Andiclauds: You didn't really miss anything. It was mentioned in part one that Aubrey has kids in the future and Howie is in the picture somewhere, but that's about it.
Pixie1913: I guess you'll find out soon enough.
SunDanceQT: 17 days. They left for Beca's wedding September 18, 2016 and it is now October 5.
Iambjo12: Great question. He and Conrad were the most difficult to put faces to, but I really sat down and thought about it and came to a final decision. You can read it below.
A/N: Since a few people have asked me what several different characters look like, here is my list so far:
Julia - Elizabeth Mitchell
Noah - Duane Henry (just slightly older)
Brian - Jack Falahee
Conrad - Chester Lockhart
Naveen (about to make an appearance in the next chapter) - Naveen Andrews
Dysrhythmia
You won't even have to hold me,
Or look into my eyes.
You can tell me that you love me,
Through your keyboard and wires.
No, you won't have to touch me,
Or even take my hand.
Just slide your little mouse around,
Until you see it land.
- Alan Jackson
"Aubrey!" Beca yells from down below.
Aubrey ignores her in favor of staring at the folder with her name on it. It's probably a folder full of pictures. It would be just like Chloe to have a folder full of candid photos she took when Aubrey wasn't looking. She does have some stalkerish tendencies like that. Fortunately, they become endearing after getting to know her.
"Aubrey!"
If only there was something on this balcony to throw. Can't Beca see she's busy? She really shouldn't be snooping around on Chloe's laptop. But it's labeled with her name. She has the right to know what it contains if it has something to do with her. God, if it contains naked pictures or pictures of her sleeping though, Aubrey's going to smash her whole damn laptop – with a hammer, and then she's going to run over it with her car...twice. She sucks in a breath and holds it as she clicks the mouse.
It's full of…mp4 files? – what must be hundreds of them dating all the way back to 2009. What? It's impossible to tell what they contain without clicking on one. They're all basic thumbnails labeled with random letters and numbers. They begin in mid-September, around the time of they auditioned for the Bellas, with a file labeled 'T1TISY', and end September 15th, 2016, three days before leaving for Beca's wedding, with a file labeled 'WYMM'. Eight years of mp4 files? "What the hell is this, Chloe?"
"Earth to Aubrey Posen!"
Aubrey is about to drop a fucking house plant on Beca's head. It's too bad she likes her plants. "What, Beca?!"
"This is your cat!" Beca calls back, "You should be down here helping!"
Aubrey stands up and peers down over the banister. Catsy is sitting on top of somebody's truck. Great. Maybe they'll drive off with him and give him the loving home that Chloe wants for him.
"Are you coming down?!" Beca asks.
"No!" Aubrey frowns as Beca walks away from Catsy, toward the parking garage. "What are you doing?!"
"I know what your car looks like! And I know your spot is near the entrance!"
"So?!" What's she going to do? Steal her car? Hopefully she uses it to drive very far away. Aubrey sits back down and is about to click on the first file when her car alarm starts going off. "Beca!" She snaps the laptop shut and carries it inside, tossing it onto the couch, before grabbing her keys and rushing back out onto the deck. Her alarm won't turn off from there. Shit. She groans loudly enough that the entire apartment complex probably hears her (if they can hear anything over her blaring alarm), and drags her aching body all the way down to the ground floor.
"What the hell?!" she snaps, storming past her on her way into the garage. A few people stare at her, annoyed, as she silences the alarm. "Why are you all looking at me like I'm the one who set it off?" No one has an answer to that. "Like I don't have to listen to any of you day and night from inside my apartment," she accuses and marches back out.
"Now that you're here," Beca says, "He won't come down."
Aubrey looks at Julia.
"I couldn't just grab her," Julia says.
"You would have grabbed me," Aubrey replies.
"You think so?"
No. Aubrey can't wait to be able to cross her arms again. "What do you want me to do about it?" she asks Beca.
"It's alright, you guys," Conrad chimes in. He's sitting on the ground, wearing a cat ear headband. "I think we're bonding. Meow."
"You were definitely not wearing that a second ago," Beca says.
"One has to come prepared for anything. I need to stop talking human so he learns to trust me. Excuse me. Meow."
"This is your friend," Beca reminds her in a whisper.
"He's your friend now. I told you: no returns or exchanges."
"Maybe we can find out who owns the truck and they can climb up there and get him down," Julia suggests.
"There's like a hundred people who live in this building," Aubrey says, "It's not even parked in the garage. They might not even live here."
"Have you seen them parked here before?" Beca asks.
"I don't know, Beca. What do I look like - the parking police?"
"I think I would notice if there was a giant purple pickup truck parked outside my building," Beca replies.
"I live in New York," Aubrey points out, "The only way I differentiate between cars that aren't my own is taxi and not a taxi."
"Girls, this is not helping," Julia interrupts them.
"Meow."
Catsy stares at the whole lot of them like he's watching a sitcom show. His tail lazily flops back and forth, and every so often, he lifts his head and looks at someone new in utter fascination.
"Fine." Aubrey waves Beca off. "I have an idea."
"Great. I can't wait to see it."
Aubrey shoots her a glare as she goes to rustle through some bushes outside the apartment building. "You asked for my help."
"Why can't you guys just be nice to each other and get along?" Julia asks and sits down on the curb, "You must love each other a little bit." She nods at the look they both give her. "Maybe love is a big word, but you don't always have to act like you hate each other."
Aubrey kicks the bush then turns to face Catsy. "Where is your stash? It was here. You moved it."
"What – is he a drug dealer now?" Beca asks.
"This is New York," Conrad says, "I once chased a pigeon carrying a bag of weed for five blocks."
"Did you get it?" Beca asks.
"No. Pigeons fly, Beca. He was high as a kite in more ways than one."
Beca snorts.
Aha! Aubrey snatches a glittery red bouncy ball out of one of the bushes. "You missed one." She turns around and holds it up.
That gets Catsy's attention. He sits up straight and eyes the ball, his tail swishing back and forth in excitement.
Aubrey bounces it in the air once then catches it in her hand to lure him down from on top of the truck, then she rolls it into the waiting cat carrier. That stupid cat follows it right inside, allowing Conrad to lock him in. And caught. He turns to look at her with sad, 'what are you doing to me' eyes, and she quickly looks away. "Now what?"
"I already called and made him a vet appointment for tomorrow," Conrad says, "And I bought flea shampoo."
"Why didn't you call a groomer?" Aubrey asks.
"Because grooming is the perfect way to bond," Conrad answers, "And you two seem like you need a moment to bond."
"How am I supposed to wash him? I only have one working hand."
"You also have Beca!" Conrad claps his hands together.
"I don't remember volunteering for any of this," Beca replies.
"I think you're being voluntold," Julia says and stands up, "Aubrey, are you ready to get your stuff?"
No. Aubrey clenches her jaw as she turns to look at the building.
"We can come back tomorrow. You know it's not forever." Julia offers her a smile. "Let's get your new cat off the streets."
"That's not my cat. It's Chloe's." Aubrey follows her back inside to the elevator.
Julia slows down to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer. "You know, I think you're going to learn to love him once we pick all those fleas off."
Aubrey gives her a disgusted look.
"It's not his fault he probably has fleas. I bet it's hard being a stray cat in New York, especially with all the traffic and busy people. We don't know his story. Maybe he was born outside. Or maybe he was abandoned. Or maybe he had a great family and something happened. There's a whole world of people out here though, and no one has bothered to take him in."
"You're pulling that guilt string really hard," Aubrey states.
"Is it working?"
Yes. "No."
"Not even a little bit?"
Aubrey goes back in through her front door to gather up her luggage.
"Now I know that's not yours," Julia says as Aubrey picks up Chloe's laptop and goes to put it in her bag, "I know this because I'm the one who bought it."
Aubrey stuffs it in her bag anyway. She can't tell her what and what not to use in her own home no matter who purchased it.
"Do you think if you're using Chloe's, that maybe Beca might like to borrow yours?"
Aubrey looks at her.
"She has nothing," Julia points out, "Maybe you should pack her a bag."
xxxxx
Aubrey finds a pair of headphones, her least favorite of Chloe's clothes (meaning Beca will probably like them), and she packs those along with her laptop and charger. That's all she can find. It's not exactly as if she and Beca share a lot of similar interests outside of music – and the thought of going through Chloe's room, well, she just…she pushes the thought from her mind. When she gets back outside, she shoves the bag into Beca's arms without a word about it.
"Am I your designated bag carrier now too?" Beca asks.
"Bunny, are you forgetting something?" Julia asks, carrying the rest of her stuff toward the car for her.
Aubrey just looks at her.
"Your cat?"
Right. That thing. "It's too heavy," she decides.
"Go pick it up," Julia commands softly, "Now, please."
Fine. Aubrey (carefully) snatches up the carrying crate then looks to see if Julia is happy with her.
"Thank you. I'll sit in the front so there's room for it in the back with you."
"Why can't Beca sit in the front?" Aubrey asks.
"Yeah, why can't Beca sit in the front?" Beca echoes.
Julia breathes a laugh. "Okay, Beca. The front is all yours."
"Shotgun!" Beca declares.
And then Aubrey sees her freeze up, her own body seizing up as well – all from one small word that used to mean nothing. How many little things that used to have no meaning at all are going to make it difficult to breathe now? She opens the car door and slides in the carrier, then sits down without closing it behind her. The breeze seems to be the only thing reminding her to pull air into her lungs.
Beca won't meet her eyes as she walks by. She opens the door, sits down, then closes it immediately behind her.
"Close your door, Babe," Julia directs as she gets in the car on the opposite side.
Aubrey does as she's told.
Catsy meows, and Julia finishes bucking her seatbelt then turns the front of the carrier to face her. "Hi," she coos at him, "You're okay."
Aubrey leans her head against the window and looks out as they drive away, watching her apartment building disappear.
"You are too," Julia says, reaching over to hold her hand and rub the pressure point meant to help with nausea again.
"It's hot in here," Beca complains in a mutter, prompting Conrad to turn on the air. She sighs and rests her head on the window too, angling her entire body to face that direction.
Aubrey sits up and leans forward, around the seat in a strained attempt to distract them both. "I put headphones in the bag for you."
Beca glances back at her.
"Don't break them. Or my laptop."
"You're letting me use your laptop?" Beca asks.
"Until you get a job and can buy your own." Aubrey settles back into her seat.
Beca exhales a sharp laugh through her nose. "Yeah, you're hilarious."
"You're a bit of a freeloader right now."
"Fuck you, Aubrey."
Aubrey smirks at the buildings passing by.
"You're a dick," Beca mumbles.
"In that case, I'll take my things back." Aubrey pulls her hand away and leans forward to grab her bag.
"You are a saint of incomparable scope that would make even Mother Teresa would jealous," Beca changes her mind and leans forward to cover the bag with her body, "You deserve a Nobel Peace prize."
"Why don't either of you have seatbelts on?" Julia asks.
Beca glances back at her with a tight smile. "Dude, if I die in a car crash right now, that's just cruel irony."
"Put your seatbelt on," Julia says, "Right now."
Aubrey stares smugly at the back of the seat as Beca sits up to do so.
"You too," Julia says, wiping the look right off her face.
"It hurts," Aubrey admits and starts picking at her cast.
"Your body is going to feel even more like it's been hit by a truck if we're hit by an actual truck and you're not wearing a seatbelt."
"If we're hit by a truck, I don't-" Aubrey stops talking at the look she receives. She nods and buckles herself in then pulls it looser around her stomach. It's a little easier to breathe now, although the word 'shotgun' still echoes in the back of her mind. And maybe it's related to hearing the word, or maybe it's not, but her shoulder has started to feel like it's burning again.
"What are you thinking about?" Julia asks.
Aubrey blinks then looks around. She shakes her head and tries to brush it off. "I forgot to take my plants inside."
xxxxx
"This is impossible," Beca says, "Cats aren't meant to be bathed."
"Then why do they sell cat shampoo?" Conrad asks.
"We can get this done," Julia says, running the water in the bath with her hand held under it to feel the temperature, "If two people hold him, someone can scrub him down and pick off the fleas. Aubrey only has one hand, so it looks like she'll be the one washing him."
Aubrey frowns. "You just said we only need three people, and currently there are four people standing in this bathroom. Wouldn't it make sense to have three people who can use both hands."
"You are not getting out of this," Beca says, "If I have to help, so do you."
"I'll get the towel and blow dryer!" Conrad sings.
Beca glares at his back.
"This feels good." Julia flicks water from her fingers into the tub. "I'll get him out of the carrier."
"Why couldn't you have just let Chloe bring him inside when she wanted to?" Beca asks, "She could have done this."
"You don't think we wouldn't still be helping?" Aubrey replies.
"You would be helping. I would be in LA."
"Not if you were visiting when she decided to bring him in."
"Are you two done?" Julia asks and pulls out the cat.
Aubrey and Beca share a look.
"Beca, come hold his back end and we'll put him in the tub."
"Why his back end?" Beca asks.
"Would you prefer the end with claws and teeth?" Julia asks.
"Back end it is."
Catsy, surprisingly, doesn't put up much of a fight when it comes to being put in the tub. He just sort of…stands there. Even as Aubrey pours a cup of water over him. Maybe he has brain dama- She stops mid-thought by shutting her mind off completely.
"Aubrey?" Julia nudges her.
Right. Aubrey pours more water over him. Focus. She squeezes some shampoo onto him then begins rubbing it in, giving him a look when he arches his back like he's here for a massage. Tiny black fleas begin to fall from his fur into the water and make their way down the drain. Those occasional small bug bites on Aubrey that Chloe told her were from 'baby mosquitos' were probably from fleas. Gross. She runs the flea comb through his fur once he's all lathered up. It's like picking out cat head lice; not that Aubrey has ever had lice or had to pick them out of someone else's hair. If Chloe ever came home from work with lice, Aubrey would probably move out for a month. (Okay, she would help her, but she would definitely be considering moving out.) "What if it has worms?"
"They'll deworm him at the vet," Julia answers, "Just worry about the fleas right now."
Aubrey shudders and rinses a few more from the comb.
"At least he's not one of those cats that would be thrashing to get out," Beca says.
"He sits outside in the pouring down rain all the time," Aubrey says.
Julia lets out a sad, "Awww."
"There are plenty of places he could hide, and he chooses not to." Aubrey sighs. "How many fleas can one cat have?"
"A lot," Julia answers, "Keep going."
Aubrey cringes as they crawl onto his face to keep from dying in the shampoo. She picks them off as quickly as possible, with growing concern they're going to crawl into his eyes or his ears – all while he seems to be enjoying himself. Maybe because no one besides Chloe has ever shown this much kindness to him before… She's seen the way people walk past him and kick him out of their way. Great, and now she's feeling sorry for him. There seems to be one flea for every day they've lived here and not taken him inside. "You're disgusting," she informs him half-heartedly.
"Get his belly then let's start rinsing off this soap."
Once he's completely scrubbed and combed down and Aubrey rinses him off, Julia wraps him up in a towel and lifts him up out of the bath. "I'll run the comb through him again while you blow dry him."
"Does this mean I'm done?" Beca asks.
"You're free," Julia replies.
Conrad looks at her. "Want to play Mario Cart?"
"Yes."
Aubrey watches them leave as she remains trapped with the cat.
"Thank you!" Julia calls as she pushes the door closed behind them using her foot. "Let's sit down on the floor."
Aubrey sits crisscross against the wall with the blow dryer.
"We have some privacy right now," Julia points out as she sits down across from her, "Maybe now while we're doing this is a good time for us to call my friend."
