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Chapter One

The first thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me is finding a Christmas tree.

"Guys, I got the tree." Beca lugs the cardboard box through the front door. "Don't everyone jump up to help me at once." They don't. She drags it across the room and sits it upright directly in front of the television their eyes are glued to. "The chore chart said 'Beca, buy the tree, not Beca set it up, so…" She looks at Stacie, Fat Amy, and Emily. "Volunteers?"

"Where is it?" Emily asks.

Where is it? Beca poses dramatically beside the box, gesturing to it with both hands. Blank stares meet her in response.

"Behind the box?" Fat Amy guesses.

"How would it get behind the box?" Stacie asks.

Exactly.

"It must be outside," Emily says and stands up, "I'm on it, Beca."

"No!" Beca snaps, still slightly irritable from the lines at Target. She clears her throat and plasters on a smile. "No, it's in the box." She realizes the back is facing them and turns it around so they can see the picture of what the tree is supposed to look like on the front. "See? Tree."

"Please, tell me our Christmas tree doesn't look like Charlie Brown's," Emily says, staring at the box.

"It looks like this." Beca jams her finger against the picture of the tree. "It's supposed to be," she scans the box, reading the dimensions, "seven feet tall."

"Beca…" Fat Amy says slowly, "You can't fit a seven foot tree into a four foot box."

"I assume it comes in pieces," Beca says, still examining the box, "Someone just has to put them together." She looks at Emily.

"So, it's not real," Emily states.

"Does it look real to you?" Beca asks.

Stacie picks up the remote and pauses whatever they were watching. "Why didn't you go to the tree farm?"

Beca's eyebrows nearly rise to the top of her forehead. "Because the tree farm is nearly thirty miles away," she answers, "And if we buy a tree there, it's going to die and they're going to have to buy a new one next year. This one can be used over and over for years to come." Also, she has PTSD from going to the tree farm with Aubrey a few years prior, and listening to her Country Christmas playlist on Spotify the entire way there and back.

"Chloe is going to kill you," Stacie informs her.

Not before Beca kills the three of them. "Is she home right now?" she asks. If anyone is going to stick up for her and her tree, it's going to be Chloe – who had been supposed to go with Aubrey that one time, but got lucky and ended up with bronchitis. She looks in the direction of the stairs. "Chloe?!" There is a moment of silence before Beca can hear the sound of her footsteps walking across the hall above them then down the steps.

"Hey, Becs." Chloe walks into the room with a grin, carrying a steaming cup of hot chocolate in both hands, "Did you get the tree?"

"Uh, yeah," Beca says, but before she can say anything else, Chloe is talking again.

"Where is it?" she asks, "Outside? Do you need help getting it in?"

"It's right here." Beca smiles wide and points at the box with the giant fucking picture of a Christmas tree on it for the one-hundredth time. "Someone just has to set it up."

"What?" Chloe asks and looks at the box with a perplexed frown. She moves in closer and walks in a circle around it. "You're joking, right?" She smiles again. "Very funny. Seriously, is it outside?"

Beca puffs out her cheeks and ignores the 'told you so' smiles from the other three girls. "Buying a real tree is pointless," she voices finally, "Someone has to clean up the needles and you have to buy another one every year. Spray this one with some pine air freshener, and the Bellas are set until literally forever." She looks at Emily. "You should like this idea."

Chloe opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it again and places her mug on the coffee table. She grabs Beca by the arm and all but drags her back out the front door. "We always set up a real tree, Beca," she tells her before she even stops walking, "It's tradition."

"And you started caring about 'tradition' before or after everything that happened in the past years?" Beca responds.

"Christmas tradition and set list tradition are very different," Chloe informs her, and Beca almost wants to know how, "You have to take it back."

"You want me to go all the way back to stand in a mile long line at Target to return a perfectly good tree?" Beca confirms. She has to be kidding.

Chloe nods – serious.

"Dude, I will set that tree up in my room, if I have to," Beca defends her tree.

"Fine," Chloe agrees, "That'll give you more time to go to the tree farm anyway. If we leave now, we can still get there tonight." She drags Beca halfway back inside to put on her shoes and her jacket. "I should have gone with you. I thought that you could handle it."

"I could – I did handle it." Beca glances in at her boxed tree. Everything during the holidays was supposed to be better in a box, right? Gifts came in boxes. Candy canes. Chocolates. If there was anything she learned working retail during high school, it was that everyone who went shopping demanded to take home fifty gift boxes for each one item. "Fat Amy, could you just…" She motions up and down at the box. "Take my tree up to our room." She wants to say something to preserve her dignity, but Chloe is quickly ushering her out the door and back to the car.

xxxxx

"What do you so have against trees?" Chloe asks after half a car ride of silently making Beca think she's pissed at her.

Beca looks up from fiddling with her phone. "Nothing. Literally nothing," she says quickly, "Trees are great. They give us oxygen, which keeps us alive, which is why they should be alive, and not dead in the middle of our living room." So, maybe saving the world hadn't quite been her thought process when she turned on the exit to go to Target, but it was a great excuse.

Chloe glances at her before returning her gaze to the road. Silent. Again.

"Are you mad?" Beca decides to ask.

"What?" Chloe asks, sounding baffled. A small smile crosses her lips and she glances at Beca again. "No. Why would I be mad?"

"Because we have to go all the way to the tree farm when we should already have a tree?" Beca suggests.

"I love the tree farm."

"But you didn't want to go…" It's Beca's turn to be perplexed.

"That isn't the job I pulled," Chloe reminds her, "And you didn't invite me."

Beca turns in her seat – well, as far as she can go with her seatbelt on – and stares at her. Didn't invite her? Didn't invite Chloe Beale? Chloe, who accosted her naked in the shower and routinely bursts into her room without even so much as a knock? Chloe who just dragged her out the door and into the car? Needs an invitation? "Seriously?"

"Well, you didn't," Chloe says, "I figured you wanted to go alone, since last time you had to do it, you weren't exactly happy with the company."

"I can turn on some Dixie Chicks Christmas music." Beca smirks and reaches for the radio. "Show you what I had to go through."

"Stop." Chloe grins and smacks her fingers away from buttons. "You know she's going to be here in a few days, right?"

Beca's hand falls to her lap.

"I didn't tell you?"

"No."

"I must have forgot," Chloe says, still grinning.

"Whyis she coming?" Beca dares to ask.

"Because she's my best friend," Chloe answers, "And her dad is overseas again. She can't spend the entire holiday alone."

Technically, she could… Beca sighs and feign her best enthusiastic face. "Is that why we need a real tree?"

"We need a real tree, because it's Christmas," Chloe answers. She digs her phone out of her pocket and tosses it at Beca's lap. "Now find us some Christmas tunes."

xxxxx

"Do you need to rent an axe?" A buff guy in front of a rickety looking shed asks them.

"To rent an axe?" Beca repeats to make sure she heard him correctly, "Why would I need to rent an axe?"

"We want a pre-cut tree," Chloe informs him in a much sweeter tone.

The guy points to a sign on the shed that says 'Pre-Cut Trees: SOLD OUT!' "Do you need to rent an axe?" he repeats.

"Can we rent a lumberjack too?" Beca inquires. She looks at Chloe. "We can come back…" she says then turns her attention back to the man, "When are you going to have more trees?"

"Got plenty of trees," he says and motions toward the rows of pine trees.

Beca smiles and imagines taking an axe to him.

"How hard can it be to cut down a tree?" Chloe asks after a moment.

"In case you haven't noticed, neither of us exactly have the body of Paul Bunyan," Beca points out, "We can come back when they have more trees cut down." Or, better yet, use the tree she already purchased.

Chloe seems to be debating it – worrying her lower lip between her teeth, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Okay…"

Beca lifts her hand to wave goodbye to the of-no-help tree associate, when Chloe keeps speaking.

"We'll rent an axe." Chloe looks at Beca. "We have a lot to do. What if we can't find time to come back?"

Beca's eyes nearly bug out of her head, and she pulls her jacket tighter around her body. "We use the fake tree." How many times does she have to say it?

"A fake tree?" the tree guy mutters.

"Stay out of this," Beca snaps without so much as looking at him, "Chlo, neither of us know how to chop down a tree."

"I imagine you just hit it with the sharp end of the blade," Chloe replies.

"You have a smart girlfriend," tree guy says, "You should listen to her."

This time, Beca shoots him a glare – watching him as he opens the shed and pulls out one of the axes. "My girlfriend?" she asks.

"I just assumed with the arguing and all…" He offers her the axe.

"Oh no, this is all her." Beca puts her hands in the air, palms flat, and takes a few steps back.

"Thanks." Chloe takes the axe out of his hand and immediately stumbles under the weight. She quickly rights herself and the axe, and lifts her chin as she looks at Beca.

This is going to be a disaster. Someone is going to get hit with the axe. Beca just hopes it's herself. Neither of them move, both of them staring at each other, waiting. It's Beca who finally lifts her shoulders and motions around them. "Now what?"

"You pick a tree," Chloe says simply.

That's easy enough. Beca points to the nearest one of her right. "That one."

Chloe looks at it, and her face scrunches up. "Beca, that tree is like 20 feet tall."

What? Beca turns to the right. She has to tilt her head back to see the top of the nearest tree. It grew that tall on purpose – probably while no one was watching and it realized it could seize the opportunity to make her life more difficult. "The shorter one behind it then," she says, being purposely non-specific. Maybe then Chloe will see one of the correct height and assume she means that one.

"I don't see anything we're going to fit in the house here, Beca. We have to look around."

"Maybe they're out of short trees too." Beca looks hopefully at the tree guy.

"Nope. Got plenty of those," he assures, "Just gotta find them. We got our tall trees, medium trees, short trees. We even got some midget trees." He nods in Beca's direction. "Those are about your height."

Again. They could just hit him with the axe and display him in the living room. Any other time, Beca would have turned and marched herself back to the car. But not this time. She can't, not when Chloe is standing in front of her, axe in hand, looking so expectant and kind of excited. She's not going to drag a disappointed Chloe back home with her; she's not a monster. She'd rather be hit by the axe. "Fine, we'll pick a tree," she concedes.

Chloe grins wide and squeezes the axe handle.

"Let's just makes it quick."

xxxxx

Chloe examines every tree they pass – the big, the small, the lopsided, the one that definitely is not a pine tree.

"How about that one?" Beca asks. It's the right height, not too bent over.

"It's too wide," Chloe says, "It'll never fit through the door."

The worst part about Chloe's argument is that she's right. Beca moves down the row to the next tree. It's thinner, but it lacks needles. She moves to the next next one. Clearly, all the good ones were picked and chopped down and sold, but she doesn't dare say that out loud. "This one?"

Chloe walks up beside her and takes one of her gloves off to feel the needles on the tree.

Beca holds her breath. It feels like she's one number away from knowing if she won the power ball.

"I like it."

She breathes. "Great." That's the understatement of the year. "Now we just need to cut it down."

"It can't be hard. I mean, we just swing the axe, right?" Chloe lifts the axe up a few inches off the ground and angles her body toward the tree.

Seems logical enough. Beca takes several giant steps back.

"You afraid I'm going to hit you?" Chloe looks back at her.

"I'm afraid it's going to fall on me," Beca mumbles. That, and she's known Chloe long enough now to see just how 'coordinated' she is outside of A Cappella. She's basically a walking infomercial. "Hit it."

Chloe swings the axe, and it hits the tree, barely making a dent in the bark. She swings again. "I think our tree is Titanium." She sends a smirk and a wink in Beca's direction. Tiny pieces of wood fly from her next hit, eliciting a shocked 'oh' sound from her.

Nope, not Titanium. Just wood. "Good job," Beca urges her on.

Chloe chops away at the tree with ease – cutting through at least two splinter sized pieces of wood at a time.

"Did you bring a flashlight?" Beca asks.

"No." Chloe swings again. "Why?"

"Because we might be here all night."

"Maybe you should be cutting it down," Chloe says, "You are the one wearing plaid."

"Under my jacket."

"So, take it off."

The suggestive tone of her voice is something Beca has started to get used to, but it still finds a way to get under her skin in a way she can't explain. "It's the middle of winter."

"I'll warm you up," Chloe offers.

"Dude, chop the tree!"

"Okay, okay." Chloe starts swinging again. "This was supposed to be your job."

Her job. Beca did her job. She stuffs her hands into her pockets and leans against a tree next to her. This whole 'real tree' thing has to do with Aubrey. She just knows it. Because wherever Beca fails to meet expectations, either Aubrey or Beca's father is somewhere in the vicinity with their unrealistic ideals. They practically set her up for failure!

"When you're finished brooding, I think you should at least take one swing so you can say you put in some sort of effort," Chloe comments in an absent, possibly joking way?

Seriously…? "Or how about I help you with your job and we call it even?"

Chloe is quiet for a moment and looks up at the sky like she has to contemplate this.

Beca raises her eyebrows.

"Deal."

Great. Beca only has one question. "…what's your job?"

xxxxx

"Aubrey said do it this way."

"Since when do you listen to what Aubrey says?" Chloe asks.

"Since our tree didn't fall off the roof of the car when she did it," Beca replies.

"Hey, ladies!"

Beca looks away from trying to bungee cord the tree to the car at the man from the shed. He's still standing in the same exact spot – only now there are a few other men with him, dragging trees off the back of a pickup truck.

"Got a few pre-cut trees now if you don't like the one you got," he says, "You wanna come take a look?"

Beca rests her forehead against the car for a second, then turns to look at him again with a smile stretched tighter than the bungee cords wrapped around the roof.

"I'm not sure yours is going to stand," he keeps talking, looking at the jagged bottom of their tree, "Got some real nice ones over here though."

After all that… "Dude, I would die in the name of this tree." Beca fixes the last bungee cord then gets in the car and slams the door behind her.

"That's the Christmas spirit!" Chloe gets in the car with her.

"This tree," Beca tells her, "…better stand up."

"It will," Chloe assures her, "If not, we'll figure out how to make it stand."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"My dad says you can fix anything with some rope and some duct tape."

xxxxx

"It looks…adorable in a fixer upper sort of way," Emily tries to make light of the situation at hand.

"At least it looks like Jesus," Flo says.

"Yeah, when he died," Stacie chimes in, "Isn't Christmas when he was born?"

"Does anyone else feel like they're attending some sort of pagan ritual right now?" Cynthia-Rose asks.

The tree didn't stand – so someone (Amy) had the bright idea that instead of placing it on the floor, they could hang it from the ceiling. And when that didn't work, it came down to hanging it from the ceiling fan. So, using rope and duct tape, Lilly tethered together branches on two sides that now look like arms, and tied it to the blades, with a third rope attaching the top to the ceiling light.

Turn on the fan and…well…there's too much happening for Beca to reference any one thing. It looks something like if Paul Bunyan wanted to film a holiday crossover between Twister and The Passion of the Christ (TW for suicide by hanging).

"I like it," Chloe says.

Beca stares at her with an expression that reads exactly how she feels – like hanging herself from the ceiling fan too. "You like this over my perfectly fine tree from Target?"

Chloe smiles. "It's unique."

"I'm going to bed before God smites all of you," Beca announces and steps away from the pagan ritual circle they're making around the coffee table.

They all respond with some variation of goodnight.

"I have a whole entire normal tree in a box that we could put up." Beca backs up toward the stairs. "I think it even comes with pine scented air freshener."

"Oh, Beca…" Fat Amy calls after her, and Beca stops on the bottom step, "Can you maybe just keep your tree on your half of the room? I need my space."

"Half your shit is on my side of the room," Beca reminds her.

"Only the stuff I threw while Bumper and I-"

"My side of the room. Got it."

They all fall silent.

"So, that's it then? This is our tree?"

Yeah. Okay. Great. Beca's job is done and they have a tree.