Who: Stephen Strange and Christine Palmer What: A business proposal When: IDK, right now probably Where: The San Francisco version of the Sanctum Santorum Warnings: Some light innuendo and plenty of snark
The cult jokes were just too easy, even as old as they were, when Christine had first stepped foot into the Sanctum. Even more so when they reached the collection of “sacred artifacts”.
It was quiet. The kind of silence that wasn’t quite deafening, though. A comfortable silence that lets you think when you need to. A welcomed escape from the hustle and bustle of the apartment building.
Christine could understand why Stephen liked it; why he was almost excited about showing it off to her.
Now that all the singing, dancing, and breakout Broadway moments had dissipated - Christine swore she heard past Sorcerer Supremes and other mystics cringing at the bannister slide in the midst of a hopelessly sarcastic yet romantic serenade - things could be normal. As normal as they could be given the direction her life, their lives, had decided to go.
“Have you thought about my idea about the shop? The job where you’re less likely to hex or curse or magic your co-worker into oblivion?” Pausing mid-page flip, the book itself old and filled with things Christine was attempting to wrap her head around, but seemed at a loss, she gave Stephen a hopeful grin. Eyebrows raised with her chin resting on the other hand, she was more confident than hopeful given it was an offer not even he could refuse.
***
Stephen had been excited to share his sanctuary with her for a few reasons, honestly. She was the most important person in his life, whether either of them liked it or not. It only made sense to share his other home with her. Obviously he would allow Emily access, and maybe eventually he'd allow some of the other magic users as well. But for the moment, he was just enjoying being back in the most comfortable place he knew, with the person he - well, admittedly - loved the most.
A snarky love song duet medley a la La La Land hadn't been on the agenda, but then, most things in their current lives hadn't been.
She had, of course, immediately gone for the books. Which was fine with him, as he wasn't sure certain artifacts would really want to be handled by non-Sorcerers. And he found himself tucked in his favorite chair, across from her snuggled up in a chair, reading quietly.
Till she broke her silence with her not-entirely-ridiculous suggestion.
"Christine," he began with a sigh. "Neither of us knows the first thing about running a business. We got MDs, not MBAs."
***
Books were safe and familiar. Both of which she preferred and was finding in different forms now. The whole magic thing, at times, was still an adjustment. Specifically with Emily and a few other individuals, but Christine had finally graduated from ‘are you serious?’ to ‘not the strangest thing I’ve seen to date’. Baby steps, really.
“We also have functioning brains, the internet, and an exceptionally well-versed group of people who do. Besides, I’ve already talked things over with Pepper, did some digging, and there’s paperwork, but we both know I can handle that.”
Closing the book and setting it aside, Christine settled on the arm of his chair moments later. “Unless you want to play the role of stay-at-home partner forever.” Which wasn’t a terrible thing, either, but she suspected that wouldn’t last. Not for Stephen. Admittedly, she wouldn’t last, either. The jobs weren’t as demanding as their medical careers had been, but it was enough to keep someone busy.
“I can’t argue with the fact you’d look adorable surrounded by our collection of animals with your knitting and tea.”
***
The eyeroll would have been obvious even from the angle she sat perched at his side. "I'm not adorable in any possible way." Honestly. There were entire dimensions that feared him and he was sleeping with someone who called him adorable? Gross.
"Why do you want to run an…oddities shop anyway? It doesn't seem very you." Christine had always been a bit less logical and practical than him, but not much. Though he supposed the point could be argued that if he was able to eventually let go and embrace magic in the world, so could she.
Placing a note in the book he'd been reading to mark his place, he reached over and lightly ran a finger over her arm. "You're going to get sick of me. You know you will, living with me and working with me?"
***
The eyeroll had made her laugh, of course.
"Not too long ago, I could say I'd never imagine you wrapped up in magic and all of this," she gestured to the room with a wave of her hand. "But, yes. You're right. Take it in while you can. Paired with our medical knowledge, we could almost be too good at it. Dare I say dangerous?"
Not dangerous, but it could be a fun and interesting challenge. "And I won't come home smelling like patchouli and elderflower everyday. I mentioned it once, and it's like walking into an actual wall."
Hooking a finger around his, Christine shrugged. "Maybe. Wouldn't that make us like every normal couple in the world? Except not as normal, and that's okay."
Sliding her hand into his, she tilted her head slightly to look down at him. "What would you really want to do? That seems to be an option here, you know."
***
The tiny smirk that seemed to only come out for one Christine Palmer made its way across his face. "The patchouli is getting to be a little much. I didn't want to say anything but you're starting to smell like Woodstock." Not that he had been to Woodstock, but it was the concept, thank you.
It was one of the things he loved about her. Most people seemed to forget that underneath the magic and the sorcery, he was still a doctor. He wasn't able to practice now, not the way he had, and he knew it. But Christine still acknowledged that he absolutely still had the knowledge and the know-how. He just lacked the physical capability.
"I…don't know," he admitted. Those were words Stephen never liked saying out loud. Even more so when he was being asked to confront his own insecurities. "Thanks to a leprechaun, I have the Sanctum, and those are words I never thought I'd say out loud." He had to chuckle. He'd saved the universe from a dark energy eating being and yet a leprechaun threw him off. "But it isn't the same. It doesn't come with the community. Being Master of a Sanctum means almost nothing here. I lost everything, found a new everything, and then I lost that, too."
He hadn't meant to spill all of that. But with his hand wrapped in Christine's, he just sort of found himself talking. "If I have to pick up and do it all again, maybe a business isn't so bad. And it plays to our strengths." And maybe she wouldn't get fed up and try to poison his tea. That might be nice.
***
"And we've been known to do some pretty great work together." Her grip tightened ever so slightly as Stephen talked. Allowing him to open up like he was, talking with her with such ease, Christine hung on every word.
It was sad, really. Tragic, too. As humbling an experience it was, that was too much for any person to handle.
"I can't begin to pretend how that has to feel," Christine said, pausing to press a kiss to his hand. "But you haven't lost everything." Sure, it was a dangerous statement to make. No one knew if they would wake up still in this time and place the next day. For now, though, they could pretend that they would. That this was forever.
"You can pick the name this time."
***
The words he'd shouted at her in anger and hopelessness still echoed in his mind. And Stephen knew how incredibly lucky he actually was, that he hadn't actually lost everything. Irritating as they might sometimes be, he did consider the Avengers "friends", for what it was worth. He'd gained a lot here - more people he actually enjoyed, Emily, even the damn cat. And he had Christine. For all that he didn't deserve her, he had her.
"I don't think the Strange-Palmer Shop is a great name," he teased, tracing her knuckles with his thumb. "No one's going to want to come in there."
But for all his protesting, his mind was racing. Western medicine, despite its benefits, was broken in so many ways. He knew why so many people turned to alternate sources. And maybe he could help. There were hundreds of books just in this library alone that dealt with ancient forms of healing. Things that, while not regulated, could be legally recommended.
"You said you talked to Pepper? About the requirements and everything? I have no idea how to go about setting all of this up."
***
“You have to go campy with the name, Stephen. Not practical. Practicality doesn’t win customers in this market. Not at first. Something catchy.” Christine waved a hand dramatically with her explanation, a few ideas already stewing. They were cringe-worthy, at best, which had the potential to be perfect.
“I did and I’ve talked with the people in charge, who sent me down another long path that promised even more paperwork and signatures.” And some lease payments and other monetary necessities. “But some of the messy work is done.”
“What about ‘Sacred Supplements’?” It was a joke. Mostly.
***
“I’ve never been ‘campy’ a day in my life,” he reminded her, but he was smiling in spite of himself. “I never even got into those campy films.” Not entirely a lie, but at the very least a half truth. He’d greatly enjoyed some of the ones he’d had to watch with his fraternity brothers.
His gaze turned to her hand, his fingers lightly drifting over each of hers. Anyone who didn’t know him might think he’d tuned out of the conversation entirely. But he was thinking. His mind was racing with ideas, coming up with decor and style and product lines, all while another part of him continued protesting that this was a stupid idea.
“Magical Maladies. Mystical Healing. The Ancient Approach.” He was grinning to show he was mostly teasing, but hey, if any of those worked for her, so be it.
***
“I’m not at all surprised. It’s just something else to add to my running list of things I’m eventually going to get you to try.” A list that she had made long ago and filed in the back of her mind. Simple things. Little things. Things that no one would ever expect the infamous Stephen Strange to be caught dead even considering.
Like painting a mug. A mug that they made using a kit picked up from the local dollar store.
Christine could, and would, appreciate that he was willing to try this. It could go terribly wrong or it could all go frighteningly well in all the right ways. Regardless of the outcome, they’d go through it together no matter what.
Hopefully, anyway.
“What if I’m looking specifically for a Stephen Strange Suggestion?” she asked, the once sweet and excited smile now a playful smirk. “A Sorcerer Supreme Special?” A pause. “Those just might come up. You never know the type of client you get anymore.”
Her fingers curled around his as Christine leaned over just enough to press a kiss to Stephen’s temple. “But always expect the girlfriend to make sure he’s doing alright while trying to adjust to this life since she loves him.”
***
"You're going to have to make up your mind, Christine. Do you want something people will actually shop at or do you want a Stephen Strange Suggestion? I can't do both." Still, his half smile deepened at the gentle kiss. And the reminder that she loved him. He still couldn't quite get his head around that part. It was why he still kept a broken, beat up watch.
"Besides, I'm not the Sorcerer Supreme. Apparently when you disappear for five years, someone has to step in. A grave disappointment, really." But it was Wong, after all, and there were few in the magical community Stephen trusted with the title more.
He turned his head, then, tugging her down for a proper kiss. "Promise we can make out in the stock room once in a while? A guy has to have his priorities in order."
***
Those five years. What had she done in that time? What had happened to her? Had she disappeared, too? Continued her life?
Found someone else?
Had they had any time to say hello even in passing?
Rescued from her thoughts, the growing concern eased from her brow and shoulders as he kissed her. Breaking away simply to take a breath, her thumb brushing against his frustratingly handsome jaw, Christine gave a light snort at the request.
"We'll put it on the schedule as mandatory inventory time."
A promise, of course. Her smile would assure him of that. As would the kiss that followed. "You can be my Sorcerer Supreme," she cooed against his ear.
***
“That might be the cheesiest pick up line I’ve ever heard,” he teased right back, placing the tenderest of kisses against her jaw. Then, of course, a slightly less tender one.
He had lost a lot since his accident. And then gained. And then lost again. And more loss. Yet somehow, he still found himself fairly content. A woman he loved an unbearable amount, an annoyingly talented and clever kid, even the stupid cat who the Cloak loved far more than Stephen himself did.
If narrowing down employment was the only thing standing in his way from being just about perfect, then maybe having their own business was the way to go.
Even if the years of practice and training meant selling chakras to teenagers would hurt his soul a little.