A/N: Okay, this has only Beca and Jesse in it but it's certainly no Jeca-fiction. I'm also being harsh on Jesse again, not that this is a new thing with me. I just don't like him very much, so, if you've got sensibilities invested in the guy - this is not the story for you.


"No, Jesse! Just no, okay?" Beca left the bedroom in an angry stride, her boyfriend Jesse hot on her heels.

"Why not? It's not like you've never worn it before," he said, holding the reason of their discussion in his hand.

"That was for a performance, Jesse. I'm not gonna wear it so put it back," she told him plainly. She stood infront of the hall mirror putting her earrings in.

"Exactly, you've been wearing it for a performance, infront of hundreds of people, in public. So you can wear it tonight," he reasoned in his 'I'm the mature one'-voice that she hated so much.

"It's not about wearing that ridiculous thing in public, Jesse, it's about… it's a prop for a performance, not even a piece of clothing. For a performance you dress up as someone other than yourself. When I wore this I tried to be one of the Bellas - the old Bellas - and as Aubrey put it: I wasn't one of them, so…"

Jesse looked at Beca, raising both eyebrows and shaking his head a little.

"It's only a skirt, Beca," he told her.

"You don't get it, I'm not gonna wear it tonight of all nights, so, please, put it back," she gave back.

"But why put it back if you're never gonna wear it anyways? I could just throw it out," he suggested and looked at her challengingly.

"You're not throwing it out. First of all, it's not your, it's mine. And second, it holds memories. And now put it back," she asked him again and her voice was far from relaxed and easy. She didn't know why he was making such a big deal of her wearing pants to her first meeting with his parents. They were dress pants, too, not cheap and they looked good on her. The skirt was old and pretty standard flight attendant business wear… why Jesse would all of a sudden insist on her wearing the damn thing was a mystery. Well, maybe not too great a mystery… he was a man, he liked her in skirts, showing off her legs. And then there was the fact that he was slightly conservative and, well, that was usually not a characteristic that picked itself out of thin air. Beca guessed that his parents would probably be a little conservative, too. Still, not enough reason to wear a skirt, especially not that one.

Jesse had huffed indignantly and walked back into their bedroom. She heard him open drawers now - not a good sign. She looked at herself in the mirror once more and walked back into the bedroom. And, indeed, he was looking through her clothes not his own.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just looking for something," he answered evasively.

"I hope you're not looking for anymore of my flight attendant outfit because I'm not going to wear any of it," she warned. He only threw her a slightly annoyed look but kept on searching. "What are you looking for?"

"That sweater I've got you for your birthday. It would look great with those pants," he said and she closed her eyes for a moment, silently counting to three.

"It's not in there," she said.

He stopped his search.

"Where is it?" he asked.

"I lent it to a friend," she told him and could see the storm that was starting to brew in his expressive eyebrows.

"You lent it to a friend," he repeated. "Beca, that is a cashmere sweater. It was… pretty expensive."

"I know that, Jesse. It's just… when have you ever seen me wear teal?"

"What?"

"It's the color, Jesse. Teal is just not my color and anyway I never had an opportunity to wear it, so I lent it to Jessica. She looks good in teal," she explained and saw his eyebrows pull together.

"It was a present… from me," he slowly explained as if to a child who couldn't fathom the value of things.

"I know and I will get it back. Just not tonight," she told him and he closed the drawers he had opened. Then he sat down on the bed, shaking his head - in anger, probably, and not understanding her. He did that often - shaking his head and not understanding her. And he wasn't the only one, she did it, too.

"So, you're going to wear that… blouse?" he asked her after awhile, looking at the dark purple garment in question.

"It's not a blouse, it's a shirt, Jesse, and you know that." He knew and he resented the fact, she could see it. "Jesse, what is this about?" She asked him since he didn't say anything else. He looked at her for a moment, contemplating his options in answering her question.

"You're going to meet my parents tonight. I want you to get along with them. I want them to like you," he explained.

"And they won't if I'm wearing pants and a shirt?" she asked openly.

Jesse pushed his jaw forward like he so often did when he thought he had to be indignant, manly. He had strong sensibilities about his role in their relationship, she knew that, and she thought it was ridiculous - she had thought it endearing in the past.

"I just don't want them to think we're one of those couples who dress alike," he said.

"We're not dressing alike, Jesse. You're wearing a suit, with a tie and a jacket. I'm wearing dress pants and a shirt… we're not dressing alike! We're dressing like us, you like yourself, and me like myself. Or would you rather I dress like some chick form one of your romcoms, all frilly and cute? I'm not that girl, Jesse, and you know it. If you want some girly-girl why don't you call Stacie and have her act as me? You know, that's actually an excellent idea! Because I'm so over wanting to go to this… and obviously you don't want your parents to meet me, so…" Beca once again left the bedroom in long, angry strides. She couldn't believe how ridiculous Jesse was acting. She could understand him being nervous - she had been, too, when she had introduced Jesse to her mom - but she never would have thought that he was ashamed of her, that he would want her to act as someone she was not.

"Beca, wait. I… I didn't mean that and you know it." He followed her out of the bedroom again and touched her arm to stop her. She turned.

"You're ashamed of me," she accused him and saw him shake his head.

"That's not true, baby, I love you. You're amazing," he told her.

"But you think your parents will find me… what? Too boyish, odd, too 'alternative'?" He didn't answer right away and she had her answer. "Well, that's nice."

That was the moment their door bell rang, anouncing the taxi that was supposed to take them to the fancy restaurant where they were supposed to meet the Swansons.

"I'm sorry, Beca, can we just… get this dinner behind us? I really want you to meet my parents."

"Do you want them to meet me, too?" she asked. "Or do you want me to… dress and act like someone I'm not?"

"I want them to meet you, the real Beca, the only Beca. You," he told her but somehow she didn't quite believe him. And somehow it didn't feel as devastating as she felt it should have. They had gone through many stages during their relationship - getting to know each other, learning the other person, physically and mentally, living together… and it had brought them here - to a place where Beca wasn't even sure if she liked Jesse at all.