Santana bit her lip, as she watched as Charlie carefully and expertly cut an onion, over the past few days she had wondered if maybe she had forced this relationship into existence, things had been awkward between them. "Please don't cut your finger off, I don't know how I'd explain that Riley. I took your mom to learn how to cook and she lost a finger. She won't think that I'm very responsible."

"I already know how to cook Santana." Charlie said as she cleaned her knife and looked at Santana's onion.

"Debatable. The only thing I've seen you cook are pancakes, a ton of bacon, hotdogs, burgers and mac and cheese which while impressive isn't a healthy balanced diet. Seriously though—where did you learn those knife skills?"

"Frida taught me, after an unfortunate incident where I tried to make her dinner one night while we were dating." Charlie held up her hand and showed the faint scar on her pointer finger. "I needed six stitches, should have seen her rushing into action. I think I decided that day that I was going to marry her. After they took the stitches out, she insisted on teaching me how to use a knife and how to cook some simple dishes to impress her." The proud smile on Charlie's freezes, and she glances away, "Sorry."

Santana blinks, "For?"

"We're here on a date, and I'm talking about my dead wife—" Charlie winces at her words.

"You love her." Santana said reaching for Charlie's hand and placing her pinky over Charlie. "I can see it when you talk about her, you light up and your smile gets really big. I know that some women would get jealous, I'm not asking you to replace who Frida was to you, I'm not asking you to stop loving her. I'm not sure what I want, but for the two years I've worked for your mother, the one thing I saw is how much you loved her. It's part of why I fell for you."

Charlie swallows and plays with the cut onions for a bit, "Still, I think you're too good for me."

Santana smirked, "Hardly. I wasn't understanding when we first met, I can't imagine what you were going through, all I knew was that Riley was hurting I didn't stop to think about how you were handling things. I could have been—gentler."

"I didn't need gentle," Charlie said. "I doubt I'd be here if you hadn't shoved when you had. If my mother hadn't removed all alcohol from the premises. I know that I was difficult, so thank you for shoving me in the right direction," she's quiet for a moment. "What are we supposed to do with these onions?"

"Sweat them?"

"How do you sweat onions?" Charlie asked.

Santana snorts at the question. "I assume it means putting it in the pan that we've heated up," Santana says glancing up at the instructor. Neither one had been paying that much attention, to what was going on around them. Which was probably a good sign.

Charlie dumps the onions onto the pan watching as they popped as they hit the oil and began to sizzle. "What are we making anyway?"

"Some form of steak or another from the looks of it," Santana said looking at the cut of meat that had been set in front of them. "We probably should have gone to the dumpling class."

"Mm, dumplings."

"It was sold out though," Santana pointed out. "The next one was several weeks away, and I wasn't sure if you'd chicken out if I waited that long."

"I don't think I would have chickened out. I probably would have thought you changed your mind on dating someone as old as me, who had baggage."

"You really shouldn't refer to your daughter as baggage," Santana responded.

Charlie puffs out her cheeks annoyed; she can hear the teasing tone in Santana's voice but still. "I would never refer to Riley as baggage. At least not until she was a teenager."

Santana grins at her, "Good. I'm interested in you. I think you're interested in me, so let's just enjoy this time together and stop being awkward with one another. We're both adults here. I can make my own decisions about who I want to date and right now that is you."

"Because you have a thing for older women."

"Less drama, they know what they're doing. Of course, I have a thing for older women. By the way on our next date you're making me dinner."

"You're certain that I'm going to agree to another date?"

"Look at me Charlie," Santana said haughtily. "Of course, I'm going to have a second date."

"Humble too," Charlie said flatly but she smiles. "I can do dinner."

"Something that I've never seen you make before Charlie."

"I have a child who is seven, I am not cranking out the date night recipes for her," Charlie said with a shake of her head. "She still tries to hide her peas under her napkin."

Santana laughed, "That's because she saw you do that with the artichokes, when we are at your twins place for dinner."

"I was very discrete," Charlie argues.

"I kicked you twice."

"Is that what that was for? I thought it was because I was making fun of Quinn."

"It was for both—I was telling you to act like an adult. And now because of you Riley thinks it's perfectly acceptable to hide food under her plate badly. And whenever I tell her it isn't, she says you do it. So, fix it. It's your fault that we can no longer just say because I said so."

"I don't want her blindly following authority!"

"Yes, but we are the authority, and for the most part we know what's best for her," Santana argued.

"So, explain why it's good and why what I did was bad, I'm teaching her to always question things and not just believe people at their word. People aren't always right Santana. I know it makes it more difficult but she really does end up doing what she's supposed to, most days. And we've discussed this Santana, you're far better at explaining things to her, in a way that doesn't lead to her hating me."

Santana rolled her eyes, "You really will need to learn to talk to her. We're lucky she still thinks of you as an adult." Charlie stuck out her tongue at Santana, and she can't help but smile. "You're only proving my point."