Strange may find it comforting how easy the couch is to sink into, broken in by many enthusiastic jumps (it wasn't brand new when they got it) as it is. Of course, short of phasing directly through it like a ghost, he isn't actually going to succeed in melting through it, so he just has to deal with the full weight of Lambert's stare of disbelief.

Of course, in retrospect, it all makes sense. Strange knows a lot about faeries. Knows about binding and contracts. He'd been disdainful of the idea of contracting with demons, but he'd held the contract with faeries in high regard.

For a moment, his hands clenching into fists at his side, Lambert looks like he really does want to hit Strange again. Somehow, he manages to reel it in, though he grits his teeth and gets out the question word by painstaking word. "An alliance on what terms?"