Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

The sudden turn of events made Claire’s heart tighten.

For approximately three seconds.

Then she relaxed.

"What exactly is the big deal?"

In her imagination, Claire reclined on an enormous velvet sofa dressed like an old-world queen, one leg crossed over the other as she sipped coffee with an almost regal smile.

"If the sky falls, someone taller can hold it up. Why should I be the one rushing out to catch it?"

Her smile became positively serene.

"If Evenson actually dares to fool around behind my back, I’ll quietly inform those two terrifying demon women. After that, he can deal with the consequences himself."

With that settled in her mind, Claire decided there was no reason to say anything more.

Unfortunately, Evenson suddenly brought up something else that she found considerably less acceptable.

"This whole thing isn’t a big deal," Evenson said. "It’s not even really related to magic. It’s just political business. And after all the traveling we’ve done, you’re probably exhausted too, so I was thinking..."

"You don’t want me to come with you?"

Claire’s heart immediately tightened again.

What was that supposed to mean?

She narrowed her eyes.

"You aren’t actually planning something with that man’s daughter, are you?"

"Of course not!"

Evenson denied it so quickly that Claire almost laughed.

"I’m just worried you’ll be tired. And honestly, sitting there listening to two people exchange meaningless pleasantries for hours doesn’t exactly sound like your idea of fun."

The real reason was considerably less noble.

Evenson was going to visit Gideon Malick with every intention of squeezing, manipulating, and generally extracting as much as he possibly could from the man.

Bringing Claire along made him feel awkward about it.

More importantly, Claire was far too straightforward and honest. If she came with him, there was a very real chance she’d expose the entire operation before he could get anything out of Malick.

Claire’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

After several seconds, she slowly opened them again.

"Fine. Do whatever you want."

She paused.

"But..."

There was a strange glimmer in her eyes.

"Give me the phone numbers of those two."

Evenson blinked.

"Who?"

"Don’t play dumb. The two demon women."

"Oh."

Evenson suddenly understood.

Their numbers?

Why did Claire want their numbers?

Was she planning to pick a fight with the Eredar twins?

"Not that I’m unwilling to give them to you..."

Evenson hesitated.

"But you know what they’re capable of. Neither I nor the Sorcerer Supreme can get much of an advantage against them. I’m worried you’ll end up getting hurt."

"You don’t need to worry about that."

Claire smiled brightly.

"I don’t like them. They don’t like me. That doesn’t mean we have to spend the rest of our lives trying to kill each other."

She shrugged.

"If there’s an opportunity to ease the tension between us, I think that’s worth trying."

"Absolutely. Sounds good."

Evenson immediately began rummaging through the coffee table with far more enthusiasm than the situation warranted.

He found a notepad, wrote down the Eredar twins’ phone numbers, and handed it over.

Inside, he was practically dancing.

Could this be it?

Had his luck finally turned around?

Was the universe finally rewarding him?

Maybe his long-awaited dream of a harmonious household with everyone getting along was actually becoming possible.

Claire carefully folded the note.

While Evenson was busy dreaming about his glorious future, she slipped the paper somewhere safe.

A tiny, satisfied smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"All right. I’m going back to my room for a little nap."

"Mm-hmm. Sure."

Evenson barely registered the words.

He was still lost in his beautiful vision of the future.

He absentmindedly wiped a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Have a good nap."

And that was the end of the matter.

The aircraft reached S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters without further incident.

Then, naturally, everyone went home.

Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen.

"I say, Director..."

Evenson planted his hands on his hips and stared suspiciously at Nick Fury.

"Did you forget something?"

Fury looked genuinely confused.

"Forget what?"

"Do you remember how this operation started?"

Evenson reminded him.

"I didn’t drive myself to New York. You sent a plane to pick me up."

He gestured around them.

"And now we’re at the Triskelion."

Fury still didn’t seem to understand.

"So?"

Evenson stared at him.

"So who’s paying for my ride home?"

His voice rose enough that several mechanics working on the aircraft nearby turned to look.

A few junior agents exchanged glances.

Who was this guy?

How had he acquired the courage to talk to the Director like that?

Didn’t he want a paycheck?

Or a Christmas bonus?

Evenson noticed everyone staring and became uncomfortable.

What?

S.H.I.E.L.D. had dragged him out of bed with a private aircraft to save the world.

Fine.

He’d done his part.

But they couldn’t just dump him at headquarters afterward and expect him to pay for his own transportation home.

Nick Fury actually paused.

Apparently, none of the other superheroes had ever bothered to ask about something so mundane.

He’d simply forgotten that Evenson was constitutionally incapable of following the normal rules of superhero behavior.

Fury spotted an agent standing nearby.

"You. Yes, you."

The agent straightened immediately.

"Sir?"

"Take these two home."

Fury pointed at Evenson and Claire.

"And stop by a clothing store on the way. Pick up one of our standard suits for him."

"Three," Evenson added.

"I need something to change into."

Fury’s jaw tightened.

"Fine."

He ground the word out through his teeth.

"Three suits."

Then he turned toward the agent.

"Now get them out of my sight as quickly as possible."

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s efficiency was impressive.

It was possible the agent was simply excited to have received a direct order from the Director for the first time.

Either way, he drove a Chevrolet SUV like he was trying to set a land-speed record.

Evenson and Claire eventually arrived home with the three suits.

Evenson stepped out of the vehicle carrying his new clothes and looked toward his own little shop.

It was, as usual, operating somewhere between "barely open" and "technically not closed."

Claire’s shop, meanwhile, was a completely different story.

People were already waiting outside for her to open.

"The owner’s back! She’s back! Please open the doors! I’ve been waiting forever for that limited-edition merch!"

"Claire! I need those black-rimmed glasses! I’m dying over here! I need something to revive me!"

The crowd erupted into cheers as Claire unlocked the door and began preparing the shop for business.

Evenson stood beside her in silence.

A cold breeze swept past him, sending dry leaves skittering across the pavement.

He looked down at the three suits in his hands.

Then he sighed.

There was a strange, profound sadness in his expression.

Fine.

He’d go home.

Evenson pushed open the door to his own shop.

Inside, only Habs and Dumen seemed to have any energy left.

Everyone else was slumped in chairs like their souls had temporarily abandoned their bodies.

The moment Sarah saw him, a tear rolled down the corner of her eye.

"Boss! You’re finally back!"

Evenson froze.

"What happened?"

His expression immediately became serious.

"Did someone bully you?"

"Boss, you went way too far this time."

Trippy’s face was full of despair.

"You locked our living expenses behind mobile banking!"

Evenson’s blood ran cold.

"Mobile banking?"

He stared at her.

"Wait."

His voice became cautious.

"That card wasn’t connected to mobile banking."

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