Work Text:
When she stepped through the portal into the New York Sanctum foyer, Neelu collapsed onto the nearest couch. Master Strange followed through and brushed off his black and red robes with his hands. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”
She shot him a look. “You were almost decapitated!”
“Almost being the key word.”
“It got you by your ponytail!”
“A minor inconvenience. And no,” he said before she could speak, “I’m not cutting it. Long hair’s the only way I can make it look neat at all with my pattern of greying.”
Maybe she should just shave the whole thing off.