And look at that, a Christine!

Also, the name Elice is pronounced with an initial "Ell" sound like in "Ellie". Hence it is pronounced Elliss, much like an E-version of the name Alice! In case anyone is interested...

I mean no copyright infringement.

TapTap

Christine felt decidedly foolish as she rang the doorbell. She wondered if she had the right address - this place was enormous, certainly for a New York property, and decidedly archaic. She was even more doubtful when the door was opened by a sweet-looking, decidedly young woman, but changed her mind to see that she wore those peculiar cult clothes. Before Christine could speak though, the younger woman did so, stepping aside to let her in. "Good afternoon, Doctor Palmer. Do come in."

Stepping inside, Christine took a moment to balk at the enormous, old-fashion but elegant space, and then asked. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, I recognised you," the girl told her with a slight smile. "Stephen keeps photographs on the mantelpiece in his study. Of friends. Yours is the only picture of someone I don't know," she suddenly grinned, adding, "you know, from the 'cult'".

"Oh, so you're from...?" Christine coughed, not knowing what to say. It was one thing to banter with Stephen, but she did not know this girl or what she might take offense at.

"Yes, I am a cult member. I dropped out of school and left to try and find myself," the girl breezed through the information as if it was of little importance, "come with me, I'll take you to him."

"Stuck in a project?" Christine guessed, trying to joke somewhat, and Stephen could be a bit obsessed with whatever he got up to, really. That bit didn't seem to have changed.

"No, well, normally he'd be in his library at this time, but he is in his bedroom," she stated easily, and Christine took another look at her at the extremely casual mention. Obviously, she knew he was in there, it was not a guess, so she had to have been in Stephen's bedroom, and that was a normal... oh. Christine was surprised at how painful that sudden insight was, on several levels.

She knew with certainty, then, that she had still held out hope. For them, for that they could make another go at being them, and make it all work out this time. Besides that, Stephen had always, even through his arrogance and plenty of other downsides, been not only very clever but surprisingly easy to respect. And the Stephen she knew was not the type to have a brainwashed twenty-year-old as a girlfriend. She thought he was better than that. That she knew him better than that. In fact, up until that very moment, she would not have even considered it.

"Here you go," the girl's voice suddenly broke Christine out of her bleak thoughts. At her hesitant look at the door, the girl laughed, a clear and light sound. "Don't worry, he's been up for hours. Just go on right in," she opened the door, announcing in a teasing tone, "Crimson, you've got a visitor! Is he awake, you think?" Then with a wink, she left - leaving Christine with no other choise than to enter.

She didn't know what she expected, but it was not what she found upon entering. Covered by his red cloak, Stephen was lying in bed, propped up on pillows, and she did not need to be a doctor to see that he had been unwell. As it was, she knew that just from a brief look at him.

"Christine!" He put a mark in the heavy tome he was propping up against his knees and smiled at her. Coming further into the room, she noted the waterglass on the bedside table and other small signs of someone taking good care of him.

"Hi. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were unwell," she apologised.

He shrugged. "It is alright. My cloak sounded the alarm, so to speak, so they came and checked up on me. Another Master left Elice here with me. Prudent really - delegate the magical novice with a partial medical degree to check up on the Master of a Sanctum who is unwell. We can get through to each other easily, Kamar-Taj and the Sanctums, so it is simple..." he coughed slightly, but did not speak again, apparently realising that he was babbling.

Christine felt a sudden relief as the pieces slowly fitted into place. "She doesn't normally live here, then, with you?"

He shook his head. "No, she studies magic in Kamar-Taj. I am trying to convince her to come here - to New York - though, and continue her medical training. With some tutoring, I am certain she will be a great surgeon someday."

"Oh," Christine could feel herself blushing. Of course Stephen wasn't taking advantage. His interest was clearly of an entirely different, intellectual, kind. The young woman was only speaking of his bedroom in such a knowing and casual manner because he was ill, and of course she was looking in on him every few hours if he had been so sick that someone else had had to call for help. "I am glad you're better," was all she could think of to say. Shrugging, as if to say it was of no consequence, he patted the bed beside him in invitation. "If it is a bad time..."

"No, not at all. I am not infective any longer and besides, you are always welcome here, Christine." The way he said her name, like a prayer, made her gut clench, but not in an entirely unpleasant manner.

"I am glad I came to check up on you," she admitted, reaching out and feeling his forehead "and that you haven't been alone." She paused, after touching him, expecting him to lash out with a lecture or at the very least annoyance, but his only reaction was leaning into her hand with a slight sigh, closing his eyes. Not even realising that she was smiling tenderly, she brushed his soft, dark hair away, just looking out for him.