"Yeah, since I just finished painting them not too long ago." Sam's fingers froze just brushing the hilt of the knife and while he could have called Rumlow's threat he really doubted he was the sort of guy to bluff. Both hands rose slowly and empty handed while irritation almost wafted up from him. He had to to try something and while he would have been surprised if it actually work it still didn't mean it wasn't some frustration when it didn't. Or that was just spill over from the whole situation - the crawling, unsettled feeling of hyper-vigilance come far too late.

They hit the bottom floor and Sam trundled obedient but glowering to the couch, not sitting down just then. His jaw worked back and forth while he stared at Rumlow. He wouldn't go on and feed information, tell him that those hints were exactly what Steve and Natasha were out chasing- but he also wouldn't be too shocked if that was worked out.

The guy was an asshole but no, he wasn't blind nor was he dumb.

"Not going to lie, a lot of people have had a lot of time to make their move but you're the first. Feels personal. Or I’m just climbing the ranks."

But even as he stood there and glowered, refusing to sit though he remembered damn well that Rumlow told him to, the smell of his abandoned dinner hit his nose and his stomach growled.