All right, so the rest of the day's plans were already set, but right now came the harder part. Cooking breakfast. Because while Steve could cook, a little at least, he was far from a Master Chef. Heck, he probably wasn't even an apprentice chef. And two years of eating whatever they could find and being grateful for it had probably diminished his tastebuds some.
But okay. Eggs, bacon, toast, his dad's world famous pancakes, fruit cup, oj, industrial strength coffee that could double as rocket fuel... Check.
He gently nudged the bedroom door open.
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