A/N: I was going to post something entirely different, two chapters in a row. No, really. What will (probably) be next post was supposed to be part of chapter ten, but it surprised me and didn't want to stop at four pages...

Thank you to Qweb for the inspiration that became this update.


Still eight weeks, three days post the Battle of Liepzig/Halle Airport...


Sam and Clint were waiting at the kitchen table when Steve ventured into the kitchen again after finally getting Bucky to settle down enough to sleep for the night. It hadn't been easy and it probably showed on his face. "Clint, shouldn't you be-"

"Laura said you needed company, to decompress," Clint told him humorlessly. "Who am I to argue with my wife? Plus... you were very chipper for you. And ate only one omelet, when I know you're actually supposed to eat more than that."

Steve frowned at him. "I expected Bucky to notice, but you...?"

"Make another," Sam told him with a roll of his eyes. "With everything, packed with calories. Day like today?"

Steve nodded. "I was just going to do that, actually. You two want something?"

"No," Clint demurred. "Sam?"

"Go on, Steve."

They waited while Steve made another omelet with all the fixings for himself, packed with calories and protein like Sam had instructed, then joined them at the table. "So..."

"He seemed really confused," Sam said slowly, as Steve began to work his way through the omelet. "And didn't pick up on certain things."

Steve paused, swallowed, then frowned at him. "You mean about Scott? Sam, he's fresh out of two months in cryosleep, and you picked the dumbest explanation for Scott not being here instead of the real one." He took another bite of his omelet, savored the taste for a moment. "And it was somewhat mean."

"We'll tell him if he thinks to ask again, then."

Clint frowned. "Wait. That was cryofreeze withdrawal? He seemed fine, other than the not picking up on things."

"Yes," Steve told him. "It was. And other than his memory being somewhat spotty... and the lack of reaction to certain things like the State Department detail, he's himself." Steve tilted his head to listen, then took another bite of the omelet.

"Oh. I thought he'd be more like you, right out of the ice."

Steve shook his head. "Hope not. We don't need an internationally wanted man with one arm busting out of buildings and running wildly down the street, because he thinks everybody he sees is HYDRA."

"You weren't that bad."

"I threw two agents through a fake wall and ended up in Times Square."

"Fair enough." Clint watched as Steve glanced down the hall again. "What are you listening for?"

"Nightmares."

"Right." Clint stood up and marched away from the table, intent in his posture. He came back a few minutes later with the parent end of a baby monitor and set it on the table as he sat back down. "There. Other end is in his room. Now stop abusing your enhanced hearing and eat."

"You're not my father, Clint."

"In this situation, it feels like it. Barnes seems to be a deep sleeper just now."

Sam sighed. "That can turn on a dime."

"I know that. But if and until then..."

Steve glanced at the baby monitor, shook his head, and continued to eat. "Good idea."

"It's too bad we don't have Rebecca's photo albums here," Sam mused. "Bad enough we have to walk on egg shells in relation to his memory, but at least if we had those, it'd be easier."

"Touch and go, Sam," Steve said as he finished the omelet and sat back. "And this could be worse. And..." He frowned. "Photo albums? I didn't think of that!"

Clint chuckled. "You've been working with the medical team for six weeks, brainstorming with them on how best to undo what was done. So has Sam. That much focus? I'm not surprised that you didn't think of it, Steve."

"Clint-"

"Steve, just... relax tonight, all right? Give yourself that freedom."

Steve nodded slowly, taking the rebuke for what it was. "Thanks."

Momentarily, Laura joined them. "Well?"

"Making Steve eat more, listening for nightmares... pep talk. The usual," Clint told her with a smile. "Everyone down?"

"Wanda is reading to them. Well... to Cooper. Lila and Nathaniel are already asleep." She reached over, swatted Sam on the arm, which caused him to jump in surprise. "False ID? Really?"

Sam shrugged. "At least we know how out of it Barnes was?"

Laura rolled her eyes at him as she sat down next to her husband. "I could have told you that, just watching him eat with one arm."

"And I threw Jane Wyman at him just after he woke up, Sam," Steve told him humorously. "Figured out really quick that what I thought while standing in that cold storage room in the base in Siberia was correct... it would have been really easy to just drag him straight from cryo to the conditioning chair, because it was right there. He was pliable, confused, and unsteady on his feet, even hours after been taken out. Also discovered that he's starting to remember pop culture from the forties. A little, anyway."

Clint frowned in thought. "Jane Wyman?"

"Actress. Had been married to Ronald Reagan when we left for the war." Steve looked at each of them and wondered why they were all looking at him funny. "What?"

"Have you seen Back To The Future yet, Steve" Laura wondered.

"No. Why?"

"Then I'll be right back." So saying, she also took the baby monitor with her.

Steve watched her go, then looked at Sam. "I don't understand."

Clint chuckled again. "If she has anything to say about it, you will. And Sam? When do you think Barnes will realize you pulled one over on him?"

Sam thought about it. "About Tic-Tac? No idea. Depends on how much he knows about... oh, wait. I'm looking at this wrong. The more he learns about the current legal system, the more likely he might ask?"

"Something like that. Plus, it's more that Hank Pym wanted his lab monkey back and has the resources to hide him... and did Ross even ID him?" Clint frowned. "I don't remember them fingerprinting us at any stage of the process, but I was more concerned about Wanda than I was about myself."

"They didn't. Photo recognition ID, though. Not unheard of."

"Good point."

Laura returned with a DVD case and T'Challa trailing after her with the baby monitor in hand, amusement written clearly on his face. "Movie night!"

Steve frowned at the monitor in T'Challa's hand. "Why'd she give it to you?"

"Because you need to sleep eventually, Captain. And this is a good movie," T'Challa said with a smile. "Though I would be more likely to suggest Monty Python's Flying Circus." At Steve's frown growing deeper, he shrugged. "Went to Oxford, got exposed to British television. Next movie night, we'll show you and Barnes that."

"Monty what?"

Sam laughed. "Steve? One thing at a time."

"But... seriously? British television? How's that different from American television?"

Laura smiled and led him to the common room not far from the kitchen and directed him to a couch. "You let us worry about that, okay? For now... one wacky time travel adventure, coming up!"

"I lived a time travel adventure, Laura. I didn't like it!"

"Not like this, you didn't. And this one is fun."

He found out that she was right.