As Brittany had anticipated, the day was going by rather quickly. Before she knew it, Santana's 11 o'clock was already leaving, and it was time for Brittany to take her lunch. Knowing she needed to grab a few things if she was making dinner for two, she ducked her head into Santana's office before leaving.
"I'm about to take my lunch while you've got a break. Do you need anything?" Brittany asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"So attentive," Santana said with a wink at her from behind her desk. "I'm fine, but thanks."
"Do you like chicken?" Brittany blurted out without any preamble.
A very amused expression crossed Santana's face before she answered. She seemed to be suppressing a smile.
"Yes, I do," she said seriously. "Do you like peanut butter?"
Brittany's expression instantly became confused, but she smiled in spite of herself.
"Um...yes? Why are you asking me that?"
"I thought we were asking each other random questions." Her amused expression was still on her face, and Brittany realized how odd it must have sounded to just ask if she liked chicken without any context. Without another word, Brittany started laughing. For some reason, she found the situation hilarious. Her laughter was starting to get out of control, and she knew soon she'd reach that point where no sound even comes out anymore; she'd just look like a laughing mime. The thought only made her laugh harder. Pretty soon, she heard Santana start to chuckle at her. At first, it was just a soft, amused little laugh, but like Brittany, she soon began to laugh harder. It was then that Brittany realized she'd never heard Santana laugh—really laugh—before. It was a delightful sound, and Brittany knew she'd do anything to hear it again.
Both girls cackled for a few more moments, but eventually, their giggle fits started to subside. Brittany felt more lighthearted than she had in a long time. She looked over at Santana, who was breathing kind of hard from their outbursts; she was smiling and, for once, didn't look tired at all.
"Thanks for that," Santana said breathlessly.
Brittany smiled at her, elated that she'd made her laugh.
"I had a reason, you know. I wasn't just asking about your poultry preferences for fun."
Santana cracked another grin at her and raised an eyebrow, indicating she should continue.
"I'm going to pick up some things for dinner tonight on my break. I can make chicken, if you're okay with that."
"Chicken sounds wonderful," Santana said. It sounded sincere.
"Then I'll be back shortly," Brittany said happily. She left the office with a spring in her step.
After quickly picking up what she needed for tonight's meal at a nearby grocery store, she rushed to her apartment and tossed everything in the refrigerator. Then, she hastily downed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of water before heading back to the firm. When she got off the elevator, she had exactly one minute to spare before her lunch hour was up. Now, all she had to do was hope that the rest of the day would hurry up.
Luckily, someone seemed to have granted her wish. While Brittany lost herself in thinking about the countless possibilities for how the evening would go, Santana's last client walked out of the office, and it was five minutes to 5 o'clock. Brittany went ahead and put her purse and keys on the desk, counting down the last seconds like it was New Years. When her phone announced that it was time to go, she stood up and leaned once again against the doorframe.
"I'm ready when you are," she said happily.
Santana set her pen down and snapped her book shut.
"Punctual. Or are you just that excited?"
Brittany smiled. Hell yes, she was excited.
"Dunno what you're talking about," she joked.
Santana smiled like she saw right through everything and stood up with her purse. "Shall we?"
Brittany nodded and began heading in the direction of the elevator. On their way out, she scooped up her purse and keys, ecstatic that her non-date with Santana was about to start.
Once out in the street, they began making their way back to Brittany's apartment in the fading evening light. Brittany made it about 20 paces before she looked over at Santana expectantly.
"What? Not gonna take my hand this time?"
Santana looked down at their hands, mere inches from one another. "I told you this wasn't a date."
Brittany smiled; she'd been expecting Santana to say that. "Yesterday wasn't a date either."
Santana looked up in fake shock.
"Did you just lawyer me?!"
"Consider yourself lawyered," Brittany retorted.
"Well, in that case, I guess I have no choice..." she trailed off, looking ahead. She slipped her hand into Brittany's. The blonde smiled in triumph.
Once at Brittany's apartment, both women went straight to the kitchen. Brittany grabbed the two raw potatoes she'd bought earlier, fished out a peeler from the drawer, and handed everything to Santana.
"You can peel these!" Brittany said, as if such a task was like winning a prize.
"Hey now..." Santana responded, a suspicious look on her face, "I thought you were making me dinner."
"I'm making the chicken, which takes less time but far more skill," Brittany said simply, nudging the potatoes a little closer to the brunette. "And you agreed to help, so get crackin'..."
"I don't remember there being any 'agreeing'..." Santana retorted around a grin, but she went to the sink and quickly washed her hands before sitting back down at the counter and began to peel the first potato.
"Do you want a glass of wine?" Brittany asked, watching Santana work.
"Now we're talkin'," said Santana, concentrating hard on her potato. Brittany poured a glass and set it beside her boss. After Santana finished the first potato, she took a sip.
"Thanks," she said happily, picking up the second one and beginning to peel. Brittany too washed her hands and began chopping the peeled potato. After both potatoes were peeled and chopped, she tossed the lot into some aluminum foil with some black pepper, closed the foil, and tossed it in the oven.
"Do you like cooking?" asked Santana, having another sip of her wine as Brittany pulled the chicken from the refrigerator.
The blonde set it down on the counter and began tearing off the plastic covering.
"Yes, although I don't often cook like this. It's a lot of work for one person, you know?"
Santana nodded and watched Brittany as she cut away the parts they weren't going to eat.
"You said you had a theory, earlier. About my sleeping."
Brittany smiled. She had wondered how long it would take for Santana to ask. She put the chicken in a glass baking pan and threw on some lemon juice, seasoning, and more pepper before answering.
"I do," she finally responded, looking up at Santana before putting the chicken in the oven, along with the potatoes. She reached into the refrigerator again and pulled out a bag of fresh green beans, then grabbed a new knife.
"When I have trouble sleeping or falling asleep," she said as she began slicing the ends off the beans, "it's usually because I can't make my brain shut up about one thing or another."
She looked up at Santana pointedly. "I think you probably have too much on your mind at the end of the day, and you can't turn your brain off."
The woman opened her mouth to respond, but Brittany cut her off.
"You don't need to tell me what it is...I just think that's why you can't sleep."
Brittany finished cutting off the ends and put the beans in a small pot before filling it with water. She set the pot on the stovetop to boil. Everything would be done in just a few minutes.
"And...if that were the problem...what would you suggest I do?" asked Santana, taking another sip of wine. Brittany got out another glass and poured herself some.
Brittany took a sip and smiled at her boss before answering.
"You should think about something your brain doesn't mind...dwelling on. That's what I do."
"And that works?" Santana asked incredulously.
"Like a charm."