Prompt: We got snowed in a cabin?

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No Place I'd Rather Be

Four cans of soup. Two cans of beans. A loaf of bread. Half a sack of rice.

Beca stares at their pitiful excuse of sustenance, lips pulled tightly in a grimace as she contemplates the probability of survival. Considering the soup is of the 'diet' variety, and several slices of bread are spotted with green (and thus, relatively inedible), she estimates they have three days - four if they eat around the mold - before they're forced to take drastic measures.

From the corner of her periphery, she watches as Chloe bustles around the kitchen, opening cabinets and rummaging through the barren pantry in search of extra provisions. A simple errand to check on the integrity of her father's vacation lodge, which the Bellas would be borrowing for a holiday get-together the following week, had turned into an extended visit when the weather outside morphed from a light dusting of snow into a full blown blizzard. With their car buried beneath two feet of slush, and the roads iced over, it quickly dawned on the two captains that they would have no other choice but to wait it out. And, with the winter climate as fickle as it was, who knew how long they'd be stuck?

If it comes down to it, Beca thinks she could probably resort to cannibalism. Chloe has nice arms, after all - well toned, with just the barest hint of flab - and human flesh is supposed to taste eerily similar to pork. Or, so she's heard… (not that she'd actually know)

But, she's getting ahead of herself, she muses, and the entire storm could blow over by morning. Though, with her luck in mind, she thinks it'll be at least a day or two before they can safely get moving. Resigning herself to her apparent fate, Beca casts a withering glare at their meager food supply and heads towards the door, bundling up in her jacket and throwing on her hood.

"I'll be back," she says, hand lingering upon the door as she braces for the impending cold. "Don't follow me," she adds as an afterthought.

There's a loud bang, followed by a yelp as Chloe, who is neck deep in the lower cabinet by the sink, jerks upwards in surprise. "Wait, what?" comes her startled cry, hand on her head as she backpedals. "Beca, where are you-..."

Yanking the door, Beca opens it just enough to slip through before slamming it solidly behind her, wanting to keep what little warmth they had inside from escaping. Crossing her arms to conserve body heat, she trudges her way towards the back of the cabin, ignoring the questioning looks and frantic waves that Chloe sends her through the windows. Ducking her head, the DJ grimaces as she's pelted across the face, cheeks quickly numbing in the frigid gusts.

When she reaches her intended destination, she kicks her feet through the snow, sweeping it all to the side as she searches for the door to the cellar. It takes a good minute or two to find, but when the toe of her boot hits something solid, she knows she's struck gold. Dropping to her knees, she bites off her gloves and quickly spins the combination on the lock, fingers shaking as she undoes the latch and throws it open.

Descending quickly into the small, underground room, she fumbles blindly for the switch and sighs audibly with relief as the lights flicker on. Although her father's cabin is linked to the main power grid, the connection is often unreliable in poor weather, and she knows from previous experience that at any moment, they were in danger of losing it. The backup generator would be their only source of electricity if the power were to go out, and with the temperature as low as it is, Beca understands the importance of keeping it on.

As much as she likes to rag on her dad for leaving her and her mom, the college professor had done an impeccable job at instilling a sense of independence in his daughter, and had taken plenty of measures in order to give her the skills and tools necessary to take care of herself. Beca was by no means an engineer, but she knew her way around the mechanics of a car and other household appliances; working a generator was child's play, and she knows she can make any repairs needed, so long as they have the spare parts lying around.

Fortunately, it isn't necessary, and the generator roars to life as she gives it a brief test run. Beca keeps it on for a few extra minutes, giving the parts a chance to warm up after such a lengthy stretch of disuse, and pilfers through the storage shelves, searching for any additional food. By some outlandish stroke of luck, the brunette finds a whole case of beans, and an unopened bottle of rum; and though she wonders why her father finds it necessary to have so many cans of beans (seriously, who needs a twelve pack of kidney beans!?), she isn't about to jinx herself. Thankful to find nourishment, alcohol, and a working generator, Beca leaves the cellar, feeling much better about their situation going out than she did going in.

"Becs, what the hell? Where did you go?" She's met with at the door with a fierce hug, followed by a smack to the arm and a scolding as Chloe berates her for wandering off. "I can't believe you just left me like that!"

"Dude, chill," she says, cringing as she's given a second slap. Kicking off her boots, she carries the cans of food and booze and settles them onto the kitchen counter. "Why are you so worked up? I was gone for like ten minutes."

"Beca, all you said was, 'I'll be back', and then you walked straight into a snowstorm! Who the hell does that?" Chloe exclaims, face painted in incredulity. "Who do you think you are - the Terminator? 'I'll be back'... I'll be back when? Be back from where? I seriously had no idea what you were doing, or where you were going - let alone if you'd even come back. For all I know, you could have frozen to death!"

The younger Bella scoffs, eyes rolling with exasperation, even as her lips twitch into their familiar smirk. "Well, I'm back, and all is well. Sooo…" Beca lets the rest of her sentence trail off, finishing the sentiment with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Chloe isn't particularly pleased by the response, but relents in favor of helping the younger woman shuck off her thick outer coat. "Fine. But just… just don't do that again, okay?" she murmurs, hanging the jacket on a chair to dry. "This weather is unpredictable, and we're so disconnected from the rest of the world right now… I couldn't stand it if something terrible were to happen to you…"

Beca softens beneath the pleading gaze, nodding mutely as she allows the redhead to rub warmth and feeling back into her arms. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she watches fondly as Chloe clasps her hands between her own, massaging her stiff fingers as she breathes hot puffs of air to speed along the process. Her body practically lights itself on fire when, moments later, the older senior presses a tender kiss against her knuckles before releasing them, and she's quick to shove her hands into her pockets to "keep them warm".

Hiding her awkward discomfort behind a cough, Beca clears her throat loudly and side steps the ginger, shuffling her way towards the fireplace to get one going. Luckily, the cabin is well stocked with wood, and as she sets the logs in the hearth, she instructs Chloe to gather all the blankets she can find.

"We'll sleep in here," she explains, reaching for the box of matches sat atop the mantle. "The power isn't exactly reliable, and I don't want to depend too much on the backup in case of emergency. The fire will be enough to keep the front room and kitchen warm, so we don't have to rely too heavily on the heating. We have sleeping bags in the bedroom, and spare blankets in the closet… you can take the couch, and I'll take the floor."

"Technically, this is kind of 'your' house," Chloe argues, as she works her way into the cabin's single bedroom. "You should get the couch."

"Yeah, well by that logic, you are a guest at my house," she replies, fanning the now fledgling flames as she works it into a blaze. "And as a good host, it's only proper I let you have the couch."

"Since when have you cared about what's proper?"

Beca feigns offence. "Since always…"

"Liar," Chloe declares, chucking a pillow at the smaller woman as she returns to the room, arms laden with bedding. "We'll share then," she decides, laying out the blankets. "It's big enough for the both of us, and we can keep each other warm. Besides, it's not as if we haven't slept together before."

Beca has to remind herself that Chloe means it in the most innocent way possible, that they're simply two friends who've shared a bed on several (many) occasions in the past. Even then, it doesn't stop her cheeks from flaring, and she's thankful for the fire's glow that hides her blush, because thoughts (and feelings) like this have become far too common as of late.

"Fine," she grumbles, putting far too much emphasis on the word to be anything but. "Anyway, uh… we've got an old radio hanging around here somewhere. I'm gonna see if I can find it, maybe scrounge up some spare batteries just in case… hopefully then we can find some news on the forecast."

Chloe nods, and the two set about their separate tasks, trying to make their unintended stay just a little more comfortable. Beca eventually finds the radio she's searching for, and after fiddling with the dial for a good five or so minutes, she's able to tune into a weather report. To their relief, the brunt of the storm is said to have passed, and that by mid-morning tomorrow, road crews would have the main highway back in order.

So, maybe they aren't completely stranded after all…

"Oh, thank god," Beca sighs, as she switches it off. "I don't know about you, but I definitely wasn't looking forward to living off canned beans for the next few days."

"Me neither. I never wanted to say anything before, but… you get kind of gassy," Chloe teases, smirking as she dances away from the retaliatory slap. From there, it descends into a playful game of cat and mouse, Beca fighting back her shrieks of glee as she chases the fleeing redhead, skirting around furniture and hopping over chairs.

Eventually, she corners the evasive Bella, and with a triumphant "gotcha!" loops her arms around her. With strength that beguiles her size, Beca lifts the squirming captain and tosses her onto their makeshift bed, falling atop her as Chloe squeals with laughter. Beca buries her face against the crook of her neck, hiding her smug grin as the older woman wraps her own arms around her, engulfing her in warm embrace.

"I'm glad it's you," she confesses, as they lay there entwined, taking a moment to catch their breath.

Beca, confused by the statement, lifts her head and stares curiously down at the woman below her. "You're glad it's me what?" she asks, brows furrowed with confusion.

"If I have to be stuck in a cabin, in the middle of winter, with nowhere to go," Chloe explains, hands toying with long, brown curls, "I'm glad I'm stuck with you… maybe even a little grateful."

"Grateful?"

She nods, smiling gently at the way Beca subconsciously leans into her touch. "You've just been really… checked out lately," she muses, shrugging somewhat unsurely. "It's like I never see you anymore, and even when you're there, you're… not. So yeah, I guess maybe I'm a little grateful that you're here with me now."

Chloe chews her lip thoughtfully, before adding quietly, "I've missed you…"

Guilt swells in her chest, a physical ache that clenches at her heart; it's nearly three months into her internship, and Beca thinks that maybe she's been so scared of somehow disappointing Chloe, she never realized that that was what she was doing all along. Which is stupid, she now understands, because even as stressed as the redhead is, as much as she worries over Worlds, DSM, and Russian Lit, she's still inherently Chloe, and Chloe would never resent her for pursuing her dreams.

"I'm such an idiot," she breathes, chuckling at the way it makes Chloe's head quirk. "I'll tell you later," she promises, and she means it. They'll have plenty to talk about on the car ride back, but for now, Beca wants to enjoy this brief reprieve; this moment frozen in time; a wintery night, cuddled before the fire with her best friend (and the girl she's not quite ready to admit she might love), without all the pressures of the outside world bearing down on their shoulders.

"But I'm glad it's me too," Beca grins.

Because there's no other place she'd rather be than here.