I'm adding to the bromance of Doctor Strange and his Cloak, because its great, and one of my new favorite things after seeing the movie. Enjoy.

If one were to question Doctor Stephen Strange's knowledge of magic and how to deal with it he'd answer; "I swear I know what I'm doing... most of the time." Just at this particular moment he hadn't a clue, but this was hardely his fault. He'd never been told how to deal with the Cloak of Levitation when it had wrapped itself around the light fixture of his bedroom and was refusing to come down. None of the books he read had touched on this either. He was on his own, and really, how was he supposed to know that the Cloak hated water? It was at times likes this that he really thought that there should be instructions.

All he'd tried to do was clean the Cloak, as earlier that morning rain had fallen. This leaving dirty water puddles on the streets and sidewalks to be splashed onto predistrians by passing transports and fellow humans. Unfortunately this meant that some of the water found its way onto the Cloak, dampening the red fabric and leaving it filthy, after the sorcerer had ventured outside.

Upon returning home he had gone into the bathroom and shrugged off the Cloak. It remained suspended there in mid air, oblivious of his intentions. He is sure now that if it had known it would have left much sooner. He had then turned on the hot water for the shower (at least he'd thought of that) before grabbing a hold of the Cloak to bring it under the steaming spray. The Cloak went rigid in his grasp before wrenching itself free, almost knocking its chosen one backwards in his surprise. Bewildered Strange turned off the water, having regained his balance, and left the bathroom as well. Entering his bedroom brings us back to the present moment. The Cloak of Levitation wrapped around the light fixture, still completely dirty, and he at a complete lost on how to get it down.

"Please come down! You need to be cleaned!" He called, and admittedly still felt a bit silly for speaking to an article of clothing, but for one in his situation this action couldn't be avoided. Plus, he supposed this wasn't the stragest thing he's done. No, in his short time as a sorcerer there had been weirder things.

"How about we use the washer and dryer?" Wrong suggestion. The Cloak merely wrapped itself tighter, to the point that he thought the light fixture would shatter. He sighed, and moved to lay down on his bed. Done pleading with the the Cloak. Honestly the way it was reacting one would think Strange had committed some unforgivable act, and not something as simple as trying to clean it.

He simply closed his eyes and waited, sure that the Cloak would eventually come down of its own accord. The seconds passed, stretching into minutes, nothing moved and only the ticks of the old clock on the nightstand could be heard in the stillness. Sure enough he soon felt the Cloak settle over him as it was want to do.

"You can't avoid being cleaned forever." His calm voice broke the silence. The Cloak began to shutter again at these words, yet didn't fly off. The sorcerer ran his minutely shaking hand over the fabric, a bit amused with the task of comforting a garment.

"There's no reason to be afraid." The shuttering seemed to lessen a little, so he continued. "I promise it won't take long either." The Cloak pulled away then and he thought it was going to run away again, but it surprised him by tugging at his hand. Getting the message Strange got up; once again heading towards the bathroom. The Cloak followed slowly but obediantly. As he turned on the water and waited for it to heat up the Cloak hung there suspended in mid air, drooping and seeming resigned to its inevitable fate. Once the water was warm the sorcerer grabbed hold of the Cloak, gentler this time, muttered: "You can trust me", and manuevered the Cloak into the shower. If clothes could look completely miserable then the Cloak was a perfect example of this phenomenon. It stayed there limp and still until Strange had deemed it clean and turned off the water.

"See that wasn't so bad, now was it?" The sorcerer smiled a little at his Cloak. It remained still for another moment before moving to drape itself over its chosen one's head. Soaking the man and dripping water onto the floor.

"I suppose you think I deserve that." Strange said as he tugged the Cloak off. It quivered in a way that could be taken for laughter, and wound itself around his forarms. He sighed but smiled fondely. "What am I going to do with you?"