Sam glanced at his friend, a little surprised by the honesty of her question. She was always honest with him in her own way, even when she was selective about the information she shared out loud, but this… This bordered on vulnerability, something he wasn’t used to seeing from Samantha. Or, more accurately, something he wasn't used to her letting him see.
This whole thing was hitting her a lot harder than he thought.
Which made sense. Good or bad, change was hard for all of them. Welcoming new people into the fold sometimes worked out better on paper than it did in practice. They’d been lucky so far in the Avengers they’d welcomed to the compound – no major personality clashes, no one going off the rails. Some heroes had come and gone, sure, but through it all everyone got along pretty well (the two exes notwithstanding), all of which made Sam’s job easier than expected. Most days it felt like the Avengers led themselves, and he was waiting in the shadows for the moment they really needed him.
Right now they were in the best case scenario. It was only a matter of time before adding new variables into the mix tipped them in a less-than-ideal direction, but he seriously doubted the one Samantha was vouching for would be the one to throw them off. She knew that risk as well as he did. If she’d found anything about this new Clint Barton wanting, they wouldn’t be having this conversation about him at all. So there was a good chance – a great one, even – that he would fit in well with the team, despite his trademark messes.
That would’ve been a mark in the plus column for anyone, but for Samantha it came with an asterisk. Trusting someone new, the way that Natasha trusted Clint – that was a bigger risk than anything. And a huge change.
Sam didn’t answer her question immediately. Instead, he took a moment to think as he went through the final steps of his cooking. Turning the burner for the ravioli off, draining the water, letting them sit in a colander for a moment while the pan with the butter got good and hot. When he turned back in Samantha’s direction, holding the colander, he paused halfway between the sink and the stove to give her an even but somewhat gentler look.
“I think a slow orientation is better than a sudden one, for all of us. Better to get the offers in now than later, when it might be too late.” A Cap answer through and through, always thinking ahead and preparing for the worst so they could handle it together, as a team. Still, his shoulders raised in a half-shrug, and he dumped the ravioli in the hot pan. They started sizzling immediately, and, his focus diverted, he began sprinkling the sage over the dish as he stirred to keep it from burning. “But if you want to wait, we can wait. No rush.”