Disclaimers: as before.

Thank you to everybody who has reviewed so far.

If the drop had been just a little less, Sydney would have vaulted right over the bridge in her haste to pound her enemy senseless. As it was, she rushed off at a frantic pace to find a way down, leaving a rather confused Mrs. Tadman calling after her, 'Is everything all right, my dear?'

Finding some small steps, not far off, Sydney bolted down onto the muddy beach back towards the bridge.

She didn't like the look of the situation she discovered. Underneath the first arch of the bridge, out of sight to the passers-by on the embankment, stood Bellimo, hands on hips and looking incredibly smug. Next to him was a large man with lank, long blonde hair, a big grin and Nigel firmly in his grip. One muscled arm was fastened tightly around her assistant's neck. With the other hand, the thug held a gun to Nigel's head. Tethered to the far side of the arch, where the flow of the river reached, was a speedboat, with the engine prepped and running.

'Sorry, Syd,' wheezed Nigel, clawing at his captors arm. If anything, he looked more embarrassed and guilty than frightened.

Sydney racked her brain for a good plan, glancing about for anything that could aid her. Nothing sprang instantly to mind. 'Okay, Sydney, go with the flow?' she thought uncertainly to herself.

'Let him go, Bellimo. I'll get you the locket, and you can leave.'

'Not good enough, Miss Fox,' replied her adversary. 'You have made me look a fool, which is something I hate. Your young friend here, on the other hand, has not only made me look a fool by escaping, but he also lied to me and has cost me millions in the sale price of some of my most valuable items.'

'Yeah, I'm proud of him. Now let him go, you bastard.'

'I killed Tadman for causing me far less trouble! No, he doesn't get away with it that easily. He's coming with me until I have been recompensed for all the stock that I lost.' Tadman paused and nodded slowly. 'Yes, that's your job, my little vixen. I want you to do what you do best, find relics, but find them for me. I'll keep him alive until I'm satisfied I've got back more than I lost, then I might let him go.'

'Syd!' Nigel had forgotten his embarrassment, and now just looked plain scared. Sydney glanced in his direction, trying to pass him an encouraging vibe. With the henchman's gun pressed against her assistants' temple, she dared not try anything yet. The glare she subsequently gave Bellimo was drenched with pure hatred.

'What you want me to do,' said Sydney, sourly.

'Well, there's an offer!' Bellimo was clearly enjoying himself. 'Let's start with this damned locket. We won't include it in the overall payback, of course, but it might ensure that Nigel here is relatively well treated until you start on your real work.'

'Fine', said Sydney. It dawned on her that she might be able to make an opportunity of this. 'If you could release my assistant…'

'Uh, uh,' said Bellimo, waggling his finger. 'Bately, here, likes to keep hold of him.'

Sydney could see that. Nigel was now held so tightly against Bately's body, that he was choking for air. The vicious grin on the gunman's face had remained throughout the whole proceedings. She had to get Nigel away from that guy.

'Surely it's obvious that he knows more about this relic than I do? You've got to let him speak, at least.'

Bellimo nodded, and Bately loosened his hold. Nigel took a gasp of air, coughed and then said huskily, 'Syd, Emma Hamilton's initials, they're carved on one of the stones of the arch, over there.' He indicated with a slight movement of his hand to a stone, on the inside of the arch.

Sydney went over to the spot. At first she could see nothing among the mishmash of more modern graffiti but then, sure enough, she spotted the initials E.H, boldly carved into the stone itself. Using eyes and hands, she searched for some indication of a compartment near or behind them. There was no obvious lever, so she tried pressing the initials in several combinations of ways. Nothing. She then knocked on the stone. There was no hollow ring that indicated a hidden space behind.

'There must be something else,' she turned and looked Bellimo directly in the eyes, trying to conceal her contempt. 'Please, I really need Nigel's help over here.'

'Hmm,' said Bellimo, clearly toying the idea over. 'Please,' said Sydney ' I can't do this alone.'

If the master criminal had noticed that, when saying the words ' I can't do this alone', Sydney had looked directly at Nigel, he might not have relented. However, at that moment he also had turned his attention to the man he now regarded as the cause of all his troubles. Nigel had barely moved since Bately loosened his grip, apart from attempting, only partially successfully, to inch his body away from Bately's. His eyes were darting rapidly between Sydney, and the hated Bellimo.

'He looks suitably terrified', thought Bellimo. 'Surely he knows better than of to try anything now?'

'Okay, Bately, let him go to her. If they try anything, shoot them both.' Bately's lip curled in disgust, but he obeyed his boss. He relinquished his prey by giving him a hefty shove in the direction of Sydney. As before, Nigel slipped forward and lost his balance. He landed with a splat on his hands and knees, covering both he and Sydney with spots of grey-brown mud.

Sydney didn't flinch as her stylish, black clothes were desecrated. 'Sorry,' whispered Nigel, as he shuffled in close to her. ' I mean, sorry about everything. I've let my guard down, again… I was a bit tipsy. Actually, I think I still am… ' He gave her a guilty half-smile. Sydney looked at him, curiously. He had looked sober enough a minute ago. Who wouldn't be? Now, however, despite the fact that their situation had improved very little, Nigel seemed strangely skittish, almost relaxed.

'There's nothing to be sorry about,' she whispered. Then she added in an even softer tone which their persecutors certainly could not hear, 'just don't do anything silly. Follow my lead.'

'Shut up or he dies,' Bately stepped in right behind them and cocked the pistol, which was trained at the back of Nigel's head. Nigel swallowed hard, but still managed to give Sydney another awkward smile as a response to her instruction.

'Okay! We know,' snapped Sydney, in reply to Bately. ' Nigel, do you see anything conspicuous?'

Nigel surveyed the wall, from top to bottom. No clues were instantly forthcoming. Nevertheless, after a couple of minutes he spotted a compelling line of graffiti, right at the bottom of the wall. Scratched into the stone, the words weren't in keeping with the political sentiments, or the mindless prattle, of the rest. He ran his finger along it, indicating to Sydney. She read:

Make no deep scrutiny

Into her mutiny

Sydney guessed that it was another line from the poem that had led them to the bridge, and that Nigel recognised it. She looked at him quizzically, but he pursed his lips and gave an almost indiscernible shake of the head. He obviously didn't want to tell Bellimo he had made a breakthrough.

This pro-action by Nigel concerned Sydney. Surely he knew she would get them out of this? She was just waiting for an opportunity to make a move where he wouldn't instantly be killed. She was all in favour of her teaching assistant using his initiative, as he often did. Right then, however, she would have preferred if he reserved it for when the stakes were less high and he was, well, less inebriated.

Nigel, however, missed Sydney's warning expression as he had turned to speak to Bellimo. 'Do you still have the book?'

'It's in the boat.'

'Can I see it? It might have a clue.'

Bellimo frowned, but after a moment agreed to get it. 'But if nothing comes of it,' he added, 'you and I, and your friend Bately, are clearing out and leaving your professor to get on with it.'

Nigel nodded. Bellimo waded out into the grimy shallows, and retrieved the book from the motorboat. Sydney anxiously searched for her chance, but Bately still had the gun aimed unwaveringly at Nigel. She just couldn't risk it.

Bellimo handed Nigel the book. Nigel gazed at its cover unseeingly for a second, and then turned to Sydney. 'I can't do this alone,' he intoned deliberately, then whispered a further three words so quietly that only Sydney, who could read his lips, could understand them: 'I love you.'

'Oh my God!' Sydney didn't vocalise her reaction, but her mind and heart were racing. She had no time to absorb the magnitude of his words. He was going to do something rash! She had to act quickly.

'Aaaaaaaaaaah' moaned Sydney, and fainted dramatically into the sludge.

'What the hell, woman?' Bellimo rushed to her side, his motivation anger rather than sympathy. At the same instant, the gun flew from the hand of his henchmen, smote from it by a large, 19th-century leather book, swung by Nigel with all his strength. Bately's attention had shifted to Sydney for just a split-second, and Nigel had taken his chance.

Sydney's thrusting, well-aimed kick caught Bellimo square on the jaw, sending him flying back into the dingy shallows with a splash. Nigel dived for the gun, and had his hands wrapped around tightly it when Bately hurled his not inconsiderable bulk straight on top of him. Nigel's breath was half knocked out of him and he felt a painful crunch in his ribs. He kept a desperate grip on the pistol, but could feel Bately's meaty hands prying his fingers away from it.

With Bellimo still floundering in the river, Sydney moved to propel herself into the fray. She was too late. Bately wrested the gun from Nigel, backhanded him across the face, and clambered to his feet. Sydney froze. The gun was aimed straight at her heart.

'If either of you move again, I pull the trigger.'

Nigel, lying at Bately's feet, realised that as he was one out of the gunman's sightline, he had the best chance of stopping him. But what could he do? He raised his eyes upwards, pleading silently for some divine intervention. In doing so, he became aware that, in their struggle, he and Bately had edged out from under the cover of the archway. They were quite visible to a little old woman who was leaning over the side of the bridge with a steely determined look on her face.

Mrs Tadman's weighty, fake leather handbag, projected with some force, hit Bately square on the top of the head. Nigel seized his legs, toppling him as he pulled the trigger in alarm. The bullet skimmed the edge of Sydney's sleeve, ricocheted off the bridge, and hit Bellimo in the middle of his right thigh.

The conman, who had just hauled himself from the river, let out a hoarse cry and fell back in the water with a splash.

Bately gaped in horror at his mistake. Before he had a notion what to do next, he heard the scream of sirens and the screech of brakes. The gun thudded dully onto the ground as the Metropolitan police poured down onto the dingy riverbank.

……………..

The scene of their nightmare, under arches of Waterloo Bridge, wasn't particularly a place to which Sydney Nigel wanted to return. However, there was unfinished business. At sunset that evening, after they had been checked in and checked out of both a police station and a hospital, they found themselves back in the very same spot.

Nigel relocated the words of the poem on the wall, guided by torchlight and the dimly flicking lamps of the embankment. 'Make no deep scrutiny, Into her mutiny,' he read to herself. 'What was she trying to say?'

'Not to think too hard,' said Sydney contemplatively. ' I doubt she's set any traps, or made any hidden compartment. This was a desperate woman, on the verge of ending her life.'

'Do you think she just buried it in the mud?'

'I think she might have. I'm afraid we're going to have to get dirty again.'

Nigel smiled resignedly. 'That's okay, Syd. Sometimes its fun getting dirty with you… I mean, well…you know what I mean!'

'I think I do, Nigel,' said Sydney with a wide-eyed laugh

They began to scrape away the mud underneath the verse with their hands. After a few minutes, by which time their clothes were as splattered as they had been earlier, Sydney struck what appeared to be the top of a small metal box.

Neither said a word. Their eyes glowed with excitement, and they shared knowing smiles.

Moments later, Nigel held the box in his hands. It was sealed with a delicate lock, which it was evident it would take little force to break.

'Are you going to open it, then?' said Sydney, expectant.

Nigel hesitated. 'When I first realised we could be on the trail of this relic, it… ignited something within me. Everything it stood for was exciting: passion, romance…love. More than anything, I wanted to find it… with you. '

With a crash of her heart, Sydney realised it was showdown time. There was little chance that anyone was going to come to her rescue. She was going to have to stop these embarrassing demonstrations that Nigel kept making to her, or she was going to have to… do what? She found that she didn't want to stop him, not yet.

'That was then, what about now?'

'I don't know', said Nigel slowly. 'What would it mean to you?'

'That's not fair,' Sydney thought, panicked. 'Why did Nigel seem to be the calm one?' She searched her heart for an honest answer, which, when it came to her, did not shock her as she thought it might. She gently placed her hands on top of his, as they grasped the box.

'I've known a lot of romance, Nigel, whatever it is, and I've certainly known far too much passion. But love…'

She looked up from the box and deep into Nigel's imploring eyes. ' I'm not sure I've ever really known what love is. And… if you want to find this relic with me, because you love me, then…'

'Then?' Nigel's voice was tinged with despondency.

'Then… you make me happier than I've ever deserved to be.'

The box dropped into the mud, forsaken once again, as they fell into each other's arms.

………….

The contents of the box, examined in the torchlight, did not disappoint. It was a veritable treasure trove, full of plundered jewellery from the 19th century and before. There was no mistaking Lady Hamilton's locket. It was truly beautiful, and the sparkle of the Diamond left no doubt that it was worth a great deal of money. On the back, it was engraved with its legendary title, San Josef. Inside there were two strands of hair. One was a sandy grey-blonde, and the other a raven black. They were clearly Nelson's and Lady Hamilton's. Sydney and Nigel did not touch them, agreeing that they should stay there, entwined together for all eternity.

One item, beyond the locket, excited Sydney and Nigel particularly. It was a ring, inscribed with the distinctive insignia of Marie Antoinette and inscribed in minute writing as being from her love, Count Ferson. They decided that Mrs Tadman's ancestor's lover had probably stolen it. He had, after all, been a master thief.

'What a coincidence,' mused Sydney. 'In the end, we found relics belonging to at least two sets of legendary lovers. ' By now, they had placed the little box safely in Sydney's bag and made their way out of the gloom and up onto the bridge. About a third of the way across, where the view down the river in the direction of St Paul's was finest, Nigel stopped and placed his hand gently on Sydney's arm.

'Syd… we've got to talk. Where do we go from here?' she let his hand slip up towards her back, until his arm encircled her shoulders and his fingers entangled themselves in her long, silky hair.

'Nigel, I've got to admit, I really don't know!' Sydney laughed affectionately.

Nigel gazed up towards the floodlit cathedral, and then back at the woman he adored. He thought about how he had wanted to show Sydney around London, so he could take the lead. Maybe this was the moment?

He had hesitated too long. Sydney hurled both her arms around her teaching assistant, crushing him to her body, and plunging into a deep, wild and amorous kiss.

'Ow! Mind my ribs… two of them are cracked already, remember?' moaned Nigel breathlessly, once he was allowed break off for air.

'Sorry,' said Sydney, 'you were very brave earlier,' she added.

'Yes, but you know I was drunk,' replied Nigel. Sydney giggled, and was secretly pleased. She didn't want Nigel changed too much. He wouldn't be, well, Nigel. Still, she knew that he would always come through for her when she needed him.

'Well, as I said, I'm sorry.' She reached out and ran her fingers gently across his cheek. 'But I suddenly realised how much I wanted to kiss you.'

'I think the pain was worth it, then,' confided Nigel. 'It was wonderful. I hope there will be more?'

'Pain or kisses?' Sydney asked teasingly.

'With you, Syd, I've a feeling there is going to be a fair amount of both.' Nigel returned the kiss, with less force but no diminishment of intensity. Sydney senses flew to the moon and back.

Once released, she contemplated him in astonishment.'You really learnt that in the book?'

'It was inspiring,' confessed Nigel. 'Although, I added some of my own embellishments. I'm not sure I really want to kiss like a master criminal, anyway.'

'I've kissed, far too many crooks in my time,' said Syd, 'and I've kissed enough foolishly brave men who were ultimately cowards. Believe me, you kiss better… and, unlike them, I…think… I…'

Her voice faded out and she never finished the sentence. Instead, she held him closely and gently, so she could feel his warm breath against her cheek. Nigel didn't mind, and enjoyed the feel of her soft curves against his body. All in all, he decided, there had been enough change for one day.

The end.

Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know which bits worked well and which didn't. I know it's a while since I posted this, but its still getting hits – if you're a late reader, please still review me! I'm planning a sequel.

Katy xx