Finishing their first Greek meal on Greek soil at eleven thirty—much as Geoffrey had predicted—the couple left the taverna tired and soundly under the influence of the table wine. It did not help that Nicasio, in addition to a second carafe of the spirit, also ordered a small bottle of ouzo to chase down the complementary baklava. Though the un-chilled, house wine had left a lot to be desired to their spoiled Californian pallet, it was just what Nicasio said he needed to put the whole intensity of their mission to rest for a while.

Over the food, which in the end they relished for its superb taste, Nicasio and Daniela made a sad note of the sparse tourists who walked by them during the earlier part of the evening. They also found it a challenge attempting to interpret the mannerisms and incomprehensible conversations of the locals who strolled by in the cooler air as the night progressed.

Walking back through the winding streets of Plaka and marveling at the number of tavernas and shops that were still open for business after midnight, the two soon found themselves in a very different part of the ancient city than where they had entered it. Admitting they were now lost and more than a bit drunk, Nicasio looked out over what seemed to be a primeval stone wall. They were now on a much darker pathway which only emphasized the great expanse below them to the horizon of glittering Athenian lights. It was clearly the outer perimeter of an Orthodox Church yard they were nearing, with its domed roofs and tiny arched windows rising out of the more somber and less touristy region.

A pair of kittens darted out in front of them as they progressed along a walled street and neighborhood reminiscent of the Renaissance age. They followed this narrowing street as it turned to a footpath with its cobbled stones skirting the view below to lower terraces. The city of Athens now just a mass of twinkling amber lights. The fortified church in front of them hinted at gardens behind its cloistered perimeter and it had the general configuration to Nicasio as being a monastery. The stillness they found there in the dark, although solitary, was nothing of the true silence Daniela knew of her own home in the unlit morning hours. For even at this lonely spot, high above the old city, there was a constant low roar, emanating from traffic which seemed never to cease in the distance, night or day. It was no doubt the single, unpleasant hallmark of a never-sleeping city which, even at three 'o clock in the morning, refused to let any of its intensity abate for the sake of serenity.

As the atmosphere became much cooler and the breeze intensified, the two walked on along the walled footpath hopeful it would lead back down to the city where they might find some means back to their room. Yet it did not. As they stopped to rest at a bend in the pathway, high stones on both side of them, Daniela moved toward Nicasio, convincing him to sit on a flat rock while she pressed against him to stay warm. He leaned back against the wall of marble blocks, obviously stacked there to preserve them as relics, while Daniela put her head wearily onto his chest. He could feel her heart steadily beating while he ran his hands over her chilled arms. Leaning back farther, the two were now practically lying on the large stones, still warm from the long day's sun.

Unexpectedly, she kissed him—at first sweetly and then more amorously. Nicasio could feel her move his hands from her arms onto her sides and soon she had maneuvered them against the sides of her breasts. This was further encouraged by bringing her mouth more fulsomely again up to his, initiating a warm and lasting kiss. He felt an unexpected excitement in her breathing and soon an old familiar pulsing through her whole body as she was now fully on top of him. Nicasio, further reclining, moved his mouth across her cheek and onto her soft neck. He kissed her lightly there while trying to fully interpret her affectionate gestures. Even in his inebriated state he managed to detect clearly that her intentions were more than to merely stay warm.

As she kissed him again more feverishly, he slid his warmed hands under her blouse and unhooked her bra. His hands now moved easily over her bare breasts. And after unbuttoning the fasteners of her suit pants, the garment glided easily over her bare hips and thighs. Keeping her away from the cold stones with his body on which she lay, he caressed her back and hips while she now pressed against him with her full weight.

Nicasio too, felt his desires quickly peaking at this most unlikely time and place. Daniela fumbled to unzip and open his jeans. There was a feeling of cool air as she pulled his pants down over his hips. She caressed him rhythmically with her hand, and positioned herself, readying him to enter her. To intensely join in this impromptu of ecstasy.

It was there, somewhere in the dim light of the great hill, between the ancient Parthenon and the modern city of Athens, that Daniela boldly satiated both of them by her movements, finally slowing to rest while still on top of the only man she had ever known as a lover. She had made incomprehensible, muffled cries in the process as she pressed her mouth hard against his shoulder. And there were flashes of warmth that arrived in waves for both of them before their movements finally came to a stop.

Soon the two were dressed again, though they retreated back into their locked in an embrace, remaining inclined and in comfortable position that would sustain them into the lighter hours of morning. Nicasio remarked whimsically just before they fell asleep that they had just made love on constructed stones older than any known in the Americas.

After an hour or two of blissful sleep, they awoke in the cold air and began their descent back down the Acropolis hill into the city. This they did with the never-ending and distant hiss of traffic. The sound was monotonous, and now with the whitening daylight, it roared more intensely over the ancient world..

* * *

One hour after sunrise the weary and disheveled pair of tourists appeared from a side street near Plaka. They entered a wider boulevard of Athens at the periphery of the great white city and hurried along in the warming light. They were stiff and sore from sleeping out the remainder of the night huddled on flat stones near the base of the Acropolis. The two were quickly approached by several men of darker complexions who held out beaded bracelets for sale. Behind them they could see others squatting in the early morning against buildings which, though seeming modern, palled in comparison to the evenly cut marble stones they left behind them.

Soon Nicasio and Daniela observed many storefronts along the streets which were boarded up, empty—signs of the economic havoc the country struggled with. As a woman holding a child approached them with her hand, the two gave her several Euros and what ever other small coins they had. They then welcomed the sight of three compact yellow taxis which sped up to where they stood at street side. Haling the first of them, Nicasio told the driver in a hoarse and spent voice, only the word "Gennadius." It was the name of the Greek National Library, and he knew it to be directly across the street from the AmericanSchool of Classical Studies.

This locator worked perfectly as the driver nodded and sped away from the curb. His departure led directly into the line of traffic and expectedly cut off the series of cars behind them. At that point Nicasio and Daniela were numb and undaunted by the outpouring of expletives and hand signals which were exchanged among all the drivers. And eventually all was forgotten as the incident was swallowed up by the general malaise of the city.

* * *