Fandom: Pitch Perfect
Pairing: Beca/Aubrey
Rating: PG
Length: ± 1400
Disclaimer: nothing is mine.
A.N. English is not my first language.
Thanks to
slacker_d, who gave me the prompt, edited the fic and suggested the title too!
Prompt: Aubrey wants to propose to Beca, but being a bit old fashioned decides she needs to ask Beca's dad for his blessing. Up to you if he gives it or not.
“Hello?” The woman greeted, with some hesitation, the young woman at her door.
“Good evening, Mrs. Mitchell, I’m Aubrey.” The blonde smiled, even if a bit formally. “Is your husband at home?”
Mrs. Mitchell looked at her, trying to remember if the woman standing in front of her wearing a very professional looking suit and holding a leather bag actually resembled the one she saw in photographs or if she was going to invite some door-to-door retailer into her home. “Not right now, but he should arrive soon. Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, please.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Mrs. Mitchell broke the uncomfortable silence after a while.
“Yes, please.” Aubrey gave a sharp nod and the older woman, with a sense of relief, left her sitting alone on the couch, her leather bag in her lap.
She returned with a tray, putting it on the table coffee.
“Thank you.” Aubrey took a cup.
“Sugar?” Mrs. Mitchell held out the sugar bowl.
“No thanks.”
“Milk? Cream? Sweetener?”
“No thanks, I like it bitter.” Aubrey shook her head.
“Oh.” The woman looked at her strangely but relented. “Okay.”
They were sitting once again in silence, Mrs. Mitchell trying not to fidget or stare at Aubrey as the young woman calmly sipped her coffee, when they heard the door opening.
“Excuse me.” Mrs. Mitchell quickly stood up.
“There is an Aubrey in the living room.”
“What?” Mr. Mitchell looked at his wife.
“There is an Aubrey in the living room,” she repeated.
“Beca’s Aubrey?” her husband asked.
“I think so.”
“Aubrey.”
“Dr. Mitchell.” Aubrey stood up, her hands smoothing down her pencil skirt, before offering her hand.
He hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. “Is Beca okay?” he asked, worried.
“Yes.”
“Oh,” he said uncertainly, as Aubrey sat down again.
“Do you have some time to dedicate to me? I’d like to talk to you about something. That regards Beca.”
“But she is okay, right?” he asked again while sitting in front of her.
“Yes, she is,” she repeated, before opening her bag and taking out a netbook. She looked around. “Did you hang a new painting?” she asked, staring at the wall. “I didn’t consider the possibility. I can’t project it, then.”
“What?” Mr. Mitchell asked, not understanding.
“The screen is small, but it will do.” Aubrey continued muttering to herself, while turning on the netbook. She started a PowerPoint presentation and turned the screen so that Beca’s dad could see it, as a date appeared on the first slide.
She cleared her throat. “This is the date I met Beca.”
With a click, a photo of Beca, Chloe and Aubrey herself at the Barden Bellas' stand during the Activities Fair appeared. Aubrey remembered asking for it from her colleague at the ‘Barden News’. They were looking over all the photos, trying to choose the best ones for the usual article about the Activities Fair that would open the first issue of the new academic year. Then she saw the photo, and it was such a good shot of her and Chloe together that she knew she needed to have it. She totally planned to cut Beca out…thankfully she never got around it. She smiled to herself as a new slide with another date followed.
“This is the date we started dating. Making a quick calculation, to the present, this is the amount of time we have been together.” She clicked again. “According to studies, college relationships up until a certain point can either fail or survive. We’ve amply surpassed that critical period and we’ve been a couple long enough to be included in the group that, statistically speaking, has a very large probability of a lifelong relationship.”
“Aubrey,” Mr. Mitchell interrupted her. “Not that this isn’t interesting…but why are you telling me this?”
She looked straight into his eyes. “I wish to ask Beca to marry me.”
“And what? You want my permission?” he chuckled.
“Is that a no?” the blonde’s voice quivered.
“No, I-”
“Because I can assure you that I’m a perfect match for Beca, and a good catch.” Aubrey immediately regained confidence. “I have a very good job.” She took out a sheet from her bag. “This is my current pay check. But I’m a shoo in for a promotion.” She furiously clicked on her netbook to continue the presentation. “This is a projection of my future income in five years. Ten years. And twenty years. It has been calculated keeping in mind all the possible outcomes and it verges on the cautious side. If we were to look for a more optimistic view, this would be the result.” A new slide appeared. “Naturally this doesn’t include Beca’s earnings. Adding her current ones, this would be the result. As you can see, we’d be perfectly able to sustain a more than respectable, I would even dare say, well-off life, and possibly even future hypothetical offspring, if we wanted.”
“Aubrey,” Mr. Mitchell tried to interrupted her.
“I have a clean bill of health.”
“Aubrey.”
“No genetic illness in my family.”
“Miss Posen!” he said in his best professor voice. That got Aubrey’s attention. “Yes.”
“Yes? Yes what?” She was genuinely confused.
“Yes, you have my permission to marry Beca.”
“Really?” Aubrey asked, disbelief and happiness in her voice. “I have your blessing?”
“Of course. I think you’re perfect for Beca. You’re perfect together.”
“But you laughed,” she noted with a frown.
“I chuckled,” he corrected her. “And I was simply surprised. You both are the epitome of feminism. You had the Bellas singing only songs from female artists, after all. I never thought you’d want to ask my permission.”
Aubrey smiled shyly. “I’m a bit old fashioned regarding certain matters.”
“And I honestly never thought Beca would care for it,” Mr. Mitchell added, in a somewhat subdued tone. He had managed to repair his relationship with Beca, and he was happy about it, but sometimes he watched his colleagues with their children, even the grown up ones, and he wished things had went differently.
“Every child wants to have her parents’ approval.”
“I’m sure your father is proud of you,” the professor told her, knowing that she was talking about herself too.
Aubrey looked away. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to see the ring?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.
“You have it here?”
She nodded while rummaging through her bag. “I thought you could…approve it too?”
Mr. Mitchell held back a laugh. “Let’s see it then.”
“Here.” She opened the little box. “I know that it’s simple,” she started, seeing how he was looking at the ring. “And it looks like it’s not much. But I wanted something that Beca would be comfortable wearing, and possibly never take off, and-” she stopped as she felt her hand covered by the professor’s.
“First of all, after two marriages and plenty of experiences with jewelry, I know that while this ring may look simple, it’s not cheap. And now I’m glad that I know how much you earn, because otherwise I’d worry you had spent all your savings on it, leaving you nothing to take care of my daughter with.”
Aubrey blushed at his teasing.
“Second, I think it’s perfect for Beca. I can’t really see her wearing some flashy ring.” They both grinned at the thought. “But if you want a suggestion…”
Aubrey nodded, a little wary.
“If you really want her to never take it off…don’t tell her how much it costs.”
She laughed. “I know, I've learnt by now…you have no idea how many things she never wears because they are too nice and she is afraid to ruin them.” She shook her head, closing the box and reverently deposing it back in the bag.
“You already have the ring…what if I had told you no?”
Aubrey looked up at him, trying to determinate if he was serious or if he was teasing her.
“Don’t fret, it’s not a trick question. I’m just curious,” Mr. Mitchell reassured her.
She relaxed. “I’d never mention this, propose to Beca anyway and hope that you’d change your mind before the wedding.”
“I know that I said it wasn’t a trick question.” Aubrey tensed up again. “But if it was, you’d have passed it with flying colors.”
Aubrey stepped out of the Mitchell’s home with a smile on her face. Now she was one step closer to making Beca Mrs. Posen.