Dislaimers: as before.

Warning: Roman orgy, sexual stuff but nothing too explicit!

To Sydney and Nigel's surprise, after he revealed his identity, the consul showed boundless hospitality. Indeed, he invited them back to his house to speak to him about whatever they chose. The only condition, he insisted, was that they left business until tomorrow and agreed to be his special guests at a party he was giving that evening for a 'few good companions'.

Sydney accepted the invitation gushingly, and said that she and Quintus, as Nigel had now introduced himself, would be honoured to stay.

They were guided to a particular grand villa. Its door opened into a hall decorated with the most spectacular mosaics, mainly depicting men and women in various stages of undress and engaged in various sorts of courting activities. Nigel remembered what Veronica has taught him about Consul Agroitus Poculus and wondered nervously, although not without a hint of excitement, exactly what the evening might have in store.

Sydney took everything in her stride, including the suggestive comments Agroitus let slip as he walked beside her. She rewarded him, for now, with a coy giggle. It wasn't yet time to show him who was the real warrior princess.

……………………

For Nigel, the evening got underway quite pleasantly. He in Sydney were shown to a large dining room, in which he was allotted his own, rather comfortable, couch. Sydney didn't seem to get her own, but perched on the end as he reclined. After a while, a few other couples began to arrive, and then some soldiers and some apparently single women. Slaves began to bring around silver platters of various delicacies, including oysters, olives and cheese. Ignoring Nigel, they offered the dishes to Sydney who piled high an earthenware plate, and then knelt down in front of him.

'Is this for me?' enquired Nigel delightedly. 'How kind!'

Sydney glanced around the room. 'It seems to be the custom for the women to serve their husbands.' She plucked a plump red grape off a large bunch. 'Open wide, Nigel.'

'No! I'm not a two-year-old. It'll look ridiculous. Won't it?' Nevertheless, as he surveyed the scene he observed that the other husbands and wives seemed to be enjoying this little ritual. After a hesitation, Nigel opened his mouth. Although he felt incredibly silly, he reasoned that there was much worse ways to get fed them by the fair hands of Sydney Fox. Sydney popped the grape in his mouth, her fingers brushing on his lips for a moment.

'Thank you,' said Nigel, still embarrassed. Sydney picked up a piece of cheese and repeated the procedure. This time her fingers lingered slightly longer, brushing down the side of his face as they retreated. 'Thanks,' said Nigel hastily. Sydney wondered if he was finding this as strangely erotic as she was.

A woman entered the room carrying a high pottery urn and began pouring wine into tall, glass goblets. 'Would you like some wine, husband dear?' asked Sydney, her eyes glinting with mischief.

'Maybe I shouldn't,' replied Nigel rapidly. He was finding everything quite as exciting as Sydney was, and would have loved some wine. Nevertheless, he was terrified of making a fool of himself.

Elsewhere, however, the plonk was flowing freely. 'I think it would look a bit odd if we didn't drink any at all,' said Sydney, rising and beckoning over the serving girl.

Once in possession of two full glasses, she handed one to Nigel. 'I think you'd better do this yourself, my love,' she said with a wink. 'I don't want to spill it down your nice white tunic.'

Well, if she insisted! Nigel took healthy gulp. Like all true Englishmen in a stressful situation, he found a great comfort in alcohol. The liquid was unexpectedly sweet, more like Port than modern wine, and filled his mind with images of peasant maidens in voluminous blouses treading freshly harvested grapes. It had a kick like vodka. Nigel liked it.

He was about halfway down the goblet, when Sydney, who had had perched herself down on the couch in front of him, placed her hand on the glass and pried it away. 'Take it easy, Nigel. I think the action is only just beginning.'

The wine had certainly triggered some interesting reactions among their fellow guests. Some of the 'single ladies' seemed to have inadvertently slipped out of their loosely fitting clothing and were now draping themselves around the bodies of the Roman soldiers. Some of the married couples also seem to have discovered that there was plenty of room for two to recline quite happily on the couches.

'Oh my God,' said Nigel, hoping he sounded disgusted. 'I think they're starting an orgy!'

'Well, we've been to one before, haven't we?'

'You mean that time in Rome when you…. well, you know what we did!'

Sydney reclined forward on the sofa, nudging Nigel up against the back of the couch. There was certainly room for two. She cupped her chin in her hand. 'What was it you said that we did?' she teased. 'Our bodies were rubbing and pressing together, were they?'

'No…no. There was none of that. Certainly not,' Nigel shrank back into the corner as much as he could in order to minimise their current rubbing and pressing.

'Oh relax, Nigel,' soothed Sydney, the arm which wasn't supporting her chin snaking its way around the back of his neck and shoulders. 'That time we had to worry about rescuing Claudia and fighting off some Neanderthal as well as finding a relic. Besides, it wasn't even a proper Roman orgy. Consider this fieldwork. You said what we find out here could revolutionise the social history of the ancient world, remember?'

'This wasn't exactly what I had in mind.' Before Sydney could intervene, Nigel drained the rest of his glass of wine. While the rest of the world around him grew slightly hazy, he became acutely aware of the presence of Sydney's fingers which had sneaked under the top of his toga and were gently brushing his shoulder.

He blessed his employer with a rather clownish smile, which Sydney reciprocated and then drained her own glass with abandon. The next thing Nigel knew, her bare toes were running up the side of his legs as she folded one of her long legs forward, snaking it around his. It tickled, and Nigel gave a nervous giggle. Her face was now just inches from his, reflections of candlelight shimmering in her deep brown eyes.

'They do say,' whispered Sydney, ''when in Rome…''

Even with his senses departing him, and part of him aching to see exactly what Sydney was willing to do 'when in Rome,' Nigel decided this was all going far too fast. He sat bolt upright, removing himself from intimate proximity to lips he would very much liked to have kissed.

'Syd. Isn't this is all a bit, well, fast?' The room seemed hazy, even though nobody was smoking.

'Relax, Nigel, have some fun!' Nigel stared down at her, his eyes wide once again. What was she suggesting? 'Look, I promise I won't let you do anything you'll regret in the morning. But haven't you always wanted to go to a party like this?'

Nigel shrugged and conceded that the thought might have crossed his mind, but only in his fantasies. It was one of those occasions that he never expected to encounter in reality and he really didn't want to do anything he regretted.

'Get up,' ordered Sydney suddenly.

'What did I do wrong now?' bewailed Nigel. He extracted his legs from between hers and raised himself from the couch as she moved out of the way. He was only standing for an instant when, just as abruptly, Sydney grabbed him by the toga and pulled him back down so he was lying in front of her. She entwined him in her arms, resting his head against her chest. Nigel, who so far had not resisted any of this, opened his mouth to protest and then checked himself. What exactly was there to complain about? Glancing around the room, he noticed they were in a far less compromising position than any other of the other couples, trios and various groupings who were taking their pleasure around them.

Besides, he had rarely felt as comfortable as he did now, resting on such a warm, soft pillow. Unsure what exactly was required of him next on this fieldwork trip, Nigel observed that one of the slave girls had refilled his glass, which was now within his reach on a small wooden table. He took a healthy gulp.

Sydney did not try and stop him. Extracting one arm from her quarry she took another sip herself, drinking in the sights and sounds of the room. Nothing shocked Sydney Fox, but this certainly was quite a party. In the background somewhere, a slave had started strumming away at a lute, the notes intermingling with the voices and laughter of the merrymakers. Nigel was watching too, but, with one of her arms still encircling him, Sydney could feel that he was still not quite comfortable in his new position. What would it take for him to relax, she wondered?

'Come on, Nigel,' she murmured, 'we might as well enjoy the show. Fieldwork, remember?' With her free hand, she began massaging one of his shoulders. Nigel let out a moan that might just have been one of pleasure. Sydney found this surprisingly rewarding. 'Relaxed, now?' Sydney plucked another juicy grape and popped it in his mouth. This time he received the gift enthusiastically and licked her departing fingers. Sydney was unsure if this was accidental or deliberate.

Nigel was indeed starting to feel a little bit too relaxed, as the potent effects of the wine seeped through his body. It all seemed unreal; surely this was a dream, and therefore he could do what he liked? He downed another glass of wine.

Next time, when Sydney placed a piece of cheese in his mouth, she found that her fingers were not just licked but momentarily detained in his moist lips. 'Nigel!' she exclaimed, semi-shocked, half pleased. Nigel looked up at her with a cheeky grin that bordered on the wicked.

'Hello, my Warrior Princess!' he growled in an unfamiliar, feral tone. His face was flushed and his eyes slightly glazed. He was absolutely plastered.

Nigel reached up and seized her face within his two hands. He then pulled her lips to hers, and plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. 'When in Rome!' thought Sydney, as she willingly reciprocated. Their bodies rolled together on the couch, and Sydney found herself right on top of him. One of his hands was tangled in her long, silky hair and the other seemed to be drifting dangerously towards her breasts.

As her own hands sensually caressed him, she awkwardly recalled her promise that she wouldn't let him do anything he regretted in the morning. Reluctantly, she released him, and pushed herself up on her arms. Nigel flopped back against the couch, panting and excited.

'Nigel, you won't regret this in the morning, will you?'

'Not for a second, my Boadicea,' slurred Nigel, and launched himself up at her, arms outstretched. Sydney had little choice but to receive him as he flung his limbs around her. Nigel then groaned and jolted back down onto the couch, dragging her with him, and ceased to move. As Sydney extracted herself, she realised that the alcohol had got the better of him, and Nigel was out for the count.

More to come. Please review – let me know if you like it or not! Thanks.