Hey there. Apologies for the slight delay. Thanks for sticking with this fic and to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed it. All are much appreciated.

Shout-outs to last chapters reviewers: BecaBeale, xcombixgirlx, Phoebex13 and the three guest reviewers. Thank you so much for taking the time and I'm glad you enjoyed.

Enjoy this chapter and I hope you have a good day/night where ever you may be.

A week later you've come to one conclusion and one conclusion only.

Your parents are absolute idiots.

And maybe you're being unfair because you have the benefit of foresight and all that jazz, but still, they're both so blind. It is beyond frustrating.

You've been observing/stalking them in an entirely surreptitious, non-creepy way all week and you just don't understand how they're seemingly oblivious to the fact that they act exactly like the married couple they are set to become in just a few short years from now.

You've been mentally cataloguing every single time they so much as breathe around each other and considering your Ma's new incredibly busy schedule, that doesn't happen nearly as much as you would like. But that doesn't mean you haven't been left with a plethora of material to work with that fully supports the hypothesis that your mothers belong together in any given place, at any given time and in any given reality.

Exhibit A:

You're sitting at the kitchen counter struggling to get to grips with the new phone you'd been forced by necessity to invest in yesterday (what the hell is 3G?), when your Ma hurries into the kitchen with your Mom hot on her heels.

You freeze instantly, your shoulders hunched and your head down, hoping that if you stay deadly still they won't notice you. It seems to work as neither of them pay you any mind. You feel like you're one of those people who film nature documentaries and have been waiting for years to film the last two white rhinos left in the wild in their natural habitat and they've just come waltzing in when you were least prepared.

Or maybe you're being ridiculous. You've been known to get carried away sometimes.

"I don't have time, Chloe."

"You need to eat properly, Beca."

Your Ma huffs and carries on rooting through a cupboard as your Mom clicks her tongue irritably and starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

"I do eat properly." Ma replies, letting out a triumphant sound as she pulls a bag of squashed Haribo from the back of the cupboard. "Aha! Amy didn't get to all of them."

"That is not lunch." Mom rolls her eyes as she begins to butter two slices of bread.

"Not all of us are willing to survive solely on a diet of spinach and corn on the cob."

Your Mom does eat a ridiculous amount of corn on the cob. And she does try and sneak spinach into absolutely everything. Including the turkey sandwich she's currently putting together.

"Well you literally can't survive on a diet of Haribo and Doritos." Your Mom admonishes.

"I think you'll find that I'm giving it a pretty good shot." Your Ma retorts smartly, stuffing the sweets into her bag. "Chlo, I've really gotta go. I'm gonna be late."

"Since when are you in such a rush to get to class anyway?"

You'd guess probably around the time she started going to a top secret internship instead.

"Since I actually want to get enough credits to graduate."

Your Mom's sandwich-making frenzy stills for a moment at the utterance of the dreaded 'G' word but she brushes it aside and finishes wrapping the turkey sandwich in cling film before passing it to Ma, who rolls her eyes but takes it with her regardless.

"See you later!" Your Mom calls to her as she rushes out of the door with a muttered 'yep'.

Her head suddenly pops back into view.

"And Chloe?"

Your Mom's head snaps up from where's she wiping some bread crumbs off the counter.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Your Ma raises the sandwich and gives her a small but affectionate smile. "See you tonight."

The door slams a second later and you turn back to face your Mom who is grinning like a total dork.

It's a scene you must have watched a thousand times. The old 'Ma sneakily pretends she's only going to eat sweets for lunch to get Mom to make it for her' trick.

They're married already and they don't even know it.

Idiots.

Exhibit B:

"Beca!"

You're lying on your bed playing a game on your phone called Angry Birds (you're not sure why the birds are so angry but it's seriously addictive), when you hear your Mom's voice echo through the house. You're immediately on your feet and edging towards the door because you're like a bloodhound on the trail at the first sign of any possible interaction between your parents, no matter how small.

"What?!" Your Ma yells back and you're pretty sure that she's in her room and your Mom is somewhere downstairs from the volume they are yelling at.

"My laptop won't turn on! Will you come and look at it?"

"Will you two stop yelling, I'm on the phone!"

"Sorry Stace!"

You hear the door to the attic room creak open and your Mom come thundering down the stairs. For a petite woman she's always been very heavy-footed. You creep stealthily from your own room (because unlike your Ma, you're basically a ninja) and glide along the carpeted landing until you're lurking at the top of the stairs and can hear them talking in the living room.

"What do you mean it won't turn on?"

"It ran out of charge so I plugged it in but now it won't turn back on." Your Mom sounds frantic. "Please fix it. I've just written half of my Russian Lit essay on there."

"Oh shit." Your Ma's tone is teasing. "The curse of the Russian Lit strikes again."

You hear a faint slapping sound and your Ma lets out a little yelp.

"Just help me!"

"Alright, alright, jeez. Do ya have to be so abusive?"

"You'll find out the answer to that question if you don't fix my laptop."

"I'm not sure I'm going to be able to fix this Chlo." Your Ma says in a grim tone. "This is a serious problem."

"Oh my God! Are you serious? What am I going to do? Beca, I can't write that essay again, I just can't! It's taken me ages! And I don't have the money to get a new laptop! Oh my God...Why are you laughing?!"

Your Mom sounds close to tears but you can hear your Ma starting to crack up to the point where she's laughing hysterically.

"Beca! I swear to God!"

"Like I said, a serious problem." Your Ma tries to catch her breath. "It's called not turning the charger on at the wall."

You hear a faint click and can imagine quite clearly how smug your Ma looks right about now. Your Mom has never been particularly technologically savvy. As technology has advanced she's just become more and more lost. She's the only person you know who still owns a typewriter; most of your friends don't even know what one is. Whereas your Ma has always been into her gadgets and gizmos, using all the latest tech at work on a daily basis.

"Beca, you bitch! I'm gonna kill you!"

"C'mon Chlo. Let's be reasonable here. I fixed it for you didn't-"

Whatever your Ma was about to say next is cut off by the loud squeak she makes as she is clearly ambushed.

Now this you have to see.

Unfortunately, as you try to stealthily hunker down to look between the slats in the bannister the phone clutched in your hand makes a successful bid for freedom and also makes a decidedly moment-ruining 'thunk' on every step down.

You dash after it, snatching it up and sliding it into your back pocket as though it will cause less offence if out of sight. Your mothers are both staring at you in with varying degrees of surprise, amusement and arched, questioning eyebrows.

"Oh look, I dropped my phone. Silly me. I'm such a butterfingers sometimes. Just coming downstairs to get a thing from the kitchen. Like a snack type thing. Also known as just a snack. From the kitchen. Bye now."

So you could have played it cooler.

"She's so weird." You hear your Ma whisper to your Mom as you make your escape to the kitchen to grab a thing/snack, cursing yourself the whole way.

Maybe you're still working on that whole ninja thing.

Exhibit C:

You're curled up on the couch, scribbling thoughts down in your brand new songwriting journal (turns out going back in time to save your parents marriage is excellent lyric fodder; now if only you could find an appropriate word that rhymes with time machine), when the front door opens. To your immense surprise, the two people that enter are your aforementioned parents. Unfortunately for you (and them), they haven't been spending a lot of one-on-one time with each other lately, what with Ma's top secret internship and the small fact that apparently she's currently someone else's girlfriend or whatever.

"Thanks for the ride." Your Ma is saying as she pulls off her boots.

"I should be the one thanking you considering you wouldn't let me drive back." You can't see your Mom's face but you can tell she's rolling her eyes.

"It was raining Chlo." Your Ma shrugs lightly. "And you have absolutely no concept of breaking distance."

"I totes do!" Your Mom gasps in mock offence. "I just choose to ignore it."

"Hence why I'm not getting into a car with you behind the wheel in torrential rain. Ever."

"Rude. I'm never picking you up again."

"Whatever you say Beale." Ma shrugs again, not believing her for a second.

"Ugh, fine." Your Mom concedes. "Hey, what are you up to this evening?"

"I'm heading over to Jesse's in a bit. It's movie night or whatever."

You're not sure if that's actually true or if this is just another lame 'internship cover story'.

"Oh."

From your position, covertly flickering your eyes between them and the messy scribbles on the page below you in case they look up and catch you gawping, you can see your Mom's shoulders deflate slightly.

"He knows you hate movies right?"

"Yeah, but he loves them." Your Ma makes a 'what ya gonna do' gesture with the hand not clutching her bag. "What? Did you have 'The Bellas take on the World' plans tonight or something?"

"No, actually." Your Mom nudges the floor with her toe, uncharacteristically subdued. "I was just going to invite you to watch some trashy reality TV with me. I feel like we haven't really hung out for a while."

Your Ma bites her lip guiltily and you roll your eyes at her.

Just tell her about the internship you dummy.

"I know. I'm sorry." Is what she says instead. "I'll make it up to you okay? Sometime this week?"

"Okay." Your Mom agrees quietly but you can tell she's still upset.

"What are we watching anyway?" Your Ma nudges her lightly, trying to add some levity to the weird, unsettling atmosphere that's formed between them.

"RuPaul's Drag Race?"

"Ugh, no fair. You know I love that shit. You better not start season six without me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Sweet." Your Ma grins at her and you roll your eyes again, because she still says ridiculous things like 'sweet' and 'dude' in the future. If you'd let something like that slip out of your mouth when you were at school, you would have been mocked for weeks. More than you already were for being a drama and choir geek anyway. "It's a date. I'll bring snacks."

"Of course you will." Mom laughs lightly and Ma gasps in an exaggerated manner and rests her hands on her stomach defensively.

"Excuse you? Are you trying to imply something?"

"You said it, not me." Mom jabs the spot on her stomach not covered by her hands teasingly and Ma jumps back.

"Now who's the rude one?

She points at Mom faux threateningly and begins to head for the staircase, finally noticing that you're sat on the couch as she passes you. "Hey Legacy." She pats the top of your head lightly as she sweeps past.

"Hey." You choke out because that's the first time she's deliberately touched you since you got here and you're feeling suddenly rather over-emotional. You're trying to play it cool though because she'll just think you're really weird and never speak to you again if you burst into tears and jump up and hug her like you really want to right now.

So you take some deep, calming breaths and watch as she thunders up the stairs like a small elephant.

You turn your attention back to your other mother and see her still staring wistfully at the staircase. You wish you could help her more. You wish that you could just tell her that you know that everything will work out okay and that she should just tell your Ma how she feels.

But you can't. You know you can't risk altering the timeline of events too much, or more than you being here already has. You're just here to make sure that everything runs smoothly and nothing intervenes in your parents big moment. Like your crazy, time-travelling, sandwich enthusiast of an Aunt for example.

It doesn't make the obvious moon eyes your Mom keeps throwing your Ma's way any less painful to watch though.

And it doesn't make your Ma's blatant obliviousness to said moon eyes any less frustrating.

Idiots. Complete idiots.

Need you go on?

They're more conspicuous than the box of frogs Aunt Lilly keeps in your room. Although you hadn't actually noticed the box of frogs until one had escaped and you'd found it in your shoe so maybe that's not the best comparison to use.

Anyway, that's not important.

What is important is that you need to continue your excellent espionage skills.

Like seriously, maybe you've found your calling. Emily Beale-Mitchell: World's coolest super-spy. Just saying.

You're currently sat in the living room in preparation for a Bella movie night. You haven't had one since that first night in the Bella house because Mom insisted that you should all be present and Ma hasn't been around and Aunt Amy keeps 'mysteriously' disappearing at night time.

Ma had promised that she'd be home from 'Jesse's' in time tonight though but she's yet to show up. Your Mom, Auntie Rose and Aunt Flo are in the kitchen preparing snacks and you're sat in the living room with Aunt Amy, Aunt Stacie, Jessica and Ashley. You have no idea where Aunt Lilly is. Probably down in the basement tinkering with the time machine.

Aunt Stacie's sat next to you going through a stack of photo albums that her and Mom had compiled over the last few years of pictures taken at various Bella competitions and social events. You've seen a lot of these before considering the majority of these very albums are slotted into the living room bookcase in your house back home.

Aunt Stacie flicks over the page and a picture you've never seen before catches your eye immediately. It's a close up of your parents celebrating on stage, Ma wrapped up in your Mom's arms like she was born to be there, Mom's cheek resting on top of her head, eyes closed and grinning like she could quite happily stay like that forever.

So you may be a bit of a hopeless romantic.

Sue me.

You look at the photo for a long moment, an ingeniously evil plan formulating in the part of your brain that's reserved for only your best laid schemes. You're not really the scheming type so it's a little rusty from lack of exercise but you're pretty sure this plan is brilliant.

Now you just need to make sure the execution is as perfect as the theory. You knew that ten years of drama school would count for something. They were all in preparation for this very moment.

"So..." You start casually, tapping a finger just below the picture of your parents being oh so platonic. "When did Beca and Chloe start dating? Before or after you won Nationals for the first time?"

Four sets of eyes immediately widen in your direction.

Nailed it.

"They're so cute together." You turn your attention towards Aunt Stacie to see the beginnings of a smirk just starting to form on her surprised face.

"You are seriously the most stupid person I've ever met."

Of course it's Aunt Amy who chimes in first.

"What? Why?"

Your voice is the perfect blend of 'oh no, did I say something wrong?' and 'you just hurt my poor, innocent, ignorant feelings'. God, you're good. You're not one to boast but there is a reason that you won your drama school's 'most convincing sad face' award four years in a row.

"Give her a break, Amy." Aunt Stacie nudges her. "You can't blame the kid for thinking it."

"Thinking what?"

"Chloe and Beca aren't together, Em."

"They're not?" You feign immense surprise and duck your head in faux embarrassment at being so terribly mistaken. "I thought...they just seem..."

You're so going to get that EGOT one day. As well as being a super-spy. The future is looking bright.

"We know." Jessica reaches out and pats you comfortingly on the forearm. "It's an easy mistake to make. They're just very good friends."

"Very good friends." Aunt Amy waggles her eyebrows at you. And ew. You don't appreciate that suggestion at all.

But needs must.

"Oh. So they...?"

"No Legacy." Aunt Stacie shoots Aunt Amy a look. "Stop confusing her. Beca is dating Jesse, Em."

Your look of complete shock is more than easy to feign this time because that little tidbit of information never fails to surprise (and horrify) you every time you think about it.

"I know." Aunt Amy seems to agree with your sentiment as she wrinkles her nose in distaste. "I've been trying to hypnotise her into ditching that cabbage patch kid in her sleep, but she's such a stubborn little git."

"Amy! You're not supposed to intervene. It's Beca's business, she can do whatever she wants." Ashley admonishes her.

"That girl wouldn't know what she wanted if it was tattooed on her titties. It's tragic." And you could have done without that imagery thank you. "And I've got a hundred bucks riding on this shit. If those two drongos don't diddle each other down under," Oh dear god. "before Christmas, that's like twenty trips to Taco Bell down the tubes. I mean, most of that I nicked out of Beca's purse anyway, but still."

Ah. So there is a bet.

"So yeah," Aunt Stacie shakes her head at Amy and turns to you. "Sorry to ruin the inspiration for your lesbian erotic novel, but those two are strictly at pressed lemon status."

This plan is starting to feel less and less ingenious. You may have gained valuable intel but you really could have done without phrases like 'diddle each other down under' and 'lesbian erotic novel' being thrown around in reference to your parents. Although you don't know what you were expecting from a conversation with Aunt Amy and Aunt Stacie involved.

"Speak to CR if you want in on that bet though, she's the bookie. We've got a pretty good pool going. It's anybody's game."

"I still don't think it was a good idea to let a recovering gambling addict have access to all that cash." Jessica worries her lip between her teeth.

"She just likes to lie in it occasionally. It's like immersion therapy for her." Aunt Stacie reassures her with a light flap of her hand. "And no one knows how to run a tighter bet than Cynthia Rose."

"What bet?"

You all swivel towards the doorway where your Mom is standing with Aunt Flo, both holding bowls full of popcorn and cheese puffs.

"Um, just a bet about how many of the swimming club guys I can get with in one night." Aunt Stacie covers relatively smoothly. "You want in?"

"No thanks." Your Mom shakes her head in amusement. "Just be safe and make sure none of them get weird and start hanging around outside the house again. I don't want any distractions. We all need to be focused on Worlds."

"Cool it, Chloe." Aunt Amy tells her. "Hey, you'll never guess the gem that Legacy just came out with. She just asked if -."

You have no idea how but suddenly Aunt Lilly is there with a pillow in her hand, a pillow that she just used to smack Aunt Amy across the face with and cut her sentence mercifully short.

"Ow! Lilly?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Aunt Amy grabs the pillow from her and tries to smack her with it but Aunt Lilly easily slides to the side and it ends up smacking Aunt Stacie in the face instead.

"Ouch!"

"Pillow fight!" Aunt Flo yells, putting the bowls down on the table and dashing up the stairs to grab every pillow she can find.

Thank God. Your Mom finding out that you fake thought that her and Ma were a couple was not part of your plan. You don't want to freak her out and make her feel awkward around you. That and you don't want her to get suspicious of the fact that every time they interact you always randomly seem to be in the vicinity like you have some weird obsession with them or something. Which you so don't. You just have a perfectly normal vested interest, you know, considering you're their daughter and all.

Aunt Lilly winks at you from across the room and you smile at her gratefully before Aunt Amy forces a pillow into your hands and smacks you across the head with the one she's already holding.

A fully fledged pillow fight breaks out and you have to admit you're having a lot of fun. You understand completely why your parents always speak so fondly of their time in the Bellas and why they're still so close to the others in spite of various distances between them. There's just something special about the bond that exists here. You suppose acapella does that to people. It's a magical thing. It's a shame you'll never truly get to experience being a Bella in your own right.

By the time your Ma arrives two pillows have burst, Aunt Amy's knocked over a lamp and there are cheese puffs all over the floor.

"You know this sets women back, like thirty years, right?" She says, donned in some fancy red. blazer come jacket that she would never wear in your time.

"We're relieving some stress." Your Mom tells her.

"This was on the porch."

Your Mom jumps down from the couch and moves to stand in front of her.

"Oooh, what is that? It looks fancy."

Your Mom reaches out and takes the patterned envelope from Ma's hands. She opens the envelope, promptly snaps it shut in surprise when it begins to sing, and then opens it out fully.

"Whoa, looks like we've been invited to some kind of party."

"We're going to sing?!" It's out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, which is a common problem for you. "Finally!"

You just really like to sing, okay?

With the prospect of your lifelong dream of being able to sing with the Bellas becoming a reality and the new found knowledge that you definitely have plenty of allies in the fight to make sure your parents end up together you're positively beaming. Watching your parents playfully smacking each other with the couch cushions in a world of their own doesn't hurt your good mood either.

You could have done without Aunt Lilly revealing that thing about all her teeth being from different people though.

But beggars can't be choosers.

Thank you for reading :)