Steve steels his jaw and crosses his arms over his chest. "Absolutely not."

"Captain Rogers," Maria sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. It's the same expression she gets whenever her frustration with Steve mounts to unprecedented levels. "Public perception of superheroes is at an all-time low. If we don't start doing something to change it, you're going to be spending a hell of a lot more time explaining yourself in front of government committees, and Superman won’t be the only one facing trial."

"I'm not giving some leech of a reporter access to my team."

"I'm talking about sending in a journalist, Steve, not a paparazzi," says Maria. Her lips have thinned in that way that suggests her patience is quickly dwindling.

"Is there a difference? You expect me to let some reporter hang around where they'll only get in the way, set my team on edge--"

"I want them to profile the Avengers so the public has a better understanding of the purpose of this team and its members," she corrects. "It's only a few days. They'll tag along, shadow you, see what the daily life of an Avenger entails." She slides a piece of paper in their direction. "We've narrowed it down to a few reputable reporters who should be objective. You can take your pick."

Steve leans forward to glance at the document, but the names on the list mean little to him. "The only name I recognize is Lane."

"No offence, Cap, but even you're not ready to take on Lois Lane," Tony says. It's the first time he's spoken in this meeting. "She's fair, but relentless. She'd eat us alive." He picks up the list to scan for himself. "Pick Kent."

Brows raised, Steve turns to look at his friend. "You think this is a good idea?"

Tony sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I think it's necessary," he says. "Look, Steve, I'm not exactly thrilled about this either. But I know how these things work and this could be in our best interest. We need to gain the public's trust before this gets out of hand."

Steve's shoulders drop, resigning himself to the situation. If Tony thinks this is what the team needs, Steve trusts it to be the case.

"It's settled, then," Maria announces, pushing her chair back to get up. She's clearly as eager to end this meeting as they are. "PR will contact the Daily Planet. Expect Clark Kent on your doorstep next week."

*

On Monday morning, Steve goes out for an extra long run, tagging on an additional ten miles to his usual route. By the time he makes it back to the tower, his legs are pleasantly sore, muscles vibrating from the strain.

He walks in through the private entrance, surprised to find another figure waiting for the residential elevator.

"Can I help you?" Steve asks as he approaches, and the man turns to face him. He's about Steve's height, his brown overcoat reaching down to his knees. The thick-rimmed glasses he's wearing accentuate a chiseled jaw and dimpled chin. His dark hair is neatly styled, not a single strand out of place.