Chapter 10

Sadly, the real world intruded the next morning. I knew that, since we had all gone out in public the night before, there would be photographic damage. So, ignoring the vague pounding in my head, I guzzled a large bottle of water, popped several aspirin, and got to work.

First, I texted Delia and had her initiate the program we had designed, then called every major member of the media, informing them that there would be a meeting at nine. It wasn't a press conference, so they didn't need to bring any cameras, but it would be more of an informal discussion. Still, after I showered, I pulled on my most "business" skirt and top, and those killer heels from Pepper again. Lastly, I twisted my hair up, putting it into a professional-looking bun. No waist-length curls for this shindig.

At five to nine, I greeted a fleet of reporters, ushering them into the biggest conference room in the Tower. I shook hands with everyone, exchanging more personal greetings with those I'd met before. Then, once everyone was settled, I began. "Hello, everyone. Thank you for all coming on such a short notice."

"How could we stay away?" one guy, who one I thought worked for the Daily Bugle, asked. "I mean, it's not everyday you get a personal summons to Avengers Tower."

"And you always give us good things to write about, Dr. Coulson," a brunette writing for People added.

"Well, I'm sure you all have heard about the Avengers' night out last night," I said, and everyone nodded their heads.

Daily Bugle guy piped in again. "Yeah, those pics are heading to press as we speak."

"That's why I called you all here today. You cannot print them."

My words stunned everyone. The proverbial pin dropping would have echoed in that room. Then, almost as one, every other person in the room exploded.

"You can't do that!"

"Haven't you heard of freedom of the press?"

"You can't possibly believe that."

"It's way too late, honey."

I let the furor die down, then I spoke again. "I'm sorry, you must have misunderstood me. You will not print them."

"And why is that, Dr. Coulson? Do the Avengers have something to hide?" one obnoxiously perky, very young reporter asked me. "Maybe something like this." As she said it, she placed a picture on the table of Tony and Pepper dancing very close, grinning at each other, as his hand was firmly on her butt. "Or maybe this." Another picture, this time of Thor kissing Jane's neck. "This, maybe?" A picture of Clint and Tasha making out in a booth. She kept going, showing photos of our girls' dinner, and the guys' game, and more clubbing. "But I think this one is my favorite." And she placed a picture of Steve tugging on my earlobe with his teeth, arms around my waist, while I had my head thrown back against his chest, a huge grin on my face.

"The Avengers have nothing to hide," I said calmly, staring the twelve-year-old down. "They simply had a fun night out, like normal people."

"But they aren't normal people," she pushed.

"No, they aren't. They're the people who saved your life two years ago, and every time since that someone has threatened our world," I retorted, clenching my fists so I didn't strangle her. "And they deserve to keep their private lives just that: private."

"The public has a right to know about this!"

I zeroed in on that comment. Gesturing to her, I asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"What?!" she gasped, putting one perfectly manicured, burgundy polished hand to her chest in surprise. "What business of yours is that?"

"My point exactly," I snapped. "These people are heroes, and they deserve to keep some things personal. And have you thought about the danger you would put the rest of these people in?" I gestured to Ava, Drake, Delia, Jane, Darcy. "You would be risking their safety if you were to publish these. The Avengers have made a few enemies along the way, it comes with the territory, but any one of those enemies could see these photos and think 'Hm, how can I make those Avengers pay? Oh, I know. I'll take some of their friends.' These are innocent people whose only crimes are that they have very famous friends."

She still didn't back down, and it was taking way too much effort to not punch her perfectly made up face. "You still can't stop us from printing these."

"Actually, I can. I have right here an injunction, signed by a judge last week, that prevents any and all unauthorized photos of the Avengers being published." I was actually quite pleased with my foresight on that one. It had been just in time.

Up to that point, the other reporters had seemed to agree with Obnoxious, if rather content to let her do battle with me. But once I told them about the legal ramifications, it took the wind right out of their sails. Not for Obnoxious, though. She seemed determined to fight to the bitter end. "But we've already begun printing. And legal action would take time, long after we'd already published several weeks. You can't stop it."

"Stark Industries has the best lawyers money can buy," I said bluntly. "All it takes is one phone call, and they would have your entire operation shut down faster than you can say 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes'."

She looked like she still might argue, so I cut her off. "Who are you with? Which company?"

"Teen People," she answered promptly, with pride.

"Wow, and this is what you want to sell to teenaged girls?" I asked, completely floored. "You would rather have them focused on famous people partying than important things, like starvation in Africa, or poverty in Venezuela? Look at this picture," I said, picking up the picture of Thor and Jane. "If you print this, all any girl would know is she's a pretty woman who snagged a superhero. They would never know that she's a brilliant scientist, one who's working on interdimensional travel. And really, really close to getting it to work. You print this picture," the one of Tasha and Clint, "and all they see is a gorgeous woman making out with an Avenger. They'd never know she speaks fourteen languages and knows thirty different forms of martial arts. This picture of Pepper makes it seem like she got where she is by sleeping with the boss, when that is far from the truth. It doesn't show that she is a brilliant businesswoman, making Stark Industries the biggest company in the world. You print these pictures, and not only do all of these people become targets, but you make them into so much less than they are. You teach girls that the only goal worth having is to hang on some famous guy's arm. You teach them that the only thing worth being is beautiful. You make them think that they should only be beautiful. And that is so wrong. They can be anything they want to be. If a little girl wants to be a model, or an actress, good for her. But if she wants to be a neurosurgeon, good for her. If she wants to be a modelling, acting neurosurgeon, fan-freaking-tastic for her. Every little girl can be whatever she wants to be, not just pretty."

After my rather passionate speech, the room was silent again for a brief moment. Then, from the far corner of the room, slow clapping started. "Bravo, Dr. Coulson," Marge, my favorite reporter, said. "I'm glad someone has the guts to say that."

"Figures she would be another feminazi," Daily Bugle muttered to his neighbor, who nodded in agreement.

"On the contrary, I am not a feminist," I countered. "I absolutely adore chivalry. Steve, that is, Captain Rogers, always opens doors, walks on the outside of the sidewalk, insists on paying for things. It's fantastic. What I am, sir, is an equalist. I want boys to be whatever they want to grow up to be just as much as little girls. These pictures would tell boys that all they need is a pretty girl on their arm, and suddenly they'll have everything they want. That women are only meant as decorations, as toys for them to play with and then cast aside when they are done. What these pictures don't tell them is the hard work that each of these superheroes put in to become what they are today, the effort needed for these results. I don't want boys to grow up to think that looks are all that matters any more than I want girls to, that girls are mere playthings. But that is exactly what these pictures are trying to portray, and you all know it."

Daily Bugle looked chastened and avoided my gaze after that. Teen People still had one more comment, though she did look rather more agreeable than before. "What about all the other pictures from last night? The ones already on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook."

At that, I grinned a bit. "This meeting was more of a courtesy than a request, actually. We've already removed every picture of the Avengers from last night. Even if you had tried to print them, you would have found that physically impossible. And if you care to peruse our injunction, you'll find we are completely within our rights. We have copies for everyone."

There was silence as everyone stared at me, then almost as one, grabbed their phones. A few more moments of silence ensued, as they all tried desperately to find pictures from the night before, and failed miserably. Finally, an E.T. rep broke the silence. "How did you do that?"

"You're currently in the headquarters of Stark Industries. If you can think it, we most likely can do it," I said, evading the fact that I was the one who'd come up with the idea and was one of the programmers. "And if we can't currently do it, Tony will keep himself awake until he's figured it out."

It wasn't long after that everyone left. That is, everyone but Teen People. She hung around awkwardly, almost like she was fighting herself. I took pity on her, after a few minutes. "Can I help you, Ms-?"

"Amber Freestone," she answered, looking rather embarrassed. "I actually was wondering-"

When she didn't continue, I prompted her. "You were wondering-?"

She seemed to take a deep breath, then plunged in, speaking rather quickly. "Could I interview you?"

"If you're hoping for a more in-depth look at the Avengers, I'm sorry, but you're going to be disappointed."

"No, I actually want to talk about you, a kind of woman-behind-the-scenes sort of thing," she rushed to explain. "And maybe to talk more about what you were saying earlier, about equality and the things we are teaching the next generation. I really agree with what you said, that's actually why I became a reporter. I kinda wanted to change how we see ourselves, how our kids see themselves."

It was her turn to floor me. I had thought that she was another brainless reporter, only worried about getting the next big scoop. "Wow, yeah, that would- that would be great," I assured her. "That would be fantastic."

We exchanged numbers, planning to meet the next week for our interview. "Black Widow is going to have some competition. Girls are going to have a new hero to look up to," Amber flattered.

"I don't know about that. Tasha is pretty incredible," I joked.

"And it would appear that so are you. But I just have one question, off the record," she said, seeming a little nervous.

"What?" I had no idea what she wanted, but I was definitely curious.

Amber appeared to argue with herself, but in the end, her curiosity got the better of her. "Is Captain Rogers as good a kisser as he seems?" she blurted out, blushing horrifically.

I shook my head seriously. Just as her eyes reached the size of eggs, I broke into a grin. "He's so much better."

...

After my little triumph over the media, I decided that I definitely deserved some of Darcy's fabulous muffins from the day before. That is, if there were any left. Knowing Steve and Bucky, they'd probably snagged them all before heading out on their run.

Once in the kitchen, I managed to scrounge up one lonely little muffin, and I simply had to rescue it from its loneliness. I paired it with the amazing hot chocolate Tony had flown in from France, just for me. Sometimes, it really was good to be me.

I was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, enjoying my breakfast while lost in the newest edition of Popular Mechanics, the one Tony had left out for everyone to admire because he was on the cover (again), when familiar, strong arms wrapped themselves around my middle. Leaning back against his chest, I prepared myself for Steve's routine of burying his face in my neck, lacing my fingers through his. Just his touch was enough to chase away the remnants of the hangover I'd been battling.

Like I'd expected, Steve nuzzled into my neck. He usually pressed kisses into my hair, just cuddling me and making me feel utterly cherished. He did that, but there was one small change. For once, my hair was all up, so instead of pressing kisses into my hair, he was tracing the line of my throat with his lips. My heart rate instantly skyrocketed, which he felt, since he decided to linger over my pulse point for a moment, before then going to tug on my earlobe with his teeth.

I could only take him playing with my earring with his mouth for so long, before I groaned, turning on my stool to face him. "You are trying to kill me, aren't you?" I asked, before kissing him full on the lips.

Steve's response was immediate. He kissed me back greedily, like he couldn't get enough of me. In some ways, it was like the kisses we'd shared the night before, but in most, it was so much better. We were alone, for one, and I didn't have to beat girls away, which was nice. But it was more than that. It was like he was trying to pour everything he felt for me into this one kiss, just so I wouldn't forget. And I was definitely trying to do the same.

"Wow, Cap, way to make every other guy feel insufficient."

Tony's voice ripped us from the moment. I looked over to see him and Pepper watching us, Tony with amusement, and Pepper with adoration. Steve and I both blushed furiously, and while I was embarrassed into silence, Steve started babbling. "I'm sorry, I just- She just- Emily was just so beautiful sitting here, and I-"

Pepper took pity on him. "Oh, honey, you never have to apologize for kissing your girlfriend like that. And it was probably the most romantic kiss I've ever seen in real life."

I blushed harder at that, probably turning as red as my hair. "Thanks," I squeaked, wishing really hard that she and Tony would just leave.

"C'mon, Tony," Pepper said suddenly, granting my wish like she was my very own fairy godmother. "You were going to take me to breakfast, remember?"

"I was?" Tony asked, suddenly very confused.

"Well, you are now," she amended. "Let's go."

Steve and I avoided looking at each other the whole time the strawberry blonde dragged her billionaire boyfriend out of the room. Then, once they were safely out of earshot, we glanced at each other and burst into laughter. The awkward tension of the situation released itself in the form of gut-wrenching, belly-bursting laughs. We both just laughed and laughed, to the point that tears were streaming down our faces and I was clinging to him, hoping not to fall over.

When our hilarity died down, I found myself once again in his arms. We both sobered, and he pushed a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "I love you, Em, so much," he whispered.

"I love you, too," I answered, smiling up at him.

"I know I've been kind of neglecting you lately," he started, but I rushed to assure him.

"It's okay, it's part of being a superhero-"

"No, it's not okay," he cut me off sternly. "You are the most important person in my life, and I shouldn't ignore you like I have been. I know I have the whole Avengers thing, and you have your work, and we have our friends, but I can't let all that get between us. I mean, we've been dating for what? Three, four months now? And I've never even taken you on a date. You have got to be the most understanding girlfriend ever."

"Well, you have been a little busy lately, what with saving the world and your best friend and all," I said flippantly, trying to get him to see that I wasn't expecting anything more than what we already had.

"It's no excuse. You and I are going to find ways to spend time together, just the two of us. I mean it, Em. You mean so much to me, and I don't want to lose you because I let things get between us."

I could see this meant a lot to him, and I couldn't deny the thrill that went through me at the thought of spending more time with Steve. "I wouldn't say no to seeing you a little more," I teased flirtatiously.

A grin broke over his face. "In that case, Emily, will you go on a date with me tomorrow night?" He was so ridiculously happy, and it was catchy.

"I would be delighted. Where are we going?"

"That, doll, is a secret. But wear that dress I like." With that, he kissed my cheek, winked at me, and vanished before I could really comprehend what he'd said.

"Wear that dress I like?" I echoed incredulously. How was I supposed to know which one that was?

AN: Guess what, guys? I actually have a plot for this story! And it is something more than just fluffy Steve/Emily moments! Though I did manage to fit one in there anyway. I'm going to try to update more frequently. Thanks to all who've reviewed/favorited/followed. It makes my heart happy to see all of them. Once again, thanks for sticking with me and Emily. I love you all!

P.S. I have no idea if my legal mumbo jumbo is accurate at all, but it sounded good! After all, I'm a writer, not a lawyer :) And in case anyone is wondering, Sam is the one who nudged Steve into being more romantic with Em. He's just paying her back, after all.