Pitch Perfect 1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note:_ So, this is just a short little fic and I don't think it's going to hurt anyone too much if I pretend like Aubrey and Chloe were juniors during the movie. So, basically, everything's the same with the Bellas, only they've already won the ICCAs and have already had the time to get to know each other.

* * *

Beca heaved in a deep breath as she knocked on the door to Chloe and Aubrey's apartment. Aubrey wasn't home yet – and wouldn't be for another hour or so, Beca was sure – but she knew what was coming, and she couldn't focus on anything else, so waiting for Aubrey seemed to be her only option.

She just wanted to get this over with.

When Chloe appeared at the door, she engulfed Beca in a solid hug that lasted for what should have been entirely too long. But Beca needed it, and, because it was Chloe, she allowed her forehead to drop softly against the redhead's shoulder for a moment before Chloe urged her inside.

Neither said anything until they were situated on the couch, and Beca had pulled out her laptop to play a mix with the vague (and pathetic) hope that it would ease some of her own tension.

It didn't.

"You guys fought a lot today," Chloe observed quietly.

Beca could feel Chloe's clear blue eyes watching her fingers trip across the trackpad of her computer.

Briefly, Beca paused. Then she nodded her head. "Yeah," Beca breathed out brokenly.

There was no disagreement. She and Aubrey _had_ fought a lot that day – but it hadn't been Beca's fault. Aubrey had been goading her into arguments all week, most noticeably creating issues where there actually weren't any at all, but also picking at little things that could easily have been discussed and resolved had Aubrey not blown them so far out of proportion. They had been tense and uncomfortable and awkward and everything about it felt wrong, because she and Aubrey may encompass all of those things individually, but not together.

They were none of those things when they were together.

They were warm and easy and fluid and _right_.

Except for the other three times that Aubrey had goaded her this way, which told Beca all that she needed to know about what was in store for her.

"She always comes back to you," Chloe offered tentatively, but her voice hitched like even _she_ knew that was hardly a comfort.

"I know," Beca nodded again. She shuffled forward to rest her laptop against the table and turned the music down low; still audible, but incapable of interfering with conversation. "But one day she won't."

"Oh, Becs," Chloe cooed, "of course she will. You and Bree are… you're so _good_ together, Beca. I've never seen anyone understand her the way that you do. You get her. You get what she needs, and what she wants, and you know when she's being unreasonable and how to call her out on it and talk her down when World War III erupts. And, when she's not… being like this," Chloe settled with a sigh, "she understands you, too. You open up to her – and, God, Beca, we all know how hard that is for you. She makes you happy."

"Yeah," Beca rasped again, with yet another nod as she rested her arms against her knees and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Yeah, she makes me happy. But it's becoming more and more apparent that no matter how much I want to be, I won't ever be enough for her."

"Beca, I know it's hard to see it when she gets this way," Chloe said softly, "but you make her happy, too. No matter what happens, you have to know that. But I know it's hard, sweetie – and no one would blame you if… well, if you wanted to make it stick, this time."

"I'm just tired, Chloe," Beca sighed. "I'm tired of second-guessing myself and everything about our relationship every time Papa Posen demands a visit," she finished dryly.

"I know, Becs," Chloe assured her with a watery lift at the edge of her lips. "Just – let me know if I can do anything, okay?"

"Sure, Chlo," Beca smiled appreciatively. "Thanks."

But, honestly, there was nothing that Chloe could do for her. Aubrey was going to break up with her, _again_, and Beca would have to deal with that. She didn't want to, and she was exhausted by the pattern, but she couldn't do anything about it, either.

Beca just prayed for the strength to make it through the Christmas break. Things would go back to normal, then.

* * *

"Beca?" Aubrey called out, spotting a familiar pair of chunky combat boots inside the door of the apartment she and Chloe shared.

"In here," Beca shouted back, though her voice sounded strained.

Aubrey straightened her spine – a Posen never lacks poise, she reminded herself – and nodded once, determined, despite that Beca couldn't see it. She set her backpack next to her shoes, now comfortably situated beside Beca's, and navigated to the living room.

Beca was on the couch, her head cradled in her hands with her elbows on her knees, laptop half-shut and settled against the glass surface of the coffee table. Chloe was curled up on the opposite end, looking sad and sympathetic and a little cross, too, but Aubrey couldn't deal with that right now.

"Aubrey, can we talk?" Chloe asked.

It sounded more like '_we need to talk right now_,' but Aubrey didn't relent. "In a minute, Chloe," Aubrey replied evenly. "Beca and I need to talk, first."

"Aubrey – "

"It's okay, Chlo," Beca sighed, lifting her head and leaning backward until her back met with the cushions of the sofa.

Chloe's lips parted for a protest, but Aubrey threw her a pointed, no-nonsense look and Beca nodded encouragingly until Chloe huffed, stood, offered a short squeeze to Beca's thigh, and departed for her room.

"Beca," Aubrey began pragmatically, taking Chloe's place and primly folding her fingers together to rest over her crossed left knee, "this isn't working." Beca didn't reply, so Aubrey coolly pressed onward. "_We _aren't working. I don't need to tell you about how much we argue, and, frankly, it's exhausting. And it's interfering with the Bellas, which I will not tolerate. I can't do it anymore, Beca. I think we need to take some time apart to reconsider what we're doing, here."

It took a minute – a solid sixty-four seconds, by Aubrey's count – before Beca uttered a soft reply.

"Okay."

Aubrey's brows shot into her hairline, though she quickly schooled her expression back to neutral before it could be noticed. This hadn't happened before – not with any of the other three times that she had ended things with Beca. They had argued, and fumed, and cried until Aubrey had slammed the door shut behind Beca's hunched back.

'_Okay_,' had not ever been uttered, unless it was firmly preceded by the word 'not.'

But, as unexpected as it was, Aubrey knew this was better. Easier, even. So she ignored the sting behind her eyes and the extra _thud-thud-thud_ of a heartbeat out of sync, and she nodded.

"Okay," she agreed.

"I'll see you at rehearsal, then," Beca said thickly.

Aubrey watched her throat squirm beneath the pressure of a hard swallow, but she forced herself to ignore it.

"I'll see you at rehearsal," Aubrey echoed, standing as soon as Beca did, the brunette shutting her laptop with a quiet click as she collected it and shoved it in her bag with a ratcheting _zip _to finalize the discussion.

Once Aubrey had closed the door after her girlfriend – _ex_-girlfriend, she trained herself – she rested her forehead against the wood and closed her eyes.

The sting behind them had intensified.

"You're an idiot, Bree," Chloe said quietly from behind her.

Her disappointment was not lost on Aubrey, but she inhaled a strengthening breath anyway and turned around to face her best friend, who she found leaning against the frame of the kitchen doorway. "I'm not talking about this with you, Chloe. It's done."

"Until you decide that _isn't_ done anymore, right?" Chloe scoffed angrily, boosting herself from the wall with her arms folded irately across her chest. "Until you decide, _again_, that you want her back, right?"

"Chloe – "

"No, Aubrey," Chloe interjected with a firm shake of her head, "because, one day, Beca won't take _you_ back. And I swear to God, when it happens, I will fully support her in that decision. Because all you've ever done to Beca is break every promise you've ever made to her."

It was a good thing that Chloe whirled around and locked herself in her room before Aubrey had the chance to speak, because every well thought out response that Aubrey had planned for this exact moment seemed insufficient, and even if she'd wanted to reply, her tongue was resolutely glued to the roof of her mouth.

Aubrey had nothing to say.

* * *

Practice the following day was grueling for Chloe.

She tried to keep the Bellas distracted, but it had become pretty obvious that something was amiss. Aubrey was behaving especially dictator-esque, even for her, and Beca hadn't said a word in reply to it – or to anything else, either. Beca had been completely, painfully silent for three hours.

And, because it had happened before, the girls knew exactly what was going on. So Chloe's problem then became keeping everyone busy enough not to ask questions about it.

Which worked really well, actually, until Aubrey dismissed them for the day. And then it didn't matter that Chloe had put so much effort into preventing the conversation, because it was happening, anyways.

"What's goin' on, Beale?" Cynthia-Rose honed in on her immediately.

Chloe usually loved being the go-to girl for inquiries about Beca and Aubrey's relationship; she loved gushing about how Beca had cooked Aubrey dinner and the blonde had nearly cried at the sweetness of the gesture; she loved talking about how cute they were when she came home late from the library and found them snuggled up together on the sofa; she even loved explaining how Aubrey launched into a jealous rage every time Beca even brought up Jesse's awkward methods of flirtation, in spite of the fact that Beca was very much, _totally_ gay. (Aubrey didn't care; she hated that Jesse knew Beca was hers, and continued coming onto her anyway.)

But she hated being the go-to girl for their relationship inquiries during times like these, because it took everything that Chloe had not to sob and wail out that her best friend was a masochist who couldn't let herself be happy, and that she was stealing Beca's happiness in the pursuit of her self-destruction, too.

Chloe just sighed and shook her head at the audience that had amassed.

"_Again_?" Stacie puffed furiously.

Outside of Chloe, Stacie was Beca's best friend – and if anyone hated seeing Beca hurt, it was Stacie.

"Trouble in paradise, eh?" Fat Amy asked, and the tone of her voice struck a chord in Chloe; it was so dejected that Chloe would swear _Amy_ had been the one broken up with, if she didn't know better, and Chloe sympathized, because she (irrationally) felt that way, too.

"Paradise is a myth," Beca said quietly from the stands, where she was grabbing a bottle of water from the side pocket of her bag and staunchly refusing to look at any of them. "Don't let anyone tell you differently, Amy."

"This is none of their business, Beca," Aubrey snapped out from behind them, somewhere near the whiteboard.

"It becomes their business when it changes the dynamic of the group, Aubrey," Beca replied tiredly.

"See!" Aubrey cried out triumphantly, and Chloe frowned as most of the group flinched. "This is exactly why we don't work, Beca! We're a disaster together, and everyone else can see it, too."

"I just think you're a disaster when you're apart," Jessica mumbled, earning a hard nod from Denise and Cynthia-Rose in reply.

Chloe's heart broke for Beca, who couldn't even look up to face Aubrey, let alone defend the relationship that Aubrey had, for the fourth time now, single-handedly decided was destined for failure.

"Becs," Chloe tried softly, despite not knowing what consolation she could possibly offer.

"No, it's okay," Beca said, shaking her head and throwing the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. "Break starts tomorrow anyway, right? Just give it some time. Everything will be fine, guys," she promised, pitching a weak smile at the rest of the Bellas, who returned it with equally as much (lack of) enthusiasm as Beca trudged up through the aisle and shoved open the door, which closed with a deafening reverberation into the now-silent room.

"Who are you trying to convince that this is the right thing to do, Posen?" Stacie barked out abruptly. "Be with her or don't – that's your choice. But quit yo-yoing her around. Beca deserves better than this."

With mumbled assents from the rest of the group – minus Chloe, who felt she'd already expressly conveyed her opinion in private the night before – most of the Bellas made for the exit.

Chloe turned back to Aubrey, who was bowed over the piano with her fingers clenched around the lid, her knuckles paling until Chloe was sure that her bones would soon show through her flesh if she just added a little more pressure.

No, Chloe didn't agree with Aubrey's decision – not at all – but Aubrey was still her best friend, and Chloe knew that she was hurting. Even if it _was_ self-inflicted.

"Come on, Bree," Chloe sighed, resting her palm against Aubrey's lower back and trying to fight off the guilt that she felt for offering the blonde her sympathy. "Let's go home. There's Rocky Road in the freezer."

"I don't want to talk about any of this," Aubrey warned fiercely.

"Good," Chloe couldn't help but reply. "I don't want to talk about it, either. We'll eat ice cream and watch Mean Girls, and we won't say a word."

Aubrey released a shuddering breath that Chloe felt tremble through her fingertips. "I love you, Chloe."

"I love you too, Bree," Chloe replied earnestly. "Come on."

Chloe just hoped someone was taking care of Beca's hurting heart, too.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Just a little thing that started nagging at me this morning. Only looking at two to four chapters – and only four if I seriously stretch it – so don't get too excited over anything. I've never written Mitchsen before (and I know this is kind of a weird start), but I love everything about it. Bear with me. I'm starting with the angst, but I promise that there will be fluff! Let me know how I did, guys.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note:_ Wow. Bigger response to that first chapter than I anticipated. Thanks, guys! Hope this chapter makes you happy.

* * *

Chloe awoke the following morning with a heartfelt groan and a grinding pulse in her head that swiftly prompted her to fling her arm across her face; it was a small, but – all things considered – pretty successful attempt to block out the sunlight leaking through her powder blue curtains.

True to Chloe's word, she and Aubrey had headed home after practice the night before to indulge in a movie and some ice cream. And, as promised, neither had discussed Beca and Aubrey's breakup at all. But about half an hour into the film, a healthy-sized bottle of Merlot had made an appearance (from _where_, exactly, Chloe wasn't sure), and, though Chloe supposed it might not have been the _best_ idea given her best friend's plainly tumultuous emotions, when she'd looked up at Aubrey there had been a pool of tears welling in her eyes, and Chloe hadn't quite had the heart to deny the glass that had then been shoved into her palm.

Consequently, Chloe was now suffering through the kind of sour hangover that only too much wine can deliver, and had to put up a hard fight to regain control of her mental faculties.

"Aubrey?" She called out softly.

When she was met with silence, Chloe sighed and resigned herself to the inevitable notion of movement, slapping her palm against her nightstand and grappling for her phone. She squinted at it when the screen lit up (noting that it was just past nine, and she had a full six hours before she needed to depart for the airport), and eagerly tapped open a message from Stacie, hoping for an update on Beca.

_She won't talk about it,_ the simple message read.

Chloe sighed again. Of course Beca wouldn't talk about it; Beca rarely divulged anything emotional to anyone _not Aubrey_, and the blonde had very unambiguously put herself in a position very far from 'communication outlet.'

_Aubrey wouldn't talk either, not that I pressed,_ Chloe typed back in reply, urging herself into a sitting position and digging her toes into the carpet as she scraped her hair back into a sloppy bun.

Chloe stood some minutes later, tracking the scent of already brewed coffee into the kitchen. She leaned on the tips of her feet to pull a mug from the cabinet, but momentarily put her morning routine on pause when she found a sticky note affixed to the lid of the coffee maker.

_C,  
I had to get going. Let me know when you make it to Tampa.  
A_

There was no mention of the night before, but Chloe didn't need the words written on a scrap of paper to know that Aubrey was saying 'thank you.' And Chloe had very mixed feelings about that.

On the one hand, she was glad if it had helped Aubrey to feel better – which she sincerely doubted, honestly, because Aubrey had been nothing short of despondent since Beca's departure two nights ago – but the knot of guilt in her gut cinched tighter together in reply to the sentiment; Chloe wasn't really sure that Aubrey actually _deserved_ to feel better.

With a shake of her head, Chloe plucked the Post-It between her fingers and poured herself a much-desired cup of coffee. After adding cream and sugar, Chloe settled into the corner of the living room couch, her legs tucked underneath her as she hastily shelved the idea of channel surfing in favor of silence as a treat to her pounding head.

Her silence, however, lasted all of ten minutes (during which she had drained most of the coffee from her Mickey Mouse mug) before her front door opened.

"Uh…" Chloe stuttered at the uninvited intrusion, craning her neck over the back edge of the sofa to face the potential burglar/kidnapper/rapist invading her home. A familiar, slender frame topped with brunette hair, however, quieted Chloe's raging heartbeat, and she pressed a hand over her chest in relief as she forced herself to muffle out a surprised salutation. "Hi, Becs."

"Oh," Beca blinked. Chloe couldn't be sure, but it seemed an awful lot like Beca was almost shocked to see her. _In her own apartment_. "Hey."

"Hey," Chloe gave back warily, oblivious to the fact that she had greeted her friend once already. Beca looked… off, somehow, and that, coupled with the fact that Beca had always refused to enter the apartment unless accompanied by one of the room's inhabitants, had Chloe a little uneasy. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Beca reeled her head back, before quickly recovering with a firm nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just – I need to do something," she dismissed, determinedly striding toward the door to Aubrey's room.

"She's not here, Becs," Chloe told her gently, setting her mug on the table and rising to move cautiously in the brunette's direction.

"Obviously," Beca rolled her eyes as she twisted the knob in her hand, unceremoniously admitting herself into Aubrey's room. "She went home for break."

"Right…" Chloe agreed, trailing off expectantly.

She watched Beca rustle through the drawers of Aubrey's desk, shuffling through papers and notebooks and stationary and writing utensils until she emerged with a victorious look on her face and a black address book closed in her palm. Chloe had always wondered why Aubrey kept it, considering that phones were much more easily accessible and possessed the same capabilities, but Aubrey had graced her with a decidedly exasperated look when Chloe had asked about it, and had explained that technology wasn't always reliable, and that she needed it in the event that something should happen to her phone.

Chloe raised her brows – because this was very atypical behavior for Beca, who practically regarded privacy as a necessity of life, ranked somewhere very high up the list not too far away oxygen – but when Beca expressed no interest in explaining herself, Chloe felt compelled to inquire, "So what are you doing here, Becs?"

"Something stupid," Beca replied distantly, ruffling through the pages of the small address book with her thumb at the bottom right corner.

Chloe cringed a little when Beca fingers drew to a crisp halt and messily ripped out a page from the plastic spiral binding – Aubrey would _not_ be happy about that – but Beca had apparently found what she'd come for, because she hurriedly spun on her heel and Chloe, startled by the sudden movement, allowed Beca to slip right past her and into the hallway.

"Beca, what are you doing?" Chloe asked worriedly, following the brunette out into the living room.

"I," Beca said, folding her newly acquired sheet of paper and tucking it firmly into the back pocket of her faded skinny jeans, "am going to talk to Aubrey's dad."

Before Chloe could pick her jaw up off the floor, the front door had clicked to a solid close as abruptly as it had cracked apart just five minutes earlier.

_Oh._

As much as Chloe admired the boldness of the gesture (and the courage it would take, if Beca actually followed through with it), she had to take a few seconds to identify her emotional response to Beca's intention. She was excited, sure – but concerned, and anxious, and skeptical of how it would actually pan out.

Chloe wasn't sure how well Beca had thought this through.

* * *

Beca's fingers clenched and released – and clenched again – around the steering wheel of the 2006 Civic her dad had given her just before the start of the fall semester. The GPS in her phone directed her to veer off at the next right exit. It was a four-hour drive from Barden to Aubrey's parents' house in Savannah, and Beca had spent the entire trip, aside from a small pit stop at a little gas station ten minutes ago, preparing for what she would say once she got there.

She was hurt and angry and upset, and she was done waiting for Aubrey to take the initiative to fix it. Beca Mitchell was a doer, and she'd been entirely too passive in her relationship with Aubrey, lately. The blonde had squashed Beca's emotions into unrecognizable knots of anxiety and anguish and self-doubt, and Beca was guilty of allowing her to do it.

Beca had just about had enough.

Something had to change.

Aubrey's relationship with her father was touchy, at best; from what Beca understood, it mostly consisted of Aubrey – and the two other Posen children, Meg and Tanner – striving for his approval, and most often earning little more than a nod of acceptance for their trouble. From the stories she'd been told, Derek Posen wasn't a hard man, exactly – just unavailable, for the most part.

He'd spent much of Aubrey's childhood building an empire of hotels across the state and amassing a very comfortable seven-figure salary. The man had certainly earned the right to be proud of his accomplishments. However, the fact that his success had been so important to him while his children were so young inevitably led each child to the conclusion that 'success,' or Derek Posen's version of it, was the ultimate goal, and nothing less would be acceptable.

Beca understood that his opinion meant a lot to Aubrey. Hell, her father had never spent much time at home, either (though he had significantly less to show for it), and he'd taken off for good when Beca was nine. Beca understood daddy issues, and she definitely wasn't immune to them, either. But that didn't make it okay for Aubrey to treat Beca like she was disposable; like she wasn't worth anything better than a couple of nonsensical arguments sewn together as a very poor excuse for a breakup that had already happened three times before. That was not okay, and Beca intended to say as much.

But before any of her words could even begin to have an impact on Aubrey, Beca had to deal with Derek Posen. She wasn't thrilled about it, and, if she was being honest (which she was, because she couldn't really afford not to be at this point) she felt like Aubrey should have stood up for their relationship way before it could come to this, but Beca shook the thought off as she put the car into park.

She could deal with that later. The fact was that it _had_ come to this, and Beca – angry, hurt, passionate Beca – was prepared for all out war, if it was necessary. So she took a single, fortifying breath and shuffled from the car, grabbing a brown paper grocery bag from the passenger seat before soldiering up to the front door of the (unnecessarily large) home and jabbing her finger once against the doorbell.

It took a long, uncomfortable moment before someone came to the door, and Beca just barely refrained from rolling her eyes when, upon brief interaction, she identified the auburn-haired woman as a maid.

"Hello, miss. Can I help you?" The woman asked, brows furrowed with confusion. Beca couldn't blame her; she certainly hadn't announced her visit.

"No, actually," Beca steeled her jaw. "I just need to speak with Mr. Posen for a minute. Is he in?"

"Yes, but he's actually about to have dinner. Maybe another time would be better," the maid suggested. "Tomorrow, perhaps, or – "

Beca shook her head and, in a move that was becoming quite common for her today, edged her way past the maid and invited herself into the home. She called over her shoulder, "I'll just be a few minutes. Thanks for your help."

She momentarily caught sight of the maid's flustered expression as she hurried to shadow Beca's path, but Beca wasn't terribly concerned with it.

She was beyond caring about an audience, at this point.

* * *

Aubrey had spent most of her day warring against the hangover she'd awoken with. She'd begun the day very early (wine or no wine, she'd planned to leave at eight that morning, and, by the aca-gods, Aubrey would leave at eight), and had been compelled to pull the car over no less than three times during the drive to Savannah as her nausea had gotten the better of her.

In combination with the fact that getting sick only reminded her of how well Beca made sure to take care of her when she didn't feel well, Aubrey was definitely not in the best of moods.

Tanner, her younger brother by a year and some months, was being an overly obnoxious ass, for lack of a better word, and Meg – three years older, married, and with a baby boy in diapers – kept narrowing her eyes in Aubrey's direction like she just _knew_ that something was very, very amiss. But if there was one thing that Aubrey was unwilling to discuss right now, it was Beca Mitchell and the havoc that the infuriating, devastatingly attractive little alt girl dragged behind her everywhere she went, so she avoided her sister's penetrating gaze and instead focused on her mother, asking after the progression of plans for the Kingsford charity dinner in March.

Despite the distant throb in her head (a healthy reminder not to have any wine with dinner, thank you), Aubrey sank into the discussions around her with relative ease, hardly registering the noise of the doorbell sounding off.

Several minutes later, however, a small commotion from the foyer lured her piqued curiosity into tipping her head in the direction of the hallway. If Aubrey focused, she could hear voices, and, because she was listening for it, Aubrey could vaguely make out the maid (Danielle, she was pretty sure, but she hadn't been home since Easter, having spent Thanksgiving with the Bellas in Barden, so she couldn't quite remember). But the other voice – this one awfully, painfully familiar to Aubrey – was steely and determined and had Aubrey's fingers flexing anxiously around the metal of her fork until 'Made in China' was imprinted upon the flesh of her palm.

That was Beca's voice.

Aubrey's father made to stand, the muscle in his jaw quivering with something that was either displeasure or intrigue (Aubrey could never tell, which made the man infinitely more intimidating to her), and Aubrey scrambled through her thoughts for want of something to say.

She came up empty.

It didn't matter, though, because no more than ten seconds later, Beca drew into the dining room. She locked eyes with Aubrey, and, for a long moment, Aubrey – for all her snappy comments and dragging insults and unwarranted nitpicking – could do nothing but meet that wonderful blue that she had so come to treasure.

Beca didn't quite look right. She was twitchy, the way she got when she was forced (volunteered, Aubrey preferred) to watch a movie and grew antsy mid-way through. Her posture was more rigid than Aubrey had ever seen it, and her fingers made a little crinkling noise as they danced anxiously along the edge of the brown paper grocery bag she was toting in her arms.

And there was so much emotion in her eyes that Aubrey's breath caught in her chest, and, for a sure minute, Aubrey felt paralyzed.

"Beca," she shuddered out finally on an apprehensive breath, "what are you doing here?"

"You know this girl?" Derek lifted a brow, suspended nearly a foot from his chair, half on his way to standing.

"I – " Aubrey put forth a valiant effort to reply, but it made little difference. "She's, um…"

Beca had resumed motion the moment that Aubrey had glanced away from her, peeking into one of two hallways that spilled off from the room and wrenching doors open on her path of exploration.

"Where's the bathroom?" Beca interrupted.

Aubrey winced. She wasn't sure what to think, and she had no idea what Beca was even _doing_ here – they were broken up, for Christ's sake! – but all she could process at the moment was that Beca was behaving particularly abrasively this evening, and she could not envision her father responding to it very well.

"It's – "

"Nevermind," Beca scoffed as she tore open another door, which Aubrey was well aware did, in fact, lead to a restroom. Beca disappeared inside for all of a second before emerging once more, a small trashcan clipped between her fingers.

Wordlessly, Beca shoved Aubrey's dinner plate somewhere to the left (the table was probably a little larger than it needed to be, in retrospect, so there was more than enough room) and dropped the small bin in front of Aubrey's face. Next, she began removing items from her brown bag, one by one.

She placed a bottle of ginger ale next to Aubrey's water glass, a pack of spearmint gum (Aubrey tried not to react to the fact that Beca knew her favorite flavor _and_ brand), followed by a small tube of Dramamine pills; whether they were designed for motion sickness or not, Aubrey swore by them as a cure for all types of nausea.

"Beca – "

"Stop talking," Beca spoke coldly. Aubrey startled a little in her seat. She couldn't actually remember Beca _ever_ speaking to her that way, and she swallowed. Part of her was sure that Chloe had been right; that, finally, Beca was finished with her, and had arrived to tell her so in person. That part of Aubrey felt crushed by the mere idea.

Despite that Aubrey had broken up with her already, Aubrey was ashamed to admit that this had all happened before – minus Beca invading her parents' house, of course – but Beca had never asked questions when, not long after, Aubrey would crawl into her bed with tears staining her pink cheeks and sigh a soft apology against Beca's neck.

They never spoke about it afterward. They just picked up the pieces and moved forward, and Beca continued to invest a trust in Aubrey that she didn't deserve, and had done nothing to earn.

But here, in the dining room of her childhood home, Aubrey could read in the set of Beca's shoulders that she was hurting. Beca was trying to mask it – and with most, she would probably have succeeded – but Aubrey knew her better. Beca was hurt. Aubrey had no one to blame for that but herself (which, oddly enough, did _not_ make her feel better), and all that she could think about was how desperately she wanted to hold her tiny DJ and soothe it all away. But she didn't. Instead, she nervously shot her eyes over to her father, who was regarding them both with confusion and more interest than Aubrey would have thought he could spare. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and waited for Beca to continue.

"This has gotten so far out of hand that I'm not even sure that we ever had a grasp on it to begin, so just stop talking, Aubrey," Beca snapped. "I'm tired of waiting for you to get your shit together. Mr. Posen," Beca said, turning to face the man, "I'd really like to speak with you for a second, if you can."

Aubrey paled. What the _hell_ did Beca think she was doing? All fond thoughts of her fellow co-captain abruptly fled from her mind as a breathy, "_What_?" escaped her lips, emerging more as a demand than anything else, and with more than a hint of fury.

The contents of her stomach roiled violently before Beca could form a reply, and Aubrey absently closed her fingers over the lip of the trashcan in front of her.

Just in case.

"You storm into our family home, uninvited and snapping with temper, and you expect me to acquiesce to a private discussion with you, despite that I haven't the slightest idea who you even are?" Derek inquired, his head lofting to the left.

Aubrey wasn't entirely sure, but she thought her dad almost sounded… amused? Oh, god. She was definitely going to be sick.

"All due respect, Mr. Posen," Beca huffed in aggravation, "this conversation is happening, _tonight_, whether you want to involve yourself in it or not. My civility extends about as far as offering to switch rooms, if that's what you'd prefer, but it doesn't really make a difference to me. So, if you'd like to do this in private, then now would be the time to let me know," she informed him with a scowl.

_Fuck_, Aubrey thought. Nothing about this evening was going according to plan.

Aubrey promptly emptied her stomach into the trashcan and took a healthy swallow of ginger ale, throwing back a couple of Dramamine pills with it. Her mother stood and warmed a soothing palm against her back, but Aubrey was almost too distracted to notice. Tanner was snickering and slathering a slab of butter onto his roll, diving into his meal as his eyes took in what Aubrey was sure he considered to be a show. Meg leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, observing silently with a hint of something in her eye that Aubrey just didn't have time to decipher.

"Beca, you can't just – " Aubrey tried, her voice shaky, but her tone shrill and angry.

"_Don't_ tell me what I can't do," Beca snarled abruptly, whirling to face her, and Aubrey's words hiccupped before they could reach her tongue. "I'm a big girl, Aubrey. I can handle your father," she growled, her hand flying out in the direction of Derek Posen's chair. "_He_ isn't a problem. People judge and reject and look down on me all the time, and it sucks, but I deal with it, so if that's what's going to happen, then fine. Quite frankly, I don't give a flying fuck about it, because I _can_ do this_,_" Beca hissed. "What I _can't_ do, Aubrey – what I _won't _do – is another sixteen fucking days."

"Sixteen da – Beca, what?" Aubrey inquired instinctively, fusing her brows together into a solid blonde line that both expressed confusion and demanded answers.

"There is a pattern to this, Aubrey. And maybe you can't see it, but I do. It's sixteen days. It's always sixteen days that we're broken up before we get back together again. And it starts forty-eight hours, almost to the minute, before you're set to pull into the driveway of this house. Forty-eight hours before you come home, you sit me down, we have 'the talk,' and you end things with me, Aubrey. And then it's another two weeks before you pull your head out of your ass long enough to swallow your pride and say, 'let's be us again,'" Beca mocked with a scoff.

"And up until now, I've taken it. I accepted it, and I moved on, and we started over. But, fuck, Aubrey, I can't spend another sixteen days terrified out of my _goddamn mind_ that this time will be different; that this time you actually _meant_ it; that this time you won't come back to me when the sixteen days are up," Beca rambled, and there were tears in her eyes, but Aubrey didn't even think she noticed.

Her fingers reflexively coiled around the bottle of her ginger ale, and she downed a quick gulp as tears clawed behind her eyes.

"I can't do that, Bree," Beca shook her head. "And it- it isn't fair that you keep putting me in that position. So don't you dare tell me what I can't do," Beca told her, breathing heavily, as her speech lost some of its vigor, "because I know what I can't do. But I _can_ do this," Beca nodded resolutely. "And I will. Because you- you can't tell me we're not good together," Beca ducked her head before she raised it again to find Aubrey's eyes. "You can say a lot of things about me, Aubrey – and God knows we've seriously worn down the list of available insults, so you've already said a lot of them – but you won't ever be able to say that I don't love you enough," Beca told her softly, her voice cracking. "So just- just let me talk to your dad, and then… I don't know, Bree. I haven't gotten that far, but just… let me talk to him. Please," Beca bit her lip. "Please let me do this, Aubrey."

Aubrey wanted to speak – because now, God, she had so much that she wanted to say, and that she needed Beca to _hear_ – but as soon as she had collected herself enough, she was being interrupted again.

"Perhaps the study would be best, then," her father declared with narrowed eyes.

Beca's surprised gaze shot toward him like she had entirely forgotten about his existence, but she nodded and eagerly shuffled behind him when he made for the direction of the foyer again. She cast another glance back at Aubrey, who clearly had neither the time nor the composure to express very much, but Aubrey barely managed to nod just before her father clapped a hand over Beca's shoulder and urged her toward his office.

A long moment of absolute silence followed their departure, until –

"Your girlfriend's _hot_," Tanner asserted around a mouthful of chicken.

Aubrey immediately glared at him.

True as it may be, that was very least of Aubrey's concerns just then. Plus, the last thing that she needed was her younger brother fostering a crush on her girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. _Whatever_. The line was so blurred right now that Aubrey couldn't even tell where it started and stopped.

No wonder Beca had resorted to this. Not knowing where they stood was confusing, and unpleasant, and it made Aubrey feel sick like she'd never felt before.

Just how badly had she screwed this up?

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Don't worry. Aubrey definitely does not get off the hook for what she's done to Beca without some work.


	3. Chapter 3

Beca felt winded.

She'd planned for this; she'd spent hours psyching herself up for this confrontation in her dorm room, with the Posen address fisted tightly between her fingers as she debated the appropriate strategy. She was ready for Derek Posen, and whatever he could throw at her.

What she hadn't planned for – what hadn't actually occurred to her, until she'd stormed into the Posens' dining room – was interaction with Aubrey. She'd negotiated in her mind that this would be stressful for the blonde, which inevitably led to puking, and so Beca had prepared for that. She'd stopped at the store, and picked up the 'stress-essities' (as she'd affectionately dubbed them months earlier) – but that had been more instinct than anything else. She hadn't actually planned on _speaking_ to Aubrey.

So the conversation that had just occurred (which was mostly one-sided, Beca would admit) had taken her by surprise, and she'd voiced a lot more than she'd intended. That was all fine and dandy, because the entire _purpose_ of this visit was to put a stop to all the secrets being kept between them, but it also left Beca beginning her conversation with Mr. Posen on an entirely different note than the one that she'd rehearsed.

But that was okay, Beca reasoned.

Beca was good at improvising, and she had a handful of girls back at Barden who would easily back her on that. This was no different.

"You look like you could use a drink," Mr. Posen remarked from behind his polished mahogany desk, his brow lifting to an incline as he steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

Beca shook her head, her fingernails dipping into the leather arms of the plush chair that she'd been gestured into. "No," she declined. "No, thanks," she modified. "I have to drive home tonight, and, as I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not too great at dealing with heavy emotions while I'm sober, so I really don't feel the need to add alcohol to my night," she concluded dryly.

"Sensible," Mr. Posen nodded. A beat of silence followed, until the man sighed and spread his hands apart. "Beca, correct?"

"Yes," Beca confirmed. "Beca Mitchell."

"You seem to have arrived here this evening with the intent to discuss something with me?" He prompted.

"Look," Beca puffed, leaning forward to rest her elbows against her knees and locking eyes with the (admittedly intimidating) man before her with renewed vigor, "I'm not a very subtle person, and, even if that weren't true, I've been fucked over so much in this situation that I don't really have any discretion left to spare, so I'm just going to be straight with you, here," she informed him. Beca waited until Mr. Posen issued a rolling 'please continue' gesture with his hands. "I love your daughter," she stated bluntly. "I'm _in_ love with your daughter," she amended. "And I want to be with her."

Derek leaned back in his chair with a mildly amused, but simultaneously condescending smirk toying at the corner of his mouth. "I'd figured that much out for myself, Ms. Mitchell."

"Super," Beca snapped, because she was fairly convinced that the man was now intentionally making this conversation difficult for her, and she just didn't have the patience to deal with that. "But you're the only thing standing in the way of me actually having a decent relationship with her, and I'm tired of dealing with a road block that no one seems willing to remove."

"And that's why you're here?" He inquired emotionlessly.

"Obviously," Beca scoffed.

Mr. Posen regarded her for a long time, during which Beca steadfastly met his ambiguous gaze and refused her desire to shift restlessly in her seat.

When Derek addressed her again, his tone was stern. "Am I to understand that you're here demanding my permission to date my daughter?" He asked, but before Beca could reply, he spoke again. "I use 'demanding,' because I've yet to hear a question, Ms. Mitchell, so 'requesting' seems to be a kindness that I'm not willing to extend, at the moment."

"You didn't hear a question," Beca managed through gritted teeth, "because I never asked one. And I don't intend to, Mr. Posen," she declared, leaping up to her feet. "I wouldn't ever ask you for permission to date Aubrey, because it's misogynistic and stupid, and – more importantly – because Aubrey would be furious with either one of us for even suggesting the idea on ethical grounds alone."

"Then what, if I may ask," he began coolly, "does this discussion concern?"

"It _concerns_ the fact that your daughter is in love with me, too, and she won't stay in a stable relationship with me because she thinks _you_ will disapprove," Beca snarled. "Now, I'm not a parent – "

"No," Mr. Posen cut in strictly. "You are not."

"And I've had a pretty shitty example of parental figures, on top of that," Beca ignored the interruption. "But I don't really figure that a father would involve himself so much in his kid's life if he didn't actually care about how it panned out."

Derek inclined his head, but didn't reply.

Beca continued. "So, based on that, I have to assume that you want Aubrey to be happy."

Mr. Posen still did not reply.

"That one actually requires a response," Beca bit out mockingly.

Derek raised his brow, so Beca raised hers expectantly in return.

"I wish success for all of my children," he replied diplomatically.

"_Define_ 'success,'" Beca demanded. "Because, as far as I'm concerned, your kid is smart, and talented, and ambitious. Aubrey is a leader. She knows what she is capable of, she knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it."

"Then she is as I've raised her to be," Mr. Posen remarked promptly, lifting from his own chair to rest his palms against the wood of his desk. "And I am proud of her for that."

"Great!" Beca exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. "Then maybe you should let her know that every once in a while. Because, damn it, Mr. Posen, I make her happy. I've had my insecurities about that, but, when push comes to shove, I make Aubrey _happy._ I give her time, when she asks for it, and I push her when she needs it, and I give her _everything_ I know how to give. And it isn't enough. Not because she isn't satisfied, but because she's afraid that it won't meet with _your_ approval. And correct me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't seem like something a father should be proud of," Beca sneered. "You raised her to make her own decisions, and blaze a new path if the ones available don't suit her. That's great. Really, it is," Beca insisted honestly. "But how can she do that if she's too busy being afraid of your disapproval? How can she blaze a new path when you've already picked one out for her and shoved her halfway down the road before she can even voice an opinion of her own?"

"If my daughter chose a different path, I would be no less proud of her than I have been her entire life," Derek growled swiftly. "But if being involved with you is what Aubrey wants, then I fail to see why I am not having this discussion with _her_."

"Well," Beca huffed, "on that point, we agree. Call me impatient – or whatever you like, really, because contrary to prior belief, I actually _don't care_ about your opinion – but I got tired of being cast off to the side while I waited for her to figure out that this conversation is what she needed. If she doesn't want me, fine. I won't like it, but that's fine. What _isn't_ fine is that I keep letting myself be torn apart because she's too afraid of _you _to let herself love me. And that's a stupid reason, Mr. Posen. Not to mention the fact that it's beneath her; she's too independent to let you keep getting in her way."

"And you just took it upon yourself to decide that for her?" Mr. Posen belittled. "What gives you that right?"

"No, Mr. Posen, what gives _you _that right?!" Beca seethed. "She's your daughter. I get it! But if you want her to know success, then you're doing it _wrong_," she informed vehemently. "Because how can Aubrey ever know success if you don't ever give her the option to _fail?_ She is so afraid of disappointing you that she won't even give something a chance if she thinks you'll disapprove. But she gave me a chance, Mr. Posen," Beca then whispered solemnly. "She gave me a chance, with the clear idea in her head that you would _never_ be okay with her being involved with someone like me – whether that be because I'm a woman, or because I don't meet your perfect Posen standard. _Aubrey did it anyway,_" Beca implored. "And even if I don't come out of this with your daughter on my arm, Aubrey deserves a chance, too. She deserves a chance, and you're refusing to give it to her."

Beca panted a little, exhausted by her rant and her emotions, and, _damn, _that all-too-familiar Posen stubbornness, but she waited out the silence for a long time without backing down.

Until Mr. Posen sighed wearily, first rubbing a hand through his peppery hair, before firmly shouting, "Aubrey!"

* * *

Aubrey trembled under the expectant gazes of her mother and sister. She knew what they wanted – she wasn't _stupid_, just startled, and confused, and very unsettled – but she couldn't gather herself quite enough to speak the words that they were silently demanding to hear.

"Oh, darling," her mother, Elise, finally sighed, folding her arms around Aubrey's neck. "Why didn't you _say_ something?"

"I- I wanted – " Aubrey broke off and shook her head, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of feeling, and, actually, entirely unsure of _what_ she'd wanted. She was only sure of what she _hadn't_ wanted. "I didn't want Daddy to be disappointed," she whispered tearfully.

Tanner snorted. "Dad's _always_ disappointed, Bree."

"He isn't," Elise insisted softly.

"This is different!" Aubrey proclaimed over her.

"No," Meg replied thoughtfully, "it really isn't."

"Of course it is," Aubrey scoffed.

"Aubrey," Meg huffed, "that shouldn't even matter. It's not Dad's choice who you want to be with, and if you want this girl – "

"_Do_ you want this girl, dear?" Elise interjected tentatively. "Because, I have to be honest, she seems a bit… brash. I would have thought the two of you would have… conflict."

Aubrey couldn't help it. She laughed. For a long time, she simply couldn't control it, regardless of her present situation, and regardless of the curious looks being thrown her way. She barely managed to somewhat hysterically chuckle out, "Mom, you have _no_ idea."

"But you love her anyway?" Elise prompted, pulling away just far enough to offer a knowing smile in Aubrey's direction.

Aubrey sobered immediately. "I – yes," Aubrey sighed out earnestly. "Yes," she repeated more firmly. "Beca – she's… she's _everything,_" she breathed. "She's unorthodox and impulsive and completely, unbelievably _maddening_, but I do love her, Mom," she confessed vulnerably.

"Then what's the problem?" Tanner asked. "Because, seriously, the chick's hot, and she's willing to brave _Dad_ for you. _And_ she brought puke supplies. That's pretty much the trifecta, sis."

"Stress-essities," Aubrey snorted to herself. "She always brings them when she's about to do something to piss me off."

"That's… thoughtful," Elise chuckled softly, shaking her head with bemusement.

"It is," Meg agreed. "So, to repeat Tanner's question, what's the problem, Aubrey? Clearly she cares about you, and it's obvious that you care about her, otherwise you wouldn't be so torn up about this."

Aubrey's lips parted for an explanation that she wasn't entirely sure how to give at the moment – because, despite her father's reaction, she hadn't actually ever anticipated that her mother or siblings would be so… _okay_ with her interest in women – but she was cut off by a loud protest from where she assumed was the study. Though she couldn't make out the words, she could make out Beca's fury – and she could make out an ominously low reply from her father in return.

Aubrey allowed that to speak for her, and cut a pointed look in her sister's direction. "_That_ was the problem," Aubrey scowled. "Daddy's never going to – "

"Oh, stop it," Meg scoffed. "Dad's always been hard on us, but he loves us. You know he does. And even if he doesn't approve, so what? It's not like it's _illegal_ to feel something for a woman, Aubrey."

"You don't understand," Aubrey sighed and shook her head. "I – "

"I understand better than you think," Meg narrowed her eyes. "I had an affair, you know," she informed them softly. "For about three months, I slept with someone _not_ my husband."

"Margaret Posen!" Elise's eyes widened as she rounded on her eldest child.

"Oh, Nathan knew about it," Meg brushed off her mother's concern with a dismissive flutter of her hand. "Calm down, Mom. But I was curious, and there was a woman at work, so I explored for a bit," she declared casually. "It wasn't for me. But that isn't the point," she insisted. "The point is that it's your life, and your feelings, and _you're_ the one who will have to live with it if you keep acting like you don't feel the way that you do. You won't ever be happy that way, Bree."

"I just – " Aubrey shook her head, surprised at her sister's revelation, and floored by her own emotions. "I don't even know if it matters," she settled with a sigh. "I've – I haven't been fair to Beca in any of this. We've broken up- four times now," she struggled. "No," she corrected with another sigh, "_I've_ broken up with _her_ four times now. And I didn't think very much about it at the time, but Beca's right; it was always really close to when I was supposed to come home, and… and she's so hurt, Mom," she shifted her eyes to her mother's matching green pools with tears itching at her own. "I don't- Even if this goes well – and it's _Dad_, so I seriously doubt that it will – I don't even know how I could begin to make things right with her."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Tanner voiced abruptly.

"Tanner, you can excuse yourself any time you're ready," Aubrey growled dangerously.

"Great. I'm not," he huffed. "Ready, that is," he persisted cheekily. "Seriously, Aubrey? That hot little alt girl – "

"Don't call her that," Aubrey retorted with a scowl.

She wouldn't admit it to her brother, or probably anyone else, _ever_, but she'd taken to internally regarding the phrase as one of endearment for _her_ Beca, and it sounded _so wrong_ falling off of Tanner's lips.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes in answer. "_Beca_ just crashed in here like a Nazi storm trooper, literally _begging_ you to let her talk to Dad. You may have some work to do to make her feel better, but I think it's pretty damn obvious that she still wants to be with you, Bree. She wouldn't be here if she didn't."

"Crude as your brother may be," Elise said, offering a pointed glare at Tanner, who, for once (and to Aubrey's great vindication) shrunk backward with a sheepish little grimace, "I don't believe he's wrong, Aubrey. If you want to be with Beca, then the only thing stopping you is yourself. I think she's making it very clear that she isn't ready to give up on you."

"Yes, but – " Aubrey tried.

"No," Meg shook her head. "Aubrey, Jesus Christ, just _listen_. You hurt Beca's feelings, and she's pissed – and she has every right to be – but that doesn't mean that it can't be fixed. But you're going to have to do some work to get there, so you need to decide if you want Beca badly enough to put forth the effort, or if you're willing to let this go."

Aubrey swallowed. She didn't need to think much about that. Not at all. That didn't make it easy, and her stomach still rolled uncomfortably with everything that she suspected was happening a few rooms over, but she didn't need to think about how much she wanted Beca. Not anymore.

"You're right," she admitted softly. "I haven't been fair to her at all."

"Then you fix it," Elise nodded resolutely. "You make it up to her. For all of her aggression, it's very clear that that girl is in love with you, darling. She'll give you a chance. Just be sure not to waste it, hm?" She hummed softly, tucking a tender kiss across the top of Aubrey's blonde head.

Aubrey nodded, her tears (and emotions) at full force, and she wrapped her fingers around her mother's arms, still curled around her neck. "I love you, Mama," she murmured.

"Oh, honey, I love you too," Elise replied swiftly. "Now, just – "

"Aubrey!"

Aubrey winced at the sharp call from her father's study, and glanced fearfully up at her mother for whatever small comfort that Aubrey hoped she could offer.

"Get your girl," Elise finished with a warm, encouraging smile as she disentangled her arms.

"Right. Of course," Aubrey breathed with a roll of her eyes. "Like it's _easy_," she muttered to herself as she stood and smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress.

"She never said it was easy," Tanner chortled. "She just said to do it. And do it quick, sis; I wanna actually _meet_ this girl at some point, yeah?"

"If you hit on her, I swear to God, Tanner, I will _end you_," Aubrey snarled possessively.

"As if we needed more confirmation that you're in love with her," Meg grinned wickedly.

"Jeez, _relax,_" Tanner said with wide eyes as he offered his palms up in a gesture of innocence. "I just wanted to tell her not to hurt you, but if this is what I get for being a good brother, I'll _pass_," he huffed.

"Oh," Aubrey murmured, cheeks flushing under the weight of her embarrassment.

Maybe she'd overreacted a little.

"Um… thanks, Tanner," she offered tentatively, and leaned down to press an affectionate kiss against his cheek.

"Gross," he mumbled in reply, and promptly shoved a bit of potato into his mouth.

"Oh, you two," Elise rolled her eyes. "Now, Aubrey, quit delaying. You ought to go, yes?"

"Yes," Aubrey sighed. "Yes, I'm going, Mom."

With one final, deep breath – and a quick snatch at the gum still resting on the table – Aubrey made for her father's study.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Okay, so I lied. It's going to be a few more chapters, but still not too long. So I hope you guys are enjoying it enough to read (and review!) some more, for me. Thanks, guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Beca valiantly fought off the urge to fidget in the tense quiet of Derek Posen's study, but it wasn't exactly the easiest thing she'd ever done – in fact, Beca was almost convinced that it was the most difficult.

Her emotions were chaotic, and each one rotated on a repeating playlist with chords that struck fast and hard, like lightning in Beca's chest. She was tired, and furious, and, God, she hurt; but she was also scared. Petrified, almost.

In her impressive assault on the Posen home, it had been easy (-ish) for Beca to focus her energy on completing one task at a time – the first task, of course, being Derek Posen. But during the lull that followed their quasi-disagreement (Beca honestly wasn't sure what to call it, but she was pretty sure she'd come out of it the victor, if it had been a competition – and, because he was a Posen - _the _Posen, in fact - Beca had to assume that it was), Beca found all of her other fears leaking in through the foundations of the dam she'd hastily managed to construct that morning.

Beca was _afraid_.

She wanted Aubrey more than anything, but Beca had no way of being sure that this would actually fix anything between them.

Part of Beca knew that it was her insecurities talking; it knew, without sparing a single thought for doubt, that Aubrey had been as deliriously happy in their relationship as Beca was. But another part of her wasn't so sure. What if Aubrey hadn't broken up with Beca because of her father at all? What if Aubrey just didn't _want _Beca anymore? What if Beca had cited herself as the cause for Aubrey's happiness when she hadn't actually had anything to do with it at all?

It was a terrifying emotion that left her feeling empty and alone and desolate, and Beca was exhausted by it. She just wanted all of this to be finished; even if it ended poorly (which looked like a credible possibility, if the occasional purpling of Mr. Posen's face was anything to go by), she just wanted to be curled up in her bed and staunchly _not_ dealing with a single one of the feelings that had taken over every factor of her existence.

But instead of crawling into bed – like any sane person would do after a painful breakup – Beca was standing rigid against a wall with folded arms, engaged in a fascinating (yet somehow dissatisfying) staring contest with her ex-girlfriend's father, while waiting with unmatched impatience for the blonde to intrude upon the silence.

What kind of masochist _was_ she?

Beca almost rolled her eyes at herself, but she refrained, purely in favor of besting the elder Posen man in their ocular stare-down.

Beca did win, but she couldn't take too much pride in her conquest, because Mr. Posen only broke eye contact when a soft knock rattled against the door to his office. Beca heard it creak slightly as the door widened a bit, but she didn't turn to look at Aubrey right away. Derek did.

Still, Beca felt it was a cheap triumph, and she reluctantly conceded (in her mind) to a tie.

"Daddy?"

Beca sighed and lowered her head to lock her eyes against her shoes, covertly stealing glances from her periphery. She had no idea what Aubrey was feeling, or how upset she might still be. She wasn't sure how the rest of Aubrey's family had taken the news, or if Aubrey would be angry at Beca for practically shoving her out of the closet (even though it hadn't really been intentional – she'd only ever intended to discuss Aubrey's need for the man's approval, to give Aubrey the shove that she needed in order to discuss everything else with him; needless to say, Beca's plans for the night had morphed into a giant clusterfuck).

The point was that Beca didn't know anything except for how Aubrey's voice sounded somehow like raspy honey, and that her heart tripped anxiously against her ribs in automatic response to it. Aubrey had always had a profound effect on Beca (and her nervous system) but amidst all of her struggling emotions, Beca wasn't quite sure what to do with herself now that she was facing her.

"Aubrey," Mr. Posen nodded to his daughter and gestured for her to come in. He didn't resume until Aubrey somewhat meekly stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind her. "It's come to my attention that – "

"Wait," Aubrey insisted, then promptly flushed bright red and rushed to apologize. "I'm sorry, Daddy, it's just – Beca, are you okay?"

Startled (and admittedly confused) by the interruption, Beca's neck craned upward to meet Aubrey's eyes. The blonde was closer than Beca expected, no more than a foot away, and Beca instantly felt stricken by her proximity. Dumbly, Beca nodded. "Yeah, I – " Beca cleared her throat. That was a lie, and Aubrey knew it, but Beca wasn't about to discuss any more of the intimate details of their relationship with Aubrey's father, so she said again, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Aubrey's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Beca simply shrugged and lowered her eyes back to her boots.

"Aubrey," Derek sighed, with a hint of something that might have sounded like resignation from anyone else, but only sounded like prideful reluctance from this particular man, "I cannot pretend to understand all of your choices – and I may not always- _approve _of them," he began, and on a hunch, Beca brought her head up to find that, yes, Mr. Posen's eyes had indeed settled distastefully over Beca's form. Beca scowled back at him before he continued. "But you are an adult now, and you have earned the right to make decisions for yourself. As I was saying before, it's come to my attention that I haven't always been… open with you. So, tonight, I wish to clarify something, Aubrey," he admitted with another, deeper sigh – which, to Beca, actually _did_ sound resigned. "I am very proud of you."

Aubrey gasped softly – dignified, as always, Beca mused with fondness – and in the same moment, the blonde instinctively grappled for Beca's hand. Beca swallowed and looked down at their mingled fingers, trying really hard not to focus on the warmth of the fit; Beca wasn't sure what it meant.

Or if it even meant anything.

Aubrey had wrestled for this moment all her life; of course she felt strongly about it. It could easily be that Beca was simply there to share the moment with her, and Aubrey had reacted to her presence.

"I hadn't realized how deeply it impacted you that I hadn't spoken the words aloud, but I am proud of you, Aubrey. I am proud of you, Meg, _and_ Tanner. I want success and happiness for each of you, and, I admit, I've pushed you to strive for it. It- took a long time after I left the army for me to find success in the world; I found it in my business, and I thrust that lifestyle upon you so that you never had to know the feeling of not having a career to fall back on.

"However, in my feat to secure you a place in the corporate world, I've realized tonight with some… _help_," he bit out reluctantly, and Beca couldn't mask a small, smug smirk in reply, "that I've failed to allow you the freedom to make choices in the other aspects of your life. That being said," the man straightened his shoulders and rounded his desk to close his fingers over Aubrey's shoulder, "I will not love you any less for loving a woman – even if she does happen to be an infuriating- _hobbit_ with ear monstrosities poking through holes in her auricle."

Aubrey laughed. It was loud, and happy, and free, and Beca thought it was absolutely mesmerizing – but even that couldn't stop the reply that snapped from her lips without thought.

"Fucking Christ, did you guys study the same _dictionary?_ I'm _not_ a hobbit, my ear monstrosities don't have any effect on my character at _all_, and, for the record, I wouldn't _have_ to be so infuriating if you Posens weren't so _goddamn bossy_."

"_Beca_," Aubrey hissed warningly.

"Sorry," Beca grumbled halfheartedly. A moment passed, before Beca felt obligated to add, in her own defense, "But it's true."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Your- Beca," he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, "has been nothing but straightforward since she intruded upon our supper. While I expressly hope that this doesn't become a common occurrence," he said, lifting his brows and regarding Beca with a pointed glance, which she reflexively straightened her posture under, "she has made it quite clear that she is solely invested in your best interest. I can ask no more from your partner than that, Aubrey – be it a man or a woman."

"Thank you, Daddy," Aubrey breathed reverently. Beca could see her eyes watering, and her cheeks glowing red the way they always did before she cried, so she tightened her hold on Aubrey's hand, and Aubrey reached out to cradle them both in her opposite palm, as well. "I – That means… a lot to me."

"I can see that," Derek replied. "I can only apologize for not expressing the sentiment sooner. Now," he huffed, spreading his arms apart, "I believe you and Beca have some things to discuss. Beca," he paused, evaluating her with a pensive, yet distrustful gaze, "you may stay for dinner, if you'd like."

"No, thanks," Beca said wryly. When Aubrey shoved her elbow into Beca's stomach, she puffed, swallowed her pride, and gritted out, "I have an early shift tomorrow and I'm already going to be past midnight getting home. I should really be getting back."

"Very well," Derek nodded, moving toward the door. He opened it some, but before he left, he sighed again and said softly, "Aubrey, keep in mind: I do not love your mother because she knows how to plan a charity dinner. I couldn't justify my love for her if asked, and I do not expect you to justify your feelings to me, either. Beca," he mused thoughtfully, "it was… nice meeting you."

"Yeah, sure," Beca snorted. "You too."

"We'll have to work on your issues with respect," he murmured with a shake of his head.

"I don't have an issue with respect," Beca gave back. "I have an issue with people who demand respect from me when they haven't done anything to earn it."

Derek inclined his head. "Touché," he acknowledged purposefully, slipping out the door and closing it quietly behind him.

Nervously, Beca shuffled her weight on her feet as her eyes found purchase against them once more. When no sound came forth, Beca sighed.

"Look, I wasn't actually lying. I do have an early shift at the station tomorrow, so I do need to get going soon."

"Okay," Aubrey agreed quietly. "I'll walk you out."

"Aubrey," Beca said tiredly, "you don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to. I need a minute alone with you, Beca," Aubrey tried softly. "Is that alright?"

Beca wasn't sure how much more she could handle tonight, but she _had_ signed herself up for this, so she simply nodded and motioned Aubrey through the door that Beca propped open for her.

* * *

"Beca," Aubrey breathed, shaking her head as her shoes tapped against the asphalt of the driveway, "that was… stupid. _So_ stupid," she sucked in a sharp breath. "But it was also… very impressive, and I – thank you," she asserted sincerely, gripping Beca's elbow gently to draw their motion to a halt and cradling Beca's cheek in her palm. "Thank you for – "

"This was your excuse," Beca interrupted, turning her head slightly to the right to shake off Aubrey's touch.

Aubrey felt the sharp ache of the rejection as it manifested into a well of tears behind her eyes, but amidst that, she made out confusion, too. Aubrey wasn't sure what Beca meant, exactly. She parted her lips to voice an inquiry, but Beca shook her head.

"This was your _only_ excuse, Aubrey," Beca continued. "This was the reason you kept ending things with me. And I get it, okay? I do. Your dad's super important to you, and his approval is a priority. I get that. But it's out of the way now. I shouldn't have had to be the one to do it, and I'm more than a little angry and- and I'm hurt that you never took that step on your own, but, either way, it's done. I can't get a great read on the guy, but I'm pretty sure that inviting me to dinner means that he doesn't _totally_ hate the idea of us being together. So your dad isn't a concern that we have to deal with, anymore.

"That being said," Beca frowned solemnly, shifting to lean against the hood of her car, "I know what I want. I've always known what I want, Aubrey. I want you. But you suggested that we… take some time; reconsider things between us, right? And I think that's a good idea. Because, yeah, I know what I want… but I'm not sure that you do. So, I think you should take the rest of break – longer, if you need it – and really think about where you want to go from here.

"Because I'm tired, Bree. I'm tired of coming second. I'm tired of going out of my way to give you comfort and security in this relationship and getting treated like shit in return, and I'm done with it. So if you come back…" Beca briefly glanced away, focusing intently on the space just over Aubrey's left shoulder for a long moment before she swallowed and brought stormy blue eyes over to meet with Aubrey's, "if you still want to be with me, Aubrey, then make sure that you mean it. You make sure that you're in it, one hundred percent, because I'm not doing this again," Beca finished, her voice soft and understanding, but her words firm and clear. "If I'm with you, Aubrey, I want to be _with_ you. Permanently. Not off and on depending on how scared you are of the public opinion on any given day. Because you can call me a flight risk however many times you want, but you're the only one running from this. And it's taken me a while to get to a point where I believe it, and it's taken me even longer to say it, but I- I know I deserve better than this, Aubrey."

Aubrey remained silent, her eyes shadowing the downward turn at the edge of Beca's mouth and the hint of pink in her eyes. At that, Aubrey felt something inside churn with an emotion so much heavier than remorse that she couldn't fathom a word appropriate enough to name it, because Beca wouldn't ever admit it – not to anyone, especially not to her – but she could tell that Beca had been crying, and Aubrey was guilty of the heartbreak that had caused it.

"You're right," Aubrey rasped, clearing her throat against the emotions clouding the choked passage. Something like shock, quickly trailed by suspicion flashed in Beca's eyes. "Beca, you're right," Aubrey repeated, nodding slowly for emphasis. "You deserve better from me."

Beca nodded hesitantly in return, but seemed incapable of a stronger response. Aubrey couldn't blame her; she'd had a very emotionally exhausting evening – an evening that would have been emotional even for someone deeply in touch with their feelings, but especially so for Beca – and Aubrey was sure that she was overwhelmed.

"I'll take the time you're offering, if you think that's best," Aubrey agreed quietly, "but I don't need it."

"I just… I want you to be sure," Beca sighed, carding her fingers through her hair. "I think that you should make your decision on a day that's _not_ today, when your feelings aren't all haywire and confused or… whatever," she finished weakly, waving a dismissive hand through the air. "It took a hard shove from my end, but you… came out to your family tonight, Bree, and that's a big deal. And I'm sure you still have a lot to deal with as a result of it. So I don't want to hear an answer right now. Just… think about it, Bree. Think about it and, when you think you've had enough time, you can let me know."

Aubrey nodded. It wasn't the way that she wanted it to go, because she knew now, beyond all reasonable doubt or hope for denial, that all she wanted – all that she could ever dream of wanting, ever again – was the girl in front of her. But she'd spent entirely too much time neglecting Beca's feelings. Beca had never asked her for anything, in spite of all the hurt that Aubrey had caused. Aubrey owed her the time that she was asking for, even if the idea of spending another day _not_ being Beca's burned like acid in the back of her throat. She owed this to Beca, if this was what she wanted.

So Aubrey softly muffed, "Okay."

"Okay," Beca echoed gently. But, as though she somehow sensed Aubrey's displeasure, she sighed and reached her fingers out to warmly sift through Aubrey's hair. "I love you, Aubrey. And I _will_ fight for us," she murmured tenderly, tipping her neck forward to warm her forehead against the blonde's. "But I need- I need you to give me something to fight for."

"I know," Aubrey breathed.

"Okay," Beca swallowed, and, in a gesture that nearly broke Aubrey's heart – if there was anything left of it to break – she layered a kiss across Aubrey's temple before she took a step back. "So I'm gonna go…" Beca trailed off awkwardly, gesturing to the driver's side of her car. "And I- I hope I'll see you when you get back, Bree," she confessed vulnerably.

"Of course you will," Aubrey tried to reassure, even as her voice broke.

Beca loved her. Aubrey had hurt her – deeply, and more than once – but Beca Mitchell was in love with her. Aubrey didn't deserve anything from Beca, at this point, but she couldn't deny that she was sad about the night's resolution. She didn't want Beca to leave; not like this. Not with so much tension and so many unanswered questions, and definitely not with Beca looking at her as sadly as she was. Aubrey wanted to fix that much, at least. As much as Beca had given Aubrey tonight – forgiveness, freedom from the skeletons that she had buried in her closet to rot, _hope _for a future with Beca – Aubrey had yet to offer Beca anything in return. And if things were going to be different, then Aubrey had to prove to Beca that they would be.

"Beca!" She called out a little desperately as the small brunette curled her fingers around the handle of the car door.

"Yeah?" Beca turned swiftly, concerned. "What's wrong?"

Aubrey shook her head and took a step closer. "Nothing's wrong," she whispered, taking another step forward. "Just… goodnight, Beca," she murmured, lowering her head to press her mouth against Beca's.

It was meant to be a soft kiss; a short one – a thank you, or a promise, or… something very much _not_ what was happening.

The moment Aubrey's mouth made contact, her fingers twitched with what Aubrey would later call muscle memory, and instantly drew upward to curl through Beca's hair, her nails scraping lightly against her scalp. Beca released a surprised groan before her hands settled reflexively against Aubrey's hips, clenching until Aubrey could feel the pressure to drive herself closer to Beca.

Her leg wedged between both of Beca's as Aubrey urged her back against the car, one of her hands drifting to hold the back of Beca's neck. The brunette offered a soft moan when Aubrey's thigh rocked upward slightly, and Aubrey felt her stomach flutter ecstatically in answer, jolting a shot of heat into her system that seemed wildly inappropriate, given their situation – but Aubrey couldn't do anything about her visceral reactions to Beca Mitchell.

Aubrey stroked her tongue against Beca's once more, but when Beca sighed, and greedily tightened her grip over Aubrey's waist, Aubrey reluctantly withdrew.

"I do love you, Beca," she whispered earnestly.

Beca's eyes slipped shut, but she nodded. "Yeah, I- uh… I love you too, Posen," she breathily replied.

"And I'll see you the day I get back," Aubrey promised.

"Yeah?"

Aubrey swallowed again, and closed her eyes. She wouldn't let Beca see her cry – not when she was at fault for it, not when Beca had been the only one to sacrifice for this relationship – but the vulnerability that sparked in Beca's eyes had Aubrey remembering her guilt and self-depreciation all over again.

She had done that.

"Yes, Beca," she swore. "The _day_ I get back."

"Yeah," Beca nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Goodnight, baby," Aubrey whispered, hushing her lips against Beca's forehead to seal the promise that she had intended to make earlier.

"Night," Beca murmured back, bravely catching Aubrey's mouth one last time.

Beca managed to squeeze herself into her seat a moment later, neither one of them making eye contact for fear of a repeat performance that they were both startlingly aware really shouldn't happen tonight. But a moment after Beca's seatbelt clicked shut, Aubrey's eyes found Beca's again and, with her hands crossed over her waist, Aubrey offered a small smile and a wave goodbye as Beca pulled out from the drive.


	5. Chapter 5

"So?" Meg eagerly inquired the moment Aubrey crossed into the dining room. "Are you two back together, or what?"

Aubrey shook her head and sighed. "I'm not sure. I- Beca's really upset, and I don't blame her. She wants me to take some time to make sure that this is what I want," she summarized quietly.

The high that Aubrey had experienced from the kiss she shared with Beca had lasted until Beca's car had vanished from her line of sight, but now, without Beca to keep her thoughts from running away with her, she wasn't quite sure how to feel. On the one hand, Beca had fought really hard for their relationship tonight, and Aubrey should feel flattered by that; she definitely loved Beca all the more for it. But, on the other hand, Beca had still left without allowing Aubrey to fully repair things between them, and something in Aubrey was certain that part of her would remain broken, too, until they had mended the bridge that Aubrey had lit aflame.

"I thought you said she was impulsive," Tanner scoffed, dissatisfied with Aubrey's response.

"She _is_," Aubrey frowned testily. "But not with this. She's… guarded, and she doesn't trust easily. And I really haven't done anything to help her with that," she admitted.

"Aubrey," Elise said softly, "even if you're sure that you want to be with Beca – and I can see that you are," she added with a small smile when Aubrey's lips parted to intervene, "maybe this time apart will be good for you. It's an opportunity, darling; this is the time you need to figure out how to regain Beca's trust. From what I understand, you've spent a lot of time neglecting Beca's emotions. You should reacquaint yourself with them. You can't fix anything if you don't understand it, honey."

Aubrey sighed. Her mother was right, but that didn't make it any easier on her. Aubrey wanted Beca – but she needed to heal the damage she'd caused before anything else, and Aubrey wasn't even sure that it could be done. Beca _didn't_ trust easily, and it was nothing short of miraculous that Aubrey had broken that trust thrice before and still somehow had Beca in her life at all – even if they weren't currently in the fixed relationship that Aubrey would prefer.

"May I be excused?" Aubrey requested faintly. "I'm not- particularly hungry," she confessed on a sigh that, Aubrey was sure, sounded at least as miserable as she felt.

"Of course, dear," Elise allowed immediately, sympathy glowing in her eyes.

Aubrey nodded her gratitude and made for the hall, only to be stopped by a gentle appeal from her father.

"Aubrey," he called.

"Yes, Daddy?" Aubrey replied reflexively, turning around to face him.

Her father had reclaimed his seat at the head of the table, but – in a very ill-mannered gesture for the man – his right elbow rested against the wooden surface, his chin seated firmly atop his closed fist.

"Beca- is not what I imagined for you," he struggled momentarily, "but she _is_ rather remarkable, if impetuous and stubborn," he eventually conceded. "It would be a mistake, I think, to allow Beca to believe that her efforts were for naught. If nothing else, her actions this evening were very brave, and I don't imagine she would put forth that effort if she did not care for you. If she is as jaded as you say," he pondered thoughtfully, "then perhaps demonstrating your affections would prove more fruitful than verbally claiming them, yes?"

Aubrey gaped at him for a long minute, unable to help herself. Forget that Beca was a woman; her alternative appearance alone would have been enough, three hours ago, to have Aubrey convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that her father would loathe everything that Beca Mitchell inherently represented.

And here he was, casually offering her relationship advice on how to get Beca _back_.

Everything about this evening felt like a parallel universe to Aubrey. Not being with Beca just felt wrong, especially after all that Beca had suffered through tonight for Aubrey's benefit. But that Beca had come here at all seemed a bit otherworldly, to Aubrey. Add that her family was accepting of her interest in Beca (if not quite approving, in her father's case – though Aubrey thought that assertion worthy of revisiting if his current show of support for her was at all indicative of his true feelings about Beca), and that just made all of the hurt that Aubrey had brought down on her brunette lover seem cruel and unwarranted, which turned Aubrey's stomach into knots of guilt and displeasure.

All she wanted was to curl into Beca's side and just spend some time with her. But she couldn't do that. Beca had asked for time, and Aubrey had agreed to give it to her – but she was a Posen, and she would utilize that time to her benefit as best as she could.

Right after she got her emotions under control enough that she didn't feel like every word erupting from her mouth had the potential to melt into a sob.

"You're right, Daddy," she breathed quietly. "Thank you. I'm just- I need to think things over, I guess. I'm going to go call Chloe."

"I don't think calling another woman is the best way to get your girl back, Bree," Tanner snorted derisively.

Aubrey scowled. "It's _Chloe,_" she huffed. "And she and Beca are friends. Chloe probably has a better handle on what Beca's feeling right now than I do."

That was true. It shamed Aubrey to admit it, but she hadn't just been neglectful of Beca's feelings – she'd actually gone out of her way to ignore them, because it hurt Aubrey to know how much pain she'd caused. But that didn't make it fair, and she was mortified that she would have to call Chloe to ask about Beca's feelings; still, Aubrey could swallow her pride for this. Beca was important to her, and she wasn't willing to sacrifice an advantage like the one that Chloe could offer just because she was ashamed of her own actions.

"I think it's a good idea, darling," Elise soothed. "Go on and call Chloe. We'll talk more about all of this later."

Aubrey wasn't sure what there was left to discuss, honestly, but at this point, she was grateful for anything that excused her from human company, so she nodded her head and hurried up the stairs.

Part of her just wanted to collapse in her bed and play one of the adorably sappy love mixes that Beca had made for her, but Aubrey battled it down and clenched her phone in her palm, instead. She took a fortifying breath, released it, and dialed Chloe's number by heart before she could lose her nerve.

* * *

Chloe had tried calling Beca several times, before and after her flight, but the brunette hadn't answered, and Chloe was concerned.

She considered calling Aubrey, but she wasn't sure if Beca had changed her mind about speaking with Mr. Posen, and she didn't want to cause trouble where there wasn't any. Still, she fired off a message to Stacie and asked her to check on Beca, and Chloe noticeably bounced in her chair when Stacie replied some time later that Beca was nowhere to be found.

Her mother had chided her for checking her phone so frequently at dinner, but Chloe had blurted out a brief explanation that had her mother (and brothers and father) falling back in their chairs with raised brows. Chloe's brother, Cade, had then promptly launched into an exclamation about Aubrey being gay, and dinner had taken a swift turn for gossip.

It wasn't until after dinner, when Chloe was unpacking her bag, that her phone actually _did_ chime, and she leapt for it eagerly, landing across her bed on her stomach as she grappled for the device.

She was shocked to see Aubrey's name on her caller ID. Though she had known of Beca's plans, she had been slightly convinced that Beca would have talked herself out of it – and Chloe thought that, maybe, that would've been best. Still, if Aubrey was calling, something had happened, so Chloe mashed her thumb over the answer button.

"Bree," she breathed anxiously. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure," Aubrey replied.

Chloe waited for her to expand, because she didn't want to give anything away unless she had confirmation that, yes, Beca _had_ gone to see Aubrey's father – but when Aubrey never explained, Chloe cautiously asked, "Well, what's wrong?"

"I – " Aubrey started, exhaled a jagged breath, and began again, "I think I'm out of the closet?" She said with a slightly delirious chuckle, the assertion blending into a question near the end, like Aubrey couldn't actually believe it, herself. "I mean, my family knows about Beca, and I – I think they're okay with it, Chloe. Like, for serious."

"Bree, that's _awesome_," Chloe squealed earnestly. But Chloe wasn't overly known for her patience, so she rushed to inquire, "How did you tell them?"

Silence reigned on the opposite end of the line for a moment, before Aubrey cleared her throat, and said hoarsely, "I didn't, actually. Beca kind of just… _showed up_, and – "

"She actually did it?!" Chloe interrupted incredulously, unable to help herself.

"What do you mean, she actually – Oh my_ God_, you _knew_ she was coming here?" Aubrey screeched into the phone. "Chloe, how could you not _tell me_?" She insisted, sounding hurt and a little confused.

Chloe hurried to ease it away. "No, look – _listen_, Bree," she implored. "Beca stopped by the apartment this morning, and she was acting, like… weird. She was all fidgety, and she looked just exhausted," Chloe sighed, "and she was speaking in all these short, cryptic sentences, and she just let herself into the apartment."

"Beca never lets herself into the apartment," Aubrey murmured absently.

"Exactly," Chloe nodded, even though her best friend wasn't there to observe the gesture. "But then she just walked into your room and started going through your things – "

"Chlo," Aubrey interrupted, sounding worried, "this all sounds very unlike Beca."

"I _know_," Chloe agreed emphatically, "so I was confused and, you know, obviously a little thrown off, and by the time I realized what she was looking for, she'd already torn your home address out of your address book. So I asked her what she was doing – because, seriously, Bree, she looked like she was having a mental breakdown or something – and she told me that she was going to go talk to your dad. But she left before I could say anything, and I didn't want to tell you in case she calmed down and didn't actually do it, because I didn't want to start another fight between you guys – because, honestly, Bree, I just don't even know if Beca could take it right now, and – "

"Chloe," Aubrey intervened, a soft crackle sounding through the phone that told Chloe that her friend was sighing, "breathe. Look, I- I'm not going to lie to you, a warning would have been appreciated," she hesitated, "but I understand why you wouldn't want to tell me. I've been… just awful to Beca," she sighed again, "and I probably would have gone off on her if I'd heard about it beforehand."

Chloe eagerly shifted on her bed to fold her legs beneath her. "And now?" She inquired gently.

"Now…" Aubrey trailed off, sounding tired. "Now she has my father giving me relationship advice."

"Aca-scuse me?" Chloe demanded abruptly. "_Your_ father? What the hell happened to cause that?"

"I'm honestly not sure. There was some serious ranting for a while where I think- I think Beca almost cried," Aubrey confessed sadly. "But then my father took her into the study after she said she wanted to talk to him, and I'm not sure what happened, but Beca was yelling for a little bit, and then my father called me into the office. He said that I was capable of making my own decisions, and that even if he didn't approve of them, he loved me anyway. And he- he said he was _proud_ of me, Chloe," Aubrey choked out.

"Aubrey," Chloe breathed reverently, "that's – wow. That's amazing. Beca did that?"

"I guess so," Aubrey shuddered out a heavy breath of air. "He said that Beca may be a little… abrasive, but that during whatever conversation they had together, she only expressed interest in what was best for me, and that- that he couldn't ask anything more from my partner than that."

Chloe remained silent for a moment, before she was able to collect her thoughts. "He's right, you know," Chloe insisted softly. "I'm not sure where you and Beca stand right now, but… you won't find someone who loves you like she does, Bree."

"I know," Aubrey sobbed, and Chloe's heart broke.

"Oh, Bree," Chloe sighed helplessly, unsure of what other comfort she could offer.

"I- I tried to thank her for what she did, but she just went off about how my father was my excuse and that he wasn't a concern anymore," Aubrey said frantically. "But she said that she wanted me, and that I should think about whether or not I want to be with her, too, so we aren't- we're not together. She told me to take the rest of break to think about it."

Another sob made its way through the phone, and Chloe wanted to sympathize – but she'd played the part of Aubrey's soothing friend with wine and Mean Girls. Now it was time for her to play Beca's friend, too.

"Well," Chloe began softly, because she knew that what she was about to say wouldn't offer Aubrey comfort, but that the blonde needed to hear it, "can you blame her, Aubrey? I mean, Beca's pretty much an emotional fortress, and you somehow made it through the gates just to launch an internal assault. You hurt her, Bree. Like, really badly."

"I know," Aubrey cried softly. "I know, Chloe, I just – I don't know how to fix it!"

Chloe hesitated briefly. "I don't know that you can, Aubrey," she said quietly. "I mean, I don't know very much about what Beca's thinking, because you know she doesn't really talk to anyone but you about that kind of stuff, but… I think she just wants you to try."

"Try _what_?" Aubrey demanded desperately. "For serious, Chloe, I just- I'll do whatever she needs, but I just don't know what that is right now. I've been out of touch with Beca's emotions for weeks – and that's my fault, I know it is – but I don't know what she needs, and I'm really hoping that you have a better idea about that than I do."

"I feel like I'm breaking Beca's confidence by sharing anything with you," Chloe bit her lip nervously, "and I really think that you should talk to her about all of this."

"Chloe, I promised Beca that I would see her the day I got back and let her know my decision. And I know that I want her, okay? I'm so in love with that irritating little alt girl that it makes my _teeth_ hurt," Aubrey huffed agitatedly, and Chloe chuckled a little. "I know how unfair I've been to her, and I know that I don't deserve the chance that she's giving me, but I _can't _fuck this up again, Chloe. I can't," Aubrey pleaded. "I have to make this up to her. But right now I have no idea how to do that, and I need- I need your help, Chloe."

It probably should have taken a little more insistence from Aubrey's end, but Chloe was sold. She was tired of seeing her friends in pain, and she was tired of Aubrey running from something that was so obviously _good_ for her. She was tired of Beca having to lose one of the only good things in her life, and one of the only things that actually _meant_ something to her. And if she could help put all of that stuff to a halt, then she would.

"I think she thinks you're ashamed of her," Chloe admitted softly. "Like, she knows that your dad played a big part in… all of this," she settled uncomfortably, "but Beca's also- really insecure, Bree. And it wasn't even like you were asking her to wait until you were ready, or even just _hiding_ her; you just broke up with her every time you had to go home. And- and she said she doesn't think she's enough for you," she said quietly, her own throat itching at the memory of Beca, defeated and close to tears on their living room couch.

"_What?_" Aubrey demanded. "How could she think that?"

"Bree," Chloe sighed irritably, "how could she _not_? You never even spared her an honest conversation to explain why you were breaking up with her. Sue me for eavesdropping, but Beca's not stupid; she knows you didn't just break up with her because you were fighting. And, come on, Bree – everyone saw how you were picking fights with her. She knew you were going to break up with her a week before it happened. Didn't you think it was strange that she was just waiting for you at the apartment when you'd decided to end things? Or that she never argued or looked surprised when you brought it up?"

"Sixteen days," Aubrey said brokenly into the speaker.

Chloe frowned. "What?"

"Beca says I break up with her two days before I come home, and then spend another two weeks in my own land of happy delusions before I go back to her," Aubrey's voice cracked miserably.

"Well," Chloe struggled momentarily, "you Posens are really strict about your scheduling," she offered weakly, with a small, sad smile.

"_Chloe_," Aubrey scoffed.

"Look, Bree, I know it sucks – but that doesn't make it any less true. And if Beca says it's sixteen days, then I believe her. She's wrapped up in you, like, _all the time_. She knows how long it is that she has to go without you."

"I know, I just… can't believe she thinks she isn't good enough for me," Aubrey muffled out sadly. "If anything, she's _too_ good for me."

"What was she supposed to think, Aubrey?" Chloe snapped. "I mean, even with everything that happened tonight, she still had to be the one to take the initiative. If I was in her place, I'd be a little skeptical about how important I was to you, too; you never tried to talk to your family and actually resolve the issue. And, I mean, as far as I know, you guys have never even _talked_ about your breakups. How is someone as insecure as Beca supposed to take that?"

"Chlo," Aubrey replied anxiously, "none of what you're telling me is actually helping me to figure out how to fix things between us."

Chloe huffed. "Look, if Beca's telling you to take time, then you should take it, regardless of whether you actually want to or not. It's a show of respect for her feelings," Chloe explained.

"I know," Aubrey said. "That's why I did it, but that's- it's not enough, Chloe."

"No, it isn't," Chloe agreed softly. "But it's a start. You need to show Beca that she _matters_ to you. And that you'll fight for her, too, if push comes to shove and you really need to do it. Beca doesn't expect you to move mountains, Bree," she murmured gently. "She just wants you to show her the same affection that she shows you. I don't think that's too much to ask – and Beca isn't even _asking_ for it. All she wants is you, Aubrey. So give her that."

* * *

_Author's Note: _Sorry for the delay, guys. This chapter was a little rough for me to write. It's pretty much summarizing all that's happened, but putting a little more emotion behind it to show where everyone's heads are at. Hope it was okay. Please let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

"I don't _know_, Stacie," Beca sighed out finally, trifling her fingers through her hair and leaning back against the office chair positioned in front of her desk. "Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay? I'm tired."

That wasn't a lie. Beca was exhausted. She'd hardly slept since she'd last seen Aubrey, and – aside from a brief text from the blonde after Beca had arrived back from Savannah last Friday, promising Aubrey's return in two weeks, and another one on Christmas day – Beca hadn't heard from her at all.

Beca didn't think that boded very well for her, so she'd spent most of her nights mixing until the early hours of the morning, and she drowned herself in her work at the radio station during the day. It didn't keep her head from drawing up dozens of worst-case-scenarios, most times, but she figured that maintaining a relatively busy schedule might help to keep her thoughts focused on something – _anything_ – other than Aubrey Posen, and the currently uncertain status of their relationship.

It had been working for her (or as well as Beca had ever expected, at least) until Stacie had come back from her parents' place in Connecticut three days ago. Now, Beca couldn't seem to find peace anywhere, because her brunette friend and her never-fucking-ending list of inquiries plagued any free time that Beca had.

"Come on, Beca," Stacie implored from her position on her stomach at the head of Beca's bed, flicking her fingers (and the nail file clutched between them) outward in a clear gesture of exasperation. "You have no idea what Aubrey's going to say when she gets back tomorrow?" She asked eagerly. "Not a single clue? Nothing?"

"If I knew what Aubrey was going to say," Beca began tightly, her voice thinly veiling her impatience, "then I would've told you by now just so that you would _leave_. So, no, I don't have any idea what's going to happen tomorrow. Jesus Christ, Stacie, I told you everything that happened when I went there, and you know as much as I do, alright?"

"But she kissed you," Stacie insisted, shifting to sit up against the wall. "Like, _really_ kissed you. Like, 'I wanna screw you so hard but this really isn't the right time' kind of kissed you," Stacie pressed, eyeing Beca intently. "So that's a good sign, right?"

Beca wanted to believe that it was, but there was no way for her to know that. She'd asked Aubrey to wait until break was over before making a decision for exactly that reason; Aubrey's emotions couldn't have been all that stable after Beca's intrusion, so Beca couldn't really trust that their kiss had been anything more than a reaction to the short-circuit in Aubrey's brain, caused by Beca's unannounced rattling of the blonde's holiday plans.

"I don't know," Beca said quietly with a slight shake of her head, submitting to Stacie's interrogation for no other reason than that Stacie still wouldn't _leave_, and she wasn't really presenting Beca with any other options.

"But she said she loved you!" Stacie tried optimistically, clearly sensing Beca's deflation and attempting to soothe it, despite that Beca had been fairly certain that the other brunette had been intentionally ignoring all of her qualms with this conversation.

"Yeah, well, she's said that before, hasn't she?" Beca snapped testily, then sighed and combed her fingers through her hair again. "I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I just- I don't know, Stacie. I'd answer your questions if I had any answers to give you, but I just don't know, okay?"

"No, you're right," Stacie said softly, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress to plant her feet on the floor, reaching out her palm to lay it across Beca's shoulder.

Beca reflexively tensed, but shook off her discomfort in favor of accepting the consolation that Stacie was attempting to offer.

"I just want this to work out for you, Bec," Stacie shared gently. "I know it took a lot for you to do what you did, and I want it to pay off for you. I'm not exactly thrilled with how Posen's been treating you," she said, sounding aggravated, "and I've made myself pretty clear about that, but I know you guys are good together. I just want Aubrey to get her head out of her ass long enough to see it, and see that she needs to treat you better, too."

"Yeah, well," Beca rasped, cleared her throat, and shrugged, "you aren't the only one."

"I know," Stacie nodded. "But I'll stop pestering you about it. I'm sorry. I love you, and I just want you to be happy."

"I know," Beca echoed. "And I love you too, nerd," she tried with a small smile. "I just want to try to get some sleep and forget about it for a while."

"Sure," Stacie agreed easily, rising to her feet and stretching her arms upward, briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetie. You'll call me, right?"

"Yeah," Beca promised. "I'll call you."

"Okay," Stacie nodded, hesitating momentarily with her fingers closed over the door handle. "Good luck, Bec," she sincerely called over her shoulder.

"Thanks," Beca sighed, rotating in her chair to face her computer as the door shut behind her with a quiet click.

Only, Beca didn't get much sleep – not that she was surprised. She put up a valiant effort, but after a couple hours of doing nothing but winding her sheets into nearly unrecognizable knots, Beca gave up and threw her excess energy into pounding bass lines and sultry rhythms that echoed in her ears and threaded through in her veins. It wasn't a drug, but it was as close to them as Beca would get – not that it mattered, because even the high of music couldn't relax the tension in Beca's muscles that night, or the strain on her emotions.

A long time later, Beca lifted her headphones from around her ears and craned her neck upward with a heartfelt groan. Her fingers were a little cramped, and her neck was undoubtedly sore, and it was – _fuck_, Beca realized, startled – just past one in the afternoon. Stacie had left around nine the night before, and Beca remembered taking a break for a shower around two, with another pause for a coffee run at five, but she hadn't otherwise moved in pretty much thirteen hours.

"How long have you been working on that?"

Beca promptly leapt out of her chair and whirled around to face the foot of her bed.

"Fucking shitballs, Aubrey!" She exclaimed ardently, her hand curling around her throat as she felt her pulse thud radically against her fingertips. "How long have I – Fuck _that! _How long have you _been here?_"

Aubrey looked briefly amused, and softly replied, "About an hour. I was going to stop you, but you were really absorbed in it, and I know you hate to be interrupted once you've found your flow."

"Jesus Christ," Beca breathed, winded from the scare and admittedly still surprised, but allowing her heart to calm slightly.

But there was only so much 'calming' Beca was capable of, because as soon as she got her fear under control, all of the Aubrey-inspired ones rose to the surface all over again, causing her heart to thump hard and irregular beats against her ribs.

"I tried to call," Aubrey endeavored cautiously. "Twice," she added.

"Sorry," Beca mumbled hesitantly, shuffling her feet. "I didn't hear it, and I lost track of time. It was a little before six, the last time I checked."

Aubrey nodded. "You look tired," she remarked quietly, a moment later.

Beca shrugged. "I didn't sleep much."

"I didn't either," Aubrey confessed on a sigh, her fingers formally folded in her lap – an old habit from her childhood that manifested most often when Aubrey's nerves overtook her beloved control, Beca knew – and Beca thought she spotted a little tremor in them.

Beca wasn't entirely sure how to respond, so she nodded her head and let it remain lowered, opting to stare at the blonde's brown boots instead of the emerald eyes that had pretty much taken over Beca's entire existence.

"I've missed you," she heard Aubrey whisper brokenly. "God, Beca, I've missed you so much."

"You have?" Beca swallowed, feeling the now-familiar prickle of tears behind her eyes as she raised them upward, finally, in order to meet Aubrey's.

"_Yes_," Aubrey choked out. "I- I don't like where we are right now, Beca."

Beca swallowed again. God, this was hard. She'd expected it to be, and anticipation had been overwhelming her (along with, essentially, every other emotion in Beca's range of angst-y emotions – which extended pretty damn far), but the expectation of it still hadn't prepared her for how difficult it was to see Aubrey and finally discuss their situation.

They hadn't done this before – the _talking_ thing – and Beca was new to that sort of stuff, anyway. She'd grown accustomed to sharing her feelings with Aubrey, but not these feelings; they'd never talked about their separations in the past, and Beca wasn't sure how to do it.

But Beca knew that this was something that they needed, so she eventually managed to shakily inquire, "Well… where do you want us to be, Aubrey?"

* * *

Aubrey sucked in a sharp gasp that cooled her teeth, and released it on a trembling exhale.

She'd been sure that Beca would have changed her mind in Aubrey's absence; that, by the time Aubrey had returned from Savannah, Beca would have decided that, actually, she neither needed nor wanted Aubrey in her life, after all. She was relieved (to nearly absurd magnitudes) that Beca wasn't shutting this conversation down before it could really begin.

"I've been thinking a lot about our relationship," Aubrey began tentatively, "and about what I want," she added, "and, Beca, I want- I want you."

"Seriously?"

Aubrey took a fortifying breath, and nodded.

She'd anticipated Beca's nerves, and, with some help from Chloe, she'd been able to understand how truly insecure Beca had been (and still was) about their relationship. It broke her heart to know that she had done that, but she was more than willing to work at soothing Beca's concerns after everything that Beca had been through and done for her.

But that didn't make it any easier to read the shock in Beca's eyes, or hear it lacing through her voice. Aubrey hated that she'd made Beca so uncertain about something that seemed so simple for Aubrey.

She desperately wanted Beca Mitchell. And she would prove it to her.

"I haven't been fair to you, Beca," Aubrey averted her gaze for a moment in shame. "I've been terrible to you, and I can't justify the way that I've treated you. And I'm- more sorry than I can say to have done this to you."

Beca studied her for a moment, and Aubrey tried not to fidget under the brunette's evaluation of her, instead shoving every earnest emotion in her possession to the front, allowing Beca to observe and assess the honesty behind them.

Beca sighed, shook her head, and slowly shifted closer until she lowered herself to sit next to Aubrey on the bed, her navy eyes focused on her knees for a long, quiet minute.

"I just… I don't – " Beca sighed, frustrated, and thrust both of her hands into her hair. "I don't understand it, Aubrey," she said, glancing up to meet Aubrey's stare with a watery, pleading one of her own. "I don't understand why – " But Beca broke off and inhaled a quivering gulp of air. "Am I not- Am I not important enough?" She asked vulnerably, a tear breaking from the corner of her eye. "Why didn't you talk to me? Or- or ask for time? Why did you keep coming back if you never thought we could work? Why wasn't – God, Aubrey, why wasn't I enough?"

"Oh, Beca," Aubrey said, crying softly as Beca's pain overwhelmed her, "it was never you."

Beca's gaze hardened.

"I know that's what people say," Aubrey rushed to explain, "and that it's usually never true, but, Beca, I mean it. It wasn't _ever_ you."

Aubrey wanted to add more; she knew that she should. But she just couldn't find the words that she had worked so hard to prepare, and while she tried to form something coherent from the frantic thoughts clouding over her mind, silence reigned between them.

"I tried so hard," Beca whispered eventually, and even then, her voice cracked under the pressure of her emotions as another tear drew a wet streak down Beca's face. "I tried so hard to make you happy, and I- I think I did, most of the time, right?" She searched Aubrey's expression desperately. "I mean, I know I pissed you off sometimes, but I think that's pretty normal, and I know we had some communication issues when we first started seeing each other, but I really tried to work on them, and I- I made you happy, didn't I, Bree?"

"Beca," Aubrey said firmly, steeling herself in order to give Beca the answers that she was so obviously in need of, "I've never been as happy as I am when I'm with you. And you- you're wonderful to me."

"Then _why_, Aubrey?" Beca asked softly. "Why wasn't that enough? I don't know what else I can do, and if- if we're going to do this again – be together – then I need to know what I have to do to make it work. Because I just feel so… _broken_ when I'm not with you," she admitted, and even if she didn't sound so hurt, Aubrey could have read as much from her slumped posture and defeated eyes, "and I can't- I don't think I can take this again. I need to know what happened. I need to know why you did what you did, and why you kept doing that to me."

Aubrey sighed, and flexed her fingers, hesitating before she tentatively reached over to hold Beca's wrist.

"I didn't think about it," Aubrey said quietly. "I mean, I did; I knew that it would hurt you, and, on some level, I knew that breaking up with you was never what I wanted – but I didn't really _think_ about it, Beca. I – " Aubrey swallowed, and shook her head. "You know I don't handle stress well," she whispered. "And it's not an excuse – nothing could ever excuse what I've done to you, Beca – but I think I panicked whenever I would go see my father. I didn't ever draw the connection between my visits home and my breakups with you; I didn't consider it at all until you mentioned it at dinner that night. But I _had_ considered, in the past, the idea of coming out to my family, and I shot it down every time, because I didn't want- I didn't want to disappoint them.

"Which seems really silly now," Aubrey rushed frantically, "because they all took it really well – including my father, which you had a lot to do with, and I never- I didn't get to properly thank you for that, but it means so much to me that you were willing to do that for me, Beca."

Aubrey knew that all of her words were melding together, and that she was making several leaps through the conversation, but she'd spent two weeks coming up with everything that she needed to say to Beca, and all of it was fusing together in an endless stream that erupted from Aubrey's mouth without filtration.

"There isn't a lot that I wouldn't do for you, Aubrey," Beca informed quietly, her teary eyes falling somewhere over Aubrey's head to avoid looking at her.

A sob escaped from Aubrey's mouth, and she immediately covered her mouth with her fingers, shaking her head as Beca's gaze snapped back to her, abruptly concerned. "I'm sorry," Aubrey rushed to say. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying, I just- I – "

"Bree, it's okay," Beca assured, taking the blonde's palms in her own and shuffling closer until both pairs of hands fell over each of their thighs, Aubrey's hip pressed tightly against Beca's.

"It isn't," Aubrey insisted inflexibly. "I'm the only one who's done wrong here, Beca, and I'm so- _so_ sorry," she shook her head. "I've put you through so much, and all you've ever done is give me everything I've ever wanted. I'm sorry, Beca," she apologized again. "I don't deserve you. I've been so awful to you, and I regret so much, and I wish I could take it back, but I can't, and I just- I get so overwhelmed, because there's so much- _feeling_ between us."

"I think there's supposed to be," Beca soothed gently, with a small, wry smirk settling at the edge of her mouth,

"I know," Aubrey laughed softly, "but it's terrifying sometimes, Beca. I've never felt this much for anyone in my life. And I think I just got caught between feeling scared about that and feeling scared about my family, and it just seemed like such an- _easy_ solution to just cut you out of my life so that I wouldn't have to deal with either of those fears. It wasn't right, and I'm so ashamed of it, but I think that's what happened.

"But it never worked," Aubrey shook her head. "It didn't- It couldn't work. Because I can't stay away from you, Beca," she murmured, detangling one of her hands from the brunette's to close it over Beca's cheek, instead. "You mean too much to me. I love you too much."

Beca gasped sharply and her eyes flitted over Aubrey's face, so Aubrey waited anxiously for Beca to speak.

"You're sure? Because – "

"Beca, I'm sure," Aubrey interrupted. "I don't deserve to have you, and if you decide against it, I couldn't fault you for that after all that I've done, and it's your choice – but I do love you. And I want to be with you. I want to be better for you. I want to earn you."

"You have me," Beca said quietly. "You've always had me, Aubrey. You don't have to _earn_ me."

"Yes, I do," Aubrey disputed carefully. "I don't deserve to have you back, Beca, but I _will_ earn it. I have to."

"Why?"

Aubrey frowned. "What?"

"Why do you _have_ to do that?"

"How can you ask me that?" Aubrey whispered incredulously. "How can you honestly ask me that after all that I've done?"

"You were scared," Beca frowned in return. "You were scared, and you ran; and it sucked, but it makes sense. I wish- I wish you'd fought harder for us, or that you would've talked to me about it, at least, but I can understand now why you didn't. I get it. It scares me, too, sometimes. So why do you have to earn me, when I'm sitting her telling you that it's not necessary?"

"Because I'm sitting here telling you that it _is_," Aubrey replied sharply, then inhaled and began again, more softly. "I can never forgive myself for any of this, Beca, but I can't accept it and let you take me back without doing anything to try and make up for it."

"Like what?" Beca asked, bemused.

Aubrey trailed her fingers down Beca's cheek and neck, ignoring the quake of Beca's palm against her own in reply, until she could curl her fingers loosely over Beca's heart.

"I'm going to date you," Aubrey informed, offering a small smile at Beca's confusion.

"Um…"

"For sixteen days," Aubrey finished with a wide grin.

"What?" Beca squeaked uncertainly.

"I want to be with you indefinitely, Beca," Aubrey assured swiftly. "But, for the next sixteen days, I'm going to woo you off your tiny aca-feet."

Beca remained silent for a moment, watching Aubrey with narrowed eyes.

"I don't want anything to change about our relationship except for the part where it keeps _ending_, Bree," Beca voiced her concern.

"And I don't either," Aubrey said, shaking her head slightly. "But after how poorly I've treated you, I'd like to pamper you for a while. And- sixteen days seemed appropriate," she said, with a meaningful, and open look into Beca's eyes.

"So what happens when the sixteen days are up?" Beca asked anxiously. "We still see each other, right?"

"Yes, Beca," Aubrey confirmed solidly. "I just want to spoil you for a while, that's all. You deserve it. After all that you've done for me, you deserve more, but…" Aubrey trailed off, and shrugged her shoulders weakly. "So I'm going to take you on sixteen dates over sixteen days, and you _will not_ pay, Beca Mitchell," she said sternly, "and you won't plan, and you won't lift a finger. And when the sixteen days are over, you can do whatever you want. But until then, I get to treat you the way that I should have treated you before; the way that you deserve."

"So I'm not allowed to buy you anything or take you anywhere?" Beca huffed. "Bree, that sucks. I just spent all of break without you. Why can't I – "

"Because I said so, Beca," Aubrey replied playfully.

Beca snapped her palms upward in a gesture of innocence. "I mean, you're the boss," she said, her mouth sliding into a slow, happy grin that, God, Aubrey had missed so much.

"That's right," Aubrey chuckled, pleased with her victory, leaning inward slightly to bring her face closer to Beca's until their foreheads brushed lightly together.

"Everyone knows you wear the pants in this relationship, anyway," Beca murmured snarkily.

"Shut up, Mitchell," Aubrey rolled her eyes, and promptly tipped her lips to try and meet Beca's.

"Can I at least – " Beca tried.

"No," Aubrey interrupted. "I haven't kissed you in two weeks, Beca," Aubrey puffed impatiently. "Two weeks that I spent formulating this aca-awesome make-up plan, while frightened out of my mind that you'd probably changed your mind and decided that I wasn't worth taking back, so I just want to – "

Beca shoved Aubrey back against the mattress and lowered herself over top of her, arms braced on either side of Aubrey's face with her knees settled against either side of Aubrey's hips.

"Shut up, Posen," Beca gave back, smirking.

Aubrey fisted her fingers into the hem of Beca's shirt, tugging desperately until Beca's small form settled comfortably and familiarly against her own. When their lips met, _finally,_ Aubrey sighed softly against Beca's mouth, and she felt the brunette's arms tremble around her.

Beca withdrew from the chaste kiss a moment later, swallowing thickly and lifting one hand to stroke through Aubrey's blonde hair in a motion so tender and thoughtful that Aubrey's eyes immediately pooled with disbelieving, happy tears.

No, she didn't deserve Beca; but she wouldn't squander the tiny DJ's affections again. Aubrey vowed to be better for her.

"I missed you, too," Beca whispered purposefully against her mouth. "And I love you. And, Bree," she susurrated softly, "I'm glad you came back to me."

"Me too," Aubrey breathily agreed, arching upward to level her mouth against Beca's again.

Beca responded eagerly, driving her tongue through Aubrey's parted lips with a soft moan that Aubrey gasped in answer to. Aubrey's fingers released Beca's shirt, only to slip beneath it and whisper softly against Beca's heated flesh as they reacquainted themselves with one another. When Beca sank her hips down against Aubrey's several moments later, Aubrey panted softly, curling her fingers against the bare flesh of Beca's hips until her nails clipped into the skin.

But she pulled away, and, winded, announced, "We can finish this later, Beca."

"_What?_" Beca demanded incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Aubrey smiled caringly, stroking her fingers over the small dents she'd created against Beca's flesh. "I have a date to take you on, so we have to go."

"_Now?_" Beca frowned.

"No," Aubrey shook her head, "not now, specifically – but I told you that I want to earn you, Beca, and I don't feel comfortable letting you give yourself to me this way before I even get the chance to start."

"Then I won't give," Beca resolved swiftly. "I can take – _a lot_ – and you can let me have it," she smirked cheekily.

"Beca," Aubrey chided on a laugh. "Please? Let me take you out," she implored earnestly.

"Fine," Beca sighed, shifting up to her knees and carding her fingers through her hair to tame the mess into submission. "But I fully expect to be compensated for this later, Posen."

"Mm," Aubrey hummed, satisfied to have Beca above her, the brunette's solid weight offering Aubrey the reassurance that, yes, Beca was here – and Beca was hers again. "I can do that," she promised gently, eyeing Beca adoringly.

When Beca's gaze caught against hers, Aubrey smiled softly, and Beca bowed down to press a sweet, loving kiss against the corner of Aubrey's mouth.

"I love you, Aubrey," she whispered, folding another kiss against Aubrey's temple.

"God, I love you, too," Aubrey breathed in reply, tucking her arms around Beca's waist and holding the brunette tightly against her until Beca dropped into the mattress next to her and curled against her side, nuzzling her face into Aubrey's neck.

Aubrey sighed contentedly. Their date could wait. This was better.

* * *

_Author's Note: _I hope I did alright with this, guys; I know you've been waiting for it, and I tried really hard not to disappoint! Let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

"You know," Beca sighed theatrically, "I'm not actually sure how 'wooed' I feel right now," she teased playfully. "I mean, isn't it kind of cheating for you to recreate the first date that _I_ planned?"

Beca hadn't exactly gone all out for their first date. She'd thought about it – taking Aubrey to an upscale restaurant and dressing up to the nines for an elegant evening out – and she'd even thought that it was a decent idea for a while there. But, after days of endless stress-mixing and serious contemplation, she had resolved that Aubrey had agreed to go on a date with Beca Mitchell, and it wouldn't exactly start their relationship (or what Beca had hoped would become one) off on an honest note if Beca spent the entire date trying to be something that she wasn't.

Plus, Beca was sure that Aubrey had been on many dates very similar to that in the past, and she wasn't interested in boring the blonde with familiarity.

Instead, Beca had opted for a brunch date at a little café not far down the street from Barden's farmer's market. It wasn't fancy by any means, but they served a killer cheesecake (which happened to be Aubrey's favorite guilty pleasure, Beca had known, even then), and Beca had determined that the personal touch ought to have made up for the lack of classical music and expensive wines that Beca wasn't legally old enough to indulge in, anyway.

And, despite that Beca was lightly mocking Aubrey for her selection, she actually felt a little proud of herself for having chosen a place that Aubrey had been so eager to return to. Plus, she was pretty sure that this was Aubrey's idea of a fresh start for them, and it was very thoughtful of her to bring Beca here.

Aubrey smiled bashfully and ducked her head as pinkness flushed into her cheeks, before shyly explaining, "I know. But the first time you took me here, you were so edgy, Beca. And I just- I thought it was very sweet. You didn't calm down until after your pancakes arrived, and then you just dove in, and it was like you suddenly forgot to be nervous around me. I'd never seen you so- _open_ before, and I- I felt pretty honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to relax that way."

Beca's heartbeat pulsed hard against her fingertips. She remembered feeling relieved when the food had finally arrived, because, though she had held her own end of the conversation pretty well, she'd been very wary of how much snark was permissible during such an occasion, and Beca had a really hard time stifling her abundant use of sarcasm. She needn't have worried, because Aubrey had accepted it as Beca's unique form of dry humor, but Beca had been concerned about offending her date, and had been grateful for the opportunity to shovel food into her mouth when the need for cynicism overwhelmed her.

Beca didn't mention that, though. She imagined she'd looked foolish enough, so she didn't feel the need to add an embarrassing rationalization for her anxieties that day.

Instead, she grinned, and cheekily inquired, "So it wasn't the awesome cheesecake that swept you off your feet?"

"You did that before we left my apartment, when you kissed my cheek and opened the car door for me, Beca," Aubrey said softly, with a fond smile curving up the edge of her lips. "But the cheesecake definitely didn't hurt," she added with an airy laugh.

"I knew it," Beca declared, spearing a bite of her pancakes and holding it triumphantly in the air. "I'm charming, Posen," she said with exaggerated confidence. "It's okay. I know it's hard to resist."

Aubrey rolled her eyes and took a sip of her mimosa. A moment later, she smirked, and replied, "Your charm was a little lacking by the time you took me home, honey. It took a good twenty minutes of stalling outside my door before you finally took the hint and kissed me goodnight."

Beca huffed. "_Sue_ me, Posen. You're intimidating, alright? And, also, you spent that entire twenty minutes criticizing the fact that I had to stop for gas on the way home. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to kiss you?"

Aubrey appeared wildly amused for a moment, before she nudged Beca's calf with her foot beneath the table, and defended, "Who plans a date as perfect as that one and forgets to fill up the gas tank, Beca?"

"I had other things on my mind at the time, okay?" Beca flushed slightly and rolled her eyes. "You're a very difficult woman to impress, Aubrey. Plus, I mean, come on," Beca insisted, "you're so far out of my league it's like we don't even play in the same park, so I was out of my element to begin with."

Aubrey studied her for a moment, and Beca frowned as Aubrey's eyes softened, before the blonde reached out her palm to cover Beca's idle one.

"What?" Beca asked worriedly. "What'd I do?"

"Is that what you think?" Aubrey asked quietly. "That I'm out of your league?" She prodded gently.

"Well, _yeah_," Beca confirmed, like it should have been obvious. "I mean, look at you, Bree," she said, smiling nervously. "You're gorgeous. And you're brilliant, and talented, and you were well accustomed to being taken out by pretty fraternity douchebags, loaded up with cash. I was pretty sure I didn't stand a chance for a _first_ date, let alone a second," Beca shrugged shyly.

Aubrey's fingers tightened around Beca's as their waiter interrupted the honest moment to refill their glasses. Still, when he was gone, Aubrey didn't make an immediate move to respond, so Beca picked idly at her soppy pancakes and shuffled a bite into her mouth.

It was several minutes later before Aubrey replied – during which time, Beca refused to release Aubrey's hand, despite the obvious inconvenience of having to set her fork down in order to take a sip of her orange juice.

"I got sick three times before you knocked at the door that day," Aubrey disclosed quietly. "I'd never been on a date while the sun was still out, and I know it's counterintuitive, but it seemed more- intimate, somehow, than a candlelit dinner with wine and appetizers," she said, offering a small, warm smile. "And you're so… _interesting_, Beca. You're an amazing singer, with drive and initiative, and you _DJ_ in your spare time. I wasn't anything but the academic machine that my father had pushed for me to be. I was sure that we'd run out of things to talk about before we even stepped out of the car. I was relieved that you were so nervous, but I was mostly just relieved that you didn't think I was boring."

"Seriously?" Beca asked incredulously, her brows slipping into her hairline as her fork clattered to her plate. "Aubrey, even when I half wanted to strangle you at Bellas' rehearsals, I never thought you were _boring_. Jesus Christ, you're incredible, babe. I've always known that."

Aubrey blushed a little, but smiled her gratitude.

"Finish your pancakes, Beca," she chuckled, nodding to indicate Beca's abandoned eating utensil.

"Bossy," Beca huffed with an extravagant roll of her eyes, but she allowed the subject to drop.

She knew that Aubrey had her own insecurities, and they'd been discussed before, but now wasn't the time to delve further into them. Plus, though they were trying very hard to restart their relationship with the fundamental value of openness that had been slightly lacking before, they'd already had a pretty emotionally heavy day; they couldn't cover everything in one sitting, and, honestly, Beca wasn't all that eager to try. That would be too much, for both of them.

When the check arrived, Beca instinctively reached for it, but she frowned when Aubrey's slim fingers snapped it across the table.

"No," Aubrey said firmly, shaking her head. "I've got it, Beca."

Beca fought not to roll her eyes (again), but she acquiesced and allowed the blonde to pay without further protest. She thought the sixteen dates that Aubrey had planned were both unnecessary and a little like something out of a romantic comedy (something that Beca inherently shied away from), but she was a little floored that Aubrey was willing to go to such lengths to win her back, even if she didn't need to. Beca knew that she'd deserved better from Aubrey, but… Beca didn't need _this_.

She'd needed the conversation to review what had happened between them, and, to be frank, Beca had needed to express her own emotions about how Aubrey's actions had made her feel. She'd needed to understand what Aubrey had done, and she'd needed Aubrey to understand how it had affected her. She'd needed to know that, even after given time to fully consider her options, Aubrey would still choose _Beca_.

She'd needed to know that Aubrey would try to fix things, once she fully realized how broken they had been.

While Beca understood that this was Aubrey's way of doing that, all that Beca had really wanted was for Aubrey to admit that their relationship was important to her, and that she wouldn't throw it to the wolves the way that she had before. But Beca could let Aubrey go all out for sixteen days, if it meant the blonde would feel like they were on even footing again.

And Beca guessed she could allow herself to enjoy being spoiled for a while, too.

* * *

Aubrey had taken Beca home around five, after Beca had reluctantly admitted that she had taken the late shift at the station. Aubrey was disappointed, but she understood; it didn't stop her from stealing Beca's sweatshirt to cuddle up with for the night, but she understood.

She just really wanted to spend some more time being with Beca, after all of the intense feelings that they had shared and experienced over the past several weeks. Still, Aubrey supposed she should be grateful for the fact that they had begun the slow journey to repairing their relationship, so she allowed herself a happy little sigh as she cracked open the door to her apartment.

Her contentment, however, was short-lived.

"Aubrey!" Chloe exclaimed eagerly, once she'd crossed the threshold to the living room.

The redhead was situated on the couch with an open bottle of wine in front of her, and once Aubrey had fully entered the room, Chloe unfurled her legs and sat up on the sofa with obvious anticipation. It was clear that Chloe had been waiting for her.

Aubrey lofted her brow upward, before plastering on an equally cheery voice and replying, "Chloe!"

"Stacie," another voice introduced dryly, so Aubrey turned abruptly skeptical eyes to the armchair to find the brunette that the voice belonged to.

"We just wanted to know how things went with Beca," Chloe rushed to explain. "And Stacie would've waited at Beca's place, but, you know…" Chloe sighed. "Getting answers from Beca is like pulling teeth, so," Chloe shuffled forward on the couch to indicate her interest, "how'd it go?"

"It went fine," Aubrey hesitated.

Her last interaction with Stacie hadn't exactly been brimming with affection, and Aubrey wasn't entirely sure about where she stood with Beca's closest friend. But she wasn't oblivious to the fact that she would harbor some pretty strong resentments against anyone who dared to treat Chloe the way that Aubrey had treated Beca, so she had to figure that she was probably on thin ice with Stacie.

"Aubrey," Chloe sighed irritably, "we need details, please."

"I apologized," Aubrey said, resigning herself to the conversation and setting her purse against the coffee table, settling in at the corner of the couch. She offered a grateful smile when Chloe moved to fill one of the wine glasses and pushed it gently into Aubrey's palm. "And we talked for a long time about what happened, and about how I'd colossally fucked everything up," Aubrey confessed, draining a sip of the beverage in her hand.

"And about how you're going to make it up to her, right?" Stacie pressed, intimidatingly maintaining her casually relaxed position with her back against the cushions and her legs crossed in front of her.

"Stacie," Chloe chided weakly.

"It's alright, Chloe," Aubrey sighed. "I understand where she's coming from. Yes, Stacie," Aubrey confirmed, shifting to lock eyes with the brunette. "Look, I know that I haven't treated Beca with the care that she deserves, and I told Beca that, too; but I want to be with her, and I want to do better. I need her," Aubrey confessed openly. "And since Beca's agreed to give me another chance – which I know I don't deserve – I'm going to do everything in my power to keep her."

Stacie scoured Aubrey's expression with evaluating eyes, but eventually nodded, and leaned forward to snag her own wine glass from the coffee table.

"Good," Stacie retorted, then hesitated for a long moment. "Look, I didn't do this before, because I really didn't think it was my place, and I know that you and Beca are complicated, even without the multiple breakups, but… I really need you to get your shit together on this one, Posen," she declared firmly. "Beca always gets really torn up when the two of you aren't together, but this time was- different.

"She barely slept at all, and I had to pester her with about a hundred different texts and phone calls over break before I could even get her to check in with me and tell me that she was alright. I know she kept herself pretty busy, but she was really not okay, Aubrey," Stacie informed softly. She then sighed, and continued, "If what Chloe's said has any truth to it at all, I know you've had a really hard time accepting what you've done and figuring out how to make it better, so I'm really not trying to make you feel worse about this. I just need to know that you're sure about it, because I can only pick up the pieces of shattered-Beca if she'll let me, and after the past couple of weeks, I'm pretty sure that if you break her again, Beca's not going to let _anyone_ help her. Do you get what I'm saying?" Stacie pried gently.

"Yes," Aubrey swallowed, and nodded. "Yes, I understand, Stacie. And I- I won't make that mistake again, alright?"

"Good," Stacie grinned blindingly, "because I really do think that the two of you have something really special, and I'd hate to see you fuck it up again. Seriously, Aubrey," Stacie added solemnly. "You guys are good for each other. Even if I don't always understand how it works, everyone can see that you and Beca make each other better, right, Chloe?"

"Oh, totes," Chloe agreed easily. "But now that Stacie's played her role of scary best friend to perfection," she grinned impishly at the brunette, who offered a blasé shrug and swallowed a sip of her wine, "can you please tell us what happened, exactly?"

"We cuddled for a while after we talked," Aubrey informed, rolling her shoulders and finally allowing herself to relax into the sofa, "and I think we really needed that time together. But then I took her to the little café we went to on our first date."

"Aww," Chloe cooed, melting into an apparent pile of gush.

Stacie smirked. "How sentimental of you, Posen."

Aubrey rolled her eyes and huffed, "You know, if you're so keen on me making things up to Beca, it'd probably be a really good idea if you didn't insult my methods."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Stacie replied, holding her palms up innocently. "Beca's not really the type for nostalgia."

"No," Aubrey agreed softly, "but she does appreciate why it was a significant day for us. And she is the type to acknowledge that I would take her there as a way to begin starting things over between us."

"I think it's sweet, Bree," Chloe soothed. "And I'm sure Beca was happy that you made the gesture."

Stacie snorted. "I think Beca would've been happy to let you take her to the soup kitchen. This was definitely a step up, Aubrey," she winked.

Aubrey rolled her eyes again, but she was inwardly pleased. She hadn't expected Stacie to express such immediate and profound concern for Beca's wellbeing after her return to Barden, but she was glad that Beca had someone there to support her when Aubrey had neglected to be there for her. She could handle Stacie's subtle threat not to hurt Beca, because Aubrey had no intention of doing so again.

Beca was it for her, and she had another fifteen days to express her affections for the tiny DJ before Beca could declare open season and retaliate.

* * *

_Author's Note: _I know it's a little shorter than my other chapters, but I felt it was necessary to end it here. Let me know what you think of date #1! (Also, I'm not going to write about every date in depth, so don't get too excited for another fifteen chapters, because that won't happen. But you'll definitely get at least a few more!)


	8. Chapter 8

"_Beca_!"

Beca wasn't sure how, but that familiarly shrill (and, she suspected, very angry) voice always seemed to penetrate through the noise of her headphones, despite Beca's fondness for high volumes. So, naturally, when Beca heard it, she instantly snapped the cups of the headset around her neck and sheepishly shrank downward as she curved her head over her shoulder to face the voice's owner.

"What gives, Beca?" Aubrey asked irritably, folding her arms across her chest. "We were supposed to meet for dinner an hour ago!"

Beca cast a covert glance at the clock and internally cringed, but outwardly, she spared an exhausted sigh, and straightened in her seat. Aubrey was right.

"I'm sorry, Aubrey," she apologized quietly. "It was a total accident."

Aubrey frowned in reply, but remained silent for another moment, so Beca nervously tracked her hands through her hair and rotated around in her seat to fully look at the blonde. She raised her palms to her chest and shook her head. "Really, Bree," she insisted earnestly. "I'm sorry. I know you've gotten really excited about this sixteen dates thing, and I really didn't mean to mess it up, okay? I'm sorry."

Beca really was. She'd actually been enjoying the dates that Aubrey had been taking her on. They were currently five days into Aubrey's mandatory 'Date-athon,' as Beca had teasingly begun to call it, and Beca was feeling sufficiently flattered by Aubrey's evident efforts.

On Saturday evening, Aubrey had taken her to an improv show down in Atlanta; Beca had initially been curious about why, but when she'd asked, Aubrey had replied that, unlike plays and movies – which, by now, everyone knew Beca despised – improv shows were inherently built upon unpredictability, so she'd hoped that Beca might actually find a form of theater that she could enjoy. Beca was surprised by the thought that went into it, but Aubrey hadn't been wrong; Beca had had a great time, and she'd thanked Aubrey for it several times on the drive home, leaning across the center console to press sweet kisses against the blonde's cheek. Aubrey had simply smiled back at her with some mixture of amusement and adoration and indulgence, so Beca had written it off as a win.

Date Three had been a shorter-than-they'd-hoped coffee run on Sunday morning, because Beca had a last-minute scheduling conflict with her classes, and she'd needed to discuss it with her advisor before a double shift at the station. Beca had been willing to postpone the date for that day, due to her crunch for time, but Aubrey had insisted, and Beca had complied.

Their fourth date had been a walk around the lake just off campus while they discussed their first day back in classes, but it had ended in hot chocolate and Easy Mac in Beca's dorm (which was closer to campus than Aubrey's apartment), after quickly realizing that the combination of the cold and the fat flakes of snow falling from the sky did not work well for Beca and her tiny, slender frame. They had cuddled in Beca's bed for hours, hardly sparing a greeting to Kimmy Jin when she finally arrived back from wherever she'd gone for the duration of the winter break. Then they had fallen asleep together, Aubrey's arm curled protectively around Beca's waist with Beca's face buried into Aubrey's neck.

Beca was pretty inclined to believe that, so far, Date Four was her favorite one.

"Beca, what happened to you?" Aubrey sighed eventually, her expression softening to concern as her aggravation gave way until it was only visible in the hint of blue that circled around her pupils, reducing her usual emerald green into a murky mess. "You look worse than you did the night you were arrested."

Beca nodded and momentarily lowered her head. She'd been mixing all afternoon, trying to dim her emotions down to something that resembled rational, but she hadn't quite managed to get past the hurt and anger long enough to really try, just yet.

"Jesse was- no, _is,_" Beca amended. "Jesse _is_ being a tool."

Beca saw Aubrey bristle, and she wondered for a second if she should have kept this from her once-again girlfriend; she was very well aware of Aubrey's borderline hatred for Jesse. But they were trying to repair things between them, so even if Aubrey didn't like it, she couldn't fault Beca for bringing it up. She was only being honest.

"What's that filthy Treble done now?" Aubrey huffed, tossing her purse on the bed and shifting around Beca's chair to cant her hip against her desk.

Beca leaned back in her chair and sighed as she shook her head. "He just- I mean, I _know_ he has a thing for me, or at least he thinks he does, but he just doesn't know when to _stop_, Bree," she said tiredly, sweeping her palm down the side of her face.

"Did he try something with you, Beca?" Aubrey inquired, thinly veiled jealousy coloring the edges of her words and tightening the muscles in her shoulders.

Beca hesitated, but eventually admitted, "I mean, he didn't, like, force himself on me, or anything," she paused. "But he got really upset with me when I told him that you and I are back together. I told him that he was toeing a line, and that, as my friend, he should be happy for me as long as I'm happy. But then he just got even angrier and- and he started telling me that I deserved better, and that he could do that if I'd just let him. So I tried to tell him, _again_, that even if you and I weren't together, I'm super gay and not interested. He got really disappointed, and told me that I couldn't know that if I wasn't willing to try it – "

"Like you haven't ever been with a man," Aubrey scoffed, unable to withhold her displeasure with the situation.

"Right?" Beca all but shouted, pleased that Aubrey had summed up Beca's thoughts so accurately. "I got pissed, and maybe threw a hit or two below the belt. I told him that even if I _was_ into guys, he wouldn't be my type anyway, because he doesn't listen to anything that I have to say. And I told him that my relationship wasn't any of his business, but that, if he cared, you're really trying to make things right again, but I just…" Beca trailed off with a helpless shrug. "I don't know what else I can do, Bree. I mean, I don't want to lose him, because he usually _is_ a really good friend, but I can't hang out with him if he's not willing to accept or support your place in my life.

"I love you, Aubrey," Beca claimed solemnly, reaching out to lace her fingers with the tense blonde's. "I'm not going to keep dealing with someone who is too selfish to see that you make me happy, just because he's been waiting in the wings to sweep me away for a fairytale ending that's never going to happen. He needs to understand that this is real life, not a movie, and that, regardless of whether I'm dating you or not, the pining best friend isn't going to get the girl this time. But he won't listen to me," she said sadly, eyeing their entwined fingers contemplatively.

* * *

Aubrey had to take several subtle, deep breaths to calm her fury before she could allow herself to respond.

Jesse's obvious feelings for Beca aside, she guessed that the Treble had been a fairly decent friend to Beca. Even if Aubrey essentially loathed the boy's existence, she knew that Beca cared for him a great deal. That didn't make it acceptable for him to undermine their relationship – and it certainly didn't give him rights to make attempts at destroying it, when he didn't understand the first thing _about_ _it_ – but it made it a little easier to comprehend why Beca was so torn up.

And Aubrey could see that she was. Beca's shoulders were slumped downward with defeat, and her eyes were conflicted and uneasy. Aubrey had been being truthful when she'd commented on Beca's appearance; the only time that Aubrey had seen her look worse than this had been on Friday, when she'd come back from Savannah.

"I love you, too," Aubrey said finally, squeezing Beca's hand softly. "Which is why I'm graciously deciding _not_ to be angry with you for forgetting about our date," she teased gently.

That earned a small laugh from Beca, so Aubrey allowed herself a moment of pride for that before she continued.

"I'd like to say that I don't know what Jesse's problem is," Aubrey sighed, "but that would be a lie. You're amazing, Beca, and he's a straight guy with a pulse; of course he's into you. But I'm not going to split hairs on this, honey… I really don't like what he's trying to do, here. And it makes me very uncomfortable to think about you spending time with him if he's going to belittle our relationship like this."

"I don't like it either, Aubrey," Beca insisted earnestly. "That's my point."

"I can see that," Aubrey acknowledged with a small, warm smile. "I still don't like it, but this isn't my choice to make. I don't decide for you who you're allowed to be friends with, Beca. But I can see that fighting with him is upsetting you, and I don't want that for you. If having Jesse in your life makes you happier, then that's enough for me. I'm not sure how to get him to understand," Aubrey said, frustration mounting in her tone, "because I feel that you've been very clear with him about this, in the past – but I'm not going to be unhappy with you if you try to make this better."

Aubrey was really trying to rein in her temper. She was being honest with Beca about how she felt, but that didn't make her any less angry. She would be happy to have the conniving Treble booted from Beca's life (and hers, by consequence), but he was Beca's friend; even if she didn't want Jesse around, Beca did, so Aubrey could tough it out if she had to.

Still, Jesse had no right to be upset with Beca just because she wasn't interested in him. He especially had no right to be upset, given that Beca was very exclusively interested in women.

Aubrey understood that she'd wronged Beca, recently, as well – but Aubrey was certain that there was something to be said for making things right, too. It had taken a hard nudge from Beca, but once she'd realized what she'd done, she'd been eager to rectify her mistakes. Jesse deserved that chance, too, Aubrey guessed, but that would first require him to understand what he'd done, and she wasn't sure that the goofy looking boy could get there on his own.

"Thanks, babe," Beca said softly, tugging at Aubrey's hand until she moved enough for Beca to circle her arms around her waist, and rest her head against Aubrey's stomach.

Aubrey sighed and reached up to cradle Beca's head against her, gently combing her fingers through the brunette's hair.

"I still think he's a moron, Beca," Aubrey contended quietly.

"I know," Beca nodded.

"And I still think he should mind his own damn business," Aubrey added.

Beca chuckled. "I know, Bree."

"I just wanted to be clear," Aubrey defended playfully.

"I think I got it," Beca assured teasingly, tightening her arms around Aubrey's back.

Aubrey offered as much comfort as she could, but several moments later, she tugged gently against Beca's hair, urging her head to tilt backward. Aubrey lowered herself to place a soft kiss against Beca's mouth, her fingers reflexively clenching tighter when Beca's palms shifted to her hips and gripped against them.

Beca nipped softly at her lower lip, and Aubrey released a quiet groan, electing to ignore the smirk that she could feel against her mouth in order to flick her tongue out to taste Beca's. The brunette pulled her closer, until Aubrey's hips settled between Beca's widened knees, but the angle was a little awkward for Aubrey, so she withdrew and tucked a sweet kiss across Beca's forehead.

"I'm going to order food," Aubrey declared, "since someone ruined date night for me," she smirked.

"I'm really sorry," Beca smiled up at her sheepishly. "I just got really angry, and then I lost track of time. I really didn't mean to mess this up. I've actually been having a lot of fun with it."

"I know," Aubrey smiled forgivingly, "and I'm glad you've been enjoying yourself. I was just teasing you, baby," she assured. "But I do intend to give you a date tonight, so I'm going to call the Chinese place down the road, and I'll let you apologize for standing me up by watching The Ugly Truth with me."

Beca groaned. "I thought _I_ was supposed to be being wooed," she tried.

"Yes, well, that was before you forgot about our date, and I'm accepting my payment in the form of a movie. Tough it out, Mitchell," Aubrey laughed softly.

"Fine," Beca groused, rolling back in her chair and tapping a few keys on her laptop.

Aubrey pulled out her phone as Beca played with her music program, and watched her save the mix that she was working on as the phone rang. Then Beca closed out of the application, and watched as Aubrey put in their Chinese order.

When Aubrey hung up the phone, she lifted a brow. Beca was still watching her, but she wasn't speaking. Aubrey bumped her hip lightly against Beca's knee to catch her attention, and Beca smiled slightly back up at her.

"Hey, seriously," Beca said eventually, with a now-content shimmer in her stormy blue eyes, "thanks for being so great about this, Bree. I know I messed up tonight. And I know you aren't happy with Jesse right now, either."

"I've made mistakes, too, Beca," Aubrey replied, averting her eyes for a moment before finding Beca's again. "I'd really like it if you could try not to forget about our dates in the future, though, because I might not be so understanding about it next time," she chuckled. "And as for the Jesse situation… I may not like it, and I kind of want to tie him to a chair and leave him at Lily's mercy for some indefinite amount of time, but you and I have had enough trouble with keeping things to ourselves; I'm glad that you talked about it with me. We can figure these things out, Beca. We just need to be open about them, and try to be rational about it."

"I'm not feeling very rational," Beca sighed exhaustedly, her earlier worries creeping back into her eyes. "I'm mostly just mad. And a little hurt."

"I don't blame you," Aubrey soothed, curling her fingers around Beca's neck. "He's being a dick."

"Gee, Aubrey, tell me how you really feel," Beca replied amusedly.

"Shut up and get on the bed," Aubrey rolled her eyes. "The food will be about half an hour, so I figure we can start the movie now, and the Chinese will keep you sufficiently distracted once it gets here. Half an hour in is usually when you start getting antsy, anyway."

"Because half an hour in is usually when they stop introducing plot points," Beca huffed, "so there's no purpose in watching the rest of the movie, because I already know how it's going to end."

"Mhmm," Aubrey hummed her faux-agreement, eyeing Beca with a smirk until she sighed theatrically, unplugged her computer, and hauled it onto the bed, pulling up a site to stream the movie as she moved.

Aubrey wasn't about to sacrifice one of her date days to Jesse Swanson's unbelievable stupidity; she'd handle that in the morning.

She wondered if Stacie knew where the boy lived. Aubrey had never thought to ask, primarily because she'd never actually _cared_, but if Beca was determined to be friends with the boy, then Aubrey was definitely going to make a few things clear to him.

Beca was hers. She had almost lost her tiny DJ to her own fears and a series of poor judgment calls, but Aubrey had fought for her, and Beca had forgiven her for her indiscretions. And now that she'd begun to revive their relationship, she was determined to keep Beca Mitchell happy – even if 'happy' included a love-struck Treble with a gargantuan-sized toner for her girlfriend.

Aubrey tensed again at the thought, but Beca propped herself up on her elbow and stared at her expectantly until Aubrey relaxed, smiled softly, and joined her on the bed. Beca immediately shuffled Aubrey in front of her to keep the blonde closer to the computer screen (since Beca was decidedly _not_ interested in Katherine Heigl's consistently disastrous love-life), and wrapped an arm around Aubrey's waist, keeping her head elevated so that she could see over Aubrey's shoulder.

Beca pleated a tender kiss over the curve of Aubrey's jaw, and Aubrey shifted her back to press more firmly against the DJ's front.

She supposed she could forgive Beca for forgetting about their date, because this was almost as good, if not better. Aubrey was more than content to lay here with Beca for the rest of the evening.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Happy Valentine's Day, guys. Thought I'd celebrate with a chapter, even if it's not as long as I'd like. Hope you enjoy it, anyway. Let me know what you think!_  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: _So, I've started a new Mitchsen fic, for those of you who aren't already aware. Hop on over to give _Before We Go Down_ a review, if you get a chance or have the time. If not, then I'll be happy enough if you enjoy (and review!) this update. : )

* * *

When morning broke, Aubrey slowly began to stir. Her eyes felt scratchy and tired. It had been a late night, because Beca had initially been too emotionally worked up to relax enough to sleep, so Aubrey had spent most of the evening carding fingers through Beca's hair and stroking the length of her spine for comfort. But, internally, Aubrey's own frustration surged, and she had grown very eager to speak with Jesse Swanson after seeing how affected Beca was by his stubborn inability to see what was right in front of his stupid Treble face.

Once she'd detangled herself from Beca's limbs (a difficult feat, with Beca pretty much curled around her in an octopus-like hold), she rubbed her eyes and stood from the bed.

"Good morning, Kimmy Jin," Aubrey greeted the Asian girl politely.

Kimmy Jin nodded back from her position at her desk. "Morning," she replied.

"I'm going to make a cup of coffee; would you like some?" Aubrey asked politely.

She and Kimmy Jin shared an odd relationship. Despite the supposed hatred that Kimmy Jin claimed for Beca, Aubrey had been quick to notice that Kimmy Jin's reception of her was frequently determined by Beca's mood when around her. If Beca was upset, Kimmy Jin hardly spared a glance in Aubrey's direction – but if Beca was pleased, Kimmy Jin would grant a greeting, and occasionally even a short conversation.

Aubrey liked to think that Beca's roommate was looking out for her, and she took comfort from that thought. It made interaction with the difficult Asian girl significantly more tolerable for Aubrey, so she tried to keep on her good side as best as she could.

"No, I had tea not too long ago. Thanks," Kimmy Jin returned, before resuming her work.

Aubrey nodded, and got started on brewing the pot. She often forgot how cramped and inconvenient Barden's dorm rooms were until she worked around Beca's, and the journey she had to make into the restroom to find water to fill the pot was just vexing, but she eventually managed to prepare a cup, and she occupied herself with firing off a series of messages to Stacie as she waited for the machine to beep.

Eventually, she poured herself a mug of the coffee and downed it, reveling in the warmth of it as it drained down her throat. When Beca still hadn't awoken twenty minutes later, Aubrey – reluctant to wake her girlfriend when she knew how exhausted Beca had been the night before – scrounged around for a Post-It and a pen, scribbling a short note to Beca and pinning it to the brunette's phone. She lowered a kiss to Beca's temple and sighed a soft, "I love you," against her cheek, before electing to deal with her outfit.

Aubrey made her way from the room after searching through Beca's closet for one of her left-behind shirts and a pair of jeans, tossing her abandoned articles of clothing to the laundry basket in the corner before she left.

After a quick call to Stacie, Aubrey determinedly set off to cross campus, her stride wide and resolute as she combed her way through the quad to Dennison Hall. She got a little turned around after stepping off from the elevator, but ultimately made her way to a door with the numbers '506' glittering against a plaque outside, and she offered two sharp knocks before stepping back to wait.

When Jesse came to the door, his sleepy expression swiftly gave way to a scowl upon spotting her. "What do you want?" He huffed irritably.

"And good morning to you, too," Aubrey scoffed dryly. "You and I need to talk," she announced.

"I don't really have much that I want to say to you," Jesse replied, frowning and leaning against the doorframe.

"Which works perfectly for me, because I'd rather not be here any longer than necessary," Aubrey promptly returned, with a little more bite than she'd intended.

"Well I'd really rather that you weren't here at all," Jesse snarked, folding his arms across his chest. "So, again, _what do you want_, Aubrey?"

Aubrey took a moment to unclench her jaw when the grinding of her teeth began to echo through her ears. She'd hoped to make this quick, and as painless as possible, but Aubrey could see that the typically congenial – if puppy-like and annoying – boy was determined to make this difficult.

"I want to make a few things clear to you," Aubrey declared firmly, "because you're really not seeming to understand it when it comes from Beca."

"Look, Posen, whatever disagreement Beca and I are having, it's not really any of your business, so – "

"Oh, but it is," Aubrey countered instantly, caring very little that she'd cut him off. "It's my business because it's upsetting her, and, as her girlfriend, that concerns me," she stated firmly, ignoring Jesse when he opened his mouth to interrupt. "Not to mention the fact that it wouldn't stop me from having this conversation with you even if it _wasn't_ any of my business, because that hasn't seemed to stop you from meddling in my relationship with Beca at all, and I can only will myself to be the bigger person for so long."

"Bigger person?" Jesse asked incredulously. "Are you kidding me? All you've done is mess with her head and break her heart. She deserves better than that, and you're obviously not willing to give it to her."

"I understand that I haven't treated Beca the way that I should have in the past," Aubrey carefully kept her words paced and neutral in the face of the Treble's mounting anger, but it wasn't easy for her when all that wanted to escape was fury and possessive heat, "and I could admire your protectiveness of her if I thought that any of this dealt with Beca's best interest at all," she paused momentarily, "but that's not what this is."

"Of course it is," Jesse snapped impatiently. "I want Beca to be happy. She's my friend, and I really care about her, so – "

"No," Aubrey shook her head. "You don't just care about her, you're in love with her, Swanson," she insisted. "I understand that; it's really difficult not to love Beca, and I've tried very hard not to, so I would know," she disclosed, offering a little more than she'd planned, but willing to do so for Beca, since it was obviously required. "But your feelings for Beca are preventing you from keeping her welfare in mind the way that you should, both as her friend, and as someone who claims to care for her the way that you do."

"_You're_ going to lecture me about not looking out for Beca's welfare?" Jesse laughed scornfully. "After what you've done to her? I actually can't believe I'm hearing this right now."

"Well, apparently it's necessary," Aubrey glowered, "because, while I've made my mistakes with Beca, I'm also atoning for them. You _aren't_, Jesse."

"Atoning for a mistake doesn't mean that it never happened, you know," Jesse asserted fervently. "It doesn't change the fact that you've snapped her in half more times than I can count and left everyone else to deal with the mess."

"No, it doesn't," Aubrey managed, ignoring the ache swelling in her chest. She knew that this would happen – that her actions toward Beca would arise during this conversation – and she had prepared for it. It didn't make it any easier for Aubrey, because she still would never be comfortable discussing or thinking about all of the many ways that she'd hurt Beca, but she had been prepared for it. "But, similarly, the way that I've treated Beca doesn't change who she is."

"What are you talking about?" Jesse impatiently inquired. "Why are you _here_, Aubrey?"

"I'm here," Aubrey grated out, "because I spent my evening dealing with the mess that _you_ created, Swanson. I'm here because you're Beca's friend, and even if I can hardly tolerate your presence – even in small doses – Beca wants to keep you around. But, Jesse, you're going to have to pull your shit together, because she's about at her limit. I know that you love her, and I'd like to say that I'm sorry you can't have the relationship with her that you'd like, but we both know that would be a lie. But whether you're in love with her or not, Beca _isn't interested_ in you. That would be true whether she and I were dating or not, and you don't seem willing to understand that."

"She hasn't even had a chance to consider it, between all the heartbreak you've caused," Jesse snarled angrily.

"And she doesn't need to," Aubrey snapped back. "She isn't interested in men at all, and the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can move on. Because, Swanson, as eager as you've been to point out my flaws, you don't seem very keen on evaluating your own – so I'll review them for you.

"Beca is _gay_. She is a _lesbian_. Excuse the crude language, but no matter what you do or how pissed off you get, you cannot make her like dick. And it takes a lot of courage for her to be open about that, so not only is it disrespectful of you to ignore it, even when I _know_ Beca's shared that part of herself with you many times now, it _hurts_ her," Aubrey informed vehemently. "Being gay is part of who she is, Jesse, and she can't change it; and even if she _could_ change it, it probably would've made her life a lot easier back in high school, so she would've done so way before she met either one of us.

"You're one of Beca's closest friends, and while you may see your flirting as harmless, she doesn't; she considers it a rejection, Swanson. And she's right to see it that way, because that's exactly what you're doing; you're rejecting a huge part of Beca because it suits your interests better to ignore it," Aubrey insisted passionately. "I know that I haven't always shown Beca the love that she's deserved from me, but let's be honest, here. That isn't why you're unwilling to accept my place in her life, because you've been both insulting and disregarding my relationship with her in turns since day one, even before I'd done anything to hurt her. You're angry because you can't have her, and that's unacceptable.

"Beca cares about you. She punched a grown man for you so that you wouldn't have to man up and do it yourself, for Christ's sake," Aubrey hissed, frustrated. "She wants you in her life, even if I don't want you taking part in any of it, but she's not going to keep you around if you can't pull your head out of your ass long enough to accept her for who and what she is. She's losing patience, Jesse, and you need to decide whether you value your position as her friend enough to forget about your hope to become more, because that's never going to happen for you.

"She _will_ throw you away, Jesse," Aubrey pronounced. "Beca will throw up her walls and shut you out, and when that happens, I highly that doubt you'll find a way back in. You don't have to like me – and God knows I'll never be fond of you, either – but I'm apart of Beca's life, and despite my actions in the past, I'm not going anywhere unless Beca asks me to. Accept that and move on, or don't accept it and lose her altogether, but you should know that that isn't what she wants."

Aubrey inhaled a deep breath, winded after her long and sincere rant, and assessed the shock and something that she hoped was remorse flaring in the brunette boy's eyes.

"If you hate me so much, then why did you come here?" Jesse asked, deflated. "Why do you even care?"

"Because Beca cares," Aubrey replied honestly. "She's hurt, and I don't like to see her that way. I tried to make her feel better, but I can only do so much when she and I both know how stubborn you've been about this. She isn't convinced that you can change."

"And you are?" He laughed self-deprecatingly.

"It doesn't matter," Aubrey hedged, because, no, she wasn't actually very hopeful that Jesse _would _change – at least not permanently. "Beca gave me a chance by making a bold move with my father, and I needed that push from her to get my ass in gear to give Beca what _she_ needs, and what she deserves. I may not like you, but I do think that after the way that I've treated her, if she's willing to do that for me, then I can do this for her. So I'm giving you the same push that I was given, and I'm hoping that you won't disappoint her, despite whatever ill feelings you may have for me."

Aubrey turned to leave, satisfied that she had voiced all that she'd intended, and more than ready to leave Jesse Swanson's company in favor of a shower at her own apartment, and another cup of coffee to further jolt her body from the groggy fog that resulted from only a few hours of sleep. But Jesse's voice, calling out to her turned back, halted her and forced her to pivot back to face him.

"She said you were trying to make things right," Jesse mused, sounding strange, but earnest. "And I can see that you are, otherwise you wouldn't be here. I mean, what other reason would you have to come here, right?" He sighed tiredly. "None of this changes what you've done, but… I guess we all make mistakes," he chuckled uncomfortably, unfolding his arms to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Just… keep her happy," he implored, eyes wide and uncertain, like he wasn't sure that he actually wanted to be making the request at all.

"I don't need your encouragement to do that," Aubrey replied instinctively, but relented a little when she saw him huff. "I want what's best for Beca, and I'll give it to her if I can," Aubrey said slowly. "I know this is hard for you, but that doesn't mean that you have to make this harder for _her_. If you can't be friends with Beca, then don't; don't hang around just to dismantle what she and I have together. If you choose to remain her friend, then be her friend. Be supportive of her. I've promised to be better for her, and I don't intend to give you any further reasons to hate the fact that she and I are together, but you need to get over whatever reasons you do have if you want to stay in her life. So be her friend or don't, but you need to get out of this in-between area where you're only being her friend until she's single again so that you can make a move. I'm not letting her go, Jesse," Aubrey said gently, honestly trying not to break the kid any more than she had to, but she'd never meant anything more in her life. "Beca's mine again, and I'm not letting her go," she repeated, "but even if I did, you won't get to have her. So if you think you can find a way to be around her in spite of that, then you should," Aubrey finished simply.

Jesse looked miserable, but contemplative for a long time. Aubrey wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew that Jesse's feelings for Beca were a serious complication in their friendship, so the fact that he was really considering if he was capable of ignoring them was a good sign.

At least whatever decision he made would be an informed one, and sincere.

"Thanks, Aubrey," he eventually offered, his voice strained, but grateful.

Aubrey nodded in return. "Just don't fuck this up, Swanson," she warned. "If Beca ends up hurting more than I feel is strictly necessary, wolves ripping out your vocal chords will be a kindness, as far as I'm concerned."

* * *

_Author's Note:_ We'll hear more from Beca in the next chapter, but I felt that this one, from Aubrey, needed to stand alone. Let me know what you guys think about it!


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Pitch Perfect, Angst, Romance