Chapter 26

The books fell down one by one, one on top of the other. The next second, the cat next to him woke up and stretched. Then he went out of the bed, his form shimmering in golden light. In a smooth transition, Stephen returned to his human form, standing at the side of the bed in his usual black tunic and pants.

"So, sleep well?" Stephen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tony groaned, rubbing his face. "You're way too chipper for someone who's been awake all night. What's the plan, now? Reading some more?"

Stephen smirked faintly, his tone dry. "Actually, I thought I'd do something a little more practical this morning. Breakfast."

Tony blinked, sitting up straighter. "Wait, you cook?"

"Among other things," Stephen replied casually. "Get dressed. I'll see you in the kitchen."

Before Tony could respond, Stephen turned on his heel and strode out of the room, the Cloak of Levitation trailing faintly behind him.

.

When Tony entered the kitchen ten minutes later, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he paused in the doorway, momentarily caught off guard.

The smell of pancakes filled the air, warm and inviting, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Stephen stood at the stove, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. The Cloak, now tied loosely around his shoulders like an apron, floated slightly, as though supervising the process.

The countertops were remarkably organized, save for a few bowls of flour, eggs, and milk. A faint golden glow lingered on the utensils, suggesting that Stephen had used a touch of magic to speed up the more tedious steps.

"You're full of surprises, Doc," Tony said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

Stephen glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "You sound shocked. Did you think I was incapable of cooking?"

Tony shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and heading to the coffeemaker. "No offense, but you don't exactly scream 'domestic.'"

Stephen smirked faintly, turning back to the stove. "I've had a couple of centuries to pick up a variety of skills. Cooking just happens to be one of them."

Tony paused mid-pour, turning to look at him. "You're really milking that whole 'temporary-immortal sorcerer' thing, huh?"

Stephen shrugged, his tone casual. "It's not my fault you mortals haven't figured out how to extend your lifespans yet."

Tony snorted, shaking his head as he set two mugs of coffee on the counter. "Alright, wise guy. Let's see if your cooking skills are as impressive as your one-liners."

.

By the time they sat down at the kitchen island, Tony had to admit: the spread was impressive. A stack of golden-brown pancakes sat in the center, alongside fresh fruit, syrup, and butter. Stephen's movements had been precise and methodical, with just enough magical help to keep the process efficient without losing the personal touch.

Tony took a bite, his eyes widening slightly. "Okay, wow. These are… really good."

Stephen raised an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee. "I'd hope so. I've had plenty of time to perfect the recipe."

Tony gestured at the plate with his fork. "No, seriously. These might be the best pancakes I've ever had. Where did you even learn to cook like this?"

Stephen shrugged, his tone casual. "I've had a lot of time on my hands over the centuries. Cooking was just one of many things I decided to master. You'd be amazed at what you can accomplish with enough practice."

Tony leaned back in his chair, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Couple of centuries, huh? So what else have you mastered? Knitting? Ballroom dancing?"

Stephen smirked faintly. "Ballroom dancing, yes. Knitting, no. Though I did experiment with weaving spells into fabrics at one point."

Tony shook his head, laughing softly. "Man, you're really full of surprises. You're like some kind of magical Swiss army knife."

Stephen tilted his head, his smirk softening. "I prefer to think of it as being adaptable."

Tony nodded, gesturing around the kitchen. "Well, adaptable or not, this is… nice. Domestic, even. You, me, pancakes—it's almost normal."

Stephen's smirk widened slightly. "If you'd like, I can conjure a bit of chaos to balance it out."

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, let's keep it domestic. It's… weirdly nice."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the sound of clinking forks and the faint hum of the coffee maker filling the air.

As Stephen took another sip of his coffee, his gaze flicked to Tony, who was already halfway through his second pancake.

It was strange, sharing a quiet morning like this. After centuries of solitude, of keeping others at arm's length, Stephen found himself… enjoying the company. Tony's wit, his curiosity, even his stubbornness—it was refreshing in a way Stephen hadn't expected.

And though he'd never admit it out loud, he found himself thinking that perhaps, for the first time in a long while, he didn't mind the domesticity.

Tony, meanwhile, finished his pancake and pointed his fork at Stephen. "Alright, Doc. You're officially in charge of breakfast from now on."

Stephen chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see about that, Anthony."

Tony grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Don't call me Anthony. But seriously—these pancakes? Top-tier. You're gonna spoil me."

Stephen smirked faintly, his tone dry. "Good. Maybe then you'll stop surviving on takeout and coffee."

Tony laughed, shaking his head. "Not likely, Strange. Not likely."

Stephen leaned back in his chair, his coffee mug resting in his hands as he watched Tony devour the last of his pancakes. The warm domesticity of the morning was a stark contrast to the chaos of the days before, and for a moment, Stephen allowed himself to enjoy the quiet.

But the moment didn't last. Stephen's sharp mind was always moving, and so was Tony's. As Tony reached for his coffee, Stephen cleared his throat.

"Anthony," he said, his voice calm but pointed.

Tony groaned, already sensing the shift in tone. "Here we go. What now, Doc?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow, his expression amused. "You're still working on those research and rescue gadgets, aren't you?"

Tony shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. Why?"

Stephen sipped his coffee, his gaze steady. "You should send the blueprints to Pepper. If you want to appease the military and show them that Stark Industries still has a purpose outside of weapons' manufacturing, those gadgets are a good start."

Tony frowned slightly, tapping his fingers on the table as he considered Stephen's words. "You've got a point. Pepper's already dealing with enough fallout from the weapons shutdown. Something like this could buy her some breathing room."

Stephen nodded, his tone softening. "Exactly. The sooner you show them you're serious about this new direction, the better."

Tony drummed his fingers on the table for a moment before a grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with an idea. "You know what? Let's do better than sending the blueprints to Pepper."

Stephen tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Tony stood abruptly, his energy shifting as he started pacing. "Rhodey. I'll go to Rhodey."

Stephen raised an eyebrow, setting his coffee mug down. "Your friend in the military?"

"Exactly. He's the military liaison with Stark Industries, after all," Tony said, snapping his fingers. "If I show him the gadgets directly—actually put them in his hands—he can help me cut through all the red tape. Hell, he might even help me work on the Mark II while we're at it."

Stephen leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing as he watched Tony pace. "You think he'll be on board with this? From what I've seen, he's not exactly thrilled with your decision to shut down the weapons division."

Tony paused, his grin faltering slightly. "Yeah, well… Rhodey's always been practical. If I can show him the potential of these projects—prove to him that Stark Industries can still be a force for good—I think he'll come around."

Stephen studied Tony for a moment before nodding. "It's worth a try."

Tony grinned, already pulling out his phone to call Rhodey. "Don't worry, Doc. I've got this."

Stephen smirked faintly, his tone dry. "I'll believe that when I see it."

As Tony stepped out of the kitchen to ready a car, Stephen lingered at the table, his gaze thoughtful.

Tony's determination was admirable, but there was a fragility to it—a lingering uncertainty beneath his bravado. Stephen could see it in the way Tony's grin faltered when he mentioned Rhodey, in the way he paced when his thoughts became too chaotic to contain.

But Stephen also saw potential. Tony Stark wasn't just a genius; he was a man who, despite his flaws, wanted to make a difference. And for all his arrogance, he wasn't afraid to ask for help when it mattered.

As Stephen stood, his cloak trailing behind him, he couldn't help but feel a faint spark of hope.