HER FEET PRESS roughly against the glistening pavement, breath short as the cold nipping air bit at Beca's fingertips. It was shocking to her whole body, her throat sharply damaged as sweat collected close to a heaving chest. Nothing about the chase was a chore for the young brunette though.

The man was just a silhouette in front of her was slinking like a cat morphed from the shadows. He was meant for this- a hired man paid to keep secrets and steal them from other people. It made him good at his job, but not fast. Not fast enough to outrun the little bodyguard that struggled to keep her nose from running.

Air moved against a silken sky, feet echoing off of alleyways as the sounds of faraway sirens bounced off of her ears- mouth dry but not impossible. Despite the chill that lies in the air, she felt a deep heat buildup along her core, a fire that licked and prodded close to her fingertips as the man in front of her skidded to a stop, breath uneven and heaving.

He reminded Beca of an eel. His hair was slicked back and shirt sweat-stained, the man close to twice the size of his pursuer. He was clutching the documents like his life depended on it- maybe it did at this point. Beca never dug too deep or asked why in the hell someone would steal from a company this big. Instead, she just did her job. No questions asked. Just like he was doing.

A rough punch was thrown, a right hook that pressed so painfully against the inside of Beca's cheek. Her ears were ringing, a metallic taste filling her mouth as she drew in a sharp breath- close to being pushed over the edge as she whipped her deep cobalt eyes back up to his.

She pressed her fingers against the man's leather collar, shoving him hard against the wall as her knee flew up to hit him where it counted. It wasn't the easy way out, not to Beca. It was an upper-hand that somehow made it easier to attempt to grasp the files back. Part of the girl wanting nothing more than to count her losses and just head back into the direction of .

Instead, she kept her temper in check, well as much as it could be with blood dripping from her nose and onto her cotton shirt. "And people wonder why I stick to black." She snarled, eyes flashing with pure anger.

"get off me, you freak!" The thief hissed himself, breath rancid as it filled the smaller girls lungs like trash left festering on a hot day.

"I don't think we should resort to name-calling here." She pointed out, "I have quite a few for you if you don't give me back those fucking files."

She almost liked teasing him, he was under her thumb, and all things considered, she refused to leave here without those papers. They were important, important enough to be stolen in the first place and that spoke wonders- even to someone who didn't' care much about the place she worked for.

Again, that rough heat rose in her chest. It was something more than pure rage, or adrenaline that would form in the speed of the chase. No, it was deafening, clawing at her throat as she kept her focus so intently on the man in front of her. He gulped, sensing the change in atmosphere.

"Alright, alright." He shoved the files against her chest, "No hack-job is worth this bullshit."

"Good man," She patted the side of his face as her other hand enclosed against the documents. She pondered calling National Cities Finest on the criminal, but ultimately decided against it. Why draw more attention to herself? Even if it was just for some random papers she refused to look at.

Beca took a step back, the soles of her shoes were loud as the man raised his hands to rub the raw spot on his collarbone where here grasp had been. He watched her carefully- but not careful enough. The smaller woman had no problem with her movements as she brought her own fist against his cheekbone, a dull and overpowering ache rushing against her knuckles.

"Shit," She shook out her hand, not ready for the impact it created. "Consider us even."

SHE WAS STIFF, every part of her aching as she dropped the papers on the woman's desk. She didn't' grasp her attention quickly- instead, the taller blonde kept her focus on a heated phone call. It didn't' sound pretty, but Beca knew she didn't' have the right to walk away. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned heavily against the desk, trying not to pay attention to the large wall of electronic televisions that outstretched behind the piece of furniture. It was distracting, but there were so many headlines that needed to be seen. It was easier this way, Beca new that.

"No, I don't care about your fucking agenda. If you send another one of your goons into my office than he'll leave choking on his god damn testicles. Are we clear?"

Beca swallowed back a laugh as she looked at the blonde. She looked anything but angry through her words leaked poison. Everything about Gail Abernathy was captivating in itself- the way she carried herself was enough to earn her a multi-million-dollar company and a badass status that would send any journalist quaking in their boots. Beca was different though, palming a glass paperweight that gave her a bit of comfort to fiddle with- even if her hand ached.

Midnight eyes scanned the office in front of her- it was mostly white; two-paned glass doors surrounded a white couch and a little table set up for alcohol. Beca never understood an office without privacy, but while she looked at the bustle of Barden from the quiet of this area it became more apparent.

She was so intent on glancing at the way the company worked she hadn't heard Gail set down her phone- much less get up from her leather-clad chair and sit next to her. The scent of expensive perfume filled her lungs as she cocked a brow and looked at the woman.

"Please tell me that wasn't your recipe for lasagna or something?" She cracked a joke, knowing that Gail didn't find the purple bruising gracing the side of the girls face amusing.

"No, of course not." She averted her gaze as she stared back out at her empire. "It was baked ziti."

"Damn," Beca cursed "I'm glad I could protect the legacy of the Abernathy's famous Italian delicacy."

Gail scoffed, shaking her head as she finally turned her attention back to her employee. It was her idea that Beca channeled her pent-up energy into something more- something like the job as head of security. Even if it was a bit unconventional. The job was easy for Beca, swiping badges not as normal as chasing after people on foot.

"You got close tonight." It wasn't really a question. It was a statement, one that made Beca's chest tighten with a bit of anxiety. She never knew how Gail could figure that out in less than a few seconds.

"How could you tell?" She asked instead, voice ragged.

"It takes a lot out of you, Bec's. It's not the same as it used to be." She shook her head "I could tell the second you stepped in here."

There was a silent nod instead. Beca didn't' like talking about this, about the feeling that prickled behind her eyes and built up like uneven rage. It was uncomfortable, even after all of this time. Instead of objecting, Beca stared back out into the deep abyss that was Barden. There were even more televisions pressing above employee's desks, one single white glossed table sitting so close to Gail's doors- a dorky woman with flaming red hair glancing up every once and awhile as Beca walked in to talk to the boss.

That very woman was knocking softly on the door- an echoed sound that rescued the small brunette from an even more difficult situation. Gail let out a deep sigh and waved the woman in, walking back over to flop down into her desk chair. The easy-going part of the woman's façade out the door.

Chloe looked nice- she always looked nice, awkward, but nice. She was sporting a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a white spotted button down, the pattern so subtle that it was barely noticeable. She had on olive green jeans with a black belt to match those very glasses that clouded blue eyes. Bright blue eyes that made Beca stand up from her position leaning against the desk.

"Callie, speak," Gail said as Beca stepped aside, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's uh- actually," The girl fidgeted, even with two years of being this woman's personal assistant, the girl still couldn't get the confidence to correct her. "I mean I-"

"If you're going to say something say it now." The blonde didn't' look up from her papers, instead, she stuck the blunt end of her ink pen into her lips, chewing on the plastic slightly. "I do not have all day for you to pull your confidence out of your ass."

Beca knit her eyebrows together as Chloe cleared her throat, of course, Gail would go on the defensive. Even now, she had an image to uphold. Something the brunette never understood but wouldn't dare question. Gail had to claw her way to the top, she wouldn't retract those claws anytime soon.

"Rebeca," The name that rolled off of Chloe's tongue sent the attention in the room elsewhere. "You looked like you needed ice."

Chloe thrust her hand out, still glancing away as she gained the confidence to even speak to the two women. A slight smile pressed against Beca's lips as she flicked her gaze to Gail for a moment, the blonde woman lifting her chin in amusement as the smaller girl finally grasped the Ziploc bag with the ice. It made an odd sound.

It was true, the bruised knuckles and bloody nose she was sporting wouldn't get her far in the city on the way home. She looked like she got in a bar fight, and technically she had; except without any alcohol, or a bar, but still a pissing contest.

"It's just Beca, actually." The brunette said, pressing the chilled bag to the side of her face as she flinched away from the sudden cold. Chloe either didn't notice or didn't care to say anything as she cocked her head to the side. "Thank you, Chloe."