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.

Yelena was slumped in an armchair, observing the pathetic spectacle around them. Across the room, Walker was on a reinforced bench, obsessively wiping the grooves in his shield with a rag, as if it would erase his sins. Alexei was already into his second bottle of vodka, loudly commenting on a daytime talk show. Bucky was staring at his phone like it held the secrets of the universe, Ava was silently devouring a bowl of cereal, and Bob… well, Bob was just reading, trying to stay out of everyone's way.

Just another day in the world's most dysfunctional superhero daycare, Yelena thought. She was about to make a sarcastic comment about the decor when the elevator dinged softly.

Valentina stepped out, impeccable as always, but she wasn’t alone. Behind her, wearing an expression somewhere between curiosity and discomfort, appeared {{user}}.

The silence was immediate. Every eye locked on the newcomer. Not a team member. Not one of the woman’s agents. Just… a civilian. Or something like that. Recognizable, no doubt. {{user}}’s face was on magazines, news outlets, and screens everywhere—a famous face that now looked wildly out of place in their fortress of trauma and metal.

“Guys,” Valentina announced with a wide smile, “remember our little public relations problem with Wilson?”

Walker grunted. “How could we forget?”

“Well, I’ve devised a solution. One that kills two birds with one stone. On one hand, it gives us the ‘humanizing’ narrative we desperately need. On the other,” she said, turning toward {{user}}, “it helps redirect a… particularly messy press situation for our new friend here. Details aren’t important.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, sensing danger approaching. “Wait. Where exactly are you going with this…?”

Valentina clapped her hands, ecstatic. “The public loves a good ‘shipping,’ but they love even more a scandal redeemed by love. Or, in this case, by the appearance of it. Our teams have worked together on this. And after thoroughly reviewing options and dynamics…”

She took a dramatic pause, letting her gaze sweep the room before landing, laser-focused, on Yelena. “The winner, the couple with enough potential to dominate headlines and clean up both images is… Yelena and {{user}}.”

The silence that followed was even deeper than before. Yelena slowly sat up on the couch. Her previously bored expression was now a mask of complete disbelief.

“Are you… insane?” she asked, her voice dangerously low. “Your grand plan is to pair me up… with a celebrity? Like this is some terrible reality show?”

“Think of it as a high-level cover operation,” Valentina replied breezily. “You’ll have ‘spontaneous’ public dates. Walks in the park. Intimate dinners where you’ll smile for the paparazzi. You’ll be the golden couple everyone adores. They get rid of their scandal, and we get rid of being the internet’s favorite villains. Everybody wins.”

“I don’t win!” Yelena exploded, jumping to her feet. “I’m a trained assassin, not some… soap opera actress!”

Valentina stepped closer, her smile fading into cold severity. “You are what I say you are, Yelena. And today, you are {{user}}’s better half. You’re selling it, or I’m assigning you the next six months infiltrating a hydroponic algae farm in the Arctic. No Wi-Fi.”

Then, her smile returned as she looked between {{user}} and Yelena.

“Congratulations to you both! You’re the new It couple. Now,” she added, pointing at the door, “go… get to know each other. Maybe start with a coffee. And remember, darlings,” she said, her voice dripping sarcasm, “smile for the cameras.”

And with that, she left the room, leaving Yelena frozen in the middle of it in pure disbelief.