It had been a long day, as usual. Small crises, making up to Felicia Hardy, paperwork and finishing arrangements for his newest recruit's first mission. All Nick wanted was to relax and have a glass of something and maybe turn in early and- was that steak? As he stepped into his apartment door he paused, face upturned, eyes darting. He definitely smelled steak. He couldn't remember the last time anything was actually cooked in his kitchen. Fury himself wasn't half bad at it, but he rarely had time. Tossing his jacket in to the hall closet he made his way cautiously towards the smell of food. "Jessica?" he called out, feeling slightly foolish. Of course it had to be Jessica. He doubted a burglar or terrorist or arch-nemesis was going to break into his apartment to make him dinner.