I'm not even going to lie to you guys— My lame excuse as to the lack of updates is that I've been too addicted to watching Grey's Anatomy to write. Sue me. I had to force myself to shut the TV off to even write this.

Disclaimer: I do not own any familiar songs, characters, movies, etc. that I mention below.

On the second day of Christmas my weirdo gave to me...

Two Left Feet

Sensing something different about her surroundings, Beca opens an eye after a long slumber and finds herself face-to-face with Jesse, who was silently snoring away. From behind him, she sees a suspicious flicker of movement, accompanied by hushed whispers. She opens her other eye and rubs them, clearing any trace of drowsiness. Using her elbows, she props herself up to examine whatever it was behind Jesse and sees Kaia and Ava whispering to each other. She raises an eyebrow at the two kids, who finally notice her and squeak before retreating out the door. Amused, she falls back onto the pillow and reaches her hand out behind her for a bottle of water that was always on his bedside table, only to be confused when she finds a baseball instead.

She sits up, much more alert. All around her were movie posters and baseball collectables, and the bed sheets that she was previously under had black and white stripes instead of the checkered blue and white pattern she was used to seeing in the mornings at the Treble house. She bites her lip at the picture of a toddler Jesse on the bedside table where she found the baseball, trying not to laugh at the mess of curls atop his head. She finds another one, this time not holding in her chuckles as she takes it in her hands. Inside the wooden frame was a much more recent picture of Jesse in a baseball stance with a bat over his shoulder and a stoic expression on his face. She bites hard on her lip as her eyes wander to his bulging muscles and the curvature of his ass under his uniform, appreciating the view. She feels him stir next to her, bites her tongue, and stills, allowing his arm to snake around her torso as he pulls in closer. She continues observing the room, not sure exactly why she was even there, since he had told her he'd take her back to the Treble house. He rests his cheek on her thigh, trying to find a comfier position. He grunts after failing to get back to sleep, and rolls off her thigh, opening his eyes slowly to meet her confused, yet calm ones.

"Merry Christmas Eve," he smiles, lifting his head. "What'cha got there?"

She shows him the frame and smirks. "Nice ass."

"You love my nice ass," he quips, winking.

She rolls her eyes. "You are an ass."

"So I'm a nice ass that you love?"

She groans and shoves his head into the mattress. "Merry Christmas Eve to you too, nerd."

He sits up and kisses her. "I know you're bummed that you aren't back in Maine right now, but I'm happy you're at least here."

"Yeah..." she hums, feeling his fingers interlace with hers. "While I do appreciate... All of this," she motions to the baseball knick knacks and movie collector's items, "Why exactly am I here and not at the Treble house?"

"You fell asleep, and I didn't want to disturb you. It's a half hour drive back and I honestly didn't think it was worth it if you'll be coming back in the morning anyway. Come on, Becs. How about we just bring your bags here? It'll be a lot easier, and plus everyone loves you, they want you to stay. It's only two more nights."

"Jess, I don't think—"

"PLEASE?!" he pouts and climbs on top of her, closing the gap between them. She turns to shake her head, mouthing "no" when he attacks her neck with little kisses, aiming for the parts where she was ticklish. "Please?" he asks again, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin, causing her to squirm relentlessly under his touch. She lets out a stream of laughter, her face bright red after holding it in for so long.

"Get off me, weirdo!" she laughs, beating her fists against his chest repeatedly after dropping the frame. He stops, his eyes round and pleading.

If Beca was going to be honest, the moment she looked into those stupid, big, brown eyes was the moment she knew there was no going back. So she leans in and kisses him, hoping he'd take the hint and leave her alone. They pull away, his thumb rubbing circles in her palm.

"So, baseball, huh?"

He rolls his eyes. "I wasn't that good."

"You're lying. I can tell," she smirks. She couldn't really tell, but knowing Jesse, he'd believe her.

"Okay, fine. I was pretty good, even got offered a couple scholarships to play in college."

"What?!" she exclaims, stunned. "Why didn't you take any?"

"Easy. I wanted to score movies, not play baseball for the rest of my life. What kind of life is that anyways?"

"A good one, if you ask me."

"I didn't." She rolls her eyes and shoves his hovering body to her side, with him landing with a plop. "Baseball's fun, but movies... They're the greatest."

She groans, bracing herself for never-ending rambles to run out of his mouth. Instead, he turns to her, smiling like a goof. "Do you have any hidden talents, Becs?"

"I can lick my elbow."

"No way! Prove it," he exclaims, his eyes excited and energetic.

She groans again and hits his stupid puppy face with her pillow.

"God, you're such a nerd."

He laughs and kisses her cheek, making her grimace. "Beca?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you wanna build a—"

She slaps a hand over his mouth. "No."

"You're no fun."

She rolls her eyes and gets up, stretching out her back by grabbing the small of it and applying enough pressure to feel it crack. She twists over and backwards a couple of times to relieve the soreness, suddenly noticing the clothes she had on were not the same ones she wore at dinner. She turns to him, arms crossed with an eyebrow cocked.

"What are these? Ducks?"

"Oh, right. Those are Rylee's old pajamas."

"And I willingly got into these?"

"Well, no," he pauses to yawn, his chest depressing in the process, "you were asleep, so I guess you had no room to reject..."

"I don't feel violated at all," she looks at him, whose face was turning white. She fights the grin threatening to stretch her face, "I mean, you could have at least taken my bra off, too. I hate sleeping in them." His adams apple bobs slightly, the tone of his cheeks and neck growing paler by the second. She picks up and throws a pillow at his head, laughing, "Would you relax? You look like a ghost."

"I just... I would never violate you, in any way shape or form. You know that, right?"

The grin on her face fades away, her eyes meeting his sincere ones as she begins to walk towards him on the other side of the bed. She gnaws lightly on her bottom lip, silently cursing herself for allowing that look on his face pave its way to her heart. "Of course, Jess. I wasn't being serious," she sighs, taking a seat next to him.

"I know, but still. Just making sure," he frowns.

She hesitates before talking, feeling her confidence that was slowly sinking beneath her rise slightly. "Thanks for doing it- taking care of me these past couple days. I'm not sure if I've told you, so..." She takes a deep breath before continuing, avoiding his eyes. "I don't deserve it." She mumbles quietly. There, she said it. She's always thought of herself as the independent woman who didn't need anyone ever to help her except herself, and while opening up to him wasn't easy, and certainly not herself, she couldn't help the words that rolled out of her mouth.

"Whoa, don't be so hard on yourself Becs. You know that I..." he looks at her and her tiny frame, her face down, fiddling with the sleeve of her pajama top and avoiding his gaze. "I like you. A lot." She lifts her head from the sleeve to look at him. He lightly brings a hand to her chin and raises it, pressing his lips against hers softly then pulling away slowly. He loops an arm around the small of her back, bringing her closer to him. "I just really like you a lot, you know?"

He's filled with happiness once he sees the brightness in her eyes light up again and her mouth twitch at its edges, curling into a warm smile. "I know. I like you a lot, too." Her fingers entangle into his hair as she wraps her legs around his hips, slowly lowering themselves onto the bed. He runs a hand under her shirt and up her spine, rubbing circles over her skin as he kisses her collarbone. She lets out a low moan, creating friction as she grinds her hips against his. He takes his lips off her skin and moans, lifting her shirt off her body with one swift motion before latching his mouth onto hers. He's in the middle of unclasping her bra when there's a knock at the door, prompting them both to release each other from their grasps to stare at it. Beca rolls off his body, panting, snatching her shirt back in the process.

"Oh, shit. Am I interrupting something? Shit, this is awkward... Mom made breakfast so when you're ready..."

Jesse groans at the sound of his sister's voice, once again interrupting them for the second day in a row. She hears him grumble under his breath; something about Rylee ruining his life. She snickers, the creases in the corners of her eyes laughing at him.

"You're laughing! Stop that!" he says sternly, disgruntled. She's unable to stop her laughter as she pulls her shirt back on, reaching behind her back to re-clasp her bra.

"Fine, don't stop. I'll show you..." Suddenly she feels a pair of hands lace up her sides again, fingers feathering along her waist. She squirms and cries out for him to stop, begging him as her laughter turns into skittish school-girl giggles. She kicks the fronts of his legs as one hand lands on her neck, tickling her most vulnerable spots. If there was one thing Beca hated the most, it was getting tickled.

"What... do... you... want... from... me?!" she squeaks, fighting off his hovering body with balled fists as his fingers continue crawling over her sensitive skin. He eventually joins her, her laugh infectious. Gradually, his hands slip from her skin and wrap around her hips, lifting her off the bed and onto her feet. She glares at him, her laughter fading away.

He buries his head into her hair, his lips touching her ear, sending a bolt of electricity through her body. "Breakfast?"

She turns around, facing him. She studies his face, confused at the excitement in his eyes, yet something in them hinted calmness. She wasn't sure exactly what just happened in the last hour. They've gone through about a hundred different emotions, something that disturbed her, but didn't surprise her. She shrugs and straightens her composure, leading the way out his room and down the stairs to where there was a platter of fruit and pancakes waiting for them.

"Merry Christmas Eve and good morning! I thought you weren't staying the night, Beca," Mrs. Swanson says, offering the two plates and utensils from the cupboard.

"Yeah, well, I accidentally fell asleep when the kids asked me to watch a movie with them last night..." she admits, embarrassed. They each take a plate, thanking the beaming woman before claiming their pancakes and fruit.

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Swanson hums, taking a seat at the table, where Rylee, Alex, and Cara were already seated. "Do you plan on staying another night? You're more than welcome to."

"Actually, I was just going to ask about that. If you really don't mind..." Beca looks at Jesse's surprised face, shrugging. "I mean, the airport's closer from here than at Barden. It's probably more convenient, anyways."

"That's true. I'll bring you a couple of towels later, then. I'm glad you're staying with us, it's not a problem at all." The older woman smiles, assuring Beca that all was well.

From across the table, Rylee was staring at the two with an amused smirk on her face, with Alex and Cara chewing their pancakes indifferently. Jesse meets his sister's gaze and glares at her. She narrows her eyes knowingly, knowing just what it takes to set her little brother off. Alex notices and swallows his food, shaking his head.

"Deja Vu. It's like I'm a teenager again," he tells Beca, rolling his eyes at his siblings.

"What?"

"The evil eyes. Rylee's going to say something and Jesse's going to want to hurt her, but he won't because Mom's here and she doesn't tolerate violence in this household," Alex whispers from across the table to Beca. Rylee and Jesse turn to glare at their brother, who goes on eating his food.

"Merry Christmas Eve, my sweet baby brother," she says sweetly before turning to the petite brunette, "and Beca."

Beca gives her a curt nod, chewing her food slowly. Her eyes flicker to Jesse angrily gnawing his food, trying not to laugh.

"You seem grumpy this morning," Rylee comments, swirling her tea using the tag of her teabag. "That's no fun."

"Yeah, it isn't," he grumbles, planting a victorious smile on the older brunette's face, "And it's all thanks to you."

"I'm happy to be the source to all your misery, Jess."

Mrs. Swanson clears her throat loudly, eying her children warily. "So, what's the agenda for the day? Have anything planned?"

"The kids have been bugging me to take them ice skating all week so I thought I'd take them later. The rink closes early today, so once I finish up here I'll get them ready." Cara says, drizzling her third and final pancake with maple syrup. "You guys should come with us."

"Now that sounds like fun," Rylee claps, a gradual smirk creeping onto her face. "Doesn't it, Jesse?"

Jesse turns to his mother, gulping. "It sure does, but unfortunately I was planning on helping mom with the house today. You know, cleaning up, making food..." he laughs nervously. Beca raises a subtle eyebrow, noticing Jesse's flighty approach. "Plus, Beca and I are going to go get her stuff from the Treble house, and I don't want to waste time—"

"You can go, Brett and Michelle will be here to help. You two go after or before you get your things," his mother says, swatting her son away with her words. He's about to disagree with her when she interrupts him, "You never see the kids or your brothers and sisters for that matter, go spend quality time with them. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, mom will be fine," Rylee reassures her annoyed brother. He holds in a snort, instead giving her a warm smile. Beca observes him cut the pancake into eight slices, stab a piece with his fork, and chew on it unenthusiastically. She hides her smile, enjoying his embarrassment, yet at the same time not wanting to hurt his feelings. As much as she loves seeing him getting teased by his older sister, she knew he was feeling miserable. It was all jokes until ice skating was mentioned, where she noticed a visible shift in his attitude go from playful to alarm. She places a hand on his knee and squeezes it, hoping to comfort him, unsure of the underlying emotion underneath.

"You were pretty lenient on staying at the Treble house not too long ago... What happened there?" Jesse asks, hopping out of the shower before Beca. The two decided to stay at the Treble house before heading out to the rink, where they'd meet with Rylee, Cara, Alex, and the kids around one.

She shuts off the water, holding an arm out of the shower and a moment later feeling a towel being draped over it. "You're pretty reluctant to go ice skating... What's going on there?" Beca retorts, smirking as she wraps the cloth around her body before stepping out. She curses herself for letting him convince her that showering together would "save time and water", squeezing around his wet body to get around the tiny space to get to the lotion.

"You can't counter that with that!" he whines, crossing his arms over his chest. She rolls her eyes, lathering the coconut scented cream over her legs. He ties a towel around his waist and steps out of the cramped room. He shuffles through his drawers, easily picking out a pair of jeans and an olive long-sleeved shirt.

"And why not?" she demands, scanning the outfit he picked out with a critical eye. "Are you really going to wear jeans while ice skating?"

"Why not?" he asks, mocking her tone. She scrunches her nose and throws his deodorant stick at him. He ducks, frowning. "Anyways, you didn't answer my question."

"Can't a person change their mind?" she shrugs, tiptoeing out of the bathroom and into his room, throwing her stuff out of her suitcase and onto the floor. She digs through the mess, trying to find yoga pants and a pair of jeans to wear after, along with a jacket and plain shirt.

"Yeah... But you're you."

"So?"

"So, what I'm trying to say is that you aren't someone who adapts to change willingly," he reasons. He pulls his shirt on before his pants, staring at them hesitantly.

"Do you want me to change my mind? Because it's working."

"No! I just want to know what changed your mind in the first place, that's all."

"You heard me talking to your mom, right?" she cocks an eyebrow at him, who nods. "There's your answer, nerd." He opens his mouth to argue, still pantless, but she interrupts him. "Would you put some pants on? It's distracting."

"Like the view?" He shakes his butt in her face, making her grimace. "You know you do," he says in a sing-song voice. She bites the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. His eyes set on the clothes scattered around her, spying a familiar pattern hanging out of her suitcase. He gets down on his knees and crawls towards it, weaving past Beca and her mess of clothes.

"What are you doing? Get your own pants!" She shoves him away, only to have him dodge her and snatch the fabric. Her eyes widen for a split second before composing herself, hoping to hide her embarrassment.

He grins, pointing a finger at her. "Thief!"

"I didn't steal anything," she hums, nonchalant.

"You're a thief and a liar!"

"I was just borrowing them, that's not stealing."

"I've been looking for these, they're my favorite pair! I didn't give you permission to borrow them, so it's technically thievery," he shouts in triumph, waving the pair of boxers in her face. She swats them away, huffing at his teasing.

"Fine, keep them. I don't care," she shrugs casually. "You know, you never answered my question, either."

He chuckles, masking his nervousness. "What, the ice skating thing?" She nods, finally finding the clothes and putting them on. "I just don't like ice skating, okay? What's the big deal?"

She gives him a look, making him sigh. "Exactly. What's the big deal? So what, you don't like ice skating," she stuffs the scattered clothes from the floor back into her suitcase, rolling it against the door. "What's the big deal?"

"Would you like to hear a sad story?"

She blinks, nodding.

"Once upon a time, there was this thirteen your old by who really liked this girl, and she loved to ice skate, so he took her out on a date to the rink. He, being a stupid, testosterone driven boy, promised her he knew how to skate, only to discover that he didn't. Would you like to guess how she discovered this?" he pauses, waiting for her to answer.

"Uh... Well, if you don't know how to skate, I'd think it would be blatantly obvious. The biggest clue would probably be gripping the walls or skating stiff-legged the entire time. Oh, and jeans. Damp jeans from falling so much." She eyes his own pair, watching him stuff it back into his drawer.

"Then what in the world do I wear?"

"I don't know. Jeans."

He scowls, taking the pants from out of the drawer again. "Anyways, you're right. But, not for this boy. He stepped onto the ice and fell flat on his face. I broke my nose and I had to get braces after getting a couple of teeth loose. She never spoke to me again and I was known as a loser throughout middle school."

"...That's it? That's the big deal?"

He frowns at her. "It's emotionally scarring! I had the worst experience and it continues to haunt me to this day. And I still can't skate!"

"If it makes you feel any better, I can't skate either. We can teach other," she encourages, hoping he couldn't see past her lie. She knew how to skate. She was quite good, actually.

"Even if that means you'll hang onto the wall with me?"

"Sure, I guess."

"BECA! YOU LIED! YOU'RE A BIG FAT LIAR!" Jesse yells. He was glued to the wall of the rink, his knuckles white underneath his gloves from gripping them so hard. She glides on the ice smoothly, the blade digging into the ice to stop next to him. The ice sprays onto his jeans, making him groan. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. I can never trust you again. This is the ultimate betrayal."

She rolls her eyes and pushes him playfully. He lets out a frightened scream, waving his hands around to balance himself. "Will you just take my hand? The kids are kicking your ass at this." She points out the three kids, though wobbly, up on their feet and in the middle of the ice with their parents. "You just saw me teach them how to skate and fall on their own. I am only here to help, and if you don't want it, fine." She turns to leave, only to be pulled back by his hand. She looks at it in triumph. "Good, now relieve yourself from the wall and take my other hand."

He hesitantly takes her remaining hand, his legs stiff in fear of falling. She glides backwards on the ice, pulling him farther and farther away from the wall. He holds her hand tightly, his grip cutting off circulation to her fingers. "This is making me nervous. That wall is apparently the only thing I can trust now."

"Shut up and relax, and loosen up your hand, my fingers are gonna fall off. Bend your knees and quit hunching. Keep your shoulders up."

"That's too much to remember!"

"If you can swing a bat then you can stand on ice!" she snaps, pulling away from his death grip suddenly.

He falters, grabbing her shoulder in panic. "You're not supposed to do that!"

"You wanna know why you fell when you were thirteen? You didn't step onto the ice sideways," she shakes her head, guiding him back to the entrance. "Now, go out and come back in. Sideways. And hold onto the wall, but this is the only time I'm letting you do that," she instructs her nervous boyfriend. He obliges, this time not making any excuses. "Good. Now watch me."

She brings the heels of her feet together, showing him how to walk on the ice. "See? Like a penguin."

He nods. "Like a penguin."

"You're lucky you have me for this, I hope you know that. I am helping you get over your past pain."

"And suppose I repeat it?"

"I'll never speak to you again and you'll be known as the loser of Barden University," she says with a straight face, making him gulp.

"You're cruel."

"I'm only here to help you," she shrugs, taking his hand again once he gets used to the penguin steps. "Okay, don't panic, but I want you to fall."

"What?!"

She shows him the correct way to fall, casually laying on the ice. Her eyebrows shoot up at his hesitance. It takes a couple of seconds to finally mimic her, sighing in relief knowing he wasn't dead. "Tuck your fingers in, like a fist." She demonstrates how to get back up, waiting for him to do so himself.

Once he does, he punches the air in victory. "I'm invincible!"

"Of course you are," she says, faking a smile. He rolls his eyes at her sarcasm. She takes his hand and shows him how to glide across the ice, eventually letting go without him noticing. She teaches him the basics, just enough for him to not make a fool out of himself. About an hour later, he's skating independently, albeit still wobbly. His pants were damp from falling over a dozen times, especially noticeable on his bottom, which Beca decides not to mention to him. Each time he'd yell a couple of curse words before taking a moment to compose himself up on his feet.

"Say, how'd you learn how to skate so well anyways?" he asks, slowly, but surely, skating beside her. She observes him quietly, proud of how far he's come in the little time they've been there. He still had two left feet, but at least they were working well enough for him to skate.

"I used to skate. Like baseball was your sport, figure skating was mine," she finally reveals to him. "I taught classes to little kids at the same time I was competing. I quit competing competitively when I was sixteen."

"So you could spin and stuff? I bet you were Olympic caliber," he grins, losing his balance in the process. He falls on his butt, flinching at the pain. He gets up without thought, making her chest swell with pride.

"Yeah, I could spin and stuff," she rolls her eyes playfully at him, enjoying herself. "I don't usually tell people that I used to skate."

"I noticed," he laughs, grabbing her hand. "So can you do the leg thing? Do the spinny thing!"

"Leg thing?"

"Yeah... You know," he lifts his right leg into the air, barely getting it past his ankle without falling on his butt again. "That leg thing."

"You mean a spiral?"

"Like the food?"

She groans. "I will not do the spinny thing or the leg thing."

"Teach me how to do them, then," he looks at her, pouting.

"Stop, you're just trying to get me to do it myself," she refuses to look at him. "Nice try. You're cute though, at least you have that."

"Damn it, you see right through me," he chuckles slowing to a stop before reaching his family in the middle of the rink. "Thank you for teaching me how to skate, Becs. I hope I impressed the cute girl who dragged me out here," he grins, making her smile.

"Which girl are we talking about, again?" she muses playfully.

"I thought it was obvious?" He glances at his family before sneaking a quick kiss on her lips. She blushes, blaming the cold for the rosy flush on her cheeks. "I have conquered all my fears! If I were a superhero, I'd most definitely be—"

"Shut up."