Ginger and Cardamom was the first scent to hit Marc's senses. He tossed around on what felt like a cheap spring mattress, hoping to shield his eyes from the morning sun.

He just lay there taking in the smell and the soft music in a language he could not place.

It was the stiffness in his neck that finally forced him awake. Opening his eyes he realised that what he felt pressing against his back wasn't the cheap mattress he had in his storage locker but a pale blue couch.

His brain finally caught up to his senses and he realised he was in an unfamiliar apartment.

Marc jumped to his feet, ready to fight whoever it was that was keeping him there. Was it Harrow's men? Or the people he crossed paths with during his time in Cairo?

"You want some chai, I made extra because last night you said you wanted to try some. Something about a friend who loves tea"

Marc looked at the woman who was standing bare feet next to the stove in a pair of pyjamas. Judging by her lack of concern towards his presence, it was clear she knew him enough to be this comfortable around him.

"Yeah sure," he whispered, hoping that it would buy him some time to make sense of the situation.

He tried to think about last night but drew a blank. All he could remember was going out to get some lunch. So he looked to see if Steven was close. Nothing. He was on his own here.

The woman strained the chai in two brightly coloured cups and brought them over to him along with some biscuits.

"I didn't know if you took sugar with your tea so I skipped it just to be safe. I would have asked you to pull the couch out but you passed out before I had a chance. I guess last night was rough even by your standard because last time you were here you made such a fuss about not staying the night."

Rough night...did he sleep with her and now could not remember. Maybe he met her at a bar. There were nights when being alone felt like the worst thing he could do, but he hadn't been drinking a lot since they walked away from Konshu. And even if he had gotten that drunk it wouldn't explain why he woke up on the couch instead of her bed that was nearby.

"So what is it?" She asked, looking over the rim of her mug. The look on her face was unreadable. Her lips were pressed together tightly. Her brown eyes fixed on Marc as if she was searching for something.

Marc tilted his head in confusion. He decided it was better to not talk too much before he could piece together what was going out.

She was quick to fill the silence that hung between them, "Your name. You never told me, didn't ask for mine either. You keep calling me a nurse when I try to get you to move and be a little more comfortable."

"Okay, this is a new low Marc. You came here with this beautiful woman and you didn't even bother asking her name. How much did you drink last night" Steven stared at him from the reflection in the mirror that hung next to the entrance.

Marc glared at his alter as if to chastise him for his timing. But then, he shook his head in defeat. Steven was right, this was bad. But not for the reasons Steven was thinking.

If he was so drunk he could not remember who she was or how he met her, then there was a good chance that she knows something that Marc would not have told someone when sober. Marc had one question on his mind, who was this woman and exactly how much did she know about him?

Does she know about Steven? Was that why she was being so gentle with them?

All of a sudden Marc felt like his lungs were out of air, he started gasping for whatever little air he could inhale. It was as if the warmth from the cup was the only thing keeping his fingers from freezing.

The woman immediately jumped to her feet, kneeling down in front of Marc to see if he needed something.

But before she could say a word, Marc decided that it was time to leave.

"Marc Spector," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Okay, Marc I need you to focus on the sound of my voice, can you do that?" She asked in a calm steady tone.

Marc nodded. He could feel that Steven was there with him, trying to reassure Marc that he was safe.

For almost a minute or so Marc counted his breaths with the former nurse directing him. In and out. In and out.

The nurse remained on the floor the entire time, she kept talking so Marc had something to focus on but never came close. Never made an attempt to touch him. Assuring him that she was there if he needed anything.

After a while, Marc slowly became aware of his surroundings once again. He focused his attention on the things around him and began to count.

Steven in the reflection. Marc's own hands. The teacups that were on the coffee table in front of him. The couch, which was perhaps the most uncomfortable thing he had slept on in a while. And lastly, the woman who was looking at him with concern that she was trying to hide with a gentle smile.

Four things he could feel. His feet as they touch the ground, the stiffness in his neck, the edge of the coffee table that was poking his knee. And finally, a pain in his abdomen that he had felt for the first time since waking up.

Things he could hear were the song which was in Hindi according to Steven and the ceiling fan that was making a grinding noise. And Steven who was counting things alongside him.

He could smell an incense stick that was burning in the kitchen but he couldn't recognise the smell, then there was the smell of London air.

"That smell?"

"It's sandalwood," the woman replied. She was now sitting cross-legged on the floor.

The only thing he could taste was ginger and cardamom from the tea.

"I'm really sorry for how this is going to sound but I have no idea what happened last night or who you are and how I ended up here. You must understand, I don't usually do this," Marc tried his best to explain his position.

She giggled. The woman who had been so concerned mere seconds ago was now giggling like a ten-year-old.

"You make it sound like we had sex last night and now you can't remember my name. Which is Astha by the way."

"We didn't?"

The response was more from Steven than him. There was a weight that was lifted from his shoulders. It's not that Marc or Steven thought she wasn't attractive, quite the opposite. But after how things ended with Layla, neither of them were ready to get into a relationship.

"No. You were stabbed, and I used to be a nurse so I brought you upstairs to take a look."

Stabbed? Well, that would explain the sharp pain in his stomach.

"Okay...," Marc's voice trailed off. There was clearly more to it than she was letting on but all things considered it wasn't as bad as he had initially thought.

"Thank her for looking out for us, Marc. She could have left us out there. And we would not have made it without the suit. She may have saved our lives "

As always Steven knew exactly what to say and Marc followed his advice. Steven had always been better at communicating. So the entire time they were there, Steven took care of the conversation.

He had become better at copying Marc's accent. The subtle differences were only noticed by anyone who may have heard Steven talk at length.

Marc stood back, fully taking in his surroundings now that he wasn't so focused on talking.

The small studio was littered with books and paperwork. A folder marked with the Global Repatriation Council logo caught his eye. Then he noticed the ID cards that hung on a hook behind the apartment door.

One for a hospital in the area and the other for the GRC. Marc shifted his focus to the woman that was now talking to Steven about wanting to check out the local library.

Conversation flowed easily between Astha and Steven. Steven had told her about their job at the museum, and Marc was correct in his assumption that she was working for the GRC, trying to rehabilitate people who had disappeared for five years.

Marc and Steven were part of the half that did not turn to dust. Layla on the other hand was not so lucky. That was the time when Marc started working as a mercenary and moved to London, using Steven as their official name.

"I'm actually getting late for work. It was a pleasure meeting you. And once again thank you for everything." Steven explained once he looked at the time, they had an early shift at the gift shop as Donna was out of town.

When Marc and Steven were free from Konshu, they decided to go back to Donna who suggested that Steven should apply to be a guide for the Egypt exhibition when it reopened. And while they were waiting to hear back from the museum, they started working in the gift shop again.

It was a lot easier to maintain a schedule now that he and Steven were working as a team. But that didn't mean they stopped having bad days. There were still times like last night when they had no idea what or how they ended up in a place. But those were few and far between.

Steven had suggested that they see a therapist again, but after their experiences with Harrow, that was something that would take some time.

As Marc was leaving, Astha gave him her number, explaining that she would be happy to help whenever he needed it. And judging by how happy Steven was about having made a first proper friend in London, it was only a matter of time before they saw her again.