After the beans had boiled for a few minutes, Brittany carried the pot off the stove to drain them. Then, she checked on the chicken: the top with all the seasoning had turned a golden brown, and the smell of the lemon juice was permeating the apartment. It smelled pretty good; Brittany was proud. The potatoes had been in longest, but they were probably just getting done too. Pulling it all out of the oven, Brittany started portioning the food onto two plates. Then, she placed them on the counter and took the other chair next to Santana.
"I hope you like it," she said quietly. She felt oddly nervous, like she really wanted Santana's approval.
"It looks and smells delicious. Thank you," Santana said politely.
Both girls dug in. It tasted pretty good to Brittany, but she still waited for Santana's opinion. After a few bites, Santana sat down her fork and looked up at the blonde.
"Brittany, this is so good," she said, not waiting long to take another bite. Brittany exhaled, relieved and happy that Santana liked her cooking.
"I didn't know cooking amazing food was in your job description," Santana said after another minute and winked.
Brittany looked at her in mock surprise. "You mean your last receptionist didn't cook for you?!"
An intrigued expression crossed Santana's face before she answered. "Actually, I've never had a receptionist before. You're my first."
Brittany chewed on that information for a moment, wondering why. It was odd for any larger New York attorney to not have an assistant.
"Did you not work for a very big firm before?"
"I—uh...asked not to have one, actually."
It was on the tip of Brittany's tongue to ask if Santana had wanted one when she took this job, but she changed her mind. Maybe she didn't want to know.
The rest of dinner was spent making small talk, but with Santana, it was perfectly enjoyable. When they were finished, Santana helped Brittany put all the dishes into the sink.
"I'll wash these, since you cooked such a great dinner."
Brittany placed the last dish in the sink and looked at the tiny brunette. "Tell you what, you wash those. I'll make dessert."
"There's more?!" Santana asked happily. God, she was the cutest thing in the world Brittany had ever wanted to also slam against a wall and heatedly make out with.
"What's a real meal without dessert?"
As Santana washed the dishes, Brittany started making her family's recipe of sugar cookies. Her mom and grandma had been making them for as long as she could remember. Santana was finishing up the last dish when Brittany finished rolling the last ball of dough. After putting the raw cookies in the oven, she looked for her little timer to make sure they didn't burn. It was resting on the counter on the other side of Santana.
Scooting behind Santana in the small space, she reached for the timer with one hand, while the other seemed to automatically find the brunette's hip and rest there. Santana almost instantly turned around to face the blonde, and in that moment, Brittany was the closest she'd been to kissing the woman since that time in the office.
She looked down at full lips for a split second before she forced herself as far back as the small space would allow.
"Er...sorry...was reaching for this," Brittany said as she held up the timer lamely.
Santana smirked her signature smirk and nodded. "Uh huh," she said softly.
"Um..." Brittany said, clearing her throat. "Would you like to wait in the living room with me? The oven...it's getting a little warm in here."
Santana gave her a knowing smile before tearing her eyes away and heading for the couch. Brittany quickly set the timer and followed.
"So..." Brittany said as she sat down on the couch next to Santana.
"So..." Santana responded, giving Brittany her mind-reading gaze again. "Any more theories about me you'd like to share?"
Brittany gulped. She had lots of theories about Santana, but they were all crazy and probably wrong.
"Er...nope. But you could just save me the trouble of creating new theories and tell me stuff."
Santana smiled, like she was contemplating that. "What do you want to know?"
Good sign. Brittany decided to go with easy questions. "Where did you go to law school?"
"Columbia. I graduated almost three years ago," she said tonelessly. As if graduating from an Ivy League university was no big deal.
"Impressive," Brittany said quietly. "Three years ago...so that makes you...?"
"Twenty-seven," she said with a small smile.
"Oh, me too!" Brittany replied happily. For some reason, she really liked that they were the same age.
"Where did you grow up?" she fired away again. She was going to ask questions until Santana didn't want to answer anymore.
The brunette took a sip of her wine before answering. "Outside of Chicago," she said slowly.
"And that's where your family is from?"
For some reason, Santana took a deep breath as if she had to think about it. "Yes, that's where they're from."
Brittany was about to fire off her next question when the timer in the kitchen dinged, signaling that the cookies were done.
"Saved by the bell," Brittany said with a wink, getting up to pull them out. She brought a plate over to Santana and watched as she took a bite.
"Wow...that's really good, too. You're quite talented, Ms. Pierce."
"Thank you, Ms. Lopez...although with these, I can't take the credit. Family recipe. Mom taught me when I was a teenager."
Santana nodded, but her expression was unreadable. Brittany swore that for a split second, she almost looked sad.
"So..." Brittany said, picking up a cookie and taking a bite herself, "can I ask more questions now?"
"So curious..." Santana said softly, a playful smile pulling at her lips. "What do I get for answering all these questions?"
"A free meal wasn't enough?"
"Someone once told me there's no such thing as a free meal," Santana retorted quickly.
Brittany smiled. "Touché," she said lightheartedly. Without breaking eye contact, she scooted closer to the brunette on the couch and took one of her hands. She held it in one hand and began to trace lines with the other.
Santana's skin was always so smooth. She smiled at the blonde, silently giving the okay for more questions. Brittany thought she might as well try her luck.
"Are you glad that you came here today? That you said yes?" Brittany started tracing her lines farther up, passing Santana's wrist and circling her forearm.
Santana looked down at Brittany's moving hand. "Yes," she said quietly.
Brittany moved even further up, tracing the line in the crook of Santana's elbow.
"Does this feel good?"
The woman closed her eyes at Brittany's wandering touch. "Yes," she said again. Her voice was fainter.
Brittany scooted closer; their knees were now touching. She raised her hand higher, letting her fingers lightly graze Santana's bicep. The blonde was eternally grateful that Santana had worn a sleeveless shirt today.
"What are you thinking right now?" she whispered, letting her fingertips roam under the edge of Santana's shirt. She felt the bump that was the end of Santana's collar bone on her shoulder. She wanted to reach further.
Santana's eyes were still closed, but she opened them to answer Brittany's question.
"I'm thinking that your fingers are magic. And I wonder what else they could make me feel."
Well. Hot damn.
Before Brittany could say anything, Santana spoke again.
"I'm also thinking I should probably go. Or this non-date will no longer be a non-date soon."
Brittany gave Santana's hand a final squeeze before letting go and scooting back again.
"You're right. I'm sorry," Brittany apologized with her head hung.
Santana lifted Brittany's chin with her hand. "It's okay. I was enjoying it too. I just don't think I'm ready...but I tend to momentarily forget that when you're around."
Brittany smiled. "I won't slip up again," she said solemnly.
"Never say never," Santana said with a wink. There it went again, Brittany's crazy heartbeat.
Brittany got up and walked to the door to begin putting her shoes on.
"What are you doing?" Santana asked, joining her at the door.
"Walking you to your car, silly."
"Brittany, you don't have to. You made me dinner, and it was wonderful. You don't have to walk me back to the firm."
"No, but I want to. You always walk back alone, and I—just, come on," she urged, smiling at the brunette.
Santana sighed but didn't protest further. She was smiling too.
Walking down the street again, Santana took Brittany's hand without prompting this time. Yes, it was starting to feel very natural indeed—if something so natural could always give you butterflies.
When they reached the parking deck, almost all the cars were gone. Santana pressed a little button on her car key, and a black sports car beeped and flashed its lights a few spaces down. When they reached it, Brittany checked the rear side. An Audi. Damn.
"Cool car," Brittany said, impressed.
Santana shrugged like she had with the school thing.
"Can I give you a ride back?"
"You know, it won't take long to walk," Brittany reminded her.
"And it'll take even less time if I drive you," Santana said matter-of-factly. Brittany smiled and walked around to the other side. "Let's go."
Santana's car was just as cool on the inside, and within minutes, they were out in front of Brittany's apartment again. Randomly, Brittany thought of Maggie and Grace, sitting in a car saying good night over 70 years ago.
"Good night, Santana," she whispered. "Because this wasn't a date, I'm not going to kiss you. But you should know that I want to."
Santana smiled, like that information pleased her.
"Also," Brittany continued, her hand on the car door handle, "when I said earlier that you should think about something else at night...I meant it. And if you chose me to be that something else...well, I'd be okay with that."
The brunette's smile widened. God, Brittany loved her smile.
"I'll keep that in mind," she whispered back. "Good night, Ms. Pierce."
"Good night, Ms. Lopez."
Brittany got out of the car and made her way up her building's steps. She hadn't felt this content in a long time.