A string of curses and shouting woke me from slumber, the darkness melting away to shine the morning light in my face. Silence, then a loud crash, followed by another curse. I groaned and pulled myself out of bed and out into the living room. No one was there.
"Reid?" I called out. Where was my lovely roommate? I made my way to the basement door of the house, which happened to be wide open. I stepped down to the first step, when the lights flickered and dark tendrils floated to the railings, gentle and kind, snapping into something wild and menacing. They slammed down below, fast, and powerful, uncontrolled; the crash that sounded had me teleporting to the source in panic. What I found-who I found rather-almost made me laugh.
Reid laid flat on his back, the air rushed out of him, dark shadows pinning him down.
"Do you require some assistance?" I asked.
"No laughing. Please get them off me," he answered, with a flick of my wrist, the shadows vanished allowing him to get up.
"Training again? What are you trying to perfect or improve?"
"Trapping an enemy with the tendrils, but they keep hitting me. I want to pull them down slowly, but quick. It seems they only want to attack hard. I…"
"You don't want to hurt anyone. Trap them to get the authorities to arrest them. It's a hard technique. Doesn't always comply. Take your stance," I said. He stood defensively, too defensively.
"No, not like that. Like this. Relax the shoulders, feet closer together. Hold your hands out, palms up. Close your eyes. Breath. Now conjure it," I coached him. The rooms grew dark, the tendrils coiling, swaying.
"Good. Open your eyes slowly. Breathe slow. Push out your hands. Slow. Yes, great, and now snap your hand closed and pull hard," I continued. The tendrils shot out and wrapped around the training dummy, shoving the ends into the ground, keeping it in place.
"That's good. Again," We worked this technique for 30 minutes, allowing Reid to get a handle on it and work to his style of movement. We trained often to make sure he still had control over the darkness and the electrical output that came with it. Over the years, we'd been on several jobs together, capturing individuals who needed to be stopped, helping other who couldn't use the ability; we even teamed up with the Avengers to take out a common enemy.
These jobs came with money; enough to purchase a house outside the city and with some help from Tony Stark, we were able to train properly. The house came with basement that we turned into a training room. I taught him what I could but left him to create movements that were unique and worked better with how he did things. He felt grateful for my help and soon we became close. Not in a romantic way; a brother and sister kind of a relationship.
"Why don't you ever date?" he asked me a few months ago.
"Not everyone wants a monster. I've tried before, but once they learned of what I can do, most tend to run," I replied.
"You're not a monster," he assured me. He had been reading the paper and a specific article caught his eyes.
"Hey, would you look at this? Dr. Stephen Strange was in a horrible car accident. It looks like he damaged his hands a whole lot. It says he may not be able to continue being a surgeon," he told me. My ears perked up. The name sounded familiar. I peered over at the article. Dr. Strange's face met my eyes and then I remembered why.
"He helped out during the battle of New York. Apparently, he had been doing surgery a few blocks away from the fight. World renowned. That's a shame. He's been pretty good at his job," I said. I hadn't realized how important he would be until a month later.
Cut to present time. Reid and I were exhausted and hungry. I offered to pick up breakfast at my favorite bistro in downtown Manhattan. They had everything from pastries to bagels to breakfast sandwiches.
"I'll also grab some coffee. I'll be back in a few minutes,"
"Take your time. No rush. I know you like to have some quiet time to yourself," Reid told me. I smiled and quickly dressed before leaving the house. I cloaked myself in my darkness and pulled my body to where I wanted to be. I landed a few feet away from the shop itself; I was surprised to see a long line that extended out a few feet away.
"This is unusual. It's busier today. I wonder if they're a little slower now," I whispered to myself. No matter, I decided and got in line anyway. Ten minutes later and the line still hadn't moved. Time to ask what's going on.
"Excuse me. Do you know if they're having any problems with the machines or if they're training new staff?" I asked the couple in front of me.
"No, it's not them. It's that doctor, or former doctor. He's can't pay and he's begging them to help them. I think it's about to turn into an argument," the guy responded.
"Doctor? What doctor?"
"Stephen Strange. I hear his hands were destroyed in that accident. Rumor is that they're horribly disfigured," his girlfriend snapped. Stephen Strange is here. Interesting. I nodded and headed around back. Having become a regular customer and having helped with one barista who had trouble with the dark shadows, they would let me cut in line some days. In this case, I was hoping they would let me by this time, especially when I had an idea to help with Strange.
"Halle? Hi. Do you think it'll be all right if I squeeze through?" I greeted my regular barista.
"You can try. Dr. Strange is still having trouble with payment. I've never seen hands shake so much before," she told me.
"Thanks. I think I'll be able to handle him and get this line moving," I moved to the front of the line and heard the commotion from both the cashier behind the bar and the guy at the counter arguing. Strange's appearance astounded me. He was no longer the clean-shaven doctor from a few months ago. Instead, he sported a full scraggly beard, his hair longer and unkempt. I looked down to his hands, the scars visible and inflamed. The tremors weren't too bad but wouldn't be as steady for a neurosurgeon; the damage was done.
"Please, I don't have much, but I can try to find more…" he said, panic laced in his voice. I needed to interfere, to help him as best as I could. Plus, I held some empathy for him. An idea came to my mind, and I only hoped he would go along with it.
"Hi, honey. Sorry to keep you waiting. The traffic was insane. What did you want for breakfast? I'm starving. Oh, hello Joey. My usual and whatever he wants. I also need one of those gigantic cinnamon rolls for my roommate. I'll be back up here in a little while for his iced coffee," I stated. I wrapped an arm around Strange's waist, startling him. He turned to face me, and I fueled the shock by kissing him on the lips. He either had figured out my plan or the shock was too much for him because he kissed me back, electricity shooting through me, the darkness humming in approval as he did so.
"I'll buy this time. Don't worry about paying me back," I continued.
"So…the egg and cheese sandwich and a large black coffee for him?" Joey asked me. I nodded and then chose a cinnamon swirl cake as an add on. I pulled out some cash, leaving a top and turned back to Strange, who still appeared in shock. I flashed him a smile, which he half returned.
"Are you two dating? I didn't know that you were seeing anyone," Joey said, preparing our order.
"That's because we're married. We had to keep our relationship on the down low. Too many enemies or people wanting to jump our bones," I countered. To Stephen I said, "Go find us a seat, sweetie. I'll be right there," He nodded and headed to one by the window. I grabbed the plates of food and the bag with Reid's cinnamon roll and put them down on the table before returning for the cups of coffee. I winked at Joey and joined Strange for the meal. The line moved and orders went smoothly and faster as customers breathed a sigh of relief. Patience really has become a virtue.
"You didn't need to that," Strange greeted me.
"Oh, but I did. You were holding up the line. Don't worry. It's not entirely your fault. I understand you put all your money in trying to fix your hands," I told him.
"I…that's right. Here's a question for you. Why say we're married? You could have easily said we were friends. I don't even know your name,"
"Lucy Sebastian. Well, now that I've said we are husband and wife, I guess it would be Lucy Strange. That kiss was wonderful, don't you think?" I introduced myself. He arched an eyebrow.
"Um…I enjoyed it for what it was. You still didn't answer my question. Why pretend we're married?"
"Hmm. Let me think. Probably because that's the first idea that popped into my mind and I decided to go with it. I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's not like we will see each other again. Though I am a little worried the papers will have a field day with it now. I'm sure it'll be fine though," I responded.
"Oh…are you planning on leaving New York or the country? What…What if I…" Strange was cut off by Reid bursting into the coffee shop, panic etched onto his features.
"Lucy, we've got to go. A call came in. It's another…oh, hello. I didn't know you had company," he said.
"Stephen Strange, Reid Granger. Reid, Stephen Strange. Guess this is my cue to leave. I don't plan on leaving New York any time soon, but it's a big state with enormous cities and our circles don't exactly collide. It was lovely to meet you Doctor Strange," I said, standing up I was about to head out with Reid when Stephen grabbed my wrist. Once again, the darkness within me stirred with approval.
"Wait, please. We can trade numbers. Maybe I can call you. We can meet up sometime. If you want. I would love to get to know the woman who pretended to be married to me," he said.
"Lucy, we really need to get going," Reid begged. I sighed and quickly grabbed a napkin and asked a barista for a pen. I scrawled down my number and gave it to Strange, while he wrote down his and handed it to me.
"My schedule is pretty packed, so no guarantees, but if you feel the need to contact me, please do. Stay safe, Stephen," I told him. Pausing for another minute, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, cupping his jaw with one hand, the other caressing one of his hands; I don't know why, but it made him smile.
"Until next time," he told me. I nodded and ran out of the door. Unknown to us, we didn't expect next time to be so soon.