It's Market Day once again and Santana couldn't be more thrilled. Market Days are her favorite because twice a week, she gets to go out and see what the vendors are pushing rather than just filling out an order. This Market Day is special though because once a month, the vendors put up stalls and it becomes more like a fair than an actual farmers' market.
Unlike the city, these people want to do more than just make a sale and Santana's not just looking for the best quality for the lowest price. Most of the vendors are family owned and operated businesses so she's face to face with the people who actually harvest the produce she uses and that really makes a difference.
And maybe once upon a time, she would've loved to share this with Brittany. She knows she would fit in perfectly with this tight-knit community that treats everyone like family, but not anymore.
This is just for her.
Santana always makes a point to visit her favorite vendor first; Miss Maggie, the Pumpkin Queen. The name apparently comes from the title she won a few years back, biggest pumpkin grown on the East Coast, and although she hasn't won again since – the name stuck. She grows more than pumpkins though, she offers a variety of squash, but her secret weapon is that she used to be a pastry chef. Once a month, she always surprises Santana with her own creation featuring her prized pumpkins. Miss Maggie says it's just to keep Santana on her toes in case she decides to come out of retirement and go for her job.
"I'm no pastry chef so the job is as good as yours!" Santana would joke in return.
This day is special for another reason though. In the past few days, Santana finally completed the new menu and the last dish that rounds it all out happens to draw inspiration from a galette Miss Maggie once made for her. Today, she gets to tell Miss Maggie that she named that dish after her.
It's meant to be a joyous occasion, filled with appreciation she often has a hard time giving, but she skids to a stop when she finds Miss Maggie swept up in conversation with someone else. That someone else happens to be pouring over what is undoubtedly a delectable dessert Miss Maggie has cooked up – a dessert that was meant to be for Santana and Santana alone!
Technically, Miss Maggie is big on sharing but still. The last person Santana wants to share her goodies with right now is Brittany!
"Santana! You've made it," Miss Maggie beams as she welcomes Santana to her stall. They exchange pleasantries, but Santana glares at Brittany from over the old woman's head. "I was just telling Brittany about our little tradition. She's new to the area. Brittany, this is Santana. She's the Executive Chef over at the – "
"We've met," Santana interrupts. She keeps the smile plastered on her face in front of Miss Maggie. She doesn't know what it is about the woman, but she reminds her of her abuela. The last thing she wants to do is get on her bad side by seeming rude. "We go way back."
Brittany grins. "It's true. Santana and I used to – "
"Work together," Santana says. Brittany gives her a confused look, but Santana ignores it. "Back when I used to live in the city."
"Really now? What a small world!" Miss Maggie replies. "Who knew you'd both end up out here?"
"I sure didn't," Santana quips.
"Well, it was always part of the plan for me."
Santana scoffs. "What would you know about sticking to a plan?"
"Well if you'd return a phone call or text, maybe I could tell you?"
Miss Maggie then interrupts the bickering with a plate of pie she had set aside for Santana. "Enough of whatever that is, try this. What did you think, Brittany? Five stars?"
"Absolutely! That was delicious," Brittany compliments. "You'll love it, Santana."
Santana forgoes a reply and instead takes a bite to keep from starting another argument with Miss Maggie present. But Brittany's right, the pie is delicious. So velvety and rich, the crust is delicately flakey and cooked to perfection. It reminds her of why she was so excited to come to Market Day in the first place!
But the moment is kind of ruined with Brittany standing there, awaiting a reaction as if she baked the damn pie herself.
Nevertheless, Santana smiles warmly at the woman. "Miss Maggie, you've outdone yourself. This is amazing."
"Oh good! I'm glad you like it," Miss Maggie beams before toddling to the back of her stall. "I baked another for you to take back, let me get it. Share with Quinn this time!"
"I won't make any promises," Santana calls out to her.
Meanwhile, Brittany frowns. "Who's Quinn?"
"My new lady lover," Santana lies. "We're very serious. Might even open up a restaurant together once we're done unpacking our Uhauls."
Brittany's eyes widen but Miss Maggie ruins the fun by returning with another pie.
"Quinn is Santana's Sous Chef," She tells Brittany as she passes it off to Santana. "She's a sweet girl with pink hair. She actually grew up here, her family owns the lemon orchard."
Santana didn't actually know that about Quinn but it totally makes sense now. The girl knows her way around a preserved lemon.
Brittany seems to be intrigued too. "So you're dating your Sous Chef?"
Miss Maggie is equally surprised. "You're dating Quinn?"
Of course, that's the perfect moment for said Sous Chef to return from picking up the turnip order. She stares at the three women with a perplexed look, the produce box weighing heavily in her arms. "Who's dating me?"
"Apparently Santana."
"We're dating?" Quinn asks her. She glances at Brittany and purses her lips. "And you are?"
"I'm – "
"No one," Santana quickly interrupts. "No one is dating anyone, especially not Quinn."
"Uh rude. People date me," Quinn mutters. "You know what, I'm going to put this in the truck."
"Take your pie too," Santana grumbles and sets the pie on top of her box.
This is what Santana was worried about; Brittany coming back and inserting herself into this life she's made without her. She came here today to have a moment with Miss Maggie, but instead she's doing this!
"So I'm going to go," Brittany says, possibly getting the point that she has outstayed her welcome. "I have a few things to pick up for service but it was lovely meeting you, Miss Maggie."
"You too, Brittany! If you need any help finding things, go to that little building with the red roof. Sam will sort it out."
Brittany thanks her then looks at Santana one last time. "I'll see you around, San."
Santana fights the way the old nickname causes her stomach to flip. She even fights the way her fingers twitch to reach out when Brittany brushes past. It's such an odd feeling; being so overcome with frustration and yet still longing to just shove their differences aside and kiss her.
Love is so weird.
"She's a sweetheart," Miss Maggie mentions with a knowing smirk on her face.
"Don't let the sweetness fool you, she can be such a little shit."
"What'd she do to get on your bad side? Put too many sprinkles on your ice cream cone?"
"Ugh, I hate sprinkles." Santana dismisses as she looks over her shoulder, wondering if she can spot Brittany at a nearby stall. She swears she can still hear her voice. No, she's mad at her and there will be no looking!
"Some sprinkles would probably do you good," Miss Maggie tells her.
"Well I don't want any of Brittany's."
"I don't believe that for a second," Miss Maggie laughs. "What's this about you not returning her calls?"
"That's too long of a story and I'm not here to talk about that." Santana goes rummaging through her bag for the new menu in hopes of deflecting. "I've got something for you."
At first, Miss Maggie only admires the dishes' descriptions, pointing out which she can't wait to try. It's not until she reaches the very last line that she realizes what makes this menu so unique.
"My galette?"
"Yeah. I thought I'd test my baking skills. Couldn't be that hard," Santana jokes. "I'd love for you to come in on opening night. I saved a table just for you."
"Of course, I'd love to! I'll put it in my calendar right now," Miss Maggie tells her happily as she gets her phone. "I'm so honored!"
"I'm pretty sure I nailed it, but I'm open to feedback," Santana says. "Only if it comes from you."
Miss Maggie laughs along with Santana before going off to put the menu someplace safe, telling her how she can't wait to show it off to her husband once she gets home.
"Hey Chef! Turnips are away. Ready to get the rest?" Quinn asks as she returns.
Santana nods and bids her goodbyes to Miss Maggie while Quinn does the same, mentioning she can't wait to try the pie once they get back to the restaurant. The pair continue moving through the market, shopping for the rest of the produce on the list. They make quick work crossing items off and sampling vendors special offerings as they go.
They're onto the last two items of their list so they might as well divide and conquer. Quinn heads down to have a look at the heirloom tomatoes while Santana follows up on the carrots – except there seems to be an issue when Santana arrives to see her usual vendor's display of Dutch rainbow carrots has been wiped clean.
"Hey Santana!" Scott greets from over his shoulder. He's busy packing away what looks to be the last of his stock. Since when did she have to pre-order? Nevermind, surely something can be arranged for her.
"Hey Scott, busy morning?"
"Surprisingly, yes!" Scott grins when he turns around to face her. "Went through everything I brought."
"Of course you would. They're the best, grown by the best too," Santana flirts. It's not her best work but it's Scott. The guy blushes whenever Santana's around, he just about faints when she makes eye contact.
"Thanks Santana. That really means a lot!" He starts to fidget, growing embarrassingly shy. "This here is the last of the rainbow."
"So those wouldn't happen to be for me," Santana asks, smiling devilishly sweet. "Would they?"
Scott's smile droops into a frown. "Sorry Santana. These are spoken for already. I have the regular Dutch carrots though?"
"No, that won't do," Santana replies. Honestly, she could probably work with it. It's not ideal since solely orange would throw off the whole plating of the dish. She combs her fingers through her hair in a seemingly panicked way. "That won't do at all, Scott. Your rainbow carrots are the star of my dish. You sure there's nothing you can do for me?"
Scott's gripping the box tightly, looking conflicted as ever. "I mean I could see I could split it? The customer hasn't paid yet, she just needed to take out some cash."
"Perfect," Santana flashes him a pretty smile. "If she hasn't paid for it then how about I – "
"What do you think you're doing, Santana?" Santana whips around to find Brittany with her arms crossed. "Those are mine."
"Uh no, you haven't paid for them so technically they're not."
"Are you joking?" Brittany can't help but laugh. "I just had to get some cash. I didn't know no one takes card here."
"Sounds like a personal problem to me. You should've been more prepared." Santana reaches in her bag and takes out a few bills. "How much do I owe you, Scott?"
"Oh well," Scott looks awkwardly between the two. "Brittany was sort of here first."
"And then she left without paying."
"I have the money now though."
"I've been had the money," Santana argues. "You never had to wait on me, Scott."
"Come on, Santana." Brittany drops her arms to her sides and pouts. "Are you really trying to steal my carrots?"
Once upon a time, that pout rendered Santana helpless. Every. Damn. Time. And honestly, the longer she stares at those blue eyes and how her bottom lip is just slightly jutted out, trembling a little for a dramatic touch…she could cave. Hell, she could pay for the damn carrots herself and gift them to Brittany at this rate!
"No." Santana squeezes her eyes shut and only opens them again when she's sure she's only looking at Scott. "How much did she pay?"
Scott still looks unsure as he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, thirty for the rest of these bunches."
"I'll give you forty."
"Really, Santana?"
"Yup! I've got forty dollars right here," Santana fans herself with the bills. "I didn't even have to make you wait, Scott."
"That's not really how this works," He says.
"Okay. You drive a hard bargain. I'll make it forty-five."
"Santana!" Brittany chastises. "Seriously?"
"Fifty then."
"Sixty!"
Santana's eyes widen but Brittany only stands her ground. "You started this."
"Ladies, please. I can always make a separate delivery later in the week?"
"Sixty-five!"
"Seventy!"
"Eighty!"
"One hun–"
"Chef!" Quinn arrives in the nick of time. She looks between her and Brittany with a puzzled look on her face. "You're not actually going to blow our budget on this? Scott, let's talk."
With Quinn there to mediate, Santana decides she'll just stick with the regular Dutch carrots and Scott will set aside the rainbow for next delivery. Brittany wins this round, but that's the only one she'll be forfeiting!
"We'll need to establish some ground rules if you're going to be here," Santana tells Brittany as they head back to the parking lot with their produce. Quinn walks in the middle of them acting as a barrier, still struggling to catch onto why there seems to be beef between them.
"Like sharing?"
"Like get your own suppliers," Santana corrects.
"How? We're in the middle of nowhere. There aren't many to choose from."
"Maybe you should leave."
"You don't mean that," Brittany says so softly Santana almost didn't hear it. When she suddenly stops walking, so does Santana and Quinn but Brittany looks at Quinn with uncertainty. "Do you mind?"
"Anything you have to say to me, you can say to her."
"So you are dating then?"
"No!" Santana and Quinn say in unison.
"Awesome, then could we have some privacy, Quinn?" Brittany asks politely although Santana knows her patience is running thin. "Please."
Quinn doesn't move though, just shifts her calculated gaze between the two until something seems to click and a knowing grin starts to spread. "Yeah, okay. I'll load this into the truck."
Santana waits until Quinn's in the truck before she attempts addressing this mess, but Brittany beats her to it.
"Santana…" Brittany says her name tiredly. "I'm not going anywhere so we're going to have to come to an agreement or something. You know we'll have to share vendors and I don't want to make things hard for us."
Santana can't help but laugh at the irony. "Really now?"
"Yes, really. So maybe you can finally take me up on my dinner offer and we can talk about it?"
"I'm not talking with you about this over dinner. This is business, you need to schedule a meeting."
"Okay. When are you free?"
"Never."
"Never?"
"I'm a very busy woman. Who knows when I'll have a free day."
"Okay. So you're too mad at me to have dinner and now you're too busy for me to discuss business?" Brittany recounts, "Sounds like you're avoiding me and that's not fair."
Santana arches her brow at that. "Fair? What isn't fair is that you popped up out of the blue, opened a restaurant down the road from me and you expect me to be okay with it! Britt, you did this."
"I know that which is why I'm trying to fix it but you aren't letting me because you love a grudge."
"I do not."
"You so do. All of this would've been cleared up weeks ago if you didn't," Brittany tells her.
Santana huffs as she crosses her arms protectively over her chest. She doesn't hold grudges. She learns from the lessons life teaches her and she adapts so she never gets fucked over again. That's not a grudge.
Brittany watches her for a moment, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're still cute when you're grumpy though so I will keep trying."
Santana grits her teeth hard to keep from reacting to Brittany's little comment. She doesn't need that reassurance; she knows she's a catch but it's Brittany at the end of the day and she'll always have a soft spot for her.
Which is exactly why she needs to go.
"I'll see you around," She says over her shoulder as she beelines it for the truck. She doesn't chance looking back, she knows it'll just make her want to stay.
\\
Quinn badgers her with questions the entire ride back to the restaurant, thankfully it's a short drive. Most of it was Quinn replaying the moment she realized who Brittany was while Santana drove in silence anyway.
"Oh good, you're back!" Rachel says just as she and Quinn return to the kitchen. "We need to talk."
"Again?" Santana groans. "Can it wait? I'm a little over talking to people I don't want to."
"It definitely cannot wait, Santana." Rachel tells her gravely. "Please join Kurt and I in our office for a little…business discussion."
Santana lets out an exasperated sigh but does as she is told. After her run in with them about her disruptive music choices, she'd rather not dig herself into a deeper hole. When she enters the office, she finds Kurt waiting while Rachel moves around the desk to sit next to him.
"Please have a seat, Santana."
Okay, now she's starting to feel a little uneasy. The sudden professionalism is so off-putting coming from those two, but she takes a seat in front of them and holds her head high.
"What's this about?" She asks.
"There are rumors circulating and we thought we would go straight to you before entertaining them," Rachel says seriously.
Santana frowns. "What kind of rumors?"
"Well – "
"Did you start a bidding war at the market?" Kurt asks, going right to the point.
"Oh." Santana's oddly relieved but unsure how news traveled so fast. "I don't know if you would call that a bidding war but yes – I did try to pay a higher price than someone else in order to secure stock that I need to ensure your business keeps on running."
Rachel facepalms while Kurt only shakes his head.
"What?" Santana asks, "I don't see a problem."
"That's not how things are done here," Rachel explains. "This is a small town, we're all about community, togetherness…sharing."
"Oh please, this is a cutthroat industry."
"Santana, we're serious," Kurt tells her. "Scott was really shaken up by the whole ordeal."
"So this is Scott's fault?" Santana asks. "I should've known he was a snitch."
"He's a concerned citizen," Rachel insists. "And rightly so considering what happened."
"What exactly has he said because you're making it sound like I got into a brawl? I went out there looking for the best stuff, built relationships, networked – all the things that I need to do in order for things to run smoothly here. But when I offer a little extra money because the vendor didn't come prepared for the extra business, you guys get mad about it?" Santana asks, "Make it make sense to me."
"It's not about the money. It's the way you went about it. We just need you respect the way things are done here, just like you always have," Kurt says.
"Right. You can't march on in there and act crazy like that," Rachel replies. "They're just carrots!"
"They're not just carrots. I created the entire dish to highlight those carrots because I've spent months listening to Scott go on and on about how this is his best crop yet. I wanted to honor that, that's what this whole menu is about! I'm supposed to just let someone take them all because what? It's the neighborly thing to do?" Santana shakes her head. "Nope, screw that. She should've ordered in advance or something because those carrots were mine."
"The extra business is great for the community especially during the holidays," Rachel says. "These are tough times. We have to support our locals by any means necessary, but that also means spreading a little Christmas cheer while we do it."
"You don't even celebrate Christmas."
"And yet, I know more about it than you do," Rachel retorts. "We'll see more tourists coming out this way because of that and because of the recent award. Now, promise us you'll be welcoming and pleasant to the newcomers."
"I'm always pleasant," Santana grumbles.
"Usually you are but you've been off your game for weeks," Kurt replies. "Whatever it is, work it out. The only things we want to hear about you are how amazing the new menu is."
"Well I don't know about that now since I'm out of carrots…"
"Santana."
Santana lets out one last huff before pasting on a smile. "I'll be as nice as I can be."
\\
The following week, Santana arrives to Market Day bright and early as she usually does. She's alone this time, Quinn choosing to hang back in order to organize the walk-in. Really, Santana thinks it's an excuse to avoid getting caught in the middle of another spat. Not that there will be one this time because Santana's being…nice.
At least, she's trying to be.
The universe decides to test that theory when she crosses paths with Brittany again about halfway through her shopping. She looks a little less chipper than the last time she saw her, but she perks up the instant she spots Santana looking her way.
"Hi!" Brittany greets happily. "Cold one this morning, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I don't remember winters being like this in the city," Santana replies. She notes Brittany's knit beanie and smiles. "I can't believe you still have that."
"What do you mean? It's my favorite," Brittany says. "Well, all the things your abuela knitted for me are my favorite. It's so warm!"
Santana nods. She tries to avoid walking down memory lane, remembering how her abuela was so excited to meet Brittany and how they spent hours bonding over telenovelas. It's tough remembering how well Brittany fit into her life back then. It was as if there was a spot for her there all along.
"You okay?" Brittany asks. "I'm almost done here so there's no need to get grumpy. I've left you lots of carrots this time."
"Thank you," Santana replies. "I guess it's important that we work together."
"We don't really have a choice but to work something out," Brittany shrugs. "You know I can't go anywhere else. We'll have to share."
"I know, so I suggest a compromise."
"Oh," Brittany looks taken aback. "I was anticipating some pushback."
"I'm trying something different," Santana explains. "I'm trying to be nice."
"Because Santa's coming to town?"
"Because it's Christmas," Santana corrects her. "And because my bosses said I have to."
Brittany laughs. "Okay. What's this compromise?"
"We can share vendors and what not," Santana replies. "But I get first pick."
Brittany ponders that for a moment before nodding. "I can work with that."
"That means no sneaky dealings behind each other's backs. No more bidding wars. When it comes to Market Days, I'll go first and you go after me."
"Deal." Brittany juts out her gloved hand. Santana takes her offered hand and they shake on it, but Brittany hangs on just a little longer. "So does you being nice mean you're open to having dinner with me?"
Santana shakes her head although she feels a smile forming on her lips. "It's probably best we keep this strictly business for now. I haven't even begun to unpack what you being back means for us."
"We could always unpack that together?"
"I need to get started on this list," Santana says instead.
"Totally. I've got to get this stuff back to the restaurant anyway," Brittany replies. For once, she actually looks a little dejected. "I'll see you when I see you."
And for once, Santana actually feels guilty for brushing her off again.
\\
The next time Santana attends Market Day, it's at the crack of dawn. She regrets declining Quinn's offer to attend in her place now that she's shivering to death in the frigid cold. To make matters worse, she has apparently arrived earlier than the vendor she's waiting to see.
Everything's achingly numb. The tip of her nose is probably frostbitten. She wiggles her toes to generate some type of warmth but she can't even tell if they're moving. Her thick jacket seems to be doing nothing to help fight off the winter chill.
But then, she spots Brittany and suddenly it doesn't seem so cold.
"We made one rule and you're already breaking it," Santana says as Brittany come to stand beside her. She is holding two Christmasy themed takeaway cups and Santana remembers what she has forgotten.
"I'm not breaking it. You still get first pick," Brittany chuckles. "I'm here to keep you warm."
Santana lets out a laugh. "I don't need you for that."
"Well, I'm here to keep you company."
"I don't need you for that either."
"Come on, San." Brittany grins as she passes her one of the cups. "Humor me."
Santana sighs as she takes the cup. "Only because I'm too cold to think straight."
"I'll take it!"
She doesn't protest when Brittany loops an arm through hers and huddles in close. Santana keeps her hands wrapped around the cup, she can smell the rich chocolatey goodness and takes a sip. With Brittany on her arm and a hot chocolate in her hands, she's unsure which does a better job of warming her up.