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When you ship Beca with everyone.
Little Miracles
Written for @merry-pitchmas 2018. This is my gift to @snowblizzard47. I hope you enjoy. I went with fluff and romance. <3
summary: Seven year-old Abigail Melody Mitchell-Beale has only one request from Santa this Christmas. Fairly canon-compliant future fic.
word count: 5.8k
a/n: Merry Christmas everybody and especially to @snowblizzard47! This officially marks one year since I've been "in" the fandom and I've enjoyed every second of it. Thanks for all the feedback and the love. ❤️
Read on AO3 or below the cut.
Abigail puts her plan into motion near the end of November.
“Mama?” she calls over the kitchen counter.
Chloe hums, depositing waffles in front of her. She smiles, leaning on the surface so she can give her daughter her undivided attention.
Once she’s sure that Chloe’s attention is lasered in on her, Abigail pounces. “Do you still love mommy?” Abigail quickly picks up her waffle and nibbles on the edge, adopting a wide-eyed expression as she takes in the emotions that pass across Chloe’s face the moment she asks the question.
“Of course I do,” Chloe says after a long moment. She straightens, eyes downcast. “Why are you…” Trailing off, she shakes her head. “Abigail, it’s not that simple okay? I know what you’re going to say.”
Abigail scowls, a near imitation of Beca. “What am I gonna say?” she challenges. She puts her waffle down quickly and crosses her arms.
Chloe smiles sadly, reaching out to brush a crumb away from Abigail’s chin. “That you want me to forgive your mommy.”
Abigail’s brow furrows. “Forgive? Did mommy say sorry for something?”
Chloe sighs. “Yes,” she says, turning back to the sink. “Many times. Mommy did something that I’m very angry about. That’s why she’s staying at the beach house for now, okay?”
Abigail is quiet for a moment. She needs more information. “What did mommy do? Why are you so angry at her?”
Dear Santa,
My name is Abigail Melody Mitchell-Beale and I am seven years old. I just turned seven, actually! I’m sure you know that. I’m going to draw you a picture of myself and attach it to this letter. I would send you a photo but I don’t know your email so I can’t attach it in an email.
I live in Los Angeles in a really nice house with a pool! My cat, Butter, likes to stay inside but my two dogs, Arlo and Jax love playing in the pool. Mommy hates it when Arlo and Jax jump in the pool and then they run back in the house because they bring the water everywhere. Mama usually says they’re just having fun!
I love when Mommy and Mama play with me in the pool because they always look so happy when we’re all together. Mommy works late and sometimes she’s away for a long time. Mama doesn’t play with me in the pool as often when Mommy’s away but she still reads me stories. Sometimes mama sings as well, but I like it when they sing together!
Mommy is famous, but she says we shouldn’t think about that, especially when we’re at home. She’s a really good singer! Lots of people pay money to hear her sing and mama sometimes cries whenever she hears mommy singing on those big shows that play on the TV. I’m sure you’ve heard of her! She has really long brown hair like mine! Except hers is a bit darker. She’s shorter than mama but taller than me. Mommy has blue eyes like me, but she says that I have mama’s blue eyes. It’s all blue to me!
Aunt Aubrey told me that my mommies met each other at school and that they sang a lot of songs together. Aunt Amy told me they met in the shower, but that’s silly because you don’t meet people in the shower. Mommy always laughs really loudly when Aunt Amy says that.
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing to you so early Santa. It’s because I want mommy to come home. Mama has been sad a lot because Mommy was away for work. I know I’ve been really good this year so maybe if I keep sending you letters, this will make it to the top of the list!
I just want mommy to come home and live with us again. That’s all I want for Christmas this year, even though I really thought I wanted a new baking set to use with mama. I want mama to smile again and I know she will when mommy comes home!
From,
Abigail Melody
"Mommy,” Abigail drawls, kicking her legs a little. She’s a little tired from dance class, but she’s excited to spend time with her mother today.
"Hm? Yes, baby, what is it?" Beca says distractedly, looking at her mirrors carefully for a good moment to pull out of the busy parking lot. She honestly hates parking in downtown Los Angeles, but this is where Abigail’s dance lessons are and she’s not going to give up an opportunity to spend time with her daughter.
Taking a deep breath, Abigail stares hard at her clasped hands. "Do you still love mama?"
Beca fumbles and brakes, a little abruptly. Abigail watches as her bag crashes to the floor of the car before she meets Beca’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. She remembers Beca saying something about how her eyes remind her of Chloe’s – so much so that she finds herself unable to say no sometimes.
"Damnit," Beca mutters. Abigail decides to let that go. Beca puts the car in park and is silent for a moment. “I…of course I do. Yes, I still love your mommy.”
"I knew it," Abigail whispers to herself. Her plan continues to formulate.
"Why did you ask that?" Beca twists in her seat to look at Abigail briefly before turning back around and starting the car again. She pulls out of the parking lot slowly. Chloe will kill her if she gets a scratch.
"I don’t want you guys to...to get a divorce," Abigail says slowly, testing the word aloud. She only overheard some of the older girls talking about over the past few weeks in dance class because apparently Hannah’s mother was divorcing her father and it was a big thing. It sounded bad and Hannah was upset because her parents didn’t love each other anymore.
Beca grits her teeth. “Where did you learn that word?”
Abigail huffs, a perfect imitation of Chloe. “I’m seven,” she replies.
"Well," Beca starts, but can't find a suitable rebuttal for that. "I guess," she mutters."
"I know that you love her," Abigail clarifies. "I asked Mama, too," Abigail admits.
"You did? What did she say?" Beca asks, trying not to sound too eager.
"That she loves you but she doesn't trust you right now because you didn’t play fair," Abigail answers promptly.
Beca winces. “What? What does that mean?” She’s not sure she wants to know what Chloe said, but she also knows Chloe would never lie to their daughter.
Abigail giggles. She knew Beca would find it funny too. “She said you cheated on a game! I told her that you cheat all the time – especially when you help me win in Mono…monopoly.”
“It’s a different kind of cheating,” Beca murmurs, guilt lacing her voice.
"But Mommy, can't you fix it? You fix everything! Make mommy one of your mash-ups! Or – or sing to her! She loves it when you sing to her.”
“Abigail,” Beca starts to say.
“I want us to be a family again," she demands. Beca is quiet, then. Abigail lowers her voice to a whisper. “I even asked Santa.”
Beca’s eyes threaten to spill over. “Abby, I –”
“Please, mommy.”
"I don't know, baby… I don't know, anymore." Beca whispers. She could never lie to her daughter.
Abigail feels something strange in her chest. She takes in the sight of her mother gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly and the way Beca’s eyes are tight around the edges.
She chooses to say nothing else about it for the moment.
The rest of the ride is quiet.
“Hey,” Beca says, walking into the kitchen once Abigail runs upstairs to play with Arlo. Jax sniffs around her feet like he’s not sure if she’s there to stay. It’s fine - Beca’s not sure either. “Can we talk, Chlo?”
Chloe doesn’t even turn from the stove. “What do you want?”
“Chloe,” Beca says in a strained tone. “Come on.”
“I gave you so many chances,” Chloe says in a deadly quiet voice. “So many opportunities to just come clean.”
“Okay, first, it didn’t mean anything. You know that! You have to know that. You are truly the only person I’m in love with. Second, on top of all of that, she kissed me.”
“And you let it happen!” Chloe exclaims, finally turning around. Beca is horrified to see the tears welling up in her wife’s eyes. “You kept up this flirtatious act and kept her around even though you knew she’d try to drive a wedge into this family.”
A flash of defensiveness rushes through her. “Oh please, Chloe. It was-”
“I swear to God, Beca Mitchell, if you tell me it was all part of an act or part of the job, I will fling this pan at you.”
Beca clamps her mouth shut and Chloe resumes her stirring. Chloe tries not to let the sting of her tears manifest in any audible form.
“I’m sorry,” Beca says quietly. “I...I know you both deserve so much better. I just want you to know how sorry I am. For everything.”
Abigail rushes back into the kitchen and nearly shrieks upon seeing them both in the same room. “Is mommy staying for dinner?”
The question is so innocent but it sends a ripple through both Beca and Chloe at the thought of Beca no longer being welcome in her own home.
Beca tries to make eye contact with Chloe who absolutely refuses to look in her direction.
“Chloe,” she tries.
“Abby, why don’t you go wash up for dinner,” Chloe says quickly, talking over Beca.
”Mama,” Abigail whines.
Chloe can’t bear the sight of both Beca and Abigail, both staring at her with hope in their eyes.
“Beca,” Chloe says quietly after a long, hopeful silence. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Abigail squeals and rushes to Chloe to hug her legs and then runs to Beca who quickly sweeps her up in a hug. Over Abigail’s chattering, Beca mouths ‘thank you’ to her wife.
Chloe says nothing in return and turns back to finish cooking.
Hi Santa,
It’s me, Abigail again. Can I ask for gifts for my mommy? I think she really needs some new rule books because she’s not very good at playing games with mama.
I’m not sure which games she’s bad at, so just send me as many as you can!
Lots of love,
Abigail Melody Mitchell-Beale
After dinner, Beca helps Chloe wash up. It had been a rather quiet dinner with only Abigail chatting incessantly between prolonged silences. Chloe had barely spoken two whole sentences to Beca.
Beca tries to start a conversation over the sound of running water. “Are you going to put more decorations up?” she asks in her attempt to break the tense silence.
Chloe sighs. “Yeah. Abby really wants to see some Christmas lights up, so I’ll have to figure that out.”
“I can help you with that.”
“I’ll be fine, Beca.”
“Chlo, I-”
“Why did you do it?” Chloe asks quietly.
“Do wh-” Beca trails off, realizing what Chloe is talking about. “Chloe, I didn’t kiss her.”
“But you waited weeks to tell me about it. And I only found out because I walked in on your conversation.” She grips the edge of the sink. “Do you know how humiliated I felt? Realizing right then and there that this woman had more insight into your life than me? Your wife?”
“I didn’t know how to...I didn’t know what to say or do,” Beca says desperately. She wants to badly to reach out and touch Chloe’s hand, but she knows her wife and she knows Chloe will pull away. “You know I’m so bad at sorting out what goes on in my head.”
“Then you tell me and we figure it out together!” Chloe exclaims. “You tell me and treat me like your partner, not like the other half of a secret!”
“I made a mistake,” Beca says in a strained voice. “God, I think about it everyday. And knowing that you were right all along about her and how I should have just let it go, I…” Shame rises up in her. “I would never do anything to jeopardize you and Abigail or - or how we were trying to-”
Chloe squeezes her eyes shut. “Beca.”
“Just, you have to know that.”
“I need time,” Chloe says, finally. Her voice is thick, on the verge of tears. “I...I just think we need space. This arrangement is fine.”
“It’s going to be Christmas, Chloe. This is going to be really hard on Abigail.”
“Do not tell me how to raise my daughter.”
Beca’s throat nearly closes. “She’s my daughter too.”
Chloe heaves a breath, trying to clear her head. “I’m sorry. I just…” She lets out the barest hint of a sob. “Can you go?”
Beca carefully places the plate down, feeling helpless and a little broken. “I’m going to say goodnight to Abby and I’ll be on my way. Goodbye.”
“Are you ready for a fun weekend at the beach house?”
Abigail smiles, tugging her little roller bag along. “I brought games so you can get better at them, mommy.”
Beca has to laugh, even if a flash of pain cuts through her. She tightens her grip on her daughter’s hand. Abigail is sometimes just the absolute perfect mix of her and Chloe. “What’d you bring?”
“I brought some cards so we can play Go Fish! But I think there are some cards missing because Butter ate them. Or maybe Jax did. Also, I brought Candyland!”
Beca internalizes her groan and outwardly smiles enthusiastically. “Amazing! We’re going to have so much fun.”
“I also brought some photo albums because I want to hear stories about you and mama.”
Beca can’t stop her expression from dropping at that. “Abby, why?”
“I want to hear stories! You always tell me stories! Tell me about Barben.”
“It’s Barden, baby.” Beca squints. “Did your mama put you up to this?”
Abigail is offended that her own mother would think so lowly of her. “No, mommy. I just want to hear stories. You’re never home and I miss when you would tell me stories.” She watches as Beca turns on the light in the house. “And why are we at the beach house without mama? We always used to come here together as a family! Since I was born!”
Beca’s eyes crinkle a little around the edges. “Honey, I don’t think you could even remember that.”
“When are you coming home?” Abigail asks, steamrolling over Beca with her questions.
Beca sighs. “Abby…”
“No! You guys always tell me it’s for grownups or tell me confusing words so I don’t understand them.”
Beca watches warily as the tantrum continues to brew. “These things take time,” she says slowly. “Abby, let’s just lie down for a bit, okay? It was kind of a long drive.”
Abigail stomps her foot. “No! You made me come out here and now you won’t even do what I want to do! Why can’t you just come home!”
“Because I messed up!” Beca exclaims, too weary to fight it. Abigail has always known exactly which buttons to push, not unlike Chloe. “I made a mistake and I regret it so much.”
“You’re not trying hard enough!” Abigail yells, frustration lacing her tone. She’s tired and dance practice was hard today. Also, Chloe had refused to see Beca when she came to pick up Abigail which was distressing. She had merely kissed Abigail on the cheek and said “I love you” without a glance in Beca’s direction.
“Abigail Melody,” Beca says firmly. “Do you want to talk about this or do you want to sit down quietly for a few minutes?”
Abigail breathes in deeply - in and out, just like how Chloe taught her - and centers herself. When she opens her eyes again, Beca is staring at her curiously.
“I want to talk,” Abigail says quietly. “I’m sorry, mommy.” She throws herself into Beca’s arms, nestling into Beca’s shoulder. “I just want you and mama to be together again. It’s what I want most for Christmas.”
The sniffle breaks Beca’s heart. She knows Abigail wears her heart on her sleeve as much as Chloe does.
“What...what stories do you want to hear?”
“I dunno,” Abigail says quietly. She resettles herself on Beca’s lap as they both recline a little on the couch. “Anything. You always tell me fun stories about you and mama.”
Beca thinks about it for a while, resting her cheek against soft brown hair. “I think you’ve heard most of them, baby. How about a story about our first Christmas together?”
Abigail sighs. “Mommy, I’ve heard that one. You said mama got you a really cool case for your headphones.”
“Oh, no. That was way before we started dating. I meant our first Christmas together when we were dating.” She taps Abigail’s leg. “Before you were even born.”
“What’s all this?”
Beca spins around quickly from where she had been putting the last decoration on the tree. “You weren’t supposed to come home yet!”
Chloe pauses, her foot halfway out her shoe. “I can leave,” she teases. Her eyes quickly assess the boxes and plastic wrap strewn everywhere across Beca’s living room. “Did you buy out the entire holiday section at Target?”
Beca huffs, dusting her hands in a vain attempt to rid herself of the glitter now permanently fused with her body. “No, I just...called in a few favors and had some coworkers bring me spare decorations.”
“It looks really festive,” Chloe says, finally making her way towards Beca.
“Yeah, I knew how sad you were about being unable to go with your parents to Europe for Christmas, so I figured I’d just make your Christmas here as amazing as possible.” Beca then looks mildly embarrassed. “I mean, the tree isn’t really big or anything or - or the food isn’t really amazing, but I figured we could just sit on the couch together and watch whatever movie you want.”
Chloe’s entire body seems to glow with happiness. “Beca, that sounds perfect. ”
Beca sags in relief. “Really?”
Chloe laughs, reaching Beca. She places her hands on Beca’s cheeks, using her thumbs to stroke soft skin. “I’m just...always excited to spend time with you. I want to build more traditions with you. I can’t wait,” she promises before leaning in to brush a soft kiss across Beca’s lips. “Also,” she continues, resting her forehead against Beca’s. “I can’t believe you beat me to ‘surprise Christmas decorations’ in this relationship.”
“I love you,” Beca murmurs, lifting her arms to hold Chloe closer to her.
“And that was when I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with your mama,” Beca says, trailing off wistfully. She wisely cut some choice moments from that Christmas, deciding to go with the leaner version of the story. “I mean, I guess I always knew on some level, but just spending a quiet Christmas in with just her and listening to her sing every Christmas carol she knew...I don’t know. Something about it.”
Beca trails off into pensive silence, forgetting momentarily that she had been relaying a story to a seven-year old. When she catches Abigail’s eyes again, Abigail is staring at her with adoration and Beca is reminded of how much she loves her daughter, her wife, and the family they created together.
Bellas included.
Dear Santa,
I think it’s been a while since my mommies have asked you for anything, so I want to tell you a little bit about them.
You already know mommy! She’s the best singer in the whole world. I really like when she sings Aunt Emily’s lullaby to me because she always looks really happy when she does it. She tells me that me and mama are her favorite people to sing to! But I’m sure she’ll make an exception for you if you ask nicely or pay her lots of money! When mama talks about mommy, she always talks about how mommy made her a better person. Mommy helps a lot of people, but she really loves mama a lot. Mama likes to brush mommy’s hair because she says it calms her down. Mommy just lets her even if her hair person always gives her a weird look after.
Mama is also the best singer in the whole world! She doesn’t sing as much as mommy does, though. I think mama’s hair is so pretty. She says when she was younger, people made fun of her and that made me sad. I asked her if mommy ever made fun of her and she said that mommy was her best friend, but that confused me because I thought Aunt Aubrey was mama’s best friend. Mama works with animals, by the way. She could totally do a check up for Rudolph and Prancer if you want to come by earlier! Mama lets me come into work sometimes when it’s quiet and we just watch the cute dogs and cats! Mama adopted Butter from work actually. Mommy says mama made her have an epic phony! She said it was mama who made her see that she was super talented or something like that and now she’s famous! Mommy smiles a lot at mama - more than she does when people take photos of her.
Mommy and mama used to tell me all these great stories about when they were in school together, but I like the stories they tell me about how they started dating. I used to get really squirmy about hearing it but that was when I was six and I’m older now. Mama said she asked mommy out but mommy said she definitely asked her out. Then they usually start laughing and staring at each other and maybe kissing, which is still gross. It’s okay, I’m usually there to stop them.
I think mommy really did something to hurt mama’s feelings, but I can tell they both love each other a lot. I know that I should be writing to Cupid since this is about love, but Santa do you think maybe you can make an exception and help my mommies be in love again? I want to sit with mama and mommy at the piano and sing and laugh and play but we haven’t done that in a while. At least three weeks! A month!
From,
Abigail Melody Mitchell-Beale
“I just don’t know what to do,” Abigail laments to Bella. Bella feels like an older sister. She’s eleven , so she knows way more than Abigail does.
“Have you tried making them kiss under the mistletoe?”
Abigail’s nose scrunches. “Why would I want to make them kiss ?” She pretends to gag.
Bella snickers. “That means they like each other, silly! My mom told me that kissing is for grown-ups, but that when I’m older, I can kiss people if I like them and they like me back. It’s important that they like each other!”
“My mommies love each other,” Abigail corrects.
Bella shrugs. “I don’t think it makes a difference. If they love each other, maybe they should figure out how to like each other.”
Abigail thinks about that for a moment. “Where do I get the...the mittletoe thing?”
“Mistletoe,” Bella corrects quickly. “And I think my mom has some around We can find some!”
Before they can sneak into the basement, Stacie and Beca appear in the doorway of Bella’s room. “Where are you two going?” Stacie asks quickly, raising an eyebrow.
“To look for mistletoe,” Abigail says before Bella can nudge her or shush her.
Beca looks like she might choke on air and the look she shoots Stacie is comical.
“Ah,” Stacie says in an understanding tone. “Well, we can do that later. Right now, your mom has a favor to ask of you,” she says to Abigail.
“You up for it?” Beca asks.
“Are you moving back in?” Abigail asks, leaping forward towards Beca excitedly.
Beca’s smile is gentle and loving. “I’m doing my best, baby.”
Dear Santa,
Please help my mommies meet each other under the mistletoe! Also, you should really get Bella that sled she really wants.
All my love,
Abigail
“Why is there mistletoe everywhere?” Amy asks. She smirks at Beca. “Not being subtle tonight, I see.”
Beca rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. Abigail’s been obsessed with it lately. I feel like I’m about to be ambushed at any moment.”
“She’s obviously trying to get you and Chloe to…” Amy gestures vaguely with her hands.
Beca isn’t sure she wants to unpack those hand gestures at the moment. Instead, her brow furrows as she focuses on slicing the ridiculously gigantic slab of ham. “You don’t think I know that?” she asks softly.
“You know we’re all here for both of you, right?” Amy says with sudden warmth in her tone. “If you guys ever need anything...I’m sure Aubrey or Stacie would be down to help.”
Beca laughs. “I’m sure they would.”
“Is Chloe going to kill you when she gets home?”
Aubrey chooses that moment to walk into the kitchen balancing a pie, two wine bottles, and a bowl of mashed potatoes. “Of course Chloe won’t kill Beca. If she wanted to, she would have done it already.” She settles everything carefully on the counter before moving to give Beca a quick hug. “How are you?”
Seeing Aubrey brings warmth to Beca’s life - something she might not have previously expected. However, Aubrey has proven to be a stellar choice as Abigail’s godmother and Beca adores Aubrey with all her heart. She’s not sure where she and Chloe would be without Aubrey.
“Could be better,” Beca responds. “Chloe hasn’t been as cold recently, but I really…” she trails off, blinking as an unexpected stinging manifests in her eyes. “I just miss her and I miss being home.”
Aubrey’s expression flickers into sadness. “I know, Beca. But Chloe has probably long forgiven you, you know that right? She’s just...processing her own feelings.”
“It doesn’t mean that I still don’t feel like shit every time I see how upset she looks.”
“Language,” Aubrey chides softly, on instinct.
Beca loves having a full house for the holidays.
By the time Chloe gets home, everybody is settled in. The moment Chloe walks into the house, she freezes, taking in the sight of the amount of people gathered in the foyer of the house, all smiling and holding various gifts and drinks. Her eyes lock onto Beca who is just off-center from everybody. She’s smiling a little sheepishly, but holding Abigail’s hand who is positively giddy.
“Oh my God,” Chloe says quietly. “Beca, what-?”
“I thought we could have a quiet night in,” Beca says finally, once Chloe’s staring has gone on for long enough. “Well, as quiet as it can get with...” she gestures with her free hand at the still smiling Bellas.
Abigail cheers quietly and runs forward to grab Chloe’s hands. “Mama, are you surprised?”
“Infinitely so,” Chloe murmurs, bending down to quickly press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “You look beautiful, baby.” Her eyes lift to meet Beca’s once more. “Everything looks beautiful.”
Beca swallows. "Yeah," she murmurs, just under her breath. "It really does."
“You didn’t have to do all of this, Beca,” Chloe says quietly, once she finds a quiet moment with Beca in the kitchen. “I know you’ve been busy with producing that latest album and meetings with the upper management. Hosting a Christmas party isn’t exactly relaxing.”
“I know you’ve been stressed with work too, Chloe. It’s been hard...with everything. I thought it’d be nice to have all our friends together for just one night this holiday season. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Chloe stifles a smile. She knows how much Beca hates organizing Bellas get-togethers. “How many bribes did you have to hand out?”
Beca’s entire posture relaxes. “Just one. To Amy. She just wanted me to help her meet Britney Spears.”
Chloe laughs at that and it’s so free and unrestrained that Beca finds herself falling in love with Chloe all over again. She watches Chloe for a moment, just taking in the sight of her laughing in their beautiful kitchen.
Once Chloe resteadies herself, she takes a long, hard look at Beca, really assessing her. She wonders if it’s the holiday spirit, but she feels warmth well up inside her. She has been in love with Beca Mitchell for so long. She just wants to be able to hold Beca again without the sharp, stinging reminder that Beca contributed to the fracturing of the trust in their relationship.
It had been so easy to forgive Beca for everything back then. Beca would just have to fix her gaze on her and apologize and Chloe would melt right in Beca’s embrace.
Now, however, they’ve grown up and come so far from then. Since their university days they got married. They have a child together. Chloe marvels at the path they’ve embarked on.
She still can’t imagine doing any of this without Beca by her side.
“We should...talk about everything,” Chloe says slowly. “I want to talk about things, okay, Beca? I mean, I guess we could talk now, but our friends are...” She looks around the empty kitchen, listening to the sounds of their friends laughing elsewhere in the house. “I’d love for this conversation to be private.”
The happiness that shines in Beca’s eyes is contagious because Chloe finds herself smiling hesitantly in response.
"I know. I wasn’t...expecting to talk about anything, really,” Beca says honestly. “I invited our friends because I knew you’d want to see them, not because I think they deserve a show or anything.”
Chloe smiles. Beca hated it when their friends got too nosy. “I believe you,” she tells Beca.
Beca takes a deep breath at that. “I want to be happy again and I’ve long since figured out that I just can't be happy without you, Chlo.” A million memories of her life with Chloe flash through her mind, starting with Chloe’s bright smile on a warm August day all those years ago, and ending with Chloe tearfully smiling at Beca, holding their little bundle of joy in her arms. “I'll never apologize enough for messing up, but please…you’ve always given me the benefit of the doubt even when I know - when we both know - I don’t deserve it.” Beca heaves a breath, watching Chloe’s eyes carefully. “I promise to do better, baby. I would never do anything to hurt you like that again."
The memory is still so fresh in Chloe’s mind. Deep down, she knows that Beca meant no harm - that Beca was likely just being a little too unassuming. But a part of her knows that Beca had some idea of what was going on. She has spent years in the industry. Still, she credits Beca with her generally honest nature and the fact that Beca’s responses to critical situation are still born out of the best intentions and the goodness of her heart.
"Let me make you fall in love with me again,” Beca continues when Chloe doesn’t respond immediately. “You can…just, please. I’ll - I'll be better this time. I’ll do anything." Beca implores. She feels her throat tighten as she watches Chloe’s eyes. She’s looking for some kind of tell, other than the moisture in both their eyes. “I was so stupid,” she says softly. “Please, let me keep this family, Chloe.” Trying to keep a steady hand, she slowly brushes her fingers down Chloe’s jaw.
“Beca,” Chloe croaks.
Beca nods, encouraging her to continue, but the words stick somewhere in Chloe’s chest, unable to come forth. Her thumb comes to rest at the corner of Chloe’s mouth before slowly dragging across the soft flesh of her lip.
Beca always made her want to do things that were outside her comfort zone; it was always Beca who made the Bellas better. Chloe fell in love with Beca so slowly that she didn’t realize it had happened until it was too late and she knew she had fallen too far and too deeply to get out.
Shutting her eyes, Chloe waits – always just waiting for Beca to do something.
Before another thought can plague Chloe’s mind, Beca’s lips meet hers softly and gently, as tentative as their first kiss had been.
Slowly, they begin to start anew: they relearn each other’s mouths and trace familiar paths and slowly come together once more. Beca couldn’t believe she had almost let this all slip through her fingers. Chloe was all she needed; she knew that then and she knows that now.
Chloe hadn’t forgotten how happy Beca made her – she would never forget. But now, kissing the love of her life, she feels every feeling - every emotion - rush back into her body, happy to have finally found their way home now that she’s back into Beca’s arms.
Neither of them has time to pull away in time when the footsteps rush down the hall and into the kitchen.
“Oh my God!" Abigail shrieks upon seeing her mothers in the kitchen. "You're kissing! On the mouth! And there’s no mistletoe! You’re just kissing! I have to tell Bella! And Aunt Aubrey!" Her screams eventually reach a pitch so shrill that Beca feels Chloe tense and wince in her arms. She has to laugh and presses a kiss against Chloe’s cheek, half to appease Abigail again and half to make Chloe blush. She delights when she succeeds in making Abigail collapse into another peal of screaming and laughing as well as ensuring Chloe’s cheek stays a little flushed.
“Did you plan that?” Chloe asks, raising an eyebrow. The playfulness is not lost in Beca. “I don’t want to…” She leans back, trying to tear her sight away from Beca’s mouth. “We still have to...talk.”
Beca’s heart races at the return of her nickname. Coming from Chloe’s mouth, it sounds so natural, perfect, and beautiful. Chloe’s words however strike a more serious chord and Beca lets her hands drop from Chloe’s waist to hold her hands instead. The simple act of holding Chloe’s hands and not having her pull away is incredibly remarkable to Beca.
“I love you,” she says sincerely. “That’s all I know and that’s all I want you to know. I want you to be comfortable, Chlo. Just know that I love you and I want this to work. I’ll do anything.”
“You know,” Chloe says after a moment of just standing together. “I never fell out of love with you. That would be impossible.”
Around them, the sounds of their daughter screaming and the Bellas' laughter, combined with the faint hint of Christmas music fades to nothing as Beca thinks that all this love - Chloe's, their daughter's, the Bellas' - are the only gifts she'll ever need for the rest of her life.
Staring into Chloe's eyes, she sees the same love reflected back at her.
They're going to be just fine.
Fin // fic tag
Dear @acabellas I was your secret santa and am so sorry for the wait on your gift, I havent written in so long. But I hope you enjoy this little holiday story I made for you
A bit of a hs au based out of my own imagination, merry pitchmas once more my darling!
“Mamma Mia? I LOVE that one! Ooh Beca, please?” Chloe begged as she made herself comfortable on the couch in Becas basement. It was New Years Eve and the two seniors had been waiting months to get to see one another again.
“I’ve never seen it,” Beca smiled, clicking on it and sitting a few inches from the glowing woman beside her.
The two had met over the summer, a simple coffee mixup and the redhead insisted on swapping phone numbers. They had talked every day since, but found that planning get togethers was quite difficult because of school, work, sports, jobs-the life of a teenager.
So this was their second date.
A movie night on New Years Eve.
“You’ve never seen Mamma Mia!? Beca!” The redhead playfully exclaimed, and gently pushed at the girls shoulder. Beca bounced right back, blushing and closing the space between then so they could share the small blanket.
“I’m sure you’ll love it” Chloe smiled, and glanced over at the smaller woman only to see she was already looking at her.
“Well, you seem to like it, and I like you so I’ll probably like it,” Beca blushed as she made the statement and turned her attention back to the screen infront of them.
Chloe moved closer, snaking her arm around and tangling their fingers together for the first time.
Their relationship was nice.
A little slow for Chloes liking, but with being so busy all the time and the space between them, it made sense that Beca thought that staying in the gray area of “not girlfriends” was what would be best for them.
“Donna is so pretty,” Beca mumbled about halfway through the movie.
“You’re so pretty,” Chloe replied, turning to the girl she was snuggled up with and rubbing her thumb back and forth on Becas hand.
“Aw babe, you’re the sweetest.”
“You set me right up for that one, like always.” Chloe smiled, happy with their little talk in the midst of her favorite movie.
Time passed, the movie finished and midnight was nearing quickly. Beca was in Chloes lap, holding hands and singing along to the random movie Netflix put on next.
Chloes smile grew as Beca went off and began belting along with the woman on screen. Her mind was blank snd dhe was in awe of the beautiful woman sat, singing her heart out in her very own lap.
So she leant forward ever so slightly, blowing brown hair out of the way and did the only thing she could think of in the moment. Chloe gently placed her lips on the smaller womans neck, which sadly stopped the wonderful singing. She could feel the brunette blushing as she leant back into her, a cold hand coming up and wrapping gently around the back of Chloes own neck to keep her there, pressed against one another.
“You...” Chloe trailed off as Becas hands found hers. “Are so amazing,”.
The small woman shifted in her lap, faces inches apart like they had been so many times before.
It just felt so natural.
No heart beating out of her chest, no sweaty palms, butterflies in her stomach.
They were just Beca and Chloe.
“Can I kiss you?” Chloe wispered like a prayer, hands slowly coming up to cup her “not girlfriend”’s face.
“Maybe at midnight.” Beca blushed, looking anywhere but into Chloes bright blue eyes.
Red eyebrows rose as a clock struck that exact time somewhere in the old house.
Two pairs of blue eyes met, smiles growing on both faces as the gap closed between them for the first time in what felt like years.
Chloe moaned and the kiss deepened, Becas hands beginning to wander.
“I want-“ Beca whispered as Chloe fell to her back, hands tangled in brown locks. “To be your-“
Chloe had already pulled back, staring into deep blue eyes, her own filled with hope. “Girlfriend?” She asked eagerly, a smile spreading on her features.
Beca nodded, “yes, you’re girlfriend, Chloe I want to be your girlfriend.” She giggled and pressed another kiss to pink lips.
“My girlfriend!” Chloe smiled into the brunettes kiss, pulling her impossibly closer.
MERRY PITCHMAS BITCHES
Hey there @lespetitesmortsde! Merry Pitchmas, dear, I am your secret Santa.
I wrote you a bechloe fic with the prompts you gave me, and hope you enjoy both the fic and your Christmas.
FIC: “All The Small Things (Like Sitting On The Bathroom Floor)”
(I’m aware it’s likely not Christmas where you are just yet but it totally is here because Australia be like that....)
Ugly Christmas Sweater
So my Pitchmas recipient is @magda-adgam. It totally won’t let me tag your blog. Lame.
Anyway, I am hella sorry that you are getting this late. And trust me, I feel like a total dick about it. But, emergencies happen and they always seem to happen to me. So, to make it up to you, I am going to give you at least two parts to this story. Maybe three. I like to ramble when I write.
You won’t have to wait 100 years for the next installment. I am almost done with it.
Once again, I am so sorry. Merry Pitchmas/New Year!!!
How losing a bet and having to buy ugly Christmas sweaters changed Beca’s life.
Read on AO3
There were few things in life that Beca hates more than movies. If she had to pick one thing that was almost as painstakingly awful as losing two hours of her life to some predictable cinematic snorefest, it would have to be Christmas. Without a doubt. One would think that she would hate Valentine’s Day more, seeing as she was perpetually single, but no. The only reason why she could stomach Valentine’s Day just a smidgen more is because she has a soft spot for the candy hearts. Her best friend Stacie makes fun of her all the time because she tells Beca that they taste like chalk. And maybe they do, but Beca still thinks that they are delicious.
Maybe the reason behind Beca’s distain for Christmas is the fact that she worked retail throughout high school and college. Stacie never knew the horrors of dealing with bitchy people who absolutely needed the newest video game console for their bratty child. She is insanely smart and got into college on a full ride scholarship. Beca wasn’t dumb by any means, she was just lazy in high school. After she graduated, she tried to talk to her father about her college plans. She wanted to major in music management and production. He immediately freaked out and told her that he wouldn’t pay for her college education if she chose that path. According to him, she needed to major in something that would give her a lucrative career. He wanted her to be a college professor like he was. They argued about it for months. There was no way in hell that Beca was going to become a teacher. Not that she didn’t respect teachers or anything, that just wasn’t the career choice for her. Since she was a child she had loved music, and she’d be damned if her father stopped her from going to school for her dream job. So, at the end of the argument, she refused to change her career path. In turn, her father refused to pay for her school. So, she put herself through college working a horrible retail job. It paid well, but she was miserable for the entirety of it. Thus came her hatred for the whole holiday season.
Aside from Beca’s affinity for the chalky heart candies that made Valentine’s Day, she can never seem to turn down a bet. Most of the time when she bets against Stacie, she loses. But for some reason she can never stop herself from agreeing to Stacie’s outrageous bets. After fifteen years of friendship, she should know better. But, she just can’t help it.
~*~*~*~
“Come on Becs, let’s go dance.” Stacie eyes her best friend with a grin before slamming back the last of her jack and coke.
“Ugh, why? You know that I hate dancing.”
“Yeah, I know. But you’re so good at it. And I need you to be my wing woman.”
“What lucky dude does the hunter have his eye on this evening?” Beca asks with a grin as she finishes her tumbler of whiskey.
Stacie tsks softly, cupping Beca’s chin with the palm of her left hand. She leans down to lightly kiss the corner of her best friend’s mouth.
“Now Bec, you know that the hunter doesn’t discriminate when it comes to sex.”
“I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget that the hunter is so fluid. So, let me rephrase. Who is on the hunter’s radar tonight? Which lucky lady or guy will you be attempting to seduce tonight?”
“I’m getting some very sexy, sapphic vibes from a tantalizing brunette at the bar.”
“Stace, I don’t even know what the hell that means.” Beca turns her head to look over at the bar, only to be stopped by Stacie’s hand gripping her chin tightly.
“Don’t look over there. You’ll ruin the air of mystery.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, woman?”
“She thinks that we here together. That’s why I need you to dance with me. It’s like she’s having some kind of internal battle on whether she should come over here and talk to me or not.”
“Any how exactly does us dancing together help this situation?”
“Because, jealousy is going to seal the deal. After she comes over to break up our dance, I’m going to take her back to our apartment so that I can make her squeal.”
Beca scowls at Stacie’s choice of words before smacking her arm lightly. “Ew! Dude, that’s so crass. You sound like a fuckboy when you talk like that.”
“I am anything but a fuckboy, Bec. I know how to treat a lady. I won’t apologize for being crass. Now are you going to help me bag this babe or not?” A perfectly sculpted eyebrow raises in question as Stacie eyes her best friend.
“Okay, fine. But when this girl shuts you down or punches you, I’m going to laugh.”
“Keep talking crap Becs and I’ll hide your beats that I bought you when we get home. And then I will fuck that hottie all night long.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No, because I know that you’ll do it. I love you but you’re kind of an asshole.”
“Right back atcha, babe. But since you are so doubtful of my seduction skills, how about a little bet?”
Honestly, Beca is also well aware of her best friend’s sexual prowess. She has fallen victim to it many times in their fifteen year friendship. Beca isn’t ashamed of it either, she knows that her best friend is insanely attractive. And Beca is very, very gay. When the opportunity presented itself, she would’ve been a fool to say no. It hasn’t made their friendship suffer in any way either, which is something that Beca is monumentally thankful for. Stacie has a high sex drive, and rather than risk getting some sort of std, she made a deal with Beca. When Beca is single, which is more often than she’d like to admit, they sleep together. It keeps Stacie safe and it keeps them both satisfied.
So, taking this bet is really a horrible idea. But Beca has the best punishment if she manages to beat Stacie.
“Fine. What’s the bet?”
“I bet you that I can take this girl home tonight.”
“That’s it?” Beca looks over her shoulder at the girl that Stacie is talking about. She’s attractive, yeah. Tall, brunette, and she looks kind of bitchy. She’s exactly the type of girl that Stacie usually goes for. And she’s totally flirting with the very male bartender. There’s no way in hell that Stacie is going to win this bet, because this girl is totally straight. Beca smirks in the girl’s direction, Stacie totally oblivious as she runs her hands up the bartender’s bicep. “You just want to bet that you’re going to take this girl home?”
“Yup,” Stacie pops the ‘p’ loudly, biting down on her bottom lip with a smirk. “I can’t wait for you to lose this bet. I have plans for you.”
The tone of Stacie’s voice makes Beca shiver. She just hopes that whatever Stacie has planned for her is as awesome as her plan.
“Deal.”
“Oh, babe, you are so going to regret this.”
~*~*~*~*~
As it turns out, Beca didn’t stand a chance when it came to this bet. They didn’t even make it through the first song of their dance before the brunette approached them. She introduced herself as Aubrey, eyes raking over Stacie’s body shamelessly. Honestly, the way the two women were eyeing each other made Beca incredibly uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that she quickly excused herself so that she could make a beeline for the bar. She’s positive that Stacie and her flavor of the night didn’t even notice her absence.
The bartender gives Beca a sympathetic look as she slides a tumbler of whiskey over to her.
“Tough night, Becs?”
“You have no idea, C.R,” Beca mumbles from around the rim of her glass. She swallows her drink with a grimace. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight.”
“So, why did you?”
“Stacie needed to get laid. Finals have been kicking her ass.”
C.R. chuckles softly, wiping the countertop with her rag. She turns her attention to a customer, quickly making them a drink before turning her attention back to Beca.
“She’s the one that decided to go after her graduate degree. Nobody forced her to stay in school, therefore she has nobody to blame but herself.”
“This is true, but that girl is so fucking smart. She’s going to change the world.”
“Or destroy it.”
The two women share a laugh as Beca drains the last of her drink. C.R. is quick to refill Beca’s glass, pouring way too much into the tumbler.
~*~*~*~*~
The night drags on as Beca waits for Stacie to seal the deal with the angry brunette. Beca knows that she’s lost this damn bet, so she’s going to drown her sorrows in whiskey. Whiskey that Cynthia Rose isn’t going to let her pay for at the end of the night. The upside to having a close friend that is a bartender is free drinks. As long as Beca doesn’t ask for expensive, high end drinks, that is. But, she’s a college student, she will drink Jack Daniels if she doesn’t have to pay for it.
It’s nearing two a.m. when she hears her phone notification ping. She’s pleasantly buzzed, nearing on being drunk. She fumbles with her cell phone as she pulls it out of her tight jeans. Her vision is a little blurry, but she’s just going to blame it on the fog lights. Yeah, definitely not the Jameson that she has been borderline binge drinking for the last three hours. She just has to squint a little bit in order to read the text.
Best Sex Ever: (1:55 a.m.) Aubs and I took a Lyft home. Thought that I should let you know so that you don’t worry about me.
Broody Bitch: (1:56 a.m.) Did you change our contact names again?
Best Sex Ever: (1:56 a.m.) Like two weeks ago, babe. Lolz.
Broody Bitch: (1:57 a.m.) What the fuck, dude? Why?
Best Sex Ever: (1:57 a.m.) Aww, baby, don’t be mad. You know that I love you the most.
Broody Bitch: (1:57 a.m.) It’s weird that you’re telling me this while you are probably fucking another girl.
Best Sex Ever: (1:58 a.m.) Aww, Bec, are you jealous?
Broody Bitch: (1:58 a.m.) Not even close, dude. I’m just worried about the hunter’s sexual prowess. Why are you texting me, instead of making that hot chick ‘squeal?’
Best Sex Ever: (1:59 a.m.) Oh, I fully intend on making her squeal. And you know first hand just how much sexual prowess the hunter possesses. How many times have I made you scream?
Broody Bitch: (2:00 a.m.) That statement goes both ways, asshole.
Best Sex Ever: (2:00 a.m.) I’m not going to deny that you know how work this body. You just didn’t seem to be in the mood tonight. So, I decided to bring somebody home.
Broody Bitch: (2:01 a.m.) You know the rules. Also, it’s not my fault that work was a bitch today. I really just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until tomorrow. But I know that you needed some sort of release.
Best Sex Ever: (2:02 a.m.) I’m sorry babe. You manage the studio though, so you could just fire all of the incompetent assholes that work for you.
Broody Bitch: (2:02 a.m.) I know that. Stacie, remember the only rule that we have.
Best Sex Ever: (2:02 a.m.) No fucking on the couch.
Broody Bitch: (2:03 a.m.) Thank you.
Best Sex Ever: (2:03 a.m.) I don’t know why we still have that rule. We have sex on the couch all the time.
Broody Bitch: (2:04 a.m.) That’s different.
Best Sex Ever: (2:04 a.m.) It’s literally the same thing, but whatevs. I gotta go, Aubrey is all sorts of naked on my bed right now. Love you, bitch.
Broody Bitch: (2:05 a.m.) Love you too, asshat! Also, I hope this goes without saying, but don’t fuck that girl in my bed!
Best Sex Ever: (2:06 a.m.) I’m sorry, the person you’re trying to reach is currently preforming cunnilingus. Please try again later.
Broody Bitch: (2:07 a.m.) Anastacia Marie Conrad, I swear to Lesbian Jesus that I will tit punch you if you have sex in my bed again.
Beca slams her phone down on the bar top with an annoyed sigh. Cynthia Rose smirks at her friend as she refills Beca’s tumbler. She should probably cut Beca off, but she knows that the brunette can hold her liquor. Despite her small stature, Beca can definitely drink with the best of them.
“Last one, Becs.”
“Whyyyy? C.R., you’re killing me.”
“I’m not in the business of letting you get white girl wasted. Remember what happened the last time that you did.”
“It wasn’t my fault, dude. That skeezy guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. I told him that we played for the same team and he refused to leave me alone. He even grabbed my ass.”
“So that gives you the right to break his nose?”
“He touched me first. Sorry, not sorry.”
“Regardless, you are not allowed to get wasted when Stacie isn’t here to keep you from kicking the shit out of somebody.”
“I have you.”
“I have to close the bar. And I’m sure that I have other people to get drinks for before I kick everybody out.”
“Ugh, fine. Take away all my fun.”
“Whatever, you love me.”
“Hardly.”
~*~*~*~*~
The buzz of her alarm startles her awake at what she knows is a godawful hour. Her head feels like somebody is jackhammering inside of it, and her mouth is as dry as the Sahara. Beca groans painfully as she stretches out her sore muscles.
“I’m never drinking again,”Beca grumbles to the otherwise empty room. She reaches out blindly, scrambling to grab her phone off of the bedside table. Her hand smacks softly against a glass cup that definitely wasn’t there when she went to bed at three a.m. She opens one eye slowly, looking over at the table. A fresh glass of water is sitting where her phone was last night. Two round orange pills are next to the glass, sitting on top of a folded piece of paper.
“What the fresh hell?”
Beca grabs the pills hastily, throwing them into her mouth and swallowing them dry. She sits up with another groan, rolling her shoulders to work out the knots. She grabs the glass and chugs down the water, slamming the glass back onto the table a little too hard, wincing at the loud clunk. She then turns her attention to the folded up piece of paper that she knows for sure wasn’t there this morning. She grabs the paper and unfolds it, tired eyes roaming over Stacie’s loopy scrawl.
Becs,
You lost our bet, babe. I don’t know why you continue to bet against me when you almost always lose, but whatever. I’ll bask in my glory.
I made a fresh pot of coffee. When you’re feeling human enough to leave your room, come get some. Aubrey and I are in the living room. You and I have a date to go shopping this afternoon.
Love ya,
Stace xoxo
Beca groans, crumpling up the note and tossing it onto the bed. She gets up, wincing at the painful throb in her entire body. She walks to her en suite, stripping off her dirty clothes and leaving them carelessly in her wake. If she has to go shopping, taking a shower is a must.
She just hopes that whatever Stacie has planned for shopping isn’t completely horrible.
~*~*~*~*~
“Stacie, no.”
“Stacie, yes.”
“I’m not going in there.”
“But you are.”
“Why?” Beca whines petulantly, frowning at her best friend.
“Because you lost our bet. And my punishment for you is that for the next two weeks, you have to wear ugly Christmas sweaters. A different one each day, to be exact.”
“I….but you know that I hate Christmas time.”
“I know.” Stacie laughs softly. “That’s what makes this punishment even sweeter.”
“You know, when you said that we were going shopping, I thought that this punishment might be fun.”
Stacie grips Beca’s shoulder as they walk through the front door of the store. The fluorescent sign above the door says ‘Aca-amazing Threads.’ Just the name alone makes Beca want to vomit. She can tell before they walk in that there is going to be a really perky, annoying salesperson. The store will more than likely be playing Christmas music, even though it’s barely the fourth of December. A tiny bell announces their presence before Beca can make a stealthy escape.
“Hi!” An all too perky voice calls out as Stacie and Beca make their way into the building. Beca hasn’t completely recovered from her hangover, so that cheery voice just makes her cringe.
“No, Stace. For lesbian Jesus’ stake. I am too hungover to deal with that voice.”
“Beca, you seriously don’t have a choice in this matter.” Stacie’s grip on Beca’s shoulder tightens slightly. Beca winces at the movement, but not in pain. To be honest, the forcefulness of her best friend is kind of turning her on a little bit. But now is not the time or the place for that.
“Dude, I will literally do anything else.”
“Nope, I think that this is the right punishment. Aubrey actually helped me come up with it.”
“Of course she did. I knew that she looked evil as hell.”
“That woman is amazing, not evil.”
“Awww, Conrad. Are you getting soft on me?”
“Hardly. I’m just letting you know that I’m going to marry that girl one day. So you should probably be nice to your future….I was going to say sister-in-law but that thought just kind of makes me want to puke. It makes us sound like sisters.”
“Ew, dude. Sisters don’t do the things that we’ve done to each other.”
“At least, not normally.”
“Welcome to Aca-Amazing Threads, ladies. Are you looking for anything in particular?” The chipper voice is closer now, making Beca finally turn her attention away from her best friend.
The first look that Beca gets of this chipper woman takes her breath away.
The woman is gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.
She’s a little bit taller than Beca, with bright blue eyes. Her red hair makes her eyes look ridiculously blue. Her smile is so bright that it makes Beca’s sensitive eyes hurt. Beca does a once over of the other woman, looking at her nametag after what she hopes is a subtle glance at her boobs.
Beca is so, so gay and this woman is one thousand percent her type.
Her subtle staring might not be so subtle because before she knows it, Stacie is jabbing her in the stomach with her elbow.
“Ouch, what the fuck dude?”
“Becs, tell Chloe the reason why we’re here.”
“I need a sweater….” Beca mumbles quietly, still gob smacked by this outrageously attractive woman.
“Okay, that’s a start. What kind of sweater are we looking for?” The woman enthusiastically grabs Beca’s hand, pulling the brunette alongside her.
“What my best friend is looking for is a Christmas sweater.”
“Okay. We have plenty of Christmas sweaters. Tis the season after all.”
“I hate you so much right now, Anastacia.” Beca grumbles as Chloe stops them in front of a very elaborate display of Christmas sweaters. She turns her head to glare at the best friend, scoffing when she is nowhere in sight. After looking around the store, Beca notices her, standing by the front doors, looking down at the phone with a goofy grin.
She’s probably texting that girl from last night. Amanda or Ashley or whatever her name was. Beca makes a mental note to give Stacie so much shit when they get home.
“Are you guys looking for matching sweaters? I always love it when couples have matching sweaters.”
“Oh no, we aren’t a couple.” Beca’s eyes roam over Chloe’s body once more. It dawns on her at that moment that Chloe is still holding her hand. Her entire body feels warm next to the other girl. She wants nothing more in that moment than to pull Chloe’s body against hers.
Whoa. You’re treading dangerous waters here, Mitchell.
“No? You guys sure argue like one.”
“No. Not even close. She’s just my best friend. We’ve known each other for a long time.”
“Gotcha.” Chloe clears her throat softly. “So, do you see any sweaters that catch your eye?”
“Yeah, that one.” Beca blindly points to the sweater that is closest to Chloe. She has literally no idea what the sweater looks like, to be honest. She just needs to get far away from this girl before she does something stupid.
She’s actually surprised that she can still form coherent sentences at this point. Usually she becomes a useless mess around pretty girls.
Chloe is so breathtakingly beautiful that Beca should probably be drooling troll by now.
Beca watches Chloe as she walks away to look for the sweater in her size, which she totally didn’t tell the other girl. She is about to call out to the other woman, but all the can think about is how cold her hand feels without Chloe’s wrapped around it.
“Becs? I am going to leave you here in Chloe’s very capable hands. I’m meeting Aubrey for lunch down the street.”
Stacie’s voice breaks Beca out of her reverie.
“How am I supposed to get home? You drove here.”
“Well it just so happens that the bistro that we’re going to is like five blocks down the road. So, after Chloe helps you pick out your sweater, you guys can meet us there.”
“Fine. That’s fine.” Beca’s eyes widen as Stacie’s words sink in. “Wait, what?”
“Oh didn’t I tell you? Chloe is Aubrey’s best friend.”
“What the fuck dude?!” Beca hisses under her breath. “I can’t go to lunch with her.”
“Why?”
“Because, dude, she is so fucking attractive.” Beca huffs indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know how I get around pretty girls, Stace.”
“I know. You become a useless lesbian.”
“I can’t be around her. I’ll make a fool of myself.”
“Would it help matters or make them worse if I told you that she thinks you’re totally hot.”
“That doesn’t help, at all Stacie!” Beca squeaks, her neck flushing with embarrassment. “Also, how do you know that?”
“Um, so I’ve maybe been dating Aubrey for the past month,” Stacie whispers. “Look, Bec….”
“Are you fucking kidding me!?!?” Beca yells at her best friend, waving her arms in the air.
“Seriously Becs, I’ve been meaning to tell you. It just hasn’t come up.”
“That’s a copout and you know it. We spend a lot of time together, you could’ve told me at any point. Were you guys dating while we were still sleeping together?”
“Yes.”
“Stacie….”
“No, you gotta hear me out. We were only kind of seeing each other. It wasn’t anything serious. But I really like her Beca. And for the first time since I dated Joey Presley sophomore year of high school, I can see myself falling in love with her.”
“That’s great.” Beca shoves her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans. She’s mad, sure. But she hasn’t seen this look in Stacie’s eyes in the last eight years. So, really she wants to support her best friend, but fuck, she really hates it when people lie to her. “Really it is, Stace. I’m happy that you found somebody to make you want to settle down. But you didn’t have to lie to me.”
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You kind of did though. Lying by omission is still a lie. And what’s worse is that you felt like you couldn’t tell me that you met somebody.”
“Becs, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Save it. I’m gonna go. Have a good lunch with your girl. I’ll see you later.”
“Beca…”
Beca holds a hand up to stop Stacie.
“Just, don’t right now. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Without another word, Beca walks out of the store.
~*~*~*~*~*
The next three days are absolute torture for Beca. She doesn’t like fighting with her best friend. But she is mad and a little bit hurt. Not because Stacie found somebody that she wants to be exclusive with, because honestly Beca wants that for her best friend. It just kind of makes her feel gross to know that Stacie was still sleeping with her while dating another person. Just because it makes her feel like a little bit like a homewrecker, even if they weren’t technically together.
So, for the past three days Beca’s been crashing on Cynthia Rose’s couch. She’s pretty sure that C.R.’s girlfriend Denise is ready to scream from having little to no privacy. But she’s too nice to say anything.
She’s done her fair share of housework and cooking to try and make up for the fact that she’s basically freeloading. She also hid money inside of C.R.’s refrigerator last night. She’s not planning on telling her until after she leaves the apartment, because she knows that C.R. will find a way to slip it back into her bag.
Stacie has tried texting and calling her nonstop since she stormed out of the clothing store. Beca wasn’t ready to talk to her, so she has been ignoring her best friend’s messages. If she’s completely honest, she’s still not quite ready, but she’s out of clean clothes and C.R.’s laundry room is out of order. So, if that isn’t a sign from Lesbian Jesus that she needs to go home, then Beca doesn’t know what is.
Luckily, when Beca gets dropped off by Denise, Stacie is still in class. Beca thanks Denise before trudging up the two flights of stairs that lead her to her and Stacie’s apartment. She goes into Stacie’s room to grab her dirty clothes so that she can wash them along with her own. After starting the washing machine, Beca grabs a beer out of the fridge and plops her body onto the living room couch. She puts something menial on television to pass the time until the inevitable conversation the she will have with her best friend.
She’s so immersed in the cooking competition on the television that she doesn’t notice the box on the table right away. It isn’t until she goes to put her feet up on the table that it finally catches her attention. Well, the attention of her feet, anyway.
Beca grabs the box and pulls it into her lap. She studies the box curiously. She’s not quite sure what it is, but her name is written on top of it. It’s in a loopy cursive scrawl that she knows isn’t Stacie’s. She unties the ribbon on the box and opens it.
Beca isn’t able to stop the sarcastic chuckle from escaping her lips when she sees the most godawful Christmas sweater that she’s ever seen in her life. On top of the sweater is a folded up piece of paper. Beca grabs the piece of paper out of the box and then sets the ugly ass sweater on the couch beside her.
With a sigh, Beca reclines her body against the couch and unfolds the paper.
Beca,
Here’s the sweater that you picked out. Although, I’m pretty sure that you just blindly pointed to one. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas sweaters but this one is just terrible. You left before I could bring it out to you, so I bought it and had Stacie bring it home for you.
I’m pretty bummed that you didn’t come out to lunch with Stacie, Aubrey and I. While we were eating, Stacie told me about the whole not telling you about her relationship with Aubs. I’m sorry that she kept that from you, it totes sucks.
I know that I didn’t really get to talk to you much while you were in the store, but here is my number in case you want to get together sometime. I think that we’ll be fast friends.
Enjoy the sweater!
Chloe XOXO
Beca laughs softly at the cheekiness of the redhead. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and immediately opens up her text messages. She types in Chloe’s phone number and creates a contact, listing her under ‘Redheaded Babe.’ She starts a new message thread using the acquired phone number.
Beca takes her time planning out her message to Chloe. She doesn’t want to sound like a complete idiot if she actually sacks up and sends the text. She barely knows this girl, there is no reason for her to be so damn nervous. She’s such a gay disaster and Chloe just might be her undoing.
After much deliberation, she finally types out the message. She presses send before she can talk herself out of it.
Unknown (4:30 p.m.) Hey.
When she rereads what her ridiculous brain actually came up with, she wants to punch herself in the throat.
‘Hey.’ So freaking eloquent, Beca.
If Chloe didn’t think that you were an idiot before, she surely will now. There’s no way Chloe’s going to respond to that stupid message. No way in hell.
With a resigned sigh, Beca tosses her cell phone onto the couch cushion next to her. She’s just going to sit in place and die of embarrassment now. She leans back against the back of the couch, bringing her left hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She’s so busy chastising herself that she doesn’t hear the ping of her phone.
TBC
Merry Pitchmas!
@mysterious-teen-blogger I’m you’re Secret Santa! :D
I know I’m a little late to the party, but I hope you still enjoy your gift! :)
You asked, I answered. ;)
@merry-pitchmas
Hey! It’s your Secret Santa! Just wanted to keep you updated. I will be flying back home tomorrow evening, so your gift will hopefully be finished and uploaded in the next few days! 😄
I hope everything is good with you and your family! And I look forward to it whenever you are able to finish it, no worries!
Emily folds the slip of paper closed and stuffs it into the pocket of her mustard-colored peacoat. She takes a few steps down the long corridor of the humanities wing of Barden University’s Walton Hall. She stops again and retrieves the small piece of paper from her pocket, silently praying that the name inside had somehow changed or that this was all some sort of fever-induced nightmare. Aubrey Posen. Nope. Not a dream. Emily shakes her head as she stares down at the name typed boldly in 12 point Helvetica.
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This is my Pitchmas gift to @emilyjunk! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you have a wonderful Christmas!
