Who: Steve Rogers and Beth Greene What: A home cooked meal and some bonding Where: Steve's apartment. When: Night Rating: PG for possible talk of unpleasant home times? Will update if necessary Status: Closed, in progress
There was more than a little to be said about a home cooked meal. Steve had spent more time out on the road and in the field than he ever had being settled down, which meant time in rough terrain where even a campfire might signal an unwanted person's or thing's attention. MRE's in the military had replaced what his mother had made before she'd passed, and after it was field rations and food out of a can more often than not. No matter how fancy the gadgets and equipment the Avengers came up with in their world, and there were luxury quinjets, enormous space stations and subterranean bases there, nothing had ever produced the comfort of coming home to his apartment, Sharon, and a home grilled burger. Those times together had been incredibly rare with both of their work schedules, and during his dozen years in Zola's dimension he hadn't had any of those familiar food landmarks. Still, he'd never forgotten them, not so much for the way they tasted but the way that the left a person' feeling. Food was a necessary component for survival, but food memories satisfied a different kind of hunger.
The least he could do was offer to give a little of that comfort and memory to someone who had just come through the portal from what sounded like another hell on earth. There were so many of those stories here, but they never bled together for Steve. Each story came with a person, each story helped inform and build a person, and each one was worth hearing and investing in. It didn't take much for Steve to take a shine to a person, and Beth's insistence on being polite, her mention of prayer and - most of all - her optimism despite her past were all aspects Steve related to more than a little. She was right that beggars couldn't be choosers, and it was worth being grateful for what one could be.
He'd taken a quick trip to the grocery store and some tips online about chicken fried steak. The rest he knew how to make, and while he wasn't the best cook around, he'd managed on his own for years. Her choices were traditional comfort food ones, a bit different than his Irish New York upbringing had grown up with but hearty all the same. It was just about ready when he heard the door. Wiping his hands off on a kitchen towel he tossed it neatly on the counter and went to open the door. Smiling when he did so, he immediately stepped aside so she could enter the space. The apartment was neat, without a lot of fuss and extras cluttering the space. After a few months of being there it was lived in, but neither he nor Bucky were fond of expensive furniture or fancy decorations. "Hi. Nice to actually meet you in person." It was old fashioned of him, but he always preferred face to face interactions over electronics. "I hope you're hungry, because there's more than enough."