It's A Date
***
THE NEW YORK SANCTORUM – PRIVATE QUARTERS - BEDROOM
The canopy of the king-sized four-poster bed that dominated the room was gold with intricate patterns embroidered in burgundy. The rest of the room reflected the same colour scheme, with the walls painted a warm burgundy, while gold highlighted the doorframes and skirting boards.
The room was currently bathed in a soft glow that came from a number of light fixtures strategically fixed around the room. The intention, to offer a sense of peace and tranquillity.
It was a sentiment Stephen Strange was feeling anything but as he stood before the full-length mirror, checking his appearance with a critical eye.
It had been awhile since he’d been on a date, a real date, a proper date. Not one that was tacked on as part of a speaking engagement that he’d been asked to attend.
He wanted to make a good impression.
The irony was not lost on him. Formally as one of New York’s, if not the world’s top neurosurgeons, his arrogance had ensured that his life had become one of excess, with his money spent the moment he earned it. As a result his personal life became more and more meaningless as he chased the next accolade, the next interview, the next as yet untried procedure.
Then he’d had the devastating car accident that had destroyed his hands, and therefore his ability to continue in the field that had made his name. But fate had stepped in, leading him in a completely unforeseen direction.
Now he was the Sorcerer Supreme defender of the Earth, a role he had become adept and confidant performing.
But as he gazed into the mirror, the man reflected there, in his expensive black Armani tuxedo and bowtie, that confidence was lacking.
The Cloak of Levitation sensing his anxiety did its best to assist him as he put the finishing touches to his ensemble, a white rose in a buttonhole. But then its help became a hindrance as it began to fiddle with his fringe.
“Enough!” Stephen snapped irritably, brushing it out of the way.
The cloak immediately moved back.
Picking up his sling-ring, Stephen opened a dimensional gateway that led straight to the outside of Molly’s flat. As he made to leap through, the Sorcerer Supreme gave one final order to the relic.
“Stay.”
The cloak did as instructed, moving to sulk dejectedly in the corner.
***
MOLLY’S FLAT – LONDON
No sooner had he knocked on the door than it was opened, to reveal a vision that took Stephen’s breath away.
As a pathologist, Molly’s attire was one of practicality: white lab coat, flat shoes, and her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. When not at work she tended to favour baggy clothes that were either brightly coloured, or patterned with flowers or kittens. It was as though she was determined to hide or deny her femininity.
That was clearly not the case today, for which Stephen was truly grateful.
Today her petite figure was proudly on display, accentuated by the sleeveless, figure-hugging satin knee-length cocktail dress she wore. The love-heart neckline enhanced the gentle swell of her breast. Her hair was pulled back in a French plait, while her height had been given a subtle lift thanks to the aid of four-inch heels.
Stephen was enraptured.
With a shy giggle Molly asked playfully. “Are you coming in, or do you intend to stand out there all day?”
*
It was only once Molly had closed the door that Stephen picked up on her mild anxiety over her appearance. Capturing her capable hands in his much larger ones, he noted reverently. “You are beautiful, Molly Hooper.”
Molly’s cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink, as she bestowed him with a smile that could have lit up the room. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she responded in kind, before asking curiously. “So, where are we going?”
Letting go of one of her hands, Stephen reached inside his jacket pocket to retrieve his sling-ring.
***
THE NEW YORK SANCTUM – PRIVATE QUARTERS - DINING ROOM
The room they emerged into was a very grand affair. Dominated by a long dining table that was nearly as long as the room itself. Two high-backed chairs had been placed at either end of the table, where places had been set for a three-course meal.
Hanging from the ceiling was an enormous chandelier. The light it gave off was enough to ensure that the room was brightly lit.
Even though the walls were painted a rich brown, the doorframes, skirting boards excreta like the bedroom were painted gold, which helped bring warmth to the room.
Hovering at the far end of the table was the Cloak of Levitation. As Molly approached, it graciously moved her chair back so that she could sit.
Glancing over at Stephen who had taken his place at the other end of the table, Molly chuckled at his annoyed expression.
“I told you,” Stephen addressed the cloak through gritted teeth. “This was to be a romantic dinner, not a banquet.” With a graceful wave of his hand the Sorcerer Supreme transformed the room from extravagant, to cosy.
Though the colour scheme remained, the mood had gone from impersonal to intimate. They were now sat at a small, circular table, with the only light coming from the three candles in an antique candelabrum in the centre of the table.
Satisfied, Stephen indicated to the cloak that the serving of the meal could now commence.
*
During the first course their conversation centred on their medical backgrounds. But though Stephen easily regaled Molly with stories concerning the numerous medical breakthroughs he had accomplished, Molly was more reticent about going into any great detail of her profession.
Stephen observed her with kind eyes, immediately understanding her reluctance. “Discussion of dead bodies, their causes or the means of those deaths doesn’t faze me in the slightest, Molly,” he assured her. “I am a Doctor after all...”
*
The second course was spent with Stephen telling Molly of his many adventures since becoming the Sorcerer Supreme.
In return Molly talked about some of the cases she’d been involved with helping New Scotland Yard, and the world’s only Consulting Detective, Sherlock Holmes.
*
By the time dessert arrived Molly was curious about the relics like the Cloak of Levitation.
“So,” she asked as she observed the cloak. “What is the Cloak of Levitation’s purpose? Besides making you look exceedingly dashing.”
The Cloak of Levitation stood a little straighter at the praise.
Stephen rolled his eyes at the now preening relic.
“Some magic is too powerful to sustain, so we imbue objects with it, allowing them to take the strain we cannot.”
Molly watched Stephen’s expression change, taking note of the frown that now marred his brow and the deep sadness in his eyes as he silently reflected on the all too recent past.
Stephen sat in silent contemplation. The word’s he’d just spoken triggering a painful memory. He had regarded Mordo as a mentor, and a friend. His betrayal of all that they believed in still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
**
KARMAR-TAJ
“What’s that?” Stephen asked, indicating the object in Mordo’s hand.
Mordo used the object to point at Stephen as he responded. “That’s a question.”
There was a brief moment of levity as both men grinned at each other. But then Mordo was once again all business as he explained the purpose of relics. “Some magic is too powerful to sustain, so we imbue objects with it, allowing them to take the strain we cannot.”
**
THE NEW YORK SANCTUM – DINING ROOM
It was clear that whatever the events Stephen was reliving were painful, and although Molly was unwilling to press him, confident he would tell her in his own time, she nonetheless felt the need to distract him.
“Stephen?”
The sound of Molly’s voice was enough to bring him back to the present. Determined to erase such unwelcome memories, Stephen got to his feet, before offering Molly his hand.
“I think we should have our coffee in a more comfortable setting, don’t you?” he suggested.
“That would be lovely,” Molly replied.
*
PRIVATE QUARTERS FOYER
From the dining room they made their way to the foyer of the living quarters. It was a wide, open area, painted a rich garden green that made the foyer lively and bright.
As they made their way up a flight of stairs, Molly paused every now and then to admire the paintings on the wall.
*
LIVING ROOM
They passed through the two large glass doors at the top of the stairs to the living room. The dark blue of the room, softened with the aid of several lamps, whose glow made the room more warm and inviting.
The wooden floor was edged in dark green, while within it was embossed with large square tiles in a simple, yet intricate pattern. Within the pale outer border was another, smaller square in brown. It was intersected by another square at a ninety-degree angle in orange. Within the area where the two squares intersected were eight triangles, alternating brown and orange. The design resembled the blades of an electric fan spinning around. The only floor covering came in the form of the large burgundy-coloured rug before the ornate black fireplace.
As she made her way into the room, Molly saw that to the left there was an arch-shaped doorway with a curved ascending stairway. There were a number of portraits on the curved walls, that she assumed were of the previous tenants. The stairway was also in blue, though of a slightly lighter hue.
In the corner between the main doorway and the archway was a circular wooden table, with two padded chairs on either side. On the wall nearest the archway were four drawings of Karmar Taj, while the other wall had one painting of a country scene with rows of trees.
On the other side of the room there was yet another arched doorway, where she observed a descending curved staircase. The rich burnished orange colour scheme was the only detail she could make out as Stephen led her over to the chairs by the fireplace.
Molly slipped off her high-heels and curled herself up in the comfy chair. “So where does that lead?” she asked, indicating the ascending curved staircase behind her.
“To my bedroom,” Stephen responded.
“And that one?” this time indicating the descending curved staircase leading off from the other side of the room.
“That leads to the guest’s quarters, should you…”
Molly got up, walking in stockinged feet to where Stephen sat. Leaning forward, she placed her hands lightly on his shoulders and looked him directly in the eye. “And if I don’t feel so inclined?” she asked. “What then?”
Stephen closed his eyes, releasing the breath he’d been holding. When his eyes opened again, the relief he felt was plain to see.
“Oh, Molly,” he murmured as he pulled her down onto his lap. “You would make me a very happy man indeed.”
Molly raised her lips willingly to his. But just as their lips met, a loud gong, which reminded Molly of the chiming of Big Ben rang out.
Stephen ended the kiss with obvious reluctance. Resting his forehead against Molly’s, he let out a resigned sigh as he gazed into her luminous brown eyes. “Duty calls.”
They’d just arisen from the chair when a man of Asian appearance entered the room. “The London Sanctum is under attack.”
“What…again?” Stephen exclaimed in exasperation.
Wong shrugged his shoulders by way of response.
Suddenly remembering his manners, Stephen quickly made the necessary introductions. “Molly, Wong. Wong, Molly.”
“Hello,” Molly said with a smile as she offered her hand.
Wong took her hand in his, before giving a slight bow, “A pleasure.”
Then it was back to the situation at hand.
“So what’s happened now?”
“I don’t know the details,” Wong replied. “But it can’t be good.”
“It never is,” Stephen responded with a resigned sigh.
In the blink of an eye Stephen’s attire changed from that of Stephen Strange the man, to Doctor Strange the Sorcerer Supreme.
Stephen had noticed Molly’s rather endearing tendency to chew on her lower lip whenever she was worried about something, just as she was doing right now.
He raised an enquiring eyebrow.
Molly raised her head so that her concerned gaze met his enquiring one head-on. She brushed her fingers over the front of his tunic, before reaching out to stroke the cloak. She let out a resigned sigh. “I just can’t bare the idea of you and this magnificent cloak being hurt or damaged. Sometimes I wish you’d been given a suit of armour, or something.”
Strange chuckled softly, “I believe you have me mistaken with Tony Stark.”
Molly frowned in obvious confusion, “Who?”
Stephen gave a self-deprecating shake of the head as he replied, “Never mind.” Then, ever so gently he leant down, brushing his lips against hers. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”
Using his sling-ring he and Wong jumped through the gateway, which immediately closed after them.
No sooner have Stephen and Wong departed than there was the sound of knocking.
Molly stayed where she was for a moment, uncertain what to do. But when it became apparent that no-one else was going to attend to the situation, she made her way cautiously from the sitting room down to the ground level.
*
SANCTUM FOYER
When Molly opened the front door to the New York Sanctum, she found a distinguished looking black man patiently waiting admittance.
***