Disclaimer: I don't own Sydney and Nigel. I just love playing with them! Please do not reproduce any of this story without my permission.

Dedication: This is for all the nice people who read and reviewed my last two stories.

Note: this is my first attempt at fantasy and time travel, so let's see how it goes! It will contain my usual dose of Syd/Nigel romance and preposterous plot lines, and I'll probably be a bit mean to Nigel (this is never my fault, it's all done by my naughty demon plot bunny – honest). As before, some of the historical references are real, but I've changed some place names and twisted things a bit!

Warrior Princess

By Katy

Was there really ever such as thing as a 'quiet little teaching job'?

After several years experience, Nigel Bailey still dreaded the prospect of a new group of hungry-eyed students. Without exception, they would quickly identify that he was not are yet armed with the intimidating weapons of a PhD and a lectureship. Even at 9.15 a.m., when at least half were likely to be hung-over, if one or two arrogant smart-asses were out to get him, the rest would sullenly and silently fall in line behind them. Then he would have an uphill battle on his hands for the rest of the term.

Not that Nigel had any fear that they could outsmart him. A ringleader might have studied one book, cover to cover, and then recite obscure facts in an attempt to trip him up. They rarely succeeded. This morning, however, as he conducted his first 'Introduction to Ancient Europe' discussion group of the session, Nigel found himself locked in particularly unpleasant form of mental combat. A student, new to the course and the university, Veronica Balwinchie, seemed to be 'out to get him' both intellectually and, far more frighteningly, personally.

She was a tall, raven-haired woman, with a world-weary look that made her seem much older than the rest of her teenage classmates. She'd fixed a pair of piercing green eyes on Nigel as soon as she had entered the room, sweeping in with a confidence more suited to an established scholar than a freshman. Nigel had instantly noted her down as a possible 'difficulty'.

Veronica had been attentive and quiet, however, until about halfway through the session. At this point, having finished his opening remarks on the course, Nigel threw in a comment about the excitement of working with Professor Fox, and how lucky they all were. It was then that Veronica first spoke:

'So, I hear that you often accompany, Professor Fox on her infamous relic hunts, Mr Bailey?'

'Do call me Nigel, please. And, yes, I've been on many. We've made some amazing discoveries. I can go into more detail at the end of the session, if you like?'

'That'll be stimulating, I'm sure. I hear the things you've done in the name of historical research are quite astounding. Will you tell us about that Professor Fox rescued you from those Amazonian warriors-ladies?' As Nigel blushed pinker and pinker, Veronica relayed a list of his most embarrassing and unfortunate relic hunting moments, ending with 'what about the occasion you dressed up as a harem dancer?'

By this time, all of the female members of the class were in uncontained hysterics. The too-cool-to-giggle blokes, who skulked in the back row, were smirking to each other and muttering about what kind of loser would be 'hauled about and rescued by a chick.'

Nigel, now the colour of the beetroot, smiled through gritted teeth and attempted to lure his audience back towards the joys of Ancient Europe with the promise of accounts of Sydney's finer relic hunting moments at the end of the session. To his surprise, the obnoxious Veronica, adhered to this request by firing at him an unexpected question about the government of the Roman colonies in what was now Southern France.

'Actually,' replied Nigel, relieved but suspicious, 'we know relatively little about it. You'll find that Roman chroniclers rarely mentioned even the names of the governors of these provinces, unless they were involved in suppressing a major tribal rebellion. Of course, we can conjecture a great deal about the role of the consuls from what we know about Rome and, although citizens may have had votes, it is doubtful that governments were very democratic… '

'No, they weren't,' interjected Veronica. 'I know for a fact that the governor of the city and province of Nevium around 81 AD was called Agroitus Poculus and he had a ravenous sexual appetite.' Veronica licked her lips provocatively. 'He also liked to indulge such debauchery in others. He used to offer sexual favours from members of his household in exchange for support in the provincial Forum.' She smiled sweetly at Nigel, who was becoming increasingly apprehensive of where this nugget of information was leading, and asked in a breathy voice: 'Would you like to know what kinds of services they offered?'

'Well, err, I'm sure that would be very…um, interesting… did you read about that in a recent journal?' Nigel was flustered, but nobody was now listening to him. The girls had collapsed back into fits of giggles. The lads in the back row clamoured for details and made lewd comments about how they hoped that Professor Fox would be acting this important historical information out in the lectures.

In the end, Nigel wound up the session early, already dreading the prospect of next weeks class. As the students sniggered and scattered, he wondered where on earth Veronica had read about the consul and his sexual favours. He kept up-to-date with all the latest publications, and it was very rare that anything passed him by. He certainly would have remembered an article about that!

He was just gathering his notes, and wondering which direction would be best to depart in so not to encounter too many tittering students, when there was a sharp knock on the door and raven-haired Veronica strode elegantly back in.

'Mr Bailey? I mean, Nigel?'

'Hello, yes, Veronica,' said Nigel jerkily, giving her a begrudging smile. Inside, he was seething. This girl had just made him look like an absolute fool, but he didn't quite know how, or whether, to protest. Besides, he found himself oddly transfixed by her eyes. Alone with her, the icy green glare was even more compelling.

'Nigel, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. It was unfair.'

Nigel gaped a moment. He hadn't expected an apology, and now he didn't know quite how to accept it. 'Oh, it's fine.' No it wasn't. 'I'm used to it!' Why on earth had he said that? Nigel was very conscious that he couldn't stop gawping at her bewitching eyes. He blinked hard, shook his head, and brushed his fingers through his hair in an attempt to pull himself together. Her gaze didn't shift.

'Where did you read about the Consul of Nevium and the, err, funny goings on?' This, slightly embarrassing as it was, was a more comfortable subject than relic hunting just now.

'I have a very interesting source of information that I would like to share with you and Professor Fox.'

'That's fascinating. You're a transfer student, aren't you? Did you work with one the professors at your previous university?'

Veronica gave a glacial smile. Without looking away, she pulled a silver chain out from between her cleavage, on the end of which was mounted a chunky ruby-red stone. Nigel's attention was released from Veronica's stare as he found himself even more absorbed by this new object of interest.

It was as if the whole world had stopped. Nigel did not hear the voices of passers-by in the corridor, the planes overhead, or the cars in the yard outside. There was nothing beyond him, Veronica and the stone. He slowly reached out his hand towards it.

'Egyptian,' murmured Nigel. 'It dates from at least 1400 BC…'

His fingers, as if drawn by a magnet, landed lightly on their mark between Veronica's breasts. Next, the room spun and melted into a thousand colours as what felt like a bolt of molten lightning struck through his body.

Veronica tucked the necklace safely back down the front of her blouse, and left an empty room alone.

………………………..

A few minutes earlier, Sydney had been reading a very interesting volume on the use of Voodoo to control male victims during Amazonian mating rituals, when she was interrupted by an unannounced visitor.

Sharp suited and wearing a slick pair of shades, Derek Lloyd was through the door and into the office before Karen had a chance to intercept.

'Professor Fox, we meet again,' said Derek, flashing his cheesiest grin.

'Derek Lloyd,' stated Sydney with a grimace, 'you never did learn how to knock, did you?'

'And I'm very pleased to see you too, Sydney.' Derek was not easily deterred.

Sydney had risen from her desk and perched herself around the front, arms folded. 'Whatever it is, Derek, I'm not doing it. Its the start of term, I'm up to my ears in lectures and classes, and next weekend I'm off to Outer Mongolia to search for the lost truncheon of Genghis Khan. There just isn't room for you in my schedule, right now.'

'Believe it or not, Sydney,' said Derek animatedly, 'I am here to help you.'

Sydney raised her eyebrows. 'I do find that hard to believe. Could you elaborate?'

Derek pulled a photograph from the inside of his jacket. 'Do you recognise this woman?'

Sydney surveyed the image of a strikingly handsome young woman with long dark hair. 'Yes, that's Veronica Balwinchie. She's a transfer student. I haven't had much to do with her yet, although she asked a particularly perceptive question in the first lecture. It's strange that I should remember her for just that, though…' There was something about the young woman's face that Sydney found unsettling.

Derek tucked the picture away again. 'Thank you Professor Fox. Are you aware that this is the sixth university that Miss Balwinchie has enrolled at in three years?'

Sydney frowned. 'She switched from a West Coast university, specifically to study my course. Her credentials were excellent.'

'They always are.' Derek chuckled humourlessly. 'Let me get to the point. Senior members of the historical faculty have disappeared from each of these six universities. All of them were renowned for their knowledge of relics in the ancient world, although none of them had your prowess in finding them.'

Sydney nodded in recognition. She'd heard of some mysterious disappearances among academic circles lately. None had been renowned relic hunters. They were more the bookworm types.

'The only thing that my people can find to link their disappearances is the presence of Veronica Balwinchie. There's absolutely nothing to pin a crime on her at the moment, but I warn you, Professor, she may be dangerous.'

Alarm shimmered across Sydney's face. 'Nigel is teaching her 'Introduction to Ancient Europe' class right now.'

Derek shook his head. 'I'm afraid he's toast, then,' he said deadpan, then slapped Sydney on the arm with a joyful chortle. 'Don't worry, Sydney, even Nigel can't get abducted in front of a classroom of students!'

Sydney responded with a thin smile. 'I think I'll go and check on him, anyway,' she decided. 'Maybe I'll catch a word with this Veronica and see if I can find out anything about what happened at the last university.'

'That would be helpful,' replied Derek. 'Hey, don't tell Nige I'm here. I want it to be a nice little surprise!'

'I'm sure he'll be thrilled,' said Sydney sarcastically. She departed the office, leaving Derek carelessly thumbing a pile of papers that she'd rather he didn't.

………………..

When Sydney reached room 207, where Nigel had been teaching, it was completely empty apart from a pile of notes left on a table at the front. Going over to peruse them, she recognised that they were in Nigel's neat handwriting, well-organised and colour-coded as ever. Her anxiety returned: Nigel would never leave his papers lying about unless he had left unexpectedly.

This thought was interrupted by the sensation that she was being watched. Looking up startled, Sydney saw the tall, raven-haired form of Veronica Balwinchie.

She opened her mouth to inquire what had become of Nigel, but somehow the words got lost. Instead, she was riveted by the piercing emerald of the girl's eyes.

'Nigel Bailey went to look for you,' said Veronica, pre-empting Sydney's inquiry. 'I showed him something and he got very excited. He said you must see it immediately.'

Sydney shook her head rapidly, trying to force away the hazy stupor that was engulfing her. 'What did you show him?' she asked. Her voice sounded lethargic.

'This.' Veronica took several steps closer across the room and unbuttoned the top of her shirt, revealing the chain and the stone. Sydney found her hand involuntarily drawn towards the beautiful relic, but pulled it back, inner strength checking her. Still, she was transfixed.

'14th or 15th century BC,' she murmured, 'Probably Egyptian…'

'Please,' entreated Veronica, lifting the stone on its chain from her breast and offering it in Sydney's direction. 'You must feel it. It's so smooth, so powerful.'

Sydney hesitated. Something wasn't right, and she knew it. Still, a niggling voice in her head was telling her there could be no harm in touching it, just the once. She watched her hand, as if it was someone else's, reach forward and touch the stone. Next came the swirling bright colours and lightning.

Once again, Veronica left the empty room alone.