[ It's true that Natasha and Wanda are never far from Steve's thoughts and he'll continue to worry about them until he hears some kind of word, but he also knows that he needs to be patient. Natasha has done her best to instill that trait in him despite the fact that it's not his nature. He isn't the sort of person who can just sit around on his hands when he could be doing something. But this is her world, not his, and so Steve has done his best to wait when she tells him to, when she insists she's got things under control.
He trusts her. It's as simple as that. Just like he trusts Sam to be there for him in this excruciating waiting period, even if that means that they're making a meal together (well, Steve's mainly just supervising) and talking about poker and dancing and whatever else might come to mind.
There's still this sense of guilt, this imperative that he should be doing more, but Steve manages to bury it down and focus on Sam, on the here and now. And of course, Steve also wants to make sure that Sam stays steady through all of this too. He'll put on a strong face just like the rest of them, but living like this isn't easy (their current safehouse aside) and Steve feels responsible for making sure that every member of their little band of fugitives is okay, in the end.
So Sam learned how to dance from the women of his family. He should have guessed, as it seems like that's where so much of Sam Wilson came about, built up brick by brick by this long legacy. Steve's own family had just been his mother and Bucky, pretty much, and he wonders what it would have been like to have a huge family like Sam, to always be surrounded by that sort of love and support. It really does explain how Sam is the way that he is — rock solid, an anchor, and so full of consideration and love for others.
If anyone was going to teach him to dance, why not Sam Wilson?
Of course, then it becomes clear that Sam had forgotten the food and so Steve isn't given any opportunity to answer that question as he rushes over after him, doing his best to provide any help that he can in salvaging the meal. He gets the plates ready, at least, and scrubs out the dishes as soon as Sam's done with them just to make sure that no lasting damage is done to any of the pans. Nothing has burned, there's no actual disaster and Steve can only assume that Sam is being overly hard on himself, but he is glad he said something when he did.
They then find themselves seated at the kitchen table, steaming plates of home-cooked comfort food laid out in front of them. Just from the smell, Steve can tell this is going to be amazing, though it's hard not to feel like he's on the spot with Sam waiting for his verdict. He makes sure to grab a generous forkful with chicken, veggies, and rice so he can enjoy it all in one bite.
And then, after chewing it all thoroughly and swallowing it down: ] I'm not sure why you even have to ask. It's delicious, Sam, just like everything else you cook. [ Maybe Steve isn't the hardest person to please considering the sort of food he'd eaten growing up, but he is being entirely genuine with his words. The fact that he immediately goes in for another bite is probably another indicator of how he likes it. ]
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He trusts her. It's as simple as that. Just like he trusts Sam to be there for him in this excruciating waiting period, even if that means that they're making a meal together (well, Steve's mainly just supervising) and talking about poker and dancing and whatever else might come to mind.
There's still this sense of guilt, this imperative that he should be doing more, but Steve manages to bury it down and focus on Sam, on the here and now. And of course, Steve also wants to make sure that Sam stays steady through all of this too. He'll put on a strong face just like the rest of them, but living like this isn't easy (their current safehouse aside) and Steve feels responsible for making sure that every member of their little band of fugitives is okay, in the end.
So Sam learned how to dance from the women of his family. He should have guessed, as it seems like that's where so much of Sam Wilson came about, built up brick by brick by this long legacy. Steve's own family had just been his mother and Bucky, pretty much, and he wonders what it would have been like to have a huge family like Sam, to always be surrounded by that sort of love and support. It really does explain how Sam is the way that he is — rock solid, an anchor, and so full of consideration and love for others.
If anyone was going to teach him to dance, why not Sam Wilson?
Of course, then it becomes clear that Sam had forgotten the food and so Steve isn't given any opportunity to answer that question as he rushes over after him, doing his best to provide any help that he can in salvaging the meal. He gets the plates ready, at least, and scrubs out the dishes as soon as Sam's done with them just to make sure that no lasting damage is done to any of the pans. Nothing has burned, there's no actual disaster and Steve can only assume that Sam is being overly hard on himself, but he is glad he said something when he did.
They then find themselves seated at the kitchen table, steaming plates of home-cooked comfort food laid out in front of them. Just from the smell, Steve can tell this is going to be amazing, though it's hard not to feel like he's on the spot with Sam waiting for his verdict. He makes sure to grab a generous forkful with chicken, veggies, and rice so he can enjoy it all in one bite.
And then, after chewing it all thoroughly and swallowing it down: ] I'm not sure why you even have to ask. It's delicious, Sam, just like everything else you cook. [ Maybe Steve isn't the hardest person to please considering the sort of food he'd eaten growing up, but he is being entirely genuine with his words. The fact that he immediately goes in for another bite is probably another indicator of how he likes it. ]