The email that had first announced the upcoming arrival of the representative of corporate headquarters' Oversight Committee had stated that the review would take place at least two weeks, but not longer than a month. By the time Stacie had run into Aubrey in the elevator, the Oversight representative had been in Philadelphia for at least a week.

Which should mean they only had less than a week left.

But Stacie knew differently the moment the email came down that the documentation process would be reviewed by the Oversight Committee.

The documentation process that included the piles of documents that were being checked by their summer interns.

Stacie wondered if this technically changed Aubrey's belief about being on separate chains of command.

Aubrey scowled when Stacie mentioned it, the sandwich in her hands nearly decimated by how tightly she was holding it. "Don't start."

Stacie grinned. "Touchy subject?"

"The universe hates me." Aubrey muttered, before she took a bite of her sandwich.

They were having lunch in Aubrey's office – officially the room designated for visiting executives, and it still blew Stacie's mind to think of her former Bellas captain as an executive – and Stacie took note of the piles of binders stacked beside the couch they were occupying (why a visiting executive would need a couch in their office was a concept Stacie chose to ignore for the moment), and wondered just what, exactly, Aubrey did for the company.

"Other than being a pain in the ass, what exactly do you do for the company?" Stacie asked.

Aubrey sighed heavily. "Whatever they tell me to."

"That…" Stacie had no idea what that meant.

Aubrey glanced at her. "You signed a non-disclosure, right?"

"That lengthy contract that says I can't do or say anything about the company to anyone I know?" Stacie asked. "Signed and initialed."

Aubrey smiled wryly. "Oversight is like the top bracket of Operations. Anything that goes on in the company – the group of companies, actually – we're in charge. We make sure every gear is working in the well-oiled machine that is the corporate hierarchy. I usually deal with personnel management and development; like if a high-level client wants a team to have a special set of skills – not CIA 'special set of skills', don't get excited – we cover that instead of going through the usual Human Resources route."

Stacie had momentarily forgotten about the sandwich in her hand, frozen halfway to her open mouth, until a pickle fell out, startling her. She picked it up and placed it in a napkin, before turning back to Aubrey. "So… you're kind of hot stuff."

"That's what they tell me." Aubrey agreed.

"But when you say 'review'…"

Aubrey grimaced.

Stacie frowned. "Damn."

"So you can imagine the joy and thrill on the faces of people when they realize someone from Oversight is coming to visit." Aubrey noted dryly.

"Not good?"

"It's like Christiane Amanpour showing up in conflict areas."

"I have no idea who that is." Stacie admitted, but before Aubrey could explain, she asked, "But do you like your job?"

"When it's development and training, yes. Workforce management is my jam." Aubrey smiled brightly.

Stacie grimaced at Aubrey's use of slang terms.

Aubrey frowned. "What? No?"

Stacie shook her head.

"Whatever." Aubrey shook her head. "There's a special place in workforce development for people who enjoy bending people's will."

"Your personal niche."

"That's what I'd like to think." Aubrey agreed.

Stacie smiled, happy that Aubrey hadn't fallen into the usual pit of despair of loathing her job but needing the paycheck. "So it seems you're doing well for yourself."

Aubrey shrugged.

"How'd you get a high-ranking job in such a short time?"

"Luck and a serious amount of overtime." Aubrey grumbled.

"Uh huh. And... do you wanna tell me why you've been avoiding the Bellas for the past year?" Stacie asked, in the worst segue in history, not bothering to mince words or risk being misunderstood. For Stacie, the facts were simple: Aubrey had graduated from Barden University, left, and save for the occasional phone call, hadn't really been seen – and barely heard from - since.

"Not the past year..." Aubrey hedged.

"Word play." Stacie waved the protest off.

"You mean semantics?" Aubrey asked.

"You know what I mean." Stacie retorted.

"I called."

"Yeah, at first. But for the past few months it's been like playing Ten Words or Less with you." Stacie accused, which was more or less the amount of words each phone call with Aubrey consisted of. "And we went through three rounds of ICCA contests, we did a winter series of concerts and a summer tour, we sang the national anthem at two different sporting events, and not once did you show up to a Barden Bellas event." She gave Aubrey a questioning look. "Why is that?"

Aubrey shook her head. "I was busy."

Stacie frowned at her, disapprovingly. "Oh, that's how you want to play it?"

Aubrey frowned in confusion.

Stacie met her gaze evenly, daring the other woman to look away. "Corporate headquarters are in New York."

Bingo.

Aubrey glanced away, her gaze skittering to her desk where her laptop lay in wait, hoping for a new email, an incoming conference call, anything, to let her out of this conversation.

"And here we all thought you left Barden for Chicago." Stacie continued. "Imagine how everyone's going to react when I tell them you lied."

Aubrey turned back to her, defensive. "I went to Chicago. I didn't stay because the company sent me to New York. I didn't lie."

"So why doesn't anybody know?"

"I told Chloe." Aubrey objected. "I swear I told Chloe."

Stacie frowned, momentarily thrown off her argument. "When?"

"When I left Chicago. When I told you I had to travel a lot for my job. I told you I was leaving Chicago." Aubrey argued.

Stacie hesitated, trying to recall when that could have happened. And she faintly remembered Chloe complaining that they should cancel their concert in Chicago for their winter tour because Aubrey wasn't going to be in town at the time, which had been the whole reason why they had even planned that stop. "I think… I think we always just thought those two things were related. You travel a lot; you weren't going to be in Chicago."

"That's not my fault." Aubrey quickly asserted.

"Okay, fair." Stacie acquiesced. "But if you were in New York, why weren't you at the finals of the ICCAs?"

Aubrey froze, eyes widening, before she quickly glanced away.

Shit.

Shit.

Stacie stared at the blonde, taking in the stiff posture, the reluctance to meet her eyes, the firm set of her jaw. She verbalized what was going through both their minds. "Shit." Dreading the answer, Stacie asked slowly, "You were there, weren't you?"

The stiff countenance lasted a long beat after before Aubrey sighed, her posture sagging, and she reluctantly turned to look at Stacie. "It's kind of hard to ignore an event I spent four years of my life working towards each year. And I wanted to see the Bellas win again."

Now Stacie was just confused. They had all just assumed that Aubrey had written them off when she remained noncommittal about showing up at Bella events. "Why didn't we know?"

"You didn't have to." Aubrey shrugged, in an exaggerated show of nonchalance, as if it was nothing for her to have been present at the ICCA finals and not have her friends know. "You won. Blew away competition, showed them last year wasn't a fluke."

"But why didn't you even…" Stacie frowned. "We would have liked to see you." More quietly, she added, "I would have liked to see you."

There was a long pause, a long moment of the two of them looking at each other from opposite ends of the couch: Stacie searching Aubrey's expression for answers, and Aubrey discerning if she wanted to answer Stacie.

Finally, Aubrey answered. "You were busy."

What did that even-

"I think he was from the group from Berkeley." Aubrey continued, her voice flat with forced, unnerving calm.

Crap.

"Unless it was his twin brother from San Diego…"

Shit.

"I saw one of them with another girl, so at least I know you didn't have both of them…"

"Okay. Stop." Stacie interrupted, annoyed. But it was the kind of annoyance that came from having your faults pointed out to you, and you knew you weren't in the position to be defensive. So anger became the default. "You've made your point."

Aubrey sighed in concession. "It wasn't just you, okay? Chloe was third-wheeling with Beca and her boyfriend, and everyone was hanging out with the Treblemakers, and even Bumper was there. Honestly, I'm just glad you weren't busy with a Treble. And I was there with a friend, anyway, and we were meeting friends, so I just left."

Stacie still frowned.

"Look, there were clearly dynamics going on that I didn't understand, and I didn't want to mess with whatever was going on." Aubrey said frankly. "And honestly, Stacie, I'd really rather you'd… I'm just gonna say 'made out' with a random stranger than a Treblemaker."

"Really?"

"I mean, I get it, one-night stands could be a lot of fun. And sexually-transmitted infections can be treated. But knowing if you slept with one of those dirtballs never goes away."

Stacie had never been more relieved that the part of her that kept Aubrey in the back of her mind, and had made her fear that exact reaction, had kept her veering far from being sexually active with any of the Treblemakers. "Fine. And for the record? I'm clean, by the way."

Aubrey tilted her head to the side, face impassive, as she looked at Stacie. "Good to know."

Stacie arched an eyebrow, unimpressed at the lack of a reaction. "And you?"

"Same."

The brief exchange was the most frank and straightforward manner to establish, as if there had been any doubt before, that theirs was going to be a sexual relationship.

"So, do I hit the lights, or…" Stacie joked, breaking the tension, and succeeding in making Aubrey laugh.

"Not at work, please." Aubrey requested. She looked down at her sandwich, and bit into a still-whole corner. "Let's keep this professional."

Stacie rolled her eyes in an exaggerated show of compliance. She sighed loudly. "Fine."

"Thank you."

However, a question still remained. "So about this chain of command thing…"

Aubrey groaned.

"Aubrey, I'm an intern. I can leave if I want to. This is your job." Stacie reminded. "I'm pretty sure people started talking the minute I walked out of the elevator to have lunch, and that's just two college friends catching up."

"We are two friends catching up." Aubrey defended.

Stacie gave her a look of wry skepticism.

"Who had dinner last night and another one tomorrow." Aubrey reluctantly acknowledged. Although honestly, if she had her way they would have dinner that night together, too, but she had a client call that evening. "Your point?"

"I refuse to have s- carry out this affair until you can tell me without any doubt that we're not breaking company policy."

Aubrey arched an eyebrow, well aware of just what Stacie had been about to say and the deliberate change of wording. "Oh, really? This is an affair now?"

Stacie nodded firmly, finishing her own sandwich and crumpling its wrapper into a ball. "Sex more than once makes it an affair, and I'm not risking your career just because the sex is awesome." She paused, realizing she was referring to an experience over a year old. "Or, you know, I assume the sex is still awesome. I mean, I find ways to get off anyway, and you're still hot and still Aubrey, plus I almost mounted you on the elevator yesterday, and again in the bar… You haven't gotten selfish in bed, right?"

This time, it was Aubrey's turn to stare, her mind a blank.

"Because," Stacie continued, laughing lightly, if a little awkwardly, because Aubrey was just staring, "your attention and focus, when related to sex? Kind of a turn-on. I mean, it's a turn on regardless, but that kind of single-minded focus, god, I think we discovered kinks I didn't know I had. And, trust me, I'm plenty-" She stopped herself - because how was Aubrey able to turn her into a blabbering mess? Cuticle care and the E! network, for crying out loud - and turned pleadingly at Aubrey. "Please start talking now."

Aubrey stared at her for another long beat, before she dropped her sandwich onto its paper wrapper. "I'm going to need you to leave."

Stacie frowned.

Aubrey took a deep breath. "I report directly to the VP of Ops, so I can find a way through any possible chain of command issue. But doing it in the office kind of breaks a lot of rules on office conduct, and that's a lot harder to explain. Even if there are no security cameras in the room."

Stacie, whose frown had faded and replaced with a mischievous grin, arched an eyebrow at the last statement. "Is that so?"

"Stacie."

"So, is the issue a matter of conduct, or that's it's during office hours?"

Aubrey laughed. "Get out."

"No, this is a serious question."

"I bet it is."

"I mean, if there's no rhyme or reason for us to technically get caught…"

"Out."

Stacie pouted. "Is that how it is? I bring you lunch–"

"Which I paid you back for."

"And you just expect me to see myself out?" Stacie gasped in mock-affront. "You're a harsh lover, Aubrey Posen."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "I have reservations for dinner tomorrow, so if you're done pretending to be insulted…"

Stacie laughed, handing her balled-up sandwich wrapper to Aubrey, who automatically took it, and got to her feet. "Back to work, then." Once she reached the door to Aubrey's office, Stacie glanced over her shoulder at Aubrey. "So, like, since you're gonna be sort of my boss, does that technically put me under you, because—"

"Out."