Stephen Strange likes dancing. He has always liked it but as time passed he left behind a few choice types.
As a teenager he used to dance with his sister all day long. They knew many dances but Cha Cha Cha was their favourite. It was their dance. The cheeky and playful moves between the siblings were cause of many fond looks from their parents. It wasn’t to last however. Their frolicking ended when Stephen became careless, when he killed Donna. That was the day Stephen Strange stopped swimming and the lively dance that had become a part of his daily routine. He nearly stopped dancing altogether but something in him sought comfort in twirls and sways and he let it.
The next decade brought Christine Palmer, Rumba and Foxtrot. She was a godsend for Stephen who had lost nearly all compassion and faith. She liked to talk to him when they danced so smooth, progressive Foxtrot it was. Sometimes however, in galas mainly, they indulged Rumba. The sophisticated yet simple dance just right for them. Eventually he proved to be too arrogant, simply too much even for sweet and kind Christine, they broke up but on rare occasions still danced. It was bittersweet yet it was something unlike when he completely obliterated any and all chances with his vile words. When she closed the door it felt like she had taken his Rumba and Foxtrot moves with her.
Seeking a cure lead him to the Mystic Arts, The Ancient One and the Cham Dance. She took him to Tibet during the Monlam Prayer Festival. The lively masked and costumed dance was accompanied by music played by the monks on traditional musical instruments. It was associated with Buddhism in some form not that he would understand. He enjoyed watching the sacred performance. After his mentor’s death, Tibetan monasteries and dances became taboo for the new Sorcerer Supreme of Earth.
His duties and oath to protect reality as a whole took him to Tony Stark, fourteen million six hundred five lives he would rather forget yet remembers, unbidden, unrequited, crushing love, a wedding invitation and waltz. Tony Stark can dance but he can’t waltz. Someone tells him Stephen can. The stubborn man persists and Stephen finally gives in. Stark tells him how he wants the wedding to be perfect like his fiancé is, how much he loves her and wishes that Strange too finds a love like his. What Stark doesn’t see is the grief in Stephen’s eyes mourning a love that never was yet still is, doesn’t see the melancholy in the small smile and the way he yearns for him. Stark doesn’t know that he forced the man Stephen longs for into his arms only to force the poor man to watch him hold the one he truly loves in his own. The stately, elegant and beautiful dance is fitting for the power couple in the wedding of the century. Stephen buries his sorrow and his secret deep in his heart and smiles and congratulates the couple. Wong knows though. He somehow always knows. And with a small squeeze of his shoulder as the only comfort he has, Stephen falls into bed weeping, shedding silent tears for his loss. It wouldn’t do for the novices to hear the pathetic, wanton cries of their leader.
Later when Christine asks him for a dance, he doesn’t know what to do. His feet haven’t danced since he danced with Tony Stark and Stephen thinks that Tony took his dance and his heart from him.
Stephen Strange isn’t sure he likes dancing anymore.