Chapter 6: Fast-Paced Changes

                                    

                                          
I was absolutely giddy the next day. Every time someone walked by, I scanned their face, hoping to see Steve again. It was stupid and I told myself that, but my heart refused to listen to logic. Focus. I reminded myself that I only had two more days to finish the memory wipe machine designs. Wasting time to daydream was unwise.
                          
Each model I made seemed to have too many faults. Some were more functional than others but I wanted to reduce the percentage of malfunction as much as possible. I slaved over the project both days, trying to make a design I was satisfied with. 
                          
Time was running out. I sat at my desk late the second night and rested my head in my hands. Part of me wanted to go home and sleep. The other half encouraged me to continue even though my eyes were beginning to close on their own.
                          
"Want any of this coffee?" a familiar voice said as they entered the computer department.
                          
I snapped upright in my seat and pulled some folders over the papers on my desk. Rumlow hadn't specified, but I was pretty sure this project was for my eyes only. 
                          
Steve pulled up a chair from a nearby empty desk and sat across from me. "You look like you could use it," he slid a mug over to me.
                          
"Thanks," I blinked the sleep from my eyes, willing my eyelids to stay open. "What are you doing here so late?"
                          
"I came to ask you the same question."
                          
I took a sip of coffee and raised my eyebrows. "I'm working. What's your excuse?"
                          
He chuckled, looking up at the ceiling a moment. "Well, I had this girl on my mind all day," his eyes lowered to meet mine, "and I kept wondering about our next date."
                          
"Oh, you were?"
                          
"Yeah, I was," he leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "Is she free tomorrow night?" 
                          
"Hmm. I don't know, that's kind of last minute," I smirked. "She might have other plans."
                          
Steve leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, "That's a shame. Just between you and me, I had a great date in mind with a nice walk in the park and everything. I thought she'd like it."
                          
Aww. "Well," I drawled as if considering it a great sacrifice, "I guess she can pencil you in."
                          
This resulted in a large smile. "That's a relief. I was beginning to think she'd lost interest in me."
                          
"Not yet, Mr. Rogers. Not yet."
                          
We stared at each other a moment before I realized I still had a project to finish. I sighed, "I should get back to work."
                          
"Do you want company?"
                          
"That's alright," I dismissed the question with a wave of my hand. "Head home and get some rest. This coffee should be all I need."
                          
He seemed reluctant to leave but nodded and stood. As he returned the chair to its desk, he said, "I'll text you tomorrow."
                          
"Goodnight," I smiled. 
                          
After a moment of inwardly swooning, I threw myself back into the project. It was a longer night than I anticipated, but the design was finally ready and neatly organized in its assigned folder. "Agent Rumlow," I held out the portfolio to him the next day. 
                          
"Finished?" he seemed almost surprised. 
                          
As he flipped through the contents, I noticed a suitcase beside his feet. It looked like a regular briefcase, but something about the handles looked different. Almost like enhanced handcuffs...
                          
"Dismissed, Lakes," he said abruptly. 
                          
I quickly averted my gaze up from the suitcase to his face and nodded, turning to the door. Numerous questions entered my mind as I walked to my combat training. Why would they use that tech as disguised handles? And why does Rumlow have it with him? That case should be in the Weapons Department.