"You sound like a pregnant woman," was all Natasha Romanoff had said since Steve Rogers had walked in and begun to name all of the things that he was hungry for.
That was one hour, twenty-seven minutes, and forty-one seconds ago. Natasha's eyes had not left her laptop, although they had taken on a certain twitch. It was not her fault that Agent Coulson had forgotten to get groceries. Nor was it her fault that Steve Rogers ate like he was making up for those seventy years all at once. It most certainly was not her fault that the only time Steve had tried to order take-out, he had asked Thor of all people for telephone help and ended up sobbing on the phone about how confusing modern technology was for forty minutes with some hundred-year-old woman in London, therefore losing his telephone privileges when Fury received the bill.
She couldn't even give Steve the number for Trojan Condoms and tell him it was a cake factory.
(It had worked on her niece…)
"You know what I miss right now? Cookies. Soft, chewy chocolate chip cookies, straight out of the oven, with a glass of cold milk to dip 'em in. And a sandwich, tuna fish sandwich, mixed with mayonnaise and chopped celery and with pickles on the side. Also, I'd like some potato chips, good American potato chips. Maybe salt and vinegar. Did you know they make real pretty colors when you put them on the stove? And speaking of stoves, macaroni and cheese. Oh, yeah. And a big old pot of regular pasta, too, with parmesan cheese and chunky tomato sauce like my mother used to make. My mother was an Italian, great cook. My father was British and didn't know food at all, but my mother raised me as a good Italian. Pasta, cheese, lots of tomatoes and garlic and spice. She'd make lasagna on Christmas." Steve fell silent for a blessed moment. "Natasha, you're the only woman here, can you make lasagna?"
"If you plan on ever having children, I suggest you do it in the next sixty seconds before it's an impossibility," she replied without looking up.
Steve tilted his head. "What?"
He paused for a response, and, receiving none, continued. "For desserts, I like it when you have a bowl with chocolate pudding on one side and vanilla on the other. Caramel's good too, but it doesn't mix well. Cupcakes are really cute! But actually, I'm craving something like a Peppermint Patty, something small and sweet-"
"THEN GO PUT CHOCOLATE SYRUP ON YOUR PENIS AND SUCK IT, IF YOU DON'T LOSE IT IN YOUR GIGANTIC MOUTH FIRST!" Natasha still hadn't looked at Steve Rogers.
Tony Stark stepped into the room, looking slightly nonplussed. "What's eating him?" he asked Natasha, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the Steve Rogers' sobbing figure as it retreated.
Natasha shrugged and went back to her typing.
yes I call this writing