The 4 boxes.

Disclaimer-I'm not sure who relic hunter belongs to, but I'm damn sure it's not me!

Summary-4 boxes affect Sydney and Nigel's behaviour.

PG/PG-13

Feedback- Yes please!! I try to thank everyone who reviews in the author's notes, but if I forget you, tell me and I'll apologise.

Author's notes- This is my first Relic Hunter Fanfic, I love the show, but had difficulty finding much fanfiction, so I decided to add my own. This will be a Sydney/Nigel story.

Thank you: snaggle, dwgle, N, Beth, jennzabell, Isabelle Dudley(sorry about the watermelon) Hidden, Bil, Marianne, and Cat.

***********

The room swam into focus. No matter how hard she stared it didn't stop swimming, she felt like she was on an underwater roller-coaster. With a hangover.

Her head pounded, she felt like she was going insane with noise. Snippets of conversation attacked her from all sides, barely even muffled by the doors and walls. It was like playing three c.d's backwards at full volume.

The air around her smothered her, it felt like she was buried in sand, every movement in the air. Behind her there was a regular blast of air that hit the back of her neck every half-second or so. The regular blasts hit her neck like a blow from a hammer. She tried to move her head to protect her neck, but moving just an inch seemed like a painfully slow and tiring process. That would be the flu she reminded herself.

If yesterday had been bad, today was worse, her flu didn't feel as awful, but everything else did. She realised that this was why humans didn't have as great sight as say a hawk, or the smell capacity of a dog or cat. The brain just couldn't handle the messages it received.

It felt like she had always imagined being psychic would be, because people think so many things all at once that hearing any more than your own thoughts would be totally and utterly confusing, not to mention giving you a major headache. There was just no way of controlling it, so her brain couldn't handle all the extra information. As a result, her eyes hurt from the brightness of the colours, her skin hurt from the pressure around her, and her mind was hurting from the mixture of smells it was receiving. Had someone died next door? Not to mention being deafened from the noise and having the most disgusting taste in her mouth.

There was also someone else with her. She just knew. Was it the flu thinking? Could she really trust her senses right now? She was pretty certain though, all her senses, with the exception of sight (because her eyes were shut) and taste were telling that someone was lying next to her.

She doubled over when the pain hit her. Had all the stuff she'd just thought been a hallucination and she was really in the middle of a torture chamber? It felt exactly like someone had stuck a ten ton weight on her stomach; surely nothing could be that heavy could it? She risked the pain that the flu caused her limbs and the pounding that opening her eyes caused and moved to look at what was causing her suffering.

It was an arm. One that was wrapped around her waist in a supposedly gentle gesture. Hang on, whose arm was it? Her mind was feeling hazy, there was so much information coming in, she could barely remember the old information. Nigel! That was who it was. He's stayed, of course.

"Nigel!" She hissed. He didn't react in any way. The steady breathing on the back of her neck and the deafening rumble of him breathing in and out attested to the fact that he was still asleep.

"Nigel, wake up!" She hoped that he wasn't feeling as awful as she was. But if he wasn't it would be a great help because she wouldn't have to suffer the pain it caused to yell. "Nigel! WAKE UP!"

"YagHH!" He removed his arm and sat up suddenly. She couldn't force the scream that his yelling caused her back. It was so loud she felt like her eardrums would explode.

"OWW!"

"GAAHH!"

"STOP YELLING!"

"I WILL IF YOU WILL!" There was an almighty jolt as he collapsed back against the bed his hands against his ears. They really needed to talk, but a normal conversation would be nigh on impossible in this state. She lowered her voice so that it was less than a whisper. She stopped the sounds as soon as they got through her voice box; she knew he'd hear though.

"This is getting worse. We're in no state to go on a hunt; we're in no state to leave the room." There was quietness, at least the lack of Nigel's voice.

"How's your flu?" This was better, at least no-one was yelling. In this room at least, three rooms down a man and his mistress were having a particularly bad fight, to do with the fact he still hadn't left his wife. Not that she was enjoying this at all, but she would miss the ability to eavesdrop.

"I'm not sure, it's kinda hard to tell with the senses thing." with a bit of effort she turned around, this cased her to roll into Nigel slightly. Her forehead rested just under his neck.

"Do you feel that you're being smothered by the oxygen?" He murmured.

"Yeah." She groaned.

"It's not the flu then." He added helpfully. She was careful not to put any limbs on top of him and considering the flinch she'd cased when her hand had accidentally been rested on his chest he was returning the compliment. If breathing on each other hurt being in someone else's arms could break bones.

Even so, it felt nice to be so close to Nigel, with the exception of the last few days, she didn't get much chance to really be in close contact with him. When physical feelings were assaulting your brain, it didn't leave much room for emotional ones. Once this was all over though, they needed to have a proper talk; she just couldn't cope with a meaningful talk right now. She might not have to much control over what was said.

There was a burning feeling in her throat.

"What?"

She realised she must have giggled; suddenly she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"I don't think we've ever spent as much time in bed together as we have this week." She didn't need enhanced senses to know that all the blood was rushing to his face.

"O-oh! Sorry! I forgot, s-sorry, I-I'll go." He started shuffling about to get out of bed. There was a feeling like an earthquake from the mattress.

"No!" She said that a little louder than necessary. Both brought their hand up to their ears.

He stopped moving.

"We, we need a plan." She felt a little silly in saying it, she was keeping a very careful reign on her mouth, and nothing out of the ordinary was going to be said on her watch. It didn't help that her mind was filled with the more smutty images from the last few days. If senses were enhanced what the hell would sex be like? Her mind was lost in thought about it.

She lost concentration for a little bit, she managed to refrain form saying any of this out loud though, she might not be able to guess which was the blood would go that time. Would it be worth it to find out though? After a brief mental struggle she kept her mouth firmly closed.

"What do you think?" She jumped, he hissed in pain.

"Nothing! Not about anything sexy anyway." She realised how stupid she must have sounded and contrived to look intelligent, in control and in no way aroused.

"Glad to hear it." He was unable to mask the dryness. She wondered if it was a quality of every British person. Yes! British people, think about that! Not about the sexy accents of course, more importantly not about Nigel. Um, Tea, Earl Grey, Brolly's, what are they anyway? She'd have to ask Nigel, No! No Nigel, err, the queen, Prince William, that odd Prime Minister, pigeons, Scotland Yard, Rain, the Beatles, The Spice girls, Preston Bailey, Nigel's brother, Nigel. Arggh! Odd British words, loo, shag, not Nigel though, um Red buses, Trafalgar square. Oh hang on, Nigel was sating something. No Nigel.

Is it okay to think about Nigel if he's saying something that is probably important to you?

"-normal relic hunt after all."

"Huh?" She looked apologetic for not listening. Half of her didn't want to be taken from trying not to think about Nigel, when se was failing not to think about him, she wasn't concentrating on her senses.

"I said it's not really a normal relic hunt."

"Yeah. I get the feeling that we're being messed about with, like we're being taken to the next level but only after we've been a source of entertainment for them." She felt pleased she could add something through the veil of Nigel thoughts.

He blushed again, obviously wondering whether they were being watched and if so, how much had they seen? She didn't relish the idea of someone seeing them for the past few days either.

"Suddenly bad luck doesn't sound so bad." He muttered. She had to smile a little at that. She couldn't help but feel that things weren't so very bad. They may be a little uncomfortable, but they weren't bad.

"Yeah, I mean-" She noticed that Nigel A) wasn't looking at her, and B) was frowning.

"What?" She whispered, not having the energy to turn.

"When did you put the box on your side of the bed?" She pushed back the dizziness at actually having a 'her' side of the bed to answer him calmly.

"I didn't it's still on your side." They met each other's eyes.

"Oh. Shit."

"Bloody Hell."

************

I hope that was a bit longer, and I promise I will update sooner, I swear. Next chappy we find out what the final box does.

As always, anyone wants to write a NC-17 or R version of this chapter, feel free. Tell me though in a review, I would like to read it.

Thank you for reading, please review.