I Made Your Favorite--Spanna
Spencer walked into her apartment and was immediately hit by the scent of spices and cooking. She furrowed her eyebrows, unsure as to the reason her girlfriend might be cooking. It wasn’t a holiday, or an anniversary, or a birthday. She wasn’t sick in bed. And Hanna Marin did not cook without reason. Which led her to the conclusion that the woman was feeling guilty about something.
“Babe? I’m home,” she called. Hanna appeared, wearing an apron that Spencer didn’t even know she owned. Her hair was pulled back into a cute ponytail.
“Spencer! You’re home early!” Hanna exclaimed, giving her a welcome kiss. Spencer raised an eyebrow.
“I’m always home at five thirty,” she said. Hanna’s face scrunched up.
“It’s five thirty? Already?” she asked. Spencer nodded and tried to peek into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Hanna gave her an innocent shrug.
“Cooking,” she answered. “I made your favorite.”
“You don’t cook,” Spencer reminded her. Another innocent shrug.
“Can a girl do something nice for her girlfriend?” she asked. Spencer’s eyebrows raised even further, practically reaching her hairline.
“Yes, and you do nice things for me all the time. But they usually don’t involve cooking,” she pointed out. Hanna’s eager face faltered.
“Maybe I should pour you a glass of wine,” she muttered.
“What did you do?” Spencer asked. Hanna sighed.
“Let’s eat and then we’ll talk,” she suggested. Spencer gave her a dark look.
“Hanna. What. Did. You. Do?” she repeated. Hanna disappeared into the kitchen, only for Spencer to follow her. She watched as the blonde plated two large servings of lasagna, accompanied by garlic bread. She poured two glasses of wine, and placed them on the kitchen table.
“Try it,” Hanna urged, pushing a plate towards Spencer. The brunette rolled her eyes, but took a bite. She had to admit it was surprisingly good.
“Okay, no more pretending that the most you can make is toast,” she said. Hanna laughed, proud of herself.
“It’s your mom’s recipe,” she said. Spencer rolled her eyes again.
“Please, my mom made that lasagna once in her life. It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” Spencer corrected. Hanna shrugged.
“Well, it’s good either way,” she said. Spencer nodded in agreement and took another bite.
“So why exactly are you cooking tonight?” she asked. Hanna bit her bottom lip.
“Please don’t get mad at me,” she said. Spencer frowned. Usually a guilty Hanna meant an overpriced pair of shoes or a new dress. Spencer would stomp and yell, Hanna would defend her purchase, and they’d kiss and make up. Something about this was different.
“Han, just tell me what you did,” Spencer said tiredly. Hanna sighed.
“I quit my job,” she admitted. Spencer’s eyebrows shot up.
“You quit your job?” she repeated. Hanna nodded miserably.
“I know I should have talked to you about it, but Claudia was yelling and throwing things and she wanted me to work an extra twenty hours a week and I just lost it,” Hanna rambled. Spencer reached across the table to put her hand on top of Hanna’s.
“Baby, I’m not mad,” she said. Hanna’s mouth opened in a small “oh” of surprise.
“You’re not?” she asked. Spencer shook her head.
“Look, I didn’t want to say anything because I know how important your work was to you. But I’ve always thought Claudia treats you terribly and you deserve better. Things might be a little tight around here for a while, but that’s okay. We’ll figure it out. You deserve better,” she stressed. Hanna chanced a small smile.
“Thanks. Ugh, Claudia’s never going to give me a decent reference,” she complained. Spencer rolled her eyes.
“I hate to break it to you, babe, but Claudia never would have given you a decent reference, because that would mean you were leaving her. And you’re the best damn assistant she’s ever had,” she said. Hanna’s smile grew.
“You’re probably right,” she agreed.
“Of course I’m right,” Spencer said, prompting a laugh from Hanna.
“You’re really not upset that I didn’t talk to you first?” she asked. Spencer shook her head.
“I’m really not mad. Of course I want you to feel like you can talk to me, and I don’t want you to think I would have tried to talk you out of it. Ultimately it was your decision. I just want you to be happy,” she said. Hanna beamed.
“Of course, if you’re going to be home now, you should start to cook more often,” Spencer added. Hanna rolled her eyes.
“I’m going to look for another job, you know. I’m not just going to sit on my ass at home and live off of you,” she said. Spencer laughed.
“Well until then…” she trailed off, leaving the suggestion in the air.
“Until then, I will cook more. Besides, if we keep eating takeout, we’re going to get fat. Well, you won’t because you have the metabolism of a teenage boy, but I will get fat,” she said. Spencer snorted.
“Do you even understand how metabolism works?” she asked. Hanna laughed.
“No, but I know teenage boys eat whatever they want and don’t get fat. Besides, you should be focusing on the fact that I just agreed to cook for you,” she teased. Spencer grinned and bumped Hanna’s foot with her own.
“Thank you, baby. I’ll try to cook more too. I know we’ve basically been eating take out and microwavable meals since I started working at this firm,” she said apologetically.
“Spence, I grew up on Chunky Monkey and Cheese-Its. My mother hid money in a lasagna box, that’s how sure she was that no one would actually make dinner,” she reminded her. Spencer laughed at the memory. Though she had no idea what was going on when it happened, the image of Hanna cradling a box of lasagna noodles was permanently ingrained in her mind.
“Point taken. How did you learn to cook anyway?” she asked, knowing well and good that Ashley hadn’t taught her. Hanna shrugged.
“Remember when you were studying in Spain?” she asked. Spencer nodded.
“Well, I was bored and lonely and missing you, so I started making all of the things in your family recipe book. I was going to surprise you when you got home, but somehow it never happened,” she explained. Spencer’s heart warmed.
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Spencer said. Hanna giggled.
“Just wait til you see what I have planned for dessert.”