[ and why wouldn’t he want to be that bargaining chip? sam knows of nothing that could be more honorable, nothing that could be more worthy, than getting his nana’s fried chicken to the table. it would depend, probably, on where it was they decided to run off to - would depend on the grocery store, the supplies on hand - but sam is good at adapting. good at making the most of their situation. good at keeping going. and that is what he’ll do.
natasha was out for the night, probably the next couple of nights, so sam knows the poker conversation has reached its end - but it doesn’t stop sam’s mind from wandering to her. to wanda. to their little family, their little team. he worries, because he can’t not worry, but he knows that steve rogers carries enough concern in that stupid blond head for all of them, so sam doesn’t focus. chooses, instead, to make jokes. to try for ease. to crack into comments and places and lives that none of them want to talk about - not really - so sam goes out of his way to say it first. to talk. to fill the space.
it leads him into complicated territory - because sometimes diving off rooftops brings you to the ground faster than planned - but sam’s good at this. can keep this going. knows, even if they reach an impasse, he can work them all out of it.
and where it concerns steve rogers - god, where does sam even start, if not as a friend? concerned for him, first, without shying away from the fact he was just a soldier, once, even if he’s captain america, now. so sam waits, sam offers both the place to test this unsteady ground, but a path away from it too. because steve rogers is more than just cap, and even if that more is littered with discomforts, it is worth returning to. so when steve offers a half-step in that direction, sam warms to it. smiles. shrugs, easily, like there’s nothing complicated about this at all. ]
Nana herself, actually. Then Mama, then my sister. You didn’t really get the option to pass when a Wilson woman wanted to dance. [ there is half a moment of memories, there. of family reunions, of weddings, of funerals. graduations and memorial day barbecues and everything in between. sam isn’t even taken by the list of them because they are as much a part of him as breathing.
he laughs, though, when steve asks what kind of dancing. soft and simple. ] Depends on the music. Swing, two step, could just be dancing for dancing’s sake. It didn’t always need a name, back home. Why- looking for something in particular?
[ and that was sam pushing boundaries, sam edging back into that potentially tense territory. if steve wanted to talk about it, this would be the last time sam would push. if he didn’t, well, it would be easy to adjust from here - like a flight path, like wings in the wind.
then it was steve’s turn to catch him mid- thought, sam’s eyes going a bit wide as he turns back to the stove. ] Shit-
[ the next few moments are filled with a flurry of movement, of sam back to the stove, to the chicken that was a little crispy, now, but not inedible. sam talks through most of it - comments about how the women in his life would have his hide, how steve can never tell sarah about this, how the chicken should be fine as long as they get some of this sauce out-
and, with a few of those minutes passed by, there are plates. of chicken, of veggies, maybe even some rice. sam did what he could with the meal, and what he could isn’t actually all that bad. and once it’s plated, once steve’s got his own dinner set, sam will stand with his hands on his hips. ]
no subject
natasha was out for the night, probably the next couple of nights, so sam knows the poker conversation has reached its end - but it doesn’t stop sam’s mind from wandering to her. to wanda. to their little family, their little team. he worries, because he can’t not worry, but he knows that steve rogers carries enough concern in that stupid blond head for all of them, so sam doesn’t focus. chooses, instead, to make jokes. to try for ease. to crack into comments and places and lives that none of them want to talk about - not really - so sam goes out of his way to say it first. to talk. to fill the space.
it leads him into complicated territory - because sometimes diving off rooftops brings you to the ground faster than planned - but sam’s good at this. can keep this going. knows, even if they reach an impasse, he can work them all out of it.
and where it concerns steve rogers - god, where does sam even start, if not as a friend? concerned for him, first, without shying away from the fact he was just a soldier, once, even if he’s captain america, now. so sam waits, sam offers both the place to test this unsteady ground, but a path away from it too. because steve rogers is more than just cap, and even if that more is littered with discomforts, it is worth returning to. so when steve offers a half-step in that direction, sam warms to it. smiles. shrugs, easily, like there’s nothing complicated about this at all. ]
Nana herself, actually. Then Mama, then my sister. You didn’t really get the option to pass when a Wilson woman wanted to dance. [ there is half a moment of memories, there. of family reunions, of weddings, of funerals. graduations and memorial day barbecues and everything in between. sam isn’t even taken by the list of them because they are as much a part of him as breathing.
he laughs, though, when steve asks what kind of dancing. soft and simple. ] Depends on the music. Swing, two step, could just be dancing for dancing’s sake. It didn’t always need a name, back home. Why- looking for something in particular?
[ and that was sam pushing boundaries, sam edging back into that potentially tense territory. if steve wanted to talk about it, this would be the last time sam would push. if he didn’t, well, it would be easy to adjust from here - like a flight path, like wings in the wind.
then it was steve’s turn to catch him mid- thought, sam’s eyes going a bit wide as he turns back to the stove. ] Shit-
[ the next few moments are filled with a flurry of movement, of sam back to the stove, to the chicken that was a little crispy, now, but not inedible. sam talks through most of it - comments about how the women in his life would have his hide, how steve can never tell sarah about this, how the chicken should be fine as long as they get some of this sauce out-
and, with a few of those minutes passed by, there are plates. of chicken, of veggies, maybe even some rice. sam did what he could with the meal, and what he could isn’t actually all that bad. and once it’s plated, once steve’s got his own dinner set, sam will stand with his hands on his hips. ]
Well? Try it, I wanna know.