Morning Mail

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Sam slows his jog to a walk as he reaches his home. Walking over to his mail box and checking for mail. There is a singular letter addressed to him with no return address.

With a sigh, Sam Closes the mailbox and heads inside with the curious letter.

He tosses it on the he kitchen table and goes to the fridge. Sam pulls out the makings for pancakes and the orange juice. With the ingredients on the counter Sam takes a quick drink of the orange juice from the carton, the cool juice tasting fantastic after his run.

His eyes shift to the strange letter he received in the mail. Curiosity gets the better of him.

Sam returns the orange juice to the fridge and goes to the table.

Cautiously Sam opens the letter. Inside is a neatly folded page, the creases crisply flattened.

He opens the letter and reads the neatly handwritten words.

A grin quickly spreads across his face and he is barley containing laughter at the ridiculousness of this. He realises that he has no reason to hold back and just let's go, nearly doubling over with the force of his laughter.

Steve was off on a mission. The man hadn't taken well to the silence order on the mission, Steve had thought it was overkill for what the mission was.

Fury had ordered Steve not contact Sam. No calls or texting. No secret codes or bat signals. No games of telephone or getting someone on the team to pass on the message. No returning to the states to pop in to say hi. No voice chats or instant messages. No emails. No messages in a bottle. No telegrams or messenger pidgins. No postcards. No smoke signals or flag semaphore.

The list was extensive and impressive. Steve's face and dropped more and more as Fury's list had continued. Steve had agreed, looking miserable. Sam was miserable too, the mission set to take over month.

Apparently Fury had forgot about plain old letters and Steve was being just as stubborn about the rules as always.

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THE END

For the On Your Left (SamSteve) Bingo prompt "Handwritten Letter" [C2]

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