Eva sat shotgun with her feet (ensconced in uncomfortable fancy shoes) up on the dash of the car, drumming her heels against it absent-mindedly.
"You nervous?" Sam asked, glancing across at her from the driver's seat.
"I don't like being in cars," she said, "they make me feel… trapped. I don't trust 'em."
"And yet you've crashed your bike and shredded up one side of your body," he pointed out, having seen the ugly scar stretching across her left hip and thigh, half-covered by tattoos.
"That was simultaneously the most awesome and terrifying moment of my entire life," she told him, eager for a distraction. "Did I ever tell you what actually happened?"
"Nope."
"It was back in Austin, right, and I'm driving past this junction and a freaking ginormous sixteen-wheeler lorry pulls out of nowhere, and I can either pancake myself into the side or do the thing that always happens in action movies where they skid underneath."
"So you action movie'd?"
"Obviously." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Dude, there was so much blood."
"You are so weird," Sam laughed. "And when I asked, I meant are you nervous about this."
"What? No," she said, a little too earnestly. "Why should I? They're only your parents."
"I heard you on the phone to V last night," he replied. "I was in the room next door but I could still hear you screaming."
"Okay," she admitted, "maybe I am slightly nervous. Slightly." She swallowed. "Oh, God."
"Is now a good time to mention my old man's a priest?" asked Sam. "Maybe less of the 'oh, God'."
"How about oh shit?"
"That'll work," he conceded.
"What if they don't like me? They probably won't like me. Look at me, Sam. I'm not the sort of girl people want their kids to date." She'd done her best, though, with a nice skirt and pumps instead of boots. They weren't even muddy.
"They'll love you," said Sam, pulling over. "We'll walk into Harlem, it'll be easier. C'mon." He offered her his arm as she climbed out of the car.
"Very courteous, Avenger Wilson," she teased him.
"My pleasure, Miss Kresk."
Mr and Mrs Wilson lived in a small terrace across the road from a church in the very centre of Harlem; a couple of kids were on bikes outside the latter, who waved at Sam as they walked past.
"I'm kinda their hero," he said, "y'know, super badass black superhero who grew up in the same neighbourhood as them and all. I'm an inspiration, apparently."
"Sure you are, baby."
He elbowed her as he rang the doorbell of the shiny-clean housefront, and a small, elegantly-dressed woman opened it for them.
"Sam!" she exclaimed, pulling her son into a hug. "You put on weight."
"All muscle, mama."
"You must be Eva," said Mrs Wilson, turning to Sam's guest just before she could run away.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, you'd best come in. Your father's in the dining room," she said, ushering them into the hallway and disappearing into the kitchen.
"This is good," Sam whispered to her, "she didn't let my last girlfriend in at all. Eva?"
"Hm?"
"Breathe."
She exhaled. "Sliding beneath a lorry at fifty miles an hour was way less scary than this."
"Samuel?" a voice called from another doorway. "I hope you're not keeping our guest standing."
"No, dad." Sam pulled her into the living room, where a man in a vicar's collar was sat.
"I would stand up," he smiled, extending his hand to Eva, "but a bullet to the spine kinda took my running career away from me." With his free hand, he waved to the wheelchair he was sat in.
"I… how long ago did that happen?" she asked. "I, um, I mean- nice to meet you, father."
He chuckled. "You too, Eva, and for the record it was over a decade ago. Just thought I'd get the elephant outta the room first."
"Dad," said Sam, "when's Abbie getting in?"
"She's due about now, actually. Kids are coming, too."
"So she'll be late, then," said Sam.
"Probably. Sit down, the pair of you."
Eva sat down on the sofa with Sam, who knocked his shoulder against hers reassuringly. "How's the flock, dad?"
"None too bad," Mr Wilson said, turning his chair a little to face them. "The-" he paused as the doorbell rang. "That'll be your sister. Get the door, will you Samuel?"
"Yeah, yeah." He left the two of them alone, and Eva- somewhat ironically- prayed he wouldn't ask if she went to church.
"How'd my wife react to you?" he asked, eyes sparkling.
"She- she didn't," said Eva, "but Sam said that's above average."
"Oh, it is. Can I get you a drink?"
"No, thank you."
He poured her a glass of water anyway. "So you just graduated?"
"Agriculture and forestry," she nodded.
"Ah, I'll have to get you to have a look at the parish garden sometime. We wanna start a vegetable patch, but nothing seems to want to… stay alive."
"I can fix that," she said confidently. People she might not be good at, but anything that grew out of soil she could handle.
"You're too kind. So what do you think of Samuel's new… job?"
"I guess I'm okay with it," she shrugged. "I know a lot of people stress out when their significant other has a career that puts 'em in harm's way, but I knew him as Falcon before I knew him as Sam. And he does a lot of good, too."
Mr Wilson nodded. "Adie doesn't approve," he told her, nodding towards the kitchen door. "But she didn't when he joined the army, either."
"It's understandable," she said. "If my son was as much of a reckless asshole as-" her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my God- I mean, oh, gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
Sam's dad was laughing. "Sweetheart, I hear a lot worse than that from my congregation, don't worry- and here come the grandkids," he added, as two little girls ran into the room, followed by a strained-looking woman in a suit who could only have been their mother. Sam followed his sister into the room and winked at Eva as the two kids clambered up onto her, investigating the stranger.
"What're these?" the older one asked, running her fingers along the circuit patterns on her arm.
"Tattoos," Eva said, "they're like drawings you put on your body that stay on forever."
"They're pretty."
"She's pretty," Sam added, his arm around Abbie's shoulders, and Eva glared at him.
"She is," the girl agreed, and she blushed. She knew deep in her bones she was average at best, but that was the thing about boyfriends- they were biased. And besides, little girls thought everyone was a princess at some point.
"Dinner's almost ready," declared Mrs W, sticking her head round the door. "Sam, lay the table."
"But it's Abbie's turn," he argued.
"She got the kids to look after."
"I got Eva!"
"I'll help," said Eva hurriedly, standing up. Sam took her hand and led her through to the tiny dining room, then handed her a fistful of cutlery.
"Well?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly.
"I had no idea you had a sister," she replied, "or nieces."
He shrugged. "Same as Barton, I keep 'em off official records. Only people who know are in the neighbourhood- and you, now."
"I'm honoured," she smiled. "Your dad's lovely. I, um- he offered me a drink and I know I ended up with water, but I don't…" want to get drunk and have a breakdown in front of these people I am trying so hard to impress, she finished silently.
"He knows," said Sam, "my mom doesn't, but dad don't care about stuff like that." He turned a glass over in his hands as he recalled something. "You know I'm bi?"
"I had kinda figured it out from the way you look at Denzel Washington, yeah."
He laughed. "For three years, I was terrified of coming out to them. 'Cuz of all that homophobic crap that's supposed to be Christian, y'know? And then one Thanksgiving, my old man, he takes me to one side and it turns out Abbie told him. And he said he couldn't care less who I dated, so long as they never throw the first punch. And then he went and told mom for me, and talked her round too."
"That's a good life ethic, that," she said.
He nodded. "He got shot trying to break up a gang fight. Two days later, heads of both gangs turn up at the hospital to apologize. I wanted to smash their faces against a brick wall, but he forgave 'em like it was the easiest thing in the world."
"Your dad's a superhero," Eva realized.
"Pretty much."
A/N my headcanon for Sam's family is inspired in no small part by the oneshot "No One Leaves Home Unless Home Is The Mouth Of A Shark" by GwenTheTribble, which is quite possibly one of the best pieces of short writing ever created and has made me cry on several of the occasions I read it, so you should absolutely go and check that out. Also, I always thought of Sam as bisexual since Falcon's gay in the comics, but he comes across as very into women in the films, so why not both? Also also, happy Hanukkah to my Jewish followers!