A/N: Hey, American readers. Happy Thanksgiving! Consider this chapter my gift to you... to say that I am forever grateful for all your love and support. And non-American readers, obvi I'm thankful for all of you, too. Duh.

Beca stood still near the closed door. She looked at Chloe, who was patting the spot next to her on the bed in a silent appeal for the younger girl to join her. Beca felt frozen in place, like her feet were rooted to the floor beneath her. The past 48 hours had brought with them an inability for Beca to feel anything but anxious in her best friend's presence. And she hated it. She wondered to herself if it would ever feel normal again if she stood by her agreement to embark on this… thing with Chloe. Whatever it was.

Across the room, Chloe cleared her throat, still looking at her with querying eyes. Beca tilted her head to the plush, pink armchair below the window, then looked back to Chloe as she pointed one finger in its direction. The red head shrugged, but nodded and Beca crossed to the chair.

"What's up?" Chloe asked innocently as Beca sat. Something about it rubbed her the wrong way. Chloe knew very well why she was here, what she wanted, no needed, to discuss. So why bother asking something so pointless?

"You know what's up." The words came out a bit angrier than she intended, but she couldn't help it. This whole situation had her on edge. She wasn't mad at Chloe, just baffled by her, by what had happened and how it had made her feel and her confusion was manifesting itself in the form of exasperated irritation.

Chloe spoke steadily, "Yeah… I do…" Her voice was soft. The air of the room shifted to something thick and suffocating. Somewhere far away, Beca could hear the faintest bassline of music. It was seeping under the door from someone else's room, probably Stacie's. The noise only served to highlight the deafening silence of the room they were currently occupying and Beca shifted in her seat restlessly. Sure, she was the one who came here to talk, but now that she was here, sitting in front of Chloe, she really wasn't sure what she should say.

And evidently, neither was Chloe, whose voice echoed through the room with a frustration similar to that which she had shown moments earlier. "Well, what do you want me to say, Beca?"

Even though she sounded entirely different, her name coming from the red head's mouth flashed her instantly back to the night before, to the hot breath on her ear, to the gravelly tone of Chloe's voice, to the twisting feeling in her stomach. And that's when Beca realized what she wanted Chloe to say. She wanted her to answer for the rousing she'd caused. Maybe she was mad at her friend. She wanted an apology, or maybe not an apology, but an explanation for the other girl's behavior. For what it had done to Beca. She felt weirdly… violated? No, that wasn't the right word. But Beca wasn't sure what was. She felt something kind of icky about the way Chloe had touched her. No, not the way she'd touched her, really, but the way she had made Beca feel. She did not consent to these feelings. She did not want them. And she wanted to forget she'd ever had them.

But then maybe it wasn't so much a Chloe problem as it was a Beca problem. She'd lost control of her own body for a moment. She hated not being able to manage every movement, every feeling. Yes, she knew how ridiculous that second part was. No one had control over their emotional response that way. But Beca found that fact infuriating, particularly in a situation like this one. She had to figure out how to get ahold of herself. It was like floating in an anti-gravity chamber and every attempt she made to right herself, she found herself looking up at what she had thought to be the ceiling, but then quickly realized was, in fact, the floor and she was still somehow upside down.

She reminded herself why she had come to Chloe's room in the first place. They needed to talk about what had happened. It was the only chance Beca had to plant her feet firmly on the actual floor again.

"I don't know, Chlo. I just know that we need to talk about this…" she offered, as kindly as she could manage.

The red head gently nodded, "Okay." Her voice was much calmer and Beca relaxed a bit into the chair. This was going to be fine. They were going to talk this out rationally. But as Chloe's lips quirked into a mischievous grin, Beca silently scolded herself for thinking it'd be that easy. Because of course Chloe wasn't going to make this easy. "So, why don't you tell me about why you kissed me last night?"

The brunette immediately shot to her feet and headed for the door. "Forget it," she muttered, "I can't—"

"Beca, STOP." She froze, her hand poised over the door knob. "I'm sorry, okay?" She looked over her shoulder at Chloe. She'd shifted, her body was now turned toward the door and she had one leg folded onto the bed, gripping her own ankle in front of her with both hands.

The brunette let out an incensed sigh and turned to face her friend properly. She knew she should apologize, knew she was overreacting at least a little, but Beca wasn't exactly the apologizing type… "Fine. But this is serious, okay?"

"I know. I'm sorry," Chloe breathed honestly. "I was just trying to lighten the mood. I mean, Jesus, Beca. You're acting like a natural disaster just wiped out half the city. This isn't a big deal..."

"This is a big deal!" Beca snapped.

"It really, really doesn't have to be." Beca just blinked at her. Why didn't she get it? I mean, obviously Chloe was all cool and nonchalant about these sorts of things, but didn't she know Beca well enough by now to know that despite her tough guy exterior she was neither cool nor nonchalant? "It's okay. Just sit, please. We'll talk about this." Beca stared at her suspiciously. "No more jokes," Chloe swore, holding up both hands in defeat. "Cross my heart," she continued, making a show of tracing an "X" over her chest with her right index finger.

Arms crossed, Beca rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. She glared at Chloe, squinting pointedly, but with a shake of her head, she ultimately resumed her seat in the pink arm chair. Her shoulders were slouched, arms still folded, as she stared at the carpet below.

A long moment passed, but just as Beca was beginning to regret her decision to sit back down, Chloe spoke. "So…?" was all she offered at first and the DJ clicked her tongue in response, still refusing to look up at the woman in front of her. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Chloe," she warned.

"What? I mean it. I know you want to talk about what I said, about what we did… but you've got to give me a little more than just that."

Beca couldn't stifle the sigh that escaped her, but she couldn't be mad, not really. Chloe was right. If they were going to talk about this, Beca was going to have to do at least some of the talking. She shifted her position, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands together in front of her. She stared at them as she worried the nail of her left thumb with her right. She could feel the red head watching her. Without raising her gaze to meet Chloe's, she began to speak, slowly at first: "This, uh, thing that you… like, want to do? With me?" She paused, and the rest of the words came out too quickly, like a horse out of the gate at a racetrack. "Why? I mean, what is it you want to do exactly?" Beca's eyes flashed up immediately to meet Chloe's. Dark, steely eyes fixed on soft, light ones. The older girl didn't respond right away, and Beca appreciated that she was taking a moment to be sure she was done talking. Or at least that's what she thought Chloe was doing, but as she peered into those crystal blue pools, Beca recognized something distinct in them. Something like caution, like fear. And it was surprising to Beca, who had assumed this whole thing was comparatively innocuous for Chloe.

"I'm…not entirely sure? I mean, I know that I want to–" she paused, choosing her next words carefully, "–to be with you. But I don't really know what that means yet… either." That last word was an afterthought, and she looked at Beca rather curiously as she said it. The red head's response was delicate and deliberate. There was a hesitation to her words, which confirmed Beca's suspicion that the other girl was afraid… of something. But what? It certainly wasn't the same fear that Beca was feeling. No, this was something else…

"Be with me?" she repeated back. Chloe looked down at the bedspread and nodded. Beca thought she looked almost sad. Whatever she was scared of was doing more than just causing her to hesitate. It was overtaking her, making her act almost shy. And if there was one thing Chloe Beale wasn't, it was shy. But Beca appreciated the quiet solemnity. She certainly couldn't handle bubbly effervescence at this particular moment. Chloe's demure was a clear indication that she was taking this conversation seriously, and for that Beca was grateful. "What does that mean? 'Be with me?'"

"I—" Chloe stopped. She stopped. She had something to say, had an answer at the ready, knew what she wanted, but she stopped.

Why? What doesn't she want to tell me?

Silence once again settled over the bedroom. Beca was wrong. This whole "talking about it" thing wasn't helping. She felt even more confused than before. She thought Chloe was just being her usual weird self with this whole experimentation thing. She assumed the confession in the tent had been a pretty spontaneous one, but Beca was getting the impression now that it was actually, like, intentionally planned. And maybe Chloe didn't exactly expect Beca to say 'yes,' in whatever silent, abnormal way she had because it seemed like Chloe wasn't sure which way to step next, how she should play her hand… which also lead the brunette to feel like her best friend was hiding something from her. That thought churned her stomach, and not in the strangely pleasant way her stomach had churned the night before. Yeah, this "talking about it thing" was definitely not helping.

Chloe broke the silence after what felt like hours. "Do we have to, like, lay out every detail? Is it okay if we just… sort of see where this 'thing' goes?" Beca heard her, but her words sounded almost distant. Her thoughts were elsewhere, focused instead on the soft, pink hue of Chloe's lips, remembering the feel of them against her own. If this "talking about it" thing wasn't working, maybe Chloe was right. Maybe they should just… see where this goes. Beca wasn't really the "go with the flow" type and she wondered momentarily how it was that Chloe was able to get her to a point where control just wasn't important, how she could just trust Chloe so implicitly… It was nothing short of astounding to Beca, the poster child for "trust issues." How did she do it? How had she gotten so deep under Beca's skin without Beca even noticing she'd done it? The red head must have possessed magical powers. It was the only reasonable explanation. Honestly, that'd make sense of quite a few things: like how she'd managed to reduce Beca to a puddle, a non-thinking puddle that nodded its silent agreement to the weirdest thing that had ever been asked of her to date; like the way Chloe's touch had electrified her skin; and the way her kiss had knotted Beca's stomach. "That is," Beca's gaze was still focused on Chloe's lips as they were tugged into a sweet smile, "assuming your nod from last night still holds true… that you still want to do this 'thing' with me?"

Try as she might, Beca couldn't tear her stare away from the other girl's mouth. A long moment passed, and Chloe's smile only grew. The brunette swallowed and licked her own lips before managing to look up at crystal blue eyes once more. What she found there ripped her abruptly from her daydream, and she tucked her head down, gaping wide-eyed at the carpet again. She'd been caught staring, been caught red-handed. And there was no way Chloe wasn't going to use that to her advantage.

"Can I take that as a yes, then?" Chloe giggled.

"Sorry," Beca muttered under her breath, without looking up.

"Oh, please, Becs. Don't be stupid." She still sounded light, but also a sort of frustrated. She paused. "Can you look at me?"

Upon request, it seemed, she could. Her eyes snapped up to meet Chloe's. "Very good," the red head praised. Normally Beca would have found that condescending, but there was something odd in the way Chloe was looking her, not unlike the way she looked in the tent just before Beca had kissed her. So instead of irritated, she found herself once again entranced by Chloe. "What else can you do?" the girl teased. "Can you… come sit next to me?"

Again, normally she would have found this kind of talk annoying. But she could hear Chloe's voice gradually shifting to something low and rough. Beca couldn't resist it. It really was like Chloe had cast some sort of spell over her. She stood and crossed toward the girl, her brain foggy as she did. Her friend tapped the space next to her on the bed and Beca obliged, shifting a bit awkwardly as she situated herself. Chloe leaned in toward her, dragging a finger from Beca's knee up her thigh.

"Can you say it?" she whispered against Beca's ear. "Can you admit that you want this?"

Beca couldn't breathe. She felt drunk and dizzy. The air around her had become stifling. Was she sweating? Neurons weren't firing like they should. Words were lodged somewhere in the back of her throat, but she couldn't quite utter them.

Chloe pulled back a bit. Beca could feel her penetrating stare; she shut her eyes tightly, tried to ignore it, but Chloe's voice floated back into her ear, this time a bit more serious and a bit less sexy. "I need to hear you say it." She meant it. Beca knew it. And she knew that whatever pleasure Chloe derived from hearing Beca say those words, this particular ask was more logistical in nature. Chloe had to be sure the brunette was really, truly okay with this. No, not just okay, but that it was something that Beca wanted, too. This was a turning point, one the DJ was pretty sure there was no coming back from. She stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the expanse below. Despite what might be in her best interest of self-preservation, she somehow came to the insane conclusion that she should jump.

"Yeah, Chlo. I want this—to do this thing… with you."

Suddenly, Chloe was straddling her lap. Beca's jaw dropped as she found herself face to face with the girl's chest. Her eyes grew wide as she stared ahead, shocked, but Chloe's hands gripped either side of her face, pulling her chin upward to look at her. The previously undefinable glint in Chloe's eyes had suddenly become very definable. She was pretty sure she'd never seen the look on Chloe before, but she recognized it nevertheless: desire.

"Is this okay?" Chloe asked sincerely. For once, the brunette didn't break eye contact. She shook her head in three quick, subtle nods. "It doesn't have to mean anything, you know?" Beca nodded again, more firmly. She believed her. She really did, but she didn't get much time to consider it, as Chloe's mouth instantly found hers. The kiss was gentle at first and Beca stared blankly ahead, at Chloe's closed eyes, still surprised by the turn of events. The sound of the red head inhaling deeply through her nose forced Beca's eyes closed. She pressed forward, moving her lips lightly against Chloe's, who quietly groaned in approval as Beca wrapped her arms around the other girl's waist. She linked her fingers together, then felt Chloe's tongue peek out of her mouth and slide delicately across her upper lip. Beca couldn't stop the sound that escaped her, but this time she wasn't trying to. And so she parted her lips, granting her best friend the access she sought. She wasn't going to overthink this. She was "going with the flow" on this one, seeing where this might take her, seeing where this might take them.

A/N: Reviews please? Now that we're a few chapters in, I'd really love some feedback on what you all think of this story...