Aubrey was tired – no, she was exhausted. She had no idea whose brilliant idea it was for her to step in for a development officer and conduct a training seminar in Baltimore at the last minute, but that officer better name her emergency-delivery firstborn child after Aubrey, she swore to God. She'd had to drive down to Maryland that morning, and since she had a morning meeting the next day back in Philadelphia, drove right back once the training was over.

She deserved at least a salary bump for this crap, honestly.

But she would still rather be at the beck and call of the organization than be in money management (and the fast-paced and highly-competitive lifestyle that involved), which had been her initial job description when she'd gone to Chicago, so she couldn't complain.

And sometimes she was even allowed to yell at the trainees presented to her, when clients agreed to a more boot camp/drill sergeant approach, so she really couldn't complain. Baltimore had been a simple basic skills training, something she could do half-asleep, which was probably why they trusted her to conduct it without prior preparation.

However, it was late, and she'd been too weary to even consider taking a food detour before getting back to Philadelphia, so she was tired, sleepy, and hungry, and she had to be up in a few hours to prepare for her meeting.

Feeling like every bone and muscle in her body were too heavy to perform basic functions such as turning the lights on in the apartment, Aubrey trudged into the room in total darkness, dropping her laptop case and purse on the nearest chair, kicked off her heels, and then shed her blazer to drop on the floor, before finally collapsing face down into the couch and burying her face into one of the pillows.

One of the few advantages of such a bare apartment was the lack of opportunity to trip and fall over anything, which at the moment Aubrey was infinitely grateful for.

As she sank further into the cushion of the couch, she sighed in relief at finally being able to rest.

This was not the first time she would fall asleep on the couch. She hadn't been lying about how comfortable it was.

Between the level of comfort the furniture provided and how she and Stacie had enjoyed defiling it, Aubrey idly wondered if she could negotiate with facilities management to have this couch sent to New York.

Stacie.

Aubrey sighed, inwardly groaning, momentarily distracted from her exhaustion to take a moment to internally berate herself on how she was unquestionably mishandling whatever relationship she had going on with Stacie. She knew the girl had to be listing the many ways Aubrey wasn't worth it, at this point. The phone call on Sunday had thrown Aubrey off-balance, not expecting to be called out on having slept with other people in the past year, and Aubrey knew she hadn't been helping matters by trying to do what she thought was the right thing and focusing back on other aspects of dating, like actually going out on dates; knowing how easy it was to get distracted and avoid any kind of serious discussion by falling into bed with each other. The problem, she had realized during the drive from Baltimore, was that going out to public places meant they hadn't been able to discuss anything too private… like, for example, the people they had slept with in the past year. Whether by accident or by design, the places they had chosen to dine at the past few days hadn't been very conducive to deep conversations.

She knew she owed Stacie better answers, actual explanations on why she had distanced herself from the Bellas, why the phone calls – awkward as they may have been – stalled, and everything else that Aubrey had gone through the past year.

But to talk about them would be admitting to what she had been up to the past year, and Aubrey knew not all of it were positive things. After all, there was a reason why she had been plucked from the relative obscurity of employee orientation for newly-graduated management trainees and into one of the high-profile groups of a major multinational corporation, and stating it had been luck and countless hours of overtime was simplifying things. She hadn't had to resort to underhanded methods, but there had been too many times in the past year that she had felt frighteningly sympathetic towards Alice, her former Barden Bellas captain, and channeled the part of her that had cultivated and earned the fear and terror of the new Bellas during her senior year.

And she knew – she knew – that Stacie (or anyone, really, probably even Aubrey) hadn't been particularly fond of that version of Aubrey Posen. Aubrey had no doubt that if Stacie hadn't been so stubborn when faced with a challenge, or if they hadn't shared so many class breaks, allowing for similar library and break times, Stacie wouldn't have been able to see through the cutthroat personality that Aubrey had adopted as Bellas captain, or even seen her with her guard down.

But it had helped, that awful side of her, when she had to do what she was told to do, what the job entailed, when she was made to go beyond her Training and Development role and show up after hostile takeovers, acquisitions, job cuts, "corporate realignment" or any other fancy terms they used to pretend they weren't vicious corporate pirates.

(And then there were the series of half-assed relationships: some were people Aubrey dated until they started wanting a commitment, and some were people Aubrey would date just for the sake of not being alone. But calling any of them "relationships" was an overstatement.)

There was a reason why Aubrey had jumped at the chance to take the job in Philadelphia, despite the fact that it was low-impact, low-profile, and offered nothing in terms of building her career profile: it was a review, plain and simple, to ensure everything was still moving efficiently in the company. The managers got to state their case for any pending requests, and the Oversight Committee would make recommendations based on the requests, and their own review findings. Philadelphia was supposed to have been a break, an opportunity for her to breathe a little, to regroup and regain focus, to straighten out the angst and turmoil, the ennui that had plagued her for the past few months.

And after a week of reviewing practical things like facilities and systems, she'd finally gotten to the list of personnel, and Stacie's name appeared on the company's roster of summer interns. And taking away the internal debate on how she would have wanted to face Stacie a year after their last encounter, Stacie had been in the elevator Aubrey had to take one day after a morning detour to the security office. And Aubrey had been unable to stop herself from starting a conversation, taking in Stacie's exhausted countenance, and had wanted to try and make Stacie's day just a little better, or at least make the girl smile.

She hadn't needed to ask herself why making Stacie smile had mattered so much to her.

Just like why she hadn't needed to stop and consider the repercussions of pursuing anything with Stacie: There had been no question. Even if she'd had to sacrifice her pride and had to admit to her boss that she was dating an intern.

She was just grateful that her boss, despite being Vice President and widely known as a no-nonsense woman, had more personal relationships with the members of her Oversight Committee, and had known Aubrey well enough to know that Aubrey wouldn't have even started anything, much less inform her about such a blatant stretch of ethics, if it were anything less than important.

She had no idea just what, exactly, was going on between herself and Stacie Conrad, but Aubrey had no doubt that whatever it was, it certainly qualified as important.

Her phone beeped, and as if such heavy thinking about the girl had summoned her, Aubrey received a message from Stacie.

Are you home?

Aubrey frowned, and checked the time to make sure she was receiving the text on time, before she answered: Just got home. You OK?

Can I come over?

Aubrey's confusion grew – had she given Stacie any kind of indication that she wasn't welcome at the apartment? – and she texted back. Of course.

The knock on the door came almost instantaneously, probably in the same amount of time for the text message to traverse communication lines, and Aubrey forced herself out of the couch and into an upright position, staggering back to the door. She switched a light on, momentarily blinking to become accustomed to no longer being engulfed in darkness, and continued her way to the door.

She made the perfunctory check on the peephole, and stepped back to open the door. She offered Stacie a weak smile as Stacie entered the room. "I haven't returned your phone charger."

"You had to conduct a seminar out of town?" Stacie questioned, recalling the text message Aubrey had sent that morning.

Aubrey nodded, closing the door behind Stacie. "You're a sight for sore eyes." She scoffed at herself. "And sore everything else." She again gave Stacie a smile. "Hi."

Stacie returned it with a faint smile of her own. "Hi."

There was a moment's hesitation, before they both leaned in and moved forward, bumping awkwardly, but nonetheless managing to share a quick kiss without further incident. There was a full beat of them both relishing the fact that they still got to do that, and then the moment shifted. As if suddenly realizing they had just gone for twenty-four hours without any physical contact, the two women surged back together, their lips meeting in a frenzied kiss, Aubrey's hands tangling in Stacie's hair while Stacie's hands touched Aubrey everywhere, unable to decide how she most wanted to hold the older girl, the sudden bout of passion belying the exhaustion they both felt.

Stacie pinned Aubrey to the wall in the entryway, the suddenness of which making Aubrey gasp and break their kiss. They stared at each other for a long moment, trying to gauge if they were in any shape or form to pursue this line of physical activity, and what their current positions meant, before Stacie bent her head, closing her eyes as she pressed her forehead to Aubrey's.

"We need to talk."

Aubrey agreed. However… "Now?"

Stacie lifted her head, and regarded the other woman, frowning at the tiredness that seemed to etch itself in every line of Aubrey's face, and emanated from every pore. "You look awful."

She hadn't seen a mirror, but Aubrey certainly wouldn't deny it. "Baltimore."

"Enough said." Stacie acknowledged. "Are you sure you're okay for me to be here?"

"Of course. It's always okay to have you around." Aubrey leaned back against the wall, grateful for the support in keeping herself upright. "Are you OK?"

Stacie nodded, wrapping her arms around Aubrey and clasping her hands behind the blonde's back, managing to be close enough to be intimate while also providing some distance between them to still be able to look at each other, while also helping keep Aubrey in a standing position. "Traffic was backed up on my route – there's roadwork and an accident – and when the bus barely moved two blocks in two hours, I turned back." She tilted her head to the floor, where her purse and a brown paper bag lay, having fallen from her hands when she'd reached for Aubrey earlier, bags which Aubrey hadn't even noticed. "I brought Thai." She paused, and frowned. "You like Thai, right?"

"I like Thai." Aubrey confirmed. She sagged against the wall. "But I'm too tired to eat."

Stacie could relate. "Can I stay here?"

Aubrey smiled and pushed off the wall, causing Stacie to back up a step. "Yeah, of course. Go wash up, I'll keep the food."

Stacie smiled to show her appreciation, and briefly brushed her lips to Aubrey's – grateful that she still got to do that – and turned to head to do as directed.

While Stacie sorted through Aubrey's clothes to pick something she could wear the next day and not echo any of Aubrey's previous outfits, Aubrey took a quick shower, and Stacie couldn't help but think that for a relationship so undefined, she and Aubrey were being completely domestic.

And the startling notion that it didn't terrify her at all.

After picking out an ensemble – pairing up a skirt and sleeveless top that she was pretty sure Aubrey wouldn't think to put together, nor she could recall Aubrey wearing recently – Stacie picked up her phone to check her messages, while also moving to her side of the bed to lie down.

She must have drifted off at one point, because she woke up when Aubrey joined her in bed. Stacie peered up at her, looking slightly better after her shower and a lot less world-weary. Stacie fought off her own exhaustion to address the elephant in the room. "We still need to talk."

"Okay." Aubrey answered, setting her own phone on the bedside table and settling down on the bed.

"I have questions."

Aubrey rest her head upon her pillow, and faced Stacie. "Okay."

Stacie studied her for a moment, and tried to decide on what was the most pressing question she had.

"Why aren't you talking to Chloe?"

What the fuck.

The question had been nagging Stacie from the back of her mind, but that definitely hadn't been what she'd thought would be her first question, given the opportunity to ask.

And judging from Aubrey's expression, she hadn't expected it, either.

But having said it out loud, Stacie realized that Chloe, or more specifically Aubrey's friendship with Chloe, seemed to be the crux of some of Stacie's questions regarding Aubrey's life in the past year. There were too many gaps, too many blank spaces, and while it had hurt, Stacie could understand why keeping in touch with her hadn't been on top of Aubrey's to-do list. Aubrey letting her friendship with Chloe slide was a red flag.

Aubrey lifted her gaze to the ceiling, trying to sort through her ready excuses – busy, things to do, conflicting schedules, 'can't talk right now' – and tried to find the truth of the matter. "I don't know how to talk to her anymore."

Stacie frowned.

Aubrey turned back to her, and sighed. "All of you, really. It's weird," she smiled weakly, because here was someone who was part of the reason why Aubrey had felt the need to distance herself from her friends, and Stacie was the one who wanted an explanation. "I was the one who left but every time I called it felt like I was the one who got left behind."

"I don't..." Understand. Get it. Know what you're talking about.

Aubrey gazed at a point over Stacie's shoulder as she spoke. "The first few weeks after graduation it felt…" She paused. "There's this feeling, I've heard people call it emotional paralysis. Like you've stalled, and you don't know how to move past it. After graduation, I didn't really know how to feel much about anything. Sometimes I'd feel like I poured so much of my feelings in those past few months, losing at the semis then getting it together in time for the ICCAs, and then winning, and then you, and Chloe, and graduation, and you, and by the time I got to Chicago I felt empty. But work kept me busy, but it would get overwhelming, and the only time I'd feel like I wasn't drowning was when I'd talk to Chloe." Her gaze flickered back to Stacie. "And then school started again. And it felt like losing Chloe all over again to you guys."

"We didn't-"

"But you did." Aubrey exhaled. "It's not your fault, you didn't know. Back then I wasn't paying attention; I was neglectful. She needs the company, and God knows someone had to convince all of you not to quit the Bellas. But when school started again and we'd talk it always felt like she had somewhere else to be, somewhere else you were all going to. And I couldn't use Chloe as a lifeline anymore. And half the time I was calling because work sucked and I realized that if I just told her about the bad stuff, maybe she'd be even less inclined to graduate. But work sucked more than it didn't, and when your job takes up pretty much your entire life, and you make the decision not to talk about it, there isn't much left to talk about."

Stacie frowned. "So you stopped calling."

"I called less," Aubrey nodded. "And I'd hate to sound like I'm passing the blame, but I have to point out the fact that phones go both ways, and I wasn't exactly getting a lot of calls from Georgia."

Stacie fell silent, because Aubrey kind of had a point on that one. She didn't know exactly the reasons why, but she knew they'd been neglectful, too. But that wasn't the point.

"Besides, it's not like she even noticed."

"She did." Stacie corrected. When Aubrey's expression wrinkled in confusion, Stacie explained her interruption. "You went from calling almost every night to once in a while, Aubrey. She noticed. We all did."

"I didn't have anything to say."

"That wasn't the point." Stacie argued. "You could have read the receipt of your lunch meal, for all we cared. Any sign that you cared was what mattered. I just wanted to know you were okay."

Aubrey frowned. "Stace—"

"You called less with Chloe, but you stopped calling me. I was just too happy to see you last week that I almost forgot that you cut me out. But when you wouldn't talk to me, I thought about it, and I remembered, and you… You cut me out. You said you were going to stay in touch."

"I said I'd try."

"Well, you obviously stopped trying, didn't you?" Stacie couldn't help but go on the offensive because while she had understood, and she had even seen it coming, it had still hurt deeply to have been so easily set aside by Aubrey.

"We had nothing to talk about." Aubrey reminded quietly, trying to quell the emotional storm the conversation was brewing. "I'd ask about school, and you'd ask about work, and that was it."

"You could have asked about the fucking weather and I would have answered."

"Those calls were awkward as hell, and you know it."

"Because someone – and it sure as hell hadn't been me – decided that we couldn't talk about other stuff because to do that would make the calls sound like people in a relationship." Stacie countered.

"A relationship we couldn't have. One I wasn't ready for and you didn't want."

"You just stopped, Aubrey. At least Chloe's getting the slow death of communication. You just…"

"I was dating someone." Aubrey blurted out, confirming what Stacie had always suspected, about the abrupt end to Aubrey's calls. Aubrey groaned, bringing her hands up to cover her face, and rolled onto her back. She let out a small scream of frustration into her hands, before lifting them and allowing herself to look up at the ceiling. "I was dating someone, and when I'd call or even think of you, it felt an awful lot like I was cheating on her. So I made a choice. And I stopped."

"You chose her." Stacie concluded, her voice hollow.

Aubrey choked on a bitter laugh, because what a simplistic way to look at it. It seemed simple, but it hadn't been: she'd thought back then that was exactly what she had been doing, that it could be that simple, only to be proven, given her current circumstance, that she'd been very wrong. "What else could I do? You were in Georgia. She was in Illinois. It didn't feel like much of a choice."

Stacie was silent.

"And then I got the job in New York and she was sent to Seattle. End of story." Aubrey finished, before she turned her head and looked at Stacie, whose gaze was lowered. "Are you sure you want to hear the rest of this? It doesn't get better."

Stacie blew out a breath, and lifted her eyes to meet Aubrey's. "Tell me everything." When Aubrey hesitated, because they both knew the implications of having the truth out between them, she said quietly, "please."

So Aubrey did.