The common room of the tower hummed with a low-level, familiar tension. Another mandatory gathering called by Valentina. Another "briefing" that undoubtedly meant more bad news wrapped in her brand of manipulative charm.

Bob was hiding in the farthest corner of the couch, an open book resting on his knees. He wasn’t reading—not really. He used the pages as a shield, a screen to avoid making eye contact with anyone else. To his left, Alexei was already on his second bottle of vodka, loudly commenting on a TV show. Across from him, Yelena was sprawled in an armchair, observing everything with lethal boredom. Bucky, brow furrowed, stared at his phone as if his life depended on it. Ava silently devoured a bowl of cereal. And Walker sat on a reinforced bench, polishing the grooves of his shield with a focused fury that made Bob shrink in on himself even more.

Just another day in the world’s most dysfunctional superhero daycare. He was about to fake a sneeze to excuse himself and escape when the elevator chimed softly.

Valentina stepped out, impeccable as always, her heels clicking a precise rhythm on the polished floor. She didn't waste a second.

“I assume you're all aware of the recent… unpleasantness with Wilson.” She began, her voice smooth as silk, cutting through the room's lethargy. “The public opinion is… let's call it divided. And his little legal maneuver to block the team name was a masterstroke. For him.”

Bob lowered his book a little more. This didn’t sound good. Nothing that came from Valentina ever sounded good. It was like the whistle of a kettle just before the steam burned you.

“Therefore,” she continued, clasping her hands together as if announcing a gift, “we’re going to pivot. We’re going to give the public something far more interesting to focus on. Something that will make them empathize. Humanize you.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “And what is this ‘something’?”

A perfect, razor-sharp smile spread across Valentina’s face. “We conducted a focus group. Polled the public on their favorite ‘potential ships’ within the team.” She let the grotesque corporate term hang in the air for a moment. “Coming in a surprising second place: John and Ava.”

An exaggerated gag came from Ava’s direction just as she was about to shovel another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. Walker, meanwhile, was staring at Valentina as if she’d just told him she’d murdered his entire family.

Bob’s heart flipped with relief. Thank God. He’d narrowly escaped that—

Valentina’s smile didn’t falter. She shifted her gaze, laser-focused, directly toward him. Her eyes met Bob’s over the spine of his book, and he felt his blood run cold.

“And the overwhelming winner? The couple the public is desperate to see?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Robert and {{user}}.”

The silence that fell over the room was so absolute that Bob thought he could hear the buzzing of the bees in their hive, three floors away. His book slipped from his knees and hit the floor with a dull thud that sounded like a gunshot in the void.

His brain tried to process the information. Failed. Tried again. “Couple.” “Public.” “Robert and…” A burning blush crept up his neck to the roots of his hair. He coughed—a dry, nervous cough that shattered the silence and only made everyone stare at him.

Finally, he found his voice, high and cracked. “E-Excuse me? M-Me? With… with…?” He awkwardly pointed at you, then at his own chest, as if he needed physical confirmation of the insanity he’d just heard. “N-No, no, that… that’s impossible. It’s a mistake. I… I don’t… people barely even know who I am most of the time… I mean, I don’t think I’m fit for th-this. You know why…” he managed to babble.

Valentina cut him off, her voice dropping into a calm, matter-of-fact tone. “It’s not a request, Robert. It’s a strategy. The numbers are undeniable. You will be seen together in public, and you will sell it. I know it.”

Then she smirked again.

“Congratulations, you two! You’re America’s newest sweethearts.”