Having never been alone in a car with Aubrey driving before, and given how high strung Aubrey tended to be in her daily life, it was surprising to discover that the blonde was perfectly at ease behind the wheel, if a little too happy pressing on the gas. Aubrey was relaxed, and cheerful, and the radio was tuned in to some local college radio station – actually, it was stuck (or Aubrey had no idea how to work the radio and just refused to admit it) – but Aubrey was singing along with Stacie to fairly recent music (by Aubrey's standards), so Stacie counted it as a win.

After Aubrey's conference call that morning, they had picked up some takeout to eat in the car, and Stacie's not going to lie: the fact that Aubrey didn't mind food in the car was another big surprise. And she said as much, around a mouthful of fries.

Aubrey glanced at her, amused. "Chloe and I used to drive around Georgia town limits all the time. She says the best way to get to know a place is by its food, and around the fifth or fifteenth time she insisted on buying something from every stop within a certain distance to do a comparative test, I kind of just had to give in."

"Never figured you to be someone who couldn't say no to Chloe."

Aubrey scoffed. "Beca's a Bella, isn't she?"

"Yeah, but that's different." Stacie pointed out.

Aubrey shrugged. "Have you ever tried to say no to Chloe?"

Stacie paused to consider, and realized that she couldn't remember a single moment in which she or any of the people she knew had been able to refuse Chloe Beale anything, be it a favor or a dare, or something even more outrageous. "Good point." She pointed. "Turn right here."

The neighborhood of Stacie's home was full of tree-lined streets and mid-sized homes, a complete and utter picture of suburbia that Aubrey had to glance over at Stacie in mild bemusement. "Does your life come with its own voice-over?"

Stacie gave her a withering glare. "Says the girl who I bet was Prom Queen."

"Prom Royalty. Never Prom Queen." Aubrey admitted. "I was never popular enough and I was usually too busy to campaign properly. That, and I think someone just kept nominating me to see what I would do."

Stacie stared at her. "Oh my God I was kidding."

Aubrey shot her a glare.

"Prom royalty and show choir." Stacie drawled, regarding the woman beside her with fond amusement. "I bet you were all AP classes and honor roll and dated the quarterback."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Honor roll and lacrosse captain."

Stacie smirked. "You're like an actual female lead in a high school show on The CW."

"I wasn't nearly interesting enough in high school." Aubrey noted dryly.

"Yeah, I bet being perfect made you a total bore."

Aubrey gave her a quick glance before turning back to the front of the car, and when Stacie tried, she couldn't accurately read Aubrey's expression. In a voice that took away most of the lightheartedness of their exchange, Aubrey said quietly, "Trust me, I'm not even close to perfect."

Stacie studied Aubrey closely, confused at the abrupt turn of their conversation. "Aubrey…"

Aubrey glanced at her.

"If I said something wrong-"

Aubrey sighed, and shook her head, even as she turned back to the windshield. "It's my stuff. You didn't know."

Stacie studied her for a beat longer, trying to discern if Aubrey really meant to move past the awkwardness or was merely letting her off the hook. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Fair enough. "If you ever do, I'm always willing to hear it."

Aubrey gave her a brief smile. "Thanks."

She was willing to wait Aubrey out, but a part of Stacie wondered if Chloe knew. She cleared her throat as an indication that she was moving on with the discussion. "It's Pennsylvania, we all know how stereotypically suburban it could be."

"And I notice you're not denying the voice-over." Aubrey pointed out in agreement, grateful to Stacie for resuming an earlier, less-sensitive point in their conversation.

"Yeah, and right now I'm wondering why I find you so attractive." Stacie retorted. She pointed to a house further down the street indicating her home.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Stacie. She guessed, "List of pros and cons?"

"Rhetorical." Stacie answered. "You're hot, I'm hot, and we're hot together. I'm much more shallow than my voice-over."

"I like you more than your voice-over, then." Aubrey commented. She glanced to her side to share a quick smile with Stacie.

When Aubrey turned back to focus on parking the car, Stacie's gaze remained on Aubrey; much like her imaginary voice-over, she wondered why she was so drawn to the other woman, and what it was she expected from Aubrey. Because for all their flirting and unquestionable mutual attraction (and orgasmic sexual chemistry), they had once forgone the possibility of a relationship due to their circumstances, and even now there were a lot of questions pertaining to what, exactly, their relationship was.

Once the car engine was off, Aubrey turned to Stacie. "So…"

"Nickel tour?" Stacie offered. She jerked her head in the direction of the back seat, where the rest of their takeout sat in brown paper bags, and grinned. "Lunch included."

Aubrey laughed. "Deal."

After dropping off the food on the dining table, Stacie gave a tour that probably cost less than a nickel, stopping in front of the stairs, and gesturing vaguely - "first floor," - before pausing at the top of the stairway, pointing at one end, "Mom's room," and pulling Aubrey towards the door at the opposite end of the hallway. In front of her room, however, Stacie stopped short at the door, and turned to Aubrey, tentative.

Aubrey waited.

Stacie stared at Aubrey for a long moment, while Aubrey wondered what she was being scrutinized for; and just as she had years ago as a freshman under the Barden Bellas' discerning gaze, Aubrey hoped she was enough.

"I know we were joking around earlier, about you being Prom Royalty and all that other stuff," Stacie began hesitantly, "but we both know you would have hated me in high school."

Aubrey stayed silent, because in the past year, she had become self-aware enough to know Stacie probably had a point. She knew Chloe and the rest of the Barden Bellas had helped immensely in calming her and easing her personality; and if Stacie in college – fun, academically-inclined, and friendly with everyone – was anything to go by, Aubrey's envy of how easy life was for Stacie would definitely have caused her to act negatively towards the younger woman.

"Right." Stacie paused, and bit her lip. "I really need you not to laugh if I let you in."

Aubrey smiled wryly. "Is it worse than show choir?"

Stacie smiled back, acknowledging the rejoinder. While she still felt hesitant, she reached behind her and turned the knob to her door.

They had described the company-issued apartment as spartan and bare, the walls and furniture clean of any personalized items, but what Aubrey had failed to mention the previous evening was that her entire life, the rooms she had occupied weren't too far off. There had been cork boards and whiteboards and other places where she pinned reminders and ideas on, and growing up she had a shelf in her bedroom where she could put books and awards on; but other than that? Her father had often reminded her that an orderly space was a sign of an orderly mind, and too many personal items was to invite others insight on any potential weakness.

Stacie's room was pretty much the exact opposite of that. There was something to see and look at in every corner, the walls were adorned with different posters, including blueprints of what looked like a nuclear submarine and a nuclear power plant, and even the ceiling was adorned with glow in the dark stickers of constellations. A shelf on the wall nearest to the door was filled with knick-knacks of different varieties and interests, including a pretty chemical garden. In a corner was another shelf, this one on the brink of collapse, filled to bursting with books.

Aubrey gazed around the room in awe, for so many reasons. First and foremost being that this must be what it was like to have free reign on how to decorate one's room; and even if her father's adage held true, that personal items were indicative of someone's weaknesses, it would be hard to pinpoint Stacie's, because there was just so much to look at. Aubrey wanted to know everything there was to know about the room, while also aware that she could sit in this room for hours and she wouldn't even come close to figuring Stacie Conrad out.

Aubrey approached the nearest shelf, glancing over the different items on the shelf, wondering the story behind each piece, before fixing her gaze on the chemical garden, which looked vibrant in its glass case. She pointed at it, turning to question Stacie, "How do these work, anyway?"

"Solid metal salts, and aqueous sodium silicate." Stacie explained.

Aubrey nodded, despite having absolutely no idea what those were or how those two things formed a chemical garden. Science had never been her thing.

Stacie watched her for a long moment, before noting, "You're not laughing."

"This is amazing." Aubrey told her, looking away from the glass, and turning to Stacie. "I can totally see why you're having a difficult time deciding on a concentration."

Stacie lifted an eyebrow.

Aubrey motioned to the room. "If this is any indication, anything less than everything wouldn't be enough for you."

Stacie still looked skeptical. There was no way this was impressing Aubrey. "Underneath this hot exterior is a nerd, Aubrey."

Aubrey, who had strayed to the book shelf, shot her a glance. "And I audited Math Theory."

This was a very good point.

Stacie watched Aubrey pick a book from the shelf and flip through its pages, before snapping it shut so she can read the back cover. "Did you see the Lord of the Rings DVDs in the corner?"

"My roommate has a boxed set." Aubrey said dismissively, before lifting the book in her hands. "Can I borrow this?"

Stacie frowned, confused. "How is all of this – how is any of this impressing you?"

Aubrey turned and faced Stacie. "Because this is… this is just the tip of the iceberg of who you are. How can I not be…" She paused, and when she saw the complete puzzlement on Stacie's face, tilted her head to the side. "Do you really have no idea how impressive you are?"

"I'm not the girl one year out of college and in middle management of a multinational." Stacie countered.

"No," Aubrey agreed. "But that's hard work and a ton of luck." She again indicated their surroundings. "This? You understand these things: All of it. You can pick any Science concentration and you're probably going to be amazing at it. You were accepted to Georgia Tech but Barden offered you full academic scholarship, and you're actually keeping it, maintaining the required GPA, all while giving absolutely zero indication how hard your classes were when most, maybe all, of your friends were either undeclared or have Liberal Arts majors. You're well-liked, and you're kind, and you're an integral part of an actually-competitive Barden Bellas." Aubrey reminded. "I made the mistake of dismissing you once because I thought 'cuticle care and the E! network' were shallow pursuits, but I watch ensemble movies and enjoyed Twilight, so I know those were a small fraction of who you are, and I learn from my mistakes, and I want to—" She stopped abruptly, catching herself, and glanced away, turning to the shelf of personal effects. "I want to know the stories behind everything in this room."

"And I'm hot."

Aubrey paused, confused, and turned back to Stacie. "Okay…?"

"If you're listing things that make me impressive. You didn't mention that I'm hot."

Aubrey shrugged. "That's probably eighty percent genetics, and twenty percent personal grooming. That's hardly impressive, Anastasia."

Stacie gawked at her. "Did you just-?"

"Full name you? Yes."

Stacie gasped in offense. "How dare you, Twilight fan. I bet you were Team Edward."

"You would lose that bet."

"But those books were awful!"

"Oh, absolutely." Aubrey agreed offhand. "I liked the movies."

Stacie stared at her. "Not much better. How can you be this hot and be this bibliothecally repulsive?"

"As I said, I hated the books. I think you mean cinematically-repulsive." Aubrey corrected.

"You read the books?" Stacie demanded incredulously.

"Chloe swore by those books." Aubrey said defensively.

Stacie stopped short, and couldn't help the absolute glee inside on having something over her Bellas captain. "Chloe likes Twilight?"

"And it took months of debate for us to agree on being Team Jacob, and don't ever mention the whole imprint ending with her, because she will cut a bitch for that." Aubrey told her. "She maintains Breaking Dawn doesn't exist."

Stacie blinked, aghast. "I can't believe I let you touch me."

"In my defense, I don't own the movies and only really saw them once. I doubt they hold up on repeat viewings." Aubrey noted. "And Taylor Lautner being shirtless can only entertain for so long."

Stacie snorted, and rolled her eyes. "I must really like you; because despite your complete and devastating failings as a consumer of movies, books, or music, I still want you."

"And I'm supposed to ignore the John Green novels in your book shelf?"

Stacie's eyes widened, and she shot a glance in the shelf's direction as if to glare at it for its betrayal, before she turned back to Aubrey, hastening to defend herself. "I can explain that."

Aubrey smiled in amusement, her skepticism apparent. "Truce?"

Knowing she'd been caught out, Stacie sighed in defeat, and nodded. "Yes." She crooked her finger to motion Aubrey to come closer. "How are we only finding this out about each other?"

"We spent our only year together in comfortable silences." Aubrey reminded, slowly approaching Stacie.

"And you yelling at us during Bellas rehearsals." Stacie added, reaching out when Aubrey stopped in front of her and pulling the other girl closer.

Aubrey conceded that point. "We don't really know that much about each other." She indicated the room with a slight tilt of her head. "That's partly why your room fascinates me."

"Only partly?"

Aubrey nodded. "You grew up here. This is the part of the world that's entirely yours." She stepped even closer to Stacie and leaned up to brush their lips together. "It makes me want to stay here for a while."

"Take your time." Stacie replied, responding to the kiss, taking the book from Aubrey's hands and dropping it to the floor, freeing Aubrey's hands, before wrapping her own arms around Aubrey's waist. "Stay as long as you want."

Not surprisingly, the part of Stacie's room Aubrey most wanted to explore was its owner, and Stacie had never been more thankful that she'd taken her mom up on her offer to upgrade what used to be a single bed, before she'd come home that summer. Although she really hopes her mom never finds out just how Stacie was breaking in her new bed, or how Stacie was breaking the very explicit rule of not having sex under their shared roof.

But it's there – sharing a pillow on the bed in Stacie's childhood room, surrounded by her things and telling the story of some of the items that made up Stacie Conrad – that Stacie realized for the first time, in an epiphany so clear and certain, that unlike last time, she's not so willing to let Aubrey go this time around.

Even if she's unsure of everything else that means.