Maya Garthe had to admit, she was not used to feeling this way.

In all her time at Kamar-Taj, she had formed only a few meaningful connections. Of those few people, she honestly cared for and loved even fewer and she had quite recently lost one such person. The person she had probably loved second only to the Ancient One, to her Ama, and whose betrayal had cut all the more for it.

But it was different with Stephen, whatever it was that she felt around Stephen.

She'd get odd tingles whenever he smiled when he was genuinely happy about something (usually related to his progress or when he'd made a particularly good joke, at least, in his mind); whenever his brow would furrow slightly and the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled when he was in deep thought; whenever those blue-green eyes looked right into hers, confident yet searching.

It was most bizarre.

At first, Maya had attributed it to her apprehension of his latent abilities; to her fear of the familiar bitter self-absorption that could ruin all his potential. That fear never quite dissipated… it couldn't, not when she was constantly reminded by the Ancient One's mysterious disappearances every few days of the man whom they had failed and had failed them. Of the man that Maya had feared at the beginning that Stephen would also become.

But now… now she wasn't so sure. Now, and this was what disturbed her thoughts, she wanted him to prove her wrong. Why? What had changed, she wondered.

Was she fond of him? Yes, she supposed that somewhere, despite herself, Stephen Strange had wormed his way under her calloused skin. He was most certainly entertaining to be around, lifting her spirits often although it wasn't usually because of his many, many jokes that more often than not flew right over her head. He never gave up, however, and it was that which she found endearing. And of course, the same tenacity lent power to his physical training as well, and Maya was always proud when her students improved and overcame obstacles. Stephen was proving to be her best student to date, so naturally she'd be fond of him… but was that all?

No, Maya knew it wasn't. She actually liked being around him, sparring with him with words not just fists, and it had been quite some time since she had had a new intellectual to debate with. He challenged her in ways she never had been before, always a refreshing change - when he didn't overstep the wretched line only he seemed unable to see. When he stayed within reasonable limits, it was always fun to stretch their knowledge as far as they could and the extent of his memory always astonished her.

He'd finally admitted to his photographic memory - as Maya had suspected early on in his training - and to say she was and continued to be impressed by it was an understatement.

But it also worried her, and she'd made Stephen promise he wouldn't abuse it again. In exchange, she would help him advance his studies past what the masters had intended for him to learn - so long as it was still safe for his progress. She couldn't stress the importance of learning the Mystic Arts with at least some patience: there was so much that could go wrong, so much that could be dangerous not just to Stephen but to the universe itself if he didn't show some restraint.

But it seemed that lesson was going to take much drilling into him - although he had grudgingly improved even in this respect over the last month or so. Something that had only further solidified her affections for him.

'Affections?' Maya repeated to herself, shuddering and rolling onto her back as she made herself more comfortable on her bed. 'Agamotto - next thing you know, my bloody heart will be melting like a schoolgirl.'

It was also around the time that marked Stephen's nine month since arriving at Kamar-Taj that he finally asked the question.

"So, what is there to actually do in Kathmandu? Besides, you know, the Mystic Arts."

Maya looked up from where she was reading a text that Stephen was unable to decipher without the help of Google Translate. Or if Maya deigned to help translate it for him, which was sometimes worth it because she was naturally a better translator than Google (which had once translated a complex spell as 'she daddy now pokemon'). But other times, it was not worth Maya intermittently making jabs at the fact that Americans (her tone when she said it always made him frown petulantly) could only speak one language while most other people in the modern world spoke at least two languages with mild fluency. He knew she didn't really mean it but Maya seemed to get a kick out of making fun of Stephen's own lack of ability to apparently pick up another language.

Sometimes, he wasn't sure why he was friends (sort of) with Maya at all.

Maya tilted her head slightly as she contemplated Stephen's question with a slight frown.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Again wondering why he was (kind of) friends with this woman, Stephen rephrased, "What do you do when you leave Kamar-Taj, for example? Are there, you know, coffee shops that you would recommend, maybe a sandwich place, a temple to visit even if you clearly don't believe in any God, maybe a bar or festival?"

For a moment, Maya stared at him as if he had spouted some alien language. Stephen waited patiently - or as patiently as he could - for some response.

"You do know what a festival is, right?" Stephen asked at last.

Annoyance crossed Maya's expression at that and she snapped, "Of course I know what a festival is."

And there was why Stephen was (maybe) friends with Maya. She hated to lose as much as he did, and despised being wrong or looking like she was ignorant. Perhaps to a fault. But Stephen was well-acquainted with the flaws and the strengths of such traits. It was what had made him the prodigy doctor he had been and he knew it was what had made her, despite how much he sometimes truly did think he despised the fact, a skilled Master of the Mystic Arts.

Besides, he found the way her left eye twitched under her furrowed brows and how her lips pursed into a soft pout whenever he managed to catch her off-guard rather adorable.

"So, is there a festival somewhere around here?" Stephen challenged Maya at last when she didn't say anymore.

Maya bit her lip, her flash of irritation born from injured pride fading as uncertainty took over. Stephen thought that this was really the real reason he found Maya's reactions hilarious and endearing. It was these flashes of the person beneath the Master, the hints of the sweeter young woman Stephen could somewhat imagine Maya had once been under the hard and soured woman she exuded now, that he found himself waiting to see. Wanting to see.

"So...?" Stephen prompted again when Maya still didn't say anything.

"Well..." Maya began stiffly before she trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Stephen waited, at first patient before he slowly raised a brow as Maya seemed to lapse into a permanent silence.

"Don't tell me… you don't know?" Stephen asked in disbelief. "How can you not know? You've lived here practically your whole life!"

The look of annoyance returned and Maya's left eye twitched again.

"We're too busy keeping watch over the safety of the people of this world-!"

Maya began indignantly but Stephen cut her off as he asked skeptically, "So you're too busy looking out for the world that you've never gone out to see it?"

Maya paused, and Stephen knew he was right. He shook his head.

"If you don't know the world that you're protecting, how do you know you're really protecting the right things in it?" Stephen asked.

Maya hesitated, and Stephen knew then just how close they really had become. Some months ago, not only would he have not bothered to ask Maya about anything other than the Mystic Arts, Stephen was positive that Maya would have snapped at him in response to his question. Probably she would have spouted some textbook answer about how the Ancient One's protection was what kept the Earth safe and who was Stephen to question their methods.

Now, however, after a brief struggle in which Maya seemed to be carefully choosing her words, she replied slowly.

"I have peered into many different dimensions across the multiverse that we live in, and I have seen a great variety of cultures and life forms. But across all those worlds, one thing has always remained constant. There are those with power that will prey on the weak and those who would bring ruin to others purely for their own gain. And that is never right. It is against such powers that we protect our world - there is no question about it."

With a sigh, she added quietly, "But you are correct that I have, perhaps, looked at the world from afar for too long."

Stephen digested this information, more contemplative of Maya's tone and her expression than her actual words. He'd heard her spout her (or rather the Ancient One's) ideals on numerous occasions and he had had to listen to her lecture on about why the Mystic Arts were important and why it was critical to respect the laws that ruled it, more times than he liked to count. But this time, he could see Maya and not Master Garthe in the way Maya's eyes traced her own fingers awkwardly as she spoke, the way she held herself a little more stiffly which told Stephen she felt the shame in knowing he was partially right in pointing out her fault in her naivety of the world. And there was also a hint of some sadness, some unidentifiable pain in her gaze as she seemed to sink into her own thoughts. A sorrow that Stephen knew instinctively was not something he was privy to - and he wondered if he ever would be.

Stephen was just wondering if he should steer the topic when Maya seemed to shake herself and she looked up at him once more.

"To answer your original question, there's sometimes a market?" Maya offered although she made it seem more like a question.

It instantly made Stephen dubious and he couldn't help but ask, "And when was the last time you went to this market?"

Maya balked and that was answer enough. Stephen shrugged.

"Oh well, it's still worth a shot." He decided, bounding up on his feet. "Let's go."

Maya stared at him.

"Me?" She asked, looking as taken aback as if Stephen had suggested they go to the North Pole together. In fact, he suspected she would have been less surprised if he'd suggested they cross the universe to fight an evil spirit.

"Yes." Stephen replied, holding out a trembling hand toward Maya. "I can't exactly go alone. I don't even know where this so-called market is, and besides, markets are always better when you go with someone."

"I don't think-" Maya began, looking down at Stephen's hand uncertainly. But he interrupted her.

"Come on, Master Garthe. Learn to live a little." Her eyes flew up to his at his challenging tone. "Or are you scared?"

Maya stiffened before she slowly shut her book.

"Very well." She stood, taking Stephen's hand more out of politeness than necessity. "But Strange?"

"Yeah?" Stephen responded absent-mindedly, his mind already on the market they were about to visit. But his attention was brought sharply back to the present as Maya whirled him to face her, pulling his hand so that he was forced down to her eye-level.

Stephen blinked, shocked at how close he was to her face as Maya stared at him with perfect calm.

"The next time you try to trick me into joining you, you will find yourself very painfully welded to the ground. Are we clear?"

Stephen gulped and Maya let him go and waltzed out of the room.

"Well, come along, Stephen. Don't just dawdle there."

"I don't understand." Maya said as she and Stephen walked away from the vendor stall they'd spent the better part of thirty minutes in front of. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Well, because there are, shall we say, 'bad people' in this world." Stephen answered, finally exasperated as he found their argument going around in circles. "She was one of them."

"But why would he then write about her?"

"Why do poets write about heartbreak and playwrights write about outlandish plots?" Stephen countered and Maya frowned. "There's nothing like drama to get the creativity pumping."

Maya was still frowning and she protested, "But you said he wasn't interested and he wasn't the father. So why would he write a song dedicated to her?"

"Maya," Stephen said at last, exhausted and wondering just how he had gotten to this point. It had all started innocently enough until he'd picked up an LP and Maya had asked him about it. His amusement yet again with her lack of pop culture had quickly evaporated as they debated for over half an hour. "There are many things about Michael Jackson that we question. Billy Jean is just not one of them."

Maya's frown remained.

"That seems silly." She muttered. "People question a singer's choice of pets but not his lyrics?"

Stephen sighed internally, giving up. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her about Jackson's interesting pet choices before she ever really knew who he was. He switched topics, focusing on his growling stomach.

"I'm starving - do you want to stop for dinner?" He questioned and Maya shrugged.

"Sure; although they've probably already served dinner at Kamar-Taj." She replied as she started to turn. Stephen stopped her, looking puzzled.

"No, well, why don't we grab something to eat here?" He asked. "We haven't finished looking around the market anyway."

Maya gave him an odd look.

"What would we pay with?" She asked and Stephen stared at her.

"You… don't have any money?" Stephen asked in disbelief. "How can you come to a market with no money?"

Maya blinked and another thought occurred to him.

"Do you even have… any money?"

Maya shook her head and Stephen threw up his hands.

"How can you have no money?"

"The Ancient One has funds of course but we never need to use it." Maya answered with a shrug. "We grow our own food and we are able to trade for most of the things we need."

"So you just work for her and get no money?"

Maya just shot him a look that was a cross between defensive and teasing.

"You are the last person I should think is allowed to lecture me on the subject of money." She answered. "How did you say you spent your last dollar again?"

"It brought me here, didn't it?" Stephen retorted in a similar manner. "I rather think it was a last dollar well-spent."

"While that may be true, remind me where the rest of your money went?"

Stephen winced, and his gaze flitted down to his hands. Maya paused, realizing she had perhaps taken the joke too far as his hands had always remained a sore spot with Stephen. While tempted to turn away and shift the conversation as both she and Stepehn were wont to do lately, Maya instead quietly took Stephen's hand in both her own.

His eyes lifted to look at her in a mix of surprise and apprehension, and Maya also thought she detected a hint of shame or distaste in the way his hands continued to shake within her steady grasp. Unlike so far in their weird relationship, Maya focused on that part and she looked Stephen in the eye as she spoke softly.

"Do not give up hope, Stephen. Only time will tell whether your hands will heal the way you want them to, but it may be that fate will bring far greater things for you than the ability to wield a scalpel once more."

"Like drawing circles in the air?" Stephen couldn't help the retort even if his voice remained low.

Maya just stared at him steadily before releasing his hands.

"Perhaps." She answered. "But I for one believe that you were meant for bigger things. Don't let that get to your head though."

Stephen couldn't help chuckle as he walked after Maya when she started off down the road once again.

"I never would have thought you would one day be praising me." Stephen teased and Maya smiled.

"As a great author once said, I dare say it's because you haven't had much practice. Some people would believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"Lewis Carroll." Stephen said with no small amount of surprise. And incredulity. "How do you know Lewis Carroll but not Michael Jackson?"

Maya smiled again at his humour while Stephen reflected, "But thank you. I think I needed to hear you say that."

"Needed to be brought down a peg or two?" Maya teased lightly and Stephen laughed as they walked amongst the hustle and bustle of the market-goers. "You are very welcome."

"Christine was quite good at that too, now that I think about it." Stephen reflected. Maya glanced at him.

"This Christine that you speak of… is she the one who gave you that watch? The one that you were so desperate not to lose that you would have become a bag of blood had Karl not come to rescue you?"

Stephen looked at her, unable to hide his surprise.

"Don't give me that look - Karl had a lot to say about you to convince me to teach you." Maya muttered but that wasn't what had surprised Stephen.

"What made you think it was her?" He asked, staring at Maya intently.

"I saw what was written on the back." Maya answered uncomfortably.

At Stephen's renewed surprise, she added defensively, "I wasn't snooping - I came in to wake you that second day you arrived and I saw something flashing on your bedside. I happened to see the engraving when I looked over to see what was reflecting the sunlight and her name was there."

"Oh." Stephen paused before he decided that it wouldn't hurt to tell Maya a little bit more of the truth. Of his past. "Christine gave me that when we first started going out."

Maya glanced at him but didn't comment as Stephen continued.

"I'd just won my first award for a paper I had written. Christine and I were always close, although she would say it's because she was the only person who could stand my big head."

"I think I like her." Maya remarked and Stephen chuckled.

"You would. She didn't put up with any of my bullsh*t either." Stephen smiled as he thought back to those days. "She gave me that gift as a promise and reminder that no matter what, she'd always be there for me."

Maya felt a strange stab in her chest and she wondered if hunger was making her chest hurt. She rubbed it absently while Stephen's eyes lifted to the sky regretfully.

"She was always there for me but I treated her terribly before leaving for Nepal." He admitted softly. "If there was anything I could do over, I…"

He trailed off while Maya also stared off into the distance in silence. His regret had reminded her of her own and the usual dull pain flared in her heart. But there was something else; a new kind of pain. No, not pain exactly - just a strange tightening in her chest that for some inexplicable reason hurt almost as much as the old wound. What it was, she couldn't say - but perhaps this Christine was wise in what she had once written for Stephen. Time would tell all.

The next day saw Maya standing with Mordo and Wong in the Seeing room, observing the cosmic readings on the ceiling while the Ancient One disappeared on another of her mysterious travels.

She had taken many such trips alone in the past, usually to scout for dangers whether in other parts of the world or the multiverse itself, but with Stephen's training well underway she was disappearing increasingly often. Maya suspected she was still searching for Kaecilius, hoping to heed him off before he did whatever he was planning to do. Usually, Maya would argue to go with her but with Stephen at the temple she was forced to cede to the Ancient One's orders to stay. Still, it made Maya huff. All these years and her Ama still chose to work, for the most part, alone.

Their meeting was just wrapping up when it happened.

"And-"

Wong broke off, Mordo and Maya becoming equally as alert as they all felt it. The surge of darker power, inside Kamar-Taj - a power that should not be activated.

"Kaecilius!" Mordo gasped.