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Not mine, only the fluff belongs to me.
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It took about three months. Three months after Christine first brought Stephen back into the operating theatre, before the medical society caught wind of it. There was some formalia - all of which Stephen got through effortlessly - and there was a renewed trend to ask him to hold lectures and provide expert consultations.
Medical professors and doctors seeking his advice per telephone or email got prompt responses, and those previously familiar with the man expressed quiet astonishment to trusted colleagues about the changes they saw in the man. Where Doctor Strange had been known for his high-handed, stroppy, know-it-all behaviour (no matter how well deserved), this new man, with the same voice and as thorough expertise was humorous and even sort of humble, if somewhat haughty still.
Never one for dressing up as something he wasn't, but always one for the fine things in life, Christine had had to smile as Stephen showed up for medical conferences wearing blue robes and his darling cloak (which she took care to pet when no one saw), unaffected by every strange look thrown his way. It felt odd, through, when she agreed to be his date to his first official medical talk since the injury, about six months after he returned, and he showed up on her doorstep to pick her up wearing a sleek, black suit. It still suited him so well, but she'd become accustomed to seeing him in "cult" fashion. Blue, that is, and robes. She found it even stranger how she found that view, once so common, so odd. Blue robes and a wonderfully expressive cloak are not what one expects to view as the norm, normally.
It was at the third or fourth talk, talks which she kept on accompanying him to as he was such a pleasant date these days, attentive to her instead of his ego and far less arrogant, that Tony Stark showed up. The room grew quiet as the billionaire engineer approached the medical lagend - both having quite well-documented egos. A lot of the spectators likely anticipated quite the showdown. Christine did so herself, bracing herself for when Stephen would notice Stark. And then he did.
It did not play out as Christine thought it would. At one moment, she was standing to one side of the room with Stephen; he in his dark suit, she in her sparkling blue ballgown. Tony Stark was walking confidently through a gap which was opening magically through the throng of people like the sea for Moses, while Stephen was sipping champagne and talking to someone else, his hands trembling only slightly.
The next moment, Stephen turned his head and saw the legendary engineer, lovering his hand and turning, bringing Christine with him gently in the movement with the hand he had around her waist. Another second, and Stephen had let her go to let himself get engulfed in the bearhug of the century, his face lit by a smile. "Tony! Everything worked out alright, I trust?"
"Fabulously! And you still have such great facial hair, I see!" Tony Stark was grinning warmly, his tone relaxed and hearty.
"Well, someone had to rescue the style," Stephen bantered back, shocking Christine even more. Since when did Stephen banter with anybody but the cloak? (Well, or Wong, but neither man would ever own up to it being banter.)
"Touché," Stark allowed. Turning to her, he smiled and took her hand to kiss, asking, "And who is your lovely date?"
Stephen rolled his eyes in response and reclaimed his grasp around Christine's waist, mumbling so softly it almost became a threat. "Do not even think about it, Stark. I know how to kill you and make it look like an accident."
Bending slightly towards Christine, Tony whispered his reply to her. "That is true, you know. I bet he could." Then he smiled and - from one second to the next - made himself scarce, disappearing back into the readily parting crowd just like he'd come, leaving a smiling Stephen and a surprised mass in his trail.
Still, Christine reflected, sitting on a banister in the sanctum and watching the Sorcerer's unconcious body, hoping he would stop projecting and come back sooner rather than later, as she had some CT scans to show him. It was not even half as odd as the medical engineering conference they had attended together where he had, seemingly without reason, struck up a conversation with the infamous Doctor Bruce Banner, the legendarily elusive man who'd somehow thought it entirely normal to offer Stephen a handshake and a smile.
Sometimes, she reflected, as Stephen's eyes slowly flickered open, she wondered quite how extensive Stephen's secret life still was. Even though he never intentionally thought to keep anything a secret from her, as far ask she knew anyway. How much of his life was she always going to miss, simply for not belonging in his world? She rather thought it was a lot, but she also granted, privately, that it did not bother her that she didn't understand it all: not as long as nothing was kept secret by intent, and she believed him when he told her he never did.