A/N: It's my birthday, so here's a chapter to celebrate.
Roadside Attractions
And it's beginning to get to me,
That I know more of the stars and sea,
Than I do of what's in your head,
Barely touching in our cold bed.
Are you beginning to get my point,
That all this fighting with aching joints,
Is doing nothing but tire us out?
No one knows what this fight's about.
-Snow Patrol
"What do you want to do?" Beca asks, "Do you want to wait it out in the parking lot or go inside?"
Aubrey leans back against the seat and folds her arms across her chest.
"Okay, well, you stay here, I'm going inside." The wind is worse now, and if that doesn't blow her away, the lightning will make up for it by electrocution. She's halfway to opening the door when Aubrey stops her.
"I thought you didn't have any money."
That…is a very good point. Maybe this counts enough as an emergency to use the credit card her father gave her and told her not to use unless she's dying. On second thought, she's not sure she'd be willing to risk it even if death was knocking at her door.
Aubrey digs around in the center console (okay, it's perfectly organized and all she really does is move some things over) to take out a credit card of her own. "Come on. We're going to have to run for it."
"Are you telling me that always-prepared, survivalist Aubrey Posen doesn't have an umbrella?"
"If you want to go out there with an umbrella and blow away like Mary Poppins meets the cow from Twister, be my guest. I won't stop you." Aubrey pulls the umbrella from the back and offers it to her.
"I think I'll take my chances." Beca takes it out of her hands and turns toward the door. It's now or never.
"Don't get my seats wet." Aubrey makes it look easy the way she grabs her things and takes off running across the parking lot with them hugged tightly against her chest.
Meanwhile, Beca struggles to get the umbrella open without getting out of the car first, all while maintaining the state of Aubrey's perfectly upholstered seats. The wind catches underneath it the second she has it open and drags her out of the car so quickly that she barely has time to even shut the door behind her. It sort of works to keep her dry, until about halfway there when a strong gust turns it inside out. She arrives under the awning at the front door equally as soaked as Aubrey. "You couldn't have just parked closer?!"
Instead of shouting over the rain back at her, she thrusts her arm out in the direction of all the taken spots near the door and then she goes inside.
Outside is so loud, the bell above the door doesn't even jingle until the door is completely closed. Beca stands near the entrance, looking down at the rainwater pooling on the floor around her feet as it runs from her clothes. Would it be too much to ask if Aubrey brought a few changes of clothes in her portable bunker? She looks up, but Aubrey is already at the front desk, getting them a room. "Get two rooms!" The look she receives back has her ducking her head again.
"Let's go." Aubrey marches past her with a single key, back out the door.
Maybe Beca should have looked for a hotel – somewhere where the doors to the rooms were inside the building. The balconies from above cover the entire first floor walkway, but that doesn't protect them from the wind blowing directly at them.
To add insult to injury, the lock takes quite a bit of fiddling with to work, but once the door is open, at least they're somewhere dry. Aubrey walks straight to where the air conditioner is blasting arctic air while Beca closes the door. She turns it off – and then they just stand there, on opposite sides of the room, shivering.
"I said two rooms," Beca speaks up and drops the broken next to the door, "And you didn't even think to get two beds?"
"It's all they had."
Beca smirks and walks in the bathroom to retrieve some towels.
"Thanks," Aubrey mumbles, catching hers mid-air.
"Oh, come on, don't these places usually have blow-dryers?" Beca asks, checking under the sink.
"I don't know."
"Never stayed in a roadside motel before?"
Aubrey doesn't answer. She moves to the bathroom as well and steps into the tub to wring out her clothes.
The towel doesn't accomplish much for either of them. Beca's is soaked just after drying her hair. She tosses it toward the nearest corner then peels off her shirt.
"What are you doing?" Aubrey looks at her with wide eyes.
"Not getting hypothermia." She tugs off her pants as well and adds them to the pile. "You can do a bikini car wash, but you can't stand seeing someone in a tank top and underwear? Just wait until I take those off too."
"We didn't do a bikini car wash this year." Aubrey's gaze remains somewhat on her while she continues just trying to dry off with her wet towel.
Beca strips off her tank top, leaving her bra and underwear very much on. "You're really going to stay in those clothes? I've seen you in your panties before."
"While I was changing into other clothes." Aubrey frowns in her direction as she steps out of the tub. "Don't say panties. It sounds weird coming from your mouth. Why were you even looking?"
"You're looking now." Beca laughs until Aubrey's wet towel hits her square in the face as she walks past. "Seriously. How do you plan to sleep in that?"
"I don't." Aubrey stops near the window and peels the curtain back just enough to peek outside.
"Suit yourself." Beca kicks Aubrey's towel out of the way then checks the bed for bugs or weird stains. She might not be Aubrey's level of weird about that stuff, but it is a motel after all. Satisfied with the surface level of cleanliness, she climbs in and pulls the blanket around herself. "You just gonna stay like that all night?"
"We can leave once the rain stops."
"Aubrey, I don't think it's stopping any time soon. Where are you going?"
"I need to text Chloe that we're okay." Apparently that's something that needs to be done from the bathroom.
xxxxx
Ah. Cable TV. Spanish soap opera. Spanish soap opera. English soap opera. Reruns of old cartoons. It's been so long since Beca has flipped aimlessly through channels, she almost forgot it's something people used to do all the time. "Plan on coming out any time soon?" she calls, "I have to pee."
The bathroom door swings open and Aubrey steps out. "Go."
"I was kidding." Beca is sure Aubrey shoots her some sort of death glare in response, but she doesn't get a chance to see it. She's propping herself up on her elbows to get out of bed, having been kidding about being kidding, when the room goes dark. Well, that's just….
Aubrey turns on her phone's flashlight. It's bright enough to light the way to the bathroom without Beca running into anything, but doesn't achieve much else – especially not once she's in there alone and the door is closed. At that point, she isn't going to even think about asking Aubrey to either let her borrow it or fetch her own phone (from the car) for some light. If she hadn't been so focused on that useless umbrella, maybe she wouldn't have left it on the seat.
Even with the air off, the whole place is really fucking freezing. So much so, that she considers asking Aubrey whether or not it's a myth that lightning is more likely to strike a person in the shower. Knowing Aubrey might lie to her either way is the only thing that stops her. Maybe she could suggest Aubrey take a hot shower and go from there… She just can't figure out how to word it without it sounding weird. There is at least a hair tie on her wrist, and she uses it to pull her wet hair up away from her skin. It helps a little.
"You wanna share body heat?" she jokes as she exits the bathroom, "That's a real thing that works, right?"
Even with the power out, Beca can still make out Aubrey's silhouette sitting on the very corner of the bed and her imagination provides plenty of Aubrey's disgusted facial expressions to choose from. "Yeah, that's a real thing. And, no, I'd rather not try it."
"So, what you're saying is you'd freeze to death before letting my hot body keep you alive?" Beca collapses back down and bunches up the blankets.
That makes her laugh. "You're stupid," she replies, teeth chattering.
Beca grins. "Take off your wet clothes. It's not like we can see each other anyway. And you're always welcome to sleep on the floor."
"I paid for the room. You sleep on the floor."
"You paid what, like $50 for the night?"
Aubrey scoffs then mutters out, "Thirty."
"Wow, you really broke the bank on this place."
"You picked the motel."
"You're getting the bed wet."
Aubrey turns to face her. "Do you really want me to take my clothes off that badly?"
Yes – no. Dude, no, you don't. "I'm starting to think you might need my help. You could just ask."
"Cheeky." Aubrey bunches up her dress then pulls it up over her head.
"Are your underwear wet right now too?" The soaked sundress ends up landing directly over Beca's whole head. She chucks it somewhere into the darkness.
"Who says I'm wearing any?" Aubrey crawls toward the top of the bed. "Stay on your side." She rolls over to face the wall and pulls the blankets all the way up to her neck.
"Now what?" Beca asks, rocking her feet side to side.
Aubrey turns over just enough to see her. "What do you mean now what? Now we go to sleep then wake up in the morning and pretend this never happened."
Right. "Are you really not wearing underwear right now?" Beca asks.
"Yes, Beca, I am wearing underwear right now."
It's just too easy to push her buttons. "What color are they?"
"Red," Aubrey deadpans, "The same shade that's going to be soaking through this mattress if you don't shut up. Go to sleep." She turns back toward the wall again.
"Does your bra perfectly match?"
It's difficult to tell if the sound that escapes Aubrey's throat is a groan or a growl. "As a matter of fact, no. It's white. Why does it matter?"
It doesn't. It's just entertaining that she's actually answering the questions. "Mine are black."
"I would have never guessed."
Beca smirks. "My blood isn't soaking through the mattress yet."
"Would you like it to be?"
It's not like Aubrey is actually going to kill her in this motel room. She's like at least 75% sure of that. It is a little iffy. But what's life if not taking risks? "If I say yes?"
"Beca, I'm going to sleep. I still have to drive all the way back in the morning."
"Dude, yeah, no, that's totally fine. I just didn't expect you to make a threat and then not follow through." Beca knows full well she's walking a dangerous line, but, still, she doesn't expect it when Aubrey rolls over and pins her wrists to her chest. She lets out a stunned "oh" as she's pressed down against the mattress by almost all of Aubrey's body weight.
"Do you enjoy being alive?"
Beca actually has to think about that question. "It kind of depends on the day. Today isn't exactly a solid yes." Okay, it hasn't been that bad of a day. She might even say she actually had a little bit of fun. She's having fun now – although now she's feeling a bit weird trapped under Aubrey's half-naked body. But she's also not cold anymore. Definitely not cold. "I feel like I'm on MythBusters right now," she whispers. It's a true, proven fact: someone else can keep you from freezing to death. That's actually really good to know – and the not freezing to death part is the only part she tries to focus on, because the heat rising from her body isn't exactly in places she expected it to be. "You can actually get off now – like of me, not on me."
"Thank you for the clarification." Aubrey doesn't budge. It's not all that surprising that she still smells really nice even after being drenched by rain – like vanilla with a hint of something fruity. Even her breath smells good; it's minty and warm against Beca's lips.
"Um…" Beca clears her throat. "Are you going to move or…?"
"Or what?"
Beca definitely isn't going to try to make her. That would only end badly on her part. "…not?"
Aubrey sits up and cold air rushes over Beca's stomach. She casually sniffs like nothing happened and resumes her original position with her back facing Beca. "Goodnight."
Is it just Beca or is the bed suddenly much more uncomfortable than it was just minutes before? Confusion and maybe a little bit of fear (or is it something akin to lust?) leave her squirming to find the right position. So much for staying on their own sides of the bed. In the awkwardness of it all, she nearly bursts out laughing. "Goodnight."