When I said this story was slow burn... I meant it. There is going to be a LOT of fluff on the way: I hope you will enjoy all of the cuteness I have got lined up for them! :)

I mean no copyright infringement.

TapTap

"Eh, excuse me?" Christine smiled slightly as the girl at the kitchen table looked up, and promptly smiled back.

"Hi, doctor Palmer. Did you need anything?" The younger woman smiled kindly. Christine noted she was very fair, about awerage hight and something of a beauty though she wasn't making a fuss of it with the way she was dressed and kept her mid-back length hair.

"Well, I thought Stephen should eat something. Is there..." before she could finish her question, the girl had risen and lifted several generous soup-ladels of broth into a bowl which was already on the kitchen workbench.

As Christine went silent silent, the girl said softly "Of course. Will you stay and eat with us, too?"

"Oh, there is no need to..." Christine shrugged half-awkwardly, feeling like she was really imposing in this situation. Stephen seemed content that she was there, but she hadn't exactly been invited. Not really.

"It is no trouble." The younger woman smiled widely, preparing another bowl of soup, adding several spoonfulls of fried vegetables into Christine's helping.

"Thank you," the doctor noted warmly, giving in, before she returned to Stephen with the bowls. She was grateful someone so thoughtful had been here to look after him.

She ended up staying through the entire evening, Stephen spending a large amount of time dozing still. Christine liked the slight personality change in him, more obvious than ever in this vulnerable state. He had used to be so sharp and defensive, and if he considered himself at a disadvantage of any sort, even more so.

The lash-out just before he left - she now knew to Kamar-Taj - had been by far the worst, but it was not the only one. Now, the difference accentuated brutally in her mind. He was ill, but this time he could accept the care gracefully. Earlier, even during their relationship - such as it was - he had been very testy in all such situations. Now, he dozed peacefully while she ran her fingers through his soft hair and chatted to his cloak.

Elice had brought them a simple boardgame, and Christine giggled to herself as the cloak beat her repeatedly at it. She did not notice Stephen having awakened and was watching her, as the cloak floated closer and started to wrap itself around her arm. "You are a fabric boa constrictor, aren't you?" she asked it in a low voice, patting the fabric with her other hand and wondering out loud, "Should I be worried about you doing that?"

"No," she looked up and saw Stephen smiling at her, eyes with a softer look than she had ever seen in his sharp gaze before. "It is a boa constrictor... but it won't eat you. It likes you. It does it to me all the time, and it has never hurt me yet." The collar of the cloak bobbed up and down at this statement, as if agreeing.

Christine smiled at it, before turning back to Stephen. He looked a little better. "How do you feel?"

He shrugged softly and yawned, even though he had just awokened. "I will be fine. I am just tired."

"Do you want me to leave?" She watched his face carefully, so she could pick up on the faintest emotion when he responded.

"Oh, you must be tired. Leave if you want - but you are more than welcome to stay." She could see that he meant it. It made her feel warmer inside, and she couldn't hold back a smile.

"I will stay a while longer," she promised, running a hand across his forehead and shifting the hair away. She noted with satisfaction that he closed his eyes with a slight sigh under her touch. Maybe, there really was as much hope as she imagined there to be.

"Maybe, when you're feeling better, you'd be happy to consult for me again. We could use your expertise, even if you cannot cut anymore," she suggested, the next time he woke enough to speak. She was getting slaughtered in another board game by the cloak, started while he slept.

Stephen smiled in response. "I can, actually. Cut, I mean," he waited patiently while Christine studied his shaking hands, puzzled. When she next looked at his face, he explained. "I can use magic to steady my hands despite the nerve damage, if needed."

She frowned as she processed that. "Why aren't you now? Because you're ill?"

He shook his head. "I do not need to, not to make magic. I am a sorcerer now, not just a doctor. I prefer to use my magic for higher causes than my own vanity... but I could step inside the OR as a surgeon again, if you ever have need of me."

Christine merely stared at him for long enough to make him smirk, baffled. Stephen could give this all up, be famous again, and he chose not to. She knew that he had changed, but this level of maturity she had absolutely not expected. It was a whisp of the responsibility she had always been able to sense deep down in him, one of the reasons she first fell in love with him, and she had to stop herself from kissing him right there and then. He was ill, after all, and it was too soon anyway. But someday... someday she'd like to kiss him again.

Stroking his hair as he drifted back off to sleep yet again, she could only hope that maybe, eventually, Stephen wanted that too. The cloak settled over the both of them, as Christine watched his hands, not daring to touch them even though he slept. He had learnt so much, become the best parts of himself, maybe he had made peace with this as well? It certainly sounded like it. Christine was grateful that he slept, and for his compassionate fabric companion, as it wiped her tears when she finally cried for all that had happened, all it had costed them, and perhaps, all the hope she could finally sense.