A/N: I've considered deleting this chapter, smashing my computer, changing my name, and moving to Canada at least thirty times in the week and a half since I wrote this. So... let's not be dicks about it.
Chloe still won't tell Beca where they're going.
When they'd gotten back to Chloe's apartment, all Chloe had said was to "dress up." Beca obligingly donned the black dress and nude pumps Chloe had told her to pack.
The sight of Chloe in a navy blue dress that hugged her every curve, hair swept up elegantly, had taken Beca's breath away.
She can't stop staring at Chloe the entire car ride to wherever it is they're going. Beca wants to remember every detail—the curve of Chloe's jawline, the way her earrings sway when she turns her head, the soft glow of her skin in the evening light.
Beca would happily go anywhere as long as she's with Chloe.
That kind of terrifies her.
Finally, Chloe pulls the car into a parking lot near the ocean.
"We're here," she announces, twisting around to grab her clutch from the backseat and opening the door.
Beca slides out of the car, reveling in the salty smell of the ocean in front of them. She doesn't get to see it very often, living nearly four hours away from the coast.
It's then that she notices the very large, well-lit boat looming in front of them, the gangplank between the dock and its deck tilting slightly with the waves.
"Is that where we're going?" Beca asks as Chloe wraps a shawl around her shoulders.
"Surprise!" Chloe responds, grabbing Beca's hand and leading her up the walkway. "DC has lovely dinner cruises."
Beca clutches at the railing with one hand, holding tightly to Chloe's hand in the other. She appreciates the ocean on dry land, but she's always been a bit wary of being in it. (Or, rather, floating on top of it.)
They're greeted by a sharply dressed maître d', who smiles at them and welcomes them aboard.
"I have a reservation for Chloe Beale," Chloe says, still holding Beca's hand in her own.
The man scans his list. "Ah, yes," he says, and gestures for the pair to follow him. "Right this way."
He seats them a little table-for-two along the edge of the boat, so they have a spectacular view of the city.
"This is beautiful," Chloe gushes, and Beca murmurs her agreement. The lights of the buildings sparkle in the fading light, and the water laps gently against the hull of the boat. A soft breeze lightly lifts the tendrils of hair that have escaped Chloe's updo. Chloe catches Beca staring, but Beca just smiles softly and tangles her fingers with Chloe's on the table.
"Hello, my name is John and I'll be your server today," a man says, leather-bound menus in his arms. "How are you ladies this evening?"
"Fine, thank you," Chloe says politely, accepting a menu.
"May I get you some drinks?" John asks, and Chloe orders a bottle of expensive red wine before Beca can stop her.
"Chloe," Beca scolds once John is out of earshot. "You don't have to spend that kind of money on me."
Chloe shrugs. "I want to," she says simply, with a gentle smile that makes Beca's stomach flutter.
John returns a few minutes later with a bottle and two wine goblets, which he carefully fills before asking if they're ready to order.
Chloe orders some sort of fancy salad with a kind of meat that Beca can't pronounce, and she orders some seafood thing, only because she actually recognizes all the ingredients.
John excuses himself again, and Chloe reaches for her glass to taste the wine. She takes a sip and immediately makes this muffled half-moaning sound that sends shivers down Beca's spine.
"This is so good," Chloe says once she's swallowed. "Forget doing nice things for you—this is worth it even if I were alone."
"Gee, thanks," Beca says sarcastically, and Chloe nudges her leg with her foot under the table.
"You know what I mean." Chloe puts her nose to the glass and inhales deeply before putting it back down. "Beca, I know that the current circumstances aren't… ideal—"
"Can we maybe talk about this later?" Beca pleads quietly. "I don't want to think about that."
"Okay," Chloe agrees, giving Beca's hand a small squeeze. "But we have to talk about it sometime."
"I know." Beca averts her eyes, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions she's been trying to suppress for two months now. She squeezes her eyes shut momentarily and takes a deep breath.
"You okay?" Chloe inquires.
Beca opens her eyes again, plastering a smile on her face. "Fine." She decides to change the subject. "What do you do around here for fun?"
Chloe humors her. "I don't have a lot of free time because of work. My idea of fun is usually going for a run."
"How exciting," Beca drawls.
"It's better than eating takeout alone in my apartment all the time," Chloe shoots back, and Beca gasps dramatically.
"You wound me, Beale," she says, voice dripping with sarcasm, clutching at her chest. "And I also sometimes drink alone in my apartment, too."
Chloe rolls her eyes and ignores her. "I don't come into the city very often because it's a bit of a hike, but I do love the crime museum."
"Do you not get enough crime at work?" Beca raises an eyebrow.
Chloe shrugs. "It's a really cool museum. I also like the Holocaust museum, but I wouldn't say I go there for fun."
"I went there once on a class trip," Beca says.
"The Bureau takes all new agents there as part of their ethics training," Chloe tells her, taking another sip of wine.
John appears again with two steaming plates, which he sets on their table carefully. "Enjoy," he says with a half-bow. "Let me know if there is anything else I can get you."
"Thank you," Chloe says with a smile.
Beca's always been wary of fancy food—mostly because she's never quite sure what, exactly, is in it. She can identify shrimp, scallops, and lobster as she pokes at the food on her plate, but decides to just bite the bullet and brings a forkful to her mouth.
"Oh, my God," Beca says, not caring that her mouth is full and it's probably unattractive. "This is amazing."
"So is this," Chloe says, her eyes closing momentarily as she chews. "You have to try it."
Beca eyes the dark greens a piece of tender meat speared on Chloe's fork. She doesn't particularly want to try it, but she just can't seem to say no to Chloe. Reluctantly, she accepts the fork between her lips.
Her eyes widen in surprise at the flavor. "That's really good." Chloe just grins at her, reaching across the table to snag a piece of Beca's shrimp. "Are we going to be one of those couples who eats off of each other's plates?" she jokes.
Chloe looks at her with an expression Beca can't quite read. "Are we a couple?"
"Um." Beca tries to tread carefully, unsure what Chloe's thinking. "Kind of?"
"Beca, relax." Chloe smiles again, and Beca breathes a sigh of relief. "Do you want to be a couple?"
"Do you?" Beca deflects. (She can't help it—her natural instinct is to run far, far away in the face of commitment,)
Chloe rolls her eyes and huffs a little. "Beca Mitchell, will you be my girlfriend?"
"What are we, in high school?" Beca asks nervously. Of course she wants to be Chloe's girlfriend. (The thought sends shivers down her spine). But does she want to enter a grown-up relationship with six hundred miles between them?
Fuck it, she thinks. You only get to be Chloe Beale's girlfriend once.
"Yes," Beca decides. "Yes," she repeats with a little eye roll, "I will be your girlfriend."
"Good," Chloe says, looking very pleased, and Beca finds herself smiling back. "Oh, and Beca?"
"Hmm?" Beca looks up, a scallop halfway to her mouth.
"The things I'm gonna do to you later?" Chloe's leaning forward and has that let's-push-Beca's-buttons look on her face. "Definitely not appropriate for high schoolers." She winks before resuming eating.
Beca nearly drops her fork as her entire body flushes hot, from her scalp to her toes. The images that flood her brain—Chloe flat on her back on the bed, hair splayed around her sweaty face; Chloe's back arching as she cries Beca's name; Chloe's naked chest flushed and heaving—make her feel like a fifteen-year-old boy. She resents that, and it's frustratingly punctuated by the fact that Chloe is eating her dinner innocently, even though Beca is sure she knows the effect her words are having.
"Chloe," Beca says; she tries for a warning tone, but it comes out slightly strangled.
Chloe just winks at her again, and Beca is absolutely sure that this is how she's going to die.
Beca looks out over the harbor, relishing the cool breeze on her face. Once they'd finished dessert, they made their way up to the top deck.
The sight of her girlfriend—my girlfriend, Beca thinks giddily— leaning over the rail, wind blowing the stray hairs at the back of her neck, smiling softly, leaves Beca breathless. She reaches over to nudge Chloe's hand palm-up so she can tangle their fingers together. Beca wishes she could hold onto this moment forever—she's been romanced, wined and dined, but no one has done it quite like Chloe Beale.
"What?" Chloe asks, looking back at Beca, eyes wide and shining.
Beca hesitates; she's never been the feelings type, and has always balked at being vulnerable. But no one has made her feel as wanted as Chloe has, as accepted.
As loved.
"You're so beautiful," Beca says, surprised at how easily the words come out.
Chloe's face lights up with a grin, and she slips her hand out of Beca's in favor of sliding it around her waist to pull her in for a short but sweet kiss. Chloe cups Beca's cheek with her other hand, gently stroking with her thumb when they break apart. She looks at Beca reverently, like she's the only person on the planet.
I love you, Beca wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She vowed to herself that she wouldn't be the first one to say it—not after the last (and only other) person she really, truly did love got spooked and ran.
Plus, she's only been Chloe's official girlfriend for about an hour.
Instead, Beca clears her throat and looks back out over the water, Chloe's arm still wrapped around her.
Beca finds she's reluctant to leave when the boat finally docks and they're ushered back onto land. She stands with Chloe for a moment, looking at the sparkling lights of the city over the water for a final few minutes. The temperature has dropped considerably since they arrived, and Chloe leads Beca back to her car when she notices Beca shivering.
They're quiet as Chloe pulls out of the parking lot. Beca watches the city retreat into the distance through the window, then turns back to her girlfriend. (The word still makes her stomach flip.)
"Thank you," Beca says quietly, and Chloe reaches over to squeeze Beca's hand, eyes still on the road. "This was really nice."
"You're welcome." Once Chloe merges onto the highway, she turns to look at Beca briefly. Her sly smirk makes Beca's heart rate pick up. "Just wait until we get home. It'll be anything but nice."
"Do they train you in teasing at the Academy?" Beca grumbles, mostly to herself, but Chloe laughs.
"No, but they did teach me how to be quick on the trigger, if you know what I mean."
Beca groans and thunks her head lightly against the window. "You're actually a teenage boy. Did you know that?"
"You're not going to be saying that in about an hour." Chloe takes her eyes off of the road long enough to wink at Beca (again).
Beca just shakes her head and closes her mouth, not wanting to egg Chloe on.
She's not sure she'd survive it.
Beca follows Chloe through the door to her apartment, down the hall, and into the bedroom.
She's not sure what, exactly, she's expecting, but she's a little confused when Chloe proceeds to take off her shoes and put them neatly away in the closet.
Beca stands near the door, watching dumbly as Chloe carefully unpins her hair, placing the bobby pins on top of her dresser, and brushes out her red waves until her hair is loose around her shoulders. Beca kicks off her own shoes just to have something to do.
Finally, Chloe turns back to her, hands folded demurely in front of her. Holding eye contact, Chloe unzips the side of her dress, torturously slowly. She peels it off of her shoulders, letting it pool on the ground at her feet.
Beca just stares, mouth dry, at Chloe standing before her wearing only a black lace bra, matching panties, and a look that very clearly says what are you going to do about it?
Chloe steps forward, out of the dress, and Beca remembers how to move again, tangling one hand in Chloe's hair to bring their lips together. She splays the other hand against Chloe's back, relishing in the feeling of her warm, soft skin.
Chloe fumbles against Beca's back for the zipper on her dress, pulling it down hastily. She bites down harshly on Beca's lower lip as she divests her girlfriend of her dress, shoving it impatiently down Beca's body.
Chloe pulls back enough for Beca to kick the dress off of her feet and out of the way. Her eyes rake down the brunette's exposed form, and Beca thanks God that her underwear—while not being terribly sexy—at least matches.
Reaching forward, Chloe hooks her fingers in Beca's bra straps, pulling her back once more. She kisses Beca again, dragging her fingernails bluntly down Beca's back.
Beca shivers, a moan escaping her lips before she can stop it; Chloe takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into Beca's mouth, rolling it across her teeth in a way that makes Beca's knees weak, and her eyes flutter shut.
Chloe trails her fingers back up; Beca feels a tug on her bra clasp, and her breath hitches in anticipation. The material loosens around her ribs, and Chloe flings it to the floor. Beca opens her eyes to see Chloe's pupils dilate.
Chloe's fingertips teasingly trace patterns over Beca's breasts, skirting around her nipples until Beca grows in frustration, shifting restlessly on her feet.
"Bed," Chloe mumbles against Beca's neck, where she's started leaving a trail of kisses from Beca's ear to her shoulder.
It sounds like a very good idea to Beca, who obligingly allows Chloe to back her onto the mattress. Settling onto her back, she pulls Chloe down on top of her, relishing in the feeling of every inch of their bodies pressing together.
Chloe immediately resumes kissing down Beca's neck, over her collarbones, and on the tops of Beca's breasts. It's driving Beca mad, and she's probably left little grooves in Chloe's shoulders from her fingernails by the time she feels Chloe's breath ghost across her nipple.
"Fuck," Beca hisses when Chloe finally drags the flat of her tongue over her nipple. Her thighs tighten around Chloe's hips where she's settled between them. She feels Chloe smirk against her skin, her other hand coming up to roll Beca's right nipple between her thumb and index finger.
Beca's hands scrabble for purchase on Chloe's back, her fingers brushing the clasp of Chloe's bra, and she suddenly remembers that Chloe is still wearing hers. It takes her a moment of fumbling to get it undone (her brain isn't exactly at maximum capacity right now), but Chloe pulling her mouth away from Beca's breasts to pull the bra off and toss it to the floor is so worth it.
Beca runs her hands over between Chloe's breasts, brushing over the toned abdomen that she probably should thank the FBI Academy for. Impatiently, Chloe grabs Beca's hands and places them directly on her breasts.
Beca chuckles. "Demanding," she says, surprised at the low octave of her voice. Her laughter turns to a gasp when she feels Chloe's nipples harden against her palms as she squeezes experimentally.
Chloe's eyes fall shut for a moment, her breath coming in short pants as Beca pinches her nipples between her fingers, nipping softly at her neck as she does so.
Urgently, Chloe grabs Beca's chin and guides their lips back together, sucking on Beca's bottom lip in a way that distracts her from the hand slowly moving south.
Chloe's fingers dip just under the waistband of Beca's panties, running along the elastic teasingly. Beca breaks out of the kiss with a gasp, her hips bucking involuntarily.
Hooking her fingers under the fabric, Chloe looks at Beca, silently asking permission. Beca nods frantically, positive that if Chloe doesn't touch her soon she'll combust.
Chloe seems fully prepared to take her sweet time, but Beca nudges her with her foot and growls, "Don't even think about it."
Chloe just raises her eyebrows and tugs the panties down Beca's legs, tossing them over her shoulder. She moves to crawl back up Beca's body, but Beca holds up a hand. "Quid pro quo, doctor," she says, gesturing to Chloe's underwear which is still, frustratingly, on her body.
"Are you really quoting The Silence of the Lambs to me right now?" Chloe asks, chuckling. She yanks her panties off, discarding them onto the floor.
Beca is momentarily struck dumb by the expanse of exposed skin. She decides that Chloe Beale is officially the most attractive human she's ever met.
Chloe moves back up to hover over Beca, kissing her sweetly as her hand traces patterns over Beca's skin—down her neck, over her breasts, on her abdomen. Her touch sets Beca on fire, every nerve in her body on red-alert. Her chest is heaving by the time Chloe fingers finally, finally dip between her legs.
Beca inhales sharply as Chloe slips her fingers through her folds, eyes darkening when she feels just how wet Beca is. Slowly, she circles Beca's clit, and Beca can't stop herself from grinding against Chloe's hand, searching for more friction.
Beca's already close, and she can feel her inner walls starting to clench down on emptiness. She thinks the past two months have been leading up to this moment, but she still cries out in surprise when Chloe gently slips one finger inside her.
"Fuck," Beca gasps. Her hips are moving entirely of their own accord now, her moans coming out weak and breathy against Chloe's neck. She feels the tightening in the pit of her stomach building rapidly, and she barely has enough time to take a breath before she's coming, calling out Chloe's name.
Carefully, Chloe slows her movements, peppering kisses over Beca's face and neck. "You're so fucking beautiful," she breathes, and Beca's never believed anything more. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Beca says, trying to catch her breath. "Jesus Christ."
"You can just call me Chloe."
Beca rolls her eyes, pushing herself up and easing Chloe onto her back. "A little full of ourselves, are we?"
"I did just make you come in about a minute and a half, so…" Chloe winks, trailing a finger up Beca's inner thigh.
Beca bats her hand away. "It was not that fast," she denies, flushing.
"It was," Chloe insists, smirking wickedly. "But I just consider it a testament to my skills."
"Shut up," Beca says, ducking her head to bite down gently on Chloe's nipple.
Whatever smart remark Chloe had been about to say gets cut off with a gasp, and Beca smiles to herself. She licks up between Chloe's breasts as she nudges her girlfriend's legs apart, bringing her hand between them.
Beca makes a rather unattractive choking sound when her fingers skid through wetness, feeling oddly proud, knowing that it was her who did that.
Chloe immediately arches up, pushing her hips into Beca's hand. She moans loudly, head tipping back, and Beca silently apologizes to Chloe's neighbors. Lightly, Beca teasingly rubs Chloe's clit.
"Harder," Chloe grunts, tugging Beca's face near her own and biting her lower lip.
Beca chuckles against her mouth, circling more firmly. She's rewarded with a sexy whimper, nails digging into her back.
Cautiously, Beca presses one finger into Chloe, carefully watching her face to make sure she isn't hurting her. Chloe arches again, pushing harder against Beca's hand, and Beca adds another finger, positioning her thumb at Chloe's clit.
"Fuck, Beca," Chloe groans. Her face is flushed and sweaty, hair splayed out like a halo against the pillow as she bites down on her lower lip. The sight stills the breath in Beca's lungs, and she nearly forgets what she's doing until Chloe urges her on with a breathless, "Harder."
Ignoring the burning in her arm, Beca curls her fingers, trying to find the spot that will make Chloe fall apart. Suddenly, Chloe cries out sharply, her muscles starting to contract around Beca's fingers. Beca uses her hips to strengthen her movements. She tries to memorize everything about this moment—the way Chloe screws her eyes shut, hands gripping in the sheets, breasts bouncing with every thrust.
"Bec—" The word barely leaves her mouth before Chloe starts to unravel, back arching so hard that Beca worries it'll be sore tomorrow. Gradually, Beca slows her fingers before pulling out and flopping down next to Chloe. She slings an arm around Chloe's waist, listening to her rapid breathing starting to even out.
"Wow," Chloe says after a couple of minutes.
"Yeah," Beca answers quietly, smoothing a stray lock of red hair away from her girlfriend's eyes. Then a laugh bubbles out of her chest before she can stop it.
"What?" Chloe pokes at Beca's arm.
"When you first came to Georgia and gave us your number, Jesse kept asking me if I was going to 'tap that,'" Beca says, lifting her hand slightly to make air quotes. "And I kept telling him that I wouldn't."
"I've made a liar out of you." Chloe smiles, wrapping her arm around Beca's shoulders.
"That's okay." Beca yawns, lazily tracing her fingertip down Chloe's side, watching as goosebumps rise along her path.
They lie in silence, save for the sound of their breathing, for a long time. Beca lifts her head up just enough to look at Chloe's face; it appears as though she's asleep.
Eyelids drooping with exhaustion, Beca nuzzles against Chloe's skin, trying to commit her scent to memory.
"I love you," Beca whispers, so quietly she's not even sure she's said it.
It's kind of cowardly to say it when no one is listening, but it's rather cathartic. Or, at least, it is until she hears—
"I love you, too."