Origano and Basilico

Maya was just finishing up at the fire station when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and felt a jolt of excitement as she saw an unfamiliar number.

Unknown:Ciao, Maya. This is Carina. Andrea gave me your schedule, and I would love to cook for you. Come by tomorrow evening?

Maya grinned, rereading the message twice. Andrea, eh? She smirked, storing the little revelation away as carefully as she stored Carina’s number in her contacts. 

Maya:I’d love that. What time?

Carina:Seven. But if work keeps you late, please don’t worry. I know how shifts go. 

Maya smiled to herself. You have no idea.

She felt an unfamiliar flicker of anticipation. It wasn’t just because everyone had hyped Carina up to be some incredible person—it was something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And for once, Maya wanted to make a good impression.

Of course, things never go as planned…

What should have been a straightforward shift turned into the toughest twelve hours she’d had in months —a multi-car pileup, a gas leak scare, and a last-minute call just as she thought she was free. By the time she clocked out, she was running late, sweaty, and nowhere near as put-together as she had hoped. She hadn’t even had time to pick up flowers or a bottle of wine. She groaned as she ran a hand through her hair. This wasn’t how she wanted her first encounter with Carina to go, but there was no way to salvage it now.

By the time she finally reached Andrew’s apartment, she was a mess—flustered, breathless, and absolutely not cool and collected. She knocked, shifting awkwardly on her feet as she tried to shake off the stress of the day. The door swung open, and Andrew grinned at her.

“Wow,” he teased, “You look... rushed.”

“Why, thank you, Andrea.” Maya drawled knowingly, earning a death stare from the younger DeLuca. 

She sighed apologetically, “Look. I’m sorry. I know I’m late. I didn’t even bring anything—”

Andrew held up a hand. “Maya. It’s fine. Carina gets it.”

Still, Maya felt the weight of her own expectations pressing down on her. But before she could dwell on it, Andrew stepped aside, letting her in.

The moment Maya walked inside, she was hit with the warm, rich scent of garlic and tomatoes. She’d been in Andrew’s apartment plenty of times, but it looked different. It felt different. It was cosy, the lighting soft, and the table already set with wine glasses and candles. 

And then she saw her.

Carina DeLuca.

Maya had pictured her a dozen different ways, but nothing had quite prepared her for this. Carina was standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot with a casual grace that made it seem like she belonged there, like she belonged anywhere. She was dressed casually in a loose off the shoulder sweater and cropped jeans. Her wavy, long dark hair framed her face, her brown eyes warm and inquisitive, her smile easy but knowing—like she already had Maya figured out.

“Ah, finally,” Carina said, her voice laced with amusement as she turned to face Maya fully. “The mysterious firefighter who has been avoiding me.”

Maya huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of her neck nervously, whilst trying not to think about the effect Carina’s Italian accent was having on her. “Not avoiding. Just...really bad timing.” 

Carina’s gaze swept over her—Maya suddenly feeling self-conscious, her messy hair and the lingering scent of smoke and sweat clinging to her. But Carina didn’t seem bothered. In fact, she looked intrigued.

Andrew clapped a hand on Maya’s shoulder, snapping her out of her daze. “See? Told you she wouldn’t mind.”

Maya exhaled, nodding. “Yeah, well... thanks for having me.”

Carina arched her brow with a teasing smile. “Of course. Though I must admit, from everything I’ve heard, I expected someone a little more... put together.”

Maya snorted, narrowed her eyes playfully. “Wow! First impression, and you’re already roasting me?”

Andrew grinned. “That’s how you know she likes you.” Carina rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Maya found herself smiling despite herself.

Andrew poured Maya a glass of wine, easing her into the conversation. She was surprised by how comfortable it felt —the three of them chatting, laughing and sharing stories. It wasn’t long before the tension in her shoulders finally started to fade. Carina turned out to be every bit as confident and sharp as Maya had heard. She should have felt intimidated but there was a warmth and friendliness to Carina that put her at ease.

Maya found herself watching the way Carina moved around the kitchen, the way she talked with her hands, the way she seemed completely at ease in her own skin. And then, just as Maya was starting to relax, Andrew’s pager buzzed.

“Damn it,” he muttered, checking the screen. He sighed, standing up. “I have to go. Trauma case.”

Carina sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes, “You see? I come all this way, and already, my brother abandons me.”

Andrew shot her a look. “You’ll survive.” He turned to Maya, furrowing his brow slightly. “You’ll be okay?”

Maya hesitated, glancing at Carina.

Carina just smiled, pouring another glass of wine with a flourish. “She’ll be fine.”

Andrew smirked, then gave Carina a pointed look, tapping her playfully on the nose with his finger before waggling it at her, “Be nice.” Carina just picked up her glass and sipped her wine innocently. 

And then, suddenly, it was just the two of them.

This was supposed to be a casual dinner, but it felt different. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, or the way the candlelight flickered against Carina’s features, or the way Carina was looking at her now — curious, amused, interested.

“So, Maya,” Carina said, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me. Are you always this flustered, or is that just the effect I have on you?”

Maya let out a short laugh, shaking her head, as she felt her cheeks flush. “I swear I’m usually more composed than this.”

Carina tilted her head, studying her intently. “I don’t know. I like this version of you.”

Maya swallowed. There was a weight to those words, an awareness between them that neither of them had acknowledged yet. And it seemed crazy, because they had just met. But Maya knew this wasn’t just going to be a one-time dinner. This wasn’t her usual Wednesday night hookup. This was something else entirely.

And for the first time in a long time, Maya wasn’t sure whether to be excited or terrified.

Maya took another sip of wine, trying to stay composed as Carina regarded her over the rim of her own glass. The food was incredible—rich, perfectly seasoned, and unlike anything she had eaten in a long time.

“I have to admit,” Maya said, setting her fork down.

“This is probably the best meal I’ve had in months.” 

Carina feigned shock. “Months? Maya, please tell me you are not surviving on takeout.”

Maya cleared her throat and shifted in her chair. “I mean... I cook sometimes.”

Carina arched a sceptical eyebrow. “Define ‘cook.’”

Maya scoffed lightly, pretending to be offended, “I know how to turn on an oven… and a microwave. I—I make a mean protein shake…”

Carina scrunched her nose and let out a low, amused hum. “Mamma mia. I can see I have my work cut out for me.”

Maya huffed, shaking her head, but before she could fire back, Carina leaned in slightly, resting her chin on her hand. 

“So, Maya Bishop,” she said slowly and deliberately, her eyes flickering with amusement, “Andrea tells me you already know a little about my work.”

Maya paused, her eyes widening slightly, wine glass halfway to her lips. Andrew had warned her the conversation would inevitably turn towards this topic, so she mentally braced herself, determined not to get flustered, 

“I—yeah. He mentioned your research.”

Carina’s grin widened. “Ah, so you know about the female orgasm.”

Maya nearly choked. Carina’s laughter was rich and delighted as Maya cleared her throat, struggling to regain composure. “I mean, yeah, obviously I know about it. I just didn’t think it would be the first thing you brought up at dinner.”

Carina tilted her head innocently, her gaze unwavering. “Why not? It’s important, no? And fascinating.”

Maya blinked, trying to decide if she was toying with her. “Andrew was right. You really do just talk about this with everyone, don’t you?”

Carina shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? You Americans are so strange about these things.” She studied Maya for a moment, biting her bottom lip, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Are you blushing, Maya?”

“No.” Maya protested, leaning back in her chair, silently cursing the warmth she could feel creeping up her neck. And it wasn’t just the mention of orgasms—it was the way Carina said her name. Low and lilting, teasing, like she was savouring every syllable. 

Carina grinned, swirling her wine. “I think you are.”

Maya narrowed her eyes playfully. “You enjoy this, don’t you? Making people squirm?”

 “A little bit,” Carina smirked, her eyes crinkling with amusement as she gestured with her hand, pinched her thumb and forefinger together.

Maya let out a breath, shaking her head with a smile. “You are nothing like your brother.”

Carina laughed. “Oh, I know.”

The conversation flowed easily—but beneath it, something else simmered. And Maya could feel it.

After dinner, they moved to the sofa, wine glasses still in hand. The teasing energy between them lingered, but as the conversation shifted, so did the atmosphere.

Maya hesitated, meeting Carina’s gaze. It was expectant, knowing, like she could already guess what Maya was about to say.

“So… Andrew mentioned the reason you came to Seattle.”

Carina sighed, her playful expression shifting slightly. “Ah. He told you.”

Maya nodded. “He said you worry about him. Because of your dad.”

Maya let the silence settle, giving Carina the space to sit with her words—she didn’t push.

“I know I cannot control what happens. But it is hard. To watch someone you love and wonder—will today be the day something changes?”

Her voice was even, but Maya caught the way her jaw tensed, the flicker of sadness in her eyes. Carina paused, exhaling through her nose, then carefully set her glass down.

“Andrea is strong. But I remember when we were children… how my father started to unravel.”

Her lips pressed together tightly, and for the first time that night, Maya saw a flicker of hesitation in her, a crack in the usual confidence Carina carried so effortlessly. She lifted her gaze again, but this time it was distant, haunted.

“And I—I stayed behind because I thought I could fix it. I thought I could save him.” She blinked rapidly, fidgeting with the hem of her jumper.

Maya studied her carefully, the physical cues that spoke of an inner struggle, the subtle tension in her frame carrying the weight of what she wasn’t saying, like she was holding something inside. 

Maya kept her voice gentle, quiet, but steady. “You don’t think you could?”

Carina exhaled, eyes glistening with wistful vulnerability, “I think some things are bigger than love.”

The words sat between them, heavy and true.

Maya reached out before she even realized what she was doing, her fingers skimming softly over Carina’s wrist, a barely-there touch meant to anchor, to reassure. “For what it’s worth… I think Andrew’s lucky to have you looking out for him.”

Carina stilled.

She looked down at their hands, her fingers twitching slightly, as if considering whether to turn her wrist and hold on. Then she looked back up, and something in her expression shifted—something undeniably softer, but no less intense.

“And you?” she asked, voice quiet, cautious.

“What about me?” Maya frowned slightly, feeling a prickle of anxiety at the sudden shift of focus.

Carina tilted her head just a fraction, her dark eyes were intense yet unbearably gentle as she searched Maya’s.

“Who looks out for you, Maya?”

Maya’s breath hitched. No one had ever asked her that before. The temptation to laugh it off felt overwhelming, but she couldn’t. Because Carina was looking at her like she already knew the answer.

Silence stretched between them. Then, Carina’s eyes flickered to Maya’s lips—just briefly, but enough for Maya to notice.

Her pulse spiked. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to lean in or run. 

She didn’t have time to decide because Carina’s phone buzzed on the table, shattering the moment.

Maya exhaled sharply, leaning back, her heart thudding in her chest. Carina let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “That was dramatic, no?”

Maya let out a dry chuckle. “A little.”

Carina picked up her phone, glancing at the screen before setting it back down. “It’s Andrea. Probably checking if I scared you away.”

Maya chuckled, puffing out a breath. “You almost did.”

Carina grinned, her eyes dancing. “Almost.” They sat there for a moment, neither of them moving.  

Eventually, Maya sighed, setting her glass down. “I should probably go.”

Carina’s head dipped in quiet acknowledgement, but there was something hesitant in the way she stood up, like she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end either.

Maya hesitated at the door before glancing back. “This was… fun.”

Carina’s lips curled at the edges, tilting her head, her gaze warm and searching. “Yes, Maya Bishop, it was.”

Maya lingered for just a second too long.

Then she left.