Kailor: Thank each and every one of you that took a moment out of your day to review. I appreciate it so much and I hope you're all having a wonderful time :)

For Beca, Barden wasn't so much a choice as an obvious conclusion. Not only did her father teach at the university, but her great-uncle had once lived here. He'd moved to Italy and left his house on the north side of town to Beca's mother and she had, in turn, passed it on to Beca. So that was that for her. Simple and practical.

Chloe, however, didn't have ties here. Instead, her reasons for choosing Barden college, and for not moving away after graduation, were many and varied. And they've only multiplied over the years.

At first, it was how big and beautiful the college was and how it was only a few hours from her parents' house. She loved the way everything was built around the campus, the way she could stand at the very edge of town and still see the green roof of Polk Hall in the distance. She loved that Aubrey had chosen to go there too.

Then it was the classes and the parties and the dorm rooms. The Weeping Willow café with its cozy booths and colorful walls. The back hills where she liked to lay in the sun while she studied. It was all gorgeous to her, like something out of her childhood daydreams. So even when her parents retired and moved down to Florida, Chloe was happy in Barden.

And, of course, there were the people. Jessica and Ashley, who she met in Biology class and then randomly ended up sitting next to at a Stevie Nicks concert. Flo, a barista at Weeping Willow that had Marketing across the hall from Chloe's history class. Cynthia Rose, the part-time campus security guard that once let Chloe into her dorm even though she'd forgotten her school ID. Lilly, the girl that sat in the corner of the union every morning, eating alone, until Chloe had invited her to sit with them one day.

Then there was Beca, who had turned out to be a three-for-one deal, because her friendship came with Stacie's and Amy's too. And, just when she thought she'd found all the best friends she could handle, Emily had shown up senior year and proven her wrong.

They were all wonderful and all on the list of things Chloe adored about Barden.

But one of her favorite things has always been the lake. And not because it's shaped like boobs (according to Amy).

Lake Barden sits at the base of the back hills, clear and blue and beautiful. There are a few docks on the west side where people throw parties, launch their boats, or have family days. Chloe's always had a thing for sitting back in the grass and watching young couples teach their kids to swim in the shallows or old men fish from the end of the dock. They rarely caught anything, but they always looked so happy. A small part of Chloe–the part that never truly stopped believing in unicorns and fairies–thinks the lake might be a little magic.

So when they all graduated and Flo opened the Bella Sol right on Lake Barden's shore, Chloe and the rest of their friends had been its first customers. She'd given up her little patch of grass in favor of a cushioned seat on the restaurant's back patio, where she could still watch lake goers, but could also order a sweet tea while she did.

And now, as Beca's bike flies along the road, following the curve of the lake, she smiles at the lights of the Bella Sol shining across the dark water. The parking lot is fairly empty, except for a few cars and a limo. That's to be expected. It's not late enough for partying college students to wander out this way and too late for the elderly couples that like to spend their afternoons here.

They park a few spots away from the limo and Chloe tugs off her ladybug helmet, eyeing it. "Do you think someone famous is here?" she asks as Beca cuts the engine.

"No way. Flo would have texted us." Beca pulls out her phone, holding it up so they can both see that the only notifications she has are emails from work and two snapchats from Stacie. "If she knew who they were," she says, throwing a wicked smirk over her shoulder.

Chloe frowns at the reminder. "How was I supposed to know 'that pretty hooker with the old boyfriend is here' meant Julia Roberts was in town?" She climbs off the bike, stomping her feet a little more than necessary. She's not actually still mad about not meeting Julia Roberts, but her pout makes Beca laugh. "I'm still crying about it."

"Okay, well, suck it up, princess. I'm starving."

They realize pretty quickly that it is not a famous person, but a bachelorette party. They've taken over the inside of the restaurant–seven or eight women, all wearing sashes and tiaras, drunkenly trying to sing along to the Spanish song playing from the overhead speakers. There's an abundance of feather boas and glow stick necklaces that clash spectacularly with the tame, tan walls of the restaurant.

"Oh my god," Beca whispers, eyes widening. "We're surrounded."

"Welcome to Bella So–oh, it's you." Flo stops beside them, dropping the menus in her hands onto the hostess podium. Her makeup and hair are flawless as ever, but there's a slightly frantic look in her eyes.

Beca tips her head back, rolling it to look at Chloe as she throws her hands up. "I knew we came here for a reason. The customer service!"

"Hello," Flo says, deadpan. "There are so many white women here and you all look alike. I thought you were more bride-gorillas." Her accent is thicker than usual, a clear sign that she's annoyed.

Chloe squints. "Do you mean bridezillas?"

"Is that not what I said?"

"Miss Fuentes!" one of the drunk women yells from the corner. "Can we get some more tah-KEY-lah over here!" She and her friends dissolve into giggles and Flo sighs.

"I have never wanted to be deported more than I do right now." She gives them a tight smile and waves down Javi, one of her waiters. "Your table is open. Pray for me."

They leave poor Flo to her jungle of bachelorettes and follow Javi outside. The patio's dimmer, lit only by the pink and gold lanterns strung up everywhere and the little electric tea lights on each table. Chloe smiles at the pink roses growing rampant through the latticework roof. Flo had made them all nominate and vote on the color before she opened.

Chloe likes winning.

"Ladies." Javi gestures to their spot by the railing with a flourish and a flick of his blonde ponytail. "The usual, yes? With an unending supply of sweet breads?"

"Javi, have I ever told you how attractive you are?" Beca drops into her seat with a grin.

He winks, pulling Chloe's chair out for her. "Like you have to?"

Beca blows him a kiss as he heads back inside. She smiles at Chloe and jerks her thumb after him. "That's the actual customer service I come for."

"And here I thought you came to have dinner with me."

"Who are you again?"

Chloe kicks her under the table and Beca grunts, both hands going to her shin.

They're still laughing when Javi returns with two glasses of sweet tea and a basket of bread that Beca immediately zeroes in on, pain forgotten. He's barely put the basket down before she's snatched one of the sweet, buttery rolls up and bitten into it.

Her moan is inappropriate enough to warrant an appreciative look from Chloe, but she doesn't seem to notice it. "Listen, Javi. If we weren't both gay?" She points at him, eyebrows up.

"Baby, you know it." He laughs. "I'll have your food out right away." He leaves them again and Chloe smiles as she watches Beca chew. It's almost like she's forgotten Chloe's there.

"Do I need to leave you and the bread alone?"

"Bite me, Beale." Beca pulls the lemon wedge off the lip of her glass and drops it into Chloe's, barely looking away from the basket. Then she stops, narrowed gaze flickering up. Her hand drifts toward her neck. "Scratch that. Once a day is enough."

"Mm. I'll save it for tomorrow then." Chloe bites her lip instead and snatches a roll before Beca can inhale them all.

"Speaking of bitches." Beca swallows–a feat that takes a while, considering how much bread she's just stuffed into her mouth. Chloe waits patiently, even though she's just been called a bitch. "Aubrey." She takes a sip of her tea. "Obviously, she was gonna be the godmother. I get that. But do you have a godfather in mind? Because if not," she leans back in her seat, gesturing to herself, "I think you should pick two godmothers and make me the second one. So if you and Aubrey both croak, the kid's mine." Her head tilts. "Or you could ask Amy. I bet she'd be into it."

"Amy isn't allowed around any child of mine without supervision, first off." Chloe gives Beca a pointed look until she agrees into her glass of tea. "And secondly, why would you want to be godmother when you could be the baby daddy?"

Beca snorts, choking on her tea.

Chloe offers her a napkin, giggling. She waits for Beca to stop laughing, biting the inside of her cheek and dropping the teasing. Because Beca's words have suddenly got her thinking. "Would you want to? Raise the baby?"

"Duh," Beca says, no hesitation. "I mean, obviously I don't want anything to happen to you. Or Aubrey," she quickly adds at Chloe's half-hearted glare. "Or your parents, because I know they'd be next on the list. But, if it did… Yeah. It's your kid, dude. I've got it." Her attention drops back to the last bread roll. "I told you. You're not alone."

Chloe's been too caught up in wrapping her mind around there being a child to think much about its life. Aubrey being the godmother was just a given, something she knew without thinking. They've talked about it before, about buying houses next door to each other and how their kids would grow up as best friends just like them. How they'd get old and sit on the porch together in their rocking chairs, yelling at anyone that wandered onto their lawns.

But Beca? She's become a forever presence in Chloe's life too. Beca may have fought their friendship at first, but she gave that up ages ago. They both know she will have her own rocking chair on the porch one day, to Aubrey's (pretend) dismay. (Considering the fourth chair would be taken by Stacie, who is both the love of Aubrey's life and Beca's best friend, Aubrey couldn't argue even if she actually wanted to.)

So of course she'll be a forever presence in the life of Chloe's child. That, like Aubrey being the godmother, is a given. A simple fact that Chloe hadn't even thought to wonder about. If she had thought about it, maybe she would have pictured Beca as the cool aunt that her child would idolize above all others. The favored babysitter who lets them stay up late and watch horror movies and overload on sugar.

But here she is, talking about being a second godmother as if she's offering to pick Chloe up some food on her way over to visit, as if it's just as simple. The kind of thing that Chloe would thank her for and Beca would wave off with a grin.

Chloe thinks she should be more surprised, more stunned. But instead, she thinks she should have seen this coming. Because Beca has always given more than Chloe asked of her. Even when they were strangers and Chloe had expected absolutely nothing, Beca had saved her from Russian Lit Guy. And then when Chloe thought they'd become friends, Beca had instead become a best friend, a forever friend. It's what Beca does–she goes above and beyond and acts like it isn't a big deal.

"Besides," Beca suddenly continues, breaking the silence. "Who's gonna teach them to be cool if I don't do it? You and Aubrey are both nerds." She pops the last bite of bread into her mouth, eyes twinkling like they always do when she doesn't actually mean the insult she's just delivered.

Chloe really tries not to. Like, really tries. But her heart feels like it's just been wrapped in the warmest blanket and the fluttering in her stomach is stronger than ever, so it's not her fault that she fails.

And when Beca notices she's crying, her whole face shifts toward panic and she's suddenly scooting her chair around the table to get closer. "Oh, shit. Dude, don't cry. Oh, no. I'm– You guys aren't actually nerds, I didn't mean–" She jumps a little as Chloe throws her arms around her, squeezing tight.

"Beca." Chloe buries her nose in Beca's neck, breathing deeply. "Will you be the other godmother?"

"Oh." Beca's hands stutter to a stop on Chloe's back and some of the tension slips from her body. "I– Well, yeah."

The awkward response makes Chloe laugh and she pulls back, reaching for a napkin to dry her eyes. "You're adorable."

Beca gives her a lazy shrug and that smile that's always made her heart feel fuzzy.

They're halfway through dinner, still sitting fairly close together, and Beca's ranting about some new artist at work when the patio door opens again.

A woman in a sparkly silver dress steps out. A purple feather boa is wrapped loosely around her shoulders and her tiara is dangling from her blonde curls, barely holding on. She stops when she sees them, blinking sluggishly.

"Oh my god." She stumbles over and drops into the closest chair. "Are you guys, like...married?" She grabs Chloe's left hand and it's only then that Chloe realizes she's still wearing Beca's ring. The woman squeezes her fingers, staring at it. "That's so cute."

"Oh." Beca frowns. She lifts a hand to cover her still full mouth. "We, uh–"

"Are," Chloe says, cutting her off. "We've been together, what? Four years now, babe?" Beca's dark gaze flits across her face and Chloe smiles brightly–a silent invitation to join the game. She nearly bounces with happiness when Beca sighs. A clear acceptance.

"Almost four years," she says, settling back in her seat. "We didn't like each other for a while first."

Chloe gasps and, after a drunken delay, the woman does too. "I liked you! You didn't like me."

"I didn't want to like you. There's a difference." Beca lifts her glass, smirking behind it. Probably because they both know that part isn't a lie.

Chloe shifts her chair closer and leans into Beca's side. She smiles when Beca lifts an eyebrow, but doesn't move away. "And why didn't you want to like me exactly?"

"Too cliché." Beca puts her tea down. Her thumb glides through the condensation on the glass, sending drops racing for the table. "The prettiest girl in class? Who's nice to everyone?" She shakes her head. "Come on."

That's something to tuck away and tease Beca about later, but for now, Chloe just smiles and rests her hand on Beca's thigh. The muscle under her palm tenses and relaxes, a quick, rippling movement that she wouldn't have noticed at all if she hadn't been pressed against it. "I wasn't the prettiest girl in class," she says. "You were."

Beca scoffs, face scrunching as she looks away. It's hard to tell through her hair and in the dim light of the patio, but the back of her ear looks suspiciously pink.

"You guys are, like, so sweet." The woman sighs happily. "I'm getting married." She waves a very large diamond in their faces. Very large. Like Chloe's a little impressed she can still lift her hand. "I hope we end up like you."

Happy drunk girls are always so complimentary. Chloe adores them. "What's your name?"

It takes her a moment, much to Beca's not so subtle amusement. "Sierra."

"Hi, Sierra. I'm Chloe. This is Beca. My wife," she singsongs with a shimmy of her shoulders and a wide grin. Beca rolls her eyes, but she's smiling too.

"Your wifeeeee," Sierra drawls. "Man, I want a wife." She frowns, gaze unfocused. "No, wait. I want a husband. I'm gonna have a husband!" Her face lights up. "I'm getting married!" She snatches up Chloe's hand again, holding it tightly. "What was your wedding like? Did-did you cry?"

"So much," Chloe says. She bats her eyelashes. "Not as much as Beca, though."

Beca scratches at her nose with her middle finger.

Sierra sniffs, suddenly teary-eyed. "That's love. True love." Her slurring voice fades out and she tilts dangerously far to the side. Chloe carefully pulls her back up straight.

"Sierra!" Another bachelorette hurries out onto the patio. She spots them and throws her hands up. "Oh, thank god! We've been looking for you. The limo's leaving!" She gathers her friend out of the chair. Chloe shoos away her apologies, waving goodbye as they stumble off.

"I love lesbians," Sierra mumbles as they head back in.

Chloe looks at Beca and they both burst out laughing. She bumps her shoulder against Beca's, giggling. "That was fun."

"That was ridiculous."

"It was fun," Chloe insists, squeezing the thigh she's still holding.

Beca's gaze flicks down to the movement and she smirks. "Getting pretty handsy, Beale." Her smirk shifts into a real smile, letting Chloe know it isn't a complaint. "It's been a while."

Guilt stirs to life in her gut. Her decision to dial back her physical affection with her friends had been a silent one, but she knew Beca could tell right away. It was a noticeable difference with her, after all. "I know. I'm sorry." Right then and there, she vows to never again date someone that doesn't immediately accept that part of her. Because as fun as her relationship with Tom had been, it wasn't worth not being able to lean into Beca's side and feel her breathing. Nothing will keep her from this again.

"Don't be sorry." Beca shrugs, picking up her drink. "I get it. You had a boyfriend." She doesn't sound upset and that soothes Chloe's guilt some.

"Mm." Chloe purses her lips, wanting to make Beca smile again. "I thought you'd appreciate the break from my constant invasion of your personal space." She's mostly teasing, but it's kind of true. Beca isn't a touchy-feely person normally. Sure, she's graciously given Chloe a pretty big affection budget to work with over the years, but Chloe had still thought she'd like a reprieve.

Beca laughs. "Well, you've been wrong before. Don't be too surprised, dude." Then, before Chloe can even wrap her mind around that, Beca leans forward and waves down Javi, muttering something about more bread.