When In Rome

Summary: Two centurions, a prefect, the girl who waited and a madman with a blue box. You can meet all sorts of people when in Rome. Crossover with Simon Scarrow's Cato and Macro books. You don't have to have read them, but it helps.

A/N: I've just finished reading Praetorian by Simon Scarrow and though it was about time I wrote some fanfiction about Cato and Macro, since I've now read eleven books about them and the number of Eagle series fanfics on the internet seems to have a grand total of zero. They deserve a bit more love than that. Also, since I'm paying a visit to Doctor Who-land (otherwise known as Wales) I'm making it a crossover. This is set about a week after Sinius and Geta are killed, and therefore just a couple of days after the final scene of Praetorian, and during early season six of DW.

Disclaimer: The BBC own the TARDIS crew, while Simon Scarrow owns the two Romans who seem to know an impossible number of historically famous people.

When In Rome… Shop For Togas

The Forum was bustling; a hubbub of noise and activity as shoppers and traders mingled together in the densely packed square in front of the Imperial Palace. A cloudless sky was allowing the sun to shine down brightly on the people below, but a light breeze served to regulate the air temperature and stir up a cacophony of smells from the various market stalls where people hustled to buy goods. Among the throng, two figures were making their way through the rows of stalls in the direction of the Quirinal Hill. One of them was a short, stocky man with a scarred and weathered face that spoke of many years of hardships endured in the less comfortable provinces of the Empire, while the other was a tall youth with curly dark hair and a face that was handsome despite being marred by a savage scar that cut a line from his brow down over his left cheek. Their scars and the military cloaks that they both wore betrayed their status as legionaries – and veterans of many campaigns at that.

The men were Centurion Lucius Cornelius Macro and Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato, formerly of the Second Legion and soon to rejoin that legion in Britannia after a short stay in Rome.

The older, shorter one, Macro, turned to his friend as they made their way through the crowd. "Look at this place. Hard to believe the state it was in just a week ago, with half the stalls shut down and the Urban Cohorts patrolling for rioters on the corner. Now it's as if there was never any trouble at all, and I suspect Pallas is taking all the credit for it. Never mind that it was mostly down to us."

His companion, Cato, just grunted sullenly in acknowledgement, not really in the mood to discuss how well the capital had bounced back after the chaos of the last month.

Noticing his friend's low spirits, Macro let out a sigh. "Cato, lad, Julia's said she'll wait for you while you're in Britannia. She'd even go with you, if you like, so what are you sulking for?"

Cato scowled miserably, not at all cheered up by Macro's words. "Because I don't want to make her wait, Macro. It isn't fair to make her go another year without me being around, but nor is it fair to take her with me. Not to some cold, wet and dangerous barbarian-filled province on the edges of the Empire."

Macro just shrugged, displaying a lack of sensitivity that Cato had gotten used to over the years, but which did nothing to make him feel better. "Life isn't fair, lad. You can't have it both ways, not unless you decide to stay with her in Rome. Which, if you want to stay alive long enough to marry her, I'd advise against."

Cato nodded despairingly. "I know," he said, all too aware of how many enemies they'd made in the capital already during their brief stint working as spies for the Imperial secretary, Narcissus. In truth, Cato did desperately want to get away from all the sinister games of politics and back to some proper soldiering in the legions, but that didn't mean he was happy about leaving his fiancée, Julia, behind. "I was thinking I should do something to make it up to her though, if I'm about to go and leave her on her own again. I should at least buy her a parting gift."

Macro rolled his eyes. "Cato, lad, you really can be a sentimental poof at times."

Cato shot him a glare. "Maybe you wouldn't appreciate it, Macro, but I'm sure she would," he said defensively. "There's plenty of jewellers stalls here and I'm going to buy her something."

Macro sighed. "Alright, you do that if it'll stop you being in such a foul mood for the next few days. I'm going to go buy some new gear for when we head back to Britannia, and maybe I'll get us some good wine for the journey. Seems a shame to waste that money our good friend Sinius left us." At that final part he gave a smirk, thinking of the hefty sum in silver he and Cato had illegally acquired from one of the men they caught conspiring against the Emperor just a couple of weeks earlier.

At the mention of the money Cato bristled. He had been the one who initially insisted on telling Narcissus about the stolen silver Sinius was harbouring, but Macro had talked him out of it. Given the way Narcissus had manipulated the pair of them, Cato still felt that the decision was justified. "Alright. Why don't we meet at the Temple of Minerva in about an hour?" he suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Macro agreed, before adding, "And try not to have such a sour look on your face next time I see you."

In response, Cato just mumbled a rather half-hearted "Fuck off," as they parted ways.

-oOo-

On the far side of the Forum opposite the Imperial Palace, three other figures had just emerged from one of the alleys coming from the Subura. One of them was dressed in the off-duty garb of a Roman centurion, another was a redheaded woman wearing a pale blue dress and sandals that could just about pass as Roman, and a third was a man dressed in – most peculiarly for this time – a tweed jacket and bow tie.

As they emerged into the square the redhead squealed, a look of delight plastered on her face. "This is brilliant! I'm going to get to go shopping in a real-life ancient Roman market," she gushed, before turning to the others. "Do you think they'll have a toga stall? I want to buy one."

"You'll want a stola," the man in the bow tie corrected, "That's what girls wear, but we had some of those on the TARDIS. You could have worn one if you wanted."

"Oh, stola then," Amy replied offhandedly, "But still, wearing a TARDIS one isn't the same as buying my own."

The centurion shook his head affectionately. "What is it with girls and shopping?"

Amy turned to him and grinned. "See, Rory, you've got your own authentic Roman uniform, which looks fantastic on you, and I thought it would be great we could be a matching couple. So when you're being a Roman centurion, I could wear something genuinely Roman to go with it, and we could be like a proper Roman lady and her husband. What do you think?"

As Rory looked at his wife his face broke into a grin. "I think you'd look wonderful in a stola."

Amy smiled back and then leant in to give him a quick kiss. "Great, then let's go find one." She'd taken his hand and was about to head off into the market, but their other companion interrupted.

"Hold on, Amy, we don't have any money yet," he said. "Rory and I should go and find a banker. I think with a military uniform and my psychic paper we should be able to get a few denarii from somewhere." Amy looked momentarily disappointed by the delay, but then he continued, "You go browse for your Roman dress. Pick whichever one you like, and we'll come and find you in a bit. Just whatever you do, don't leave the Forum."

"I won't, Doctor," Amy said, before turning to Rory with a teasing grin. "I'm going to pick out a really expensive one, just so you know. Something really dazzling."

"You don't need to a Roman dress to be dazzling," Rory replied, prompting the Doctor to roll his eyes and mutter, "Will the pair of you stop being so… smushy."

Amy just laughed. "Alright, I'll see you two boys later," she said, and they called out goodbyes back as she disappeared into the crowd.