“Well in that case, I think we’ll make a pretty good team.”
Steve grabs a chair on their way over to the kitchen anyways — all he needs is one hand to lift it — so he can set it down in the kitchen. It’s in case Tony changes his mind, or in case he wants to use it like a one-step ladder to get himself a seat up on the countertop. Either way, Steve will hold out his hand again, if Tony wants something to grip when he goes up.
Once Tony’s stable and settled, Steve gets to work, fishing out a large pot and a saucepan from a cabinet. He fills the pot with cold water and sets it on the stove to boil, and then he goes to his freezer again. This time, he pulls out a plastic container — it’s the same kind of container that were in the box Tony had grabbed from his apartment when they had lunch in the hospital, but clearly washed and re-used.
“I made this after I got back three nights ago, when I couldn’t stop thinking …“ Steve looks up at Tony, smiling a little, like he’s just a little embarrassed of what he’s about to say. But it’s temporary, because he has other things to focus on to, like using his fingers to nudge the lid off the base. “…well, about you, and tonight.”
With his strength back, Steve has been more careful than usual lately, mostly because he doesn’t want the Computer to find out, and him forgetting to hold back usually meant things got crushed too easily. But the lid comes off before he accidentally destroys it, and Steve tilts the container so Tony can see what’s inside.
It’s homemade pasta. Hand rolled and cut, and then rolled back up and floured so the strips won’t stick to each other in the freezer.
“I still had some flour leftover from when I’d requested some awhile back, and while I can’t cook that many things, I can still make pasta. Honestly though, I’m glad I did it that night. I’ve barely been back here for the past three days.”
Even for GREEN, with his mix of real and fake food as a regular diet, real pasta isn’t something that’s distributed, and Steve is thankful that when he was younger, flour was cheap enough that making things from scratch was a regular occurrence, and he’d needed to help out as much as he could when his mother pulled extra shifts in order to pay the bills. So he learned to make a few staples here and there.
no subject
Steve grabs a chair on their way over to the kitchen anyways — all he needs is one hand to lift it — so he can set it down in the kitchen. It’s in case Tony changes his mind, or in case he wants to use it like a one-step ladder to get himself a seat up on the countertop. Either way, Steve will hold out his hand again, if Tony wants something to grip when he goes up.
Once Tony’s stable and settled, Steve gets to work, fishing out a large pot and a saucepan from a cabinet. He fills the pot with cold water and sets it on the stove to boil, and then he goes to his freezer again. This time, he pulls out a plastic container — it’s the same kind of container that were in the box Tony had grabbed from his apartment when they had lunch in the hospital, but clearly washed and re-used.
“I made this after I got back three nights ago, when I couldn’t stop thinking …“ Steve looks up at Tony, smiling a little, like he’s just a little embarrassed of what he’s about to say. But it’s temporary, because he has other things to focus on to, like using his fingers to nudge the lid off the base. “…well, about you, and tonight.”
With his strength back, Steve has been more careful than usual lately, mostly because he doesn’t want the Computer to find out, and him forgetting to hold back usually meant things got crushed too easily. But the lid comes off before he accidentally destroys it, and Steve tilts the container so Tony can see what’s inside.
It’s homemade pasta. Hand rolled and cut, and then rolled back up and floured so the strips won’t stick to each other in the freezer.
“I still had some flour leftover from when I’d requested some awhile back, and while I can’t cook that many things, I can still make pasta. Honestly though, I’m glad I did it that night. I’ve barely been back here for the past three days.”
Even for GREEN, with his mix of real and fake food as a regular diet, real pasta isn’t something that’s distributed, and Steve is thankful that when he was younger, flour was cheap enough that making things from scratch was a regular occurrence, and he’d needed to help out as much as he could when his mother pulled extra shifts in order to pay the bills. So he learned to make a few staples here and there.