Disclaimers: as before.

Thank you for the reviews – love you guys :) Here is the final part of my little story. I promise I will also update 'Legend of Sydney and Nigel' very soon, but this sort of distracted me!

Chapter 3.

Nigel was awoken by the touch of a caressing hand on his shoulder and a soft whispering in his ear. Nevertheless, he soon became aware of two further, unfamiliar sensations: the crackling glow of a fire, close by, and the cold lick of water at his toes.

Water! He reluctantly pried open heavy eyelids and absorbed the scene.

Night had fallen and the tide had, indeed, come in. From the dim light of the fire, which was scarcely more radiant than a flickering candle, he could see that they now occupied an island hardly two metres across at its widest point. Sydney crouched at his side, gazing pensively out to sea. Her fingertips resting on his chest and, with her other hand, she poked agitatedly at the withering flames with a charred pencil.

'Okay, Nige?' she asked as he sat up.

He blinked at her blearily: 'You've lit the fire – please, tell me you've seen a ship?'

'Not yet,' she admitted. 'But I thought I'd better light it anyway, so they can see us first. Besides, it will soon be…'

'…too late'. Nigel ended her sentence gravely. 'How long have we been here now?'

'About four hours. We must have been dumped at low tide - which means high tide must be within the next couple of hours. But even if this place is covered with water completely, there's no guarantee we will be out of our depth… '

Nigel passed a tired hand across his eyes. 'But even if we aren't - and the sharks don't get us - with no food, no water, how long will we last?'

'It won't come to that,' replied Sydney, but her casual tone was little strained as she settled down next to him and curled an arm around his shoulders. In response, he pulled her in close, his own arm around her waist, and glanced over at her soft rounded features and high cheekbones, ethereally illuminated by the glowering firelight. Her mouth was set, firm and resolute, her eyes blazed with belief. All the same, he swore he could feel the hand on his shoulder tremble - or was that just him shaking?

'Is this really it?' He whispered. 'I can't… I can't believe it. There was so much I still wanted to do…'

'Don't talk like that,' hushed Sydney. 'They'll come.' She couldn't quite disguise the content of her emotions and she wrapped her other arm around him and held him tight, not ceasing to look forwards to the far horizon. 'They'll come,' she murmured.

After a few minutes of mournful silence, Nigel asked abruptly: 'Sydney – where's that bag of Viking runes?'

'The fabric bag is waiting to go on the fire,' replied Sydney. 'The contents are stone, so they're useless for burning and we can save them. Why?'

Nigel darted for the pile of fire-fodder and, finding the little fabric bag, tipped its contents out onto the remaining sand. Rummaging enthusiastically through the scattered contents, he soon found what he was after: the dull shimmer of bronze.

'Ah! Here we are. I hid that Saxon ring we picked up in Düsseldorf in here. I guessed Albertos wouldn't be interested in the runes - not shiny enough! So here it is…I know it's not worth much, but…but…'

Sydney had risen to her feet, curious as to what he was doing. Nigel, gazing up at her anxiously, raised himself to one knee and stretched the ring out towards her. It was only then that the metaphorical 'penny dropped' and her temporarily dampened passions exploded into an ardent blaze.

'Nigel,' she breathed, looking down at his earnest, pleading expression. 'I…uh…'

'I haven't asked yet!' he blurted. 'Please, don't refuse until you've heard me out!'

'I wouldn't, but I must tell you…'

'Please!' he begged. 'Look, I know we've been together a while now, and marriage has never been on the cards… I mean, I know you've had relationships with many men… and, uh, now it seems you've had some women too… but that was a long time ago of course, and now you're just not the marrying type…' He broke off, and visibly panicked as his brain caught up with the previous few burbled sentences. 'I meant that in that all in a good way,' he grimaced.

Sydney favoured him with an open mouth giggle. 'I know that, but…'

'Please!' interrupted Nigel. 'Hear me out. I love you Sydney - more than life itself. You know that, and it seems - heaven knows why - that you love me! I appreciate that you're probably not keen on engagements and marriages, but I think, maybe, I am, and there's only one person in this world I'd like to marry… and seeing as I'm not likely to make it out of here, so it's very unlikely we will have to have all the bother of actually organising a wedding or anything…'

'Nigel!' interjected Sydney forcefully. 'Just ask me!'

He nodded, slightly chastised, and took a deep breath.

'Sydney. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?'

For a split-second, a broad resonant silence reverberated between them. Nigel wondered if he would ever be able to draw breath again. Then, at his whole being lurched with joy, Sydney offered her hand to him.

'Yes, Nigel, of course I will!'

He slipped on the dull, yellowish ring and pressed her fingers ardently to his lips.

'And, I'm sorry I had to rush you through your speech,' she continued, 'but I spotted a ship out there just at the start and we really need to build up the fire!'

'What!?' Nigel jumped up off his knees like a firecracker. 'You knew all along?'

'Yeah - I was going to tell you, but then I it occurred to me that if I did, you may never get around to popping the question.'

Nigel gawped at her, speechless for a second. They his ecstasy overcame his confusion and he flung his arms around her neck.

'You knew!' he cried. 'You knew all along we were about to be saved and you still said yes!'

'Yup, I knew,' she affirmed, extracting herself from his arms and starting to unbutton her shirt. 'But we're going to have to finish this later - strip, Nigel!'

'Eh? Now?'

'Yes – now! The ship? The fire?'

Nigel blanched beneath his sunburn as Sydney whipped off her shirt and shorts and consigned them to the flames, leaving her dressed in only her red, lace skimpies.

The flames leapt a little, and began to consume the fabric hungrily, but it was obvious that they wouldn't be enough to get the inferno raging. Sydney folded her arms and raised her eyebrows impatiently.

'I can't!' wailed Nigel, 'oh hell, oh God. I wish I was dead!'

………………………………………..

'You've got nothing to be ashamed of - those pants look great on you!' observed Sydney, flashing him an encouraging smile.

Nigel's scowled back at her as she tossed his trousers onto the now vibrant inferno, his arms wrapped self-consciously about his middle. Syd, on the other hand, couldn't help but enjoy looking at him: he was wearing a rather sexy, snug-fitting pair of blue trunks - a gift from herself, since she'd found that his old selection of underwear left a lot to be desired. The low waistband nicely displayed his flat, mildly toned stomach – it was too flat and empty, right now, bemoaned Nigel. Moreover, the figure-hugging fabric showed off to advantage the sculpted curves of his pert backside.

Getting him out of his clothes, however, had been worthwhile on two counts: the light of the ship appeared to be drawing closer and they had to make hundred percent certain they were visible. Nigel's cotton shirt - and now his linen trousers, too - were flaring up brilliantly.

'Look at them blaze,' she marvelled. 'You'd see that light from Java!'

'Lovely,' mumbled Nigel. 'Its going to have to do the trick because I'm not taking anything else off… what are you doing?...aaaaargh!'

If there had been anywhere to run, Nigel would have attempted to flee, as Sydney whipped around the back of him and seized the elastic waistband of his trunks.

'No!' he yelled, grabbing his underwear. 'Not them - you can't! You wouldn't?!'

'Don't worry,' said Sydney blithely. 'I wouldn't - well, not unless we really have too. I'm just checking the label - 25 percent Lycra and 75 percent cotton. They'd blaze up nicely!'

'NO!' seethed Nigel through gritted teeth. 'Look - let's shout or something. The lights are getting close.'

…………………………………….

They yelled and hollered for the next few minutes - with apparent success. The outline of the boat and its array of electric lights were now clearly visible. It was a hulking great vessel, at least two hundred foot long, with a pointed stern and a tall, multi-storey communications tower. 'She looks like some sort of warship,' observed Sydney. 'I wonder who she belongs to?'

'It's a type 23 frigate,' confirmed Nigel. 'Look - they're sending out a shuttle… there's a flag on it. I can't quite make it out yet…oh, yes - it's the Red Ensign! The Royal Navy! We're saved!'

He raised his hands to her cheeks and pulled her in to for an amorous, celebratory kiss. Sydney crushed her near-naked body into his, making him acutely aware of her every, intimate curve… and his own.

'Oh God!' stuttered Nigel, breaking away. 'I'm about to be rescued by the Royal Navy in my underwear! This is terrible!'

'No it isn't,' assured Sydney kindly. 'I'm just as undressed as you are!'

'Yes,' panicked Nigel, grasping his hair at the intensity of his horror. 'But you're a girl! They'll think you look great!'

'They'll think you look great too!'

'I bloody hope not!' he wailed. 'This is my worst nightmare!'

Sydney looped her arms back around him. 'It's okay. Just think – they'll probably give you a nice uniform to wear until they can get us to land. You'll look fantastic!'

'You think?' A trace of the hope sparked in Nigel's eyes, but was soon vanquished. 'It's still terrible,' he groaned.

'Uh no - that is terrible,' said Sydney matter-of-factly, nodding down at the fire. 'It's nearly out!'

Nigel's gasped silently as he felt her fingers slip down the back of his pants again, taking a firm grasp on the material.

'No!!!! You said you wouldn't!'

'No, I wouldn't,' she confirmed. 'I'm just tucking away the label I left hanging out. Look - the sea is going to cover the fire, and our feet, any moment now. Let's just yell!'

They both screamed at the top of their voices, as the last of the fire was drowned by the tide and crisp, cool water began to lap at their ankles. Nigel cowered behind Sydney, feeling all the more self-conscious as the whirring-engine of the rescue boat growled ever louder, drawing towards them under the star-lit sky. Still, he reasoned, it was worth it - now he was engaged to Sydney Fox! In any lesser circumstances, he might never have got around to it.

He couldn't help smiling beneath his blushes. A small part of him, he knew, would always be grateful to Albertos, the sandbank and the rising tide.

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this, or have any comments to make, please review. You'll never know quite how happy it makes us poor writers!!