In the years following the USO Tour, every Barden Bella went her own separate way and managed to find a good life, even if it wasn't the life that they had first envisioned. Beca, herself, was living in one of those "semi-ever after" situations, currently working as a producer, manager and consultant at a halfway decent record company. It wasn't exactly to a Taylor Swift level of fame, but it was no janky little corner store either. When all was said and done she found herself feeling... satisfied. If nothing else.

But there finally came a time when satisfaction wasn't enough for the young artist anymore. As much as she liked being satisfied, she still wanted more. She didn't just want to feel ok and content, she wanted to feel thrilled and fiery and passionate. She wanted something to really energize and fulfill her! But no matter what she did, nothing could bring that burning delight back into her spirit. Instead, it was only ever that serene and mundane little satisfaction. It was pleasant, but that was all.

Her art, which had once been her greatest pride and joy, was now only a little creature comfort. She still adored her art deeply, but it no longer stoked the fires of her heart, and that was what tryuly left her feeling so unfulfilled and hollow, despite how steady her life was at the time. But she didn't want steady, she wanted exciting! She wanted art! Not a passing hobby. She wanted a passion! She wanted her real art back!

But even though Beca couldn't seem to find that energetic inspiration, that didn't mean that the energetic inspiration couldn't find her. Instead, against all odds and expectations, it finally managed to make its way right to Beca's door, and it came in the form of a very eerily familiar face. A very gorgeous eerily familiar face. And that face had a thick, snobby German accent. Oh no...

"Ah! Tiny Mouse! We meet again!"

"Holy crap, dude, no way!"

But sure enough, it was. The Kommissar, the fearless and flawless leader of the German acappella team called "Das Sound Machine", was back in town, and even though it had been many years since she and Beca last met, it was as if nothing had changed for them at all. Kommissar was still impossibly and unfairly long, blond and handsome while Beca was still reduced to a babbling, blubbering mess of a gay puddle whenever the powerful German singer was around. All it took was one cocky smirk from that drop-dead gorgeous face to undo all of Beca's own confidence and reduce her to the mouse the German so loved to call her. It was embarrassing, but it was like all of her control flew out the window whenever Kommissar was around. Even now, all Beca could do was stare (way) up at her and gawk.

"Ah, Mouse, it is good to see that you have not changed in all the years we have been apart!" sapphire blue eyes twinkled merrily as a tall figure stared down at the much smaller, meeker figure in the doorway.

"And what are you doing here?" came the pathetic attempt at standing her ground.

"I am here to perhaps make a record deal with the owner of this record company," Kommissar replied. "And you are very much in my way."

"Hey! I'm in nobody's way!" Beca frowned, but when Kommissar only raised one flawlessly sculpted eyebrow, Beca was quick to give a nervous gulp and step over. Kommissar gave her a smug nod before sauntering on inside, hips swaying tauntingly as she walked past Beca.

"Thank you, darling, I am glad you still see things my way," she purred as she walked past. Beca could only stare after her, aghast and agape...

As cruel fate would have it, even though Kommissar had come to do business with Beca's boss, Beca wound up being the one Kommissar spent most of her time with. As another higher-up in that business, her boss knew that she knew how to handle this sort of deal and had hurriedly pointed the German in her direction.

"Oh, crap!" Beca whimpered when she got the news that she was to be in charge of helping Kommissar make and uphold a contract with the company. Beca had wanted to die right then and there, but the sexy German goddess of music refused to let her go that easily.

"Even death shall not take you away from me!" she insisted, grabbing Beca's arm and all but carrying her into an empty recording studio nearby. Beca's mind instantly went to the gutter as she imagined all the things she could do to the German (or have the German do to her) if they were to lock that door. The studio had soundproof walls and doors after all...

"Oh, crap!" Beca repeated as her mind continued to play dirty with her, but this time, her exclamation was one of resignation instead of fear. She could only allow Kommissar to continue to drag her along, helpless but to obey the singer's mighty muscles and commanding aura.

But it was funny, as nervous and rueful as Beca had been about needing to work with Kommissar again after so long, things went far better than expected. Beca was still a helpless, hopeless gay mess around Kommissar, but since the two were no longer working as rivals, Beca did not need to spend as much time focusing on upkeeping a rival persona. That was a small weight off her shoulders and it meant that Kommissar, though she still loved to tease Beca mercilessly, was no longer quite as pushy, showy or mean. She was still quite prideful and arrogant, but that hostile flavor of their relationship was gone. It made things a tad easier for Beca. Though the idea of getting chummy with Kommissar was terrifying in its own right. But what could Beca do except work with her client and do the best she could to be the girl her boss thought she was?

As time passed, Beca succeeded, and she and Kommissar actually did manage to strike up a very genuine friendship. It was still a bit guarded on both sides and Beca still complimented Kommissar nearly nonstop, but she no longer felt quite so terrified whenever the German was near. She still blushed and stuttered like a simpering little idiot, but she no longer feared for her life or her sanity whenever Kommissar came near. Instead, it was more of a resigned fondness and a muted embarrassment...

"-and if we had a child, it would be normal sized!" Beca was in the middle of musing, but then she seemed to realize what she had just said and she was quick to slap a hand over her forehead in embarrassment and outrage with herself. Kommissar, however, only seemed to find the remark amusing, and she laughed accordingly. Beca had been in the middle of musing about their size difference (Beca being slightly smaller than an average woman while Kommissar was far larger than an average woman) when she made the offhanded remark that a child between the two of them might come out normal. Kommissar had quite liked such an idea, but Beca found it both stupid and mortifying and had reacted as such.

"If it makes you feel any better, mouse, I did used to be teased quite mercilessly for my rather large size," the German offered through a huff of laughter. This made Beca frown, both with disbelief that anyone would ever dare tease such a fierce and fearsome woman, and hurt to think that there was ever a time in her life when Kommissar had been bullied, mocked or ostracized.

"It's true, it's true!" Kommissar promised, seeing the look of disbelief on Beca's face. "When I was a "little" girl, the others used to mock me for being so tall and gangly and awkward. They called me "Daddy Long Legs" and "Moose" and an array of other insulting nicknames and none of the boys ever wanted to dance with me because what good and normal man wished to have a girlfriend who was taller than he was?" Kommissar shook her head with a bittersweet expression. "My height used to be an insecurity of mine, silly as it may sound. But the people I knew growing up were quite ruthless and they never let me forget how freakishly and abnormally tall and lanky I was!"

And that had been one of the first times the old duo ever really bonded. Beca had grown indignant on Kommissar's behalf, ranting against Kommissar's old tormentors, much to Kommissar's pleasure. And then Beca, herself, had confessed how rough it was growing up short. The pitfalls to this upbringing weren't hard to imagine. The size jokes, the literal belittling, and being a woman meant that sexist remarks were sometimes thrown in as well. So the two were actually quite well-matched in that regard, able to bond over their mutual size-problems, even though they remained on opposite ends of the spectrum in this case.

"But size does not matter now, does it, Mouse?" Kommissar teased with a suggestive little wink, but before Beca could try and ask what she meant by this, nervous giggle and all, Kommissar showed her mercy and gave her a different answer.

"After all, you and your little Barden Bellas were able to upstage all of DSM at the World Tour. Clearly the biggest is not always the best."

And for once, Beca had been struck dumb by the Kommissar, not because of her flawlessness or gorgeousness (though those were still things that tripped Beca up nearly every time they hung out) but because of the fact that, for the first time ever, Kommissar had actually, genuinely, complimented Beca. It was the first time Kommissar had ever said anything truly praising about the tiny American, and it was the first time she'd ever been willing to admit that she'd lost the world championship to a group of disgraced college students. Beca had no idea how to reply, so she didn't, but Kommissar understood what Beca's silence meant, and she took it all with one amused smirk.

From that day forward, an easier friendship began between the two of them. Even though that old flame and old messy chemistry was still there, Kommissar had grown far more relaxed since her first ever defeat (being beaten really had done wonders for her, making her far more laidback than she'd ever been before) and she was far more open with Beca now than she'd ever been before. Beca finally had something real to cling to in this change of heart from Kommissar and a real relationship was finally able to grow when, in earlier years, petty pride and silly, foolish rivalries had kept them firmly on opposite sides.

Beca and Kommissar began to spend an increasing amount of time together, in and out of the studio, and whenever they were together, along with romance, music was a very topic for the two of them. Whether they talked about personal projects, or each other's works and whether they talked theory or reality did not matter. Music was one of the biggest things for either of them, and they soon began to produce together, creating new music side by side and recording in a joint effort, instead of as two soloists.

"Excellent work, Mouse!" Kommissar praised sincerely as she and Beca finished recording another German tune Kommissar had written herself. It was nothing too complex, but she was genuinely proud of Beca for being able to sing the words so well, and she no longer had any problem in revealing this pride for Beca in full. It was so different from the strict and emotionless singer from years past. Now, she no longer hid herself, and was quite obviously pleased with what Beca had done. Beca, herself, was blushing with pride, her own ability to hide her emotions vanishing as entirely as Kommissar's had.

"Danke schön," she joked and Kommissar's smile widened as she heard Beca respond in her mother tongue.

Without even realizing it, Beca's spark had come back. It had crept up on her, but she finally realized it one day that her fiery passion and zeal for life had returned. She hadn't even realized it creeping back up on her and into her heart until it was already there, but suddenly, she was aware of it again. Suddenly, she was no longer just satisfied or content. Instead, she felt driven and ready, ready to go to new heights and explore uncharted territory, both in the world of music, and in her own mind. She suddenly truly felt alive again, and not as if she were merely getting by from day to day. And as she sat there in a recording room with Kommissar at her side, both of them belting away in German, it didn't take her long to realize what, or rather who, had been the one to give her back this zest and zeal for life.

Back when Beca had been making music alone, although it had been fun, what really made it so passionate and lively was having someone to work with. Art was always better when there was someone around to admire it, whether that be an audience member or a cocreator. Now, with Kommissar back at her life and at her side, Beca finally had that someone. She had that someone to share her art with. And someone who shared art with her. In a mutual round, the two went back and forth with each other, each woman sharing her art with the other before helping the other perfect that art. It was like an endless melody where the harmony parts intertwined and switched up to compliment one another and create a full song, each part getting its own little solo to shine before easily slipping back into the chorus to create the full work of art.

With Kommissar finally around to sing the harmony parts, Beca's life felt like a full song again and she had never felt happier. She was no longer just satisfied, she was truly happy, and she felt like a work of art, each and every note that she and Kommissar sung hanging in the air all around them and completing the masterpiece until nothing but the purest of art remained.

AN: In honor of "Art Day", we've got my favorite Pitch Perfect pairing. (Music is an art, so it counts :P)