Archive of Our Own

Stacie Conrad wearily slid the key into the lock of the front door of her apartment. She was completely exhausted from another ten hour day juggling research studies, data collection and processing, and project management. The job was great - it was always exciting and challenging. She was very thankful that the weekend had finally arrived. Her plan included getting into comfortable sweats, eating some dinner, falling asleep on the couch watching idiotic television, and then staying in that same routine for the following 48 hours. 

When the door opened, she saw her roommate Beca Mitchell stretched out on the loveseat in their living room. She chuckled to herself. Stretched out on the loveseat - ha. Beca barely covered the whole thing even if her legs were completely straight. Stacie could cover the whole couch. This was one reason they matched so well. Beca and Stacie had been friends since freshman year in college. They both attended Barden University outside of Atlanta. Beca was a radio/TV production major; Stacie was biochem. Even though classes for their majors would never overlap, they did have two of the same undergrad classes. And they happened to live across the hall from each other in their dorm. They hit it off, moved in together the next year, and have been together ever since. They were a study in contrasts. Stacie was a tall, leggy, knockout brunette. She could easily have been a model. Her looks often caused people to overlook her brain. After college, she went into biomedical research - which is why Beca always referred her as “my smart friend.” Beca was a tiny, short brunette who was also very beautiful, but in a totally different way. She had an edge to her. She was viciously witty, musically brilliant, and fiercely loyal. She also was freaking hilarious with a dry humor. All of that explained how - even at a relatively young age - she landed the host of a radio morning show in Atlanta: Beca, Bumper, and Fat Amy in the Morning. Her two cohosts were both insane. Part of the allure of the show was Beca’s increasing exasperation as she tried to keep things on track while dealing with the rest of her wild team. Stacie, along with a huge audience, found it a riotous way to start the day. The show had become so popular that it went into national syndication the year prior. 

“Hey, Beca. How was your … OH DEAR GOD! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR LEG?!?” Stacie pointed in horror at the massive bruise that covered most of the right thigh of her tiny friend.

“Oh, that?” Beca asked impassively. 

“Yeah, THAT!” Stacie replied. “That massive black and blue spot. Were you assaulted?” 

“Not officially,” Beca whined. “It was Bumper’s fault.”

“Of course it was,” the taller woman said, rolling her eyes. “When is it not his fault?”

“When it’s Amy’s,” Beca answered. 

Stacie huffed a laugh. “What happened this time?”

“Well,” Beca began, shifting on the seat. “He thought it would be a great prank to mess with my desk chair. Which included loosening the bolts underneath.”

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes,” Beca nodded. “The whole thing collapsed. I fell and smashed into a kettlebell.”

“Why the hell was there a kettlebell by your desk?” Stacie asked in confusion.

“Well, that is the natural place to put it,” Beca sarcastically explained. “Bumper brought it in to work to ‘get some exercise’ in. It is has been sitting on the floor for a month. It’s by my desk because his station is such a pig sty he has no room for anything else. He promised to move it two weeks ago.”

“Your job is inexplicably dangerous for being in an office,” Stacie laughed.

“Not inexplicable,” Beca countered. “Bumper and Amy are all the explanation you need.”

“True,” the tall woman nodded. “You’re okay though? It looks terrible.”

“Yeah,” Beca sighed. “It’s just a bad bruise. Nothing broken. I got it checked out.” 

“Good.” Stacie stretched and walked towards her room. “I’m going to change. Then order Thai food and crash on that couch.” 

“I already ordered the food,” Beca announced. “And I have the latest Real Housewives set up for you.”

“This is why I love you,” Stacie grinned. 

Stacie sat at the kitchen table eating her breakfast. She was thankful things had calmed down at work. The stress levels had definitely been reduced. Still, she as always thankful for Saturdays. She liked being able to sleep in, if she desired. Taking a leisurely amount of time eating cereal and playing on her phone. Beca had been out at a station function the night before, so Stacie hadn’t even seen her since Thursday. She looked up when she heard a slow shuffle coming down the hall. When Beca looked up, Stacie gasped. “What the hell happened to you?!?”

Beca grimaced. “It looks bad, huh?”

“Your eye … it’s black and swollen shut. You look like you were boxing last night.” Stacie rose a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Were you boxing last night?”

“No,” Beca answered with a scowl. “I’ll give you two guesses.”

“What did they do now?”

Beca flopped into a dining room chair and grabbed a handful of cereal out of the box. “We had that event last night over at the fun park. Amy decided to chuck a baseball at me when I wasn’t looking.” 

“How did it hit your face?” Stacie asked. 

“Well, she yelled, ‘Hey Beca! Heads up!’ So I looked up just in time to see the ball.” 

“Beca! You could have been seriously hurt!” Stacie voiced in obvious concern. “They are going to get you killed.”

“Yeah, I know,” Beca groaned. “Luke bitched them both out. Bumper didn’t throw the ball, but he had come up with the idea.”

“Are you … okay? Like nothing damaged in your eye?” Stacie examined the bruised spot and winced. 

“No, just a bad bruise. Nothing broken,” Beca assured her. “I got it checked out before I cam home.”

“You’re going to need a frequent visitor card at the clinic,” Stacie chuckled. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Beca mumbled.

Things continued along in this manner for a couple of months. Stacie would find Beca in various states of injury, which were always due to her idiot cohosts. None of the injuries were life threatening, but they all had the potential to have been severe. As unlucky as Beca appeared, she swore she actually could have been in much worse shape. 

Every time, Beca blew off the incident, said she got checked out, and claimed she was okay. Stacie didn’t understand how she was tolerating so many injuries without losing her mind. Beca never was the most … controlled person. People could hear it on the show. She lost her mind during their time on air over Bumper’s and Amy’s antics. But when she ended up getting hurt, she just glossed it over. 

“Beca,” Stacie started after she got her set up on the loveseat post-concussion. “Why do you let those two get away with all of this? It’s like you’re their personal punching bag.”

“I don’t know,” Beca shrugged. “It isn’t like it is malicious. They are just two big dumb goofballs.”

“Isn’t the station worried about all the insurance claims? Worker’s comp?” Stacie pushed.

“Not that I know of,” the small brunette answered. “As long as the ratings are high, they are willing to put up with a lot.” 

“Are they willing to put up with you being dead?” Stacie snapped.

“C’mon Stace,” Beca replied. “It isn’t that bad. Nothing serious has happened. It’s all minor stuff.”

“Yeah, until it isn’t,” Stacie argued. “How long before you … fall down the stairs because Bumper thought it was funny to put a tripwire? Or you get in a wreck because Amy decides to cover your eyes to see if you can drive blind?”

“Do you really think those would happen?” Beca laughed.

“YES!” Stace burst. “You’ve been stabbed, poisoned, and bludgeoned. You’re a tiny person. One of these days, you’re really going to get hurt.”

“I appreciate the concern, Stacie, really,” Beca said. “You’re making it sound worse than it is. But I will try to get them to be more careful.”

That lasted exactly three weeks. 

Stacie’s phone rang on Saturday afternoon. She was lounging on the sofa, enjoying her day off. When she saw it was Beca, she got concerned. Usually their conversations at least started with texts first. “Beca? Are you okay?”

“Ummmm…”

“Beca what happened?”

“We had that station picnic thing today. Uh … I tripped and …”

“You tripped?” Stacie harshly asked. “Or someone tripped you?”

“Uh, the second,” came the small reply. “Anyway, I think I really messed up my ankle. It has gotten really swollen, and it hurts like crazy. Would you be able to come get me? I can’t drive.”

“I’m on my way,” Stacie said, jumping up. “I’ve got your location already. I’ll be there in less than ten.” The two women had shared their locations on their phones for years. It had paid off several times to stave off bad dates and help with broken down cars. Stacie raced to the park to get her friend. 

When she arrived, she saw Beca sitting on a bench by the parking lot. Her shoe and sock were off. The ankle looked like a grapefruit … a bruised and painful grapefruit. She helped her friend into the car, shooting daggers at Bumper and Amy. The duo hid a good distance away, probably to avoid the wrath of the tall brunette. Beca directed Stacie to an urgent care center close to the radio station. 

As they were driving, Stacie kept looking over at her friend with a concerned look on her face. Finally, Beca snapped,“What?”

“Beca, I need to ask this. And I want you to be honest,” Stacie clearly stated. Beca glared. “Are you in some kind of fight club?” Stacie grinned after the question.

“NO!” Beca hollered. “What makes you think I’m in a fight club?”

“It’s just … you get hurt so much.” Stacie explained. “I have never seen someone - who isn’t even CLOSE to an athlete - get hurt as much as you.” 

“So you think the most logical explanation for my non-athlete ass is that I’m in a fight club,” Beca deadpanned. 

“I’m just trying to figure it out,” Stace shrugged. She looked at the GPS. “Why are we going to this urgent care anyway? It isn’t even in your network?” 

“This is the closest place to the station,” Beca argued. “And they have all my information now, so… it makes sense.”

“No,” Stacie firmly stated. “It makes no sense. You shouldn’t be recognized by the staff at an urgent care center.”

“Whatever,” Beca said, rolling her eyes. “They do a good job.”

Stacie helped guide Beca into the waiting room and got her situated in a chair. A gorgeous redhead sat behind the front desk. Stacie headed towards the check-in desk, but the redhead popped up and looked with great concern at the small brunette. 

“Beca! You’re hurt? Again? Why are you always hurt?” 

“Hey Chloe,” Beca said sheepishly, a bright red blush rising up her face.

The redhead glided over to the waiting area. “I brought you your paperwork,” Chloe announced. “It looked like you wouldn’t make it to me.” She smiled down at the tiny brunette. Then she cleared her throat. “So, who’s your friend?” Chloe asked, gesturing at Stacie. The tall brunette thought she caught a flicker in the woman’s eyes, but it was quickly gone. 

“Oh, this is my roommate Stacie,” Beca explained. “She was kind enough to drive me.”

“Well, thank you roommate Stacie for bringing my favorite patient to see me,” Chloe said beaming. She winked at Beca and announced, “I’m going to get a wheelchair. I’ll be right back for you. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?” Beca replied. Chloe’s laughter tinkled as she walked away.

“Oh, dear Lord,” Stacie groaned. “I see now why you come here.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beca whispered.

“Red over there,” Stacie nodded at the woman.

Beca opened and closed her mouth like a fish. “You … you think I’m INTENTIONALLY hurting myself … to meet women?”

“Face it, Beca,” Stacie offhandedly commented. “I’ve known you a long time. That wouldn’t be the WORST idea you’ve had.”

“Fuck off,” Beca grumbled. 

“You have a thing for the redhead.”

Beca spluttered. “No … No, I don’t … You’re crazy.” 

“It’s fine,” Stacie replied. “I can see why you do. She’s hot.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Beca warned.

“I thought you didn’t have a thing for her,” Stacie answered with a sickeningly sweet voice. 

“Fine,” Beca hissed. “Fine, I do like her. But so what? It’s not like anything is going to happen. I’m her patient.” 

“So you’re just going to keep getting hurt and coming in to flirt?” Stacie asked. “Seems like the better option would be to go to a different clinic so you wouldn’t be your patient any more.” 

“I…” Beca thought for a minute. “I didn’t think of that.” She shook her head and continued, “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like she is interested.”

“OH ho ho, my tiny friend,” Stacie laughed as she booped Beca’s nose. “THAT is where you are wrong. She is VERY interested.” 

“How do you know that?” Beca snorted.

“Because of the look she shot me when she thought we were together,” Stacie explained.

“What?!?”

“Oh yeah,” Stacie grinned. “She wasn’t happy. Fortunately, you made it clear we weren’t a couple.”

“Yeah right,” Beca scoffed.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Stacie said. She started filing her nails. 

Chloe returned with the wheelchair. She locked the wheels and said, “C’mon Becs. Put your cute butt in here.”

Beca blushed even deeper red. She glanced up at Stacie. The brunette raised her eyebrows. Beca glared and looked away.

Fussing over Beca, Chloe asked, “How did this happen this time? One would think you’re in a risky profession. Are you in a risky profession?”

“You know I’m not,” Beca mumbled. 

“I asked her if she was in a fight club,” Stacie said.

Chloe laughed. “She couldn’t tell you if she was. That’s rule number one.” Both Stacie and Chloe laughed while Beca looked confused. 

“She wouldn’t get that,” Stacie explained. “Beca hates movies.”

“Oh really?” Chloe asked with wide eyes. “What do you do on dates if you don’t go to movies?”

Beca turned beet red. “Ah … I don’t date much … “

“I find that hard to believe,” Chloe said with a wink. She then turned to Stacie and announced, “I’m going to take this one back to get checked in. I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

“Okey dokey,” Stacie said, sitting down in a chair. She watched the redhead pushing the chair away and laughed.“Clueless,” she said to herself. “Beca is absolutely clueless.”

Beca got run through the standard evaluations by a nurse. Then she got sent to get x-rays of her leg. Then she had to wait in a room while the x-rays were processed and read. Stacie was allowed back to sit with her while she waited. Beca wasn’t entirely convinced this was a better situation since Stacie relentlessly teased her about her massive crush on Chloe. No matter how much Beca tried to deny this, her constant blushing and stammering sold her out. 

“You should just ask her out, Beca,” Stacie finally said in a rare moment of seriousness. 

“Oh, sure,” Beca scoffed. “You’ve seen her … she’s a goddess … who am I?”

“Listen tiny,” Stacie began. “I know that me being serious will possibly cause all kinds of problems to our relationship. But I am going to do it anyway. First, you are hot. You have a banging body. When you actually wear something other than hoodies - even your flannels and tank tops - people drool all over.” Beca started to interrupt, but Stacie lifted her hand. “Second, you are co-host of an extremely popular nationally syndicated morning show. You are at least a D-List celebrity. Third, you are a thoughtful, loyal, patient person. The mere fact that you haven’t killed those two assholes you work with shows just how thoughtful, loyal, and patient you are. And finally, you are a pretty decent friend. So why would someone NOT be interested in you?”

“Wow,” Beca said after a long awkward moment of silence. “That was … so uncharacteristically kind of you. Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stacie said with a sigh. “Don’t get used to it.”

It turned out that Beca had fractured her ankle. She ended up getting a cast and crutches. Stacie asked if she could be the first to sign the cast. She promptly drew a set of boobs on it. Beca was finally discharged. Stacie went to pull the car up to the exit, and Beca went to sign out at the front desk. Chloe lit up when Beca arrived, but her face soon fell when she saw the cast and crutches. 

“Oh, no, Becs,” Chloe cried. “You broke yourself this time.” 

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Literally.”

“What are we going to do with you?” 

“Ummm…” Beca remembered what Stacie said. She summoned all of the courage she could muster. “You could go out with me? Maybe go get dinner? Next weekend? Not a movie, of course.”

Chloe smiled. “I would love to go out with you,” she began. Beca smiled, but then hesitated when she heard the “but”coming. “But they kind of frown on us dating patients…”

“Oh,” Beca said, her face falling. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Chloe answered. “I’m not supposed to go out with someone … as long as they are still a patient of this center.” She looked directly at Beca and raised her eyebrows - hoping the small woman would catch the meaning behind her words. 

“Right,” Beca nodded. She noticed Chloe’s face and ran her words back. “So, you can’t … as long as I’m still a patient here?”

“Yup.”

“But, if I was to no longer be a patient here …” Beca started. Chloe grinned. “So I could just go to a different urgent care.”

“I mean, that is one option,” Chloe laughed. “The other is for you to stop hurting yourself. I think that is a better option, actually.”

“I don’t know if I can guarantee that,” Beca explained. “But I can assure you that I will not come back here when I inevitably get hurt again.”

“Super,” Chloe beamed. 

“Since this is my last visit,” Beca began. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

“I’d love to!” Chloe grabbed one of her colored Sharpies (of course she had colored Sharpies) and came around the desk. She squatted down and started to write.

“You can put your number,” Beca ventured hopefully.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chloe said as she was writing.

“Oh, I thought you said…” Beca trailed off.

“I wouldn’t want just anyone to have my number,” Chloe explained, hopping back up. “But give me your phone, and I’ll punch it in there.”

When Beca crutched her way to the car, she was glowing with a massive smile on her face. 

“What are you so happy about?” Stacie asked as she helped her friend get into the car. 

“I asked Chloe out,” Beca announced.

“Oh really?!?” Stacie excitedly questioned. “Way to go!” She waited a few moments and continued, “What did she say?”

“She said yes, you jackass,” Beca growled. “Well, I can’t come back to this urgent care, though.”

“Maybe that will be encouragement to stop getting hurt,” Stacie mused.

“That’s what Chloe said!” Beca laughed. “I told her that was pretty unlikely, though.” 

“Idiot,” Stacie said. “Oh, did she sign your cast?” 

“Yeah,” Beca answered. “I haven’t been able to see it yet. What does it say?”

“It says … I HATE TO SEE YOU GO, BUT I’LL LOVE TO WATCH YOU LEAVE. Ha. She’s a dork.”

Beca blushed (again). “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Stacie said as she turned her head to read the rest. “She drew an arrow to my boob drawing and wrote IS THIS AN ACCURATE DRAWING OF YOURS? I HOPE SO. I’LL FIND OUT SOON.” Stacie burst into laughter. “Oh, I like her. Nice job, Beca.”

“Thanks,” Beca mumbled. “I can’t believe she wrote that. I have to go to work with this thing.”

“It will make for great content,” Stacie observed.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Beca groaned. 

“Who would have know that your frail little body would land you such a hottie?” Stacie said. 

“I know, right?” Beca laughed. “I guess I can’t be too angry at Bumper and Amy then.”

“Oh, no,” Stacie argued. “You can and should still be pissed as hell at them. But now that you have those crutches, maybe you can actually hand out some revenge.” 

“I like the way you think, Conrad,” Beca said with a grin. She sat there for a few moments as Stacie maneuvered the car out of the parking lot and back towards their place. “I have a date with Chloe,” she finally said.

“Yes, yes you do,” Stacie agreed.

“Almost makes the cast worth it.” 

“Yeah, wait until it starts itching,” Stacie pointed out. “Then let me know if you still think that.”

“Aw, damn it,” Beca groaned. “I kind of hate Bumper and Amy.”