Velma had Daphne cornered in a bathroom stall.

Not that Chloe was complaining. In fact, she was almost ashamed at how many times she whispered, "Yes," as Beca asked her if she was okay, if she wanted her, if she was horny, if she was naughty, if she was close. If she was hers.

She had to grab the top edge of the stall to keep herself upright with the magic happening under her skirt.

She was almost ashamed when she knew Aubrey walked into the bathroom in the middle of it, loudly chatting with another girl about their possible selection of mates for the evening. She was almost ashamed when a moan escaped and Aubrey loudly commented that she could recognize Chloe's voice anywhere, and added that Beca better be treating her best friend properly in there - or else.

She was almost ashamed when she moaned again and slapped her other hand against a metal wall to indicate that yes, Beca was treating her like a queen in there; a drunk, horny queen with her thong around her knees and a foot on the edge of a toilet, but a queen nonetheless. A thought flitted around in her blurry brain that she could be mortified about this in the morning, her bestie essentially walking in with naught but an aluminum box separating them, even communicating with each other in the middle of it.

But a third finger made its presence known and Chloe didn't give a hoot. She came apart with Beca's teeth pulling on her earlobe, chuckling proudly in her ear before groaning as Chloe spun them and returned the favor.

"I swear, you're going to get me arrested one of these days," Chloe said as they caught their breath and pulled underwear up legs that were made unsteady by more than just the alcohol consumed that night.

Beca unlocked the stall and washed her hands at the sink, still smiling. "Jail isn't so bad."

Chloe laughed, a big, loud laugh because she'd almost forgotten Beca got arrested at their first Regional competition, and the thought of Beca in the slammer was hilarious. Maybe the vodka and endorphins made it funnier.

She had more fun on the dance floor after their...release. It was pushing 2:00 am and they were both dancing with guys who were nice enough to ask permission instead of strutting up and grinding their crotches into their backsides, which seemed to be the M.O. for many of the guys that night. For the most part, these guys even kept their hands to themselves.

It felt weird to Chloe, watching Beca dance with a guy. Beca and Jesse never really danced. Not like she danced with Chloe, or this guy. No, their dancing was usually a form of jumping around, maybe while holding hands. There was no grabbing and there was certainly no grinding like there was now.

She was jealous, sure, but kept it in check since she wasn't exactly being so innocent with the cutie with the bright smile and dark eyes in a doctor costume. But it was also sexy the way Beca moved with him, the way she put her hands on his chest or ran her fingers through her hair or made eye contact with Chloe when she did it, smirking, as though she knew she was driving her crazy.

Briefly she considered joining in Beca's game, but her guy was getting a little too excited behind her with all the grinding happening, and she didn't want to lead him on. So she eased away from him, turning around to excuse herself, and he let her go, miming as though she had broken his heart. She smiled apologetically and stepped behind her girlfriend to hold her waist and fall into Beca and her partner's rhythm.

Beca looked over her shoulder at her, a little amused, maybe a little curious as to why Chloe didn't simply cut in, but rather joined them.

"It's kinda hot watching you dance with him," she husked in Beca's ear.

Beca definitely heard her, because Beca's dancing grew less and less innocent; Chloe could feel it in the way her hips moved, because her own were pressed into Beca to move in sync. She had to move her arm from around Beca's waist because there simply wasn't room for it any longer. She settled for one hand on her waist and one on her shoulder, using it to pull her hair back. At the moment, Chloe hated that Beca was in a turtleneck; her lips desperately wanted to latch onto her neck and not let go. She settled for pressing them to the curve of her jaw below her ear.

She felt hands on her own waist and looked down, surprised to see guy resting his hands on her lightly. She looked up to meet his green eyes and he was smiling, but not the gross creeper smile most guys flashed when they saw Beca and Chloe display any level of PDA. It was one of those nice smiles that didn't have ulterior motives behind it, despite the fact that he pretty much had two drunk girls grinding on him.

"That's a good color on you," he said, loud enough for her to hear, voice distinctly pitched higher than she expected.

And she laughed. No wonder he was being so restrained. He was gay.

No sooner had she realized it than another man joined them, announcing he would be stealing him for the night, and their little dirty dance was over.

Beca turned and draped her arms over Chloe's shoulders, still dancing, eyes closed as she felt the music. Chloe watched her, the flush of her cheeks, the way her tongue absentmindedly licked over her lips as she tilted her head back and lifted her arms, hands over her head as she moved, taken by the beat. She held Beca's waist lightly and felt her twisting and bending beneath her fingertips. Chloe had always found Beca sexy, to varying degrees, depending on the circumstance; it ranged from adorable-sexy to porn star-sexy, and right now she was somewhere at Beyoncé-sexy, pulling at her sweater because it was really too hot for a turtleneck sweater, or lifting her hair off her neck in a way that dared Chloe to kiss it.

Her hands moved instinctively, slipping under the sweater, and she was reminded that Beca was wearing a camisole under it. It was black, not orange, and would thus break the perfection of their costumes, but she couldn't bear to see Beca be uncomfortable, even though she wasn't actually complaining. So, she did something that under more sober conditions would have likely made them both take pause: she pulled the glasses off Beca's face, hung them on the neckline of her own dress, and whipped the sweater up and over Beca's head in one quick motion, careful to keep the camisole in place.

Beca wore a look of surprise once her face was re-revealed. She looked down at herself and the sweater that Chloe was now trying to figure out to do with as it hung limply in her hand.

"You planning to strip me naked on the dance floor?" she said, shouting to be heard.

"You looked hot," she shouted back.

"You look hot, too," Beca said with a wink as she threaded her fingers through the damp hair at the base of Chloe's neck, tugging a little, making Chloe shiver.

They both knew that wasn't the kind of hot Chloe meant, but the kiss she found herself pulled into made it that kind of hot, and she had to wrench herself out of it after a minute or two because, well...it was hot.

The DJ announced last call and with a gasp and a clap, Beca disappeared, saying something that sounded like market research?, leaving Chloe alone on the dance floor with her sweater. She assumed she was running to the bar, but instead she saw her climb the steps to the DJ booth; it was the second time she had visited it and the guy appeared to remember her. Chloe watched them talk for a moment and the guy shook her hand and pulled off his headphones and handed them to her, to which Chloe's jaw dropped.

She knew DJs didn't hand over their booth to just anyone. It took nearly a year before Beca allowed Chloe to play with her gear unsupervised. But apparently Beca talked her way into it, wearing the headphones just-so to sit on one ear and off the other. Chloe watched her from the floor as she eyed the equipment, familiarizing herself.

Chloe recognized the look on her face, the one she got when her fingers were about to manipulate music. She saw her reach into the pocket of her skirt and pull out what she assumed was a USB stick and pop it into the MacBook. Chloe watched her stare at the screen, and press buttons, and pick up the microphone.

"Happy Halloween, you beautiful people!" she shouted into the mic over the music. "Who's having a good time tonight?"

The dance floor erupted in cheers, Chloe in the middle of it, silent and smiling up at Beca who was never more at home than she was in front of that equipment.

"DJ Squick is giving me the booth for a hot second, so listen up! My name is Beca Mitchell and I'm producing Katy Perry's new record. Anyone heard of her?"

More cheers, and Chloe wondered what she was up to.

The music faded out as Beca's wrist rotated, and Chloe heard the bass line of the song she watched Beca and Katy work on recently start thumping. "I'm gonna play her new track for you, because you're all fucking amazing! This is called 'This Girl Says' and it drops February 9th! So don't you fuckers dare record this because no one has heard this yet!"

Dozens of smartphones appeared, videoing, recording. Beca smiling, knowing exactly what she was doing - Beca, the girl who was dragged kicking and screaming into the world of social media by Chloe who insistedshe have a Facebook profile was staging a viral, guerilla marketing event.

Beca set the mic down, fixed her headphones to sit properly, and used both hands, mixing the opening of her song with the outro of the previous song until it was only hers playing, the intro repeating until Chloe watched Beca's wrist flick and the bass dropped. A turn with her other hand and the song started properly. It was a little different than what Chloe had heard in the studio. A remix. Beca's remix.

Cheers rose again as the dance floor churned to the beat. Beca's beat. And Chloe watched them as she turned slowly in place, taking it in. Hundreds of people, dancing to Beca's creation as she watched from the booth, hands on her hips, sometimes tapping a key on the computer or fiddling with something on the turntable. Smiling, a faint, faint smile that was almost not a smile at all, but Chloe saw it.

She felt as she did that night in the empty pool at their first riff-off. Watching Beca take over, be confident in doing what she does best. She was glowing. She was watching Chloe, she realized, her smile growing. Chloe felt her toes wiggle, tapping in her boots to the beat. Her feet itched, wanting to move. She wanted to just stand and watch and absorb, but she couldn't. It was too infectious. Of course it was; Beca created it and Beca was a genius. She was bouncing. Beca was grinning. And then Chloe was jumping, arms over her head, laughing, and singing along to the few lyrics she remembered, and swinging Beca's orange sweater over her head like a helicopter - until it caught someone's hand and was ripped from her fingers, consumed by the dance floor, just as she was.

When it was over, Beca didn't say anything. She didn't address the crowd or take further credit. She mixed her track out, ejected the USB stick, handed the headphones back to DJ Squick who gave her one of those handshakes that pulled each other into a chest bump kind of thing, and Beca hopped down the steps to run back to Chloe, who was ready for her with open arms. The impact nearly flattened her, but the dance floor was too crowded to let that happen, and the people she fell into pushed her back onto her feet.

"Holy shit, dude!" Beca screamed in her ear. Chloe would have winced but it had grown so loud in the club over the course of the night, she knew she was suffering short-term hearing damage.

Chloe held her tight; Beca seemed to be vibrating head to toe, energy pouring off her in waves. When she pulled back, tears were rolling down her cheeks, and Chloe couldn't be certain the same wasn't happening on her own face. And Chloe knew Beca's tears weren't drunk tears. They were real, experiencing the euphoria of hearing her creation blast in a club and seeing people dance to it. They were tears of dreams coming true, and Chloe hadn't emotionally prepared herself for this; Beca playing the song had been a surprise. She had planned to share this moment the first time they heard the song on the radio, but the moment was happening now and Chloe wasn't ready to catch Beca in the way she would have preferred.

But she did her best, yelling how fucking amazing it was and how fucking proud of her she is and how much she fucking loves her and how she can't fucking believe this is real but she always fucking knew Beca could do it, because yeah, this moment calls for that word's repeated use.

And then someone else slammed into them like Beca had collided with Chloe. Somehow, through the sea of writhing bodies, Aubrey had found them and was plastered to Beca's back in a hug so massive Chloe was caught up in it, too, and there was more yelling and what probably qualified as screaming, and jumping until they finally broke apart, a mess of laughter and running mascara. They followed Beca out of the club as she put her phone to her ear, too far away for Chloe to make out what she was saying, ears muffled once they stepped into the cool, clear night.

It was only then that Chloe noticed that there were four of them waiting on the sidewalk for the car Beca was probably summoning. Aubrey's fellow policeman was stuck to her side, hand roaming a little obviously up and down her back, saying something in her ear as she giggled.

There was part of her that couldn't believe Aubrey was seriously bringing a guy home from the club with her - into her home. But she knew Aubrey, and knew she knew what she was doing, and it wasn't like Chloe had never brought someone home with her from a club. But because she was choosy, those selections left in the morning - or sometimes before sunrise - not getting quite everything they hoped for.

So with a look between them that simply acknowledged what was happening, the four of them climbed into the back of the black Escalade, Chloe and Beca taking the middle row captain's chairs, surrendering the rear bench to the law enforcement imposters pawing at each other.

Chloe wondered if she should say something to Beca. What had happened was epic. It was beyond epic. It was the first page of a new chapter in Beca's - in both of their lives. But Beca was quiet in her seat, eyes closed, a peaceful smile on her lips, and Chloe bit her tongue. And tried hard to ignore the wet smacking sounds of a heavy make-out session happening behind her.

"Hey, keep it in your pants," Beca barked suddenly, startling Chloe as she'd started to drift to sleep, head resting against the cool window of the vehicle. She chuckled, heart racing a little at the sudden outburst as she kept her eyes on Beca. She didn't dare look to see what was going on in the back seat; the movement reflected in the window each time they passed under a streetlight was enough insight.

"I was in that bathroom, too. Turnabout's fair play," Aubrey said before she was once again otherwise occupied.

Chloe felt her face warm at the reminder.

When they got home, she had to smack her hand repeatedly against the window of the SUV, right behind Aubrey's head, to get their attention even though they had stopped, the dome light was on, and conversations were had with the driver. It was with an apology that Aubrey climbed out, face flushed and red lipstick nonexistent. Much of it was on her partner who followed a moment later.

Chloe unlocked the apartment and only turned on enough lights for everyone to see where they were going - Beca and Chloe to the stairs and Aubrey and her man to...well, she assumed the couch.

"I wasn't joking," Beca said from the kitchen, pouring two huge glasses of water to leave on the coffee table as Chloe climbed the stairs. "Don't break the fucking table. I really like it. And maybe put a blanket down first."

Chloe had anticipated coming home to a ravenous, wall-pinning, neck-biting, clothes-ripping experience after their haphazard rendezvous in the club bathroom and all the subsequent kissing and grinding and adrenaline.

But as she washed her face at the sink and watched Beca sit down on the toilet, already undressed, waving her hand at Chloe when she pointed at the door questioning if she should give her privacy, she realized how overwhelmingly tired she was. Beca seemed to be on the exact same page, yawning, eyes closed, barely opening them to shuffle to the sink and bump Chloe out of the way with her naked hip. Which was fine, since Chloe had moved on to brushing her teeth and didn't need the sink at the moment anyway. And the way Beca leaned against her, as though she physically could not support herself, as she brushed her own teeth was really kind of adorable.

So she wasn't at all surprised that they crawled into bed, spooned loosely, and almost instantly fell asleep.

But she couldn't ignore it.

It was insistent, the thumping.

"Jesus Christ," Beca said with an exhale. "Are we going to have to listen to this all night?" There was a screech of wood against wood and Chloe felt Beca tense. "I swear to God if they're on the table…"

Chloe laughed into Beca's hair, pulling her a little closer and trailing her fingers down into the hollow of her hip. "We could give them a run for their money." It was a half-hearted attempt at flirting, and she really hoped Beca would turn her down; she was just so, so tired, but if she bit, she would muster the energy from somewhere.

Beca was quiet a moment, and then, "Babe, I seriously want to, but I don't think I can lift my own head right now."

She slid her hand down and patted Beca's rear end, earning a weak chuckle from the brunette. "Maybe we can wake them up nice and early instead."

Beca sniffed and settled further into her pillow. "I swear to God, you better not wake me up for sex."

Chloe gasped, playfully indignant. "Hell just froze over."

"As long as it's not before noon."

They were up before noon, but not by either girl's volition. They'd forgotten to close the curtains before they went to bed, and the morning light poured in, blinding them painfully in bed.

"Close them," Beca said, voice muffled by the pillow over her face. She slapped blindly in Chloe's direction, connecting once or twice with her face and chest until Chloe gave in and rolled out of bed. "Please."

She regretted it instantly, for as soon as she stood up, her head seemed to want to split in two and her stomach was raring to turn inside out. She sat back down, holding both and clenching her jaw.

"Chlo."

Chloe forced a hummed "uh-uh" as she waited for her stomach to stop churning. She didn't remember how much she had to drink the night before. She knew they were drinking before they left, and more than one guy had bought them a round. Usually she was more responsible, downing at least a liter of water before going to bed to ward off the hangover, but she was too tired and barely had a swallow of water since rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth.

And she was hardcore regretting it.

She tried standing again, slowly this time, hoping her stomach wouldn't revolt. She managed to get to the window and pull the curtains, but she had to put in a little extra effort to get the curtain to move, and it was more than it could take, and sent her running to the bathroom.

Beca appeared in the doorway as she flushed the toilet. She was holding her head, too, but didn't seem green in the face. "You okay?" she asked.

She pulled herself up from her knees, palms pressed into the counter as she leaned into it, head down. "Ugh. I haven't puked after drinking since I turned twenty-one." She opened the faucet and leaned down, rinsing her mouth before reaching for her toothbrush. She did feel better, though.

"I nominate you to be the one to go downstairs," Beca said, pulling on a T-shirt. "If I see...body parts...or my table busted, I'll be the next one puking."

Chloe accepted her nomination and worked her way into yoga pants and a tank, moving slowly to not give her morning sprint to the bathroom a sequel. As she descended the stairs, she was met with the quiet sounds of morning news and the scent of coffee which made her stomach rumble in a good way.

"Well good morning, sunshine." Aubrey was freshly showered and dressed, on the couch with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. "I reloaded the Keurig."

"Mmm," Chloe said, having to squint at the brightness of the main floor; literally every blind and curtain was open, natural light pouring in. She pressed the brew button on the machine and leaned against the island, rubbing her temples. When it was finished, she added a splash of milk and her usual two packets of Splenda and shuffled to the living room to ease into the chair. She would have taken the couch, but the chair faced away from the bay window and was thus less painful. "Where's your guy?" she asked, blowing over the rim of her mug to expedite its drinkability.

"He left a few hours ago."

"Gonna talk to him him again?"

Aubrey pushed around her Frosted Flakes and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind. But I'm leaving tonight anyway."

"You give him your number?"

Aubrey smiled, and Chloe knew that look. It wasn't Aubrey's "pump and dump" face - her definition was very different than Fat Amy's. She really liked the guy.

"Maybe you'll end up getting married and you can move out here to LA, too!" Chloe said, already excited by the possibility.

"Oh my God, I just met him! I don't even know his last name."

"I know you know his first name," Beca said, winding her way down the stairs. "Heard you screaming it half the night."

"Beca!" Aubrey snapped, flustered. Chloe laughed and the intensified pounding in her head made her regret it.

Beca ignored the outburst and took her turn at the coffee maker. "What time does your flight leave?"

"4:30."

Beca took a less direct route to the living room, aiming for the front door and stopping short. "Who the hell ate all the Kit Kats?"

Chloe looked over to watch her dig through what remained in the trick-or-treat candy bowl, frowning. She couldn't handle the thought of consuming chocolate at the moment, but she really hoped the peanut butter cups weren't gone, too.

"Oops."

"Seriously?"

"We were hungry!" Aubrey said, defending herself.

"Yeah well, you sure as hell worked up an appetite."

"Oh my - you know what? No. No more of this teasing about sex. We are all adults here. You don't see me giving you a hard time about...about what was happening in the bathroom at the club. I could go on and on and make all kinds of innuendos, but I'm not. Because I'm a grown up and I respect your relationship and your choices."

Beca seemed caught off guard by Aubrey's reaction, and then she relaxed. "A 'grown up'? Really, Posen?" She took a seat on the couch next to the blonde, and Chloe was just thankful the tête-à-tête was shifting topics.

Some time later, while Chloe was half-asleep, she overheard the other women talking about the song Beca shared last night, and it yanked Chloe back to consciousness with a gasp. "YouTube! We need to check YouTube!"

She regretted moving so quickly as she leaned forward and grabbed her laptop, running searches in two separate tabs - one for Beca's song and one for their "Thriller" routine. It took a minute to find their routine - they were not the only group in a club to do that last night, apparently - but there were dozens and dozens of recent uploads labeled with various versions of "Katy Perry - This Girl Says." She scrolled until she found one uploaded by the actual club, assuming it would be the best. Opting to throw the video onto the TV instead, she activated their Chromecast, made the player full screen, turned up the volume on the TV, and pressed play. She plopped down on the floor in front of Beca, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her legs to hang over her shoulders, feet resting against her chest.

And there it was.

Video shot from above the dance floor, zooming in on Beca shouting into the mic, which earned a self-conscious comment from her, and then the song burst forth. She felt tears welling again and she wrapped her hands around Beca's feet, jostling them to the beat.

"You know, Beca," Aubrey started while the song played. "We have our differences and that will never change, but I hope you know how happy for you I am. And how grateful I am that you came into our lives. You really did make us better."

That pulled the sob out of Chloe's throat.

"Dude, you're going to cry at my sentimental moment?" Beca chided, kicking her heel into Chloe's boob.

"Sorry," Chloe choked out, covering her hand with her mouth.

"I appreciate that, Aubrey, Really. And, uh...I'm sorry about all the jokes this morning. I'm glad you had a good time."

Chloe squeezed Beca's feet, trying not to cry. She was hyperemotional, dehydrated, hungover, hungry, and her best friends were working to bury the hatchet even deeper than they had buried it when they won their first national title together.

"I'm really happy you were able to come out here this week." Chloe merged Beca's Corvette onto the 405, heading south to the airport.

Aubrey rolled up her window against the wind. "Me, too. I had a lot of fun. It was really nice getting to see your new life."

Chloe smiled.

"You seem so happy now. And I mean deeply, soulfully happy."

"I really am. I really am."

Aubrey wanted to say something else; Chloe could hear it in the way she took a breath and held it. She gripped the steering wheel and waited for the shoe to drop.

"Are you...thinking about getting married anytime soon?"

Chloe's mouth fell open; that wasn't the type of statement or question she was expecting from Aubrey. "We...we've only been together like five months."

"But it's really more like four years and five months, Chloe."

"Oh my gosh, why are you talking to me about this right now? I can't even figure out how to ask her -"

Aubrey's gasp silenced her. "So you are thinking about asking her!"

"What? No - no!" She wasn't. Not really. Only sometimes. Like when Beca was being so sweet with her students, and when she defended Chloe to Schmidt and Jimmy, and when she talked about wanting to pick out a new home with her. And an average of once per week since the day they met.

"Chloe."

"Bree, don't make me think about this today."

"Okay, okay," Aubrey said, tone light. "I was just curious where you were at or if you knew what you wanted."

"Let's start with the simple things first, maybe. I want my own car so I don't have to take the bus or borrow Beca's. I want the Louboutin Kristali laser-cut patent leather pumps I saw in the window of Saks last week. I want my performing arts school to actually have the things it needs to teach the performing arts. I want a new little black dress. I haven't bought a new dress since Atlanta. Bree, my closet is becoming a sea of khaki pants and light blue polos."

Aubrey chuckled at that. "The glamorous life of a teacher."

"So glamorous."

They drove in relative silence for a bit, Chloe lost in her thoughts. Aubrey's line of questioning had driven a bit of a wedge into them. Every thought she had had to detour around it. She tried to change the topic.

"Do you think you can come back in March? There's going to be a big release party for Katy's album, and I'll be on Spring Break. It'd be nice if you could come out again."

"Oh…Chloe, I don't know. March and April is my busiest time of year, aside from summer. Since all you teachers are on Break, a lot of schools send them to me for team building."

"Oh, well I guess that makes sense."

"I will see if I can make it work, though. I've been grooming someone to be able to cover for me when needed - not that I could be replaced - and maybe she'll be able to handle a few days on her own by then."

Chloe exited into the airport's departures ramp trying not to cry for the third time in twenty-four hours. "We need to Skype more, okay?" she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"We will. I promise."

"Can we make it a thing? Like every Wednesday night?"

"Okay. Every Wednesday." Aubrey's voice was getting thick with emotion, too, and it wasn't helping Chloe stave off her tears.

She stopped at the curb near Aubrey's airline and popped the trunk, lifting her friend's suitcase out for her. "I really miss you, Bree," she said, finally cracking and letting the tears fall. She got pulled into a hug and she held onto her tightly.

"I miss you, too. My life isn't the same without you brightening every room I walk into with that smile of yours."

"Crest Whitestrips." She felt Aubrey's silent laugh.

"I love you, Chloe. I'm always here for you. For anything."

Chloe nodded.

"And I swear, when you do start thinking about proposing, you better tell me."

Chloe squeezed her hard and pulled back. "You need to stop."

"Like my father always said -"

"No. No, I don't want to know."

"- if you like it, then you better put a ring on it."

A bark of laughter escaped Chloe, and she pushed the tears off her cheeks. "Good ol' Beyonce Posen."

"I mean it, Chloe. She's good for you and you're good for her. Don't let her slip away when her life explodes with this music thing."

"Okay, stop pressuring me and get on your plane." She pulled Aubrey into another hug until she knew she needed to let her go.

Chloe was a nervous wreck on the drive home. Aubrey had filled her brain with thoughts and worries and possibilities. Was she ready to get married? Was Beca? Was she going to lose Beca when the crazy publicity side of her career happened? Why was Aubrey planting these seeds in her head?

She was grateful that Beca wasn't home when she returned, having received a text that she was running to the studio and would probably be home late because, if all went as planned, she would be wrapping vocals for the album that night. Her absence allowed her to push those yammering thoughts away and focus on her lesson plans for the week.

She woke when Beca returned after midnight and curled into her, holding tight so she couldn't get away from her.

A/N: Aaaaand you can breathe easy once and for all as Aubrey Posen departs. ;) Gotta admit, it was fun toying with your emotions, though...