AN: Chloe and Beca getting to know each other through a series of meals. In this universe, they're about 24 and 21, respectively. Probably 13-14 chapters.
Love,
Selene~
CHLOE slips off her heels as she closes the door to her apartment. With a relieved sigh, she flexes her feet, bending her stockinged toes against the fluffy carpet. She drops her keys and purse on the corner of her peninsula and heads to her speaker. She plugs her phone into the dock and sets to a random playlist. A smile makes its way onto her face as the opening twang of strings greets her ears, Etta James's 'I'd Rather Go Blind' filling her home.
She sings along with the legend as she strolls into her bedroom, undressing slowly as she goes. Buttons, one by one. The side zipper on her skirt. Chloe changes into loungewear, yoga pants and a loose t-shirt, brushing her hair back into a ponytail and exchanging her contacts for glasses. By the time she's done, she's crooning out the lyrics to 'At Last' and making her way into the kitchen. She's feeling like Italian food tonight, and all of the ingredients for lasagne greet her when she opens the fridge.
"I found a dream, that I could speak to," she warbles as she digs out the Dutch oven. Chloe begins to pile all of the ingredients on the counter, singing to them like they were her audience. She sways her hips as she turns the stove on to medium heat, letting the Dutch oven heat up while she organized what she'd need for each step.
As the cooking vessel sits on the stove, Chloe grabs the bamboo cutting board from where it hung by the sink, bopping her head to the jazzy music. She grabs a yellow onion and a couple of cloves of garlic, dropping them on the board. She says a little prayer before cutting into the onion, determinedly dicing it with expertise. After it's over, she sets it in a bowl and rinses off the board, proud that she only teared up slightly. The garlic is much easier to deal with, and she minces it quickly before tossing it in the same bowl and placing a plate over it to limit the amount of crying.
Once the Dutch oven is nice and hot, she opens the sweet Italian sausage filling, dumping the package into her heated pot. She follows that with slightly less ground beef. Chloe digs into the cooking meat with her wooden spoon, bringing the cooking utensil to her mouth to use the makeshift microphone appropriately, Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good' flowing through her speakers and through her muscles. She matches each tremulous note and soars through each clear phrase, breaking up bits of ground meat. Chloe sashays to her bowl of onions and garlic, upending it into the Dutch oven and tapping the side a few times to get everything.
"I just might, have a problem, that you understand," she sings, harmonizing with Bill Withers as she lets the food brown, "We all need somebody, to lean on." Chloe fishes out her can opener from its drawer, singing about friends and leaning on them as she opens several cans of tomatoes in various states.
Crushed tomatoes go in with little fanfare. Her playlist shifts slightly in tone and ukulele and Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's voice comes on as she's cleaning out a can of tomato paste with a butter knife. She slides it around the walls of the can, scooping it out as cleanly as possible to the dulcet lyrics of 'Over the Rainbow'. After that, it's a jar of tomato sauce (because she's tired and this is already going to take forever, and good tomato sauce from scratch takes time) and half a cup of water. As it comes to a boil, Chloe tosses the cans and jars into the recycling bin and slides all of her seasonings closer to the pot.
There's sugar, basil, fennel seeds, oregano, parsley, salt, and pepper. Chloe wrinkles her nose as she tastes it, deciding to add a pinch more of salt and pepper each. Then she covers it and decides to go check her mail while everything literally stews.
Slipping on her sneakers and grabbing her keys, she heads to the elevator. It's a short ride down from the third floor to the main lobby. Chloe hums the entire way, bouncing on the balls of her feet and hands snug in the pockets of her pants. She's headed to the mail room when someone drops their books on the floor with a loud swear. A small detour won't change anything, and so she walks over and bends down to help the woman. She looks pretty harrowed.
"Here, let me help you," she says as she picks up a couple of sheets of paper that have flown a bit farther. Her glasses slide down her nose as she kneels and Chloe pushes them back up with her index finger. The woman smiles tightly, nodding her head shortly and quietly thanking her. "My name's Chloe. I live here," she informs pointlessly, cringing as she adds, "but you probably knew that." Chloe shakes her head. "Just the fact that I live here, not my name." She twists her lips off to the side, handing the brunette a thin book on music theory. The woman regards her bemusedly.
"Well, you could just be wandering the lobby. I wouldn't know otherwise." There's a teasing bite to her words, and it makes Chloe laugh. They both stand up and Chloe watches the brunette brush a strand of hair back over her ear, hugging her books to her chest.
"So, you're studying music theory?" The brunette nods.
"Yeah. Majoring in it. You?" Chloe leans her head to the side, looking at the woman in front of her.
"Graduated from the Institute of Culinary Education." The woman's eyebrows raise. "I get paid to drink lots of wine, too," she adds, to her companion's humor. "So..." She drifts off, looking pointedly and awaiting a name. The woman holds the books tighter in one arm, smacking her forehead with the palm of the other.
"Oh, right. Name's Beca." She sticks out her hand for Chloe to shake. Beca's hand is soft, and Chloe holds on a bit longer than she really means to. After a second, in which Beca seems to flutter in place awkwardly, she tips her head forward. "Right, well, I'm going to get going." She points over her shoulder with her thumb towards a solid wall and a ficus. "It was nice meeting you, Chloe." The redhead smiles brightly.
"Same to you, Beca. I hope to you see you around," she winks, tittering when the shorter woman blinks repeatedly and walks away without another word.
Her mail retrieval is otherwise uninteresting, a bill, some advertisements, and a letter from Grandma Beale in Illinois asking for her to come visit this Thanksgiving. Chloe isn't sure why she's asking six months in advance, but she doesn't question the methods of the elderly. She opts out of the elevator this time, jogging up the steps at an even pace. When she gets back to her apartment, she checks her phone to find a message from Aubrey. Chloe pouts when she reads the message.
Brey: Sorry Chlo, I can't make it tonight. The office has me working overtime. The redhead types out a quick response, frowning as she sits down on the couch and clicks the TV on.
Chloe: Booo, noo :[ She's about to send it, but decides to add extra sad faces to really emphasize how devastated she is. Dropping her phone next to her, she loses herself in mindless television shows for about an hour.
She eventually returns to check on her simmering meat sauce. Finding it to be satisfactory, she pulls out a bag of flour, wipes down her counter and washes her hands. Pouring a mound of flour onto her work surface, she creates a well in the center and cracks a couple of eggs into it. From there, she beats the eggs with a fork, gradually incorporating the flour until the dough begins to form. When the clump becomes too difficult to handle with the fork, she trades it out for her hands, kneading the rest of the flour into it until it becomes a ball. Chloe cleans her surface and dusts it with more flour, adjusting and kneading until it's smooth. She then covers it with a towel and lets it sit while she cleans up around the kitchen. She's gazing into her wine fridge when she starts to smell something burning.
At first, Chloe panics because she thinks that she's accidentally burned something. But after a quick check, in which there are no burning things in neither the kitchen nor the rest of the apartment, Chloe goes to open her front door.
The smell outside is stronger, and Chloe glances around, scanning up and down the hallway. She's about to go back inside when a door on the opposite wall two doors down opens and a bit of smoke comes out. Nobody exits, so she pulls on her sneakers again and heads toward the open door. Chloe peers inside. When she doesn't see anyone, she knocks and enters.
"Hello? Are you okay in here?" Chloe hears a window being opened and a hearty curse presumably flying out of the window as well. Someone comes around the corner, and Chloe's surprised to see that she recognizes the person. "Beca? What happened?"
Beca at first seems to be just as surprised, before she blushes. "I uh, made a fire." Chloe closes the front door and helps Beca open the rest of the windows.
"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that it wasn't on purpose?" Beca snorts.
"What gave it away? Was it the obscene amount of uncontrollable smoke?" Beca's wry expression as she fans a towel, encouraging the smoke to clear, is so close to a smirk that Chloe wonders if maybe this whole thing was on purpose. "Or maybe it was my sweaty forehead and panicked tone of voice a minute ago?" Chloe laughs.
"So what happened here?" Beca shrugs, going back to the kitchen as Chloe trails after her.
"I- so, this is probably going to be really embarrassing for me because you're like, a super chef, but," Beca scratches behind her ear and under her chin, "I was trying to cook." Chloe hums.
"What were you trying to cook?" She's got a joke on the tip of her tongue, about Beca trying to cook a disaster and succeeding, but she bites it back, instead just smiling. The way that Beca eyes her though, she might know that there's a tease hiding.
"I was trying to do something simple, just some pasta. But as you can see, it didn't quite work out," Beca crosses her arms, glaring at the pot in the sink. Chloe guesses that it's black at the bottom.
"Why don't you come over to my place?" She interrupts Beca's suspicious look, "I'm making lasagne." A brown eyebrow lifts, questioning. "I'm just about to roll the dough out and layer the dish." The other eyebrow goes up.
"You're making pasta from scratch?" Chloe scoffs.
"I graduated from a culinary school. Of course I'm making pasta from scratch." Chloe puts a hand in her pocket and adjusts her glasses with the other. "So? What do you say? Unless you want to eat..." She gestures at the pot, "that." Beca bites her lip, and Chloe's eyes dart to them before flying away to the window.
"Um," the brunette shakes her head, "you know what? Yeah. Yeah, let me just clean up here and I'll... I'll be over." Chloe hops in excitement, clapping her hands together.
"Awes!" She tells Beca her apartment number and lets her know to just come in when she's ready.
Chloe's feeding the pasta through the roller when Beca finally arrives. The shorter woman is wearing a different set of clothing, sweat pants and a band shirt. She's got her hair in a messy bun, pinned with a pencil, and sandals that she discards at the door. She looks impressed, ambling over and seating herself on the other side of the peninsula.
"I was going to bring something, but then I realized that I didn't know what to bring and I didn't want to offend you with something tasteless like cheap wine," she informs blandly, smirking when Chloe laughs loudly.
"That's fine. I can give you lessons on food and wine." Beca rests her chin on the back of her hand.
"Feeding my stomach and my mind? Should I be paying you?" It sounds like the brunette's flirting, but she blushes prettily when Chloe winks and says nothing. And it looks a lot like a big game with very little punch behind it. She laughs again.
"Consider your company to be adequate payment," Chloe informs as she lays out the finished dough, cutting it into equal lengths with a roller and stacking them with a light dusting of flour in between. "My friend couldn't make it tonight, and there's no way I could eat this entire dish on my own."
"Here I thought I was special. Turns out you're just trying to dump your leftovers on me." Chloe preheats the oven and sets a baking dish on the counter. She then sets a pot of water on the stove, turning the heat on high and turning back to Beca.
"Hey. Free food is a special thing. Don't feel diminished," she reassures Beca's rolling eyes, tossing salt into the water as it comes to a boil. "Unless you'd rather not have any." Beca shrinks back.
"Uh, no, I'm good. Thank you for having me." Beca rubs her hands together on top of the counter, lips quirking and eyes just on the edge of winking. Chloe breathes through the fluttering in her belly, dropping the noodles into the water separately. Her glasses fog up and she slides them to rest on top of her head. Beca watches her silently.
"Wow, those take no time at all to cook," she mutters as she observes Chloe moving about. The redhead nods, setting them aside to dry and opening a container of ricotta. She cracks an egg, dumping some chopped parsley and seasoning the mixture as she stirs.
"Yep! Fresh noodles are so much better. The taste is incomparable." When the ricotta is done, Chloe begins layering. She glances up from her work when Beca's tapping on the counter becomes more pronounced. "Are you alright there?" Beca's head snaps up.
"Oh! Yeah. I just feel weird watching you do everything, dude." Chloe nods her head at the baking dish she's currently layering.
"You want to help? It's pretty easy. There's a pattern you follow and everything. No burning required," she teases. Beca drops her brow to level Chloe with an expression that tickles her more than anything.
"Make fun of the less talented, why don't you." Chloe blows a kiss and moves to the side as Beca washes her hands and joins her by the dish. "So, I just, put stuff here?" The redhead hums encouragingly, watching with gleeful eyes as Beca lays noodles over the meat sauce and cheese. The brunette's focus is intense, like she's afraid to mess it up, and Chloe's heart does a little dance in her chest at how nervous she seems. She doesn't mention the slight shaking of Beca's hands. Chloe claps when it's all done, and Beca sighs noticeably.
"You did a great job!", she praises, covering the baking dish and sliding it into the oven. "Now we just wait a bit." Beca hums.
"Mmm. How long?" Chloe goes back to her wine fridge.
"Forty minutes, roughly." The last bit of her sentence is drowned out by Beca's groaning.
"That's forever!", she whines, much like a child. Chloe laughs quietly as she selects a bottle.
"You'll live. At least you aren't eating charcoal." She pulls a couple of wine glasses out after giving Beca a questioning glance as to whether she'd like wine and receives a nod in response.
"That's mean." Chloe shrugs, popping the bottle.
"Truth hurts, Beca." She leaves the wine on the counter and heads back over to her living room, the brunette following in her wake. "Music, or TV?" Beca seems to ponder the question for a minute, shifting her head between the two choices before picking music.
"I really hope you have good taste in music, or else this is going to be awkward." The redhead unlocks her phone.
"What kind of music do you like?" When she gets no response, she turns back around.
"Music is kind of my 'thing'," Beca says, making air quotations. "I like a lot of music." Chloe scrolls through her music.
"We'll just go for a list of popular songs, then." Chloe picks an internet station, smiling as 'Titanium' opens. Judging from Beca's face, she seems to appreciate it.
"David Guetta. Good choice. And you can't really go wrong with a voice like Sia's." Chloe rounds the couch, sitting down on it as Beca mirrors the position, turning to face the redhead. "So." Chloe smiles.
"So?" Beca fidgets, tapping her hands on her knees.
"Please don't tell me we're going to sit here and stare into each other's eyes or something," she mutters nervously. Chloe's got a wild smile that's hard to put a lid on, and Beca's brow drops. The redhead leans forward, hand on the couch between them.
"What's wrong with a little heavy eye contact?" Beca reaches up and pulls at her ear, and Chloe stares at the bar that runs through the top. She watches the brunette's fingers trace along the metal, and she forgets that she was teasing Beca.
"It's creepy." Chloe's eyes zip back. She covers her slip-up with a smirk.
"Wanna get creepy with me?" Beca shakes her head, shoving Chloe's shoulder as the redhead laughs at her.
"Dude, you're so weird."
"Thanks!"
After some not-creepy light conversation, Chloe goes to pour a glass of wine for herself and Beca. When she returns, Beca studies the glass she's been presented with, before drifting those ridiculously attractive eyes over the redhead. Chloe sips the wine to give herself some time.
"Tell me about this wine. Educate the masses," she clinks her glass against the redhead's. Chloe licks her lips to remove any traces of wine, and because she's already looking at Beca's eyes, she catches when they dip. Neither of them mention it, and Chloe moves on. Holding up the wine, she swirls it around.
"Well, this is a Chianti. Obvs, it's a red wine," ignoring Beca when she mockingly parrots back the "obvs" with a serious expression and the tiny smirk hiding out at the corner of her lips, "and it's from the Chianti region of Italy." She studies the wine again.
"It's at least eighty percent Sangiovese grapes. It's occasionally blended with Cabernet, Merlot, or Syrah." Chloe taps her nail against her glass. "This is a Chianti Classico. It's considered to be more refined because it's produced only from grapes from the best vineyards."
"Oh, are you refined?" Beca needles. Chloe laughs.
"It was a gift, but yes, yes I am. Like I said, I get paid to drink wine, Beca." She takes a sip.
"Was this wine a deliberate choice?" She nods at the question.
"This wine pairs well with our current dish. It's earthy and rustic. Totes blends with lasagne." When Beca takes a sip as well, Chloe asks, "doesn't the taste remind you of cherries and strawberries?" Beca hums.
"It reminds me of wine, dude." Chloe sits up.
"No! Come on! Think about it! Swish the wine around in your mouth and give me an honest answer!" Beca leans back, eyebrows high.
"Calm down there. It's," the brunette takes another sip, letting it sit on her tongue. Chloe's pleased that she seems to be honestly judging it. "I mean, yeah, now that you mention it, I kind of do." She looks surprised at her own assessment.
"See? There's a whole wide wine world out there, just waiting for you to taste it," she quips. Beca snorts.
"It's not my first drink of choice, but it's not bad. It suits you, though." Chloe stands up to go check the food.
"Oh?" Beca walks behind her, bringing her wine with her and sitting at the peninsula again.
"Yeah. You seem like that kind of classy woman. Someone who drinks wine and slow dances." Chloe grins, pleased, and blushes as she pulls the lasagne out of the oven.
"You flatter me, Beca." Beca smiles back.
"Am I wrong? Do you hate slow dancing?"
"What if I like slow dancing, but I'm not classy?" The brunette chuckles.
"You're classy. Just take the compliment." Beca fiddles with the stem of her wine glass, head down and lips turned up. Chloe bites her lip and goes to get a couple of plates.
Two pairs of blue eyes dash back and forth as the food is plated, meeting and skittering away before finding each other again. And Chloe didn't really have this in mind when she invited Beca over, but she can't say that she's not pleased at how this evening is turning out. They're back at the couch, on opposite sides, facing each other and making easy conversation. She smiles brightly when Beca admits to how well the Chianti and lasagne pair.
She briefly wonders how she'd pair with Beca before knocking that thought away.
It's a laborious task, one that is revived with every bite that Beca takes, because the woman's outbursts are borderline inappropriate. She moans again, chewing with obvious relish. "Ohhh my God," Beca mumbles at the end of her bite, vision obscured by the constant fluttering of eyelashes.
Temptation is something that Chloe deals with pretty well. She's practically a physical manifestation of it and so she's familiar with the tug, that itch that sits in her fingers and whispers in her ear. She's got that ability to inspire it in other people. But Beca is flipping her grip on the part of her brain that controls her urges, unconsciously picking at the ropes that tie it all back, and Chloe pokes at her food with more force than the action calls for, studiously concentrating on every nuance of the dish. She's trying to translate the ingredients into another language when the brunette sighs heavily, and the sheer amount of relief in the exhale makes Chloe's eye twitch.
"I'm assuming the lasagne is good?" The words barely make it beyond her lips, pursed and amused and a bit exasperated. Beca drains her wineglass.
"Good doesn't even cover it. You are a master of the kitchen." Beca praises like she means it, like she's already contemplating, in no small measure, the dimensions of a statue in Chloe's image. The redhead shifts in her seat and sets her plate down to refill her wine. After topping them both off, she tucks her legs under herself and turns to face Beca on the couch. Her companion does something similar, tucking one leg and leaving the other to swing and occasionally fidget. Chloe traces over the lip of the glass before speaking.
"I'm glad you decided to take up the offer, Beca. I really enjoyed the company." Beca swirls her wine and takes a sip.
"Me too. It was fun. You're the first person I've met who lives here and isn't crazy," the brunette comments. Chloe unsubtly eyes the woman in front of her, and is rewarded with a reproving glare.
They have another glass of wine before Chloe's starting to feel a little too relaxed, and from the way Beca's resting her head on the back of the couch, she'd guess the brunette is in a similar state. She sets her wine on the coffee table and takes her glasses off, perching them on top of her head again and reaching forward for Beca's hands when she's also no longer holding her glass.
"We should do this again sometime!" Beca smiles and agrees.
They get up and Chloe walks Beca to the door after waving off her attempts to help clean up. They're hanging in the open doorway now, full and a bit sleepy. Chloe presses her head against the wall, watching as Beca pats herself to make sure she has her things. At the end of it all, Beca seems to indecisively shift back and forth, before nodding and turning to look at Chloe.
"Right. So. I think you're awesome." Chloe keeps her mirth inside, encouraging Beca to continue speaking. "I hope we can hang out without me burning any pots." The redhead laughs, leaning closer.
"I would hope so. I'll see you later?" Her eyes drop. When she brings her gaze back up, she jumps a little when she sees that Beca's been watching her, eyebrow raised.
"Yep," Beca replies distractedly. And when the brunette's hand brushes Chloe's arm, she realizes with a start that they've gotten a lot closer without any conscious movement on her part. Chloe stands up straighter, brushing her hand over her hair and running her fingers through the end of her ponytail.
"Have a nice night, Beca." The shorter woman's eyelids flutter a lot before she shakes herself out of whatever stupor she'd fallen into, leaning back and smiling. She nods and backs out of the doorway, slowly drifting down the hall and to her door. Chloe watches until Beca unlocks it, and grins widely when her new friend winks at her before slipping inside and closing the door.
Chloe's made lasagne dozens of times. But this time, everything seemed to taste so much better.
AN: Bill Withers - Lean On Me