Eleven months later...

Present day.

Mitchell Residence.

Decatur, GA.

Motherhood turns out to be a cinch...for the most part.

There are a few "blips" on their record they aren't proud of. Chloe and Beca can't help nor are they surprised to find out they have an "adventurous" baby to put it mildly.

Like way too adventurous.

It boggles their mind how he's able to climb on top of their refrigerator whenever they aren't looking. Or how their son tries his damnedest to leap out of his mother's arms into traffic, into a body of water, off a balcony. Yeah, they're never taking him up in a tall building ever again.

Logan's sole mission in life, it seems, is to give his mothers an anxiety attack. They've had to cover up every power outlet in their home since the infant is hell-bent on trying to lick one.

Beca's convinced somehow, through some twisted irony, she and Chloe ended up with the tiny human version of Rags the dog from Spin City.

She doesn't know why. Chloe is equally stumped. Logan, when he's not fussing, seems like a happy little baby boy. He lights up whenever Mommy or Mama enters the room like he's meeting them for the first time.

He wiggles whenever his moms sing to him. Song time is his favorite, and Beca suspects her son, the traitor, prefers Chloe's voice.

"We have a suicidal baby, Chlo!"

"Becs, calm down. Logan's an adventurous baby. He'll grow out of it." Chloe smiles her sweetest of smiles. Bringing her face down to meet her son, Chloe coos in baby talk. "Aren't you just the cutest little thing on the whole planet huh little man?", while helping her wife remove the feeding pillow. Beca lowers her shirt while the redhead takes their sated weary baby off to his crib.

Chloe sucks in air, "Uh oh! Eskimo kisses!" Beca watches her wife and son bump and rub their noses together before she lowers him into the crib. Logan pats Chloe's face with his soft chubby little hand. Both women fight to hold back the tears from a cuteness overload. Chloe covers their son with kisses to the forehead before finally lowering him down. Beca walks over, promptly tucking him in, "I love you so much," she whispers.

Moments like this erase any fears the women have. Warmth washes over them as they watch their little boy curl up and settle down. Logan's milk drunk smile combined with the soft rising and falling of his chest reminds Chloe and Beca this is all they truly need in life to be happy, to feel not only safe but secure.

"I'm worried babe," Beca murmurs around a kiss to her wife's lips. "Li'l fucker thinks he's Superman and can jump off anything."

"We have to make the best of things Bec. It's all we can do," Chloe says. They slide into the silk sheets of their comfy Tempur-pedic memory foam bed. "He's a happy baby. A happy little mischief-maker." Beca nods. She really doesn't know what she'd do without her wife, Chloe's infectious optimism and spirit ground her when she stumbles close to the abyss in her own mind.

Instinctively she rolls over, to the side facing their son. Logan is a few weeks shy of a year old and Beca can recall plain as day when her son's little idiosyncrasy kicked in, and the subsequent moments.

New York City,

4 months ago.

Right outside Central Park.

11:12 am

"Two please," Beca heard her wife ask. She was busy fiddling with her bag, the fucker wouldn't close, and it was driving the music producer up a fucking wall. Logan limited her dexterity, seeing as the infant was strapped to her chest, but Beca couldn't complain too much since her son was so damn cute babbling on and on about anything and everything. "No... I only want one with mustard and onions," Chloe told the hotdog vendor off in the distance.

Fuck it. Beca decided. It wasn't worth fixing right then. They were there to enjoy the only day they'll have together before Beca had to go back to work the next day and leave her wife and child cooped up in the big hotel they're put up in, and Beca really didn't want to waste another precious second.

It was a total fucking mystery to Beca why her client felt she needed Beca with her in New York City to kick off her club tour. Working the LA scene for a few years exposed her to the more superstitious facet of celebrity culture. Relocating to Atlanta, she thought artists would be a little saner, yet here they were. At least it was a free vacation to the Big Apple.

It was Chloe and Beca's first vacation since the birth of their son. A change of scenery was just what their little family needed. Beca was still a little miffed that Chloe fought her on taking Logan to the Central Park Zoo, but Chloe was right. Some of the animals might overwhelm or, at the worst, scare their baby, so it was for the best - for now.

Beca hadn't given up on her quest to see if the love of red pandas runs in the family just yet. Worst case scenario, she'll play panda videos for her son. (Don't judge her.)

Chloe mumbled a curse under her breath, something about never being able to find the right change, as she dug through her purse to pay for the food. Beca would have loved to watch her wife get frustrated, but the wiggling child strapped to her chest pulled her attention away.

"What's up, little dude?" she asked her infant son. Logan was clearly distracted; chubby hands making a grabbing motion. So, Beca turned around to see just what the heck had her son so worked up. She'd never seen her boy so excited. He was flopping around like he was trying to dance. Beca saw a bus heading down the block. That wasn't so bad. Her munchkin was so eager to discover the world around him.

"Someone's excited," Chloe said, as she joined back up with her family - only she was half paying attention since trying to stuff the rest of the food without ripping the aluminum foil was proving to be more difficult of a task than expected.

"I'll say," Beca smiled. "He really likes that bus."

"So, let's bring him by the street for a closer look, babe."

"You like that Logan? You want to see the magic bus, little man?" Beca asked her son in her baby talk voice. Both mothers walked over to the edge of the sidewalk. It was adorable how pumped up their son was. Beca couldn't help but smile at just how pure a child's mind could be. Simple mundane things they adults dismiss or take for granted were but an endless source of joy for the tiny humans. How could she not find his wonderment cute as she unbuckled him so he was freely dangling from her arms in front of her chest?

"Know what buses are for, buddy?" Beca asked, not expecting him to answer. She wished Chloe would stop messing around with that damn bag because their little boy apparently won the baby lottery and had to bounce up and down as the bus rolled closer and closer to the little family. They were standing on the edge of the sidewalk as close as they could without stepping out into traffic. "See, kiddo, buses carry-" Beca felt a pressure against her chest followed by the trailing of a foot sliding out. Her grip on her child was failing.

"Shit! Chloe!" Beca screamed.

Chloe's eyes widened in horror. Dropping the bag, she lunged for her child that was a half-second away from slipping out of Beca's embrace. "Logan! No, baby!"

"Oh my god. Grab him, Chlo!"

"Oh, fuck," she strained trying to subdue him.

"What the fuck, Beca?!" Chloe yelled at her wife once she managed to secure their son. "You have to hold onto him!"

"He planted his foot against my chest. I think he was trying to jump or something."

"He's a baby, Beca. Why would he want to jump?" Chloe yelled.

"I don't know. Stop yelling at me."

"You came this close to fucking dropping him!"

"I know what I felt, Chloe," now Beca raised her voice.

Their yelling was doing all kinds of things to their son that he didn't like. Logan wailed.

Chloe sighed. She motioned for Beca to pass Logan to her, sensing her wife was on the verge of a panic attack. "Look are you sure it wasn't just an enthusiastic bounce?"

"Take him," the brunette wiped her eyes while she sniffled. "I need a minute."

"You're all right, little jellybean," Chloe whispered softly to their son hoping it would soothe him enough to stop crying. "Why you cryin'?" She asked in her baby talk voice. "Huh. Why you cryin'?" Her melodic voice seemed to calm him down enough. Logan's screaming stopped, only tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Beca found a light post to lean against while she sobbed. Beca's heart broke because they just fought in front of their child. She's pretty sure Chloe and she made him cry.

It's official, they're bad moms now.

Beca felt a soft touch on her shoulder. "Hey," Chloe said, softly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Beca turned to face her wife, sniffled then gave a compromising nod. "It was a heat of the moment thing," she wiped her tears. "I shouldn't have yelled at you either."

"Beca. You're my wife, my co-parent, and my partner; if you feel Logan was trying to jump then I believe you."

"You don't need to patronize me, Chloe." Beca sniffled once again, for what felt like the final time. Her agitation seemed to fade away.

"I'm not patronizing you Becs," Chloe said with complete honesty. "I trust you completely. Even when I don't trust myself."

Beca smiled in agreement. "C'mon let's do a family hug," she smiled at Chloe, who happily agreed.

The two women hugged each other with their son safely in between them. "See, little guy," Chloe whispered, "Mommy and Mama are okay. No more mean talking."

"That's right," Beca added. "We all love each other."

The three stayed in the soothing embrace for a minute until the mothers decided to call it a day. It was almost noon, but they'd had enough adventure today.

Not long after they got back to their hotel, Beca kept good on her mission and played videos of red pandas for her son. It turned out Logan really did take after his mommy in that regard.

3 months ago

Today happened to be one of their lazy days, well, Beca's anyway. Actually, a lot of days were work from home days since she renegotiated her contract a couple years ago. It afforded her the privilege of being home raising her child since she and Chloe were absolutely adamant they were not going the nanny route. Why have children if they personally couldn't be around? No way in hell were they missing all of their baby's milestones.

Chloe's schedule wasn't as flexible, seeing as she ran an animal hospital, but most nights she was able to be home around dinner time. She oversaw bath and bedtime story duty; a reprieve that felt like a godsend to Beca.

Beca spent most of the day with their son; Wednesday was her one day she went into the studio, Chloe deliberately chose that day along with the weekends to be off. So, any chance for Chloe to bond with her child was a welcome one.

Speaking of Chloe, the brunette wished she was home right about now.

"Dude!" She shouted at her son, "how the fu-dgesicles did you get up there?" The brunette literally set her son down in his highchair not five seconds ago, with her back turned the same amount of time, only to find her son miraculously standing...more like wobbling on the edge of the kitchen counter. Clapping his hands without a care in the world.

Beca panicked. "Logan, baby come to mommy."

Logan cooed, happily still clapping.

"Baby, please don't jump," Beca pleaded. "I'm going to come closer, okay bud? Let mommy get you," she crept up to the counter one brief pace after another until she was directly in front of her son. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!" The young woman cried as she held onto her little boy tighter than usual.

After a minute of scrambling to calm her nerves, the brunette set her son back in his highchair. This time, she triple-checked to make sure the buckles were fastened properly, and her infant was properly secured. Once the spontaneous inspection was completed, Beca walked over to the refrigerator hoping to retrieve one of his bottles.

The mothers found that one bottle a night saved them an extra hour or two of sleep. On a good night, they were blessed with five hours, as long as Beca pumped out breastmilk on the regular.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she opened up the stainless steel refrigerator.

"Logan!" Beca yelped. Her son was chilling out on one of the shelves of the refrigerator.

Get it together Beca. You're feeling a buzz from that second cough drop. That's what this is, she thought.

How could her son be relaxing inside the fridge? She literally just buckled him in not ten seconds ago.

Beca doesn't believe in the supernatural. Well, okay, there was that time she thought she saw Bigfoot walking out from the woods while she was driving home one night after a high school party, but that's not the sort of thing she'd admit to out loud. And she was only a little bit stoned. Although it might be time for a social media confessional now.

The Bellas should believe her. Hell, Lilly had that whole supernatural vibe going for seven years, before the devil released her. Amy, if half her stories are anything to go by, definitely fit the bill of someone who'd believe her.

Of course, if she admits to seeing Bigfoot on social media, then she has to deal with her publicist, then that asshole Joe Rogan will reach out to her to do his podcast where she'll have to answer stupid questions about Bigfoot or whether or not she's ever done DMT?

Beca quickly pulled her little man out from the refrigerator. Logan, unphased by what happened, cooed and babbled in his mother's arms without a care in the world. There's no way Chloe was going to believe this. It was like he fucking teleported.

"Umm little dude, what did you just do?" Beca asked.

Logan continued to stare at her, dumbfounded. "Right. You can't talk yet. Can you?" She shrugged. "Look at me interrogating a baby. This is nuts."

The child bobbed his head.

"Right," Beca said. She grabbed the bottle from the fridge then wiped the sheen of sweat from across her forehead. "Let's not tell Mama about this, okay?"

Logan flashed his mom a teary, slobbery pout, and Beca felt her heart drop to her feet. "I'm sorry, bud. I know you won't tell on me," she smiled at him. "Come on, let's get you fed."

Parenting was so fucking insane sometimes.

One month ago

"Beca. Aubrey is not a 'Karen'." Chloe rolled her eyes, unable to keep a straight face.

"Total Karen, dude," Beca smirked. "At least a level three."

Chloe arched her eyebrow. "Level three huh?"

"Yup. On a scale of one to five."

"What am I going to do with you, Rebecca?" Chloe scoffed. Her hand shifted the steering wheel. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?" She laughed. Tonight was their date night, their first real one since the birth of their child.

Chloe and Beca drank a few beers, ate some bomb ass pizza, but, most importantly, proved the fire is still very much active in their relationship. After all this time, both women can still make each other laugh.

"I'm serious Chlo." Beca laughed, not so seriously. "Remember the time we went to Applebee's? Aubrey wanted to combine bits and pieces from five entrees. Five!" Beca watched her wife nod in amusement at the recollection. "Our poor waiter heaved one tiny little sigh and-"

"She asked for the manager," Chloe finished the other woman's sentence. Chloe laughed as she turned the steering wheel.

"I've never heard someone cite company policy quite like her," Beca's head lolled back against the headrest.

"Got to do better than that babe, still not feeling the Karen energy." Chloe lied.

"Babe," Beca leaned forward in the passenger seat. She turned sideways, facing her beautiful wife.

"She writes Amazon reviews," Beca scoffed.

"We're all guilty of that," Chloe said.

Beca waved her arms. "She's the reason Amazon stopped selling Eroscillators!" Beca's hands guided Chloe to help bring the redhead on her wife's level of reasoning. "They send one faulty sex toy, and she ruins it for the rest of us! That was supposed to be your anniversary present, err, our anniversary present."

Chloe's head snapped to the left to stare at Beca; her jaw dropped. "Is that why I got the Rachael Ray cook set?"

Beca bit her lip then nodded. "Yeah. Had it planned for months, then Aubrey the Karen had to open her mouth," the brunette rolled her eyes. "I had to find a last-minute replacement gift."

"That's some evil shit," Chloe chuckled. "Okay," she relented.

Relieved, Beca leaned back in her seat. "Told you. Level three Karen," she smiled.

Chloe patted her wife's leg. "I know, babe. It's fun getting you all worked up," she confessed.

The turn signal clicked in a rapid staccato one final time as their car pulled down the freshly paved blacktop road leading to Aubrey's house. Sure, they may have joked about just how high-strung their friend is, but truth be told, both women were happy she was in their lives. Especially nights like tonight, where Aubrey along with her boyfriend Glenn, offered, much to Beca's surprise, to watch their infant son. A night off from mommy duty was refreshing, don't get them wrong, but both ladies found themselves constantly worried about their son. More than once they had to toss their phones aside, not wanting to be those parents who constantly call the babysitter to check up on their little one.

So, they skipped the movie to come back to their son a little earlier than intended. They even shot their friend a text, promptly letting her know.

They've totally nailed this parenting thing...

"Oh, speak of the devil," Chloe said.

Beca looked up to see Aubrey Posen standing at the end of her driveway, visibly trembling, her usually flawless blonde hair tattered like someone took a lawnmower to a bird's nest. The blonde had Chloe and Beca's son secured in one arm while she stood on her tiptoes scanning traffic for the mother's black cherry Chevy Tahoe. It amazed the women how she could do all that with a diaper bag slung across her shoulder.

With extreme caution, they pulled into the driveway.

Beca sighed. "This can't be good."

No sooner had their Tahoe come to a complete stop when the former captain sprinted over to the passenger side pulling open Beca's door.

The blonde promptly shoved Logan into Beca's embrace, tossed the diaper bag over to Chloe, then took off in a brisk jog back inside her home. "Wh-what the hell?" Beca said to her wife, both women equally dumbfounded.

The mothers exchanged looks. They'd never seen Aubrey in such a state of terror before. Panic, sure, but this...this was something different, something unsettling.

Chloe made the first move. The redhead unbuckled her seatbelt, and Beca followed suit. Within seconds, they found themselves about to walk through the door of Aubrey's home. Logan stretched his arms across Beca's chest, hugging his mommy while he drifted into a peaceful sleep, a welcome reward for playing with his favorite aunt.

Quietly, the women walk through the door of Aubrey's ranch style home. Chloe and Beca were greeted to a disaster area. A chandelier was dangling by the skin of a few wires, DVD's strewn all over Hell's half-acre; in fact, Beca nearly stepped on Pretty Woman coming in. Polystyrene beads littered what was until a few hours ago a beautiful floor.

Chloe looked all around the house, "What happened here, Becs?"

Beca looked down at their son who was curled up into her chest sleeping peacefully, "I don't know," she replied. "But I'm afraid to find out."

The slamming of a cupboard door startled the women. It clued them in. Aubrey must be in the kitchen.

Aubrey Posen scooted her chair up to the kitchen table when she saw her friends cautiously approach her.

"Bree." Chloe noticed the blonde's hand trembling as she struggled to pour a glass of wine. "What happened?" Worry laced her voice.

Beca watched the wine cascade into the ornate glass, forming a bigger and bigger pool until it was three-quarters full. With a shaky sweaty hand, the brunette watched her former captain knock back at least a quarter of the red liquid before finishing with a very large, very audible gulp.

Aubrey slammed the glass down on her kitchen table. "Your son," she pointed her index finger at Beca, "is possessed!"

"Aubrey," Chloe tried to calmly console her best friend. "That's ridic-,"

Aubrey cut her off, "ridiculous?"

Chloe nodded, trying and failing to hold back her defensive "mama bear" claws.

"What's ridiculous..." Aubrey continued, "was every...single...time I turned my back, your son-" once again she pointed at Beca, "managed to find every power outlet in my house and try to lick them!"

Beca and Chloe looked at each other in disbelief.

"He knocked over my DVD shelf hoping it would fall on him, he tried to drown himself in my bean bag chair, and, to top it all off, he found his way onto my chandelier, swinging from it like Miley Cyrus on a wrecking ball."

Beca stifled a laugh.

"You think this is funny?" Aubrey tossed back another drink. "Glenn swears Logan spoke to him telepathically! Begging him to push the TV on his head when he crawled up to it."

"Glenn's in my bathroom taking a tranquility bath," Aubrey added quickly.

Chloe jumped to the defense. "Bree I'm so sorry. Logan's never acted like this before." Beca nodded in agreement. "We'd like to pay you for the bean bag chair."

"And the chandelier." Beca reminded her wife.

"Right, and the chandelier!"

Aubrey shook her head. "I told you this would happen," now the blonde pointed at Chloe. "Having a baby with her. Beca's spawn would try to enact vengeance on me."

Beca felt her blood beginning to boil. Now she's in mama bear mode. Nobody talks that way about her baby. Absolutely nobody. Her milky white face flushed with a red hue. Beca hugged her son protectively.

Yeah, keep talking, Karen. Beca thought, not taking her eyes off the woman at the table while she mean-mugged her.

Aubrey watched Chloe plant her hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed. A fire raged in the woman's eyes. Beca noticed it too. Pride swelled up inside her because she knew...just knew her wife was on the same page as her. She wouldn't be surprised if Chloe was thinking the exact same thing.

I wanted that Eroscillator, you bitch! Chloe thought.

Aubrey diffused them. "Look...he's my nephew and I love him. I'm sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away. Logan really rang my bell tonight."

The blonde watched the flames slowly extinguish. Chloe eased up on her stance a little. Beca, on the other hand, wasn't having it, at least not tonight. She'd come around in a few days, maybe a couple weeks but for tonight she was totally wallowing in her pride.

Aubrey walked over to Beca. The brunette was still on edge, yet she allowed her friend to continue. Aubrey dropped her head down to give Logan a little kiss on the head. She hoped it would prove to her friends she still loved the child.

"You two do have a suicidal baby, though," she loves her godchild but she wouldn't be Aubrey Posen if she didn't keep it one hundred.

Beca rolled her eyes.

"We'll call you." Chloe hugged Aubrey while Beca carried their son back out to the car. Before they made it out the front door, the blonde swore she saw Logan shoot her a mischievous wink.

Aubrey's eyes went wide as a wave of panic spread throughout her body.

Three days ago...

"Okay, this is matching up downbeats," Beca flicked a switch, quick to adjust the volume to a low setting as to not upset her baby. The brunette smiled as she watched her son hopping and bouncing in his playpen she set up in her studio. "You like that, bud?" Beca smiled.

Logan was giddy. Hell, his infant mind could barely contain his excitement. Beca assumed, rather naively, it was because of the kickass bonding experience they were sharing; obviously, she was starting him early. Nurturing a passion for music the next generation of Mitchells can use to take the world by storm.

This kid was really getting into it. Beca couldn't help but feel proud.

While his mommy played with buttons, Logan flapped his arms, bopping up and down with joy when he saw, just past his mother's feet, a perfect little red wire fashioned like a noose, dangling freely from beneath the setup.

He licked his lips.

Well, just sealed the deal, now Beca had to pick him up. "We can do layering." Beca punched a key while holding her baby on her lap. A loop of Beca's voice played in various states of layering, causing Logan to lean forward almost under his mommy's workstation. It made the young woman's heart soar. Here was her baby, just shy of a year old, grabbing at air because he thinks his mom is inside the recording equipment. "Aww, cutie pie, mommy's right here," she said, immediately causing her son to pout when she pulled him back from his goal.

"Not happening little dude," she caught on. "You're not licking any outlets on my watch."

Logan screwed up his little face and hit his mommy with the big guns. Beca knew she was too weak to resist a tearful pout, "Okay, you can play over here, little man." She lowered her son to the floor. What harm could it do? The outlets were all covered, plus he lacked the motor function to pull a plug out.

What the hell? Beca rationalized.

That shiny, glowing red wire got closer and closer as Logan was lowered to the floor by his mom. It called to him like Excalibur.

The baby wasn't going to waste any time. The moment his body touched the carpet, Logan crawled the foot and a half distance to the wire. Beca watched, flabbergasted, as her son happily rested his head in the makeshift noose, cooing and babbling away like he'd reached baby nirvana or something.

"Dude!" Beca pushed back the wires before carefully picking up her child. "What's your deal, huh?" She looked directly into his blue eyes, "Are you trying to give me a panic attack?"

Logan nodded.

Beca scowled. "You just wait until mama comes home, until then, you're in time out, bud." Beca lowered him into the pen. "Stay," she pointed her finger. "Staaaay."

The music producer worried if this was their new normal. Would she and Chloe ever have a moment's peace with this kid? Surely, they couldn't ride out his toddler years worried their son was going to jump off a building, or a table, or, hell, even out of an airplane. Nothing was off the table at this point. The mothers had been fortunate; they'd always been around to catch him.

Was this karma? Retribution for angering the gods? Beca knew in her heart of hearts she caused the bed-bug infestation of New York City in her youth, but, honestly, she'd long since believed her penance was paid for it.

Chloe wasn't all that innocent in her youth either. The redhead succumbed to peer pressure on occasion by resorting to bullying. She told Beca about "Baloney Barb," along with a few other incidents. Alice, her previous captain was not a nice person, and toxic environments bring out toxic traits in people, even kind-hearted, well-meaning people like Chloe Beale.

It bothered Chloe so much that she went out of her way to make amends with those people on social media by apologizing profusely and offering to help them out with a favor or two or donate to a charity.

Or, it could be like a lot of things in their life. The strange and out of the ordinary seemed to gravitate towards them. Beca looked over at her son, just peacefully chilling in his play area, and smiled. Motherhood had its challenges, but the young woman wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

Present day

Beca shifts onto her back for a few minutes, she's lost most of her baby weight, which Chloe was all too eager to help with. Something about couples who run together, blah blah blah. It doesn't matter. Beca finds it surprising the discomfort from all the back pain combined with the lack of sleep hasn't made her grouchier.

Then again, she's given birth, and nothing will ever top that pain.

Stealing a quick glance, the brunette finds relief watching her son sleep peacefully in his crib. Sometimes, she wakes up in the middle of the night just to watch him sleep. Other times, she'll let Chloe sleep in, mainly so she can steal baby cuddles while he sleeps on her chest while Beca snoozes in the rocking chair.

Chloe's soft mumble is music to her ears. Beca throws her arm over her body. Chloe's happy to oblige, shimmying closer to her wife. The floral scent from Chloe's body wash is catnip to Beca's senses. "Be okay, babe," she hears Chloe, her wife, her co-parent, her soulmate mumble into her neck.

"He's sound asleep in his crib," Chloe yawns.

Beca reciprocates the yawn, "I know, babe."

"Wouldn't have it any other way Becs,"

Beca shifts her attention back to the crib. The empty crib.

Empty.

Beca jolts upright.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asks.

A thump of aerosols and bottles startle the women, a wobbling silhouette casts a shadow from their bathroom nightlight.

"Logan!" Beca shouts, her feet never touching the ground while she dashes to the bathroom to catch her son from jumping off the counter.

"Did he just fucking teleport?" Chloe shouts from right behind her.

The end.

A/N: I want to thank Another Bechloe Shipper for agreeing to be my beta. She was invaluable. She put up with my craziness to help deliver the best chapter I can possibly deliver.

Check out her story Heavy Petting Zoo, Chloe's Gift, and her story The Breakup, seriously they're some of my favorites, and leagues better than anything I could ever hope to write. She's helping make Fanfiction great again!