In the years following the USO Tour, every Barden Bella went her own separate way and managed to find a good life, even if it wasn't the one she'd intentionally planned. Beca, herself, was living in one of those "semi-ever after" situations, currently working as a producer, manager and consultant at a halfway decent record company. It wasn't exactly a Taylor Swift level of fame, but it was no janky little corner store either. When all was said and done, Beca found herself feeling… satisfied. If nothing else.

But there finally came a time when satisfaction wasn't enough. She wanted something more. She wanted to feel truly passionate, bold, adventurous and excited about her art. She didn't just want to feel like it was a job well done. But even though she couldn't seem to find that energetic inspiration, that didn't mean that the energetic inspiration couldn't find her. Instead, against all odds and expectations, Beca found herself looking at a very familiar face. A very gorgeous familiar face. And that face had a thick, snobby German accent. Oh no…

"Ah! Tiny Mouse! We meet again!"

"Holy crap, dude, no freaking way!"

But sure enough, it was. The Kommissar, the fearless and flawless leader of the German acappella team "Das Sound Machine", was back in town, and even though it had been many years since she and Beca last met, it was as if nothing had changed for them at all. Kommissar was still impossibly and unfairly long, blond and handsome while Beca was still reduced to a babbling, blubbering, gay mess whenever the powerful German singer was near. All it took was one cocky smirk from that drop-dead gorgeous face to undo all of Beca's own confidence and reduce her to the mouse the German so loved to call her. It was embarrassing, but Beca was powerless to do more than gawk and stutter.

"Ah, Mouse, it is good to see that you have not changed in all the years we have been apart!" Sapphire eyes twinkled merrily as a tall figure stared down at the much smaller, meeker girl standing in the doorway.

"And what are you doing here?" came the pathetic attempt at standing her ground.

"I am here to make a record deal with the owner of this company," Kommissar replied. "And you are very much in my way."

"Hey! I'm in nobody's way!" Beca frowned, but when Kommissar only raised one flawlessly sculpted eyebrow, Beca was quick to give a nervous gulp and step aside. Kommissar gave her a smug nod before sauntering on in, hips swaying tauntingly as she walked past Beca.

"Thank you, darling, I am glad you still see things my way," she purred. Beca could only stare after her, aghast and agape.

ooo

As cruel fate would have it, even though Kommissar had come to do business with Beca's boss, Beca still wound up being the one who spent the most time with her. As another higher-up in that business, it quickly became Beca's job to look after Kommissar.

"Oh, crap!" Beca whimpered when she got the news that she was to be in charge of helping Kommissar make and uphold a contract with the company. Beca had wanted to die right then and there, but the sexy German goddess of music refused to let her go that easily.

"Even death shall not take you away from me!" she insisted, grabbing Beca's arm and all but carrying her into an empty recording studio nearby. Beca's mind instantly went to the gutter as she imagined all the things she could do to that German (or have that German do to her) if they were to lock the door. The studio had soundproof walls and doors, after all…

But as nervous as Beca had been in the beginning, it actually went a lot better than expected. Beca was still a helpless, hopeless gay mess around Kommissar, but since the two were no longer rivals, Beca no longer had to try to keep up an antagonistic persona around her. Likewise, even though Kommissar still loved to tease Beca to death, she was no longer as pushy, showy or mean about it. She was still prideful, almost arrogant, but the hostile element of their relationship was gone.

And as even more time passed, Beca and Kommissar actually did manage to strike up a very genuine friendship. It was still a bit guarded on both sides, but there was a new sense of warmth and familiarity that didn't used to be there. Beca still got crazy nervous whenever Kommissar was near, but she no longer got completely terrified. Instead, it was more of a resigned fondness and a muted embarrassment.

"-and if we had a child, it would be normal sized!" Beca was in the middle of musing, but then she seemed to realize what she had just said, and she was quick to slap a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Kommissar, meanwhile, laughed heartily.

"If it makes you feel any better, Mouse, I did used to be teased quite mercilessly for my rather large size," the German offered through a huff of laughter. This made Beca frown, both in disbelief and hurt. How could anyone be mean to someone like Kommissar? Not only was she terrifying, but she was also actually genuinely an awesome person. And also, being bullied sucked. So Beca was going to empathize either way.

"It's true!" Kommissar promised when she saw the shocked look on Beca's face. "When I was "little", the others used to mock me for being so tall and gangly and awkward. They called me "Daddy Long Legs" and "Moose" and an array of other insulting nicknames. And none of the boys ever wanted to dance with me because I was always taller than them," Kommissar shook her head with a bittersweet expression. "My height used to be an insecurity of mine, silly as it may sound. But the people I knew growing up were quite ruthless and they never let me forget how freakishly and abnormally tall and lanky I was!"

And that was the first time the two of them really opened up to one another. Beca had grown indignant on Kommissar's behalf, ranting against her old tormentors, much to her pleasure. And then Beca, herself, confessed how rough it was growing up short. The pitfalls to this upbringing weren't hard to imagine. The size jokes, the literal belittling, the inability to reach things, and the occasional sexist remark (since she was also a woman, as well as being short) all made it rather difficult. So the two were actually quite well-matched despite being on opposite ends of the spectrum, so to speak.

"But size does not matter, does it, Mouse?" Kommissar teased with a suggestive little wink. But before Beca could clumsily ask her what that was supposed to mean, complete with all the nervous laughter, Kommissar showed her mercy and gave her a different answer.

"After all, you and your little Barden Bellas were able to upstage all of DSM at the World Tour. Clearly the biggest is not always the best."

And for once, Beca was struck dumb by the Kommissar, not because of her flawlessness or gorgeousness, but because that was the first genuine compliment the German had ever given to the tiny American. It was also the first time she'd willingly admitted defeat about the World's. Beca had no idea how to reply, so she didn't, but Kommissar understood what Beca's silence meant, and she took it all with one amused smirk.

ooo

From that day on, friendship continued to bloom between the German and the American. Even though the spark was still there, Kommissar was far more relaxed now. Being defeated had really done wonders in making her more laidback. And because of that, she found it easier to open up to Beca. And that in turn helped their friendship bloom even more.

They spent an increasing amount of time together, in and out of the studio, and whenever they were together, music was sure to follow. Then, after long enough, they began to produce together, creating new music side by side and recording in a joint effort, instead of as two soloists.

"Excellent work, Mouse!" Kommissar praised as Beca finished recording the German song Kommissar had written for them.

The song, itself, wasn't too complicated, but Kommissar was genuinely proud of how well Beca was able to sing all that German. And she no longer had any issue in expressing this pride to Beca. It was so different from how she used to be back at the World's… And Beca, herself, was blushing with pride, her own ability to hide her emotions vanishing just as entirely as Kommissar's had.

"Danke schön," she joked, and Kommissar's smile widened.

Without even realizing it, Beca's spark had come back. Her zest and zeal for her art had returned. Suddenly, she was excited and enthusiastic again. She was creating again! She was writing music, recording it, and editing it. It was the same thing she'd always done, but after months of feeling only lukewarm satisfaction and contentment, she'd found that special oomph once again.

Now, she felt driven and ready. Her mind was bursting with ideas she wanted to bring to life. That level of creativity and inspiration was off the charts, and she was more than happy to ride it out. She was dying to soar to new heights and explore new musical territory. She felt fiery and passionate once more, so many ideas and so much energy and confidence!

And as she sat in the recording studio, Kommissar at her side, both of them singing in perfect harmony, it didn't take her long to realize what, or rather who, had helped her find her spark again. Now she got it! Back when she made music alone, although it had been fun, what really made it so addictive was when she got to share in that joy of creation with other likeminded musicians and artists. It was more than just making, it was sharing as well! That collaborative aspect was what she'd been missing all this time, and why she'd hadn't felt this happy since being a Bella.

But now it was as if the curtain was being pulled away, and suddenly, Beca wondered why it had taken her so long to realize that which seemed so painfully obvious in hindsight. Art was always better when there were other people around to enjoy it, whether as the audience or fellow artists. Now, with Kommissar back in her life and at her side, Beca finally found what she was looking for. She had someone to share her art with once again, and someone who would share art with her in return.

In a mutual round, the two went back and forth, each woman sharing her art with the other before helping the other perfect that art. It was like an endless melody where the harmony parts intertwined and switched up to compliment one another and create a full song, each part getting its own little solo to shine before easily slipping back into the chorus to create the full work of art.

With Kommissar finally around to sing the harmony parts, Beca's life felt like a full song again. She felt like a work of art, and each and every note that she and Kommissar sang hung in the air all around them, completing the masterpiece until nothing but the purest of art remained.

AN: In honor of "Art Day", we've got my favorite Pitch Perfect pairing. (Music is an art, so it counts :P)