-1-

-cold comfort for change-

The world, Steve felt, had suddenly gotten both a lot bigger and a lot smaller. It wasn't unlike the feeling he'd had when he'd woken up seventy years older instead of dead, shaking off dreams of ice and stepping into a brand new world; but at least he had people with him this time. Natasha came and went, of course – Steve had briefly brought up asking her for more commitment, but a mention of it to Sam had made the other man chuckle wryly, and then tell him in no uncertain terms that that was the quickest way to make sure she never came back. And Steve supposed Sam himself made up for it by cooking him breakfast every morning in an apron that said 'Kiss the Cook, He Saved Your Ass'.

Still, there was an itch in him, a restlessness that couldn't be soothed even with his newfound, admittedly unconventional domestic life. Part of it was Bucky; his supposed settlement was really just an endless waiting and watching, hoping for a sign. He no longer had the protection of S.H.I.E.L.D., and he couldn't go around hanging up pictures of the man who'd, well… shot up half of D.C. So he waited. And waited. And even Natasha's occasional thoughts and clues that led nowhere and Sam's encouragements and comforting pep talks couldn't change that.

Until, of course, Loki appeared in his living room.

Steve blinked, blinked again. "…Could you move? I'm trying to watch."

Loki stared back at him. "Excuse me?"

Steve looked away, then back at Loki. He was still there. He halfheartedly threw the remote at him. It went right through him with a fizzle, clattering against the TV behind.

"Oh good, I was really hoping you weren't real," he sighed in exhaustion. "Because then I'd have to tell Tasha, and then she'd make a mess, and she never cleans up."

Loki frowned. "I was hoping for a slightly more impressed response. Or am I a regular part of your hallucinatory repertoire?"

"You want impressed? I can try knocking you out."

"Oh, do try, by all means. It'll be like watching a cat chase a laser pointer." Loki sneered in his singularly unpleasant fashion.

Steve rubbed his eyes and leant forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. "You're supposed to be dead, by the way."

"Am I?" He pressed his hand to his chest in mock surprise. "Well, it's news to me. Although I thought you said I wasn't real."

"No, no, you're real," Steve groaned. He really wasn't in the mood for this. "But I can't touch you therefore you can't touch me, I don't see your fancy staff and I don't see…well, anything else. And, like I said, everyone thinks you're dead. And I have other things to worry about."

Loki really did look surprised at this point. "That's…remarkably lackluster coming from you."

"I just had to fight my best friend," Steve snapped suddenly, rising from his seat. "I had to beat him to a pulp and let him do the same to me and he couldn't even remember my name. So I suggest you piss off before I ring up your brother and let him know you're still around."

Loki had actually taken an instinctive step backward. "You wouldn't do that," he muttered. "Not Mr. America."

"It's Captain. And leave now, and I won't say a damn word. I'm nice like that."

With one last scowl, the image of Loki shimmered and disappeared. Steve didn't move for a long time, clenching and unclenching his fists. He didn't move, in fact, until Sam came through the door with a brown paper bag of groceries and Natasha with another new haircut in tow. "Look what the cat dragged in!"

Steve glanced up at her, and then grinned. "Welcome back."

She actually blushed at that, although most people wouldn't have been able to tell. Even secret agents had their tells. "Honey, I'm home," she replied with a smirk. "Shall I water the garden?"

"Actually…"

"Wait, do we have a garden now?" She looked at Sam for confirmation, much to his amusement.

"Come home more often and you'd know these things! We got, uh… carrots growing back there, some nice flowers –"

"What kind?"

"The flowery kind. I don't know. Steve picked them."

"I want a pumpkin." She sat down on the couch and tugged at Steve's shirt. "Sit down, I want to catch up."

And so, for a while, Steve didn't think about Bucky, or Loki, or anything much at all.