As Tony suited up, Stephen paced, mind spinning. How? How had the Space Stone found its way to Earth? How long had it been here, and how long people been experimenting on it?

Had Asgard never had it? Or had they somehow lost an Infinity Stone on Earth?

How had the planet not blown itself up or become a beacon for one of the many alien races who would be more than happy and able to annihilate them for that almost unimaginable power?

All right, that might be underselling his – the – Order a bit. Assuming they knew where it was, he could understand not wanting to bring it into close proximity with the Time Stone. Honestly, more than one Infinity Stone just being on the same planet was too close a proximity. It made him nervous.

Unless they were actively being used, Infinity Stones generally didn't give off a lot of noticeable energy or power. And the mystical shield around the Earth should dampen most of that. However, it was hardly what he would call fool-proof, and who knew whether the person or people who had the Stone knew what they were doing, or what it was. He wasn't sure whether knowledge or ignorance was more dangerous here, honestly.

His suspicions that SHIELD was the one holding the Space Stone just agitated him further. Following the trail from Tony to Howard, who had helped found a shady organization whose mandate included the bizarre, unusual, and alien… He really hoped he was wrong.

Did it matter either way? What could he do about it? It wasn't his job any longer. He wanted nothing to do with Infinity Stones.

They were protected from all types of searching anyway, technical or mystical. If Stephen really wanted to locate the Space Stone, he would have to do so manually and rely on hacking and luck, even assuming that his suspicions regarding SHIELD were correct. He wasn't much of a hacker, especially if he didn't know what terms the organization would use to refer to the Stone, and his luck tended towards overwhelmingly bad.

No. He had no patience for an exercise in futility. It wasn't his responsibility. The Ancient One had far greater experience than he did, and was the native to this dimension. She hardly required his interference.

And Tony needed him.

Stephen shook himself, focusing on the grounding thought of Tony. His presence that drew the sorcerer to him, like a well of gravity to the here and now.

Tony, who was blasting off with a shouted good-bye.

The sorcerer trotted outside, setting all thoughts of Infinity Stones aside. He'd been meaning to visit the Stark Expo, anyway. Although he doubted he would get to see much of it this time. It was a shame, but there would be other opportunities. Tony would make sure of it, as would Stephen.

He half expected chaos and panic when he stepped through the portal onto Expo grounds, unnoticed thanks to the magic inherent in the sling rings. But the night seemed normal so far. There were no screams that he could hear, no running aside from the odd child as visitors wandered between buildings.

Stephen easily slipped into the crowd, his slacks, shirt, and jacket allowing him to blend in without a second glance. Pausing at a sign, he folded gloved hands behind his back and pretended to read as he considered where to position himself. Without knowing where the threat was located, or what that threat was, exactly, it would be better to have a broad view out of immediate eyesight. Especially if his self-appointed role was to protect the crowd while Tony took care of the threat.

Drawing up a mental map of the Expo was easy. He'd seen drafts and blueprints so often that he thought even someone without a photographic memory would have memorized it by now.

There were advantages to placing himself at the center of the grounds, but he was afraid he would be too slow to notice and respond if something happened to occur out of his immediate line of sight. He was also leery of leaving his back unguarded. He had never been able to shake the edge of paranoia when going into battle without his Cloak, no matter how many years had passed since he had lost it, nor how well he had learned to compensate for its absence.

Stephen chose to settle on a roof at one end of the Expo grounds instead. It would be more difficult to react to anything happening on the far side, but at least he could overlook the entirety of the grounds from his position. Deciding which end was a bit more difficult, but he assumed that the busiest and most vulnerable area would be near the main parking lot and shuttle stop.

The sorcerer leaned back against one rooftop access wall, crossed his arms, and settled into meditation. The weather was warm enough that his gloves were a little incongruous, but the point was not to be seen at all. He stayed away from the edge so his silhouette wouldn't give him away, and it was late enough that he should blend into the dark. Assuming anyone happened to look up, of course, which was rare.

Stephen opened his third eye just enough to see the clusters of human auras in the dark, unimpeded by physical obstructions. A bit like using infrared goggles, maybe. He also slipped his astral form just slightly loose of his physical body, without actually projecting as he usually did. Just enough so that distances would mean little and the passing of time was barely elastic enough to slow when he exerted his will. Astral projection had been an easy skill to learn, but this...merging, or disconnection…had taken years before Stephen could consistently achieve the proper balance, and then decades before he could fight with his usual competence while his astral form was partially loose of – and still overlapping – its flesh and blood temple.

He had begun learning for the challenge more than anything, and advanced out of sheer stubbornness. It wasn't a form of battle that he used very often, but when circumstances aligned, it was extremely advantageous.

It wasn't long before he saw a blaze of light like a falling star arcing toward the main hall. Stephen mentally scrolled through the information his photographic memory had picked up regarding the program for tonight. Justin Hammer was presenting, but the description submitted had been vague. Something to do with the military and weapons. Drones, perhaps?

Thinking about that grasping, showboating idiot as Vanko's patron was giving Stephen a bad feeling. A worse one. He'd heard ranting stories about Hammer from Tony, and he didn't like the form the imminent threat was beginning to take in his mind.

No time to prepare further. He shifted into a ready stance, hands loose at his sides. The sudden wave of screams gave him a split second warning before Tony crashed through the roof with a fleet of...of Iron Man knockoffs on his tail.

Well, that was horrible, and only going to get worse.

Stephen's hands flowed as he poured magic into the spell, ending with arms spread wide. Power pulsed outward, like a ripple, throughout the entire park. Because his attention was focused on the main stage building, it took only a crook of his fingers to ensure that the falling glass and debris would not fatally injure anyone. It was a subtle spell, and difficult for most to maintain alone for any length of time. It wouldn't vanish the shards, or completely shield the crowd. But it would alter the trajectory and speed of any shrapnel that would cause serious injury or death. A protective spell Stephen had made good use of in the past, as it was virtually unnoticeable in public.

Most of his attention followed Iron Man and his pursuers, mind calculating angles and consequences rapidly. When the bullets began firing, a second ripple shuddered throughout the park, and he leaned into the astral perception of passing time to manipulate the angles of the barrels just enough to ensure that none of the drones would hit anyone in the crowd.

"Get away from the people," Stephen muttered, watching Iron Man bank hard. Tony was doing a good job of keeping away from outdoor crowds, but there had been several close calls with visitors in some of the buildings. The east side garage had been practically destroyed, but Stephen had confirmed that it was empty of all life signs first.

He felt a bit like a conductor, actually, his hands twisting rapidly, feverishly to prevent collateral damage. And then his heart nearly stopped when several enormous metal suits marched from the hall in the midst of a screaming, panicking crowd. He could see the hundreds cut down so clearly in his mind's eye, fragile flesh and blood against projectiles and explosives in their midst.

Stephen had just been drawing up the best defensive strategy while also keeping up with the flock of drones hurtling through the air, when he realized that none of them were paying any attention to anything around them. All of their focus was on Tony, who seemed to be slowly picking them off.

It didn't mean that everyone else was safe, as evidenced by the shoulder cannon that missed and exploded in the distance. They – or the man behind them, to be more precise – cared nothing for collateral, but they weren't going out of their way to aim for the crowd either.

Stephen supposed that was the best he could ask for at this point.

Except…shit. One of the grounded suits was aiming at…quite a small aura. Stephen wasn't close enough to figure out why it was targeting what was probably a small child. He was too horrified to care, fingertips burning with the power of the shield he was about to conjure. Luckily, Iron Man intervened just in time.

"Go away, idiot," he hissed. Thankfully, Tony seemed to have finally found an abandoned area to make a stand. As stray shots petered out and the crowd, much reduced and still evacuating, was at last left unmolested, Stephen brought his awareness back in. He seated himself back in his body fully, and let the spells he'd been running fade into the background.

All that he left in his immediate sphere was the magic he'd used to tag each of the drones. Considering their similarities to the Iron Man armor, Stephen had thought it was best to make sure that none of them could just disappear. Whether the person taking them was another future enemy or a shady government agency.

Plus, call him paranoid, but in his extensive experience anything an enemy left behind was cause for deep suspicion.

Called it, he thought to himself some time later. It was not a good idea to astral project so soon after what he'd just done, keeping his spirit balanced on the edge between physical and metaphysical. He'd created a small portal to retrieve Tony's hand mirror from his bathroom so that he could scry what was happening with him and Vanko. And Rhodes, apparently. Stephen had clenched his jaw until it ached, but he'd stayed out of it and trusted the pair to come out on top.

So he had a front row seat to the alarming, blinking red light on the drones' torsos.

Stephen did a quick search of the area around each of the downed drones. He had no experience disarming any bombs that were not purely magical, and this was no time to experiment. But he could contain the explosions if necessary.

The park seemed fully evacuated, but…that one looked too close to the street, that one too near a parking lot…

And there was one other life left, almost on top of one of the drones. Stephen's heart almost stopped when he realized it was Pepper.

Thankfully, Tony also seemed to realize that she was still there, as Iron Man raced through the sky directly for her. He scooped her up and flew into the night while an explosion chased their heels, the flames slowed down by Stephen's magic. Simultaneously, he dispersed some of the power of the other explosions that were positioned in areas that concerned him.

Then it was done. And unless it was the result of a medical condition, then they had managed to avoid any deaths as well. No doubt people would be calling it a minor miracle.

Stephen slumped back against the wall as he absently dismissed the hand mirror. Power was no problem for him, but precision could be absolutely exhausting. Especially with everything he had just accomplished.

"Everybody lives," he murmured to himself with a huff of laughter. "Just this once. Everybody lives."

Not Vanko. But the innocents. The bystanders. He had done it.

When was the last time he could say he had accomplished something like this?

Stephen choked back a sudden surge of tears. Ridiculous. He was being absolutely ridiculous.

He closed his eyes and breathed. He had nothing that needed to be taken care of immediately. Nowhere he needed to be. He could just…stay here until he felt recovered.

A familiar whine and clanking interrupted his not-quite-meditation.

"Hey, you okay? Hey – oh damn, Strange!"

Stephen winced a little at the crashing, bone-jarring thud of every step the Iron Man armor made as Tony forced it to run.

"Shitshitshit," Tony muttered, yanking at the quick release of his gauntlets and letting them clatter to the ground. It left his hands free to check Strange over for injury. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"

Stephen jerked back. Tony scowled, undeterred, and reached out again to tilt his head back enough that he could check his pupils, and run his fingers through his hair in search of any head trauma.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"You're slumped against a rooftop door overlooking a park that was just attacked and is still exploding!" the billionaire snapped. "What the fuck is someone supposed to think? What the fuck are you even doing here?"

He ran a hand along Stephen's neck and shoulders, and down his chest, sharp eyes searching for any hint of pain or evidence of injury.

Stephen wanted to smack Tony's hands away, but that wasn't a motion his own hands would support at the moment. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. Nothing even touched me. I took cover up here."

Tony looked incredulous. "So, what? When the screaming and shooting started, rather than down and out, your instinct was to head up?"

Stephen didn't care if it made no sense. He was tired, stretched thin, and in no mood for another verbal spar. He doubled down. "I was already up here. And people never look up."

The other man spluttered, fingers flexing like he wanted to strangle the sorcerer. "People never look – Strange, most of them were flying. The first part was almost solely aerial combat."

Stephen tensed, a nagging thought finally connecting. "Right," he said, shaking his head as if that would spark greater awareness. "Right. Sorry. I didn't ask – are you injured? And you were poisoned, has the situation been resolved? Are there side effects that you've noticed?" There were only a few scattered cuts and bruises on Tony's face. The Iron Man armor made it almost impossible to tell if there were further injuries on his body.

Tony groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "Oh my God, you – I'm fine." His attention snapped back down, something wild in his gaze and, exacerbated by the lingering adrenaline still pumping through his system.

Stephen was very familiar with the aftermath of battle, the wild, jittery energy that never ended when the fighting did, like a sugar rush right before the crash.

Tony crowded closer, his presence larger than his stature, and Stephen gathered enough energy to stand up straight, frowning as he tried to understand what was happening. "You. You are impossible. Absolutely infuriating." His hands gripped the front of Stephen's shirt. "Suspicious as hell. Such a pain in the ass."

"Well, you – "

Tony cut him off by yanking him into a kiss.

Stephen froze, mind going blank with shock. This was far from the first time he had been ambushed with a kiss, and he had long since learned to just go with it if the person wasn't an immediate threat. But it was different this time. For a long moment, he remained stiff and unyielding in his surprise.

Tony coaxed him into responding, nipping at softening lips, and humming in pleasure when Stephen began leaning into him. When the sorcerer automatically attempted to regain control, Tony slipped his tongue between parted lips and proceeded to devour him. To overwhelm him with heat as he bit just a little harder and manipulated him just so with a powerful fist grasping his hair.

This was different. This was Tony. Perhaps living as an animal in his household had influenced feelings, but overcome as he was, he felt safe. Protected. Lo – cared for. He could do nothing but submit.

When Tony abruptly broke away, Stephen was too far gone to even notice whine that escaped him.

"You're shaking."

The worried tone broke through some of Stephen's haze, enough that he realized most of his weight was sprawled against the engineer's chest. He was pretty sure the armor was what was keeping them on their feet.

"They do that," he mumbled belatedly.

"No…Strange, your body is shaking," Tony said, arms tightening around his back.

Oh. He was. Because it was Tony. Because he never gave up control, but he'd given up all control to him. And now he was…limp…plastered against his front and trembling.

"I need to go," he choked out.

"Seriously, are you okay? Did you get hit by something after all?"

"No. No, it's just…shock." That was probably too accurate, actually, though not related to the attack. "I have to go."

"Alright. Okay." Tony was running a hand up and down his back, and that soothing sensation was actually making things worse. "Let me give you a ride down, at least."

"Fine," Stephen said with a small nod, forcing his body back under control. He stepped back so that Tony could grab his gauntlets and slip them back on.

"Hold on tight," he said with a shadow of his former showmanship, and swept Stephen up in a bridal carry. The sorcerer threw his arms back around Tony's neck and scowled faintly at the indignity. "Hope you're not afraid of heights."

"Hardly," Stephen scoffed.

In no time at all, Iron Man was setting him back down on the ground. "Wait," the other man said abruptly as Stephen turned to go.

He turned back, lifting a brow in inquiry. His jaw was clenched. He would not fall apart. Not yet.

"At least give me a number or something, so that I can make sure you got home safe."

Stephen pursed his lips, and then sighed. "I don't have a phone," he muttered.

Tony's eyes widened in disbelief. "Don't have a – how the hell can you not have a phone? Who doesn't own a phone?"

The sorcerer rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine," he said, turning to go. His heart felt like it might explode out of his chest, his stomach was twisted up into knots, and he felt a little lightheaded, but at least he'd regained enough control not to look it.

"At least give me your name," Tony said desperately.

Stephen paused.

"Come on, I've had my tongue down your throat," his sharp eyes didn't miss the taller man's slight shiver, "I think we should at least be on a first name basis."

"Ah, Vincent. Call me Vincent," he conceded, before striding away. Anywhere but there. Using 'Stephen' would just be tempting fate further.

"Dr. Vincent Strange," Tony muttered. "I'll be seeing you," he called to Stephen's back. There was promise and determination in his voice.

It wasn't a good idea. But Stephen had no doubt that Tony spoke the truth.


I was a little uncertain about having the first kiss in this scene, since I didn't want it to seem like Stephen was just a replacement for Pepper. But the timing seemed right, and I was a little impatient to finally get to the ironstrange. I hope this worked as well as I thought it would!