A/N: Hi again. Sorry that my updates take so long, I'm trying at life and it's hard. But I love this fic and I'm going to finish it if it kills me. Not quite there yet. I hope you like it. - Is it too late to thank Reed for their amazing review explaining what I couldn't about Chloe? No, good: thank you so much, I loved your review.

The beat was pulsing and people were dancing. But DJ Khaled and his small entourage parted the dancers like the red sea, Khaled being Moses. Beca rolled her eyes at her thought, such nonsense. But still, the dancers moved and they looked, some stared until the entourage arrived where they had supposed to arrive: before their host.

"Tommy," Khaled said in his breathy voice.

"Khaled, how are you?" Tommy had an accent, Beca surmised he was German.

The men shook hands in some masculine ritual Beca didn't follow and then they hugged. And Beca didn't follow the conversation after that, it seemed too personal and the music was too loud. She looked around the place. This Tommy-guy seemed to have done some things right, his crib was huge.

Somebody pulled her from her thoughts by pushing her forward. Her first instinct was to push back, but it had been Theo and he nodded his head toward Khaled and his friend. They were looking at her, as was everybody else close by.

Beca took a couple of uncertain steps forward.

"Beca, meet my friend Thomas Walther. He's a music producer." Of course, he was. Who else could own a place like this?

"It's nice to meet you," Beca said, pushing her hand out to shake his, but he simply used her hand to pull her close and kiss her on both cheeks. "Ah, okay. Erm, happy birthday."

"Thank you, Beca. That's a beautiful name, by the way."

"Thank you. My mom gave it to me," she said, still a little taken back by his friendliness. Maybe this was something she would have to get used to: men she hardly knew hugging and kissing her? Urgh, she could hardly stand it when people she knew did that.

A flash of someone ginger was about to steal herself into her thoughts but then Theo took her arm and steered her away from Khaled and his friend to meet... a gazillion people, all speaking with thick German accents, most of them male and of a certain age. Many of them quite handsy.

At first, Beca tried to remember names and faces, but after about an hour of this, the faces blurred, names became meaningless and Theo's translations of whatever was said in German were non-sensical too. She needed a break.

"I have to go to the little girl's room." Beca had leaned over to Theo who was talking in German with someone important. Or maybe just important looking, Beca couldn't tell the difference. Everybody seemed to want a piece of her, or maybe it was just Khaled they wanted a piece of but had to consent with her.

Theo turned to her and nodded. He waved vaguely into a direction and Beca followed that vagueness to the next bar - there were several around the place. And a good thing it was. "Something strong, but mix it with soda, please," she ordered. The barkeep grinned and nodded. He started working his shakers while Beca started digging into a bowl of crackers when someone behind her said:

"Feisty mouse, I thought that was you."

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. The sultry tones, the accent. It had to be her, but... could it be? Beca turned and the question answered itself. It could and it was. Germany was really a small place.

"Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?" Beca quipped. She'd learned this one German sentence back when they first met but somehow never got to use it, probably because she'd been too tongue-tied around the tall, stunning blonde. She was still tall, she was still stunning, but she seemed to have lost her thrall over Beca.

Kommissar laughed at what Emily had taught her meant 'Everything all right, Mr. Detective?' It didn't make a lot of sense, it was a line from a song by a famous Austrian singer named Falco.

"My name is Inka, by the way. I'm not a part of Das Sound Machine anymore."

"Oh, I didn't know," Beca said.

Kommi-Inka ordered herself a drink as the barkeep placed Beca's in front of her.

"How would you know? I doubt you really thought about us after winning the World's back then, did you?"

"Not really, no. Did you think about us?"

Inka laughed. "A little. Mainly, I blamed you for losing me my very lucrative, very prestigious job. They fired me after I failed to deliver the World's."

"Really? I mean... who're they, exactly?" Beca took a sip of her drink. It was still strong, the soda didn't do anything to soften the burn.

"The association that hired us, it's not important. They made Pieter captain and I got the boot."

"And Pieter brought DSM back on track?"

"Are you kidding me?" Inka smiled wickedly and Beca found herself laughing. "More groups have discovered their diversity since you won the world's and there's one thing DSM doesn't do - diversity. We are... they are conformity. The whole competition looks more like the Eurovision Song Contest every year."

Beca nodded. She knew of that Song Contest thingy. Chloe was obsessed with it once every year and made her watch. It was the most colorful, wild, and quite honestly gay singing contest she's ever seen parts of.

"I hear you're DJ Khaled's latest protégè. How does that feel?"

"So far it's... confusing," Beca said and took another sip from her drink, a deep one.

"It's a recent development?"

"As recent as three days ago."

Inka's eyes widened at this. "And here you are, at some German producers party without your Bellas."

Beca steeled herself for a put-down, but Inka surprised her. "Must be lonely."

"It's..." But she couldn't find words because 'lonely' felt already too accurate. How did Inka know? And why was she suddenly so nice? Beca could have done without the added confusion.

"It's okay, I've been there," Inka said laying a hand on Beca's arm. It stayed there for too long and Beca felt her brain fog slightly. It might have been the drink, but she had a feeling that Inka was flirting with her.

"Erm, I... it's nothing really." Beca talked into her drink and couldn't believe that this was happening again. Sure, Inka was gorgeous, but hadn't she just decided that she was Chloe-sexual? Who was Inka to keep confusing her so?

"What's wrong Feisty Mouse?"

"Please, don't call me that. My name is Beca and I... I should leave." She turned and almost ran into some guy. She apologized as her drink spilled a little, but then she slalomed through the other guests and away from Inka - or temptation.

Chloe knocked but there was no answer. She'd thought to just use her key, but then she'd seen the light coming from insight and remembered that she didn't actually live here. And indeed, the taxi she'd taken after landing in New York had taken her to her own apartment first. But that morning, she'd noticed that many of the things she needed for work the next day were still at Beca's place - Beca and Amy's place. And that's why she'd come over.

She knocked again. Still no answer. She took her key from her pocket, the one Beca had made for her and put on a Barden lanyard. The tiny weirdo... she missed her.

Chloe pushed her shoulders back and put the key into the lock. She opened and...

"Thief, murderer, I'll kill you, I'll... oh, hey Chloe." Amy had jumped off the bed upon her opening the door. It seemed like Chloe had startled her.

"Sorry, Amy, but I knocked and you didn't answer."

"I was..." Amy took a few deep breaths. "I was listening to some music. Didn't hear you."

"Are those Beca's headphones?"

"No."

Chloe looked at her raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe, but she said I could use them."

"She told me to make sure you didn't steal them," Chloe said but she smiled. It wasn't like Beca actually expected her to take them from Amy, Chloe was sure.

"Stealing? I never steal, I bor... you guys are talking again?"

"We never stopped, Amy," Chloe said, making light of what had happened. Who was she kidding, really? All their friends had been there. Still, she was trying to keep a shred of dignity.

"Well, you weren't really warm when we left Spain. And by warm I don't mean hot and heavy, just friendly, though I'd have been okay with any amount of hotness. Who doesn't like lesbians making out?"

Classical Amy going from simple hugging to making out in zero seconds.

"Well, I'm not a lesbian, Amy. I can't really say for Beca, but I'm bi. And I'm with Chicago, as you know."

"Right, 'cause all good things have to end with some bland white dude getting the girl. I've seen that movie, Chlo, and it sucks and not in a good way."

Chloe took a deep breath. She felt irritation stir, but would calmly explain it to Amy if she had to, but Amy already shook her head.

"I know it's your decision, Chloe, but as Sam Jackson said: it's a dumb-ass decision and I don't wanna talk about it, really. Anyway, I thought you were going to live in your own apartment for a change." There was a definite pout in Amy's words and on her face as Chloe now saw.

"I have some things here I need for work tomorrow."

"Well, take them and leave, please. I need to work on my music for my new "All the Fat Amys-Show" so..."

It hurt a little, but Chloe knew Amy well and she only lashed out when she herself was hurting. She now sat on her bed, reminding Chloe of her pouting five-year-old cousin.

"I didn't mean to... I mean... I like being here, you know that, Amy. It's just... I can't live here among Beca's things. It's just not right."

"Because you love her," Amy said.

"Because I'm with Chicago, not Beca."

"You weren't with Beca before we went to Europe and you still practically lived here."

"Yes, but now... it's different now."

Amy looked up at her. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. Will you give me a little time to figure everything out?"

Amy weighed her head from side to side. "Hm, all right. Do you need help to figure it out? I'm good at this, you know?"

Chloe had to smile. "Well, I think what would help a lot right now is if we could go for some ice cream and a walk?"

"How about ice cream and one of those fancy carriage rides. I'm in the money, you know. No need to walk anywhere ever again." Amy was grinning.

"All right, let's take a ride."

"Yay, let me just... haven't brushed my teeth yet or showered or taken a dump..." Amy pulled some clothes from the floor, smelled them and then went into the bathroom leaving the door wide open.