#ssen

Your eyes widened. You recognized that voice. When you looked up, you were greeted with Sam standing at the entrance of the kitchen, his own bag slung over his shoulder.

“Uncle Sam is home!” the boys cheered, running back to Sam and smothering him with hugs. They easily reached past his waist by now; they couldn’t stay little forever.

He looked as great as you remembered, his kind smile and sparkling eyes making you feel butterflies in your stomach even after all these years. No amount of high school sleepovers with Sarah, weekend dinners, or summer drives could’ve changed that. The fact that his shirt fit him perfectly definitely didn’t help, either.

“Welcome home, Sam,” you greeted, unable to keep a smile off your face. Fidgeting with your hands, you explained, “I’m doing some baking to test recipes and also make dessert for Sarah’s box lunches. If I knew you were coming home, I’d have gone to pick you up.”

The last couple times he’d visited, you were busy at work. And as much as you wanted to stop by, you knew Sarah missed her brother. It would’ve been selfish for you to show up during their short reunion.

What you didn’t know was that Sam went through his visit waiting for your car to pull up on the driveway, or park by the dock. Sarah had called him a lovesick puppy.

“Don’t ‘Welcome home, Sam’ me, come here.” He waved you over, lifting his arm so you could slip into his embrace.

Laughing softly, you hugged him tightly around the waist and rested your head against his shoulder. You tried not to think too hard about how you fit perfectly against him, the warmth and strength of him like the missing piece of the puzzle that was your life. “We missed you a lot.”

“I missed you, too,” Sam replied softly, his arm tightening around you just a little. The soft rumble of his voice made your heart flutter. “I really need to come back more often. Next thing I know, the boys will be as tall as me and you’ll be married to the luckiest bastard in the world.”

“Not that lucky,” you reasoned, pulling him along to the tray of cookies. “I’ve been doing lots of recipe testing, and my apartment is already full of cookies and cakes. It would drive anyone crazy. I don’t think even the biggest dessert person would be able to stand it.”

His eyes lit up at the sight of the cookies. “I didn’t know you knew how to make snickerdoodles. Can I have one?”

“Go for it,” you said, touching the edge of the tray to make sure it wasn’t hot anymore. “You can be my taste tester. The ones in stores are always too sweet, so I figured I would make my own.”

“I’ve been telling you: your baking skills are unmatched,” he said. A moan left his lips as he bit into the cinnamon-sugar cookie, causing your face to heat up. “Between your baking and Sarah’s cooking, I’m surprised neither of you have opened a bakery or restaurant. The line would go down the street.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly in the best position to open a bakery these past few years,” you noted, leaning against the counter next to him. Your day job wasn’t fulfilling, but it was what you needed to stay afloat. Baking, on the other hand...it was a dream. If you could spend your days baking instead of sitting in an office, you would. But you dreamed of a lot of things. You didn’t quite realize how close you were until you looked up and found yourself face to face with him. His gentle smile and soft eyes made you look away quickly, not wanting him to think you were staring. Although you totally were. “Anyways, what brings you back here?”

The door opened again, and in walked Sarah and Bucky Barnes, the two chatting away with bright smiles on their faces. You hadn’t seen Sarah quite that energetic in a long time; being a single mom and keeping the family business afloat definitely wasn’t easy. Even with your help in taking care of the boys after the Snap, you knew Sarah had a lot to shoulder.

“Who’s this, Sam? Your new partner?” you asked, walking up to introduce yourself. Meanwhile, Sarah busied herself with getting AJ and Cass to calm down and start on their homework.

“More like coworkers,” Bucky said, shaking your hand. “We figured that since there’s not much going on right now, we might as well lay low. This is a very nice house, by the way.”

Smiling, you replied, “It is. Well, this is Sarah’s house, so I guess you should be telling her that. I’m just helping out however I can.”

“I know, she told me about you on the way here,” he said, his voice soft like velvet. “All good things, I promise. Though it didn’t take me long to realize how great you are.”

Well, that caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but smile shyly and wave him off. “Oh. That’s very nice of you-”

“Hey Buck, why don’t you get settled in? We’ve still got some work to do on the boat.” Sam interjected, coming up behind you. Resting his hands on your arms protectively, he continued, “You can set your bag down in the living room, and we can figure something out for the night.”

---

A couple days later, everyone was sitting around the dinner table, chatting over plates of peach cobbler. The chunks of golden fruit glistened with sugar and cinnamon, half-buried in buttery crumble and melting vanilla ice cream. You’d made it after work, driving from your apartment to make it with the Wilsons and Bucky. Sure, you could’ve made it at home and brought it over, but there was something special about a freshly-baked cobbler that was still bubbling from the oven.

“-And then Sam came over and took over peeling and cutting the peaches,” you began. “So-”

“And so, everyone made it through the prep with all their fingers intact,” Sam finished, laughing at your pout. Mimicking the way you held the paring knife, he explained, “The way she was holding the knife was terrifying! My blood pressure shot up just by watching her.”

He’d gently pried the knife out of your hands, insisting that he knew what he was doing. You’d rolled your eyes but obliged so you could focus on making the crumble. No matter how long you knew each other or how many times you proved yourself, he always had to butt in. It must’ve been an older brother thing, much to your dismay. As great of a brother you knew he was, you didn’t want to be his little sister. You wanted something more than that.

“Oh no, you sit back down,” Sam started, making you pause your cleanup. He went around and stacked up the empty plates, shaking his head fondly. You tried not to look too lovestruck as his arm brushed against yours, the touch gentle and warm. “Bucky and I will take care of the dishes. You girls just relax, ok?”

You watched them go, your gaze lingering on Sam’s broad shoulders. That was one thing that made you fall in love with him; whenever he was around, you felt safe and cared for. His hugs were a luxury, and his kindness a rarity in today’s society. Maybe he thought you would get married, but you wondered why he hadn’t found the one. He’d looked so handsome at Sarah’s wedding, you could just picture him standing at the altar someday.

“I saw that look.”

You blinked. “Look? What look?”

Sarah smirked and rested her head on her hand. “You can’t fool me. I saw you making those googly eyes at my brother.” When you sank into your seat in embarrassment, she laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Actually...I’m excited to see where this goes.”

“Nothing’s going anywhere,” you said, rolling your eyes. It didn’t matter that you had feelings for Sam. After all, you were his sister’s best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, it could affect their relationship. You couldn’t do that to them, not after everything they’d been through.

It was hard enough to see him knowing that you were such a big part of Sarah’s life. Telling him would put that all at risk. What would Sarah tell the kids if you couldn’t ever come back?

“There’s always a chance,” she reasoned, keeping her voice low to make sure no one else could hear. “Besides, something tells me he wouldn’t say no. And I’m sure the kids would love to have you be their official aunt.”

You smiled, trying not to give into the glimmer of hope. “I guess we’ll just have to see what happens, then.”

Meanwhile, Sam and Bucky were huddled around the sink and covered in droplets of soapy water.

“You are an actual child,” Sam chuckled, flinching as Bucky flicked some suds at him.

“Not as childish as you for not telling her that you’re in love with her,” Bucky jabbed, rinsing a plate under the water before handing it to Sam for drying. “How long have you been at it, birdy?”

Sam sighed and shook his head amusedly. “You really want to go there?”

“I’m just saying, it’s kind of hypocritical that you can flirt with your sister’s best friend but I can’t flirt with Sarah,” Bucky said, giving him a knowing look.

“You do realize flirting with your coworker’s sister is worse, right?” Sam rebutted, putting the dried dishes away. “If you hurt her-”

“You’re changing the subject, Sam,” Bucky interrupted, letting the water rinse away the soap residue before shutting it off. Crossing his arms, he said, “You haven’t answered the question.”

Unable to look him in the eyes, Sam sighed and said quietly, “18 years.”

Bucky’s brows shot up. A mischievous grin appeared on his face, “Almost two decades. You’ve got it bad, huh?”

Bracing his arms on the counter, Sam smiled to himself. “We met shortly after I joined the military. We only got to know each other a little before I had to go again, but...she was something more to come home to, you know?”

“Wow, you talk like she’s your wife,” he teased, recalling the way Sam had held you. “Do you plan on ever telling her?”

“And risk making things awkward for my sister if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Sam shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Well, how do you know she doesn’t like you back? She looks at you a lot, always gets that cute little smile whenever you talk-”

“Wait, cute?”

Bucky held his hands up. “I’m just making an observation.” He smirked. “One that seems to get you a little jealous, am I right?”

“No-”

“You’re lying, I can tell by your body language” he cut off, smiling softly. Gesturing towards where you and Sarah were sitting, he said, “Let me just say this: if you don’t ever tell her, one day you’re going to feel much more jealous when you’re sitting in the audience of her wedding.”

---

“Hey Sam?”

The man jogged down the stairs. “You called?” He reeled back as you turned around with a forkful of funfetti cake, narrowly missing his face. “What’s this?”

You looked startled at how close he was, still holding the fork up. “Oh, I was just wondering if you’d taste this and tell me if it’s sweet enough.”

He chuckled softly and leaned in. “Of course, honey.”

Warmth spread through your body at the pet name. His lips closed around the fork just as Sarah walked in, drawing your attention away from the man in front of you.

At first, you were confused as to why she was grinning like a cheshire cat, but then you realized something: you were feeding Sam.

Your bodies were nearly pressed against each other, your free hand resting on his bicep as you fed him the cake. You became keenly aware of how close your faces were, and how at some point he’d rested his hands on your waist. Part of you wanted to savor this moment because it wasn’t likely to happen again. Another part of you wanted to run away and hide for doing something so ridiculous.

Sam turned his head and froze. Heat rushed up his face as his sister shot him a knowing look.

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