FRIDAY, April 12th, 1912: 3:45 PM

Beca sees Chloe descending the steps of the entertainment room and watches as the redhead's eyes sweep the room, clearly looking for something or someone. She can't deny the hope that it's her that Chloe's searching for.

Not wanting to approach Chloe, in case she's not the reason for Chloe venture to the third class, she waits, content to watch Chloe slowly make her way through the room. Her elegant dress sticks out amongst the crowd, and she can tell that the redhead feels out of place here.

Beca can't help the upturn of her lips when she sees the way that Chloe gives small, courteous smiles to the gentlemen who lift their caps as she passes them, and how the redhead's smile intensifies as she spots a few rambunctious children weaving between clusters of legs to chase a puppy on the loose.

She can't help her grin at those reactions any more than she can help the flip-flop of her stomach when Chloe's eyes finally reach hers.

She breaks eye contact when she hears Jesse clear his throat behind her, turning to see him grinning, as she feels her cheeks flush with heat when she realizes she'd automatically risen from her seat when she saw the redhead enter the room.

"Knock it off," she grumbles, punching him lightly in the shoulder as she takes her seat once again, her eyes fixating on the wooden panels of the floor.

"Looks like she's on her way over here," Benji whispers excitedly. Beca's eyes flick to see Benji shifting in his seat like a restless child, before her gaze falls back to the floor.

"Oh, this is gonna be good. Embarrassed Beca is my favorite Beca," Jesse adds with a snicker, rubbing his hands together menacingly.

"I swear to God, Jesse, don't be a fucking assho-" Beca starts to respond.

"I didn't realize my savior has such a colorful vocabulary."

Beca's eyes widen when a pair of expensive, suede heels appear in her peripheral vision. Her head snaps up and she sees Chloe standing over her, holding a parasol that rests against her shoulder. The amusement playing on her face betrays any offense at Beca's choice of words, and she finds it encouraging.

"Well, when one has friends like mine," she starts, once again instinctively rising from her seat, "one often finds that profanity is the only appropriate response, short of physical violence."

"Ah, diplomatic profanity. I see," Chloe giggles, her amusement now transformed into a wide grin.

"It's safer for all involved," Beca reasons, tugging at her suspenders as she leans back onto the heels of her feet.

"Beca, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" Jesse interjects, once a short silence falls over the two.

Jesus, she'd nearly forgotten that Jesse and Benji were even there.

"Right, right," Beca mumbles sheepishly. "Chloe, this is Jesse Swanson. If you may recall, he's the one who pushed me into a freezing river," she teases with a smirk.

"That was an accident!" he exclaims, before rising from his seat.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chloe," he says, shaking Chloe's hand enthusiastically. When she releases his hand, he leans in towards the redhead conspiratorially. "Mostly because we don't often get the pleasure of having such...pleasantly fragrant company in steerage," he stage whispers, nodding his head at a rotund man at the end of the bench.

Jesse's joke prompts another round of giggles from Chloe, and even a small chuckle from Beca. She has to hand it to him, the guy does look like he hasn't bathed since the turn of the century.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jesse," Chloe responded once she gained control of her laughter.

"And this is Benji," Beca declares, resuming the introductions. "We've only just met him on the ship, but he seems like a stand-up fellow. So we figured we'll keep him," she finishes, throwing Benji a friendly wink, so that he knows she's only joking.

Benji removes his bowler hat, and takes Chloe's gloved hand in his own, bending at the waist to give it a light kiss. "Someone's got to stick around to teach these heathens some proper manners," he counters. "Benjamin Applebaum, at your service, miss."

"I think it's a bit too late for these old dogs to learn new tricks, Benji," Beca challenges.

"Manners are overrated anways," Chloe answers, and her eyes meet Beca's. Though the Chloe's expression is light, Beca recognizes a kind of wistful sadness in her tone. Her brow furrows the slightest bit as her eyes search Chloe's.

Beca is somewhat shocked at how quickly Chloe replaces the melancholy with a smile. She's seen Chloe smile genuinely by now, and she can tell that this one doesn't quite reach Chloe's eyes. Her heart constricts a little when she realizes that this is a skill that Chloe has probably perfected over a lifetime surrounded by stifling parents and expectations.

How lonely must her life be?

Chloe holds eye contact with Beca long enough that Benji clears his throat, so as to break the silence that had fallen over the group.

Chloe seems to remember herself, and straightens up immediately, clearing her throat in much daintier way than poor Benji.

"Well, it was lovely to meet you, Jesse and Benji. I was hoping to get a word with Beca, here, as long as I'm not interrupting anything."

"You're not interrupting," Beca blurts out before her two friends can get anything in edgewise. She can feel her body starting to overheat as soon as the words spill from her lips.

"Right, then," Chloe chirps, clapping her hands together.

A few moments pass, and Jesse and Benji still stand beside them, eyes flicking amusedly between the two women.

"Well, would you talk a walk, Chloe?" Beca asks, once again nervously tugging at her suspenders. "So we might have a bit of privacy?" she finishes, throwing a pointed glance at her buddies.

"Right, right," Jesse apologizes, motioning for Benji to resume their seats.

Beca extends her arm, deciding not to overthink the action. After all, it seems to be a custom amongst people of Chloe's station.

Chloe says nothing, and accepts her arm as Beca leads them towards the stairs to lead them up onto the deck.

Beca turns for a quick moment to see Benji smiling smugly at her, and Jesse twisted in his seat, his head propped on his folded elbows that rest on the top of the bench. He blows her a mocking kiss and she glares at him before resuming her spot beside Chloe as they ascend the steps.

They walk for a minute or two, with unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between them.

"Why?

"Chloe, I-"

They pause their strolling, and Chloe feels better when she sees Beca's cheeks redden just the same way that she can feel her own cheeks and ears turn pink.

"After you," Beca says, bowing her head lightly.

Before making her way to find the brunette, Chloe had felt like human bundle of anxiety at the thought of seeing Beca again. A woman who had seen Chloe while her mind had been in the darkest place it had ever traveled, and who still looked at her like...like she was important. Not her name; no, Beca hadn't even known her name then. Just that she, just she, is important.

"Why did you save me?"

Not the greatest start to a conversation, Chloe thinks. Her sense of tact seems to have gone on holiday.

Beca's eyes widen only for a moment, and then Chloe observes her brows furrow.

"I did what anyone should have done in that situation," Beca replies, her statement falling flat between them. Beca's lips turn down into a slight frown and Chloe can see there are words that go unspoken.

"Truly?" Chloe asks, pausing their easy stroll to focus her attention completely on the brunette.

She can see the way Beca's mouth opens and closes, opening once more before she says, "I...I don't know."

And Chloe can accept that.

She'd spent the day figuring out how best to excuse herself from the sharp eye of her family and her fiancée in order to hopefully catch Beca.

Why?

Chloe can't say. But she'd felt a connection with the brunette the moment that Beca had interrupted her likely death.

"Why were you going to jump?"

The question breaks Chloe's inner monologue. She hadn't really prepared for Beca asking this of her.

If her father, mother, fiancée, or...anyone, frankly, had found her in the position Beca had found her in, she suspects that they would have pulled her back and continued their lives without ever asking.

But Beca had asked, and if the expression on her face is anything to go by, it was a serious question.

"Well..."

She lets the question linger, trying to find a response that would explain the overwhelming desire to do what she was prepared to do last night.

But none of them quite feel like an answer that Chloe finds adequate.

Beca appears to register her hesitation and tugs her elbow forward to prompt them into their stroll once again.

"I've been there, too. Well, not there, but, ya know, there. No need to explain, really," the brunette says, and Chloe is grateful for the out that Beca has offered her. Though it leaves a myriad of questions in its place.

They've walked nearly half the ship's length in a comfortable silence until one of the questions that have been hounding Chloe's mind slips loose.

"Where are you from? I can't seem to place your accent," she asks, her face landing once again on Beca's profile. Her collared shirt accentuates the brunette's sharp jawline, and rich brown curls tumble over the opposite shoulder. Even from the side, she can tell the brunette's lips are pursed, as she contemplates the question.

Beca leads them to the railing of the ship, so that they look out over the horizon, sunlight reflecting the waves of the ocean for as many miles as their eyes could see.

"Everywhere, I suppose," and she pauses, though Chloe can sense that there's more the brunette might be willing to tell.

"I'm from, uh, a small town near Atlanta, Georgia, in the States," Beca begins. Chloe can see that her eyes are technically looking at the ocean in front of them, but her mind is miles and miles away.

"When my dad finally came back from the War of the Rebellion, he...just wasn't the same man that left to fight for his beliefs. He nearly always had a bottle of moonshine on him, and he was aggressive towards my mother. He left a few years after he came back and we never heard from him after that. I left home a number of years after that."

Beca's eyes never left the ocean during her soliloquy.

"Are you going home to see your mother?"

Chloe asks the question, fully believing that she won't get an answer. But Beca surprises her when she turns to look at Chloe, at small, sad smile on her face.

"As it happens, that's exactly what I'm planning on doing once we dock."

"CHLOE, DEAREST BEALE!"

Chloe and Beca both whip around to see the source of the commotion that has been raised in Chloe's name.

"Oh my, Amy! It's wonderful to see you!"

Chloe rushes to hug the heavyset woman whose ears and neck drip with diamonds and other flashy gemstones.

"And who might this dashing young lady be," Amy asks, her eyes searching Beca's face and form.

"This is Beca Mitchell, a new acquaintance of mine," Chloe says. "Beca, this is Amy Brown, heiress to Australia's largest railroad fortune."

While Beca extends a common handshake, Amy moves in for a full on hug just as she did with Chloe.

The redhead giggles at the way Beca's eyes bulge and nostrils flare as she's swept up in Amy's bone-squeezing embrace.

"Nice to meet you," Beca sheepishly ventures, once the hug has ended.

"Beca will actually be joining up for dinner tonight, as it were," Chloe remarks, directing the attention back onto herself, hoping that Beca will not be overwhelmed by their overly-personable companion.

"You're a brave one, then," Amy states, making Beca visibly nervous.

"I hope to be a worthy enough companion," Beca answers, puffing her chest out once again, just the way she did the previous night.

"Well, I can tell you it's nothing you need be worried about. A bunch of show dogs with no real skills is what it'll be," Amy answers, clearly amused with the brunette.

Chloe's eyes dart between the two, enjoying the quick banter they've established.

Before she can make a move to interject, Chloe can hear a voice call out to her some ways down the deck.

"Chloe, darling! Chloe, I've been looking for you."

Her eyes don't wander to the source of the voice that she immediately recognizes to be her mother's, but stay on Beca's.

Beca's steely blues are fixated on her, with an expression that reads of mostly of discomfort but also something bordering on watchfulness.

Like she's waiting to see Chloe's reaction to her mother's beckoning.

Her mother appears at her side much sooner than Chloe would like her to, but Beca's expression doesn't waver. It only hardens.

Chloe can see that Beca is expecting the same flagrant disregard from her mother that she was treated with the night before when she'd saved Chloe from an abysmal end. It's a challenging expression, one that Chloe has been estopped from directing towards anyone since her days in primary school.

She holds Beca in the highest regard for facing Evelyn Beale like that.

Her mother gives Amy a short hug that borders on contemptuous, and when her eyes fall on Beca, they give the brunette's outfit another fleeting glance before focusing her stern gaze on Chloe.

"Dinner is in two hours. It's time you join us in the stateroom to prepare."

It's all her mother has to say before Chloe turns to her companions and gives both of them a heavy look, hoping to communicate that she's sorry to have to cut their conversations short.

She walks along the deck for a few moments before turning back, meeting Beca's eyes. She finds them blazing with an intensity that she can't place.

Before long, she is in her suite with her father, mother, and fiancée, all of whom are discussing the latest gossip regarding Jacob Aster and his mistress.

Beca can feel her eyes burning as she watches Chloe's form become smaller and smaller the farther she walks along the ship's deck.

"Ayyy. Shortstack," a voice sounds from beside her.

She doesn't realize that it's the woman Chloe had just introduced her to before she feels a light punch against her bicep.

Aghast, she turns and finds "Amy," staring at her with a face of pure amusement.

"Uh, yes?" Beca asks, dumbfounded.

"You're to be having dinner in first class tonight, aye?"

"Yes, that's the plan," Beca responds suspiciously.

"Well, assuming you're planning to wear the outfit you've got going on right now, there's no damned way you'll even make it into the dining room."

At first, Beca feels indignant at the audacity of Amy's statement, but upon looking down at her rather ragged set of slacks, shirt, and suspenders, she understands where the woman's coming from.

"I've got a little sister who's fifteen years old. I think that the dress I've been meaning to bring her would fit perfectly on your lithe, little frame."

Before Beca can spout of the first objection she can muster, Amy's hand is around her wrist and dragging her towards the inside of the ship and, apparently, towards some teenager's dress.