A/N: So this was totally not supposed to happen, but because of the multitude of comments and popularity regarding QoW and the "selfish" ;) wishes of Rejection_isnt_failure (on tumblr and ao3, and huge shoutout by the way, I couldn't have worked up the nerve to write this fic without her) combined with my brief moments of thinking of writing some of the snippets of QoW in B/C's POV when it was first constructed, what wasn't supposed to happen did...
Guess I'm a sucker for comments and popular demand :,)
(For those of you who have just stumbled upon this fic, hello and welcome, this can be read as a collection of snippets on its own, or read as a companion to my earlier fic, "The Question of When", which is basically the same thing but in the eyes of the other Bellas. Not to be biased or anything, but I would recommend reading both because you would get the full and 100% bird's eye view experience from all the Bellas involved, and there may or may not be some scenes that I'm gonna include in one but not in the other :))
Disclaimer: I don't own the Pitch Perfect universe.
Chapter summary: The one with the intro and Aubrey, followed the one with the milkshake.
The answer had never been just a specific time and place.
No, that'd never been the answer at all, because if she is someone who is anyone who knew herself at all knew that she had already fallen deeply in love with the other.
Even at times where she had been most skeptical of her abilities to push against her justifiable fears of rejection and come forth and confess her feelings, she had known that somehow, someway, somewhere, in the disorienting lapses of space and time, she had slipped and figured out her intense and oftentimes conflicted feelings, that even if her road had been harder and wilder than most, she had already made it through and fallen in love.
Even at times where she had wished so badly for it to not be true and at times where she had told herself over and over that she was only imagining the electric current sizzling between the pair of them, only imagining the lingering stares burning in the air, she knew that, deep down inside, she herself had already fallen deeply, unreservedly, in love with the other.
So no, the answer had never been just a specific time and place, the answer had already been "Always."
God, she hates Aubrey Posen.
Beca scoffs as she looks—once again—at the message on her phone in the Bellas group chat, the glaring implication of it adding another level of heat into her step as she makes her way down the hall to Aubrey and Chloe's dorm room.
Practice for tomorrow's performance. My and Chloe's room. Now. Everyone has to come. No exceptions.
What the fuck. If she hadn't been already on her way back to her dorm from the radio station, and if Aubrey and Chloe's place weren't already in her path to her destination, she would've ignored the message and not even bothered to stop by and flopped onto her bed to work on some mixes and get ready for the shift the next morning.
Who does the blonde think she is, anyway? She doesn't get to force everyone—her—to give up their evening and pack them up like sardines in an extremely enclosed space and force them to re-rehearse what they had already rehearsed for the stupid performance tomorrow. She had already wasted enough time for that for one day, and has the throat to prove it.
Her hand reaches for the handle, and she swings the door open and stomps into the room, kicking it closed behind her. Her feet carries her over to the huddled Bellas on the floor and she crosses her arms, feeling a frown on her lips as she looks down at the eight pairs of eyes staring up at her, feeling herself linger a second too long on a certain set of bright blue ones before settling on an irritating set of green.
"I don't have time for this, guys. I have to be at the radio station first thing in the morning tomorrow so I really can't be sitting here with all of you singing the night away, especially when I have already done this same exact fucking thing for five hours straight just this afternoon."
It is meant for everyone in the room but she purposely directs it at her "captain", because she couldn't bring herself to direct it at a certain someone else.
The blonde scowls and stands up, and Beca braces herself because she knows that whatever comes out of her mouth is going to be something that she won't like, "Needing to go to work in the morning is your business. Not ours. We have a performance in just twelve hours and if you want to stay as a Bella, you need to suck it up and practice with us till the set is perfect for the stage."
Apparently the brief second she allowed herself was not enough to manage her spike of anger, "I'm not going to risk my work for your stupid girly set any more than I already have. I have done what I had to do and I'm not going to waste any more time tonight reaching for your nonexistent level of perfection. You wouldn't know what perfection is anyway even if it slapped you in the fucking face."
It was true, she had been stopped by Luke that evening as she was packing up her things to leave, and he had told her that he had been expecting her that afternoon when she had called in and explained the situation. She had inwardly cringed at the look on his face and had mentally cursed Aubrey for not letting her go even when she and the Bellas had sung and danced their asses off for five irritating hours.
Aubrey growls at her and storms over, nearly stepping on Stacie and Lily in the process, "If you don't want to put in the effort like the rest of us to properly fulfill the duties of a Barden Bella, Beca Mitchell," she jabs a finger threateningly in her face, "You can see you and your hideous ear monstrosities out the door and never again step foot into the rehearsal room."
Beca has to laugh at that because seriously? If it hadn't been for a bubbly redhead and a steamy shower and an amazing duet and an alluring wink, she wouldn't have even considered joining the Barden fucking Bellas, let alone step feet into the place where it all happens, "Like I ever wanted to be a Barden Bella anyway, Aubrey Posen." She spits out the name and spins on her heel, blood boiling with rage as her feet carry her stiffly and silently back towards the way that she had come, already regretting her decision to drop by.
"Beca." Her name is softly called out in that voice, the one that belonged to the person who has always been able to freeze her in her tracks, "Beca, stay. Please."
For me.
It was unspoken but she didn't need to look at her or physically hear the words to sense its attachment, and her heart leaps to her throat with an emotion that she couldn't bear to decipher, the anger in her veins simmering down to a soothing pulse before fading entirely.
She closes her eyes and drops her forehead to the door, and allows the silence to envelop her as she fights for the necessity to go back to her dorm and rest for the upcoming day, the urge to answer the plea coating her voice as a determined opponent.
Fuck, she didn't want it to amount to this.
She shouldn't, but the blasted organ still pounding in her throat says otherwise.
"Fine," she hears herself sigh in defeat against the wood, and god damn it, how is it that she can feel the smile spreading across her lips at the single word?
She slowly turns around and makes her way back towards the group, this time walking, drawing out the time she had left because she is pathetic and she couldn't believe that she had just given up her night for her, and she stops at the edge once again, feeling bright blue eyes locked onto her every move, and surveys the group before her.
"There's nowhere for me to sit," she notes, eyeing at the way Jessica and Ashley are practically the meat between the women sandwich of her and Cynthia Rose.
"Come here," is the immediate reply, and for the first time since she had opened her mouth since entering the room, Beca looks at her, catching the pat that is enthusiastically given at the space between her open legs.
She hesitates, because surely what she is suggesting is in no way whatsoever good for her mental or emotional health, but then the twinkle in her gaze is too intense and the delight on her face is too contagious, and she's done for.
She dazedly excuses herself to the Bellas in her way and practically stumbles over, and lowers herself into her designated spot. Her knees seem to pull into her chest of their own accord, as if they knew what would come next and are excited for it, which indeed happens not even a second later, in the form of Chloe wrapping her arms around her small frame, scooting them both backwards into the leg of a desk.
Beca can then feel the soft mounds of the redhead's chest flush up against the muscles of her back, her long pale shorts-clad legs encircle her huddled body, and she's thinking that while she had grimaced at the idea of being packed like sardines with the rest of the Bellas, if that came with her being the tree to a warm vanilla perfumed koala bear, she can deal with it.
But god, she fucking hates Chloe Beale though, because of what she can do to her.
But maybe that is because there's a saying out there that says that there's a very fine line between love and hate.
"Why couldn't you get someone else to carry the milkshakes with you?," Beca whines as Chloe drags them to the nearest fast food place on campus, taking extra care to not trip on the rocks on the pathway in her haste to catch up with the redhead, who is happily skipping ahead.
Chloe throws a glance over her shoulder at her and winks, the bright sunlight overhead catching onto her flaming red curls, "None of them would've made as good a company as you, Becs."
Beca's heart flutters in her chest and she looks away, telling herself the pink in her cheeks is from the sweltering heat of the sun. How does she always know what to say? "Yeah, well, I bet you'll change your mind very soon when you find out that I'm really not gonna order myself a milkshake in this dry weather, especially after what Aubrey had made us do for practice."
Chloe just hums and continues on her way, but Beca is pretty sure that the redhead is mumbling something under her breath along the lines of: "We'll see about that."
Beca frowns, but she doesn't get the chance to retort because they have reached their destination and Chloe is pushing open the door, the bell hanging over the door frame jingling their arrival. She lets herself get tugged to the front counter and stands by, waiting for Chloe to finish giving the guy behind the counter the orders from the Bellas that she had somehow memorized at the top of her head, and she looks around the small restaurant and rolls her eyes at how there aren't hardly any people there, besides the dude with the weird ass haircut playing on his phone in the corner booth and the blonde chick staring out the window just inside the door, twirling her hair and popping a bubble out of her gum.
She can't believe Chloe wants a stupid milkshake in a weather like this, when everyone else seems to have the sense to not order something that would only aggravate their thirst. It's common knowledge that milkshakes—aka melted ice cream—is not a good beverage to have in the middle of a scorching early afternoon, when ice cold water is a complete necessity, and if that wasn't incredulous enough, in the middle of an aftermath of a horribly gruesome acapella practice (whoever says singing and dancing for hours on end is not exercise must have lost his shit), where she has the sweaty neck and sticky jeans to prove it.
"Uh huh, and I'll have a strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream please."
Chloe's cheerful voice pulls Beca out of her thoughts, and she returns her attention to the redhead to find her leaning on the counter, watching intently at the guy with the company branded blue shirt behind the register as he types up her order on the small computer screen, her auburn brows furrowing in concentration as she silently mouthed the words flashing back at her at the accompanying customer facing one, her fingers drumming against the clasp of her wallet with every milkshake flavor—with every Bella—that passes by.
"Will that be all for today, Chloe?"
Beca is taken aback at the friendly address and the apparent introduction that her fellow Bella had made with—she squints at his name tag—Carter, without her notice. A scowl unfurls on her lips as a spark of something suspiciously close to irritation ignites in the pit of her stomach, and she huffs and crosses her arms as she awaits Chloe's reply.
"Yep!" Chloe's grin is cheeky and flirty and the spark within her grows into a fire, and Beca gets the sudden irrational urge to sock the guy in his stupid little face, "That'll be all!"
"Cool, the total will be—"
"Wait, I'm sorry," Chloe interrupts, and both Beca and the guy with his ugly company shirt spins around to look at her. The redhead worries at her lip and drops her gaze briefly to her hands still working a rhythm on the countertop before continuing, "You got the one with the chocolate and rainbow sprinkles down already, right?"
"Yes, sure did." He nods in confirmation but Beca barely heard because isn't that…?
"Awes," she's practically beaming now, and the unexpected moment of complete shock quickly morphs back into a crackling fire of resentment, "Then that'd be it for today, Carter."
Beca's entire body seems to tense up and crack down at the same time at the sight of the wink Chloe sends him, and her arms tighten into vines against her chest and her feet reduces to tapping furious beats on the tiled floor as she stews, glaring at the total popping up onto the ridiculously tiny screen.
"Awesome. Your total will be thirty six, thirty nine, and your order will be out shortly."
And as Chloe finally exchanges the money with the guy wearing the stupid fucking company logo across his stupid fucking chest, as the guy undeserving of Chloe's affections finally stalks away into the kitchen to help prepare for their drinks, Beca turns her glare onto the now bouncing redhead besides her, "I told you, I didn't want a milkshake."
Her grumble has no effect whatsoever and Chloe just shrugs, the heels of her feet coming inches off the floor as she expressed her uncontained excitement, "It wouldn't be yours if you don't want it to be, and I can always just give it to the lovely Carter over there for having the patience to ring up nine complicated orders."
"What?!" Beca sputters, her arms uncrossing to point a shaky finger towards the guy shaking and spraying the whipped cream in the kitchen, "You're gonna give my drink to him?"
Chloe props her head up with one hand and blinks at her from beneath her lashes, "Well, it wouldn't be your drink if you didn't want it, would it? And if that's really the case," she sighs, glancing back towards the potential thief of her milkshake, "It would be a total waste to not let someone else have it."
Beca had never really gotten the point of a tantrum, the emotion and frustration and helplessness strong enough for one to initiate it, until now.
She refrains however, even though every fiber of her being is literally screaming with rage, and she closes her eyes and takes a deep long breath to calm herself down—at least to the point where she doesn't feel like picking up the tip jar sitting in front of her and chucking it across the room—and by the time her heartbeat had slowed down from its dangerously explosive rate and her fingers had stopped vibrating, the beverages are done and Chloe is thanking Carton as he placed two drink carriers on the countertop.
Beca snaps her eyes back open and lunges forward and snatches up the container with the dark concoction covered with colorful sprinkles, ignoring the raised eyebrow Chloe is undoubtedly throwing at her as she pops the straw and sticks it in and raises the container to her lips, and her other hand swipes up one of the carriers off the counter and then she's spinning on her heels and walking briskly to the door before the first sip of thick chocolate had even melted on her tongue.
"What're you waiting for, Chlo? Come on, let's go!"
And later on, when Beca got tired of the heavy richness sliding down her already parched throat, she asks to take a sip of Chloe's, and ends up finishing the redhead's shake within minutes, the smooth creaminess of the sweet strawberry effectively putting an end to her thirst like nothing else ever did in her entire life.
Guess she was wrong about milkshakes being a senseless remedy to satisfy one's need for water on a sunny early afternoon after all.
A/N: So I've decided to post only a couple or so snippets at a time, just so I won't overthink and re-edit each one like five million times as they sit in my phone/computer as I finish the others. This is the first couple and I'm gonna post the next when they're done.
Let me know what you think! (aka whether or not I have completely screwed this up and ruined your beautiful imaginations of the behind the scenes of QoW :))
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