Can't you just picture Sheldon in a toga?

:Warrior Woman:

He yawned widely. The crowd was as boisterous as usual. They were easily amused. Throw a few warriors into the arena, maybe a lion or wolf, and they were happy.

He was not so easily amused. He yearned for something new. Slaves cleared the arena floor of the fallen as he gulped down the last of his wine. He stood to leave just as the gates below opened. A gasp went up from the crowd and he turned to see what had surprised them so.

Her hair was the color of wheat. Her skin was bronzed by the sun. Her leather tunic was little protection. She wore bracers on her sinewy arms. She strode out proudly. Defiantly. With head held high she looked all around the arena. She carried an axe over her shoulder.

He slowly took his seat again. A woman? Gladiatrixes were rare. Very rare. Few women made it through the hardships of training. Most ended up crippled or dead.

Another gate rose and three barbarians strode out. He watched with concern as the three men began to circle her, weapons poised. She stood perfectly still. Her eyes followed them, but she did not assume a defensive posture.

His heart began to pound with a mixture of anticipation and fear. This end was obvious. She had been sent out to her death. But she did not plead, or cringe, or try to run. He watched her face her opponents fearlessly. Suddenly she exploded into action.

She was grace personified. She moved with a fluidity he had never seen before. The men did not stand a chance. She lunged and spun and whirled. Her axe sliced through an arm in one second, and her fist connected with a jaw in the next. He watched, blood pounding in his ears, as she launched herself onto the one armed man's back and used him as a shield. The attacker's mace crushed the man's head and she ducked under the flailing arms to bury her axe in the attacker's chest. The man she had punched rushed her from the side and she rolled with him across the dirt floor. She used their momentum to roll him underneath her. She slammed her elbow into his neck several times before scrambling away. By the time he made it to his feet she was striding back. Without any hesitation she swung the axe and separated his head from his shoulders.

The crowd was screaming and cheering. He watched as she turned her back on them all and walked calmly back to the gates. He slowly stood and watched her disappear into the gloom.

He watched her stride into the room as if she owned it. He waved away the servants and stood. He poured two goblets of wine and walked forward, offering her one. She just stared at him impassively.

"Do you have a name?" he asked.

"Caelia," she said without emotion.

"I am Cato." He reached up and let a lock of her hair slip over his fingers. "You were very impressive today."

She turned to look at him. "I will save you time. Do not bother offering me freedom. You are not powerful enough to grant that. Do not offer me luxuries. I have no use for them. I cannot deny you my body, so take what you want and let me return to my cage. I fight again on the morrow and need my rest."

His deep blue eyes twinkled down at her. She was fascinating. His long fingers curled around her neck and he drew her close. He bent his head and whispered in her ear. "You will find I am more powerful than you imagine." His fingers slid down to her wrist and he pulled her across the room quickly. He spun her onto the bed.

Her emerald eyes flashed with anger briefly before she managed to blink away the emotion. Cato paused only long enough to strip away his toga. He pressed her back into the mattress and devoured her lips. His mouth moved down her jaw to her neck. He growled as she remained passive beneath him.

Where was the fire he had seen in her earlier? Where was the warrior he craved? He tugged her tunic off and allowed his eyes to roam over her glorious body. She was magnificent. She did not know it yet, but she was his alone. Never again would anyone touch her but him.

"I bought your freedom this afternoon," he said softly. "You are no longer a prisoner."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "Impossible. Marius would never release me," she whispered. "He hates me too much."

Cato threaded his fingers in her hair and placed a kiss below her ear. "My father is emperor. He could not deny me."

Her eyes narrowed. "So I am no longer a gladiator, but a whore."

Cato frowned. "You are free. You may leave if you wish. I will not stop you. But if you stay, I WILL make you mine."

"Why me?" she asked with confusion.

He smiled. "I do not know. From the instant I saw you, so proud and confident, I was lost. I want you. You brought something to life in me. I would give you anything. I bought your freedom so you may choose. What will it be? Will you go? Or will you stay?"

She rose silently and tugged her tunic closed. Cato's heart plunged as she strode to the door and walked out.

He lay on the bed, an arm flung over his eyes for several hours. He did not have the will to get up. He heard the door open and sighed. "Go away. I have no need of servants tonight. I wish to be alone."

"Do you?"

He sat up quickly and gasped. Caelia stood before him. "I left the city. None opposed me. You really did free me." Her voice held wonder and awe.

Cato nodded. "I did not lie. Why did you return?"

She moved to stand before him. "Because you did not lie," she answered softly. She reached up and untied her tunic, allowing it to drop to the floor. "You gave me my freedom. I chose to return."

He gently drew his fingers up her leg and across her stomach. He smiled at the slight tremble of her skin. He dipped his head and traced a scar along her ribcage with his tongue. He heard her take a shuddering breath. Slowly he inched up her skin until he reached her mouth again. This time she opened up for him.

Penny and Sheldon aren't Roman names, so I changed them. Cato means "wise" and Caelia means "heaven".