Author's Note: Hey! So, I was looking back on this story and saw the reviews and that someone wanted me to do a reconciliation one-shot - I had wanted to write one about the two of them getting back together after their break up back when I was invested in writing this story, but never really came back to it until now.

So, to that one person, if you're still reading or waiting for it, here it is and sorry it took so long and to anyone else who has an active presence in this dying (dead?) fandom/couple – here you go!

This takes place directly after the third movie ends.

"Bec?"

Beca nearly whipped around. She saw Chloe and the smoking hot marine in that same passionate lip-lock they'd been in for however long now – Jesus dude, don't you guys like, I don't know, need to breathe? – she thought, admittedly a little bitter because damn did she miss getting kissed like that.

The only person who ever made her feel all that stupid, cliché, girly shit – like when her feet don't touch the ground and her fingers tingle as they touch his face, his cheeks, his jaw, his chest, was him.

Honestly, the day after they broke up, she realized something. She also realized that she had too much pride and lived solely to keep it intact, and for that reason, her realization, that this man, this stupid, annoying, cheesy, amazing, sweet, loving asshole was her great can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of love.

But, as she mentioned before, her pride got in the way of that. And then by the time she'd gotten over it, was ready to grovel at his feet, he had met someone else. Figures.

"Bec."

There was that voice again. Less of a question. It sounded so much like that voice, his voice, that she nearly shivered. She touched Theo's shoulder gently.

"Hey, did you – "

He shook his head. "Nope. Wasn't me."

Gesturing to a little ways ahead of them, he kind of smiled. It seemed like he was making eye contact with someone, not someone she could see, anyways. Weirdo.

"Hey, who are you – "

Suddenly, she saw it. Him. She saw him. He was giving her this look and his hands were splayed palm up in front of him. He looked the same. But different. The same, but different. Yeah.

"Bec, are you kidding me? Who else would it be? I'm the only other person to call you that, other than your dad, and what would your dad be doing here? Not that I keep up with your family's whereabouts or anything, but he's in Montecito for the weekend. Or yours. I clearly don't keep up with yours, either."

He smirked at her.

He seemed older, more mature, there was a five-o-clock shadow a little more than friendly with his jaw and his shoulders were broader, more muscular. It wasn't something she was ready to complain about, and another thing that she was most definetly not ready for was how her body was going to react to seeing him again.

Her brain had quit the second she saw him, but the rest of her was living for him to do something, anything – put his hand on her shoulder, her arm, her – holy Christ he was so close to her, and there was his hand, reaching gingerly, carefully, to rest on her face. Fuck. Me. Up. Hey, Swanson? It's just like old times, isn't it?

It's what she wanted to say. Instead, she reached out her hand and rested it on his cheek, blinked slowly, but not seductively, yet anyways, up at him. Words were not her friend right now. She swallowed. Her throat was too dry.

"Jess…"

"Bec…" he said back, in the same tone she was using. Quiet. Soft. Reverent. "Bec, I miss you."

She laughed. Uh oh. Here it comes. Mushy moments were so not her thing. And so, she compensates, the other way.

"Isn't this your big moment? Think long and hard about what you're going to say here, Swanson. You've lived for this. The college kid you were is in the wings, hoping you won't choke. Lay it on me, baby. Your big, romantic speech in the last five minutes that makes me take you back. I'm waiting."

She acts like a dick. Or, well, she tries to flirt but a lot of the time, as Jesse has told her, she usually just sounds like a dick.

He just stared at her. For far too long. It was getting creepy. It was like she had died and then come back to life and he just could not fucking believe it.

And then, he kissed her. He folded her in his arms, and she felt her feet leave the ground – actually though, because as much as she hates to admit it, she's really tiny and it happens a lot – but this time, it also felt a lot like a fantasy. Bleh. She said it.

She grinned into his mouth as their tongues met. But she didn't regret it.

"Okay, I knew it! I knew the jack hole had something big planned and he was just waiting for the right moment to strike! Respect, Jesse boy. Respect."

That was Amy.

"Woah, what the heck is going on here!?"

That was Chloe. She was probably looking at the two of them with this mix of a weird fascination and surprise.

That girl loved a good kiss. And maybe she was a little jealous. Of Jesse. Obviously. Beca wasn't blind, and yeah, she was also one hot piece of ass. Anybody would be lucky to have her.

But right now, she gripped tighter onto Jesse's shoulders, nobody else could.

"I think I still love you," she whispered to him when they finally broke apart.

He rose his eyebrow with a smile. "Oh yeah?" He lifted her chin and leaned in to kiss her again. But he stopped when their lips were just shy of touching. "Well, I know that I still love you."

When they kissed again, she sunk into it and let herself become disgusting mush in his hands as he held her face, so gentle and cautious that he was practically cradling it – ugh. But damn her because it felt so good.

"Wait," she cut him off before he could talk, but by the way he was coming towards her again it was probably safe to say that he wasn't planning on doing much talking. She placed a hand against his chest, stopping him. "Is it too late to change my previous answer?"

He grinned at her and it was so genuine and so wholesome and pure that it reminded her of Benji of all people and it made her heart twist, but then he winked, and he was all Jesse again. And her heart basically exploded into a thousand, tiny pieces. But she was happy. So happy. Fuckin A.

"Beca Mitchell…"

For a startling moment, she thought he was going to propose. Or say no. Sure, that was an option too. It was too big of a pause. Too long. It was practically ten centimetres dilated. Pregnant pause. She was sure he'd laugh at that one, later. If he didn't break her heart, first, obviously.

"It's never too late."

From somewhere around their vicinity, there was clapping, and some whistling, and even before Amy yelled 'go Shawshank – you get your man! – she'd known the source of it. The woman lived to embarrass the shit out of her.

Beca looked up at Jesse again. She saw the love there. It was so bright, so strong and so obvious in every sense of the word, that she knew that the love he had for her, it had never gone away in the first place.

And she was certain, absolutely certain, certain like she hadn't been about anything in her life for a long, fucking time, that the look in her eyes was the same. Because she never stopped loving him either. And she never would. That was something she could take solace in for the rest of her life.