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Fallin' For You

Summary:

“'This is just like the movies,” Jesse explains. “You’re like this public-ish figure and nobody understands you, but you’re always getting recognized and it’s made you extremely jaded. Enter: a cute and smiley barista who has absolutely no idea who you are and yet, is completely smitten with you. The setting: a beautiful LA autumn. As the air cools, our reluctant hero’s heart warms. As the leaves fall, so does one Beca Mitchell.”'

OR: Fall-themed coffee shop au

Notes:

very very minor tw for a brief ~humorous~ mention of drugs in passing.

anyway, you will never guess where i work

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Pumpkin spice latte for Jill!”

Beca frowns as she steps up to the register, eyes scanning over the menu.

“Hi!” The peppy barista says to her, giving her a wide smile. “How are you doing today?”

Beca meets her gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Did I just hear the words pumpkin spice? It’s August.”

“Sure did.” The barista -- her decorated neon-lettered name tag reads Emily -- nods enthusiastically. “Seems like it gets here earlier every year.”

“That’s…” Beca searches for an adequate word that doesn’t make her sound rude, but comes up short. She settles on: “Festive.”

Emily laughs. “I mean, everyone does love Fall. It’s just that it’s still like, eighty-five degrees, so. The vibes are a little forced. But hey, fake it ‘til you make it, right?”

“Mmm,” Beca smiles absently. “That’s one outlook, I guess.”

Emily shrugs. “So what can I get for you?”

“I’ll just have a grande cold brew. Black. Thanks.”

“One grande cold brew, coming right up! $3.81. And can I get a name for the order?”

Beca hands over a five. “Beca.”

“Great. Well, my friend Chloe will have your cold brew at the end, Beca. Have a great rest of your day!” 

Beca nods as Emily gives back her change. She shoves the dollar and some change into the tip jar and walks down to the end.

The equally enthusiastic barista making drinks smiles at her. “Pumpkin frappuccino for Greg! I’ve got a cold brew for Beca coming next.”

Beca shakes her head as a teen boy grabs his frap off the counter. Pumpkin, Beca thinks. 

It’s fucking August.

//

“Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get for you!”

Beca steps up to the counter. It’s the same barista as last time. Emily. Beca notices she has a new pin on her apron. PRIDE ALLIANCE. “Hi. I’ll have a grande cold brew. Black. Thanks.”

“No problem!” Emily touches the screen a few times. “May I have a name for the order?”

“Beca.”

“Great. That’ll be $3.81 for you Beca!”

Beca hands over a five. “I like your pin,” she says, gesturing at Emily’s apron. 

Emily glances down. When she looks up, she’s beaming. “Thanks! I love it, too.” She hands Beca back her change. “Okay, Beca, your change is $1.19 and Stacie’s gonna have your cold brew at the end for you!”

Beca drops her change in the tip jar. “Thanks.”

“Have a great rest of your day!”

“You too.”

//

“Happy September, what can I get for you today? Oh! Hey, Beca.”

Beca blinks, wary of this unexpected recognition. “Hi… Emily.” The name feels foreign and unfamiliar as it rolls off the tongue. “Am I really here that often that you remember me?”

“Ah,” Emily grins, her forearm resting on top of the display case next to her as she taps on the register screen. “Nah. It really only takes like three times for me to remember someone. And you’re pretty memorable. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh.” Beca scratches at her nose. “It’s a little embarrassing, dude.”

“Noooo,” Emily whines. “Really. I’m super good with faces. And,” she shrugs cutely. “You liked my pin. So you just stood out. It’s no biggie, promise. So, are you doing your cold brew today?”

Beca nods weakly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“You should try the pumpkin cold brew,” Emily suggests, eyes wide. “It’s like… so good.”

“It’s like drugs!” Calls another barista walking behind Emily. “It’s addicting.”

Beca grimaces. “It’s just… not Fall.”

“It’s September now, though,” Emily says. “It’s like… the month when it turns to Fall. So it’s basically Fall. And Chloe’s right, although I wouldn’t ever suggest to a customer any imagery involving drugs, Chloe…” 

Chloe snorts. “Fine. It’s the tits, then.”

“Chloe!”

“What? Aubrey’s not here! And Beca’s cool. Right, Beca?” The other barista, Chloe, gives her a winning smile.

Beca chuckles, completely dumbfounded by the entire interaction since stepping up to the register. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

“So,” Emily says, raising her eyebrows. “You want the drugs? I mean the pumpkin foam?” Chloe devolves into giggles and Emily’s lips twitch, but she keeps a straight face, waiting for Beca to respond. 

Beca decides fuck it . “Sure, why not.”

“Yes!” Emily fistpumps, and it’s so dorky and endearing Beca can’t help but laugh. “Okay, a grande pumpkin cream cold brew for Beca. That’s $4.97.”

Beca snorts. “Wow, squeezing more money out of me, huh?”

Emily winks. “Ma’am, I don’t make the prices, I just press the button on the screen.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She hands over a ten. “Keep the change.”

Emily beams. “Hey, thanks.”

“This better be as good as drugs,” Beca murmurs and Emily laughs.

“Caffeine is technically a drug, you know, so.” She raises a playful eyebrow. “See you for your next hit.”

Beca shakes her head and walks away as Emily starts to help the next customer. Chloe slides her cold brew, topped with a thick orange foam and reddish-brown powder, across the counter. Beca eyes it warily before taking a tentative sip.

Her eyes widen.

“Well?” Chloe asks. 

“Holy shit.”

“Told you.” She looks to see if Emily’s still helping the next customer. “We got another one!” She calls when the customer’s walking away from the register.

Emily laughs and waves. “Enjoy, Beca! See you next time.”

“You sure will,” Beca says.

//

Her wallet is suffering. Her calorie intake? Also probably suffering. 

She can’t keep doing this.

Here she is again, for the eighth day in a row, fucking doing this.

“Hey, Emily.”

“Hiya, Beca! What’s up?”

“You know. Just… here again.”

“Wow, so weird, me too.” Beca rolls her eyes and Emily grins. “You doing the pumpkin again?”

Beca twists her lips. “Do you even need to ask at this point?”

“It’s polite.” 

“Yeah, okay.”

“Then that is $4.97.” Beca coughs up another ten. “You know, you should get the app. You can still pay with cash, but at least you’ll get rewards to build up to free ones! And a free one on your birthday. It’s awesome.”

Beca sighs. She’s not one of these Starbucks basic pumpkin bitches. Except, ugh, she fucking is. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

Emily hums as if to placate her. “I mean, I don’t know why you’d need to think about free ones but hey, you do you, babe.”

“Do they train you to be this persuasive or are you just like this naturally?”

Emily’s lips quirk upward. “This is part of the training, actually. And how to make prolonged eye contact.”

“Lovely.”

“Chloe’s gonna have your deliciously addictive foam that could’ve been free with the app down at the end, Beca. Have a great rest of your day.”

Emily smiles, making extremely prolonged eye contact. Beca grunts, forcing herself not to look away. But Emily’s eyes are like, this gorgeous deep brown and very earnest and she clearly has professional training in making eye contact and, ugh, whatever! Fuck this stupid company and their cute baristas. She breaks the stare and walks away, dropping her change in the tip jar as she goes.

Emily’s laughter follows her all the way down to the pickup counter.

//

“Hi, Beca!”

“Hey, Beca!”

“Good morning, Beca!”

The chorus of overenthusiastic baristas greeting her the second she steps in the door should really make her start to think twice about coming to this particular Starbucks every day. And yet… here she is, once again.

“Are you getting your usual, Beca?”

“Why are you even asking if you already started making it before she orders?”

“Mind your business, Chloe.”

“No, Stacie, I’m obviously her favorite so I have to make her drink.”

“As if. And you’re too late, I already made it!”

Beca steps up to the register, making horrified eye contact with an amused Emily. “Uh.”

“They like to fight over the regulars,” Emily explains as Stacie slides between the register and Emily to plop a pumpkin cold brew on the counter. 

“There you go!”

“Thanks?” Beca laughs, both bewildered and amused.

“Hope that’s what you were getting,” Emily says with a scrunch of her nose as Stacie goes back to the bar.

Beca frowns. “Yeah. Guess I’m predictable, huh?”

“Not any more predictable than anyone else who comes here.” 

“Right.” She holds up her phone. “So, I did that thing, how do I…”

Emily peers at her phone, gasping happily when she sees the app on-screen. “You got it! Yes you’re gonna get so many free ones! Okay, just tap there… yep, now hold it up to scan… you got it! See. It’s totally easy.”

“Oh. Okay,” Beca nods. “Cool.” She pulls a few bucks out of her wallet and drops it in the tip jar. “Thanks.”

“Thank you , actually. And…” Emily leans closer, a conspiratorial smile gracing her pretty face. “I know I’m your favorite, but don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” She gives Beca a wink and Beca feels warmth rush from the top of her head down to her toes.

“Uhhhh.”

Emily laughs. “Well, see you tomorr -- oh no, wait. I’m off tomorrow. Okay, well see you the day after tomorrow then!”

Beca grabs her drink, nodding numbly. “Yeah. Yep. See you then. Enjoy your day off.”

“Bye, Beca!”

“Have a good day, Beca!”

“See you later, Beca!”

Beca leaves with her coffee in hand and very red cheeks.

//

She knows Emily was joking, of course, but if she’s really being pressed to pick a favorite barista at this particular Starbucks, the choice is clear. 

Her favorite is definitely not the manager, Aubrey, whose brand of ovverzealous friendliness often can feel like she learned it, not in the Starbucks handbook, but in some form of military basic training.

Of course there’s Stacie, who may not be Beca’s all-time favorite of the baristas, but whose form of customer connection includes an overt flirtation that makes Beca turn bizarrely embarrassed and pleasantly red for the five minutes she’s in the store. 

And she does have a soft spot for Chloe, who somehow makes her drink taste better than all the other baristas despite confiding in Beca that there’s a very specific formula they follow for the drinks. But sometimes when Beca comes at the tail-end of the morning rush, she can see all sorts of stress-induced anxiety in Chloe’s too-wide smile that has Beca grabbing her drink off the counter and getting the heck out of there with little more than a hello and goodbye.

There are others, too, but they’re not even on Beca’s radar.

Just Emily. 

Emily, who is kind and playful and dorky. Emily, whose smile widens, without fail, whenever Beca steps up to greet her at the register. Emily, whose energy and personality follow Beca into the rest of her day. 

Emily, whose earnest brown eyes make her heart flutter and her stomach flip and her mouth dry.

So, if she were being pressed, maybe she knows who her favorite barista is.

It’s not like it matters, though. It’s five minutes of her day. 

Sometimes, though, it really is the best five minutes.

//

“Okay, you can scan whenever you’re ready.” Beca scans her phone and pockets it. “Oooh, Beca, you almost have enough stars to get a free dri--” Beca’s digging in her wallet for a few singles to tip when Emily stops mid-sentence and gasps, an inhalation so high-pitched and long that Beca swears, for a second, it’s coming from the espresso machine. “Oh my God! It’s your birthday!”

Beca blinks, before whipping out her phone and frowning at it. “It says that?”

“Beca! It’s on your profile. You have a birthday reward! Unless my screen is lying.”

Beca shakes her head slightly. “Um, no. That’s right. I just didn’t realize it would tell you if I didn’t… say anything.”

Emily’s beaming down at her. “Oh my God, well you should’ve. Free drink!”

“Yeah. Yeah, cool.”

Emily pouts at her. “Do you not want your free drink?”

“No, I do.” Beca gives her a small smile. “I just kinda have a thing about… privacy.”

“Oh, okay. Is it okay?”

“Yeah,” Beca nods reassuringly. “It’s fine.”

Emily taps on her screen, then leans closer, her fingers curling over the top of the register. “Well. Happy Birthday, Beca!” Then Emily’s mouth falls open. “Hey! Your birthday is the first day of Fall! Wow, that’s fun!”

Beca chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so. Now I don’t have to feel guilty for drinking pumpkin cold brew before it’s Fall, I guess.”

Emily scoffs playfully. “Beca… the pumpkin is irresistible. You never have to feel guilty about enjoying things. That’s just a waste of negative energy. Plus, before you know it, we’ll have the holiday stuff out and you’ll be groaning about that. Better enjoy the pumpkin while it’s still here.”

Beca rolls her eyes, but she’s kind of lost in the easy way Emily’s smiling at her. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I guess you’re right.” She finally drops her dollars in the tip jar. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Emily shrugs happily. “And Happy Birthday, again. I hope it’s great.”

“Well, I saw you and I get my coffee, so it’s off to a good start,” Beca’s mouth says before her brain can filter it. She freezes in horror at herself, but Emily just laughs.

“Truth.”

They stare at each other for a moment and Beca has to wonder if it’s genuine or if it’s some of that prolonged eye contact witchcraft she’s heard so much about.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BECA!”

Beca whips her head toward the handoff counter, where Chloe is beaming at her and holding her cold brew. Emily gives her an apologetic look. “It prints out on the sticker that it’s your birthday.”

Beca laughs in disbelief. “This company thinks of everything, huh?”

Emily gives her a look. “They really do.”

//

Beca has decided, for once, to sit in the cafe and get caught up on some emails.

She thought this was a good idea, that she might actually get work done if she’s not at home being tempted by distraction.

It was a good theory, Beca thinks, as she sits at a high top and sips at her cold brew, it’s just bad in practice.

Turns out, Starbucks is full of tempting distractions.

Or… at least one tempting distraction.

“You want the pink one? That one is my favorite!” 

One tempting distraction in the form of Beca’s favorite barista leaning across the counter to interact with a very shy child being forced to order by her over-enthusiastic father.

“Is pink your favorite color?” Emily asks the girl, who must be six or so. She can barely see over the counter. Her dad is looking on proudly, but the girl shyly shakes her head. Emily pouts, letting out a thoughtful hum. “No? Okay, is it blue?” The girl nods. “Mine, too!” Emily gushes. “Blue is so pretty. I’m Emily. What’s your name?”

The dad nudges the girl softly. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Michelle,” says the girl in a tiny voice. 

As Beca watches out of the corner of her eye (she can still pretend to be doing work, can’t she?) Emily holds up the stand with the cake pops on it. “Okay, Michelle, so here’s what I have for you. There’s the pink, which is vanilla and so yummy. The dark brown is chocolate, the light brown is cookie, and right now, we have this awesome one that’s shaped like a fox! Isn’t he cute?”

The girl nods and Emily beams. 

“You wanna try the fox? It’s just like the pink one on the inside, but he’s so awesome! Yeah? Okay great! He’s my fave for sure. You’re gonna love it.”

She uses the tongs to grab the fox and put it in a brown bag, which she passes over to the father, who hands it to the girl with a smile. 

He laughs good-naturedly as he orders a coffee and pays. The girl tentatively pulls the fox out of the bag and takes a big bite. Her eyes widen dramatically and Beca can’t help it, she chuckles.

When she looks back at Emily, Emily’s staring right at her.

She blushes and hides behind her laptop again.

“Isn’t he yummy?” She hears Emily’s voice and tentatively peeks her head out again. “Enjoy that, okay? It was really nice meeting you, Michelle!”

“Say bye!” Says the dad, waving at Emily.

The girl waves. “Bye,” she mumbles around a bite of cake pop.

The two exit the store hand-in-hand. Beca smiles to herself and goes back to her email.

She’s zoning out at her screen and not getting any work done a few minutes later when the chair across from her is pulled out. She jumps, but it’s just Emily climbing on the stool. She slumps over, chin in her hand, and lifts an eyebrow in Beca’s direction. “So? How’s the work coming?”

“Good,” Beca lies, but Emily must see right through her because she laughs. 

“I brought you something,” Emily says, and that’s when Beca sees a brown bag in Emily’s hand. She slides it across the table. “I accidentally touched it, so I can’t sell it. And I really shouldn’t give it to you, but,” Emily shrugs. “We’re just gonna throw it out and it was just my thumb and it’s clean, I swear.”

Beca pulls out a fox cake pop. “Oh,” she says. She has literally never had a cake pop. Aren’t they for kids? She hesitates, hoping she’s not crossing a line, but then she thinks fuck it , and -- “Ohhh, isn’t he just sooooo cute, Emilyyyy. He’s soooo yummy. No wonder he’s your faaaavorite.”

Emily’s mouth falls open. “Oh my God, that was an adorable, shy child, Beca. Don’t be rude.”

“He’s just soooooooo awesome.”

“Shut up,” Emily laughs. She flicks Beca on the wrist. “That’s the last time I come bearing gifts. See if you’re still my favorite customer after this.”

“Ah. So I am your favorite. Don’t worry,” she jokes, “I won’t tell the others.”

Emily purses her lips around a smile. “Ha. Ha. Well. Good luck with that work, if you can find a minute to get any of it done between spying and eavesdropping on me, and enjoy your cake pop, unless you’re too cool to eat his cute little face.”

Then she slides off the chair and, with a last teasing smile in Beca’s direction, heads back around the counter.

Beca examines the cake pop. It is, she begrudgingly admits, pretty cute. She takes a tentative bite. Oh. Oh dang. That shit is good…

When she looks back up, Emily is giving her an I-told-you-so smile so big from behind the counter, that Beca almost chokes.

//

“Hm, should I get a frap or a latte, I can’t decide,” Jesse says from behind her. 

“I don’t care.”

“I’m gonna get a pumpkin spice latte,” Benji interjects. “Have you tried it, babe?”

Jesse says something in return, but Beca tunes them out as they wait in line. If it were up to her, she would not be in this Starbucks right now. Not with her two best friends in tow, anyway. This is her Starbucks. 

But ugh, what was she supposed to say when they were grocery shopping next door and Jesse suggested they get coffee? Um, no, Jess, that’s my Starbucks and I don’t want you ruining it so fuck off

Yeah, that would’ve made it worse.

The most she can hope for is the quickest interaction she’s ever had here with little to no recognition.

Unfortunately for her, the baristas are too friendly for their own good.

“Hi, Beca! Weird seeing you on a Sunday.”

Beca purses her lips. She can practically feel Jesse and Benji become hyper-focused behind her. 

“Hi, Emily. Um. Yeah. Just… doing some shopping.”

“Becaw!” Jesse slides up next to her at the register. “They know you here?”

Emily smiles happily. “Beca is a regular. We love her.”

Benji pops up on her other side. “That’s awesome! I’ve always wanted to be a regular somewhere. Do you know her order?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily nods. “One grande pumpkin cream cold brew for Beca. And what can I get for… friends of Beca?”

“I’m Jesse and this is Benji,” Jesse says. “And wow , Bec, you drink pumpkin? I mean, Benj and I are basic as hell, but you? This is completely new information.”

Beca grits her teeth. “It tastes good, fucking bite me.”

“Beca!” Benji playfully gasps. “There are families in here.”

Beca sighs, pinching her nose. “Can you people please just order?”

“I’m gonna go with a venti pumpkin frap,” Jesse orders.

“And I’m gonna have a grande pumpkin spice latte,” Benji says. Then he gasps, pointing at Emily’s PRIDE ALLIANCE pin. “Oh my God, I love your pin. We love your pin. We were all in our school’s LGBT society in college. So fun.”

Emily beams at them. “Really? Me, too.” 

“Yeah, but Beca’s stupid ex-girlfriend kind of commandeered the whole thing and made it totally lame,” Jesse rolls his eyes. “It was good while it lasted though.”

The best Beca could’ve hoped for was a short interaction, but sure, why not tell their whole life stories while we’re at it. It’s not like there’s a fucking line! 

Emily gives her a searching look. Beca’s gritting her teeth and trying, by force of will, to get her cheeks to deflame. 

“Well,” says Emily eventually, “that’s gonna be $16.97.”

Beca scans her phone as quickly as possible. She pulls her wallet out to tip, sees she only has a ten, thinks about asking Emily to break it, realizes standing at the counter with her clown best friends for even another second isn’t worth it, and just drops the entire ten in the tip jar.

“Whoa,” Jesse whistles. “Big tipper, Beca.”

Beca grunts in annoyance, but Emily shoots her a smile so endearing it morphs into a defeated sigh. 

“Beca always tips,” Emily says, and Beca swears there’s pride in her voice. “Anyway, Stacie and Chloe will have your drinks at the end. Nice meeting you guys! Bye, Bec.”

Beca can’t bring herself to say anything so she just waves weakly.

When they finally have their drinks and push out the door, Jesse turns on her. “Okay, so, spill.”

Beca frowns. “Spill what?”

“Um,” Benji laughs. “What’s with that girl?”

“What girl?”

“The barista?”

Beca blinks. “Who, Emily?”

Jesse lets out a loud laugh. “Oooooooh, Emily.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re like twelve and I hate you.”

“Don’t deflect! You have a giant gay crush on the barista!”

Beca stops. Like literally in her tracks. She just fucking stops walking. “Excuse me?”

“More to the point, I think,” says Benji, “is that the barista has a giant gay crush on you.”

Beca probably looks like she’s asphyxiating because her mouth keeps opening and closing and she’s clenched her eyes shut.

When she finally opens them, Jesse slings his arm around her shoulder and pushes her forward. “I think it’s awesome. Does she know you're famous?”

“There’s… It’s… no…. hhh,” Beca stammers. “No, I don’t think she knows. And there’s nothing awesome because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Benji hums and bumps their hips together. “Unfortunately, we do, because we’ve seen you when you have a crush on girls. And on Jesse.”

“Trueee.” Jesse nods. 

Beca grunts again.

“And,” Benji continues, “that girl looked at you like you put the caffeine in every espresso shot she took that morning.”

“Egh,” Beca grimaces. “Bad simile. Bad.”

Benji shrugs. “Jesse looks at me like that every day. I’m sort of an expert.”

“My boy makes points,” Jesse agrees. “He’s the smart one.”

“You’re sweet,” Benji grins. Then he turns back to Beca. “Don’t worry, it’s cute! And you have nothing to worry about. It’s just a crush, right? You totally don’t have to see her outside of Starbucks if you never want to.”

That, Beca thinks when they’re finally in the car and her dumb friends have moved on to a new topic, is a relief.

//

The night is crisp and Beca’s wishing she had a hot chocolate in her hands to keep them warm. She shoves one in her pocket instead, the other loosely holding her flashlight as she slouches down the worn path, crunching over leaves and dead corn stalks.

She turns left, annoyed when she hits a dead-end she definitely has already been before. 

“Fuck,” she hisses.

She spins around, intent on retracing her steps, and --

“Oof.”

-- runs right into someone.

“Shoot,” the person says. “Sorry.”

She frowns, looks up at the person, and almost drops her flashlight.

“Beca?”

Beca gapes, all air rushing from her lungs. Because here, in this random ass corn maze an hour from their fucking Starbucks, is her favorite barista who she may or may not have a crush on.

“Uhhh,” is the only thing that comes out, because Emily does not look like Emily. Or, Emily as Beca knows her anyway. This Emily is severely lacking in a black hat, a green apron, and a ponytail. This Emily, in fact, is in tight, ripped jeans, a hoodie, a soft looking scarf, and her hair -- God her hair -- is the waviest, prettiest hair Beca has ever seen probably. 

“Sorry,” Emily says, visibly cringing. “Um, you probably don’t --”

“Emily?”

“Oh.” Emily laughs, a look of relief washing over her face. “I thought you might not recognize me, but I recognized you, and then I was like, wow this is awkward, she has no idea who I am.”

Beca vehemently shakes her head. “No, I recognized you. It was just a shock to see you somewhere else. You look really pretty -- uh really pretty great without the apron. I mean, you look pretty great without the apron! I definitely recognized you. Definitely.” 

(Can she just die now please?)

Emily tilts her head to the side, a small smile playing at her lips. “Well, that’s a relief.” She looks behind Beca questioningly. “Are you here with people?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, kinda.” Beca rolls her eyes. “My friends, the ones you met the other day, we have this tradition to see who can finish the maze first and the loser buys everyone dinner. So. I’m alone, but I’m not like, alone alone.”

“Gotcha.”

“What about you?”

Emily grabs at her neck sheepishly. “Um, no, yeah I kinda got separated from the girls and now I’m a bit lost and my phone is dead, so you know. I’m not alone, but I’m… alone.”

Beca laughs. “Oh no.” She hesitates, nervous, but thinks fuck it (does Emily make her think that a lot? she suddenly wonders), “Do you wanna team up and get out of here?”

Emily’s smile, so wide and pretty, makes Beca’s body begin to defrost a little. “I would love that, actually.”

“Cool.” Beca holds the flashlight up so the beam is in front of them. “Lead the way.”

//

“... and then he said ‘how could you not know me? That’s my song on your store music.’ And Stacie said ‘Yeah, but we usually change the playlist when annoying songs come on.’ And he smashed his latte down on the ground and stormed out. I thought Stacie was gonna get fired, no joke.”

Beca laughs. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah. So that’s the worst celebrity experience we’ve ever had. The second worst was once when Carrie Underwood came in and Chloe literally shrieked out loud. She turned so red she had to run to the back and I thought she was going to faint.”

Beca shakes her head, grinning. “That’s crazy. Okay, wait so then what’s the best celebrity experience you’ve ever had.”

Emily looks over at her, a soft smile playing at her lips. She bumps Beca with her elbow. “You, obviously.”

Beca slows her pace, nearly stopping, but Emily’s still going so she picks it up again. “You… knew who I was?”

“Honestly? No.” Emily grins over at her. “I didn’t, but Stacie did. I looked up your songs, though. They’re really good.”

Beca’s silent for a minute. She had thought her Starbucks was a safe haven where nobody knew she was even minorly famous. But maybe they knew this whole time. 

“Sorry,” Emily says eventually. “If you didn’t want me to bring it up…”

“No,” Beca frowns, but she’s not unhappy. She’s just… she doesn’t know what she is. “No, it’s fine. Usually people just treat me differently when they find out. But…”

Emily hums. “I mean, this is LA. Celebrities aren’t exactly uncommon. I met Carrie Underwood,” she laughs. “Anyway, I guess it’s easy. You really don’t act like most of them.”

“No?”

“Beca, they’re rich as hell and they never tip. You know who I’ve served, like, ten times and he’s never tipped? Leonardo DiCaprio. And! Oh my God. Pierce Brosnan.”

Beca scrunches her nose. “Who?”

“You know, like, Mamma Mia… James Bond…” When Beca says nothing, Emily rolls her eyes. “A really famous guy! Ellen Degeneres once had like twelve modifications to her order and Chloe had to remake her drink like three times because she said it wasn’t right even though it was. Ugh. Trust me. You aren’t like them. You’re cool.”

“Thanks… I guess?” 

Emily laughs. “It’s a compliment and you’re welcome.”

They keep walking, Beca letting Emily lead her through the twists and turns of the maze. She isn’t really in any hurry, despite her bet with Jesse and Benji. She’s enjoying the night and Emily’s company.

“Can I ask you a question?” Beca says after a bit.

“Yeah, anything,” Emily says easily. Beca’s cheeks burn against the cold.

“Why don’t you ever, like, make the drinks. You’re always on register.”

Emily gives her a surprised look, like she wasn’t expecting that. “Oh,” she chuckles. “I’m kind of messy.”

“Messy?”

“Yeah, like, if there are just one or two drinks, I’m fine, but as soon as we start to get busy, it’s pretty likely I’m gonna spill a whole bunch of drinks or accidentally explode a frap or just… I’m messy. And clumsy.” Beca hums and Emily continues. “Plus, I’m the best at register. Chloe sometimes passive aggressively judges people’s orders to their faces and Stacie gets hit on so much that it’s unbearable. I guess I’m more patient. The customers don’t really bother me that much.”

“I see.”

Emily nods. “It’s kinda just better for everyone all-around.” Beca makes a noise of acknowledgement and Emily smiles knowingly at her. “If I wasn’t on register, though, I’d still talk to you, don’t worry.”

“Oh, well,” Beca snorts. “Thank God or I’d have to choose a new Starbucks.”

“I know I’m your favorite.” Emily reaches out to squeeze Beca’s elbow. “And you’re mine, so. Win-win.”

Beca probably would’ve thought of something smart and clever and flirty to say back to that (really… she would’ve) if Emily hadn’t gasped at that second. Beca snaps her head to see where Emily’s pointing.

Ahead of them, like a beacon of light in the darkness, the end of the maze.

“Hey, we did it!” Emily beams at her and drags her by the elbow out of the maze.

Beca immediately sees Benji and Jesse waiting for her, sitting at a picnic table and sharing a bag of roasted cinnamon nuts. They stand up from the picnic table and wave.

“Becaw!” Jesse yells and Beca resists the urge to face-palm.

“Emily! There you are!”

Then suddenly she’s surrounded.

“Beca? Oh my God.”

“Hey! It’s Beca!”

“Hi, Beca!”

Beca blushes under the gaze of four collective baristas. “Uh, hey. Weird seeing you guys here?”

“Emily, what even happened to you?” Aubrey frowns at them and Emily pouts.

“My phone died and we were separated. Luckily I ran into Beca and we did the maze together.”

Stacie, looking very gorgeous but absurdly cold in a dress, quirks an eyebrow. “That’s convenient.”

Emily shares a look with her that Beca can’t make heads or tails of. “I know, right?”

“Well, we’re just so happy you made it out!” Chloe gushes. “We’ve been waiting. It’s time to get going or we will get absolutely no sleep before open tomorrow.”

“Yeah, of course.” Emily turns to Beca, giving her elbow a squeeze one last time before finally letting go. “Well, it was really nice running into you, Bec. Thanks for doing the maze with me.”

Beca nods, trying to tamp down the weird way her stomach’s buzzing. “Yeah, dude. Anytime.”

She takes her cue to leave, waving at the barista crew and walking toward her friends. She tries to keep her face as neutral as possible as she approaches.

“Who was that?” Benji asks as she gets closer.

“Um, nobody,” Beca says. “Just… Emily.”

Benji gives her a quizzical look but Jesse gasps. “That barista ?!”

Beca grunts.

“Weird,” Benji says. “Did you just run into her?”

“Yeah. Pretty random, huh?”

“Yoooooo,” Jesse says, his grin growing wider by the second. “This… is just like the movies.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “No it isn’t.”

“You wouldn’t know, you don’t watch movies.”

“Fuck off.”

Jesse wraps Beca up in a hug that completely discombobulates her. “Ahhh. I’m so happy this is happening! You are the perfect person for this to happen to.”

“No, I’m not,” Beca grumbles, trying to blow a strand of her own hair out of her mouth without the use of her arms. “Let me go.”

He releases her, but keeps his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, you are.”

“You kind of are,” Benji agrees.

“How?”

“Because,” Jesse explains. “You’re like this public-ish figure and nobody understands you, but you’re always getting recognized and it’s made you extremely jaded. Enter: a cute and smiley barista who has absolutely no idea who you are and yet, is completely smitten with you. The setting: a beautiful LA autumn. As the air cools, our reluctant hero’s heart warms. As the leaves fall, so does one Beca Mitchell.”

Beca stares at him for a long moment. Then she says, “You’re stupid.”

“Art reflects reality, baby, that’s just facts!”

Beca turns to Benji. “I don’t know how you do this every day. I really don’t.”

Benji laughs. “Love?”

“Ew.”

“Speaking of,” Jesse continues, as if he’d never been insulted or interrupted. “You should invite her to the movie night!”

Beca freezes. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Why the fuck would I?”

“Because you hate movies and this at least would make it interesting for you.”

Beca shakes her head. “No. No. If I was trying to impress a girl -- which I’m not -- (“sure,” Benji coughs), I wouldn’t willingly bring her to a movie night with you in a hundred years.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jesse agrees. “So just remind her it starts at eight and pajamas are mandatory, okay?”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah yeah. You also, by the way, owe us dinner, and we’re starving so. Let’s blow this popsicle stand. I’m thinking burgers.”

Beca groans.

Her friends are so annoying.

//

Beca’s not exactly disappointed when she walks into Starbucks on Monday and sees that Emily isn’t there. Disappointed is a strong word. Disheartened is probably better. Disheartened and maybe a little dejected.

Ew. God, what is with her?

She orders her drink and heads down to the end to wait for it, but there’s a little bit of a line, so she looks to see if there’s any tables she can chill at while she waits.

They’re all full, but as her eyes travel back across the taken chairs, she does a double take.

Emily is here. She’s just… out of uniform. She’s in leggings and an oversized hoodie, the sleeves pulled over her palms as she leans her chin in them while she stares at the laptop in front of her. Her hair is in a high ponytail and she’s got earbuds in.

She’s cute, Beca thinks. Unreally cute. And clearly busy. Beca should leave her alone. 

Really, she thinks, her feet leading her over to the table. She should leave Emily alone.

“Hey, Emily.”

Emily looks up, surprised, but then her face breaks into a wide smile. She pops one of her headphones out. “Beca! Hey.”

“Hey,” Beca repeats. “Is it… your day off?”

“Uh.” Emily shrugs. “Sort of. It’s my day off of work, but I have a giant midterm paper this week. Sometimes it’s easier to get work done here than at home.”

Beca blinks. “Midterm? You’re still in school?”

“Master’s,” Emily explains. “In Psych.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. That’s awesome.” Beca frowns. “Dang, you do that and work here? That’s a lot, dude. Like… a lot.”

Emily shrugs dismissively. “Eh. I’ve worked here since high school. It’s some extra cash and I’m used to it. My schedule works with it anyway. It’s no big deal.”

“Wow,” Beca says. “I’m impressed. That’s really cool.”

Emily gives her a soft smile, glancing away and scratching her nose. “You think? Thanks.” She looks back at Beca, her cheeks pink. “Hey, um, so I know I had to run pretty quick the other night, but I just wanted to say I was really happy I ran into you. I had a really good time.”

“Oh,” Beca says. Her chest feels warm. “Yeah, me, too actually. It was literally the best case scenario for me. Well,” Beca rolls her eyes. “Second best. First best would’ve been if I’d beat those dumb dudes and they bought me dinner, but. Still.”

Emily laughs. “There’s always next year. You said it was tradition, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca agrees. “That’s true.” There’s a long pause where they stare at each other and Beca wrestles with her pride and with Jesse’s voice in her head and with her last shred of dignity. Then she thinks, fuck it . “You know, actually, we have this other tradition we always do. It’s kind of dumb, but, like, we get together and watch a really stupid, cheesy, badly-made horror movie. And uh, it’s always the guys and just me, and I kinda hate movies, but like, maybe if I had someone else it wouldn’t be so bad, so like Friday if you’re free or whatever, maybe you’d wanna come and that’d be cool, so.”

Beca snaps her mouth shut post-ramble, both embarrassed at this word vomit and with the action of asking itself. 

Emily, however, tilts her head to the side cutely, the beginnings of a smile in the corners of her mouth. “You’re inviting me?”

It takes Beca a full second to grunt the word out. “Yeah.” She gasps in a quick breath. “If you want to.”

“I’d love to.” Emily’s giving her this look , like Beca’s so cute and so nice and so endearing. Beca can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

She nods. She nods a lot. “Cool,” she manages to say. “Um, yeah. Awesome. So it’s Friday and it’s at eight, but I could pick you up on my way if you want and uh, right, I’m supposed to tell you pajamas are mandatory but if you aren’t comfortable with pajamas it totally does not matter, like, at all.”

Emily laughs. “I love pajamas.”

“Yeah, they’re… comfy.”

Emily bites her lip around another smile. “Here, put your number in and I’ll text you my address. A ride sounds great.”

Beca nods some more. Numbly types in her contact information into Emily’s phone. 

“So, I’ll see you Friday?” She asks.

“Yeah. And probably tomorrow,” Emily chuckles. “I’ll be here.”

“Right,” Beca says. “Yeah, of course. So I’ll see you… tomorrow.”

Emily gives her a soft look. “Yeah, see you then. By the way, they called your drink a few times, but, uh, I didn’t wanna interrupt. It’s ready, though.”

Beca looks over her shoulder and, ah, yes, her drink is on the hand-off counter. 

“Yeah, word. Thanks. See you later, have a good day.”

“You, too.”

Beca has never grabbed her drink and walked from an establishment so fucking fast in her life.

//

So Friday comes, and Beca walks up to the register, ready to order, when Emily says to her, “Hey, Beca.”

This is obviously pretty typical and the situation and the words aren’t something out of the ordinary, but the way Emily says it has Beca completely stopping in her tracks.

Normally Emily is peppy and Emily is enthusiastic and Emily is exuberant to the point of ridiculousness. 

But Emily, this time, says, “Hey, Beca,” and it’s small and shy and soft . So soft. She’s giving Beca this bashful smile, her fingers restlessly drumming on the screen in front of her. 

Beca, without being able to help it, melts into a big, gay puddle. Complete with red cheeks.

“Hey. Hi. Emily. Uhhh. Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah. Hi.”

“Good morning.”

“Yeah. Good morning. It is a good morning, isn’t it?”

Emily’s smile grows. “It’s a good day. A great day.”

“It’s Friday,” Beca agrees.

“Yes! Friday is the best.”

They stare at each other until Stacie clears her throat from her place behind the espresso machine. “Um, ‘kay, hello,” she says with a pointed look at Beca. “Are you getting your usual, Beca?”

“Oh. Yeah. Yes, I am.”

“Right,” Emily nods. She taps the screen and Beca scans her phone. It’s a good thing there’s nobody behind her in line.

Stacie’s a blur of motion behind the counter, but she turns her head to look at Beca with a dangerous grin. “So, Beca, big plans tonight?”

“Uhhh.” Beca glances to Emily, who has suddenly turned very red. “Just, um, a movie night thing.”

“Ohhhhh,” Stacie coos. “That’s right! I’d forgotten, since Emily hasn’t mentioned it in the last five or six seconds. She’s going to your place right?”

Emily lets out an audible exhale. “Stacie,” she says weakly.

Beca laughs. “It’s at my friend’s place, but I guess that’s the plan.”

“Cool, cool.” Stacie plops her drink down on the counter. “Well, I’m sure it will be fun because Emily’s only talked about it once an hour for the entire week. You must really have been building up the anticipation, huh?”

Beca glances at Emily, whose cheeks resemble the color of a fire truck. She looks like she’d be grateful to crawl in a hole and die. 

“Help,” she mouths and Beca’s heart flutters.

“Well, it is pretty epic,” Beca says. “I’ve been talking it up to her so now I’m nervous it will disappoint. Everyone knows I just… you know, really, um, love movies.” She cringes at how unconvincing she sounds.

“Huh,” Stacie hums. She peers at Beca. “So it’s not Emily here just gushing about nothing then? It’s like a thing .”

“Mhmm,” Beca nods. “Oh yeah, totally a thing. A big thing. A huge thing.”

Stacie clearly doesn’t believe her because she smirks. “Right. Well. Enjoy the cold brew. And have a fun date.”

“Stacie,” Emily squeaks. “It’s at her friend’s house, she said! It’s a group thing.”

“Sorry,” Stacie rolls her eyes, moving back to the espresso machine and out of earshot. “Have a fun group date, then.”

Emily shoots Beca a horrified look. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, covering her face with her hand. “I never said the word ‘date’ to her, she basically just lives to mortify me.”

“It’s fine,” Beca says, but what she really means is, it’s fine if you want it to be a date. Do you want it to be a date? Please go on a date with me .

“Seriously, I’m so sorry. In fact,” Emily taps on the screen a few times. “Your drink is totally free today and please ignore that this happened and hopefully you’re not regretting inviting me based on this extremely embarrassing interaction.”

Beca laughs. “I’m kind of the opposite of regretting it.”

Emily lets out an embarrassed chuckle, her palm still covering half her face. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Beca bites back another smile. “Okay, well. I will see you tonight for the totally epic, huge movie night. Just text your address and I’ll see you at like, 7:30ish.”

“Okay,” Emily nods, finally bringing her hand away from her face. “I really am excited.”

“Eh.” Beca leans in so she can speak under her breath. “Lower your expectations.”

Emily chuckles. “No.”

“Fine.”

“Well,” Emily says, her voice settling back into her exuberant customer service tone. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Beca! I’ll be seeing you.”

“Yeah, she’ll be seeing you!” Stacie calls from the bar.

Emily visibly cringes, but Chloe comes to her rescue with a laugh. “Leave her alone, Stace.”

“Once again,” Emily whispers. “I am so very sorry. Okay! Bye!”

“Bye,” Beca waves.

And if she leaves the store with a spring in her step, then it’s nobody’s business but her own.

//

She picks Emily up around 7:30, pulling up outside a small house in a cute neighborhood. Most of the houses are decorated for Halloween, including the one she’s idling her car outside of. There’s a skeleton in the front lawn with a sign that says, “Wanna bone?”

Beca’s kind of gawking at it, trying to decide if it’s an innocent mistake or a horrible innuendo, when Emily gets in the car.

“Hey,” Emily says, and Beca tears her eyes from the skeleton.

“Hey,” Beca says back, then laughs. “Cute pajama pants.”

“They’re ghosts,” Emily hums happily. “Thought they’d be fit for the occasion. You look comfy.”

Beca makes a noise in agreement. She’s in a plain t-shirt and black sweatpants. Not exactly festive, but in accordance with Jesse’s rule.

She points to the skeleton. “So, uh, your skeleton…”

Emily rolls her eyes. “It was Stacie and yes, it was intentional.”

“Ah.” Beca laughs. “You live with Stacie?”

“And with Chloe,” Emily nods. 

Beca puts the car in gear and starts driving to Jesse and Benji’s place. “Oh, that’s convenient, I guess.”

“I guess,” Emily laughs. “When I first started working with them I was seventeen, and they were both in college, and somehow all these years later we’re all still doing this. They’re my best friends, but they’re also kinda like my older sisters, so. Sometimes it’s nice living with them and other times it’s… embarrassing.”

Beca thinks back to Stacie’s teasing that morning. “I’m sure it’s out of love.”

“That doesn’t make it not embarrassing.”

Beca laughs at that. “Okay, fair.”

“So,” Emily says, “What are we watching tonight?”

Beca grunts. “I have no idea. Jesse picks them and I don’t ask because I do not care.” She glances at Emily. “Really, when I said lower your expectations, I almost meant it. The movies he picks are bad. I mean, on purpose. But still.”

“Right, you said you don’t really like movies.”

“Not that much.”

“Huh.” Emily pulls the sleeves of her zip up hoodie down over her wrists, tugging absentmindedly. “So why the tradition?”

Beca shrugs. “We've just always done it since college. Jesse’s a movie guy. He scores movies.”

“That’s cool.” Emily gives her a soft smile. “Well, it’s nice that you guys still do all this stuff even years later.”

Beca hesitates, then says, “Yeah, honestly I think it’s because they feel bad.”

“Oh, why?”

“Eh,” Beca says. “They kinda got together our senior year and I think they feel guilty for suddenly making me the constant third wheel.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Beca taps the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I mean, it’s fine. They were annoying before and they’re annoying now. But they’re my friends, so.” She shrugs.

Emily hums. “Yeah. If they still do all this stuff, I’m sure they’re glad you still hangout with them.”

“Yeah,” Beca agrees. “I think so.”

“Well,” Emily says. “Thanks for inviting me. I mean, I had fun with you at the corn maze and your friends seem nice, so.” 

“Well, thanks for coming,” Beca volleys back. “I hope it’s not too lame.”

“It couldn’t be too lame,” Emily smiles, reaching over to squeeze Beca’s hand over the gear shift, just once before retreating to her lap. “I’ll be with you.”

An immeasurable happiness flushes through her at Emily’s words, her body warm from Emily’s touch.

She wonders, with a gentle fluttering of her heart, how Emily can say these kinds of things.

She hopes Emily doesn’t stop.

//

She’s been to Jesse and Benji’s house about a million times so she probably should’ve anticipated this, but it honestly never crossed her mind.

This being the four of them crammed onto the smallish couch with zero elbow room, resulting in, to Beca’s delight and horror, Emily pressed up right against her side.

Emily, leaning against the arm rest, politely tries to give Beca more room by putting her arm on the back of the couch, but it really makes no difference. Their legs are flush, their sides are pressed together. Beca can feel Emily’s hair tickle her cheek every so often.

And, to make it worse (or better? Beca’s still deciding), they're sharing a blanket. Beca’s blanket, which lives at Jesse’s house specifically for these movie nights. 

It’s intimate. It’s pushing up against some kind of line Beca’s not yet sure she and Emily are going to cross, even if she wants to.

So, an hour into the movie (something about some girl who finds a box with an evil demon who makes wishes come true but then people die or something?), Beca still hasn’t paid more than three minutes’ worth of attention at a time, because, one, movies. And two, Emily is as close as she could get without Beca sitting in her lap (does Beca want to sit in her lap? Again, she’s still deciding.).

The good thing is, though, Emily doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, either. She’s been very slowly making her way through three mini-packs of Skittles, sharing them with Beca as she goes. She pours two of them in her hand and offers them to Beca, palm up, taking whichever one Beca doesn’t choose.

And Beca could’ve gotten her own Skittles or any other candy because she actually is pretty ambivalent about Skittles, but every time Emily offers her hand, Beca finds herself reaching for another Skittle. 

She can feel Emily’s eyes on her in the semi-darkness of the room, and even as Benji and Jesse laugh at something on screen, Emily just gives her a happy smile, apparently content to sit here, pressed up against Beca’s side and matching her one-for-one through three packs of Skittles, all night long.

Beca thinks she might be happy to continue eating these Skittles all night long if Emily keeps looking at her like that.

//

At some point toward the end of the movie, Emily runs out of Skittles. 

She fidgets for a minute, her hand that’s not still on the back of the couch twitching restlessly under the blanket.

Then it nudges over Beca’s knee, her thigh. Brushes up against her hand. 

Beca twists their fingers together, her eyes refusing to leave the screen for the first time that night, her heart beating so loud it’s no wonder Benji, pressed up against her other side, can’t hear it over the TV.

//

They spend the ride home bashing the movie. Beca’s not sure if it was actually that bad or if they both maybe missed several key plot points due to being… distracted.

When Beca finally pulls up outside Emily’s house, she feels a pang of disappointment, but also happiness, because maybe it was the best one of these movie nights she’s had in a long time.

“Thanks again for coming,” Beca says as she puts the car in park. “I hope it lived up to your expectations.”

Emily unbuckles her seatbelt, but doesn’t move to get out of the car. She smiles over at Beca. “It did, actually. But I may just be on a sugar rush from all those Skittles.”

Beca grins. “Yeah, maybe.”

“So,” Emily says.

“So,” Beca says back.

Emily laughs. “Tomorrow night. Do you have plans?”

“Tomorrow? No… I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Emily looks surprised. “Because it’s Halloween.”

“Oh.” Beca hums. “Yeah, I guess it is. And I guess that makes me super lame.”

Emily’s smile is quick and bright. “Or it makes me super lucky. I think you should come over.”

Beca blinks. “Over. Like… here? To your place.”

“Yeah. I feel like I’ve done a few of your Fall traditions with you and now I think it’s time you do one of mine with me. Just to even it out a little.”

“Oh. I mean… that seems fair, I guess.” Beca tilts her head to the side. “I mean, you’re not doing it with your roommates?”

Emily lets out a disbelieving laugh. “No, they go out on Halloween. There’s happy hour at four, bar hopping until ten, and then a party somewhere probably. Halloween is like… well, once Stacie described it as ‘hooking up Christmas’, so. I probably won’t even see them until three in the afternoon the day after.”

“Wow.” Beca shakes her head in amusement. “And you aren’t going with them?”

“No. I mean, maybe I’m being presumptuous, but I hope I’m not… It’s just… they have their ways of shooting their shot and, uh,” Emily offers Beca a shy smile, “I have mine.”

Beca lets the implication of that wash over her. Her body flushes warm.

“Oh.” Beca’s entire train of thought goes !!!!!!!!!!!! , but she manages to keep it chill.  "I guess I’ll be here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Emily beams at her. “Cool.”

“Should I wear anything specific? These pajamas?”

Emily shakes her head with a laugh. “Pajamas are not mandatory, but comfort is encouraged.”

Beca chuckles. “Okay, then. I will be here. Just text me a good time to come over.”

“Great. Then I’m gonna get out of the car while I’m ahead here.” Emily smiles softly at her. “Thanks for inviting me. I really did have a good time.”

“Anytime,” Beca says.

Emily leans across the console and Beca’s heart stops, but her lips just land on Beca’s cheek. “Goodnight, Beca.”

“Goodnight, Em.”

When Emily gets out of the car, Beca is all too aware that the spot on her cheek where Emily kissed her burns warmer than the rest of her.

//

Beca pulls up to Emily’s at the same time as the pizza driver.

“Uh,” he says, staring at a receipt in his hand as Beca gets out of her car. “Emily?”

Beca smiles to herself. “Uh, yeah?”

“Cool, you’re all paid for.” He opens his pizza bag and slides a box out, depositing it in Beca’s arms.

Beca shifts it to one hand, using her other to pull out her wallet. She tips the guy and  thanks him, then heads up to the house. She rings the doorbell.

When the door swings open, Emily does a double take, mouth opening in surprise. She’s in jeans and a very soft-looking red sweater. Beca’s heart feels like goop in her chest.

“Huh.” Emily leans against the doorframe and raises a teasing eyebrow. “The app said the delivery guy was named Frank.”

“That’s my work alter ego,” Beca deadpans. 

Emily laughs. “Oh I see. Well, if you’ll hand over the pizza, Frank, I’m kind of waiting for a cute girl to come over.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Cheese.”

“No, it’s pepperoni.”

Beca lets out an exaggerated groan. “Ugh, no. I can’t take this, goodbye.”

Emily pouts. “No, okay, okay! I’m done! Come in.” She steps back and Beca enters the house with a chuckle. Emily takes the pizza from her hands. “Oh,” she murmurs. “Wait, I didn’t tip on the card!”

“I tipped him a twenty, it’s fine.” Emily stares at her, eyes soft. Then she laughs. Beca frowns. “What?”

“Nothing, just. This pizza didn’t even cost twenty dollars. You tipped him like 120 percent.”

“Oh.”

Emily grabs Beca by the hand with a grin and starts dragging her further into the house. “God, I like you so much.”

Beca’s cheeks burn with the ferocity of a thousand suns. 

Beca looks around as they enter the kitchen, noticing several things. First, there are green aprons everywhere, haphazardly thrown across the backs of chairs, hung on a hook near the entrance, rolled up in a ball on the counter. Second, plastic reusable Starbucks cups litter every surface, except the kitchen island, which is covered in trays and supplies. Third, the smell. It smells so good. Like freshly baked cookies.

Which like, yeah, Beca thinks as she steps closer. The trays on the island are covered in freshly baked cookies.

Beca migrates closer without thinking. “Wow. That’s a lot of cookies, dude.”

Emily’s busy getting plates out for the pizza, but she looks over her shoulder at Beca and hums. “Yeah, it’s my tradition. I bake things.”

Beca’s eyes rove over the cookies, amazed at the myriad of different shapes. Pumpkins, ghosts, cats, witch hats, and bats. She takes in the pastry bags full of different colored frostings.

“Are we decorating these?”

“Yes,” Emily beams, handing Beca a plate with a slice of pizza on it. “If you don’t mind.”

“No,” Beca says, thinking she wouldn’t mind pretty much anything if Emily was asking her to do it while smiling like that. “Sounds fun.”

“Great.” Emily looks toward the clock on the microwave. “They just need to cool like, two more minutes. But until then… pizza.”

Beca takes a bite of her slice, watching as Emily examines the cookies closer, touching her pinky finger to one. “So, you do this every year?”

“Mmm,” Emily nods. “Yeah pretty much. I started it with my mom in high school. We’d do this and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. I didn’t do it every year in college, but,” she shrugs. “I have the past few.”

“Cool.” 

“Yeah.” They look at each other, Emily’s smile wide and bashful. Then the doorbell rings and her eyes snap away. “Oh! Trick-or-treaters. Okay, well make yourself at home. Help yourself to something to drink, there’s juice and beer and water and whatever in the fridge.” She grabs a giant bowl of candy from the counter and goes to get the door.

Beca heads to the fridge and grabs a water. When the fridge door shuts, she stops, leaning closer. The door is covered with pictures, held up by latte-shaped magnets. The one that catches her eye makes her smile.

It was clearly taken several years ago, but the people are familiar. Emily, sandwiched between Chloe and Stacie. The two of them look slightly younger but not too much. Then there’s Emily, who looks near infancy basically, clearly still a teenager. They’re in their green aprons and Starbucks hats, smiling happily for the camera.

“My first summer,” Emily says from behind her. Beca looks over her shoulder and Emily nods her head toward the picture. “I was seventeen. I think Stacie was a Junior in college and Chloe was in her fifth or sixth year. I can’t remember. She took a few years to graduate because she kept changing her major.”

Beca looks back at the picture. “You look…”

“Twelve? Yeah, I know.”

Beca laughs. “I was gonna say young, but yeah.”

“It seems like a lifetime ago, but they won’t let the picture die. It’s their favorite one.” Emily rolls her eyes fondly. “Anyway. You wanna decorate?”

“Alright,” Beca says. “Gotta warn you though, I’m like, totally shit at this kinda stuff, dude.”

Emily looks up from where she’s arranging the decorating stuff. She grins. “Well, the good thing is they taste the same no matter how ugly they look.”

Beca snorts. “Wowwww. Okay, then.”

Emily laughs and slides a tray toward her. “No holding back.”

“Fine, let’s do this thing.”

They spend the next hour or so decorating and talking. Beca learns that Stacie’s taking a gap year before she starts her PhD and that Chloe’s in vet school. That Emily wants to be a school counselor, is an only child, and plays guitar in her free time but has no interest in pursuing music as a career, which leads to Beca telling Emily about how she started out working at her college’s radio station and then interning with a studio and how one thing led to another and here she is, unexpectedly famous.

“Well, you like it, though?” Emily asks as she runs the tip of the pastry bag against the edges of a cat cookie. “Like, you’re happy with what you’re doing?”

Beca hums, preoccupied with writing BOO on a ghost cookie with her frosting. “Yeah. Usually. Sometimes the famous part is more trouble than it’s worth, but,” Beca sighs, “the music part I love.”

“I looked it up,” Emily says and Beca glances up. Emily’s not looking at her, her focus on decorating. “Your music. After Stacie said you were like, famous, or whatever. I like that song ‘Missed Intentions’ a lot. I thought it was clever and the beat is super funky.”

“Yeah?” Beca chuckles. “That one was kinda controversial with the studio. They imagined it was going to be kind of slower and more emotional I guess, but,” she shrugs, “that’s not how I was vibing to it.”

Emily finally looks up at her, her lips twisting. “I like that your music is fun. I can dance to it. It’s like an instant mood-lifter.”

“You think?”

“Yeah,” Emily nods. “It’s fitting, though. You’re just like that.”

Beca pauses, her heart twisting around her ribcage. “Like what?”

“An instant mood-lifter.” Emily gives her a soft smile. “I feel like I’m always in a better mood after I see you. Even if it’s just for five minutes.”

A hot stone drops in Beca’s stomach and instantly spreads through her whole body. It takes her a moment to respond, and when she does, it’s quiet. “I’ve thought that about you, too. Sometimes it’s the best five minutes of my day.”

Emily maybe tries to say something, but all that comes out of her mouth is a soft, “Hhh. Hmm.” She puts the pastry bag down on the counter. Passes a hand over her face. Then she turns toward Beca, stepping closer. Beca’s heart does jumping jacks in her chest when Emily leans in, her hand gripping the counter in anticipation. It feels like an eternity, that long second between when their noses brush and when they kiss, and eventually Beca thinks fuck it and closes the gap herself.

Emily is warm, Beca thinks, before she thinks anything else. She’s warm and she’s soft and she smells like cookies and tastes like frosting. 

She’s sweet, in all senses of the word, and Beca’s whole body aches with the feeling. She exhales against Emily’s lips, trying to breathe. Without thinking, her hand releases its tight grip on the edge of the counter and slides up Emily’s arm, over her shoulder, behind her neck. She pulls Emily closer, getting lost in the warmth of Emily’s attention, in the easy way she kisses Beca, without rush or expectation.

She tilts her head, goes to deepen the kiss, when the doorbell rings.

Beca jumps, startled, and Emily freezes, her lips still brushing over Beca’s. She exhales, once, then laughs and leans back.

Beca immediately misses her warmth.

“Uh.” Emily’s cheeks are red, her smile shy and happy. “Okay, wait. Just… Just hold that thought.”

Beca wants to say something clever about if Emily really needs to answer the door for trick-or-treaters right now, but she’s speechless, her brain completely short-circuiting.

She can hear Emily at the door, cooing at some kid’s costume, and her heart is still going a mile a minute. Absentmindedly, for something to do with her hands, she picks up a cookie and takes a bite.

Hmm, she thinks. Pretty good.

She turns toward the doorway when Emily returns. Emily pauses when she sees Beca chewing and chuckles. “So did it taste good even if it was ugly.”

Beca swallows her bite with raised eyebrows. “What do you mean? It’s one of the ones you decorated.”

“Hey!” Emily gasps. She steps closer and flicks Beca in the arm. “Those are for Stacie and Chloe.”

Beca grunts. “I think you should give them mine and I should take yours.” She points to one of her own cookies, a pumpkin she tried to draw a jack-o-lantern face on that ended up just looking like a bunch of green blobs on an orange backdrop. “That’s totally the one for them.”

Emily blinks at her for a moment, then reaches for the cookie. To Beca’s amusement, she takes a bite. “Hm,” she hums, “I think the bad decorating somehow makes it taste better actually.”

“Yeah of course. They were made with love, obviously.”

Emily pauses in her chewing to shoot Beca an endeared look. “Stop.”

“Yeah, you’re right. The cheese is your thing.”

“I mean, it’s pretty cute when you do it.”

Beca scrunches her nose in disgust. “Ew.”

Emily laughs and reaches for Beca. She loops her arms around Beca’s waist and Beca’s whole body melts into the embrace. She has the urge to look away from Emily’s eyes, but can’t. They’re so brown and deep, soft and pretty. She can feel Emily’s affection deep in her chest.

“Is this too much?” Emily asks after a long moment.

Beca wants to say it’s not enough. Instead she says, “No. I just have one question.”

Emily’s expression turns apprehensive but she doesn’t pull away. “Okay?”

“Does this mean I can’t come to your Starbucks and I have to like, find a new one?”

Emily’s face opens in surprise and she grins. “No,” she says, and to Beca’s extreme pleasure, kisses her lightly on the lips. “Please don’t stop coming to mine.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees. “So, do you wanna like, hang out again later this week?”

“Yeah,” Emily nods, her breath warm on Beca’s skin. “Just not Thursday.”

“Okay. Why not Thursday?”

Emily hums, pressing their lips together again. Beca’s starting to feel mad spoiled. “I have to go in after the store closes and do the holiday turn.”

“The what?”

“Like, when we change the store from Fall to holiday stuff. The holiday one is super intense, literally everything gets changed. It’s gonna look like Santa threw up, basically.”

Beca, against her body’s wishes, pulls back. “Holiday. Like.... Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Emily says. “So fair warning, the pumpkin will go away soon, but I’ll get you hooked on something new. Oooh. Irish cream. That one is awesome, you’ll love it.” Beca gapes. Emily just laughs and brings their lips together again.

Beca leans into the kiss, her body warm, her heart fluttering with happiness, but she’s slightly distracted.

Christmas, she thinks, still tasting frosting from a pumpkin-shaped cookie on Emily’s tongue. 

It’s fucking October.

Notes:

thanks for reading please tip your baristas (and delivery drivers). hmu, emilyjunk.tumblr.com

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