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“Take these,” a brusque redhead pressed a set of notecards into Steve’s hands. “Read them word for word.”
“What are these?” he asked, skimming them.
The redhead ignored him. “You, here,” she handed a stack to Wanda. “ Word for word .” She made to leave, but Steve stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.
“What are these?” Steve repeated.
The woman went dangerous still. “Touch me again and you’ll regret it,” she hissed, peeling Steve’s hand off her shoulder roughly. She took a minute to compose herself before fixing him with a calm glare. “These are your remarks for the upcoming press conference. You and Ms. Maximoff get cards because you both did the most damage and people want answers, which are provided on the cards. Anyone who didn’t get a stack remains silent. You are not to take questions or deviate from the cards at all, otherwise there will be consequences and I will enforce them with a smile. Am I clear?”
Steve stared in shock. Who did this lady think she was, telling him what to do? Luckily, Natasha smoothly took over.
“Crystal clear,” she said sweetly. Only those who knew her could recognize the venom in her tone.
“Good,” the woman walked away. “Press conference in an hour.” As she left, she continued to mitter under her breath. “I swear to god, next time Laila is getting those assholes, no matter how much coffee she brings me. My head hurts.”
“This is stupid,” Clint scoffed, flicking through Steve’s cards. “They want us to apologize for breaking a building? We caught the bad guy!”
“They want Wanda to apologize for using her mental magics to evacuate civilians,” Sam read out.
The room erupted in fury. Steve whistled loudly to get their attention.
“We won’t read them,” he said. “We can write a new statement and explain what really happened. How hard can PR be?”
---
“...So, we’re sorry about the damages, but we’re sure they’ll be fixed in no time. We had to catch the bad guy, I’m sure you all can understand that,” Steve concluded. The room was silent for a moment before questions were shouted in a cacophony. Clint, impatient, gestured at a brunet with a large notepad.
“Matt Smith, CNN,” he said. “Who is going to pay for the damages? The Accords Council has a cap on their funds, and you guys exceeded it with this month’s missions. Are you setting up your own relief programs or do you plan to see if the Maria Stark Foundation will help?”
Clint looked to Steve for help. “Um,” Steve stuttered. “We were unaware of the cap on relief funds, there hadn't ever been one before.”
“That’s because Dr. Stark would pay out of pocket for your collateral, even when he caused very little,” Smith said.
“Oh, look,” Clint scoffed. “A Stark fan. He only did that to make himself look good, you know.”
Smith shrugged. “It worked,” he said with a smirk. “He has the highest approval rating of any Avenger. But you haven’t answered my question. Who is paying?”
“We’ll ask the Maria Stark Foundation, I guess,” Steve answered. “Next question, please.” He pointed at a blonde in the first row who he recognized from her familiarity with Tony.
“Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair,” she introduced herself. “My question is for Ms. Maximoff. Why did you decide to violate the mental autonomy of 319 people instead of telling them to evacuate? And what is the Avengers’ plan to deal with attacks like these in the future?”
Red mist gathered around Wanda’s hands as she seethed. “I did not attack anyone!”
“She’s just a kid, she didn’t know better,” Steve explained. Christine looked like the cat who got the canary.
“So you approve of child soldiers?” she asked, pen scribbling fast across her page.
“No!” Steve was aghast. “That’s not what I said!”
“If Ms. Maximoff is a kid and you approve of her fighting, she is by definition a child soldier.”
“I am not a child!” Wanda screamed, throwing a ball of red at the press corps. It was blocked by a flare of gold.
Stephen Strange portalled into the room, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Sorry, everyone,” he drawled. “This press conference is now over. Maximoff will be facing disciplinary actions for her attempted attack, don’t worry. Now, if you’ll please follow Mr. Hogan out of the room, he will escort you to a council member for a real statement.”
Steve stepped forward protectively, shuffling his team behind him. “What are you doing here, Strange?” he asked.
“Taking out the trash,” he replied sweetly. “Follow me, please. I’d rather not do this here.” He opened a portal, and one by one, they hopped through. In the room they were in, the redheaded PR lady from earlier, a couple suits, and Carol Danvers were waiting.
“What’s happening?” Steve said, on his guard.
“You fucked up,” Strange answered. “Mary, here-” he gestured to the redhead. “-told you to read from the cards. I’m not sure what the fuck you did, but I owe Tony ten bucks now. He bet me that you guys would have a more memorable press conference than he’s ever had, including when he shut down weapons, and he won. This was a clusterfuck. Have fun cleaning it up! Carol?”
Danvers looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there with them. “Effective immediately, I’m suspending all of you from active duty,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. They tried anyway.
“That's not fair!” Steve protested loudly.
“This is Stark punishing us, I know it,” Clint swore.
“You did this to yourselves,” Mary, the PR woman, spat. “I told you to read the fucking cards. We wouldn’t be in this shit if you had read the fucking cards! ” She turned to Carol. “If I’m staying on this job, I want assistants. And a raise.”
Carol smiled. “That can be arranged.”
Mary wheeled on Steve. “And you!” she shouted. “Can’t you accept that you don't always know best? I trained for years in one of the world’s top PR offices. I know what I’m doing. Your experience is being a dancing monkey for the USO!” She stopped and though for a second. “Since all of you are off active duty, you’ll be training to handle press conferences every morning. Maybe you’ll even learn some basic manners, but I won’t hold my breath. Seven AM in Conference Room 3, don’t be late.” She stomped out of the room in a huff.
“That was unprofessional,” Steve remarked, feeling like he had to call the woman out for her behavior.
“You just made her job infinitely more difficult, so I think we can let it slide,” Strange said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a boyfriend waiting for me at home. Bye now!” He did a jaunty little wave (that was clearly mocking) and portalled out.
Carol groaned softly. “Now, onto consequences for Maximoff…”
---
“You owe me ten bucks,” Tony said, holding out a hand expectantly as soon as Stephen walked in.
“You’re a billionaire, you don’t need my money,” Stephen complained, digging through his pockets.
Tony shrugged. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“You’re an ass,” Stephen used his magic to throw the crumpled bill at Tony’s head.
“And?” Tony asked, clearly having not forgotten the other part of their bet.
Stephen rolled his eyes dramatically. “You, Tony Stark, are always right and I am in awe of your genius.”
Tony cheered. “Fri, baby, you got that?”
“Setting it as your ringtone now, Boss,” she confirmed.
Stephen pouted and Tony leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss. “Don’t be a sore loser,” he said against Stephen’s lips. He pulled away, flopping on the sofa to watch the TV. “Now come sit, they’re playing the highlights of that shitshow.”
Stephen sat, conjuring up some popcorn from the kitchen. “Normal stakes says the Rogues don’t show up for their mandatory PR training tmorrow,” he said, stroking Tony’s hair.
Tony snorted indelicately. “I’m not that dumb, honey.”
“Worth a shot,” Stephen sighed.
“Shh, they’re saying something dumb,” Tony said, covering Stephen’s mouth with his hand.
“When are they not?”
Later, Stephen knew that he, Tony, and the rest of the New Avengers would have fires to put out from this absolute disaster. But for now, he was content to have Tony in his lap purring like a kitten as they hate-watched coverage and threw popcorn at the TV, like proper boyfriends.
(“You have terrible aim!”
“I have no fine motor control, Tony.”
“You don’t need your fingers, just use your hand like a catapult. Here, I’ll show you.”
“That was terrible, you’ve made a huge mess.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”
“I hate you.”
“I know. Now hush or throw more popcorn.”)