It was 2:30 in the morning and Steve was baking a chicken pot pie.

In all honesty it wasn't that odd for him to be up so late doing something. He couldn't sleep. Nightmares would always interrupt his sleep and leave him agitated and jumpy. Natasha had recommended he find a hobby. He had tried learning guitar; too loud, it woke the blond next door up. He tried going for runs but quickly realized people weren't all that happy when he forgot his keys in the middle of the night and could they please buzz him up, sorry. Knitting made him even more annoyed, he just couldn't get that darn needle to keep the yarn on it.

But today, today a friendly old lady down the hall had brought him some leftovers. She said she was worried for him living alone with no girlfriend to take care of him. Steve thought it was ridiculous because he was Captain America dammit and he could take care of himself and he didn't need any help and GOD THAT WAS SOME GOOD POT PIE. Steve finished the pie and was down the hall asking for the recipe in no time.

So here he was, in the middle of the night standing in his kitchen in boxers and an apron trying to figure out how to work the fancy oven Natasha had picked out for him.

"It can't be that hard." Steve whispered to himself. He already had it preheated, now how to open it? There was no handle anywhere, how was he supposed to open it? He pushed gently at the door and jumped out of the way when it sprang open.

"There we go!" Steve pushed the uncooked pot pie into the oven and closed it. Happy he had finally gotten the pie into the oven he moved over to the living room and sat down. He turned the television on. The show he opened up to was something about wedding dresses and he quickly relaxed. Before no time he had drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Steve jolted awake and was on his feet looking for the source of the noise. His pot pie! Steve rushed in to the kitchen and opened the oven, only to be blinded with smoke.

Captain America had just burnt his pot pie. A pot pie. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the man with a star spangled plan, had just burnt his pot pie.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

And that noise was still going. What was it? Steve looked around again, trying to find it and realized it was the fire detector. Well, dammit. He grabbed a chair and pulled it to the middle of the kitchen to stand on. He pressed the button in the middle.

It was 4:40 in the morning and Steve Rogers was standing outside his apartment building in boxers and an apron because he set off all the alarms in his building with his chicken pot pie.

Suddenly that little old lady didn't look all that friendly. At least he wasn't the only on half naked. The blond neighbor was in a robe and barefoot, there was a small family in various stages of undress sitting on the curb and there was that man in boxers and a t-shirt who was definitely staring at him. Not an angry stare. Just, staring.

"Hey." Steve waved a bit embarrassedly. With the man staring at him like that he was suddenly all too aware of his own lack of dress. The man walked closer and wow he's gorgeous.

"Hey man, Steve Rogers right?" The man stuck his hand out in greeting and Steve immediately notice how big his hands were. Unwelcomed thoughts ran through his head before he collected himself and looked up the man's face.

"Uh, yeah, Steve Rogers, uh yeah, that's me, that's- yeah." He was babbling like an idiot. Of course. First he nearly burns down the building and now he can't form a simple sentence.

"I'm Sam, Sam Wilson, nice to finally meet you. I moved in a few days ago."

"Yeah, I heard about that, I mean you, I heard about you moving in. Sorry." Steve winced as he finished his sentence, realizing he had said it all too quickly. Miraculously, Sam had managed to catch it.

"Hey, no problem man, everyone's a bit messed up about this. The firefighter was telling me someone was cooking. Who cooks in the middle of the night, right?" Sam was smirking at Steve, eyeing the apron he was wearing with humor.

Steve looked down and tried his hardest to get the ground to open up and swallow him. Sam was still smiling at him though so he looked up and grinned in what he hoped was a good I'm so sorry this happened grin.

"What were you cooking anyway? "

"Chicken pot pie."

"Well then, you probably shouldn't be cooking anytime soon, should ya?" Sam teased.

"Yeah, no its take-out and left overs for me now." He grimaced at the prospect of Chinese food for weeks. Tony had tried getting him into Chinese and Thai food after New York and he was still sick of it.

"Well, maybe not. I always make more food than I eat so maybe you can come over have some? I make a great lasagna." Was Sam flirting with him? He was really close and it was making it hard for Steve to think straight.

"Really? I mean that would be great, I'd lov- yeah, that would be awesome." Steve couldn't help but smile a bit and rub his neck. He heard people shouting and realized that the firefighters were telling them it was okay to go back inside again. Steve turned back to Sam and smiled.

"Yeah man, it's no big deal, you can come on over at seven? That's usually when I start cooking. Apartment 205, you can bring an apron." Oh yeah, Sam was definitely flirting. Sam started to walk back to the building, leaving Steve behind.

"It's a date!" Sam called over his shoulder at the stunned American hero. Steve started to smile.

It was 4:55 in the morning and Steve Rogers was standing outside his apartment building in boxers and an apron, and he had a date.