It’s like he’s back in his first year in the archives all over again. Knowing how John had been then and knowing who he is now should have struck that bleeding heart of Martin’s. But he’s tipsy, and a bit of a bitch. And Strange likes to hear the sound of his own voice. The little hurrumph says it all, plain as day.

His brows furrow a bit as he sips his drink through a day-glo orange straw, and if Strange can see past the tint of Martin’s sunglasses, he’ll note the man squinting (more and more). “Some of us are doing fine. That someone wouldn’t take offense,” he points out, tone brightly matter-of-fact. “But you have. How weird.”

Attention is temporarily diverted from being a bitch to thanking Thomas for his final drink of the evening. Though it is the same order, it will not be the same experience. Damn, Thomas. Get it together.

“I– I mean, yes, but these are just your basic ice-breaker questions. What would you ask? Go on.”