Look at that, I'm early! Probably because I went all out on the fluff with this one... (and my muses likes that!)
I still do not own Marvel
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The Cloak was wrapped warmly around its mortal. It had known full well that its Sorcerer had been actively seeking to distract it, as Elice attempted to leave to school. It also did understand that it couldn't really follow her, however, and the chance to get to play with its favourite human was very tempting.
So it gave the young sorcerer a last squeeze for the time being and flew off, joining Stepen and the dominoes on the carpet.
It did not often get to play with Stephen, but he attempted it - the times they did play - the way he went about anything. With skill, determination and - these days - plenty of humor. As pretty much everything went when they were together, the cloak soon found itself on its mortal's shoulders, peeking across the man at their dominoes as they gave up playing to instead build a domino fort out of the pieces.
The cloak kept ruining it by knocking over the pieces - by accident, only, of course - but Stephen was not much better. In the end, they left the still domino-scattered carpet behind, deciding to return to their quest when the girls were back to help them. They had no doubt Elice could build a truly magnificent castle out of dominoes, and Stephen at least looked forward to watching Christine help her.
The cloak knew that its favourite sorcerer was being broody, and so did, it could tell, Stephen himself. If it could have spoken, as they settled on a different carpet with a different game - because Stephen was nothing but a man of his word, even when said word had been given through actions (actually especially then) - it would have assured him how it was only the most natural thing in the world, with a baby on its way. The cloak guessed that he already knew, anyway.
The cloak considered Stephen far more maternal than it did Christine, though it did in its thoughts submit to the human fashion of genders and call it "paternal" for itself, even though the cloak did not really see any difference.
When Elice and Christine eventually came home together - Christine might not technically live there, but the cloak wasn't fooled, this was her home too - man and cloak were cuddled together on the setteé in front of the fire, both sound asleep. Or at least, both women were wise enough to recognise the cloak's state as the nearest equivalent it had.
As they ventured closer, Elice running a hand across the fabric in greeting, while Christine did much the same with Stephen's now increasingly longish hair, the cloak woke enough to state it sleepily for itself. This was what family was supposed to be like. It had missed it, through the long years in the artifact hall.
It had everything it wanted, right here and now.