A/N: In response to the Halloween prompt "Master Of Puppets" by pitch-perfect-spookfest on tumblr, here's my fourth piece of writing. The concept of writing about possessed objects, like puppets, dolls, or even ventriloquists, never crossed my mind. I was thinking about psychological things, like substance abuse, (emotional) manipulation, and sexual attraction. 😅 I'm stupid.

Sorry, this is about the latter. It's not horror, either.

A/N: This story is inspired by Brittany Snow's photo shoots for the MAXIM magazine. Had to research what that magazine even contains, but, for the sake of the plot, let's just pretend it only features rising stars female models (nothing about cars, gadgets, booze, etc.) and has valuable content about them.

SWEET BUT PSYCHO

The week before, Fat Amy moved out of the one-bedroom apartment, leaving behind a few boxes strewn about the little nook that had served as her improvised bedroom. She had placed a clothes display between her bed and Beca and Chloe's sofa bed, so they had separate "rooms." She claimed she would fetch the rest of her belongings over the following few weeks, but for now, she and her fiancé, Bumper, want to get settled into their new apartment back in Georgia.

Beca, working at her desk where she keeps her computer, laptop, and mixing board, glances over to the sofa bed she and Chloe share since they lack the financial and spatial resources to accommodate an additional bed. Since Fat Amy has moved out, she is thinking of setting up an improvised bedroom, as well, by purchasing an IKEA twin bed (again) and placing it in the corner of the room that Fat Amy formerly occupied. Possible solutions include rearranging the furniture to create "two rooms" out of the whole apartment or adding another dresser to act as an optical barrier between their respective beds. No longer is there the need to sleep in a sofa bed with Chloe, anyway. Beca can live just fine without the redhead's nighttime cuddles.

The only question is: how will Chloe react?

She will have to speak to Chloe about it, and the redhead may even agree with her that it would be best to sleep in separate beds. Perhaps that perky psycho would be thrilled at the idea and willing to pitch in and help Beca assemble the new bed.

So, Beca does a little housekeeping to declutter and remove some of Fat Amy's belongings. Acquaint Chloe with the "new space" presented by their shared home. She gathers Fat Amy's cardboard packaging, places all that in one corner, and gives that section a little vacuuming. As she's cleaning up the apartment, she may as well go through the boxes in the walk-in closet and get rid of the clutter. Several are just stacked up, and some hold her and Chloe's old belongings from their college dorm.

That is, until Beca discovers a strange-looking shoebox on her half of the cabinet. It can only be hers because Chloe customarily scribbles her name on each one of her boxes, even writing the "o" in her name as a heart—that's the kind of nutcase that woman is. Beca, on the other hand, has "don't fucking touch this" written across hers. But this box in her hands has nothing written across it.

While sitting cross-legged on the floor, she removes the lid and uncovers a stack of magazines—just the classics with the lingerie models. Perhaps more perplexing to Beca is the notion that either Chloe or even Fat Amy was stashing and hiding them. And why would they? Maybe to acquire the same trendy lingerie to surprise their boyfriends with? But the magazines are older issues, from 2008 at least. Beca wonders whether the previous tenant left them behind and flips through them out of curiosity.

Nothing noteworthy. Nothing except lingerie and sensual postures from the beautiful models. No nudes. No sexual material. Then she closes the front cover and freezes for a second…

Those eyes. Brilliant blue. They seem familiar. That flirtatious look. But blonde wavy hair? Who is this woman? She appears to be relatively young. However, her makeup could be concealing her actual age.

With her heart stuck in her throat, Beca's eyes travel to the headlines that emphasize the model's name, which read "All Rise – The Hottest Legal Eagle," "Halloween Eye Candy," and "Dreams Do Come True," respectively. All of these headlines put the model's name in the spotlight.

Beca shrieks in shock, flinging the magazine to the ground as if it were hot coal and covering her eyes.

"Oh my God!" she yelps, trying not to freak out. She risks a glimpse at the blonde woman's face between her fingers, peeking carefully as if it might jump at her. Now she sees it, sees the resemblance. She recognizes her. That look with those intense, piercing blue eyes that Beca has grown used to seeing every day over the past few years. Those curves. The abs. That body. Beca squeals in disbelief. "What the… that's Chloe!"

*,*,*

Beca had known from the start that Chloe had always been pretty confident with her physical qualities and attractiveness since the exuberant redhead had burst in on her when Beca was in the shower and literally informed her of this fact.

And since Beca had become used to seeing Chloe in her underwear through the years of being roommates—as the redhead doesn't bother covering herself when she exits the bathroom—the photo shoots showcasing another side of the redhead didn't affect her at all.

Of course, they didn't.

That was basically a younger, 18-year-old version of her roommate slash best friend for years. Beca would be a freak if she were attracted to this version of Chloe.

Chloe Beale. Always with a lady-like demeanor. Who struts the streets with grace and poise. Never swears. Always patient and kind. Sweet, but a total psycho. A goody two shoes.

Thinking about the photo shoots, that was Chloe in sexy lingerie. Her other side. The sexual side of her. Maybe an image her ex-boyfriends were used to seeing. Except Chloe has natural red hair; Beca would know if her best friend was dyeing her hair.

Beca keeps gazing behind her as she absent-mindedly rinses the dishes, and her eyes keep drifting to the walk-in closet, where the box is stored at its far back. With those magazines inside. Now knowing that Chloe had once in her life posed like that, Beca doesn't know how to live with that information.

Will she confront Chloe about it? Maybe. Maybe not. For what reason, though? That's none of her fucking business, after all.

Why didn't Chloe choose this career path when considering her options? If she had pursued her potential, she could have most likely become rich since she had (and still has) great beauty. Instead, she got a college degree and is currently enrolled in veterinary school while renting a cramped studio apartment with her best friend from college.

However, these are portfolio-building editorial shoots. And, of course, models don't make much from editorial shoots. As a rule, the commission that bookers take from a model's profits is a significant portion of what the model really takes home. For models, the biggest paychecks come from campaigns and high-paying shoots or projects. Models don't make their real money from editorials, shows, or even single magazine covers. These are prevalent, often overlooked factors: financial instability. And let alone the risks and challenges a model has to go through, such as being subject to everything from sexual harassment to stereotypes and mistreatment in this business. Beca knows about this because she's been producing the music for some fashion week and gets to meet all kinds of people.

Maybe that's why Chloe went for the tried-and-true career path that would allow her to maintain her identity while providing a solid foundation for her future. And she enjoys her job a lot.

Beca realizes her mind is racing a mile an hour, and her hands are shaking as the images of Chloe in her sexy lingerie flash behind her eyelids, looking all sultry and posing suggestively into the camera with her big, bright blue eyes.

The magazines are tempting Beca to have another look, urging her, like she's a puppet on a string, and they are tugging at her. There's no harm in doing so, right?

Beca speculates that an article may uncover Chloe's decisions and her previous career path. And she reasons that she is merely curious about finding out this information, disregarding the fact that she might just as easily inquire about it directly from Chloe when she returns home.

Her tummy has this crazy tingling sensation that makes her insides flutter, and she feels hot all over. Her heartbeat is quickening from the excitement, kind of like crushing on a hot celebrity dude—except it's a woman, if that's making sense. She's confused. Could it be that she is now attracted to her female best friend? To this crazy, annoying, overly bubbly nutcase? Because of some crazy images exposing her nearly naked flesh? Because Beca had never once entertained the possibility that Chloe, too, may be sexually desirable?

Beca had already seen all that before, but it never stirred anything within her. So, no, of course, she wasn't attracted to her.

The door opens with a rattle of keys in the lock.

"Hey," Chloe greets her, sounding exhausted. She's wearing her coat over her pink scrubs.

As she wipes her hands with the tea towel, Beca jumps and struggles to maintain her composure. She immediately cleans the countertop's surface to give the impression that she is actively working.

"Hey, you," Beca says, clearing her throat when her voice breaks. "You hungry? Dinner's ready."

"Yeah, I'm starving." A few words from Chloe, and she's off to the loo. Her muffled voice is heard through the gap in the door and the rustle of garments. "We had a client whose beagle had CPRA, and you know that beagles are predisposed to a condition called chondrodysplasia…"

"Dude, speak English," Beca calls back, rolling her eyes.

"It's an eye disease, and the dog was tiny," Chloe explains as she emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but her underwear. Beca quickly averts her gaze and notices that her ears are heating up. Her stomach in knots, she stirs the curry and then switches off the heat. The redhead keeps obliviously scurrying about the room, looking for something to wear. "That dog can't see in low light. The owner kept losing their dog and wondered what the problem was, assumed it might be blindness, but it can't be because dogs have—"

To Beca, Chloe's incoherent babbling turns into white noise. The redhead walks up behind Beca to peer into the pot, scooping out a heaping teaspoon to sample while she continues to chatter enthusiastically about her most recent patient. However, she is still only wearing a bra and undies, and her shirt is clutched in one hand as she leans against the countertop.

Beca looks up at the ceiling and struggles to regulate her breathing as she prays to the Heavens to end these visions. She turns on autopilot as she nods and occasionally hums in response. It's not that she intends to be rude. Chloe's stories about her patients and her fondness for animals were nothing new. In all seriousness, however, Beca's thoughts of this perky woman are suddenly interrupted by flashes of other pictures, reinforced by Chloe's current state of near nakedness. To concentrate is difficult in the face of such distractions.

While setting the table together, Chloe eventually slips on the shirt and shorts so that Beca can look into her eyes as she responds to the story. They eat together and chat about the day's events, how lonely it is now that Fat Amy is no longer around, and the fact that Beca called to see how their former roommate was doing. Normal small-talk fare.

Chloe's evening routine includes a thirty-minute shower in the bathroom after dinner. Thus, Beca retrieves the box again, then skims through the many articles in the magazine before placing the box back where it was hidden. There are, in fact, articles on Chloe, which Beca feels drawn to read once Chloe is at work.

God, she feels terrible about what she's doing. It's the same as betraying Chloe or cheating on her in a way. Her adrenaline is pumping at the prospect, which is both thrilling and terrifying.

Chloe, smelling delightfully delicious, joins her later on the couch to watch TV. She squishes up behind Beca, who is already lying there, and hugs her around her waist. Beca, feeling awkward and heated up, struggles out of Chloe's grip, and sits upright, hoping she will have the guts to address the additional problem by acquiring two separate beds and making some minor adjustments to the apartment.

"You still dating that dude from work? How's that one going?" She opens the conversation by trying to sound interested in her best friend's love life.

"You mean, Skylar?"

"The fuck I know his name was," Beca answers without much enthusiasm, continuing to stare at the TV. She's leaning on Chloe's stomach, likely in an effort to relax and seem less suspicious, ignoring that she's feeling tense. The fact that she hasn't been able to look at her best friend for more than three seconds straight since she got back home is something she can't deny.

"I called it off," Chloe says, shrugging. "It was only a hookup, anyway."

"Ah, okay…"

"And you?" Chloe asks. "Any new love interests?"

Beca tries hard to focus on the commercial as Chloe brushes her arm. "No. No time for that."

"Ah, okay," she mimics Beca.

Beca needs to get the subject back on track. "Okay, but if you ever have the hankering to bring home a dude," Beca tries, not looking at her, "and you wanted to get laid while I'm at home, you might find it, umm, like... wouldn't it be nice to have your own bed?" Ah, a great intro to the topic.

"I'd never bring home a guy without notifying you beforehand," Chloe states with a shrug. "I'm not a horny teenager, Beca. Relax." She giggles and swats Beca's arm.

"I mean, we have the space now," Beca offers, chuckling nervously as she proceeds. Not that she's actually looking forward to being around when her roommate was having sex with a dude because it sure would be awkward to hear them do it. She doesn't want to imagine what Chloe sounds like while having sex. Her ears heat up, and she swallows hard. "Let's say you meet a hot dude while out drinking, you two start making out, things get steamy, you both end up stumbling into our apartment, and then, BAM..." Beca claps her hands together for dramatic effect, "I'm already sleeping in our sofa bed. You can't fuck. A cock block."

"Well, I'd just go back with him to his place," Chloe reasons calmly. "Or we could have a threesome," she adds, giggling.

Beca's eyebrows furrow, and she feels uncomfortable at the idea. Chloe's initially enthusiastic grin gradually fades as she appears to process what Beca is attempting to say.

"Are you like… suggesting we could have separate beds?" Chloe's voice cracks mid-sentence, and the brightness in her eyes extinguishes.

"No, ha-ha," Beca says quickly, waving the ridiculous notion off as if wondering where that came from, "I just thought maybe you'd want that. Like, have your own bed."

"If you want that," Chloe says sullenly, staring at the TV, "you can crash on the couch. Let me have the bed. No way I'm waking up with a sore back in the morning."

Beca rolls her eyes and heaves a long sigh.

They are technically both couches, except one has a multifunction, but Beca doesn't say that out loud.

*,*,*

Beca, sleeping alone for the first time in years, receives a rude awakening when she discovers she has very little room to move about in. In addition to no longer being cold, she feels like a weighted blanket has been placed over her. Indeed, the couch in front of the television is compact, but not quite this little. She attempts to move her arm while simultaneously blowing a strand of hair out of her face. And she finds there's a dangling leg and a gentle snore arising from the sleepyhead on her chest.

It's Chloe, who must have snuck up to her at some point, unable to fall asleep on the bed without Beca.

Beca rolls her eyes as she tries to find a more comfortable position around Chloe, resting her arms around her best friend's torso and finally falling asleep again.

Beca wakes up the following day to find their home empty. She gets showered and ready for the day. And in the afternoon, when she returns home, Chloe isn't there yet. This implies that Beca still has some time to attend to her own matters without interruption.

By retrieving the box from the walk-in closet and getting the magazines.

It's like being powerless to keep away from doing something that you know you shouldn't.

As she reads through the articles—God forbid, her eyes solely focus on nothing else but the piece of the interview in them—her heart races rapidly, her mind goes blank, and her hands shake as she thumbs through the pages.

Basically, it's about how Chloe was a rising star, aiming to become a supermodel in the business, and how she'd been discovered. Beca quickly checks the time and then finally dares to look at the photo shoots of her best friend.

"Oh God, I can't do this. I can't do… this…" she hisses through clenched teeth, feeling naughty as she does. She takes a deep breath in, then dares to look…

Her eyes scan the curves of that body, those perfectly shaped abs, those breasts, that tight ass. Emphasis on facial features, perfectly sculptured with light and makeup. Wearing all kinds of lingerie… looking all glamour, intimate, and sensual. Teeth biting on luscious bottom lips. Blonde wavy hair falling over her bright blue innocent eyes, yet looking seductive.

That very same look Chloe still has, but which she reserves for dudes she finds attractive.

These photos were suggestive, romantic, and very, very erotic—a side of her red-haired best friend Beca didn't realize would sexually confuse her. It's driving her wild that she cannot fathom the reason behind her reaction, feeling the heat rise to her ears and fill her cheeks, hands clamming and trembling as she runs her fingertip across the surface of the photo—of Chloe lying on that sofa, the peaks visible through her bra, her lacy underwear almost see-through.

Imagining what it would be like to touch her best friend that way… And as she does, she loses track of time of how long she's been staring at the photographs…

Then Beca slams the magazine shut and tucks them away, hiding the box inside the walk-in closet and closing the doors. Because there's the rattle of keys in the lock, the door swings open.

"Hey," Chloe greets her, pausing in her tracks. Since Beca's still in her work outfit, the redhead walks up behind her and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Beca stammers, nervously rubbing her neck. She's swaying slightly when she stands up. "Just… exhausted."

"Oh, God, take a break, Beca," Chloe suggests with genuine concern as she walks over and steadies her. "Do you need anything? Water? I'll heat our dinner."

"I'm fine." Beca gives a fake laugh as she settles on the couch. Just don't touch me, she thought.

Chloe places her cheek on Beca's forehead, causing Beca to wince, then says, "Beca, your face is red. Do you have a fever?"

"No, I'm fine," Beca dismisses, leaning away.

Following their typical weeknight routine, they have dinner together and chat about their respective social and professional lives. There's nothing unusual about it. Beca tries to avoid looking over to the closet when Chloe is in the shower. It can't hurt to have another look, can it? There's no way she can pull this off. She had already done enough damage. She essentially violated Chloe's privacy and thus betrayed her trust. Amongst best friends, this is an absolute no-go. She needs to tell her straight up what she's done.

After a while, Chloe comes out of the bathroom and strikes up a casual conversation with Beca, who is working on her PC across the room. She can hear the bed squeaking.

"Monday's my day off," Chloe announces, "wanna hang out, maybe?"

"Monday?" Beca asks, scrolling through her files, "dunno. Can't; it's a bit stressful."

"It's a holiday, Bec," Chloe drawls, her tone of voice chastising. "You didn't plan on locking yourself up again and working all day? Have a life once in a while."

Beca's irritation builds with the implication that she is a homebody, and she jerks her head toward the sofa bed as if to make an angry comment. Only to feel her veins constricting and her blood turning to ice, at the same time, feeling her head heat up. She lets out a squeak of surprise.

Chloe is splayed out on the bed with her back to the headboard, propped up on her elbows, and scrolling through her iPhone absently. And all she's wearing is a matching bra and some undies. Her red curls are blown-dry, looking smooth to the touch as they flow on both sides of her shoulders. And the motion of her bottom lip protruding as it blows away a strand of hair from her eyes is hypnotizing. Her tongue wets her upper lip, and her eyes are lively as she smiles at something on her phone. Maybe another funny cat video she's watching.

Chloe enjoys parading about the apartment when dressed in such a manner. Because she loves to feel sexy. In college, Beca used to walk in on Chloe just in underwear while relaxing in her bedroom. Imagine if she had a straight male roommate who saw her walking about their dorm room in a continual state of near-nakedness; he'd be having a hard-on for her. All. The Funking. Time. Cynthia Rose sure didn't mind if Chloe—or any of the Bellas—happened to run around their sorority homes, exposing that much skin.

The sight in and of itself did not stand out as particularly weird. During the sweltering heat of July, Fat Amy and Chloe would typically sit on the couch wearing nothing but their underwear and bikini tops. Beca ought to be used to the sight of just a partially clothed Chloe. They'd been to the beach several times, went swimming together a lot, and bathed in the sun while just wearing their bikinis. But why does it seem so confusing right now?

Ah, yes. That's what sexual attraction does to you.

Beca snaps her head back at her monitor, breathing evenly. "Can't you, like, hang out with your colleagues? I do need to edit this track."

"You're working too hard," Chloe comments. "Come here."

Beca doesn't dare look back and find out where "here" is that Chloe's indicating.

"No," she says snippily, "I've no time."

"Just five minutes," Chloe suggests.

"No."

"Beca…"

"No."

Then Beca hears the creaking of the bed as Chloe moves and footsteps approach her from behind, a hand grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the bed.

"No, dude, seriously," Beca complains.

Now standing in front of the bed, Chloe squeals with excitement as she puts her in a body lock. In the same way, Fat Amy used to do whenever Beca was agitated, heartbroken, or stressed. Her best friends knew how to deal with Beca Mitchell's bitchiness. Their calming techniques worked like a charm. Still, Beca didn't enjoy it; she has never liked being touched and still doesn't.

And now is not the right time to do this. Beca's whole body stiffens; her fists are clenched to her chest, her eyes are closed, and her pulse is pounding at her neck; her blood is rushing through her veins, heating her up. Because a half-naked Chloe is hugging her so tight.

"God, Beca, relax," Chloe coos. And she's speaking directly into Beca's ear, causing the spot to tingle. Beca inhales deeply. "To this day, you're not used to this?"

"No, don't," Beca pants heavily, turning her face away, "Don't touch me. Let go!"

Chloe, perplexed by the response but obviously enjoying a round of "torturing," does the worst possible thing that Beca didn't expect: she straddles Beca's hips and grabs her wrists to force them apart, pinning her to the bed. Because Beca is no match for Chloe's strength.

"Beca, what is wrong with you?" Chloe asks, this time sounding bothered by Beca's behavior. "You've been acting so weird since yesterday. Look at me. Are you mad at me for something? Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Beca whines. "God, just get off me, you fucking psycho!"

When Chloe finally lets go of her wrists and sits up straight, Beca opens her eyes and sneaks a glance. And for some strange and wrong reason, seeing Chloe in that position on top of her does make her stomach quiver and arouses her to the core. Beca tilts her head to the side to look at the wall, aware that the strange feeling has spread throughout her body and is likely ruining her panties.

God… help me.

"Are you mad at me, Beca?" she asks again, softer this time.

"No, I'm not."

"Beca, if you want to sleep in separate beds," Chloe says, sighing, "I don't mind that. We can go to IKEA tomorrow and get your bed. What do you think?"

"Yeah, that… that would be cool," Beca stammers, relaxing a little. "Okay, you nutcase, now get off me."

Still oblivious to Beca's discomfort, Chloe leans down, kisses her cheek, then rests her head beside Beca's. Beca stiffens up again as she tries to ignore her best friend's breasts pressed against her, clenching her jaw, and grabbing the bedsheet tight without Chloe noticing.

"I'm glad we're good. You know, it was getting weird when Amy moved out," she says softly to Beca, encircling her neck with her arms. God, Chloe smells so good. And her scent is addicting. "But we can do this together; we don't need a new roommate. And I realize our bills are high, but I'll pay you the remainder after I finish vet school." That's not even what Beca's been worried about, not even for a second. She doesn't care at all about the money.

Beca worries that she won't be able to quickly get over the internal and sexual turmoil that these interactions cause. What's worse is the pangs of guilt she's going through as Chloe does all this to her. Without realizing the havoc she's causing.

Beca has only had one physical encounter in the last several months, and that was with Chloe—never in a sexual capacity. Only the friendly things; the awkward embraces and snuggles, the kisses on the cheeks, the playful touching of arms and knees.

Her sex life has been severely neglected because of her work. As for the sensual experience of being touched and reciprocated by one's partner… It's been so long. This is a dangerous territory to be in. Chloe doesn't realize what she's treading on.

Slowly and delicately, Beca rests her shaky hands on her best friend's sides and lets them linger there. See what happens. Still with her head cocked to the side, she attempts to control her breathing while her pulse pounds in odd places. At the base of her neck. At the center of her chest. There, in her belly.

Between her thighs.

Beca squirms underneath the weight of her best friend. Only to try freeing herself. "Dude, seriously," she whines. "Please. You're fucking heavy," she lies.

"You're a jerk!" the redhead grumbles into her ear.

Chloe shifts her body sideways with a sigh of irritation. In doing so, however, her leg rubs between Beca's thighs, sending a tingling feeling through Beca's body like a lightning charge. The sensation causes her to arch her back, and she tosses her head back and shuts her eyes... while making an involuntary moaning sound.

"Fuck!"

Her eyelids fight to open, and she has to blink. Looking beside her at Chloe, she sees her cheeks flushed with surprise and amusement, smirking back at her. Beca gulps down as she catches her breath. A moment of silence, then Chloe chortles.

Feeling embarrassed, she spanks the laughing redhead over and over on the butt, making her squeal and giggle uncontrollably. Her skin is turning red from Beca's assault.

"I'm sorry," Chloe sniggers, trying to dodge the hits. "I had no idea how horny you were."

"Gosh! Shut up!"

Beca engages in a short wrestling match with her, during which she struggles to overpower her, all while tickling her best friend. Then they break apart, short of breath.

"Dude," Beca groans when Chloe rolls over to snuggle up to her. "Get dressed, seriously."

"Beca?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever been attracted to another woman before?" Chloe, leaning on her elbow, gently asks as she watches Beca.

Beca can feel her face blanch and quickly averts her gaze. "No, never," she lies again, clearing her throat. "Ha-ha. That would be weird, right?"

"Me, neither," Chloe admits offhandedly, staring down at her fingernails. "It would be really weird, I guess." Then she begins drawing circles on top of Beca's shirt and biting on her bottom lip, speaking softly. "But, I must confess that I did wonder about it once. Like, in college."

"Yeah, I remember when you told me that," Beca laughs uncomfortably, trying to get up, but Chloe's lying on her arm, locking her in place. "You're still a fucking nerd, though. A true psycho. Now, get off me."

Chloe unwillingly lets go of her arm. And Beca knows that her best friend is watching her as she goes back to her desk. She doesn't dare look back.

*,*,*

Beca spends the night on the couch and wakes up to find Chloe has settled back down on top of her—again.

This pattern persisted over the course of a week, with Chloe slinking over to the sofa in the small hours of the night to either lie down next to Beca or on top of her. Beca would stir up from slumber every once in a while, but Chloe would hush her back to sleep each time.

The futility of this was underscored by the fact that Chloe always joined her, necessitating them to share the couch's meager sleeping accommodations. It's not comfortable. They are both tangled together and can't move.

However, Beca's heart is warmed by the sight of Chloe sleeping soundly with her, even if she would never acknowledge as much.

The following morning, they begin their day off early. They have breakfast together, head off to complete their to-do lists, go grocery shopping together, and afterward relax in their own nooks. Chloe is cramming for a test while Beca is composing a track.

"I think this is finished," Beca declares, feeling proud of herself. "We can head to IKEA today. But I need to shower first."

Chloe sighs heavily, not bothering to glance up from her textbook. Last weekend, they didn't go since Beca had to complete her project and Chloe had to prepare for exams. Beca spends half an hour showering and primping before emerging from the bathroom only to find Chloe curled up on the sofa bed.

"Dude, you ready or what?" Beca says, incredulous, as her best friend doesn't budge. She wishes she could get the new furniture without Chloe, but she knows she needs a helping hand to carry everything. And she's too stingy to pay for parcel delivery.

"Can't we do that some other time?" Chloe grumbles and presses her face into her pillow.

"You offered to help me," Beca reminds her, groaning. She walks to the bed and pokes the grouchy woman in the side. "Dude..."

Chloe turns around as a pout appears on her lips, grabbing Beca's hand and yanking her down to lie next to her. Then, she grabs her by her torso and pulls her close, pressing her face onto Beca's shoulder.

"Don't sleep in another bed, Beca," Chloe mumbles and sniffs in an overly theatrical manner as if Beca were moving to a different state or perhaps another country. "I will miss you."

"Chloe, for God's sake…" Beca sighs in frustration. "I'll be sleeping less than 10 feet away from you." She turns her head to look at her best friend. "You said you were fine with that."

"Guess I'm not." Chloe relaxes her grip on her. "It feels strange to sleep alone."

"Gosh, we were sleeping in different bedrooms in college," Because Chloe's face is so close to hers, Beca senses that the heat is returning to her body with full force, permeating her head and warming her ears and cheeks. She looks up at the ceiling, fascinated by its unique pattern. "You were fine with that, too. Right?"

"But I got used to this," Chloe remarks as she tugs at Beca for emphasis. "And it's nice. You have the perfect cuddle size."

Beca grunts in exasperation, effectively shutting out Chloe's mouthwatering scent, which causes her head to spin and makes her want more. She takes a deep breath as if she's trying to get across how annoyed she is, and proceeds, "We should behave like grownups. This kind of nighttime cuddling is not typical for grownups in a non-romantic relationship. We're not in high school anymore, like, this is real life. This isn't a sleepover."

After a moment, Chloe nods in agreement. Without further ado, she rolls on her other side and off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Chloe?" Beca calls. "Gosh, now you're angry?" She gets off the bed and walks to the bathroom door, knocking. "Hello? Talk to me."

Chloe's anger isn't even the worst aspect of this situation. It's the fact that Chloe might be hurt is the thing that bothers Beca the most. Chloe hates social rejection. She hates estrangement. And she might be thinking that Beca wanting her own bed implies that Beca may be feeling that their bond is weakening, and that she is no longer comfortable sleeping beside her.

"Dude, I'm coming in," Beca warns her, knowing that the bathroom door's lock is broken. "Okay, I count to three. One. Two…" Still, Chloe doesn't emerge from the bathroom or even answer. Taking a deep breath, Beca turns the doorknob. "Three."

Beca, jaw-slacked, blinks in utter mortification when she finds Chloe stripped down to her underwear as she's folding her jogging pants together. "I was getting ready," she says in a regular, unaffected voice.

"Why wouldn't you answer, damn it?" Beca slams the door shut, boiling up. "I hate you!"

Chloe follows behind her. "Beca, wait," she says. "Look at me."

Beca doesn't budge, her fists balled up tightly to her sides. "Are you dressed? Because if not, I swear to God…"

"Why won't you look at me anymore?" Chloe snaps. "Turn around."

Beca does as she's told; she turns slowly around. And yep, this woman is—again—exposing so much skin. And it's causing Beca's stomach to flutter. Her breath hitches as she holds eye contact with her best friend. Not daring to let her gaze wander down that body.

"I'll try something," Chloe says gently as she steps forward, "please, don't freak out," she continues as she moves forward further, closing the distance between them. Chloe has always been able to manipulate Beca like a puppet as if she were the master of the strings. From the very beginning. Since she had barged into Beca's shower cubicle and coerced her to sing with her. All nude. And from that point on, Beca blindly followed her everywhere she went. "If nothing happens, I'll let you have your stupid bed."

As if she's the one to decide that.

"W-what do you mean?" Beca stammers, feeling her mouth go dry. It feels like her heart is going a million miles per hour. Chloe is there, staring at her with a mischievous smile on her face. She lays Beca's hands on her hips, and they sink into her bare flesh like they were always meant to be there. In an embrace, her arms move to enfold Beca's neck. "D-Dude… what… Please don't…"

However, she knows from experience that resisting Chloe is pointless.

Chloe moves closer, until their lips meet.

It's just a light kiss. But enough to make Beca's heart skip a beat. Chloe pulls back again, this time smiling. Her normally brilliant blue eyes have darkened as her pupils have dilated, and she's giving Beca the same expression Beca has seen Chloe present in those magazines.

Then, Beca acts on impulse. With both hands, she reaches up and grabs Chloe's head, pulling her back for a passionate kiss. Taking in everything she has to offer while hearing Chloe moan softly. Pulling back to catch their breath, Chloe seems pleasantly surprised.

"God, Beca, I thought you'd never kiss me," she says.

Beca smirks back at her. "And why didn't you just initiate it sooner?"

"Do you think I keep displaying all this for nothing?" Chloe remarks as she gestures down her body, looking cheeky.

"What?!"

Chloe pulls her back for another kiss and a giggling squeal, and the two of them stumble awkwardly onto the sofa bed, their hands exploring each other's bodies and brushing against places they had never touched before, save by accident. Now it's all with purpose. Driven by their lust.

Chloe reclines on the sofa bed and props herself up on her elbows, staring at Beca with heavy eyelids and through her eyelashes. When she catches Chloe's gaze, all sexy and yearning for her, her stomach flutters. It's almost as if the photographs have sprung to life, with the exception that this is truly the version of Chloe that Beca has been drawn to from the beginning, only she didn't realize it until now. Until she's seen those pictures.

Finally, she can have her for real.

Beca pulls her blouse over her head as she moves on top of her best friend and lowers herself onto Chloe, whose eyes widen at the sight of Beca. Instantly afterward, she feels fumbling fingers tugging at the buttons of her pants, bringing them down while a smile appears on her face.

The way Chloe moans at her touch and then tosses her head back in pure pleasure convinces Beca that they do not need an additional bed any longer. Chloe was right.

If ever, it's to get a double bed that doesn't creak nearly as much as this one does.

A/N: Your feedback on this is welcome and appreciated. :)

Who do you believe placed the shoebox with the magazines on Beca's side of the walk-in closet? Did Fat Amy or Chloe put it there on purpose, or did it simply fall there by accident? Did Beca ever mention to Chloe that she saw the magazines? How did that conversation turn out?