A/N: As always thank you to Mary who uses her magical wonderful super special awesome beta powers to make this more coherent. She is awesome!

"Alrighty, put 'em up here," Chloe patted the coffee table in her living room. Beca obliged and placed her six year old frayed and duct taped bag on the dark wooden surface. Chloe's home was smaller than Beca had expected, cozy and inviting and not at all like the posh mansion she'd expected. She shifted on the comfy suede couch and tried not to notice how close Chloe was sitting to her, their legs nearly touching. Chloe had a thing for ignoring personal space, Beca had discovered quickly in the half hour she had known the redhead. The weird thing was Beca hadn't noticed it straight away, and Beca always had had a thing against other human contact, or maybe she hadn't before she closed everyone off around her.

"Scalpel," Chloe held out her hand in front of Beca.

She blinked. "What?"

"Wow, no medical humor huh?" Chloe grinned. "Gimme the scissors then, buzz kill."

"Sorry Dr. House," Beca rolled her eyes and handed over the vividly pink scissors, Chloe's fingers brushing against her palm as she took them.

"It's too late now, the moment's gone."

"They always say time is fleeting."

"Yeah?" Chloe raises an eyebrow. "Well I'd rather make time my bitch. I know how to drag out a moment if I want to."

It was then that Beca realized that their hands were still touching, and Chloe was staring at her like she was something worth staring at, which she definitely wasn't, and Beca twitched her hand back and hastily turned the motion into a cough.

There was a small smile playing on Chloe's lips as she turned her attention back to Beca's book bag, threading a needle with proficiency. "Oh hey, I forgot to ask if you wanted anything to drink or something."

"Um," Beca pulled herself together from Chloe's soft blue stare. "No I'm uh fine, thanks."

Chloe pulled the needle through the worn fabric, completing the first stitch, "Beca, you're like a little twig. I insist you eat something besides the glucose you photosynthesize during the day."

"I'm not a little twig," Beca said indignantly, "I'm just-"

"Fun size?" Chloe finished with a grin,wiggling her eyebrows.

Beca turned red. "Dude, no!"

Chloe laughed, but to Beca's surprise it was a sweet one, and not the kind that she heard behind her back at school. Chloe placed a hand on her shoulder, "Bec, I'm kidding. But I wasn't about you eating or getting a drink or something."

"Maybe water I guess," Beca replied, face still warm.

"Ok," Chloe smiled, turning back to sew a few more stitches. "Glasses are in the first cupboard on the left, or there's bottles in the fridge."

"Thanks."

Beca made her way into the small, tidy kitchen and paused with her hand on the refrigerator door. There were a few photos of a younger Chloe, probably twelve or thirteen, with her parents. They all had the quality of those photos that come with a frame when you buy them, except they were one hundred percent genuine, not posed in the slightest. Beca couldn't help but smile at one where Chloe was kissing her dad, thinning red hair and a kind smile he'd passed on to his daughter, on the cheek as her mom watched laughing in amusement.

"Didya get lost in the legit Poland spring, Bec?" Chloe called to her, voice bubbly. Beca yanked the door open in surprise, found a water bottle and shut the refrigerator door with a snap. She scurried back into the living room, fiddling with the label on the bottle.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I was uh…those are nice pictures. Your parents look really nice."

"Yeah," Chloe said, voice surprisingly soft.

"Do they," Beca began, cursing herself for being so lame at small talk. "I mean what do they do?"

"My mom's a veterinarian," Chloe answered, "At that place up on the highway like, twenty minutes from here?"

"You have no pets."

Chloe smiled, "Weird right? Mom says she gets too attached to the ones at work. I had a goldfish once though."

"Named Goldy?" Beca tucked a piece of her hair behind her heavily pierced ear as she sat back down on the couch.

"Yup!"

"I'm a psychic," Beca grinned.

"Or you just know that seven year olds name things pretty predictably."

Beca dropped her jaw in mock offense. "How dare you. Let me dream, would you?"

"Sorry, Raven Baxter."

"What about your dad?" Beca said, gaining some confidence with the conversation. She was amazed at how effortless it was to talk to Chloe, it was always such a chore for her to talk to people in general and yet here she was-

Chloe's face fell immediately at the question. She bit her lip, looking down at Beca's backpack, picking the needle up again in her hands.

"Shit," whispered Beca quietly, all confidence gone now, nervously twisting one of the leather bracelets on her wrists, "Shit, Chloe I'm really sorry you don't have to- it wasn't my place to ask I-"

"He…" Chloe's voice was uncharacteristically quiet, shaking slightly. "He passed away."

There was suddenly a heavy silence in the room, and Beca had twisted her bracelet so hard against her wrist that she was sure she'd rubbed it raw.

"I'm really, really sorry Chloe," Beca said, so sincere she surprised herself.

"When I was fourteen," Chloe said, fingers closing around her necklace. "He had pancreatic cancer and it all happened so fast and I know it was like four years ago but there's still times where I walk downstairs in the morning expecting him to be there making his specialty omelets and..."

Beca's hand seemed to have a mission of its own and she caught it moving towards Chloe's hand but she retracted it with a twitch, changing direction at the last second to grab her water bottle on the table instead.

"It's hard," Beca said quietly. "He's a constant thing in your life and then without warning he's gone."

"Yeah," Chloe agreed, slightly surprised.

"It's just," Beca struggled to find words. "I kinda know how it feels in a way. My dad left when I was around the same age. It sucks."

"Divorce?" Chloe asked sympathetically.

"Yeah. Messy," Beca shrugged.

"Bec, I'm sorry."

"It's...whatever," Beca shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "It's over."

"Sometimes it feels like it isn't."

Beca looked at her and found only sincerity in her expression and suddenly she felt like Chloe wasn't just talking about Beca's situation, but like she was reminding herself too. Like she was inviting Beca to say more, if she wanted. She looked down, not sure how to respond.

"Sorry," Chloe apologized, resuming the stitching of Beca's bag a bit awkwardly, "I didn't mean to get all Dr. Phil on you."

"It's fine," Beca found her voice again. Silence permeated the room again for a few minutes, but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable.

"Ta da!" Chloe knotted off the thread and cut it with a flourish. "Good as new!"

Chloe placed the bag in Beca's hands and patted it affectionately, "A good patient." She winked and gave Beca's shoulder a nudge. "And even better company."

Beca blinked in surprise, she found it was getting to be a common reaction in Chloe's presence, followed by a crooked grin. "Stellar surgeon."

The two talked for a while, about school and the cafeteria's disgraceful hotdogs that had been served that day. The topics were random and yet had a weird fluidity about them, but before long, Beca's mom texted her that dinner would be in fifteen, and she had better get her flannel butt home asap, colon right parenthesis.

"Your mom sounds pretty cool," Chloe said as they climbed back into her car, Chloe had insisted on the ride home.

"Yeah," Beca agreed with a small smile. "Yeah she is."

"This is me," Beca pointed out the window to the right at a small, gray house and Chloe pulled over.

"Okeydokey," Chloe put the car in park and turned to face Beca.

"Hey um," Beca began, taking a breath. "Thanks for everything, the ride and the unplanned SR visit and stuff."

Chloe beamed at her. "Anytime, Bec."

Beca smiled back shyly and got out of the car. "Bye, Chloe."

"Bye, Beca."

Beca shut the door, gave a little wave and turned and walked into her house where she found her mom waiting for her, hands on her hips.

Dark brown hair was falling out of Mrs. Mitchell's bun from a long day at work, her shoulders stooped with exhaustion, but a smilespread across her thin face.

"Who was that?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A girl," Beca replied noncommittally. "Who gave me a ride home."

"Mhmm," her mom nodded with a knowing smile. "She's pretty."

"Shut up, Mom," Beca said, retreating to her room before her mom could see her face turn pink.

"Very pretty!" Mrs. Mitchell yelled after her daughter's retreating form. Beca slammed her door shut and ran her fingers through her hair, overwhelmed by the entire day, but particularly by the tail end of it.

She ran her fingers over the new stitching of her backpack in thought.

"Dinner, Becs!"

Her mom's voice brought Beca out of her thoughts of rare kind words, sincere blue eyes and wavy red hair. Just as she was about to leave her room, her phone dinged cheerfully from where it sat on the bed. Confused, she picked it up to read the text on the screen from Chloe.

Hey Beca! Had fun today, we totes need to hang out again soon! :)

Beca rolled her eyes and dropped her phone onto her bed and was out the door, the smallest of smiles on her face as she went.