five

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She arrived in Midgard once more, holding a large roast as she walked to the Rogers' apartment. It wasn't a peace offering for abruptly leaving, but more of a gift for their kind hospitality.

She stood in front of their door and knocked with the tip of her heels, considering how she was occupied with the roast. She was stronger than Midgardians, but wouldn't dare risk dropping the roast. She hadn't prepared it, of course. An Asgardian chef did, but she would keep the roast safe since she knew how delicious  it tasted.

The door opened a smidge before opening all the way. Steve was at the door, eyes wide as he stared at the goddess.

"Ophelia?"

"Hello, Steven, I've brought a roast as a gift. May I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry."

He stepped back and allowed her to enter the apartment before closing and locking the door. Ophelia looked around the dim apartment.

"Is your mother here?" she asked.

"In the kitchen. Do you need help with that?"

He asked out of courtesy and because he was a gentlemen, but he wasn't sure if he could carry it all on his own if she handed it to him.

"Oh, no, I'm quite fine. I'm stronger than I look. Kitchen, you said?" she recalled.

He nodded and led her to the kitchen.

"Stevie, who was at the door?" Sarah questioned, looking over her shoulder from heating up beans from a can. "Ophelia, dear, you're back! Is something wrong?"

Ophelia shook her head and smiled widely. "Nothing, Mrs. Rogers. I only came with a gift for your kind hospitality, as well as Steven's wonderful company. It's a roast that my chef prepared."

"Your chef?" Steve questioned.

She dressed rich, but now it was clear to him. She must have been some sort of royalty or daughter of a politician. No one had a chef unless they had money to waste.

Ophelia nodded. "I'm afraid I can't cook. Absolute garbage. I hope this is to your liking?"

"Dear, it's gigantic!" Sarah gushed, rushing over to help her set it onto the table. "This must have cost a fortune!"

Ophelia shook her head. "You two deserve the absolute best. You could even share with your friend, Steven. James, was it?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, most people just call 'im Bucky."

"Stay for dinner," pleaded Sarah. "It's the least you could after delivering it. This roast could last us five days alone."

Ophelia glanced between Steve and Sarah. "If you'll have me."

Sarah looked at Steve. "We will. Won't we, Steve?"

He nodded, mouth dry at the Look his mother was giving him. "Y-Yeah, we will."

Dinner was lovely. They talked about their days and childhood memories, attempting to avoid any talk of war and casualties. When dinner was finished, Ophelia helped clean up before excusing herself to go home. Of course, she denied Steve's offer to walk her home. Steve and Sarah watched her walk away until she rounded a corner and could no longer be seen. The two returned to their apartment and locked the doors and windows.

"You like her," said Sarah.

"Ma," he whined.

She smiled. "She's a nice lady, Steve. Take her out."

"I - I have," he muttered.

"On a real date, Stevie," she begged. "She likes you too. I can see it."

"You say that 'cause I'm your son."

"I say that because of the way she looks at you."

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