Beca isn't quite sure when this started. She knows how it happened, when it happened and where. It's just the initial jumping-off point that she can't pin down.

They'd both been working a lot, Chloe at the vet clinic, Beca at the studio, and Chloe had arrived home one evening with not one but two bottles of wine and a determined look in her eyes. They deserved it, she'd said, they'd earned a break. Neither of them worked the next day and so Chloe had argued that any hangovers could be nursed gently and quietly.

"Easy for you to say, you don't get hungover," Beca had reminded her, but at that point, Chloe was already pulling two wine glasses down out of the cupboard and Beca knew any objections were going to fall on deaf ears.

It had been a while since either of them had indulged in more than a glass at dinner and so it didn't take long for that pleasant buzz of inebriation to wash over them as they lounged on the bed.

Alcohol had always made Chloe affectionate on a new level. Personal space evaporated completely and her touches became even more frequent than was the norm, and they lingered. None of this was news to Beca. She'd found all this out years prior and it was something she'd grown, if not used to, then accustomed to. She expected it. Never being the one to offer up physical affection, she'd grown into the skin of someone who people expected to be standoffish about such things, and so she grimaced appropriately whenever she was pulled into a hug and rolled her eyes when Chloe would lean on her too heavily.

It was partly real discomfort (although distant now) and partly for show, but she only really had to call on that version of herself when there was a crowd around her. It was like a safety blanket, one that stopped people from getting too close.

But that night with Chloe, there'd been no need to pull the blanket down from the top of their non-existent closet. Chloe's touches made Beca feel warm and it was just the two of them, enjoying drinks and laughing at fond memories. At the unbelievable and outrageous things they'd either done or had happen to them during their time at Barden.

It was a conversation that inevitably took them back several years and shoved them both into a shower stall. Chloe had jabbed Beca in the shoulder until she joined her in another rendition of 'Titanium' and Beca finished off the rest of her glass while Chloe reminisced about Tom and how nice and easy it had been to have someone to casually hook up with back then.

And then Beca, wine-addled and pouring herself yet another glass, asked Chloe why it was so different now. Why she couldn't just find someone to booty call and wasn't that what Tinder was for. She doubted Chloe would have trouble landing someone who wanted to sleep with her.

Chloe explained that she didn't feel as comfortable with the idea of casual sex with a random stranger as she had back then. Being in university allowed a person some leeway when it came to making stupid decisions, but as a Real Adult enrolled in veterinarian school, Chloe felt a little strange about the idea now.

Which she'd said was a shame because she hadn't gotten laid in months and what with the stress of school tightening every muscle in her body, it would have been nice to have someone help her relieve that tension.

"I still think you should do it. Hit up Tom, you know him. He- he'll probably be down," Beca said, words a little slurred as she took another sip of wine.

"Tom lives in Miami," Chloe pointed out with a chuckle. "And I haven't really made any friends at vet school yet, so unless you're volunteering, Miss Mitchell…." The words trailed off as Chloe's smirk of a smile became obscured by her own wine glass.

And it was supposed to be a joke, Beca is sure of that, but at the time her mind didn't really register it that way. At the time, it seemed like Chloe had just suggested a perfect solution to the problem - one Beca herself had also been experiencing, not that she wanted to air that information - and so she'd shifted onto her knees where she'd been sitting at the foot of the bed and crawled up until she could place her glass beside the half-empty second bottle on the bedside table. Then she'd swivelled her body around to crawl the short distance to Chloe, who was gazing at Beca curiously and idly thumbing the rim of her glass, her head tilted a little to one side like an intrigued puppy.

She'd hovered over Chloe for a few long seconds, watching as sky blue eyes flickered across her features, until she realised that Chloe was waiting. Wasn't saying no or laughing anything off. No, she was waiting for Beca to do something, anything, whatever she had planned.

Only Beca hadn't planned for this.

The first kiss was hurried and chaste, a simple press of Beca's mouth to Chloe's that had enough pressure behind it to ensure the intent came across. It wasn't an accident, it wasn't a quick peck, it was a potential starting point, should Chloe want to press play. When Beca pulled back they stared at one another, chests rising and falling almost in sync, already somehow breathless, and Beca wished she could read the look on Chloe's face.

But in the end, she didn't need to. Chloe lifted her hand to tuck Beca's hair behind her ear and the smile Chloe gave her told Beca all she needed to know.

The second kiss was hesitant and explorative. A gentle press of lips that slowly blossomed into something deeper, like a flower opening up to reveal its colours. They didn't really talk, didn't ask if the other was sure or if they should stop. They were riding the same wave and revelling in the unexpected ease of passion that was leading them, blind but willing, towards something.

Hands tugged at clothing as kisses turned frantic, mouths finding purchase on newly revealed skin. The apartment darkened around them, filling up with shadows and the sounds of sex.

It had been a bumbling affair, riddled with laughter and peppered with a lack of coordination, but they'd both managed to pull it together in the end. Giving each other a release that left them both boneless and breathless, and ready for sleep.

The morning after had been awkward for all of five minutes before Chloe cracked a joke and sat up so that the sheets fell away from her body. They'd ended up too distracted to be embarrassed by anything after that.

It's a habit they've fallen into with frightening ease.

What was, Beca's sure, meant as an occasional helping hand to scratch an itch they couldn't quite satisfy themselves has rapidly turned into an almost nightly occurrence, hindered only by Amy's tendency to stay late into the evening before retiring to her own apartment across the hall. Once she did finally leave, the door was locked and chained - Amy had somehow ended up with her own key to their place - and one of them would inevitably jump the other, pressing them hard into the door or wall, or whatever was nearby and sturdy enough to support their weight.

It's not something Beca had ever envisioned herself doing, the whole 'friends with benefits' thing. She didn't think there was anything wrong with it, she just never saw herself as someone who would end up in that kind of partnership. Especially not with another woman. That isn't even the strange part, though.

The strange part about everything is how normal it all feels.

It makes Beca wonder if they've been building toward this for a while. Makes her wonder when it started. Because it had to have been before that first night, it couldn't have just been the wine. This was all too easy, like being on a road trip she didn't need a map to navigate, even though she's never been to any of these places before.

She should probably feel lost, scared maybe.

But she doesn't.

She's kinda just excited for the journey.