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"Library card, please."
"Certainly," Everett replied politely, reaching into his jacket pocket for his wallet when he realized...it wasn't there.
He frantically patted himself up and down, feeling every free space in his slacks and jacket just to be certain, but it was obvious that he'd forgotten it back in T'challa's hotel room.
In fact, now that he took the time to think about it, he remembered exactly which dresser it was resting on.
"Damn."
"Is everything all right, hun?" The middle aged brunette asked from behind the counter, concern written on her face at Everett's distressed expression. He didn't mean to seem upset. Well, of course he was but it wasn't this woman's fault. No reason to worry her over his stupid mistake.
"No, it's...it's fine. I just left my wallet back at my hotel. I'll go put these away."
He picked up the meager stack of books even as the librarian insisted that he needn't do it himself. Everett slowly breathed in the old, musty air around him. Maybe this was some sort of cosmic sign that he just needed to deal with his own stresses, not use these self help books that most likely wouldn't have worked for him anyway.
Everett had just turned down the aisle when he heard someone shout: "Sir!"
He glanced back and saw the woman at the desk, looking sheepish as customers shot glares at her for her tone of voice while in the library.
Luckily, she didn't have to repeat herself because Everett was coming back. She smiled warmly at him.
"You can go ahead and take the books, hun. They're due back in three weeks."
"W-what? But I don't have my card."
Her smile widened into an all out grin, showing small dimples in her cheeks. "That nice man over there used his when he'd heard that you'd forgotten yours. So sweet of him."
Everett whipped his head to the left, following the woman's line of sight to a tall man headed toward the exit. Without a backward glance, he sprinted after him.
"Have a nice day you two!"
A chorus of angry hisses and whispers sounded behind him at the woman's escalated tone, but he didn't pay them any mind. He was solely focused on closing the distance between himself and the stranger.
"Excuse me," Everett spoke, lightly touching the man's elbow to stop him. The stranger pivoted with a light smirk on his face.
And what a face it was! Shining blue eyes that crinkled around their edges, a perfectly groomed goatee and quaffed salt and pepper hair set among delicate features to match his slender, graceful body. A body which was hugged by a well fitting maroon sweater, black pants and polished shoes.
"Yes?" The man asked, snapping Everett from his reverie.
"Um...I just wanted to say 'thank you.' For the books, I mean. Most wouldn't trust a random stranger to borrow things in their name."
The man easily shifted his weight, smirk still set. "It was nothing, really," he insisted. "Though I'm sure you could use every one of those books. You seemed very agitated, but it was admirable that you were able to remain so polite. Just thought I'd step in."
The stranger swiveled back toward the exit. "I trust you'll return them on time."
For no reason he could fathom, Everett followed him. What was he doing? It was obvious this guy wanted to leave but...
"Was there something else I could help you with?"
"No," Everett insisted. "I...um..."
He could feel the man's sapphire gaze on him as the seconds ticked by, but he remained silent, expectant.
Finally, Everett extended his hand professionally, acting as if meeting one of his associates.
"Everett K. Ross."
The man took his offered hand in his own gloved one, but it felt...odd. A bit quick and tense, though his voice didn't give anything away. "Dr. Stephen Strange. Though I find myself currently out of practice, so Stephen will be fine."
"Why are you out of practice?" Everett asked with genuine curiosity.
The man, er, Stephen's face fell just a fraction at his question. A beat or two later, the doctor removed his leather gloves, revealing a dense pattern of scar tissue and, now that Everett was paying attention, steady trembling.
"Can't very well perform surgery with these, now, can I?"
"Holy shit," Everett blurted before looking absolutely mortified.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I..."
But Stephen just smirked again. "It's okay. About a year ago, I would have gotten angry with you, but now I've come to terms with the accident, my injuries and my life." He casually replaced the gloves to their designated hand. "Plus, I know just how shocking these can be to see."
Everett shook his head insistently. "No, really, I didn't mean that they were hard to look at or anything. I simply meant that it must be hard having been a surgeon and now you're unable to. I could't imagine not being able to do my work."
He felt as if he was rambling a bit, but Stephen remained ever attentive.
Everett cleared his throat after a while of just standing near the library doors.
"Um, I'm sorry. I've already taken up enough of your time. Thank you again for the books."
He went to step around Stephen, intent to rush out of there before he said or did something else that the man might not take so well.
"You know..." Stephen started, pausing Everett's steps. "Those books are easier to follow with help."
His brow rose. "What kind of help?"
The doctor strode confidently beside him. Apparently his hands were the only things impaired because the rest of his body moved gracefully as if it took no conscious thought at all.
"I'm also a psychologist and student of martial arts. I could give you some pointers if you'd like."
Everett couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "Oh. Of course you are."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, just...you seem to have that air of someone who's good at everything they do. Not that it seems to have effected your personality any," he added offhandedly.
Stephen absolutely preened under the praise, but Everett was too busy being embarrassed again to notice.
"Sorry...again. I don't have much of a filter as it were. Just sort of blurt out anything that comes to mind."
A guiding, trembling hand found itself at the base of Everett's spine, steering them both into the crisp autumn air. "That's alright, Everett. I find your honesty refreshing. And it doesn't seem to have effected your personality any, either."
Everett could feel his cheeks heating.
"Um, so, can I have your number?"
It was Stephen's turn to blush.
"I-I mean, I'm busy for the next few days. Work and all that. And I should probably at least try to read some of these first. So I figured it'd be easier if we exchanged numbers. If you were serious about helping me, that is."
Though he didn't see from where, Stephen pulled out a pen and slowly, carefully wrote on the top of Everett's hand.
"I'm quite serious."