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Chapter Text

"Now, I must go rest my neck; it is sore from looking down on you," Kommissar says mockingly, eyeing Beca with a smug, almost predatory smirk on her lips. Beca blanches at that, wracking her brain for an equally witty comeback to dish out.

"Okay, just because you are making me very sexually confused, does not mean that you are intimidating," Beca blurts out, closing her eyes in mortification as she smacks the palm of her hand against her forehead. That was the last thing she expected to come out of her mouth and, judging by the WTF expressions on her fellow teammates' faces, that was the last thing they expected to come out of her mouth, too.

A smug expression crosses Kommissar's face as she takes a step closer to Beca, leaning down so her mouth is level with the short brunette's ear. "Are you sure about that?" she whispers flirtatiously. Beca shudders as the taller woman's breath hits her ear, the woman's suggestive tone not lost on her.

"I-I, um—"Beca stutters out, her eyes connecting with the blonde's as the taller woman pulls away and straightens up her stance. The two's eyes never stray from one another's, not even as Kommissar's male counterpart, Pieter, taps her on the shoulder, and gestures her towards the stage where the rest of their group has migrated to.

"I'd love to continue this conversation, but I'm afraid I must go on stage and show you how a real A Capella group performs. Have fun watching from your stepping stool, hobbit," Kommissar mocks, flashing Beca a discrete wink before she follows Pieter on stage and breaks their eye contact. "Ta-ta, losers!" she calls over her shoulder.

Beca watches as the tall, beautiful, German woman saunters up to the stage—Pieter in tow—and gets into position for their performance. Beca is so transfixed by the lead of DSM when their performance starts, that she nearly jumps out of her skin when Chloe nudges her, breaking her attention away from the performance happening on stage. Beca glances at Chloe, noticing the pointed look on the ginger's face, and offers her fellow Bella her undivided attention.

"What?" Beca questions defensively, shrinking into herself when Chloe's glare intensifies.

"What the hell was that? She insulted us and you just complimented her….twice."

"I did not!"

"You told her she was physically flawless, and then you told her she was making you sexually confused; which means you find her insanely hot. You complimented our competition twice, Beca," Chloe points out, her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Beca scoffs at that, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, and focuses her attention back to the stage, watching as Kommissar struts around the stage effortlessly, her vocals never wavering as she keeps up with the extensive choreography. Her eyes watch the tall, lithe woman move around the stage, commandeering it as if it were her own. There was something quite attractive about watching the way she owned the stage and was able to outshine the rest of her teammates—Pieter included.

All too soon, the performance came to an end, and the members of DSM were walking off of the stage towards the gob smacked Bellas. Pieter was the first to open his mouth, his mocking statement picking up the girl's dropped jaws and putting glares on their faces.

"And that, dear tone deaf Bellas, is how a real A Capella group performs. Not that any of you would know what real A Capella was, even if it bit you in the bum," Pieter snarks, causing scowls to form on the Bellas faces, and a smug smirk to stretch across Kommissar's lips.

Beca finds her eyes drawn to the blonde, watching as the smirk on the other woman's face minimizes into a barely-there smile. Their eyes lock as Pieter continues his taunts, Kommissar licking her lips seductively behind her teammates back, flashing a smoldering look in Beca's direction. Beca swallows harshly, her mouth suddenly going dry, and grabs Chloe's bottle of beer off of their tabletop, downing the remaining contents in one, long gulp. Chloe shoots a displeased look in Beca's direction as Beca's attention refocuses on the German beauty before her.

While Chloe, Fat Amy, and Pieter banter back and forth, Cynthia Rose notices that Beca's attention is elsewhere. She laughs quietly to herself as she watches Beca and Kommissar stare each other down, their eyes darting between one another's and traveling down to each other's lips. Cynthia Rose watches as Beca's eyes drift from Kommissar's lips to her body, drinking in the other woman's curves and physically flawless body. She always knew that Beca wasn't straight and, right now, in this moment, it's obvious her level of gayness is almost on par with hers.

"You know, we'd love to stick around and continue this banter, but we wouldn't want your mediocrity to rub off on us," Pieter retorts to whatever response Chloe gave before, ending the argument with the Bellas and snapping Kommissar and Beca out of their lust-induced haze. Kommissar allows the corner of her lips to tilt upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief and lust. Beca gulps at the look, leaning her back against their previously occupied table, and dropping her attention to the floor.

"More like we don't want your mediocrity to rub off on us," Chloe retorts, internally face-palming at the lame comeback. Fat Amy pats her on the shoulder condescendingly.

"That was an awful comeback, but at least you tried," Fat Amy murmurs in Chloe's ear, causing Chloe to roll her eyes in response.

"See you at the Worlds, Obese Denise and the bumbling buffoons," Pieter mocks, waving for his team to follow him out. As the group makes their way through the crowded room and towards the exit, Kommissar hangs back and walks up to Beca, leaning down so her mouth is level with the brunette's ear.

"I hope to see you again, Hobbit. Maybe you can use your short height and big mouth for something useful next time," The blonde whispers, her lust-filled tone causing Beca's insides to melt, her heart to beat out of her chest, and her body to ache in want. "See you soon."

And with that, Kommissar walks away, leaving behind a group of confused Bellas, and a horny, sexually confused Beca.

Chapter Text

The second time the Bellas came across Das Sound Machine, Beca was unprepared. The moment Chloe pointed out the German A Capella group, Beca's eyes immediately fell on the tall, gorgeous blonde stalking towards her, a predatory smirk on her lips. Beca closed her eyes momentarily, taking several deep breaths to calm her racing heartbeat. When she reopened her eyes, Kommissar and Pieter were standing directly in front of her, Kommissar's attention focused solely on her, a familiar glint in her eyes.

"Tiny mouse! We meet again," Kommissar says mockingly, staring down at Beca with pure unadulterated amusement. Beca shrinks under the blonde's gaze, turning her attention to Pieter instead; figuring it would be safer to stare at the obnoxiously tall man, instead of the strangely alluring woman.

"How's a verbal beat down? It's the highlight of my day," Pieter states, his accent thickening in mock excitement as he stares down at the Bellas with thinly veiled disdain. He and Kommissar share a small smirk at the Bellas' obvious irritation with them, turning their attention back to the girls when they hear a myriad of scoffs.

"So, have you abandoned your foolish plan to face us at the Worlds?" Kommissar questions the team, her eyes focused on Beca as she asks the question. Beca looks back at Kommissar then, swallowing thickly, and internally cursing herself for allowing her eyes to glance at the woman who causes her brain and mouth to be uncooperative with each other.

"You wish, you gorgeous…specimen," Beca drawls out in response, closing her eyes in mortification as she tucks her chin into her chest and cradles her head in her hands. "She's really in my head," Beca whispers to Chloe in distress, the ginger offering her a sympathetic look in response. Kommissar, however, looks positively elated by the short brunette's distress, taking great pleasure in knowing that she is the root cause of it. Deciding to play around with Beca some more, the German woman steps forward, slightly closing the distance between them. She watches as Beca releases her head from her hands, lifting her gaze to level their eyes. Stuttering slightly at the unreadable look she finds in the petite brunette's eyes, Kommissar decides to join Pieter in dishing out various insults, doing her best to distract herself from the shorter woman's intense gaze.

But, as the two DSM leaders sling a few more taunts at the group—watching as the Bellas get riled up with frustration, racking their brains for a decent comeback, but failing miserably—Kommissar finds herself catching Beca's gaze again, internally shuddering at the—now readable—look in the other woman's eyes. On the outside, however, Kommissar is as composed and unaffected as ever.

Beca wishes she was able to be as cool and nonchalant as the blonde. Unfortunately, cool is not a trait she possesses.

As Pieter and Kommissar go on about large, inexpensive envelopes, Beca lashes out at Pieter, claiming him to be too freakishly large to fit into an envelope; which, of course, elicits a taunting chuckle from him and the German goddess. It turns out that the blonde actually finds Beca's inability to dish out a proper insult—as well as her awkwardness—to be strangely endearing. In others, she would find it incredibly irritating and unbecoming, but, with the hobbit, it was almost cute. Not that Kommissar would ever admit that out loud; it would make it obvious that her teasing was done mostly out of affection, and not entirely out of malice.

The host of the party calls for everyone's attention—breaking up the little banter session between DSM and the Bellas—and announces that every group is required to participate in a riff-off. Pieter and Kommissar send one last disdainful look towards the Bellas—Kommissar's disdainful look faltering as she catches Beca's eye—before walking off to join the rest of their team.

Beca watches Kommissar go, grateful to have some distance put between her and the overwhelmingly gorgeous woman. In that moment, Beca became aware of one thing: she was in trouble.

So much trouble.

Unfortunately for the Bellas, the riff-off ended with a DSM victory. Thanks to Emily opening her mouth and singing her own original lyrics—instead of lyrics for a song required for the category—they were automatically disqualified, declaring DSM the riff-off champions.

It was a sore loss for the girls, watching as the smug, mocking smiles crossed the faces of their opponents, but they took the loss in stride, managing to keep their heads up as DSM began performing Kris Kross' "Jump" to celebrate their victory. In that moment, Beca allowed herself to wander away from her group of friends to approach Jesse in the crowd, listening with disinterest as he fawns over the Green Bay Packers in attendance. Not long after approaching him, Jesse bids her farewell, informing her that he plans to meet them and that he'll look for her later, leaving her alone in a sea of aca-losers.

Releasing a heavy sigh at being abandoned, Beca wades through the throng of gyrating bodies, making her way out of the large room, and through the curtain she entered from. As she enters the small, dark area on the other side of the curtain, she sees the familiar face of the blonde DSM leader, the woman in question leaning against the wall with a tired expression on her face. Beca takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and summons every ounce of courage she has. When she opens her eyes, her chest puffed out in confidence, she sees familiar icy blue eyes already focused on her, a small smirk forming on the other woman's lips.

"What are you doing out here, hobbit? Were you on your way back to the shire?" Kommissar quips, her smirk widening when an offended gasp escapes the shorter woman's lips.

"Just because you are from the land of tall and beautiful beings, does not mean that you are cool," Beca responds lamely, releasing a grunt of frustration at her lack of a decent comeback.

"Oh, so I'm not, as you Americans say, 'cool', but I am tall and beautiful? How nice of you to say, strawberry shortcake" Kommissar says playfully, her remark lacking its usual malice. Beca watches as the blonde straightens up her stance and begins walking towards her, her heartbeat speeding up as the woman grows closer.

Beca forces herself to stand her ground, rising up to her full height—which only matches up to the blonde's shoulder—and forces her eyes to meet Kommissar's, holding the taller woman's stare as she stops to stand in front of her.

Kommissar looks down at Beca, smirking when she notices the brunette swallowing hard, and leans down, her mouth now level with Beca's ear. "Do I make you nervous, Zwerg?"

Beca gulps loudly, shaking her head frantically in denial. "N-no, n-not at a-all."

"Oh, but I think I do," Kommissar offers in response to Beca's stuttered answer, taking several predatory steps towards her, successfully backing Beca into the nearest wall. Beca quietly whimpers at the close proximity between her and the blonde, averting her gaze from the woman's lips, to the wall behind her. "Admit it; you're attracted to me. You want me," Kommissar rasps out, her accent thickening with each word spoken.

"I-I don't."

"You do."

"Just because I've had dreams about burying my face in your cleavage, does not mean that I want you. It doesn't even mean that I'm attracted to you; it just means that I really like your boobs," Beca rambles out nervously, her voice unsteady, and her forehead sporting small beads of sweat. Kommissar licks her lips seductively, Beca's eyes following the action, and cradles the brunette's face in her hand, rubbing the pad of her thumb against her cheek almost caringly.

Beca releases a shuddery breath at the unexpected contact, biting her lip nervously when Kommissar brings her face closer to hers; their lips so close, they're almost touching. Beca's breaths become heavy and uneven, her eyes darting between icy blue orbs and plump, pink lips. The urge to kiss the German beauty was strong—almost urgent—but Beca held strong, not giving into the temptation she so desperately wanted to succumb to.

"I know you want to kiss me, hobbit, I can see it in your eyes. Can't reach my lips?" Kommissar teases, causing Beca to both roll her eyes and gulp loudly.

"I have a boyfriend," Beca informs the blonde, reminding herself of the sweet man just in the room next door.

"Oh, do you? Where is he? Did you meet him in the shire? Or is he one of the dwarves from Snow White?"

"Do you have, like, a short person fetish or something?"

"Not exactly; little people just fascinate me. Especially little people with large mouths," Kommissar says flirtatiously, leaning her face closer to Beca's, their lips on the brink of touching. "Kiss me."

"I ca—"

"There you are, Beca! Chloe's been looking all over for you!" Fat Amy exclaims as she pushes back the curtain, stopping in her tracks when she sees the position her best friend and the DSM singer are in. She watches in curiosity as the two women quickly step away from one another, putting a large, much needed distance between them. "Am I interrupting something?" She asks with a raised 'brow, pursing her lips together when she sees the panic-stricken expression on Beca's face, and the aloof expression on Kommissar's face.

"Dude, no. We weren't doing anything. She totally wasn't going to kiss me, and I totally wasn't going to let her, I swear! We were just talking...with our faces...super…close…" Beca trails off, the nerves evident in her voice. Fat Amy nods slowly, humming in uncertainty.

"Okay, right. Yeah, that's cool," Fat Amy starts unsurely, "Anyway, you should really get back inside before Chloe starts showing your picture to everyone in an attempt to start a search party. I'll be near the bar if you need me," Fat Amy informs her before turning on her heels and walking back into the crowded room. She thinks back to the scene she just witnessed and remembers the statistic she gave Aubrey on initiation night. She believed, then, that at least one of the women in their group would be a lesbian. But, now as she thinks about it, she should have considered that a bisexual would exist in their fold as well. Shaking her head to herself, she grabs the nearest beer bottle and downs its contents, more than ready to get absolutely wasted tonight.

Meanwhile, out in the hall, Beca stares nervously at Kommissar, while Kommissar stares back at her blankly.

"So, I think I'm going to go back inside," Beca mumbles.

"If you must. I hope to run into you again, hobbit. Maybe sometime soon," and with a quick stroke to Beca's cheek, Kommissar heads back into the party, leaving a flustered Beca behind.

Chapter Text

It was the day of the Worlds, and the Bellas were filled with nervous excitement. They watched their opponents' performances from backstage, anxiously awaiting their turn, while offering their own little commentary amongst themselves to pass the time. They watched performance-after-performance and listened to comment-after-comment; each girl rolling their eyes whenever the male announcer, John, opened his mouth and shared his usual racist or sexist remark. All offensive remarks aside, each girl was shivering with anticipation, more than ready to get on stage and show the Worlds what they could do. They worked hard to get where they were, and they were more than ready to make anyone who ever doubted them eat their words; the announcers and DSM, especially.

"Look who's here," Chloe mumbles under her breath, nodding her head towards Pieter and Kommissar, the two Germans entering the backstage area with their team.

Beca looks in their direction, her eyes immediately finding Kommissar. When she catches the other woman's eye, seeing that familiar mischievous glint reflected in them, she steels her resolve; promising herself to appear aloof and unaffected while in the other woman's presence. She was tired of being reduced to a blathering idiot when in close proximity to her. This was the Worlds; she needed to girl the hell up and prove that she could be just as snarky and witty as her two opponents. But, as the duo—specifically Kommissar—got closer to her, her resolve immediately started to crumble.

"Do you hear that?" Kommissar asks as she approaches them, her signature smug expression already on her face. The Bellas grumble in annoyance when they hear the audience chanting the name of their competition. "They chant. For us. Now, don't cry too hard when you lose, alright?" Kommissar says with mock sympathy, cradling Beca's cheeks in the palms of her hands, while stroking the pad of her thumb against her skin. "It makes eyes puffy," she says with a mocking pout, releasing the brunette's face a short moment later.

"Your hands are so soft…" Beca whispers, her voice wavering as she stares after the retreating hands. Kommissar wipes her hands off on a small towel, raising her 'brow questioningly at Beca's quiet admission.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak loser. What did you say?"

"She actually speaks 8 languages, but loser is not one of them," Pieter supplies randomly, receiving a pleased smirk from Kommissar in response.

"Everything good must come to an end; even the Bellas," The blonde beauty says intimidatingly, flashing Beca an unreadable look.

"Take care and lose nice," Pieter quips in parting, he and Kommissar retreating from the Bellas to join their group near the stage entrance.

Beca calls after their retreating figures, a scoff escaping her throat as she says: "Your sweat smells like…cinnamon," she falters on the last word, grunting in frustration at her failure to dish out a proper insult. Fat Amy places her hand on Beca's shoulder, then, squeezing it empathetically.

"It's okay," The Australian starts, "It's hard to insult someone that gorgeous. I'm sure that everyone has had an experience where they said something borderline flirtatious or complimentary towards their arch nemesis. I totally get that," Fat Amy offers with a shrug, the double meaning behind her words not lost on Beca.

Beca suddenly remembers the position Fat Amy found her and Kommissar in at the party, a faint, embarrassed blush now spreading across her cheeks at the memory. In an attempt to stray away from the uncomfortable topic, Beca clears her throat loudly, hoping to halt any possible invasive—or revealing—questions that may come up. (Knowing her group of friends, the moment they catch wind of the intimate moment she shared with the leggy blonde, she will never hear the end of it; and that is the last thing she wants to happen right now).

Catching Amy's eye, Beca narrows her eyes in warning, begging the other woman to keep her mouth shut about what she knows—or thinks she knows. But, knowing Fat Amy, she actually does know. The other woman has always been scarily intuitive like that, and always seems to know more than she lets on.

Heeding Beca's nonverbal warning, Fat Amy raises her hands in silent surrender, promising to keep her mouth shut. Beca breathes out a relieved sigh, and smiles gratefully at her friend, happy to have dodged that bullet. For now.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage: Das Sound Machine!" The host of the competition announces, eliciting obnoxiously loud cheers from the crowd. The Bellas watch from backstage as DSM runs onto stage, their energy and enthusiasm so apparent, it's almost palpable.

Beca watches as they jump into their performance not a moment later, Kommissar and Pieter singing the opening lines, and absolutely killing it. Beca finds herself so transfixed by Kommissar's performance—the way she moves, sings, dominates, and demands attention—that she doesn't even feel the least bit apprehensive about how amazing their performance is. Instead of feeling apprehensive, she felt impressed and—if she was being completely honest with herself—extremely turned on.

Things weren't looking too good for her—well, Kommissar always looked exceptionally good to her; the woman just didn't know how to be unattractive like the rest of them—but things definitely weren't looking good for her outstanding heterosexuality….

Beca snorted at that thought. Who was she trying to kid? She was in no way, shape, or form, heterosexual. Her figurative hard-on for Kommissar was so obvious that she sometimes looked down at the crotch area of her jeans, half-expecting to see a raised tent in her pants. In other words, she had a major toner for Kommissar, and her inability to insult the other woman just further proved that. And now, watching her strut across that stage, her presence strong and commanding, it's even harder to deny her attraction to the other woman.

It's just, well…it's just undeniable.

Beca's thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the thunderous applause from the audience, their howling and whistling loud enough to rupture someone's eardrum if they were in the midst of it. The performance is done, and she spaced out on more than half of it, Kommissar being the only thing she noticed the entire time DSM were on stage. No surprise there, Beca thinks to herself with a silent scoff.

As soon as the applause dies down, the host calls the Bellas to the stage, the women in question bouncing on their heels in excitement. They do their usual pre-performance ritual and make their way to the stage, passing the DSM members as they walk to their mark. Beca and Kommissar exchange quick glances when they pass each other, the tall blonde sending her a kiss and a wink to psyche her out; it works.

Beca finds herself tripping over her own two feet and turning into a blushing mess as she steps out into the spotlight, looking to Amy who sends her a conspicuous wink. Huffing out in frustration, Beca gets into her position, and begins singing.

The Bellas won.

The all-female A Capella group has managed to take down every other A Capella group in the world, including DSM. After all the taunting they received from the German group, the look on their faces when the Bellas were crowned the winner made their victory seem ten times more gratifying; it was the best form of revenge.

After they were crowned the winners, a huge after-party took place in the outdoor arena where all the teams got together and socialized, congratulating each other on their stellar performances. Even DSM members took part in the celebrations; Pieter and Kommissar included. Beca spent most of her time with her friends and Jesse, though, Jesse managed to get lost in the crowd more than once, and by his fifth disappearance, Beca gave up on trying to locate him. Instead, after throwing back a few shots and dancing wildly with Chloe and Stacie for an hour straight, Beca decided to take a break from all of the excitement.

Claiming an empty corner by the stage for herself, Beca leans her back against the stage wall with a non-alcoholic beverage in hand. She observes the on goings of the party from her small corner, laughing to herself when she spots Stacie and Chloe engaged in a heated make-out session….with each other. She definitely did not see that one coming, but it turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant sight. Not wanting to spend too much time staring open-mouthed at her friends, she decides to focus her attention elsewhere, setting her sights on a familiar blonde; one who's heading right towards her.

"Mighty mouse, what are you doing all the way over here?" Kommissar asks as she approaches Beca, a surprisingly genuine smile on her face. Beca finds herself completely disarmed by the uncharacteristically genuine smile on the blonde's face, opening her mouth to reply to her question, but finding that her mouth is temporarily incapacitated. So, in response, she offers a one-armed shrug.

Kommissar chuckles at the lack of response and sidles up to the short brunette, leaning her back against the stage wall, her arm brushing against Beca's briefly. Beca shudders at the brief contact, taking a deep breath to steady her erratic heartbeat.

"So….what brings you over here? Have you come to mock my height; or are you here to beg for my forgiveness?" Beca says semi-confidently, mentally patting herself on the back for saying something not lame.

Kommissar playfully scoffs at the question, shaking her head in amusement. "I've come to do neither. I actually just wanted to congratulate on you on a job well done. I was impressed," she says with a nonchalant shrug, the sincerity in her tone catching Beca by surprise.

"Really?" Beca asks skeptically, not quite believing her ears…or her eyes. A genuine smile and a sincere compliment from Kommissar—of all people—in under 2 minutes? She couldn't believe it. This couldn't be the same woman who insulted her and the Bellas every time they crossed paths. This had to be an act.

The blonde rolls her eyes at the brunette's obvious skepticism, and nods, looking down at her with a small smile on her lips. "Yes, really."

"And why do I find that hard to believe?" Beca mumbles as she takes a sip of her coke, side-eyeing the blonde with intrigue.

"You don't have to believe me, hobbit, but I mean it," The blonde shrugs, drinking from a flute of what looks to be filled with champagne. A moment of silence ensues after that, dragging on for an extended amount of time; until the blonde decides to break it. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Beca stops mid-sip, turning her attention to curious, icy blue eyes. "He is…somewhere," she mumbles unsurely.

"Is he currently serving his princess, Snow White?"

Beca can't say that she didn't see that one coming.

"I was wondering when the other shoe was going to drop."

"Being nice for too long makes me feel itchy," Kommissar informs her, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Right... I guess that's why you usually insult me, then."

"I only insulted you for the purpose of, as you Americans say, 'psyching' you out. You were my competition, and as far as I'm concerned, the only competition. Pieter and I didn't mean much of what we said; especially any of the insults that involved you" Kommissar says truthfully, taking a sip from her flute to hide her growing blush. Beca notices it, however, and narrows her eyes at the tall woman inquisitively.

"Wait, do you, like, have a crush on me?" Beca's answer comes in the form of choking, a dark, red blush, and avoidance of her gaze. "Am I dreaming?" Beca mumbles under her breath, pinching the skin of her wrist roughly to make sure she's not. When she releases a loud yelp, she nods resolutely to herself. "Yup, definitely not dreaming," she stares at the blushing woman, then, raising a 'brow at her questioningly. "So, at the party when you had me pinned against that wall….were you really going to kiss me? Did you really want to kiss me?"

The blonde looks at Beca with a pointed look. "You're joking, right? Did you think I had you in that position just for kicks?"

"Well, yeah," Beca blurts out. "I admit that many of our moments have been rather…intimate, but part of me figured you were just trying to throw me off my game by manipulating my emotions and making my very gay thoughts come to light. You actually wanting me comes as a big surprise, honestly" Beca admits, closing her eyes in embarrassment when she realizes she's rambling.

Kommissar takes a step towards her then, closing the distance between them. Beca looks up at her with dark eyes, her heart stuttering, and her breathing uneven. The blonde lifts her hand, then, cupping Beca's cheek in her palm, and stroking her thumb across her skin caringly. Beca swallows harshly, her eyes looking deeply into icy blue eyes.

"Trust me, I wasn't trying to manipulate your emotions; not entirely anyway. Part of me liked watching you squirm, but mostly, I just wanted an excuse to touch you or be near you. You hobbits are an intriguing species," Kommissar says jokingly, a large, teasing smile on her face.

"Is this how you woo all the girls?" Beca jokes back, not feeling nearly as cool on the inside as she's appearing on the outside.

"No, usually I woo them like this…"

And then it happens. Kommissar leans forward, her lips so close to Beca's they're almost touching. Beca feels herself leaning in as well, desperate to taste the lips of her former opponent. She's so close to giving in; so close to getting what she desperately craves…but then she stops herself.

She couldn't do this. Not to Jesse. She isn't a cheater.

So, she backs away from the blonde, shaking her head of the fuzziness in her mind, and offers her an apologetic look. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"I know," the blonde whispers out, a sad, apologetic smile on her face. "I had to try though, didn't I?" She says in an attempt to lighten the mood. Beca offers her a half-hearted smile in response. "Well, I guess I'll go and rejoin the party. I hope we will meet again someday, Beca. Good luck with your dwarf—I mean boyfriend."

With a kiss to Beca's cheek and a squeeze to her hand, Kommissar leaves her side, quickly disappearing into the crowd and out of Beca's sight.

In that moment, it truly hit Beca that she may never cross paths with the gorgeous blonde ever again.

Chapter Text

6 months later…

"Beca, hey!" Chloe exclaims as she opens the door to her apartment, pleasantly surprised to see the familiar face of her former Bellas teammate. She pulls the brunette into a bone-crushing hug, burying her face into the crook of the shorter woman's neck. "I've missed you so much," she tells her sincerely, pulling back from their hug with a bright smile on her face. "So, what brings you by?"

Beca offers her friend a small smile, shrugging noncommittally. "I was in the area and figured I'd drop by," she offers lamely, avoiding inquiring blue eyes as she focuses her attention on her fidgeting hands. Chloe's eyes follow her line of sight, reaching her hand out to stop the fidgeting, and covers Beca's hands with her own.

"You were just in the area? Beca, you live on the opposite side of the country. What's really going on?" Chloe asks in concern, lacing her fingers through Beca's, and pulling the shorter woman closer to her.

Beca looks up and meets worried baby blues, opening her mouth to provide a proper answer, but finding that no words will come out. "I-I, umm, I just…I don't know, Chloe. I guess I've just been really stressed out lately," Beca admits quietly, her attention straying to her and Chloe's joined hands. Chloe pulls on Beca's hands, nodding her head toward the front door in a silent, inviting gesture. Beca takes the hint and allows Chloe to pull her into her home.

Upon entering the small apartment, Beca looks around the entryway, noticing several Bellas portraits hanging on the wall, as well as a few pictures of various family members framed and placed on a side table. She, then, spots a few antique vases and figurines resting beside the framed photos, quietly chuckling to herself when she notices one of the figurines is just a miniature replica of Fat Amy. Chloe allows Beca to look around her entryway for a few more moments, dragging her towards the living room when she thinks the brunette has had enough time to digest her immaculately decorated surroundings.

Upon entering the living room, Chloe takes a seat on her three-person sofa, pulling Beca down onto her lap by hand, and wrapping her arms around the smaller woman's waist to hold her in place.

"Dude, what the hell?" Beca exclaims, squirming atop the redhead's lap, trying to break free from her surprisingly strong hold. Chloe grins at the wiggling brunette, tightening her hold on the smaller woman's waist.

"It seems that the only time I can get you to talk or do my bidding, is when I have you in a compromising position. So, spill. Why are you really here? Is it Jesse? Work?" Chloe begins, looking up at Beca from below her; staring at the brunette with inquisitive eyes.

Beca releases a sigh and sags against the redhead, allowing herself to be held by her overly-affectionate best friend.

"So?" Chloe prompts when Beca doesn't say anything.

Beca sighs again, opening her mouth to speak. "I'm partly back here in Atlanta for work, and partly here—at your house—because I needed to see a familiar face. Things are just a little crazy at work right now."

"So….it's not about Jesse or anything related to your relationship, right?"

"No, Chloe. I'm not here about anything relating to Jesse or our breakup from 5 months ago. The only relationship he and I have right now, is: friendship," She states sternly, rolling her eyes at her friend's question. "I'm here because my boss has made me into a talent scout of sorts. He was really impressed with the work I did with Emily, and has decided to send me on a mission to recruit some singers—from here—who he discovered on Youtube."

"Um, isn't that something you should be happy about? I mean, this was the same guy running the studio over here who gave you a hard time, right? He was impressed by your song with Emily, and now he pretty much trusts your musical judgment enough to let you scout out talent for him. This is a big deal, Beca," Chloe says with excitement, staring up at her friend's obvious lack of enthusiasm in disbelief. "Beca, you've been working at that label for under a year and are already moving up in the business. How many first year interns can say that they're boss appointed them to scout talent for them, and has allowed them to lend a helping hand in the music they produce?"

"I don't know…maybe a few," Beca mumbles, grunting in pain when Chloe tightens her arms around her in a vice grip. "Okay, not many," she relents quickly, rasping out a breath of relief when Chloe loosens her hold a smidge.

"Exactly. So, go do your thing. Go scout the talent. When you're done, you can come back here and tell me all about it," Chloe says sternly, loosening her grip on Beca. Beca inhales a large gulp of air—feeling as if she's been deprived of oxygen—and rises from Chloe's lap, happy to have her personal space back.

"Fine."

"Good. But, first, tell me about the people you're scouting. How many of them are there, and are they any good?" Chloe asks, leaning her back against her couch cushions and stretching out her limbs. Beca takes a seat beside her and nods in reply to her question.

"Yeah, from what I've heard, they're pretty good. There's actually two talents I'm here for. There's a duo here in Atlanta who sent a demo tape to our studio. They're music is amazing, but I can't help but feel like I've heard their music before. I mean, it's definitely original, but something about their voices just seems really familiar…" Beca trails off, getting lost in thought as she remembers the track her boss played for her the day before. She remembered listening to the voices of the male-female duo, the rock and hip-hop vibe their music gave off striking a chord with her—in a positive way.

"Maybe you have heard their music before," Chloe offers, shrugging nonchalantly. "What about the other act?"

"The other act is a sixteen year old boy from Decatur who my boss found on Youtube. He's got more of an Indie rock vibe. He's surprisingly good, though"

"Well, you best get going if you want to get these recruitment meetings over with," the redhead informs her with a faux country twang, offering her friend a large, dazzling smile. Beca returns the smile and nods, rising up from her seat.

"Yeah, you're right. I guess I'll catch you later, loser."

"Damn right," Chloe says with her smile still in place, rising up from her seat to give Beca a brief hug, and a pat on the rear. "Good luck!"

Beca managed to sign the 16 year old Indie rock guru in a matter of minutes. The moment he heard the words: record deal, he caved, immediately asking to sign the dotted line. His parents were extremely supportive, allowing their kid to do whatever he could to make his dreams come true; regardless of whatever consequences could possibly surface. Beca wasn't sure if she should be in awe of their easy-going nature, or completely flabbergasted by it. Either way, her trip to Decatur was successful and her label now had one more artist on board.

Now, all she had to do was convince this duo to sign to their label, and she'd be able to say her trip to Georgia was a success.

As she pulled up to the address the record label had on file for the duo, she noticed a small, rectangular sticker of a German flag placed on the back window of a black range rover. Looking over the entire residence, she notices the fresh-looking beige paint on the house and the immaculately green, freshly-cut grass. The house was well-kept and located in a fairly nice neighborhood. From what Beca could tell, these people were from a middle-income, German-American family.

Retrieving the folders holding the documents needed for the visit, Beca steps out of her car, quickly locking the doors behind her. She walks up the cobblestone pathway leading to the front porch, noticing the large, bulky knocker placed on the front door. Gripping the knocker between her thumb and index finger, she pounds the bronze device onto the hard, wooden door, releasing it after three loud knocks. She steps back from the door—placing at least two feet of distance between her and whoever answers the door—and waits.

A short moment later, she hears a click of a lock and sees the turning of the knob, the door suddenly swinging open to reveal a familiar blonde. Not just any blonde either, but the blonde. The same blonde who has been plaguing her thought since Worlds. The same blonde who was so imbedded in her mind after Worlds, that she couldn't even find it in herself to remain with Jesse much longer.

Don't get her wrong, she loved the guy. He treated her well, supported her no matter what, and was the only person outside of the Bellas that really understood her. But towards the end of their relationship, even before she met Kommissar, things between them were starting to get predictable and stale. They were both trying so hard to keep their relationship up-and-running, but it was to no avail. They just weren't meant to be together. Their relationship had run its course, and they both knew it. Even if she and Jesse were no longer boyfriend and girlfriend, they were still best friends and, to Beca, that was more than enough.

After her break up with Jesse, she often found herself wondering about Kommissar; how the other woman was doing; where she was staying; and if she ever thought about her. For the last 6 months, Beca let it sink in that she was never going to see the beautiful German again.

Clearly she was mistaken.

Now, standing before her in all her tall, goddess-like glory, was Kommissar. The woman was dressed in tight, black jeans; a loose, white t-shirt; and simple black ballet flats. It was a look Beca had never seen on the woman before, but she found that she liked it. Now, face-to-face with her long lost crush, Beca finds herself staring into familiar icy blue eyes, her eyes trailing down to the woman's lips when her trademark smirk starts to form.

"I see you've escaped from the shire. Did the Kings of Arthedain let you out?" Kommissar says teasingly, her eyes twinkling with mischief and a slight tinge of happiness.

"I have no idea what any of that means, dude, but hello to you, too," Beca replies, a smile stretching across her lips. "What are you doing in Atlanta? Don't you, like, live in Germany?" Beca questions, eyeing the blonde with curiosity.

"Well, mighty mouse, if you must know, I did something called 'moving'. Pieter and I wanted a change of scenery, so about 3 months ago we packed up our things and moved here; to the quiet streets of suburban Atlanta. I've got to tell you, this place is nowhere near as nice as my former place in Germany, but it's a lot more calm and peaceful," Kommissar explains with a shrug. "But enough about me; what about you? Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" Beca repeats to herself unsurely, racking her brain for the answer, before remembering the folders in her hand and her reason for being back in Atlanta. And then it clicks; Pieter and Kommissar are the duo her label is trying to sign. That track her boss had her listen to seemed so familiar because it was familiar. Now it all made sense. "I'm here to offer you a record deal," she recites to the blonde, watching as confusion turns into shock, and shock turns into realization.

"Wait, you work for BMB records?" Kommissar asks in surprise.

"Well, yeah. That would be explain why I'm here…on your front steps….with these folders in my hands," she explains, shaking the folders to emphasize her point. "So, shall we talk business?" Beca asks nervously, fidgeting under the blonde's intense gaze.

Kommissar nods, opening the door wider for Beca. "Come in."

The visit lasted a little over two hours—mainly due to Pieter's incessant need to dish out his usual sass—but, all in all, the visit ended on a high note. The duo was now signed to BMB records, and Beca could call her trip to Atlanta a success.

Well, almost a success. There was just one last thing she needed to do.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

As Kommissar walked Beca to her car later that evening, Beca worked up the nerve to the one thing she'd been dying to do since she first met the other woman. "Hey, Kommissar?"

"Yes, snack size?" the blonde questions playfully, her eyebrow raising on its own accord.

Beca takes a deep breath, puffs out her chest in confidence, and stands on her tippy toes, managing to place a soft kiss to the tall blonde's lips. Kommissar gasps in surprise at the contact but, ultimately, allows herself to melt into the kiss, adding much needed pressure to the gentle kiss. Beca remains on her tippy toes, placing a few parting pecks on the other woman's lips before pulling away. She gulps in a few puffs of air, feeling as if all the air was sucked out of her lungs.

She'd been left breathless twice that day, but only one of those times could potentially end with a fatality; the other time just left her with a racing heartbeat, erratic breathing, and bats flapping around in her stomach. She'd prefer the second option any day.

When she pulls back from the kiss, she watches in awe as Kommissar's eyes flutter open, her icy blue eyes now appearing a few shades darker, and her lips now swollen from the kiss. The blonde takes a step closer to her, then, cradling Beca's cheek in her palm.

"What was that for?" she asks in a gentle whisper, staring into Beca's eyes with a something akin to hope.

Beca allows a small smile to spread across her lips, a dark blush now spreading across her cheeks. "Well, since you signed the contract, that means you'd be having to spend a lot of time in L.A., and since I live there and you'll be spending most of your time there, I was wondering if….you know…if you'd like to….do stuff?" Beca stutters out, internally smacking the palm of her hand against her forehead. Kommissar smirks playfully at that, rubbing the pad of her thumb against the brunette's cheek.

"What about your boyfriend?" Kommissar asks cautiously; just to clarify that there wasn't going to be anyone interfering with their….possible future relationship.

"We broke up months ago," Beca informs her, watching as a smile lights up her face.

"Well, then I'd love to do stuff with you. I guess we'll put your large mouth to use after all," Kommissar teases flirtatiously, receiving an eye roll in response. Two can play that game, Beca thinks to herself.

"Maybe we will," Beca flirts back, rendering the blonde speechless. Taking that moment of speechlessness to escape, Beca quickly opens the doors to her car and hops in, rolling down the window to properly look at Kommissar, a mischievous smirk on her lips. "See you in L.A."

And with that, Beca takes off, leaving behind a smiling yet, very turned on, Kommissar.

THE END.