Till the End of the Line: Our Now | Stucky Fanfic

Chapter Two

Unedited, but enjoy! ~ J 

Chapter Two

2012

A newspaper fell in front of Steve. In big letters, it read "The Man Out of Time," with a picture of Captain America fighting in the Battle of New York beneath it.

"You know what this is?" Fury asked, his voice oddly gentle, yet still commanding.

Steve blushed and nodded. "I'm sorry, sir. A lady spoke to me at Tony's party and-"

"Did you not realize she was a reporter?" Fury raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as he leaned against his desk.

"I didn't realize she was until we'd already started talking and then one thing led to another," he trailed off, his head falling forward in shame.

Fury patted his shoulder. "It's alright. We were planning on announcing your status as Captain America and give most of the details sooner or later. Don't tell anyone this, but I wasn't sure if you were ready to go public. I wanted to give you some time to acclimate to this century. Looks like you were ready, though," he motioned to the newspaper in front of Steve.

Steve sat up a little. "Am I in trouble, or?"

"You're not in trouble," Steve could have sworn he heard humor in Fury's voice, "you just came out a little earlier than expected."

"Came out?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

Fury waved him off. "It's an expression. Anyway, I've got PR working on containing this and making sure we have everything under control. You're the new face of the Avengers, Cap. Prepare to be bombarded." Fury moved to sit in his desk. "You've got training with PR. They'll show you how to act-"

"You do realize I was a public figure before I was a soldier, correct?" Steve mused, already moving towards the door.

The corner of Fury's lips twitched upwards, "That may be true, but times have changed. Good luck, Rogers."

Steve traveled down to the Public Relations floor where an excited young woman met him just outside the elevator. "Good morning, Captain, sir," she exclaimed, saluting with a pen in her hand.

It took everything in him not to cringe. "Morning," he replied instead. "I'm here for training?"

"And I'm here to take you to training. My name is Denise, I'm a communications intern here at S.H.I.E.L.D." Denise stuck out her hand, her pen now tucked behind her ear. "It's an absolute pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," he mumbled. He cleared his throat, "Should we?" He pointed to the hallway, already moving in that direction.

"Right this way," Denise commented as she led him down the hall. "You know how to project your voice, I assume, and entertain, correct?"

"As much as the USO taught me," Steve answered.

"So we shouldn't have to focus too terribly much on that. What about interviews? I saw the one you gave that lady from the Tribune," Denise glanced back at him with a curl to her lip, "and you need some work."

"How so?"

"You never give all of your information away. You give enough to appease them, but never lead on that you know more than you're giving. Especially when it concerns S.H.I.E.L.D. and it's projects." Denise waved her hand in front of them. "Your trainer, Polly Reagan, will explain all of that and help you keep things to yourself."

Steve sighed, "Great."

He spent hours on the PR floor. Polly, a middle-aged woman with a tight blond bun and a pencil skirt, walked him through the interview process multiple times. She scolded him whenever his eyebrows furrowed when they weren't supposed to or when his smile seemed a bit too fake. She taught him what to say and how to say it to keep as much information to himself. She walked him through TV interviews for after big, public battles like the Battle of New York.