dinner for two.
deadshotsam:
“You know, the more you keep talking shit about my beard, it only makes it clear just how much you actually like it.” Olive eyes held a look that bordered on smug as he shook his head at her cheeky kiss off. Talk of family recipes had his brow arching, and Sam had to admit (at least silently) that he was kind of impressed. The idea of voicing it had crossed his mind until her smart comment of tasty things and he cut her a look before sitting down at the table. “Well I didn’t see any takeout containers in the trash, so I’ll take your word on this ‘homecooked meal’. He kept his teasing light, not wanting to actually insult her; there was a nervous energy rolling off her, subtle, but still easy to spot, especially with how quickly she tacked on the snark after her oddly sweet inquiry. “It was a day. Same old. Ran some errands, worked out, and my apartment’s still standing after you did a few rounds in the kitchen. Long as I don’t end up poisoned by your tamales, I’d say this day might end up decent.” It was his turn to flash her a playful grin, while he reached for his napkin to place in his lap. “No bloodshed. Today, at least.”
Santana’s response was a dramatic flip of her long black hair. True, she did, but there was no need to completely call her out on it, she thought, huffing in another response to his claims. “Well,” not one to go down without a little fight, “how could it not grow on me when it was quite the assistant when you were feasting on moi. Did you give it a bonus in appreciation for its work by letting it grow a few inches since?” She asked, lips protruding out in a pout, with deep brown eyes, wide with innocence, as she said it oh so nonchalantly, and began to shovel food onto her plate like she just delivered a generic line about the weather.
She scooted up to the table, taking a sip of the beer and cutting her food into tiny pieces, “it’s cute you think you’re worth ruining a perfectly good recipe with poison,” she winked at him, chuckling at her own joke. “No bloodshed? Jeeze, you must really miss carting me ‘round on the job. I mean, not only are you missing out on some full scoping access of my ass, but you must be cruising on snooze now.” She continued to joke, sipping more on her beer in hope it would take a fast liking to her nerves to extinguish them. “Has that every happened, bloodshed on the job?” She asked, finally - after a few moments of shifting through her food with her fork, and cutting it in even smaller pieces - took a bite of her food. Her curiosity was genuine, as she peeked at Sam through her thick eyelashes, chewing her food slowly.
