Beca woke up hungry. But then again, there wasn't often a morning where Beca didn't wake up hungry. As she blinked her eyes hard to adjust to the light of the room, her stomach clenched in hunger, letting out a rumble at the same time Beca let out a sigh of annoyance at having to be awake. She laid in bed, wrapped up in blankets and staring at the ceiling for a while before the overwhelming feeling of hunger took over and all she could think about was the leftover lasagna in the fridge that Ashley had made last night.

With a huff of annoyance at the fact that she'd have to travel two flights of stairs, Beca swung her legs out of bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. She checked the time on her phone, the display lighting up with a picture of her, Stacie, Aubrey and Chloe from Thanksgiving as well as the time, which read 09:12. That was approximately an hour and a half too early for Beca, who had no classes and no reason to be out of the warmth of her sheets before 11 at least. She thought about retreating back into the duvet but her stomach cried out in hunger deciding her fate.

Beca stood from the bed, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn. She adjusted her hair on top of her head, knowing full well it would look a mess but it was at least out of her eyes. It was a Thursday so she knew that the rest of the Bellas were probably out of the house anyway; Jessica, Ashley, Stacie and Cynthia Rose at class, Flo at her job, Chloe visiting Aubrey, Fat Amy out with one (or several) of her boyfriends and Lily- well, who ever knew where Lily was when she wasn't in the house?

Beca usually capitalised Thursday's for having a lie in, mixing all day uninterrupted and eating garbage food with none of the other Bellas judging until they all arrived back in dribs and drabs in the late afternoon.

And that was exactly how she planned on spending this Thursday. Starting with a slice of lasagna for breakfast (yes breakfast, she was Beca Mitchell on a day off with nobody to stop her and she would eat lasagna for breakfast if she wanted to) and then trashy daytime TV for a while. Beca pulled on a pair of sweats and a thin dark green jumper over her head, getting fully prepared for her weekly lazy day. She made a pit stop at the bathroom on the way down the stairs, hearing no movement in the Bella house as she peed. After washing her hands and managing the last thirteen stairs as well as the short walk through the living room, Beca walked into the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she walked to the kettle, flicking the switch to boil some water for a coffee, before making a sleepy stumble to the fridge.

Beca swung the doors open and her eyes were scanning the fridge shelves for her slice of lasagna when she heard a small noise come from the kitchen island. Beca stopped her shuffling of bottles and froze. She straightened slowly, her ears straining to catch another noise. She waited a moment before the noise sounded again. It was a… hiccup?

Beca span on her bare heels to face the centre of the room, a milk bottle in hand as a (fairly useless but DIY) weapon, her other hand in a lame ninja pose to make her look more threatening. Her eyes scanned the room quickly before landing on something even more unexpected than a hiccuping robber or axe murderer.

There, sat in a high chair (when had they EVER had a high chair, Beca would come to wonder when she recovered from the shock) was a small person. Like a whole tiny person that Beca judged to be about 8 months from the small teeth and chubby arms. Beca blinked at the baby, not quite knowing what to think. Then the baby giggled at her and she yelped in surprise, dropping the milk onto the floor. The lid flew off and milk splattered everywhere, all over Beca's bare toes. She yelped in surprise again and once again the baby laughed at her. Beca hopped over the milk spill over to the infant in the high chair and crouched the (very short) height distance to bring her nose to nose with the baby who smiled a gummy smile at her. One of the tiny hands reached out as the baby garbled some unintelligible noise and Beca instinctively held out a finger for the baby to grip onto.

"Hey little… Um…" Beca trailed off, her eyes scanning over the blue baby grow and socks the baby sat in.

"Little guy. I'm gonna go with guy. I know, I know, gender stereotypes and all that, but I'm working blind here." Beca spoke bluntly to the little boy in the highchair as his hand curled around her index finger. She had never had come into wilful contact with any baby in her lifetime, so she was working blind in more ways than one. She patted her pocket with her free hand for her phone before realising it was still upstairs where she had left it charging.

"Shit." She swore before her eyes widened and she stumbled a correction.

"I mean, shoot. Damn it- I mean darn it!" Beca fumbled, the baby just staring at her with wide blue eyes, as she cursed. Beca clamped her mouth shut, thinking that better than continually swearing at the tiny boy. There was a second of silence before the boy giggled again, making the corners of Beca's lips quirk up at his tiny giggle.

If you were to ask Beca, she would tell you that "all babies look like sacks of potatoes" because they sort of did. Lumpy, useless and heavy. But as she crouched in front of the mysterious baby in the high chair she couldn't help but admit he was pretty cute. He had blonde wispy hair and bright blue eyes that contrasted with his pink chubby cheeks. His grin, although dribble filled, had five or so small white teeth poking out and his laugh was just on the right side of loud that it didn't make Beca cringe as he giggled. Instead she chuckled at the boy, who took to playing with the girls fingers, twisting and turning them and laughing when Beca wiggled them at him. He tugged on the sleeve of Beca's jumper and pulled at it and for some reason, the movement reminded Beca that she was stood in the kitchen with a baby. Like a baby that shouldn't be there.

She started to panic. There was a baby in the kitchen. A baby. In the kitchen. With her. Beca Mitchell, the least maternal person going. She began to pace the kitchen floor, slipping slightly and grabbing the counter when her bare feet ran over the rapidly warming milk that pooled across the tile.

"Oh my god, oh my god, what do I do? What am I gonna do?" she muttered before turning to the highchair again, putting her hands on the plastic tray attached to the small chair.

"What are WE gonna do?" Beca stared into cerulean eyes framed with light blonde eyelashes. What a day for Beca to be home alone, she thought, handing the infant a satsuma he kept reaching for at the end of his small plastic high chair tray. He instantly began to play with the small fruit as Beca sighed deeply in an attempt to calm herself down. This was not how she pictured her day going. She chewed her lip as she observed the way the satsuma bounced off the raised sides of the tray, making the boy laugh happily, whilst she formulated a plan. She needed assistance. Preferably in the form of a Bella but she was already considering calling Jesse or even Benji at this point. The boys were useless at taking care of their houseplants, so she didn't even want to imagine what they'd be like if handed a baby.

Damn it, where was Jessica and her insane natural mothering instincts or Stacie and her three years babysitting experience or Flo and her time of raising her siblings when she needed them?! She'd even take Fat Amy's help right now- maybe her claims that she'd hand raised pigs and koalas simultaneously would aid the situation.

Seeing that the boy was so preoccupied playing with the fruit, trying his hardest to pierce the orange peel with his tiny fingernails, Beca decided she would run upstairs and try and source some help or at the very least grab her phone. She backed away slowly, trying not to make any noise so the boy would look up from his distraction, and cringed as her bare feet made noise because of the pool of milk she was walking through. The baby carried on playing with the satsuma (simple minds, Beca thought) and Beca made it through the archway to the living room undetected. And so she turned on slippery heels and sprinted towards the stairs.

Even with stupid Bella cardio that Chloe still insisted on doing, Beca was breathing heavily as she got upstairs to her room.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Beca gasped, bending over and grabbing her knees, seeing spots forming in her vision. She really needed to up her cardio as opposed to keep eating pasta dishes for breakfast, she thought briefly before shaking the thought of joining the Bellas on a early morning run out of her mind with a shudder.

She went over to her bedside table, grabbing her phone and putting it into the pocket of her sweatpants before she took a sigh and tried to formulate a plan in her chaotic head. There was a baby abandoned in the kitchen downstairs. All she had at her disposal was a slice of lasagna and a few bottles of green juice. She had no diapers, no formula, no maternal instincts and most of all, she thought, no hope.

No. Beca straightened, puffing her chest out and rolling her sleeves up. I can do this, Beca nodded to herself, I'm Beca effin Mitchell and I'm not going to let a dribbling lump of infant defeat me, not today.

And with her new found confidence (she was attempting to channel Vin Diesel in the Pacifier but it came off slightly more Mrs Doubtfire, Beca reluctantly admitted to herself) she turned back round and walked down the stairs to start her slightly less lazy Thursday.