[He drizzles oil and a few spices into the wok, shortly followed by chunks of diced meat that he cut already or something, I just looked up a recipe okay. He doesn't say anything right off, but it's not hard to see through the forced blankness on his face.

He misses that. Longs for it. A real life, an important life, lived at the edge of the familiar, doing work that protects others and ensures their security - God, he misses it. It's such a strange dichotomy between not wanting anything to do with SHIELD and wanting nothing more than that sense of purpose in his life again. There aren't going to be alien invasions every day.

Steve shakes his head and dumps the vegetables in to the wok.] Would you do anything else?