are propped up on Chloe's lap and she's drawing haphazard circles on your knee. It's ticklish yet comforting, and you don't stop her because the action is familiar – she's been doing this ever since you shared a dorm back in freshman year. "What?"

"It's been two weeks since...you know. Don't you want to talk about it?"

"It's not Voldemort. You can call it by its name – the breakup." You heave out a sigh and look at Chloe, who has taken to rubbing the length of your legs with her palm, not looking at you. "I said everything that night. There's nothing to talk about."

"You haven't told me why you two broke up," she replies, in an almost accusatory tone.

You look around for Beca – she's mixing in Chloe's room – and you're suddenly grateful because surprise, she hasn't told Chloe the reason. "It just doesn't feel right."

"Is this about Major James Alastair Posen's standards again? The whole thing about Jesse not being in the army or something?" Chloe's all too familiar with your dating choices from college; she's probably recalling the five or so guys you dumped simply because 'my father will not approve of them anyway'. Not to mention that they didn't stir anything in you – because for a long time, nobody really has. Until the dense and extremely maddening Beca Mitchell came along.

"That's it?" Chloe's suddenly pushing off your feet with a disgusted look on her face, and you realize you haven't answered her at all.

"No!" You thrust your feet back on her lap, hoping she would resume touching you. It's soothing and comforting and you don't want to read too much into the action, but Chloe's hand is just warm and it's calming you down. Chloe seems to get the cue and restarts stroking your legs, albeit hesitantly. "Jesse's great, maybe the best guy I'll ever date. But I don't want him."

It's a slight revelation, how Chloe is not even batting an eyelash at all over this. "For a moment I thought it's your dad. Honestly, he's got his ideal guy worked out even better than most teenage girls. Tall, dark, handsome, military, capable, and big in dick..." she smirks and you give her a small kick, trying not to break out into a grin. "What? Every time you go out on a date before it's all I hear from you."

"You're not surprised about Jesse?" You still haven't completely gotten over at her lackluster reaction.

"No. He's too...tame. You want someone edgier." Chloe's hand slows down and maybe you're imagining it, but her fingers are gradually ghosting over your skin. It's the first time Chloe touched you this way and you close your eyes at the sensation. "Like me. Or Beca."

"W-what?" You inhale deeply, aware that goosebumps are running all over your legs. It's because you're finally sure what Chloe is doing is deliberate; every stroke is meant to be tantalizingly light and it's working you up in ways you can't even understand.

And then her last statement finally sinks in and there's an abrupt change in energy in the air and you don't know how Chloe can be so damn oblivious to it – or maybe she isn't, because she just absently continues caressing a little bit higher up your thigh, enjoying her effect on your system. She looks up to meet your gaze and you can swear there's an unknown, dangerous glint in her eye that you've only seen in brief flashes before.

Chloe hums, almost growls, in this insanely low voice that she probably acquired after her nodes operation and you can't help but gulp audibly. "Not so smart now, Posen, huh?"

"Isn't it a little, uh, too early to invite me to a ménage a trois?" The best thing to do, really, is just to pull your legs away. One tug and it's over. But Chloe's touch is short-circuiting your brain and – just like Beca – it's infuriating how Chloe seems not to notice at all, even if your body is making all these exasperatingly huge signals your mind can't control.

Chloe shakes her head minutely; she lifts her hand from your legs and you almost beg her to put it back. But she looks at you again and the glint in her eye is replaced by something that vaguely resembles nervousness. And Chloe Beale is never nervous. "Oh, god. I didn't mean to...is that how it sounded like? I'm – Bree, I'm sorry. You're welcome to...Ugh, I am so stupid!" She gestures down to your feet, agitated. "I went too far. I'm sorry."

You close your eyes and finally do what you should have done earlier – drag your legs away from Chloe's lap with an almost superhuman effort, ignoring the throbbing somewhere down there. Chloe's looking positively flustered now, her brilliant blue eyes wide with alarm.

"It's okay," you say mechanically, trying not to give in to your manic urge of grabbing Chloe right then and there. You almost want to hug her, wipe the apprehension off her face because you felt something in her hands too, but you're too scared you'd do more than hugging. You really might end up seizing her instead and slamming her down to the couch and you can just imagine it – biting her ear and kissing her neck and making her pay for activating this foreign hunger and –shit, that's lesbian activity. The kind that I usually dream of, starring Beca.

And so you mumble some excuse that sounds incoherent even to yourself, take one last look at Chloe's apologetic face, and do your best to get out of there.

"Hello?"

"Stacie!" You never really thought you and the busty brunette were particularly close, but locked up in the safety of your room, away from Chloe's intoxicating presence, Stacie's voice was the most welcome thing right now.

"Hey Aubrey. Heard about you and Jesse. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You give out a huge sigh – it seems you've been doing nothing but sighing lately – and say the words you thought you'd never utter in your life. "About that. I need a distraction."

"Straight to the point, as usual." Then Stacie fully grasps the meaning of your words – you could almost hear her mind working – and she adds, "Wait, what?!"

"You heard me," you deadpan. "Never thought I'd see the day, but I need a wingman or whatever it is right now."

There's a long silence. Then, "It's not like I don't want to help you, Aubrey, but this doesn't sound like you at all."

"I'm trying out something new."

"Right." Some crackling, and you assume Stacie's sighing as well. "Oh well. I can take you to this party we're required to attend tonight. Meet me at our sorority house at eight if you're so sure."

"I'll be there." You'd actually be anywhere just to have someone take care of your stupid urges right now. Stacie was probably having a field day at how you finally decided to your own 'Hunter' free. "Thanks for helping me out. And, Stacie?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Beca and Chloe."

Aubrey Posen's Guide to Moving On:

1. Get drunk.

2. Take home some guy and let him fuck the lesbian out of you.

3. Rinse and repeat.

So this is your life now, one week and five different guys later:

Stacie is your new best friend. She doesn't pry and has recently learned not to flinch with worry when you appear at her sorority house every evening. You're both well aware that what you're doing is not in the Aubrey Posen rulebook, so she eases you into her kind of scene with baby steps. She introduces you to frat boys she knows personally – "So we know who we'll castrate if they try and fuck you up," she assures confidently – and gives you enough space to get to know your guy while making sure you're not getting too wasted to be taken advantage of.

Then you go back to your room with your flavor of the night, because even if you've stooped this low you're still Aubrey Posen and there's no way you're going to do the walk of shame from some guy's dorm. You barely care when you step in the apartment and Beca throws you dirty looks from her laptop, or when Chloe gasps from the couch at whoever male visitor you drag in. You're supposedly heartbroken and you're perfectly entitled to do what you have to just to get by.

Mornings are the worst because your stupid brain wiring still wakes you up at six. And one look at the random guy you shagged lying on your covers is enough to make you run to the bathroom and puke.

You're pretty confident you're not knocked up. It's just your body, trained to revolt against your sleeping around.

By the third day of this you've run out of fucks to give. You nudge your bedmate awake, throw him his pants and shirt, and whisk him out of the apartment without so much as a glance. You spend the rest of the day going about your life normally (well, not so normal, judging from the way Beca and Chloe keeps glancing at you apprehensively) until it's evening once again and you prepare to go to Stacie's.

The eighth day of your move-on propaganda, you're puking in the bathroom again when a hand rests on the small of your back. You jump a bit, but then recognize Beca on the reflection in the mirror above the sink. She gingerly rubs your back up and down, only stopping when you've rinsed out your mouth and turned around to reach for the towel behind her.

She doesn't move from where she's standing, and you're suddenly aware of how close she is, so close you could smell her perfume that you couldn't really identify but still makes you feel heady anyway. And then you remember that she has a girlfriend, who happens to be your best friend, sleeping in the next room.

"Making your girl breakfast again, Mitchell?" you say while drying your face, in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

Beca shakes her head. "I was asleep and then I heard something out here, so I checked. You kind of left the door open, so I just, you know, walked in."

You hang the towel on the rack and this time she steps back, but only to assess your condition better. "Dude," she exhales. "You look like hell. Can I get you anything?"

You blink because Beca not being sarcastic still takes you by surprise. Granted, she's been totally sweet the night you and Jesse broke up, but this considerate, caring person is someone you still have to get used to. She doesn't wait for your answer; instead she just puts a hand on your back again and steers you towards the couch. She disappears and comes back after some while with a steaming mug, only to find you pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Hey," she says, setting the mug down on the coffee table. "I got you chamomile tea. It's supposed to make you relax or something."

You keep your eyes closed and fall back on the couch. "Thanks. Although I can't really relax until I kick out that guy on my bed."

Beca grins. "That's easily fixed." She walks off to your room and very soon after, the guy in your bed is running out to the hallway in a great hurry, still buttoning his jeans. Beca comes out and smirks at the door slamming shut.

"What did you do?" You're half-worried that Beca might get in trouble, but half-impressed that she managed to do in three minutes what you do in around twenty.

"Told him he just fucked my girlfriend." Your heart audibly beats faster and you hurriedly take a sip of the tea, even while knowing it wouldn't calm you at all. Beca seemed blissfully ignorant of the effect of her words, rubbing her hands together with a self-satisfied grin. "I can make you pancakes too, if you want."

You hold in a smile. "Gee, where's the badass I used to know?"

"My reputation's safe and sound. No one's gonna believe I offered you anything," Beca snarks. "Hey! It's too early for your bitch autopilot to take over!"

You can't help but laugh and fling one of the throw pillows at her. "Go to sleep. You're missing out on Chloe's cuddling."

For a few moments she looks right at you, an unreadable expression on her face. Then she says, "You too," smirks, and walks away.

The ninth morning, you emerge from the bathroom after vomiting bitter bile. Everything you've brought up the last few days smells of tequila or vodka and you're wondering how you could make sure you're not at the risk of getting alcohol poisoning. Maybe Chloe would know. You swing the door open and jump at the sight of the aforementioned redhead standing right outside.

"What the hell, Chloe Marie Beale?! Why are you standing there like some murderer?!"

But Chloe just looks at you and pulls you wordlessly to the couch. You kind of have an idea where this is going based on the expression in her face. Sure enough, Beca's standing in the living room, looking expectantly at you and then at an envelope in her hand. Chloe gently nudges you to the couch and clears her throat.

"You guys forgot the Intervention banner," you observe mildly, watching Chloe fidget with a similar-looking envelope she took from her shorts pocket. Beca raises her eyebrows, obviously having no idea what you were referring to. "Seriously, Beca? Ugh, this isn't at all original. It's from How I Met Your Mother."

"Glad to see you're sober enough to remember the show," Chloe tries to joke, her blue eyes remaining solemn. "So...um...we're worried about you, Bree."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm fine."

"No," Beca says, her expression mirroring Chloe's. "You're sleeping around."

"I really do appreciate the concern, but may I point out that this is 2013 and that's normal." The words come out of you as an involuntary snap. The couple just glances at each other and you sigh, knowing nothing you say would stop them anyway. "Just read the damn letters."

Chloe neatly opens her envelope, unfolds the paper inside, and begins.

"Bree, you're doing the Fuckathon. The exact same thing I did pre-Beca, when I had those stupid flings out of boredom. Back then you kindly asked me to stop because, in your own words, 'it's self-destructive and never ends well.' Self-destruction isn't your thing, Bree. We know you're trying to cope but this is just going against those values you've always stood for. We don't want to see you regretting a lot of things. You can talk to us. You're our rock, but that doesn't mean you don't need help and hugs once in a while. Love, Chloe."

You keep your face neutral, although Chloe's words had deeply touched you. "Beca?"

Beca rips apart her envelope – almost tearing the paper inside in the process – and reads, her voice quavering slightly from the early hours of the morning.

"Uh, Chloe told me to write you a letter expressing my feelings or stuff like that. I think it's cheesy, but she's withdrawing some privileges if I don't do this, so..." Beca coughs a bit at Chloe's slight smirk and continues. "Aubrey, your behavior is scarier than usual. I'll trade a year of bickering with you than a week of you, uh, fornicating with men you have just met – "

"Fornicating with..." You shake your head with a laugh. "How archaic. It's called a one-night stand, Beca."

Chloe chuckles halfheartedly. "Let her finish." She nods at Beca, who reads on.

"Anyway, we kind of miss the Aubrey who raises hell over a tiny speck of dust and who spends Friday evenings watching telly on the couch like a grandma. So please get your head out of your ass, because we're not quite ready to be godmothers yet." Chloe glares at Beca with a horrified expression, but you just grimace at Beca's audacity and let her drone on. "Besides, from the last time I've been to your room, it sure stinks like a brothel. You're already a bitch, and we don't want to see you becoming a whore too. We out, the awesome Beca Mitchell."

"You actually signed your name like that?" You walk over and tug the letter out of Beca's hands, chuckling upon seeing the words on paper. Chloe looked mortified. "Sorry Chlo, but I like the bad cop act better."

Chloe elbows Beca hard in the ribs. "Babe, that was really harsh!"

"Aubrey seems to like it." Beca raises her hands in self-defense.

A loud thud from your bedroom makes the three of you look around. You vaguely remember having someone under your covers before you came running to the bathroom – oh, shit – and sure enough, the door to your bedroom opens.

None of you were expecting the person who came out, though.

"Sorry for interrupting," says the girl, running a hand through her hair. "Thanks for last night, Aubrey."

You only nod dumbly, your eyes taking in her appearance: disheveled brown hair, heavy eyeliner on blue eyes, several ear and nose monstrosities, flannel shirt. You're pretty sure it wasn't a coincidence that this girl is a total cosplay of Beca. The girl stares around the three of you, decided the awkward atmosphere was too much, and let herself out with a motion to Aubrey to call her.

"Dude, that was a dyke!" Beca gasps as soon as Clone Beca was out the door.

You roll your eyes, unsure how or even why you should explain last night's menu, and say instead in the most acid voice possible, "Congratulations, you now know the different types of homosexuals."

Chloe's spluttering. "Please tell me that girl was just a lab partner you had to tutor overnight. Oh my god, it's fucking summer break. OH MY GOD YOU SLEPT WITH HER!"

You groan internally at this, but try to keep your jaw set. "Fine, aca-bitches, after your stupid little intervention I realized the error of my ways and I decided I will not sleep around as often as I should – I mean, as often as I did. Thank you." You move to walk briskly to your room, but Chloe grabs your arm, preventing your escape.

"What the hell, Bree? How come I didn't get the memo on Aubrey Posen's coming out?" Her voice betrayed disappointment and confusion and you wince at her words.

"It was a strictly-sorority party and there was a rather zero number of guys," you answer in the calmest, straightest voice you could muster. There's no need to mention you specifically asked Stacie to introduce you to the goth girl because she has the same poor clothing choices as Beca.

"Oh, good save, Posen," Beca says sarcastically, crossing her arms.

"I should've known Stacie was behind this," Chloe growls. "Please tell me that you were sober, you knew what you were doing, and you have no regrets. Oh my god –"

"Don't be overdramatic," you cut in. "I wasn't sober, but I certainly knew what I was doing. Listen, aca-girls. I understand your concern. Now that I know it bothers you, I will be more considerate and try not to disturb you with my...one night stands. I might even try my best to stop. But I can't assure you it's going to happen immediately, because from what you have been forgetting, I was recently dumped and that's particularly excruciating for a Posen. I need time to get back on my feet. So thanks for caring, and let it be known that I have noted your sentiments."

Beca and Chloe looks at each other, and sighed almost in unison that you're almost sure they timed it. There is a long silence. Then Chloe steps closer and hugs you, and you're surprised at how fast you melt into her arms. You've actually missed her.

"Of course," Chloe breathes in your neck. "Just don't shut us out, Bree."

You nod quietly, feeling a bit guilty at how fast Chloe reined in the questions she's dying to ask and tried to respect your wish instead. You make a mental note to plan how to come clean to Chloe soon, because it continually amazes you how easily Chloe gives you the space and understanding you need. Chloe lifts her head to look at Beca, who is still slightly incredulous.

"Come here for the group hug, Mitchell," Chloe calls out. "Don't make Aubrey get you."

Reluctantly Beca walks toward you and Chloe throws an arm around her, forcing her between the two of you.