Quesadillas and 20 Questions

For some God-unknown reason, it had been decided that Beca and Jesse were to paint the gloomy radio station walls that equally gloomy day. Why? Neither of them knew. All they knew was they were going to be spending an extended period of time in the dark old radio station, obeying the orders of that douchebag Luke.

(That was what Jesse had started referring to him as. That Douchebag Luke, just like they referred to Bumper as Bumper Allen the Douche. It was a term of affection, almost.)

But, for Jesse, it was the perfect opportunity to chat to Beca. They spoke, he knew a little about her (mainly that she was opposed to movies and his utmost rival in the aca pella world), but that was the opportunity to have a good old chinwag (no one said chinwag. He could almost hear her saying that).

"So, Beca the Bella", he drawled, dipping his paintbrush into the tin of paint.

"Jesse the nerd", she mirrored his actions, slapping it against the wall.

"You're a leftie too?" he said in surprise. "I didn't know that".

"There's a lot you don't know about me", she said, almost mysteriously.

"I feel like that's a challenge".

"It's not".

"Are you sure? I feel like that's definitely a challenge".

"It's definitely not".

"Twenty questions?"

"Twenty questions, seriously? How old are you?"

(She felt like that was a stupid question. That was the boy who threw juice pouches at her on a day to day basis.)

"What, are you scared?" he challenged.

Beca Mitchell was not scared. "Got twenty in you?" she said instead,

"Got twenty in you?" he retorted.

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"Do you have a middle name?" Jesse asked curiously, as he shoved a shelf out of the way. "God, why are we stuck doing this? I mean, I understand why I'm stuck doing this, but he loves you- Becky".

Beca rolled her eyes. "It's Anne".

"Rebecca Anne?"

"Beca Anne. And you're his lunch bitch".

"Shut up. Really? Just Beca".

"Just Beca". She nodded, diverting his eyes from his. "Just Beca".

"Well I think you're anything but 'just Beca'", he said honestly, and her ears turned pink.

"Favourite flavour juice pouch", she fired at him, and Jesse gasped dramatically.

He'd made that same noise when she asked what his favourite movie was (and that alone had taken a twenty minute self-debate. God that boy could talk).

"It's like asking a parent to choose their favourite child!" he almost wailed.

"You said that when I asked what your favourite movie was. Christ, Jess, its juice, not an infant".

She'd never called him Jess before. The nickname rolled off her tongue like she'd known him forever.

"Kiwi strawberry", he said finally.

That was her favourite too.

"Favourite food".

"Anything Mexican", she answered easily. "I love Taco Bell. I would live of Taco Bell if my mother had let me. My mother's not here, I can eat whatever I want. And then there's my father. Who insists I join him and the stepmonster for a meal a minimum of once a week".

Yeah, there was no way she was sitting through a meal with the stepmonster more than once a week. Her father had to be kidding himself.

"Huh", he said thoughtfully.

(If he ever did plan that picnic that Benji had suggested, he'd bring Taco Bell. Also that big ass candle Benji had, because that was cute.)

After an hour of the same mundane questions that every game had, Beca decided to spice it up a bit. So she threw out the question that Jesse wasn't expecting.

(Hell, the look on her face showed that even Beca, the one who asked the question, wasn't expecting it.)

"First kiss?"

"Relative or non-relative?"

"Ew, non-relative you weirdo!"

"I was six".

"Ooh, early starter".

"By the pony my mother hired for my sister's birthday".

That caused her to laugh for a solid fifteen minutes. She coughed and snorted and tried to calm herself down and anyone watching would have thought she was very drunk.

"In my defence", Jesse said, for the fifth time, "I was blindfolded".

That didn't make it any better. In fact, it probably made it worse.

They covered every topic possible, sticking within the limit of their twenty questions, while they painted that dark and gloomy radio station ("why? He's acting like we've actually got people here").

"Done", Beca said with a sigh, throwing down her paintbrush.

What a waste of an afternoon. She could have spent the afternoon having a nap or mixing music irritating Aubrey at Bellas practice (but she still had that to look forward to)

"Wait!" Jesse said, setting down his own paintbrush and pulling on his shoes (they'd both abandoned their shoes an hour earlier, in the hopes of making painted footprints. Luke would really enjoy that). "I've got one question left".

"Oh my God, how old are you?"

"There's a Taco Bell just off campus, want to grab something to eat? We've both missed lunch".

"Jesse-"

"Beca", he cut her off. "We're two friends that happen to have the same shifts. What's wrong with getting something to eat together?"

So the two of them headed off campus to the Taco Bell (how had she not seen that on her way in? that was her new favourite place in Georgia), ignoring the fact that Donald or Chloe or Aubrey Posen or Bumper Allen could have seen them (or, God forbid, Fat Amy).

Just because he knew the way to her heart didn't mean he'd abuse it.