Chapter 6
Tony Stark was a cat.
Tony Stark was also a man who used to run on a steady diet of caffeine, sarcasm, and bad decisions.
Which was why, despite his current feline predicament, he desperately wanted coffee.
The problem?
Stephen Strange was hoarding it.
And Tony, tragically lacking opposable thumbs, needed an accomplice.
He lifted his head from where he was sprawled across the Sanctum’s rug and thought very hard at the Cloak of Levitation.
“Hey, partner in crime. I need a favor.”
The Cloak wiggled in interest.
“I need coffee. Get me coffee.”
The Cloak twitched, then slowly turned toward Stephen, who was currently standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a fresh cup.
Tony flicked his tail impatiently. C’mon, do your thing.
The Cloak zipped toward Stephen, snatched the coffee pot mid-pour, and bolted.
Stephen made a strangled sound of outrage. “Excuse me?!”
The Cloak soared across the room, stopping only when it hovered over Tony, coffee pot in tow.
Tony’s eyes gleamed. Perfect.
The Cloak, still somehow understanding his absurdly specific desires, tipped the pot just enough to pour some coffee into a shallow dish.
Tony dipped his paw into it and licked the caffeine-laced liquid, purring in satisfaction. Oh, yeah. That’s the good stuff.
Stephen, meanwhile, had marched across the room, staring in sheer disbelief.
“…Did you just steal my coffee for the cat?”
The Cloak wiggled proudly.
Stephen looked from the Cloak to Tony, then back again. “No. Nope. Absolutely not. That’s my coffee.”
Tony, completely ignoring him, kept licking at his stolen beverage.
Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe this. I cannot believe this.”
Wong chose that exact moment to walk by, took one look at the situation, and simply kept walking.
Stephen exhaled sharply, then crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the Cloak. “How?”
The Cloak tilted as if confused.
“How do you understand him?” Stephen gestured at Tony, who was now contentedly lounging next to his coffee dish. “Because I know for a fact that’s not normal.”
The Cloak just hovered there, unbothered.
Stephen’s eye twitched. “Is he telepathic? Is it some kind of magical bond? Is it just me who can’t understand him?”
The Cloak gave the magical equivalent of a shrug.
Stephen groaned. “Of course. Of course I’d end up in a situation where I’m the only one not in on the joke.”
Tony let out a smug little mrrp and went back to his coffee.
Stephen rubbed his temples. “I hate this cat.”
The Cloak curled protectively around Tony, like an overprotective older sibling.
Stephen sighed. “I hate both of you.”
Tony flicked his tail, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
This was the best day of his cat life.