Flowers.

He sent her flowers.

A dozen bright, ruby red roses resting gently inside a sparkling, crystal clear vase, filled just about half way with water.

That's what she finds sitting upon her work desk when she returns from doing her afternoon Starbucks run. Although, now she's suspicious of Jesse and the fact that he probably sent her out for coffee just so he could get the flowers into the office without her being curious about anything.

She curses herself internally for the smile that curves her face, curses him for making her feel this way: giddy, excited and…happy.

She hates that he does this to her. Hates that someone has that type of control over her and her emotions. But most of all, she hates that she's put herself in this situation again. Hates that she's put herself there almost willingly.

She couldn't shake these feelings that Jesse Swanson gave her.

She lifts a single rose between her index and middle finger, smelling the fragrance that fills the air, placing it gently back in against the beautiful arrangement prepared in front of her. She lifts the small white envelope, her name written in a fancy elegant script across the stark surface. She pulls the card out of its casing, reading the short message before her:

We'll make this work. I promise.

Jesse

She knew it was him, no one else would send her flowers. But still, reading the card, seeing his name on that little piece of paper, it only caused her smile to grow even more. She kind of feels like a teenager again, giddy and excited over these little gestures, over the unknown of where their relationship could go.

She finds her feet leading her to Jesse's door, knocking a soft three times before entering to see him buried in stacks of paperwork behind his desk.

He looked stressed, she could see it in his eyes, the creases in his forehead. The shuffling of the papers he makes among the stacks in front of his body. It changes instantly though, as soon as he sees her small frame peak around the doorframe and fully enter his office. His lips start to curve upwards at the sight of her, and she closes the door quietly behind her.

There's no words spoken between them. Jesse gently guides his body to hers, his lips finding hers in the brightly lit room. The floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city behind them, allowing all the natural light to flood in around them.

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Kissing him was wrong. But why did it feel so right?

Why did everything about this guy make her throw logic and sense out the window?

She pulls back after a moment, muttering softly, "Thanks for the flowers."

"I mean it, you know," he says quietly. "We'll make it work."

She just nods wordlessly, eyes closed and head bend. A brief moment of disbelief, a lack of certainty in this all. Because what if. What if this doesn't all work out, what if this is just some silly pipe dream and she's setting herself up for heartbreak again?

"Hey, hey," his gentle hands push her chin up, forcing her to open her eyes at his soft tone. "We will make it work, alright? I'm gonna talk to her."

She nods, the calm in his voice, the gentle manor of his tone. Her hands find his, still resting below her chin. "Okay."

"I do have another surprise for you, though."

"Another surprise?" She steps back, happy to hear the vigor in her voice has returned. "You're spoiling me, Swanson."

"I think it might cheer you up. Put you in a good mood," he smiles. "Well, an even better mood because I know my presence alone is enough to put you in a good mood."

"Be careful there, Jesse. If I didn't know better, I might say it sounds like your ego is growing." She pauses a moment, waiting for him to continue, to just spit it out, but he doesn't. He just stands there in front of her with that dumb goofy grin of his that she can't seem to get enough of. "Well? What is it?"

"You are free of work for the rest of the day," he smiles even bigger, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Get out of here and take the afternoon off."

"You're joking," she says. "You're just messing with me."

"No, really…" but he's interrupted before he can finish what he was going to say.

The door opens suddenly behind her, Stacie standing there, pen and notepad in her hand. "Jesse, I have a question, I've got…" But she trails off when she looks up at the two them, eyes wide open at the sight in front of her.

Beca drops their linked hands suddenly, stepping away from Jesse briskly, trying to act as if everything between them was completely work related and causal.

"Well, don't let me interrupt a good time," Stacie says, smirking. "Just try to keep the volume down, if you know what I mean."

Beca feels her cheeks turning red at the words. Leave. She needed to leave now.

Stacie grins, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Beca. It's just human nature."

"Bec," Jesse interrupts and her focus shifts back to him. "I probably should have let you in on the fact that Stacie's had us pegged for a while."

That takes her by surprise. "How would she…figure that out?"

"She's got this weird sixth sense," Jesse shrugs. "It's kind of annoying, actually."

A scoff from Stacie by the doorway. "Please, Jesse. You love it."

"Right. Okay, I'll let you two figure out what she needs help with," Beca turns towards the office door, ready to get herself out of there.

"Enjoy your afternoon off."

Stacie, watching Beca head out, door whips her head towards Jesse. "You gave her the afternoon off?"

"I did."

"Can I have the afternoon off?"

"No," he states, settling himself back into his chair. "You have work to do."

Beca just laughs quietly to herself at their playful banter as she closes the door behind her.


"I think Jesse's having an affair."

Chloe almost spits out the vanilla bean cappuccino she was sipping on right at Sadie. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Sade, are you sure?" That question comes from Sadie's sister, Kara, who Sadie was extremely happy to have in town for the next few days because of a business deal taking place within Kara's company. She didn't tell Chloe about Kara joining them today for coffee - she knew Chloe would have bailed on their plans if she found out about a third wheel joining along. It was classic Chloe. "And you have proof?"

"Yeah," Chloe says. "That's a huge accusation to make about somebody without having any solid evidence."

Sadie pulls out a blue flannel shirt from her black handbag. Designer, brand new. And it hasn't even hit the public market yet. Sadie has to say she's quite proud of herself for acquiring it. "I have this shirt."

It's hardly evidence to bring these two on board with her theory, but it's all she's got right now. And it doesn't matter if they don't believe her, she knows this shirt belongs to Beca Mitchell.

Upon seeing the shirt, Kara lets out a deadpanned, "And?"

"I found this is my house," she states. "It was tossed aside and all ruffled up near the windows."

"Sadie, no offense, but that shirt could be anybody's," Chloe states. Typical. It's the reaction she expected from Chloe. She knew Chloe would jump to Jesse's defense. "Are you sure you're just not being paranoid?"

"He works all night long, he's almost never home anymore. We barely speak to each other."

Sadie didn't want to point out that they hadn't been speaking to each other for a while. That wasn't a new development. Things were rocky between the two of them for quite some time, but she wasn't going to point that out to them now. Not with Kara around. Kara didn't know of her and Jesse's romantic troubles. She was under the impression that everything couldn't be better between them. She planned on keeping it that way.

Chloe knew this though, she was sure of that. Jesse must have been sharing his personal life details with her. The two were good friends, after all. But if she did, she didn't let on that she was in the know of anything.

"Sadie, be real. He runs a company," Chloe says. "You know how hard he works. How busy he is."

"I know that. I know," she says. "I just…I know something's going on. Call it woman's intuition. Something is up."

Her sister asks, "Do you have any idea who he's having an affair with?"

"It's his new assistant," she states matter-of-factly. "Beca Mitchell."

Sadie hears how Chloe almost chokes on the croissant she's nibbling on. "Beca? Sadie, c'mon."

"This shirt," she holds it up again, gripping onto it tightly in her palm. "It's hers. It has to be. She's the only person I know who wears plaid."

"Sadie, I wear plaid. It could be mine for all you know."

"I'm telling you guys," Sadie says. "It's her. She's the girl Jesse's fooling around with."

"Sadie, I mean, being honest here, Beca's one of my best friends. She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't put herself into a situation like that."

That was new information. She didn't know Chloe was close friends with Beca. She didn't even know Chloe knew Beca. She probably would have thought twice about inviting Chloe along today had she know that tidbit of info.

"She could have just stopped by to drop off papers or something," Chloe adds. "Stacie's done that so many times before, hasn't she?"

"Yeah. Maybe, I guess," she says. "I guess that could be it."

"You're putting way to much thought into this. Jesse's not cheating on you, he wouldn't do that."

"You two are like the poster children for a perfect relationship," her sister chimes in. Well ,that couldn't be further from the truth. But her sister didn't need to know that right now. Or ever if she had any say in it.

"Well, I've gotta run," Chloe announces, standing up from the wooden chair. "Mom's flights getting in about now."

"Oh, no. You're leaving already?"

"Sorry, Sade. Mom won't be happy if I'm late to the airport." Chloe swings her bag over her shoulder, grabbing her sunglasses and keys set against the flat surface of the table. "It was nice meeting you, Kara."

"You too, Chloe."

"And, Sadie, really. Don't overthink this thing with Jesse. I mean, it's Jesse. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Sure, Chlo." Sadie smiles up at Chloe, hopefully convincing her that she's going to forget the whole thing.

As soon as the commercial door to the cafe closes behind Chloe's figure, Sadie leans across the table to her sister and asks, "You believe me right?"

"Of course, Sade." Kara rubs her hand up and down her sisters arm gently. "You're my sister, of course I believe you."

"Good," Sadie says. "Because Chloe surely doesn't."

"Why wouldn't Chloe believe you, though? I thought she was your friend."

"Sure, I guess. We're friendly, I'd say. Friends? Maybe. But she was friends with Jesse first. She'll be loyal to him before she's loyal to me."

"How do you plan on actually getting proof that he's cheating? Because I hate to tell you, but the shirt proves nothing."

"I don't know."


She's late, she's so late and behind schedule. She knows this, she knows. But Amy banging on her door repeatedly is so not helping her get herself ready faster.

"Open the damn door, Mitchell!"

She shouts out, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Beca only managed to put one of her boots on before Amy started screaming at her, almost tripping on her way to the door.

"About time," her blonde friend responds once the door between them is no longer an obstacle. "Beca, please tell me you plan on putting another shoe on. If this is some new style thing, it's not working."

"You didn't give me much time to get the other one on before you started screaming at me to open the door." Beca glares at her friend from the couch, lacing up the second combat boot now. "You know, I have neighbors. They don't appreciate that stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. They'll get over it."

"And you know, we are just going for lunch. We're not on, like, an actual clock here. It's just you riding my ass."

Amy ignores her, eyes focused only on the dozen red roses sitting on her coffee table. She really should have thought to hide those before allowing Amy over to pick her up. She comments, "Nice flowers."

Beca just mutters a simple, "Thanks," trying to show as little interest in the conversation as she can.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume those are from your secret lover."

"He's not…" Amy stops her with a non amused look being shot in her direction. "He's not my secret lover."

Amy scoffs. "What else do you call making out with a guy that's done in secret?"

"We don't do that." All Amy does is give her that yeah, right glare that she's all too used to getting. "We don't!"

"Alright, we'll pretend I believe you," Amy responds.

"Thank you."

"I don't believe you." Beca groans at Amy's constant badgering. "But I'll just go on pretending like I do."

"Sure, okay. Whatever. I don't feel like arguing with you about this."

"Someone has to keep you in check over all this. You certainly have thrown all common sense out the window. One of us has to be the adult here."

"You know, I'm ready," Beca says, grabbing her keys and phone and sunglasses off the kitchen island. "I've been ready. I thought you came over here to pick up and not interrogate me."

"I did," Amy smirks. "Interrogating you is just an additional benefit."

"Right. Sure. Can we just get going?"

"You sound off, are you alright?" Amy asks her as Beca locks the door behind them. "You sound like you're sick or something."

"Yeah, I think it's just allergies or something." Beca shrugs off the accusations. She's fine, she's not sick. Beca Mitchell doesn't do sick. "I'm fine. Let's just go."


Jesse never thought he'd be so happy to be back in his own office as he was that afternoon.

He'd been stuck in meetings with clients and potential vendors at some hotel downtown all morning. He couldn't even remember which hotel it was that he showed up at he was so exhausted. Marriott? Hilton? Some 5-star hotel he didn't even know the name of?

He walked down the corridor to his office, surprised to find Beca's desk empty. He'd left her a few tasks to complete while he was gone, nothing too strenuous, just something to keep her busy while he would be out of the office for morning. She should have finished those by now, though. He expected to find her at her desk, munching on some lunch or working hard to finish up other tasks she knew that needed to be done.

But she was nowhere in sight. In fact, he didn't even see her car in the parking garage now that he thought about it.

He backtracks his steps just a few feet, stopping at Stacie's office and letting himself in when he sees her door is wide open.

"Do you know where Beca took off to by chance, Stacie?"

"Oh, sorry!" Stacie looks up from her computer. "Sorry, Jesse, I meant to send you a text this morning. It must have slipped my mind. She called out. She's sick. She didn't sound that good, really congested. And raspy."

Worry washes over him like a flood. "She's sick?"

"Yeah, she called in pretty early," she replies. "Said she didn't feel good and wouldn't be making it in today and that she should be back tomorrow."

"Did she say with what?"

"No, but you know it's the season for these things. It's probably a cold. There's a lot of stuff going around right now."

"Right. Okay," he mutters quietly. But truthfully, he can't shake the image of Beca curled up in her apartment - sick and unwell. He doesn't want her to be sick. He especially doesn't want her to be alone. "Thanks, Stacie."

"She's alright, Jesse." He's not surprised to hear that, not surprised to have had Stacie notice the worry that clearly and quickly came upon him. They've known each other too long, worked together too long for anything to get by her. "I can see you're worried, but she's okay."

Jesse just nods wordlessly before exiting her office and making his way back towards the elevators.


Beca's found herself a comfortable place on her sofa, put on some random movie channel, and really, she hasn't moved much all day.

And she's perfectly satisfied with that.

She's been in and out of sleep all day, this cold really wanted to knock her on her ass for a day or two.

Damn Amy for suggesting she was sick. She totally jinxed it.

The door knocks at some point in the early afternoon and Beca doesn't want to be bothered by getting up, so she just shouts out, "It's open!" She hopes when whoever is out there realizes it's not actually open, they'll just go away, but to her dismay, Jesse's voice comes back shouting, "No, it's not."

Jesse. She gets up then, trudging her way to the door slowly, opening it for the boy behind the wooden frame.

"What are you doing here? You should be working."

"I heard you were feeling a little under the weather," he replies sheepishly. "So, I kind of rushed over her to make sure you were doing okay."

Okay, that almost brought a smile to her face. But just almost. She was too sick to care about forcing her lips into a grin today. But it does make her feel a certain way. Special, maybe. That Jesse cares this much about her to come check on her. That he's worried about her and wants to take care of her. It's a nice feeling, one she really hasn't had with a boy before.

"So, someone told me you were feeling a little sick today."

"A little?"

"Maybe more than a little," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Urgh," she groans, turning around and allowing him to enter her apartment. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

He joins her on the couch, sitting just a few inches from her. Jesse holds out the small bag from Panera Bread in his hands out to here. "I did bring you some chicken noodle soup though. I thought it might help."

"Thanks," she grabs the bag, digging in right away. She's starving. She hadn't ate a thing all day. "You didn't have to do that."

"No, but by the looks of it, I'm glad I did. Did you eat at all today?"

"No." She takes the plastic cover off the hot bowl of soup, digging in with the flimsy black spoon that was packaged inside and taking her first bite. "I was too exhausted to even get up. All I've done is sleep."

"That's not a bad thing you know."

"No, I know." She closes the soup lid again, pushing it off to the side table beside her. "I just hate it."

He notices her actions, watching her as she tosses the warm bowl of soup of to her side. "Do you not like the soup? Is it not good? I can get you something else."

"No, it's not that," she says. "The soup tastes fine." And she knows she shouldn't, but she pushes herself into his side and rests her cheek against the warmth of his chest. She's happy when she feels his arm curl around her side and hold on to her tightly. "I just feel nauseous."

His hand brushes against her side lightly, up and down and up and down. "How did you get so sick?

"You've overworked me, that's what it is."

"Or," he suggests. "Maybe it's just flu season and you've caught a cold or something."

"I guess it could be that."

The softness of his fingers rubbing against the fabric of her shirt is calming, tranquil. Peaceful. The low buzzing of the television volume echoing in the room like a lullaby. The heat radiating off his body is soothing and comforting.

She closes her eyes, closes them slowly, telling herself she'll just rest them for a moment.

But before she knows it, she falls fast asleep against the comfort and warmth of his body.


Sorry for disappearing for a month…again…

But, the good news is I've finished outlining the rest of this story! And I'd like to not drag it out…so I'm gonna work hard at getting this all written and out there.

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and be sure to let me know what ya thought!