So, Beca doesn't actually have all that much experience with kissing. Variety-wise. She's obviously no late-nineties Drew Barrymore; she's engaged in the act of, has in fact made out with boys, and there had even been a supremely embarrassing parking incident when she was sixteen that she refuses to talk about. Has emphatically erased the incident from the sprawling green banks of memory. In high school, her friends – because yes, she did have them – had all jumped onto the boy bandwagon simultaneously and Beca had been left trailing behind, waiting for the obsession to hit. It never did. Not with boys, anyway. Music had been her first love, but that was a different story.

So rather than having a string of boyfriends she didn't want, she spent a large portion of her high school years getting to listen to her friends blather on and on about their own and what he was or wasn't doing right that week. She got to hear all about what making out was like and how the first session of heavy petting had gone down, and whatever. Beca would listen and nod in all the right places and, well, not really care all that much. It wasn't something she'd yearned for in the way her friends had.

All of that did eventually happen for her of course. A little necking here, a little groping there, an uneventful first time with a boy whom she had actually liked, maybe loved, but looking back, none of it had been anything to write home about. Gush about, like her friends had. And Beca's a private person when it comes to those things, intimate things, but she doesn't think that had anything to do with it.

Jesse had been different. She'd loved him, still does, and he had been the first boy she'd ever actually wanted to talk about. To be like "hey, I have this super cute, awesome boyfriend who's a total nerd and sings to me from outside of the bathroom door while I'm trying to shower". Kissing him had been fun and uncomplicated. He'd made her feel something other than boredom and she wasn't with him because she thought she should be. She'd wanted him, wanted to be with him, intimately too. Which was new, because she's always been a little squicked out by sex in general. It's messy and sometimes confusing and sure it feels good, but is all the fumbling really worth it? Jesse had been sweet and gentle, and being with him and been a thousand times better than her one and only other experience. But, and she feels bad whenever she thinks about it, he had always seemed more into it than she was. More present. More invested.

She'd been in love with him, she had, there's no doubting that. But she's sure that he'd felt more for her than she had for him. Which was part of the reason their romantic relationship hadn't survived long-term, she knows, but it had been nice while it lasted.

So really, this is only the second person with whom Beca has actually enjoyed being physical, in any capacity.

And that person is Chloe.

And it's not that it's weird, but it's kind of weird. Largely because she could never have expected it, yet here she is, still feeling the aftershocks.

Chloe's kiss had rattled around her like shutters during a storm, swinging and banging, opening and closing different parts of her without giving Beca time to catch her breath. Waterlogged her brain and muffled her senses until all she could taste and touch and hear, was Chloe. She had been surrounded by her in that kiss, saturated with her to the point of being overwhelmed. Yet, she'd still wanted more. Had reached out for it, consciously. She remembers doing it, impatiently pulling at the redhead's hips because she was taking too long to come back to her. To come back to kissing Beca. So yes, it's kind of weird for her.

But she had sort of expected it to feel more weird. Less comfortable. Granted she does feel a few thousand feet out of her element, but not in the way she'd anticipated. Chloe's always been able to sneak by Beca's defences - "Our very own ginger ninja," as Amy had once put it, though that had been in reference to Chloe's graceful and entirely undetected break in to the Trebles house, which had been required for the purposes of what had been dubbed 'The Prank War' – with far less effort than anyone else. Even Jesse. She wonders how much of an impact the shower incident had made on that. If seeing Chloe buck naked and like, a foot from her face, had ripped down all of Beca's walls before she'd had time to get them fully raised. And if, afterwards, she just hadn't bothered putting them back up.

Because she doesn't even know herself, what it is that makes Chloe different or why. She just is.

Beca's never really thought to think about it too deeply before, not that she's thinking about it now either. She's too busy reeling.

Chloe has this affect on her, relatively new and super confusing if she accidentally starts considering what it is. It feels like sticky summer heat and lazy skydiving, like the ground is jogging up to meet her as every inch of her skin prickles. And it's there whenever Chloe steps into her personal space, like she had however many minutes ago – because no, Beca hadn't been keeping track – and it lingers like humidity after a rainstorm once she's gone.

Is still with her now, even though the kiss is over.

She'd felt her stomach drop through the floor when Chloe had confessed to wanting to kiss her again, then slingshot up into her throat when the redhead had stepped into her bubble. Chloe's hands were so soft and gentle and they brought out goosebumps along Beca's skin wherever they touched. The kiss itself had been blistering. Instantly, scorching like the midday sun and when Chloe had pulled away the first time Beca had felt like she was slowly being waterboarded. Suffocated. Like she'd needed Chloe, needed that kiss, to breath easily.

It's a terribly confusing, terrifying thought. So she puts it away for later.

She doesn't know when her hands made it to Chloe's hips, but she remembers the second they slipped beneath her shirt. Pressed against warm skin for the first time and all but burned her palms. She remembers the feeling of Chloe's teeth sinking into her skin and the way her body had pushed and pressed, tried to get closer. She remembers the sound Chloe had pulled from her, how good it had felt.

She also remembers, quite acutely, not thinking to pull away even once. To not touch Chloe like that.

And it had been Chloe to pull away first, the aftermath of which she's still she's still dazedly swimming through.

"That's still not 'properly'?" Her voice sounds strange to her ears and she clears her throat, embarrassed by the odd edge of roughness clinging to it. "What kind of kissing school did you graduate from?" And she's still anxious beneath her humour. Even though Chloe has assured her otherwise, Beca's still not sure she hadn't done something wrong back there. Maybe Chloe hadn't liked that thing she did with her tongue or maybe wasn't ready for physical contact yet and of course, of course Beca could manage to mess this up too. She tugs a little too angrily at her t-shirt to smooth out the creases Chloe has made in the material, looking away from her.

"I didn't graduate." Chloe says and it's so matter-of-fact that it makes Beca look back up. The redhead wiggles her eyebrows. "I was kicked out for being too good."

"Oh, wow." Beca breathes with a wild roll of her eyes that starts Chloe laughing.

"Admit it." She sing-songs, taking a step back towards Beca. Dark eyes flicker down to catch Chloe toying with her fingers, wringing her hands out in front of her body. It makes her wonder what's going on inside her head. "I'm good." She meets Chloe's gaze again and holds it for a moment before lifting her shoulders in an exaggeratedly nonchalant shrug.

"You're okay, I guess." And it's like that thing kids do with mentos and a bottle of Coke; Chloe just kind of blows up right in front of her.

"Okay?!" It's almost a full on scream and it's definitely loud enough for the rest of the house to hear. "Okay?!" Beca's eyes snap wide and she tries so desperately to clamp down on the urge to smile because that's really only going to make this worse. Of course, she fails miserably and her lips start rising at the corners as she continues trying to twist them to the side. Chloe is all fiery eyes and outrage and she thrusts a finger into Beca's chest hard enough to actually push Beca back a bit. "Beca Mitchell," the eyebrows belonging to the woman in question hike high enough that she can't be sure they don't fall right off her face, "you can call my outfit ugly, you can even tell me I'm flat, but don't you ever," she presses her finger harder into Beca's chest and the captain winces a little, "ever," and okay, so maybe she's a tiny bit scared now, "say that I'm an 'okay' kisser." The automatic impulse to ask "or what?" jumps to the forefront of her mind but she manages to catch it before it can leave her. She doesn't think pushing Chloe on this is a good idea. It makes her nervous to think of how Chloe might try proving just how accomplished a kisser she is.

Not that she needs to. Beca's full of crap on this one and purposefully so.

"Yes ma'am." She does risk a mock-salute though and Chloe's glare is searing.

"What do we say?" Beca blinks hard and swallows, trying not to smirk.

"You're a fantastic kisser, Chlo." She admits, because it is an admission, with a nod of her head and Chloe harrumphs, moodily. She finally retracts her finger and drops her arm back down to her side.

"For the record," she drawls after a moment, turning away from Beca and heading for the drawers on which George the bear is sitting, "I feel like a full, 'proper' experience would require us to be horizontal." Beca's heart rate spikes at the word and Chloe shoots her a look over her shoulder. It's sly and knowing and it makes Beca's blood itch. "Maybe next time we can try it on the bed."


It hits her as she's descending the stairs from her and Amy's shared room, laptop bag in hand and attire changed to one of the few practise-designated outfits that she alternates between. Hits her hard enough to make her stop short on the middle step, which in turn causes Amy to almost walk right into her and push her the rest of the way down. Thankfully, the Tasmanian catches herself in time.

"I thought hobbits liked walking." Beca doesn't even try to think of a come back, she just mumbles an apology and continues on, slinging the bag strap over a shoulder. Trying to move even though her blood has turned treacle and her legs feel wobbly and unsteady.

Chloe had said that she'd been thinking about kissing Beca. A lot. She can hear her saying it still, inside her molasses-filled mind, genuine and yet breezing over it like it was no big deal. Which makes Beca wonder; how much 'a lot' is. Because she'd thought about it too after that first kiss, hadn't quite been able to convince herself to stop thinking about it, and she would probably admit to thinking about it 'a lot' if she was asked in a way that suggested some kind of torture might transpire if she didn't answer truthfully.

But the idea of Chloe thinking about it that much makes the gears in her brain grind to a halt. Blinks a bright neon sign that reads 'why?' on and off behind her eyes. It makes her stomach do an obnoxious fluttering thing that has her feeling a bit sick.

"If your captain is the reason you're late for practise, does that give a person a valid excuse, thereby excluding them from all imagined punishments?" Amy asks, tone light but careful, from behind her. Beca shoots her a glance and a distracted shake of her head before.

"Sorry, you go ahead." She reaches the bottom and swings herself around to the other side of the banister, out of Amy's way. They usually all walk to practise together now, living in one place means they leave for the auditorium at basically the same time. Amy gives her a look but doesn't say anything more, just heads for the front door, through which the rest of the Bellas are exiting. As Amy tries to leave, Stacie dances around her and back into the hallway.

"Beca?" The woman in question looks up, releasing the lip she'd been gnawing at. "Can you grab Chloe? She said something about finding notes or sheet music. I wasn't really listening." Beca waves her away with a wry smile and Stacie blows her a thank you kiss before her long legs walk her over the threshold and out of the house. There's a shuffling sound coming from the living room and Beca figures that's probably the best place to start. Or, the ghost from the basement is relocating, making it the worst. She doesn't hesitate that long before entering. Chloe's on her hands and knees at the back of the couch, head bent low to the ground and backside in the air and Beca's eyes widen to about three times their usual size.

Chloe's wearing a cute pair of bright purple shorts that have a line of a lighter shade running down one side that's the same colour as her tank top. Which has sort of shimmied up her body, what with the angle she's bent at and gravity being a thing. Beca stands frozen in the doorway, mouth open and abruptly devoid of saliva. Her eyes move of their own volition, drifting up and over every curve, lingering at the small of her back where skin is visible. She flashes back to the kiss, how her hands had felt scorched. Then they're back on the shorts, the cut off and curve of them, and Beca is going to feel like such a confused creeper when she comes to.

"Ah ha!" Chloe's exclamation lifts Beca's whole body off the floor and her eyes jerk away so quickly that she's afraid she's strained a muscle back there. She throws her gaze into the furthest corner of the room and leaves it there while the redhead bounces to her feet. She turns on the spot like a dancer and smiles her surprise when she finds Beca standing – lurking – behind her. "Oh. Hey."

"Hi. Sorry, I was just, I was about on my way out but," she pauses, swallows, then tries to keep her eyes on Chloe, "Stacie said you were missing sheet music or something?" Chloe's brows knit together and she holds up a hand, waving the thing she'd just reclaimed from under the couch.

"I was looking for my phone?" Beca grimaces, flashing teeth.

"Oh wow, she really wasn't listening." Chloe's laugh is both unsurprised and unperturbed. She drops her hand back to her side and lets her eyes flicker up and down Beca's frame. When they find her face again, Chloe's grin is bordering on sly.

"Did everyone else leave already?" Wordlessly, Beca nods. "Aww, did you wait just for me?" She starts closing the distance between them, first one step and then another, and another until they're almost toe to toe. Beca doesn't budge an inch, just tries to keep her breathing steady and looks up into Chloe's baby-blues.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." One of Chloe's eyebrows begins a slow crawl towards her hairline and Beca rolls her eyes. "Not like that. Although, it is actually about that." Chloe looks intrigued now and Beca tries to summon every ounce of self-assured, cocky arrogance she has into one place so that she can harness it into this moment. This question. "So, um," excellent start, "when you said that," and her on and off eye contact is in top form today, "that thing about wanting to kiss me?" Chloe's eyes start to sparkle and Beca's hand clenches around the strap of her laptop bag. "That you'd been thinking about it? A lot?" She's given an affirmative hum in lieu of a proper answer and manages to pull off a somewhat subdued smirk. "How much is a lot?" A new strain of adrenaline flares to life inside of her as she watches Chloe's expression slip at the question, her confidence tripping, and the part of Beca that's sarcastic and sure brightens. "Because I feel like if it's enough to warrant mentioning, then it must be a lot." She inches closer and is strangely pleased to hear Chloe's struggled inhale. "And if it is, if you have been thinking about it a lot, then I wanted to ask why." She reaches up to boldly tuck a strand of red hair behind Chloe's ear, shooting for easy nonchalance and feeling as though she comes decently near the mark. Then she asks, smug and as if she already knows the answer, "Was I just that good?"

And there's a whole handful of seconds where Chloe just looks at her. Looks at her like Beca has just upended and overturned her whole world. And the sense of joy Beca gets from that is probably far closer to sadistic than it should be, but that doesn't matter right now. What matters is Chloe looking a lot like she doesn't know what to say. Chloe, looking a lot like she's blushing at some private thought.

But then something changes, imperceptible until Chloe's suddenly smiling that mega-watt smile, cheeks still stained with red, and she brushes every inch of her body against Beca's as she passes. Slowly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Then she's turning to skip out of the Bella house. By the time Beca's brain has reset and she manages to call out an agitated, "uh, yeah, that's why I asked!" before she has to run to catch up with her.


It's the way she'd said it that has Beca curious. So, just, normal. Like it wasn't a big deal or even a new development, because surely that would have required some adjusting? She made it sound like it was just something that's been happening and it has filled Beca with this intense need to know. To find out why. Yes, maybe the idea of Chloe having enjoyed that first kiss so much that she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it and had really, really wanted to do it again is giving Beca a weird high. So what? She's just curious. Chloe is her friend and if Beca is going to be questioning her own ability in that department, then who better to ask? It's totally not an ego thing. Not completely.

So it's really no big deal when she takes a quick break from the choreography she and Chloe have put together and pulls her cell phone out of her bag, fingers swiping through screens until she can thumb Chloe's name in her contacts. Just a bit of fun when she types out a quick "are you really not going to tell me?" and hits send in the messaging app. And if her breath comes a little quicker when she hears that creepy little minion laugh that the redhead uses as her notification tone, it doesn't mean anything. She's just curious because she's curious.

She grabs one of the bottles of water gathered in the centre of the table and cracks open the top, glancing sidelong at Chloe as she spots her turning in place, looking around for her cell phone. Beca's lips twitch at the sight, but she smothers the smile by taking a drink. Surreptitiously, she watches as the redhead finds the phone and goes through the motions of typing in her pass code.

Even when Chloe is standing in one place, she's always moving. Bending a leg at the knee and tapping the toe of her sneaker to some unheard tune. Bringing a hand to her mouth to nervously gnaw at the skin of her thumb. Distractedly touching her fingers to her throat, tips tapping out what might be the same tune as the one that gets her feet going. Chloe Beale is a live wire. Always charged and forever shocking someone, somehow. Constantly moving because to remain still would mean certain doom or admitting defeat or something. Right now, she's doing the toe thing. Pounding a rhythm into the floor and, Beca thinks, humming along to it. She knows the instant Chloe reads the text because her mouth forms this cute little self-satisfied smirk just before she looks over at Beca, who maintains unwavering eye contact as she brings the bottle up to her lips again. Carefully swallowing as Chloe looks back to her phone and types a response. Then she winks at Beca, who almost chokes on her water at the sheer salaciousness of the action, and strides back over to where she'd been helping Emily. Beca's phone chimes and she can't grab it quick enough.

Make me, babe. ;)

And so what if heat rockets along Beca's spine and her mind flashes back to earlier and that kiss. Where her hands had ended up and how soft Chloe's skin had been.

It doesn't mean anything.


"Okay, but for real." Chloe doesn't so much as bat an eyelash when Beca appears in her doorway, stepping into the room and kicking the door closed behind her. It's kind of annoying, the total lack of reaction, but Beca breezes over it like it doesn't bother her. "You said you'd grade me later. That's like a binding verbal agreement." Chloe only smiles over top of the text book she has open against her thighs, legs drawn up and bent at the knee. She has a bowl of grapes sitting next to her elbow and her iPod is filtering soft music into the room via the little player its docked into. Beca's gesturing with her hands again, using them like stage props as she speaks, aware but unable to stop herself. It's like that German chick all over again. "And it isn't even a big deal, so I don't know why you won't just-" Chloe snorts a laugh and it cuts Beca off as effectively as a slap might, with a similar resulting facial expression.

"If it isn't a big deal, then why are you so obsessed with knowing?" Beca, taken aback, blinks owlishly at her for a moment.

"Because you won't tell me!" She resists stomping a foot against the floor but she definitely sounds like a toddler throwing a tantrum and she hates herself a little bit. Chloe is still smiling like this is the funniest thing she's seen all year.

"I did tell you. I said a lot, so," she gives a few very confident nods, "that should be a good indicator." Beca blows out a frustrated breath and drops down onto the bed. She leans back so that her back isn't quite touching the mattress and her forearms are propping her up. Chloe can be so awkward sometimes, it drives her crazy. She might, secretly, love it.

"Yeah but, what..." she picks at the bedspread for no particular reason, "Like, where would I land on a scale of one to ten?" Chloe's smile only grows at the question and Beca's a bit beyond flustered at this point, but she's not about to let that stop her. She really wants an answer to this, even if she isn't quite sure why getting one has become so important. She just wants to know "One being 'I want to rinse my mouth out with battery acid' and ten being-"

"I want to rip your underwear off with my teeth?" It's said with such a heavy dose of innocent helpfulness that Beca's mouth falls open and stays that way for a long, long, so long it feels like forever, minute. Chloe's eyes sparkle like the sea and Beca fleetingly wonders how long it would take to drown in them. "Oh, are we not talking about the same scale?" Beca baulks, blinking hard and jerking her head back in surprise.

"Is that the one you usually use?" Chloe pops a grape into her mouth and knits her brows together, shaking her head as she chews.

"What other scale would I use?" Exasperated, Beca lets her arms give way and she drops the rest of the way down onto the bed, but manages to catch the back of her skull on the wall as she goes. She mutters a quiet "ouch" but refuses to rub at the spot. Something in Chloe must must feel a sense of sympathy though, because she closes the text book and leans to the side to place it on the floor next to the bed. Then in the same fluid motion, she's tipping onto her hands and knees and crawling towards Beca, whose stomach dips in time with the mattress. "It's very scientific." Beca arches an eyebrow and tries to hold still as Chloe creeps closer.

"Is that right?"

"Mm-hmm." Chloe hums, stalling in her advance only once she's as close as she can get to Beca without being on top of her. Beca's chest feels like there's a weight there already. "I have a whole system." Having little to no control over where her eyes choose to drop and sweep, Beca finds herself flicking back and forth between Chloe's eyes and mouth in a way that is probably really obvious. "A very methodical rating system." The urge to press herself further into the bed grips her momentarily, but since she's pretty much as into it as she's going to get, there isn't anywhere for her to go. Not that she's sure she even wants to, it's just her instinctual reaction. She feels nervous, having Chloe this close. Like an unbearable buzzing or tingling sensation is filling her up. And yet she doesn't want it to stop.

"Oh yeah?" It's becoming rapidly apparent that Beca is losing the ability to form coherent sentences, ones that don't make her sound like a whiny five-year-old that's about to shout 'I'm telling mom!', because jesus, no.

"Yeah. It isn't just the kiss you get graded on." She runs a finger down along the length of Beca's arm and grins when the skin erupts in goosebumps. "It's the touching, too." Beca emits some kind of non-committal vowel sound in reply. "And the lead up to the kiss." She's hovering over Beca at eye level now, still holding herself up on her hands and knees, and her curls brush against Beca's cheek whenever she moves. Which she does, dropping down, a millimetre at a time. "And whether or not," the words whisper against Beca's lips, "you can make me wish you'd keep going," Chloe presses hers against them, quick and quiet, leaving Beca feeling like her circuit box just had the wires torn out and now they're waving in the air, all frayed ends and dangerous sparks, "once you decide to stop." And just like that, Chloe's done. Pulling back with a wide grin and shuffling up towards the head of the bed again. Beca lies there, still as stone except for her eyes, which sneak a very unsubtle glance at the redhead as she settles back into her earlier position.

"Oh." She tears her gaze away and stares up at the ceiling, not thinking about how fast her heart is beating or what her response to that is probably supposed to be. "Sounds fool proof." She hears Chloe chuckle.

"Works for you." Beca pulls herself into a sitting position and shoots her a glare.

"So you have rated me." She keeps her narrow eyes trained on Chloe's face and watches as she tries to affect an air of cool collectedness, but largely fails because her smile keeps cracking the ice.

"Maybe." At Beca's exasperated look and the way she makes to get up like she's going to leave, Chloe waves her back down onto the bed with a laugh. Grudgingly, Beca complies. "Fine, fine. You're like a dog with a bone."

"Well, kill me for being curious. It's not like I've really had the opportunity to ask someone before." Beca's tone is dry. Chloe tucks her legs close to her chest and rests her chin on her knees.

"What, no teenage make out sessions?" She says over top of them and Beca's lips part in a grimace, showing teeth. Chloe pounces like a tiger. "There's a story!" She slaps the sides of her legs in excitement. "Spill!" Beca feels her face fall, horrified, because yes. Yes, there's a story. And Chloe is looking at her with those smiling baby blues.

She sighs and tugs her fingers through her hair. Chloe squeals delightedly and then shuffles over on the bed, lifting the bowl holding the grapes onto her end table and patting the spot beside her. Beca manages to muster a glower but only half of her heart is in it. She awkwardly moves around and nestles her body between the redhead and the wall. There's just enough space on the bed for them to sit side by side without quite touching, but Beca is sure she can feel Chloe's body heat. Magnetic field, gravitational orbit; something. She clears her throat.

"I was sixteen," Chloe lets loose another high-pitched sound, "okay, if you're going to keep making those noises then I'm just gonna go." The redhead lets out a giggle that is being blatantly and forcibly subdued, and reaches over to give Beca's knee an apologetic squeeze. Chloe's hand brushes against her thigh a little. Beca presses her lips together.

"Sorry. I'll be good." Only it's said in a way that makes it sound like Chloe's actually planning to do the opposite.

"His name was Paul and he was in my, I wanna say history class?" Beca screws her face up before dismissing that line of questioning with a shake of her head. "Doesn't matter. He caught me at the end of school one day and asked if he could take me out." Chloe is acting like this is the cutest story she's ever heard. Her face is nothing but one giant smile, which might be creepy if Beca didn't find it so damn endearing. Ugh. "My friends were there, and they all had boyfriends already, so I was always like this unnecessary seventh wheel." She pauses, a feeling of discomfort momentarily disrupting her thought process. Because she doesn't really like talking about that version of herself, the 'weird chick with the headphones' that's never had a boyfriend, who folded under peer pressure in a way that this version of herself would scoff at. She feels dumb, even though she knows she shouldn't because this is Chloe she's talking to. Still, she feels weird revealing that side of herself. Vulnerable. "So, I said yes." But Chloe just keeps on smiling.

Somehow, the warmth from it loosens Beca's muscles. Makes it easier to keep on talking. When she reaches the end of the tale, she doesn't feel as near as embarrassed as she'd expected she would.

"But why did you take his pants off?!" She's laughing more than she thought she would too, but Chloe's infectiousness is probably the cause of that. Chloe's probably everything to do with that.

"I didn't." Beca is quick to remind her. "And it was so he didn't have to drive home with Coke crotch, that crap is sticky when it dries. Besides, he had boxers on, it was totally fine. Or it would have been." Chloe is glowing with amusement.

"How did your dad even find you there? It wasn't your car you were parking in, right?" Beca shakes her head.

"No, I didn't even have a car, but when I didn't come straight home from school like a good little girl," she rolls her eyes, "my dad decided to launch a mini search party. He called my friends, went to their houses-" Chloe lets out a gasp.

"No way."

"Yes way, dude. And like, I wouldn't have even been that late. Two hours max. But one of them caved, I never did find out who, and told him I was out with Paul and that I was probably-"

"At 'Get Lucky' Lookout." Chloe finishes for her with far too much glee as she happily ignores Beca's continual protests of how she hadn't had any idea that was where he'd taken her. "I can't believe this happened to you. Oh my god, it's just too perfect." Beca scowls at her.

"Hey. How about we try some sympathy?"

"Oh, I'll get to that when it stops being funny." She quips, waving Beca's pout away with a hand. It's infuriating, but Beca can't stay mad at Chloe when her nose crinkles like that. "So, you never even got to make out with him?"

"Sadly, no." She neither looks nor sounds as though she has ever been bothered by this. She hasn't. "Not that the Professor believed me." Finally, a shadow of compassion flickers across Chloe's face and something about it – maybe the way her eyebrows pull down or how her smile is a little more crooked than usual – makes Beca think. "Why'd you pull away last night?" She never consciously gives her mouth any command that it could interpret as 'hey you, move' but her body doesn't seem to want to listen to her lately anyway. Chloe, for her part, actually looks shocked by the question, as though it's the very last thing she'd been expecting Beca to bring up. Which, coincidentally, had also been Beca's feelings on that matter up until about six seconds ago. Still, she doesn't take it back. Just waits, curious and resolute.

"I told you-"

"No, I know what you told me." She cuts in, using the same tone she'd use if Amy was trying to slack off in rehearsals. "But I was kind of hoping for the truth this time." Chloe frowns and Beca fights the urge to reach up and smooth out the crease with the pad of her thumb. After a few seconds of biting at her bottom lip, Chloe lets out a breath.

"Promise you won't freak out?" Beca's heart beats a little harder.

"Well, I haven't yet." She says with a wide smile and an exaggerated wink that appears to relax the other woman somewhat.

"When you touched me like that, I didn't want to stop." It's inevitable, but Beca tries really hard not to think back on that, the exact moment at which she had lost control and morphed into a seventeen year old boy like a seriously messed up Hulk.

"But you did."

"Yes."

"Why?" Chloe lets out a whine of a groan.

"Because it turned me on." She says it in a rush. Like the front end of the sentence is attached to the back of a moving freight train. Beca can't tell if her body goes cold or really, really hot. It takes her brain a bit too long to actually process what Chloe has said, but boy, when it does. It feels like a box of puppies has just punched her in the face and she can't help grinning like the cat who got the canary.

She feels what she can only describe as 'stupid giddy' at the very idea that she made Chloe so hot, she had to literally force herself away from Beca. If she were the type of person to burst into hysterical giggles, she's sure this would be the moment that would do it. As it is, she settles for smiling so wide her cheeks reach her eyeballs.

"What?" She gasps around it and Chloe drops her head with a groan, pressing her forehead against her knees to hide her face.

"Don't make me say it again." Beca's pretty certain she'd give her right arm to hear Chloe say that again. Something in her stomach won't stop squirming and she can't shake the feeling of being lighter, too light, lighter than air. "Are you totally horrified?" The question is muffled by a cushion of thighs and clothes. Chloe lifts her head again and stares at Beca with eyes that look dangerously close to being glassy. "Do you not want to do this anymore?"

"Hey, no. That's not-" she reaches out, awkwardly stopping half way to Chloe's shoulder before jerkily finishing the journey and letting her hand rest there. "No. I'm sorry. It's fine, it's totally fine. It's awesome." Chloe's scepticism writes itself in lines across her face. "It is! I mean, look at me." Beca lets her hand fall away to gesture down the length of her body. "Who wouldn't want a piece of this?" Finally, the stirrings of a smile appear. Beca isn't lying, it is totally fine. Even if it shouldn't be. "Why'd that make you stop though?" Chloe hefts a heavy sigh.

"Because I'd have wanted to go further than you were maybe ready for." Always back to Beca. Always back to Beca and how Beca's feeling about things, and making sure that Beca is okay. Sometimes, Beca doesn't know what she did to deserve someone like Chloe. She's never been particularly 'good' or 'nice'. Aside from helping a few old ladies cross the street, she can't think of anything she's done beyond the realm of regular human kindness – not too much that's even within it – that would have resulted in such a gift being bestowed upon her. Or why she's suddenly begun to wax poetic. There's something about looking a gift horse in the mouth sitting on the tip of her tongue, but it gets pulled back and pushed aside.

"You could have actually asked me, Chlo." She isn't sure why her voice is threaded with a thin ribbon of hurt. Isn't certain that her body feels it beyond the shake in her vocal cords. Her eyes stay focused on Chloe, who's face is darkening under her own personal cloud of guilt. "This isn't going to work if you don't talk to me."

"I do talk to you." Her tone is soft. It reminds Beca of the time shortly after Chloe's nodes surgery, when she would push herself too hard, too fast, only to end up having to talk in whispers for the next few days because it hurt too much. Always striving to be perfect, even when it hurts. "It took me off guard." She admits with a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders. "I'm sorry." She says it in that breathless, tearful way that makes Beca's insides seize. Like gears and cogs grinding to a rusty halt. She pushes her hand against the side of Chloe's leg, just below her knee, where her thigh meets her calf. It bumps into the other and both legs sway.

"You don't have to be sorry." She mimics Chloe's pose and rests her cheek against the tops of her knees, head turned towards the redhead. "This is new for both of us. We're going to mess up somewhere, it's inevitable. Well, for me at least. I apparently can't do anything right without getting it, like, really super wrong first."

"That's not true." Chloe's frown is concerned, overly so for Beca's meaning. She isn't looking for a pity-party.

"Can you call my boss and tell him that?" Chloe's eyebrows lift in unison and Beca's smile is instantaneous. Because she knows without a doubt that if Chloe was given even one eighth of a chance, she'd march down to Residual Heat and show the whole lot of them what a 'red-haired temper' really looks like. "Scratch that. I can't afford to bail you out and the Bellas need you at Worlds." And it's kind of astounding, what a compliment like that will do to Chloe's face. Beca tries not to focus too hard on that. There's a speech sitting at the pit of her stomach, gnawing its way around it like a shark circling prey. She lifts her head from her knees and tugs the fingers of one hand through her hair. She has more nervous ticks than a junkie. She cocks her head to the side, looking at Chloe with a mixture of hopefulness and hesitancy. "You can always ask, you know that right?" Beca isn't exactly always so approachable, not that Chloe's ever had a problem with that.

"Yeah." But Chloe's voice is still quiet, her eyes the tiniest bit less vibrant.

"It's not that I don't, I mean I love that you're being so..." she trails off, mouth hanging open and soundless, before finishing with, "considerate. But I'm doing this for you. Well, for you, and because I want to be the super cool friend who you totally remember forever and ever because of this really awesome thing we did." Chloe's shoulders shift in a chuckle and Beca sees the creases and lines that belong to her smile starting to form. "And I think that, if we're going to do this right, then you should be able to-to act on those impulses, you know? Run with whatever you're feeling." She pauses to take a breath and Chloe remains still and silent, save for her eyes which seem to be flickering about Beca's face like they're trying to get a reading. On what, she has no idea. "So, I guess what I'm saying," she's smiling too wide and her voice is too high, "is that if you ever want to do something... different... then, I'm cool with that." It's a lot to get out, in more ways than one, and once she's finished she feels exposed and awkward. But cerulean pools appear to be swimming a little less and for that, Beca thinks it's worth it. "Now you please say something." Of course, it doesn't diminish the awkwardness at all, but Chloe laughs and Beca finds that the pro outweighs the con once again.

"Are you giving me a free pass?" Chloe teases, after another few seconds of silent staring, and Beca finally breaks eye contact with a roll of her own. Her skin feels tingly, the kind of numbness you feel at the dentist's office right before the freezing sets in, and it scurries over her body at the implication. She lets her hands fall to the bed and balls up the duvet in the one hidden between her and the wall. When she feels a touch on her other hand, her head twists around and down to find Chloe's fingers dancing over the knuckles. "To just..." then under, pressing their palms together and lacing their fingers, "take what I want?" Beca's eyes flick up and she looks at Chloe through her lashes. She tries to keep her face neutral, but the beginnings of a smirk are there. She can feel it. See it on Chloe's face, in the way the redhead is grinning.

"Within reason." She says, slowly. Chloe narrows her eyes.

"Promise you won't hunt me down afterwards and punch me in the gut?" At that, Beca just gives in and lets the smile overtake her face.

"Not anymore, no." She likes hearing Chloe laugh. If she were to think about it, she'd say it was probably one of her favourite sounds. Not out loud, where it could be overheard, and not for any reason other than 'because it is'. But it is. She likes Chloe's smile and the way it makes Beca feel when it's pointed her way. She likes that Chloe is a huge dork and laughs at her dumb jokes, understands her dumb jokes. She doesn't even care when Chloe makes jokes at her expense because, again and again, the cons have nothing on the pros.

Which doesn't mean anything, not to Beca. Not yet.

Chloe brings their hands to her mouth and places a kiss against Beca's, chaste but firm and in the shape of a smile. And Beca's arm tingles at the way up to her shoulder.

It's not until later that Beca realises Chloe still hasn't given her a rating.