Riff-off

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The best!

every steve/tony argument ever

the world: is fucked and in immediate peril

tony: how about this pragmatic but morally dubious solution

steve: TONY NO that’s imperfect and therefore wrong

tony: ok, what should we do instead then?

steve: LALALA CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY MORAL PURITY

4

“It’s a love affair, between you and your partner and the music. You feel the music, you feel your partner, she feels you and she feels the music. So there the three of you are together. You’ve got a triangle, you know. Which one do you love best?” -frankie manning

Senseless (Becommissar Fic) Chapter 1/?

“Kommissar, what is wrong?” Pieter approached his counterpart who glanced and nodded in greeting before returning her gaze to what she’d been watching before.

“Tiny Maus is gone.” she spoke simply, with as little emotion as she could, wishing to hide her thoughts. Pieter observed her as she fidgeted. Standing tall but rocking her feet and tapping her fingers against her dark pants. It seemed similar to the same  strange rigid dance she did when someone was late for something important. Her jaw tensed and she continued to ignore his presence, flitting her eyes every couple moments as though watching someone move about.

“As in she went home?” Pieter shrugged, lifting his water to drink. He’d stopped drinking hours earlier, knowing better than to wish a horrid morning on himself. He wondered if the more than a little inebriated state the Kommissar had gotten herself into may have lent to the jittery stance.

“No.” she finally turned to him fully, eyes wide and far away.

“Then what is it!” he asked again, exasperated.

“She is just gone, verloren, they cannot find her.” she gestured away from him to another side of the party where Chloe stood, asking another group of strangers if they had seen her dear friend. It all made a bit more sense to Pieter now.

“Do not worry, Kommissar, I’m sure they will find the tiny Maus. She’s small but not very sneaky.” he chuckled and continued to watch as the three or so Bellas walked from person to person without any luck. Kommissar shook her head, removing a phone from her back pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling her.” she set the phone to her ear before Pieter could protest. As it began to sound she walked away, leaving Pieter in the crowded room. She entered a side hallway, the long ring drawing itself out as long as foreseeably possible. Almost ready to start biting her nails by the fifteenth or so ring, she pulled it from her ear. To her luck, she could hear a ring sounding from somewhere beyond the phone in the far off rooms of the mansion.

“Tiny Maus?” stepping tentatively down the hallway, she listened closely. The ring came back again crisply through the dusty air before her phone went to voicemail. Proof enough for her, she followed where the sound had come from.

With long even strides she made her way down the hallway until it split: one side going up and the other continuing on the lower level. Calling out for her again she tried glancing down each darkened path for a sign of life. She swore she could hear the smallest groan in response. Taking the steps two to three at a time, another familiar whine could be heard. At the top of the stairs she turned, a similar dark hallway leading off from more stairs in front of her. The tall woman found it harder and harder to stay calm as the voice stopped.

She paced forward, into the hallway, opening the doors on either side of herself. She had come upon a wing of guest rooms, much like she remembered from her grandmother’s in her youth, but these rooms did not hold the same welcoming feeling she knew so well. They all felt eerily empty which she could not decide whether it was by fault of the rooms themselves, or because her Maus was not within them. She began to go faster, her phone buzzing in her pocket, as she slammed doors left and right. Barely glancing across the beds before going to the next. The long hall seemed endless before she finished it so quickly. Reaching the last door, across from a new set of stairs, she threw it open.

The room, dark as the others, held only a small lamp, a bed and a chest at its foot. A dark window, relieved of its drapes, revealed the heavy downpour that had begun hours ago and had yet to stop. The heavy droplets hit the window with loud thunks but otherwise the room remained quite still. Breathing heavy, the Kommissar bent, putting her fist to her chest. Her heartbeat had escalated and tears bloomed at the edges of her eyes. The sound of her own struggling overshadowed the rain and any other sounds that wasted away in the room. Her phone buzzed again and she finally stood again, tears gone.

“Where are you, tiny Maus?” she whispered her query with her head bowed. Expecting no response she reached for the door handle, ready to pull it closed, when a small complaint fell across the quiet room.

Stepping forward. she shut the door. There the Bella lay, curled up and grumbling, against the wall that had been hidden by the door. She clutched her head, making Kommissar thankful she’d been gentler in slamming it open than the ones before it. Relief flooded her as she kneeled in front of the other woman, her hand falling to her shivering, bare shoulder, “Mausie, where have you been? Everyone’s been searching for you.” Beca responded by covering her face, trying to avoid a full awakening. When it became apparent the Bella was not going to respond Kommissar reached down and grasped Beca’s limp body, lifting her into her strong arms.

“Mausie.” she sat on the bed with her new cargo stirring slightly from the movements. Dropping her hands and opening tired eyes she glanced up at her savior. Kommissar feared she would freak out at the sight of her singing foe. Beca didn’t. With a yawn, she stretched her short arms before reaching up and looping them around the blonde’s neck. Her head eased against the barely covered skin of the Kommissar’s warm chest.

After getting over the initial shock of such a sweet gesture, Kommissar adjusted her hold. Cradling her with one she lifted the other to the brunette’s long curls and stroked her fingers through them. In a much softer voice, she asked, “Mausie, what is wrong?” making the brunette sigh before relaxing more into her front.

“I drank too much. And I’m exhausted.” she pouted, “I just needed to lay down for a sec but I couldn’t find Chloe and I think I got lost. And it’s really fucking cold and creepy up here.” Kommissar chuckled at the small woman’s inebriated complaints.

“You were very lost, little Maus. Everyone is looking to find you.”

“Even you.” close to falling asleep, Beca mumbled her last response. Face pressed against the mix of soft skin and harsh mesh her eyes drooped shut.

“Even I.” Kommissar’s words fell into an almost silent room yet again. She waited as Beca’s breathing slowed, her arms going slack around her neck. After only a few moments she even began to snore. The blonde smiled, wondering how she could have worried so about such a small stranger. After only a few days in her presence a possessive need had filled the tall woman. Holding her now, she felt it again. The feisty spirit residing in the limp body against her own had peaked her curiosity more than she cared to admit.

She knew though. She recognized the calm that covered her as her own breathing slowed from the frantic pace it had set before. She knew it and she knew it meant nothing good, but she nuzzled the soft head of her little Maus anyway. She lifted the petite woman gently, as though she weighed nothing, and carried her from the room.


**Verloren means lost in german I believe. I could very well be mistaken and do tell me if I am. 

***Oh, and this is my first try at a Becommissar fic (you’ve all been inspiring me). I feel like I could continue this and I probably will, but I’d love to hear opinions on it! Thank you so much for reading it.

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Anna Kendrick kills it in a riff-off against James Corden and The Filharmonic on The Late Late Show.