The Journal of Stephen Strange
First night of the new moon
Have spent the better part of the day with Miss Todd—Sydney—and found it refreshing. Seattle reminds me of part of upstate in fact, and spending more time there will be easier because of it.
We visited a farmer's market and then a bookstore that I found to be tinged with magic. Given its name, I should not have been surprised, but it was unexpected. I doubt the owner is aware of which tomes hold a touch of power but there are several and I intend to purchase them on some return visit. Sydney bought a book on pregnancy and I will add that it pleased me to learn that she is an avid reader: that at least is a point of commonality.
Later we bought coffee, which is apparently some sort of legal requirement in Seattle, but at least the particular brand we had was fairly good. Sydney spoke of herself, glossing over an abusive childhood before speaking in lighter terms about her life in Seattle and her team mates. There is much good in her, and much potential. I understand why the entity was drawn to her strong spirit and open heart. They are increasingly rare qualities in this jaded day and age.
I confess that I was tempted to look into her thoughts at one or two points in the day, but refrained from doing so as a point of honesty. Whatever she fears or fancies I will discover through other methods in the process of our peculiar courtship. It is one, in fact. I could not bed any woman, particularly this young woman without some degree of wooing given what must take place within a fortnight.
And I DO desire her. Despite all the trappings of magic and sorcery, I remain a flesh and blood man under it all, as driven by urges of the body as anyone else. Her kiss of the night before lingers in my memory, a teasing reminder of that.
Foolish, but true.
-oo00oo—
Two more days passed. Even across the span of the continent he sensed her low ebb, the flow of her menses sapping her energies. On a whim Strange brought her salted chocolate one evening and she nearly wept.
"Okay, this is just uncanny," she mumbled through a mouthful. "I know it's very cliché to have cravings, but wow."
"Biochemistry at its finest," he murmured.
She lay on the sofa, curled on her side, an old-fashioned hot water bottle against her abdomen and he noted that her pajamas had little penguins on them. Sydney spotted his gaze and sighed.
"I used to use a heating pad but hot water works better for me," she told him. "I hope this isn't hurting the baby."
"I doubt it. My half is . . . hibernating," Strange told her. "I can sense it sleeping if I concentrate. It's stronger, however, which is a good sign. Sydney, I think I can help, if you will permit me."
She gave him a wary look. "I've heard the line about sex being good for cramps. It's not true you know."
"Not that," he replied, slightly startled. "Just . . . a few pressure points to your lower back that may alleviate some of the pain."
"Go for it," she sighed, and rolled to face the back of the sofa. Strange pulled the coffee table up and sat on it, lightly running a hand up her back, feeling the little knobs of her spine though her tank top as she curled away from him.
Splaying his hands above her hips, Strange sent warmth through her skin and down to the tense muscles there, manipulating points of heat along the tight fibers. Slow pressure helped too, and a few moments later she gave a deep, pleased sigh. "Ohhhhhh . . ."
Smiling briefly to himself, Strange slid one hand up her back, lightening the warmth, dragging it up and to her shoulders where he let it soothe the tension in her shoulder blades one at a time.
"Wow. Between the chocolate and the massage, I'm pretty much yours," came her contented sigh. "Sooooo much better."
"You don't need more pain," he murmured softly, catching sight of a small round burn scar on the back of her shoulder and frowning. "Relax."
"I am," Sydney told him, "much better."
As he pulled back, part of his hand brushed the dimples at the base of her spine, and Strange wondered what it would be like to kiss them. Shaking the sensual thought off, he left the heat to linger and pulled his hands back, flexing them a little. "That should last a while," he murmured to her.
"Thank you so much," Sydney replied, looking over her shoulder at him. "You have a nice touch."
He gave a bittersweet smile. "I was noted for it, once."
She held his gaze and after a few moments added, "we need a make-out session."
He wasn't sure he heard her correctly. "I beg your pardon?"
"You know, a long stretch of kissing," Sydney was definitely pink in the face but earnest. "I think part of our problem is that we're still kind of hands-off and that's going to make it even more awkward when we have to make love."
"You never fail to astound me with your . . . pragmatism," Strange muttered, aware that his face was hot.
She rolled to face him, blowing her bangs with a chuff of breath. "I do sort of speak my mind, but in this case it makes sense. In real relationships that's how it goes, right? People meet up and after a few dates they start allowing their physical attraction to uh, manifest itself. At least, that's the theory."
"Do you have any idea how long it's been since I . . . never mind," Strange shook his head.
Sydney's eyes twinkled. "How long it's been since?" she prompted.
"Since I've dated?" Strange finally finished. "Woman, I am one of the guardians of this dimension. I spend my days refining my occult knowledge and defending humanity from astral demons and monsters."
"Which means you're probably overdue for some necking," Sydney pointed out. "All your credentials are impressive but you're a man too, and that's who I need to trust."
They looked at each other, and Strange felt a surge of genuine affection as he managed a smile. "How did you get so wise beyond your years?"
"Hard living," Sydney snorted. She reached out a hand to him, letting her fingers interlace with his, her cooler touch against the fading warmth of his. "All right then, when's a good time for you?"
Immediately came to mind, but he pushed that aside and considered. "Today is Thursday, so Saturday would begin the shift of the moon to waxing, and give you time to rest. Would you prefer a restaurant here or in New York for dinner?"
"Ooooh, dinner too," Sydney chuckled. "Wow, you are a gentleman. Well the Skycity at the top of the Space Needle is always nice if you've never been there, and I can show you the dent in the sidewalk one of my teammates left when he fell. He survived so it's kind of a local landmark now."
"Delightful," Strange told her, fighting a smirk. "Seven o'clock?"
"I'll get us reservations," she assured him.
Strange rose from the coffee table and bent to her, lightly brushing his lips to hers in the barest hint of a kiss. "Until Saturday then."
Her lashes fluttered and he sensed a surge of heat from her. "Yes. And thank you."
Giving a nod Strange slipped away through the vortex, feeling unexpectedly pleased.
-oo00oo-
The restaurant had been a pleasant surprise, he acknowledged. While Seattle wasn't nearly the metropolis that New York was, the panorama, particularly after dark, was beautiful, and Strange had enjoyed having Sydney point out various landmarks as they had dinner. Certainly she knew her city well despite fog obscuring parts of it.
Her dress worried him. It clung to her, and while the neckline wasn't exactly plunging it had enough of a drop to frame her cleavage in a pleasantly distracting way. Strange suspected it was deliberate, although whether it was an enticement or bold confidence was still debatable. Either way he certainly enjoyed the display.
Their dinner conversation meandered from books through philosophy, travel and music until the lull as their waiter finally brought them the check wallet, setting it before Strange with a little flourish. Sydney gave him a look he was beginning to recognize as indicative of a stubborn statement coming on. He sighed.
"No," he told her gently. "While I appreciate your independence and self-sufficiency, I can be obstinate too. Your city, your dining choice; my treat."
"Thank you," she told him, looking a little chagrined at his mild tone. "It's . . . hard for me to be gracious."
"As with all things, practice helps," he told her with just enough lightness to make her smile in wry response.
When they reached her apartment building Sydney turned to look at him, her gaze ever so slightly predatory. "Maybe here's where I start," she told him as she stepped into the elevator. Strange followed her, feeling a flare of heat under his stomach at her tone. She poked the button for the seventh floor and turned to him as the car rose, eyes bright.
"Yes, I'm nervous," she admitted. "But ready."
Those echoed his own thoughts, and Strange reached for her, pulling her closer. He brought his face close to hers and whispered. "I can see right down your décolleté from this angle."
Sydney spluttered into giggles, lightly pushing his chest with one hand as the elevator slowed to a stop. Still smiling she moved to her door, trying to fish out her key but Strange touched the knob and every lock clicked open at the same time.
This made her laugh again and she stepped inside, setting her clutch down. Strange followed her in, aware that she hadn't turned on the lights, and that the glow of the other buildings shone through the curtains. She reached up and touched the edge of his goatee with two gentle fingers, stroking it to the corner of his mouth.
"I'd like to kiss you," Sydney told him. "And not think about anything but enjoying it."
"My pleasure," he rumbled back, aware of a sweet edge to this moment, as if everything they were had been left behind them in the elevator or along the wet roads and all that stood here in the semi-darkness existed on senses alone.
"Just . . . this . . ." Sydney reaffirmed, and tipped her face to him, reaching to meet his lips as he lowered them to hers ever so gently.
Her mouth was tenderly soft, yielding to his after a heartbeat, and the velvet tip of her tongue slid against his, making him groan a bit. Responses that had been dormant for far too long were flaring now, and Strange's arms encircled her frame, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss.
Sydney fit nicely against him. The press of their hips held heat, and Strange took his time shifting from one kiss to another, savoring the taste of her mouth. When she broke for a breath, her purr quickened his pulse. "Yes," she told him. "Verrrry nice."
"Mmmmmm," was all he could manage because she had sucked his lower lip into her mouth and nibbled it. A sweet frisson of sheer lust raced through him and his grip around her tightened.
She laughed, but Strange cut it off with another kiss, this one definitely more demanding. Sydney melted, yielding to him breathlessly. In that single heartbeat their intensity rose, and Strange found himself entangled by kisses that ranged from savage to sweet. The brush of his goatee along her neck made her roll her hips against him; a soft bite to her throat left her shuddering hard; and when he dropped his hands to cup the firm globes of her ass, Sydney gave a moan that went straight to his heavy prick.
"Sssssssofa," she hissed at him, her hair looking tousled in the dim light, pulling him along.
He dropped onto it and Sydney climbed to straddle his lap, her fingers raking his silvered temples as she dropped another blistering kiss on his mouth. The sudden warm weight of her on his lap at precisely the right moment left Strange biting back a pleasured groan.
Damned good, he thought hazily, and it was his last conscious thought for a while as they continued their slick kisses. Gradually Strange turned his attention to the neckline that had taunted him most of the evening, sliding a hand up to cup one of Sydney's breasts.
She gave a strangled squeak, which sounded adorable. Strange lightly kissed the lovely hollow at the base of her throat, aware of her flush, and his thumb rubbed over the stiff rise of her nipple through the thin material. Sydney wriggled, an action that he appreciated greatly.
He repeated it, bringing his other hand up, slowly flicking and rubbing the tips of her breasts until she began grinding hard against him, her kiss ragged through little gasps of pleasure. Within minutes she shuddered against Strange, whimpering. Outside, a sudden boom of thunder rolled through the skies.
"Ohhhhh God," Sydney sighed, slumping against him. "I'm sorry!"
Strange laughed. "For what?" he asked, slipping a hand from her chest to cup the side of her face. "That was both lovely and gratifying to do. The atmospheric discharge was simply . . . a bonus."
She chuckled a little as well. "On my honor I had no idea that was going to happen. It never has before."
Strange couldn't help a smirk. "I'm flattered."
"You're also . . ." before he could move or object, Sydney shifted, sliding a hand into his trousers, her palm cupping his turgid length. Her fingers slipped around him as best they could and she began a stroking squeeze.
It was deliciously rough and he'd already been on edge for so long that within moments Strange rocked his hips up against her grip, hot surges pulsing heavily against her hand, seeping everywhere. He growled in pleasure, one hand around her waist, the other tangled her dark hair.
Sydney kissed his neck, working her way up along the side until her lips were near his ear. "So . . . you have one of those cleaning-up spells, right?"
He snorted very softly. "That's Harry Potter. The only fix for this mortifying situation is a damp washcloth, my dear."
She giggled.
