-Non native speaker and unbetaed
-A slight spoiler to The Great Game in Sherlock.

Tony looked at the woman standing in front of him. In the old days before Pepper Potts, she was definitely his type, aka hot females. However, now was the new era.

"Mr. Stark, did you hear anything I say?"

"I heard that you were asking for funding to build a new wing in Metro-General Hospital. Although I always do my share to help, I still would like to reason why you asked me specifically, Dr. Palmer."

Christine rolled her eyes. What was it about geniuses and their egos? But the hospital needed the money so she needed to be patient. She smiled. "We ask for every billionaire in New York City but you are in the top of our list."

"Is that because I'm the most charming of them all?"

Christine refrained herself from rolling her eyes again. Eye strain was not pretty. "Well, that's part of the reason but mostly because you are Iron Man."

"Well, I certainly am but what has that got to do with anything?"

"As soon as you announced that you were Iron Man, a lot of other superheroes and supervillains have crawled out of the woodwork. That means a lot more idiotic and epic fights occur. Those fights always claim victims and where do you think all the victims go?"

Tony was speechless for a few milliseconds. This must be the result of not sleeping enough. After he regained the power of speech, he asked, "Are you saying that there is a direct correlation between me being Iron Man and more super powered people appearing?"

Christine rolled her eyes. She earned it this time. "No shit, Sherlock. Your announcement inspired those people to come out of the closet or lair or cave or wherever superpower people live."

As soon as he heard the "No shit, Sherlock", Tony had a weird flashback of himself dressed in Victorian clothing complete with top hat and he was holding a gun. That was definitely not his style especially the gun. He shook his head. Definitely caffeine induced hallucination, he needed to sleep.

He needed to maintain his dignity. "Oh please, Dr. Palmer, I live in a mansion. Besides, where does your superhero on-and-off boyfriend live again? Unless you consider Bleecker Street as a lair or a cave. Lair is so 19th century." He shook his head. What was wrong with him and preoccupation with 19th century? "And mind your language, you are lucky Cap is not around. What much do you need again? Is five million enough? Nah, I'll give you ten million. It'll be better for my conscience according to my therapist."

He gave the check to an open-mouthed Dr. Palmer. "It's always my pleasure. See you in the next gala."

He really needed to go to bed now before he started hallucinating himself smoking a tobacco pipe.

Stephen accessed his situation as he and Ross raised their hands. He was without his sling ring and his cloak. Ross was also weaponless. That was the problem meeting with bureaucrats. They insisted on no weapon. Somehow a ring was considered a weapon. He wondered whether airport security confiscated people's rings. His cloak was not considered as a weapon. However, Sophie knew the meeting would be boring so she flew away doing whatever a sentient cloak did in her own free time. Perhaps solving a crossword puzzle or plotting to take over the world? Who knew?

Well, the joke was on her now because the meeting was not boring at all with five men pointing guns at him and Ross. He whispered the first thing that came out in his mind. "It seems like they want us alive. They could have shot us as soon as they barged into the room."

Ross rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock."

As soon as he heard the phrase, he had a flashback of himself dressed in a tailored shirt with a high collared cloak twirling in non-existent wind. He somehow knew he was English. Another strange (haha, he could laugh at his own name) thing was that Ross was there too and he was his best friend. They were standing near a swimming pool and the red dots of snipers were peppered around their chests and heads.

He shook his head to clear out the image. Interesting. Those must be him and Ross in another dimension.

He was about to create some distractions when he saw Sophie peeked behind the gunmen. He gave a telepathical instruction to Sophie. "Now."

Sophie flew in and wrapped all the guns together and yanked them out of their reaches. It was not her fault that they were so dumb standing together so closely so it made her job so simple. She left the rest of the grunt work for her master and his associate. She knew boys liked to fight. They were so predictable.

After all the goons were shipped off to wherever the Task Force sent them to, Stephen asked Ross, "Do you ever have this weird flashback of us being best friends and English?"

Ross was surprised. "I had such a flashback when the gunmen barged in. You were dressed in a high-collared coat, not unlike your current cloak. Do you know what that means?"

"Besides me in the other dimension and I have the same taste in cloak or coat, I have no idea."

"So do you think those are us in another dimension?"

"Well, it's the most possible explanation as we know now that there are multiple dimensions."

"I still can't get my head around that."

Stephen could sympathize with that. "It takes time. Do you want to get some tea?" He was surprised as soon he said that. He drank coffee, not tea. "Or coffee?"

"I could use a cup of coffee. And Dr. Strange, once you found out but the other us in the other dimension, could you let me know? I'm curious."

"So am I. I'll definitely let you know. And you can call me Stephen after what we've been through."

Notes:

-Yes, I just wrote this fic for the sole purpose of the title phrase. I hope this phrase will be uttered to either Tony or Strange or both in MCU. Otherwise, it's a wasted opportunity. Perhaps in Infinity War?
-It would be easier for Ross to talk to Tony and Christine to Strange as they have met but I switch them on purpose. I guess you know the reason. If not, please let me know.

-Thanks to Unknownnobody32 for correcting some of the mistakes I made.
-Feedback and comments are welcome.