Who: THE SAMS (Sam Kendall and Samantha Ross) What: Just a casual chat about recruitment between two BFF Avengers. Where: Avengers Compound, upstate New York When: Backdated to Friday evening, July 10th, 2020 Warnings: Probably none? (Unless you count a little bit of food porn...)
Sam wasn’t the type of superhero who defaulted to paranoia when things got quiet, but he had to admit, things had been pretty quiet lately. So quiet that, more often than not, he was the only one at the Avengers compound for days at a time. The others stopped by to check in or to train, but they all had lives and jobs that kept them from staying longer than an afternoon or so. Sometimes that made Sam feel like a half-remembered grandpa, always waiting for the grandkids to stop by and fill a quiet house with some conversation. Or that’s how Steve felt about it, anyway. He’d never admit it, but sometimes being the only one here did make the old guy feel a little lonely.
Sam, however, didn’t mind an empty nest. He was the rare soldier who came home and didn’t miss the hard cots or the constant noise of the barracks. Maybe that would’ve been different if he’d actually transitioned back into civilian life; instead, he traded one war for another, thanks to Cap. And, if he was being honest (which he always was), it was certainly a trade up. This war suited him in ways his country’s never-ending war in the Middle East never did, and if the only inconvenience for fighting it was living alone in a compound that could easily house hundreds of heroes? Well, that wasn’t much of an inconvenience at all. A little solitude wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Still, there was a slight problem. Sam had no idea how to cook for just one person.
You’d think after all this time living at the compound he would’ve figured it out by now, but no. If anything, all he’d learned was not to make something overly complex and absurdly bountiful more than once a week, because usually he was the one stuck eating the leftovers. Sure, other Avengers rolled through and raided the fridge, but even their prodigious stomachs barely made a dent. Yet Sam continued cooking for an army, if only because that was more satisfying than the alternative. Though it was a drag to eat the same thing every day, it was better than eating crappy PB&Js all the time, and besides, nothing ever went to waste.
After all, being the reincarnate of Captain America required a whole lot of calories. Who knew?
Tonight, Sam was trying his hand at homemade ravioli. He started early in the afternoon, mixing and kneading the pasta dough in the compound's well-stocked kitchen (god bless Tony Stark and his compulsive need to have the best of everything, right down to cheese graters). One of his mom’s favorite Patsy Cline records played in the background as he worked, filling the otherwise empty dining/living area with a voice so soothing that it made the place feel that much more like home.
While the dough sat for the required amount of time, he briefly checked in with JARVIS. The state of the world was largely unchanged and therefore awful, but nothing urgently required his or the Avengers’ attention. Feeling no small amount of relief that he didn't have to abandon his meal (it had happened only once before, but that was more than enough), he started on the spinach and ricotta filling. Simple, classic, hard to beat. If this recipe turned out, next time he’d get a little more creative. Butternut squash, maybe, or beets. Sam did love an unexpected beet.
Next came the tricky part: rolling out the dough until it was paper-thin, but still thick enough to hold the filling. Sleeves rolled up, apron on, and arms dusted with flour from fingers to elbows, Sam was more than up for the challenge. He worked diligently and precisely, pausing every once in a while to take a sip from his beer – a holdover from his pre-super soldier days, when he used to drink for the buzz and not for the taste. He took an especially long drink once he was finished rolling, partially to look at his perfectly thin sheet with a little bit of pride. Cap’s strength made quick work of the physical labor, but the finesse? All Sam.
After readying a pot of water (but not setting it to boil yet), Sam cut the sheet into squares. Then, just as he was starting to fill the pockets and pinch the edges closed, he heard a noise. Not over the music; whatever it had been, it was much too quiet for that. He paused mid-pinch and listened harder. Nothing. No sound at all.
Sam smiled to himself and resumed his work, then called out into the seemingly empty compound. “That you, Red?”