"So that's it," said Strange, leaning back with a self-satisfied smile. "That's the story of how I reversed time and saved Earth from an inter-dimensional demon lord."

     Janet stared at him in stunned silence. Despite her own inexplicable abilities involving magic, she was still struggling to believe his outlandish tale. She sat with her left elbow propped on one arm of the chair, fingers pressed against her temple. Her brow furrowed as she endeavored to comprehend the magnitude of his words. "You...reversed time?"

     "Yep," he replied casually, his eyes flickering with amusement.

     "And you defeated this...Dormammu...simply by annoying him?"

     Strange raised an eyebrow. "Are you really that surprised?"

     "I guess not," she decided, straightening. "In fact, that might be the most believable thing you've told me."

     "You asked," he shrugged. Pausing, he shifted his gaze to the doorway behind her. "Now I live here with—with a cranky old cloak and far too much time on my hands, though there has been a recent increase in magic-related incidents."

     The sudden shift in his face and tone alerted Janet to the fact that there was something he was not telling her. She did not care to press him about it now, however, for he had finally brought up the very subject she wished to discuss.

     "That's why I'm here," she said, leaning forward. "My employer has assigned me the task of finding out what was really behind those earthquakes in Los Angeles. All we know is that S.H.I.E.L.D. was on site at the time, and they played hero when it was over. But I have good reason to believe that they were involved in causing the quakes themselves."

     "But S.H.I.E.L.D. was dismantled," he countered. "They never recovered from the H.Y.D.R.A. coup."

     "They've been reinstated as a classified agency of the United States government just like before."

     "Look," Strange waved a hand, "I'm not really a fan of wading into political conspiracies."

     "Hear me out," she persisted. "Recently, S.H.I.E.L.D. illegally invaded a prison and removed one of its occupants. They've since blacked out all information regarding this prisoner. All we have is a name: Elias Morrow. His nephew? Roberto Reyes, also known as the Ghost Rider."

     "How do you know all of this?" His brow was furrowed with suspicion, but Janet's gaze was rigid.

     "Oscorp has many sources."

     He made no attempt to disguise his dismay, his eyes widening. "You're working for Norman Osborn?"

     "Are you really that surprised?" she smirked.

     Strange pressed his lips into a hard line, recognizing that she was referencing his earlier remark. "I guess not. You always did speak very highly of him, despite my warnings about his methods."

     "You disagreed with his means but not his ends," Janet corrected. "Both of you always pursued the same things: fame, wealth, power."

     "I've changed."

     "Have you?" she challenged.

     He shifted uneasily, eyeing her with a rapidly increasing level of distrust.

     "Remember, Stephen," she went on, "you were on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hit list not too long ago. If it had not been for the heroic actions of Captain America and others that day, the blood of nearly one million innocent people would have been on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands, including your own."

     Janet paused as he sat in thoughtful silence, fingers resting against his chin. When he looked at her again, his features were stern.

     "What does Oscorp stand to gain from this?"

     "Nothing," she lied. "We're just making sure that everyone stays accountable."

     "Yeah, maybe," he mused, his piercing gaze fixed on hers. "Or maybe you're weeding out the competition."

     "Enough stalling, Stephen. Are you in, or are you out? I won't ask again."

     He shifted in his seat and took a deep breath. "I will do some investigating of my own to find out if there's any credibility to the information you've given me. Then, if I discover that S.H.I.E.L.D. is tampering with things that ought not be tampered with, I will interfere."

     She smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

     He opened his mouth to protest but then closed it again. Intrigued, he observed her closely. "So what are you now? Some sort of government spy?"

     She tilted her head. "Hm, I think I'll keep you guessing."

     A slight smile crept onto his lips as Janet stood and prepared to leave. Rising from his chair, Strange watched as she withdrew a small card from her coat pocket.

     "A pleasure doing business with you, Doctor. When you find that lead, give me a call."

     Grasping the paper between his fingers, he nodded and then accompanied her as she returned to the front door of the Sanctum. Despite her intent to see herself out, he slipped past her and opened the door. Hesitating, Janet looked up at him uncertainly.

     "You know," said Strange, "despite the odd circumstances of our little reunion, it's good to see you again, Janet."

     Her throat constricted, each word stabbing painfully into her chest, but she forced a smile and reminded herself to play along. "You too, Stephen."

     She hesitated a moment before turning and leaving the Sanctum. Wrapping her coat more tightly around herself, Janet descended the steps, a fierce wind whipping through her black hair. She did not look back at him, did not even consider it. She wanted nothing more than to get away from him, to escape.

     **********

     Once the door to her apartment shut behind her, Janet pressed her back against it and hung her head. Hot tears welled behind her closed lids, a lump burning in her throat. As hard as she had known seeing him again would be, the reality was far worse. He had not been cold and conceited and calculating. He had changed, and that was the most terrifying part. He was not the Stephen she once knew.

     Instead, he had been unforeseeably kind and had welcomed her in despite not having seen her in over a decade. Janet knew that she was one of many, that there had been more than a few women in his life over the years; and yet, he had given her his full attention, had treated her with dignity and respect. Indeed, the accident had changed him, in more ways than one. She no longer knew what to expect from him—he was entirely unpredictable.

     Inhaling a shuddering breath and brushing her hair out of her eyes, Janet straightened. She stood there for a long while in front of the door, gathering her thoughts and waiting for her racing heartbeat to slow before calling Norman. He would be pleased to hear that her attempt to persuade Strange had been successful. As this thought entered her mind, a satisfied smile crossed Janet's features, pride swelling inside her. Fears forgotten, she pulled out her cellphone, eager to deliver the good news.