He blinks and the spell twitches again. "That did come up, actually. We swapped cloaks. The Cloak of Levitation tried to strangle him, so I think I came out fine overall, but he did outdrink me so some drunk portalling may have resulted. This is, of course, highly sensitive information."

Stephen had never lived at the Avengers compound like Wanda had — the Sorcerer Supreme had always been an ally, rather than an official member of the team — but his paths had crossed with them often enough. Turns out when you help a Norse god track down his missing father, you remain in his general good books and get invited to his next party. And Thor was the most fun Avenger: interactions with the god had been more friendly than Strange's few bristling interactions with Tony Stark, at least.

The water is retreating and retreating, and it's almost gone: the legs of the credenza and the chairs have settled onto the floor of the foyer again, touching solid ground once more.

And since the topic's come up, he indulges in some curiosity.

"Is the team still..." He doesn't really know how to broach this delicately. But Strange doesn't make a habit of sugarcoating things, either, so in the end he doesn't. "Is the team still much of a thing, after Stark's death?"