The Sorcerer's Apprentice {Stephen Strange}

Thirty-Six

Since I Don't Have You by The Skyliners

"Moore, is this your stuff all over? What is this? Elecampane?" Strange sighs as he pushes the herbs aside to make his lunch. As the sergeant has been busy studying her mystical herbs, the sorcerer has made a point to try to understand more. He stands in jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a dark jacket, with his peppered hair slicked back. He looks undoubtedly handsome and it only makes Emerson more sexually flustered. Does this man ever look not good?

"Inula helenium, yes. Sorry, I was working on something," the sergeant mumbles as she continues making notes in her leather-bound journal, trying to distract herself from the heat pooling in her abdomen. She flips through the pages, looking to see where she previously referenced the wild yellow flower. She's so focused on her studies that she hardly looks up at the sorcerer. That's the excuse she makes, anyway. Really she's just trying her hardest to refrain from throwing herself at the sorcerer.

"Didn't I give you an office where you can work?" Strange quips as he makes his afternoon coffee, making sure to add just enough cream and sugar. He pours the sergeant a mug as well, knowing she'd take a coffee seeing as how late she stayed up last night. He's noticed her lack of sleep this past week. It's understandable, though, considering the circumstances. Nightmares flood her mind as she watches her father dying in the hospital bed over and over again. Sleep doesn't come easy to those who are mourning.

"It's not enough room for my plant studies," she groans before speaking up again. "Plus, it's nice to stay in a place where people come through and chat. People don't walk through my office to grab a snack." She inspects one of the herbs and writes down some more information. Glancing around the kitchen with all of the clutter, Strange lets a small grin play on his lips. "What's making you all giddy?" The sergeant questions, noticing the sorcerer's look.

"You. The mess you've made in my kitchen. It's... homely."

"Your kitchen?" The sergeant quirks an eyebrow at his statement. Without another word, Strange sets the mug down for her before stepping forward to sweetly kiss her forehead. This amount of sensuality from the doctor leaves Emerson pleasantly surprised. He's rarely this affectionate.

"How'd you sleep?" He takes a seat next to her as she flips through her journal. She looks up at the sky, trying to recall when she went to bed.

"Eh, could've been better. I was up for a while doing some research and my mind was so distracted. Maybe if you were next to me I'd get some better sleep..." She grins while taking a careful sip of her freshly poured coffee. "Thank you." She gestures to the cup before starting to scribble in her journal once again.

"Then stay in my room tonight. I'd hate for you to lose any more sleep," he answers honestly without any hint of mischievousness in his voice.

"I personally think that would cause me to lose even more sleep. You and I both know that," the sergeant pokes fun at the sorcerer while inspecting another plant.

"I mean, I wouldn't complain if I lost a little sleep. Honestly, I think I sleep too much," the sorcerer jokes. Emerson crosses her arms playfully, raising an eyebrow at his comment.

"You? Sleep too much? Pfft, yeah right. You wish you could oversleep."

"I do wish I could oversleep. Preferably next to you," he adds the last part with a mumble leaving the sergeant stunned. The sergeant carefully sets her herb clippings down on the counter before turning fully to face the doctor.

"You really mean that?" Emerson questions, a small smile resting on her face.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, Emerson. I- Well, I enjoy your company and the time we spend together," he tries to say without stumbling over his words. He hasn't done this in a while; talk about his feelings and reveal his thoughts. Not since Christine, at least. It's been years and he never thought he'd get this anxious about it.