Chapter Text
Chloe has a tendency to be make impulsive decisions. She impulsively failed her Russian Lit final the first time around because she suddenly panicked about the thought of moving on to the real world. She impulsively moved to New York when Beca asked her on a whim one day after graduation. She impulsively kissed Beca at the end of the USO tour simply because she was high on adrenaline and felt like taking a risk.
Not that Beca is complaining about that last part. Not one bit. Especially since it led to the two of them confessing their feelings for one another and moving to LA together.
So Chloe is impulsive. Beca knows this about her. Beca loves this about her.
Still, that doesn’t mean Beca is happy when Chloe comes home with a small fuzzy creature cradled closed to her chest.
“What is that?” Beca asks, standing up from her place on the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at the abomination.
Chloe beams. “I was at the shelter helping out some of their sick animals and this little guy just would not leave me alone,” she says, seemingly oblivious to Beca’s wariness. The gray cat in Chloe’s arms perks up right then, as if sensing Beca’s distress. It stares at Beca with large green eyes and Beca stares right back.
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why it’s here now,” Beca says, still watching the cat, as if waiting for it to leap out at her at any moment.
Chloe hugs the animal closer to her chest. “Because he loves me, that why,” she claims, pouting slightly. “I couldn’t just leave him there after all the bonding we did today.”
“I love you, isn’t that enough?” Beca asks pathetically, knowing she’s already lost this battle.
Chloe grins at her. “And you’re here, aren’t you? I took you home, just like I took Skimbleshanks here home.”
Beca recoils as if she’s been slapped. “Okay, first of all you didn’t take me home; we literally went and bought a new place together. Secondly, we are not naming this thing Skimbleshanks.”
“I think it’s clever! It’s from-”
“Yeah I know what it’s from. I don’t want a cat named after that fucking movie.” Beca shudders. “I still have nightmares.”
“You’re such a baby,” Chloe says. “Cats is a classic musical.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s a good musical.”
Chloe pouts again, but decides to drop it. She pulls the cat closer to her face and tucks her chin against his head. “C’mon, Bec. You can’t hate this face,” she says in a cutesy voice.
Beca looks from Chloe’s soft eyes to the cat’s, then back to Chloe’s before letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine. We can keep… Skimbleshanks.”
Chloe smiles brightly, and Beca tries to ignore the way the sight threatens to bring a smile to her own face. “Yay! You’re the greatest, Bec,” she all but squeals, leaning in to give Beca a kiss on her cheek.
Skimbleshanks hisses as soon as he makes contact with Beca, squished between them and caught in the middle of Chloe’s affection. Beca recoils from the creature and looks exasperatedly at Chloe. “Oh, so it’s okay for him to hate me, but I can’t hate him?”
Chloe chuckles and sets the cat down on the floor, letting him start exploring his new surroundings. “He’s just nervous, don’t worry. It’s a new place and he’s a little shy, he’ll come around.”
Beca glances over at Skimbleshanks, only to see him looking back at her. The cat seems smug, somehow, as if it knows exactly what it’s doing.
She narrows her eyes at the fuzzy demon. “Doubtful.”
* * *
“Have you seen my wallet?” Beca shouts to Chloe through the apartment. She continues rifling through her bags to see if she left it in one of them.
“Did you check your work bag?” Chloe calls back from the kitchen.
“It’s not in there!” Beca replies, checking the contents on top of their dresser. Still no luck.
“What about your jacket pockets?”
Beca perks up and heads out into the hall to look in the coat closet. The door to the closet is open just a crack, and Beca pulls it open all the way to eagerly search her pockets. She shoves her hand in the first jacket she sees, making a little victory noise when she feels the familiar shape of her wallet in her hand.
She pulls out her prize and admires it with glee. “Found it, Chlo! You’re a genius!”
“I know!” is Chloe’s response.
Beca snickers and starts shutting the closet door when she sees Skimbleshanks – or “Shanks,” as she’s un-affectionately started calling him – creep out of the small space.
The cat stares up at Beca for a moment, and Beca narrows her eyes at him in return before he scampers away. Beca just shakes her head and starts shutting the door again, but something catches her eye that makes her pause. When Beca realizes what it is, anger flashes through her in an instant.
“Chloe, I’m going to kill your fucking cat!”
Chloe appears around the corner, looking startled. “What did he do?”
Beca yanks her leather jacket out of the closet and shoves it in Chloe’s face, putting the large slashes running through it on display. “Look at what that thing did to my jacket,” Beca snarls, throwing a glare at the offender peeking around the side of the couch.
Chloe winces apologetically. “I’m sorry about your jacket, baby. I’ll get you another one,” she says gently, pulling the jacket from Beca’s grasp. Beca, still seething, crosses her arms angrily over her chest.
“That cat has it out for me,” she grumbles.
Chloe chuckles lightly, placing a kiss against Beca’s cheek before walking back to the kitchen with Beca following grumpily behind. “Skimble doesn’t have it out for you, Bec. He’s just adjusting to his new home and needs a little more time to get comfortable.”
“Tell that to my shoes he peed on yesterday- and my charger he chewed through last week,” Beca stews. “Why hasn’t he ripped up any of your clothes?”
Chloe shoves Beca’s ruined jacket into the garbage, and Beca’s heart breaks a little at the sight. “He already feels comfortable with me, but is still wary of you,” she reasons. “You do give off some pretty hostile energy.”
Beca scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Can you blame me?” she asks, turning to look at where Skimble is sitting innocently on the back of the couch. “He’s giving off hostile energy, too.”
Chloe’s eyes switch between Beca and Skimble for a moment, amusement crossing her expression. “You’re right, Bec,” she says as the cat starts licking its paw. “Very hostile.”
Beca simply narrows her eyes further at the animal, determined to win at least one victory against it someday.
* * *
The air in the bedroom is too hot, and Beca regrets not taking off her clothes before Chloe climbed on top of her.
But really, Beca has no real regrets about her current predicament. None at all.
She can’t make herself regret, not with the way Chloe’s lips slide across every inch of (too little) exposed skin on Beca’s neck and chest. She can’t regret when Chloe sits up to pull her own shirt off before returning to her task. Can’t regret when Chloe pushes a knee between Beca’s legs and presses, causing a low groan to escape Beca.
And- okay, yeah. Beca needs to take her clothes off, like, now.
“Chloe,” Beca pants, pulling gently on Chloe’s hair in an effort to create space (unwanted space, really) between them so she can sit up slightly. Except, instead of moving off of her, Chloe shifts up to reconnect their lips again, which causes Beca to forget why she ever wanted to push Chloe away in the first place.
When Chloe rolls her hips against Beca’s again, that is all the reminder Beca needs.
“Chlo, baby,” Beca tries between kisses, her hands gripping desperately at Chloe’s back betraying her words. “Need- clothes- off… too hot.”
Beca doesn’t think Chloe is really paying attention to her, but then she is very suddenly pulling away from Beca, the cool air rushing into the space between their bodies making Beca shiver as Chloe straddles her waist.
Or maybe it’s the almost downright predatory look in Chloe’s eyes that’s making her shiver.
Either way.
“So needy,” Chloe teases Beca breathlessly, playful grin on her face.
Beca huffs. “You started this in the first place,” she points out, aiming for annoyance but landing somewhere around impatience instead.
“Mm, yeah, I did,” Chloe muses, smile sliding into more of a smirk. Beca gulps as nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons of her shirts, deliberately slowly. “Because you’ve been so busy all day-” a button comes undone- “and I’ve been so lonely.” Another button pops open and Beca resists the urge to scream at Chloe to go faster.
But once again, Beca had no room for complaints. This was part of the fun, after all. Beca really wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I’m not working now,” Beca breathes.
“You’re not,” Chloe agrees, popping another two buttons. “You’re right here. Right. Where. I. Want you.” She continues down the shirt with every word she drawls until Beca’s shirt is finally open. Chloe eagerly brushes aside the two sides and pushes herself forwards to attach her lips to Beca’s collarbone, sucking lightly before kissing her way down Beca’s chest.
Beca tries to keep her breathing in check at Chloe’s ministrations, twisting her hands into the sheets beside her head. Her eyes close as she focuses on the feeling of Chloe’s mouth, small whimpers falling from her lips at the feel of Chloe nipping here and her tongue swiping there.
Chloe moves lower, to Beca’s stomach, and Beca’s heart starts beating faster because she knows where this is leading and-
Mrow.
Beca’s eyes pop open at the loud, whiny sound their cat makes from somewhere within the apartment. Her ears strain as she waits for another one, Chloe still moving on top of her, apparently oblivious to the noise at all.
No new obnoxious sounds come for a minute, so Beca closes her eyes again and relaxes her body, focusing once more on the way Chloe feels. The button of Beca’s pants comes undone and Beca buries her hands in Chloe’s hair as Chloe gets closer and closer to her final destination.
Mrow.
Beca’s eyes fly open again and she glares up at the ceiling, wondering how the hell their stupid cat can somehow even ruin sex for Beca.
The needy whines coming from Beca are replaced by Skimble’s whines until Beca decides she’s had enough. She pushes at Chloe’s head to get her to sit up before untangling herself from Chloe and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
Chloe looks at Beca in confusion. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
Beca softens some, seeing the slight hurt on Chloe’s face. “No, trust me, you were doing everything right. It’s just-” Another meow rings throughout the apartment as if on cue. Beca’s eyebrows draw together in annoyance. “That damn cat,” she growls.
Before Chloe can ask any more questions, Beca is up off the bed and on the move, eyes searching for wherever Skimble is hiding. Chloe trails close behind, still shirtless and looking as flushed as Beca feels.
The meowing gets louder as Beca enters the kitchen, and Beca listens for a moment before opening the pantry door, revealing Chloe’s little shit of a cat sitting not so patiently inside.
“Oh, my baby!” Chloe cries, rushing past Beca to scoop Skimble up. Beca watches, completely astounded, as Chloe starts consoling the animal. “Did we accidentally lock you in the pantry? Were you in there all alone? Were you just so scared?”
Beca rolls her eyes at the sound of Chloe’s “babying voice” and sulks, the mood Chloe and Beca had been in clearly gone.
Skimble starts purring from Chloe’s affections, and Beca resists the urge to flip him off as she walks away.
* * *
The glow from the TV casts the room in multicolored lights, perfectly illuminating Chloe seated on the other end of the couch from Beca.
Chloe and Skimble, that is.
Beca isn’t even sure what’s playing on screen right now, too focused on the way the cat is greedily taking up all of Chloe’s attention.
And look, Beca knows that it’s dumb to be jealous of a cat. She knows it’s ridiculous to be envious of the attention Chloe is giving it.
Still, when Chloe runs a hand over the fur along Skimble’s back, Beca can’t help but think that it should be Beca’s back that Chloe rubs. When Chloe scratches Skimble’s head, Beca can’t help but wish that Chloe was running her hands through her hair. When Skimble settles more comfortably in Chloe’s lap, Beca can’t help but wonder how she got replaced as Chloe’s favorite cuddle buddy so quickly.
It’s pretty late when Chloe decides to call it a night, switching off the show or movie or whatever was playing. Beca is snapped out of her envious daze and stands up, still eyeing Chloe as she gives Skimble one more good scratch behind the ears.
Beca decides to leave them to it and makes her way to the bedroom. She’s halfway through changing into a sleep shirt when Chloe joins her a couple minutes later. Chloe smiles brightly at Beca, and Beca’s returning smile turns out to be more of a grimace than anything.
“What’s wrong?” Chloe asks, picking up on Beca’s sour mood immediately. Beca resists the urge to sigh; Chloe knows her too well at this point.
“Nothing,” she says unconvincingly. “Just tired.”
Chloe raises an eyebrow suspiciously, but chooses to let it go for now. Beca finishes pulling her shirt on and goes into the en suite bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Chloe goes in to do the same when she’s done, so Beca climbs into bed and pouts up at the ceiling while she waits for her to finish.
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” Chloe asks from the doorway, interrupting Beca’s moping. Beca remains silent, but Chloe apparently won’t let it go this time. “I can feel your grumpiness from the bathroom, babe. Something’s up.”
“It’s really stupid,” she mumbles, pulling her hands up to pick at her nails.
“Try me,” is Chloe’s response as she sits on the bed next to Beca.
Beca sighs before muttering under her breath quietly.
“You know I can’t understand you, right?” Chloe asks amusedly.
“I said,” Beca says more clearly, “I miss cuddling with you when we watch movies together.”
Chloe’s face morphs into one of confusion. “What do you mean? We always cuddle when we watch movies.”
Beca shrugs. “Not really anymore. Not since…” she trails off, unwilling to finish the thought.
“Since what?” Chloe prods.
“You’ve replaced me.”
Understanding dawns in Chloe’s eyes before a teasing smile appears on her lips. “You’re jealous of Skimble.”
Beca’s ears burn as she flushes in embarrassment. “I’m not jealous,” she claims defensively. She continues in a quieter tone. “Maybe just a little… envious of all the attention you’ve been giving him lately.” Chloe’s smile grows and Beca pulls the comforter up over her head. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You’re jealous of a cat,” Chloe says gleefully in a sing-song voice, pulling the blankets away from Beca’s head. She pokes at Beca’s face, forcing Beca to swat her hands away. “You like my cuddles.”
Beca huffs irritably. “You’re mean. I don’t know why I put up with you or your stupid cat.”
“It’s because you loooove me,” Chloe hums, swinging a leg over Beca’s lap to straddle her. Beca continues to keep her grumpy façade on, not willing to let Chloe win quite yet.
“Debatable,” Beca deadpans.
Chloe grins slyly. “You have nothing to be jealous of Skimble over, Bec. I love you more than him and you know it.” She leans down to speak smoothly in Beca’s ear, causing Beca to gulp. “Besides, I can show you a few things that you get that he doesn’t.”
Beca damn well forgets her own name shortly thereafter, and she comes to the conclusion that the stupid cat has nothing on her.
* * *
The sound of retching forces Beca’s eyes away from her laptop. She looks up from her place at the kitchen table just in time to see Skimble start throwing up in the middle of their hardwood floor.
“Gross, dude,” Beca tells him, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she watches him finish puking.
Skimble looks up at Beca with something close to embarrassment in his green eyes before running off, leaving his pile of yuck behind.
Beca sighs and pushes herself out of her chair, fetching some cleaning supplies before taking care of the mess. Skimble had been puking a lot in the past couple of days, and it was seriously starting to get on Beca’s nerves. Plus, he always seemed to do it when Chloe was at work, meaning she was the only one that ever had to clean up after him.
He obviously had it out for her, which wasn’t new information, but apparently he liked to remind Beca of the fact once in a while.
The same scene plays out again an hour later, causing Beca to swear irritably as she looks up from her laptop at Skimble crouched on the floor once more.
“What the fuck did you do? Lick your asshole too much?” Beca asks the cat angrily, pushing back her chair and grabbing her cleaning stuff. Skimble slinks away from Beca as she approaches, meowing remorsefully.
“Yeah, yeah. You better feel bad,” Beca lectures as she crouches down to clean up the puke. She pauses when she notices copious amount of blood mixed in with the mess.
Skimble meows sadly again. Beca looks up at him.
“Shit.”
The next few minutes are a whirlwind as Beca gathers up everything she needs in order to take Skimble to the pet ER. She shoves her feet in some old converse, grabs her wallet and car keys, and (gently) wrangles Skimble into his cat carrier.
Skimble protests the whole way to the vet. Loudly. Beca shoots him a glare at where he’s sitting, still inside his carrier, in the passenger seat next to her.
“I could just let you die, you know,” Beca informs him. Skimble stares up at her mournfully. “I don’t really care what happens to you. I’m only doing this because Chloe loves you for whatever reason.”
The cat simply starts meowing obnoxiously in response.
Beca drives faster.
They arrive at the vet soon enough, and Beca hauls the cat carrier inside, Skimble still mewing sadly from within.
The receptionist smiles at Beca as she approaches. “Hi! Do you have an appointment?”
“Uh, no, I don’t. But I’m here to see Chloe Beale- she’s my girlfriend.”
The girl brightens. “Oh! You must be Beca!”
Beca smiles awkwardly. “That’s me. Okay listen, so something’s wrong with Chloe’s cat and-”
“Beca?”
Beca’s head whips around to see Chloe standing in the doorway leading to the examination rooms. “Hey! Something’s wrong with Shanks.”
Chloe’s eyebrows draw together in concern. “What happened?” she asks, gesturing for Beca to follow her.
“Well, you know how I told you he’s been throwing up a lot lately?” Beca starts as they walk down the hall. Chloe nods her head and hums in the affirmative. “Okay, so he threw up again a couple times today, and the last time he did there was blood.”
They arrive at one of the rooms, and Beca sets Skimble’s carrier down on the exam table. Chloe unzips the carrier and coaxes the cat out, softly cooing her condolences to the thing as she does so.
“You poor baby, that must have been so hard.”
Beca pouts. “Yeah, it was gross cleaning up all that puke.”
Chloe looks up at Beca. “I was talking to Skimbleshanks, Bec.”
Beca feels her face flush. “Oh. Right,” she says awkwardly. “I’m just gonna-” Beca gestures to the door- “leave you to it, then. Do your vet thing.”
An hour later, Chloe meets back up with Beca in the waiting room. She flops in the chair next to Beca, setting Skimble in his carrier down on the floor by their feet.
“Everything okay with Shan-” Beca cuts herself off at the warning glance Chloe gives her- “with Skimbleshanks?”
Chloe smiles a little at Beca’s effort. “We did some tests and found out that he’s got some stomach ulcers. We’ll have to do some more tests over the next little while to make sure they heal properly, but he’ll be alright.”
Beca breathes out a sigh of relief, then wrinkles her nose in confusion as to why she feels relieved. “Oh, that’s good. Wouldn’t want your little demon to die or anything.”
Chloe looks at Beca amusedly. “No, my ‘little demon’ is going to be just fine.”
“Good.” Beca nods once before standing up. “I guess I’ll just head home, then?”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best. As much as I would love for the two of you to hang out here for a little while, I think I’d get a little distracted having you around,” she agrees, standing up as well. A teasing glint appears in her eye. “It was sweet of you to show so much concern for Skimble, Bec. I knew you cared about him.”
Beca scoffs. “I do not! I could care less if he died. I only brought him here for you.”
“Mhm,” Chloe hums, sounding unconvinced. “I’ll let you believe that for now, but only because I’m grateful you helped him at all.”
“Does that mean I’ll get a big ‘thank you’ later?” Beca asks smoothly.
Chloe winks. “You bet, baby. Now, I need to go back to work before they fire me.”
Beca kisses her quickly and swats her butt playfully as Chloe walks away, smiling before picking up Skimble and heading out of the office.
* * *
Beca sneezes hard, promptly cursing miserably right after.
She was sick.
No, she wasn’t just sick. Beca was positive she was dying.
Beca didn’t get sick very often. She liked to think she could attribute that fact to her astounding self-care routines (see: staying up until 3 AM and barely drinking water), but it was probably due more to the fact that she was so stubborn that she could usually just tell the sicknesses in her body to fuck off before their effects could really take hold.
Still, two or three times a year Beca was pretty much knocked on her ass from something as simple as the common cold.
Which is was how Beca was now; lying prone on the couch in her apartment, waiting for the sweet release of death to end her misery.
Beca stares at the blank TV in front of her, wishing it would turn on for the sole purpose of drowning out the sound of her own obnoxiously loud breathing. She picks up her head slowly, searching for the remote so she can fulfill her wishes, and makes a little sound of rejoice when she sees it on the floor near the couch. Tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration, Beca stretches out her arm, trying to reach the remote without leaving her current spot.
After struggling hard for a good while (ten seconds) with no success, Beca drops her arm and flops back down with a sigh.
The TV was officially a no-go, then.
Something creeps into the corner of her vision, and Beca turns her head to see Skimble come sauntering into the living room, looking extremely unbothered by Beca’s current state of health.
Beca glares as the cat sits down in the middle of the floor, staring at Beca. “I’m assuming you think this is funny,” Beca grumbles at him.
Skimbleshanks does not respond.
“You know, you could show at least a little compassion, here. I did when you started puking up blood that one time.”
Skimble blinks in reply.
Beca sighs and turns her head to stare at the ceiling. “You’re hopeless, you know. And pointless. I really don’t get all the hype Chloe gives you.”
It’s silent for a few minutes after that, and Beca starts thinking that maybe she could nap when she hears movement off to her side. Her eyes open and she looks to see Skimble sniffing around the very remote she failed to reach earlier.
“Oh, so now you’re just gonna rub it in my face, huh?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “Show me how you can get to it, but I can’t.”
Beca watches as the cat continues to inspect the remote, figuring she literally has nothing better to do at the moment. Skimble starts swatting at it soon enough, apparently having decided it was a threat, and Beca rolls her eyes at the action.
“If you break my remote, you’re paying for it,” she says tiredly, turning her head back to rest against the couch’s armrest and closing her eyes.
A soft thunk against the couch forces Beca’s eyes open again a moment later. She looks at the floor, confused, and sees the remote laying on the floor right beside the couch, now easily within Beca’s grasp. Beca’s eyes travel a little further to see Skimble sitting innocently on the floor where the remote used to lay, casually licking his paw.
And Beca doesn’t know if it’s the cold medicine she’s taken, or the fact that she misses Chloe and wishes she would come home from work, but Beca feels her heart soften for the dumb cat sitting before her.
“Did you just… help me?”
Skimble meows.
Beca resists the urge to grin. “Well, thanks, Shanks,” she says as she scoops up the remote and flicks on the TV. “I guess you’re not totally pointless after all.”
She starts searching through channels, eventually settling on Catfish (ironic name, really). Some time passes by with Beca barely paying attention to what’s happening on screen before she feels the cushion her feet are on dip slightly. She peeks down to see Skimble standing hopefully at the end of the couch.
“Don’t think that we’re friends now just because you helped me out,” Beca says sternly, eyes narrowing at Skimble even as he places a hesitant paw on her leg.
Beca sighs.
“There’s no fighting you on this, is there?”
Skimble meows and climbs up to lie on her stomach, head nuzzling onto her chest as he gets comfortable.
Beca rolls her eyes and places a hand on his head, stroking her fingers softly through the gray fur there. “Alright, fine. Just make sure you’re gone by the time Chloe gets home; I don’t need her giving me crap about this later.”
The soft rumble of Skimble’s purrs against Beca’s chest eventually lull Beca into a comfortable sleep, and Beca thinks that maybe – just maybe – this dumb cat of theirs isn’t so awful after all.