Blackouts and Bedtime Stories

"I can't believe this is ours", Jesse said with a grin, looking around the room. "It's ours, Bec!"

The cramped Los Angeles apartment was piled high with boxes and their mattress was on the lounge room floor, but it was theirs.

"It's ours", Beca confirmed, nodding as he cheesily wrapped her arms around her.

"Let's not unpack tonight", Jesse told her. "Let's just go out and get some dinner and then just go to bed. I'm exhausted".

After a full day of moving (a full day of stepping around boxes, if they were honest), the pair wanted nothing more to crash into bed (their mattress on the living room floor). But they were hungry, and food seemed more important at that moment.

"Let's go". Jesse reached for Beca's hand and she took it, leaning into him slightly. "Watch out Los Angeles, Beca and Jesse have arrived".

"You're such a weirdo", she groaned.

Jesse pushed the door open, his hand reaching for the light switch. Flicking it on, he frowned, as they continued to stand in darkness.

"This is a dilemma", Jesse said.

"We don't have power, do we?" Beca deadpanned.

"It seems we don't".

"Well". She sighed heavily.

Jesse made his way through the apartment with the light of his phone, reaching for the box at the top of a stack. "You know, I thought my mother was just being paranoid when she told us buy candles, but apparently she's not as crazy as we thought, hey?"

"You're insane", she laughed. "Jesse, we're going to end up burning the place down, it's a fire hazard!"

"It's romantic", he corrected. "Here, hold my phone up for me, so I can see".

Beca held her phone up (stretching up on her tip toes and still not being able to properly reach, much to Jesse's amusement) as Jesse yanked the box down. Tearing at the packing tape, he pulled out a handful of candles (looking very much like he had raided Benji's collection).

"Remember when we first spoke outside the station?" Jesse said brightly, as he flicked the lighter, the flame dancing in the darkness.

"Yeah, you had a big ass candle". Beca smiled at the memory. "Where the hell did you get the big ass candle?"

"Benji".

(It explained so much.)

"It was romantic!" he protested, seeing her eye roll. "Don't give me that look, you loved it".

"I loved the juice".

He broke into a grin. "Strawberry kiwi, right?"

(She looked at him differently when he gave her strawberry kiwi juice pouch, he realised it a few weeks into working at the radio station. He made it his mission from that day on to woo her with strawberry kiwi juice pouches.)

"What are we going to do?" Beca wanted to know, as Jesse flicked the lighter and held them over the candles. A dim light filled the room, and Jesse looked at her.

"We could watch-"

"We are not watching a movie".

"I was gonna say we could watch The Breakfast Club".

(Despite his best efforts, The Breakfast Club was the only movie that Beca could stand.)

"No, all your DVDs are still packed and there's no way-"

"They're alphabetized!"

(Of course his DVDs were alphabetized. Of course he had packed his DVDs for a cross country move and alphabetizes them. He was her nerd, after all.)

"We could play Twister!" Jesse said brightly.

"I can't believe you actually bought us Twister", Beca scoffed. "How do you even know where it is?"

"I packed the boxes, sweetheart, I know where everything is".

"Don't sweetheart me". She frowned at him, and he grinned.

"Yes dear".

"We are not playing Twister".

"What about Marco polo?"

"Are we in a pool?"

(Beca hated Marco polo. The last time Fat Amy had insisted on playing it, she had lunged at Beca with such enthusiasm she'd given her a nosebleed. And Beca was yet to forgive her.)

"I've got it!" Jesse picked up a candle. "We could tell ghost stories".

(She was dating a ten year old.)

"Jesse, I'll probably set myself on fire", she objected, tearing open another box and tugging out their doona. Jesse waited until she had it draped over their mattress, before taking her hand.

"Let's go and explore".

She reluctantly squeezed his hand back, following him around the boxes.

They had explored their pint sized apartment in the afternoon while they moved boxes around to make a maze. But there was something thrilling about exploring their apartment by candlelight- they were literally seeing it in another light.

They went around their apartment four times- each time finding something knew and mentally pencilling in where to put something. Jesse had wanted then and there to get out the hammer and the wall hooks to hang up the photo taken the day of Chloe and Aubrey's graduation four years earlier (they hadn't even realised Chloe was taking a photo until she received the email later that day- they both looked so incredibly happy), but Beca managed (with some level of difficulty) to talk him out of it. By the end of their fourth lap, however, they were worn out. So Jesse puffed out the candles and they fell to their mattress.

Beca shivered, as Jesse pulled her closer. "You know what I love about you Bec?"

"What?" she asked curiously, curling into his side?

"How you're so dedicated. Like, to your music and stuff. You get this look on your face after you get a mix just right, and it just makes me happy that you're so happy. It's like at that moment, everything is right with the world".

She smiled, wrapping her arms around him and stretching up to kiss him. "You know what I love about you, Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"You're so passionate. And you're such a weirdo". She giggled against his lips and he pouted.

"You love it".

"I do", she admitted quietly.

The pair lay there in silence for a few minutes, taking in their surroundings and relishing in the fact that for the first time, they were in a place that was solely theirs. They didn't have to worry about the Treblemakers in the next room, or Fat Amy (Beca's roommate for her final three years at Barden) strolling in. their apartment was theirs and no one else's.

"You're tired", Jesse observed, seeing her eyes droop.

"No I'm not", she argued.

(Beca was like a child, she would fight sleep until the last moment when she was with him. When she was without him, she'd nod off without an issue- she clocked her love of sleep right up on the scale, alongside her love for Jesse and her music.)

"Want me to tell you a story?" Jesse asked his sleepy girlfriend, as her eyes threatened to close. Beca shook her head.

"No, I don't want a story".

"I bet you do". He grinned. "Once upon a time- OW!"

(For someone who was so close to sleep, Beca could still pack a punch.)

"Weirdo", she mumbled.

"Fine", he huffed. "I'll sing you a song".

She smiled, curling into his side.

"A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance, and maybe they'd be happy for a while", he sang softly, rubbing Beca's back to even her breathing.

He hated Aerosmith for making a song about watching people sleep, and he hated Twilight for making it creepy. But Beca looked so peaceful when she slept- it was when she completely let her walls down. For the girl who so rarely smiled, she slept with a permanent grin on her face, curled into his side.

"Welcome home Bec", he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I love you".

And Beca heard him, halfway between consciousness and dreamland.

She loved him too.