Dinner was often a sore spot for Sam, recently. She had been cooking nonstop, caring for a girlfriend, and slowly, that bitter grief had started to creep up on her. Marina's children. Marina's and Goldie's children. Not hers. It had slowly made her shoulders sag, the doberman's eyes focusing on the floor. She cursed gently as the knife slipped from her grip. She paused for a moment, recollecting the knife and finishing cutting the chicken. But she wouldn't let it be surface value, she wouldn't let that bitter feeling in her heart seep through. She stepped closer, settling the chicken into a new pan, sauteing it.

A soft kiss pressed to Goldie's cheek. She sighed gently, making sure to brown the chicken with a master toss of the pan, a soft grin touching her face. Her eyes shifted towards the other pan, leaning over and eyeing the pasta. "Oi, you're not turning that into mush, are you?" She questioned gently, her voice teasing and a sharp grin on her muzzle. She tossed the chicken again, drizzling some spices onto them with a gentle huff. She was hungry, damnit.

"SPEECH"

Her eyebrows rose, a bit, as Goldie took it with an overdramatic reaction. She chuckled softly, tossing the chicken in the spices a bit more. Her own hind leg bumped against Gold's her body shifting as she waited for her to drain the noodles. Sam blinked, idly, at the fancy bending, electing in a whine before responding. "That's cheating. And showing off. At the same time." She said, her wings fluffing up as if she was being targeted by this display. She looked at Goldie, then frowning at her, simply conjured the chicken from one pan to the other one. She then tilted her nose up in the air, sticking her tongue out.

The dinner had been going smoother then she had expected it to. Some part of her, deep down, told her to explode, to yell at Goldie. The sight of someone else's pelt sticking to the children's genetics had hurt, deeper down then that voice. But she knew from history, from Dean, exploding was not the way to get what she wanted. Her eyes dwelled on the pasta, before wrinkling her nose. She shook her head, trying to toss those thoughts away, looking towards Goldie with a half grin, her ears twitching.

"SPEECH"

The solid truth, judging by the acid that Sam tasted in her mouth every time she caught sight of the jaguar, was that she often couldn't tell the difference. The talks that they had, Sam didn't trust like that. This might have been Goldie, of all people, but watching those two talk to each other in hushed voices had made the Doberman sick. But she wore that mask, one that proved that she was going to be okay with all of this Goldie. Because, in the end, she was some loser chasing at the tail of a Princess who had her own ambitions. Her own choices.

In other words, it wasn't for Sam to decide.

"I'm not going to burn myself." She responded hotly, her wings shuffling a bit as she pointedly made herself a bowl, one that left half of the pasta for Goldie, regardless of how big the dish was before she took her portion. Carefully holding the bowl in her mouth, she perused her way to the table, settling it down and sighing a tiny bit. "One candlelit dinner.. comin' right up." She muttered to herself, something off in her tone, as her paw lifted. A small flame ignited at her paw tips, catching the wicks of the candle's on fire. She lowered her paw, sitting down and waiting to be joined by her girlfriend.

"SPEECH"