"What's up?" Emma cooed, overly awake at the lab.
"I'm not coming in tomorrow morning."
"Why not?" Emma was immediately grumpy.
Birgit sighed, "I have some shit to take care of that just came up. I promise I'll explain it all later. Don't give me any grief, please."
Emma sat up at the seriousness in her friend's voice, "What is it? Do you want me to come over? Whose ass do I have to beat?" She softened when she heard Birgit giggle.
"Nobody's yet. But keep your baseball bat handy. I'll talk to you tomorrow night, okay?" Birgit gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles were white.
Emma was silent a moment. "Did shit just get real?"
Birgit released the counter. She sighed. "Yeah, dude. Shit just got real."
"Man, okay," Emma rubbed her forehead. "You give me a heads up whenever, okay? I'm staying home tomorrow then."
"Hey, day off."
"I'd rather you come in and tell me you're okay and just won a cruise or something."
Birgit laughed, "Boy, howdy, we should do that some day."
"Let's plan it after you tell me your 'real shit,' okay?"
"Okay, lady. Will do."
"Hang tough," Emma commanded.
"Stay loose." Birgit heard the other line click and the screen of her phone illuminated Emma's departure.
The second call loomed.
It loomed.
And loomed.
Finally Birgit could no longer put it off. It was getting late. She couldn't let him see her stroll into whatever fancy-ass conference room they had set up in Manhattan with no explanation. That would be a dick move. So Birgit resolved not to be a dick.
"Hello?" Steve's voice was sweet and sleepy. Birgit smiled and a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Hey, it's me, Birgit."
"Oh hey... Is something wrong?" His tone picked up.
"No, not really. We have to talk though. In person." Steve, sitting on the other end of the line in his bed, flexed his brow.
"Are you sure you're okay? I'll come to you." He got to his feet and moved toward the closet.
"I can come to you if you'd rather. I don't want to put you out." She rubbed her temple.
"Birgit, something's wrong. I'm coming."
"Okay. Everything's okay." With that they hung up.
Rogers ran a hand through his hair. A million scenarios sped through his head. What was it? Did she get a teaching job someplace far away? Did she not want to see him anymore? Did somebody die? Was there a secret?
Cap shook his head and pulled on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He put little thought into the process of dressing. All he knew was that he had to go, and quickly. He'd take his motorcycle and be there in minutes.
He thought of bringing a second helmet for her. He loved to feel her hug him as they rode together, hear her laugh if he took a corner a little too fast, and see her take the helmet off and shake her hair out.
Perhaps the news wasn't bad. Perhaps they'd take a cleansing ride after the night rolled into morning.