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Jedediah has invited him for dinner in the West. 

This is a somewhat unusual occurrence, though not entirely unexpected. All those years ago, Octavius had made a point to invite Jedediah and a number of his compatriots to a feast in Rome to celebrate their truce - and had the foresight to brief them on the expected etiquette. It had gone astonishingly well. So well, in fact, that the westerners had responded in kind and invited a number of Romans to a cowboy cookout - and explained what that meant, exactly. It had been, Octavius must admit, an enlightening experience. And the men seemed to enjoy themselves, too. The events have become semi-regular fixtures in their lives in the dioramas, as is the thriving trade in Roman wine and American moonshine, among other things. The cross-cultural exchange between Rome and the West has only been expedited by the finished construction of the tunnel between the two dioramas. For the last year or so, Octavius has been able to walk to the West in a matter of minutes - a luxury he is still revelling in. 

As it happens, Octavius had set out tonight expecting to be led to his destination by a stream of his fellow countrymen and their cowboy counterparts heading the same way, enticed by the hum of music and laughter in the air. Instead, the night is quiet. If Octavius trusted Jedediah any less, this would have perturbed him. But in truth, it does not even occur to him to be anything other than curious until he has scaled most of the diorama and is deep into the so-called ‘wilds’ the West is so famous for; until the light of the campfire emerges from between the trees. His beacon. 

Jedediah is tending the campfire, alone under… well, for now, Octavius allows himself to believe that Jedediah is tending the fire under the stars. Laid out beside him is a blanket with cushions, and dishes of bread and olives. And perhaps most importantly of all, a jug of wine. 

Jedediah is whistling quietly to himself as he works, sitting on a log he's rolled up next to the fire. He's not wearing his brown waistcoat, or his gloves. Just his blue shirt - although, Octavius notices, it seems to have been both mended and pressed. And the hat, of course. Though Jed claims his historical counterpart had never worn one, his Jedediah wouldn't be his Jedediah without his stetson. 

“There ye are!” Jedediah smiles as Octavius steps forward, into the circle of light. “Come on, slowpoke! Caught this fish fresh for ya. Nearly done cookin’.” 

Octavius’ traitorous heart clenches even as he strides across the clearing, pretending at his usual confidence. Does Jedediah know that fresh fish would be a delicacy, to a Roman? Perhaps not. In the West, it's a much more common food source. It's probably just what was available. Jedediah has attempted to teach him how to fish before, in fact, in these very rivers. Actually, now he thinks of it, perhaps Octavius had mentioned it to him then. And the olives, the bread? That must have been difficult. Jedediah may even have had to make an order in Rome days ahead of time. 

“This looks wonderful, Jedediah. If I didn't know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me,” Octavius jokes, as he draws near. 

Jedediah looks back up at him. There's a glint in those blue eyes of his. The reflection of the orange glow of the campfire. It might almost be a challenge.

“Who said anythin’ about you knowin’ better, Ocky? Sure weren't me.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Octavius sits down, with as much dignity as he can muster with his legs shaking, and rearranges the folds of his toga. Venus help him, he should have put a nicer tunic under it. 

“I have been known to be wrong before,” he concedes. “I have even been known to be glad of it.” 

Jedediah is grinning at him now, leaning over one knee.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Indeed,” Octavius is smiling back. “I once would have sworn you were my greatest adversary. Now, I consider you my dearest companion.” 

Jedediah scratches the back of his neck. 

“See, about that-” he pauses, then seems to rally, then deflates again. “Damn, I ain't sure how t’say this right. I knew I shoulda got ya flowers too. Jus’ didn't know what ye’d like, y’know? Your whats-his-face, with the helmet-” he gestures, idly, in the vague direction of his stetson, clarifying exactly nothing about which of Octavius' many men he might be referring to. “Said you din’ do courtin’ in Rome like we do in the west. Said I might havta spell it out for ya. I told him you'd been ‘round too long in the museum, an’ ‘round me, to miss a hoss in a haystack, but-” 

“I didn't want to presume,” Octavius says, quickly. “I have made a number of assumptions about American culture in my time, some of which have landed me in a great deal of trouble.” 

“They sure did,” Jedediah grins at him, some of the tension released from his shoulders. “Well, feel free ta tell me ta can it with the romancin’ and we can go back to bein’ best buds, no problemo. Already made the grub, I ain't gon’ kick ye off the wagon, not tonight nor never, jus’ ‘cause ye ain’t wantin’ to be sparkin’ with ol’ Jed. I just figured I gotta at least shoot my shot, don't I?” 

The confident nonchalance in his voice is betrayed by the pink flush rising in his cheeks. It's exceptionally becoming, and something Octavius has never seen on him before. Jedediah is not, generally speaking, a particularly bashful person. Yet having said his piece, Jed looks down, the majority of his expression vanishing beneath the brim of his hat. 

Octavius longs to reach out towards him, to take Jedediah’s chin in his fingers and tilt his head back up, to that proud, cocksure angle he wears so well. But he does not. 

“You are a braver man than I,” Octavius admits, quieter than he'd intended to. “Jedediah, I… have been very fond of you for a very long time. I suspect I misunderstood what your invitation was, tonight, because I have been telling myself for so very long that I should not be… reading too deeply into our friendship. I have not allowed myself to look for signs that you returned my affections when your friendship was already such a gift. The fault in that, and the cowardice, I am afraid, are mine.” 

For a moment, there is only the crackling of the fire. Octavius can't help but wonder if Jedediah can hear how fast his heart is beating. The roar of it in his ears is not dissimilar to the way he feels standing on a battlefield. Or… well, felt, really. It has been rather a long time since they did anything other than drills. 

“Now hold on,” Jedediah says, slowly. “Correct me if I got the wrong end of the stick here, kemosabe, but I int sure what's to be so sour about here. You sayin’ we might be on the same page o’ this ol’ map?” 

He has moved away from the fire, now, turning into Octavius’ space. There's still a short distance between them, on the blanket, but- not very much of one. Not anymore. 

Octavius swallows, and gathers his courage. 

“I am, yes. I have never attempted ‘dating’ before, but you have shown me many things entirely new to me that I have thoroughly enjoyed, and I believe this would be one of them.” 

The moment he says it, he knows exactly how Jed is going to react. He's got that gleam in his eye; the omen of Octavius getting teased. 

“Like the rodeo ridin’?” Jedediah is grinning at him. 

“Many other things,” Octavius clarifies, allowing the corner of his mouth to twitch up, just slightly. Just so Jedediah knows he isn't truly angry about that incident. 

Jedediah laughs, equal parts joy and mischief. 

Chaos, Octavius thinks, fondly. Maybe that's why he finds Jedediah so wholly enthralling. Everything about Octavius' life is ordered, drilled, expected. Always has been. In the museum, it can be lonely. The night guards are his seniors - well, as senior as a non-Roman is capable of being, anyway, but Octavius grants them a certain amount of respect - and the other Romans, of course, are all his juniors. Before Larry opened the way for them, Octavius had no true equals. Other than Jedediah. 

And Jedediah is his opposite in every way. He is ruled by no sense other than his own, no laws other than what he considers fair and right, and even then only when it suits him. Octavius’ fifty plus years of miniature life in a routine designed to suit an empire that no longer exists have worn him thin. Rome is his first love, his life - but sometimes trying to run the extremely truncated miniature version feels less like a comfort and more like a confinement; and here, now, is Jedediah to breathe life - and, yes, chaos - into it. How different, life has been, since the truce. How much more interesting. 

In Jedediah's company, Octavius thinks, he no longer survives. He lives. 

“Sure,” Jed grins, oblivious to Octavius' little epiphany. “Well, I ain't had no spark before now neither, but I ain't thinkin’ much is gonna change now I’ve got you. We still gon’ go for drives and watch them cat videos and the other stuff, right?” 

“Indeed,” Octavius nods. “The occasional life-threatening adventure to keep us sharp, I should think.” 

“I'd say ‘bout once a week or so,” Jed grins conspiratorially at him. “If we’re behavin’ ourselves.” 

“Which we almost never are,” Octavius observes.

That makes Jed laugh again. 

Octavius clears his throat. 

“And, as for the aforementioned ‘other stuff’...” For Jupiter's sake, he's led armies into battle, he can ask this. “Might, perhaps, you allow me to kiss you?” 

Jed smiles. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that was exactly the kinda stuff I was hopin’ for.” 

And he yanks his hat off, scoots over onto the blanket next to him, and proceeds to kiss Octavius before he even really has time to prepare. All at once, there is Jedediah. His warmth, his hand on Octavius' shoulder - and then his lips. 

By Jupiter, Jedediah is kissing him. So enthusiastically that Octavius topples over backwards. This deters neither of them even a little bit. It is nothing like he imagined this going, in the vanishingly rare instances where he allowed himself to imagine this. But then in those fantasies, he had been the one confessing. Even in all of Octavius' wildest dreams, he'd never dared imagine this. Jed’s mouth is hot, insistent and inviting and a little messy, and everything about it is so very Jedediah that Octavius doesn't care one bit that it's so intense. It's perfect.

He wraps his arms around Jedediah and responds with as much passion as he can muster in the moment- which is rather a lot. Jedediah hums into him, appreciative, and Octavius begins to get over the initial shock of it enough to truly enjoy it. He pushes back against Jed’s lips, refusing to cede ground, and allows an indulgent hand to wander up Jedediah's arm to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, into his hair. 

“Hold yer horses!” Jedediah pulls away at last, swatting Octavius' hands away from his hair, breathing heavily. “I brushed that!” 

They appear to be lying side by side. There had been plenty of space for them to land on the blanket without worrying about upsetting the food, almost as if it had been set up for them to lie along the blanket and eat the Roman way, which might also have been deliberate, now he thinks about it, and… oh Jupiter, how long has Jedediah been planning this? 

Octavius, unable to stop smiling at him like a giddy schoolchild, brushes Jed’s hair back out of his face. The campfire is warm at his back, the flickering flames casting Jed’s face in golden-orange light. His hair gleams, golden as Apollo’s, his eyes as blue as the summer skies Octavius so barely remembers. 

“It becomes you very well,” he murmurs. “Did you truly go to all this effort, just for me?” 

“It ain't that much,” Jed is blushing again, to Octavius’ delight. “I woulda done more, only I didn' wanna embarrass ya, y’know, if ye didn' feel the same way.” 

“How could I not, amatus?” Octavius cradles Jedediah's cheek in his palm, luxuriating in being able to do this now. “You are a wonder. An Adonis of a man. Venus’ greatest visions made flesh.”

“I dunno about all that. And I don’ rightly know what ama-toos means, either, but I sure do like the sound of it.” 

“It means-” it’s Octavius’ turn to blush now, it seems. “Well, it's a term of endearment. And… romantic affection.” 

“Like if I called you darlin’?” Jed asks. 

“Indeed,” Octavius' breath catches. “I believe I would also like that. Very much.” 

“Yeah? Well good, ‘cause I almost did by accident ‘bout three times this week already.” 

Octavius laughs, joyous, marvelling at this situation. His luck. 

“Well then from now on you may do so without restraint.” 

“Right on, darlin’.” 

Still smiling, Octavius leans in, and kisses him again. Gentler, this time. Jed hums a happy sigh against his mouth, wrapping the arm he's not resting on over Octavius’ waist. He smells of campfire smoke, a little of horse and steel, and a little of lavender. His lips taste of Roman wine. Octavius gets distracted in the way Jedediah moves his lips against him, chaste and closed-mouthed this time, the way it sounds in the still night air. 

When Octavius finally manages to pull himself away, there's a few moments of silence. Jed opens his eyes slowly, as if waking from a dream. 

“Woo-ee,” he says, quietly. “Recon’ there’s a few things that’re new to me that you can show ol’ Jed too. I ain't never been kissed quite like that before.” 

“Is that… a good thing?” 

“The best,” Jedediah says, quite seriously. “But don’ go tellin’ me how you learned. A guy could get jealous, thinkin’ ‘bout how you dun had other lovers.” 

“None in this second life of ours,” Octavius admits. “And nobody who might have warmed my bed in either life has ever warmed my heart as you do, carissime.” 

That seems to help, if the way Jedediah pulls him down by the scruff of the neck to kiss him again is anything to go by. Not that Octavius has any complaints. Quite the opposite; he'd rather they didn't have to stop. 

When he does pull away, some time later, Octavius licks his lips. 

“Jedediah, did you start on the wine without me?” 

“Might’ve done,” Jed is grinning again, that sideways smile of his. “Had to check yer man hadn’ swindled me for the cheap stuff, y’know? Wouldn't do to serve my Ocky anything less’n the best.” He rolls onto his back, putting his hands behind his head and resting there, easily. “Not that they knew it was fer you, o’course, or they wouldn’t’a dared ta even try. But then I got out here real early like and my heart was goin’ like a wagon runnin’ from a highwayman, so I figured I'd take another sip or two t’ settle the nerves. Still plenty left though, if you're wantin’ some? Ah, heck, I shoulda offered already, shouldn't I? We int done much picnicin’ on this picnic dinn-” He sits up, suddenly. “Aw, tarnation! The fish!” 

Octavius can't help but laugh as Jedediah scrambles to his feet, swearing. 

“Ye distracted me!” He exclaims, trying to rescue the fish from the campfire. “With yer kissin’ an’ lookin’ all handsome an’ smilin’ at me!” 

Thankfully, the fish is not burned. In fact, it is perfectly cooked. Jed has a few more surprises in store; as the fish is plated up, he adds garlic butter, slices of lemon, and a sprinkling of herbs. 

“My,” Octavius cannot help but sound impressed. He knew Jedediah could cook, but he's never seen it in action quite like this. “This is quite the undertaking, for the middle of a forest.” 

“Jus’ ‘cause we’re out in the wild don’ mean we gotta be uncivilised,” Jed grins. “Better’n you had as a soldier, I’d wager.” 

“Undoubtedly.” 

They eat with their hands, the Roman way, laid out side by side on the blanket. It is exceptionally good. But lying here, trading jokes and pretending to steal mouthfuls and flirting, finally, shamelessly with Jedediah, Octavius thinks he could be eating ash and it would still be one of the greatest feasts he had ever attended. 

“How did you manage to set all this up?” Octavius asks, eventually, when they have finished eating and washed their hands and set the dishes aside to sit more comfortably together. Jedediah is leaning against his shoulder, his hat long-forgotten as Octavius runs careful fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. 

“Mmm?” 

“The blanket, the dishes, the food-” he gestures. “It's a lot for one man to carry, even you, and we’re a long way out from anywhere up here.” 

“Nah, I brought it all up on Florence. Parked ‘er next door with some fresh grass an’ she’s happy as a cow in spring.” He sighs. “Actually, I got one more thing. Wasn' sure if we were gonna wanna stay long enough to try, so I left ‘em in the bags, but I thought I should try an’ get some o’ them cheese and honey thingummies ye like.” 

“Encytum?” Octavius brightens from what had been a content, languid lounge. “Amatus mea, you are intent on spoiling me tonight.” 

“Naw, don't get your hopes up yet,” Jed shuffles upright, raising his hands to placate Octavius as if he were a horse. More amused than offended, Octavius duly waits for the explanation. “Y’see, I figured it wouldn't be too hard to make ‘em. I been doin’ them hound’s ears and whirlup sauce fer years, ‘cause the boys go mad for it, and I thought, well damn, these en-see-tum thingies are pretty darn similar. Ye make the batter, fry it up, slather it in sauce and wham, all golden delicious, right?” 

Octavius thinks he can see where this is going. 

“Right?” 

“Well I dun tried,” Jed says. “Damn hard to get the swirly bit right, but I got it. Only if you don't make ‘em fresh, they go all soggy like, and they int as gud cold, so- uh. I may have bought all the stuff to make ‘em fresh for ya?” 

No, no, that was not where Octavius was expecting that to go at all. 

He is very, very glad that none of his men are here to witness this. He doesn't think even his considerable dignity would survive the look he is giving Jedediah right now. 

“Jedediah,” he says. “You are a gift from Jupiter himself. What I shall ever do to deserve the depths of your consideration for me, I do not know, but rest assured I will try for every day of the remainder of both of our strange, extended lives if it would please you.” 

Jedediah blinks at him, his cheeks pink. 

“Yeah,” he says, a little strangled. “That, uh. Sounds real nice. Yeah.” 

Octavius frowns. That wasn't quite the effect he'd been hoping for. 

“Are you alright, carissime?” 

“Damn sweet-talking got me all tongue-tied is what's up,” Jed huffs a laugh. “Lordy lou, ‘Tavius. I didn' know if’n ye’d wanna try the sparkin’ thing, had myself all talked up for a let-down, and now yer looking at me like the sky’s shining out ma leathers just ‘cause I’m cookin’ for ya. I ain't mad or nothin’, it jus’ takes a man a bitta gettin’ used to.” 

Octavius exhales, relieved. 

“As long as I haven't upset you.” 

“Upset?” Jed laughs. “Nah, Ocky, c’mon, you broke my nose how many times? And I still forgave ya.” He tilts his head. “Eventually. Point is, it’d take a lot more’n some pretty words to get my feathers in a ruffle.” 

As he smiles, he leans closer, his voice lower, quieter. 

“As a matter a’fact, I think I'm right down on the other side o’ the emotional lan’scape. ‘Bout as far away from upset as a cowpoke can be.” 

And, so saying, he leans over and presses a brief kiss to Octavius' mouth. Octavius decides that's a better expression of his feelings on the matter than poetics, just for the moment, and pulls Jedediah close to him to do it again. And again. And again, and- 

He sighs, mostly contentedly and only a little bereft, when Jedediah finally pulls away. 

“Now, ya want dessert or nah?” 

“Oh, undoubtedly I do.” 

“That's my boy!” Jed smacks his shoulder, delighted, and leaps to his feet. “C’mon! Time’s a-wastin’!” 

He's not wrong. The nights, and their hours free to roam, are growing shorter in the late spring. Usually Octavius thinks nothing of it; the seasons are the seasons, as the Gods ordained, and no amount of mortal ire would change that. Now, however, he finds himself resenting it. Would that they could spend a winter night together like this; from almost the very moment the museum closed its doors to just before it opened them again, every spare minute available to them to be spent by Jedediah's side. 

For tonight, however, he resolves to appreciate what they do have. 

In truth, Octavius has never made encytum before. It's an amusing way to learn; from a cowboy who learned it from one of Octavius' own soldiers, out on a campfire in the middle of the woods up the back end of the diorama. He relishes the opportunity to get closer to Jedediah than he had previously allowed himself. They swirl the batter into the fat together, both hands guiding the holed spoon. Octavius can feel the heat and weight of Jedediah, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his breathing as they bicker over the shaping.

“That was damn near perfect ‘till you wobbled it!” Jed exclaims, at their final attempt. 

“A Roman’s sword-hand never falters,” Octavius proclaims, imperiously. 

“Oh yeah?” Jed jeers, “That's why you shivered when I kissed ya behind yer ear jus’ now then, was it?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Octavius doesn't even bother to try and hide his laugh this time. “Unless you are willing to admit to sabotage, you must repent your false claims, immediately, or I shall withhold the honey.” 

Jed gasps. 

“Ocky, you wouldn't.” 

He is, unfortunately, correct. A single pout and those huge blue eyes that Octavius is so weak to, and he caves. Not that it really matters, given that they end up mostly stealing morsels from each other, which then devolves into feeding each other.  

They didn't quite get the texture right, to Jed’s annoyance, but Octavius couldn't care less. Especially not when Jed’s eyes follow him as he licks the last of the honey from his hands before cleaning them off on the napkin. 

“Something caught your eye there, Jedediah?” He asks, perhaps a little smugly. Jed elbows him in the ribs for the attitude. 

“You know exactly what you're doin’, you damn-” 

He's pink across the cheeks again, already darkening into red, and Octavius shuffles closer. 

“I do apologise, I should have offered you the same courtesy. It wouldn't do to leave one’s host unattended to.” 

Jed says nothing as Octavius takes his wrists, but his eyes are wide, and he allows Octavius to move him easily. Octavius starts by kissing the pads of Jed’s fingers, before flicking his tongue around his knuckles, and finally sucking them into his mouth one by one. 

“Oh good gravy,” Jedediah murmurs, to Octavius' mirth. “That's darn straight decadent, darlin', I ain't never- oooh, lord almighty, Oct!” 

Octavius takes pity on him and finishes up. 

“Thank you,” he says, happily, licking the last of the honey from his lower lip. 

“Dunno what you're thankin’ me fer,” Jed blinks at him, hazily. “Damn, Ocky, you know I gotta ride back? Gonna have a hell of a time gettin’ comfy in that there saddle now, boy.” 

Octavius leans a little closer. 

“Were you planning on leaving anytime soon?” He asks. 

Jedediah's eyes are dark; his pupils wide. 

“I dunno what you're suggestin’, mister right-and-proper. I din’ think your lot went in for the showing off yer p’s and q’s in public.” 

“We’re hardly in public, Jedediah. We haven't seen another soul for hours.” 

He had paused, though, when Jed hadn't immediately leaned back towards him. 

But then Jedediah smiles at him. Reaches across the gap between them, and adjusts the way the toga is sitting on Octavius' shoulder. Just for a moment, his unusually-bare fingertips brush Octavius’ arm. Then he's curling his fingers through the fabric to tug Octavius closer. He goes immediately, more than willingly, using one hand to prop himself up over Jedediah as the other wanders, taking in the shape of him under his shirt, down to his thighs, all of it thick with muscle under a slight padding of the start of his summer weight, that season of plenty that looks so good on him. 

“Jedediah,” his voice comes out both lower and steadier than he'd expected, and by the look in Jed’s eye he doesn't mind at all. “Do you know how I have longed for this? For you?” 

“I was beginnin’ to get an inklin’,” Jed admits, a little breathlessly. “Thought it were jus’ me fer a minute there, Ocky, truth be told, an’ I thought it would damn near be the death o’ me sometimes.” 

Octavius pauses, looking back up at Jedediah’s face. 

“How long…?” 

“Too long,” Jedediah admits, fast and embarrassed. “Din’ think ye’d be interested in lil’ ol’ me, when ye had all o’ Rome to choose from, but… I gotta be honest, most o’ th’ reason I invited ya was that I’m beginnin’ to think there ain't no-one else for me, ‘Tavius. I figured I had ta at least try, ‘cause it's only been you fer as long as-” he stops, suddenly, as if realising what he was about to say. Gently, ever so gently, Octavius reaches up, and cradles his cheek. Jed’s stubble is rough against his palm, but his cheek is smooth. 

“Jedediah?” 

“... fer as long as I can remember,” Jedediah finishes, in a mumble. 

“Oh, carissime,” Octavius’ eyes are suddenly watering. “If only we had known. Jedediah, amatus mea, I have loved you for years. Perhaps even decades.” 

“Yer kiddin’,” he says, low and quiet, his eyes wide with awe as if Octavius has just handed him the most valuable gift he has ever recieved.

“I would not joke about such things, Jedediah, and especially not to you. You have been the only sun in my sky, the star towards whom I turn on my dark days, the other half of my heart. With you, for the first time in either of my lives, I truly feel like I belong. Only by your side does this strange life of ours make sense. For why else would I be here, except to be with you?” 

Jedediah blinks at him. 

“Daggonit, Ocky, ye know I don't do the pretty words and stuff but- everythin’ ye just said, it's like that fer me too. Aw, hell, c’mere-” 

Octavius doesn't need ‘pretty words’. Poetry would be nice, sure, but he's got Jedediah. Jedediah, who has fought with him and for him, who has come from another world entire and yet who sometimes seems to be the only person in Octavius’ incredibly weird life who makes any sense at all. Jedediah, who has gone to such lengths to plan and set up an entire banquet for the two of them, out in the forest. Jedediah who is kissing him now, with as much feeling as would be in any of Octavius' poetry. Perhaps even more. Octavius leans all the way into him, pushing Jedediah slowly back down onto the blanket and slipping a leg between his thighs. 

“Whoo-ee!” Jed exclaims, laughing, like he hasn't got one hand on Octavius’ chest and the other doing its best to move the many folds of Octavius’ toga out of the way of getting at his thighs. “Shoulda known you'd be a frisky one. S’the buttoned-up an’ proper types you gotta watch for, y’know, ‘cause behind closed doors-” 

“This is your twenty minute warning,” Larry’s voice echoes over the speakers. “Twenty minutes until sunrise, folks. Start wrapping up.” 

Jed flops over onto his back with a groan. 

“Ah, shit. I promised Sal I’d get these plates cleaned and back to ‘er by sunup, too.” 

“Allow me to assist,” Octavius gets to his feet, swallowing his disappointment. There's no rush; they've waited this long. “It will go quicker with two pairs of hands.” 

There's a river nearby. At night, just like the Roman Baths, it is real water rather than blue paint. They dip the plates and bowls in the running water and pack up the saddlebags, stealing kisses the whole time, and Octavius allows Jed to haul him up onto Florence's back. 

Jed turns the doe-eyed pinto back towards town, reluctant even as Octavius leans against his back and wraps his arms around Jed’s midriff. 

“So,” Jed says, quietly, as Florence works her way back down through the forest, the two of them swaying in her saddle. “You recon’ I don' a good ‘nough job o’ seducin’ ya?” 

Octavius chuckles. 

“I have never been more thoroughly seduced in either this life or the last, Jedediah. This was… wonderful. I hope you will allow me to return the favour next time- although I can't promise my attempts at cowboy cooking will be anywhere near the standards of your Roman offerings.” 

“Naw, don’ bother wi’ that traditional stuff,” Jed says, in the kind of tone that Octavius knows means that he's wrinkling his nose, even if he can't see it. “I recon’ we gotta sort out the best o’ both our worlds, y’know? I mean sure, you got them engineers in Rome, and I gotta say, ain't no rightways a cowboy be usin’ them rickety old showers now we got open invitation to them baths o’ yours. But there int no need ta scrub by on jerky n’ tack neither. Y’all’re a bit stuck in yer own mud. Don' get me wrong, you got some good nosh, but yer missing some real fine grub ‘cause ye ain't movin’ with the times.”

“We are mostly soldiers,” Octavius points out. “Engineers are more useful to a legion than chefs.” 

“Well sure, but ain't nothing stoppin’ ye from learnin’. Sally got that big ol’ bakery o’ hers up an runnin’ now, and man, you should taste summa her ‘speriments with pastry.” Jed whistles, long and low. “You know them modern Romans-”

“Italians.” 

“S’what I said - they got that pizza stuff that Nicky keeps yammerin’ on about? She looked up on that there internet how to make it like, and one o’ your boys helped build ‘em an oven, and bam. No more soakin’ salted jerky for this ol’ cowboy, no siree!” 

Octavius nods. 

“You make an excellent point. Perhaps we should attempt a more modern style of date, then. Would you be opposed to pizza and a movie?” 

“Count me in, darlin’. As long as I get ta choose what we’re watchin’, o’ course.” 

“I do believe it is your turn,” Octavius says, which is absolutely a lie. Jedediah apparently doesn't keep track and therefore has no idea whose turn it is, ever, so Octavius allows him to have it about three times out of four. Usually Jed’s taste is pretty decent anyway. And if it's not, then teasing him about it’s just as fun. 

“I'm locking that in,” Jed says. “And I’m bringin’ the moonshine. Say all you like about yer schmancy-pancy roman wine, but we did make some progress in the last two thousand years and a damn fine spirit is one of ‘em.” 

For the sake of not having to walk home, Octavius refrains from mentioning the concept of indoor plumbing. 

“You grow corn out in the fields in the west, don't you?” Octavius muses. “I wonder if we could obtain a recipe for that ‘popped corn’ Ahkmenrah was telling us about and attempt to make it on a more appropriate scale.” 

“Woo-hoo! Now yer talkin’!” Jed whoops. 

As soon as they're clear of the trees, he urges Florence into a gentle canter, and down into the town. 

Everyone is packing up for dawn, tidying the last of their historically-inaccurate bits and pieces into houses and buildings. The streets are fairly busy, but Jed steers through them with the easy confidence of a true horseman. 

Octavius helps him deliver the plates back to Sally, who grins at them both the whole time, to Jed’s embarrassment. Octavius, who finds the cowboy custom of coyness just as bemusing as so many of the other ways of the West, joins her in mercilessly teasing him for staying out so late. 

“I had no idea I was such distracting company,” he says, catching Sally’s eye over Jed’s shoulder and giving her a very unsubtle wink. 

“Ye ain't!” Jedediah snaps, and then regrets it. “Well, no more’n usual.” He rallies. “And I been pretendin’ not to find ye distractin’ fer so long I got real good at it!” 

This does not help his cause, if Sally’s very loud ‘Jedediah I’d’a never guessed ye could be as sweet as sugar! You could damn near knock me down with a feather!’ is anything to go by. 

“I ain't sweet!” Jed grumbles, pulling his hat down over his flaming face. “But I int stupid, neither, and this ol’ cowboy can see a damn good thing when he's standing right in fron’ a’him. That don’ make me soft!” 

“And yet tonight you lost track of time entirely,” Octavius sighs. “You do flatter me, amatus.” 

“You weren't doin’ any better!” Jed complains, though he's already hoisting himself back into the saddle and leaning back over to offer Octavius his hand.

“No, I was not,” Octavius agrees. “But how could I pay attention to anything other than you, carissime?” 

Jedediah grumbles even as he gets Octavius' arms settled around him, pulling him in closer than he really needs to be. 

“Shuddup, Ocky, if I get any redder ye could cook up a whole damn buffalo on me.” 

Octavius is still laughing when the shadow falls over them. 

“What in the sam hill-” 

“Deus meus!” 

“Nope,” Larry is glaring down at them, unimpressed. “Just me. Looking for you two. Again.”

“Evenin’ Gigantor,” Jed tips his hat. “That’d be on me, ‘m afraid. Got a lil’ - ah - caught up in what we were doin’. Mighta lost track o’ the time.” 

“Not good enough,” Larry gestures with one arm, exasperated. “Come on, you two, the entirety of the rest of Rome and the West can get back on time, but you can't? You're supposed to be setting an example!” 

“Everyone needs some time off from being in charge, Larry.” Octavius begins, attempting to be reasonable - but Jed is already irate. 

“You sure don' want me settin’ no examples,” he protests. “‘Oh, Jed, don't do this, oh Jed, don't do that’ - man, this is the Wild West! What happened to freedom? Manifest destiny!” 

Octavius nods along. 

“Jed-” Larry covers his eyes. “Dammit, Octavius don't tell me you're letting him corrupt you.” 

“Excuse me,” Octavius is so shocked and indignant he almost falls off Florence - he would have done if Jed hadn't grabbed at him. “I am my own man, Larry! I make my own decisions! That you would insinuate otherwise is-” 

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry,” Larry waves him off. “You two stressed me out, though.” 

Octavius sighs. He does understand what it is like, to be concerned for the behavior of one’s charges. 

“Would you warn Rome of my arrival, my liege? Send a centurion to my rooms for my armour, and I shall meet them partway.” 

“Kiss-ass,” Jed grumbles at him. 

Larry sighs. 

“Come on, Octavius, hop off and I'll take you home.” 

Octavius tightens his grip around Jedediah. 

“No thank you, Larry. Jedediah has offered to give me a ride.” 

“Yeah and it'll take twice as long-”

Larry is already reaching for him. Jedediah, however, is already drawing his guns. 

“Don't you touch him without his permission!” He yells. “We been over this, Laredo! Don't make me get ye signed up for those consent classes again! I'll do it! You know I will! I might not got bullets in ma guns but I still got the bossman’s passwords and a Roman keyboard contraption and I ain't afraid ta use ‘em!” 

“That was you?!” Larry pauses, just long enough for Jed to whirl Florence around and point her straight down the tunnel between dioramas. “Wait, no - Jed! Jedediah!” 

Octavius holds on tight, laughing with delight as Jed ‘hollers’ at the top of his voice as he charges Florence across the West. They hadn't been too far from the entrance, thankfully, which means they reach the safety of the tunnel before Larry can get hold of them. 

“I recon’ we’re cuttin’ it real close, Ocky,” Jed yells over the echo of Florence's hooves and the wind whistling past them. In the dim lights of the tunnel a lone cowboy is stumbling home, hair wet from the baths, still frantically trying to buckle his gunbelt as he runs. 

“Good luck!” Octavius shouts to him as they gallop past. 

“You better run, boy!” Jed calls over his shoulder, laughing. “We’ll keep Gigantor busy for ya!” 

Octavius buries his nose in Jedediah's shoulder as best he can against Florence's rocking gait, breathing him in deep and holding him close. 

“Alright back there, darlin’?” 

“Never better!” Octavius calls. “Just enjoying the ride!” 

All too soon they're bursting out of the tunnel into the bright artificial light of Rome. Despite their absent general, the legionnaires are forming up into neat lines. Octavius beams with pride - even as Larry looms, disappointed. 

“My liege!” Two of his centurions arrive almost exactly as Florence does, bright red and sweating, carrying a bundle between them. “Your armour!” 

“Cassius, Tiberius,” Octavius greets, dismounting. “Your assistance is appreciated, Larry.” 

“Sure, you can appreciate it better by not doing it again. Jed, get back to the West!” 

“No can do,” Jed grins. “C’mon, Ocky, you gonna say goodbye proper like?” 

Octavius turns back to him, fully intending to salute. Instead, Jedediah leans down off the side of Florence, grabs Octavius by the back of the neck, and kisses him full on the lips. 

In front of his soldiers. 

Octavius is too shocked to respond. Thankfully, Jed doesn't give him time anyway. A moment later, he's pulling away. 

“Jed, come on, for the love of-” Larry sounds beyond exasperated now. Not that Jed cares. As Larry reaches for him again, he spurs Florence into a gallop from a square halt, ducking out of his way. Larry goes for him again, only for Jedediah to go careering sideways, Florence’s hooves slipping on sand as she turns so sharply Octavius almost winces. 

Jed, of course, is in his element. 

“YEE-HAAW!” He yells, as Larry makes one final, last-ditch effort at grabbing him, putting his hand down firmly in Florence's way. 

Unperturbed, Jed pushes her forward - and the two of them take a flying leap over Larry’s fingers, vanishing into the tunnel. 

Octavius watches him go, chuckling to himself. Then he turns to his men, ignoring that they are both very firmly not looking at him, and gestures for them to drop the armour. He's already tugging off his toga, and two of the legionnaires come scrambling forward to hold up a cloth and preserve his modesty. They might bathe together in nothing at all, but the battlefield is a very different place to the bathhouse. 

Larry, either ignorant of or ignoring the faux pas, continues talking to him anyway. 

“Are you laughing at me, Octavius?” 

“My liege!” Octavius protests, genuinely horrified. And then, with more smug pride than is typically polite but which cannot be contained; “I was laughing at my boyfriend.” 

Cassius, helping buckle his breastplate into place, allows the leather to slip between his fingers. Octavius spares him but a momentary glare. 

“Boyfriend, eh?” Larry looks amused. “So you and Jed are officially an item?” 

“Indeed we are.” 

Octavius shrugs his shoulders, letting the armour settle into its proper place. 

The night guard nods, thoughtfully. 

“I probably should’ve seen that coming.” 

“I did not,” Octavius says, generously. “It is somewhat outside of my usual pattern. I have had three wives, you know, but never a boyfriend. We are, as Jedediah put it, ‘going steady’.” 

“Three?” Larry looks almost impressed. “I don't think I knew that.” 

“Political allegiances,” Octavius allows. “Of course, my union with Jedediah is also most advantageous. Once Rome’s greatest enemy, and now her most devout ally. His horsemanship you must admire, no?” 

Now dressed, he dismisses the centurions and legionnaires alike, fastening his cape back around his shoulders with as much dignity and aplomb as he can muster. 

“Now you're definitely poking fun at me,” Larry sighs. Then he pauses for a moment. “Just so I know, Octavius- this isn't just about forging an alliance, is it? Only that was one hell of a kiss, if it's just political.” 

“Larry,” Octavius sighs, putting his helmet on and fastening it. “If it was purely political, we would have married. We are dating because-” he hesitates. “Jedediah seems to like me. In a… romantic sense.” 

“Oh,” Larry nods, sounding a little surprised but evidently trying to be both positive and supportive. “Right!”  

“And of course I've been in love with him for years.” 

“Ooooh,” Larry says, in a considerably different tone. Perhaps, this time, as if kicking himself for not having realised. “Right.” 

“Indeed.” 

There's a silence. 

“How many years, exactly?” 

“I truly do not know,” Octavius says, dreamily, still staring after Jedediah's long-vanished silhouette. “The realisation came much later than the feeling, I suspect. It is as if I have always loved him, but have not always known it. The line between love and hate is more easily traversed than we often believe. He was always a worthy opponent. Perhaps even the most important person in my life. So much, and yet so little, have we changed.” 

There's a pause. Then; 

“Wow,” Larry says. “Sounds like you've got it bad.” 

Octavius clicks his tongue, irritated. 

“That's what I just said, yes.” 

“Right,” Larry just grins down at him. “Just didn't think you'd be the poetry and flowers type.” 

Octavius spares him a glare. 

“For a man who has spent so very many years in a museum, Larry, you still have much to learn of Rome and her people. Surely you have at least heard of Virgil? Did not Nicky undertake the study of The Aeneid?” 

“Did he?” Larry scratches his head. “I don't remember. Anyway, doesn't matter. Don't do that again, alright? I'm used to having to worry about the Neanderthals, but not you two.” 

“On my honour as a citizen of Rome,” Octavius salutes. “I will try.” 

“Yeah okay,” Larry rubs a tired hand over his eyes. “That's the best I'm going to get, I know.” 

His watch beeps, and he ducks aside quickly, checking the Western diorama. Whatever he sees seems to settle him; presumably Jedediah has made it back in time. 

“Sixty seconds!” Larry yells. “Places everyone! Come on!” He claps his hands together as he walks away, sending shockwaves through the air. “Oops, sorry!” 

Then he's gone. 

Octavius shouts the orders to his legion to reform, but they're already picking themselves back up and putting themselves together. 

Satisfied, Octavius settles into his own position.

Tomorrow will be a new kind of night.